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#& then when i give her the answers in the gentlest way i can so she doesnt feel bad (even tho she should) she doesnt listen to me anyways
goethitee · 2 years
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hate hate hate when people aks your advice & then ignore it
#i should say beg actually. she begs for my advice on dog stuff#& then ignores me#‘why is he doing this’ ‘how do i deal with this’ ‘ hes sick what do i do’ ‘what should i do about this’#& then when i give her the answers in the gentlest way i can so she doesnt feel bad (even tho she should) she doesnt listen to me anyways#todays wasnt that bad but i rlly didnt want to answer cuz i didnt want to feel like… too involved ig idk#she asked me what to name her new puppy. obviously im not just gonna tell her what to name her fricken dog thats over stepping#but she cant leave well enough alone. so i said wjat we do (which has also been reinforced for me because freds dog trainers say the same#figure out what kind of vibe you want for your pet. the name helps shape who theyll be so u gatta figure out what u want first#i also said how there doesnt need to be a name rn she can think on it#but does she listen to me? no. ‘hm idk what vibe i want. i want a name now so i can call him’#why ask. why.#also the fact that she got this dog also rlly ticks me off lol.#because the other one is under a year yet & if anybody reads these… then u know she still hast gotten a vet. since october#now im gonna have to fake being happy even tho this is an awful idea#itd be one thing if she didnt beg for my opinion & then completely ignore it. while pretending like she’s actually listening to what im say#maybe you should have found a fucking vet for the first one & actually work w it before getting another one#& ofc it is a puppy. which are terrible. ik her bf is gonna be so fed up with the two dogs#i dont want to hear it anymore i dont want her to ask me things ive tried & im done#i hope everything works out the way they want but i rlly rlly doubt that
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memorydragon · 3 months
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Okay, so I know I'm shouting to the void here and you guys probably want mdzs updates instead of my rambling about the more obscure novel that I started reading before mdzs was a blip on my radar, but I'm going mental over here and this is what you're getting.
I'm just so Normal about Jiang Ting saying "Don't test me. I'm on your side." And when I say normal, I mean completely normal levels of Absolute Unhinged.
Because he will fail the test every time.
"Don't test me." When Yan Xie questions him on why he hid the packet of drugs, of course it's suspicious. Of course he lies. (Though is it a lie, that he wanted it for himself, to hide the evidence that will lead Yan Xie further to the truth) The truth will damn him, the lies will damn him, what else can he do?
"Don't test me." When Yan Xie asks why he wasn't tortured by the drug lord when he was captured, he asks back, "Who says I wasn't?" Yan Xie's anger at the lie, at the omission he knows is there was real. But the truth will damn him more, that sensory deprivation was the gentlest form of torture, because why would a drug cartel need to be gentle with a cop?
"Don't test me." When Yan Xie drops a recorder in his pocket to listen in as Jiang Ting interrogates Li Yuxin, and lies to her about being the betrayer, and they're texting right next to each other. He can't help the small panic that Yan Xie had been listening in. Because that was a lie, but it held too much truth, that to be betrayed there had to be relationship before. He failed the test, only to see Yan Xie's final message while waiting outside the operation room, because Yan Xie was dying in the next room, and his message was "What are you afraid about? Why don't you trust I'll help you?"
"Don't test me." When Yan Xie loses his temper and does test him, when he's a little too violent because he's being blocked from investigating and tries to force Jiang Ting to the martyr's cemetery. He apologies to Jiang Ting softly, wiping the water away with a gentleness Jiang Ting doesn't believe he deserves. When his feet are burned because Yan Xie needs answers - answers that he cannot and will not give, despite everything, Yan Xie again apologizes and tends the burns. Yan Xie wasn't in the wrong suspecting him, and he's failed every test, but Yan Xie is the one who apologizes and realizes he's gone too far. Except he hadn't gone far enough to get to the truth that would have Jiang Ting fail once again.
"Don't test me." When Bu Wei jumps off the bridge and tries to take Jiang Ting with her. He sees too much of himself in her - Yan Xie sees too much of Jiang Ting in her - but he'd let her go to save himself. Except then she jumped and that wasn't how it was supposed to end, because there had to be something after the realization that the worst betrayal wasn't being left behind. When he looks at Yan Xie and tells him it's up to you. To turn Jiang Ting in or not, to believe him or not please, don't believe him he'll accept whatever Yan Xie decides he is, a traitor or friend. He cannot trust, cannot give his faith, and it's up to Yan Xie to decide if he can still accept that.
(And that's a whole different rant about how Jiang Ting cannot define himself, how he can only mold himself into what other people want him to be, say what they want him to say, because the only time he tried to choose who he wanted to be, his whole team died and he was left in a coma for three years. I'll be Unhinged about that in a perfectly normal way another day)
"I'm on your side." When Yan Xie has seen the orphanage's records, followed the evidence to it's natural conclusion, that all the times Jiang Ting had lied and omitted to save himself were finally exposed. Yan Xie has deleted the only picture of Jiang Ting on his phone and has already broken his own heart when Jiang Ting asks, "Do you still believe in me? - It's better you don't."
"I'm on your side." When he kisses Yan Xie after all the cards are on the table, as tears run down Yan Xie's face while the King of Spades watches for any flaw. He points a gun at Yan Xie's head, ready to pull the trigger that will keep Yan Xie from coming after him and tells the truth for the first time. "I love you, Yan Xie." In front of his adoptive family of drug lords, in front of the man who betrayed him and that took him in as a brother, in front of the bodies of the people he had just mercilessly shot down, as the Queen of Hearts, whose own heart is enchained by hatred and thorns caused by the drugs he can't escape, he tells the truth, which can only be accepted as a lie.
"I'm on your side." When Yan Xie finds the evidence that Chief Lu is lying, that Jiang Ting went undercover to get rid of the drug cartel once and for all and he realizes that his wavering faith in Jiang Ting was expected. That he was the one who failed that time, even though it was necessary for the King of Spades to take Jiang Ting back. That despite that, Jiang Ting had still left him a way out and saved his life. And Yan Xie is going to drag Jiang Ting home, no matter how dangerous.
"I'm on your side." When Jiang Ting asks him, "why are you here?" when Yan Xie holds him and kisses him softly after nearly dying because he was exposed, and Yan Xie replies that no matter how harsh the betrayal - the truth - he couldn't love Jiang Ting less. That just because Jiang Ting pointed a gun at his head, didn't make Yan Xie miss him less. (You want to talk about scenes that make Mem absolutely feral, this is one.) He has to go back under cover, he has to leave again, but Yan Xie will drag him back.
"Don't test me." One last test. Yan Xie tells him to jump, that they are either going to get out of this together or die together. Yan Xie refuses to let him fail this time. No matter what, he won't leave without Jiang Ting. I'll be by your side, because living is harder than dying.
And Jiang Ting jumps.
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illumiera · 7 months
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WIP Not-Wednesday
I've been low on writing energy as a result of Various Ongoing IRL Events™, but the fabulous @nocturance tagged me to do WIP Wednesday not too long ago (thank you! 💖) and I figured I might as well give my motivation a poke by sharing a little somethin' somethin':
When he glances up again, she is standing before him once more, and in her hands is— It's his staff, but at the same time, it cannot be his staff. “You need something to help you while you walk, and, well, this is yours,” Elentari starts as she offers it out to him, and Miraak is struck by the note of uncertainty in her voice, as though even she wonders at herself, at how it is that she can undo death and the workings of Daedra both. “When I—When I brought you back, your eyes weren’t the only thing I… changed. It seems I restored this, too, and your sword and your mask.” “Restored it?” His own voice is scarcely a hair above a whisper; he reaches out, and with the tip of a trembling finger, he traces the rivers of gold veining the varnished wood like a repaired crack in pottery, the gleaming scales adorning the dragon’s head and the miniature golden points of its teeth, and the glittering wildfire gemstones of its eyes. “No, it… it was never like this,” he breathes as his grip curls around it. “Whatever you did when you saved this soul of mine, Elentari, ‘restored’ is not the word I would use. ‘Blessed’, perhaps, or ‘sanctified’—” “I just—” She shakes her head. “I didn’t know what I was doing, not really; it could have been anything, and I don’t think it would have mattered to me. All I wanted in that moment was—” Her eyes, wide and silver-touched in the pale starglow, search his for an answer he cannot give to her. Nor would he, not even if he could: with an ache as keen and sharp as a pang of hunger, he wants to hear her speak it aloud, to hear her tell him that he is what she yearned for so much that it eclipsed all else. “All I wanted in that moment was for you to come back,” she finishes softly, “a-and I didn’t care what form you took as long as you were here.” His staff is still in her hands, but it slips from her grasp with the gentlest pull. Miraak clutches it for something to do with himself, all too aware that he would otherwise lurch forwards, crush her against him, and simply lose himself in the perfect flesh-and-blood realness of her. “And here I am,” he says with a tender, triumphant smile. Elentari’s shoulders rise and fall with a long, slow breath, as if she, too, must pause and usher herself away from the same ledge. “And here you are,” she confirms, and it’s like the shadow of a cloud passing overhead, the practised, precise way she drops the shutters and blinks herself back to stable ground. “You wanted to see the skies, didn’t you? Come on, then.”
there, a little bit of a Miraak and Elentari in a Predicament of Pining for you all! now, I tag some of my talented mutuals @bougainvillea-and-saltwater, @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, @shitty-drawer, @bunniletto, and @bostoniangirl21 to join in if they'd like to share anything (no pressure whatsoever)! ✨
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themainspoon · 5 months
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Occasionally I remember that one Prussian spy report on Karl Marx that says the following about him:
“His intellectual superiority exercises an irresistible power on his surroundings.
In private life he is an extremely disorderly, cynical human being, and a bad host. He leads the existence of a real bohemian intellectual. Washing, grooming and changing his linen are things he does rarely, and he likes to get drunk. Though he is often idle for days on end, he will work day and night with tireless endurance when he has a great deal of work to do. He has no fixed times for going to sleep and waking up. He often stays up all night, and then lies down fully clothed on the sofa at midday and sleeps till evening, untroubled by the comings and goings of the whole world.
His wife is the sister of the Prussian Minister von Westphalen, a cultured and charming woman, who out of love for her husband has accustomed herself to his bohemian existence, and now feels perfectly at home in this poverty. She has two daughters and one son, and all three children are truly handsome.
As husband and father, Marx, in spite of his wild and restless character, is the gentlest and mildest of men. Marx lives in one of the worst - therefore, one of the cheapest - quarters of London. He occupies two rooms. The one looking out on the street is the living room, and the bedroom is at the back. In the whole apartment there is not one dean and solid piece of furniture. Everything is broken down,tattered and torn,with a half inch of dust over everything and the greatest disorder everywhere. In the middle of the living room there is a large old-fashioned table covered with an oilcloth, and on it there lie his manuscripts, books and newspapers, as well as the children's toys, and rags and tatters of his wife's sewing basket, several cups with broken rims, knives, forks, lamps, an inkpot, tumblers, Dutch day pipes, tobacco ash- in a word, everything topsy-turvy, and all on the same table. A seller of secondhand goods would be ashamed to give away such a remarkable collection of odds and ends.
When you enter Marx's room, smoke from the coal and fumes from the tobacco make your eyes water so much that for a moment you seem to be groping about in a cavern, but gradually, as you grow accustomed to the fog, you can make out certain objects which distinguish themselves from the surrounding haze. Everything is dirty and covered with dust, so that to sit down becomes a thoroughly dangerous business. Here is a chair with only three legs, on another chair the children are playing at cooking- this chair happens to have four legs. This is the one which is offered to the visitor, but the children's cooking has not been wiped away; and if you sit down, you risk a pair of trousers. But none of these things embarrass Marx or his wife. You are received in the most friendly way and cordially offered pipes and tobacco and whatever else there may happen to be; and eventually a spirited and agreeable conversation arises to make amends for the domestic deficiencies, thus making the discomfort tolerable. Finally you grow accustomed to the company, and find it interesting and original. This is a true picture of the family life of the communist chief Marx.”
Imagine the kind of shit he could have written if he had access to Ritalin.
(I looked it up and apparently the English source of the quote is Karl Marx: Interviews and Recollections from 1981, and it was apparently translated from G. Mayer's 'Neue Beitrage zur Biographie von Karl Marx', Archiv fur die Geschichte des Sozialismus und der Arbeiter bewegung published in 1922. The only place I could find this information was in a reddit comment made by a now deleted account, Reddit isn’t exactly a reliable source, but I just wanted to know where this claim came from, and it answered that question. Answering that question is something that a lot of the sites using this quote didn’t do, a lot of them also tried to use it to pretend that all this somehow made Marx a bad person. Take all this as you will.)
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ibuprofenking · 10 months
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my sweetest downfall - chapter 2
please feel free to send me prompts for this fic!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48335212/chapters/122108227#workskin
Miorine jerks awake.
The nightmare is still fresh in her mind - snapshots - people dying, because of her. Suletta, limp and silent, floating in space -
Suletta.
She can hear soft breathing behind her and knows Suletta is still asleep before she turns to face her. Sure enough, Suletta’s face is still lax and dreaming as she lays curled on her side. Good, Miorine thinks. She’d be furious with herself if she’d interrupted the precious rest Suletta so rarely got.
And she is resting, her face unlined and lacking the subtle signs of pain Miorine can usually read there. She smiles gratefully.
It’s only been three weeks since they’ve moved into this house - three weeks since Suletta was deemed strong enough to leave the hospital. She still needs a wheelchair most of the time, but she can stand for short bursts and gains more strength every day.
Miorine feels the warm glow of pride fill her chest at the thought. To survive permet score 8, and to be recovering - Suletta breaks new ground every day.
As if she can hear Miorine thinking about her, Suletta’s eyes flicker open. Miorine can see the exhaustion still openly displayed in them.
“Mio?” Suletta murmurs. “Something wrong?”
Miorine laughs softly and reaches up to touch Suletta’s face, gently tracing the fading permet marks there. “No. Go back to sleep.”
Suletta flops onto her stomach, bringing her hand up to fold under her chin. It’s so absurdly cute that Miorine wants to bite her own hand.
“‘Kay,” Suletta whispers. “You sure?”
Her eyes are closed. She’s definitely already on her way back to the land of the dreaming.
“Yes,” Miorine whispers back. “Dummy.”
Miorine lets her sleep as long as she’s able - the sun is barely rising when Suletta, still on her stomach, begins to shift uncomfortably, eyebrows furrowing. She groans.
“Suletta?” Miorine doesn’t touch her, doesn’t know what level the pain might be at. Some days it’s a manageable ache - other days it’s like her skin is on fire, and even the gentlest of touches has her crying out in agony.
“I’m okay,” she mumbles. “Just sore.”
This is the permission Miorine needs to bury her hand in Suletta’s sleep-wild red hair. She lets her fingers travel to the nape of Suletta’s neck. The skin there feels a bit warm. She hopes it isn’t a sign that a fever is approaching - they haven’t had to deal with one on their own yet, and she fears she may not be up to the task.
“Do you want to sleep more?” As Suletta shifts again, she already knows what the answer will be.
“Can’t,” she sighs in resignation.
“I could get your medicine,” Miorine offers. The pain medication always manages to knock Suletta out, and though her pain may not be excruciating right now, the doctors had said rest was their most important tool, and Miorine is sure they wouldn’t judge.
“No,” Suletta grumbles. She flops onto her back and begins to stretch. “It gives me weird dreams. The other night I dreamt I was an octopus.”
Miorine lets out a shocked laugh. “What?”
“I was trying to hold your hand but I couldn’t because I had tentacles.” She pouts.
“Oh well, that does sound horrible,” Miorine says in mock horror, and before Suletta can object to being teased Miorine leans over and gives her a quick kiss.
Once Miorine breaks away, Suletta fixes her with a fake glare. “You can’t just kiss me to get away with being mean to me.”
“Can’t I?” Miorine kisses her again, first on her jaw, then on one of the permet marks on her cheek, then finally, her lips.
“Okay, fine, maybe you can.”
“You’re stressing me out.”
Miorine ignores the small voice and continues pacing, waiting for her car to pick her up.
From her place clipped to the bag on Miorine’s shoulder, Ericht speaks up again. “Please, stop pacing. You’re making me nauseous.”
“The car is late,” Miorine says, setting her bag on the bench behind her instead of stopping her pacing like Ericht asked. The keychain jangles softly.
“She’ll be fine,” Ericht says, because of course she knows what Miorine is really worried about.
Miorine ignores her. “First the meeting runs over, now this -“
“You prepared for this. Lilique is going to take her to her water therapy and you’ll be back in time to pick her up. And she’ll be all happy when you get there - you know how much she loves water therapy.”
All of these are indisputable facts. And yet -
“I’m calling the driver again.”
Ericht sighs as much as a keychain can sigh. “You are neurotic.”
“And you’re a keychain.”
“I resent that!”
As Ericht predicted, the car does come, and they do make it in time to pick up Suletta from her physical therapy - in fact, they’re a bit early.
And, just as Ericht predicted, Suletta is in high spirits and absolutely delighted to see them both.
“Mio! Eri!” She waves from her place in the pool where she and her physical therapist are tossing a beach ball back and forth. Ericht’s little keychain eyes flicker multicolor lights in delight. Miorine smiles softly and gives her a small wave.
Suletta always seems happiest here, where the water can take the strain off her body and she can stand without assistance, even walk a little. It’s the closest she can get to how things were before.
“Your girl is making great progress,” the physical therapist says as Miorine approaches the pool. “We’ve been at this for a half hour now - last week she couldn’t even do ten minutes.”
“That’s great,” Miorine says, and the words “my girl” bounce happily around in her head. Suletta beams.
“You should get in there with her!” Ericht says brightly, and Miorine finds herself grateful she doesn’t have a proper body with which to shove Miorine in.
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deathsbestgirl · 1 year
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other thoughts about the field where i died: the acting is incredible.
kristen cloke’s voice work?? just blows me away every time.
scully giving the exact right answer to mulder ma question, and then throwing in some humor — which is what he does.
mulder not really wanting to believe in fate, presenting to melissa as choice, trying to convince her it is real when she doesn’t believe, melissa saying the infamous “i want to believe”
melissa wanting to “end this pointless life” — “if it’s true, no life is pointless” but she goes with ephysian & ends this life.
he didn’t know this woman, but she’s someone else he couldn’t save. (but you can’t save everyone and you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved)
the implication at the end that ephysian was aware of melissa’s other personalities. her tears, her fear.
they’re too late and he finds melissa holding the picture.
i love that the entire episode scully is right there with them. during the raid, she’s ordering the men around and she notices quickly mulder is going off & not following the plan based on their intelligence. she doesn’t understand and he isn’t explaining but she follows him and then they hear melissa’s voice and stop them drinking the kool-aid.
scully stays a voice of reason for him “you didn’t even have the courage to tell skinner what you really believe” and “you’re only responsible to yourself mulder” and ‘why is ephysian a sociopath for believing he was in greece hundreds of years ago but you’re not when you believe you died in that field’ and scully is present for his regression & she goes through records to see if there’s proof, which she finds and hands over to him.
and ‘i wouldn’t change a day…except that fluke man thing’ IT’S BEAUTIFUL. scully isn’t front & center, it’s mulder centric. but she’s powerful & in control, she’s the one who finds something tangible he can cling to & use when he talks to melissa.
(and the way she tries to stop him putting melissa through the pain of a regression. she wasn’t sure melissa’s multiple personalities was real, but she acted as though it was. scully was so gentle with her, as melissa & lily and it fucking kills me every time. dana scully is one of the kindest, gentlest & most compassionate characters. as is her partner, and that’s one of the reasons their partnership works.)
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proxylynn · 4 months
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MY WISH WAS ALWAYS YOURS (part #6 second half)
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{Content warning: Sex scene.}
[So tumblr has a word limit that I wasn't aware of so...Yeah, one final chapter broken into three parts. Hope you all like it. ^_^]
Lynsie slumps forward and rests her head in her hands. Gimini sees this and decides now is the time to see if he can get a better insight into Jack from her perspective. So he flutters over to her side. Jack sees this but pays it no mind. Not like he cares or anything.
“How are you feeling?”
She glances down at him.
“I am fine. My body is sore and my pride is dented. But fine overall.”
“Are you sure?”
“This was nothing. I have dealt with far worse than this.”
“Worse than being buried under rubble?!”
She eyes the cricket funny.
“Your concern is...cute. But let me be blunt. My head has taken a lot of hits and I am not in a small-talk mood. So say your peace now or say nothing at all.”
Fair enough.
“Can you tell me why you work for someone like Jack?”
Now that got some attention. Lynsie lifts her head, eyeing Gimini with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Jack, on the other hand, just observes the conversation with mild interest.
“Why do you ask?”
“I'm just curious. I can't help but wonder why any of you would stick around with someone like him. He doesn't seem like the most compassionate or considerate boss.”
Gimini explains, trying to choose his words carefully. Lynsie looks over at Jack who just shrugs, so she takes this as a sign it's okay to speak.
“I know not the reason of the others. Likely money. Or pride. Or respect. Or the very generous benefits package, that's something everyone likes. But for me...”
She pauses for a bit, sorting her thoughts and choosing what to say.
“I would not be here if not for Master Jack.”
Gimini tilts his head.
“W-What do you mean?”
She looks at Jack again.
“Permission to speak about this, Master Jack?”
Jack waves her off.
“It's your story. You tell it as you want.”
She sighs and sits up more professionally, crossing her legs in thoughtful repose.
“Very well. Master Jack and I met when were kids. I come from what you would call a "dysfunctional" home life...”
Jack snorts a laugh.
“That's putting it lightly.”
“It was not good. What with the starving, the beatings, and the ever-present berating of my mother instilling in me that somehow it was all my fault because I was a bad child and therefore deserved it.”
If bugs could pale Gimini would be ghostly white.
“But then I met him and he opened my eyes to the wild idea that, maybe, I didn't have to take the abuse. Then, after another fun beating lesson from my dear mother, I concluded that he was right. So, yeah, I got the hell out of there.”
Seeing the look on the cricket's face makes her smirk.
“You look a bit disturbed. Did things get a bit too real for you? Because that is the gentlest way I could have said that.”
Jack snickers.
“Look at you, getting all feisty. It's adorable.”
“Hey, he asked and I answered. I could go into more descriptive graphic detail about how she would...”
“N-No! No need for that. I think I get the picture, thank you.”
Jack laughs heartily at Gimini's discomfort, but Lynsie isn't phased.
“Good. Long story short, I had nothing and was nothing. And I would have remained nothing and likely be nothing had it not been for that fateful encounter so long ago. So...In thanks for giving me a life to live, I live my life for him. Simple as that.”
Gimini is silent for a moment, taking in Lynsie's story. It's a harsh reality, and he can't help but feel a mix of sympathy and discomfort.
“Do you ever regret it? Working for Jack, I mean.”
Gimini asks cautiously.
“Never.”
“But why stick around? Why not leave and forge your own path?”
“His path is my own and his goals are mine. I owe him my life, literally and figuratively.”
“Even if doing so costs your life?”
“If that is what it takes, then so be it.”
Jack, who's been listening, gives a half-smile at such words as it fills him with pride. But for Gimini, such selfless devotion is frightening. To give up one's life for someone who seems to hold it with no value? It's insane! No one in their right mind would do such a thing. Not unless they were...Could it be?
“Do you like being with him?”
“With Master Jack? I think that would be obvious.”
“Yeah, I doubt she'd feel the need to work for me if she didn't. Be rather stupid of her if she did.”
Gimini isn't satisfied with that answer and boldly pushes a bit further.
“Let me rephrase that. What I meant to say was, do you like him as a person?”
The air in the tank suddenly carries a coldness to it.
“And where pray tell are you leading with this line of questioning?”
Even her voice is less warm sounding.
“Well, you two seem...closer than just employer and employee. And, um, he seems to treat you...differently.”
Her attention goes to Jack.
“I'm sorry, but what is the reason for the bug again?”
Jack rubs the bridge of his nose.
“I opened the wrong bottle and now it says it's my conscience.”
“A conscience? As in the internalized voice of morality? Why is it trying to dig into personal matters that have nothing to do with right or wrong?”
Jack groans, clearly annoyed by the turn of the conversation.
“I don't know. It seems to like insinuating things. Just ignore it.”
“Ah, I see. Less of a conscience and more like the voice that overthinks and makes connections out of nothing. Understood.”
She gets up from her seat.
“If I may be excused, I shall see if the others are making progress.”
Jack gives her a nod and she moves for the door. But instead of letting that be the end of things, much like a nagging thought you've forgotten that suddenly springs to the forefront of your mind, Gimini speaks up.
“You care for him, don't you?”
Lynsie stops in her tracks, her hand on the handle, back turned to Jack and Gimini. The air in the tank grows heavy with tension. Her shoulders tense up ever so slightly and there's a flicker of something in her eyes, a momentary vulnerability. Jack raises an eyebrow, shifting in his seat both curious about her answer and not eager to delve into personal matters at all. And after an awkwardly long pause, the kind that only implies more the longer there's silence, she responds.
“I care...as much as I am allowed to care. We are associates. Nothing more or less. Anything more is irrelevant.”
Her expression is unreadable and her voice, which even when threatening holds a warm sweetness to it, is also void of any feeling. But with that said, she opens the door and steps out, leaving Jack alone with the cricket. Jack sighs, glancing at Gimini with a mix of annoyance and bemusement.
“Jack, what did she mean by that?”
Jack slouches back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. Gimini hovers nearby, uncertain whether to press further or to let the matter rest. The tank continues its bumpy journey, and Jack finally breaks the silence.
“It means she knows not to push things. Unlike you.”
Gimini merely looks at him funny.
“Did something happen between the both of you?”
Jack grips his seat, attempting to restrain himself.
“I'm not talking about this.”
“You know it might help you feel better if you...”
Jack's temper flares and he cuts Gimini off, yet he manages to keep his voice low to not raise attention outside. It honestly makes him sound more intimidating.
“Will you knock it off?! There is nothing between us. I do not care about her. She's not my woman. I don't have feelings for her. So what if I slept with her? It meant absolutely nothing! Get off my back!”
That outburst is more than Gimini was expecting to hear and he backs off due to Jack's seething. Seeing the bug cowering lets Jack know he's made his point, even if he did overshare more than he meant to, and there won't be any more talk on the subject. So he takes a few deep breaths to calm down and sighs into his normal repose.
“I feel like I got awful vulnerable with you. Heh. I outta kill you so you don't tell anyone.”
Gimini gulps till Jack chuckles.
“I'm just messing with you.”
There's a wave of relief that hits Gimini before it is immediately dashed.
“But, no seriously, I will kill you.”
“I-I-If I talk, right?”
Jack glares.
“Look, bug, I'm going to make this clear for you. She and I have an understanding. There's a status quo and I'm in charge of it. Things don't change unless I give the okay. And I am comfortable with how things are.”
“A-A-Are you though?”
He hovers a bit closer.
“B-Because it seems you took things to a new level but still want them to remain the same. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”
“No. It was a one-time thing. I just needed to get it out of my system is all.”
“Now, Jack, you shouldn't lie to yourself. Feelings like that don't just go away. Especially after you, um...Do THAT with someone.”
“What? People can fuck and not have feelings.”
“Please don't use that word. And...I suppose that's true. But you're not the type to just let anyone be near you. So you must feel...”
“Before you finish that, do keep in mind, you are within my reach.”
Gimini pauses at the threat as Jack flexes his hand into a crushing fist to emphasize his point.
“Uh...A great deal of trust for her?”
Jack's eyes narrow.
“You sound like my father. Always insinuating there's something more and trying to push me into being with her. Well, it ain't happening!”
“Are you worried she won't reciprocate?”
At that, Jack laughs.
“Knowing her, she'd go along with it.”
“Then...Why not explore the opportunity? She could make you happy.”
Jack scoffs.
“She can't make me happy. She can only help me to be happy. Only my wish will make me truly happy. I don't need her to be more than my associate. I've got a life to live, things to do, and no time for unnecessary complications. Attachment is a weakness. It clouds judgment and gets in the way. I don't need that. She understands that. Always has.”
Gimini looks at Jack, studying his expression. There's a mixture of frustration, defiance, and maybe a hint of something deeper that Jack himself may not fully understand.
“Have you asked her if she's fine with it?”
Jack glares at Gimini, annoyed by the line of questioning.
“I don't need to. She knows her place, and she's content with it.”
Gimini hovers wearily closer.
“Does she? Or is that just what you want to believe? Maybe she's hiding her true feelings to spare you the discomfort.”
Jack's eyes narrow, and he leans in, speaking in a low, threatening tone.
“Listen, bug. You're treading on dangerous ground and prying into places you don't belong.”
Gimini's tiny wings buzz nervously and he drops the big cut in hopes it makes Jack open up.
“Maybe you're scared of letting someone in, of being vulnerable. And maybe, just maybe, she is playing along because she's afraid too. Afraid of losing whatever connection she has with you.”
Jack glares at Gimini and if looks could kill then the cricket would be dead a million times over. Gimini realizes that pushing Jack further might not end well for him.
“Alright! I'll zip my lip for now. But you shouldn't close yourself off, Jack. Life is short, and you might regret not taking a chance on something so rare. Denying your feelings won't make them disappear. And you might find that the walls you've built around yourself will only bring more loneliness in the end.”
Gimini backs off and Jack grumbles, his irritation apparent by his gritting teeth.
“Just shut up and let me think.”
As Jack retreats into his thoughts to brood in silence, Gimini hovers in the corner, contemplating the complex web of emotions that seems to entangle the fearsome Jack Horner. The tank continues its journey, leaving behind the chaotic scene and heading towards new challenges, now with Lynsie back on her feet, albeit a bit shaken after that weird conversation. Gimini can't help but feel a mix of fascination and concern for the dynamics at play within this peculiar group. He can't help but wonder about the true nature of their relationship and the emotions that Jack seems reluctant to acknowledge. Jack, the ruthless leader, with an unexpected level of care for one of his own, even if it's hidden beneath layers of gruffness. What a strange thing.
————————————————–
The clouds rumbled with impending rain poured down in a steady rhythm. Elizabeth peered out from the small window, looking around at the surroundings before shutting the covers. The decision to move on to another town weighed heavily on her mind. She knew it was time to leave, but the departure was bittersweet. She glanced over at her husband, who was securing a horse to the wagon for the journey ahead.
Jonathan noticed the concern on her face and came over to her when done, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She sighed, casting a glance at Jack curled up and sleeping in unaware bliss.
“He's not going to like this.”
“I know. But it's best we do it this way.”
“He's going to be so upset though.”
“He'll be fine, Liz. He's a tough boy.”
He brings a hand to her cheek.
“And he's got the most compassionate mother in the world that can make him feel better no matter what.”
She gives her husband a soft gentle smile as she holds his hand, nuzzling it.
“Bless you, dear.”
He simply smiles.
“Any time, Sweet-Tart.”
He kisses her on her forehead and resumes helping her in the final preparations, making sure everything is secured for the journey.
Once fully packed up, the wagon's wheels creak to life as they roll over the uneven ground. Jonathan drives the horses, Elizabeth navigates, and Jack remains blissfully unaware of the departure. The weather turned from just rumbling clouds into quick and steady rain, turning the dirt road into mud.
As the wagon trundled along, Jonathan stole glances at his wife, who sat lost in thought. He understood her concern for Jack and shared it to some extent. The boy had grown attached to Lynsie, and the idea of leaving her behind was unsettling. However, practicality demanded they move on.
After a while, Elizabeth broke the silence.
“We'll need to find a way to explain it to him gently.”
Jonathan nodded, his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and worry.
“We'll figure it out.”
The rain continued to pour, masking the tears that welled up in Elizabeth's eyes.
“I just can't help but worry about what will happen to her when we're gone.”
He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“I know, Liz. But we can't take on the responsibility of another child. It's tough enough as it is, and we can't risk jeopardizing our own family's well-being.”
She nodded, understanding the practicality of his words.
“We did what we could for her, Liz. That's more than anyone else did. And maybe that'll be enough to make a change.”
She nodded, but the worry still lingered in her eyes. They continued their journey, the wagon's wheels cutting through the mud, leaving a trail of displaced rainwater behind.
As they leave the town behind, Lynsie wanders out into the field, watching the back end of the slowly disappearing into the distance wagon with sadness and regret. If only she had just been a little faster.
Back in the wagon, Jack stirred from his slumber, groggily rubbing his eyes. He looked around, realizing that something was different. The rhythmic sound of rain on the roof and the gentle rocking of the wagon were familiar, but there was an underlying tension in the air. He sat up, noticing the pensive expressions on his parents' faces.
“What's going on?”
Jonathan exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, the weight of the situation evident in their eyes. Jack furrowed his brow, a sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. His parents rarely adopted such serious looks, and it made him uneasy. Then, when the sleep wore off, it hits the boy and hits hard.
“We've left the town?! Why didn't you wake me?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to find the right words as she got up and knelt to her son's level.
“Sweetiepie...You know how our business is made by moving around. Please understand we...”
It dawns on him.
“You left her behind?!”
Jack's shouts, his initial shock gave way to a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
“Sweetie, it's...It's not as simple as that.”
Jack's frustration bubbled up, his temper flaring.
“What do you mean it's not simple? We abandoned her! I think that's pretty darn simple to understand.”
“Jack, we didn't abandon her. She wasn't ours to take. We did what we could to help her. But our responsibility is to you and ourselves. We couldn't bring her with us.”
“But she is ours! She is mine! She's the only good thing I've got! I need her!”
A mix of anger and sadness welled up in Jack's chest. He clenched his fists, struggling to process their reasoning. Elizabeth hugged Jack tightly, offering him some comfort. To the Horner's credit, they had up till this point spared their boy the knowledge of loss and what it's like to lose something important. Maybe that's why he couldn't understand and his feelings about it came across like he's misplaced a favorite toy rather than a friend.
“I know it hurts, sweetie. But sometimes life does this. For as big as we are, sometimes we can't control everything that happens in our lives. Sometimes we have to make tough choices that don't feel good. But that doesn't mean we don't care.”
She pulls back and holds his chubby little face.
“Change is never easy, and leaving someone behind is even harder. Yet not all change is bad. We changed things for her, didn't we? We gave her food and treated her wounds. We showed her some people won't treat her badly. Maybe that will be enough to give her the strength to leave that bad place. And who knows, maybe our paths will cross again someday. But for now, we need to keep moving forward and always cherish the time we spent together.”
Tears welled up in Jack's eyes as he grappled with the conflicting emotions of loss, frustration, and a sense of powerlessness.
“B-But...That's not fair, mama. I...She...”
“I know, sweetheart. Sometimes, we have to let go and just hope for the best. Have you ever heard the saying "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be."?”
Jack shakes his head, sniffling a little.
“It means to trust and have faith in the other person. It's about how it's okay to surrender something beloved in the hopes that fate will intervene and bring it back—if it's truly meant to be yours. And you feel Lynsie is yours, right?”
He nods.
“And do you believe if she can, she'd find a way to back to you again?”
He nods again, knowing if she stuck around him at his worst then she would likely seek him out if able.
“Then be strong. Be strong for her and yourself. Mama promises her sweet little man that one day you'll have everything you ever wanted. Can you be strong till that day comes?”
Jack sniffles hard as he fights himself, torn between his own wants and the reality his parents presented. The storm outside mirrored the storm within him. He resisted and fought against the decision, but eventually, he nodded in reluctant acceptance. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him once more in a comforting embrace. Jack clung to his mother, his heart heavy with a sense of loss and something unknown. The rain falls in a steady cadence, a backdrop to the understanding that life, like the weather, is unpredictable and ever-changing. And so the wagon continued onward, leaving behind not just the small town but a chapter of their lives that had become unexpectedly intertwined with a little girl named Lynsie.
————————————————–
The tank presses on into the transformed terrain, chasing after the elusive bears and their ill-gotten gains.
As the sun continues to dip lower to paint the land in pinks and oranges, the tank moves through the transformed landscape, determined to catch up to retrieve the stolen map. With Lynsie back with the group it returns to the way things were before. She helps to scout out the new split in the canyon and finds, sadly, that the gap between the lands is most certainly not vehicle-friendly. Either there's too much space or the elevation is all messed up, because there's no way a tank can make an upward jump from nothing or at all. It's a tank after all. The best they discover is a gap that's nearly twenty feet wide but the ground is perfectly leveled with the split part. There's no time to chip away at thick stone pillars to make a bridge or carve up a makeshift ramp to catch some helpful air distance. So this requires a third option. Or to be more accurate, a third opinion.
With a heavy reluctance...Lynsie has one of the bakers get Jack, as she's not about to go back in there and get pulled into some other random talk with that awkward bug. Jack comes out of the tank, not happy about the lack of progress.
“What's the holdup?”
Lynsie, for all her infinite wisdom, keeps her mouth shut and just motions to the gap, pantomiming how falling would be guaranteed death. Jack gives it a look, then looks at his magic bag full of items that could be useful or not, and then looks over at the group before doing that three more times.
“Okay...Here's what we're going to do.”
He points to eight of the remaining bakers.
“You're a strong bunch, right? You trust each other, right?”
They slowly nod, wondering where he's going with this.
“Good. Now stack up on each other's shoulders in a two-by-four formation.”
What Jack is proposing they do registers with Lynsie first and when she palms her face that's the key to the rest of them understanding. Jack wants them to make a human bridge. And with an idea like this, they usually wouldn't go along with it. But they can't object to Jack's plan for two reasons. The first reason is, that they're likely going to abandon the tank and continue on foot the rest of the way, so this would make sense to get everyone across. And the second reason, the important one that held the most weight, they know for a fact that if Jack issues the order then Lynsie would be sicked on them till they obeyed. And given how only eight are needed to make this thing that means Jack finds one of them expendable. So, yeah, they do as told because none of them want to be the one that is replaceable in this plan's equation.
The rows end up as on one side there is Sir Thomas, Crustina, Butter Scott, and Terror-misu. Then on the other being Rhu-Barb, Cinnaman, Stevia, and Ben Yay. This leaves Nutmegan on the sidelines. Before they stretch themselves across, a dark blur zooms past them and Lynsie takes a great leap over to the other side, tucking into a roll as she lands. From the other end, she stands by and catches them as they extend while falling toward her on the other side. It isn't long till there is a bridge of human bodies suspended over this vertigo-inducing ravine holding onto each other by the ankles and facing the death drop below.
During this, Jack gets his bag and pulls out the crystal ball, using it to see where exactly the map is currently. In the swirling display, Jack sees a large cozy cabin snuggled in a snowy pine forest with smoke coming from the chimney, and in the distance, overlooking the scene, is Kitty and Pussy. This makes things very convenient for Jack. Now he's got a few options. So, as payback for bugging him with all his annoying pointless analyzing, Jack opts to mentally break this morally highly righteous insect.
“What do you think, bug? Do I wait for the cats to steal the map and then kill them, or do I just kill everybody all at once?”
Jack asks while making his way over and Gimini, bless his tiny heart, is appalled but still tries to steer things in a less homicidal direction.
“Y-Y-You know, I'm starting to think you don't appreciate the value of a life.”
Knowing the bait has been taken, Jack exaggerates with a hint of playful sarcasm.
“What? No. I mean, I love these guys.”
Jack motions to the poor bakers he's currently walking upon, his heels digging into them due to his immense weight so much that they groan and yell in pain as he strides.
“Flex the glutes. I need a solid surface.”
Now, Gimini's dealt with some tough cases in his days. But Jack? Jack is on a whole other level. He's on a level Gimini didn't know even existed. It's honestly wearing on his poor little bug soul.
“There's good in all people...There's good in all people...”
Yet, he's not a quitter. He psychs himself up and presses on.
“You know, Jack, maybe we need to dig a little deeper. T-T-Tell me about your childhood.”
Jack rolls his eyes as reaches the other side and sighs. No way in hell is he saying anything about his youth. Lynsie comes up to him and gestures that she's ready for his next order. Noting how she's refusing the speak while around the bug, he takes a page out of her playbook from earlier and gives this "there's always good in the world" cricket a harsh wake-up call with some creative exposition. Jack hands her the bag as she eyes him curiously. She knows Jack is not one to talk about his past, so this is bound to be something peculiar yet interesting.
“Uh...You know, I never had much as a kid. Just loving parents and stability and a mansion and a thriving baked goods enterprise for me to inherit. Useless crap like that.”
Gimini face palms at Jack's admittance, finding it unbelievable how someone so privileged could be so blind to how good life's been to them. Lynsie, however, fights the urge to smirk at Jack hamming it up. Sure, she knows that's all true, but she also knows that's just the good parts. That's the past of "Big" Jack Horner, the man of wealth and glory. Not "Little" Jack Horner, the boy who struggled and was ignored.
“But once I get my wish, I'll finally have the one thing that will make me happy.”
Now while he's still playing this up, Jack genuinely beams at the thought of his wish. It's such an innocent and adorable expression on his face. Lynsie can't help but admire it and stamp the sight in her mind to last forever. The pureness of this moment is enough to reignite hope in Gimini. Finally! Something he can work with to better understand Jack so he can help guide him on the path of the straight and narrow.
“Oh, well, what's that?”
Jack holds up the crystal ball and has it show what his wish is. In the swirl of magic is the image of Jack, massive like a god, standing atop the world as he laughs maniacally, magic being sucked into his body and causing the world to crumble under his feet.
“All of the magic in the world. For me. And no one else gets any. Is that so much?”
Gimini is about to lose it.
“Yes!”
And Jack could care less.
“Agree to disagree. All right, bring it over.”
It's at this point the bakers who make up this human bridge realize that the tank is not being left behind and Jack wants it for the rest of the journey. But since they can't exactly do anything physically, literally as if they move they will die and if that tank moves on them they'll die, so all they really can do is shout in protest to this awful and careless choice being made.
Oh...But if only they knew.
Yes, Jack couldn't care less if any of them survived this mission so long as he got what he wanted in the end. Yes, he's going to hate having to file the paperwork and scout out for new hires once this is all over. Yes, he knows this is an asinine thing to do which might only make him have to work harder to accomplish his goal. But! When it comes to mentally screwing with someone's head and breaking their spirits...There are no lengths he won't go to just to prove a point and watch as they are utterly devastated.
So Nutmega begrudgingly boards the tanks and takes hold of the reins. She could risk fleeing or even going for the canon, any attempt to take control of the situation. Yet there's too much that can go wrong and she is smart enough to not bet against the odds when they're stacked against her...plus magic, that too. With that, she snaps the reins and the unicorns trot forward. Surprisingly, the bakers can support the weight of four fully-grown unicorns. Unsurprisingly, the bakers can not support the weight of four fully-grown unicorns and a massive battle tank at the same time. The second the tank's weight is added they plummet, each baker yanking the other down. The unicorns make it across before it's too late, their harness latch snapping off and letting them run free...for about ten feet as Lynsie snags the rein straps and yanks them to a halt. As she does that, Jack and Gimini gaze over the edge watching as everything hits the bottom in about four seconds. The tank combusts. All the bakers are dead. Well...Maybe not all.
“Help!”
Clinging desperately to some rocks below is Nutmegan. The clever girl had leaped from the tank just as the fall began, a smart move on her part. Only now her fate is in Jack's hands. ...She's so doomed.
“Sweet Mother of Goose, Jack!”
The level of disturb that Gimini is experiencing is almost as much as Jack is amused by the situation.
“Well, you know what they say. Can't bake a pie without losing a dozen men.”
Jack chuckles at his own joke and it finally happens. Gimini breaks.
“Oh. Oh! That was horrible. Your wish is horrible. YOU'RE HORRIBLE! You're an irredeemable monster!”
Gimini snaps at Jack. But Jack just mocks him more.
“Oh! Oh! What took you so long, idiot?”
With all amusement gained from this and his tolerance for the bug now spent, Jack harshly flicks Gimini off his shoulder with enough force that part of its elytra and a leg come off, his yell can be heard fading into the distance as he falls into the chasm. Jack brushes off his shoulder and groans, relieved to be rid of that annoying pest at long last. Now his attention falls to the woman hanging for dear life.
“You're not chatty, are you?”
Nutmegan continues her smart move streak by shutting up and shaking her head. He looks over at Lynsie.
“You got this for me, right?”
She gives a thumbs up and he grins.
“Good girl.”
He takes the bag from her and chucks the orb inside after giving it one more looking at it for good measure. She pulls the unicorns back over to the edge and lowers the reins down for Nutmegan, letting her secure herself before having the steeds pull her up.
“Well. Looks like it's just us.”
Jack remarks.
“Seems so.”
Lynsie speaks up.
“Oh, look who has her voice back. Thought you went mute on me.”
“Like I was going to speak around that thing. I'm just surprised you didn't swat it sooner.”
He just shrugs.
“Thought it would be interesting. Turns out...No. No, it wasn't. The damn thing just bugged me. Asking me stupid questions and trying to get inside my head, like it's qualified to do that. And I'm just like...You don't get to come in and throw your two cents in like you know anything. You don't know squat!”
She shakes her head.
“Some people.”
“I know, right? So rude.”
Nutmegan takes a moment to process her near-death experience and watches the callous casualness going on in front of her. Her colleagues are dead. Her friends are dead. She nearly met the same terrible fate along with them. And yet, here's her boss with his shadow just talking like nothing out of the ordinary just went down. The risks were known. The disregard was known. But still! This was when it clicked for her just how dangerous working for this man was. Because at any moment, Jack can deem her as not useful anymore, and in an instant, it's over. And the scary part...no one will ever know what happened.
“Hey...”
Her thoughts are broken by Lynsie who comes to her with a unicorn.
“Are you still able to continue?”
She takes a second but can't respond.
“I understand your hesitation. A lot has happened. But do not dwell on the lives lost. We all knew the risks and we still ventured into this place. Do the fallen right and see this through. Let them not die in vain. Prove that you and the others were able to enter this death trap land...and brought it to its knees.”
The inspirational pep-talk wasn't something she was expecting to get, but boy, was it something she was glad to have gotten. With a renewed spirit, she accepts the reins for the unicorn and Lynsie gives a subtle nod before returning to Jack, helping him climb atop his own steed with the bag on his lap. With only the three of them and with Jack's permission, Lynsie sets one of the unicorns free, it gallops off as she mounts the remaining one.
“Alright, ladies. We have a map to get!”
With a hard kick to his unicorn, Jack takes off and the women are quick to follow into the forest of pine trees. For the most part, this section of the way seems as normal as the start was. The land is calm. Unassuming. The setting sun creates a warm scene as the orange and red tones prelude to the coming dark of night. A sudden rumbling sound can be heard and a bright glow goes off, indicating the map is in play. They diverge from the path and beeline for this. But as they get closer the rumbling happens again. The forest landscape violently conforms, the strength and speed of the transformation being too much for the unicorns. The steeds can't take any more of this, getting too spooked and fighting back against the commands of their riders. Nutmegan gets bucked off. Lynsie dismounts her steed when she sees Jack's unicorn threaten to flip to be rid of him, rushing to his aid and holding the beast from barreling long enough for him to get off unharmed while she gets a nasty bite from the legendary equine. The unicorns flee as the land starts lurching upward and forming a peak. This new mountaintop then splits, the two separate peaks rapidly moving apart.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
Jack exclaimed. As if to rub salt in this moment, huge spars of crystal shoot up from the earth on the other side. Boulders stack up magically, forming a canopy of thick stone high enough to be seen from where they are. Jack's right eye twitches, his frustration getting the better of him, and he runs off toward the peak.
“Jack?!”
Lynsie grabs the bag and chases after him in concern. Nutmegan follows in hot pursuit, though she's surprised by the speeds Jack is capable of.
“Jack! Stop! It's too dangerous!”
But he doesn't heed Lynsie's words, running higher and higher up the peak till he reaches the top. A deep fissure separates the two stretches of land, so many pine trees are set on the rocky surfaces from low to high. There is also a bridge made from a big dead tree that connects the two but it lies further down. On the other side, there is a massive crystal cave, the last known location of the map. If he can get just over there...
“Jack!”
Lynsie and Nutmegan catch up to him.
“What are you thinking? You can't just run off like that.”
He points at the cave.
“The map's in there. We need to get across.”
She examines the scene, noticing the fallen tree bridge is the only means of passage without going all the way down to the bottom and walking the long way around, but also seeing that Goldi and the Bears are on it. And building something...Is that a family of bears making a bear trap?
“Don't even think it.”
He interrupts her thoughts.
“We don't have time to get down there. We need to cross this.”
Nutmegan is filled with dread at this, not wanting to relive the horror of what only happened a short while ago. Shockingly, she doesn't have to voice her objection to this idea.
“How? It's just us, and not even I can make a jump that far.”
Jack narrows his eyes at Lynsie.
“Don't give me excuses. I don't care how it's done. All you have to worry about is getting me over there.”
She huffs a sigh and opens the magic bag, attempting to see if he has anything that could be useful. But he snatches it away from her.
“I didn't give you permission.”
“With all due respect, it's not like I have other options available.”
She snatches the bag back from him and he gets livid.
“You forget your place, "Little" Lynn.”
He yanks it back but she doesn't let go.
“I know my place, Master Jack. I am to do anything and everything to get you your wish. That includes using what's available.”
She pulls the bag her way and he refuses to let it move another inch.
This is a sight Nutmegan never thought possible. Most at the factory knew Jack for snapping at Lynsie and she'd just take it. Yet none believed she'd ever stand her ground against him. Of course, this insubordination is not taken well by him and he leers at her harshly.
“Let go of the bag. Now.”
“Let me do what I have to.”
Her tone is stern and he gets in her face. Not wanting things to escalate, Nutmegan tries to be the voice of reason.
“Um, maybe we can—”
“No one asked you!”
They both snap at her.
“I don't need your input. This is between me and this moron.”
Taken aback and losing her patience, Lynsie's cool falters.
“Excuse you?”
“You heard me. You've been off your game this entire time. You messed up at the factory. You messed up at the canyon. And now you're screwing up here. If I don't get that wish, it's all your fault!”
Her eyes flare with a mix of anger and hurt.
“You...You...”
He smirks, reveling in the reaction he provoked. Her grip on the bag tightens, internally struggling like she might snap. She wants to defend herself, to push back against his unfair accusations.
“You best be careful with what you say next. I'd hate to be disappointed in you.”
She flinches, her eyes widening as he plays on her fear of upsetting him and her internalized need to please. Her hand trembles and she lets the bag go, as he knew she would.
“Why...Why must you make this so hard?”
She mutters and he smirks down at her, enjoying the feeling of asserting dominance. He pats her on the head condescendingly but she slaps his hand away much to his shock. He recoils slightly, not expecting her to lash out. Nutmegan watches the exchange, unsure of what will happen next.
“What do you think you're doing?”
He questions and she digs her heels into her stone stance.
“You once told me not to take crap from others when they're the ones at fault. I never thought I'd have to call you out like this. But here we are.”
His eyes narrow.
“You're stepping out of line.”
“And you're being a jackass!”
Nutmegan gasps at this, sensing that she's witnessing a rare moment between the usually composed Lynsie and the brash Jack.
“Are you seriously going to fault me for stuff out of my control? I did everything I could at the factory and was about to get the map. Then a cat knocks me out a damn window and I get trampled on by bears! At the canyon, I was going great before getting ganged up on and my face repeatedly smashed before, oh yeah, being buried under freaking boulders! And now you're being a big baby who is refusing to share his toys, yet somehow, that's on me?! Bullshit!”
His face contorts with a mix of rage and frustration as his temper flares, he grabs her, pinning her down on the ground with just one hand. Nutmegan watches, frozen in shock, as the power dynamic between them takes a dark turn.
“The hell has gotten into you to think you can bark at ME?! You ingrate, you're nothing without me! If it weren't for me, you'd just be another skeleton in the heel of that god-forsaken shoe!”
She winces at the force of his grip as he tightens his hold, but she refuses to back down, glaring back defiantly. Nutmegan, unsure of what to do, hesitates for a moment before taking a step forward.
“Hey, uh, I know things are stressful and all, but don't you think—”
“Stay out of this!”
He glares at Nutmegan, tightening his grip on Lynsie.
“I'm the one in charge here. I'm the one with the wish on the line.”
“Why do you think I'm ticked off? I'm trying to get it for you!”
Lynsie retorts, her frustration boiling over.
“I do everything and anything for you. I'm always there when you're in need. I respect you and defend your honor. I give you my blood, sweat, and tears. I give you my very life. But do you even get why?”
“Because you owe me.”
She scoffs at him.
“If that's the only reason that you can think of, then I see you're utterly hopeless.”
He leans in, his face inches from hers.
“Quit being cryptic and just say your damn point already. I don't have time for your nonsense.”
“You want my point? Fine! I'm sick of holding back anyway.”
She grabs hold of his coat and yanks him so their foreheads touch.
“You're an arrogant, selfish, cruel, self-centered jerk who can drive me nuts with how demanding you can get. Your expectations are for perfection and nothing less. Any normal person would take one look at you and get as far away as possible. But I'm not normal. And I can't keep pretending I don't care.”
That throws him off his rhythm.
“What?”
She sighs, her frustration fading as she flusters while continuing.
“I've tried. Lord knows I've tried. But I can't. Not anymore. Not with all that's happened.”
His eyes go from narrow to wide as recent events come to his mind, things he doesn't want to be said aloud.
“Don't you dare say another word.”
He threatens in a whisper and she rolls her eyes.
“Okay. I won't say another word.”
In a bold move, she closes the gap between their faces and presses her lips to his. The action catches him completely off guard, his eyes nearly springing out in shock. Nutmegan's jaw drops in surprise at the unexpected turn of events. That and now she can collect the gold from the betting pool that was going on back home.
For a moment, time seems to stand still. Jack remains frozen, unsure of how to react as his mind races to process this. While Lynsie, despite the pain and frustration, finds a strange sense of release in the impulsive act. Her hands release his coat, moving to cup his face gently as she deepens the kiss. The kiss is brief but intense. It's a kiss mixed with frustration, passion, and something unspoken that has lingered beneath the surface. When she pulls away, she looks into his eyes, her expression softening. His expression is a complex blend of confusion, irritation, and something else that he can't quite put into words. Lynsie breaks the silence, her voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability.
“I don't expect you to understand or reciprocate. I just want you to know. Despite everything, I care about you. Probably more than I should. And I don't regret it.”
Jack scowls, attempting to regain some semblance of his usual bravado.
“You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“I know. I'm a fool for attaining feelings for you. I mean, it's not like you'd even bother with someone like me even if you did care. I'm a broken mess with more issues than books in a library. But I've said my peace. I await the volley of reprimands that will chastise me to Hell and back for being a dumbass.”
He takes a deep breath and he exhales slowly, frustration mixed with a touch of fluster on his face. He's not used to people expressing care for him, especially not Lynsie, at least not to this degree. He has his reasons for keeping people at a distance, but she is different, and he hates that she gets to him like this.
So, feeling constrained and wanting to settle this with some semblance of his pride intact, he pulls a reversal to get his dominance back. He crashes his lips onto hers, cutting off any further prattle that could get on his nerves. It's a rough, almost aggressive kiss, filled with the intensity of suppressed emotions and a need to show her who's boss even if he doesn't honestly care what a lone baker thinks as this witness this. Lynsie, taken by surprise, hesitates for a moment before responding. The tension, the frustration, the unspoken feelings – it all pours into the kiss. Her arms encircle his neck and both of his hands grip her waist, their tumultuous kiss escalating for different reasons.
Nutmegan, caught in the midst of their unexpected intimacy, feels like an intruder witnessing a private moment. She looks away, giving them some semblance of privacy.
“Well, uh, I'll just...be over here.”
She awkwardly edges away, leaving Jack and Lynsie in their own little world. As she walks away, she can't help but wonder how this unexpected turn will impact the dynamics of their group. Jack Horner, the ruthless leader, showing a passionate side? Hell must have frozen over. It's a revelation that shakes the foundation of the image she had of him. For both of them really.
After what feels like an eternity, Jack pulls away, leaving Lynsie dazed and slightly breathless. He looks at her with an intensity that makes her heart race. The air is palpable and charged with energy.
“Jack...”
Lynsie starts, her voice barely a whisper, but he silences her with a finger on her lips. His expression shifts back to the familiar gruffness as if trying to regain control of the situation.
“You talk too much.”
His hands wander to pick her up and he moves them both over to some trees where he starts to undo her pants. This has her looking up at him confused.
“What are you doing?”
“You're a damn fool.”
He pulls her pants down around her ankles, turns her around, and then pushes her face against the tree trunk.
“But you're MY damn fool. And I'm going to make sure you know that.”
She can hear his clothing rustle and the sound of a buckle unclasping.
“You think you're not worthy of me? Who told you that? Because I sure as hell never said that.”
Jack scoffs.
“You're the only one who I can stand to be around. You're the only one who's willing to put up with my shit. And you're the only one I'd do this with.”
Jack's manhood springs free once his pants, already hard and pulsing with need. He gets behind her, his hips pressing against her backside. Flustered about this being done out in the open, she looks back at him.
“Here? Now?”
“No talking.”
He forces her to look away.
“You've said enough. Now you listen.”
He moves her legs apart and gets into position at her entrance.
“Can't believe you worked me up to this point. Spouting off like some emotional twit. If anything is your fault, it's this.”
He grabs onto her hips, holding onto her as pushes forward slowly, feeling her tight walls clenching like a vice around him as he fills her and she death grips the tree while biting her tongue, whimpering at the invasion, his size is likely something she'll never get used to.
“Fuuuuuccckkk...I forgot how tight you are...”
He bites his lip to maintain composure while they adjust. Giving a few moments of pause before moving. His pace is slow at first, gradually picking up speed as he begins to thrust into her rhythmically.
“Do you know why you're a damn fool? Because you think I'm so blind that I didn't know any of that.”
His massive member stretches her walls as he pumps into her relentlessly. Using her to vent his frustrations, both verbally and physically.
“Did you really think I didn't notice? You're at my side nearly 24/7! When you're not with me, I keep tabs on you. And trust me, I've seen some things. You're not as discrete as you think when by yourself.”
Her face gets redder with embarrassment at the implications and just how often he'd spy on her. Or maybe it's because of the overwhelming nature of his scolding her while asserting himself over her.
“Do you honestly think I don't know what you do for me? That I don't appreciate it? Do you know why I expect perfection from you? It's because I know you can do it. I know you're capable enough to handle anything I throw at you, it's why I trust you with so much.”
Her eyes widened in surprise at his words, not expecting him to be so honest, but she could chalk it up to the heat of the moment. His thick member throbs inside her, the waves of impending buildup are starting to kick in. He picks up the pace, driving into her harder and faster until they're both lost in a haze of sensations. Yet somehow, his mind stayed on track for just a bit longer.
“You're the only one who's ever liked me for who I am. You don't want to change me. You don't want to tie me down. To make me a better person or whatever other bull crap. You accept me as is. Always have...”
“And always will.”
She finishes his words in a groan and it only serves to boost his efforts more, his ego being significantly stroked. He grunts and thrusts up into her with renewed intensity, feeling the pressure building within him as he draws even closer to climax. He grips her waist tightly, holding onto her as if she were his lifeline, and leans down to put his face in her neck.
“That's why you're mine. You hear me? You've always been mine and will always be mine. That means you can't leave me. No matter what. You belong to me. Say it!”
“I'm yours, Jack.”
He lifts her hips a bit and bucks into her harshly at a deeper angle.
“And?”
“I won't leave you!”
She calls out as his girth slams into her over and over again, hitting every sensitive spot within her depths, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her entire body.
“And?!”
“I'm sorry!!”
Her moans, which she tried to suppress, become more desperate and her breathing becomes intensely ragged, succumbing to the overwhelming sensations. Her response pleases him greatly.
“Good girl.”
He finds a spot along her neck where her choker doesn't cover and sinks his teeth in, causing her to let out a loud cry of pleasure that echoes across the land...Something that disturbs all those who hear it.
With each stroke, he pushes them both closer to the brink of release, feeling the tension building between them until it threatens to break loose. She feels her orgasm hitting her, her eyes roll back in her head and she lets out a series of loud moans mixed with utterances of his name. As she reaches her climax, he can feel her walls contracting around him, squeezing him tightly as wave after wave of ecstasy courses through her.
He keeps pounding into her, driven by the sight of her pleasure and the knowledge that she belongs to him. He grunts and groans loudly, feeling his own orgasm about to hit. He pulls out of her slightly before slamming back into her again and again, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge. Finally, he can hold back no longer and release washes over him like an out-of-control flood.
For a moment, there is only the overwhelming sensations numbing their systems, and then slowly, they begin to regain some semblance of coherence. He can see the afterglow of their shared pleasure etched across her face, and he feels a sense of satisfaction as he takes in the sight.
“That's...so much better...”
He mutters, his tone softer than usual. He tugs his cravat tie off and wipes his sweaty brow, pulling out of her lazily.
“There. I hope that clears things up for you.”
She nods meekly while catching her breath.
“Y-Yeah...Crystal...Clear...”
He takes a moment to clean himself with the tie and secures his pants, watching her struggle to compose herself after what he did. It gets to him.
“I don't know what the hell you see in me.”
“Huh?”
She didn't quite hear him, her mind elsewhere in thought, yet he didn't repeat himself. He uses the tie to wipe the mess from between her legs, a surprisingly nice gesture considering his harshness moments ago.
“You know I'm not good at this sort of thing. Empathy isn't in me. And I sure as hell don't know how to deal with whatever this thing we got going on. But...”
There's a pause as if he is struggling to articulate his thoughts, grappling with words he's not used to saying. She looks up at him, her eyes searching for any sign of sincerity as he pulls her pants back up and discards the tie.
“I don't know. It's just...complicated.”
He, for a moment, looks open, his guard lowered. This would be something most would jump at the bit to take advantage of. But not her. She, taking a chance once the feeling returns to her legs, turns to him and does something she hasn't done since she was seven years old. She hugs him and he is confused.
“There is no need to overthink it. As I said, I don't expect you to reciprocate and I won't make you. I merely wanted to get that off my chest. It's been eating at me for some time now. And going to you with personal stuff like that is...well...It's awkward.”
“Good call. Can't blame you there.”
He pets her head though a bit awkwardly, only slightly uncomfortable with her embracing him.
“So...Does this mean things have to change?”
She shakes her head.
“No. Nothing has to be different between us. Not unless you want it to be. I am fine with whatever you choose, so long as I remain at your side.”
A smirk comes to play on his lips.
“Then we're good.”
She gives him a smile.
“So does this mean we are more than associates? Maybe, dare I say that we are...Friends?”
He gives a gruff sigh.
“Don't push your luck, woman.”
She pouts and he rolls his eyes.
“But...I won't deny I may see you as something more. Something annoyingly persistent, yet in an okay way. So, I'm willing to upgrade us to companions...with benefits.”
She snickers.
“Works for me.”
“Alright! Now that THAT is settled, let's get moving. We've got a map to retrieve.”
He looks around.
“Where did that survivor go?”
“Nutmegan?”
“That's their name?! That's hilarious.”
From behind a tree, the baker in question hesitantly steps out from her hiding spot. And if her face is anything to go by, she's feeling incredibly awkward.
“Ah, there you are. Don't run off like that or we'll leave you behind. Or do. It doesn't matter really.”
She rubs her arm embarrassingly.
“Um...So...Is everything okay?”
The pair just look at each other and then at her, as if they have no clue what she's talking about.
“Yeah.”
“Why do you ask?”
She adverts her gaze.
“N-Never mind.”
Jack rolls his eyes and looks down, noticing Lynsie is still embracing him. He clears his throat and it takes her a moment to register what he means, she lets go of him.
“My apologies, Master Jack.”
He waves her off.
“Yeah yeah. Fewer apologies and more map getting.”
“Of course. May I search the bag for something helpful?”
“Fine. But leave the snacks alone. I'm saving those.”
She gives a nod and leaves him to go over to the bag. Jack stands tall with his arms behind his back, merely watching in repose and reverting to his usual tough demeanor. Nutmegan is just glad things appear to have returned to normal. The amount of trauma she's been subjected to in a short time is insane. So if they just had to work something out and it gets them in a less murdery mood then that's good.
“No one will find your body.”
Nutmegan nearly snaps her neck turning it to look up at Jack.
“M-Mr. Horner?”
He smirks to himself, amused with instilling turmoil with such ease.
“You know? If word of what you may or may not have heard ever spread.”
Realizing what he's implying makes her go on the defense, panicking in her attempt to assure him.
“H-Heard?! Heard what, sir? I didn't hear a thing! Did you hear something? Maybe it was birds! Heh heh...”
“Good. Because you know what they say. Snitches get...”
“Stitches?”
“Buried alive in a coffin full of lye so that they're fully aware they're being slowly dissolved.”
His tone is low and menacing. Her spine trembles as the image of her going through such a demise flashes in her mind.
“Do I make myself clear?”
He glares hard and she gulps.
“Y-Yes, sir.”
The malice in his face vanishes into a calm smile.
“Good. I'm glad we could have this chat.”
He steps away to join Lynsie who is slumped over in the bag.
“Anything?”
He asks as she digs deeper into the bag, pulling out a familiar umbrella.
“Think this can carry three people?”
He shrugs.
“Only one way to find out.”
He takes the umbrella from her and scoops her up with the bag, holding her to his chest awkwardly, her rear seated in his palm. Seeing them getting ready to do something, Nutmegan bolts over to them just as he opens the umbrella and the pair leave the ground, barely managing to clasp his coat as they start to go over the gap. The umbrella seems to be stable enough to support their weight without folding, but it's certainly not as fast or able to gain any more height from when they took off. As they move across the gap, Nutmegan looks down, witnessing the sight on the log below. Goldi and the Bears are caught in their own trap, with Baby Bear seeming to be screaming about bees.
Reaching the other peak, the umbrella's canopy breaks free from the shaft, dropping them just shy of the edge as the canopy flies around hazardously before impaling onto some crystal. Ignoring that they could've just as easily fallen to their death, or fallen and survived but be horribly injured, they continue moving. The great mass of crystal appears to have no entrance. Luckily it isn't blocking the way too much, there's still enough normal land to proceed upon, though the random spires of shimmering rock do make traversing a bit of a chore as they work their way from the mountainous top to the bottom.
By the time they reach the peak's base, the sun is now set and night has fallen over the land. The Dark Forest now living up to its name. The vibrant magical environment they've been wandering through is no more. The pine trees on the mountain they've descended fade into a forest of long-dead burned trees. The rich soil that so much life has sprung forth from is now blackened scorched earth. A weak smoky fog blankets the ground, obscuring footprints and paths. But this isn't a problem for them. Not when Jack has the crystal ball to help guide them. Tiny purple flowers increasing in bountifulness the deeper they go is a good sign that they're getting closer and in the right direction.
A trepidatious feeling is in the air. The anticipation as this feels like the home stretch of this arduous adventure and the end is in sight. Yet an anxiousness as well for this might be the end and anything can happen. Very little thought is given as to what will happen upon the goal being met. All focus is on the now. Got to get the map. The map is the key. The key to the wish. And it's a wish that's all for Jack.
Suddenly, after venturing through the dreariness for a while, there's a rumble that rocks the ground and a towering beam of silver light appears above the tree line, shimmering with ethereal power. It could only be the Wishing Star. With the location now painfully obvious for all to see, Jack casts away the crystal ball. It shatters like simple weak glass with the last image on it being Puss in Boots holding the map on the Star.
“Oh ho ho! What a good boy am I.”
Jack grins and takes the bag from Lynsie, the victory so close he can almost taste it. And given how close they are to the light, it's oh so close. A thrill hits Lynsie as they trek, her only regret being she has no weapon, having lost the axe back when they lost the tank. Oh well. If she has to go berserk and brawl like a beast, then so be it. Nutmegan gets her thoughts together. She's been through so much. But she can't let that bother her now. The mission is about to reach its climax. It's all or nothing. Now or never. Winner takes all.
As they approach the star-shaped crater, a voice is heard calling out in desperation.
“Kitty, Death is after me!”
Puss exclaims much the confusion of Kitty and Perrito. But they don't get to question what Puss means.
“I've been called a lot of things...”
Jack jumps down onto the star, holding his magic nanny bag. Lynsie and Nutmegan landing from their jump on either side of him.
“But never "Death". I like it.”
He reaches into the bag and pulls out a wizard's staff, pointing at the animals ready to blast.
“That's MY wish.”
“Oi!”
Attention is drawn to Mama Bear as she leaps upon the star.
“That's Goldi's wish!”
Goldilocks vaults onto the star, followed by Baby and Papa Bear. They're all here, standing on the five points of the Wishing Star with the map at the center: the world's greatest fairy tale thieves, converging at last on the ultimate enchanted prize, the legendary LAST WISH.
It's a moment of unbearable suspense as the star slowly continues to levitate itself upwards. Eyes darting back and forth, watching everyone for the slightest move. Tensely inching at the ready to strike. The second the frightened Puss grips the map tighter, all hell breaks loose.
Everyone charges toward the center for Puss. Goldi launches herself at Puss, swinging her staff. The timid tabby just barely escapes the concussive blow. Baby Bear paw swipes at Kitty who leaps to avoid his claws. Mama and Papa block Puss in, away from Kitty.
“Grab it!”
Shouts Papa Bear as Mama Bear swipes at Puss, only Nutmegan comes diving in with her two oversized pizza cutter buzz saws, messing everything up as Puss gets dog-piled...the map escaping his paws to flutter across the surface of the star.
“Move! Outta my way!”
Jack orders while running from around the mound of bodies. Baby Bear rushes around them and chases the map.
“I've got it! I've got it!”
Lynsie swoops in as Baby swipes it, only for Perrito to trip Baby before he can grab the map, resulting in them crashing while the map remains aloft.
“Don't got it!”
Goldi comes back for the steal, snagging the map on her staff, but Puss leaps on her and steals it away from her.
“That's mine!”
Jack, having none of that after everything he's gone through, blasts at Puss and is just inches from hitting the cat. But the blast is enough to make Puss drop the map just as the star breaches the crater it formed long ago. The magic of the star emanating from under it, the force pushing it up from the ground, comes up to frame the very star's edges in a wall of unbound magic, its magic getting stronger enough to have a gravitation pull that draws things toward it.
The map lands close by but Kitty grabs it before Jack can get it. This doesn't deter Jack, who aims with his staff like it's a musket, shooting bolts of rapid-fire magic at her with childish delight.
“Bang, bang, bang!”
Kitty somersaults, dodging the indiscriminate fire as only a highly trained cat can. Unfortunately, this is when Nutmegan sees a chance to go after Kitty, thinking it would be highly unlikely for the nimble cat to dodge both projectile and melee assaults. And, given the run of luck the bakers have when it comes to attacking when Jack does, you can see where this is going. Jack accidentally blasts Nutmegan when she stops in her tracks to slice at Kitty, knocking her to the star's edge.
“Oh, come on! You walked into that one.”
While true, it no less doesn't help the situation. Nutmegan tumbles across the surface of the star, drawn in by the magic like an unwilling moth to roaring flame. In desperation, she plunges her blades into the star in the hopes of stopping herself. But her momentum and the pull force of the magic is too strong to stop in a short distance. Her lower half enters the magic and begins to distort, unraveling her being as she's pulled in more.
“Mister Horner, I need your help!”
She pleads for her life. But Jack has his hands full, continuing to fire blasts while dodging Mama Bear.
“Duly noted, but a little busy at the moment. Pew! Pew!”
Him having way too much fun in this serious moment does little to ease her or anyone's mind. Panic kicks in as her body is pulled up with the flow of magic and her blades lose their grip. She pleads once more but to another.
“Lynn! Please!”
Lynsie, in mid-grapple with Papa Bear, casts a knowing glance to her compatriot that all but screams her fate. They knew the risks. Hell, it was made a point that was driven in over and over. This was likely a journey that meant their deaths. So when Lynsie stayed on the bear, she knew this was the end.
“Mister Horner!”
Nutmegan flails helplessly as she's engulfed in the magic, dissolving into a swarm of sparks completely obliterated, her weapons being all that remains of her and they fall with a sickeningly sad clang. Her death is witnessed and adds a new level of danger to this already messed up predicament. The cosmic wall of magic around the star isn't just for show, it's to prevent anyone from escaping when the wish is being made.
Puss, already fearful, is temporarily frozen when Nutmegan's weapons land near him. His mortality creeps on him like a stalking phantom. It's during this that Lynsie starts to lose her footing against Papa Bear who is able to chuck the woman skyward before gunning for Puss, swatting the cat towards the star's edge. Puss almost doesn't get his bearings straight in time to stab his dagger into the star, his smaller size helping in stopping his potential demise to the wall of cosmic magic. Lynsie comes crashing down painfully on her back, her roar of anguish is ungodly and she writhes in agony.
Kitty, still holding the map, attempts to rescue Puss while still being upset at him. Yet Goldi comes in for the grab, missing, and falls over. Kitty runs up along Goldi's staff, likely aiming to leap off to cover more ground, but she doesn't get far once Mama Bear shoulder tackles her in midair and she loses the map to her. Mama Bear, being distracted by getting the map, doesn't notice Jack has her in his sights.
“Ha-ah! It's bear season!”
Jack points his staff at her, lining up a charged shot. Only Baby Bear lunges in to defend his mother, knocking Jack back and onto the ground, startling him. Baby Bear stands over him and taunts.
“Oi! I'm gonna bust you up, plum-thumb! And then I'm going to wear your clothes!”
Jack is both confused and annoyed by this. But he also sees it as something that is easily dealt with.
“That was weird.”
He nonchalantly blasts Baby Bear, lifting him off his feet as he's sent flying across the star, a sight that has him laughing while the animal shouts in surprise. Baby Bear lands near the edge and is caught in the magnetic tug of star magic. This causes him to freak out for obvious “don't want to die” reasons.
“No, no, no! No, no, no, no!”
His frantic panic doesn't go unnoticed by his mother.
“Baby!”
“Mama, help!”
Mama Bear drops the map, rushing to her son as he starts being pulled up into the magic's flow, taking his paw in hers, but not even her weight is enough to bring her boy down and she too is pulled off the ground.
“Papa!”
“Son! I'm coming!”
Heading his family's needs, Papa Bear bounds over and grabs Mama Bear by the ankle before she can get out of reach.
“I got you!”
It's no good though. The entire bear family is being drawn into danger, linked like a daisy chain. Papa has a strong grip on his wife and is keeping them down, but Mama's grip on Baby is only with one paw...and it's slipping.
Meanwhile, with Lynsie and Puss somewhat out of action and Jack taking shots at Kitty, Goldilocks stands before the map. This is the opportunity she's been waiting a lifetime for. She reaches for it.
“Something's happening! Help me!”
She looks over her shoulder. Across the star, she sees the bears are in peril. She sees her family in need. The magic trying to do to Baby what it did to poor Nutmegan.
“Hang on, son!”
“I can't stop it!”
“Mama I'm slipping!”
Baby's paw slips free from Mama's grasp.
“I'm slippinnnggg...!”
Things look grim as Baby is taken by the magic. Warping, distorting, about to be pulled fully into the magic wall, when all of a sudden...Goldi comes to the rescue, snaring Baby Bear's chain with her staff and pulling him from the magic much to the surprise of the bears. Given how she had revealed her wish was for a proper human family, they didn't think she would come to their aid when the wish was in her hands.
“Like I told you, Baby. You're the smash, I'm the grab.”
Baby is overjoyed.
“Yes! Yes!”
With a strong yank from Goldi as Papa Bear pulls the group back, they all collapse in a big furry heap. Relief comes to them as they've avoided a monumental tragedy and they recover from the exhausting experience. But it is short-lived. Since Goldi had abandoned the map, presumably her wish as well, in her rush to save her adoptive brother, Kitty made a break for it but was stopped by Lynsie who recovered enough to return to the fray. With her distracting the pesky pussycat, Jack is able to grab it. Puss sees this but is too far away to stop him and is still struggling to get out of the wall's pull range.
“No!”
Puss shouts and Jack savors this moment. The map is his. It's in his hands. No one can take this from him. He gives an all too pleased chuckle that drowns out the clash behind him. Determined Kitty isn't about to let Jack have his way and she's also quick to pick up on how Lynsie isn't in the best shape. Compared to when they last fought, the woman's movements are slower and less precise, likely due to the exertion or injuries sustained the entire trip. This made it a bit easier for Kitty to outmaneuver and land a blow to her face, making her reel back with a sharp snarl as her nose threatened to break again.
“Why in the face? Why does everything keep hitting me in the face?!”
But Kitty doesn't stop there. She makes a spectacular leap and, while he's not paying attention, kicks Jack HARD in his pump cherub cheeks. He staggers back, arms flailing enough to lose his wizard staff and the map. This is the last straw that breaks his enjoyment of the event. Now he's mad and will take it out on this felonious feline. He gets to his magic bag and pulls out the bandolier belt of the Evil Queen's poison apples.
“Hey, Softpaws! How do you like THESE apples?!”
He bites the stem pin off and chucks the apple grenades at Kitty. She expertly dodges them, avoiding explosions and billowing toxic clouds of wicked magic.
“Die! Blow up already!!”
Jack keeps tossing apples. Finally, Kitty makes an amazing cocky mid-air catch, snatching the last apple grenade in her paw.
“Soft paws~.”
She teases and Jack can't roll his eyes hard enough as he groans at her arrogance. He's always hated this cocky cat and this just makes it worse. She throws the apple back at Jack. It explodes! Jack, amazingly for someone of his size, is tossed back by the bombardment. But his weight grants him the luck of only being moved a couple of feet as he falls on his rump. Shaken, but near his bag, Jack seems to speak with great solemnity...as he scoots closer to his magical arsenal.
“Okay, okay, you know, maybe it's time to bury...”
His hand slips into the bag and he grabs the first weapon that he can get his mitts on. Coincidentally, it fits in with what he was going to say.
“The HATCHET!”
Jack whips out an axe, which is hatchet size compared to one as large as he, out of his bag. But before he can use it, Kitty delivers a swift two-legged jump kick to his jaw that sends him tumbling backward into the bag's endless depths.
“Oh, I shouldn't have telegraphed it...!”
Kitty is about to shut the bag with her foot when Lynsie comes up behind her and savagely delivers a double hammer fist strike to the back of her head.
“You insignificant cur!”
She steps on Kitty's head and starts applying pressure, making the cat start to yowl.
“You dare stand in his way?! You're just a miserable bump in the road for better souls to run over on their way to get what's rightfully theirs. A bump I will take great pleasure in smoothing out...painfully!”
She growls, pressing harder and Kitty screams.
“Not so cocky now, are you? Now you fear me. You finally see I'm a threat. And you? You're just a pitiful stray. You have nothing. You are nothing. And all you'll ever be is a messy smear under my...!”
Her words are cut off with a harsh cry. Puss had finally managed to get out of the wall's draw range and taken advantage of Lynsie's focus on Kitty, leaping onto her back then sinking his claws in. The pain in her damaged back has her thrashing erratically to get him off. Perrito runs to Kitty, checking if she's okay, which apart from a bloody nose and a really bad headache she is. Lynsie scrambles, reaching as best she can behind herself to grab Puss but he keeps moving around and digging his claws in more. Eventually, she snags his cape, yanking it up as she lets herself fall back, not letting Puss avoid being slammed under her. She's quick to roll off and, still clutching his cape, gets in his dazed face. Luck finally shines on Puss though, as Kitty continues to do what she does best, kicking Lynsie in the back and knocking Puss free as she stumbles. A stumble that would normally be easy to recover from if it hadn't been for Kitty shoving her towards Perrito who just so happened to nudge the bag in her direction, causing her to topple into the unfathomable abyss. This time, the bag is shut tight.
[Inside the magic bag.]
In the darkened void, Lynsie plummets into the darkness, various random items pass by as they float in the nothingness. A sense of weightlessness and disorientation adds to the falling feeling. There is no up. There is no down. There is left. There is no right. All there is is openness. Openness and darkness.
“Damn it!”
Her senses snap into alert at the sound of his voice. The falling ceases and converts to levitation.
“Jack?”
Hearing her voice in the vastness gets his attention.
“Oh, come on! You're in here too? How did that happen?”
She listens, carefully following his voice and moving around the menagerie of collectibles.
“You know that thing when you get a bit too lost in being threatening?”
“You got distracted monologuing? Wow, that's lame.”
“I'm sorry, but is the pot trying to call the kettle black for doing something similar?”
He groans and resumes looking through the items around him.
“You're lucky I don't have time to waste on your sass. Now get over here and help me.”
She finds him in his rummaging, getting to his side.
“What's the plan, Jack?”
“What do you think? We need to get out of here before they make a wish.”
“I figure that. I mean, what item specifically?”
He moves a few things and finds the small "Drink Me" bottle.
“The magic snacks. If anything is going to be enough to force this bag open, it'll be that. And if this thing is here, then it's gotta be close by. So get looking!”
She nods and moves past him, scouring the miscellaneous commodities for what he needs.
[Outside on the star.]
The map slowly floats back down on celestial winds. Perrito jumps into the air and catches it. He slides to a stop in front of Puss and puts the map down.
“Yeah, I don't know what to do with this. But if you think you need those lives...”
Perrito nudges the map with his muzzle and Puss gently takes it.
“Thank you, Perrito.”
But the would-be therapy dog isn't done with the cat quite yet.
“You know, I've only ever had one life. But sharing it with you and Kitty has made it pretty special. Maybe one life is enough.”
That resonates with Puss. He looks over his shoulder to Kitty, seeing the hurt still on her face as she knows he's just once more choosing his legend over her. But, before he can come up with a decent response, a WHISTLE rises from nowhere and from everywhere in a hauntingly eerie echo. A whistle Puss knows well by now. The thing is, he's for once not the only one able to hear it. Goldi hears it. The bears hear it. Kitty hears it. And as the dread causes Puss to tense, he turns around and sees...HIM.
A large silvery-white, bipedal wolf with an elongated snout appears behind the enchanted wall of cosmic magic. But this fella is no ordinary being. It walks through the energy with no trouble and makes itself known. The dark gray fur around his eyes and on top of his muzzle highlight the bright blood red of its eyes as they sit in a black void-like sclera. Donned in a black riding cloak, its forearms wrapped in bindings, and brown trousers that are wrapped at his ankles, it holds out at its sides a pair of razor-sharp sickles. This is Death. And I don't mean it metaphorically or rhetorically or poetically or theoretically or in any other fancy way. This is Death, straight up.
“Who's that?”
Perrito asks Puss, to which he answers.
“He's here for me.”
Death skims his sickles across the star's surface, creating sparks before slicing the blades upward and summoning crimson flames that encircle Puss. Isolating him. Kitty's eyes widen and she rushes over to catch Perrito as the fire knocks him away.
“Puss!”
She calls out in worry as Death stalks to the center of the area with Puss, savoring the moment. It's one on one time and Puss has nowhere left to run or hide.
“I've enjoyed the chase, gato, but I think we've reached the end now, you and I.”
Death clashes its blades together, the sound ringing out across the star and its eyes flash like a lightning strike. Fear makes Puss's heart race and he looks at the map, the wish incantation appearing to him like a free escape he can take. Death notices.
“You gonna take the coward's way out? Run away to more lives? Or are you gonna fight?!”
Death taunts Puss and tosses something that lands at the cat's feet...His sword. The one he lost when Death first appeared to challenge him who knows how long ago now.
“Pick it up.”
Death says while clashing his blades again. Puss looks down at the rapier and then incantation on the map, considering.
“Go on. Pick it up!”
Now it's more like a demand. Death wants Puss to try to fight. To make this game more fun. For Death knows mortals better than anyone. No one can ever truly beat Death, but those who try to make things all the more interesting. Sadly, most don't try. They run. They don't go into that sweet goodnight with honor. And when it comes to this tabby who “laughs in the face of Death”, nothing would be more delicious than to put Puss in his place. No one disrespects Death. No one.
Once again, the sound of Puss's heartbeat deafens as his life begins to flash before his eyes. But, unlike when this first happened where he saw moments from all of his previous lives, now he only sees scenes from his current present life, happy and impactful moments with Kitty and Dog.
He sees the day he was found as a kitten. He sees the day his adoptive mother gave him his boots. He sees his meeting Perrito at Mama Luna's. He sees reuniting with Kitty at Jack Horner's trophy room and getting kicked in the face. He sees the cuteness battle he had with Kitty that made Perrito so excited. He sees the three of them smelling the posies. He sees the tender moment of Kitty caressing his face after he asked for her to cut off his beard. He sees the comforting moment when Perrito helped him calm down from his panic attack at the canyon. And he sees more moments of him reconnecting with Kitty after believing they could never be together again after the whole thing with Santa Coloma.
It's all of this that finally sets Puss straight. His racing heart settles as tears well in his now fresh eyes.
“What's the matter? Lives flashing before your eyes?”
Death taunts.
“No. Just one.”
Puss's face and voice carry a new resolve.
“I'm done running.”
Puss drops the map and kicks up his sword into his paw, accepting the challenge, he faces down Death knowing he has no lives to spare but no longer in fear because of it.
“Fear me, if you dare.”
The legendary Puss in Boots is reborn! Death takes this in and chuckles, amused by the cat's boldness.
“This is going to be fun.”
With that, Death and Puss run at each other, both leaping into the air for a mid-air clash. They land and Death is unphased, but Puss is a little frazzled though he recovers quickly. It's honestly an awe-inspiring clash. Their silhouettes appear like they're dancing, and in a sense they are. A beautiful dance of fast-paced footwork and rhythmic timing to the song of ringing steel. After a series of furious exchanges, Puss manages to counter a blow and climb up Death's arm enough do to Death what Kitty did to Jack. A two-legged kick to Death's jaw knocks the wolf back. Most would be mad for being dealt such a blow. But not Death. No...Death is pleased. Because now it knows it has a real fight on its hands. And that means it doesn't have to hold back anymore.
“Bien. Muy bien.” (Good. Very good.)
Death connects his sickles end to end into one menacing two-headed scythe. It gives off a Grim Reaper vibe as it spins the weapon adroitly and then attacks. This new turn in the tide of the battle throws Puss, the fear of doubt creeping in and it's enough for Death to take the upper hand. With a swipe, Death shreds Puss's cape. With another, it slices into one of Puss's boots. With another, it casts off Puss's hat. And with a blunt bash with the staff of the scythe, Puss is knocked back, sending Puss's sword flying. After all those blows, Puss is rendered helpless. Death literally cutting the legend apart.
“Tsk, tsk. You really gotta stop losing that.”
Kitty and Dog look on from outside, alarmed, as Death seeks to end this fight on a high note. For whom does Death toll the bell? It tolls for Puss! With a flourish, Death swings the scythe intending to decapitate the cat. However...At the last second, Puss pulls out Kitty's dagger and blocks a savage blow. Surprising Death as he rides the strike's momentum to be reunited with his hat before ducking another hit, slipping under Death, and sprinting to his sword with all the swagger he's known for.
“Say hello to my gatito blade.”
Death is stunned for a second and Kitty is thrilled. Renewed determination fuels Puss, he goes on the offensive and charges Death with both blades, shockingly putting the entity on the defensive. Death sees an opportunity to strike but Puss avoids the blow, lands on the scythe, and cuts the shaft in half before leaping off. Death is starting to get baffled. How is this possible? Sensing this in his opponent, Puss rushes Death and Death has just enough time to grab the now separate sickles to block the lunge Puss is doing. Holding the sword's blade in that of the sickles, Death launches Puss skyward. Puss uses this to ready his signature windmill spin and Death sees this coming. Puss tried this on Death when they first met and it ended with Death nearly killing the cat. So the reaper isn't worried here. They can read this move and have a counter all set. But...Something else happens. Where normal this move has Puss spin into his sword and leaving him open, he spins into a kick that bypasses Death counter. Puss's boot heels land full force squarely in Death's face. The impact smacks the wolf away, tumbling over as the sickles clatter onto the star's surface, one landing by the battered beast.
In a brave and respectful move, Puss kicks the other sickle over so that Death has its weapons back.
“Pick it up.”
Mirroring their encounters, Puss uses Death's words, and the wolf is taken aback by this cat.
“I know I can never defeat you, lobo. But I will never stop fighting for this life.”
Death rumbles a growl. Something isn't right here. Taking up its weapons, Death steps slowly toward Puss, staring down this tabby as he points his sword at literal DEATH. Instead of attack, the wolf lunges its face down to Puss's level, snarling as they're eye to eye. A deep penetrating stare-off happens for a moment as Death reads Puss's soul, the anger in the wolf's eyes is apparent. Teeth bared, snarling worsens, and it all boils over in a rage fit as the wolf turns around to hit the star.
“Grrr...¿Por qué diablos fui a jugar con mi comida?” (Why the hell did I play with my food?)
Death shouts in frustration much to Puss's confusion
“Arggggghh! You're ruining this for me.”
The wolf instantly is back in Puss's face, startling the stabby tabby.
“I came here for an arrogant little legend who thought he was immortal.”
Puss just meets Death's gaze. No doubt about it, this is a changed gato. No longer the kind to be so frivolous with his life. And with a reluctant sigh, Death relents.
“But I don't see him anymore.”
Relief hits Puss and a breath escapes him that he hadn't realized he was holding. Death spins his sickles like a gunslinger, holsters them, and turns away.
“Live your life, Puss in Boots. Live it well.”
Death begins to walk away but gives one last pause to look back at the cat that redeemed himself.
“You know we will meet again, right?”
Puss gives a subtle nod.
“Sí. Hasta la muerte.” (Yes. Until death.)
Satisfied, Death whistles their tune while stepping through the crimson flames and vanishes. As the fire ebbs, Perrito runs up to Puss and Kitty follows.
“You know, when you said Death was after you, I thought you were being melodramatic.”
Puss smiles, taking a moment to retrieve the map before offering it to her.
“The wish is yours. You deserve someone you can trust.”
She, for a moment, reaches for it but then pulls away much to Puss's surprise.
“I don't need it. I've got what I've wished for. No magic required.”
It's a touching scene. A sweet and peaceful resolution to a chaotic escapade. Or so it seemed.
[Back in the magic bag.]
Lynsie sifts through the endless collection of items, her hands brushing against a variety of magical and mundane objects. Jack continues his search on his end, muttering to himself about the inconvenience of the situation. After what feels like an eternity, she spots a delicate-looking cake-like cookie with a label that says "Eat Me". She grabs it and moves back to him.
“Found it.”
He turns around to her and she puts it in his hand. A malevolent grin comes to him.
“Good. Now, let's get out of here. I've got a wish to make, and I won't let those fairy tale rejects take it from me.”
Without hesitation he chomps into the sweet treat loudly, deliberately chewing in a rush to devour the entire thing. Once he's eaten it, he gives a resounding belch that had enough force that the bag opens itself. The cookie's wrapper lofts out of the bag.
“Ah...Magic snacks.”
He sighs with satisfaction and she, knowing the story the treat comes from, clings to his coat at the shoulder.
It happens so fast.
The magic affects Jack and he grows rapidly. With a delightful chuckle, he reaches towards the opening, his gargantuan hand coming out with his signature purple thumb up as if mocking all around the bag and it plants firmly on the star. Using it as leverage as his other hand pulls on the opening, he pushes himself free, rising from the now tiny bag like a wicked genie from a lamp.
“Holy frijoles.”
Puss is gobsmacked, Kitty gasps, and Perrito whimpers nervously. Goldi and the Bears get back on their feet, not sure what they can do but they move out of the way as best they can without being pulled into the wall. Standing tall like a fabled giant atop a beanstalk. Jack kicks the bag off his shoe and sends it flying over the wall of cosmic magic. And there now gripping his coat's collar, Lynsie stabilizes herself and sits on his shoulder much like a parrot to a pirate.
“I was worried for a second I'd come out naked, but my clothes grew too! Cool.”
Jack leans down and stretches out one massive hand, snatching the map with ease. Puss and Kitty are holding by the edges.
“Thank you.”
Jack flicks the map and sends the cats hurtling for the wall of magical death. However, Papa Bear grabs them before they can enter the wall.
“Gotcha!”
The group huddles together as an overwhelming force exerts itself from the star now that Jack has the map. The map is tiny in his massive hands, it's like the size of a playing card compared to him. But that doesn't matter so long as he can hold it and read it.
“The LAST WISH. It's mine!”
Jack chuckles as the star begins to power up, cosmic magic swirling around him as the incantation sparkles to life on the map.
“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.”
The more of the incantation Jack reads, the more magic is drawn from the star to him. It's a sight that kind of dumps salt in the tense wound that was made when DEATH showed up. Because if Jack gets his way and makes his wish come true, no good will come of it. This is something Perrito recognizes must be stopped. So the tiny dog runs up to the massive magic-hording megalomaniac much to the shock of the group. But...it does inspire them.
“I wish I may, I wish I might; have this wish...”
“Señor Horner!”
“What?”
Jack lowers the map, distracted, confused to see the dog he was going to shoot in the face hours ago now gazing up at him for his attention.
“Please don't make that wish. Please?”
Jack glances at Lynsie who is just as weirded out about this as he is. When that doesn't work, Perrito kicks his plan into overdrive...Beg harder and be cute! So the poor pup strains himself to do as Puss and Kitty can.
“Pleeease?”
One of the dog's eyes is twitching, getting bigger in a rather disturbing way and it only makes things weirder.
“Wh-What are you doing?”
“Oh god, what's wrong with it?”
Perrito strains even harder, his face contorting.
“Plee-ease...?”
“I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Seriously, are you having a hernia or something?”
Perrito, with all its freaky little doggy might, strains his heart out.
“Pretty...Pleee-eeeeease!!!!”
Suddenly, the dog's face isn't a vomit-inducing nightmare. It looks up and is the cutest thing ever. He did it, he landed the feline cuteness trick. His eyes are big, dewy, and absolutely adorable. This is an attack on the senses none of them were prepared for and Jack seems profoundly moved as Lynsie awes.
“They're such pools of vulnerability.”
Perrito adds to this by making little begging whimpers and widening his eyes more.
“It's so cute...How you think that would work on me! Don't you know I'm dead inside? By the way, your nose is bleeding.”
But Jack is immune to all things cute. It takes way more than puppy eyes to make this man feel anything. And Lynsie knows that for a fact. With that blow, the cuteness wears off and Perrito wipes his bleeding snout, yet...he's smirking.
“Oh. I was just buying some time for Team Friendship.”
“Team what?”
Alertness kicks in for Lynsie as she looks behind Jack to see Baby Bear charging up, Puss and Kitty perched on Goldi's staff.
“Jack!”
Jack turns as Baby Bear launches Goldi into the air. Goldi spins the staff at high speed, flinging the cats even higher as Jack attempts to grab them. The cats slip through his splayed fingers but Goldi vaults onto his arm and now Lynsie takes off. The two women clashed on his upper arm. Now, Jack could make this easier and swat Goldi away, but nay nay. His attention is elsewhere. His eyes followed the cats as they soared heroically upward, swords catching starlight, before descending sharply to precisely bury their blades right under Jack's giant thumbnails. A sight that makes the bears cringe in pain.
“Spanish Splinter!”
Puss and Kitty say in unison as if they performed some grand trick. And in milliseconds, the most unforgettable incredible pain shoots through Jack's system. It jerks his very core. His entire body reels and in an instinctual reaction, he shakes his hands to force the cause of the pain to go away. This does quite a few things. The first thing, it makes him let go of the map. The second thing, it jostles Lynsie and Goldi, resulting in Goldi sucker smacking Lynsie with her staff to prevent her from getting in the way as she leaps after the map. The third, while the cats let go of their blades Jack is further distracted by removing them from his now very sore thumbs. And lastly, the most important of all things that come of this, now Goldi and the cats have the map. Once Jack and Lynsie have their bearings again, he reaches for the map. Goldi, Kitty, and Puss lock eyes before they deliberately rip the map apart!
While a smart move in the sense of preventing Jack from making his wish, the thing is, the map is intrinsically linked to the star itself. So when the map is ripped, the STAR ITSELF RIPS. A jagged crack splintering down its center. Raw energy surges as its surface buckles. It bubbles and bursts with volcanic stardust. The star is collapsing, folding in on itself, burning with imploding enchantments.
“What have you done?! No!”
Jack scurries after the pieces of the map, trying to collect them all and put them back together. As for everyone else, they bolt to get off the star as it falls back down to the crater, the cosmic wall of magic fading as the star is unable to maintain it.
“The map! My wish!”
“To your right! There's one!”
Jack remains in the center with Lynsie pointing out pieces. Goldi and the Bears claw up a nearly vertical splinter of the star with Kitty and Puss following them, Puss holding onto Perrito like a protective parent. They all make a final desperate leap to the crater's edge, landing a little sloppily but safely.
The Wishing Star, still crumbling but not completely lost, slips back into the crater which brims with molten silvery, star-stuff. Jack gathers up the fragments of the map and lucky for him they knit magically back together.
“It's mine.”
Jack laughs in victory, having pulled a win from the unfair jaws of defeat, but then realizes that there's one piece still missing that leaves a hole in the center of the map.
“Y-Y-Y-You looking for something?”
That voice. It hits them both like a slap. In flies the phoenix with Gimini on its back. But what they zone in on is what the bug is holding...the missing piece.
“Hey now. There's no need to do anything hasty and regrettable.”
Lynsie tries to talk things out but that's a ship that has long since sailed and she sees it in the bug's eyes.
“Throw me!”
Jack quickly does as she says, throwing her at the bird and bug.
“Consider this my resignation, mister!”
Gimini tosses the last piece of the map and the phoenix rears back, flame building in his throat.
“Ember, no!!”
But it's too late, the Phoenix spits its fire before Lynsie's hand can clasp it, and all she gets is a face full of ash that blinds her, causing her to crash into one of the splintered points of the star. With that piece cremated, the map can't be completed and therefore burns to ash in Jack's hands. This is devastating to him. So much so that it triggers his right eye to twitch as his mind struggles with having come so far and been denied his desire. Not only that but it was denied to him by magical beings. Oh cruel irony. The space under him gives way, his foot breaks through the shattered surface of the star and he's plunged waist-deep into the star.
“Oh! What did I do to deserve this?”
He tries to move around, push, and climb on shattered bits of the star, but it's all too broken at this point. The star's core acts like quicksand and it's pulling him slowly under. It's at this moment that Lynsie recovers from her brief concussion to grasp the situation. The map is gone. The star is going to explode. Jack is sinking into it. And there's no time to look for the bag for something to help. This is the worst of all worst-case scenarios. She freezes. Guilt hitting her. Her heart starts to thunder and she hyperventilates.
Why? Why couldn't she have done better?! This really is all her fault. If she was better, none of this would've happened!
“I mean, what specifically...?”
As Jack sinks away even more, his head about to go under, his eyes catch hers and it stops her heart.
————————————————–
Lynsie lies on the cold, damp floor, her body aching and battered. The room is dark, illuminated only by the occasional flicker of lightning outside. Her mind races with pain and the echoes of her mother's harsh words. The storm continues its relentless assault on the makeshift home, a symphony of chaos that mirrors the turmoil within.
But no more.
Despite the physical and emotional pain, the spark of defiance ignites within her. Summoning every ounce of strength, Lynsie pushes herself off the floor. The room spins for a moment, but determination steadies her shaky legs, the pain a constant reminder of the cruelty she endures. She can't bear the thought of another night like this, of a life under the whims of a heartless mother. Not anymore. Not after knowing there are better people away from here. The words of Jack and the memories of the Horners linger in her mind, their kindness and warmth providing a flicker of hope in the darkness. She clings to the flickering hope they ignited within her heart with an iron will.
She glances around the room, her eyes settling on a small window just a foot higher than her. It's her only way out. Silently, she approaches the window, careful not to make a sound. The rain outside masks any noise she might make. The window is stuck, but that can't stop her now. Her resolve is solidifying.
She backs up to the door, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath, steeling herself for what comes next. She mentally counts to three before sprinting and with all the effort she can muster, she leaps. Luck graces her with a merciful gift as the clap of thunder booms when she smashes through and hits the ground hard.
Pain racks her every nerve yet she can't allow herself to dwell on it. She can't risk getting caught. So despite her body wanting to quit, she takes off on all fours like an animal. The thicket outside is dense, but she moves through it like a shadow, guided only by the moonlight filtering through the storm clouds. The rain continues to pour, washing away the remnants of her tears and the stains of her ordeal.
As she navigates the thicket and enters the woods, her mind races. She needs a plan, a destination where she can find refuge and perhaps a chance at a better life. The Horners, though gone, remain a beacon of inspiration. She recalls the stories they shared about their travels, the places they visited, and the people they met. Perhaps, if she's lucky, she can find them again. If by some miracle she can she'd be eternally grateful.
Her journey is arduous, filled with obstacles and uncertainties. The rain-soaked muddy ground makes each step a struggle, and the darkness conceals the path ahead. Yet, fueled by the desperate desire for freedom, she presses on, guided only by the distant hope of a life different from the one she leaves behind.
She navigates the shadows, avoiding any areas that might betray her presence. The storm provides a cloak of anonymity as the sounds of thunder and rain mask any noise she might make. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, a mixture of pain, fear, and determination. The moon occasionally pierces through the thick clouds, offering fleeting moments of visibility.
After what feels like an eternity and on the verge of collapse, she stumbles upon a small clearing where the trees seem to be sparse. Exhausted and disoriented, she takes a moment to catch her breath. The storm having subsided some time ago, however long that was she knows not, and the rustling leaves around her create an eerie backdrop to her clandestine escape. As she peers through the darkness, she notices a faint glimmer of light in the distance.
Curiosity propels her forward, and as she cautiously approaches, the light eventually reveals itself to be a campfire surrounded by a makeshift campsite. Silhouetted figures huddle around the fire, their faces hidden in her blurring vision. She hesitates at the edge of the clearing, uncertain of whether these strangers pose a threat.
The group seems to be a motley crew of individuals, dressed in ragtag clothing. As her tired mind contemplates on what to do next, the group notices her presence. Their eyes assess the young, bedraggled girl teetering at the edge of their makeshift camp. From the shadows the leader appears, a grizzled figure comes up behind her, looming over the small girl and getting a good look at her while she's unaware.
The scent of fresh iron? No...Copper. The scent of blood permeates off the girl.
Out of his own curiosity, the man makes himself known and nearly startles her out of her skin. She moves away from him like a nervous deer and into the light of the fire, gaining a horrified reaction from the others in the camp. Her back, when her hair moves out of the way, is a lashed-up mess and still openly wounded. The group exchanges glances with one another thoughtfully. This kid was tough to be out for god knows how long while beaten this bad and bleeding. There's potential in someone like that. Without a word they come to a decision, they'll take the kid in and train her. Give her the guidance and skills to make her into something no one would ever consider a victim again.
Before such things can be told to her, fatigue and her injuries win out over her dwindling strength, she slumps to the ground as everything goes dark. The last thing to go through her mind was the Horners. She has to see them again. She has to thank them. She has to repay them for all they did for her.
She vows to them.
She vows to Jack.
————————————————–
“That's why you're mine. You hear me? You've always been mine and will always be mine. That means you can't leave me. No matter what. You belong to me. Say it!”
Her eyes water rapidly.
“I won't leave you...”
Against every sane and rational instinct in her body, she runs to him.
“I won't leave you!”
Jack's head goes under and all that remains out is his right arm, but even that is gradually sinking. The others watch from the crater's edge, a surprisingly sad moment considering the people they're watching were trying to kill them this entire quest. Still, there's a sliver of sympathy on their faces as they see Lynsie weeping while traversing the doomed star to reach Jack.
This isn't right. This wasn't how this was supposed to end. All Lynsie wanted was to help Jack be happy. Was that so wrong? Is the road to Hell truly paved with good intentions? Because it certainly seemed like it. She had failed her one mission in this life. She had failed him. She was willing to embrace this as her end. But she can't accept this for Jack. If one of them should live, she'd gladly have it be him. Yet...He'd probably be mad at her for dying. That would mean she'd be leaving him and that's something she can't do. Maybe it's the emotional rush mixing with desperate adrenaline, but a strange thought comes to her. Sure, it might be wishful thinking, but it gave her the smallest sense of hope...She saw the map incantation when Jack was reading it.
“Star light, star bright, First star I see tonight.”
Jack flashes a final monumental purple thumbs-down, his arm submerging.
“I wish I may, I wish I might, Have this wish I wish tonight.”
She dives onto his hand and clasps him for dear life as they sink into the molten magical core of the star.
“I wish...”
Her voice fades as they disappear into the star. More and more, the star crumples in on itself till it doesn't even resemble a star. The pressure builds to a blinding crescendo as the star explodes, funneling enchanted power out of the crater and into the very heavens from whence it came. The cosmos shines with silver ethereal light. Once it returns, it shines as the brightest star from the farthest view. Millions of shooting stars scatter across the sky in its wake. It's magical. Beautiful. Breathtaking.
Puss and Kitty stare up at the most romantic night sky in history. The falling stars streak across the heavens like vibrant rain.
“I hate to say it, but should we make a wish?”
Kitty comments and Puss puts a paw to her cheek.
“Kitty, one life spent with you is all that I could wish for.”
Perriot joins Puss and Kitty as they sit down to watch the celestial display. Now that the star is gone, the magic casting the illusionary boundary of the Dark Forest begins to evaporate, resembling fairy dust falling like gentle snow.
Next to them are Goldi and the Bears who, now having a moment to let everything sink in, have a bit of a heartfelt moment. Especially Baby Bear.
“You saved my life, sis. You was gonna make the wish but you didn't make the wish ‘cause you wanted to save your family...”
“Shhh...”
Goldi comforts her brother who's gotten a wee bit emotional to the point that it's hard to make out words..
“...and I was really scared. And then...”
Goldi hugs his head before giving him a nuggie.
“Oi, don't get so blubbery about it. Whose porridge would I eat otherwise?”
Baby just smiles and wipes the tears from his eyes.
“I'm sorry you didn't get your wish, Goldi-love.”
Mama Bear puts a loving paw on her daughter's back.
“But I did, Mama. I did get my wish.”
Goldi looks at her family and her eyes well up.
“Everything is Just Right.”
She embraces Mama and the loving bear hugs her daughter tight.
“Oh! Oh, now you've made me cry.”
Papa and Baby join in for a group hug, a sweet familial moment. When they do separate, Goldi gets her staff and smiles at them.
“Now, what say we all go home and hibernate?”
Papa Bear loves this idea.
“Goldi, you're a chip off the old block, you are.”
“Well, what can I say? I won the orphan lottery.”
Goldi climbs up on Baby Bear's back and gives a wink to Perrito, the dog winks right back. She and the bears give a nod of respect to her former rivals.
“Softpaws. Boots.”
Puss tips his hat to them.
“Goldi.”
Kitty nods.
“Bears.”
And with that, the bears head off.
“Hey, Baby, you got any ideas for our next job?”
Baby Bear takes a second before a brilliant idea pops into his mind.
“Oh! Remember that pie factory? I suspect that they might be experiencing a leadership vacuum.”
A little on the dark side to think of taking over a company whose owner just died in front of them. But who cares? There's pie! It's not like the rest of the family's minds either. Mama Bear seems tickled pink.
“Oooh! Family business! Oh, how exciting!”
Out of nowhere, Gimini floats over and lands on Baby's nose.
“Now's a good time to talk about ethical business practices.”
Yeah...Maybe don't do this if you're a bug, because...
“Ah! There's a talking cockroach on my nose! Get it off! Get it off!”
“Hold still.”
Goldi raises her staff.
“O-O-Oh, now wait just a second...”
Goldi tries to swat the bug but ends up bopping Baby hard on the nose.
“Owww!”
She keeps swinging though.
“Hey! Hang on!”
The bug pleads. And who knows, maybe they'll listen once Goldi's done trying to smash him. Either way, Goldil, the Three Bears, and Gimini continue back into the forest to leave. Chattering chaotically into the view of the moon as it sets halfway on the horizon.
Back with Puss, Kitty, and Perrito.
“Hey, Perrito, about that name. Let's pick one out for you.”
Puss says and Kitty gets excited.
“Yeah! Oh, what about Chiquito?”
“Chomper! What do you think, Perrito? Chomper, no?”
“I've got it! I got it! How about...Jeff.”
“Jeff?”
“Yeah.”
“He doesn't have a Jeff's face.”
Perriot snickers.
“You know, if it's the same to you, I think I'll just stick with Perrito. I kinda like it, since that's what my friends call me.”
This dog is too adorable for its own good. Puss and Kitty smile lovingly at him.
“Then Perrito it shall be.”
The three of them look happily to a sky filled with stars and a future full of promise. The brightness of dawn starting to peak out just a ways away.
“You know, to be honest, Chomper is pretty good.”
Puss comments.
“Yeah, but no.”
Perrito ends that one before it can stick.
“Well, we'll keep workshopping it.”
Puss laughs as a final star streaks across the sky. The trio remains there for a bit longer before they too take their leave of this fantastical land. No one may have used the wish, but they all got what they wanted all the same. And that was what was most important in the end. They all wanted the wish for their own reasons, only to learn along the way that they didn't need it.
Goldilocks wanted to wish for her real family, but passed up the wish to save her adoptive brother, Baby, and realized she'd had a real family all along, the Three Bears.
Kitty wanted to wish for someone she could truly trust and would never betray her, though she turned it down when she finally saw that Puss had become that 'someone'.
Puss in Boots wanted to wish back his Nine Lives but learned his lesson that one life is all one needs to truly live.
The only one who didn't learn this life-changing lesson of "be happy with what you already have" was Jack. "Big" Jack Horner wanted to wish to be the absolute master of all magic and keep all magic for himself but instead met his doom in the collapsing Wishing Star.
Oh, if only he had gotten to have the map for even a short time on this adventure. The map judged whoever was holding it and made varied obstacles in the land to expose the heart of the holder, forcing them to confront their fears, admit their character flaws, and change their thinking/behavior to navigate their way safely through the personalized locations.
But such was not the case though. Jack never got his change of heart or big character redemption arc. Not like it would have a real effect on the man, the guy may not have been about world domination, but he'd watch the world burn if it would mean he'd get his way. Still, it would've been fair and interesting if he had the opportunity. Sadly now this will never be. Jack is dead. Along with all that followed him.
Or so it seemed.
[To be concluded in the epilog.]
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ohorishan · 10 months
Text
birch tea
~900 words, ARR patch era, moenwol c:
Moenbryda and Ori discover a few things about each other.
-
There’s a spot on Moenbryda’s work table that’s miraculously not occupied by a book, a scroll, or a half-disassembled gadget. I put the mug of tea there and clear my throat as politely as I can manage.
She picks it up without looking away from her notes and takes a sip. Then she does look at it, surprised, and takes another. “Who taught you how to make birch tea?” she says.
“A– friend,” I answer. “Years ago, in Limsa. Is it up to scratch?”
“You missed the juniper.”
“Not for lack of trying,” I say, “there isn’t a sprig nor berry to be found.”
“And you searched the entire Toll, did you?”
“High and low, on chocobo-back. Soldier's honor.”
She looks at me for a drawn out moment, investigating my expression like an obscure tome. I give her my very best serious face. Then I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she lets out a peal of a laugh.
“Well,” she says, “I hope you made yourself a cup, because this one’s all mine.”
I did, in fact. I manage to clear another little patch of table for my own mug and climb up onto the chair adjacent to hers.
She slides the top page of her notes– a diagram for some kind of a device, crystal in the middle, calculations and crossed-out lines filling the margins– sideways to me. “Here. What do you think?”
It… certainly is a diagram. “I couldn’t tell you,” I say. “I follow you about as far as ‘point this end at the Ascians’.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” she says.
“Not sure how else to sell myself,” I reply, and she laughs again. 
“Fine,” she says, acquiescing, “not everyone’s a scholar. I’d do well to remember that. But you understand more than you think you do. No, I don’t mean all this,” she adds, seeing the way I glance at the notes with apprehension. “I mean the aether itself, how it moves. How to move with it. This–” the diagram– “is just a theory. When I have something I can put in your hands, you’ll know what to do.”
“If you say so,” I say, although the way she says it I’m most of the way to convinced.
“I know so. I’ve seen you do it.” She gives me another long look, and this time I hold her gaze. It’s hard to breathe suddenly. I think if she asked me to go out and find an Ascian to test her theory right this second, I would. I can’t begin to think what to say.
And then she breaks the spell, Twelve be praised, by yawning widely.
“Gods, I’m tired,” she says. “What hour is it?”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” She takes a long sip of her tea instead. I do too, holding the mug in both hands. It’s held its warmth– even inside, it’s chilly in Mor Dhona– and the tea is as bracing as I remember it, even with no juniper.
“Tell me about your friend,” Moenbryda says, dropping the gentlest emphasis around the word. “The one who taught you to make this.”
“Well. Her name was Aislona–”
“Ah, a nice Sea Wolf girl, of course.”
I smile, remembering. “Her family were ocean fishers. They’d go out for a week at a time, two sometimes. I asked her to show me, so I could make it for her whenever she came back.”
“And you developed a taste for it?”
“The tea?”
“Sure,” she says, with a wink.
I know I blush. I blush easy. She looks at me, and her gaze softens a little. “You loved her,” she says. It isn’t really a question.
“Yes,” I say. “I did.”
"A taste-defining relationship, one might say?"
"One might," I say, "yes."
“So what I can’t figure,” she says, utterly casual, “is why you’re the only one in this merry band not standing in line at my door.”
She’s at least done me the kindness of waiting until I didn’t have tea in my mouth. “Professional courtesy,” I manage. “There ought to be at least one of us you don’t have to fend off with that axe.”
“And what if I’m not fending? Unless I’m wrong,” she adds, “and you’re really not interested?”
“No! I mean, you’re not wrong.” I practically trip over the words in my rush to get them out. “But– I thought you and Urianger–”
“Urianger,” she says, quiet now, serious, “knows exactly how I feel about him. And he knows that whenever he needs me, for whatever reason, I’ll be there.”
Then she shoots me a sly smile. "And meanwhile, I don't see a reason any of us should sit around pining, do you?"
“I don’t think I’m pining exactly—”
“Oh, now he wants to talk theory.” Moenbryda reaches over and takes my chin in her hand, and I shut up immediately. “Do you want to debate the point,” she says, “or do you want to kiss me?”
“Definitely the second one,” I say. 
She tilts my face up to hers. “Good choice.”
She kisses very thoroughly, it turns out, and I’m more than happy to let her lead. The world narrows down to her fingers firm on my skin, her determined mouth, and the lingering taste of birch. It’s an eon, and absolutely not long enough, before she pulls away.
“Now,” she says, her lips still so close to mine I can feel her grin, “why don’t we leave all this right here, and you can show me what else you have a taste for.”
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muutos · 1 year
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@dilffactory / / from here
breaching subjects that plague his mind as of late, was a rather... laborious task. mentally, it is taking as much of a toll to keep things inside, as it is to deal with the actual issue. branches sprouting from a root of which nobody chose to see form. & now, it is likely too late for any of them. her tyranny will see that he is erased, degraded and disposed. he does not know to what end. he does not know for what purpose. though the way the cardinal makes his skin crawl when he draws nearer, gives secundo more pause than it ever had. he doesn't trust his own father, nor his advisors. paranoia hardening its foundation as the premonitions begin to get stronger. terzo will see his time as papa, yet. none might have thought... yet, it will be so if he cannot put a stop to it.
yet he's never taken for granted the faith she's placed in him, thus far. her visage nor expression may be flowery, though her spirit is strong. he feels a kinship with the sister he cannot place, & to swear her into their clergy's service was an honor he will recall until his dying day. yet, so soon it will fall. sooner than he ever could anticipate. perhaps if he had indulged her sooner, in his woes. yet the attempt is clunky, at best. & she clearly recognizes this.
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yet it's paused, for a moment. robes on, his painted face fresh & wet along the angles of his curved features. angled, with his nose in particular ending in a point. the greasepaint not yet having settled into the deep lines, & cracks of his mature visage. he lumbers forth, as he watches her work. eyes lidded, lowered upon the laceration she makes into her flesh. the ritualistic act still makes his heart beat just a fraction harder, even after all of these years. settling with a sway of emerald below, as gently parted lips rest in their frown. expression calmer than one might ever have seen it. the gentlest of furrows in his brows, & the faintest of frowns. that is it. for, yes dear sister. he can feel it too. most certainly, in fact. the spiritual man within entranced by repeated behavior. the way the energy shifts within the space. magic -- not of this world. bestowed, & never taken for granted. his brother had taught him such values, & never have they left him. sound rushing past his ears like white noise, & dampening the beginnings of her voice. he looks up at her. scowl deepening, slowly but surely. his mitre is off, as to not stain it with the glinting paint at the back of his head. she is in positions to see him in states others do not get the chance. his vulnerability reserved for few, & he despises even that they are privy. he had never intended for the reputation in which he has. but now that he does, he intends to keep it. playing into it, to create a makeshift shield.
her words only work to exacerbate his own sense of foreboding, though he appreciates it all the same. if he had wanted to hear exactly what he had wanted to hear, he'd be speaking to someone else. anyone else. primo is too close to it. too much a traditionalist, & rabbit is the only one he trusts (almost without question), to give him the honesty of it. so he raises his chin, where he takes her words. similarly, their feelings of softness are not so easily conveyed. part of why he's drawn to her. he does understand, & he certainly cares. more than you might think. yet there's a shift of something amused upon his face, at that. coachella. yes, a good day. brows easing just so, & eyes remaining lidded as his lined mouth quirks into the faintest of smirks. this meeting rabbit, as she turns around. though instinctively, he tightens his brows when eyes fall upon him. & expression doesn't have a chance to return to baseline. her wit extending it. why bother with the work if you won’t reap the rewards yourself? "that is an excellent question, my dear. however, i find myself struggling to answer it."finally his scowl returns as distraction fades, & the weight settles back onto his shoulders. if one paid enough attention, they'd notice his penchant for calling the girls by their proper titles, is not present with rabbit. he uses this, much more often. "at first, i was doing it for mio famiglia." he gesticulates with a curt hand. primo, mostly. he wanted to show him that his trust was not taken for granted... "and as you well know, i am a man of immense faith. it is a great honor, to sit as papa now.." he even gives a soft bow. immeasurable by words, so past his sermons he has not tried. he stops. his voice becoming more gravelly. highest voice of all three of the emeritus brothers. yet, mostly when singing is it noticeable. his scowl deepens. eyes flaring up with the nervousness, that flares like unbridled anger. frozen, almost -- leather fluttering along satin, as his hand finds its home at his side. chest rising, falling. he stares at her with dramatically narrowed brows and parted lips. nodding, before looking away from her. first a flicker of his eyes, & then his chin. vergognoso. pitiful. are you not able to face a woman, while taking to her? he flares his lip, in a small & subtle wince. "please. forgive your papa, sorella. i find it hard to share things. with anyone." he speaks. "however... there are matters of which i believe i can trust you with, where i am unable to trust others..." [...] "would you be willing to help me, with that?" head tilts, as he looks back up at her with narrowed eyes in anticipation. almost laced with suspicion.
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sabaku-no-rozu · 1 year
Note
🥥🍧
Hello! Answering these for Gaara about Rozu~
Coconut 🥥 - What are things your f/o does to express physical affection for you? (Or vice versa)
"Rozu is very physical. She always seems to need to have her hands on me one way or another. I find it particularly sweet when she gives me kisses atop my head or my cheeks.
Sometimes when we're laying together, she'll place the gentlest kiss on my scar..."
Shaved ice 🍧- What are things your f/o does that you find particularly/oddly attractive, that are usually unconventional or perhaps are strange to find attractive? (Or vice versa)
"When Rozu gets wound up, it's kind of funny. She's so passionate about her subjects on interest, she can go on and on. It's refreshing to see someone be so earnest with their emotions.
On the other hand, seeing her fight when she's been pushed to the edge was terrifying, like when we were cornered on a recon mission. But I'd be lying if I didn't say I was utterly captivated by her strength when she harnessed the power of lightning just to save us.
I also heard from Temari that she carried me in her arms after that fight when I passed out...
What I'm trying to say is, Rozu's strength and power, hidden behind all of her smiles and sweetness, makes her shine bright to me."
Thanks for the ask @nightingaleflow !!
Seaside Selfship ask game
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cogentranting · 2 years
Text
I really like the way Layla responds to Steven in this episode. She’s obviously confused and it takes her awhile to accept the fact that she’s not talking to Marc, but that’s largely because no one is actually telling her what’s going on (Marc can’t at the moment because he doesn’t have a body, but also seems like he maybe wouldn’t even if he could; and Steven isn’t super forthcoming but is also on the verge of a panic attack or meltdown the entire time so we’ll give him a pass, but the fact remains, they’re not telling Layla things) and because I think her reaction is what most people’s first reaction would be, assuming it’s some sort of weird trick or prank. But as she does start to adjust to the idea that Steven truly doesn’t know who she is or what she’s talking about, a few things start to become clear about Layla
1. She and Marc have, on one level, a lot of trust. There’s also the flip side of this where he appears to have left her, then sent her divorce papers, then not answered her calls for months leaving her to wonder if he’s hurt or dead, all of which is causing problems in the relationship. BUT. When there’s danger, her instinct is to fall into step beside him and to trust him to get them out of it. She jumps into the middle of Harrow’s cult with the scarab, ready to fight alongside Marc. When they’re trapped she turns to him. (except that both of these times, Marc isn’t able to actually be there and do what she needs). And when Marc does finally come out, there’s that brief moment of understanding between them, the little nod, her telling him what to do and him immediately following through on it
2. She pivots well. Each time she expect Marc to save the day and he doesn’t (because Steven is in control) she recovers in plenty of time to fix it herself. And it becomes very clear why she was his adventuring partner. Assuming they were together before Khonshu, she’s likely falling back on an even older pattern from before Marc was powerful enough to handle everything on his own. 
3. The way she reacts to Steven after she realizes it’s not just Marc being... who knows.  She’s not the gentlest in trying to bring Marc out, but also she’s afraid for her life so. But you can tell she’s genuinely trying to help him, (and I think maybe she thinks it’s some kind of weird amnesia at this stage) and when he does completely sort of shut down, she comforts him, tells him its okay and gets to work trying to solve the problem herself. 
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maizumis · 3 years
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— HAIKYUU BOYS REACTION TO YOU FALLING ASLEEP ON THEM
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ft. bokuto koutarou, rintaro suna, iwaizumi hajime, sawamura daichi, tsukkishima kei
note: female reader❗ first post!! enjoy babies<33
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❦ BOKUTO you were actually tutoring him with akaashi, an hour in, and akaashi had a family emergency so now it was just you and him. "so you're telling me I can solve an equation with a letter in it? damn that's so crazy!", "We actually saw this the past year, that's why we are tutoring you, so you don't fail", "no need to be so harsh" he tells you while his hair deflates, so you replied with a lazy smile on your face "sorry bo, why don't you solve the equations while I see how you make them?", "yeah! that sounds good!", he practically yells at you with the happiest smile on his face as if he wasn't studying for a subject he was failing. third equation and you were finding comfort on koutaro's neck, so much comfort that you end up falling asleep on him. "hey, how am I doing? you didn't tell m- oh you're sleeping, I should call akaashi to ask him what to do" he tried to look for his phone in the quietest way so you wouldn't wake up, and once he finds it, he called his friend, "akaaaaashii", "bokuto-san, why are you whispering?", "she just fell asleep on me and I don't know what to do", he tells akaashi with a little desperation on his voice, "oh, okay, carefully put her on your bed and please make some snacks or tea for the girl when she wakes up", after a little more of small talk, he hangs up the phone and brings you to bed in the gentlest way he can, quietly making his way to the kitchen to make some tea for you.
❦ SUNA lazy afternoons were actually something pretty common with suna, today after school you two went to his house and now you're lying on top of his naked chest, one of your hands on it while the other one is brushing his brown looks, at the same time, suna has his arm wrapped securely around your waist, watching some shitty movies on his laptop. "listen pretty thing, if you fall asleep first you're gonna have to make me dinner", "as if I would fall asleep right now sunarin... we both now I'm gonna make dinner anyways, you should really ask 'samu for some help in the kitchen", "don't you dare bring up another mans name while your literally on top of me". forty-five minutes into the movie and he started feeling something wet on his upper body, "baby the movie isn't even that sa– oh, you're drooling", he chuckled to himself, carefully cuddling you the rest of the movie, thinking how lucky he is for having you, and once the film is ending, he decided he would make dinner this time around; "Rin, are you in here?"', "in the kitchen, doll", he tells you a little loud so you could hear him, "I'm sorry I fell asleep", you yawn while wrapping your arms around his torso, "don't be, look at me now I'm making dinner but, this" he gestures to himself "is husband material, you shouldn't waste it", and damn he is right, who on his right state of mind would let him go?
❦ IWAIZUMI his unconditional love for you was noticed for everyone, except you, of course. as his and the other boys childhood friends, you were always invited to hangouts, except the ones that were just for "the boys" as they claimed. today's reunion was at issei's house, tooru and you begged for a Disney movie night, makki was saying that it was for children just so his friends couldn't see the excitement in his eye that wasn't unnoticed to your eyes. making your way to the couch, hajime signed for you to come to sit on his lap for the rest of the movie night, a thing you kindly accepted. "single lives matter, you know", issei says with a fake pout, "just shut up and let me enjoy, caterpillar brows" you told him while iwaizumi's arm tightens around your waist. your favorite part of the movie was coming so tooru said with an excited tone, "look cutie-chan, Megara is about to sing with the muses!... cutie-chan? you're ignoring me?", Hajime looked at you because tooru was right, that was indeed your favorite part of the movie, only to find you crushed on his neck slightly snoring; "shut up shittykawa, she's tired, let her sleep", he whispered, wishing his teammates didn't see the blush on his cheeks, "you know iwa, your cheeks are kinda matching my hair right now", makki told him trying to hide his laugh, "what happened iwa-chan? cat got your tongue?", tooru's remark was what send him over the edge, so he replied with "I will not hesitate to throw a ball to all of you next practice", he thought he could handle the teasing if that means you would be by his side like this more often.
❦ DAICHI you were exhausted from today's activities, not only you were on your basketball school team but exams were just around the corner so you were studying a lot and sleeping less these past days, exhausted would be the least you could call it. happy thing, today is friday and that means sleepover with your boyfriend, daichi; you were already waiting for him at the gate of the gym by the end of practice. "baby, you're okay? something seems off", he told you with a worried look on his face, "all cool, I'm just happy we have some time to spend together after this week" you told him with a quick kiss in the corner of his lip, making his cheeks a little pinkish. after you two arrived to your house, he went to the kitchen to make some snacks and you went to the living room to choose a movie; "Barbie and the diamond castle? again?", "yes, again daichi, deal with it, thank you for the snacks tho bub" literally fifteen minutes into the movie and you were already drooling on his bicep, he noticed and moved your head to his lap "you're lucky I love you, I don't watch Barbie movie's for everyone, sleep well, you deserve it love" a few more minutes and his head was hanging out of the couch snoring just a little, he went to sleep happy with the feeling of being beside you, can't wait for the future, he thinks before dozing off.
❦ TSUKKISHIMA your really tall and pretty boyfriend made his way inside the school, mentally hoping to see you, what he doesn't expect is not even a single tray of you in your classroom, a thing that leaves him to ask yachi where are you, "umh yachi, do you know where is she?" he asked with an unbothered expression, slowly dying on the inside, "she? OH, yes, she told me she is with a high fever so she could make it today, would you give to her my notes please?" she asked, a little intimidated by the tall boy, "yeah sure, tell daichi and ukai that I'm not going to practice today" after yachi giving him the okay he left, a little more relieved but still worried. the school day is over and after his younger manager lend him the notes you needed, he started making his way to your house, greeting your mother once he is in, going directly to your room where he doesn't even greet you, "why you didn't tell me you were sick? I could have skip class and take care of you", he tells you, annoyed but still caring, "I didn't tell you beacuse of that exact reason Kei, now come inside the bed and cuddle me" tsukkishima got inside the bed hesitating a little bit but once he found comfort on your warm, he was gone, "you know, you worried me, I couldn't stop thinking about you all day and you were here with a high fever and I could do nothing, i— you know is rude not to answer when someone is talking to you?", actually you were dead asleep the moment he touched the bed, his warm and company was all you needed and craved for the entire day; sighing he whispers to you, before going to sleep "I love you, please don't worry me again like that, short stuff"
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letarasstuff · 3 years
Text
Ranting
(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)
Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team
Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct
Wordcount: 2.3k
✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.
Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.
So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.
It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.
A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.
The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.
Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.
It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.
“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”
At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”
Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.
On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.
“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.
To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.
Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.
The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”
Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”
“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.
“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.
This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).
“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”
Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.
“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.
“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”
After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.
Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.
Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.
“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.
Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.
When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.
Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.
“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?
I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.
(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.
After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”
Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.
The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.
Taglist:
All works:
@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner
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meetmymouth · 3 years
Text
out in the heartland : harry styles
summary: it’s harry’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him word count: 6k warnings: daddy kink, pegging, anal fingering & rimming
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“Love, can you get us more crisps,” Harry calls from where he’s seated on the floor, a Playstation console in hand.
It’s another lockdown Monday where they turn Mitch and Sarah’s spacious living room into a gaming room slash studio– according to Mitch, bowls of crisps, cheese platters, wine glasses and other snacks decorating every surface as they play anything and everything from FIFA to Fortnite until their brains are too foggy and they can’t move their fingers properly due to alcohol in their systems.
Sarah and Mitch were kind enough to let them both quarantine at theirs for a while, and it’d been so much fun, spending time with Mitch and Sarah, cooking together, watching films and going on walks, and overall having a great time with their friends. As much as it was just another Monday in lockdown, it was a special one with today being Harry’s 27th. They’ve already cut his cake, one she’d made herself -and Sarah helping with the piping– decorated with maraschino cherries and sprinkles, and they’ve been spending the night drinking posh wine and screaming at each other while Harry and Mitch played FIFA.
With two bowls filled with more crisps, she makes her way back to the living room with a smile on her face as Mitch and Harry keep going on and on about the game, and Sarah teasing them both, asking whether they’d get a divorce soon since they’ve been arguing back and forth like an old, married couple.
They pause the game as Mitch says her name, “did you see the card Jeff sent Harry for his birthday?” He’s smirking as he takes another sip of his wine, and Harry throws a piece of cheese at him, earning a glare from the long-haired man.
“Not yet, what is it?”
“Jeff being a dickhead as per. He sent me a card, it’s between my book, there,” he gestures at his book on the sofa with his head.
She grabs the thick book, turns the pages until she finds the card with ease, and she feels her heart drop for some reason, eyebrows furrowing and palms starting to sweat as she turns to Harry. He’s watching her with a grin on his face, the others already laughing at what’s in front of the card as she takes it in her hands to inspect the shiny birthday card.
“’Happy pegging birthday’” she reads out loud with a monotonous voice. “Uh… okay. That’s– very funny.”
“He’s just being stupid,” Harry laughs, running a finger thorugh his hair. He sits up, mouth full of crisps, and extends his hand for her to hold. “Come here, let me feed you cheese.”
“Okay… uh, nice card.”
“I mean, I love you, Sarah, but–” Mitch starts, mouth full, and Sarah cuts him off with a glare.
“Do not finish that sentence,” she points the wine glass at him as the sounds of cackling follow behind.
They all laugh… except her.
It’s funny. It is. And she loves them, loves laughing with them. But now, with the card Harry labelled as ‘stupid’ in hand and a fancy, pink box with Harry’s name on it waiting for them, waiting for him upstairs, on the bed they’d been sharing since the beginning of lockdown, she can’t help but feel stupid, too.
Was that a bold move? Was she being too brave, or… stupid? Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but let a pang of shame and sadness engulf her for a moment, before Harry’s silky voice pulls her away from her thoughts. She accepts the hand extended and sits next to him on the floor, card now forgotten on the sofa, and she tries to occupy both her mind and hands with Sarah’s fluffy cat, giving his little head tiny pets as Harry rubs her back as if it would get rid of the tension she was feeling.  
“You okay,” he brings his mouth close to her gear and whispers, then presses the gentlest, softest kiss on her ear. “D’you need anything?”
“I’m fine.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, H.”
It’s not until 2AM that everyone decides to go up to their rooms, not even batting an eye at the mess they made as they make their way upstairs with promises to clean everything in the morning. Now that she knows the box is there, on the bed where Harry can easily detect as soon as they open the door, her stomach begins growling but not because she’s hungry, but because she’s feeling anxious, and ashamed.
She has to do something.
“Hey, um…” she begins, stopping them both in front of the guest room they’d been occupying. “Could you– could you bring me water, I forgot to take my meds today.”
“Baby…” Harry says, hand going up to her cheeks to stroke there for a moment. “I thought you had an alarm… I filled your water bottle this morning and put it on the bedside table, come on.”
“No– Harry…”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I am, I just want fresh water.”
“Are you– are you serious?”
“Yes,” it comes out as a question rather than an answer and she bites her bottom lip, feeling uneasy under Harry’s curious gaze.
“You’re being kinda weird.”
“I’m not being weird!”
“Is there something you’re hiding from me?” He says with eyebrows furrowed and hand on his hip. “In the bedroom, in particular?”
“Don’t be silly.”
And as soon as he turns away, she knows she’s done for. It’s too late. She’s fucked. Everything’s fucked, she thinks, and he will hate her. Will never want to see her face again and probably ask her to leave as soon as possible since he won’t be able to look at her ever again without being reminded of her disgusting “gift”.
He goes in, of course he does, and she can’t help but close her eyes for a few moments before she joins him, hands sweaty and heart beating like there’s no tomorrow. She finds him near the bed, eyes focused on the box sitting in the middle of the bed, and she looks up when he does, finding him giving her a bright, heart-clenching smile as the dimple gets wider.
“Well, what’s this then, bab?”
His socked-feet makes a comforting noise on the carpeted floor, and he stops when he reaches where she’s standing, hands immediately finding her hips to bring them closer.
“Harry, please don’t open it,” it’s pathetic, she thinks, how desperate and anxious she sounds. Though, she can’t help but close her eyes when Harry’s hand finds the back of her neck as he strokes there with his thumb. “Don’t open it. It’s just silly. It’s a joke.”
“Baby, breathe. What are you even talking about, hm? Why are you– oh my god, darling, you look like you’re having a panic attack. You’re sweating, are you…” he squeezes her flesh gently, then guides her to the bed. “Hey, look at me– look. I’m not going to open it unless you want me to. Do you really not know me? I would never do anything you don’t want me to. Who do you take me for, hm?” It’s so gentle, his voice, it’s like honey is dripping down his mouth and she can’t help but watch the way his pink lips move. “Baby. Look at me. I love you. You’re so special to me, you’re my whole world. I won’t open it– I won’t, I promise. C’mere, babs.”
“I love you too,” she sniffs once, twice, then rubs her eyes.
“Wanna go to sleep... hm? Come on, bab, let’s go to sleep.”
Nights chase each other away, Tuesday kisses Wednesday and Thursday is spent with laughter and too much smoke and Friday finally arrives and it’s like a breath of fresh air, but she also thinks it’s due to the open windows and fresh flowers in the spacious kitchen. The box, containing the cursed gift of hers is forgotten, placed under their bed besides their suitcases, and everything feels normal. Almost too normal. So, she does what most people would do: look for ‘trouble’.
When Harry’s in the shower, she gets the box out and sits on the bed as she thinks about what to do with it. But, apparently, the stillness of the room was too good to be true as Harry emerges from the ensuite, hair still dripping-wet as he adjusts the robe, eyes immediately finding what she’s got in front of her, and the box that is now open, and a black leather piece hanging from the not-so-tall box.
“Hi, sweet girl,” he’s testing the waters, she knows. His eyebrows are furrowed, only slightly, and mouth slightly parted. “What are you doing, darling?”
It’s not a threat, nor asked with the intention of intimidating her. Alas, she feels threatened.
“I…”
“What is it?”
She sighs, feeling the cold sweat dripping down her back, and finally gives up. “See for yourself,” the box is thrust into his hands, and she leaves the room, leaving behind a confused, semi-naked man and a very expensive looking strap-on.
It’s not another fifteen minutes until Harry comes downstairs dressed in only a pair of joggers, and finds her on the sofa as she chews on her thumb –a bad habit really– while reading one of Harry’s books. He walks up to her with a tiny smile on his face, and curls into her side, resting his head in the crook of her neck as he breathes in the sweet smell and the now all too familiar fabric softener.
He waits for her to speak first, not wanting to upset her further, but all she does is sit there, and pretend to read until Harry lets out a sigh, and presses a brief, gentle kiss to her jaw.
“Can we talk?” He says, hands now resting on her thigh as his thumb strokes the skin there.
She sighs too, and fidgets under his gaze. “Not really.”
“Why not, though? We’ve been together for years. Why are you so scared of me, hm? Have I ever done something to make you feel like you can’t be honest with me?”
“No, it’s just embarrassing to me, Harry. And… seeing that card. And you calling it… stupid. I just feel like an idiot, please stop.”
Harry sighs, his breath hitting the side of her face. “Look at me. Look–” he reaches and touches her jaw. “I love you. I’m madly in love with you. The kind that keeps me up at night. The kind that makes my heart hurt in the best possible way. I’m so gone, baby, so fucking gone for you. You got me. I can’t leave, now, I’d never want to,” he presses his forehead to the side of her jaw, the damp skin feeling cold against her flesh. “Jeff on the other hand… can we not talk about him when I have these– these images in my head. Of you. Wearing that.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to feel bad but too bad, I feel like shite and am so fucking embarassed, you don’t get it.”
“I do, I fucking do and I’m trying to tell you how much I’d love it if you fucked me in the ass. Now, you either come upstairs and finish what you started, or–”
They’re both startled when Mitch enters the living room and drops the book in his hand.
He looks up at them, clearly not phased, and they both notice the AirPods in his ears as he kneels down and grabs his book, giving them one last look before disappearing outside to join Sarah in the garden. Harry though, he lets out a chuckle and turns to her, dimple tugging at his cheek, and extends his arm to caress her cheek.
“Come upstairs, baby.”
He says it easily, words rolling off his tongue, just like that, and she does. Of course she does because what else was she to do? She lets him take her hand in his, interlocking their fingers as he guides them up the stairs. Once inside the room, the door is closed, locked, and Harry takes the time to walk towards the window to close the curtain, and she can’t help but stare at his long, beautiful fingers over the soft cotton. Other than the thick, silver band on his middle finger, his fingers are ring-free, and despite adoring his soft, pretty fingers with his equally pretty rings, there’s just something so soft, cosy and familiar about Harry without rings.
He catches her staring because, of course he does. He sees her. Every movement of her eyes, trembling lips, shaky fingers, scrunch of her nose; he sees it all. And now, he walks towards her, a big grin tugging at his lips as he stops right in front of her, both of them aware of the box sitting on the bed but neither of them say anything as they hold each other’s gaze.
And just like that, she feels like she can finally breathe properly when she’s being pulled into his chest, hands finding their place on each side of her head as he starts peppering kisses to her face, first her forehead, then nose, and at last, his plump lips find their way to the place they know by heart, her lips.
It’s not rushed, not at all, Harry thinks they have all the time in the world so he takes his time with her. He knows it’s impossible, foolish even, but he swears he can see the marks his tiny but lustful kisses are leaving behind when he briefly opens his eyes. They’re everywhere on her beautiful face, from her lips to the corner of her mouth, chin, the side of her jaw.
“How do you want me,” he mumbles and it’s an uttered promise, somehow submissive though not completely, but also one that is full of love, trust.
She freezes for a moment, hands still on his neck, holding each other’s gaze and she watches as Harry walks to the bed, and he grabs the box. The shape of the object in his hands feels unfamiliar to the eye, the dazzling, hot pink dildo at the front makes them both swallow in anticipation and she knows Harry is clueless about what his next move should be.
It certainly wasn’t their first time trying out things in the bedroom. They were both ‘kinky’, as some would call it, they liked rough sex, the kind that left bruises and marks behind, but never anything like this. Sure, she did give him a rim job a few times, his darker, puckered hole made her mouth water and she wanted nothing more than to get on her knees and kiss and lick the flesh until Harry was a mess, coming in long spurts. He loved having his ass licked, he loved sitting on her face, with his big cock stuffing her warm, tiny mouth as he forced her to take everything in, moving his ass back and forth across her mouth as she tried to lick every inch of the bitter flesh, wanting to please him, make him fall apart above her.
But, despite Harry letting her lick his ass could be considered as a vulnerability or submission to some, she was always his submissive. She loved it; they both loved it. She also knew today wasn’t the day she would give up on that submission. No, today was all about Harry, and what he wanted, how he wanted it, and it was about her giving it to him. So she gives him a tiny smile, hands reaching to grab the strap-on from his hands, and he watches with great intent, pupils dilated and mouth parted.
She swallows, and looks up at him with apprehension. “I want you to use me,” she lets out, a shaky breath following behind. “I want you to… I want you to do whatever you want with me. I know this,” her gaze falls to the pink dildo surrounded by black leather of the harness. “It’s something we haven’t done before, at least… fully–”
Harry giggles, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. “Fully.”
“Shh. I’m just saying that… we haven’t done this before but I still want you to be in charge, at least… at least–”
“You want me to be the Daddy, hm? You still want Daddy to tell you what to do, how to fuck him? Y’gonna be my little fuck toy? Is that what you want, darling?”
“Yes,” her breath hitches at her throat. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. You’re so good to Daddy, darling. Always spoiling me, always looking after me, taking care of Daddy… how’d I get so lucky?”
“Daddy deserves it,” she looks up, waiting for his command to get naked and she can see it in his eyes, the hesitant gaze as if he wants to make sure she’s okay still even though he’s the one who’s about to get fucked.
“Go on then,” he mutters, hands going to his own joggers as he lets them pool around his ankles. He reaches up, brushing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “Get naked for Daddy and put it on.”
And she does, oh, she does.
It doesn’t take long, considering she only has a ratty t-shirt on and a pair of joggers, and nothing underneath. It doesn’t come as a surprise to him, her forgoing underwear, but they both can’t help but hold each other’s gaze a minute longer. She notices the fiery look in his eyes, pupils now looking like a pair of black buttons as his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth.
She lets her eyes wander, gaze travelling from each puffy nipple that are now beginning to harden, to the hair on his chest, then the hair that’s following his happy trail, all the way down to his cock. She feels her heart clench in lust at the sight of his hard cock, slightly curved with a vein following underneath, and she just wants to get down on her knees and put it in her mouth. She remembers him asking her whether to shave or not a couple of weeks ago, and the thick pubic hair surrounding his perfect cock makes her mouth water, feeling content that she’d told him not to touch any razors.
She looks up at him again, to see the expression on his face and he smiles, hand reaching for her.
“Come.”
She walks towards him, the strap-on in hand, and a tiny whimper leaves her mouth when her hand finds her boob, long fingers trapping her pebbled nipple between them as he twists the darker nub, once, twice, and he lets it go only to slap it, causing her to gasp as she quickly tries to suppress the noise with her palm pressing against her mouth. It stings, but doesn’t hurt. Not at all. In fact, it frustrates her despite the tingling, stinging feeling between her legs. She needs more. She wants more.
“Get this on and get on your knees,” he mutters, hand now on her neck as he squeezes briefly, watching as she gets the strap-on on and tightens the straps. “You’re gonna get Daddy’s cock nice and wet before you can fuck his ass. Understand?”
She pairs her quiet ‘yes’ with a nod, mind too hazy to actually look into Harry’s eyes as her shaky fingers fiddle with the harness. The clasps make a clicking sound, very satisfying to their ears, and she swallows, getting on her knees in front of him. Clean, soapy smell of his skin chafes the tip of her nose very gently and Harry begins playing with her hair, hands stroking the side of her face before one finds the back of her neck, bringing her towards his hard cock.
“Take it in your mouth,” his thumb presses hard on her bottom lip, as if to remind her who’s in control despite the foreign object she’s been supporting.
Her gaze wanders, taking in his thick, leaking cock, and with one hand steady on his meaty thigh, she brings the other to his balls, humming when she feels them tight already. The wrinkly skin of it is soft and not at all unfamiliar to her. So, she leans in to press a flat tongue against his balls, not missing the way Harry’s thighs jerk in response, and she then takes them into her mouth. She hums at the feeling in her mouth as she alternates between sucking and licking them and Harry lets out a quivering sigh above her, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of her mouth around him.
He lets out a his when her teeth grazes over the area lightly. “Fuck, babe. You like my balls?”
Of course, there’s no time to respond, nor the possibility of her forming coherent words since he’s literally balls deep in her mouth, so she proceeds to hum around him, a few hairs there tickling her nose and lips as she sucks. With a pop, she lets them go and darts out her tongue again, travelling the warm, wet muscle from underneath his cock, to the tip. It’s a deep, pink colour, shiny and smooth, so she can’t help but wrap her mouth around the tip, earning a quick jolt of his hips from Harry as the action takes him by surprise.
She looks up, and sucks the tip as if it’s an ice lolly, and the salty taste of his pre-cum fills the insides of her mouth, fingernails pressing harder into his meaty thighs, and she wishes she could see the mark her nails left behind on his tiger tattoo.
Series of ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s leave his mouth as he guides her head down his cock, and as always, she obeys while taking him deeper and deeper, her warm saliva coating his thickness and she moans around his warm cock as she brings her hands to his ass. While still sucking, she squeezes there, fingernails digging into the perfect skin of his ass and he lets out a hiss first, then pulls her hair harshly before pressing her face down his cock, a shaky moan following as she takes him deeper, her throat welcoming the warmth and thickness of his cock like it always does.
“You’re such a cock slut for me, aren’t you? Can’t keep that mouth away from Daddy,” he pulls her away from his cock, hands immediately going to her mouth to smear the pre-cum and spit all over her mouth and chin. "You wanted to treat Daddy for his birthday, hm?”
“Yes.”
“You’re such a good girl, darling. Always spoiling me, making me feel so, so fucking good,” he squeezes one of her boobs, twisting the nipple between his fingers before his gaze falls to the strap-on and the dildo secured tightly to the harness. He gets on his knees. “Make me suck that cock.”
The words, they just sound so hot, so filthy coming out of his mouth, making her weak in the knees as she swallows, and she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing there once before it travels to the back of his head. She feels in control, having him on his knees, at her command even though he’s still somehow in charge, and it drives her crazy, having this gorgeous man all to herself. 
She watches him as Harry’s curious gaze takes the pink dildo in. She knew it wasn’t his first time sucking a cock, despite the one now in his face being silicone. So when he goes in easily with her hands pulling him closer, she can’t help but whine at the expression on his face, eyes glittering and plump lips parted as he takes the cock into his mouth.
He coats the pink silicone with his saliva, eyes shut as if he’s trying to concentrate on an important task, pink lips looking like they belong there, around a cock. They look so sinful, yet so perfect as he bobs his head up and down, talking the cock further into his mouth and she tries to guide him but she knows he doesn’t need it. He knows what he’s doing.
“You look so hot,” she manages to let out, words coming out as a hum, low and quiet, and he opens his eyes, eyelashes fluttering at the whispered compliment. “You look so good, Harry.”
He takes it out of his mouth briefly, a string of saliva making a bridge between his bottom lip and the dildo, and she reaches there, smearing it all over his bottom lip just like he did to her earlier as she loved seeing him dirty.
His pink tongue darts out and he wraps his lips around the finger on his bottom lip. “Gonna get me wet now?” He hums around her finger and she feels her pussy clench around nothing.
“Get on the bed.”
As Harry gets on all fours, ass in the air, her eyes wander to their lube on the nightstand. Ignoring the heat in her stomach, she sits on her knees behind Harry and touches his ass, fingers caressing the soft skin, touching the tiny mole there before she leans forward and presses a kiss there. It’s a peck, a sweet kiss that turns into more as her mouth opens, tongue flat against the warm skin as she sucks the flesh, causing him to let out a happy grunt.
He whispers her name, the excitement making her nipples tighten once again, but she moves her lips towards the crack, not wanting to stop.
“That’s it,” Harry groans, “Get Daddy wet before you put that cock in him.”
It’s a godly sight. Him on all fours, at her mercy, it was exquisite, intense, dirty. But she wanted to get him dirtier. With her hand parting one cheek, she bites her lip, noticing his rim, puckered and surrounded by little hairs, and all of a sudden, she can’t wait to get her mouth on him, to see the hairs get darker with her spit as he squirms under her touch.
She gets closer, a grin appearing on her face when he lets out quiet whines and whimpers, and she exhales a sigh into Harry’s milky flesh. Her tongue, hungry and hot, darts out to lick his rim briefly, just to get him wet before she uses her fingers. His cock, now a deeper shade of pink, hard and thick, is peeking between his legs, moving left and right from time to time whenever Harry or she moves, and she can’t help but reach there.
Harry sucks in a breath as her warm hand meets his hard cock, and she lets out a moan when she feels the thickness of it in her palm. It’s hot, so fucking hot, and the smooth skin of his cock is still damp, so she brings her thumb to his tip and smears the leaking pre-cum all over it, then drags her finger down to his balls and squeezes once.
His perfect mouth lets out a pained whimper when she lets go and focuses on the beautiful rim in front of her. She leans forward, both hands now parting his cheeks, and spits on his rim before flattening her tongue and lapping across Harry’s puckered hole. It’s not sweet, far from it actually, but the salty, bitter taste makes her even wetter as she keeps licking and sucking around his hole, satisfied when she hears him whimper and moan. Once it’s wet and the hairs around his rim get darker, she pulls away and licks a finger into her mouth, then grabs the lube from the bedside table and places it somewhere by Harry’s feet.
It’s fire, when she presses her middle finger into his hole, and Harry lets out a groan, her finger sliding in with ease with the help of her spit. “So tight,” she mumbles when Harry pushes his ass backwards only a little bit to match the tiny movements of her finger.
“Move faster,” Harry says, voice low. “Add another one.”
The lube is now in her hand as she brings it to where her finger is, takes it out, and allows a generous amount to coat the puckered area where her finger has been. Harry groans at the feeling, hole clenching around nothing, and she rubs the area with the same finger she’s been using, and presses it in before taking it out. This time, her middle finger is joined by her index as she fucks into his ass slowly, taking her sweet time while admiring the way he’s been taking her fingers. The skin makes wet noises, and she knows if they weren’t so worked up, they would have a giggle about it, just like they often do whenever one of them makes a questionable noise while having sex.
This time, though, the sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of his ass makes her go crazy, and she knows Harry feels the same when he lets out a loud grunt, pushing his ass back in sharp movements, in hopes of getting her to fuck him harder and deeper.
It goes on like that for a while, and they stop when he’s opened up enough, Harry’s rim now looking sore and pink. Once the dildo at her front is lubed up generously, she taps his ass once, making him turn his head back to look at her, eyebrows furrowed in question and mouth still parted due to the tingling feeling at the tip of his cock.
“Go ahead, baby,” he murmurs, gaze lowering. “Fuck Daddy’s ass. I’m ready,” his voice, hoarse and low, rings in her ears as she lifts the dildo up to his ass, his now-pink hole.
One hand holding the pink dildo from the base and the other resting on Harry’s back, she starts pushing it in, whines and hisses leaving his throat as soon as he feels the silicone tip. She watches as the tip digs into his ass, slowly and with effort despite all the lube, and she can’t help but bring her other hand to her boobs, squeezing once before she places it back on Harry’s ass. He’s a mess, sweat dripping down his back, and she knows he’s trying to keep quiet as neither of them would want to get caught by the other couple despite having the door locked.
“Fuck,” he grunts, head lowering.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he whimpers, ass trying to clench around the dildo but it fails due to how big it is. “Keep going, I want you to fuck me. Hard.”
She holds him by his love handles, fingernails digging into his milky, smooth skin as she moves her hips, the dildo now halfway in. With Harry moaning, she takes her time to admire how fucking hot he looks underneath her, with his ass filled with the pink dildo, and she sighs, continuing to fuck into his ass with the shiny dildo. It’s incredible how well he’s taking it, taking her, his puckered hole now a sore-pink, wet, and she feels like crying, not knowing how to handle what’s going on. She loves him. She loves him so fucking much, and she knows he does, too. She feels overwhelmed with love and hunger as she speeds up her hips, the dildo now fully inside him as she fucks his ass.
He gasps and jolts when the dildo presses right up to his prostate. “Fuckin’ hell. Please keep going, fuck Daddy hard. Fuck me, baby– god, I’m gonna cum soon. Keep going, keep fucking me,” he rasps.
“You’re taking it so well. You look so fucking good.”
“Oh fuck– it feels so good. Fuck me harder, come on, fuck me.”
Feeling brave, she presses her fingernails into his ass cheek, then lifts her hand, a loud smack landing on his left cheek and Harry hisses, fingers curling into the sheets as he lets out whimper after whimper. She watches as the dildo disappears into Harry’s ass, the pink mark on his ass becoming redder and angrier by the second and she decides to press her front against his back, laying down on him as she fucks into him deeper, nipples getting ridiculously hard as soon as they make contact with Harry’s sweaty back.
She finds it easier to fuck him in this position, and she likes that they’re much closer now, mouths searching for each other as he reaches behind and grabs her ass, squeezing hard as she keeps thrusting hard and deep. With kisses placed against his sweaty neck, Harry tries to turn his head to where hers is, and they meet in a rushed, teeth-clashing kiss, Harry’s tongue darting out to lick into her mouth, but missing in the end, and licking the corner of her mouth instead as she lets out a whine, hand searching for his cock that’s now trapped between his body and the sheets.
He helps her, lifts up his lower body and she starts moving her hand up and down on his hard cock, head resting on the crook of his neck as her hips move lazily. He’s so hard, and she knows he’s close by the sounds he’s making, his hips jerking forward from time to time as little ‘uh’s leave his mouth, and she wants to help him. She wants him to cum so bad. She wants to be the one making him cum so fucking hard.
“Are you gonna cum,” she whispers into his neck. “Please, baby. Cum for me. Show me how much you liked getting fucked.”
“God,” with cock still in her palm, he tries thrusting his hips forward to meet the strokes of her hand. “Please– I’m g’na cum so fuckin’ hard. You’re so fucking hot, so fucking good to me. Oh my god, baby, it hurts.”
“Yeah? It hurts?” She squeezes the base of his cock, then touches his balls briefly before continuing her strokes. “You’re taking it so well. Come on, Daddy. I need you to cum.”
“God, I’m– oh fuck. I’m gonna… Make me cum. Come on, make Daddy cum.” 
She squeezes his cock once again, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight to his cock. When he lets out a choked breath, she knows he’s coming. It’s hot, sticky, and so fucking dirty, the cum coating her palm, creating more lubrication as she keeps stroking him lazily, dildo still filling up his ass, and with a groan, Harry reaches behind to smack her ass.
They stay like that for a while, with her still inside him as he tries to catch his breath, and she proceeds to match their breaths to the clock on the wall, feeling completely spent but still frustrated since the pool of wetness between her folds seems to be intensifying every passing moment.
After a while, Harry clears his throat. “Are you a dream?” It’s soft, only a whisper, and sickeningly sweet.
“Hm?”
“You’re a dream. You’re unbelievable– I love love love you,” he sighs, voice breaking. It takes him a few seconds to complete his sentence.
“No, thank you. I hope… I hope you liked it?”
“Fucking loved it. What about you?”
“I did. You did so good,” she touches his sweaty hair. “But,” she starts, legs starting to feel sore. “I’m still so fucking wet.”
“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry, sweet girl–” Harry reaches behind and strokes her hip. “Can I fuck you now?”
“Yes, please.”
The strap-on now on the floor, Harry takes his time to admire her soft features, the sweat on her forehead and messy strands of hair sticking to her face. She rubs her eyes, and lets out a yawn, but her other hand reaches blindly for Harry, and he smiles, the gesture leaving his chest, his heart heavy and hot and full of love. He lets her hold on to him as she keeps rubbing her eyes, then he links their fingers as she opens her eyes to find him staring.
She gives him a lazy smile. “What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“All right, Shakespeare… mhm, come here,” she pulls him closer by his love handles. “I love you. Happy birthday. Again.”
“I love you so much. How is it possible to want you this much, hm?” He mumbles against her sweaty neck, not caring about the bitter taste of her skin. He watches as her smile widens, eyes tired and sleepy. “There’s a halo in your mouth.”
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pls reblog if you enjoyed it! it only takes a second but it helps me tons <3 inbox is always open for your feedback!!!!! <3 lu
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minty-mumbles · 2 years
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The Sword Reflects Her Hero
I'm still riding the high of that seven second BOTW2 clip lmao. ANY ways. More Wild angst
~~~
Hateno is quiet.
It seems like Wild’s entire Hyrule is quiet.
None of them can decide whether that is a good or bad thing. There’s no sign of whether Wild has finished his journey or not. (They refuse to entertain the thought that maybe he had failed. Maybe he was dead.)
It seemed so quiet, like the entire town was holding its breath. It was midday, and yet, no one gathered by the marketplace. No children ran through the street. The construction workers who usually sat by Wild’s house were gone.
Their only source of solace was the smoke rising from the chimney of Wild’s house.
It was all they could do to actually knock, and not just burst in uninvited.
A voice calls out “Coming!” but it takes a while for anyone to open the door.
When someone does, it’s not Wild. It’s his princess, Flora. She looks exhausted. Her eye bags indicate she hasn’t slept in many days. When she recognizes them, they can see her expression crumble. “Did you come to take him away again?” Her voice is hoarse, like she’s been crying for days. Her hands shake as she clasps a hand over her mouth, turning to glance back inside the house. “I don’t think he can-” She cuts herself off, still staring at something they can’t see inside.
The silence extends for so long that Time speaks. “Is this a bad time, your majesty? We can stay the night in the inn, come back tomorrow?”
Zelda gives a shaky sigh. After a few moments of consideration, she doesn't send them away, but pulls back, opening the door fully. She gestures at them to come into the house. She doesn’t wait for them, disappearing into the low light inside. Before she disappears, many of them notice there's a few small spots of blood on her shirt. They hesitate for a few moments more, before Wind, seemingly losing his patience, pushes his way to the front.
The inside of the house is quiet, much like the rest of the town. The only noise comes from a steadily boiling pot of water on the fireplace. It’s dark and warm, almost stifling. “Quiet, please,” Flora says. “He’s finally been able to sleep, I don’t want to wake him.” Her voice shakes. “He’s been in so much pain.”
Nothing’s changed much inside, except for a cot set up to the side of the room, where a figure lies, unmoving. That, and-
“Oh, Hylia.” Sky’s soft, horror filled voice draws their curious, wary gazes away from the figure, over tho the wall near where Sky stands. The walls had always been covered in weapon displays. Wild had told them the stories behind the weapons he displayed, once, told them of those who had wielded them and what they meant to him.
The display front and center no longer holds the Lightscale Trident.
The Master Sword rests there instead.
Or what’s left of it, at least.
Even Time, who has never cared for the Sword, to put it lightly, is stunned to silence. Even when Wild had broken the Sword before, it had simply dissipated into a shower of blue sparks, before reappearing in its sheath. None of them had ever even imagined seeing the blade in such a state. The Sword was a symbol of what they were, an invaluable tool against the darkness, a friend.
More than half the blade is missing. What is left of it is jagged, with an edge so rusted it looks like the gentlest brush of fingers along the blade will cause more of it to flake off.
Sky makes a wounded noise. His hands hover over the blade as if he wants to pick it up, but is afraid of harming it more.
When he turns, his gaze seeks out Flora, who is sitting carefully on the edge of the cot. He doesn’t speak, but his eyes demand an answer.
She returned his gaze with eyes filled with tears. When she speaks, her voice is tired, and so, so bitter. “The Sword reflects the state of her Hero.”
They don’t have to ask what she means by that, not when she carefully peels back the blanket covering the sleeping figure resting on the cot.
The stump of an arm, wrapped in blood spotted bandages, was pretty self explanatory.
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inexplicifics · 2 years
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Hi! I've never sent you anything before but ive read just about all your work and it's fantastic. I love the drama free safe space you've made your blog. I know the next installment of brave the thorns isn't for a few days, but I have to have a talk with my husband tonight and he's probably going to leave me. I'm terrified. Can I have a drabble of something to take my mind off it? Anything you feel like writing. Even if you don't feel up to it, just wanted to say I appreciate you.
Oh, darling Anon, that sounds like a very scary place to be. I'm so sorry. Let me see what I have in the way of soft snippets...ah! I have a Mantikitten getting to know a horse!
*
Zia eyes the horse warily.
She’s never had much to do with horses, apart from getting the hell out of the way of their hooves. Street urchins in Tretogor don’t exactly get riding lessons, and she was never fool enough to try to steal one - she wouldn’t have known what to do with it afterwards, and horse thievery gets you hanged right fucking quick.
Horses are fucking big, and they have really fucking big teeth, and this one has hooves like dinner plates and an evil look in its eye. Zia can just tell it’s gonna try to bite her, or kick her, or buck her off.
“This is Easy,” the stablehand says, patting the horse on its neck. “He’s a gelding, and one of the gentlest horses in the stables. Esra said he thought you might want a quieter horse, to start with at least.”
Zia gives the stablehand a dubious glare, then turns and glances at Aren, who is sitting in the sunlight, bum leg propped up on a crate, looking extremely relaxed. If she says she doesn’t want to do this, Aren will probably offer to go back inside with her, and then he’ll fret over her sisters, and -
Fine. Fucking fine.
“If it bites me, I’ll bite you,” she informs the stablehand, who grins.
“Seems fair,” he allows. “Here.” He hands her an apple slice. Zia gives him a very dirty look. She isn’t starving anymore; she can’t be bribed with apples. “Hold it out on your palm, keep your fingers flat,” the stablehand says, demonstrating with an empty hand.
Oh. It’s to bribe the horse. Zia imitates him, holding very still as the horse snuffles at the apple slice and then takes it from her hand with shockingly agile lips.
“He likes his blaze scratched - the white stripe,” the stablehand says, and does so. The horse makes a funny noise and nudges his shoulder with its nose. “D’you want to try?”
Zia hunches her shoulders and glares at him. He’s being too fucking nice. Nobody’s that nice unless they want something. Except - except apparently in Kaer Morhen that’s just normal. Everyone’s been nice to them. The servants have brought them clothes and soap and little treats, the trainees bring their meals and baths, Sasha draws birds for them, Esra comes and answers all their questions in his slow deep voice like distant thunder.
“Fine,” she says, and reaches up, keeping most of her attention on the horse’s teeth, to rub her fingers gently along the white stripe on the horse’s forehead. The horse makes the same funny noise it did for the stablehand, and leans into her hand.
“Lovely,” the stablehand says, sounding pleased. “How’s about you just keep getting acquainted with Easy while I bring out horses for your sisters?”
“Alright,” Zia says reluctantly. The horse isn’t doing anything too scary now, but who knows what will happen when the stablehand walks away.
“Keep scratching his blaze, or up along the line of his mane if you like,” the stablehand says, and grins brightly at her before heading back into the barn.
The horse makes that funny noise again and nudges her shoulder with its nose. Zia huffs right back at it. “I’ve got my eye on you, horse,” she warns it quietly, still rubbing at its stripe. “You put one hoof wrong and you’re gonna be glue.”
The horse just leans into her hand, clearly unafraid.
Well, alright. It hasn’t done anything worrisome yet. Zia still isn’t sure about this whole riding thing, but this is...acceptable. For now.
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