Tumgik
#technically pre-relationship
veinsfullofstars · 2 months
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✨ May I interest you in some Dedede and Meta Knight as childhood friends? ✨
(ID: Kirby series fanart, Childhood Friends AU, of King Dedede and Meta Knight as kids interacting in various cute and wholesome scenarios, such as coloring, cloud-watching, sparring with sticks, overindulging on sweets, protecting each other from bullies, and more. Design-wise, young Dedede is short and chubby with a smaller beak and three feathers sticking up from the top of his head. He wears a pair of red overalls with gold buttons on the straps and a pocket on the front with a white two-finger peace sign. Young Meta Knight is maskless and similar in appearance to Kirby, save for his yellow eyes, dark blue complexion, and a pair of tiny wings on his back. Additional headcanons and worldbuilding for this AU under the cut. END ID.)
UPDATE 03/11/24: Added a scar to Meta's head. | UPDATE 04/24/24: Touched up a few headcanons below.
Started on 10/09/23, finished on 10/11/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 10/11/23.
-This AU primarily takes place within the Kirby gameverse (with a few superficial elements borrowed from external media), the timeline starting decades before the events of KDL and eventually catching up to and following the main games’ canon (with nods to side games and some unique events added here and there for character flavor). I am trying to stay canon-compliant, but I’m also kinda making things up as I go and changing them as needed, so no promises I won’t just go completely off the rails the more I workshop things, haha.
-I'm mostly going to leave ages nebulous in this AU, but - for clarity's sake - we'll say Dedede and Meta are both the equivalent of 7-to-11 years old here, though they first met a little earlier...
-Meta Knight is just called Meta for now - he won’t earn his title until after he starts his overstars military training with the Galaxy Soldier Army (GSA) in his late teens.
-That hammer belongs to Dedede’s mama - a former pro-wrestler - and will someday be passed down to him (once he’s strong enough to actually pick it up).
-The Star Warriors/GSA inclusion in this AU is more for flavor than any major role. In this version, they are basically an intergalactic military group fighting various forces of evil and providing relief-aid across the universe, their reputation generally positive thanks to a genuine effort on their part to balance acts of war and defense with acts of philanthropy, community assistance, and compassion, well-known enough to reach even distant Popstar. Any known Star Warriors - Sir Arthur, Sir Dragato, Kit Cosmos, etc. - are either long since passed on or retired somewhere outside of the story. Upon learning of the GSA, Meta becomes enamored with their deeds and longs to be a knight himself (not yet aware of the hardships involved in becoming one).
-The kids like to spar for fun in their free time, but on occasion they get proper training from Dedede’s papa - a retired knight with connections to the GSA who’d settled in Dream Land with his wife just before they had their only son. Meta looks up to him with the same admiration he has for the Star Warriors. Dedede, however, doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with his well-meaning but rather strict father.
-Meta is quite shy around people he doesn’t know well. In overwhelming situations, he tends to either shut down and go non-verbal or quietly slip away to recoup. That said, he is much more expressive around those he trusts, listening eagerly and chatting far more than he would otherwise.
-Dedede has an impulsive streak and likes to make wild plans that tend to put him and his buddies in precarious situations (when he can be bothered to actually follow through with them, that is). Meta is often the first to point out the flaws in his plans (if Para Dee doesn’t do it first) but inevitably ends up tagging along anyway, his wariness easily overturned by his curiosity.
-Meta is sometimes bullied by the bigger kids in the village due to his strange appearance and timid nature. Dedede is quick to step in and defend him, usually getting into scraps in the process. It will be a little while before either of them gain the respect of their peers…
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keldae · 9 months
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Writer’s Month 2023: Day Two
Word: Perfume / Setting/AU: camping AU
If anyone asked, Theron running across the Hero of Tython in a cantina on Nar Shaddaa was completely happenstance. It wasn't like he'd discretely arranged his schedule to come across Xaja Taerich here, after all.
Absently, Theron wondered if tracking Master Taerich's movements like this was perhaps a little bit stalkerish. Except, he reasoned, he had no ill intent for Xaja. He just wanted to reassure her that he was okay in the wake of the SIS putting a bounty on him, and get a brief status check with her, in the shadows cast by neon lights. It wasn't like he was stalking her with the plan of getting her attention or causing her harm…
… still, it's a bit stalkerish, he grumbled to himself. Maybe this was why he was single, apart from being a workaholic.
He looked up from his whisky when he suddenly smelled something faint, yet familiar to him, something he associated in his mind with the feisty little redhead who he couldn't get his thoughts away from. Said redhead leaned against his table a second later, green eyes twinkling down at him. "Hey, handsome," she said, "looking for a good time?"
Oh, am I, Theron thought before he could stop himself. "I could be persuaded," he responded with a smirk, giving her a very obvious once-over. She'd forsaken her normal tunics in favour of a cropped shirt and a leatheris jacket; the peek of bare skin around her navel sent a burst of heat through Theron that was completely unrelated to the whisky. She'd dressed for Nar Shaddaa, and yet to him, she still looked like Xaja. It had to be her normal ponytail, and her jade-green eyes, and the perfume she wore. Now that he'd identified it, it was all he could smell – and he definitely wasn't complaining. "How about you sit your pretty ass down and I get you something?"
Xaja grinned, then surprised Theron by coming around to sit right beside him, instead of across the booth. The spy couldn't complain about that either, as he reached his arm to wrap around her waist as though he did this all the time with her. "What's a charmer like you doing in a place like this?" she asked, playing up the flirty spacer act (or maybe the flirty hooker act) by resting her legs over Theron's lap and forcing him to suppress a groan.
"Lookin' for a good time with some good company. And I think I found it." Theron smirked and leaned in to boldly kiss Xaja's cheek, using the opportunity to whisper in her ear. "Korin teach you how to act like this?"
"Nah, Doc and Kira gave me the run-down on how to act," Xaja whispered back. "You okay?"
It touched Theron's heart that Xaja, the pretty Jedi he was not pining for, was worried about him. "Been way worse," he softly assured her. "Any news?"
"A couple of attacks we think are connected to the Revanites, but can't prove," Xaja murmured. "They seem to be staying quiet. How long are you safe here for?"
"Hmmm." Theron grunted in acknowledgement, then sat back up, letting his gaze openly trail down to Xaja's cleavage – in case of any Revanites watching, or other Republic spies, if anyone asked. He would have loved to keep his nose buried in her hair, where the scent of her perfume seemed strongest, but this view was definitely okay with him. "Baby, for you, I got all the time in the world," he said out loud.
Xaja's cheeks went pink, even under the neon lighting. Still, she smiled, and shivered as his fingers started touching the exposed skin of her lower back. "You promise, loverboy?" she asked, returning to her flirty persona. "You're gonna give me high expectations."
"I'm in good with my bosses," Theron assured her. "You name it, girl, it's all yours. Even a ticket off this rock with me to show you the galaxy."
"Ohhh?" Xaja grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Like where?"
"Like Tatooine, or Ylesia, or Ryloth… I'll show you the stars on the edges of the galaxy." He couldn't say where his next destination was, mostly because he himself wasn't sure yet. But he could tell her where he'd been for the last couple of months, since Manaan. His fingers fumbled around with the back of her belt until he found a pocket in her tight pants; it was easy for him to slip a datachit into the pocket without being noticed. "Check your pockets when you're back in your ship," he lowly instructed, under the premise of kissing her jaw and ear again. The scent of her made him want to forget his job and just focus entirely on her, disastrous as that could be for the mission.
Xaja nodded, but didn't say anything. Was Theron imagining things, or did she seem to be breathing a bit more shakily than normal? It must just have been wishful thinking on his part. A moment later, she sat up straight and winked at him. "So, how about you start showing me that good time you promised by showing me if a cute guy like you can dance?"
Theron grinned and let Xaja pull him to his feet. "Like I'll say no to dancing with a pretty thing like you."
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deecotan · 1 year
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they're not together - they don't even see each other as that yet - so why does he feel so uneasy?!
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blitheringbongus · 4 months
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Take it slow
Scar and Mumbo were supposed to meet up for a tour of Scar land. Scar falls asleep in Mumbos living room, conversation ensues.
(Second fic wooo!! Threw in my own headcanons about Hermitcraft and how the world works, as well as backstories for Mumbo and Scar. I’m a maladaptive daydreamer so I’ve been daydreaming about these guy’s backstories for years and years. Scars backstory used to be different but then Hotguy happened and I became obsessed, anyways have fun reading!)
Mumbos base always look different in each season, but one thing stays the same. The yellow kitchen and brown red-ish living room.
Scar‘s never asked about it, but now, being sat in the old rocking chair, watching the grandfather clock tick on, he can’t help but wonder.
It’s not even that there are variations of these two rooms, as in, they change even just slightly over the seasons. He hasn’t payed a whole bunch attention to it until now, but from what he’s seen and from what he remembers visiting Mumbos base and witnessing these specific rooms in the past, they’re exactly the same! Like a carbon copy!
His eyelids fluttered, oh he was getting real sleepy.
He was supposed to be waiting for Mumbo to meet him, so that Scar could show him around Scarland! He’s only been in the room for probably less than five minutes, granted, but it was feeling like an eternity! Not that Mumbos late or anything.
His limbs started to feel heavy, as did his eyelids. Maybe he could simply rest them? The grandfather clock ticked on, and the cozy chair slowly but surely rocked him to sleep.
The builder dreamt of lands far gone. A city long lost. A life, long lived. He dreamt of his steady bow, and zooming across the city, hopping from building to building. Feeling the fresh wind breeze in his hair, feeling the adrenaline in his body as he fought off villains and creeps, Scar was happy. Then, a faint glow, in the sky, and- Scar? Scar?
„Scar?“ a cold hand shook the mans shoulder gently. He slowly opened his eyes. „Huh?“ the once mayor rubbed his eyes, seemingly confused. „What are you doing here? I thought we’d meet up at Scarland?“
Scar breathed, and took in his surroundings. Unlit fireplace, old furniture, big grandfather clock, stuffy bookshelves stacked with literature.
„Right-„ Scar sat up, did he really fall asleep? He looked up at Mumbo. „How long was I out?“ Mumbo wiggled his mustache, „I’m not sure? I was about to go to Scarland when I found you here, so- depends on how long you’ve been here, I suppose?“ „right,“ Scar lifted his arms, taking a longgggg stretch.
„Geez Mumbo, how do you do anything in this room? It made me fall asleep in- minutes! Probably!“ The redstoner giggled. „You get used to the atmosphere after a while,“
Mumbo sat down on the old sofa beside the chair. „So, off to Scarland?“
Scar groaned, leaning back in the chair. „Let me wake up first,“ he snickered, loving the mans interest in Scarland. Of course he’d be interested in Scarland, it’s amazing! He’s toured so many hermits around already, and yet, Mumbo finding the place interesting felt all the more special to him. He couldn’t place why.
Mumbo nodded, folding his cold dead hands in his lap.
Scar looked around, his gaze catching onto a coat hanger with a fancy looking top hat on it.
„Say, Mumbo,“ Scar began, and the taller man looked at him. „How come you always have these rooms in your base? The kitchen and living room, I mean.“
The expression Mumbos face shifted into was one Scar couldn’t read, but it resembled suprise? Something else was there.
„Oh- why do you ask?“ He crossed his legs, leaning his elbows on one knee, his hands still folded, now resting under his chin.
„Pure curiosity, I suppose,“ Scar laughed nervously. He already regretted asking.
Mumbo puckered his lips, looking around the room himself. Looking at the ugly wallpaper, looking at the small box above the fireplace, holding precious memories.
„Sentiment,“ Mumbo began, „Just- something I’d like to keep from before Hermitcraft.“
The air smelled old, the dust in the air comforting.
„Oh- I’m sorry for asking Mumbo, really-„ Mumbo cut him off, „It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s not taboo to talk about, I’m not sure why most hermits treat it as such.“
The builder looked at the redstoner, and he supposed, he was right.
When he died, when he separated from his old life as a hero, when he joined Hermitcraft, he felt that strong urge to keep his past hidden. To not let anyone know. Which felt strange, he’s usually an open book! Did the other Hermits feel the same? What were their life’s like before?
Scar looked around the antique room. What was Mumbos life like?
Scar took his chances, „What was.. what was it like? If you don’t mind me asking,“ the redstoner smiled. „Another day, Scar“
Scar bit his lip, he drove too far once again- he was supposed to feel bad, but with the way Mumbo was smiling at him, how comfortable he looked, how comfortable he himself felt, it conveyed the message, that it was all fine. That Scar wasn’t a jerk for asking. That Mumbo just wasn’t in the mood. That they’ll discuss it another day.
The builder smiled. „Awake enough yet?“ Mumbo asked, slowly getting up from his spot on the sofa.
Scar blinked, „not quite.“
Mumbo breathed, content. „Mh, would some music wake you up then?“ Music? Scar wondered, „maybe,“ he grinned at the taller.
Mumbos smile grew in a way where you could only see it in his eyes. Joy pinching at the corners of them, lifting themselves ever so slightly, crinkling so beautifully in a way that made Scar want to cry, Mumbo was so beautiful.
What did he just think?
The redstoner walked over to an old radio, leaning down to twist the buttons. „Does that thing still work?“ Scar asked, leaning up in the chair, ignoring his silly thoughts. „Very much so! The audio is a bit crunchy, but it still broadcasts the songs as if it was actually connected to a station!“
Scar watched the mans hands. „Is it connected to a station?“ „Not quite, I don’t think. It’s more so frozen in time, it just plays the songs and broadcasts from- well from the day I departed from it.“ Scars nose scrunched up, he felt bad for the man. The builder lifted himself up from the comfy chair with his arms, slowly approaching the taller. „What kind of songs does it have?“
Mumbo grinned as the radio sprung to life, playing a- as promised,- crunchy tune. „The best,“ you could start to hear a man singing, vocalists in the background. Something about love and New York City. „Have you ever been to New York?“ Scar asked, and the Redstoner turned to face him. „Not quite, no. Have you?“ „I lived there,“ the music was nice. „Oh! What was it like? Is it really the city where dreams come true?“ Scar snickered. „Not really. If you want your dreams to come true you don’t need to visit a city for it,“ „Well that depends on the dream then, doesn’t it?“ „I suppose,“
Mumbo was quiet for a second, watching the radio. A hint of blush dusted the mans cheeks, Scar raveled in the sight. „Would a dance wake you up?“ Mumbo almost whispered, though it came out more like a mutter.
Oh he was adorable. Scar took the mans hand gently. „What dance are we thinking?“
Short moments later, Scars hand was on Mumbos waist and he was holding his hand at shoulder level. Mumbo also held his hand, and the other one of his hands was holding the builders shoulder. They moved slowly to the soft tunes of the radio, the crackling became comforting.
„You were talking about a new addition to Scarland?“ Mumbo said in a slightly higher voice than he’s used to, his blush having deepened, just slightly more than the previous dust of it. The brunette loved how dark it was, as if Mumbos blood is darker than his own. Was it? „Oh- yes! I finally finished Adventure Land! With the- volcano cloud smoke and and bambooo-„ he drawled slightly, still lost in the sauce watching Mumbos face, specifically the slow spread of the deep red.
„Oh really? When’d that happen? It was like- last week where you told me you’d finally started building it up?“ „oh I finished it like two days ago,“ Scar laughed quietly, his own face heating up. He doesn’t remember ever being this close to Mumbo, let alone touch him for more than a few seconds! Or moments, he doesn’t really know the difference. „It was fun, oh I can’t wait to show you. The park in general- have you seen the trolleys?“ Mumbo snickered, „Yes, I’ve seen the trolleys Scar,“ he smiled, and Scar stepped on the mans foot by accident. „Ouch-„ „Sorry!“ Mumbo didn’t mind.
The song slowly came to an end, and another started up. A more upbeat tune, but still fitting to slow dance to. The distance between the two Hermits became less. Mumbos hand was now holding the back of Scars shoulder.
„What do you think I’d especially like?“ The taller smiled, wanting to hear the mans thoughts. „Hmm,“ Scars thought for a while, holding the man close. „I think you’d like the castle the most, though I’m not sure,“ „The castle is impressive,“ „you think so?“ „I know so,“
They fell into a comfortable silence, just holding each other and moving slowly. Swaying, almost.
Scar laid his head on Mumbos chest, „you’re good at slow dancing,“ The builder has already stepped on the taller man’s feet multiple times, having apologized for each. The redstoner always laughed quietly in response. „I’ve had much practice,“ „oh?“ „I used to do it a lot with Benjamin“ „who?“ „an old friend, from back then.“ „oh- is he-?“ Mumbo shook his head, „it’s fine,“ he said.
The hours passed, and they talked about random things quietly, Mumbo resting his chin on the smallers head.
Eventually, the raven haired man remembered something. „Hey,“ „mh?“ „are you awake enough yet?“
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welcometogrouchland · 2 months
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Babygirl I can concieve of stephcass dynamics you couldn't even imagine (arospec Cass not understanding why "probably bi but has a job so she doesn't have time to think about that" Steph apparently needs a man (she doesn't, it would just be nice) and doesn't want to platonically settle down with cass in their old age)
#ramblings of a lunatic#dc comics#stephcass#another sure to be no-notes banger#anyway I think steph and cass are both very. meh on labels#like i said Steph has a job (in my heart it's retail or like a fast food joint or something but in canon its just being batgirl/spoiler)#so she's not thinking about that rn#and cass was raised so outside of conventional society that she. technically understands why ppl want labels for things#but when you grow up in essentially a few rooms with just you and one other guy 90% of the time it just feels unnecessary in her heart#likewise she was raised so far from conventional romance and has such strong emotions about those she cares about#that she's just. not that interested in delineating romantic vs platonic feelings. She Likes You. Deal w/ it#steph on the other hand. oh boy steph#I'm not gonna say comphet I genuinely think she was deeply madly in love w/ tim and that's important to her character#but at the same time she's so. she's so#steph puts a lot of stock in her romantic relationships bc shes on a perpetual quest for connection and to be seen and appreciated#but. at the same time. she resents that part of her i think (at least early spoiler characterization does?-#-local girl desperately wants your approval and would rather be waterboarded than admit that to herself bc that's embarrassing)#so she's just kinda. acting like she's in it for the fun of it but that girl is searching for a soulmate#i genuinely think pre break-up she thought tim was the guy she was gonna marry. not consciously but if it were anyone it'd be him#and the whole ''married with kids'' thing IS something i think she wants. not every female character wants to be married/a mom#but Stephanie does imo#(also lets not even get into how much her breakup with tim SHOULD'VE effected her considering how it went down-#-and how that was never really gone into besides being hinted at in batgirls and kinda. dismissed in Tim's pride special-#-like on the one hand i get it bc of optics but on the other hands. he's really important to her! this should make her so much more upset!!#ahem. anyway#I'm not even the worlds biggest tim/stephanie guy i just think they're inch resting#and Cass. is close w/ Tim and Steph and should Get all of this since she's so adept at reading ppl#but like I said she's bad at categorizing platonic/romantic feelings in herself and doesn't totally Get it w/ steph#i should just write fic about this at this point these tags are too much
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mamawasatesttube · 26 days
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i miss timkon... tmr i should write something cute for them. its been like what, 3 weeks since i wrote anything cute about them?? i miss them... besties to lovers im coming for u...
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wellnoe · 8 months
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hello. excerpt of my jeanscott playlist in vaguely chronological order. biased toward their earlier years, by which i mean up til the twelve:
weird around you - eerie summer
sports - beach bunny
curses - the crane wives
smoke - moddi
diamond dave - the bird and the bee
if you were my love - stevie nicks
u make me sick - holychild
everything he needs - carly rae jepsen
til death - japanese breakfast
baby you're a haunted house - gerard way
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calenhads · 9 months
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bite the hand (1k, sabina/lachlan)
Sabina is sick with it, all the hatred in her heart. 
It simmers under her lungs, the ruddy glow of coals on a midnight fire, the trembling ashes of the Undying Hearth. It is quiet now; not sated, but no longer clamoring for her attention with all the fervor of a yipping dog at her heel. A small mercy granted only because she is too exhausted to feel anything at all beyond the time-worn cloth of her trousers under her hands. Sodden strands of hair stick to her forehead, teased by a cool breeze gentle as a lover’s kiss. Her face is flushed, she knows, because of the way Lachlan keeps stealing sidelong glances at her.
Though present, worry is not the only emotion to cross his night-dark eyes. She almost wants to scold him, scandalized. A spark lights among the ashes, glimmering and notably not exhausted. 
“Again,” she says instead, pushing herself to her full height. Not quite taller than him. Bile rises in her throat at the movement, and is swallowed back down. Sabina draws, rapier light in one hand and dagger lighter in the other. Lachlan’s face twists into an expression she does not recognize, and speaks in a voice that she does.
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. When did you even sleep last, Sa-“
“Again, damn you.”
Sabina hurtles towards her dearest friend, her lover if the world was kinder, with no small amount of tremulous energy. Lachlan raises his sword to meet her in a parry effortless enough to set that little spark into a flame. 
She gasps against the heat of it, and is surprised that her breath does not turn to steam in the cool air. Something within her bares its teeth, snapping at any errant hands. Come to stroke or to strike, they are bitten all the same. Arms straining, Lachlan shoves her back and away a handful of stumbling steps. 
“Sab, come on,” he pleads with wide eyes. His offhand is help up, palm facing her, placating. She has never resented anything more in her life. 
“I’m not done,” she snarls, more beast than woman. 
She lunges again, mad with grief and fury and denial as Lachlan diverts her flashing blades with his own. What a picture she must make, teeth bared and eye-whites flashing, stern brows furrowed even as her body trembles. A rabid animal in desperate need of the knife.
“You are,” he disagrees with the pleasant air of someone speaking to a particularly petulant child. “You really are.”
He’s not even trying anymore, not really. With each ragged breath her blows become sloppier, her responses slower. Lachlan is hardly sweating, only a single bead rolling down his impeccable brow. She likes that brow, normally. When it’s not condescending at her with only the tiniest of wrinkles to betray his pity. It always seemed heroic to her. Now it makes her want to claw and bite and scream until it is ruined. Until they are both ruined in their entirety. 
Sabina wants to take him to the grave. She wants to take him to bed. Are they not one and the same, in the end? She is surely making one of each for herself to lay in at the end of all this. Lachlan is merely providing the shovel. 
And perhaps company.
Something in her expression must change, because Lachlan’s guard drops and his expression softens. His brows untwist from the knot they tangled themselves in out of sheer worry. A mistake.
Barely registering the dull thud of her weapons against the sea-damp dirt, Sabina lurches forward with arms outstretched, and Lachlan steps forward to meet her. To catch her, if she’s interested in being honest with herself.
She’s sure she meant to kiss him, or bite him, or hit him, or any manner of things that are not the embrace she falls into instead. His arms, strong and covered only by the thin cotton of his undershirt, are warm around her. Unbearably warm, warring with the flame licking at her heart. Perhaps it is not rage that pulls at her, but longing. Or perhaps she is merely exhausted beyond all hope of understanding.
Either way, the beast quietens as she is restrained, as her body finally goes limp. She buries her face into his neck, breathing damp against his skin. 
“You’re burning up,” he whispers into her hair as one firm hand rises to cup the nape of her neck. “I was serious about the sleep thing. You’ve been up how long now?”
Sabina makes incoherent noises against his throat just to feel him shiver. 
He hums a question in response, a paper-thin attempt to stay focused that she can see right through. Above, she is certain his eyes have grown darker still.
“Too long,” she says, more clearly this time. Twenty-six hours and fourty-three minutes, she does not say. Her real answer would invoke even more misplaced, eyebrow-knotting concern than she wants to deal with at the moment. Not that she hasn’t ever been awake longer… but Lachlan would not like that argument either. Felix certainly hadn’t, at the time.
It’s no easy task to withdraw from his arms, but Sabina manages after a steadying breath. He still smells of woodsmoke from the fire, of the plain soap that her not-so-royal coffers can hardly afford. Sabina has no intentions of finding out what she smells like.
Upright again, she pats him once, abruptly, on the left side of his chest with a — weak, tired, wan — beatific smile. 
“I suppose it’s time for me to retire,” she says with a yawn, stretching her heavy arms above her head as if it will quell her rising nausea. “Join me if you will.”
Lachlan laughs, shaking his head in what can only be disbelief. Not rejection, not yet. Sabina’s eyes dart towards his.
“As your nursemaid, maybe. You’ll pass out the second you get horizontal. Maybe wake up in a state of feverish delirium hours from now,” comes his answer, along with a broad hand on her shoulder. Softer, he murmurs, “Go to sleep. I’ll send in Felix to watch over you.”
Unbothered, Sabina nods and the world wavers at the edges as she does. The moment has passed, and done so long ago. She retrieves her abandoned weapons from the soil, and goes to bed.
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championsofthegate · 4 months
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@nectaric asked: ❛   volumes .   gaze  at  my  muse  in  a  way  that  silently  says  ‘i love you’ . - hades to gale, doesn't have to be i love you but still !
Oh. Gale wasn't used to anyone looking at him like that. Not even Mystra had ever looked at him like that.
Annoyance, pity, occasional disdain, these were things he was used to. Maybe affection from Tara or his mother or sister. He didn't much think they had a choice, really.
But an affectionate gaze from someone outside his family? Affection bordering on love at that? It set his pulse quickening. If the orb hadn't been stabilized, he didn't know what would have happened. As it was, it pulsed in time with his heartbeat, causing his cheeks to flush.
Gods, what had he ever done to deserve this man?
"Are you sure you mean to look at me like that?" he couldn't help but ask, awkward smile plastered on his face. "Surely there must be someone else who deserves those affections more, no?"
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detective4blog · 1 year
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I wrote something. There's no plot and maybe no continuing this idk yet but </3
@fuzzysoulyt the lads,,,,
Mycroft stared at the man sitting so casually in his office, already feeling tired. After fretting about his brother for hours, now he has another little worrying nuisance waiting in his safe haven.
"I could hear your footsteps." The man called out, louder than necessary. Maybe he hadn't figured out the door was still open, which...gave no advantage since his presence was already known. "Might as well pop in and say hi."
He took a deep breath and entered the room, sitting in his comfortable desk chair. The cocky grin that appeared on the blonde assassin's face signaled that he was in a good mood.
Well. He always seemed to be in a good mood whenever casually breaking and entering into various places to be a pest.
"I suppose it's an improvement since you aren't brandishing your weaponry about." Mycroft spoke, crossing his arms on the desk. That brought a laugh from the other man, an eyebrow raising.
"Concealin' them this time. You could frisk me to find out." That grin grew wider, head tilting to the side playfully.
Mycroft blinked, brow furrowing. He couldn't tell if the man was acting as natural or putting a serious effort into seducing him. Or whatever it was the man wanted; he didn't understand him.
A neutral response seemed best. Encouraging this behavior would end in a possible headache. "Charming of you, Moran."
His eyes darkened, as they always did whenever being called by his last name. "C'mon now, I've told you to call me Sebastian. Or you could call me yours."
Mycroft was slightly caught off guard by that, shaking his head slightly. "Bold today, I see." He muttered, closing his eyes. "What brought you here?"
Sebastian was silent at that question; either thinking or not wanting to answer. Could be both if this was a 'work visit'. "Just wanted to see your handsome face, Myc."
The older frowned at the nickname but knew it was pointless to comment on it. "Has your employer sent you to attempt to get information through your affection? Because it will not work, I'm afraid." He didn't smell alcohol in the air, so Sebastian wasn't drunk doing this.
A small blessing, he supposed.
Now it was the other man's turn to frown, eyes rolling. "Hmph. Is it such an outlandish thing for me to simply be interested in you?"
Mycroft stared, trying to pick up on any sarcasm or underlaying motives. It was strange to see that Sebastian was being entirely sincere.
"Excuse me for the doubt, you're as crafty as Moriarty."
He didn't mean it as a compliment but the man took it that way, eyes lighting up with joy. It was oddly enjoyable to see a positive look in the assassin's eyes. Maybe because it meant he likely was here for some strange social call.
There was a bit of silence after that, though it had no suspense about it. Just silence and staring at each other, ready for one to make a hostile move and rebuke it. Mycroft had no interest in attempting any conflict with Sebastian; he knew the man's strength in length. The list of suspected and known crimes was quite vast after all.
Sebastian sat up suddenly, leaning forward in his chair. "I brought a gift, actually. Left it in your car." He realized how that sentence could come off right after saying it. "It's not a bomb. I'm not the man sent for bombings. Too many wires for my taste...and also too personal."
He was rambling, which was new. Mycroft tilted his head. Was the second most dangerous man in London nervous? How intriguing. He made a note about it, storing it under 'Moran knowledge I didn't quite need'.
"I see. I won't ask how you gained access to the vehicle-"
"-Jim has a copy of the key."
Mycroft stared, massaging the side of his temple. "When?"
"Sometime during those tense and awkward meetings you two had. Never quite got the details of that."
That was likely for the better.
"I expect you to stay to see how your gift is received." The older tilted his head, standing up. "Though it would not be a surprise if you left either." He started towards the door, undoing his jacket.
The wolf whistle from Sebastian at the action was ignored, though it made heat rise to his face. He didn't acknowledge it and continued on to check what was left for him.
Out of all the things he expected, an umbrella wasn't quite it. It seemed to be custom made, from the handle to the fabric and it's design. A blue see through umbrella that dipped down lower to shield his face better.
A kind gift, though a bit out of character for Sebastian. He returned to the office to give his thanks, and attempt to get the man to leave. He was still sitting, legs crossed casually and hands behind his head.
"I appreciate the effort you went through to obtain this. Though forgive me if I think it's bugged with trackers or worse."
Sebastian's brow furrowed, a barking laughing roaring out. "Couldn't be bugged if I wanted it to be. It isn't a regular ol' umbrella either, Myc. You really think I'd get such a boring gift for such a beautifully eccentric man like yourself?"
Mycroft raised a brow, looking over the gift again. There seemed to be an extra button on the handle but other than that, it wasn't special in any way. The younger seemed to notice his curiosity, getting up and leaning down, guiding his hand to the third button.
When it was pressed, the handle felt loose compared to the rest of the device. Carefully he slid it away, revealing a rapier underneath. One with a floral engraving towards the hilt that turned to vines crawling upwards.
He couldn't figure out what to say in response. He had a weapon concealed in an umbrella already, but this was...different. The other was for self defense and not many knew of it. Sebastian included. The process of how this gift idea came the man's mind was unknown.
"It's sharp as hell, so be careful with it. If it wasn't so large, could be used for shaving." He seemed to think over his last sentence and a new idea came to mind.
"Providing someone who is not an ally with a weapon is perhaps your most interesting action thus far."
"At least it makes flirting less strange."
Sebastian was still leaned down slightly and rather close. His hand was still slightly holding Mycroft's. He hadn't noticed, distracted by the blade. Sliding the cover back into place and relieved to hear a click when it was put in place, he leaned it against the desk for now.
"I don't understand you sometimes, Sebastian." He murmured, retracting his hand to clasp it under his chin. The slip of his name made the assassin brighten like a sun.
"I could always help with that. For example, I think you'd look quite gorgeous in dark greens." Sebastian's accent was thickened with joy, catching Mycroft's attention.
His eyes darkened when being called by his last name, his accent became thicker with strong emotions, and he rambled when nervous. All things noted about the assassin that he didn't quite need to know.
"That doesn't quite aid me, but...thank you." Understanding Sebastian Moran wasn't a priority right now...and frankly, he believed that there was too much to begin to understand.
The man laughed, taking a step back. "I've overstayed my welcome. See you again soon, gorgeous."
Mycroft raised a brow at the nickname. "Do you call all government officials 'gorgeous' or am I a special case?" He asked as an attempt of a joke.
"Oh, you're a special cast. None of the other bastards are quite as enjoyable as you. Or, yaknow, gorgeous." Sebastian replied with a grin and a wink before heading out the door. The older watched him go, straining to hear the method of exit.
This time it was the front door. Bold, but not a surprise. It was Sebastian Moran after all.
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ffcrazy15 · 1 year
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Summary: After the conclusion of their battle with the Texas-class, Mariner and Boimler have a chat about her relationship with Starfleet.
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why cant i get paid to think of domestic arakawa family things huh. id be SO rich if that were a thing
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stuffedeggplants · 2 years
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Part of a Top Gun: Maverick missing scene between Maverick, Bob, and Phoenix at the hospital after the bird strike.
“But beyond that… The decision to eject— it’s a choice you make before you climb into the cockpit, before you even step out onto the flight line.”
Maverick sat up a little straighter as he finished. He looked from Bob to Phoenix, from one hospital bed to the other.
“How much does a Rhino cost?” he asked.
The Rhino was the Super Hornet’s nickname, but Phoenix blinked at the seeming non-sequitur.
“Somewhere north of 50 million per airframe,” Maverick said. “But the Navy can replace it, and they can train up another pilot and another WSO to drive it around… Whether you’re an Athenian sailor two thousand years ago or a maintainer fixing up helos in Bagram just two years ago— it all works the same. That you can take someone else and train them to do the exact same thing, fill the exact same role, is what the system is predicated on.”
He knit his hands together, silent for a moment. The footsteps of passing staff and the beeps of distant medical devices would’ve filled in the quiet, but Phoenix couldn’t hear them anymore. There was just Bob beside her and Maverick in the visitor’s chair, tension in his hands and something gnawing at the corner of his jaw.
“But no matter who else they find to do your jobs, what you two bring to your squadrons—to this detachment—is not something that can be replaced,” Maverick went on, his voice quieter but no less earnest. “You'll have different pilots, different back-seaters over the course of your careers… None of them are going to be exactly like anybody else, just like what you two have as Bob and Phoenix isn't something you'll find a copy of with anyone else."
His eyes briefly drifted towards the floor. When he nodded, Phoenix thought it might've been more to himself than anything, but the moment passed as quickly as it had come.
“When you ejected out there earlier, you had already made the decision that you would prioritize the life of a teammate over something that can be replaced," Maverick said, eyes steady on both of them. “'Mission first' doesn't happen without people, and there was no saving that jet. I want to make sure you know that there isn’t an aviator out there who'll say that you were in the wrong for what happened today."
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dungeonbf · 9 months
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an-acc, my s/i, and anti-centrism angst lives in my head … maybe pre-relationship insecurity, like an-acc noticing anti-centrism being affectionate with another ideology and spiraling
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fiyasgideon · 1 year
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I have a question :) what are your favorite and least favorite madatobi tropes?
Oh boy. This one is so hard to answer because there's so many.
First off, I'm a sucker for soulmate aus. Always. Doesn't matter what kind. I CONSUME soulmate fics like nobody's business.
But madatobi specific tropes I can't get enough of? Those ones where the Uchiha get Tobirama (either through kidnapping, finding him hurt, a contract where they need to host him, whatever) and they slowly realize that he's not the demon everyone says he is. Tobirama is just vibing and doing his thing while ignoring the initial hate (probably not even realizing the hate is changing) and Madara is falling for him. Hard.
The trope I hate the most? Hmm. That's hard. I don't know if this is considered a trope, but basically any AU that has a dystopian setting, especially when it comes to the government, I can't handle. Any of the other things I usually have problems with I can sometimes make an exception for, or I have conditions that if met I can look past (hurt/no comfort, whump, cheating, sex working), but settings where the government controls everything and the protagonists are meant to fight it are almost 100% a no from me.
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dyketubbo · 2 years
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YEAH. I KNOW THEYRE GONE BUT THAT DOESNT MEAN I CANT STOP FUCKING THINKING ABOUT THEM
every day i think of a new cbeeduo scenario or find a new song to think of cbeeduo to or remember a cbeeduo scene from when they interacted constantly and its like pulling muscles. like
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