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meetmyblondemuffins · 3 years

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Movie Antics

Warnings: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex

“Tickets for two,” I said enthusiastically to the man standing behind the glass of the old, worn ticket booth. I heard an exaggerated sigh coming from the right of me. Looking over at Sirius, I raised my brows and jutted out my bottom lip, attempting to make him feel somewhat guilty. I squeezed his large hand and further intertwined our fingers. “You’ll live, Siri. It’s only a couple of hours.”

I’d been dying to see this new independent film that had been released a few weeks ago. I had been putting off watching it for some time now because I wanted to watch it with Sirius. I could tell he would’ve preferred being left behind. The entire ten blocks we walked from the cinema he drug his feet like a child who was being forced into a dentists’ office. I was surprised he didn’t throw himself on the concrete; kicking and screaming. Although he didn’t throw a complete tantrum, he did try making up a thousand excuses as to why he absolutely couldn’t bear to see one second of this ‘horrendous-looking film’.

It started from the second we stepped out of the front door and into the chilly breeze of a typical, dreary London day.

“Look how gloomy it is. It’s bound to rain—we should stay in tonight.”

“It’s gloomy every day, Sirius. And besides, I brought an umbrella.”

“But… why walk allllll the way to the cinema in the cold when we could snuggle up in a perfectly warm bed?” I giggled at his suggestion.

“Yeah, I’m sure all you want to do is snuggle up in bed.” I knew that for a fact, Sirius wanted much more than to lie in bed when he’d already try to rid me of my clothing minutes before leaving the house.

He seemed more sex-driven the past few days than I’d seen him before. Everywhere we went, he was ready to go; whether he spontaneously suggested the idea while lounging around at home, or in complete public. Refusing a cluster of his many advances always guaranteed nothing less than spectacular sex later on. It’s like all of his built-up sexual tension was released all at once; It was fantastic.

As soon as we bought our tickets and concessions, we walked into the dimly lit theatre. Scanning the rows of chairs from left to right, I noticed that not a single chair in the entire room was occupied. I supposed nobody was up for a film on a greyer-than-usual Sunday afternoon.

Sirius walked to the first row that was closest to the entrance, leading me with my index finger wound around his. We sat towards the middle of the row.

I would’ve preferred to sit closer to the front, if even just a few rows, but I decided to cut my pouting, child-like boyfriend a bit of slack. Sirius slouched down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest as the lights dimmed to complete darkness. Immediately following, lights of the previews that covered the far wall flooded the room. It was almost blinding.

Looking over at the silhouette of Sirius’s profile, the glow of the projection outlined the miserable look he had plastered on his face. I almost felt bad for dragging him here, but on the other hand, I think he was being a drama queen about the entire situation.

Reaching over the popcorn that I had resting in my lap, I brought the armrest that was separating us to a vertical position so that I could scoot closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and whispered into his ear, his flyaway curls brushing against my cheeks.

“I really appreciate you being here, you know.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, lightly kissed my temple, and rested his cheek on the top of my head. So he wasn’t completely resenting being here after all.

Sirius and I always did things for each other that we didn’t particularly want to do. We wanted each other to be happy, and it made our relationship stronger as a whole. I was awoken in the middle of the night to him leaving to go prank students with the other marauders and he went to nearly abandoned cinemas to watch films that he had no-to-negative feelings towards. It balanced out evenly.

Halfway through the movie (and also the bag of popcorn), Sirius’s arm that was resting across my shoulders made its way down to my hip. He leaned in to whisper into my ear.

“It’s not too late to get out of here. We could go out to a nice dinner, go for a romantic stroll through the park,” he drug out the ‘a’ in park, “anything. Anything you want.” Turning my full torso toward him, I cocked my head to the side as to say ‘why, why do you do this to me, Sirius Orion Black’. His expression was originally full of hope—hope that I thought this movie was as terrible as he’d predicted before we’d gotten here.

“Anything, huh?” His eyes filled with glee. But his face dropped immediately as I said:

“Well, I want to stay here.”

He went back to slouching in his chair, his head meeting the back of the headrest. I couldn’t stand seeing him act like this anymore. There was no way I was leaving this cinema until the film came to an end; but perhaps I could offer him a deal.

“If you stay until the end, I’ll do whatever you want afterwards.” A smirk form across his lips and I knew exactly what he had on his mind.

Moments later, I was once again engulfed in the film. The main characters had defied their near-impossible chances of being together, and the romantic/sexual portion came to its peak. I felt Sirius’s lips sneak below my earlobe and begin a trail to my collarbone. “I said afterwards, don’t be so eager,” I said placing my hand on his chest in an attempt to stay focused on what was happening between the characters.

“C’mon, even these poor bastards on screen are enjoying themselves. It’s like they’re mocking me.”

“Well I’m enjoying myself. And what, is ‘fucking in a movie theatre’ something you were planning to cross off of your bucket list before you die?”

“Well it wasn’t before but,—“ I cut him off with a look of disapproval. “There’s not anybody here, we’re sitting in the back. This is perfect!”

Before I could object, Sirius crashed his lips into mine. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I’d caused him to suffer—or at least act like he was suffering—for a few hours and I suppose I owed this to him. I wouldn’t be missing out on the movie much. It was like I was experiencing what they were doing, but they weren’t in an empty cinema, it was a bit more romantic on their end. However, I didn’t mind much.

Our kiss deepened as his tongue brushed over my bottom lip before it entered my mouth, exploring every corner. His hand lightly cupped my cheek.

I felt Sirius’s fingertips lightly brush over the slightly thin material of my trousers that separated the pads of his fingers from my inner thigh. In a swift manoeuvre, his fingertips slid under the waistband of my trousers and pulled them down, then danced along my skin, igniting sparks as they made their way to my heat. His middle finger slipped past the side of my panties and made firm circles over my clit.

I’d quickly decided not to make this about me. I’d wanted to show Sirius just how much I appreciated him being there, even if I’d practically forced him to.

I palmed his hardening member through his pants and dropped to my knees in front of him. As soon as I unbuttoned and unzipped his skin-tight black jeans, pulling his boxers down slightly, his erection sprung upright, slapping against his stomach. I bit my lip and looked up at him through my lashes lustfully. He shut his eyes, bracing himself for the warmth of my mouth wrapped around him.

I let the tip of my tongue flick over his slit, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.

“Fuck, don’t tease,” he groaned, loud enough for only me to hear over the booming cinema surround sound. The flat of my tongue glided over his head as I took the shaft into my hand and began stroking, feeling the veins on his thickness. With each bob of my head, I allowed him to venture deeper and deeper into my throat, hollowing my cheeks until I felt the need to gag. His fingers became entangled in my hair, but he let me go at my own pace. I altered my speed and pressure often which made it difficult for him to stifle his moans.

His hand gripped my hair tightly and he threw his head back onto the head rest, his mouth hanging open. I could taste the familiar flavor of his cum spread across my tongue and slide down my throat.

I stood up from the floor and lifted the armrest on Sirius’s left, allowing us more room. I straddled his lap backwards, his chest pressing against my back. The only thing separating us was the thin lace material of my panties. His right hand travelled up my torso, grazing my rib cage and kneading my breast gently. His left hand snaked around my thigh and pulled my panties to the side. He traced shapes roughly around my centre as I let my head fall back to rest on his shoulder.

He nipped at the sweet spot on my neck and I let out a light moan. As good as his fingers felt against me, I need more. I lifted myself up a bit and reached between us to position his hard cock at my entrance. Slowly lowering all the way back down, I gave myself time to adjust to his large size as he filled me to the brim. He continued massaging my throbbing nerves and I rested my hand over his, getting him to apply more pressure. Arching my back against his chest, I could already feel myself tightening around him and he felt it too. I could feel every muscle throughout his body contract. Every time I had sex with Sirius, it always felt like the first time.

Slightly angling myself to find my g-spot, I let out a muffled whimper and shut my eyes tight when I felt his head brush my

G-spot . I slowly began going up and down on his throbbing dick, grinding against him every time my ass met his crotch. With every motion, I felt my knees weaken a little more each time.

Sirius’s breath became harsh and uneven on my neck and I could tell that he couldn’t hold it much longer. Every individual muscle in my lower body starting in my toes began to tighten in a wave, one after another. The pleasure crept up into the pit of my stomach and I reached my high, becoming a shaking mess in Sirius’s lap. His warm load coated my walls and his fingers dug into my thighs, leaving light scratches.

Once I recovered from my orgasm, I noticed the credits of the film beginning to roll and the lights were returning to their original brightness. I collapsed back into my seat and Sirius struggled to reposition himself back into his jeans. I laughed at the sight of him.

“What?” he questioned continuing to fumble with his jeans.

“Maybe if your pants weren’t so tight Mr Black, you wouldn’t be having such a tough time right now,” I mocked him.

“Whatever, I just hope I don’t have as tough of time trying to get them off when we get home,” he grinned, “you did say afterwards, didn’t you?”

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edie-baby · 3 years

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Baby Boy Chapter 10 (S) | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (THIS CHAPTER TOO), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

Mila and Lando arrived back at the hotel where both of their teams were staying. Mila offered her room for their movie night as it had the privacy of the master bedroom where they could have some privacy in case Victoria was staying in tonight. However, as they approached the pair’s room, they saw Max sitting outside on his phone, a determined look on his face when he looked up and saw his target.

With a purposeful march, Max made it to Milana in a few seconds, and without warning, pulled her in by the waist and kissed her. Not wanting to interfere as the two weren’t together, Lando stood behind the pair, waiting for a reaction from Mila so that he could either pull Max away from her or go back to his own room alone. The former happened, as Mila’s arms were desperately swatting at Max’s chest to get him off her. Lando yelled out for Alex as he knew his best friend was staying on the same floor as Mila. Alex popped his head out and saw Lando pulling Max away from Milana.

“Hey mate, let’s get you to your room. I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Alex tried to calmly move the large driver back to his room without causing a scene with the already annoyed Mila and furious Lando. He got him far enough down the hall that Mila felt that she could pull Lando and herself into her room without risk of the raging bull of a RedBull driver coming barging into the room.

Lando was even angrier than when the two had left the restaurant. Mila wanted to calm him down, but truly had no idea how to as she and Lando didn’t know all that much about each other. Mila stood halfway across the room from Lando, close to the front door of the room, feeling comforted by the slightly enclosed space. He could feel her looking at him, not knowing what to do or say or think, but Lando needed to do something. His footsteps were quick as he crossed the room, merely two seconds from when he first made a move until when he was right in front of her.

Lando roughly grabbed the sides of Mila’s face and kissed her with all of the frustration, the passion, the anger, the desire, the need he had for her. Her lips tangled with his in a perfect duet, her hands holding tightly to his wrists. The two separated to breathe, and Lando took a step back, breathing heavily as he attempted to process what he had done. She had just been forcefully kissed by Max, and now here he was doing the exact same thing.

His spiralling thoughts were cut off by the collar of his sweater being roughly tugged closer to the floor, where he realised the shorter woman was begging for him to kiss her again. He did so, just as hard as the first kiss, their noses bumped, their teeth clashed at some point, but neither noticed nor cared. All that mattered was them, together, and him, and her. The kiss seemed to heat up even further, Mila’s hands tugging on the brown curls she adored so much while Lando’s hands travelled to the back of the girl’s thighs to pick her up, her legs wrapping around his waist before he drove them both into the wall, his hand cradled the back of her neck, his thumb putting pressure on the side of her jaw. He used his finger to turn her head, his kisses moving to her neck, immediately targeting her pulse point on the side of her neck. He began sucking hard on the skin, and Mila couldn’t help but cry out from the overwhelming pleasure. His hips ground into hers, using the wall as leverage so he could get even more friction between their bodies. He continued to suck blood to the surface of the skin on her neck and the small portion of exposed skin of her chest that he could access with her dress still on. His feverish kisses moved back to her lips while he carried her toward the closed bedroom door. He used one arm to support Mila’s weight, using the other to turn the handle of the door, he kicked the door shut behind them before turning to push Mila up against this door as well. His hands began travelling more, his hands squeezing her ass, hoisting her thighs up higher for a better angle to grind into her cunt. And all Mila wanted was to get his damn shirt and sweater off. He chuckled, pulling her away from the door to move to the bed. Lando dropped the short girl onto the bed, who immediately sat up on her knees to help Lando get his tops off. He pulled the sweater over his head in one movement, and Mila had to admit it was such a sexy thing, for absolutely no reason other than it was Lando doing it. Her fingers were shaking with anticipation as she popped each shirt button undone until Lando was standing there in an unbuttoned shirt, his tanned skin and muscular torso all for her to see. His hair was in disarray and his lips were swollen and she had never felt luckier.

Without wasting any more time, Mila pushed Lando’s shirt off his shoulders, watching as it fell to the floor. His biceps had grown even more since she had first met him, and without the hindrance of a shirt, she could finally appreciate them for all that they were. Lando, however, wasn’t much in the standing around mood. His lips reattached to Mila’s, and his hands made quick work of the zipper on the back of her dress. His calloused hands ran over her shoulders, down her arms, and then followed the curve of her waist to her hips where the material finally fell to a heap on the bed, pooling around her knees. Lando’s eyes took in her heaving chest, covered by a sheer and orange bra, complete with the matching panties.

“You’ll be the death of me, Princess.” Lando’s voice was deeper and raspier than Mila had ever heard it before. And the pet name had her soaking through her panties. Lando laid her back on the bed, his kisses becoming softer and sweeter. His hand slid beneath her back, his teeth latching onto her nipple through the material of the bra, making her back arch. He undid her clasp with one hand, his other already occupied with hitching her leg higher up on his waist to allow a better angle to grind down into her. The coarse material of his jeans provided the most blissful friction right against her clit, and a hungry moan left her throat. She tossed her bra across the room after finally getting her arms out of it. Lando sat up on his knees between her legs, admiring the woman beneath him.

Mila’s eyes were closed, her head back against the pillow as she attempted to catch her breath in the brief pause. Her arms reached out for Lando, desperate to run her hands through his hair, to feel the muscles in his back working to keep him above her. Lando had grabbed her hands and tied them above her to the headboard, much like she had done to Max and Daniel. Except she had never been restrained before, she had always been the one in control.

And suddenly, the conversation about why Lando had such a passion for driving flashed in her mind.

But it's exhilarating, having all of the power, being the one in charge. It fuels me.

Lando sat back on his knees again, enjoying the view of Mila all tied up and ready for him. The hungry look on her face told him she was enjoying it a lot more than she might have expected, and Lando was about to make damn sure she enjoyed herself.

Mila felt caged, like prey. With her arms tied tight above her head, and Lando’s arms now on either side of her head to support his weight, she suddenly knew exactly why people loved to be dominated. Lando was watching her face, studying her when he saw the change in her eyes. Her eyes changed from dark brown to almost black due to the size of her pupils. A cocky smirk formed on his lips as he let his lips brush over hers and quickly moved away before she could make contact with him. The meekest whimper left her lips, and all of the blood left in Lando’s head travelled straight to his cock.

Lando’s attention moved from Mila’s face to her neck, the roadmap of hickeys would need to be continued now that he had her dress off. His lips began at her collarbone, and from there travelled to the valley between her boobs, reaching over once or twice to leave a mark on her tits. He couldn’t resist flicking his tongue over her pierced nipples just to hear the whines she would let out, and god did they please him. He continued further down, across her stomach, the sensitive spot on her hip bone that deserved a nice, purple love bite.

The orange panties were just too cute. They perfectly matched the papaya of the McLaren, he’d have to ask her to wear this on Sunday while he races, you know, for good luck.

Lando’s index fingers hooked into the waistband of the panties, his cold metal ring brushing along her waist accidentally. A shaky gasp pulled his attention away from the task at hand, and he looked up only to immediately meet Mila’s eyes. She was watching him, enraptured. He sent her a wink and licked his bottom lip in a quick swipe. Mila let out another one of those pathetic little whimpers that sent a shiver down his spine and right to his throbbing cock.

He pulled the panties off in a swift motion, he wanted to taste her, needed to taste her. His large hands took their place on the inside of her thighs, parting them just enough to fit his head between. He sucked a quick love bite onto the inside of her left thigh, making eye contact with the Czech as he swiped his tongue up her folds for the first time.

“You taste so good, Princess. So fucking sweet.” Lando growled, diving back into her folds with his tongue, licking a wide stripe up until he felt a little metal ball. He looked up at Mila with a raised eyebrow, using his fingers to part her folds and take a peek at the piercing in her clit. Mila looked at him sheepishly, but Lando only looked even more excited. With the heavy eye contact again, he sucked her clit into his mouth, using the barbell of the piercing to twist and turn and get every angle he could get his tongue onto her clit. Mila was biting her lip so hard, he was sure it was about to bleed. He moved his head from her cunt to look at her with a disappointed look.

“I want everyone in this fucking hotel to know that you’re finally getting treated right. And by who.” Lando’s mouth was right next to her ear, telling her directly what he wanted from her. He caressed her cheek with his hand, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. She quickly took the finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and bobbing her head as much as she could. Lando swiped two fingers through her folds before bringing them up to her mouth and whispering to her.

“Taste yourself Princess.”

Mila gladly took his fingers again, working them with everything that she had, and he watched her in admiration as she looked up at him with those eyes. Mila released his fingers with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his middle finger to her bottom lip. He swiped his finger across her left nipple and blew cold air onto it, and Mila moaned freely.

Lando left wet kisses from her tits to her cunt, picking up exactly where he left off, his tongue working her clit while his fingers teased her entrance, hearing the whimpers from Mila only spurred him on further. He slid his middle finger in, curling it, stretching and preparing her for the second while still stimulating her clit and that lovely little piercing. Mila’s moans now where growing in volume. Lando added a second finger, scissoring them, then curling toward himself to brush over her G-spot, his fingers working in perfect time with his tongue to create a symphony of whimpers, moans and Czech curses falling off of her maroon lips. Her moans were as loud as yelling now, and he was sure the surrounding rooms would be hearing her already, and Lando was only just getting warmed up.

He added a third finger, continuing his coordinated movements, brushing up against the bundle of nerves ever so often to elicit a particularly loud moan. His eyes were locked on hers, his tongue still devouring her clit and folds. Lando decided to step it up a notch, and snaked his free hand around the outside of Mila’s leg to allow his fingers to rub her clit with a pace his tongue simply didn’t have. Mila’s moans quickly turned to a higher pitch, growing louder with each one as Lando’s fingers continued to scissor within her, his other hand rubbing her clit and putting pressure on it, while his tongue added stimulation to her clit.

“Fuck, Lando. I’m gonna cum. You’re so fucking good. Oh fuck!” Mila spoke each phrase between moans and pants. Lando increased his pace even more and had Mila screaming in pleasure in a few moments. Her vision had gone white, and a blinding hot feeling had covered her body. It seemed to light up every neuron in her body with a newfound purpose, and she wondered if sex was always supposed to feel like this.

Lando helped her ride out her orgasm, slowing his fingers to a slow pace, and stopping his assault on her clit. As Mila caught her breath and came back to reality, Lando licked his fingers clean, Mila caught the last few seconds, and figured it was safe as she would have cum again had she watched him from beginning to end.

“You were so good, Princess. You let the whole floor know just how good I can make you feel, but I want the entire hotel to know. You think you can help me with that baby?” Lando asked, Mila was still mentally recovering from her world shattering first orgasm, she didn’t know if she could take another. But she needed him. God, she wanted him too.

It was torture for Mila to watch Lando undo his jeans, and slide them and his Calvin’s down without being able to touch him. She wanted to taste him, wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him. He granted her wishes quite quickly, as after he rolled a condom on, he ran his tip up and down her folds, sighing in pleasure at the sensation. He pushed into her slowly, pulling her legs further up his waist. He bottomed out and leaned down to kiss her slowly, pouring his true feelings into the kiss. She returned it, the same emotion flowing between them.

Mila wiggled her hips, urging Lando to move. He slowly pulled almost all the way out, and then snapped his hips to meet hers, burying himself to the hilt again. A cry tore from Mila’s throat as Lando set his pace, snapping his hips to meet hers at a bruising speed. Mila’s moans were high pitched, loud, and frequent, she wasn’t even trying to make the hotel hear her, but if Lando kept up with this, they were sure as hell going to know.

Lando hoisted Mila’s legs onto his shoulders so her could drive deep down into her, and for the first time all night, he let his hand close around her throat. As soon as he did, Mila’s eyes rolled back into her head, her moans even louder than before. Lando could feel himself slipping to the edge with the pace and angle he was at, and he knew Mila would get there, but he needed her to have the world’s best orgasm, because he was in control now. With one hand, he began undoing the belt that held her wrists to the headboard. His hips still snapping at the same pace, Mila barely knew what was going on due to the pleasure pouring into her body at a high rate of knots.

Lando pulled out and turned Mila onto her front. She quickly got up onto her knees and leaned her shoulders and face into the mattress, her back arched at an angle that would give Lando a hard-on any time of day. He lined up with her entrance, his hands grabbing onto her hips with a bruising grip. He slid into her easily due to how wet she was, and this new angle allowed for a much faster pace. Mila was screaming in pleasure now, her moans no longer expressive enough of the wondrous job Lando was doing. He felt himself nearing the edge, after waiting to touch himself for so long, he knew he wouldn’t last a long time, especially if Mila kept clenching around him like she was. Lando reached forward and grabbed Mila’s hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could hold her to his chest while fucking up into her.

The added hair pulling was the last push over the edge, and Mila fell back against Lando, who was basically being milked by Mila’s cunt, and came as well. If Mila thought her first orgasm was Earth-shattering, there were absolutely no words to describe what had just happened to her. It took multiple minutes for the both of them to come back down to Earth and rejoin reality. Lando was laid beside Mila, still slightly out of breath. He stood up to throw the condom in the bin, then reached his arms out for Mila to grab onto.

“C’mon baby, let’s have a shower. You’re not going to wake up early to have one before your breakfast with Vic. Plus, we’re a bit sweaty.” Lando giggled as Mila looked up at him with an incredulous look. He pulled her up from the bed, planting a sweet kiss to her lips before leading her into the bathroom. Lando stepped aside to turn the shower on and get it up to temperature, leaving Mila in front of the large bathroom mirror. She gasped and looked on, horrified, at her neck and chest. Every inch of her neck and collarbones were covered in hickeys, along with a trail of them leading to and from each boob. She looked accusatory at Lando, waving her pointer finger in the air at him like a mother.

“It’s not that bad, at least Max will get the hint now.” Lando growled, pulling Mila closer to his chest. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her for another kiss. The water was finally at what Lando deemed the ‘perfect temperature’ and as they got in, Mila understood exactly why. She felt the sex scum wash off of her immediately, and felt more relaxed than she had since she arrived in Austria. Lando and Mila helped cover each other in bubbles before washing off and getting into a bit of a water fight in the process. They climbed out, drying off with the overly fluffy hotel towels, and climbed into bed naked, wanting to enjoy each other as much as possible before Lando had to focus on the race weekend.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #team lando #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris smut #mclaren f1 #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #call me eden

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silverwhiteraven · 3 years

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Wings of Broken White - Ch. 10

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 9 ] [ Chapter 11 ]

[ Summary: End of School picnic preparations! ]

To celebrate the class’s successful final project, they were putting together plans for a large picnic in the park at the end of the last day of school. The last day wasn’t mandatory for students to attend unless they had work to catch up on or tests to make up. So Marinette was spending that time at home, busying herself in the upstairs kitchen, preparing food and treats.

A faint knocking sound distracted her a couple hours in, and after making sure she could walk away without anything burning, listened for the source. She gasped and smiled when she realized it was coming from above her, from her own room. The balcony! Chat must be here!

She ran up to her room and up to the lost, and sure enough, she could see Chat Blanc, seated on the balcony floor next to the trapdoor. She pushed it open quickly, and he perked up, his tail flicking and wings spreading out behind him excitedly.

“Princess! You came!” He smiled wide.

Marinette giggled and pulled herself up to sit next on the edge of the hatch. “But of course, I can’t just leave my Knight outside like a stray now can I?” He laughed at that and she hid her smile behind her hand. “So what are you doing here, gryphlet?”

“Well you see,” he flourished a hand dramatically as he spoke, “I heard that today of all days was your last day of collège, and I wanted to congratulate you. So here I am.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You sure it’s not because I'm cooking? If you heard about it being our last day, then there's no way you didn't hear that we’re planning a picnic later, too.”

He gasped dramatically, setting a clawed hand to his chest like he had been hurt. It did nothing to erase the cute smile on his face, though. “You doubt my intentions, Princess? Well, you are right to do so,” he sighed dramatically. “Indeed, I am not just here to congratulate and shower you in praise, but to rob you of your goodies. Forgive this dashing rogue of his glutinous ways?”

He fluttered his eyes at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. “You are forgiven, on one condition,” she raised her hand, index finger raised to indicate her one condition.

“Name it,” he leaned in, looking ready to do anything.

“Help me with the baking and cooking for later,” she stated simply with a coy smile. “You can eat a portion of anything you make yourself. That’s the means for you to get fed. Deal?”

“Deal!” He hopped to his feet with a big grin and she gently laughed, happy to see his energy. She led him back down into her room and then into the kitchen.

She quickly checked on everything, making sure nothing had burned while she was gone. Satisfied, she waved Chat Blanc to join her at the counter. His previously excited mood was replaced by slight nervousness. He looked unfamiliar with the layout, though his eyes sparked with curiosity. Marinette tried not to stare as she cleared her throat and started introducing him to the ingredients and tools. “Now, don’t touch anything just yet,” she added when she finished showing him around. “Cooking has ground rules you should always follow.”

“Like a chemistry lab?” His ears flicked and wings shuffled, and she giggled, nodding.

“Yep, just like a chemistry lab. First, let's get you an apron.” She grabbed one of the hooks by the stairs, and as she went to toss the neck strap over his head, she noticed the decal on the front. Kiss the Cook. She blushed and turned it backwards, swiftly putting it on Chat before he could see. Now the decal was hidden from view and she wouldn't have to think about it. She then went behind him to tie the waist strap, but paused as she looked at his wings in the way.

“Something wrong?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your wings...These aprons are usually for my parents. I only use them when my wings are bound,” she said quietly, a bit awkward and unsure.

“Oh,” he replied softly. Her breath caught and she stepped back as his wings moved. They dropped slightly, only to completely fold up, pull against his back. He smiled at her gently over his shoulder. “Better? As long as you don’t tie it too tightly, I’ll be purrfectly comfortable like this.

Dropping her head to hide another blush, she nodded, coming closer and tying the apron. “So, uhm, next thing. Always keep your hands- uh, talons, washed.” He chuckled at her fumbled pun but nodded and went to the sink. She mentally facepalmed, knowing it would be awkward to wash gloves.

She carried on instructing him, meanwhile trying to keep to the edge of his vision until her flustering calmed down. She made sure he knew never to cross contaminate foods, to always clean the work area as they went, and continue to wash hands frequently. She scolded him when the oven timer went off and he almost reached in without proper hand protection. He was sheepish about it, but to her satisfaction, he didn’t make the mistake again.

At some point, she hadn't noticed the amount of flour dusting him because of how well it blended in. She only realized it when he had patted her head in reassurance that he could do a task without help now. The pat left a white handprint in her midnight hair, and she guffawed indignantly when she noticed it in her reflection on a mixing bowl. She didn’t bother trying to get it off, though, knowing it was pointless.

Finally, with quiche, pasta salad, croissants, and macaroons all done after a few more hours of working together, they were now sitting on the floor, waiting for the bread rolls to finish. The dishes and counters were already clean, the aprons were back where they belonged, and Marinette had even let out her wings to stretch them out alongside Chat Blanc’s. She tried not to think about their feathers brushing as they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the oven like a pair of tired but happy hawks.

Chat started humming as they sat in comfortable silence, and she listened to the gentle sound. It was enhanced by a subtle purr, and she had to hold her breath to keep from giggling at the cuteness of the moment.

When he stopped, she asked in a whisper, “What song was that?”

“Hm? Oh,” he smiled softly and rubbed his neck. “A lullaby my mother used to sing. ‘Robin and his Maiden’. I made my own little parody of it not long after I got my Miraculous. Well, I only managed to do the first line, really, I'm stuck on the rest.”

Marinette sat up, attention caught. “Tell it to me, I want to hear.”

He hesitated, a blush under his mask indicating it was from shyness and not from doubt. “The original first line went like this: Little Robin on a roof, without his Maiden. The story is about Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Now I say it like this: Little Kitty on a roof, without his Lady.” Marinette giggled, realizing the comparison to her alter ego. “I’m stuck on the rest, because the story doesn't seem to quite fit with the changed names, you know?”

With a nod of understanding, she nudged his shoulder with her own. “Art is hard, I know. It’s okay to be stuck. You should try playing with the names a bit, maybe the rest will come to you along with fresh inspiration.”

He nodded and looked away, back to the oven as he began to hum again. Soon, the hums turned to words. “Little Gryphon on a roof, all alone without his Princess,” he gave a cheshire grin as she burst out in laughter and a fresh fluster. She pushed him over and he laughed as he flopped on the floor. She stood up and huffed, hiding her smile as she checked on the bread. The timer went off just in time, and, feeling satisfied with their golden brownness, she took them out and set them to cool on the counter.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. “Everything is done in time, that’s good. The picnic is in an hour.” She turned to Chat with a soft smile. “Without fail, I always end up late to meet-ups because I put way too much on my plate right before hand. Looks like I’ll be on time this year. I couldn't have done this without you, Blanc.”

He smiled back at her from his place on the floor, looking perfectly content to be there as he practically basked in her thanks. She laughed, feeling light and newly carefree. When they lulled back into comfortable silence, he sat up and looked at the clock himself. A sad smile replaced his normal one.

“Looks like I need to go before then. I have somewhere to be later, too.” He stood, brushing the last of the flour off his white suit, his wings fluttering as they too shook out little puffs of powder. Marinette nodded and joined him, leading him back upstairs and out onto her balcony.

“Thank you for stopping by, gryphlet. I had fun,” she looked away, smiling to herself. “And don’t forget these, your promised treats for helping.” She handed him a cardboard pastry box, containing a few of the goods they had made together.

He beamed at her as he accepted it, and then took her hand in his and bowed. “It was my pleasure, Princess.” He kissed the air above her knuckles and she giggled, struck breathless by his action. He straightened back up and let her go, smiling wide. “I’ll see you again soon.”

And just like that, he was leaping from her balcony and gliding away on wings that matched the sky and clouds.

It took her a little while to go back inside, having taken her time to be dazed as she processed the last few hours. Tikki had broken her out of it with barely restrained giggles and a reminder that they needed to get ready for the picnic with her class.

As expected, the hour passed by quickly after that, and with a little help from her parents, all of Marinette and Chat Blanc’s efforts were brought to the park and set out on tables alongside everyone else’s contributions.

Everyone in their class made it to the park, and a few had even dragged along some family members who were willing to celebrate with them. Many of them spent the whole picnic talking about the school year, and all the random moments that stuck in their minds. Hawkmoth and some Akumas were brought up at some point, and almost half an hour was subsequently spent on everyone acting out each other's Akumatized versions in light and welcomed jest.

When it all started to dwindle to a close, everyone spent time making summer plans together and discussing which lycées they were going to. It was sad to think that their group, together for four years strong, was going to be split up. Luckily, everyone had plans to join extracurricular school groups that were likely to have them meeting up just as often as before. Even their humanitarian projects like planting public trees and gardens was something they were excited to continue.

If anything, they all knew that distance wasn’t going to make their bonds any lesser.

And so, all in all, Marinette had a good time, and she felt ready to keep going into the future.

#marichatmay2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat blanc #ml wing au #wing-binding #willowbendt

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spoon-writes · 3 years

Text

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 16

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse and soon they travel across the galaxy, looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 16 - Sinead Get Your Gun

"Stop! I'll do it!"

The yellow orb stopped a few centimeters from Sinead's face.

The Master's lips curled into an imitation of a smile and stepped back, extinguishing the yellow light. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Sinead let out a shaky breath. The room suddenly felt ice cold.

"Let her go!" Mando was straining against the guards holding him back.

"Certainly. As soon as you're done with the fight, you're both free to go."

"Now."

The Master chuckled. "That's not possible, I'm afraid. What's to stop you from trying to escape if we don't have some … collateral. I assure you she'll be perfectly safe."

She wished she could see Mando's face. He didn't look at her.

"If anything happens to her …"

The Master's smile grew wider.

"You have my word.

… … … … …

Sinead was dragged to another room a few doors down. It was smaller and bare except for a chair sitting in front of the window. The glass, which spanned the room, wasn't flawless but had a seam running down through the middle. One guard pushed her down on the chair with a rough order not to move. He needn't bother; all but two guards had left with Mando and the Master, but these two were armed to the teeth, and her entire body still felt like jelly that had been forced through a sieve.

The crowd wasn't happy about the delay, and she could feel, as well as hear, their anger through the thick glass.

"He needs to get on with it if he doesn't want a riot on his hands," said the Duros guard.

The Weequay guard grunted. "Ungrateful bastards. The Master's givin' them something to gawk at for decades, least they could do is shut up an' let him do it."

"Let's hope your Mandalorian is up for the task," the Duros said, brushing a cold finger along the back of Sinead's neck, and she flinched to the side.

The guards laughed, and Sinead ignored them. This was all her fault, but there had to be a way to fix it.

Breathe.

"Look likes the Ringmaster's ready," said the Duros, his raspy voice nearly drowned out by the screaming crowd as the Nautolan stepped up on the platform.

"LADIES AND GENTS, WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY. TURNS OUT WE HAVE A NEW CHALLENGER COME TO TEST HIS METTLE AGAINST THE ULTIMATE FIGHTER! WILL THIS STRANGER LEAVE WITH HONOR OR WILL HIS BLOOD DRENCH THE SAND!"

Sinead swallowed thickly, her stomach turning at the thought of the kid waiting for them back at the ship.

"FIRST, WE HAVE OUR REIGNING CHAMPION FROM THE DEEP JUNGELS OF KASHYYYK, THE BLOODIED, THE DARKNESS FROM RWOOKRRORRO, UANNKA THE WOOKIEE!"

A Wookiee appeared sprinting up a ramp, long legs quickly carrying him to the middle of the arena. His brown fur was shorter than most Wookiee's and he wore an intricate helmet that glinted in the sharp light. One paw held a heartlance as long as his body. He lifted it to thunderous applause.

The Duros' coarse laugh filled the room. "Your man is kriffed going up against the champion."

"Bet the Master is tryin' to kill him. No one stands a chance against the Bloodied," said the Weequay.

She tried tuning them out while her mind spun wildly out of control. Mando could take care of himself, but even he would get overpowered eventually. She doubted the Master would ever let them go even if Mando managed to get out of the arena alive.

The Ringmaster continued, "THE CHALLENGER TODAY DESCENDS FROM A PROUD WARRIOR RACE NOW MERELY A DYING ECHO IN THE GALAXY. WILL THIS ONE LIVE UP TO THE REPUTATION OF HIS ANCESTORS? BEHOLD, THE MANDALORIAN!"

Mando walked slowly up the ramp, every movement careful and calculated in stark contrast to the Wookiee, who swung his heartlance and roared so loudly that Sinead felt the air's vibrations.

They met in the middle where Mando motionlessly watched Uannka pace back and forth in the sand, puffing out his chest and roaring.

The Weequay leaned against the glass. "Look at that little shiv they've given him."

Sinead strained her eyes and saw that Mando was indeed wielding a blade barely a foot long, nothing compared to Uannka's force pike.

"Probably not even vibro."

"Barely fit to gut a gwerp."

Down on the arena floor, Uannka stopped pacing and was staring down Mando, who didn't move a muscle while Uannka blustered.

"WHO WILL EMERGE VICTORIOUS AND WHO WILL PROVE UNWORTHY?

LET THE FIGHTING BEGIN!"

It happened so fast. Barely had the echo died away before Uannka grabbed his heartlance in both hands and swung it at Mando, who twisted out of the way. The lance hit the ground and threw a cloud of sand up in the air.

They circled each other. Uannka lashed out again, and Mando stepped to the side, grabbing the lance as it passed his head. Uannka kicked out and caught Mando in the stomach, sending him sprawling on the sand.

Uannka followed and lifted his weapon.

Mando hurled a fistful of sand into the Wookiee's face. Uannka roared, and Mando rolled to his feet in one fluid motion. He dashed forward and sliced Uannka across the chest.

The blade barely broke the skin.

"See," Duros laughed. "Not even vibro."

Uannka jumped away and struck with his lance; it glanced off Mando's beskar pauldron.

"When he dies, you think she's going in the ring?" The Duros said.

"Won't put up much of a fight, will she?"

Sinead dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.

A tinny voice coming from the Weequay forced Sinead back in the moment.

"Hey, Tyrsk!"

The Weequay scowled and pulled out a comlink. "This better be important," he spat, "The fight's started."

"We got a problem out here with one of the sponsors."

"Yeah? What's it got to do with me? I'm watchin' the prisoner."

"Just get your bony ass out here! We about to have a pissed off Wookiee on our hands."

Sinead sat still as a statue, trying to look as small and harmless as possible.

Tyrsk heaved a sigh. "Fine, I'm comin'. Don't get et before I get there." He looked at the Duros. "Make sure she doesn't move."

The Duros chuckled and fiddled with his blaster. "What's she gonna do? She's just a human girl."

"Just don't let her out of your sight, okay?" Tyrsk stomped across the floor, his pale eyes boring a hole into Sinead's back. "Need to do everything myself," he muttered before the door slammed shut behind him.

Now it was just Sinead and the Duros in the small room and his presence was a heavy weight beside her. Her ears prickled whenever he moved.

She wet her lips. "What ... what did this room use to be?"

"Shut it," the Duros said harshly and flicked her ear.

"It's odd having an empty room up here, is all, surrounded by all this wealth."

"I told you to shut it." The Duros' voice was deceptively calm. "Another word out of you, and I'll feed you to the akk dogs downstairs, ya hear? Just sit there and watch your Mandalorian be turned into ground beef."

Down on the arena floor, Mando went low and drew his blade across Uannka's thigh. The Wookiee fell to one knee to the crowds' delight. Blood dripped from the weapon as Mando backed out of reach.

"FIRST BLOOD HAS BEEN SPILLED!" The Ringmaster screamed.

Uannka got up and thundered towards Mando, roaring so loudly that Sinead felt it in her bones.

Her heart stuttered to a halt.

The heartlance glanced off Mando's armor, throwing sparks into the air. Uannka kept going, his momentum too strong.

He crashed into Mando, and they both went down.

Time slowed as neither of them moved. This was it. He was dead and she was next. A strangled sob escaped her as she though of the kid, waiting for them, not knowing that he would never see Mando again …

Uannka rolled over, and Mando slowly got to his feet. His blade was buried to the hilt in the Wookiee's chest.

The crowd exploded. There was no other word for it. They howled and screamed, jumping up and down until it felt like the arena was shaking.

Sinead let out a breathless laugh. He did it!

The Master watched silently from his throne.

"WHAT A SHOW! THE MANDALORIAN HAS TRULY PROVED HIMSELF TO BE A WORTHY OPPONENT! BUT WHAT WILL HE DO AGAINST A FEARSOME PREDATOR BRED IN THE DESERT OF FLORRUM?"

Mando scrambled back as a large portion of the arena fell away, and a scaly head appeared from the darkness. A long, gnarled body lumbered up the ramp.

Sinead had only seen an Oolo once before, in the palace on Sriluur. It had been a gift from Jabba to Slezza and had killed five palace guards before someone managed to put it down.

"Well, if the Bloodied didn't kill him …" the Duros snickered.

Once the Oolo was entirely out in the open, it reared back and hissed. It looked like a boulder come to life. Its battering-ram sized tail swung from side to side.

Mando dashed across the sand towards Uannka's heartlance.

Both Sinead and the Duros jumped when the door opened, and a new guard stuck his head through the crack.

"We need your help," he said, panting slightly. "The Wookiee's gone mad, we can't control him."

"Get someone from the lower levels to do it."

"They're out doing crowd control or dealing with the Mandalorian. C'mon, man!"

Once again, Sinead looked as small as possible. Please, please, please, I'm no threat to you. Leave!

The Duros opened his mouth but was cut off by a deep roar that did not come from the arena.

"Kriff!" the guard looked down the hall and his face paled. "Just lock the door behind her, what's she gonna do in an empty room?" He slammed the door shut just as another roar split the air.

The Duros pulled her up and checked her pockets for anything that could help her escape. When he didn't find anything, he pushed her back into the chair. "If you've moved so much as a centimeter when I come back, I'll throw you into the Pit. Understand?"

As soon as the door clicked shut, she sprang into action; she wedged the chair under the door even though it wouldn't be much of a challenge for an angry Duros, it could buy her a bit more time. Next, she circled the room, running a hand across the wall, checking for any gap or crack, but it was solid all the way around.

Years of use had turned the carpet into a brownish color instead of deep red, and scuff marks outlined where there once had been heavy furniture. Whatever the room had been, it was now empty, and it didn't look like they'd left anything behind when they cleared it out.

A boom shook the building. Sinead dashed across the floor to look down into the arena: the Oolo lifted its tail and smashed it into the ground, throwing up a tidal-wave of sand where it hit. Mando threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding getting pulverized.

Sinead fell to her knees. There had to be a way out.

The Oolo reared round and tried to squash Mando with its tail again. The window rattled, and she noticed that a small gap had appeared between the wall and the glass.

With shaking hands, she grabbed the frayed rug and pulled. It came away easily and bared the cold stone floor beneath. Once it was gone, she discovered that the glass ran on a small track that looked like it hadn't been used for a long time. A tiny keyhole was set into the sliding.

Was it for maintenance? It looked old and forgotten, the guards certainly hadn't been aware of it, otherwise they wouldn't have left her alone.

She pulled out two carpet pins and jammed them into the hole. Blood pounded in her ears and she shot a frantic look over her shoulder at the door. She kept losing her grip on the pins. One snapped and she threw it across the room.

"C'mon," she whispered, wiping her sweaty brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, the mechanism clicked in place and the glass moved a centimeter before getting stuck with a grinding sound.

Sinead jammed her fingers into the crack and heaved, ignoring her screaming muscles.

Slowly, the window moved.

The deafening noise from the crowd nearly knocked her back. Thousands of voices joined together to make an unintelligible howl.

A narrow ledge ran alongside the window just wide enough for her to walk on without falling to her death.

Down in the arena, the Oolo brought its front legs down on the ground with a resounding boom. Mando jumped out of its field of vision, and it reared back, its big yellow eyes scanning the arena.

Mando appeared beneath the Oolo. The creature hissed when it saw him, spitting globs of venom. Its eyes narrowed.

Sinead couldn't look away.

As the Oolo came down, Mando thrust the lance between the Oolo's armored plates between its front legs. Its scream reverberated in Sinead's head.

She took a deep breath and stepped out on the worn stone. The air was hot and dry. It felt like she was back on Sriluur. A metallic smell of blood permeated everything.

Pressing herself against the cold, smooth glass, she inched her way along the ledge, hoping that the rooms would be empty.

A shriek went through the crowd, and Sinead instinctively looked down; she'd never been scared of heights, but the fact that the only thing standing between her and a deadly drop was a couple of centimeters of crumbling stone made her head spin and her mouth taste like cobber.

Mando backed up as three nexu stalked across the sand, their wide mouths open in a terrible grin.

She tore her eyes away to concentrate on the perilous walk. As long as nobody looked up, she would make it. Had the two guards discovered that she had escaped?

Suddenly the glass fell away, and she tumbled into the repository, or whatever it was. The world spun as she buried her fingers in the carpet, allowing herself to feel the solid ground before getting to her feet. The floor was littered with broken glass and ancient weapons which had yet to be cleared away. She grabbed a strange looking blaster on her way across the floor and concealed it under the back of her shirt. Pressing an ear to the door, she tried to still her beating heart enough to hear. There were sounds of running feet and anther ear-splitting roar; so Feyvik was still going.

She peeked into the corridor. Sounds of fighting just around the corner made her run the opposite direction. She had no idea where she was running to, only that she had to get out of there.

Shadows appeared on the wall, and her heart stopped.

A door opened next to her, and with a quick decision, she shoved it open and dove inside. A terrified servant yelped, and Sinead clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh!" She hissed, shooting a frightened look at the door. It sounded like a whole battalion sprinted by outside.

The room was a small kitchen, a stone counter and an unlit heater the only furniture. A door led into another room.

The servant shook under Sinead's hand.

A distinct Wookiee roar cut through the air and gave Sinead an idea.

"What are you doing here?" She ripped her hands away.

"I-I was just-"

"There's a Wookiee running rampant on this floor! We have to get out of here! Now!"

The servant's legs gave out under her, and Sinead had to grab her again to keep her from falling.

"Listen-"Sinead hauled her to the nearest counter and sat her down- "who else is up here?"

The servant blubbered, and Sinead shook her. For the plan to work, she had to keep the servant off balance. "Well?"

"I'm the only one up here. The Master-"

"Is there another way out of here? The stairs aren't safe." For me, anyway.

The pale servant nodded slowly and pointed a shaking finger at a metal square set into the wall. Sinead pressed a button beside it, and it opened to reveal a small lift, barely big enough for a person.

"Where does it lead to?"

"Kitchen down in the Undercroft. The big one."

"Right." Sinead crossed the floor and grabbed the servant. "In you go."

"W-what? I can't fit in there!"

Another roar sounded closer than before.

"You'd rather stay?"

Sinead helped the servant squeeze into the lift. Once she was tucked in, Sinead's finger hovered over the down button. "When you get down there, you need to tell everyone to run. Master's orders."

"But why would he-"

"Have you ever seen what an angry Wookiee can do to a person? Do you want to?"

The servant looked like she was about to faint.

"Remember! You have to run."

Once the lift closed, she had to work fast on some kind of distraction.

A stack of crates in the corner grabbed her attention and she tore the lid away and peered inside, finding dark bottles packed in sawdust. She turned one of the bottles over. Cassandran Choholl. Very useful. Very flammable.

She grabbed as many bottles as she could carry and kicked open the other door, hoping the servant was right when she said that she was alone. The door opened into a study, the only light coming from the window. It seemed that care had been taken to make the room completely soundproof, as the constant hum from the crowd faded away as soon as she stepped inside.

She threw one of the bottles as hard as she could. It flew through the air and landed on the desk, smashing into a thousand pieces. The air was filled with a sharp, sweet smell that made Sinead's nose itch.

The rest of the bottles followed. The last one was upended on the floor,

trailing back

to the door, which she propped open with a vase. Even if she ended up dying, there was a sort of solace to be found in the fact that she had wasted more credits than she would ever see in a lifetime in just a minute.

She needed fire. Every cabinet under the counter was thrown open and the content pulled out on the floor. Her mouth was dry as she frantically tried to find anything useful. It was clear this kitchen was rarely used. At least not for any fire-making purposes.

A sack at the very back of a cupboard fell over and spilled a small amount of white powder on the floor. As she pulled it out, a cloud of white whirled into the air. Flour. She could use that.

The lift whirred as it reached the kitchen down below. Sinead punched the button to call it back. That done, she flung the sack around, coating the entire room in flour. It rose like a wave around her, coating the inside of her mouth and nose. For a moment, it was all she could see.

The ancient heater groaned as she turned a knob and a small, blue flame appeared between the scorched metal.

As soon as the lift appeared, she threw herself into the small space. The last thing she saw before the lift doors closed was the cloud of flour growing bigger and the lone flame flickering on the heater. She had to curl up to fit in the lift, her knees pressed against her chest and her head bent at an unnatural angle. The contraception whirred and shook violently. The lift became smaller and smaller. Her clothes stank of Choholl, the smell enough to make her dizzy.

Just as the cold fingers of panic had closed around her throat, the doors opened. She rolled out onto the cold stone floor. The kitchen was empty.

She was picking herself up from the floor when a boom shook the building, and a blast of hot air shot out of the open lift, which jumped, and the rope holding it snapped, sending it falling into the darkness with a crash.

There were screams from up above and thunderous footsteps on the other side of the door. Once they died away, she stole into the stairwell.

The undercroft was in complete chaos. Panicked shouts filled the big chamber, workers dashed between each other, hauling ropes or cages across the floor.

No one noticed an extra person join in the confusion.

Most of the remaining workers were prepping three akk dogs to be sent up. The creatures snarled and snapped at anyone getting too close to their cages.

Sinead's eyes were drawn to the holoprojector by the large control panel showing a translucent Mando running from the last nexu. The other two lay dead beside the Oolo.

All the guards were gone, and she still had the strange blaster; taking out the lone worker operating the controls would be easy. Until someone attacked her with an electro whip, that is.

Instead, she hurried into the adjacent chamber where the caged slaves were up and whispering amongst themselves. Fear and confusion hung in the air.

Only two guards were walking back and forth between the cages. One of them brought his electrostaff down on the bars, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

"Shut up!" he bellowed.

She found Belan and slunk up beside the cage.

"You're alive," he whispered, wrinkling his brows when he saw her flour-covered appearance. "The explosion, that was you?"

"No time," she ground out. "Need you to distract the guards."

"How?"

"Figure something out."

She moved back into the shadows as he pushed his way to the top of the cage and waited until one of the guards was right beside him. His hands shot out and grabbed the guard, slamming him against the bars.

"Get off me, you little whelp!" The guard tried to snatch his blaster, but new hands grabbed his arms and held them down.

"Hey! Let him go!" the other guard ran forwards, brandishing his electrostaff.

Sinead pulled out the blaster, took aim, and fired.

A small projectile exploded out of the blaster with an ear-splitting bang and an acrid smell of chemicals. The kickback almost wrenched it out of her hand.

The guard stumbled and fell to the ground.

A dirty hand snaked around the last guard and grabbed his blaster, and he went down with a strangled scream, a smoking hole in his back.

"Get us out of here!" someone screamed.

Wires ran from all the cages to a mechanism bolted on the wall, with a simple lever that she grabbed and pulled. Every door beeped and slid to the side simultaneously. Soon the chamber was filled with thin bodies clamoring towards the sewer entrance, nearly lifting Sinead off her feet. She was shoved against a hitherto unseen workstation hidden between the cages, the sharp edge cutting into her hip. Cards from a game of sabacc were scattered across the surface.

She was about to fight her way through the crowd when something peeking out from under the workstation caught her eye and she pulled it out.

An old datapad fell into her hands, one of those without any light that flickered to a new page when you pressed a small button at the bottom of the screen. In the dimly lit chamber all she could make out was a long list of names and a number. She shoved it under her shirt and out of the way.

Panic spread among the newly freed captives as the sewer remained shut. Sinead was shoved as some of the group turned and ran for the tunnel, spilling into the main chamber. Sounds of fighting reached her, and she fought her way through the mass of bodies.

Most of the workers ran when the slaves appeared; some grabbed the nearest weapon, but they didn't stand a chance against the press of panicked people. Sinead watched as a worker brandishing an electro-whip was swarmed until he turned and ran.

Sinead made her way to the control panel. Panic from the freed slaves and her own fear made her vision blur.

The translucent Mando was still alive, but the last nexu was nearing, and he had lost the lance. When it came too close, he shot a burst of fire from his gauntlet that made the nexu rear back before the flame died away.

She looked over the control panel. There were so many buttons and levers.

The akk dogs howled.

"Screw this," she mumbled and pressed a big red button.

The mechanisms groaned as the three cages were lifted into the air. A portion of the ceiling slid down.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" She watched horrified as the creatures lumbered up the ramps to thunderous applause.

On the holoprojector, Mando threw himself to the side at the last second, and the nexu tore into one of the akk dogs, the nexu's long claws ripping into its flanks.

She started slapping the console, eyes fixed on the hologram, her breath coming out in shallow bursts. Cages opened and closed. Some were lifted high in the air or slammed into the ground.

Suddenly, a section of the ceiling fell away, and the Mandalorian rolled into the chamber in a cascade of sand.

… … … … …

Din's lungs were burning. He inched back, keeping an eye on the nexu, acutely aware that he was surrounded.

So this was how it would end. He hoped Sinead made it back to the ship, got the kid out of there. He tried to push the thought away.

The nexu crouched and opened its maw, emitting a foul stench of death and decay.

He wouldn't go down without a fight. The pain in his arm where another nexu had gotten him died away as his heart rate slowed.

This is the way.

The nexu pounced, and the ground vanished under his feet.

Din rolled backward down the ramp until suddenly he was falling. He crashed into the ground, knocking every last breath out of his chest.

The world spun. He tried to get up, but a weight landed on his chest, sharp claws tearing into his already wounded arm.

Something exploded above him and the weight disappeared.

He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

"Mando? Oh, please don't be dead."

Slowly, his vision cleared.

"Sinead?" He gasped out with his first breath.

"Thank the stars!" Her forehead hit his chest plate for a moment before she got up and pulled him with her. "We have to run!"

Muscles shook as he got to his feet. "… the … records-"

"No time!" She kept a hold on his uninjured hand and pulled him along.

As his head was clearing, he noticed that the chaos around them, empty cages and creatures fighting among themselves.

They ran up a flight of stairs, Din letting her lead the way while he came to grips with the fact that he was still alive.

Citizens of Strako, the ones who'd screamed for his blood just moments before, ran amok through the corridors. There were snarls and howls behind him as the creatures followed them up the stairs.

The cold night air hit him when they made it outside. No guards were manning the main entrance, no one stopped them as they disappeared into the city.

Strako rang out with screams that seemed louder in the night. Frantic citizens fled while snarling, roaring, howling creatures spilled from the arena.

They never stopped running.

The spaceport teemed with activity on the ground and in the air. Sinead took charge, shoving her way to the Crest, which stood untouched in its corner.

She was the first to get up the ramp and disappear into the ship. The child woke up with an angry screech as she thundered past his crib and scrambled up the ladder to the cockpit.

Din pressed the command to close the ramp and let himself slide down the wall with a pained grunt. His body buzzed with adrenaline. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he tried to slow his breathing.

The ship shook as it came to life and rose into the air, wobbling a bit before moving out of the spaceport.

Small hands tugged on his pant leg, and he opened his eyes. The child looked up at him with a scrunched face and drooping ears, gripping the doll tightly. He sensed when Din looked at him and made a pathetic little sound.

He was scared. The realization made Din's heart clench.

"It's okay," Din mumbled and lifted the kid onto his lap. "It's okay."

The kid pressed his face against Din's chest plate. The beskar had to be so cold and hard, but he still did it.

"It's okay."

Only when the ship had entered hyperspace, did Din allow himself to relax, letting some of the tension ebb out of his body. He didn't care where they were going, as long as it was away from Loovria. Another planet to add to his rapidly growing list of places he wanted to avoid at all costs.

His eyes drifted shut. With every beat of his heart, a stab of pain shot through his arm.

The sound of Sinead's boots hitting the floor brought him back. He just wanted to sleep.

"Mando?"

He looked at her. She strode across the floor, her hands fidgeting with white powder clinging to her hair and clothes.

"You … you're okay?"

He winced as he tried to sit up. "Yeah."

Sinead breathed out a sigh of relief. "I don't know where we're going. Just picked the first route out of here."

"We'll figure it out."

Her face was drawn under the harsh lights. "Mando, I'm…" she stopped, biting her lower lip.

The child made a sound as Din shifted him to cradle him against his chest before trying to stand up.

Sinead was there, grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling him towards the bunk. His first instinct was to shake her off, tell her that he could handle it himself. But he didn't. He was just so tired.

Bloodlets fell from his fingertips, and the kid reached for the injury. He made an angry sound as Sinead grabbed him and pulled him away.

"You need help with that?" Her eyes were fixated on the dripping blood, ignoring the wriggling kid in her arms.

"I got it," Din grunted. Gritting his teeth, he carefully peeled the glove off.

It was a mess. Two puncture wounds on the back of his hand seemed to be the source of most of the blood, but he could feel other injuries further up his forearm. If it hadn't been for the beskar, he wouldn't have an arm left to patch up.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sinead stepped closer while making sure the kid stayed in her arms. "Fuck," she breathed.

"It's fine." It really wasn't, but he didn't know what else to say. He gave up trying to roll his sleeve over the injuries, instead cutting the fabric away with a nearby knife.

Sinead put down the child and raced to the nearest compartment. "I used the last t' pala paste. Stupid."

"Sinead, you don't have to …" he watched as she ripped open another compartment and rifled through the contents. Pain pulsed through his arm in a steady rhythm, reaching all the way up to his shoulder. The wounds on his forearm would be easy enough to fix, but his hand was a whole other question; the nerves, tendons, and bones would take little more than a bandage.

The kid tried to climb onto the bunk, and Din halfheartedly pushed him away.

"Got it!"

Sinead turned, a bacta patch clutched in her hands, one he didn't even remember getting. Bacta was so expensive in the Outer Rim that he usually did without it. She dragged an empty box across the floor and sat down in front of him, her legs brushing against his. He watched her as she grabbed the knife and carefully cut the packet open.

"What are you doing?" He instinctively leaned back, trying to get more space between them.

"An old trick I learned in the palace. If you have a lot of injuries and not a lot of bacta, you do this." The tip of her tongue poked out between her lips as she cut the last three sides. A sickly sweet smell quickly spread through the hull. "These things can't really be reused. Not very useful in this situation."

He let her nervous chatter and the hum from the ship's engine wash over him. Pain was the only reason he hadn't already drifted off to sleep.

Something warm touched his arm and he jumped, his other hand shooting out to protect himself.

Sinead stared wide-eyed up at him. He'd grabbed her wrist so hard, she had dropped a piece of cloth that fluttered to the floor.

"Sorry," she breathed. "I thought you were asleep."

He blinked hard and let go of her wrist. The new adrenaline spike made his head spin. Had she gotten up to get the rag? The kid was back in his crib, trying to climb over the side, so she must have.

"Wasn't," he mumbled.

She bent down and grabbed the rag from the floor. "I'm just going to clean up the blood, okay?" Her voice was soft.

"Can do it myself." He reached out for the cloth, but she kept it out of his reach.

"Just relax. I know what I'm doing."

Instincts honed by years alone in the Outer Rim screamed out to push her away, to find a secluded place and mend his wounds alone. Here, he was helpless, vulnerable. If she wanted, she could kill him right now, and he wouldn't be able to stop her.

He couldn't suppress a shudder when she touched his wrist, gently turning his hand. She stopped at the movement, her eyes flickering to his. "This is probably gonna hurt."

He nodded slowly.

Biting her lower lip, she set to work on cleaning the blood, which had mostly stopped flowing. Some of it had already dried, and she rubbed carefully, watching him for any sign of pain.

He gritted his teeth, focusing his eyes on a hook hanging from the ceiling. Pain coursed through his arm, but that wasn't the most distracting part. Pain he was used to. Sinead's touch was light and gentle as she worked, now and again glancing up at him as if she could see his face, looking for any sign of discomfort. When she moved her hand, she left a tingling sensation just beneath his skin.

She left the rag on the bunk, out of the kid's reach. He had given up trying to get to Din and was sulking on the floor.

"Can you hold this, please?"

Din held the bacta patch in his good hand, and she opened it carefully, taking care to not spill any of the gel. Instead of just a gob of bacta, there was a wad of gauze drenched in the gel, and she peeled off the first see-through sheet.

"Worst part's over." She smiled up at him, but it didn't fully reach her eyes.

She started from the top, carefully placing the paper over a gash. Immediately, it was like Din had submerged his arm in water so cold it dulled all other senses.

"It takes longer to work this way, and there'll be some scarring, but it's better than nothing."

A few more scars didn't really make a difference.

She worked in silence. Din watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Mando …" she said, breaking him out of his daze. "I'm so sorry about all of this …" She stared intently at his wounded arm. "This is my fault. I should never have asked you to do this."

His brows furrowed. "But you didn't? The Pau'an-"

"That's not what I meant." She brushed a few tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid out of her face and left a bloody mark across her cheek. "I should never have asked you to pretend to be a fighter, or leave you with Rundu while I run off blindly, getting both of us caught."

He tried to summon the anger he had felt when she left him with the Neimoidian, but the bacta and her touch made it hard to feel anything at all.

"Thank you."

Her hands stilled, and their eyes met. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Din was the first one to look away, not sure what to say. His eyes fell on the blaster Sinead had left on the floor when she first entered the Crest. Suddenly, the explosion he'd heard made sense.

"Where d'you find a slugthrower?"

She looked over her shoulder at the weapon. "From the Master's collection."

"And the flour?"

Sinead looked confused for a moment before huffing out a laugh. "Oh, that. My little distraction." She scratched the side of her nose, leaving more blood. "My mother told me if I ever needed a big explosion, to find the kitchen and get my hands on whatever loose powder I could find. Every place has a kitchen. Well, except this one." She gestured with a bloodied hand to the rest of the ship.

"There's a galley."

She shot him a wry smile. "No, there's not. Just because you weld a cooker and a cold box to the inside of a gunship doesn't mean it's a galley."

"Mhm." He allowed himself to smile and leaned his head against the wall. Sinead's touch was becoming almost hypnotic.

The next thing he remembered was Sinead standing up, having wrapped the last of the bacta around his hand.

"You go get some rest. I'll clean this up," she said, going to the sink and cleaning her hands. Din noticed the blood down her shirt and in a puddle on the floor. The child had fallen asleep leaning up against his crib.

"I'm fine."

"You can't be fine, you nearly got your arm bitten off." She lifted the child and put him in his crib. "Go. I promise the world won't end just because you get some well-deserved rest."

It felt like it would.

"But-"

"Mando." The word came out in a sigh. "The bacta won't work properly unless you sleep. There's nothing here for you to do."

He looked at the kid sleeping peacefully in his crib. "If anything happens, come get me."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"Okay!" She held her hand up, palms out. "If, for whatever reason, anything happens while we're hurtling through hyperspace, I promise I'll come and get you."

Din grunted and rolled his eyes under the helmet.

The door to the storage space closed behind him, and he slipped off his helmet, taking a deep breath of recycled air. It was over.

He crawled onto the cot, not bothering to get out of the rest of his armor. His body felt heavy, and it was like his arm didn't know whether to hurt or to tingle. Quickly, the smell of bacta spread in the small room.

The last thing he remembered before drifting away was the sound of Sinead knocking around on the other side of the door.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead

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seokiloquy · 4 years

Text

Metallic - Hinata Shoyo

AU: Avengers

Revamp

GN! Reader, This is just fluff with hardly any plot.

Word Count: 2.8k+

"They've gone rogue!" Men and women in robes ran ragged around the dark metal room. Dark masks clung to their faces, muffling their angered voices as they yelled at each other.

"Tie 'em down!"

"Trying!"

Your body was strapped down into a metal table as you struggled to set yourself free. The men around you spoke in a different language but once they spoke in English, it was with a heavy accent. You tugged on the leather belts around your wrists, stretching them.

"Let me go!" You yelled as one of the men forced your head down. Your muscles tightened under the restraints as your limbs forced themselves upward. A man came to your left side placing a hand on your forearm he loosened the strap in hopes to readjust it, only to send your fighting arm free. With all your strength behind the movement, your arm shot up hitting the man beneath his chin. His head flung backwards with a resounding crack.

"Stupid metal arm."

Another man ran to your side. Using the upward momentum of your punch he rotated your arm back down on the table. A woman came in to secure a clamp around it. You continued to fight against the now tightened restraints, Unrelenting as you yelled at the man that stared down at you.

"Everything ready?!"

"All set!"

The man who fastened your head down looked down at you with a smirk. He leaned down and pushed your jaw upward, bending your neck awkwardly. You growled at him. He pushed down on the soft space at the crook of your neck and jaw, forcing your tongue to push upward, making it difficult to speak. He smirked at your discomfort.

"Don't worry. This will hurt."

He dropped your head with a thud, quickly tightening the brace that held your head down one last time. With a harsh pat on your cheek exited the room to stand behind a glass wall to your left. The others in the room quickly followed him.

"Ready." His voice was monotone, but you could see the joyful grin that he wore through the glass

You glared out of the corner of your eye, "No way in hell am I do-"

"Go."

"Mission report."

You sat staring forward at the man that stood in front of you. He flipped through a series of computer screens as he waited for your response. Your eyes followed his arm movements.

"Mission successful. Infiltrators terminated. 15 total."

The man nodded, adjusting the glasses that sat on his nose. His hand moved, opening another screen, "Good, good. Now for your next target. You must take down Iron-Man and his little posse of mutants."

"Actually sir. A majority of them are human."

Turning his head to the assistant he snapped, "Shut up or I'll shoot you."

The man looked back at you with a scowl, ignoring his assistant’s shuffle in discomfort. You paid the younger man no mind, continuing to watch the man before you as he took a step forward. With his head tilted down and he began to lean over your form as it sat in a still position. You didn’t move, staring into the man’s stomach.

"Any words?" he snarled.

"Hail Hydra."

"Tsukki what's the problem?"

Standing around the kitchen table the group listened as their leader as he told them about the recent activity that had been tracked. Tsukishima had a hologram pulled up displaying images taken from security cameras. Using an open hand, he used his connected index and middle finger to point to specific portions of the screen.

"Terrorists. One in particular has been spotted at each site. The only problem is that their face is never visible, it’s always a side or back view. They also appear to wear a mask, which doesn't help. But they do seem to have (H/L) (H/C) hair and are always wearing black, typically a sweater and sweatpants. For the most part, they seem rather indifferent. The only concerning thing..." swiping his finger across the screen, he made the image become zoomed in and enhanced.

"Hydra." Kiyoko sighed.

"Yes. It seems they have sent out an assassin to do who knows what. But they’ve caught our attention and they have to be taken down."

Hinata sat up in his seat leaning his weight over his knees. His brow furrowed and his head tilted sideways. He yawned slightly, "No clue on who they are?"

Tsukishima shook his head, leaning on the table next to him. Crossing his arms, he let out a disappointed sigh, "None. At least of who they are personally. But they're called the Winter Soldier."

You watched as your fellow assassins walked around, blending in with the locals. The wind was blowing against your head as you leaned over the ledge of the building. But the calming silence was short-lived when a loud thump was heard from behind you. You didn’t flinch, continuing to watch the crowd below you.

"Winter Soldier."

Turning around you saw a man with orange hair carrying a shield on his arm. Slowly, he brought the shield clad arm over his shoulder, hooking the metal plate onto his back. He took a slow step towards you, hands in front of him in silent surrender. You, on the other hand, quickly pulled out a gun and leaned farther off the ledge. You didn’t blink, flicking off the safety.

"Slow down there, bud. I don't want to fight you." he stopped but kept his hands up, taking another step, "My name's Hinata. I won't hurt you."

He took a sudden step closer.

You threw yourself off the ledge, mask untying and falling off in the process.

Hinata, not expecting the sudden launch, looked over the ledge trying to reach for you.

"(Y/N)?!"

Your head tilted as you fell backwards.

(Y/N)?

Flinging your arm upwards you shot the gun but missed as Hinata ducked away, out of sight.

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were in the lab when Hinata rushed in the door. He, despite being in perfect form, was breathing heavily as he gripped the edge of the work table. The two scientists sent the other a confused look in his direction. To which he responded with a yell.

"We can't kill them Tsukki!"

The two turned to fully face the hyperactive redhead and sighed.

Tsukishima pushed up the rim of his glasses and let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course not,” he said, making Hinata jump up with a smile. Tsukishima took a quick sip of his coffee before placing the mug down on the table, “We interrogate them first. Then we kill them."

"No no no! They're my old friend. My very old friend now that I think about it...." Hinata raced around the table, latching onto Tsukishima’s sleeve. The taller one began flicking his arm, desperate to get the other off.

Yamaguchi tilted his head as he took off his goggles, "Are you talking about (Y/N)? The one in the museum?"

Hinata nodded and rushed for Yamaguchi. He held his hands in tight fists, desperately bouncing back and forth on his toes as he pleaded.

"Please, this isn't like them. They never acted like this, something’s wrong. Please, let me help them."

Tsukki sighed tilting his glasses downward. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Yamaguchi held his hands up and looked towards the tall scientist. Seeing his friend’s pleading look over the shoulder of the shorter redhead, Tsukishima spoke tiredly, "I'll give you a month. After that well see how it goes. But if you can't get them under control by then. They're going to S.H.I.E.L.D and staying in a holding cell."

"Unchain me."

From behind a wall of thick glass, a casually dressed man stared at you, watching. So sat perfectly still, not letting the chains that sat at your side make a noise. He scrutinized you, crossing his arms with a dissatisfied huff, "No can do. Not until you calm down."

You growled at the blond man, “I am calm.”

He scoffed, keeping his feet planted square beneath him, arms crossed. The square-shaped glasses that sat on his nose seemed to twinkle as the corners of his mouth lifted into a condescending smirk. The blonde seemed too comfortable on that side of the glass. You glared.

"Where am I?"

"In my building," monotone but amused, he was definitely happy with your capture.

You groaned as you shifted in your seat. This was all too familiar. "Who is Hinata?"

"An old friend," The aforementioned carrot-top now stood in the doorway, looking at the man who stood between you. He sent you a sheepish smile before turning his attention to the taller man, "Tsuki, Kageyama wants your help designing more advanced arrows, Sugawara's wings need some oiling, Nishinoya's suit is malfunctioning he keeps becoming small instead of big, Daichi wants more abilities in his suit, and Tanaka wants Asahi to stop plowing through his walls when he's nervous." Hinata listed.

Tsukishima sighed, dropping his arms to put them on his hip, "Anything else?"

"Ugh... Kiyoko wants a new gun, Kinoshita and Narita are on a mission, Ennoshita wants a suit check up... Oh and Takeda called earlier, Ukai is in a bad mood,” He responded, fiddling with his fingers.

"Great," Tsukishima sneered as he walked past Hinata and through the door.

You, on the other hand, were still tied down in the glass bottle, glaring at the redhead. He gave you a strange look.

“Do you need anything?” He asked.

You lifted your chained wrists up for him to notice. He shuffled closer and opened the large glass door. He held his hands up in a silent surrender as he took cautionary steps toward you. "Okay, I get it. I'll free you. Just don't punch me that'll hurt.” He sighed, “Tsuki’s gonna kill me for this.”

As he undid the chain he could still feel your glare burning into his skull. You remained perfectly still. He shivered and looked away from the chains to make eye contact with you. His hand’s stopped, gently pulling the restraint off your wrists. You let your hands fall into your lap.

"(Y/N)?" he asked.

"Who's (Y/N)?"

Hinata set down the chains with a sad sigh and sat in front of you, eyes squinted together as if in pain. His eyes became glossy, brows furrowed, and tears began to slip down his face ending at his chin where they dropped off and landed at your feet. His hands went to his chest and neck, choking down a sob that made his throat burn.

"You, my best friend. But you don't remember. Please, (Y/N), remember, please."

Your nose burnt, and your chest hurt with every pulse. Each beat sending painful aches from your chest to the palm of your hand. You wanted to hit something. Punch something.

"(Y/N)," his voice cracked as another sob was forced down. You flinched back, not sure how to continue. "I will keep you safe from Hydra. Bring back your memories. Anything to get you back."

Hinata looked up, eyes and nose red. The pain in your chest increased. You held up a fist, digging your nails into your palm, creating crescent marks in your skin. Letting the muscles relax, you reached your hand forward and placed it on his head.

"Okay."

"Tie them down."

Suddenly waking up from a nightmare you had begun to thrash around. Tsukishima, who had been in his lab when he heard the noise from the security cameras, called Hinata, who was just finished with his training, to help him calm you down. Your arms and legs were flailing about with force that would carry your torso along with them. Way too much force for someone who was freely laying on a soft bed.

"No, that's not a good idea." Hinata held your shoulders, pushing them towards each other and into the mattress. “That could cause more damage.”

Your arm flung out in a fist and Hinata just managed to catch your metal prosthetic before it hit him in the neck. He forced your hand down against the bed to be sure it won't swing again, holding it as gently as he could without risking his own physical well-being. Tsukishima was just barely able to hold your legs, needing to put all his weight into forcing them into the bed.

After a couple minutes of the two holding your body down, your muscles froze up. They stayed still for a moment, tensing and pulling to their fullest possible reach before completely relaxing. With that, the two tired men were able to let go.

"I'll stay here, make sure it doesn't happen again. You still have a list to finish." Hinata said as he climbed off the bed and onto a large chair in the corner of the room. He yawned and shifted so his legs were propped up on the push arm of the seat.

"Ya ya. Everyone here is needy for upgrades. Keep them asleep, I don’t have time to come back with restraints. See you tomorrow," Tsukishima panted as he brushed his hair, heading for the door. "Jeez, they're a real piece of work."

With that, the door shut gently behind the drained man, letting off a light click, closing out the night.

The next day, Hinata sat you down at the kitchen table and brought out different slices of layered bread, setting them on the table for both of you to eat. He grinned shakily as he set the plate and fork down in front of you.

"Are you not going to eat the cake?"

"That's cake?" you asked, pointing at the glob on the plate. Whatever kind of cake it was, it was horribly misshapen and mushed to the point of being more likely acknowledged as scrambled eggs.

Hinata sighed as he took your fork, cutting the dessert, before holding it out to you in zippy waving motions. "Here comes their Choo Choo Train Choo choo!"

Raising an eyebrow you glared at Hinata as his smile dimmed to a cringe.

"Right..... Too soon?" he spun the fork for you to take from his hold.

You sighed as Hinata looked away and grabbed the fork for yourself. Hesitantly shoving the food into your mouth. Your tongue curled at the feeling of the food rolling over it. "I don't like it," you swallowed.

Hinata laughed and took your plate, eating the cake himself, opting to start with a big shovel that made his voice come out muffled as he talked, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Did I not like cake?" you asked, holding your hand underneath the table.

Hinata nodded a bit, finishing off the last small slice and carrying everything to the sink. "Not really. You said it was too dry."

You nodded rubbing the metal of your arm. Hinata walked around you, making you turn your head to follow until he stopped and dropped the dishes into the sink and began to clean them.

You looked at the back of his hair and sighed, imagining an old-time steel helmet wrapping around his head. The flash of a poorly lit memory made your head hurt. "Whatever happened to Yachi?" you asked, digging your nails into the palm of your skin covered hand.

Hinata froze slightly before continuing to wash, keeping his clenched hands hidden underneath the soapy water, "She died of old age a few months ago."

"Hinata-"

"It's alright. She lived a good life and that's what matters."

As Hinata dried the last of the dishes before putting them away and turning to you.

Your heart hurt on the news that Yachi died. But you were never there. You didn't know her well enough to feel sad for her. No, you felt sad for the pain Hinata must have gone through and the fact that you couldn't have been there for him. You wanted to get out of these hazy memories.

"Cheesecake?"

Hinata tilted his head, "what about it?"

"It's not dry, right? Wouldn't I like it better? I mean, I guess it’s sort of a pie? I don’t really know."

Hinata nodded and sat down on the stool next to you, drying his hands in a towel that had been hanging off the fridge. "I guess, maybe."

"Then let's go get cheesecake."

You stood up and walked to the elevator, grabbing your sweater and hat as you walked. Desperately wanting to get out of the stuffy situation, your walk was more of a run.

"But, (Y/N), we just tried multiple-"

"No, cheesecake, let's go."

Sighing, Hinata grabbed his jacket and followed you out. He smiled when you fumbled with the sleeve of your sweater and helped you get it on over your metal arm. "Okay,” he laughed, following you through the elevator doors.

Your head shot up, “One last thing."

"What is it?" he asked, pulling a glove out of his pocket before dragging it over your metal fingers and palm.

"Can they make it with plums?"

Despite liking the Avengers I feel like I hardly know anything about the story… -Bacon

Posted: 03/08/2020

#haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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jj-lives · 5 years

Text

Inktober - Freeze

Again, all my Inktober pieces are part of the same verse and I hope to piece them together in a cohesive manner after I am finished, but for now enjoy the confusing time skips.

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

Holding the door she let Blake enter first. As always, Yang received a grateful smile in return for her chivalry. As Blake brushed passed Yang hurriedly followed intent to remain close. They’d been separated for far too long in her mind and she yearned to make up for lost time.

“You find a table and I’ll get our order?” Yang asked rocking back and forth, heel to toe. Why the hell was she nervous?

“Sounds good to me.” Blake scanned the establishment for an empty table and Yang watched on knowing she’d be looking for one out of the way of most patrons. When Blake’s eyes returned to find Yang’s feet still cemented to the floor she chuckled. At least she found her antsy behaviour more endearing than annoying. “You going to actually place the order or should I do that too?”

“Oh, right.” Yang quickly stepped past her. “No. No, I’ll get our order. You just continue scrutinizing every table. Hopefully you find a suitable one by the time I get back.”

“That’s rude.” Blake deadpanned.

Yang spun on her heel, surprised at Blake’s affronted appearance. It was a joke. She hadn’t meant it in a negative light. She actually thought Blake’s over analyzation on certain things adorable.

“I’m s-”

The corner of Blake’s mouth twitched catching Yang’s attention. It was only then that she noticed the sparkle in her amber eyes. Blake was toying with her!

“You’re so easy!” Blake broke character seeing the realization take over Yang’s features. “You are totally off your game Xiao Long.”

“You will pay for this,” she said with narrowed eyes.

Rolling her eyes, Blake moved to step around her heading for a table that must have checked the majority of her personal requirements. Yang’s arm shot out to block her way.

Her brow raised as she turned her perplexed gaze on Yang. She couldn’t help herself anymore. Blake had been very sly and playful since Yang picked her up. She might play up her exasperation whenever Bratty Blake showed herself but honestly she fell even more in love with Blake in these moments. Who else could keep her on her toes like this. It amazed her how in the first few months of their acquaintance she had pegged Blake as a quiet, shy bookworm. The reality was quite the opposite. Actually, that was a lie. Blake could be shy. She could be quiet. She was most definitely a bookworm, but those things were just a small portion of who she was. It astonished her with how much she knew about Blake that the other was still able to surprise her. Blake was still able to throw curveballs at her.

And maybe that’s why that magnetism never went away. Yang was happy to find that the pull she’d felt in the beginning of their friendship never once faded.

Her patience wore down as Yang continued to stare at her unmoving. When her mouth opened to form a question Yang made her move. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Blake’s right cheek, barely skimming the corner of her mouth.

“Oh!” Blake exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise and delight.

Yang left her standing dumbstruck just inside the entrance and made her way to the counter. They’d been here so many times in the past it was useless asking if Blake wanted to try something new. Once that girl decided on something she liked that was it. There wasn’t anyway anyone could change her mind.

Order in hand she made her way to the table Blake selected against the far back wall.

“Strawberry and Lime milkshake for milady.” Yang set the cold glass on the table by Blake’s elbow before falling into the booth across from her.

“Why thank you…” the last word trailed with an air of slyness which caught her attention. “My peasant.” Blake finished with a wide smile.

Yang’s jaw dropped, but Blake seemed not to care. She pulled the frosted glass gift Yang brought her closer and took a sip. She moaned as the flavours hit her tongue.

Yang wasn’t about to let the comment go though.

“Peasant? Really?”

Blake nodded resolutely.

“But, a peasant? That’s so mean.”

“Hey, the world was built off the hard labour of peasants.” Blake explained. “Besides, if you are going to be my chauffeur, call me milady, hold doors open for me and bring me food and drinks, -basically be at my beck and call- all I’m saying is if the shoe fits.”

“Brat.”

“What was that?” Blake questioned. “You were kind of mumbling.”

“I called you a Brat with a capital B.”

“So much for milady, huh? Too bad. I think I could have gotten used to that one.”

Yang rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her raspberry shake. She watched as Blake sucked back a good portion of her glass.

“You should slow down with that,” she warned.

“Why? Afraid I’m going to get fat?” She queried as she took another large sip, challenging Yang with a glare.

“Hardly.” Yang responded shaking her head. “That kind of thing doesn’t matter to me.”

Blake took one more sip before pushing her half empty glass to the side. She smiled softly at Yang, her teasing mien disappearing at her words. A drop of cream clung to her bottom lip and it took all Yang’s willpower not to lean over the table to lick it clean.

A twitch at the corner of Blake’s eye was Yang’s first clue something was wrong. The hiss that escaped through Blakes gritted teeth was the next.

“What’s the matter?” Yang leaned forward, reaching her hand to take a hold of Blake’s elbow in support.

“Brain freeze,” Blake wheezed and Yang could feel her knee jump under the table as it brushed against her own.

“And this is what I was warning you about.” Yang tsked. The next moan to leave Blake’s lips was not one of pleasure and it nearly broke her heart. “Oh, Blake.” Yang hated to see her in pain, even if it was only due to ice cream. Even if the pain was self inflicted and totally preventable if she’d just taken her advice. Yang pushed her glass out of the way to get better access as she placed her palm along the side of Blake’s neck. “Stick your tongue to the roof of your mouth and breathe through your nose.” Pressing her index and middle finger she drew a small line into the hairline at the back of Blake’s neck. She continued until Blake’s knee stopped tapping her own.

“Thanks,” Blake voiced meekly. “Guess it’s my own fault for being a brat again, huh?”

Yang released her hold to the back of Blake’s neck and traced her fingers along her jaw in their retreat. She took this moment to take in the other’s beauty. She still felt like some sort of stalker when she stared too long, but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself. Her fingers dipped to cup Blake’s chin and Yang allowed her thumb to trace the length of Blakes bottom lip. Blake must have been short on breath after the brain freeze; if the gasp she took in was any indication.

Releasing Blake completely she brought her thumb to her own lips. Humming as her tongue flicked out to taste the drop she’d collected from Blake’s lips.

“I can see why you like that flavour so much.” Yang smiled as Blake tucked her chin in, staring down at her hands in embarrassment. “And you have nothing to apologize for.”

Blake scoffed.

“I’m serious. I love your bratty side, even if it seems to be the bane of my existence some days. You keep me guessing and I wouldn’t trade it for the world, okay?”

Nodding her head, Blake picked up her glass to bring the straw to her lips. Yang raised her brow quizzically.

“Don’t worry,” she said taking a small sip. “I will be careful. I do not want a repeat of that.”

“Can I have a taste?” Yang asked, staring at what was left in her glass.

“Didn’t you already get one?” Her teasing smirk returned, but she pushed the glass towards Yang in silent acquiescence.

“I wouldn’t mind a repeat.” Yang shot her own teasing smirk across the table.

Blake roared in laughter. “There’s the Yang I know and love. Where have you been hiding?”

“I was just silently enjoying your company.” Yang said quietly. Honestly.

She took a sip, letting the flavours swirl around her tongue before swallowing. She approved. It was definitely a good combination. Blake’s countenance turned serious as Yang passed the drink back.

“Blake?”

“I missed you,” she almost whispered. “Is that weird?”

“Why would that be weird?” Her hand tightened around Blake’s elbow, silently encouraging her.

“I’ve not been gone a full week, but I missed you so much.” Blake looked like she was upset with herself over the confession. She wouldn’t look Yang in the eye no matter how far Yang dipped her head to try and catch sight of their beautiful amber tones. “I’ve never missed anyone like that before. I-” Her eyes darted to anyone in earshot, anyone but Yang. “Is that wrong?”

“Is what wrong?” Yang wasn’t sure if she meant missing her or not missing others in the same way.

“Missing you. Like that.”

“Does it feel wrong?”

Yang could feel her heart hammering in her throat. She swallowed to force a blockage down that didn’t exist. Anxiety over Blake’s next answer creeped up on her causing her nerves to turn jittery. Why was she taking so long to answer?

“No.” Blake finally responded and Yang was able to breathe once more. “That’s the thing. It doesn’t feel wrong at all.”

“I missed you so fucking much” Yang laughed. “Ruby kicked me out twice this week because I was annoying her with how much I spoke about you.”

“Seriously?” Skepticism apparent in her tone.

“Ask Ruby yourself. She came up with this whole theory that since I couldn’t see you I quadrupled the amount I’d say your name to fool myself into thinking you weren’t really gone.” Yang’s laughter died. “So if it’s wrong to feel this way we can be wrong together.”

“I like that.”

“Good, that’s settled.” Blake moved to grasp Yang’s hand in her own, squeezing it firmly three times. “Just,” Yang squeezed back three times, “don’t ever go away again.”

Blake smiled at her childish wish. “I can’t promise that.” Yang pouted. “But I can say you are more than welcome to join me next time.”

“You mean…” Yang trailed off as the blood drained from her face.

“Yup, my dad is particularly interested in meeting you.”

#bumbleby #inktober #day 4 freeze #my writing

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floret1 · 4 years

Text

FALLEN (SOUL EATER FANFIC): CHAPTER 1

THE PINK ANGEL

An hour later, the bus pulled into a parking lot and I had seen the Death City sign posted in front. A wiggle of hunger stirred in my stomach. I shifted my gaze around, almost surprised the place didn't have a high fence and a locked gate. Even after the events of practically a war months ago.

This was, after all, considered to be full of "troubled" teens.

Oh, I haven't introduced myself.

I'm A.C. Heard of me? Good. You're not suppose to anyways.

Well look. It's not, my thing, to come into this kind of world. Being surrounded by younglings whom pursue to abolish corrupted souls with their fighting abilities and magical Weapon-friends.

Anyways, back to A.C.'s first day.

While walking through the large city, I made it to a strange building with large candles, large skulls, and large spikes coming out of it. I'll give it some of my amazement, I think it's a unique architecture. I made it up the stairs and the front of the school was crowded with more human tee-....Lordie, can you say freaks?

One girl wore nothing but red -- red lipstick, red eye shadow, red pants, and a red long-sleeve shirt. Hadn't Red Riding Hood gone out of style? Where was this girl getting her fashion tips? Hadn't she read that colors are in? Like black is the new red? And then there was a boy near the front of the entrance. He had both his eyebrows pierced. There was even that one girl in the bus, her hair dyed three different colors - pink, lime green, and jet black.

They belonged together for sure. They all wore name tags that said 'Meister' or 'Weapon'.

But even in this supernatural part of the world, the stares started to grow. Not at Red Riding Hood. Not at the member of Big Hero 6. Not even Gajeel Redfox 2.0. Just ole me.

I couldn't blame them really, not everyone has long layered pink hair and blue-ish, grey eyes. But maybe that's not why they were staring at me, maybe my inhuman beauty. And I'm not being narcissistic or anything, it's just natural for my kind.

It grew distantly quiet but I didn't mind or care, I started walking into the entrance of the building and everyone murmured and murmured, getting out of my way. Whistles were heard and mouths dropped just a little, and I rolled my eyes in return.

Inside was like a great big private mansion, made of creamed-colored stone but had a line of red and black here and there. Ivy grew up one wall, and they'd let an OCD gardener have his way with the grounds. Extremely tidy.

I looked down on the map of the building that was in my hands and made it to the Shinigami's "office", called the Death Room.

Peachy.

"Hey kiddo!" The friendly voice was not welcoming in my ears, and the skull-masked creature with a cloak didn't make me laugh.

"Death" appeared as a being covered in a tattered piece of pitch black cloth with many jagged edges, decorated with a cartoony skull mask, which seems to serve the sole purpose of imitating an otherwise absent face—a means of rendering Death more humanoid and thus making him more comfortable for humans (particularly children) to communicate. He also appeared with large, foam gloved hands from his side, in which seemingly materialize.

Those enormously huge hands that could have been used more as weapons, "Good morning!

Welcome to DWMA! Today is the start of our new year, so sorry for the crowded entrance there."

“Hmph.”

"I'm guessing this is a urgent message? Enough to ask me to come to this place." I said. He chuckled a little, but my ears focused on the sound of wheels behind me.

I turned and a scientist (so it seemed) was a tall man, even by sitting on a chair, and had a handsome face. But then again....

He rolled through the long walkway and then collapsed, tripping over a crack. There was a moment of disbelief and Death must have felt the same way. Stitchy here scratched his head and stood up like nothing happened.

"Good morning Lord Death." He said and bowed to the Shinigami, I stared at him and read him like I did to the girl earlier today. Like how you would look at any person really. I looked, and then it happened again.

I call it Index Mode, when I can feel a thrill in my skin. Finding out his ability, his name, and his personality.

His most notable trait was likely the large screw-in bolt going through his head. He often turned this screw, a means to focus his thoughts or as he prepares to attack an opponent.

Another notable detail about Stein's body, as well as his clothes, are their zig-zag stitches. He has sewn stitches all over his body and clothing; even his house is covered in stitches. His most notable piece of clothing is his doctor's lab coat. He is also surprisingly well built for a man his age, due to a large portion of his time being devoted to combat training.

"Dr. Stein." I said and nodded, signaling a hello.

He looked at me with a mischievous smile, "So this is the special new student. I'm only able to see the personality and wavelength of one's soul."

"Did I miss something here?" I said and felt threatened by his conning, but the Shinigami laughed and no surprise there.

"Oh yes! We haven't made a deal did we?" He said childishly.

“Urgh, Shingamis are unbelievable.”

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. We did make one. I come here to help out with this new situation you're having and I get the benefit of having all the souls I need to hunt and eat." I said in my steely voice.

"Oh yeah!" He said and I face-palmed, "But to legally fulfill your desires, you must become a DWMA student." He said.

I sighed and crossed my arms, "Fine." I said, the Shinigami handed me a list and a rule book immediately after my approval.

"We got rules here that requires uniforms. Shibunsen has a huge variety of uniforms, you know? We let you mix and match any top or bottom, even mixing your casual clothes. Just as long as you have the DWMA emblem on you." He chuckles, "Sorry, but I guess you'll have to do school again. Well, if you ever have...haha!" He laughed quite barbarically, but I rolled my eyes in response. What else could I say to a no-brainer Death God. "Oh, and there's one more thing- "

—

Maka’s POV—

"Soul! Come on!"

“Stupid guy! He's always slacking off and can't keep up! Urgh!!!!!!”

"We're going to be late!" I exclaimed.

He regarded me calmly and silent like always. Sometimes he can be like a dark shadow come to life. Reserved yet aloof.

We made it up the stairs and all the freshman students were scurrying up and around.

"Newbies." Soul said with a grin, I grinned with him too.

"It was only a year ago, we were freshmans too." I said, feeling nostalgic.

With the city rebuilt and in order, I guess things are a whole lot better now.

"Yahoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Look at me my future slaves! I'm going to surpass God cause I'm the one and only star...Black Star!!! MUWAHAHAHA!!!!"

A hard slap on my forehead was an effort to wake myself from believing that Black Star was up on the spikes, again.

"G-good morning Maka-chan." Tsubaki came up to me while scratching the back of her head, embarrassed about her master, "He's going at it again." She gasped when we heard a large crack.

"BLACK STAR!" Tsubaki, worried for him as always and ran towards him

"Falling off the spikes again. Nothing changed..." I said, Soul snickered and laughed a little.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!" Kid came into the scene and was pestering with Black Star.

"Come on Soul." I said, he wasn't behind me and was joining Black Star. "Soul?! Guys!!" I stomped on the ground with frustration, "Urgh!!!"

I was ready hit someone with my textbook, but I felt a finger tap on my shoulder and I quickly turned around, Crona looked very nervous and held onto his arm.

Author Note: *rolling eyes* YES. I'm going to make Crona a boy!

"Crona! Ready for your sophomore year?" He smiles and nods as usual, but because of this year's new rule of uniforms, he wore tight pants and the boy's collar shirt and jacket. "You look great!" I exclaimed and gave him a smile, he blushed and smiled back. I rubbed his head and patted his back, he can be really cute at times.

"Hey guys. What's everyone getting all wild about? They're murmuring to each other." Liz pointed out.

"Maybe about my awesomeness!!" Black Star started leaping.

"Maybe your stupidity." I muttered.

"Shut up!" He said and pouted.

"Have you guys heard! There's a hot chick that came around this morning!" We heard someone exclaim.

"A new girl?" Soul said.

"What?! Someone is taking my spotlight!!" Black Star said.

I thought for a minute and rubbed my chin, “A new student huh?”

"9:30 A.M.: Meister and Weapon". I wrote on my planner while sitting on my row of Dr. Stein's classroom.

"Hey Soul, I wonder if that new girl is in our class." I said putting down my pen, I turned and he wasn't listening. I sighed and took out my ultimate-weapon-of-waking-up-idiots. "Maka Chop!!!" I strategically slammed my large, green book onto his head. Leaving it sizzling.

"Ow!!!! That hurts!" He said, I stuck my tongue out to make fun of him.

"Did you hear me or what?" I said, he fell onto his palm and lazily leaned on the table.

"Yeah yeah. Who knows?" He was uninterested, and did a terrible job of acting like he was paying attention.

"Have you seen the Pink Angel yet?" Some kid said.

"No, but I heard she's a sophomore! So she might be in our class!"

Some girls and boys kept talking about the new girl and made me curious.

"I haven't heard the students gossip so much since Kid's arrival." Tsubaki whispers.

"WHY WONT ANYONE TALK ABOUT ME?!" Black Star exclaims.

"Cause no one wants to." We all said in unison.

The door opens and Dr. Stein comes into the room, no one ever talks while he comes in cause, well, he's a nut-job.

"Morning class." He said with boredom and swivels on his chair with his usual, slump posture. I looked around and I didn't see anyone out of particular. New kids obviously, but not the description everyone talked about.

"Stein Sensei?" I rose my hand but he flicked his hand up first.

"I know you guys are dying to know about the new sophomore student, as I heard she already has a nickname. But she's not in this class and I don't want to hear anything else about it in front of me. This is class, not a social gossip club."

I immediately placed my hand down and everyone murmurs, “That's weird, she's a sophomore but not in this class? Doesn't she have a partner?”

—

Soul Eater POV--

"Come on Soul, it's lunch now." Maka orders me again, and I nodded and lifted my head up off the table.

"Alright-alright." I placed each hand in my pockets and walked behind Maka. She walked happily across the hallway with Black Star, Tsubaki, Kid, Lizzy, Patty, and Crona.

She was, what I call....her "temporary" good mood. She was in her favorite place in the world: class.

"I'll meet you guys later." I said, moving myself to a different hallway.

"Where's he going?" I was still able to hear Black Star because of his projectile voice.

"To the music room." Maka said and their footsteps died down.

Maka and I can't afford a piano back at the apartment, or have enough room, but whatever. I sighed and scratched the back of my head.

Music room was written lazily on the black, foggy glass door and I stopped walking when I heard a violin coming out of the room. Yeah, a violin.

It was unusual for someone to be in there, the room was vacant and I was the only who had a key to it. But I heard a violinist without an accompanist, her tone was dark and light at the same time and was actually soothing into my ears. With strong chords and a lot of minors, it was intense music with a lot of intention.

I couldn't help but lean my back agianst the door, closing my eyes. My fingers couldn't help but tap rhythms on my lap and my mind imagined a perfect piano part for the piece. I had the urge to go inside and see who was playing, but I also didn't want the music to stop.

But what the heck, I'll go in quietly.

I opened the door slowly and peeked inside the room, the song perfectly finished and the last chord echoes. Huh, it was over. Might as well see who was playing.

"Hellooooo?" I called out. When the door was completely open, I jolted back with fear as something was thrown towards me, aimed just a few inches away from my skin.

"Shit!" I turned around and a violin bow was pierced against the wall. Like a arrow, it kept vibrating from the force.

"What the hell man?!" But there was no one in front of me, or in the room.

The lights weren't on and the room look untouched, it was like no one was here.

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symphonic--chaos · 5 years

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"-- and then we're speaking to this merchant and Ragnor, he doesn't speak Spanish, so he's there telling me to translate what we're guarding and I don't want to tell him because it's literally a pile of sh-" The sudden surge of energy and magic filled the air so quickly it had almost felt like he'd done a cannonball into a pool, stunning him into silence. His hands rested quickly on the table as Alec looked on, clearly alarmed by how fast Magnus's facial expression had changed.

"Magnus? What is it? What-" The entire apartment rattled as a thundering boom rippled through Brooklyn, the echoes of terrified screams from a group of teens as they sprinted past. The wine glasses had tipped and spilled onto the crisp white tablecloth, staining it red and even dripping onto the floor, but the two were already so far down the stairs that neither noticed.

"We'll move in together, see if you can keep it from getting away and I'll take it down. We don't need to cause more chaos... Or paperwork."

They could smell the sulfer as they approached the abandoned building, once a towering beast of a house, and now it housed a towering beast. Magnus only knew this because he could see its shadow through the second floor window. "So much for our date..." He muttered as they got over their shock and headed inside. The magic already formed around his hands by the last step, an incantation beginning as they went through the door left open by the teens, judging by the entrail of their belongings left behind from what must have been spilled bags.

The ward was quick to go up, the near irridescent blue sheen surrounding the innards of the hollowed house, and he was already sweating just looking at the demon. How had a group of kids managed to summon a demon this large? Perhaps young warlocks, he thought. A terrified scream from a young boy erupted from the corner and Magnus's head whipped over to the direction of the sound, his thoughts only confirmed as he saw a teen cowering half covered in shadows with a spellbook that was clearly stolen, and... What looked like a decimated Ouija board atop a large pentacle.

"Magnus!" Alec's voice sounded desperate and Magnus made the mistake of looking to him, seeing him trapped behind the ward he'd made. He'd sworn Alec was right behind him when they entered, he should have made it in, but instead he'd just locked out his only backup in his haste to contain the issue. Once again his hands lifted and as he began to open it just for Alec, the demons large clawed hand moved to plow directly into his torso, sending him flying back into one of the large marble supports of the foyer. He wasn't sure if the second loud crack was the marble breaking or his head hitting it, but judging by the pain radiating up his side, he knew the initial one was a rib breaking.

Alec's yells were becoming increasingly desperate through the ringing, fuzzy state his head was in and he knew that his hold on the ward had dropped because Alec was soon by his side, a careful eye still on the demon who seemed temporarily distracted by the teen once again, its massive hands reaching for the boy who was desperately trying to run up the stairs to avoid being swiped up. "I'm okay, I'm okay," Magnus assured Alec, knowing Catarina would be the first call made after this, cementing this thought in as Alec helped him up.

"How are we going to get rid of it? Think my arrows will be enough for a one-shot?" Alec asked as he walked Magnus towards the pentagram, hesitantly dropping his arm once Magnus regained his senses and pulled away to quickly assess.

"It's hard to tell without seeing what they used in that book the kid has, but I have some ideas." Magnus winced as he leaned down, brushing the board pieces off the pentagram with a muttered 'Careless, idiotic children.' A quick swipe of his magic and the symbol lit up once again, a slow mantra beginning to form in his chest, soon to be bellowed throughout the empty hall. The demon swung around quickly as its attention was grabbed once more, Magnus's hand signalling for Alec to be ready, and this time cat eyes were on the demon fully. One hand was raised with the swirling blue magic, his other hand resting at his aching right side, and from his peripherals he could see Alec's bow raise with at least four arrows lined one after another.

Alexander was a piece of artwork and he would need to be told it later.

Magnus's mantra quickly changed to a spell to banish any chance of the demon returning and the flame-like magic around his hand grew in size, soon flung out sideways to ignite the tips of each of those arrows, small remnants of it swirling up the bow and even up Alec's arms, trailing along lines he knew well- lines he traced every morning when he woke before the other. From the next path it followed, he knew the strength rune hidden under the long sleeves he wore was circled, no doubt already activated but with a little tweak of his magic seeping into Alec's arms, he was giving him just a little extra. The bow was drawn with more ease than he'd seen done before, his bright eyed love dropping to one knee to get the angle he needed and as he finished the spell, the demon roared right as he yelled, "NOW!"

Sharp rows of teeth and pinpoint claws, flaming red eyes and the fury of a hive invaded moved towards them as the arrows let fly, their path direct to where Alec wanted them. One to the temple, one to the throat. Two more landed into the demons chest and the duo were quick to magic and land three more into its chest as Magnus mustered up as much energy as he had left to send a blast of magic at the pentagram to destroy it. The demon turned once more in desperation as its howl brought back that rattle they had felt before in Magnus's apartment, its hand reaching out once more for the teen, one single claw managing to hook into the cornered boys sleeve before dissipating like the rest of its body.

Magnus's chest was heaving as he leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, the three adding to the silence of the now empty home. The boy stumbled down the stairs, sputtering and thanking them for saving him, his feet slipping on dust and loose debris from the demons wreckage as the snakeskin pattern formed on unglamoured skin. Alec's head was bowed and his weapon rested as his side as he let out a slow breath he had clearly been holding for a while now.

"Th-thank you s-so much, we didn't k-know what we were do-"

"We can tell," Magnus snapped, his voice reprimanding like a disappointed father. "Give me this." He said as he snatched the book from the boys hand. "This," he held it up and shook it in front of him, "This is not a toy. Do you have any idea what you kids could have done? People could have been killed. You all could have been killed. Alexander could have been killed and, let me tell you, if anything happened to him, the wrath I would have brought down on you all would have been far greater than that demon. I would-"

"Magnus, he gets it." Alec interjected, the weapon soon glamoured out of sight. While he was clearly behind everything being said, he knew Magnus was clearly hurt and wanted to get him help sooner than later. His hand was gentle on the warlocks lower back and though he still felt that anger bubbling within him, that touch was the tiny bit of peace he needed to take as deep a breath as he could, lowering the book instead of waving it at the boy, who was stunned into silence.

"Another thing, because I doubt you careless lot were ever taught it." The free hand that had been holding his rib lifted, the Goodbye portion of the board rested between index and middle finger. "Always say goodbye to spirits." The piece was flicked forward, a soft pap following it as it lightly hit between the boys eyes.

"Okay, m-mister, but we aren't doing this anymore, s-so..." He rubbed at the area where the piece had hit, as if some kind of curse was left there just by being touched by it. He edged towards the door while watching all around him, only to break into a full sprint to get away.

The duo watched him, a scowl on Magnus's face and concern on Alec's, before both simultaneously let out a loud, relieved sigh. Their eyes met in shock and they both broke out in laughter, though Magnus's was short-lived as his hand returned to his side. "Gods, don't make me laugh." He laugh/groaned, only to then be led to the door.

"Come on, let's call Catarina." Alec said as he held Magnus close to his side.

"And finish our date?" Magnus asked hopefully as they stepped past the police swarming up to the building, invisible to their eye.

Alec chuckled as he brushed plaster and debris off of the front of his shirt. "We'll see."

#malec #my fics

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myaekingheart · 5 years

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33. Better than Instant Ramen

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3

index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

Here's the video for the recipe Rei and Kakashi make together!

Kakashi was determined to make this a perfect night. He and Rei had been busy with their work, so much so that they had hardly seen each other for weeks. Whenever he did catch sight of her, she looked absolutely exhausted. Her hair was even messier than usual, she dragged her feet, and there were dark circles under her eyes. He left a bag of pastries at her doorstep, per usual, with an invitation slapped on the bag: My apartment. Dinner. Friday night. 6pm. It was obviously an offer she couldn’t possibly refuse.

He spent the entire afternoon preparing dinner, so that his apartment by now smelled incredible. He pulled back the curtains so that there was a stunning view of the stars overhead, and even cracked the window open to let in some fresh air. He lit a few candles, then began tidying the books on his shelf when she knocked on the door.

She looked exhausted but had a huge grin on her face as she leapt into his arms and hugged him tightly. “God, I’ve missed you” she sighed into his chest. He hugged her back just as tightly, then ushered her inside. “It smells incredible in here” she commented, surveying the room. He was clearly aiming to achieve a romantic aura, and quite frankly she would say he succeeded. She kicked off her shoes and approached the kitchen, eager to peek in the oven and see what he was cooking. Before she could catch a glance, though, Kakashi slid in front of her and blocked her view.

“Why would you want to go and ruin the surprise?” he asked. He placed his hands on her shoulders, spun her around, and guided her to the table. She sat in the nearest chair, looking up at him with a playful pout as if she was a child who was just reprimanded. “Relax. You look exhausted, so tonight I’m going to treat you.”

“What about you?” she asked as he made his way back to the kitchen. “You’ve been working your ass off, too. Aren’t you tired?”

“Yes” he answered, then added, “But I’ve been doing this far longer than you have. I’ve gotten used to it.” The timer dinged, and Rei attempted to take a peek at whatever Kakashi was pulling out of the oven but he effectively blocked her view. Defeated, she leaned back in her chair and sighed as she awaited dinner. After a few minutes, Kakashi set down two platters of fish and a bottle of sake. He gave Rei that signature masked smile as he sat down across from her, and with locked eyes they ceremoniously chanted Itadaakimasu.

Rei closed her eyes and smiled as she took that first bite of food. She remembered Kakashi being a skilled chef as far back as their childhood, but it was starkly different experiencing the food firsthand after so many years. His skill had drastically improved. “This is so much better than instant ramen every night” she sighed.

Kakashi swallowed his bite, then asked, “You eat instant ramen every night?” Rei shrugged a casual yes. “But don’t you cook at all?”

“I mean, on days off sometimes I’ll make an omelet or rice or something if I care enough but most days…” she started, then groaned and shook her head. “Cooking is too much work. Why waste my energy when my microwave can literally give me dehydrated noodles in a cup in a matter of minutes?”

“You know you can’t live off of instant ramen for the rest of your life, right?” Kakashi asked.

Rei shrugged. “Lots of people do it. Like that little menace who always splatters paint on Hokage Rock. I’m sure he eats exclusively ramen. I see him at Ichiraku all the time.”

“You see my point” Kakashi replied.

“Okay, well what do you expect me to do?” Rei asked. “Actually cook?”

“That’s what everyone else does” Kakashi countered.

A sly smile touched Rei’s lips as she looked down at her plate and picked apart another piece of fish. “I mean, you could just cook for me for the rest of your life” she chuckled.

“And what about when I’m gone?” he asked. “What are you going to do then?”

Rei then raised her chopsticks high above her head in a terrible sense of triumph and shouted, “Instant ramen!”

Kakashi rubbed his forehead in distress, but he was chuckling all the while. “You’re a lost cause, you know that?” he said. Rei simply shrugged and took another bite of her food, but deep down something within Kakashi was taking root. Hadn’t her parents taught her anything? Knowing Hana and Yuruganai, the chances were slim. As much as Hana yearned for her daughter to become a housewife and mother, she also yearned for her daughter to stay put for as long as possible. From what he had seen, he was certain she babied Rei in terms of housework for ages just to keep her trapped there. It was simply’s a mother desperation, even if it was harmful in the end. He hated to think he would have to teach her everything, but he knew there was at least one thing he could take the responsibility of.

Come midnight, Rei decided she ought to head back to her apartment but not without a goodnight kiss first. “This was really great. We should definitely do this again” she sighed, foreheads pressed together. Kakashi smiled.

“How about next week?” he offered. She furrowed her brow a moment, calculating what she knew so far of her work schedule, then grinned up at him and accepted the offer. He smiled back. “Then it’s a date.”

Rei arrived right on time the following Friday night, exhausted and fully prepared to sit back and just enjoy another great meal with her boyfriend. When she entered his apartment, however, there was no incredible fragrance, and nothing in the oven. Rather, there was an array of raw food set out across the countertop and a frying pan on the stove. “Uh…are we having sushi or something?” Rei asked. Kakashi chuckled and shook his head.

“Nope” he replied, guiding her into the kitchen.

“I thought you were having me over for dinner” she said, trying to mask her disappointment.

Kakashi grinned underneath his mask. “I am, but this time you’re cooking it!”

Rei’s face fell. “K-Kakashi, but I don’t know how—” she stammered, but the copy ninja lifted a finger to quiet her and interrupted.

“That’s why I’m going to teach you” he said.

The redhead slumped her shoulders and groaned. “But why? This is so much work!”

“Rei” he replied sternly, “Learning to cook is essential to living on your own. You’re going to have to learn sooner or later.”

Crossing her arms, she pouted and averted her eyes from him, muttering, “I can’t believe you’d deceive me like this.”

Kakashi, however, just chuckled and pulled her closer so that she was squarely in front of the counter. “Step one is preparation. I’m going to need you to cut up all of these vegetables” he explained, holding up a knife. Before her sat carrots, cabbage, and a large onion, most of which she couldn’t even begin to comprehend how to cut because they were all round. When Kakashi noticed the hesitance on her face, however, he wedged the knife into her hands and then slid in behind her so that he could guide her through the motions.

Rei of course did her fair share of complaining the entire time, saying this was far too much work and asking why they couldn’t just go out to eat (“Restaurants are expensive, you can’t eat out every night” he’d argue, to which Rei would counter with “That’s why some nights there’s instant ramen!”), but Kakashi refused to let her quit. He guided her through all the steps, warned her about the stove dials and how she didn’t need to turn it up quite so high, and showed her how to mix everything in the pan so it would all cook evenly.

By the time 8pm rolled around, Rei was so sick and tired of this. The kitchen was hot and she was tired and this was taking way too long. Kakashi watched from afar for a while, then stepped up and tested the food for completion. Once he was sure everything was cooked thoroughly, he smiled down at her and announced, “You’re all finished.” He flicked off the stove, moved the frying pan to a cool burner, and grabbed a bowl for each of them.

“It’s probably going to taste like shit. It’s probably going to kill you. I wouldn’t even try it, honestly” Rei complained as Kakashi divided the portions among their bowls. He handed her a pair of chopsticks and followed her to the table. “You know, we should just get up and go to Ichiraku right now so we can avoid the food poisoning we’re definitely going to get.”

“Don’t be so cynical” Kakashi told her. “I’m sure it’ll taste fine! Besides, I was right beside you the whole time. I wouldn’t let you feed me anything that would kill me.” Rei rolled her eyes and laughed mockingly, angrily grabbing a wad of pork and vegetables with her chopsticks and shoving it in her mouth. She paused a moment, and Kakashi looked at her anxiously. “Well?” he asked. She looked at him with wide eyes, as if she was taken aback, finished chewing and then swallowed. A smile tugged at his lips—he could tell she liked what she had made.

Rei shrugged and poked at the rest of her food. “Well, I mean, it’s alright. It’s not, like, mind-blowingly delicious or anything, but like…it’s stir fry. It’s, you know…it’s fine” she replied nonchalantly. Kakashi could tell she was struggling to keep the smile off her face.

Kakashi chuckled. “You like it, don’t you?” he asked. The redhead fed him a death glare as she angrily shoved another chopstick-full into her mouth.

“Don’t expect me to make a habit of this!” she protested. “It’d be fine for a once in a while thing, I guess. You know, if I’m feeling energetic or whatever.” Smiling, Kakashi pulled down his mask and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. Rei’s face turned bright red. “What was that for?”

“Nothing in particular” Kakashi replied. “I’m just proud of you. You did a good job for your first time.”

“You really think so?” Rei asked.

The copy ninja nodded. “I’m not dead, am I?” he joked.

“Fair point” Rei replied. They sat together eating their stir fry in comfortable silence, watching the stars twinkle through the open window. A soft, cool breeze blew into the apartment, fluttering the curtains and brushing against their faces. A dog barked down the street. Everything was good.

#kakashi hatake #rei natsuki #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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thehuggamugcafe · 6 years

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15. Kiss In The Rain

A whisper of “ah?” left the mouth of a certain barista, flicking her dark eyes to stare at the window from where she stood, lording over the stove in the prep area. The young manager of the Huggamug Café held a soup ladle in her right hand, expertly gripping a salt shaker and a pepper shaker between the fingers of her left hand. The hearty chicken soup that she was stirring bubbled, flicking a momentary glance away from the prep area’s window to bring her attention back to the pot of soup.

The burner underneath the large soup pot was a bright orange, the overhead fan whirling as steam wafted out from the pot before a drop lid was set on top of the pot, ensuring its contents remained hot as she reached over the pot to turn down the heat a few notches. Eira reached up, a finger pressing on the fan’s switch. The fan still whirled onward, its speed decreasing as it was little more than a soft hum. The barista’s eyes returned to stare out the window of the prep area, clicking her tongue.

“...Hm. Did the forecast call for rain this evening?” she muttered, blinking owlishly.

Rain pitter-pattered off of the window’s glass pane, played soft, droning musical notes on the café’s rooftop, and thoroughly drenched anything outside. The exterior, windows, rooftops, and signs of various establishments, traffic lights and lamp posts. Cars sped by, splashing the sidewalks with a wave of cold water. People quickly sought shelter in the closest brightly lit shop or their own houses, or braved the downpour, walking underneath umbrellas and wrapped in heavy spring coats.

Unexpectedly, the prep door swung open, revealing the all too familiar smirking visage of a certain man. A snicker left the bespectacled noiret, raising a hand and readjusting the glasses perched on his nose, pushing them up a bit.

“What’s made you so chipper?” she asked, quirking a brow as a bubble of curiosity rose up inside her.

“What would you say if I said it was seeing you, Boss~?”

Eira tutted, rolled her eyes for good measure, and breathed a sigh past her pursed lips.

“I’d ask you if you were either inebriated or cross-eyed. I’d also tell you to get your ass back to work, troublemaker. Besides,” she paused, the corner of her lips twitching. “You see me for 8 hours a day, five days a week; you must be getting sick of seeing my face by now,” she said, smiling slightly.

Despite the irritated edge to her voice, the corners of her lips curled up and her dark eyes shone faintly. It was quite obvious, to him, that she was joking with him, teasing him in her odd mannerism.

The sarcastic undertone in her voice earned a chuckle from her co-worker.

“I’d never get tired of seeing your cute face.”

“My face, cute? Riiiight. You must be on drugs, Kurusu.”

Eira didn’t bother to try and hide another eye-roll, the corners of her lips quirking upward as she turned on her heels, directing her attention back to the pot of soup that was in front of her. She reached forward with a hand, her fingers gripping the drop lid and removing it, setting it aside as she stirred the soup ladle clockwise, counter-clockwise, and clockwise before turning her attention back on Akira.

“Flattery isn’t going to spare you from work, you know,” the young manager said, staring pointedly at the noiret man.

“Oho? So you’re admitting that I’ve finally succeeding in flattering you, Boss~?”

“By the tiniest of margins, you goofball. Get back to work already. Shoo, shoo.”

Eira made a shooing motion with her left hand, pointing her index finger at the prep area’s door. A silent motion for him to leave her to work in relative peace.

“...Are you sure you don’t want help?”

“I think I can manage just fine, thank you,” she replied, pursing her lips slightly.

There was no joking or sarcastic edge to her voice anymore; she spoke quiet words that oozed nothing but calm authority, and nothing else. The head barista kept her stare honed on Akira for a few more moments before, at last, turning her attention back to the stove she was all but lording over.

The bespectacled man nodded, pivoting on his heels and leaving the way he came, the prep door sliding open and shut as he left the prep area.

Sighing, Eira continued to stir the ladle before, finally, lifting it out of the large cooking pot, scooping out a generous helping of the pot’s simmering contents and pouring it into one of the bowls that were set on a silver tray on the counter-top. She mimicked this particular action, scooping out soup with the ladle and pouring it into a bowl, until all three bowls were filled with equal portions of piping hot chicken soup.

Eira set the ladle back into the large pot of soup, pausing only to set the drop lid down on its open top before she leaned back, observing the serving tray with a keen-eyed glare. Three bowls of soup, three bread rolls, three decadent slices of chocolate cake, three spoons, forks, and napkins. Three assorted beverages completed the order: tea, coffee, and mint hot cocoa.

Eira nodded, satisfied as she picked up the serving tray, carrying it in both hands as she walked to the prep area’s door, bumping it open with her hip as it swayed open, sliding shut as she entered the main area of the Huggamug Café. The service area.

The service area where several customers, the majority of whom were females with a few males here and there, talked, laughed, and joked as they ate or drank.

The service area where the flirtatious giggles of three young ladies rose up from a certain table.

The very same table where a certain man stood, casually chatting with the customers, a charming smile pulling on his lips as he raised a hand, readjusting the black-framed glasses as they were pushed up on his nose a bit.

“Hey,” she said, giving her noiret co-worker a small, piercing stare as she approached the table. The sharp click-clicks of her suede shoes gave her approaching gait away, but she ignored it in favour of giving him one last lukewarm glare as she began to set down the customers’ orders in front of them.

When the last part of the order, a steaming cup of mint cocoa, had been set down in front of one of the young women, Eira turned her attention to the smiling man, a frown curling her lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked point-blank, not even trying to sugarcoat her question.

“Working.”

“...Really? Looks more like shameless flirting to me.”

“Ohh? Could someone be jealous of—ow!”

Before Akira could talk any further Eira reached forward, pinching the noiret man’s earlobe between her thumb and index fingers, tugging on it for good measure.

“Get. Back. To. Work. Akira,” she said, enunciating each word she spoke with a tug of the man’s ear. She released the skin she’d pinched between her fingers, the skin that was reddish in tone.

“This is assault, you know,” Akira muttered, raising a hand and rubbing his sore earlobe.

“You’ll live. Now,” Eira paused to stick a hand into the pockets of her barista apron, withdrawing her notepad and softly hitting it against Akira’s clothed chest. “Work.”

“Yes, yes, Boss.”

The girlish giggles of the three women hung in the café’s atmosphere as the manager pivoted on her heels, the sharp click-clicks of her suede heels were heard as she made her way over to another table.

Akira sighed, rubbing his sore earlobe one last time before turning on his heels, a smile already pulling on his lips as he felt a finger tap him on the shoulder, turning to address a table with four female customers. They all ogled the frizzy-haired man with the same doe eyes, the same flirtatious smiles curled their lips, and they broke out into the same bout of giggles as he smirked at them.

“What would you lovely ladies like to eat tonight? Something delicious?”

Eventually, the time for closing rolled around. Eira and Akira bowed in unison as the last of the customers were leaving, the small bell above the café’s door released a soft jingle as the door was opened, shutting as the customers left.

Eira breathed a sigh, pointing her icy irises on the noiret who stood on her left.

“...Good work today, Kurusu,” the manager said, nodding in what appeared to be approval. However, she soon frowned, her eyes honed in on a lone customer who loitered near the café’s door, peering out through the window, staring at the rain.

“Excuse me. It’s closing time, miss,” Eira spoke, her voice causing the customer to stiffen at being addressed by the owner and manager of the Huggamug Café.

The duo watched as the customer turned around, appearing a bit sheepish as she mumbled what sounded like, “I forgot my umbrella, and I don’t feel safe walking home by myself in the rain.”

“...Kurusu, could you walk her home? Make sure she gets there with no issues?”

“Naturally,” the bespectacled barista chimed in, smiling as his fingers fluidly unfastened the straps belonging to his barista apron.

The frizzy-haired employee slid the green straps off of his clothed shoulders, passing it off to the owner, who took it with a barely-there scowl pinching her youthful visage.

“Let us go then. I’ll see you later, Boss~.”

Eira watched as Akira walked the customer to the café’s door, pausing long enough to remove an umbrella from the umbrella stand near the café’s entrance, a frown pursing her lips. Eira was still frowning as the noiret man opened the door, holding it open for the customer to step on through. There was a momentary pause as the customer stepped out into the light downpour, stopping to glance at Akira as he exited the café, shutting the door behind him as he left.

Eira lingered long enough to watch as Akira opened the umbrella, holding it so that it shielded both him and the female customer from the light downpour. The bespectacled noiret paused to smile down at the customer as the two began to walk down the sidewalk, kicking up small splashes of rain with each step.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, the owner and manager of the Huggamug Café breathed an exhale. Eira voiced a short “tsk” as she muttered, “At least he had sense enough to take an umbrella.”

“Achoo!”

The quiet sneeze came from Akira, sniffling as a brief gust of wind past by the couple, a droning whistle echoing through the streets that were desolate, empty save for a few souls who braved the downpour and the gusty embrace of the cold wind, bundled up in their heavy spring coats.

“Bless you,” the female muttered, her words bellying a hint of flustered sheepishness as she smiled.

“You’re so kind, my lady,” Akira drawled lazily, voicing a snicker as he caught the faintest hint of a blush dusting her cheeks as they flared anew with colour, already red from the cold evening air.

“Maybe someone is talking about you?” she suggested, earning an owlish blink from the bespectacled young man.

“Ah?”

“When you sneeze, someone is talking about you.”

“Is that so?” Akira asked, smiling at the thought.

Are you thinking about me when I’m not there, Boss? he mused mentally, chuckling to himself at the thought. He made a mental note to teasingly suggest that she, Eira, was falling for her employee and co-worker before he left for the night.

“Most people just assume it’s nothing more than a superstition, of course.”

“I see.”

Akira and the female regular made small talk as they walked, the young woman doing most of the talking, whereas Akira nodded, occasionally tossing in a thought here and there to further stimulate the conversation.

Finally, the pair arrived at the woman’s residence. Akira was delighted to discover that she lived in the same apartment building as he did, much to his amusement.

“Thank you for helping me get home safely, Akira.”

Akira chuckled as he he crooned, “You’re welcome, my dear. It was my pleasure to assist you.”

When the woman nodded and smiled, ready to pivot on her heels and walk into the lobby of the apartment building, Akira’s eyes shimmered with mischief behind the specs he wore.

Now’s my chance... I wonder how you will react, miss?

“Pardon me a moment, but aren’t you forgetting something~?”

The woman was confused, blinking as she stared up at the noiret man.

“Huh? But I just thanked you-”

“No, no. I’m talking about a reward, sweetheart.”

“A reward?”

“Yes, a reward for seeing that you made it home safely. Surely you wouldn’t leave without giving the gentleman before you a treat?”

“Um... Sure.”

Sheepishly, shyly, the woman stood on the tips of her toes, pressing a kiss to Akira’s cheek.

For a moment, there was only the heavy pitter-patter of rain hitting the sidewalk, the sound of cold rainwater being sucked down into storm drains, and the telltale noise as water was splashed onto the sidewalk whenever a car sped by, but finally, there was another noise.

A laugh. A snicker. An amused chuckle.

“...That’s it? I’m afraid I’ll have to take more from you, darling.”

“B-But...”

“Shh.”

Any further protests the woman tried to voice were silenced by Akira pressing a finger to her lips, a smirk touching his as his onyx gaze stared down into her shining irises.

“...If you want to me to stop, say so. I will stop, no questions asked. You have my word, darling; I’m a gentleman, after all. Do we have a deal?”

Slowly, the woman nodded, clearly not trusting her voice as she swallowed a gulp.

“...Wonderful.”

Several things happened in the span of a few seconds. Akira leaned his finger away from her lips--only for his mouth to press against hers, slipping an arm around her waist to bring her closer to him the moment their lips connected.

The noiret took several, quick, soft lip-locks from the woman, smiling into one particularly heated kiss, breathing a laugh into her mouth as he felt her grasp at the front of his black coat with her slim, dainty fingers, shyly tugging him closer.

“My, my. You’re not quite so shy now are you, kitten?”

Akira laughed as the woman shot him the smallest of glares, earning a snicker from the onyx-eyed young man for his efforts as he cooed, “You’re so adorable when you get indignant like that.”

The noiret smirked, relishing in a small jolt of victory as he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, where her neck met the curve of her shoulder, as she jumped in place.

Akira pressed a kiss to her cool skin, drenched with droplets of cold rain, smirking as she shuddered in response.

“So sensitive,” Akira murmured, his lips curving as he breathed on the skin of her neck, the brief breeze whispering across her throat.

Again, the woman shuddered in response, breathing in sharply through her teeth as she raised a hand, gingerly tapping Akira’s clothed shoulder.

“...Alright. You were marvelous, and so sweet, sugar,” Akira said, a noticeable purr clinging to the edge of his voice as he talked.

A blush darkened the woman’s cheeks, something that caused Akira’s smirking lips to twitch.

“Well then, I bid you a good night, dear. Will I ever see you again?”

Shyly, the woman nodded, shifting her feet as she mumbled an affirmation that, yes, she would stop by the Huggamug Café the next chance she got. Akira’s shoulders shook as he chuckled.

“I look forward to catering to your orders again. Have a good evening.”

The woman turned around, and the noiret man watched as she walked up the saturated steps that led up to the apartment building. Akira continued to watch as she entered the brightly lit lobby, the glass door sliding open and closing shut as she entered.

Akira turned on his heels, still smirking to himself as he began the walk back to the café.

His onyx irises glinted with flecks of crimson as he whispered, “I cannot wait for tomorrow morning.”

#persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #incubus!akira #request #anonymous request #answered request #I want the 'k' prompt #sfw #it's pretty tame compared to what I usually write #The Nasty Crimeboy just wants to have fun!#your barista is feeling unmotivated right now #but I will answer every one of my requests!#please enjoy this treat everyone!#the ending was pretty lackluster

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some-cookie-crumbz · 6 years

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Aquamarine

Aquamarine Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary:Continuation of [this] fic; warning for a lot blood! With time running out, Keith is now face-to-face with the Almighty Jufaruta to determine if he is worthy of the elixir that could save Pidge’s life. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: Not much to say except that I hope you all enjoy Day 6 here!

The inside of the temple was dank, smelling of stale water and damp dirt, and the chamber he walked into was a deep, rich violet color. There were bright yellow tapestries depicting the same creature as the statues fighting off various other creatures to protect the denizens of the planet. There was another small staircase across the room from him, leading to the next chamber, but settled on the top of the steps was a large beast similar to the statures outside. They were the size of a horse, with a thick coat of sandy colors with a white muzzle and black tufts on its ears and in intricate swirls along its shoulders and paws. The two upper sets of eyes were closed and the lower set were just barely cracked open. It’s tail swayed and twisted behind it, the mace-like object seeming to be made of soft, fur-like material. “Are you the Jufaruta guarding this elixir?” He asked cautiously.

The Jufaruta turned, walking toward the open passage to the next area without a sound, and a small platform raised in the center of the room. There was a small golden jar on the top.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do? Can’t you give me a hint?” He called out, frantic.

It looked back at him over it’s shoulder, standing just past the threshold of the next chamber, before it’s third set of eyes closed and the door slammed shut behind it.

“Okay, so I’m on my own?” He grumbled angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, a conversation from a long time ago.

“These things never make any sense,” He grumbled, his head tilted as they watched the protagonist of the film jump past a pit of spikes.

“What do you mean?” Pidge asked, lifting her head from his shoulder to gaze up at him curiously. She reached into the bowl of psuedo-popcorn they had brought out with them for the film, grabbed a handful, and tossed a piece into his mouth. They had decided to marathon a few action flicks since they had the free time and, being on to the third film, he’d noticed a trend developing in regards to Gaduratu’s most recent exploration of some extinct-cultures ancient artifacts.

“These ancient temples always have super-complicated secrets to figure out in order to get through them,” He said, indicating the latest chamber that was filled with marked stones and a floor of lava.

“They aren’t super-complicated,” She explained with a small snort, “if you’re good with riddles. That’s all they really are at their core, after all; riddles that you have to solve in order to get through. They’re not too terribly difficult if you concentrate. Just think of it like the trials from when you were joining the Blade.”

He took a deep breathe and slowly approached the jar in the center and eyed it curiously. “What did that plaque say, again? Something about tasting without consuming, sensing without seeing, trusting without knowing and speaking without hearing, I think? So I guess this would be that first one then,” He mumbled twisting off the top of the jar. Underneath what looked to be a long, slim needle of some sort. There was a small liquid dripping from the jagged tip; either a poison or some kind of drug, he reasoned.

With a nervous gulp, he reached forward and prodded the tip of his index finger against it. The tip was as sharp as he expected, leaving a small cut. He then pressed the cut into the liquid, forcing himself to hold steady despite the sting until he was sure a decent amount had gotten into the wound. A rumbling noise echoed in the chamber and the door lifted again. “So I guess that was the right approach. Thanks for the tip, Pidge,” He mumbled, glancing from the cut to the open entrance. He paused long enough to use a small bandage to cover the little mark and then rushed forward.

The Jufaruta was settled beside a large glowing orb in the center of the room, which seemed to be suspended by an electric current running through it via two plates on the ceiling and floor respectively, cleaning it’s paw with long strokes of its pale blue tongue. The walls of the room were a bright and welcoming yellow hue. There were more tapestries hanging from the walls, identical to the ones in the previous room, but were actually a smoky grey color this time around. The Jufaruta’s lowest set of eyes were open now, a luminous and glowing orange color with lime green pupils that looked like a diamond as opposed to a circle, and the second set up were cracked just a bit now. It perked up and licked it’s chops at the sight of him, almost seeming to be grinning. It carefully hoped down from the orb and took a few steps closer, it’s nose twitching as it sniffed around.

It got close enough that Keith could have touched it, gently tapping its cold nose against the very tip of his covered finger, before letting a soft purr-like sound that he took as satisfaction. It then retreated back towards the orb, tail flicking back and forth in an almost amused fashion. Keith noticed in specific that the little orb at the end seemed to be more solid and firm now as well. It hopped up in one long jump, and skid it the edge of it’s tail along the plate keeping the orb in place, seeming to flick some kind of switch. It wobbled and teetered, barely kept in place by the lower current, and it began to get darker, the top half of the orb flickering off. The rumbling continued and that was when Keith realized that it wasn’t only the orb wobbling, but the whole room itself. The orb maintained both the lighting of the room but also the gravitational pull of it.

He received another purr as his only warning before the Jufaruta dragged it’s tail along the lower plate and sent the room into darkness and orbit.

Keith growled and pulled out his blade, digging it into the ground below him as everything flipped upside down around him. He heard the orb crash into what had previously been the ceiling and roll about as the room slowly rocked back and forth. “Okay, the second part… Sense without seeing… Which I assume means that I need to get that orb back in place and turn those switches back on again,” He grumbled to himself before there was a whooshing noise in his ear, something loud slamming into the stone just past his head, landing in beside his sword. A skittering noise that reminded him of insect sounds started to creep closer and he growled. “Of course there had to more to this than that!” He snapped, yanking his sword free and curling into himself as he headed towards the ground, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Sense without seeing, huh? Well, good thing they’d had that training exercise with the Lions.

He forced himself to find his center and suddenly a strange tingling sensation crept up from the small cut in his finger, up his arm and settled all throughout his body. When he opened his eyes, it felt as if he wasn’t actually seeing, but instead reading the energy. The room was still pure black, but the walls were outlined in a low dim white hue while the orb was a near-blinding gold. It was also rolling its way to be beneath him. He reached his arms out and pushed on it once he got close enough, pushing it back and managing to get his feet settled on it. It swayed from side to side and he had to keep moving, but he had a decent handle on it. He stole a glance up to see the creature that had attacked him, which was outlined with bright red energy, hissed and dropped down to join him.

Through what the energy revealed, it was like a giant three-tailed scorpion with horns akin to that of a bull. It dropped and narrowly missed landing on him, pushed back by his block with his sword. He growled as it’s jagged back legs jabbed into the orb, cracking it a bit and creating a makeshift foothold for itself. It swung at him with all three tails, trying to impale him, but he shifted and blocked. He stole a quick glance around then smirked, shifting to push the orb to the left.

When he did, the creature hissed in distress as it was dragged along in the wide circle.

It was hard keeping his balance as he ran atop the sphere, managing to flip from the original ceiling to one side of the room, but he managed it somehow. And as long as he kept moving, the creature seemed unable to dislodge it’s limbs from where they’d stuck them in. He grinned and looked at the wall opposite him, trying to track down the first platform that needed to be reactivated. Once it was locked partly back into place it was just a matter of using his jet pack to reach the upper switch. The creature hissed again and one of it’s tails swung at him blindly, narrowing missing his cheek. He stumbled back, rolling the orb, then growled. He ran across the orb until where the creature was pinned was underneath the orb and then charged forward.

He flinched at the loud crunch of the creature underneath the weight of the glorified pinball but quickly focused again.

From where he was positioned, he would be able to reach the switch if he jumped for it. He walked along the wall until he was face to face with it. He only knew where it was because, strangely enough, it was the only portion of the room that wasn’t lit up with some kind of energy. He felt around and smirked at what felt like a slim, narrow piece jutting out from a part of it. A quick flick up and sudden;y the room rumbled again, the orb starting to float beneath his feet.

He jumped free of it and activated his jet pack, making his way towards the top as the light slowly began to creep back into the room. He used his blade to nudge the other switch back in to place, worried that the current might zap him or something. The whole room was briefly enveloped in light so bright he had to shut his eyes, and when he opened them again his vision had returned to normal. A quick glance around the room revealed that any damage that may have been done by the orb crashing and rolling around was gone, as well as the nick in the stone from where he’d lodged his blade. There also seemed to be no evidence of the strange scorpion beast that had attacked him.

But the Jufaruta was also gone. Meaning it had probably snuck out once the room turned into a carnival ride.

He headed through the next passageway, using his jet pack still in hopes of spending the process along. This room was a smoky grey while the tapestries were an almost teal color this time. The center of the room, however, was a bit strange. Unlike being the same color as the ceilings or walls as the other two rooms had been, the floor seemed to be make of soil here. He scoffed a bit and focused on the open passageway ahead of him, assuming that this room was just a small rest spot before the last two trials. The minute he passed to about the halfway point of the room his jet pack suddenly cut out and he was plummeting downwards. The surface he fell into was not soil, but more akin to something like the bed of a swamp, and he ended up only being in up to his waist. “Damnit!” He cursed, trying to push his way through it. The more he squirmed, though, the farther in he sunk towards the center.

It was something like quick sand, he realized with a small snarl. It didn’t take long until one of his arms was completely submerged and the other was only loose because he had the foresight to lift it above his head. “Why are you doing this, Keith?” A tired voice asked in front of him.

His head shot up and he gasped at the figure squatting down in front of him. “Pidge,” He breathed.

She looked like her but also unlike her, as odd as it sounded. She wasn’t clad in her Paladin armor any longer, but was still wearing her flight suit and she still have bits of dried blood and grime on her. He knew she wasn’t physically with him; both because it was a logical impossibility but also because she cast no shadow and she seemed to be hovering less than a centimeter above the strange molasses-like substance. She leaned her elbows on her bent knees and flashed him a small, sad smile. “Were you expecting Santa Claus?”

“How are you here?” He asked, his struggling halting completely. If he didn’t move, he noticed in the back of his mind, it seemed like the substance stopped pulling on him so much.

“Astral projection,” She explained with a small shrug. She then looked back at how deep he’d sunken in and sighed. “Keith, this isn’t going to help anything, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll figure a way out of this,” He said, glaring down at the dark brown liquid.

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” She said. His head snapped up to focus in on her, a heavy weight made of dread starting to weigh down on his stomach. “You need to stop this. This whole mission… It’s ridiculous. You’re just wasting time and resources.”

“No, I’m not!”

“A long time ago, you told me that the lives of two people weren’t more important than the rest of the universe,” She said calmly. He tensed up and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from arguing. “I have accepted that I won’t be making it out of this alive, and now you need to. I have enough strength to pull you out of there and get you back to the ledge before I have to return to my body and wait for the final moment. This is the way it has to be, Keith.” She offered one hand to him and he stared between it and her, feeling his heart start to ache. A flicker of movement behind her caught his attention suddenly.

It was the Jufaruta. The second set of eyes were now open – lime green irises with bright pink pupils – and the third set was cracked. Trust without knowing.

He took a breath and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. She let out a small startled noise and he only stopped tugging when their foreheads were nearly touching. He tilted his head and gently pressed his cheek against her hand, surprised that it felt real but disappointed at how cold it was, and held her gaze steady with his own. “I will save you, Pidge. I promise,” He vowed before taking another deep breath, releasing her, and willingly diving underneath the surface of whatever he was trapped in.

“Keith!” She cried just as he disappeared, but then everything went silent. He tried flapping one of his hands near his ear, expecting to hear the slight jostle of water, but no sounds came from it. He shifted and started to swim in the direction he’d been getting pulled towards. The closer he got, the easier moving got, until he reached a point where he simply let whatever current it was drag him along. He tried to remain calm the longer he was under, but as he got closer to running out, he became fearful that he had chosen the wrong path. His mouth opened, letting what little air he had left out, and he grabbed at his throat.

And suddenly he was falling again.

He landed on a soft, blush surface that slowly slid apart and pushed him down, kind of like some strange automated slide. He forced his eyes open and took in a heaving breath, looking up at the dimly glowing ceiling of what he could only call an underground cavern. There were stalactites hanging from the ceiling, little flickering stones of various colors decorating them, and for a moment he just laid there pliant and trying to catch back up. There was a dull ache in his head, so he pressed his thumbs up against the tops of his eyes to try and get it to subside, at least temporarily. He then smirked and flipped the bird at the ceiling. “I was right,” He said before lifting his head and starting to push up.

As he did, the material he was leaning back against shifted to help push him upright. The whole area that he was in was lit solely by the stones in the stalactites, creating a pathway towards a large, glowing room a few feet away. Still a bit unsteady on his feet, he moved at a regular walking space along the path, wondering what the next trial the Jufaruta had for him would entail. The only virtue left was speaking without hearing, but he wasn’t exactly sure how that worked.

The cavern he walked into was a gorgeous underground lake.

The room was filled to the brim with pastel colored stone, with a narrow path leading to a circular sitting area in the dead center of the lake, and bore a pleasant aroma that made him think of milk and honey. There were two small benches there, with Pidge settled at one and the Jufaruta seated beside her. The Jufaruta was sitting behind the bench with it’s fore paws resting on the empty space beside Pidge, all three eyes open and watching Keith with what he could only call amusement. Despite how far away from it he was, it’s eyes were glowing so bright he could still make out the colors; bright pink for the irises with pupils that were the bright orange of the lowest sets irises. He stole a quick glance at the waters of the lake, where he was certain the smell was coming from. It was the same color as the tapestries in the other room and he now recognized the color as being aquamarine.

He looked ahead and walked along the path towards the Jufaruta, his headache becoming more aggressive with each step.

“Please, take a seat, traveler,” Pidge said once he got within earshot, her lips turning up a small grin and one hand gesturing with an elegant wave. Keith scowled and then gasped when he looked at her eyes.

They were not the usual warm honey tint he was used to, but had become three rings of orange, green and pink. “So you created a figment of Pidge to try and trick me,” He growled lowly, but moved to do as he was told. Once he was seated, he crossed his arms and let one leg bounce, rage rushing through him. But how had the creature figured out what Pidge looked and sounded like? Or know about her at all?

Pidge giggled and covered her mouth with one hand, an act far too demure for his liking. “Heavens me, you think so loud! But to answer your question simply, no, this is not an illusion or a trick. I was able to call forward this young woman’s astral self by using your memories to put together what was motivating you through my trials!” She said calmly. As she spoke the Jufaruta purred, low and pleased, along with her. “Which, I must say, I am impressed. It has been many a century since last a warrior came to seek my fortunes and even more so since they made it this far. Tell me, what brings you here?”

“I have come to get the elixir, so that I can save her – Pidge – from dying,” He said, looking first at the Jufaruta itself and then to Pidge when he specified her name. His gaze softened on her astral form seated there. “She shouldn’t be dying like this, not right now.”

Pidge heaved a small sigh and rolled her eyes. “Is that all? You are not the first come for the elixir with such a reason. Playing God under the false pretense of saving a loved one seems to be a favorite of the selfish that have come here before you,” She said, seeming bored now.

“She isn’t meant to die now or like this,” He said, forcing himself to remain calm despite the rage slowly brewing inside of him.

“You do not know that; you are simply deciding that for yourself,” She scoffed. It got under his skin, how this thing was using her voice and her mouth to tell him lies. “The truth tends to be difficult for baser life forms such as yourself to hear, but I won’t censor myself. Now, either explain to me why your desire deserves to be fulfilled before I eviscerate you for wasting my time.”

“That’s the thing; it doesn’t necessarily deserve to be fulfilled,” Keith admitted, causing the Jufaruta to perk up. All six eyes blinked in unison and it said nothing, so he continued on. “The fact is that everyone’s morality is different, and all requests are selfish in some way, shape or form. There’s nothing I can say or do to truly convince you that my reason for wanting this elixir is any better than anyone else. All I can do is be genuine in saying that I love Pidge and I am afraid of losing her. And I would rather rush off to take a shot in the dark to save her than simply accept that there’s nothing I can do to change this.” The Jufaruta stared at him for a moment before it grinned again, Pidge’s expressions mirroring it, and both their eyes began glowing with the same white lights the statutes had emanated outside.

When he was able to see again, he was in the first room all over again, the golden jar sealed before him. The Jufaruta was seated at the top of the stairs again, but he noticed there was no longer a passageway behind him. Astral Pidge was gone, as well. He looked from the Jufaruta to the jar before cautiously twisting off the lid.

Instead of the needle and dripping drug, the jar was hollowed out and filled near to the brim with the aquamarine liquid from the underground cavern. He stared at his reflection in the small surface before slowly lifting his head to stare at the amused creature watching him. The tingling sensation from before surged through him, and his mouth opened without his urging. “I see with eyes that are unclouded, baser life form. By speaking to me on my terms and rejecting to hear the logic of the world you hail from, I chose to fill your request,” When his mouth closed, the sensation was gone and he shook his head in surprise.

“Thank you, Almighty Jufaruta, He said, quick but sincere, and bowed to it before snatching up the jar and making a beeline out of the temple. According to the time, he’d be able to make it fifteen minutes before Pidge’s time was up if he was fast.

…………………………………………………………

In the end, he made it even sooner. He had apparently impressed the Jufaruta quite a bit because his ship had been sitting right outside of the temple when he stepped out, which saved him a full thirty minutes of hiking. The minute he was out of the thicket and able to open the comms, he called up the Castle Ship and told them what he’d acquired. Shiro had been stunned but also clearly thrilled, turning around and starting to bark orders to the rest of the team about getting everything set up in preparation for whatever the procedure could entail. Allura had flashed him a proud smile before telling him that she’d get in touch with Matt to let him know that Pidge should be healed and safe once he arrived.

Keith had flown reckless and fast before but never as much so as he did making it back to the Team.

Coran greeted him the minute he disembarked and the two walked as quick and in step toward the medical wing as they could. “How much did it give you?”

“The jar is completely full,” He said, looking from door to door in search of the one Pidge was in.

“How much do we need to give her to heal her?” He asked as they rounded a corner. The rest of the team was standing outside of the door, watching them with anxious and red-rimmed eyes.

“Dunno. Gonna give her a bit, see how much it does, and give her more as I need to,” He said bluntly as they headed into the room. Lance and Coran were right behind him while Hunk, Shiro and Allura watched through the large window into the room. The curtains had been drawn earlier but they were wide open now, leaving them to gaze at his back as he came to her side. The shrapnel was still in her, but it had been shaved down some. “We’re gonna have to remove that first, or else the injury might try to heal around it.” He pointed out.

“I’ll get a fresh blood bag ready,” Lance said, darting over to the cooling unit that they were kept in. Keith had never been more grateful that Lance had taken an additional interest in the healing and medical technology of Altean’s as he was in that moment. Once it was all hooked up and situated, Lance headed over to another drawer and started shifting through until he returned with a syringe. “We can put the elixir in this to make it easier. If we wake her up to have her drink it after we move that metal out of her, she might go into shock and choke on it. If we inject it straight into her heart it should spread fast enough before she can bleed out.” He nodded and opened the jar, watching as Lance filled it up. He made a small noise of surprise at the color and then set it on the small supply table beside Pidge’s bed.

“You might want to step back for this,” Coran advised. Keith did as he was told, moving to stand in the space above Pidge’s head so Lance could take his spot and leaving the closed jar on the supply table in case they needed more of it. Between Lance and Coran, they shifted Pidge slowly and carefully to her good side so they could remove the shrapnel. An egregious amount of blood gushed out from both ends of the wound and for a moment Keith felt panicked that she’d be dead before anything more could be done. Her chest had been rising and falling slowly as it was, but with the severity of the hemorrhaging it started to slow even more. With a small, determined growl, Lance seized up the syringe, jammed it down in the center of her heart, and pushed down on the syringe plunger steadily until it was empty.

A quiet thump sounded from outside the room and Hunk’s face disappeared from the viewing. Keith felt a pang of sympathy; if not for his adrenaline pumping so hard he would have fainted, too.

The three watched, holding their breath, as slowly little flickers of light began to bloom from Pidge’s injuries. They glimmered and gleamed like the stones in the cavern, appearing over where her skin had been sliced and diced, and then fading out to the same soft peach color as her skin. Her chest began to heave more and more, breathing steady and normal, and slowly she cracked her eyes, whining a bit at the bright lights around her. “Katie?” Keith breathed uneasily, shaky hands coming up to hover just above her face.

They opened about halfway and shifted to fix on him, tired but also the breathtaking brown hue he’d become enamored by. She flashed him a tired smile, licking her lips a bit in preparation for speaking. “Let Kolivan know I’m kicking his ass next time I see him,” She croaked out, trying to be playful.

A hiccuping sob of relief bubbled out of him and he pressed his forehead against her, hands finally resting against her cheeks to trace with his thumbs. “I’ll hold him while you hit,”

#Voltron legendary defender #Keidge #Kidge #Peith #Kidgemas #keidgemonth2k18 #kidgemonth2k18 #Pidge Gunderson #Keith Kogane #my fics #I watched the Teen Titans episode where Robin goes to train with the master #with my nephew while I was writing this #so if you notice some similarities to that #there is a reason #tw: blood

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darnedchild · 6 years

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Molly Hooper Appreciation Week Winter 2018 - Day 6

Also on FFdotNet and Ao3

MHAW Day Six – Day 6 - Love The Way You ___ (Fanworks focusing on particular things loved about Molly)

Only one more day left of Molly Hooper Appreciation Week Winter 2018 AND I’ve already written my fic for it. Which means . . . That’s 6 full Appreciation Weeks down - 42 fics over (combined) 42 days. Next is Sherlolly Appreciation week at the beginning of March. Fingers crossed I’ll manage 7 for 7 again.

And here is today’s fic.

The Molly Hooper Project

Rosie squirmed in her chair, obviously eager to move on from the cake portion of the birthday party to the presents.

“All right, Sprout. I’ll help Mrs Hudson clean up later. Show Molly what you’ve made her.” John indulgently smiled at his eight-year-old daughter.

She slid off her chair in Mrs Hudson’s dining room and rushed out the door to the stairs to 21b. “Up here, Aunt Molly. Hurry!”

Molly laughed as she climbed the stairs at a much more sedate pace.

By the time the adults followed the little girl into the sitting room and arranged themselves to Rosie’s satisfaction, the young girl already had the telly remote in hand. Someone had rearranged the furniture in anticipation of Rosie’s gift; pushing the chairs that were normally in front of the fireplace to the side and turning the telly so that everyone in the room would be able to see it. Molly sat in the middle of the sofa next to Rosie, as requested, with Mrs Hudson on her other side. John and Greg each took one of the relocated chairs. For some reason, Sherlock chose to stand, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe to the hall.

“Are we ready?” Rosie didn’t wait for an answer before she aimed the remote at the telly.

A carefully hand lettered sign appeared on the screen. It read “The Molly Hooper Project by Rosamund Watson”.

The screen went dark for a second. John appeared, stretched out on the sofa in the Watson sitting room. He had his index finger stuck between the pages of a book. “Is that my phone?”

The image tilted wildly for a moment, ending on a view of Rosie’s favourite sparkly purple sneakers seconds before her little feet turned to run. Everyone heard her squeal of laughter before the picture cut out entirely.

When it came back on, John was there again. Only this time he was sitting up on the sofa, the book set to the side, and he looked as if he were trying to hold back a smile. “- a movie for Molly’s birthday?”

“To show her how much we all love her.”

“That sounds like a very nice project, Sprout; but you still need to ask before you take my phone to make videos next time.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m filming now.” The phone wiggled as if to emphasise her point.

“She’s . . . consistent. Always there when you need a hand. A friend. I have always known I can trust her with the thing I love the most.”

“What’s that, Daddy?”

John smiled and hopped up off the sofa, heading straight for his daughter. “You, of course!”

There was another squeal of laughter.

The image flicked over to a tilted view of Mrs Hudson sitting at her kitchen table. “What is this for, dear?”

The image straightened as Rosie answered from off camera. “Aunt Molly’s birthday.”

“Oh, happy birthday, Molly!” Mrs Hudson waved.

“What is your favourite thing about Aunt Molly? What do you love about her?”

“She’s the sweetest thing. Considerate. Always willing to pop in for a cuppa and a bit of gossip when she’s here.” Mrs Hudson’s nose crinkled as she smiled.

The scene changed again. This time it was Mike Stamford answering Rosie’s question. “She’s a hard worker. The kind you can depend on, no matter what. Even when someone else keeps popping up to distract her. And she’s kind.”

“How-?” Molly started to ask.

Rosie shushed her. “Uncle Sherlock took me.”

“You took my daughter to Barts?” John aimed a glare across the room.

Sherlock waved his hand. “She had a list of people she wanted to talk to, and I had an afternoon free.”

Now Greg was on the screen. Molly recognized his office from the time she’d tagged along with Sherlock on their crime solving day. “Does John know she’s here?” Greg pointed at the camera.

“He left her in my care,” Sherlock replied from off screen, as if that were an actual answer.

Greg wiped his hand over his face and leaned back in his chair behind the desk. “His mistake.”

“Exactly,” was Sherlock’s reply.

“Aunt Molly, Mr Greg. You need to tell me what you love about Aunt Molly.”

“Right. Right.” Greg looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at the camera. “She’s brilliant. I mean, she really knows her stuff. I’ve dealt with a lot of people who . . . do what she does.” His gaze flicked to the right where Sherlock was presumably sitting.

“Pathology,” Sherlock helpfully supplied.

“That means she works at the hospital looking at diseases and dead bodies and helps figure out what killed people.“ Rosie also tried to be helpful.

“Yeah, I’m aware of what she does.” He sent a glare toward Sherlock. “I just didn’t realize the eight-year-old was aware of it too.”

Sherlock snorted. “Don’t blame me. That was Molly.”

Greg shook his head. “Does John know about that?”

“Yes, John knows, unfortunately,” the man in question grumbled to the room at large as the image shifted yet again.

This time it was Molly’s best friend Meena, and they were sitting at a table in a coffee shop. “Aren’t you adorable?” Meena asked as she offered the camerawomen a biscuit.

“Thank you, Miss,” Rosie politely replied as her hand crept into view to take the offered treat.

“What isn’t to love about Molly? She’s smart and goofy, generous and forgiving. Perhaps to a fault.” Meena’s gaze flicked rather pointedly to the left. “Wouldn’t you agree, Sherlock?”

From somewhere to the left of the camera, Sherlock huffed. “Eat your biscuit, Watson. We’ve got to get you back to Baker Street before your father comes looking for you.”

“Seriously, Sherlock, we are going to have to have a talk about-Sherlock?” John looked confused as he called out his friend’s name. Molly looked around with everyone else, and realized that Sherlock had left the room. He must have slipped out during Meena’s interview.

Before anyone could call his name again, the scene on the telly changed once more.

This time it showed very room they were sitting in. Sherlock sat at his laptop, typing away at something as the camera focused on him.

“Okay, Uncle Sherlock.”

“Hmm?” He looked up briefly and offered an absentminded smile for his goddaughter before he returned to his typing. “I thought you were down stairs with Mrs Hudson.”

“Her story came on the telly and there was messy kissing.” Even without seeing Rosie, her disgust was clear. “Your turn. What do you love about Aunt Molly?”

“Everything.” His fingers stilled and he remained utterly motionless for a full five seconds.

Molly held her breath.

On screen Sherlock slowly pushed his chair away from the table and turned his full attention to Rosie. “I have been thinking about how best to answer your question since you told me about your project, and that’s it.” He took a deep breath and stared right into the camera. “I love everything about your Aunt. But I can’t tell her that, not to her face.”

“Why not, Uncle Sherlock?” The poor girl sounded confused.

“I told her once, years ago. But it wasn’t . . . right. And it hurt her. It hurt us both.”

“Why would hurt? Did you lie? Because you’re not supposed to lie.”

Sherlock shook his head. “No, it wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t really the truth, either. I had known, before I said it, that I cared for your Aunt. But until the words came out, I hadn’t understood how much, and what those feelings really meant. And I wasn’t ready for that.” He grimaced. “Then there were so many other things to deal with, important things that couldn’t be ignored, and by the time I finally worked up the nerve to sit down and speak with Molly about it . . . it was too late.”

“I don’t understand? You and Aunt Molly are friends. Did you make up for hurting her?”

He nodded. “Eventually. You know that Molly and I are-”

“Kissing. With tongues,” Rosie finished for him.

“I was going to say dating, and perhaps you should stop watching Mrs Hudson’s stories all together, Watson.” He sighed. “I love her and I know she loves me; but we don’t, we don’t say the words. Those words. I want to. I wish I could just say them without being scared that I’m going to reminder her of how badly I hurt her that first time. I think that might be why she’s scared to say it, too.”

“Don’t be sad,” Rosie tried to console Sherlock. “Oh! You can tell her now. It’s not face to face in the movie. You can say it and then she’ll see it and then she can tell you back and then you don’t have to be scared anymore.” Her words grew faster and higher pitched as she spun out her idea. “And then you can kiss some more!”

“I was just thinking something similar.” He took a deep breath and looked straight at the camera again. “I love you, Molly Hooper.”

The screen went black.

Molly stared at the telly, the sound of those words echoing in her ears. She had braced herself when she realized what he was about to do. He had been right, she had been scared to say it again after that first time.

But hearing him say it didn’t make her hurt. It didn’t overwhelm her with painful reminders. If anything, it made her feel lighter, happier.

Rosie’s little hand reached out to touch hers. “Are you okay, Aunt Molly? You’re crying. Is it bad? Did I do it wrong?”

She hadn’t realized she was crying until she blinked and felt a tear trail down her cheek. Molly scrubbed her free hand across her face and shook her head. “It’s perfect, sweetie. Best present ever. Thank you.” She leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Rosie’s head, then looked around the room at everyone else. Everyone but Sherlock, who was still missing.

“I just need a minute to . . . Excuse me.” Molly pushed herself off the sofa and hurried through the kitchen to the bathroom, intent on splashing some water on her face and composing herself.

The door to Sherlock’s bedroom was open just a crack, and she could see that the light was on inside. She pushed the door open to see him sitting on the side of the bed, his hands holding on to the edge of the mattress so tight that his fingers had turned white.

“Did you make it to the end?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Molly stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. After a moment’s hesitation, she joined him on the bed. “Sherlock, I-“

“No!” He hopped up and stood in front of her. “Wait. Let me say it first. The right way.”

She watched him duck his head and let him have a few seconds to gather his thoughts. The expression on his face when he looked at her again made her heart pound. She’d seen that expression too many times to count over the last few years, and it still took her breath away. “You know, you have to know, how I feel about you. Molly, I love you.”

It felt even better to hear it in person. “I love you, too.”

“Oh, thank God.” He dropped onto the bed beside her, causing her to bounce and laugh. Sherlock waited for her to stop giggling to reach for her hand. “Are they waiting for us out there?”

Molly nodded. “Probably. But they can wait a bit longer.” She leaned her head against his arm and gripped his fingers tighter. “You know I’m not going to be able to stop saying it now, don’t you?”

He squeezed her fingers back. “Neither will I.”

#molly appreciation week #molly hooper appreciation week #day 6: love the way you ...#Sherlolly #everybody loves Molly Hooper

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blankdblank · 6 years

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Not So Cinderella Pt 2

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @fizzy-custard, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @evyiione, @red608

…

A bouncing child woke you as the sun shone through the small cutouts in the ceiling, “Naneth, it’s time to eat.” Giving you a large pout that earned a giggle from you, leading to you climbing out of bed and curling him in your arms peppering the giggling child with kisses as you carried him to the kitchen, setting him on the counter and allowing him a small knife to help you prepare breakfast under your careful watch.

Shortly after you’d both gotten dressed as you forced your growing sting of a crack in your heart from your tarnished reputation, for ages you’d never been tempted, never been touched and by all of your Vanyar standards and custom, you had been used and tossed aside, but from a King, especially in your time in Gondor you’d been no stranger to their corruption and weaknesses, Thorin alone, and now Dain too had been the exception. Treating you respectfully and never claiming any will or control over you, in any form, Thranduil had seemed sweet and sincere enough and a piece of you had hoped it was some minor misunderstanding, relinquishing your control you would leave the decision to him, his next move would prove if he would claim you or if you’d be forced to leave.

For most of the day you’d spent the hours on your knees digging and planting along with minor repairs in the greenhouse that was growing nicely under your care. Having the first large bounty of potatoes available within a few days, after gathering the first ready batch you added it to the baskets and took them to the small makeshift market for the soldiers from the Iron Hills and a basket for the Company as well. Entering the communal kitchen in the Royal Wing you added the food to the pantry as Dwalin collected Estel from your shoulders and carried the giggling boy to the table as you jumped in helping with lunch as the Dwarves filed in. The Princes however started on you right away as you helped carry the food to the table with Kili announcing, “Ah, there’s our Elven Queen.”

You rolled your eyes and Thorin glanced at him curiously as he and Fili laughed before asking, “Alright what am I missing?” Gently curling his hand around your wrist as you tried to pass him, earning a sigh from you before you replied, “I danced with King Thranduil last night.”

Fili chuckled, “Ya, 6 times then vanished.”

Thorin’s smirk fell and he glanced up at you again gently pulling you, leading you to the hallway and resting along the wall giving you a serious expression as he whispered, “Do I need to have a word with this Elf King about his behavior?”

Your eyes met his noticing the protective fire flashing through them, “No, he took me on a tour, we passed the Kingdom on our way to Erebor, though I think he thinks I’m from Rivendell or Lothlorien.”

Thorin, “And he acted properly, all night?”

You nodded, “Though,” Thorin’s eyes twitched slightly, “He seemed to want to act like someone else for the night.”

Thorin, “Really, how’s that?”

“We traded fake names,” a curious smirk formed in response to your flash of a smile, “He pretended to be a servant to the King.”

Thorin chuckled, “Perhaps he needed a break from the weigh of it all,” his hand rising to gently draw a stray leaf from your long braid drooped over your shoulder and flicking it away, “Besides, he might have been worried that you wouldn’t speak to him freely so he wouldn’t be able to, get an understanding of you without his crown being in the way.”

“Sounds about right.”

He nodded laying his hand gently on your shoulder with a small smile, “Let me know if he does anything forward, King or not I won’t stand for him harming you.” His head tilting as he tried to understand your small expressions flashing across your face, ��Do you care for him?”

“I,” your eyes dropped to the floor and he placed his hands on your upper arms gently causing you to meet his eyes again as he replied, “If you do there’s a long list of terms he’ll have to meet before he can court you. You’re of high Dwarven rank now, he’ll have to earn you.”

You sighed again, “What exactly does Dwarven courting say about contact before courting is announced.”

His eyebrows rose and he whispered, “Contact?”

You scooted closer after kicking the door shut, spotting the Princes attempting to sneak up to spy on you both, the door’s slam left you in the darkened hall with only a small beam of light reflected on mirrors from a cutout in the ceiling to light the hall giving him a glimpse of your shadowy figure leaning in to whisper, “I, kissed him.” A snort came in response soon to be coughed away as Thorin regained his composure as he gripped your arm, stopping you and kicking the door shut again after you’d turned to leave mumbling, “Now you’re laughing at me.”

He gently turned you pressing you against the wall holding you in place with his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not laughing, it was a, well not a surprise, you’re breath taking and he’d be mad not to choose you. As long as he behaves, just a bit surprised that you’d start something with him so soon. He must have made quite an impression as a servant.”

You giggled rubbing your face making him smile larger, “He was so terrible at it, I knew him right away.”

Thorin chuckled again, “He’s got a bit too rigid to hide I suppose.”

“And he’s nearly a foot taller than all the others there.”

Thorin nodded pressing his forehead to yours, “Just keep us up to date on everything,” stepping back to release you and reopen the door, then leaning in to whisper, “So we can know when to plan the wedding gifts.” Winking at you as you rolled your eyes again.

As lunch ended you accepted Thorin’s request for you taking a trip to Dale to meet with Bard and a small group of his men inspecting the shape of the city for possible housing through the upcoming winter, the walk down went rather quickly with you giggling from Estel seated behind your head. Your arms curled up behind his back holding him in place as you bounced and hopped making him giggle all the way there before allowing him to join the small group of children from Laketown as Fili kept and eye on him while speaking with Sigrid allowing you to join the men for the inspection.

Your hands brushing against the thick vest and long shirt hanging to your knees over your thick pants and tall boots as your braid swung behind you through your partially swaying steps as you wandered through your thoughts, each breeze reminding you of the thin layer of dried sweat and dirt still coating you in various spots as you rejoined the children. A giggle escaped you when you spotted Estel trying to do a cartwheel, quickly joining him you gripped his middle holding him steady as he flung his legs around before he giggled again at your releasing him before pouting through a request for you to show the group how good yours were.

You stood drawing in a large breath stepping a few steps away spotting the group of Elves drawing closer to Bard and his group including the King and Prince, each of them taking a chance to turn and inspect the laughing group of children while eyeing the strange cart wheeling one in the middle leading them through the lesson.

Doing all you could to keep your heart from pounding you kept your back to the King though your tears filled your eyes just the same, drawing the Elven child the Elves had locked onto closer to you and curling in your arms hoping to bring your smile back again, his next giggle bringing back their smile as he said, “Naneth, dance with me!” To which you promptly curled him in your right arm and spun him a few steps away from the group humming as you led him through the dance and he snuggled closer to your chest listening to your heart beating.

Your skin was all but burning as the King eyed your movements ignoring the men speaking to him entirely trying his best to get a glimpse of the eye color from underneath your closed eyelids while your braid slid free from the small ribbon holding the end in place breaking free covering you completely from his view by the dizzying curls flailing around you as the children mimicked your steps. The elves remained for a short while after only to eventually leave but not until after spotting you pressing another kiss to Estel’s head as you gently brushed your thumb over his small pointed ear driving a huge spike of jealousy from each of them at your precious child.

A smile was locked on Thranduil’s face with his forehead resting against yours, his hand drawing the blanket higher across your back and hand that had curled around a small portion of his hair with your index finger stroking along his jaw in your sleep. Each moment leaving a greater feeling of bliss at your body curled across his chest while his mind replayed the few hours before with both of you allowing a small slip of your passions to break free, his forehead nuzzling closer to yours as his fingers gently stroked against your skin.

My Wife, My Dazzling Queen, his fingers aching to remove the mask that had been secured with a ribbon woven through your hair but not wishing to cause you any pain in its removal, relenting to your one major secret between you, he couldn’t imagine what a poor servant he’d made himself out to be but you, whatever your station he knew you could be no less than a Queen with how you held yourself.

And now that he’d held you in his arms past nightfall by Silvan customs secured your marriage leaving him to hope that your Son would accept and grow to care for him as soon as you’d both been moved into your new home. Followed by thought of what he could look like knowing he was adopted he might not look very much like you at all leading to an ache for a brood of children each claiming you features and eyes before his fingers slid over your hair grabbing a small section of it after wetting his thumb on his tongue and rubbing the blue powder from it revealing the deep Raven hue.

Releasing your hair he curled his arm around your back again with a soft chuckle as you curled closer to him before his eyes opened at the sound of a faint knock and the door opening, his head raised carefully not to wake you as his eyes met the nervous servant with her eyes on the floor quickly informing him of an urgent matter needing his attention. With a sigh he carefully slid you off of his chest stroking your cheek after removing your hand from his hair and whispering, “Please sleep until I get back, we can talk about it all over breakfast.” His lips gently pressing to your forehead then your lips again taking another moment to take in your sleeping face before drawing your blanket higher and following the servant as he removed his mask leaving it in the room before he left, securing the door behind him and glancing at the guard nearby, “Ensure the Queen is not disturbed.” The Guard bowed his head deeply in reply before Thranduil turned to go handle this nonsense with a deepening glare at being all but ripped from your arms, at least in is mind.

The tip of his ear twitched with each tick on the clock along the wall burning to get back to you as he knew the sun would be rising soon, his feet carrying him as fast as he could manage easing his ache as the sight of the guest room in the Royal Wing he’d chosen came into view, pausing to draw in and release a steady breath with his hand resting on the doorknob readying himself for his bride. His heart plummeting however at the empty sunlit bed with nothing but a single feather and the discarded blanket, his feet carrying him inside to inspect the bathroom and closet before the balcony as his hand rubbed his temples while his breathing quickened drawing the Guard near the door inside with a timid stance as the King asked loudly, “Were is the Queen?”

His stern eyes meeting the Guard whose mouth dropped open for a moment, “I did not see her leave My King, it must have been when we switched shifts, couldn’t have been more than a few moments.”

His eyes shut again as he fought back a growl returning to rubbing his temples, Alright, alright, she has a Son, must have had to return for him. Now I just have to find her. His eyes opening as he dropped his hand back to his side, “I want a list on each of my Elven guests staying in the Kingdom from Rivendell and Lothlorien, complete with descriptions, hair and eye color included.” Walking past the Guard collecting his mask before heading to his room fighting the trembling of his hands he’d clenched into fists.

Nearly jerking himself free from his layers of clothes that seemed to be burning his skin at your absence. His body lowered into his bath as he glanced at his reflection in the small mirror he’d set at the edge making sure to scrub each inch of the paint and powder from himself and finally stepping out of his bath when it was all gone, curling a towel around his waist and turning as Legolas burst through the door, “You’re married?!”

A smirk ran across his face as he grabbed another towel and started to dry his hair, “Yes.”

Legolas closed the door and headed over sitting on the bench near his Father, “What’s she like? It is the Woman you were dancing with correct?”

Thranduil nodded and to his surprise Legolas smiled, “She’s incredible, I’ve never met anyone like her before.”

Legolas chuckled, “So where is she?”

His concern spiked at his Father’s dimming smile, “I believe she went to be with her Son, he’s ten.”

Legolas’ smile came back and he moved closer grabbing the comb off of the table before him to ease through his Father’s hair, “I’m going to have a Brother?”

Thranduil chuckled again, “Yes, there’s only one problem.”

“Mhmm, what’s that.”

“I have no idea what her name is.”

Legolas’ hands froze and his smile dropped as he moved around to his Father’s front, “What?!”

The rest of his day going increasingly irritating as the reports came back without a single purple eyed Elleth among them and with the few scattered children none of them were young enough to be your Son, leaving him at a loss until Legolas suggested that you could be among the group of Elves that had lived in Laketown who had come from various Kingdoms and were unwilling to face the forest path.

Their trip went quickly leading to spotting only one Elf child who they were told didn’t belong to any Elleth in Laketown, claimed only by a strange dancing woman who seemed to be caked in dirt from her head to her toes including a thick layer through her odd orange hued hair that flailed around her. His eyes locked on the small child wishing that it could have been your Son, that the strange woman could have been you so he could rush over to you publicly claiming you as his along with your Son so you’d never be without him again. Where could she be?

…

Through the next day you’d kept yourself busy in the greenhouse caking yourself with another thick layer of dirt and mud before making a stop in the forges to assist Bofur in the repairs on one of the massive boilers before finally being able to head upstairs and scrub again but only after passing the curious tall redheaded Tauriel who eyed you closely wondering what sort of creature could be under all those layers of grime.

You started eating your meal in the oddly empty dining room in the Royal Wing you focused on Estel and convincing him that the green bean population needed controlling, so we all had to do our parts, only winning by adding more gravy to them along with more mashed potatoes to dip them in. Your attention on him breaking as you heard the large crowd of Dwarves enter the room, eyeing it carefully before heading over to you when they spotted you, Thorin hobbled over with the aid of his cane claiming the seat at your side with a large smile and chuckles attempting to burst free from him, “Ahem, Jaqi, was wondering if you’d have missed a few details from the Celebration the other night?”

You glanced over at him curiously, “Like what?”

Kili and Fili slammed their palms on the table, “Like You’re Married?!”

Your mouth dropped open, “I’m what?!” Their faces twisted in confusion and Thorin leaned in closer curling his arm around your shoulders seeing you were truly baffled by what they’d said.

Thorin, “What exactly happened?”

“Just what I told you.”

Kili, “Tauriel mentioned something about you sleeping wi-“ his eyes wandering over to Estel.

“Yes, with, as in beside, same way we did for nearly a year. I fell asleep..”

Kili’s eyes narrowed as Fili said, “Is that normal for Elven cultures?”

You shrugged, “He’s Silvan, I’m Vanyar, they’re vastly different apparently. I mostly spent time in Gondor and the Shire, by that logic I’ve been married to Bilbo for what, 10 years?” Glancing at Bilbo who nodded in response while filling Thorin’s plate as he chewed on the roll in his mouth.

Thorin glanced at the plate set before him with a soft “Thank you” to Bilbo then turned back to you as Bilbo served himself, “So this is a cultural thing. Hmm. Well is it that bad that he’s claimed you?”

Your hands dropped from rubbing your temples, “He barely knows me. I spent the past two days caked in dirt, how’s he going to handle that?”

The Dwarves all chuckled as you pushed the plate back to Estel as he tried to slide it away from himself in the middle of the conversation as Thorin continued, “Well you’re at least going to have to go to the next celebration to speak with him, apparently he’s even more sunken than normal.”

Kili nodded, “Tauriel said he’s looked everywhere for you, took up a list of all his guests for an Elf with purple eyes.”

Dwalin, “Why didn’t you just tell her to look here?”

Kili shot him a quick sarcastic glare, “Because,” turning his head back to you, “We had to make sure it was true first, is she, for example trashed his castle or something and they’re laying a trap, we couldn’t very well go and turn her in now could we?” glancing at the nodding Dwarves while crossing his arms.

Fili’s eyes narrowed next, “But he saw her, yesterday at Dale, you were with Estel.” Locking his eyes with yours.

“Again, caked in dirt, we never traded names, though he’s hard to mistake, so all he’s got is my eye color I suppose.”

Thorin rubbed his face as Dwalin said, “Talk it through seems the best deal then, besides, if you are the Queen and it’s etched in Iron then we’ve got a solid footing for any trade deals.”

You rubbed your face, “Oh that’s comforting.”

Thorin chuckled, “We’re not trading you for anything, if you refuse his proposal we’ll get you out of it.” His arm curled around your shoulders, “You’re family now, you and the little one, no one hurts our family.”

“I know.”

Through the next day preparations were made and Kili had made sure to send a note to Tauriel that the Mystery Queen had been spotted in Dale the day before and would be there again the next night, to collect her lost cloak at least, a note that was responded to with a very lengthy inquiry on everything that he knew about her, to which he vaguely responded to as being between the Elf King and New apparent Queen.

King Thranduil had eagerly read and reread the correspondence on both sides with no calming to his nerves wondering how he could have missed you, forcing himself through the day once again finishing the plans for the celebration the next night before returning to his room where he went to his desk once again collecting the single feather you’d left behind with a sorrowful gaze.

Doing everything he could to keep the tears struggling to fill his eyes at how it could have been this complicated or painful, he’d never dreamt of falling for anyone, his first marriage being arranged at his refusal to court anyone and now he’d managed to fumble his way into yet another marriage that seemed to be going just as smoothly as the last, with him absolutely baffled by the woman he’d been bonded to. It’ll be alright, everything will, will be, alright, hopefully. Standing with the feather still between his fingers, going to his bed, sitting on the end of it and laying back with a sigh twirling the feather above his chest, closing his eyes and remembering you, wishing you were there curled across his chest again with your fingers in his hair.

The next morning he’d once again finalized the plans for that night before cementing the fact that should he need it, he would be granted time off to spend with you, with the celebration growing closer he returned to his room to prepare, his hair this time being turned into a pale blue braid with the powder as he pulled on a matching robe with silver pants and boots before adding a matching mask with a small smile after a long exhale to calm his nerves. Turning to face the door he entered the hall and exited his room smiling at Legolas who was already waiting for him in a similar outfit before they headed down to the same outdoor ballroom scanning over the massive sea of guests for any sign of you.

When it was time for the celebration your hands were shaking so bad you had to stand at your kitchen table with your hands flat on it, taking several deep breaths with your eyes slammed shut, mentally struggling with the growing urge to vomit and hide in the toy chest in Estel’s room for the rest of eternity, following that thought until you couldn’t help but laugh at your mind reasoning the happy life you both could have in that giant wooden chest.

Your mental rambling seemed to do the trick and you managed your way into the hall joining the Princes who’d helped you into a fur lined robe that Thorin had picked for you from the massive abandoned collection in the Royal Wing. Your hands ran lovingly over the short gray fur opposite the silvery velvet fabric that would coat your tan dress with pale blue designs resembling petals with a few stripes of dangling pale blue thread with a large matching bow just under your bust, mentally you ran through the dances again tonight hoping there was nothing to difficult to handle with the corset under your dress that was helping to hold it in place. - Dress -

Once again you were helped with covering your braided bun with hair coated to a pale blue shade with a matching mask as Kili curled his arm around yours once again smirking as he led you to the carriages outside. Driven by an Elf who’s face lit up as he caught a flash of your eyes, leading you straight up to the front gate and giving an awkward head nod towards you causing the Guard’s faces outside to go blank before they mentally sent word inside to the King who joined his Son near the entrance to the outdoor ballroom.

Following the Princes you spotted Tauriel narrowing her eyes at your hands curled around Kili’s arm before you released it and he helped you from your cloak and added it to theirs before his hand gently brushed a powder blue curl behind your ear before shooting you a wink and heading over to Tauriel who’s mouth dropped open as you turned to offer her a small smile across the crowded room, allowing her to get a glimpse of your eyes, she turned and grabbed Kili’s arm, “How do you know her?”

Kili chuckled, “She’s family.”

They headed inside and you followed after accepting Bain’s free arm as he escorted his date on the other with a large smile on his face as you followed Fili and Sigrid, after entering the first doorway you spotted the King whose eyes locked on you with a growing smile that seemed to bring your urges back nearly driving you to punch the tall impossibly attractive man in the ribs for how he’s acted even in the large crowd. Two steps later he’d stopped before you leaning in closely to whisper, “Might I have a moment?”

Your eyes wandered to his Son offering you a large smile then back to him as you drew in a quick breath and nodded through your turn while his hand gently slid across the center of your back while he led you through the castle back up to the Royal Wing again, the entire time his arm slowly slid tighter around you as he inched closer, both of you slightly unsure of what to say leaving the entire trip silent. His hand landed on the handle to his room and he paused offering you another smile, “I, should, you look incredible, again.”

His smile grew as yours did, “Thank you.” The handle dipped and he opened the door for you allowing you in first and following after, closing the door and returning his hand to your back showing you through to his private kitchen with a meal set up for the two of you surrounded by flowers and candles with added crystals scattered through the room to reflect the light. He paused again at your side when your feet stopped a few feet from the table slightly in awe of what he’d done for you, his eyes scanned over your face as he gently slid his hand around yours, “How’s your Son?”

A curious smile forming on his face as you turned to face him, “He’s good.”

“About,” he quickly wet his lips while shifting on his feet, “I would like to humbly beg yoru forgiveness, I got called away on something they had described as urgent business, leading to my return, possibly several hours after you’d left. And I never, never intended on leaving you, just it, I shouldn’t have left…”

Your eyes locked onto his nearly getting lost in his slightly pleading gaze, “I had to get back..”

“To your Son, yes, I assumed that. The thing is, I searched for you, I sent out for an inventory of all my guests and none of them had a description matching yours, not to mention the three children brought for the celebration came nowhere close to your Son’s age.”

You shifted slightly unsure of what he was leading up to, “For a servant to the King you seem to have a great deal of weight to be able to order such inquiries.”

He shifted while he swallowed, “I am..” his eyes dropped to the floor as he wet his lips again.

“The King,” His eyes darted back up to yours, “Do not mistake me for a fool Orophereon. You made it plain you wished for me to speak to you honestly and I have, but what could you possibly want from me after this?”

He stepped closer to you, “I want you, only you, and your Son of course too, but nothing past that.”

You stepped back as he tried to step closer, his face dropping as he spotted the tears filling your eyes, “And yet when you walked past me the day after the celebration, like I was nothing.”

Tears filled his eyes, unsure of how, but he had missed you, walked right past you and hurt you, his voice left him in an uncommonly weak tone, “I had no intention of harming you, or ignoring you. Perhaps I rushed things far too early.” Slowly inching closer, “But I don’t regret a single moment.” His eyes searching yours for any glimmer of hope that this could be repaired.

“And what, what am I meant to do now Yo-.”

His hand rose stroking your cheek gently, softly pleading, “Taule. You’re not very familiar with Silvan customs are you?”

“No I’m Vanyar. I’ve spent little time with your Kin. Most of my time was spent in Gondor.”

“You said you-.”

“Spent time, in Rivendell, yes, after my Son was born until I moved to the Shire.”

“Why would you move to the Shire?”

“it’s complicated, but I had a friend there that offered me a room, along with there being countless children for my Son to play with. I had to keep him safe.”

“So you came from the Shire?”

“Yes.”

“Where have you been staying?” His hand dropped from your cheek to your side as he inched closer again.

“Why is this so important to you?”

His hands curling around your waist, “You spent the night in my arms, we’ve been intimate, by Silvan customs we’re wed. Is that not true for the Vanyar?”

His eyes flooded with tears at the crack in your voice, “I was alone when I woke, it means, I’m tarnished, then your shunning..”

His hands gripped your waist tighter and he moved closer breathing heavily with a heavily pleading tone, “I did not shun you intentionally, I did not see you. You are impossibly far from tarnished.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours closing his eyes, “I would never shun you. I love you.”

A quiet curt laugh left you drawing his head back, his eyes opening to see a matching set of tears rolling down your cheeks, “You don’t know me.”

His hands quickly moving to wipe your tears away, “Then tell me what I don’t know about you, help me learn you.”

“If you wish to learn me, then find me. Out of my mask, outside of your parties. If you can find me, then I’ll know you’re telling me the truth about your intentions.”

He drew in a slow breath through a slow nod, “My intentions are pure, you’re My Wife, My Queen, but if this is what you need, then I will find you. I only ask two things.” His body moved closer to yours as his eyes scanned over your face while his thumb brushed away another tear from your cheek as you swallowed, “Stay with me, as long as you can, until morning, if possible, until you have to claim your Son, tonight and again after the next celebration, spend these two nights by my side, as My Queen.”

His fingers gently brushing your falling bangs back behind your ear, “And the second?”

His hands dropped to yours pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles before curling your hands around his neck, his fingers slowly trailing down your arms as he inched closer again, “Don’t hide from me, as I search, for our nights together, you may keep your mask, your new name, even the true shade of your hair. But please, if you truly, truly wish for me to find you, do not hide. Might I also make a third request?”

You swallowed, “What might that be?”

“A time limit, one month to find you. I would wish for a week, but there is far too much necessary for me to remain here directly after the celebrations. One month and if I have not found you, then please come back here to me, I will make sure you will not be turned away. Come back to me, and if you choose to leave me I will understand. Do you accept my requests?”

Another tear rolled down your cheek that his hand quickly wiped away, “I accept.”

A smile formed on his face as a tear slid down his cheek which your fingers gently wiped away, his eyes shit while his head leaned into your palm for a few moments before opening his eyes again, “Hungry?” You nod and a half hearted chuckle escaped him, “Good.”

Your fingers curled around his neck as he moved to step back pausing his steps as you moved closer, his head lowering as you pulled him down to you resting your forehead against his for a moment as you whispered a slightly broken plea, “Please find me.”

His eyes opened as your head pulled back only to close again as he melted into the kiss you started, humming as your hand wove through his hair triggering him to lower as his arm curled around your back before lifting you tightly against him through your deepening kiss. He stumbled back blindly searching for the chair behind him, dropping heavily into it as he curled you in his lap holding you firmly through the heated kiss.

Your night ended with him pinning you to the wall behind a pillar in a shadowy corner on the way back to the celebration for another brief steamy kiss before he escorted you to claim your cloaks and to return to your home, giving you another kiss, though this one far more chaste, along your cheek before bowing to you and turning to return to his room so he couldn’t see who you left with.

Though his helping you into your cloak did give him some clue as it bore a Dwarvish rune across the pendant securing it in place along with the mumbled from Tauriel about Kili being unwilling to share anything about you at all only driving Legolas’ smile wider as he went to join his smiling Father to learn more about what happened.

Legolas, “So it’s Dale or Erebor then?”

Thranduil nodded, “Most likely.”

Legolas, “Well Dale is easy enough, but how are we going to get into Erebor, even Tauriel isn’t allowed through unless Kili and Dwalin are there to guard her.”

Thranduil sighed, “I’ll have to write to Thorin, see if we can manage some sort of trade agreement.”

Legolas nodded, “Can’t be to many Elves roaming around the Mountain, especially in Tauriel hasn’t even spotted her yet.” Thranduil groaned and dropped backwards onto his bed rubbing his face after laying his mask on the bed beside him while Legolas walked over dropping beside him using his Father’s outstretched arm as a pillow sighing himself before asking, “So what has she told you about my new Brother?” Making Thranduil chuckle before he gave him the same vague list he’d been given.

Your hands raised to remove your bun from your hair with the help of Bilbo as the group all gathered around peppering you with questions eventually ending with an agreement not to spill anything about you, something that was spread through the Dwarven population by daybreak, the challenge you had issued had somehow lucked into being one of the oldest Dwarven traditions for courtship where the issuer would live normally and it would be the suitors job to find them, without any help from others. A tradition meant to test if you were truly meant to be together, a tradition to weed out the undesirable offers or if someone had yet to prove their true loyalty or connections to you, mainly for quick courtships.

Pt 3

#Thranduil x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotredit

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alluring-words-blog · 4 years

Text

The Goblin and the Mage

The Goblin and the Mage: Chapter One

Originally Posted To: https://www.booksie.com/posting/a.-l.-stolz/the-goblin-and-the-mage-361504

On Date: 07/03/2013

Author Notes: Someday I will finish this story! \o/

-Ashley Stolz -.^V

Reason for posting to Tumblr: Easier Reading.

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

The mage awakened with the morning sun blaring into his face. Squinting his eyes, Sheridan raised an arm to shadow his face as he rolled onto the opposite side.

As he began to close his eyes again he saw the green creature sitting with her back to him. It looked like she was fiddling with something. Sheridan’s first thought pushed him rashly to his feet.

He stumbled to the goblin looking over her boney shoulders.

In one hand Mutap held his dagger. A black handled dirk with silver etchings upon the surface. In the goblins other lean hand she held a large stick.

She was carving away at it with his ritualistic blade.

Sheridan shook his head, kneeling on the ground beside her. “What are you doing?”

The female goblin peered up at the mage with big yellow eyes. “Bow.”

The mage nodded slightly. “I see.” He pulled his pack to him and rummaged through it. “I don’t mind you using my things, but I would appreciate it if you asked me first.”

The goblin nodded, obviously lost in her work. “You sleep. Mutap tried to wake mage, but mage no move.”

Sheridan grinned at Mutap’s reply as he withdrew a leather pouch.

Inside were various leather strings and other odds and ends he usually found useful while travelling. The mage laid out one leather string and put the rest away inside of the pack. With a swift wave of his right hand, the string changed into a material he thought the goblin would find more beneficial as a bow string. He handed it to her and sat to watch her carve away.

“Did Gregory teach you this, as well?” Sheridan inquired.

Mutap shook her red head. “No.”

Hmm, a trait naturally passed on by the goblins. Taught or not, I suppose natural instincts are deep in the blood line. Bred in to the little creatures. She feels she needs to protect herself, and this is what she comes up with. Survival. The mage thought to himself.

“Are you a good shot?”

Mutap merely nodded.

Taking that as his sign to leave his friend alone, Sheridan rose to his feet and began cleaning up the camp area. Sheridan turned to the fire to put it out, and saw on a make-shift spit that was overturned and, a half eaten deer. He furrowed a brow curiously at the charred critter and looked back to Mutap.

“Mu… did you-”

“Tastey. You eat.” She mumbled.

The deer hadn’t even been skinned.

It looked as if it had been impaled and tossed onto the fire. Poor thing… Portions of the deer had been cut away from the body. Upon closer examination, Sheridan saw teeth marks on the neck and legs.

Bless the gods… I will have to properly teach this creature how to hunt.

“Mu. How do you obtain food for consumption?” He asked as he proceeded to put out the campfire with a gentle gust of air.

“Sneaky.”

“And?” Sheridan cast an inquiring glance at the goblin as he fastened his pack and walked toward his horse which rested contently.

“Munch, munch!” Mutap snapped as if he were bothering her.

She was pulling the string he had given her over the edges and flicking it with her long fingers. Finally, The goblin grinned securing the bow over one shoulder. She handed the dirk to Sheridan and bowed to him.

“Well… at least you have some manners.” The mage smiled as he fought the urge to pat her on the head. “But when you thank me… please do not bow. It makes me feel… old. Just say, thank you.”

The goblin stared at the mage.

“Go on. Say it.” He placed a hand on his hip as he watched her.

“Th- thank… you.” Mutap mumbled.

The mage was so thrilled to hear the quiet words come so perfectly from her, that he outstretched his hand toward her and proceeded to gently pat the top of her red head.

The green creature grimaced slightly, baring dangerously jagged teeth at the mage.

“I… am not your pet.” Her little fingers tightened into fists and her large yellow eyes narrowed.

Immediately, the mage withdrew his hand. “So sorry! It is difficult to see you as a… friend.”

The goblin crossed her arms, staring indifferently at Sheridan.

The mage rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Well, have you decided to travel with me?”

Mutap pointed accusingly at the mage, her brow lowered angrily. “You no tap gobby!”

Out of quick reflex Sheridan threw his hands in the air. “I promise! I won’t pat you ever again. I wish to keep my fingers attached in their appropriate locations.”

The goblin grunted. “Fine. I go.”

“Excellent.” Sheridan offered his hand to the little creature.

She grasped it firmly and the mage easily picked her up and set the little green creature on the horse.

After she was settled, Sheridan hopped in front of her. He led the horse to the road and once again continued his journey.

For the most part the little goblin cuddled to the mages back and slept. When Mutap was awake, Sheridan taught her to speak properly and not in the broken sentences that she did.

Mutap learned quickly, but still reverted to speaking incorrectly. As they approached a town Sheridan led his mount off the main path and into the woods.

“Mutap. I need you to stay here. Do not go anywhere for any reason. Avoid contact with humans. I will return shortly with supplies.” The mage told his green companion as he tied the horse to a tree.

“Get Mutap cloak?”

“Can I?” Continuing to secure the horse.

Mutap sighed and tilted her head backwards. “Can Sheridan get Mutap a cloak?”

“What do you need a cloak for?”

“So Mutap can see town!” She snapped.

“Oh.” Sheridan thought for a moment. “Okay. Stay here and out of sight. If you’re good, I’ll give you a cloak and take you into town.”

That creepy, yet menacing, smile flooded over her face again.

“Why do I feel as though I am harboring a fugitive?” The mage eyed her suspiciously before turning away. “Stay!” Sheridan called behind him as he disappeared through the trees.

As the mage stepped into civilization, a sense of comfort fell over him. The town was bustling with people. The air was thick but smelled of freshly cooked meat, bread, and burning wood. There were stands set up along the street of crafts and wares. One was a wood worker; another a blacksmith; there was even a tailor.

Sheridan quickly found himself facing a large building with the name painted in red across the top of the wooden double doors; Redwind Tavern. As his gaze shifted to his left, Sheridan’s green eyes lingered on the clothes merchant stall.

Perfect.

He approached the woman standing in front of the stand. A young plain woman who smiled at him as he walked up. She examined his plain white shirt and tan pants.

“Would ye like some color, sir?”

“I’m sorry?” Sheridan asked, confused.

“Fer yer attire, sir. Would ye like a dyed shirt?” She pulled up a blue shirt. It was finely tailored with a pocket sewn on the front breast, short sleeves and beads for buttons.

“That is a top quality shirt. Very rich. I marvel at the work put into this piece. Did you make it yourself?”

“I did.” The woman smiled sweetly.

“I was actually looking for a child’s robe. With a hood.” He motioned with his hands. “Oh, and a new attire for her. The clothes she has are… dreadful. Riddled with holes.”

“That’s so sweet, sir. Taking care of a child off the streets like that. How tall is she?”

Sheridan smiled as he thought. “About three feet.”

“Size?”

“Very thin. Perhaps you have something that will hold up to… life in the alley’s?”

“Of course, sir!” The woman exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh, and something that will compliment the color green.”

Right away the woman pulled out a little blue dress. It was charming, but he couldn’t imagine a goblin in a dress. He shook his head and asked for a tunic and trousers instead.

“Thank you, my lady. I couldn’t thank you enough.” Sheridan bowed to the lady.

She grinned, “Oh, think nothin’ of it. A nice man like ye, helpin’ an alley brat. I’ll give ye a discount.”

Sheridan waved a hand in disapproval. “No, no. Please, just take my coin. I insist.” He set a small coin pouch on the counter in front of the lady and turned on his heel. “It was a pleasure, my lady.” He smiled as he disappeared into a crowd before the merchant could respond.

Sheridan returned to Mutap with a delectable blue tunic and black pants, with a black leather belt and a dark silken blue robe to hide beneath.

The mage had also bought her a bronze hair clip, along his way. As well as a new sleeping pack for the goblin and arrows for her newly crafted bow.

Wasting not a moment, she pulled the front portion of her hair back and clipped it back with the new accessory.

“Very nice. Now you look like a civilized goblin.” Sheridan praised his new companion.

Mutap pulled the hood over her face, hung her bow over one shoulder and followed the mage into town along with the horse.

Their first stop was the stables.

Sheridan paid a lad to feed and clean his horse while he was in town. As they were walking out of the stables, the mage looked to his right and saw a building with glittering objects inside.

Mutap was drooling and on her way before he even noticed.

Sheridan Tomire shook his head in disapproval and pointed at her.

The disguised goblin stopped dead in her tracks.

He walked to Mutap and kneeled in front of her. “We haven’t learned about shiny objects yet, have we, Mutap?”

She growled fiercely at him. “Evil mage! Undo magic trick. Let Mutap go!”

“I am afraid that you will have to come with me. I can’t have you roaming around town by yourself. I am responsible for your well being, now.”

Sheridan twirled his index finger in a circular motion and a barely visible string tied around her neck.

The mage flicked his index finger forward, and Mutap groaned as she was pulled behind him.

The disguised creature tugged at the magical string around her neck, trying to obtain freedom. A few of the people they passed cast odd looks at the cloaked goblin, as Mutap desperately tugged at the invisible string around her neck.

“Stop that!” Sheridan hissed.

Sheridan paused at another shop, peering in through the window.

He felt a hard tug on his end of the magical string and looked at Mutap. She had spotted something that had completely put her in a daze.

Sheridan’s green eyes followed those large yellow orbs to an accessory shop.

Hmm… I’ll have to come up with something to make reflective, glossy, or glittery things unappealing to her.

“What would you do with all of those anyway?” Sheridan inquired of the goblin.

“Munch, munch!” Long strings of saliva dripped from the corners of the goblins unnaturally wide mouth.

Sheridan gave his green friend a worried look. “No.” He told her firmly.

I am aiding a criminal… The mage rolled his eyes, wondering what he had gotten himself into. The gods only know how many objects she has ingested. Is that considered… thievery? Eating shiny objects?

Sheridan tugged on the magical string and… finally Mutap followed, weeping a little as she slouched forward in a dejected manner.

Again, Sheridan stood face to face with the Redwind Tavern. With a little self-convincing that he would only drink a little, the mage started forward and pulled the heavy door open.

Usually, drunken people bothered Sheridan. Not with their joshing or pointing, but with their sloppy manners and disgusting habits. Their slurping and banging.

Right away, Sheridan spotted a clean and empty corner to sit in. He tugged his companion along and settled himself at the round wooden table.

The tavern was quite busy and noisy, but no one looked in his direction.

Realizing that he was wearing commoners clothing, the mage suddenly felt somewhat comfortable. Sheridan allowed himself to relax, and he sank into the wooden chair beneath him.

The goblin sat beside the mage with quite the grumpy expression played across her features. It even seemed as though her long ears were drooping beneath that hood.

Sheridan grinned at her and dissipated the magical string around her neck.

But Mutap, instead of seeming glad, looked nervously around at all of the people. “I don’t like it here.”

“Why? You won’t start anything with these people, will you?” Sheridan asked.

Mutap shook her head. “They start with Mutap.”

“Well, if you’re stealing from them or eating their valuables then I can’t blame them.” The mage teased.

Mutap huddled near the table, leaning her chin on the surface. “Will you find mages that killed master?”

“Is that why you’ve decided to come with me?” Sheridan frowned.

Mutap looked sadly to the mage. “What order?”

Sheridan cocked a brow at the creature. “What?”

“What order is Sheridan from?”

“Oh…” Resting his elbows on the surface of the wooden table. “I can’t tell you.”

Mutap frowned further.

“How do you know about mage orders? Do you know something about the mages that killed Gregory?”

“Black hands.”

At first, Sheridan didn’t think he had heard Mutap correctly, but upon repeating the words in his mind, his eyes widened fearfully as he stared at the goblin.

The Black Grasp. A group known solely for its unearthly obsession with the dark magic’s. Related spells dealt heavily with necromancy.

The group wore black robes with purple sashes. Their palms were tattooed completely in black ink. They were usually ghastly pale.

Unfortunately, Sheridan Tomire had had more than a few encounters with the demented gang. They had already marked him.

“Sheridan.” Mutap said as she raised her head from the table and cast a worried look to the mage.

“Sshh!” Sheridan hissed angrily, holding his hand up for the goblin to be silent.

The mage leaned over the table massaging his temple with his fingers.

I just had to have a conscience when I found out this goblin could understand me, didn’t I? Damn my good will! He slammed a fist onto the table. Mutap jumped, staring timidly at Sheridan.

Abruptly, the mage stood pushing the chair out of his way. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sheridan shoved past a brawl as he headed for the door.

A man howled from behind.

Wheeling around on his heels to find the source, Sheridan saw Mutap sitting on the floor with her hood hanging loosely around her neck. Men were crowding around her, examining her with odd expressions.

“A goblin!” A man shouted, grabbing the attention of the others in the tavern.

Sheridan cursed at his luck.

Lowering his head as Mutap sought to crawl out of sight, the mage closed his eyes and outstretched his arms.

Under his breath Sheridan began to chant the words to his chosen spell. A spell he had not quite mastered yet… seeing as how he usually didn’t have a purpose for it.

Sheridan’s green eyes sprung open and he yelled out, unleashing the spell into the crowd.

Immediately, the ones who sought to harm the goblin were thrust back into the air falling hard where ever they were thrown. Into chairs, other people and on top of tables.

Sheridan sprinted to his companion and lifted her tiny form in his arms. The mage hoped that no one had noticed he was the one who had cast the spell.

Wasting no time, the mage bounded for the door as fast as he could, hurling the door open and slamming it behind him.

Sheridan swirled toward the double doors and flicked his wrist at them. Sheridan could hear the people shouting and beating against the doors in an attempt to get them open.

Quickly taking in his breath, Sheridan set the goblin on the ground and ran to the stables to retrieve his mount.

Before the men could get the door open, Sheridan and Mutap were already out of town, even if just barely.

The goblin was quiet as the mage drove the horse hard to leave the town behind. Mutap’s thin fingers clenched his white shirt tightly.

Finally, Sheridan felt they were at a safe distance and slowed the horse to a steady jog. Glancing back to his companion, Sheridan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with Mutap.

Running fingers through his sweaty black hair Sheridan gave in to the moment.

“It is not your fault.” As soothingly as possible. “The Black Grasp. That doesn’t sit well with me, my friend. Not at all…”

He felt a tug on his shoulder and twisted slightly in the saddle to see Mutap.

Her big yellow eyes peered up at him. “Hungry.”

Damn. We weren’t at the tavern long enough to get food or ale.

Sheridan frowned. “Alright, it’s almost nightfall. We’ll camp for the night.”

`~,{@

#gobin #mage #goblin and the mage #fiction #fantasy #fictional fantasy #creative writing #story #book #novel #writing

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carina-debayle · 7 years

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Serick’s Friendship

Log Date: 12/3/16

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the readers enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participants knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @lightsinshadows

After the Grand Alliance I returned home to my apartment. Well… our apartment. Our home. I suppose I was still feeling uneasy after Armont and I’s… could it really even be called a spat? Our disagreement. I mostly felt discouraged, unsure of what to do or how to go about expressing myself to him. Sitting alone within our living room, the air felt dry and suffocating. And I was left to my dreadful thoughts… well, at least for a moment…

Serick Burwani kicks the door open, a brow perked as he glances about the room. “Shit. Living fancy again aren’t you?” he spies a hat on a rack and knocks it off. Replacing it with his own, more superior hat. Across his back is a large package, larger at the bottom and narrow at the top, bound in black leather with clasps holding it shut on the side.

Carina Roussos: “What in seven- Serick?! You can’t just barge in like that!” she huffs. Perking a brow toward the man, Carina inspected him some. “What brings you here…?”

Serick Burwani: “Ha! You need sturdier doors for that, girlie.” he pauses at the use of a familiar nickname, letting out a low growl. “Chasing someone down. Shitlord of a bandit. Targets caravans with women and children so they put up less of a fight. Gonna feed him his own guts when I find him.” he had a couple of daggers strapped to him, and at his leg was a pistol.

Carina Roussos: “I see… so then you’re here because?” she waves her index finger up some, a small smile spreading across her lips, “this does bring back fond memories I suppose,” she laughed out gently, taking her hat out, “does that box contain this man’s guts you intend to force feed him?”

Serick Burwani scoffs and slings the package off his back, setting it on the ground. “No. It doesn’t. Ain’t found ‘im yet, so I can’t exactly cut his guts out.” he looks up at the cake and his tail flicks to the side. He reaches up to it. “Was gonna crash here. Didn’t think you’d be here.”

Carina Roussos: “Didn’t think I would be in my own house?” she laughs with a sigh, “fortunately my daughter is out with her uncle for tonight and Armont is well… not here,” she sighs, “you’re more than willing to sleep on the couch though if you need a place to stay the night.” Carina narrows her eyes toward him as he reaches his hand toward her cake, "no touching. I’ll get my axe, don’t try me.”

Serick Burwanu stopped just before his fingertip swiped a portion of icing. “No shit huh?” he sneers at her and narrows his own eyes. “We haven’t fought in some time have we? If we ever did. You weren’t out of your sorry self-pity pile of shit state by that time were ya?”

Carina Roussos waves her hands up, “I think you may find that some things never change. Were you looking to fight?”

Serick Burwani: “Ha. Not until after I get this job done.” he waves it off and looks around for a wine rack or something similar. “Afterwards, though. We’ll see if you’ve toughened up any.” he hops up onto the counter and peers around. His boots were filthy.

Carina Roussos: “Serick! Come on, I cook food here!” she scoffs, shooing him off the counter, “you’re just like a cat,” she stuck a tongue out at him, “tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you.”

Serick Burwani hops back and just gives the most shit-eating grin. “Booze if you got it. Ain’t had a drink in too damn long.” he takes up his package and hops over the couch, kicking his feet over the sidearm.

Carina Roussos: “I try not to carry too much 'booze’… Armont is a bit of a heavy drinker,” she mumbles, digging through her wine rack to pull out a bottle, “this is one of my own… only because I know Armont would be annoyed if I gave someone one of his wine. He is very protective of it,” she says, walking over to place it on the Miqo'te man’s belly. “This seems like a familiar sight…” she laughs.

Serick Burwani rips the cork off with a grin and spits it back over the couch. “Aye. Old times. Hells girlie, how long 'as it been?” he takes a deep swig, scrunching his nose at the taste, wine was always too fruity for him. “Least we don’t got a bunch of lizards sittin around the house, eh?”

Carina Roussos sits beside him, scooting him back farther into the back. “Yeah… I suppose. The diversity wasn’t bad, but most of the Au Ra we knew had some… issues. Not that we didn’t have issues of our our,” she sighed out with a shake of her head. “It has been a long time… I was reminiscing recently on a time since past.”

Serick Burwani: “Reminicing eh? Usually folks drink to avoid shit like that.” he grins and takes another sip. “And here you are. Married and with a kid. Lookin like you’re going to a beach. Living the life.” his package is sat across his lap, and he drums his fingers against the lid to make a hollow sound.

Carina Roussos: “Right…” she said out softly, “if I said otherwise, I’d sound ungrateful. I made Armont upset with such a statement. This new life, it’s secure. That is good. see you’re still mixed up with trouble. Must be exciting.”

Serick Burwani: “Ha. Nearly got my guts scooped out myself not long ago. Big ole ugly fucker swung an axe at me, caught me off guard.” he pats his side and drains a portion of the bottle before holding it out to her. “It’s the only thing what doesn’t bore me to tears. I’m good at killin folks, what can I say?”

Carina Roussos takes the bottle back from him, staring down at the dark green glass. “We were similiar in that aspect… as much as I hate to admit it, I am not built for a still life. That makes me ungrateful though…” she says out plainly, “I don’t pity myself though, I do feel fortunate. Security is good. I am happy you’re not dead. I don’t think you quite understand how relieved I am to see you every time… I fear every time I see you will be the last.”

Serick Burwani: “Eh, if I die I die and the buzzards get a meal.” he shrugs and flips open a few of the clasps on his case, closing them afterwards. “Wait till your baby girl’s older. Take her everywhere. Show her the world. You get your adventure, she gets to learn.” he shrugs like it was an easy decision. “Don’t settle for anything less than what you want. Gotta take it. Remember?” Serick casts her a sidelong glance, flipping the clasps open and closed.

Carina Roussos: “Yeah… you’re right,” she smiles lightly, “I just, have to be patient. It will be good I’m sure,” she glances over to him, poking a finger to his head, “I consider sometimes just going away a bit on my own, I think perhaps that will help quell my idle-unrest.”

Serick Burwani: “Ha, yeah. Leave the hubby to watching the girl. Go crack some skulls and have some fun.” he whaps her hand away and undoes all the clasps on his case. “If you ain’t careful you’ll get fat and lazy. That just ain’t you, now is it?”

Carina Roussos: “Pssh… please, I practice swinging my axe everyday. Armont has only beaten me once of six times. His brother I have beaten as well. I will say though, I have gained some weight since having Hestia…”

Serick Burwani glances her over, entirely unabashed. “Aye. That you have. Not bad weight, though. Looks to be muscle.” he nods and flips the case open. “I gotta say, though. Lots of free time when all you do is run around chasing people.” he plucks one of the strings inside the case and it lets out a nice twang.

Carina Roussos glances inside the case, “you… you’re not wrong. I do miss that…”

Serick Burwani: “Got into woodcarving. Learned to play this.” he pulls out the old lyre and pushes the case to the ground with a clatter. “Got good at knives again. Mostly I try to drink the time away, but fuck if that doesn’t get expensive.” he smirks and starts plucking idly at the strings. “Ain’t no piano. But it stands in well enough.”

Carina Roussos smiles happily, her elbows resting to her knees as her cheeks went into her palms, “easier to transport as well I’m sure…” her eyes drop to the strings, “have you gotten lots of practice in? I am not doing much at the moment if you want to play a song,” she grins.

Serick Burwani: “Practice. Ha.” a chord sounds and he leans his head back, closing his eyes. “you’d be surprised how many hunters got songs they want to share. I can’t sing for shit, though. Not since this.” his chin tilts up to show off the old scar on his neck. “Not that I ever did before, mind you.” still, he starts strumming up a song.

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Carina Roussos scoffs, “yeah… I understand. I sing for Hestia sometimes but… it’s a bit embarrassingly,” she snorts, “I have a lousy voice, smoke inhalation does that to you…”

Serick Burwani: “You don’t smoke. Could always potion yourself up a fix, too.” he shrugs and goes into the song, his voice gravel and stone as he muttered out the phrases.

Carina Roussos: “I am sure I inhaled enough to have a lasting effect… Calamity you know,” she glances down to her bare belly, scars running down all of her skin. Humming along some with the song, Carina smiled contently, “it’s nice… I like it.”

Serick Burwani stopped singing, but kept strumming on his instrument. “Heard it from a couple of other hunters. A couple what shot down any who hurt them. We teamed up to go after a bandit clan in the shroud.” his brows knit into a glare. “Had to shoot one of 'em. Wasn’t no saving them after those arrows hit their chest. Ruined their lungs.”

Carina Roussos: “I see… that is the sort of life some choose to live. A hard choice… but not for you I’m sure,” she placed the bottle down on the wooden floor, “were you friends with them?”

Serick Burwani: “Nah. They were both right pricks. Thought they were better'n me.” he scoffs and strums out a few chords. “The guy. He looked like he was about to rip my throat out with his bare hands after I killed his wife.” he shrugs and flicks a ragged ear. “Parted ways. I kept the bounty.”

Carina Roussos: “I see… that too is hard to avoid,” she stays silent a moment, her eyes moving toward the fire, “your sentiments… they start to ring through me. At times… I wish I had just decided to cut myself off from others and stayed alone.”

Serick Burwani: “ha. Too late for you now, girlie.” he shakes his head and stomps his foot on the ground, making a steady beat for a shift in chords. “Got yourself a family. Wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t something you wanted to fight for. That baby girl’s your life now. Least until she can take care of herself.”

Carina Roussos: “My daughter means everything to me… but I can’t just strap her to my back and go adventuring… I wish I could, but it’s too dangerous.”

Serick Burwani: “Then wait. Bide your time. Someday she’ll be grown and you’ll be free. Unless you got yourself another brat by then.”

Carina Roussos: “I don’t like to think of her as a burden… she’s not. I just don’t want something bad to happen to her. Unfortunately, being selfish simply isn’t an option.”

Serick Burwani: “It is. But if you pick it you’re a worse person than I am.” he looks over with a sneer. “And that’s really shitty.”

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Carina Roussos: “You’re not as bad as you think you are Serick… you’re never as bad as you think you are. If you were, well I think you would have finished me off sooner.”

Serick Burwani: “You weren’t worth the trouble before. Now? Maybe. But I’ll be damned to the seven hells before I take a momma away from her baby girl. Everyone else? Fair game.” Serick scoffs out a low laugh, tapping his boot to the floor.

Carina Roussos she laughs some, “well I guess I appreciate it. I suppose. You do know I consider you to be my friend… even if you don’t consider me to be yours, yeah?”

Serick Burwani: “Yeah yeah you’re sappy and sentimental. I know. Picked that up some time ago yeah?” he stops and drums his fingers against the side of the guitar. “Nice to know there’s someone out there what don’t hate my guts though. Even if it’s you.” his nose scrunches up into a sneer.

Carina Roussos laughs at his reaction, “gee, thanks!” she snorts out, poking her elbow against his arm, “still hate the water?”

Serick Burwani grumbles and shoves her back. “Aye. That ain’t something you get over. Least when I was with the pirates they didn’t swim either.”

Carina Roussos: “I guess… I mean I couldn’t swim for the life of me either until Hito taught me… I’d say some things are surmountable.”

Serick Burwani: “I don’t do enough growing. Let me drink and smoke and fight and enjoy the shit I enjoy without trying to drown me.”

Carina Roussos smirks, “yeah… I suppose that’s just who you are. Oh well… so long as you don’t end up dead too soon, I’m happy with how you are. Not that I know you care,” she leans back against the couch, playing with her jacket, “guess Armont’s isn’t coming to get me tonight… probably got caught up planning for his House’s expeditions…”

Serick Burwani leans forward and sets his guitar into the case, snapping it shut and pushing it forward with his foot. “I don’t got any plans to die. Too much fun.” he sneers and slips off the couch himself, kicking his feet up onto the couch cushions. “Sounds like your man’s too busy playing with that stick up his ass.”

Carina Roussos: “I wish I knew what to do to remove it… even for just a bit,” she grumbles.

Serick Burwani: “I say you kick him right off that high horse he’s sittin on. Or let me do it.” he laughs and folds his arms over his stomach. “Imagine the look on his face. Gettin his racist, noble Ishgardian ass handed to him by a fuckin homeless, bounty-huntin cat.”

Carina Roussos: “Oh please Serick, he already gets beaten by me,” she snorts, “I just wish I knew what I could do to interest him… I know his work is important to him, but I’d like his attention as well,” she crosses her arms, sinking into the couch seat.

Serick Burwani is quiet for awhile, his eyes closed. “Like what I used to give.”

Carina Roussos opens her mouth some, before shutting her mouth choosing to not respond to that. “He’s just a busy man…”

Serick Burwani chuckles at that. “Remember. Gotta take what you want. If that’s his attention, gotta take it from him.”

Carina Roussos: “Yeah… yeah, guess the who self-deprecating aspect of me makes that hard. Not very good at being you know… persuasive like that.”

Carina Roussos: “Oh come on!” he growls out, smacking his metal knuckles to the ground. “No more of this self-pitying crap! You’re better than that Carina. What the fuck have you been doing all this time to go back to being a piece of shit like that again?”

Carina Roussos winces some, frowning, “it’s a scar of mine that can only be covered… never really fully healed. You of all people, should understand that,” she leers toward him, “I’d say it’s gotten better, but I still struggle. I try not to let it win though,” she laughs softly, “at least you’re honest about it, I respect that.”

Serick Burwani just grumbles and flips her off. “Yeah well it still pisses me off. You keep saying crap like that and I WILL fight you.”

Carina Roussos: “Fight me then! Perhaps just the thing I need for a pick me up is a good spar,” she winks to him.

Serick Burwani taps one of the hilts of his dagger. “No holds barred. Beat the shit out of each other until we’re both satisfied that you’re not gonna dig yourself a pity pile.”

Carina Roussos: “I’m willing if you are, sometimes you just need the pity beaten out of you.”

Serick Burwani: “If I win I get that cake,” he had the most serious look he’s ever had.

Carina Roussos sighs, "fine… and if I win, you have to come and visit me again some time before Starlight.”

Serick Burwani pushes himself up and hops up and down a few times, peeling off his gloves. “We going outside or do I got permission to fuck this place up?”

Carina Roussos: “Outside,” she said plainly.

Serick Burwani: “No fun.”

Carina Roussos: “I’d rather keep my home in one piece, thanks…”

Serick Burwani: “Noooo fun!” he calls back over his shoulder, stuffing his gloves into his pocket. “We going fists, or weapons?”

Carina Roussos: “Probably safer with fists.”

Serick Burwani: “Aye. Don’t need to be bleeding each other out. It’ll get all over my cake.”

Carina Roussos: “Oh hush about the cake…” she rolls her eyes, leading them out.

Serick Burwani pulls out his knives, throwing them into the dirt a ways away. His gun is tossed next to them. “Aight. Here we go.”

Carina Roussos tugs at her gloves some, the leather squeeze as she closes her fists, “ready as I’ll ever be,” she grins, digging her heels into the grass.

Serick Burwani launches himself forward, throwing a swift right hook to her jaw.

Carina Roussos more or less eats shit as he knocks her to the side with a swift fist to her face. Breathing uneasily from the rather sudden hit to the face, spitting some blood that she tasted from her teeth more than likely cutting the inside of her mouth, Carina swiftly swung a muscular leg up toward the side of his head.

Serick Burwani let out a laugh when his first strike connected. “COME ON, I THOUGHT-” his words were cut short by a kick to the head, stumbling back while the world spun around him. He blinks and shook his head to settle his vision before hopping forward, grabbing for her hair to distract while he brought his knee up to her stomach.

Carina Roussos brings a fist back, stepping back to avoid his hands before launching her fist forward to him back in the jaw. “Best not be talking shit before the match is even over! Three hits, Serick!”

Serick Burwani was off-balance from the failed attack, trying to bring his arm up to block the strike. Seems he’s gotten slow in his time away. The fist connects and knocks him to the ground, bringing a loud laughter from him as he un-crumpled himself from the ground. “Atta girl! Now you got some fire back!” Legs coil beneath him and he launches towards her, shoulder aimed at her diaphragm in a shoulder tackle.

Carina Roussos topples back as a loud crack was heard. Seething through her teeth painfully, Carina’s eyes lit up in ferocity as she fought through the burning pain in her shoulder to bring her legs up to kick Serick harshly in the chest to send him back.

Serick Burwani was indeed sent flying back, his own ribs cracking in a couple of places from the rage-fueled kick. He coughs and sputters, laughing on his back in some twisted, pain-laugh combination. “Fuckin hells. Thought we were tryin’ to avoid killing each other.” he rasped out, staring up at the sky.

Carina Roussos: “You aren’t dead are you?” she grunts, “I win, besides… you know you like this sorta stuff,” she groans out painfully as she sat up, staring up at the sky, “fuuuuuuck!” she yelled out, taking a deep breath and exhaling it out noisily, “that was… that was good…”

Serick Burwani coughed out another laugh. “Ain’t dead yet, girlie. Gotta try harder than that. He waited for a time before trying to sit up, wincing and twisting his lip up into a snarl, showing off his chipped fangs. "Now. Don’t pull this shit again you hear? You got too much business to take care of to whine and cry to yourself.”

Carina Roussos: “Yeaaah… yeah… you’re right,” she takes a few deep breathes, looking up at the sky, “you know.. dusk is my favourite time of day… just between day and night… it gives me such a strange feeling and it feel so fleeting.”

Serick Burwani looks up to the sky, one arm held to his side, the other scratching at the scruff on his chin, sliding down his scars. “Like taking just the right shot. Only got a moment and it’s gone. Aye. I know how ya feel.”

Carina Roussos: “It’s nice… I wish it lasted longer. Seems the good moments in life are like that. Come and go so fast…” she exhales again before painfully standing to her feet, “well probably broke my collarbone some, but that’s not something a potion can’t fix,” she smiles toward the Miqo'te man, “thanks, Serick.”

Serick Burwani scoffs and flips her off. “Well fuck you. You broke my ribs.” still, he breaks out a grin and turns back to the apartment complex. “If I don’t take one'a your potions, can I still get the cake?”

Carina Roussos: “You can have a slice of cake and a potion, how about that?”

Serick Burwani: “that’ll do girlie.”

Serick Burwani: “Your potions still taste like fried marmot asshole?”

Carina Roussos: “Yeah, pretty much.”

Serick Burwani: “Fix that.”

Carina Roussos grabs two vials filled with a light green substance, returning back into the main area, “afraid they have their purpose,” she tosses him one of them, “will still probably have some bruising, but it will heal anything broken.”

Serick Burwani had a knife out, nearly to the cake, “Oh yeah. Should wash it down with this.”

Carina Roussos narrows her eyes toward Serick, “I will cut your cake, I am sure your idea of a slice is half the cake,” she scoffs.

Serick Burwani scoffs back and snatches the potion from her hand, downing it with a scrunched nose. “Fuckin hells that’s awful.”

Carina Roussos: “Yeah well, that’s medication for you,” she moves over to the cake, cutting him a decent sized slice with a nearby knife. Placing it on a plate for him, she offered it to the man, “want to take Hestia’s bed since she’s gone for the night?”

Serick Burwani takes the cake and goes over to the fireplace, laying down with the cake balanced on his chest. “Naw. I’ll sleep here…

…Hey.”

Carina Roussos: “Yeah?”

Serick Burwani: “Remember that time I hadn’t slept in like, a week and passed out in the main room. Some big fight broke out and I woke up all bruised up?” He was eating the cake with his hands. Like an animal.

Carina Roussos: “I suppose… you got into a lot of fights. Why, were you thinking about it?”

Serick Burwanj: “Naw. Just sleeping in front of a fire reminded me of that. What a pile of shit eh?” He sneers over at her. “I’m gettin old.”

Carina Roussos: “Oh hush up… if you’re getting old then I am too…” she spat back in annoyance, “it’s not like I was much better… remember when I’d sleep under my desk instead of in a bed? We weren’t that much different you know…”

Serick Burwani: “Ha. Yeah. What a child,” Serick knocks the plate off onto the ground, lucky to not have it break, and pulls his hat onto his face.

Carina Roussos brings her boot up, pressing it to his head, "what’d you say…” she asked through grit teeth.

Serick Burwani grumbles something and waves her foot off. “Said you come a ways since then.”

Carina Roussos: “That’s what I thought,” she 'humphed’ removing her boot from him as she reclined against the couch cushion quietly, “there were a lot of places you probably could have gone to… did you at least come here to see me?” she asked softly.

Serick Burwani didn’t say anything. Didn’t think he’d have to.

I think… things would get better. No. I believed they would.

#journal #serick burwani #rorick aster

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