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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

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Good Old Drama and Gossip

Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Morizono Aguni (Mentioned), Chishiya Shuntaro (mentioned), Last Boss (Briefly Mentioned), and me

Genre: Crack. This time it's just blind!Niragi being fussy and me stealing Aguni in the background

1.5k words

Part 3 of being a little shit to Hatter and getting away with it. But hey, at least there's the added bonus of Niragi being dramatic while being able to see nothing. A shame I didn't arm him with a cane and let him smack people.

Hatter was going to get them this time, he swears on it. It’s been more than a week since they last struck, and as far as he knew, there was not a single invasion into his Beach. He was always on alert, just in case something happened. It didn’t get in the way of his primary duty to his people, but the thought never left him to make sure everything he owned was in place.

Checking for any of the other’s stuff wasn’t anything Hatter worried about, thankfully. For some odd reason he could only interpret as ‘being too handsome and irresistible for his own good’ only his stuff was ever snatched like a cookie in the elusive cookie jar. He didn’t want to develop more stress lines making sure his men were okay in their personal possessions. Wrinkles shall only come to accentuate him, make him look good, not just tired and old.

That privilege can go to Aguni.

The man in question was at the very least rocking it, made him look fierce. Hatter could appreciate that in him, and it makes his job easier in subduing the more…. rambunctious of their group.

In fact, one of Aguni’s more problematic men, Niragi, had come back to a game with bad eye issues, even more worse than the appointed med staff could figure out. Apparently the game the oversaturated oil stain was in broke his eyes to the point where he couldn’t use them for a good while. In short, Niragi was left completely blind, and Aguni now had to deal with an increasingly whiny and temper hearty baked bean burrito. Hatter found it funny, but oh boy was it wearing out his poor fried dumpling.

It also left quite a hole in the defense for the intruders, so the issue of Aguni and Niragi was also an issue for the safety of the Beach (and Hatter’s stuff) as a whole.

No point thinking about this now. Hatter leans back on the sofa, sipping at a cold blend of juices and relaxing. His feet were killing him right about now, Hatter flexing his stiff toes and internally begging for a good pedicure to fly in through the doors and give his feet a touch of heaven and bliss.

The door in fact does fly open as the thought passes his head, Hatter sitting up and raising an eyebrow as Niragi stands there, breathing heavily. The sunglasses Hatter has so graciously offered to him in order to make him both sexier and protect his eyes from the sunlight so he didn’t permanently damage them further was slipping slightly off his face, Niragi fixing them after a few more pants.

“ You…..! You fucking coconut slut!” Niragi rasps out, and Hatter quirks his eyebrow in mild amusement, leaning forward and sipping his juice quietly as one arm rested on his knee. Niragi points a finger in Hatter’s direction, if Hatter was 45 degrees to the left and standing. “ You fucking left me tied on that bed for an hour! What fucking gives!”

Hatter says nothing, as Niragi storms in….. and immediately slams into the back of the other couch, Hatter bursting into laughter. Niragi on the other hand starts spouting obscenities and kicks the couch, and the red cocktail man notices the lack of real gun in Niragi’s possession, other than the super soaker that was substituted. Aguni probably replaced it, knowing that a blind trigger happy man was a danger to society and himself.

“ What the fuck is this bull?! What- Oh for fucks sakes this isn’t Chishiya’s room is it.” Niragi finally sputters out, grabbing the top edge of the couch and massaging the soft cushions underneath his long fingers.

“ Oh, I wish I was. Now what was this about being tied to a bed, hm?” Hatter croons, which earns him a hearty middle finger.

“ Like heck am I about to tell you. Okay, let’s try this again-“ Niragi turns around, but Hatter whistles at him, Niragi slowly spinning back around to face Hatter’s general position. “ What is it, I don’t have all day lobster man.”

“ Aww, not even a minute? Well, it’s just a question. Aren’t you supposed to be accompanied until you regain your senses? After all, you have nothing to guide your way.”

“ Fuck that, I don’t know where Last Boss went and he won’t fucking speak up if he’s just been following me like a sneaky little bitch this entire time, and Aguni was called away for something!”

“ Oh?” Hatter leans back again, Niragi throwing his arms up in the air as he starts pacing and nearly running into stuff again.

“ Yeah! So then that tiny mozzarella cheese ball came and said he’d help because I just look sad and stupid wandering around by myself, which I don’t believe because I know he’d push me into the pool the first chance he got, and then suddenly I’m tied to a bed as he puts on a podcast of nothing but some random guy talking about wool! It was hell!”

“ Oooh, I see. How bad was it?”

“ Fucking terrible! I did not need a wool lecture, thank you very little! Who the fuck wants to know the fastest record to shear a sheep was 39 seconds!? Not me, that’s for fucking sure!” Niragi rants, Hatter nodding and grinning as he switches his juice out for the good wine he kept by his foot the entire time, pouring himself a decent amount and taking a slow sip as Niragi continued to rant onwards. At some point Niragi managed to find the couch again (because he stubbed his toe into it, leading to an extra twenty seconds of Niragi cursing out Hatter’s poor couch) and sat down, Hatter pushing a wine glass into Niragi’s hand and filling it. Niragi downed it like he was a war orphan waiting for his arm to be donated to the war effort, Hatter lightly tsking him for not savouring it properly.

It wasn’t Aguni or any of the girls, but Hatter could appreciate the gossip as Niragi continued without a filter in his mouth, the rant going from Chishiya’s wool podcast to anything else Niragi had heard in his blind boredom. He was impressed how much information Niragi was willing to dole out just to get his anger settled for the rest of the day, and Hatter was happily sipping away as he absorbed it all.

Finally Niragi had calmed down, just nursing the wine glass that Hatter just filled with chocolate cereal instead, as Niragi refused to drink his wine like it was good wine. It was a shame really, Hatter liked hearing about Niragi’s auditory bubble day.

“ Well wasn’t that cathartic!” Hatter chirped as Niragi mumbled around his glass of chocolate cereal, draped over the entire couch as if he wanted to become the couch lord. Or wanting to be painted like the best model in the world, whatever he wanted.

“ Yeah yeah, whatever.” Niragi tips cereal into his mouth just as the crackle of his walkie-talkie alerts him and Hatter. Niragi doesn’t bother to remove the device from his side, too busy eating his cereal as a voice comes through.

And oh boy, what a voice it was, Hatter tuning into it immediately.

“ ….. Testing, testing! Are you hearing me? Hi hi, it’s me, your local menace~ The one with the robe, remember me? Yeah! Hi, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just gonna….. borrow Mr. Beef Stew with extra beef for a few hours! For personal, very important reasons and definitely not because I got a replica statue of a cute dog stuck in a window and now I can’t get it out. Anyways, bye!” The rest becomes static as it disconnects, Niragi snorting a little as Hatter takes one deep breath.

“ Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Niragi, hand it over to me.”

“ You’re not my boss.” “ Yes, but I’m Aguni’s, so hand it over.”

Niragi grumbles, unclipping the walkie-talkie and tossing it in Hatter’s general direction, Hatter humming and pressing the button on the side.

“ Hello? Are you still there, you rascal?” Hatter leans in, pouring as much honey into his voice to lure them out.

“… Yep, still here! Hi, didn’t think you’d be there too Hatter.” “ Oh, I’m here, and I would like to kindly know where you and your little friends are. As a little house visit~” There was a chuckle on the other end. “ Oh, sorry sorry, but I can’t. We can always come over and visit though, even if it’s for a brief moment!” “ Is that so…. Well, you wound me so, you know!” Hatter puts a hand on his chest. “ For you to not even offer me the same respect, ah it hits me right here that you can’t even trust me~”

“ Sorry! Anyways, gotta go, got things to do, got stuff to move with Aguni, who was nice enough to help us.”

“ At your base? Well, what’s stopping me from asking him for directions later for a surprise visit one of these days, maybe have a meet and greet with my beloved stolen items?”

“ Not anywhere near our base, we’re not that dumb my dear red bean paste~ Don’t worry, we’ll return your man in….. 3-5 business days maybe okay byeeeeeeeee-“ The line goes completely dead, and Hatter stares at the black box.

Those cursed beings, they’ve gone too far. Too far.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #hatter #takeru danma #aguni morizono #niragi suguru #last boss #takatora samura #chishiya shuntaro #hatter rues the day he met us conniving thieves #at the very least he got entertainment before being bamboozled from right under his nose #blind niragi is funny because I can make him smack into things without a chaperone #niragi slow down you're slurping too fast-#you can't go anywhere anyways without potentially running into issues #now how did chishiya manage to distract niragi long enough to tie him down? who knows

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urimaginespimp · 3 years

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Michael Gray: Better Man pt 7

Olivia remembers how she longed for an alone time with Michael when their relationship was starting to hit rock bottom.

And now she got one.

The only cons were simple. One, they weren't dating anymore, and Two, everywhere they went, there was this awkwardness in the atmosphere they keep trying to ignore.

They spent the afternoon roaming around Brooklyn, with Olivia telling Michael everything he needs to know about the place, while he would either reply with a simple 'oh', 'okay', 'that's nice', or the occasional "mmm".

Now heading back to their apartment, she was internally panicking on what to talk about as it was a far walk.

"Do you think it's true that Arthur and John were really using you to play catch through the window when you were a baby?" She asked out of the blue, trying to push the awkwardness away again.

"They laugh every time I ask again, but I think that's why I have this small dent on the back of my head." He chuckled.

"Oh yeah, I remember you have that." She murmured.

Getting the idea of what she was trying to do, he decided to go along with it.

"Do you remember the first time we met each other?" He asked in a playful tone.

"Hmmm I don't know what you mean." She feigned innocence.

"Oh it's engraved in here." He pointed at his temple before continuing with a teasing tone.

"You waltzed into my mother's house, started taking your dress off and threw it up in the air, while yelling how glad you were that you wouldn't have to worry about not fitting in the stupid dress Tommy was making you wear for an event." He let out a small laugh at the memory.

"And you sat there, all red, looking down on the floor." It was her turn to laugh at him.

"Hey, you turned red too when you finally saw me." He retorted, smiling.

Michael can remember it like was just yesterday.

He just met his mom, and was having tea with her. He was alone at the table because Polly went upstairs to look for photographs and documents of him when he was a baby.

He was just looking around the room when the door opened and in came a woman in a red dress, with her face made up beautifully, and her hair flowing behind her.

She didn't see him though, because the moment she shut the door behind her, she started unbuttoning her dress, making him panic.

"Poll I'm back, and we can finally get rid of this stupid dress Thomas made me shrink into!"

Michael wanted to stop her, but his voice got caught up in his throat. He's never seen a woman in only her undergarments before and was too shocked to respond.

He looked down instead, already feeling his face getting hot.

"I can eat fucking pastries again!" She yelled happily, throwing the dress up in the air.

It landed on the floor in-front of him.

Olivia, upon seeing where it landed near at, gaped like a fish, let out a small scream, then ran behind the nearest curtain.

"W-who are you and where's Polly?!" She exclaimed, peaking her head out and holding the curtain to her chest.

"I'm polly's son, Michael." He responded, still refusing to look away from the floor.

"Oh fuck." She muttered to herself. "You came!" She exclaimed sounding happy. "I am so sorry you had too see that! I- I'm not usually like this when I go in people's homes."

"What the hell is going on in there?" Polly's footsteps was getting closer.

Upon seeing the both of them - his son was all red and now looking at her, while a familiar red dress was on the floor in-front of him. And Olivia now behind the curtain looking guilty.

"You know what, I don't even wanna know." Polly said, chuckling. "Michael this is Olivia, we treat her like family. Olivia, this is my son."

And that was the start of their friendship.

After getting through a crosswalk, Both of them were thinking of another 'safe' memory to bring up.

"I remember you getting your first drink." She started.

"What about it?"

"It was your 18th birthday, everybody was having too much fun to notice that the birthday boy was making frequent zigzag trips to the bathroom." They both let out a small laugh.

"I'm way better with my drinks now. But why were you being a creep observing people like that during a party, anyway?" He smiled at her.

"I wasn't allowed to drink that night because I lost a bet to John and I had to watch his kids in the morning."

"What was the bet about?"He asked.

She shrugged.

She remember that day though, John laughing hiss ass off for winning a bet between them. His eyes full of playfulness. He then started thinking of ways he could punish her.

"Alright, liv, you think you're so slick, eh?" He was smirking at her.

"What are ya talkin bout, doofus?"

"Don't think that I haven't seen you and me cousin undressing each other with your eyes." He teased, laughing when she turned a dark shade of crimson.

"How about this..." He said leaning closer on the table. "I order you to kiss him tonight in-front of everyone at the party, and tell him it's a birthday gift." He said, taking a puff of smoke.

Not wanting to embarrass herself that night, she decided to downplay it a little.

"Really? That's the best you can do? Not really a punishment there, Johnny. You can't go all soft on me now." She retorted, acting nonchalant about it, leaning back on her chair.

It worked though because John looked like he was now having second thoughts about it.

"Okay, luv, no drinking for you tonight, and you watch me rascals tomorrow."

Trying to hide her victory smile, she started protesting as if it was that bad.

She smiled at the memory.

"I can't exactly remember what it was about. But it was undoubtedly something stupid." She chuckled.

Falling into silence once again, hands in their coats' pockets, they were only a few blocks away.

"Remember when we got bored to the point where I agreed to go with you into trying to find Arthur a woman?" Michael asked.

"He was acting like he had a stick up his ass all week, and I was bored too. It was a two in one solution."

"Yeah except that narrowing down the options available in Birmingham left us with three women. One too afraid to even go near him, another one too eager to be part of the family, and one who turns out, preferred you." They both chuckled

"How about the time we made Tommy go all ballistic when we all pretended that I was secretly dating Alfie all this time and that I had accepted his proposal?"

"I think he was more mad at the thought that the whole family 'knew' and he was never once suspicious." Michael laughed.

"And he didn't know which one to strangle first when we told him it was all a joke, and not once has Alfie made a move on me."

He then remembers having to drag her away to run out of the house when she couldn't stop laughing and started telling Tommy it was his brothers' and Michael's idea.

Laughing about memorable times she had in Birmingham with the Shelbys made her miss them even more. The closest to one she had of them right now was Michael, one whom she shared so much history yet couldn't even bring to talk about them just yet.

"Are you still fond of books?" He asked

"Never grew tired of 'em."

"Do you still French inhale when you're in deep thought?" She asked.

"My body still hates me for it."

"Wine?" "Still think they're overrated."

"Still driving?" "Can do it with my eyes closed now."

"Black?" "Still my favorite coffee."

"Gin for breakfast?" "I've successfully got rid of that habit."

"Still dancing?" "I haven't been to one in years."

"Still making weekly trips to the pictures? "Can't figure out why I haven't been interested in going anymore."

"Any man I should be aware of?" "None at the moment."

"You?" "Still confident that I'm straight."

They both chuckled and shook their heads.

That long walk home wasn't so bad. Both were smart enough to play safe in bringing up memories.

All fond ones, as if the bad haven't been clouding their minds.

#michael gray #Michael Gray imagine #michael gray x reader #thomas shelby #Tommy Shelby #polly gray #michael grey #finn cole #Arthur Shelby #John Shelby #Ada Shelby #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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hazbintrashbin · 4 years

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The Tale of a Moth and a Spider

Once upon a time, there was a young lady.

Said young lady sits on the window pane. In her hands she holds some sort of craft, and is finishing up the last touches with a couple more frantic sews. She pricks her finger and hisses, shoving her wounded finger into her mouth for a second —just a quick second!— only to go right back to sewing.

She was but a passing scalleywag, however, due to unforeseen events, ended up requested to go to a ball.

Finally, she finished her craft! She went over to the nightstand and looked into the mirror. Glaring at her one golden eye, she grimaces. “There is no way in the nine circles of hell I will allow myself to go through with this.” She took up her eyepatch from a coatrack, and slipped it over her other eye. This eye was no good, and not quite a sight to see… it was better this way.

This young lady was a pirate, and the most fearsome of them all.

She pulled her hat from beneath the bed and fastened it onto her belt, throwing a rather large coat over herself. She grabbed her small pouch and heaved her bag onto her back. She was ready to go.

At said ball, Princess Charlie had made a decree: the one she’d marry was none other than Vaggie, who happened to be —

“...Me.” Vaggie takes a moment to facepalm, groaning in frustration. Why did she have to choose her, of all people? Why not Lord Alastor? Or Lord-Sir Pentious? Or Duchess Nifty, or Lady Bomb? Hell, even Lord Husk would be a better fit! But not her, not Captain Vaggie —no way! Vaggie may be an airborne entity by nature, but she belongs on the water, gliding the winds into the World That Comes Tomorrow; she wants to keep traveling to smell the spice from every nook and cranny of the world, to seize ships from every yellowbelly daring to cross her, to rough house with every sorry squadron atop the floorboards and to sleep facing the stars, all while her ship, the Sea Moth, rocks gently: as if it were a giant cradle. Yes, that is where Vaggie belongs. Not standing beside some cheesy, smiling two-faced, tomato-cheeked—

“—snout-nose-having, bow tie NO collar-wearing, ghostface, pretty-pretty-Princess in constant distress, same ponytail having, no-good shit dripping, class-lacking, dumb look-on-her-face —ugh!”

So, ‘tis be her plan: once the time is right,

Vaggie peeks out the window. All clear; she grabs her makeshift rope and throws it over the edge. She watched it with mild interest as it unfolds all the way down into darkness, where she’d fall into water. From there, she’d have to carefully swim through the moat.

The little moth would fly into the night!

Down and down Vaggie flew as she clutched onto the joined fabrics for dear life. Quickly, she fell right into the water, spinning herself in a way as to make as little noise as possible.

Princess Charlie would be heartbroken, for her spark had flown like a kite,

Vaggie swam and quickly pulled herself up onto land, and dashed into the dark woods looming over the castle. They were menacing and silent. However, this phased her none: she just wanted to rid herself of this problem and return to her life. After all, she had never expressed to Charlie any desire to be with her —the two hadn’t even dated! No, no, no —more like Princess Charlie took a liking to Vaggie, and figured she’d have everything go her way at the drop of a hat, all because she’s the princess. As if! Vaggie doesn’t abide by such authority. Charlie and her family may be royalty, but they are not a fearsome force to her. Why, she’s seen much worse on her seafaring endeavors!

But Vaggie knew — “Fit like a puzzle” —Them? Not quite.

While running, Vaggie suddenly froze when she heard a snap. She glanced around. All she saw was darkness. It was chilly, and she could still taste a slightly metallic nippyness. Hairs stood up on her body.

But of course, as she stood in the woods so still,

Crack.

Vaggie clutched her spear, which had majestically appeared by command. She glanced around, turning on her heels to look this way and that way. She still saw nothing. She contemplated calling out to this… beast… but decided against it. Let it show itself on its own accord.

A monster has come to give her the chills.

Crick!

Vaggie twirls to the left, and gasps. She backs up immediately, gawking at the large beast towering over her. She watched as it completely revealed itself to her.

Multiple limbs and tall as a Blue Holly,

Vaggie blinked in stupor. The… “monster” held up their four sets of hands in a defensive manner. “Aye, hold your tits, toots.” Vaggie couldn’t help grimacing at this fool. “Ugh, do not call me “toots”.” She said. The fellow demon huffed, and said, “Well, fuck else do I call yah?” Vaggie rolled her eye, lowering her guard some. “Just call me Captain, Fool. And who the hell would you be?” She asked. The man laughed a little. “The one and only, baby; Angel Dust, in the fur!” He puffed his chest out a little, readjusting and re-popping his collar. It was then that Vaggie noticed his particularly tight leather jacket, and the contrasting vividly pink fluff poking out of it. She scoffed, and laughed a little.

Ah, it would seem that this “monster” was simply a folly!

“No, no, I’ve never heard of a so-called Angel Dust.” She said. Her smirk grew wider as he becomes dumbfounded. He cleared his throat and scratched his head. “Bah, whatever. What’s a little bug like you doing in the woods anyway? Yah just askin’ to get squished, huh?” He asked, changing the subject. Vaggie blew a raspberry, dropping her guard to a bare minimum. At this point, she was no longer dealing with a terrifying beast --now, she was only dealing with a funny idiot in the woods.

“As if,” She said, “nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’d love to see anyone try! I do the squashing here, and the conquering.” Angel raises his eyebrows. “Conquering? You some sort of Lord or something, er… or, Lordess or Duchess or whatever?” Vaggie laughed. It was somewhat high-pitched and soft, and hilariously interrupted by the occasional little snort. Angel smiles at her dearly, unbeknownst to the young pirate. She cups her slightly burning cheek after having laughed so genuinely, and shook her head. “That’s stupid. Stupid, but hilarious, to be honest. But, no, I’m not a princess or anything like that.” Vaggie shrugs, leaning against a tree. She makes a face at the man, unaware of how sultry it looks. Or, at least to him it does, but that’s beside the point! “What about you, chump?” She asks. Angel snorts. “Chump? Doll, if I were you, I’d be careful who I’m talkin’ to!” Vaggie looks at him incredulously. “Oh?” She hums. “Oh, yeah, baby. I be royalty!” Angel is clearly oozing with pride, and Vaggie nonetheless rolls her eye at him. Doing this makes her glance at the moon in the split second, and then also to the neighboring planet where the angels dwell. The angels of heaven, that is. Regardless, Vaggie knows she can’t hang around any longer: she’s gonna have to go really soon. She looks back to the strange man before her, and she smiles a little. He’s slowing her down, that’s true… Still, this man is entertaining. In more ways than one, to boot.

“Royalty how?” She asks. Angel grins even wider, and bows. “Lord Dust to you, dame!” He stands, and Vaggie is genuinely surprised. “You’re a Lord? Like, seriously?” Seeing his smug expression never falter in the slightest, she figured it must be true, and gawked. “That’s… something!” Deciding to be a rascal, Vaggie pushes forward. “Hell, seems like everyone’s becoming some sort of Lord or Duke these days! When the hell am I going to get my own estate and stuff?” Angel huffs. “Whenever you marry royalty, I guess.” A moment of silence passes. Suddenly, the air is tense and stiff, and all that sense of comfort that was there before goes out the window.

“So, why are you in the woods? Like, really?” Angel asks again. Vaggie frowns. “It’s a long story…” she sighs. “I was supposed to get married, but it wasn’t exactly a choice I was able to make. More like, the princess just so happened to like me a lot, and took it upon herself to decide for me that I would marry her. Tomorrow! And so…” Vaggie took in a breath and let it all out in one long blow. “And so I decided to run. Run back to my ship, and back to my life!” Angel listened closely, and watches Vaggie kick a nearby pebble. “Ugh, and I bet she was taking that kind of advice from that stupid, son-of-a-tramp Lord Alastor!” Angel tensed up, and noticing this Vaggie frowned even further. “What’s wrong, hun?” She asks. She sounds truly concerned, and Angel was admittedly consoled by this. “Ah, yeah, so about that Alastor fellow? Well, I was supposed to marry him myself, but, ah…” Angel clicks his tongue. “Clearly, that ain’t work out as well as I thought it would. He only accepted my proposal because he and everyone else knew I’d boost his own merit. If we ever got around to joining our estates, he’d have the largest, and would control even more turf than he does now.” He admits. Angel then says, “So, as I think about it, I kinda ran, too. I didn’t want to become his fool, is all.” Angel looks off into the sky, staring at the dimension of Heaven with a distant look. Vaggie began to think. She wondered…

In the heart of the night, two bugs have met,

“Say, where are you going after this?” Vaggie asks. Angel is surprised at the sudden question.

A Moth and a Spider, running from lives of regret;

Angel smirks. “I dunno, probably to rob a bank or some shit, crash at that pussycat’s casino. Why?” Ah, he must be referring to Lord Husk. Vaggie chuckles, and offers a hand.

Then, the little ol’ moth proposed a bet:

“Come with me.”

Angel blushes at her request. “What… Huh?” He stutters. Angel’s smirk had melted from his face, and somehow appeared on Vaggie, who repeated, “Come with me. You said you were gonna rob a bank, right? Why waste your time with that, when you could sail the seas with me? I do things like that all the time —and more!” For a moment, Angel seems reluctant. “Ah, I dunno, I’ve still got an estate to man, and all my employees are stupid, so I can’t trust them for shit. Plus, who’s gonna make sure they do their job and not rob me blind anyway?” He wasn’t so sure about just up and leaving. But the little grey skinned beauty held her ground. “Maybe they will. But come with me, and you’ll have not an estate, but multiple, with workers of all kinds who’ll never think twice about what they do for you! You’ll have ships and towns, even cities dedicated to you! Angel Dust will be the name that makes those ol’ yellowbellys quiver in their panties!” Angel grins at the thought. That does sound inviting. “All that and even greater, you could have!” Vaggie says. She smiled warmly. “We could have it.”

“The Spider and Moth will rule the seas,”

Angel squeezes Vaggie’s hand softly. He brings it to his lips to kiss.

To this, of course, the Spider agrees.

Together they run until they reach the deck’s end,

For a long time they plan to never come again.

When the Princess and Lord will awake to dawn,

The Spider and Moth will be very long gone.

——————————————————————————

I’m sorry this really wasn’t supposed to be this long but when you’re a writer at heart, four paragraphs become four pages so WHELP—

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nerdybubblebee · 6 years

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First Lines Meme

RULES: List the openings of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

This is really interesting! Thanks for tagging me you wonderful peeps @callmedewitt @smoldany @thescarletgarden1990

Going to keep this solely Jonerys despite not all my last ten fics published were Jonerys hehe.

1) I Love You More Than Ice Cream

“Here you go!” Leaning over the counter, Dany handed a vanilla baby cone over to the outstretched hands of a little girl in a pink tutu.

“Thank you!” The child about three exclaimed, her cherubic face lit up in glee. Her green eyes darted all over her ice cream looking for a right place to attack. Her mother lifted her child up, perching her on her hip before taking a cup of cookies and cream from Dany.

“Thank you so much.” The slightly frazzled mother said. Yet, despite being tired, she couldn’t help gush about her baby: “This rascal did so well for her first ballet class so we agreed she could get a treat.”

“That’s so wonderful! Well done, little one.” Dany said, tapping the girl on her nose which prompted a shy grin from a pair of vanilla ice cream stained lips.

Waving at the mother and child as they left through the front door, the little girl now spotting an ice cream moustache and a dollop of ice cream on the very tip of her nose, Dany smiled. She loved her job so very much.

2) Their First Time

The heavy wooden door swung shut with a resounding slam that went unnoticed to the ears of the two individuals enclosed within the cabin. The day he stepped into her throne room, she would have never envisioned this happening. This stubborn man irked her so much and frustrated her for days, refusing to do as she asked. Oh, how he perplexed her so. He was a man she just couldn’t figure out and that only made her want to know him more. The urge to uncover every mystery that shrouded this king from the north grew stronger with time. He was the first man who wanted to know the woman beneath the crown. He wanted to know Dany. He was the first man who gave her his loyalty for who she was, not because of her dragons or her titles and her armies. He pledged himself to her because he saw her heart. Jon Snow was different with that he intrigued her. When he took her hand that very day on this very same boat, a gesture of comfort that she didn’t know she desired, things started to change between them. They were growing closer to one another. The stolen glances from across the room that lingered and all those unspoken words of longing had been culminating to this moment.

No one knew who bridged the gap first, all they knew was they needed to get closer to the person in front of them, whose eyes reflected an image of themselves. In his eyes she saw absolute desire, a hunger that she was eager to appease and a softness that she yearned to drown in. In her eyes he saw a vulnerability that he wished to cherish and a longing that he craved so much to satiate.

3) Splish Splash

“Mama.”

The child cocked her head to a side, curls as black as night bobbed gently by her cherubic cheeks as she moved. Her mama wasn’t acknowledging her, so busy absorbed in her documents. Demolishing her block tower and pushing aside her toys, one palm and a knee in front of the other, the determined little one started her expedition to reach her mother.

“Mama.”

A sweet insistent voice pulled Dany’s focus away from her work. She looked away from her parchment only to see that her baby girl had crawled over from her pile of toys and plopped her little bum onto the ground by her outstretched legs. Her baby’s chubby little hand lay splayed open on her knee.

“What is it, Ellie?” Dany cooed tapping the baby on her button nose.

“Play, mama.” Little chubby fingers reached towards her, stretching up in the air, flexing and curling, beckoning Dany to join her fun in her own childish, endearing manner.

4) Heroic Idiocy

Outside, the cicadas buzzed and chirped as the Queen of Westeros stood by one of the numerous open windows of her chamber, looking out at nothing in particular. She sighed again, losing count of how many times she had done it that day. Her emotions were a tangle, struggling between telling herself that she should just wait for him to come to her and throwing all restraint to the wind and running to him instead. To apologize, leap into his arms and never let go because she’d been missing him all day. There was also some precious news that she needed to share with him. But was today the right day to disclose it?

The doors to their bed chambers swung open and slammed shut, startling the queen from her thoughts, so hard she could almost feel the floor vibrating under her feet. Her husband had returned.

Great.

From her position by the window, she could hear him banging around behind her, letting out his frustration on the innocent furniture with every item of clothing that he shed, until all that was left were his simple under shirt and linen pants.

“How’s your wound?” Dany spoke up, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a hot knife through lard.

“So now you decide to talk to me.” Jon said rolling his eyes with his back turned to her still. After the incident, Dany had all but refused to look at him, talk to him, giving him the silent treatment. Why couldn’t she understand that he had to do it?

5) Flowers For Papa

It was yet another peaceful day in Kings Landing. The sun was shining with nought a cloud in the sky. In the nursery of the Red Keep, the three Targaryen children were enjoying a quiet afternoon of play with their babysitter for the day while their mother took some time to plan a welcome home surprise for her husband’s return from his trip to the North. It was the first time he’s left his family since the twins were born and to be away for two whole weeks, his family missed him dearly.

“This is a lion.” Aedon’s chubby hands held up a wooden lion figurine, one of ten hand whittled wooden animals by their father’s advisor and friend, Ser Davos, for the twins’ second birthday. Grinning, Aedon offered it to their uncle who lounged upon the chaise by the window of the nursery, his usual goblet of wine in hand.

Patting the child on the cheek, the queen’s trusted hand nodded, his voice a bit slurry from his drink. “Yes. You are quite right. That is a lion.”

6) Paper Planes

Everyone said she was a romantic, ever since she was a small child, a romantic with her mind in the clouds, a dreamer. The very moment her soul mark manifested on her collarbone one morning, she had all but ran around her house shouting in glee, telling each member of her household that she had a soul mate and she was going to meet them one day, just like her mummy and daddy did. She was ecstatic. She couldn’t wait to meet whoever they were that bore a mark that was a pair with hers.

“How will I know if I’ve met the right person? How will I know that they’re mine, mama?” The little girl asked, rubbing at her mark with a finger, her eyes bright with anticipation, with hope.

Her mother gave her button nose a playful pinch. “You’ll know when your mark starts to grow warm.” Giving the girl’s chest a tap, she continued, “That warmth will then spread to your heart.” Her finger moved down further, the woman then gave her daughter’s belly a poke. “And make you feel all fuzzy in here, like butterflies taking to the sky.” The little girl giggled and dove into her mother’s arms. “When you lay eyes on them, you just know.” She couldn’t wait for that day to come.

7) Love Thought Lost

Swimming through the layers of sleep towards the surface of consciousness, Dany couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well, so deep and dreamless. Lying on her side, she cracked open blurry eyes slightly and wooden panelled windows of her cabin came into view. The sky outside was still not too bright, the early dawn crepuscular sun rays cut through the dimness of the room providing a little bit of light. The candles that were lit from the night before and the fire in her hearth had long gone out but she didn’t feel cold. In fact she felt so very cosy and warm, combined with the rocking motions of the ship, could very well lull her back to sleep in this comfortable nest of sheets.

Stretching the stiffness out of her sleep idled limbs, her feet bumped into something firm. That something let out a groan from behind her, a very manly groan. That something proceeded to snake an arm around her waist and pulled her to it. Her back came in contact with a muscular bare chest.

There was someone in bed with her. Her eyes widened slightly as awareness flooded her mind once more, along with the memories of the night before. That someone was a very naked Jon Snow.

8) Fun in the Snow

Snowflakes fleeted down to join the collection on the ground as Dany stood by the gates waiting for Jon. The grounds of Winterfell were blanketed in white, fluffy snow after the storm that blustered through the night before. His words telling her to meet him by the castle gates once they were done with their duties came in quiet mutterings as they lay bundled up under the furs of her bed, watching the flurrying white snow fall down from above outside the window with the sun in the background creeping up upon the land. He told her that he wanted to bring her to a place only he knew about. Probably a guise to spend some time alone amongst the mess that was their lives. The time they got alone was finite these days. This tender intimacy was new territory to be explored and any chance they got together was precious. They didn’t know how long they could keep their romance under wraps, maybe everyone around them already had an inkling about what their rulers were up to, sneaking into each other’s chambers every night. But no one seemed to be aware; at least they didn’t seem to be. Dany dared to think they were all right for the moment. So there she was, waiting for him, feeling a little giddy, like a young lady waiting on her beau. Not that she was a lady she was a queen. Jon however, was most definitely beau material. Their nightly romantic dalliances were venturing outside the confines of their chambers. Would this be akin to the days on her ship, under the sun with the eyes of their friends on them, where they couldn’t be as free in their displays of affection?

9) Flowers for Mama

The echoes of his wife’s shrill screams reverberated through his skull. His ears were ringing; his hands were numb under the herculean grip of her smaller clammy ones. Her grip was so hard that they were beginning to cut off the circulation to his fingers, but he held on with his jaws clenched, keeping his fingers closed tightly around hers, giving her all the support he could. The pain appeared to be worsening, judging from the shorter increment of her screams and the tremors running through her petite frame. He wished futilely, willing the waves of pain wracking through her body, as she lay cradled between his arms against the front of his body to lessen even just a fraction. Alas, this was an endeavour that only his queen could overcome, only a woman could overcome. The endeavour of childbirth.

10) Flowers of Jealousy & Apology

Dany and Jon have been married for about a month now, to be returning to Essos as a married woman was interesting to say the least and for her honeymoon no less. Since the war ended, they hadn’t had the time to just relax and be themselves. They were quickly caught up in the task of ruling all seven kingdoms of Westeros. So, they decided it was time for them to finally take a break from living in a stuffy castle to travel and enjoy their marriage, away from responsibilities for a while. It was also the perfect chance for Jon to experience the sight and smells of some of the places Dany grew up in, where she left her foot prints; where she first rose to power; where she did so much good.

Observations:

I like to use descriptions a lot hehe. Sometimes I might mix it up with dialogues :).

I seem to write a lot of fics in Dany’s POV haha

My openings are sometimes long af cos idk how long to go on for lol.

These fics remind me of the good old days when I first started my journey into the world of fan fiction hehe~~ I think I've grown a bit? Although I feel like my writing can still evolve hmm... I have much, much more to learn.

Tagging: @adecila @tomakeitbeautifultolive @ktwrites @lawonderlandwriter @xxthewolvenstormxx @fierypen37 @drakhus

#fanfic writing

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fuzzhugs · 6 years

Text

Broken Wings - Redwall/FMA Crossover - by Fuzzhugs

Welcome to Part 2 of my Redwall + Fullmetal Alchemist crossover.

If anyone prefers reading in a GoogleDoc format, follow the link here.

Part 2 – Exchange

There's an old myth, about a hero who flew on wings made of wax. He thought he could touch the sun, but when he got too close, his wings melted and he came crashing back down to Earth.

“Creatures who are not part of my military are not permitted to carry weapons, mouse,” the green-eyed wildcat declared as she paced around the room.

Tsarmina Greeneyes. From what Martin could gather, she had seized power several seasons back and ruled over the region known as Mossflower with an iron paw.

She was an impressive figure: tall and sturdily built. After Martin became accustomed to her presence, he noticed that the fur on her forearms was cut very short. Beneath the thin layer of fur were alchemic symbols. One arm had figures associated with destruction, the other with creation, the two basic steps of alchemy. She had turned herself into a living alchemic circle.

“Likewise,” Tsarmina continued, “nobeast outside of my army is allowed to practice alchemy,” she waved the pages of notes her soldiers had confiscated from Martin following his capture.

Not long after entering Mossflower, he was caught by surprise by a group of soldiers. They had thrown some vile concoction into his face which made him lose his balance and drove him unconscious. When he awoke, he was quickly brought before Tsarmina, who now was taking her time listing every crime he had committed.

“Do these pages belong to you, or someone else?”

“You took them from me, didn’t you? Of course they’re mine.”

“They are really quite impressive. You could go far within Kotir as an alchemist. Your crimes are not so severe that they could not be…overlooked, but that depends on you. What do you say, mouse? Will you serve the ruler of Mossflower?”

Martin looked up at Tsarmina and straight into her eyes. “I’ve seen forces like yours before, you know.”

“Have you now?” Tsarmina replied, already looking irritated.

“Far up north,” Martin continued, “they had a leader, a fortress, slaves, everything a ruler could want. Want to know how they’re doing?”

“I am overwhelmed with curiosity,” Tsarmina rolled her eyes.

“They’re all dead now. Every last one. I helped to kill them. Care to join them?”

Tsarmina went from annoyed to furious in an instant and slapped Martin across the face with her claws bared, leaving deep scratches. “Take him down to the dungeon,” she hissed at her guards. “Let him cool off for a while. Perhaps he’ll be more agreeable after a few days without food or water.”

The guards hauled Martin to his feet and began to drag him from the room.

“One more thing, mouse,” Tsarmina said, picking up Martin’s sword by the blade. “I believe this is yours.” Energy flowed from her palm to the blade, shattering it into slivers of steel, leaving only the hilt intact. “Throw this in with him,” she tossed the hilt to one of the guards, “and be sure to bind his paws so he can’t draw a circle.”

Martin was thrown into a cell with his paws tied together behind his back. The hilt of his sword flew over his head and bounced off the far wall. The guards who had escorted him slammed the door shut, locked it, and left without a word.

“So what are you in for, matey?” a cheerful voice asked of him.

Martin sat up and looked at his cellmate: a plump mouse who, despite being locked in a dungeon, seemed to be in a jovial mood.

“Existing,” Martin replied in answer to the mouse’s question. “I’m Martin.”

“Gonff, Prince of Mousethieves,” his cellmate said. “Or just Gonff for my friends and fellow prisoners. Or ‘get back here’ if you’re a guard.”

The carefree attitude and general lack of concern that Gonff displayed should have intrigued and amused Martin, but only the same profound emptiness that had haunted him since his attempt at beastfolk transmutation filled his heart.

“Paws behind the back, eh?” Gonff noted. “You an alchemist, matey?”

Martin nodded. “Can you find what’s left of my sword? It’s somewhere near the back wall.”

Gonff dug around in the hay for a minute before producing the bladeless hilt. “Not much to work with, matey.”

“Just see what you can do.” Martin turned his back to Gonff so that he could cut through his bonds. There was only a sliver of a blade still attached to the hilt, but with some sawing, it was enough to cut through the ropes that restrained him.

“There you go,” Gonff happily remarked as he handed the hilt back over to Martin. “Free as a bird in a cage.”

Martin went to the barred up window and inspected the exterior wall and the surrounding grounds. Night had fallen and the parade ground was nearly empty.

“I doubt you could get much of a circle carved into the wall with that. But don’t you worry, matey. I’ve got plenty of friends outside who will get us rescued in…”

Martin clapped and pressed his paws to the wall. The stone shifted aside, leaving a sizeable hole in the cell wall.

“Or you could do that.”

None of Tsarmina’s creatures had noticed the hole forming. Keeping low to the ground, Martin and Gonff scurried across the grounds to the wall separating Kotir from the wilds of Mossflower.

“Tell me,” Gonff asked as the pair reached the halfway point between the castle and the wall, “have alchemists always been able to do that, or is this something new?”

“Answers later, running now,” was Martin’s reply.

Martin was daring to be optimistic about the jail-break when he and Gonff were spotted. A squad of a dozen soldiers was running toward them.

The two mice were too far from the wall to reach it before the soldiers. On foot, at least.

“Grab on to me,” Martin ordered Gonff as he brought his paws together again. A pillar of earth sprung out of the ground at an angle, catching the mice and pushing them along toward the wall. The angle was such that, by the time they reached the wall, they easily cleared it.

Freed from Martin’s influence, the pillar of earth collapsed, showering their pursuers with dirt and rock.

Falling from a height greater than the castle wall was jarring, but Gonff seemed to take it in stride and pulled Martin to his feet.

“Follow me, matey. The free-beasts of Mossflower have a hideout deep in the woods. We’ll be safe there.”

The trip through Mossflower was uneventful. Aside from a few patrols, Martin and Gonff faced no obstacles as they left Kotir behind them. The safe place Gonff had mentioned ended up being a series of underground caverns and tunnels, cleverly hidden beneath the roots of a massive tree.

“Gonff,” an otter called out when the pair entered the first main cavern, “in and out in less than a day. Don’t tell me they’ve started going soft on you.”

“My rapid departure is due to this fellow,” Gonff clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Wait until you can see the things he can do, Skipper.”

“Alchemist?” the otter Gonff had called Skipper asked. “Bella and the other leaders will want to speak with him. Show him to the meeting chamber.”

Gonff led Martin through a series of tunnels, passing by squirrels, otters, hedgehogs, and mice. Martin noticed the majority of mice wore green robes and asked Gonff who they were.

“Abbeymice. They came from the south a couple of seasons ago. Wonderful healers. Several alchemists with them too, but they call it something different. Alkemhes….alkiss…”

“Alkahestry,” Martin completed the thought. “Interesting. Who are the alchemists with them?”

“Their leader, Germaine, is the most experienced. A few others have a smattering of talent, though there is one who I’m especially fond of. Ah, here she is now.”

A female mouse stormed up to them and grabbed Gonff roughly, pulling him into an embrace. She seemed angry at Gonff, but seemed to be unable to decide whether she was scolding or kissing him.

“You…you idiot! What were –kiss-̶ you doing out there alone –kiss– anyway? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Freeing himself, Gonff did his best to calm her down. “Columbine, my darling, I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but the opportunity to cause a little mischief among the ranks of Kotir was too great to resist. Can you forgive this pitiful mousethief?” Gonff put on what Martin guessed was his best ‘sad and innocent’ face and gave a little whimper.

Columbine rolled her eyes at Gonff’s performance. “You’re a terrible rascal and an even worse actor. But I suppose I can forgive you…”

“You wonderful mouse!” Gonff hugged Columbine. “Most merciful of all mice and…”

“IF…” Columbine continued, “you start acting a little more responsibly and stop taking so many risks. There are creatures here who depend on you. I depend on you. I couldn’t stand it if something happened….”

Martin watched the scene play out with a relative amount of indifference. The way Gonff and Columbine moved, the way they spoke, the way they touched each other, it was all too familiar, but at the same time foreign. He knew he should have felt something, but nothing revealed itself. There was only emptiness.

With the argument resolved, Martin and Gonff continued to the meeting room. Columbine promised to bring a tray of scones and tea, provided that Gonff promised not to scoff it all down.

“Have you ever known a lady who just..?” Gonff sighed. “I wouldn’t trade her for all the loot in Kotir.”

“Once, but she…we couldn’t be together. And after her, no other could compare.” For a brief instant, something sparked within Martin, but then it was gone. “Let’s get to the meeting room.”

The meeting chamber was, more or less, a small library with an uncomfortably large table jammed inside. Within short order, the room was filled with a handful of creatures. Martin was properly introduced to Skipper, Bella of Brockhall, the squirrelchief Lady Amber, and Germaine, Abbess of the wandering healer-mice.

It had been ages since Martin had lived with creatures other than the mice, hedgehogs, and moles of Noonvale, so being seated next to Bella the badger made him feel like a small dibbun again. She probably could have swatted him across the room if she had the mind to.

“Martin,” Bella began, “Gonff has said that you are an alchemist of unusual skill. He’s described something I would believe to be impossible. Is it true what he says, that you can transmute without…”

Martin clapped his paws together in a circle and pressed them down on either side of the tin cup he had been drinking from. A small light flashed and the drinking vessel rearranged itself into the shape of the tree, a perfect replica of the real tree which towered somewhere above their heads.

The creatures seated around the table gasped and murmured.

“I have seen only one other creature able to do something of this nature,” Bella spoke. “The cat. But even she still needs the runes on her arms to create and destroy. How do you manage to do this?”

“I made some…unwise decisions when conducting a transmutation,” Martin said, being intentionally vague. “As a result of my actions, my abilities to transmute were altered.”

Bella eyed Martin suspiciously, unconvinced he was telling the whole truth. “The cat and her family have plagued this land for many seasons. Her sire, Verdauga, entered into this land and declared himself ruler. He was harsh, but mostly reasonable. Nevertheless, the creatures of Mossflower were not satisfied to live in his grasp, and they rebelled. Despite their superior numbers, the rebels were quickly subdued by Tsarmina’s alchemy. All the rebels were rounded up and hauled into the castle. None of them have been seen since.

“With the rebellion crushed, the iron grip of Verdauga continued until several seasons ago, when both he and his son died unexpectedly. Many of us believe Tsarmina poisoned them. The reign of Verdauga was bad, but compared to Tsarmina, he was kind and generous. Creatures are arrested and imprisoned for the slightest offences. They are often never seen again. We fear that they are the subjects of some terrible experiment being carried out.

“It now falls to us to break the grasp of Tsarmina, but with her alchemy as well as her army, she is a fearsome opponent.

“We have few among us capable of the transmuting arts, and even fewer who can effectively apply it in combat. You clearly have no desire to serve the wildcat. Would you fight with us so that we may rid our land of her?”

Martin adjusted himself in his chair and sighed. “I do sympathize with your cause, but I have my own goals that I am pursuing. Maybe when I have accomplished what I’ve set out to do, I can return and offer some assistance, but for now, my own aims must come first.”

The assembled creatures shifted around. Many of them were clearly disappointed.

“Very well, Martin,” Bella said, her voice tinged with disappointment. “You are free to do as you please, though any help you can offer would be appreciated.”

“Is it alchemic knowledge that you seek?” a small voice said from Bella’s other side. The elderly Abbess Germaine, who had remained quiet until now, addressed Martin. “Alchemists’ problems are usually tangled up in alchemy.”

“It is,” Martin acknowledged. “Though I prefer to keep it private.”

“And so you may,” Germaine responded. “There is a great store of Alchemy texts within Kotir. We here have but a few notes salvaged from our former home. Were you to help us, all of the information taken by the Greeneyes would be yours.”

“It is a tempting offer,” Martin said, “but I’m not sure if…”

“You may think about it as long as you like,” Germaine told him. “The cat isn’t going anywhere.”

The meeting adjourned and Martin sat alone at the table, considering his options. The library of Kotir might have the information he needed to find or construct a Philosopher’s Stone, but if it didn’t he would be wasting valuable time. The creatures here were so kind, but…Martin groaned as some feeling sparked inside of him.

“Martin, may I talk with you?” Germaine approached him.

“Is there something else you wanted to ask of me?”

“Yes, there is. Who was it you were trying to bring back and what price did truth extract from you?”

Martin sat in stunned silence.

“And don’t bother lying to me, young mouse. I’ll know.”

“How do you know about truth?”

“When you get to be as old as I am, you read about many things. Some of them things that nobeast should know. Now, to my questions.”

“Her name was Rose.” Martin was surprised at himself for giving up his secrets so willingly. “I…we were…it’s my fault she’s dead.”

Germaine nodded, understanding.

“Truth took my ability to feel love and erased it from my memories, but it will be worth it if I can find a way to bring her back.”

Germaine took her walking stick and rapped Martin on the head with it.

“Ouch!”

“For someone who has studied so much you are awfully stupid.”

“Are you saying it’s impossible?! I refuse to accept that!”

“I have no idea, young mouse. I never dared to delve that far into these matters. This is the work of evil beasts that good-hearted creatures ought never to know. It breaks the very fabric of Nature and goes against life itself.”

“But with a Philosopher’s Stone...”

“I know nothing of such things!”

The conversation would have become even more heated had a commotion not broken out in the passageway outside. Martin poked his head out and saw Gonff sprinting by.

“Gonff, what’s happening?”

“The otters’ camp along the river is being attacked, but it’s not soldiers, it’s some sort of monsters!”

A light touch on Martin’s shoulder brought his attention back to Germaine. “I know nothing of the Philosopher’s Stone, but I do know who might. Help defend against these mysterious attackers and I will tell you what I know. Consider it an equivalent exchange.”

Information on the Philosopher’s Stone. It was too important to pass by. Sprinting down the passageway, Martin called out for Gonff to show him the way to the camp.

The dark of the forest would have been difficult for most creatures to navigate at night, but Gonff seemed to know every root and rock that could trip an unsuspecting beast.

Martin heard the sounds of combat long before they reached the camp. Judging by the roars and screams, the initial report had been correct. Camp Willow was under attack by monsters.

Crouching down on the side of the river opposite the camp, Martin and Gonff quickly surveyed the situation. On land, a large, primitive looking creature was tearing through the dens, crushing any who stood in its way or attempted to fight it. In the river, a smaller black shape was darting around, attacking any of the otters who attempted to escape through the water.

“Chimeras,” Martin muttered to himself. The principles of merging multiple forms of life into a single being had not interested Martin, so he had only read a small amount on the subject.

Next to him, Gonff sat perfectly still, his eyes wide in horror and his mouth held shut by his own paws, likely to keep himself from screaming.

Shaking him, Martin brought the Mousethief back to his senses. “Do you recognize those things?”

Through his trembling, Gonff managed to speak. “They were only supposed to be rumors. Tales spread by the guards to frighten the rebels. The Wearet and the Gloomer.”

From what Martin remembered about chimeric transmutations, he believed it was likely that the creatures he was seeing were once soldiers of Tsarmina, either convicted of a crime or picked at random to be part of her experiments.

“But no one has made a sentient chimera that lived more than a few days,” Martin thought to himself. “Tsarmina couldn’t possibly have made these unless…” the truth dawned upon him, “…unless she had a Philosopher’s Stone. If she has a Stone, then I won’t even need Kotir’s library.”

Energized by his realization, Martin slammed his hands together and flung himself into battle, roaring like a mad-beast.

Attempting to swim across the river would have been time consuming, not to mention dangerous with the chimera called Gloomer lurking beneath the surface. Solving both problems at once, Martin froze a large section of the river, temporarily immobilizing Gloomer as he slid over to the opposite bank.

The Wearet creature carried no weapons, but it was still managing to wreak havoc on the campsite. The bodies of the otters unfortunate enough to get caught in its grasp lay broken on the riverbank. The Wearet was facing away from Martin as he approached.

Leaping into the air, Martin aimed a flying kick on the chimera’s back. His footpaw impacted soundly on the Wearet’s spine, but the massive creature was unphased. The Wearet roared and swung at Martin, who quickly dodged out of range and pressed his paws to the ground, transmuting blocks of earth around the Wearet, immobilizing him. Now held within sturdy bonds, Martin had the chance to get a good look at the chimera. It was many times Martin’s height and had limbs like tree-trunks. The creature’s head was terrible to look at. He had no visible ears and hardly any neck. Drool constantly leaked from around his oversized fangs.

“Kind of an ugly fella’, aren’t you?” Martin taunted. “Lack of brains as well.”

Whether or not the chimera acted in response to his words or not was a mystery. Regardless, the Wearet strained against his earthy prison. Cracks started to form and clumps of dirt and rock began dropping away.

“Dammit,” Martin muttered, readying himself for battle again. “He’s stronger than I thought.”

Breaking free from its prison, the Wearet grabbed ahold of a log that was nearly as tall as itself. With seemingly little effort, the Wearet slammed his improvised club down at Martin again and again, who barely managed to evade the strikes. Transmuting a pillar of earth, he pushed himself away from the Wearet and into the trees. The chimera roared and began to throw anything that came to paw at him.

In the temporary safety of the trees, Martin was joined by a squirrel who Martin assumed was from the advance guard coming from Brockhall. His gloves had alchemic circles stitched into the palms.

“Keeping it busy I see,” the squirrel commented. “Have any plan to kill this thing?”

“I’m not trying to kill it, I’m trying to contain it,” Martin explained. “I’d like to study both of them.”

“Contain that thing?” the squirrel looked at Martin like he was mad. “You’re crazy!”

“I could learn a lot by studying them, but I need them alive, at least right away.”

“We’ll compromise. You can have the small one.”

In no mood to argue with remnants of the camp whizzing by his head, Martin decided to go along with the squirrel’s request. “Give me your dagger and canteen.”

The squirrel handed the items over, uncertain what Martin planned to do with them.

Martin first took the dagger and carved a transmutation circle on the canteen. “The moment I drop from this tree, activate the circle and throw it as hard as you can toward the Wearet’s head. Got it?”

The squirrel nodded. Martin took a moment to prepare himself. He placed the dagger between his palms and rearranged the metal so that the weapon was now one long spike. He made sure the squirrel was ready and dropped to the ground.

Several things happened in short order. The Wearet noticed the annoying little mouse was no longer hiding in the trees. The squirrel did as Martin said and began transmuting the flask before throwing it at the Wearet. When the flask was mere inches from the Wearet’s head, it exploded, sending out metal shards amidst a cloud of steam. The circle that Martin had carved in it had transmuted the water inside to steam, raising the pressure inside to the point of an explosion. Both the flying metal shards and the steam served to blind and confuse the Wearet. It swiped blindly around in a predictable manner, giving Martin an opening. He dodged around the Wearet’s swinging limbs and leapt at it, driving the metal spike into the side of its head until the entire thing had penetrated the Wearet’s skull.

The Wearet howled and screamed before collapsing to the ground, never to move again.

Martin approached the corpse and placed his paws on it. “Best to be sure,” he said to himself. A quick transmutation blasted a fist-sized hole in the Wearet’s chest, right where its heart would be.

By the time Martin had finished off the Wearet, the Gloomer had broken free of its icy prison and was ready to cause more carnage. Crawling around in the shallows, it occasionally surfaced to hiss and scream in Martin’s direction. It refused to come on land. The thing looked like it had once been a rat, but it was now entirely black with sightless eyes. It also lacked any sign of fur. Webbing between its toes made it an agile swimmer.

Martin had already devised a plan for capturing it. The sand of the river-bottom was easily malleable with alchemy, and the addition of water made it heavy. Transmuting the sand into the form of a giant claw, Martin forced the Gloomer out of the water and held it securely over the shore.

The Gloomer shook and shrieked in its confinement, struggling to get free.

“Let me get a look at you,” Martin said to the Gloomer, stepping forward to more closely examine it. There were few specific details he could tell about the chimera’s construction in the dark of the night, standing on a riverbank, but he could see that highly advanced and dangerous alchemy had been employed to form the creature. “I’ll have to get a proper cage set up so I can examine you properly.”

The rest of the militia from Brockhall arrived later. They looked relieved to see their work had already been done for them. Gonff appeared afterward, keeping a good distance between himself and the Gloomer.

Skipper was also among the group. He approached Martin, inspecting the chimera. “What exactly do you plan to do with that thing?”

“I doubt you lot would want this back at Brockhall. If you know of a nearby cave or some unused hut I can set up a decent lab and…”

Martin was cut off by a loud crack. He and Skipper were then showered with blood and bits of bone. Something had caused the Gloomer’s head to burst from the inside.

Unperturbed, Martin rushed to inspect the corpse. “Interesting,” he muttered. “There must have been some security measures included in the transmutation to prevent capture or examination. You best get everybeast back to Brockhall,” Martin told Skipper. “Tsarmina will not be pleased when she realizes her pets won’t be coming home.”

The return trip to Brockhall was a somber one. The dead at the camp had quickly been laid to rest. The survivors had packed up whatever belongings remained and abandoned their homes. By the time everybeast reached Brockhall, it was nearly morning.

After cleaning himself of the blood and bits of flesh, Martin sought out Abbess Germaine to collect what he was owed. He found her in one of the small side-rooms. Bella was sitting with her.

“Abbess,” Martin greeted her, “I believe you have some information for me.”

Germaine took her time, sipping down some tea and finishing a scone before answering.

“Bella,” Germaine said to her friend, “tell Martin about your father.”

“This is why you asked for me at such an early hour?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important, would I?” Germaine chided.

“I suppose not, and would I be correct in assuming that Martin is more interested in his private affairs than, say, his favorite kind of tea?”

“You would.”

Bella sighed and leaned back into a well-cushioned armchair. “My father, known as Boar, was a gifted alchemist, just like many of his line have been. He was constantly working on project after project. He often lost himself in his work, forgetting to eat and sleep for days at a time. It was hard living with him, but he was a good father nonetheless.”

“This is very interesting,” Martin interrupted, “but this doesn’t seem to have much to do with the Philosopher’s Stone. Germaine said you knew about it.”

“Actually, I believe I said I knew who might know about it. You need to pay more attention, young mouse. And be patient. Bella has more to say.”

Martin fell silent and listened as Bella continued her story.

“The Philosopher’s Stone was indeed one of the things my father was interested in, and before you ask, no, I don’t know how they are made or how they work or where to find one. Before he left Mossflower, I know that my father was deep into his research of the Philosopher’s Stone. His workshop was covered with drawings and figures that I couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of.”

“One day, I came home to find my father was gone. He had taken most of his notes with him and destroyed what he couldn’t. The only thing he left was a note, telling me he would most likely not be returning and that he had gone west.”

“Why west?” Martin asked.

“You must understand, I truly know very little of such things, but from what I remember of my father’s teaching, there is a place far to the west, a mountain by the sea that is said to be the ancestral home of alchemy and transmutation. I suspect that he went there to continue his research of the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Then that is where I must go! Do you have a map or directions on how to get there?”

“Can you not stay and aid us against Tsarmina?” Germaine asked, almost pleading. “You may not like what answers you find…”

“But they are answers I must find. Besides, those monsters attacking Camp Willow were chimeras, powerful creatures made by alchemy. Up until now, only chimeras made using lesser creatures have ever survived for more than a few days. I strongly suspect that Tsarmina made the Wearet and the Gloomer using a Philosopher’s Stone. With that kind of power at her disposal, defeating her may be impossible, not unless we can find or make a stone of our own. If you want me to help, than I must first go west and learn what Boar has discovered. When that happens, I promise I will return to your aid.”

Bella stood up from her chair. “Very well, Martin, but I’m afraid I have no map to give you. Though the existence of a mountain on the western coast is hardly a secret, the alchemical research that goes on there likely is, so few depictions of the mountain or the lands surrounding it have ever been made, and most of them are probably at the mountain itself.”

“Then I will follow the river until it runs into the sea. A single mountain on the coast shouldn’t be too hard to spot. I will spend today resting and preparing for my journey. Tomorrow, I will begin my journey westward.”

“Alone?” Bella questioned. “It is a long way to the coast, Martin. You have no idea what danger you will be facing.”

“Which is why I must go alone. No one else will die for me.”

End Part 2

#redwall #redwall fanfiction #broken wings #redwall fma

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be-the-script · 7 years

Text

The preposterous adventures of Agust D the mermaid hunter and his half-lamb half-cookie companion Jeon Jungkook, including the stories of the prince of the air searching for his wings and how the Yin and the Yang found their balance

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Chapter 2/10: Got you!

Word Count: 1,110

Summary: the mermaid finally makes his apparition! But will everything go smoothly for Agust D and Jungkook?

After replacing the bills in Agust D's little purse with the delicious smell of lamb skewers, the two guys headed to the seafront. Away from crowded beaches, they found a little cove surrounded by black rocks, with shingles covering the ground and translucent water.

After parking the Snail by the roadside, they approached the sea. There was absolutely no one. This place would be a good start. Jungkook entered the water to his knees and Agust D hid among the rocks, after explaining the younger one he had to wait for the mermaid to come by itself.

Hours passed and it seemed like Agust D's incredible luck had suddenly run out. They gave up a bit before the sunset and headed back to the Snail to eat and sleep. Jungkook didn't even try to hide he didn't like Estrella and Miguel but Agust D couldn't care any less about what the kid thought of his friends.

The next day was as unsuccessful as the one before. They decided they would try one last time tomorrow before moving to another place.

It was the middle of the afternoon. Jungkook was eating a peanut butter toast while walking aimlessly in the water. He didn't notice the shadow approaching him until it actually jumped on him and suddenly he had a creature in his arms, looking at him with a joyful face.

"So cute!!" The creature exclaimed.

Jungkook had a mermaid in his arms. A real mermaid with a muscular torso, tanned skin scattered with emerald scales shining under the bright summer sun and three gills on each side of the neck. It also had bright yellow eyes with reptilian pupils which were absorbing all of Jungkook's attention by their intensity. When it smiled, several little pointy teeth appeared between its plump pink lips.

Both were entranced by the other's appearance until a whistle made the mermaid look away. It tried to get away from Jungkook but the boy held on tight.

"I captured you! You're not going anywhere!"

The mermaid looked at him with an unimpressed face. Before Jungkook had the time to do anything, a powerful move from the fishtail was pushing him away and the mermaid was free.

"I'd like to play with you more~ But I've got more urgent matters for now." It said before going back to the ocean.

On the beach, Agust D was dumbfounded. That mermaid looked completely different from Ponyo.

Jungkook went back to him, lost in his thoughts, probably still under the charm of the creature…

"I need to get stronger, I'm not letting that fish insult me ever again."

… Or not.

Agust D was suddenly jolted awake. It took him a good minute to get used to the light because when he tried to rub his eyes he realized he was tied up to a chair. He looked around him, he was still in the Snail and he could even see the slice of pizza he wanted to eat for dinner on the table.

All of that was probably a prank from Jungkook. The little rascal had come while Agust D was setting the table - the pizza for him and cereals with milk for the kid, as well as a slice of bread. But while the older had been expecting a peaceful dinner between the two of them, Jungkook had gulped his portion down and had gone back outside, to work out he had said. But that was probably a lie so he could come back, hit Agust D and then tie him up. That little prankster he swears…

Hunger took him away from his reflections. He hadn't eaten since yesterday after all and judging by the light, it was early in the morning. He started looking around him and noticed a blade on the console table nearby. After quite a lot of moves and some difficulties, he was finally free.

But as eating alone was a sign of a pitiful man, he invited Miguel to join him. Miguel was always a good company after all. The time for Miguel to settle, Agust D put a bottle and a red cup on the table for him.

The beginner mermaid hunter ate his cold pizza and looked through the window. That's when he discovered the unstable sensation he had since he had woken up wasn't dizziness but the Snail actually moving. Damn kid, so that's why he had tied him, so he could do what had been strictly forbidden to him: drive the precious Snail.

With a sigh, he pushed the empty plate and grabbed the paper on which his plan was written:

Find a kid: done

Find a mermaid: done

Capture the mermaid: status unknown

Give the mermaid to rich Mr. Bang: need the mermaid for that

Go to Kumamon annual concert in Kumamoto: soon

Oh, yeah, they were there to capture a mermaid. He should go ask Jungkook what was the current status of things. It was hard to believe everything was going according to his plan for now.

Miguel made him notice he should tidy up a bit. The table in the living room had been pushed to the side so he could be put there instead when he was tied up to the chair. That was not the place for the table. He had to put the table back. He stumbled a bit, the Snail swaying a lot, but he eventually succeeded in putting everything to its right place.

He was a bit angry by now, Jungkook was really a bad driver, he had to tell him. He headed toward the door, only to discover it was locked. Without any patience left, he kicked the wood that cracked open, letting warm sunlight enter the shell of the Snail.

He climbed on the rooftop and headed carefully toward the head. He took a pause midway and sat on the edge of the rooftop. It was the first time he could do that. It was kind of funny actually. He looked toward the front and noticed they were about to leave the highway. He didn't know for how long they had been driving but it was time to stop. He finished his trip to the front and slowly peeked through the driver window, only to find two unknown faces. Who were those guys and why was one driving his Snail?? Agust D didn't like thieves so he knocked on the window to explain to the guy the Snail was actually his.

What he didn't expect was for the guy to get extremely scared and to throw the Snail in the middle of a crossroad where cars were passing…

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#bts fanfic #Agust D #jungkook #Jimin #bts comedy #bts parody #crack #I think that story is really good #but I also think my writing skills can't do it justice for now

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