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rogersideup · 1 year

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Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter two

Inhale, Exhale

Series masterlist

Previous part: Welcome to Greenwood Next part: Nice to be Needed

Word count: 4,668

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Descriptions of anxiety attacks and mental health issues.

When Steve received the key to his own place, it was the first time in a while he felt like life was starting to look up. He had months of insecurity through every aspect possible.

Never knowing where he would sleep next, which country he was going to have to flee to in order to escape a high security prison cell for another day, most times he didn't even know where his next meal would come from.

He spent his days with his head held low, anxiety pumping through his veins over the thought of someone recognizing him, he never went more than a minute or two without looking over his shoulders.

But the key dangling off a metal ring was a promise of four safe walls so long as his relaxed landlord didn't ask many questions, but he planned on never giving him a reason to.

Considering he had nothing but a backpack full of clothes, and money he had stashed away in the event he would ever find himself in a situation like this, he knew he needed to buy some stuff to make his home more comfortable.

Even though he wanted to create a cozy sanctuary in his new house, he still felt a sense of uncertainty. At any given moment his situation could change. His burner phone could ring for help, a neighbor could report him; springing him back to his feet until he could find a new place to settle, or there could be some sort of agreement in favor of him being pardoned. The former is most unlikely, but Steve needed a mental plan for any given situation at any given moment.

Instead of being wasteful and buying all new furniture, he spent the days between getting his key and move in day finding second hand furniture to fix up to his liking.

He either had all the time in the world to restore a beautiful dining room set, or none at all, but either way he needed a place to eat. And sit. And sleep.

The goal he had in mind was for his place to be nice enough to not look suspicious if a neighbor needed to pop in for any sort of reason and for it to feel homey, but he also wanted to be okay with leaving it all behind in the case of an emergency.

He curated quite the collection over the course of a handful of days. Scouring flea markets, thrift stores, and local postings, he made sure to get all the basics and necessities of a good home.

Of course things like cookware and silverware, bath towels and bath mats. A dining room table he actually loved, a couch that was listed as gently used but looked like it had never been sat on before, a bookshelf, a bed frame, a couple of side tables for the bedroom and living room, a desk, and a really beautiful lamp.

He also made sure to pick up a couple things that were less essential but made his house more homey. Fun trinkets to scatter around to make it feel and look more eclectic, a few different rugs for the common areas and his bedroom, some art supplies to keep himself busy, a few second hand puzzles also too keep himself busy, and some framed art to hang on the walls.

He'd get more for himself when and if he got the chance to, but he felt confident that it was a really good start. Especially on move in day when he managed to get himself all set up, and his place looked like it was curated full of well loved stuff.

Like how the little scuff mark on the leg of the entryway table told a story of that one time his nephew was roller skating inside the house and accidentally ate it, or how the little golden book ends holding up his collection of thrifted books were in the shape of a wiener dog. He'd read them eventually, but they already looked like their spines had been cracked and bended as if they were his favorite books. The dining table hosted many dinner parties in his days back in wherever he had come from, he should probably decide that soon. The chair tucked into the desk with art supplies sprawled across the top looked as if he had spent many hours there trying to get the details of a painting juusssstttt right.

It looked like home, and it felt like home. It was convincing enough to be a home.

Tomorrow he decided he would buy himself a few throw pillows for the couch and a couple extra blankets just to make it feel more comfortable.

Maybe a few more shirts and a couple new pairs of pants so nobody wondered why he wore the same outfits on a tight rotation.

Although he planned on staying closely within his home and backyard, only venturing off to the grocery store and empty outdoor spaces to go on runs and get fresh air when he could, the possibilities felt endless.

For the first time in months, he plopped down on the couch with ease, laid back with a deep exhale and closed his eyes. For the first time in months, he could finally sleep.

And sleep he did. For hours and hours and hours, completely on accident. Sure, he slept a bit every night, but it had been ages since he could actually rest. He awoke to the sound of a car pulling into a driveway, so he peaked out the curtains in his living room window to see your black sedan pull up in front of your house.

Familiarizing himself with all the new sounds of this little neighborhood would come with time. Life felt a little unreal as he flicked on the lights in the living room, trying to process how long he had been asleep for, and how long he had been ignoring his body's pleas for some real rest.

He felt as though the sleep should've made him feel refreshed and rejuvenated like a whole new person, like after almost a full 8 hours maybe he would've been energized enough to keep trucking along in the process of hanging up the hooks he got for the front door, or maybe even scrounging up something to eat, but that wasn't the case. His brain was still foggy with exhaustion, ready to force him into another 12 to 24 hours of pure dormancy.

Running his hands through his long hair, and rubbing his face into his palms, his heart rate skyrocketed as he heard footsteps up the path to his front doorway.

His head snapped over to the door, and he was quick to investigate through the little glass window creating a small archway at the top of his door.

You approached with a few things in your hands, and carefully shifted to free one of your fists to politely knock on the door.

Steve knew he recognized your friendly face from somewhere, but he had met so many kind people on his journey of trying to furnish his new place that he couldn't pinpoint where exactly he knew you from. That feeling of familiarity did nothing to ease the anxiety thumping in his chest and scratching at his brain while his hand unlocked and opened the door.

The moment he opened the door, your heart was pounding out of your chest too, he was absolutely gorgeous. Even prettier than you remember all those days ago when he came into Nice To Be Kneaded. Although Georgia shot you a text in the middle of the workday to let you know she caught a glimpse of the dream boat moving in next-door and he had that same luscious beard and dirty blonde hair, you still couldn't be 100% certain it would be him until he was right in front of your face.

And now here he was. With sleepy blue eyes, and his golden brown hair in its full glory. With no hat on his head you got to appreciate the way it fell with a hydrated bounce, and curled upwards around the base of his neck.

"Hey there, Honey." You said calmly, empathizing with his tired eyes. As soon as the word 'honey' fell out of your mouth, he immediately felt that warm feeling he got in the bakery, and remembered you in a heart beat. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head. Kind've a lie, but it wasn't your fault.

"Not sure if you remember me but I'm-"

"From the bakery right? Nice To Be Kneaded?" He cut you off, but only to prove that he did remember you without needing the reminder. Something about you made him want to put in the effort.

"That's the one!" You smiled. "I actually live right next-door in house 306, just wanted to stop by and bring you a few things to welcome you home." He couldn't help the smile on his face as you handed him a pastry box full of cookies, and a fresh loaf of bread. "I saw you unloading your truck when I left for work this morning and remembered you liked chocolate chip, but I kind've mixed in a few other flavors for you to try. I'm also not too sure what else you liked but figured everyone loves some fresh baked bread."

"That's perfect, thank you so much" He smiled and set the box down on the entry way table right next to him. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime! How's the place coming along?" You made friendly conversation in hopes of getting to know your new neighbor a little better.

"It's coming together, although I think I underestimated how much work it would be to actually get it all done." He responded, happy with the amount of information he was giving.

"You live here by yourself?" You questioned with good intentions, he could practically smell the goodness radiating off of you.

He could tell right then and there that a sweet little thing like you was going to be dangerous in this game of mystery and anonymity he was trying to play.

"I do, not much of a roommates kinda guy." He shrugged with a grin, leaning on the doorway anticipating more conversation to flow.

"I mean, I was getting more so at the wife and kids type of answer" You giggled.

"Oh! Right! Cause this is a place where most people have wife and kids, huh?" He questioned.

"Nothing but the simple suburban, white picket fence one-boy-one-girl kinda families here" You admitted. "I live alone too, us single folk are a rarity here. We're kinda like the neighborhood unicorns."

"You live alone?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed in what looked like slight concern.

"I do." You said confidently. "It's a safe neighborhood, kids leave their bikes and toys out all night long an nothing ever happens to 'em. I think you'll love it here."

"I really hope so. So far it seems great, really friendly neighbors." He referred to you, the first one to come say hello to him. "So, you work at the bakery?"

"I own the bakery actually" you stated proudly.

"Oh, no way! That's awesome" Steve enthused. "I was planning on stopping by again soon, I really loved it when I went."

"We would love to have you back anytime" You welcomed him while pulling something out of your back pocket and holding it up to his face. "But when I tell you something is on me, that means it's on me, not leave money when I'm not looking."

In your hand, a crisp $20 bill. A sly and lopsided smile smeared across his face. You were a force to be reckoned with. "You have no proof that was me." He defended himself playfully.

"I have security cameras, Steven..."

"Okay, you have some proof that was me. But that's none of your business. I tip well everywhere I go." He refused to take the $20 from between your fingers. "Plus, your cookies were delicious. Worth every dollar I have to my name."

"You're going to get this $20 back whether you like it or not!" You giggled. "I know where you live"

"This is the second time I've met you, and the second time you've threatened me." He pointed out with a raised eyebrows.

"Well this is the second time you've given me reason to threaten you!" You defended yourself.

"I'm not taking that back" he denied.

"Well I'm not accepting it."

"Well then this is really awkward, isn't it?" Steven asked, obvious stubbornness in his eyes.

A plan popped in your head, and it's started with you faking defeat. "Ugh. Fine. But next time, you better not try this again!"

"There won't be a next time if you don't let me pay" He challenged, still with a grin he was trying to hold back.

"Oh we're going to be having a lot of arguments then" You laughed and his obvious ignorance of what it would be like to be neighbors with you. "In all seriousness, I can't imagine moving to a new place like Greenwood all on your own would be easy. So if you need anything at all I'm right next door, and if I'm not there I'm usually across the way at 309, or over at the bakery."

"Thank you, that's very sweet. Same goes to you, I'll be here." He offered sincerely, mentally slapping himself across the face for opening up far too quick and being way too trusting. Two promises to himself he had already broken after not even one full day in his new place, 304.

"You look sleepy so I'll leave you be now. Have a good night, honey. Don't be a stranger." You gave him a sweet little wave goodbye and started slowly walking away.

"Thanks for the treats, have a good night."

He closed the door and got settled down again, right back on his couch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Though he was exhausted, something about the setting sun made him feel uneasy and on edge.

That feeling remained deep within the pit of his stomach throughout the whole night, as if the moment he fell asleep something bad would happen. He had a vision playing in the back of his head that if he let his eyes close, the next time they opened he would be surrounded by a swat team.

Guns drawn, shouting at him to stay down. He'd see red laser dots all over his chest, tens of different weapons threatening to end his life if he had made one wrong move. He had been in that position before, hands restrained and the authorities taking all his autonomy right back.

Each time he found a way out of the mess he found himself wrapped up in, but this time he wasn't so sure if there would ever be a way out.

Those thoughts kept him up for every dreadful hour of the night. He couldn't even get himself to step into his bedroom, the thought of sleeping in a bed was so suffocating for some reason.

So he stayed on the couch and tried his hardest to turn his brain off. All 12 hours of moonlight were spent with nothing but the soft glow of the television illuminating the living room while clutching his blanket around him as if his life depended on it. He watched lighthearted cartoons, nostalgic period pieces, and comedies, yet nothing soothed his brain.

Every once in a while, his eyes would slowly shut until he gained an awareness of what was happening and his brain would protest.

You're not safe. Open your eyes.

They'd snap open and his thoughts would startle him so much it would take a good while for his eyelids to fall heavy again.

Bucky is in a cryochameber. Where's Nat? Sam? Clint, Scott, Sharon?

You kissed her, then forced her out of her home country.

This is your fault, you monster.

Then, he'd be wide awake for hours. Indulging in a cookie every so often, each one reminded him of the days his mother would bake off a batch for him to raise his spirits when he was far too sick to even get up out of bed.

He didn't know if the buttery, chocolatey goodness in his mouth and the distant memory of his mother was helping him old back or encouraging the tears that welled in his eyes every time his brain started thinking a little too hard.

He recalled some of the last few words Natasha managed to mumble to him before he had to take off. "Things are going to get hard, you're going to be mentally exhausted. You'll hit walls that you'll think are impossible to break down, and when you do, there's going to be another wall behind it. You'll feel like giving up, but don't. Take it one day at a time, and if that's still too overwhelming, take it one breath at a time. I'll see you soon"

So that's what he did until the sunrise. He pondered why tonight or all nights was so hard. Maybe it's because he was experiencing the luxury of a roof over his head and a ever distant promise of temporary stability while he was completely unsure if that was the situation any of his team were in.

He just wanted to know that they were safe, he wanted them to be back on their feet and happy after what they've been going through. Even though they all willingly joined his fight because they were just as passionate about the cause, he couldn't help but to feel like all of this was his fault.

So, he took it one breath at a time. A deep inhale, hold. A deep exhale, hold.

And holding up to the only reliable promise in the grand scheme of the universe, the sun rose.

The glow of its soft morning rays though the sheer curtains of the windows through the house was the only thing that managed to quiet all the thoughts in his head.

He chose greenwood for a reason, he was safe here. No amount of worrying about other people would change their current situation; what's done is done.

Inhale, hold. Exhale, hold. Inhale again.

His tired eyes were begging for rest, but his body and mind were restless. So he picked himself up off the couch, put on some running shorts and sneakers, then set out of clear his head.

He had to run through quite of bit of the residential street before making it to the nature preserve walking trail, so he settled for a slower jogging pace as to not alarm anyone of his faster than average speed and stamina.

A few greenwood residents smiled at him as he passed by like a breeze, and he'd give a small wave in return.

Once he made it to the trail, he paced himself up and down it for miles and miles until his stomach reminded him that it had been a good while since he consumed anything but cookies, and his invasively droopy eyes reminded him that he set out on the run with the only goal being he could tire himself out enough to fall asleep once more.

He remembered there was a little diner only a mile from his front door, which was nothing but a breezy walk in the park for him. So he ran there from the trail, happy that he always keeps a bit of cash with him wherever he goes. He exchanged it for the biggest breakfast burrito he'd ever seen, and jogged it all the way back to his place where he packed it into his stomach. But on his way in, something caught his eye under the doormat.

A tiny corner of something was poking out from underneath the brown bristles, and when he bent over to pull it out in attempts to investigate, he could only smile when his fingers were now holding a $20 bill.

One silly little sign of you, a shower, breakfast burrito, and run later he was finally able to sleep.

Still not in his new room, but sleep nonetheless. It still counted even if it was on the couch.

Just as expected, he woke up as the sun was setting. But he vowed he could make this night a little different from the previous, because he was going to fight off the unwelcome emotions with a deep inhale, a deep exhale, and lay some paint onto a canvas.

That was something he hadn't been able to do in multiple years. Steve always hated that he let his commitment to being Captain America take over and stomp parts of his life that he really enjoyed before it changed.

Artistry was one of them. As he sat down at his desk, the hours passed by pretty quick as he laid down a pencil outline of a pretty lake the trail led him to today. As he finally made it to the paint portion, he discovered that even after everything he had been through, his ability to get paint all over his hands and forearms was still well intact.

He put his brushes down for a bit to let the first layer of paint dry, and decided to work on cleaning out all the boxes he had collected through the process of furnishing his house. He had thrown them in the garage to make it a problem for future him, and there was no better future than right now. Quite literally waiting for paint to dry.

He opened up the garage door for easy access to his recycling bin that was already on the curb for pickup on the morning, then started breaking down all the boxes with a box cutter.

Though it wasn't too terribly late, he still payed the tiniest bit of mind to the house across the street, and two doors over. All it's lights were on and the blinds were drawn allowing him to sneak a little look inside.

It was filled with people, all sitting around a table drinking what looked to be wine. They were all laughing together, and they seemed to be enjoying each other's company.

It made his heart ache a bit, he missed the days where he had a little chosen family and he was the one laughing without a care in the world. A bigger part of him was happy to see other people around him finding joy in their surroundings.

His mind went back to the big cardboard stack in front of him, it stole all his focus until he heard a sweet voice calling out to him.

"You know, you could build a pretty cool castle with all those boxes, Honey?"

As he looked up at sweet little ol' you, his heart skipped a beat and a strand of his hair flopped over his forehead.

You thought it was the cutest thing ever. The muscular hunk in some comfortable shorts and a relaxed t-shirt, his strong forearms covered in splotches of paint. He just looked like the tallest glass of domesticated water.

"Well I wish I would've thought of that about 10 boxes ago" He smiled, you took his good response as permission to walk up his driveway.

"The cool thing about cardboard boxes is that you could tape em' back up and it's like you never even flattened it out in the first place." You pointed out.

He couldn't help but to notice how pretty you looked tonight. With your hair curled, a full face of makeup and a put together outfit, he could only assume you had some plans to get to.

"You know what? I think if I see one more box I might lose my mind." He admitted. "Maybe the cardboard castle is something we can save for a rainy day in the far far future."

“Then don't look down" Your laugh sounded like the most beautiful slice of heaven to him. "What are you doing up this late? And why are you covered in... paint? Did you paint the walls today?"

"I'm a bit of a night owl, and no not the walls. I was painting a picture." He explained.

"Ohhhh, you're an artist?" You questioned. A hot hunk with a creative side? Swoon.

"Artist is a bold word" He declined the title. "I paint every so often as a hobby."

"Oh, so you're a humble artist!" You insisted.

"If you insist" He smiled. "Why are you up so late?" He reciprocated the questions.

"Well, Georgia across the street is hosting game night and I got caught up late at work so I'm just heading over now." She explained. "I was just going to bail since it's getting late but she said they're about to start a round of monopoly."

"That means you guys are going to be up and going until 2am." Steve pointed out with a grin.

"Yeah, well, I have the day off tomorrow so I guess I can stay out passed my bedtime" You shrugged, suddenly feeling bad that Steven would be here by himself breaking down boxes while the rest of the block was having fun. "Have you met Georgia and Michel yet?"

"I don't believe I have! Just you and James from a few doors down."

"Really?! Why don't you come join us? Like you said, monopoly goes on for ages so that'll give you plenty of time to get to know everyone." You invited him. "They told me to bring a guest"

In any other situation, he would've said yes. He was a pretty sociable person, most would consider him an outgoing extrovert, but throwing himself into that situation was like throwing meat to a pack of wolves. There would be way too many people who had far too many questions, anybody in there could recognize him at any second.

"I don't see any situation in which I could make myself even slightly more presentable even in the time span of a round of monopoly." Steve declined politely. "But thank you, hopefully next time."

"Hey, I understand! After a whole day's work sometimes you gotta recharge by yourself." You didn't push, and that alone made you feel like a breath of fresh air to him. "And just for the record, I think you still exceed all expectations even covered in paint."

"Oh stop it" He shrugged the compliment off his shoulder, with a giggle. "You're not too bad yourself."

"Just wait until you see me with a hairnet on, Steven. I look like one of the lunch ladies down at Greenwood Middle." You shook your head. "It gets rough."

"So you're a humble lunch lady?" He teased.

"Yeah, something like that" You laughed at his charm. "Would you be free at any point tomorrow? I'd love to show you around Greenwood- take you to all the best spots."

Something in your gut told you that he needed a friend, someone to help him get a hold on the lifestyle that comes with living somewhere like this before he'd open up to more people in the area. He was pulling you in, but you had no problems with that.

"...Yeah" He agreed slowly at first, he definitely had to think about it. "Yes. That sounds great." He said more confidently this time.

"Okay cool, what time works best for you?"

"I'll be here all day." Steve shrugged.

"Well considering I have monopoly on the schedule, how about late morning. Does 11am work?"

"Perfectly" Steve smiled.

"Cool, meet me at my house at 11 am" You smiled right back. "Have fun with those boxes"

"I mean, it's no monopoly but it'll definitely keep me occupied until 2 am" He chuckled. "Have fun at game night."

"Will do. See you tomorrow, Honey."

Next part: Nice to be needed

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10

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i-am-a-lost-girl16 · 7 months

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Eris and his Hounds

I'm not going to lie.. I'm slightly obsessed with Eris and his hounds. @erisweek2023

Eris was given his hounds by his father, though I firmly believe the intent isn’t for comradery or compassion. Beron’s intent in initially giving Eris his hounds as pups is to teach him a lesson in responsibility

Eris, as a young boy initially, is worried about raising the pups. He’s seen his father’s other hunting hounds and how ferocious they could be. The last thing he wants is to be responsible for a number of them. But Beron has made it clear: Either Eris takes care of them or they starve.

The first day in the kennel with them is all about Eris letting the hounds get familiar with him, he starts by just letting his hand hang into the kennel giving each hound the opportunity to sniff him. Once they’ve been exposed to his scent, he takes a small step inside. He braces himself as they swarm him, but his tension quickly drops as various snouts sniff and tickle him.

That’s how his first few weeks with them go, Eris lets himself get used to each one and lets each dog get used to him. Once he has a feel for their personalities he begins assigning them all their own names (In order: Four females and three males): Roux, Bronwyn, Aster, Gaia, Flint, Jora, and Bruno

Every day he has time set aside to go out and train them, starting with the basic commands of Sit, Stay, Down. Before he advances each of them into more complicated commands.

Eris takes full care of his hounds, he’s up in the morning to take them outside and give them breakfast, he’s back by mid day to run through training with them, and in his free time he will often find himself at their sides. Whether it’s more training or taking them out for longer breaks into the woods. In the evening, before he retires, he makes sure that each dog is alright and in its proper place before he goes to his own room.

Now I think bath time with seven hounds and Eris is a hilarious feat. The exasperated boy will absolutely chase each of them around the bathroom he commandeered for his task, yellow at them and using whatever distraction he possibly can. I think that bath time is the one space that hasn’t changed since the hounds were pups, it has and always will be chaos and Eris loves every single second of it.

By the end of their first year together, he and his hounds had already formed an unbreakable bond. Nobody takes care of Eris’ hounds but him and his hounds are the first thing he allows himself to love fully without fear of hiding it. His hounds answer to nobody but him truly.

Eris often goes to his hounds for solace, they’re some of the few living creatures that get to see him for who he truly is and each hound has their own special bond with Eris. There are plenty of late nights where he’s snuck to the kennels for comfort and fell asleep alongside them, only to wake up the next morning and have to threaten the nearest servant into silence about it.

He would never be able to choose a favorite, each hound has their own special spot in his heart and he knows each of their habits.

Roux won’t sleep without burrowing into her blanket several times until it’s up to her standard, Flint and Gaia have been inseparable since birth the only two actual siblings of his hounds and as such they can constantly be found side by side. Brownyn will not share her food and her bowl needs to be several feet from the others at meal times. Bruno hides his treats, Eris once found a stash of several bones hidden in a hole in the wall of his kennel. If it’s raining, Jora will howl and whine in his kennel until he’s given the chance to go out into it (On days like these Eris makes sure Jora gets a few extra minutes outside), and Aster is the kindest heart of them all and absolutely knows she has Eris wrapped around her paw with one sad dog look he can't help but give her an extra treat.

Eris isn’t often found without at least one of the hounds by his side when he’s wandering the Forest House or even other areas of the Autumn Court. There’s no need for a leash amongst them usually, they listen well enough to his commands to stay glued to his side unless otherwise told.

I truly believe that Eris’ hounds are his babies and he spoils them endlessly whenever he can. Wherever Eris goes, his hounds are sure to follow him.

If one of his female hounds got pregnant (or Beron demand that Eris find a stud to breed her with) Eris is the epitome of a mother hen. He’s beside his hound every step of the way threatening every animal physician he can into making sure it goes smoothly. When her pups are set to come, Eris is right by her side helping to deliver them. In the end she has a litter of about four healthy puppies with limited complications but Eris swears that he’s aged another hundred years because of the worry that he went through for his beloved hound and her pups.

I could probably ramble on and on about Eris and his pups but at the end of the day, they are some of the most important things in Eris’ life in my mind.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra hounds #eris acotar #erisweek2023 #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra headcanons #acotar headcanons

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rorywritesjunk · 2 months

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The stars in their courses will run and bring their hearts earthward to hear her.

Buggy brings his son in to the bakery to get a treat for his birthday. You like decorating cakes. Rating: PG-13ish. Warning: These two are trying their best. Birdie's got some issues. Buggy's got some issues. Together they have a subscription. Talk of child abandonment, Buggy doesn't want to talk. Bath time. Boundaries, Buggy. Also Buggy tries with compliments. A/N: Now that Birdie has a name I think of her a lot tbh.

Title comes from “Girl in the Garden” by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Darby really thought having you on board the ship was the best thing ever. You let him help you cook meals, read him books (he had ten books to choose from and you reread them to him as many times as he asked), and you loved playing with him. Sometimes you got tired and had to sit down, but even though you couldn't chase him around like his daddy did, you could still do other things.

His least favorite thing was getting a bath, even though it was only once a week. He hated being in the water, hated having his hair washed, face clean, everything that came with a bath and he made a fuss about it, whining at you, pouting, and crying for it not to happen. Buggy was there to support in case you needed it, but honestly he made it worse once he saw Darby’s big, sad eyes while he sat in the little wash tub. He'd insist that maybe Darby didn't need one, but you didn't back down.

“You're next, Buggy.” You warned him as you were letting Darby have an extra few minutes of playtime in the tub. Once the washing was over, he usually settled down and wanted to have time in there to splash around and play, which you allowed, giving him a toy whale to play with. “You're pretty stinky yourself.”

“What! No, I don't need one.” Buggy insisted, shaking his head. “I get by fine with a rag.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. It had been a month now since you arrived. Routines were put into place, even some boundaries, but every night while the two of you were in bed, he'd ask a question to get to know you better, still insistent that he was in love with you. And you gave him one-word answers, especially when he'd ask about family.

After a few minutes, you grabbed a towel and lifted Darby out of the wash tub and wrapped him up in it. Buggy was ready with his pajamas, though he was fine to let you handle everything because you were just so sweet and gentle with Darby. You had told him a few nights ago when you were putting Darby to bed how you always wanted kids, wanted to be a mom, but there was never an opportunity until you met Buggy, but it wasn't like you were expecting to get pregnant. It was something that just happened. It was probably the most you opened up to him so far.

“How come you're so good with kids?” Buggy asked as you helped Darby with his clothes. You paused for a moment, thinking about your answer, before you made sure Darby's hair was dry. You picked the boy up and went to sit down at the table, keeping him in your lap as you looked over at Buggy. “It just… comes so naturally to you.”

“Do you want that to be your bedtime question?” You asked as you grabbed a comb and ran it through the kid’s hair carefully, being mindful of tangles.

“Will I get a real answer?” He retorted as he put his hands on his hips. “You have given me a lot of one word answers since we started our little romance, y’know, and I think I'd like another full sentence now.”

You shrugged, setting the comb down before wrapping your arms around Darby and hugging him. He squirmed around in your arms, trying to hug you back, but settled for letting his head rest over your heart while his thumb went to his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes as he relaxed against you.

“I helped Mama with the babies and little ones at the orphanage.” You told him as you rubbed Darby's back slowly. Buggy frowned.

“Your mom ran an orphanage?”

You hesitated. Did you really want to get into this right now? You were tired, Darby was starting to settle down for the night, and you wanted to wash up before bed. But now seven months pregnant, it was a little harder to wash up, especially since you did it standing up with the wash tub.

“I'm going to put Darby to bed and… if you refill the tub with clean water, I'll answer that question next.” You told him as you stood up. Buggy didn't look convinced. “I promise, Buggy. I'll answer that question if you… help me out with my bath. It's getting a little harder to do some things.”

Buggy frowned at that, wondering if you really would or if this was all a ploy to get his help. You brushed past him but he stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Look, if you got things you can't talk about-”

“No, I just don't want to talk about it, but maybe I should.” You shrugged. “I'm going to put him to bed. Will you please change the water for me?”

You walked out after that, heading to Darby’s room to put him down for the night. He woke up for a moment, frowning at you as he rubbed his eyes sleepily. You handed him his stuffed penguin, tucked him in, and kissed him on the forehead. Once you were certain he was asleep, you went to grab some dry towels from your room before you went back to the kitchen, pausing when you saw Buggy filling the wash tub with boiling water. You raised an eyebrow, watching as he stuck his hand into the water only to jerk it back in surprise at the temperature.

“Are you going to cook me, Buggy?” You asked. “Because I don’t know if I’m edible.”

“I’unno, I find you pretty tasty.” He grinned and winked at you, giving you a look over. “Y’know, this is the first time I’ve got to help you bathe. Do we need to lay down rules about what I can’t do?”

“Is this your attempt at flirting?” You chuckled as you sat down at the table, lifting one of your legs up. “Can you take my shoes and socks off for me? It’s… it’s getting hard for me to do it.”

“Well, you’re the size of a whale, I’m surprised you’re moving as much as you are. ” He shrugged as you made a face at his compliment. He took notice and frowned. “What? You are!”

“I guess I’ll take the compliment, but Buggy, people usually don’t want to be compared to something like a whale, so… try a different animal.”

“What? Whales are beautiful, so it’s a compliment!” Buggy shot back, his face flushing as he walked over and knelt in front of you, pushing your skirt up to your knees before he started to unlace your shoes. You reached down to tug on his hair to get his attention, and when he looked up you stuck your tongue out at him. He tossed your shoes aside before he started working on your socks. “You wanna use that tongue of yours for something, babe?”

“Oh hush.” You crossed your arms and leaned back in the chair, looking over at the washtub. You strummed your fingers against your arm as you considered your next question. “So, um, did you still want an answer to your earlier question?”

Buggy placed your socks with your shoes and looked up at you with an unreadable expression. He stood up and sent his hand to the tub to check on the water temperature, it felt fine so he held his dry hand out to you. You wondered why he was so quiet suddenly, wondering what he was thinking as he led you over to it and started to help you undress. He was kind enough to drape your clothes over the chair to keep them from getting dirty on the floor, even helping you step into the tub.

“Yea, I want an answer.” He said as he grabbed a clean washcloth from the pile of towels and dipped it into the water. “Your mom ran an orphanage?”

“It’s what she wanted us to call her.” You shivered when he brought the cloth to your back, running it across your shoulders. You collected your hair, pulling it away to give him better access, now wishing you put it up first. “I don’t… really remember much, but she says I was three when my parents left me there at the orphanage.”

You felt him pause, the water dripping from the cloth and onto your skin, rolling down your back. You glanced over your shoulder at him. “You good?”

He only nodded, his mind spinning as he took in what you just told him. He turned his attention to your back once more, putting a hand on your hip to keep you steady as his other hand wiped the cloth over your back. “Why were you left there?”

“I used to wonder, y’know, because I have faint memories of my parents.” You replied, shivering again at his touch. He dipped the cloth back into the water and wrung it out before moving it under your arms. “Um, said they didn’t want me. Said that they always wanted a little boy, but then they had me first and… kept me around until they had my little brother a few years later.”

Buggy inhaled sharply and you looked over at him again. It was surprising to see him mad, but given what you just told him, you figured it stirred up memories about Darby’s situation. You reached back and touched his cheek, his gaze softening a bit as he sighed.

“You don’t have to keep telling me.” He mumbled. “You’ve said a lot.”

“It wasn’t the worst place, Mama did what she could. She wasn’t cruel to us. Tried her best to take care of us.” You continued as you turned around to face him. “Sometimes we went hungry, and sometimes we were cold, but she tried. I learned to bake and cook from her, and when I got older I helped take care of the little ones that were left with her.”

“Stop talking.” Buggy snapped. “You don’t have to keep telling me. Shit, it’s already depressing you don’t have parents, I don’t need to hear about the orphanage!”

“You want to get to know me, Buggy, so I'm telling you, okay?!” You shot back.

“I don't want to hear about it!” He said, throwing the washcloth into the tub as he pulled away from you. “I can't listen to this.”

You glared at him as you started to reach to pick up the washcloth, but being off balance already from the baby and where the washcloth ended up made it difficult to grab it. You felt yourself start to fall forward out of the tub but Buggy was there to stop you, catching you and pulling you upright to steady you. You grabbed onto his arms for balance until you were upright. There was a moment of silence, the water in the tub no longer sloshing from the sudden movements when you sighed and looked up at him.

“Buggy, you can't pick and choose what you want to know about me if you're certain you're falling in love with me.” You said firmly as you kept a hold on him, feeling a little unsure about letting go just yet. He looked away from you, keeping his arms around you while his hands grabbed a towel to wrap around you.

“Just don't want to hear about orphanages, okay?” He mumbled. “I could have lost my kid to one and… makes me wonder somethin’ about this little brat that's on the way.”

“What are you wondering?” You asked as you wrapped the towel around yourself before stepping out of the tub. He was still holding onto you, not trusting your balance now even though you were fine.

“If that kid has my nose, would you have dumped them off somewhere?” He asked. “Darby’s mom was going to do that. Not only did she not want a kid, she didn't want a kid with a nose like mine, y’know, didn’t want a kid that looked like me and… what if this one has the same nose, would you have done that?”

It was hurtful he would think that, but he was guarded because of those features. You learned quickly he didn't want you touching his nose, whether on accident or even to kiss it. Darby wasn't sensitive like his dad about his nose, but you had already seen how protective he was over his son. He probably wasn't aware his nose made him look different from other kids.

“No.” You sighed. “I wouldn't have done that, Buggy.”

You pulled away from him to grab your clothes. It was a little frustrating your bath was cut short but neither of you were in a great headspace right then. You pulled your skirt and top back on before looking back at him.

“Maybe I should sleep in my room tonight, Buggy.”

“Why?” He demanded. “You know that mattress is shit for your back.”

“I think you need to collect yourself and I need a breather.” You told him as you collected the damp towels to hang up. Buggy shook his head and crossed his arms as he frowned at you.

“I don't want to.” He said stubbornly. “Besides, Darby will be upset if you're not in there.” He looked away, itching his cheek before glancing back at you. “I’m not used to sleeping alone now.”

“Boundaries, remember?” You told him. “I think a night apart would be good and I need you to respect that.”

He didn't like the idea, he liked having you in his bed at night, but if he wanted to keep you around then he probably needed to listen to your needs. He was sulking, giving you a dismissive wave as he looked away from you. You managed not to roll your eyes as you patted him on the shoulder and walked out of the kitchen, leaving him by himself.

#buggy the clown #birdie x buggy #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x you #buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x you #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy x oc #one piece oc

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absurdthirst · 2 years

Text

Through the Eyes of the Wolf {Werewolf!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: NON-CON, monster fucking, rough sex, breeding, oral sex (female receiving), pregnancy, animal instincts

Comments: Full Moon told through the eyes of the wolf.

A/N: Part of The Wolf Series

**This is also a part of @clydesducktape The Moon In May Writing Challenge Week 1 (May 1-7) : Scent

DEAD DOVE - DO NOT EAT: This is a monster fucking fic. If you can’t handle the fact that non-con is a part of this, please roll on by.

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The road from China was just as perilous, if not more so, that the trip east. Without the added protection of the number of men they had started with, Tovar and William had relied on each other through the miles of desert and forest, unfriendly villages and passing travelers.

On guard and watchful for bandits and thieves that would try to prey on them. Even in their armor. Men with greater numbers would think that the two would be easy targets to rob. Although they didn't have much to steal, beyond the gifts they had been given from China. Still without the illusive black powder they had searched for, but they had their skills and their lives.

Until that forest. That night would forever be imprinted in his mind. The mist that seemed to shroud the trees, the moonlight hauntingly bright through the dense canopy. It was a curse, an omen and still in his eagerness to see the next village, the next hot meal, he hadn’t listened to the warning in his gut. He has survived to Tao Tei, feeling invisible to whatever creature roamed in this forest and made his horse try to shy away.

The attack had been fierce, bitten by the wolf before William could put an arrow through its eye and then Tovar had managed to split its skull open with his ax.

The wound wasn’t deadly, annoying and festering but it wasn’t deadly. He had grumbled and cursed, making sure to clean the wound. He didn’t want to end up like so many men they lost to infection from wounds on the way to the wall.

Except, it healed within days. Astounding William and him when he had checked it to find pink skin scarred over but closed. The hint of infection that had burned a fever in his stubborn body for two days was gone.

It was lucky he had decided to turn back. William, that is. Less than a week after Tovar had healed, the Irishman had confessed that he wanted to go back to the Wall. To see if those feelings he had for Lin could become something. He hadn’t argued, the strangeness of the minute changes in his body overwhelming him. He could smell his friend’s unhappiness. The melancholy stunk worse than the weeks without a proper bath or washing of clothes.

He had clapped his friend on the back and wished him well, giving him what provisions that he could spare, which was most of them since he was heading towards more villages than William.

It had been slightly freeing to have the other man gone. The strangeness of his situation was starting to wear on him. He smelled so much. He had never particularly noticed how different trees smelled, or the slight waft of flesh when an animal was close. Especially if that animal was a carnivore. His pace had slowed down, the need to travel hard suddenly vaguely unimportant. The slight deviation in his trail unknowingly brings him back to those woods. To where he had killed the beast that had attacked him.

Now the area had a scent. Rotten and yet there were the notes of something familiar. Something that smells similar to himself. Faint as if fading away with every day that passes. A territorial urge leaps up inside him, gripping him tightly and making him feel as though these woods are his. Everything in them belonged to him, to prey on. This was his hunting ground.

****

One month after his attack, Pero groaned, body struck with pain as he clawed at his leathers. The armor felt suffocating and the need to be stripped down bare was overwhelming. Choking him as he manages to strip down. Hands shaking uncontrollably while he unbuckles the straps and he’s gasping in pain by the time he manages to pull the thick armor off his body.

Collapsing next to the fire at the entrance of the cave. The village a few miles away had provided him with a place to restock supplies although he had plenty of game he would kill. His horse whinnied and reared up when he started to growl, terrified of what was happening to his human. The full silvery moon shining down through the trees as he transforms into the beast.

****

Months, maybe even years pass. Tovar’s entire existence centers around this one time of the month. The time where the inner monster comes clawing out of his flesh, springing from his very soul and transforming him into the beast.

He roams the woods, stalks them. They are his home, he’s tied to them and everything in them is his. Especially under the large, pale moon. When the beast inside him took control. While he was human he could feel the wolf under the surface, simmering and sometimes nudging him towards the things the creature wanted. The cave burrowed deep in the forest that he had turned into a decent home for him when he wasn’t seven feet tall and covered with fur.

His existence is lonely, but he’s learned that he is fully cognizant while he is in wolf form, the beast completely in control and ruled by its instinct. He knows what he’s done, what he’s eaten or in some cases, who he has killed. There haven’t been many, apparently the rumors in the village have been persistent long before he took over the territory.

Every full moon he roams, stalks through the woods, sniffing and growling and the scent of men, days or hours old. He stays away from the homes that are scattered far and wide around him. Less of a chance of an accident.

****

Sniffing the air, he smells something, someone nearby. Sweet and cloying, his mouth waters when he scents her in the air. Female. The massive cock between his legs twitches as the tangy scent of her cunt fills his nostrils and makes the beast move towards the lake.

The beast in control is driven by that scent, the sweetness and ripeness of the woman calling to him. The urge to breed, to mate and fuck are all that he can think of.

Creeping closer to the lake to find the source of the smell. Yellow eyes piercing through the dark and the silvery moon hanging high in the sky illuminates the lake. Making her visible, her breasts above the water with tight nipples, the cool, refreshing water making her sigh in relief.

The small growl that rumbles from his chest doesn’t disturb her, it’s too low, although it’s predatory. His eyes narrow and his breathing changes, anticipation flooding the beast.

Time stands still, the wind non existent, keeping her scent from him. That is the only reason he doesn’t step out from the trees, and doesn't approach the lake. The tiny restraint he has keeps control of the animal instinct that is so prevalent during this night.

Until she spots him. The scream of terror clawing out of her throat reaching his ears and making him shift his weight. Watching as she scrambles out of the water and starts to run.

There is not even a split second before he gives chase. The werewolf’s build gives an advantage that no mere human could ever compete with. Tightly coiled muscles springing forward and propelling him towards her. The hunt is on and she is the prize.

He feels the lust skyrocket in his system, taking over and making his attention narrow. The fear and adrenaline pouring off of her and making him harden, even as he gallops after her. A combination of two footed and two legged sprints. He’s toying with her. The way that she races through the mossy floored forest, as if she would actually escape him, makes him growl and snarl, telling her that she wouldn’t make it to the safety of her cabin.

Tensing, the hind legs push off the ground, sending his massive frame into her, driving her to the mossy floor of the forest, pinning her down under his weight. Needing to smell her, his open mawl presses against her neck, inhaling the sweat, the fear and the pheromones.

She’s in heat. Breedable. The animal that has completely taken over and leaves the humanity behind screams that this female is his. His to take, to breed and fill with his seed. To bury it deep within the confines of her womb and have it take root. His teeth close around her neck, as if she were another wolf, holding her by the scruff while his cock hardens even more.

Until she moves, bucking up and struggling to escape his grip. Resisting the idea of being mounted and he cannot have that. His growl pours out of his chest, a warning, his jaw firming up around her neck.

She freezes, yielding to him and his instincts clamor with approval. The position that she has wiggled into makes it easier to hold onto her neck while his hips shuttle forward, cock poking and dragging along the warm, smooth skin as he tries to find his target.

Her sounds make his hips ruck into her ass harder, the whimpers of submission soothing to the beast and making it eager to claim her. Finally, his cock finds her cunt and he lets go of her neck to throw his head back and howl as he pushes deep inside her body.

Hot, she’s fucking hot and tight. Her scream pierces his ears but the beast doesn’t care. Focused on the way that the thigh walls cave, yielding to his thrusts as he pulls back and drives into her again. The sole focus being on flooding her cunt with his seed and impregnating her.

He snarls, panting and his claws dig into the earth, picking one massive hand up to slam it back down near her face as his body covers her. Hunched over her possessively while his hips rut frantically. His entire being feels as though this is a race. He needs to mate her before another wolf can push him off, even if there isn’t another of his kind for hundreds of miles.

He hears the sounds, slick and wet as her body warms up to him. The drag of his cock not nearly as tight in the walls of her cunt. Rocking harder into her and pushing her along the floor with every unforgiving thrust even as he keeps her trapped under him.

The acrid scent of fear is still there, along with the smell of her sex, wet and wanting. Making the beast lick his chops at the scent. Still he hammers into her, close to his orgasm, feeling the seed pull up from his balls in anticipation of painting her womb and filling her with his pups.

She screams again. Her cunt locking down around him like a vice and the beast snarls while he continues to fuck her. Close enough that his cock swells even more, needing just a few more thrusts before he’s ready to blow. She sinks down into the earth, her hips still raised and her muscles relax, letting his cock push deeper. His thrusts stuttered.

Howling again, the wolf sinks as deep as he’s been, cock pulsing in pleasure. Shudders wracking the large frame while his seed pours into her. Filling her and he knows, the animal knows that he will breed her. Tonight under the large moon, surrounded by the scent of earth, the sickly sweet scent of vegetation and the water that still clings to her skin, he’s marked her as his. His scent covers her, envelops her entire being and ever creature that roams these woods will be wary.

His cock softens, starts to shrink back down to its resting size as he pulls out of her wet cunt. The scent of his cum and her juices makes him shuffle back. The thick and creamy drops of his seed sliding down her folds and he hears a small whimper when his rough tongue laps at her folds. Her body limp under it tenses under the ministrations of his tongue licking her clean of his spend and her own. Puffy lips dragged forward by the rasp of his tongue and she cums quietly, not even waking her from where she had lost consciousness.

Now that he has mated her, the instinct to care is overwhelming. The wolf still clamors to drag her off, to bring her to his den and keep her there, but the small portion of Pero that can still sway the beast fights it. She needs her own den, the comfort of her bed and the routine that she must have.

It’s easy to find her cottage. Carrying her in his large arms as if she weighed nothing, he followed the clear trail her scent left, filling his nose and the beast brushes against several trees to mark his own scent as he goes. Leaving her in her bed and disappearing into the night like the creature that he is.

****

The next full moon, the beast stalks her cottage. Scenting, marking his territory. The woods are his but this area must be covered in his scent. Growling quietly when she doesn’t leave the safety of the cabin, doesn’t come out to him. Her own scent around the clearing is the same as it was before, making him chuff and paw at the earth, wanting to get closer.

Disappearing into the woods to hunt, he brings her a gift. Meat. The deer would have satisfied his hunger, still he resisted tearing into the fresh meat. Instead he leaves it at her door. Showing that he would provide for her, the ability to hunt sharp and accurately honed. Leaving her doorstep only when the last hour of moonlight remained before dawn would take over and he would return to his human state.

****

He keeps to the shadows, watching her. Guilt for what the beast has done clamors in his chest. Pero feels guilty, even if there was no way that he could have controlled himself. He had not been the dominant being that night. The animal instincts of the wolf far outweighed any morality of humanity.

He tells himself it is to make sure he has not done any damage. That she is fine and not terrified to leave the safety of her cottage. Still, he can not help the pride swelling in his chest when she accepts his gift. Smoking meat making his mouth water as she goes about her chores. The beast inside him soothed that she is taking care of herself.

****

Her scent is changing. There were still her pheromones, but the subtle scent is there. Understated and muted, but present. Still too early to tell for certain, although the beast is positive. Pacing around the perimeter of the cottage where she slept, stalking through the trees in an endless loop for hours before he finally leaves to hunt. Catching wind of a boar.

He leaves it for her again. Forsaking his own ravenous hunger and leaving all of the animal for her. She needs the food more than he does.

****

She’s pregnant. The moment her scent is in his nostrils he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt. She is carrying his pup, his baby. The smell of her, of his seed is heavy around the cottage, fresh. She might not even be aware yet, although he is.

The werewolf growls, possessive desire and the need to protect, flooding his entire body and making him walk into the clearing. The moon is heavy in the sky, illuminating the small garden where she grows her vegetables and the stumps of trees that have been chopped down.

Instead of prowling around the perimeter, the creature goes right up to the door, sniffing it thoroughly before plopping himself down on the ground in front of it. Nothing would get inside to get her, they would have to go through him first and the beast would fight until its last breath.

Sitting vigil all night, listening for the sound of anything approaching and only laying its massive head down in that hour before the sun comes up.

****

Her shriek wakes him. The first few moments of consciousness after he has changed back are always disorienting. Remembering who he is and what had happened the night before. The mental check to remember what form he is in. Although this time it is more that he is searching for some kind of threat.

When he sees that there is nothing, he turns to look at her. Unconcerned with his lack of grooming and nudity. Since being the wolf, he has found that he is comfortable in his bare skin, although he still wears clothes away from his den.

He can see the questions in your eyes, the wariness not as intense as he expected but he wants to explain why he is here. “I am Pero Tovar.” He croaks out, hating how rusty his vocal chords are at forming words. He rarely speaks when he goes to the village. His heart starts to pound, priding swelling inside him. “You are carrying my seed.”

MasterList

#pedro pascal #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #werewolf au #werewolf pero #tw noncon #tw non con #monster fucking #tw monsterfucking

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 25

Chapter 24

Masterlist

By order of the queen, the boy Ivan, after his injured ankle was treated by one of the maesters, was escorted by servants to a room which contained a tub filled with hot water. Viserys had decided the boy would be a companion to the princes, but since Aegon, Aemond, and Jace were still in trouble for sneaking out of the keep and the events that followed, Alicent had decided Ivan would work in the kitchens for the time being. Ivan would also be given a separate room that differed from the servants' quarters.

"Are you literate, Ivan?" the queen had asked of him. "I can read somewhat," Ivan nods, "my mother taught me." Alicent nodded, and left the room so as to give the boy some privacy to bathe. A couple of servants had come in with soap, towels, and a change of clothes that were deemed more suitable for Ivan's new station. Ivan didn't begin to undress until he was completely alone. He didn't even take off his hat. When he was in the tub, he washed as quickly as he could in case anyone tried to come in during his bath. He scrubbed vigorously and quickly got out, dried himself, and put on his new clothes. He wanted to put his hat back on, but had a feeling it wouldn't be appropriate with his new ensemble. He looked around and noticed the curtains by the window. The material was thick enough to cover his ears at least.

Ivan took a risk and tore some of the material and fashioned it into a headband to cover the tips of his ears. If anyone came to draw the curtains and noticed the tear, he would claim coincidence should they point out his headband. If that didn't work, he would claim he had a hideous scar that required him to hide it from others. The servants would surely understand as if there was one thing they knew about nobles, was that they preferred to cover their physical flaws rather than show them off.

Meanwhile, Aemma was confined to her room, as were Aegon, Aemond, and Jaecerys. Alicent was understandably furious at the children's misjudgement, mostly at Aegon for putting his brother and future queen at risk, and at Aemma for disobeying her. Since Viserys had left the disciplining up to his wife, Alicent had decided the children would be confined to their rooms for the next two weeks to contemplate what they have done, only to leave for lessons and to partake in their meals, in which they would be escorted by Ser Criston or any of the guards under his command. If it were fully up to Alicent, though, she would've had the children confined for a full month, except for Aemond who would've only be punished for a week. Rhaenyra however had felt Aegon should've been confined for two months due to putting Jace at risk with his vodka and that Jace should not be punished as she saw her son as the victim in Aemma and the boys' misadventure. In the end, Viserys grew tired of his wife's and daughter's bickering and had them compromise as a result.

During this time, an investigation was also held concerning the Velen merchant. His ship and goods were seized and people at the docks were thoroughly question. Upon further inspection, and learning that many of these goods were brought in from Novigrad, letters were sent to the authorities with the merchant's name. When correspondence came back, it was learned this merchant was wanted in both Redania and Temeria for illegal shipments of various contraband which included trafficking of fisshtech. There did not seem to be much concern, however, over the enslavement of the elven women as for the fact that elves on the Continent are seen as less then, the merchant also claimed these she-elves were once part of the Scoia'tel and would've been raped and executed anyway if they were handed over to the Nordling soldiers. There were questions over whether the human actors were there against their will, but this did not seem to be the case.

When the merchant was interrogated in the dungeons, he confessed in tears of his crimes. The man apparently had come on hard times due to losing money to excess gambling. He had been in crippling debt and owed money to several banks, he needed to find a way to pay off his debt and still make ends meet. In addition, the merchant had begged that if he were to be tried and judged, then he would prefer Westerosi justice over Redanian or Temerian. Viserys ultimately had the man deported back to Temeria; seeing that the merchant is Temerian and that he was a wanted man there, it seemed fitting that he should be tried in his own native country. All this to the dismay of the merchant.

As for the merchant's supposed accomplices, the ones who knew of the merchant's shady side business were also deported back to Temeria. The elven women were given a chance to start a new life in King's Landing, but if elves had a rough time on the Continent, it was doubly so in Westeros, given that most of these people have never even seen elf or probably even know what an elf was. Needless to say, the pointed ears were very off-putting to the locals, and the most the elven women could do was either be hired as laundresses in Flea Bottom, or work in that one exotic pillow house on the Street of Silk. In the end, the elves elected to return to the Continent by ship and make the long trek to Dol Blathana where they would be granted asylum there.

Anyway, back to the main plot line.

During the children's punishment, Aemma kept busy with her books, though she had regrettably dropped the book she purchased back at the docks, the one that was going to teach her Elder speech. When servants came to bring her tea, one of them handed her a book, "from Prince Aemond, my princess." Aemma recognized the book right away, grateful that Aemond was able to save this for her. She quickly wrote a note thanking her cousin, and had the servant send it to him. When the prince in question received the note, he had a smile on his face, happy that his cousin received the book. He could only imagine the look on Aemma's face, excited that she was going to learn how to speak elven. Aemond, meanwhile read the book he bought for himself, the one on the teachings on the Eternal Fire. Also fortunately for Aemond, Alicent had copies of the Seven Pointed Star send to each of the children's room so as to further contemplate on their wrongdoings. For Aemond, he saw this as an opportunity to conduct that comparative study he wanted to do between the two faiths. As for the other two boys, Jace had regular visits from Luke, Laenor, and Rhaenyra and Aegon had his explicit pamphlets to keep him company. Worth mentioning Aegon's average number of jerk off times during those two weeks was about 12 times per day (this was also when Aegon discovered the euphoria of jerking himself to the wind while standing out the window).

When the two weeks of this strict punishment was concluded, Aemma and the boys were allowed out of their rooms and first thing Aemma was did was run to the dragon pit to go for a ride on Cirillia, who was more then eager to get outside and stretch her wings. During that time, Helaena was out flying on Dreamfyre, and the girl was more then happy to see Aemma out as a free princess. The two even had a little race across the skies.

Also once the boys were allowed to leave their rooms, Ivan was taken out of the kitchens to fulfill his new role. The princes were a little apprehensive about Ivan at first, even little Luke when he was first introduced.

This was especially when they all took notice of the headband Ivan was sporting. "What's with the headband?" Aegon scoffs. "I have a scar," Ivan tries to explain, "it's...very disfiguring, I wouldn't want to offend the princes' sensitivities. Or the princess' either," he nods towards Aemma and Helaena, whom at that moment were enjoying some fresh air while practicing their embroidery. "It can't be that hideous," Aegon scoffs again, actually reaching a hand out to pull at the scarf, but Ivan back away. "You know, Ivan, as a prince, I could command you to take it off so I may see for myself," Aegon points out. "Aegon," Aemma, who had rushed over when she saw Aegon harassing Ivan, scolds, "he clearly doesn't want to, there's no need to goad him." "Oh, you're not all that curious as to what he is hiding?" "Even if I am, it's none of our business," Aemma huffs, "not unless he wants to tell us."

Aegon only shook his head, turned and left. "I apologize for my cousin," Aemma says to Ivan, "he's...not all that tactful with his words." "He is rather bold, I'll give him that," Ivan mutters. "You can be honest with me, Ivan," Aemma assures, "I won't tell." "Alright," Ivan says, "your cousin is a bit of an ass." Aemma laughed out loud at that statement, which made Ivan laugh too. "Yeah he kind of is," she agrees, "and lucky me, I'll have to marry him someday." "You're...to marry Prince Aegon?" Ivan's eyes widen. "Unfortunately so," Aemma sighs, "We had been betrothed since we were mere tots. But it won't be until after a while anyway, at least not until after my uh, first flowering." "Still, my condolences," Ivan says. "I'll be fine, I can handle myself against Aegon if I have to," Aemma assures.

"So, you're from the Continent," Aemma changes the subject. "From Aedirn, princess," Ivan nods. "Do you remember anything about that place?" "Not much, if I'm being honest," Ivan admits, "I was still a child when mother and I left. It was a small fishing village, that much I do remember. Called Flotsam." "Strange name," Aemma says, "will you walk with me, Ivan? I wish to know more." Throughout that day, Aemma asked questions and Ivan answered as best he could, the two making small talk in between.

"You really seem rather fascinated with this Continental stuff," Ivan points out, "Why is that so?" Before Aemma could answer, she hears her name being called out by Aemond who moved in between her and Ivan, "mother is looking for you," he tells her, making Aemma widen her eyes, "oh, I uh, I better go then. Don't want to keep her Grace waiting again." "I'll walk with you," Ivan answers. "I can escort the princess," Aemond insists, giving Ivan a rather threatening look, which didn't really feel all that threatening given the prince's age. Ivan backed away nevertheless, "I guess I will see you again sometime soon, princess."

"You didn't need to be so rude towards Ivan," Aemma scolds as she and Aemond walk back to the keep. Aemond only scoffs at that, "you shouldn't be so trusting with that...stranger," he says. "He's not a stranger," Aemma insists, "not anymore. And he did save my life. He's been living on the streets since his mother died and they both were practically refugees given what they went through in their village-" "How do you even know he was telling the truth?" Aemond points out, "Aemma, you don't even know who Ivan really is, even if he did risk his life to save yours." "...ugh, you're not actually siding with Aegon about that are you?" Aemma rolls her eyes, "the scar he hides behind his headband?" "I don't agree about that," Aemond assures, "but Aegon is on to something about Ivan hiding something. I'm...if he is, I just don't want you getting hurt."

Aemma placed a hand on Aemond's shoulder, "you don't have to worry about me, Aemond. I can handle myself. I won't fall apart so easily. I am to wed Aegon someday soon after all." Aemond was still reluctant, but nodded. Truthfully, while Aemond did have some misgivings about Ivan, the prince also wasn't all that comfortable with how close Aemma had gotten with the boy. It made him feel things he didn't really like.

Aemond and Aemma met up with Alicent, who gave Aemma several letters. The princess accepted the letters and read them in silence. It was from her family: her father, stepmother, and a letter that was written by both of her sisters.

Daemon, Laena, and the twins had spent some time traveling in different places on Essos, and now they were actually on the Continent, in the kingdom of Redanian to be exact. The family had been greeted and hosted by the king, Radovid. Impressed by their dragons, Radovid had requested a demonstration which Daemon and Laena both obliged riding laps around the king's castle astride Caraxes and Vhagar. The demonstration was then followed by a feast to welcome Radovid's guest.

The family plans to stay for the time being as long as the Redanian king will have them. In Baela and Rhaena's letter, the twins had also written about overhearing Radovid discuss marriage talks with Daemon; apparently the king was currently looking for a wife and knew that Aemma was Daemon's eldest daughter. When asked of that potential prospect, Daemon declined, informing the king that Aemma had already been promised to another. Aemma had to laugh a little at that; she didn't know much about Radovid, but she had a feeling maybe he would've made a better match then Aegon currently. Then Radovid had suggested either Baela or Rhaena as a potential match; Baela would be preferable in the Redanian king's eyes since she has a dragon of her own, and of course the man would wait until either of the girls came of age before they wed and bed.

Far as Aemma could read, Daemon had informed Radovid he would consider the offer, but he had assured the girls they would not have to wed the man.

Aemma's reading was interrupted when she felt Alicent place a hand on her shoulder, "you father had sent you a gift for your upcoming nameday," she informs. Sure enough, the queen hands the princess a box wrapped with lace ribbon. Aemma goes to open the small box and notices it was a necklace, "it's made of silver," she observes, "like my mother's dagger."

"It's very pretty," Aemond states. "Can you help me put it on then?" Aemma asks. Aemond nods as Aemma lifts her hair up so he could place the jewelry around her neck and clasp it. "How does it look?" Aemma asks. Aemond had to stare for a bit before he realized Aemma had asked him a question, "Oh, uh...it looks good...Gevie." "It is beautiful," Alicent nods, "and Aemond, since the princess is receiving her gifts already, I may as well give you yours."

It is worth noting, Aemma and Aemond both shared a nameday. Aemma had turned four years old the day Aemond was born. It had become a little something of a tradition for the two to receive gifts together and sit together during their nameday feast. It was a time for the family to come together as well as the noble lords and ladies. It is also worth noting, that the nameday celebrations had recently become smaller for Aemma and Aemond, due to confusion from the nobles whom believed these two were also betrothed (and this was something that still continued even after Aemma's betrothal to Aegon was made official).

Now with their next nameday approaching, Aemond would finally be ten years and Aemma would be ten-and-four. Aemma wasn't so sure how to feel about this. She knew as she got older, the chances of her first flowering would soon happen as well. That wasn't really something she was looking forward to all that much as when the moment that day came, it would mean she would no longer be a girl. She would be considered a woman, and one that would be fit to marry Aegon and give him his children.

Aemma wouldn't worry about that right now. Instead, she put those thoughts aside and addressed the queen, "will there be honey cake at our nameday, your Grace?" Alicent gave a small smile and placed a hand on Aemma's shoulder, "of course," she assures, "just like every year."

Right at that moment, a messenger arrived with a letter in hand, "your Grace," he says, "this...this message came all this way...from the Continent." Frowning in confusion, Alicent took the letter and slowly opened it, reading it carefully.

Once she finished, Alicent closed the letter, placing a mouth over her mouth. "Mother?" Aemond speaks up, concerned for his mother. He took a look at the letter Alicent was still holding, "what was in the letter?" Alicent pulled the letter away. "It was from the Continent, is it?" Aemma asks, "is it...is it about my mother?"

Alicent said nothing, knowing staring off like at a distance. Aemond snuck the letter away from his mother and handed it to Aemma. Aemma looked at the message, not even sure she wanted to read it. Scared, she opened the letter and slowly read through it. As she continued to do so, her hands started to shake, tears threatening to slip out of her eyes. "Aemma?" she barely hears Aemond's voice.

Her hands shake some more and she drops the letter, letting the tears slip out as she ran out back to her chambers. Aemond picked up the letter to see what it was that had both his mother so distraught and his cousin so upset. He then understood only after he read it.

On the Continent, in the South, a riot had broken out in the kingdom of Rivia, a pogrom as it were. With the war against Nilfgaard concluded, people had grown discontent with the growing poverty and had decided to target their anger at the most vulnerable, those being non-humans and witches. Many died during this riot...among those who counted among the dead was a bardess who went by the name the Lady of Larks. She had been found amongst the corpses laying next to the White Wolf who had apparently taken a pitch fork to the gut that must've surely killed him.

The message also added that though the deaths of Lady (y/n) and Geralt of Rivia had been confirmed among others, their bodies were never found.

Aemond knew then what this meant for Aemma...she would never see her mother again...and she would never have the chance to exact her vengeance on the man who stole her away in the first place.

Chapter 26

#hotd #the witcher #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #oc #crossover #jacerys velaryon #laena velaryon #laenor velaryon #lucerys velaryon #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia

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some27-url · 2 years

Note

Oh! For the emoji game, what about 💙💞💋 and🚪for our boy MacCready? (You definitely don't have to do all of them, but I figured I'd give you options 😅) And I hope you get a chance to get some good rest tonight! You deserve it after these crazy past few days ❤️

Thank you so much! I'm certainly going to try especially because I have to work tomorrow which means walking a million dogs and I really can't be too tired for that 😂😭😭

💙— How do they say/show that they miss their partner?

I feel like Mac is big into quality time. Once he's established with his partner and they spend some time apart, he'll want to come together at the end of that and do something fun or relaxing, or even just carrying out a care task with them like cooking dinner, unpacking and sorting their laundry from their trip, or 'helping' them take a bath. 😉

If it's a companion to whom he hasn't admitted his interest or attachment yet - say, a sole who leaves him in sanctuary to travel with another companion - then this looks like him finding an excuse to set up nearby wherever they are once they get back, cleaning his rifle or flipping through a comic as he injects himself into Sole's conversations, or settling into a meal next to them at the common house.

💞— Are they a big cuddler? What is cuddling them like?

Skin to skin is important in childhood development and as such, children crave that shit. That's why I HC that the Little Lamplight kids cuddled a lot. Like, I think Mac grew up in an environment where platonic cuddling was a given. Everyone did it, and it wasn't even a little bit weird.

Becoming a merc, obviously, shoved him in the complete opposite direction and after Lucy was killed, and especially after leaving Duncan in the CW, he became severely touch starved.

Becoming Mac's partner means touching every moment that you can get away with it. Cuddling in bed is full body, arms wrapped around each other like a drowning man clutching a life raft cuddling. Washing a dish means he's got his arms wrapped around you from behind. Packing bullets means one of you has your feet up in the other's lap while you do it. It's constant.

💋— What are their kisses like?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Mac is a hopeless romantic. His kisses are like a window into his soul. Soft and earnest for when he's feeling content. Cheeky and playful when he feels endeared. Heavy and almost overwhelming when he's feeling anxious.

🚪— What would kill their trust in their partner/close them off? Could this ever be amended?

I feel like cheating is a really obvious answer. Like, cheating is gonna upset anyone, yeah? I guess the difference is that some people may stay with a cheating partner out of fear of being alone, desperation to keep things from changing. I feel like Mac would NOT be one of those people. If you were in a closed, exclusive relationship with him and you cheated? He wouldn't be able to abide that kind of betrayal.

Worse than that, though? If you ever did anything that endangered a child, had the potential to come back and hurt a child, knowingly orphaned a child, refused to help a child in need? That's fucking curtains on your relationship.

Ask me about my characters (or Fallout 4 Companions!)

If you're new here and like what you read, you can read my Mac/f!sosu story here.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfiction #fo4 #writing #rj maccready

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dark9896 · 1 year

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Second-in [Head Cannon]

Requested by @oo00oo00ooooo 👮

(Side Note, tagging doesn't work if the blogs are devoid of posts but that won't stop me from having the right user name on here <3)

Klaus x Police Lieutenant - married (also fem)

Every morning, sitting with a cup of coffee/ tea and just mentally preparing for the day

If you've had a long night, he is extra careful to not wake you up

Given that you stir every. single. time. Klaus always leaves with a soft kiss to your forehead, playfully acts like he isn't in arm's reach, and lets you have the "victory" of pulling him back down for a quick peck on the lips

He is always watching the news when you're on patrol or just in the office. Though he can't get involved if Libra isn't invited

It pains him to have to be like this, because he doesn't want you getting hurt, but he also doesn't want to cost you your job

When he is able to be in the fray, he is protecting you with every fiber of his being, far better than the metal suits that's for sure

During collab briefings, he is extremely professional, something Daniel tries calling out but you shoot that down real fast

Daniel, on the other hand, will not stop pestering you about being with "one of them" and asking if that's why you keep vouching for them to the Chief/ Commissioner

Klaus has, on a number of occasions, asked you specifically not to do so if it becomes a risk to your job

Every once in a while, you force Daniel into silence (by flustering Klaus) simply by suggesting that he (Daniel) is just jealous of you for dating Klaus

Calling Klaus a "very cute/ handsome criminal" also shuts everyone up for a few minutes

Daniel is always giving you an earful afterward

Klaus can and will (has several times by now) sent flowers or chocolates or a small gift basket (especially for Valentine's Day, your birthday, and Christmas/ other important holidays) just because he can get away with it by sending it "anonymously"

That's probably the only time Daniel doesn't complain about your relationship in general (cause he's too busy enjoying the bribe you gave to keep quiet... when it's edible of course)

If/ when you two have a day off together, Klaus is full of cuddles. He just wants to make up for "lost" time and make sure you know how beloved you are

Naturally, Klaus wants to pamper you for all your hard work (even though it's arguable that you work equally hard... Klaus very likely has the lead in that sense) and will insist on almost daily/nightly back rubs and massages (double if a certain area [ie your leg] is stiff from doing your job)

He is easily flustered and overpowered when you want to return the favor (and his affections) and will gladly accept the clause "I get to do to you whatever you do to me"

On the nights when you come home exhausted beyond reason, Klaus is ready with tea/ hot cocoa, a hot meal, a warm bath, fuzzy blankets, and the coziest pajamas you own... (you are going to be cuddled, do not resist)

Spicy: If you wear a 'sexy' policeman/woman suit... Klaus will compliment you by saying you always look sexy to him (especially in your uniform)

Spicy: Yes Klaus will concede to wearing a prisoner uniform and cuffs if you'd like, but he can break the cuffs... you have been warned

#kkss #kekkai sensen #bbb #blood blockade battlefront #klaus von reinherz #ask

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gracefulsunflower · 2 years

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CONTRARY - FINN SHELBY X READER; PART 13

PUBLISHED: 27/05/2022

!!FIRST PART HERE!!

Part 1

MASTERLIST

READER'S POV

I had been here for about five days. I think. Assuming that the meals they had been bringing me were when they had their breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I hadn't killed any Italians, but I did maim the one who knocked me unconscious in Watery Lane, when he brought me my lunch the other day. Luca hadn't been too pleased when he found out, but he did agree that he didn't say anything about not maiming any of his men.

I was sitting on the floor, drawing on the wall with a piece of chalk Luca had given me. I would lose my mind if I was stuck down here with nothing to do. There wasn't even any windows. The air felt staler than bread that had been left out.

I heard the door unlock, and spun around on the spot. Luca was coming down the stairs, no tray full of food in hand.

"Is it breakfast already?" I questioned, feeling confused.

I had woken up a while ago, but I was sure that breakfast wasn't for a bit.

"Not yet," Luca informed me, coming to stand in front of me, putting his hands into his pocket, "For your good behaviour, ignoring that one incident, I've decided to grant you a wish."

"Let me go home?" I remarked, making him chuckle.

"Something more doable." Luca stated, looking down at me and waiting for my answer.

"Can — Can I be put into a room with windows?" I inquired, trying push the feelings of hopefulness away.

"Yes. We've got a room ready upstairs for you." Luca replied, "Your ma said you would want that."

I frowned. They already had me, why would they want her around?

Luca reached a hand out, and I ignored it, pushing off the floor and standing up, feeling a bit unsteady on my feet. He turned and lead me upstairs, into the living room, the room with the phone. Some men were sitting around the coffee table playing cards. I quickened my pace, wanting to get away from them.

He lead me to the corner of the room, then put a bit of pressure on a panel, stepping to the side then taking his hand off of it, making it swing back.

He lead me up the narrow staircase, and we ended up in a corridor of doors. He showed me my new room, the door second on the left.

He unlocked the door, both the deadbolt, which had been reversed so that the keyhole was on the inside, and the regular door lock, which had also been reversed.

"You gonna try to escape?" Luca asked lazily as he opened the door.

"No. It's not worth it," I replied, scowling.

If I did have a clear chance to escape though, I wouldn't hesitate.

"Bathroom's through there." Luca stated, knocking on the door to his left, "You share it with the room on the other side of it. That room happens to be my room. Don't worry, I don't like little girls."

I'd be stupid to take his word. He said no kids, but yet here I am, locked up at God knows where.

I walked into the room, looking around. The window had been painted black, from the outside, so I couldn't see out. I could see that it was cracked a tiny bit at the bottom to let fresh air through. To the left of the window, against the left wall, next to the bathroom door was a chest of drawers and a small mirror sat on top of it, along with a hairbrush and some hair ties, and ribbon.

There was a double bed with a plain white blanket and pillows in the far corner, a bedside table next to it. A small stool sat next to the beside table, a blue, soft looking towel folded up on it.

"I have razors in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror if you want to shave, however, I'll be expecting them all back in one piece. If not, I know a few of my men think that you're pretty enough." Luca announced, making my blood run cold.

I walked into the bathroom, and found a clawfoot bathtub in the left corner closest to Luca's room, a shower to my left, and a toilet to my right. I could see a towel on the rack behind Luca's door. In between the tub and the shower was a small cupboard which I assumed was the cupboard for towels. There was a sink in the right corner, opposite the bath. On the sink, I could see female shampoo, body wash, and conditioner.

"I won't let any of my men touch you, Mrs Shelby. Unless you give me good reason to." Luca declared, coming to watch me look through the medicine cabinet and grab a razor.

"I'll leave you to it." Luca announced, turning on his heel and walking out of the bedroom, locking the door behind him.

I dropped the razor into the tiled floor. I couldn't get to the window fast enough, dropping onto my knees and trying to look out of the tiny sliver that let in fresh air. I could see rolling green fields, and a road in front of us. It was a dirt road. The sun was only beginning to rise.

"Fuck!" I hissed.

I had no idea where I was. They were smart not to let me near a clock. If I had seen one when I woke up I could figure out where I might be, and how far away I was from Birmingham.

I tried pushing the window up, to no avail. I looked around the edges of the window. I could see dried glue coming out of the joints.

Fuck me.

I decided to go have a shower, feeling utterly filthy. I probably stunk worse than Bonnie after he finished a boxing match.

I walked back into my room, and grabbed my towel, throwing it over my shoulder then heading to the dresser. I opened the top drawer. Sundresses. I shut that drawer, and looked for other clothing. The other three drawers were completely empty.

Unbelievable.

I went back to the top drawer, and found a pale yellow sundress.

"It'll have to do," I decided, heading to the bathroom.

I started the shower, letting the water heat up as I went and grabbed the brush from the dresser. I picked up the razor, and locked both doors leading to the bathroom. I grabbed the stuff off of the sink and placed it into the shower, happy that I didn't have to smell manly. It'd feel weird, especially while I was in a dress.

I stripped off and hopped into the shower, brush and razor in hand. I didn't waste any time putting the conditioner into my hair, then pulling my hair up into a bun. My hair was knotted badly, but nothing the brush and some patience wouldn't be able to fix.

I began washing myself with the body wash, then lathering it onto my legs. I picked up the razor and started carefully shaving my legs, not wanting to nick them. I hated leg hair. I couldn't stand it, and I couldn't stand other people's leg hair touching my legs. Once, I made Bonnie shave his legs so he could sleep in my bed when one of our uncles had to sleep in his vardo. I chuckled at the memory, Bonnie being livid that I 'stripped him of his God given right to hairy legs'.

Once I was done, I shaved my underarms. I hated hair there, too. It was annoying. I washed the razor, then placed it on the small ledge in front of me. I picked up my brush, and pulled my hair over my shoulder, starting to detangle my hair at the bottom, then slowly working my way up. Once it was knot free I grabbed some shampoo, then applied that, then some more conditioner.

I cleaned under my nails too, having been surprised at how quick they grew without me chewing them. I'd have to ask Ezzie to paint my nails when I saw her next. I can't paint nails, I never did it enough to gain good ability.

I turned the shower off, then grabbed my towel and dried myself quickly, wrapping the towel around my body to shield myself in case anyone came into the bathroom. I wrung my hair out in the shower, then I stepped on my dirty shirt and used it to keep the floor dry as I shuffled along to the small cupboard next to the shower. I opened it, and grabbed the purple towel on top of the pile. I wrapped my hair up in it, then grabbed my under layers, putting them on then putting on the pale yellow sundress.

I dried my brush with the blue towel, knowing I'd probably use it again soon to pull my hair back somehow. I always pulled my hair back when I was in trouble, because no hair would fall into my eyes if I had to fight.

I put my blue towel onto the towel rack on the door leading to my room, then gathered my clothes and took them back to my room. I folded them up and placed them neatly on my bed. I unwrapped my hair from its towel turban, then started towel drying it. I could smell bacon cooking. They must be starting breakfast.

Once it was no longer overly wet, and just damp, I detangled it, then parted it in the usual spot, making sure to split it all the way down to the nape of my neck, then began braiding my hair. I walked over to the dresser and got a hair band, tying off the first one then beginning the second. Once I tied off that one I grabbed two blue ribbons, tying them around the hair bands.

I heard men chattering outside, so I peeked through the crack. They were walking away from the house. I counted ten. Arthur killed two at the warehouse. That means that there's three still here with me. I heard the locks click behind me, and quickly moved to my dresser, inspecting the ribbons on it.

The door swung open, and I looked at the man carrying the tray with my food. I recognised him as one of the men playing cards at the table.

I looked at the food on the tray. Scrambled eggs and bacon with toast on a ceramic plate, and orange juice in a glass cup. I tried to fight off a chuckle. He's obviously never plated up my food before. I had plastic plates and cups, and no utensils. Luca was smart like that.

He sat it on the bed, shutting the door behind him. I looked at him, sizing him up. Yeah, I'd be able to take him if push came to shove. I didn't know if I'd be able to take the other two, though. I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. I walked over to the bed, grabbing the glass of orange juice, then retreating to my spot in front of the dresser. I drank the orange juice in one go, feeling thirsty. He chuckled.

"You look prettier with your hair up," He mused, coming to stand in front of me.

He grabbed my hair, playing with the braids, then trailed his fingers down my bare skin to find the necklace Finn had given me. He fiddled with it, and I watched him. His eyes focused on my chest. It was inevitable. I did seem to have a chest that was on the bigger side.

My breathing became shallow as he started exploring my body with his hands, rubbing his hands up and down my sides. I grasped the glass and made sure my grip on it was tight.

"Such a pretty girl," He muttered, one hand trailing up my legs, brushing under the hem of my dress and continuing to move upwards as the other moved a thin strap of my dress off of my shoulder.

He leaned down to plant a kiss on my shoulder, and I nearly got sick as I felt something poking my thigh. He stood back up, moving to take off his belt, and I swung the glass as hard as I could onto his head, making him drop to the ground with a groan of pain, disorientated. I threw the glass at the door as hard as I could, effectively shattering it. I moved quickly, kneeling down and grabbing a shard of glass, but shrieking when the man grabbed my leg and pulled me towards him. I swung my arm backwards blindly, feeling the blade drive into him him somewhere.

He screamed in pain, then went quiet. I turned around, and he was holding a hand over his eye, which was pouring blood. I could see the glass sticking out.

I quickly checked his pockets, and found a revolver, and a car key. I grabbed my folded up clothes and boots, and ran through the bathroom into Luca's room. His door handle was normal. I strained my ears for any sound. None. I opened the door and went downstairs, kicking open the panel and found that there was no one else in the room.

I ran to the open window and climbed out of it with ease, not wanting to fuck around with locks. I couldn't see any cars, but I did spot a barn. I wouldn't have been able to see it from my room. I headed toward it, hoping that there was something to help me.

I pushed open the door, and found a car. I rolled the door right open, and tried the key in the ignition. It roared to life, making me smirk. I threw my clothes in through the window, and opened the door from the inside, hopping into the drivers seat. I pulled my coat around me, hiding the bloodstains on my dress, then reversed out of the barn, taking off. I sped down the dirt road, cheering when I hit a proper road. I followed it, and noticed some people in a field up ahead. I slowed down, making the woman look up.

Her kids started whispering to each other.

"Excuse me, miss, do you know the way to Birmingham? I lost my map a while back and I think I took a wrong turn," I rambled, "I'm meant to surprise my husband for his birthday tomorrow but now I'm scared I won't make it."

The woman gave a knowing grin, and raised her arm, "Thirty minutes in that direction, love. Straight shot."

I grinned, "Thank you!"

I pulled back onto the road and continued driving, feeling my heart slow down to its normal pace.

•••

THIRD PERSON'S POV

You pulled up in front of the betting den, and got out of the car. You noticed cars belonging to Polly and Arthur sitting there. You pressed the horn repeatedly, waiting until someone came outside.

Tommy opened the door angrily, ready to shoot whoever decided to waste his time, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you.

"Merry Christmas," You remarked, throwing him the keys to the car and pushing past him to walk inside, taking off your coat.

"(Y/N)?" Polly asked in disbelief, you ignoring her as you walked to Finn's office.

He had gotten John's office, John's name still on the door. You knocked, and heard him yell 'fuck off'.

You swung open the door, revealing a dishevelled Finn. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. You shut the door behind you. You walked over to his desk, sitting yourself on top of it, noticing the white residue on the table top. He quickly moved to stand in front of you, inspecting you for any injuries.

"It's not my blood," You informed him, reaching up and wiping a finger on the outside of his nose, getting rid of the white powder still sat there.

"Can — Can I touch you to make sure you're real? I had dreams where you came back," Finn explained, lack of sleep and playing in the snow making the line between dream and reality near nonexistent.

You grabbed his hand, squeezing it. He let out a sigh, bringing your hand up to his mouth and placing a kiss on it. You were real. And you were back with him, and safe.

"Did anyone hurt you while you were there?" Finn asked, making you pale.

"No, but this morning one of them tried it on me. He didn't get anywhere, only groped me, but God Finn, it scared me," You admitted.

In the part of his mind that was still rational and not affected by lack of sleep and snow, he made a vow to track down the bastard and cut off his hands.

§§§

As you may be able to tell; I have a fixation with bacon and eggs lol

Love y'all ❤️

- Sunflower x

NEXT PART

Part 14

#finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby x y/n #finn shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #x reader #arthur shelby #finn shelby fanfic #tommy shelby

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lemony-snickers · 2 years

Text

chapter ten >>> part nine here.

Title: Helping Hands (part 10 of ?) (AO3 Link Here) Chapter Summary: Something shifts, however subtly, and love often finds a way. Chapter Word Count: 3,945 Chapter Warnings: fem!MC, alcohol use, suggestive language .

That Gai Maito had to wait several days too long for an apology from Lord Kakashi was a fact. That he did so with grace and did, however belatedly, eventually receive such a thing was also true, and Gai was not the sort of person to hold grudges, anyway.

As soon as Lord Kakashi whispered his heartfelt and sincere desire to call back the words he’d said in anger behind his teeth, to bite his tongue in retrospect, all was forgiven.

How could it not be? Gai had lost so much in his life, so many pieces of himself and so many of those around him, he was unwilling to dissuade a true friend from remaining part of it, no matter how stinging some of the shallow cuts traded between them might be.

That the Caretaker had a part in altering Lord Kakashi’s mind was never said aloud, though all in the House knew it to be true. And Gai secreted away his suspicions that the woman held more sway over her employer than she might yet realize.

Lord Kakashi’s heart remained in tatters, that much was clear; splintered on the sea and wrenched open once he found his way back to land. Ripped from his chest by the death of his wife, no matter how little true love lingered between them.

But Gai could see the way pieces of him were stitching back together, however slowly.

He wondered whether Sakumo might really have stumbled upon a magical place. An even more magical person in the woman he left in charge of his Estate after his death.

Despite Lord Kakashi’s assurances that he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted, Gai maintained his return ticket to Konoha, deciding he had had enough of the cool air of the Hatake Estate and the wind whipping over its hill, that the weepy skies of the country were doing no favors to his damaged leg or joints.

He was reluctant to leave his old friend, of course, and perhaps even more so to leave behind Shizune, the kind and thoughtful woman he had found himself so taken with as a result of her visits to the House to care for his friend’s injuries.

Gai found it extremely suspicious that the Caretaker had to ride into the village one afternoon for vague supplies, all of which he imagined the grocer’s boy could have easily delivered for them instead.

However, Gai could not find it in his heart to be sour with her when she returned with news that she had run into Shizune during her medical rounds in town—totally by accident, of course!—only to invite the young woman to dinner.

Though they had shared many afternoons with the young nurse, and a good number of teacups had been drained in her presence, she had never been to the House for an evening meal. Gai did not like to admit he was nervous at the prospect, nor that he took an unnecessary bath beforehand to make sure his hair was slick and shiny as ever. He wore his best clothes—a traditional suit from his homeland woven in a deep green with orange flames embroidered as if licking the hems.

“You look very dashing tonight, Gai,” Lord Kakashi said when he returned from his bedroom ahead of supper. “I surely hope you did not get all trussed up for me alone.”

Gai’s ears turned pink and he grunted at his friend’s teasing. Lord Kakashi knew full well who would be attending dinner and the fact that he thought needling Gai about it was at all fun seemed a very unkind thing, particularly given their recent—if wholly brief—falling out. Of course, it was all in good humor, something both gentlemen knew very well.

“You look very nice tonight, Gai,” the Caretaker said when they entered the dining room. It escaped neither man’s notice that she was not wearing one of the faded dresses she typically favored while working, but rather a rich burgundy-colored one that complemented her skin tone nicely.

That she made an attempt to look better than her part in accordance with the guest she had invited on Gai’s behalf warmed the other man through.

Lord Kakashi dressed exactly as he always had and made no apology for it, even when Gai commented that perhaps it would be best if he changed so he might better match the formality of his fellow diners.

“It’s my house, Gai, and I will dress as I please, thank you very much.”

In truth, Lord Kakashi felt utterly beyond his depth. He had done absolutely no true entertaining since his arrival—a thing which the Caretaker assured him was quite strange, indeed, in this particular country. Certainly, Doctor Senju and Shizune had attended teatime, but in every instance but one that had been only as an addendum to their medical duties attending to his leg.

This was something else entirely, and were the gesture not wholly attempted in Gai’s favor, he would have called off the invitation immediately. But he could not—would not—deny his friend such an evening, even if he had not recently been heartless toward him.

Gai deserved good things in his life not only as a matter of apology, but one of fact.

Shizune arrived by carriage—alone, thankfully—and wore a deep midnight blue dress that rather suited her dark hair and fair skin better than the white uniform she typically wore as Doctor Senju’s apprentice. Her heart stuttered when she saw Gai, especially, beaming at her from his wheelchair, wearing a richly-colored overcoat in a cut that she had never seen before.

“Thank you for the invitation to dinner, Lord Kakashi,” she said as she entered the foyer.

He spared only a cursory glance over his shoulder at the smirking Caretaker before he inclined his head politely. “Of course. As I’ve said, you are always welcome at Hatake Manor.”

Dinner passed with very little notice. The food, though good, was not outstanding, the drink, though refreshing, was not overpoured. The conversation, though stimulating, was not at all outrageous.

After dinner, though, Gai cleared his throat and stood uneasily on one leg to ask Shizune if she would accompany him on a tour of the grounds.

She very nearly knocked him over in her haste to help him remain steady on his singular foot, though Gai only laughed.

“Believe me, I’m stronger than I look,” he said, and they both blushed as she dragged her hands away from his arm.

Once he settled back into his chair, Shizune walked beside him as they made their way out to the grounds. The Caretaker went over every potential pathway in her mind, trying to remember if there might be any impediment to Gai or his chair.

“Don’t worry,” Lord Kakashi assured her, “They’ll be fine.”

Of course, there would be little she could do even if that were not the case, so she reluctantly turned away from the windows and began the arduous task of clearing the table. She wanted to be sure to have after dinner drinks prepared when Gai and Shizune returned the House, but best to get the worst of the cleaning out of the way first, if she could.

So absorbed was the Caretaker in her chores, she did not at first notice that Lord Kakashi began to help; picking up utensils and glasses and setting them carefully on a tray. He was a little unsteady as he walked, paying close attention to his limping gait so as not to spill the delicate crystal onto the floor and make a worse mess.

“Lord Kakashi!” she cried as he entered the kitchen, swooping in to take the tray from his hands. “I assure you, my Lord, I am quite capable of cleaning up. Please, retire to the parlor and I will be in with desert and tea shortly.”

Lord Kakashi smiled thinly. He felt a streak of combativeness within him, some churlish thing spawned from the Caretaker’s fresh attitude when she challenged him about the nature of their relationship only a few evenings prior.

So rather than retire to the parlor as instructed, Lord Kakashi shucked his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves to elbows to continue helping.

Though he was a strange man, and had of course built the ramps and pulleys now spread through the Manor on his own in order to make Gai’s stay more comfortable, the Caretaker still felt an inescapable uncertainty at his actions. Like it was a step too far, somehow, now that he was in her domain.

“My Lord, please, I—this is most unusual and if anyone were to see you in here—”

“And who, might I ask, will see me in the kitchen scraping leftover food into a bin?” he asked, doing just that as he looked at her pointedly. “Gai and Shizune? I hardly think they will pay any mind to me at all if they are even half as smitten with one another as I imagine they are.”

The Caretaker huffed, wanting to argue further, but deciding her best course of action was simply to clean quickly enough he would have no opportunity to dirty his clothes or the undersides of his fingernails.

She bustled quickly from the dining room to the kitchen, working at twice the speed she normally would have, and shooing the dogs away with a foot as they clambered impatiently for scraps.

“Wait your turn, I assure you you’ll have plenty to eat in just a minute,” she chided, wiping sweat from her brow.

Lord Kakashi chuckled, throwing a piece of meet at Bull where he sat quietly in the doorway. The large dog caught the scrap in his mouth easily, though the rest of the pack noticed, of course, and the favoritism caused quite a ruckus.

“Oh!” The dogs pulled on the Caretaker’s dress, and she tried to shoo them away again. “My Lord, please don’t feed one of them if you aren’t prepared to feed them all, they always do this…” she trailed off, waving her skirts at Bisuke to scare him away so he wouldn’t tatter the fabric with his teeth or his claws.

Lord Kakashi laughed. “I believe they are my hounds, and as such I may treat them as I please.”

“Only if you’re also going to wash their mess out of my dress,” she said archly.

He was about to offer a sarcastic reply when he thought better of himself. Certainly, making a quip about happily washing her clothing was not appropriate, even given the strange and ofttimes inappropriate nature of their relationship.

By the time she had set food out for his unruly pack of dogs, Lord Kakashi had washed nearly all the plates and silverware from dinner, much to her dismay.

“Will you please allow me to do my job?” she asked, trying to push him out of the way.

Without missing even half a beat, Lord Kakashi replied simply, “I do believe I was promised tea and cakes. I’m sure Gai and Shizune will be hungry again after their walk.”

The Caretaker fumed, but did as he asked, racing through the kitchen—and deftly stepping over all the many dogs in it—to make a tray of desserts and brew a pot of strong tea.

Lord Kakashi watched her as much as he could from the corner of his eye, doing his best to also continue his own work without interruption.

Admittedly, he rather liked this. Doing something. He felt often that his life here was so privileged as to be boring. And given he was not inclined to fill his spare time with gambling or drinking or shooting as he once had, doing chores around the house was as likely to be the best solution as any. He read plenty enough as it was, and he was riding again at least, so that was something.

But this was very different. And he enjoyed the way the Caretaker’s body sometimes pressed close to his as she passed by him, too busy going about her work to realize their proximity might be unseemly.

“How are you enjoying the book?” he asked, not knowing where the courage to voice his long-awaited question might have come from in the moment, but rather liking that it did, all the same.

It seemed all her movement stopped in an instant, as if she were frozen in place by a spell. When he turned to look at her over his shoulder, the Caretaker was faced away from him, one hand still around the glass she meant to lift from the shelf.

“I find it…” she paused, bringing the cup down and setting it carefully on the tray. This was an important thing, she knew, how she answered this question. Was she supposed to skirt around the actualities of the novel in question? Or should she come right out and say she found the dalliances of the main character to be quite arousing?

Certainly not, she thought, there must be a more delicate way to phrase her appreciation.

“I have found it quite intriguing thus far,” she said neutrally, resuming her work.

“Mm,” Lord Kakashi hummed, careful not to let his smirk overtake his face too much. “And how far into the book are you?”

She dared not reveal she was halfway through a second read of the book in its entirety. Surely admitting such a thing would be too embarrassing to ever recover from. She cast her mind through the chapters to find a late one in the book not so thoroughly filth ridden as the rest.

“Chapter twenty-seven, I believe.”

“Oh,” Kakashi said seriously, “the masquerade.”

The Caretaker cleared her throat, futilely attempting to cover the sound by scraping the saucers over the tray before her. “Indeed.”

She dared not reveal that she already knew what happened after the masquerade, nor did Lord Kakashi offer any insight into it either.

They both turned as they heard the door of the Manor open, the light laughter of Shizune and the bawdy howl of Gai as they returned to the House seeming to fill each room.

The Caretaker lifted her tray and began to make her way out of the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to gaze at Lord Kakashi over her shoulder.

“I daresay it’s obvious it was written by a man, however.”

He ceased his cleaning and wiped his hands away on a spare dishtowel he found on the counter. “Oh?” he asked, “And how is that?”

“No woman would ever use the term ‘so utterly undone’ as often,” she scoffed, “I know no woman who has ever been quite so taken by a man, even one she loved with all her heart.”

She held his gaze levelly and Lord Kakashi felt a sharp jolt of recognition—a fire in his belly he had not felt in some time, intense and incinerating as ever.

“We must always keep our wits about us, even in matters of love. And anyway, most men hardly know what they’re doing.”

She turned and left immediately, the Caretaker’s smile too wide to be hidden had she not marched the opposite direction of Lord Kakashi’s open-mouthed stare.

That she had so overtly discussed sex with him meant there must no longer be a rift between them, he thought. For that was not the sort of thing you would do with someone who only employed you, certainly. Not under usual circumstances, at least.

It was hardly a thing most men spoke of, even in the most exemplary company of friends.

Lord Kakashi pulled his jacket back on after he rolled down his sleeves.

How intriguing, to think she would flirt so openly with him. Part of him wondered if he might have even greater things to look forward to, now that they had apparently moved to a new phase of their friendship, and then he shook the thought away. What a lewd consideration.

The momentary lapse in judgement was all but forgotten as he finally entered the parlor where the rest of his party was already gathered, and a cup of tea already poured for him.

The night carried on quite late, tea turned to brandy, and everyone enjoyed themselves extremely well. Eventually, Shizune’s footman collected her again, and she departed, though not without several longing and lingering glances at Gai, nor without him taking her hand into his and brushing the back of it with his lips in a move that sent her skin streaking scarlet from her forehead to her collarbone.

“I’ve had a lovely evening,” he said, eyes sparkling equally with adoration and drink.

“As have I,” she replied, bowing politely to Lord Kakashi before taking her leave.

The Caretaker held back her smile as best she could, eager to know what might develop between the two, even though Gai had plans to leave so soon.

Her heart ached to think they might be separated, that whatever love was blossoming between them might not be given room enough to take root fully. She knew also, though, that love often found a way through difficult circumstances.

She cleared what she could from the parlor, but as the hour was quite late, the Caretaker decided to leave most of her work for the following day—and to allow Gai and Lord Kakashi privacy to speak alone as men after she departed, she hoped, about Shizune.

So rather than continue to clean, the Caretaker made herself a hot bath and sank into the basin gratefully, allowing the steam to open the pores on her face and sooth the aching muscles of her neck and shoulders.

It felt delightful after such a long day, and she leaned her head back against the rim of the tub, humming gratefully.

She did not mean to fall asleep, but she did. And though she usually did not dream too vividly—her body to exhausted from her day’s long work to conjure further images once her eyes had closed—the promise of love between Gai and Shizune and the discussions of Paradise had with Lord Kakashi in the kitchen apparently took their toll.

Because she did dream that night, lying back in the tub, of Genma. She saw his handsome face, his too-long hair falling into his eyes as he moved above her, making love to her as he teased her for the sounds she made in whatever cupboard they’d secured for their evening’s liaisons.

She felt the love in her chest burst in time with his rhythm, his fingers curling against her cheek and them threading between her own to hold her hand as he fucked her sweetly.

She closed her eyes, tiling her had back so he could lavish her throat with kisses and love bites she would have to hide with tint and a scarf the following day.

She had always loved him, since they were children, and it had been all too easy for that love to grow into something else as they aged, so by the time they were nineteen, they were promised to one another and Genma already knew all there was to know about her—her proclivities and reservations. He knew how she tasted, and she knew him, and they would be together all their lives learning each new line of one another’s face, each freckle dancing over their skin, each sigh and moan they made together and alone.

But when she opened her eyes, it was no longer Genma above her, but Lord Kakashi, staring intently from beneath a curtain of damp, silver hair.

The Caretaker startled awake in the tub, limbs flailing as she did so, water cascading over the rim and onto the floor.

Her breath was quick and insistent—a frantic, ragged drum beat she could hardly keep up with.

She clutched at the locket resting between her breast, wet now from the bath.

Desperately, she reached for a towel to dry the outside before prying it open and doing the same to the interior. Thankfully, not enough water had breached the seal to damage the portraits within.

She held the necklace in a firm clutch, her arm balanced on the edge of the tub so her hand lingered over the tile rather than the water in case she dropped it.

And as she recovered her breath, shame bloomed in the Caretaker’s heart. That she would ever think of Genma in such a way only to replace him with another seemed a betrayal too cruel to contemplate.

Certainly, Lord Kakashi had become something of a friend; a confidante, even, in some ways. And, of course, they had flirted, perhaps not as innocently as they should have; Lord Kakashi knew parts of her life she had not yet shared with anyone else, but that was only because she had not had the opportunity to do so.

Her relationship with the Lord was a matter primarily of circumstance. Her love for Genma—and his for her—had been the result of years of caring and learning one another. Years of deep friendship that sowed the seeds of something more, patience and respect that grew into love and, yes, sex.

The Caretaker did not read Paradise that night. And if either Gai or Lord Kakashi noticed her more reserved nature the following day or the one after, neither said anything.

Of course, there were plenty more surprises to take precedence over any slight alteration in her demeanor.

Chief amongst such things was Gai and Shizune announcing that she would travel with him back to Konoha. Ostensibly, the arrangement was made so she might study the medical practices of Gai and Lord Kakashi’s homeland. But everyone, even the surly Doctor Senju, knew the true purpose of Shizune’s travels and none could blame her for taking the offer in hand and holding it tightly between her fingers.

Though saying goodbye was Gai felt bitter on her tongue, the Caretaker was glad for him, and even gladder to have met him. Lord Kakashi pretended it matter not at all, but his heart ached even before his ship was out of sight.

Travelling with Gai and Shizune to the dock that brought them home was the longest Lord Kakashi had been away from the Manor since his original arrival. He was not at all prepared for how much he would miss the sight of the gardens, the wind as it raced up the hill to the veranda.

The dogs he left behind.

Or the woman with them.

He did not examine closely the way a smile broke upon his face when he first saw her on that fourth day after his departure, climbing the hill by foot as he led his horse. The Caretaker opened the door to loose the dogs into the yard, and they tackled him gratefully into the tall grass. Lord Kakashi fell a bit awkwardly on his injured leg, but not badly enough even to leave a bruise, so he was unconcerned. What mattered most was giving each dog as many pets as he could manage while they all licked at his face and his neck.

That Lord Kakashi laughed like a child was a lovely thing, something the Caretaker knew she would hold onto for a long time, almost as tightly as the locket she wore.

And when she met the pack of dogs as they assaulted their master, she took the reins of his horse and leaned over him with a warm smile.

“Welcome home, my Lord.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Lord Kakashi truly felt as though he was.

#lemony scribbles #🍋 mix and match #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #fem!reader #tw suggestive #tw alcohol #historical au #historical romance #long-winded historical au clusterfuck

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bengesko · 1 year

Text

Some character building for my baby, Arden.

1: What does their bedroom look like? Arden’s bedroom is literally the back of a hearse. He covered the casket tracks with a futon mattress, a memory foam pad, blankets, pillows, etc. (He gets kicked out by his dad often enough that his hearse is his secondary home.)

2: Do they have any daily rituals? Every day, Arden does a circle around Dragula to check for damage, vandalism, etc. Dragula is his transport, his home, his ticket out of hell. She means everything to him.

3: Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often? Arden does basic weight lifting 2-3 times a week to keep himself strong so he can help lift bodies, move caskets etc. He’s thin and wiry but strong and scrappy as a result.

4: What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy? Grab a snack out of his hearse. (not a body lol)

5: Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.) Arden doesn’t have much, so he’s very neat and tidy, but if given the space, time, and funds, he might struggle a bit with hoarding tendencies.

6: Eating habits and sample daily menu. Arden is a really good cook- he has to be. He makes hearty, filling meals, usually full of meat and veggies because he doesn’t get much of what he cooks, so he makes sure that what he DOES get is nourishing. (stews, casseroles, soups, etc)

7: Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time. Free time is a rare thing for Arden- different from “kicked out of the house” time. True free time is spent taking care of himself. He doesn’t see it as “wasting time” because it’s so rare that he gets to enjoy himself, he relishes it.

8: Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging. Weed and hot showers. He rarely has the time/chance to take long showers or baths, and when he does, he is constantly on edge that he’ll be chastised for it. Weed, however, he can enjoy in his hearse or with friends, and it helps him forget his problems. He never feels bad about it, but he does have that never ending nagging in his brain that he has to get back home to his duties.

9: Makeup? He wears a bit of eyeshadow to darken his eye sockets, make them more masculine, and he’ll daub kohl in the corners of his eyes. He uses mortuary cosmetics to cover the bruises his father (or other bullies) give him.

10: Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such? Arden definitely has hypervigilance and a near permanent lack of self worth as a result of abuse. He doesn’t even realize it’s a thing.

11: Intellectual pursuits? Arden doesn’t really have the time, but he loves biological related sciences.

12: Favorite book genre? He doesn’t have time to read for pleasure, but he’d LOVE horror.

13: Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general? Arden is demiromantic/pansexual with a preference for masculine people. (Though he lives in the 80’s- to him, he’s queer and careful.)

14: Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.) Arden is missing a top front premolar (a result of his father punching him in the face).

15: Biggest and smallest short term goal? He wants to graduate and get the fuck out of Hawkins. (He also wants to finally have sex with his boyfriend.)

16: Biggest and smallest long term goal? He wants to find a funeral home to work at, a place to live, and look into the possibility of doing more to transition. (It's the 80's for him, being trans is a whole Ordeal just to find info, let alone medication/surgery)

17: Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress. Arden dresses in a mix of soft Goth/Punk- black jeans, Doc Martens, leather jacket, band shirts, etc. He wears a compression top (binder) that he made himself, and it’s the first thing he puts on every day.

18: Favorite beverage? Mexican Coke.

19: What do they think about before falling asleep at night? His boyfriend. (Later, his boyfriends and his girlfriend.)

20: Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them? Arden has pock scars from a REALLY bad second bout of chickenpox that hospitalized him- he got it a second time from his siblings and they were so bad he had them in his throat.

21: Turn-ons? Turn-offs? Turn ons: Defensive/Protective tendencies, willingness to show vulnerability, long hair, a good classic smolder paired with a predatory grin, tight jeans on a well shaped ass. Turn offs: bullying, pointless violence, cruelty for the sake of being cruel, (willful) poor hygiene, bigotry, (most) girls in general.

22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? Arden would draw bones, skulls, organs; fractals.

23: How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life? Arden is meticulous. He runs the household and has to make sure it’s always in order, and it’s a habit that he will never shake.

24: Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all? Anatomy/Physiology. He’s been “educated” in mortuary science and practices since he was young, and he has an intimate knowledge of the human body.

25: How do they see themselves 5 years from today? He hopes to see himself in a new place with his boyfriend, happy and free.

26: Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout? He plans on leaving, getting a job as a mortician, dragging his boyfriend with him as a mechanic. If that doesn’t work, then the goal is just to get to the West Coast and figure it out from there.

27: What is their biggest regret? That he’s going to leave his burdens on his younger sister when he leaves.

28: Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy? (Currently)His best friends are his sister Lizzie and Billy. His worst enemies are his father and Tommy Hagan.

29: Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?) Getting everyone to safety, seeing to wounds/injuries.

30: Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies) Complete and utter shutdown. Withdrawal into silence, self soothing, isolation while he processes his trauma.

31: Most prized possession? Dragula, his hearse; he also utterly cherishes the ring Billy gave him. He also has a silver Gemeinhardt flute that his grandfather bought him when he was 10 (all the bells and whistles- C and B foot, open hole with plugs, etc)

32: Thoughts on material possessions in general? They’re nice in theory, but he doesn’t have very many.

33: Concept of home and family? He sees his family and the family home as a burden, as a prison, and he’s counting down the days until he can leave. (Eventually, when he ends up with Billy, Layla, and Eddie, he'll realize family isn't always biological, and is precious)

34: Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?) Arden’s a very private person by nature, and cherishes what little privacy he gets, but he can be TMI once he opens up to people. (Once he trusts someone, he can’t ever shut up)

35: What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time? He loves to draw and play the flute, but he constantly thinks about all the things he could be doing with his time.

36: What makes them feel guilty? The fact that when he leaves, his burdens, his responsibilities as a parentified eldest child will fall to his younger sister. He hates that he’s going to leave his sister to the life he’s been living, but he is close to his breaking point.

37: Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making? Both- it depends on the situation. When it concerns emergencies, he’s very analytical. Himself? Emotional, bordering on clueless.

38: What recharges them when they’re feeling drained? Sitting outside smoking, listening to music. If he’s in a place that’s isolated, he’ll pull out his flute and play songs that are emotionally important to him.

39: Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither? DEFINITELY an inferiority complex. He was raised to think he’s replaceable, worthless and disposable.

40: How misanthropic are they? 50/50. He thinks families are bullshit, and is skeptical about the concept of “Good parents,” but when he has the luxury of getting close to someone, he remembers people aren’t inherently bad.

41: Hobbies? He doesn’t have time for them, but he loves taxidermy/vulture culture. When he finally has a place of his own, he’ll FILL it with bones, wet specimens, etc. He also plays the flute, but has taken a break from it while focusing on graduating.

42: How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education? Currently, Arden’s about to graduate high school, and he’s hoping to get certified as a mortician. If it requires vocational school or college, he’ll do it, but he doesn’t judge anyone who doesn’t take that route.

43: Religion? Arden was raised Methodist, but he’s jaded, and doesn’t believe in God. He will (eventually) end up having a deep attachment to Anubis/Yinepu and Odin.

44: Superstitions or views on the occult? Arden’s seen weird shit working with the dead, and after spending a year in Hawkins? Yeah, he doesn’t doubt there’s more to the world than what’s visible. He does have a superstition that he always puts a coin in the casket of a decedent, and always keeps a handful of pennies in his hearse. He fully believes in having fare for the Ferryman.

45: Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds? Both. He often bottles his thoughts and feelings up, and expresses his moods by keeping himself busy- when he’s around someone he trusts, the words just fall out of him.

46: If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal? Arden wants someone who will be gentle, careful with him, but allows him to set firm boundaries, and will understand and be patient with his trauma. He also wants someone he can laugh with, someone who shares or understands what he’s been through.

47: How do they express love? Arden’s love language is acts of service mostly, but also touch: cooking, tending to wounds/injuries, making sure his lover has what they need; he also loves, craves, and relishes small, casual touches- holding hands, leaning against them, brushing hair off a cheek, small kisses, tiny caresses. (He’s touch starved.)

48: If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like? Arden fights dirty. He bites, claws, pulls hair, goes for the eyes, teeth, groin. If there’s a blunt object in reach? He’ll grab it and start pummeling. (He once beat up a bully to the point of unconsciousness with his flute case.)

49: Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not? He’s more worried about not being able to live his life the way he wants to before dying than actually dying. He’s seen how the dead are handled, has handled the dead himself, and the clinical side of that gives him comfort- but also drives him to strive for the life he wants before his time comes.

#Arden Threlkeld #Fic: Break the Cycle

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tasteofdeathao3 · 2 years

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Hi lovey!

Id love to hear any other headcannons you have for little!izzy if you ever want to list them off. He‘s just such a spurly dumpling that needs some softness in his life 😅

yes yes I have so many hcs for izzy! he's got such a hard outer shell but when you get down to it he can be such a softy lol

He's a pretty picky eater - when he's big he doesn't make a fuss, he thinks it's stupid to complain about what he's given, especially eating stale bread and rationed salted meat for most of his life, but once he's small he doesn't bother pretending he doesn't want to eat whatever spice filled dish Roach has cooked up. Stede tries to get him to eat at least a little of whatever it is, partly because it's polite to roach and partly because he wants Izzy to eat something other than bread and butter for every meal, but Ed won't hesitate to get up and help Izzy butter some bread slices or cut up some fruits - he doesn't get the big deal and just sees it as Izzy eating rather than starving

He's so cranky???? like Izzy is probably the angriest guy on the Revenge and doesn't bother much to hide it, but the second he slips he pitches a fit at every little thing. Stede could tell him he can't go out on the deck while it rains and he spends the next 45 minutes huffing and stomping everywhere, giving everyone a big grumpy pout if they try to talk to him. definitely gets into fights with the other tinies on board, occasionally he can get physical but mostly he just shouts and cries, to the relief of everyone else.

related to the last one but- I feel like he gets hangry???? like of course he forgets to eat through the day, combined with slipping and being more emotionally vulnerable, and all of a sudden he's refusing bath time and pushing Ed away from him when he tries to sit too close, biting at Stede's hand while he's getting him dressed. A quick meal gets him sorted quick though and he's back to being a happy baby again

I feel like he has a bit of an issue with favouritism/exclusion?? Ed does slip occasionally, and Izzy usually isn't too upset between whether he has his Baba or a big brother instead, but when Ed is small, Izzy always worries that he isn't the favourite, that Stede likes Ed more, that Ed is easier to take care of etc, which is, of course, 100% not true. Stede finds him when he's upset make makes sure to give him extra attention, giving him some much needed physical affection and carefully reminding him that he's loved, listing all the things he does just because he loves izzy. Eddie, once he notices Izzy's upset, is glued to his side, and will stop at nothing to protect his baby brother from anything that might hurt him (even if The Swede asking to play with them isn't that much of a danger to them)

This guy needs his naps. like needs them. Stede gives him a 30-60 minute afternoon nap most days, and he complains the whole time, at least until he's asleep. He doesn't like not being involved with what's going on up on the deck, especially if Ed is up there doing something cool, but Stede reads him a quick story and pats his hair and all of a sudden he's fast asleep. Every few days he decides he hates naps and refuses to have one - keeps running out of the room, crawling out of the bed, hiding behind Frenchie and Wee John, occasionally biting Ed when he scoops Izzy up and drops him in the bed again - when Stede gives up and let's him keep playing, the night is sure to be full of a cranky sleepy boy who doesn't want to stop playing, who's falling asleep in the bath, who falls asleep a good few hours early and ensures that either Ed or Stede will have a very early morning taking care of him once he wakes up

Big Izzy isn't a very cuddly guy, he'll allow a shoulder pat at the maximum, but when he's small he's the biggest cuddlebug. He needs cuddles to fall asleep, or so he says, which means often times Ed often ends up getting a nap along with Izzy after falling asleep holding him. If he wakes up during the night tiny then he pads into the captain's cabin (though its more like stomping, everyone can hear him scuttle along) and wriggles up between them under the covers, settling only when they both wrap their arms around him and press him up between them. He absolutely loves to curl into Stede's side, or on his lap if Stede lets him, and just sit there while he reads or works. Stede isn't such a big fan of this, since he knows Izzy falls asleep on the spot, and doesn't want to have to deal with waking him up. on days where he feels extra cuddly, he will not let Stede's arm go. He'll follow him around with both arms wrapped around one of Stede's, face pressed into his shoulder as he chats to other crew members, burrowing into Stede's side when he sits down to eat and begging him to let Izzy lay on his chest for the bed time story. He especially loves being squished, giggles up a storm when Stede pretends he can't see him and sits on top of him, or when Ed flops on top of him in bed, pinning him to the mattress as he giggles and laughs.

He's pretty quiet overall?? aside from tantrums and upsets, he can be one of the quietest regressors on The Revenge. He much prefers to talk with his hands, poking at things he wants or trying to sign out what he wants - Ed is far more skilled at interpreting what he means, while Stede is still learning. Izzy gets a little upset when Stede has trouble understanding what he wants, but he almost always gets it eventually. He likes to have something in his mouth to excuse himself from talking, whether it be his fingers, a soother, a teether, or someone else's fingers, or even pressing his face into someone's body so that he wouldn't be heard even if he did try to speak.

#fandom agere #sfw agere #sfw #ofmd #ofmd regression #Izzy Hands #age regression #I have so many hcs for this little man #this is like 00000.1% of the thoughts I have about him

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gerec · 1 year

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37, 38, and 49 - for the fic meme

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

I'm not sure why but not very many people read No Rest For The Weary, which is a (rare from me) post-Dark Phoenix canon compliant fic where Charles and Erik are living happily together in Genosha. I really enjoyed writing them in a mature, committed relationship, and showcasing how great and powerful they are when they use their powers together as a team. Perhaps it's because Logan is Charles' ex in the story and the plot is about his rescue, and readers misunderstand it as a love triangle. But really Logan is just the catalyst for dragging up everyone's excessive baggage and maybe giving them a chance to heal.

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?

Answered here!

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Right so I literally have a dozen little snippets of different ideas where I'm writing to see if it will actually turn into a full fledged story and I started one the other day about Erik's time in the Pentagon. It reads like a character piece (which it's kind of meant to a little) except it's also dirtybadpornz lol:

They serve him a meal of creamy potato soup and breaded pork cutlet tonight, which Erik eats methodically with his plastic utensils, the tray perched on his lap. There’s also a slice of apple pie and tea to wash it all down, and he finishes all of it, unable to bear the thought of letting food go to waste. He’s spent enough long months and years going hungry not to appreciate every single bite, a full stomach more comforting than the actual taste of his meal.

And they help to break the monotony of each day spent in his cell, with nothing to do but read, meditate and exercise to keep his body in shape.

He knows that it’s Thursday, because he’s always served this particular menu on Thursdays, and that’s another thing to appreciate about the constancy of his routine. There are never any newspapers in his reading materials to mark the passage of time, and only the strict adherence to a schedule keeps Erik rooted in some semblance of reality and normalcy inside his concrete cell. In the beginning he had tried to keep track of the days passing by in his head, though he gave it up as weeks turned into months and then months turned into years.

(What he’s never given up hoping - even now, after everything – is that Charles might come for him some day.)

Thursday is also bath day and after dinner, Erik is escorted by two guards to another concrete room on the same level, where he’s given soap, shampoo and a plastic tub filled with warm water. They’re too afraid to afford him any privacy, and he has to complete his ablutions under two pairs of watchful eyes. Still, it’s not a new experience for Erik to be treated this way; his time in the camps have inured him to the constant scrutiny of suspicious armed guards.

He lays down on his thin mattress, under his thin sheet, and closes his eyes to another day.

#gerec rambles #cherik #questions for fic writers #memes #thank you for the ask!!!

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casspurrjoybell-25 · 2 months

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The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 26 - Orders - Part 1

Galen had seldom experienced the luxury of a hot bath.

At home, the best he could hope for was a basin of warm water heated on the stove.

There were the bathhouses, of course but as he often got more attention than he wanted there, he'd learned to avoid such places.

The stone pool was all his for the moment, though and he did his best to enjoy it despite the worries fluttering about his head like a flock of restless birds.

The clear water steamed in the cool air and as he stripped out of his clothes and slipped into its welcoming warmth, he took stock of his body for the first time in weeks.

He had grown leaner and hardened up a little from the constant exercise of travel, the daily exertion leaving his muscles lightly toned.

He wondered if he'd gained a little height, as well and as the heat of the water sank through his skin and he watched the shadows in the courtyard slowly shift, he realized that the year must have turned it's quarter some time in the past week or so.

He'd never been sure of the exact date, of course but Harrald had estimated Galen to be about three months old when he'd found him in the snow.

That had been closer to the end of the year, so they had always celebrated his birthday at the fall equinox.

As it seemed that this had come and gone, Galen supposed he must now have entered his eighteenth year.

If he were still in Dern, he would be considered a full-grown man and expected to enter service with the Guard in one capacity or another, as every able-bodied Thrynian must for the first three years of their adulthood.

He had expected and hoped, to be assigned to the medics but there was no guarantee.

He might have ended up holding doors for nobles at the palace or as a scout or as arrow-fodder on the front lines.

There was no way to know until one presented oneself for service and then as much depended on the whims of the recruiting officers as it did on one's own skill.

Behn had hoped to be assigned to the mess... to kitchen duty... while Triss, of course, had been snapped up by the Watchers the moment she came of age.

But none of that mattered, now.

Now, Triss was a deserter and Behn would be marked a coward when or if, he ever returned... as would Galen, if he were not put to death as a witch.

The thought of what his friends had given up for his sake sat heavy on his heart, as did the thought of never seeing his home or Harrald again and as he studied the fast-healing traces of bruises and scrapes marring his skin, he wondered if he was worth such sacrifice.

He was certainly not worth the sacrifice of a life, he thought and his resolve to help Iksthanis if he could hardened even as as his muscles relaxed in the heat of the natural bath.

Clean and refreshed, he emerged and dried himself with a towel from a pile set nearby for that purpose and dressed himself in the soft, loose clothes with which they had all been provided... a pair of cotton trousers, a sleeveless undershirt,and a robe-like outer garment secured with a cloth belt.

Rejoining the others in the large, circular chamber, he found them gathered around a table laden with food, serving themselves portions in generously sized wooden bowls.

There was a deep pot of hearty vegetable stew, fresh-baked bread with butter and honey and a platter of berries, fruits and cheese.

Those who had served themselves already sat about on the beds or on the floor, enjoying the meal, looking more relaxed and happy than they had in weeks.

Here, at last, was a place they could rest without fear and while Iksthanis's fate remain uncertain, there was enough joy in knowing he still lived to lighten their hearts.

Anira had returned as well and stood a little apart, speaking with Sevhalim in a low voice.

Galen frowned as he approached, wondering if he had missed his chance to eavesdrop already and determined to ask his questions directly if need be.

Sev turned as he approached and opened his mouth as if to speak but instead drew a quick breath as his expression went briefly blank with surprise.

Recovering himself, he blinked and offered Galen the ghost of a smile.

"Galen. You look... refreshed," he said.

"The waters are very restorative here," he replied, inclining his head in Anira's direction.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

The gray-haired woman raised a brow at him, the skin of her forehead creasing with lines.

"I would say that you are welcome here but the decision does not rest with me alone. As I have just been explaining to Sevhalim, a council of four... of which I am one... governs this sanctuary. My counterparts request an audience at sunset."

Galen nodded.

"I will be honored to meet them."

Anira smiled.

"And you shall but this meeting is for Hands alone. There are things of which we must speak that are not for the uninitiated. Only Sev and Rea may attend."

Galen turned to Sevhalim and frowned.

"What of Iksthanis?"

Sev met his gaze briefly, his mercurial eyes a dark grey, before he looked away again.

"Let me speak with the council, first. When all is known, the path before us will be clear."

"The path is clear already," Galen argued, lifting his chin.

"If I don't help him, Iksthanis will die and that is not a choice I will make."

Drawing a slow breath, Sevhalim nodded.

"I know. Give me but a few hours and then... Well, then we shall see."

He turned away as Rea joined them and with a few brief words, the three Hands departed.

Galen stood in the arched doorway and watched as they walked up the path through the trees, back the way they had come.

Galen glanced at her, then over his shoulder to where Behn lay, already asleep on his chosen bed.

With Rea and Sev gone and Zenír with Iksthanis and Obi in the infirmary, the three friends were alone for the first time in weeks.

Galen longed for the opportunity to speak with them unguardedly, to voice his worries and fears and to perhaps form some plan for the future but he had other priorities.

Except in the vaguest terms, no one had told him exactly what it meant to be a 'P'Yrha' and what the Order at Jana Val might want with him.

Over the course of their shared journey, he had come to suspect that this was not so much because his companions wished to keep him in the dark as because they, themselves, did not know.

Anira, though, seemed well-informed and was intent on informing Sevhalim and Rea in turn.

Galen did not want to miss the opportunity to be likewise educated, fearing that, if left in the dark, vital decisions might be made without his knowledge or consent.

"I'm going to follow them," he said.

"At least, I'm going to try."

"Good," Triss said, patting his shoulder.

"Behn and I will cover for you, if anyone comes looking. You'd better get moving, though... this place is a maze."

Nodding his agreement, he slipped away down the path after the three Hands, moving swift and silent on bare feet.

If they stayed in the forested areas, he would have plenty of cover but if they were bound for the upper region, where the colossal house was carved into the cliff, he would have a harder time following them unseen.

Fortunately, as he crested a small rise, he glimpsed them up ahead, turning down a stone path flanked by leafy vegetation.

He followed cautiously, keeping his distance.

The path twisted and turned in its descent and the cover was nearly too good... it kept him well hidden but he couldn't see more than a few paces ahead and proceeded with care.

Rounding a bend, Galen came upon an arching stone bridge spanning a small tumbling stream and just glimpsed Rea's back as she turned down an adjoining path on the other side of it.

Dashing lightly across in pursuit, he paused at the bend and peeked through the foliage.

A set of stone steps led down to a paved, circular area below.

At the center of this, a fire crackled merrily in a large stone bowl, around which benches were arranged.

Hugging three sides of the stone platform, the tumbling stream burbled and rushed and on its further bank the land rose in sheer rock clothed in clinging ferns.

It was the perfect place to hold a secret meeting.

The stream would drown out voices and with everyone seated in a circle there was no direction from which an interloper... like Galen... might approach unseen.

Three people were gathered there already, dressed in finer versions of the sort of clothes Galen now wore... long robes loosely belted over free-flowing garments.

They stood as Anira Rea, and Sevhalim approached and greeted them with soft words and gestures of welcome.

Galen swore beneath his breath.

They would surely spot him at once if he descended the path... there was no way he could get down the slope through the brush without making a racket and from his current distance, he couldn't hear a word they said.

Then, as his eyes were drawn upward by the vertical lines of the cliffs, he saw his chance... a great tree with gnarled, overhanging limbs.

If he could make his way around to it and out on one of the limbs, he would be situated directly above the speakers and... he hoped... would be able to hear what they said.

Retreating back up the path, he picked his way around the top of the cliff to the base of the tree, and thanked Thrynis for his good luck when he saw the lowest branches were within reach.

Clambering carefully onto the largest of these which overhung the grotto below, he inched his way out along the horizontal limb.

The smooth bark offered little grip but thankfully the girth was great enough he was in no danger of easily slipping off.

When he was almost directly above the group gathered below, he paused and strained his ears and picked up a thread of conversation.

"I thought you all had been killed," Sev was saying in a wondering tone.

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j-graysonlibrary · 7 months

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The Xiang Chronicles: Book One Chapter 23

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book One

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 83k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Every few centuries a hero is born—one chosen by the God Tiandi to carry out his will in the mortal realm. The Xiang. Whether it is to quell a war instigated by the forces of shadow—of Shakti herself—or whether it is the miasma that poisons the world, the Xiang is born to bring the world back into balance.

Shu Pangu Min knows what his purpose is and he does his best to fulfill it even if he doesn’t fully understand all of the details. He must travel from city to city—lord to lord—to clear out the miasma. Along the way, he is to enlist the aid of four disciples. Each is to be of a different country and each must have high resonance and deep faith.

The holy men who raised him have great confidence in his future successes and they leave him to begin his journey on his own. But, can Pangu live up to the expectations of those around him? Can he really save the land like all other Xiang before him or will his unconventional methods doom them all?

Full chapter 23 under the cut

Chapter XXIII

The next night, after a meal at the highly acclaimed restaurant that Agni San Jurou had given them free passes for, the group prepared to go to the hot spring baths but Raine stopped and grabbed Kira by the arm.

“You two go ahead without us,” he told Baiya and Pangu, “I have something to talk to Kira about.”

Baiya knew exactly what that was though he was surprised he wasn’t asking Pangu to join the discussion. Perhaps he was worried he would end up yelling at the Xiang or he was really just mad at Kira specifically.

Personally, he didn’t have many thoughts on the matter. Baiya hadn’t been with them for longer than two months so this news wasn’t as devastating as it apparently was to Raine. He also found the reveal that Kira was actually absorbing the miasma to be very in the man’s character. If he had been paying closer attention to him during the ceremonies, he bet he would have been able to tell.

But, he guessed, since Raine had been with him for so much longer and he had been lied to, he was more hurt by the development. That and he probably had feelings for Kira but Baiya wouldn’t mention that to either of them. Raine would deny it and Kira would threaten to stab him.

“What’s going on?” Pangu asked, looking between his first two disciples.

Baiya placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s private, Pangu. Let’s be off.”

He pouted but agreed and walked off with him.

Kira frowned and watched them go. His eyes cut back to Raine. “What is the matter? Are you trying to put our Pangu in a precarious situation by leaving him to bathe with that lecher?”

“I thought you two were friends now,” Raine commented.

“We are. He’s still a creep.”

He shook his head. “It isn’t about them at all. It is about you.”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“Let’s find somewhere private to talk.”

The city streets were alive with crowds and celebrations as everyone was excited about the clear air and the revival of their weeklong festivities. Some kids ran by with kites in the likeness of dragons, screaming to their hearts content. It quickly became apparent they would not be able to carve out a corner to themselves without being interrupted so Raine walked back to their hotel.

He led Kira to his room and closed the door.

“I’m starting to get worried here,” Kira mentioned as he took a few steps to the side.

Raine locked the door, making his anxiety rise even further. “I want you to be honest with me, Kira.”

He stared at him with wide eyes. A million different things ran through his mind. He could not even guess what Raine might have found out about to cause him to be this upset. “Um…okay. What about?”

“You know what about,” the man snapped.

Kira put his hands up. “I don’t.” He really could not imagine what would have him this riled and, as much as he tried to remain calm and not let his sudden and erratic behavior bother him, Kira’s heart still thundered in his chest.

Raine reached over and grabbed his hands. He yanked off the gloves he’d just recently started wearing and, despite the protests, he turned his hands to face palm up. Black splotches littered his skin which had become slightly paler. With all of the traveling through Agni’s climate, his skin should have been tanner, not paler and there was no logical explanation for the black spots except for the miasma.

“Hey…” Kira tried to pull his hands away but the man had a firm grip around his wrists. “You can’t just be grabbing me like that. What if I get the wrong idea?”

“Stop it,” Raine fussed, “Stop trying to turn this into a joke! You’ve been poisoning yourself and you’ve been lying about it. To my face.”

Kira’s brow furrowed. Even if he had made wild guesses about what Raine was upset about, he wouldn’t have figured this was it. So, he asked, “How did you find out?”

“That isn’t important,” he rebutted, “The point is, I know it’s been you this whole time. Clearing the miasma for Pangu while he dances for the people. You have some nerve telling me that you and him were doing extra training when he was really checking to make sure you weren’t getting ill from this.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Kira finally ripped his hands away. He quickly secured his gloves back on and crossed his arms.

“You could have told me the damn truth,” Raine stated, “Why was it so hard? Why did you have to lie?”

“We didn’t want you to worry,” he explained and looked away, “As long as everything went smoothly, you didn’t need to know.”

“How did you find out you could do it? Can Pangu even do it?”

Kira sighed. “One, I just started doing it—I don’t really know. Two, yes, of course Pangu can but it affects him worse than it does me. That’s why I started doing it so he wouldn’t get sick.”

“But he’s the Xiang. That’s his job,” Raine responded. It was literally one of his core purposes. “It makes no sense that you would be able to handle the miasma better than him. No other should be as equipped as he is at absorbing it.”

“I don’t know, Raine!” Kira yelled and threw his hands up, “I don’t know anything else so I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I have been absorbing it because it doesn’t bother me that much and now it has started to physically manifest. We have two countries left but I cannot allow Pangu to poison himself so I am just going to have to suck it up.”

“It isn’t your job,” the man insisted.

“I don’t care. I really don’t.” Kira walked past him to the door. “Look, I am sorry we didn’t tell you but nothing is going to change. I am still going to do it and there is nothing you can do or say to change my mind.”

“You are missing the entire point of why I am mad,” Raine said, clenching his jaw. “Don’t walk out of here.”

Kira glanced over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. “I’m gonna. Don’t try to stop me either—I will throw you to the ground and you and I both know that I can.”

Raine frowned and his hands balled into fists. He watched as the man left his room, slamming the door after him. He doubted he was truly sorry that he’d kept the information from him—he was just trying to pacify him.

That was what he was most angry about. While he didn’t want Kira to continue poisoning himself and he couldn’t fathom why Pangu was allowing it at all, he mostly hated the fact that the two hadn’t even considered letting him be a part of it. They decided for him that it was better he didn’t know.

And he hated that.

***

Baiya considered talking to Pangu about the miasma situation between him and Kira but he figured either Raine would eventually confront him about it or Kira would relay what happened later. Besides, just because he hadn’t been the one actually absorbing the miasma didn’t mean that he didn’t deserve to relax.

The old man at the baths took their ticket, inspected it and then gestured to the door on the right. There was a sign over the top that had the old symbol for man etched on it.

“I had heard that this building was constructed during Xiang Phaos’ time,” Pangu said as he walked through the door and into the open air bath. It smelled strongly of saline. That was the first thing he noticed but it was quickly trumped by the fact that no one else was in there.

“It is a fascinating structure,” Baiya said, not paying much attention to the fact that there was no one around.

“Where is everyone?” Pangu asked, while looking from side to side, trying to see if maybe someone was hiding just out of sight.

“I think the baths might have been reserved for just our party,” the other man answered and walked to the large pail of clean water. There were smaller cups and sponges beside it so they could clean off before entering the springs.

Pangu just wasn’t sure he could do anything with Baiya being the only other person around him. He was glad that the steam from the springs was already flushing his skin so that maybe his blushing wouldn’t be noticeable.

“Is there…another wash pail…?” Pangu asked, unable to hide the hiccup in his voice.

“There should be,” Baiya answered and glanced back at him, “You don’t want to wash off with me?”

“I…It’s not…”

“It’s fine,” the man said and laughed, “I’m just messing with you. Feel free to go to the other side. I’ll even keep my back turned.”

Pangu struggled to make words properly come out of his mouth but he managed a hushed, “Thanks,” before he walked to the other side of the spring and found an untouched basin.

He could only hope that Baiya was keeping his word. While he had nothing to hide, necessarily, he still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at the thought of the man seeing him nude. He certainly hoped he didn’t accidently see Baiya naked—he had enough of a problem as it was.

Pangu finished first and slipped into the springs slowly, taking in the warmth of the water a little bit at a time. His eyes flashed over to where Baiya was but he promptly turned away so he didn’t accidently see too much. His cheeks burned as he heard the man step into the water.

Baiya chuckled. “You can turn around now. It’s safe.”

“I’ve never been a hot spring before,” Pangu explained while leaving out the fact that he, Raine, and Kira had bathed in ponds and bath houses together before. If he told him that then his problem would be clear and he was not prepared to have that conversation. Especially not while both of them were naked.

“Ah…” Baiya smiled and Pangu found it incredibly difficult to look at his face. Most of his chest was above the water and several scars littered his skin, each of which he was sure had a unique story. He’d learned from Kira not to ask people about their scars, however. “This entire city was founded by Xiang Phaos, wasn’t it?”

Pangu’s head snapped back up along with his attention. “Y-yes. That was what my teachers told me.”

“Wasn’t he one of the few Xiang who had a wife and a child?”

He nodded. Only Phaos, Glena, and Don had taken lovers and only the first two had offspring.

“So is the rule about the Xiang not having relationships because of him or was it something that existed before?” Baiya asked curiously. Not only was it something he didn’t know a lot about but he also wanted to hear Pangu’s perspective on the matter.

“It has always been a rule,” he said, feeling more comfortable now that they were talking about Xiang related things. He could think back to his mentors and their lessons and a lot of his wayward thoughts seemed to dissipate. “Tiandi chooses a Xiang when the world is in peril and he appoints them the task of stopping the Shakti—usually this means getting rid of miasma but not always. The point it that, as Xiang, we have too much on our plate to worry about romance.”

“What about when the task is finished?”

“I…” He frowned. Most Xiang were never finished or died at the very end of their journeys. “They usually don’t make it.”

“They don’t?” Baiya tilted his head to the side.

“Most stories I know end in the Xiang dying once they accomplish their mission. Those who took lovers were usually hindered by it and Xiang Don even died protecting his lover—he did not accomplish what he was set out to do.”

The Agni disciple frowned. “That is a terribly sad life.”

“Maybe.” Pangu shrugged. “All I was taught was to not be distracted. So I haven’t been.” That was a bit of a lie but the man didn’t need to know that.

“You don’t desire any kind of relationship? You don’t feel that you are missing something?” he asked and walked a little closer.

“No…” Pangu gulped and dipped further down in the water, letting it come up to his chin. “Even…even if the Xiang was allowed to have a partner, I still would be unable to be with who I wanted anyway.”

Baiya felt his heart sink but he pressed him anyway, “Why is that?”

He wasn’t sure why he was admitting it and to Baiya of all people but it was out of his mouth before he could properly take the time to consider his words. “Because my attraction is with men.”

The other man’s eyebrows rose though he wasn’t entirely surprised. It seemed the entire group of them were in the same category and Pangu being attracted to men would explain his draw towards others like him. Himself included. “Oh.”

“I know it is forbidden by Tiandi but I will never act on it anyway,” Pangu explained himself and rose back up, “Though, I am not sure Tiandi even wrote those particular laws but in the eyes of the world at large, I know it is unacceptable.”

“You know, here in Agni it is not even for religious reasons that people look down on those relationships,” Baiya offered though he wasn’t sure how much it would help.

“Really?” Pangu hadn’t considered the fact that Agni was still against “impure unions” while also not being religious. He hadn’t thought much on it.

His disciple nodded. “It is seen as unproductive and selfish. You are to procreate and carry on your family line. Make sons for the military. Etcetera. If my mother didn’t love me as much as she does, she would have disowned me by now for not making her grandchildren.”

Pangu laughed a little and took a moment to collect himself before asking, “Is there any reason you haven’t…?”

Baiya smiled. “Because I’m like you.” After a second where Pangu had to take that information in, he added, “Though I haven’t had much time on my hands lately to seek out a partner.”

“Oh…you don’t say…” Pangu gulped. The spring suddenly felt much hotter and he couldn’t control the unruly thoughts running through his mind. Part of him screamed to just admit his feeling to Baiya but he knew that would only lead to disaster so he took a deep breath and re-centered himself. “I guess that just leaves Raine as being the only normal one, huh.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the man disregarded him, “I have some suspicions about him.”

“Raine?!” Pangu questioned and then laughed.

Baiya smirked. “Yeah. Raine.”

He chuckled some more and thought about what he could have caught onto. After a second, he slipped further down into the water again. “I wonder if you noticed the same thing that I did then,” he dared to say.

The other man raised an eyebrow. “Which would be…?”

Pangu shook his head. “You say it first.”

Baiya laughed. “His obsession with Kira?”

At that, Pangu nodded and then covered his face to laugh some more. They might have been far from the truth but, in the moment, it was fun to speculate.

Plus, it took some of the tension out of the air to talk about the other two. Pangu could keep his thoughts in check so long as they weren’t talking about themselves.

#the xiang chronicles #my novel #my writing

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