Archive | December 3, 2011

…Haven’t You People Ever Heard of Closing the God-Damned Door… A story of #Addergoole, non-canon

Rix and I were talking about family trees, and how Mike VanderLinden ends up twice on a standard family tree program, and that led to how Mike should clone itself. This is what resulted. (The lyrics were Rix’s idea; googling them got me to Panic! At the Disco, hence the title)

Mike and Manira are both Addergoole characters. Short version: Mike is a succubus, a Daeva, a bloodline of gender-fluid fae. So’s Manira, but due to Plot, she is stuck in the body of a half-breed teenaged student.

Last night, can’t remember.
What happened? Where’d we go?
I woke up this morning.
Where’s my car? Where’s my keys? Where’s my clothes?
I feel my head still spinning but I’m doing alright
Cause I think I just had the best night of my life.
Last night, can’t remember.
What happened? Did it happen? Last night
~“Last Night,” Good Charlotte

Mike woke with a mouth full of cotton and a feeling in his head like something had been rearranged. No – her head. She looked down at herself, wondering what the feeling like… oh.

She rolled over in the bed – not her bed. Her bed was softer, and generally darker. The succubus Manira smirked back at her, licking her lips as if devouring a tasty secret.

“How’re you feeling, lover?” the girl purred.

“I… ill,” Mike admitted. How had she ended up here? For that matter, where was here? And what did Manira know that she didn’t? “Where are my clothes?”

“Tch, never did figure that out, did you, pretty? I’ll get your clothes when I’m damn good and ready to.”

“Is that any way to talk to your Mentor?” Mike complained.

“Is that any way to talk to the only one in the room who knows what you did last night? Or you could go back on your high horse, little girl… and in nine months you can admit you don’t know who should Name it.”

“Name… Manira!”

“Not me, pretty thing, I’m still stuck in this body. No cock.” She made a rude gesture. “What’ll it be, Professor Prettypants?”

Mike sighed, wondering how she seemed to end up with this strange girl grabbing her by the short ones. “What can I do for you, Manira?” And who knocked me up?

“That’s a good professor,” the girl cooed. “Now come here and kiss me properly.”

An exhausting, hot, sweaty two hours later, Mike lay back on the bed, parts of her throbbing that hadn’t felt want like this in centuries. Manira had a way of making everything feel just a little dirty, just a little wrong, and she ate it up, devoured it in a way that managed to make Mike feel like less of an incubus by comparison.

She was patting Mike’s tit now, making the Daeva ache with a new surge of need. “I knew you could e a sweet ride if you were properly convinced. And I won’t do it again, Professor, but I wanted to taste you properly motivated.”

“Unh.” She wasn’t sure she could manage more than that. “Baby?” Oh, yes. The reason she’d ended up like this.

“I’m really surprised you can’t remember at all… that drink must have been better than I was told. You students really are quite impressive pharmacologists, Mikey.”

“Baby?” she insisted. Drugged. Oh, good. She really had to have a talk with Luke and Regine about that.

“Silly girl. You’re the father.”


“Mother, too. I’m sure Regine will be thrilled.” She patted Mike’s stomach. “Be careful with the little peanut. It took a bit of bending to get it in there.”

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(Aunt) Ruan, for an Icon

Ruan, in her lab, holding a pair of tongs (in the conservatory with the candlestick?)

Hair is like the bob on the left, red.

What we can see of her dress is something like this on the left, though I think she prefers colors to neutrals.

She is wearing over the dress, however, an apron. Must be tidy.

And, of course,

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