#its not that high but usually they need a log or whatever to climb from but Annie

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress (pt.II)

Hello again! I hope your having an amazing day, night, or morning! Don't forget to drink water!

Warnings: mention of Alcohol, swearing

Words: 5,951

   The time spent on the ship was long, tiring and freezing. The weather danced between rain, sleet, snow, and hail. Complete opposite of what conditions you were used to. But thankfully land was just up ahead. The ever changing weather shifting finally for snow. As the snow danced in the sky you couldn't help notice the beauty, back at your village snow was basically never seen. unless you went to the higher elevations that is.

   As you approached the tiny harbor the captain made it very clear he would not be staying. He was here to drop you off and leave, not wanting to stay long at the Empire. This had you chewing your lip, finding your way home would be up to you at the end of this. Which wouldn't be so bad usually, but you didn't know anyone. So it was bad.

   When they docked you took your things. The sword carefully wrapped up and strapped to your back, your bag sitting atop it. you'd be damned if your going to loose that blade now that you were finally at your destination. You carefully got off the boat with a little help from a crew member. Trying not to fall from the ice already forming.

   The first thing you could notice about the land was the unfamiliar sharp smell in the air of winter. It was absolutely freezing. You pulled your cloak around you more, slowly making your way to the small village. The land definitely wasn't welcoming. Besides the village there was just plain barren land, draped with light fluffy snow. The village was however quaint. Logged cabins stood as a contrast against the white snow. Smoke rose up into the air by winding, and straight chimneys. Looking around at the village almost looked like a nice painting. But when you look up you realize the quaint little village was surrounded by ice spikes. They looked as if the gods had thrown them as spears, impaling the earth. Although beautiful, the thought of one of them crashing down on you, had you weary.

   The people were the second thing you noticed. They were mostly hybrids, but humans were also seen wondering about. As you walked away from the harbor more people came into view. The people were so beautiful, it almost took you by surprise. Tucked beneath large fur lined cloaks you could see a similarly of sharp featured faces. Even the human hybrids looked ethereal, ranging from tall divine Enderman, Piglins, animals, your sure you even saw a Shulkerbox.

   The once quiet humming streets were soon differentiated by a loud buzzing noise that shook you from your admiring state, your turned to see rather large... things? The things you were looking at were made out of metal, that much you could easily see. A bright blue painted sun sat on the side. The signa of the Antarctic Empire. On the top of the metal contraption there were wings. Two of them, spanning way out on the sides. The things slowly circled until they landed in the barren field. There were four of them, all of them slowly landing one at a time. Slowly they moving to the village edge. You sat and watched with curiosity until the buzzing had stopped.

   At this point you realized how cold you were. You tore your eyes away from the metal contraptions. Looking around for a place to seek warmth. You saw a Bar up ahead and instantly knew that would be the best place to start. Walking over, minding the large banks of snow, you pushed the door open. Instantly you met with a rush of warm air. A smile fell on your lips, man you missed that feeling. Being on the boat they only had lanterns, and you better believe that did not keep you warm. You pushed in further. Looking around for a seat, the only ones you could find were at the Bar it self. Setting your bag by your feet, sword still strapped to your back you climbed onto the stool. You couldn't help but look around at the décor. Behind the bar, the shelfs were covered with random bottles and bottles of liquor. Some almost gone and some not even opened yet. The walls were lined with mounts from hunts, elk, deer, the occasional game animals. The one that shocked you was the bear. Back at your village bear was not local, so seeing a mount of one, and the sheer size they were was kind of terrifying.

   The bar it self was mostly filled with men and the occasional women. Some people were gambling, but most were just drinking and laughing. Enjoying each others company. After summing the atmosphere up you turned to the bartender and offered a shy smile.

   "Wha'd you like?" He asked, his voice was deep and gruff. He was dressed very nice, a vest with a white button up. His hair combed back, he looked like he was ready for a date with someone. He had a hard face, but did offer a smile.

   "Whatever you recommend?..." You asked a bit sheepishly. He smiled wider, nodding before he turned his back. Starting to prepare your drink. You took your time to look around more. The wood of the bar under your hands was nice, kinda reminded you of sitting back at the kitchen table with your family. Your family. The thought of them pained you. After being away for a bit you came to see how much of a homebody you really were. Your mothers kind smile, morning coffee with your father, the roosters crowing to alert the farmers of morn. The smell of dew on the grass. The sigh that escaped your lips was one of lonesome.

   Unbeknownst to you, a stranger had entered the bar. The quiet chatter soon died down to nothing. A few groups of people even decided to leave the bar as a whole. The strange man, a tall one for sure, pulled out the stool and sat next to you. With him came three men as well. All were dressed in high ranking military attire. Combat boots adorned there feet well heavy cloaks draped there shoulders. Beneath the cloaks something was definitely poking up towards the ceiling. The fur that lined the cloaks was not mere rabbit or minx. It was big, and definitely fluffy. But oh so warm. The fourth man, the strange tall man, stood out. He was in a heavy cloak as well, but also in robes of green instead of blues. He wore a white hat with green stripes. His face had a bit of stubble, but it looked nice. His hair was sandy blonde, with fairly straight locks. It was a tad on the longer side, but he had it pulled into the hat mostly. Only a braid and a bit of bangs poped out the front. Besides the normality of his appearance, the thing that stuck out were his Great wings. There were the color of a raven, but on a much greater scale.

   "Hello" His voice rang though as he addressed the bartender. This caught your attention, pulling you from your thoughts of your parents. Looking to the men you had immediately noticed the military attire, it was unsettling to say the least. You glanced away, feeling like you shouldn't be looking at them. The atmosphere had grown tense. Deciding to face down instead of the new company, you noticed the bartender had set a drink in front of you. The liquid was clear, unsure if it was water however due to a weird strong burning smell.

   Your attention was drawn back to the man again, he whispered something to the three military men before they left with a swift nod. for some reason the military men were more terrifying than the man next to you. At there leave, the blonde gentleman was alone at the bar. His gaze met with your curious one.

   "Hello there little one" he said gently. His voice was kind, and light hearted. The smile that laced his lips was nothing near malicious.

   "Hello" with your reply you gave a light nod. Still a little unsure.

   "You don't look like your from around here" He must have known, or judged your lack of warmer heavier clothes. You could only nod in agreement. "What brings you to the Empire? You hav'ta be fucking stupid to come here for a vacation" he mused, his sight chuckle was warm to hear. You couldn't help but smile a bit at his contagious one.

   "I actually came to deliver this sword to the Empire.. I'm just uncertain how to get to the capital" his interest almost visibly double.

   "Really now" He removed his hat. Setting it aside, you could see a hanging emerald from his ear. "Did you make the sword yourself?" He took his drink and easily downed the whole thing, facing you for curiosity. Wherever he came from he was obviously very thirsty.

   "I did actually, I'm quite proud of it too.. i believe its the best one ive made yet" your smile grew wider. He hummed as he set the glass down with a light 'tink'. He shrugged his outer cloak off. You took note of how the slits were made to form around the massive wings.

   "Not many women smith's out there, if your blade is chosen i hav'ta think its a pretty damn good one. Do you have your letter?" He inquired. You nodded. Leaning down, sifting through your things. Pulling out the neatly folded letter. You gently handed it to him. His hands were gloved with thick black leather, guarding what you assume is his hands from the climate. He opened the letter and glanced it over, his eyes lingering the seal. "Well I'll be damned. Alrighty then. Do you need a ride by chance?" You tilted your head a bit. Taking the letter back.

   "A ride?" He chuckled, Nodding to you.

   "You don't have a idea where the capital is do you?" You shook your head slowly. Feeling a little foolish now. "Hey, hey. I didn't mean it rudely. Your not familiar around here. I gotta swing by the capital after this stop. I could give you a ride if you would like. Save ya' a lot of trudging in the snow.".

   "Oh! R-right!" You nodded. "Please id actually really like that".

   "Perfect, we can leave whenever you'd like. Although I recommend we leave soon. Flying at night is a fuckin' nightmare" he stated.

   Your brow furrowed. "Flying? You mean with your wings?".

   "No mate, I mean with the plane". He leaned in his chair. Folding his hands on his lap. His strong blue eyes never waved away from yours. When he leaned back you noticed a long hilt attached to his hip. Your eyes flickered from his eyes to the hilt.

   "What's a plane?" You asked curiosity lingering your voice. He laughed a deep chested laugh. Only making you feel a bit stupid at your question now. When he noticed you weren't joking he went surprised.

   "Oh your actually serious. Erm.." he paused a bit. Trying to think. "Where exactly do you come from?" He asked. Leaning closer to you now. His brows were slightly knit together in confusion.

   "Oh.. I uhm. came from a small village out in Madagascar." You watched him as you moved your hands to your lap.

   "You haven't seen a plane?" He asked again. Almost just to clarify that if you were joking, this would be the time to out yourself. You shook your head. "Hunh. Well then.." he said Shrugging. "Fair enough. Here come with me." He said as he stood, brushing his hair back before placing his cap on. He patted his coat a bit. You watched. Assuming he meant for you to stand was well. "Shit.." he mumbled. You realized he was looking for money.

   "Oh- here I got it" you dug in your pocket and handed a few coins over to the bartender. The blonde watched. Almost mentally taking note. The bartender gave you a weird look when you handed the money over.

   "You didn't drink your glass miss" you looked down and realized. You took it and took a sip expecting water. It wasn't water. You nearly spit it out. But swallowed instead to spare the embarrassment. The blonde man laughed at your face as it contorted into disgust. It burned the whole way down your throat, filling your body with a quick glow of warmth. The stranger took the glass from you and took a wif, laughing more before easily downing it.

   "Good to know vodka doesn't agree with you" he said still laughing. You watched as he set the glass down, pulling his cloak on. Well you grabbed your things you looked up and noticed he had a signa of the empire on it.

   "Why does it burn so much?.." you asked, wishing you never took that sip. He mused at you well you two walked side by side together.

   "Ah, don't worry so much on it. I have actual water in the plane you can have" he walked towards the metal contraption with you. At this you assumed this was a 'plane'. Gods was it big.

   "How does it fly?" You asked looking it over in curiosity. He only hummed before answering.

   "Its actually really simple. The propeller in the front will spin and gets air going. Once there's enough momentum it will pull the plane forward, i just steer it up and we will glide." He explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world. You didn't quite fully understand. But something told you he didn't expect you too. He climbed up and asked for your bag. Placing it in the plane where there were two seats. After your bag was situated he offered you a heavy cloak. It was lined with thick fur. "Your going to want this. It gets cold in flight. You nodded and pulled it on your shoulders. Instantly feeling the warmth and heaviness the cloak brought. You saw his hand come down reaching for yours. "Here let me help you up" his hand was firm and definitely a strong one. Pulling you up like it was nothing. Once you were on the wing of the plane he helped you steady yourself. He grabbed your waist without warning and lifted you up like a child. "Go ahead and step in- Mind your feet though, step on the seat and then sit" you fallowed his instructions. Feeling his grip slip from your waist as you sunk into the cockpit. You took note at how low you sat in the seat, there were buttons and two weird looking things beside you. They were long and bulky, you wouldn't touch them since you obviously had no idea what they did. He easily hopped into the front seat well he folded his wings carefully. Being mindful of the limited space the seats offered.

   "I never caught your name" you said looking up to the back of the man.

   "Oh that's right, I'm Philza. What's your name?" He asked as he turned his head towards you a bit.

   "Nice to meet you Philza, I'm (y/n)" he smiled more fallowing it up with him being pleased to meet you. "If I can ask. What are these?" You inquired. Pointing to the bulky long things next to you.

   "Oh those are my rifles'" he stated simply. You blinked in slight confusion. 'Rifles? The hell's a Rifle?' Your silence gave away your confusion. "Its a Gun. A type of weapon. Its faster than a bow and just as dangerous" you gave a little 'oh' in response. "The safety is on. It cant hurt you, I promise" he stated as he started up the plane. The loud buzzing starting up. "I usually fly alone, unless I'm with Tech. This should he interesting" he said with a wide smile. You felt the plane lurch before it moved. On instinct you gripped your seat. You were forced back as the plane lifted up from the ground. You couldn't help but watch as the little village grew smaller. You soon got awfully high, it was frightening to say the least. But something told you the man driving wouldn't let anything hurt you. Philza carefully maneuvered around the giant ice spikes. Flying with ease like a bird. "Go ahead and get comfortable. We'll be a slight bit" you saw him adjust in his seat, presumably getting more comfortable. You glanced the ground again before sinking into your seat yourself. Pulling the cloak around you more, enjoying the warmth it brought you. The loud buzz made you realize you were honestly quite tired. Well you were on the ship you worked from dawn until past dusk. Feeling no forceful urge to do anything currently, you let the gentle rock of the plane lull you to sleep.

   "Aye, kiddo?" You herd someone call, nudging you a slight bit. You shifted, realizing you were in a seat. Memories from before your nap rushed forward as you opened your eyes, wiping the sleep from them. Phil sat with a smile as he stood on the wing of the plane. "Took a nap i see. Don't blame you, c'mon lets get you inside." Your eyes flickered around, sleep still lingering making your eyes heavy. It was now nighttime, and Phil was right the temperature does drop when the sun goes down. "Were at the palace" he said as he took your shoulders. Lifting you up like a child again. Setting you on the wing of the plane. You held onto his arm to steady yourself.

   "Palace?" You mumbled. Still trying to wake up more. Phil just gave a hum and a firm nod before handing you your bag, and the blade. He stepped off the wing and helped you down. You thanked him and looked around in awe. You were in a large open room. Planes were lined up everywhere, it honestly was amazing.

   "Fallow me" he stated. Smiling at you as he made his way across the floor. You fallowed, walking around the lined up planes. Soon you two found a corridor. The walls were made of whites, greys, blues and the occasional green-blue-ish tint. Pillars lined the corridors, as small candle lit chandeliers illuminated them. Shadows dancing with the flick of the flame. The floors were carpeted down the middle. White marble on the outsides. The dark oak details contrasted all the white so beautifully.

   "Dadza!!" You herd a child yell. You turned with Phil to see a boy no older than 12 with brown hair running to phil. His curls bounced as he ran, his wide smile shining. The child, was more than beaming with love as he threw himself into Philza's arms.

   "Hi bud" Phil had bended down to the Childs size. Hugging him close to his chest. As he smiled back at the child before he explained to you. "(Y/n), this is my son Wilbur" you gave a nod as Wilbur waved cheerfully. Hugging tightly to his father. Phil rested his hand on top of Wilbur’s head, ruffling the curls. You didn't think he was a father, but somehow now that you see him with a child- his son to be exact. How he treated you now, and back at the bar, makes sense now.

   "Tech, said you wouldn't be here until tomorrow!" Wil said cheerfully, having a awful lot of energy for the time of night. Wil was honestly an adorable child. He was tall, thin, but very well dressed. Golden glasses rested on his nose, his attire consisted of a white button down, and simple black pants. his sleeves were rolled up slightly, showing he was working. happy enough to say, you could tell he was well taken care of. You herd the name 'Tech' get thrown around again. You herd Phil mention that name before you fell asleep, but it never really stuck out.

   "Did he now" the boy hummed in agreement. "Did he also scold you for being out of bed?" Phil lifted a brow challengingly to Wil. His tone taking on a more strict role. In response Wil merely shrugged. 

“He may have mentioned it.” Wil’s tone was casual, it also showed that he didn't take Phil’s tone too seriously. Phil in turn just rolled his eyes with a sigh.

   We came to two tall wooden doors. A guard opening one at the sight of Phil, and Wilbur. You still weren't sure how, or why, you were in the palace. Nor how no one questioned your presence. You didn't feel like questioning much. Feeling like you were far out of the loop quite honestly.

   Past the doors was a medium sized circular room. In the center stood a tall man. His shoulders were wide and brawn. He had a boar's skull as a mask. The tusk's adorned with jewelry. His ears were well pierced with golden chains and tiny diamonds. You caught that like Phil, the man had a single emerald earring. He definitely stood out to say the least. He had pink hair, neatly pulled into a ponytail. Braids shown through his hair, offering a contrast to the soft flowing pink. On one braid he had a black feather attached. His clothes shown a higher status. He had a white button down that was slightly undone at the top, you saw reading glasses attached on a chain that hung around his neck. A red sash sat wrapped around his waist, pulling together the white and black he wore. He had a larger sword strapped to his waist, the hilt of the sword was long and adorned with gold. His black pants were neatly tucked into his boots. He stood arms crossed. Almost like he was expecting Phil.

   "Eh?.." was all he said when he saw you and phil.

   "Ah Techno. I see your still awake too" the man called 'Techno' gave a nod to phil. "(Y/n), this is my other son, Technoblade" you looked from Phil, to Wil, and then to techno. There was a age gap between the boys, but you couldn't tell the exact age. Techno’s stature made you assume he was much older. since he was taller than Phil, not by much however."(Y/n) is here for the weapon call. She has her letter if you would like to see" Phil explained to techno. Instead of a response techno merely faced you. You were not able to see his eyes or much of a expression. Only his jaw was seen since the boar skull had no lower jaw. Techno's jaw however sat in a stoic, locked placement. Soon his monotone voice came through. It was low, smooth and captivating.

   "You came for the weapon call?" He questioned, his voice, nor his stance wavered. the closer you got to Techno you saw how broad he was built. His shoulders looked as if he could have supported anvil’s on them. His stature and his voice made him very menacing. You gave a slight nod. Techno only faced you shortly before he faced Phil again. "I'll test the weapon tomorrow." He stated plainly. You saw Phil nod his head in agreement.

   Phil faced you next "We have a spare room you can stay in" he flashed you a warm smile. Techno stood beside him, contrasting the warmth you felt from Phil. Techno however, did step back to allow you to fallow Phil. Techno never looked away from you. He was facing you well you passed. It unnerved you a little, you couldn't see his eyes, but man you could tell he was staring at you. The thought of how one man could have a happy smiling boy, and then one that stuck fear into you for simply breathing his air didn't make a lick of sense. Scary or not you would give it to Techno. He made terrifying look nice.

   The palace was larger than you expected, but still beyond elegant. Wil wondered beside Phil casually. Thinking on the ‘Weapon Call’ you decided now was a good time to bring it up. well fallowing Phil down the beautiful corridors you spoke up.

   “is there anyone else here?” you watched Phil’s back. Well walking the halls he had removed his cap, so you were at least able to see his expression a bit. from what you could see he was pondering his answer.

   “Yeah.. Yeah, no we’ve had others here for it” the suggestion of ‘had’ made your brows knit together. Wil shot a glance back to you before glancing his father. Phil must have took this as a chance to explain. “we had a few people show, they couldn't beat the test however.” his tone was casual. the idea of a test made your stomach drop. ‘what kind of test?’, ‘what will they do to the blade?’, ‘what happens if I fail?’, questions raced your mind. 

   “t...test?” you worded it hesitantly, only earning a hum of agreement. 

   “techno is very peculiar on what he wants in a sword. it has to fit to his strength and his taste.” Phil paused briefly, “Sadly no sword so far, has been strong enough to withstand his strength.”. oh you could have died on the spot at that. that was the equivalent of ‘Oh yeah, thanks for coming thousands of miles. here's your participation ribbon’. the only response you could muster was a simple ‘Oh’. At your response Wil turned to face you, walking backwards. 

   “Don't feel discouraged, techno can be a mighty dick when he wants to be-” at that you stifled a laugh as he was swatted upside the head by Phil.

    after the light comment from Wil, the three of you fell into silence. occasionally you saw a painting or two, one did stand out though upon passing. There was a beautiful woman, she looked kinder than any woman you’ve seen to be honest. In her arms was a baby, wrapped up and peacefully asleep. By her arms stood Phil, he had a kind, warm smile. Your eyes moved down the painting. in between the couple stood a young child, he had pink hair and a shy smile. he looked like a sweet kid, you could automatically assume who the family was just from the child and Phil.

   Soon the room came to view. it was at the end of the corridor, which honestly didn't bother you. The thought of a comfortable bed  had you more excited than you cared to admit. Phil opened the door for you. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. breakfast is around six to ten.” Phil and Wil watched you walk in, looking around in awe at the glorious room. “I’ll have a maid get you some warmer clothes too. If your staying for a bit I can promise you will want something heavier than what you have.” You turned back to face him a thankful smile on your lips.

   “Thank you...” you were so thankful. You knew you would have to find a way to make it up to them for letting you stay. Especially without the permission of the Emperor. Phil nodded and bid a goodnight with Wil at his side. When you herd the door ‘click’ shut you couldn't help but look around again. So much had happened in under 24 hours that processing it all was hard. What started as meeting a strange man in a bar, turned into staying at the palace. talk about right time, right place. You smiled at the thought, you hoped that whatever was guiding you would continue.

   You set your bag down at the foot of the bed. taking the blade off your back. it was heavy, feeling the weight lifted off was a blessing all by itself. you carefully set the blade on the ottoman at the end of your bed. you turned your head towards the window. when you approached you didn't expect to see much, but oh you should have. outside was a view worth a million words. It wasn't a village, it was a prosperous city. Massive didn't even begin to explain the size. You couldn't even fathom how many people lived here. the city could have held your small village twenty times over. you knew the Antarctica Empire was large and powerful. but you never expected this. Your smile fell slowly.

   At that though you looked away from the city, facing back into your room. the four post bed was calling your name. Grabbing your clothes from your bag you changed into something you could comfortably sleep in. well changing new thoughts raced your mind. you knew the empire was known for being harsh and dangerous. yet so far all you have seen is beauty and kindness. this made you weary ‘was this all a painted face?’, ‘was this what they wanted you to see?’ ‘under this, is the whole country suffering under dictatorship?’. you thought back to Phil's face, the smiles he offered you. The Painting of the family. nothing said they were malicious. But nothing cemented that they were also kind people. you were a traveler. a foreigner, you didn't belong here. Your only here because your bringing a ‘gift’. When the gift looses its price then what? What will happen to you? What happened to those who gave blades previously?

   You didn't want to think anymore. You simply wanted to sleep. Pushing the heavy covers back you crawled into the unfamiliar bed. You pulled and pushed pillows until you could find a comfortable spot. You adjusted your head a bit and slowly fell into the embrace of a deep sleep. 

   Morning came faster than you anticipated. There were no birds chirping or the sound of deep waves rolling. Instead it was a warm fireplace. You rolled over, rubbing your eyes before arching your back in a stretch. The bed was warm and pleasant. You rolled your head and saw a pair of blue toned clothes at the foot of the bed. Those must have been the clothes that Phil mentioned last night. you found a old grandfathers clock in the corner. The hands pointed at 8:26. Thinking over what may await today you pushed yourself up. Gently running your fingers over the material, you were genuinely surprised. it was heavy and from what you would gage, warm. a sweet smell lingered, looking about you saw there was a bathroom connected. walking closer the smell of Chai grew. there was a bath prepared for you. you glanced the time, the clothes and then the bath again. ‘I mean it wouldn't hurt’.

   You cleaned yourself, the water wasn't scalding hot, but it was just enough. It was welcoming. The baths on the ship were nothing to this, the ones on the sea were often cold and nothing you wanted to linger in. Where here you could stay in the warm water all day, if you thought you could get away with it. You didn't linger though. You simply cleaned up and stepped out. letting the water out. Stepping out of the bathroom was horrible. The steam had tricked you into a false security of warmth. The room was cold, goosebumps ran your skin making you hurry to dress. The clothes were made incredibly well. Nothing from what you had back at your village. The base of the clothes consisted of a long black shirt and simple black pants. After that it was simple layering. You had a jacket similar to a cloak almost, over that a simple blue cape to drape over your shoulders. you assumed it had no signa to show you were not one of the empires people. There were gold as accents on the sleeves of the jacket, and on the cape itself. the whole fit was elegant. you saw your old shoes next to boots. slipping the boots on you wondered out. to find something to eat. your stomach turning in knots from the lack of food. 

   when you turned the corner you saw Phil. he smiled at you “Ah, just  came to see if you were up” he was dressed similar to last night. only instead he had no fluffy cloak or hat atop is head, he only had simple blue robes. his wings were spread slightly. but he payed no mind to them. he offered you a arm. “Ready for food? hope we have somthi’n you like” you smiled kindly.

   “I'm sure anything you offer I will be ok with, I still owe you for letting me stay” you said, looking out the windows of the corridor. the day was brilliant. blue skies and a bright sun. the sun came through the windows. warming you more when you passed through it’s rays.

   “awh, I wouldn't think too much on it. after all you came all this way on your own” he was right, you did make this trip all by yourself. something you were proud to say you did. Phil opened a dark oak door to show a nice table. Techno sat at the head of the table, Wilbur sitting to the left of him. There were two empty prepared seats to his right you assumed this was for Phil and you. 

   Wilbur was already digging into his breakfast like it was his last meal. God forbid if anyone put there hand between his food and his mouth, they may have lost it. he was dressed up a bit more than you recall previously. his white button down now had a jacket overtop, with a few draping pendants. his elegant clothes contrasted his hair that was still a wild curly mess. 

   Unlike last night Techno was dressed even more extravagant. instead of his white button down, he was in a military's uniform. A cape adorned his sturdy shoulders draping elegantly on him. unlike yesterday he did not have his reading glasses, instead it was replaced by golden chains and pendants. his hair was similar to yesterday, only instead it was braided back, tinier braids were swept into the main braid. one of them having the feather. not a strand of hair fell out of place. beneath the pink you could see the emerald earing he wore. the same one Phil wore. the thing that stuck out the most was the golden crown that adorned his head. His hands were folded, his chin resting on them. his face was still hidden by the Boar skull. but that didn't stop you from seeing all the rings that he wore.

“mornin’ Tech, Wil” Phil said casually. he only had a response from techno, but even then it was monotone. your eyes watched the crown on Techno's head. after seeing all the signs you now realized that you were staying with the royal family. Where Phil took his seat you had stopped mid tracks. ‘could you even eat with them?’ Phil gave you a weird look. “somthin’ wrong (y/n)?” 

   “Can I eat with you?” they way you said that made you sound childish, but in fact it was a genuine question. At your words Phil get out a laugh.

   “Of course you can, what’d you think we’d do? eat in front of you?” he was amused at you. His smile wide as Wil stopped eating to look up at you. “what makes you think your not welcome to eat with us?” he questioned, his tone shifting softer.

   “Your the Royal family. I didn't think...” you trailed off as techno spoke. 

   “A Emperor is simply a title. If he cannot break bread with others, he has no right to claim the throne that he sits on. You and I are humans. let us break bread” he said simply. 

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #TE

[thiswasinevitableid]

if you're in the mood for requests i would absolutely LOVE something from the hidebehind au? (maybe including blindfold sex??)

Here you go! I decided to do this for monster march. We’ll figure this counts as prompt 18: claws.

All things considered, Duck is lucky. He’s employed which, given when the newspapers are calling the great depression raging across the country, is a blessing. His days are spent among the mighty trees of the Pacific Coast, he has a small cabin all to himself, and a cat to keep the mice away. 

He just wishes he wasn’t working for a fucking logging company hundreds of miles away from anyone he’s ever known. 

Winthrop Logging needed someone with an arborist or botanists training to make sure the woods stayed healthy before they were chopped down. So they pay Duck a fine sum to make sure diseases or pests don’t send their prospects toppling like dominos. As he traverses his usual route between the trees, he wonders if there will ever be a way to convince them to preserve some of the land rather than profit from it. 

He stops, studying a pine. There it is again, the feeling that someone, or something, is behind him. Watching. Waiting. 

It started three weeks ago, when he was deeper in the woods than usual, humming to himself and occasionally talking to the trees. The skin on his neck prickled, all his senses forcing him from his thoughts and into the present moment; something was there, tracking him as he moved. Not a bear, our a cougar, as the birds still called and the insects chorused. Whatever it was stood directly behind him, yet when he turned to look, there was nothing but the path. 

For the first few days he tried to spot it, never got more than a flicker in the corner of his eye. He came home exhausted, the day spent on high alert as the primal part of his mind demanded he remain on guard for the moment his hunter decided to strike. 

The moment hasn’t come, and Duck is growing used to the gaze crawling up his spine. He decided to ignore it, pretend it was just his imagination and some days that worked. 

Today, there’s no getting around the fact that something is peering over his shoulder. Twice now he’s felt fingers millimeters from his neck. When he feels them again, he reaches his arm back, eyes firmly on his notes, and grabs hold of his stalker.

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

Humans are not known for their speed. Indrid’s foresight showed this one as no exception, so when the man is fast enough to grab his leg, he chirps in surprise. 

“Fuckin knew it, there is someone back there.” Warm fingers smooth across the short down of his leg.

Indrid appreciates being called a someone instead of a thing, but not the position of Duck’s hand. 

“Please let go. That is my thigh you are grabbing. My upper thigh.”

The hand stays put, “Anyone ever tell you it’s mighty rude to stand right behind a fella when he’s tryin to work?”

“I cannot stand anywhere else, though the proximity is due to-”

“Uh huh, sure, just like you can’t help but play and hide and seek whenever I try to figure out what’s goin on. Lemme guess, you’re one of the other fellas from the loggin camp playin tricks on the new guy?”

“I am nothing of the kind.” Indrid contemplates moving the hand himself, but it feels so very nice.

“One of the locals then? I keep tellin you, I’m a country boy, I’m not gonna get scared by campfire tales or weird noises in the woods. Try that government fella instead.”

“What about the part of me you are touching suggests I am human?”

“Probably a left-over monkey suit or somethin’ from Halloween.”

“I am not a costume, I am a Hidebehind.”

The human pauses, then shakes his head, “No such thing.”

“You are literally touching one.” Indrid stamps his foot, frustrated by the turn this is taking and the fact that futures do not show the human believing him any time soon. 

“Don’t believe I am.” The human turns his head. Indrid’s body whips sideways, keeping him from view. The human holds on, tries again from the opposite direction, only for Indrid to be wrenched back the way he came. 

“Stop movin!”

“Stop trying to look at me!” He’s twisted to the side once more, wrenching the humans arm in the process. 

“Ow!” The grip on him tightens, “quit this fuckin game right now. You don’t lemme see you, I’ll drag you right back to camp with me.”

“I can’t!” Indrid chirps, panicked, the noise continuing into a wail of alarm at what might happen if he’s surrounded with nowhere to hide. 

His fear must register as genuine, as the human releases him with a sigh. After a moment he removes his hat, running his fingers through his hair but not turning around. 

“You still there?” 

“Yes.”

“Why are you even followin me in the first place?”

A peek at the futures says the truth will be most effective, though almost all timelines end with the human telling him to “get gone.”

“I find you intriguing. You do not chop or hack at my home, you study it. You speak to the trees when you think you are alone. You look soft to touch, especially the fur on your head. I like looking at you and being near you. That was why I stood so close.”

“...You been followin me because you’re sweet on me?” The drawl, as soothing as movement of water through plant limbs, seems confused. 

“I do not find you sweet. I could only do that if I ate you. Which I do not want to do.

A chuckle, “Not quite what I meant. You been hangin around me because you think I’m swell and wanna get to know me. Guess I can’t fault you for that, I'm a decent fella to know if I do say so myself.  You got a name?”

“Indrid.” This is an unexpected turn of the timelines. 

“Nice to meet you, Indrid. I’m-”

“-Duck” Indrid says along with him, “apologies, I can see the future and am thus a bit ahead in conversations.”

“Huh. Well, I gotta head back to town. If you wanna talk again, I won’t mind. Just tell me you want to instead of lurkin, you hear?”

Indrid grins, “Yes. I hear you perfectly.”

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

“Fuck” Duck picks himself up from the dirt where he fell, brushing pine needles from his coat. He’d been angling for a better look at a set of roots and tripped over a different set in the process. 

“Are you alright?” A now familiar voice asks from behind a tree to his left. 

“Depends. You see me make a fool of myself by fallin on my face?”

“Yes.”

“Then my body is fine but my dignity is real wounded.”

A laugh like spring breeze through new leaves, “I suspect it will recover. You do have quite a deal of leaves in your hair. May I help you with them?”

Duck nods. Slender fingers pluck at his hair.

“Ohhh, it is just as soft as I thought it would be.” Indrid murmurs, “does it feel nice?”

“Don’t feel like much--oh, uh, fuck, that does though. Feels damn good.” Duck groans as claws scritch his scalp. The first time he felt them on his shoulder when Indrid was talking, he tensed; The hidebehind isn’t small, and the claws suggest he could shred Duck to bits and scatter him across the woods. But after weeks of keeping him company, Duck knows the worst Indrid might do to him is steal too much of his lunch. 

The hidebehind, endlessly fascinated by Duck’s job, will sit out of sight as he works. Duck asked him if he only watched Duck the entire time. It turns out the creature draws as well, and Duck now recognizes the sound of a pencil under the rustle of leaves and calls of wildlife. Indrid also spares Duck dangerous climbs into the trees, offering to look at marks or discoloration and describe them if they’re too high for the human to see. 

Turns out he also gives a mean rubdown, his claws moving from Duck’s head to his neck, banishing the knot that’s been bothering him all morning. 

“I like touching you.” Indrid chirps. Duck hasn’t forgotten their first meeting; if a man had come to him with such flattering shyness in his voice and an interest in Ducks body, he’d have been in Duck’s bed by the end of the night. 

He’s not ready to take a hidebehind home, but he’s ready to tease one.

“Seems mighty unfair that you get to touch and I don’t.”

“You would have to close your eyes to so much as shake my hand. My form does not care how little of me you would see, it will pull me into hiding regardless.”

“Then I’ll close my eyes.” Duck does just that, tips his head back so Indrid can see it’s safe. One hand continues massaging his head, while a spindly arm reaches around his chest.

“Bring your arms up, towards you a bit more, yes, there we are.” 

Duck runs his hands over the limb; it reminds him of Manzanita bark he saw in the Sierra Nevadas, smooth but unmistakably of the woods. Towards the elbow the texture changes to soft, short feathers, like the ones on Indrids leg. 

The hidebehind tightens his hold, pulling Duck to his torso. More feathers prickle the back of his neck and the creature shudders. 

“You alright back there?”

“I...it has been so very long since anyone or anything touched me. I foresaw my body being sensitive to it but the intensity is, is-” he lets go so suddenly Duck stumbles, “I am sorry, it was too much and yet I wanted, wanted more.”

Images of Indrid surrounding him, chirping and purring as Duck touches him all over, flood his mind. The embarrassment in his voice keeps the arborist from acting on them. 

“You, uh, gonna show me that Saw-Whet Owl nest?”

“Of course, sweet human. Take the right fork of that deer trail just ahead, and we shall go from there.”

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

“I have something for you. Close your eyes.” 

Duck, still perching on the stump he was using as a lunch chair, does as instructed. Indrid sets a piece of paper in his right hand. 

“You may now look.”

An illustration fills the entire page. It shows a being with stick-like arms and legs leading to a narrow body covered in short, leaf shaped feathers in mottled browns and greens. The face is angular, shaded to suggest it’s dusted with fuzz, and leads to several stick-shaped horns. The eyes are wide and black, the claws long, and there are short, triangular shapes behind its shoulders. 

“Holy fuck, you’ve got wings?”

“Indeed. I do not use them much. I believe they help my kind migrate when our habitats dwindle.”

Duck traces the face on the paper, “How long did it take you to make this?”

“Two days, as the lakes I use to study my reflection tend to attract townspeople and loggers looking to take a break from their toil.”

“You did all this just ‘cause I said I wished I knew what you looked like.”

“Not solely. I...I wanted to show you it as well. So you might know the face of the one who, ah, whose days you brighten.”

Carefully, Duck folds the portrait and tucks it into the inside pocket of his coat, “Find I like my work even better with your company too, ‘Drid. Would you, uh, be okay if I tried to match what you showed me to what I can feel?”

An intrigued chirr floats through the air as Duck shuts his eyes and waves to the ground in front of him. A scuff and rustle of dirt and leaves, and then he feels Indrid in front of him. Cool hands guide his own onto the multicolored feathers.

“Shoulders?”

“Correct.” Indrid moves their joined hands upwards, stopping on velvet-dusted cheeks, “oh, oh goodness, I have always wanted to be held like this.”

“Yeah?” Duck’s heartbeat is in his fingertips, “what else have you always wanted?”

“To, to be touched, to be known, toMMMphohh” a rough tongue laps at his lips as he pulls Indrid into an awkward, bowed kiss. 

“How’s that, darlin?” Duck kisses along what he thinks is Indrids’ jaw, “that the kind of knowin’ you in the mood for?”

“Yes, oh my sweet human you spoil me, oh” claws grab his shoulders, “I, do you really wish this, with me? This was in so few timelines I assumedAH” he squirms adorably as Duck gropes the feathers of his chest.

“You better believe it, sugar. It’s the weirdest goddamn thing I ever wanted and I want it, want you, more than I’ve wanted anything in a long fuckin time.” Curious and eager to fill every one of his senses with Indrid, he buries his face against his upper chest, finds skin beneath all the camouflage and bites down. The hidebehind keens, pulling Duck from his seat into his lap. Duck laughs, bites down once more and gets a nose full of fluff. 

“AhCHOO!” His eyes pop open on reflex after he sneezes, sending the hidebehind out of view and Duck flat on the ground. 

“Blasted physiology” Indrid chirrs, frustrated. 

Duck sits up, Indrid’s cries of pleasure ringing in his ears and giving him all kinds of reckless ideas. 

“Don’t worry, darlin. If my hidebehind wants to romancin’, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

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

He takes to wearing a kerchief around his neck at work. The loggers and company pencil pushers assume it’s an affectation, not a tool for covering his eyes for some uninterrupted kisses while deep in the woods.  Today, he’s not sure kisses will be enough. 

Duck woke up hard, dream of Indrid looming above him in bed fading into the morning sun. His hidebehind has yet to show himself, so the humans mind has nothing but his fantasies to distract him on his trek through the woods. 

He’s ahead on his tasks for the day. He’s five miles deep in the woods. And he’s got an idea. 

After rinsing his hands with water from his canteen, he leans back against a tree and undoes his suspenders, followed by his fly. Closing his eyes, he slips his fingers into his underwear, teasing himself and sending soft moans into the air. It doesn’t take long before he’s wet enough to push two up into himself with ease.

“‘Drid” he gasps, letting his head loll back, “‘Drid, fuck, that feels so fuckin good.”

A single leaf crunches in front of him, and his kerchief slowly slides up his face to shield his eyes. 

“It is about to feel much better, dear one.” Indrid kisses the top of his head, “Shall I take this shameless display as evidence that you wish for me to, ah, fuck you?”

“That it does. And I’ll have you know I got plenty of shaAAmeWHoah.” Duck flails as his pants fall down and his body flies up in one smooth motion. Indrids claws prick his thighs as he spreads them open, holding him against the trunk with ease. 

“So very polite of my sweet one to prepare himself for me. It makes this all the easier.” A round, bumpy cock teases his folds, pressing in with a stretch that makes Duck twist in his lovers hold. 

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so fucking good but holy fuck, are you packin a fuckin pine tree down thereOH, ohfuckdarlin, that’s, that’s as far as it’s gonna go.”

“Half of it? My, who knew my human could take so much? Wait, it is not too much, correct?”

“N-nope, just the right amount” the bumps rub every inch inside him, one on the shaft catching his cock as Indrid thrusts and wiggles his hips. 

“Wonderful” Indrid purrs, “I have dreamed of this all dayAHnnncareful” he chides after Duck bites the part of his arm he’s able to reach, “or I shall take you so roughly your back will wear imprints of bark for days.”

Duck whimpers excitedly, very aware of thick pre-cum dripping into him, “Yeah lets do that.”

He can hear the grin.

“If you insist.”

“FUCKohfuckohfuck” his hands scrabble at the tree and at Indrid’s arms, “that’s it darlin, that’s it, fuck, gonna give you the best goddamn rub-down after this, touch you until your body forgets what it’s like to be without my fuckin hands on it.” Leaves scatter in his hair and down the back of his shirt as Indrids fucking turns frantic. 

“I, I shall hold you to that AHhnn, sweet one, you are so tight, so deliciously slick and inviting, I, I am not going to last long, you are too perfect, just touching you makes me burn like wildfire” His thrusts sharpen, never pushing too deep but making Duck feel like a log split beneath an axe of ecstasy, “Duck, sweetheart, yes, yesyesyes” Indrid spills into him, cum running out of Ducks body and back down his shaft. 

For a minute, Duck is nothing more than a pinned specimen, spread eagle on the tree as Indrid shudders, purrs, and drags fuzzy kisses along his throat. Then his shirt rides up as he slips down the tree, but Indrid doesn’t put him down. Instead, a rough tongue glides up one thigh and then the other. The human gasps, gripping Indrid’s horns for balance as Indrid buries his face between his legs.

“Ohhhhhh, oh I do so love tasting how we mingle together.” Indrid’s breath is ragged and hot against his dick, “I am going to do this every day.”

“Please” Duck squeezes his horns, his orgasm painfully close, “please ‘Drid, wanna cum on your tongue, want you holdin me up while I, I-ohfuck.” His legs kick weakly as Indrid sucks him off, tongue lavishing his cock with so much friction he goes hoarse from moaning. The fact he cannot see makes it all the better, makes his world nothing more than Indrids mouth, his claws, his desire that wraps around Duck like vines. 

He cums, arching his hips into the “thank yous” Indrid presses to his legs. 

When his boots touch the ground, deft claws begin pulling his clothes into order, Indrid kissing and caressing him as he does. 

“Y’know, I can get my own britches up.” Duck ruffles a nearby patch of feathers. 

“I know, but I wish to take care of you. Hidebehinds are attentive to our mates, and while I cannot build you a nest, and I can least clean you up after you let me do something so wonderful with you.”

Duck wraps his arms around the cryptid, resting his cheek against him, “Would you wanna do this, uh, wonderful somethin again?”

“Of course.”

The human smiles, reaches his hand up to stroke Indrids cheek. This means he feels the hidebehind smile when Duck says, “Glad to hear it. But I’ll have you know, one of these days I’m gonna expect a nest.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #monster march #reader request #trans duck newton

[lastxviolet]

In Neglected Fields, the Fern Grows - CH. 1

Fred Weasley x OC

3,495 k

Ch. 1 / 10

Warnings: None for this chapter. Eventual smut 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13829826/1/In-Neglected-Fields-the-Fern-Grows

_______________________________

How someone in the wizarding world hadn't come up with a spell to mimic the brief high of a cigarette puff, Fern Longbottom had no clue. Being a witch would finally feel worth it if she could blast herself at least once every ten minutes to feel momentary relief instead of having to climb the god-awful moving staircase to smoke one cigarette in the Astronomy tower before she was missed by the other Prefect on rounds.

Not that they even needed her. Prefect duties had become much easier ever since Umbridge had taken over as the unofficial authority at Hogwarts. These days, nary a soul, besides the dead ones wandered the halls after hours, for fear of peeving off the menace in pink. She didn't much mind the strict witch's presence, but then again, she wasn't exactly in the line of fire, nor was anyone else in Ravenclaw. The only thing that did make her roll her eyes was that almost all of her duties and responsibilities had been bequeathed to undeserving Slytherins on the Inquisitional Squad. They were a pack of eager dogs, desperate to bring their master the best corpse. At least when she gave someone detention, it was rather painless and they actually deserved it.

Thankfully, she hadn't run into anyone who deserved it tonight. Not that she'd mind the company. Every hall she had passed on the way up the dizzying stairs, was empty. That was one thing she did miss from the time before Umbridge. Usually, there would be absolute chaos in every corner of the dark seventh-floor hallway but tonight, it was silent.

She skirted through the hall, ignoring the hairs on the back of her neck, reminding her of how dark and empty the hallway was. Without light pollution from civilizations nearby, nighttime at Hogwarts was deep and unrelenting until morning. Even in the castle, candles and fireplaces couldn't illuminate the stone rooms enough to fully ward off the hours of shadow. To make matters worse, she'd noticed in her tenure as Prefect that in the evenings, without company or companion, the cobble architecture swallowed sound. Footsteps, words, laughter, and voices dissipated upon utterance without a crowd to overpower the course sandstone abyss. She didn't normally like the quiet, in any capacity, but especially in the castle that could easily swallow her whole with various secret halls, doors, and chambers.

Even at home, quiet was no good. If Neville wasn't rambling on about Herbology or Gran wasn't lecturing her brother about speaking too fast or walking too slow, the air felt thick. It clung to her limbs, and filled her lungs, and brought her thoughts to a standstill. The emptiness that followed, before sound rushed back in, froze her. She'd read a quote once, walking out of St. Mungo's after a particularly somber visit to her parents that said, 'for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.' Whatever abyss Nietzsche was referring to, she doubted that he knew what real emptiness felt like.

You didn't look at it, and it didn't look at you. It was an extension of consciousness; unrelenting and irremovable. Emptiness was a hospital room with people who couldn't recognize you. Emptiness was seeing the same careless bravery that had gotten them there in her brother who seemed too eager for war. Emptiness was being powerless to change any of it. After a while, she'd didn't feel so empty anymore, realizing that she'd simply become the abyss.

Now, it took up a corner of her mind, whispering evil things and infuriating questions with no answer. Every action had an equal reaction, and she was powerless to control every single one, not for lack of trying, as it liked to remind her. Every glance in the mirror, conversation in her head, and silent moment was tainted by this ache with no relief, other than the few times a week she got to smoke a cigarette.

She briefly closed her eyes as she walked, quelling the downward mental spiral by focusing on the crisp scent of fall turning into winter as it drifted in from the tower at the end of the hall. She imagined herself amongst the trees somewhere warm and beautiful, like Italy. The heat from the lone fireplace to her right acted as the artificial seaside sun. The crackling log was a babbling brook and she couldn't hear her own footsteps because she was barefoot in the grass. Her lips pulled into a soft smile. She was content until she heard footsteps.

She jumped and opened her eyes frantically as a very familiar figure appeared ten feet in front of her.

"Nev?" She half shouted.

"Oh hi," he squeaked out, looking behind his right shoulder, around a corner she couldn't see.

She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain why he was out of his dorm so late but he just stood, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Hi… uh what are you doing up here?"

She watched as he jumped a little at her question, clearly uncomfortable with her suspicious tone. In recent years, her younger brother had become more akin to rule-breaking but sneaking around after dark wasn't usually his style.

He glanced over his shoulder again and took a few frantic footsteps towards her as if he was trying to herd her back down the hall.

"Erm…nothing," he worried. "I was in the uh tower."

His words slurred with the speed and she took sweeping steps to meet him before he got too far away from whatever it was that he seemed to be hiding.

"Nev," she said slowly. "In the tower…doing what?"

He didn't seem to register her question so she snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing his consciousness back down to earth.

"What's wrong with you? Why do you keep looking around like that?"

"Um…I'm just uh waiting —"

"For…?"

As if on cue, more voices appeared, loud and bouncing, out of thin air.

"Who is that?"

He looked down at his shoes, content to have her discover his counterparts on her own. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to actually hand out a detention, she breezed past him and towards the sound.

She made it three steps before Fred and George Weasley stepped around the corner and looked down at her, in shock, as if she was the one who had appeared out of nowhere. The evening was already a headache, but it was well on its way to turning into a migraine.

Before they could speak, she pounced.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was cruel and seeping with blame, directed at two of her least favorite people.

From as far back as she could remember, nearly seven years now, the three of them hadn't gotten along. The twins were intolerable, annoying, and self-centered. There was no joke, prank, or quip that could ever really be enough to fuel their egos so they always went too far, too fast, making the entirety of the study body accomplices and victims to their antics. Although, it hadn't been until her brother's unfortunate friendship with the twins that she'd started to harbor a real hatred for them.

"Hey," Fred called down the hall behind her towards Neville, pointing wildly, avoiding her accusatory stare. "Look Longbottom, it's Longbottom!"

"A family reunion," George added, clapping his hands together. "How touching."

Fred's eyes twinkled at her sour look. "Out for an evening stroll?"

She rolled her eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Oh c'mon Longbottom, no need to be so hostile, I'm only making small talk," Fred cooed. "Y'know like, how's your evening? How was your day? Are you —"

"Enough, you fucking half-whit. Why are you up here?"

George smiled big at her instantaneous anger but it was Fred who stepped closer and spoke again with a more threatening tone.

"Not quite, but you've almost got the hang of it. You're supposed to answer someone's question before you ask one of your own, it's polite."

"So answer it," she retorted, closing the last few inches between them.

"You first," he said with a scowl, relishing in her contempt. "How is your evening?"

"Abysmal, thanks to you."

"It always seems to be that way when we're together, Longbottom. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem?"

"Funny," she hissed. "I would beg to differ"

"You? Beg? Now that would make for a lovely evening. Go on then," Fred taunted, looming over her with his usual pretentious sneer.

She glared at him, fuming, and ignored Neville's plea behind her to just leave it alone.

"Alright, we should really be off now," George yawned, stretching his arms over his head for dramatic effect. "Longbottom family, it's been lovely."

Fred bared his teeth as if to gloat and brushed her shoulder with force as he followed his brother towards the stairs. She glanced at Neville for backup but he gave her a miserable shrug. Discontent with the outcome, she spun around and grabbed Fred by the arm.

"For fucks sake, just tell me what you're doing up here or I'll give you a detention!"

He whipped around with a fire in his eyes and clamped a hand down on her wrist.

"Ask. Your. Brother," he hissed through clenched teeth, blazingly serious as he yanked her arm up close to her face.

Neville let out a little gasp at the outburst but she just hardened her glare.

She yanked her hand from his. "Charming."

Fred didn't let her finish the word before he stalked away in a huff, tapping Neville on the shoulder as if to say good luck. The less volatile twin shot her an apologetic look before disappearing down the stairs after his brother.

Despite having gotten used to Fred Weasley's short fuse and erratic temper, her heart nearly beat out of her chest. She'd been the reason for many an outburst, from detention slips to thwarted pranks over the years, none having been quite this tame. If they'd been alone, she liked to think that she might have accosted him back. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Neville came up behind her, radiating with nerves.

"Really, Fern," he stuttered. "It's fine…I just had astronomy homework."

"Don't lie to me, Nev," she accused, probably louder than she needed to.

"Honest, we were just studying!"

"Oh give it a rest, those two have never studied a day in their lives! They're nothing but trouble. What are you thinking, letting them drag you into something sure to get you on Umbridge's bad side?"

"I'm already on her bad side," he mumbled. "So it doesn't really matter if —"

"Well then you can't really afford to make it any worse, can you? I mean hanging out with the Weasley twins after hours is one of the stupidest things I can think of. You're smarter than this!"

"They're my friends, it's nothing —"

"Some friends they are, Neville. Honestly, what could you possibly expect from hanging out with them, besides trouble? You're lucky that it was me that you ran into tonight, and not another Prefect, or worse. How could you be so —"

"You aren't my mum, Fern… I can look out for myself," he squeaked in a small, but stern voice.

She stopped talking immediately, struck by his sudden gumption. The twins had definitely gotten to him. Normally, he would've at least given her the benefit of the doubt and listened to her advice. She furrowed her brow when he glanced up, still looking nervously at the hallway behind her.

"You should get back to your common room," she sighed finally, unwilling to fight and elongate the portion of the evening without any nicotine in her system. "It's late."

"Alright," he said, nodding a little more energetically now that she'd stalled her lecture. "See you later?"

"Yeah….see you later."

He sped off down the hall, probably keen to catch up with his so-called friends. She cursed Fred to high heaven as she scaled the astronomy tower stairs, stopping briefly to retrieve a cigarette from the school stash, underneath a floorboard below the telescope. She tucked it between her teeth, used a non-verbal fire spell, and stepped over to the balcony.

The grounds were fuzzy and dark green beneath the muted moonlight. She stared confused for a moment at the darker than usual, blurred Hogwarts lawn, and then tipped her head upwards. A deep fog blurred the view, making the constellations completely invisible. The moon tried to blaze through the haze but it barely reached the earth's surface.

There was no way they got any astrology homework done, she thought, glancing around the room for clues.

Other than a few cigarette butts, there was nothing.

She took a drag and watched the smoke commingle with the haze. Nicotine rushed through her head providing momentary dizzying peace and oblivion. This buzz, although brief, was preferable to anything else. Drugs were unobtainable and inconsistent, alcohol lasted too long to be truly relaxing and she could never get the various potion options right. Tobacco gave her the two things that she craved, a tiny ounce of rebellion, and an unoccupied mind.

She flicked her finished cigarette onto the floor, one final testament to her moment of disobedience for the night, and flitted back down the stairs, eager to be finished with her rounds.

The hallway was still and dark again as she flew through it. The incident with her brother and his fellow Gryffindors had nearly been forgotten when other voices drifted from the hallway behind her.

Stunned by their apparition, she turned slowly, trying not to look terrified.

"Hey Fern," Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst said in unison, arm in arm, coming around the corner where she'd been a few footsteps ago.

"Hey…guys," she responded, looking for an explanation.

"Prefect rounds?" Padma said, nodding to her house robes after hours.

"Yeah," she stammered.

"That sucks. Almost done though?"

She nodded and watched the girls try and contain their giggles about something she couldn't see. She glanced down the hall and found it devoid of doors or entrances despite the astronomy tower, where they most certainly were not.

"Astronomy homework?" She asked them, surrendering to her urges of suspicion. Where had they come from?

"Yep," Padma replied energetically.

"Lovely evening to see the stars," she goaded.

"They were brill," Mandy chimed in, turning to get her friend to nod in agreement. "Oh, by the way, I think a few people are going to be hanging out in the boy's dorm later tonight if you wanna come."

"Wicked," she responded, faking interest. "Corner and Boot's room?"

"Yep!"

"Ok, I'll try and swing by," she assured them. "You guys better get back though, I don't know who else has rounds tonight but if it's Abbott, you're screwed."

"Shit," Mandy said. "Is the Inquisitional Squad out tonight too?"

"Haven't seen them yet but I think they come round at 9."

"Thanks, Fern, you're a lifesaver!" Padma whispered, turning to run with her friend, hand in hand. "See you later!"

She watched them run back down towards the moving staircase and then turned to inspect the hall in a daze. She squeezed her eyes tight, imagining a door at the end of the hall but when she opened them, the stone wall remained the same; tall, grey, and empty.

There was no door anywhere.

Where were all these kids coming from?

The Weasley's having some secret entrance into the hallway made sense but her housemates and brother didn't. The mystery motivated her enough to make quick work of the walk back to her common room where she ignored a wave of 'hello's from her peers and rushed to her dorm room.

"Daisy!"

Her roommate jumped two inches off the bed and nearly toppled onto the floor as she rushed in and slammed the door. The tall strawberry blonde stared at her with wide, absent eyes for a moment before relaxing back onto the bed and setting her book on the nightstand.

"You might be content dying from a stress-induced heart attack at a young age, my love," she cooed, returning to her easy-going state. "But I, am not. Please exclude me from any further loud and anxious announcements in the —"

"Daisy," she repeated, ignoring her best friend's usual long-winded, abstract ramblings. "I think I may have stumbled upon a mystery."

Daisy gasped and threw a hand over her mouth, smiling wickedly as for one moment Fern thought that she was equally intrigued.

"I'm serious," Fern said flatly.

"I can't say I'm surprised," she said wistfully. "There is no way that we could know all the goings-on in a castle this old or this large. The mysteries it holds….the mysteries it has been witness to…well that must span centuries. Fern, what do you think was happening in this very room, a century ago?"

"Daisy, this room is not the one that I am concerned about. Will you please listen to me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," her roommate rambled, staring at the door as if she could actually see the ghosts of Ravenclaws past.

"On my Prefect rounds, I went up the astronomy tower—"

"So that you could look up at the night sky and not smoke a cigarette because you promised me that it was simply a fleeting phase of insubordination and not a serious habit?"

She squinted at the suddenly alert girl. "Yes."

"Lovely, please continue."

"Well on my way to the tower, Neville appeared out of nowhere with Fred and George Weasley in tow."

She paused for dramatic effect but continued quickly as Daisy didn't seem intrigued in the slightest.

"When I asked what they were doing, the twins wouldn't say, and Nev gave me some excuse about astronomy homework but when I went up to the tower, the fog made seeing the stars impossible!"

Daisy gave her an exasperated look. "So they were in the tower smoking pot?"

"Ah very clever, my love, but no. See, I would have smelled it either on them or in the tower if that had been the case but there was nothing."

"Okay…so what were they doing up there?"

"Now that is the mystery. I don't think they were up there at all."

Daisy stared at her silently, raising her brow in a combination of confusion and doubt.

"And here's why…when I came back down, Padma and Mandy appeared in the hall behind me, looking like they were leaving something, just like Nev and the twins had but they weren't up in the tower with me."

"Okay…"

"Daisy, are you hearing me? They said they were doing Astronomy homework, just like Nev. On a cloudy night! Don't you think that's a little suspicious that five people appeared out of thin air in a seventh-floor hallway this evening?"

"Well it's definitely odd but I don't know if I'd call it suspicious…actually maybe it's a little abnormal….no….bizarre perhaps?"

"Yes, yes, yes, all of the above," she said quickly. "What I'm trying to say is that I think they're up to something."

"Your brother, the twins, and two Ravenclaws?"

"Yes."

"Orgy?"

"Oh Daisy, for fucks sake, don't put that image in my head."

"Well, it's the obvious choice of usage for a secret room in a distant hallway with people who might otherwise consider each other acquaintances."

"They didn't look nearly flustered enough for that to be the case and besides, Padma and Mandy couldn't ever like any of them."

Daisy nodded like she was pondering.

"And you're sure they couldn't just be a study group?"

"Well I mean sure, they could be but what room were they using?"

"Fern, what time is it?"

"What?"

"The time," Daisy repeated.

"8:45, why?"

"So it's nighttime?"

"Yes…"

"Meaning that it was dark…up there."

"There are lanterns and fireplaces and moonlight, Daisy, I know what I saw. Dim light cannot hide an entire door. Or room!"

"No need to shout, I'm only trying to guide you to an air-tight hypothesis. Are you sure your mystery isn't just because of a lack of light or perhaps a result of your lack of sleep?"

She thought back to the hall and all the times she'd been there. It wasn't often, but it was enough to know what was there.

Nothing.

"No, I'm sure there is something else going on."

"Alright…I'll entertain it," Daisy said, propping her head upon her hand. "Do you think it's something sinister?"

"No," she mused, sorting through all the possibilities in her head. "Perhaps more of a nuisance in progress but I still don't like it."

"Fern, it's probably harmless."

"I can't shake the feeling that it's not. I don't want Neville involved with those fucking Weasley twins, no matter what they're doing."

"You're going to smother that poor boy. They're his friends, let him have his fun!"

Fern glared at her level-headed friend and then laid back onto her bed in a huff.

"We'll see."

#fredweasley #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #neville sister #orignial character #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic

[maddiewritesstucky]

Call me maybe (but only during business hours)

A smutty gift for @raynakiasbel​, for her endless patience with my infuriatingly slow writing and inability to focus on one thing at a time! 

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3308

Tags: CEO Steve, College Student Bucky, Poorly-Timed Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Light Daddy Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones

Part 1 of the SugarVerse series on Ao3 

Bucky is most definitely not watching the clock.

His eyes have absolutely not been glued to the LED display on the bedside table for what feels like a hundred goddamn years, watching the little white lines form number after number, blinking their way into the formation that will mean he can pick up his phone, and call Steve.

That would be all kinds of pathetic, and Bucky is not that kind of boyfriend.

He’s certainly not the kind of boyfriend who’s already fixing to climb out of his skin on day three (three!) of Steve’s out-of-town business trip. Bucky is one of those autonomous, self-sufficient boyfriends, who is entirely too busy with his own obscenely full schedule to care about the fact that he’s not getting dicked down at his every whim this week.

He has midterms to study for, and hours to log at StarkTech to go towards his internship, and Nat’s surprise birthday party to plan even though she’s literally impossible to surprise…he doesn’t have the mental real estate to spare on thirst right now. He might have become a whole other kind of hoe since being exposed to the many splendors of Steve Rogers’ cock, but twitching for it before they’ve even hit the seventy-two hour mark?

That would be highly problematic, if that was happening.

Which it isn’t.

Bucky is well accustomed to flying solo when Steve’s off in corporate alter-ego mode; he’s done this countless times over the past few months since he moved in with Steve, and he’d made his peace with it long before that. You don’t couple up with the CEO of an internationally renowned architecture firm and expect to see his face at the dinner table every night, and for the most part, Bucky has no complaints about having the stupidly plush bed all to his starfishing self a few nights a month.

It’s just...there’s a method to this, usually. And that method does not involve three entire days of near radio silence.

When Steve goes away, even on his busier trips, he always finds time to call Bucky at least once a day, even if it’s just five minutes as he’s crawling into bed to say goodnight. They’ll text, and Steve will send emails that are endearingly formal because his brain tends to stay in CEO-mode 24/7 when he’s on business trips, and they’ll generally tide one another over with tidbits of cyber-affection until they get back in the same physical space.  

But this time? They’ve hardly been in contact at all. And it’s on Bucky, too, at least in part - he’s been swamped with his own workload the past few weeks, struggling to find quality time or head space even in the few days just before Steve left, and all they’ve managed so far is a few sporadic messages in their rare moments of down-time, which have so far been chaotically misaligned.

It’s been a drag, if Bucky’s honest, and he can occupy himself all he wants with his exam prep and his party-plotting, but at the end of the day…

Bucky’s just a boy, laying in front of a clock, asking his dick to hold out just a few more minutes.

Because right now, it’s 10:42pm.

It’s 10:42pm, which means that in exactly three minutes, Steve will be sliding into the crisp white sheets of whatever lavish hotel bed he’s being put up in; buck-ass naked because he’s as stringent on his no-pyjamas policy as he is on his bed time, and in exactly three minutes…

Bucky’s gonna call him, and phone-fuck the soul right out of his offensively perfect body.

He flips onto his back and nestles into the pillows, a dumb grin already fixing to his face in his hormone-fuelled stupor. The lights of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling penthouse windows bathe his naked skin in soft orange-gold, and his hand migrates of its own accord to the semi he’s been rocking ever since it occurred to him that he could just straight up call Steve and spring a jerk-sesh on him.

The whole thing feels deliciously sneaky-skanky. He’s never done this before, just cold-called Steve with an x-rated agenda. They’ve had phone sex before, a great many times in fact, but there’s always a lead-in; a text exchange turned sordid that spirals into a video call straight out of Bucky’s horny teenage fantasies. 

But he’s never gone in jizz-first, ask-questions-later, and as certain as he is that Steve will be entirely on board, it feels just risky enough to have Bucky a little high off the adrenaline of it.

Here lies Bucky, Queen of the Sluts! Stretched out bare atop cream colored sheets, lit up by the New York skyline! Dick in hand and filth on the tip of his tongue!

He is power! He is scandal! He is ready for this!

He pulls the lube out from its hiding place under the pillow and slicks himself up, stroking slow as he tries to summon some small measure of nonchalance about the whole thing. He has a vision for how he wants this to go, and it does not involve him losing his cool the second he hears Steve’s voice on the other end of the line.

This is about seduction, about surprising Steve with some old-school nasty, no video or visuals involved - just Bucky’s filthy mouth and vivid imagination, and he’s determined to keep it together long enough to paint Steve a picture he can jack it to.

He pulls up Steve’s contact and waits out the final torturous minute with his heart in his throat, hitting the call button the second it ticks over to go-time. He hits the speakerphone button, dropping the phone onto the pillow next to him, and holds his breath through the four rings it takes for Steve to pick up.

“...James?”

And oh, but that bodes well...Steve uses his real name in two contexts, and two contexts only - when Bucky visits him at work and he’s in business mode, and when he’s got Bucky flat on his back underneath him, letting him have it.

If Steve’s already keyed up tonight? This just got a lot more interesting.

“Mm, there it is,” Bucky heaves a deep sigh, “that’s what I needed, that voice...”

His mind’s eye conjures up visions of Steve spread out across the bed, taut lines of muscle and bare flesh all laid out. He’s probably just had a shower, so his skin would be all warm and pink, smelling like soap and aftershave; his hair all fluffy from that irreverent way he has of rubbing it towel-dry...god, Bucky misses him.

“James? Are you alright?”

He can practically hear Steve’s brows drawing together in that way they do when he’s overworked; a tight-wound tension in his voice that Bucky has every confidence he can allay before the night’s through.

“Mm, be a lot better if it was your hand wrapped around my cock right now,” Bucky drawls, rolling his body for his audience of no one, “but I guess I’ll just have to settle for fucking my fist to the sound of your voice. Can you hear me touching myself, Daddy?”

He breathes a soft groan as he strokes himself slick and languid, and Steve is silent for a long moment that Bucky’s brain is all too happy to color in with pornographic images of how Steve might be listening; where his hands might be wandering, how his cock would be filling at the mental picture Bucky’s painting. Bucky thinks this might just be the best idea he’s ever had, and he doesn’t hold back on letting Steve hear exactly how good he’s feeling about his decision...

...Until Steve clears his throat, and unceremoniously hits him with an ice-cold dousing of you-done-fucked-up.

“I’m in a meeting right now, I have two clients with me.”  

There is zero inflection in his tone, and if Bucky thought he had experienced true panic before, he was mistaken. He can physically feel himself paling; his mouth dropping open soundlessly, humiliation warring with plain confusion as to why the hell Steve is still working at this ridiculous hour.

And then it clicks.

Horribly, harrowingly clicks.

Steve isn’t working at stupid o’clock at night.

In the perpetual haze of Bucky’s overworked brain and Steve’s ever-changing schedule, Bucky had forgotten that this trip was taking Steve to Hawaii.

For Steve, it isn’t slutty phone-sex hours. It’s very sensible, 4:45pm strictly-business hours.

“Ohmygod,” Bucky gasps, bolting upright and looking desperately around the room like it might hold the solution to his colossal screw up, “Steve, I completely forgot--”

“Mr Barnes, I can give you exactly two minutes of my time right now because I realize it’s been difficult to touch base recently,” Steve interrupts, his tone cooling abruptly with the air of professional detachment and veiled authority Bucky’s heard him use on work calls a thousand times. “Can you tell me exactly what the issue is with the redesign?”

...Bucky blinks, breath caught in his throat as he scrambles to string together some sense from Steve’s response.

Steve hasn’t mentioned any specific projects lately, is Bucky supposed to know something about a redesign? Was there something he--

Oh.

Oh.

His brain and his dick catch on at the same time in a borderline painful rush of blood. He hears Steve pull back from the phone to address his clients, placating them with an apology and the assurance that this won’t take long, and Jesus Christ...Steve is actually doing this.

Steve is actually going to let this happen, going to let Bucky have one-sided phone sex with him while he sits there in some boardroom, with actual clients sitting right in front of him.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s breath leaves him in a rush as he drops back against the pillows and wraps a frantic hand around himself. “The issue is you’ve been gone three fucking days and I wanna sit on your face.”

“Mm, I see why that’s problematic,” Steve muses, cool and unaffected, “what exactly do you need from me?”

God, Bucky can just picture it - Steve sitting there looking like a fucking wet dream in one of his distractingly well-fitting suits, with his hair swept perfectly over and his beard trimmed just close enough to show off the sharp cut of his jaw; radiating that air of quiet authority that makes Bucky want to bounce in his lap until he dies...

Bucky knows for a fact that Steve’s face will be betraying precisely none of what’s happening on the other end of the line, and why the hell is that such a turn on?

“Well I was gonna describe in graphic detail all the things I want you to do to me when you get back,” Bucky huffs, breaths coming faster already, “but if I’m on the clock now, guess I’ll have to settle for sayin’ I need you to bring that dick home ASAP...fuckin’ miss it.”

“I see,” Steve sighs, “well I’m not back in New York for a few days yet, how do you plan to manage this in the interim?”

Bucky curses under his breath, tightening his grip on himself. “Just have to fuck myself, imagine it’s you.”  He sounds every bit as unconvinced of the efficacy of this plan as they both know he is, and Steve hums thoughtfully in response.

“I’m going to need more detail, paint me a picture here.”

Bucky knows he’s blushing, feels the heat of it all the way down his chest, and fuck this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Dirty talking at Steve and getting nothing back but clipped responses, void of emotion and the usual undercurrent of affection he’s become accustomed to?

Work-Steve needs to come to the bedroom more often.

“I’ll touch myself, like I’m doing right now,” he twists his grip a little on the upstroke, hissing at the change in sensation, “get my fist all wet and tight around my cock...pretend it’s your mouth.”

How close are Steve’s clients sitting to him? Steve wouldn’t be letting this happen if there was any way they could hear...but what if one of them has some kind of medical condition that gives them enhanced hearing? What if one of them can read minds and is hearing this entire conversation play out in stereo quality in their head?

Why is there a part of Bucky that hopes one or both of those things are true?!

“...And?” Steve prompts, almost brusque, and Bucky gives himself a second to revel in the way his dick twitches for the hard edge in Steve’s voice.

“And I’ll, fuck- ” Bucky stutters, rocking his hips with the rhythm of his strokes, pushing himself up through his grip, “I’ll use my toys, fingerfuck myself.”

“Right, well why don’t you go ahead and start that for me now,” Steve says, off-hand; pulling back from the phone to place an honest-to-god coffee order with the oblivious intern who’s now seemingly in the room too, and Bucky’s never felt more of an affinity for the whole bored-and-ignored thing.  

He slicks up the fingers of his free hand and shifts a little onto his side, hiking a knee up as he slips a finger inside himself.

“Can I take that as a yes, Mr Barnes?” Steve asks at the breathy moan Bucky lets out as he presses in first with one, and then with two fingers, and Bucky nods frantically even though Steve can’t see him.

“Yes, fuck...I'm doin' it...feels so fucking good, Steve.”

And it does. It’s a difficult angle, and he can't quite hit the spot he wants to inside himself, but the steady stroke-tug against his rim while his fist flies over his cock is working for him; winding him towards what would, in any other non time-constrained circumstance, be an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He can hear Steve shuffling papers, making quiet sounds of agreement along with whatever conversation is going on in the background between his clients whilst they wait, unknowing, and Bucky can’t decide whether it’s a blessing or an immense disappointment that Steve has to bite his tongue right now; that he can’t unleash any of the filth he’d definitely be spitting if he didn’t have an audience. 

Steve fucking loves to run his mouth, and Bucky loves to hear it; lives for the endlessly colorful obscenities Steve comes out with in the throws of it.

Just listen to you, he’d be laughing a little; his voice dripping with that indulgent, self-satisfied grin he gets, so goddamn easy for it, ain’t that right baby? Three fuckin’ days and you’re gagging for it...should be ashamed of yourself…

But Steve is in a very public forum right now, in the middle of a meeting no less, trying to give the impression that he’s very decidedly not having phone sex. Right now, he’s Steve Rogers - CEO, consummate professional.

But he is also an asshole, and when he asks Bucky “do you feel you have a firm grasp on the situation, or would a second set of hands be helpful on this one?” Bucky swears he can hear that faint hint of a smirk all the way across the fucking country.

“Might just have to go find myself a second set of hands if you stay away too long,” Bucky retorts, emboldened by the distance, and a little morbidly curious to see what sassing gets him when Steve can’t say shit about it.

Turns out, what it gets him is a full-body shiver and a throb between his thighs as Steve’s tone dips to somewhere in the realm of politely-veiled threat. “I would not advise that, Mr Barnes.”

It occurs to Bucky, then, that this won’t just be done and dusted once they hang up. At the end of the week, Steve will come back to New York, and he will absolutely have some Things To Say about this little interruption.

He can picture it now, the way Steve will stand there all calm, staring him down with his mouth upticked at the corner while Bucky fumbles his way through an explanation. 

He’ll probably do that thing where he doesn’t say much but his eyes say everything, and Bucky will have to try really hard to seem remorseful even though they’ll both know he’s not actually all that sorry. And Steve won’t want him to be, not really, but it’ll be something he can use to their mutual benefit, nonetheless.

Fuck, Steve might spank him.

Bucky smothers a moan into the pillow next to him, twisting his fingers inside himself and brushing his thumb across the head of his cock as he turns that thought over, Steve bending him over his knee, or better yet, over his desk...

“Oh,” Bucky gasps, a sudden rush of heat twisting tight in his gut, “fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Steve huffs a vaguely incredulous laugh, and there’s a faint creaking sound like he’s settling further back in his chair. “Oh really? Who authorized that?”  

Bucky lets out a deeply undignified whine, his whole body strung tight enough to snap; caught between the sensations of his hand moving frantically over his dick and his fingers scissoring inside himself.

“Come on,” he whimpers, teetering on the knife edge of losing it, “tell me I can finish, please.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Oh, fuck him, fuck him...how is he still edging Bucky when he was the one who put the rush order on this?

“Please, Daddy,” Bucky doesn’t try to hide the desperation in his voice as he changes tact, “if you don’t authorize this orgasm I think I’m gonna go blind, just fucking let me come!”

Steve pauses a beat, humming a considering sound. “No, I’m not comfortable signing off on that. We’re tabling this until I get back to New York.”

Bucky freezes, both hands stilling; his face crumbling into a mask of abject disbelief.  “You can’t be serious?”  His stomach drops, even as something in the back of his mind says he really should have seen this coming...or, not coming, as is the case.

“I'm sure we can come to a far more satisfying resolution in person,” Steve says, maddeningly cavalier.

Bucky’s gearing up to plead his case, but Steve’s not done ruining his night yet.

“In fact, Mr Barnes,” he piles on, “I’d like to make you personally responsible for ensuring no further action is taken on the matter until I return. Can I trust you with this?”

Bucky gapes down at his poor, oblivious cock still standing at eager attention in his grasp, unaware of the disaster that’s just befallen them, and he takes his hands off himself with a pained groan.

“This is criminal,” he objects, flopping heavily onto his back and throwing his arms out to his sides, “if my dick falls off, it’s your fault!”

“Great! Glad to hear it,” Steve chirps, as if he's not the worst person alive, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Whatever,” Bucky scowls at the shadows stretching across the ceiling, willing his mind off the throbbing ache of injustice between his thighs, “I’m totally not answering any of your calls.”

Steve’s smile bleeds into his tone a little when he responds, the closest he’s come to fondness yet. “Okay, speak soon, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky tries, really tries, to inject some petulance into his tone as he signs off with a grumbled “love you, I guess,” but he can’t quite bring himself to sulk as much as he feels the situation warrants.

After all, in exactly four days, Steve will come back to New York.

He’ll come home, and they’ll laugh about this, and in exactly four days…

Steve will make him forget what he was even upset about in the first place.

(Part 2 of the series here!)

#steve/bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve x bucky #stucky fanfic #ao3 stucky #daddy steve rogers

[after-witch]

Under a Bridge (Yandere Norway x Country Reader)

Title: Under a Bridge (Yandere Norway x Country Reader)

Synopsis: You’ve been under Norway’s thumb, trapped and caged in more ways than one. You seek help from otherworldly beings, but a deal once made, can’t be undone.

(Request: Anonymous asked: Yandere Norway with a country s/o who can use magic and see magical creatures like him? Like how would he deal with them trying to get help/escape through their magical creatures help?)

Word Count: 1600

notes: yandere

“Your temperament is better,” he says quietly, settling down in the chair across from yours. A modest dinner, smoked fish and fresh vegetables from the garden, rests on the table between you. You made it tonight, without fuss, as you have been for many, many nights before. You even hummed while you did so, a song you heard long ago from a creature now turned to dust.

You smile sweetly--softly, still, but sweetly, and that is what matters.

“I know I’ve been… disagreeable,” you say, choosing your words carefully. You’re very careful now--you must be. Or all of your good behavior, your compliant cooking and helpful, listening ear, will have been for naught. “I understand now that you… only want what is best for me.” You say nothing more, gently lifting a piece of cooked vegetable to your lips, watching his reaction.

He doesn’t react much to your words. He never did, even when he was angry with you, in the time that you were a wild, fighting, nasty thing; back when you screamed out curses and begged every creature you knew might hear to help you, to no avail. Cut off from your homeland, cut off from your magic; you could feel it, tingling and stretching, trying to reach you across miles and miles and so many borders. But that feeling dimmed, day by day, week by week, until it was nothing but a soft ache in the back of your mind.

He was patient, you will give him that. He didn’t scream or hurt you, at least not in the way that you supposed captors might normally hurt an non-compliant, unwilling captive. He simply laid out his expectations, laid out his rules, and waited day by day for your resolve to weaken.

And now, his subtle smile over the table tells you all you need to know.

It means that he trusts that you’re behaving. It means that he trusts that you’ve accepted your place, small and cramped and caged in this little house with its little garden, cut off from your homeland and even the once-familiar creatures that helped you or hurt you or kept you company over the long stretch of your life.

It also means that he trusts you not to spike his dinner with a sleeping potion. 

His mistake, of course.

You make small conversation, giving him updates about the garden and the animals, about repairs you’re going to make to this and that dress. He’s quiet, which is par the course--but you see over the increasingly mundane conversation that he’s starting to nod out. Slowly, slowly, until he mentions that he may sleep earlier than usual. You rise, so polite and caring now, and help him to bed. He barely makes it onto the freshly laundered bedding before he passes out.

You waste no time. Instinctively, quickly, you grab the bag you’ve prepared for your flight. Tucked underneath a floorboard, it’s enough to keep you safe and energized until you can get far away. You tucked some trinkets, things to barter with, should you find anyone (or anything) trustworthy enough in the forests.

Your dainty house slippers, made for trodding on soft boards and grass in the garden, are replaced with a pair of his sturdy boots. They’ll do you better in the forest. Without a second thought, you’re gone--you don’t even bother shutting the door, instead fleeing on foot; you leave the sounds of crying goats and concerned chickens and the rush of the stream alongside the cabin behind you.

--

Your time--how long, you wonder, how long--living a quiet, pampered house-life with Norway has left you weaker than you realized. You can no longer run for hours on end, strong and free, wind whipping behind you.

You’re forced to take breaks, resting on logs or on piles of leaves, trying to catch your panicked breath. You nibble on your rations and take the smallest sips from your flask. You yearn to take big gulps, especially when your lungs burn and ache from exertion, but the streams in the forest have always worried you. Back home, they were cheerful, clean; you might find someones and somethings inside, with wings or green skin or even tails, but they were always willing to part with fresh water for a trifle, a song or a compliment. Nothing serious. And they’d never tried to drown you, as far as you knew, which was more than you could say for some other water-logged entities back home.

Norway never let you fetch water from the stream near your cabin, always handling it himself. There may have been a reason for that, you remind yourself, opposing the increasing temptation to greedily drink down the precious water in your flask and refill it from a bubbling brook.

You refuse to sleep that first night, opting instead to keep running. Your potion, if crafted correctly, should keep him asleep for 2 full nights. And you want to get as much distance as possible between you in that time. The forest is unnerving, unfamiliar. You try to reach out for anything familiar--but whatever creatures inhabited Norway either ignored you or brushed you off as something unusual and foreign. Don’t bother with this one, you heard from a tree, though you can’t decide if that notion was offensive or not.

The sun is setting on your second day when you realize you can’t hold off on refilling your flask anymore. It was a silly notion, after all, to think you could ration water while your body was screaming from exhaustion.

You drain the last dribbles of water and follow the sounds of rushing water until you find something you didn’t expect to see: a waterfall, rushing down in great white bubbling, empting into a small river with unusually clear, glass-like water. You glance in the water. It’s clean… too clean, you realize immediately, to be an ordinary forest river. There is not a spec of debris, no sign of a fish, nothing but beautifully, tempting--, really--water that exuded coolness.

You drain the last dribbles of water and follow the sounds of rushing water until you find something you didn’t expect to see: a waterfall, rushing down in great white bubbling, empting into a small river with unusually clear, glass-like water. You glance in the water. It’s clean… too clean, you realize immediately, to be an ordinary forest river. There is not a spec of debris, no sign of a fish, nothing but beautifully, tempting--taunting, really--water that exuded coolness.

You know better. You know better and yet, you find your hands unwillingly gripping your flask as you untwist the cap. You lean down towards the stream, and in the glass-like reflection you can see something--more than one something--watching you from the middle of the river. Women, with long black hair stringing down past their naked waists; grinning, eager, beckoning you with their hands. Something more, too, on the other side of the river. A human figure, blonde and blurry, watching and waiting--but for what?

You want to pull away, to run until your lungs explode, but your hands feel like lead puppets, heavy and obeying someone else pulling the strings. You dip the flask down in the water, which is cold, so cold--and you can see the long strands of thick black hair coming closer, curling under the clear water like snakes. Some of the tendrils begin to loosely wrap around your wrists, like chains, and you’re briefly reminded of the cuffs Norway had once used--

Your unwitting reverie is suddenly broken by the sound of a low, rumbling laugh next to you. Your entire body jerks, the flask flying from your hands and into the water, to the sound of disappointed bubbling groans. You twist to the side and look up--and up, and up--at a massive forest troll. Covered in moss and leaves and even bird nests, some with eggs tucked neatly inside them.

“I--” you start, shaking your head, blowing away whatever enchantments had you. “If it was your intention, thank you for helping me. If it wasn’t your intention, thank you all the same.”

The troll laughs again, gruff and not altogether unpleasant. “I only wanted to see what he would do if I stopped them.” He gestures towards the other side of the river with his rock-like chin, and that’s when you realize--blonde, yes, blurry, no. It was Norway standing there on the grassy edge of the river, looking--for once--quite pissed off. The potion must have been weaker than you thought--damn recipe.

Your body falters. You want to run, but there’s nowhere you can go fast enough at this point. You look up helplessly at the troll and whisper out a plea, something you know you should never say to the unknown: “Please help me.”

The massive troll seems to consider for a moment, then opens his palm and shrugs. You glance at his giant teeth, some green and some sharp, but there don’t (for the moment) appear to be any human-sized bones inside. You climb onto his palm and he lifts you up high, cradling you against his mossy chest, while you try to ignore the sounds of Norway yelling--yelling, for once!--after you.

You feel the troll’s other hand patting the top of your head, shockingly gentle but condescending all the same. “Don’t worry,” he says, “He can’t enter my home to get you, my….” He mumbles now, and you can only hope you misheard the last word: “pet.”

#yandere hetalia #yandere norway #yandere x reader #yandere #apologies for the mishmash of folklore do do do #ahh also I know in norway this particular type of creature tends to be male #compared to other versions which are female #but #creative license

[fantranslatorbychoice]

Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6 Chapter 6 - An Uncle and Pampas Grass and Moon Viewing Sake

T/N: Hi y’all, I’m back with chapter 6, how are you doing? I thought tumblr didn’t want me to post, kept getting error logs but here we are now. I got a bit unwell so I didn’t get to post this as soon as I wanted to, but I hope you still like it somehow.

As always, if you like this translation, you can heart it, share the link, reblog, I just respectfully ask that DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. This is my contribution to the scant English content of this fandom, and I worked really hard to finish this thing, it’s not like I just copy-pasted everything. I even had to build the kanji in Jisho one by one. Try it and you’ll see what I mean.

You can rave about this, rant about this, reply, etc. but if possible please link back to this page. If you’re unsure how to do that, just copy the web address of this page. If you’re on a blogsite just insert the web address as a hyperlink as a link back to here. Honestly if this light novel was officially-published in English, I wouldn’t even be doing this right now... And if it did, I’d take this offline to support the publishers and Yuuma-sensei. Creators support creators, is what I believe in. I’ll prolly do 1-5 once 6-10 has been done, or however long I can manage to translate the raw texts, it can take a toll at times.  As previously-mentioned in earlier chapters, if you stumbled upon this one, the two seasons of the anime covered volumes 1-5, so other than the extra details, you didn’t miss much stuff. OK, here we go, this chapter’s a racket lol

P186 Kasuga's resignation from Tenjin-ya has been announced. Aside from that, the guests were also a bit dreary that day. Many people came to ask if there's any beef stew or hamburger steak but there's none left already, and there were still a lot of the chestnut okowa** for the Autumn set meals... "It took a lot of pains to steam these in a bamboo steamer, the sweet and piping chestnut okowa though..." It's a waste, what will I do? I wonder if everyone from Tenjin-ya's going to come and eat... "Kasuga... would she be coming? There's so many terrible stuff tonight, she's probably not going here." I remembered Kasuga again, and I got even more gloomy. Today's no good. She's probably thinking about a lot of things due to her leaving. It can't be helped but be sad. As more time passes by, my heart feels more depressed and more bemoaning. When I came to Kakuriyo, Kasuga played a lot of tricks on me and some of the other Ayakashi that I got involved with. Then after that, when she came to my place a lot, she eventually became a very dear friend. T/N: okowa=steamed sticky rice with stuff like beans, nuts, etc. replaces plain white rice in some meals. P187 I wonder what I could do for Kasuga when she leaves...

When I went outside the shop curtain to wear my geta sandals, the lovely waxing gibbous moon floating in the sky lept out in front of my eyes. "Wahhhh" The moon is almost at its fullest. The autumn air that goes with it, it's heartrending. When I walked underneath the rustling willow tree, it was already twilight in the quiet inner garden. "Is there something wrong, Aoi Ojou-san?" In that moment, a young man was leaning over the wooden bridge and chewing on a blade of grass. Having a slender body, with his brown hair covering his eyes, and what seems to be a charming smile showing on his face... It was the Gesokubanchou, Chiaki-san. "Chiaki-san... This is unusual. For what reasons have you come here?" "Oh, Aoi-san, I have a little favor, to ask of you." "A favor?" It was different from Chiaki-san's usual sloppy presence, somehow his manner was solemn as he came here. He was Kasuga's uncle. Could he be talking about something regarding Kasuga? P188 "Errrr... Can Aoi-san expertly stir fry these?" "Say what? What are these.. Ah, ginko nuts!" Chiaki-san nodded eagerly and handed me a thin, drawstring bag that looked like it was filled to the brim, these were ginko nuts." "Today, Odanna-sama and Byakuya-sama, also Dr. Saraku who rarely leaves the underground facility, the three of them went to the mountain behind Tenjin-ya to watch the moon while drinking sake**. This time around, Tenjin-ya was troubled with the Bunmon Tanuki situation, so I decided to pick up some ginko nuts in the inner garden to stir-fry them and bring them to you, but I'm not good at stir-frying." "Oh, I get it now. It's OK, Yugao's already closed and we can go inside. Speaking of Odanna-sama, they went moon-viewing? Because it's nearly the full moon?" "Ayakashi like to drink sake while moon-viewing. Aside from that, those were the three seniors of Tenjin-ya. They probably had something important that they needed to talk about this time." "...oh, I see." If it wasn't the marriage of an employee, then it's likely something else. Likewise, the Northern Land's Hachiyo has been replaced, and Kasuga is going to get married to him, and this brings yet another huge issue and problems in the entirety of Kakuriyo. Previously, Odanna-sama announced his engagement to me while in Youto, and that caused a huge commotion. We entered Yugao, and sitting in his favorite seat, Chiaki-san immediately propped his chin with his hands on the counter.

T/N: Yep, it’s a thing, people drinking rice wine while moon-staring. When spring has the cherry-blossom viewing thing, autumn has moon-viewing activities. They say that when the moon reflects on your sake cup, spirits come out. Well, whatever lol I rather moon-stare sober P189 With that mannerism, somehow he resembles Kasuga during the day. But looking at them in their appearances, they don't look alike. Kasuga is springy and bouncy, and this guy is reasonably quick-paced. "Oh, Chiaki-san, are you hungry?" "Me? I'm good, I've finally had a meal." "You always have your dinner late, don't you?" "Oh, right. Gesokuban have so many minute and detailed jobs, and I also have to take care of the ogre kiddies. I have to put them to bed, and have dinner after that... Ah! Could it be, that you made something for me?!" He was already in a Japanese restaurant, and based on his reactions he only remembered about that now. Even though he explicitly came bringing some ginko nuts, with regards to me he's rather the uninformed type. "Hee hee. I only have chestnut okowa left, it that OK for you to eat? I still haven't had dinner yet." "Did you say... Chestnut okowa?!" Somewhat, Chiaki-san was taken aback. With such a strong reaction, I got anxious. "Is it likely, that you're not fond of chestnuts?" "No! It's not that, it's just that Tanuki love chestnuts and persimmons!" "Really? Thank goodness-- But that's the first time I heard it. That Tanuki love chestnuts" P190 "Yes. There's a huge chestnut tree in Bunmon's University Library, when autumn comes everyone goes out and gathers them." "Ehh?" A library that has a chestnut tree. That's somehow cool. "What side dishes would you like? There's some saury, how about salted and grilled saury? There's also miso soup, try it out, it's a reddish miso soup, it's a suitable accompaniment to the chestnut okowa." "What is that, isn't that the best autumn menu?" Hearing what the menu was, his empty stomach was remembered and it growled. While rubbing the back of his head, Chiaki-san's eagerness shone across his face. "That was embarassing. I uhm, haven't eaten anything since lunch." "Is that so? When Kasuga says that she's hungry, you should have come with her, it's OK." "It's fine, Odanna-sama and I had to go back and talk about other things too. In addition to that, it was necessary for Kasuga that time, to be with Aoi-san who is her friend. Since yesterday, we have been completely surrounded by esteemed Ayakashi." "..." While Chiaki-san wore a strained smile, he secretly let out a sigh. I didn't fail to see that, so I turned on the fire on the grill, and started preparing the salting and grilling of the saury. P191 And then, Chiaki-san weirdly seemed to become fidgety, and suddenly he stood up and took a broom in his hand, and started sweeping inside Yugao. "What are you doing, Chiaki-san?" "Oh, it's nothing, if I don't move I couldn't calm down. You seem to be in the middle of cleaning and tidying up Yugao, is it fine if I sweep here?" "Uhm, thank you, I'm grateful for that..." He might be a manager, but by nature he is humble and feels much obliged. "Ah--  It's Tanu-tanu-shaaan's voice-" For some reason, Chibi who was sleeping in the back room woke up, and that time when he heard Chiaki-san's voice he went out. He held the acorn he picked up during the day on his flank, and with a heave-ho climbed up Chiaki-san's counter seat. "Heyyy isn't that Chibi? Have you slept? Your beak is smeared all over." After saying that, Chiaki-san wiped Chibi's beak with his hand. Apart from being humble and obliging, he also gives off the vibe that he's used to taking care of children... "I'm a baby Kappaaaa. Baby Kappa are the cutesssht newbornssssh in the worrrrld." I have been taking care of him, but for some reason Chibi has returned to being a baby and shows how he's suckling on his thumb zealously. "So to speak, you know of Chibi, Chiaki-san?" P192 "Yes, I do, we went picking up some ginko nuts during the day." "Yesh we diiid. When I wasssh about to get eaten by Shoft-shelled turtle-shan in the garden'sss shmall pond, Tanu-tanu-shaaan saved mee. And for that, this Kappa returnsssh the favor." Chibi went "I presshent you my gift", and he brought out the acorn that he was holding on his flank for Chiaki-san. Even though he seemed to have no need for the acorn, Chiaki-san replied with a smile, "Thank you, Chibi", as Chibi acted morosely. Chibi...Isn't he spoiled by Tenjin-ya's male army? Now then, back to Chiaki-san's saury. To this extent, for anybody with a high-class taste there's probably no other food that is more famous than this one during autumn. Long and thin, rounded and fatty, the luster of the fresh saury, it has been caught off the coast of the Eastern Lands. I salted both sides of the fish. This removes the fishy stench, and improves the elasticity of the flesh. I lightly rinsed this in running water, and again lightly sprinkled salt over the dazzling flesh again, before cutting this into smaller pieces. After that I turned on the charcoal grill and slowly grilled this, steadily holding it over the fire. "Chiaki-san, is Kasuga's uncle, aren't you?" "Yes. Kasuga's father and mother in Youto have been estranged for a long time, I have practically took measures to look after her." "Really? You have been her father's replacement?" "Ahaha. Saying that I'm her father is too much. Well, I'm like a big brother who's older by some years, it's something to that extent. I think it's sensible that way. Kasuga P193 is the youngest daughter, and compared to her other siblings she hates studying... she's a naughty and troublesome child." While Chiaki-san was suppressing a laugh as he recalled some memories, he was sipping some warm sencha tea that I poured for him. That atmosphere, it was a bit different from the light impression that I have of Chiaki-san, he was somehow polished and elegant. "Ah... The fragrance of the grilled saury is good, right?" "Tee hee. When this saury is grilled at just the right amount of time, the skin and the fat just makes it more mouth-watering for anybody and you can't get enough of it's scent." While the saury was being grilled and the appetizing smell was wafting out, I placed the hot and piping chestnut okowa in a rice bowl, and checked out the taste of the reddish miso soup I was using. In a small bowl, I added vinegared miso with squid and scallion. I placed all of these in a four-legged tray, and when the saury was about to be grilled enough I grated daikon over a long and narrow plate, and beside this I placed the grilled fish. Wah, the fat is dripping, and the skin has been grilled to become crunchy, this saury is both delicious and really smells great. It's filled with all the tastes of autumn, and I served this like it was made at home. "Alright! This is Yugao's 'Nothing but Autumn' set meal. These directly echoes the tastes of a hungry stomach during autumn. Ah, kabosu, kabosu!** I'll cut half of a kabosu and if you squeeze that all over, the citrusy fragrance makes it even more appetizing." I sliced a kabosu in half and plopped it beside the saury. "Ahaha. How you smiled, that meant that it's really delicious." Chiaki-san put his hands together and said "let's eat", and as expected took a mouthful of the chestnut okowa. T/N: kabosu=香母酢=some type of citrus fruit, well to be honest anything citrusy goes well with fried or grilled fish, or just fish in general. gwah P194 Rounded and scattered, there's so much of the lovely yellow chestnuts. The steamed sticky rice I used for the okowa, it mildly envelops the chestnuts with sweetness, tenderly and endearingly, it was enjoyably warm and fluffly, and the springy texture have its finishing touches. "These rounded chestnuts, they're surely delicious. Chestnuts in plain rice** is good,  and so is chestnut okowa." "Try eating that with the saury. It's also the best." That being said, Chiaki-san squeezed the kabosu juice over the saury's crunchy skin, and with the chopsticks neatly scattered this to soften the meat, and picked up the jiggly flesh. He ate it as it was, and closed his eyes as he chewed on it. "Oh.. This is good, this is good. This IS autumn. There is so much of this saury's fatty umami, even more so when it was salted and grilled and the skin got crunchy. The refreshing kabosu and the grated daikon over it, no other fish suits this the best. Also, the reddish miso soup really goes well with with everything, it worked the best." This time he tried the saury with the chestnut okowa. Occasionally letting out a sigh of relief and closing his eyes as he eats, it was charming and adorable. Kasuga was also like that, a Tanuki with a distinct gentle air about them, and I love how she's like that. "Kasuga said that when she's eating Aoi-san's delicious food, she goes to work cheerfully everyday." "Kasuga?" T/N: OK, so to make it a bit clearer since not all rice are equal, some rice when boiled or steamed have a texture that makes the grains scattered, and then there are some rice varieties that become sticky/glutinous when cooked, like your usual sushi rice, and then there are some super-mushy ones that need a lot of water-regulating skills to prevent it from becoming rice porridge. The okowa is somewhere in between the excessive watery stuff and the sushi rice consistency. P195 "Yes, she does. That girl, she seemed to have loved working in Tenjin-ya. Way back, she hated working in here." "...is that so? But that's curious. Kasuga's an Ojou-sama, isn't she? Why was she working as a waitress in Tenjin-ya?" "Uhm, that..." Chiaki-san's gaze lowered for a bit, and asked me "How much do you know of... the person Kasuga is engaged to?" I took out the newspaper that Juujirou-ojisan left behind sometime ago, and placed it in front of Chiaki-san. "This child on the photo, I heard that he was the next Hachiyo of the Northern Lands. Isn't he the one that Kasuga previously said that she'll get married to?" "Yes, that's correct. It's Kiyo-sama...He's grown to be very handsome." Chiaki-san looked at the youth on the newspaper, and somehow he seemed calm, he smiled as he drew his eyebrows together. "You know of him?" "Of course. When that child was quite young, he used to stay in the Land of Bunmon a lot. He was sickly, and he gets medical treatment in our University Hospital..." Starting to eat a bit again, Chiaki-san went "Shall I tell you a story from long ago?" and started to talk once again. "The Northern Land's new Hachiyo, Kiyo-sama spent so much time with Kasuga when they were children. Kasuga hated studying, and always hid in the hospital and the library and caused troubles to the adults.” P196 "Kasuga right now is a real hard-worker, I couldn't imagine she was like that. But then again, that was probably because she was still young." "That girl's pranks, as a kid she made those very ingenious and cunning. During that time,  it was hard for me to even handle Kasuga at all." "Tee hee hee" Imagining Chiaki-san following around Kasuga in that situation, somehow I could only smile at that. "During that time when Kasuga has been fleeing a lot and entered a hospital's private room, she met Kiyo-sama. Kasuga and Kiyo-sama were almost the same ages, and they immediately got on good terms. Kiyo-sama read a lot of books, and Kasuga became influenced to read books, as well as growing a bit in working hard in studying. Kiyo-sama was especially interested in the culture and history of Utsushiyo, and those were the topics and books that those two talked about and read about, they had so much fun imagining things." Chiaki-san's expression gradually changed. He was just talking about Kasuga's childhood, but he was smiling a lot as he seemed to remember the past while I was listening, I wonder if there's nothing else other than that. "Kasuga started to have growing feelings for Kiyo-sama. But Kiyo-sama seemed to imagine that he wasn't going to live long, as his body was prone to sickness. Then one day, Kasuga and Kiyo-sama broke out of the hospital room, and the two of them decided to go to Utsushiyo together." P197 "Wahhh? Is that even possible?" "Because it is necessary to go to Utsushiyo, a Hachiyo is issued a travelling pass. Kasuga used her cunning skills to steal the travelling pass from my mother, the Institutional Director. It was preposterous, that wicked brat. But Kasuga, it was because she really wanted to take Kiyo-sama to Utsushiyo so badly..." What I heard happened after those events, was that Kasuga and Kiyo-sama wandered in Utsushiyo together, and after about three days they were discovered by the Bunmon Tanuki who went out on a manhunt, and they were taken to be returned. Because Kiyo-sama has a frail body, his condition deteriorated and took the turn for the worse. Kasuga received severe reprimands, and she was forbidden to meet him again. After that, Kasuga was punished by her Institutional Director grandma to work in Tenjin-ya, so that she would learn the harshness of the outside world. Work really, really hard. That was why everybody always asked Kasuga to do a lot of errands here and there, she was told off to do things for others a lot... But nobody knew that Kasuga was in that circumstance. When everybody learned that Kasuga was an Ojou-sama, it was impossible not to get shocked. It seemed that none of the management staff in Tenjin-ya knew Kasuga's personal history. "However, when Kasuga started to work a lot in Tenjin-ya, it became obvious that she has become changed. Her movements P198 have grown to be more responsible, when total strangers scold her as she was earning hard for her money by working, it was because she hasn't had much experiences. It was altogether different when she met O-ryo-san. She raised Kasuga with eagerness and zeal, the Kasuga who doesn't know anything. This was because it was before O-ryo-san became the Wakaokami." "Really now. So that is why, until now 'O-ryo-sama' is still how Kasuga calls O-ryo." "Yes, that's right. Well, since O-ryo-san is always acting with so much insolence, being with her eventually turned Kasuga into a grown-up." "Well, that's for sure..." O-ryo may have raised Kasuga, in a way O-ryo's bad example probably made Kasuga grow... I could remember when I first came to Kakuriyo. When she got demoted from being the Wakaokami, when O-ryo got a fever, Kasuga brought her here. That time it was somehow unimaginable, but Kasuga, even though she has her own issues to deal with didn't forsake O-ryo. "Kasuga was here, due to the things that she did during her childhood. After that, even though Kasuga can't see Kiyo-sama again... it can be said that it was their fate, wasn't it? When Kiyo-sama became the North's Hachiyo, Kasuga decided to get married to him. Even though they were separated once, this time because they were pushed to a marriage against their own will, it can be said that they have grown into mature beings. Although they may be childhood friends, aren't they having such a complicated idea?" P199 "..." Kasuga, with what she meant with her expressions and her words, I could only realize what her explanations were. She may be smiling because she was going to get married to her first love, but to that end there were still some unfinished issues not taken care of. I was worried. Because Kasuga is my friend. When I came here, I prayed for everybody in Tenjin-ya happiness, likewise I allowed to myself to go through anybody's sadness that they hold, and I couldn't imagine that in my dreams. "Kasuga, she's surely leaving, isn't she?" "Yes, that's right. I daresay that the engagement talks, it's going to progress from now. Aside from that, the Northern Land is not in the road towards stability, but it seems that Kasuga is fully aware of her position. But isn't getting married troublesome? Aoi-san, when you came here, didn't you have a lot of problems?" I peeked at Chiaki-san's face, and he asked. Surely, it was also that same reason why I came here... "But.. I'm not going to get married to Odanna-sama yet!" "Ahaha. While Kasuga was talking about it, she seems to constantly retort that, right?" "Wah, don't laugh at me--" Chiaki-san kept hitting his hand faintly while laughing. Anybody who's facing their worries and affections would eventually show their true feelings, in the end. P200 "Aoi-san. Kasuga has concerned friends such as Aoi-san, who saves her. If that's the case, from here on end... If I could ask for Aoi-san's permission as the need arises, please help us. I want you to help us..." "..." "Aoi-san and Kasuga, will eventually grow to have similar positions in the future, won't they? Being a Hachiyo's wife... Behind the political stage, becoming one is a huge role to carry on one's shoulder. It's because in Kakuriyo, that is the wife of a great Youkai." With an earnest expression he was making his request, but I can't say my routine answer of "No I am not yet married to Odanna-sama". Instead... "Awww... Ish Aoi-shaan crying..?" Chibi who was playing with the acorn lying around, suddenly stopped and pointed at me. He placed his flipper on my hand. "It's, it's not like that! The ashes from the charcoal grill got into my eye!"** "Eh?! Aoi-san... I'm so sorry, I was being weird..." "No, it's not that..." But why do the tears keep on coming... My eyes hurt from the stinging pain, I thought that it was because of the ashes that flew out of the charcoal grill, but at the same time T/N: Yeah right, sure Aoi, keep telling yourself that bwahahaha we all know what's happening here **Lenny face** P201 I was attacked by the merciless thoughts that words cannot describe. Kasuga may have already braced herself with her decision, but I barely have any awareness, that in Kakuriyo I allowed myself to be dragged here to Kakuriyo selfishly. Kasuga is going to leave Tenjin-ya with a smile, I wonder if I can have that... When she's going to be the Northern Land's Hachiyo's wife, meanwhile me here, I don't know... "Ah, uhm, Aoi-san please stop crying..." "Aoi-shaan. Aoi-shaan if you keep crying you'll get uglyyy--" "What the, I already told you I wasn't crying!" Chiaki-san was all consoling-mode, and while at it Chibi was consoling while saying so many things. It's perplexing, it makes no sense that I was crying and sobbing. Chiaki-san was explicitly, one way or another saying a lot himself, and was in a panic. He stooped down and as he pulled out his hand towel, he was saying "I'm sorry, are you alright? I'm so sorry.." In the corner of my mind, as I was wiping my eyes I thought about what O-ryo said before, that this amiable, good-natured young man takes others into consideration so much, no wonder he's absolutely popular. But a while ago, he was wiping off Chibi's drool... "Aoi-san, thank you for your hard work..." Ginji-san unfortunately saw that scenario, just as he came to Yugao. P202 "..." While Ginji-san was still wearing his smile, he quickly went over to Chiaki-san. "Hey Chiaki. What is this? Why did you make Aoi-san cry?" It was scary, Ginji-san grabbed Chiaki-san's collar by the neck, and a shadow fell across his eyes. "The mild-mannered Wakadanna-sama got so scary!" said Chiaki-san as he went pale, and in that moment he turned into a cute, brown Tanuki. Turning into a surprised and scared Tanuki, he's definitely like Kasuga right there. Thankfully, my tears had stopped flowing. "I'm alright, Ginji-san. It's just because some of the ashes went into my eyes. Chiaki-san was just worried for me." "Is.. is that so? I'm sorry, everybody. I may have misunderstood a bit..." Somehow due to that misunderstanding, for some reason Ginji-san's cheeks twinged, and his ears drooped. "Oh! The ginko nuts!" "Ah!" In that moment, Chiaki-san and I remembered what we were supposed to be doing. While I was serving Chiaki-san food, it went over our heads and we forgot about it. "Oh, could that be for Odanna-sama and everyone else, in the back of the mountain? I was about to go there too. P203 I wanted to bring sake and a large towel, and I dispatched an Ogre-fire so fast." "Sake and towel...?" "Because it's rare, let's bring the charcoal grill, and let's all go to the mountain behind Tenjin-ya, together. We'll roast the ginko nuts in there, we're going to have an elegant feast. It's surely going to be a really good appetizer** for moon-viewing sake." "Wah, that's wonderful!" Ginji-san's plan made me feel ecstatic. Just a while ago I was sobbing because of that, but now it's because we're going to cook.

There is a mountain behind Tenjin-ya, and it's a facility where hotspring-boiled eggs are made, has an open-air hotspring, a foot bath, a famous summer place where rice can be cooked in open air, among others, it was a facility with a lot of various uses and has complete furnishings. Odanna-sama was with Tenjin-ya's founding members Byakuya-san and Dr. Saraku, I wonder what were they discussing about... "Hey, this is different from the usual path..." Normally we would be walking through the path in the bamboo grove, but this time we climbed up. I thought that the pipe cats would come out squirming as we passed through the bamboo grove, but this time we turned through a narrow path in front of us, it was lined up with old Jizou statues** and hanging lanterns, and we walked on a small, unpaved path. T/N: Yeah I know it sounds absurd but if you've tried drinking liquor while eating nuts or even some salty junk food, it actually tastes good together. Broke college days cheap beer and cheap junk food lol Jizou=地蔵=patrons of children, you probably saw at least one when you watched J-dramas or anime, the people usually put on scarves and/or hats on them whenever it snows. P204 "This time the bamboo grove is not passable. Other than Tenjin-ya's facilities, since long ago it has been called the secret base of Tenjin-ya's management staff." "Really, a secret base?" "Be that as it may, I didn't say that others are forbidden to enter it. It gives off the feel of children's secret base, that's why it was called as such." If that's the case. my expectations have increased. It has tickled my childish mind. "This season's surely great. Don't you think so, Ginji-san?" "Yes... I thought that Aoi-san would like too. Saying that somehow... You're twinkling." "Twinkling?" While Chiaki-san and Ginji-san were talking, as we left the little road lined up with Jizou statues, there was... "Wahhhh! Amazing! It's pampas grass!" It was a wide field where the pale silver ears of the pampas grass were swaying. Under the clear, night sky where the the moon floats up above, it mystically rules this place and its scenery. Occasionally I've seen the pampas grass growing in the inner garden, but in this wide field there was pampas grass everywhere I looked, like autumn has begun. The ears of the pampas grass in Kakuriyo were specially fluffy, it seems to be enveloped by the fleeting light. Not only does the light dance in the sky but there was also a light breeze, and with the floating full moon above, the light seems P205 to soak it all up... it was an emotionally-moving spectacle. "The children in Kakuriyo play in the pampas grass fields and turn them into their secret bases, you know. Even back in my hometown I used to do that a lot." "Odanna-sama and everyone else, I think that they're in an old shrine after that pampas grass field. There is a hotspring over there that gushes forth with high levels of pure spiritual energies, and since long ago there were facilities that were used to boil things like hell..." We followed Ginji-san who lead the way, and from somewhere we heard the sounds of laughter. That laughing voice, it seems to be from the Thousand-Year Mole** Ayakashi, Dr. Saraku. We left the soft pampas grass field, and there was billowy steam popping out... Is that a hotspring? "..." Somewhat wearing nothing, soaking in that natural hotspring, were the three senior management staff members. Suddenly without warning, with that scene that leaves out the imagination, I got utterly speechless. "Ahhh.. for sure, the moon and the hotspring and the sake, this is the best! I haven't gone above ground after so long... Full moon banzai!" What the, a sake bottle jutted out of a rock, and soaking in the hot spring while holding the small sake drinking bowl, was Dr. Saraku. "Good grief. You've gotten so drunk Saraku. Drinking sake while on a bathtub is bad for the health. You keep saying that you're always hiding and cooping up underground, well now you only want to go above ground whenever you want." Then someone's face appeared to be extremely cautious, with the towel wrapped around his head in the style of someone who's already finished T/N: yeah this mole is a hoax, it's just an old badger with skinny legs lol link to that is here P206 soaking in the hotspring, it was Byakuya-san. "Come now, Byakuya. It has been a long while since we've opened up together like this.** Let's just talk about the really important stuff. Alrighty, let's toast to tonight's full moo---- what the, AOI!!!!!" Odanna-sama wasn't even thoroughly finished when he realized that I was standing out near the edges of the pampas grass field, and he madly dashed back to the hotspring with a splash. Incidentally, Dr. Saraku screamed in a hoarse voice "Gyaaaaaaah" while Byakuya-san quietly and furiously looked at me with his eyes as if saying "It's shameless to peep". "No, no, it's not like I went here on purpose! I was just coming out of the lovely fields of pampas grass here in the mountain, and I didn't realize that I was entering the men's bath!" "Ah, Aoi... Could it be that you.. Wanted to take a bath with me too?" "And how can that happen, how can that even happen, Odanna-sama?" Odanna-sama in his sluggishness did all that he can to make an admirable retort. "Oh, uhm... excuse me but, please use this fresh towels that I have!" In the most critical moment, Ginji-san drew them in to leave the hotspring and wear the towels. "It was because I was in the pampas grass field too." I wasn't really embarassed or blushing like a girlfriend, so I just stayed on the opposite side of the men. "Y-you unfortunately saw a bunch of indecent men, Aoi-san--" T/N: OK fam this part is actually nsfw-ish, as they were all naked together in an open-air hotspring, Odanna-sama's line in the original text was "it's been a while since we've all been naked together" but that just sounds so nsfw so I made a euphemism of some sort. I may be a potty mouth but I also have limits, of infinity lol also srsly I just tried my best to make the following scenes clean, srsly the original japanese text has so many uhm...word play that I deem nsfw srsly I did not expect this, jfc P207 With a forced smile, Chiaki-san followed us here. It was awesome that Chiaki-san somehow said that the bosses being naked was indecent. "It's fine. I have been used to washing Grandpa's back thoroughly." "...what" "Why that speechless expressio....n?" Behind the startled Chiaki-san, I discovered what seems to be an inconspicuous square gazebo. "What's that over there?" We went closer to where it was. There was something that looks like a cauldron, and from its rounded wooden lid steam was coming out. I wonder what they're boiling in there... "Ah, that's is Hell's Cauldron. In here, it's almost never used..." "He-- Hell's Cauldron?" “That cauldron is used to steam ingredients using the hot vapors from the hotsprings. Since the hotsprings also have hot vapors, when these are used to steam food, why, passing them through open fires make them even more delicious. Other than that, here is another thing I can say. When steam that comes out from Tenjin-ya's basements are used to steam ingredients, the steam's composition seems to make them less prone to spoilage." "Really... Isn't that interesting?" Finally, when Ginji-san said that "Alright Aoi-san, it's OK now", I went in front of everybody. P208 A while ago I could only side-glance and go past the three men who were soaking in the open-air hotsprings, but now I followed them for a bit in climbing a small shrine. "Well, Aoi, it's nice that you came." And as if it was nothing, I found Odanna-sama who was sitting in his usual overly-magnanimous pose. There also was Dr. Saraku who was wearing his round, black spectacles  while smiling so brightly as he was holding a bottle of sake, and Byakuya-san who was tapping his fan to the corners of his mouth. But these three management staff members, even though they were comfily wearing large towels after taking a dip in the hotspring, they seemed to be delving into heavy matters. "What were you doing in such a place as this? Did the three of you came to bathe in the hotsprings?" "N-no. In the beginning we were talking about the matter concerning Kasuga. When we eventually thought of going into the hotsprings... Dr. Saraku here, in his drunkeness started pushing Byakuya powerfully into the hotsprings, it was a messy situation." "Byakuya-san wanted to get pushed into the hotsprings" At that point in time I have stopped trembling, and after Byakuya-san cleared his throat, Odanna-sama changed the topic of the conversation. "Kasuga's resignation this month from Tenjin-ya was caused by a lot of issues. That is the path that Kasuga personally chose. As for Tenjin-ya, as Kasuga's marriage is very fortunate, we can't just only give her support from the sides." "..." "...have you gotten lonely, Aoi?" P209 Odanna-sama read my changed expression, and pulling the corners of my eyes together, I smiled. I nodded deeply as I showed my true emotions. "However, there's this sole problem of Hachiyos that hasn't gone away. As Ougondouji-sama predicted, the faction of the Minister of the Left has been calling out the abolition of the Centralized Authoritarian Rulership along with the Hachiyo's Ruling System, hasn't it gotten a lot quieter, Byakuya?" "Hmph. Ougondouji-sama is backed up by the Minister of the Right, but Raijuu is backed up by the Minister of the Left. That guy's evolution doesn't appear to be good, but somehow he's probably making his flashy moves..." Raijuu, isn't it? Odanna-sama and Byakuya-san, they were talking about the movement of Kasuga's marriage, along with the politics of Kakuriyo, and I have no idea what they're talking about right there but... Raijuu making his moves, those words, I couldn't help but not hold on to that without worrying. As the charcoal grill was roasting and toasting the ginko nuts and other tastes of autumn at the shrine's entryway, I remembered the first time that I received Raijuu's maltreatment, and got anguished. "Are you alright, Aoi-san? Is the smoke getting over there?" "Hm? Oh, no.. That's not it, really. The ginko nuts look delicious, don't they?" Ginji-san was fanning the smoke outwards with all his might. Crackle, crackle, the husks of the ginko nuts splitting open were echoing all around. Ah, I could see that these have gotten transluscent, the ginko nut's lovely green color has appeared. When the ginko nuts were gathered they stank, but when they're cooked and ready to eat they seem so appetizing. Those differences were very fascinating. P210 Polishing them brightly, it's not an exaggeration to say that they're the jewels of autumn. Wahh, I wanna eat some... "Kasuga... She works cleverly and is a hardworking person, it's within her core. It's really unfortunate and regretable to lose her as our waitress. It also seems that as a granddaughter leaving by herself, it's so lonely..." Says Odanna-sama. He said it entirely as if he's Kasuga's grandpa. While Odanna-sama was restraining himself from the back, Kasuga's foster-dad Chiaki-san just started crying and sobbing at Odanna-sama's words. Odanna-sama just started patting Chiaki-san's knees, it mysteriously consoled him. "Hey, you know what, Kasuga Ojou-chan always runs so many errands for the basement team, I always give her the unsold manjuu to take home." Oh, so that's why Kasuga always brings in a lot of Tenjin-ya's unsold manjuu, those were given to her by Dr. Saraku. "But from now on, Kasuga's position has changed. Tenjin-ya will be protecting her from behind, and we'll make a lot of souvenirs and other things for her to bring when we send her off. Let's not talk about bad things, Tenjin-ya has its members marrying a Hachiyo one after another.” Byakuya-san opened his fan and while fanning his face, from the corners of his mouth he was somewhat stiffling a laugh. I wonder what souvenirs could those be... "Ah, that's right, Yomego-chan**! Speaking of souvenirs, our souvenirs, OUR souvenirs! Before, Tenjin-ya inquired about the hotspring manjuu, how are those coming along?" T/N: Yomego-chan=嫁御ちゃん=Dr. Saraku calls Aoi as Daughter-in-Law-chan. I've done enough speed runs to know why, so I'll just leave it like this. Don't worry fam, it's cute once that goes up, idk when though T_T dang it, my Nihongo learning skills couldn't keep up T_T P211 "Come again?" While talking about it, Dr. Saraku remembered the matter about the souvenirs, and he abruptly changed it. Everyone stared at me. "Ah, uhm... We're in the middle of our test trials, Dr. Saraku. It will get finished by the time we hold the Autumn Festival." "We don't want an expensive souvenir Aoi-kun." "Well now, Byakuya-san. My basic menu costs minimally. But one more step isn't enough... The usual manjuu as a newly-released product doesn't have enough impact, we have to change it into a striking product so people won't lose interest in it. When the Autumn Festival starts, we'll have it ready." While in the middle of talking about the souvenirs, I instantly had an idea. That's it. The new souvenir from Tenjin-ya...I should also consult Kasuga about it. Kasuga has eaten a lot of Tenjin-ya's manjuu, it seems that she'll have a lot of opinions on what kinds of suitable manjuu can Tenjin-ya make. More than anything, I want Kasuga to taste the new manjuu we'll make before she leaves. It's settled then. I immediately brought a bowl of roasted ginko nuts to Odanna-sama, and he oh-ed when he took one kernel, peeled it of its charred color, and ate the green seed. "Mmmm, this ginko nut tastes good" "It's because it was roasted on a charcoal grill. Roasting the seeds with their husks keeps in the fragrance, and the bitter after taste of the crumbly seeds get more tolerable, which are P212 uniquely the ginko nut's trait. Would you want to try adding coarse salt?" This is too easy to be called cooking, the flavors of autumn, enjoying these as they are, it's the best. Particularly the ginko nuts, just serving them with a bit of salt is exquisite. "Everyone, there's also grilled matsutake mushrooms, and some dried mackerel too. Please have these with the sake." Ginji-san grilled all of these on the charcoal grill, served them in a large platter, and placed them in the center where the management staff were seated. Seeing the flavors of autumn arranged together, my mouth started watering again. "Please take a seat too, Wakadanna-dono" Byakuya-san offered Ginji-san some sake. He only has been waiting to be called for and his expression became so bright, he brought his sake cup and entered the circle of drinkers. It seemed that he somehow, wanted to drink some sake. "Aoi, you come here too. I'm sorry that you have to work here even after Yugao's business hours." "Hm?" "...even your hand, it's full of cracks. She may be of a marriagable age, yet we're helped by such a hard-worker." Matching his concerned words, Odanna-sama faced me, and casually took my hands. Just a while ago the conversations were flowing, and that reminds me... After that Orchard Park date, after a long while we faced each other upfront, for one reason or another I felt embarassed. I flagrantly moved away my face, and the hand he was holding, I pulled it away. "Th-that is, because I work in a Japanese restaurant. Lately it has gotten cold, and my hands have gotten all worn out. P213 But today there weren't many customers, I thought that I needed my body to move some more." "Ahaha, Aoi is definitely a hard-worker, right?" Odanna-sama has always been extremely understanding.** I only realized, it seems that he's only weird with me. "Oh, right. Would you like to drink some of the sweet sake that I got hold of? It has no additives, and no alcohol." "What's that? I wanna drink that." Just a while ago I was all aloof and cold, now I just heard the phrase "There's sweet sake" and my bearing changed 180 degrees. Chiaki-san seemed to have realized my interest, and from the shrine's altar where a lot of the bottles were arranged, he took one and brought it for me. The package gives off a vibe of it being undeniably a high-class product, and my excitement was at its peak. Using the sake cup from the grilled foods plate, Odanna-sama triumphantly poured the sweet sake for me. The sweet sake's particularl trait, I peeked on it and its color is a bit like undisturbed milk, and on the clear top layer some malted rice were floating on it, I saw these as they were shining. "Tenjin-ya has always been in the care of OROCHI's work - The Ebitsu Liquor Products. They made these using only the newly-harvested rice for this year, this product isn’t released in stores to be sold." While Odanna-sama was talking about the product, I took a sip. Ah... Somehow the flavor gave me a sigh of relief. It wasn't too sweet, there wasn't any odor, this sweet sake is easy to drink. There were some grainy lumps left behind, T/N: this phrase is vague-ish, the transliterated version means that he's always glugging the liquor heartily but again, gah this chapter is just full of word plays, really P214 It was really delicious, the sweet sake is like home-brewed and hand-made. I like this grainy stuff too. I could understand why it's really enjoyable, it was hand-made and isn't sold to the public. "This is amazing... I always had the impression that sweet sake has a stench, but this one changed my mind." "It's not altogether a waste using this product, the sweetness of the malted rice helps the flavor to stick to it. That is probably why despite that there aren't so many people who like the sweet sake's unique odor, I like this sweet and mild taste, and every year, when the time comes they make this sweet sake, with a personalized note. I heard that it's also good for your body." "Really now.. Odanna-sama likes this sweet sake. And yet you hate the sweet pumpkin?" "Oh, aren’t the sweet sake and the pumpkin entirely different? A pumpkin is hollow, when it's boiled it gets stuck in the throat. It's soft and sticky, and that is why I find it difficult to eat it." Odanna-sama said those things while sourly turning his eyes away to the side. "That's why I thought somehow, that you were sneakily placing those in my bowl, Odanna-sama" "Byakuya! Don't reveal something that nasty to Aoi!" Odanna-sama was pnaicking and wailing a lot, but I have previously heard that from Ginji-san... On the other hand, Ginji-san has sunk into a drunken stupor. While Byakuya-san poured some sake for him, Ginji-san's nine tails would incidentally move a lot, and he has been extremely exhausted from drinking. It was like eating wanko soba.** "I also want to drink some sweet sake" "Ah, well then I shall pour for you" T/N: wanko soba=わんこそば= this has always weirded me out, it's like they put a bite-size portion in a tiny bowl and they'll keep giving this to you until you get full, like an endless stream of soba/buckwheat noodles. Personally just give the whole thing to me and I'll eat it lol P215 This time, I poured Odanna-sama some of the sweet sake. Looking at that scene with a laidback yet careful attitude, Dr. Saraku suggestively went "Hey, heeeey" while his face broke into a grin. "Yomego-chan pouring sake like that for Odanna-sama, somehow you look like a real husband and wife. After Kasuga Ojou-chan, it's also a good idea to write your marriage registration here too." "What?" "Hmmm... You have a point there. Following Kasuga's lead, pretty soon Aoi-kun will brace herself too." Even Byakuya-san. I could feel that the two higher management members have severely put me under so much pressure, I'm just thoroughly shrivelled. Well, isn't this vibe like what happens all over the country, when a girl reaches a marriagable age the parents just pushes her to get married? "Hey now, both of you stop that. I don't want to force Aoi against her will." "What's that?" "Until Aoi likely decides to have me for her husband, I'll... be waiting forever." "..." What the, this Odanna-sama is being meek. While sipping the sweet sake bit by bit, his face is just full of dejection. Even though before, he said that he had no intention of waiting forever... P216 I can't understand what Odanna-sama's intentions were, but if it's useless to push him, should I pull back? Might it be that, Odanna-sama already, vehemently, doesn't want to marry me anymore? I felt emotionally-struck a thousand times, I don't understand why there is this puzzling feeling of impending fears. Lately I have been... such an emotional wreck.

End of Chapter 6, Volume 6. Previous - Chapter 5    Next - Chapter 7

References:

Wonderful site for the youkai references

Other stuff I used to do this: Kodansha Kanji Learner’s Dictionary (you can buy here, I’m not sponsored btw). I was about to buy the older edition but then the newer one came out 2013 so I bought that instead. Worth buying since I was able to find nearly all of the words I needed just by stroke pattern alone.

Merriam-Webster's Japanese-English Dictionary (the red-covered 1996 version is apparently out of print right now). This is what I have been using for a very long time, I bought it when I was still a fetus (yes I am old so what lol), and after so many years, when compared to newer editions, I still prefer this one since its entirety is Japanese-English, the English to Japanese gloss are just 16 pages tops, so you get more Japanese words for your buck. But that’s just my opinion, maybe other people prefer the Jap-En x En-Jap IDEK.

Basic online dictionary, Jisho. Knowledge of verb conjugations  and other words are necessary since not all have entries.

If you can read Japanese, you can buy the whole set in Amazon Japan, they’re shipping worldwide now, I think.

#kakuriyo no yadomeshi #kakuriyo no yadomeshi light novel #kakuriyo no yadomeshi volume 6 chapter 6 #kakuriyo no yadomeshi english fan translation #kakuriyo no yadomeshi light novel english #kakuriyo no yadomeshi light novel volume 6 chapter 6

[multiverseofmiracleshq]

1/3 of the Reality Stone fragments remained with its host, Ripley Ryan, in the hospital. Determined to finish what they started, the Black Widow and Winter Soldier headed to the Intensive Care Unit along with a team of mutants who were sent by Wanda Maximoff to cast a reality binding spell. Once their goal was achieved, there was nothing standing between them and Zemo at the Town Hall.

These events come AFTER the INN and MUSEUM and before the TOWN HALL.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky pushed through the hospital doors with both hands, metal clinking against the acrylic outer shell and double paned panels. He was hot on Natasha's heels, having made a pitstop for the both of them at the museum before the rest of the crew could cause too much of an issue. When he caught up to her just before she hit the stairwell, he slid her a twin set of guns and then readjusted the strap to his AR. "Sure we can't just shoot first and ask questions later?"

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Although not in her suit, Natasha had clicked on the two Widow’s Bites that Barnes had taken from the Museum. The two guns were a gift from a poor S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was now weaponless, but Natasha accepted them from James all the same. “You want to risk shooting the wrong person?” Checking how much ammo she had, the Widow shook her head. “Personal mission. Maybe bad form, but family first.” Knowing that Taskmaster was in the building - and still sore from their last run in  - Natasha quietly pushed the door open and raised her gun while she rounded the corner, coming face to face with a crying girl in scrubs. “Too easy.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky clicked his tongue at that. "Fuck form. I would've taken more, but I know how much Barton is attached to his bow." he was only mildly joking, using it as a way to fill the space so he didn't spiral into his own mind. "Think we should've accepted back up?" And now he really was joking, mirroring Nat with his own weapon. He stopped short when they came around the corner and he instinctively tightened his grip on his gun. "It's never that easy."

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Eyes rolling, Natasha quickly checked over her shoulder. “Easy to say when it fits the situation,” she hummed. “We do have back-up. Bobbi’s here and changing. She’s got the codes. Psylocke is somewhere looking for her friends. Apparently, Wanda is helping the mutants.” Whatever helped them through. Lowering her gun slightly, Natasha glanced from the sniffling young adult to the name tag she wore. “Hey, Astrid. Sad day at the hospital?”

YELENA BELOVA: Caught up in her own moping, ‘Astrid’ started at the sound of the woman’s voice and sat up as she quickly wiped at her eyes. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. No. I mean -- yes. It’s a hospital. But our patients usually are cured. Just bad dating experiences. Dumb, I know.” She nudged her magazine closed. “Are you here to visit someone?”

BUCKY BARNES: "Bad dating experiences?" he couldn't keep the question out of his tone, the laughable disbelief. He cocked the gun single handedly before dropping it back in his grip. "In fact we are. Wanna tell me who it is you're crying over?"

YELENA BELOVA: Although his tone was a little snide, the brunette didn’t notice. It was lonely at the front desk if she wasn’t making rounds and her friends were fine but the recent dumping had taken a toll. “His name is Jim. He’s a nice guy. Was a nice guy. We went on a few dates and he went all two-faced. Completely ghosted me. That was three days ago.”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Natasha wracked her brain. “Helmut,” she swore under her breath. “Astrid, have you talked to ‘Jim’ since?”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky just...blinked at her. Then, all of a sudden he barked a laugh, shaking his head. "How mad would you be if I took out all of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked, voice lower, only for Nat to hear. "Yeah, 'Strid, we just wanna talk to him. He's like family, you get it."

YELENA BELOVA: Finally really taking the guns in consideration, Astrid slowly stood and reached around her scrubs for her buzzer. “I should call Chris. He’s head of Hospital security and he can help you figure out where you’re headed.”

BUCKY BARNES: That wasn’t really part of the plan. “Yel-Astrid, Jim’s a little more important right now.” With a sigh, Bucky aimed the AR, barrel directed at ‘Astrid’. “We don’t need head of security.” A red dot appeared at the center of her scrubs, the buzz of the scope a sound only he could hear. “Just give Jim a call, yeah?”

YELENA BELOVA: “He’s not gonna answer,” she huffed as her eyes welled up again. “I just told you -- he’s not interested in me. I think it’s my thighs. It has to be.” Nearly crosseyed, she stared at the light on her scrubs and the demanding man. Fumbling for her phone, Astrid dialed with shaking fingers. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. “See? Thighs.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky clicked off the scope, the red light disappearing before he lowered his gun. ”I’m just gonna hit her. You good with that?” he asked Natasha.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Watching the entire exchange, Natasha had shouldered past Yelena at one point to rummage through the cabinets behind the desk. They needed as much info about the Database as possible, and there a possibility some of Ripley’s medical records were there. At Bucky’s question, she glanced up. Yelena would be pissed, but the two of them had come for a reason. “Only if you’re done hearing about Jim.”

BUCKY BARNES: “Ha ha.” Bucky came over, keeping Astrid’s eyes on him as he came around the desk. “Hey, ‘Strid-“ he employed the same method he had used on the Wyngarde sister, slamming the side of his gun into her temple just hard enough to shake around some loose change. “You have great thighs.”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: “Oof.” Natasha exhaled as the gun connected with her sisters temple. Deftly moving to catch Yelena and ease her to the ground, the spy crouched down and inspected the welt that was already growing. It still didn’t look like Yelena, but she had stopped crying. “You could have been a little bit more graceful, but I’ll take it. Grab her.” Natasha rose. “We’re not leaving her for Taskmaster to find.” Best to let him think ‘Astrid’ had just abandoned her post or was doing her rounds. The S.H.I.EL.D. pager Bobbi had given her buzzed in her hand and Natasha pocketed it. “We’ve got a room. Intensive care unit, Room 8-1. You know, I always said Clint married up.” Grabbing Astrid’s badge for good measure, Natasha clicked the safety off on her gun. “Let’s go.”

KWANNON: Elsewhere, Psylocke and Laura had waited quietly in the shade of the building. The telepathic signal being emitted led the newly arrived X-Men to the hospital. Raven head tipped to the side, Psylocke held a hand out to gesture that Magik, Synch and Nico should enter the hospital. The door swung closed between them, faces flushing from recycled air. “Intensive Care Unit is the top floor. You know what to do?”

BUCKY BARNES: "Graceful?" it came out more as a scoff and Bucky crouched down, adjusting the AR to lay flat against his back again so he could sling Yelena's fake body over his shoulder. She hung limply, swaying back and forth when he stood. "When have you ever known me to be graceful." he said just as he twisted around, narrowly clipping Yelena's head on the edge of the counter. "ICU? What are the chances he'll be in a coma and I can just smother him."

EVERETT THOMAS: Synch followed Magik and the other witch into the hospital, trying his best not to let himself get too wrapped up in everything around him. This whole thing was pretty messed up of SHIELD, but his main focus was Laura. Even if she didn’t remember any of it, he still felt bonded to her in ways he could barely describe. And making sure she was safe was definitely high on his priorities. “Yeah, we’ve got it.” He responded to Kwannon, making sure to keep on high alert as he scanned their surroundings.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: The sneakers that she had worn as Lulu Gordon were more for show than actual practical use, and the treads were nearly nonexistent. Nat couldn’t actually remember working out in Pleasant Hill, just posing on her yoga mat for selfies instead. It was hard not to slide around with no traction but she pushed open a door to another stairwell and held it open for Bucky, watching to make sure he didn’t smack Yelena’s head into the wall. “You would have failed the Red Room,” she hummed. Presentation begets perfection, after all. Natasha had been the best. Yelena had been better. “Zemo’s at Town Hall. That’s not why we’re here. Ripley’s intubated upstairs. They’re making a play for the Infinity Stone. Did you read your file?” Stopping abruptly, Natasha flattened herself against the wall by the doorway of the next level. She could hear footsteps in the hall, and that felt deliberate in the quiet hospital. Gesturing with her chin towards the door, Nat pushed it open and raised her gun. She moved quickly to turn but still found her face connecting with a fist.

BUCKY BARNES: "I didn't care to read pages and pages of documents beyond who was who and what they were capable of." Which was a delicate way of saying, 'did you really think I would?'. Somewhere along the way of climbing flights, Bucky stashed Yelena's unconscious body in a medical supplies closet, knowing that she wouldn't wake up for a while and that he needed both hands. As soon as they both went into alert, hands moved too fast for Nat to dodge and him to barely skid to a stop and back up, gun immediately raising. He fired off a few rounds, the spray of bullets disoriented in the ambush.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Wiping blood off her nose, Natasha dropped her gun and kicked it to the side. Bullets never tended to work with Taskmaster. She’d keep it for backup. He had his shield and a collapsed bow. Claws in his gloves. Basically, he was as tricked out as ever. “Still sore about last time?” The ( former ) redhead squared her shoulders back. “Zemo can’t be offering you enough for this.” But he was silent, like always, and a moment later the two were locked in hand to hand combat.

ILLYANA RASPUTINA: Sword pulled off of her back, Illyana cast a wary look around the hall. “I hate hospitals,” she muttered. Wanda’s spell was complicated but she had drilled it into the sorceress and witch. “It would be easier if we could teleport out after, but apparently we have to walk. No mutant left behind.” Lorna, Gabby, Rogue.

LAURA KINNEY: As the mutants made their way through the hospital, Laura paused and narrowed her eyes. There were more people in the hospital than their should have been. “Take the back.” She instructed Kwannon. “James Barnes is moving to the southern wing.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky dropped the gun, the strap catching on his shoulder before it banged against his hip. It was only Taskmaster, the asshole with the psuedo copycat style and a piss poor attitude. "Less talking-" he kicked at Taskmaster, just hard enough to diverge his attention and have him focused on both of them. "Glad I dropped our nice office secretary off, huh."

NATASHA ROMANOFF: He had got in three good hits but Natasha was at four. “Nursing student,” she huffed as she dodged a kick. “This is a dead end. He won’t quit. It’s called a distraction.”

EVERETT THOMAS: Everett followed closely behind, trying his best to keep close to Laura without making her feel like he was suffocating her. He didn’t want to make things weird in any way, but God was it hard. “Hey uh, are you okay?”

BUCKY BARNES: "So in all those times you've fought him, you never figured out a way to beat him?" They parried some more, moving this way and that. "I'm not going to leave you here to get your pretty yoga instructor face punched in."

BOBBI MORSE: One of the doctor’s personal offices had always been stocked for agents -- as a safety precaution. It was working well in their favor. Her locker held a spare uniform and set of staves that she gratefully hooked into their holsters before grabbing three disruptors. One went onto her own neck and her body shuddered in relief as her appearance twisted back to its regular self. She broke out in a sprint until she found Barnes and Romanoff, and Bobbi tossed them each a chip before kicking off the wall to strike Taskmaster with a baton. As she should have predicted, his bow separated into staves of his own. “What’re you guys still doing down here?”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: If she hadn’t been focused on not getting slashed in half with a sword, Natasha would have rolled her eyes. “It keeps evolving. More new heroes, more moves. We haven’t killed each other yet.” The elastic she had tied her hair up with was falling out, but then Bobbi was there. Nat caught the small chip and quickly fastened it on the back of her neck. There was a second before her body was her own once more, clothed in the uniform she had entered the town with. Even though she was lacking any of her weapons other than the Widow’s Bite, it felt good to see her own hands again. “How about my normal face getting punched in?”

BUCKY BARNES: "That isn't obvious?" Bucky said, arms coming up to cover his face when Taskmaster slammed a fist down. Jumping back, he caught the chip, using what he knew from the file to revert his appearance back into something a little bulkier, steadier, familiar. "It's not exactly easy to get to the reality stone harboring mad woman when there's 600 tons of body armor in the way."

LAURA KINNEY: Lips twitching, Laura pivoted on one heel. “I look like a cheerleader.” She had gone to pep rallies with pom-poms and enthusiasm. The whole nine yards. The worst part was that she had fun, on some level. That pretty much summed up how she was. “I want them to cast the spell so we can get out of here. No more Vaults, no more Pleasant Hill’s.”

BOBBI MORSE: “I have complete and total faith in this woman.” Bobbi held a hand to her temple to  stop her vision from swimming after a hit. “But we need to keep moving. Nat, you said you’re old friends. I don’t want to ruin the reunion.” When the redhead nodded, Bobbi arched a brow at Bucky before running into the nearest stairwell and taking the stairs two at a time.

EVERETT THOMAS: Everett couldn’t help his soft chuckle at the cheerleader comment as he nodded at her. “I mean, it’s not a bad look. Definitely not you, though.” He pointed out, nodding solemnly at her next words. But unfortunately, they were X-Men and this was probably not going to be the last Pleasant Hill. Or Vault. Before he could say much else, a scalpel flew through the air and stuck onto the wall next to them, revealing Bullseye standing down the hall. “Shit..”

VIVIAN VISION: Vivian followed alongside the mutants as they made their way through the hospital, careful to be attentive to their surroundings. As they all rounded the corner, a scalpel was flung through the air, nearly hitting Viv in the face as it struck the wall and they were face to face with Bullseye. “We need to divide. We can’t let him keep us from the stone. Magik, Nico, I can phase us into her room? I think we’re close.”

BUCKY BARNES: "Shitty reunion." he looked over at Nat, only falling back from Taskmaster when he saw the confirmation in her steady gaze. Breaking off, he followed Bobbi up the stairs, finding no other obstacles before hitting a floor with double doors that read: Authorized Personnel Only: Intensive Care Unit. He slowed, weapon coming back around to rest in his grip. "They powered a whole town by putting a girl into a coma." he said it with a mix of disbelief and frustration. "S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't exactly convincing me they shouldn't become a government section lost to time." The room was empty when they entered, the doors clattering behind them. He wasn't sure keeping quiet had any point anymore. Gun poised, he scanned the empty beds, not even noticing the low beep of the monitor and the occupied bed because his eyes landed on Yelena, seated and scanning through...something. "Didn't I leave you in a broom closet?" he said a little breathlessly, grip tightening on the weapon.

YELENA BELOVA: Was she mad? Yes. At Bucky and Natasha? No. At S.H.I.EL.D.? Of course. At Zemo, at the situation. Yelena had been pissed when she came to in a broom closet, tossed to the side like a basic cleaning supply. She remembered Astrid Massey, but her face wasn’t her own. Bullseye had met her in the hallway. He had given her the device Zemo was passing around to his teammates, the disrupter returning her to her former form. As Benjamin headed down the  hallway to meet the ‘heroes’, Yelena moved to the ICU and found the Database. The codes were already unlocked from whatever doctor had run away mid scan from the intruders, and when the door opened Yelena glanced back over her shoulder. “Seemed more fun out here. I saw Taskmaster downstairs, but this was a better opportunity. They never let me up here. Now I know why.”

BUCKY BARNES: “Natasha is handling it.” Bucky remarked, lowering his weapon just a little bit. “I know what you’re doing, and it sucks to say this, but it isn’t helping. We can handle the database later, we need to deal with Ripley now.” he spoke pointedly at her, knowing that any form of coddling or soft spoken words didn’t apply here. Not that it ever did. Bucky could never imagine babying Yelena in any situation. “Just trust me on this.”

VIVIAN VISION: Vivian quickly grabbed onto Magik and Nico, not wasting any time as she phased the three of them past Bullseye and through to Ripley’s hospital room.

LAURA KINNEY: At his comment, the arch of a brow broke Laura’s deadpan. “Debatable taste.” She commented offhandedly. At the sight of Bullseye she crouched, lunging towards him without claws. Kwannon could follow Viv and the spellcasters. Laura had no problem being a distraction.

YELENA BELOVA: “Natasha is getting her ass handed to her. Again.” The sisters had a messy history with Taskmaster. She hit a key and the code flashed red, the page turning to a simple box for an access code. “We have to shut down the Database.” Yelena straightened up to look at him, her own gun holstered. “We can’t let them do this anymore.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky worked through the tic in his jaw, leveling his voice. By now, his nerves were frayed. “Do you Yelena?” he lowered the gun even more until the barrel was pointed at the floor. “Do you trust me?”

YELENA BELOVA: For a long moment, she just stared. Did she? It wasn’t easily answered. “I want to.” Yelena replied honestly. A finger hovered above the key before she moved, body tightening and constricting as she fell.

BOBBI MORSE: Running behind due to having to disable to alarms on the floor, Bobbi skidded to a stop as she lowered her stun gun. “--She was going to hit the key, right?”

YELENA BELOVA: “Fuck. You.” Yelena hissed from the ground, fingers digging into the tile as she tried to pull herself up. She wasn’t going to hit the key.

BUCKY BARNES: “Seriously?” he hissed, the metal plates clamping into place audibly as he tightened his grip. “Seriously, Bobbi?” he was pissed, clearly. “No wonder you’re a fucking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” Bucky snatched the stun gun from Bobbi’s grip on his way past her, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it until it was in a bunch of little pieces before he finished his walk to Yelena. “She wasn’t going to hit the fucking key.” he crouched down, helping Yelena back to her feet. “What’s next? You want to hit Ripley too? Do you more good.”

BOBBI MORSE: “Oh, c’mon.” Bobbi muttered as she had the stun gun ripped away and trampled. It wasn’t like that would have been helpful for defense or anything. “Tell me she’s not a flight risk.” Dark eyes narrowed. “I’d love to hit Ripley. Hopefully wake her up. That goddamn stone is fragmenting and destabilizing the town. If it collapses we all may be written out off reality. No happy reunion with your girlfriend then, huh?”

YELENA BELOVA: Yelena just spit towards Bobbi’s feet as James help her up, holding on to his arm even when she was upright.

BUCKY BARNES: “You think you’re the one to call that?” he shot over his shoulder, fully standing now. “Being written out of reality wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to me this year.” he turned his attention to Yelena, looking her over but he didn’t ask her if she were okay. “You make an awful nurse, you know that?”

ILLYANA RASPUTINA: Phasing in along with Viv and Nico, Illyana stepped around the broken black shards of a weapon. “Now this is where the party is.” She laughed slightly. Making her way to the bed, dark lined eyes narrowed at the woman. Tugging the hospital gown to the side, the red glow of the Stone was flickering under the white bandages. “They said you would have another fragment. We need two.”

BOBBI MORSE: “I think I’m deepest in the shit and have used the Database before, so I made a snap judgement call. It’s not like I shot her. We talked it out.” Bobbi didn’t flinch at the spit. “Maybe not for you, but there’s a lot of other people here.”

YELENA BELOVA: “Nursing student.” Yelena muttered. “The scrubs were ugly.”

RIRI WILLIAMS: She had smashed in the window of the wrong room during her entry, but Riri found the right one after checking for heat signatures. “You have a second fragment now.” The suit’s chamber opened to expose the Reality Stone shard. “Zemo’s got the third.”

BUCKY BARNES: “They were pretty ugly.” he agreed quietly, face pinched lightly at the edges. His head whipped sharply around at Riri’s entrance, completely ignoring Bobbi at this point. “So we go get Zemo.” he took a breath. “Finally.”

ILLYANA RASPUTIN: As the armored teen guided the Stone back to its host, Magik looked to Nico. “Are you ready?” It wasn’t really a question. With eyes glowing blue, she held a hand out over the chest of Ripley. “I’m going to be very unhappy if she chooses to smite us.”

NICO MINORU: Nico looked down at the incubated woman, trying her best not to be intimidated by the thought of all that could go wrong as she adjusted her grip on her staff and nodded. She looked towards Riri as she entered the room and smiled in relief at the sight of another stone. “Okay, yeah. Ready.” She agreed as she gripped her staff and held her other hand over Ripley to follow Magik. “Stabilize.” The staff emitted a glow as she focused herself onto the spell.

YELENA BELOVA: “Jim. What a nice young man.” Yelena scoffed. She paused, softening slightly as she turned to face Bucky fully. “Thank you.” Her tone was composed of genuine relief. Rising up to reach his face, Yelena pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I do trust you.”

BOBBI MORSE: Determined to focus on the spell, Bobbi’s face twitched at Yelena and Bucky. Worse than high schoolers.

ILLYANA RASPUTIN: Drawing on Limbo, Illyana closed her eyes when she heard Nico’s staff and began chanting. Confirma. Stabiliendum. Solidatur. Est una tribus, tribus fit unum. Dormammu limbo ex angulis eminebant de profundis et frugibus suis circum nos, ut tecum una. As she repeated Wanda’s words, the red began to glow and overtake the room. It burned so brightly that it overtook the space and ate everything else out entirely.

BUCKY BARNES: With his ungloved hand, bucky cupped the side of Yelena’s face. “I know.” he heard Illyana and Nico behind him but he didn’t look. He had a gut feeling where this was going and he was just…relieved to see Yelena again. It tugged somewhere deep in his chest, making him oddly angry all over again. He was exhausted, frustrated, but relieved. “Also, please don’t ever mention Jim again.” he said on what sounded like a breathy laugh. “C’mere.” Even though they didn’t do this, Bucky pulled Yelena in close, arms wrapping around her small frame.

NICO MINORU: Confirma. Stabiliendum. Solidatur. Est una tribus, tribus fit unum. Dormanmu limbo ex angulis emine ant de profundis et frugibus suis circum nos, ut tecum una. Nico repeated alongside Magik, closing her eyes as the red glow overtook the entire room. Based on that, she hoped it was working. And she also hoped that they wouldn’t kill Ripley in the process.

YELENA BELOVA: Folding into him, Yelena stared at the two spellcasters. She hated magic. She hated how small it made her feel. She didn’t like Ripley either, but they all deserved better than this. “He was a victim too, at first.” The light was too bright then and Yelena had no choice but to avert her eyes.

RIPLEY RYAN: Every memory. Every life. Every backstory. The Town Database was comprehensive and the woman whose energy fueled it remembered every detail. For the first time since they had managed to restrain her, the stirrings of magic gave way to an elevated form of consciousness. Eyes and mouth open, red poured from them until reality was rattled by a burst of energy. Across the town, those left reverted to how they had looked before being changed. Faces returned and scarlet gave way to familiar bodies and clothes. When the wave washed over the hospital, it faded to reveal a blonde in a hospital gown standing in front of the mangled computer system. “I’m going to kill someone.”

LAURA KINNEY: The fight with Bullseye had ended, but Laura followed the scent of blood towards where the Black Widow and Taskmaster had fought. Natasha was fine, her adversary fleeing towards Zemo and the Town hall. When the redhead said she would follow him, Laura had left her to get to the ICU. Without her claws the fight had been a little different than she preferred, but not all of the blood on her was her own. By the time she got there, the room was awash in red. The force of the energy impact threw Laura against the wall, but when she straightened and came to, her cheerleading uniform was gone. The yellow and blue of her Wolverine suit had returned and when she flexed her hands she felt the adamantium.

BOBBI MORSE: Ripley looked mad, but Bobbi couldn’t blame her. She had every right to be. “That’s valid.” She limbed to her feet. “But can we raincheck? Your Stone -- it fractured. From what was being done. We got you a piece on it, but Zemo has a shard at Town Hall. Do I need to tell you how badly this could go?”

RIPLEY RYAN: Of course she didn’t need to. Ripley could feel Pleasant Hill destabilizing and reality growing thin. It Zemo accomplished his goals, he’d be taking her down. It was hard to live with a stone in your chest. it would be impossible to be fragmented. Even then, she could feel the other part calling out. Raising a hand, Ripley looked at the group. TOWN HALL. With that, the hospital was empty as they vanished in a flash of crimson.

#momevents #event: pleasant hill #pleasant hill: finale #chatlog: pleasant hill hospital

[the-odd-job]

Up in Flames chapter 16 - Villain (Ashes Part 2)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Optimus Prime, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide Additional Tags: Dubcon, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 4105

( Previous )

His battle protocols had had the time to activate, and as always when he went under with them running, coming back up wasn’t a slow, peaceful climb into consciousness.

It was a violent whiplash that had every system roaring to life simultaneously, no time wasted on testing if everything even still worked.

Sunstreaker’s optics snapped open to the bright orange ceiling of the Ark, and he shot to sitting immediately after, his frame primed for a fight and very eager to remind him of the circumstances of how he’d lost consciousness.

As it was though, there was no immediate threat around him that he could see. He was… In the brig, the glowing energy bars of that particular cell trapping him inside.

That wasn’t too much of a surprise considering how he’d gotten snatched. The Autobots had rightly assumed that he would not have gone willingly if they’d just asked nicely. 

They had also assumed rightly that he wouldn’t hang around if given the option to leave. That option clearly wasn’t given to him now. For whatever reason—and it could be no reason that would end well for him—they wanted him here, and were ready enough to force the matter by locking him up entirely. 

This couldn’t be good, not for him, and… Not for the sparklet. Maybe especially not for the sparklet. Sunstreaker couldn’t stamp down on his anxiety before the little one had already responded, vibrating in his chamber, next to his own spark, in a way it hadn’t before. These weren’t good emotions, like were really all of the ones it had gotten to experience so far.

Figures it would be the Autobots to provide it with its first negative impressions of life. 

Had his spark felt any calmer, he could have tried to calm it, but pits, he wasn’t exactly calm himself. There was anxiety, some poorly articulated fear, but more than anything, there was his ever familiar anger. This sparkling was no stranger to that after every time Megatron had annoyed him, sometimes some of the other ‘Cons, but this time there was no… Thrill to go with it. No enjoyment under it, like he would have enjoyed Megatron’s attention even if the mech was driving him nuts.

None of the enjoyment of delivering some hurt to whichever ‘Con was aggravating at the time, usually in the training ring.

This was just anger, and fear, and anxiety—and, maybe, helplessness.

How helpless was he, really? A quick scan of his systems at least confirmed they’d locked his subspace, and pits, done who knows what to him while he was under. Sunstreaker quickly pulled up his logs, rubbing at his chest as he did. It wasn’t altogether comfortable to feel the sparkling twist and turn, nervous itself, even if it didn’t really understand what the threat was.

The plating of his chassis wasn’t smooth under his servo, not with the gash Megatron had dug across his insignia. His servo caught on the rough edges of it and made it impossible to forget how much he wasn’t an Autobot anymore. These weren’t friendly hands that had captured him.

And that was what they’d done. Captured him. Kidnapped, really. 

They’d rooted around his systems, too. His physical readings had been looked at, armor shifted around presumably to have a look underneath—his coding hadn’t been tampered with, no fixes had been attempted, but he had more recent logs of diagnostic runs, and traces of the opening of several bits of programming. Not for edits, clearly, but for viewing.

Quite many of those related to the carrier protocols Hook and Ratchet had already looked at. Many other readings that had been viewed belong to the systems keeping tabs on the sparkling.

A medic’s signature had been left behind, too. Sunstreaker feared the worst when he looked at who had rooted around his frame while he was unconscious, but… It wasn’t Ratchet.

First Aid.

Sunstreaker growled to himself. He didn’t know why Ratchet wasn’t the one to have examined him, but some part of him was relieved he hadn’t… Really, breached their trust like that. Maybe he shouldn’t trust Ratchet anymore, but slaggit, he did anyway, at least to an extent. They didn’t belong to the same side anymore, but Ratchet had ethics and a personal code he followed. 

They didn’t belong to the same side anymore. Had they and Sunstreaker would have only considered it natural he’d have taken a look at his systems. That was what medics did.

But now, that consent didn’t exist. Were they enemies? He wasn’t a Decepticon either, so maybe not.

But they were not comrades, or allies. 

First Aid, clearly, hadn’t cared about details like that, although Sunstreaker wondered under whose bidding he’d performed the rather thorough examination on. 

He wasn’t distracted enough by his internal investigation to miss the sound of someone moving to the outside of his cell, and he definitely didn’t miss the shadow cast they cast with the corridor lights behind them. 

Sunstreaker lifted his gaze, glaring even before his optics landed on… Ironhide. The twin threw his legs off the side of the small slab of a berth just as Ironhide brought one servo to the side of his helm. “He’s up.”

Oh, they were waiting on him, were they?

Ironhide’s servo dropped, and so did his optics—landing on Sunstreaker’s servo on his chassis, still trying to ease the physical sensation of the sparkling’s growing distress as his mood only soured further instead of providing relief to the little thing.

Somehow Sunstreaker really didn’t appreciate the scrutiny, and let his arm slip away, doubling his glare. Ironhide didn’t look away right away, though, instead frowning at his chassis—and the insignia he still wore, but only to show he no longer belonged to that side.

“The slag you looking at?” Sunstreaker snapped once he got tired of the staring. Ironhide jerked from whatever trance he’d fallen into and looked up at him, in the optic for a fragging change. He opened his mouth to say something, too, but before he could, there was commotion from outside the main doors to the brig. Even Sunstreaker could hear it.

It wasn’t quite yelling, but it was clear enough there was an argument. He couldn’t make out all of the words, really, none of them—except some of those spoken by a voice that he couldn’t mistake.

Ratchet. The medic was rather vocal right then, as he always was when he was angry. Was he angry now? Sounded like so. Sunstreaker tuned his audials to listen in, but he could still only catch snippets. “–The stress you’re putting him under–!

“No!

“This is insanity–!

“I’m the physician–!

“Slag no!

“–let me–!”

“–Do not have my support!”

Then it ended. Sunstreaker could imagine Ratchet’s angry march as he left. He could definitely hear the stomping that always accompanied that.

The doors to the brig opened after. It wasn’t as if Sunstreaker could see who it was from where he was, but he didn’t need to guess for long because his visitors made their way straight to him.

Ratchet wasn’t among them, of course he wasn’t. Ironhide nodded at the arrivals—at Optimus, at Prowl, at Jazz.

High command then, basically. Sunstreaker got to his pedes, not particularly feeling like being shorter than everyone else. Upright and the only one who still managed to tower over him was the goddamn Prime. “Should I feel honored little old me is getting so important visitors?” he asked oh so sincerely, crossing his arms over his chassis and glaring some more.

But not before he was sure everyone had gotten a real good look at his chassis, his ruined insignia. Yeah yeah, ogle away, what did he care! What the slag were they expecting? That he would’ve no longer had an insignia at all? That he’d have a Decepticon one instead?

Honestly, both were probably fair assumptions, just not very… Megatron.  

And still, despite the fucking fact he hadn’t been an Autobot for quite a few months, still, fragging still both Prowl and Ironhide saw fit to give him a disapproving look. For what? His slagging disrespect? Cry him a river, they all had it coming after this. Sunstreaker revved his engine, angrier by the second—and the sparkling growing ever more restless, until his core was really starting to feel too small for the both of them and he had to fight the urge to go back to rubbing his chestplates, despite the fact that did absolutely no good. 

“I know these circumstances are less than ideal–” Optimus started, ever the diplomat, but Sunstreaker cut him off without fanfare or mercy.

“‘Less than ideal’? You fucking kidnap me and lock me in the goddamn brig,” he hissed, stepping up to the bars and craning his neck back to glare the Prime in the optic. “So would you fucking tell me what the frag is my crime this time?”

“Disregarding all of the events prior to your… Defection,” Prowl said, smooth and cool as ever. Sunstreaker transferred his glare at him, but then Jazz picked up where the SIC left off and that was yet another mech that deserved to be the recipient of his attempt at dropping them dead with his optics alone.

“There’s no crime, Sunstreaker,” was what Jazz had to say, but then he didn’t continue because Optimus spoke up again, and could they just fucking decide who was going to speak instead of transferring the script from one mech to another?

And what did Optimus say? “This is for your own good.”

Red. That was what Sunstreaker saw, besides the shadow creatures blotting out the edges of his vision. He laughed, although there wasn’t much humor behind the sound. “I knew it,” Sunstreaker said, his voice barely more than a guttural growl—words hardly there with the fucking anger that was really starting to get the better of him, and he was quickly losing the will to even try to fight it.

The sparkling flared, hard, and this time Sunstreaker uncrossed his arms to rub at his chest before he could think better of it. He continued all the same, “Optimus Prime, ever the altruist. So what the pit did I need saving from this time?” He was pretty damn sure he fucking knew already, but fragging Prime could spell it out for himself.

“We had reason to think your allegiance to Megatron is forced,” Prowl said, simply enough.

“And why’s that?” Sunstreaker growled, one unpleasant option quickly coming to the forefront. “Did Ratchet talk?”

“No,” Optimus said with feeling, as if he fragging cared how Sunstreaker felt about Ratchet, “Ratchet respected patient confidentiality. If he hadn’t…”

“You already know our concerns are valid, don’t you?” Prowl asked.

Sunstreaker stayed silent, only meeting the tactician’s optics without a waver. So, this was how it was always going to go, no matter what Ratchet had done? He didn’t talk, and they wanted to find out the answers for themselves.

He talked, and they’d have still done something, because their goddamn ‘concerns’ would have gotten validated by Ratchet’s findings.

“First Aid saw your protocols are active,” Optimus said, inclining his helm. There was worry—probably genuine—in his optics when Sunstreaker looked back at him.

“That don’t access my emotional cortex,” Sunstreaker snapped before Optimus could say any more. “I fragging know already.”

He also knew that wasn’t the issue. 

“But they do make you predisposed to the sire,” Prowl confirmed as much. “Even without response from your emotional cortex, that is worrisome.”

Deep breaths. He wanted to fragging explode on the spot like a goddamn star going supernova, but… Oh, what the fuck was he expecting? That they’d listen to anything he’d say at this point?

What good would talking be? “Why didn’t Ratchet examine me?” he ground out anyway, because that was a point of real curiosity.

“Ratch refused,” Jazz responded. “He wanted nothing to do with this.”

Well, at least someone was doing the right thing. One fragging decent Autobot on the whole goddamn planet.

Optimus cleared his vocalizer, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. Sunstreaker cut him off again, though, right as the Prime was about to speak. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve said, several times, that I want to stay with the Decepticons?” he snarled, as much as he already knew the answer.

“We can’t be certain how much your protocols are affecting you,” Optimus said anyway. “I fear it is not truly your choice, but rather forced upon you by your coding—and by Megatron himself.”

“This is not my choice,” Sunstreaker hissed, leaning close enough to the bars that he could feel their heat on his faceplates, “being here. My choice is being with the Decepticons.”

“And Megatron plays no role in that?” Prowl asked, disbelieving.

“Our desires align.” They wouldn’t believe that though, would they?

“Could be that’s just the carrier coding talking,” Jazz pointed out.

Yeah, see, they didn’t believe slag.  

“I find it hard to believe you would stay truly voluntarily, were you unaffected by your coding,” Optimus rumbled. Something about his tone had Sunstreaker focusing on him and frowning a little harder.

The Prime hesitated for a moment before he apparently chose to just bite the bullet and get on with it. “First Aid found many old injuries on your frame.”

And when you read between the lines?

Sunstreaker covered his face with his servos and fought the impulse to scream into them. The urge to not keep it together was real.

“I’ve sparred with the lot of them,” he said, firmly, once he dropped his servos again to give his continued glare an unhindered path. “That racks up some injuries.”

“And none of them are from Megatron?” Prowl again, ever the skeptic.

Sunstreaker growled. “I’ve sparred with him too, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It wasn’t what he was asking and they all knew it. Things lapsed into silence for a moment, apparently none of them really comfortable with the topic. Well, Sunstreaker wasn’t going to try to make it any easier for them. 

Fuck them all.

Prowl’s wings flicked, but he was eventually the one to continue. “That he abuses you is not a mere supposition.” The SIC was too good to let his voice lose its calm, but his doorwings still gave him off with the way they shivered. He did not want to be talking about this.

Looked like Sunstreaker was the only one who didn’t really care. “He took off your valve cover,” Prowl managed to force out anyway. And there it was. Their basis for assuming Megatron got a bit rough with him, which wasn’t a lie to begin with.

They just didn’t get it. “It’s called foreplay,” Sunstreaker kindly informed them, leaning back to cross his arms again. “You should try it sometime.”

“Sunstreaker,” Optimus said, and the twin reluctantly looked up at him. What now?

Nothing good, that’s what. “You don’t have to live under Megatron’s abuse. You don’t need to put up with it. You have other options.”

It sounded like he so very genuinely meant that.

“Like what?” Sunstreaker snapped. “Crawl back to the Autobots and beg for forgiveness? I wouldn’t fragging do that even if he was ‘abusing’ me—which he isn’t.”

“Kid, I know you’ve got your pride, but there ain’t anything shameful in admittin’ you’re sometimes in over yer head,” Ironhide said where he’d been quiet this whole duration. 

That anger? It was quickly rising the same way it did when Megatron disregarded what he said because his his his sparkling, yada yada yada, and they went in circles around that topic until Sunstreaker caved—but this was worse. This wasn’t Megatron acknowledging that he wanted something different, and then overruling that want anyway.

This was the Autobots deciding he didn’t know what the frag he was talking about, that he was lying, that he didn’t know what he wanted– “Are any of you actually listening to me?” Sunstreaker demanded, passing his glare between all four of them, “Because it’s getting really fucking tiresome to get treated like my words don’t mean shit.”  

“The matter of your protocols remains,” Prowl said. He said something more too, but Sunstreaker couldn’t hear it over the noise that fragging roared up in his audials at just that bit. He stumbled back a step, pressed a servo to his helm—blasted hot air from his vents as the shadow folk crept further into his field of vision. And touched him. He could’ve sworn they were there–

But then, as he cycled several ventilations and fought to maintain his control of himself, they receded, disappearing back into the ether they came from. He would’ve said they were gone, but no, they never really were.

Just less numerous, usually.

He ignored the traces of phantom pings on his sensors and lifted his gaze back up to see all four Autobots staring at him. Sunstreaker scowled.

“Your glitch’s worsened too, about since you started your tryst with ol’ Megs,” Jazz pointed out. “That don’t mean anything?”

It meant he had started to reconsider his stance regarding his glitch. Did he want to say that much, though? Talk about how drastically Megatron’s opinion of it differed from the Autobot sentiments? “Yeah, well, trying to keep that whole thing from becoming public knowledge was a bit stressful.”

With how little anyone was listening to him, he didn’t particularly feel like having his explanation regarding his glitch get ignored like everything else he said was getting ignored. Plus he’d probably just get preached at about the dangers of his glitch and how irresponsible it would be to let it out of control and whatever the frag else the Autobots were always so fragging eager to fill his audials with. 

It was as if the Autobots wanted him to be ashamed of himself—of what he was.

He was a little slagging tired of that by now.

“What prompted you to fight Megatron during that one of your encounters?” Optimus asked. Right, how could he forget. The one encounter and the one fight the Autobots could genuinely claim to know of. Did they also know that was the time when he’d told Megatron about the sparkling and promptly gotten into an argument with him?

Getting into arguments with the mech was really the norm. Glitching while at it? Not that far out either. “He was annoying,” Sunstreaker gave his honest to Primus answer. And obviously, Megatron had needed to pay for that, and what better way than to go berserk and bring some unholy smiting into the game through his glitch? Sounded like a good way to him.

“You decided to fight Megatron, because he was annoyin’?” Ironhide asked incredulously. 

Sunstreaker gave him a patronizing look. “Now, ‘Hide, you know me better than that. What other fragging reason have I ever needed to fight someone?”

“You had to know you couldn’ win,” Jazz said, like what wasn’t obvious to the whole world.

“Hasn’t really stopped me before, either.” Any more useless statements?

“You didn’t fight him because he was trying to interface with you?” Optimus asked. A slightly less dumb thing to say, considering it was Megatron.

But, “No, I didn’t fight him because he was trying to ‘face me,” Sunstreaker answered in the most mocking tone he could manage. Never let it be forgotten he was here not out of his own free will, but because some ass eaters had decided to snatch him right up and lock him up for good measure. If there weren’t bars between him and them, between him and freedom, he would’ve been gone a long time ago. 

They really couldn’t expect his cooperation, considering the circumstances.

“Did he ignite you on purpose?” Prowl took the turn to ask. The tactician had probably been hard at work considering all of the possible ways things had gone and would go. How lovely it had to be to get some answers to things the Autobots really had had no way of knowing.

Why was he over here telling them this slag though? It was none of their fragging business.

“No. He was as surprised as I was,” Sunstreaker responded anyway. No doubt it wouldn’t make them vilify Megatron any less, but at least they’d know the slagging truth.

If they believed it, anyway. There were good chances they’d just think he didn’t know as well as he thought he did.

But they hadn’t been there to see Megatron’s surprise upon first hearing about it, and everything that had come after that really didn’t sit in line with the theory the tyrant had planned it all along. 

“And you didn’t get ignited on purpose?” Prowl asked next. Sunstreaker rolled his optics as fucking hard as he could manage. 

“No. What would I have even gained by doing that? My life’s a mess because of this whole goddamn accident.” He couldn’t say it hadn’t also improved, but frag, was he somehow supposed to foresee that much? He wasn’t a clairvoyant. 

“Sunstreaker, I want you to understand you can still come back.” Optimus just loved to keep repeating that, without ever listening or accepting all of the reasons why that wasn’t true.

“No, I can’t. And more importantly, I don’t want to,” Sunstreaker said with as much emphasis as he could manage. “So if we’re done here, I’d really love to get back home already.”

Did he consider it home? He wasn’t sure yet, but the word sure had the intended effect of pulling a couple of surprised revs from his captors’ engines. Maybe it would drive the point home.

More likely they’d still go back to the carrier coding to gleefully point all the fingers at it and announce it meant Sunstreaker had no agency separate from the infernal protocols. 

“I can’t let you return,” Optimus said, and oh, he probably really thought he was doing a good thing through whatever wrong and twisted logic he was employing. “I cannot subject either you or the innocent life you’re carrying to Megatron’s evil.”

What the fuck..?

“You fragging think,” Sunstreaker started, leaning back to the bars and keeping Optimus’ stare, “that he’d let anything keep him from it?”

The Prime’s optics hardened with resolve. “I’m willing to press the issue.”

“So’s he,” Sunstreaker pointed out, “and he’s not going to just stop after it separates, either. You ought to know him. He’ll hunt the damn thing to the edges of the world if that’s what it takes. You can’t keep him from it.”

“And you’re fine with all of this?” Prowl asked while Optimus mulled over what he’d said. 

Sunstreaker shifted his gaze to the tactician and shrugged. “It was the deal we came to.”

“Deal? Did you actually have a say at any point?” Of course Jazz would quickly pick on little details like that. Sunstreaker glared at him, but unless he felt like lying, there wasn’t much he could say. He was fine with the conclusion they’d come to with Megatron, but no, he hadn’t really had any other options than to agree to what the warlord wanted.

But if he didn’t think it was an issue, it wasn’t really an issue, was it?

“The young one should have a right to its own freedom,” Optimus said now, apparently having sorted out his thoughts. “I have to protect that right.”

Ugh.

“What about my freedom while we’re at it?” Sunstreaker snarled, hitting the bars with one hand and ignoring the resulting burn. His plating was heat resistant anyway. It wouldn’t damage him severely. “That means nothing?”

“This is for your own good,” Optimus repeated, more firmly this time. “For as long as the carrier coding is active–”

“You’re letting your hatred of Megatron blind you!” Sunstreaker interrupted, hitting the bars caging him with both hands this time. “You can’t fathom that someone could be okay with him, understand him, be understood by him—all you can see is a mech you’ve made the nemesis of your world!”

All was quiet for a moment after his little outburst, four sets of optics staring at him with varying expressions. Surprise, confusion, concern… “What do you see in him, kid?” Ironhide asked, sounding a little wary—like he expected he wouldn’t like the answer very much.

“The sire of my sparkling,” Sunstreaker bit out, “who has the right to it.” As Megatron loved to remind him. Didn’t change it was true, though.

“Considering Megatron’s track record, it would be little short of unethical to let him his way with the sparkling,” Prowl said, frowning now. Right after Sunstreaker had just informed them of the obvious fact that Megatron would have it no other way.

The twin snarled at the lot of them. “Then what do you suggest?”

( Next )

#transformers #maccadam #sunstreaker #optimus prime #prowl #jazz #ironhide #fic #2021 #ashes #up in flames

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

So. An request, darling. You're new to court, and it's your first function. You hardly know anyone. You try to become part of the tapestries in the shadow, but Jaskier notices you've not danced once. He takes you under his courtly wing, a gentleman -- right up until some lord scoffs at your unpolished dancing skills, insulting you. Enter feral Jaskier, compelled to defend your honour when he sees the tears in your eyes. ❤

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,526Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: Oh boy do I love me some Feral!Jaskier. Who among us can resist a man who will go from 0 to 100 in our honor? Not I. Hope you enjoy!

As long as you stood perfectly still and didn’t draw attention to yourself, you were safe.

Your dress blended pretty well into the tapestry you crouched by, the reds not exactly the same in shade but enough to help you feel camouflaged. Couples twirled and danced in front of you and you told yourself that this was probably the best way to experience a party. You had the best view and none of the small talk. What more could someone ask for? A dance partner? You’d rather die than betray your horrible lack of experience in courtly practices before this collection of born and bred nobles. You were only there because Jaskier had insisted that he needed at least one interesting person there to talk with between performances and you’d relented. He’d been busy most of the night so far but you were fine with that. He had a way of attracting attention that you usually didn’t mind but nothing about this night was usual. Still, the music was good and the food you’d snuck off the banquet table (your first tactic before you’d found the tapestry was to keep your mouth full at all times so you didn’t have to talk to anyone) was good. As long as you stood perfectly still and didn’t draw attention to yourself, this night would pass without incident.

And then Jaskier saw you.

He’d been searching for you all night, excited to see you at the banquet helping yourself to some of the promised delicacies but you’d somehow disappeared shortly after. As he worked the crowd he could only half-enjoy the applause and praise, seeking out the person whose approval he’d come to value over all others. His eyes glanced are you and he did a doubletake, squinting to make sure that it was your face he saw barely poking out from its shadowy depths. This would never do. He finished the song and gestured for the musicians to continue performing and began to make his way over to you.

You could tell by his determined gait as he made a beeline for you that nothing good would come of whatever came next but you put on a winning smile.

“You have not danced once,” he said, hands propping on his hips as he leveled the accusation at you. Your eyes widened slightly as though you hadn’t realized this.

“Oh? I guess that’s so! Well, they do such a lovely presentation I hate to rob myself of the sight,” you say, your voice just a bit too high and a bit too cloying.

“I believe you’ll find it is even better up close,” he insists and then, oh gods, he holds out his hand. You stare at it and look for something to put in it, but coming up empty, berating yourself for finishing off the cheese cubes you’d brought over.

“Y/N,” he says pointedly.

“Jaskier,” you reply sweetly.

“You aren’t leaving this fete without a dance.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“That is entirely up to you.”

You sigh and he can see genuine distress on your face which softens him a little. Not his resolve, just his tactic.

“Allow me to take you under my courtly wing, I have more than a little experience at these events and it feels a shame not to use that knowledge to help you enjoy it. I won’t throw you in the paths of any stuffy dukes, just you and me and one dance,” he says.

“I know what you’re doing,” you say.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re charming me,” you say, poking his chest in emphasis. He recoils as though you’ve run him through with a sword.

“I am simply trying to ensure that you have a good time. If you find me charming, that’s entirely up to your interpretation,” he says. You open your mouth to respond but the song ends and Jaskier can hear them moving into the next one.

“Right! Here we go!” and he grabs your hand, pulling you onto the edge of the dancefloor, an attempt at a compromise. Once there he holds up one arm and gestures for you to raise yours as well, palms touching.

“Alright, just do everything I do,” he says, as though it’s that simple, as though you won’t need time to see what he’s doing to know how to move your limbs and oh god why does this dance require all four of them in contradictory poses and how does everyone but you seem to know how to do this so easily. You hear chuckling nearby and don’t pay it any attention at first but then you hear someone murmur something a bit more pointed and you look over to see some lord or duke or something smirking at you, whispering loudly to his companion. Your face burns hotly and you try to follow Jaskier but you’re flustered and you when you accidentally kick him in the shins you stop.

“Honestly that happens all the time,” Jaskier says, trying to hide the limp as he moves to pull you back into formation.

“I should go,” you say, working hard to keep the trembling out of your voice.

“Y/N, no, it’s really ok and nobody even cares,” he insists. You scoff and to worsen your embarrassment a tear falls down your cheek.

“Y/N, what-”

Jaskier’s words stall as he sees past you at the lord who he sees pointing and laughing at you, doing a cruel pantomime of the steps you’d been trying to complete. You look back up at Jaskier to apologize and insist you’re alright but you swallow the words in shock. Jaskier’s face darkens and his mouth curls up into a feral sneer that he levels at you – no, not at you – past you. Before you can say anything further Jaskier is brushing past you, launching himself at your tormentor like an arrow loosed from a bow, sharp and steady and deeply dangerous.

“Ah Jaskier, you performed splendidly toni-”

The man’s words are halted by Jaskier’s fist, connecting with his jaw and knocking him off balance. Before he can recover Jaskier has seized him by the collar.

“You pompous bastard,” Jaskier bites out as he backs the lord into a nearby column, oblivious and uncaring to the gasps of surprise around him, focused solely on the man in his crosshairs. The man sputters and tries to loosen Jaskier’s grip with his fingers but his attempts are fruitless. Jaskier holds him up against the column and seethes in his face, the normally charming features warped with anger.

“You miserable scrap of offal, how dare you even look at her. You don’t deserve to breathe her air and you dare to mock her? Does it make you feel bigger? Does it make you feel like a man to tear another down? Answer me you worthless degenerate,” Jaskier demands, nearly spitting in the man’s face as he shakes him slightly but his hands are too tightly wound around the collar and the man struggles to breathe much less form words. Unseen arms pull Jaskier away and the man collapses, gasping. Jaskier shrugs off the guard who’s grabbed him and levels a final look at the man on the ground.

“If you ever so much as look at her again I will garrote you with the strings of my lute and charge your widow for a replacement,” Jaskier growls. When he turns he doesn’t see or care about the party staring at him in terror, he only seeks your face.

You’d watched Jaskier’s assault torn between shock and arousal. You weren’t sure what it said about you that watching Jaskier nearly strangle a man to death made you weak but you didn’t have time to examine it because Jaskier sees you and is halfway across the floor to you in an instant. His face is still red and the veins in his neck are still bulging slightly but his eyes are soft and caring, somewhere mid-transformation between the man you knew and the man you didn’t know he could become.

“Y/N I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, taking your hands in his, “Are you alright? We can leave.”

“Well, yes, we do have to leave because I think they’re going to try and arrest you,” you say, pointing to the man who is rising back to his feet, boldened by the crowd that keeps the two of them apart. You pull Jaskier away and hurry towards the doors.

“Are you alright though?” he asks as you make your way back to town through the woods to keep your tracks hidden. You laugh.

“I am,” you say, “And you were right you know.”

He gives you a confused expression as he helps you climb over a log. You can feel your dress snag on something and rip but you don’t like this dress that much anyway.

“These parties really are more exciting than they seem,” you say. He laughs and you join him, voices mingling in the chorus of crickets until you hear hooves and shush each other, still giggling as you continue your escape through the woods, hand in hand.

#witchernonsense #jaskier x reader #jaskier imagines #reader request

[sugacouture]

Sour Patch Kids

summary: You’re living with your boyfriend, working late nights and early mornings. Driving from one side of the country to another. Sipping coca cola and eating sour patch kids on top of the van. Life is great. 

{boyfriend!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x reader 

genre: fluffy fluff fluff uwu 

word count: 1.6k

rating: pg 

warnings: a bit of cursing, mentions of running away from home (?) 

a/n: this drabble was inspired by the song Sour Patch Kids by Bryce Vine! It’s a dope song and it makes me wanna dance XD I totally recommend it.  Enjoy the fic!  

“I don't wanna think about anything at all, I just wanna run around doin what I want with a pretty ass girl and a slow jam and some Sour Patch Kids, and a Coke can” - Bryce Vine, Sour Patch Kids 

The sound of the driver’s door opening wakes you up from your nap. You slightly shift in your seat but other than that you hardly move, refusing to wake. A deep chuckle reverberates through the van and you feel a slight pressure on your nose that’s coupled with a teasing, “Boop!”

Your eyes snap open and you’re ready to fight, only to be greeted by your snickering boyfriend and his boxy smile. “Yah,” you snap, gently shoving his face away, “do you think that’s funny?”

“No, but I think you’re cute,” he quips and settles into the driver’s seat. “Have you been sleeping all day?”

You roll your eyes. “I wish,” you yawn while stretching your arms. “But my manager asked me to work extra shifts tonight so I decided to sleep while I can.”

Taehyung pouts. “So no cuddles tonight?” He whines.

Laughing, you kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Tae. I’ll be back by dawn– just in time to catch a few Z’s with you, you big baby.”

He kisses you back and the two of you sit there for a while, enjoying the other’s embrace. The position you two are in is a bit uncomfortable– the armrest is digging into your ribs and you have to strain your arms in order to hold Taehyung. But it’s worth it. During this moment, it seems like nothing matters and nothing has changed.

It was the two of you against the world.

However, after a few minutes, you look through the dashboard window and notice the setting sun. An alarm rings through your head. “Ah, dammit. What time is it?”

You take one look at the center console’s digital clock and you almost choke. “I’m gonna be late,” you hiss, wrangling yourself out of your boyfriend’s grasp.

“Baby…” Taehyung mopes, sticking his lip out.

Running your hands through his hair, you kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back so quickly, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

“I will, though,” he whines. “There’s going to be an empty space right next to me where you’re supposed to be.”

You take one look at his face and you melt, unable to resist your lover. But you know what your priorities are. The two of you had given up security and comfort to take a trip across the country together. While it did give you tremendous joy knowing that you’ll always be close to Tae, you also knew that you had to work to support your meager lives.

After graduating high school, your boyfriend had suggested that you take a leap year with him instead of immediately enrolling in college. He then proposed that the two of you take a trip across the country, coast to coast. Initially, it had seemed like a risky plan. Neither of you had any kind of insurance or large savings, only a few thousand dollars saved up from part-time jobs and most of that would contribute towards gas.

You were afraid that your boyfriend overlooked the risks. He seemed so carefree and mainly focused on the excitement and happiness that the both of you could possibly benefit from this trip.

But he looked so eager, so endearing that after giving it some thought, you had agreed to go with him. A month after graduation, the two of you hugged your parents goodbye and set out in a 1965 Volkswagen bus.

At first, adjusting to the new life was a bit difficult. Tae’s focus is fleeting, you’d soon learned, which left you to manage the expenses. You had to learn how to be frugal since the bank account was eventually going to run dry. However, Taehyung had jumped in the van one night, claiming that he’d gotten the two of you jobs at a travelling fair. “It’s perfect!” He had gushed while spinning you in his arms. “We can travel with the fair across the country. It’s what we’ve been looking for!”

The two of you worked night shifts since it paid better but were placed in different departments. You were one of the food vendors who sold cotton candy, hotdogs, sodas, etc. while Tae operated the carousels and rollercoasters. More often than not, this led to one person working longer hours than the other.

Tonight, that person was you.

“Don’t be overdramatic, baby,” you scold fondly, opening the van door. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Taehyung sniffs. “Alright, but text me when you’re finished with your shift.”

“Deal,” you smile, then walk towards the glittering lights of the fair.

–––

You’re wiping down the metal counter of the cotton candy stand when your manager approaches you. “Hey, ___.”

After brushing a stray hair from your face, you adjust your apron and shoot him a weary smile. “Hey Mr. Cho, I was about to close up but can I get you anything?”

Your manager shakes his head, chuckling. “No, I’m not in the mood for cotton candy, but thank you for offering.”

“Ah,” you mutter, looking down at your hands. You’re unsure of what to say since Mr. Cho didn’t approach you very often. He usually sat in his office, doing paperwork and whatnot. The staff barely saw him. “So, uh, if you’re not here for food, what’s up?”

“Right, uh,” your manager mumbles, looking uncomfortable. “Look, I know you worked the longer shift tonight and you’ve fulfilled all your monthly requirements…”

You nod. He’s talking about the log system which is where each worker in the food department has to work the longer shift at least four times a month. You’ve finished all of yours early so you shouldn’t have to do any more.

“...but I need you to do another one tomorrow night,” Mr. Cho continues.

You’re confused, a frown appearing on your face. “But like you said, I’ve already finished all of mine. Why do I have to do an extra?”

The older man visibly winces. “Look, I’m sorry, but we’re slightly understaffed and there aren’t enough people–”

“Why me?” You rudely interrupt. “Why not Issy, o-or Daehyun?”

“I’m sorry, ___, but you got the short end of the stick,” Mr. Cho explains apologetically. “I’ll make sure you get paid for your extra hours, I promise.”

Before you can protest, the older man walks away from you, leaving you astonished and angry. Tirely rubbing your eyes, you mutter under your breath, “I don’t get paid enough for this kind of bullshit.”

After you close up the food cart, you change in the locker room, exchanging your unflattering work clothes for a semi-decent outfit of a graphic t-shirt and ripped jeans. After shoving your boots on, you send a quick text to Tae, telling him that you’re just about to head home.

[5.02 a.m] [to: taebae 💕] j finished my shift. omw home!

You pocket your phone but it pings, indicating that he texted you back.

[5.02 a.m] [from: taebae 💕] hurry back, i have a surprise for u! <3

Smiling, you send him a heart before you put your phone in your pocket again, quickly running out of the locker room.

You find your boyfriend sitting cross legged on top of the van, staring out to the emerging dawn. After dropping your bag in the passenger seat, you climb up to join him, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“I missed you,” you whisper, afraid to break the peace of the moment.

Your boyfriend cranes his neck and kisses the top of your head. “I missed you, too,” he admits quietly. “How was work?”

You grimace. “Mr. Cho asked me to work another late shift tomorrow night. I tried to convince him otherwise but he wouldn't budge.” Taehyung lets out a small noise of acknowledgement but otherwise, he doesn’t seem upset. “You’re not mad?” You press tentatively.

He chuckles. “Why would I be?” He murmurs into your hair. “Why would I complain when you’re working so hard for the two of us?”

“I dunno,” you mutter shyly, cheeks heating up, “but this morning you were kind of upset that I had to work the later shift so I thought–”

“Shh.” Taehyung presses a finger against your lips. “Don’t stress yourself you, babe. I’m fine. It’s all good.”

You visibly relax against him. “Okay,” you whisper, gaze turned towards the sunrise.

It wasn’t quite dawn yet, but the sun was getting there. Like a timid mouse, the sun crept up the horizon, casting its shine on the roofs of buildings and tops of trees. The returning light reflected off of car windows and glass panes, giving off a calm ambiance.

Suddenly, Taehyung gently moves away. “Hold on,” he assures, jumping off the roof. You hear the van door open and a bag being opened. The door closes and your boyfriend is beside you again with a grin on his face. “Here.”

In his hands are a pack of Sour Patch Kids and two bottles of Coca Cola. You gratefully take a bottle of Coke then open it with your teeth, just how your boyfriend taught you to.

“To whatever comes next?” You suggest, holding up the soda. Taehyung smiles, his boxy grin reflecting off the glass bottle as the two sodas touch with a soft clink. The two of you take a swig and look out to the impending dawn, sated and smiling.

“To whatever comes next,” your boyfriend agrees, popping a candy into his mouth.

#btswritingcafe #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #btscreatorscorner #btspocnet #kim taehyung #bts fic #taehyung x member #taehyung fluff #fluff #bts fluff #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #bangtanfairygarden #w: sour patch kids

[splendidlyimperfect]

discord & dragons - chapter 10 [a daring rescue]

**link to ao3 is provided in the comments since tumblr has apparently been shadowbanning anything with links 🙄**

When a magical mishap transforms Natsu, Sting and Rogue, Gray finds himself responsible for a horde of dragons.

Chapter Summary: Gray gets captured by Vengeance Soul, and Freed and the dragons attempt a rescue.  

Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine, Levy McGarden/Gajeel Redfox Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Fairy Tail Dragon Slayers, Magical Accidents, Spells & Enchantments, Transformation, Dragons, Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, kind of, baby dragons are basically kittens, I make the rules here, Fluff and Humor, Cute, like super fucking cute, it’s just dumb and fluffy okay, Nonbinary Character, Freed’s enby, because i say so

-----

Freed tore through the forest, slashing away branches and leaping over logs as they moved deeper and deeper into the underbrush. Rogue and Natsu, who Freed had hastily tucked into their pockets, whined in confusion, and desperately tried to climb out. Sting squirmed in Freed’s grip, kicking at their arms and making soft, distressed sounds that increased in volume the further they got from Gray.

“It’s not safe,” Freed panted, keeping an eye on Laxus, who had barely figured out flying and was hovering awkwardly just ahead. Freed ducked around a large tree as they held Sting tighter against themself, heart pounding as they listened for sounds of being followed.

Laxus moved further away, then turned back to Freed and made a soft trilling sound. Freed could feel a slight tug in their stomach – the same feeling they got when Laxus asked them to trust him in battle. They nodded, kicking several dead branches out of the way as they followed him.

[link to chapter on ao3 in the comments]

Eventually the undergrowth opened into a small clearing, walled in on three sides by high stone walls. Freed exhaled in relief. Holding Sting under one arm, they held their hand out and quickly scribbled some runes into the air, pulling up a barrier that kept them both enclosed and invisible.

“Thank you,” Freed murmured as Laxus fluttered awkwardly down onto their shoulder, rubbing his face against their cheek and making a comforting sound. Sting squirmed out of Freed’s grip and immediately ran for the wall, pawing at it and making distressed sounds. Natsu and Rogue quickly joined him, whining and digging at the ground, then turning back around to look at Freed accusingly.

“I’m sorry,” Freed said, dropping down and leaning back against the stone wall. They ran their hands over their face, trying to catch their breath as their heart pounded in their chest. Sting scampered back over to them and hopped into their lap, standing on his hind legs and pressing his paws to their chest. “I’m sorry,” Freed said again, stroking Sting’s head as he chittered frantically. “We have to—I had to keep you safe. We’re going to rescue him, I promise.”

Natsu growled, headbutting the rune wall and scrabbling at it with his claws. He stood on his back feet, pressing both paws against the wall and staring out into the trees as if it would magically summon Gray.

“It’s okay,” Freed said as their breathing started to return to normal. Laxus made a comforting sound and cuddled closer to them, and Freed reached up to pet him as they continued to run their fingers comfortingly through Sting’s fur. “We can find him,” Freed reassured the dragons, reaching out and beckoning for the other two. Rogue slunk over reluctantly, but Natsu remained at the barrier, making soft whining sounds and pawing at it.

Freed unbuttoned their jacket and dug around in the inside pockets, eventually pulling out their communication lacrima and wiping the screen clean. They swiped their thumb across it to power it up, sighing in relief when they saw that it was still connected.

“Freed?” Levy’s voice came through, muddled by static but clearly there. “Are you all right?”

“Gray’s in trouble,” Freed said, tipping their head back against the wall. “We need to find him. Warren – his magic radar – does it still work? Can he find someone this far away?”

“It should work.” Freed winced at the way the sound warbled, and they were barely able to make out her next words. “I’ll---him, bu--take some t---call you back?”

“Yes,” Freed said, sighing and sending out a desperate plea to the universe. “Yes, I’ll wait for your call.”

~

The sound of people arguing dragged Gray from unconsciousness. He blinked slowly awake, wincing at the throbbing in his temples.

“We need to do it soon,” a voice said. It echoed, as if coming from far away, and Gray shook his head to try and clear his blurry vision and figure out where he was. The ground underneath him was jagged and uncomfortable, and when he pushed himself up, he felt cool rock beneath his fingertips. Gray stumbled to his feet, swaying and steadying himself against the wall. A faint green light shimmered nearby, and it took him a second to realize that it was some sort of moss, bioluminescent and lending a faint green light to the darkness of the room.

“He’ll wake up soon,” another voice said. It was deep and lightly accented, and Gray immediately recognized it as the man who had hunted them down last month – Siedge. A chill ran through Gray and he rubbed at the scar on his wrist.

The first voice sounded closer as it replied, “He should be out for a few more hours – the sleep magic is strong.”

“He’s stronger.”

The voices were now joined by footsteps and the sound of something jingling. Gray’s vision slowly adjusted to the dim light of the room, and he could just make out the shape of a door across from him. He stumbled over and pressed himself to the wall behind it, taking slow, even breaths and trying to push away the nausea that blurred his vision.

“Just bring him to the room,” Siedge said, and then there was the sound of keys in a lock as the door started to swing open. Gray curled his hands into fists, ready to summon his magic, and he was so surprised when it didn’t respond that he was taken aback by someone reaching out and grabbing his arm.

“Lemme… stop it,” he mumbled, bringing his hands up and scrabbling weakly at the person’s grip. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and the place inside him where his magic usually lived was like a void.

“Come with me,” the person said, dragging Gray forward and into the hallway. They were tall and beautiful in a cold, frightening way, and the Vengeance Soul guild mark took up half of their face.

“Where…” Gray tripped over his own feet, nearly falling into the mage.

“I told you.” Siedge’s deep voice was accompanied by a large, terrifyingly familiar man with long blond hair pulled into a braid. He grinned at Gray, showing off sharp teeth. “He’s strong.” He grabbed Gray’s chin, tipping his head up. Gray growled weakly and tried to struggle against the grip, but everything in his body felt like it was being pulled down into the earth.

“Fuck you,” he spat. “You almost killed Sting.”

Siedge laughed. “You escaped me last time, I have to give you credit for that,” he said, letting go of Gray and reaching up to touch the scar on his own neck from Natsu’s flames. “But you don’t have your dragon slayers to save you this time. They’re not quite as ferocious now, are they?” Gray glared at him. “I’ll admit, when Laka here suggested the spell, I didn’t think much of it, but it’s been surprisingly effective. And in your haste to discover its origin, you walked right into my trap.”

Laka tugged Gray backward by his arm and he stumbled after them, nearly tripping and falling to his knees. Whatever they’d used to put him to sleep still made everything hazy – and apparently blocked his access to his magic. The empty feeling in his chest expanded as he tried to awaken it again.

“Don’t bother,” Laka said, shaking their head. “Nobody can lift those runes except me.”

Gray frowned, then looked down at his chest. A mark was etched just over his heart – an unfamiliar rune that looked like it had been burned into his skin. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the magic emanating from it.

The haze and confusion slowly receded as they made their way down a long, dark hallway – Laka in front, pulling Gray along by his bicep, and Siedge following behind. By the time they arrived at their destination, Gray’s head felt clearer and he was strong enough to walk without stumbling.

“Get him set up,” Siedge said, pointing to a chair in the center of the room. Magic bonding runes glowed around the arms and legs and Gray’s heart jumped as Laka shoved him toward it. He pulled weakly away from them, but the little strength that had returned to him wasn’t enough to break their grip on his arm.

“Why?” he asked as Laka shoved him down into the chair. “This is stupid. You can’t just take someone else’s magic.”

“Actually,” Siedge said, moving away from the chair and picking up a book from the desk along one wall, “I can.” The cover of the book shimmered faintly, and it took Gray a minute to realize that it was patterned exactly like the devil slayer marks. The faint hum of fear that had been coursing through him since he woke up solidified and he tugged harder against the restraints.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded, swallowing against the nausea that was starting to rise in his throat. The pattern on the book shifted in a sharp, uncomfortable way that made Gray’s vision blur. It was wrong – deeply, horribly wrong – and he couldn’t breathe.

“Irrelevant,” Siedge said, flipping the book open. A sharp flash of pain spiked through Gray’s temples and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. The ache quickly spread, racing down his nerves until the marks on his arms felt like they were on fire. It hurt worse than any burn Natsu had accidentally given him – the searing pain was bone-deep, eating him up from the inside, clawing its way out of him and taking the magic with it.

“S-stop,” he managed, shuddering and trying desperately to slip his wrists free of the bindings. He couldn’t feel his hands. Someone was talking, and then something touched Gray’s forehead, and he was sure he was going to die, and then—

—then the pain stopped abruptly as something exploded.

Gray gasped as the devil-slaying magic returned to him, searing across his skin and slamming into his chest so hard that he could barely breathe. Siedge stumbled forward, cursing and dropping the book face-down on the stone floor.

“Gray!” Freed’s voice quickly followed the explosion, and Gray looked up to see them standing in the ruins of the wall with runes sketched in the air around them. Their right eye glowed purple, swirling with magic that made Gray’s markings pulse and ache.

“Freed, don’t—”

“I thought you said your barriers were impenetrable!” Siedge growled, whirling around to look at Laka. They were staring at Freed, who glared right back, rapier moving quickly in front of them to create more runes in the air.

“They should be,” Laka said, stepping forward and waving their hand in an attempt to dismiss Freed’s magic. Nothing happened, and before Laka could write any more runes, a burst of lighting sparked through the air and singed off a lock of their hair.

“What the—”

A flash of gold was the only thing Gray saw before Laka shouted in pain and started flailing, trying desperately to remove an angry Laxus, who was clinging to their arm and had his teeth sunk into their neck. Siedge moved to help Laka but was quickly stopped by a burst of fire that raced across the ground and hit him in the shins.

“Natsu,” Gray gasped as the tiny red dragon appeared between Freed’s legs, snarling at Siedge before darting across the floor. He scrambled up onto Gray’s lap and immediately started chittering as he pawed at the magic restraints. “Get out of here,” Gray hissed, tugging at the bonds again. “You’re gonna get hurt.” Natsu growled in disagreement and bit at the magic, hissing when it started to spark.

The ache from earlier still tingled under Gray’s skin, but it was quickly being overwhelmed by a protective fear for the dragons. He could see the other two out of the corner of his eye – a dart of black and a flash of white that came at Siedge from both sides.

“He’s too strong,” Gray said, trying to shift his legs so Natsu would jump down. Natsu glowered at him and clung to him stubbornly, digging in his claws. “Please, I can’t watch any of you get hurt again.”

A cry of pain filled the room as Laka fell to their knees, bleeding heavily from their neck. Laxus scrambled backward, spreading his wings and growling at them as electricity crackled around him. Siedge moved toward him but was blocked by a blast of magic that swirled together in black and white, hitting him in the chest hard enough to knock him onto his back. As soon as he hit the ground, Freed was standing over him, rapier pointed at his throat.

“Don’t,” Freed said as the tip of the sword moved quickly, creating a rune that hung over Siedge’s chest. He snarled at Freed, struggling against the magic that appeared to have paralyzed him. Sting and Rogue, who had been sitting near the door, scampered over to Siedge and growled at him, both of them humming with magic power.

“Are you all right?” Freed asked, glancing over at Gray as Sting clambered onto Siedge’s chest and bared his teeth. Laxus growled at Laka, who was still holding their wounded neck and glaring at Freed.

“Fine,” Gray said, exhaling in relief. “Just...” He nodded down at the bonds around his wrists that Natsu was still attempting to chew through. Freed made a quick gesture and the bindings dissolved, immediately lifting the pressure on Gray’s wrists and ankles. Another flick of Freed’s wrist dismissed the rune on Gray’s chest, and he exhaled in relief as the familiar cool sensation of his ice magic tingled across his skin.

“Thanks.” Natsu made a soft chirping sound and scrambled up onto Gray’s shoulder, rubbing his face against Gray’s cheek and purring happily. “I’m okay,” Gray murmured, kissing the top of Natsu’s head and pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. Frost covered up the devil slayer marks that quickly started to spread across his body, reacting to the heady demonic magic that emanated from Freed.

“You have to stop.” He squeezed his hands into fists as the magic tried to pull him forward, whispering, destroy it, destroy them, destroy the demon. “I can’t control it,” he gasped, trying to step away. Natsu made a concerned sound and nipped at his ear, and Gray tried to focus on that instead of the angry insistence of his magic.

Then Freed’s magic shifted, and their eye returned to its natural blue. The tense pulse of the magic in Gray’s arms quickly disappeared, and he fell to his knees, suddenly exhausted.

“Don’t even think about it,” Freed said, turning their gaze to Laka, who had lifted their hand into the air. Laxus snarled at them and darted forward, teeth bared and ready to pounce. Freed gave Laka one more disdainful look, then drew a quick rune and flicked it toward them. They fell unconscious almost instantly, slumping backward onto the floor. Siedge followed quickly afterward. Sting, who was still sitting on his chest, growled at him once last time, then looked over at Gray.

“C’mere,” Gray said, holding out his arms. Sting immediately darted over, followed closely by Rogue, and they stood on their hind legs, pressing their paws against his chest. Their distressed sounds quickly turned to affectionate purrs as Gray petted them. “I’m okay,” he reassured them, feeling the warm, familiar sense of calm flood through him at their presence. “It’s okay.”

Sting whined and wriggled up onto Gray’s other shoulder, anxiously nuzzling his hair, while Rogue clambered into Gray’s arms and continued purring so hard he was nearly vibrating. Gray sighed in relief, holding the three of them close.

“Thank you,” he said again to Freed, who was holding a smug-looking Laxus, still crackling with electricity. “He was—they were after the magic. Again.” Gray gestured to the book, which was still face-down on the ground where Siedge had dropped it. Looking at the marks on it made Gray feel nauseous again and he quickly looked away.

“I’ll take that,” Freed said. They leaned down and grabbed the book, studying it for a moment before sliding it into their jacket. “I’ll call the Council,” they said, pulling the lacrima out of their pocket. “It’s time to put these two away where they belong.”

#fairy tail #grastustingue #fraxus #ot4 #discord&dragons #baby dragons au #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #freed justine #laxus dreyar #update #new chapter #my fic

[misskikuwrites]

Pretty in Pink (1/3)

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

-

A shift of pink out of the corner of Bede's eyes made him glance towards the entrance of the Glimwood Tangle. A vivid pink that he was sure hadn't been there a moment ago. The second he looked, however, there was no one there.

Certainly not the Champion who wears that very same pink.

Bede shook his head and continued on his way to the Gym. Somehow, even here in Ballonlea, the Champion managed to worm her way into his life. Into his thoughts.

It was worse now that Bede had recognised his feelings towards Gloria. After those feelings and the realisation of what they were had hit him like a Double Edge from a Dubwool he'd been seeing her everywhere.

Posters of the new Champion that he would've usually ignored on the walls of Pokemon Centres now stood out to him like white against black. Champion merchandise popped up everywhere. The cry of a Corviknight that turned out to be a simple sky taxi always made him look twice.

And that pink. He could no longer see that colour without thinking of her, without his head turning instinctively to see who - or sometimes what - it was.

It was driving him insane.

What made it worse was the annoying habit the Champion had of just dropping in. Randomly. Without prior warning, without giving Bede any chance to prepare his heart for the way she would smile at him, the way his name sounded on her lips.

If he hadn't considered her a friend as well as a rival, he might've found her random visits utterly reprehensible. That is, if he wasn't also maddeningly in love with her.

She was the Champion, for Arceus' sake!

She always had a legitimate reason for coming. That was why Bede made a habit of not letting it get to his head. He put up with her exhibition matches, her offers to join in the Champions cup.

Well, he made it seem as though he was merely putting up with it. With her. He wasn't about to act like a lovesick fool in front of her. Wouldn't let her know how eagerly he awaited their next match. The only one who could really challenge him.

As if that was all she was to him.

No, he would do everything in his power to hide the way his heart leapt at the sight of her. The way her smile made his stomach flutter as if he'd swallowed a hoard of Butterfree. The way she said his name, so sweet and light and full of joy to see him that it made his face burn as if he'd been struck by her Cinderace's Pyro Ball.

He couldn't let her know how he felt. Not when there was a chance she had feelings for someone else. For a childhood friend that she hugged so easily, whether it was for a greeting or a goodbye. Bede's stomach churned at the thought.

He was still wearing a scowl on his face when he entered the Gym.

-

The next day, Bede saw that pink again and couldn't stop the way his head turned to follow it.

And there she was. Heading into the Glimwood Tangle with her Cinderace by her side. Bede blinked as she disappeared into the woods, his stomach flopping uncomfortably. It really was her.

Bede almost made to follow her, one foot lifting off the ground in her direction, when he caught himself. He had Gym battles to attend to.

And she hadn't come here for him.

A strange weight settled in Bede's gut with that thought. It stayed with him the rest of the day, Bede not noticing how he battled without remorse and wiped the floor of every challenger who came by.

-

He didn't see her the next morning and so Bede decided to push the sights of Gloria out of his mind and focus.

That plan went south when he saw her that evening, heading to the Pokemon Centre as he left the Gym. Even from a distance he could see the speckling of dirt on her cheeks, the stray leaves in her long brown hair. It would be so simple to go over to her, to thumb that streak of dirt off her cheek. To card his fingers through her soft hair to pick out the leaves.

Her soft hair?

A rush of heat burst through him, shooting like a thunderbolt to the tips of his fingers. Without another thought, Bede stalked away before anyone saw him staring longing at the Champion with a scorching blush on his face.

-

The next day, Bede headed to the Gym without looking towards the Glimwood Tangle. He didn't search for that striking pink. He kept his eyes forward, kept his mind clear. He didn't have the luxury of distractions. Not when he still had to prove himself as the new Fairy type Gym Leader.

Bede had changed into his uniform, prepared to meet new or repeat challengers in the lobby, when he heard the commotion outside. People were shouting. Confused. Bede turned to the entrance, ready to stalk out there and fix whatever was causing the fuss, when a Cinderace dashed through the doors. It glanced around, ears pulled back, before it set its sights on Bede.

The Cinderace cried and bolted over to Bede, hopping anxiously on its toes. It made a series of noises that made no sense to Bede or any of the onlookers.

What did make sense, what Bede knew instantly, was that this was Gloria's Cinderace.

"Is it Gloria?" Bede asked and the Cinderace nodded frantically. His heart dropped into the pits of his stomach. "Show me!"

The Cinderace bounded through the entrance and Bede followed, calling over his shoulder, "the Gym's closed today!"

He followed the Cinderace into the Glimwood Tangle, running to keep up with the speedy Pokemon. The Cinderace cleverly kicked stones into the glowing mushrooms as they ran, illuminating their path deeper into the woods. There wasn't time for Bede to think, to process what was happening. What it meant that he was following Gloria's Cinderace. Why the Pokemon looked so distraught.

What state Gloria was in.

Bede followed the Cinderace deeper and deeper into the Tangle, climbing over fallen logs, leaping over thick roots and dodging wild Pokemon. His heart raced. Pulse rocketed. Mind whirled as he powdered ahead until the Cinderace jumped down an embankment and rounded a tree.

Gloria sat slumped on the ground, leaning against the trunk of a tree, head tipped forward.

"Gloria!"

Her head shot up at his voice. Tears glistened on her cheeks, trailing muddy lines down her face. Bede's breath left his lungs. She was worse than when he saw her yesterday. Leaves, twigs and dirt caked her hair. Grime smudged across her cheeks. Her knees scabbed and bleeding, her pink dress stained in patches.

"What happened?" Bede gaped.

"B-Bede…!" Gloria sobbed and more tears spilled from her eyes. Her chest shuddered with broken gasps as she tried to speak.

"Hey, I'm here," Bede said, steadying his voice and kneeling next to her. "It's okay."

Now wasn't the time for him to freak out, not with her trembling like this. He took one of her shaking hands in his. Her fingers were like ice. She sniffled and nodded, chest heaving with every breath. Her bottom lip wobbled.

Bede had never seen her like this before. Terrified and broken. Falling to pieces in front of him. It shattered his heart. He held her hand tight, reached out with his other and touched her arm lightly. Gloria collapsed into him. Bede's breath was sucked from his lungs as her head dropped to his chest, her hand winding tight into his shirt. She howled. Cry breaking the silence, breaking Bede's heart and his willpower and he held her close, slipping his arm around her back.

He felt every shudder of her body. Every sob. Her Cinderace trilled sadly nearby and Bede rubbed her back slowly, gently, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He clamped his eyes shut at his own incompetence and held her close. It was all he could do.

Bede held Gloria until her wails turned to sobs and then into shaky breaths. Until her shuddering stopped and she sank limp against him. He waited until she peeled herself off his chest and sat up, her face flushed from crying, before he dropped his arm from her back.

"What happened?" Bede asked, softer this time.

Gloria sniffled and rubbed her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I… fell down there…" she pointed to a ledge not far from where she sat, the top of the mossy cliff almost two metres high. "I didn't see the drop until it was too late. Rolled down it."

Bede winced. "Do you have a first-aid kit in your bag?" He wished he'd taken more than a split second before following her Cinderace. Wished he'd thought ahead and taken something of use with him instead of just his Pokemon.

Gloria nodded and moved to shuffle the straps of her bag off her shoulders. He was still holding her hand. He released it as if she had suddenly burnt him.

"Let me," Bede said, easing Gloria's bag off her shoulders to distract himself from the heat rising on his cheeks. He placed it in front of her so she could dig out the first-aid kit, saving him from having to look through her belongings. She pulled out the small, simple red kit and handed it to Bede.

Bede opened the kit and glanced over Gloria's injuries. Her knees were raw, legs streaked in coagulated blood and dirt. She had numerous small cuts and scrapes down the bare skin of her legs, only a few of which would need a proper clean and a bandage.

"Where are you hurt? Other than the obvious." Bede pulled out a handful of tissues and her water bottle. Dampening a few tissues, he handed them to her. "Here. For your face."

"Thanks," she said quietly and began to wipe the muck from her cheeks. "I think… I might've rolled my ankle."

Bede looked to her black boots. "Which one?"

"The right."

Bede shifted her bag towards her feet. "I'm going to elevate it, alright? Then I'll need to take your boot off in order to wrap it."

He saw Gloria swallow tightly, jaw clenching. It was going to hurt. She nodded, bracing herself with a steely look in her eyes. Despite falling apart earlier, Gloria had guts. She knew what needed to be done and did it. Bede turned back to her foot, taking it gently in both hands and lifting it just enough to slide her bag underneath.

Gloria breathed a hiss of pain through her teeth.

"Sorry," Bede apologised automatically.

"N-No, it's okay." She gave him a stiff smile. "I'm the one who should be apologising, making you leave your Gym and come all the way here because of a stupid fall. I just… I didn't know who else to get, who else would recognise my Cinderace and know to follow him?"

Bede felt his cheeks warm. "It was fairly obvious your Cinderace was in distress. Anyone could see that. And it's just one day - anyone serious about the Champion's Cup will come back tomorrow."

He was comforting her. She nodded, her smile relaxing. "Thanks, Bede."

His cheeks felt unbearably warm now. He nodded, focusing intently on her now-elevated foot. "I'll need to take your boot off."

"Okay."

Slowly, carefully, Bede undid the laces of her black boot. He eased it open, glanced at Gloria. She caught his eyes and nodded. Trying as gently as he could, Bede eased the boot off her foot as Gloria bit back a grunt of pain. He then did the same with her sock, revealing an obviously swollen ankle. It was already puffing out.

Bede quickly grabbed the compress bandages from the first-aid kit and wrapped her ankle neatly.

"Where'd you learn to do that so well?" Gloria asked, blinking through tears of pain. She relaxed slightly when Bede finished with her ankle.

"All Gym leader's need to have up-to-date first-aid training."

"That's handy. Wish it was the same for the Champion. Pretty useless having a first-aid kit and not knowing what to do with it," Gloria laughed in self-deprication. "So useless I didn't even remember that I had it until you asked."

"You were in shock."

"Still. Pathetic Champion I am, breaking down over a fall like that."

Bede huffed. "You're not pathetic - you're covered in wounds! I'd be more worried if you didn't show that kind of emotion in a situation like this."

Gloria nodded slowly, dabbing absently at her cheek with the damp tissues.

"Let's get you back to Ballonlea. We'll deal with the rest of this there." Bede packed the first-aid kit into her bag and closed it, slipping it over his shoulders.

"Good idea."

"Do you think you can walk?"

"I… I'm not sure. I haven't tried."

Bede stood, brushed the dirt off his knees and offered Gloria a hand. "Let's get you on your feet first."

Gloria took his hand and with a swift tug, Bede pulled her to her feet. And almost flush against him. He tried not to stiffen, letting Gloria hold onto his hand for balance.

"Here, put your arm over my shoulder," Bede directed her, trying to ignore how tight his voice sounded. He could only hope Gloria was too preoccupied with finding her balance to notice the blush blooming across his cheekbones. She grit her teeth, rested her arm over his shoulder, and stared straight ahead. Concentrating on what was to come.

Bede curled his arm around her lower back as casually as he could.

They'd only taken a single step forward and Gloria hissed in pain, sucking in a sharp breath. Her Cinderace cried sadly.

"I'm… I'm okay. We can do this," she said through clenched teeth, jaw set tight.

"No." Bede dropped his arm from her back. He handed her bag to her Cinderace who looked on with a confused tilt of his head.

"What?"

He held onto her arm to help her balance as he knelt in front of her, his back to her. "Get on."

"What? No, Bede, you don't have to carry me! I can walk!"

"Not an option. I'm not letting you hobble all that way in pain. Now get on or I'm leaving you here."

"You wouldn't!"

Bede raised an eyebrow. "You're right, but would you rather I scoop you up in my arms or carry you on my back?"

Gloria flushed in frustration. "Fine but… are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't."

"Right…" She sounded reluctant but climbed onto Bede's back anyway, allowing him to hook his hands under her knees and stand. Gloria swayed forward with the motion, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Is that alright?" Bede asked. Gloria nodded before realising he couldn't see it.

"Yes, it's fine. Thanks." Her cheeks coloured as she glanced down at her legs. "But… um…" How could she say it?

"What?" Bede glanced over his shoulder. Her thighs were distractingly warm against his hands. He tried to frown the rising heat off his face but it was a losing battle.

The nervous lilt in her voice set Bede's blood on fire in his veins. "It's… well, it's my dress. It's kind of… riding up…"

Bede choked on a gasp. "Th-Then tug it down!" Now his face was fully aflame. All he could feel was the weight of her body against his back, his skin burning, burning, burning where they touched.

"I-I can't like this!"

"Then what do you want me to do?!" Arceus, he was burning up.

"I don't know!"

"Then why'd you tell me?!"

Gloria squawked indignantly. "B-Because I don't want anyone to see!"

"There's no one here," Bede huffed. No one here except him, though he couldn't see anything like this. Thankfully.

Bede squeezed his eyes shut. Don't think about that.

"B-But in Ballonlea…"

"We'll deal with that when we get there."

"Mm… okay…"

With a rough sigh, Bede started off towards Ballonlea, following Gloria's Cinderace as it lit the glowing mushrooms in their path.

"Tell me if it begins to hurt again and I'll put you down," Bede said.

"Okay."

Arceus, her voice was right in his ear. He focused on the path ahead of him, the trip hazard of roots and branches and loose stones. They trudged along slowly, carefully, until they reached the outskirts of the Tangle, the lights of Ballonlea in sight. Instead of taking the main path, Bede skirted the edge of the town, circling around until they could see his place. When Bede was sure there was no one else around, they emerged from the woods and walked straight to the front door.

"I'm letting you down now," Bede cautioned, slowly lowering Gloria until her feet touched the ground.

"Is this…?"

"Ms Opal's house." Bede fished out a key from his pockets and unlocked the door. "She's letting me stay until I can get my own place." He swung the door open, letting her Cinderace inside before turning back to Gloria. She balanced unsteadily on one foot.

"I can hop inside- hey!" she yelped when Bede scooped her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style with one hand around her back, the other under her thighs. "B-Bede!"

He ignored her protests and stalked inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He took a few quick steps to the couch before gently depositing her onto it. He grabbed one of the cushions and slipped it under her ankle.

"There. I wasn't going to have you hobble and whine the whole time. I'm not a sadist." He brushed the dirt from his hands that her thighs had left on him. Then he reached back and found more dirt across his back. Of course. He huffed in disgust.

"Sorry," Gloria apologised shamefully. "Your Gym uniform is all dirty because of me."

Bede tore the grimace off his face. "It's fine - it'll come off when I wash it." He felt like an idiot, fussing over some dirt on his clothes when she was caked in it head to toe, covered in bruises and scratches.

"You should take a bath," Bede offered. "It'll be the quickest way to get you clean and we can deal with the rest of your cuts after that."

"Oh, a bath sounds heavenly right now," Gloria sighed. "I think I've got a change of clothes in my bag…" Her Cinderace brought her bag over, trilling happily. She thanked it and returned it to its Pokeball before digging around in her bag. Bede left her to that as he gathered a fresh towel for her to use.

He forced down any thoughts that threatened to arise with a scowl. He brought her a towel and a washcloth, handing them over when he noticed that she didn't have her spare clothes in hand. Her face looked unusually pale.

"What is it?"

"Well… it, uh, seems that I don't actually have any spare clothes. I… must've forgotten to pack them last night."

Bede blinked at her.

"Could I borrow some of yours…?"

Bede's heart ground to a halt in his chest. "F-Fine," he said quickly, stalking to his room before his cheeks coloured a bright crimson in front of her. It just kept going from bad to worse. His composure was crumbling. Chipping away, little by little, threatening to expose his longing for her. His damn crush was getting harder to ignore when things like this kept happening.

How was he supposed to suppress and hide his feelings for her when his face was a beacon of embarrassment, burning so brightly, so easily. Right to the very tips of his ears.

He took a few deep gulps of air to calm himself and gathered a plain T-shirt and a pair of shorts that had a drawstring and would hopefully fit her. Bede ignored how his fingers tingled when they brushed hers as he handed the clothes over. He ignored the way she squawked that she could hobble to the bathroom on her own, ignored the fluttering in his chest when she disappeared into the bathroom and left him alone with his thoughts.

Bede soon wished he could shut out the sound of water running in the bath and the images it was conjuring in his mind.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it.

Bede shut himself in his room and took his time to change out of his dirtied Gym gear. He chose a pair of dark pants and a light grey long sleeved t-shirt. He rolled up the sleeves absently as he dug around in his medicine cabinet, grabbing more compression bandages, bandaids and some antiseptic with a few cotton buds. Maybe it was overkill but Bede didn't care. He needed the distraction.

He'd finished gathering the first-aid stuff and sorting it on the counter when the bathroom door opened again and Gloria hobbled out. Bede took a long moment composing himself before he looked at her.

And then quickly wished he hadn't.

The shirt was too big for her yet it looked adorable hanging off her smaller frame. The shorts hug loosely to her waist. Her cheeks were rosy from the warm bath, her damp hair tied in a loose bun atop her head.

She was too cute.

"Sit down," Bede ordered with an unnecessary bark in his tone.

"Roger that," Gloria replied. She was in a better mood now after her bath, her dirty clothes bundled in her arms. She hobbled over to the couch and fell onto it dramatically, hefting her swollen ankle onto a cushion.

"Give me your clothes, I'll wash them with mine." Bede held out his hand, motioning to her.

"Is that alright?" She looked up at him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "I could do it at home…"

"I'm putting mine through anyway. It's fine."

With that sorted, she handed over her clothes and he put on the washing machine before coming back with the compression bandages in hand. Somehow she'd managed to soak the bandage he'd wrapped her ankle in earlier so he applied a new one before grabbing her an ice pack.

"Thanks Bede," she said, shifting the ice pack slightly on her ankle. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

Bede didn't respond to that. No words would form and even if they did he doubted he'd be able to say them without fumbling. How did she always know exactly what to say to send his heart soaring?

"Where else are you hurt?" Bede grabbed the antiseptic cream, the bandages and a couple of bandaids.

"Mostly my legs," Gloria noted, touching the scrapes on her knees. "I think I've just got bruises on my arms."

"That makes it easy." Bede pulled a chair over to the couch and unscrewed the lid of the antiseptic cream. She didn't protest at all as he applied the cream to the numerous scrapes and cuts on her legs. She didn't even mention the fact that she could've done it herself and let him work, watching silently.

She thanked him again when he was done and he managed to mumble a thanks and something about how it was no big deal before escaping to put everything away.

"Why were you in the Glimwood Tangle anyway?" Bede asked when he returned.

"Oh, you know… Champion stuff."

Bede raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Surely you don't think I'm that gullible. If you do, then I'm sorry to say that you've got a horribly incorrect impression about me."

Gloria grumbled. "It's… a bit embarrassing, actually." She looked away for a moment before her eyes widened. "That's it! You can help me!"

Bede frowned. "Help you with what?"

What was she trying to rope him into now?

"Well…" she looked at him with an imploring smile, sounding out her words carefully. "I was wondering… can I borrow your Rapidash?"

"Why? And what does that have to do with you heading into the Tangle almost every day so far this week?"

Gloria sighed. "You saw that?"

"You're a bit hard to miss with all that pink."

"Oh."

"So, are you going to explain yourself or not?"

"Fine, fine!" she huffed. "I was looking for a Ponyta."

"... that's it?"

"Yes!" Gloria sighed again. "I was looking for a Ponyta all this week and I didnt find a single one. I'm the Champion of Galar and can't even manage that."

"Why do you want one so badly?"

"I've loved Galarian Ponyta and Rapidash ever since I was little. I didn't find one when I was doing the Champions Cup so I thought I could find myself one now. Guess it's not that easy."

"...And you thought I'd just give you mine?" Bede gave her an incredulous look.

"No, I didn't want you to give it to me. I just need to borrow it. For a while." Her smile became nervous, she glanced away from him.

"What for? Having my Rapidash with you isn't going to make finding one any easier."

"I…" Her cheeks coloured pink. "I wanted to breed it."

Bede blinked at her. Stunned. "And how were you going to do that with a single Rapidash?"

"I have a Ditto! It's just a matter of seeing if they get along and then leaving them alone for a while and…" she trailed off, her gaze leaving his again.

"You want to pimp out my Rapidash."

"D-Don't say it like that!" Gloria blushed darkly. Almost the colour of her usual dress.

The colour suited her, Bede realised. He studied her for a moment.

"You want one that badly?"

Gloria sighed. "Yes…"

Bede's heart fluttered. "If they do get along then I guess I don't mind, but that will leave me one Pokemon short for my Gym battles," he found himself saying. "I'll have to find a replacement."

"Does that mean…? You'll let me borrow your Rapidash?" Her eyes widened excitedly, making Bede's heart skip a beat.

The way she was smiling at him made it difficult to speak. "Only if they get along and only if I can get a replacement Fairy type Pokemon in the meantime."

"Then you can borrow my Mimikyu!" She clasped her hands together at the idea. "Can we try it now? See if they get along?"

Bede hadn't expected things to fall in place this quickly. "Now? Here?"

"Yeah! Unless you want to make me hobble somewhere else…?" she teased, waiting for his reply with an eager sparkle in her eyes.

Bede huffed. It was too difficult to say no to her. "Fine, fine. But this is Ms Opal's place. If they break anything…"

The warning in his voice was clear.

"Don't worry, I'll keep my Pokeball on hand and return them if it seems like it's going downhill."

She was so confident Bede found himself going along with it and pulled out his Rapidash's Pokeball as she readied her Box Link and retrieved her Ditto.

Bede sent out his Rapidash first. It stood alert and ready until it realised that it wasn't in the middle of a battle and relaxed. Gloria beamed at the Rapidash and sent out her Ditto. Without needing the command, her Ditto transformed into the nearest Pokemon, taking the form of a Rapidash. The two Fairy Pokemon looked at each other for a long, trepid moment. Gloria kept her hand tight around her Pokeball.

Bede's Rapidash approached Gloria's Ditto with slow, cautious steps. They circled each other for a moment. Studying one another. Nostrils flaring as they identified each other's scent.

The suspension was palpable. Gloria held her breath whenever the Pokemon moved, whenever they drew closer. She caught Bede's wrist when his Rapidash nuzzled its nose against her Ditto's.

Bede jolted. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist right above his hand. All he had to do was shift his hand slightly and he could curl his fingers around hers. A quick movement and he could hold her hand. His fingers twitched.

"Bede, look!" She tugged at his wrist, gaze thankfully locked on the two Pokemon so she didn't see the crimson on his cheeks. He swallowed and followed her line of sight to where the Rapidash were nuzzling against one another.

Well. That was fast.

Soon enough they returned their Rapidash into their respective Pokeballs, Gloria beaming an elated smile. It wasn't even levelled at him yet it made his heart thrum in his chest.

Arceus, she was adorable.

With her Ditto and Bede's Rapidash in hand, Gloria lent him her Mimikyu. "Oh, this is so exciting! I've never bred Pokemon before!"

"You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah, I know the people who run the Pokemon daycare in the Wild Area. They'll be the ones actually looking after the whole process. But they'll give me a call when they find an egg!"

Sounded simple enough. At least his Rapidash was going to be looked after properly.

With that softed, Gloria rang up a sky taxi, deciding it would be easier for her to rest at home and let Bede return to his Gym Leader duties.

"Make sure you come back and get your dress," Bede reminded her. "I don't want to think what will happen if Ms Opal finds it…"

Gloria chuckled. "Now, that would be interesting."

The sky taxi landed just outside Ms Opal's house, and Bede loaded her bag into it for her as she hobbled the few steps over from the door.

"Thank you, Bede. For everything," she said, lingering by the door of the sky taxi. "I owe you one. Well, more than one."

Bede found it difficult to hold her gaze. "Yeah, you do."

Gloria laughed and Bede's heart sang. She leaned forward so quickly he didn't have time to react or even process what she was doing when she planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks," she said again, quieter this time, and climbed into the taxi. It had taken off, disappearing as a speck in the distance, when Bede realised what on earth had just happened. His face flushed a dark crimson. Blood surging to his head.

She'd kissed his cheek.

Gloria had kissed him.

A strangled noise escaped Bede's throat as he stormed inside, covering his burning cheeks with his hands despite there being no one around to see.

Arceus.

Oh, Arceus.

She was going to be the death of him.

#bede #bederia #gloria #dressedinpinkshipping #pokemon swsh #pokemon

[supernova-writes]

The Lost Princess (Resistance!Ben x reader) - Chapter 1

Summary: Ten years ago, you were able to escape the First Order’s infiltration of your home planet of Hathov, yet it didn’t stop them for trying to find you. When the Resistance got their hands on the next map piece that they were slowly putting together, it led them to you. You’re cold. Ben is cocky. It’s not a good mix. But there might be more than meets the eye about the two of you. 

Words: 1.6k

You always feel like you're running. Running away from something, whether that be by actual people or even yourself. From the very beginning, you were taught that you won't have to deal with things, there will always be people to do things for you, and now you see the clear irony in that.

The woman working behind the table hands you the fruit that you asked for, responding with a soft “thank you,” and you're on your way, moving through the crowd of people into the forest.

You move the vines covering the cave that has become your home over the past ten years. You take the quiver on your back off, along with the bow, placing it down against the rock wall then you sit on the floor. Being alone is different, something that you're still not used to, and probably something that you will never get used to; going from a life of extravagance, friends, families, and parties, to a life like this was a big change.

Every night you have nightmares of that day. The day that your home planet was infiltrated by the First Order and you had to be dragged out of the castle and into one of the fighter ships with the General, flying out to the planet that you currently live on. Constantly there are moments where you wish that you can rewrite history and change everything, but that's impossible, no one can do that. That's something you have to get out of your head and accept your reality no matter how hard it is.

-

The minute the X-wings landed, the fire and repair crew run over to get to work on any damage done to the ships as the pilots climb out. As her friends congregate together, Rey walks over to them to ask about the mission. “How did it go?”  

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Poe replied, Rey rolls her eyes at the sarcasm that was laced in the sentence. He's always difficult with her.

She looks at the Sergeant next to the pilot for a real answer. “We got another piece of the map. This should lead us to find what the First Order is looking for.”

Rey nods, Ben takes off leading them down to the underground facility part of the Base. The members of the Resistance hoped that they can reach whatever the First Order is searching for before they did. For months they have been following every move that the other is making, and now they're finally one step ahead and it was all thanks to Sergeant Ben Solo.

Some might think that Ben Solo has it easy with gaining that title in the Resistance, given that his mother is the General and she can promote or demote as much as she pleases, but he only got that title because of one simple thing: he deserves it. He has worked hard to become the skilled fighter that he is now, his closest friends had seen it, onlookers who thought they knew him didn’t but he doesn't care what others thought. He knows who he is. And that’s all he cares about.

“Rose, what do we got?” Ben asked, walking down the stairs and over to the round screen that's instilled on the ground.

Everyone gathers as the hologram of the map comes up. “It’s a planet near the Unknown Regions called Tunov,” Rose explained. “There’s a signal coming from here,” she zoomed in on the place she was talking about that now was flashing red.

“Who could it be?” Poe asked.

Rose shakes her head. “We don’t know.”

“So, it could be someone from the First Order setting us up,” Finn said.

“Or it could be someone in trouble,” Rey added, contradicting what Finn has said.

“Whatever it is, we need to get there before the First Order,” General Organa said. Everyone’s eyes fall on Ben as he is focused on the hologram in front of him, not noticing until the pause in the conversation.

After thinking it over for a few seconds, deciding if it was a good idea or not, he nods. “Let’s go.”

-

Being alone often has its advantages. You have freedom. The freedom you didn’t have while growing up. After living in the forest for so long, it's so familiar like the back of your hand; you even set up spots for training.

You run on the dirt path, bow in hand, and hair whipping along behind you. You step on a log on the ground, launching over it, and landing on one knee. Your hand goes behind, and you're quick to start loading the bow with arrow after arrow, hitting each target that's set up. While you grab the arrows, the sounds of ships fly by ahead. You look up and recognize the silhouette that quickly passes by. A swear is let out underneath your breath and you're on the move back to shelter, freezing as you hear voices. You crouch behind a boulder and try to listen closely.

“The distress signal is closer,” Rey said, watching the way the coordinates change. You slowly and carefully pull out an arrow, loading the weapon once again while moving around.

Something quickly comes flying by the four, sending all into high alert. Ben and Rey whip out their lightsabers while Finn and Poe do the same with their blasters. The group looks behind them seeing that what had flown by, finding that it was an arrow. It couldn't have been a First Order member. They have never used bows and arrows before.

“Who are you?”

Their heads turn back in front of them, looking up as you stand over their heads on the boulder, bow drawn and defenses high. Ben takes the time to look over your appearance, or what he can see of it. Your top is purple, with what looked like tears on the hem of it. Pants that cling to your hips and legs, and boots that make their way up to your calves. Your face isn't visible to them via the current lighting, your head is covered by a hood that is attached to a long grey cloak, the only thing visible was strands of hair that came out of the hood.

“We’re with the Resistance,” Rey said, a calm undertone to her voice. “We got a distress signal from someone out here.”

You scoff. “If that’s true then it sure took you a hell of a long time to get out here. That signal was sent out ten years ago.”

“Not surprised considering where this planet is,” Poe said. You roll your eyes at the remark. Once his sentence is finished, there are blaster sounds that makes them all look but you don't retract the aim on them. The footsteps and blasters get louder, sending them into a bit of a panic.

“Look, we need to hurry,” Finn told you. “Come with us back to the Resistance Base.”

You shake your head. “It’s too late. They’ll find us if we take off,” you said, finally letting your grip fall and put the arrow away. You bend down, placing your hand onto the rock for support as you jump off. “Follow me, we’ll hide until they leave this part of the forest.”

You lead them to your shelter, being big enough to fit all five of you inside the cold cave. It's obvious, at least to Rey, that this is where you currently live. The situation is similar to her own only a few years back before being taken in by the people she now considers family. There's a lot about you that reminded Rey of herself.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked.

“The same amount of time as that distress signal was sent. Ten years,” you replied, pulling the hood off of your head which revealing your entire features, half of your hair being tied up in two buns at the top of your head.

Ben notices the blue jewels sitting on your face and when you move your arm, he gets a glance of a thick gold arm cuff that wraps around your tricep. The jewelry is familiar to him. He has seen plenty of those in his time. They're usually worn by princesses and queens around the universe. If this was any other sort of situation, he would bring it up and ask you, but now is not the time to do that.

Not long after you all get comfortable, Poe’s commlink went off, which he takes in private before returning. “That was Rose,” he said. “She said if we want to get out of here, we have to leave now.”

You shake your head. “There’s no way. Going out there right now is a death-wish.”

“Look, they’re here. We have pilots already out there, as long as we move quickly and quietly we’ll get out of here.”

“And you don’t know this forest as I do. I know every square inch of this place, if you go out there blind, you’ll either get captured or killed. Or both. So either you wait here with me until this clears out, or you go out there. It’s your choice.”

You're getting fired up and Rey can tell. She has to bring you down and maybe you will help them get out of here. “You should come with us. We trust the Resistance, and you should trust us. You said it yourself, you know this forest. You can guide us through while we find the ship.”

You're hesitant. But looking at the faces staring, there's a voice inside that tells you to do it. It is the voice of Marks who had helped you through learning how to survive this way. You had trusted him with your entire life and there was a feeling that he would tell you to trust them if he was with you now.

“Alright. But you follow me the entire way,” you replied, standing while putting your hood over your head once more. They stand as well as you grab your weapon. “Also, my name’s Faye.”

Rey smiles. “I’m Rey. This is Ben, Poe, and Finn.”

You nod in acknowledgment. “Let’s go.”

#ben solo #adam driver #kylo ren #ben solo imagine #adam driver imagine #kylo ren imagine #ben solo x reader #adam driver x reader #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x you #adam driver x you #kylo ren x you #ben solo x oc #adam driver x oc #kylo ren x oc #ben solo x female reader #kylo ren x female reader #adam driver x female reader #resistance!ben solo #resistance ben au #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #ben solo reader insert #ben solo fanfic #ben solo fanfiction

[keelywolfe]

FIC: My Private Happiness (baon)

Summary: Sans is having a day. Maybe a couple days, hell, a collection of them. Prequel to the actual series.

Tags:  Kustard, Pre-Spicyhoney, Angst, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mentions of Therapy, Lemon Goodness

Notes:  

Okay, so, this is set after Last Minute Gift

In terms of the series, it’s right before Pillars of Creation, Edge and Stretch’s first ’date’.

I really need to make a chronological list of the kustard stories, Sans and Red are pains in my ass, and that’s a fact. :P

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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When the doors opened up at the Ebott stop, Sans got off the bus, for once not bothering to toss a ‘don’t call bus, we’ll call you’ or ‘your park is worse than your bite’ to the driver. The bus stop was right outside the Security checkpoint, and on the other side was a Monster-driven shuttle to bring all the riders into New New Home proper.

Normally, Sans wouldn’t have bothered with it. His shortcuts were enough to take him to his own front door, further than Stretch or Red could manage even on their best days. But today he climbed on with the rest, shuffling to the back of the bus to sit, his skull leaning against the window and his sockets closed before the shuttle even pulled away.

Being on the bus at all wasn’t his normal. He could drive, but never bothered to get a car. Usually he rode in to the Embassy with Paps, more rarely with Blue or even Edge since none of them ever pried a stick out of their pelvis enough to skip a day of work. Hitching a ride was easy and he didn’t have any of Stretch’s qualms about begging favors.

Today he didn’t feel like riding with anyone.

The card Paps gave him last night was in his pocket, the sharp edges poking his femur whenever he moved.

“I won’t force you to go,” Papyrus told him. His normal earnest energy was banked, visibly straining against his uncommon seriousness, “but I do want you to consider it. You’ve been doing so much better, Sans, I am so proud of you. But. You could be really happy, if you wanted to, I know you can.”

He sank down to his knees and hugged Sans like he hadn’t since he was a babybones, too tight and too long, and after a minute, Sans returned it. The card went into his pocket without a word, stayed there when he pulled on his shorts again the next day.

Paps wasn’t wrong. He’d been going through the motions a little. Maybe. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He still wasn’t convinced that it never would.

The shuttle slowed at his road and Sans was up before the chime even rang. This time, he gave the driver a grin and a wave, ignoring the flash of confusion in their eye as no pun heralded his exit.

Too bad, they could live without his shining personality for one fucking day.

He and Paps lived at the end of the road, in a cardboard cutout-style house that was exactly the same on either side. Except their house was a sanctuary for lawn ornaments, Papyrus could never resist one. Flamingos and gnomes, fairies and bright, garish sunflowers made of scrap metal. Gyftmas was months ago now but that didn’t stop Santa from greeting anyone who came over to visit, and the collection of bird baths offered any avians accommodations as lush as the finest resort.

Every time the Edgelord walked past the cheery clown with its bright red grin stationed right next to the sidewalk his eye socket twitched, and that right there was worth the price of admission.

Sans trudged down the sidewalk towards that wonderland, but his eye lights were on his sneakers. One of the knots was coming loose as he watched, slowly unraveling until one lace trailed along like a cooked spaghetti noodle. That idle observation seemed to give permission for his mind to let Papyrus wander back into his thoughts.

Looked like he’d given up not thinking along with everything else.

Yeah, Paps was right, wasn’t he--

(wasn’t he always, really, Sans could never hide as much from him as he wished he could, Paps was so cool)

--he was getting by, sure. Doing the Embassy thing, helping out, hell, that was better than Stretch did. Then again, if he was gonna hold himself up to someone for a mental health comparison, Stretch was probably not the best candidate. Everyone knew that, ‘cept maybe Edge who was too busy trying not to let himself know how badly he wanted to get into those ugly pants to fondle some bones. That slow-motion train wreck was the main reason Sans turned Stretch down some months ago when he’d inquired about a quickie, more’s the pity.

Anyway.

Yeah, he was doing better, but even he couldn’t lie himself a fairytale and say he was happy. Fuck, what was happy, anyway?

All came down to the kid. Sans still wasn’t positive about Frisk, even if everything seemed all hunky dory, all of ‘em on the surface, seeing the sunsets and stargazing with real stars.

It all seemed like a pie and cake dream, but he knew what Stretch had gone through back in his own world. Some of Sans’s memories cracked open when they arrived, blurred snippets that matched the few scrawled notes he’d found in the basement. Yellow petals, the insanity of a high, sweet laugh.

Yeah, he’d known about the anomaly from his notebooks, but getting to remember anything of it was another level.

Not that any of ‘em really discussed it, fuck, no. The science behind it, sure, math and equations were sterile, safe. He, Red, and Stretch were bonafide experts at not talking, PhDs unite.

But being Judges gave them the unique perspective, dinnit. Looking into Stretch’s soul and seeing the guilt there, the sins that crawled up his spine about his brother and the Underswap kid…yeah. Unique perspective, that was one way to put it. Sans didn’t blame Stretch one bit for tucking the Judge away, boxing it up in the back of his skull, and refusing to see anymore. Talk about someone doing much better; when Stretch first got here, his soul was so fragile that Red tried to get Sans in on bet that he’d dust within a month. Sans hadn’t taken him up on it, but quietly thought he was right, watching with his own version of apathy that wasn’t much kinder than Red’s, waiting for him to fall down.

That he hadn’t was maybe the ‘Papyrus’ in him, because it sure as hell wasn’t the ‘Sans’, and Sans’s lack of effort to help him back then was a sin of his own waltzing along his backbone.

Stretch was doing a lot better these days, enough to argue with Edge with some pretty nasty zingers. Gossip around the Embassy was that those two finally had a date coming up, at the planetarium of all places. He hoped for all their sanity it went well.

Sanity, heh. He touched the card through his pocket, traced the edges of it. Doctor Lee, psychiatrist, specializing in Trauma and PTSD. A plain white card, the black letters glossy and embossed. He didn’t need to look at it, he remembered every word on it down to the phone number. He almost did anyway but a prickle along his senses made him pause.

Someone was following him.

Hm.

Interesting.

He could easily shortcut into the house, but where was the fun in that.

Instead, he kept trudging along, didn’t so much as change his pace. Passed a lady and her kiddo, gave ‘em a toothy smile. Walked on past Santa, the clown, the gnomes and the vampire flamingo as he headed in the house.

Before he even closed the door, hands were on him, shoving him backwards. Sans stumbled as the door swung shut, slamming hard, and his shoulders struck the smooth surface. Even without those gleaming crimson eye lights, he would’ve known those hands, sharp fingertips prickling through his t-shirt and against his ribs.

“heya sansy,” Red breathed against the side of his skull. “been missing me?”

“kinda a strange question since you were the one getting in some stalking practice.” Sans was pretty proud at how even his voice was considered the way Red was grinding their crotches together. “still need to log some hours before you can get certified?”

Hot breath couched in laughter gusted against his skull, making Sans shiver. “nah, i went pro years ago. but you gotta use a skill or you lose it, yeah?” Those sharp fingertips skimmed lower, down to wear his t-shirt was riding up to barely expose his iliac crest. “speakin’a practice, there’s a thing or three i might need some help with to keep my skill level up.”

He hadn’t been alone with Red since that time at the Gyftmas party and if this wasn’t getting his rocks off, then that memory was. Red pressed against his back, jerking him off, the cold siding of the house beneath his cheekbone and the thrilling fear of being caught.

“yeah? somethin’ you want some help with, huh.” Sans asked. He couldn’t quite achieve boredom, not with his crotch giving him away.

“yeah, been meaning to give my knees a good workout and if you help, i don’t get a crick in my neck.”

Sans exhaled shakily. Paps could be home any minute now, open the door with a jangle of keys, could catch Red blowing him right in their doormat with drool and come running down his chin. His bedroom was right upstairs, the bathroom, hell, the laundry room had a lock on the door.

All Sans said was, “you really want to go with short jokes?”

“can only work with the material you’ve got.”

Red didn’t drop to his knees so much as he slithered, pulling Sans’s shorts carelessly along for the ride. His dick got caught at the waistband and Sans winced as the fabric scraped along the head before it let loose, making his dick bob like a cork in a lake.

Wasn’t any time to bitch about it. Red swallowed him down in one gulp, the hot, velvety magic coating his mouth made Sans choke out a moan. He slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the next one, but it became a groan of disappointment as Red pulled off.

“don’t you dare, sansy,” he snarled. Those crimson eye lights burned in the darkened foyer. “you let me hear every fucking whimper.”

“yes, boss, whatever you say, boss,” Sans snarked, but sarcasm was a lost cause when Red ducked his head again, a long tongue curling around his shaft. Fuck, so slippery tight, better than a hand. The sound that crept through Sans’s teeth was closer to a yowl and he felt the vibration of a hum of amusement.

Okay, yeah, Sans wasn’t past a little vindictiveness. He grabbed Red’s skull in both hands and jerked him down, thrusting in hard to nudge at the back of Red’s formed throat. Good plan in theory, but Red only swallowed him down easily, let Sans do it again, riding his face rougher than he’d usually dare.

Dimly, Sans could hear another slick sound, a counterpoint to the obscene glick that came with every thrust that glided past Red’s dangerously sharp teeth. He was jerking himself off, his shoulder moving with every stroke, and Red was moaning, shaky and low, deep in his throat and fuck, the feeling of it made Sans quiver down to his toes.

The first splash of come landed on Red’s tongue and he wrested away from Sans’s grip before the second could fall, his hand taking the place of his mouth as he stroked Sans through it, spurts of deep blue streaking across his t-shirt.

“fuck,” Sans croaked out, both in pleasure and dismay. “that’s gonna stain, you shit.”

“guess you’ll have to make a another thrift store run,” Red said with vindictive cheer. A thread of that same blue was running down his chin and Sans wiped it away before it could drip. Red watched, eye lights narrowing as Sans licked that droplet from his finger, tasting the sharp sourness of his own magic.

“that what you wanted?” Sans asked, all false politeness and solicitude. For a long moment there was no answer, only Red staring at him with those demon eye lights.

“yeah, sure,” Red said finally, almost absently distracted. “thanks for the good time, see ya around.”

It was only when Red vanished that Sans got a good look at his own feet and saw the splashes of crimson on his sneakers.

That fucker came on his shoes and didn’t even offer to get him a towel.

Outrage was out of reach and Sans only laughed helplessly, sliding down the door until he was slumped on the floor, shorts around his ankles, his shirt soaked with his own jizz and his shoes dripping with someone else’s.

That card was digging in to his ankle and Sans pulled it out with a wince. It was wrinkled, the card stock creased, but it was still legible.

You could be really happy, if you wanted to. I know you can.

His brother would be home soon, might see him like this, might already know what was going on, Paps was so smart and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d hid his disappointment in Sans behind loud indignation. What was going on? Who the fuck knew, Red’s mind was a maze and Sans was shit at puzzles.

Happy. Could be happy. Maybe.

Sans sighed and pulled out his phone.

-finis-

#kustard #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[minstrophywife]

Reverie

⇢Pairing: Namjoon x Scientist!Reader ⇢Genre: Romance, Sci-fi!AU    ↳[fluff] [smut] [baby bit of angst] ⇢Word Count: 5,280 ⇢Warnings: Sappy romantic imagery, some really soft sex, nothing outrageous (Namjoon is really sweet okay): missionary, fingering, hand-job, creampie, no protection (please practice safe sex!).

⇢Masterlist

⇢Summary: You only meet in dreams, and it’s always on the beach. And maybe the both of you don’t want to wake up at all.

⇢A/N: Hello guys! I had a sudden idea after talking to the lovely @monospromise about her dreams. So here you go. It’s your dreams come true (ish). It’s a bit shorter than my other stuff, but I hope you enjoy! I really liked writing this one.

REVERIE.

The sun feels hot against your skin, and you can see it dance across your closed eyelids. A breeze passes by, and you smell the salt from the ocean tickle your nose. 

You already feel your heart at peace, and you fight the temptation not to move at all.

When you do finally open your eyes, you are met with paradise- the sky is a brilliant blue, palm trees sway above you, the leaves shivering from the wind.

Not a bad thing to wake up to, you think, smiling softly. 

You sit up, and you are laying on the grass- but a large beach stretches in front of you, the green of the water splashes onto the white sand. 

It almost looks like snow, with how with the beach is, and you walk towards it, mesmerized. You have encountered such a beautiful place before.

But as you take a few steps forward, you notice another sleepy figure in the grass under his own tree. His legs are sprawled outwards, hands resting on his belly. You step closer, curious. 

You notice how soft snores escape from full lips, and you can’t help the small giggle that escapes your lips. He wakes up with a stir, and you’ve been caught staring at his sleeping form. He rubs his eyes with his hands.

“Just how loud was I snoring?” He asks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment as he sits up.

His actions make you want to tease him. “Loud enough to walk over to you.” 

“Perfect then.” He says looking up at you, and his flirty response has you blinking back in shock.

You see his dimples in response, and you can’t help but think that you want to always make him smile- just to see those dimples again.

“Kim Namjoon.” he says, outstretched hand towards you. 

“Y/N.” You say taking his hand in yours. 

You see him again today, but he isn’t sleeping. This time Kim Namjoon is reading a book, and you peek over at the front, trying to discover the title. He looks content, shaded by a palm tree. You contemplate whether or not you should bother his reading.

Instead you take a seat as quietly as possible next to him, not trying to be rude, but happy to see a familiar face again. He hums in response, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence. 

The two of you are walking together down the beach, side by side. You hunt for seashells, already the bucket filled with an array of swirling pinks and browns. You haven’t known Namjoon very long, but you can see his childlike personality appear when searching for the most interesting of shapes and colors.

“What are we going to do with the shells, when we are done?” You ask, as you find a particularly pretty pink cockle shell. You place it gingerly into the bucket that is currently wedged in the sand, between you and Namjoon.

“That’t the beauty of it- it’s about searching for things that automatically make them special. So we can do whatever we want!” He says, and your heart beats just a little faster.

The hammock is large, large enough for the two of you to climb in together. You fidget nervously as you walk closer to it, Namjoon excitedly describing the book that he just finished to you. You aren’t really paying attention though.

“After you.” He says, helping you into the hammock. You hold onto his shoulders for balance while you shift into a comfortable position to let him on as well.

He tumbles awkwardly into the netting, and you laugh, not assisting him at all. He grumbles at your lack of help, a blush riding high on his cheekbones.

It takes him some time before he can talk about his book again, especially over your giggles.

“Namjoon?” You ask, the both of you enjoying the cool of the ocean water from the heat of the summer sun.

“Yes?” He says, turning to you, and you see dimples again, and your question gets lost- the sparkling of the surface of the water as well as his hair, wet from when you splashed at him playfully.

You just return the smile instead, until he dunks your head underwater in revenge.

“Ah, hello!” He’s waiting for you again, this time he’s sitting in the sand, his bare toes are kissed by the waves, white bubbles creating a contour around his feet. As you approach closer, you see his signature dimples emerge. You can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth begin to lift in response. When you stand beside him, you hover, glancing at the sea that spreads before you, and you release a deep breath.

Every time you meet with Namjoon, your heart feels full and heavy, but there is a question that weighs down your tongue. You wonder when you can ask him.

Today feels different- clouds cover the sun, a hazy glow settling on the beach. Namjoon is waiting for you per the usual, but this time he seems distracted as you approach- so much so that you scare him when you put a hand down on his shoulder. 

He turns to you and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hello Y/N, nice to see you as always.” Your eyebrow lifts in a silent question.

“What would you like to do today?” You ask, hoping to ease whatever is on his mind. Namjoon stands, and he naturally takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s just go for a walk today.” He says and you try to focus on why he sounds so distant today, rather than on your entwined fingers. You wonder if he meant to do that. He’s not letting go though.

You walk silently for a while, footprints follow behind you in the sand. 

“I know it’s all a dream you know.” He says abruptly, not looking you in the eye. 

You pause mid stride, eyes widening.

“Well, a simulated dream anyways.” He mumbles, mostly to himself. 

You turn towards him.

“Wait, how long have you known?” This wasn’t supposed to happen. Isn’t supposed to happen.

“Ah, I’ve known for a while. I remember reading articles in the Scientific Journals before during my lunch breaks. They mentioned trying a new way to re-stimulate the brain, to encourage the person to finally wake up from their coma. In layman’s terms anyways.” He digs his heel in the sand. He still hasn’t turned to face you yet.

You knew he was smart, and even more so after your meany sessions with Kim Namjoon. You try to search for his eyes, but he’s looking away towards the horizon, a wistful stare.

 “How long was it until you noticed?” You ask. There isn’t much point on hiding it from him.

“I noticed on the third day- you always find me, but I realized that I never remember much before or after you leave. I’m just always on the beach.”

You aren’t sure what to say. But he’s staring at you, waiting.

“I’m sorry you found out.” You manage to finally say. “The patient is not supposed to know, or to ever know. Most patients don’t remember any of the sessions they wake up.” 

That seems to make his eyes widen, and he turns to you with a worried expression.

“Then I’ll enjoy what I have, while I have it. I’m happy to have you.” 

The hand that squeezes yours is shaking.

You squeeze it back.

Your eyes flutter open, and you peel the helmet off your head. A cold sweat has appeared on your body. The glass of the pod is still closed in front of you, but you hear Hoseok’s muffled curse and then its sliding open.

You take deep breaths.

“Are you alright?” Hoseok asks, worry knitting his brows together. “Both you and Kim Namjoon had a heightened heart rate this session.”

You swallow thickly, nodding. You know you need to tell Hoseok the truth, that the sessions could now be completely screwed up, since…

 He knows.  

But- you realize, that this could be an interesting part of Kim Namjoon’s recovery, as well as a further subject to study for later sessions. 

Or it’s because you don’t want to stop seeing him.

“I’m fine- Don’t worry. We just were talking about some sensitive things.” You say, turning toward your colleague and best friend. He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it slide. For now.

You exit the pod now, walking towards your laptop to distract yourself with creating the log for this session.

As the sun begins to settle down the horizon, your eyes begin to flutter- you are stubbornly fighting the pull of sleep. But you are drowsy, and your cheek nestled against his chest causes you to slowly rise and fall with each intake of breath. You count his heart beat, and find your own heart aligning with his. You vaguely feel a soothing hand that rubs small circles on your hip, matching the slow tempo of your combined hearts.

badump badump badump

Your eyes shut. 

You aren’t allowed to enjoy the feeling of relaxation- too soon you hear the familiar whirring of the supercomputer fans, along with the consistent beep beep beep of the heart rate monitors, and the clicking of keyboard keys. 

You refuse to open your eyes. Perhaps it means you can just stay- wrapped in his arms, falling asleep to the lullaby of his heart. 

“It’ll be just a moment!” 

Hoseok’s words have never felt more poignantly accurate, and you sure as hell won’t tell him. 

His regular appointments are going well, each time you visit Namjoon has managed to conjure something else in his headspace to do together. You recognize it as signs of progress,  that he’s finally wanting to wake up. 

You want him to wake up. You do. But the smallest, quietest part of you hidden away says that you don’t want him to forget you. But you shove that thought deep and far away, in the darkest part of your heart.

It’s been about a month or so, and one particular morning you hear a soft knock on the door of your office. 

Hoseok gives you a minute before popping his head in.

“It’s the Kim family. They wanted to finally meet you.” 

You nod. You knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. Rising from your desk, you follow after Hoseok to see a very tired looking Mr. and Mrs. Kim. They are huddled together on the couch, and their shoulders are scrunched up. 

 At the sound of your entrance, both of their worn faces look up, and a soft, hopeful smiles replace their sombre faces.

“Ah, so you’re the doctor helping our Namjoon?” 

You nod, reaching over to shake their hands politely. They both grapple for some sort of comfort- you know its because you are the only source who can talk to their son. You aren’t always the best with these types of meetings, but your heart feels softer for them- they have a good son, and you ignore your quickening pulse as you remember the gentle act of him tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you for taking a part of this, I know that we are still in the early development parts of experimentation for this type of recovery and therapy.” You say, sitting down next to Hoseok in the opposite chair from the sofa.

They shake their heads. “We will do anything for Joonie. Anything to see him smile again.”

You want to go over and hug them at the sound of their desperation.

You don’t want to give them hope, and you can’t disclose your sessions because of doctor patient confidentiality, but you do want to reassure them- if anything to ease their anxiety just a little bit.

“You have a good son. You raised him well.” You say, smiling softly. 

Mr. Kim shifts on the sofa, to sit proudly, while Mrs. Kim returns your smile. 

“We know his body has physically healed, all that’s remaining is for him to wake up. We refuse to lose hope.” Mr. Kim says, and you see determination flash across his eyes. You can tell he trusts you inexplicably, and it weighs on your shoulders as you straighten in your chair. 

“We just want him to wake up from his lovely dreams, and return to us so we can create new lovely memories.” Mrs. Kim wipes away some tears that are threatening to fall.

He really has some loving parents, and you feel the need to return their happiness. You steel yourself.

“I promise to bring him back home to you.”

No matter how long it takes.

Today you laying looking at the sky, not even caring about the sand in your hair. 

Large puffy clouds float lazily by. You laugh when he says one looks like a lion. It’s a nostalgic game to play, as you two begin associating clouds into more and more outrageous shapes. 

One looks like Icarus flying too close to the sun, and it wrenches you a bit from your fantasy. He says it looks like an angel.

“Why don’t you wake up?” You ask bluntly during one session, staring unflinchingly.

He turns to you from his crab hunting, wiping his hands on his shorts. 

“And leave paradise?” He says teasingly, his lips quirking up into a playful grin. 

“I’m serious.” You frown, flicking some washed up seaweed in his direction. 

A raised eyebrow. 

“Why are you asking now?” 

You hesitate, unsure if it’s a good idea to talk to him about your meeting with his family, and the real world. He’s waiting patiently, arms crossed, gaze steady. You’re not getting out of this one now. 

“You don’t think I’m trying?” He says, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. “I finally was getting somewhere in life, feeling accomplished. Then the accident happened and everything stopped. You don’t think I’m not full of desire to continue?” 

You stay silent, not ready to break his revealing of emotions. 

“I don’t want to be angry. I’m trying not to be upset at what happened.” 

It’s the first time you’ve heard bitterness in Namjoon’s usually calm voice. 

“I’ll ask you the same. Why won’t I wake up? You’re the doctor.” He spits, clearly frustrated and upset. He’s not even looking at you now. 

You’ve hit a nerve, and you realize how much his words have hurt you in turn. You stand angrily. 

It’s your first fight, and the first time you’ve left a session early. 

You press the small button on your bracelet, signaling for Hoseok to pull you awake. 

You decide it’s time to be more professional. You decide to not plug back into his dreamscape until you can give him some answers. 

His question hurt, but it was the truth. You have the power in this situation- you get to wake up but he does not. He’s stuck in his own head. 

He must be suffocating. 

And you took advantage of it, swept up in your own emotions and feelings toward Namjoon. 

You feel so selfish. 

You chastised yourself for being so unprofessional, wallowing a bit. Instead of trying to help Namjoon, here you are letting yourself being pampered by him, caught up in a dream and the notion of paradise.

Hoseok could feel your frustration, instead he just dutifully listened to all your requests, consistently sliding a steaming cup of coffee on your desk every few hours.

You really don’t deserve his kindness.

But now you are just determined- determined to help Namjoon escape and finally wake up. 

You’ve been pouring over Kim Namjoon’s brain activity over the past few months, comparing the patterns of when you plugged in versus his neutral state. 

You furrow your eyebrows, checking your data and are unhappy with the results. In general, you can tell his brain activity is acting normal, and honestly should be allowing for him to wake up. And yet each time you unplug from him, the brain activity goes back to a neutral state.

Tonight is another night of frustration. After a week of analysis, you really hate to reach your conclusion, because it seems like a cop out. Everything just seems psychosomatic. 

He really is lost in his own head- something is keeping him back and you aren’t exactly sure what it quite is yet.

With newfound determination, you realize you need to plug back in, and actually talk to him. 

The next day, at work, you pull Hoseok aside the minute he walks in.

“I think after taking the last week to analyze my sessions with Kim Namjoon, I still can’t produce any conclusions as to why he won’t wake up.” 

He sits in thought for a moment, processing your comment.

“After my own study as well, I think we both can conclude its psychosomatic.” 

You both wince at the word.

You needed to hear it from Hoseok.

“I think we both know you need to talk to Kim Namjoon again.” He clears his throat, and dares to look you in the eye. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you to cause you to avoid him, but as your colleague, and most importantly, as your friend, you can’t keep avoiding the inevitable.”

You gulp. You can always count on Jung Hoseok to get straight to the point.

“Especially for Namjoon’s sake.” 

He’s right.

“Especially for Namjoon’s sake.” You repeat, your voice small.

You lay into the pod again, and this time Hoseok helps hook the helmet securely, as a form of settling your anxiety. You nod in silent thanks.

The glass doors of the pod slide shut, and you close your eyes. You faintly hear Hoseok’s words of “good luck” before you smell the sea breeze.

When you open your eyes this time, your vision is filled with stars. It’s your first dreamscape with Namjoon that occurs at night.

While it’s nighttime, its still warm, and you pause for a moment, awed by such a spectacle of beauty. 

It’s as if someone has thrown confetti in the air, and the pieces have hung suspended. 

The amount of stars make you think that Namjoon is trying to impress you. Maybe. 

You walk forward towards the beach, head pointed to the sky as you stop to sit again while you wait for him. You dig your toes into the sand.

In an instant, he’s there. 

There is a long stretch of silence- perhaps you both don’t know what to say after your fight. Silent apologies hang heavy in the air. 

“Thank you.” You say, eyes not leaving the stars, stars he made for you.

You hear a heavy exhale, and he shifts - a hand finds your own.

“I told myself I would make it up to you- that I had to. For me being an asshole to the one person who makes me not alone.” 

“We both were wrong.” 

His hand tightens further on your own. 

“I am your doctor, and you my patient. I got caught up in my growing attachment to you, and instead of focusing on helping you, instead I was selfish and was focusing on me.”

You continue quickly, wanting to get your point across before Namjoon can interject.

“Maybe instead of creating dates and a paradise for me…” you whisper, and you fight a blush forming at your bold words, “… you should figure out what you need first.” You press your free hand against his heart.

There is a long pause, and you can feel the beating of his heart against his chest.

badump badump badump

Namjoon takes this moment to reach across, grabbing your cheek to pull your attention away from your hand over his heart. 

“Did it ever cross your mind…” he says, eyes searching yours, thumb dragging softly across your cheek, “…that you are what makes me want to be able to wake up and see you every day? Every moment?”

You break your eye contact, gaze shifting down shyly. You look at your entwined fingers in the sand. 

Namjoon is not deterred. 

“That when I close my eyes and open them again I can be with you? That when I pursue my life to the fullest it can be by your side?”

Tears spill and fall from your eyes, you hadn’t noticed it before. His thumb wipes along the tracks.

And then his lips are on yours and he’s kissing you.

Soft, but desperate. 

And you kiss back, with the same fervor, and your hand tightens on fabric of his tee, bunching it between your fingers. 

Your lip is being pulled between his teeth, and then you flick your tongue out to meet his mouth and then tongues twist together, sloppy and needy.

You are vaguely aware of him shifting- he’s pushing you down, your hair in the sand. You open your eyes at your world shifting, and he pulls away.

Your vision is filled with him, the stars, and your breath catches in your throat.

“That when I touch you, it’s not a dream- your skin beneath my fingers, your shuddering breath, your body under mine.” His voice is rumbling, broken from your kisses.

He’s waiting patiently for your response, a warm hand teasing under the hem of your shirt.

“I want you too.” You whisper, more tears threatening to fall.

And soon enough his shirt is removed, and so is yours, and he’s flush against your body, his lips brushing against your eyelids, your nose, you’re cheeks. 

He moves to your neck, and you feel yourself becoming lost in him. His tongue worships your skin, especially the spot where you let out a soft moan. 

As he’s languidly kissing your neck, his hand traces the softness of your sides, traveling upwards to cup your breast, fingers brushing your nipple in teasing touches. 

You don’t want him to stop, the way he’s loving you, but you bring shaky hands to his hair, weaving it amongst the soft strands, hopefully your feelings can be translated to him.

He releases the skin of your neck from between his teeth, the skin already beginning to darken in shade.

“That when you look in the mirror later, you can remember me.”

A soft moan releases from your lips.

He moves down your body, memorizing the planes of your body with his mouth, his tongue, your hands never leaving his hair. 

He reaches the swell of your breast, and suckles lightly on your nipple, his full lips pillows against you. The warm and wet sensation causes you to grip tighter at his hair.

You feel his lips quirk upwards in a smile. 

The attention on your breast means you aren’t paying attention to hands, playing with the waistband of your pants, until you feel a fumbling with the zipper. His fingers struggle to accomplish the job, while he’s mouthing your chest.

You laugh breathlessly.

When you lift your hips to assist him, he ignores your teasing- merely peels the fabric down your legs when the zipper is finally loose, fingers dragging down your legs. You kick the offending material away when when it pools around your ankles.

And Namjoon looks at you, only you- and his fingers trace along your folds, the fabric of your panties wet because of him, only him.

You so desperately want to him to push- it would be so simple for the fabric to be moved out of the way. But you know that the both of you are taking time, time in each other. 

You pull his head back towards yours, lips seeking contact- their partner has been missing already too long. 

The kisses this time are softer, no tongue, just soft pecks of adoration. And when his fingers apply more pressure, your hands finally leave from his hair to make their way towards his shorts- the simple drawstring undone quickly- and your own fingers tease along his hipbone until they dip lower still towards his cock, straining against his briefs. 

When your fingers wrap securely around his shaft and move, your panties are finally removed and his fingers plunge into your folds. He groans against your lips, you tighten around him further in response. 

You match his rhythm, and he matches yours, with each stroke of his cock he pushes into you, and you both are becoming undone. 

His thumb brushes against your clit, and you moan deeply and at that point your patience lasts no longer.

He settles further between your legs, the head of his cock replacing his fingers against your clit, before he finally enters you.

He moves in slowly, savoring the way you suck him in, your hands grapple for his shoulders, trying to pull him in further. And when his body is flush against yours, he pauses to look at your blush, your hair sticking to the sides of your face, and your eyes that screwed shut in pleasure.

And then he moves- slow, deep. But the pace is not enough, and he’s not going deep enough because you want to be lost in him.

You lift your legs to hook around him bringing him closer to you. And then he understands.

And your moans intertwine with his, and as he keeps going, deeper and harder still, you know you’re close, even though you don’t want this moment to end.

But it does, like all dreams do.

And when you do, you cry out, your orgasm too much to process- but you open your eyes because you want to see the look of pleasure on his face, you aren’t sure when you’ll see it next. His eyebrows are knit together, his sweat making his neck and forehead sheen and sparkle from the moonlight. And then he’s coming in you, and you are him and he is you.

badump badump badump

And when you both catch your breath, eyes refocusing onto his face-

“I can only see stars.” You say.

“I can only see stars.” He parrots back.

And your heart is full. 

When you return to the office the next day, you already feel anxiety creeping up your spine. 

You should feel nervous to see him again, especially after your last intimate encounter, but instead all you feel is nausea. 

You settle into the pod and you feel suffocated for the first time.

Because when you open your eyes, it’s as if you hadn’t opened your eyes at all. There is nothing. You don’t know how long you stare into nothing.

Hoseok rips you back into the pod, removing the helmet as quickly as you can.

You are breathing heavily, and you feel cold- so cold.

Hoseok won’t look into your eyes, he’s nervously gripping a clipboard with paperwork behind his back.

Your stomach drops to your chest, and all you can hear is your heart thudding in your ears.

His dreams are gone.

It’s week two and you still can’t see the beach. You fruitlessly connect to the machine, and at this point the other scientists don’t hold you back. You can still feel the pity that fills their eyes, and instead of feeling sad, you just feel frustrated. Why does it feel like everyone else has given up? Even Hoseok doesn’t flash a determined smile back at you now, he simply grips your shoulder as if to try to ground you before stepping away to begin the program. You close your eyes, and when you open them back up-

It’s unbearably silent, an empty void.

You feel so alone. 

You wonder if he is experiencing it too- lost in a sea of black. 

Does he feel as alone as you? 

Hoseok is kind- he leaves you to your thoughts for at least an hour, before he returns you back into the hospital. 

There are no tears to shed anymore, just a dull ache.

“Anything?” Hoseok asks gently, out of routine and comfort, rather than out of curiosity. He helps, unplugging you from the helmet and wires, holding a hand out as you step out of the pod. “Nope, no change.” You accept his hand, and walk towards the computers to log the same entry you have entered for the past two weeks.

You can see him want to ask a question, as his eyebrows draw together for a brief moment, but he just nods, stepping outside to leave you alone.

You know what question is on the tip of his tongue, but you both know the answer to it.

As long as it needs to be.

Today you Namjoon after you have met with your other patients, your schedule is much busier because of the increased funding towards your department. 

Amongst your patients, You’ve seen countless scenes, most in a comfortable home, a warm fireplace, or a large library full of books. Some were outside, a beautiful forest of green, hills of snow, a grassy park, an endless garden of roses - in front of you. You were even on a distant planet once.

You have never seen another beach though.

The success rate is increasing steadily per day, more and more patients finally waking up. It makes you determined, after each success, to see happy family and loved ones shedding tears of happiness to finally reunite with those who have been asleep for so long.

You want to give Namjoon’s family and friends just the same result.

This time, you do not connect to the machine- you knew how tired Hoseok was after today- a total of seven patients- so you sent him home early.

“Are you sure?” He quirks his head towards you, wincing when his neck cracks in response to the movement.

“We’ve both had a long day Hoseok, go home and get some rest. I can visit him on my own today.” You even hang up your lab coat in the locker, just for good measure- to try and convince him that it’s okay.

He’s still hesitating, fiddling with his keycard around his neck. 

You turn, flashing him a reassuring smile. He finally sighs, pulling on his own lab coat to hang. 

“I promise I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” He looks at you apologetically.

Shaking your head, he just gives your shoulder a squeeze, a wordless form of continued support.

“Until tomorrow.”  

You walk down the sterile white hallway, until your reach his room, his name still pinned to the side of the door. 

Kim Namjoon.

You slide the door open, and immediately grab the not so comfortable chair that sits to the right of the entrance. 

You take a familiar seat next to him, or as close as you can get, as he’s in his temperature and air controlled unit. 

beep beep beep

The heart rate monitor reminds you he’s still here, still fighting to return. So you have to stay strong for him too.

beep beep beep

You curl up in your seat, muscles relaxing after the long day at work.

“Hello again.” You say into the air, a little louder than necessary. You hope your words find his ears, especially behind the protective barrier surrounding him.

beep beep beep

You don’t say anything afterwards, you sit, just relaxing in his presence. You fight the weight in your eyelids, the heaviness of your drooping head.

You don’t notice the twitch of his fingertips.

It feels surreal to be at the beach again. 

The sky and sea merge into one, an endless expanse of blue that reminds you just how small you are in comparison. But then you feel his hand grasp yours, and suddenly you realize you don’t ever have to face it alone.

© minstrophywife.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #Namjoon smut #Namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #rm smut #kim namjoon #sci fi au #namjoon imagines #namjoon x reader #bts #reader x namjoon

[residentanchor]

A Stone’s Throw Away

Act 1, Chapter 1

<<Prologue

Once upon a time… Magic existed in harmony amongst the people of a peaceful kingdom. Until one day, there was an evil sorcerer that attacked the kingdom with his magic, wishing to dethrone the king and take the crown for himself. He believed himself better than those without magic. With an evil army at his side, the sorcerer had almost succeeded, until a witch betrayed him and helped the king, locking the evil sorcerer away with her magic. To release the sorcerer, one with good intentions had to wish to break him free of his cage. Though, no one wanted to wish evil upon the land once more, leaving him trapped forever.

“Patty!” Patton jumped, startled at the sound of his little sister’s voice, and looked up from the book he had been reading from. “You’ve already read us this story!” She whined, huffing and kicking her feet in her bed from under the blankets. “Tell us a different one!”

“Yeah, new story!” He looked at his younger sisters, each squished into a much too small bed with one another. They each began kicking up a fuss, chanting together for a different story.

He could only sigh as he rested the worn out book down into his lap. “I’ve gone through all the stories already and we don’t have any more books. Besides, this one is your favorite!” 

Despite his words, they continued to chant. “New story, new story!”

“Girls, quiet!” Patton looked over to the bed with some of his other sisters that were a bit closer to him in age. “If you ask nicely, perhaps Patton can make up a new story for you.”

“New story then, right.” Patton closed the book in his lap and took a moment. “Okay, so, once upon a time… there was a princess who dreamed of exploring the world and going on a big adventure…”

---

The early morning sun was just barely making its way over the horizon. The sherbet colors of the sky were blocked by mountains and starting to light up the town and surrounding forest. It was always the best part of Patton’s day. He appreciated that nothing could stop the stubborn sun from getting up every single morning. Sure, clouds and rain could block it, but he knew that behind all that was the sun, making its daily journey across the sky. If the sun can get up and face the day every morning, then gosh darn it, so can he! He loved mornings the most. His sisters were still asleep and his parents let him keep to his own devices as they got ready for the day. Patton had to tend to the few chickens that had survived the harsh winter and tend to the few crops the poor soil could manage to grow. He always had a bandana tied around his neck to help wipe away the sweat as he worked and rolled up his sleeves as he dug in the dirt. Then, he had to separate what they could keep for themselves and what they could sell. By then, the early morning market would be open and Patton could run down with his small supply to the stand he had helped build and try to see how much he could make. Some mornings, his mother managed to throw a loaf of bread or two onto the pile. On colder mornings, fresh warm bread was the best and Patton would always come home with a few more copper coins in his pocket. Life wasn’t perfect but it was what he was given to work with and that was more than enough. Most days he got to be outside and enjoy the warm sun on his tanned skin, and the rain was always a refreshing change of pace that helped crops grow, even if it didn’t agree with his dark, curly hair that would always frizz up. They could only afford one raincoat and most days it was Patton’s to use. He would tend to the garden and animals and still be able to go to the market with a lower risk of getting sick. 

And yet… every day, Patton looked to the sky and closed his eyes as the warmth of the sun shined down on him, dreaming of the day he would finally step foot out of the town and start his own adventure. He loved his family and what he had, but nothing in the village ever changed. He and his parents pushed to keep their family warm and fed since his sisters were still so young. Even the closest to him in age was just becoming an adult, but Patton wanted to make sure they all got the chance he always wanted. They would finish their schooling first before they would help out the family in hopes that one day, they’d be able to do more with their lives. He wanted them to have the opportunity he had given up.

On the bright side, life at the market was always interesting. Every day, the same few people would set up and try to sell whatever their families managed to harvest. Patton set up next to an older woman named Mrs. Morris that specialized in making jams. She was friendly and loved to talk but was a terrible gossip. Patton always got the latest scoop, not that he ever really cared, but it was nice when she had heard something about his sisters.

“Patton, sweetie, I’m so glad you’re here! You won’t believe what Margaret is up to now!”

After a couple hours in the sun, Patton sighed and looked down in his basket at the scraps that still remained. There were a few things he thought he might be able to sell off easy, but it just wasn’t his day. The sun had climbed high in the sky by that point. Standing at his makeshift table any longer was wasting time he could be doing chores and helping out back home, unfortunately. Packing up, Patton cleared off his little table so it would be ready the next morning for him. He grabbed his basket and headed back up the hill to his family’s cottage after waving goodbye to the others in the market.

“Mama, I’m back,” he kicked the door behind him shut as he walked in, kicking off his muddy boots. “We have leftovers today.”

He walked into the kitchen and found his mother preparing lunch for everyone. The short, middle-aged woman looked exhausted as always. The tired look in her eyes always broke his heart. “Well, that’s quite alright. There’s always tomorrow!”

“Right,” he mumbled, forcing a smile on his face. His mother always said that. ‘There’s always tomorrow’. Tomorrow always brought the same things. How many tomorrows have his mother waited until she expected something good to happen? How many times can she hope that tomorrow will bring something better? Her unwavering optimism was admirable and a bit heartbreaking at the same time. “Well, where is everyone?”

“Out. Your sisters didn’t have lessons today so I sent them out to keep them from going stir crazy. No need to be cooped up inside all day.”

Patton hummed and unpacked the basket of things that they would be able to use before pausing at the sound of a distant thump. He waited until he heard it again before looking out the back window, watching his father chop a log for firewood.  The bearded man lifted the axe and swung it down through a log of wood before pulling back. He huffed and puffed a bit, trying to catch his breath after, placing a hand on his lower back. The small stack of wood next to him showed that he hadn’t been at it for very long. “What is Father doing? He’s going to hurt himself!”

“Oh, you know him. Wanted to help and telling him ‘no’ is like talking to a wall.”

“He threw out his back last time, what is he thinking?” Patton marched to the back door but stopped when his mother reached out and gently grabbed his arm.

“I know, dear, but he’s feeling a bit down about not being able to help out much and you’ve been doing so much lately. Just let him have this?” 

He hesitated a moment before pulling his hand away from the doorknob. “If he hurts himself again, he’s not allowed to chop firewood ever again.”

“Oh, I’d love to see you stop him. I think you’re the only one who could, just as stubborn as he is.”

Patton smiled and helped with lunch while glancing occasionally out the back window. He kept a close eye on his father, watching as he huffed and struggled to do just a little bit of chopping. He was happy to call him eat once lunch had been prepared. Then, after everyone had eaten, he helped clean up before helping his mother clean. There would be a loose floorboard or something would have broken that he would try and fix. Just before dinner, his sisters would beg for him to play and no matter how tired he was, he could never say no. He would eat, clean up and head to bed after telling them a story, just like he did every night. He would wake up just before the sun the next day and repeat this process over and over, as he always had, and always will.

Such was the life of Patton Darling.

----

“Marissa, where is your younger sister? It’s time to leave for your lessons!” “Which sister, Ma? There’s half a dozen of us.”

“I’ve got her.” Patton walked in with his youngest sister, Tabby, trailing behind him. “She’s all dressed and ready to go!” Patton held onto the heavy basket in his arms as he watched his sisters get ready for the day. He had to head down to the marketplace before it got to be too late, but some mornings, he couldn’t help but get wrapped up in the chaos that was the Darling household. 

Tabby turned around and smiled up at her big brother. “Patty, can you get a new book to read to us at night, please? Pretty please?!”

“I go to the market to make money, Tabs, not spend it.” She looked up at him, crocodile tears shining in her eyes. He sighed, knowing to not even bother fighting with her. “I can look, but no guarantees! Okay?” She ran forward and gave him a hug, almost knocking into the basket. “Thanks, Patty!”

Seeing all his sisters run out the door was enough to get Patton moving. He was late already, but he could still make the morning rush if he hurried to his stand. Rushing down the hill to the center of town and waving to his younger sisters, Patton held his basket close as he headed for his makeshift stall to sell the little their family had to offer. 

It wasn’t the best source of income, but with Patton’s father growing older in age, it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet. Patton never knew how much he would manage to sell that day. The side of the market he sold at was usually filled with men in similar situations just trying to get by for their own families. The only times they managed to sell anything were when the main shops were running low or people were in a hurry and needed something cheap. Most days left Patton with a basket heavier than he hoped and his wallet lighter than he wished.

This particular morning went okay. He managed to sell a bit he had gotten that morning fresh from the garden. The weather was growing warmer and Patton’s strawberry plant was starting to sprout as spring started. Selling fresh strawberries would help greatly, but that was still far too long in advance. The plant was weeks from flowering, let alone growing any fruit.

As the sun stood high in the sky, Patton looked over to the center of town. His savings dried up when his father had hurt himself in the winter; otherwise, Patton would just go and buy a new book for his sisters right now. The crowds had begun to thin out as the village went about their own business and other stalls began to pack up for the day. It wasn’t going to be a good day, yet again, though Patton couldn’t do much about it.

Packing up his small basket, he frowned and turned back into town. He couldn’t afford to spend any of the earnings frivolously, but it couldn’t hurt to look for a book and see how much he would need. It was at least something he could do for his sisters. Even if the ones closest to him in age weren’t into fairy tales, they did enjoy reading as much as Patton had, even if he didn’t get the chance to read very often for fun.

The town really had thinned out, but there were still plenty of people hustling by, dropping off deliveries and worrying about their own lives. Weaving through the crowds, Patton found the small library that was also attached to the outpost in case any guards from the castle stopped by. They were pretty far out so the space was often just used as storage, but the building needed someone to maintain the upkeep, so a library it was. New books didn’t come through often and when they did get a delivery, it was usually for the small school. Patton missed the days of learning he had, but he left school early to help his family so his sisters wouldn’t have to do the same.

The old door creaked open but no one was visible inside. The librarian was more of a maintenance man taking care of the old building that also just happened to take care of the books while he was at it. Walking carefully, the small selection on the shelves stared back at Patton as he couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t have much time, but he could sort through and try to pick something out before he had to head back home. There wasn’t much to choose from, but he did find a book or two that would do the job. They weren’t terribly expensive either! He could pull a few extra errands for a little while and hopefully have enough to purchase the book by the end of the month!

He left the library, basket in hand, filled with new hope. It wasn’t as quick as his sisters would have liked, but it was the best he could do. He loved to spoil them any chance he got and it had been a rough winter for all of them, but this was enough to put a spring back in Patton’s step. “Woah!” Patton stumbled back and his heart jumped as he barely managed to run into someone in his excitement. “Careful there!” “I’m so sorry!” Patton checked his basket and looked back up as he apologized. “I didn’t see you there!” “I suppose I was walking too close to the door, my apologies!” Patton blinked and grew confused as he realized he didn’t recognize the man in front of him. “I didn’t mean to slow you down.” “Oh, no! That’s okay! Are, uh. Are you new here? Just passing through?” “Is it that obvious?” The man laughed and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Yeah, I’m a traveling messenger. Saw this quaint little village and decided to see if I could resupply before heading out.”

“Oh!” Patton perked up and smiled. “That’s so exciting!”

The man laughed again as the sparkle and wonder lit up in Patton’s eyes. “Yeah, nothing too glamorous, but I get to enjoy the view everywhere I go.” “That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to leave this village and see new sights! Have you got any amazing adventure stories?” “Calm there, friend. I’m nothing special, but I have seen a thing or two. How about you show me where I could stock up on supplies and I tell you a tale?” “Of course!” Shifting his basket to one arm, Patton stuck out a hand. “Name’s Patton Darling!”

The stranger took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Roman. Roman Grimsby.”

“Well, Roman Grimsby,” Patton shifted his basket into both hands once more as he turned to walk. “What brings you to our village?” “I’m headed to the castle, actually. Have some business there.” Patton froze immediately and stared at Roman. “Something wrong?” “The castle? You have business at the castle?!”

“Nothing like that, just delivering a letter to someone’s family, then I head back with the response. So nothing too special.”

Despite Roman trying to shake it off, Patton was immediately taken with the stranger. “But you still get to go to the castle! That’s amazing! I’ve never even left this town!” “Well,” Roman turned and started walking once more. “Maybe one day you and I can have a real adventure of our own, hm?” Patton felt his heart flutter as he raced after the messenger, catching up to show him the way.

---

“And he told me about this time he had to cross this bridge but it was out! He managed to climb down and across and back up in a day! It wasn’t too steep but then he was behind, so he took a shortcut through these thick woods and-” “Patty!” Patton jumped at the sound of his mother’s raised voice. “You’ve been talking about this Roman fella for a while! You keep talking about this boy and I’m gonna start thinkin’ that you’re smitten with him.”

Patton flushed at the accusation, Roman’s smile flashed in his mind as he shook his head. “No, ‘course not! But he promised he’d come back through so I could talk to him again!” His mother gave him a look before he huffed. “Ma, I haven’t had a friend my age since I was schooled! I’m working all the time, let me have one person in my life outside this family?”

Patton regretted the words immediately as his mother looked down in guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Just teasin’ ya is all. I’m glad to see you being so excited all the time. I’ve missed that smile on your face, my baby boy.”

“Maaaaa, don’t say things like that!” Patton smiled and reached out, wrapping his mother in a hug. “I do it ‘cause I love my family. It’s just nice to get a break once in a while.”

“I know, baby.” His mother reached up and Patton bowed his head so she could plant a kiss on it. “I just want what’s best for you. One day, we’ll all be good and I want you to be able to live your life and not worry about all of us, alright?”

“Of course, Mama.”

Though, Patton knew that wish was still far from coming true.

A few days had passed and Patton had begun doing extra chores around the village. He helped pull weeds and garden for some of the older villagers for a few coins. Some had housework that Patton didn’t mind helping with. Loose floorboards and windows that needing some fixing because they wouldn’t open. A few odds and ends took up all of his spare time before he headed home and did the same for his own family.

It wasn’t until a week later that a familiar traveler made his way back through the village. Patton was at his stall, trying to sell a day old loaf of bread when Roman approached him with a few copper coins in his hands. “Roman!” Patton almost dropped the bread he had been trying to sell for pretty much anything at that point. He held the loaf close to his chest and smiled at the messenger. His heart fluttered as Roman smiled back at him “You’re back!”

“Indeed, I have returned as promised! Now, how much?” The messenger pointed to the loaf of bread. “Oh, no! I couldn’t!” Patton shifted back, hiding the loaf close to his chest. 

Roman raised a brow and shifted on his feet, holding a hand out with three copper pieces in it. “You were willing to sell it just a moment before, but now that you have a buyer, you have changed your mind? It must be the best bread in the whole village!” Patton smiled but shook his bread. “Oh, no. The baker has far better options. This is just a load ma made yesterday that I couldn’t sell.” “Then three copper is plenty, right?” Roman placed the money on the makeshift stall Patton always used before reaching out and grabbing the bread. Patton looked up at him silently as he let go, watching the other wrap it in cloth before shoving it into his bag. “That will be wonderful with my dinner tonight, thank you Patton.” “O-oh. You’re welcome.”

Roman had kept his promise to talk before he ventured off back to his employer. Roman Grimsby was the opposite of Patton in many ways. He grew up an only child and left his family the first change he got. He wanted to travel, but not really to adventure. He had hoped to find a place to settle down and make a life somewhere before he came across the messenger job. He never actively sought out adventure, letting it come to him instead. Patton was enraptured by his stories, desperately wishing to be a part of them one day. Traveling with Roman and waiting to see what the next horizon would bring or snuggled next to each other under the stars at night to keep warm. 

Luckily, Roman’s messenger job was not yet completed. He would be delivering letters back and forth for a little while, giving him the chance to stop by the village as he traveled through. Every time, Roman would wave goodbye with a promise to stop by next time he was in the area. Every time, it was heartbreaking to Patton. He never knew when Roman would come back, if he ever would. He was simply exchanging letters to someone closer to the castle and this was the best route for him to take, but who knows how long that would last? Patton always sent him off with a snack and a smile, hoping his promise to return would be sooner than the last.

Chapter 2>>

#Sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #ts patton #ts roman #royality #peasant patton #messenger roman #fantasy au #medieval au