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jadekitty777 · 2 years

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Love on Borrow Tai: Chapter 3

Work is going to steal my soul before this week is over.

But who cares, new chapter time! We’re getting into the thick of it now.

Prompt for Day 4: Disaster and Dreams

Rating: T overall

Word Count: 5400

Summary: Tai’s life was simple. He rescued and rehabilitated injured Pokemon, helping them get back on their feet and back into the world. Then fate decided to throw him a curveball in the form of Qrow Branwen.

He had no idea how to rehabilitate a person… but his natural goodwill, and maybe a speck of loneliness, made him want to try.

Qrow was lost in more ways than one. With no home, no job, and his team and himself left severely injured, he finds himself desperately turning to the one man in Alola who could help him.

…A man he’d already met once before, but could never tell him how. [Pokemon AU]

Ao3 Link: Chapter 3

He was falling.

A stomach-dropping plummet into a miasma of black and swirling grays that blended together like a churning sea but was weightless like clouds, seen only in flashes of blue and orange lightning. Black creatures with single, large round eyes streamed past him.

He landed onto feathers and he gripped onto Reaper’s back like a lifeline. “Go! Get out!” He ordered her.

She didn’t get a chance to beat her wings once before they felt an enormous presence behind them. His companion faded away.

Alone again, floating in nothing, he turned in the nether-space.

A pair of giant glowing eyes stared back.

Qrow jerked awake, a scream in his throat that he stoppered off at the neck. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down and his breathing to even out.

Beside him, a soft golden glow started to light up the room, accompanied by a quiet, “Bre?”

He reached out, patting his Umbreon soothingly. “I’m alright Yoraito.”

But he certainly wasn’t getting back to sleep.

“Hey, how ‘bout we go out and see the others?”

“Umbre!”

Gingerly, he sat up, mindful of his left side. He’d gotten the cast off only a week ago, and too much pressure to his elbow tended to hurt, so he tried not to push too much weight onto it. If it wasn’t that, then it was his ribs, which would scream in protest if he moved too fast. It was hard not to feel like an old man as he carefully anchored himself out of bed.

In comparison, Yoraito was across the bed and down the steps to wait at the door with practiced ease, only stumbling once on his three paws. It was an effort for Qrow not to leap to his rescue.

“You’ve got to let him do it himself. That includes falling.” Tai’s words rang like a mantra. He’d said them the same day they’d removed the sling support that allowed them to catch the fox if he lost his balance.

“But-”

“No buts. He’s gonna do just fine, just you wait and see.”

Now, as they tiptoed down the hall like they’d done many times before, there was barely a hop to Yoraito’s step to be seen, as if he wasn’t missing his right foreleg at all. Qrow was proud of how far he’d come… even if he still wished he hadn’t had to go through the effort at all.

The hall opened up into a decently sized living room and attached kitchenette. A quick sweep told him Emerald the Glameow was curled up on the couch back and Cinder the fireless and half-blind Torracat was stretched out on the rug. Mercury, the footless Skarmory, was roosting in his hammock strung in the nook window.

Tai didn’t normally keep his rescuees inside the house after they’d past any needed recovery period. Had said it often led to the Pokemon developing co-dependency issues, which wasn’t ideal when trying to rehome or return them to the wild, whatever the case may be. The trio was an exception. They were transfers from another facility and what Tai called a “Critical Ring Isolation” case – Pokemon who’d been abused to heighten aggression for illegal fighting rings. As they’d come from the same cage, the three had developed a bond to one another, but would fight nearly anything else that moved and therefore couldn’t be trusted to bunk in with the other Pokemon.

So other than the trio, the house was often Pokemon-less. Tai didn’t even let his own Pokemon inside and Qrow had also been limited to who he could bring inside the home, which mainly meant Yoraito, since his dark fox was the only one of his team with a low temperament (though he had, on occasion, snuck Blight and Beatrix through his bedroom window).

However, the enclosed porch, which was through the door directly across the room, was another matter entirely. Tai kept that room off-limits to the three so he could still rehabilitate Pokemon that needed some degree of ‘inside’ care – and it was exactly where Qrow needed to go.

He glanced over his shoulder to Tai’s room. The master bedroom door was wide open, making it easier for the occupant if he had to hurry and attend a crisis. It also made it harder for Qrow to sneak around without waking him up. If the trio started up a racket, the game was over. So, he’d developed a routine.

He nodded to his Pokemon, and together they made their way along the edges of the back wall, far away from Mercury and Cinder. With the couch so close to the back of the room, they couldn’t avoid waking Emerald though.

As the cat’s gaze narrowed on them, Qrow rose a hand to his lips, before setting a few pokeblocks down by her. Distracted by the sight of food as she often was, she stopped paying them any mind as she devoured the treats, allowing for them to make it the rest of the way to the door. They slipped in quickly.

Qrow took a deep breath, the smell of fresh soil and flowers prominent. There were shelves full of different plants lining the far wall, from ivys to creeping figs to roses and dahlias. In every corner was a dracaena tree. There were bowls for food and water set in various places, a few toys, and a sitting couch that faced towards the sea, and a small, short table in front of it. The walls not attached to the house were lined with big windows and a set of open double doors led outside. A skylight in the roof streamed in the moonlight, giving the room a silvery-blue glow.

But it was what was on the couch, and in the threshold of the doorway, and hiding behind one of the Dracaena trees that Qrow focused on.

Blight woke first, mostly because his Umbreon zipped right to her, finding space between her paws and the end of the couch to leap between. When the Absol rose her head to yawn, Yoraito climbed onto her legs and cuddled against her chest.

“Hey girl,” Qrow greeted, stroking a hand down her back, strands of her soft, white fur sticking to his hand. Her thick coat had been shedding for weeks now, unused to the higher heat quality of Alola. It also made the four long scars that marred down the entirety of her flank more visible.

It was sad to think that she’d been one of the luckiest of his team. Not like-

“Scccy.”

“Ark!”

He turned, seeing the two creeping forward with nerves they never used to have. Tai told him it was normal for them to be more nervous after such trauma, but Qrow couldn’t help but feel it was his fault.

When he first got to Tai’s place, the only thing he wanted was to see his Pokemon. So Tai obliged, taking him to Reaper first. Thanks to her size, she could only fit in the loft of the barn; she was using the hay to nest in. Her broken wing was tightly bound to her side to keep her from flight, but she’d always been a tenacious type, already able to navigate her way around with just her beak and talons. The ultimate goal was to get her back in the sky, but Tai warned her recovery would be the lengthiest; between her hollow bones and hefty weight, there was a delicate line between getting her in the air and making sure she didn’t strain so much it caused another fracture. Even longer before she could carry him again – if she ever could.

Even after two months, she’d yet to take off.

After a loving hair preening session from his loyal corvid, he’d been brought inside to the room that would become his bedroom. Yoraito and Blight were both there, coned and kenneled to limit movement and make sure they didn’t bite at their stitches. They were both sleepy, still being kept on a decent level of pain killers to keep them comfortable, at most being able to offer him tail wags and licks to his hands as he spoke to them.

Maybe it was simply the calm and controlled environment, maybe it was because the decision to amputate the shattered limb of his Umbreon was something he and Tai had talked over before giving Nurse Joy the go ahead, but Qrow had managed to keep it together seeing his two canines. But when he was then guided to the porch, and saw Beatrix’s scorched and patchy fur and Harbinger’s missing arm and left wing set, despite their instant joy at seeing him, he was ashamed to say the first thing he did was turn right back around and run out of the room.

Tai found him outside, huddled in the shadows against the wall of the house, weeping like a scared, little kid. If he thought he was pathetic, he never said so, only sat down beside him and rubbed at his back until the tears subsided.

His second try was more successful, but by then the damage had been done.

He’d practically been tripping over himself ever since trying to fix it.

“Hey guys,” Hands up, palms down, just like Tai taught him so that he’d be less threatening to the more skittish Pokemon around here.

Harbinger came forward first. Qrow ran his hand along his triangular head and up to his crown. The Scyther’s exoskeleton was smooth and cool as always and as Qrow’s attentions reached his favorite spot, the top of his center spike, the Pokemon sighed and curled his one remaining scythe-shaped limb around his waist. Most people who saw his mantis do this thought it was a cute little hug, but Qrow knew the truth: Harbinger was only trying to trap him in to get more pets.

At least now it was only half as difficult to get away.

Grimacing at his own dark humor, he didn’t notice Beatrix approach until her snout was pressing up against his fingers.

Looking at her, no one could tell a thing was wrong. But underneath the illusion his Zoroark could cast, he could feel his fingers slipping against the coarse, spindly parts of her fur that had survived between mismatched parts where the burns had left her naked and scarred. The worst of it was her mane – most of the luxurious locks had been lost, leaving her with little more than a choppy bob cut that barely passed her chin. They had her on a special diet to hopefully facilitate hair growth and Tai even talked about taking her to a groomer’s on Akala Island to help her regain some confidence. But until Qrow got her to drop the fake image of herself – something she pulled up almost on reflex whenever she spotted him – there wasn’t any point.

No one could tell him that wasn’t his fault. He’d been weak when his Pokemon needed him, more than ever, to be strong.

But the therapist he was forced to meet with twice a week had handwaved off any of his guilt under the guise that he had faced a ‘harrowing memory trigger that he wasn’t ready to face yet’. Never mind that he wasn’t amnesic. Never mind that he could still see the attacks clear as day, the horror of watching parts of Harbinger just slice away or the sound of Beatrix’s screams still keeping him up at night.

Tai, as always, had been more honest. “Yeah, you set them back. Now it’s time to help them move forward.”

Then he showed him how. Tai was practically Arceus-sent (and, considering how he got to Alola, that might be more literal than he cared to think about). Qrow had no idea where he and his Pokemon would be at this point, if not for him.

The recovery was slow going, but they were progressing. Blight and Yoraito were nearly back to normal. Reaper would fly again soon. And he’d earn back Beatrix and Harbinger’s courage, no matter what it took.

“Come on.” Qrow led his Pokemon back to the couch, finding space on the last cushion to sit. Harbinger found a spot on the floor, laying his head in his lap. Beatrix hopped up on the arm, cuddling against him. On his other side, Blight nudged her head against his arm and Yoraito rested his chin on his thigh.

For just a night, Qrow finally felt at peace.

“Rise and shine!”

Qrow grumbled out, “Go’way,” before pressing his face more firmly into his pillow to hide from the light. His… oddly fur-covered pillow.

“Sooo,” He could hear the laughter in Tai’s voice, “Guessing you were a little behind in getting to bed last night?”

His brow twisted, suspicion growing, before he pulled back and opened his eyes. Blight’s ass was what greeted him.

“Ugh!” He wiggled, trapped between her and the back of the couch – he guessed Beatrix must have laid him down when he’d fallen asleep. He pushed against his Absol’s leg. “Alright, up!”

She gave a huff of annoyance, but obediently jumped down.

All the while Tai was yucking it up like it was the most hilarious thing he’d ever seen.

At least he’d brought coffee as a pre-made apology.

Qrow sat up and accepted the cup, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Ugh, what time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

“What?!” Fuck, he’d missed all the morning chores. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

“Well, I tried, but Emerald wouldn’t let me approach the door.” Tai sat down across from him on the table, his smirk a little too omniscient. “Seems like she’s getting a little attached to the human who keeps feeding her to sneak around.”

Qrow feigned innocence immediately. “I have done no such thing.”

“Mmhmm.” Tai arched a brow, less amused now.

He winced. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mess with her regime, did I?”

“Nah, I’m mostly messing with you. It’s good she’s starting to trust other people.” He leant back on his palms, adding, “Keep it up and I might just make you adopt her.”

“You made that sound really threatening.” He mumbled into his cup. After taking the first, glorious sip of sweet caffeine, he sighed and said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“Don’t worry about it. You only come in here when you’re having a rough night.”

He’d…noticed that? Qrow ducked his head, trying to hide his shame as it bloomed red across his cheeks. “I uh…”

A hand on his knee almost gave him a heart attack. “I mean it Qrow. It’s fine.”

How? How was he so kind? And thoughtful? And wonderfu-

Stop it. He snapped at himself, the warmth on his face from something else entirely. It’s wrong and you know it.

“I still should be earning my keep.” He mumbled stubbornly.

“No, what you should be doing is focusing on getting better.”

As he always did when someone brought up his ‘condition’, Qrow bristled. He was so tired of being treated as if he was made of glass. Even if his memory had actually been wiped, it wasn’t like one wrong move would make him jump into the nearest volcano or something. He wasn’t that kind of crazy. But the alternative at this point was to tell the truth. To spill his guts about every stupid decision he made to get him to this point – and then he’d be treated as worse than insane.

He’d be treated like a criminal.

If anyone believed him, that is.

Tai would. You could prove it to him right now. His brain traitorously replied. But you’re too much of a coward to do that, aren’t you?

No! Another side of him argued. Tai just doesn’t deserve all that heartache.

He shook the thoughts away, unsure which side he even believed anymore.

“Actually, you know what?” Tai pulled him from his musings. “You should take the day off. Take some time for yourself.”

His grip on his cup tightened. “But Yoraito is supposed to start sprint training today. And Reaper needs more time on the flap bar. And the Rockruff pups need their pen cleaned. And-”

“And,” Tai cut in obstinately, “It will all be here tomorrow. The world’s not going to end if you miss one day. Everyone needs a break sometimes.”

Qrow scoffed. “Says the guy who works seven days a week.”

“I’m also not the one dealing with an encyclopedia-full of mental and physical trauma.” He shot back.

“Don’t make it sound so dramatic.” He grumbled, draining the rest of his coffee.

As he went to set it aside, his heart went through its second cardiac arrest of the morning when Tai caught his wrist. His blue eyes peered back at him with such earnest concern, it was likely going to cause a third. “And you shouldn’t just brush it off like it doesn’t matter. Qrow. I beyond appreciate how much you’ve been helping out around here – even if I really should have been letting you rest.”

“I didn’t want rest.” He wasn’t an orphan anymore, lost in the system and unwanted. And he was absolutely done taking handouts to get by. It was why he took the job offer from Ozpin all those years ago – it was the first real opportunity he’d been given to get his own feet on the ground.

It was too bad he couldn’t see how much of a mistake it was going to be.

“I know you didn’t. You’re like me; if you’re not doing something, then you feel useless. I’m not denying that.” Tai amended. “But I also can see how much you’ve been pushing yourself to keep it up and I don’t want it to end up hurting you instead.” He squeezed his wrist gently, before letting go and getting to his feet. “So, day off. Go relax. Sunbathe on the beach. Eat your weight in ice cream. Just, go do something fun.”

Qrow watched him snatch up his empty mug and head for the door, calling after him, “You’re not letting me out of this, are you?”

“Nope!” Tai chirped back cheerfully. As he started to slip back in the house, he threw a wink over his shoulder. “And hey, if you go, I’ll even let you borrow Sunflower.”

He absolutely refused to admit how that made him perk up, just a little bit.

Qrow felt like a king.

It was virtually impossible not to when he was riding full speed into town on a shiny Arcanine. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten the chance to travel with the tiger dog, but the only other time had been when he’d been released from the hospital. While he’d been enamored with her even then, the slow, winding trot back to Tai’s place had been mostly unpleasant, each jolt of her paws leaving the worst of his injuries jarring.

Now, there was nothing holding him back. There were no cars on the main road, few needing them, so their path was clear. “Come on girl, give me everything you got!”

“Arc!” She barked, leaning even further into her sprint.

He whooped as they moved even faster, people and buildings speeding on by. The wind whipped his hair up in a frenzy, stung at his skin, and it was glorious. It almost felt like flying with Reaper, except bumpier. His legs were going to protest the rough treatment later, but he hardly cared. This was the most fun he’d had in weeks.

He was just beginning to wonder if they could circle the entire island at this speed – when a green-haired man carrying a tower of books and a Luxray at his side stumbled out from in front of a van, right in his path.

“WHOA! WATCH OUT.” Qrow shouted.

The man yelled, books scattering everywhere as he ducked to the asphalt. As they continued to run right at him.

He yanked on Sunflower’s reins uselessly, panic filling him, certain he was about to become a criminal a second time around.

Then, Qrow felt weightless for a moment as the dog jumped, leaping right over the pair.

He grunted as they landed, the impact shocking pain through his chest. Sunflower’s paws skidded a bit on the road as they slid to a stop, before she turning around and loped back to the man they’d nearly run over.

It took him a second to realize he knew who he was, if only because he can around to the Sunny Day Daycare so often.

“By Arceus’ word, where’s the fire Ta- oh. Qrow?” Bart adjusted his glasses, blinking up at them. “What in the world are you doing?”

He laughed nervously, hopping down from the dog’s back. “Sorry Bart, was just having a little fun. Guess we got a little carried away.”

“You think?!”

“Ray-ray!!” Mocha echoed angrily. She seemed only further displeased when Sunflower offered her a gigantic, apologetic lick that made the right side of her mane stick straight up.

“Sorry, sorry.” Qrow rubbed the back of his neck, before he leaned down, helping the other gather up his books.

The historian sighed, accepted the load. “I suppose no harm done.” He offered Sunflower a cursory glance, his frown becoming more pronounced. “Everything is okay, right?”

He waved his hands frantically. “Of course! Hah, Tai just gave me the day off. Told me to go ‘enjoy myself’, or something.”

Bart’s eyes lit up. “Oh, well, if you’re looking for something to do, why not read a book?”

“Huh.” He toned back blankly.

Bart nodded behind himself, where a small, yellow building sat. On the roof, a sign “Melemele Library” was proudly scrawled in blue. “There’s nothing quite like the adventure in a good story!”

“Uuuh, yeaaah. Not really my thing.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “Word of advice though? Take your joyriding outside of town, lest you want to be handcuffed to another bed.”

He flushed. Did everyone know about that? “Right… Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Bart nodded, heading on his way. “Come on Mocha.”

The Luxray offered them one final glare, before she fell back into step with her trainer.

Qrow turned around, reaching up to adjust the orange bow on Sunflower’s ear that had fallen askew. “Didn’t even know this small place had a library.” Not like he’d taken the time to explore. Beyond going in for his physical and mental therapy appointments, and the occasional trip to the market when Tai needed an extra hand, he hadn’t had time to sightsee.

He froze, eyes widening in realization.

And libraries… archived newspapers.

“Arc?” Sunflower woofed curiously as Qrow guided her around the parked cars, tying her to a light post.

“Stay here for a minute.” He said, fingers shaking. “I gotta look at something real quick.”

He rushed through the sliding doors, gunning right for the front desk. Behind it was a man with sideburns for days and nails that were oddly sharpened into points. He seemed rather bored, thumbing through a comic book collection. A name tag on his shirt read ‘Tukson’. He gave him a cursory glance as Qrow approached. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, looking for a computer. Got any?” He tried not to tap his foot, apprehension tying his stomach into knots.

“In the back.” Tukson replied disinterestedly, flipping another page of his book. “Don’t use it to play video games.”

Qrow was already hurrying away. “Got it. Thanks.”

He walked down the main aisle lined with bookshelves. The end opened up to a small sitting area on one side, and a row of computers set against the wall on a long desk. None of them were occupied, so he sat down at the first one. The background was a simple logo of the library itself, and there was a short directory of quick-link programs along the side of the desktop.

He scanned through them, finding one titled ‘Archives’ and double clicked on it. It opened to a catalog, with a set of tabs along the top, listing out things like Magazines, Research Papers, Filmography, and Obituaries. He hovered the cursor over Newspapers, which brought down a drop-down search by region. He tapped on Sinnoh.

The program opened up to a list of hyperlinks, which he quickly realized were company names. He scrolled partway down, until he found The Floaroma Gazette. The page after showed today’s print and had a menu on the side that allowed for a search by date.

He filled in the month, date and year fields until it read: April 22, 2007.

One day after the incident.

Trembling, breath shallow, he clicked Search.

Qrow barely withheld the cry of distress as the page loaded, burying his head in his hands.

On the screen, the words Four Dead, One Missing in Unidentified Explosion read back in big, bold letters. Directly underneath was a picture of a small laboratory, the walls warped and rooftop broken in, as if the building had been struck by a concentrated earthquake.

What were you expecting, really?

Qrow stared down at the article he’d printed out, reading over the first sentence of the third paragraph as he had done so probably half a dozen times throughout the day:

Of the known employees on site at the time of the incident, only four of the five bodies were recovered. Qrow Branwen, 36, remains missing. The remaining casualties include: Ozpin P-

His stomach churned and he looked away. Not for the first time that day, his eyes burned.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. But he’d stupidly clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, his friends had ended up like him. Flung somewhere else – some time else.

What a fool he was.

“Arro?” Sunflower looked back at him worriedly.

He sniffed, rubbing away the water in his eyes. “I’m okay girl. Come on, we’re almost home.”

She whined, but continued up the dirt road that wound through the hills. Dusk had begun to fall, coating the land in gentle oranges. Contrastingly, their shadows spread along the ground and stretched up along the rocks, following them like hulking Gengars waiting to curse them.

A chill spread along his skin when a screech pierced the air.

“Fllly!!!”

His head jerked up, seeing a familiar green dragonfly rocketing towards them. “Liusha?”

Sunflower’s body tensed, suddenly on alert, before she took off up the hill without warning.

“Whoa-!” Qrow barely grabbed onto her reins in time, bending over and clenching in his legs so he didn’t go flying off. Above them, the dragon circled them erratically, continuing to burst out those sharp alarm calls.

He had no idea what it meant, but knew it had to be trouble. He stuffed the paper in the travel knapsack attached to Sunflower’s saddle, before he adjusted his grip and braced himself. “Go!”

Unlike their ride to town, there was no joy to be had as the Arcanine hit her top speed, reaching the daycare in record time. They skirted around the house to the fields in the back. As Qrow pulled up at her reins, making her slow, he hardly knew what to make of the scene before him.

“What in the…”

The first pair to catch his eye was Siren and Yin, Tai’s Primarina and Pangoro. The sea lion mermaid was finishing off a dulcet lullaby, putting a small pack of Yungoos to sleep. It was apparent she’d done this many times, for Yin was hefting up a pair of dozing Mudbray, lumbering his way towards the barn with them. For those not asleep, Tai’s Lucario, Zwei, was carefully herding the more panicked Pokemon back towards the center of the field, presumably to join the others in naptime.

Among one of the many sleeping piles, he spotted Yoraito, Habinger and Beatrix. Reaper had found her way to the top of the barn, head turning this way and that as she kept an eye on the grounds. Occasionally, she’d give a cry, and Zwei would change direction, following her instruction.

Things seemed under control out here, but where was-?

“Tai?” He called, jumping down from Sunflower.

A whine had him turning back towards the house. Blight was at the back door, frantically scratching at the frame’s wood.

What truly scared him was that the door had been left partially open.

Tai never left it open.

Qrow didn’t think, he just ran.

He burst through the doorway, the shout about to escape him being unexpectedly cut short by the relief that filled him when he spotted the blond bent over the sink, water running.

That is, until it was Stomped out of him with the ferocity of a herd of Rapidash when he noticed the droplets of blood leading a path from the doorway to the kitchen. “Arceus be damned.” He breathed, trying not to panic as he crossed the room. “Tai!”

Tai flinched, as if he’d been surprised and when he looked at him, he seemed momentarily confused. Had he not heard him come in? “Huh? Oh, hey Qrow. Welcome back.”

Close enough now, he was able to see the damage. “Fuck.” Qrow swore, seeing the deep gorges in the other’s arm, streams of blood streaking down his arm and into the basin, coloring the water pink. “What happened?”

He knew something was really wrong when Tai blinked back at him for a few seconds, before the question actually registered. “Oh, uh, you know. Had a lil’ setback. There was a landslide from the upper level, the one Iki Town is on; caused a lot of noise. Blight tried to warn us – she’s a good girl, you know? You should give her a treat later-”

“Tai.” Qrow interjected as calmly as he could. “How. Did. You. Get. Hurt.”

“Oh, uh yeah um, I didn’t quite understand what she was saying and then the landslide happened. No one got hurt but everyone panicked. Tried to get a handle on things and, well uh,” Like the world had suddenly tilted, Tai stumbled, almost falling into the sink. Qrow reached out to steady him. “Mmm, kinda got bit.”

“By what?” When Tai didn’t respond, just stared into nothing, Qrow dug his fingers into his shoulders, hoping the bit of pain would bring him back. “Tai, by what?”

“Mm……… Salandit.”

Fuck.

He gathered as much calm as he could muster, saying very slowly and clearly, “Tai, I think you’ve been poisoned.” That, or he was losing a meter-ton of blood. Maybe both. How long had he been standing here?

“Yeah…” Tai agreed, lifting his arm and rotating his wrist, inspecting the damage with a creepy sense of awe. “Probably need to go to the hospital.” Then his knees promptly buckled.

Qrow had enough strength to catch him, but not enough to keep them both standing. Instead, he guided them both to the floor, letting the other rest against him as he tried to think. There was no way he could get Tai out of here on his own, but most of his Pokemon who could help were either too big to fit in the doorway or currently knocked out.

“Blight!” His Absol gave an answering bark. “Get Zwei, bring him in here!”

Another bark and then paws scampered away.

Tai tapped his leg insistently, slurring, “No Pokemon in the house.” This close, Qrow could feel him shivering, but the skin of his forehead was clammy with sweat. He was also concerningly pale.

“Yeah, yeah. I know buddy.” Qrow shifted the other so more of his weight was against his shoulder. The extra movement allowed him to reach for his belt, pulling it off. He then wrapped it around the base of Tai’s upper arm, above the elbow. He fed the leather through the buckle a few times, until the tourniquet was tight enough to restrict blood flow. It would have to do until they got to the hospital and then everything would be fine.

Absolutely rejected any inkling of a thought that tried to tell him otherwise.

There was no way he was he losing him too.

Said, more for himself than anyone, “You’re gonna be okay.”

“’Course I will.” Tai replied confidently, head lolling against his shoulder, smiling wider than a Carnivine, “I’ve got you.”

Just like in his dream this morning, Qrow felt like he was falling.

It would have felt nice, if he didn’t already know how bad the eventual impact would hurt.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #taiqrowweek2022 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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hurt-care · 3 years

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The Reunion - WW2 era fic

I've been listening to an audiobook about WWII in the UK and there's been multiple mentions of people writing in their diaries about suffering from lengthy colds as well as a discussion of the increase in casual sex during the war (especially during air raids, when it became a welcome distraction). So, let's just say I was inspired...!

Male, cold, OCs, contains 18+ content

The Reunion -

The club was positively bursting with young revellers and the sounds of a jazz band playing as couples moved across the dance floor in tight embraces, flitting in and out of shadow of the chandeliers sparkling overhead. Champagne flowed liberally, delivered by waiters in smart tuxedo jackets and white gloves. If a time-traveller had been magically transported inside, they would have no idea that outside the walls of the club there was a war on.

Making her way through the throngs of people was Katherine Marsh, or Kat to her close friends. Close at her heels was Mary Alderman, an old school chum who'd come up through London society with her. The girls wove through the dancers on route to a table up on the balcony that circled the dance floor, providing a spectacular view of the room below. Only the uppers of society generally occupied the tables here and the demand was such that often bribes had to be given to the head waiter to ensure a spot. Peter Halford, one of Kat's other longtime friends, had been in charge of the evening's transaction and now he waved cheerily from a spot in the corner as the girls approached.

“Hello, Peter!” Kat said joyfully as she sided into a chair along the wall, tucking the skirt of her silk gown around her. “Have you ordered a bottle yet or shall I do the honours?”

“It's just coming now,” Peter replied, nodding towards the approaching waiter who carried a magnum size bottle in a silver ice bucket while another waiter followed behind deftly balancing a tray of champagne coupes.

“Your timing is impeccable as ever,” Mary said with a laugh. “I'm parched.”

She flashed a smile at Peter, her eyes sparkling in the light of the crystal scones along the walls. Kat smirked knowingly at her friend. Mary had been pursuing Peter over the course of several of these evenings out on the town, but Peter remained seemingly oblivious to her advances.

Tonight, Mary was draped in layers of royal blue silk with a spectacular diamond bracelet glinting on her wrist. She looked radiant and Kat thought Peter had to be completely daft to not notice. Kat, on the other hand, had no particular beau in mind. She'd danced with dozens of men and dined at parties across the countryside around London, but no one gentleman had captured her heart. Besides, she was barely twenty and so many of the young men her age were away at service. For now, she was content with dancing and snogging sessions in dim alleyway with soldiers on leave and officers posted to city stations.

The waiter poured them all glasses of champagne and the trio toasted to health, happiness, and the victory of Britain. The chat was light and merry, with Peter filling them in on his new job at the Royal Airforce's London offices near Whitehall. At the hour neared eleven, someone took to the microphone to introduce the next band complete with a line of cabaret dancers dressed in feathers and sequins for entertainment. Mary squealed in delight as the drums kicked up the beat of a popular dance tune and she reached for Peter's hand.

“Oh, will you dance?” she asked breathlessly. “I love this song.”

Peter downed the last of his champagne glass as he stood up.

“Of course. Kat, find yourself a man and let's go.”

The two disappeared into a sea of people moving towards stairs that led to the dance floor. Kat drained her own coupe and stood, surveying the crowded tables for familiar faces or handsome strangers.

A few girls were lingering at a table of Naval officers and as the men stood and paired off with them, one man remained seated alone with a cigarette in his hand. As the duos passed by, Kat realized with a heart-dropping thud that she recognized the lone officer that had stayed behind.

Oliver Hartnett had danced with her at her first debutant ball when she was seventeen and she'd been completely enraptured by him. Two pages of her diary were dedicated to extolling his virtues, from the gentle tambour of his voice to his green eyes, from to his broad shoulders to his chestnut hair. As quickly as he'd come into her life, he'd left it again. They'd shared two dances that night and some brief conversation at a dinner party a week later, and then she hadn't seen him since. Word in the upper circles said he'd gone to Scotland to work for an aging uncle's business and he disappeared from London's upper crust.

Kat dumped the dregs of the champagne bottle into her coupe and gulped it down, feeling the rush of bubbles to her head as she bolstered her courage. She reached into her small handbag for her compact, inspecting her face and reapplying a coat of her precious lipstick, as the bright red shade was now nearly impossible to find with the war rations and so she reserved it for nights out alone.

With a smile on her face that she hoped concealed her nerves, she glided as confidently as she could over to the table.

“Ollie Hartnett, is that you?” she said over the din of the music and the crowd. The man at the table seemed startled by the interruption and he looked up at her, his face vacant for a moment. Then, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh my goodness, Miss Marsh,” he said, standing suddenly and extending his hand.

She laughed.

“It's Kat, please,” she said, taking his broad hand in her and shaking it. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course, please do,” he said, fumbling to get around the vacant chairs nearby in order to pull out one for her. She folded herself gracefully into the seat, crossing her ankles as her mother had always instructed. For once, she was glad she'd listened to Mary's constant chatter about fashion and had worn the deep emerald green silk gown with the black trim that she'd purchased for the previous winter's New Year Eve celebration at Mary's family estate. It set off her figure nicely and contrasted with her auburn hair and milk-white complexion.

Oliver was shaking her head, still grinning.

“What a surprise,” he said, his gentle voice barely audible over the music. “You look well.”

She smiled back.

“I am! Well, as well as anyone is in London at war, I suppose. You've joined up, I see. On leave?”

“For a few more weeks,” he replied, taking a slow drag of his almost burnt-out cigarette. “I'm posted at Brighton, usually.”

“And you're not on the arms of a dozen girls dancing your night away?” she teased.

He snubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and shook his head.

“Honestly, I wasn't keen on going out at all but the other gents insisted.”

“If I recall, you were quite popular on the dance floor,” she continued. “What's changed?”

“Just a bit under the weather, that's all,” he replied. “Haven't felt up to much dancing tonight, but I'll spare one for you, for old time's sake.”

She felt herself blush.

“Not yet,” she said. “I have to hear all about where you disappeared to that summer. You left a lot of us wondering why one of our dashing debs up and left London at the height of the season.”

“It's not a particularly exciting story, but if I'm going to tell it we ought to do it over a drink.”

He beckoned to a waiter who returned shortly with two cocktails on a black lacquered tray and a serving of peach melba for each of them.

Oliver detailed how the rumours were true; he'd left London for the banal task of running the business operations for his uncle's small factory in Glasgow. A year ago, as the ferocity of the war had begun to increase, he'd enlisted in Royal Navy and left the factory in the hands of the old foreman and his cousin, a savvy young woman named Rose.

More than once during the story he'd paused momentarily to clear his throat with a cough or take a sip of his cocktail to revive his waining voice. Kat felt a pang of sympathy now that she was close and could see clearly the weariness in his face. Though it was spring, the weather had been dreadful and frigid for weeks and many people she knew had been battling heavy colds.

She told him about her adventures in London with Mary and Peter, and about her volunteering posting with the Women's Auxiliary Service where she worked to find temporary housing for those displaced by air raids.

When they'd finished their peach melbas and cocktails, the band struck up a lively tune and Oliver appeared to summon some energy with a broad smile aimed at Kat.

“This is the one,” he said, extending a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, trying not to let her rush of enthusiasm show too greatly.

He led her down to the dance floor and took her into his arms, leading the gentle sway as they danced among the other couples. His broad hand rested on the small of her back and Kat felt a rush of heat to her body as they touched, cheeks almost against one another. The gentle warmth of his breath tickled her neck and she was sure he was about to lean in to kiss her there.

His voice mumbled something deep and low into her ear but she couldn't discern it over the music.

“Mmm?” she replied.

“Oh Christ, sorry,” she heard him say and suddenly he was moving swiftly away from her, his one hand leaving her back and his other dropping its grip from hers.

Eh-TSGHT! He turned his face into the sleeve of his officer's uniform, sneezing inaudibly to her as the rest of the dance floor continued their rhythmic sway.

“So sorry,” he shouted, leaning back so she could hear him. He reached into his pants pocket for a handkerchief, which he dabbled briefly under his nose.

“Sorry,” he repeated as he took up his embrace once more.

“It's okay,” she said into his ear. “I hope you don't feel too poorly.”

“No,” he said into hers, his lips almost brushing against her. “Better now.”

She leaned herself closer against him and he pressed his lips to her neck. She sighed with delight, feeling all the rush of emotions that she'd had when they'd first danced. His body was more muscular and square now, without the lanky lines he'd had as an eighteen year old.

Tilting her head upwards, she met his lips and they kissed briefly.

He leaned over to speak into her ear again.

“I hope I'm not catching.”

“I don't care,” she said and captured his lips again. The kiss deepened and a couple nearby sided away to give them a moment of privacy.

The song ended and Katherine stayed in the embrace of Oliver's arms as the next began.

He looked down at her with a soft, tired expression.

“I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid all this noise and such is too much for me tonight.”

“Can you stay up a little longer?” she asked. “There's a nice restaurant not too far from here. We could go and have a drink there and talk. It's much quieter.”

It was past midnight now and while Oliver looked like he might consider declining in favour of being tucked up in bed, he nodded and smiled.

She grinned back at him and kissed his cheek.

“I'm so glad. I'll find my friends to tell them I'm off. Meet me by the doors? Would you be a dear and get my coat for me?”

She fished the small coatcheck tag from her handbag.

After she'd shouted her goodbyes to Mary and Peter (who looked very cozy together on the dance floor, she noted with pleasure), she found Oliver leaning against a wall by the exit with her coat over his arm and his own Navy-issued wool peacoat already on. He held up her coat to help her into it and offered his arm to her, walking at her side out into the cool spring night.

The air was clear and crisp, with a half-moon overhead. The streets were brutally dark thanks to the blackout and they made their way clumsily along the road, squinting to see landmarks in the dim moonlight.

“It's down to the left, one more block,” she said as they passed the entrance to another dance club where the only light came from several cigarettes that glowed as young people poured in and out from the doors and slipped behind blackout curtains into the well-lit hall.

“Can we pause a moment,” Oliver asked. “Sorry, just a moment.”

She stopped, turning to look at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated, reaching for his handkerchief. She could see him silhouetted in the dim moonlight as his shoulders trembled and he shook his head for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he pitched forward with a wrenching sneeze.

Hurhhh-TSGHXTT!

Unable to mask the sound, he gave a brief but noisy blow into the handkerchief afterwards before hastily tucking it into his coat pocket.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, taking her arm up again. She gave him a light squeeze, leaning against his side as she did so.

“Don't apologize,” she said. “I'm only sorry to hear you so poorly. Blasted cold seems to be going around everywhere.”

“The boys in my unit said that if I can't spend a night out with a head cold, there's no way I'd last through a month at sea battling the Germans,” said Oliver, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat with a cough. “I suppose that's true.”

“Well, we'll find you something warm to drink at the restaurant and that should revive you,” Kat said cheerfully.

They were just rounding the last corner onto the street where the restaurant was located when a sound split the air. The wail of the air raid sirens began their raised pitch, increasing to a loud din of pulsing noise.

They paused in the street, stunned. It shouldn't have been entirely a surprise; the sirens were a regular occurrence in the city but neither one of them had encountered the alert while out on the street.

In the darkness, a voice shouted authoritatively.

“To your shelters, please! Nearest public shelter is the Piccadilly Circus station. To your shelters please!”

The figure of an air raid warden with a metal helmet on passed by.

“Which way is Piccadilly?” Oliver asked.

Kat glanced up and down the dark street.

“My rooms are only two or so more blocks past here,” she said. “If we hurry, we should be fine. There's a cellar in the back.”

Gripping his arm tightly, she led the way down the road. Several times they nearly collided with others making their way to safety. As they neared the house where she rented lodgings, the sky began to shine with searchlights and in the distance, the sound of anti-aircraft guns began to crackle. The bliss of dancing and the haze of champagne cleared from Kat's head as she steered them down an alley between some homes and to a metal hatch that covered the entrance to the cellar. She tugged it open and hovered a foot over the void, finding the top step.

“Six steps down. Pull the door shut behind you,” she said to Oliver. Her hand trailed along the earthen edge of the wall until it met the edge of a candlestick and a pack of matches. She struck one alight as Oliver shut the hatch with a loud bang.

The tiny chamber glowed in the candlelight, illuminating the stone and soil room. Oliver was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. Katherine tipped the lit candle to light others, gradually brightening the room enough to see without too much strain.

“Sit,” she insisted, gesturing to a small crate topped with a cushion. “Catch your breath. I'll put some tea on.”

Hhh-TSGHHH!

The sound of the sneeze startled her and she looked over in time to see Oliver building up to a second. He tipped forward, nose nestling into the folds of his waiting handkerchief.

Ehhh—hhehhTSXHHT! “Bless you!” she said earnestly. “Are you warm enough? There's plenty of blankets. My landlady, Mrs. Beecher, is up north visiting her sister and the other girl who rents rooms is at her family home for the week. So it's just you and me here unless we get some surprise guests from next door.”

“No, I'm fine,” he said quietly, wiping his nose. “Sorry.”

“I don't mind a bit of sniffling,” she said teasingly. “You don't need to keep apologizing.”

“Have you had to spend many nights down here?” he asked, surveying the cellar. It was appointed with provisions for the three woman who lived above plus extras for any visitors who might end up sheltering there. Two wooden bunks were stacked against one wall, each with pillows and blankets and thin mattresses. Another mattress was rolled and stored in a nearby trunk with additional linens. A small table held a kettle on a fuel-powered heater and several teacups. There was a deck of cards, a basket of knitting, and a lidded chamberpot. Someone had cheekily hung a framed piece of embroidery that read “Home Sweet Home.”

“Oh, I've lost count,” Kat said as she set the kettle to boil once she'd filled it with water from one of the three large canteens by the steps that led outside. “This is only the second time I've ended up down here in an evening gown, though.”

Once the kettle was heating, she opened a chest and took out a wool jumper and a pair of socks.

“Good thing I'm prepared,” she added.

Oliver watched as she sat on a wooden chair and unstrapped her high heel shoes and slid her hand up under her gown to unclip her precious nylon stockings. Careful not to snag them, she rolled them down her legs and pulled on the socks.

He laughed as she put the jumper on over her evening gown, put her coat back on top of that, and donned a pair of Wellington rubber boots. She struck a pose for him.

“You'd be the toast of all the fashion magazines,” he declared.

His chuckle turned to a cough that sounded strained and painful. She frowned at him and shook her head.

“I'd say you should've followed your own ideas and stayed home instead of the advice of your mates,” she said. “But I have to admit I've awfully glad I ran into you.”

He recovered from the coughing spell and looked at her with affection.

“I'm glad too,” he said. She poured the hot water from the kettle into a teapot to steep and selected two teacups.

Outside, the din of the air raid sirens had ended. There was the sound of distant explosions, but for the time being they were far from the action.

“I'm afraid I've no milk to offer but we have a bit of honey.”

“That'd be lovely, thanks,” he said.

She poured them each a cup and sat opposite him, savouring the warm tea. He drank his own cup, clearly soothed by the hot liquid. He dabbed at his nose a few times with his handkerchief as it began to run from the warmth.

When the cups were empty, they sat in silence for a moment. A bomb exploded somewhere a few blocks away and the candles flickered as the shockwave trembled through the earth. The remaining teacups on the table rattled against each other. Kat closed her eyes for a moment, sighing.

“Are you frightened?” Oliver asked.

“No, I don't think so,” she said. “I suppose I always am, a little. But not terribly.”

She set her teacup down on the table and moved to sit on the bottom bunk bed, patting the mattress beside her. He stood and moved to her side. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, his hands were in her hair and she had a hand on his chest. She kicked off the boots and pulled up her dress so she could sit astride his lap. He kissed down her neck and tugged her coat off, his hand going under her jumper and stroking her breasts through the silk of her gown.

She exhaled with pleasure, starting to slowly grind against his hips. She reached for the waistband of his trousers and he helped her with his belt. He made a soft moaning noise as she fumbled with the buttons at his fly and found her way downwards. His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing kisses where the neck of her jumper was stretched to the side. A brief cough escaped him, puffing against her skin. He muttered an apology and she murmured a sweet assurance as she began to stroke him.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly. He pulled her arms upwards and guided the jumper off over her head. She pushed his coat off him and made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, tugging that off too. He urgently shed his shoes and trousers as she stood and slipped off the silk gown revealing a satin bra and knickers with mother-of-pearl buttons.

He watched her hungrily as she slid out of the knickers and climbed back onto the mattress, guiding his pants off his hips. They kissed tenderly and she settled down on top of him, hips rising to meet hips. He made that same low moaning noise and she felt her body jolt with pleasure, hands roaming through his chestnut curls.

He made love to her urgently as the sound of bombs echoed outside. They moved together, breath increasing to gasps. His nose was running freely and he briefly sniffled and pressed it against his own shoulder to rub it. She kissed his neck and felt the expanse of his chest press against hers as he took a sharp breath. His body shuddered under her as he sneezed a restrained outburst, clearly trying to keep the explosion minimal.

Ngh-GHXT!

She moaned involuntarily as the spasm thrust him against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Sorry.”

“Please,” she gasped. “Oliver!”

He sniffled thickly and then resumed with vigour until they both lay panting and shivering on the bed. He looked utterly exhausted but there was a smile on his lips. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“You sweet thing,” she whispered. “As if you weren't exhausted at the start of the evening.”

She slipped out of the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and found his shirt and socks and underthings on the ground.

“Best put at least your socks on before you drop off entirely,” she said tenderly, helping him dress before they both slipped under the quilts again.

She woke at some ungodly hour to the sound of nose-blowing and the roar of the 'all clear' siren. From feel, she could tell Ollie was sitting up in bed, straining to clear his nose with his sodden handkerchief. It was pitch black in the shelter and she had no idea how long they'd been asleep.

She managed to find the matches and lit a candle. Oliver sounded dreadfully congested and by the dim light of the single candle, she could see his nose was red and angry-looking at the edges.

“Oh, love,” she said, leaving the candle on the bedside table and climbing back under the quilts next to him. “How do you feel?”

He exhaled noisily.

“Rather poorly, I'm afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I hope for your sake it's not catching.”

She squinted at the wristwatch she kept wrapped on the bedpost. It was half-past four.

“It's still early but there's the all-clear. Do you want to get rugged up in my bed upstairs or stay here.”

He folded the handkerchief and tucked it at his side, snuggling back down beside her.

“That answers that,” she said, tucking his head against her breast. She stroked his hair and planted a kiss there. “Try to get some more rest, darling. I'll take good care of you.”

#dustyfic #snzfic

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flufflepuffle296 · 4 years

Text

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

#lila salt #adrien salt #class salt #marinette deserves better #alya salt #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #chloe sugar #kagami tsurugi #sabrina raincomprix #heathers au #beautiful heathers #songfic

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twistedtummies2 · 3 years

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Giants in the Sky - Part 1

As I promised, here - at long, long last - is a story based on “My Hero Academia!” This is actually an AU story I came up with, intending it as a trade with another person (who shall remain anonymous). That person found their schedule was way too busy, and as time went on, I decided it might be best to just give this AU a try myself. So here I am to do so! As I said, originally this was going to be a two-parter, but I decided to change it into two separate stories, and each story itself will be two parts...effectively making this a four-parter. (Get it? Got it. Good.) I’m going to begin work on the second story hopefully this week, but in the meantime, here’s the first tale. Part one goes up today, part two shall be up tomorrow. This first part is primarily exposition/plot-based; the “fun stuff” comes in the next half, and trust me, there’s PLENTY of it. >:)

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Once Upon a Time, in a Kingdom Far, Far Away… The Green Knight smiled, his armor shining like emeralds as he stepped out into the sunlight. He walked out with pride – a young man whose freckled face and wild, dark green hair belied his bravery and chivalry. He held his helmet under one arm, the other gripping his sword, as he stared down at the crowd of people below him. His heart swelled and he nearly felt like crying as he heard them all cheering his name…then came the voice of the King himself, echoing in his ears and making his pulses sing with joy. “All Hail Sir Midoriya of Shi-Tan! The Greatest Warrior in All of Ua! A True Hero!” The crowd cheered louder. The Green Knight closed his eyes and sighed, warmth fluttering in his heart. In truth, the adulation was just a bonus: as he heard the voices calling up his name, he knew he had helped them all. He had saved many lives by slaying the terrible Dragon of Belfast, and now they could sleep peacefully – be they peasant or nobleman – without fear of danger and destruction. Every single voice…every single life…they’d all be happy and secure. That was what truly mattered…but the recognition was nice. He felt…like he finally belonged. Like he was where he was always meant to be; where he’d wanted to be for his entire short, young life. So many years of struggle and toil…and now, here he was, his praises being sung across the empire. He whispered the words he’d heard to himself, dreamily, as he felt the warm Sun upon his youthful face: “A True Hero…” “OI! MIDORIYA!” “YAH!” Izuku Midoriya’s eyes jolted open and he jumped about a foot in the air. He gasped and panted, looking around himself in alarm, a glimmer of confusion in his wide, bright green eyes. The Castle and its courtyard had disappeared. He found himself in a wide, brown field; to one side of the field, not so far away, was the edge of the forest; just over the tops of the trees, he could see the distant, glittering, pearly shine of the Castle he’d been daydreaming about. To the other side was the farm where he worked. He looked down at himself, and sighed somewhat dismally; his beautiful green armor had been replaced with a peasant’s tunic of green, along with a dull red vest and matching shoes, his green trousers held in place by a white rope belt. Before him was the plough he had been working, pulled by a dull-eyed donkey, which swished its tail lazily as it looked back at him, serene patience in its half-lidded eyes. Midoriya smiled bashfully at the plough animal. “Sorry, Mineta,” he said to the donkey, scratching the back of his head. “I got distracted I guess…” “You do that too often.”

Midoriya blinked and froze. “…Did you just talk?” he asked the donkey. The donkey snorted, and then the voice came again… “No, you little fool. It was me. The one who pays you and gives you a home, remember?” WHAPP! Midoriya yelped and turned around as a light but firm swat bapped him upside the head. He timidly looked up and chuckled nervously at the figure who had smacked him. “Oh…uh…s-sorry, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa was a tall, thin man. His black hair was long and frequently unkempt, his unshaven face abnormally pale. Between these features and his seemingly permanently bloodshot eyes, Midoriya often worried the head farmer would flop over from lack of sleep. “What do you expect?” the farmer would say, when the youth addressed him about the issue. “I have to deal with you and that other rambunctious kid every day, ANYONE would lose sleep.” Aizawa frowned, and Midoriya flinched back; there was always such a dangerous, smoldering look in the older farmer’s eyes when he was irate…which was quite often. The irises could go from hollow and almost lifeless to sharp as daggers or hot as scorching flames in an instant. He wore dark clothes that were a little nicer than Midoriya’s, but not by much; with a grunt, he jabbed a thumb towards the cattle pen on the premises. “Kaminari’s having trouble with Milky White,” Aizawa grumbled. “One of you can finish ploughing later. Right now, put Mineta away and then go help him out.” Midoriya’s smile became less nervous, and he nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir,” he said, and set about undoing the plough and bringing Mineta with him by the halter to the barn where the donkey slept. Aizawa’s farm produced three things: a great abundance of poultry, with the chickens being sold to market at regular intervals, and of course the wheat in the fields…and milk. The milk all came from a single cow: an old heifer appropriately named Milky White. The name not only came from the cow’s appearance – with short, coarse hair of purest, snowy white all over her body, not a speckle of brown or black to be found beyond her huge, doe-like eyes – but for the product she put forth. Far and wide, across the Kingdom of Ua, the milk was considered to be the whitest dairy anybody had ever seen. It fetched quite a handsome price at market, far more than the chickens or the wheat ever did, and allowed the trio who dwelled on the farm to get by well enough. Midoriya had lived on the farm most of his life; he and Kaminari were orphans who had met on the streets and befriended each other. One day, many moons ago – the two were scarcely older than seven – Kaminari had suggested breaking into the home of the farmer who lived alone at the edge of the woods: Shota Aizawa. Midoriya had been hesitant, and to this day, Kaminari claimed it was his hesitant nature that got them caught (though Midoriya was fairly sure it was more likely how much noise Kaminari made while they were breaking in). Instead of turning them into the authorities – the Kingdom was not kind to thieves – Aizawa had decided the two would work on his farm for a while to “pay their debt.” That was how it had started…but after some time, the farm became like home, and the pair just…stayed there. Aizawa never seriously complained. The keyword being seriously. He ALWAYS complained. In the years he’d spent on the farm, Midoriya had developed a much closer relation to Milky White than Kaminari. After putting Mineta away, the young man with green hair trotted to the cattle pen; Milky White quietly grazed on a big trough full of barley. Beside her was a battered wooden stool, and seated on the stool was another young man – sharp-featured and with unusual, amber-colored eyes – his messy blonde hair swept away from his face. He was glaring and grinding his teeth with frustration, trying to squeeze milk out of the cow’s udders. “Rrrrgh…it’s no good!” he snapped as Midoriya stepped through the gate into the pen. He threw up his hands in defeat as he continued: “I can never get her to give me anything! It’s like she clams up!” Midoriya chuckled; his blonde friend pouted childishly. “You’re always either too rough or too gentle,” he said, patting Kaminari’s shoulder, then smiled helpfully. “Let me try: she should give me something.” Kaminari sighed and nodded in supplication, then got up from the milking stool. Midoriya sat down and gently stroked Milky White’s side. The cow let out a pleased moo, and he then began to try and milk the creature. However, after several tries, his smile faded. He was doing everything the way he always did, yet absolutely nothing was coming out. “Hey…what’s wrong, old girl?” he asked softly, patting the cow’s side. Milky White’s rather sleepy-looking eyes looked towards him and she blinked slowly. “Huh? You’re having trouble, too?” Kaminari asked, kneeling down; he’d been watching to try and figure out what he’d been doing wrong. The blonde frowned; Midoriya had NEVER failed to get milk before. “Yeah,” the green-haired boy nodded, and a worried expression crossed his face. “The past two weeks, she’s been giving less and less…maybe it’s something we’ve been feeding her?” “Impossible!” Kaminari insisted with a shake of his head. “We haven’t ever once changed her diet!” “Something wrong?” The two looked to see Aizawa leaning against the gate; he looked so tired, one swore the gate was all that was keeping him up. “She’s not milking,” Kaminari answered, gesturing to Milky White. Aizawa frowned, looking concerned and confused. He looked toward Midoriya…and tilted his head. The young man’s eyes were steadily moving between the udders and the bucket, an intense look of concentration on his face. His hand rubbed at his chin as he mumbled and muttered unintelligibly to himself. The head farmer and the blonde stable lad shared a look, then looked back to the other boy. “Oi,” Aizawa called out. “Izuku…kid, what do you think’s up?” Midoriya jumped and yelped, pulled out of thought again. He sighed with relief, and rubbed one arm. “Well…I-I was just thinking, Milky White is a pretty old cow,” he said slowly. A pause. “…And?” Kaminari pressed, while Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Oh! Um…well…I hate to say it, but maybe she’s just gotten to an age, finally, where she…can’t give milk anymore,” he shrugged. “It would explain why it’s been harder to manage her and why we’ve been getting less and less.” Milky White let out another moo, looking offended at the implications she was so old. Midoriya smiled and patted her side reassuringly. “I think you may be right,” Aizawa nodded, and sighed wearily. “Well…in that case, there’s only one thing to do.” “Um…make apple strudel?” Both Midoriya and Aizawa stared a Kaminari, who was smiling a dopey, chipper smile. “…No,” Aizawa answered slowly, then paused before elaborating simply: “We have to sell the cow.” “Sell her?!” gasped Midoriya, while Milky White’s own eyes widened in surprise, and she let out another moo that sounded quite alarmed. “Do we…d-do we really HAVE to?” “Yes,” Aizawa responded bluntly. “I don’t have the money to keep a cow on the farm that doesn’t put anything out. At least if we sell her, we’ll be able to make some money off her one last time; hopefully enough to buy another cow.” “But their milk won’t be nearly as good as hers!” protested Midoriya. “Probably not, but if she’s not giving ANY milk, that doesn’t make much difference, does it?” Izuku felt that couldn’t easily be denied, and bit his lip. “Don’t we have any other options?” Kaminari asked, noting the conflict on his friend’s face. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Well, you could slaughter her yourselves, yeah.” The boys looked VERY ill, and Milky White was visibly shaking. “Yeeeeaaaah…I-I’mma pass on that,” shuddered Kaminari. “Then it’s settled,” Aizawa sniffed. “At least if she’s sold, she might be able to be a pet instead of someone’s dinner,” murmured Midoriya, rather sadly. Aizawa decided it wasn’t worth telling the rather forlorn-looking boy how unlikely that was. “Who’ll be in charge of giving her away?” Kaminari asked, while Midoriya petted the cow’s side gently. “I have some work I still need to do of my own,” Aizawa said, and pointed to Izuku. “Midoriya, you’ll take Milky White to market.” “M-Me?!” squeaked out Izuku, eyes wide. “Hey! Why not me?!” huffed Kaminari. “I haven’t been to market in ages!” “There’s a reason for that,” droned Aizawa, giving the blonde a withering stare. “The last time I sent you into town, I asked you to buy a dozen apples. You came back with two dozen pears.” “Hey, in my defense, they do taste sort of similar, AND you got more than-” “And the time before that,” Aizawa pressed on, “I sent you into town to buy some meat, and you came back with cheese! MOLDY cheese!” “I…well, um…uh…” “And the time before THAT,” Aizawa nearly growled, “I sent you to buy some milk…and you came back covered in lipstick marks, babbling about some cute blonde who traded your money for PERFUME.” Silence. Kaminari flushed, lowered his head, and kicked at the ground. “…She c-called me handsome…” Midoriya closed his eyes and shook his head, while Aizawa sighed and slapped a hand over his face. He mumbled something about being cursed into his palm, then looked back to Midoriya. “This will be your first time in the market, at least for my sake,” he said, somewhat warningly. “Please, DON’T make the same mistakes Kaminari has made.” “I won’t,” Midoriya promised, and stood up from the stool. “How soon do I leave?” “At once. Get the halter and I’ll tell you how much to ask for her, and give you further instructions…”

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“No less than five pounds, no less than five pounds…”

Izuku Midoriya – a red cap perched upon his head – muttered the mantra to himself over and over again under his breath, as he led Milky White along a crooked, broken road. The route to market passed through the forest that surrounded the farm. It had been a very long time since Midoriya had set foot on the road, and he idly wondered if anyone in town would recognize him in the least as one of the two waifs that had rambunctiously lived about the streets. Milky White let out a sad moo; Midoriya smiled kindly and paused to pat the bovine’s snout. “I know, old girl, but don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’ll make sure you get a good home, if I can. I promise.” He thought the cow smiled faintly, but he wasn’t sure. The boy continued on his path, carefully looking from left to right; he road he was taking had curves, but no forks or other paths. It was a more or less straight shot to the marketplace from here. He still had a long ways to go, however, and the forest seemed to grow denser around him, the branches of the trees twining together as their tops swayed slightly with the breeze. He had often thought the woods could be frightening, but in truth, the forest was very beautiful; the green leaves seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that shimmered between them, and he could hear birds chirping overhead. As Midoriya walked, he soon came to a patch of forest thinner than the rest; through a gap in the trees, he looked up and saw the sky. Two huge, white, puffy clouds painted the blissful blue backdrop. A sweet, vacant, daydreaming smile came over the wandering urchin’s face. In his mind’s eye, one cloud looked like a knight preparing to duel a frightful monster, represented by the other cloud. He was so lost in his daydreams, that he failed to hear Milky White’s warning bellow. And a moment later… WHUMP! “Oof!” “Ach!” Izuku thudded into something – or, rather, someone – and stumbled back clumsily before landing on his bunce with a grunt. He heard the other person fall in the same manner. “Ow,” Midoriya mumbled, massaging his sore backside for a moment before climbing up onto his feet and moving towards the other person, apologizing hastily. “I-I’m so sorry!” Izuku pleaded, extending a helping hand. “I should have watched where I was going, I just-” “It’s okay, it’s okay, stop apologizing,” the other fellow said, and stood up brushing himself off. Midoriya stepped back, withdrawing his arm and looking over the man: he was tall and exceedingly lank, with a bony face and deeply-sunken blue eyes that gave him an overall almost skeletal appearance. A huge head of wavy blonde hair adorned his scalp, and he was dressed in what appeared to be a nobleman’s coat: gold in color, with black pinstripes. Midoriya gulped nervously, eyes widening as he took in the strange man’s appearance, nearly quivering. The Mysterious Man was clearly of noble blood; would the gentleman be angry with him? He really didn’t need any trouble, he just wanted to get to the market soon… “I’m…I d-didn’t mean to bump into you, sir,” he peeped timidly, and the man – who was dusting off his coat – raised an eyebrow in his direction. “If, um…if there’s anything I can do t-to make it up to you, uh…” “Nonsense,” the Mysterious Man smiled benevolently, and gave a wink and a wide, toothy smile. “Good morning to you, Young Midoriya!” Izuku froze, mouth clapping shut. He blinked. “…Good morning to you. Uh…h-how come you know my name?” “Where are you heading this morning?” the Man asked, politely, not at all answering the question. Midoriya frowned and took a slightly suspicious step back. “I’m going to market,” he responded, lifting the part of the halter he held in emphasis. “My master’s cow here won’t milk anymore, so we’re hoping to sell her. As a pet,” he clarified, in the firmest voice he could. “Hmmm,” smirked the Mysterious Man, lifting a hand to his chin and cocking his head to one side. “I see…” A pause. “Who are you, sir?” Midoriya thought to ask. “Call me Yagi,” the Man said, simply, then smiled a bit wider. “How much are you demanding for this cow, Young Midoriya?” “No less than five pounds,” recited Izuku. Yagi frowned slightly. “Why such a sum?” “Well…um…m-my Master told me to ask for it,” Midoriya answered, honestly, and with a hint of embarrassment. “Ahhh,” nodded Yagi, then smiled anew. “And what would you say if I offered you something worth more than money?” Midoriya blinked, and looked towards Milky White, who rolled her great brown eyes up at him skeptically. He then gave Yagi an equally dubious but also keenly interested sort of look. “Such as?” Yagi smirked, and bent down, placing his hands on his knees as he was now eye-to-eye with Izuku. “Tell me, Young Midoriya…if you can…how many beans make five?” “Two in each hand, and one in your mouth!” Midoriya chirruped back, sharp as a needle, remembering the old chestnut from when he was a little boy. “Right you are!” Yagi chuckled, and tapped Midoriya on the nose. He chuckled louder as the younger man let out a childish squeak and covered his “booped” nose protectively. “And here they are now: the very beans themselves.” So saying, and with a flourish of one hand, the Mysterious Man – seemingly out of nowhere – pulled out a handful of five large, strange-looking beans: each was the size of a cashew, and each was brightly colored in different shades – red, yellow, blue, green, and pink – so that they seemed to form a little rainbow patch in the tall, thin man’s palm. “And as you are so sharp, good Midoriya,” Yagi went on, “I don’t mind offering a trade with you: how about you swap your cow…for these extraordinary, extravagant, extra-large, extra-extra-extra beans?” Midoriya looked at the colorful beans, then Yagi’s face…and frowned, scrunching his brow and looking a little confused and more than a little doubtful. “No offense, sir, but…um…why would I trade my cow for some beans?” he said, sensibly. “I mean…especially when I’ve been asked to get money. It just…doesn’t seem very wise.” “Normally, I would agree with you,” Yagi nodded, his voice equally reasonable, as he then lifted the beans a bit higher, their colors almost seeming to glisten in the sunlight that peered through the treetops. “But you haven’t got the slightest idea of what sort of beans these are. These aren’t ordinary beans: they’re MAGIC beans.” Midoriya raised an eyebrow. “Magic?” “Yes,” Yagi said. “If you plant these beans tonight – under the light of the blue moon – by morning they’ll grow into a stalk tall enough to reach the top of the blue sky itself! And not an inch less.” Midoriya’s eyes widened; now he had some interest. “Really?” “Yes, really!” Yagi grinned widely, blue eyes wide and bright. “I would stake my reputation on it!” Midoriya bit his lip…then fiddled with the halter. Milky White moved her head slowly, swinging it to watch the conversation with her own sense of dopey interest. “Again, no offense, but…I don’t know you. Sir,” Midoriya reminded the Mysterious Man. “So…what kind of reputation can I trust a stranger to have?” Yagi opened his mouth to answer…then blinked…and paused, tilting his head and looking up to the sky. “Huh,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with a long, skinny finger. “That’s reasonable enough, Young Midoriya.” Midoriya nodded and gave the halter a tug, attempting to pass. “Right. Well, thank you for your offer, sir,” he said, politely, “But I just can’t-” “Hold on, hold on!” Yagi exclaimed, with such power in his voice it made Midoriya yelp and jump back in surprise. “Let me make you a deal: the time now is…” He paused, and – with his free hand, for the other still clutched the odd beans – reached into the pocket of his nobleman’s vest, pulling out a pocket watch – both as golden as his coat – and checked it before tucking it away again. “…The time now is six o’ clock,” he reported, and then went on: “If by tomorrow, at this hour, you discover anything has happened differently, in any way at all from what I promised…then you can meet me at this exact same spot, and I’ll give you the five pounds you asked for. Now there’s something we can agree on, yeah?” Izuku still looked unconvinced. Yagi’s eyes roamed up and down the young man’s form…and he sighed before kneeling down before him. “Young Midoriya,” he whispered softly, in a voice so low and so heartfelt it caught the green-haired youth off guard. “I know we’ve only just met…and I know you haven’t got much reason at all to trust me. But I have seen the way you looked at those clouds. I know of the daydreams people say you have. Tell me something: what do you wish for, more than anything in the world?” The young man paused before answering, figuring it would do no harm: “I want to be a hero. I want…I want to help people. I want to help my village, my friends, and I…I want to BE somebody. Not just a farmer’s helper, but…someone important.” “For money or fame?” “No. Not really. I mean…those are nice, but…just knowing I did something with my life, and knowing that I helped so many other people…that’s what I really want. I want to be remembered. And I…I want to do something amazing. Something that will be worth any risk if it helps others.” Yagi’s smile widened; there was a twinkle in the thin man’s eye. “I know those dreams very well,” he said sagely, and opened his hand once more, offering the beans to the youngster again as he went on: “Take these and plant them, just as I told you. I can’t promise you what will come of them will be easy for you. I can’t promise you it will be safe. I can’t even promise you that you won’t regret it. But if you do as I say…if you take this chance I’m giving you…maybe you can be a hero.” A pause. Midoriya took a deep breath. “…Do you promise to take care of Milky White?” “I do.” “And if anything does go wrong, you do promise to pay me the five pounds?” “I’ll make it ten, if you want.” Midoriya smiled. “Then I guess there’s nothing to lose, is there?” “I wouldn’t say that,” chuckled Yagi, “But you won’t be any worse off than you are now, will you?” “That’s true,” Midoriya nodded slowly in consideration…then smiled widely, eyes lighting up. “Alright! Deal!” The bargain was executed quickly, as Yagi pulled a small leather bag out of his coat pocket. He poured the beans inside, and traded the little bag for Milky White’s halter. “Farewell, Young Midoriya,” Yagi smiled, giving a mock salute to the young man. “And a pleasure doing business with you!” “Same to you,” Midoriya smiled, adjusting his scarlet cap, and turned away, opening the bag to inspect the beans. He took a few steps away, and made sure all five were inside. Nodding to himself, he turned around again, looking up, preparing to wave goodbye… …Only to find, to his amazement, that both Yagi and Milky White had seemingly vanished into thin air. Midoriya stared at the spot where they had stood…then looked at the bag of Magic Beans…then his smile returned, and with a whoop a laugh, he pocketed the beans and ran pell-mell back down the woodland path towards the farm. He couldn’t wait to see Mr. Aizawa’s reaction!

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“YOU. LITTLE. FOOL.” With a snarl, five brightly colored, cashew-sized beans sailed out an open window in the farmhouse. Midoriya gasped and tried to grab them before they hit the ground…but it was too late. They scattered into the dirt, and must have been covered quickly, because he couldn’t see where they landed. He then whimpered and cowered as a very, VERY angry Shota Aizawa nudged him back, barring his way and glaring down at him. “Beans,” he sneered. “I’m disappointed in you, Izuku. I trusted you to make good choices. And of all things you come back with…you come back with five painted beans?” “I…b-but…but Mr. Aizawa, he said they were magic!” Aizawa’s glare didn’t shift. He just glowered, unblinkingly. Midoriya sighed and hung his head; it did sound very, very gullible, now that he thought about it. “…He…he also said…w-we could…have ten pounds…i-if it didn’t work…?” he added, hopefully, not daring to look up as he said so. “You BELIEVED him?” Midoriya remained silent. He sniffled once, and said nothing. Aizawa’s gaze softened slightly, and he pinched his brow, closing his eyes as he pointed off in another direction with one hand. “Bed,” he ordered. “Now. We’ll talk about this more in the morning. Don’t come out of your room till I tell you to. Understand?” Silence. “UNDERSTAND?!” “Y-Yes…yes, Mr. Aizawa…I’m…I-I’m sorry…” With a final sniffle, not daring to lift his head, Midoriya darted upstairs and out of the room. Aizawa sighed as he watched the young man go…then looked out the window. The sun was setting and the night was riding in fast. He shook his head despondently, grumbling to himself as he headed towards his own room.

------------------------------------------------ He needed sleep desperately…and probably a drink, as well…

Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably as he sat in his bed, which lay across from Midoriya’s in the small room they occupied each night. Midoriya was lying on his side, facing the other wall, turned away from Kaminari. He hadn’t moved a muscle for an hour or two. “Hey,” Kaminari whispered. “I, uh…I just wanted to say…it’s really not as bad as you think.” Midoriya gave no response. “I mean…you know all the dumb stuff I’ve done, yeah?” Kaminari chuckled, trying to shrug and giving an uneasy smile. “And…well…Magic Beans DO sound a lot cooler than, like…I dunno…moldy cheese, r-right?” Still no response. “…Midoriya? Are you asleep already?” No response. Kaminari sighed; he’d tried. Shaking his head sadly, he lay down in bed, and turned away to face his wall. “G’night,” he mumbled out, softly. In his own bed, Midoriya said nothing. His eyes spilled tears onto his pillow as he lay totally and completely still, curled up defensively in his bed, as if trying to coil into a ball. He hugged himself as he lay on his side, and sniffled softly before wiping his eyes on one arm. A flicker of light fell over his face, and he looked up to see the blue moon shining down. With a despairing sort of look, he lay down on his belly, face in his pillow…and after several minutes, cried himself quietly to sleep.

Neither he, nor Kaminari, nor Aizawa downstairs never noticed the way the ground not so far beyond the window shifted as the moonlight passed over it…they certainly never noticed the tiny green sprout that began to wind out of the ground as they slumbered…nor how it burst with leaves and pods as it continued to grow…

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Izuku Midoriya opened his eyes to darkness. He gazed about, trying to figure out where he was…he opened his mouth to call for his master and his friend, but no sound came out in the dark, hollow void. A disturbing, hissing noise echoed out from somewhere behind him. He turned around fast…and turned pale as a sheet as he beheld a hideous, indescribable beast: as big as a house, its whole body a mass of writhing green tentacles, like some of the great sea monsters he’d seen in storybooks! He wished for a weapon…and suddenly, he found his fingers grasping the hilt of a silver sword. He looked to the sword, then the hideous creature…then glared, and took his best battle stance, holding the sword ready, challenging the beast. The tentacles swept towards him. He jumped out of the way, hacking and slashing with the blade, chopping them into pieces…but each time he struck, two more tentacles came flying at him.! He ducked and dodged as quick as he could, whirling his blade about his head as fast as he could manage… …Then, suddenly, a tentacle grabbed his arm, and with a wrenching twist, tore the sword away! He gasped, as a tentacle then grabbed his other arm, and another green tendril lashed about his waist! Izuku watched in horror, as a fourth tentacle transformed; the end of it malformed like clay, turning into a huge, green, fang-filled maw. The hideous monster licked its lips…and with a roar, the maw came careening towards him, ready to swallow him whole! “AAAAGH!” Midoriya jolted, pushing himself upright in bed…then, he settled, and panted, flopping down again with a groan as he realized he’d been having a nightmare… …One can thus imagine his reaction when he rolled onto his back in bed…to find what looked like a huge horde of green, curling tendrils pushing through the bedroom window. “YIPE!” With a shrill, almost comical yelp, Midoriya flailed and fell out of bed with a thud. He froze, as he heard Kaminari – still asleep in his own bed – groan and grumble something about “pretty girls” in his slumber. For several moments, Midoriya didn’t move…then, he scrubbed at his eyes, and took a better look at the” tendrils” poking through the window. He had quite forgotten, in his alarm, what had happened the day before. He found that the whole room had a vague, greenish hue cast over it, and the source was soon clear. His eyes widened, amazed, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of action. In a flash, he threw on his green tunic, red shoes, vest, and cap, and fastened his white rope belt before creeping downstairs quickly but quietly, not wishing to wake Aizawa or Kaminari. He stepped out of his house, and craned his neck upwards, barely able to believe his own eyes: there, in all of its splendor, rooted not more than a couple yards away from the house…was a GIGANTIC beanstalk, such as there has never been in the history of any world! It was thicker than any tree in the forest; it stretched high, up and up and up – he couldn’t see the end of it! At length, Midoriya realized that it was stretching far, far out of sight, piercing the blue sky itself! “Just as Yagi said,” he breathed, and began to quiver, a smile slowly forming on his face as his eyes danced with delight. He hadn’t been tricked! He hadn’t been fooled! The beans WERE magic! Almost without thinking, Midoriya darted forward, and grabbed hold of the two lowest branches of the spiralling beanstalk. He paused for a moment…took a deep breath…and then began to climb. He climbed till he could see through his window into Kaminari’s room…he climbed till he could jump down and hop onto the roof, if he wished…he climbed till he could look down and see the whole farm in all its vastness. He climbed, and climbed, and climbed; he had no thought in his head to keep climbing. His arms and legs seemed to be working without his will guiding him, hauling him up, up, up! He thought he would have run out of breath, one way or another, yet somehow he STILL climbed! He could see the tops of the trees, he could see birds – who looked VERY befuddled – flit past. He could see the crest of the Sun as it rose in the East, just beyond the pearly castle of Ua. Higher and higher Midoriya went, never once considering how in the world he was going to get down again safely. His heart was pounding with unparalleled excitement; even just climbing the beanstalk was an adventure in itself! Each time he looked down, he felt no fear, but an overwhelming sense of freedom and awe; seeing how small and yet how vast the world was, all at the same time, the more height he gained. Up, up, up… …Till, finally…as he reached…his fingers brushed what felt like fine, powdery sand. It was as if he were at the entrance of a well, a sea of white just beyond his reach. He reached further…and realized the beanstalk had come to an end. For the briefest of moments, panic entered his heart, as he now realized the harrowing knowledge he would have to climb back down, and that would be much harder than going up…but then, he remembered the sand, and – taking a risk – he heaved himself up daringly and held his breath… …As he popped through the whole in the sky…and found himself standing on solid ground. He had reached the point where the sky itself came to an end. A world above the clouds. Midoriya stared around in awe, stumbling forward, too thunderstruck to speak as his jaw dropped and he took in the sights around him. Ahead of him stretched a long, wide road of blue, powdery earth. ENORMOUS trees – taller than any he had ever seen – stood before him: their trunks were silver, and their leaves were a pale, sugary white. The sky itself was a pale, unusual violet hue, with streaks of orange passing through it – the colors of sunset, but without the steady shift. That was just the color, all the time, he wagered. The air was uncannily still; a few times on the climb up, he’d had to pause to hold onto his cap, to keep his hat from being blown miles out of his grasp. Now, though…there was no wind at all. “Whoa,” he murmured to himself, unable to say anything else as he began to walk down the road, staring and staring at the peculiar new plane he had discovered. His heartbeat only continued to quicken; this was the most spectacular thing he’d ever experienced. GRRRLLLB… “Ah-ah!” Izuku winced sharply, scrunching his eyes shut as he paused in his walk, and clutched his stomach…then sighed as he rubbed it gently. “Right…didn’t eat breakfast this morning…or supper last night, for that matter,” he muttered, a little sourly. His stomach whined again, and he bit his lip; it actually felt quite painful, the hunger pangs scraping against his gut lining. He looked around, his mind leaving the sense of wild adventure in favor of the more practical desire for food. Another world or not, he figured there had to be SOMETHING to eat around here! Sure enough, his green eyes soon spotted something: a white bush, covered in dark purple berries, not unlike grapes. Curious, Midoriya approached the bush; the bush alone was TREMENDOUS, about the size of the toolshed back on the farm. Carefully. He reached out and plucked one of the grape-like fruits off the branches; they were the size of footballs. Midoriya sniffed at the berry; it smelled sweet, and he smiled before taking a bite…only to gag and sputter, spitting out chunks of the stuff as he dropped the berry and rapidly scrubbed at his tongue. “Ugh!” he choked. “It…it smells nice, but…it TASTES like frog skins! O-Or rotten fish!” His stomach whined, pleading for something. He sighed again, and rubbed it, mouth starting to water with hunger as he lurched onward, desperately looking around for something to eat as he left the foul-tasting berry bush behind. Whatever THOSE berries were, he could survive without them…they were probably toxic, anyway, given that flavor! On Midoriya traveled, and louder his stomach growled. Everything around him was larger than he was used to; he’d ducked when a huge shadow, which he thought was an eagle, flew past his head…and nearly thought he’d faint when he realized it was a black-and-blue-colored butterfly, drinking from a pink flower the size of a small tree. He shook his head and continued forward, hoping he might find some breakfast soon… …And then…he froze. What looked like a gray wooden bridge was stretched across a black river, which sparkled like a starry night sky. And on the other side of the bridge was a giant house; it was not as poor as the old farmhouse, nor as splendid as a nobleman’s manor…somewhere in the middle, Midoriya guessed. Despite this middling state of obvious expense, the place was bigger than any house he’d seen…except maybe one… “It’s as big as a Castle,” he breathed…and with a light shake of his head, he hustled forward towards the building, almost desperately. A place that big was bound to be home to some kind of adventure…and if he was lucky, he thought, adjusting his white belt, maybe it was home to some food, as well. Midoriya dashed across the bridge, till he came to the door of the big house. There was no hope of reaching the doorknob, and some sixth sense told Midoriya that knocking would not only be likely fruitless, but potentially dangerous: whoever lived here was clearly no ordinary person. His mind started to race, wondering what COULD live in this house above the sky: a demon? A dragon? A clown? Hey, clowns were creepy. Whatever the case, Izuku’s hunger had quite a grip on him, as did his curiosity; he wasn’t turning back now. He soon noticed there was a gap under the door – he guessed big enough for a mouse to wriggle under. It was telling of how small he was compared to everything else that Izuku was able to wiggle through this gap, and soon found himself standing inside the enormous house. The interior of the giant building matched the exterior: it was neither especially poor-looking, nor particularly grand. The overall style reminded Izuku of a hunting lodge: rugs that appeared to be made from animal skins covered the wooden floor, and weapons the size of boats were displayed. What looked like a cow’s skull was mounted in one spot…but the skull, as well as the skins, were far more monstrous in their dimensions than any animals of the same kind Midoriya had ever encountered. His attention was drawn away from his surroundings when a sumptuous smell caught his nose; his poor, empty belly growled, and he had to wipe some drool away from the corner of his mouth before creeping carefully in the direction of the smell. He truly did feel like a mouse right now; he had the distinct sensation of invading some larger, more physically superior creature’s territory. He had to be careful: he had no idea if the one(s) who lived here might be home. If he got caught, this adventure could be over FAR quicker than he liked. Thankfully, he didn’t get caught, as he scampered across the floor, and found his way to a warm, welcomingly-lit kitchen. He looked up, and his eyes lit up with joy; he almost squealed with glee! Eager as could be, he scurried up one of the table legs – he’d just climbed a beanstalk that reached to the sky, THIS was nothing – and hauled himself up onto the tabletop. A tremendous feast lay before him: a huge hambone, a roasted chicken, apple dumplings, a block of cheddar cheese, a half-rack of beef ribs, and a lamb stew with carrots and potatoes all sat upon the table. Not only were these six separate courses quite a substantial amount of food in general, but because everything around Izuku was at least twenty times bigger than normal, any ONE of these dishes would have been enough to feed him and his fellow farmers for a whole week. Midoriya grinned and clapped excitedly, as his mind immediately started turning: perhaps this was how he could become a hero! Some of this could bring food to the whole village, or at least be sold at market for more than enough money to help out around the farm! The question was how to carry it all back… GRRROOOUUURRRRG… He hissed and clutched his belly with both hands…and laughed weakly. “Right,” he murmured. “I, uh…I should probably NOT try thinking on an empty stomach, huh?” His tummy answered with a grumpy-sounding grumble. Midoriya patted it gently, and looked around the table…then – as if he couldn’t feel more rodent-like already – he made a beeline for the cheese. He knelt before the giant block, and licked his lips before sinking his hands into it, pulling away fistfuls of cheddar, peeling it away almost like clay. He inhaled the scent, relishing his well-earned feast, and then began to shovel the cheese into his mouth rapidly, gobbling it with almost animalistic abandon. He sighed after several mouthfuls, eyes fluttering closed as he chewed and then swallowed heavily. “GRULP! Ahhhh…this is the best cheese I’ve ever had,” he crooned, and grinned wider than ever, stomach still roaring for more as he reached for another fistful… THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP…! Midoriya froze. His ears pricked up as he heard a rhythmic, steady pounding; like some huge hammer slamming down again and again into the earth. He quickly recognized the sound to be footsteps. Very, VERY big footsteps. The sound grew louder, as whatever made the footstesps drew nearer. Midoriya turned fast and gasped as he saw a huge shadow come creeping across the wall, growing larger by the second! Thinking fast, he stuffed the last fistful of cheddar into his mouth…then, cheeks still bulging with the food, he hustled over to where he saw a salt and pepper shaker set, and ducked behind them quickly. No longer in the open, Midoriya peeked out from behind his hiding spot. His green eyes widened more than ever, terror striking his heart like a lightning bolt, as he saw the owner of the footsteps – the owner of the house – come swaggering into view. “A Giant!” The Giant stood at about fifty feet high, and the more Midoriya looked at the ogre, the more frightened he became. The titan was a handsome but imposing young man – roughly the same age as Izuku himself – with a head of spiky red hair that almost resembled flames. His eyes, too, were a shade of almost glowing scarlet, and as he yawned and stretched, Midoriya whimpered at the sight of a mouth full of razor-sharp, craggy-looking fangs. The young Giant wore a black vest lined with fluffy-looking red fur, and a pair of black leather trousers. Thick black boots were on his feet, and a long, flowing red sash was lashed about his middle The behemoth was bare-armed and bare-bodied, wearing no shirt beneath the vest; his abdomen was toned and athletic, rippling with powerful muscles, and his limbs were much the same. Between the colors, the fangs, and the overall size and demeanor of the Giant, Midoriya was trembling: he’d never met a giant, but he’d heard stories of them, and they were never very good. Giants were said to walk like men, but had appetites like devils; they would eat men, women, and children for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, often swallowing them whole. They would raid villages, devouring everyone and almost everything in sight, often never leaving till their bellies were swollen and heaving with all they had consumed. Then – despite their gargantuan masses – they would simply and suddenly disappear, with no evident explanation. To slay a giant was a feat few knights had succeeded in, and to meet a giant, for most people, was surely a death sentence. No one had ever figured out where they actually came from. It seemed Midoriya just had. Or, at least, he’d found where ONE of them came from. The scarlet-haired giant thankfully never noticed Midoriya; he smiled as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, looking over the food on the table. Izuku ducked back behind the shaker to avoid being seen. “Well…now that that’s taken care of,” the Giant mumbled, seemingly talking to its own food, “I’ve just gotta get a drink, and we’ll be ready! Don’t worry, breakfast: I’ll introduce you to my belly soon enough!” The Giant cackled and patted his muscular, trim belly in emphasis, then began to hum a jaunty tune as he strode over to another part of the kitchen. Midoriya gaped as he looked around the table for a moment. Breakfast…ALL of this…was breakfast for ONE giant?! No wonder their appetites were legendary. At least nothing here was alive…except for Midoriya himself, he realized, with a shudder. A sound of running fluid caught the youth’s attention, and he peeked out from behind the shaker. The Giant had stomped over to large barrel or keg, with a faucet stuck into it. From the spigot poured a stream of what looked and smelled like cherry cider. (Absently, Midoriya wondered how many cherries on HIS world it would take to fill a barrel of cider that big.) The Giant was smiling a happy, cheery smile as he watched the cider fill the thick clay mug he was holding… …Then, as he turned the dial to stop the flow, his mug filled…he froze. Midoriya saw the Giant frown in confusion…then, the red-eyed monster lifted his head up and began to sniff the air. His nostrils flared, becoming huge black holes as his ears pricked up, clearly alert. Midoriya internally cursed, biting his lip and ducking back behind the salt shaker as he heard the Giant approach the table again. He heard the dull “clunk” of the huge mug being put down… “Hmmmm…something smells good around here,” the Giant mumbled. “And it’s not the food…” Midoriya fought the urge to whimper, hugging himself and curling in on himself. His heart pounded with terror as he heard the ogre begin to search room; he could hear him open the larder and the cupboards…then heard the rattling of dishes as he searched the table itself, sniffing at the air all the while. “Please don’t find me,” he whispered to himself in a breathless prayer. “Oh, please don’t find me…please, please don’t find me…” The hopes were vain ones, and he knew it; the Giant could smell him, and once it found him, he had no doubt he’d a VERY intimate experience with those razor sharp teeth. Mind racing, Midoriya looked towards the edge of the table; perhaps he could make a break for it, scramble down the table leg and find a better place to hide, then head back home via the beanstalk. But then he’d be leaving empty-handed…empty-handed was better than dead, though… Just as he was measuring his options, his blood ran cold as he felt the shakers he’d been hiding behind get lifted away…and an ominous, thorny-looking shadow fell over him. He gulped nervously…and, very slowly, looked upwards towards the source of the shadow. The blood red eyes of the Giant fell upon him. The ogre tilted its head…and then grinned, showing off all of those huge, jagged teeth. “Oh! Hi, little guy!” the Giant boomed. “What are you doing here?” NOPE, was all Midoriya could think, as he leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the edge of table. “Hey, now, don’t leave in such a rush!” Midoriya squealed as a huge hand swooped down and grabbed hold of him. He froze, not daring to squirm, as for a few moments, he was wrapped up in huge fingers that felt like pythons coiled around him, pressed against a palm that was both soft and somewhat leathery in texture. He could feel gravity change around him, sensed himself being lifted higher… …Then jolted as a second hand joined the fray, cupping him gently as the fingers parted slightly, revealing a red eye about as large as he was tall. “Peek-a-boo!” sang out a voice, followed by a snigger. The fingers then parted fully, and Midoriya found himself sitting the middle of the Giant’s hands, the huge titan smiling down at him widely. “Hey there!” the Giant sang out gaily. “I’m Kirishima! Eijiro Kirishima! What’s your name, little fella?”

To Be Continued…

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Text

Bumblebees and Buttercups

Tommy knows how to get into the forest and even though it’s against the rules he can’t resist showing his friend

Hiiii I disappeared for a bit- sadly but I am back with a little snack sized fic that could probably use more polish!

This takes place in my DFF AU and here is the ao3 link!

Hope you enjoy!

A soft breeze brushed against Tommy’s skin as he pulled on his friend’s floppy, threadbare, sleeve.

“Come on! It’s not that far now!”

“Where are we even going? We’re all the way in the fourth ring!” Tubbo said, jumping over a dip in the road, Tommy had insisted on showing him a ‘very cool and important secret’ after school that day but wouldn’t explain a single thing else.

“You’ll see- now come on! You’re so slow!”

Tommy missed Tubbo’s eye roll and tried to urge him along, hoping to avoid the more dodgy areas Phil warned him about years ago.

He led them past Skeppy’s shack, past the dilapidated buildings, and towards the fence. They ended up close to the gap that Tommy had followed Techno through a few weeks earlier.

Tommy ducked behind a house, motioning dramatically for Tubbo to follow, Tommy looking for the telltale willow tree vines that hid the gap, ignoring Tubbo’s questions.

“There it is!” He started to run but skidded to a halt, cautiously checking the area, then crept forwards, waving for Tubbo to join him.

He peeled back the gangly green vines and looked to Tubbo for a reaction.

“What- what is this?”

“The forest outside the rings!”

“Well obviously- how did you find it?”

“That’s not important,” Tommy grinned, “What is important is that we have access to the outside world.”

“What are we even gonna do with this?”

“Well- I don’t know- it’s- it’s cool! It’s just cool-” He paused, “Not like you would get cool.”

Tubbo nodded, taking a step closer to the fence, “What do you think is out there?”

“Nothing we can’t handle! Come on- it’ll be fun! We can do anything we want!” And without waiting for a response Tommy marched in, Tubbo sighed before trailing behind.

The edge of the forest looked worse than the last time Tommy had seen it, more litter was scattered in the foliage and trees, the thickets were sharper and pulled at already thin clothing and pricked his skin but that didn’t stop him.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Of course! I’ve been here loads of times!” Tommy jabbed a thumb at his own chest proudly.

“How many times?”

“Uh- too many to count!” Tommy stammered, scrambling over a mossy log, intentionally crunching on the leaves. “Just know that I am a professional!”

Tubbo snorted, optioning to crouch under the log instead.

They continued deeper into the woods, soft sunlight dappling through the canopy of leaves, emerald green grass brushing against their ankles, the chittering of nearby animals filled their ears.

“Do you think there are bees in here?”

“Of course- there have to be!”

“I’d like to see them- I’ve only seen a few in the rings…”

“Hell yeah! Let’s go find us some bees! There are probably some close by!”

The pair bounced through the woods, crossing little creeks and streams, hopping from rock to rock and trying to swing on the low hanging weak vines on the trees.

Tommy had tried a particularly weak one, slipped, and landed flat on his back.

They happened upon a little flower patch, immediately taking notice of the buzzing coming from the vibrant flowers, a few yellow specks fluttering about.

Tommy watched as Tubbo crouched down and inched closer, biting his lip to stop from laughing.

“Ya know Tubbo- I don’t really get why you like those things.”

“I don’t know why either, I just think they’re neat, come and watch them.”

“No- that sounds boring.” Tommy said as he shuffled closer to Tubbo, who was poking tentatively at the bees. “Moths are better.”

“No they’re not,”

“Yes they are!”

“If they are so much better then where are they?”

“They-they’re not out right now- because-” Tommy trailed off briefly.

“‘Cause they’d get eaten.” Tubbo filled in nonchalantly, not bothering to look up.

Tommy shrieked, “Aw no! That’s sick- that’s so sick! You’re so twisted!”

“I’m not twisted- that’s just how nature works-”

“Nature is stupid!”

“You’re stupid-”

They bickered back and forth for a moment before the argument dissolved and they sat in a not awkward but not comfortable silence.

Tubbo broke it, rubbing a soft yellow flower petal between his fingers, “I wonder what type of flower this is- the bees seem to really like it.”

Tommy looked up, briefly stopping from pulling up grass, “They’re buttercups.” He said simply.

“You answered that fast.” Tubbo teased, watching Tommy’s head shoot up.

“Well- well yeah! Because I’m so smart I just know these things!”

Tubbo laughed, plucking a bee free buttercup from the ground and laying it across Tommy’s busted up shoes.

“Sure big man.”

In turn Tommy took it and tried to weave it between the laces, after he mangled the steam just enough to get it to stay he picked a buttercup of his own and stuck it in a free button gap on Tubbo’s shirt.

They grinned at each for a moment before Tommy cleared his throat and looked over at the bees, “Hm, they aren’t so bad.”

“They’re great- at least they actually do things for the environment- unlike moths!”

“I’m tired of your shit! Moths are great and it’s not my fault that you’re too stupid to see that!”

The banter continued until they heard the bushes rustle and froze, it was too strong and too loud for it to be a small animal. Tommy put up a hand and crept forwards, taking care to not step on anything that could alert the thing of his presence.

He stood on his tiptoes and looked out to see something slinking forwards, hissing softly, not in his direction, it almost blended in with forest as it.

He wasn’t able to recognize it but knew it was bad news, just looking at the monster’s bend form sent sharp shivers down his back.

Tommy let out a shaky breath and took a step back, he had heard Techno say there were monsters in the forest before but he thought Techno was just trying to scare him.

He tried to rationalize to himself, it was fine, the monster didn’t even know he was there, they just had to sneak away- which was totally doable!

Tommy took a one cautious step backwards, still keeping his eyes locked on the monster. He took another, didn’t make a sound, and the monster's head snapped to the side, zeroing in on him.

It’s eyes narrowed and it let out a sharp, grading, cry before charging forwards at full speed.

Tommy shrieked and ran towards Tubbo, grabbing his arm in an attempt to pull him up, babbling about a ‘something big something bad- monster- run run run’.

They rushed through the trees, trying to stick close to one another without tripping, jumping over large roots and avoiding vines they didn’t dare bother to look back.

“We need to move around more- so we’re harder to follow!” Tubbo called to him, Tommy shook his head.

“No! We could get lost- besides we can out run that bastard!”

The land started to look a little familiar, the trees started thinning and the chitters of the animals were dying down.

Tommy dared to look behind him and skidded to a halt, chest heaving, he didn’t see the monster behind him and flopped on the ground, trying desperately to suck down as much air as possible.

He heard Tubbo stop too, looking over to see him leaning against a tree, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“So- besides- besides the monster- I think that went pretty well.”

Tubbo gave him a look before laughing, “Yeah- yeah it did.”

They waited for a few moments, trying to get their breathing back under control, Tommy took to breaking a twig into smaller pieces while Tubbo fiddled with the flower still stuck in his shirt.

After a while Tommy sat up, immediately regretting it as all the blood rushed from his head, tossing the shredded twig bits aside.

“We should probably get back home,”

Tubbo nodded as Tommy climbed to his feet then rushed over and grabbed Tubbo’s shoulders.

“You can’t tell anyone about any of this, okay Tubbo? It has to be a complete secret.”

Tubbo nodded again, putting his hands on top of Tommy’s, “Got it!”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay- now let's get out of here.” They walked to the edge of the forest and after making sure the coast was clear ran over and ducked back through the fence, pushing the swaying willow vines away.

The fourth circle was quiet, the cracked cobble brick roads were barren, the sun was just starting to set so they picked up the pace.

They couldn’t have gotten three houses down the road until they ran into Technoblade, he barely spared them a passing glance, in favor of messing with a hole in his sleeve.

“There you guys are.” He said, “Knew you were out here.”

“What- how?”

“It’s a sense- I can tell when you’re doing something stupid.”

“That’s rude- I don’t do stupid things-”

“Sure Tommy, now lets get home.” Techno had already turned to walk away.

“Get home?”

“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder, “You have people who worry about your wellbeing you know.”

‘I don’t think you know that.’ Tommy wanted to retort but kept his mouth shut, trailing behind Techno who didn’t seem to understand there wasn’t a rush to get home and there was no need for him to walk that fast.

The walk back was mostly silence saved for a few questions about the weekend's homework. The trio eventually reached the rusty metal stairs, Techno turned to Tubbo.

“Can you make it back to your place okay?”

Tubbo nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be fine, see you later.” He waved and continued down the street.

They watched him leave and Tommy felt his nerves settle just a little bit when;

“You were in the forest.” It wasn’t a question.

“Uh-”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Tommy froze, not sure of what to do, was Techno mad at him or just annoyed? He could never tell.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Techno sighed, Tommy shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Didn’t see anything weird in there?”

“Nope.” Tommy felt like it was probably better if Techno didn’t know about the monster even if it didn’t get that close- better safe than sorry.

Techno eyed him up and down. “Okay you’re definitely lying.”

“What! No I’m not- you stupid-”

“Yeah yeah- just get upstairs.” Techno sighed again, nudging Tommy towards the stairs.

Tommy stuck his tongue out but headed up towards the apartment anyways, grinning when he looked down and noticed the buttercup still wrapped in between his shoe laces.

It was busted up and missing a few petals but was still soft between his fingertips and glowed softly in the dim light of his room.

He put it in a little glass of water on his desk for a reminder of his adventure with his friend.

#mcyt #tommyinnit #tubbolive #tubbo #clingyduo #clingyblr #MCYT DFF AU #Apples Writing #I forgot how to tag #fluff #flowers and bugs

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anjalis-ennui · 3 years

Text

emeralds and steel. (pt. 1)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: hi! this is my bucky barnes x reader series! reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns in this! she is also born indian as i myself am indian and i don’t see enough indian representation, especially in fics. however, she knows many languages, so feel free to interpret her ethnicity as you see fit. i’m sorry for not posting anything over the past couple of days, as i was working on this! i hope you enjoy!

warnings: canon-typical violence, sexism, racism, implied racial slurs

tags: none so far, but if you would like to join the taglist, please fill out the taglist form!

summary: reader is a sorceress who was prophesized to be the host of the time stone. she has been alive since ancient greece and has been wandering the earth since. she cannot age nor die since she is now the body of an infinity stone. she was in the british royal military during the second world war, but didn’t see her strengths used well, so she signs up for the ssr: being shipped out to project rebirth with peggy carter.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Rejected.”

“With all due respect, sir, I have been part of the British Royal Military far longer than you have had a job. I wish to join the Strategic Scientific Reserve, for which my resume is--to be honest--overqualified.”

“What would an Indian woman have to do with the British Royal Military? I find your story ineffably false.” The snooty man pushed his glasses up his nose and narrowed his eyes at her. Her tie was askew, her hair was all over the place, and her papers were in a bunch: only held together by her hands.

Just then, another woman walked by the desk, raising her eyebrows at the pair. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize Lieutenant (l/n), Mr. Lowe. She’s got not one, but two doctorates in the sciences. I’d think she’s rather qualified for the SSR, regardless of her gender or race.” The man huffed and got up, storming off to who knows where. The woman smiled and held her hand out. “Agent Peggy Carter from the SSR. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lieutenant.”

(Y/n) smiled, furrowing her brows, and shook Peggy’s hand. “I’m surprised you know who I am.”

“Nonsense, I’ve followed your career since I joined the military. You’re somewhat of a legend around these parts. Now, the head of the SSR heard of your application and is assigning you to Project Rebirth as a supervisor alongside myself. Your doctorates in chemistry and neuroscience will help us quite a lot.” She started walking towards a side door, motioning for (y/n) to follow. “There’s a plane waiting to take us to Camp Lehigh. Do you have luggage with you?”

She shook her head as she followed the woman. “I’m a light traveler. When you’re a lieutenant with no family you tend to have no roots in society.” (Y/n) gave Peggy a half-smile, waving away her concerned look. “I’m fine, Agent Carter. I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?”

“Indeed you have,” she said pensively. How could someone so strong have no one to rely on? The lieutenant was the first woman to hold such a high rank in the military and have so many degrees for her age. She was young, beautiful, and smart: everything a man could want. She would be expected to have a husband and kids, and yet she had no family. The woman had seemed to hold a sense of sadness as she said this, but she seemed empathetic and lively. Peggy intended to be her friend, whether (y/n) wanted her to or not. Maybe then she could find out what made her tick...

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Y/n) stepped into place beside Peggy as they observed the candidates. The men looked buff and ready to charge into battle, that is, all but one. The scrawny man, sorry, boy that trailed after the others seemed like he belonged in a toy wagon playing with the other children rather than Camp Lehigh. “Ready to scare them, Agent Carter?”

“Always, Lieutenant.” Peggy walked forward, revealing herself to the men. “Recruits, attention! Gentlemen, I’m Agent Carter. I supervise all operations for this division.” (Y/n) smiled serenely at them as she walked forward and stood next to the agent. “For those of you who may not know me, I am Lieutenant (l/n), the assistant supervisor for this division.”

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army.” The soldier internally rolled her eyes at the remark. Men, the bane of her existence. “And what’s with this...lieutenant? Didn’t know we were letting ni-”

(Y/n) shot forward and put him into a chokehold. “I dare you to finish that sentence, soldier. I am not to be discriminated against just because my skin is darker than yours, and if such foul words are going to come from your mouth, I daresay that we should wash it out and string it up on a clothesline.” She let him go and turned to Peggy, giving her a closed-eyed smile. “Would you like to do the honors, Agent Carter?”

“Certainly, though I think you’ve scared him enough.” The agent punched him, sending him straight to the ground. “That’ll teach you to respect women and especially women of color.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

“You’re not really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?” Colonel Phillips walked beside Dr. Erskine and the lieutenant, frowning at them. They couldn’t possibly be thinking of picking the runt of the group for the experiment of the decade, could they?

“I am more than just thinking about it. He is the clear choice.”

“When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide. I thought, what the hell? Maybe he’ll be useful to you, like a gerbil. I never thought you’d pick him.”

“Steven has character, Colonel, something that most of our recruits don’t,” (Y/n) cut in. “Dr. Erskine is right. He is the clear choice.”

The colonel sighed as he watched Steve fail to catch up with the rest. “Look at that. He’s making me cry.”

Erskine’s thick German accent was tinged with fatigue, as if he had run a marathon. “We are looking for qualities beyond the physical.”

“Do you know how long it took to set up this project?”

“Yes, we know, Colonel--”

“All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator What’s-His-Name’s committees?”

“Brandt. And yes, we know.”

“Then throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him. He’s big, he’s fast, he obeys orders. He’s a soldier.”

“Let me stop you there,” the lieutenant held out a hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Not only is Hodge racist and sexist, he is also arrogant and rude. He is a bully.”

“You don’t win wars with niceness.” He fished a grenade out of a box, holding it out so they could see. “You win them with guts.” Phillips threw the grenade at the recruits, yelling, “Grenade!” and standing by to watch.

To the trio’s amazement, Steve jumped onto the grenade, willing to sacrifice himself to save others. The two doctors looked at the colonel, each hiding a smile. “It was a dummy grenade,” he informed. “All clear. Back in formation.”

“Is this a test?”

Colonel Phillips ignored the soldier, and grumbled, “He’s still skinny.” To his chagrin, the two doctors were proven right. Steve would become the new super soldier, even though he was far too weak.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: this was a lot of fun to write! expect a part 2 come up in a couple days to a week! oh, and if you’d like me to create a playlist for this series, i’d love to! in the meantime, i have another special surprise~

#jade's ice cream #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #blossom diaries #🌸 — blossom #🌷 — sfw

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miraculous786 · 4 years

Text

I saw you were open for asks and I’m still pretty new to this so sorry in advance.

But: Momfriend!Marinette (about the same age as Jason) working part-time in a coffee shop while going to Gotham Academy and she sees this tired kid hanging out for hours on end so she gives him coffee and croissants a few times a week. The boy being Tim who starts spending more and more time at the cafe because Mari is like the best big sister. The others get curious and want to see what’s going on with the coffee-addict…

(Sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but congrats on all the followers 😁)

~*~*~

Note: Thank you! And this idea is great, I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

Of Brothers And Beverages

“Hello, sir. What can I get you today?”

“A spiced cappuccino with extra sugar, please.”

“Coming right up!” Marinette enthused to the customer, just before turning around. She began to pull out the necessary ingredients for the brew, and proceeded to whip it up with a small smile gracing her features.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her co-worker moving about, almost with the fluency of liquid. His blond hair shone from a skylight above. His actions were practised and methodical.

The two made a moment of eye contact, and it caused them both to grin in secret whilst they carried on with their jobs. However, the girl couldn’t ignore the flicker of amusement and love that had shown in his emerald orbs for that split second of them staring at each other.

Marinette faced the person ordering with a slight blush.

“Here you go,” she said, placing a cup on the counter. The man took it, and put down a few dollars.

“Thanks,” he spoke, as he walked away and to the exit of the coffee shop. On the way, he passed a few tables - one of which had a teenager sitting with a laptop in front of him.

Marinette found herself frown at the sight, as she took in his slouched posture and slumped shoulders. Bags lay deep and dormant beneath his eyes.

The woman scanned about, and after deeming it empty enough, made her way to the edge of the counter. There, Adrien stood, with a knowing smirk and folded arms.

“Got another kid in your sights, Bug?”

“Maaaayyybe…” she responded, dragging out the first half of the word.

At his widening smile, Marinette turned a light pink and gazed away. “That boy reminds me of him, for some reason. They have the same look in their eyes.”

She looked right up at him, and carried on, “The same one you have, too.”

Adrien’s expression turned grim, as he chanced a glance to the male at the table nearby. “Abandoned too, huh? Maybe it’s best we both go to see how he’s doing.”

“Yeah,” the woman agreed. She noticed that a few other workers had taken her place at the till, prompting her to let out a sigh of relief.

The couple sauntered over to where the kid was, making sure that their postures weren’t unsettling or at the very least intimidating. When finally reaching him, they couldn’t help the worried looks they wore as they took in his drooping eyes and sagged body.

“Hey, are you okay?” Marinette asked softly, bending down to meet his shorter stature. At his lack of response, she tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.

Ever so slowly, he turned his head to face her. “What…?” he mumbled, faintly squinting.

“Are you okay?” Adrien questioned this time with furrowed brows.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, going back to his computer.

Marinette shared a secretive glance with her partner, and sent him nod. He walked back to the front counter to retrieve an item.

“Listen, kid,” she spoke, while taking the seat across from him. “What’s your name?”

“…Tim.”

“Right, Tim. You look like you’ve been through hell and back with not one second of rest, if I’m being honest.”

“Sounds about right,” the younger one murmured.

“And you are in need of a serious pick-me-up.”

She held an arm out to the side, and Adrien - who had just returned - placed a special concoction of coffee in her hand. She placed the cup in Tim’s view.

He raised a brow at it.

The designer exhaled, putting a hand to her head. “Yes, we’re in Gotham, but that doesn’t mean it’s drugged. I swear.”

At his look, she added on, “Do we look like the kind of Gotham Academy kids that would poison some boy that looks to be dead in the first place?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Fair enough.”

~*~*~

“Is it necessary for you to bring me on such a pointless mission?”

“Shut it, Demon Spawn,” Jason hushed. “Don’t you want to find out where Timber gets those pastries from?”

Damian scowled, and muttered beneath his breath, “I know someone who can make tastier, I guarantee.”

His words were left unheard, as they continued to sit in more prolonged silence at their table.

Beside the boy, Dick readjusted the leather trenchcoat he wore, and coughed into his hand. That caused his brothers to look up in unison to be met with him saying quickly, “Three o'clock. Keep it subtle.”

Damian fought the urge to roll his eyes, as he glanced to the nearest wall for the time. It was close to when the coffee shop would shut, and if they weren’t careful, they would all be caught spying.

At the other side of the spacious room, Tim sat himself down on one of the circular tables, with three chairs around it. They were surprisingly comfy, and provided a place for him to lean his stiff back on.

He took out his phone from his pocket, and began to type. His other unoccupied hand tapped a monotonous tune at the wooden furniture beneath him.

Damian watched Tim’s actions in a bored stupor - soon deciding to scoff quietly as he turned the other way. He too pulled out his phone.

The youngest Wayne was left unaware of what was happening to the side, unlike his brothers, who were spectating in shock.

“Tim!”

All of a sudden, the device in said boy’s grip was gone, and a person was instead embracing him tightly. Their arms encased him in warmth, whilst a hand stroked at his back in soothing motions.

“How’s it going, Sweetie?”

“Okay, Sis,” Tim replied. He huffed in false annoyance as Marinette gave his hair a ruffle.

She moved back, and took the seat closest to him.

“You sure? You look like a zombie,” the waitress noted dryly.

“I think I’ll leave the undead business to my brother, thank you very much.”

That earned a giggle from the older woman.

“Speaking of which, where’s Adrien?”

“At home,” she said with a sigh. “He had to deal with business involving his family.”

“Gabriel?”

“Gabriel.”

Quiet lingered around for a few seconds.

“Sorry, do you mind if I give that table over there their order?”

“Oh, no. It’s no problem,” Tim assured, seeing her walk away to the counter at the front of the shop just after his response.

Marinette scooped up a tray with both hands, which had three cups and several packets of sugar piled on top. She spun around, and started to make her way to the trio at a table in the corner.

One of them - with a white streak at their fringe - made a second of eye contact with her, just before looking back down again. She wasn’t aware of how he was frantically whispering to the oldest there.

“Here’s your order,” she chirped, plopping the tray down between them all.

“Thank you,” two of them said in unison, while the last person stayed silent.

“It’s no problem!”

Just as Marinette was about to turn away, a quiet voice speaking made her whirl back around in a flash.

“Sister?” they called.

It took her a second to take in who was sat there.

“Dami? Oh, it’s great to see you here!”

To everyone’s surprise, she knelt down and enveloped him in a hug, that Damian reciprocated wholeheartedly. Then, she planted a chaste kiss to his forehead, and scrutinised the men with him.

“Who are you guys?”

Dick was the first to compose himself.

“Jason and I are his brothers,” he revealed, smiling kindly. “Oh, and so is Tim over there.”

Whipping her head back, Marinette was met with the sight of Tim - his jaw slack as he stared at them all.

“Sis, how…how do you know Damian?”

A beam stretched across her features after a few moments.

“He’s one of my honorary siblings!”

The waitress faced Jason and Dick. “I guess that means you guys are my brothers too, right?”

The older one smirked, much to Damian and Tim’s horror.

“I guess it does, huh?”

~*~*~

@northernbluetongue @moonystars14

#maribat #adrienette #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #ml x dc #timmari #timinette #platonic timmari #platonic daminette #submission #adribat

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.19 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has been through a lot in his short time in Backwater, but there's always the Dorothy option.

~~*~~

Read ‘The Dorothy Option’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

As much as things changed, they also stayed the same. But they still changed and there wasn’t a damn thing Stretch could do about it. He never could.

After Red cut him loose from the shop for the day, walking across the main street to the movie theater was the same, but the breeze cutting through the sweltering heat was different. A couple days ago, Stretch would have eagerly lifted his face into it, let it dry the sweat rolling from his skull and basked in the cooling effect.

Today it was a reminder that summer was actually ending, and autumn was creeping in one slow step at a time. He’d always liked the fall season since they came to the surface, there was no such thing in the Underground. But now that he knew what was coming with the end of the harvest season, it only made him a little sad. It wouldn’t be too long until the scarecrow pole in all the fields was empty.

Stretch paused outside the theater, looking back towards the shop and past it, to the forest behind it. He was too far away to hear the rustling leaves, still green and vibrant, untouched thus far by the changing season. He could still hear it somehow, like a leftover echo, the memory of that sound loud in his head as he turned back to the theater, the constant chatter of leaves scratching inside his skull.

The sound cut off like a stopped tape recorder as the door swung shut behind him. Igor was right inside, looking a lot like an out of work funeral director in his threadbare suit. He looked up from where he was sweeping dandruffy bits of popcorn into a pile and wordlessly went behind the counter to scoop out two cartons of fresher stuff. The dilapidated marquee over the concession stand had only one title on it. ‘The Wizard of Oz’.

“weren’t you playing this flick just a couple weeks ago?” Stretch asked curiously, handing over a fiver.

“Popular movie around here,” Igor told him, tonelessly. Yeah, okay, movies about Kansas and great farming fields, and wonderous unknown worlds where danger lurked. Wasn’t hard to see how people around Backwater could form a parallel to that, hell, there was probably a shrine to Judy Garland in every house on the street, set up with offerings of corn and tiny water buckets.

He looked down at the popcorn cartons that were sitting on the counter, the smell of fresh melted butter rising, and asked abruptly, “can i get a box of raisinets, too?”

Igor nodded and took back the single bill he’d laid down, the box of candy rattling loudly as he set it on the countertop.

Stretch took it and the popcorn and headed into the theater. What was that about, he wondered. He didn’t even like raisins. Maybe he’d take them back for Red.

The theater was empty, without so much as an abandoned soda cup in the aisles and the floor still swept entirely clean. So much for people loving this movie. Stretch sat down in the far back row with his popcorn and candy to wait.

Right on schedule, the lights went low, the MGM logo came up, and then with a swell of music Kansas appeared in a grainy sepia.

He’d seen the Wizard of Oz before coming to Backwater. The first time he’d seen it, they were still in the Underground and it was hard not to make the odd mental comparisons when they came to the surface. Now that he was here in this town, Stretch related to Dorothy more than ever. A stranger in a strange land, sure, but the scarecrow sidekick was pretty damn specific. Would Edgar Allen even know what the yellow brick road was? He was pretty sure the scarecrow in his life didn’t get out of his fields much, if ever.

Never going anywhere, never really living. He sat out there in fields with corn and crows for company, guardian and prison as one. Stretch wondered if that was as sad as his mind kept trying to make it or was he putting his own pathos on an anthropomorphic personification of a scarecrow. Maybe Edgar Allen was perfectly happy with his lot in life. Hell, maybe he was looking forward to the harvest season and a chance to rest without the corn chattering to him all the time, it was possible.

Thinking that made him feel a little better about the situation and Stretch sank back into his chair and munched on another buttery handful of popcorn.

He was so absorbed in the movie that at first, he didn’t notice the seat next to him was no longer empty. A blood-streaked hand reaching towards the other carton of popcorn was his first clue and Stretch bit back a yelp, soul hammering in his ribcage as he inwardly cursed himself for being so jumpy. Wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this before, loads of times now, it was what he bought the second carton for.

“hey, there,” Stretch said softly to his ghostly companion. “sorry it’s been a few days.”

“That’s all right,” Doris told him, her faint voice barely audible over the strains of ‘We’re off to see the Wizard.

The Tin Man was lamenting his lack of heart by the time Doris spoke again, tentatively and filled with quiet apology. “I’m very sorry, I feel as if I should know your name, but…”

Oh. Stretch closed his sockets briefly. Damn it, Red warned him about this, to not be surprised if she didn’t remember him. He didn’t allow the faint sting of hurt to show. It wasn’t her fault, it was entirely the fault of whoever had blown away part of her head and left her here to haunt a lonely, dilapidated old theater until it was time for her to go wherever ghosts did when they moved on.

Whoever it was that did this to her, stole her life and left her mostly alone in death, Stretch hoped they felt that sin clawing its way up their back long after they went to the hereafter.

“it’s okay, doris,” he said as gently as he could while Judy Garland danced across the screen, “it’s stretch, like a rubber band.”

“Yes! Stretch!” she laughed delightedly. She clapped her gloved hands together like a child. “Yes, that’s it. It was on the tip of my tongue when I saw you brought me popcorn, but I couldn’t quite shake it loose.”

No surprise there, half the time she didn’t have much tongue left.

She leaned in over her carton to take a deep, ghostly breath and twin streamers of blood ran from her nostrils. His appetite for popcorn faded and Stretch fumbled out the box of raisinets. The cheap milk chocolate barely masked the taste of the raisins and he grimaced, chewing gamely even though the texture always made him think of eating bugs. Dirt-flavored bugs in chocolate, who the hell came up with this so-called treat and were they appropriately punished for it. He could only hope.

They sat together in silence, watching the movie, and by the time the trio made it to the Emerald City, Stretch was squirming in his seat. Doris’s appearance broke the distracting spell of the movie and now his thoughts were wandering back to that morning and Edge’s sudden appearance in the store with so much worry on his pale face. Then there was that soft, unexpected kiss, so sweet against his cheekbone, a punctuation mark on the end of a silent paragraph and maybe he needed someone else to give it a read.

“doris, can i ask you something?”

She turned to him, the ruin of her head solidifying into a pretty young woman as she tilted it curiously. “Of course.”

“it’s kinda a long story.”

She folded her gloved hands primly into her lap. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

And that was her real tragedy, wasn’t it. She was tied to this crumbling old theater, unable to go where she needed to. He didn’t know what happened to ghosts once the building they were tied to was gone. But this place was on its last legs and if it closed, the cushions of empty seats rotting away and the silver screen silent, where did she go? He hoped it was someplace nice, a place where she could rest and always be beautiful, without bringing along the gory remains of her last minutes of life.

But they were working on his issues right now. “it’s about a guy.”

Doris brightened visibly and literally, going briefly more solid. “That Edge person you were speaking of before? The other skeleton.”

“yeah,” Stretch said, relieved. He hadn’t been sure how to bring up what they’d talked about before without making her feel bad for not remembering. “see, it’s like this—"

Doris sat and listened as he talked, as enthralled as she’d been when watching the movie. It was like last time when he’d came to ask her about Edgar Allen; she never flickered when she gave him the full weight of her attention.

It might be bad for the theater to have so many empty seats in the house, but it was good for people with the bad manners to talk over the movie. Stretch told her everything, didn’t hold back a thing. About meeting Edge in Red’s living room and his attempted lamp-ocide, about their impromptu lunch at Mama’s. About his brief starring role as little orange biking hood when he ventured to their cabin in the woods, about Frisk. The only thing he didn’t mention was the whole ‘me from another universe’ thing. That was a lot for even him to bend his mind around and his was still in one piece. Doris never interrupted, listened all the way to the end, until Stretch was nearly hoarse as he said, "…so what do you think?"

"Hmm. He certainly sounds charming, in a rude sort of way. My, it makes me think of Pride and Prejudice," she laughed softly. "Although your Mister Darcy showed his true nature far sooner in your tale.”

Thinking of Edge’s hips in a pair of those tight old-school trousers while he danced a waltz was not at all helping the situation and Stretch shoved that thought deep into a mental closet for later.

“but what should i do? he confuses me so much i don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt around him.” He slid down in the chair until his skull was resting on the back. “and then there’s red to think about, he’s done so much for me. he says he’s not worried about his brother, but…” Stretch trailed off and held up his empty hands.

She nodded thoughtfully. “But you don’t want to stir up trouble in their family, especially since it seems they already have some rough waters.”

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, tiredly. He knew something about stormy weather in a sibling relationship. The last thing he wanted to do to Red and Edge was bring in rainclouds of his own.

“I think you should talk to him,” she said at last. “Tell him what you’re feeling. It seems to me he’d listen to you and he wouldn’t…” Doris’s mouth moved but her words faded. Her pretty visage changed gruesomely, a full show of her shattered face and skull, the fragile bits of bone littered across one shoulder while blood filled the ruin of her eye socket.

Stretch swallowed hard and didn’t look away, waiting until she slowly returned to appearance of a lovely young woman who was finishing triumphantly, “…and who knows what will come of it after that!”

Okay, well, half an advice was better than none and he sure wasn’t gonna ask her to repeat herself.

So. Talk to him. Right. Not bad advice, maybe a little generic, but then, Doris didn’t know about his past history when it came to relationships. She also didn’t know that Backwater wasn’t a permanent assignment for him. He wasn’t too sure about bringing that up, not when it affected her, too. Maybe it would be better to let her forget him when he was gone; with her memory, she might not even realize what she was missing aside from the occasional wistful thought about a spare carton of popcorn.

But she wasn’t wrong, either. Much as he wanted to continue skipping through his life of avoidance, there was only one way he was going to get any real answers. Maybe it was time to figure out exactly where he and Edge stood. His sense of balance in life was pretty damn shaky as it was, and Backwater seemed to treat the laws of reality as more like suggestions. Why would the laws of gravity be any different?

Plus, there was another mystery Stretch was looking to unravel and he was already working on a plan for that. He owed some gratitude to a bony skeleton dragon in the woods and Stretch wasn’t keen on owing debts.

Doris folded her hands into her lap primly. “So? What are you going to do?”

“eh,” Stretch let out a little laugh, “something stupid.”

“Oh.” Doris pursed her lips. “Is it safe?”

“nope,” Stretch said cheerfully and poured himself out another handful of chocolate pseudo-bugs. “but i’ve stayed alive so far. may as well press my luck.”

On the screen, Dorothy was repeating her most famous line and he had to agree, there was no place like home. His only problem with it was that he was starting to get a little fuzzy on where exactly that was.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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ablabberingmess · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3 WIP

Here's a quick WIP of chapter 3 of my fic! Progress is going smoothly but it may take another day or two until I can upload it onto ao3. c:

The fic is basically a Labinnit & Labboo AU where Tommy is a clone of Phil! there is a lot of Allium Duo for the first few chapters but it eventually develops into bench trio and sbi. For the most part I’m not planning on it having too much angst, only hurt/comfort, but time will tell where I will go with this!

TWs for the fanfic so far: Swearing, because Tommy, and derealisation.

For those who may be interested, here is the link to the fic! https://archiveofourown.org/works/32600272/chapters/80867893

Tommy has never felt this tired in his long, lengthy life of eight years.

He has not had a full meal in half a week and he’s somehow clutching a kitbag that was a lot heavier than it looked in one hand, practically dragging a five foot three enderman across a bustling train station in the other whilst also being hightailed by what seemed to be the worst person he could’ve stolen from.

Prime he was fast. He can hear his shouts (which were full of profanities and expletives that Tommy will make his life’s mission to use as much as possible once they safely get outta here) getting closer no matter how much he forced his legs to hurry the fuck up. Either that guy was made entirely of muscle or Tommy and in extension Ranboo were a lot more malnourished than he thought they were.

He spares a glance behind him, eyes widening further when he notices a large group of uniform-cladded humans had noticed the commotion, some staying to type on some sort of handheld device while the rest pursue them, but unlike the guy that may or may not be made entirely out of muscle they actually knew where they were going, and they definitely were going to snatch the both of them if they kept to their current pace.

To put it lightly, they were in a tricky situation. But good thing Tommy has the biggest brain in all of the Overworld.

“Ranboob!” He yells through gritted teeth, zigzagging through the watching crowd. “There’s an ender pearl in the bag! Make yourself useful and get us the fuck out of here!”

Ranboo nods frantically despite knowing the other boy wouldn’t see, his free hand hovering over the bag. He struggles for a few seconds before reaching in, his claws shaking from either terror or from running at full throttle.

(Hint: It’s both.)

Almost straight away he feels and pulls out a twinkling green sphere - an ender pearl. Ranboo gasps and gapes at how it fits into his hand like a jigsaw puzzle finally completed, routed with an emotion he can’t quite place. It shimmers and catches the light the exact way his own emerald eye does, texture similar to glass yet less firm.

(It calls to him and he sees Home for only a split moment, towers and citadels and a boundless Void he’s only seen in flickering dreams.)

With a grunt, Ranboo throws it as far as he can.

They’re already near the entrance when Tommy sees the pearl fly overhead. It wisps through the air in near silence, soaring high, high above the tallest building in the area, in the direction opposite the ocean. The blonde takes his chance.

He abruptly releases Ranboo’s hand and skews, feet pivoting until he’s facing him. He catches sight of the hybrid’s expression - a ghostly blend of fear, stupefaction and hesitance- along with the faces of all the angry people who were stomping right behind them, and stampedes towards him in full force.

“T-Tommy? Tommy??? What are you-“

Ranboo yelps as the boy collides into him, forcing the air out of his lungs. He digs his heels into the ground, gaze shooting down to see Tommy locking eyes with the very brunet they’ve stolen from. He watches in sprouting dread as he bares a wolffish grin at the teen, and promptly sticks out his tongue.

“Fuck you, bitch! See you all never!”

With one final exaggerated flip of the bird from Tommy, Ranboo feels the world beneath them disappear.

#dsmp #dream smp #c!tommyinnit #c!ranboo #allium duo #dsmp fic

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ilikefandom · 4 years

Text

Snape’s Secret

Hi again. This is my first time posting with Snape and any constructive criticism will be adored. I tried to make the reader as ambigous as possible.

Warnings: Fluff, Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Snape is not himself and nobody knows why, that is until our lovely reader shows up.

Type: Oneshot

When the third cauldron exploded the class held its breath as they turned to look at the professor. Severus Snape was looking at the culprit, Neville Longbottom, who was shaking in his boots. Snape’s face turned red, however it was not rage he expressed.

“Clean it up Longbottom.” Snape hissed at the fourth year student, before stalking to the other side of the classroom to sit at his desk.

The class sat in stunned silence as Snape opened a drawer in his desk. He looked up at the class, “Well?” he growled, “Back to work.”

He slid a letter out of the drawer and opened the seal gingerly with his fingernail. Looking back up at his class, Professor Snape sneered, “Do I have to tell you again? Back to work!”

He unfolded the letter as most of the class turned back to their cauldrons whispering about Snape’s sudden change in attitude. Some speculated it was the upcoming Triwizard tournament, others thought a pay raise was behind the slight smirk on Severus’ face, but Hermione Granger knew better.

Snape had been in a decent mood all week, he had yet to deduct more than 50 points from Gryffindor or any house for that matter. Snape had yet to give any student, in any house, detention. He had been seen receiving letters and at least once a day, and this made Hermione wonder if the serious, snarky, Severus Snape had found himself a significant other.

Snape folded the letter, picked up a piece of new parchment and began to write a reply. He was so engrossed in his response that he neglected to call up the students for sampling until he was done. He folded the letter, casting a clever little traveling spell over the entrance to the drawer, he placed the letter through the top and closed the drawer, removing the spell with a flick of his wand.

“Now,” Snape turned to his class who stood around their cauldrons chatting and none more loud than the so-called ‘Golden Trio’ “Bring up your samples to my desk so that I can grade them. Hurry up!” He snapped.

The class collected their samples and passed them to the brooding teacher as he placed them away for testing on his grading block. He opened the letter he had received earlier and smiled slightly at the small, uniform handwriting.

Dearest Severus

I hope that the students aren’t giving you too much trouble. As I write this I sit at my desk as my students watch our first media study. Teaching History of Interaction has been the best experience and I wish it was an elective at Hogwarts rather than a mandatory subject here. I miss you so much and I cannot wait until the Triwizard Tournament as we will be able to see each other for a few months as our Interaction field trip takes place. My most senior students noticed my ring during the first period. Seriously, get a bigger emerald next time.

I can’t wait until this summer. I bought my dress last week and I ordered you a set of navy dress robes. They should arrive in a few days. Drinking cocoa, watching films with my students and thinking about you.

Always yours,

(Y/N)

Snape gave one final half smile at his parchment before the bell rang and he dismissed his class with a wave of his hand.

A few weeks passed and soon all the other schools arrived for the Triwizard Tournament. As all of the rules were spoken about the tournament, Dumbledore checked his watch. He smiled and stood when Barty Crouch Sr. had finished speaking.

“Thank you Barty,” he said, addressing the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a nod. “Today we have another collection of students joining us merely to observe the Tournament. May I present the senior students of Borealis Academy of Magical Learning and their Deputy Headmistress, Ms. (Y/N)(L/N).

The heads of the students turned as an attractive young witch led the band of formally dressed teenagers to the front of the Gryffindor table, where the students each found their niche. Ms. (L/N) found her way to the Professors’ table and sat herself in between Dumbledore and Professor Snape.

A hand touched Hermionie’s arm as she looked at the Deputy Headmistress. When she turned to see who it was, a student, a rather attractive one she had to admit, from the Borialis school.

“I’m sorry.” They said with a soft smile, “Can you pass me the chicken please?”

Hermione smiled, “Sure, can you tell me about your…”

However, she was interrupted by Ron before she could finish her sentence. “Why would she choose to sit beside Snape? There were plenty of empty chairs.”

“Why not?” The student asked with a quizzical expression. “I’m Sam by the way.” They added with a slight grin.

“Snape is horrible!” Ron started with a grimace, “He’s like the worst teacher here, and I’m Ron, Ron Weasly.”

“And I’m Hermione Granger.” Hermione said as she shook Sam’s hand. “Can you tell us about your teachers and curriculum? I have never heard of Borealis.”

Sam gave a hearty chuckle, “Borealis Academy of Magical Learning is in the very Northern part of Canada. It’s a huge castle made of ice. My favourite subject is Transfiguration, however, if it’s teachers you want to know about, Ms. (L/N) is my favourite, she’s everyone’s favourite.” They picked up three of the drumsticks and put them on their plate, they also spooned a large ladle-full of a creamy bisque into a bowl.

Ron looked over at the young woman who was laughing at something Dumbledore had said. He turned back to Sam, who was happily munching away, and asked, “Are there any bad teachers at your school?”

Sam smiled, “One that I don’t like. He teaches our mandatory Muggle Subjects class.” Sam shivered, “He gives the most horrible detentions. I also dislike our Magical Music teacher, but only because they’re so stuffy and angsty, I love going to their class.”

Harry, oblivious to Sam’s presence, jumped in his seat. “Since when did somebody else join us?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Sam, this is Harry Potter, Harry this is Sam, they’re from Canada.”

Sam gave Harry a little wave. “Hello. So what do you guys think about Hogwarts? Apparently our top four grades go to this Tournament thingy every four years to see a “Fantastic display of Magical Cooperation” as it was put on the permission form.”

“Well,” Hermione stated, “We’re only in Fourth Year, so we haven't seen this before…” She began to ask Sam more questions and they were happy to oblige with answers. Ron, however, was not paying attention, he watched, instead, as Professor Snape slipped his hand gently over Ms. (L/N)’s left one, caressing her fingers gently, where a beautiful silver and emerald engagement ring sat.

Ron gasped and almost knocked his plate onto the ground. Startling Hermione and Sam out of their conversation.

“What?” Asked Hermione, indignant, as she was in the middle of quizzing Sam about what classes were mandatory in Canada v.s in the UK.

“Snape’s touching her hand.” Ron said plainly and the quartet turned to look at the point where Severus Snape’s hand covered Ms. (Y/N) (L/N)’s. Hermione went slack-jawed, Harry’s eyes went wide and Sam… Well Sam was smiling their cheerful smile.

“She flaunts that ring like nobody’s business.” Sam commented going back to their meal, “At least we know who this mysterious English fiance of hers is.”

Sam looked as if they just had an epiphany and turned down the table to shout “Oi! Sara! Check out who’s marrying our teach!”

Heads turned and smiles formed on several faces down the table as gasps of ‘Finally!’ and “Yes!” echoed down the hall. Ms. (L/N) who had heard the commotion shook her head and beamed as she flipped her hand over to take Snape’s in hers.

(Y/N) laughed quietly as she gazed at her students with joy. She turned to Severus and smiled saying, “Severus, dear, you didn’t tell your students you were engaged, did you?”

Snape sneered at his food while (Y/N) laughed.

“Engaged? Severus?” Squeaked Professor Flitwick.

“You didn’t tell us!” Minerva McGonagall exclaimed. “Might I see the ring dear?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head.

(Y/N) smiled and held out her left hand to the Transfiguration teacher as the other woman inspected the ring. “My goodness! It’s very nice!” Poppy Pomfry chimed in sneaking a peek at the jewel in the centre.

“It was my idea,” Severus said glumly, “and it happens to be the stone of the month when we met. And it has our birth flowers carved into the side.”

“You’re forgetting one tiny detail darling.” (Y/N) said with a smirk, “It was my money.”

The other teachers gasped, as (Y/N) shook her head and giggled. “I come from a rather affluent family, it was a drop in the bucket that is my inheritance. I just like to make fun of him when I can.”

Snape rolled his eyes and took her hand again, with no prompting. (Y/N) drew her hand back to her side and turned to smile at Severus.

She would have a full life ahead of her to tease him, but, for now, joking in front of his co-workers would have to do.

Author’s Note: If you are non-binary or non gender conforming please let me know if I did an OK job with Sam. I wrote them based on the personality of one of my non-binary friends. Just let me know so I can write more realistic non gender conforming characters.

Author’s Note 2: Please send in requests for characters. All unmarked readers will be automatically assumed Fem. Make sure to send in a plot too. Bye!

#snape #severus snape #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #fluff #harry potter #reader is female #fem reader #ambigous reader #why do i even bother #jk rowling is a terf #so I made a nonbirnary character #read fanfics #lgbt

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Amare: Change Overnight

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~4.6k Rating: T with implied off-screen M activities Time Frame: First year of college? Maybe second? Dunno yet Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: Oh gods, why would I think it to be a good idea to add another iron to a fire I’ve been struggling all year to keep hot enough to produce works worthy of posting? I blame the adorableness of the first several episodes of the Nijigasaki anime; the others have been awesome in their own right, but ideas for this started brewing early. So I guess I’m writing a Niji fic now as well.

Ughn… Ayumu felt her nose wrinkle and her brow furrow as a dull ache in her head filled her slowly waking consciousness. Is this what a hangover feels like? Karin and Emma had described the sensations to her a while back after a bunch of former school idol club members had gathered for a celebration of something. For some reason, Ayumu had feared it would be worse, but then again, she hadn’t had all that much to drink last night. At least not as much as the other two…

Last night hadn’t been the first time any of them had consumed alcohol during a celebration, but Ayumu was pretty sure it was the first time they had actually gotten drunk. Just what kind of beer had Yuu brought last night?

The three friends had gathered last night to celebrate Setsuna’s first single as a professional idol reaching Gold status in sales and the top of the Oricon charts for a week. Ayumu had cooked, Yuu had brought drinks and Setsuna was told just to bring herself as she was the one being celebrated. Not surprisingly, she still ended up bringing something anyway, signed CDs for her favorite fans. It all had been a fun night, not all that different from many other nights except the lack of studying and a particular focus on Setsuna and her accomplishment.

Ayumu’s vision was blurry as she opened her eyes, but the pink she saw indicated the duvet was hers so this was her bed. That made sense, as they had gathered in her room, which again, was fairly normal these days as it was typically the cleanest of the three.

Black. And green. Wait… was that…? Ayumu blinked a couple times in an attempt to focus. Sure enough, Yuu was asleep beside her. It wasn’t the first time her childhood friend had shared a bed with her, but Ayumu still felt a bit of heat gather in her cheeks from the proxim… wait… Yuu was closer than normal. A lot closer. So close, in fact, that…

Oh gods…

Ayumu repressed a gasp as she realized that what she was hugging in her arms was not one of her favorite stuffed animals, but instead, Yuu’s arm. Geez, now she would have to figure out how to let go without waking the other girl, lest she be teased about it. Slowly, and ever so gently, Ayumu began the process of detaching herself from Yuu. However, as she did so, she became aware of another sens…

Oh gods…

Why were neither of them wearing pajamas?!

The temperature of Ayumu’s cheeks reached a boiling point. What the…

Breathing. Senses still kicking in, Ayumu realized it wasn’t just Yuu’s and her own breathing she could hear. There was a third. All but forgetting the fact that she was still attached to Yuu, Ayumu pushed up on her shoulder and craned her neck just enough to…

Oh gods…

Setsuna was lying on her side, mirroring Ayumu’s position such that she assumed the part time idol was hugging Yuu’s other arm. And of course, she didn’t appear to be wearing pajamas either.

Heat was now spreading down Ayumu’s neck. What the heck happened last night?!

Ayumu squeezed her eyes shut as she focused her energy toward piercing the veil of fog in her mind and recalling any sort of details from the prior night.

After dinner, the three girls gathered together to watch a recording of one of Setsuna’s performances. Ayumu and Setsuna had leaned against Yuu in the middle to get a better view of Ayumu’s laptop screen. It hadn’t been the first time the three had squeezed together to watch something, usually anime or idol related videos. It was so common, in fact, that the three had developed an unspoken routine to rotate who got to be in the middle.

What was unusual last night was the alcohol and a heightened sense of… something… Ayumu still couldn’t quite put a finger on the exact emotion, though it had probably been a mix. There was the all too familiar feeling she got when Yuu and Setsuna became lost in their own world while she was stuck watching. Throughout the concert, Yuu bounced back and forth between giddy fangirl and keen-eyed but friendly critic while Setsuna lapped up both the praise and insight like a happy puppy.

Thankfully, Ayumu had at least been able to get in a compliment or two of her own and had received in return several of Setsuna’s signature smiles, the kind that could ignite any heart with line of sight. Ayumu often wondered if the idol had any idea as to the effect of those smiles and if she invoked them intentionally or if they were just a natural part of her charm; Ayumu suspected the latter.

Still, something had continued to bother Ayumi. She hated to admit it, but it was likely the fact that Yuu had been completely focused on Setsuna to the point it felt like she had all but forgotten Ayumu was even there. Not that this should have come as any surprise, that was just how Yuu was when she was hyper-focused on one of her interests. Quite frankly, Setsuna wasn’t all that different, and when the two shared a given interest, a geeky feedback loop consumed them and it was often tough to get them back to reality. And idols were one of those shared interests. Not that Ayumu could blame them as she herself remained a fan, particularly of Setsuna.

Ayumu couldn’t deny her jealousy when Setsuna thanked Yuu for her help with composing the single that just charted, particularly because Yuu had responded by pondering the possibility of getting an internship at the same production company, which Setsuna had thought would be a good idea. This of course would mean the two would be working together and likely grow closer, which had reminded Ayumu of the decision she had made and that she still needed to tell the other two.

But then something had changed. The concert came to an end and Yuu had sighed. Then, saying something about nostalgia, she had opened a new tab and pulled up a different idol video. Ayumu had been surprised when she was suddenly watching herself on screen. A younger, school idol version of herself, but still.

Immediately, Setsuna had cooed something about adorableness which Yuu followed up with something about cuteness, or had it been the other way around? Not that it mattered as Ayumu had already lost the battle in keeping down a blush by the time the other two came to an agreement about her being even cuter now. Ayumu had sworn, years ago, that someday she would react better to such compliments, but that day yet to come. Thus, as always, she had found herself a flustered mess as the other two showered her with adoration.

Perhaps it had been the booze. Perhaps it been the desire to react differently. Perhaps it had been just giving in to a long-repressed desire. Perhaps all three… or probably… no, most certainly all three. In any case, the next memory that came to her was that of leaning in and pressing her lips gently against Yuu’s cheek.

Yuu had giggled her name in response and looked like she was going to return the favor when Setsuna had leaned in to plant a kiss on her other cheek. Ayumu’s jealousy flared again, but instead of pushing Setsuna away, she had pulled… and kissed her fully on the lips.

Oh gods… it really had been her that initiated all… that… Ayumu held down an embarrassed whine as memories continued to bubble up from the hazy depths of her mind.

Ayumu had realized what she had done and tried to retreat, but Setsuna had grabbed her shoulders and pulled them both deeper into the kiss. At that point, Yuu said something Ayumu couldn’t fully recall, but it had caught the attention of the other two girls. They broke off their kiss, turned and descended upon her.

At that point, Ayumu had no idea whose hands or lips went where, but she remembered the sensations. And the passion. Yuu’s gasps. Setsuna’s whimpers. And both of their moans. And by the gods she remembered how much she had wanted more.

Ayumu opened her eyes to see her two closest friends still sleeping soundly beside her. More… she still wanted more. Of course she wanted more. Yuu and Setsuna were more than just her best friends, they were the two she loved more than anyone, or anything else. Yuu, her childhood friend, on whom she’d had a crush for years. And Setsuna, who ignited something within both of them and changed the course of their lives before joining them for the ride as if she had always been there.

The three of them were practically inseparable through their second and third years of high school. And now in college, they’d gone so far as finding a dormitory with three available rooms next door to each other to make it that much easier to be together outside of class.

But now things were more complicated. Why did she have to do that? Ayumu chastised herself for her behavior the previous night. She knew better. Love triangles don’t last. They can’t. And they never ended well for the childhood friend.

Ayumu sighed. She thought she had steeled herself to step away and allow Yuu and Setsuna to be a couple. And she was going to do it last night, but Setsuna made her announcement at breakfast and Yuu immediately suggested a celebration that night. There was no way Ayumu was going to be the one to ruin the mood. Even if she wanted them to be happy, she knew her friends would want to console her and that would just bring everyone down.

“Nnn…”

A quite voice dragged Ayumu from her thoughts.

“Ayu… mu?” Yuu murmured, turning unfocused emeralds toward her.

“G-Good morning, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu managed to get out with minimal stuttering.

After Yuu yawned, Ayumu felt movement on her chest. Oh no! She was still holding Yuu’s arm! Yuu was moving it probably with the intent of rubbing her eyes or scratching an itch or stretching or…

“Ayumu?”

Oh gods! What to do? If she let go now, the movement would likely cause the duvet to slide away and reveal… But if she held on, Yuu would probably be able to feel… Oh gods…

“Why are you…”

“Kyaaa!”

A sudden scream came from the other side of Yuu and the duvet was pulled away. Setsuna, in her surprise, had apparently rolled backward off the bed. And taken the covers with her.

The next few minutes were chaos as the three girls scrambled to find covering while avoiding looking at each other.

“Ughnnn…” Yuu was the first to break the silence, which didn’t come as a surprise to Ayumu. “Anyone else have a splitting headache?” She let her head fall back onto the mattress from her position sitting against Ayumu’s bed.

“Mmm…” Came a meek reply from Setsuna who had backed herself into the corner between the wall and the desk. She clutched her knees to her chin as though to make herself as small as possible while not seeming to care what her position was revealing. Not that finding the skirt she had worn last night would have made much difference.

“Mine isn’t all that bad.” Ayumu admitted. “Do either of you want some water?”

“Yes, please.”

“Mmm…”

“Alright.” Ayumu got up to retrieve several bottles of water.

Upon her return, she couldn’t help noticing how cute Yuu looked in her pink shirt. Somehow, in their haste, they had ended up with the other’s top. It wasn’t the first time they had swapped clothing, but it was still rare to see Yuu in pink. Also, it had been a while, so doing so again felt… no, now wasn’t the time for that.

“Here.” She held a bottle out.

“Thanks, Ayumu.” Yuu replied with a tired smile. “You’re the best.”

Geez… she’s not making it any easier, is she…

Ayumu shook that thought away before making her delivery to Setsuna. “Here.”

After a moment, Setsuna looked up, then away, then down, and away again. The blush spreading across her cheeks was hard to miss. Wait, was she… Geez… Yuu-chan’s shirt is short on me…

“A-anyway, drink up, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu managed to get out as she pulled down the hem. “It should help a little.” That said, she made her way back to where she had been sitting.

Once again, silence descended upon the room.

Not good. Ayumu thought feeling a tension start to rise. Somebody say something. Please. Yuu-chan! You’re better at this! … … Geez…

“So…” Ayumu ventured.

“Mm?” Yuu turned her head toward her.

“Uhm…” Ayumu couldn’t help fidgeting with the hem of her… Yuu’s shirt. “What do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… last night…”

“What about it?”

“Well, we…”

“The drinking, or…”

Yuu-chan, you can’t possibly be that dense! “Not the drinking.” Though I am still curious about that beer you brought.

“Oh, well…” Yuu rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean I wish I remembered it in more detail. But I remember feeling really good. And that makes me happy.”

Yuu was happy about it? That’s good right? Or does it further complicate things?

Yuu furrowed her brow. “You two felt good too, right? I hope I wasn’t the only one.”

“Y-Yes.” Oh gods, did it feel good.

“Setsuna-chan?”

The raven-haired girl nodded weakly.

“But honestly, who would have thought Ayumu would be the one to make the first move.”

“Y-Y-Yuu-chan?” Ayumu sputtered, feeling heat explode across her cheeks. Yuu was right, of course, but did she really need to say it out loud?

“And all this time I’d been holding back because I thought you weren’t ready.”

What.

“You were holding back?” Ayumu’s mind reeled at the implications.

“Well, yeah, I mean that kind of stuff is normal, right? Of course I’d want to do that with the ones I love.”

Setsuna’s head snapped up, causing her to wince, but she gritted her teeth through whatever her hangover had just dealt her before opening her eyes again to stare at Yuu.

“Love?” Ayumu ended up being the one to put a voice to what she assumed to be the shared thought of both Setsuna and herself.

“Of course, love.” Yuu’s expression seemed one of either confusion or annoyance, though perhaps a mix of both. “I love you two. I… thought that much was obvious?”

Oh… Oh no… No. No, that’s not fair!

“Ayumu? What’s wrong?”

Of course, now she decides to be perceptive.

Ayumu swallowed hard.

“I’m… sorry…”

Yuu blinked. “Sorry? What are you apologizing for, Ayumu? Because you started…”

“No! The truth is…”

“The truth is…?”

Oh gods, why did it have to be so hard to say? Would it have been easier to say it last night? Before they did… that?

“I’m… planning to move out.”

“What?!” Yuu practically shouted, pushing herself up to stand on her knees, before realizing it was a bad idea. Her face contorted and she fell back down to sit on her feet, but she leaned forward again anyway to continue. “Moving? Ayumu? Why? I thought you liked it here?”

“I do, but…” Say it. Just say it and get it over with. “I’ve decided that you and Setsuna-chan need your space to be a happy couple. I’m just getting in your way.”

Yuu moved her mouth but no sound came out as she stared.

“You’re not in the way, Ayumu-san.”

Both Yuu and Ayumu turned their attention to the girl huddled in the corner who looked to be on the verge of tears.

“You’re not in the way.” Setsuna repeated. “Even someone like me can tell that the two of you have pretty much been a couple since longer than I’ve known you. If anyone is in the way…” she took an uneasy breath “it’s me…”

“Setsuna-chan…” Yuu whined, collapsing back against the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped with the weight of what her two friends had just revealed.

“I saw it right away, when I first met you.” Setsuna continued. “I saw it, and yet… I still fell for you. Both of you.” She tightened her arms around her legs. “While I was hiding my love of idols and anime from my parents, you two gave me a safe haven to truly be myself. And even when I could be more open at home, I realized how much more fun it was to share my hobbies with friends in person than with faceless avatars on random forums. And somewhere, amid all the time we spent together, I realized I couldn’t get enough, because I had fallen for you. But you two were already together.”

Setsuna paused as though still choosing the best words. “You know, I tried to walk away several times.” She made eye contact with Ayumu. “But you two just kept pulling me back in. And I kept letting you. And now… I guess I just wanted to hope that maybe my triangle would be different.” Her gaze fell back to the floor. “I’m sorry, I should just…” She let go of her knees and seemed to get ready to stand up.

“Wait.” Yuu stated. “Both of you, wait. Please.”

The other two girls turned toward her.

“I think…” She shook her head. “No, I know, I owe the two of you an apology.” She looked back and forth between them a couple times to make sure she had their full attention. “All this time, I’ve been thinking everything was great between us, that we were all happy together. I mean, I thought the main reason we got these dorm rooms, despite them being an extra station away from where we all need to go every day, was so we could live next door to each other and make seeing each other all the time that much easier.

“But I had no idea that either of you felt this way. I didn’t see it at all. So, I’m sorry. I really am. And I don’t care if it sounds selfish, but I don’t want either of you to go. I can tell you right now, losing either of you will not make me happier… Wait, now I’m confused. And maybe it’s just the hangover, but… You both wanted to leave because you loved me and wanted me to be happy with the other… Do you two not love each other?”

“What?” Setsuna seemed taken aback and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees to crawl a meter toward the others. “It’s because I also love Ayumu-san that I wanted her to be happy with Yuu-san! And I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

Ayumu stared at Setsuna. The same. They really did feel the same. Why hadn’t she noticed it sooner?

“So…” Yuu scratched her head. “Ayumu, you love Setsuna-chan and me.” She pointed at her childhood friend but didn’t wait for an answer before moving on. “Setsuna-chan, you love Ayumu and me. And I love the both of you. We don’t want Ayumu to leave. We don’t want Setsuna to leave… What about if I left?”

“No!” Ayumu and Setsuna said in unison.

Yuu grinned. “Then I guess the only solution is for us all to stay together.”

Was it really that simple? “Can we really do that?” Ayumu couldn’t help asking.

“Why not?” Yuu asked in return. “We’ve pretty much been doing it already up until now; we’re always together, we go on dates constantly, we share cooking responsibilities, we stay over in each other’s rooms. Heck the only things we didn’t do we just did last night. Sure, we just uncovered a snag where you two each thought you needed to leave for the sake of the other two, but now that we’re all on the same page and know that the other two both want us to stay, we should be good, right?”

“It won’t be easy…” Setsuna said quietly.

“Relationships aren’t supposed to be easy.” Yuu countered. “They’re about working together for the common goal of being happy together. Sometimes it feels easy because the rewards are just that great, but other times you have to slog through and remember that the effort is worth it.”

Ayumu blinked. As romantically dense as Yuu often was, it was not completely uncommon for her to catch Ayumu off guard with some poignant bit of insight.

“And I believe you two are worth all the effort I can give.” Yuu flashed a smile. It was the smile Ayumu had loved since childhood, naturally confident and casually reassuring, and it never failed to make her heartrate spike for a moment or two.

As the other two remained quiet, Yuu decided to continue. “And you know, triangles are the strongest shape. That’s why they’re used so often in construction. Graphene is the strongest substance we know because of the triple bonds formed among the carbon atoms. Triangles are also the most stable shape. That’s why they’re used for tripods for cameras and stuff. And…”

Setsuna had started giggling about halfway through Yuu’s geeky rant, but now held up a hand. “Alright, alright, we get it.”

“But I’m serious.” Yuu insisted. “Just think about it, how much we behave like a triangle, how the sides are always supporting each other. Setsuna-chan, your passion keeps Ayumu and I motivated to do our best. And Ayumu, your reliability helps keep Setsuna-chan and I grounded so we don’t lose ourselves to our hobbies.”

“And Yuu-san’s support helps Ayumu-san and I keep our confidence throughout the day.” Setsuna concluded.

“Yeah, something like that.” Yuu nodded.

“Wait…” Ayumu spoke up. “Why do I get the negative one?”

“Negative?” Yuu tilted her head to the side questioningly.

“You two are positives with passion and support, but it sounds like I’m somehow keeping you from having fun?”

“That’s not what I meant at all, Ayumu.” Yuu shook her head. “By reliable and grounded, I meant that you’re kinda like a guide or a navigator or… Oh, I know, it’s like we’re a boat out on the ocean. Setsuna-chan is the engine or propeller that drives us forward and you’re the steering wheel or rudder that keeps us on an even keel. Can’t get to your destination all that well if you’re just drifting aimlessly without power or navigation. I know I’d still be drifting aimlessly through general studies if you two hadn’t been around to help power and navigate my journey through my music course.”

Ayumu smiled as the newer analogy resonated with her. However, “You left yourself out again, Yuu-chan.”

“I did? Oh… uhm, I’m… hrm…”

“Yuu-san is the hull that keeps us afloat.” Setsuna offered.

“The hull?” Yuu scrunched her nose.

“You’re definitely our hull, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu agreed.

“Alright, I suppose maybe I am the hull.” Yuu conceded with a sigh. “Although,” her gaze landed on Ayumu for a moment before settling on Setsuna “I don’t think I’m quite as buoyant as either of you.”

What did she mean by… Ayumu realized where Yuu was looking. “Yuu-chan!” She scolded, feeling herself blush.

Yuu burst out laughing. However, the bout only lasted a moment before setting off lingering hangover effects.

“Setsuna-chan, you should finish buttoning up.” Ayumu said, moving toward the other girl.

“Huh?” Setsuna looked down to find that in her haste to get dressed earlier, she had only secured two buttons on her shirt. Thus, from her position on her hands and knees, she had apparently been providing Yuu with a rather voluptuous view. “Eeeehhh?” She rocked back to sit on her legs and began fumbling with the fasteners.

“Here, let me get that.” Ayumu offered, reaching over the secure the buttons with a dexterity unhindered by a hangover. However, despite the action having begun in good faith, Ayumu found it difficult to resist stealing her own glimpse. Well… maybe if she wasn’t as blatant as Yuu…

“T-Thank you, Ayumu-san.”

“Sorry, Setsuna-chan.” Yuu offered. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you that much.”

“It’s fine…” Setsuna decided after a moment. “It’s not like you didn’t already see it all last night…”

“We’ve also visited hot springs together like a dozen or so times.” Yuu pointed out. “Anyway, still have any doubts, Ayumu?”

Did she still have doubts? She knew Yuu was right when she said that relationships were not easy, and whatever difficulties two might have, three would have to face that much more. But also, as Yuu had said, she was willing to do that work. And there was no doubt in her mind that Yuu and Setsuna would put forth the same effort. Because they all wanted the same thing, to be happy together.

Ayumu shook her head. “No. I’m just… really happy right now.”

“Good. And I’m happy as…” Yuu was interrupted by a yawn. “Ughn… either of you two remember what time we went to sleep last night? It feels like we woke up too early or something.” She yawned again. “Well, good thing it’s the weekend so I can take a nap.” She turned and started climbing onto Ayumu’s bed. “Either of you want to join me?”

“Do you think another hour will help with my headache?” Setsuna asked, crawling toward the bed.

“It should.” Ayumu replied, following the others. “Huh? Yuu-chan?” She found herself blocked from taking her former position as Yuu had already made it to the wall side of the bed.

With only a smile and a gentle touch on the arm, Yuu guided Ayumu down between herself and Setsuna. Oh, so sleeping arrangements were going to rotate like when they watched anime and idol videos together. She dismissed a thought that such a thing may not be best for one’s sleep cycle as she decided the three of them could discuss it if it became an issue, or they may just figure it out intuitively, like they did with their anime viewing.

Emerald eyes entered her field of vision. “I love you, Ayumu.” Yuu said quietly before pressing her lips gently against hers. Then as quickly as she appeared, she retreated.

Her mind barely had time to register the event before eyes of cendrée appeared. “I love you too, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna said in a similar volume before also pressing her lips to hers.

Ayumu stared upward in a surprisingly satisfying stupor as the other two exchanged affections above her. No flare of jealousy or laments of being left out disturbed her as she watched contently. She basked in the warmth as Yuu and Setsuna settled down on either side of her, taking her arms into theirs. She was happy. Very happy. And she realized she should probably tell them that.

“I love you two, Yuu-chan, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu murmured.

Two pairs of eyes snapped open to stare at her. Was it really that surprising? Oh… wait… was that the first time she had said that to them? Certainly, it wasn’t the first time she had thought it, but… oh dear… Perhaps she should apolo…

Two smiles creased two sets of lips. Likely since they had already given voice to their feelings, the other two remained quiet. Setsuna tightened her embrace for a moment before nuzzling into Ayumu’s shoulder. For her part, Yuu shifted her hold so she could slide her hand down into Ayumu’s and intertwined their fingers.

No. No apology was necessary. They knew. And they accepted and loved Ayumu for who she was, even if this was the first time she had said as such in return for all the times they had told her.

Ayumu closed her eyes, took a deep breath and released it slowly. There would be plenty of time for her to give more voice to her feelings later. For now, it was time to relax and enjoy a peaceful slumber, snuggled between the two girls she loved.

This triangle would definitely be different.

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Amare #Love Live Nijigasaki #no idea if that's the right ship tag...#may have to change it later #or add alternate versions #like with yohariko and yoshiriko #to which i should probably add yohariri at some point...

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simpingforthisonedeer · 4 years

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Chapter 5: Knife To The Neck

Summary: The aftermath of an assassination attempt; Meet Arthur; Everyone's simping for Julius except Holly(she aint buying his shit); There's a world organization or two; oop there's fae and some more magic lore; what??? is?? Julius??; someone who likes to edge himself apparently; magic paintings and shit, man; also more forbidden magic shtuff :)))

Notes: There's NSFW Julius and Aika art under the "Julius & Aika" tag and julius thirst from urs truly on my page ;)))) This chapter was gonna be like 10k words long but i didn't wanna scare yall off so have half of it ;))) Oh, and uhhh most chapters will have some explicit here and sometimes the whole chapter will be explicit like the next chapter is going to be a fuckfest O.o (what did you think Julius meant when he said "hOlD mE") So, if you're not into that, I don't suggest reading this fic lmao but hey, if you are, please continue ;)))

“Oh my fucking god, we all nearly died.”

“Mom!” Holly threw her arms around Aika and buried her face in her neck. She wrapped her arms and held her daughter tightly as her head spun.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, holding back tears, further exacerbating the growing headache.

Julius kneeled next to the pair and laid a comforting hand on Aika’s head, unwilling to interrupt their moment.

“It’s okay, everyone’s fine,” Holly assured.

“Yes, but you had to—”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t actually scared. Remember what you told me? You told me to think logically if I ever feel scared and logically speaking, the moon is up tonight and dad would’ve been fine. The man needed me alive to leverage me so I would be fine too.”

“I think I would’ve felt better if you blamed me instead of growing up so quickly,” Aika grumbled.

Julius let out a laugh, drawing attention to himself. She untangled herself from Holly and scanned him for any injuries.

“Are you alright, Julius?”

He waved her off and rubbed his eyes. “Besides the impending headache from the monster of a report I would have to write, I’m fine,” He looked at them intently. “You all need a security detail if this really is a common occurrence.”

“Oh! That won’t work!” Holly piped up. “My dad and I don’t even live on this continent and mom’s always travelling or bothering Uncle Ray at work. It’s okay,” she gave him a thumbs up. “My mom can take care of herself. She’s really scary. My dad and her friends are too. That’s why you shouldn’t hold her hand. If anyone fin—”

“Holly!” Aika exclaimed in horror, her cheeks inflamed with embarrassment. She threw an apologetic look at Julius. “He’s a Magic Knight Captain. He can take care of himself.”

“Ohhhh. That’s why he smells so much,” she muttered to herself, nodding as if everything made sense.

“What!” Julius whipped his head around, trying to check himself.

“Holly, no!” Aika stifled her laughs as she tried to catch his attention.

“You don’t smell, Julius. My daughter has Magic Synesthesia. Please forgive her. She’s just trying to say you have a lot of mana.”

He let his jaw drop in awe. That was an incredibly rare and fascinating condition! People with Magic Synesthesia were incredibly sensitive to magic, detecting unique mana from incredibly long distances. In fact, the world’s most famous bounty hunters and trackers had some form of Magic Synesthesia.

“Wait, really?! Then what do I smell like?”

Aika was going to stop Holly before she said something offensive again but it was too late.

“You smell like a warm, jelly-filled pączki in the middle of a lightning storm. It’s a good smell. It’s cold and warm at the same time,” she sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “But it barely covers the whiskey smell.”

“Oh, that was what the sweet smell was,” Aika nodded to herself, not unlike her own daughter. She rather liked pączki…

Holly narrowed her eyes at her mom. She has good magic sense with her nose too but she has to be really close to smell something distinct like that. When did she get so close to him?

“WOW! That’s amazing, could you tell me—”

“I’m glad you lot are still alive.”

The trio turned towards the front of the house as a handsome, black-haired man with glittering, emerald eyes stepped into the moonlight as he rolled his bleeding shoulder with a groan. He tossed his braid behind him and raised his brows at Julius.

“Did that handsome Magic Knight over there take that assassin out?”

Julius blushed furiously as this man, whom he was assuming was Arthur, winked salaciously at him.

“Listen here, you useless himbo.”

Holly stifled her giggles as her mom tore into her dad. It would get funnier when she realizes he was drunk too.

“You had one job and that was to keep Holly safe. An assassin throws some iron at you and you fall like a bag of bricks? It’s a freaking miracle you’re still alive after all these years.”

Arthur shrugged and winced at the pain.

“Your concern is touching, but what can I say? The Gods don’t want me and the Devil isn’t done with me. I’ll live.”

Aika rolled her eyes as she stood up and Julius with her.

“But really, what happened to the assassin?”

Julius ran a hand through his hair as he spoke up.

“The assassin had explosive runes on his chest and inside of his mouth. He already activated the runes so Aika threw him high and I contained the explosion. It was the only way.”

“Woah, he has a nice voice too.”

Holly groaned internally. Not her dad too.

“Dad.”

“Sorry, that was rude.” Suddenly he was in front of Julius, bowing as he took his hand. “My name is Arthur. What’s yours?”

Aika slapped his hand away as Julius looked on in shock.

“Don’t answer that question, Julius,” she said seriously as she threw a warning look at Arthur’s way. He shouldn’t use his fae magic if he doesn’t want to bring unwanted attention to himself. With that sentence alone, she made sure Arthur knew Julius’ name indirectly and thwarted his plan to assume control of the unsuspecting man. Trust him to think with his dick.

Holly groaned out loud this time. She didn’t understand what the weird tension between the three was, but it was disgusting. She shook her head as she walked back into the house. She didn’t want to be there if they got worse.

Arthur’s eyes flickered up to his forehead where the star lay on his forehead in interest.

Is this the Time mage she was looking for?

His eyes slid down to Julius’ chest as he subtly reached out with his mana. He noticed that this man seemed to be hiding a significant portion of his mana and wore the Grey Deers crest.

Oh, lord. Is he that Magic Knight Captain?

“Holy shit, you’re that Captain no one knows the attribute about. Good thing that, considering the Pascere Syndicate went through so much effort to cover up Aika’s Time Magic,” he added.

“The Pascere Syndicate?” Julius frowned. He heard about them. “You mean the Assembly of Nations?” He knew he would have to attend at least one of their conventions after he gets appointed the Wizard King. It was a giant committee that sought to maintain peace, prevent magical wars and forbidden rituals on a global-scale that could destroy the world.

And wait, cover up Time Magic? How does he know that I have Time Magic?

“Yeah, them. You’ve been doing a good job of covering up your Time magic so far,” he said, looking pointedly at his forehead. “but please try not to catch any unwanted attention from the international community,” Arthur laughed nervously. The last time that happened...Oh, he did not want to think about it. He didn’t particularly care if there was another Time Mage, especially since it looked like Julius kept his low-key, but people who would want to use it for themselves often took down many in their path to get it.

Julius nodded hesitantly at the unexpected advice.

“I’ll keep that in mind...”

“What are you doing here in the countryside anyways? Isn’t there a war going on?”

“He was just escorting me home,” Aika said as glared at Arthur. She slowly wrapped a possessive arm around Julius’ waist. He looked at her with a pleased grin and pulled her closer to his side.

Arthur’s mouth dropped into an “o” when he realized what they were actually here for and threw a knowing smirk at them.

Seems like the Time mages are getting along quite nicely…

He laughed as he slapped Julius’ back jovially but immediately recoiled. He quickly covered that up as if he was rolling his shoulders at the expense of the sharp pain that shot through his body. He willed his beating heart to calm down as hysteria threatened to crawl up his buzzed brain.

What the hell was that?

“I’m so sorry, Julius,” Arthur stepped back with his arms raised. He nodded at Aika calmly, though his eyes were filled with no small amount of fear, hoping she would spot it.

She just threw a grateful look at him and shared a smile with Julius. Arthur’s shoulders slackened an inch when he saw genuine affection in their eyes. Oh. That was surprising...

But whatever it was, he needed to get Holly away from here. He needed to leave anyway due to the custody contract and someone will notice the assassin gone and will investigate. Whatever this Time mage was, he was trouble too.

“I’ll take Holly home and bring her around tomorrow afternoon,” he declared with forced nonchalance. “Holly!” he called out. “Come on, dear! We’re leaving!”

“Wait, I need a statement from you two,” Julius stepped forward officiously, choosing to ignore his bizarre behavior for now. He had noticed how Arthur let go of him and the way his eyes shook in their sockets as he looked at Aika as if to warn her. He seemed scared of Julius all of a sudden, but whatever it was, he needed to get a word from them before they leave. Plenty of time to investigate later.

“Could you please explain how a foreign assassin got to Hage?”

Aika reached out and touched Arthur’s arm to heal it. He smiled tightly as he answered,

“Holly and I were exploring the continent—because it was our week off,” Arthur quickly explained when Aika opened her mouth to berate him again. “and we were in the Spade Kingdom touring your alma mater,” He motioned at Aika. “when the assassin, who had been tailing us the whole time, finally found an opportunity. We realized too late and were going to teleport away but he caught up to us as we ported here and there was a little scuffle,” Holly jogged back to her father’s side, unamused. “I got injured, Holly was restrained and held hostage for approximately an hour, then you two came along and you know the rest of the story,” he finished as he rushed at the end. He really needed to leave. He was getting antsy to get Julius away from Holly.

“Ah, thank you, Arthur!” Julius took his hand and Arthur suppressed a shudder at the wave of goosebumps and unnatural cold followed by warmth that settled over him.

Julius raised an eyebrow at the way he tensed and the distinctly different mana he was giving off.

That’s very interesting...

“It was really nice meeting you two,” He expressed sincerely.

“Of course,” Arthur said lowly, injecting false flirtatiousness into his tone. He needed to stay in character.

“Aika, can I speak with you for a moment before we go?” His hand twitched as he reached for Holly. He didn’t want to leave her but he needed to avoid suspicion.

“Of course!” She turned to Julius and quickly pecked his cheek. Arthur’s anxiety shot up. “I’ll be right back Julius,” she said as he grinned sheepishly. Holly rolled her eyes at the display and crossed her arms across her chest.

Arthur squared his shoulders as Aika silently led them to a tree on the front yard. He needed to warn her.

She turned to him with a raised brow.

“Is everything alright?”

Arthur shot a cautious look at Julius. “No, it’s not. Your new boytoy isn’t human.”

She threw a sharp look at him. “First of all, don’t call him ‘my boytoy’ and second of all, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that he doesn’t have a heart. His heartbeat is fake.”

“Oh, I knew that.”

“What? ”

Aika crossed her arms. “I had my lips to his pulse. His heart was supposed to be beating quickly at that moment, but at the speed he was going, he was either having a heart attack or he was orgasming,” she rolled her eyes. “But we got interrupted before we could even get that far. So yeah, his heartbeat is fake. So what? That doesn’t make him inhuman. His blood still flows, I can assure you that,” she added smugly.

Arthur shook as he stifled a smile. “Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that his mana is completely different from normal humans.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, forbidden magic can make a human mana seem inhuman. He doesn’t have any weg,” her eyes widened. “But didn’t I say that the seal on my forehead could double as a seal for weg?”

“Forget about forbidden magic!” he hissed. “Okay, he’s not as straight-laced as he looks. Okay, whatever, but I know how forbidden magic feels like on a person. This isn’t forbidden magic, it feels more lighter, and it’s not elf magic either. What kind of magic allows you to not have a beating heart, and feel light and dangerous?”

Aika’s cheek twitched. “Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll keep an eye on him. But I think you’re worrying about nothing. He’s had many opportunities to cause any harm but he hasn’t. He was actually really gentle and vulnerable with me. He is also a respected Magic Knight who is on his way to becoming Wizard King.”

“I know and it looks like he may have some rather large skeletons in his closet.”

“Arthur, we all do,” Aika sighed heavily. “Look, he is good. I can assure you that. You know what he wants to do when he is Wizard King? He wants to end classist discrimination in Clover Kingdom and he was genuine about it. Look, I’m surrounded by liars and I can smell one from a mile away. He hasn’t lied to me.”

“Yet.”

She growled in annoyance. “Are you worried about me or something?”

“Am I worried about the mother of my child? Yes, and I still stand by the fact that he doesn’t feel remotely human.”

“You’re not human either, idiot. I don’t care if he isn’t. I mean, as long as he isn’t conspiring anything malicious, I don’t have any problem with him being not-human and/or using forbidden magic,” she snorted. “I’d be a hypocrite if I did.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it for now,” Arthur shook his head. Maybe she’ll see some sense after she’s had her way with him. He smirked at her.

“I guess you would be biased,” he quirked his eyebrow knowingly. “I see you eye-fucking him.”

“Oh, please as if I’d let that cloud my judgement and besides,” she threw a long look at Julius on his knees as he talked to their daughter. “As soon as you two leave, that wouldn’t be the only thing I would’ve done by the end of the night.”

Arthur relaxed a bit. While his instincts screamed that Julius was hiding something about himself, it doesn't necessarily mean he’s hiding something heinous or harmful. If anything were to happen, he believed that she could take care of herself.

“Be careful, and if you two continue your little tête-à-tête and you’re still alive, let me join sometime,” he winked as he added playfully.

“Oh, come on. The last time we both got into the same bed, you came out at the end of it looking like you lost a fist fight.”

He stuck his tongue out childishly. “Too bad I’m into that.”

He dodged as she smacked his arm with an indulgent laugh.

Julius kneeled in front of Holly with a forbearing smile.

“I really like your mom,” he admitted plainly. She scoffed derisively, all manners to the wind.

“Did I do anything to offend you? If so, could I do anything to fix it?”

“All of them are like that,” she snarled bitterly as looked at her nails. “Your type only likes my mom because she’s pretty and nothing else,” Holly braced herself, ready to cut him down if he moved to attack her, but he only stayed silent. She looked up to see Julius looking at her mom by the tree with a smile that threatened to overtake his face.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he agreed as he tore her eyes from her to look at Holly. “And she’s kind of scary too. She has a mean hook,” he huffed as he looked at Aika from the corner of his eye. “But she’s super smart and really cool. She knows a lot about magic and I want to learn from her. I want to work with her and the time I spent with her so far has been... freeing ,” he admitted shyly. “I want to know more about her and I want us to get along because you are her daughter and she loves you a lot. One day, I hope she could even show me a sliver of that love,” Julius sighed deeply. “Could you please tell me what she likes or where she might want to go?” He looked at her pleadingly. “I’d love to take her on a date.”

Holly stared at him, eyes as wide as saucers. The lump in her throat made it hard for her to breath. No one’s ever talked about her mom like that to her face…

“Um,” she squeaked as tears gathered at the edge of her eyes. Holly looked up and blinked rapidly, willing them to go away. All of her mom’s past lovers have always avoided her because she wasn’t their daughter. No one’s really come up to her and told her that they sincerely liked her mom. They might have loved her but she didn’t know and she didn’t understand it anyway. But the way Julius looked away at her mom while Holly composed herself made her chest constrict.

She cleared her throat, bringing his attention back to her. He looked at her searchingly to make sure she was ‘okay.’

“Sh-she likes to stay in during winters with hot cocoa and blankets and just talk. She likes to listen to people talk about their day,” Holly breathed in deeply. If he was sincere, and if he would continue to look at her mom like that, then she could afford to help him a bit. “If you want to get her something, don’t . But if you really want to, make her something, like food or a bracelet or something like that. She likes personal things like that.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

They both turned their heads when Aika and Arthur burst out laughing. Jealousy shot through Julius when Arthur laid a hand on Aika’s shoulder.

“Say...How close are your mom and dad?”

Holly shrugged. “They’re best friends. There’s not much to say besides that,” she raised a brow at him. “But if you’re asking if they like each other that way, I’d say ‘no.’”

Julius nodded, slightly relieved, and stood up as the grinning pair made their way to them.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“He was just keeping me entertained,” Holly quickly covered as Julius threw a grateful smile at her.

Aika and Arthur shared a disbelieving look. Their daughter was good at lying, but she wasn’t going to fool them , her teachers.

“Thank you, Julius,” Arthur said, looking better than he did before. Aika walked and stood next to Julius as she laced her fingers with his. Holly quickly hugged her mom and took her father’s hand.

“We’ll take our leave,” he said quietly and nodded at the two with a wink. “Have fun.”

“Bye!” Holly chirped before they vanished from sight.

“They didn’t have to leave at my expense,” Julius began as he turned to Aika with a neutral smile. She waved him off and looped an arm with him as she led them back to her house.

“They didn’t leave because of you,” she tightened her hold on him. “They left because of the custody contract. Holly can only visit me during weekends, holidays and extenuating circumstances. After that, she has to leave.”

“Arthur is very nice for a fae,” Julius said nonchalantly. He caught Aika as she stumbled over her own feet.

“What? How did you—”

“He wanted your firstborn, apparently iron is deadly to him going by your words, you stopped me from saying my name directly, his mana was not human and you have a pact with him; All clues point to him being fae. I wasn’t really sure because he recovered from the iron but your reaction confirms my suspicions,” he grinned in satisfaction as she stared at him in shock.

“I-Yeah, I mean you guessed right.” It made sense how quickly he connected the dots. Julius was going to be the Wizard King for a reason.

He leaned forward with an excited grin. “So your daughter is half-fae right? Does that mean she has two attributes? One is Spatial Magic, what is the other one? Can I ask Arthur questions about him being fae if I ever see him again?”

Aika stared at him for a moment, completely caught off guard by the cute expression on his face.

“Her other attribute is Sun Magic and y-yeah, you can,” she looked away with a blush. She really needed a sober-up potion. Julius tilted her face back with a finger and slotted his lips against Aika’s tenderly, much to her shock. She stared at his closed eyes and thick eyelashes and melted into the kiss and cradled his face. Their lips moved slowly and patiently against each other until they reluctantly pulled back to breathe.

Julius leaned his forehead against her’s. “Could I ask you a few more questions for my report,” he asked breathily against her lips.

“Of course,” Aika whispered back.

They linked hands with a shared smile and walked up the stony path to the house. He opened the door for her as she asked,

“Where did you learn to speak Greek?”

“My father and stepmother are children of Greek immigrants. I grew up speaking Greek and Latin,” he answered as he handed off his cloak and cape to her. That little information about his stepmother piqued her interest.

“Woah, that’s really cool!”

“Where did you learn?”

“I was in Athens for a few months, picked up the language on the go.”

“Wow! You were in Greece?”

“I’ve been everywhere,” Aika answered with a proud smile as she hung the cape and cloak on the coat rack. “I’m going to go wash my feet. Could you please take out the sober-up potions from the cabinet left of the kitchen sink for us?”

Julius nodded as she took a turn down a hallway off to the side. He examined the living room more carefully. It was modestly decorated with a few bronze accents pieces and dark brown furniture, but the walls were decorated with landscape and abstract paintings by Aika’s father. Some were of a view he would expect to see outside a cabin in the middle of the woods or at the edge of the sea and some were chaotic depictions of fire, water, lightning and metal curling around each other, tightly linked and unwilling to let go.

He shook his head and strode into the kitchen as he went over the questions he was going to ask. As he reached for the cabinet where he assumed Aika kept her potions, he was hit with a wave of unnatural dread from the window above the kitchen sink. He strained his eyes to look outside in curiosity and extended his mana zone in the direction of the backyard. His dread increased when he detected recent activity of forbidden magic. It was like a parasite that crawled over scorched Earth and flowers which surprisingly thrived despite the oppressive mana. It was all Aika’s magic.

His chest tightened at the thought of her doing forbidden magic but Julius could feel it so vividly. She had been doing forbidden magic. He wondered how he couldn’t feel it on her…He took out the potion and swallowed it thickly as any warm feeling he had of her shriveled up and died. He blinked as his vision grew clearer and leaned heavily against the kitchen countertop. He had such high hopes.

“Boo.”

Julius immediately pivoted on his heel, fingers pointed at Aika’s neck as they sparked with mana. She stared at him, fresh-faced as she cocked her head.

“You’re under arrest for the use of forbidden magic,” he growled as he glared at her. Her eyes lit up in understanding and smiled cryptically.

“That’s kind of hot,” she giggled as her hand traveled up his tense chest.

“Wh—” And before he could finish his sentence, he was slammed against the wall, his wrists crossed and pinned above his head. He forgot she was Time Mage too. She could be just as fast as him.

Aika breezily opened her potions cabinet and downed the sober-up potion.

Julius strained against the invisible, hand-like force on his wrists to no avail. She flipped a dining table chair around with a flourish and leisurely sat on it as she crossed her legs, looking like the very image of grace as she adjusted her skirt.

“Does Master Raymond know you use forbidden magic?” He spat as he struggled to uncross his wrists. Julius flared his mana threateningly as he activated mana skin but even then he couldn't break the bonds holding him. She quirked an eyebrow at him as she answered his question.

“Know?” she cocked her head at him. “He sanctions it.” Aika supressed a smile as Julius stilled in shock. “I’m sure you had questions about how I knew the forbidden runes on Sven’s body. A better question would be how you, a Magic Knight Captain, knew.”

Julius stayed silent as they both stared at each other, wearing equally neutral expressions.

“I like to read,” he finally said.

“Oh no, I knew that already. The question is why you would be reading about forbidden runes.”

“I could ask you the same,” Julius said, his expression icy and eyes that were dull to the point where they seemed black in the dim torchlight of the kitchen.

Aika raised her hands as she shrugged. “I’m an open book. I’ll tell you where I learned if you tell me.”

He jerked against the restraints one more time before he slackened in defeat.

He sighed. “There’s a secret section of the Royal Library,” he growled, refusing to elaborate further.

“Oh, is that all?” Aika sighed in relief. She read everything in there already and it only had elementary books on forbidden subjects. “If that’s where you learned then that’s okay. It would be a problem if you were actually interested in forbidden magic and sought after it in other places,” Aika nodded as she crossed her arms.

“I learned forbidden magic in the Spade Nation War College for four years since I was 16. That was almost twenty years ago,” she explained as she hugged herself. She smiled wickedly when Julius’ eyes strayed downwards to her chest.

“Did you know,” Aika began as his eyes flickered up to her’s with an embarrassed blush. “That using forbidden magic and having weg is a symbol of power in the rest of the world? It’s taboo on this continent only because someone opened the Qliphoth Tree over 600 years ago and let out a lot of demons into the world. The rest of the world actually still hates the Four Suits continent because of that,” she shook her head with a wry smile. “It’s no matter,” she leaned forward as if she was going to tell him a secret.

“I’m not particularly a patriot or a nationalist—I’ve been around the world way too many times to be one—but serving the Wizard King was and is a pleasure. I do forbidden magic for the Wizard King. I keep my hands dirty so the Wizard King doesn’t have to—but that doesn’t mean Master Raymond’s hands are entirely clean,” she snorted as she said, “He did choke the life out of an entire army with their own blood and drown another. Did you know that he’s known as The Leviathan around the world for that?”

“Just because Master Raymond sanctions it, doesn’t mean it’s legal. Using forbidden magic means losing your humanity.”

“Yeah, if you don’t use it carefully. There are safeguards against that but there are some rituals where you can’t avoid that. But if you mean losing your emotions, I mean it happens, again, if you’re not careful. And besides, it’s legal if you have a license, and guess what? I have a license. I’ve saved lives with forbidden magic and if you try to have it revoked, you will be hard-pressed by many factions ready to defend me.”

Julius sighed and closed his eyes in relief. In order to be approved for a license, it takes years of thorough background checks, psychiatric evaluations and high-level government who "okayed" it. If she’s been approved, then she can be trusted. “You could’ve just said that. Please let me go. I won’t attack you.”

She giggled as she shook her head. “Sorry, I just felt like monologuing like a villain,” she said as she winked.

Julius laughed as he looked up at his restraints. “Could you please let me go?”

Aika’s languid eyes roved over his stretched out form. “No, I don’t think I will,” her lips twitched up into a suggestive smirk. “I rather like the view.”

A thrill shot through Julius as he resisted the urge to squirm. Her predatory gaze wasn’t doing anything to help the burning heat growing in his lower belly.

“CAPTAIN!”

They both jumped as a screen materialized in front of Julius’ face.

“What-Where have you been? The meeting was over hours ago! Why are your hands above your head like that?!”

“Marx! Ah, I am just stretching my arms,” he laughed nervously. Aika let go of her hold on him with a silent laugh. She couldn’t see who this Marx character was but she spared Julius the indignity of someone witnessing him being tied up like that.

Julius dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders as he smiled wide.

“I’m kind of busy right now, Marx. I have no doubt that the squad is up right now partying their Friday night. Well, tell them to party harder because tonight is that last night before we begin preparing for the final battle! By this time Saturday, we either win or lose the war.”

“The final battle? Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, I am, Marx. Join your friends or just relax because tomorrow, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Yes, sir...Aren’t you coming back to the base? You could look at Magic later, sir…”

“I’ll be there,” he smiled kindly. “but don’t expect me.”

“You could look at magic later! You have to inform the squad yourself now! A final battle? I can’t even begin to imagine what we need to start preparing!”

Julius raised his hands as he cringed from his berating.

“I’ll be there soon as soon as I can!”

“Alright, you better be!”

The screen fizzled out and Julius pressed a hand to his chest and exhaled in relief. Aika found it strange, for a passing moment, that he was still making gestures as if he had a heart that could beat.

“Oh, that was embarrassing,” Julius huffed as he leaned his head back against the wall.

“You should go, you know,” she said softly.

He gasped dramatically and pouted as he strode to where she sat.

“You want to get rid of me already?” he asked as he cocked his head down at her. She tugged him hard onto her lap but he readily straddled her legs and threw arms around her shoulders as they both looked at each other challengingly.

“I think you know the answer to that,” she whispered and leaned forward to nip at his exposed neck. “But you shouldn’t slack off work for my sake.”

“I’m just letting my squad have one night off before I work them to death.” Julius squirmed as Aika bit harder. He slowly knotted his hands in her hair and pulled gently. She hummed as her hands slid from his hips down to his ass and squeezed as he moaned.

“Who knew that a man of your stature, and the future Wizard King could be so submissive. ” She slid a hand down his front and cupped him through his pants. Julius shamelessly humped against her hand with a whine, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He buried his face in her shoulder as he panted.

“I’m expected to be the opposite,” he admitted breathily. “But it was quite nice when you took the initiative.”

Aika brought her hands up to his face with an amused twitch of her lips and pecked at the little dimple at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, you are absolutely adorable. How could I not?”

He shook his head with an embarrassed grin and looked around and his jaw dropped at the framed painting that covered most of the kitchen’s West wall. It was gigantic but he didn’t notice it in his lust-filled haze.

“Holy—That’s amazing! Did your father paint that?” Aika nearly groaned out loud when he jumped off her lap and moved closer to the painting to examine it closely.

It was a small, raven-haired boy caught mid-dance as the rain and wind swept his hair and clothes as lightning curled around him. The stormy sky in the background was lit with stray lightning and some even seemed to strike the ground around him. Julius couldn’t help but gape at the magic depicted so delicately and with such detail. He could almost feel the mana through the canvas.

Aika studied the little boy’s face with a sad smile as she stood next to him.

“Yeah, he did. We caught my brother summoning storms again when he was 10 and gained full control of his magic. My father found the scene very picturesque so he spent months painting and perfecting it. ”

Julius stared, starry-eyed as he touched the lightning on the boy’s cheek.

“He was summoning storms at 10? He must be a really strong mage now! Where’s your brother now? Why have I never heard of such a strong lightning mage in the Magic Knights? Didn’t you say he wanted to be Wizard King?”

“Oh, my brother’s in the backyard right now,” she said casually as she willed her face to stay neutral.

“In the backyard?” he craned his head to look out the window. “At this time? What’s he doing?”

“Staying dead.”

Julius clamped one hand over his mouth to stop an inappropriate guffaw from bursting out. He let his hand fall and pursed his lips as Aika continued.

“The painting is called ‘The Symphony of the Lightning God,’” she continued as she motioned at the painting with a giggle.

“I-I see,” he snorted. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me.”

She sniggered. “No, it’s perfectly fine. My brother told me to make that joke.”

“He told you? When did he die?”

Aika paused. “Over 23 years ago...He was thirteen and I was sixteen…”

Julius’s face grew somber as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“I’m sorry...I’m sure you miss him…”

She snorted. “No, I don’t. I saw his dumbass yesterday. What do you think the forbidden magic in the backyard was?”

“Huh?”

#julius novachrono #black clover #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono x oc #julius x reader #oc: aika tolliver #julius & aika #they gon fuck next chapter dont worry ;)

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 33

“Ooh, this is nice.” You said inspecting the couch in the furniture store you had stopped at making Richard smirk knowing it’d fit with the armchair he had picked from the second hand shop to go with the old cabinet you had found he was curious as to why the doors and drawers wouldn’t open. That would be a project to distract him on nights you were gone back to train in New York, breaking that cabinet you adored into submission. One by one the boxes were ticked off the list of furniture to be gotten along with dishes he smirked in the teal and grey theme you chose to go with the wine glasses he wanted with silverware and knives to match. Nice and cozy you broke the apartment in arranging everything nicely for him with a very loving evening to part with for the taxi ride to fly back in time for your table read.

“Do you know how to juggle?” You asked once inside the salon to the woman behind the counter who shrieked in response noticing just who had arrived for their appointment alerting Cher and Lucy.

“There you are Lady Pear!” Cher said smiling on her way over as you stepped from the counter.

Lucy said, “Now our girl I do believe we are in for some more fun. And just what was Madge shrieking about?”

“Oh, do you remember who can juggle I need some lessons.”

Cher, “You need to talk to Emma then. I’ll give her a call. She’s in Jersey though visiting family when do you need the lessons by?”

“Well I’d like to get started soon, but I have some months before I’m set to film for that role. Up to Canada next week again then I have some premiers here then I’m off to England, won’t be filming till late spring for the juggling role. I’d pay-,”

Lucy shook her head after your trade of hugs saying, “Not a matter of money. Though by your skill I’m sure a couple tries and you could master it on your own after that by practice alone.”

Cher asked, “What role is this one now? Another sideshow based film?”

“It’s the King Kong remake, they have some Vaudeville scenes I wear a suit and fake mustache and juggle. Do the whole kick your hat and catch it on your head trick, might have to catch balls in it I’m juggling too, depending on what choreography we go for.”

Lucy, “Well you do amazing 20’s era, really have that whole doe eyes look they loved to flaunt and fake back then.”

“Thank you,” you said settling into the seat to be draped in a cape with Cher easing your hair out over your back after snapping the cape shut to your fingers clenching on the sleeves pooled into your palms.

Cher eased off her rings to ease through your curls saying, “I hear your film is doing well, off on Saturday and I am going to see it then, girls are under orders not to spoil it for me after prepping all week for the show tomorrow night.”

“That the costume one? Oh that’s always fun.”

Lucy smirked saying, “We could always use a guest judge.”

“That sounds like such fun, if you need me I’ll be there, could use some distraction with friends. Starting table reads in a few days.”

Cher smirked asking, “You don’t ever stop do you?” Making you giggle as she eyed the solution ingredients two aids brought over to the station while she and Lucy got to separating your hair into four sections.

“Real life energizer bunny at times feels like.”

Lucy said, “Now, ends first, and roots last since those lighten quicker.” Strip by strip they coated your curls making certain to get each ringlet in doing so to not miss any spots, foil covers for the tops of your ears were made to keep the bleach off them. The top half of your hair was next with roots done next from the bottom up using the long narrowed ends of the brushes to help divide the strips in a sort of grid. Closing your eyes however the itching was tolerated as it spread over your brows now coated in a thin layer of the bleach to match those closer to your new hair color. Up however you were helped to be taken to the rinse station, at which they carefully covered your eyes with a cloth to rinse your brows.

Cher, “This color is so pretty already.” Working the water through your hair as Lucy smoothed two drops of shampoo through your eyebrows Cher then rinsed out once she finished rinsing the solution from your hair allowing them to shampoo that as well. “Oh sugar this color is going to floor everybody. Still nice and chocolaty.”

Drying came next post conditioner rinse and up on the first chair again you settled watching your reflection to their towel drying task mingled with combing out knots before the blow dryers came out for the straightening ordeal aiding in the trimming of your ends to get it to the right length again. From boob level to chin surely your hair would spring up later and once paid you heard from one of the ladies that Emma would be at the show the following night. All morning to noon the appointment had stretched and when you finally got home you snapped a pair of polaroids of yourself and sent it off in a letter to the director for North and South to let them know on the shade your hair was now, one straightened and the other curly haired again. Giving them ample time to choose if you should lighten it more before filming or if that was a good shade to maintain.

Lee just about screamed lifting you into a hug excited on being a step closer to the filming while showing off the tips to his sideburns he had been asked to grow under his shaggy hair. And right beside you he sat at the club watching with a smile as you did the line of Drag Queens competing in an all out costume war thrilled to have you as a guest judge for the evening. Emma that morning had dropped by your place and with a trio of hackey sacks got to showing you the basics, having been a circus juggler before years prior used to juggling knives and flaming pins and such for talent portions on shows she took part in. True to the assumption roughly you had gotten the basics of juggling and with some practice you could easily master it. Daily with the balls she left with you you’d practice and weekly she’d come by to add in some more difficulty to the task to aid in whatever style of juggling they would ask you to do, promising to go over any others you would be asked to do after deciding on your routine.

Staring at the cabinet he’d hoisted down to the approved spots in the parking lot to the apartments assigned to you and Richard through your stay beside his rental he opened his tool chest and got to work on the cabinet. Around the back clearly marks of former tries to paint over the charred wood that clearly didn’t take the paint then sanded awkwardly he got to removing whatever coating they gave it with mask and clear glasses in place while he got to sanding the legs. Rough and chipped in a few places until he could wipe off the coatings to the body he smoothed those down and smiled after having added some wood putty to the deeper chips and gashes he would re-stain later.

Across the body the charred wood was a clue as to how the warping had come about and with the paint gone he caught sight of some hidden hinges he used to help wriggle some give in the front door until one of the doors slid out on the other end just enough for him to work a screw driver into it. Biting his lip carefully he wriggled the metal in the edge until an exhale worthy grunt like sound the wood gave in the door opening splitting a smile across his face. With that the second was opened, though view of the interior was not taken in full at the greeting from a neighbor on their way out for the day, returning the wave and good morning Richard chuckled in sharing a passing jest at picking up a second hand rebuild job, “See you picked up a diamond in the rough.”

“Oh ya, emphasis on rough. But my partner loved it, here’s to hopes I can get the drawers open too.” Chuckles were his answer with a wish of luck on their drop into their open car and Richard turned back to the open cabinet eyeing the somehow intact emerald velvet lined cubby beside three internal shelves with some odd papers and old pens inside.

With furrowed brows he pulled the top stack out of brittle old papers with ink well worn off, the remainder hinting at receipts with crests and names of the company long past readable. Each of the two mother of pearl and gold pens void of ink were tested on a bare notepad found on the second shelf he set under a spare wrench on the ground safe from the repair job. The third shelf with a silver folding frame with a black and white picture of a woman in a swing opposite a man in a suit with cane and hat in hand with a terrier tucked at his hip. Unable to help it he smirked and closed that adding it to the pile starting to use a small brush to try dusting off the velvet he would vacuum later before inspecting the drawer just below the lip under the belly of the cabinet.

Carefully again prying the seams with the screwdriver subtle wiggles enabled one inch to be managed. Enough for him to work his fingers in and jostle the sides enough to break whatever crud was stuck in the grooves locking the drawer in place to where he could not just ease it out but wiggle it off the groove allowing access to the second drawer as well. Excited and smiling again he sat on his stool with drawer on his lap eyeing the thin books he set aside with the papers from before his eyes fell to a brown paper wrapped parcel, lifting that he smiled in peeking inside to find a music rod for a music box he hoped to be in the second drawer. Old leather gloves too small for his hands could clearly be framed for display alone at their crafting he admired the style of. Both added to the pile to let him turn the drawer on end to use another brush to wipe out the grooves and see if the ends of the wood was warped and needed sanding to slide in and out smoother.

All the while that second drawer taunting him. Finally he got to wriggling this obstinate one free finding a metal money clip partly to blame wedged in the edge between the body of the cabinet and the side of the drawer that once freed eased out freely to be settled on his lap. The clip clearly bent beyond use was set down and his eyes fell to the glass topped music box stirring a pleased chuckle from him. “There you are,” he muttered lifting it and seeing inside a rod already. Setting that aside his focus turned to the handwritten note on the slip of paper above a worn advert for a play, softly he read the cursive French he could make out to himself taking in the meaning right away, a lover’s plot. “Call at five, something, something show, dinner at, The Grey Eagle?” Wetting his lips feeling his brows furrow unable to know if that was the right name or not. Then his eyes fell to the next line, “Ask the question, do not forget the ring.” The underlined and bolded letters for the second half made him chuckle to himself realizing this was a planned proposal. “Wonder how you managed old chap without your gloves.”

Again he wet his lips inspecting the play advert he set aside to eye the only thing left in the drawer, an odd indigo colored rock he lifted. “Hmm,” turning it over in hand his fingers clenched shut around it at his wide eyed notice of the split in the rock making him right it again and bring it closer to his face. Looking closely his palm eased open with his free fingers to settle around the top to lift it finding a hinge revealing the inner violet layer inside what his brain now classified as a geode box. Though those stones didn’t keep his focus long as the pair of rings drew his focus right off.

White gold bands, the female with a large emerald in the center rectangular with corners shaved off to allow the strips of diamonds around it accented by three sideways rectangular smaller emeralds shrinking in size down the band on either side. Heavy to lift on its own even without the geode he wondered how someone had forgotten about the pair in getting rid of this cabinet. However curiosity got the better of him and the male ring was inspected next. Another rectangular emerald, lined in white gold as were the other stones, each of which down the broader band like pyramids of two onyx stones surrounding diamonds, all in rectangular blocks for four layers on either side separated by similar thin white gold strips accenting each stone and their own beauty. Like the other he turned it over in hand feeling the heft of the clearly expensive beauty and chuckled seeing the word ‘spoon’ etched inside the band making him lift the other to find it there as well.

Placing both back into the rock he instinctually slid into his pocket he smiled getting back to work on the piece. Hinges were checked with doors sanded and ensured to open easily now with drawers tested to slide effortlessly as well before he got to giving the back of the cabinet another good sanding before staining the wood a deep mahogany how you had wanted around the decorative border to be left in its natural ashy tone. Once aired out and dry fully and he had carried the contents back upstairs he readied to take the cabinet back up on the dolly. With supplies cleared along with the tarp he used to keep the spot clean of any debris or stains as per the rules given by the landlord in the office who was pleased to see he’d been one to follow them.

All the same once it was settled back into place he photographed it and added that to the picture of the before pile from each angle then got to digging through the receipts again. with furrowed brows he used a torch to help write out what he could read off each until he got a name of a family he recognized from the remainder of a stationary pad. Horses, related to horse breeders up here in Canada he found the name Hercle Gibraltyr. To the phone book he went finding a number related to the eldest most notable relative certain to know of such a set of heirlooms missing and after about an hour of agitating reroutes to his call he finally got the bristly man himself on the line.

“What’s this about a ring purchased by myself?”

In French Richard replied, “No, Sir, my name is Richard Armitage. My Partner and I bought this cabinet at a shop and inside was some belongings. I found an old stack of papers with the name Hercle Gibraltyr on it. I was wondering if you might know about it?”

“Belongings? What sort of cabinet was it?”

“Just an old cabinet with some shelves and drawers in it, possibly from an office or sitting room.”

“Was it burned?”

“A bit charred on the back, yes.”

“Ah, must have been from his house then. After the fire his siblings pillaged the place and sold the rest. All you found was some receipts?”

“Receipts, some gold and pearl pens, a music box with a second song rod. Also some gloves and what looked to be plans of a proposal,” that had the man shifting in his seat making Richard’s chest clench a moment, “Along with this geode box with what look to be two expensive rings inside. Oh, and there’s a pair of photographs of a man and a woman in a silver folding frame, forgot that.”

“Emerald rings?”

“Yes sir, which was why I was calling. I’ve been researching rings for a time for my own partner and by their size they must be expensive and surely someone has missed them.”

A deep breath was taken and the man asked, “Would you be able to meet me somewhere today?”

“Yes, I’m free today.”

“You can keep the cabinet if you don’t mind bringing the things that were inside it.”

“Of course,” he said using his pencil from earlier to write the address to meet the stranger. Anxious beyond a doubt in a cloth messenger bag you had left there he settled it all carefully and shouldered it to get driving. It was a bit of a drive so he figured he could be early. And once at the upper scale bar he wet his lips and stepped out of his car he locked to approach the door where a bouncer seemed ready to kick him back off the curb until he gave his name that confirmed he was allowed to this exclusive establishment. Once inside a second man took his name and guided him to a glass encased side lounge decorated with black leather couches and tables to match with just the grey walls to offset the dim atmosphere even while the sun blazed its best outside between bouts of snow from days prior.

“Can I get you a drink?” A woman asked turning Richard around luring her grin out recognizing him in the drop of his coat onto the couch behind him.

“Soda, please?”

She nodded and without a word blushing her way back to the bar she went while he settled down onto one of the couches sighing in the internal screaming match with himself at how he was letting these perfect rings go knowing he could have easily kept them to propose the minute you got back to his arms again. Though earlier than he had expected the man who bid him here came strolling through the door. Silver hair brushed back with a suit putting Richard’s flannel and jean wearing self, with a pair of forced grins the men stood in the room closed off behind them by a second woman who had taken Jean’s order. In a shake of hands Jean said, “Thank you for meeting me so short notice.”

Richard shook his head, “No problem. Schedule is packed the rest of the week, this was our chance and I’d hate to have had to wait myself.” They sat and Richard opened the bag showing him the before pictures of the cabinet then got to bringing out the papers and pens along with the gloves. The former two Jean got to inspecting carefully. The music box and second rod was next, all unimpressive to Jean until the picture frame was out and Jean smiled in accepting the silver frame, “Ooh, poor great great uncle Hercule.” The playbill and to do list was next he chuckled at then looked to the geode box Richard offered in his palm.

“They are really beautiful, they’d be glad to have them back.”

Jean smirked saying, “Unfortunately he and his beloved Celeste passed ten years back. He had terrible luck all his life, absolutely adored Celeste, and she managed to help hold off the chaos of his life. He was successful with her at his side, used to tell me how a fire in his home office spoiled the perfect proposal he had planned while he was away in England. His family couldn’t find the right cabinet, as he built so many to try and perfect his household for Celeste’s taste and thought the rings he designed were lost to the flames. Though luckily for him,” he said lifting one of the two rings making him smirk at the engravings matching on both rings, “She preferred rubies and despised emeralds,” making Richard chuckle.

The doors opened and the blushing woman came back leaving their drinks on the table and backed out closing the doors again still smiling at Richard who said, “A bit lucky on that part then. Why spoon though?”

Jean chuckled saying, “When they met she was working in her family’s silver shop, polishing spoons. He always stopped in claiming he’d lost his stirring spoon for his tea, only wanted to speak to her. Had hundreds to pass down to their kids by the time they inherited his lot. How long have you and your Partner been together?”

“Few years now, bit rough at first, from different countries, we’re Mates actually, started talking online then managed to meet in person when she came to England for winter break. Took about a year to get settled into the long distance issue, but we’ve gotten used to working our schedules for time together between work.”

“I know the struggle, first two wives couldn’t handle my work, hated coming in second to my horses. I do hope that won’t be an issue for you both. Luckily my Mate and I are best friends and work so at least he helps to ground me between wives and moods.”

“Oh no, it won’t be. I’m making sure of it. Couple years back, there was this car that came barreling at her in the park, her friend saved her life,” parting Jean’s lips, “But our mark bruised and it terrified me to no end. Thought I lost her, and we were on bad terms at the time I’d been in such a foolish mood about the distance and just nothing. But I flew out and since I’ve changed my ways making certain to not let my doubts in the lowest moments of my moping when apart to cause a fight or anything to damage our relationship. Her dad approves, had been hinting he wants us to get married in the near future, given his approval, loves us together. So I’ve been looking at possible designs, though with the jumble of ideas from her cousins I’m likely to propose with a pebble and then drive her to a jewelers so she can pick for the both of us.”

Jean chuckled again and while they sipped on their drinks he got to sharing the dilemmas his exes had given him on the rings they ended up trading for others anyways. Leading to his third wife where he just sent the jeweler to the house while he was away on a work trip to design both of their rings to simplify matters. Which didn’t in the end as she resented him for not traditionally proposing to her. More stories were shared of the couple that brought the duo together until a call had Jean sighing and saying, “Work calls. It was a pleasure to meet you Richard, honestly I must say I am more interested in the papers, pictures, pens and gloves. You wouldn’t be interested in the music box would you?”

“Absolutely. Thank you, my Partner would love it.”

Jean chuckled and nodded gathering up the rest he added to his own briefcase still holding the rings while he brought out a pad and pen and began to write something down using of his own pens. One tear later and he passed the page to Richard encouraging his eyes to drop to it until Jean spoke offering the geode box parting Richard’s lips, “I want you to have these. You will make better use of them than I could. Perhaps unlike Hercule it might bring you and your partner some luck. With a receipt of your own. All their living triple great grandchildren wouldn’t appreciate them half as much as you would. Far beyond the roots their ancestors would have preferred and found themselves cut off, more likely to pawn them in any case. Have a good day.” Hands were shaken again. Richard’s hand molded around the geode box Jean got up and headed for the door easing those gloves from the cabinet onto his hands for a perfect fit, leaving the stunned actor in place, ears ringing in shock at the stunning gift.

Carefully he bagged up the receipt, music box and song rod pocketing the geode box again on his own way out leaving a bill to go with Jean’s on the table easing his coat back on readying for the chill outside. Once in the car he smirked turning the engine over feeling a chuckle freeing itself from his chest at the odd sense of relief washing over him. In moving the geode box from his pocket to the cup holder for a more comfortable drive curiously he lifted the male ring and found himself easing it onto his left ring finger for what would be a fated perfect fit.

Back towards the apartment he went stopping at a jewelers he had strolled past a few times days prior to renting the place here trying to build up courage to enter for some ideas. The place was quite upscale, surely out of his price range leading to his evident refusal to enter until he had a larger pool of funds tucked away to draw from. All the same he parked bringing the bag with him inside where that out of place feeling crept back up again.

Forcing a grin he caught the eye of two of the blondes in the shop along with the buzz cut bearing man in a suit who came over to handle the tall man and bring him a bit away from the redheaded upper class housewife here to have her ring resized. While designing a new necklace to go with her lavish collection at home to go with the new Bently outside. “How might I help you sir?” The man asked with a feigned grin of his own adjusting the top button on his suit jacket that was sitting a bit crooked on him from a sideways lean a few moments ago.

“Well two things really,” Richard said easing the geode box from his pocket, “I just found these heirloom rings,” easing the ring off his finger again to bring it with its partner into his vision lifting his brows at the pieces, “I was hoping to have them possibly cleaned up a bit and appraised.”

“You are wanting to sell them?”

“Oh no, I was planning on proposing to my Partner but I know her family will be wanting details on it for stone sizes and such.”

“Ah,” he said with a creeping grin now readying himself to aid in what could be a future client apparently on a rough day out in the country explaining the casual clothes and lack of suit. “All of that will be quite simple, and should not take long if you wished to wait here for the cleaning to be through.” He turned his head and another man from the back, his senior in the cleaning aspect of the job came to collect the rings and pause in simply testing the weight.

“Lovely rings, don’t find quality work like this anymore, where did you buy them?”

“Found them in an old cabinet I’m refurbishing actually. Great Great Uncle Hercule thought he lost them in a fire at his house but the drawers were just wedged shut.” The story just slipped out and in their eyes the glint of old money flashed evidently calming the duo even more that this customer had been doing repairs earlier and came right over to see to these heirlooms.

The salesman said, “The good sir here was wishing for a full disclosure of quality and clarity as well of the rings for when he proposes to his fiancé to be.”

“Of course, sir,” the cleaner said stepping away, “Your rings are in the best of hands, sir.”

In his absence the salesman asked, “Have you considered wedding bands yet?”

“For myself, no, I do know her cousins said maybe hearts,” to another counter he was led and a series of choices from simple barely visible thin bands both with and without stones absolutely baffling him.

“As always when you bring in your fiancé to get the ring resized, if needed, we could get her input as well. Most of our clients do take that route since she would be wearing them, then she could choose if she wants a full band all its own or something to ghost up against the engagement ring. And color talks could go on for days if she is quite picky like most women are in this important piece.”

The cleaner came back and Richard flashed him a hint of a grin as he said, “Quite stunning pieces originally you have here, even more so once they are cleaned and polished up a bit. Starting with the male ring. Seven carats for the center with the others at half a carat each on a 24 karat white gold band. The center stone was appeared to be scuffed but after cleaning it is like new again. Same as the female ring. The center stone on hers is just shy of eight carats actually surrounded by one carat diamonds and emeralds on the 24 karat white gold band. Any woman will feel quite the Princess wearing this ring. Both by my estimation could fetch up to 750k a piece, and that is being stingy since being polished could fetch even more with this clarity.”

“I don’t think I could tell her that. She might be a bit scared to wear it then.” Making the men chuckle as Richard did to himself, “And with that she might try to go skimpy on a wedding band in that case. Thank you for cleaning them they do look fantastic now.”

With a passing of bills over he paid and accepted a card to book an appointment for when you might want to shop for wedding bands or to drop off the ring should it need resizing. And just buzzing Richard with ring in hand finally parked back at the apartment spotting Lee in his return from another day out with a few friends. Trading nods he joined their group to the lift and into the hall where they split to head to the separate apartments. Freeing the Brit to have a moment in silence to walk from his now locked door to the living room where he gave an excited wiggle in settling the bag down on the couch at having such a huge score landed for the next step forward with you. Back into the cabinet the box and spare rod were settled and to your room he went to find a place to hide the rings in their velvet protective pouches and the geode box where you wouldn’t find them.

“What do you think of emeralds?” was the first question out of his mouth in dialing a number he hadn’t expected to upon fixing himself up some supper to eat.

“Emeralds?” Your father answered and gave a soft sigh having gotten back inside himself from a long day on the ranch. “For,” the reason clicked in his head and he asked, “You picked a ring?!”

“We bought this cabinet that Jaqi loved and I managed to get the doors and drawers un-jammed and there were these rings inside. I found a relative of the old owner and he said I could keep them. Got them cleaned and they’re appraised at over 750k a piece.”

“I want you to describe them but take a picture and mail it to me. You could give her a block of cheese with a bow and she’d say yes, but think I would like to get a peek before the grandparents get to see it in the press.”

“I will, I still have to see if it fits her first.”

“Details Rich, details.”

Pt 34

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Canada #New York #Salon #Juggling #New Apartment #Busy Work #Cabinet Discovery

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writing-the-end · 4 years

Text

WS Chapter 46- Woodland Mansion

Masterpost

Some good times....and not so good times. Ecto certainly has the right idea, but which path forward is the right one? Should they wait, or charge ahead? And what does Ecto have planned?

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Warning: some mild violence and action.

The darkened halls stretch beyond the open mouth to the mansion, only a few torches casting dim, dying light down the corridors of dark wood. Hisses and groans echo across the wood panels and thin carpet, as well as low rumbles of distant voices.

“Are we sure Red went in here?” Avon questions. She knows she saw Red running this way, but would he have noticed the unnerving energy of the creepy mansion?

Ecto dares to step into the foyer, kneeling down and picking something up from the blood red carpet. She lets it dangle from her fingers so Avon can see. Rainbow beads clatter and twist around the gold chain. Such a small accessory, but both know exactly what it is. “He was here.”

Avon flutters before Ecto, pausing to brush her wings across the carpet. Searching for traps. Ecto keeps a keen eye for enemies and for Red. The skin on her neck prickles, feeling like she’s being watched by a hundred eyes. When she turns around, she is in fact being watched. Watched by a hundred red, shimmering eyes in the darkness from the rafters. The spider crawls, intent on Avon just ahead. Ignoring Ecto, focused on the person who doesn’t see it. Massive pinchers, each as sharp as axe blades, quietly tap together. The spider coils to attack.

Ecto throws her sword. It may not be an arrow, or a trident. She could have waited until it was on her level to fight. It’s definitely not what her weapon is meant for. But it strikes true, gutting the monster before it can attack her friend. No one attacks Avon except for Ecto.

Avon peeks around a corner, grabbing Ecto and pushing her tight against the wall. “There’s three people ahead. All have some nasty looking axes. A skeleton in the corner as well.”

Ecto dares to look down the hall, the pale grey skins of illagers like spirits haunting the corridors. Low, gravelly voices roll from the conversation. Something about trees, something boring. “Let’s surprise attack them.”

Ecto slips into the room behind them, silent footsteps across the aged wood floor. Keeping to the edges, where it’s less likely to creak. Avon’s wings beat silently, hopping and hovering along. She has no clue what Ecto is planning. She never has any clue what Ecto is planning.

Which is why Ecto’s plans always work. In all honesty, she never has a plan. That’s her plan. No one can guess what she’s doing when she doesn’t know herself. She presses herself against the thin wood paneling, the deep voices of the vindicators just on the other side. She can practically feel the life being sapped from her, the ill aura opposite of the wood gasping for life. Ecto pulls back her sword, angling it at the aged wood. Her tongue sticks out as she takes a deep breath, then plunges her sword through the planks.

And into the vindicator on the other side. Avon curves the throw of her trident, killing the skeleton before it can nock an arrow. The two step out, and in swift and simultaneous attacks they take out the remaining vindicators. The fight is over before the enemies even had a chance to wield their own weapons.

The duo clear rooms together. Fighting side by side. Ecto’s unusual tactics and impulsive attitude makes her a great fighter, with no fear of taking the lead into the next room. Avon’s training and agility puts her in the middle (or above) the fight. Locating the most dangerous foes and stopping them before they can get close to Ecto. Hardly a scratch befalls either one. Alone, they’re great fighters. Together, Ecto and Avon are undemisable.

“We’ve searched every room on this floor, do you think Red went up to the second floor?” Avon pulls her trident free from the corpse of a creeper, gunpowder mixing with the blood and skin of the monster. Avon had seen wet footprints, about the size that matched their little friend, and a few rare signs of fighting- but only with water. Red is here, but they haven’t seen her yet.

Ecto looks at the ground, but the water has dried up. The trail the two observant runaways have been following has disappeared. Gone cold. “I can only assume that-”

“Wait- hush.” Avon holds her hand up, head and hair flicking to the side. Ecto does hold her tongue for once. And in the silence of the deep, dark woodland mansion, they hear a sniffle. Through the walls, the two don’t even dare to breathe for fear of losing the quiet noises of their friend. They circumambulate around a wall a few times, like wolves sniffing out their prey. They soon figure out that Red has to be within the wall, but neither can find how to get in. How did Red even get in?

Ecto grows tired searching for an answer, and decides to make her own. Similar to how she dug her sword to kill the vindicator, she shoves the blade through the thin crack in between wood panels, and pries the dark oak off the wall. She peeks through the window she’s made for herself, grinning to see exactly what she hoped to.

Red is tucked in a corner, curled up as small as she can make herself. One sleeve has been unroled, streaks of damp tears across the grey fabric. “Guys?”

“How’d you even get in here?” Ecto questions, squeezing herself through the small hole she tore through. She gets stuck halfway through, left to devices of Avon, who opens the panel just below. Ecto crashes to the ground, but bounces to her feet just as quickly as she fell. She brushes off the dust.

“I-I’m sorry I yelled at you guys. I-” Red voice falters as the two come closer. He shouldn’t be apologizing. He meant what he said. But he said it so harshly, he could have hurt their feelings.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Avon whispers. Ecto nods, holding out the string of beads that Red had dropped. A glimmer, a bubble of joy ripples through Red’s puffy eyes, clasping at the lost accessory and placing back in it’s rightful place on his vest.

Avon takes hold of Red’s hand, and pulls her to her feet. A deep, growling noise echoes off the wood of the small, enclosed room. Reverberating against the stone pillars that hold up the staircase above them. But it’s no monster, no creature of the night. Well, unless the wanderers count midnight munchies as a monster. Red pouts. “Do you think there’s food somewhere here?”

They haven’t had the chance to eat anything good for days. They hardly even had time to rest, much less gather food. Only what they find while walking has been their source of nourishment. And at the sound of one call, the others in the pack answer. All three wanderers are hungry. Ecto grimaces. “There’ gotta be some things we can loot around here. Maybe on the next floors.”

At first, Avon wants to disagree, but she keeps her mouth closed. She’s hungry as well, and they are low on supplies. Avon and Ecto did well enough holding back enemies on the first floor, with Red in the mix they’ll only fare better. The three tiptoe out of the cupboard, keeping silent all the way up to the second floor. More monsters and illagers roam the halls. The wanderers can only stay unseen for so long.

An arrow whizzes past Ecto’s face, ripping through the fabric of Avon’s cloak before falling at the feet of Red. A skeleton draws back it’s bow to fire another shot, intent on not missing Ecto’s chest this time around.

Red shoots forward, sliding in front of Ecto. All three brace upon hearing the thwip of a bowstring letting loose it’s arrow. But instead of colliding with anyone’s body, the arrow is left suspended in water. A barrier of liquid, conjured through Red’s burgeoning magic, spans as a shield around all three. Red can’t help but grin back at her friends, coy and excited. Such an expression is contagious, and equally sly grins reach Ecto and Avon.

A vindicator charges towards Red’s barrier, iron axe raised to plunge down over his wall. Ecto takes a deep breath, and pushes through the shield. Soaked but unstoppable, she plants her foot into the illager’s chest, jumping up as her sword slashes open her enemy. A few stray locks are blown free from Ecto’s view, wingbeats as Avon scouts ahead. Her trident runs through the brittle bones of a skeleton, throwing the blade into the ceiling and slaughtering the spider waiting to kill Red.

It becomes a system with the wanderers. Avon forges ahead, taking out creepers and skeletons- ranged dangers. Preliminary threats. Ecto charges in as the calvary, working with Avon to slaughter the illagers and zombies. Red moves in during the fight, using her water magic as support. Whether it be a shield, a trap, or a distraction, Red has an answer with water. Room by room, they clear and cleanse the dark hallways of the dank mansion. There’s not much in the way of treasure, but the trio does manage to find enough food and other supplies to stuff Red’s bag with. Enough to keep them going for at least another week on the run.

The wanderers are unstoppable. No evoker, no vindicator, no skeleton or creeper could slow them down. They are even smiling, working together as a team. Seeing the joyous smirk on Red’s face as she throws up a rink of ice between her friends and her foes. Avon’s pride as her trident returns to her hand, the heavy thud of the loyalty bound to her soul. Ecto’s coy grin as she surprises her enemies with swift and stunning attacks. By the time the trio reaches the top floor, they’ve perfected working together. Red’s bag is so full of food and emeralds that the treasure haul is falling loose from the rim of her bag.

Ecto taps her foot against a small statue, something that just fell out of the robes of the last evoker. The last enemy in the entire mansion. “This kinda looks like Fred.”

Red hobbles over, catching a potato as it falls from his bag. Avon takes the uncooked spud, biting into it with a crunch. Red shivers at the noise, and Avon’s gusto for potatoes, before looking at the metal statue. Ecto wipes blood and dust from the emerald eyes, holding it out for Red. “You’re right. Do you think Scar got Fred from one of these places then?”

“Why did Scar give that to you in the first place? We should’ve asked him last time we were with the Hermits.” Avon adds, wiping the potato juice from her lips.

Red takes hold of Fred, feeling that odd zing up his spine. Energy flooding through from Fred. The golden gift from Scar has been hanging on Red’s bag, a constant companion on their journey. “I don’t know, but he said not to lose it. I’m sure there’s a reason he wanted us to have it, though I don’t know why. Maybe it’s like his magic crystals?”

Ecto snorts, tossing the spare golden totem into a dusty corner of the room. “And we all know how well those work.”

Avon peeks into Red’s bag, one hand still clutching her trident as the other takes inventory. “We have enough to keep us going for quite some time now. We won’t have to go hungry while we travel.”

In the corner of the room, Ecto sets down a potted allium. She nearly squeezes it to the point of breaking, but turns around to face her friends instead. “Why should we keep running? Look at what we just did. We cleared out a whole woodland mansion together, and came out with only a scratch or two.”

Red bites his lip, looking at Ecto’s determined face. Unyielding, that’s the best way to describe Ecto. Like a cactus in the desert, she’s unmoving, resilient to anything that tries to knock her down. Which also means she’s just as tough as a cactus. “Do you really think this can be comparable to the hellspawns?”

“When we work together, we’re unstoppable!” Ecto grins, wrapping her arms around the shoulders of both her friends. Trying to instill some sense of camaraderie. “We’re strong enough to take on the whole nether, whatever those stupid hellspawns have waiting. We don’t need to keep running, the hellspawns won’t know what hit them if we go for their throats right now.”

“This...this isn’t anything like the nether, Ecto. Have you ever been there?” Avon’s voice rises up, and for a second Ecto swears she can hear a hint of fear in Avon’s tone. A spark of dread in her eyes. “It’s nothing like the overworld, and nothing like the End. We can’t just be unstoppable- we have to be more than that. It’s too dangerous to go.”

“Why are you so afraid of the nether, Avon?” Ecto pulls away, looking at Red. Hoping for the last one to back her up.

“It’s just not a good place! I don’t like it, it’s hot and there’s lava everywhere. Ghosts that scream fireballs and monsters with fire for blood. It is no place for any of us, and we don’t even have armor!”

“I’m sorry, Ecto. I know this was an awesome show of force, but Avon’s been to the nether before. She knows what’s on the other side of those portals.” Red bites his lip. He hates to have to pick a side. He wishes there was some sort of middle ground, a way to appease both of them. “It’ll just be a little longer till Selene is back with information. Then we can take action.”

Ecto’s shoulders drop. Once again, the others don’t see her way of thinking. Her idea, her point of view. Once again, she’s the outsider, the odd one out. Red offers her hand, but Ecto just brushes past both of her friends. She doesn’t want Red’s sympathy.

She wants action. And if they won’t take action, then she will.

#wandering stars #red #ecto #avon #minesona #mcsona #minecraft persona #minecraft #mineblr #writing

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