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dont-offend-the-bees · 4 months

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Outside Looking In

More dead boys! Little heart-to-heart between their disguise alter egos. Outsider pov, established relationship, 3.6k, enjoy!

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It wasn’t that Ronnie went out of her way to eavesdrop on the clientele. And to be honest, she didn’t usually have the time. This was one of the most popular wine bars this side of town, especially amongst the theatre-going crowd. She usually had her hands too full to give much of a thought to conversations at the bar.

But she was a people-watcher, through and through. She'd freely admit it. She couldn't help it; she liked stories, and she picked them up from passers by like pennies from the pavement. She liked striking up conversations with strangers, she liked when strangers conversed around her. She had a nose for a good story, and it made her... well. Nosy. And it was a quiet, early evening in February, the sky just grey enough to scare most people back to their nice, dry homes. The bar was all but deserted.

So she had all the time in the world to polish glasses, and ponder over the lady sitting at it all by herself.

She was older than Ronnie. Forties, maybe fifties. A mature lady, face softly lined, hair honey-blonde and perfectly coiffed. She looked displaced in time, somehow. Ronnie could’ve pictured her sat at this precise bar when it first opened in the nineteen fifties, nursing her glass of Cabernet with a pensive air. She radiated poise, elegance. She was beautiful – and sad. Ronnie was always good at picking up when people were sad; it was in the eyes.

It was tempting to do something, say something. Offer another drink on the house – although she’d barely touched the first, so there wasn’t any point. Maybe Ronnie ought to talk to her. She hadn't seemed very talkative when she'd ordered her wine; but she'd smiled gratefully when Ronnie addressed her to her face. Maybe she didn't come in for a drink at all; maybe she just had a thirst for a little human company.

But Ronnie took too long devising her opening line, because some one else beat her to it.

“Seat taken?”

Ronnie blinked. The man that had walked up next to the woman (amazingly quietly, she might add) was an older gentleman. Grey-haired, with a hint of ginger showing through. Amiable smile on his face and a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on the end of his nose. He had the look of a good-natured maths professor about him – which was why Ronnie found his manner of speaking mildly baffling. Lazy, low, flippant. The kind of voice she could imagine coming out of a teenager hoping to sneak a drink without getting carded. She probably would have carded him, if she’d heard the voice without the face. And wouldn’t that have been embarrassing – guy must have been in his fifties, at least!

The elegant lady glanced at the man with a withering, but familiar look. “I daresay it is, now.”

Her accent was as timeless and pristine as the rest of her. RP of the most vintage persuasion. Her sharp eyes raked up and down the man as he took the next barstool.

“What can I get you, sir?” asked Ronnie, sidling a little closer with her customer service voice on. She watched the woman carefully; she was all too familiar with the pain of picking up unwanted hangers-on at the bar.

“I’ll have was she’s having,” said the man in that same laddish drawl, his smile crinkling his eyes. The woman's eyes rolled – but a small smile twitched at her dusky pink lips.

Ah. No need to worry; they knew each other.

“Of course, coming right up,” said Ronnie. She reached cheerfully for the same bottle of Cabernet, a little bounce in her step. It was nice to know the lady wasn’t as alone as she’d thought.

“Been lookin’ for you,” said the man. “Crystal said you stormed out.”

“I hardly stormed,” the lady scoffed. "Crystal does have a flair for the dramatic."

"Pots and kettles, mate," he chuckled. “Anyway. Might not’ve been the word she used.” The man leaned in, bumping the lady’s shoulder with his own. “Flounced might’ve been more like it.”

“And I do not flounce.”

“Ehhh…”

“Oh… shut up. If you’ve interrupted my solitude to make fun of me, you can jolly well leave.”

“I haven’t, I haven’t. Would I do that?”

She closed her eyes, and sighed. “...No. No, you wouldn’t.”

Ronnie placed the glass in front of the man with an apologetic wince. They'd fallen into such easy, familair banter; she couldn’t help but feel like she was intruding. But he gave her a warm smile and slid a crumpled fiver over the counter. “Cheers, love.”

The wine actually cost eight fifty (London - what're you gonna do?) but she took the cash without complaint. Something told her this bloke was gonna be worth the extra three quid in entertainment value. “Holler if you need anything.”

She retreated to the other end of the bar. It wasn’t a long bar by any means, and she could still hear them just fine. But the illusion of privacy was important, even if you had no intention of honouring it.

“So,” said the man. “Didn’t expect you to be out and about, and looking… well. Like you do.”

Ronnie raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, I…” The lady’s eyes flicked in Ronnie's direction before she cleared her throat. “Thought I’d put my face on for a change. A novelty.”

“Well, you look dead fit.” He shot her a mischievous little grin, with a twinkle in his eye far too rascally for a man his age. “Always do, mind.”

The lady blushed a little, high on her refined cheekbones. “...Thank you, Charles. You look.” She coughed and bobbed her head. “You look very smart, yourself.”

The man – Charles, apparently – beamed, big and bright, and his lady friend’s blush deepened. Ronnie definitely felt like she was intruding, now. But there wasn’t much else she could do about it, save for take her break early and leave the bar unstaffed. And she was far too professional – and nosy – to do any such thing.

“So,” he said, a little quieter. He held his glass by the stem, twirling – but like his companion, he’d yet to take a sip. “Wanna talk about it, or what?”

“There's nothing to talk about.”

“Edwin.”

Ronnie blinked. Edwin? Unusual name for a woman. Perhaps it was short for something, Edwina or the like. Were people still called Edwina?

The pretty Edwin sighed, tapping her fingers on the glass. It was the first time Ronnie had taken notice of her hands – or the fact she was wearing a pair of stylish leather gloves. “It’s foolish.”

“Oh, shit.”

Her eyes flickered to him, an annoyed scrunch in her attractive brow. “I haven’t even finished, yet.”

“I know. But when you’re sad about something ‘foolish’ it’s either, like, actually silly, or… the saddest fucking thing I’ve heard in my life. So.” He pressed his palms into the bar top. “Scale of one to ten, mate; how hard do I have to brace myself?”

“Now who’s the pot and who’s the kettle?” said Edwin, her voice sharpened to a cold and incisive edge. “Your whimsical childhood anecdotes are one third-act twist short of a Greek tragedy.”

“Alright, alright,” Charles laughed, raising his hands in a mock surrender. Somehow, he made the gesture look disarmingly sincere. “I’ll shut up. Look, see? Shutting up.”

“Unlikely,” she muttered.

“C’mon. I’m all ears. What’s got you ticked off, then?”

“I’m not ticked off. I’m…”

She trailed off, and true to his word, Charles remained silent. A minute or so passed, her eyes on her wine, his on her face. Waiting, patiently. Ronnie, the suspense killing her, sought distraction in the repeated and vigorous polishing of a crystal tumbler. Edwin circled a slender, leather-clad finger round the rim of her glass.

“I’ve only tasted wine the once,” said Edwin, quietly. “It was shortly before I was sent back to school, in fact. On that final year.” She cocked her head, a perfect little rain of hair cascading over her shoulder. “Father was in good spirits – probably at the prospect of having me out of his hair for the term. He poured me a small measure of what he was drinking – Cabernet, if I recall, though I can’t remember the year.” She picked up her glass and swirled it, watching the deep red liquid ripple in the low light.

“How was it?” asked Charles.

“Bitter. I confess, I had no idea what the fuss was about. Father laughed at the face I pulled, told me it was a taste I’d acquire eventually.” Her mouth lifted in a wry little twist. “Though I never got the chance, of course.”

Charles picked up his own glass, swilling it with a little less finesse. A small glob of wine splashed onto the counter. “Never had wine,” he said, mopping up the stain roughly with his jacket sleeve. “One of the lads at school used to sneak in beer, though. Let me nick a few bottles.”

“Not one of the boys who…?”

“Yep. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always a tosser.” He shrugged. “Well. S’pose he was, but. Not to me. Not to start off with.”

Ronnie felt like she was missing a puzzle piece or two, here. She couldn’t quite get her head around why these people were talking like wine was some unreachable commodity, when they both had a full glass in front of them. Maybe they were both teetotal? In which case, it didn’t make an awful lot of sense for them to sit around in a wine bar ordering booze they couldn’t drink. Was it a test? A bit of light masochism?

“I see,” said Edwin, voice measured. Stiff. She set her glass down with slow, audible click. “And how did the beer taste?”

Charles scrunched up his face. “You said it all, really. Bitter. Got easier to drink after the first couple of bottles, mind. And we weren’t exactly drinking it for the taste.”

“Ah. So I suppose neither of us have missed out on very much.” She folded her hands on the bar, slow, steady, lifting and lowering her fingers in two quick, rapid arcs of taps. All tautness, all control. “I do wonder, though. If I’d had the chance to develop a taste for wine, form my own opinions... Perhaps Father and I might have finally had something to talk about.”

“Not a chatty one, then?”

“No. No, not unless it was to cast judgement.” She sighed. “I imagine any opinions I did form would have been the incorrect ones, in his eyes.”

“Nice bloke,” Charles muttered. Ronnie was taken aback by the animosity in his tone.

“Well. I’d wager he was marginally nicer than your father,” she said, nudging Charles with her elbow. “But no. No, he wasn’t especially nice, come to think of it. Called me all sorts of names. Would have had a choice few for you, too, had you ever the dubious pleasure of meeting.”

“Dodged a bullet then, yeah?”

“By some decades, yes.”

“So that’s what it is, then?” said Charles, crossing his arms on the bar and leaning into her space a little. “Feelin’ nostalgic?”

“Feeling…” her hands clenched into tight, tense fists and pressed together, knuckle to knuckle. “Left behind.”

Charles nodded, slowly. “Ah.”

“Indeed.”

He smiled – a small, sad, understanding thing. “So.” His hand crept closer, close enough to nudge the back of her fist with his finger. “Bit sick of people looking right through you, yeah?”

She huffed, that crinkle of annoyance back in her brow. “Most of the time I’m quite alright with it. The people who looked at me back then rarely did so with kindness, after all. But I have to admit, from time to time it does feel rather…”

“Lonely?”

She winced, but gave a small, uncomfortable nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course it does.” Charles’ hand landed on top of Edwin’s, thumb soothing the tension out. “You had a lot of ‘em, didn’t you? The lonely years.”

“I’m sorry,” said Edwin quickly, chin lowered, eyes furtive. “I know it upsets you, too. More than it does me. And here I am, whingeing.”

“Edwin…”

“It’s alright, Charles. I know…” she lifted her other hand, hovering it over Charles’, afraid to let it fall. “I know how much you despise being stuck on the outside looking in.”

“Well. Yeah. Yeah, I miss it. Being a part of it all, and that. Get a bit down sometimes. But it’s not all bad, yeah?” He ducked in, until her downcast eyes lifted to meet his, and smiled. “Tell you one thing; I’ve never felt alone once the last thirty years. Not bloody once.”

Her breath caught, her eyes shining. “You… you don’t have to say that.”

“Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” He caught her hovering hand and brought it down, tangling their fingers into a tight, woven knot on the bar. “I don’t need anyone else to see me, mate. You see me. You’re the only one that counts, Edwin – you’ve always been enough for me. Always.” He squeezed her fingers. “Hand on heart, Eds. You and me, yeah? That’s the way it’s gonna be. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Honestly, Ronnie might as well have eavesdropped on a bloody proposal. She ducked under the bar, ostensibly for another glass. In reality, just to swipe furiously at the corners of her eyes with a cocktail napkin.

From the bar she heard a soft, watery huff of laughter. When she replied, Edwin’s refined voice was fraying around the edges. “Well. I…” she cleared her throat delicately. “I do believe you’re getting sentimental in your old age.”

“Oi,” he laughed. “I’m younger than you, old ma-uh. Girl. Old girl.” Ronnie stood up just in time to catch a near-blinding flash of his toothy smile. “And I’ve always been a softie, in’t I?”

“Hmm.” Edwin’s thumb was tracing delicate circles on Charles’ pulse point. “That’s one of the words Father often used for me. Soft.” Her lip curled, eyes warm and smiling at Charles fondly. “Knowing you has rather taken the edge off it.”

“Daft old sod had no idea what he was talking about,” said Charles. He clutched her hands, met her eyes, turned in his seat to face her head-on. Every molecule of him attuned to her, orbiting her. “You’re the strongest person I ever met, Edwin Payne.” His eyes crinkled. “Even though you’re also a right little toff.”

Ronnie almost put her entire bloody foot in it by laughing. She disguised it as a cough into her napkin, but she needn't have bothered. The lovebirds were far too wrapped up in each other to pay her the slightest attention.

“Oh, Charles,” said Edwin, dry as a bone. “You always know just what to say.”

Her tone may have been flat, but she was glowing. If Ronnie thought she was beautiful before in her graceful melancholy, it didn't hold a candle to her happiness. She could’ve outshone every stage light and billboard on the West End.

Couldn’t have escaped Charles’ notice, either. “Can I kiss you?” he blurted – and immediately looked sheepish about his complete and utter lapse in easy charm.

Edwin quirked one neat eyebrow, eyes twinkling. “Since when do you ask?”

“Just being polite!” Charles’ looked distinctly redder in the face. “Dead rude to spring it on a lady, innit?”

Edwin hummed, crinkles of mirth around her dark eyes, and leaned in. “Do try not to smudge my lipstick.”

“No promises,” said Charles – grinning to the last moment.

Ronnie averted her eyes, sternly. She was nosy, she’d admit it. But she wasn’t a total weirdo. She wasn’t about to stand there, on the clock, goggling at a lovely couple while they kissed. No matter how invested she’d become in their bizarre relationship. Or how much she suspected the kiss itself might resemble some... heretofore unachieved Hollywood movie romantic ideal.

No, she was going to do the responsible, non-creepy thing: keep pretending to clean the same glass, while acting like she couldn’t hear the sound of their lips moving in tandem some five feet away.

“Hey,” came Charles’ voice, soft and smiling after the kiss (finally) broke. “Let’s go out.”

“We are out,” said Edwin – her voice lighter, breathier, a little dazed.

Ronnie’s eyebrows shot up. That old man must be one hell of a kisser.

“Out, out. On the town, you and me. Bit of dancing, bit of… almost drinking. Why not, yeah? Crystal’s not expecting us back anytime soon.” Ronnie glanced back, and caught sight of him winking. “We’re all dressed up for it.”

Edwin still looked a little disorientated. Her perfect hair bore the unmistakable hallmarks of having had fingers run through it; and Charles hadn’t managed to honour her wishes regarding the smudging of lipstick. “Where would we go?”

“Anywhere! Everywhere.” He took her hands and tugged them back and forth, like a clumsy slow dance. “We can go to the clubs, see what people are listenin’ to these days. Won’t be as good as the eighties, mind, but it’ll be a laugh. We can dance. Show off that fancy ballroom education I know you’ve got tucked up your sleeve. Flash your moves in front of the other blokes. And I can wallop ‘em when they try getting fresh with you, since you still haven’t learned to bloody box –“

“It’s on my list!”

“– then we can stagger back, four a.m. I’ll give you a piggyback if your feet hurt in them heels. We’ll buy some crap kebabs we can’t eat. We’ll laugh, we’ll sing – we’ll piss of the neighbours.”

Edwin laughed. “That sounds… positively dreadful.”

“Edwin. Love.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Live a little.”

She blushed, a soft smile blooming. “Well,” she said, airily. “I suppose, seeing as we’re in the neighbourhood…”

“Yes, Edwin!” Charles grinned, clapping her on the shoulders and bounding up from his seat. “Let’s show them little scamps what these old geezers can do, yeah?”

“I do rather like being out and about like this,” said Edwin, standing and brushing the wrinkles from her sensible skirt. “People are far less likely to look at me askance due to my, ah…”

Charles smirked. “Flounce?”

She gave him a bitchy sidelong glance and grabbed her coat. “Let’s not start that again.”

“Flouncy blokes don’t do all that badly these days, Edwin,” Charles teased. “Well. You ought to know. Broken a few hearts, haven’t you?”

“And let’s not start that, either.” She smartly slipped a compact from her pocket and snapped it open, scowling at her unkempt reflection. “I did ask you to be careful.”

“Careful is not exactly something at the top of my mind when I’m snogging you, mate.” But he chuckled and offered her a napkin from the bar, watching happily while she dabbed away the most egregious smudges. “You’ll sweat it all off before the night’s through, anyway.”

“Charles, we don’t sweat.”

“Maybe we’re just not trying hard enough,” he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes – but the blush sat bold and bright like rouge on her cheeks. “Let us go,” she said, fussily fixing Charles’ coat collar. Interestingly, rather than smoothing it down, she popped it up. “Before someone summons the constabulary for public indecency.”

“To be fair, stint in a lock-up also sounds like a pretty classic night out.” He laughed at her deadpan expression and stepped aside, crooking his arm. “Nah, nah, you’re right. Let’s have a dance before we get the coppers involved.”

“Stirling suggestion,” she said, primly; as her arm slipped through his like it belonged, palm cupped over his wrist. “Do lead the way.”

“Me lead? Bit of a novelty, that.”

“Until we reach the dance hall, of course, at which point I’ll take over.” She smirked. “Your assumption about my dance education was remarkably spot on.”

“You’ll have to teach me some moves.”

She smirked, and fell into step with him. “Oh, I plan to.”

“Edwin?”

“Yes, Charles?”

“...Can you believe that one little drink cost a whole bloody fiver? That’s mad!”

Edwin laughed. A real, full laugh. “It cost eight, actually," she said, tucking her head into his shoulder. "I daresay the nice lady felt sorry for you.”

"Or she found me charming. Been known to happen, right?" He shook his head as he got the door, holding it for her to step through. “Eight quid... what’s the world bloody coming to, eh?”

And then they were gone. Just like that.

Ronnie stared, bemused, at the two untouched wine glasses on the bar. Nothing but a lipstick-stained cocktail napkin to indicate that the the most romantic – and bizarre – exchange she'd seen in her life had just taken place there.

She tidied away the glasses, burning with curiosity, riddled with questions. But that was the rest of the story, and that wasn't hers to know. That's the thing about collecting stories from strangers. She picked up odd little chapters in passing, and the rest was up to her to make up.

She had the feeling that she could make up any outlandish scenario she liked for Charles and Edwin, and it wouldn't be half as bizarre as the reality.

It was as she tidied up the lipstick napkin, and mulled over a few of Charles' choice words and slips of the tongue, that Freddie walked in. Late for his shift, as usual.

"Evenin', Ron," he mumbled, ruffling his hair and grabbing an apron from behind the bar. "Miss anything good?"

She frowned, scrunched up the napkin, and tossed it. "You been to that drag show that's on round the block?"

"Hm? Uh, nope, can't say I have. Why?"

She shrugged. "Some of those queens, mate. They get more convincing every year."

Thanks for reading! Reblog if you would cheer at Edwin's drag show 💛

#dead boy detectives #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #my fanfic #bits of this don't flow as well as i was hoping but i didn't wanna just endlessly mess with it #so i'm releasing it into the world while i'm still fond of the idea lmao

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thetavolution · 3 months

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20 TAV/OC QUESTIONS

I did it again!

Please consider yourself tagged if you want to! Feel free to @ me so I can read them.

This time it's Paloma (drow monk) and Lamia (changeling bard rogue disguised as a half-drow)! More under the cut.

Paloma

I. what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

Her kids would tell you she smells "like mom."

Other people describe her scent as pomegranate, ylang ylang, and mandarin.

II. what would their blood taste like to vampires?

It would be sweet and fruity like peaches or maybe a little tart like pomegranate juice.

III. how would they kiss their LI?

She's a sweet and gentle kisser until you get her in the bedroom. She loves to shower her lover with kisses whenever she can. She's a body worshipper with her kisses, too.

IV. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

She's always cold and hates it. She piles on the blankets and probably has her own separate blankets to avoid stealing from her lover. She would also be pressed against Halsin for warmth. Even in the summer, she'd be desperate for body heat.

He'd happily hold her tightly.

V. what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

It's immaculate with very little clutter. She travels light so it would mostly just be things necessary for survival and to make the trip moderately comfortable. She does carry a few gifts from her kids. (She avoids images of them for the children's safety.)

She also always has a snack stash. She's a mom and it's habit now.

VI. if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?

It'd be blue sandstone.

Photo from Crystal Maggie.

VII. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

She doesn't really collect things. She's not a big fan of owning more than she needs.

VIII. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

She'd be in Astarion and Gale's club. She loves to read and she'd ask those two for recommendations. She wouldn't mind hearing what Shadowheart and Wyll recommend though.

IX. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

Minthara. They do not like each other and they never see eye to eye on things. Paloma is so unlike lolth-sworn drow that she rarely gets on with any of them. She doesn't keep up with traditional drow politics either.

Paloma has a son and doesn't appreciate a lot of the choice words Minthara has to say about that.

X. do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?

She'd say speak with animals.

XI. what are their thoughts on clowns?

She hates them and considers them annoying, but just tries to ignore them when she can. She happily sends Minthara to go on stage with Dribbles.

One of her kids loves them so she knows way too much clown fandom lore. It's her curse.

XII. their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?

She's secretive so her companions would try to figure out what she's hiding. They would find little hints of something here and there. They'd be trying to solve the mystery and coming up with ideas.

While Shadowheart would respect her privacy, she's not above what she sees as harmless theorizing. She'd assume she was running away from something dark. Astarion would have the most outlandish theories about who she really is. Wyll would romanticize whatever her history is. Gale tries not to gossip about it, but he has some very educated guesses he wants to share.

They would also gossip about how unlike most drow she is. Minthara would loudly talk shit about her "behind her back."

The other gossip would be how she was good at hiding what a horndog she is until she met Halsin.

XIII. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

She has a deep and soft laugh. She has a very dry, deadpan sense of humor, but she can also be silly. Her kids can always make her laugh. She and Jaheira have a very similar sense of humor.

If she didn't hate Minthara so much, she'd admit she's really funny.

XIV. do they have any inside jokes among their companions?

She'd have a few with Halsin. There would be a lot of innuendo that would make everyone roll their eyes. I'm really struggling with the inside jokes part of this and I can't say why.

She and Jaheira would. I have to revisit this after I think of anything good to share.

XV. what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?

"Warm and snug, but made of flexible material in case heads need to roll in the middle of the night."

XVI. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

"Not the type of underwear associated with monks, but something a little more fun...."

XVII. how do they celebrate their birthday?

She's not used to taking time for herself so she never really celebrated her birthday. For years, only Lamia would acknowledge it and get her a gift and a slice of cake.

After the kids were old enough, they try to do things for their mom's birthday. They cook for her, take care of the house for her, and just want to do things with her. Halsin easily slips into that family dynamic. Halsin gives her meaningful gifts and makes sure she doesn't have to lift a finger for the day. The kids and Halsin always make sure she gets cinnamon rolls for her birthday breakfast.

XVIII. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

She'd binge shows like The Bear, Carol & the End of the World, Cunk on Earth, Mandy (she'd love Diane Morgan), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Fleabag, and Bridgerton.

She'd also watch UNHhhh and Drag Race with her sister, Lamia. She wouldn't ask Halsin to watch with her, but he probably would watch her favorite shows to understand her interests better. They'd watch so many documentaries together.

She would also be a Bluey mom.

XIX. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

I never name my playlists lol. I'm way too lazy.

Surface Pressure - Jessica Darrow

Reach - Madds Buckley

Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

She Used To Be Mine - Sara Bareilles

Momma's Got This - Kathryn Hahn, Kristen Bell, and Tituss Burgess

Zero Gravity - Kate Miller-Heidke

Moral of the Story - Ashe (about her ex and father of her children)

Eldest Daughter - Isabel Pless

No Time To Die - Billie Eilish (another one for her ex)

Ready Now - Dodie (this honestly works for Paloma/Halsin or her relationship with Lamia)

Like Real People Do - Hozier (for Paloma/Halsin)

Speechless - Alicia Keys ft Eve (for her children)

Sweetest Devotion - Adele (for her babies again)

Closer - Nine Inch Nails (for Paloma/Halsin)

Thousand Miles - Miley Cyrus ft Brandi Carlile

You're Gonna Be - Reba McEntire (for her children once more)

Praying - Kesha

Breath (2 AM) - Anna Nalick (it felt perfect for her and Lamia's bond)

Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore - Paramore

XX. if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?

She wouldn't have much aside from some money, snacks, and some pictures her children drew for her.

Lamia

I. what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

She tries not to smell too strongly of anything so she can sneak up on people more effectively. She'd probably smell like a mixture of leather and rosin if you got close enough.

If she's going to an event where she can dress up and doesn't have to worry about sneaking around, she smells like amber and honey with a touch of vanilla.

II. what would their blood taste like to vampires?

It'd be sweet and spicy like a sweet serrano chili sauce.

III. how would they kiss their LI?

She has two love interest options: Astarion and Wyll.

She's passionate, but often sloppy. She's not used to romance, but hot and heavy trysts and booty calls.

When in a more vulnerable state, she's more likely to give slow and/or delicate kisses.

IV. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

She runs hot and she's a flopper. She flops around in her sleep and steals all of the blankets. It's like sharing a bed with a cat.

She gets a little better at sharing her space over time. She still wakes up all over the place, or sprawled out over her lover.

V. what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

It is a mess. She has booze bottles that she promises she's going to toss out soon. There are plenty of knives and whatever objects and money she's stolen. She doesn't like being snuck up on so she always makes sure her tent is up against a wall or something.

VI. if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?

It would be white with red blood splatter

Photo from DigitalDice on Etsy.

VII. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

Not exactly. The girl just steals things and keeps it in her tent. Some things she keeps in case she "needs it" or she sells it.

VIII. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

Wyll/Shadowheart, without a doubt.

In a relationship with Astarion, he would be able to talk her into reading certain books. They'd have a private book club away from the others... that would turn into a lot of sex.

IX. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

Lae'zel. They don't hate each other, but they can't stand each other. They fight all of the time. It's amazing they haven't killed each other.

X. do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?

Speak with animals. She loves animals, what can I say?

XI. what are their thoughts on clowns?

Lamia loves clowns, especially when they make others uncomfortable. It's part of the joy. Astarion is so confused by this love. She definitely would go to a clown show with Wyll.

XII. their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?

She does a lot of the gossiping while simultaneously being offended when others gossip about her. She wants to be loved. But really there's a lot of "How do we solve a problem like Maria Lamia" going on behind her back. Her companions would be near mutiny until they realized she actually knows what she's doing. Then it'd go from judgmental to concerned. This girl really needs to get her life together.

I'm playing with her as a Dark Urge and after that's revealed, people would talk about that behind her back. Even if they trust her, it's hard not to gossip about hanging out with a real Bhaalspawn.

XIII. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

Campy things can get her to laugh. She does love sarcasm and anti-humor. Her sense of humor can be mean spirited, but she never wants to REALLY hurt anybody.

She has two laughs. Her low chuckle and her very loud cackle. Her cackle can be likened to an old school anime laugh.

XIV. do they have any inside jokes among their companions?

She and Astarion have a million inside jokes. I'm still blanking on what they'd be. They'd probably have way too many Bhaal jokes. She'd also have plenty with Wyll.

Naturally, she has a lot of inside jokes with Paloma. They're sisters, y'know? Since she's a Bhaalspawn, she'd have an inside joke or two with Orin and Gortash. Lamia often remembers weird shit people have said. Most of her inside jokes are this:

Gortash misspoke one time and now she'll never let him live it down, even as mortal enemies.

I have to figure out how to mash Lamia's original backstory with the Bhaalspawn storyline.

XV. what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?

"Though it's comfortable for a nice of restful sleep, it's also perfect for slipping away into the shadows."

XVI. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

"Why even bother wearing underwear at all?"

There's just not that much fabric.

XVII. how do they celebrate their birthday?

There'd be a lot of partying and drinking. She usually ends up totally trashed by the end of the night. There's a present pile for her and a lot of party foods.

As time passes, she does less crazy partying. She starts to value just getting some drinks with friends and having them show her with gifts and praise. (She isn't going to be a different person, just a calmer one.)

XVIII. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

She's binging a lot of UNHhhh, Rupaul's Drag Race, and The Boulet Brothers' Dragula. Astarion and/or Wyll would happily watch all three with her. Paloma already watches them with her and Lamia probably even has the kids watching it once they're old enough.

She'd watch a lot of reality TV, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, and True Blood. Astarion and Wyll would love it. You cant tell me they wouldn't love trash TV.

Wyll has a LOT of opinions on The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City.

XIX. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money) - Pet Shop Boys

Daisy - Ashnikko

Dirty Imbecile - The Happy Fits

Sweet But Psycho - Ava Max

Bad Girls - Tennis

Angry Too - Lola Blanc

Lilith - Ellise

How to Be a Heartbreaker - MARINA

Demons - Hayley Kiyoko

One Love Can Save Me Now - The Pretty Reckless (for either Lamia/Astarion or Lamia/Wyll)

Devil's Worst Nightmare - FJØRA

Psycho - Maisie Peters (I heard this and immediately thought Lamia/Gortash)

Joke's On You - Charlotte Lawrence

Villainous Thing - Shayfer James

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley (for Lamia/Astarion)

Work Song by Hozier (for Lamia/Wyll)

Mess Is Mine by Vance Joy (for Lamia/Wyll)

Tear You Apart - Megan McDuffee (for Lamia/Astarion)

Arms Tonite - Mother Mother (for Lamia/Astarion)

Nobody's Daughter - Hole

XX. if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?

Money and knives. So many knives. And then she'd stab whoever pickpocketed her with one of those knives.

#tw blood #bg3 tav #bg3 oc #Lamia #Paloma #20 TAV/OC QUESTIONS

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george-weasleys-girl · 2 years

Note

Absolutely ADORE your writing! 😍

Could you do one with Fred trying to set up George and reader please? The more ridiculous the scheme/plan the better. Freddie just screams pure extra to me but still wants to do his twin brother a solid.

Aww, thank you so much! 💕 You made my day! This was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoy it!!

The Matchmaker Pt. 1

~•~

George elbowed his twin in the arm. "Fred," he whispered. "Fred!"

"Ow, what?" Fred rubbed his arm.

"Look at Y/N," George said. "Look at how she scrunches up her nose when she's concentrating on something. Isn't it the most adorable thing you've ever seen?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Yes, I agree she's cute. Now, go ask her out after class."

"What? No, I can't do that!" George looked horrified. "What if she says no? I don't want to ruin our friendship."

Fred rubbed a hand over his face. "I've told you a million times that she's always making lovey eyes at you when you're not looking."

"But has she told you personally that she likes me?"

"No, but--"

"Have you heard her admit it to anyone else?"

"No, but--"

"Weasleys!" Snape hovered over them like a vulture. "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

George's face turned beet red and he glanced over at Y/N who was giving him a sympathetic smile.

"We were just discussing the absolute genius of your most recent potions assignment." Fred replied. "How do you do it? You must tell us your secret."

Giggles and snickering broke out all over the classroom.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the twins. "Ten points each from Gryffindor for disrupting the class with your ridiculous nonsense."

~•~

Two hours later, Fred was giddy with excitement. He'd devised a plan to finally get George and Y/N together once and for all.

All he had to do was make George jealous.

~•~

"You're not going to believe what happened," Y/N said, sitting down at breakfast next to George.

"What's that?" George asked.

"I got a letter from a secret admirer."

George was reaching out to pour her some juice and froze solid.

"A what?"

"A letter. From a secret admirer," she pulled a folded up piece of parchment out of her backpack. "Do you recognize the handwriting?"

Forgetting the juice, George snatched it out of her hand, reading it out loud.

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love.

"What kind of nonsense is this?" George asked.

"It's Shakespeare." Y/N's smile sagged a little. "Any idea who it could be from?"

George huffed. "Nope, but whoever it is has to use someone's else's words to express themselves. Pathetic."

"Oh." Y/N shoulders dropped. It was obvious now that it wasn't from George, who'd maybe disguised his handwriting somehow.

"What are you carrying on about over here, Georgie?" Fred asked.

"Look at this." George spat. "Y/N got a stupid love letter from a stupid secret admirer."

Before Fred could respond, Y/N yanked the letter from George's hands. "You may think it's stupid, but at least someone out there thinks I'm worth a little bit of romance!" She stuffed it into her backpack and stormed out of the Great Hall without another word.

Fred chewed on his lip to keep from smiling. His plan was going far better than he'd expected.

~•~

George and Y/N had been avoiding each other ever since the arrival of the letter. Fred wasn't worried, though. He expected that his twin would need a little extra nudging. Time to begin Phase Two.

The younger twin tried to pretend he wasn't watching Y/N. She and several other girls were sitting together outside, passing the letter around, most likely speculating who could've sent it. He couldn’t hear them, but he reckoned that's what they were yammering on about.

It was the second love letter she'd received in a week. 'Probably another stupid poem written by somebody else.' George rolled his eyes. If he wrote Y/N love letters, he'd write from his heart and not steal someone else's words.

George's heart ached at the sound of Y/N's tinkling laughter. She was holding the small bouquet of flowers that arrived with the letter. He rolled his eyes again. They weren't even her favorite. How could someone call themselves her admirer and not know her favorite flower? George was almost embarrassed for the poor sap. Almost.

~•~

Y/N put the bouquet in some water and placed them on her bedside. They were really quite lovely, as was the new letter. But, as lovely as they were, at the end of the day, they couldn't fill the gaping hole left by George, her best friend and the boy she loved more than anyone else on earth.

For the past week, George had refused to even look at her. She tried to pretend it didn't bother her, yet every time she tried to catch his eye and he'd look away, it was like a punch to the gut.

Y/N had considered trying to talk to him but chickened out every time. It was one thing for him to avoid her. It was a whole other to be rejected to her face. She couldn't bear it. At least in this ambiguous state, she could pretend she still had a chance.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst

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spookky-aint-spooky · 2 months

Note

Tell me more about Sabrina, I wanna know all the lore!

ooh, I've been waiting for this ✨✨✨

ok, so not everything's fleshed out yet, but here's what I have:

(ramble warning)

Childhood:

She was born in the Envy Ring, but her family moved to Lust when she was around 13

She has/had 5 siblings (most of which don't have names yet); all of them are younger than her, save for her older brother Cameron

Her father sure as hell wasn't a good man, being trapped in a loveless marriage with Marjanne (Sabrina's mom; who is quite the alcoholic)

He's a drug addict and has no regard for his wife or staying loyal to her, resulting in him frequenting Ozzie's to the point that the staff knows him personally

Sabrina was more of a parent to her mom and dad than her mom and dad were to her, so she was often calling taxis for her dad to take him home or leaving a hangover kit on her mom's nightstand

Despite Marjanne being a deadbeat for the most part, Sabrina and her Mom are very close, almost like best friends

Her dad, on the other hand, is not a fan of his kids at all

He pays for groceries and the rent on their tiny apartment, but that's basically it, having almost no involvement in their lives

Since Dad is also a deadbeat, this left Sabrina and Cameron to care for their younger siblings

Cameron was the breadwinner, while Sabrina usually made dinner and kept the littler kids safe (which caused them to have a close brother/sister relationship)

Adulthood:

When Sabrina and Cameron were on the verge of being adults (Cam being 19 and Sab being 16), the both figured they'd have some 'fun' during Extermination day

This was, you guessed it, a very dumb decision

They both went up to the pride wing with a knife and a handgun, trying to shoot/stab as many angels as possible like some kind of fucked-up video game

This led to Cameron jumping in front of Sabrina to prevent her from getting killed by an Exterminator, sacrificing his own life in the process

Sabrina was forced to run back down to Lust, frantically explaining to her mother (who was the only adult home at the time) what happened

After Cameron's death, Sabrina was forced to fill in his role as breadwinner on top of having to take care of their younger siblings

Once she turned 26, she found work in the Pride Ring and moved to the entertainment district (haven't decided her profession yet) after making sure her siblings had places to stay with foster/adoptive families

She rents a small apartment, making money where she can and staying afloat much easier than she used to

Additional/Notable Info:

Her full name is Sabrina Kowareta-Rivero, having a joint last name due to neither of her parents wanting to change their names (not sure if I wanna keep Kowareta as her real name or if I'm just gonna use it as a placeholder until I find something better)

Girlie is a Verosika Mayday stan; I mean swiftie-level fan. Posters? She has it. Vinyls? She has it. A replica of her heart-shaped glasses? She has it. Concert tickets from years past? She has it.

Her father is from the Envy Ring, so Sabrina has a few aquatic/envy traits like the ability to hold her breath for extended periods of time, green bioluminescent patches that she can make glow at will, and a pair of snake-like eyes on the point/spearhead of her tail

She loves swimming; if you gave her a choice she'd probably live underwater (unfortunately that is not an option; bills still need to be paid)

Her favorite genres are all over the place, ranging from slowcore/indie rock, hyperpop and country music

Since Hell's music mostly sucks (respectfully) she will often have a friend sneak up to Earth in a human disguise to buy things that allow her to listen to human music (i.e. she bought a phone from Walmart so she'd have access to a music streaming service that isn't Voxtify or SoundTown)

In addition to being a Verosika fan, she's also an enjoyer of Cigarettes After Sex, Morgan Wallen and Girl in Red

Her favorite song is likely 3 Nights by Dominic Fike; she often lights a cigarette and stands on her balcony as she looks over the entertainment district at night while listening to it

Bonus:

Sabrina: "I'm tired of this Grandpa..!"

Me, actively giving her trauma: "Well that's too damn bad!"

#I'm very sorry my child #sabrina rivero #helluva boss oc #helluva boss #helluva oc #helluva #hb oc #hb #spookky answers

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violetjedisylveon · 7 months

Text

Amnesia Chapter 15 - Trouble Arrives

Omega centric au

Summary: The bad batch arrives on Massanii and stirs up some trouble with the locals.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 🚫stalking, tracking, swearing, threats of violence🚫

A/N: I haven't started season three so don't give me any spoilers. Anybody know where I can watch it that isn't Disney plus? I wanna watch it this week. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Bad Batch Amnesia AU Masterpost

Ao3 link for the whole story

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Clone Force 99 arrived on Massanii in a day's time. Sneaking past the sector's own security had proven to be a serious challenge since it wasn't recorded anywhere and they were thoroughly unprepared for the sector's defense.

Echo was convinced that officer had only let them through for shits and giggles, they were no real threat to anyone, and they'd most likely be followed very closely.

There were only a few imperial escort vessels stationed in the capital city, but nothing else. The sector could handle it's security just fine.

The marauder landed about three clicks away from the town where the photos had been taken in an empty field.

They still needed a plan, Hunter had forgotten to make one in his rush to get here.

"So? What's the plan?" Echo prompted his little brothers.

Hunter opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what he was doing.

"Information gathering should come first. We want to know what we're dealing with here, both in terms of the people and the Pantoran we'll be talking to." Tech said.

"More like harassing." Echo grumbled under his breath.

Hunter gave him a side glare, which he ignored.

"I'll go-"

"No." He, Tech and Wrecker said in unison, cutting the former sergeant off.

"You are not mentally stable enough to handle this." Tech stated bluntly.

"You also look horrible, you'll scare everyone off." Echo added.

"I will go instead." Tech said.

Hunter tried to interrupt but Echo just spoke over him.

"Sounds good, I'll do some digging around with the locals." He said.

Again, Hunter tried to get a word in. This time Wrecker spoke over him.

"What should I do?" He asked.

"Keep Hunter on the ship." Echo ordered.

Hunter tried to object but Echo was faster.

"Maybe make him take another nap. He needs it." He added.

"Hold on!" Hunter shouted.

Echo made a point of looking down at him.

"Hunter, you're in no shape to do any good, you look like a walking corpse." He said before his little brother could object.

Hunter scowled at him, clearly thinking about ignoring him and going out anyway, he was probably going to pull rank. Echo placed his one hand firmly on Hunter's shoulder.

"Stay here, Ori'vod's(big brother's) orders."

XXX

Freyu caught a glimpse of the trooper, at least she thought he was a trooper, his armor was very different from the typical model, that had been tailing her whenever she came to town for the last week.

The first few days they had just watched her, occasionally showing up in a different spot but mostly stationary. She had felt the eyes on her the whole time.

Then they had moved and followed her a bit more and today, they were definitely following her.

They might have been trying to be inconspicuous, but their bright armor gave them away. Still, she carried on like she was unaware of her new shadow. She was way too observant to have not noticed them.

The Empire clearly had their eye on her, aside from the obvious that her brother and mother were once Jedi, she didn't know what they wanted or why she was so interesting to them. That definitely didn't warrant stalking in her opinion.

It was especially bad today because she'd brought Omega, disguised of course, with her. She had a very bad feeling about that trooper seeing Omega.

She rounded a corner and headed back to Alask's stall where Omega was waiting for her. The trooper followed her.

Freyu stamped her irritation down and booked it to Alask.

"Someone's following me." She said quickly in Massanese before they could come into hearing range.

"Do you know why?" Alask asked.

"No, think it's some Empire bullshit." She shook her head.

"Freyu!" Omega erupted from the back fo the stall and charged at her, slamming her body into her with a hug.

"Have fun with Alask, Jicelli?" She asked.

Fear briefly flashed through Omega's warm brown eyes before she nodded.

"Yeah, I had lots of fun!" She said, voice shaking.

Freyu heard and sensed the trooper closing in on her and pretended to still be unaware, right up until they got just that bit too close for comfort.

She turned on him with her arms crossed, smirking at the surprise she could see in his goggled eyes.

"Can I help you with something?" She prompted dryly.

"I…" he briefly glanced at Omega hiding behind her.

"I have a few questions for you." He said eventually.

Freyu groaned dramatically and scrubbed her face.

"I already got interrogated, your boss said you'd leave me alone after that." Freyu said.

"Yes, well there is something they forgot." He told her.

Freyu raised an eyebrow at his blatant lie. He wasn't a trooper, he was more likely a very bad bounty hunter. She gave his mind a subtle suggestion of confusion.

"Really? Where's the warrant?" She asked.

He froze for a second.

"Can't make me do anything without one of those." She said.

He glanced at Omega again, Freyu glared at him.

"You're talking to me, remember?" She reminded him.

He glanced at her with narrowed eyes.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Go ask your boss." She snapped.

The man glowered down at her, she glared right back and tapped her foot irritably.

"Are you done? Gonna leave me alone yet?" She asked after a moment.

He didn't give her any response. It didn't even look like he was looking at her, his eyes flicked around slightly. He must've had some sort of H.U.D. in his helmet, so he was scanning her at the moment, she cocked her head at an angle that covered part of her tattoos. If he was going to scan her, she wasn't going to make it easy.

"If you aren't about to fuck off, then tell me what you really want." She said.

The man glanced away from whatever display he was looking at and frowned.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Doesn't matter, fuck off." She ordered.

"The Empire-"

"Like I'm buying that, if you really worked for the Empire, you'd know my name." She cut him off.

"What? Do I look like someone who takes chances like that to you?" She asked, gesturing to the scarred side of her face.

"Now, if that's all, I've got to get going. I'm a very busy person." She said, waving him off dismissively.

"C'mon Jicelli, time to go home." She told Omega.

She put a guiding hand on the younger girl's shoulder as they started to walk away.

"Bye Alask, see you around." She waved to her friend.

She shot a glare over her shoulder at the man staring after them. She had a bad feeling about him.

"I don't wanna come to town for a while." Omega whispered to her once they were out of earshot.

"I think that's for the best." Freyu agreed.

XXX

Tech returned to the marauder hungry and frustrated with his lack of results over the past week. The most important thing he had learned was that the Pantoran was hyper vigilant and she was very wary of strangers.

He had tried running a scan on the markings she and the younger girl shared, seeing as they were family it could have given him something to work off of, but she had moved and concealed too much of it to be useful.

It seemed she was a very intelligent, cautious, and possibly paranoid, person.

With the context of the tattoo over her eye, she likely had good reason to be. Old Pantoran tattoos with simple slashes across the face were often done to symbolize betrayal.

As interesting as that was, he still had no leads on who she was and if the girl with her was his vod'ika.

Hunter won't be pleased. He sighed.

He could hear the argument before he opened up the hatch.

Echo and Hunter couldn't do anything else these days.

Hunter whipped towards him as he came in.

"Report." Hunter demanded.

"Nothing." Tech said shortly.

Echo groaned and threw his hands up, leaving the cockpit.

"Nothing? You have been out there for a week and you've learned nothing?" Hunter asked darkly.

Tech made a point of checking his mostly blank datapad before meeting Hunter's angry gaze.

"I did learn something, that Pantoran is smart and cautious. I am fairly certain that she will not be bringing the child with her for her next visit." Tech stated.

"Is that better?" He asked dryly.

He went around Hunter to the bunks so he could grab something to eat and go to sleep for a week.

Echo was in his hammock with his arm over his face.

"I don't suppose you learned anything useful?" Tech prompted his brother once he sat down to eat.

"She's a doctor of some kind, didn't really get much other than that. The locals trusted me about as much as she trusted you." Echo sighed.

"This is going to be difficult." He groaned.

"Really? I thought that much was obvious." Tech smirked at his older brother's glare.

XXX

Freyu sat across from Omega, legs crossed and hands resting on her knees.

They were meditating, it helped soothe Omega after a stressful event. She could sense the tension in Omega from their little run in earlier today.

Meditation was something she had started doing with her brother when he was around. He had said it would help her focus and it kinda worked. She had mostly used it as a way to check on Maatsu when he wasn't home.

She had stopped after he died since her mind would instinctively search for someone she couldn't find anymore. She had been a bit more regular with it lately but she was still training herself out of searching for Maatsu.

It was certainly helping Omega, and helping her understanding of Omega's condition.

Freyu didn't think her initial diagnosis of dissociative amnesia was correct anymore. She hadn't had much information at the time, so it was an easy enough mistake to make, but after almost four months of Omega living with her, it seemed a lot more like memory repression.

The memories were still there, somewhere locked off in her mind, they came to the surface in a confusing mess that was extremely difficult to make any sense of, but they were still there.

She hadn't ever had any real interest or reason to look into Omega's repressed memories, even when she started acting strange. Though her quick healing was certainly odd, she didn't need to find an explanation for it.

Until today.

The run in with that clone or bounty hunter or whatever was unsettling. The way he kept trying to get a look at Omega, it gave her a very bad feeling. He wasn't the first bounty hunter to go after Omega, she needed to know why so she could make a decision on what to do next.

She needed to get into Omega's head without triggering her, and she couldn't tell Omega exactly what she was doing. With the Empire and bounty hunters watching them, it was dangerous to reveal herself.

Though Omega probably suspected something was odd about her, she clearly knew when not to ask questions.

"Next time you go to Mlikix, can I stay home?" Omega's quiet voice broke through her thoughts.

Freyu smiled and nodded.

"Of course, if that's what you want." She said.

She felt Omega's tension melt away. While at the same time a stubborn nugget of some emotion remained.

"Thanks." Omega said softly.

"It's not a problem at all, Meg'ika." Freyu said.

XXX

Freyu didn't go to sleep when she put Omega to bed. She had far too much to do.

First on her nightly to-do list was to check the ammunition stocks hidden in various places around the house, and make sure the weapons stored with them still worked. They hadn't been checked or cleaned in a couple of years, so she should probably give each a quick cleaning.

She also had to check the security system and the house's defenses. Tesi had been managing them the last seven years, she could probably tap the droid to give the system a bit of a boost and a warning for intruders.

And once all that was done, she needed to make notes of what she had seen poking around in Omega's head today.

Then of course she had to train and stay on top of her orders. She could take a nap sometime before Omega woke up.

Freyu nodded to herself and went about her busy night.

She wasn't going to be caught with her guard down this time.

XXX

Freyu checked her surrounding before she stepped out into the street. That clone bounty hunter guy wasn't here today, she was safe enough right now.

She'd thought about telling the Empire about it's misbehaving troops, but she decided against it, she didn't want any more attention from them than she already had.

She crossed the street to Cai's shop. Someone in the family was always there, and she could easily contact him through it. And he was probably working somewhere nearby.

Eppur was sitting at the desk, he was definitely the type for the more in door side of work, but all of them took turns, Massii couldn't stand to be inside for too long.

"Freyu." Eppur eyed her with narrowed eyes.

"What have you gotten yourself into that you come here to contact us and not the ranch house?" Eppur asked, straight to the point as always.

"I'm being followed by someone, I don't know why." Freyu explained quickly.

She hadn't gone to their ranch because she didn't want to drag them any further into a possible mess than she had too. If someone was really stalking her, it was best for her to be discreet about everything.

"Would you like to borrow one of our birds?" Eppur prompted.

"If he's comfortable with that, I would greatly appreciate it." Freyu nodded.

"I'll let him know, head on back to pick a bird." Eppur told her.

Freyu quickly slipped behind the counter into the back room. There were a few birds of prey, but that wasn't the true purpose of this room.

She waited in the bird room until Cai came in through the back door.

"What do you need?" Cai asked.

"I need eyes, ears and information."

XXX

Freyu left the shop with a basket of the family's products, including a new blanket for Omega from Xillyn, xir first professional blanket.

She spotted something out of place immediately.

A human disguised as a droid. It was a decent disguise, though it wouldn't work on any species that could smell or sense what was really in there.

She got that same gut feeling she got with that bounty hunter impersonating a trooper from him.

He spotted her and started walking her way. Freyu headed towards the market, both for the safety in numbers there and to gather some things she needed for a surprise. She picked up her pace, but he caught up with her quickly.

She cursed her height.

"May I have a word?" The stranger asked politely.

Freyu rolled her eyes and kept walking.

"Have two, Fuck off." She snarled.

“I really do need to talk to you.” He said.

She whirled around, vibroblade in hand, and faced him.

He wisely didn't get any closer and actually took a step back.

“I don't know what your deal is with me and my sister, but you better fuck off before I really get pissed.” She growled.

“I'm just trying to talk.” He insisted, putting his hands up in defense.

Freyu glared at him. He may have only been talking but she knew the other wanted something from her.

“Tell your buddy to come out.” She ordered.

He hesitated a moment before motioning for his companion, the same guy who had been stalking her, to come out. The companion moved slowly and carefully, afraid of setting her off even more.

“Whatever you want here, you won't get it. Whoever you think my sister is, she's not. And I would be greatly appreciative if I didn't have to kill anyone, I just polished my blades and I don't want to deal with the bodies right now.” She said.

The disguised man lowered his hands and glanced at his companion. His companion gave him some signs, Freyu glowered at the pair.

“I'll do my best to convince them, I can't make any promises. I am very sorry for the inconveniences we've caused you.” He said.

“I won't poison you then.” Freyu said.

She sheathed her blade and continued down her path towards the market, catching the pair's confusion as she left.

“Did she say poison?”

“Yes. I did say she makes medicine, she must work with toxic healing plants.”

“That sure is good to know.”

She made a mental note to poison her blades for her next trip into town, just to be safe.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

I finally got them all on the same planet! It only took 15 chapters but I did it!This is where the fun begins alright!I'm so excited to be at this point in the story!

I realized Omega's situation is definitely more memory repression than any type of amnesia, so it's actually memory repression that she has, I'm still gonna use the name amnesia because that's what this is always called and in all my files it's amnesia and that's too many to change.

I hope you all have a good day, whatever that is for you!

VJS Out!

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shebeafancyflapjack · 5 months

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Little hurt/comfort ficlet for @idiotwithanipad x

Robin & OC

Most of the time she managed to block out her 'gift', having had nearly twenty years to train herself to ignore the dead people who existed everywhere she went, the majority of them easy enough to spot with their outfits, the way they weaved between livings without getting a passing glance, or outright walking through walls and furniture.

As a child, she'd had the excuse of being an imaginative kid who acquired many "imaginary friends" to talk to. As a teenager that didn't go down quite so well. Not that she usually cared if people looked at her as a weirdo. It was more the 'getting sectioned' possibility that concerned her.

Her parents had gone on and on about how old this hotel was, how it apparently had enough history to warrant a quick tour offered by the resort. So Amy expected more than a few ghosts to pop up here and there. Thus far she'd done her best not to make eye contact with the giddy Georgian woman or the Bridgerton Ken who had been in the reception.

It was a little more of a trial to ignore the caveman scurrying around her room, sniffing at the leftovers of her dinner she'd ordered through room service, nostrils flaring above the lone slice of pepperoni pizza.

"Ooo, smell so good. Wonder how you taste. Cheese taste like cow bum? It all come from same." The feral man was muttering to himself.

Once he got bored of inhaling the food, he was judging her parents choice of books that they'd brought, having dumped them on their bedside tables.

Amy covered her head beneath a large pillow as he continued his one-sided conversation.

"Fanny read this one. Butler no do it, it maid disguise as butler. And she also vampire. Big twist but saw it coming. Oooh, Christine Lampard autobiography! Me want read! Might put on Christmas list-."

"PLEASE WILL YOU SHUT UP!"

He raised his head in time to see the pillow she's thrown hurtle towards him and he ducked to the side to dodge it. He blinked at her in wonder.

"You see me?!"

"Yes! I can fucking see you, all right?!" She confessed through gritted teeth, knowing she'd probably made her situation worse now.

The caveman gave an excited whoop and jumped like a hyperactive five year old.

"This so cool! We have new friend who see! Almost never happen. Me gotta tell others-."

"No, please, please don't!"

Perhaps it was the crack in her voice, brought on by a surge of pain throughout her muscles as she tried to reach forward, that made the ghost stop in his tracks and turn back to her.

His excitement quickly morphed into concern as his eyes met Amy's, her own shining with tears.

"You no look so good..." The man frowned, one of his hands reaching up to stroke at his shift.

"Gee thanks, haven't heard that before. You're not exactly Chris Hemsworth, mate." She bristled; "I'm fucking ill and don't need to have a party of dead people storming in giving me a headache on top of everything else. It's bad enough my earphones have crapped out on me."

"What you got? Plague?" He asked, inching a little closer to her bed.

She huffed a laugh; "Not quite...but my body gets these sores. Don't think it's the same as that bubonic thing but fucking feels like it sometimes." Amy held her arm to show the spirit the angry looking lumps and scars near her armpits.

"Ouchie. They no look fun." He said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

She lowered her arm, slowly, wincing a little.

"Those aren't even the worst ones. The others are in...awkward places."

"That why you not downstairs with mum and dad at dinner and the show?" Her mum had been going on and on about this famous illusionist being the big star tonight, some Derren Brown-wannabe.

She nodded, miserably; "Wasn't expecting to flare up like this, or else I'd just stayed at home. At least then I'd have all the stuff in my room. Netflix don't even work on the TV here."

"Yeah, WiFi on blink since...some ghost, me not know who, play around with router when bored." He said, bashful, scratching at his ear. "So...they leave you here alone?"

"S'not like they abandoned me, I just didn't wanna make a fuss 'cause I know how much Mum's been looking forward to this." She sighed and waved her phone up; "Signal is crap here too so can't even WhatsApp."

"What's what?" He asked, turning his head to the side.

"No, WhatsApp."

"What is app?"

"No! I..." She couldn't help but laugh, realising how ridiculous this was, "Just something I use to text my mates. They're probably sick of listening to me moan too..."

"...You can moan to me if want?" He said, shuffling closer; "Me good listener."

Amy smiled at him a little; "Don't wanna be pitied, thanks. Anyway, I'm sure you got more exciting things to be watching."

"Eh. Me seen how that guy on stage do his tricks. Take all fun out. Lot to do with mirrors. Clever but boring. Rare me get to speak to living girl."

"Rare? So...I'm not the first?" Amy had never met anyone else with her gift.

"Lady who own hotel before golfy people come, she see us after my friend almost kill her. No, it cool! We good now!" The caveman assured after Amy's face went pale with terror; "She like family and come visit."

"She could see you guys because she almost died once?" Amy asked; "So she's not...chronically ill, like me?"

The caveman shook his head; "No think so. Just got bumpy on head. She say she now crazy forever but no ouchy scars and lumps and pain."

"Lucky cow." Amy clicked her tongue. She'd always thought her gift had something to do with having to deal with the constant agony, as well as other health issues she'd had as a baby.

Speak of the devil, another surge of agony hit her from her lower back as she shifted against the mattress.

"Shit!" She swore.

"Woah, woah, you 'kay?" The caveman fretted.

"Yeah, just a reminder to take my painkillers." She went to get off the bed, having left them on the sideboard, only for one of her feet to become tangled in the bedsheets.

Amy nearly fell before two hands caught her by the shoulders, fingers grazing against some of her abscesses. Painless.

"Fuck, that would've been embarrasing. Thanks, mate." She smiled, turning to see an almost cartoonish level of shock on the dead man's fuzzy face; "Uhh, you okay?"

"I....I touch you....?"

"Uhm, yeah, I've always been able to touch ghosts...Can that friend of yours not do that?" She asked, reaching for her pills and grabbing some water.

He shook his raggedy mane; "Only see and hear, but touchy hurt us, same as all other living people. You..." He poked her arm cautiously, mouth agape with awe at the contact, before poking again; "Ha ha!"

"All right, stop that now." Amy batted his hand away.

He retreated, looking regretful; "Oh, sorry. It hurt, yes?"

"No, it was just annoying." She laughed, sitting back down on the mattress; "It's weird. Ghosts are the only ones who can touch me where it's sore without hurting me. Don't invite too many of those though. Used to have a dead friend when I was a kid but...she moved on, I think." Amy looked down at her ebony nail polish, morose.

"Ah. Go up to stars. Me have many friends do same. I name each star for them." He explained, warmly.

"Her name was Lana, if you wanna find one for her." Amy said, quietly; "Speaking of names, do you have one?"

"Many. Most of them insults. But friends call me Robin." He said, holding his hand out to her.

It was a bit cliché but she supposed he rarely got a chance to meet anyone like this, so she shook it. "I'm Amy."

The fur of his sleeve brushed against her wrist. She couldn't resist the urge to feel it properly, softer than any comfort blanket.

"Wow...Is that...real wolf?" She asked, partly freaked out but also a little amazed - couldn't really compare hunting for clothes in this guy's time to the fashion industry today.

He nodded, then gently took her hand and pressed her fingers to different parts of his outfit.

"That bit cougar, that some wild dogs, that leather obviously from cow, and rest mostly mammoth." He explained.

"Real mammoth? Woah." Now that was pretty awesome. She'd never be able to meet one but she could say she'd felt one.

It definitely beat the hotel duvet.

She didn't want to move her hand away. It felt so soothing to be able to touch something, someone, so warm and soft without her skin being irritated. But this must look super weird from Robin's point of view.

"You look sad again. More pain?" He asked, reaching to touch her hand on his fluffy chest.

She shook her head; "No, s'just....My mum tried to give me a cuddle earlier when she could see I wasn't doing good and I had to tell her not to, even though I sure as shit need one right now. Pathetic, right?"

"No it not. I had little cousin, her skin like tissue paper, very delicate, tear easily. Big hugs make her cry too. But she brave and strong to survive. Like you." He told her, squeezing her hand; "We wrap her up in special leaves with Moonah blessed water to try to help. Not sure it did much good but we not have Doctor Google in them times. We just do best we can to ease pain."

"Well...you're doing a good job now." She praised, feeling the burning sensation ease a little with him being so close.

"You...want me to stay?"

"...Could you?" She couldn't understand why he would want to but didn't want to question it.

He nodded, a little bashful, as if he was just as new to the concept of being asked to stay for company.

"Want me to stay quiet still?"

Amy smiled; "Not too quiet, just not rambling out loud like you were doing. You look like you've been here for thousands of years, you must have some stories to tell. Could you just...tell me some of those till I get sleepy?"

"Ooh, yes. Hehe. Get comfy. Me know great one you like about man killed in library." He said, rubbing his hands together.

Getting comfortable was easier said than done in her condition, especially as she pulled away from his touch.

"I...Uhm...God, this is so cringe." She muttered to herself.

"What?"

"Would you be okay to just...hold me?" She asked, cheeks turning pink.

He smiled and nodded, shuffling to lay down and slide his arms around her, as she shifted into them, snuggling against the warm body of fur and skin and wild hair.

"This okay? Amy no ouch?" Robin whispered, fingers moving up to stroke through her hair.

She hummed, content at last; "Amy no ouch. Thanks, Robin."

A soft chuckle came from the long dead man as be continued to hold her close, his etheral presence doing nothing to aggravate her sores. On the contrary, a strange heat seemed to vibrate from his fingers as they brushed over her abscesses, melting the pain away.

It was a shame that ghost therapy wasn't prescribed on the NHS.

Amy relaxed in the man's arms and listened as he began the thrilling tale of the pirate captain who'd been slain in the library.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #bbc ghosts fic #robin x oc #platonic fluff

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sophieswundergarten · 1 year

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Mundane Magic/Superpowers that I think MBS Humans would have

Mr. Benedict can tell just the right trick to get someone talking. He uses this on occasion for more sneaky things, like getting important information out of a government agent who'd otherwise be hesitant to share by offering them a plate of cookies, but most often it's directed toward giving his family the confidence to say what's on their mind. More or less eye contact, a hug or keeping his distance, playing a game or even just sitting together quietly. He knows each of the people he loves intimately well, and he can tell when there's something weighing on their hearts. However, there are definitely times when he uses this emotional intuition to pull pranks or silly secrets out of them, and while there's a slight surprised indignation, the moment always ends in laughter.

Number Two never runs out of dishes. It doesn't matter if she's cooking or making everyone hot chocolate or even putting away leftovers. The entire kitchen could be a disaster, but she will always have just the right container free. Somehow, whatever she needs is right there in the cabinet. She barely even bothers to look anymore, just reaching in and knowing that at the tips of her fingers will be the right sized mixing bowl, or the correct number of spoons, or another pie dish for Moocho. Some days, she won't necessarily find what she's looking for, but she'll find what is needed. Mr. Benedict's favourite mug, Kate's hand-painted bowl, the plate she always uses to bring SQ snacks. And she'll simply shrug and go about preparing whatever that person needs. (It's always appreciated)

Rhonda always knows the right colours for things. Beyond just having an artistic eye, she knows how the right patterns and designs will influence a person. Colour theory to the max. She can make herself look younger, older, more credible, or even on death's doorstep. Half of her disguises are based around the right shade of cloth, and besides that, she can extend her skills to interior design too. Why do you think Mr. Benedict's study is so particularly calming to him? She sets up each of the children's rooms, and though she may not have known them for long, somehow she got everything right, to the point that Sticky asks if she'd been spying on them to ascertain their favourite colours.

Milligan is always the right temperature for day-to-day events. He brings a jacket everywhere in case, because he likes to be prepared, but rarely needs it. More often than not, he ends up giving it to someone else because they got cold. Even when moving in and out of buildings, he adapts quickly to whatever the weather or indoor temperature might be. Even if it's a slightly chillier day, and he did think that a sweater would be needed, the instant Kate starts shivering he takes it off, and finds that he probably didn't need it after all. Rain never seems to stick to him, rolling off his hat and overcoat like he's a duck, and though his hair might be damp, he's never soaked by anything less than a torrential storm.

Miss Perumal makes the perfect cup of tea. No matter who she's making it for or how much, she has just the right timing to get the best flavour. It doesn't matter if it's a special kind of tea leaves she bought intentionally and has been saving or if it's the weird stuff kept in hotel rooms, tea made by her hands is always the best. Of course, when she takes the time to intentionally make tea just for a specific person it has the added bonus attached, but there's always something comforting about a cup of tea from her.

Curtain never has his ink bleed when he's writing. Anything he commits to paper, even if it's a harried scribble, always is perfectly legible to him. Pencil graphite never smears for him, and he is consistently able to find a writing utensil when he needs one. When he was in school, he never had to borrow one, his pencils were always sharp and his pens never died. (It was unknown whether they simply kept working until he finished writing and then disappeared or were lost, or if he really just used the same one for years on end)

Garrison keeps impeccable time in her head. She barely even needs a stop watch for times up to five or ten minutes (But she keeps one on hand anyways). Timing experiments, keeping track of how long she needs to finish tasks, even remembering how long it takes other people to do things if she's seen them do it enough. She doesn't want to believe that she has this ability, even though no matter how many times she tests it she comes up with near perfect results, but sometimes she finds herself relying on it absentmindedly.

SQ has never broken or lost a single piece of his art supplies. No matter what's happening, or where he's been, he's always able to find everything safe in his bag. He doesn't even need to be paying attention, but whatever colour of pencil or type of tool he grabs when he's too focused on his work to look up is exactly what he needs. There's something about his art that seems more vibrant and alive than most others', and even he isn't completely sure how exactly what he's picturing in his mind transfers so perfectly to the physical world.

Reynie gives the best hugs. It doesn't matter who it is, or how badly their day has been going, he always knows just the right amount of pressure. His hugs never last too long, even though he's never the first one to pull away. He finds the right position for his arms and the correct way to lean into the person he's hugging no matter their height. Even if he's in a completely separate room, or if the person goes off to be on their own, something will nag at him to go find them, and when he does it's always a welcome intrusion. The others never even have to ask, which is good for some of them who struggle with verbally requesting affection. As soon as the thought enters their head to wish for a hug, he's right there, ready to offer one, with a smile entirely free of judgement.

Sticky's books stay open to the right page no matter what. Even if he closes it, the next time he picks it up it will fall open right where he left off. He always remembers where he stopped reading, obviously, but it's a nice comfort to have the books immediately settle on where he last was. On occasion, however, the pages will turn not to what he was reading, but what he needs to read. When he's feeling alone, the notebook he keeps his friends' letters in will fall off the shelf; sometimes an operating manual will tip over on his desk just a few minutes before his mother's wheelchair acts up; and he has great success finding recipe cards that Number Two would have sworn had been lost for months on the very day they're wanted.

Kate has a keen sense for when things will last. Rope, tools, even furniture, all she has to do is look at it for a moment and she'll be able to tell whether or not it will be worth using. She would always check the harnesses and equipment at the circus, warning the other performers if something was nearing a breaking point. Once she meets the others, she will sometimes take a day where she works her way through Mr. Benedict's study with her friends, making a stack of books whose binding is getting particularly fragile. She also is very careful to sneakily dispose of any dishes that might have hidden stress fractures, since so many people in their family are sensitive to the loud shattering noises.

Constance can always find blank paper. It doesn't matter where they are, or what's going on, there's either a stack of free brochures she can disassemble or a flyer she can steal or a scrap of notepaper buried deep in her pocket that she evidently forgot about. There were a couple of times her family was concerned she was just tearing the end pages out of books, but she insisted that she would never do that, citing how upset it would make Mr. Benedict (And the rest of them, even though she won't admit it) Most often she uses these to write down her poems, but if there's ever an important message she must pass on, or a vital detail that needs to be recorded, she always has enough space to ensure everything is included.

Moocho, of course, can bake amazing pies. However, beyond his skilled ability to never tear or burn crusts, he is always able to intuit portions. It's a little like Kate being able to know measurements, but even if there's no notice that there's going to be a guest, something will tell him to make extra. He always knows how hungry someone is, even if they deny it, and will give them the right amount of food. Everyone eventually learns to trust him, and on some rainy day when the larger serving dishes are pulled out, they are certain to set an extra place at the table.

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incorrectshantaequotes · 2 years

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Much Ado About Birdsong - Chapter 1

In the midst of a week where all the half-genies managed to get together in Scuttle Town, Rottytops sets up a plan to get Sky and Bolo together! But when her plan goes in a completely unexpected direction, Sky gets an opportunity to reflect on herself while Bolo gets some much-needed advice.

---

Chapter 1: In which a scheme is hatched

---

I really need to break out the Fillin outfit more, Rottytops idly mused to herself, watching outside with her pair of binoculars.

Was it really necessary? No, not really - she didn't really have any benefit to pretending to be a half-genie anywhere, and at least in Scuttle Town, most of the townpeople had seen her around enough times to instantly see through the disguise. Was it practical? Again, no, her usual outfit took far less time to throw together. Sure, she could just instantly change into it via magic...but where would be the fun in that? So, no, she didn't really have much reason to bring it out again.

Rotty did have to admit the outfit made a nice change of pace, though, sitting here in it. It was one of her more elaborate designs, so there was that sense of self-accomplishment there, the fabric was rather soft, so it was fairly comfortable, the sleeves and pants were light and airy by design, and the ponytail...well. She didn't usually experiment with different hairstyles, but the ponytail...

Running her hand through it, Rottytops put down her binoculars, taking a moment to think. After a short pause, she shot a glance behind herself. "Hey, Snackcakes - should I grow out my hair?"

"Huh?" "Snackcakes," better known as Shantae, looked up to meet Rottytops' gaze, raising an eyebrow in confusion. In contrast to the zombie's elaborate outfit, she'd opted for her pajamas. A bit more fitting, considering how they were hosting a sleepover. "What brought this on?"

"Eh, you know," Rottytops shrugged, turning away to resume peering through her binoculars. "Idle thoughts."

"I mean...I don't mind either way, but don't you prefer short hair?" Shantae pointed out, shifting her position on the pile of pillows she was currently lying on.

"I do! Short hair's definitely more my thing, I think. It's just..." The zombie couldn't help but wistfully smile, fully turning her attention back to Shantae as she put the binoculars down. "All I can think about is us matching hairstyles...you showing me how to wash it...giving me a cute little braid..."

Rottytops turned her body over and crawled over on her knees to get closer, eyes glinting and her smile making a slight turn into a grin as she put her hand into the half-genie's mass of purple hair and ran it down. "Just running your hands through my hair alllllllll day long..."

"...oh." Shantae promptly flushed, both face and ears turning a very interesting shade of crimson, before quickly shaking her head to regain her composure. Somewhat, anyway. "W-well, that sounds very nice and all, but you do realize that would be a very big commitment, right? Seriously, you don't know how many bottles of shampoo I have to go through just to keep my hair like this through all the adventures we've been on...and-"

The half-genie paused, her mind caught on something. "Can zombies even grow hair?"

"That..." Rottytops had to look down, finger tapping her chin as she considered. "...huh. That is a very good question, and one I do not know the answer to. I mean, if you were born a zombie, probably, but I wasn't, so how does that...? Eh, there's probably some way to make it happen."

"Well, whatever the case-" Shantae was promptly interrupted by a knocking, causing her ears to perk up as she looked over Rottytops' shoulder. "Oh! I think they just showed up! Rotty, if you could-"

"Got it," The zombie nodded, moving over to the side and gesturing to the window.

"Thank you," Shantae sighed with a smile, before heading over to the window herself, unlocking it, and poking her head out to the evening air. "COME ON IN!"

With that invitation given, Shantae closed the window and pulled back to her pillows, looking up at Rottytops and patting one of them on the side. "Do you wanna...?"

"Mmmmm, maybe later," Rottytops turned away, picking up her binoculars. "Cuddling is nice and all, but if the party's shown up, I gotta shift into full scheming mode. You know how it is, right?"

"Riiiiight..." Shantae narrowed her eyes, lips curled in a slight frown. "You still haven't told me what that's about."

"Ah, don't worry! You'll find out with everyone else, so just relax, will ya?" Rottytops laid back with a wave of her hand, a small chuckle escaping her as she resumed watching through the binoculars.

"Well, that isn't foreboding at all," Shantae muttered as she pressed her fingers to her forehead, already well-acquainted with her girlfriend's schemes, and as such already fully skeptical of how this one would turn out. Her mood was quick to perk up, however, when her first guest stepped into the room, and she turned to greet her with a smile. "Harmony!"

"Hello, Shantae!" The older half-genie waved, giving a smile to the younger. She was currently wearing a more casual version of her regular outfit - something simple that covered more skin, with the only bit of metal on her being her ponytail. "I must say, it's nice to be able to visit. How far are you in the scrapbook, by the way?"

"Page 73!" Shantae answered proudly, before her grin promptly turned sheepish. "I, uh, was kinda hoping to be further along by this point, honestly, but it's a big book, and...you know how busy life as a Guardian Genie gets, right?"

"Of course," Harmony nodded in sympathy, before shifting her eyes to look over Shantae's shoulder. "And I see Rottytops is doing well."

"'Sup?" Rottytops waved, not even sparing a glance as she stared through her binoculars.

Before Harmony had a chance to respond, another voice came from behind.

"Half-Genie Festival reunion, huh?" Stepping out from the door came Zapple, also dressed more casually than her usual armored get up - this time, in a simple red and gold bodysuit similar to fencer's gear. "Is that what we're doing here, Rottytops? Or should I say...Genue N. Jeanie?"

That was enough to give Shantae a moment of pause, before turning to give her girlfriend a flat stare. "Really?"

"Hey, I was under duress and didn't have time to think of a better one! I think we can all agree my naming chops weren't up to par during the Siren Island thing, alright?" Rottytops argued, finally putting down her binoculars as she went.

"No kidding," Came a snort from Vera. She'd come in at the same time as Zapple, opting to switch out her traditional Tree Town garb for a floral-patterned shirt and a simple skirt. "What was the one you used for me again? Toobi Ornot-Tubee?"

"Heyyyyyyyy..." Rottytops pouted, stubbornly ignoring how Shantae giggled. "Not in front of her, you guys! Besides, THAT ONE was good. Instant classic, I think. Complete ten out of ten."

"Man, what did you even use for Plink?" Shantae asked, eyes twinkling as she teased. "'Yoranem Here,' or something?"

The talkative zombie, for once, clamped her mouth shut, shooting her eyes away from the half-genie. Shantae's mirth gradually shifted to disbelief as the seconds passed on.

"...you're kidding," Shantae pressed, eyes wide. "You're kidding, right?"

"...like I said, I was under durress-"

"I'm here!" Thankfully for Rottytops, she got a prime interruption in the form of the half-genie relevant to the conversation barging in. She was dressed in her usual get-up, surprisingly, with her pajamas carried underarm as she took a few moments to recover from her exertion. "I'm here, I'm here...sorry I'm late, I..."

Plink, now fully taking in the group, let her words trail off, looking between the half-genies (and zombie). "...am I late?"

"We haven't started anything yet, so I wouldn't say so, no," Harmony shook her head, bemused.

"Oh! Good, good..." Plink sighed in relief, plopping herself down next to Vera. "I was worried that I wouldn't make it when I got held up."

"Held up by what, exactly?" Shantae queried, tilting her head curiously.

"Well, uh...your mayor kinda thought his attic was haunted?" Plink scratched her head sheepishly. "It was actually some creaky floorboards, but he didn't believe me when I told him that, so I had to fake an spiritual communion to get him to let me go. He only gave me fifty gems on top of that..."

"That sounds like Mayor Scuttlebutt, alright," Shantae groaned in clear sympathy, patting the other half-genie on the shoulder before leaning back and looking over the entire group. "...so, with you here, that's everyone, yeah? We got everyone?"

After a quick chorus of confirmation, Shantae turned towards Rottytops. "Do you want me to kill the lights for dramatic effect?"

"You know me so well," Rottytops remarked with a toothy grin, and with that, the half-genie of Scuttle Town reached over and flicked off the lights, plunging them in darkness. Not a second later, the beam of a flashlight cut through, highlighting Rottytops' face.

"Esteemed ladies," Rottytops rolled, her voice taking on a more dramatic flair as she looked over the assembled group. "I assume you're wondering why I gathered you all here..."

Slowly, Plink raised a hand, blinking in confusion. "...to...have a sleepover?"

"Well, yes, we're doing that, BUT! That's not the only thing," Rottytops informed, finger pointing up as her grin turned mischevious. "No, this is a matter of grave importance.

"As you know, Snackcakes and I are officially dating now-" Rottytops paused suddenly, dramatics wiped away for a moment as she looked out to the crowd. "You did know that, right? I remembered to send you those letters?"

"Well, I did hear about it from Shantae," Harmony idly remarked, a rare smirk coming up as she looked at the zombie. "Who was quite estatic about the whole ordeal, might I add! I don't recall recieving a letter from you, though."

"I caught on just from watching you two, but didn't really want to say anything?" Plink admitted, fiddling with her fingers.

"Well, I didn't," Vera shrugged, giving a thumbs up. "Happy for you two, though!"

"...you weren't dating before?" Zapple asked, clearly befuddled.

"Ah. Alright. Note to self - use sticky notes next time," Rottytops muttered, before shaking her head and regaining her composure. "Well! As some of you knew, Snackcakes and I are officially dating now, but there's one little thing that has yet to be addressed, and that would be...ah, Shantae, could you turn on the lights real quick?"

With a quick nod, the half-genie obliged, earning a grateful thumbs-up from the zombie in turn. She then turned her attention to the window once more, binoculars laser-focused as she scanned the town, before promptly lighting up with an, "Aha! Vera, come over here."

Raising an eyebrow, Vera cautiously stood up and walked over, taking the binoculars at the zombie's behest. "Look over there, and what do you see?"

"Okay, I see..." Vera trailed off for a moment, holding the binoculars close as she scrutinized the area before spotting what she was meant to see. "Oh! That's Bolo, isn't it? Looks like he's shooting his shot with a girl, and...ouch. Rejected, looks like."

The refresh magic specialist put down the binoculars, face twisted in an uncomfortable grimace. "Man, I remember seeing him doing that at the half-genie festival, too. I kinda feel bad, you know? Like, if you actually talk to him, he's a nice guy, it just feels like he took all his advice on romance from the wrong crowd."

"You said it," Zapple nodded, firmly in agreement. "Did you know he managed to give me some helpful tips with blacksmithing? Me. The Half-Genie of Armor Town. And he wasn't even condescending about it, he just pointed it out. How he hasn't applied that sort of thing to his flirting game is beyond me."

"Okay, cool, glad we're all on the same page here," Rottytops nodded, before grabbing the binoculars from Vera and adjusting them, searching a different area of Scuttle Town before nodding. "Okay, Plink this time. What do you see?"

"Uh...let me look real quick..." Plink scooted over, gently holding the binoculars before peering through their lenses. "That's...Sky? Yeah, that's Sky, sitting at a table. She seems really stressed about something."

"Which is the result of multiple things, but! I assure you that at least one of them is romance, because, no offense to Sky," Rottytops started, now on a roll as her monologue continued. "But her dating history? Kinda sucks!"

"You can mean some offense, I think," Shantae muttered, a bit of irritation bleeding into her voice. "Still think she should've done more about Armor Baron..."

"To be fair, even without the influence of his brother, Armor Baron surely had some kind of magical artifact somewhere on the island," Harmony patted the younger half-genie on the shoulder. "It's probably for the best that she let him be."

Then, she frowned, a slight bit of concern on her face as she looked up. "That being said...where are you going with this?"

"What, isn't it obvious?" Rottytops remarked. "He wants romance. She wants romance. And yet, somehow, despite all odds, neither of them ever once thought about looking at the person right next to them. It's maddening, is what it is! So, ladies, what I have gathered you here today to do, is to discuss..."

The zombie then zipped over to Shantae's closet, and with a dramatic flourish, slammed it open to reveal a chalkboard that she promptly rolled out. "Operation 'Get These Two To Get Over Themselves Already'!"

She turned to the half-genies gathered before her. "Eh? Eh?"

Zapple shrugged, making a middling gesture with her hand. "Mmmm...name gets the point across, but it's a bit of a mouthful."

"It's a work in progress," Rottytops acknowledged with a nod. "Anyway! The plan! Now, as much as I would like to claim to be a master of romance, I do have to admit that me and Shantae don't have the most...typical history for couples..."

"Didn't one of you say your first meeting you asking Shantae to a race for her brains?" Plink asked, squinting as she tried to remember.

"Yup! Good times, good times," Rottytops chuckled, shaking her head. "But, yeah, since I'm not an expert on typical romance, I just so happened to...borrow some of Sky's books..."

Shantae turned to the zombie with a disapproving stare and a raised eyebrow, to the latter's confusion. "What? I did! I asked and everything!"

"Oh!" Shantae dropped the look, suddenly apologetic. "Sorry, it's just, the way you said it-"

"Ohhhhhhh, okay, now I hear it," Rottytops nodded with new clarity. "Guess old habits die hard, huh? As I was saying, I just so happened to borrow some of Sky's books for research purposes, which I have right-here!"

Reaching behind her, the zombie pulled a thick stack of books out of thin air, laying them out for the assembled half-genies to see. Zapple let out a low whistle.

"Nice," She remarked, before looking up at Rottytops. "So what'd you find?"

Rottytops shrugged. "Honestly? Not a lot. Or at least not a lot that could be useful. Plenty of ways for couples to realize their love for each other, sure, but not a lot we can actually apply. Like, let's see..."

The zombie flipped open a book at random. "We've got...love at first sight - don't think I need to explain why that won't work..."

"Yeah, amnesia probably isn't the way to go here," Vera commented.

"...realizing it after a vivid dream..." In the midst of flipping open another book, Rottytops looked up at Plink for a moment, to which the half-genie shook her head.

"My powers don't go that far, sorry," Plink apolgized, tapping her fingers together.

"Eh, I figured," Rottytops waved it off, continuing to go through books. "...then there's an elaborate ball..."

"Oh, that sounds like it could be fun!" Shantae grinned, a glimmer in her eyes.

"Do you want to be the one to convince Scuttlebutt to do it?" Rottytops deadpanned, promptly killing her girlfriend's energy right before it could go any further.

"...I retract my statement," She sighed, sulking a little.

"...and then there's mortal peril, which is-" Rottytops looked up. "Look, I'm willing to do a lot, but I think we can all agree that's a bit much, right?"

The half-genies assembled nodded, mumbling in agreement...save for Zapple, thoughtfully looking up. "I don't know, I could make a good supervillain."

"Zapple," Vera elbowed her friend in the ribs with a scolding look.

"What? I'm just saying. I've got lightning, I've got style...I can do a pretty good evil laugh too," Zapple took a moment to clear her throat before looking to the other half-genies. "Want to hear it?"

"...you know what? We'll consider that plan B," Rottytops conceded, giving the armored girl a slight nod before turning her attention back to the rest of her audience. "But, moving on to plan A..."

She slammed the books closed, and began to draw on the chalkboard. "There's one thing I managed to find that can actually work. In all my research, this seems to be the most consistent way to get two people to realize their feelings for each other. A simple, elegant solution..."

With a grin, she added the last touch before presenting her completed drawing - three stick figures. "A third party."

"Ooooooh," Zapple nodded slowly. "So a love triangle?"

"Ah ah ah! Not quite!" Rottytops shook her head, still grinning. "Like...okay, first of all, show of hands real quick, who here actually likes men that way?"

The ensuing silence was loud enough to speak for itself. Rottytops looked to Zapple with a smug smirk, to which the half-genie scratched the back of her head.

"...I mean, I do, but I'm already friends with him and that'd be kinda weird, so...point taken," Zapple nodded.

"Exactly! No, instead, this is a lot simpler," Rottytops began to explain, drawing some lines between the figures. "All we're doing is making it look like there might be potential for romance! At least to that little monkey part of their brain. They might know consciously that it's just friends hanging out, but subconsciously...that's where we get the foot in the door."

"Huh..." Shantae glanced over the chalkboard. "So you're banking on them already having feelings for each other and just not realizing yet?"

"Bit risky, I know, but I'm like...85% sure I'm right on this," Rottytops affirmed. "Anyway! Phase One is straightforward - all our designated third party has to do is just hang out around Bolo, talk with him, hang out and all that jazz-"

"What about Sky?" Plink asked, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"Mmmmm...honestly, I'm more willing to bet on Sky realizing her feelings than Bolo?" Rottytops admitted, slightly pausing in her drawing. "Like, for all Bolo's romantic attempts, I think something in there just locks out his friends as potential dating options. Pretty nice of him, but rather inconvenient. So, yeah, we're really just setting up Sky here.

"Back to the plan..." The zombie continued. "We have our third party hang out with Bolo, and I, being the lead mastermind here, just make sure Sky is able to see them and casually point them out. Seed planted, and then we're good for Phase One!"

"That's it?" Vera blinked. "For all that build-up, I was expecting a bit more pinash."

"Well, we're playing the long game here," Rottytops shrugged. "It'll get a bit more involved in Phase 2. I've got a bunch of ideas there; we can workshop it as we go. Now! Any questions?"

Almost immediately, Harmony raised her hand.

"Yes, Harmony?" Rottytops looked over to her with a pleased smile, like a teacher addressing her student.

"Is this all really...necessary?" Harmony asked, hand tapping against her armguards. "I don't mean to disregard your planning, since you've clearly put a lot of thought into this - but I struggle to see why we couldn't just suggest to them that they could date the other."

"The way I see it, if the simple solution worked, they would've worked this out a long time ago," Rottytops remarked with a shrug. "And, more to the point, we do need to work on Bolo's game before any dating shenanigans can be set up."

"...that's...a fair enough point, I suppose," Harmony nodded slowly, accepting the argument for what it was.

"Now, next question?" Rottytops turned to the other half-genies. "Zapple?"

"So who's going to be the third party?" Zapple asked bluntly. "You never said it or anything."

"Oh, that's easy! Harmony!" Rottytops gestured to the red-haired half-genie with a grin, causing her to look up in bafflement.

"I-Pardon?" Harmony sat up straight. "Why me?"

"Because - and I say this as a taken woman - you're absolutely the hottest one here. Like, objectively." Rottytops stated casually, like she was talking about the weather.

"I am?" Harmony asked, clearly surprised.

"Yeah! Snackcakes, back me up here," Rottytops elbowed her girlfriend, causing her to squawk indignantly.

"Hey-You can't just-!?" Shantae sputtered, before letting out a sigh. "Okay, firstly, I see Harmony in a more sisterly light than anything, and secondly...uh..."

Shantae looked between Harmony and Rottytops for a moment, clearly torn, before slumping over in defeat. "...you do have a point..."

"Yeah, I can agree with that," Plink nodded after a moment.

"That's fairly reasonable," Vera agreed.

"Girls do dig the muscles," Zapple remarked, flexing her own with a grin.

Harmony stared down at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. "I've...never really considered how I might be seen in a romantic light..."

"Well, now you know," Rottytops looked over to the half-genie. "So, you up for it? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Harmony glanced over to the side, head hung low for a moment, before looking over at Shantae.

"...honestly? This is one of Rotty's more harmless schemes I've heard," Shantae shrugged. "I mean, all you have to do is hang out with Bolo, and it's not like Sky's going to get jealous or anything...probably. You did take that into account, right?"

Rottytops waved her hand. "Wellllll...if it was some random girl, I think she would be jealous, but since she knows Harmony, it'll be fine. Probably. Worst case scenario, just tell her you're not into guys that way. That sound good to you?"

Harmony was quiet for a few moments longer, then slowly nodded her head. "If that's all there is to it, then..."

"Great! We'll discuss phase two tomorrow!" With a wide grin, Rottytops opened up a bag of marshmallows. "Now, who wants some magic marshmallows?"

#shantae #not a quote #fic #headcanons #<kind of. if you look closely #to be continued

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electrasev5nwrites · 1 year

Text

Ninja Daily: Vapors 52

"Well, at least that mess is finally over." Kankuro kicked his feet up onto the table, expertly ignoring his sister's scowl. He did yelp and move them to the floor when she flung a kunai in the tiny space between his ankles. "Kami, woman! Either you care about the furniture or you don't! How are my feet worse than that?" He gestured to the new hole in the already pockmarked woodwork.

"Don't be such a baby," Temari growled, tugging out her knife and heading over to the pale wooden cupboards and whipping open the one that creaked no matter how he greased it. "And don't brag, either. It's not over for me," she muttered sourly.

He snorted. "S'hardly my fault." Idly, he kept an eye on his miffed-looking sister while she rather viciously ripped open the plastic packaging on one of those fouly over-sweet baked goods imported from Iron. Kankuro grimaced, but held his tongue. He knew Temari enough to recognize that her rare indulgence in sugar generally meant she was stressed or distracted.

Seeing as how she had just agreed to be the liaison to Konoha, a position that would include making an extended trip there herself in several months' time, he figured it was stress.

Temari was a bit of a homebody—she didn't like leaving Suna for long periods of time. She'd been half-convinced that something terrible had happened to Gaara the whole time they were out on the border. His sister had two comfort zones: perched in the background like an overgrown turkey vulture while her little brothers cowered under her watchful eye; and happily bashing in heads with her fan (it's an antique, she'd primly remind him when he teased her for spending so much time getting blood out of all the little folds).

While his sister was so obviously stressed, she would attempt to calm herself in one of her two comfort zones. Kankuro would prefer that she choose to dote on Gaara and left him in peace, but would settle for not getting his head bashed in with her fan when he inevitably pissed her off too much by speaking.

"Good morning."

Kankuro startled, giving a fierce scowl to his younger brother who had just appeared in a wisp of sand and dry air from the outside.

Unfortunately it was early enough that he had yet to put on the greasy war paint that disguised the fact that he had a bit of a baby face, which significantly lessened the expression's effectiveness. (It was hard being so adorable all the time).

Unphased, Temari clicked on the coffee maker and responded in kind. It was a bit unusual for Gaara to join them for breakfast—he worked odd hours, since he didn't sleep. He was probably the most efficient Kage in history, and still had a frightful amount of time left to invest in personal improvement. As disinterested in conversation and therefore unpracticed in social graces as he was, her youngest brother was incredibly well-read. Of course, it wasn't like he had had much else to do every night for about a decade straight, so it shouldn't be surprising.

She glanced at her otouto as he settled into a chair at the table, dwarfed by the high back even after his growth spurt. It seemed he would never overcome the premature birth that had forced him out into the world so tiny and fragile. Temari was just old enough to remember her mother's fear that he wouldn't survive those first days.

Her heart still ached a little when she saw how tired and small he seemed. Despite knowing that Gaara was in fact monstrously powerful and intelligent, he just sorta looked like he needed a hug all the time. Temari indulged in the impulse, setting her muffin on the counter and practically leaping at him. That's what baby brothers were for, after: spoiling and snuggling.

To his credit, Gaara was used enough to sudden hugs from her that he didn't react. Once satisfied that he was still in one piece if a bit thin and under-muscled for a shinobi of his age, she swooped over to hug Kankuro for good measure. He, on the other hand, protested violently and did his best to push her off. While they scuffled, (eventually ending up on the floor) Gaara shook his head tiredly and opened the ice box to withdraw a yellow-orange piece of fruit. He then proceeded to engage in a short staring concept with it before gingerly biting in.

'He looks baffled,' Temari noted. 'Like he forgot what to do with it.' She gave Kankuro one last noisy kiss on the forehead for good measure and then pulled her arm from around his neck to release him from her wrestling hold. He scrambled to his feet and out the door top-haste, food forgotten. Apparently, he was too big and scary to be snuggled by his big sister, which only encouraged her to tease him.

"Is something wrong, Gaara?"

Temari busied herself with pouring two cups of coffee and handed one to Gaara. She did her best not to flinch when he dumped out half of it into an empty cup and filled his coffee with a downright shocking amount of chocolate milk. It wasn't really even coffee at that point… it was candy in a cup.

"No."

"Hmm." She sat, unconvinced. The Konoha delegation that had been darkening their doorstep for about two weeks had finally left. She'd thought that Gaara was discomfited by their presence—he had certainly been acting strangely enough after he'd had a private conference with the Uzumaki girl. Granted, he was odd at the best of times, but it was definitely abnormal for him to stare at girls.

After the last time she'd had a false alarm that Gaara had discovered hormones, Temari had decided to rule out other possibilities first. Besides, he just didn't seem the type to be so ham-handed about expressing interest. He had watched that girl as if she was about to leap over the table and into his lap if he wasn't wary enough.

'Or like he was trying to figure her out,' Temari allowed. Gaara did have a tendency to stare at the subject of his contemplations when he was thinking. Kankuro found the habit to be highly disturbing (in large part because he had used to do so to them while they were sleeping) but it made sense to her.

She wouldn't deny that she was curious. What had been so private that the girl had needed to speak to the Kazekage without even her teamleader present? Granted, Temari wasn't certain if the two were on excellent terms or if they absolutely despised each other. Their behavior was contradictory at times. It could be that the kunoichi didn't want to trust Sharingan no Kakashi with whatever that conversation had been. It must certainly be sensitive information, but what kind of sensitive information could a teenager possibly have? Was it a message from the Hokage—but that didn't even make sense, what would Uzumaki be trusted to know that her own apprentice wasn't? It just didn't add up.

'He would have told me if I needed to know,' she scolded herself for her own curiosity. But still… what could it hurt to ask? If it was really sensitive he just wouldn't tell her.

"Hey, Gaara."

"Yes?" He looked up at her through black-lined eyes, and she valiantly resisted the urge to recommend a good concealer. The darkened skin would just end up green or something, and that would hardly be better than the jet color. She stirred her drink thoughtfully with a small spoon.

"What did that girl want to talk to you about?" She didn't bother keeping the curiosity out of her voice. It was best to be up-front with Gaara.

"Aiko."

Temari looked up sharply. "What?"

"Her name is Aiko," Gaara corrected. He almost sounded distracted, but she knew better. "I am afraid that I cannot tell you, Temari."

"That's alright," she said distantly, noting the way that his hand had moved towards a single kunai he had definitely not kept strapped to his arm before. What use had Gaara for such a conventional weapon? It had to mean something… especially since he'd only chosen to openly display it after the Konoha delegation had left. 'I think you already gave me a clue anyway.'

"You're not doing him any favors by keeping him confined to the village, you know," Kakashi commented idly when asked if he had any other comments to make at the end of his report. Tsunade should have known better than to ask such an open-ended question around him. He was a bit of a troll at times. Aiko took a moment to adjust to the change in subject, shooting a glance at Sasuke who looked a bit miffed to be discussed as if he wasn't present. "He's gotten rusty in his long distance runs. He needs field work. Besides, isn't it past time that he got a promotion?"

Tsunade colored. "Fine talk, coming from you!"

Aiko suddenly felt a little irritated at the commentary as well. She was pretty certain that comment was referring to her.

"Besides," the Hokage continued, "Do you have any idea how valuable he'd be when sold for parts? No, thank you, I've finally gotten used to having him around."

Coming from her, that was a touching declaration of fondness. Sasuke gained just a little bit of pink on his cheeks. Aiko, on the other hand, was busy mulling over the coldness of describing what could happen to him if captured as being 'sold for parts'. It wasn't inaccurate, but... Jeeze.

"I'm not saying that we should truss him up and toss him over the border to Lightning to see what happens," Kakashi said slowly. "Nor that what he has accomplished is less than impressive. But unless he truly intends to become a non-combatant, he needs experience he isn't going to get by single-handedly reinventing the field of healthcare for pre-adolescent ninja."

(it was a rather ambitious project, but a sorely necessary one when conventional wisdom was to 'push them as far as you want, they're just short adults'…)

Tsunade gave a sore look to her apprentice, clearly recognizing just as much as they did that a lack of combat experience would kill him just as well as lack of abilities. "Fine then. Consider yourself my babysitter."

Suddenly, Sasuke seemed to have recovered from his bout of reluctant fondness for his shishou and gave her a nasty, snarly look. She airily pretended not to see.

"I'll give you a few missions to get him some light practice under manageable conditions. Nothing too strenuous, but hopefully just enough that I can justify a Chuunin promotion. It's not like he doesn't have the skill set," she pointed out with a frown. Then she leveled Kakashi and Aiko with a vicious glare. "If he comes back with so much as a broken nail, though, it's on your heads. In fact…" Tsunade shuffled through her desk for the constantly updated roster of shinobi in-village and assigned to missions. "I'd really feel comfortable with at least one more ANBU level back up… he's a valuable target, what with his pretty swirly eyes and being privy to the ear of the most important woman in Fire Country and all."

Kakashi's slightly disbelieving stare implied that he thought she was the worst kind of hypocrite for daring to insinuate that he was overprotective. Aiko just stifled snickers. She didn't bother to hide the amusement in her eyes, however, which earned her a heartfelt glower from Sasuke.

Tsunade seemed completely oblivious to the undertones, concentrating as she was. "Yamato is still out of the village," she mumbled to herself with a scowl, apparently looking for a replacement. "If you weren't so damn difficult to work with…"

Aiko blinked and glanced uncertainly at her suddenly innocent-looking mentor. Kakashi, difficult to work with? That was a weird thing to say. Who wouldn't want to work with him?

"Aha!" She triumphantly checked a name off, inadvertently tearing the paper. "I found one that never got around to filing a complaint about you. You remember that nice boy named Sai, right?"

Sasuke choked.

Shizune lost it, howling with laughter. Aiko jumped like a kicked animal and whipped around to stare. 'Damn, that woman is sneaky. I had no idea she was back there.'

"Excellent idea, Hokage-sama," Sasuke's senpai somehow managed to wheeze, heroically managing to dismiss the affronted look he was giving her.

"Maa, maa." Kakashi slouched, indicating he was bored with the conversation. "That's settled, then. Before we get too far off topic, I think my cute little apprentice has something to tell you."

Aiko stiffened guiltily. She'd been starting to wonder if she had been wrong when she thought that Kakashi would have listened in on her conversation with Gaara. She should have known better- of course he had. He was incorrigibly nosy about things like his subordinates asking for private audiences with foreign Kage. He was unreasonable like that.

"Ah, yes." She flexed her toes inside her boots, glancing a little uncertainly at her mentor. His countenance was blank—no hint whatsoever as to his thoughts.

'That's helpful,' she sighed.

Tsunade groaned. "I'm going to regret letting you out of my sight, aren't I," she half-joked tiredly. "Alright, get out, you two." Sasuke shot her an inscrutable look, but followed Shizune out of the office and pulled the door shut behind him. There was long moment where Kakashi seemed ready to speak, but a thought occurred to Tsunade. She lifted her head and hollered, "And don't listen in this time!"

Kakashi held his hand up to muffle a snicker at the same time that there was the slightly distorted sound of Shizune grumbling quietly on the other side of the door, before a flicker of blue around the frame indicated that one of them had dutifully powered up the stifling seals. The Hokage rolled her eyes fondly.

"Nosy little brats," she explained proudly. "They thought I didn't know about it."

'Does... does that mean she actually wants them to practice spying on her?'

With that singularly disturbing concept in mind, Aiko fidgeted with the one Hiraishin kunai on her person and expertly drowned out the insistent singing of the one in Kakashi's pocket (as well as the humming of Yamato's that indicated Tsunade had been lying about him being out of the village. She'd thought it best not to bring that up.) At least she wasn't too bothered by Gaara's anymore. It was so far off that she could barely feel it whine for her attention.

"Right." Kakashi nudged her pointedly.

She sighed. "I think what he wants me to tell you is that I gave Gaara a Hiraishin kunai."

Tsunade looked mildly nauseous. "He can use Hiraishin?" She leaned over her desk, inadvertently exposing a few extra inches of cleavage.

'What? Who said anything about that?'

"No." Aiko furrowed her brow in faint confusion. Kakashi's arm twitched as if he longed to slap a hand to his forehead. "It's so that I'll know if something happens to him. He's in the same danger Naruto is, right? But he doesn't have Jiraiya of the Sannin following him around like a particularly grungy guard dog."

Clearly relieved, Tsunade sank back into her seat. "He is a big boy, you know," she pointed out with a tone of amusement. "I bet he dresses himself and everything. It's not your responsibility to protect the Kazekage."

"No, but it's my responsibility to protect Naruto," Aiko argued. "Gaara is his friend, and he's in danger. What do you think the first thing he'll say when I give him a kunai for his own protection from Akatsuki?"

At that point, Kakashi really did slap a palm to his forehead, looking pained.

It appeared that everyone in the office had come to the conclusion she'd painted. Rather than irritated, Tsunade looked mildly touched. "You're probably right," she allowed. "And I did technically declassify that when I told you to tell Kakashi. It's your technique, and you're allowed to be an idiot on your own time. But I have a strange feeling that you'll not often find the Kazekage outside of Suna. Do you really think you can go that far?"

"Yes," she lied clearly, keeping her own trepidation out of her voice and expressions, both bodily and facial.

It was a lie she'd been prepared to make. There was no way to be certain it was as safe as Minato had indicated in his notes without trying it herself, but it was worth the risk. She didn't see another option that would allow her to keep an eye on him. Konoha and Suna weren't that far apart in the grand scale of things, after all.

Aiko didn't know whether to feel ashamed or satisfied that her mentor and the Hokage didn't question the claim. Since when could she fool Kakashi? Of course, the better question was probably, 'since when did she want to'. It was undeniable that he was much more skilled and experienced than she was, but Aiko was formidable in her own right. Sometimes, she didn't want to have to justify everything to him. She was an adult and had been for four-and-a-half years by shinobi standards and almost a year by civilian standards. Aiko was old enough to make a few judgments about risks that only affected her without outside help by now, thank you very much.

"And you trust that he won't take advantage of this?" Tsunade pressed, sounding genuinely curious.

Aiko nodded firmly. "Yes. Naruto trusts in his character, and I have faith in his discretion. They don't make idiots into Kage, after all. That leaves the only possible worry is his being overpowered and losing control of the seal, but if I can't trust the Kazekage to be strong enough to keep something safe, I don't know who could protect it".

Other than Kakashi. He could do anything. (Anything but comb his damn hair, apparently).

Tsunade gave a little shrug, tilting her head casually so that one of her ponytails slipped over her shoulder out of sight. "If you get yourself into an ambush, just remember that it was your own overconfidence to blame". (Kakashi looked disgruntled at her nonchalance.) "Can I assume that you're done handing those things out like candy?"

"Naruto's going to get one," she countered instantly.

The Hokage rolled her eyes. "Other than him."

Aiko thought for a moment. "Maybe Sasuke?" she offered. "But I can't see myself giving one to anyone else outside my team other than that, no."

"Very well." Tsunade waved at them as if telling them to scatter. "I hope you know that if necessary, you're going to be my official short-notice errand girl to Suna."

"That's fine," Aiko agreed. She didn't have much of a choice.

When the two ruffians had left her office, Tsunade began silently gathering up her belongings to attempt to make a covert escape out the window. She'd been working late so many nights in a row that she hardly remembered the sensation of sun on her skin. (Granted, as Shizune complained, she might feel more sunshine if she didn't have a small rainforest crowded in front of the window, but what else was she going to do with all the damn plants?)

She winced and held her breath for a moment when the window squealed… and then remembered that the room was silenced. She was home free.

'I hope Hatake knows what he's doing,' she thought solemnly, letting her legs dangle over the drop and adjusting the tan sling bag over her shoulder before stealthily slipping off to the ground. When he'd been called in and informed that Jiraiya had modified and approved Aiko's anti-Root seal, he'd been surprisingly opposed to the idea of ambushing the boy named Sai and torturing him for information. (And getting the seal to work had been an ordeal in itself that included a shockingly irritated letter from Jiraiya about opening a storage seal to find a tongue floating in preservatives. She was still a bit confused about that. She had safely labeled the tongue severed from the captured Root agent as private correspondence and warned him to be alone when opening it. What on earth had he been expecting? Cheesecake?)

To be honest, she did feel a little guilty about the plan of tricking Sai into her office and capturing him to use against his master. The Root members were still shinobi under her protection even if they were sworn to Danzo. Konoha had to accept a lot of blame for what had been done to those soldiers as children… Danzo didn't operate in a vacuum after all. Sai was a victim of Konoha's ineptitude just as much as he was a traitor's tool.

Kakashi had argued that Sai was young enough that he was vulnerable to being subverted, especially since he displayed particular interest in learning how to interact with his age group. She rather doubted that Hatake was right about how plausible that was, but she was willing to pass the boy off into his care for a while and let his team try.

Tsunade wasn't an idiot. She knew that on some level, his insistence stemmed from the fact that Kakashi hated endangering anyone who had served under him. If he had to he would obey orders, but the man would much rather use anything but force. It was hard to hold that against him, however. He was a good leader, one who was genuinely interested in the welfare of everyone under his protection. If push came to shove he would do what must be done, but he also wasn't in the habit of fooling himself. Hatake must have seen something in the boy that she had missed (not surprising, since he had spent an extended mission with the child and she only saw him in passing).

On the bright side, she trusted the small team who would be with Sai on a personal level beyond her usual relationship with her soldiers. Sasuke had her ear and she knew him inside and out (could break him down and build him up if she wanted to). Tsunade had the benefits of knowing Kakashi for years and was intimately with his failings and strengths.

And she'd just decided what it was that had unsettled her so much about Aiko. The girl reminded her of herself. The teen was a bit spoiled by a very caring mentor, talented, and almost unhealthily attached to her younger brother.

It was a strangely fitting parallel, since Naruto carried Nawaki's dream. Maybe this generation wouldn't falter as hers had under the painful weight of a long war.

Unlike Tsunade whose desire to protect Nawaki had extended to other loved ones and manifested as a desire to heal in general, Aiko just hadn't figured out a personal drive beyond Naruto. It was plain to see that she didn't really love her work, although she dutifully carried it out to please her mentor and fulfill the requirements. Doubtlessly Aiko would excel when she eventually figured out what she wanted.

'Maybe I should give her a chance to work apart from Hatake,' Tsunade mused, unaware of the irony that her mind was still on work even when she had literally run away from it. 'Perhaps it'll force her to reconsider her motivations for serving Konoha and find a passion, as it were.'

Keiko glanced out the window and spotted her honored Hokage gleefully making a break for it across the lawn. Her head hit the surface of her desk, and her carefully pinned hair slumped heavily from the change in gravity.

'This is the most stressful job I've ever had.'

She opened her mouth and worked her jaw silently for a moment, struggling for words. It felt like there should be some for this odd situation. Eventually, she settled for, "You're been treating my room like a library?"

Ino and Karin exchanged guilty glances.

"I didn't think you'd mind," her cousin eventually offered. "You leant Ino some before, so when she came by I didn't think much of it."

"What she said." Ino gave a toothy grin. It was very fake. The girl was thinking furiously, examining different rhetorical strategies.

'They make me so tired sometimes'.

She stalled answering for a second. When she slowly inhaled through her nose and walked over to her bed, Aiko noted the lingering of multiple sources of perfume that indicated this had not been the first time Ino had come by while she was gone.

It wasn't exactly that she minded someone else reading her books. She wasn't embarrassed by any of them. But letting someone else into her room had been a major violation of her privacy, and Aiko was definitely not pleased with Karin. Actually, she was a little tired of having the other girl as a roommate. From a distance, Karin was enjoyable to spend time with, but living with her was another thing. It wasn't like Aiko had ever decided to move in with Karin—she'd been pushed into it by the third Hokage (which was more than a bit annoying) so she had a hard time even telling herself that dealing with minor differences was just part of agreeing to live together.

"Just… don't do this anymore. If I'm out of town, then you can wait."

Karin gave a shame-faced nod and slipped out of the room at high speed. Ino (either bravely or stupidly) didn't quail under her glare. "Didn't you say that you liked my idea of publishing some of these?" she demanded, poking bossily into Aiko's personal space.

'I'm almost impressed that she's trying to turn this around and make it my fault,' Aiko noted dazedly. It was just unreal. Ino was unreal.

"Yes, so? That doesn't give you license to come in here while I'm gone and go through my things," she countered aggressively.

Thin, glossed lips quirked into a victorious smile, but Aiko had no idea why. "What if I took care of that for you," Ino proposed. "Either under your name or a penname. I can send them off to a publisher's. I told you that my family knows a man who can get it done easily. You'll make tons of money, and then I'll get to read whatever I want. We both win."

Aiko rolled her eyes. "I don't want to send off my only copies to some man I don't even know," she pointed out snarkily. "I mean, if you want to copy them by hand before you send them, then sure. Fine!"

She was expecting Ino to falter at that. It would be a large commitment. The idea of copying any of her books word for work was severely unappealing.

"That's acceptable."

Something stuttered in her brain at the easy way Ino tossed her hair and fixed her with a smug look.

"You'll be thanking me when you're making tons of money," she sighed airily, tilting her hip and picking up a book she'd already read. "I'll expect you to dedicate one to me. Maybe even write me into a story. I deserve to be written about, after all." Her ponytail was the last thing Aiko saw swish out the door. Her brain hadn't quite caught up yet.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Watch your fucking mouth," Hinata said quietly as she passed the doorway with an ironic smile, half buried under the basket of purple laundry she was hauling to her room.

'The world has gone mad,' Aiko bemoaned sadly, flopping down on her bed. Maybe a nap would improve things.

Omake:

He was silent and sleek as he crossed the lawn and carefully picked the lock on the front door. His target hadn't set up real traps for the night, which probably meant that she was home. He'd have to be very careful.

The door slid open without a whisper, and the intruder carefully crept into the genkan. He was stealth personified, easy grace and carefully honed skill.

Then he blinked. 'What the hell happened to my shoes?'

The borrowed house slippers (now embarrassingly filthy after his cross- town escape) dangled limply from his hands. He'd been planning on a covert switch, but this complicated things.

Sasuke was left blinking guiltily when the light switched on to reveal Aiko leaning casually against the wall with a smug smile and his sandals in her hands. "I assume," she drawled with insufferable self-satisfaction, "that you have come to apologize for leaving a dirty mailbox in my kitchen. As luck would have it, I haven't finished repairing it yet. Maybe you'd like to help me while we talk."

'She's holding my shoes hostage,' he instantly realized. That was pretty low. Even for a ninja.

But... He glanced down at his bare toes, cold from crossing Aiko's damp lawn. He only owned the one pair of fitting shinobi sandals, and he couldn't even enter the warehouse to replace them without shoes to wear in.

Sasuke was screwed, and he knew it.

"I'd love to help," he dryly replied.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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keepfight1n · 1 year

Text

@infectd asked: "Is this everything you wanted?" (based in their proper end of part two on the farm together)

ㅤlife was so quiet here. it might have been easy on mornings like these to forget the tragedies that had carried them here. the air was still a bit cold with remnants of the night, though the sun coasting over the hill was quick to warm whatever it touched. the breeze rustling the tall grass just beyond the house was the only sound save for his own breath. this was calm. this was peace.

ㅤhe should have known that he wasn't going to be alone for long. not that he minded. no, he preferred it most days. nevertheless, her voice startles him when it rings clearly through the early morning air. now that the winter had been banished by earlier sunrises and later sunsets, it was rare that he started his morning anywhere other than the porch. how long had it been since he'd seen sprawling fields without the accompanying dread of what lay beyond them? how many years had he spent searching for ways out of the walls that confined him, only now to see undisturbed horizon?

ㅤso no, he wasn't disappointed to have been interrupted. peace like this deserved to be shared ── especially with her. " hmm, " he hums as he finds the words. all he'd wanted for so long was safety, consistency. he'd found that with tess, albeit behind boston's walls. then he'd met ellie. desires long put to rest had started to awaken. he wanted to protect her, to give her a life of safety, to show her things she'd been robbed of merely by chance. two decades of suppressing the will to care for someone else and some smart - ass teenager had picked it out of him as if he hadn't spent years cementing it into place. then he'd wanted to save her. he'd wanted to give them a life only his brother could promise. then he'd wanted to spare her. [ . . . ] as he was sure she relived that day in nightmares, he, too, could hear her pleas. JOEL, GET UP! he'd wanted to be better for her. to right the wrongs he'd so desperately tried to disguise as sacrifices.

ㅤat the heart of it all, he supposed he wanted what he had been robbed of. a family. a home. a place outside of chaos without need for constant caution. and somehow, through all of it, she'd decided to choose those things, too. it's subtle, and in the harsh light of the morning it was probably indiscernible, but a smile plays at the corner of his lips. the lines on his face grow deeper with the gesture, eyes crinkling at the corners. " reckon it is . . . " he offers with a nod, turning to face her. " we've got our work cut out for us, but ── can't deny that view. " lips curl into a smirk, remembering a child so different from the young woman before him seeing the world for the first time. how had her desires changed, that little girl with a hope he couldn't understand? could this be what she wanted? truly, after everything? " think it'll be . . . enough? " enough to heal old wounds to make room for new desires, new dreams, new life.

#not me writing an entire novella for this reply omg....#however !!!!#i'm Emo about this aaaand ily #infectd #( verse tbt. )#* answered.

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liltaz-asatreat · 2 years

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oooh working on the moon is fine but the alien jokes are getting old and lucreita :0 ??? thank you!!

...so this got slightly out of hand lol I wanted to do a time lapse of different scenes, and it turned out way way way longer than I thought it would alsdkjfdsglk

This is literally the longest single piece I've ever written, and I really hope you like it :D

Edit: Forgot to put this here, but this prompt came from this prompt list here!

Edit 2: You can also read this on ao3 here -> No Aliens on the Moon

“We could probably find a place hidden somewhere in the Sword Mountains or find a clearing in the forest.”

“There's also the desert if you don't mind the heat. No one goes that far out of Goldcliff for obvious reasons.”

“Hmmm,” Lucretia hums noncommittally. No that wouldn't do, she thinks as she pores over a map of Faerûn with Maureen and Lucas Miller. They're all standing around a table in the Millers' laboratory, looking for possible locations for Lucretia's future headquarters for what will become known as the Bureau of Balance. All the places the Millers have suggested so far could be reasonable, but she's still afraid someone unwanted will stumble upon it. Or, more concerningly, Barry would be able to find it. She needs it to be somewhere that's guaranteed to be unreachable with the exception for the people she wants there. It can't be anywhere on land. The best place and the one she's most comfortable with is up in the sky, but Barry obviously knows the Starblaster, and the ship isn't big enough to house an entire organization.

And the thought of having it be overrun with people who aren't her family makes her sick to her stomach. That's her home. That's her family's home with all of their century's worth of belongings still in it. There's too many memories. It's too sanctified a place that was theirs and theirs alone. The only thing they had left.

Lucretia shakes her head to stop that line of thinking. She needs to focus. Having it up in the sky isn't a bad idea, and the Millers have the technology. She just needs to figure out how to–

“Lucretia? Are you okay?”

Lucretia looks up to see Maureen looking at her with concern. She'd been silent for too long. Too caught up in her thoughts. She tries to give her a small smile as she says, “Yeah, I was just thinking. Could we build it in the sky?”

Maureen and Lucas look at each other. “I suppose we could, yes,” Maureen says. “Why do you want it there?”

“If it's on the ground, even in a remote location, there's still the possibility of someone finding it accidentally. If it's in the sky though, then there's no way for anyone to get there without doing so on purpose.”

“That's true, but aren't people going to recognize that there's a big floating base in the middle of the sky?” Lucas asks.

“We'd need to disguise it as something else.” Maureen walks over to a cabinet and pulls out parchment and a pen. “Something that people wouldn't think twice about it being there.”

“Like a cloud?” Lucas suggests.

“How about a moon?” Lucretia says.

Maureen laughs, and it's full of warmth and life, and it makes Lucretia's heart skip a beat. “You want to live on the moon? Like an alien?”

Lucretia smiles and rolls her eyes. “I already am technically one on this planet, so sure. Why not?”

“Everyone is going to notice if there's an extra moon in the sky,” Lucas points out.

Lucretia thinks for a moment. “Not if I erase that fact with the Voidfish.”

Maureen shakes her head with a smile. “That's true. Be careful how much you erase though. You can't let that kind of power go to your head, or it could do irreparable damage.”

Lucretia's heart plummets again and twinges painfully, but she forces herself to laugh through it anyway. “I won't. I'm only using it as much as I need to to destroy these Relics once and for all.”

“So this is the base. It's almost finished being built; we're just working on a few more dormitories, and, of course, the hangar.” Lucretia nods her head at a passing group of people as she leads her newest recruit, Avi, through the courtyard of the moon base. “I can take you to the hangar, so you can get a look at the cannons. Maureen and Lucas should be there already, and they can give you a tutorial on how it works.”

“Great! I can't wait to take a look at it! I've never been a part of operating such a technological marvel.” Avi says excitedly.

Lucretia smiles. “Do you have any more questions for me about your job duties or about the Bureau?”

Avi furrows an eyebrow. “Yeah, I have a few. If the Relics are as powerful as you say they are, how are you planning on destroying them? Do you have another engineer working on a machine that will be capable of destroying them?”

“Yes, it's actually almost finished,” Lucretia says smoothly. “It took a bit to figure out the logistics of how such a thing would work, but we've figured out the arcane technology needed to at least destroy other powerful magic items, so it should work on the Relics. I can give you a demonstration of how it works later with something not so important.”

“That would be great!” Avi says brightly. “My next question is, how did you come up with the idea to use cannons to get people off the base?”

“Well, we needed to have some way of getting people planet side,” Lucretia says with a chuckle.

Avi laughs. “Yeah, but why not use hovercrafts or something? If you have the technology to make the base float, then flying vehicles can't be too much of a leap to make.”

“Cannonballs are a much faster and more efficient way to travel. People won't get stuck going through a forest for days on end or something if we can just send them directly to their destination. Also, they're less noticeable and harder to track than traveling in a vehicle on the ground.” Lucretia explains.

They make it to the entrance of the hangar, and they stop to watch the process of people working on building the cannonballs and the cannon itself. Lucretia spots Lucas working under the table with the controls for the cannon and Maureen standing nearby, looking at a piece of parchment in her hands. She has her hair tied up in a messy bun, and she's somewhat covered in grease. She looks up at her for a second and smiles, and fuck she looks so beautiful. Lucretia's in too deep. Maureen waves at her, and Lucretia feels her cheeks heat up as she smiles and waves back.

“Director, did you hear me?”

Lucretia tears her eyes away from her and looks back at Avi who has an amused smile on his face. Her cheeks are burning even more now, and there's no way she can pretend that she heard what he said. “Um, sorry, no. What– What did you say?”

Avi laughs and shakes his head. “I asked why you decided to disguise this place as a moon. It could have been anything, and you chose to make the world forget it only had one moon? Do you just really like having an alien aesthetic or something?”

Lucretia sighs. “Really funny, but no, it has nothing to do with an alien aesthetic. It would have been really weird if it was a clear day and there was only one cloud in the sky or if it was grey and there's a singular white puffy cloud standing out against the dark ones.”

Avi laughs again. “But a second moon is less weird?” He asks incredulously.

Lucretia rolls her eyes with a small smile. “It's easier to make people think there are two moons than come up with a bunch of reasons why there's an unchanging white cloud no matter the weather.”

“I suppose you're right,” Avi concedes.

Lucretia nods. “Anyway, Maureen and Lucas are over there if you want to help them and learn more about the cannon,” she says, pointing them out to him.

“Alright. I'll see you around, Director,” Avi says with a smile, and he waves at her as he walks to join the Millers by the cannon's control table.

Lucretia watches as Johann looks up at Fisher in wonder. He seems entranced with the Voidfish already which is good. If Lucretia can't keep up with feeding it and spending time with it while running the organization at the same time, it at least deserves to have the company of the best bard in Faerûn. She hopes Johann will agree to watch over it, and she hopes Fisher will enjoy his company too.

Johann puts his hand up on the glass, but Fisher doesn't put up a tentacle to match. It hasn't done that with anyone since Magnus...

Lucretia sighs and shakes her head to rid of herself of that line of thinking. Fisher does, at least, hum a little at him, and Johann's face lights up.

“It's beautiful.” Johann lets his hand fall as he stares at it for a second longer before turning to look at her. “And it's incredible. Is it really responsible for stopping the war and making everyone forget?”

Lucretia nods. “Unfortunately, I can't spend enough time with it and feeding it now with everything I have to do, so I'm really hoping you're onboard with helping me in that regard.”

Johann's face falls again. “But if I feed it my compositions, no one else is going to hear them. I'll... No one's going to know who I am.”

Lucretia's heart breaks a little at how small his voice gets at the end of that sentence. “It's your decision. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do, but if you do want to help save this world, the job is yours. And I'll be sure to pay you very handsomely for your contribution. And this will only be until we destroy all of the Relics. Once they're all gone, you will be relieved from duty, and you can share the rest of your music with the world.”

Johann looks back up at Fisher for a long time. Fisher hums a little tune at him, and only Lucretia knows that it's not as energetic as it could be. Johann smiles a little again and takes a deep breath. “There's only seven, right? It shouldn't take that long, so I think I can hang around until they're gone from this world.”

Lucretia smiles a little. Gods she hopes it won't take that long. It's already taken way longer than it should. “I'm glad to have you onboard with this organization. Your job duties will just include taking care of the Voidfish, and I'll pay you 500 gold pieces a month. Do you have any questions for me about this job or this organization?”

Johann stares at her blankly and in disbelief for a few seconds as he mouths the words 500 gold pieces a month? Then he seems to register that she asked him a question, and he shakes his head a little. “Y-yeah, just one.” He scrunches his face up for a second and cocks his head to the side. “Why the moon? Do you like being considered an alien or something?”

Every fucking time. Lucretia sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “No, it's just a great way to make sure no one stumbles upon the base on accident or for the Red Robes, if they're still out there somewhere, to track us down.”

Johann smirks a little. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you have a possibly alien jellyfish that you have to keep secret?”

Okay, that's kind of funny. Lucretia shakes her head. “That's just a coincidence,” she deadpans, and Johann laughs.

“Thank you again for helping Killian and Boyland take care of Sally Oswald. That was very kind of you.”

“Pssh, yeah, it was no problem. I'm not one to stand around when people need help, and it looked like they could use it.” Carey Fangbattle twirls one of her daggers effortlessly between her fingers for a few seconds before catching it and using it to clean under her claws.

Lucretia's grip on her staff tightens slightly as she forces a smile on her face. “Well, now that you know what we're doing here, we would be happy to have you on board as a Regulator. I've been looking for someone to fill in as a third for Killian and Boyland's team for a little while now, and you've proven to be able to work well with them.”

“Hell yeah! That would be great!” Carey says emphatically. “I love what you're doing here, and– Well, wait. I should ask first, is this a paid thing?”

Lucretia chuckles a little. “Yes, you will be paid handsomely every time you come back from a mission. In fact, I can give you your payment for this mission right now.” She claps her hands and calls out, “Davenport!”

Davenport comes walking out of her office, holding a tray with a small bag of gold pieces and a token for the Fantasy Gashapon, and he walks over to Carey before handing it out to her. “Davenport!”

“Sweet, thanks!” Davenport nods as Carey takes the bag and token, and she looks the token over carefully as Davenport walks back into Lucretia's office. No doubt to get Carey's bracer ready.

“There's 600 gold pieces in there, and that's a token to the Fantasy Gashapon in our artificer's office. See, Bureau members aren't allowed to give each other magic items, but we know having some items is necessary for us to do our jobs, so the Gashapon is a clever work around for that. Leon will explain it more when you go see him. You can also spend your money at the independent retailer we have up here on the moon called Fantasy Costco. It should be easy to find because it's the only building here that isn't a dome.” Lucretia grimaces slightly as Carey laughs.

“Couldn't convince the store manager to conform to the aesthetic here, huh?”

“No, we couldn't,” Lucretia says bemusedly. “Garfield is... very persuasive and very stubborn on some things. Anyway, like I said before, we're happy to have you on as a Regulator. Your job duties will include checking up on Bureau members planet side that haven't checked in with us in a while to make sure they haven't gone AWOL, tracking down Bureau members who have gone AWOL and are going after the Relics for their own personal gain, and stopping them from collecting and using a Grand Relic by any means necessary. I'm not going to lie, this is a really hard job to handle because you may end up going after people you know and have befriended in your time here.”

Carey looks up at her with a little concern. “Oh yeah. I guess I didn't consider the fact that Sally worked for you too, huh.”

Lucretia gives her a tight smile. “She did. She was one of our Seekers. Usually a really good one too, but she must have gotten some inaccurate information about the whereabouts of a Relic called the Oculus, and she went after it in the hopes of collecting it herself. At least, that's what she told Killian and Boyland when they first confronted her before you turned up.”

“I'm... I'm sorry for your loss.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between the two of the for a few moments before Lucretia shakes her head. “What had to be done was done, and we're lucky she was found before she could find it and use it. It would have ended very badly for her and a lot of other people if we hadn't caught her in time. Now, from Killian and Boyland's reports of your performance and the fact that Sally is now gone, I think we can skip the formalities of the Trial of Initiation before you get your bracer.” She claps her hands again and calls out, “Davenport!”

It takes a couple of seconds, but Davenport eventually walks back out into the room carrying another tray with a silver bracer on it. He offers it to Carey, and she takes it. “You should put it on your non-dominant arm, but really, it's up to you. It's just easier, people find, to put it on their non-dominant arm, but whichever you choose, your decision must be final because the bracer never comes off.” Lucretia says.

Carey looks at it for a moment longer before she puts it on her left arm. It closes around her arm, and the seam vanishes. “What's the point of having it not be able to come off again?”

“It's to help track Bureau members in case they get into trouble and need help or in case they go missing and need to be Regulated. It also serves as a way to identify each other out in the field, summon the transport when you're planet side, and opens some of the doors up here moon side that lead to more restricted areas.” Lucretia explains. “Do you have anymore questions for me about your job or the organization?”

Carey nods. “Yeah, actually. Am I going to still be able to keep in contact with my family? I have a brother I'm pretty close to, and I don't want to suddenly go missing on him.”

Lucretia smiles softly. “Of course, you're still going to be able to see your brother. The only time you won't be able to keep in contact with your family and friends outside of the Bureau would be if you die on the job. Not just because you would be dead, but in order to keep people from asking awkward questions about the whereabouts of dead Bureau members, we erase knowledge of their existence with the Voidfish.” Carey looks up at her in shock, and she quickly adds, “But that's only if you die on the job. If you die under other circumstances that can be explained, we won't erase you, and of course, for as long as you're alive, the people you know and love will be able to still know you and keep in contact with you. But, while it's an ugly part of the job, it's necessary to erase all evidence of the fact that we exist from the world, which includes death by what would be mysterious circumstances from an outsider's perspective.”

Carey slowly closes her mouth as she nods a little. “I– That makes sense, I guess. Is... is there any way to give that information back to them after the Relics are found?”

Lucretia's heart twists tight. Fisher hasn't broadcasted anything in decades, and even if it wanted to, would it be a good idea for the world to know about the Relics again even after they're all destroyed?

Lucretia shakes her head and sighs. “I'm afraid not. Once you're gone... there's no coming back from that except for people who have drank the Voidfish's ichor. Do you have any other questions for me?”

Carey is silent for a moment. “Yeah, I do have one other question. Why the moon? Is it so that the Bureau can have a mascot like in school? Are we known as the Aliens to everyone who's drank from the Voidfish?”

Carey laughs a little at that as Lucretia groans. “No, we're not called the Aliens. It was just a convenient way to make sure no one found us on accident.”

“Ah, but that's something an alien would say!” She cackles some more as Lucretia puts her face in her hand. Not one person is going to let the moon thing slide are they? Not one single person.

“That was a great training session, boys. Well done.” Lucretia says as Magnus, Merle, and Taako walk out of the arena portion of the Icosagon. They've only been here for two weeks, but she still has to fight off tears of happiness every time she sees them. It's been so long. And they're here now. They still don't remember her, but they're here, and she didn't realize how hard of a time she was going to have at containing her pure joy around them when she first sought them out.

“Thanks, Director,” Magnus says as he picks up a towel he left on the bench and wipes some sweat off of his face and neck.

“Yeah, it was great. I especially liked the part when Merle was standing still right next to the stationary dummy, and he still missed with his warhammer.” Taako snipes with an amused glare at the aforementioned dwarf.

Merle glares up at him and crosses his arms. “It's been a while since I've pulled out ol' Smoosher, okay? And that's better than having to rely on a spell that automatically hits no matter how you cast it, Pointy Hat.”

“Yeah, but I'm like, good at it. And I'm good at other spells too.”

“Well, that's what training is for, getting better at the things you are or are not already good at, and I think you have all improved a lot this session,” Lucretia quickly cuts in before it devolves into a full fledged argument. “I did want to ask you boys a question before you leave though.”

Magnus picks up his water bottle and bag as he turns to face her. “What's up?”

“How have you boys been adjusting to living up here? I know I put a lot on you all when I first hired you, and I just wanted to check in and see how things are going.” Lucretia says.

“It's mostly been boring,” Taako says as he puts Lup's– his umbrastaff in his bag. “You really don't have a lot going on up here do you?”

Lucretia grimaces. “No, not really if you're talking in terms of places to go. I have been working on planning a corporate retreat some time in the next few months, so there's that to look forward to.”

Taako rolls his eyes. “Is it mandatory?”

Lucretia stifles a laugh. “Yes, I'm afraid it is.”

“I have a question,” Merle cuts in. “Is there any possible way for us to move dorms or something? Like, you've gotta have some other living spaces available, right?”

Yes, but she can't show favoritism, and there's no reason she can make up currently as to why she'd give them the apartment below the base. She sighs internally and says, “Unfortunately, no. Is there something wrong with the dormitory you have now?”

“No, everything's fine,” Magnus says as he tries to subtly kick Merle who glares up at him in response. “You don't need to worry about it.”

Lucretia narrows her eyes slightly. “Well, that's a little suspi–”

“It's Robbie,” Taako says, rolling his eyes again. “He's creepy and annoying and–”

“And he steals all of my Kenny Chesney CDs and leaves empty Pringles containers all over the floor–” Merle jumps in.

“Guys, come on!” Magnus interrupts. “That all may be true, but you gotta agree he makes some really good potions, and I don't want to lose out on getting free potions.”

“He does make really good potions,” Merle grumbles in agreement.

“You could live without getting free potions,” Taako says stubbornly. “I can't live with the stench of him mixing them up at all hours of the day and night.”

Lucretia sighs. “This sounds like something you're going to have to work out with him because unfortunately, I can't move you boys to a different dormitory.”

“That's fine, I do have something else I wanted to ask you,” Magnus says, bouncing up and down a little on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“Is it about getting a dog?” Lucretia deadpans.

Magnus stops bouncing. “Yeah.”

Lucretia fights off a sad smile as she remembers every time he and Davenport had had this exact argument about bringing a dog up on the Starblaster. “I'm sorry, Magnus, but there are no dogs allowed on the moon. Can't stress that enough.”

Magnus tries to give her puppy dog eyes. “But I want one so bad! I'd make sure he doesn't run off the side of the moon, I promise!”

Lucretia takes a deep breath to respond, but Merle cuts her off. “Speaking of the moon, why did you make the base a moon?”

“Because she's an alien, obviously,” Taako laughs, and Lucretia goes rigid. There's no way he'd know that still.

“Oh, I thought it was because the Voidfish is an alien and would obviously belong on the moon,” Magnus says.

“Why not both!” Taako exclaims.

“Oh, does that make us aliens?” Merle asks enthusiastically.

“Yeah, does it, Director?” Magnus asks.

They don't actually remember. They can't have remembered. They're just goofing around. Lucretia forces a small smile and says, “No, I'm afraid not. No one up here is an alien. Disguising the base as a moon was just a simple way of having an excuse of having something up in the sky.”

“But that would probably make us aliens, wouldn't you say?” Magnus asks.

“Hello, people of Abeir-Toril! We come in peace!” Taako says in a dramatic voice.

“Take us to your leader!” Merle adds dramatically.

Lucretia puts her face in her hands as they laugh and high five each other. She doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry. The fucking irony. She should've preemptively banned alien jokes because this is getting ridiculous. Then again, banning something is only going to encourage them, specifically, even more.

“Oh! Madam Director? When the Reclaimers come back, can I watch you destroy the Gaia Sash?” Angus McDonald asks as he looks over her bookshelf in her office. “I really want to see how the Relic Disposal Chamber works.”

Lucretia sighs. She's only known the ten-year-old for less than thirty minutes, and in that time he has not stopped asking questions. That's a good thing, honestly. It makes him a good detective and will serve him well as one of her Seekers, but some of the questions he's asked has gotten a little too close to her past and her personal life for comfort. This, at least, is a benign question, but she didn't realize how careful she's going to have to be about what she says around him and what he observes when she first thought about hiring him.

“Of course you can, Angus. It's going to be quite spectacular to witness, I assure you. They should be getting back soon, actually, and I need to go prepare for that. Do you have any other questions for me that I can answer?”

“Yeah!” He picks up a book and rifles through some of the pages curiously. “Where did you find the Voidfish? There's nothing like it in the world as far as anyone knows, so I'm curious as to how you came across it.”

Damn it. “I didn't so much find it as the Voidfish found me,” Lucretia says carefully. “I was walking through a mountain one day, and I saw it floating around in a cave.”

Angus looks up at her at that. “The Voidfish can float?”

Lucretia smiles and nods. “Yes, it can fly around in the air and swim in the water, but it seems to like the water the best.”

“How did you find out that the Voidfish can erase memories and that you can get around that by drinking its water?”

“Well, when I first came to see it, it was scared of me at first, and it splashed me as I entered the cave. Some of the water got into my mouth, and I remembered some songs and stories that I heard once a long time ago that it must have gotten a hold of and erased. That was really surprising, and it gave me the idea that if the information of the Relics could be erased, then it would be easier to try to collect them and destroy them while preventing the world from killing itself in the mean time. I was able to gain its trust with showing it some of my own writing and artwork, and, well, you know the rest of the story.” Most of that is technically true. Please let him buy the story.

Angus scrutinizes her for a few seconds, and she tries really hard to not hold her breath. Then he nods and turns to put the book back on her shelf. “It's really lucky that you found it when you did and no one else found it first.”

Lucretia sighs a little in relief and smiles. “Yes, I suppose it is.” She stands up and rounds her desk to get to the door. “Is there anything else you want to know, Angus?”

She sees him smirk a little as he picks up another book and starts looking through it nonchalantly. “Yes, ma'am, there's one last thing I'd like to know. How did you find yourself identifying as an alien? I can only assume that you like the idea of being one with the base being disguised as the moon and all.”

Lucretia wants nothing more than to leave her office and slam the door shut behind her dramatically, and she is being so brave about it. She resists the urge, however, and she says in as even a voice as possible, “Angus, I promise you, the moon was just the easiest facade to have explained away for why there is another object in the sky. I am not, and have never identified as, an alien.”

Angus rolls his eyes playfully as he puts the book back on the shelf. “Of course, ma'am. And I'm not the world's greatest detective.”

Lucretia groans and really does leave her office this time, though she leaves the door open for Angus as he laughs behind her.

It's really late at night as Lucretia walks across the quad, alone. It had been a long day. Hell, it's been a long three days since she and everyone defeated the Hunger. Everyone was celebrating both planet side and on the moon, and everyone wanted her and her fa– the people she traveled with for a hundred years, at all of their parties. They had all turned down most of the invitations that first day, but they couldn't keep saying no. So the past two days Lucretia spent jumping from party to party and trying to do everything in her power to avoid the other crew members, particularly Taako. There's only so much of his silent thousand yard stare being directed at her that she could take.

Today had been the first day she was able to start helping the rebuilding effort and relocating people whose homes were destroyed by the Hunger. She spent all day organizing and reassigning roles for her remaining Bureau members who volunteered to stay and help, and she has a long day of meetings with Lord Artemis Sterling and other leaders of various cities and towns to look forward to tomorrow. She should really be asleep. She has to wake up really early tomorrow, after all.

Lucretia stops walking and closes her eyes, taking in the sweet smell of grass and summer air. Grass and summer air that wouldn't exist if they had ran away from the Hunger again or if they had lost.

Was it worth losing them?

“Hey–”

Lucretia scrunches her face up in anger as she spits out, “For gods' sake yes, I am an alien, yes I decided to make my home base on the moon–” She turns around and opens her eyes as she continues with “–no, the joke is not fun...n...y.”

Her last word dies on her tongue as she watches the light in Lup's spectral hood flicker a bit in a slightly amused way. She suddenly feels very bad that she snapped, especially at her, and she looks down at the ground and whispers, “Hey, Lup.”

“Yikes, Creesh, I knew you weren't doing well, but where did that come from? That seems oddly specific.” Lup says.

Lucretia slowly looks up at her and wrings her hands together. “I–“ She sighs. “It's a long story. Just a joke that people have been making for years now that got a resurgence from everyone in the last few days now that... you know...”

“Everyone knows you're an alien?” Lup asks, amused.

“Yeah,” Lucretia sighs. They're silent for a moment before Lucretia says, “Lup, I'm so sor–”

Lup puts up a skeletal hand to stop her. “Lucretia, I didn't come find you because I wanted to hear you apologize again.” She floats down to the ground and pats the spot in the grass next to her. “Will you sit with me?”

Lucretia swallows thickly and nods, carefully lowering herself to the ground. Now that she doesn't have a staff to support her weight, sitting down is much more difficult. She's going to have to ask Magnus–

She can't ask Magnus for anything. She knows he'd do it, but she has no right.

Lup tilts her hood up to look at the stars, and Lucretia does too. There's so many of them, and they're all so beautiful. They look so close and warm, in direct contrast with the cold distance of the few stars that existed in the Judges' World though she doesn't know why that particular memory decided to pop into her head. Maybe it's because she feels similarly to how she felt the morning after that cycle ended. When she had everyone back after her hard and lonely year, and she still felt like it was unreal. Or when she was sitting with the goddess, Itia, in her temple back in that world, staring up at those stars through the windows and telling her her whole life's story. She closes her eyes for a few seconds to let a few silent tears roll down her cheeks before she opens them again to continue looking at the stars. She mentally traces out the constellations she's learned about that this world has as she waits with bated breath for whatever Lup has to say to her. But she says nothing. Instead, she leans her hood against Lucretia's shoulder, and Lucretia can feel her magic energy, buzzing and warm to the touch. And that's enough to fully break her.

Lucretia puts her head down in her hands and starts sobbing, and she can feel Lup try to wrap her arms around her the best that she can. “It's alright, Lucy. I'm here now, and no matter how much you try to avoid me, I'm not going anywhere ever again.”

“I erased you, and then I couldn't find you, and– and– and–”

“Lucretia, we all agree erasing me was a dick move, okay? But you can't get rid of me that easily.” Lup chuckles a little at her own joke, but Lucretia doesn't find it very funny. “There was a break down in communication from all of us, and I can't blame you for doing what you did when I, myself, left without a word to anyone and got my ass trapped in an umbrella.”

“That's different though,” Lucretia chokes out, and Lup pulls away a little to try and look at her better.

“Is it really though?” She asks quietly. “We both left to try and fix our mistake on our own, and we both ended up hurting our family and ourselves, and we both ended up alone. And... Lucy, we promised after the Judges' Cycle that we wouldn't end up alone. Never again. And I know we both broke that promise, but that doesn't mean we can't do better this time.” Lucretia cries harder, and Lup leans in again to rest her hood on her shoulder. “No matter what you did, I still consider you family, Lucy. And I know the others do too whether they want to admit it or not. We're all angry, I'm not going to deny that, but we also miss you, and I'm not going to let you cut yourself off from us as a way of punishing yourself.”

“I just don't– don't want to upset you all ev-even more by hanging a-around,” Lucretia gets out.

Lup hesitates for a moment before she says, “I can't speak for the others, but you're not going to upset me by hanging out with me. I'm fairly certain right now Magnus and Merle feel similarly. It's going to take Taako, Barry, and Davenport some time, but I know they're going to want to be around you too eventually.”

Lucretia nods and leans her head as much against Lup's hood as she can without phasing through, and they hug for a long time as Lucretia's tears subside. When she's left sniffling, she sits upright again and wipes her eyes. “I missed you so much, Lup. And I love you so much.”

Lup floats over so she's right in front of her, and she looks up to see the light in her hood flicker warmly. “I missed you too, Lucy. And I will never stop loving you.”

They embrace again as much as they can, and when they move away, Lucretia says, “Will you stay with me and watch the stars a little longer?”

“Of course.”

Lup floats back to be next to her, and she places her hand over Lucretia's. They're silent for a while as they watch the stars burn bright in the sky. Then Lup bumps her spectral shoulder into Lucretia's shoulder, and she says, “You know, Lucy. You really could have picked for the base to look like anything.”

Lucretia laughs, long and hard, and it feels so good to be able to laugh with her again. “Yeah, I could have.”

I really could have.

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harrysgloves · 3 years

Text

Three to tango

story summary: You, Harry, and Florence have a good time in your makeup trailer.

warnings: Language // THIS IS P*RN WITH LIKE ZERO PLOT // Threesome // w|w // spitting // oral (female receiving) // i have no idea what a production company is so don't come for me.

a/n: Brushing off the metaphorical cobwebs and finally getting back into writing! Woo-hoo! Ending could have been better but... meh. Also, I'm posting from mobile. If it looks weird, blame Tumblr ✌😍

REQUESTED: by @iwannaholdyoutight- and @hazgoldenstyles

And also by all these people... sorry it took so long.. 😁

>>><<<

"Stop movin'." You grumbled for the millionth time that morning. Your focus on covering up all these damn tattoos that you loved had become one of the worst things you had to do almost every morning.

"It tickles." He whined as the makeup brush ran over the inside of his arm. He instantly flinched away from the brush the moment it glided against a particularly sensitive spot.

"Harry!" You groaned, your eyes closed in frustration when he shot you the most adorable puppy eyes.

"'M sorry, kitten." He cooed, his lower lip pouted out when you sighed loudly, grabby hands tried to enclose around your waist before you smacked them away.

"H, I gotta get this done or you're gonna miss set time."

"Wanna kiss." Those big green eyes flashed up to you from his spot in your makeup chair and you knew there was no way you could say no.

"One kiss." You clarified, knowing damn well he'd use kissing you as a distraction from being tickled again.

He nodded eagerly before leaning slightly up to your level. Your eyes narrowed, still not sure you could trust that he wasn't going to divert your attention but his lips.

God, his fucking lips.

They looked so memorizing. The light sheen of chapstick he'd applied earlier was still lingering across the plush pink cushions. His tongue wetting them, taunting you to come closer, and it worked.

You were so naive to think he wouldn't do this.

You squeaked as his hands gripped the fleshy curve of your hips. His lips twitched up into a smile against your own when he pulled you forward onto his lap as quickly as he could.

You knew you should have tried to protest a bit more. You should have attempted to keep him on track but when his thigh pressed against your clothed core, you knew you were done for. His tongue licked into your mouth as his hand got a firm grip on the round flesh of your ass.

"I see what you two do in here." That sweet voice floated through the thickening air in your makeup trailer as she opened the door. Your eyes lazily blinked open to see your smug boyfriend smile wide across his face.

Whatever snarky come back that was sitting on the tip of your tongue was quickly choked down to the back of your throat when you looked up to see her wearing that.

Who knew a robe could turn you on so much?

"Damn." Harry finally commented after your not so subtle shifting of your hips against his thigh. Now he completely understood why you'd suddenly gone silent.

"Shut up." She mumbled under her breath. Her cheeks flamed red from your shameless stares.

"You look great, baby." You smiled brightly, your hand extended out for her to take. "Mhm." Harry's quick agreement had both you and Flor rolling your eyes, but a small smile formed at the corner of her lips.

"Wait til you see what he's got to wear." She smiled brightly, her silky soft hand wrapped tightly in yours as she walked towards the both of you.

"Better hurry up then," you practically jumped off Harry's lap, his lust filled eyes quickly turned fearfully as your eager hands reached for your set of brushes. "Hold him down for me."

"Gonna pay for this later, sweetheart." Harry grumbled as Florence's hand held down his arm.

"Sort of counting on that, Harold. Now, be a good boy and hold still."

>>>

The rest of your day had been absolute torture. Your core ached, your underwear were beyond ruined, and you couldn't wait another minute for the both of them to finally be off set.

Instead, the both of them casually took their time, leisurely hanging around to talk to other cast and crew while you were basically jumping out of your skin to get them back into the privacy of your trailer.

After 30 minutes of them both shooting you sweet smiles and well disguised sultry eyes, you'd had enough. Your feet carried you as quickly across the lot to your haven, your fist clenched in your hand almost as tightly as your core.

You were dripping and the both of them knew you were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.

It started out innocent enough, Harry's tattoos needed to be touched-up about a million times with the edge of his suit rubbing away the makeup there. You had been practically drooling over the both of them all day but when he saw your legs tighten together, he could help but lay it on thick. His hand rested on the small of your back as he circled around you, nose pressed almost completely against your ear as he whispered a raspy thank you.

Florence was just as bad and she wasn't ever the instigator out of the three of you. She couldn't help it when she heard a soft whimper leave your lips when she brushed a few hairs off your forehead when you were redoing her makeup after lunch.

She smiled sweetly, too sweetly, before those plush lips pressed tightly against your own. Her hand laced around your jaw to pull you tighter into her kiss.

She pulled away from you before you were even close to being done. "Only fair that I get to makeout with you in this chair if Harry gets to do it all the time."

You felt like you could combust from how turned on you were and you were done waiting for them to do something about it.

You practically slammed the door to your trailer behind you, making sure to lock it before laying yourself out across your couch that sat in the corner of your room.

If they weren't going to do something about it, you would. Your hands fumbled around with the pesky pants that covered your legs, until you were finally free enough to touch where you needed.

The sigh of relief, shuddering feeling that ran through your body from the contact you were craving only lasted a moment before you heard a metal key fumbling around with the locks on your door.

"Couldn't wait for us?" Harry chuckled, his keys to your trailer thrown on your table top.

"You two were taking forever!" You glared at him through your open legs.

"Told you she couldn't wait any longer." Florence giggled as she pushed her way past Harry. Her hands on her hips but a smile danced on the corner of her lips.

"Are you two going to help me here or?" You were cocky, impatient, and your fingers weren't anywhere near as good as theirs was.

"Might just watch." Harry shrugged with a smug smile as he plopped down on the end of the couch. The furniture was barely big enough for the three of you to sit normally. His hands moved your legs to lay over top of his own. Your eyes could have shot daggers through him as he loosened his tie, his legs spread wide enough that your hand bumped his thigh with every slow circle around your clit.

"Baby." You whined, your pleading eyes flashing towards Flor. Who was already wearing nothing but a smile, her robe abandoned on the floor, and if you weren't so insanely turned on you would have turned to stick your tongue out to Harry. Gloating that at least one of them was nice enough to help you.

Having sex with them always seemed to be frenzied, blurs of quick paced moments that seemed to fly by.

Her thighs rested on either side of you as Harry peeled away the drenched lacy fabric between your legs.

Her tongue dominating your own as she pulled down your top enough to free your breast. Her hands pinching and kneading across them as your back arched further off the couch.

You could hear Harry mumbling out a slur of curses, followed by the sound of his zipper. Your legs were bumped up and down in time with his strokes along his swollen cock.

"Soaking my leg, kitten." He groaned at the sight of your cunt soaking the thin material of his brown suit.

"Thought you were just gonna watch." Florence chuckled, her perfectly pouty lips swollen from how hard she'd been kissing you. The edges of them barely touching your own as she talked to Harry.

"Was gonna but she's so fuckin' wet, Flor." His voice was deeper than usual, gravelly, slow, "Bet I could jus'...."

Your jaw fell open, your back arched off the couch when his fingers filled you. A wild moan ripped from your lungs when he curled them just right.

You could already feel the cord tightening in your lower stomach. You had been so wound up all day long from looking at them you were practically ready to snap within seconds.

"Awe, poor thing's already about to cum." Florence cooed, her hand around the back of your neck, teasing your jaw with the edge of her nose.

You always loved hated how well they could read you. How their teasing words made your face burn and your pussy flood with need.

When she was harshly shifted down further into your chest, her own sweet sounding moan falling from her lips, you couldn't help your own snide remark, "who's the one going to cum too quickly now?"

She probably would have snapped right back at you but she couldn't utter out anything more than whimpers. You knew the feeling, Harry's tongue had a way of doing that, making you both shut up and he had proudly used it on more than one occasion to get you two to stop bickering about dumb stuff.

Your hand laced through her blonde locks, her lips attached to your neck whenever she could control her mouth long enough to kiss your sweet spots. Your nipples peaked at the contact of her breast against your own, Harry's hand still pumped lazily against your sweet spot, his thumb running tight circles around your clit, and while it wasn't enough, you weren't complaining. You weren't ever sure how he managed to focus on eating one of you out while fingering the other when you knew damn well he was about to combust himself.

You knew she was close when her breathing became erratic, her chest heaving against yours. Her whole body shaking as her orgasm washed across her, her panting barely broke when you felt his warm tongue slipping through your folds.

You moaned at the feeling, your hips instantly shifted downwards, craving every bit of contact you could get from him.

You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers with every thick swipe of his tongue across your clit. Your eyes barely staying open when soft kisses were pressed lazily against your neck.

Such a contrast to the harsh grasp of Harry's free hand digging into your one thigh. His gruts and groans were only muffled by the deafening sound of your soaking core.

Florence perked up her head from your chest, carefully turning herself completely around. Her legs on either side of your head as she draped herself across you to watch Harry at work.

Her sweet honey only inches from your face and fuck did you want a taste. You wet your lips, hands pushing her thighs down but she wouldn't budge.

Your huff of protest was quickly choked down when Harry's tongue ran tight circles around your clit.

"Gonna share?" That sweet voice asking that innocent question about broke you. Your walls clenched tightly trying to not get Harry to stop his fingers from slipping out of you, almost crying when they did anyway.

"Course, baby."

You squeaked, your legs pushed backwards by your thighs, your body almost folded in half.

"Fuck, you got her soaking the couch."

You were suddenly very appreciative about the fact neither one of them could see the embarrassment burning through your face. Your forehead pressed to Florence's leg as you whined, not wanting them to point how just how turned on you were.

You heard two simultaneous shushing sounds before your lower lips were pulled apart, the cool air licked across your slick, only making you whine louder.

When you heard and felt Harry's spilt against your core you thought you were done for. Lip tucked so tightly between your teeth you could taste the faintest hint of metallic against your tongue.

Then the softest kitten lick had you losing your mind, her tongue collecting all of his saliva on your clit before swirling around your entrance.

"Fuck," you cried, your nails digging crest moons into the flesh of Florence's thighs. "please, just fuck me already!"

"Don't think she can take anymore teasing Flor." Harry chuckled, yeah, chuckled, from between your thighs.

"But I was having fun." She pouted, her tongue stopping its mesmerizing movements.

"Can 'ave fun with her after." Harry said as he started to shed the layers of his suit.

"I'm literally right here!" You complained, your huff of annoyance jammed down your throat when Harry pulled up by your legs. Your face now exposed to his smirking, mischief filled eyes.

"We know, baby," he cooed, almost too sweetly, something about the look behind his eyes made your pussy flutter but your mind anxious about how sore you'd be tomorrow. "Ass up for me."

You eagerly nodded your head, trying to roll over in your place before the tsking clicks of his tongue stopped your movements.

"Like this." He said, pulling you off the couch. Your knees on the hard linoleum floor, your elbows resting on the seat of cushion in front of you. Giving Flor just enough space to sit pretty right in front of you.

Your arms instinctively circling around her thighs, pulling her core down to mouth. Her moans filled the small space around you. Vibrating off the walls with an echo.

"Should 'ave done this in 'ere before." Harry mumbled more to himself than to either one of you as his tip teased your entrance. Your hips swayed instantly at the contact, slowly backing up the little bit you could to feel him slip inside of you.

He hissed, his fingers gripped the round flesh of your ass tightly before he surged forward, stuffing you to the brim with his cock.

"I ruin this pussy 'most everyday and you're still so fuckin' tight." He gritted out through his teeth, your walls clenched down around him at his words.

"Guess you're not fucking her good enough then."

Your eyes widened in disbelief belief, disconnecting from her core so your mouth could gape in shock.

Did she hate you being able to walk?

"That so?"

"'S what I said."

"Kitten," You squeaked when you were lifted by your shoulder, your back against Harry's chest. His hands snaked under your shirt just long enough to rip it off. "you can thank Flor tomorrow for why you won't be able to sit."

"She'll probably be thanking me." The blonde rolled her eyes playfully teasing but enjoying the fact she was getting under his skin.

"Need me to stop, just tap my leg," his deep voice husked into your ear. Your hand tapping his leg, showing him you understood, before you were hurled back in front of Florence's core by the back of your head. "good girl, now lick."

You had Harry go hard on you before but when he sheathed himself fully inside of you in one go, you knew you were really going to be in for it.

Your tongue tried to desperately get Flor off as fast as you could, your fingers slamming into her sweet spot, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You had a hard time knowing where to focus. Her addictive taste or his marksman worthy precision thrusts into your g-spot.

Your body felt like warm liquid was being pumped through your veins. Both of them gripping onto you at different ends, his hips grinding against your ass as he sat balls deep in your pussy. Her hips dragging against your mouth, fucking herself against your face.

The sound of their collective moans slicked through the sticky, sex filled, air around you. Your mind lost in that space of non-thinking as your body moved back and forth between the two of them.

"Gonna cum all over my cock, sweetheart?" Your walls tightened around him as her fingers dug deeper into the back of your head. Her own cord snapping only moments before your own.

The white burning light washing through your body followed by the familiar gush of fullness in your lower tummy.

"Holy shit," Florence breathed out, her arm dropped across her forehead.

"Why haven't we done that here before?" Harry asked through short breaths.

"'S company property." You mumbled against the couch, your head buried into the soft material as your legs gave out to lay on the heaven-like cold floor below you. "We literally just said fuck you to New Line Cinema."

You heard chuckling from either side of you, both of them still slightly out of breath.

"Hope we don't work with them again then."

#harry styles x reader #florence pugh x reader #harry styles x florence pugh x reader #harry styles x you #Florence pugh x you #Florence pugh x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #florence pugh fanfic #florence pugh fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #mine #writing #threes company #three to tango #in the middle

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mlpdestinyverse · 3 years

Text

“The Bigger One”

Heather Tart is used to many things, be it receiving praise, using her charm to sway a situation to her favor, or asserting her dominance as a respected student at Twilight's School of Friendship.

A punch to the face...is not one of those things.

Feat. Star Chime, Heather (Tart) Reed

Related Chapters: Tongue Twister, Honesty, Confrontation ~Destinyverse Archive~

Story and Description Under The Cut

Heather Tart had a plan. Of course she did. Her meticulous mind could think its brilliant way through anything. Especially when she had a goal so close to her she might just be able to touch it. As such, she used her natural charisma to discreetly excuse herself out of her afterschool clubroom that day. It was a little earlier than the typical time her Science Club ended. Not that it mattered. Not only did their activities finish early, but in their final moments of leisure time, only one topic buzzed relentlessly around the classroom. Princess Luna was here, visiting the School of Friendship. Under what pretense - and for how long - no one knew. Near the end of the day, the regal Alicorn had been spotted by a stray hall monitor. Striding beside Princess Twilight Sparkle, Luna had been touring the school grounds between class periods, quietly observing the students through door windows while they busied themselves with classwork. Yet she was nowhere to be seen once said periods had ended and the hallways bustled with hooves and claws alike. Elusive as ever, their mysterious Moon Princess. One could assume the Princess of the Night had discreetly taken her leave long ago; glorious gossip, however, said otherwise.

Heather's heart had nearly burst when she'd heard the news. Years of dreaming and the heavenly Alicorns were finally rewarding her. The teenaged Earth Pony resisted prancing through the empty halls in her excitement. Upon trotting out the front doors, Heather scanned the beautiful frontal schoolyard and its glistening pond that surrounded the entrance. The sky was still gray from its brief shower hours before, and with careful hooves, the filly made her way across the damp stones cutting through the pond and around the side of the school. With even more precaution, Heather made sure to avoid the mud in favor of patches of rain-touched grass. She hated nothing more than muddying her hooves. And if she was going to meet Princess Luna? She was going to do everything to ensure she'd look as elegant and pristine as ever. Step one: Make her way towards the back, where she knew the school's picnic tables were scattered about just for students during their lunch periods and downtime. Step two: Grab the nearest table towards the backdoors. Probability told her, almost without a shadow of a doubt, that this would be the very exit Princess Luna would use if her tendency to avoid crowds and not cause a fuss was anything to go by. It wasn't one hundred percent guaranteed, but the chances were high enough that Heather was willing to take it. It wouldn't be out of character for her, either. Heather loved sitting at a table on a sunny day to quietly work on homework. Sometimes, as president of her club, she'd even sit there to plan out new fun lab experiments for the Science Club's next meeting. Studious. Conscientious. Hard-working. She could never get enough of teachers and students alike noticing her and praising her efforts. As they should. The scenario in her mind played out the same way. She'll be sitting there, hunched over a notebook and mulling over new club activities, when Princess Luna and Twilight waltz their way out of those doors. They'll see her, Twilight will ask her what she's doing, and Heather would yet again demonstrate her leadership and intellect. Twilight will praise her, introduce her to Luna as one of her best students- And the youngest of the royal sisters will look upon her and remember her name. Heather could feel her heart racing and subconsciously her hooves picked up their pace. Meeting the other princesses, catching their attention, and standing out amongst the drabble...if she were to be honest, she didn't realize just how much she ached for it. Not until now. Not until it was so close- Heather turned the corner, honing in on the table she knew would be hers- Only to find another sitting there. And oh, at the sight of her, Heather felt her very blood boil. Of course she just had to be here. The dullest, most boring-looking Unicorn that had ever insulted Heather's eyes; dull white and cream coat, drab grayish-blue mane, pale and ugly blue irises as narrow as a snake's. And who could ever miss that long, rat-like tail with a tuff of mane at the end, just lying on the bench beside her. She wanted to laugh at this filly's attire too, trying to pass off as prim and proper with an outfit that only made her look like a senile office worker. Heather knew very well who this was. And she despised her very existence. But as a filly of her own standing at this school, she had appearances to keep up. So with the most saccharine smile she could muster, Heather took long, deliberate steps towards the other filly. It didn't take long for the Unicorn to notice her, those snake eyes flicking up from what had to be the most ostentatious book Heather had ever seen; silver and grey with metallic decor on its cover, embedded with one large tacky-looking gem just as blue-gray and washed out as the filly it belonged to. Heather stopped beside the table, avoiding a muddy patch beneath it, and held the Unicorn's gaze as much as those eyes repulsed her up close. "Hi there! You must be new around here!" Heather chirped. She gave the filly a chance to at least muster a reply. She should have expected the Unicorn to

cautiously eye her like a socially inept buffoon. After an awkward few seconds, she nodded. "I am," the filly managed. Good for her. "Well isn't that nice!" Heather lies through her teeth and a beaming smile. "Then I can't blame you for not knowing! Where you're sitting right now is my usual seat. But hey, now you know, so I'm sure you won't mind moving for me, hm~?" The Unicorn stared at her. Two seconds. Five seconds. Heather watched impatiently as the other filly swept her gaze across the other empty tables around them, almost pointedly. 'Yeah. You heard what I said. I'm not being subtle. Get lost.' Victory was in her grasp, of course. She wasn't the only one here that had pretenses to maintain and denying her civility would only make this filly look like the asshole of the two. And that wouldn't make the Unicorn much of a role model, now would it? Heather's innocent smile stretched expectantly, taking in the Unicorn's deadpan expression boring into her. Another annoying second later and the other filly finally shut her book tight, sliding it to one side without breaking eye contact. "No. I don't think I will." Heather's smile twitched. How she didn't take into account a lack of even the most basic social courtesies from this filly, she'll never know. "Well that's a little harsh," Heather feigned hurt, disguising the simmering fury just beneath her skin. "I just wanted my favorite seat for my studying. Is that really too much to ask for?" An unwavering, distrustful narrow of those eyes was the Unicorn's only response. So. That's how it was going to be. ...yet face-to-face with such blatant defiance, Heather - for the first time - was at a dead end. There was no sweet talking that face. And with no one around, there was no leverage here for her to turn the tables. Behind pursed lips her jaw clenched and her teeth grated. Pathetic. Pathetic. It infuriated her how rapidly the power had shifted - power taken from her in the one place Heather had worked for it. Power THIS outsider didn't deserve. It was then that Heather's eye honed in on a certain pretty little book, teetering near the edge of the table. Ah. Okay then. Heather could take a loss. She could take a small, minuscule hit to her pride. No one was there to see it. Her goal was still in reach, so long as she kept up pleasantries and proceeded with her plan at the next table over. Heather, however, wasn't above taking small, subtle, petty victories. Anything for the satisfaction of reminding others where she stood around here. "That's too bad...but I understand." Heather sighed and hung her head. "I won't bother you." She turned her body, then. Too quickly. Or just fast enough to make the harsh bump of her flank against the table's edge at least semi-believable. She listened for it... SQUISH A gross squelch cut the silence, a sound that was beautiful to her ears. As she had hoped, turning back around revealed the plummeted book, lying delightfully amongst the brown patch of muck below the table. Despite her gasp, Heather could barely stop herself from grinning at her success. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, and it was just as difficult to stifle a much-needed laugh, especially with how much this Unicorn's face had slackened at the sight beneath them; silvers and greys, now smeared with dark mud. The other filly took in the filthy book with dim eyes. Poor spoiled girl. "I'm so sorry! Let me-" Heather's hoof was inches away from picking up the book to present to the Unicorn - a grand power move in her head - when a sourceless light blinded her. The Earth Pony barely had time to react before something solid rammed straight into her face. All she could do was squeal and tumble back into the ground at the excruciating pain and the sheer force of the impact. There was a wet slippery slide of the earth below her, displaced by the collision of her body. She didn't even know she was holding her stinging face until she pulled back trembling hooves from it, furiously blinking her blurry vision back into focus. Her head throbbed, the blood rushing into it

pulsing loudly in her ears. While her world was reassembling itself, Heather felt the fabric of her torso become seized and in moments her entire body was being pulled up by a shocking amount of strength. The open-air was suddenly freezing against her pelt, forcing her delayed senses to fully experience the scorching hot pain spreading through her muzzle and cheeks. Her left eye especially struggled to stay open, even as another face shoved itself into hers. The filly before her breathed shallowly against her nose, wild and unhinged eyes resembling a beast now more than ever. "That," the Unicorn heaved out in a heavy, shaking breath. She renewed her grip on Heather's dress, expression distorted into a monstrous snarl. "Was father's you heartless wench!" Heather felt like a ragdoll, swaying on weak, dirtied hindlegs, one hoof pathetically draped over the vice-grip holding her in place. Her brain felt shaken, thoughts racing. And her blood ran cold when the other filly let out a quiet, humorless laugh at her. "Oh, I know your type..." the Unicorn whispered breathlessly, those venomous irises burning holes into her. "Thinking you're the biggest fish in the pond. Like you can lord over everyone else without consequence. You think no one can stand up against you." Heather choked on a sound as her face was pulled in further, a breath ghosting her muzzle even hotter than before. Her panicked magenta eyes darted up to the Unicorn's horn; what was already glowing a haunting silvery-blue now crackled violently with energy, stray white sparks searing into her exposed skin. A primitive growl ripped out of the other filly, and in those ferocious eyes, Heather swore she saw bloodlust. "How's it feel to meet a bigger fucking fish?" Heather screamed. It was something raw and primitive of her own, and she thrashed in the other filly's hold to no avail. She didn't know how long that went on for, wasn't sure how much time was passing as she waited for another strike- "STAR CHIME!" A booming, commanding voice filled the space, powerful enough to tremor the ground beneath them. Her ears only then registered a number of other voices rising in volume and proximity. The rigid muscles in her neck ached when she finally turned her head just enough to see out of the corner of her eye. So many heads were sticking out of classroom windows, no doubt stragglers from clubs that surely have ended by now. Amongst those faces, she could recognize a few teachers, and to the right... Princess Twilight and Princess Luna, with the backdoors thrown open around them. Her attacker jerked away, releasing Heather to let her fall onto her forelegs. As soon as she was released, a blur of movement rushed out from the creatures gathered behind the two Alicorns. "Heather!" The Earth Pony almost instinctively flinched away, but was immediately soothed by the familiar arms of her best friend, Amber Shine, cradling her form. It amazed her how the Pegasus filly was willingly angling her body to both support her weight and shield her if need be. Despite the protective walls surrounding her, Heather still had a clear view of the princesses. Twilight looked absolutely horrified. But clearly someone else here held the most oppressive presence and authority. Princess Luna looked upon the scene with a frigid death stare that would cut through anyone. And it was trained on one single filly. "What is this?!" Luna demanded, her deep voice rumbling the air like thunder. When she strode forward, not even Twilight dared to stay in step. She trailed behind the other princess with shock etched into her youthful features. The Unicorn shuffled, and Heather watched Star Chime's newly distressed visage come to life. Her long tail lashed behind her like an agitated cat. "She knocked father's tome into the muck, mother!" Star shouted, eyes darting wildly from Heather to Princess Luna. The Alicorn's expression actually faltered for a second before her sharp blue eyes landed on Heather. And Heather's heart jolted in terror. 'No...no! Don't you dare ruin this for

me!' "It was an accident!" Heather wailed back, letting every ounce of emotion pour into her voice. Near-instantly, Star Chime whipped towards her with a scowl. "You LIAR!" "ENOUGH!" Star Chime's head snapped up to look at her mother, as Princess Luna now stood a mere tail length before them, dark blue wings flaring out behind her. "That does not constitute violence against a defenseless subject, Star Chime!" And as the lunar princess seared those harsh eyes into her daughter, it dawned on Heather the advantage she had. The position she was in, with her face undoubtedly swollen and appearance soiled by the assault of that horrid young princess. She was more grudgeful now than fearful, though she couldn't deny the tears of pain and prior-fear-for-her-life that had left streaks in their wake. However, there was room to play it up further. So focusing on the pain and just how overwhelmed she felt? A hiccuping, sniveling mess she became. "Y-you didn't even let me pick it up for you!" Heather sobbed out, pressing her wet cheek into her friend's warm chest. The sweet Pegasus comfortingly stroked her hair. She could just imagine the pity on Amber's brow. "You just attacked me out of nowhere! E-even after I apologized!" Murmurs. Sweet murmurs of concern and disbelief sounded from the far-off onlookers. They knew her; thoughtful, honest Heather, who got along with everyone and had a spotless record. In the face of unnecessary violence, they literally had no reason to doubt her. Besides, how was she supposed to know that garish book was from the late King? Not even the Alicorns above could claim she was lying here. "Oh Heather..." Twilight murmured compassionately, and that alone filled her to the brim with glee. Checkmate. "M-mother, please, I just..." Star Chime begged uselessly. Oh, begging suited her. Too bad she had nothing to excuse her brutishness. She lost this battle ages ago. Heather knew, because Princess Luna could only exhale deeply, her countenance a storm of emotions that the filly was honestly clueless to identify. What Heather hadn't seen coming was the sudden shift in the Moon Princess' expression from there; from rigid and grave to sheer exhaustion and sadness. "I thought we were past this..." Luna whispered, so quietly that Heather had nearly missed it. The true proof that those words were even spoken was the way Star Chime recoiled as if she had been slapped. Heather jumped as feathers slid over her back, only to realize Princess Twilight had moved forward to reassert authority. After shooting her a gentle glance, she returned her attention to the other princesses. She hesitated before opening her mouth to speak- Luna beat her to it. "I have changed my mind, Twilight." Luna began, collecting herself just as quickly as the shift had happened. "Star Chime will not be attending your school after all." Heather would have whistled were this not an inopportune time. She simply sat back and enjoyed the unfolding drama as Star Chime looked at her mother with wide, shell-shocked eyes, frantically searching Luna's face for an answer already before her. "Mother," Star Chime's voice cracked, desperation seeping through. "No, please, let me prove myself-!" "There is nothing to prove." Luna quietly interjected. Her general demeanor was no longer of disappointment or even judgment, but somber patience of all things. "I realize now that you require more of my attention than what little I have given you...perhaps in the future you may return to Ponyville. But now is not your time." As if to make her point, Luna subtly swept her gaze across the onlookers, and Star Chime followed her line of sight. Heather had to agree, Princess Luna was practically showing her mercy. Imagine attending classes here after making a first impression like this. She'd be the talk of the halls. Every soul in Twilight's School would know of the violent princess who punched one of their top students square in the face (and Heather would absolutely make sure every ear knew of it). Little miss Star Chime was better off being pulled

out of this school before she even started. It'd give Heather less of a migraine and save her the humiliation. Just like... "Allow me to extend my deepest apologies in place of my daughter," Luna said towards Heather, whisking away every other thought in her mind. While she began to buzz in delight, that buzz slowly died down at the unreadable expression the Moon Princess wore. She was as formal and distant as ever. Almost...scrutinizing her? Where was her sympathy? "I will be holding a very thorough discussion with her over these events, and I intend to offer reparation to you and your kin." "Heather's parents aren't here in Ponyville," Twilight finally found an opening to speak, taking on the tone of a responsible princess. "But Applejack is her guardian, so I'll be contacting her soon to pick Heather up." "Very well. I will return shortly to speak to her, then, and recompense will be sent to the family." Heather perked up when the royal addressed her once more. "I understand that you are distressed. I will be escorting Star Chime away from here, and you will have time to recover with your friends. I hope you do not mind." Heather sniffled and swiped a hoof over her face. "I don't mind...thank you, princess." Luna's attention left her too quickly for Heather's liking, focusing on the Unicorn princess instead. "Come, Star." Luna called in a hushed voice, taking her exit with grace and purpose. Heather's focus shifted to Star Chime just as the Unicorn's horn lit aglow with that very same eerie silvery blue, levitating the grimy book out of the sludge. As parts of the wet mud slipped off in thick glops, the Unicorn gave the book's cover a weak swipe of her hoof, only managing to smudge muck further into its intricate crevices. While Luna departed with the elegance and power of true royalty, Star all but dragged her hooves after her, gaze downcast and mouth pressed into a firm line. Unsurprisingly, she shot one final scorching side glance at Heather Tart through her draping bangs. It lingered until Heather left her periphery and the Unicorn could only trail after her mother like a helpless foal.

Pressing her head further into her friend's chest, Heather sneered at the filly's retreating back until she rounded the corner and out of sight. 'That's what you get, rat princess.' "Heather, are you okay? What did she even do?!" Now that the immediate threat was gone, her colt friend Arctic Bolt was charging in from the small crowd, nearly slipping a few times in his scramble over. Oh great. Heather wasn't sure if she was in the mood for the buckball star's overdone jests and witty quips at this moment. Yet she couldn't reject the amount of attention and concern she was receiving. "Gods, I think she gave you a black eye." Amber Shine fretted. The filly helped Heather sit up, but the moment she even tried to brush a hoof near the Earth Pony's left socket, Heather flinched away and grunted. "Punched me." Heather forced out through gritted teeth once Arctic had slowed to a stop before them. "Fell to the ground..." "Geez, it's like your dress took as much of a beating as you did..." Arctic muttered. And as much as she wanted to roll her eyes at his dumb remark, looking down proved that the joke was more accurate than she'd realized. Red fabric was now stained with mud and grass and stretched out past its limits by the iron grip of that wretched beast. Or maybe it didn't look so bad! MAYBE that was just her, peering at it with one eye while she held shut the one that was throbbing and bruising over. Yeah. That remuneration better come fast- "Heather, I am so sorry." Twilight's voice promptly grabbed her attention. The Alicorn mare bent her legs to meet her height, looking to her with so much guilt that one would think the perpetrator had been one of her own family. "This shouldn't have happened. Star Chime has been working hard through some of her...habits, and while she's made progress she's also very emotional at heart and then after losing her father-" This was very new and very disconcerting, watching Princess Twilight Sparkle actually fumble through her words and appear rather flustered over the situation. Heather felt her jaw clench. The two had to be pretty close for Twilight to feel this compelled to defend the girl. "That said, harm should have never come to you, especially on my premises. I just...I hope you won't hold this against her. If circumstances were different, I really think you two would have gotten along." Oh. Heather could not stop her face from screwing up at that. Twilight noticed (Heather for once hoped she did, God forbid the Friendship Princess actually tried to forcibly mend this atrocity) and her shoulders noticeably drooped. "But I completely understand if this has damaged those chances."

Twilight took in a healthy breath of air and straightened back up. While she once again spoke with calm and control, the way her ears remained pinned back was hard to miss. "Please head in and wait outside my office whenever you're ready, Heather. I'll let the nurse know to prepare an ice pack for you before I get in contact with Applejack. This'll definitely take some time, so please bear with me." Ugh. Applejack. As if her voice wasn't already annoying to listen to on a daily basis. Now the older mare was going to fuss knowing her overprotective nature and Heather wasn't looking forward to having her ear talked off on how slices of raw potato and toothpaste were the grand answer to healing her face or whatever ridiculous ideas those country bumpkins had in their screwy heads. Moving out and away from the farm life couldn't come sooner. But there were bigger things to focus on in the present. It wasn't until Twilight had walked off, exchanging words with the last few students who were being herded away by the remaining school staff, that Amber Shine voiced a question that had been on Heather's own mind. "What did she mean by...'working through habits'?" The orange Pegasus uttered slowly, eyeing the backdoors as the final student filed in after the princess. "That was way more unsettling than it had to be." "Oh...oh Gods it's all connecting..." Both Heather and Amber turned to Arctic, who was now holding his head between his hooves in what appeared to be either alarm or a headache. Ever the dramatic one. Heather would have been tempted to snap at him for obnoxiously drawing the suspense out, but thankfully Amber was faster and more patient. "Uh, mind sharing?" The Pegasus cautiously prodded, now giving her friend a hesitant glance-over. Arctic's wide blue eyes flashed back into focus and he began wildly gesturing with his hooves- "Okay listen- I have this friend in Canterlot whose cousin went to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns with this other guy, right-" "The friend of a friend's cousin." Amber repeated, and oh, Heather recognized that tone as the filly already being half-done with the conversation. Bless her. "Easy to follow. Carry on." "No, seriously listen!" Arctic hissed quietly, and for the first time since Heather had met the silver Earth Pony, he actually looked like he was being serious. "My friend told me this story about how apparently, Princess Star Chime got pulled out of school for completely thrashing that cousin's friend! Said there was blood and teeth everywhere and she beat the poor guy until he was begging on the floor!" Heather could feel her visible eye nearly bug out of its socket. "And they tried to let someone like THAT come HERE?!" she near shrieked. Her friends were lucky that she had already spent her vocal cords not too long ago. "It IS the School of Friendship. Guess they were hoping to make her less punchy." He muttered out one of his wisecracks. Heather's head was whirling too much for her to admonish it. How close had she just come to being battered into a stain on the grass? Wait...actually- "Okay, but why are we only just now hearing about this?" Amber, ever a kindred spirit, inquired the very same disbelief in her own mind. "The newspapers would have blown up over a royal scandal like that!" Heather agreed. And if she had possessed this knowledge just a little earlier, maybe she would have treaded just a bit more carefully. At the very least, she would have been able to figure out a way to use it to her advantage... "Well for one, it was like, two years ago... and apparently not a lot of ponies got to witness the attack. But-" Arctic leaned his head in, head whisking about in search of eavesdroppers before dropping his voice even lower. "It sounded like Celestia and Luna covered the whole thing up and made everyone involved agree to keep the information private. So most of the public has no idea what happened, but obviously whispers managed to slip through a few mouths in upper Canterlot..." "Wow..." Heather whispered. Yeah. That was probable. The princesses

had the power. And while Heather knew anyone else would have been a little frightened over the influence their rulers had, whether for the sake of a nation or for their own means...Heather herself was sort of amazed. As if she could actually blame them for going to such lengths to conceal the shame that girl would have brought to their exalted family otherwise. "But even before that!" Arctic swiftly continued. "Apparently the kids at the school were already dubbing her the 'Delinquent Princess' behind her back! My friend's cousin never knew why until...y'know." "Delinquent Princess." Amber repeated back. "What a...stupid name." 'And I think it's fitting...' Heather was tempted to add but miraculously toned her spite down. "...I mean Ithoughtitsoundedbadass- but only because I thought the whole story was just some elaborate rumor!!" Arctic threw up his hooves. "I didn't think someone from the royal family could be that crazy, yet here we are! So don't talk like it's nothing but made-up gossip after what just happened!"

"...you're not wrong." Amber muttered, and her wing pulled Heather closer into her side. The earth filly welcomed the warmth, though she didn't like the look of discomfort on her friend's face. "In other words, we're talking about violent habits. And from a princess of Equestria...that's awful." "Yep. She is. But let's stop talking about her for now" Heather muttered, feeling both sets of eyes fall on her. The more she heard, the more that resentment deep within her grew. And the more that grew, the more her temples ached beyond the limits of what she was willing to deal with. "I think I'd like that ice pack right about now." "Oh crap, right!" Arctic jumped, urgently motioning for the fillies to walk ahead while he kept the rear. "Got a little carried away. We'll stick around until Twilight gets back!" "Yeah. Twilight did say it'd take a while." With a comforting smile, Amber Shine squeezed Heather's shoulder with her wing feathers. "I say it a million times, but just as a reminder; we've got you, girl." And she appreciated the encouragement. She really did. But Heather found it incredibly hard to muster more than a ghost of a smile when she found her legs on autopilot while her mind was elsewhere. 'Stop talking about her" she'd said. Yet she couldn't even bring her own brain to shut up. When it came to the very thought of that Unicorn princess, ugly green thorns never stopped digging their way into her ribcage. But after today... Heather's inner snarl rang with unconcealed bitterness, louder than ever before. 'How? How does someone like her get to be a princess?'

_________________________________________

Officially introducing Star Chime! Daughter of Luna, sister of Prince Amadeus, and youngest royal of the five royal Equestrian children (Princess Flurry Heart, Princess Lumina, Prince Amadeus, Prince Nova Spark, and Princess Star Chime, in that order)! Though by youngest, she's probably a year or two younger than Nova Spark.

I'm excited that she's ready to officially be a part of the cast!! I've considered her and Dream Flow the future main protagonists of present-day story. One day she'll meet her partner in crime. One day...

Also, very fun to write a chapter exploring Heather's psyche! In no way am I advocating for violence against misbehaving kids, by the way. I know people will see this as Heather "getting what she deserves" - and wanting to see karma get her is valid - but just know the purpose of this chapter wasn't me trying to take pleasure in physically "punishing" this kid, back when she was a youth with very misguided values. Just wanted that to be clear!

#mlp #mlp art #mlp oc #My Liittle Pony #Heather Tart Reed #Star Chime #Princess Luna #Twilight Sparkle #destinyverse #story

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nervousladytraveler · 3 years

Text

From Duty (Ch. 10?)

“Prudie? Is someone at the door?” Demelza called from the kitchen. It was the only room in the house that didn’t feel oppressively damp when it rained, compliments of the stove that remained lit most hours of the day.

She'd been waiting for the ancient oven to heat just a bit more before she put the newly formed loaves in to bake. After a few attempts--with mixed results--she felt she’d finally gotten the knack of the thing. How to time the fire so that it would be hot enough for the bread to rise and crisp but not so hot that the crust would burn. Perhaps there was a complex mathematical equation she could have used but instead she relied on trial and error. And on the days when she’d found mostly error, she solemnly chewed the dense slices of disappointment, resolved to do better the next time. She hoped the boys in Weapons Development were more methodical in their research than she was. Trial and error doesn’t cut it when you are trying to get a 5200 pound fighter plane off the ground.

Boys. Demelza always thought of the men in the armed forces as ‘boys’. Was it their merry outlooks, like lads about to go out on the football pitch against a rival school, or was it their immature aggression and unbridled recklessness?

“Prudie?” Demelza called again but when she turned around she saw the woman filling the doorway to the kitchen with such a grim expression that Demelza threw her well-floured hands in the air.

“Christ! What is it?” she gasped. Please not a telegram.

Since she’d arrived in Cornwall she’d received three telegrams--all from Ross--but those had been informational. Not coded exactly, just cryptically phrased.

Beehive is moving locations. Details to follow soon, signaling the office that had no name now had a new location, and presumably Ross did as well. Then there was Will send builders to fix roof first week in March, meaning his leave had been granted and he could finally visit her at Nampara. The most recent one was At old garden allotment. Many new vegetables. So Ross was back in London but had a new assignment.

Still for most folks, telegrams rarely brought good news.

“It’s...we’ve a caller...and…” Prudie stammered.

“Yes?”

“It’s her. The other one. Mrs. Elizabeth Poldark,” Prudie huffed. The shuffle from hallway to kitchen apparently had been enough to exhaust her oxygen supply.

“Oh?” Demelza said coolly but felt her face grow as hot as the coals in the stove. “To see me?”

Prudie swallowed hard and nodded.

“Well then. Please attend to her while I freshen myself up,” Demelza replied.

“How ‘xactly should I do that?”

“Offer her some tea, Prudie. Show her into the parlour...oh, but make sure she doesn’t sit on the green chair.” An old spring had poked its way through the upholstery and if one’s bottom wasn’t settled with precise care, an unpleasant pinch would surely follow.

“We haven’t got much left. Tea, that is,” Prudie said.

“Enough for a pot now?” Demelza questioned. This was news to her. She sensed Prudie was stalling for some other reason.

“Yes but then mebbe not for tomorrow or the day after that,” Prudie replied and looked to her feet so Demelza knew she was exaggerating the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh? Well I can try to get more,” Demelza sighed. It would mean begging for yet another ride in Sir Hugh’s automobile but might be worth it.

Perhaps she could forage for greens and herbs and make something of her own instead. She suspected Mrs. Zacky Martin might be able to teach her more about such country ways, perfected through centuries of economy. On more than one occasion the woman had mentioned her home remedies to Demelza.

“Well surely she has plenty over at her place. So why don’t you leave it for you--and me--and she can just…” Prudie huffed.

Demelza did wonder if Elizabeth Poldark even knew how to make her own cup of tea.

“Prudie, put the kettle on the stove,” Demelza said firmly and went to go look in the glass.

Her hair had been tied up in an old rust coloured scarf. She considered taking it down and tidying the whole affair but doubted she’d have time enough to do anything that would actually make a difference, so she tucked one errant curl under the band wound round her head.

Best to leave her apron on as well. It signaled--it telegraphed--benign domesticity and wasn’t that how Demelza wanted to come across? Just a simple housewife, trying her best to make do. Not as scheming--and pregnant--hussy who was actively trying to steal her visitor’s husband.

“Mrs. Carne, how do you do?” Elizabeth asked and rose to her feet. Her eyes darted up and down Demelza’s expanding frame then she demurely looked at the floor.

Demelza looked at her own swollen feet and tried not to laugh.

“Well, Mrs. Poldark, such a surprise. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Demelza said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster, then remembered she was supposed to be a war widow. She was sure her facial muscles twitched in confusion but perhaps it would pass as grief. “Prudie is making us some tea. I’m sorry it's so damp in here,” she said without offering to light the fire.

“Yes, this cottage has always been damp," Elizabeth said asserting her connection with the place. “And you are getting on well, Mrs. Carne?”

“Yes, yes I am. I have your family’s kindness to thank for that…”

“Oh? My family?”

“For letting the house?”

“Yes, the house,” Elizabeth laughed, barely disguising her disdain for the place. “It’s not mine. It’s been in my husband’s family for years. He was born here.”

I know, Demelza thought. I saw the marks on the wall measuring his growth and I found the cupboard full of his old clothes. I see the place as a monument to his family, she sees it as a nuisance and reminder of people she never loved.

“Was my husband, Mr. Poldark--was he solicitous when he visited last month?” Elizabeth asked.

“Erm…” Demelza tried not to choke.

“About any repairs that need doing. There’s a shortage of materials and good labour but if there is an urgent need I’m sure he can see that it is attended to,” Elizabeth said.

She knows.

“Yes, Mr. Poldark has been very helpful.”

“He fixed the roof!” Prudie chimed in and this time, Demelza was grateful for her assistance.

Demelza wished she could climb inside her teacup, far away from Elizabeth Poldark’s probing gaze.

So Elizabeth knew that Ross had visited Nampara--he probably told her that himself. Did she know how long he’d stayed or in whose bed? Did she guess that Ross was the father of the child Demelza carried?

She hated to admit she was jealous of Elizabeth Poldark. A woman who had all the claims to Ross--legally, socially--that she did not. And Elizabeth was a woman whose physical love he had enjoyed, presumably she'd his heart too at one point, even if it was long ago.

But mostly Demelza was jealous because she feared that, despite all she herself had shared with Ross these last four months, Elizabeth still knew him better.

#wip wednesday #poldark fanfic #ross poldark #demelza carne #elizabeth poldark #lucretiassister

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