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#so i hope this is able to spread that joy...! sort of. ehe
umbrvx · 1 year
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a villain’s journey
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moodymisty · 1 year
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Five Times You Flirted With Wrecker, And The Time He Flirted Back - Ch 2
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< Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >
Author's Note: More fluff more fluff, next chapter coming soon
Summary: Of course out of all the clones in the galaxy to fall head over heels in love with, you pick the one that just thinks you're doing a flip.
Relationships: Wrecker/Fem!Reader
Story-wide Warnings: Eventual NSFW, Fluff, Shy!Reader, Friends to lovers, Awkward flirting, Pining, one instance of a drunk clone being a little pushy but nothing extreme, Reader is too shy and Wrecker is too oblivious, Reader is vaguely one or twice described as being ‘nerdy’ but no details, Size difference, Vaginal sex, Unprotected sex,
Word count: 1533
Ao3 Link
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You've got to be joking.
One hop, two hops; Nope, still out of reach.
None of the numerous lifts are around for you to use, which makes the entire situation all the more painstaking. And a little embarrassing, honestly. It's not even that high up- it's just so tantalizingly out of reach. Climbing on one of the wings is absolutely out of the question; With them stuck upright in the landing position, it would take quite a bit of skill to do so, alongside the fear of falling. But of course all of the manual lifts are currently being used to maintenance the other ships, so you're stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Time to call in reinforcements.
You've never asked any of them for help before, so you hope your predicament is at least amusing enough to be worth the effort. After all, it is their ship you’re doing a maintenance report on. Hopefully this time Tech won’t get in trouble for unauthorized modifications again, but you’ll have to wait and see.
It also doesn’t help that he refuses to let any of the regs touch his pride and joy, so you’re here.
Dammit Tech; You think. You didn’t sign up for this type of work.
“Uh…Hey?”
Turning around while stuck precariously up on a short ladder you see Wrecker, hefting around two crates of ammunition. You thought Tech had asked him to do that yesterday, but you won't comment on the fact.
He's just who you need. In, more than a few regards.
“Oh, hey Wrecker! Do you mind helping me out with something?”
Plopping the crates he’d been carrying on the ground he comes closer, putting his fists on his hips as he looks at you standing dangerously wobbly on the very top rung of the ladder. One bad move and you’ll fall right over. He abandons the sentence he had been speaking, presumably to ask what in the galaxy you’re doing, to instead quickly agree to help.
You don’t know why Tech complains that he isn’t helpful, he always seems to help you whenever he’s able. Even sometimes when he isn’t.
“Sure! What’cha need help with?”
“I need check something on the top of the ship, but all the lifts are being used for the LA-ATs. Mind giving me a hand?” Wrecker laughs, watching you climb down from the short ladder you’d managed to steal. Wrecker looks at you with a wide smirk, finding your predicament endlessly amusing.
"Hard life being short, eh?"
Short in comparison to him, sure.
You can't help but roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms. Wrecker gets a good laugh before he gets into an almost kneel to put him at shoulder height with you, spreading his hands outward. You’re surprised he hasn’t tried to once again ask why you’re doing it in the first place, though more than likely he just assumes it’s because they’re in trouble in some sort of way. Not uncommon.
“Here, I’ll lift ya up.”
Seems like a sound enough plan, though you can’t help but feel a little nervous at the idea of being up so high. But you still nod and take a step closer to him anyways, and Wrecker places his hands around your waist and hefts you easily off the ground, as high as he can reach. However you still can’t view the top of the ship, no matter how much you try to impossibly stretch your neck to take a peek. Your datapad flops around in your hand as you attempt to position yourself, but still no.
You look back down at Wrecker, who was actually looking away from you until you start speaking to him again.
“No dice...I still can’t reach; Can you raise me up any higher?”
With a remarkable amount of ease he puts your feet back on solid ground, with not even so much as the tiniest waiver of strain.
"Here, let’s try this."
He fully lowers down to one knee, and you cautiously step closer unsure of what he has in mind, until his arms suddenly wrap around your thighs. He grips around you enough that your thighs squeeze together tight, letting out a yelp and leaning forward enough that you put your hands on his shoulders to avoid toppling.
It doesn't help with matters that it's incredibly obvious he's face level with your groin, as well as the fact that you're effectively sitting on his forearms. But with the added height you’re finally able to view the top of the ship, doing everything you can in one shot while Wrecker's arms and hands tighten just underneath the crease of your ass.
It’s a position that doesn’t exactly inspire the purest of thoughts, for sure.
It’s not the first time you’ve thought about him manhandling you to such a degree, or gripping you tight with his hands, so it’s probably a situation that later, will keep you up late at night for a bit.
But you want to get this over as soon as possible, as besides the fact that Wrecker is so close to you, you notice a few groups of regs giving you both quite the odd looks. Not surprising, but still more than a little embarrassing.
What is impressive however is you haven't budged even a tad in his grip, considering how much of an inefficient way this is to hold someone. Normally you’d slip through a normal person’s arms with no leverage, but with Wrecker, he’s strong enough that he doesn’t even break a sweat.
“Ok, I’m all good!”
And with the same amount of control he picked you up with Wrecker slowly lowers you to the ground, putting your feet onto the floor as gentle as he possibly can.
I hope my face doesn't look as hot as it feels right now...
You feel like you're gripping the datapad in your hands with a vice grip, trying to put all your nervousness into tensing your hands instead of it showing on your face.
“Thanks for the help Wrecker, you really saved my behind.”
And were alsograbbing it until just now...
Wrecker is kind; You think, and if you’ve inconvenienced him he'd never say, as he smiles while one hand stays on his hip. The other brushes over the top of his head, looking away before back at you.
“No problem! Always ready to help ya.”
He does loose the smile a bit, and instead sports a curious look as he glances towards the Marauder before back at you. "So... What were you tryin’ to do anyways?" You shake your datapad in your hands, pursing your lips.
“Tech’s denied every single mandatory inspection for the past three months, and so now I’m here; Because it needs to be done before you guys leave and apparently for some reason I’m the only one that can do it.”
More like no one else wants to be near the 99’s… Except me.
You doubt that he even wants you to be doing this, but at least he’s less prickly enough to allow it to be done. Wrecker snorts, and you smile at how adorable he sounds while his shoulders shake with his typical loud laughter. It’s always infectious, and only seems to get louder as he makes you happy as well.
“Yeah, sounds like Tech alright. He’s all up in a twist trying to get things done before we ship out again.” Wrecker, always with the carefree attitude. Your fingers finally loosen their grip on your datapad, as Wrecker comes forward and gently claps a hand on your shoulder. You can’t help but smile up at him, trying to ignore a passing group of troopers giving The Marauder the stink eye.
“I should probably head out now; I think we’ve made enough of a scene out here.” Wrecker looks around behind him, crossing his arms across his chest and laughing at the same group of troopers.
“Ehh don’t worry ‘bout them. They’re just jealous. They won’t pick on you with me around anyways.” You smile up at him.
I was more so referring to the scene I make becausebeing around you makes me turn into a boiledfish from howhopelessly infatuated I amwith you...
"Thanks for everything Big guy; See you later? And remember to tell Tech I didn’t touch anything important."
Kriff, you hadn't meant to use a nickname. After it slips from your lips you purse them tight, trying to play it off. He doesn't seem to mind however, and just gives you a thumbs up.
"Oh, uh, Yeah! I will! See ya."
The hanger entrance feels like it’s an impossible distance away, scurrying as fast as you can with your datapad still in your hands. Once you’re out of sight, you sigh and push your hair from your face.
Kriff, you really need to learn to deal with this. Maybe now that they’re going to be deployed for a bit you’ll have the chance to figure out how to tell him how you feel, though the minute you think about doing so, your fingers tightly grip the edge of your datapad.
You’ll figure it out, gather the gusto; Just need a little time.
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bearsanpancakes · 1 year
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Nagi Rokuya i-HAKE! Rabbit TV - Part 3: The gentleness of a gentleman
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Nagi: Mitsuki, Mr. Momo! It’s morning already! Let’s go find the lost Kokona together!
Momo: Yawn, morning… Eh, it’s still dark out…
Mitsuki: You’re already awake, Nagi? You got up really early, huh…
Nagi: I was unable to rest at ease knowing that Kokona is all alone in that forest.
*Rustle!*
Nagi: …!? This is—
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Mitsuki: Here! The coffee is done brewing~!
Nagi: Thanks!
Nagi: Oh! It smells nice!
Momo: You’re right, it does smell nice. Thank you, Mitsuki!
Momo: …ah, it’s hot!
Momo: But it tastes so good…! It’s a suitable drink to have when you’ve just woken up~
Mitsuki: Using firewood to brew coffee is also one of the joys of camping.
Momo: So that’s what’s known as field coffee!
Nagi: The cup is a kuksa [1], isn’t it? How nostalgic! The owner of a bakery that I’m acquainted with really likes this, they always use this sort of cup.
Mitsuki: Oh! Even the tableware has a Scandinavian style to it!
Momo: Using such stylish tableware early in the morning, my mood has become better.
Momo: Plus… we were able to find Kokona, that’s amazing!
Nagi: Once our coffee time is over, let’s return it to the little girl. I hope we can see her smile with ease.
Mitsuki: Yup, I’m sure she’ll be very happy!
Momo: That’s right! But… I never would’ve expected Kokona to be left right beside the tent.
Mitsuki: It’s easier to forget things if they’re nearby, after all…!
Nagi: Hm… Is that so?
Momo: Hm?
Nagi: Maybe Kokona wasn’t forgotten beside the tent, but was instead delivered to us by someone in the middle of the night.
Mitsuki: …are you talking about the staff?
Nagi: No, the hint lies with Kokona’s sandwich cookies.
Momo: That’s… the snack you gave the forest fairies, right?
Nagi: Yes! The gift I gave them is gone, whereas Kokona appeared at the same spot as I’d placed the snacks.
Nagi: Although they like to play tricks on people, they’re still very kind. Maybe they saw that the little girl was on the verge of tears and quickly brought it back.
Mitsuki: Then, what you’re saying is…!?
Momo: If that’s the case, then it truly is romantic!
Momo: It sounds like something out of a fairy tale!
Nagi: I’m being honest. It reminds me of Northmeir, with the way it feels mystical and joyous.
Nagi: This truly is a pleasant morning, I’m really happy to be able to experience camping!
IDOLiSH7: …
Riku: Wow… that’s amazing! Were there actually fairies!?
Tamaki: There definitely was, right!? They brought back Kokona, after all! Sogo: That is true, the forest and the lake are spacious, so it wouldn’t be weird if there were unknown beings there.
Yamato: Yup, just like how a Zashiki-Warashi would appear in some Japanese-styled hotels~
Iori: The atmosphere of the VCR suddenly feels like that of an urban legend’s…
Mitsuki: Hang on a second…! The VCR was definitely leaning more toward the beauty of a Scandinavian-style camping trip, wasn’t it!?
Nagi: Maybe it was the beauty of a Japanese style, instead.
Mitsuki: I don’t think that’s how it works!?
Riku: Um, Nagi! Did the little girl feel better once her Kokona plush was returned to her?
Nagi: She did, she was happily hugging Kokona!
Mitsuki: It seems like she slept soundly at night as well because Nagi’s Kokona plush was there by her side.
Tamaki: Nagicchi’s so considerate. How do I say this, you’re suuuuper cool!
Iori: You’re like a gentleman who, without a trace, spreads kindness, since you were naturally able to make that little girl feel at ease.
Nagi: Making a lady feel at ease is a gentleman’s duty.
Yamato: As expected of an authentic gentleman.
Mitsuki: She gave you and your Kokona a matching set of camping outfits as thanks for helping her find it too!
Nagi: Treasures that are important to me continue to grow in size…! This truly is a wonderful memory!
Sogo: Camping does seem really fun. The same goes for fishing, although everyone didn’t know what to do at first, you all had so much fun fishing in the end.
Tamaki: That’s so nice~ I want to go camping too…!
Nagi: Oh… If that’s the case, should we discuss it with Mr. Momo?
Nagi: I coincidentally received a message from him earlier saying “I’ve compiled a list of recommended campsites for you!”
Tamaki: Really?
Nagi: I gave him my thanks for letting me experience such a wonderful camping trip, so he invited me along for the next trip as well.
Tamaki: Really!? I want to go too!
Riku: Me too!
Mitsuki: Yeah, then let’s all go together! I can be the guide for everyone once again.
Tamaki & Riku: Yay!!
Yamato: Have fun, just remember to bring home some souvenirs.
Tamaki: What are you talking about!? Yama-san, you’re coming along as well!
Mitsuki: Ossan, there are a lot of things for you to do! For example, starting a fire, building a tent, and so on!
Yamato: Even if I went camping, I’d just stay in a small wooden hut…
Sogo: If we all work together, the work can be completed in a flash.
Yamato: Aha, you’ve gotta be kidding me…
Iori: Although it’s simply camping, there still are various different styles to it. For example, your camping experience this time was that of a Scandinavian style.
Nagi: That’s right, this camping trip reminded me a lot about Northmeir.
Riku: I really hope that we can go camping in Northmeir someday!
Nagi: The summer season of Northmeir is very comfortable and pleasant. It’s unlike the winter season that you’ve all experienced the last time you went, so it’s perfect for you all to experience a different side of Northmeir.
Nagi: Just leave the tour guiding part to me.
Tamaki: Yay!
Sogo: Nagi-kun’s i-HAKE was really interesting as well. It’ll be Riku-kun’s turn next.
Riku: I’m looking forward to it…! I’ve had some ideas on what kind of i-HAKE I want to make, and I’ve thought of a lot!
Iori: I don’t think that decision is in your hands…
Riku: I know that! I’m just saying that’s how excited I am!
Nagi: I’m sure a wonderful experience awaits you ahead.
Nagi: Just like this camping experience, it has already become a precious memory of mine.
End of part 3 
[1] - A Kuksa cup is a hand-carved wooden cup made of a birch burl. You can read more about Kuksa here and here 
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eirikaanemo · 3 years
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Heavy Is The Crown
Warnings: None
Venti x GN!Minstrel!Reader
3.1k Words
Venti's a servant boy at the palace that you fall in love with... right?
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You’re the apprentice of the renowned Minstrel Chapman of the Riverside Performers Company. And recently your company was invited to go perform at the palace for the royal family of Mondstadt. It’s understandable really, they probably need some joy and relaxation in their lives considering the difficult war that is waging on. Of course, you’re one of the few to see it that way.
“People are dying on the battlefield every day, and the King and Queen want to make merry?” Archibald scoffed. “Peace, Archibald,” Grisela soothed. “This war is difficult for them as well.” Archibald scoffed again but chose not to respond further. These sorts of discussions were common now-a-days, and a gap of misunderstanding and hurt is starting to grow between the rulers and their people.
This really concerned you because you’d once known the son of a Baron and he had explained these sorts of difficulties to you. Your goal was to try and help bridge the gap. Since Master Chapman has charged you to write a song yourself for the royal performance, you have decided to write a song that could help with that. But the problem is that you have no idea what to write! And you’re running out of time.
When your company reaches the palace the next day, you are no closer to having written the song than you were before. Thankfully you all had arrived at the palace a couple days early, so you still had some time to come up with your song. However, you were feeling so nervous that you couldn’t even focus on trying to compose it at all.
So you decided to take a break and wander around the palace grounds, as you and your company had been invited to do when you arrived. As you did so, admiring the beautiful flowers and bushes of the garden, you ended up running into someone. Literally as in one moment you were standing up, and the next you were sitting on the ground clutching your head.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” someone apologized to you. “I should’ve been better about looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Peeking up, you see a servant boy with black hair in braids with teal tips and a flower tucked behind his ear. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assure him. “A little stunned, but I’ll be alright in a minute.”
“Are you sure?” He asks worriedly. When you nod he breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear, Head Maid Maribel would have my head if I hurt a guest.” You smile and laugh a little. “Well we can’t have that,” you tease. “I’m sure you look much nicer when you have your head on your shoulders.” He stills for a moment from his fiddling from a moment before, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.
Spluttering some, he manages to squeak out, “Oh, um, thanks?” You look at him oddly. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever teased you like that before,” you say. “I, um, won’t tell you then.” He jokes, calming down some. You smile some and give him a wink, “Well, I’m honored to be the first then.”
“Oh!” He exclaims. “I need to be pruning some bushes right now.” Your smile drops a bit, you’d been hoping to spend some more time with him. Noticing that, he adds on, “Would you like to come along? We could talk more while I prune.” You easily agree, “I’d like that very much, thank you.”
More confident now that he had something to focus on, he continued to make small talk with you. You introduce yourself and the two of you get to know each other better; he is ecstatic to know that you’re a minstrel and play the lyre. “I’m learning to play the lyre too!” He declares. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You smile at him, happy to know that you have that in common.
“I would like that! But,” you admit, “unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now. My master has told me to write a song and I’m struggling to get it out. With the war going on, I want to write a song to help bridge the gap between the royals and the commoners. From my experiences with the son of a Baron I knew, this war is just as hard for them as it is for us.”
He pauses from snipping away at the bush he’s working on. “You know, I’m glad you see it that way,” he tells you with an oddly grateful look in his eyes. “My p- Their majesties have really been struggling recently, especially with the loss of support from the people. For all the life of nobility looks wonderful, it comes at a cost. You lose freedom, always have to put others before yourself, can’t show any weakness, and bear the weight of every death on your shoulders.”
The odd phrasing and sudden correction go straight over your head as your muse suddenly rears its head. “I think I’ve got it now,” you blurt out. He blinks and tilts his head, confused. “Well I’m not sure what I did or said to help,” he replies, “but I’m glad I could help.”
You give him a big hug. “Really, you helped a lot,” you admit. “I need to go get started composing! But, uh, do you think I could see you again later?” He returns the hug. “Sure thing,” he murmurs in your ear. “I should be out here for the rest of today and all of tomorrow, but you’ll need to find me.”
“I think I can do that,” you murmur back and pull away from the hug. “See you tomorrow,” you call out to him as you start heading back to your Company. He watches you until you’re out of sight, before he goes back to pruning. “Well, that was fun,” he cheerfully tells himself. “I hope they do come back tomorrow. It’s not everyday I get to talk to someone like that.”
Composing the song was child’s play once you pick your lyre back up and get to work. The boy’s words repeat over and over in your head as you plan out lyrics and try different tunes. Master Chapman was thrilled when you played your song for him and assured you that the royals would love it. “It’s a wonderful tribute to all they do for us. And it helps us understand them and makes them more relatable to us,” he confirms. “I’m sure it will help you achieve your goal of helping bridge the gap between commoners and royals.”
When you find the boy the next day, you’re nearly vibrating in excitement. “Hey you,” you call. “Guess what?” His head turns to see you mid-snip and the branch lands on his head. You run over to make sure he’s okay. “Are you alright?” You ask him. “Yeah,” he responds sheepishly. “I guess this time it’s you who has to worry about getting me hurt.”
“Well that’s good,” you state, pouting at his teasing. “Oh! I realized yesterday that I don’t know your name!” He rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. “Ehe, sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Venti, it’s nice to officially meet you!”
“That’s a wonderful name,” you reply. “I like it a lot.” He smiles wide, “Thanks!” As the day continues you continue to talk with each other. Eventually he ropes you in to helping him with his chores. Thanks to that he gets done early and, after reporting back about finishing, he’s able to just spend the rest of the day with you.
After a certain point you’re able to admit to yourself that you’re falling for him. He’s cute, free-spirited, and makes you laugh. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but he seems to enjoy your time together too. The days left leading up to the performance are spent practicing and spending time with him. He’s tried to get you to play the song for him, but you insist that he wait for the performance to see.
The day of the performance comes very quickly, too quickly in your opinion. For all the compliments everyone who has heard your song gives you, and all the minds it has changed, you’re still incredibly nervous to perform it. What if they don’t like it? Will they find it presumptuous for you to write such a thing? When the time comes, will you mess up?
But the moment it’s your turn you take a deep breath, remind yourself that this is what you’re training for, and take your place on stage. Looking at the audience, you see the King and Queen, but, oddly enough, Prince Barbatos did not seem to be present. You strum your lyre and introduce yourself and your song. The audience seems intrigued that you would write such a song, so you take courage and start singing.
The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,
They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.
I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,
Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.
Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,
The true royal knows their people fed, before they sit to feast.
The good royal knows their people safe, before they takes their rest,
Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before they make request.
These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears a royal can't shed,
The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my soldiers dead.
Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—
And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!
(See: The Cost of the Crown by Mercedes Lackey, Debra F. Sanders)
As the last note fades the crowd stands with roaring applause. You feel a warmth spread across your cheeks as you bow deeply and return to your place standing with your company. Those standing around you congratulate you quietly as the next member steps up to perform.
Soon the performance is over and your Company is preparing to leave. Surprisingly many members of the Company had changed their minds about royals and the Company Head, Ferdinand, approached you to pass on the gratitude and appreciation from the King and Queen themselves. Venti showed up one last time, and Master Chapman allowed you to go speak with him as a treat for a job well done.
“That was amazing!” Venti shouts. “Did I really help you write that? I was hiding behind some curtains to listen and it was so amazing that I cried.” He grins so bright that you almost have to close your eyes. “I’m glad you liked it!” You say as you smile back. His happiness was contagious, and it didn’t help that you were completely smitten with him at this point. But alas, it was not meant to be.
Master Chapman called your name, letting you know that the Company would be leaving soon and that you’d have to come back within the next minute or two if you didn’t want to be left behind. Venti’s smile dims. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” He inquires. “Yes,” you sigh. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll see you again some day. But until then…” You trail off. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head again. Quickly, so as to not chicken out, you peck his check and run back to the Company.
“Until then!” You call out to him. The Company leaves as soon as you get there, so you’re not able to look back to see him. But if you could have, you would have seen him blushing as red as a rose, with a hand on his cheek where you kissed him. “Until then,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll make sure I’ll see you again.”
---
Years pass, and your apprenticeship ends. You make quite the name for yourself, and your song has worked wonders to heal the relationship between the people and their rules. Of course you write many more songs, but your first is always your favorite. Because he helped you write it. Many people have asked to court you, but you have turned them all down. Even after all these years, Venti the servant boy still holds your heart.
One day a messenger comes to speak with Ferdinand, bringing both good and bad news. Ferdinand calls the whole company together to share it. “Good friends, I’m sad to say that the King has passed away.” He announces, and the Company breaks into whispers and conversation. You think you may have even seen Gwenivere crying. “However, we have been invited to perform at Prince Barbatos’ coronation!”
This was wonderful news! Perhaps you could take this chance to see Venti again! You’d missed him dearly. But the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. Maybe he’d moved on and married someone else already. Would he still remember you? Will he want anything to do with you now? What if you didn’t like you and is upset about the kiss you gave him before you left?
You shake those thoughts out of your head and take a deep breath to calm yourself. Then you feel a hand clamp down on your shoulder and you must’ve jumped several feet in the air in your surprise because the person behind you burst into laughter. Embarrassed, you turn around to see Ferdinand, now laughing so hard that he was having trouble standing up.
“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble at him, good naturedly. “I’m sure startling me was very funny.” Finally calming down, Ferdinand gave you a great big smile. “It most certainly was,” he assured you. “But I didn’t come to you with the intention to startle you.” You raise an eyebrow as you continues. “I wanted to let you know that you were actually mentioned by name, so you may want to prepare something special.
Your jaw dropped. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone to be specifically named, but this was from the Prince himself! Still stunned, you nodded. “I’ll write the best song I can,” you promised him. “I’m sure you will,” he replied confidently. He didn’t stay long after that, just letting you know the basics of when the Company would be leaving and how soon the coronation would be.
As you travel you do your best to compose a song. However, you soon find yourself stuck. Your muse is gone again, just like it was the last time you went to the palace. Oh well, perhaps Venti could help you again. It would be wonderful to spend more time with him anyway, so you don’t worry too much about it.
The Company reaches the palace after a week of travel. You look for Venti in the gardens all day, but can’t find him anywhere. ‘Perhaps he got moved to working in the castle?’ You wonder to yourself. But either way, that meant he wouldn’t be able to help you write your song. So you sat down that night and did your best to compose.
It wasn’t really working, but you did your best. The next morning was chaotic, as the Company had been informed that the Prince himself would be coming out to welcome you all. You hurriedly joined in making the company camp look presentable and changed into your best clothing before going out to stand with everyone else.
The Prince was announced before the palace doors opened to reveal… Venti. Your eyes went wide and your jaw must have dropped to the ground. Those who were in the company before very carefully didn’t turn to look at you, though the newbies couldn’t help but look at you, confused. You quickly composed yourself as he scanned the crowd, though the smiles of some of his guards told you that your reaction did not go unnoticed.
It was very much him. The same dark hair with teal tipped braids. His eyes brightened as they met yours. He strode forward and the crowd parted before him. You were about to move as well until he stopped before you, fell to one knee, took one of your hands, and gently kissed it. Your face warmed again in a way that it hadn’t since you last saw him.
His eyes sparkled with mirth as he saw the look on your face. “Hello again,” he said gently. “Hi,” you squeaked. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you again?” He laughed, “It’s good to see you again too. I know I kept my status a secret before, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth then, but could I ask you a question?”
“O-of course,” you respond. He smiles charmingly. “Will you marry me?” That’s it. You must’ve died and gone to heaven. Or maybe someone had put something in your breakfast. Or maybe he had the wrong person. You looked side to side to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to before you point to yourself. “M-me?” You ask, hesitantly. “You,” he says confidently. “I fell in love with you all those years ago, and I could never imagine myself with someone else.
“Though I would understand if you’re with someone else. It’s been so long and you’re so wonderful that you must have received many invitations to courtship.” A shy smile spreads across your face. “I have received many offers,” you admit, and his face falls a bit. “But I’ve turned them all down. My heart was taken years ago by my dear Venti the servant boy.”
You get down on your knees and kiss the hand that is holding yours. “I would love to marry you, if you’ll have me.” He smiles brighter than the sun. “Nothing would make me happier,” he declares, and he pulls you in for a kiss. You pull away for air and nuzzle your nose against his. “I do have one request though,” you continue. “Anything, my love,” he swears. “Court me properly first, please,” you request.
“I can do that,” he laughs as he pulls you in for a hug. “How about we start with having lunch together,” he whispers in your ear. “That sounds like a great plan,” you agree. He gives you another quick kiss before standing up, pulling you to your feet, and leading you back to the palace.
You ignore the whistles and applause of your Company as you follow him, grateful for their support but wanting to give your suitor all your attention. This was the first day of the rest of your life, and you wanted to appreciate every minute of it. And every minute was just as wonderful as you’d ever imagined.
As queen, you were able to bring the kingdom together and closer than ever before. The people loved their rulers because they knew their rulers dedicated themselves to them. And the rulers responded in kind. The war ended, peace prevailed, and you got your perfect happily ever after.
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Text
DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol.Ⅱ Mini Drama “Ruki VS Azusa”
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Original title: 録り下ろしミニドラマ 「ルキVSアズサ」
Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol.II Mini Drama [CD not owned by me]
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Takagi Sakurai & Daisuke Kishio
Translator’s note: I believe this is the first time I have translated some sort of VERSUS track featuring two Mukami’s and it does have a totally different feel to it, as to be expected. Even though there is still an obvious competition between the two, they aren’t nearly as hostile towards each other, even relying on the other or allowing their ‘brother’ to join in. This sibling bond between the Mukami’s is honestly what I like best about them and I’m glad it shows in this CD!
→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
*Chop chop chop*
Azusa: Eve...What are you doing...?
You squeak.
Azusa: Ah...I’m sorry for scaring you...
You explain.
Azusa: You’re making...dinner? Hmー
Azusa paces around you.
Azusa: Hm...What’s on the menu for today? You chopped up...a bunch of vegetables, huh? 
*Rustle*
Azusa: Ah! That knife...It cuts extremely well, doesn’t it? I sharpened it...the other day. So I’d be able to cut...even the hardest materials...You see? I’m sure it could even...slice through bones and flesh with ease...Fufufu~ 
Your face goes pale.
Azusa: Want to...put it to the test? No, you want to try it out, right? I can tell as well, Eve...
*Rustle*
Azusa: Say...Try it on me? Right here, please?
You refuse.
Azusa: Justin, you see...He’s about to fade away. So...Please? Cut me here? ...Come on. You want to, don’t you?
You shake your head.
Azusa: ...Why not? Why would you say no? That’s strange. We should be...two of the same kind though...Ah! That’s wrong. You want it first, don’t you? I see. Of course you would.
He suddenly pins you down.
*Thud*
Azusa: Haah...I’m sorry for not realizing sooner. To make it up to you, I’ll make it...especially painful, okay? Fufufu~ I hope that’ll make you happy~
*Cling*
You start struggling. 
Azusa: It’ll be...okay...Just leave it...up to me...Ugh...
*Shatter*
Azusa: Ugh...Nn...Keep still...Eve...Come on...You can’t do that...Ugh!
*Thud*
Azusa: Haah...Fufu~ Like this, you can no longer move, can you? Ooh...But I can no longer use the knife like this...Hm...What to do...? Ah! Right!
He leans in close.
Azusa: Instead, I’ll give you this pain...which you’ve loved for so long...Haahn...
Azusa bites you.
*Sluuuurp*
*Gulp*
Azusa: Nn...Haah...Delicious...Eve’s blood...I wonder if it’s because...you enjoy pain...?
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: In that case...I’ll make it hurt even more, okay? By doing so...You get to feel even better...and I get to...savor more of your...delicious blood...It’s basically a two-for-one deal (1), right...? Fufu~
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: Haah...Well then, this place is up next...Your ear...
He bites you again.
Azusa: ...Hm? Mm...What’s wrong, Eve? Don’t look at me...like that. Rest...asssured. I’ll make sure to give you pain...just like you wish...Not from your earlobe but...right here...if I suck from the upper part...I’m sure it’ll hurt. 
Your eyes widen in horror. 
Azusa: Come on...Relax. Then my fangs can...sink into you and...give you pain...from inside...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Nn...Hah...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Mm...
*Shatter*
Azusa: Haah...Nn...Mmh...Haah, haah...Seeing you have a hard time...Somehow made me feel good too...Fufu...Fufufu~ It looks as if I almost punctured a hole through your ear...In that case...Let’s put a pretty accessory in here. To symbolize that...I was the one who pierced these...Shall we give it a name too? Like Justin and Christina...Say? Don’t you like the sound of that? Fufufu~ 
*Rustle*
Azusa: Haahn...Mmh...
*Sluuuurp*
*Gulp*
Azusa: Mmh...Nn...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Haah...It’s my turn next, okay...? 
Azusa moves away.
Azusa: Come on, hurt me with this knife...Give me a new kind of pain...I’m begging you.
*Cling*
Azusa: ...Eve? What’s wrong? Hm...Come on, stand...
Ruki enters the kitchen.
Ruki: It has been awfully rowdy in here. What are you doing?
Azusa: Oh...Ruki.
He walks over.
Ruki: Haah...Care explain this to me? Livestock, explain. I should have ordered you to prepare our dinner? 
You frown.
Ruki: From the looks of it, rather than actually preparing the food, all you did was make a mess of our kitchen. You truly are hopeless. Can you not even prepare a single meal without messing up? Haah...Show me your hands.
You hesitate.
Ruki: Show me your hands, I said!
You present him your hands.
Ruki: This is your punishment.
*SMACK*
Azusa: Ah! Wait, Ruki...I’m the one one who...!
*SMACK*
Azusa: Ugh...Ah...
Ruki: Azusa, do not interfere.
Azusa: I’m the one...who got in the way of her cooking so punish me too...
Ruki: Cannot do. You simply want to feel the pain, no?
Azusa: Oh...
Ruki: Regardless of the circumstances, the fact she ignored the orders given by her master remains unchanged. I need to punish her. Azusa. You restrain her, okay?
Azusa: ...Eh?
Ruki: Hurry up.
Azusa: Understood...
Azusa keeps your arms behind your back.
*Rustle*
Azusa: Keep still, okay? Eve...
Ruki: That works. Livestock, I shall tame you right now. You should be grateful. Hmph.
You shiver in fear.
Ruki: Good grief...I can’t believe you would ignore your duties behind your Master’s back, only to indulge in your own selfish pleasures. You are quite the livestock. ...Hm? Are these fang marks Azusa’s? In that case, to start things off, I shall suck from this nape...
*Rustle*
Ruki: Mmh...Nn...
*Rustle rustle*
Ruki: Don’t move. It makes it hard to suck.
*Sluuurp*
You continue writhing around. 
Ruki: Tsk. Livestock. I told you to keep still! ...Azusa, keep her in check.
Azusa: Mmh...
Ruki: I cannot believe you can’t even simply stand still and keep quiet...
*RIIIIIP*
Ruki: Seems like I will have to be a little more strict with my training. To ensure your body actually remembers. You can decide where I shall punish you next. Your throat? Or perhaps, your shoulder? Come on, choose. 
You keep quiet.
Ruki: Good grief...To think you are this foolish, it almost seems refreshing. Show me your hands one more time. Hurry up.
*Rustle*
Ruki: Hmph. The whip has left clear marks behind. I’m sure it must sting painfully? 
You nod.
Ruki: In that case...I shall add onto said pain even more. Like this...
*Rustle*
Ruki bites your hand. 
*Sluuuurp*
Ruki: Mmh...Hah...Fufu...Those are lovely sounds...Cry out more!
You collapse but Azusa catches you in his arms.
*Rustle*
Azusa: ...Oh! Eve...? Are you okay...? I wonder if it simply felt too good...? Hey.
Ruki: Oi. 
*Smack*
Ruki: Wake up. ...You’re gravely mistaken if you think your punishment ends here. Oi, Azusa. You join in too.
Azusa: Ah...Are you sure?
Ruki: Hmph. It’d be more effective if the two of us discipline her simultaneously. Help me out.
Azusa: Mmh...Gotcha. Eve...This time...I’ll give you pain too...Are you happy? No...You obviously are, aren’t you? 
Ruki: You should accept your penalty, admitting to the crime you have committed towards your Master.
Azusa: In that case...I’ll go for this...shoulder. You like it here, Eve...Don’t you?
Ruki: Fufufu...Try your best to remain conscious, okay?
Azusa bites your shoulder.
Azusa: Mmh...
*Sluuurp*
Azusa: Nn...Ah...
*Rustle*
Azusa: Eve...? Does it feel good? ...You ahead...You can lean against me more...By doing so...My fangs can sink in...even deeper.
Ruki: Livestock. Open your eyes. Watch closely. At these wedges (2) piercing through your own wrist. 
Ruki bites her as well.
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Eve...Feel my fangs too...
*Sluuuurp*
*Gulp*
Azusa: Mmh...Ah...You want...more and more...right? This shouldn’t be...nearly enough to satisfy you...
Ruki: Azusa...Give it to her harder, and deeper. Despite her cries, that’s what this woman desires. I can tell.
Azusa: Mmh. I know. ...I’ll give it you as you wish, okay? After all...Eve’s desire...is my desire as well...Haahn...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Nn...
Ruki: Your sweet blood is spreading inside my mouth...Mmh...You sure know how to entice a man. 
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Haah...Hah...Eve...You’re so pretty...Dyed in this deep crimson blood...Mmh.
*Smooch*
Azusa: See? My lips are bright red too, aren’t they? Fufufu~ We match~
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: Ah...It’s okay...Don’t worry about getting dirty?
*Rustle*
Azusa: Oh...You’ve got bite marks all over you...I bet it hurts a lot...Mmh. Oh. I suppose I shouldn’t be too rough with you, right? 
Ruki: Oi, Azusa. She’s a nosy woman, but it’d be troublesome if she becomes unable of saying anything. 
Azusa: Mmh. I know. 
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: I’ll be careful, okay?
*Rustle*
Ruki: Well then...Next up, I’ll do it from behind like this. Let me engrave a pentalty into your nape. Haha...Have you even lost the energy to muster up a response? Good grief...You really always crave to be punished, don’t you? Being too greedy is problematic as well.
Azusa: Hey, Eve...Look at me...Okay? You’ve been looking at...Ruki this whole time, haven’t you? I have the right to make you mine as well...So...Please? I’ll give you...more and more pain...See? Like this...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Mmh...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Nn...Mmh...
Ruki: Do not let Azusa’s words sway you. In the end, you are still my livestock. I am the one you should prioritize. 
Azusa: ...I won’t lose either, Ruki!
Ruki: As you wish. Fufufu...
Azusa: Say, Eve? We are two of the same kind. Therefore...I will give you everything...your heart desires...
Ruki: Heh. Aren’t you rather desperate, Azusa? It is rather uncommon for you to get this worked up. 
Azusa: Because she is the one thing...I don’t want to hand over, not even to you...That’s why...
Ruki: Heh. I see. In that case, I shouldn’t sit still either. ...Oi, Livestock. Drown in me more. Mmh...Nn...
Azusa: Me too...! ...Hey, Eve? You can...have high hopes, okay? Mmh...
*Sluuuurp*
Azusa: Mmn...Nn...
Ruki: I am sure this situation is all you’ve ever dreamt of, isn’t it? Well, go ahead and enjoy it to the fullest. After all, you are a woman who feels joy from being pinned down. We still have plenty of time. I shall show you a kind of pleasure you have yet to ever experience.
Azusa: Eve...I will give it my all as well...Until you are thoroughly satisfied, okay?
Ruki: Hahaha...You are in luck. Seems like your punishment is still far from over.
The door closes.
*Creaaaak*
*Thud*
ーー THE END ーー
Translation notes
(1) Azusa uses the expression いいことづくし or ‘ii-koto-zukushi’ which literally means ‘all sorts of good things/joyful happenings’. 
(2) I’m not sure why Ruki refers to his fangs as 楔 or ‘kusabi’ (wedge) here but I suppose they have a somewhat similar shape.
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officerjennie · 3 years
Text
Commission for the ever so lovely @bouncyirwin - who spreads joy, happiness, and support as freely and easily as some people breathe (this fandom wouldn’t be the same without you 💜💜💜💜💜)
---
How anyone could so much as breathe without adoration hitching their efforts around her, Shisui really didn’t know.
This wasn’t even the first time this week he’d found himself staring in awe without a word able to escape him. Sakura had a way of making him dumb to the quick wit and playful flirting that usually came as natural as most any other social interaction to him - he’d always been the social butterfly of his clan, berated for it at times and having his hair fondly tousled at others. And yet here he sat, in the corner of the little restaurant Sakura and her team and her team’s families had all crowded into, unable to absorb any of the chatter or whatever joke had Kakashi snickering behind his book or even what had Naruto and the brat arguing this time.
Sakura seemed content enough to sit back and soak it all in as well, pride in the soft smile that graced her lips, a cup of tea cradled in her hand near her chest in lieu of the spirit that many of her companions had chosen to partake in this evening. And who could blame them? Rare was the day any shinobi party could come back unscathed along with their success, and given the tentative peace between Konoha and Kiri could have been destroyed at the smallest misstep their celebration came with relief felt by the entire village.
It warmed him to no end to see her so content and sure, so proud, none of the hesitance that used to haunt her expressions and tense her body anywhere to be found - the kunoichi that had chased and chased after her teammates had long since caught up and surpassed them in so many ways, and even without being privy to the intimate details of her internal battles Shisui could feel emotion trying to choke him.
Gods, but he had it bad, didn’t he? He forced some of his own tea down, looking away from the woman who had no idea she held his heart so tightly in her grip, scrubbing his face with his free hand in an attempt to clear his head. Admiration was one thing - very understandable in this case, given Sakura set the precedent for strong and capable shinobi who could punch a ravine into existence - but they could hardly even be called friends if he was honest with himself. So openly staring at her with his heart in his eyes could definitely count as creepy.
Maybe he needed more hobbies.
“Not really like you to hang out on the sidelines.”
It was a bit embarrassing to be snuck up on like that. He hoped his surprise wasn’t too obvious as he peeked through his hands, finding the woman who’d been occupying his thoughts all night now occupying the seat next to him. Up so close he could see her cheeks were dusted pink, though he couldn’t really tell if it was the chill from the night air or just some blush she’d painted on.
Either way. It didn’t really matter which one it was. All Shisui could really do with the information is filing it under “she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met” and keep the simple image of her tucking some pink hair behind her ear firmly in his mind’s eye for the rest of his days.
“Not a place I’d expect to find you either.” She blinked at his words as if confused, pursing her lips even, so despite how obvious it seemed to him Shisui clarified, “You more the frontline type, right?”
“Ah, yeah, I don’t really care for ‘supporting others’ to mean ‘being left behind.’ But today,” Sakura turned just enough to look over at her teammates, Shisui following her gaze to see Naruto gesturing wildly in horror at something that had Sasuke snickering unashamedly. “Today, I think I’m alright with not being in the middle of them. There are some conversations I’d rather they have without me.”
“What even has them going, anyway?”
“Relationships,” Sakura said, a little too quickly. But she didn’t let the awkwardness stay, her eyes flicking down to her tea which she held between her hands as if her fingers might be cold. Shisui wished he could warm them between his own. “Well, not exactly relationships. More like things people do in them. They seem to find it amusing to list all the people they’ve managed to kiss or make out with.”
With a snort, Shisui said, “I’m guessing they’re both at the top of each other’s lists then?”
He was very glad to see the tiny bit of tension relax right away from Sakura as she laughed, her eyes alight with mirth. “Somehow, they always seem to forget to mention that.”
“Bet you love to remind them.”
“Bet I do.” She flashed him a smile that had his ears heating up, and for the life of him Shisui could not say why it made him feel bold.
Despite how calm people saw him, despite his rather laid back nature, Shisui often found himself tongue tied where feelings were involved. But past his beating heart he somehow managed to not make a fool of himself, his nerves not overwhelming him - perhaps it was simply how welcomed he felt in her presence? How inviting and warm she was even as all she did was sip her tea, simply existing but existing there, next to him, when any number of seats were available next to those she was far closer to. And didn’t that make him feel lucky.
“Do you have a list?”
The gods only knew how he managed to make that sound casual. Even when Sakura’s eyes widened and blinked up at him (he swore his favorite color used to be blue but damn if that shade of green wasn’t going to change that) - and for a terrifying moment he remembered just how easily this woman could demolish any wall that stood in her way. With her fist.
Even if that wall was made with solid concrete, or was, say, a whole ass mountain. He was pretty sure he wasn’t anywhere near as solid as a mountain.
When she chose to not punch him, every single last bone in his body heaved a sigh of thankfully unbroken relief. “No, I...don’t have a list.”
No list? That was a little surprising. “A name, then?” Maybe not the best thing to ask someone, at least not before he was sure she would be comfortable with answering. Shisui was quick to add “Unless it’s a secret or something” - the last thing he needed was to drive her away by pushing into her own personal life.
Though, then again - and something in Shisui rose up in slight saddened panic at the thought - what would he do if she did have a name? A significant other? Itachi was out on another of his long missions, who exactly was he supposed to lean on and eat comfort chocolate with if it turned out his growing crush was, well...crushed, before anything could come of it?
“No. No name.”
It took physical effort to not sag with some sort of relief at her words, but it wasn’t a relief that Shisui had much time to process. Because as much as he wanted a chance with the woman of his dreams, as much as he had wanted to hear that...
“Eh? Really? You?” Shisui found it beyond the realms of possibility that Sakura, of all the people in Konoha, had yet to have her first kiss, and that shock was perhaps a bit too loud in his tone.
Definitely not good for his health and wellbeing. The nerve on Sakura’s forehead was suddenly twitching, and the sharp look she sent his way had him gulping.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, no! No no, nothing- I didn’t mean like that!” He shook his head a little more than necessary, horror dawning on him as he realized his unintentional insinuation. “I just meant- you’re just, well, beautiful! Beautiful and an exceptional shinobi, a damn good medic, and from what Sasuke’s told me in confidence you make a mean blueberry tart. Not to mention you could punch through steel if it offended you.” By some grace of the gods he managed to bit off his rambling there, scratching nervously at the back of his head, almost mumbling as he ended his poor excuse of an explanation with, “I just expected, you know… You might have kissed at least one of the people who admired you.”
The moments of quiet after his words were probably the most terrifying seconds of his life, though by some mercy Sakura did not seem angry. Maybe his apology/explanation was acceptable after all and he wouldn’t have to-
Sakura said something under her breath, and Shisui blinked back out of his thoughts, frowning a little in confusion. “What?”
“It’s just that I…” Her bottom lip caught between her teeth for a moment, drawing Shisui’s eyes. “I’ve never really had an appealing offer. You know?”
Had she always been sitting that close to him? Their thighs were touching and Shisui couldn’t remember when that had happened, but his pulse picked up, the whole of him keenly aware of every inch of her.
And how bad would it be, really, to be buried in the ground by those deceptively slender fingers?
“Would I,” Shisui started, with a smooth tone that belied how his heart beat frantically in his chest, “qualify as an appealing offer?”
A breath. Two. Sakura’s gaze flickered down to his lips as hers parted the barest bit - and even before she nodded Shisui knew her answer - though he knew not how he'd been so lucky as to get a yes.
Her hair was soft under his fingers as he cupped the back of her head, her pupils wide as she tilted her chin to look up at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that they were not alone, their friends and coworkers laughing and drinking and chattering away not even half a small restaurant away from them, but all of him preferred to focus on Sakura’s hand now coming to rest on his arm, the way she shifted forward as he leaned closer, how intimate it felt to brush their noses together, her breath tickling his lips.
And then their lips met, and the rest of the world fell away.
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twstlotus · 4 years
Note
Oh, congrats with the new twst write blog!👏 Can i, please, have a hc's for Duece, Azul, Kalim, Floyd and Ruggie with the MC, who make this "cannibalism" joke, while boys eating the cinnamon rolls? Their reaction? Please, make it as fluff as possible. With huge love from Ukraine 💗
Posting this as a way to keep my blog active. Enjoy!
Note: Some of the things here are from a while ago, so the formatting might be a tad different. I hope you don’t mind.
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Deuce Spade
He takes it literally. This poor stupid boy thinks that there’s actual human flesh inside of his cinnamon roll and comes close to throwing it to the nearest trash can— all while muttering on how “he killed someone” and how “he’s guilty”.
Luckily, you were able to quickly reach for his hand and stop him from doing anything that would garner too much attention to both of you. 
You explain your joke to him and when he realizes what you meant, his face turns completely red. He’s utterly embarrassed upon realizing what he almost did to the pure, sweet cinnamon you prepared for him, worried that he screwed up the picnic between you two. To think that he almost threw it all away for nothing…
You reassure him by planting a kiss on his cheek. Telling him that it’s fine, and say that you found his shock rather amusing. To which he acts a tad defensive about it. “E-Eh?! D..don’t say things like that, (Y/N)..!” The red in his cheeks rises once more. Still, you laugh it off, and he eventually backs down. 
Surprisingly, the picnic went alright. You and Deuce continued to eat peacefully despite the small scene that occurred. But overall; the picnic was great! (He seemed to avoid eating the some of the cinnamon rolls, though.) Deuce thanks you for the meals and suggests that you two have more picnics soon— but no more cannibalism jokes!
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Azul Ashengrotto
Azul had the Mostro Lounge open after hours just so the two of you could unwind and have a romantic date there. He even had the Leech twins be your waiters for tonight and also be your “music makers” as they play the most obscure love songs to “set the mood”.
On your table was a plate of cinnamon rolls Floyd served to your table with an obvious wink to accompany it. Your fingers began tracing the swirl patterns of the roll while Azul was eating the cinnamon roll prepared for him.
A cheeky grin tugs on your face. You joke to him about how he just committed cannibalism when he ate the cinnamon roll, giggling slightly at your own joke.
Azul chuckles at your joke in return. “Hmm? I never took you for the teasing type, (Y/N). Regardless, it’s a welcomed surprise. Fufufu.” He says with a grin Jade and Floyd are acting like cheerleaders for Azul in the background.
He doesn’t seem too fazed nor does he react strongly on the outside. But the light pink hue creeping on his cheeks say otherwise. It’s a bit of a 50-50— noticing that he’s trying to obscure the coloring heat on his cheeks by “pushing his glasses to his eyes”. But if you do notice it, and maybe even point it out to him, he’ll simply dismiss it while the hue on his cheeks only spreads further.
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Kalim Al-Asim
Feasts with Kalim weren’t rare. He’d often invite you to Scarabia to have breakfast with him, among other things. You’re his favorite person after all! (Besides Jamil, of course). Scarabia’s feasts were always grand in its own way; laughter, joy, happiness, it was all present in Kalim’s feasts.
So you weren’t really surprised when Kalim suggested the idea of dinner with you. He promised fine dining (as always) and a starry night sky to watch while you ate; but you didn’t expect it to just be you two alone in the Scarabia Lounge. The ambiance was far different than normal occasions; it was quiet, serene, peaceful— but of course, there were still yours and Kalim’s laughter that’d break the silence.
Kalim happily munched on his cinnamon roll that Jamil cooked up for your dinner. It was supposed to be eaten as dessert after the main course, but hey, good food is good food and it should be free to eat at any time! Oh no...he’s starting to sound like Grim.
A quiet giggle slipped from your lips before you joked about Kalim and his cinnamon roll, which in turn made him laugh, accompanied by a light hue on his cheeks. He comments on how nice (yet weird) it was of you to say that, but you’re the sweet one here, he grins. Kalim’s not one to be too flustered over affectionate words or actions. He is an affectionate person, after all; but he still thinks its kind of you to say such a thing!
Afterward, it sort of becomes a competition on who can fluster the other one just enough with affection— whether it be in words or actions. Eventually, Jamil told you two to keep it down and how “disgustingly cheesy it was”, remarking that he could hear you both laughing all the way from the kitchen. In which you merely find amusement in hearing his complaints.
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Floyd Leech
Unlike the others, Floyd isn’t as formal about the entire thing. He just sort of popped in while you were having breakfast. His excuse was that he “wanted to see his favorite little Shrimpy before he has to go to the Mostro Lounge~!” and who were you to deny him?
Floyd was practically squeezing you on his lap the entire time you were eating, making it nearly impossible to even get a bite as he pulled you back from the food on the table. Eventually, he just starts spoonfeeding you. What? It’s nice for him to see Shrimpy take whatever he gives~
Before he’s able to spoonfeed you again; you slip in a cinnamon roll to his lips, Floyd looking at it rather curiously while you giggled. You muttered your “cannibalism” joke, and a puzzled expression crosses Floyd’s face. “Eh~? I don’t get what you mean, but that was pretty funny,” he chuckles.
You have to explain your joke to him, and when he finally gets it, a wide smile dances on his lips. He pulls you in for one of his squeezes, cheering on how he’s soooo happy to hear Shrimpy say that to him. Excuse his tight squeezing, he just can’t help it— Shrimpy’s just so cute!
Floyd gives you a handful of cinnamon rolls to munch on. And whenever you do, he repeats back the joke you told him, his smile never fading. This continues on for a while, and it takes a few phone calls from Azul to get his ass to the Mostro Lounge. Floyd, of course, wanted to stay with you, but you promise to visit him between classes and after they ended. Once he’s reconciled, he makes you promise that you eat together more often, and off he goes.
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Ruggie Bucchi
A day off for Ruggie from work means a day spent with you! You happily greet him when he first wakes up, giving him a kiss on the cheek which sends the colors of his cheeks fully pink. He’s happy to see you, but he wonders what you’re doing in Savanaclaw?
You offer to have brunch with him, showing him a lunchbox filled to the brim with meals that’d suffice for the both of you. You say you wanted him to relax for the day, now that Leona’s not going to ask him of any favors (or so you hoped), and you wanted to contribute to his day off by serving him food! He delightfully accepts.
It was mostly the doughnuts you fried that caught his attention (despite you telling him that it was for dessert). But he also made sure to try out other things, like cinnamon rolls! He comments on how perfectly fried they were, the right amount of sweet, soft, everything; he wasn’t used to eating something so sugary, but it was a welcomed experience (you have to eat what you can, right?)
A satisfied smile tugs on your lips. Suddenly, a joke slithered its way into your mind. And so the little “cannibalism” joke you came up with was uttered out, and Ruggie merely laughed. His cheeks coloring itself a rosy hue. “Shishishi, you’re cute. You know that, (Y/N)?” He says through his snickers. Ruggie reacts similarly to Kalim; but since he isn’t as affectionate as him or is as used to receiving it, he does get a tad visibly flustered.
He briefly ruffles your hair as a reward for your words. Afterward, he tells you that he’s going to cook next time you two hold such an occasion— you insist that you could cook for him, but he always turns it down. In the end, you give in and promise to him that you’re sure to be there when he cooks. He’s a good chef, so you’re in the right hands!
349 notes · View notes
dershloop · 3 years
Text
Cold Hands, Warm Heart
“Jeez Zane your hands are cold,” Jay said, taking his boyfriend's palm and spreading his fingers out, stroking his index finger down each of his fingers,”You can put it in my pocket if you want. My hands are pretty warm too so we can hold hands in my pocket.”
‘’Jay, you do realise I’m the elemental master of ice, right? I can create ice out of my hands, it stands to reason I’d be cold. I’m also a nindroid,” Zane said, raising his eyebrows with a small laugh.
“Well yeah, but it can’t be nice being so cold all the time,” Jay puffed out his cheeks indignantly, absentmindedly letting his hand run over Zane’s rough skin. It felt so human, so individually scarred. Every lump, blemish and line told a story. A story better than any human could wish to tell with their entire lives.
Zane just shrugged and smiled, watching and Jay traced a smile out on his palm.
“Either way, as long as you’re happy.”
“JJ, I’m perfectly happy whenever I’m around you. I couldn’t ask for anything more,” Zane said, wrapping his fingers around Jay’s with a smile. Jay frowned and rested his head on his shoulder, feeling the comforting chill run through him. There was something so… wonderfully juxtaposed about the feeling he got when he touched Zane. The ice shot through his veins like ivy lacing its poison into his blood, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind that whenever he moved away, the skin near Zanes own would turn an icy blue-purple or a rigid pale. He really didn't mind.
Yet… he did. The thought that Zane was constantly cold like this; he could feel human emotions, so why wouldn’t he be able to feel temperature? Dr. Julien was very intelligent, so he wouldn’t put it past him. On top of that, when they were trying to get the scroll of airjitzu, Zane wore a fluffy coat so he must feel the cold. That’s when it hit him. Jay stood up abruptly, causing Zane to jump a little.
“I have to go do some last-minute Christmas shopping. I think I forgot to get something for my moms… cat,” He said, walking towards the door and opening it.
“Jay your mom doesn’t have a cat? Your parents have no pets what are you-” He was cut off by the door slamming shut, leaving him all alone in his room. His shoulders sagged as he let out a long, sad sign, looking down at where Jay had just traced a smiley face on his pal. Had he said something wrong? It wasn’t like him to lie, mainly because he was so inexplicably bad at it but that was just weird.
“Ok I’ll see you later then,’’ He said quietly to himself, getting up and straightening his bedsheets and walking out of his room.
Squatting down on the couch, watching as Cole continuously died to the same enemy.
“Cole, are you even trying?” Kai laughed, poking Cole with his foot.
“Yes, actually Kai now shut up and let me concentrate,” Cole said sternly, pushing his boyfriend's foot away from him.
“Aren’t you supposed to learn from your mistakes in these sorts of video games Cole?” Zane chuckled as Cole died to the same enemy yet again.
“Hey, you just got here don’t take his side!”
“Speaking of,” Kai said, turning to face Zane, leaning back on Cole, causing him to fall down an easily jumpable gap, “What are you doing? I thought you and Jay were hanging in your room.” Zane sighed.
“We were. Then he got all weird and just jumped up and ran out saying he had to get a present for his mom's cat or something,” He shook his head, letting out a long breath.
“His mom doesn’t have a cat? They live in a junkyard in the middle of the desert there's no way a sane rescue place would give them a cat,” Cole said confused, finally putting down his controller.
‘’Did you say anything before that could have triggered whatever that was?” Kai asked. Zane shook his head, pulling his legs underneath himself and crossing them on the couch.
“It was just normal topics of conversation, then he started talking about how cold I was. Then he went all quiet for a couple of minutes, like he was lost in thought and just jumped up and ran out.”
“Eh,” Cole shrugged nonchalantly, picking up a can of soda off of the floor and opening it, taking a long swig and putting it back down onto the floor, “Knowing him he probably forgot something. Don’t worry too much Z, it’s probably nothing.”
“Yeah. Anyway, he isn’t here so it's not like we can ask him. Just chill with us and watch Cole die to the same mob 100 more times,” Kai said with a grin which was quickly snuffed out as Cole smacked him on the back of his head with a cushion. Zane laughed, unfolding his legs and laying them across his friends and leant back, watching the chaos that ensued.
(I can’t be bothered to write a middle thing for this so it's Christmas day now bc I said so)
“Zane! Wake up!” Jay yelled, shaking his sleeping boyfriend. He opened his eyes slowly taking in his surroundings, including the overly excited boy sitting on top of him.
“Good morning JJ,” Zane muttered, rubbing his eyes to clean his optical receptors of any dust that may have accumulated overnight.
“Guess what day it is?” He continued yelling.
“Friday?” Zane said with a mischievous grin.
“Christmas!” Jay yelled, finally flopping down on top of him, tired of yelling.
“Merry Christmas JJ.”
“Merry Christmas snowball.”
“Can I get out of bed now? The sooner I’m up the sooner you can see what I bought you,” Zane said with a smile, knowing exactly how to get him even more excited Jay jumped off with a smile and raced back to his own room, presumably to begin getting dressed and ready for the long day ahead. Zane began to do the same, swapping out the baggy shirt and sweatpants for a comfortable blue turtleneck and black jeans, before heading to brush his teeth and heading to the living room, where Cole and Jay were already assembled, sprawled out and excitedly chattering about the day ahead.
“No Kai?” Zane said, moving Jay’s head and sitting down, letting it fall back down into his lap.
“Nope,” Cole said, staring, fixated on his phone, “He’s doing his hair apparently,” He paused, before leaning back across the arm of the sofa and yelling to his boyfriend “Kai you’re gorgeous as it is come down before I come up there and drag you down!”
“Alright, Mr Mardy I’m coming!” Shouted Kai, not too long after appearing in the room and shifting Cole out of the way so he could sit down.
“What about Lloyd, Nya and Pix?” Kai said after sitting down.
“Lloyd’s with his mom and Wu, Nya and Pixal are at Cyrus Borg’s then said they were gonna go to your parent's place,” Jay replied, not looking away from Zane’s hand he was fiddling with.
“Well then. Who’s first?” Cole said, looking at the others.
“Me!” Jay jumped up and dived towards the pile of presents under the tree, grabbed 6 and handed 2 to each of them, “I hope you like them.”
Cole ripped into the packages and pulled out a rhino plushie with large round eyes and a small smile and a grey and green donkey plush with polka-dotted legs.
“Jay, buddy, I’d kiss you if Kai and Zane wouldn’t kick my ass for it,” Cole said, wrapping his arms around his new children with a large, goofy grin. They laughed as Kai wrapped his arm around Cole’s waist a little tighter.
Kai was next to finish unwrapping his gifts after he finally loosened his grip on Cole, pulling out a small, shiny, red pocket mirror with his name written on it in an explosive font. The second gift to fall out was a red bandana.
“You’d said about wanting to start wearing more headbands like the one Cole wears sometimes so I figured to help you both out I’d get you your own,” Jay said with a smile as Kai wrapped the red bandana under his bangs.
“Jay that’s so sweet what the heck?” Kai said, looking at his new bandana in his new mirror. Jay just shrugged, his cheeks turning a slight red tint.
“Zane’s turn!” Cole said, pushing himself up slightly, stretching his legs back over Jay and Zane’s.
Sheepishly, Zane began opening the first gift, revealing a large, fluffy penguin plush toy.
“Oh my gosh,” Zane said, holding it up and letting his hands run over the soft, his eyes wide with unfathomable joy, “This is adorable, thank you so much JJ,” He said quietly, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.
“Stop being gay and open the other one!” Cole complained, shoving his foot in Jay’s face and prodding at his nose and cheeks.
“Go away Cole no one likes you,” Jay said, pushing his foot away, glaring at his best friend.
Zane laughed and began to unwrap the second gift, opening his mouth in awe and surprise when he saw what it was.
“Why are there 13 hand warmers and 7 hot water bottles on my lap right now?” Zane said with a confused grin, looking down at the strange pile of items in his lap.
“Well,” Jay said, pushing himself up slightly, “Yesterday when we were talking about how cold you were, you didn’t say you couldn’t feel it. Plus, you wore a jacket when we went to get the scroll of airjitzu that one time and you feel human emotions so why wouldn’t you be able to. So I bought you hot water bottles and hand warmers to help warm you up.” He finished, looking expectantly up at Zane who sat there in shocked silence.
“So you weren’t getting a present for your mom's cat?” He said quietly.
“No my mom doesn't have a cat. I’m just god awful at lying.”
“Yes, I know she doesn’t. I just- I thought I’d said something wrong so you were mad at me,” Zane laughed, nervously touching the back of his neck.
“Do… Do you like it?”
“Of course I do blue-belle!” Zane said, pulling Jay up onto his lap and pushing a strong, affectionate kiss onto his lips before pulling him into a tight hug, which Jay happily reciprocated.
“If you don’t react like that to my present,” Kai whispered to Cole, “I’m taking them back and dumping you.”
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hoboal87 · 4 years
Text
Elastic Heart Chapter Thirteen
Title : Elastic Heart - Crowley
Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Cordelia Y/L/N
Pairing(s): Sam x Reader
Summary: Y/N and Cordy have started to settle into their new home when an enemy of Sam and Dean knocks on their door.
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: cursing, angst, TW: Torture (physical and mental), threats against a child, threats of kidnapping, CROWLEY IS NOT A NICE DUDE
A/N: Series is mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. For the purposes of this fic Sam was born in ‘84 instead of '83.
A/N 2: Please read the warnings! 
A/N 3: This chapter uses dialogue from 8x23 “Sacrifice”
Beta’d by @deanwinchesterswitch​
Elastic Heart Masterlist
Read Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen - Crowley
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“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, stepping over the threshold into my home. He looks around for a moment, a smug grin creeping across his face. “Moose and Squirrel thought they could hide you from me, but as always, they underestimate me.”
I’m unable to stop him as he moves further into the house. My eyes dart to the kitchen, hoping that Cordy stays in there until I can get this stranger out of the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe the rumors aren’t true.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in his voice.
Rumors? “What do you want?”
“Oh, Y/N, I don’t even know where to start.” My heart stops at his use of my name. He lets out a low, breathy chuckle. “Squirrel’s head on a platter, Moose under my command, serving in his rightful place, and you’re going to help me get what I want.”
“Who are you?” I ask, trying to cover the fear in my voice.
“Name’s Crowley.” He walks into my living room, his voice is calm, but underneath I can sense he’s dangerous. “Been watching you for some time now, Y/N, since before you left that godforsaken town in Texas, lucky for you, I’m a patient man.” He’s been watching me? “It’s fate, darling, that you’re in Lawrence. Surely you know this is the same town in which he was born, where his mother died?” I don’t answer. “Now, the only family he has left is in the same place his family fell apart.”
“Y/N,” Cordy comes out from the kitchen. The man’s eyes widen at the sight of her, a look of smugness washes over his face. “Who is it?”
“Cordy,” I try my best to keep all worry out of my voice. I have to get her out of the house, “how about you go over to Ms. Cynthia’s and play with Ava?” I try to keep my voice steady, not wanting to alarm her.
“This must be her.” His eyes narrow on Cordy. “She’s the spitting image of him; how no one put it together sooner is beyond me.” A sly smile creeps over his face. “Hello sweetie, you can call me Uncle Crowley.”
Her eyes dart between the man and me, and she doesn’t move. I move towards Cordy, and I can feel the man’s eyes on me, watching my every step.
“Cordelia Mary, look at me,” I say, pulling her attention back to me. “Go over and play with Ava, I’ll come over to get you in a little while.”
She hesitates, and I keep a fake smile on my face as she makes her way towards the front door. She stops in front of me. “I don’t want to leave you, Y/N,” Cordy whispers, throwing her arms around my waist, holding on to me tightly.
“Yes, Y/N, let her stay,” he taunts, taking another step closer to us. “I do love to play.”
I gently pry her arms off of me and guide her out the front door. She stands on the porch for a moment, watching as I do everything to mask my fear.
He leans in whispering in my ear, “I could snap her neck like a twig.” Panic fills me as he stares into my eyes. I can feel them watering, and I nod slightly.
“Stay at Ava’s until I come and get you. You don’t have to worry about me.” I close the gap between us, lower myself down to meet her eye-level, and wrap my arms tight around her. “Remember what Sam told you? About the angels?” She nods. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
She takes a step back, and I give her a reassuring smile. I can feel Crowley behind me, watching as Cordy walks to Cynthia’s across the street. As soon as I see the door open and she disappears into the house, I let out a strangled breath. When I turn around, he’s only inches away and takes a step to the side; with a flick of his fingers, the door behind me slams shut. My heart drops, and I turn back around, desperately trying to open it. He chuckles at my attempts, before yanking me away.
“Whatever you want, leave her out of it,” I say with all the courage I can muster. “I don’t know who you think we are-”
“You’re exactly who I think you are, darling,” he says sharply. “I didn’t believe my source at first, thought she was sending me on some wild goose chase, but there is no denying it. That is the child of Sam Winchester.”
“She’s not–” I splutter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There’s no point in lying, darling.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “There’s been quite enough of that already,“ he laughs snidely. "Angels weren’t the only ones keeping tabs on you.”
“Who are you? What do you want from us?”
“I hate repeating myself,” he growls. “Crowley, King of Hell.” He snaps his fingers, and I’m forced into a chair, unable to move. “You and that little bastard Winchester, are going to help me get what I want.”
“Fuck you.” I spit out. I squirm against the chair, trying with all my strength to move, but as hard as I try, I can’t fight my way out. Castiel, if you can hear me, I’m in trouble, and I need your help.
“Feisty one, aren’t we?” he quips. “I like a girl with a little fight in her.”
I continue to struggle against the invisible force holding me down. He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he’s holding a bottle of amber liquid and glass.
“In a moment such as this, one needs a drink,” he declares while filling the glass. “You, my dear, are going to be in for such a treat. Nothing brings me more joy than watching the Winchesters suffer.”
“They won’t let you hurt me. They’ll be here any second, and they’ll stop you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, darling.” He leans forward, a smug smile forming on his lips. “My sources tell me that those morons aren’t aware that you’re in Lawrence. They’re under the impression that you’re still in Weldon.” He brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Tsk tsk tsk. I could move you across the country before they even realize you’re gone. Or maybe,” he takes another drink, “I’ll just leave your body for them to find, that is, whatever’s left.”
“Fuck you.”
“Very well then, perhaps I’ll go to your neighbors and have a chat with little Cordelia,” he smirks, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. “You’ll find I can be very persuasive.”
“Don’t.” My heart is thudding in my chest. “You even go near her and I’ll–”
“You’ll what, darling?” He grins slyly and produces a long silver blade, admiring it as he slices through the air. My eyes widen as I suck in a nervous breath. “Now, are you going to do as you’re told?”
Cas, if you can hear me, I need your help.
I clench my jaw and don’t respond, trying to hold my own against him. He’s out of the chair and in front of me instantly, holding the blade against my throat. I whimper as I feel a trickle of blood flow down my neck.
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Are you going to cooperate?” I nod defeatedly. “Good girl. You’re going to convince those idiot Winchesters to hand something over to me, something that belongs to me. Understood?”
“Why me?” I mumble, hoping that I can stall him until Cas answers my prayers. “We don’t– we’re not hunters, we’re not in that life.”
“That’s what makes this even more delicious,” He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip. “If you were, you’d know how to ward your home, keep things like me out. Moose just left you vulnerable to any sort of attack.” His words sting; I keep telling myself that there isn’t any truth to it. “It’s usually the first thing they teach someone, Devil’s Trap, simple enough for anyone to learn. Would’ve kept me from doing this.” He snaps his fingers, and pain radiates throughout my body. His eyes narrow as I silently struggle. “Interesting.”
He snaps again, and the pain slowly dissipates, before rising again. He repeats this over and over for what feels like hours. I’m a sobbing mess when he finally stops. Please, Cas.
“You know, our boy Sam has been getting his hands very dirty for quite some time now, and you two may be the only things that can keep him in line. You see, darling, you’re what they call leverage.” He finishes the glass and pours himself another drink. “If you’re not enough, little Cordelia may be the exact motivation those piles of flannel need.” His phone rings, pulling his attention away from me; he stares at it for a moment before looking back in my direction. “Do as you’re told, darling.” He taps a button on the phone and lays it down on the arm of his chair. “Moose! I was wondering when you’d finally call.”
“We’re finishing the Trials, Crowley. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.” The sound of Sam’s voice through the small speaker fills me with a temporary sense of relief.
“Are you sure about that? Because I’ve been having quite the lovely chat with someone who may be able to convince you otherwise. Say ‘hello,’ darling.” Crowley walks towards me, holding the phone out until it’s in front of me.
“Whatever you’re trying to pull, it isn’t gonna work.” Crowley’s eyes narrow as he watches me react to Sam’s voice on the phone. “It’s over, you lose.” Crowley arches an eyebrow and smiles at me. He’s enjoying this.
“Cooperate, darling,” Crowley hisses, waiting for me to speak. “Not talking, eh? We can fix that.” He growls, and suddenly a burning sensation spreads from my shoulder to my fingertips, as some invisible force pulls it into an unnatural position. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, doing everything I can not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the pain I’m in. “Oh, I like this one, Moose. She’s tougher than she looks. Let’s see what we can do about that.” Crowley looks at me pointedly for a moment, and his lips curl.
Before I can comprehend what he’s smiling about, the force on my arm increases. Tears fill my eyes, and the taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite the inside of my cheek, desperately trying not to give in to Crowley’s demands.
“I wish you could see the look on her face. She’s trying so hard to be strong. But…” Another pull on my arm, snaps the bone, and I scream, unable to do anything else. “I always get what I want.”
“SAM!” I barely recognize my voice as I shriek out his name.
“Y/N/N?!” His voice is faint through the buzzing in my ears. I let out a sob as the pain radiates through me. “Is that you? Talk to me, baby, let me know you’re okay.”
“It’s her, Sam.” My vision has blurred, but I can still make out the smug smile on Crowley’s face. “Did you really think you could keep Y/N and that little bastard of yours hidden from me?”
“Stay away from them!” Sam’s voice roars through the phone speaker.
“Too late for that one, Moose. I don’t know why I didn’t think of using them sooner. Tommy never stood a chance. Tell me, what was it like staring into Sarah’s face as she took her last breath? Knowing you allowed another child to be raised without their mother? You won’t see Y/N’s, and who knows what’ll happen to little Cordelia.”
“No, no, no,” I whimper. Crowley lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he continues torturing me with his words. Castiel, I need your help.
“I have connections everywhere, boys, you should know that by now. But can you imagine my surprise when Y/N and Cordelia show up at the only place I have one of my plants in a hundred miles? That’s serendipitous.”
“You go anywhere near her, and I swear to God–” Sam threatens, voice full of anger and frustration.
“You’ll what?” Crowley snaps his fingers, and it feels like white-hot pokers are being dragged along my veins. “You think you can stop me from doing this?” I scream out again as his knife slashes across my skin.
“Take your hands off of her!”
“Oh, believe me, Samantha, if my hands were on her, you’d know.”
He snaps again, and I let out a shaky breath as the pain subsides. I know it won’t last long. Crowley’s getting off on torturing me both physically and mentally. I try to prepare myself for whatever he may do or say next. The sudden sound of a dog growling somewhere from behind startles me, and I turn away in disgust as a rancid puff of air wafts across my cheek.
“You know, I’m quite disappointed in you,” sarcasm bleeds from his lips. “Knocking up some small-town girl, then just walking away? That’s not a move I’d expect from you, Samuel. But the pièce de résistance? Walking away without leaving some sort of protection for your whore and the little bastard. You know what’s stopping me from getting Cordelia?” Crowley’s eyes narrow on me, “nothing, except the fact that I want you to listen as I rip Y/N’s last breath from her. Come to think of it, maybe I’ll go to the neighbor’s house and bring Cordelia back here. Let her watch as I slit Y/N’s throat.”
“Y/N/N, don’t listen to him,” Sam’s voice cuts through the air. “Whatever he says, you can’t believe him. Demons lie. We’re– I’m gonna stop him.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Crowley sneers. “Tell me, do you even know where your precious Y/N and Cordelia are?”
“O-of course,” Sam stammers. Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that I did the one thing I promised Sam I wouldn’t do, I took Cordy and left. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it.
“Kansas,” my voice is weak, barely above a whisper, and every logical part of my brain is telling me that Sam can’t hear me, but I try to tell him anyway. “We’re in La-”
I feel a grip around my throat, cutting off my air supply as I try to choke out the words.
“Ah, ah, ah, darling,” Crowley berates me. “Let’s not spoil the surprise, shall we?
“Le- go,” I beg him, “pl- any-”
“What was that? Did you say anything, darling?” Still unable to speak, I nod in response. “That is a poor choice of words.” Crowley sets the phone down, saunters over and pats the air next to my shoulder, “stand down, Juliet.” The growling fades away as he leans in closer and grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back. “I could have you tied down and gagged, begging for death, and while I’d be happy to oblige, it wouldn’t quite scratch the itch.
“Maybe I should have one of my demons possess you,” Crowley eyes the charm hanging around my neck and lowers his voice. “Jolly Green would never suspect such a thing. He’d be so happy to have you back. Then, when the time is just right, I’d have you watch as he dies by your hand. Can you imagine the look on his face, watching the love of his life slice him open? You’d be a captive audience, allowed to watch as he draws his last breath, feel the warmth of his blood as it flows from his wounds, maybe even get a little taste. Squirrel would be devastated. There’s nothing that he wants more than for Moose to get his happy ending. Watching him unravel as he realizes there’s no way to bring back his precious Sammy? Well, that would be simply sublime.” He lets go of me and takes another drink from the glass. “No demon will deal with him, not again. Sam Winchester will be dead, for good this time.”
“This time?” I gasp as the pressure on my throat is released.
“Ah, it seems those flannel-wearing idiots haven’t shared everything with you. Can’t say I blame them, that lumberjack has died so many times, who can keep track?” He lets out a dry laugh, and I close my eyes in a desperate attempt to calm myself. “Surely he told you how he let Lucifer out of his cage in Hell? No? Or how he let Dean rot away in Purgatory for a year?”
The anger in Sam’s voice is almost palpable as it booms through the small phone, and I tilt my head, almost expecting to see him standing next to the chair. He alternates between threatening Crowley and begging me not to listen to the demon. Crowley continues to ramble, and I try not to react to his goading, hoping I can keep him talking until Cas shows up.
“Samantha tried to live a normal life.” Crowley walks over and picks up the phone. “Surely, he told you about the girl he gave up everything for?” I want to scream, tell him to shut up, and I can see the joy spread across his face as he riles me up. “C’mon Sam, tell us all about the girl that made you leave everything you’ve ever known. I’m sure Y/N is just dying to know why you chose another woman over her. Over your daughter.”
“I– I didn’t. Y/N/N, please, you can’t believe him. When all of this is over, I’ll explain everything.”
“I think we’d all love to hear it, Moose. Come now, share with the class,” Crowley intones. “Better yet, explain to Dean just how easy it was for you to walk away. You didn’t even think twice about it, did you? Just left poor Kevin to the wolves, so to speak. Dean was fighting for his life, and you were living in Texas with a girl and a dog.”
Sam’s breaths come hard and fast as he sputters out denials. Dean’s muffled ‘motherfucker’ filters through the discord.
“He was so close, darling, only a few hours away, and yet, he didn’t even bother to contact you, did he? No, Samantha found some other little whore to fill the emptiness. Gave up looking for his brother, for her. Gave up a life of hunting for her.”
I keep repeating Sam’s words in my head, demons lie.
“He didn’t do that for you, did he? No, he ran away.”
“He didn’t– it wasn’t his fault,” I argue feebly, not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. “He loves me; he wouldn’t have left if he’d known-”
“Are you sure about that, darling?”
“Y/N, don’t listen to him,” the low timbre of Dean’s voice comes through the phone.
“We’d been keeping track of Y/N for years,” Sam and Dean are silent. “Oh, boys, did you think that Feathers and all those other idiot angels were the only ones who knew about Y/N? That’s just naive. You know Lilith was planning on using her next if Ruby couldn’t get the job done?”
“Fuck you,” Sam growls. “Leave her alone, Crowley.”
“Didn’t tell her about Ruby, either? You just love keeping your secrets, don’t you?” Crowley’s lips curl as Sam goes silent. “Got you nice and addicted to-”
“Shut it, Crowley!”
“You had so many chances to track her down. Admit it; you hadn’t thought about Y/N in years. If you had, it wouldn’t have taken ten years and a Shtriga to get you back to that one-horse town. We thought Jessica’s death would’ve sent you running back, but no, your unhealthy, co-dependent relationship with your brother and need for revenge consumed every part of you, didn’t it, Sam? Every choice you made after that took you further away from Y/N.”
I remember Sam saying he dreamt of Jessica’s death. Did he know that this was gonna happen? That Crowley would come after us? I knew he wasn’t telling me something, but I never realized just how dangerous the monsters that Sam fought could be, and apparently, he decided not to warn me. Crowley is making a point that I don’t want to believe: Sam chose to stay away for all those years.
“Alright, Boris, enough with the monologuing.” Dean’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Y/N, listen to me; whatever Crowley tells you, you can’t believe a word he says.”
“Let her hear it from the source then,” Crowley says with a coy grin. “Tell us, Sam. Tell Y/N why you never came back, why you chose girl after girl instead of her?”
“It wasn’t like that, Y/N.” Sam’s voice is filled with desperation. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it. “I always wanted to come back to you-to our family.”
“Your family,” Crowley mocks Sam. “Rumors about a Winchester child went around for years.“ Crowley directs his next comments to me. "But no one could find her; someone went to great lengths to cover up her existence. Had a spell of protection cast over her shortly after she was born. Lucky for me, it was only a matter of time before you crossed paths with that lumbering idiot again.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter.
“Eloquent, aren’t we?” Crowley chuckles. “You know, I’m normally much more patient, but when I heard about the trials, I just knew it was time to act. All I had to do was give Samantha a nudge here, a well-placed article there, et voila, it was like taking candy from a baby,” Crowley refills his glass. “One of my lieutenants was already in place when those two heaping piles of flannel crossed the town’s lines. You still had so much resentment for your parents you didn’t even notice the change in your father’s behavior, did you, Y/N? Would you like to know the real cause of that accident?”
Crowley sneers as I cut him off with a scream. “No!”
“Oh, yes, darling. Sometimes you just have to pull the strings of fate in the right direction,” he snaps his fingers once again, sending lightning bolts of pain coursing through me. “Now let’s talk about the little one, should I bring her back and let her watch you die? Or should I leave your body for her to find?”
Panic replaces the pain coursing through me, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Maybe, I’ll just turn her into one of my loyal followers.”
No, no, no. I can see the pleasure Crowley takes in my fear. Sam’s voice rings out tense and full of condemnation as he continues to yell at Crowley.
“I’d have little Cordelia calling me ‘father’ in no time, it would be the ultimate power.”
My body vibrates with rage as he releases his hold. “You stay away from her. I’ll kill you if you lay a finger on her.”
“There it is.” There’s a smugness in his voice. “I see now exactly why Sam chose you. I didn’t at first, but now, with your mama bear instincts coming out? You are the perfect vessel to carry on the Winchester bloodline. Crowley turns his focus back to the phone in his hand. “What’s it gonna be, boys? You’ve got two minutes to make your decision. Finish the Trials, or save your precious family.”
The tightness around my throat returns, slowly cutting off my air supply. Please, Cas, help.
“We’ll deal. You stop, we’ll stop.” I can practically hear Sam pacing the floor of whatever room he is in. “Now, let her go.”
“First, we must discuss terms, gigantor. I want the Demon Tablet, the whole Demon Tablet. Then we’ll talk about what to do with the girls.” After several moments of strained silence, Crowley grows impatient. “Tick-tock, boys. Little Cordelia could walk in on us at any moment. I’d hate for her to have to watch her mother die. It’s an awful thing, isn’t it, Moose? Watching someone you love die right before your eyes.”
“Fine, then we get the angel tablet,” Dean’s voice fills the air.
“On what grounds?” Crowley argues.
“On the grounds that you’re a douchebag, and no one should have that much power.”
“Fine. Now about Y/N and the little one,” Crowley’s lips curl as I feel my throat closing.
“They’ve got nothing to do with any of this, we’ve agreed to your terms, now let Y/N go.”
“You’re right, Y/N doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use her in every depraved way I can think of, have a bit of fun with her.”
“Fuck you,” Sam snarls, “if you even think about laying a finger on her, I’ll kill you and every fucking demon that gets in my way.”
“Such a flirt, Samantha. Your dear Y/N is running out of time, and you want foreplay? I’m touched. Once she’s gone, little Cordelia will be mine for the taking. Azazel had the right idea; I could make myself a child-army. I wonder, Sam, did she inherit your predilection for demon blood?”
“Listen here, you son of a bitch.”
“No, you listen. You will stop the Trials and give me the tablet, or Moose’s whore is gonna bite the dust. What’s more important? Completing the trials or letting Y/N die? Will you let her become another innocent casualty in your quest to save the world? It’s up to you, Sasquatch, what’s it going to be?”
“Let me talk to her, Crowley,” Sam’s voice cuts through the haziness of my brain.
“You don’t trust me, Moose? I’m hurt.”
“Prove to me that she’s still alive.” Crowley rolls his eyes, and the grip on my neck loosens. I gasp for air as he brings the phone closer to me. “Y/N/N, talk to me, please, baby.” I choke back a sob. “C’mon Y/N/N, let me know you’re okay.”
“S-m,” I plead, “don- g- Cordy.“ Crowley lets out a deep chuckle.
“Y/N/N, you’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let him hurt you or Corie.”
“One minute.”
Tears press against my eyes, and I try to blink them away, not wanting Crowley to see my weakness.
“Maybe I’ll kill the little one first.” He rubs his thumb against my cheek, brushing away the traitorous tear that slipped free. “Let Y/N watch as I slit her throat.” Crowley’s voice is apathetic as it continues to torture me with his words. “Or maybe I’ll just take her with me to Hell; every child needs a father. Start her reprogramming immediately. She’s young enough. I’m sure within a few months, I could make her do anything I want. Now, shall I have her kill you or Squirrel first?”
“Fuck you,” Sam growls.
“Ah, the Winchester Wit, do you think Cordelia has that same mastery of language you have? Keep it up, and you’ll never know. Thirty seconds, Moose.“
Please, Castiel. I continue to pray silently as my vision begins to blur.
"I’ll stop the trials,” Sam mumbles, his voice so low I can barely understand him.
“What was that? Louder, Sam, so that Y/N can hear you.”
“I’ll stop,” Sam huffs, “now let her go.”
“I just need two little words from you,“ Crowley’s lips curve into a sneer, and he narrows his eyes back on the phone. "I surrender.”
Crowley’s fingers curl around nothing, and the pressure around my neck becomes unbearable. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my lungs are burning as my vision tunnels, darkness consuming it, but my only thought is for Cordy. Sam’s voice comes low through the phone, but I can’t make out his words.
Before the darkness completely takes over, the tightness around my neck loosens, and I take in long deep breaths, coughing as I exhale. Crowley is still wearing a smug smile; Sam must’ve told him what he wanted to hear.
"Pleasure doing business with you, boys.” Crowley ends the call and pockets the phone before turning his attention back on me. “This wasn’t personal; you mustn’t believe it was.” He sounds almost remorseful as he brings his attention back to me. “You and the little one were just a means to an end.” With a snap of his fingers, I find myself free from the unseen restraints. “As long as Moose and Squirrel keep up their end, my demons will stay away from you and Cordelia.” Crowley moves to place a hand on my shoulder.
“Touch me, and I’ll kill you,” I growl at him, adrenaline still pumping through me.
“Careful, darling. It may not have been about you, but I meant what I said. I’ll do things to you that will make you wish for death. The boys may have made a deal, but you didn’t. You could be in worse shape.”
“Why?” I mutter. “Why us?”
“I told you, darling, nothing motivates a Winchester better than threatening someone they love. Sam Winchester’s daughter and his former flame? You are the ultimate bargaining chips…”
I tune him out as my mind begins to race. This—this is the very reason why John wanted Sam to stay away. The reason why we could never be together. Dean said it himself, Crowley was using Cordy and me to get to him and Sam. I should’ve never told him the truth. I should’ve let him believe whatever John said to him that night.
“…next generation of Winchesters. Take care, darling.” he disappears before my eyes, leaving me alone in the empty house. My legs wobble as I stand, and I hold on to the furniture to keep myself upright. I make it to the front walkway before my legs give out, and I collapse against the wall, uncontrollable sobs leaving me.
I cradle my arm against my chest, and pain radiates from my shoulder with the slightest movement. I know I need a doctor. I foolishly pray to Cas again. Why would Sam tell me to pray to him if it wasn’t going to work? I should’ve known better than to trust that some angel was going to appear to save me.
Every instinct is telling me to go straight to Cordy and wrap her in my arms. I need to know that she is safe, that Crowley didn’t go after her anyway. Crowley said he had connections everywhere. Could Cynthia or Tom be possessed? Did sending her away do more harm than good? My mind is swimming with worry for her safety.
My legs shake as I stand back up, and I compose myself as best I can. I wrap my arm as carefully in a large ace bandage, wanting to shield Cordy from the aftermath as much as I can. I’m walking towards the door when I hear a light rapping, and panic starts filling my body again. Crowley had just proven to me that anyone or anything could walk into our house, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice fills the air. “It’s Cynthia; Cordy asked me to come check on you.”
I open the door just enough to peer out to confirm it is Cynthia standing there. I pull Sam’s necklace over my head and pass it through the opening, “can you put this on, please?” I say through the small space, Cynthia looks at me curiously but complies. I wait a moment to see if there is any kind of reaction before letting out a relieved sigh and opening the door wider.
“Y/N!” Cynthia exclaims as she takes in my disheveled appearance. “What happened?”
The night of the werewolf attack replays in my head, and how much it pained me to lie about what happened then, how I have to lie again.
“Me and my two left feet,” I lie and let out a weak laugh. “Tried to break my fall, and landed bad,” I shake my head and try to keep my voice as steady as I can.
“Hon,” she takes another step forward, gently grabbing my arm. An involuntary hiss leaves me, and tears fill my eyes. Her eyes land on the dried blood, where Crowley lacerated my shoulder. “A fall wouldn’t cause that.” A choked sob leaves me; I don’t know how to lie my way out of this. “I think you need to let me take you to the hospital.”
“I c-can’t ask you to do t-that, Cynthia.” I shake my head. I hate being this helpless. “Cordy, I need to see Cordy.”
“Cordy’s fine, Y/N,” she walks me over to the couch. “She and Ava are watching a movie.” She looks me over again; concern etched on her face. “Whatever happened, Y/N, you can tell me,” Cynthia softens her voice. “If someone attacked you–”
“No one attacked me,” I lie again, knowing I can’t tell her the truth. Cynthia frowns, doubtful of what I’m telling her. I pick something as close to the truth as I can. “When I was a teenager, I survived an animal attack,” I sigh.
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” Cynthia reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I’m mostly okay, but it caused me to start having panic attacks. Most of the time, I can calm myself down before they get really bad,” I gage her reaction. “But, my usual methods weren’t working, and I didn’t want Cordy to see me like that, that’s why I sent her over,” she nods as if she understands. “I was trying to get upstairs so that I could take my medication, and that’s when I fell.”
“That doesn’t explain the cuts on your shoulder and neck, Y/N,” she gently pries.
“It’s nothing, really,” I mumble, shaking my head. Cynthia’s forehead wrinkles, and her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t question me further. I lean my head back, and when I close my eyes, Cordy’s worried face is the only thing I can see. My heart begins to race, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Cordy!”
“She’s at my house, Y/N,” Cynthia attempts to calm me, but I jerk away when she reaches out. “Look at me, Y/N,” she demands softly, “where’s your medicine? Upstairs?”
I nod, mumbling “bathroom, sertraline,” in between ragged breaths. Cynthia returns with the bottle and a glass of water before I even realize that she’d left. She hands me two pills along with the glass, making sure that my trembling hand has a firm grip on it before sitting down. Once I swallow the medicine, Cynthia takes the glass from me and sets it on the coffee table. She squeezes my hand reassuringly and quietly sits next to me until my breathing begins to even out, and tensed muscles start to relax.
“Let me take you to the hospital, Y/N, I insist.”
By the time Cynthia and I are back from the hospital, it’s almost midnight. My arm is wrapped in a cast and perched in a sling. Cynthia walks us into my living room, setting a white bag with pain medicine on the coffee table. She props pillows behind me as I take a seat before her phone rings. She steps away, and I gather she’s talking to her husband, saying she doesn’t know when she’ll be home and that Cordy would be staying over.
“I can go get her,” I stand up from the couch as Cynthia walks back towards me, putting her phone away. “I don’t want to be a bother to you any more than I already have tonight.”
“Y/N, please,” Cynthia gently reaches for my good arm. “You need rest, and Cordy’s sleeping already. Let her stay over; it’s only going to worry her more if you come and get her in the middle of the night.”
“Are you sure? I know we haven’t gotten the chance to really know each other yet–”
“Y/N,” Cynthia lifts her hand to stop me. “You’re a single mom, and new around here, and you’ve already had a rough night. I’ve been there, and believe me, I know how hard it can be. Can I call anyone for you?” She asks as she retrieves a pill from the orange bottle, and I shake my head. “No family?” I shake my head again as she hands me one, and I swallow it dry. “No one at all?”
“It’s just the two of us,” my eyes drift over to a silver picture frame. “I’m an only child. My parents died in a car accident a few months ago. Cordy was in the car with them when it happened.”
“My God,” Cynthia gasps. “Y/N, I– I can’t imagine.”
“Thank you, we’re still adjusting, my parents–” I debate whether telling her the whole story. Maybe another time. “They were my whole support system.”
“What about Cordy’s dad? Is he around?”
“I don’t want to talk about her dad,” I snap back at her unintentionally.
“I’m sorry,” Cynthia’s face pinks up with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Guilt rises in me, it’s an innocent enough question, and I know she doesn’t mean to cause the reaction in me that it does. “No, please don’t apologize, you didn’t know. Cordy’s dad and me, it’s–”
“Complicated?”
“To put it mildly,” I let out a small chuckle, and we both relax. “He wants to be a part of our lives, but his job takes him all over the country, and Cordy needs stability in her life, not a dad who comes and goes.”
She lets out a sigh. “Like I said, Y/N, I’ve been there. If you ever want to talk about it, please don’t hesitate.”
Cynthia stays with me for another hour before going home and promising to send Cordy back first thing in the morning. I’m making my way up to my bedroom when I hear a rustling. My whole body tenses, knowing that just like before, I have no way of stopping another monster or demon from walking into my house. I turn around and see Cas standing in the front walkway, and for a moment, I relax.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have come sooner, Y/N,” Cas’ face remains unreadable as the two times I’d seen him before. As I close the distance between us, my relief is instantly replaced with rage. “But, I was otherwise engaged–” I cut him off with a slap to the face.
“You were ‘otherwise engaged’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I shout as I ball up my fist and pound it against Cas’ chest. “Sam said you would come if I prayed to you! Why didn’t you come? Didn’t you hear it?”
“Yes,” His face and voice stay emotionless. “The situation seemed to be under control.”
“Under control?” My face hardens, and I clench my jaw. It takes all of my willpower not to hit him again. “You call me being attacked in my own home, mine and my daughter lives being threatened ‘under control’? He tortured me just to get to Sam.”
“We had no reason to believe that Crowley was going to come after you. We were told by higher authorities that the demons weren’t aware of you or Cordelia. Clearly, they were incorrect.”
“Clearly,” I scoff and take a few steps back.
“I understand you’re upset, Y/N,” Cas responds coldly, speaking only in statements of fact. “Sam and Dean will have Crowley in their grasp soon enough; they won’t let him harm you or Cordelia. You must understand, Y/N, this is for the greater good.”
“The greater good is not my concern, Cas. The only thing I care about is my daughter. Do you know what he said to me? What he told me he would do to me? To Cordy?”
“I am sorry, Y/N. The angels assured us you were never in any real danger. If you were, I would have interceded sooner.”
“No real danger?” I gesture to my injured arm, “You call this no danger?”
“I can fix that,” he says and reaches out to touch my forehead.
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I slap his hand away. “I can’t believe I ever thought that I could have a normal life with Sam,” I say more to myself than Cas. “He says he wants to protect us, but how is he gonna do that?” I’m rambling, and Cas stands to the side watching.
“Crowley was only using you to get to Sam and Dean,” Cas says as if it should give me some sort of comfort.
“You don’t think I know that, Cas?” I snap back. “He told me. I will not allow my daughter to be used as a way to keep Sam and Dean under control. We will not be pawns in whatever game they are playing at. We’re done. I’m done. Two months ago, Sam scared me enough to think he would hurt me intentionally, and now I find out that they are letting people die, just so what? What is so important that they would let that happen? Tell me, Cas,” I demand.
“Sam,” Cas hesitates. “Sam is completing a series of tests, and when they’re completed, it will seal up the gates of Hell. Crowley doesn’t want that; he needs Earth to fuel his deals and keep his demons satisfied. Ever since he found out about the Trials, Crowley has been doing everything he can to stop Sam from finishing them. I don’t know how he found out about you or Cordelia.“
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “He knows, and I’m done with all of you, angels, demons, fucking werewolves, and soul-eaters. If fate was going to bring Sam and me back together, just for this to happen, then fuck fate.”
“Y/N, if I’d have thought that you were in danger, I would’ve been here with you tonight and not allowed Crowley to step through the door.” There’s a sincerity in his voice that I had yet to hear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.”
“You didn’t protect me at all, Cas.” I throw his words back at him. “None of you did. If I would’ve known something like this would happen, I would’ve lied to Sam.” I let my emotions drive my next words. “I’m done with all of it. All of you. Just leave.”
“I am putting up warding around your house. Neither Crowley nor any other demon will not be able to step inside. I am sorry, Y/N, it was never our intention for any harm to come to you.”
“Sure,” I huff, trying to fight back my tears. “I’m supposed to believe you now? After what happened tonight?”
“I give you my word, Y/N. You and Cordelia will be under my protection from now on.”
“Somehow, I don’t find any comfort in that, Cas,” I grumble. “Please, get out of my house.”
“Y/N,” Cas softens his voice; it’s almost soothing. “I will never ignore another prayer from you or Cordelia.”
“I can’t–” I choke out. “Please, go.”
“You are safe now, Y/N. Both of you are safe.” Cas hesitantly nods and reaches out, gently squeezing my shoulder before vanishing with a rush of air.
Next Chapter
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neerasrealm · 4 years
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SPEAKING OF LAUGHING JACK FLUFF- whenever you're not busy writing something else, can I get some LJ fluff? I'll accept anything I just need m o r e, sick day fluff, general fluff or s/o, comfort fluff, crack fluff,,,anything just LJ fluff ily and I need to keep loving my man
I had some trouble coming up with ideas for this ngl but then my brain went "how would LJ react to a human asking him out on a date?" And I went with that 😌 hope you like it. It's- actually not that fluffy when I read back over it but....still got a lotta goofy clowning so, I think it counts!
You’re obsessed with him.
You see him every few days, down the local park when you’re out taking a walk. He’s always in the same spot. The children’s playground, surrounded by smiling kids while he gives out candy and balloons and does tricks for them. It’s impressive, honestly, how he’s able to do everything he does. He holds the kid’s attention perfectly, he always seems to have what they ask for just- hiding in his puffy sleeves, he plays the accordion and sings in an angelic voice, creates amazing balloon animals and juggles- oh god the juggling, it’s unreal how much stuff he can juggle at once. Not to mention how flexible he is. You’ve seen him do all sorts of tricks like cartwheels, somersaults, flips and god knows what else. And he has the biggest, brightest smile you’ve ever seen. When he smiles it lights up his whole face and spreads to everyone around him, not to mention his laugh! He’s the funniest guy you’ve ever met, and when he laughs it seems to make everyone around him feel better.
His name is Jack, and you’re hoping to catch him again this evening. He usually leaves just as it’s beginning to get dark, so he’ll probably have more time to speak with you once the kids are gone. There’s so much you want to ask him- he’s fascinatingly weird. You’ve begun to think of him as some kind of supernatural being rather than a cute street performer. You laugh a bit at the thought.
As you approach the playground you glance around. Finally, you spot him. Wispy black hair, feathered shoulder pads, and striped socks. Jack certainly knows how to make himself stand out, as if his height wasn’t already enough. He doesn’t even need bright colours to stand out- in fact he avoids them and wears only blacks, whites and greys. Another thing to make him look weird. Maybe even a little monstrous.
Jogging over to the playground’s entrance, you lean ever-so-casually against the gate and wait until he walks out, past you. You watch him for a moment, admiring the way his hair bounces as he cheerfully strides along. You lean off the gate and walk after him. ‘’Hey, Jack!’’ you call out casually. He stops and looks over his shoulder, blinking at you. Then he smiles wide.
‘’Oh! ‘Ey there!’’ he turns around and waves slightly as you walk up. You can’t help but smile gently. He has such sweet, innocent eyes. They’re a bright blue colour, and always full of emotion. ‘’y/n, innit?’’
You laugh gently. Oh yeah, he’s british. Very british. The thickest accent you’ve ever heard. ‘’Hey.’’ you greet. ‘’Heading home?’’
‘’Yup.’’ he tilts his head at you, his hands on his hips. ‘’Wha’re you up ta?’’
‘’Oh, uh-’’ you panic for a moment. ‘’I was heading home too! Heh- mind if I walk with you?’’ you ask quickly. He smiles.
‘’Course ya can.’’ he turns around and gestures for you to follow. Perfect! So far so good. You stuff your hands into your pockets trying to be casual, and stroll along beside him. He looks down at you and smiles.
‘’How was the day?’’ you ask. ‘’Business good?’’
‘’Ah yeh,’’ he runs a hand through his wispy black hair. Everything about him is fascinating. His outfit, his makeup, his entire persona. ‘’I wuz doin’ candy ‘n tricks t’day. Thos’re some’ve my fav’rites.’’
‘’Oh yeah?’’ you tilt your head at him. ‘’You’re pretty good at your circus tricks. Where’d you learn em?’’
‘’Oh! Uh- jus’ picked em up hones’ly. Lotsa practice over th’ years.’’
You smile. ‘’Huh.’’ he always seems to...dodge questions. ‘’So- where’d you grow up?’’
‘’London.’’
Alright that’s the answer you expected. Next question. ‘’So is this performing thing your fulltime job?’’
‘’Yep!’’ he seems to become excited. ‘’Makin’ kiddos ‘appy is wha’ I wuz made fer!’’ he laughs, a raspy joyful noise that makes your heart flutter. "Me mum always said I wuz like a daffadown dilly, hah! So 'f course I became a clown, heheh."
You have no idea what that means but you laugh with him. "Your mom said you should be a clown?"
"Yup!"
"Yeah mine too, but only when she was mad at me." You grin at him. He breaks into a wide grin and then wheezes loudly in amusement. Perfect, you made him laugh! He snickers and looks at you again. God he's adorable when he laughs. Which is good, because he does it a lot. "So- how'd you come up with the costume?"
"Oh! Er- jussa lo'a mixin' an' matchin'. I already 'ad black 'air an' a lo'a striped fings so I er- jus tossed i' all together." He seems to become fidgety at the question. Odd. He coughs. "So wha' abou' you?"
"Me?"
"Yeh," he nods and smiles at you. "No' often some'ne who isn' a parent asks me abou' me act. I've seen ye a few times b'fore, so ye seem ta like me." He smiles at you. Shit. He has you completely figured out, doesn't he? Well...alright then. You take a deep breath before responding.
"I...find you interesting." You finally answer. He cocks a brow at you. "British guy who performs for kids and does tricks in a big heavy costume- who wouldn't be interested in learning more about him?"
He laughs gently. "Ye like me fer me accen'?"
"It's a bonus." You give him a sly smile. He laughs again and glances down. "So...what do you do on your off days, Laughing Jack?" He seems surprised at being called his stage name.
"Oh! Er- …'uman fings." He responds nervously. You snort, then crack up laughing. He laughs along with you, still sounding nervous. You had no idea he'd be so easy to fluster!
"Alright then...how about next time you're doing human things, I come along with you?"
"Eh?" He seems surprised and confused.
"Y'know- we could...get coffee or something…?"
He blinks, then his eyes widen. His mouth opens as he suddenly realises that he's being flirted with. "Oh- oh! Er- uh-" he blushes a light pink beneath his makeup. "Ye'd wanna...g-go ou' wiv me…?" He sounds like he can't quite believe what you just asked him. You nod. His blush deepens, and his shoulders arch up, burying his face in feathers. You laugh at his embarrassment. "A-ah...I see." He gulps and peaks out at you from beneath feathers. God he's adorable.
"Doesn't have to be coffee, if you're not into that."
"Nah, nah! I like coffee." He coughs, clearing his throat. He suddenly stops walking and looks at you. "Can I er-" he seems completely out of his depth here. You absently wonder if he's ever been flirted with before. "Can I getcher number?"
Score! This is exactly what you'd been hoping for! You reach into your pocket and pull out a small slip of paper you prepared earlier. You wrote your phone number on it earlier in hopes that he'd ask for it.
"Here you go." You say with a smile. He quickly steps forward and takes it, looking down at the small scrap of paper like it's the most important thing in the world. He slips it into the pocket of his shorts and nods at you, still looking surprised and worried. He forces a smile.
"Righ' then." He finally says. "I'll er- I'll text ya la'er an' we can arrange ta ge' sum coffee." His smile is flustered and his eyes are shining with excitement. You nod.
"Sounds good." You step back away from him and give him a small wave. "I'll see you soon, Jack."
"S-See ya!" He calls after you. You walk a little bit away until you're out of sight, then double back from behind the cover of trees. Just as you'd hoped, he's still right where you left him, staring in the direction you just went. Even from your hiding spot you can see his blushing face and wide excited smile. He suddenly jumps on the spot and looks around excitedly. He buries his face in his hands, crouching down slightly. You frown. Is he- shaking?
Jack suddenly explodes back up into the air, his arms stretching out more than they realistically should. He lets out the loudest cry of excitement you've ever heard and bounces on the spot, giggling to himself like a schoolgirl. You grin in amusement and watch him cartwheel over toward the forest, still making loud noises of excitement and joy. He spins and flips, then disappears into the trees. You snort.
He's...so weird. And somehow it just makes him more loveable.
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Text
For You.
Mi Amor Me Ha Dejado, Y Me Hace Llorar
It was the dead of night. You were exhausted, but you had waited until even Vah Medoh was just a tad slower in its circles above Rito Village. You strapped a bag to your chest and flapped your wings quietly, just enough to stir the stale air around you.
You missed when you were able to fly above Rito Village— when the air surrounding Lake Tottori was full of life, full of wind. But with Vah Medoh’s reawakening, the air had fallen quiet— no, not quiet. It had grown dangerous. Everyone who flew just a smidgen above Rito Spire was shot down, their feathers charred and blackened by Vah Medoh’s cannons… you shuddered to think what Harth’s wings looked like after trying to fight the Beast.
You flapped your wings again, though rather absently, as you pondered what you would do once you were out of Rito Village. I could become a wandering traveler, like that one guy… Kaz, I think his name was? He makes a nice living off of music. Or perhaps I could set up shop in Gerudo Town, if that even exists… I hardly hear of it, but I know that there must be something in the desert. But deep down, you knew that neither of those options were good enough for you. You knew what you wanted to do.
You recalled your younger years, when you were drawn to water like the ducks that rode its surface. You remembered how your father would laugh every time you dove beak-first into Lake Tottori’s chilly waters— you were always “his little penguin.”
I’m not so little now.
With one great heave of your wings, you were just able to lift your talons off the ground.
“Albatross?”
Damn it.
You paused, dropping dully to the landing again, and turned. As soon as you saw who was confronting you, you gave an awkward smile, trying to smooth over the situation. “Yes?”
The other Rito girl stepped closer to you, her sleek lavender feathers illuminated by the pale moonlight. “Where are you going? And so late, too?”
“I, um…” You spread your wings open to her, dropping your shoulders. “Look, I know this looks bad, but—”
“Oh, Hylia!” Saki’s wings flew to her face, a sudden look of understanding and shock washing over her. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving Rito Village!”
“Er… unfortunately, you’ve got it.” You chuckled, the nervous sound falling flat on the night air. You grew serious again, finally saying the words you had longed to say for weeks— or had it been months? You couldn’t remember. “I’m tired of life here, Saki. Can’t you see how it’s gotten boring? Vah Medoh has us held hostage here. We can’t even fly without worrying about ending up like Harth.”
“But someone will stop Vah Medoh soon!” Saki insisted. “Soon, a Champion will come and turn Vah Medoh to our side again. I just know it!”
“Well, that Champion hasn’t come in time to keep me. I’ve made up my mind.”
“But— won’t you miss Rito Village? Rito Village will miss you. You’ve always been a big help to us, Albatross. Won’t you miss Drake?” “Do not bring Drake into this,” you said coolly, as your younger brother’s face flashed briefly into your mind. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this, and not even he can tether me here. If Vah Medoh cannot, then neither can he.”
Saki sighed, her shoulders rising and falling gently. “It seems you’ve made up your mind…”
“I’ve debated this ever since Vah Medoh reawakened.” You turned your gaze to Lake Tottori again. “I have to go now. This never happened. You don’t know where I’ve gone.”
Saki hesitated, her expression uncertain. “Albatross…”
“Don’t make me say it again.” Saki, I know I can trust you. Please, just trust me, too.
Saki scrunched her eyes shut, then took one final look at you. “This never happened,” she recited. Each word sounded as though it were another chunk taken out of her beak. “I don’t know where you are or where you’re going.”
“Good. Goodbye, Saki.”
With that, you turned back to the still-rising sun. Once, twice, you flapped your wings, as hard as your shoulders would allow— whorls of wind stung your eyes and ruffled the crest of feathers on your head, but you were undeterred. You could feel yourself growing lighter with each stroke of your wings. Three times, now, four— finally! Your talons left the wooden planks you stood on, finally allowing you to be fully airborne.
You tilted your wings to dive towards Lake Tottori, soaring upwards at the very last moment. As you swung your head over your shoulder to take one last look at Rito Village, you saw Vah Medoh, its wings illuminated by golden light. It let out a great screech as the sun rose over Hyrule Field, as though it knew you were leaving.
Undeterred, you set your sights forward, past Tanagar Canyon, beyond Hyrule Ridge. You knew where you were going.
Goodbye, Saki.
Goodbye, Rito Village.
This is my world now.
— — ❀ — —
The first half of the day had been easy enough travel. There were the occasional close calls— you still cringed to think what could have happened if that Guardian’s blast came any closer to you— but other than that, the skies were carefree and forgiving. When you got tired, you would stop at the strange towers that had spawned throughout Hyrule, high enough to keep you safe from harm. The strange thing was that some were illuminated with blue light, and some with orange. You couldn’t figure out the pattern of why which one was what color.
But, as time went, it quickly turned from noon to mid-afternoon to early evening. Before you knew it, the crescent moon that had illuminated your departure now shone her light on your journey.  You gritted your jaw, knowing the danger that lurked in the woods below you. At such a low altitude, it wasn’t hard to hear the guttural sounds of Lizalfos camps celebrating their kills. If you succumbed to your weariness now, you surely wouldn’t again.
It seemed that each flap of your wings brought you closer to the ground, despite your best efforts to stay in flight. No—no, no, no! Vah Medoh has kept me prisoner to the ground for too long. I’m not leaving the sky so easily. A strange feeling welled up in your chest as you saw wildlife on the ground growing closer— something that made you want to crush Hyrule into a ball and cast it over your shoulder.
Is this what they call anger?
You sighed, though out of relief or frustration, you couldn’t tell. You thought you saw firelight ahead, but you didn’t think you’d be able to fly for another flap of your wings. “How disappointing,” you muttered to yourself as your talons touched the dirt path you had been following. I hope that that’s not a monster camp up ahead.
Sure enough, the firelight was too consistent and bright to be a measly Bokoblin camp. A strange patchwork sculpture of a horse’s head peered across the field it inhabited; the stables teemed with life, from both stablehands and the horses themselves. You peered around and saw all sorts of livestock, from herding dogs to things you thought were sheep. They looked like the mountain goats you often saw in the Hebra Mountains, but fluffier, and a lot whiter.
“Great snakes, gal, where you been!?” Came a shocked cry. “Ya look like you ain’t rested in days!”
You swung your head around, trying to find the source of the voice.
“Over here, gal!”
As he spoke again, you caught sight of the man at the counter of the stables. He wore strange garb, and he looked nothing like anyone you had ever seen. He had smooth, dark flesh, not feathery and bright like the Rito you had always known.
“Don’t talk, eh? Where ya from, where ya goin’? Never seen a Rito like you before, except that one who comes through with the music every now and again. What’s yer name, gal?”
“I talk,” you replied simply. “Where is this and who are you?”
“Well, well!” The man crowed, a joyful laugh entering the air. “She speaks!” His joy was cut short by your quelling glare, at which he coughed awkwardly, trying to cover the sound of his laughter. “Well, to answer your questions, welcome to Wetland Stable, the greatest stable in all of Lanayru! I’m Lawdon, the owner of this here place. We host horses of all kinds here. You got one to register? Doesn’t seem you do, but I’ll ask anyway.”
“We Rito have no need for horses.” You were beginning to dislike this man— Lawdon, he had said his name was. He was too energetic and peppy for your liking.
“Well, you’re in luck! We also double as an inn!” Lawdon swept a hand behind him, gesturing to the inside of the stable. “You can pay 20 rupees to sleep here. Or,” he added, lowering his voice, “the soft beds are twice as expensive, but they’re twice as good.”
“What’s a rupee?”
Lawdon froze at your question, a strangled sound coming from his throat. “Wh— what? Everyone knows what rupees are…”
“I’m joking,” you said flatly, struggling to maintain a neutral expression at the look on his face.
“Er, um— right! Yes, I thought so… So, will you be staying here for the night?”
“I suppose I am. Where are your soft beds?” You dug into the bag you’d brought with you, searching for a small satchel that contained all the rupees you had. Clink-clink— two red rupees glinted in the firelight around you, each one worth a night’s stay at this stable.
“They’re right this way! If you’ll just follow me—”
“Not yet. I have questions.”
“5 rupees a pop,” Lawdon said, sticking his open palm out to you.
“That’s a ridiculous rate for questions. They’re worth two each, at most.”
“I was joking,” Lawdon mumbled, quiet for the first time since you’d met him.
“So was I.” You paused. “Lanayru, huh? Zora's Domain is east of here, is it not?”
“Yes, it is! But you don’t want to go there. I hear they have a horrible problem with their own Divine Beast.”
“They have a Divine Beast bothering them, too?” If I could figure out their Divine Beast, then perhaps I could figure out Vah Medoh… no, don’t think that. I’ve left Vah Medoh and Rito Village behind. “What kind of ‘problem’ are they having?”
“They say their Divine Beast has flooded their entire domain,” Lawdon replied, as though this were common knowledge. “You're a Rito, ain’t ya? Ya got your own Beast to deal with? I hear tell of a giant bird that’ll kill ya if ya get close.”
“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” you said, trying to bury the image of Harth that you saw every time you thought of Vah Medoh. “I’ll take one of your soft beds.” As you abruptly changed the topic, you handed off the red rupees to Lawdon.
“All righty, one soft bed, coming right up! Right this way.” Lawdon stepped away from the counter, beckoning for you to enter the stables.
Shortly after, you were left alone again, and you had an impossibly soft bed to lay on. For the first time in ages, you felt safe. There’s people around to alert me if Vah Medoh comes to hunt me down— people who seem competent and not in denial about the state of things, like Saki. And I’m on my way to Zora's Domain. I’ve made it almost all the way there in just one day.
This journey is off to a good start.
— — ❀ — —
You woke the next morning with a start from a strange dream. Though, the more you tried to recall it, the further it faded from you…
You groaned and set your talons on the wooden floor, rolling your shoulders as you sat up. Skies above, I am so sore… I can’t think about that today, though. I’m almost to Zora's Domain.
“Hope you slept good!” Came a familiar voice. Lawdon poked his head around the counter, looking you over as you woke. “How you feelin’ today?”
“Not bad.” You stood and grabbed your bag, fastening it across your chest once again. “Goodbye.”
“What? Yer leaving, just like that?” Lawdon’s expression was that of amused confusion, as though he couldn’t believe that you were about to leave. “Not even breakfast to start ya on yer travels?”
“I’m not hungry.” As though on cue, your stomach growled loudly, completely contradicting your words.
“Ah, there’s the tell of a liar, gal!” Lawdon laughed, as though this were the funniest thing in the world.
You gazed at him again, trying to keep from snapping at him. “Food will weigh me down on my flight to Zora's Domain.”
“Oh, right! I keep forgetting Rito can fly. Well, if you want something to eat, I think there’s someone who can sell you food. His name’s Beet or Beetle or something like that.”
“I’ll take my chances on an empty stomach,” you replied curtly. You walked around the side of the stable and hoisted yourself onto the thatch roof, climbing the patchwork horse head that topped the building.
You flapped your wings again, though now, it came with a twinge of pain. Soreness from yesterday’s flight, you remembered, but that isn’t a concern. I’ll rest more thoroughly once I get to Zora's Domain. Once, twice, you flapped your wings again, stirring a breeze that traveled down the side of the stable. With one final heave of your wings, you lifted off of the horse’s head and leapt into the sky, quickly catching a strong breeze blowing east. Perfect, you thought, a small smirk crossing your face. Now I don’t even have to work to get there.
Zora’s Domain, here I come.
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aye-write · 3 years
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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.
However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.
Other Links: Read it on Ao3!
Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.
If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!
Author’s Note: If you’re interested in more information, exclusive updates, character art, and teasers for this fic, please consider following its sister tumblr @kildo-pokedex! 
This was another chonker chapter at 4.5k that I didn’t anticipate being this long at all! The joys of plantsing, eh? I had hoped to reveal the starters this chapter, but that’s being bumped to next update. In the meantime, please enjoy the reveal of Brootser, and the partial reveals of Weldeon, Ampster and Coastrot!
*****
Chapter Three
Despite everything, night rolled over the Whispering Pine Croft.
After hours battling insomnia, Isla stole downstairs not long after the clock in the hallway chimed midnight. Goosepimples erupted on her skin, the air chilling her to the core. Clicking on the floor lamp, she cast her gaze around the living room. A rickety bookshelf took up most of one wall, covered in dust and trinkets. It didn’t take her long to strike gold.  
The Etymological Dictionary of Old Kildonian, 1981 Edition.
Sitting at the old coffee table, she spread out her books and copies of the Old Kildonian script until there wasn’t an inch of space left. Then she opened the dictionary and started to read. She read, moving between dictionary and text, until her eyes strained in the dim light of the lamp, and the words on the page turned into incomprehensible squiggles. Just keep going, she told herself, as she marked off another decoded word. Just keep going. Just keep going. Just keep—
“Isla?”
Isla slammed the book shut. The noise seemed to echo forever in the quiet of the living room. The intruder snapped on the main light and Isla blinked foolishly as everything illuminated around her. It was Blair at the door, swaddled in an enormous red dressing gown and a pinched look on his face.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked, pulling his dressing gown tighter. “You’ll catch your death of cold.”
“I’m… I’m not doing anything,” Isla said, trying to collect the papers together, position her body over them, anything to hide them from sight.  
“Really? You look like a student trying to panic revise a whole subject the night before an exam,” he chuckled, plopping himself in the seat opposite. “Come on. What’s up?”
Isla sighed. What was the point in lying? “I’m just trying to make some sense of these texts.”
Blair glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “At half two in the morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep. This presentation is doing my head in.” When Blair frowned, she added, “My supervisor asked me to update them with all the “progress” I’ve mad so far. Of course, I haven’t made any yet.”
“So, you’re trying to decode all these old books with…. an out-of-date Kildonian dictionary?”
“I found it in the bookcase. I thought it might help.”
“I’m pretty sure that book is older than me. Please don’t tell me you’re taking it word-by-word.”
“More or less.”
“You’ll be there months trying to sort all that lot.”
“I don’t have any other choice,” Isla’s voice cracked. “Everyone is hounding me. I can’t let this come undone. They’ll pull approval of my project and fail me if I don’t keep jumping through all their hoops.”
“Why is the legend of the Chessmen so important to you?”
Isla hesitated. It was an innocent enough question, but the thought of answering it felt like ripping her chest open and exposing the beating heart underneath. “Well...” she started, cringing at how stupid it all sounded in her head. “When I was little, I was kinda lonely. I didn’t have siblings. Or friends, really,”
Blair made a sympathetic noise.
“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t that bothered by it,” Isla lied. “But because I didn’t have many friends, I naturally leant towards books instead. And I loved fiction, like adventure stories and that, but I felt so much more connected to things that were actually real.”
Blair nodded. “Understandable.”
“Anyway, one Christmas, I got this book. I think it was called Myths and Legends of the Pokemon World and it had all the origin stories of all the legendary Pokemon from like… every region in the world. God, I ate up every single story - how Arceus created the world, the theory that all Pokemon came from Mew in some way, how Groudon and Kyogre created the land and sea. I was absolutely hooked. Then, right at the end, there were a couple of small articles devoted to a place called Kildo.”
“Typical,” Blair muttered. “Always playing second fiddle to the big guns.”
“The book explained a little bit about the legend of the Chessmen. I was just… amazed at how these Pokemon brought humans these gifts of technology and arts and whatnot and how advanced the region was for its time. And then when I read what happened next, well… I just wanted to know why. Why did the Chessmen take away what they gave the humans?  What happened to them after they became dormant? I was obsessed. When I was younger, I had this stupid dream that I would like… Oh, it sounds so cheesy now, but… like solve the mystery of what happened all those years ago.”
“It’s not cheesy, Isla. Dreams are never cheesy.”
Isla bit the inside of her cheek. “I know that. It’s just… well, this legend has been everything to me for years. I’m not bigheaded enough now to think someone like me could ever solve it. But I’d love to find something. Even if it’s just standing in the same place these Pokemon stood once, all those years ago. But now it feels like it’s slipping away from me. I won’t be able to do anything unless I get these texts translated.”
“They’re well-known texts, right? Haven’t they already been translated?”
“The only translations that exist are locked behind online paywalls,” Isla sighed. “Not exactly within my budget. The originals were family owned. I suppose you can’t blame them for wanting them kept safe.”
“Could the university not pay for you to access them?”
“Not my department. They already think the project isn’t worth the time. They’re usually into social changes, modern day life, that sort of thing. Mythology doesn’t get a look in. Even though I changed my project a bit – focusing more on how the mythology influences modern life, with the Chessmen more of like a case study – the department still don’t want much to do with it.”
“Well, that’s their loss. Your project sounds fascinating just from what I’ve seen of it.”
“This little bit you’ve seen might end up being all it ever amounts to. With Nana Morag in the hospital, my options for translations are limited, and these old texts are all I have to help me piece together where the Chessmen might be.”
Silence unfurled around them. Isla stared down at her lap, her legs shaking and her mouth dry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever talked so much about herself and she found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to look Blair in the eye.
“I think I might know someone.”
Isla pricked her head up. “Really?” she said, hope throbbing in her chest.
“I have a friend who lives in Inverbrook. It’s not a huge city, but they do have a subsect of Tideburgh University there. He’s doing a Masters in Language and mentioned being involved with an elective on Old Kildonian. I can contact him for you. He might be able to help.”
Something surged through Isla like she’d just taken a shot of adrenaline. “Oh, Blair, thank you! That’s amazing!”
“No guarantees, of course!” he said, spreading his hands hastily. “He might not know enough of it to be a proper help. But he may be able to put you in touch with some other folks who can help, if that makes sense.”
“It does. A lot of sense. Thank you again.” Isla paused. “Where is Inverbrook?”
“Pretty much directly south of here. About forty odd miles or so. Following routes 29 through 26 pretty much leads you right there. Public transport is crap, though, so you’re better walking most of it. Shouldn’t take much more than a couple of days if you’re…”
He paused. Isla knew what he wanted to say. If you’re fit. Women like her weren’t supposed to be fit. And even though the thought of days of walking filled her with equal parts apprehension and dread, she forced a look of determination onto her face.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I can handle it.”
**
Isla shared the news that she would be leaving in the morning as they sat down at the kitchen table. Kenneth and Skye stayed quiet, barely reacting to the news, but Rhona’s face crumpled.
“Oh, chick, are you sure?”
“I think it’s probably for the best,” Isla said. “I don’t want to be a burden, especially with you guys having your hands full with the croft and Nana Morag being ill. Having a guest is too much on top of everything. I really do appreciate everything you’ve all done, but I think it’s best that I head towards Inverbrook and start my research properly.”
A strange expression passed over Rhona’s face, one that Isla couldn’t make sense of. For several terrifying moments, she thought she’d offended her.
“You wouldn’t be a burden on us, Isla,” Rhona eventually said, her eyes brimming. “We’d happily have you here for as long as you want. It’s been lovely having you.”
Isla felt something in her heart buckle.
“We do understand that your studies have to come first. But… you said you wanted to go to Inverbrook?”
“Yes. Blair is going to put me in touch with a friend of his there that might be able to help me with some translations.”
“It might not be as easy as you think, chick. I’ve just been watching the local news. There was flooding down south. The river that goes through Route 27, which connects Port Glen to Inverbrook, burst its banks. The whole route is submerged. No-one can go through. It’s completely impassable.”
**
You wouldn’t have said the entire of Port Glen had only just recently been battered by a storm, Isla thought, as she set off down towards the harbour after a filling breakfast. The morning sky pinkened gently, like a mother’s embrace, and golden threads of sun drifted through soft, watercolour clouds. A cool wind kept the worst of the heat at bay as she walked. All in all, it was a fairly pleasant experience. Well, as pleasant an experience as walking would ever be.
It was Rhona that had suggested trying the ferry. She couldn’t be sure what passenger routes they ran from Port Glen, or if they only did international and goods shipments, but it was a better option than waiting the potential weeks for the Inverbrook route to be cleared or taking the (extremely) long way around the whole region.
Breathing heavily and sweating despite the brisk ocean breeze, Isla stopped to catch her breath as she arrived at the harbour. She cast her gaze around hopefully. It was quiet. Too quiet. Not a good sign in the least.  Aside from the occasional sailor pacing the docks, and the sharp, cutting cry of seabirds, the place was still and silent.
The thought of asking someone to help sent panic crashing through her like waves in a storm, but there was no other choice. The best option rested with a nearby sailor, busily looping ropes and picking apart complicated knots. A Pokemon stood at his side. Squat, muscular, with short brown fur, flecked with white, and cut into a stout triangle pattern, it was another one that Isla didn’t recognise. Every now and again, the sailor tossed it a particularly difficult-looking knot of rope, which the Pokemon expertly shredded with sharp, curved claws.
“Brootser, the Pelting Pokemon. The evolved form of Brogue. With incredibly sharp claws and powerful jaws, Brootser are highly aggressive and territorial. Even against much stronger foes, it won’t back down easily,” her Pokedex chirruped.
Isla’s hand tightened around Soba’s Pokeball as she read more details. A Fighting type. A second evolution. Being a Furret, Soba wouldn’t stand much chance in a fair fight, much less an unfair one. While she did generally feel more comfortable approaching a fellow Pokemon owner, she probably could have stood to pick one with a less terrifying partner.
All the same, she approached the sailor, keeping herself primed like a coiled spring. “Excuse me? I was wondering if you could help me with something?”
The sailor had a strong, lined face, but he didn’t seem anywhere near as intimidating when he relaxed into a smile. “Sure,” he boomed. “What can I do for you?”
“Are there going to be any sailings from this port in the next few days? Anywhere that lands near Inverbrook?”
The Brootser, distracted from its work with the knots, pressed its wet nose against Isla’s hand. Isla let out an involuntary squeak.
“Brootser, stop that!” the sailor said firmly. “Sorry, miss. He’s obsessed with leather. Have you got leather in your handbag or anything? Your shoes? I swear, he can sniff it out within a mile. I have to keep him distracted at work otherwise he’d never leave people alone. Here, Brootser, go and do this for me.”
The sailor tossed a section of rope a few feet down the docks. The Brootser growled, a deep throaty rumble, before dropping to all fours and pursuing. Within moments, the rope was ripped to little more than fibres.
Isla searched for something to say. She eventually settled on, “He’s cute.”
“He’s a menace is what he is,” the sailor said, wiping his brow. “Anyway, you were asking about the ferries? Unfortunately, the passenger ferry was badly damaged in that storm two nights ago and won’t be running any routes for a while.”
“How long is a while?” Isla asked nervously.
“We’re waiting for some metal workers to come down from Hydrogate. They’re delayed because their Weldeon team were exhausted after a big job in the ironworks. Currently we’re looking at about a week.”
“A week?”
“I’m afraid so. If you go to reception and leave your details, they’ll be able to contact you as soon as we know when the sailings will be going ahead.”
“Aren’t there any other options?”
The sailor considered. “Not here. But if you’re set on sailing and you could get to Dewbrae Town, I think they’re still running sailings.”
“Where’s Dewbrae Town? Is it close?”
“It’s up past Aberdrip City, which is an hour’s drive north of here. Then you have to pass through Aberdrip Forest and that brings you out just at Dewbrae. Maybe a couple of days walking if you keep a steady pace,” he paused, and Isla felt his eyes rake her body. “Maybe a couple more. But, if you’re in a hurry, it’s better than waiting around here. Everything’s very up in the air at the moment.”
Isla thanked the sailor, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that came over her. Why was this so difficult? She’d encountered disaster at every turn so far and, in her darkest moments, she couldn’t deny wondering if it was even worth it to keep going. Nana Morag ill, no passage to Inverbrook through Route 27, no ferry from the Port Glen docks, now she had to go all the way to Dewbrae – wherever that was – on nothing more than a possibility?
But what could she do? What other options did she have?
Rhona would know what to do, Isla decided. She had a way of sorting things out, an uncanny level-headedness her own mother didn’t have. That’s what she’d do. She’d head back to the croft and take stock of the situation. She started walking, thoughts whirling through her head like the flapping of birds’ wings. Maybe there was another way to Inverbrook. They knew the region better than she ever would. Maybe they could—
“WIIIIING!”
Isla gasped and swore as her foot trod on something soft. With a gust of cold air, the offending thing burst upwards and pain erupted at the top of her head. Sharp, pointed talons dug into her scalp and she yelped in pain.
“Gull! Gull!” her assailant screeched; each squawk accompanied by a swift peck to the head.
Isla’s hands closed around her attacker’s soft wriggling body. With all her might, she tore it from her head and tossed it as far as she could manage. But the Pokemon swooped back into the air, seemingly unharmed, fixing Isla with a glare that sent a tremble down her spine.
“Gull! Wingull!” it shrieked.
Recognition dropped into Isla’s belly like a stone. It was a Kildonian Wingull. The same Kildonian Wingull that had attacked Rhona the day Isla got off the ferry. At least, it certainly looked like the same one – she could hardly call herself an expert on them – but it was roughly the same size and had the same high-pitched squawk. And didn’t the Pokedex say that Kildonian Wingull only attacked people who had food? Isla didn’t have a single crumb on her. So what other motive could it possibly have for attacking her?
Isla reached for the Pokeball at her waist, panicked fingers scrabbling for the catch. But the Wingull screeched again, diving into a tackle.  The impact came low in her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs and leaving her doubled over. The second blow sent her off-balance and stumbling, eventually crashing to the ground where the pain came in sharp spikes. With a fury of feathers, the Pokemon ripped Isla’s bag away from her.
“Hey!” She wheezed. “There’s nothing in there for you!”
Her protests were rewarded with a face full of frigid water.
By the time Isla had sluiced the water from her face, the Wingull had unhooked the bag’s clasp and was digging around in her things. Hairbrush and deodorant were both ignored, the coin purse in the shape of a Quagsire got an inquisitive gnaw but ultimately left in favour of a pen, which lasted a whole thirty seconds until it splintered and was promptly spat back out.
Every inhale felt like she was being stabbed underneath the ribs, but she still forced herself to move. “Leave my things alone! There’s no food in there!”
Wingull had wriggled itself right into the bottom of the bag and had pulled out an old emergency kit that Isla had nearly forgotten about. Most of the items had already been used or dumped over the years she’d had it, leaving only a couple of travel sized Potions, a Repel Kit, and a Poke Doll, wrapped up in a worn-out bag. The Wingull squawked indignantly and decapitated the doll in one fell swoop. Then it turned back on the travel bag, scraping around and tearing at it with its beak.  
Something dropped out. Isla’s heart plummeted to somewhere near her feet.
It was a Pokeball. An old Pokeball scratched and grimy with age. A Pokeball that Isla had all but forgotten about ever since she made the decision to train just Soba all those years ago. A Pokeball that was now right in the Kildonian Wingull’s line of sight.
She saw it happening before it actually did. The hungry Wingull viewed the Pokeball as nothing more than a shiny, tasty snack. It darted forward, opened its beak wide, and engulfed the old capsule. Isla prayed that the ten year old ball would turn out to be too old to work anymore, and the worst thing to happen would be the Wingull hacking it back up again. But the Pokeball made a shrill shiiing noise as it made contact with Wingull’s beak, and the Pokemon disappeared in a flash of blue light.
The Pokeball shook. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it was still.
And Isla had caught a Kildonian Wingull.
**
Isla told the story of her accidental Wingull capture to an appreciative audience when she got back from the docks. And then again over sandwiches at lunchtime. While Soba curled up in the corner next to the radiator, oblivious to this new teammate, Isla released Wingull for the nerve-wracking job of introductions and feeding time. Rhona’s eyebrows rose so high that they practically disappeared into her hairline, but she didn’t protest.
“I can’t believe it’s the same one,” Rhona said, eyeing her half-eaten sandwich she was planning on saving for later. “Most try their luck once and then move on.”
“I think it’s young,” Blair said, lifting its wing to get a better look. “Perhaps separated from its mum too early. Maybe it doesn’t know any better.”
“I didn’t mean to catch it,” Isla sighed. “I’d forgotten all about that old Pokeball. We were always told to carry an extra one or two, even if we never intended to catch Pokemon, like for emergencies and that.”
“It must have been starving if it thought a Pokeball was food. Or maybe just exceptionally stupid.”
“Jury’s out on that one,” Isla said, as the Wingull pecked at a Tauros shaped pepper shaker.
“Kildonian Wingull are incredibly food oriented,” Blair lifted his plate to avoid the Pokemon’s frantically flapping wings. “Most of the bird Pokemon around here are.”
“Why is that?”
“Competition. Because there’s so many, they all compete for the same natural resources. That’s part of why people think Wingull adapted for Kildo the way they did. They couldn’t compete for most of the natural food, so they evolved to take food from humans instead. Problem is, they end up thinking all food is fair game. Hey, watch it! No! That’s mine!”
Isla suppressed a chuckle as Wingull lunged for the crusts on Blair’s sandwiches. In the kerfuffle of squawking and feathers, Isla looked over at Skye, who hadn’t said a word through the entire of lunch. Her face was screwed up.
“Skye? Are you alright?” Isla asked.
Skye made an odd strangling noise, pushed herself back from the chair, and ran for the stairs, each one thudding under her feet. A moment later, a door slammed.
“Did I say something wrong?” Isla said, horrified.
“No, not at all,” Rhona said, rescuing a glass of juice that had been upended when Skye left the table. “She’s just a bit upset. We were supposed to be going up to meet Professor Spruce tomorrow to get her trainer’s license and first Pokemon. But because Nana Morag is in hospital, I have to be here in case something comes up on short notice, and I just can’t spare the time to take Skye up to Aberdrip City. She’ll only be delayed for a few days, but the poor lass was so looking forward to it. Especially when she’s had to wait so much longer than everyone else.”
“Why’s that?”
It was only after she asked the question that she considered it might have been rude. Or none of her business. Too late to save herself now, though. Rhona’s face tightened, her mouth puckering like she was sucking on a sour lemon.
“Sorry,” Isla looked down at the table. “I shouldn’t be nosy.”
The kitchen fell quiet. Rhona let out a deep, juddering exhale and sat back down, folding her hands into her lap, the kitchen suddenly feeling about ten degrees colder. Isla took a sip of water, her mouth and throat turning to chalk.
“Skye had childhood cancer.” The words didn’t even get a chance to settle before they were tumbling out again, like Rhona was trying to get them all out at once. Like they couldn’t hurt her as much that way. “She spent most of her childhood in hospital with leukaemia.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Once again Isla found herself cursing both her mother and herself for not bothering to find any of this information out beforehand.
Rhona shook her head. “It’s alright, chick. We don’t talk about it much. Besides, she’s been in remission for a year now. But she’s missed out on so much school and she gets tired so easily.”
There was nothing Isla could say that would be enough. She had to settle for, “I’m sorry to hear that…” and hope Rhona could somehow understand just how much she meant it.
“There was a time when she was being treated that she became very low and very depressed. It was frightening. I’ve never been so worried in all my life. We were scared she was just… giving up. Then, one day, they had some Pokemon trainers visit the hospital. A lot of children there would never be able to go out training. Some wouldn’t even… you know, live to see their next birthday.”
Rhona’s voice wavered. Blair put his hand over hers and squeezed. “Easy, Mum. Don’t go upsetting yourself now.”
“One of the trainers was assigned to Skye,” Rhona continued. “But she was so quiet and so withdrawn that we didn’t think the trainer could get through to her. The trainer had this Pokemon with her – Ampster, I think it was – and it was like a light turned on behind Skye’s eyes when she saw it. I saw glimpses of my daughter again. This trainer stayed with her for hours. Just talking. She’s wanted to be a Pokemon trainer ever since. And I hate that so many things keep getting in her way.”
Rhona sunk her head into her hands. Her shoulders quivered.
Isla felt terrible. No wonder Skye had been quiet during the whole of lunch. How stupid had she been? Skye was being kept from her dream of being a Pokemon trainer and she’d waltzed into their kitchen showing off a Pokemon she hadn’t even meant to catch? It made Isla’s toes curl just thinking about it.
“Could Skye not make the journey on her own?” she asked.
“No,” Rhona lifted her head again, looking pale even at the thought. “She’s not fit enough. We were going to rent a car and drive her, but…”
“Could I take her?”
The offer slipped past Isla’s lips before she knew what she was doing. Rhona looked at her in mild shock, her mouth slowly gaping open.
“I mean, I’ll be passing through Aberdrip anyway!” Isla continued. “One of the sailors said I could get the ferry from Dewbrae Town which is just past Aberdrip, right?. I could take her along with me.”
“Gosh, that’s very kind of you, chick. And I’m sure Skye would love it,” Rhona said, nervously glancing at the stairs. “But I’m not comfortable with her making the trip back on her own. Or even just the amount of walking she’d have to do.”
“I could go with them,” Blair said.
Rhona looked at her son like she’d only just remembered he existed. “What’s that, honey?”
“I could go with them,” he repeated. “We could put Skye on Coastrot. That’s my partner Pokemon,” he added for Isla’s benefit. “He’s strong enough to carry her and we can keep her nicely bundled up. Then once Isla heads off to Dewbrae, I can take Skye back.”
“I don’t know,” Rhona said. “We need you here too.”
“Mum, it’s a day. Maybe two, tops, if we let Skye rest overnight. You and Dad can manage that long, right? You could ask a couple of the lads from the market to pitch in if you really need to. I’m sure they’d work for a hot pie and some cash in hand. And you don’t need to worry about us. We won’t do anything silly. We’ll just get Skye her Pokemon, check in for the night, see Isla off to Dewbrae the next morning and head back ourselves. Easy-peasy!”
Rhona still didn’t look convinced. “It’s such a long way, though. She’s not been away overnight in such a long time.”
“It’s a few hours of travelling, Mum. You said it yourself, Skye’s already missed out on so much. It might not feel like much for us, but for Skye, it’s her whole life. One delay after the other. And with everything the way it is right now, what if there’s just more delays? More reasons not to take her? You have to let her.”
Rhona went very quiet, her face pale.
“I’ll look after her, Mum,” Blair said. “She needs this.”
“I know you will. And I know she does,” Rhona heaved a sigh. “She’s not my little baby anymore. She’s growing up.”
“I’d like to go.”
Everyone jumped at the voice that came in from the doorway. Rhona wiped her eyes. “Oh, Skye, honey, sorry. I didn’t hear you come down. Are you okay?”
“I think I can do it,” Skye ignored her mother’s question. Her voice was louder this time, but still hesitant, like she was testing out its limits. “I want to go get my Pokemon and I’d like Blair and Coastrot to take me. And Isla,” she added, and Isla felt a smile curve onto her face. “If that’s okay with you?”
Silence widened like a chasm between mother and daughter and for one horrible moment, Isla half-expected Rhona to turn away, to start shouting, to deny her flat out. But then tears spilled out of Rhona’s eyes and her whole face softened.
“Yes, honey,” Rhona said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Yes, that’ll be okay with me.”
As they hugged, Isla felt a stray tear prick at the corner of her eye. The emotion surprised her. Yes, it was touching to see a mother and daughter hug and reconcile, but something told her it went deeper. As she looked out at the dying sky, strewn with deepening orange and slicks of black, something unsettled itself in her heart.
Tomorrow she would be leaving Port Glen. Tomorrow she would leave behind a family unit where she felt accepted. Tomorrow she would start her journey to Inverbrook.
She didn’t know which one felt scarier.
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Half a Pint of Sex
A little AU that takes place during S2 E1. What if Rae didn’t leave after she saw Finn in the shower?
Also posted on AO3.
Thank you as ever to Lil, my beta reader from another mother: you are exacting and wise and very exciting to work with. 
@madfatty @burnnmyhearttout @thatfunnygirllauren @hellothisismebye
Rae was in a tizzy as she walked back from the lingerie shop. It was all well and good to bare everything in front of Chloe and Izzy and the baps-expert bra lady, but…ugh…who was she kidding? Even that was horribly uncomfortable. How could she ever do this with Finn? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. “He likes me,” she reminded herself. “He’s already touched my lady bits and he wants to go camping and he knows we’re getting three tents. Relax, idiot! He likes you. He really likes you.” She repeated the affirmation, though suspected this could all change once Finn really saw all of her. But the pep talk and the teal underwear in her shopping bag gave her a surge of confidence or maybe it was just hope. Whatever propelled her, she found herself heading to Finn’s house. Maybe to show him. Maybe not. 
Meanwhile, Finn was in his attic, waist-high in boxes and sorting fairy lights from Christmases past. Most of his thoughts were preoccupied by the camping trip and how not to let on that he was preoccupied. Being attentive to Rae was work but the best kind. It felt good to be in this deep, to care this much. Anyway, their first time would not be in a tent, that was not how he’d pictured it, hence ten calls to arrange the surprise caravan and a whole morning in the attic. He was glad she’d been busy earlier because he was crap at making excuses. He was covered in dust from his efforts, but now he just wanted to see her. Fuck it, he was going to go over to hers even if he had to wait around until she got home. He headed to the shower to wash up.
Rae’s feet automatically slowed as she approached Finn’s house; much had changed since the first time she’d walked up to his door. When she was with Finn their chemistry was obvious and magnetic, but when they were apart the whole thing still seemed impossible. If she could get back in the same room with him, the rest should take care of itself. She needed to trust in the strange magic of them. She pushed herself forward with the memory of Finn’s reassuring smile, his promise of “to be continued.” Gary welcomed her inside amidst a haze of Dire Straits. Rae prayed her own straits were not so dire.
Finn’s thoughts were racing in the shower. Was he putting too much pressure on her? He was pretty sure the whole thing had been Rae’s idea. It was a sleepover and she’d asked for three tents. And she had let him touch her the other day in her room, but then Linda had barged in and it just didn’t feel right to continue. He’d run off to footy practice even though he’d planned to skip it. But now it was all he could think about, how ready she’d been for his fingers. The hot water across his shoulders was starting to remind him of that warmth and how it had spread to her wickedly soft inner thighs. He rubbed at his stiffening cock but glanced up to find the door open, and his dad didn’t need to see that. He turned the water a little colder–he would wait until he was in his room to finish that thought.
Rae climbed the stairs with a distracted smirk on her face and heard the water running as she reached the top. Was Finn in the shower? Was he showering with the door open? Who showered with the door open? “Oh,” she thought, as she saw his wet and flawless frame turning away, “people with perfect bodies.” And there it was, the arse she coveted, bare as the day he was born, as peachy as she’d ever imagined.
Suddenly, she was struck with a huge choice: run out of this house straight to the airport and jump on a plane to the North Pole to live in a cave and raise polar bears and never again see a human arse that would remind her of what she couldn’t have OR literally put on her big girl pants and meet her own life head on. Seeing as she’d spent her last pound on the pants, air travel was out of the question. She walked halfway down the stairs and back up three times before finding herself in Finn’s room. The next set of events was a blur, as she ran to the window and yanked the curtain over to block out as much light as possible, raced into her new underwear while holding the door closed and finally dove under his duvet and slid herself all the way to the wall.
Lying in Finn’s bed, Rae was shocked by her own actions, completely out of breath and utterly grateful that Chloe had explained what she meant about preparing for “naked time” with Finn. That morning, Rae had shaved her legs, continuing above her knees which she hadn’t even realized was a thing, and she’d smoothed out her underarms and even tidied up her unruly thatch of pubic hair. As she awaited the inevitable, she tried to make herself as small as possible, but her flesh refused to cooperate and kept falling around her in the most hideous of ways. Every time she angled herself to smooth one area, another rolled up and out, and she was quickly getting itchy and hot in all the places where her skin was rubbing against itself, and this was all a very bad idea, and her head was pounding and she thought she might throw up. Her fevered train of thought came to an abrupt halt as the freshly-bathed scent of Finn Nelson burst across her senses and then he was there in the room, in his boxers and running a towel over his head. He didn’t see her at first, as he was taking in the closed window curtain with mild confusion.
“Don’t be scared it’s just me!” Rae blurted out as she pulled the duvet up to her nose. “Hiya.”
Tracking Rae’s voice, Finn found her wedged in the corner of his bed. Her position was almost comical as if she were trying to disappear into the wall, but this did not diminish the salient fact: Rae was in his bed. She was under his duvet. She was hiding something, possibly nakedness. His body was reacting faster than his mind and he quickly moved the towel down to hide his excitement. He was turned on; he was touched, and he was stunned by the boldness of her gesture. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could see that she was terrified.
“What are ya doing under there, girl?” He asked in a tone he hoped was both non-threatening and affectionate.
“Oh nothin’,” Rae responded. “Just thought I’d make sure you had sheets under here.”
“Oh, and do I?” Finn couldn’t help but flirt as he moved slowly towards the bed. He was still having trouble processing what was happening, but whatever it was, was very good.
“Yes, comfy sheets.”
“They’re comfy, eh?” Finn was fully loving the dynamic now. He felt a little bad for torturing her like this, but he knew this would all work out even if she didn’t seem to. “Can you feel them especially, ‘cause maybe you’re not wearin’ anything?”
“Oh, I’m wearin’ something…some…things…” Rae was biting her lip, rolling her eyes and blushing to her toes.
Finn was standing right up against the bed now. His curiosity was beyond piqued, but he knew Rae was regretting her actions and he needed to get her back on board. He was always most confident expressing himself from his arsenal of smiles, and he carefully chose one for her that conveyed sympathy, encouragement and understated joy. When he saw the muscles around her eyes relax, he spoke, “I’m really glad you’re here.” Then even more gently, he added, “Would it be okay if I joined you under there?”
Rae nodded, and Finn slipped cautiously onto the bed, keeping a respectful distance and his eyes on her face.
“So, what are these… things…you’re wearing?”
Rae huffed and rolled her eyes, “Chloe took us to a lingerie shop and I wound up buyin’ this stuff. But they’re totally impractical and I don’t think they look good on me. And I mean, I’m not even sure if you like my boobs, because they’re too large and they’re not made for lacy-”
“Rae…Rae!” Finn was struggling to get Rae’s attention and she finally stopped babbling long enough to look at him. “Do you not know how I feel about your boobs? Guess you hadn’t noticed me looking at them all the time when we first met? Archie and Chop had to tell me to stop!”
“Nah… I hadn’t…” Rae attempted a nanosecond of mental acrobatics, trying to immediately recall all the times this could have happened. It was new information and she couldn’t help but smile and then laugh, “Chop had to stop you?! But Chop looks at them all the time!”
“Yeah…” Finn winced “Now he says if I get to touch’em, then he should at least be able to look at’em.” He scrunched his face and waited for her to punch him.
“What?! Oh thanks for that! Really defending my honor, eh?” The banter was so normal, that for a minute, Rae forgot they were in a bed and half naked. “You know Chop needs to watch himself or Izzy’s going to get seriously insecure. I know she already feels—"
Suddenly Finn was kissing her–his version of oral sparring was not really fair, because he always won.
Finn was glad she was back to form, because he was addicted to transforming loud opinionated Rae into quiet, yielding Rae. Kissing her was like unlocking so much sweetness, and it was all for him.
When she stilled, he spoke quietly, “Anyway, I told Chop, that was bullshit and he had to stop.” Finn continued with a playful pout, “But can we not talk about Chop anymore? Besides…I haven’t really touched them… not really…”
Rae was pleasantly transfixed by the recent kiss and his current gaze. This back and forth between humor and seriousness, teasing and affection, of her knowing him and his knowing her was the alchemy she needed. She bit her bottom lip as she slowly lowered the duvet to her waist, revealing all the cream and teal she’d been hiding. Finn gasped and stared, and Rae felt like she was on fire. His hand instinctively reached out to touch her, but he stopped himself.
“Can I?” His breath hitched on the words and Rae felt a sense of control that she had never known. She could feel how truly sexy she was in that moment with her hair flowing around her face and her lips parted. She looked at him from beneath her lashes and knew how completely she had him. All of time seemed to slow down in that astonishing moment.
When Rae finally spoke, “Yeah,” was all she said. He reached towards her hesitantly and ran his finger along the top of her shallow bra cup, tracing the entire seam where it met the soft flesh of her right breast. Finn’s eyes were on hers, as he slid his finger below the edge, lowering it inch by inch until her whole breast spilled out. They held each other’s eyes with half shock and open mouths. Gradually his eyes lowered to take her in, the fullness, the large dark areola, the perfectly protruding nipple; the sight drew his tongue forward. Then, just as slowly, Finn freed her from the left cup and felt woozy with the vision that lay before him.  
Rae smiled as she watched Finn’s reaction and relaxed into this new sensation of feeling like the best thing he’d ever seen.
“They look so good, Rae…” Finn was nearly stuttering, “better than I imagined.”
Finn was consumed with looking, just feeling her with his eyes for a full minute before finally sweeping his fingers around the outside curves of her and his thumbs against her nipples. He kissed her then, pressing his whole body into her, knowing she could feel him hard against her leg.
It all turned hot and heavy quickly as they licked and sucked at each other’s lips and tongues. They were grinding against each other’s thighs and her hands were grasping at his hair and his hands were full of her breasts. Things were escalating and their hearts were racing, when Rae put her hand between them and pushed him back.
“Are you okay?” he panted, concern registering in his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she panted back. “So, so good… I just don’t think I’m… ready…”
“Oh, Rae,” Finn smiled. “We don’t have to…there’s so many other things we can do… I mean…if you want to…”
“Yeah…I want to…” Rae smiled, and Finn remembered she had her own arsenal, and this was the one–so wide and genuine and beautiful–that lit up his heart.
“Honestly,” he added, “I’m just chuffed to see you in your underwear.”
“You really like it?” She asked, pretending the question was not rhetorical.
“Yeah, I really like it,” he answered, as if she didn’t know what an understatement that was.
“Do you think your dad might…?
“Nah.. not if my door’s closed.”
“So he’s not makin’ hot pot or anything? Maybe needs some ingredients?”
“He won’t bother us,” Finn grinned as he spoke. “He knows you’re up here. And he totally loves you.”
Rae smiled to herself wondering how many Nelsons might love her. Finn shifted out of the bed to put on some music.
Rae teased him, “Oh, let me guess…”
“Oi!” Finn shot back, “I’ve been waiting for this. You can’t deny me it.” He pulled out his album of decidedly not crap reggae and lowered the needle. “Plus now my dad will really know to stay away.”
As she watched him return to bed, bopping his head suggestively to the music, Rae giggled and felt her whole body melt and tingle in anticipation. “So, where were we, girl?” Finn asked as he crawled in next to her. He looked into her eyes and ran his fingers through her hair, and Rae was very happy to remind him. 
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nxrdist · 4 years
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Note:Sorry this took me an age to fill especially considering it’s not terribly long >.< None the less I hope you enjoy it! As ever, my written Irish accent is likely horrible, but I hope you get the gist. Finan’s gift [xx]
A Humble Gift
Fandom: The Last Kingdom/The Saxon Stories
Pairing: Finan/Reader
Words: 1755
-----
Despite the cool chill in the air the sun beat down on Finan as he made his way through the streets of Lunden. He needed to reach the stables with haste. If he didn’t make it in time his party would grow irritated by his tardiness. The Lord Uhtred would not be bothered, but the few priests who rode with them to Gloucester might cause a stink over a delay. So, he quickened his step and made decent time arriving just as the stable hands finished their task of readying the horses. Uhtred lifted a questioning brow but made no comment on his moderately disordered appearance at having rushed. Shortly there after they all mounted up and made for the city gates. The journey to Gloucester wasn’t long and they would arrive in a few days just in time for the Lady Hollis’s birthday celebration.
Lady Hollis was Æthelred’s first cousin by marriage and the two had grown up together. So, the Lord of Mercia was throwing her a feast which Lord Uhtred had been invited to. Of course, the invitation had been sent out grudgingly on Æthelred’s part though that was of no consequence to Uhtred -their dislike was mutual. No doubt he would greet his cousin and proceed to ignore him for the rest of their visit.
It had puzzled Finan somewhat at first when Uhtred had announced their imminent departure but for the look his Lord gave him when making said announcement. Uhtred had noticed the letters Finan had been receiving in secret and guessed at their origin. Naturally knowing his Irishman as well as he did the Lord had guessed correctly. At their last visit to Gloucester the Lady Hollis had been there -not long after their return the letters had begun. Finan supposed it was not so difficult to put the two together. The kindness Uhtred was doing him was not lost on Finan.
Their journey was expedient and trouble-free. They arrived on time, the day before the feast, and were received by Æthelred before being dismissed to find their lodgings. Had they been in Winchester Uhtred might have complained at not being housed at the palace, but he made no comment on it as they settled in at the inn. Finan assumed it was all the better to him for not being obligated to spend extra time in Æthelred’s presence.
He slept little that night. Tossing and turning frequently in his sleep, Finan eyed the pouch he’d laid on the chair with his other belongings even in the dark. A feeling of apprehension came over him whenever he looked at it for its contents made him nervous for the next day to come. When he had purchased the token, he had been feeling much more confident. Now he worried over whether he ought to have gotten it at all. Lady Hollis was likely to receive many and much more impressive gifts on the morrow which would make his feeble attempt seem so little a thing. Once he would have been able to bestow such gifts upon her, but not since having been cast out of his own land. How much easier it would be to be with her if he were still a prince of the Uí Néill.
-----
Her eighteenth year and she was still not married. It was an uncommon thing, but for the love her father bore her. Having lost his wife many years past he had clung tight to his daughter being quite loathe to let her go. In her youth it had not bothered her quite so much as she escaped several displeasing proposals in those years. All of which had been blessedly turned away by her father.
However, things were different now. Æthelred had begun the previous year to put pressure upon her father, Lord Ælfstan, to see her wed lest she become a spinster. Of course, he was right. As such at the feast Hollis was showered with the attention of many Lords looking to win her favor. She was not averse to attention in fact at times she quite enjoyed it, though the one who’s attention she sought was no Lord.
Earlier in the evening she had seen him enter with Lord Uhtred’s party from Lunden and had been hard pressed to hide the smile which spread across her face. Her cousin had grumbled the previous evening at dinner over the arrival of Lord Uhtred, who he had clearly hoped would not accept the invitation, but she had not been there at their arrival. So, to finally see the face she searched for among the crowed, Hollis had been quite elated.
-----
When the feast finally ended the guests filtered into the next room where much drinking and dancing would take place. Finan’s hand fell to the pouch tied at his belt where he fiddled absently with the strings as he had numerous times throughout that day. He had hoped to catch her in the halls before the meal but had had no such luck. And so, he sat through the feast with the weight at his belt growing by the moment. A more pessimistic part of his subconscious thought he might never get a moment alone with her after all and thus all his worry would have been for nothing.
The dancing began and Finan stayed near the wall for a time drinking from his mug of ale chatting with Sihtric and Uhtred. Eventually Uhtred left them and he watched Hollis be twirled about the hall by this Lord and that. His mood grew more sour with each new partner until it was Lord Uhtred she was dancing with. Last Finan had seen Lord Uhtred had been speaking with the Lady Æthelfled. Sighing, Finan turned away to focus on what Sihtric was saying.
“I can never get used to these sorts of celebrations,” Sihtric commented.
“Different than chuggin’ ale and wrestlin’ in the dirt eh?” Finan retorted with as much humor as he could muster.
“At least it isn’t so uptight,” shot back the half-dane.
“And more fun too,” he agreed.
“Do you know why Uhtred even agreed to come at all?” Sihtric asked.
Of course, he knew. “To see the Lady Æthelfled I expect,” Finan lied.
Sihtric’s brow rose in question.
Finan shot him a condescending look.
“Truly?” Sihtric responded dubiously.
He would have replied except for the little cough that drew his attention away from his friend. There stood Hollis with a polite smile on her lovely face. When he said nothing, she tilted her head as if in question.
“My Lady,” Sihtric said with a slight bow of his head.
The half-Dane’s words jolted him from his shock and Finan murmured the same greeting.
“If you would excuse me? I’m quite parched. I was only trying to reach the ale,” she said.
“My apologies Lady,” Sihtric said.
Swiftly he moved to make room for her to pass; though, he did note to himself that she could have easily gone around them to reach the ale. When he went to exchange glances with Finan he noticed the Irishman looking the Lady with an intent gaze. Sihtric furrowed his brow.
“It is rather warm,” Finan commented.
“Yes, it is,” Hollis said, then hesitated. “I imagine a nice breeze would be quite pleasant.”
“I believe you might be right. Enjoy the celebrations Lady,” Finan said before also moving to let her pass.
Finally, Finan met Sihtric’s confused gaze with a shrug and a little smirk. Sihtric turned slightly to watch the Lady make her way to the ale and fill her cup. When he turned back to Finan the Irishman was gone.
-----
Out in the courtyard it was much less noisy than it had been indoors, and a subtle breeze blew through the enclosed area. He waited under the shadow one of the aspen trees which lined the two ends of the plaza. Thankfully, he did not have to be patient long for her to appear. A muffled sound of laughter followed by light steps alerted him to her approach across the yard, but only when he saw her bathed in moonlight did, he step out from under the branches. Hollis looked about for a moment before calling to him.
“Finan?” she whispered.
Clearly, she had not seen him nevertheless the moment his name passed her lips she spied him and hurried to close the distance. For his part Finan went to meet her, but by then she was only a hand full of steps away and to his surprise she stepped in swiftly and wrapped her arms around him. The embrace was brief but even so it calmed the nervous racing of his heart.
“Have you missed me?” she asked softly as she withdrew.
“Have ye’ not been readin’ my letters?” he quipped with a sly grin.
“I have,” Hollis replied with a shy smile. “Though, I would hear you say it.”
“I ‘ave missed ye’ as much as a man misses ‘is bed on a long journey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “If na’ more so.”
Her smile brightened with joy at hearing his words.
“And I you.”
With his free hand, Finan fumbled for the pouch at his belt. Hollis’s eyes went to the pouch before returning to his face with a questioning look. A ghost of his former apprehension passed through him as he removed it.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I saw it…in Lunden. I thought o’ ye.”
His expression turned a shade abashed as he released her hand to draw open the pouch. From within he drew out a brooch made from silver in a delicately crafted design. Steeling himself, Finan held it out for her to take. A hand flew to her mouth in surprise and she hesitated.
“You need not have troubled yourself,” she whispered.
“I wanted t’. Ye mentioned ye ‘ad lost yer favorite cloak pin…”
Her eyes watered slightly as she looked up at him.
“I had completely forgotten telling you. Finan-“Hollis cut herself off by embracing him tightly once more, though this time she didn’t draw away fully. “You are so thoughtful.”
He couldn’t help the pride that rose in his chest at her praise. Unthinkingly, Finan raised his hand to Hollis’s cheek brushing his thumb delicately over her cheek to wipe away the single tear that had fallen. An impish grin was spreading on his lips.
“Now, Lady there’s no need t’ be cryin’ over a trifle.”
“Tis’ not a trifle since it came from you,” Hollis said.
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keelywolfe · 4 years
Text
FIC: Bedside Stories ch.1 (baon)
Summary:  In the aftermath of Internal Disputes. Everything is going swell.
Tags: Spicyhoney,  Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Hospitals
Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.
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Read it on AO3
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One of the first things Stretch had done when Edge was able to remain more awake was to sign in to their Netflix account on the hospital room television. Or rather, Red’s Netflix account since they still hadn’t bothered to get their own. He suspected Red took some minor glee at allowing others to pirate his account and who was he to steal his brother’s joy. He’d keep his thefts to digital streaming services.
But the television was currently dark, hunkering in the corner and silenced from the bevy of cooking shows played non-stop since that morning, ones like Sugar Rush and Cake Wars. Edge finally snapped on the second episode of ‘Nailed It’ and turned it off to relish the silence. His pain was currently at a tolerable level without any medication and he preferred not to add to it with awful programs.
On the table beneath the tv was a lovely floral arrangement sent by Asgore, one that he’d quite likely made himself and Edge truly appreciated that Stretch only put it where Edge directed and made no comment about who it was from.
It wasn’t entirely a surprise; Stretch had been on his best behavior for the past couple days and if the shrill voices of the hosts from that awful show had grated on his nerves, a well-behaved Stretch was nearly worse. He loved his husband as he was, snark and puns and all. It was nearly better to have him briefly gone, with the hopes he’d be more himself when he returned.
Much as Edge appreciated the current silence, there wasn’t much else to do in the hospital room. There was a stack of books sitting on the side table that he didn’t want to read along with his cell phone which gave him an apologetic message stating that his account could not currently access the Embassy servers, along with a terrible stick figure drawing resembling Janice with a word balloon that said, ‘Get well soon!’.
On top of the books was a rubix cube that Jeff brought in for him, a thoughtful gift that Edge solved in less than a minute, to his laughing dismay.
He was actually starting to reluctantly consider playing Simcity on his phone when a hammering knock at the door almost sent him flying to his feet. Or foot, rather, since one of them was currently firmly encased in a plaster cast.
“Come in!” Edge called irritably. He really could do without anyone testing whether skeletons could have a heart attack for a while.
He wasn’t surprised when the door flew open to reveal Undyne, grinning unrepentantly. She all but slammed the door behind her and flopped down in the chair by the bed, propping her booted feet up on the bed rail.
“Heya, tough nerd, where is your pretty honey bunny?” She glanced around the room as if she expected to find Stretch stashed away in the closet or under the bed.
“Must you call him that?” Edge sighed. The soles of her boots were leaving smudges on his sheets and he reached down to give them a slap, knocking them to the floor. Undyne only laughed.
“Touchy.” She shifted to lean with her elbows on her knees, hands hanging between them. “I’m the one whose knocked up, shouldn’t I be having the mood swings?”
“Thinking of you with mood swings is terrifying. Congratulations, by the way.” Edge knew very little about pregnancy, but he couldn’t really see a change in Undyne. He thought she might be wearing a slightly looser shirt than normal, but nothing else seemed visible, not even the ‘glow’ often mentioned in books and movies.
“Eh, thanks,” she grinned. “But let’s back up a step. I figured that honey of a hubby of yours wouldn’t leave your side.”
“You would be correct, even if I want him to,” Edge said dryly. “Much as I adore him, he was starting to get, shall we say, antsy. I sent him home to check on his chickens and to bring me some clean clothes.” Today was the first day Edge was in a position to despise the hospital gowns and he was, with great distaste.
“Uh huh. When are they springing you?” The way Undyne’s gaze fell over him was familiar, assessing damage and calculating potential weakness. It was automatic and came from a place of concern, he knew, but it was difficult not to bristle.
“Hopefully tomorrow, for a week’s rest and then a walking cast.”
Her eye narrowed, flicking back to his leg. “Bad?
“Not as bad as it could have been. For one, it’s still attached.” Undyne barked a laugh and pounded on the arm of her chair, which was the hoped for reaction. He’d tried that particular gallows humor with Stretch earlier and he had not been amused in the slightest. “It was mostly healed before we even got to the hospital, but the bone needs support until the doctors deem otherwise. Now that we’ve discussed me, can we…?”
“Yeah, sure.” She leaned back in her chair and spread her hands over her belly, pulling her t-shirt taut. That revealed the soft swell of her belly. “Alphys and I decided it was time to have a rugrat to chase, so us and the pop-sicle are on it.”
Popsicle? He didn’t want to know. But he did ask, curiously, “When are you due?”
“‘Bout two months.”
“Two months!” Edge blinked at her in shock. “I thought you’d be...more…” He held his arms out in front of his own empty stomach cavity in a wide circle.
She scoffed loudly and flexed, the firm ball of her bicep popping. “When you’re swole like me, the baby’s gotta fight the abs. And let me tell you, they’re trying.” She smirked then, a fiendish sort of glitter in her eye that filled Edge with equal parts fondness and terror. “You wanna feel the baby?”
“Well, I—”
Too late, she already stood and snatched up his hand, plopped it the slight curve of her belly. It was oddly firm, not at all what he was expecting and before he adjusted to that, there came a wiggle, like a fish was caught in her stomach which it might very well be. Ugh, that was disturbing. He preferred children after the creation process was finished.
She let him pull away and from her grin, she knew exactly how Edge felt about it; some of her glee rather resembled Red’s...or another Undyne, from another world. She flopped back in her chair and gave her belly an absent scratch. “So, when are you and Stretch gonna--”
“Please don’t ask.”
She frowned. “Oh. Sorry.”
It wasn’t her concern or her business, it was private, between him and Stretch, and Edge was as astonished as anyone to hear himself say, “He doesn’t want children.”
“What?” Undyne’s face twisted into disbelief. “Get off it. He loves kids, he’s always getting into trouble with the local ankle-biters. Bet you could talk him into it.”
“I don’t want to talk him into it.” Edge barely kept his testiness down, he knew Undyne, and knew she didn’t mean any harm, and he was the one who’d opened the topic. "I never want him to feel like a child is something he needs to agree to to keep me. I—“ He hesitated, thinking of Stretch, and his irritation faded. His faint smile was automatic, as natural as breathing when it came to thinking about his husband. As terrible as their anniversary had been with him mostly in a drugged sleep and Stretch curled up against him in his arms, Edge would have rather done it that way a dozen times over than to not have it at all. “I love him and I’ve accepted that we won’t have children. That’s our choice.”
For the first time, that honestly felt true. He supposed there was a faint hope lingering after their brief discussion last year, one that nagged at the back of his mind, tugged at his soul. But if he forced himself to truly consider it, Edge was happy with their lives the way they were and that wasn’t simply from Stretch’s preference; if they had a child, he would need to severely limit his other commitments to the Embassy and the Monster community as a whole. Plus there were the children at the Y to consider, children whose home lives were far from perfect, who craved a stabilizing influence.
Those children needed him more than he needed to speculate on an imaginary child. Even the children in New New home, who had loving parents of their own, needed to be protected from a world that was not yet as accepting as they might wish. The glaring white cast on his foot was proof of that.
That little pang he sometimes got when he thought of having a child of his own eased, fading, and Edge was content to let it go.
Undyne was looking at him with unusual shrewdness. “Yeah, I get that. Well, you’ll be a great uncle, both of ya, and I’m betting we’ll be trying to hook you up with babysitting duties.”
“I’d like that,” Edge said honestly. “And all the other neighborhood children seem to enjoy having a spare uncle or two. I’m sure your tadpole will be delighted to join the rest.”
She slapped her knees and stood. “Well, I gotta get back to the shitshow...and don’t even bother asking, I’m not supposed to tell you anything yet, that’s orders from on high. Just wanted to check in on you.” She sobered, and said with unusual softness. “And thank you. If I’d been there--” She shuddered, her hand falling down to rest on the slight swell of her belly.
“You don’t need to thank me, but you’re welcome,” Edge said sincerely.
Her somberness split into another wide grin. “But while I’m here….”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Sharpie, waggling her eyebrows as she held it up.
Ugh. They’d only put the cast on this morning and thus far, no one else had been around to attempt signing it. Grimly, Edge nodded. This was a bonding ritual of sorts in this world, and he would not be so churlish as to refuse it.
“Nothing obscene,” he warned. Undyne scoffed, but obediently signed only her name, adding in a clumsy sketch of her own face saying ‘get well soon, nerd!’
The door opened as she was finishing, Stretch barrelling inside with several bags in his arms. “okay, i know it’s cold out, but you won’t be able to do any turns on the catwalk soon anyway, so i figured gym shorts would be easier to get on you--hey!” He stopped, outraged. “i was gonna do that!”
“I left you plenty of room,” Undyne snorted.
Stretch harrumphed and started digging through one of the bags. He pulled out an entire package of sharpies in a startling array of colors. “my canvas is the world!”
“Your canvas is on my body,” Edge said dryly. “You may sign your name and sketch a small picture, Van Gogh.”
“salvador dali had a better moustache. and both ears.”
“Considering you have neither--”
“yeah, yeah. hey, undyne, congrats on the bump.”
“Thanks,” Undyne said easily, but Edge noticed she didn’t try to grab Stretch’s hand and drag it over to feel any kicking. Neither did Stretch ask and that seemed best. “See you two nerds around!”
“See ya,” Stretch called even as he plopped down to sit next to Edge’s carefully propped leg. “oh, yeah, here, i got you this.”
From the depths of his bag came a couple of books, not novels, but crosswords and sudoku, both with bright titles declaring them ‘World’s Most Difficult Puzzles’! There were also two metal squares about the size of his fist and when Edge inspected them, he found that they were latticed, dozens of different parts that appeared to be a whole.
“those are supposed to be really tough brainteasers...shit!” Stretch had been struggling with opening the packet of pens and when he finally pried the plastic apart, they fell out in a burst, scattering over the bed. Grumbling, he gathered them up in a messy rainbow pile near Edge’s cast.
Edge added a blue sharpie that had made it all the way up to the pillow to the pile, then set books and puzzles on his other side. “Thank you.”
“sure. i figured you were tired of watching other people baking when you can’t stand up and do it yourself.” Stretch contemplated his pile of pens, his face screwed up comically, and his expression brightened into an ‘aha’ as he picked up one in bright orange. Of course.
“Stretch?”
“hmm?” he said absently, pen poised over the rough plaster.
“I love you.” Edge said it with all the deep, longing sweetness in his battered soul, the warmth that rose merely from thinking of Stretch, trying in some small way to project the depth of his love.
Stretch blinked and lowered his pen. Undyne might not normally be shrewd but Stretch very much was and his look was assessing. Wondering, perhaps, what happened while Undyne was here.
“i love you, too.” Then his mouth quirked in a lopsided smile. “but you’re interrupting art here.”
Edge smiled back and shook his head. “Far be it from me to play the part of philistine.”
“actually, this might end up more picasso,” Stretch mused, “guess we’ll see.” The tip of the sharpie touched down as Stretch began, but Edge didn’t watch his dubious attempt at art. Instead, he began inspecting the brain teaser his husband brought for him.
As if Stretch wasn’t a walking, talking brain teaser every day.
Edge lightly touched each joint as he contemplated how to begin, listening as Stretch hummed down by his feet, sketching something that would likely be terrible for him to love.
-finis-
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wistfulcynic · 5 years
Text
Three Non-Blondes 1 / 4
I needed a spell of distraction from reality and the result is this bit of silliness. Dedicated to @katie-dub, just because she is amazing and deserves all the nice things. I hope it makes you smile.
Summary: Mary Margaret is certain that her fiancé's sister Emma and his best friend Killian are perfect for each other. What she doesn't know is that they think so too. Matchmaking hijinks ensue. 
Rating: T
AO3
Part One: 
David turned away from the bar and moved carefully back to the booth where his friends were waiting, balancing the three beers in his hands with an expertise born of long experience. He set them on the table with a flourish. “Not a drop spilled,” he said proudly.  
“Well done, mate,” said Robin, picking up one of the glasses and raising it in tribute. David’s grin flashed brightly then dimmed as he noticed that someone was missing. 
“Where’s Jones?”
Robin inclined his head towards the far corner of the room. Ah, thought David, following his friend’s gaze. Of course. Killian was standing with one hip against the vintage jukebox that was their neighbourhood pub’s pride and joy, leaning into the space of a willowy brunette, a wicked grin creasing his face as he whispered something in her ear. “Well, that’s him out for the night,” said David, sliding into the booth. “At least we get to drink his beer.” 
“Every cloud,” grinned Robin, and they clinked their glasses together in toast. 
A minute later their dastardly plans for Killian’s beer were foiled when the man himself appeared in the booth. 
“Ah, is that for me? Excellent.” Killian picked up the glass and downed half of it before his friends could speak. 
“What are you doing back here, mate?” asked Robin, “It looked like you were in there.” 
“Hmmm?” Killian looked distracted, then seemed to remember. “Oh, right. Couldn’t be bothered.” 
“Couldn’t be bothered?” repeated Robin in disbelief. He glanced at the brunette who was now sitting at the bar, arms crossed beneath a generous bosom, soft lips pouting, stunningly beautiful and clearly insulted. “She looks worth a bit of bother to me.” 
“Well, you’re welcome to have a go,” smirked Killian, laughing as Robin blanched. 
“I have my own brunette at home, thank you very much,” he said. And even the idea of cheating on her terrifies me, he very carefully didn’t say.
“So do I,” piped up David. “You know, you might consider keeping one around for a while, Killian. They’re a nice thing to come home to.” 
“Thanks for your concern, mates, but I prefer to remain free of any romantic entanglements, brunette or otherwise,” said Killian firmly. “That one had marriage-y eyes.” He gave an elaborate shudder. “Not worth it.” 
“‘Marriage-y eyes’?” repeated David. “Really?”
“Yes, really, Dave, and you know exactly what I mean by the expression. Mary Margaret has the worst case of marriage-y eyes I’ve ever seen.” 
“Maybe that’s because we’re about to get married.” 
“Aye, the only appropriate time to have them. And I’m sure we can all agree that two minutes into a conversation with a stranger who’s just trying to put a song on the jukebox is not an appropriate time to be very obviously choosing the place settings in one’s head, hmm?”
David and Robin had to agree that ‘marriage-y eyes’ in those circumstances seemed a bit premature. 
“There we are then,” said Killian, returning his attention to his beer. 
The men drank in silence for a moment. 
“Although, now I think about it, you haven’t picked anyone up in a long time,” said David. 
“Apropos of nothing,” Robin teased. 
Killian heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Why this sudden lurid interest in my sex life, lads, are you not getting enough at home?” he taunted. “Need to live vicariously through my exploits?”
“Not at all,” said David. 
“Quite the contrary,” said Robin. 
“We’re just worried you’re not getting enough,” said David, with a grin that would have been pure evil on a less wholesome face. 
“Your solicitude is touching,” said Killian drily, “But I assure you I am not suffering for lack of female company or attention, even without a brunette waiting at home. Now can we talk about something else, please?”
David frowned. He knew Killian well enough to spot when he was lying, and he wasn’t. So where was he getting all this female company and attention? Certainly not from the bar, not for weeks. Months even. His frown deepened as he tried to remember the last time he’d seen Killian go home with a woman. 
Just then the door of the pub opened and a wide grin spread across Killian’s face. David turned to see what he was grinning at and felt his own face split in a delighted smile. 
“Looks like they weren’t content to wait at home after all,” Killian teased. “Modern women, eh?” He stood to allow Mary Margaret to slide into the booth next to David as Regina took the seat next to Robin and immediately began making out with him.
“She’s had a lot to drink,” said Mary Margaret, by way of explanation. 
Killian raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I do need a brunette,” he muttered.  
“Highly recommended,” said David as he kissed his fiancée. “Where’s Emma?” he asked her. “I thought she was with you tonight?”
“She was. She said something about third wheels, or fifth ones, and went home about half an hour ago.” Killian’s eyes widened with what looked like alarm and he grabbed his phone to check the time. Mary Margaret didn’t notice. “But she’ll see us at your mom’s tomorrow,” she informed David. 
“Well,” said Killian, draining the last of his beer. “I need to be off myself. Goodnight, lovers.” 
“What, you’re going already? But it’s so early!” David protested. 
“Yeah, come on Killian, I’ve hardly seen you these past few months,” said Mary Margaret. 
“Ah, yes, well, as much as I hate to agree with the lovely Swan, I also do not relish being the third wheel, or even the fifth one,” said Killian, glancing at his phone again. “And I have, uh, an early morning.” 
“You work from home, you can set your own hours.” 
“I have a deadline. Sorry, lads, I have to go.” His hand flexed on his phone and his body language was tense. 
“Well, all right,” said David, wondering what the heck could be going on with his friend, and if Killian might be persuaded to talk about it. For a man so skilled with words he didn’t talk a lot about himself. “But you’re coming to my mom’s for dinner tomorrow, right?”
“Ah,” Killian had been easing towards the door but now he turned back and shifted his feet uncomfortably, scratching behind his ear. “I think not, mate. I prefer not to cross swords with your sister when there’s family china that could end up as collateral damage.” 
“Don’t be an idiot, my mom knows better than to use the good china when you come over,” grinned David. “And I’m sure Emma can be persuaded to play nice for an afternoon.” 
“Well, we’ll see then,” said Killian with one of the bland, conciliatory smiles he hid behind when he really didn’t want to commit to something. He shrugged into his jacket and with a small bow to David and Mary Margaret and another raised eyebrow at the tangle of limbs and smacking noises that was Regina and Robin, he was gone. 
David kissed Mary Margaret’s temple and she snuggled into his side. “I wish Killian didn’t feel like he had to avoid Emma,” he said. “They may never be friends, but I’d like for them at least to be able to be in the same room together.” 
“Oh, David,” sighed Mary Margaret. “You are a police detective, it’s your job to spot clues. How can you be so unobservant about your own best friend?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Killian’s got a… well, a thing for Emma.” 
“A thing?” repeated David, disbelievingly. 
“Yeah. A crush, the hots, whatever you want to call it. He’s into her.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Practically since the moment they met. I can’t believe you’ve never noticed it.” 
“Really?”
“Oh for goodness sake, David! He can’t keep his eyes off her! And whenever she talks to another man he clenches his jaw so hard that this little muscle in it starts to jump around.” She paused, taking a sip of David’s beer. “It’s pretty attractive, actually, in a sort of broody, Heathcliff way.” 
“WHAT?”
Mary Margaret smiled sweetly and patted his hand. “There there,” she said placatingly, and kissed his cheek. “I feel for Killian though,” she continued. “He’s really very sensitive under all that swagger.” She ignored David’s snort of disbelief. “It must hurt him badly, the way she treats him.” 
“Wait, are you talking about Emma and Killian?” Regina broke in. 
“Yes we are, and welcome to the conversation.” Mary Margaret turned her sweet smile on her stepsister. “You’ve got lipstick on your chin,” she said.  
Regina grabbed a napkin and wiped her chin, then handed it to Robin. “On my chin as well?” he asked. 
“Best just to wipe your whole face, I think,” smirked David. Regina rolled her eyes. 
“Back to guyliner and the blonde—” 
“Hey, that’s my sister—” 
“That sounds like an 80s buddy cop show—”
“I always thought she was the one who was into him.” Regina declared, glaring at the both of them. 
“Really?” Mary Margaret leaned across the table, accidentally elbowing David in her haste. 
“Well, yes, isn’t it obvious?” It was never clear if Regina had to make an effort to be so condescending or if it just came naturally. Mary Margaret had learned to ignore it. “If she weren’t interested in him she’d be a lot nicer,” Regina explained. “She’s nice to men she has no interest in. Look at poor Graham.” 
They all nodded in agreement. Poor Graham. 
“So she pushes Killian away because she wants him so much. I mean, she’s hardly going to come on to him the way all the other women do, not Emma.” 
“That’s a good point,” Mary Margaret concurred. 
David was still wincing from the impact of his beloved’s sharp cubital joint on his ribs. “Hold on, let me get this straight,” he wheezed. “You think that Emma and Killian are both into each other, but they don’t know it because she’s mean to him and he avoids her?” 
“That’s about the size of it, I think,” said Mary Margaret. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She and Regina locked eyes and nodded conspiratorially, and David began to panic. 
“If you’re thinking that we should play matchmaker, stop thinking it,” he said firmly. “I’m not entirely sure I want Killian dating my sister.” 
“Don’t be ridiculous, David, they’re perfect for each other,” said Mary Margaret, and Regina nodded. Even Robin seemed to agree. “Now, let’s talk strategy.” Mary Margaret’s voice was both exited and edged with steel. There was no stopping her now, David knew. “First, David, you have to get Killian to your mom’s tomorrow. Then we…” 
***
On the other side of town, Killian, blissfully unaware of his friends’ plotting, stepped out of an Uber and closed the door carefully so as not to disturb his neighbours. They already disapproved of him more than enough. “Thanks, mate,” he said, waving to the driver. The car took off and Killian bounded up the steps to his door, eager anticipation making his hands tremble as he unlocked it. Once inside he kicked off his boots and flung his jacket on a hook without his usual attention to tidiness, then ran to his bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. When he opened the door his face lit up with a bright grin. 
“Took you long enough,” said the naked woman in his bed. 
“Aye, I had a bit of a job to shake off the lads this evening.” He smirked suggestively at her. “They’re concerned I’m not getting enough sex.” 
“Well,” she purred, eyeing him appreciatively as he shed his clothes, “We’ll have to remedy that. Did they have any suggestions?”
He crawled into the bed and pressed her back against the pillows, kissing her deeply. “They seem to think I need to get myself a brunette to come home to,” he said when they broke apart several minutes later, nuzzling her neck. 
“I suppose we could always role play.” She gasped as he sucked on her pulse point, her fingertips trailing down his side, enjoying the way his muscles leapt at her touch. 
“No need, love.” He pulled back and smiled into her eyes. “I have everything I could ever want right here.” 
She smiled back. “Me too.” 
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