Backstory: Actually, the following are ones I made up off the top of my head that have no actual stories behind them, and were spur-of-the-moment things. Or they were just based off a friend's idea, and thus fanfiction of her fanfiction. (i'm aware that sounds strange XD ) But I will try to give a brief background to each bit.
The first is one I based off a picture I saw of Minnie as an angel playing a sea-like harp.
There was definitely going to be a bump on Mickey's head. He reached up, and rubbed between his large ears... oh yes, it was already forming. Another sore addition to this already disastrous day. He tried to sit up, his clothes entirely soaked in sea water. For a moment, he shut his eyes, trying to gather his senses, before opening them wide to let it sink in what happened. He'd done a trip Goofy would have proud of, and had fallen from the beach onto this sea bank.
He was lost. No Goofy, no Pluto, no anybody, in sight, or could even be heard. He was sitting on the sand, with the ocean water spilling towards him, and just as easily retreating. Climbing up for now wasn't an option, but he couldn't just sit and do nothing. With a grunt, he forced himself onto his feet, feeling his sandals squish underneath him. Thus he started his journey, walking near the rocks, hoping to stay away from the water as much as he could.
Time passed slowly, as the surroundings didn't change, no matter how many steps he took. The same rocks, the same sand, the same ground wall, the same water... but at the very least, the water had a soothing sound to it. The simple little crashes were nearly melodic. He found he could distract himself from the pain on his head if he paid attention to those sounds. The waves had their own rhythm, and it wasn't long before he found himself humming to nature's song. Lyrics were even quicker to come to mind.
Only when he found gigantic black rocks, perhaps a head taller than Goofy's size, did it dawn on him that those lyrics, melody, and the song itself wasn't the ocean - someone actually was singing to the tune of the ocean. Forgoing the quest to return to his friends, he began to navigate himself through the large sharp rocks, now determined to find the source of the song. It was a female voice, no doubt, but the words themselves were a language he had never heard before. He couldn't even pinpoint an accent to go along with the voice, nor a country of origin, as if this was a newly discovered tongue. Despite unable to locate words to it, he felt as if he felt the message of the song... a simple little serenity, a soft sweetness, harmony of the water, an angelic praise of the ocean.
He found her.
A beautiful mouse maiden was sitting comfortably in the wet sand, fingers delicately plucking the largest harp he had ever seen in his life. The harp was lavishly decorated in jewelry and sea life - conches, sand dollars, intricate symbols of moons and flowers. The girl herself was much the same, sporting pink pearls around her ears, that linked to a necklace, that linked to a sea-foam green dress, little sandals much cleaner than his own wrapped around tiny feet. From her back jutted two white wings, flapping quietly in tune to the song. The harp didn't play music, not traditional music, as each string echoed the sound of a wave hitting the land, or of rolling contently far out in the ocean.
Mickey stood there, all of his senses awestruck. His friends? That bump? Nonexistent. There was nothing else of importance but this little angel, playing her song. He wanted nothing but for this moment to last eternal, to just watch this grace, to relish in the concert just for him.
His body, however, didn't agree. The water was chilly today, and a hard shiver ran through his body, shooting straight to his nose, and before he could grasp any sort of control over himself -
"Ah - choo!"
The female froze in place, and crystal blue eyes shot open, staring right at him. The waves continued to move, but now they moved with silence. After a moment, she curled up, gripping the harp, appearing a tad frightened, but more confused overall. Her wings outstretched, in a pitiful attempt to hide her.
Mickey rubbed his nose, trying to figure out what was the right thing to say to... to whatever she was. "Hiya." He managed, which, while not perfect, was certainly a start. "I didn't mean to surprise ya... I was just listenin', and, uh, well..." An adequate compliment for her music seemed out of reach.
She didn't give him the time, finally speaking, in clear English. "You really can see me?"
He blinked a few times at such a question. "Yeah?" How could he not? And such a pretty sight she was.
She bit her lower lip, contemplative, and then released her instrument. Standing up, she walked right towards him - then around him, walking in a circle, trying to look at him from all angles, inspecting him with great detail. Mickey suddenly felt terribly under-dressed, with his shorts and Hawaiian T-shirt, compared to her luxurious gown. Had he known he was going to be in close contact with such a pretty girl, he would have dressed better - though if someone earlier had told him the girl would have wings and play a harp of the ocean, he would have probably called them a loony.
"Strange." She spoke again, though it was more to herself, standing in front of him. "You're an ordinary mortal, aren't you?"
... As opposed to what, exactly? He raised his eyebrows, deeply puzzled. Maybe the bump on his head was hallucinating this entire thing. But he had to hand it to his imagination, he didn't know he was capable of dreaming up such a beauty. "Sure, why not." He shrugged, deciding if this was his dream, he could say and do as he pleased. Surely Goofy and Pluto would find his knocked out body in mere moments, hearing him deliriously babble about being with a sea goddess.
It didn't appear to be the right answer, as her frown deepened. "This is a serious matter. This shouldn't be happening."
Another shrug. "Why not?"
"... It just shouldn't." Now she was reluctant to share information, or just in a panic. She turned back around, fingers fidgeting with each other. "Not yet, but... It's happened before, but... but well! It's not supposed to be like this, it's so early... "
"Are you okay?" he reached out to touch her shoulder, and she glanced back at him. He stopped himself, staring at her deep eyes, and felt his cheeks flush, a hot red in comparison.
She swallowed, and then, gracefully, took his hand with both of hers. She was cold to the touch - but it was comforting, as if you were floating on the water on a lazy day. Her fingers intertwined with his - he could feel himself smiling, and couldn't stop, no matter how stupid he knew he must have been looking.
"... E-early or not..." She stammered, trying to gain confidence in what she must do. "...It has happened, and we must follow the destined path.
"Sure." He quipped. Whatever she meant. Goofy and Pluto could certainly take their time in waking Mickey up, he rather liked where this was going.
She closed her eyes, with a blush appearing on her own cheeks, the color of the sun setting on the ocean when the day was finishing. "I am a Muse of the Sea, Minerva." There was a speech-like quality to the words, as though she had rehearsed for this day. "May inspiration be bestowed upon thee." Her hands clasped his tightly, she drew a breath, leaned up on her feet, and pressed her lips upon his.
If Goofy and Pluto woke him up now, Mickey would kill 'em.
I thought 'what if Mickey was a genie' and this came up.
The explosion of light and sound was over as quickly as it had begun. The blue smoke settled, and began to dissipate, and the only evidence that something had happened was now the small mouse boy standing where the lights had shone. He was dressed in colorful garbs, clearly foreign, and after he dusted down his wear and adjusted his large jeweled turban, he began to do stretching exercises. Raising his arms, moving his legs, he spoke out loud, in a tongue that was ancient and not able to be understood by the four females right away.
Minnie, still sitting in her surprised position, still with the lamp in her lap, still with those old tears of fear on her face, now wore the same expression of sheer 'stun' as her chasers. It was one of those rare times when they had something in common. 'Oh, goodness'. She thought, distressed. 'I've finally lost my mind. That won't do at all.'
The mouse seemed to be satisfied with his exercises, as he stopped, and looked at the rich girls, speaking rapidly in those strange words. An odd silence followed, as blonde looked to brunette looked to duck. The brunette, second in command, spoke quietly, more to Daisy than the boy. "I... I think that's Arabic."
Daisy raised her eyebrows. "Do you speak any?"
"A... a little." Second looked between the boy and Daisy, back and forth. "I think he's asking... asking about who touched his... lamp."
Instantly, blonde and Daisy pointed to Minnie, with brunette following suit. Minnie gave a tiny yelp in surprise, and the boy turned around to look at her. His eyes fell on the lamp, and a charming smile graced his lips. He casually walked up to her, perhaps oblivious or ignoring all the confusion he was causing, and leaned down near her, speaking once more in words Minnie couldn't translate.
Brunette gave it a shot. "He's asking if you touched the lamp."
Though shocked out of her mind, Minnie was an avid teller of the truth. So she nodded, slowly, holding up the lamp in her hands. The boy looked her over, carefully, and his once princely smile now turned into something devious. He placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head upwards slightly, again speaking, his tone quite intrigued and delighted.
"W-what's he saying?" Minnie squeaked, his cheeks turning cotton candy pink.
By now, blonde and Daisy felt as if they weren't even in reality, instead watching some bizarre movie take place, watching Brunette translate, then looking back to Minnie to see the affects, and back and forth. This time, Brunette was a bit flabbergasted. "Oh, wow, uh..."
"What did he say!" shouted Daisy, blonde, and Minnie, with the boy, affectionately rubbing his finger under Minnie's chin.
"... He... um... he said... he's never had... such a cute mistress before."
As if on cue, the next thing Minnie knew, the boy was on top of her, arms wrapped snugly around her, his lips pressed lovingly against her neck. Her entire face would have put the first prize tomato at the country fair to shame, such a red she was. Her mouth was open, but she was too startled to make any sounds come out - which was just fine, as Daisy and her blond companion were doing plenty of shrieking for her. The boy murmured sweet nothings as he kissed her, and judging by the way the brunette was clutching her hair, they were things better left 'not said'. Minnie shook, more bewildered than actually afraid, and struggling to speak. Just what was he saying? Who was he? Why was he doing this? WHAT WAS GOING ON?
"I... I..." She screwed her eyes shut, desperately pleading, just to get it out of her system. "I wish I knew what you were saying!"
The lamp sputtered and spat that blue smoke again, and for a few bright seconds, the boy glowed the same color. Noticing he was being affected, the boy finally pulled himself back, sitting comfortably next to Minnie, shaking his head in slight discomfort. The smoke and lights ended within seconds, and the boy clicked his tongues several times before talking - now in clear, perfect English. "Oh, well, that does make things easier." A tiny shrug, and then he took Minnie's hand, tracing the outlines of her palm. "Now, where were we?"
"Who are you?" she yelled, trying to pull her hand back.
He blinked, and then back to stand. "Why, shucks, where are my manners?" Making a sweeping bow, the jewel on his turban seemed to shine brighter than before."You have summoned the genie of the lamp, Michael Mouse, to your ever eternal command, my mistress. Until the lamp exchanges hands, I am your obedient servant." He offered her his hand to stand. "And your name?"
'Oh goodness'. Minnie had gone bonkers, bananas, she'd lost her mind, lost her head, she was going to be shipped to the insane asylum, to the nuthouse... and to think, her deeper subconscious could dream up a handsome boy who wanted to make amorous advances on her immediately. Minnie had no idea that she was so deeply perverted. Assuming by now that in reality she was being bound in a white jacket, she took his hand, using her other hand to hold the lamp, and slowly began to get back on her high heeled feet."M-Minnie. My name is Minnie."
Wrong move - he pulled her in close, then dipped her, grinning mischievously all the while. "My Mistress Minnie. Rather like the sound of that."
"I-I'm not your mistress!" she shrunk a little under his piercing gaze. "I'm just a high school student!"
"You rubbed my lamp, didn't you?"
"I fell on it!"
"Close enough."
"I don't even know you!"
"We'll get to know each other. I like what I know already."
'Goodness goodness goodness', like an endless mantra in her head - at the rate of all the blood going to her head just to blush, she was positive she was going to pass out soon, and his hand now playing with her tail was just making matters worse.
"We're in public!" She cried, and he blinked again, then lifted his head to the rich girls, whose jaws were dropped in shock.
"Huh. Right. Forgot about them." And was just fine with forgetting them again, if the hand going up Minnie's leg and skirt was any indication.
"Wait just one second." Daisy snapped her fingers, eyes narrowed, as something to brew in her mind. "Are you a real genie? As in... a granting wishes genie?"
"Never heard of a genie who didn't grant wishes." Michael replied, slightly indignant. Minnie, who saw the girls as upside-down, recognized the look in Daisy's eyes, despite the awkward angle - that was her sign of greed.
The duck rubbed her hands together, malicious in her voice. "So if I got my hands on your lamp..."
Blond giggled, catching the idea, supportability patting Daisy's shoulder. "Just think of what we could have! The latest clothes and shoes! All the cute boys groveling at our feet! We'd be set for life!"
Brunette was not entirely as keen on the idea, grimacing, stepping behind Daisy. "Does that mean we'd have him groping us all the time?"
"I could stand a little touchy feely stuff if I can be rich forever!" Daisy was almost cackling, lost in the future of possibilities. "We've got to get that lamp!"
Michael tsked, looking down at Minnie. "I'd suggest making a wish now. I'd rather be yours than theirs."
The girls were already running towards the mice, and Minnie said the first thing that came to mind - "I wish I was home!" She closed her eyes, and when she opened them - she was in her room, the same worn out cotton mattress beneath her, the same tattered walls surrounding her, the same smell of old decaying paint filtering the air... it was if she had never left for school that morning.
Except she was quite certain that morning, she didn't have a boy snuggled happily into her lap. "Good wish." he murmured, arms around he waist, and was soon enough flickering her tail in his fingers again.
She looked down at him, trying to let all of that past hour sink in properly to her mind. "You're a genie." She repeated flatly.
"Yup."
"Does this mean I only have one wish left?"
"Nah. That's just a rumor we spread to get some peace. I'll grant you whatever you want, whenever you want."
"... Do you do this to all girls who rub your lamp?"
"Come now, mistress, have you never heard of love at first sight?" he gave an appreciative kiss to her skirt, causing Minnie to speculate he meant a certain other 'L' word.
"What was your lamp doing in a box of school play props?" It wasn't easy to ask these questions and ignore his advances the same time, but she made the effort.
"My last master enjoyed plays. I guess he got my lamp mixed up somehow." He picked up one of her legs, and began kissing it the way down. "Good... for... me."
Minnie groaned quietly, rubbing her temples. This was going to be a very long school year.
This was actually requested by a friend - again, the theme genie mickey, so I went with a new angle.
It had been one week since the sultan had discovered the genie, and it began to show. Every day, a new wing was added onto the palace, more rooms became stuffed with treasure, and the sultan's greed only became stronger. The taxes to his people stayed the same, however, for his wicked ways had not taken a single dent. The people struggled to adjust to his new flow of power, and did their best to stay away from the palace. Those who lived in the palace found no refuge to their suffering, save for when the glutton slept.
During one such long and lazy nap, the genie willingly left his lamp, and quietly tip-toed out of his master's bedroom. Once the doors were closed and behind him, he exhaled deeply. He was exhausted! All of those wishes were draining him! He had plenty of selfish owners in the past, but this one was slowly taking the cake... and then wishing for more cake. If the genie wanted to enjoy his break, he'd better get started on what he wanted to do right away.
Fortunately, he had only one goal in mind, and he knew exactly where she would be. He ran down intricate hallways, zig-zagging through new kitchens and dancing rooms, and slid through a room dedicated entirely to gold, until he found himself in the palace gardens. That too had gone through some drastic changes - many of the flowers had become jeweled, no longer living things but mere ornaments. Statues were littered about, putting the sultan in fabulous poses of grandeur. The most important thing about the gardens, for him at least, had not changed. That was the humble little gardener.
The sultan had prided himself on having plenty of slaves to do every move that he himself was too lazy for. The gardener was the smallest, a quiet little mouse girl who the genie had slowly learned was nicknamed Minnie. She was always graceful and kind, despite the abuse she could endure under the sultan's hands. Yet right now, her usual face of smiles was upset, as she knelt before what used to be roses, and were now just rose-shaped rubies. She sighed sadly, letting her fingers delicately touch the hardened petals.
The genie smoothed down his clothes, made sure the feather in his turban was straight, practiced a few lines in his head, and then, stepped forward, clearing his throat. Minnie gasped, and turned around, her eyes moving around quickly, but the genie held up a hand. "Easy, easy... I'm alone."
That appeared to relax her, as her shoulders lowered. "Oh... I'm sorry, Genie Michael."
Waving a dismissive hand, he walked closer to her. "Mickey's fine. What's with the sad face?"
Eyes cast downward. "I... it's nothing. Don't let me bother you."
He knelled down next to her, wanting to stop smiling. How did she not know how generous she was, how incredibly angelic she was? Perhaps these views were biased in his own eyes, tainted with the prejudice of love. "It's the flowers, huh?" When she nodded, he continued. "I'm real sorry... I didn't wanna have to do that to 'em."
"It's not your fault." She lifted her heart, and his heart nearly stopped as he looked into her eyes. "And some of them are still alive... I just hope it stays that way. If there aren't any flowers to take care of... I don't have work to do. I won't be able to stay here." Hands folded on top of her lap. "This is my only home."
"I'll talk to him. Even he's got to have some sense lodged up in all a' that fat."
Her eyes widened at such impudence, but she bit her lip, to keep from giggling. It was music to his big ears... so far, so good. Maybe now it would be a good time to suggest his plan. Swallowing, he scooted in slightly closer, trying to be brave for her. "Ya know... things... don't have to be this way. Things can change."
Her amusement was now confusion, head tilted as she tried to understand him. "What do you mean?"
"I could undo all of this." A gesture to the garden. "I could make things peaceful... I could make you happy. I... I want to make you happy." Rehearsing these lines in his head was much easier than actually saying them out loud, he discovered, as his voice became shaky, and cheeks flushed.
Yet she was still puzzled, studying him. "What are you saying?"
Suddenly, his hands seized hers, holding them with a gentle strength. "Take my lamp. Be my mistress."
Now there was realization, and acting on sheer instinct, she tried to pull her hands back, but his grip was relentless. "What!"
"I've got his entire schedule down." Mickey spoke rapidly, so there was less chance for interruption. "I know when you can take it, there would be plenty of time, all you have to do is-"
"I can't!" Though she struggled, he refused to let go. "I could never!"
"You can!" He had expected initial resistance, but not so deep and heavy as this. "Please, Minnie, think of what I can do for you! I could give you all the flowers in the world... I can give you riches beyond your wildest dreams! I can make you princess!"
Finally breaking free, she jumped to her feet, backing off and turning away, holding herself. Her body trembled, with fear, fear of those great temptations, of a selfishness that lingered beneath the surface, of a possibility of turning into that horrid sultan. Her eyes closed, trying to hold back tears. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. "I could never defy the sultan..."
Mickey rose to his feet, walking towards her yet again. "Please... I don't want to belong to him. I want to be yours, I want to belong to you, I want you to own me-"
"I don't want to own anyone!" Her fingers dug into her arms, nearly bending over in her pain. Being a slave herself, how could she inflict that on another? The degradation, turning a person into little more than an object, who was she to give all the pain she had lived through and give it to another? But for all these objections, they only served to endear her further to the genie's heart. She did not fight it when his arms came around from behind her, putting her in a warm embrace. The tears won out, dribbling down her cheeks. "I'm... sorry."
He kissed her hair, and then laid his head upon her shoulder. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to accept happily, then they would devise a plan to get the lamp, and seal the deal with a long kiss. Now it was all he could do to keep himself from sinking to his knees and begging her to have him. All his life, he was bound to be a servant, and to be rejected by the only person he actually wanted to obey, he did not know what to do. The two silently stood there, in the garden of stone and jewel, lost in their own desires and the sorrow of being unable to fulfill them.
Her hands found his, and now they were the ones to hold tightly, pressed to her heart. Maybe if she pressed hard enough, long enough, an imprint of his hands would remain on her heart, so she would never forget him. When words came to Mickey once again, Minnie was almost sure she had imagined it, as the speech was so audacious that they could not be believed at first.
"I love you."
When her mind confirmed that it was reality, she tried to look at him, and he pulled back. She turned to face him, and though he smiled, it was bitter, pained, forced. His gloved fingers brushed aside her stray tears, taking a lingering moment in a lock of hair. Hundreds of questions raged within her, mostly with how he could say such a thing, how he could mean such a thing, considering the short time they had known one another. Yet there was no question regarding if he meant, for those eyes were not that of a liar. Inside those eyes,a love so pure and desperate that it threatened to tear him apart.
Weakly, she lifted her forefinger to touch his closed lips... and instantly, he was gone, his form evaporating in a swirl of blue dust, leaving no sign that he was ever there at all. It was a sign that his master had awakened, and had summoned him back to command more wishes. Emotional toll taken, she collapsed to her knees, burying her face in her hands, weeping for herself, for him, for everything that could and could not be between them. It would take her far longer to notice that, soon, many of the enchanted flowers would be returned to their normal form.
Just listened to my Ipod and wrote down what came to mind hearing a song. This song was Tom Nook's Store - Animal Crossing Wild World - Super Smash Brothers Brawl OST.
Thwack!It happened again. With a false air of calm, Donald slowly turned his head back, glaring daggers at his nephews, who shined a doe-like innocence with their wide eyes and held hands. He'd never been fooled, and he wasn't going to start now. "Knock it off."
"Knock what off, Unca Donald?" Huey whistled, twiddling his thumbs. He? Throw a paper ball? Never! Inconceivable!
The uncle wagged a finger at the boys. "You know what. I'm trying to get ready for my date with Daisy, and if you brats keep distracting me, three rear ends are going to be very sore, very soon."
"Can we at least not have a babysitter this time?" That was Dewey, crossing his arms, willing to knock off the act for a negotiation. "We can take care of ourselves!"
Bowtie, check. "I already called, Goofy's on his way over." Dash of cologne, check. "And no fires this time."
The boys looked at each other, nodded, and decided to take the risk. Thwack!
Outside of the home, Daisy stopped just before her finger could touch the doorbell, upon hearing the far-too-familiar 'WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!'. Oh, dear. She'd better come back later.
The same as above, this time the Ipod landed on Scandelous by Mis-Teeq.
Minnie squeaked, her fingers gripping the black lifeline, and glancing upward. No movement. This wasn't good. She waited for a moment, and then tapped the device on her hip. "Daisy? We have a problem."
Her friend's voice easily came through. "What is it? We went over this a hundred times - slink down the line, cut open the glass, put the glass on the floor, pick up the diamond, replace it with the rock, replace the glass, then climb back up the line. What are you not getting here?"
There was a hesitant pause. "...The line's stuck."
"... Stuck."
"Do you really think I'd be making that up right now?" A wriggle, a squirm, but nothing. "It won't go down any further! What do we do now?"
"Of all the... hold on." The voice was gone, as Minnie hoped that Daisy was settling the problem. They didn't have enough time as is. She sighed in exhaustion... then held her breath - footsteps! Now? But the guards, they had their schedule memorized!
What walked into the room, however, was not a guard. It was a mouse, possibly around Minnie's own age, wearing a long brown trench coat, humming a soft tune as he approached the diamond display case. Minnie was still in the air, and silently prayed he did not look up, whoever this guy was. The man approached the diamonds, then gave a chipper smile. "Hear that those BowGirls are after ya, but don't ya worry." He jabbed a thumb to his chest. "I'm the best private detective around... well, I'm going to be. And I'll crack their case before they even lay an eye on you."
Goodness, he was adorable. Minnie found herself smiling, enjoying what she could see of his cute face, and noted that, in a different time and place, she could find herself falling for him.
SNAP!
The line broke - and Minnie was falling on him.
Based off a friend's idea where Mickey is a popular actor, Minnie is a homely looking assistant dating Mortimer.
Right then and there, he learned there was a difference between 'being with' a woman, and 'dealing with' a woman. Dumbfounded, he stared down at the sobbing wreck, as she wailed into her hands, crumpled up against her desk. He doubted he was the reason for this ordeal, but when he had come to check on her after her less-than-stellar performance around the studio, she burst into tears the second he entered the room. Hoping he made the right decision in coming, he approached her, trying to find words in between gasps of air she made. At a loss, he cleared his throat. "Hey, um... you okay?" Stupid question, but it was an effort.
She didn't wholly respond at first, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes hard. Holding herself, she took several deep breaths in an effort to collect herself. "I-I'm sorry..." She stammered, not facing him. "I-I'll get the coffee and s-scripts in a minute, I-I just..."
Is that what she thought he was there for? Ignoring the slight twinge of guilt, he touched her shoulder, trying to make her look at him. "Forget that. I wanna know what's got ya so upset."
Slowly, her face met his. Even with red eyes and stained cheeks, there was still that beauty in her expression, and it broke his heart to see it distorted into such sadness. She was obviously hesitant in explaining just what had disturbed her so, but after a heavy sigh, there was relent. "I-It's... well... m-my boyfriend, he..." Apparently, even speaking of the subject was too much for her to bare, as her mouth wibbled, and she exploded into sobs once more. Before he could get any control over the situation, she had buried her face into his chest, dirtying his expensive clothes with tears and snot. Suffice to say, he had not prepared for this outcome.
Perhaps it was karma, he thought, for all the times he wanted her against his body, and, well, he'd gotten that wish now, hadn't he! Remarking among how fate had a bitter sense of humor, and putting aside the urge to do a great bodily harm to her boyfriend, he managed to put his arms around her, letting her cry all she pleased. "All right, let it all out." He murmured, wondering if she could even hear him. "I'm not going anywhere." Not for anything in the world would he leave her, though he was sure he was hearing footsteps from behind.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he could see the agitated director heading right for the room. No doubt he was very annoyed with Minnie's behavior, or was ready to demand Mickey back on the set. Taking care to make sure she didn't see, he lifted his left foot, then kicked backwards, closing the door behind the both of them. After it slammed, he put his foot back down, and pulled one hand back, reaching behind him to click the door shut in its lock. The movie could be delayed for a few hours, there were more important things at hand. One of them happened to be convincing this pretty girl that there were better men out there - in there, in front of her.
Based off the theme of 'lifting up (princess style)' from a meme.
As she began to wake up, the headache was the first thing noticed. It wasn't too bad, but it was enough to be irritating, and she lifted a hand to touch her head and inspect for any bump, eyes still shut. She was still trying to recollect just how she had gotten inured and for how long she was knocked out, when she noticed the second thing. The second thing was that someone was holding her. Her eyes opened instantly upon this realization, her hand dropping. She looked up to see who exactly was carrying her, feeling her legs dangle in the air.
She didn't quite know who or what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this cute boy with a soft face, looking down at her with the warmest attention she had ever received. He was wearing a clean white suit, with blue lines running downwards along with a few golden attachments. atop his head was a silver crown, with at least five different colored jewels adoring it. He was walking down a stoned paveway, with red roses blooming all around them. Seeing that she had woken up, he smiled at her, though didn't stop walking. "So, Sleeping Beauty woke up. Are ya in any pain?"
She was aware her mouth was open, but no words would come out. This was a dream, it just had to be, and it was the best dream she ever had. Knowing she had to look just silly with her mouth like that, she shook her head, trying to make words form. "I... um... I'm fine!" The headache was sudden very insignificant. "Thank you..."
He stopped walking, having apparently reached his destination. "Glad to hear it." His arms shifted, and she was then placed on a small wooden chair, atop a red cushion, and in front of her was a tiny table, lined with tea and fancy-looking sweets. He poured himself a cup, and then sat down across from her in a chair of the exact same fashion, one leg relaxing over the other. "I was thinking it'd be nice to have a guest, and here ya are."
"Here I am." She repeated, not knowing what else to reply. Racking her brain, she still didn't have the faintest idea of how she arrived here... wherever here was... or who this boy was. Slowly taking a cup of tea herself, she drank - it was very sweet, laced with milk and honey. Though she could hear the faint tweets of birds, there were none in the sky, none to be seen all around. It was as if this world only consisted of these two in this rose garden. "Thanks for helping me."
He finished his cup, and set it down. "Don't worry about it. Is everything to your liking?"
Glancing at the tea, she nodded. "It's really, and, um... this place is so beautiful." A nervous smile came, and she was sure her cheeks were crimson. Had a boy ever looked at her the way he was? Unable to meet his eyes, she looked into her cup, feeling her heart race. "I just wish I knew of some way to repay you."
A chuckle from him, and he rose out of his seat just as quickly as he had gotten in it. At her side, he placed his hand on her shoulder, and she shyly lifted her head. "This place is yours." He said, gesturing with one hand to the entire garden. "You're always welcome here, and I'll always be waiting for ya."
Though the words were touching, they contained great confusion. Placing her cup back on the table, she tilted her head, trying to make sense of his offer. "... That's ... very kind, but we've only just met! Why are you saying such things to me?" The way he worded them, it was if he knew her always, but she was absolutely sure she had never met him before.
Not minding, his hand left her shoulder, only to now instead take one of her own hands, holding it with both of his hands. "I wish I could tell ya..." His voice became softer, with a small tint of sadness to it. "... But that'll have to wait, because you're about to..." Moving in closer, he whispered to her ear. "Wake up."
What?
Her eyes reopened, and she was in her bedroom, staring up at the familiar ceiling, in her familiar bed, hearing the familiar cry of her familiar cat. Everything was as it always was.
Based on the tokyo disney Halloween show, Mysterious masquerade. Go look it up on youtube, it is awwwwesome.
He sat there, staring at the entire scene in disbelief. How could it be, that only a short time ago, all of his friends were just happily partying, and now, people left and right were running and screaming in terror, before they were suddenly turned into additional minions for the monsters running about. Each loss had been a dagger to his heart, but the worst one of all had been his beloved, who laugh haughtily at the fright of others. She, who had once been so kind and shy, was now an Egyptian Queen, cackling in delight along with the other former friends. He found strength to get to his feet, and struggled to think of what to do. How was he supposed to save them, when he barely understood what was going on?
His attention was mainly focused on Minnie, and the ache in his body only grew stronger. He could not stand to see her like this, to see her personality so twisted by the Halloween curse. Where was the real Minnie? Was she locked away within that body, trying to escape? Emotion overwhelmed reason, and it controlled his feet, and he found himself running right towards her. Her golden scaled bodyguards took notice, but this time, he was faster.
Her malicious laughter was cut off when she felt arms behind her, gripping her tightly to Mickey's body. His voice cut hers off, filled with longing and begging. "Wake up!" It may not have been necessary to shout at such a close range, but his despair would not allow for a quieter tone. "This isn't the Minnie I know! I know you're in there... I'm sorry I couldn't save ya, but, please!" His face was scrunched into her shoulder, as he fought tears. "Minnie, wake up!
Her Highness went absolutely still. Though the friends began chortling at such a pathetic effort, her mind seemed to go blank. For the briefest of seconds, her eye color flickered, returning to the hazy warmth of the original host. Yet before a lasting effect could be made, his grip vanished, when her golden bodyguards had yanked him off, and easily tossed him aside. He landed hard on his stomach, and without his loving embrace, the Queen took hold once more, and she joined her servants in mocking noises.
As he rose again, the sadness remained, but now also an anger. These things were taking away his loved ones... and they wouldn't let him even try to get them back? This would not stand! His eyes were lit with fire, and he looked to the ceiling, knowing the spirit that had started this whole mess was watching. "I won't let ya do this!" Now he was aware of his yelling, on purpose, taking the attention of all. "My friends... Ya can't have them! I'm taking them back!"
These next two are based on a friend's wonderful idea for Inventor!Mickey making Robot!Minnie. His goggles are the best. First in his POV, then in hers.
"...Just a little more here..." He was murmuring in a soft tone, clearly not trying to engage in any sort of conversation, as he twisted the last piece inside of his creation's hand. Was he assuring himself? Was he assuring her? Was he just trying to distract himself so he wouldn't have to look into her eyes? Who knew. But the 'little more' was easily gone, and, satisfied with the day's work, he pulled back his screwdriver. "There. All done."
He began to withdraw his hand, but she clasped it, gently, and he found himself startled, staring at their combination. Slowly, her fingers entwined with his, the lace of her gloves becoming slightly smudged due to his work uniform. He dared to look at her face, and she was smiling simply, right at him. Strange, how even though he had designed those eyes, down to the very shade of color, and knew exactly the machinations behind every little movement of her pupils, he found himself intensely floored by her stare. How was the mere act of holding his hand bringing such a warmth and depth to her expression? His cheeks were coloring, he could feel it.
Her hand began to shift again, with this time her thumb moving across his palm. He caught her taking a quick glance of her own action, to confirm if she had done it correctly. No doubt she had read about it and wanted to try it for herself. He'd have to make a note of checking up on those darn chipmunks and see what they were giving her to read. Then again, he surmised, it was good of her to learn such romantic things, it would make her a better wife for Mortimer...
With that ringing in his head, he instantly pulled his hand back, ignoring her look of surprise and disappointment, turning around so he wouldn't have to look at her. "Right! So! Let's, uh, let's record this, gotta... gotta make sure we keep the records straight, or I'll just wind up fixing your hand again when it doesn't need fixing." He had not meant to make his voice high pitched, so he cleared his throat, and headed to his desk, hearing the clicking of her feet right behind him.
"Chip and Dale let me people-watch today." She chirped, pleasant, already over his rejection.
That could have explained the hand-holding bit. "So you learned a few things." He sat down on his chair with wheels, taking out one of his various notebooks, a thin pencil, and began jotting down what he had done to her hand.
"Some people were returning home." She began to walk around, trying to explain her day with her actions. "And they were riding on this... on this animal with a long neck and four legs, and it had feet shaped like the letter U."
A brief pause. "Those are called horses."
"Horses." she repeated, then went back into her little dance. "And there was this huge group of people who were really happy to see them! And there was lots of clapping..."
"Mm-hmm." He nodded absently, not entirely listening. But, as she continued to ramble on, he allowed himself to glance up from his notes and watch her. She was absolutely delighted to retell what she had seen, most likely newlyweds returning from their honeymoon if he had to speculate. She was describing every single member of the welcoming party, down to the finest detail, in such joy and wonder that her tongue hadn't worn out. He leaned back in his chair, feeling tugs on the ends of his lips... he felt he could watch her for hours and never be bored.
"... And then the girl and the boy did something I've never seen before."
He failed to notice he was being questioned at, still lost in watching his fascinating little doll just exist. When her eyes locked on his, however, he realized that he'd lost track, and jerked upwards, fighting the red that had only just left his face. "Uh, yes!" He spat out, trying to retain his composure."That, uh... come again?" Inwardly, he was scolding himself - she was just walking metal! Electricity that could speak! Why was he getting all flustered over something that wasn't alive? He faced himself with those questions more and more these days.
"I said, the girl and the boy did something I've never seen before." Her head tilted slightly in her puzzlement. "And everyone reacted differently... some of them clapped again, some of them whistled, some of them blushed, some of them looked away..."
"Well, what did they do?" He placed his notebook and pen down.
She took a few steps closer to him. "Can I show you?"
He raised an eyebrow... but, well, what could be 'worse' than holding hands? "Sure, if you think it will help."
He almost instantly regretted it, as she suddenly sat right down in his lap -
"Uh, hey, wait a minute - "
- put her hands on his shoulder -
"W-Wait a minute!"
- closed her eyes, and pressed her lips right onto his.
"Wai-mmph!"
The logical part of his head noted that this was a handy experiment. Mortimer would want a good kisser in his wife, surely. It was good here to note that the molds used for her face were soft enough to be mistaken for skin, and she was using the right amount of pressure for this action. The grip on his shoulders wasn't too tight, and she fit comfortably in his lap. She didn't taste like metal or copper, just a coolness that eased the senses. Logically, he could think all of this.
The other parts of his mind just went 'homina'.
The typical mortal is equipped with a 'flight or fight' response built in when a dangerous situation arises. It is when the body goes on auto-pilot when the brain can't function. His body chose the 'fight' response, arms rigidly stretching out and going around her, keeping her tight against him, eyes screwed shut, and pressing back with his own mouth in a calculated guess. His tail was absently thumping against his chair in utmost happiness.
This is not a good idea!said the logical part of his mind.
Ah, shaddap.said the rest of his mind.
She's just a doll - and Mortimer's doll!said the logic.
Shaddap.said the rest, again.
"Mickey?"
I said shaddap!Only after did he realize that last one wasn't in his head, but in reality. Eyes popped open underneath his green goggles, and he and his girl looked back to the desk, where Chip and Dale were staring in sheer shock. How long had they been there? When did they get back from walking Pluto? The brothers looked at each other, then back at Mickey, and they crossed their arms in disapproval.
"This... this isn't what it looks like." He attempted, voice weak.
Minnie cocked her head again. "It isn't?"
Can't say I didn't warn you.Said the logic.
Just because he was asleep didn't mean she had to stop learning. Once again, the little inventor had worked himself to the bone, resulting in him falling asleep right at his workspace. Chip, Dale, and Pluto had already shut down for the evening, but Minnie felt there was still so much to explore. Quietly walking up to him, she looked him over, until her eyes rested on his hand, laid atop of old blueprints. As always, he was wearing his work gloves, now stained with oil and ink. His sleep was usually very deep, so she felt safe in proceeding knowing he would not be disturbed.
Delicately, she picked up his hand, inspecting it closer. Though concepts such as 'touch' and 'warmth' were still a struggle to understand, she believed his hand to be 'warm', compared to hers. Looking back and forth between his hand and hers, she changed the grip to make it on his wrist, and then used her other hand to put it up against his. Her fingers weaved in through the spaces between his, and settled comfortably. The grime of his gloves rubbed off on her, but she paid it no mind. All of her rapt attention were on the interlocked fingers.
They seemed to fit together perfectly, the pieces of a puzzle snapping into place. Black fur meshed with black fur, and it was a spectacle to tilted her head this way and that, trying to see hold from every angle. It was impossible to tell how much time passed as she watched their hands, lost in the differences. However, this action was not to go unnoticed. To her surprise, the normally silent and still sleeper began to shift in place. A soft murmur was made from, him, though just what was said could not be understood.
The actions ended as soon as they began, and it turned out he had barely moved at all. Yet there was a single thing that had changed in his sleeping position. His hand, once limp and immobile, was now firmly clasping hers in return. Was this a natural reaction, or part of those 'dream' things he spoke of that she had yet to comprehend? She would just have to ask when he was fully awake. She could be patient for that answer.
For now, she brought their entwined embrace up to her cheek, and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. There were so many things in life she had yet to truly understand. Even actions she took herself, such as this, she did without a full explanation. It just seemed the right thing to do, to make her happy. This feeling deep within her had to be happiness... this fire lit up in her chest, this sensation of stillness and contentment, this knowledge that nothing else mattered but for him to touch her and wear that wonderful smile...
What was love? What was tenderness? What was affection, longing, desire? How deeply she wished to know of these, and was now awaiting his awakening, in hope that more of her questions could be answered. Until then, she would stay perfectly still, keeping their hands together, watching his sleeping mouth form into that wonderful smile.
As a requested by a friend to write a 'dark' Mickey based off some sketches she created.
Of course she was afraid. It would be impossible not to be afraid. The important thing was not to show it. So far, she believed she was achieving that. Her body wasn't shaking, her sight was focused, and the grip upon her blade was tight. Ascending onto each step, her resolve grew stronger, and the gigantic doors opened when she came upon the final step.
The throne room was dark, only lit by candles. It had once belonged to a great king, but now all remnants of that were trashed. Almost everything inside had been destroyed, or at least tainted by darkness. Only one other soul was within this room, and he sat upon the throne, which now wore many cuts, ready to fall apart with the simplest breeze. There could have been some of his followers in the shadows, but even if there were, they wouldn't have moved without his orders. It might has well just have been the two of them.
The doors suddenly slammed shut behind her, almost making her jump. There was no backing out now, though she didn't plan to anyway. If anything, it only made her push forward, beginning to walk to the throne, and the one who lazily sat upon it. She could feel the eyes of the men in the shadows praying upon her, but paid them no mind. They were no longer her enemies, but an audience to this final fight. They would be dealt with later.
Initially, he had been leaning to his one side, almost looking ready to nap. The curse upon his soul had done much to warp his personality, yet there were things about him that still couldn't change, such as his childish ways. Once he noticed her at the door, though, his body sat upright, attention fully given. He smiled, and at that, she stopped walking. She had seen that smile so many times back, back when the curse had been only a thing of legend, back when they were just ordinary people, and to see it now almost brought her back to that time. It was painful.
He rose, but grabbed no weapon. "Minnie." Even his voice, which still contained that grating lowness, still also held that same love and adoration every time he spoke of that cherished childhood name.
The force on her sword wavered, but easily enough returned back to strength. "Michael."
His smile wavered when his own nickname was returned, and finally the fact that she was holding her blade was noticed. "... So, it's come down to this."
She stood in place, not daring to move. "You knew it would. This has to end now."
His eyes moved, trying to make a decision. Feet moved, walking toward her, and now they were right in front of each other, him looming over her. The fear inside of her increased, wondering how and when he would strike. However, when he did, it came so fast that she had no time to think of a counterattack or a defense... mostly because the strike wasn't an actual attack. It was his arms around her, a loving embrace, one hand in her hair, startling her so much that her sword fell, clattering on the stone floor. Breath escaped her, then she realized what he was doing.
"I've missed ya so much." He spoke quietly, whispering into her ear. "All I've been able to do is think about ya... and now we're together again. We can watch the fireflies again."
This was worse than any fight. She could stand her blood being drawn, could stand him trying to end her life, could stand all forms of wounds and injuries... but this? Words of tenderness, a hold so dear, remembrance of better times, this was the worst pain of all. She wanted to fight the monster inside of him, not him. Her heart longed to return the gesture, with her own arms holding him, and never let go. Shaking, she found herself able to speak, but it was a pitiful word. "Stop."
"Ya don't have to do this." Onward he continued, maybe he didn't hear her or chose to ignore it. "We can stay right here. Ya never have to fight again. Just stay by my side, and I'll give everything you've ever wanted. I'll never leave ya..." One hand came to her cheek, lifting up to her face, brushing away a few locks of her hair. His expression was soft, words sincere. "My sweet Minnie. Stay with me."
Her eyes felt hot, and she had to blink many times to avoid tears. This wasn't fair. Inside, she was screaming, wanting to do just as he said. Let the world burn, let everyone suffer, just so long as they could be together, what else mattered? It would be so easy, just to let go. His lips touched her own, and it was a beautiful suffering.
But... she could not... let... this... go on.
Her hand lashed out, and slapped him across his face. He stumbled to the side, and she quickly picked up her blade, and to hell with the water that spilled down her cheeks. "Am I supposed to forget..." her voice was gaining power, as she faced him again. "...everything you've done? All the people you've hurt? All the people you'll keep hurting? No!" Now her sword was held in both hands. "I could never be happy, knowing my lover is still be a tyrant!"
He held his cheek, stunned by the strike. It was inconceivable that she would reject him. His eyes flashed, and the curse within him, the one that fed on his doubts and fears and enforced his rage, the one that had led him to this path of destruction, now was twisting his reasoning as to why she would turn him down. It gained might as it devoured his heartbreak, and when he spoke, all traces of his dialect were gone, voice entwined with the darkness inside of him. "How... dare you!" To the side of the throne was a lumbering ax, and it was now in his hand, gray steel tinted with faded blood, as he lumbered toward her, she took steps backwards, preparing for what was to come.
He took a practicing swing, cutting only the air. "I love you! I've always loved you!" His intonation hardly matched with the words, sounding more like a savage beast than a scorned boy. "Is it someone else? Who has taken you away from me!"
"No one!" Even though reasoning him with him now would be useless, it had to be said. It was unfathomable to love another, no matter what he had done these past years. It was why this battle was all the more difficult.
The denial did nothing, as in the man's contorted mind, the only logical explanation for the rejection was another man. Rage piled upon rage, and he held up high his weapon. "I won't let anyone have you! I love you! I love you!" Over and over he chanted it, as a vicious war cry.
Metal met metal, and the harsh clash began.
A Darkwing Duck story I'd like to do someday - Taking place before he and Morgana become a couple, she, Isis Van Der Chill, and the remains of the D-2000/DD realize Darkwing has more or less dated all three of them, and get in a competition to see who he really loves. For this scene, our hero was knocked out, and now begins to wake up.
As his senses began to snap to attention, there were many things to notice, all at once. Aside from his headache, he found himself immobile, arms and legs tied by, guessing from the feel, tight chains. This room was incredibly warm, and he could feel several beads of sweat dripping through his fathers. As voices began to become clearer and clearer, he managed to close his eyes, and upon so...
... realized he was upside-down. He was chained upside down, hanging from a ceiling, in an abandoned electronics warehouse.
This may be a problem, he thought to himself, ignoring the rush of blood going right to his head. Instead, he focused on where the voices were coming from, and, with a tilt of his head, looked downward, right underneath him.
There was a small metal table, occupied by the three lawless ladies he had been pursuing before his noggin was knocked. DD was to the left, with a poorly constructed metal body consisting of plasma screen TVs, video game systems, and an old toaster. Her screens flickered every couple of moments, but her 'expression' - the same old gigantic lips that still gave him nightmares - remained ever the same, now grinding teeth in agitation. Isis was to the left, layered in what could be guessed as seven fur coats, yet still shivering intensely, rubbing her arms in another attempt to warm herself up. She too was not caring any look of pleasantries. Right in the middle was Morgana, hair left down, strumming the table with her elongated fingernails, and appeared to be the head of the current conversation. In her other hand was his fedora, waved about like a victory flag.
"I believe we can act like civilized villains." said the sorceress, carefully looking from woman to 'woman'. "There must be some proper way to settle this."
"Excuse me?" Darkwing cleared his throat.
"If you want us to be so civilized, you come up with the idea." Isis sneered, eyes blazing hard on the hat.
"Excuse me?" Darkwing tried again.
"Statistically speaking, " and that was DD, voice warbled, sounding as if she was six people at once. "The one who knew him best should have him. Before he erased it from my data drives, I knew him better than anyone in this entire city."
Not a fan of the 'rule of three' gag, the hero settled for yelling at the top of his lungs. "HEEEEEEEEEEY!" That got their attention, and now all three females looked up at him in surprise, as if forgetting they had put him there. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Gee, I'm SO sorry to interrupt your bridge game of badness, but... WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"
The girls looked at each other, then calmly put their attention back to him. Morgana stood up, all smiles. "We're just settling something about you, Dark darling."
"Mind telling me?" He snapped, wriggling about in the tight chains, knowing nothing would ever suppress the rage he was feeling at such utter humiliation.
"It's simple, really." Isis stood up, hands rubbing together. "We're trying to think of a way to prove who is really your girlfriend, and who is just some floozy that happened to catch him off guard, or who is just some rusty radio that wouldn't know love from a lug-nut." Judging from her grin, she was wholly accepting the glares she was receiving.
The caped crusader was about to speak, when the implications sunk in. "... Lemme get this straight. You're all fighting over me?"
"Correct." DD's screens flashed a circle, indicating he had given the right answer in this summation.
Darkwing stared. Goodbye, rage. Hello, ego the size of Alaska. "... Well then." He chirped, pleasant. "Carry on. Don't mind me."
Morgana twirled the fedora on one finger, addressing her comrades. "I might have an idea that works for us all... any good relationship between a hero and a villain must have plenty of tension. He can't just have some run of the mill mook. The hero of St. Canard deserves the worst evil doer that this city can offer."
DD and Isis exchanged intrigued glances, with the cold one speaking for the both of them. "What exactly are you suggesting?"
The witch placed the hat back on the table. "A crime spree."
Those words snapped Darkwing out of his deluded fantasies of catfights with him as the ultimate victor, resuming his wriggle in captivity. "What!"
She carried on. "The one who commits the biggest and best crime will earn the right to be Darkwing's girlfriend."
Wriggle wriggle wriggle. "Now hold on a minute!"
That earned a laugh from Isis, speaking through chattered teeth. "Is that all? You're on! I was the one who managed to turn this entire place into gold!"
Wriggle wriggle. "Wait a second!"
"And was defeated just as quickly." DD's screens now showed a lascivious grin. "I accept this challenge. With my enhanced hacking abilities, you'll be begging for mercy... which I'll drown out, with surround sound."
Wriggle. "Have I mentioned how flattering it is that I DON'T GET A SAY IN THIS?"
Morgana tsked, wagging a finger. "Don't count my magic out so easily... but let's have some fun. In forty-eight hours, we'll have our victor." Agreeing on the time, each one strutted out. DD zapped herself into the other broken electronics, until she found a powerline strong enough to carry her away. Morgana snapped her fingers, and vanished in a cloud of black smoke. Isis... used the front door.
It was around that time that his constant movement, along with his slick of sweat, managed to loosen him enough to slide out of the chains, "A-ha!", so he could fall smack onto the metal table, face first. Once he was sure that a cracked rib was surely not enough to kill him, he staggeringly managed to take his hat, and place it atop his hopefully not dented skull. Sometimes, he thought, as consciousness was trying to be held onto, it's painful to be this irresistible.
Again with making it upon hearing a song, this time being the Vocaloid hit, World Is Mine.
Donald knew right then and there that the Angel of Death was not some grim reaper figure, donning a black cloak and scythe. No, death was staring him in the form of his mutual crush, Daisy, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, high heeled foot tapping the tiled floor, looking right at him and the girl in his arms. From the way she gazed upon them, Donald could see his whole life flash before his eyes - it was a very boring film. Shaking, he opened his mouth, mentally praying for mercy. "It's... It's not what it looks like!"
"It isn't?" The strange girl looked up at him, smirking. Daisy was silent.
"She tripped!" He gestured to the slant way the two were standing, nearly leaning over backwards. "And I caught her! I swear!"
"And in a very gentlemanly fashion, I might add." The caught female pat Donald's back in appreciation, but he shook his head hard - the last thing he needed was for this one to touch him more.
Daisy looked at the girl, then at Donald, back and forth, making a decision. Settling upon the boy, she smiled.
Donald inwardly screamed not unlike that of a six year old schoolgirl. He didn't wanna die, not yet! There was so much left in his life he wanted to do! Travel the world! See his nephews grow up! ... It was a small list, but it was an important list, darn it! He was shaking so hard that his lower and upper bill chattered as they hit each other.
Daisy placed her hands on her hips, and slowly began to walk towards them, taking her time, hips swaying as she moved. While Donald prayed for his demise to be quick and painless, she lightly touched the fallen girl by both shoulders... and threw her off and away so hard, that she was now an impression in the foremost wall. Without even waiting for the dust to settle, the attacker then made a faint cry, one arm in the air, and and fell forward, taking the other girl's place in Donald's arms. "Oh, you caught me!"
His mouth was agape at all that happened in such a short amount of time, but nothing came out. What, exactly, was the right response to watching the girl you liked fling another girl like a pro wrestler and then come on to him like nothing occurred? The 'another girl' managed to peel herself off the damage, sitting on the floor, debris in her hair. Daisy reached up to place her fingers on his bill, effectively snapped them shut loudly, and then yanking it down so he would be forced to look at her.
"You're so sweet, always helping others." Her voice was light, airy, dreamy, the ever so fragile female who needed a big strong man just to keep her on her feet. "Even helping the really ugly and really fat girls who could never land a guy even if they tried."
The other girl - pretty and thin - was standing up, still blowing dust out of her face. "Why, dear, don't degrade yourself so much." She sneered.
Daisy released Donald's beak, only to snuggle up to him closer. "Ooooh, she's being so mean." The words were cooed. "I think only the embrace of a handsome and wonderful guy can heal these wounds."
Maybe any other day, when he hadn't seen her trying to curb-stomp a fellow female, he would have more than happily took in the moment, relishing her feel and be overjoyed that his feelings were finally returned. Today, however, he realized that for any time in his past he had ever thought 'I couldn't be more terrified than I am now', this moment in time blew them all away. The hellfire glares and cracked knuckles from the attacked woman weren't helping. He nearly yelped when he felt Daisy's fingernails dig into his back, and despite the smile not leaving her face, hearing her hiss "Hug me now, you jerk."
He was an afraid duck, not a stupid one, and so instantly his arms went around her, holding her tightly. This was met with a content sigh, as she nuzzled his cheek with affection. That was met with his cheeks turning an apple red, hoping it would not become a bruised apple. THAT was met with the other girl striding up, then growling near opponent's head. If looks could kill, Daisy would be dead sixteen times over. "You haven't changed a bit, Daisy."
"Afraid I can't say the same for you." She lifted her head to gaze into Donald's eyes, fluttering her eyelashes. "You've gotten fatter."
Donald dared to ask. "... You two know each other?"
"Unfortunately." Both girls said at the same time, and in that disturbing instant, Donald knew he was not going to have a very healthy school year ahead of him.