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mynameis-noe-body · 7 months

Note

Okay, for marquis de gramont we can get reallll toxic. Both the reader and Vincent are angry with each other and are tying to make one another jealous at the event. Because they’re very kinda delulu and possessive they kill the people they're using to make the other jealous and confess their feelings

Thank you so much for this request, my dear anon. I hope you'll love this. 🖤

I am your slave

Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont × you (F/GN)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

Author notes: I used Google translate for the Russian and French sentences. Let me know if it's incorrect!

Obviously. You muttered the word under your breath, chewing its bitter taste, testing its sound on the tip of your tongue as you watched, disarmed, as the Marquis made his triumphal entrance.

The most influential families of the High Table had gathered at the Hotel Mademoiselle de Condé for a gala and business evening. Those weren't rare events, but that didn't make them any less sumptuous. Money flowed freely, as did the champagne, the drugs, the caviar. And the lovers. Yes, they were purchasable too. Women and men of supreme beauty, unattainable, sometimes sons and daughters who were given away, exchanged, lent — everything, in exchange for favors.

But the Marquis — Vincent — never had to ask anyone for anything.

With a gallant gesture he opened the door of his 1970 Cadillac DeVille and offered his arm to a woman. And not yet another high-class whore that he would have refused to touch even with the tip of his little finger, no. The woman who accompanied him that evening was a creature of rare beauty, perhaps someone's protégé. Perhaps his protégé. She was graceful, elegant, she flaunted a cascade of golden curls that would make Venus herself envious. And you, you felt flooded with anger.

"Champagne" you ordered, snapping your fingers. They served you immediately. You too had your power, and you had never hidden it. You knew, deep down, that it was one of the things that attracted him. Your shy elegance fiercely contrasted the anger that could ignite in your heart. The strength of your hands, the fury in your eyes, the power you wielded ruthlessly. Yet, in his arms and in his bed, you were capable of the deepest love, the most total devotion. He was bewitched by it, and inebriated. Therefore, he loved to instigate every jealousy in you, just to have you desperate at the end of the night.

Vincent didn't even glance at you. He shook dozens of hands, ordered food and drinks, laughed with his colleagues and friends. And he ignored you. At least until, from the door of the luxurious hotel, taking off his Armani coat and handing the keys of his Ferrari Portofino to the doorman, Mr. D'Antonio entered.

"Santino!" you exclaimed, with a smile so bright it lighted the entire dining room. Many turned, if only for a moment, to watch you gallop towards the man, with a hem of your beautiful dress grasped between your fingers to reveal crystal heels that echoed off the walls.

Santino opened his arms, and welcomed you with a loud kiss on the cheek. "Meraviglia! Look at you — beautiful, you are beautiful."

Santino was warm, welcoming, purely Italian. And charming, in every aspect of his person. He knew how to make any woman feel like the most beautiful in the world. He gallantly offered you his arm and ordered for you. His laugh was loud, contagious. His exuberant nature amused you. You had been friends for years now. You had worked together, sometimes — often you had worked for him. And he appreciated you. He was generous in his payments. And above all, Vincent was morbidly jealous, because D'Antonio had no qualms about making blatant advances on you, even in front of all those people.

Vincent was daydreaming about murder. God, how he hated him. And yes, he had planned to take that beautiful Parisian home with him, one of the new acquisitions of his organization, now that he saw you... you were his favorite. Oh, bullshit — you were the only one. Since he had met you he had no longer been able to keep faith with his numerous lovers. One by one, they had extinguished his desire, and you had ignited his. Or they were fallen dead, because you killed them. Many of them, to be honest. And every time he learned of one of your murders, his desire to possess you — body and soul — violently took hold of him. He didn't want to give in, not that easily. But now he understood how difficult it was to resist you, while your hand caressed the muscular shoulder of that penniless Italian. That coward. The mere thought that you could enjoy yourself under his fingers made him vomit — so much that he poured what was left of the wine into the boulle and twisted his mouth in a grimace of disgust.

With my bare hands, he thought. He crossed his legs and wrapped himself in his double-breasted jacket, brooding. I want to kill him with my bare hands around his neck. He would have done it. He was Vincent Bisset de Gramont, the Marquis and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He could have attached Santino D'Antonio to a pole and set him on fire to make him feel a tenth of the physical pain with which, due to that jealousy, he himself was now burning.

The young woman he had brought with him caressed his face. Or at least, she tried. But he grabbed her wrist before she could touch his cheek. He looked at her with the same hatred. "Go take off that lipstick" he hissed, through clenched teeth. "You look ridiculous."

She obeyed, humiliated, and reached the bathroom. Of course, she didn't expect to meet you anytime soon.

As soon as you saw her walking away towards the toilet, you took your chance, followed her and closed the door behind you with a sharp slam, waiting for her right there, outside her niche. She, surrounded by that shiny hair, those brilliant eyes, those scarlet lips, had raised a single eyebrow in an inquisitive manner.

"And you are?" she asked, passing a cloth over her lips, cleaning them from that bright color.

You inhaled deeply. "You know who I am."

She allowed herself an amused smile. "Ah," she had commented, smugly, "nomer dva."

You thought that, before speaking, she should have made sure that you didn't speak Russian.

▪️▪️▪️

"Dance with me." Vincent took your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you before you could respond, or refuse.

He had chased you as soon as you left the bathroom. The Marquis had immediately noticed your flushed chest, your freshly washed hands, your disheveled hair pulled back with a mechanical gesture of your hand, your pupils as narrow as pinpricks. Magnificent. On the dance floor, he had first twirled you once, before grabbing you and holding you against his chest; one hand — the right one — on your back, the lower part, the other intertwined with yours and pressed against his chest, on the beating of his heart. And his face in the corner between your neck and your shoulder.

You huffed, trying to maintain composure. "They're all watching us" you whispered in his ear. He smiled against your skin. "You'll make us look ridiculous in front of the High Table."

"Mon amour. I am the High Table." Vincent left the ghost of a kiss on your neck before making you sway in his arms. Another pirouette, and there you are again in his inevitable grip. "I could order half the men in this room to lick the floor where you walk, and they would do it for me."

You barely held back a small smile. "I can not stand you." But you settled a little more against his chest. The soft, slow music lulled you gently. "And what do you think of Santino? Would he kneel for you too?"

His nails dug into your side, making you flinch. You met his icy eyes in mid-air. So cold, so beautiful. "The Italian. That's it then, you like him."

"He's a charming man."

"He is rude, and vulgar. So pompous."

"And you're not?"

You almost heard him growl. Vincent shot a terrible look at D'Antonio, across the room, who was watching you swing on the dance floor with dark, annoyed eyes.

"You shouldn't be here with me" you added, coldly. "Your woman? Where is she?"

He laughed heartily. "Oh, please. We both know she won't make it out of that bathroom alive. How long did it take you to kill her?"

But you didn't answer. You never responded to his curiosity... it was your game.

Vincent grinned. The kiss on your neck now became passionate. You felt his soft lips caress your skin from your bare shoulder to the tip of your chin with five deep, intense kisses. "You drive me crazy."

This time, you smiled happily. "You are sick."

Vincent looked deadly serious, hovering over you, his back straight and tall to tower over your beautiful figure. "I will have monsieur D'Antonio's raw heart served to me on a silver platter. I will kidnap you, lock you in a dungeon, make you die of hunger and thirst if necessary — anything, as long as you admit the truth."

He was scary. Exciting. Terrifying. Beautiful. You blushed, panting slightly. "What truth? What the hell are you talking about?"

He smiled. He leaned down and whispered in your ear. "That you love me, mon amour."

"I —" yes, you loved him. And you loved the way he made you feel. You loved that hateful jealousy you felt for him, and that he felt for you. You caressed his face with an unexpected sweetness. Your eyes were large, languid. Vincent felt his whole body tremble like never before... "I'll tell you. Not now, though. Tomorrow morning. Now, take me home, and make love to me."

He stopped. He smiled, looking younger than he was. So happy. With a ridiculous low bow, he offered you his hand. "Je suis ton serviteur."

#marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #Vincent Bisset de Gramont #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick fandom #marquis de gramont x reader #Vicent de Gramont x you #Marquis De Gramont x you #bill skarsgård

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headchamberlain · 2 months

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The confession of Ivan Goncharov.

TW: TWISTED religious imagery, excusing abuse and even calling it a blessing, unhealthy obsession, overall disturbing things.

In this I'll be trying to flesh out Ivan's character, why he's the way he is and how the lobotomy affects him today. This is written from his perspective. Take the tags seriously, please.

...

"IT ALL STARTED SO LONG AGO. HOW LONG AGO? I CANT REMEMBER. I DONT NEED TO REMEMBER. ANYTHING BEFORE MEETING YOU IS INSIGNIFICANT. MY FAMILY... MY FRIENDS- IF I HAD ANY- THEYRE INSIGNIFICANT NOW. NOTHING BUT SOMETHING I AM SUPPOSED TO HAVE, SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR, BUT THEY DONT UNDERSTAND ME. THEY DONT UNDERSTAND ME LIKE YOU DO, MASTER.

I WAS STRUGGLING. I COULDNT CONTROL ANYTHING. NOT EVEN MY OWN LIFE. IT KEPT GOING DOWNHILL. I WAS HANGING ON- I HUNG ON BY A THREAD- BUT EVEN THEN I GAVE UP AND LET GO. I WAS SO LONELY. WHAT DID YOU SEE IN ME, MASTER? I WAS HOPELESS. I WAS WEAK. ID LOST MY FAITH; IN FACT I BELIEVED GOD HATED ME. I BELIEVED GOD JUST WANTED ME TO SUFFER FOR HIS ENTERTAINMENT. BUT THAT WAS UNTIL YOU CAME. YOU OFFERED ME A HAND. YOU SAID I HAD THE POTENTIAL TO BECOME MORE THAN WHAT I AM. I DIDNT BELIEVE YOU. YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD A WAY TO FIX ME- TO MAKE SURE I NEVER FELT THOSE HIDEOUS, HORRIBLE EMOTIONS AGAIN. I WAS INTERESTED. I TOOK YOUR HAND. YOUR HAND WAS SO COLD, MASTER... BUT IT WAS SO WARM. YOUR FINGERS WERE BONY AND THIN. YOU WERE SO PALE. YOU WERE SO TIRED. I COULD TELL YOU WERE WEAK, TOO. BUY YOU WERE FAR FROM THAT.

A SURGERY, YOU SAID. A SURGERY THAT WOULD MAKE ME HAPPY AGAIN. FOREVER. I TOLD YOU THAT WAS INSANE; I TOLD YOU THAT WOULD BE HORRIBLE. BUT YOU TOLD ME TO THINK ABOUT IT. WOULD I GET THIS CHANCE AGAIN? WOULD MY LIFE EVER GET BETTER? YOU WERE A MESSENGER FROM GOD, I REALIZED. YOU HAD ANGELS AT YOUR HAND, WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. WHY ME, I ASKED. WHY AM I BEING CHOSEN TO BE BLESSED? WHY IS A PIECE OF FILTH LIKE ME CAPABLE OF HAVING THIS KINDNESS? BECAUSE, YOU TOLD ME, THAT YOU SPOKE WITH GOD. AND GOD SAID HE NEEDED ME TO LIVE.

YOU ARE A BLESSING, MASTER. YOU REALLY ARE. I COULD WORSHIP YOU. I COULD WORSHIP EVERYTHING YOU DO. IF I DIED I WOULD WANT TO DIE WORSHIPPING YOU. PEOPLE TOLD ME I WAS INSANE, THAT I WOULD GO TO HELL FOR WORSHIPPING YOU; BUT I KNOW THEY WERE WRONG. THEY HADN'T HAD A CHANCE TO MEET YOU. YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. PEOPLE DON'T UNDERSTAND YOUR ACTIONS LIKE I DO, MASTER. PEOPLE SAID WHAT YOU DID WAS EVIL; SUCH HENIOUS CRIMES, THEY WOULD SAY. BUT IS DESTRUCTION AND WAR REALLY A SIN? IS IT NOT CONSIDERED RIGHTEOUS? WHEN THE ANGELS CAME DOWN WITH TRUMPETS TO DESTROY THE EARTH, WAS IT NOT GOD'S WILL? WAS IT NOT HIS WILL TO TURN THE RIVERS AND LAKES TO BLOOD, TO UNLEASH DEMONS THAT SPOKE BLASPHEMOUS THINGS? YOU ARE RE-CONSTRUCTING THE EARTH. WHEN BUILDINGS FALL AND BURN, WHEN PEOPLE DIE, YOU ARE DOING IT TO FREE THE WORLD OF SIN. WHEN GOD FLOODED THE EARTH THAT IS WHAT HE DID. HE PROMISED HE WOULDN'T DO IT AGAIN. SO HE SENT YOU INSTEAD. EVEM GOD'S LOVE HAS LIMITS.

AFTER MY SURGERY, I WAS TERRIFIED, MASTER. I WAS TERRIFIED. I PICKED UP A PEN; BUT NOTHING CAME TO MIND. I COULDN'T WRITE. I COULDN'T READ. I SOBBED, MASTER, I SOBBED; BUT I SOBBED WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. WASN'T MY VOICE SO BEAUTIFUL? WASN'T IT BEAUTIFUL THAT I CHOKED AND SOBBED IN THE PRESENCE OF THE LORD? WASN'T IT BEAUTIFUL HOW I COULDN'T GET A WORD OUT, HOW FAT TEARS ROLLED DOWN MY CHEEKS AND STAINED THE CARPET? YOU WEREN'T ANGRY AT ME. YOU BLESSED ME AGAIN, MASTER. YOU BLESSED ME WITH PURPOSE; I LEARNED EVERYTHING FOR YOU. I LEARNED HOW TO COOK, I LEARNED HOW TO CLEAN, I LEARNED YOUR TASTES. WHAT KIND OF TEA YOU LIKE, WHAT FABRICS YOU PREFER, HOW WARM YOU WANT YOUR BATH. I LEARNED EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU AND I MENORIZED IT. THAT IS MY ONLY PURPOSE, MASTER, TO SERVE YOU.

I WELCOMED EACH BLESSING YOU GAVE ME; I WELCOMED THE BRUISES YOU GAVE ME, I WELCOMED THEM ALL. I WANT YOU TO HIT ME ALL YOU WANT AND THEN KISS THE BRUISES AFTERWARDS. I WANT YOU TO TEAR ME APART AND SAY SORRY AFTERWARDS, EVEN IF I KNOW YOU DON'T MEAN IT, EVEN IF I KNOW YOU'LL DO IT AGAIN. OVER AND OVER.

IS IT SO WRONG FOR ME TO BE YOUR TOY? IS IT REALLY SO WRONG? IS IT SO WRONG FOR ME TO BE YOUR SOURCE OF ENTERTAINMENT? BEING GOD'S FAVOURITE COMES WITH RESPONSIBILITIES. GOD NEEDS SOMEONE TO HURT, SOMEONE TO TOY WITH, SOMEONE TO RUIN. THAT'S OKAY. I AM YOUR ANGEL. I AM YOUR ANGEL.

AREN'T I BEAUTIFUL, MASTER? PLEASE SAY I'M BEAUTIFUL. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME AND ILL BE BEGGING FOR YOUR ATTENTION LIKE A DOG. IM A NERVOUS DOG. IM A BAD DOG. I WAIT BY THE DOOR EVEN IF I KNOW ILL STARVE BY IT. PLEASE LOOK AT ME MASTER. PLEASE LOVE ME. I LOVE YOU MASTER. PLEASE LOOK AT ME. PLEASE LOOK AT ME, I'M BEGGING YOU, MASTER, DONT STOP BEING MY SAVIOR. DON'T STOP BEING THE ONE PERSON I RELY ON. I CANT FUNCTION WITHOUT YOU. I KNOW YOU SO MUCH IVE FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING ABOUT MYSELF. I DONT HAVE MY OWN ROUTINE; MY LIFE REVOLVES AROUND YOU. I CANT LEAVE YOU EVEN IF I WAS GIVEN A CHANCE TO, BECAUSE I LOVE YOU MASTER

IM YOUR PERFECT SACRIFICAL LAMB. MY WOOL IS SO PURE AND WHITE AND FLUFFY AND SOFT. WHEN THEY LEAD ME TO YOU THEY DONT HAVE TO TIE ME DOWN- I HOLD PERFECTLY STILL WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. AS THE KNIFE DIGS INTO ME MY INTESTINES SPILL OUT SO BEAUTIFULLY AND CLEANLY AND IT STAINS MY PRETTY WOOL RED. WHEN I DIE YOU REVIVE ME AGAIN AND YOU TELL ME IM YOUR FAVOURITE. YOU DONT REVIVE THE OTHER LAMBS BECAUSE IM YOUR FAVOURITE. I TROT ALONG SO HAPPILY BECAUSE IM YOUR FAVOURITE. IM SO PURE LIKE A PORCELAIN DOLL LIKE A FLOWER LIKE AN ANGEL THAT LOST ITS WINGS.

PLEASE LOOK AT ME MASTER.

PLEASE.

I SEE THEM. I SEE THEM EVERY DAY AND THEY KEEP TELLING ME YOU DONT LOVE ME. SOMETIMES I SEE IT IN THE CORNER OF MY EYE. SOMETIMES THEY WHISPER MY NAME EVER SO SOFTLY; THEY TELL ME YOU DONT LOVE ME. THATS NOT TRUE, MASTER. I LOVE YOU. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. SAY IT BACK. SAY IT BACK OR IM GONNA HAVE TO BEG YOU"

... -Written by Kiji.

If you've actually read all of this; I'm proud!

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cooki3face · 1 year

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In depth love reading 💋 (pick a pile/pick a card) w/ channeled messages

Pile two 💋:

I see somebody undergoing a personal transformation, changing, things and people and relationships being removed from their lives but there is a resistance to this change, perhaps a fear of change. There could be a romantic relationship here I see a situationship or a relationship that has been on and off for some time or has been turbulent and has always felt as if there was never a right time for this relationship or connection to flourish, grow or be consistent here. There’s something here about unfinished business, a door being left open for someone to enter and exit as they please, or a relationship not properly ending or closure not being served (at all or properly.)

There could be someone here, hesitant to move on, hesitant to leave but craving something more, or craving peace and to be done with a complicated or hurtful situation instead of continuing to wait around. Someone could be on the fence about where they should go, what they should do, or how they feel. There’s an energy of holding back or trying to do some type of damage control and ease their way out instead of just ripping off the bandage. Someone is realizing that they’re exactly where they need to be, or perhaps that someone is no longer in alignment with them as they used to be, or maybe that spirit and the most high are rerouting them in a sense so they can continue forward in a different or better direction here. I see someone thinking about what they want from relationships, what they want in their futures, what they want from themselves, their personal values, their desires, their wishes and their dreams and really truly trying to determine if this person is compatible with all of those things or coming to the understanding that they aren’t compatible with all of those things. I hear, “I recognize it’s time for me to change so that I can have better things.” Or “I recognize it’s time for me to change who it is I am attracted to or what it is that I like so I can have good things and healthy relationships as I wish to have.”

You crave mutual love pile two, or to have a divine relationship or bond with someone or to build something beautiful with someone here. There’s a deep desire for love to come from a deeper more profound place. I see imbalance within this relationship or connection. Someone wasn’t giving as they were receiving and vise versa, there is a lack of reciprocity and kindness. You could be dealing with someone who is not capable of treating you gently or handling you with care or may perceive you to be worth less or may have preconceived ideas about your past and may treat you as an object or may demean you and so they treat you as less than or aren’t careful or mindful of what they say, do, or think of you pile two and you’re realizing that there must be an equal give in take in relationships, mutual respect, mutual care and love and understanding.

I see your trying to take control of this situation, trying to exercise some self discipline or stand your ground as this person once showed to you that they could you could be someone who is attracted to a avoidant person or a person with an avoidant attatchment style as it mimics the stability of a parent or to some extent sets an example of how stable or stoic you would like to be or feel as though you should be in life. You could’ve been an emotional child or someone who was told that they cried to much, was to rambunctious, disruptive or in other words wasn’t nonchalant, wasn’t stable emotionally or physically.

If you’re wondering this person still has not changed. This person could have mood swings, could’ve been an over thinker, could’ve been jealous, angry or emotionally volatile and was like this towards you from time to time and they’ve not stopped being this way pile two. Your person remains as they once were and will continue to do so. You may have thought you had it within you to change this person or shift this person or heal these aspects of this person that are very deep rooted and beyond your control. This person could’ve had a lot of deep rooted insecurities, may have issues that pertain to their self worth as well and kept a lot of these things from you for fear you’d use them against them or know them to be too vulnerable or naked. I see a lot of secrets, keeping on a mask, hiding things from you. This could’ve even gone as far as infidelity or cheating to fill a void or an insecurity of not feeling truly wanted or desired. This person could’ve had sexual kinks that could’ve been a reflection of being wanted by more than one person or being desired in a way that made them feel special or like a bigger person. The ego and pride are significant.

This person could’ve had a lack of long term vision or plan for your relationship or didn’t feel as though they wanted to invest in it deeply. They could’ve never seen you as a longtime partner, or they could’ve not seen themselves going the distance with you. Spirit is asking you to really take some time to think about and acknowledge how tired and exhausted or burnt out this relationship and connection made you feel even now and in the recent past. There is a need for you to validate your own emotions on the matter and be honest with yourself.

Messages from your person 💌:

I get the energy that this person sees you as a sexual partner or has a lot of physical attraction towards you primarily or only. They may love you and admire you but not be in love with you and that is the issue.

“I wanted to text/call you but I’m worried you won’t respond.”

“I want so badly to kiss you right now.”

“You make me feel so safe.”

“I want to be with so bad but I feel things are in my way.”

“I wonder why you haven’t texted/called me?”

“I’m thinking of ways to win you over.”

“You’re home to me.”

“I love you but I’d never let you get that close again…”

Confession jar 🫙:

“I want to try and fix things I may have broken between us but I don’t know how.”

“You’re in my dreams.”

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“I want us to be together but I feel like it’s never the right time or I’m never the best I can be.”

“I sometimes wish that i still had your support or your presence in my life.”

“I’m feeling lost and confused in my life and that energy is affecting our relationship and how I deal with you.”

“Why are you shutting me out?”

Warnings from spirit ⚠️:

“Someone is lying to you, on you, or about a situation that has something to do with you or involves you.”

#tarot readings #pick a card #pick a pile

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ssarkosghost · 2 years

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Nuts and Dolts Week DAY 3 - Stargazing

Alright Day 3 everyone hope you’ll are enjoying this week by @nuts-and-dolts-week

Ruby had to admit it was a nice view, as the evening clouds slowly disappeared from view, along with the slow descent of the sun. Of course, her positioning at the moment was a bit tenuous.

“Uh Penny,” she started as she hugged her arms tighter around Penny’s neck, “are you sure this is okay for you?”

“Oh, don’t worry Ruby,” Penny stated as she held Ruby bridal style as she hovered in the air, “I am capable of holding up to twenty times your weight at this altitude for three hours straight,”

“Wow that's actually impressive,” Ruby mused as she turned her focus back to the setting sun. it was a bit longer than normal for them because they were flying high above Atlas itself. Sure, the temperature was well below zero, but their combined aura, plus Penny’s own internal heating units, kept the pair cozy as the sun dipped below the horizon.

In its wake, hues of pink and purple bled across the sky. It was mesmerizing to see and the contrast between the darkening sky and vibrant snow only served to enhance the moment. Yet that wasn’t the main show. Penny had gone on and on about the stars that shined down from the night sky. That it was truly beautiful to see their dance across their black stage, above the lights of the two cities below.

“There,” Penny suddenly cried out, and as Ruby shifted her head upward, the first of the night’s stars arrived. Its arrival was bright, a blast of blueish light that shone for miles in the darkness.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Ruby said as she watched the star continue to grow in brightness. A few times in Patch she had joined her dad on the porch for some stargazing but never had she seen something this dazzling.

“That is the Hope Star,” Penny stated, “said to be the star that gave the original settlers of Solitas hope for the next dawn,”

“Amazing,” Ruby mumbled, still mesmerized by its light.

“It is, but it’s what its part of that is really awe-inspiring,” Penny said, and just as Ruby was about to ask what she means, more glowing stars started to twinkle into life. Following those with a similar blue glow, she was able to make out a pair of wings. Her eyes widened in amazement at how such a thing could be made in the sky.

“It is just so…” and her voice trailed off as words failed her. The sheer spectacle of it was something she wouldn’t soon forget.

“I know,” Penny stated with a giggle, “I had a similar reaction when I first saw the Dove’s Wings too,”

“Dove’s Wings…is that? No, maybe” Ruby suddenly started craning her head all over the place.

“Ah, Ruby?” Penny broached, very worried about her friend’s sudden movements.

“Just checking something,” Ruby answered, “can you flip me for a second?”

“…Sure,” Penny answered, very confused. However, Ruby often knew what she was doing, and she was just asking to adjust her position. Soon she had Ruby’s legs around her gut, while she grasped Ruby’s hands to keep her from falling. For a minute all she heard was Ruby humming. “Did you see something Ruby?”

“Nah,” Ruby stated as she sat up, coming face to face with Penny. “Thought it might have been something my uncle showed me and Yang when he babysat us one night,”

“Oh, and what was that?” Penny asked as she shifted her arms to hug Ruby toward her.

“It was probably something he made up, called it the Crows,” Ruby stated, sarcasm rolling off her tongue. “He mentioned as some ill-omen for kids that don’t go to bed…Oh, he was making it up!” she suddenly declared, a scowl forming on her face. Penny couldn’t help herself and giggled at Ruby’s expression. “HEY!! I’m trying to be angry here,” Ruby cried out as her scowl turned into a frown.

“Heh, I’m sorry Ruby,” Penny said as she tried to get her giggles under control. “You just look adorable when you’re angry,” a statement that caused Ruby to flush with embarrassment. She quickly rested her head on Penny’s shoulder to try and hide her blush.

“You can’t say something like that Penny,” she complained, only to be answered by more of Penny’s laughs. However, her mood was quickly forgotten when she suddenly spotted an interesting pair of stars. “Yeah Penny, are those a part of anything special?”

“Huh?” Penny mumbled as she turned around. When she saw the stars, Ruby found, that a massive smile broke across her face. “Ah, my favorite,”

“Your favorite?” Ruby asked as she looked at the two stars. The leftmost one was shown with a green tint, almost similar to the color Penny herself wore quite often. Its twin to the right however was perhaps just a brighter white, though if Ruby squinted, she could make out traces of silver along its edges.

“Yes, it’s the Two Friends, see how the clusters around them form vague heads and that there are no stars between them,” Penny answered. “It was the first one I saw when I was rebuilt, it…it remained me of when we first met.”

Ruby’s breath was caught in her throat at that. Penny had just laid out a lot in that sentence. So much that neither had really discussed since her arrival in Atlas and seeing Penny again. She should say something, anything, well perhaps not anything. Her brain was blitzing through all her options.

Penny smiled as she watched Ruby overthink her words. She knew it wasn’t fair but she couldn’t help it, Ruby’s expressions just made her look so adorable. She didn’t need anything else from her friend, just this time with her under the stars.

And so, with Ruby still fumbling for words, and the stars shining behind her, Penny took another picture with her eyes. Another memory for her to remember the brave soul that she held in her arms.

#NNDWeek2022 #RWBY #Nuts-and-Dolts #Ruby-Rose #Penny-Polendina

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

hellooo An idea crossed my mind and i cannot stop thinking about your great mind making it possible what abou din djarin and reader having a fight. Mando is very protective. He basically shows than reader cannot keep themselve safe. That bothers reader and they run away. Mando tries not to worry, but finally he is running through the rain at the night begging for pardon. Very angst and happy ending

AN | I am apparently back in my Din feels because this...made me soft 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x GN!Reader

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Din woke up, it wasn’t because he was startled out of slumber by the little one, or an intruder - no. This was a much more pleasant way to wake up - to the smell of something delicious cooking. He rubbed his bleary eyes, almost as if making sure he was actually awake or just having a very realistic dream. Upon slowly sitting up and letting his feet hit the padded floor of the small bedroom, he discovered that it was all very much real.

A groan escaped his lips as he stretched and reached for a shirt to throw on before making his way down the kitchen. Despite having revealed his face to you, it seemed almost more intimate to reveal the rest of his body to you. Opening the door, half-expecting to see his green son, he was surprised to find nothing, but he did hear you in the kitchen.

Slowly shuffling his way down the hallway, a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. You were so absorbed in what you were doing that you didn’t seem to hear him. He watched you for a moment, noticing that you had Grogu sitting at your feet, playing with one of his favorite little toys. You were cooking something, he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it smelled delicious; he hadn’t even realized you’d have anything at the small refuge that could make something so delicious.

After a few moments, Grogu caught Din’s eye and cooed excitedly before slowly clambering over to him.

“What’s wrong?” you looked down at him, but he was quickly out of your sight, causing you to turn around and find Din watching you with a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes, “oh! I didn’t even hear you - how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” he leaned down and scooped Grogu up in his arms before gently clutching him to his chest in a tender hug, "you've been busy...I didn't even know we had anything to make something that smells so...good."

"That's because we didn't," you admitted with a small sheepish little grin, "I got up early and went to the market to get stuff for all of our favorites!"

"You...what?!" his eyes widened in surprise as your blood froze in your veins. He definitely ….did not sound happy, "you went to the market by yourself?"

"Yes - but it was only for a little while this morning. All I did was get some food, I swear," you grew nervous as he took a step closer, "everything was fine! There’s no need to worry.”

“Did anyone follow you back?” he asked, trying to calm the seemingly millions of racing thoughts that suddenly sprung up. Din could tell that you were scared at his sudden shift in demeanor, but he was just so worried.

“No?” it was a small whimper that left your lips, “I don’t think so...why would someone follow me?”

“See, that’s what I mean-” he stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed deeply. He wasn’t angry at you...it was just the worry and fear of not keeping you safe, “there are bad people hiding out in every corner of the galaxy. Even here, where it seems we’re safe for now. You can’t just trust people...if something had happened to you...I don’t know what I would do.”

“I just talked to the vendors, that’s all, I swear,” tears pricked at the back of your eyes as you backed up against the counter, “I can handle myself, at least for something so simple!”

“That’s just it, you can’t!” he’d never raised his voice like that against you and it was enough to just break you. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as you held back any comments, instead staring at the floor in silence, “it’s nothing against you. It’s just…”

“It’s fine,” you managed to choke out as you pushed past him to head back to your room. You didn’t even bother to turn off the stove or anything in your rush to get out. Din didn’t find it in himself to say anything as he watched you walk away. He hated himself in that moment for how he acted and had made you feel. He really did just want to keep you safe, that was his only intent, and yet he’d managed to even screw that up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You dabbed at your eyes as you finished loading up your small pack. It was the dead of the night and you were desperately hoping that Din and Grogu were fast asleep so you could make a quiet exit.

You didn’t really want to leave, and you didn’t want to let go of either of them, but if Din really didn’t think you were capable of handling yourself for even such a menial task, then did he trust you at all? This was a dangerous life, and you’d known that from the very first day that you’d met Din. But here you were, still at his side. Maybe he’d never wanted you here anyway…maybe he was just being polite. Either way, from here on out, he wasn’t going to have to deal with you any longer. It felt heavy in your heart, but right now it seemed like the right decision.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The door creaked slightly as you shut it, and for a moment your heart almost stopped, sure that the bounty hunter would have heard it. After a few beats of silence when no sounds had met your ears, you decided that you were in the clear and headed out in the dark wood. It was a beautiful refuge during the day, but in the dead of night, it sent a shiver down your spine.

A few drops of rain left onto your face as you hugged, lugging your pack higher on your back. If you kept going through the night, by the morning you’d be at the transit depo and could make your way from this planet and away from your boys.

You turned around and cast a forlorn look back at the small house that had served as a home for a few months now. You'd come here for a much break from the hustle of real life; you'd never thought it would lead to this.

Deciding it was best to go, you'd let a long sigh before turning on your heel and walking away, listening to the soft crunch of gravel under your feet.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din woke up with a start, waking up in the middle of an odd dream. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to steady breathing, wiping the sweat from his brow. He couldn’t place it exactly, but something was off. He hastily pushed back the blankets as he scrambled out of the bed and over to the small makeshift crib where Grogu was. The little one was sleeping soundly as he snoozed away, undisturbed by anything.

Huffing lightly, he opened the door to his room and walked down the hallway, pausing in front of your door. It was shut completely - a sure sign that something was up; you’d normally always kept it open just a crack. With his hand poised on the door handle, he paused to listen for any sounds, but when he didn’t hear anything, he slowly opened the door, whispering your name.

He looked around the room, his heart dropping into stomach as he realized that you were gone. Instinct kicked in and he ran out of the room and back to his, hastily reaching for any clothes he could find. Din didn’t even bother to make sure anything looked good, but finished with his boots and a blaster, grabbing Grogu gently and placing him in his bag. The child made a few sounds of discontent as he was suddenly woken up, but he too immediately sensed that something was wrong.

“Sorry,” he patted the top of little fuzzy head before throwing open the door and practically running out. By now, it was raining completely and he cursed him for not bringing an umbrella; but in reality it was the least of his concerns. He was able to quickly spot one of your boot prints in mud, and found your path from there. If he had nothing else going for him, at least he still had well honed skills as a hunter, “let’s go. We don’t have any time to lose.”

Grogu just made a worried little sound in response.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like you had been walking for hours and you left no nearer your destination than when you had started. But you had to keep walking - turning back wasn’t an option anymore. You heard something in the distance behind you, causing you to freeze in fear. Swallowing thickly, you decided to carry on without looking behind you.

But after a few beats, you kept hearing the same sounds and...was that your name? The hairs on your arm stood on end as you were positive that someone was calling your name. Your heart left like it was going to burst out of your chest as you stopped and slowly turned around.

An explosion of butterflies rumbled through your tummy as you spotted Din coming out of the wood, drenched as you were by the rain. An unreadable expression was on his face as he rushed toward you, Grogu poking his head out of the pouch and grinning when he realized it was. Your stomach flipped a little at the sight of your two favorite people as they came towards you. You raised your hand in a small wave, but rooted your feet on the ground.

“I found you...you’re safe,” he was breathless as he stopped in front of you, a small, hesitant smile tugging on his features, “I woke up and you were gone…”

“Yeah,” you managed to choke out as you shrugged lightly, “I figured...it might be better this way, I dunno. You said I couldn’t even handle myself, so I figured it’d be easier if I just took myself out of the equation.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he admittedly without pausing for even a moment, “I didn’t mean how it came out, and I’m sorry. I do think you can handle yourself and whatever you need, I can teach you. I feel like bantha fodder for what I said. I’m sorry.”

“‘s okay,” you whispered softly, “I was just thinking that maybe...maybe this is better for you. If it was just you and the kid. That way you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I want to worry about you,” he promised, causing you to look at him with eyes, a nervous expression on your face, “I...want to keep you safe. Here, with us.”

“Y-you do?” you met his eyes, finding them just as nervous as he tried to gauge your response.

“Yeah,” he laughed nervously, trying not to completely spill his heart onto his sleeve then and there. No - that could be saved for later, somewhere much warmer and dryer, “I shouldn’t have just reacted the way I did. And even if you don’t forgive me, I am truly sorry. I just had to tell you.”

“I forgive you,” a shy smile met his as you took his outstretched hand in yours, “I shouldn’t have reacted so dramatically either. I could have saved both of us from getting this wet...I...thank you for coming back for me.”

“I always will,” he squeezed your hand gently, “I promise.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pedro Character Taglist (strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings. Strikethroughs will get removed if not taggable)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @dodgerandevans @cannedsoupsucks @april-showers-and-flowers @klaine-92 @softboiipascal @rpcvliz @im-an-adult-ish @dobbyjen @thevoiceinyourheadx @niki-xie @jediknight122 @xxlovingfandomsxx @mrpascals @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @ilikemymendarkandfictional @actual-spawn-of-satan @wanderlust69 @lazybeeches @beskarboobs @someday-when-you-leave-me @leaiorganas @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @madslorian @artsymaddie @haildoodles @windfallss @spookispunk @nikkixostan @edencherries @stillshelbs @djarinbarnes @alyispunk @ayamenimthiriel @gallowsjoker @its–fandom–darling @star017 @amneris21 @empress-palpat1ne @cable-kenobi @gooddaykate @princeofdorne @natthebattygeologist @riddikulus-obsessions @sleep-tight1 @mamacitapascal @14mcmd1122 @leaiorganas @hoodedbirdie @kenzieam @dobbyjen @jedi-mando @milkxxkookies @lazybeeches @general-latino @jediknight122 @cosmoschick @recklessworry @jaime1110 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @thatnerdwriter @bestintheparsec @pascalisthepunkest @kristeng42 @rosie-posie08

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #soft hours!

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Note

Hello ! May I request a yan scaramouche x fatui harbinger reader? This is my first time sending a request, so I'm not sure what else to add..

I thought about answering this with headcanons only, but I like your idea enough, so my brain blurted out a small drabble to accompany them.

Yandere!Scaramouche x fatui harbinger!gn!reader

Scaramouche isn’t a type of person that is easy to please, as he can find fault in almost anything or anyone within a couple of minutes, a contemptuous scowl taking it’s usual place on his face. He dislikes his subordinates - they are stupid and slow and never get his orders right, despite how simple his commands are. He loathes ordinary people - they idle around and get in the way of his business. And, of course, he despises his colleagues - they're crazy and annoying bunch, starting from the battle obsessed ginger idiot and ending with just straight up insane scientist who likes to play god on other fatui underlings.

Not counting you, of course.

You see, there is always some exception from the rule, divergence from the median, unnatural anomaly, you.

It was hard at first, to comprehend that he actually liked you. He felt this weird warmth blooming in his chest as he looked at you, cheeks furiously heating up, and his eyes were searching for your face, and especially your lips, every time you had a meeting together. Every single time.

All it took for him to finally realize his feelings for you was some half serious comment from Childe, the moron joked that Scaramouche looked like a longing maiden, at which the shorter man snapped back with a couple of barbed insults that no doubt hurt Tartaglia’s ego.

Despite understanding his sentiments now, it didn’t make life easier in the slightest sense. On the contrary, Scaramouche was now aware how much in love he was with you - he was annoyed with himself for the first three weeks - and how much power you had over him.

It is frightening to know that he allowed himself to be ruled by his feelings alone like some foolish teen having a first crush. You reduced a great Harbinger to some love obsessed idiot. Scaramouche started to catch himself how hard it is to just stop staring at your form, devouring your face, legs and form with eyes alone, or how angry he gets once anyone other than him talks to you, be it other Harbingers, your underlings or even Tsaritsa herself.

Sometimes a desperate thought makes its way into his mind - to lock you up and hide from the whole world, to be the only person to touch, smell, taste and see you, to be the only one blessed to witness your beauty and hear your voice. Silly notion reappears in his head with a concerning frequency, and he sometimes even entertains it, consumed by his imagination for a far longer time that is healthy

Nonetheless, Scaramouche always has to discard the idea - it is a mad, perverse and unobtainable image - no matter how much he lusts after you and pictures you all good and docile just for him, you are still a Harbinger, his equal in everything, including the power. If only you were some underling or even civilian, then he wouldn’t need to feign indifference in your presence, or stop some of his less than pleasant urges. He could just snatch you and chain you, train to be a good little toy just for him, happy to serve it’s master and owner.

Oh how sweet you would moan and beg under him, how much you would do to please him. Scaramouche could break you and rebuild from scratch, make sure that there is nothing but him in your pretty head, match his obsession with you with a love he would force you to learn. He could be your god and the world, replace everything in your life with his presence alone. Sadly, there’s no way Scaramouche can get away with this when you are his equal.

Fortunately for him, there are ways fatuis even as high and mighty as Harbingers can still lose their title. The easiest one is to disappoint Tsaritsa - fail enough tasks, mess up significant missions or cause an international conflict, you pick it.

It’s a traitorous and dangerous thought - sabotage of the fellow harbinger, something that would prompt his own demotion or even dismissal if someone got wind of what he plans. But, Scaramouche muses, it’s also a game worth playing - he can lose everything if he fails, but he’ll get you if he wins. He just needs to trick you to ruin your reputation and attract the ire of the cryo archon.

“Hello”, he says, approaching you after the usual harbinger gathering, a fake smile plastered on his face: “I want to help you with that mission Tsaritsa gave you”.

You look at him with an unreadable gaze, brows furrowed in contemplation: “Why would you offer your help?”

“I don’t want Tsaritsa or Fatui to be at a disadvantage, this task is really hard. I am not questioning Tsaritsa’s judgement, but Qixing started to be really suspicious of us, especially after that idiot, Tartaglia, almost drowned the whole city”. He tries to keep his usual slightly annoyed, slightly angered manner of talking, hoping that you won’t question him.

It works - “All right”, you nod offering an intel spies have collected, and start introducing him to what you plan to do. He intently listens, feeling how his fake smile grows into a genuine one.

Headcanons

Scaramouche is smitten - his eyes trail you, he takes your every word like a holy scripture, he gets so flustered when you just look his way, yet he never shows it to you, a bored facade appearing every time you pay him even a gram of attention.

You, most likely, won't even be aware of his crush growing into obsession - Scaramouche is a skilled actor, capable of showing thousands of different emotions seconds, effortlessly switching between the masks.

Despite the gentle feelings he has fpr, Scaramouche also possesses much darker urges that he doesn't want to stop.

He is very possessive, getting angry every time you talk with anyone other than him.

He likes to picture you obedient and docile, worshipping him like a God. He thinks he deserves it.

The balance in the power between you two is something that really bothers him - he wants you to be completely dependent on him, vulnerable before any wish and perversion he could subject you to.

Will try to sabotage you as a harbinger in hopes that you lose your title and power.

If you somehow remain infallible to his schemes and plans he will try to actually befriend you.

It's an arduous task, none of the harbingers really like each other enough to build such intimate connections, and both you and Scaramouche know it.

If you have a lesser rank than him, he will try to come off as a well meaning senior. If he is the one with a lesser title, then he will feign ignorance and ask for assistance.

All in all, your fate depends on how smart and cautious you are around Scaramouche. If you are perceptive enough he will have to face one defeat after the other, lessenning his resolve.

Don't think that it will be enough to stop him from trying, though.

#Yandere Scaramouche x reader #Yandere Scaramouche #Yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #Scaramouche #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin x reader #I see a little silhouetto of a man #my writing

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onmykneesforhotdilfs · 3 years

Text

Tilt

Bloom smiled as a butler offered her a crystal glass filled with, what she assumed was, very expensive champagne. She nodded gratefully as she took a sip, and then promptly had to physically stop herself from spitting it right back out. Either the champagne wasn’t as good as she expected or officials of Isis simply decided to serve something from the supermarket, while hoping that no one would notice. Then again, Bloom mused, it might just be that my taste buds are so used to the $10 wine so everything fancier just tastes like crap.

She shook her head and crossed her arms underneath the bustier of her skintone, off the shoulder gown with baby blue flowers scattered across the top and sporadically across the skirt as well. The nude color made her appear more tan than she actually was and while the dress was indeed very beautiful, it was just as uncomfortable. Bloom winced as shifting weight from one stiletto clad foot to another sent white hot signal of pain when one of the wires supporting her bustier stabbed her in the ribs. She bit the inside of her cheek to in order to stop herself from simply burning the fabric.

A cheerful laugh of her best friend snapped her out of her trance. Stella emerged from the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, her asymmetrical off shoulder gown highlighting every curve on her body perfectly. Long purple sleeve blended with yellow in a way Bloom didn’t even deem possible considering how different two colors are. Her other arm, that was completely sleeveless, sported some golden jewelry and floor length gown swept the floor elegantly with Stella’s every step. She was holding the same glass, filled with same champagne as Bloom, with her well manicured fingers. As soon as Stella was within arm’s reach, she grabbed Bloom’s elbow and leaned close to her, smile completely disappeared from her face.

“This stuff is absolutely disgusting.” Stella spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh really?” Bloom asked as smirk slowly rose on her lips. “And here I thought you preferred this,” she lifted a fancy glass into the air, “over my cheap wine.”

“Anything is better than this, for the lack of a better word, crap.” Stella scoffed. “This would’ve never happened on Solaria.” She tilted the glass once again to take a sip in hope it somehow started tasting better but ended up disappointed. Bloom almost laughed at Stella’s expression. “But then again, should I have expected anything more from a planet Diaspro came from?”

Bloom almost winced at the mention of a woman that had the ability to mess up her relationship with Sky like no other. The latest stunt she pulled, thanks to Valtor, only made Bloom more angry at everybody that turned a blind eye to her actions simply because she is a princess. It was only then that the thought occurred to her, that Diaspro might be here and that she might ruin their mission. She glanced nervously around the hall, panicking more the longer she couldn’t find her.

Stella, recognizing Bloom’s ‘two breaths away from having a panic attack' look on her face, was quick to put a calming hand on her shoulder. Bloom recoiled slightly but Stella gripped the flesh lightly in order to ground her. She leaned closer to whisper in Bloom’s ear. “Relax, she’s not here. Apparently her parents don’t allow her to go to events where his highness, prince Sky of Eraklyon, might be present.”

Sarcasm was obvious in Stella’s voice but it served the purpose of calming Bloom to the point where she actually start thinking lucidly again.

Bloom took a deep breath as her shoulders slouched slightly forward. “Thank you.” She whispered to Stella. Then, the actual sentences Stella was saying caught up to her and her eyebrows touched her hairline in obvious amusement. “Still angry at Sky I see?”

Stella snorted and wrinkled her nose at the mention of Sky’s name. “If you were smarter, you’d be angry too.”

“Hey!” Bloom yelped angrily but settled down quickly as she looked away. “I am angry at him.”

“Apparently not enough.” Stella gripped the glass so hard her knuckles turned white. “I mean, what’s up with him suddenly becoming a poster boy and actually listening to what his daddy says?”

“Well, technically, Sky’s meeting with Diaspro or her parents might cause interplanetary scandal between Eraklyon and Isis.” Bloom spoke in Techna's voice.

Stella’s lip twitched. “Still, interplanetary scandal or a potential threat of one never actually stopped him from going against orders before. So my question still remains.”

“Any sign of Valtor?” Bloom asked, hoping to divert the route of conversation.

“I just spoke to Techna. He hasn’t been detected and Amplificarum is still safely locked in the vault.”

“He’ll show up eventually.” Bloom nodded absentmindedly. “He always does.”

“See this, this right here,” Stella pointed to the marble floor and Bloom lowered her gaze to the direction her finger was indicating but furrowed her brows when she found nothing. “This is why Sky should be here.” Bloom’s lips shaped into a thin line whe she realized what she was talking about as Stella continued to rant. “Isn’t he concerned that Valtor might attack and something might happen to you?”

Bloom gasped. “I’m not some… damsel in distress that needs saving Stella!” She scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

“C’mon Bloom, don’t give me that.”

“Well what do you want me to say Stell? That I’m angry? Disappointed? Fine. I’m disappointed that Sky chose to follow the order from his father when I wanted him to come with me. He most certainly could've found another solution but he did nothing. Instead he left me to face, potentially Diaspro and Valtor alone. There! Was that enough? Are you happy now?” Bloom’s cheeks were red by the time she finished her rant as her chest continued rising up and down in order to return much needed oxygen into her lungs, her exhaustion more due to stress than the actual rant.

Stella smiled and patted Bloom on the shoulder. “There you go. Now was that so hard to say?”

“What?”

“Nevermind that, anyway, be sure to tell him that next time, ok?”

Bloom rolled her eyes but a smile threatened to spread on her face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Mhm, that’s why you love me so much.” Stella spoke with an obvious pride evident in her voice.

“Yeah, let’s just say you’re lucky I do.” Bloom shook her head and grabbed Stella’s elbow as she spotted a familiar short brown hair emerging from the crowd. “There’s Brandon.” She turned to Stella and pointed to where she saw him. “Go bother him for a while.”

Stella pouted and stuck her tongue out playfully at Bloom but strutted off towards her boyfriend, leaving Bloom alone.

With Stella gone, all of Bloom’s physical discomfort came rushing back and hitting her like a rogue train. Her feet ached, her head started hurting from the tight updo and she was pretty sure the wire that poked her in the ribs has punctured her skin. She felt the tender area with her opposite hand as much as she dared and exhaled short puff of air when she found nothing. She wanted to sit down or maybe even lay down and then not move for a few days.

She shook her head and took a sip of her disgusting drink in order to wake herself up. She looked around the dancefloor, automatically finding Stella and Brandon as they swayed to the rhythm. Techna and Timmy were huddled in the corner probably discussing something about technology. Musa and Riven were also in the corner, be it on the opposite side from Techna, which greatly surprised Bloom because Musa was more often than not first on the dancefloor alongside Layla (though club suited them more, but the two always found a way to fit in anywhere), but right now dancefloor seemed like the last place Musa wanted to be. Instead, fairy of music was busy glaring daggers at her boyfriend that seemed to pay little to no attention to them.

Bloom rolled her eyes at the two of them (not that her and Sky were any better) and focused on finding Layla that also, surprisingly, decided to go solo on this mission. She found her talking to some Isis official that she probably knew due to her status. With Layla’s position in mind, bloom turned to finding the last couple but Flora and Helia were nowhere to be found so Bloom assumed they were probably taking a stroll in the garden.

With those in mind, Bloom once again diverted her eyes from the dancefloor and looked at the champagne bubbling in her glass as her thoughts ran over the information she remembered about Amplificarum.

Apparently, the green stone, by physical appearance almost indistinguishable from emerald, had the power to magnify any spells or beams aimed at something. Or someone, Bloom thought. It was most commonly used for protection spells and it generally wasn’t meant for offensive spellwork. Bloom somehow had doubts Valtor will use it for protection spells. The sheer thought of chaos that could potentially happen if such artifact ever fell into Valtor’s, or anyone’s wrong hands, made Bloom shudder all over and grip her champagne glass bit tighter. That can never be allowed to happen. It’s why you’re here. There’s no way he will be able to slip in and out undetected with eleven pairs of eyes looking for him.

Bloom couldn’t deny that Valtor is the most powerful, and quite frankly the most cunning, villain they ever had the pleasure of meeting. What irked her to the point of madness, however, was the fact that Valtor always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

The battles are like chess game. Daphne’s voice sounded in her head. In order to defeat your opponent you have to figure out their strategy. You have to master the art of reading their moves and find a way to turn the odds in your favor.

It was not hard to guess who played certain roles in this game though. She was an amateur, an amateur that was loosing valuable chess pieces battle after battle whereas Valtor was a professional that suffered minor losses here and there but still had the most prized figurines in the game. It didn’t take a professional chess player to see that the odds were most definitely not in Bloom’s favor.

He’ll slip sooner or later. Bloom thought with a smile. Even Valtor can make a mistake. And it takes only a second, a slip of concentration, a lapse in judgment and the board will tilt in our direction. Even an amateur can get lucky and stometimes, the pawn can be the most powerful piece capable of settling the final score, so don’t sell yourself short.

Bloom was so distracted by her mental pep talk that she failed to notice one of the guests approach.

“This stuff they’re serving us,” Bloom jumped as a deep melodic voice rang out next to her. “it’s not something I expected from Isis royal court.”

The stranger came to stand almost arm to arm with her, but she also noticed she was almost two heads shorter than him.

“In a good, or a bad way?” Bloom asked with a frown. The stranger has short brown hair styled to a perfection, not even a hair out of place. From what she could see from the side without being too obvious, she noticed he had perfectly straight nose and an overall boyish appearance.

The stranger lifted one of his eyebrows curiously. “Have you tried that?” He pointed to her glass.

“Yes.”

“And how does it taste?”

“Like a hair conditioner.”

He nodded approvingly. “Interesting comparison. Not inaccurate though. Well Miss, I think you just answered your own question.”

Despite all odds, Bloom found herself smiling at stranger’s antics and clever quips. “I am sorry but I don’t think I got your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.”

Okay, rude.

“Well,” she forced out, “would you be so kind to give me your name then?” Bloom really hoped her smile was more convincing than her words.

“There’s no need, Bloom. You already know my name.” Bloom’s smile vanished as the man finally turned to face her, the unique icy colored eyes she only saw on one particular individual looking straight into her wider-than-dinnerplates blue ones. She felt a bead of sweat roll down the thin column of her neck and disappear into her cleavage.

Bloom gulped.

Valtor smirked.

“You!” was the only thing that came out of her mouth.

He shook his head, his eyebrows set in a frown as he let out a disappointed huff. “That is not my name princess. You might wish to try again.”

“What are you doing here, Valtor?” Bloom managed through gritted teeth.

“Oh so you do remember.” Valtor smirked like the cat who got all the cream. “Good. Otherwise I would have to remind you and I really don’t want to spoil anyone’s evening.”

“As if you need me, or anyone, for that!” Bloom whisper-yelled as her eyes darted desperately across the room, trying to locate her team.

“Now now,” Valtor cooed, “it is not polite to look away from the person you’re having a conversation with, Bloom. Someone should’ve taught you proper manners.”

Bloom gasped as she felt the dragon fire raging in her chest, the effect much more intense than she’s ever experienced before. She swayed slightly on her feet and she raised her unoccupied arm to clutch lightly at her chest. The world was spinning in front of her eyes and just as she feared she might topple over, one of Valtor’s large hands grasped her bicep and the forest fire that burned in her turned into smoldering ashes.

Bloom leaned slightly on her side, Valtor’s arm acting like an anchor as she fought to regain her breath.

“What,” she rasped out, her voice hoarse like she just inhaled smoke, “was that?”

“Just a reminder that you should not antagonize me.” Valtor’s voice was cold and sharp and it made her swallow down a snarky response.

“Is that how you snuck past Techna and me?” The pain was gone but her legs still felt wobbly and she was forced to hold onto Valtor in order to remain standing. “A cloaking spell?”

“If the shoe fits…” he trailed off as Bloom stood up to her full height but despite the heels she wore, Valtor noted with a slight amusement, only managed to reach his shoulders. The glare princess of Domino sent him would make a lesser man run to his mom but it only made Valtor grin. Bloom ripped her arm from his grasp and he had to bite his lip to stifle a chuckle that threatened to escape as Bloom stumbled slightly when he willingly let her go.

Bloom mumbled something that even his heighten senses couldn’t pick up. “I apologize darling, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?”

“I said that if you turn around and bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits.”

Valtor was in stupor for a minute, but then a surprised chuckle broke through his lips and his shoulders started shaking from the laughter he tried, and was slowly failing at, keeping contained. “Oh, and she bites.”

Valtor continued laughing sporadically, stopping for a few moments only to start up again. The lines around his eyes crinkled and Bloom found herself fascinated by how melodic and pleasant his laugh sounded. The thought only lasted for a few seconds before Bloom stomped on it with a part of her brain that was still capable of making rational thoughts. Get it together, Bloom.

“If you’re quite done,” Bloom spoke, her cheeks red from rather unorthodox behavior she exhibited few minutes ago, “how about you tell me what are you doing here, finally?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“Forget it, you’re not getting it!” She turned to face him fully, her eyes boring a hole into the side of his head.

Valtor lifted his eyebrows as if to say ‘Really?’, mockery clear in his eyes. “Are you going to stop me?”

Bloom nodded. “I am.”

Valtor shook his head, smile on his face, amused by her confident tone. She thinks she’s a match for me. Silly girl. He was just about to tell her as much when the music that played as more of a background noise, suddenly became louder, loud to the point it drowned out all the chatter in the room.

Bloom almost jumped out of her skin when the orchestra started playing, loudly. She flinched, however, when she once again felt Valtor’s huge hand on her body. This time his palm was not in a direct contact with her skin but the unusual placement of the said appendage caused her to panic. His hand landed on the small of her back and it was quite persistently pushing her forward, straight onto the dancefloor between other couples.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed through clenched teeth, sparks flaring at her fingertips, beginnings of an offensive spell already forming on her vocal cords.

“We are dancing.” His calm voice only made her more angry and she started struggling against the force pushing her forward.

“I don’t want to dance. Let me go.”

He stopped just short of the line separating area designed for dancing and bowed down theatrically while offering his hand to her. “May I have this dance, Miss?”

Few people closest to them turned around at the sound of his voice and Bloom had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to claw his eyes out. “No, you can’t!” She huffed out quietly instead, her neck and cheeks turning red from anger. “I told you, I don’t want to dance and I most certainly do not want to dance with the likes of you!"

“You wound me princess, truly. I don’t bite… not unless you want me to, of course.”

Bloom’s nostrils flared and flames began to dance in her eyes. What insolence.

“Let’s make a deal, princess of Domino.” He interrupted her just as smoke was about to start coming out of her ears. “You let me have this dance, and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know and I promise to tell the truth.”

“Why should I trust you?” She raised her eyebrows but it was obvious she was interested.

“You shouldn’t.” He tilted his head to the side as smile stretched across his lips. “But that never stopped you before.”

Sea blue met the arctic ice. A spark erupted and the coldness of his gaze melted away. “I give you my word.” His hand was still hovering in the air, his palm opened in invitation as he tilted his head in the direction of the dancefloor.

Bloom weighed her options. For as far as she knew, this could be another one of Valtor’s tricks to gain the information from her instead of vice versa. But the burning questions only he had the answers to kept pressing on the part of her brain that was telling her how much of a madness this was. Bloom sighed. Her hand rose hesitantly and slowly took hold of Valtor’s.

“One dance. That’s all you get.”

“That’s all I’ll need.”

He gripped Bloom’s fingers bit tighter as he lead her into the classic pose with his unoccupied hand placed on her lower back, lower than socially accepted when dancing with someone you do not know, but still in the safe zone that didn’t ask for Bloom to knee him in the balls. His other hand loosened around her fingers and now gently supported her palm. Instead of placing her other arm on Valtor’s shoulder, Bloom gripped one side of her skirt so she could move freely and to minimize contact. He looked down , searching her face, but Bloom turned her head in the opposite direction.

Valtor was never the one to blatantly display his emotions but Bloom’s refusal to look him in the eyes was one thing that almost made him boil. He didn’t know why the daughter of those that defeated him had such effect on him and he didn’t like it. He hated not knowing what was running through her head, especially in the place where he was in an obvious disadvantage concerning numbers of the two opposing teams. During his careful observation, he counted eleven of them, and there was only one of him. Not like any of them actually pose any threat, he mused. The only one that is able to even remotely challenge me is the one I’m dancing with and from this proximity she can be easily taken care of. He studied her posture, how her eyes avoided his at all cost, how her back stood stiff like someone stuck a pole to her spine, how tightly she gripped her skirt as he moved with her elegantly. It was obvious she was not enjoying this. Well then, let’s make you even more uncomfortable.

Without warning, Valtor pulled Bloom closer to his body, upper body completely pressed against hers, one of his legs between both of hers as her head snapped up to look at his cheeky smile. Fire was blazing in her eyes but Valtor didn’t care. He thrived on her reactions. Bloom squeezed the hand that was holding hers in warning but Valtor only gripped the flesh of her hip in response. Devils were dancing in his eyes but to Bloom they looked alive for the first time. Gone was the icy look capable of making even the best trained soldier hesitate before rushing into the battle against him.

He’s genuinely amused by this. She thought. If only be wasn’t having fun at my expense, I might’ve let it slide. Valtor twirled her around other dancing couples, his graceful steps never flattering, and it occurred to Bloom for the first time that she actually didn’t step on his toes even once.

“How are you doing this?” She asked him as he swung her away from himself, only to bring her in again, her back to his front, both of his hands gripping her hips. In her peripheral vision, she saw him rise his eyebrow. “I’ve never been good at dancing.”

Valtor smirked. “Perhaps you’ve never had a good enough partner.”

Judging by the tone of his voice, he was mocking Sky openly so Bloom miscalculated and stepped with the heel of her foot onto his polished shoe. She heard him grunt as, what she assumed was a curse, left his mouth. She smiled. If you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.

“What happened to my parents?” Her next question made him quirk an eyebrow and she saw his eyes widen for a second before he regained his bearings.

“What did Faragonda tell you?” He answered her questions with one of his own and that made her irrationally angry for some reason.

“I asked you first.” She bit her tongue before insults started spewing out of her mouth. She realized long ago that snarky comments only made him more angry so she wasn’t willing to risk her one chance. “Answer me.”

“Do you think you are in position to demand anything, heiress of the lost kingdom?” Anger was starting to creep up in his voice as he dipped her low and snapped her back up harsher than necessary.

Bloom gasped as she suddenly found herself in an almost horizontal position. “You promised.”

Valtor assumed their previous position, except this time he lowered his head so his breath would graze her neck when he spoke. He sighed and goosebumps rose on Bloom’s skin as his hot breath washed over her collarbones and sternum.

“The truth is, I do not know what happened to your parents. I was imprisoned before the final battle. As far as I’m aware, ancient witches were the last to see them.”

Bloom swallowed. “That’s not Faragonda’s version.”

Valtor laughed, though his laugh was somehow bitter. “And you, as a good fairy, believe everything that your headmistress says don’t you?”

“And who am I supposed to trust? You?”

“Have you ever wondered why,” he repositioned her hand slightly as he side stepped to avoid the couple that was directly on a collision course with them. The sudden movement made the lock of Bloom’s hair wiggle out of her bun. “your headmistress send bunch of barely legal girls to suicide missions against the powerful enemies such as myself?”

“Because she trusts us?”

“Because she has an underlying motive.” He continued when Bloom scoffed. “Think about it. Can you honestly tell me your headmistress provides you with all the available information before she sends you off into battles?”

His question made her think of all the times Faragonda withheld the valuable information because she deemed it necessary and she bit her lip as realization hit her. “That doesn’t make her evil.”

“I never said it made her evil.” Smirk once again climbed on her face. “She’s cunning alright, but not cunning enough to be considered evil.”

“What’s her underlying motive according to your expertise?”

He shrugged carelessly. “Everybody needs someone to do their dirty work.”

“Like you have Trix?” Bloom raised her eyebrows in question.

“Don’t remind me.” He groaned. “Those three are as incompetent as they get.”

They danced in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few seconds, Valtor’s capable hands leading them. “You never answered my question.” Bloom said.

“What question?”

“How are you doing this?” She tilted her head slightly to their intertwined hands.

The edge of Valtor’s lips turned upwards. “You know how I’m doing it.”

Bloom frowned in confusion. “No, I actually really don’t.”

“Yes you do.” She was about to open her mouth to protest and to ask him what the hell he’s playing at, but he was faster than her. “You just have to let yourself feel it.”

Bloom’s shoulders tensed as the feeling of her native fire burning spread across her whole body. Okay, this is new.

“Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

Bloom locked eyes with Valtor as he bent slightly in the knees, his hands gripped her hips tightly and her hands automatically came to rest on his broad shoulders, as he lifted her up and then, with care she didn’t know he was capable of, lowered her back to the ground. There was something hypnotic about his eyes and Bloom found herself unable to look away as she fought to regain her breath once her feet touched the ground again.

Whatever moment they shared was interrupted by a horrendous sound of alarm blaring and all the lights going off at the same time as explosion sounded somewhere above them. Valtor smirked as Bloom recoiled from him as if he burned her. Her hands lit on fire as people started screaming around her and moving away from them.

Valtor could hear Bloom’s friends calling her name as they pushed through the crowd of panicked guests.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it!?” Anger was obvious in her eyes and Valtor found himself fascinated as the fiery glow from her hands reflected in her irises. What he would do to have her on his side.

He shook himself out of his stupor as he snapped his fingers, letting his disguise slip off. Short brown hair and boyish look was replaced by long strawberry blond hair and his face morphed back into high cheekbones and sharp jaw. “I would love to continue our conversation,” he raised his arm and shot blindly towards the ceiling, blowing a huge hole into it. “however, I believe that my time has run out.”

Distant flashes lit up and Winx finally emerged from the crowd, sparkly outfits and huge wings on point. Bloom was the only one that remained in her normal attire, her hands showing no sign of burning out anytime soon, as she kept shooting daggers at Valtor with her eyes.

“It’s a shame I wasn’t able to answer more of your questions, Bloom. But I don’t think this is our last meeting.” Valtor grinned, thirty two pearly white teeth on display. “Besides,” he drawled as Icy flew from the direction of the vault Amplificarum was locked in, green gem standing out against the pale skin of her hand. “you know where to find me.”

“Solar energy!” Stella’s arm shot up, spell hurtling straight towards Valtor, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash as his hand rose to absorb the spell.

“Stop in the name of the law!” Armed soldiers and specialists started breaking through, their weapons and swords drawn and ready for a fight.

Valtor’s laugh echoed in the room as he shot off towards the hole in the ceiling, his mouth reciting the spell Bloom was quite familiar with. “Have the taste of your own medicine, princess of Solaria.”

Bloom barely had time to put up a shield as Stella’s own amplified spell was hurled back to them, painting the whole room in white hot glow, forcing everyone to close their eyes so they don’t go blind.

When Bloom finally gathered enough strength to open her eyes, Valtor was nowhere to be seen and people, specialists, guards and her team were slowly climbing back on their feet. Remnants of Stella’s spell still lingered in the air, making the room uncomfortably bright and forcing Bloom to squint.

“He did it again.” Stella spoke next to her and Bloom nodded absentmindedly as Stella continued looking around. “He used a heightened version of my spell… it’s a miracle no one’s been hurt.”

Bloom shook her head. “I don’t think he meant to hurt anyone Stell. He obviously needed a distraction to get away.”

“He doesn’t want unnecessary pain and destruction… you told me that’s what he said to you on Andros.”

Bloom nodded. “I think he managed to fulfill his promise, for once.”

Bloom looked up where Valtor made his exit and couldn’t help but to think that the chessboard once again tilted in his favor.

#sparxshipping #bloom x valtor #bloom x baltor #baltor x bloom #valtor x bloom #bloom #valtor #winx #winx club #winx bloom #winx valtor

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

heart of gold (chapter one)

pairing: robert plant x florence bennett (oc)

warnings: domestic abuse, misogyny, description of (past) injury, just... absolute fuckery

words: 3.3k

summary: trapped in a loveless marriage to a powerful man, florence bennett lives every day in despair. after a chance encounter with a golden-haired actor, florence finds that her life will never be the same again.

author’s note: so. this is a nice little period piece, because what else am i gonna do with the history degree i'm studying for. please note that the views of one mr. bennett (and friends) are not my own. hope you enjoy :) feedback, as always, is appreciated!

masterlist

playlist

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Nightgown swaying in the soft breeze of a crisp fall morning, Florence stands outside the door of the ornate music room. Notes of beautiful melancholy and bitter hope filter softly through the wooden door, slightly ajar, a broken barrier to the outside world.

Looking through the small crack, Florence gazes upon the face of her friend and confidante, John Paul Jones. Too enthralled in his playing to notice the distraction, he never lets up, heavenly melodies echoing against the marble walls.

John was rather short, thin, with straight tawny hair that framed his strong jaw, softening his face. His stormy gray eyes and high cheekbones give the immediate impression of royalty, of which he was not. A lowly servant of the master of the gorgeous manor, Mr. Allen Bennett, John’s time was divided between his seemingly never-ending list of chores and his music.

An orphan from an early age, John was adopted into the local church and took what little knowledge of the piano that remained from his childhood and put it to good use. Listening to the man playing now, it is apparent that he had kept this skill sharp.

“That is a beautiful song, John,” Florence giggles, a beaming smile on her face at the sight of her friend sitting at the sleek grand piano. “I would appreciate you teaching me to play this well, though I know that my lovely husband would rather die than to see me touch a single key on this beautiful instrument. The bloody bastard.”

“Ah, what lovely words from a lovely woman… Florence, I don’t necessarily disagree with you, but I’m not sure we should be insulting your husband in such an open space.”

“John, my dear friend, I do apologize for my sharp tongue, but I believe it is warranted,” Florence says, taking a seat beside John, smoothing her lace nightgown. John’s fingers still press softly on the piano keys, as he plays a simple tune. “I’ve seen the way he treats you and the servants. As much as I wish to change this for you and the others, I am powerless. This is the only way I may hope to keep my sanity.”

“Very well,” John says, a soft laugh punctuating the end of his sentence. “Though I hope, for your sake, that he doesn’t catch wind of this, or else we are both in trouble!”

“John, pardon me, but I do need to take Florence off your hands for now.”

John’s hands pause, the room falling into silence.

A soft voice belonging to one James Page filters through the open door, interrupting the moment between the two friends. A lean man of average height, with a shock of long midnight curls and eyes a kaleidoscope of colour, James Page is yet another servant indebted to the cruel Mr. Bennett. Whereas John tends to steer clear of the man, and subsequently, punishment, James witnesses Bennett’s anger much too often. Unwilling to submit to Bennett’s furious dictatorship, he often receives the brunt of the man’s mistreatment.

Upon entering the music room, a dark bruise is visible, blossoming on the man’s eye, surely another ‘reward’ for his defiance. James sends the pair a shy smile, and with twin looks of concern, John and Florence take in the state of their friend.

“James! My goodness, your eye looksー”

“It’s nothing, John.”

“Nothing? That certainly looks likeー”

“It is nothing that hasn’t happened before. Please leave it, Florence.”

“A-Alright… What did you need, James?” Florence says, absentmindedly twiddling her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Well, my friend, a certain someone is going to be requesting your presence very soon. I thought it best to warn you ahead of time, so you can prepare.”

With a smile thrown to John over her shoulder, Florence bounds over to her raven-haired friend, hooking an arm through his. James, comfortable with the casual touch of the woman, leads her to her room with a final wave to John.

Navigating through the maze of grand halls of the manor, the wealth of the owner is more noticeable. Shades of red and gold flirt with rich browns, lit by immense crystal chandeliers. Priceless paintings adorn the walls, trapped, much like the lady of the house, in embellished shining frames, just expensive enough to throw shadows on the pain and suffering that happens under the surface.

Not yet rid of the worry that James’s beaten appearance had brought her, Florence unlinks their arms. Ensuring the door to her bedroom is shut, she pulls James closer to her with a hand on his elbow. Her other hand flies to his face, assessing the damage done to it.

“James, I am aware that you do not wish to submit to my husband. That is your choice to make. I will stand by you, always.”

“I appreciate this, my friend.”

“But you must be careful. You don’t know what he is capable of, and neither do I,” says Florence, a grave look of concern gracing her features. “James, I need you here with John and I, not 6 feet underground in an unmarked grave. I know it is not in your nature, but please do try and be careful?”

“I will try,” James’ hand raises, landing in his long dark hair. Raking his nails across his scalp, his lips lift into a crooked smirk. “Though this is an interesting development.”

“Pardon me?”

“The wife of the madman has a heart. And I thought this trope was only found in the books shelved in that gigantic library of yours.” James’ chuckle echoes across the grand hallway. Usually filled with suffocating silence, the halls of the manor serve as another reminder of the terror that fills its occupants. “Now, I understand that you have afternoon tea with Mr. Bennett and his mother, so I will leave you to prepare.”

And with that, the stubborn servant is gone with a click of the closing door.

Minutes later, Florence, finally dressed in a ruffled scarlet dress, a sunhat perched on her head, reaches out to turn the doorknob.

A second too slow.

The door is opened from the other side, and the woman is met with the face of her husband, mouth contorted into a permanent frown.

Allen Bennett was a short, burly man, with close-cropped hair and dark eyes. What he lacked in height he made up for in power and prestige, swindling people out of their money in back alley deals at night, and running the city as mayor by day. This man is not to be crossed, and he knows it. Everybody does.

Gazing at his wife with disinterest, he scoffs, immediately glimpsing the beautiful dress she is wearing. His eyes almost glow in their anger.

“Hm. I thought I had told you that dress looks atrocious on you before. Take it off right this instant. You are not a whore, my love, so you will not dress like one.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Wonderful. I expect you in the foyer in 20 minutes, not a minute later. We must attend a meeting with my mother. I am sure you have been notified of this.”

“Yes, dear.”

With a quick peck on the lips of his wife, Mr. Bennett is gone, and the unfortunate Ms. Bennett feels as though she can finally breathe again. Changing into a sky blue number, she is struck by the thought that this cannot last forever. This treatment of the servants and of Florence herself. The control this vile man has over everyone. The unhappiness and unease he supplies wherever he goes.

This simply cannot last, can it?

-------------------

“Florence. Are you listening, dearie?” A grating, sickly sweet voice breaks the woman from her reverie, a storm in her sea of dreams. Florence takes a sip of her tea and smiles apologetically at the older woman across from her. The woman, satisfied once more, launches into a tedious story about her shopping excursion the day before. Feigning delight at the tale, Florence’s eyes travel around the sun-lit tearoom, with its gleaming surfaces and tall, gold-lined ceilings. Truly a beautiful creation.

“... And, my son, as I was exiting the shop on St. Thomas’s Street, you know the one…” Florence catches the eyes of her husband, glaringly angry as per usual, and at this, she realizes the older woman had paused in her story once more, shooting her an irate scowl.

“Mrs. Bennett, I must apologize for my inattention. My mind was indeed elsewhere, I am terribly sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, girl. Does my son deal with this offensive daydreaming as well? If he does, we must fix this immediately!” Mrs. Bennett titters, cigarette dangling precariously from her lips.

“Mother, it’s quite alright. You mustn't worry about this,” Allen says, leering at his wife as though she was a prize to be won. “My wife knows her place. At least I do hope she does…” The mother and son erupt into giddy laughter at the horrible joke, Florence following uncomfortably, quivering smile creasing her face.

“My goodness,” Mrs. Bennett wipes her eyes of phantom tears with a lily white handkerchief. The woman takes a drag of her cigarette, and huffs a plume of smoke in Florence’s face. “How old are you now, dearie?”

“A month ago, I reached my 23rd birthday. Allen bought a beautifully crafted sapphire bracelet for the occasion.”

“So thoughtful, my son. You are of age, of course. May I ask when you two are planning to conceive?”

“Well, as of this moment, we were notー”

“You may still be… young, but the only use you are to us, my dear, is to create a wonderful child,” Mrs. Bennett, eyes scrunched up in mock kindness, takes the young woman’s hands from across the table and strokes her thumb across the elegant wrist. “I know you would be a very capable mother. As a result of this, I am expecting a lovely grandson or daughter to call my own.”

“O-of course… Thank you for your counsel, Mrs. Bennett.”

“My pleasure, dear. Now, my son, where was I…?” The woman says, launching into her story once more. “Ah, yes…”

Florence, try as she had, could not take her mind off of the words of the matriarch. As a young girl, she had wished to be a writer, a musician, maybe. What she had not planned for was a truly unhappy marriage to an evil man, doomed to the static life of a housewife. She had loved Allen once. In the beginning. He had supported her and her dreams, and she had loved him in return. She had loved his humour, and his chivalry. His treatment of others. This was but a ruse, of course.

A year after their courting had transformed into a union, Allen Bennett had changed. Florence had finally met the man behind the mask of charisma and kindness. She had gotten too close, and now she is stuck, like a bird with a shattered wing, unable to escape.

“Thank you for a lovely time, Mother, as always,” says Allen, placing twin kisses on her heavily rouged cheeks. “Come now, Florence, we must return home immediately.”

“Thank you Ms. Bennett, for your advice and hospitality. We must do this again sometime.”

“Lovely idea, dearie. Hopefully, the next time I will be able to finish my story without you nodding off!” Ms. Bennett drawls, smirk hanging off her lips like the fancy cigarettes she so often smokes.

Formalities over and done with, the couple step out into the fresh afternoon air and into the waiting carriage that had brought them. Once inside, Mr. Bennett shoots out a strong hand, clutching his wife’s arm in a bruising grip. She lets out a surprised gasp, caught off guard by the sudden pain dealt to her by the man.

“Florence, Florence, Florence… What on God’s green earth will we do with you?” says the man, squeezing harder with each repetition of his wife’s name. “You are incapable of paying attention. You can only dream of meeting my mother’s expectations, the way you have acted today.”

“Allen, I am tryingー”

“You are not trying hard enough! You never have! Why I married a whore like you, I have no idea.”

The vice grip on Florence’s arm grows ever stronger, and she feels wretched anger in her heart, climbing up her throat. With a gaze of fire, she retaliates. “Allen, let go of me! I have done nothing wrong, and as a reward I receive your anger and a bruise to boot!”

Gazing into Allen’s eyes, Florence is confused, frightened even, at the horrible amusement dancing in them. Quick as lighting, before she could even register the action, the woman feels a sharp pain grace her cheek, and, with growing horror, she witnesses Allen’s raised hand begin to lower.

“My dear, you must know your place in this house,” whispers Allen in a venomous tone, bringing his wife ever-closer to him. “You will stay quiet and obedient. There is no other option for you, I’m afraid. Alright?”

“Y-yes.”

“Lovely. Tonight, we must attend a play at the theatre you love so much. This is an important appearance, very good for business. Please do try not to ruin it.”

Florence nods minutely, pressing her palm to her burning cheek. A crimson streak spoils the otherwise pristine white of her glove. She had forgotten that Allen wore rings.

“You will not speak to anyone. You will appear happy and in love, the image of a perfect wife. You will dress in your best garments,” Allen rattles off, smugness dripping from his features. He’s proud of this; proud of the power he holds over her. The power he holds over everyone. “That is all I ask of you. A list of tasks that someone as useless as you could complete with ease. Is that clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

-------------------

“Flo—”

“John, I—”

“My Goodness, your cheek! What happened?” The dulcet voice of one John Paul Jones rang through the quiet of the hall. Florence, caught in her attempt to make it to her room unnoticed, deflates and faces her friend.

“John… I’m sorry, but I do not have time to talk right now,” Florence rushes out, face pinched as she checks the time on the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the foyer. Must have costed a million, though it meant nothing to Allen, of course. “I am attending a performance at the theatre with Mr. Bennett, and time is… of the essence, I’m afraid.”

“I understand, I truly do, but Florence… was this Mr. Bennett’s doing? You must tell me what happened.” John gestures to the woman’s cheek, which is tinted red from the force used against her.

Sighing, Florence takes John’s hand and leads him into her room, once again the door is shut and promptly locked. She takes a seat on the immaculately-made bed and gestures for her longtime friend to follow suit. John sits, smoothing out his work-wrinkled shirt, and looks down at Florence expectantly.

Taking the man’s hand, she looks into his gemstone eyes, and recounts the story of what had transpired early that day.

“After all that had happened, I was, in my opinion, justifiably angry, so I took a page, pardon the pun, out of James’ book. It seems that my beloved was not a fan of this particular chapter, and he made that quite clear.”

“And the cut? The blood on your glove?”

“I had forgotten that Allen had the propensity to wear rings,” Florence whispers with an acerbic giggle, eyes pained and downcast now. “I doubt that I will be forgetting this anytime soon.”

John meets the woman’s gaze, and notices the beginning of tears brimming her eyes. He takes Florence’s hand in his, a silent offer of comfort that she would never refuse.

“John, as much as I adore your company,” says Florence with a peal of wet laughter. He knows Florence is avoiding the subject, but he lets her. She’ll talk to him, eventually. “I must get dressed for the performance. Hopefully, after we return, I could witness some of your incredible talent on the piano?”

“Of course, of course!” John exclaims, standing now, as, once again, he gently takes hold of Florence’s hands, now rid of the soiled glove. “But Florence, before I leave… Please be careful. James and I, we couldn’t bear to see further pain come to you. Please, for us, be cautious.”

“I will do my best, John. Thank you.”

John presses a quick kiss to Florence’s cheek in passing, and exits the room, and the woman is left alone again. Slipping on a lovely ensemble painted lilac and silver, the woman lets her thoughts wander.

She’s been alone quite often lately, after all. Her only friends in the house are John and James after all, the other servants too frightened by the man she married. Florence certainly does not blame them. She can’t say that she minds the solitude either, if it gets her away from Allen.

The intricately paneled door opens with a sharp click, and Allen waltzes in, leering at his wife, as if the thoughts drifting through her mind were audible to the man.

“Ah, Florence. I am glad that you've finally learned to dress yourself. Thank God himself for that.”

Florence, cheek still stinging from the blow dealt to it earlier, has only the mind to nod and smile as warmly as she can manage. This is taken as permission by Bennett, who caresses his wife’s uninjured cheek with the tips of his fingers, as if he thought her to be precious. Florence bristles at the touch, a string of rather unladylike words at the ready, but she holds her tongue, remembering her promise to John. She would be cautious, act like the perfect wife. She would be safe.

“Come now, my love,” whispers Allen, into his wife’s ear, beckoning her closer with a finger under her chin. “We have a show to attend.”

Palm outstretched towards his wife, Allen helps Florence into the waiting carriage, uncharacteristically gentle, as he always is in public. Public image means everything, and Allen Bennett is picture-perfect in that respect.

“My love, I remember how you love the theatre. I do hope this play captures your attention.”

“As do I, dear,” Florence says, voice wavering ever-so-slightly under the scrutiny of her husband. “Though I do not know if I have knowledge of this particular play.”

“I believe it’s called ‘The Voysey Inheritance’. It details the scandals of a family thought to be perfect, polite and proper. Interesting, is it not?” At that, Allen has pasted on a cheshire grin.

Sounds familiar, Florence thinks, silently cursing her husband and his monstrous greed. If only she had known, walking into this. Known about the sides, dangerous, that he hadn’t shown until it was too late. Until she was trapped.

Finding their seats, the couple take in the gorgeous marble pillars and the ruby, velvetine seats. The shining wood of the stage is visible from the upper flights, where elite folk like Sir Bennett make themselves at home. The massive carmine curtains remain closed, shielding the growing audience from the scenes that are set to come to life. Florence has always loved the beauty of this theatre, and, though it has been years since she has last stepped foot inside of it, she is charmed anew.

The lights of the theatre dim, signalling the start of the show. Florence grins into the still darkness, excitement for the performance growing. Casting her eyes to the stage below, she puts aside her worries. She completely forgets about the vile man sitting next to her, mind filling with the orchestral opening music of the play. She is home.

The curtains open slowly, and Florence loses her breath. There, on stage, is the most beautiful man Florence has ever laid eyes on. She cannot focus on the words flowing from his thin lips, for she is distracted by the halo of golden curls surrounding the man. His romanesque nose is prominent and his eyes, stormy skies in an ocean of blue, are captivating. His curls, spun silk, bounce across his broad shoulders, as he commands the stage. The actor’s luxurious suit glints navy in the blinding lights on him, accentuating his muscled body. He is not phased in the slightest by the attention firmly placed on him. Completely in his element.

He enchants her, as though he was a wizard, and she, the poor soul under his spell. A snake charmer that she’s read about in books found in the gigantesque manor library, and her, the sin-riddled reptile under his control. He is forbidden fruit, and she wants a taste.

The performer is ethereal, and Florence cannot take her eyes off of him. She must find out who he is, somehow.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages @kyunisixx (let me know if you want to be added!)

#heart of gold #robert plant #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #robert plant fanfic #robert plant x oc #classic rock fanfic

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mandos-lightningbeforethunder · 3 years

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Start Again - Chapter Six (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: Arriving on Orus, Din learns more about the girl and forces himself to make a choice when the planet isn’t so welcoming after all.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: discussion of sexism/gender roles, canon-typical violence, non-consensual touching, mention of blood, and panic attacks/anxiety attacks.

Author’s Note: This chapter sits at 3k words! It’s the longest chapter yet and a lot happens! I would also like to give credit to @kyberpistol for starting the headcanon of haunted!Din. I love the concept and I felt like I could use it in my story. Please heed the warnings. Feel free to like and reblog!

CHAPTER SIX - THE FIGHT

Landing on Orus is difficult, the terrain is not suitable for ships of Idrionna’s size. Din should’ve known that the moment Cara suggested the planet to him, but it was the first suitable planet on the list. It was also the closest, so fuel was not a concern.

When they arrived, the suns had already set over Orus, making the trek to the city of Opseg dangerous. A drop in the canyon could be hidden in the darkness, leaving them with no choice but to set up a camp for the night. Din knew that the girl would rather not sleep in the cot on Idrionna, at least for one night. Not that the sand was any more comfortable, but for at least one night it could be.

“It’s a bit of a drop,” The girl says, peering down the canyon below their feet. Even in the darkness, Din could see the dip in the edge of the canyon. Her voice echoes off the walls, giving Din an idea of just how far the drop was. Couldn’t have been more than a couple hundred feet, he thinks.

“It is,” Din says, looking across from where they’re standing. He could see the bustling city of Opseg just on the horizon. It had a medcenter, big enough to take in the girl for a physical examination without a long waiting time.

Cara had mentioned that Orus had been overlooked by the Empire. An old mining planet, when the Empire had arrived to steal the planet’s profit, they found that the mines had been wiped clean by a flood. Locals had called it a “hundred-year storm”, which had wiped out half the population as well as all the loot. With no profit to be made, the Empire sought other planets. Since then, Orus had been running an underground mining operation, making millions of credits in a single day alone. Once a ghost town, Opseg was on the up and coming. The city was expanding by the day, housing a growing population enriched by the planet’s rare ores.

“It’s beautiful,” The girl murmurs. Din turns, his eyes catching the lights of the city. It glows in the darkness of the surrounding landscape, making it all the more beautiful. He glances back up at the girl, catching the light just glimpsing off her face.

Despite her suffering, she was still full of life. The way her face contorted in excitement as she merely stared at the city ahead of her. Her entire life was stolen from her, yet she still saw the universe in the same innocence a child would. Shaking himself out of his daze, Din takes one more look at the city, before turning to start the fire.

“You didn’t get off Puvo much?” He asks, collecting enough firewood to keep them warm for the night. It was their luck that the wind hadn’t been terrible, a light breeze to keep the embers of the flame away from their faces, but not enough to put the fire out. Surprising luck for a mountainous planet.

“I wasn’t allowed to,” she replies, her voice distant. He turns to see her still staring at the city ahead of her. “Tatooine was my first. I had to convince Valara to let me go off-world. When I first started venturing out on my own on Puvo, I was told going off Puvo wasn’t an option. They were worried that if the Empire found out I was still alive, they’d come and finish the job.”

“They were probably right,” he says, igniting his flamethrower to start the fire. Although meant for combat, it usually came in handy when fires needed to be started quickly. Din watches as the flames jump, licking up the wood.

“They were,” she sighs, “But eventually I needed answers. So, I employed that pilot and then I found you. You’re the only one who’s willing to help me.”

Din pauses, looking back over her. Her focus remains on the city, but this time her face was troubled. Conflicted, perhaps, over the thought of leaving the only home she had ever known. She had left the one safety net protecting her from the Empire all in the name of seeking out answers that may not even exist.

“Besides, washing plant leaves on Puvo wasn’t what I wanted.” She chuckles, shaking her head, “I knew the work that was expected of me, but I wanted something more. Everyone thought I was too fragile.” She mumbles, shaking her head.

“Too fragile for what?” Din finds himself asking. He watches as she joins him by the fire, leaning against her pack.

“I don’t know…work that wasn’t just washing leaves and preparing them for transport.” She laments, looking up at the constellations above. “I stole a communicator off a pilot back on Puvo. It was so easy. The pilots that fly in, they’re so full of themselves. I let him talk about himself and he didn’t even notice it was missing.”

“You stole a communicator?” He asks. It’s not a surprise that she was able to steal one so easily. Most of the pilots he had come across in the New Republic Era were cocky, thinking themselves as the best of the best. In reality, had they been flying when the Empire was still in power, they probably would’ve never left the ground on any planet.

“I did,” she chuckles, “Valara couldn’t believe it, but I think she knew deep down I was capable of more. Over time she knew I was growing bored of the same chores we did every day.”

“What did you want?” Din finds himself asking, looking at her as she sits up. Her eyes look to the fire and Din admires the way the light of the flames flicker off her skin.

“The war was over and Puvo had been at peace for a while. Didn’t mean that they weren’t prepared for something. I saw the training that the soldiers went through. If the boys wanted to, they could go off to receive training. Puvo is a traditional planet, the women stay home for the families and the men work. I wanted to train, Valara blamed it on the post-traumatic stress but at the time, it was all that I could think about. I was so angry at the Empire after I found out what they had done to me, I wanted revenge and I thought learning to fight might help.” The girl shrugs, tossing a couple of sticks she had gathered into the fire.

“What stopped you?” He asks. Twisting a vibroblade between his fingers, he carefully begins to carve at the end of the stick, sharpening the edge.

“On Puvo, if you’re a woman wanting to fight, a council has to rule in majority favor to let you train. Valara could count on one hand the number of times a woman had been allowed and she didn’t have much hope for me. I guess she was right, the council voted overwhelmingly against me. Something about how my head wasn’t in the right place and I wasn’t fit to serve.” The girl sighs, wringing her hands together as she looks toward the horizon again. “But the more time I spent with Valara’s grandmother, I realized that I was more hellbent on revenge than actually healing. If they had let me train and fight, I probably would’ve been killed.”

“Do you still want to? Learn to fight, I mean,” Din asks, watching as her head turns to face him again. After a beat of silence, she nods.

“I’m better than I was before,” she murmurs, “I know my head still isn’t in the right place but I don’t care about revenge anymore. I just want Castin back.”

A wave of emotions hit him. Emotions he hadn’t felt since that day he watched Grogu go off with the Jedi. It had been the same words Din had said to Gideon, he didn’t care about power or money, he just wanted Grogu back safely. Nothing mattered more to him at that moment, just that Grogu was in his arms and away from the fist of the Empire.

“You going to teach me, Mando?” She teases, obvious in her tone that she’s not serious.

“I could,” Din breathes, watching as her eyes widen. She may have not been serious about the offer, but if they were going to be searching for her son, she was better off knowing a few things to protect herself.

“You’d do that?” She clarifies, still unsure if his offer is real.

“It’s safer for you to know how to protect yourself. I could teach you a few things in self-defense. I’m surprised they didn’t teach you anything on Puvo.” Din says, looking up as she bites her lip.

“Puvo is about tradition. Men fight so the women don’t have to.” She reminds him and he hums at her statement. “Not to mention they never expected me to leave. Here I am, systems away,” she laughs, and Din chuckles too.

“I’ll take the first shift,” Din tells her. She nods, pulling the poncho over her shoulders as she lays her head against her pack. He watches as she turns over, facing the illuminated city.

“Mando?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Din hums, smiling underneath the helmet as he fiddles with the vibroblade, continuing to sharpen the stick in his hand. He would need to make two so that he’d be ready to teach her first round of self-defense by morning. He tries brushing off the feeling that manifests from her words.

“Get up.”

Din wakes up to a voice that does not belong to the girl. When his eyes open behind the helmet, the barrel of a weapon stares right back at him. Not moving, he eyes the camp and sees that the girl sits defeated, hands cuffed in front of her.

“I said get up Mandalorian! What are you, deaf?” The voice demands again. Looking past the barrel, he stares at a Devaronian. His face contorted in clear anger, a snarl on his lips just barely hiding the sharpened teeth.

Slowly, Din sits up from his position and with the shove of the barrel, he stands. Raising his hands, he watches as the Devaronian’s partner, another Devaronian, lifts the girl up by her cuffs, growling at her to stand. Din can see the swelling just below her eye, hinting that there had been a scuffle before he had been woken up.

He chastises himself, knowing he should’ve taken the last shift instead of the first. Or maybe he should’ve taken both, in order to protect the girl better. And how could he have slept while she struggled? Din curses himself as his hands are placed in front of him and cuffed.

“Quite the loot, ain’t it, Zek?” The Devaronian behind him says, chuckling to himself.

“Ah well, we still have to decide what to do with them, Vroth.” Zek huffs, rolling his eyes. His yellow eyes turn gleeful as the girl continues to struggle in his grip and Din sneers as Zek sniffs at her hair.

“Keep your hands off her.” Din demands, stepping forward. He’s stopped by Vroth, his blaster jamming into his lower back just underneath his armor.

“Ah, ah, I make the demands here, Mandalorian. You’re the one in cuffs.” Vroth smirks, “You’re the only one of value here, beskar is still of some worth on the market. The girl is just an added bonus.”

“We’re not here to cause trouble—” The girl says, interrupted by a blaster butting against her face. The thump of her hitting the ground angers Din, but he knows that he has no control here. Not at the moment at least.

“Don’t make me hurt your pretty face again,” Zek snaps, pulling the girl up again. The daze in her eyes is clear as she leans against the Devaronian for balance. Zek seems to appreciate it as he holds her, taking another sniff of her hair. “She smells so good, Vroth. I should keep her to myself.” He licks his lips, smirking when Din tenses.

“Just a moment,” Vroth spits out, focusing his attention on Din. They care more about his armor and the credits it will bring them.

“You won’t find anyone willing to buy my armor.” Din says, “Orus has their own resources, they’ll overlook your highly-priced beskar and look the other way.”

Both Zek and Vroth seem to pause as the statement, looking to each other for their next move. Din takes the time to study the girl again, watching her as she sways. She’s too out of it to contribute to the fight, but now, more than ever she needs to see a doctor. He’ll have to take the Devaronians on alone.

Their strength is the one thing they have against him, as well as the cuffs around his wrists. Looking around the camp, they haven’t ransacked his weapons yet or found the girl's credits. Good, he thinks, they’re too tied up in the armor to survey who they’re actually going against. They knew he was a Mandalorian, but Din’s more than aware now that not all those who wear the armor are actual Mandalorians.

“I’ll take the girl!” The arguing takes Din out of his thoughts and he watches as the two snap at each other, Zek pulling the girl close to him once again. Vroth marches over, removing his blaster from underneath Din’s armor, presumably to argue with his partner over who will take the girl. Din has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Catching a glimpse of her behind the mass of Zek, Din notices the blood crusted on her forehead, just within her hairline from where the blaster broke the skin. He seethes with anger at the thought of them hurting her. The dazed look in her eyes only tells him that he needs to act now.

The cuffs hang loose around his wrists, clearly meant for a creature of a bigger size. With the two Devaronians distracted by the girl, he slips his wrists out of them. The blaster at his hip is gone, probably confiscated while he was still asleep. The beskar spear had been left on the ship, leaving Din with the one weapon he refused to use. The dark saber.

Wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the weapon, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Treat it like any other sword, he reminds himself. Save her and deal with the two mercenaries.

The ignition of the saber startles both Devaronians and the girl. Zek and Vroth’s faces turn into snarls, lips turning up as they bare their teeth at the threat. Din breathes out and moves first, swinging the saber up as Zek fires his blaster. The shot ricochets off the humming blade, burning a hole in Zek’s forehead, right between his horns. The thud of Zek hitting the ground fills Din with a certain satisfaction from a deep part inside himself. He suppresses the feeling and breathes out again, ready for the next move.

“Stop! Or I’ll shoot her!” Vroth demands. His hand quivers, the blaster wavering against the girl’s temple. Din stares at the girl as she looks up at him.

“I just killed your friend with his own blaster fire. Do you really want to try it out yourself?” Din asks, almost breathless with the adrenaline running through him. The saber hums at his side, awaiting the next move. Din still waits for a response from the Devaronian, the realization hitting Vroth that there’s no way out from this situation.

Din could choose to let him live, but that could lead to word getting out that he wielded the dark saber. It would send Bo-Katan into a frenzy trying to find him, believing him ready to fight for the saber simply because he used it.

“You bitch!” Vroth snarls and Din watches as the girl falls out of the way of the angry Devaronian, giving Din the opportunity. Vroth brings the blaster up, finger hovering over the trigger just as the blade slashes through the barrel.

In shock, Vroth stumbles back, tossing away the smoking blaster and reaching around for another. His scream pierces the air as he falls back into the canyon, a resounding thud echoing off the walls.

For a moment, Din stares in stunned silence. The saber recedes back into the hilt and Din clips it back to his belt, focusing his attention now on the girl.

She’s sitting up in the sand, trying to remove the cuffs herself. Her breathing is shallow and the glaze over her eyes tells him that she’s panicking, in overdrive to get herself out of harm’s way.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tells her, gently reaching out with his hand to ground her. “Let me take those off, okay?” He says. She offers her wrists to him and he carefully slides the cuffs off, tossing them aside.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “If I had just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. We handled it. It’s over. Just breathe. Can I take a look at your head? He hit you pretty hard,” He asks, watching as she winces and then nods. Her shock and adrenaline are wearing off, leaving her to feel the effects of her wounds.

Taking a gloved hand, Din cups her face, turning her face so that he can get a better look at the cut. It’s not deep, a simple bacta patch will repair the skin. The bruise under her eyes is another problem, it’s already swelling and he doesn’t have much to work with to stem the swelling.

Her hand swipes at her mouth, leaving a streak of blood behind on both her hand and the corner of her lips. It’s not her own.

“You bit him?” He asks, not sure if he should laugh.

“I did,” she murmurs, the usual glint in her eyes returning as she looks at him. “Didn’t taste very good.”

Din chuckles and sits back, reaching into his pack and pulling out a canteen of water for her to rinse her mouth and to wash away the crusted blood on her forehead. With the edge of his cape, he wipes the blood off as she spits the water out next to her.

“Should start that training soon,” Din mumbles, placing the bacta patch against her skin.

“You think?” she smirks and although she can’t see it, Din smiles underneath the helmet.

Read Chapter Seven - The Diagnosis here!

#din djarin x you #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #start again #dins haunted

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earthlostgirl · 3 years

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here I am again, writing fics. Inspiration comes and goes as it pleases

Date

Faye wrapped herself in the blanket and settled into the sofa with the book in her hands, a steaming tea on the table and a packet of chocolate cookies. She smiled indulgently at the quiet afternoon ahead and focused on reading.

She didn't need lifting her head from the book to know that Spike had just entered the room, walked over to her and leaned against the back of the couch. He grinned from ear to ear and looked at her cheekily with those wonderful dark eyes, and she managed not to lose her composure.

Even if he'd just come from working out and his skin was covered in sweat and all she felt like doing was licking him up and down. Spike raised his eyebrows smiling even wider, as if he had read her mind and she felt her cheeks catch fire.

“Today you and I are going out,” he said with all the confidence he has, picking up the cup and taking a sip of her tea.

“I beg your pardon?” Faye blinked in disbelief, watching as he reached out for a cookie.

“In an hour. Let's have some fun,” Spike set the cup down on the table and cracked his knuckles.

“What do you think, that I don't have plans?” She snapped, slapping Spike's hand as he lunged for another cookie.

“It's Saturday, and you're wrapped in a blanket with tea, no, you don't have plans,” he muttered, chewing exaggeratedly.

“And you think hanging out with you is more interesting than finding out what happens to Edmund Tully on his wedding day?” Faye asked pointing to the book.

“You know he never got around to publishing the last two?” Spike said smiling tapping the cover of the book with a finger. “One hour, Valentine, don't keep me waiting.”

And just as he had appeared he left, hands in his pockets and slightly arched over. Faye didn't plan to move from the spot. Spike was an arrogant and cheeky prick, if he thought that with his charming smile and a walk he was going to convince her he had lost his mind.

Faye went back to focus on her reading, trying to erase from her mind how good that guy always smelled.

After forty minutes she closed the book in outrage; there was enough death in her life already, to also have to suffer it in a novel. She hurled the book on the table and repressed a cry of frustration covering herself with the blanket.

...

An hour had already gone by, Spike was waiting in the hangar for Faye to show up, still not quite sure if she had forgiven him. But things between them had smoothed out and at least she was talking to him again. He was nervous and even though he'd used all the audacity he had to ask her out. Faye was capable of ignoring him completely, dropping him like a cigarette butt and deflating his ego without so much as batting an eyelash. Spike wasn't keeping track of the number of cigarettes he had smoked in the twenty minutes he had been waiting when heard heels approaching him, turned around trying to transform his stupid smile of happiness into a superb expression of triumph.

Faye zipped up a red leather jacket, which he had never seen before and looked at him with the hands on her hips. She was wearing black boots with a ridiculously high heel that made her endless legs look even longer.

“I'm merely doing this because the book is in a critical situation and I need to forget it,” Faye muttered looking at a remote point behind him.

“Whatever you tell Valentine,” Spike smiled, and she walked in front of him without answering.

Faye was wearing jeans so tight he was convinced that in some cultures were considered illegal. Spike had to restrain himself from pinning her against the wall of the Bebop and undressing her right there.

Spike had been asking favors and collecting debts to find the perfect place. In the end he'd gotten tickets to a place called Baghdad, which from what he had been told was the best place on Venus. It was virtually impossible to go there without a connection or waiting 6 months on a list.

They sat down in a booth, and Faye took off her jacket, revealing a black chiffon shirt so sheer he could guess even the most delicate lace line of her bra. He was incapable to hide a smirk at the thought that she had made herself so beautiful for him. Faye rolled her eyes, resting her cheek on the hand as she realized how he was looking at her.

“What would you like drinking?”

"Rum.”

They started an irrelevant chat about how hard it was to find good bounties since they cancelled the Big Shot. But the only thing he was able to concentrate on was the red of her lips, which was the same shade as her jacket and how the lights of the club reflected in her eyes as she looked at him.

So he kept talking not quite knowing what to say but delighted because she was watching him attentively with a smile on her lips.

Suddenly Faye cut her attention away from him, focusing on what was going on behind him. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she blinked in disbelief. Faye set her hands to her mouth to cover a smile that her eyes couldn't hide. He had lost her attention completely and turned around to picture what she was seeing.

On a small stage a naked couple was having sex in front of everyone. He was a huge guy, full of muscles, and she was an oxygenated blonde with fake breasts who moaned and screamed at every thrust.

Spike couldn't believe it, where the hell had he brought her? He looked around, half-naked dancers were scattered all over the room. Perfect, now Faye would think he was a pervert. That he had brought her there with some hidden agenda. All he wanted to do was take her dancing or have some fun.

“Where did you bring me Spiegel?” she asked with a laugh.

Spike didn't dare look her in the face. He was going to kill Stuart, was going to strangle him with his own guts and forsake him hanging in one of the gardens of Venus. In whose head could that place be perfect to surprise a girl?

Faye kept an eye on the couple as a third participant with more muscle than the first one joined them.

“That position must be tremendously uncomfortable for the poor girl,” she commented distractedly and placed her eyes on him, demanding an explanation.

What the hell was he going to say? That his friend told him that this was the most famous place on Venus? That everyone wanted to be here? That he hadn't asked anything else because he was an idiot? He move his hands to his forehead sniffling and leaned his elbows on the table trying to relax, his head was aching. Faye was going to tell him to fuck off. He didn't even want to look at her.

“We're leaving, aren't we?” she asked, and he couldn't tell if she was annoyed or if she was laughing at him.

Suddenly he felt stupid and furious. He got up from his chair without saying a word, gulped down what was left in his glass, grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit without waiting for her. Spike opened the door and heard the doorman say goodbye to Faye without missing the opportunity to flirt with her, and that made him even angrier.

...

They left that club, initially Faye wanted to make him believe she was angry, that it had bothered her that he had taken her to that place of vice and depravity. But just seeing how embarrassed he was, she was moved and decided not to joke with him. Spike was walking in front of her talking or rather yelling at someone on the phone.

Whitney had faked a fairy tale, introducing himself as the knight in shining armor who was there to save her. Big words, movie-worthy gestures and the whole love story. She had been so lost, so scared that she had believed him completely. She thought he was going to take care of her and love her, but he left her with a broken heart and an unpayable debt.

And now there she was, walking behind Spike Spiegel, who had few words and not many gestures.

Spike was a hopeless romantic. His whole history with Julia was proof of that, he wanted to leave everything for her. He risked his life for her, and without her, he found no sense in living. Julia had broken his heart, and yet he loved her to the point of no care to stay alive. Even if Spike denied it... if Julia were alive, he would have disappeared from her side without looking back. She was so sure of that it made her anxious, wanting to run away from him to avoid worse harm. Avoid thinking that Spike would rather be with Julia or that he thought of her when he closed his eyes and kissed her.

She was heartbroken, but Julia was dead, and she didn't want a ghost to take away the only good thing in her life. So she needed to believe that she was more than a replacement and that she meant something to him.

“Aren't you hungry?” Faye asked as he hung up his communicator and stopped in the middle of the street.

“No,” Spike replied grumpily, turning around to look at her. “But we can stop somewhere if you feel like it.”

She nodded not quite sure what to say, she didn't understand why Spike was so upset. Although she knew he was hurt in his pride, and she tried hard not laughing.

He walked beside her in silence, with his hands in his pockets and slowing his pace to match her pace.

“I know a place where serve wonderful pizza,” Spike finally said, stopping in front of her.

“Do they cook nakedly or dressed?” Faye asked laughing, trying to get him to smile again.

Spike winced in disgust and blushed up to his ears. She smiled, walked over and patted him on the back.

They enjoyed a leisurely dinner sitting at the pizzeria bar, not talking too much and watching video clips on an old TV screen.

“Shall we go home?” Spike asked, he was sulking, and it looked like his sole intention was to disappear and lock up somewhere to curse.

“No,”

Spike looked at her in surprise and remained silent crumpling the paper napkin in his hands.

“We'd better seek a quiet place to spend the night, do you want to?” Faye asked getting up and running a hand through his tangled hair.

Spike slipped an arm around her hip and pulled her to him, sighing he rested his head on her shoulder and mumbled something against her neck.

They arrived at a lovely hotel. The receptionist handed them the key, and they quietly made their way up to the third floor. The heater was on, and it was pleasantly warm inside the room.

She sat on the bed, so she could take off the heels that were killing her and Spike leaned against the small table in front of her, took off his jacket, placed it on the chair carefully and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Looking sad and disappointed, he rested his hands on the table and looked at her as she massaged her aching feet. She got up from the bed and stood in front of him caressing his face carefully.

“You're in a bad mood, huh?” she asked in a whisper with her fingers in his hair.

“No,” Spike replied sharply.

He was incapable of allowing things go. When something didn't go his way, it affected his mood and the way he treated others. She caressed his cheek and gave him a small kiss. She ran her hands down his neck and gently began to unbutton his shirt.

Faye sighed as she saw the scar across his chest and carefully ran her hand over it. Spike crossed his arms behind her back pulling her close to him.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered.

“No,”

Faye could feel Spike's eyes on her, but she still didn't look up from his chest.

“I wasn't able to stitch you up,” Faye slid her hands down his back and wrapped her arms around him. “My hands were shaking so badly that Jet pushed me away, and he did.”

She heard him sigh deeply and felt how he closed his arms around her and kissed her hair. He whispered her name and cooed her in his arms tenderly.

“Will you tell me someday what happened with the syndicate?” she asked very softly, wondering if he could have heard her.

“No,” he replied using that sharp tone of voice that bothered her so much, she broke away from him and he sighed again. “You wouldn't like to know the kind of man I am.”

“I know the kind of man you are Spike,” she replied clutching his face with both hands and kissing his forehead. "The kind of guy who takes you to a club with live porn on the first date.”

He frowned and grumbled closing his legs to trap her between them, pulling her close to him again. He grabbed her firmly by the waist and looked at her with a serious gesture.

“It wasn't our first date anyway,” he whispered unbuttoning the button of her jeans and pulling down the zipper.

“Ah, wasn't it?” Faye asked curiously.

“We went out for dinner and drinks the night before we confronted Decker. The one who stole the trucks,” Spike slid the pants down her hips and she let them fall to the floor.

“We were working, we need dinner Spiegel, that wasn't a date,” she replied crossing her arms as he tangled with her hair.

“We ended up in bed,” he lowered the pitch of his voice a couple of octaves and a shiver ran down her back just from the way he was looking at her.

“It was never my intention. We were too drunk,” she stammered nervously, feeling small electric shocks where he placed his hands.

“It was mine. I used all my seduction tricks,” Spike gave her one of his charming smiles while he grabbed her arms and slid his hands up and down them.

“You're lucky I don't recall anything,” she caressed Spike's palms, trying to hold back the urge to jump on him and devour every inch of his skin.

“In fact it was my intention since I saw you behind that table in the casino, with your thin pink jacket,” he said, touching the buttons of her shirt one by one.

“Yes, huh?” Faye whispered in his ear while she caressed the back of his neck and felt his skin crawl. “What did you want to do to me?”

Spike chuckled, grabbed her ass with both hands and pressed her body against him, caressing her back gently.

“I wanted to bite you, lick you, touch you,” Spike grabbed her hair and looked down at her biting his lips. "I wanted to hear you scream my name.”

She took a breath and shivered as she felt Spike's fingers drawing small circles where her shirt ended.

“So what are you waiting for?” she whispered, almost brushing his lips, feeling the tightness of Spike's grip around her waist.

He gazed down at her with a smile laden with desire and without a second's thought, kissed her until they were breathless. Spike pulled away from her to catch his breath holding her face, still looking into her eyes, challenging her, asking for more, demanding more. Faye kissed him again as she finished removing his shirt and pinning him against the table. But Spike was stronger so without any effort on his part lifted her by the waist with one arm and carried her to the bed.

#cowboy bebop #spaye #spike x faye #spike spiegel #faye valentine #fanfiction

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dtowngurl4488 · 3 years

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SUPERGIRL 6x02 - WHAT THE ACTUAL F$@K?!

I am a Supergirl & Dansen fan and I am beyond PISSED off. So I'm going to rant and vent and whoever has an issue can suck it.

Season after season has gotten progressively worse and worse in the writing department on the show. When I say I absolutely love and adore Supergirl, I mean it and my unwaveringly favorite thing about it are Alex and Kara Danvers and the beautiful bond they have as sisters which for the longest time was the cornerstone and heart of the show. But for several seasons now that's hasn't been to the case at all.

I like many others became instantly enamored with Lena Luthor the moment she appeared on the screen so believe me I get it. What I realized in season 5 which was highlighted in tonight's episode, I have no more capacity for Luthor family problems. Their family drama sucks up so much space that it's overwhelming and drives me crazy. Lex has long since worn out his welcome no matter how well Jon Cryer plays him, Lillian though she serves pretty good one liners typically doesn't offer must to move the story along, and as beautiful and brilliant as Lena may be she's not the hero of the show nor the only smart person and it gets quite tiresome the way she's used as the ultimate problem solver. Ultimately, I just want Kara to be the focal point of her own show again, she's been feeling like a side character for a while now. But that's a rant for another day. Can we just be done with Lex already?!?

Tonight's episode had such great potential to allow the actors to really show off what they could do with angsty emotional content. We all know that Katie, Chyler, David and Azie are more than capable of delivering great performances. And the fact that Alex has seemingly told Kelly about Kara being Supergirl off-screen is beyond disappointing when so much of their relationship has already happened off screen. At this point it's more than clear to me that their relationship is simply for sure and serves no deeper purpose then to check off an item from the representation checklist. I shouldn't have been surprised but I was and it was like a slap in the face. I don't even believe it'll end up in the deleted scenes of the DVD, I genuinely feel like it just wasn't written and was never intended to be anything other than an idea. But only time will tell whether I'm wrong or not.

I definitely could have lived without the random William product placements. I don't even have an actual problem with the character in general, I'm pretty indifferent to him but there was absolutely no reason for him in this episode. I'll admit I do love Andrea and generally enjoy her anytime she's on the screen but once again in this episode there was really not much reason for any of the Catco scenes.

And I'm sure I may be one of a very few people who would even think of this but I can only imagine how long it's gonna take before there's a scene where someone preferably Alex realizes that Eliza needs to know that her child has been trapped in the phantom zone...again. And did anybody catch that they basically confirmed that Argo is still an existence?

I'm rambling and probably not making sense. I'm just angry...and tired. It's just so disappointing to be so attached to a show and it's characters that you watch it religiously all the while knowing that the writing is going to piss you off without fail on a weekly basis. But you watch it anyway because you love it and you want to support some of your favorite actors while they're still a small part of you that hope that somehow the writing will get better and things won't go even further off the rails.

#supergirl #alex danvers #kelly olsen #azie tesfai #chyler leigh #danvers sisters #kara danvers #melissa benoist #lena luthor #lex luthor #dansen

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kannra21 · 4 years

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Daisuzu one shot 💴💗

Suzue is angry for the first time and Daisuke needs to keep up with her bad mood the entire morning. How is he handling it?

~o0o~

This was supposed to be a positive morning for Suzue because Daisuke told her yesterday that he's going to take a day off just to catch up on his time with her and she was so enthusiastic about it that one simple thing as perid cramps decided on ruining her instantly. It was early in the day, 7:15h so to speak, and she was already in shock and fed up with the entire situation. And as if this wasn't troublesome enough; she wasn't able to find any medications in her drawer. She checked in the nightstand, closet, shelves, counter. Nothing, she couldn't find anything and the pain in her stomach was becoming more and more unbearable.

She couldn't leave the palace this instant because she needed to take care of Daisuke first. She entered his room writhing a little because of how much it hurted her. She already hated everything about this day and everything around her, she became more stressed and more emotional. She tried to wake him up gently at first but when he didn't react on her attempts right away, she took the glass from his nightstand and showed it back somewhat forcefully, making a loud thud. Daisuke jumped a little from how startled it made him and Suzue greeted him with annoyed look on her face.

"Butler already informed me about the breakfast. You're free to come down and join." She handed him certain clothes without asking for approval "You can also put these on. I'll be waiting for you once you're ready."

Suzue turned around and left without putting much of a conversation between them. Daisuke noticed how stiff she looked but concluded that she probably "woke up on the wrong side of the bed" and therefore didn't want to ask further about it. Still, it wasn't like Suzue to be this irritated in the morning since he always got used to her friendly greetings and a big smile on her face. He got himself dressed and went downstairs where an elegant spacious dining room was located.

A classic British breakfast was served, 7:30h, the pair was sitting at the dark wooden table with magnificent displays of gold plate from George IV's enormous collection and enjoyed their meal. If you were just a mere visitor to their household you probably wouldn't notice such things, but Daisuke was perfectly aware of Suzue's unnerved behavior. She cut her meal quite frustrated and she even criticized the lack of flavor in it. And although she wasn't showing it as much, her dissatisfaction was present and she became angry, much to Daisuke's surprise. Daisuke grew worried because, for him, the meal tasted just fine and as much as he wanted to hold himself back from further antagonizing her when she already felt bad enough, he couldn't ignore it and he needed to interfere. He didn't have the heart to ignore her like this.

"Suzue. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Of course I did. What kind of question is that supposed to be?"

Ouch that hurt. Daisuke would usually feel offended by such an act but this was Suzue he was talking to so he decided to be stubborn.

"I don't know. If someone upset you in any way you're free to tell me and I'll take care of them personally."

"Daisuke-sama, with all due respect I'm not feeling especially obligated as of today's date to worry much about when I'm supposed to be free to do something or not. I am a person, I have feelings, and I'll decide on doing things when I'm feeling like doing them. I'm not asking for anyone's permission to express my free will."

Suzue took her plate, handed it to butler and left the room.

For the first time in a long time Daisuke felt broken. It's funny because he usually never paid attention to other people or their unnecessary outbursts of emotions which he always found uncomfortable and incredibly impractical, but then again, this was Suzue he was talking to and he became seriously worried about her.

Whenever he wanted to check on her she made an annoyed expression and whenever he tried to start a conversation with her she ended it quickly.

"That video you wanted to show me the other day-"

"I changed my mind. It wouldn't be as entertaining for you because you never find anything funny anyways. I wonder what satisfies you anymore."

Another low blow and Daisuke felt like crumbling. Although he decided that he'll wait for her until she calms down. Or not? He wasn't used to her lack of attention and he enjoyed it so much while it lasted. Suzue was usually the clingy one in their relationship but today the roles were switched and he wanted to bring the old smiling Suzue back.

"What do you say about watching your favorite series together?"

"I watched it yesterday, today is the rerun."

"I brought you some fashion magazines I thought you might like."

"Thank you, I'll check them later."

"Would you like to check these new gadget parts I found with HEUSC? He couldn't estimate the quality of the product so I'm asking for your opinion."

"I'm not interested as of now, I'll search them when I have the time."

"Would you like some tea in your favorite kitty cup?"

Suzue put down whatever she was reading at the moment and looked at him with serious expression on her face.

"I'm perfectly capable of making tea for myself. I'm sorry Daisuke-sama, but why are you being like that?"

"Like what?"

"The way you're being, you're unusually clingy today and I didn't even ask for any of it. Why are you giving me such a hard time? I need a break."

Suzue was about to climb the stairs which led to her bedroom.

"I'm sorry." Daisuke said quietly and Suzue instantly stopped on her tracks. She never heard him talk like this before and it broke her heart. She could feel his hurt and regret and she wondered how it came to all of this.

Daisuke continued "I took a day off with the intent of spending more time with you and although I'm really bad at showing what I feel when expressing myself most of the time, the idea of being with you after so long made me feel genuinely happy. I'm sorry if it sounds self-centered or selfish, I'm always talking about me and my feelings when I never considered asking other people about their own. I always pre-determined what others should be doing without giving it that much thought about their opinions before coming up with my own decisions. And no matter how much I try I'm always screwing it up, I'm a terrible person."

When he looked up at Suzue he wasn't expecting her to cry and he became alarmed.

"Y-you're not a terrible person. Please never say that again. It's me, I'm the one who screwed everything. M-my stomachache won't subdue and I didn't take my painkillers."

...

"Oh."

Daisuke came up to her on the stairs and picked her up bridal style. Suzue squeaked a little.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to my room because I know where the stuff I'm looking for is placed. But I can always take you to yours if you tell me where you're keeping things."

"I-I don't mind your room.."

Daisuke smirked at her.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT FACE MR.!!"

"Okay okay, jesus." he kissed her forehead and pushed the door with his leg.

Once he placed her on the bed, he tucked her in a bunch of pillows and blankets and gave her the phone.

"I'm sorry to say this but please wait for me 20min or so, I'll try to come back as soon as possible."

With this said, Daisuke disappeared into the hallways and left Suzue alone with her thoughts. She knew that Daisuke gave her the phone to entertain herself but right now she couldn't think of anything else but the thing that just happened between them and the way she mistreated him this entire time. The guilt squeezed her heart and worsened her stomach pain.

Daisuke, on the other hand, mentally panicked because he didn't know what to do right now. He never had a sister and his mother died and he absolutely didn't have the slightest idea on what to do. He did his research with HEUSC, he talked to butlers and once he grasped the concept of it, he drew his Bentley Continental GT *maniac style like he always did* to the nearest store and bought

✨💴 EVERYTHING 💴✨ *fu-gou ke-i-ji song playing in the background*. Even the cashier lady couldn't believe that a man could look this badass while buying half of the aisle lmao.

Daisuke returned on time with butlers helping him carry everything and Suzue looked surprised upon seeing so many bags being brought into her room.

Daisuke approached her with a bag of his own and squatted next to her.

"Here we have pain killers, snacks, napkins, hygiene products, essential oils, I even bought heating pads and massage pillows. I didn't know whether you'd prefer Twinings or Yorkshire so I bought them both-"

"You bought the companies?!"

"I bought the tea."

Suzue sighed in relief.

"And I bought cocoa, chocolate and double-layered socks to keep you warm."

"What's the package at the bottom of the bag?"

"Oh.. it's nothing."

"Daisuke-sama you're terrible at lying."

"Alright. It's something that I bought just in case."

He took the package out and Suzue blushed.

...

"I'm.. not implying anything it's just to make you feel better. If you want you can use me as well.."

".. Thank you."

The blush couldn't leave both of their faces so Daisuke put everything aside and headed towards the doors.

"I'm going to make Earl grey because it goes well with chocolate. I'll be right back."

With this said, he left the room and Suzue squeaked in her hands.

Did he.. seriously just thought about the things she assumed he did? He really considered it for her own sake..

When he returned he placed the painkillers, cup of tea and chocolate box on the nightstand before joining her on the other side of the bed. He searched Claire Luvcat and they watched Cream Heroes together. Suzue smiled so much upon looking at the screen showing her beautiful kittens. Daisuke made her smile again and it made him proud.

"Which one is your favorite?"

"Oh" Suzue was taken by surprise "I like Lulu because he's funny and cute."

"Should I buy him?"

Suzue just laughed sweetly "No it's her cat, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't put her cat on sale for any money in this world. Besides, the cat would be really sad when separated from her owner. It's where he belongs, they're practically inseparable."

"Like you and me?"

Suzue squeaked again and Daisuke smiled.

"Mr. Coco reminds me of Furry Elise a lot. I like him, they'd have a nice litter."

"Thinking of becoming a breeder?" Suzue teased him.

"Not really, although it brings good money. Somewhere around ¥158.386,50 for a kitten."

"Seriously?!"

"Yes if the parents are two purebred cats. Coco is a British longhair and Furry Elise is Maine Coon. Besides, you'll get too attached and wouldn't allow me to separate them from you so it's a losing game."

Suzue laughed fondly "It's true, sometimes money can't buy everything."

Daisuke hugged her closer to himself and kissed her head.

"Daisuke-sama.."

"Hm?"

"I wanted to apologize for everything I told you early in the morning. I didn't mean it, the things I said were not true and it was reckless of me to even address you with such disrespect. You were trying to make me feel better this entire time and everything I did in return was rejecting your every attempt. I'm so sorry for offending you like this."

Daisuke turned her face gently towards his own and made her look him in the eyes.

"You'd never offend me, Suzue. There's no way in millions years that you'd be able to do things like this, because you're kindhearted and overall a beautiful person. Remember that."

Suzue looked at him with so much adoration in her eyes.

"Besides, you're right. I'm not the one to decide what people should do with themselves and by not doing anything for you when you needed me the most, I'd feel like I'm letting you down and you definitely didn't deserve that. In fact, you deserve so much better and I'd like to live up to your expectations, if you let me."

"I do. I just hope that I didn't ruin your plans for today."

"This is exactly how I wanted it to spend, together with you."

Maybe he didn't deserve her but Daisuke promised himself to make sure that Suzue feels appreciated every single day.

@daisuzuship @innovativestruggles @narcopharmacist @unholysoggytea @riaymei @ieatcrumbs @cow-goes-oof @matchabucks @bluegleeful @levi-is-heicho @kakooshi @kokorokai @darknessrxse @fluffyyagiza @geniusmeemee @sungmnnnn @koalarin @alstroemerie @petiamaximoff38 @hellohellokookie @marialenikiforov @milcyuw

Smtng short but sweet. Hope you like it! 💞

#fugou keiji balance: unlimited #fkbu #millionaire detective balance: unlimited #millionaire detective #daisuke kambe #suzue kambe #daisuzu #scenario #fanfic #one shot #idea #imagine #thought #daizue #daisuke x suzue

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blackholesandlions · 4 years

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SPOILER WARNING

So I was reading ToN and I got to the part about not being able to destroy the fasces, and my mind started racing with ideas so I got down my idea of how the book would end before reading the rest of it, just to see how wrong I was. Anyway I ended up liking it a lot so here’s my alternate ending to the Tower of Nero

Warning this makes no sense if you’ve read any point in the book past where I stopped, so keep that in mind.

Nero’s words still rang in my mind. “You haven’t destroyed it yet, because you can’t. Even if you could, you’d release so much power it would burn you to cinders.” After he said that we ran, fast. He didn’t even bother calling the guards on us. He knew Python would get us first.

I was at the back of the group, because I was carrying the fasces, and it weighed me down. This thing had Nero’s soul in it, it was the only way to kill him, but breaking it would destroy everything around it. And even then, there was still no way to defeat Python. I’m not strong enough to take him out. If only there was some way to… oh. It’s so obvious, why didn’t I think of it earlier? Well, I don’t even want to think about it now, but it’s my only option that gets everyone out safely.

I stopped walking, and the rest of them turned to face me. Rachel asked, “Apollo, what are you doing? We need to keep moving.” I steeled my nerves. “I have a plan to take out Nero and Python in one move.”

“Great, let’s hear it,” Lu said. “No. No time. I need all of you to run, run as far as you can. I’m going to take them out, but you need to be out of the blast zone. Don’t come back for me.” I half wished somebody would protest, say no Apollo, we can’t let you sacrifice yourself, but they nodded, and ran.

Except Meg. Meg was holding back tears.

“Let me help, Lester. You can’t do it on your own.”

“I know.”

“Then how-”

“Destroying the fasces will incinerate anything around it. I’m not strong enough to break it, but he is.”

Meg wasn’t even holding the tears back at this point. She was crying. Over me. “Lester, you can’t,” she sobbed. “You’ll die!”

I pull her into a hug. “Hey, that’s the price of being human.”

“Now go.” She nodded, and gave me a weak smile before turning to run.

I rummaged through my bag, looking for anything to secure the heavy fasces. After a bit of searching I find what I’m looking for. Oh, thank the gods for Duct Tape, truly one of mankind’s greatest inventions. I strap the fasces to my back and shuffle onward towards my doom.

When I finally got there, my old enemy Python has wrapped his way around the entire chamber. His eyes are closed, so he doesn’t see me approaching, and for a second I have to admit, I’m tempted to just flee. Give up this lapse in judgement and live the rest of my mortal life hiding in shame.

But Jason didn’t think like that. Or maybe he did, I guess I have no real way of knowing. Maybe he was just as terrified as I am right now, hesitant to sign his own death warrant. But nevertheless, he jumped into the fray and sacrificed himself to save his friends. So had all the heroes I’ve met on my journey. They were so brave, much braver than I will ever be. But I owe this to them.

“Python!” I yelled into the echoey cavern. Names have power, especially for immortals. Calling the name of someone who wants to kill you is a death wish. But it sure got his attention.

The enormous serpent opened its eyes, the size of lakes, and stared right at me. “Little Lester,” he growled in that horrible voice. “You appear to be all by yourself, but that can’t be possible. I’m sure you have a whole cavalry hidden with some sort of magic. You might as well reveal yourselves, it won’t make a difference.”

I was frozen, shaking. I remember Python well, he terrified me back when I was a god, as a human teen his presence was simply too much. “No,” I squeaked out. I held on to any courage I had. “It’s just me.”

Python smiled, but tilted his head in confusion. “Then how on Earth do you intend to fight me?”

I dropped my bow and ukulele. “I’m not here to fight.”

Now he was incredulous, and angry as well. “I am going to consume you, your entire essence. You will be destroyed, and I will control this world’s future, and you mean to say you aren’t going to fight it?”

“I’m doing this so my friends can survive.”

Python reeled his head back. “Are you sure you’re Apollo?” He hissed. “No immortal in their right mind would be so cavalier with their existence.”

At that I had to laugh. “I don’t think I was ever in my right mind until I was cast down here. I was arrogant, selfish, and cruel. I cared only for myself. But worst of all, I treated mortals like they were expendable. Insignificant humans, good for a laugh, or a duet, or to fetch me something.

“But these people, they live lives that are so full of value and meaning. They form connections that I’ve never had, bonds stronger than anything you or I are capable of. And then… they end. And humans come to terms with it, they accept it. Their lives are so short, but more full than mine ever was. And if sacrificing my life means that they can live another day, then I am fully willing to do so.”

Python was quiet for a moment, looking almost contemplative. Then he curled his sharp teeth into a menacing grin. “Well, Apollo, one thing certainly hasn’t changed about you. You’re still a fool.”

He unhinged his terrifying jaws, and I dove in without hesitation. In the moment before we collided, I could see myself reflected in his eyes. My face was determined and resigned, but my eyes were the real. They were glowing bright orange, two burning orbs, bright and harsh like the unforgiving desert sun.

I could see Python, my oldest enemy, finally recognize me. His mouth didn’t move, but his expression morphed into one of pure terror.

And then he clamped his jaw down.

A fang came down right on top of me, the impact puncturing my body and shattering my spine. The pain was searing, I was probably a few seconds away from death, when I heard a hum from near me. My plan had been a success after all, the fasces was shattered as well, and was slowly getting brighter and brighter, and I could hear Python screaming out in pain. In a burst of light, we were both gone.

I don’t quite remember being dead. I didn’t have any thoughts, not even a haiku crossed my mind. The only reason I knew I was still there was the pain. It got duller and fuller over time, and I started to worry if that meant I was fading away, out of existence. But even then, that barely concerned me. I knew Python was gone, I had done my job. If I faded away now, it didn’t matter, my friends were alive and safe.

And then suddenly I was alive. The first thing I saw was my sister. She was sitting next to me, arm around my shoulder like she did when we were little. “I’m glad you’re here.” I had never heard those words from Artemis before. I started to tear up. “Zeus wants to see you.”

It took me a while to remember how, but I appeared in my father’s palace, right in front of him. I saw his glowering expression. Then I heard his stern, familiar tone. “You were not supposed to die. It took all I had to bring you back this much, but even now…

“You’re still a god, but not powerful like you used to be. You’re on the level of the most minor of deities, not an Olympian. I know this must be very upsetting to you.”

The strangest thing was, it wasn’t. I had lost my status, most of my power, I should be furious at how diminished I’ve become, but it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Alarming, to say the least.

For some reason, my mind kept drifting back to Camp-Half Blood. My children, all the others I had saved, and my brother, Dionysus, still stuck there. It was odd how happy he had been, just to have someone else to work with. I hadn’t seen him that excited since he was first sent to that camp. I had laughed at the time, but now I think his punishment was no better than mine.

Zeus cleared his throat. “Well, at least you’ve learned your lesson now.” I looked at my father, the man who had caused all of this in the first place. “I’ve learned many lessons, Father.”

“I’m glad you’ve learned how to respect me now, Apollo.” Suddenly I was overcome with anger. This… god consistently refused to take responsibility for his actions, and never took into account anyone’s feelings but his own. He was callous, and egotistical, and awful.

But, that’s just what I was like before my journey, wasn’t it? I was just as awful as he is. But I’m better than that now. I don’t have to go back to the way I was, I can make changes. We gods always said we were stuck as we were, that we needed mortals to change things, or we would keep repeating our history forever.

But the truth is, we could have changed at any time, we just refused to accept that we were the same as humans. We refused to accept that we could be wrong, in need of changes. We just continued pretending we were perfect, because we are cowards. I was a coward. But not anymore. And I am going to write my own prophecy, change my future.

“No, actually, I think that’s the one class I skipped.” He furrowed his brow. “What. Did. You. Say.”

“You need to release Dionysus from his post at Camp-Half Blood. Now.” Thunder roared throughout mount Olympus. “That insolent child hasn’t served his full punishment yet!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be taking over his post effective immediately.”

When I appeared at Camp-Half Blood that day, I kept myself invisible at first. I wanted to see what was going on at camp before I made my presence known. The scenery was always beautiful, but now I looked at it with a sense of nostalgia. Not just as a place to pop in and show off to the young demigods. But as a home.

The first thing I spotted was, in fact, spotted. It was my brother, in his usual ugly leopard print shirt. The second thing I spotted was Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, at camp. I had last heard they were at Camp Jupiter, but they were here now.

Percy and Dionysus were arguing loudly with each other. I caught a snippet of it. “Look Mr. D, me and Annabeth were on the other side of the country, you can’t just teleport us here on a whim!” Dionysus sighed. “It’s not a whim, Peter Johnson, I brought you two here so you could hear my big announcement! Ah, speaking of!”

He amplified his voice, and began. “Attention campers! Please proceed to the courtyard immediately, I have a very important announcement to make!”

Head counselors shuffled kids out of their cabins until everyone was in the courtyard. I heard some kids muttering things like “ugh, this better not be another end of the world.”

Mr. D cleared his throat. “Now that I have your attention, see you losers!” There were cries of confusion from the crowd. “That’s right, Zeus has lifted my punishment early, which means I don’t have to take care of you brats anymore!” He looked almost giddy. He looked to where I was standing, invisible, because of course gods can see each other, and gave me a nod of gratitude, before disappearing in a flash, leaving behind a cluster of grapes. I had the feeling he wasn’t coming back.

The camp fully erupted into chaos, children freaking out left and right. Even the oldest around were confused, this was new territory even for them. A young child ended the chaos by crying out “who’s gonna be in charge of the camp?” The campers paused for a moment, before turning their heads to all look at Percy Jackson.

The poor boy looked almost ready to cry. He so desperately wanted to be done with everything, to have a normal life, go to college with his girlfriend. He didn’t want to spend his whole life at this camp. But he sighed, and said “if I have to step up, I will.”

In a flash of golden light, I made myself visible. “That’s very noble of you, Percy, but it won’t be necessary.” The whole crowd was stunned. I had to smile. Despite it all, I still loved a good dramatic entrance. I heard a familiar voice from the crowd say “Lester?”

I had never been so happy to see a little girl with a terrible pageboy haircut. I did a little wave and said “hi Meg,” weakly.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” She yelled across the courtyard, but I could see she was smiling.

It occurred to me that I still looked like Lester, and even more surprising, that I hadn’t cared to check. I used to spend hours a day agonizing over what form I took, but it hadn’t crossed my mind this whole time. Even stranger, I didn’t feel like changing to someone more handsome. This Lester form felt somehow fitting to me, like I wouldn’t want to change it at all.

“I kinda did die, but I’m back now, and immortal again. But I’m not Apollo. I’m not anywhere near as powerful as I used to be. I’m not even on the Olympian council anymore.”

“Wait, then there’s an empty spot?” Annabeth asked. “An unbalanced council isn’t good.” I nodded my head. “Yes, that’s why I yielded the post to Hestia. I figured she deserved a turn back in the spotlight.”

Percy grinned. “Wow, man, that’s a lot to give up.”

I sighed. “Yes, it is.” I turned back to Meg, tears welling in my eyes. “It’s good to see you again.” She wiped a tear away from her eye. “Well, are you gonna lead us or not?” I smiled. Never change, Meg, never change.

“Right. I’m running this camp now, and you will see some major changes.” The campers looked nervous, probably remembering Mr. D and all his ideas.

“For starters, I’m creating a parents day here at Camp-Half Blood, twice a summer. I understand that some of you don’t have great relationships with your parents, but there are many who do and wish to see them. For those campers, we will provide safe travel so your parents can be here to see you.”

Some kids looked very excited, especially younger ones who had just been pulled away from their parents. I looked up to the sky for this next point. “And also, attendance from godly parents is mandatory!” The sky rumbled with loud thunder. “Don’t try to fight me on this! You all have infinite time and can be in multiple places at once, there’s no reason you can’t be there for your children for a couple of hours!”

The younger campers definitely all looked ecstatic at that, the prospect of meeting their godly parents. The older campers, though more jaded, still smiled at the idea of their parents being there for them. The kids were all chattering excitedly amongst themselves, until one piped up. “What about quests?”

This was the question I’d been dreading, because I didn’t have a good answer for it. I paused. “Quests and prophecies are an unavoidable part of life as a young hero. However, I am aware of how dangerous and traumatizing they can be. So I am instating a policy. If you have gone on a quest, you do not ever have to go on another. You are allowed to opt out, and the gods have promised they will not hold it against you.”

A half-hearted clap of thunder pulsed through the camp. Percy and Annabeth gave me grateful looks.

“Any more questions?” I asked the camp. My son Will raised his hand. “Yeah, what do we call you? You’re not Apollo anymore, and I’m guessing Mr. A isn’t right either, so who are you exactly?”

That was tricky. I didn’t quite know yet. I was certainly still immortal, yet I felt human, so human. But I think I was starting to get the idea.

“I’m Lester. God of Camp-Half Blood.”

#toa #pjo #riordanverse #trials of apollo #tower of nero #ton #fic #toa spoilers #ton spoilers #pjo spoilers

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reithel1 · 3 years

Text

Lucifer: Revelations (Outline for a Movie)

Lucifer: Season 6.66

(How I Would Have Written Season 6):

I Love the actors, the characters and have deep appreciation for everyone in front of and behind the cameras… the story had quite a few good things… but parts were missing, some were confusing and some parts that were just plain mean… you naughty writers!

Lucifer Season Six was a disappointment to a lot of people. I swear, if I hear one more person say “bittersweet” I’m going to kick someone right in their dark chocolate.

It wasn’t “bittersweet” … much of the Chloe-and-Lucifer story was just bitter, period. (Also, a lot of folks are appalled at the way Trixie was snubbed…)

First, it’s obvious that none of your writers are old enough to understand the pain they are trying to write about…

They say, “it’s ok because they know Lucifer and Chloe will have eternity together”… This is something that a younger person would write… someone who has never had to live for several decades without that one person… the love of her life, raise his child alone… missing those milestones… first steps, first giggles, birthdays and holidays… it’s even worse, much worse, if he is somewhere else missing them too and she has to feel his pain too. And that is just HUMAN suffering.

Compound that with knowing your loved one is in a place where a month of your pain is a thousand years of torture for him, and it becomes unfathomable.

I have done the human part and wouldn’t even wish that pain on a fictional character.

That Time Travel nonsense just doesn’t work if it means that Lucifer has to sacrifice everything he has worked through, trying to so hard to come to grips with his own daddy issues. There is NO WAY that he would agree to walk away from his own child after all of that. NO WAY that he becomes a deadbeat Daddy.

So, I learned a new word… RETCON… it means “Retroactive Continuity”… something can be changed so that things that come after it can also be changed…

This can be corrected if it is shown that parts of the sixth season were just old, sick Chloe’s dementia, bad dreams, an injury or an illness-driven hallucination...

For one thing, once Rory returned to Chloe’s deathbed, couldn’t she have EASILY just sent up a prayer to Uncle Amenadiel aka GOD, and said, “I know the truth now, please tell Dad it’s time to come home, Mom needs him... it’s time!” and Lucifer could have been there within seconds! So the final scenes of Chloe dying without him don’t make any sense. Amenadiel not taking Chloe to see her Dad and Mom in heaven before heading to Hell also doesn’t make any sense… if she lived to be old, Penelope would have joined John by then.

So, I present: LUCIFER: REVELATIONS OR SEASON 6.66:

NEW GOD: I would change the plot so that Lucifer initially ascends the throne, attempts being God, (people AND angels died for him to become God, you know), he discovers what a hard job it really is, (remember when he said he hated the cacophony of voices in his head? How hard would it be for him to have to deal with 7.79 billion people praying to him in different languages, almost all at once, and see how he handled THAT!), then discovers Chloe is pregnant and THEN figures out that he doesn’t want the God job... How hard would it be for him when he’s God to constantly hear what she is thinking and have to turn a “deaf ear” to it? Not comment on it out of respect for her... adjust to letting her have some kind of privacy? After awhile, Lucifer begins to take more and more time away from his God duties, as if pretending he’s deaf and turning off his “hearing aid.”

NO GOD: On a celestial level, the other angels get frustrated because Dad has vacated the throne, Michael was gone (being punished in Hell) and Lucifer is gone frequently because he wants to step down — spend more time with Chloe as she nears her due date, then with the baby and Trixie, settling in to being an “earthly” Dad, and sort of neglecting his “Father of the Universe” duties… and Amenadiel doesn’t want it either... New rumbling began regarding who should rule... Since earth is once again basically without a God, things begin to descend into chaos, both on the earthly plane and in Heaven...

MICHAEL: Lucifer’s counsel helps Michael understand that the same parental issues that caused him to be rebellious and mischievous has caused Michael to be resentful and devious… This revelation helps them both, Lucifer forgives Michael and after awhile, Michael finally forgives himself for being a dickhead, and finally self-actualizes his wings back. Michael returns to the Silver City, and is happily reunited with all his siblings who are pleased that he has found his way... but soon, he feels the tension of the empty throne, he considers trying to claim it, but he is a different angel now, feels that it is no longer his destiny or his desire to rule... he feels unfulfilled in Heaven and returns to Hell to help Lucifer with his giant new task of helping lost souls find their own way out.

Lucifer is surprised and very pleased to be working wing-to-wing with his brother and it helps lighten his work load, but is dismayed to hear of the unrest in Heaven and the disintegration of things on earth. Since Michael has made such a transformation, while Lucifer was still God, he fixes Michael’s wing and shoulder, removes his scar and makes him beautiful again, with shimmering gold wings. Now he’s just as lovely as Lucifer and has no further reason for jealousy.

AMENADIEL: I wanted to see Amenadiel in a situation where he saved that racist boss by stepping in front of him and deflecting a bullet… the same black guy he has been so horrid to has now saved him… Amenadiel could have a few choice words for him, maybe pulls his shirt open and show him there is no bulletproof vest… right before leaving to go back to the Silver City.

NEW REBELLION: Near the end of the Movie: Wouldn't it be great if Lucifer and Michael could return to Heaven for a battle scene and fight together with Amenadiel against a new rebellion led by someone other than Lucifer or Michael? Now Lucifer is finding out how his father felt when Lucifer rebelled against Him all those many years ago! Surprised? Betrayed? Angry? Hurt? (Maybe it could even be Rory or some as-yet unborn angel child that starts this rebellion against him... but this time, it’s not because he wasn’t a good Dad, but because he is not being a good God in their eyes.)

They would find a way to make their brothers and sisters stand down by stopping the rebellion by a show of wit and power but not fighting... maybe just as the battle is about to begin, Lucifer (who is still God at this point) slices a veil of clouds with the flaming sword, showing a brilliant white and diamond view of a Heavenly Host of souls, millions of them... (CGI) all the good souls who have agreed, plus all the souls that he has saved from Hell and ascended to Heaven who have vowed never to serve any angel who takes the throne by force... (this scene would be great close to the end of the movie for a chance to see everyone one last time as they all stand together in the clouds in support of Lucifer), and can include any/all main characters that have recently deceased — if any — Ella, Maze, Eve, Linda, Trixie... previous characters: John and Penelope Decker, Dan and Charlotte, Father Kinley/Dromos and Squee, Delilah, Jimmy Barnes, Father Frank, Candy Morningstar, Reese, Cain, Abel and LeMec and Mr Said Out Bitch and any angels like RayRay, Zadkiel, Sara, Gabriel, and any other fan favorites from the past that we’d recognize, anyone who is available and willing to do it for the right price), and it is an amazing, breathtaking sight to behold... and with Chloe, Michael, and Amenadiel by his side, Lucifer says, “What would be the point of sitting on a throne in an empty kingdom where the only ones to bend a knee will be a few of your own brothers and sisters?”

This has paved the way for the New God...

(Note: For a couple of seconds each, show a view of the couch back home in Hell’s Therapy Office: Julian and his dad Mr. Tiernan are waiting for their session, squabbling. In another room, Malcom is sitting in a lumpy chair in front of a big screen TV that doesn’t work, with a table of food looks beautiful but has no taste or smell, and a glance into another room with Pete surrounded by lilies, listening to angry women — Ella’s voice and his mother’s — screaming at him 24/7. He and Malcom are both staring at a sign above a Red Light that isn’t lit... “Come to Therapy Office when Lit”)

NEW GOD/OG GOD: The three brothers calmed the rebellion, but they still have an empty throne that none of them really want to ascend to... Lucifer is still technically God, and Michael and Amenadiel try to convince Lucifer that he should resume his duties but Lucifer and Michael are now humble enough to know that it is not their calling... their work in Hell needs them.

Big fanfare! Dad comes back, and Lucifer gladly returns the family business back to its rightful owner... ALL of Lucifer’s lessons are NOW FINALLY completed, FINALLY he has a whole new understanding of how tough God’s job was, he has a whole new appreciation and respect for his Dad and the two of them can finally have the relationship they have always needed and Lucifer has always craved and Lucifer will finally have the chance to have a real family with his Dad and Mum, since they worked out their shit in her dimension, (He’s GOD for Heaven’s sake, you damn well know He can travel between dimensions if He wants to, and I’m sure Goddess is equally powerful and can come and go as She pleases too... gimme a break!

PS: Uriel and Remi can make an appearance too, because I am quite sure Dad is very capable of snatching his children’s souls out of their bodies, or creating replicas or holograms or whatever… removing them from harm’s way just in the nick of time, or giving them new bodies up in the Silver City. He IS God!)

God tells Lucifer he saw him at the Colosseum and was practicing blinking his eyes at the end (we saw three quick black outs at the end of season five while Lucifer held up the flaming sword and said, “Oh my Me”... figured it must’ve been God blinking, but it wasn’t mentioned again).

The three brothers now understand the pecking order, Amenadiel is second in command and has his ability to slow time plus almost as many powers as God (but not quite all the “omni’s”), and Lucifer and Michael are 2nd and 3rd in line, having slightly less powers than Amenadiel but more than the other angels, are happy to facilitate the transformation of Hell while helping out in Heaven whenever called upon to do so — those rare times when God, Goddess and Amenadiel are absent, need extra help or errands run somewhere in the world. Lucifer is still the Lightbringer but that is about all that stands him apart from Michael at that point, as they stand together as matching archangels.

And maybe in the end, the seven of them, (Dad, Mum, Amenadiel, Linda, Lucifer and Chloe and Michael) all working together to make earth and hell better places, and raise Charlie, Trixie and Rory and any future angel babies to be the next generation so that Grandpa and Grandma, Moms, Dads and Uncles can actually take a Vacay once in awhile and visit Mum’s dimension... or... Boca maybe? French Riviera? And Michael helps cover the workload in Hell’s Therapy Office, while Lucifer is away.

LINDA: Speaking of Linda, Linda and Amenadiel should realize eventually that they miss each other and really do love each other. In my story, Dad returns and takes his throne back so that would give Amenadiel and Linda plenty of time to fall back in love, especially now that Maze has married and no longer has a reason to be jealous of them. God and Goddess may retire eventually, or at least lighten their load in this dimension so they can work part time in Goddess’s dimension, so it would be nice if Amenadiel wasn’t going to be alone for eternity since he will obviously be second in command, and in charge, when God and Goddess are busy elsewhere. Plus, there’s Charlie and maybe future angel babies???

DAN: I would have shown Lucifer spending more time with Dan but getting frustrated with him like he always did, (and like he did with Mr. SOB), until he finally takes Dan through a rewind of every important scene of the last days of his life, in reverse, to see why he was feeling guilty... he would have landed on Trixie and their game of unicorn armies soon enough. (And by the way... how is it that Lucifer instantly knew the source of Lee’s guilt, and the Professor’s, and apparently everyone else’s in hell, but couldn’t figure out what Dan was feeling guilty about???) The way Dan ended up in Heaven with Charlotte, waffles and chocolate pudding cups was pretty perfect. I wouldn’t change that.

They didn’t need the whole time travel bullshit to pull it off... and it would have made a much better story without it.

MAZE and EVE: Maze and Eve was pretty good... in a movie, we could see more of their daily life, find out if they have a dungeon in their basement... you know, for Saturday night orgies... (or for some quick, fun torture before turning in their bounty catches)... find out if they ever decided to raise a kid together... maybe Trixie went to stay with them when she turned 18?

Plot twist! Maybe something happens to Trixie and Maze sacrifices herself to save her and dies... ends up in Heaven after all. (See below.)

ADAM: I thought the guy they cast for Adam was an odd choice... Eve looked like she came from that region, but he didn’t look like someone who supplied a rib to make her... all things being equal and taking DNA into consideration.... He should have looked more like her.... But oh well, not my place.... Anyway... maybe God can park Adam in Mum’s new universe and see if She can “pull” something better out of him, LoL. Hopefully his first two sons in Her dimension won’t set us all up to be potential homicidal maniacs.

ELLA: Ella and Carol seemed to be getting along ok, we could find out if she finally found a good guy... or does she like tequila too much to stick with him? Does he backslide into drinking and become violent with her? Does she have to defend herself with the taser she keeps on her key ring these days?

LOL. Anyway, there should be a scene where RayRay comes for a visit... maybe two scenes... one where she stops by to say hello right when Ella finds out that celestials are real and then again at the moment of her death. And Ella should feel welcomed and comforted by her friend RayRay in that moment... which could be something violent and dramatic (and very poignant) if it happens when she’s young... like a shooter in the police station or something.

Then she could see Amenadiel and Lucifer when they welcome her into Heaven. After Michael redeems himself, he and Ella might be a great pair in Heaven... she’s always been attracted to bad boys, and Michael, being an ex-bad boy, might be just what she needs... and her heavenly brightness, might be just what he needs! Michael needs somebody to love him and give him the balance that Chloe gives Lucifer. Yes... perfect... and then Michael would also have his eternal mate. Michael could even fly her down to Hell at some point to peek in on Pete… just for shits and giggles.

One final note about Ella... once God returns, now that Ella knows the truth... she will demand a wedding. We all know Ella wouldn’t let Chloe’s baby be born without Chloe being married to the baby daddy... even if he is an angel... and even if the officiant is God... she would want the pomp and circumstance and the flourish for Chloe and for all their friends. (Because their police friends don’t know that Lucifer is an Angel and God-frey is GOD and Lucifer’s brother/aka Officer Amenadiel is an Angel...) she would want to put on the whole shindig as much for them as the for the happy couple! (The fans want it too!) And woweee what a wedding night!

TRIXIE: I would have shown a few short clips and bits or a montage of Trixie as she reached adulthood… not only milestones like getting driver’s license and a not-catholic-Chloe giving her the keys then crossing herself… first kiss, cap and gown pic of high school graduation, but also brief scenes of her holding pic of Dan crying… maybe even looking at her mom’s gun… sitting on Linda’s couch…

Maybe Trixie follows in the family tradition and joins the LAPD when she’s old enough... Pete has been in a mental institution but has conned everyone that he’s sane and is out now… Trixie is in the precinct when Pete shows up bearing a grudge and a semi-automatic pistol… Maze and Eve are there with their latest bounty, Ella is there with some evidence on a case, and is scared when she sees him… Pete shoots at Ella, but Maze jumps him, takes the bullet, starts fighting… Pete isn’t great with a gun (and he’s still crazy) so he misses Ella, but he keeps shooting… then RayRay shows up, tells Ella not to worry, to close her eyes, everything will be fine,(nobody else can see her of course)… Maze ends up saving Trixie and Eve and several other people in the office with her ninja skills, but during the scuffle, one of the bullets hits Ella and several others are deflected, but Maze takes two more hits that would have killed Trixie and Eve and a couple of other officers receive non-life-threatening GSWs. Maze is a tough cookie, but even she can’t survive being shot three times at close range… and RayRay makes sure Ella feels no fear or pain as she transcends then goes back for Maze who survives a little longer. Long enough for a tearful, heartfelt goodbye to Eve... maybe she sings a few bars of Wonderwall? Eve, who, being 13 billion years old herself, may follow her to Heaven with a broken heart (or an aneurism or a ruptured appendix) soon after. Who knows. She’s never been sick before... will she know what to do if she feels a pain in her right side?

Ooooo! I just added this:

As she is dying, Maze thinks Eve’s wound is superficial, (but is it?), and tells Eve she thinks she is “Done, ‘over-and-out” and probably headed for Squee’s chamber of torture in Hell since she’s not sure Lucifer ever finished making the changes regarding who could rule…

After RayRay drops off Ella in Heaven she returns to the precinct massacre… Maze thinks she’s there to take Eve and begs RayRay to let Eve live… To keep us guessing, the scene changes…. SO, did RayRay take only Eve back to Heaven? Or put one under each arm and fly away? Did she take one to Heaven and one to Hell? Stay tuned…

Trixie was saved by Maze’s sacrifice and ultimately becomes a Detective like her mom and dies heroically, in the line, years later, after marrying and giving Chloe and Lucifer a couple of grandchildren to dote over. Happy reunion scene in Heaven with Dad-Dan and Grandma Penelope Decker, meets Grandpa John Decker. Maybe it could do a quick view of the person Trixie gave her life to save who goes on to become a doctor and find a cure for a disease. Framed on the doctor’s desk is a newspaper clipping of a headline, “Ninja Cop Saves Kid” subheading “Officer Subdued Three Suspects Using Karambit, Freed Hostage Before Being Shot”

LINDA: It doesn’t have to be Rory that helps Lucifer figure out that he’s supposed to be a therapist is Hell... LINDA could be the one to point out to Lucifer that he offered Lee, (Mr. Said Out Bitch), some excellent advice, the same way she’s been offering Lucifer advice for the past five years, only Lee actually took that advice (unlike Lucifer who usually skews or screws up her advice)... And that’s why Lee was there in heaven to help him when he crash-landed... “And hey... wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone could give that kind of advice to other souls down in Hell? Because until the moment that YOU TOOK THE TIME to explain it to Lee, NOBODY DOWN THERE KNEW what was causing their hell loops or that they had ANY CHANCE or ANY METHOD of escaping them! Maybe they just needed somebody to give them that clue. What do you think Lucifer? Do you know anybody who might be UNIQUELY QUALIFIED for that job?” — you see??? No need for a friggin' time travel plot device... no need to torture Lucifer, who has already spent billions of years in hell, by taking him away from the love of life and his child for billions more years!

I could also see Lucifer having a standing weekly appointment with Linda both while still living and in Heaven after she passes, to discuss his most difficult cases and get her take on them and opinions on what he should say, which he will get right sometimes and spectacularly fuck up other times!

Linda loves her role as therapist to the celestial world, and her man is God and Goddess’s 2nd in Command now, her son is an angel... she is set for eternity! The doctor is IN!

CHARLIE, RORY, OTHER ANGEL BABIES: After Amenadiel and Linda come to their senses and finally commit to being together, they should have a set of twins, possibly more babies later. Lucifer and Chloe should have at least one more. Angel babies are smart… half humans start normal… get their wings around the time they are potty trained. Linda and Chloe provide discipline, human education… empathy, sympathy, joy, and as much human history as possible. The children would be extremely smart, could skate through school jumping grades… so being home-schooled seems more logical. Controlling excitable, hyperactive children who can fly will prove quite challenging for the human parents, but the angel Daddies are thrilled with their role… teaching them to fly, schooling them about celestial business… Also, they could grow in stature faster than normal human children. They would look grown up by the age of five, but would still be as immature as children and need their mothers to guide their emotional maturity to catch up to their rapid growth.

DECKERSTAR: In my story, we get to see Lucifer and Chloe happy together, raising Trixie and Rory... Chloe always trying to keep her devilish side in check while Daddy's always having fun. Rory has him wrapped around her pinky and he is a doting daddy. She’s a handful, brilliant in school.... Sometimes a little “spirited” and that gets her in trouble.

She gets bullied at school, she says, “back off Billy, you got no idea who my daddy is! Remember the girl that bullied Trixie?

I can picture her first date... Lucifer says, “have her home by 9:30 OR ELSE” and flashes his red eyes...

The first time a date gets fresh with her and she says, “No means NO!” and tosses them out of the car!

Oh hell, watching Lucifer and Chloe raise Rory and Trixie and any other little angels that come along would be hilariously funny... could be it’s own spin off “Devil Daddy Knows Best” or Daddy Devil Knows Best... I can’t decide.

NUDITY: In a movie, we can see more of Lucifer in the nude, and have hotter sex scenes.... Not x-rated or anything, but we could get closer to R-rated... definitely expand on that orgy scene in “Orgy Pants to Work”!!! (Tom’s wife looks enough like Lauren that with the right lighting and camera angles, they could do a lot together using her as Lauren’s body double and with editing, we would never know which was which!!!). And maybe he’d actually KISS HER.

Sure, the whole “Chloe growing older while Lucifer stays young” plot thing is a pain in the ass... for some of the years, he could dye his hair greyer to match hers until it was white, even though his face wouldn’t have aged.... People see what they want to see... but it would have been a lot more heart-wrenching to have a scene where an older-looking Chloe calls a family meeting and asks the children to please understand that society just won’t handle the truth, and they must fake Lucifer’s death so that they can start a new life someplace else where nobody knows them... that means they won’t get to see him very much because he will have to live elsewhere and they can only go visit and have to pretend he’s dead. At least that way, Chloe can see him on weekends and vacations, and he can fly in for quick visits in the middle of the night when either of them get too lonely. They can set things up ahead of time for rendezvous.

At some point, she can retire from the LAPD and announce that she is moving to Florida or Vegas (some place where folks are used to seeing older women with younger men), or whatever, and she can be a cougar and he’s her pool boy? Massage therapist? Chef? (Could be a running joke.)

When she reaches a certain age, it could be a tear jerking scene if she asks him to leave her because she is embarrassed about her failing body, but would he? Why wouldn’t he just agree to allow her to lie to people and say he was living with her because he was her nephew or male nurse or something? Or simply say he was her caretaker… which wouldn’t be a lie… At that point, nobody would know them, and it’s nobody’s business anyway...

And he would definitely be by her bedside when she died, and so would Trixie and Maze and anyone else that was still alive, (if any... or did she outlive them all because she was stuck with the Tree of Life??? Nobody told us if that, and being able to conceive angel babies were the side effects of being stabbed with the Tree of Life...) and upon her death there would be a tender, tearful, “see you soon,” then RayRay would show up, she would transform into her younger self, and Lucifer would fly her to Heaven to see Amenadiel and her Dad, probably her mom by then, and any of their friends if any of them died first.

OR... DECKERSTAR 2nd OPTION:

We could dispense with the whole “she’s growing old and whatever shall we do???” problem, and just have Chloe die doing what she loves best.. protecting somebody in the line of duty. She could be approaching retirement... she and Lucifer could already be having the “I’m starting to look too old to be with you even though you’re dyeing your hair grey... what should we do?” conversation when one day, they are coming out of a fast food joint with the grandkids and bank robbers step out of the bank next door, she yells “LAPD!” they both step in front of the grandkids as she pulls her gun... RayRay shows up one second later… you see where I’m going with this right? Tearful goodbye scene… no rescue this time… Lilith’s ring is empty… this time, it is her human destiny.

After her death, Lucifer would carry her to Heaven to visit her dad and anyone who predeceased her, and then they would travel back and forth together where she would help him redeem souls part of the time in hell. Same outcome as Season 6.

Maybe, since she was a handmade gift from God (via Amenadiel) to start with, God will turn her into an angel and give her matching white luminescent wings so that she can stand beside Lucifer as an equal, and that way, they can also fly to earth now and then for vacations all over the world after all their friends and family members have crossed over (so nobody on earth freaks out from accidentally seeing them again, LoL, but if she outlived everybody anyway... problem solved.) Hey, He’s God, He can do anything, right? ;o)

Along those same lines, in special consideration for all the help and happiness they have brought to Amenadiel and later to Michael, I could also see God and Goddess granting wings and angel status to Linda and Ella so that they can be suitable mates for His sons for their eternity in Heaven, and able to enjoy all of the perks that go along with that… Maybe, if Chloe outlives them all and she is the last to arrive in Heaven, they could even have a little ceremony, where God and Goddess bestow wings and angel status on them all, including Maze and Eve, which might come as a HUGE surprise to Maze, who never dreamed she’s make it to Heaven to begin with.

They could keep the parts where Chloe and Amenadiel work toward cleaning up the LAPD… and we definitely need to hear Tom sing more… a lullaby to his baby… childhood songs when they’re older and of course, show him teaching them the piano and guitar… of course we must have full blown staged musical numbers… maybe have him sing softly to Chloe as she’s sleeping… and/or as she’s dying… it could be amazing. And I loved Bob the Drag Queen… Lux should bring the RuPaul Review and enjoy several of them… they put on a great show!

One more thing... we NEED a making-love scene with Lucifer holding Chloe in his arms while flying! Wings covering everything important, of course, but it is obvious what they’re doing! Joining the mile-high club! How about on the wedding night?!? Whooohooo!!!!! (If Chloe isn’t already pregnant when this wedding night flight happens, maybe this is when Rory is conceived???)

There’s enough there for a movie or about a dozen more episodes of the show... This is only an outline, but but I could write stories myself for some of these ideas… hell, they practically write themselves. Anyway, THAT’S how I would outline a Movie: Lucifer: Revelations… or Lucifer Season 6.66!!!

Now... let’s get busy and do it different this time (with no time travel nonsense and no sadistic torturing DECKERSTAR)! LOL

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spookyspaghettisundae · 3 years

Text

What Would Follow the Healing

The warrior's axe trailed behind him in the dirt, dragged by a weary hand too weak to lift it any longer. He lurched and stumbled, weary not from the sun's relentless rays beating down upon his bare bronzed torso, but from the numbness that gripped his body.

A shambling gait to keep moving forward, ever forward, was the most strength he could summon. Gravel crunched underneath his sandals, and he kicked up dust whenever he tripped, oblivious to the pain throbbing from the snakebite in his calf—to the venom that had long spread throughout every limb.

At this crawling, miserable pace, he had wandered the desert for long enough to have lost all sense of time and expected death to greet him any moment now. Yet he wanted to live. To fight another day. To not perish to the bite of some lowly creature after having braved so many battles for his god against able-bodied men.

His pride—his determination—allowed him to hold on. He wiped the sweat from his brow and paused to catch his ragged breath. He coughed through chapped lips, hacking, wheezing, reeling, and almost keeling over.

The world blurred until he squinted hard enough to spot his destination. He blinked and struggled to see past the distortion of unbridled heat rising from the scorched tawny rocks and sands. To see where he had lumbered off towards to seek his only hope at salvation.

Where the grounds sloped down, a beautifully shimmering stream emerged from jagged stone and mounted into a rippling pond, around which a small oasis of palm trees had arisen. A thin plume of smoke trailed into the skies from the chimney of a quaint sandstone hovel, squat on the edge of the oasis.

The Witch Crossing.

He picked up his pace, driven by hope again.

Loose rocks tumbled down and he caught himself upon some dried exposed roots as he descended the final slope to the tiny dwelling. The stones cracked and clattered and rolled down alongside him and one of the rocks bounced off the trunk of a palm tree. His axe lazily clanged against a rock as he marched on, finding new vigor and energy even if he could not shrug off his awful condition, no matter how much he tried to will it away.

Only as he neared the dingy little shelter did his impaired vision afford him glimpses of more unsettling details: stacks of bleached human skulls bunched together upon piles of stones, animal skeletons crudely roped together with coarse twine to form strange magick fetishes, and eerie arcane symbols etched into boulders with the sharp edges of simple stone tools.

Halfway across the oasis, she suddenly appeared.

The witch.

He had blinked, certainly; fighting with all his might to stay awake and alert, no doubt; but in one moment, the cloth curtain covering the entrance to the witch's hovel had stood closed, and in the next, she stood in front of it, staring at him through wide eyes.

Amber, piercing, unblinking, more unsettling than the strange decor that surrounded her eerie abode. Her olive skin was covered in dirt and black hand-painting that matched the glyphs upon the stones, contrasting those bright and cruel eyes.

Her attire took him aback, for she wore nothing but a skirt of hide and vulture bones, breasts bare for him to lose focus on.

"What is it you seek here, pilgrim?" she asked. Raspy was her voice, authoritative her speech, hungry in a way—reminiscent of smoke and the crackle of embers exploding from a fire. "Are you so daft to not heed any warnings?"

He coughed and his knees wobbled, and he did his best to remain standing.

He knew that she knew. Her piercing gaze said it all, wandering up and down his figure and studying him.

She knew what condition he was in.

He looked like death.

"A snake bit me," he said.

She scoffed. "Yes. I see that."

Between more ragged breathing and the ensuing silence growing longer and longer, a twinge of anger welled up in his gut, making his heart beat even faster yet, and leaving his vision clearer than from before the venom starting to dull his senses.

"Then help me, witch! I have treasure! I have gold. You can have anything you want from me," he said, wheezing in between the last words.

"Anything?" she said with a smug smirk.

"Anything!"

He pawed at the tiny pouch hanging from his belt. Fingers fumbled with the knotted cord that kept it by his side, then gave up. He furiously ripped at it and the string snapped. He tore the little leather satchel open and emptied its clinking contents onto the ground. Coins of different color and bearing many different crests, and a small emerald and a beautiful ruby, they all glittered and sparkled in the sun as they plummeted down, landing softly in the sand.

The smug smirk vanished from her visage.

"Fool. Am I to scoop that up from the dirt like a dog?" she said, glaring at him.

Her face never flinched. The dried black paint upon her face lent her statuesque features a fierce and fearsome air.

With a groan, he dropped to his knees and hastily started gathering the coins and gems again.

"I don't want your riches," said the witch. "What would I spend them on, fool? Those who share your creed are the ones that drove me out here. I do not trade with the people you call 'civilized'. Your coin is worthless to me."

He groaned again. Slammed a fistful of coins into the dirt. Then he met her cruel stare with an angry glare of his own.

"Then name your damned price. Is this not Witch Crossing?"

She arched a brow and asked, "Which crossing?"

"Witch Crossing. Witch doctor, are you not?"

"Which doctor?"

Though her play on words was lost on him, he knew she was mocking him.

Though the jumble of emotions and the torrent of pain afforded him no space to let go and relax, lest he lose his consciousness and die miserably without her aid, he knew better than to offend her. Likely, she reveled in the power she currently held over his life, like a sword hanging from a thread that dangled above his head.

Right now, she was the only thing standing between him and the jaws of death. The hollow eye sockets of skulls piled up nearby stared back at him, empty and uncaring and foreboding of the grim fate that awaited him.

He shouted at her, "Enough, woman! Do not mock me! I have slain capable warriors!"

"And you threaten to kill me before I can heal you? You are truly a foolish fool, pilgrim."

"I am no pilgrim," he said, sighing with resignation. Breaking eye contact, for she truly held all the power. He was at her mercy. "I am of the warriors who hunt down the savage cult of serpent-worshippers out here."

"Yes, I recognize the bronze symbol you wear around your neck, you fool. Martyr. Martyr and fool. You martyrs are all fools."

"Watch your tongue," he hissed at her.

His vision immediately blurred. Did she grin again in response to his threats? Or did his words simply not reach her, unable to penetrate a black heart devoid of all mercy?

"A cult hunting a cult, nothing of which I should concern myself with. Do you reckon I should draw their ire by aiding you?"

"Please," he begged.

He clasped his hands together, almost as whenever he did in prayer before the imposing statues of his god. Just as empty then, his gesture was empty now—all self-serving. Only a hoarse rasp escaped his throat, and words failed him.

She, however, continued to chide him, "Or must I expect your fellow faithful to march upon my home to harass me if I leave you out here to waste away from your own stupidity?"

"Please. Heal me," he croaked.

She suddenly stood closer. Had he even blinked? Having disappeared from her doorstep to standing suddenly in front of him, ten paces closer, eliciting a surprised gasp from him. He fell back, too much weight coming to rest upon his swollen leg—it had doubled in size since suffering the bite—and he emitted a piercing shout of pain before crumpling onto his side in response.

She crouched down beside him and grabbed him by his cheeks, squeezing and scrunching his face uncomfortably in between the fingers of one hand and her thumb as she wrenched his face around to stare into his eyes, up close.

He dared not resist. The sharp reminder, the throbbing agony flaring up from his snake-bitten calf, it pressed him to be wiser about crossing the savage witch of Witch Crossing.

In this unforgiving desert, where the snake worshippers reigned supreme and he had lost all his companions in battle against the heathens, this lonesome witch now posed his only hope.

After piercing his soul with her baleful gaze, she sneered at him and released him from her grip.

"Savage is what you call me."

"I have never," he protested. But not too loudly.

It was true that he had never named her thus—out loud. In his thoughts, however, that was exactly what she was to him.

Hex-bearer. Poison-maker. Child-slayer. Beast-lover. Man-eater.

"But your kin have, and you would ape their words in a heartbeat, just like you all ape your prayers to a god that never answers."

He bit his tongue.

She said, "Answer me honestly, for your life depends on it. Were the tables turned, would you aid me if I beseeched you?"

He swallowed, and it felt like swallowing a handful of gravel and grit. Her stare drilled deeper into his soul, and he knew better than to lie.

"No," he finally breathed.

Said the witch, "Truth. You would laugh in my face and leave me to rot among the sands and the beasts."

"And you would have me die like this? To right a wrong before it is even committed?"

He pleaded with her. With every fiber of his pain-wracked being, he pleaded. Not even by words, but by appealing to whatever shred of goodness might be left over in the darkest reaches of her being. He pleaded with his eyes, with his continued kneeling before this unbeliever.

"You are useless to me. I cannot even eat you, as envenomed as you are," she said.

She grinned at him. Toothy, bright white teeth, flawless. Too perfect for one who was said to taste human flesh. A grin that did not reach her eyes, all wicked and marveling at the pain that had brought him this low before her.

These were no idle words, he sensed. She truly ate people.

This was why they called her savage. Witch.

Monster.

The grin faded from her lips, hiding her teeth again. Could she read his thoughts?

"Perhaps you can be useful after all," she said. "If you do one thing for me, I shall do one thing for you. Your coin is of no use to me, but the arm that wields your axe may serve another purpose. It still holds strength and can carry your sorry hide on one more quest."

He gasped. Neither in confusion nor in pain, but in surprise.

"Name it," he breathed. Swallowing another lump in his throat.

The chance of living dangled in front of him while he spotted a mirage on the horizon. A gleaming light, a vision of his god, beckoning him to march on as bravely as he ever had. All in his mind, he understood, but it was his hope manifesting.

"Please, tell me what to do," he begged, focusing on meeting her unsettling gaze once more.

She pointed down the stream that crossed her oasis.

"There is a cave downstream. Follow the flow of water and you cannot miss it. In that cave dwells a beast, as strong as three men and all tooth and fang. Bring me its head. And I will heal you."

The shining light of his god on the horizon faded, making way to the shadow of death, creeping closer towards him once more.

"Y-you—you are out of your mind. As strong as three men? I am but one, and not even at full strength with this snakebite," he said, shaking his head. Breaking eye contact.

So close to salvation, yet so far. The silence she left to drape over them was deafening.

Motes of sand carried by the breeze lazily swept over them. Wind howled through the hollow of the skulls and the witch's hovel.

The skulls smiled at him. Mocked him just like she did.

Meeting her gaze again, he nodded in resignation. Unlike the skulls, she did not grin any longer, but the derision in her very existence got to him. It fed the anger in his belly. The futility of releasing it upon her was abundantly clear to him, only shoveling more coal into the flames of his impotent rage.

Yet—he now reckoned he could always kill her after she healed him.

He nodded again and groaned as he gripped one of the glyph-covered boulders and heaved himself back up onto his feet, swaying and wobbling where one of his legs failed to support him and his body threatened to stop obeying him altogether.

She helped him stand. Calloused fingers grazed his shoulder with surprising softness, sending tingles down his spine. To his surprise, she folded his fingers around the grip of his axe, ensuring that he held it firmly.

No more of her awful grins saw him off.

Instead, she pointed down the stream, prompting another nod from the warrior, for it took him more than a second to regain his sense of vision and discern which way the water flowed. The world spun around him in his dizziness, and every finer detail blurred into the bright sun's blinding light.

Though his hand gripped the axe more fiercely now, the weapon's blade soon trailed behind him in the dirt again, dragged in a weary hand too weak to lift it any longer, the head of the axe now scraping against rock and sand until he reached the edge of the water.

He lurched and stumbled downstream. By the time he was out of earshot from the witch, he recoiled and then bent forward, emptying his stomach of its contents, splattering the naked rock before him with his vomit.

The wind howled again, carrying dust across the rocky desert.

Once his shambling gait had carried him over the bend of several boulders, out of sight from the witch, she smiled to herself.

She smiled because she harbored no hopes of him ever slaying the beast. The saber-toothed cat that lived in that cave was her beloved pet. She had reared it from the day it had been a whelp.

She had lied as much as she could to the warrior-zealot, reckoning that he would have killed her once she healed him. The witch could have ended his life once he laid down to rest and eaten the warrior with ease; the venom in his flesh would not have harmed her. Nor would it harm her beloved cat.

However, she relished the thought of providing her pet with an easy snack.

She disappeared back into her hovel to continue working on her stew.

The warrior would never be seen again.

—Submitted by Wratts

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