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tarabyte3 · 1 year

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I Want You to Show Me Weak

Fandom: Andor

Pairing: Kino Loy/F!Reader

Chapter 3/27 (2.7k words)

->start at chapter 1<-

<- Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 ->

Summary: You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

Warnings: Explicit rating, Smut, Prison, Prison sex, minor non-graphic injuries, Dom/Sub, sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, light choking, unprotected sex, oral, angst

A/N: If you wanted Dom Kino on top of dirty talk Kino, boy do I have some good news for you 😌 Work title is from "Poison" by Vaults. Chapter title is from "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak.

AO3 Link

Chapter 3 - What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

During your shift the next day, your hand hurts, but it's functional. It does slow you down, though, because you can't move it as well as you usually do. Alis is kind enough to help you out since he was already faster than you before you injured yourself. Now he's doing his job and nearly half of yours. You owe him big time.

But Kino's "not officially" comment is still rattling around in your skull. You're new enough that maybe you've missed something. So you ask your table if there are any unofficial rules you should know about. If anyone has more context for whatever the fuck yesterday was, outside of the whole…incident, it will be them. Because so far, the only actual rules you've been given are to do your work, keep up, don't get fried, and don't cause problems. If you do cause problems, take them to Kino. "Problems" appears to be the key word there. Covers all manner of sins.

Threl seems relieved that it sounds like you're trying to make an effort to stay out of trouble, bless his heart. He gives you a whole list of shower and tool etiquette, a lecture on respecting communal and private spaces like the cells, and what not to do during quiet hours. Which all seem like basic common sense to you because you know all of that already. You do all of it. But he says nothing about sex, possibly because he doesn't want to bring up sex to the only woman in the unit. Or the rules don't exist.

"What about fooling around?"

Jevid leans forward so he can be heard over the noise on the floor and his large belly presses against the table. "You really think Kino lets people get away with rough housing at all? You should know that better than anyone with how often you get your ass chewed."

"Once for rough housing, if I recall." Alis grins.

"Oh my god, you've all been in here far too long. No, I mean what about sex?"

They all stop, hands hovering over tools and parts, and turn almost as a group to look at you. There's an equal mix of confusion from the three younger men and concern from the three older men staring at you from around the table.

"What?? Why are you all staring at me?"

"What about it?" Alis asks with a furrowed brow, as if your question doesn't make any sense. "Sex is a pretty big topic, you're gonna want to narrow that down for us."

"Are there any rules about sex?"

They all glance around at each other, as though someone in the pod has the answers and will explain what is happening to the rest of them. Jevid clicks his tongue thoughtfully in the empty space where a tooth should be.

"Jeez, you guys are acting like I just mentioned the rancor in the room."

"That's because no one talks about it, duh." Taybus rolls his eyes at you. "You think we all walk around talking about how much we're getting laid? Or that we're getting laid at all?"

"Okay fine, how about this. Are there any rules forbidding sex? Because I'm one woman in here with forty nine men. I think my chances are a little better than yours."

"Oh my god." Sorrek sounds like someone is strangling him.

"Fine, forty eight. Happy?"

"No," Sorrek whimpers.

"Forty seven, sorry kid. Don't swing that way," Threl laughs.

You look at him in pleasant surprise. "Yeah? Well damn, Threl. Then you and I both have forty seven more chances than these fools."

"Forty six," Jevid grumbles. "I'm way too old for this bullshit."

"Fair enough, Jev." You glance at Taybus and grimace. "Let's just cut it down to forty five."

"Oh, fuck you!" He attempts to look angry, but he's trying not to laugh.

Alis, however, is fully shaking with laughter as he slides a part into place. "Woman, if you can find a way to have sex in here or get any privacy, then be my guest. Good for you, in fact. I got your high-five right here." He holds up his hand. "Most of us just…take care of it ourselves." He then waves his still raised hand around. Sorrek protests next to him. His face and ears have been turning dangerously red the entire conversation.

"Oh, and I don't?" You smirk. There is a mixture of groans and snorts in response, except Sorrek, who finally puts his head into his hands.

"But no," Alis adds, "there's no rules or anything. Just be respectful and don't get caught, you know?"

"Why, you see someone you fancy?" Taybus wags his eyebrows at you suggestively.

You have to fight not to glance over and look for Kino, and you tell yourself it's just because that weird interaction in the locker room is what led to this conversation. Not because you're attracted to him. Definitely not that.

"In this lot?" You snort. "Hardly."

"Why else would you be asking?" Taybus is grinning at you now, like he's caught on to something interesting. "You totally do. Who is it?!"

"That's enough," Threl sighs. "Did we not learn any lessons from yesterday? Let's focus."

Taybus ignores him. "It's Vage at table 1, isn't it? I saw him checking you out once."

"Nope. Don't worry, I won't steal your boyfriend." You wink at him.

Taybus flips you off from across the table. You go to return the rude gesture, when there's a hand on your shoulder. You jump and turn to see Kino standing next to you. He has a fake smile on his face. The kind he gets when he's pissed, but he wants to make a point first.

"I see we're all taking our jobs very seriously over here at table 7 today. So seriously that you're in," he pauses to check his data pad and several men at the table wince, "last place! Which puts our shift in fifth. So I have to wonder what is more fascinating than work?"

You start to say "nothing," but to your horror, Taybus butts in with, "She's got a boyfriend."

The panic washes over you and you sputter, "No I don't!' You glance at Kino in fear, but he just gives you an intrigued stare. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's amused, even. "He's just kidding." And you don't know why you feel it's so important Kino knows that. The man could probably not care less. He does hate you, after all.

"But you asked about sex." Taybus continues, knowing damn well he should shut his mouth, but is unable to resist the opportunity to distress you further. Probably as payback for excluding him from the list. You feel your face burning with embarrassment. You suddenly wish the ground would open up, swallow you whole, and spit you out into the ocean.

"No! I didn't!" Even though you absolutely did. You just don't want Kino to know you're sniffing around after what he said to you. What will he think? Probably that you're trying to find a new way to piss him off. But he's been standing there the entire time, watching your face. Intently taking in every flash of horror and mortification.

Threl uncomfortably clears his throat.

"Enough," Kino finally growls out to the table. "Your numbers better be up by the time I come back around, got it?"

There is an off beat chorus of "Yes, Kino." He turns to look directly at you, waiting expectantly.

You squirm, and give a belated, low, "Yes, Kino."

"Good." There's a slight, pleased twitch in his eyebrow as he stares you down. He looks back around the table. "Unless you're looking forward to frying in ten hours, get to work!"

He finally removes his hand from your shoulder and stalks off. You hadn't realized it had been there the whole time. You glance at the spot he touched you without thinking about what you're doing because, now that it's gone, you can feel his absence and the thought makes your chest flutter.

"Way to go, you pissed him off again."

You quickly look up at the table, like you've been caught doing something you aren't supposed to. "Shut the fuck up, Taybus, and hand me the wrench or I swear to every god that will listen that I will smother you in the shower."

"And you'd deserve it, too." Alis says next to you. "Man, what's wrong with you? Bringing up her sex life to Kino? No wonder you aren't getting laid." The two begin to bicker as you all get back to work.

Jevid gives an annoyed grunt and checks his panel. However, you notice Threl and Sorrek eyeing you suspiciously. And you really hope they aren't going to corner you and bring this up again later.

They absolutely corner you and bring it up again later.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Threl crosses his arms and Sorrek looks apologetic next to him, but doesn't move. You're blocked in by the dads.

"Not really." You huff. "It's not your business and I'm far too old for the talk, guys! Come on." You give them a pleading look, hoping they'll drop it.

"It's my business if you get yourself in trouble again! They're gonna kick your ass out to some place worse than this if you keep it up." Threl sounds angry, and you feel bad that you somehow managed to stress him out this much.

"We're just worried about you. That's all this is." Sorrek gives you a kind smile. Aha, you think, the good dad, bad dad routine. You're annoyed that it's working.

"I know you are." You can't help but smile back at him, damnit. "Honestly, guys, there's nothing to worry about. Yesterday when he was patching me up, Kino asked about how I was doing and if…and if anyone had been…inappropriate to me." You wince a little because you didn't want Kino's name to be connected to this conversation at all, just in case one of them was too perceptive for their own good. "It just got me thinking. I wasn't sure what the expectations are about that stuff. Figured I may as well find out. Just in case…you know." Sorrek suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting because he can no longer meet your eyes. "That's all there is to it. Promise."

"So there isn't anyone…?" Threl trails off, letting the question hang between you.

"No. I have no prospects. There's no one throwing themselves at the pariah."

Threl's posture relaxes and he shakes his head. "Okay. Fair enough. Just be careful." Then he surprises you by giving you a mischievous grin. "I think you'd be surprised if you actually paid attention. But good luck, I've been trying to get some in here for years."

At that, Sorrek finally excuses himself with a scandalized look. You let him go and quickly turn on Threl for more details because you haven't gotten the chance to talk about it yet. The two of you gossip about who is hot or not in the corner until it's time to line up. You specifically don't mention how weird things with Kino are getting because you don't think he can handle that yet. And you aren't even sure what the fuck is going on or if you can handle it yet.

When you catch Threl and Kino talking the next day after shift, you swear it isn't on purpose. You're heading out from the showers and you overhear Threl's unmistakable deep voice from around the corner, which catches your attention. The voice that answers him is gruff and low. You'd also recognize that voice anywhere. Especially when it's saying your name. So you stop by the doorway and listen.

"Just promise me you didn't chew her ass out afterwards," Threl pleads. He sounds tired, like they've had this conversation before.

"I promise I didn't yell at her," Kino sighs, and you can feel his irritation from there. "Not that she didn't deserve it."

"You don't have to tell me. I don't know how she keeps shoving her foot in her mouth, but she's a good kid—"

"She's an adult, Threl. You're not that much older than her—"

"—and she's good at the job." Threl ignores him and pushes on. "You and I know it's more than just the work, too. It's how you work. She keeps up with Taybus and keeps him in line, and you know how hard that used to be." Kino grunts in response and you smirk at the floor. Because you'd really love to rub Taybus's face in that. "Edii loves having her there." Okay, at that you're a little surprised because you didn't think Edii has ever expressed a like or dislike for anything other than Taybus. "He's almost relaxed, Kino. He smiles now. Not often, but I know you can see the difference—"

"Yeah, I see it," Kino growls.

"—Hell, I really like her, she gets along great with Alis and Jevid, and Sorrek adores her."

There's a pause in their conversation where you begin to reflect on everything Threl just said because you hadn't thought of yourself as good for your table at all. You can be obnoxious and disruptive, and you keep getting in trouble. You don't know how any of them manage to like you despite that. Then Kino's voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know. She could get by in here just fine if she would just think before she speaks. Or acts, apparently." You can tell he's annoyed. Which annoys you, even though you can't really blame him.

"I know she's a lot. But she isn't going to learn just because you yell at her."

"I've already figured that out, too," he huffs.

"You have, huh?" You can hear the smile in Threl's tone.

"I know what she needs." There's a confidence to that simple statement that sends a rush through you. Because what the fuck does that mean?

"What does that mean?" Threl warily echoes your unvoiced question.

"Nothing. Look, I just need you to trust me." That is the closest to begging you've ever heard Kino Loy get. "Especially when it comes to her."

You really wish you could see their faces right now. Especially Kino's because your brain is in overdrive trying to work through his words like it's a code or puzzle. Why does he have to be so mysterious and unreadable all of the time?

"Alright. I trust you, Kino. You know I do."

"Good. Now I have to go do a sweep of the showers. I'll see you later."

You jump up in panic and scramble to get away from the doorway. You can't imagine how pissed Kino will be if he catches you eavesdropping. It isn't until you're trying to act natural, and Kino is turning the corner, that you realize you were so focused on not getting caught that you forgot you're only in a towel. He stops the second he sees you and stares at you in surprise. You stare back at him.

"Hi!" You wince because there was way too much enthusiasm in your voice. So much for acting natural.

He doesn't respond. But his eyes drop away from your face and slowly glance over your towel wrapped body. It's slow enough that it's obvious what he's doing. It's slow enough that you feel like he's absorbing every inch of you. Memorizing you. And you let him because it never occurs to you that you can stop him or leave. That you have any other choice but to let him.

Because maybe you want him to.

Because maybe, if you were a braver woman, you would remove your towel and let him look even more and see if you can crack his stony expression. Or beckon him to you and let him remove it himself.

"Are you done in here?" His indifferent voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You're disturbed because where the fuck did that come from? Also, how is he so unaffected? He checked you out and now he's just, what, standing there like nothing happened?

Maybe he didn't see anything he likes, you think. And why does that thought bother you so much?

"Yeah, sorry." You hunch in on yourself, holding your towel to your chest, and you run out, giving him a wide berth. You know with absolute certainty that you're not actually leaving, but are, in fact, running away.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#andor fanfic #andor #kino loy #kino loy x reader #kino loy x f!reader #i want you to show me weak fic #fanfiction

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy Three

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 30th, 2001

“You boys have a lot of explaining to do!” Grace snapped at Emile and Remy the second they walked in the apartment building.

“What? Why?” Emile asked. “Everything okay, Grace?”

“There was a woman screaming for the two of you all day on Thanksgiving,” Grace said with a scowl. “I couldn’t get a wink of sleep that morning.”

Remy paled but Emile just grabbed Remy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t realize that woman might come looking for us while we were out of town, but I should have.”

Remy was trembling as Grace muttered a dark, “Don’t let it happen again,” walking away.

“Should we file a restraining order?” Emile muttered to Remy.

“Maybe we should just move,” Remy mumbled back.

October 16th, 2002

Remy stared at the ceiling of the bedroom, eyes wide open and mind racing. Emile was curled into his side, sleeping soundly, but Remy couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. He glanced at the clock and watched the seconds tick by for a while, before turning to look at his boyfriend. Emile looked so at peace, and it made Remy a little jealous. He had a small nightmare about his mother and now he couldn’t get back to sleep.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Remy made his way out of the bed without waking up Emile, and padded out to the living room. He glanced outside the windows, just to make sure his mother wasn’t around, and let out a low breath. He was being ridiculous, of course his mother wouldn’t be here. She had gotten the message to leave him alone for the time being, and she hadn’t been back here since...the holidays, where Emile and Remy had been visiting Emile’s family anyway.

Remy moved away from the windows and to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He felt wide awake, but he knew he needed at least a little sleep if he wanted to be functional at work later today...tomorrow? No, later today, it was past midnight.

Drinking the water down, Remy wandered over to the couch after putting the glass in the sink, and curled up on a corner of the couch, grabbing a book to read. The visibility wasn’t great, but there was just enough light through the windows that Remy could read the words on the page.

As he read, he could feel his nerves calming little by little, and the next thing he knew, he could hear snickering above him. He blinked blearily to find it was the early morning, and Emile was standing over him, staring at him with both amusement and bemusement warring on his face. “Comfy?” Emile asked.

Remy stretched and groaned. “Not really,” he said. “But I couldn’t sleep.”

Emile frowned. “What woke you up?”

“I dreamt about my mother again,” Remy sighed. “She had come back here, with Toby in tow, and the two of them were arguing that I should leave you and come ‘back home.’ And I know Toby would never do that in real life, because he cares about me too much, but the scary thing was that my mother could very well do that. And sure, we dodged her last holidays, but what about this year? We’re not heading to your family’s place, we agreed.”

Emile frowned. “I mean, if she shows up we can call the cops,” he said simply. “I know that’s not super comforting, but I’ve been planning to ask you something anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any.”

“Okay...?” Remy asked. A pit of dread was building in his stomach that he couldn’t explain.

“Would you want to move someplace bigger? With more space?” Emile asked. “Obviously, it wouldn’t be right away. But sometime soon. Would that help you sleep easier?”

“I...” Remy was embarrassed at his answer. “Yeah, probably...”

“No shame in that. We can look at townhouses in the area and see if anything jumps out at us,” Emile said with an easy shrug. “Maybe move after the new year.”

“And we wouldn’t have to pay rent anymore, just a mortgage,” Remy said with a small, wry smile.

“Pretty much!” Emile chirped. “Now, I think you need some coffee in your system, and I know you need a shower, so how about we start getting ready for the day and continue this talk when we don’t have to worry about me getting to classes and you getting to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Remy said, holding his hands up in surrender and heading to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. “One quick question, though: how much of the mortgage, in theory, would I be able to cover? Because I can cover half of the rent just fine, but a house is gonna be more expensive.”

“Honest answer?” Emile asked. “I don’t know. It’s gonna depend on the house we get, and the loans we get to get the house.”

Remy pulled a face. “Great. I don’t want you paying for the whole thing, Emile, that’s just not fair!”

“Relax, Rem. I could pay the mortgage and you could pay the bills, if that makes you feel a little more even,” Emile said. “But we’re in this together for the long haul. I don’t mind paying more of the mortgage than you, when it’s pretty clear we’re going to be staying together for a long time, if not, you know, the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, God, the rest of our lives,” Remy laughed. “That’s honestly a scary thought.”

“Why?” Emile asked. “I just assumed that was what we’d do?”

“No, no, it’s what I assume, too,” Remy rushed to assure. “I just...don’t really think about what that means too much, and when I do, it scares me. Not the thought of ‘tying myself down’ to one person, or whatever crap straight people say about getting married, but...the prospect of that not actually happening. What would happen if we didn’t stay together forever.”

“Well, if we both assume that we’re going to stay together, then there’s no worries,” Emile said. “Because I don’t want to leave you and you don’t want to leave me. So neither of us will be forced to leave.”

“I...guess so...” Remy said slowly.

“But if it’s a scary thought, I don’t want to force you to think about it,” Emile waved off. “And you still need to shower before your coffee is ready.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile but went to take a shower. Internally, his mind was reeling, trying to put pieces of this puzzle together. Remy didn’t want to leave Emile, and Emile didn’t want to leave Remy. The fear of them not being together one day was unfounded, so why was he so scared?

As he stepped into the shower spray, Remy hummed and felt his muscles relax. It was a good question. Was it because that while they would stay together, it wasn’t technically permanent? They couldn’t get married, because no one would marry two men to each other. But you didn’t need the promise of marriage to love someone, right? Right. But...love wasn’t permanent, was it? Someone could say they loved someone and then turn around and dump them on the spot just because the spark wasn’t there anymore.

Emile and Remy had worked hard to make sure their sparks turned into a fireplace that kept going even when they couldn’t constantly tend to it, though, didn’t they? They had worked hard at their love. And yet Remy was still scared of losing Emile. Why?

Well...Toby and Remy loved each other as brothers. They had been inseparable for a long time. And now neither knew where the other one was. Remy had thought Vanessa had loved him, until she went off to college. And if he really wanted to go digging deep...Mom always said she loved him and then would turn around and act like he didn’t exist if he did something she didn’t like. Heaven forbid he break one of the rules, too. Then he’d get punished and have his mom say it was “for his own good” and that she loved him still. People in his life who said that they loved him no matter what were rarely telling the truth.

...That was depressing. But it also explained a lot. Remy nearly jumped out of the shower as soon as he was done, hollering, “Hey, Emile! I know where all my commitment issues stem from now!”

Emile opened the door to the bathroom just as Remy was wrapping a towel around his waist and Remy yipped. “Hey! No! Door closed!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Emile exclaimed, closing the door.

Remy walked out, dirty clothes in hand as he huffed. “There’s this great new thing called ‘knocking,’” he quipped.

“We’ve seen each other in less, I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Emile sighed, following Remy into the bedroom as Remy tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and got new ones out. “Where do your commitment issues stem from?”

“Big shocker, you’re never gonna guess,” Remy said drily, facing away from Emile as he changed and said, “It’s my family. All of ‘em.”

“Wait. Even Toby?” Emile asked, and he sounded genuinely shocked.

“Well, Toby is a reason, but he’s not the reason,” Remy said. “He’s just...one nail in the coffin. But Vanessa said she loved me until she went off to college. Toby said he loved me and he’d never lose touch with me and then we did. And my mother said she loved me all the time and then turned around and treated me like something to be scraped off her shoe and discarded. I’ve never really had a steady sense of being loved in my life. So when someone says they love me forever, my brain says they don’t really mean forever, and I wait for them to drop me like everyone else always had.”

Emile stared at Remy in shock. “That is horrifying and insightful at the same time,” he said simply.

Remy shrugged and walked to the kitchen getting his morning coffee with a happy sigh. “Yeah. But I know the reason, so hopefully I can work past it now, you know?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Emile said. “That’s good. Tangentially related to that: would you ever want to get married to me?”

“If it was legal, yeah,” Remy said. “Sort of cements the idea that we would never leave each other into place. Why?”

“Because I might be low-key planning a wedding to invite all of your family to and promptly assassinate them,” Emile said simply.

Remy laughed. “I know you’re serious, Emile, but please don’t actually kill them? I don’t want to marry you only for you to spend life in prison.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll spare them for you,” Emile said simply. “But just say the word and they’re dead.”

Remy laughed more and Emile actually cracked a smile, which, considering their current topic of discussion, was surprising. “All seriousness, though,” Emile said. “You would marry me?”

“Emile, I’d propose to you if I knew there was a chance we could get married legally,” Remy said simply. “There’s no chance right now so I’m not planning on saving up for a ring, but that doesn’t mean I won’t in the future.”

“And that doesn’t scare you?” Emile asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it terrifies me,” Remy said. “But I know the ‘why’ so we can work on it together. And once we have the chance to marry each other, I’ll have that existential crisis. For now, I’m just happy getting to be your boyfriend.”

Emile offered Remy a smile. “You know, when we first met I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be caught dead calling anyone your boyfriend, even if you said you were gay.”

“Well, I would have seen it as a safety issue, especially if that guy wasn’t out to everyone yet,” Remy said simply. “But I’m learning that here is safe. And that’s a good thing, you know? I won’t immediately die if I say I’m attracted to someone.”

“Always a plus,” Emile said. “So. We get a house, we hopefully get engaged and we get married when it’s legal, anything else we should plan for?”

“Should we plan for one of your sperm donor kids showing up at our door?” Remy asked.

Emile burst out laughing. “I don’t think so. The chances of anyone using that sample are so small that the chances of them existing, let alone existing in a bad home life seem infinitesimal.”

“Okay, so house, engagement, marriage. Maybe my own shop. Anything else?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged. “Me kissing you within the next five minutes?”

Remy grinned. “Only if you’re willing to stand my coffee breath.”

Emile laughed and gave Remy a long, loving kiss. “Somehow, I don’t mind,” he murmured.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 3 years

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Episode 42 Review: Here Goes Peter Cottontail

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 | 3 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

At last, we’ve hit another milestone on Strange Paradise. A little less than a year ago, I discussed the third and final costumed flashback. Just under six months ago, we reached Episode 30, the first episode for which conclusive proof of executive meddling exists. And today we shall explore the introductory episode of a character particularly notorious among Strange Paradise fans. That’s right: this episode features the first appearance of the infamous Rabbit of Evil. The true face of evil has arrived on Maljardin, and it's soft with long ears and a fuzzy tail.

Because the plot has now split off completely from the Lost Episode summaries and I’ve already discussed the one for this episode, I’m going to ignore it for this post. I’m not even going to do much analysis this time. Instead, let us just lay out our beach towels on Maljardin, relax, and bask in the glow of the coming insanity.

Early morning on Maljardin. The unseen clock chimes three, and already Jean Paul Desmond is up sitting on the couch in the Great Hall next to the decanter of his favorite drink. Although it is the demon hour and almost everyone else in the château is asleep as far as he knows, he is already dressed in his brown velvet jacket, as one does when one is the richest man in the world on the coldest tropical island in existence. One would assume that he would at least loosen his tie to make himself a little more comfortable, but then, I’m not a fancy rich guy living in the 1960s, so what would I know?

Feeling the presence of his demonic ancestor Jacques Eloi des Mondes, he stands up and approaches his portrait as though in a trance. During their brief staring contest, Jacques begins to taunt him: “Come now, Jean Paul Desmond. Three o'clock in the morning and still you wander the house. Why?”

“Because your evil wanders here, Jacques Eloi des Mondes!” Jean Paul answers overly dramatically. “I sum-”

“Jean Paul, no oaths on your honor that you would be compelled to uphold. It might be the end of us both. And Erica might never rise to a new beginning.”

Jacques tells Jean Paul to go to bed because *he’s* tired. Could this be evidence that Jacques and Jean Paul are one and the same?

I like the way that Raxl's face appears on the screen just as the title card is fading.

Raxl paying her respects to Erica Desmond.

We cut to Raxl visiting Erica’s cryocapsule, when suddenly a little cockatiel starts tweeting. And who could it be but our mascot, the adorable Chalcko?

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<3

Quito checking on his beloved bird.

Meanwhile, Jean Paul visits the lab to find Dr. Alison Carr sleeping at her desk, Dr. Menkin’s notes next to her:

For the love of yourself, Jean Paul, do not disturb!

He wakes her up despite it being very early in the morning (because God forbid she not sleep in her own bed, I guess?). Really, there are only a handful of good excuses to wake someone up at 3 AM, including to ensure they catch an early flight and to kick them out of your bar after they passed out drunk with their glass shattered into a million pieces in front of the talking portrait across the room. Having fallen asleep at one’s desk while pulling an all-nighter that your employer deems unnecessary isn’t one of them, IMO. But, just like my cat who wakes me up around 3 almost every night crying for a midnight snack, he gets away with it because he’s cute.

Jacques has made cat-like faces before on this show, so now it’s Jean Paul’s turn to act like a cat.

That’s not to say that Jean Paul’s cuteness makes Alison any less annoyed with him. He asks her why she stayed up so late to study the notes, and she responds, “I can't sleep very well, anyway, and what else is there to do, since you keep us here as prisoners on this Island? Good night and please don't disturb anything.“ She leaves and he starts flipping through the notes.

Meanwhile, outside among the suspiciously Canadian coniferous trees of Maljardin...

Wait for it...

Quito finds a big, fluffy black rabbit hopping around the garden and brings the adorable, plump creature inside. His crush Holly happens to be in the Great Hall when he returns, and she falls in love with the rabbit at first sight.

“I didn't know anything as wholesome and innocent like that existed on Maljardin,” she coos. "Oh, he's so sweet! I haven't seen anything like him for--well, it seems like a whole lifetime.”

Then she remembers what Raxl said about there being no wild animal life on the island. “But Quito,” she says, “Raxl said like, nothing like this could exist on this island for three hundred years! I guess this little fellow disproves that, doesn't it?”

“What are you going to do with it?” she continues. “I mean, are you going to keep it?” Quito shakes his head. “You should. You should keep it for a pet. He’d make a lovely pet, something nice in this house of accident and death.” Because Quito is reluctant to keep the rabbit and has no way of expressing why to Holly, she offers to keep it as a pet.

“I wonder how he managed out there with all that poisonous undergrowth around?” she thinks out loud, as the rabbit starts to try to jump out of Kurt Schiegl’s arms, which I doubt was in the script. The rabbit they got to play the new embodiment of evil on Maljardin doesn’t always want to behave the way the plot demands. I suspect that, instead of getting a trained animal actor, someone just brought in their pet or bought a bunny on short notice at an Ottawa pet store or nearby farm. I like the rabbit. The rabbit does what it wants and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about following the script or doing what Jerry Layton wants it to.

Holly asks Quito to make her a cage so that she can keep the rabbit in her room, and he nods in agreement (I’m guessing just because he knows it’ll please her). He leaves. She sits down at the dining room table and rings for Raxl, who is not pleased when she tells her about the new guest:

Holly: "Hey, Raxl." Raxl: "Good morning, Miss Holly." Holly: "You know, everything I've heard about this island isn't the truth." Raxl: "Truth is a matter of seeing." Holly: "Well, I've seen. You told me that because of the curse, nothing could exist outside in that poisonous jungle." Raxl: "The Devil's evil is everywhere on Maljardin!"

Holly: "Well, just this once, Raxl, you may be wrong." Raxl: "It may be that demon wants you to think I am!"

Raxl instantly suspects that the rabbit is a tool of THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES.

The bit about all the plants being poisonous on Maljardin, by the way, may be a retcon. In Episode 13, Jacques mentions that papayas are native to the island. I suppose that, because he didn’t say that they were picked on Maljardin, that they could have been grown on another island. Still, I’m not ruling out the possibility of Ian Martin and/or a ghostwriter retconning this detail.

This scene is followed by a cool shot where the camera pans along the side of the staircase and over to Jacques’ portrait (see the beginning of Part 2), then a short scene of Quito pulling out a huge wicker picnic basket for a makeshift cage while Chalcko tweets as though trying to warn him of the evil presence.

In the morning, Alison returns to the lab to find Jean Paul in a scandalous state of undress:

Ye gods! He took off his suit jacket again! I am SHOCKED and SCANDALIZED by this wanton display of nudity! ;)

Jean Paul must be even more stressed now than last night if he not only has his suit jacket off, but has also loosened his tie. Turns out he ended up pulling an all-nighter himself in the lab reading the notes, even though Alison doubts that he possesses the necessary knowledge to understand notes about cellular reconstruction. Jean Paul asks Alison if Dr. Menkin did any experiments on animals, but it’s not clear if he’s asking just out of curiosity, because of something mentioned in the notes, or if somehow he feels the presence of the rabbit despite not having seen it yet. Whatever his motivation, the screenwriter almost certainly added the line to imply that the rabbit may have belonged to Dr. Menkin.

Using such a line as a hint (or, more likely, as a red herring) is a very Ian Martin thing to do, so I’m thinking that he must have written this scene. For a while, I suspected that perhaps some ghostwriter hired by either Jerry Layton or Steve Krantz inserted the scenes with the rabbit into a later draft, but now I’m having second thoughts. While it is possible that one of the showrunners hired a ghostwriter to speed up the script edits, this line has Martin’s influence written all over it. The insertion of the evil rabbit isn’t his style, but this kind of dialogue certainly is.

Also note that the very next shot is of the rabbit again.

Hearing the bird tweet is making Quito anxious. It’s obvious that the bird detects some sort of presence.

Jean Paul and Alison go to the dining room and sit down for breakfast with Holly. Jean Paul reminds her that another séance is coming and she tells him that she wants no part of it. “The spirits will decide that, and the Conjure Woman,” says Raxl.

“Vangie said that the conjure cards--the Tarot cards--spoke to one person,” Jean Paul adds, flubbing his line adorably. “They may well speak to another, for or against.” I’m not sure what he’s implying, especially because he faces Alison (or maybe the Teleprompter) as he delivers the line.

More proof that Maljardin is no tropical paradise, but a dystopia. (”Rattled” = “Raxl’s”)

Alison tells Holly that Jean Paul will probably blame them if the séance doesn’t bring him into contact with Erica and Jean Paul glares at her before flouncing passive-aggressively. I’m so conflicted about Jean Paul at this point because he’s becoming more and more of a control freak (and therefore more and more unlikeable), and yet he’s so adorable. Take a look at the face he makes just before flouncing:

Foxy!

And this shot of him from earlier in the scene:

Never have I seen any guy look this cute after pulling an all-nighter.

Holly tells Alison about the rabbit Quito bought brought her (yes, there’s another creative line interpretation). “That’s impossible!” she replies, stunned. “I mean, nothing alive exists out there now.” There are so many flubs in this episode that it makes me wonder if the actors had less time to rehearse than usual.

An unspecified amount of time later, Alison catches Jean Paul arguing with Jacques’ portrait, then Quito feeds the rabbit a carrot to the sound of more tweets. (Anyone else miss the days when “tweets” referred only to the noise that birds make? God, I'm barely 28 and already I feel so old.) Alison warns Jean Paul that dabbling in the occult is bad for his mental health, but he doesn’t care because he needs to hear Erica’s voice so badly. He tells her he’ll buy her some animals for her experiments the next time he visits the main island just to shut her up. (Spoiler: He won’t.)

And then Quito arrives, carrying the rabbit in its makeshift cage. Like Raxl, Jean Paul is not pleased to see the animal. “Holly, where on Earth did you get that!” he asks.

“Right on this Earth, on this island, from Quito,” she responds innocently.

Jean Paul giving his best “WTF” face. He’s lived on the island long enough to know that the rabbit came out of nowhere.

He asks Raxl about it and she cries out to the Great Serpent to tell her what the Devil’s plans are for Maljardin, making the Sign of the Great Serpent with her hands. Alison insists that the rabbit is only an animal, but Raxl reminds her that no animals can survive outside on the island--meaning, by her logic, that it must be a demon or similar evil being!

Jean Paul asks Quito where he found the rabbit. Raxl interprets the signs he makes as meaning “on the path to the boathouse,” which leads Holly and Alison to think that the rabbit must have snuck aboard Quito’s boat and sailed there with him. Raxl’s response?

Raxl: “It is a creature of the Devil!”

Holly objects and insists that the rabbit is only an animal, but Raxl sticks to her belief that it’s actually a demon assuming the guise of innocence, most likely sent by THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES himself! No one believes her, not even Jean Paul:

Jean Paul: "I must admit, Raxl, this is very unlikely." Raxl: "Not here. An animal here is an impossibility. Is that not true?" Jean Paul: "Until now, yes!" Raxl: "Then what force altered the impossible? There are forces at work on Maljardin as the hour draws near when the master will attend a séance and seek through purified mind and cleansed spirit to reach his Erica beyond the veiled curtain. What does the master say?"

Jean Paul does not respond. He looks like he is about to cry.

Raxl: "Quito! You will remove the rabbit. It is evil!"

Raxl: "It brings danger and wickedness and more evil than we will ever know! It must be destroyed and buried in the sea!"

Raxl: "If the master wishes to contact his Erica and hear her voice, he will be advised: that animal is evil!" Holly: "Mr. Desmond, please, no!"

Jacques’ commentary.

Coming up next: Raxl makes a horrifying--and mystifying--discovery when she examines the Rabbit of Evil.

{ <- Previous: Episode 41 || Next: Episode 43 -> }

#strange paradise #now an even stranger paradise #review #ian martin #maljardin arc #week 9 #episode 42 #analysis #chalcko (quito's bird)#colin fox in shirtsleeves #costumes #creative line interpretation #passive aggressive jean paul #rabbit of evil #retcon #scene transitions #scenery chewing #sign of the great serpent #note to self: find a recipe for papayas with lime juice and post it

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dokuhebi · 4 years

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Shatteredxlookingxglass asked: For the Phobia prompts... Atychiphobia: My muse comforts yours after a (real or perceived) failure. -OR- Dipsophobia: Our muses drinking together. ~~ Dan @shatteredxlookingxglass

Phobia Drabble Prompts Atychiphobia: My muse comforts yours after a (real or perceived) failure. / Dipsophobia: Our muses drinking together. // @shatteredxlookingxglass The trees groan miserably as the deployed team pushes through thick and damp terrain. Familiar grounds branching off in to something far less known and safe. The forests surrounding Fire Country carried the risks of enemy shinobi, treacherous elements and beasts large enough to treat these expanding sequoia trees as little more than twigs beneath clawed or scaled feet. Unknown grounds or not however, as the group leaves behind the routes they have all explored throughout childhood, there is still one very familiar aspect to this. Danger itself. There is nothing new about the perceived sensation of a reaper tailing the group, waiting to find out which Leaf shinobi would be picked off first to be dragged to some unseen beyond. Despite this graveness however, life continues to exist rather peacefully until chaos ensues. The greeting from a small rodent that scurries past, the ever pleasant and charming songs from the birds calling one another in the trees above. One particular little song, causing the viper to travel back in time in their own mind.

“Why is she in a trap Taichou?” they are only eight years old, trained and talented enough to be deployed in to these lethal woods, with nothing more than a team captain as their guide. Their golden eyes are upon the small songbird, looking frantic in its prison, as the team captain stages another trap beside the one it is now ensnared in. It’s calls, pretty as they are, strike the child as a little sad. “She’s bait,” the man replies curtly, focused more on his task than the childs curiosities. Because food rations were now diminished, and he had a squad of shinobi relying on his lead. “But why do you want to lure a predator?” they ask again, childlike innocence compelling them to open her trap up for her release. As easy as coaxing a butterfly from a spiders web. Of course then, as Sensei had once told them, the spider would starve. Today, if they are analyzing their captains work correctly, it would be their team that starved. Although after meeting the birds eyes, the serpentine child has decided they very much wouldn’t be bothered skipping a meal on this evening. “I’m not baiting a predator. I’m baiting her mate.” That was the final answer the captain gave, and a firm lesson the child could not shake even in to adulthood. The little bird, clueless to its fate and the one awaiting its partner, would relentlessly call. And it would be the bond between two life mates that caused both to perish. Because hunters knew to exploit nature at ever turn. Because if one bird was caught, it would forever sing a song of rescue to its counterpart, and without fail, that counterpart would place fears aside to seek the other out. Be it a parent coming to a child, siblings, mates or cherished companions, care would be the catalyst. A jaded tale of love, if ever there were one. And while watching the songbird wailing in hope its partner would come, as if the other bird would ever be any help, the child watches with a little morbid criticism; stop calling, you’ll only get them killed.

On this mission, with Dan taking the position of team captain, a job that both offered honor to those who succeeded in missions or stripped it bare from those who failed, the serpent would once more encounter this lesson. This time however, they would be the foolish one who lured someone they cared for to harm. Ignorant to the fact that the danger they placed themself in, could so easily be translated over to a burden for someone else. Or so they would pretend. Dan had placed his team in a functioning order, but the serpent would break from it. Pretending that amid this plan, an error was made where they could not properly take up the position they ought to. Pretending they had needed to improvise when something went wrong. It would be a purposefully made miscalculation on their part, knowing that Dan was never oblivious to them, knowing they could not escape the eyes of a trained Kato. In fact, they were betting on it. Within a few moments of intentional grave error, the serpent is well aware that they have walked in to a trap. One they admittedly would have survived with or without outside help. But only they know about their own ability to survive this without aid, and they would not need to prove this knowing their comrade wouldn’t be taking such a chance. Dan would arrive at their defense to mitigate the damage, he would arrive to ensure the vipers safety, as the two make quick work of the enemy forces. But the serpents action of drawing Dan away from his own position meant there were other casualties. Meant the part of the team abandoned faced another downfall. A downfall the serpent had calculated too, and found no sure way to avoid. They should have told Dan what they had sighted, they should have mentioned the inevitable loss. That was what a captain relied on, the honesty of the team, the cooperation of being a multi shinobi force. Orochimaru however, had feared Dan would ally with his team in the same fashion he had allied with the serpent in the heart of such danger. They were afraid, that he may meet the same fate. It is why they keep it to themself, why they can not bring themself to risk his life for the lives of those they barely know. It is also why, however, Dan ends up taking the brunt of failure. Why he is accused of losing a team, failing an assignment, and left with the mountain heavy guilt of that ‘fact’. Not a fact at all of course, if one knew there was a betrayal on the team. A betrayal due to something as innocent as a well formed bond - now, in the serpents experience, was that not merely nature at its most honest? They had on this night, been the little bird singing it’s companion in to death like a siren might. They were, and remain completely aware of it, the one who is the cause for the mans lowered morale and mood. The real culprit of failure. So it is perhaps, the least the can do to try help Dan drown away his sorrows for the evening. Why, on the sleepless night the two return home, they find themselves still clad in blood stained uniforms, hidden only by the dark cloaks that had shielded them from the outside weather, at the only open bar. These are times of war. Nobody notices the flash of a crimson stain, nobody asks whether or not someone has had too much to drink or not. They sit beside him, knowing they should be feeling remorse for their hand in this. That his guilt is a burden they chose to give him, feeling it a better consequence than death. “The only thing that is not blue these days is the sky,” they mutter to him, observing the way the strong sake swirls at the bottom of their cup. Warranting a refill. Their golden eyes glance over to the man, offering the support a close companion ought to, company and agreement that life was just as insufferable as their currently downed comrade felt it was. Even if, at heart, they were simply relieved he had made it out in one piece. Even if his failure reflected in his eyes like broken glass. A little more sharp than broken perhaps. “We should just be glad it wasn’t you, or me,” they continue in the honesty of any shinobi who was both tipsy and well aware the man they spoke to was likely drunk enough to not remember what was being said, “places speak the names of everyone we know after all. I bet neither of us would ever sit at this bar again if the other died.” Because they have watched the way the dull but warm bar lights play tricks on the mans moon coloured hair, the way those same lights hit is ocean eyes. The way he takes up the space of the bar stool he sits upon, the way his frame blocks out the other patrons, shields them without thought from the room they prefer not mingling with, from the chilled breeze that threatens to crawl in from the open door. And they know, if that seat were ever empty, because the gods forbid something happened to him, they would certainly be unable to take their own seat ever again. It is when they catch the way the glass moves unsteadily in his hand, not curiously motivated so much as a result of impaired mobility, that they slip from their bar stool and settle the tab. Again - the least they could do. “That’s enough for tonight,” they mutter, more to themself than Dan, who was either saying something too drunk for them to understand, or else, was saying something perfectly comprehensible, but the serpent themself was the one too drunk to comprehend it. Whichever way it was, the midnight haired shinobi had decided the two have done enough poisoning for one night. Their own abode was closer, even if it did require a clumsy ascent up three sets of stairs. They keep a slim arm around the small of his back as they clamber up, once more unsure of whether their smaller form is giving him any support, or whether he is merely offering it to them. They had spent many nights interrupting his peaceful nights with their ideas. Entering with some new conclusion or finding, talking in their quiet but evidently enthusiastic manner, eventually succumbing to fatigue and falling asleep upon the very couch he offered them. Where the man would without fail find a blanket to draw over the serpent, daring not to interrupt the rare sleep they had managed. Tonight however, after fumbling with their locks, they would be the one to return that favor. Guiding him to their couch, helping him sit down and then eventually, covering him with a blanket after the polite effort of removing his shoes, cloak and flak jacket. Words are unspoken however, or perhaps only half spoken. They wonder if he knows them well enough. Did he hear it amid the rest of their ramblings? Did he hear it in their actions and behaviours? Did he hear it in their relief? Their excuses? Their every reaction - even their silence? ──── ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ Their svelte form sits in the gap left on the couch beside his abdomen, moving a strand of pale hair to investigate a gash on his forehead. Determining whether the cleaning could be left until morning, as to leave his sleep undisturbed. Finally determining that it could. It is not the only thought running through their mind however. They had made quite the promise to themself after all, one where they would not form attachments to people who were so fragile. Where they would not create a bond of any sort, when the human life was a fragile little flame so destined to burn out. But now they had. Now they couldn’t say him leaving would have no profound impact on them as a person. And now, the only question they can both morbidly and fondly ask themself, as if looking back in to the eyes of that ensnared songbird, was who would be the death of the other first.

#毒蛇 IMMORTAL; the curse is broken (post war)#why not both 8)#for the sake of me lacking impulse control #shatteredxlookingxglass #/long post #蛇 QUEUE; lie to the liars; steal from the thieves

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heartedlystyled · 4 years

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Abu's friend asked Abu to ask me if i would be comfortable to wear Hindu with a Burka.

I'm not huge on burkas because i get the got breath back and im already always hot anyways.

But his friend, Abu said that he found interesting that Hindu is a combination of my usual need for bling combined with Islam dress.

I said i would look for an appropriate outfit in Hindu wear to see if i would he comfortable in Hindu wear...

Its the land of the free, I can wear what i want...

Then we can across the girl on the left and he said "you already kind of dress that way anyways and your daughter, too!"

And i do... In NYC we had friends that were India Hindu, Americans, US military and we played with their kids... And i remember the grandma always seemed to open the door and she always wore the red dot on her forehead. She would stab it to make it upraised with a little needle and she would re tattoo it like every week or So...

It looked like a felt dot glued securely to her forehead.

And she often wore pink and green with gold sequin trim And she was always sewing.

So somehow as an adult, i began dressing my infant daughter that way as i always wore pants or ankle length dresses/skirts... Younger i would wear above the knee with panty hose... But longer meant more freedom like no pantyhose or having to shave above the mid calf... Just in case...

With my infant i would put a cute dress on her with jeans because she would get cold... Cause she couldn't keep socks on and the jeans would cover her feet...

Then as she got older wanting her comfortable to play like a boy but in a dress had me to put leggings on her...

Then for me cause i got excessively fat, I didn't feel comfortable in a shorter dress or skirt... So i also wear pants.

But I do wear spaghetti straps or strapless... Because i like it. It still covers my books so..

And I can understand going to the movies with Abu and his single friend and his friend asking me to wear a bit more than normal...

Its not against me at all.., its about respecting his friend Abu... Like he isn't all trying to be looking at me because hes just sitting and zoning into space... Or because he is looking at me and talking...

Like to go on double dates or in a group and the girls have to wear a certain way... I don't mind to change it up a little so they feel more comfortable... Im not afraid of being shunned.. Abu will ditch them in the parking lot.

Its about supporting a culture, friendship and family.

So if i wear a zebra print burka with pink highlights... Its not the same as Islam dress.. Yet... I'm still making an effort to appease a religious belief that i don't necessarily agree with...

That said I'm not into a burka... But something similar that's sheerer so i sont get too hot... Something similar to what some Hindu wear for special ceremonies.

Growing up in a melting pot of Earth... In NYC we spent A lot of nights sleeping in the Hindu's living room floor in piles of pillows and blankets and pizza. Chips and dip and soda, veggie plate me and gramma shared and the boys had to eat one of...

And we would watch 1 American movie like Ghost Busters or whatever was new and all the Hindu/India movies we wanted. A

Often times they weren't subtitled or in English. But we would watch and the gramma or the dad (they didn't have a nom either) would explain what was happening... A lot of times the boys would go out with my brothers and i would stay inside with the gramma and watch movies and ask her what they said, why their faces changed

Because the boys would understand the scene and they would make part of the movie themselves, like the TV extended to the living room floor and they would pantomime and act out and joke around about what they would do if they were there in the movie scene.

Usually I just watched... And handed supplies... The back drop wall flower watching the people I loved changing the movie scene they would want to have included in the movie each time we watched it...

I loved it

But i also wanted to know what we didn't see. What we missed by living. I wanted to see what was on the other side of the screen that wasn't paid attention to on those fun nights.

Gramma had difficulty with English and expression and sometimes she got embarrassed if it was a romantic scene... So i would go to the TV and point to the people and tell her what i thought they were doing in each scene.

So essentially while my own mother had been killed in front of me and all i could remember of her existence was blood splashing on the brown living room curtains...

This kind Hindu old lady without a daughter in law of her own that died in childbirth, delivering at home and only had grandsons... Taught me about life, relationships, life events, life expectations and expectancy.

I would skip school a lot to go hang out with her... Just not even go. She would open the door to let the boys out and see me and ask "school?" And i would shake my head no "not today"

Eventually my dad asked me why i hadn't been and told them i had to go to school... I would just sit outside her door all day until she went to laundry after lunch and thn i would follow her around the laundry mat downstairs in our apartment building.

So then she got to,walking us all to school... But she said it took too long,to,return home So she would ride her bike in the afternoon, tie it up to the bike rack and then walk us home... In the morning she would walk us to school and she would ride her bike home.

In the 4th grade my class had a window she would pass by to go to the bike rack and i would stand up and wait to see her go by.

She changed. She became leaner and softer and happier. She would let her hair down when she rode by on her bike. Literally letting it flow down behind her, for like miles... Then she would pin it right back up in a Chinese pin she called it.

She taught me about life. About living. And about surviving when even you yourself have no reason for continuing.

And although I was breaking the rules and she knew... She wouldn't let me in the house as she promised but if i helped her fold the laundry as she directed and helped her to twke them from rhe cart and hand the baskets to her frim the doorway she would tell me "you help me, i help you. Here is food" and she would give me lunch and a drink. And she would sometimes sit in the hallway floor with me and talk to me about the movie we watched AFTER school was let over and the boys were home. As my dad had said i could.

To me she wasn't an old lady with a red dot and Hindu clothing.

She was my very dear friend. Very close to my heart. To me, She had no age. She was as young as me, sometimes even younger but smarter. She told me all kinds of stories about her life in India, her son's life... All her children, her husband.

For me i was always in awe, mouth dropped at her tales, they were so beautiful and made her face change dramatically with her huge smiles or her eyes turning round and filling with tears...

Remember how i wrote she had a red dot that looked like felt glued down?

It was

That's exactly what it was.

But one summer it kept falling off. The summer after 3rd grade. The boys would be loud so she would say let's to go outside in the hall and talk.

And i had already caused a huge thing at school, predicting my friend Rose's death and having PTSD, having my 3rd grade teacher arrested as she was from China and would hit us with rulers and make us kneel in rice and peas (she killed herself in prison, she had a 2 year sentence) and so me hanging out with a Hindu lady... It was another story, another event for my file.

I remember a rather large black man would sit around the corner and listen. But she would say "he is spy, i cannot continue talking. It is not Chinese. It is not bad. I di nit want to go in But i do not feel comfortable. You tell me now about you"

"No way! I hate this shit!" So i confronted him. Over and over. Until finally she giggled and told me "invite him to conversate. Tell him sit in floor, like man But be handsome. But not too sexy no no no. He probably married anyway and I'm too old. But please hurry. I'm i get nervous"

"Oh please! Don't tell me! You're too old! You already have kids! You can't date!" I said veey loudly as i walked to the corner "up get -- HEY GET BACK HERE!!! SHE WANTS YOU TO SIT AND CONVERSATE!! don't be a dummy come on" i caught him nearmy running to,the staircase.

"Do you know how old i am? I'm nearly 40! You can't talk to me like that!"

"I can. I just did. Now please sit. Would you like something to drink? I can get you some kool-aid"

"What's she drinking?"

"Its gin"

"I would like some, too"

"What's gin?"

"Just go"

Finally i found what i knew gin was and i handed him a deck of cards.

I learned her tricks... When she's annoyed or uncomfortable or suspicious, she flirts. She acts like he's all over her and she's all flat drunk out... Y'all have seen me do them. The unlucky fall for them.

But he didn't and she was drinking water.

And he told her my story. The stories i hid. The stories i wish never happened. The stories i forbid to be spoken around me.

And i tuned my back to,them so they could not see me,cry or push my migraines away. And it continued for days. And she ran out of tissues and i had to use toilet paper for my nose.

Then her red dot, the eye of the God ran began to fall off her face, everyday. She got new glue. Stronger glue. And it will still fall.

So shr asked him "what is this? Why this fall?"

He said "if you ask me, She loves you and now you know you know what love is and you don't need that to protect you anymore"

"It is not to protect but to see"

"To look for love that i know about you Hindu. That is all you speak To her about. Its love. That i do know and now you know her pain and how much she needs you. You understand --- is that all you do us cry?"

"She speaks"

"You know what i want you to do is get that tattooed but in blue. Next time I come to see you, I'll bring a book i have been studying and i will show you, its perfectly acceptable to get a tattoo of it on your face,but an any color. Because you know why you identify eith her -- i mean why you are both friends with each other, is because you are both sad"

"She sad. I'm sad. So now I'm friends? With her, a small child? I am odd duck"

"Now now don't you smile, Sabrina don't you laugh at the old lady!"

"Shes funny! She's not ducking she's brave! And she's small not odd and she's sweet and even,you like her! You tell her to,get tattoo! You're strange if at all!" I blurted out... The first time I talked in weeks, it felt... In reality only about 5 days.

And so long conversations short... She used a blue pen to draw a star... As he said she was my star, my human North star, to help me find the light in life and she had came to me when my life was most darkest And i was extremely suicidal and had been caught trying to drown myself like umpteen times... Cause i wanted to die outside because it felt better than dying inside all stuffy and around people like Denise. And i wanted to drown in the river but someone always saw me. 8 years old and all... I had my desires in how to die. I wasn't stupid or mindless.

He said she had been given red as her felt dot, from a priest, because she had felt love. Still knew love, still wanted love and Still believed in it and Still looked for it.

But he said that sometimes the dot could change. It could change shapes, sizes and colors. And he said if her brain leaked out, it didn't leak love, it leaked sadness. So thus her permanent eye of ra should be blue. A light color blue not too dark because she allowed light and happiness to shine thru the tears of her world.

And that was what she had taught me... Once I learned the videos then I would interact with the TV... And the boys would watch and then we would all play along with what was on the either side of the screen and i taught them what i had learned from Granny Hindu.

She would watch us and cry. The dad would watch in shock and awe as his sons were finally being taught their native tounge and important parts of the movie and ceremonies. Sometimes he would cry.

Eventually he began wearing his Hindu traditional wear and they would get up and dance the traditional Hindu dance and teach us while we the the pillows and blankets up on the couch. And we would laugh

Of course my back would hurt easily and the boys, because of the dad, all eventually would pick me up and dance with me like i was a doll, then supporting my small amount of bony weight with their arms.

And the dad would do the granny..,her feet dangling at his knees would make me,laugh so heartily!!

The boys wouldn't pick me up so high... Mostly I would lean on their shoulders or elbows...

And so granny settled on blood sweat and tears as she realized it wasn't happiness she knew best but sadness.

And she got a light blue tear in the middle of her forehead, tattooed. And she would wear a jewel over it, shaped like a tear, as beautiful as ever. But sometimes she wore a larger than in the past, red felt circle over it... "I looked for love and i found it and it hid all my tears"

So of course I would dress myself and child subconsciously in Hindu like garb. And of course I would wear it when out with people of Islamic culture.

The tattoo shop which had done her light blue tear, eye of Earth had also shown hwr how to hand poke tattoos as is conventional in her home country of India. Although she had her ra in a professional tattoo gun.

The government spy man had arranged it for her. He also came to our weekend slumber parties, some times falling asleep after a long hard work day on the couch like a child and we would give him a blanket we ha from out massive pile and cover him. I would say "heres you a blankey" and usually he would take the corner with his massive black hand or sometimes just sigh, inhale nd exhale deeply. Usually me and the boys took turns to cover him.

Little children covering an over 6 foot tall almost 40 year old man.... Ages from 5 to 10...

Because that is what love is.

Sometimes he would start breakfast... After the first dozen times escaping in the night after catching up with his zzz's and we told,him if he was gonna,crash the slumber party with his big body probably breaking the couch with all his long bones and muscles then he needed to crash all the way and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Cause that was the best and breakfast in bed... Or the pile of blankets an sheets nd pillows like a nest for baby birds as we called it. That was the best part. After waking up woth friends we loved and understood when we felt most misunderstood in the world. Them being Hindu with a gramma with a red dot the tattoo in the middle of her forehead totally misunderstood was she a witch? Crazy? How old was she? 40? 100? And then us, watching our mother murdered, barely being able to remember her or just being able to,watch the blood spray md wonder and,cry where was our lovely mother? And the puking. The days and night of puking and puking from fear, disgust, worry and sadness. And still death seemed to follow us everywhere no matter how we predicted it or didn't or wanted it or didn't. Cared or didn't. Prayed or didn't. It was just there. Always there.

And so he would stay... Did we find him in granny bed above the covers cuddling fully clothed once or twice? Yea. And we decided it was better than Saturday morning cartoons and so we all silently munched cereal and watched them, sitting in her bedroom floor doorway... Until we feared they were dead and then I would whisper hey and he would jump awake from laying on her shoulder or sometimes boob/rib or gramma Hindu would slowly open her eyes and be in her little dreamlike state and the first few times was innocent "hey there's a man in your bed. That isn't s pillow laying on you" we would whisper

But there was that one time... That one time that she fully seduced him like the prowling cougar she is and it was a whole different Saturday morning when she clutched the blanket to,her chest and said "YOU KIDS GET OUT!!"

And I not understanding cried at her "Why are you acting Chinese!?!?! I'm not getting out until you explain!!!"

So i had to be explained that he was in his boxers and had been under the covers and they didn't want all the kids to see their privacy

And i said "Fine! I'll get out! But that's gross!!!"

Because at 8 thats what i believed.

"And you should have made breakfast or i wouldn't had known!!" And i spun on my heel and threw my hair in his face.

And Alex asked me "what's going on? I mean with them?"

"I can't talk about it" heavy slumped shoulders, neck aching "let's just watch TV that's better" he bugged on and on until i covered my head to avoid him and fall back asleep

But when i woke he asked again and i told him "they had sex"

And he called me a liar and herded all the boys to go ask.

And then they called me back to,the room so we could get an explanation

And I said "i don't want to hear all this shit. I know the birds and the bees. In and out it goes"

But he tried to talk to us about love...

But Alex threw up..

Because our mother's murderer whom used a chainsaw to her neck while we were all assembled to watch... Then said that exact same thing and had added "want to watch" as he raped our mom's nearly decapitated body.

He was right. Sadness would always exist because of love.

Well us kids didn't care about two consenting adults with their heads fully attached.. Unfortunately her son did and he was really an ass hole. Only caring about himself and his feelings, then put in for a transfer to move across country to get his 60 year old cougar momma away from a early 40 year old kitten...

Destroying his son's lives in the process... And ours... And even his own happiness

Instead of allowing his mother freedom to love.

But before all this the young thug kitten only looking for one thing So said the father, an alley cat, he was allowed gramma Hindu to hand poke a tattoo on his right toe. An S. With an astrick just tucked inside the bottom tail.

"Samaria"

That was Grandma Hindus name.

She gave herself the one i drew above... An S for Sabrina for helping her find Samaria again And of course the S for herself as well.. And two stars... One for the one we could see in her in the bottom and the other to honor the stars she could see... And she told me one for me and one for her for our friendship. And the F next to Because they were so most important to her... The F did get bigger over time and eventually became the same,size as the S as her family evolved and changed...

I suppose the story is true. She handpoked white in the "standing leg" of the F to represent the Father, her son of the family in anger because of the move.

She could have stabbed him to death. I would not had blamed her.

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p-artsypants · 6 years

Text

Arcadia or Bust (8)

FF.net | AO3

“Hey, what’s something you don’t understand at all in the series?”

“The Heartstone and all that powers it.”

“Dopamine, you should write about it.”

“Yeah, that sounds like it won’t confuse anyone at all.”

Why do I do this to myself?

Also, I’ve been having a bad reaction to some medication, and I haven’t been writing as much as I want to. So chapters might be slow all around. Sorry in advance

—

Claire was asleep. It wasn’t very comfy sleeping in the back of the truck. But at least she had her pillow.

She was instantly awake when she heard Jim scream and a screech of tires.

Everything happened so fast. She slammed against the window, and then the ceiling, then the seat, over and over, feeling like a sock in a dryer. After a particularly nasty slam to the back window, she blacked out.

When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on the couch in her living room. That same dingy gray, dusty room she had seen before in her nightmares.

“Hello dear,” spoke a soft voice. “Quite the pickle we’re in this time, hmm?”

Claire sat up, looking at her. “Morgan? But…I was awake and then…”

“You’re hurt,” The woman said simply, “hit your pretty little head.”

“I—what about everyone else? What about Jim?! The truck! It rolled and—“

“Calm down,” Morgan said sagely, standing. “I can’t know everything. I only know of your condition. But it’s only a matter of time before we know of everyone else.”

“Is everyone okay?” Jim’s voice carried to her, sounding like a shout from outside.

“That was quite the rough ride…” Likewise, she heard Blinky out there too.

“Jim and Blinky are okay…” Claire breathed with a sigh.

“Claire! Merlin! Enrique!” Jim shouted again, sounding closer, louder.

“Ooof…” NotEnrique groaned, “I thought you said you could drive?”

Morgan smiled and waltzed over to the kitchen and put on the kettle. “Well, you’re not dead. But we can only hope that Merlin is.”

“I don’t understand. I’m…unconscious?”

“For the time being,” Morgan answered as she rifled through the cabinets.

“Claire!” Jim called again, “Claire! Talk to me honey!”

Claire smiled at the pet name, but she didn’t like the worry in his voice.

Morgana came and sat on her chair again. “I never got to mention, but I very much like the design of your house. Of course, I have made a few adjustments of my own, but it’s very nice. Much nicer then the cave that Merlin and I lived. Biscuit?”

Clair took the cookie hesitantly. “So…what? Am I supposed to just stay here for now?”

“Claire!” Human Jim burst into the room, a spectral form. His eyes wandered around.

“Do you mind not yelling? I’m very tired.”

Morgan frowned. “And, he survived. Great.”

Human Jim came to her, kneeling beside the couch. “Claire…” He whispered. “Oh god…”

Claire looked at Morgan. “Why am I seeing him as a human? He looked like that the last time I was here too.”

“You’re seeing his soul, Claire. Frankly, I’m amazed he’s even here in the first place. Since you haven’t been through a soul binding ceremony.” She scratched her chin. “Then again, if you really love each other…This could mean that you’re susceptible to a bind.”

“She’s alive, but unconscious.” He said, looking away from her.

Morgan continued. “Meaning that if a soul binding was performed, the chances of it working one hundred percent is high. Which means, it would be impossible to undo.”

Claire listened, but she was also fixated on Jim nearby. It had been so long since she saw him like this. This was the Jim she had fallen in love with. Not that she didn’t love the Troll version, on the contrary, his transformation was what pushed her to confessing to him. But there was something nostalgic about seeing him here like this.

“Shut your goddamn mouth!” He suddenly shouted, his spirit burning red. “Why can’t you just be helpful for once!?”

Morgan scoffed. “Merlin never changes. Just being a pain in the neck wherever he goes.”

The voices of the others didn’t seem to reach her any more. But Jim was still here, and every word he spoke was full of pain and worry.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen him this vulnerable before.” Claire commented, reaching out to touch him. “It’s…heartbreaking.”

“It’s admirable.” Said Morgan. “A man unafraid to show worry and concern over the woman he loves? A most honorable man, indeed. I’m surprised such a soul was chosen as a Trollhunter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every Trollhunter I’ve seen has forsaken their loved ones and pushed them away. Taking on their duties with a stoic demeanor. But Jim accepted help from those he cared about. That’s the mark of a strong and brave soul.”

“So…there’s nothing we can do?” Jim spoke, his shoulders heaving.

“Ah, I see.” Said Morgan with a nod.

“What?” Claire asked, worry in her voice.

“It seems like my connection on you is preventing Merlin from healing you.”

“Healing me? Am I hurt? I’m unconscious but…”

“I can’t tell how bad your condition is. But perhaps you will be unconscious for a while still. Heaven forbid you die.”

Claire tensed up, staring at Morgan in horror.

“Of course, I’d rather not let it come to that. You have work do to for the trolls.”

“Claire…please…please wake up. Don’t leave me…” Jim was sobbing, as he rested his head against the couch cushion. His hand was making gentle movements, and she realized he was petting her hair.

“Alright,” Morgan stated standing. “I suppose it’s up to me then. I need to take possession of your body again.”

“What?”

“I know what you’re thinking, but trust me. I can’t stay long, and I won’t hurt anyone.”

Claire looked down to the sobbing Jim. “Promise?”

“I swear to you, Claire Nuñez.”

Claire swallowed, and then nodded firmly.

—

Jim was leaning against the truck, his arm draped carefully around Claire as he carefully pressed her pillowcase on her wound. “Claire…please…please wake up. Don’t leave me…” He sobbed, feeling helpless. His human hand rested at the base of her neck on her chest, and he felt her pulse, her heart beating erratically.

“Master Jim…is there anything I can do?” Blinky asked, also feeling helpless. He had carefully cleaned the backseat of broken glass, so that Claire wouldn’t get hurt anymore.

“Do you know any first aid?”

Blinky frowned, “For humans, I am…less than helpful. I meant…perhaps laying out some blankets on the ground or something?”

“No, we can’t move her.” Then he offered a sad smile. “But thanks for trying.”

Suddenly, Claire’s eyes shot open, her pupils blown wide.

“Claire?!” Jim shouted, startled.

The girl shooed his hands away. “I would have thought you’d know better,” An ancient voice spoke, “little lamb.”

“Morgana.” Jim tried to keep the snarl back, but it came naturally.

“Please, compose yourself, Trollhunter. I mean you no harm.” She sat up fully and let her feet dangle outside of the vehicle.

“Please be careful,” Jim winced. “Claire’s hurt…”

“I feel her pain as my own,” said she. Then she bowed her head slightly, and spoke in a foreign tongue, “medeor...”

As she spoke, Claire’s body began to glow a soft yellow. She lifted from the seat of the truck and floated down to stand in front of Jim. The wound in her head closed, as the cracked skull knit back together. Once the glow faded, Claire’s knees buckled and she began to fall.

Jim caught her easily, wrapping an arm around her.

“My magic is weak,” said Morgana, not pushing away this time. “I used most of it to heal the most grievous wounds. I have but a few moments left, and I wish to have a word with you, Jim Lake.”

Jim looked over to Blinky, who shrugged.

Gently, Jim helped Claire back into the truck so that she could sit comfortably. Then he closed the door, for a slight amount of privacy. “Alright, um…what’s up?”

Morgana turned in her seat, glancing this way and that. When she spotted Merlin outside the truck, her nostrils flared in anger.

“Something wrong?”

“Simply a knee jerk reaction.” She exhaled, “Jim, you are special in many ways. The first human trollhunter, the first half-troll, the one to defeat Gunmar…but you are also the first trollhunter to absorb my essence. And by extension, I have stained you as well.”

Jim’s eyes widened as he cocked his eyebrow. “Um…?”

“This,” she touch his chest where his wound was. “…was supposed to be the killing blow. A crackling of my magic against Merlin’s should have destroyed you, right down to your very soul. But instead, you absorbed it, and took some of my magic for yourself.”

Jim touched his chest lightly where the crater remained.

“You’ll have to expel it, if you want the wound to heal.”

“And I suppose you want it back, don’t you?” Jim said with a little ‘hmph’. “You might have healed Claire, but I still don’t trust you.”

“I don’t expect you to,” agreed Morgana. “Nor do I need your trust, or that magic. But, I have a feeling it will come in handy later.” A sly smile came over her face. “There was another troll who absorbed my magic, you know.”

“Angor?”

At the name, Morgana seemed to wilt, ever so slightly. “Angor was enchanted by me…but no, it was Gunmar, he took my magic that laid in reserves. The magic that laid dormant in the earth and gave life to the trolls.”

“Wait wait wait!” Jim protested, “Are you saying that’s your magic in the heartstone?”

She smiled patiently. “An ancient reserve of magic sat under the earth for a millennia before Merlin and I even existed. This was the first Heartstone, the one that birthed Gunmar. This magic became my own, just as Daylight became Merlin’s. When I was imprisoned in that crystal in Trollmarket, that’s all it was. A solid prison, strong as diamond. But over time, my essence and being seeped into the stone and into the earth. It ran off in shoots and took on a mind of it’s own. Yes, Jim Lake, the heartstone and I are the same.”

Jim leaned back against the truck, digesting this information.

Morgan also relaxed, her head drooping on the seat. “My time is running out. So hear me carefully. If you wish to restore the heartstone in troll market to what it once was, make sure you and Claire are there to nurture it. Someday, the magic you absorbed will return to the stone on it’s own. But whatever you do…don’t let Merlin mess with it. No protective spells, nothing.” She closed her eyes. “He always killed my favorite roses.”

“Okay, thank you for the advice, I guess…” Jim sighed, feeling exhausted. “Morgana?”

There was no reply.

But a few minutes later, Claire’s chocolate eyes opened again. “Jim…?”

“Claire? Is it you this time?”

She smiled softly, “yeah, it’s me…sorry for the scare.”

She needn’t say anything else, as she was swiftly swept up into his arms, nearly crushed against him. He wept, “gods I thought I lost you…”

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck, combing her fingers through his hair.

“I love you so much…I’m glad you’re alright.”

She winced, “I’m glad you’re alright too.”

Jim heard her, and pulled away quickly. “I’m sorry, are you still hurt?”

She managed a pained laugh. “Yeah, I’m just a little bruised is all.”

Before anyone said anything, NotEnrique had leapt into the car and landed on Claire’s lap. “Sis! Oh man, I was worried sick! That was so scary!”

“Likewise,” Blinky spoke from the passenger door. “I am also glad to see you safe and awake.”

Merlin was frowning, looking at the truck. “Well, I think we’ll have to find a new form of transportation.” He called from the windshield.

Claire fought to sit up and slid out of her seat. “Wait, just a moment.”

Jim was quick to follow, making sure she was stable on her feet.

Claire walked up to the front of the truck, resting her hands on the hood.

“Claire?” NotEnrique asked.

Her eyes turned black as she focused on the mangled metal. “Ad initium redire…” The truck started to groan again, the metal twisting in the opposite direction, smoothing and flattening. The glass shards lifted from the ground, floating back to their proper place.

Then, with a rev, the engine roared to life, and the truck was sitting and ready to go, looking even better than when they got it.

Once again, Claire weakly collapsed to the ground, but Jim was quick to scoop her up. “I gotcha.” He assured.

She smiled, “Thanks, honey.”

“That was amazing Claire! Where did you learn that?”

She snuggled a little into his chest, blushing. “Um…it just came to me.”

“Morgana has been teaching her,” Merlin announced. “She’s been talking with Claire when she’s sleeping.”

Claire tensed. “Merlin! I told you that in confidence!”

“Hey hey,” Jim hushed, stroking her hair. “It’s okay…we…we’ll talk about it later. Okay?”

Claire swallowed, feeling small. “Okay.”

Blinky didn’t say anything about this new revelation, considering that only good had come from it so far. But he did look at Merlin in frustration. “All this time, you wanted to get your magic back, and you couldn’t even do anything with it? Not even fix the truck?”

The wizard said nothing, only climbed into the front seat.

“Nuh uh,” Jim protested, “You don’t deserve this seat today.”

Merlin scoffed and crawled to the back seat like a reprimanded dog.

Jim righted the truck in correct direction. Then he and Blinky pushed it up the hill and retrieved the Heartstone from where it had landed. A little more pushing and they were on the highway once more.

“You sure you’re okay, Claire?” Jim asked, as they sped away.

“Yeah, just a little sore.” She emphasized this by rubbing her arm. “And…a little hungry.”

“I’m a bit hungry as well,” stated Blinky. “I’ve been trying not to eat during the trip, but it’s hard.”

“Me too,” Jim admitted. “We’ll find a stop, and you and I can…scavenge through the garbage.” Jim tugged his sleeves down so they protected his fingers from the sun, and adjusted his hood to cover the left side of his face. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to eating trash.” He muttered to himself.

That day went much more normal. After breakfast, Claire attempted to sleep a little longer. Now that they had the radio back, the front seat couple turned up classical music as Blinky and Merlin continued to argue in the backseat.

The front seat was a bench, where the middle of the back seat could fold down into an armrest and drink holder. Unable to get comfortable resting against the window, Claire flipped up the middle and stretched out along the bench, using Jim’s thigh as a pillow instead.

Now that things were cruising along smoothly, Jim relaxed a little more in his seat and absently ran a hand over Claire’s hair.

They travelled the whole day. Landscapes and states zoomed by, days of travel passing in a a matter of hours. Every once in a while, Jim would hiss in pain and have to adjust his hoodie again, but only because he really didn’t want to loose anymore travel time in stopping.

Around 1 am, Jim pulled off at an exit close to Amarillo, Texas.

“What’re we doing?” Asked Claire, now wide awake.

“I saw a sign for a KOA up here. We’re going to sneak in, and use the showers.”

“Yes!” Claire shouted in excitement. “You’re the best!”

They had done this a couple of times since embarking on their adventure a month and a half ago. Stealing away in the middle of the night to take showers in campgrounds of state parks. Well, Claire showered, and Jim accompanied her to make sure she returned safely. It wasn’t very often, since they wanted to get to Jersey as soon as possible, but Jim made time.

They parked outside the gate, and Jim and Claire got out.

“Blinky gets to sit up front now,” Said Jim with glare at Merlin.

The wizard was sitting in the back seat with his arms crossed like a moody teenager. “I should have just walked back with the others.”

“You could always sit in the truck bed,” Offered Blinky with a bit of sass.

Jim took Claire’s hand and headed inside the campground to avoid the oncoming argument.

For a while, they just enjoyed walking hand in hand, basking in each other’s presence. Then, Jim decided to broach the elephant in the room.

“So…Morgana, huh?” There was no bite to his tone, no anger or judgement. But he could feel Claire tense.

“Yeah…” She whispered. “I…I had a nightmare, the night we stayed at the hotel. At the scariest moment, I found myself in my house, the version in the shadow realm where you found me.”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded in understanding.

“And Morgana was there…but she was different somehow. Soft spoken, polite. It was weird. She said she lost all of her anger.”

“That’s hard to believe…”

“I know!” Agreed Claire. “That’s what I said…but she never threatened me, never talked down to me, and never brought up feeling like she was trapped. She said she enjoyed being in the shadow realm, because she finally felt safe from Merlin.”

“Wait, what?”

At this time, they had found a bathroom, and Claire promised they’d continue the conversation after freshening up. Now that she knew he was ready to talk about it, Claire spend her time practicing the conversation, while Jim just mulled over the fact that, in a way, Morgan was in fact back, but it might not be a bad thing.

One slightly gross shower later, the couple were on their way back to the car.

“Have you ever heard of a binding ceremony?” Claire asked.

Jim blushed slightly. “Yeah…Blinky told me about it. A soul binding spell, which is what Troll weddings are.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Morgana said she and Merlin did it once.”

Jim came to a full stop, staring at his girlfriend. “Merlin and Morgana were…in love?”

“Yeah…so, full disclosure. Merlin sensed Morgana within me, so I didn’t mean to tell him before you…”

Jim shrugged with a smile, “When it comes to this magic stuff, I’m not really upset or surprised that you and Merlin talked. He would have been the most helpful…considering how completely unhelpful he’s been this entire trip so far.”

“And besides our conversation we had the morning you were arrested, he’s been a gaping asshole,” then she continued. “But he confirmed it, too. They were married once, a long long time ago.”

“What happened to make them hate each other so much?”

“It sounded like one night, Merlin had sex with her without her consent and it broke her trust enough that she asked Vendal to undo the soul bind.”

“Oh my god…”

“Merlin said that soul binds aren’t easily undone. They both had parts of their souls cut out, and it aged them and took away their happiness and compassion.”

“That makes total sense!”

“And not long after that, Morgana’s brother King Arthur, like King Arthur and Excalibur? He died, and while she was in mourning, Merlin cut off her hand and smelted down excalibur to make your amulet.”

“Geez, no wonder she hates me.” Jim sighed, “Man…now I don’t really know who the villain is…”

“Morgan wants to tutor me in magic. I talked it over with Merlin, and he says it should be safe. She’s already taught me three helpful spells. But I’m not sure…”

Jim took her hands, holding them securely. “Claire, you are smart and logical. Even though Merlin is a butt, if he says it’s safe, then it should be fine. Just…do what you feel comfortable doing.”

Claire smiled, and reached up to grab hold of his horn.

Jim smiled as he knew exactly what would follow. He leaned down and met her in a tender kiss, pushing all the love he felt for her into it.

When they pulled away, Claire was beaming. “One other thing…”

“Hmm?”

“When I was in the shadow realm with her, I could see and hear you. In your human form. Morgan said that I could see your soul…and that meant that we’re susceptible to a soul bind.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means our souls could be mixed perfectly, but there’d be no way to undo it.”

“Okay, why would we want to undo it anyway?”

Claire simply beamed and stood on her tiptoes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

#trollhunters #troll jim #jim lake jr #clairenuñez #jlaire #blinkous galadrigal #merlin #fanfiction #arcadia or bust

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Freaks” Part 1

Y/N is a metahuman with several peculiarities, but one could say the weirdest is her heart: it is gated by four locks that make it impossible for the woman to fall in love. Also one could say she’s manipulative, cunning and ruthless. Sounds familiar? Maybe that’s why The Joker is the perfect candidate to help her finally get something she always desired: a one of a kind heir.

“Yoooo-hoooooooooo, Mister Jooo-kkkeeerrr!!!!” Bane skips along the poorly lit corridor since it’s almost 11 at night and the Arkham inmates are supposed to be asleep. Yet they’re not: the ruckus woke them all up and now they are standing by the glass walls facing the hallway, wondering what the heck is going on.

The real Bane sighs, completely unappreciative of you borrowing his physical appearance.

“Hey, cut it out!” he admonishes as Y/N passes by and she decides to stop for a moment.

“Hello there handsome,” you swing your hips while walking towards him and The Riddler snorts, entertained: his cell is right across so it’s not like he can miss the show.

“If you’re going to mimic me, don’t do stuff like that!” Bane hisses through his mask, irritated.

“Apologies honey,” you wink and continue. “Far from me to purposely chop your masculinity to pieces,” but seductively sway on the tip of the heavy boots, taunting more because... who’s going to stop you?

“Seriously?!” Bane growls and you cut him some slack, transforming into The Joker for a few seconds.

“Jeez, don’t get worked up,” you smirk and blow the green hair off your face. “I’m looking for this guy, I know he’s here too.”

“Why are you looking for him?” Killer Croc punches his fists together, hoping he can twist your presence in his favor.

“I need him for breeding purposes,” you serenely admit as The Clown Prince of Crime rolls his eyes three padded rooms up from your present location.

“I told you before I can help with that,” Harvey Dent flips his coin in the air, not understanding why his offer was rejected numerous times.

“Me too!” The Riddler grins. “You should forget about the man that repeatedly refuses your advances and pick one of us,” the mastermind gestures at the cells containing prisoners willing to take on the task.

“I want him,” you revert to your human form, Mr. Freeze gasping with admiration: he’s been a fan for the past two years. “He’s the only male I’m compatible with for procreation on this continent and nobody else will do.”

“How do you know?” Deadshot addresses the burning question.

“I just know, ok?” you pout not wishing to get into details. “That’s why I’m here to bail him out. I helped his men clear the area so we can rescue the father of my future baby.”

“Ugghhhh,” a displeased and very loud protest is heard from The Joker’s cell.

“There you are,” you light up with the happiest smile and abandon the captives held in pretty boxes lined up on the south side of Arkham Asylum.

“Hey Y/N,” Jonathan Crane smacks his lips, “if you get me out of here also I’ll give you two millions.”

“I’ll give you double!” The Penguin shouts and Bane promises:

“I’ll give you three!”

The offers keep on pouring in and the shapeshifter is not a person to say no to easy money.

“Might as well,” you press the yellow buttons outside everyone’s incarceration chambers, leaving the best for last.

“Hiiii Mister Jooooker,” you drag the words and he grumbles, squeezing past you as soon as the glass slides enough for him to emerge from the cell.

“Shut up!” he barks and you couldn’t care less about his crabbiness.

“Your crew is waiting outside,” you giggle and turn into Frost, escorting the grouchy Clown in the direction of the exit you know it’s safe to take.

“Would you look at that?” The Shark teases, not being able to contain his laughter.

“Holy shit!” Panda tries to keep it together yet it’s impossible: the real Frost gives them a dismissing glare, annoyed Y/N is lovingly holding The Joker’s arm as they come down the stairs, definitely engaged in some sort of argument.

“That’s obviously not me!” Jonny mutters and there are more disrespectful remarks from the henchmen patiently waiting for their boss.

“It’s still funny as hell!” Richard underlines and swallows his sentence when Y/N posing as Frost kisses The Joker’s cheek.

“One more sound out of you jerks and I’ll bash your brains in!” Jonny threatens because he’s sick and tired of Y/N playing charades at his expense.

Thankfully you switch to your old self immediately after but the team is glad they’ll have something to tease Frost with in the weeks to come. Although it can be overdone: under the apparent calmness he has quite a wretched temper.

“Delivered as agreed,” you cheerfully announce to his gang and follow J even if he’s not thrilled about it.

“Get lost!” he angrily stomps, pushing you away when you grab his hand again.

“Stop being so rude!” you remodel your body after his and he takes a deep breath, staring back at another fabulous J courtesy of Y/N.

“Stop mimicking me!!!” he sneers and Panda comments in a low tone, convinced he’s far behind to safely say it:

“Two Jokers. God Forbids!”

A couple of goons nearby snicker and the amusement abruptly halts when you raise your voice:

“I heard that!!!”

“Huh?” J inquires.

You just lift your shoulders up, not wanting to distract him from what he has to focus on: making sure he fulfils your demand.

The First Lock

“You’re still here?!” The King of Gotham comes out of the bathroom, intensely drying his wet hair with a towel. “I thought that by the time I’m out of the shower you’ll be gone.”

You gaze at his naked body, reckoning it’s a nice coincidence to be compatible with such a beautiful specimen. Could be much worse.

“Why don’t you want to help me?” you ask and The Joker is aware what you’re referring to. “I’ve been begging you for a year; I must emphasize I’m losing hope and I will probably have to move to another continent in order to find a new prototype that could give me an heir.”

“Not my problem. Why do you want a kid?” he tosses the towel on the floor and digs around in the closet for a pair of boxers.

“So I won’t be alone,” the disarming reply makes him tilt his head to analyze the stubborn metahuman that pesters him on a regular basis about crap he doesn’t give a damn about. “The storm is coming,” you shift the subject when the lighting strikes the dark skies in the distance at 1:23 in the morning.

J gulps, uneasy: he saw the 6 feet creature for a split second and it certainly startled him.

“Apologies, Mister Joker,” you try to fix the mistake because it’s evident his reaction is below excitement standards. “The fire bolt must have projected my true nature. You only tolerate the pretty side, don’t you?” the sadness in your demeanor confuses J. “They all do…” Y/N whispers to herself. “Is this better?” you transform into Poison Ivy, then Cat Woman, then a random blonde girl with big boobs; by the seventh option The Joker had enough.

“Cut it out!” he finally finds his favorite underwear and you stand by the bed, opting out to be your human self for his sake.

“Can you please help me?” a disappointed woman pleads since he’s getting ready to go to sleep.

“Why would I help you?” The Joker snaps, hoping you’ll disappear from the premises and let him rest at the mansion he found refuge at after breaking out of Arkham.

Your eyes get teary and he never saw you show any type of weakness before; it’s sort of uncomfortable even for him.

“Because us freaks have to stick together.”

“Speak for yourself!” J gets mad at your affirmation and doesn’t know how to react to the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Mmmmm,” he debates, deep in thought: the insane Clown was captive for almost three months and a half and they surely don’t allow any conjugal visits in that shithole. Not that he has anybody in particular that would come to tend to his urges.

“If I help you,” the sudden switch in mood makes you pay attention, “will you quit bothering me?”

“Y-yes, of course! I swear!” you wipe your eyes, full of hope for once. “Since we’re a match it will only take one time! I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

You watch J take off his boxers and don’t blink when he yanks you in his arms, afraid he might change his mind: he’s not the most well balanced individual on the planet.

“No kissing,” you dodge his lips. “I only need the technical stuff.”

He gives you a cold stare, fed up with the infernal plague:

“You don’t get to make any other requests!” The Joker pulls you into a passionate kiss that unexpectedly shatters the first lock of your heart.

“Wait, wait…” you part from his soft lips, kind of drunk on the intimacy. “Did you hear that?!”

“Hear what?” he shoves Y/N on the bed and slowly crawls on top of her.

“That deafening noise.”

“Nope,” J purrs while carefully listening anyway. A strong thunder shakes the ground and he grins: “I heard it.”

“Not that, it was something else,” you attempt to explain and he buries his face in your cleavage, protesting the unwanted dialogue:

“After chewing my ears for months, less yapping would be nice!”

You smile, delighted to have tricked The Joker with your fake tears; you sure counted on him being trapped inside the Asylum without any feminine presence to grace his existence and it payed off in the end. Making yourself available when nobody else is around brought the desired outcome: Y/N always gets what she wants.

************

The Joker moans in his dream, unhappy with your wiggling.

“What is it?” he cuddles up to your body and it feels soft.

“I’m pregnant,” you yawn and he puffs in disbelief.

“Already?... We had sex a couple of hours ago.”

“U-hum,” you say and let him caress your skin, unaware your true essence peeked from behind the human shell. “It shouldn’t take too long. By morning I will have my heir.”

“That fast?” J opens his eyes since the pillow talk is actually interesting.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice I’m different,” you hum with your eyes closed, exhausted from the energy you have to channel into the tiny life growing inside your womb. The soon to be mother is so impatient she won’t skip accelerating the process at the expense of her own vitality.

“No kidding,” The King of Gotham mumbles, smitten with the apparition peacefully dozing off in his arms. The storm outside is wreaking havoc and each time lightning illuminates the blackness J can inspect the delicate feathers covering your body: when he touches you they change colors, red butterflies flying out of the pressed skin. He curiously pokes one and the illusion shatters into glowing dust resembling small fireworks.

The Joker has no clue that he is the first soul to ever see you like this; earlier he didn’t have the opportunity to comprehend what he saw, but he’s sure taking advantage of the situation now to understand what he’s looking at.

“Oh,” he touches your tummy that seems to expand with each passing moment: something is moving and he foolishly smirks without realizing.

Whatever is developing inside Y/N he helped create and strangely enough he can’t wait to see the result.

************

The Second Lock

J drags his feet on the wet grass, watching you admire the sunrise. He woke up and the bed was empty: made him wonder if you vanished without a trace. Yet there you are, waiting for him in the backyard since you figured you owe him this much.

“Mister Joker,” you chuckle, holding something wrapped up in a blanket. “I’m off to my house: thank you for participating in this project,” the indifferent metahuman blurs out: it’s the only speech she prepared. “I requested that everyone owing me money from last night should send it here,” you gesture at the huge duffel bag at your feet. “There’s 35 million dollars in here, all yours as a thank you for helping me.”

“Hm?” he crinkles his nose, insulted at the gift. “Do I look like a prostitute?!”

Why is he getting angry?... That’s a lot of money for a one night stand.

“They get paid for sex, don’t they?” he enlightens the puzzled Y/N. “What’s that?” J nods at the bundle you gently rock.

“My baby.”

“You gave birth?!” he forgets his hurt pride, not believing it’s already done.

“Yes, about 45 minutes ago,” you kiss your daughter’s forehead and her innocence makes your chest tightly constrict before the second lock of your heart is broken to pieces. “Did you hear that?” you interrogate the man you don’t need anymore.

“Hear what?” The Joker rushes to glimpse at the newborn as you step back, discontent he’s trying to take her.

“That horrifying bang! How can you not hear it?!”

“I have no idea what you’re rambling about,” he forcefully snatches the baby from Y/N’s embrace, grunting at her resistance. “Gimme, I wanna check out what I made!”

He parts the blanket aside and…

“Waaaaah,” the mesmerized parent holds his breath:

The sweet angel has wings embedded with neon green feathers, the same shade as J’s crazy hair.

“Are you done?” you attempt to reacquire your treasure and he slaps your arm.

“Little bird…” J runs his fingers along her wings and the mini-metahuman fusses a bit, already establishing a connection with her dad.

That’s exactly what you’re trying to avoid before it’s too late.

“Mister Joker, I have to go, ok??!!” you seek to remove the baby from her father.

“Stop bothering me!” he sucks on his teeth and begins striding towards the mansion while the panicked Y/N runs behind him.

“What are you doing? Give her back!”

“What should we name her?” The Joker ignores your outburst, totally struck with this overwhelming emotion washing over him.

Oh no, she’s already getting under his skin!

“WE?!” you shout, exasperated. “This is MY descendant!”

“You said I participated in the project so she’s half mine!” The Clown implies the obvious.“I think we should name her Emma, I always liked that name,” he adds to Y/N’s dismay. “Pretty bird…” J shuts you down as soon as you open your mouth to protest, stroking his daughter’s feathers.

He’s already addicted and this is a complete disaster!

“I’ll tell my boys to get baby supplies,” he decides without taking into consideration any opinions you might have about his plan.

“Why?!” you cringe at the proposal simply because The Joker is not part of the equation; but your daughter is already bonding with him and that’s something mommy can’t break: she has her own will and set of abilities enabling her to already make choices. You’re not sure why she’s making him believe he could be included into a two party family; there’s no space for a third, otherwise it would be a three party family and that won’t work.

“Don’t you need supplies for her?” he enters the master bedroom where the infant was conceived only hours ago.

You’re still on the patio, fuming at his absurdities.

“No, I have to go home! I’ll take care of it! Listen Mister Joker, I’m not expecting anything from you! ” you underline the truth and his witty response baffles Y/N:

“I was sure expected though to get naked and have sex right after escaping Arkham, huh?!” and The Joker protectively covers his daughter’s ears, his messed up brain figuring out she shouldn’t hear that. “Where’s home anyway, huh?” the tirade continues.

“That’s none of your business!” you shriek and he repositions Emma in his arms, preparing to lecture her mother when he gets distracted by the growth spur.

“Did she just get…bigger??!!!”

“Yes,” you join him in the middle of the room, explaining things you shouldn’t because frankly you should be at your residence by now. “She’s using capabilities inherited from me in order to speed up her evolution and then take a break to recharge around one year old landmark.”

“Fascinating,” J gushes while placing Emma on the couch: the baby is napping, not bothered by the quarrel anymore. “Wait here; I’ll go instruct my men on what we need.”

This is the limit to make you lose your marbles.

“There. Is. No. WE!” you thud on the wood floor and The Joker watches you get taller and taller until you can barely fit under the vaulted ceiling, electing to show him what he’s messing with. The metahuman transforms into the nightmare she really is: dark and sinister, covered in black feathers with sharp, long claws and fangs ready to tear apart the human trespassing a fine line.

That’s not what The Clown saw last night: you keep the beast caged but now IT needs to come out, otherwise he won’t understand the seriousness of his circumstances.

“You are not needed!” your heavy steps make the ground shake. “You are not wanted!” you corner The Joker between the table and the couch Emma is resting on. “Don’t stay in my way or you’ll regret it!!!! I’m taking my daughter and we’ll go: don’t try to stop me or I’ll kill you!!!” and you bend over to snarl in his face, prepared to shred him to pieces.

Eerie silence while J is gathering all his strength to put up with the fucked up events leading to this moment.

“You two can’t go,” he straightness his back, so stiff one could think he swallowed a broomstick.

“Why not?” you smell his skin, antagonized.

The Joker tries to look as imposing as possible but he’s still half your size; nothing else in his mind besides some words of wisdom he’s about to repeat:

“Because us freaks have to stick together.”

You unravel your tusks, displeased with his strategy:

“Speak for yourself!”

That went down the drain fast, J thinks while the hideous mug a few inches away from his face doesn’t bulge. His eyes wander off to the sofa and he gasps:

“Where’s the baby?!”

A sharp claw points towards the ceiling and he looks up only to notice Emma snuggling in her blanket.

“Oh my God!” his eyes get big. “What is she doing there?!”

“Snoozing!”

“She’s gonna fall!” The Joker circles around you, worried about the angel.

“She’s not going to fall; she’s comfortable,” you huff and reach to caress her.

“Where are the wings?!” J glares at the gigantic mother tending to her peculiar offspring.

How many people have witnessed such bizarre sight? NONE. And yet The Clown is asking questions without a trace of disgust or judgement; only pure curiosity.

“They’ll come and go, she can’t fully control them yet.”

“Can you…can you turn into your usual self?” he suggests. “You’re very ugly like this and it’s spooking me out.”

“Do you know you’re interested in us because she’s making you?” the monster bites without using her fangs. “You’re useless, yet she wants you around.”

“Oh yeah?” The Joker’s attitude escalates despite the sticky context. “You’re useless also since you chased me until I slept with you; she exists thanks to my help! You should be ecstatic!!”

“Money is not enough?!” you gradually switch to the Y/N he’s familiar with even if you’re still mad.

“I have money,” The King of Gotham pretends not to be relieved by the welcomed transmutation.

“Then what do you want?” you attempt to compromise for your daughter’s sake.

“My birds,” he calmly admits.

You debate on his stupid reply: is J deaf and didn’t catch the memo?! He might be because he keeps on telling you he didn’t discern the odd, loud noises you heard twice so far.

You are not aware it would be such a blessing to hear those sounds again: it could mean the unconventional family Emma is trying to keep together might actually work.