Provoke the blade and suffer its sting!

ICARIAN VOHL ; the ADVENTURER of ERDENIA.

—- I COULD HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT.

hey, listen! did you see ICARIAN VOHL ? i heard the  ELYSIAN has been in vokania for HER ENTIRE LIFE. the ADVENTURER hails from ERDENIA and is known to be VIVACIOUS and CLEVER. word has it that they can also be ENVIOUS and STUBBORN. their loyalties lie with THEIR FAMILY, but you didn’t hear all of that from me. they’re often associated with CRADLING A SCRAPED KNEE WITH HICCOUGHING SOBS, HITTING THE END OF YOUR FREE FALL, GRIPPING THREADBARE SHEETS IN YOUR NIGHTMARES AND WAKING UP ON FEATHERED PILLOWS. only time will tell what fate has in store for them.

full name: icarian vohl nickname: rian age: two-hundred and twenty-one species: elysian gender + pronouns: cisfemale + she/her sexuality: bisexual, but would be open to exploring beyond that label marital status: single and unmarried kingdom + allegiance: erdenia, to their family

height: 5'2" build: petite hair: dark hair with an eclectic array of shimmering stones woven into whatever up-do she’s sporting eyes: brown honeyed eyes complexion: shimmering tan skin that reflects a nearly golden , iridescent sparkle about her elysian: small, yet perfectly maintained wings that are a unique pearlescent charcoal, the grey scales giving almost a blue sheen. the wings are uncharacteristically weak in comparison to other elysians, likely due to the lack of proper care in her developing years, but they've never been able to verify the incident of her birth. they've wondered if her poor elysian physique is due to the possibility that she may be a halfling.

i. most stories begin at birth but as far as rian cares to say, she’s an orphan. who cares for a pair of people who did not care for her ?  they place their dragon blooded child in the arms of a destitute human orphanage and leave, knowing that no one would want a horn-headed baby. but, knowing that there must be a life beyond threadbare sheets and knocking elbows at an over-crowded dinner table full of whining children, she’s gone before she’s even lost all of her baby teeth. when rian spends her nights laying in tall grass, ignoring her rumbling tummy, she imagines herself a loose feather dancing along the skies, never to land in one spot. this is where she lives comfortably: THE IN-BETWEEN.

ii. she doesn’t know where she starts, and she doesn’t know where she ends up, but rian knows that when she looks up one day and sees him, she thinks that elias vohl is her guardian angel. her takes her under his wing. literally. she’s a frail little thing — already the runt of the orphanage with her chicken-sized wings, she’s even weaker after travelling alone and on foot for what feels like months. it takes some time, but with his gentle care, rian sheds the the hurt and stops running — no longer afraid that she’ll be left behind again. she opens up like a flower, blossoming in the sea salt breeze and dazzling summer heat. 

iii. one day, rian wakes up and decides that she wants to spread her wings. she bids her dear papa goodbye with a kiss to each of his tear-stained cheeks and sets out on her second great journey. she travels to each of the kingdoms, looking for home but nothing feels as right as the days in the erdenia. but, never one to return with her tail between her legs, she travels on. she's never quite made peace with the solitude of journeying, seeking companionship on her travels. rian is coming to learn that she very much like exploring with friends in pursuit of the next great adventure. papa vohl was great company, but unlike her travelling party, she was sure that he would pop a blood vessel if she suggested exploring the churon forests for fun.

iv. in analyzing rian's personality, her abandonment issues are the loudest thing about her ( and that's saying something ). she's clingy but will do everything she can to hide it, her fragile heart being poorly guarded. she makes friends easily, perhaps too easily, growing fond off them and immediately fearing they'll leave. rian has a nasty green eye, greedy little fingers like a magpie. she's a bit like a child, thanks to elias' coddling but she's well-meaning all in all !

tdlr ; little dragon runaway never stops running

jaehyun: the charming

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, nicknames, dirty talking, possessiveness, rough sex, praise kink, oral (giving and receiving), spitting, choking, unprotected (wrap up yall!!) ☆ WC: 4.1k ☆ SYNOPSIS: A harmless game of Truth Or Dare with your housemates reveals Jaehyun’s true desires and has him eyeing you the entire night.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: this is the only part for jaehyun ! sorry for the long wait,, i started this during my writing hiatus and did not have much motivation to finish it since its been really difficult to write smut lately :/ regardless, i hope you can leave me some feedback if you liked it <3 doyoung’s part will be the next in the series once i get to it !

“If you could kiss anyone in this room right now, who would it be?” Johnny beckons his drink to Jaehyun, who blinks at him with knitted eyebrows and a quizzical expression.

It’s one of those rare nights where all your housemates are home and Doyoung is actually out of his room to participate in everyone’s foolishness. All six of you sit comfortably in the living room as the fifth round of Truth or Dare commences. 

You share the large couch with Jaemin and Haechan, sandwiching you in between them happily. Doyoung, Jaehyun and Johnny are seated in their own respective chairs that circle the tiny coffee table in the center. 

And if your housemates could be any more distracting, Jaehyun sits laid-back without a shirt on and grey sweatpants that fit loosely on his legs, manspreading as if he has all the space in the world. His soft hair falls messily around his face from constantly running his hands through it and his abs flex without him needing to do much.

It’s hard not to stare, but no one in the room calls you out for doing so. They’ve all stared at you plenty enough times on other occasions, so it would be hard for any of them to give you a counterargument. Jaehyun simply looks good enough to devour, and he can say the same for you as he steals sly glances your way.

Every subtle connection of smoldering eye contact sends a thrill down your core, and the smirk paired with his dotted dimple has you swooning for him over and over. Jaehyun knows every way to drive you wild without needing to say or touch you.

It’s unbelievable how that man has only allowed you to see his intimacy once with the way he whistles whenever you walk down the stairs in a cute outfit or how often he compliments your butt just for the pure satisfaction of you having one. Despite having the highest body count in the entire house, he has great self control and never comes off as being too needy. 

And every time he is needy, he already has another girl in his room to satisfy him. So, this never gave you another opportunity to sleep with him as much as you wanted to. If you weren’t so bashful, you might’ve had enough courage to just walk into his room and ask. 

Nonetheless, here you both are: sitting across from each other during a slowly escalating game of Truth or Dare and eyeing each other every chance you can get.

“Shouldn’t you ask y/n that question?” Jaehyun mumbles, finding Johnny’s question rather ridiculous since the ratio in the room is 1 girl to 5 guys and finds no curiosity to know how bad of a kisser the rest of his housemates are. “I think you’d rather know her answer than mine.”

You clear your throat when every attention is drawn toward you, expecting you to give a truthful response when it isn’t even your turn. “What if I didn’t pick truth?”

“You want a dare?” Jaemin rests a hand on your bare thigh and turns delightfully toward you with a dark mischievous gleam in his eye.

Gulping, you try your best to diffuse the situation. “It’s not my turn.” 

“I’ll give my turn to you.” Jaehyun smiles and proceeds to gesture toward you to speak.

Bewildered, you’re looking to Doyoung to protest about such unfair grounds of switching the rules. However, he doesn’t say a word, shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal. “You’re all unbelievable.” You scoff sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’s just a friendly game. Everyone wants you to go.” Haechan clicks his tongue out of impatience, the anticipation practically suffocating the whole house.

“Ask me when it’s my turn.” You stand your ground and send Jaehyun a quick glare. 

The tension drops instantly from the stiff atmosphere. Haechan’s groan erupts beside you as he sits back against the couch with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, buttercup. I’ll answer Johnny’s ridiculous question, but know that I have a good one for you.” Jaehyun leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together loosely. “I’d kiss y/n.” 

Your breath hitches, but no one else is actually surprised by his answer. “Yeah, I’d kiss y/n too if this was my selection pool.” Doyoung remarks with a roll in his eyes.

“I mean,” Jaehyun sits back coolly in his chair, hands stretched behind his head and every muscle flexed in view. Every movement has your mouth watering at his impressive body on display. “Even if we were playing with other people, I’d still choose y/n.” A dimple smile causes your heart to beat rapidly.

Johnny scoffs, “if we circled up all your flings, you’d still choose y/n?” 

Jaehyun ponders the hypothetical for a second, but his eyes land back on yours and every hesitation disappears. “Yeah. She has the softest lips.” He says, very matter of fact.

Your fingers unconsciously graze against your lips briefly, before you clear your throat and shake away the power of his arousing words. “Okay, okay. Let’s move on?” 

“Okay, y/n. Truth or Dare?” Jaehyun picks this open opportunity to bring the attention back to you. Your housemates wait patiently for your choice, with eyebrows raised in the thick tension that this simple game has built up.

With shifty eyes and a dry throat, you mutter. “Dare.” 

There is a notable sparkle in Jaehyun’s dark lustful orbs. “I dare you to kiss the person that you think is the hottest in this room.” 

“Well, it would be difficult to kiss myself.” Rolling your eyes, the edge in your tone is enough to make the rest of them snicker. 

“I’m done after this round. It’s always the weirdest twists whenever we play games like this together.” Doyoung crosses his arms, throwing a small fit at the request. 

Johnny smirks, “because you know y/n wouldn’t kiss you?” 

Doyoung’s mouth opens to protest, but he falls short of a defensive response. He takes his defeat and slumps back against the chair, pouty and grumpy. “Just get it over with and kiss Jaehyun.” 

With a turn of events, you get up from your spot on the couch. Jaehyun follows your every move, your stare never leaving his own. Like a lost puppy, you lead him into thinking the kiss would be for him. However, you lean forward and hold Doyoung’s chin gently, planting a soft kiss on the equally shocked boy. 

“I think Doyoung is the hottest because he treats me with the most chivalry.” The sweetness that taints your mocking words has Doyoung turning red and Jaehyun turning into stone. The charming smile that lights up your darkest parts is gone, and Jaehyun blinks back at you with a tight jaw. 

Jaemin and Haechan read the room too well, excusing themselves before the tension reaches its peak. Doyoung gulps, glancing between you and Jaehyun, and awkwardly makes his way back to his room. Johnny chuckles at the abrupt end of the night, patting Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly before also heading up to bed. 

Every next move is crucial. With your weight barred on your left leg, you cross your arms with as much attitude as you can to push Jaehyun’s buttons further. “Jaehyun, if you really wanted a kiss, you could just ask me without wasting a turn.”

“Where’s the fun in that, buttercup? You clearly like testing your limits.” His voice drops at the end of his sentence. Jaehyun stands up, approaching you slowly. “But if you want my attention, you could just ask me without trying to make me jealous.”

His boldness catches you off guard, leaving you a bit speechless to formulate a proper explanation. Your hesitation gets caught in your throat when Jaehyun lightly places his hand on your waist. “It’s late, we should probably get to bed.” His raspy baritone cadence rumbles your chest.

Fingers graze his arm softly, but he pulls away before you can get a hold of him. “Are you actually going to sleep?”

Jaehyun walks to the bottom of the staircase, motioning you to walk first. “No, I’ll be up thinking about you.” A smirk finishes his sensual taunt and you cautiously head up the stairs. 

He follows directly after you and a whistle escapes his lips. “Have I given you your daily ass compliment yet?”

“Got one this morning.” With each step, Jaehyun is quick to match. 

“Well, you look amazing everyday.” He meets you at the top of the steps and when you’re ready to part back into your room, he stops you. “Where’s my kiss goodnight, baby?” 

You can’t possibly count the numerous times you’ve rolled your eyes being around him. “In my room, if you dare wish to enter.” Though your statement was clearly sarcastic, Jaehyun raises an questionable eyebrow. 

“I’ll only come if you let me in.” His innocent eyes do not match his sinister tone and his hidden innuendos. 

“I guess I always go into your room, it would be nice to have a change.” Taking his hand, you lead him down the hallway. The doors of your other housemates are oddly closed, but you figured they wanted some privacy. His warm hand feels rough against your palm and your heart drums as you two inch closer to your bedroom.

Jaehyun gently closes your door and examines your room as if he’s never been inside. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say, dropping his hand and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“Do you leave your underwear drawer open for all your friends to see?” He snickers, his pinky holding your special red lace panties up in the air. Your eyes go wide as you quickly yank the material out of his possession and shove the cabinet closed.

“I wouldn’t have figured you were the nosey type.” You grumble, but he takes this close proximity to pull you into his bare chest. His firm hand gives your ass a soft squeeze.

“It was quite obviously on display.” His dark whisper sends a chill down your spine and butterflies to swirl in the pit of your core. The faint smell of his body wash suffocates you all around and his sultry stare has you melting in his hands. It is so difficult to resist him, you want everything that is Jung Jaehyun.

Your words are quite possibly caught in your throat, but the hesitation does not show in your expression. Lightly, your fingertips trace the outline of his biceps and his dark stare follows every drag. Admittedly, Jaehyun will find any excuse to grab your attention. Call him possessive for no good reason, but something inside him bubbles with envy whenever your other housemates even leave a lingering stare.

Although he’s not the type to be vocal about it, his facial expressions speak volumes. May it be his competitive nature, but he can’t let the others have you. You have unknowingly become off-limits to the rest, but frankly, you don’t care all too much. Your prize is already in front of you.

“Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait all night again?” With every will, you try your best to control the nervous tremble in your bold rhetorical question.

Jaehyun wastes no more time; soft lips crash into your own and you feel like you’re floating. Only he can make you feel this way. Hands in hair, the tug on his fresh locks has him moaning through the kiss. Jaehyun loses himself in you, rubbing his semi-hard cock against your thigh and gripping your ass harshly in his hand.

Every drip of saliva is swapped in the mess of your connected mouths and you’re reminded of how rough this man enjoys to be. Your knees buckle at the thought of him and Jaehyun is quick to hold you up, placing you strategically at the end of your bed. 

Pulling away, he stands in front of you with the largest dick print against his sweatpants, along with a small wet spot. There are no bashful words exchanged as the room is filled with heavy breathing and sultry looks. Jaehyun guides your hand to his waistband, silently waiting for you to free him.

Looking up at your beautiful boy, the neediness of release almost ruins his perfect charming look. Hair is tousled wildly across his eyes and his bottom lip escapes underneath the top row of his pearly teeth. He just looks so fucked out already, you can’t imagine how much he was holding back earlier.

You pull down enough of his pants for his dick to spring up right in front of you, not expecting the lack of underwear. Your small gasp cause him to chuckle, pushing the back of your head forward toward his hard cock. “Surprised?”

“You weren’t wearing underwear the entire night?” You question him as your hands cup his balls. A sharp intake of breath is his only response before he can compose himself. 

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun stutters, “Like you were?” He throws his head back when your warm tongue flicks against his throbbing red tip. Every vein in his arm and neck pops on display as he grabs a hold of your hair.

“You wouldn’t know.” You snicker, running your tongue up and down his shaft. Jaehyun looks back down at your piercing eyes and his dick right above your cheek.

A smirk grows devilishly, “I’m about to find out.” Pushing your shoulder back gently, your back lands comfortably on the mattress. Your heart is racing as Jaehyun gets down on his knees, situating himself in between your open legs.

“May I?” He asks, warm hands on your inner thighs as he patiently waits for your answer.

“Yes.” Jaehyun pulls your shorts down to reveal your favorite comfort cotton panties that have faded from their original color. Naturally, you grow embarrassed and quickly slap your legs closed before Jaehyun can process. 

He blinks at you questionably, quite taken aback by the abrupt motion. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t completely expecting to sleep with anyone tonight. I’m not quite prepared down there.” Your gaze drops and you anxiously fist your sheets in your sweaty hands.

Jaehyun nods, understanding your implications. “I don’t care about those things. You are…” landing a quick peck on your bare knee, he rubs reassuring circles with his thumb. “.... the prettiest baby ever. And if you’d let me, buttercup, I want to make you feel good.” 

He has always been suave with his words, as if he knows the handbook to get butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slowly, your legs open back up before him and the slightest groan rumbles from his throat.

The wet patch on your panties is hard to ignore and he’s mesmerized, to say the least. He peels down your underwear and uses his thumb to spread your lips. Leaning forward, Jaehyun lightly licks at your erect clit and your twitch in response is enough to feed into his ego. 

He dives hungrily, eating you out until your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back is arching off of the bed. He flattens his tongue against you, pushing in and out of your dripping hole in a rhythmic motion. His nose is deep in your skin, intoxicated by your arousal, and his eyes are drinking up your uncontrollable reactions.

It’s as if electricity shocks through your lower half. The pleasure that comes with every lick and sweet suckle has you panting for more. His name echoes from your tender lips while Jaehyun inserts two fingers to stretch you out. The initial ache subsides into an indescribable pleasure; it’s the feeling of being full of anything mixing with the sensitivity of tongue against clit that has you practically on the verge of release. 

Jaehyun isn’t going to give it to you that easily. The moment your moans grow bolder, your legs begin to shake, your hand putting a little more pressure on his head, he pulls away and gets up. A desperate sigh crushes your chest as the build up leads to dissatisfaction. Jaehyun wipes his chin with the back of his hand, his two fingers glistening before being shoved into your own mouth. 

“That’s my good girl, give yourself a taste.” His hot words cause you to flood a bit more, the feeling of wetness pooling at your core. However, you two toy each other with no end as he is provoked by the way your tongue sensually swirls around his digits and how your hips keep squirming closer to the edge. “How badly do you want to get fucked?”

His firm hand holds your moving hips into the bed and you’re aching to be filled with his dick. He’s so hard that it slaps against his abdomen, red tip and spewing precum. Nonetheless, his self restraint is quite strong as he notices the defeat in your expression. Enough teasing, your body wants him endlessly. 

“Jaehyun, I want you to give me all that you got.” At the end of your request, he enters you slowly with a breathy moan. The stretch is much more than his two fingers, causing you to squirm and wiggle. Inch by inch, Jaehyun fills you to your brim and pauses for you to adjust to his size. 

“Fuck, it’s been awhile since we’ve slept together. I almost forgot how tight you are.” How could this man possibly smile with so much innocence while saying such foul things? The next action causes you to go a bit dizzy as he spits down at your clit and rubs it lovingly with his thumb. You practically see stars on your mundane ceiling. 

He starts moving his hips, deep long thrusts pulling out to only sharply fill you up again. Jaehyun is relentless as every thrust forward has you moving more and more up the bed. Your legs are pressed against your chest, folding you over to hit your sweet spot. When his tip grazes upon the greatest feeling ever, your grip on the sheets grows tighter and he’s smirking at how your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy and shock.

“You’re so good at taking my cock.” He pants, moving faster than before. “My baby hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, has she?”

You’re at a loss for words at every drag and push. Regardless of you wanting to speak, no words seem to make its way out. Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you, dark grin and a menacing taunt in his low voice. A chuckle begins his sentence, “I know… it’s hard to talk when you feel so good right, buttercup? I can feel you getting more excited down there.”

Placing your legs around his waist, he leans down over you. His sneaky hand travels up your torso, giving your boobs a light squeeze through your shirt. Then, he wraps his hand around your neck gently and carefully, only applying enough pressure to drive you wild. 

He breaks his rhythm, reverting back to the previous slow pace. Something about the way you feel around him, hot and tight, needy and wet. Jaehyun just loves how your body reacts.

The feeling of soreness occupies your lower half and you’re more than certain it’s going to be rough tomorrow morning. Every thrust is agonizing, yet powerful enough to be felt in your guts. Jaehyun never fails to leave an impression.

Through your moans, you manage to stutter out his name. “Please, harder.” Jaehyun picks you up, hands supporting your butt and pressing your back against your door. Placing your legs down, you’re standing up right facing him with a confused expression at the change of location.

For a brief moment, his lustful glare is warm and friendly. It’s the same look that greets you in the car when he drives you two to campus. It’s the one he often looks at you with across the dinner table, usually accompanied with his robust laughter. Jaehyun looks at you as if he’s only ever seen you.

However, his next words are far from romantic and his hand finds its way to your throat, pinning you up against the cold door. “I want them to hear how good I fuck you.” Them. The rest of your housemates. Knowing that the house is far from soundproof, Jaehyun wants everyone to know how enthusiastic he makes you feel. 

“But--” As you begin to protest, he drives his hips up and nestles into you. His free hand grips your waist steadily as he barely pulls out, fucking you deeper until you feel him at the pit of your stomach. There is no ability to hold back your pleasure, moans just naturally fill the room and bounce off every wall.

“Cum for me, I know you’re close.” Jaehyun has no intentions to stop, the feeling of both releases being at the tip of your tongues. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me.”

The small bubble inside of you is ready to burst. Jaehyun sucks on his fingers to coat them with saliva and reaches down to stroke at your clit. Like a switch, your internal light bulb explodes and every spark of electricity fuels your every vein. 

Your orgasm electrifies you, causing every limb to shake uncontrollably and sporadically. Jaehyun keeps thrusting up, helping you ride out the intensity of your high. 

“There you go, baby.” A small kiss on your shoulder, he pulls out and the emptiness is felt immediately. Getting on your knees, you take his cock in your mouth to help him finish. He rests his fists on the door, hovering over you as his abs flex beautifully under the fluorescent light. Hollowing out your cheeks, your throat invites him deeper and this causes him to mindlessly thrust into your mouth. 

Jaehyun sounds breathy above you, whining about how close he is to cumming. Silence in the room has been replaced with his heavy pants and soft groans, the sound of suckling and slick saliva droning out anything else.

“Fuck, y/n.” He says, as he holds your cheek in his palm and maintains eye contact with you through his brown locks. The view of his dick being swallowed up in your mouth is more than enough to drive him to his edge, strings of cum coating the back of your throat from his release. The saltiness immediately hits your palette.

Jaehyun tosses his head back until the satisfaction dissipates. Slowly pulling himself out, he moves quickly to find you a tissue. For a moment, neither one of you speak as he silently dresses himself and you wipe the remaining spit off of your lips.

He helps you up from the floor, lightly dusting off your bare knees for you. And he says something to break the slightly awkward atmosphere, “are you kicking me out like you do with the rest of your hookups?” Jaehyun laughs, wide smile and dimples deep in his soft cheeks. The glow in his skin radiates in the dimness, he’s a sight that’s too difficult to look away from.

“Did you want to stay?” Tossing on a pair of fresh underwear and pajama shorts, you have a vague memory of Jaehyun holding you after your first fuck together. 

Though Jaehyun is your friend before anything else, he responds like every other hookup unsure about the next steps. He shrugs, turning around and tapping his back for you to hop on. “I’ll take you to the bathroom to wash up.” 

Jumping on his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, he carries you down the hall to the shared bathroom. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, knowing how embarrassed you are going to be the next morning when facing the rest of your housemates.

“I know you’re just going to come into my room anyways, right?” He sets you down and the door to the bathroom swings open to reveal an equally surprised Haechan. 

“Shit, you two scared me.” The dramatic boy rests a hand on his chest to calm his startled heart. “You might want to air out the bathroom before doing anything in there.” Jaehyun and Haechan share a laugh as you groan, irritated by the putrid fumes that cursed the poorly ventilated bathroom.

“You’re so gross.” You say, punching Haechan jokingly on the arm.

“Says you.” Haechan pauses to poke at Jaehyun’s bare chest, “and you. We are never playing Truth or Dare ever again.” 

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game bro.” Jaehyun snickers.

Haechan pays no more attention to the two of you, back turned and hurrying into his dark room. “I do hate the game now!” He yells in a whisper, shutting his door to end the conversation. You sigh out of relief that Haechan didn’t press for more details or jokes.

Housemates, you never know what adventures you’d run into with them. Nonetheless, you don’t mind and getting to see a shirtless Jaehyun parade around the house is always a treat.

Could I get Knight! Kenpachi and Princess! Reader, otome scenario first meeting please! I hope I read the rules correctly jejdnfnf

YES! Y E S!!!! anon this is SO big brained. Oh my god. Please feel all the freedom to request more prompts for knight!kenpachi.

notes: a first meeting for the game’s surroundings, premise, protagonist, and Kenpachi all wrapped in one. Ah, the divine struggle between duty and lusting after + growing to love one fine motherfucker.

i thought of setting this in a Japanese inspired castle, but I know myself and I would get too caught up in being ‘accurate’. instead i’m gonna stick to what I, a filthy fantasy casual, know.

features: SFW content and some olden day vibes.

Bleach Your Heart: The Otome Ask Game

Knight!Kenpachi + Princess!Reader + First Meeting

You are the only daughter and heir of the castle to survive childhood and beyond. Both your parents live, greeting you with love each day you break fast.

The castle you will one day be Lady of is two grey rectangles of stone connected by one laid on its side in the middle of them, encircled by walls so tall it winds you to climb up them. There is little grandeur in your surroundings beyond the luxury of a full belly and warm room, always. Even the flower gardens are built sturdy rather than pretty.

Life is uncertain in the mountains. But not you. Not within your walls, with your father’s defense strategum to support them. There is even a little town within the castle walls, something no generation before him could hope to maintain and protect successfully.

Your father, who has taught you maths, strategy, and how each part of the castle must be maintained with upmost harmony, has announced it is time.

For marriage. And for more protection.

He is not aging well, hands that once held firm a sword too weak at the wrist to pick up a bowl laden of soup. And those who would battle for his castle are growing more organized—more dangerous.

And He is King before being your father, so you do not fuss even if you feel the weight of his responsibilities crushing you into a curtsy.

Those he will make knights the next morning now sit in the dining hall, eating perhaps their first meal of its kind. There are whole birds on the table, roasted well, and garnished with fresh greens meant to bring crisp freshness to the juicy meat. Thick stew and bowls of berries serve to fill any stomach that the birds do not satisfy. Not grand, but plenty.

You stop at the western entrance, wearied by worries of the future.

There is seldom so much noise as now. The men, all wearing some form of leathers and bits of mail, seem more aflame than the scones that flicker on the walls. You easily spot the newcomers—those who are already knights have been for most your life and are comparably calm.

A man with no hair and colorful makeup springing from the corner of his eyes like wings bangs his tankard on the table one—two—three times after gulping it down in seconds. Yells his victory and calls for another.

The man across from him, hair of oil and feathers truly decorating his eyes, throws a berry at the bald man’s face. It misses.

The bald man turns his head, laughing, to watch the fruit sail past him, and spots you. He waves, calling something you can’t understand, words unfamiliar.

Your hands untangle from behind you and one springs up to return his gesture before you can remember that you are in a doorway, where anyone could be behind you. Perhaps he is being friendly and grateful, you think, for your father choosing him, when so many trained up warriors from your land and the next struggle to find a place with no official war to guide them anymore.

A deep chuckle behind you is all you need to remember your surroundings. You turn, eyesight not filled, but overwhelmed by the height and lean bulk of the man meant to receive the greeting you took for your own.

“Oh,” you say after moments of staring, voice quiet and faraway sounding to your own ears. “Greetings.”

The side of his face where a long scar is carved into skin--above, below, and through his eye--is more lifted into smile than the other. A patch covers his other eye, held by nothing; seemingly nailed into his face by metal studs at the edges of the fabric.

It is not his appearance, punctuated by wild black hair sticking out at the sides like a wolf pelt does at one’s back, but his smile that hushes your manners and leaves you standing there--staring.

The smile is too wide and open. You can not help but remember Martha, who’s smile split her face similarly when hearing that her husband had not returned due to the cold rather than an enemy. Her usually puckered lips had bared her teeth as she laughed harsh, breath white and swirling into the cold air.

He had a smile that spoke of madness.

You heard Martha’s laughter as he acknowledged your words with a nod, asking, “Ya lost or something?”

“Lost,” you say in an echo, eyes drawn to the thin sword at his waist. “N-no. Not at all. I am princess to this castle.”

He laughs, the sound mingling with that which had begun to haunt your ears, as he shrugged. “Guess you’ve never seen a real warrior, then. Thought so, with all the stiffs you’ve got lazin’ around.”

The comment rouses you from where you’d retreated into yourself, drawing your eyes narrow. “I can see you are from across the mountain and perhaps you’ve different ideas of what a true fighter is, but know that all who protect this castle are genuine warriors.”

“Protect? I’m here to fight,” he says, gripping the hilt of his sword and shaking it for emphasis. “That’s what your daddy promised us. Is he a liar?”

“W-no; of course he isn’t,” you lift your chin, responding with gusto. “My father is an honest man and king.”

The man snorts, his head bowing toward the tables of familiar men who had accepted your fistful of flowers and paraded you around on their horses as a child, “They wouldn’t last as a warm up against me.”

“You won’t be fighting them,” you say, eyeing his crossed arms, wanting so much to reach out and smack one of them. “Surely, you must know protection comes before everything? Don’t they teach you that from wherever you come from?”

“Anything I know, I taught myself,” he grunts, smile gone. “And I know a real fighter when I see ‘em. Just like I know I wasn’t hired to sit and wait for a battle to come my way.”

Your father’s words in the throne room pressed you once more and forced a sigh from your chest. “You were hired to escort me to court, then.”

“Yeah, promised a lot of danger along the way, too. Always fun to be had on the edge of a kingdom.” He spoke with utmost confidence, leaning closer than any real knight would dare.

Your father had chosen this man, so you would not ask him to reconsider, but hearing him speak of killing as though it were as much a hobby as needlework or jousting made you bristle.

But you would not let your anger sit on your tongue or coat your words. It would be unwise to lash out against the person who would be a great part responsible for your future safety.

“If you are so great a warrior,” you say slowly, “and the one who will escort me, then it is an honor.”

You dip into a curtsy, listing off your proper title and name before inquiring for his.

“Zaraki Kenpachi--ah fuck, it’s backwards here, ain’t it,” he mumbles, looking to the side, his smile small and human. “Kenpachi Zaraki.”

“Lovely to meet you, Kenpachi Zaraki,” you say, hardly meaning it.

“Nah, you don’t like me at all,” he says as he passes you, large hand giving your back one firm pat. “Do ya, princess?”

“The Bigger One”

Heather Tart is used to many things, be it receiving praise, using her charm to sway a situation to her favor, or asserting her dominance as a respected student at Twilight's School of Friendship.

A punch to the face...is not one of those things.

Feat. Star Chime, Heather (Tart) Reed

Related Chapters: Tongue Twister, Honesty, Confrontation ~Destinyverse Archive~

Story and Description Under The Cut

Heather Tart had a plan. Of course she did. Her meticulous mind could think its brilliant way through anything. Especially when she had a goal so close to her she might just be able to touch it. As such, she used her natural charisma to discreetly excuse herself out of her afterschool clubroom that day. It was a little earlier than the typical time her Science Club ended. Not that it mattered. Not only did their activities finish early, but in their final moments of leisure time, only one topic buzzed relentlessly around the classroom. Princess Luna was here, visiting the School of Friendship. Under what pretense - and for how long - no one knew. Near the end of the day, the regal Alicorn had been spotted by a stray hall monitor. Striding beside Princess Twilight Sparkle, Luna had been touring the school grounds between class periods, quietly observing the students through door windows while they busied themselves with classwork. Yet she was nowhere to be seen once said periods had ended and the hallways bustled with hooves and claws alike. Elusive as ever, their mysterious Moon Princess. One could assume the Princess of the Night had discreetly taken her leave long ago; glorious gossip, however, said otherwise.

Heather's heart had nearly burst when she'd heard the news. Years of dreaming and the heavenly Alicorns were finally rewarding her. The teenaged Earth Pony resisted prancing through the empty halls in her excitement. Upon trotting out the front doors, Heather scanned the beautiful frontal schoolyard and its glistening pond that surrounded the entrance. The sky was still gray from its brief shower hours before, and with careful hooves, the filly made her way across the damp stones cutting through the pond and around the side of the school. With even more precaution, Heather made sure to avoid the mud in favor of patches of rain-touched grass. She hated nothing more than muddying her hooves. And if she was going to meet Princess Luna? She was going to do everything to ensure she'd look as elegant and pristine as ever. Step one: Make her way towards the back, where she knew the school's picnic tables were scattered about just for students during their lunch periods and downtime. Step two: Grab the nearest table towards the backdoors. Probability told her, almost without a shadow of a doubt, that this would be the very exit Princess Luna would use if her tendency to avoid crowds and not cause a fuss was anything to go by. It wasn't one hundred percent guaranteed, but the chances were high enough that Heather was willing to take it. It wouldn't be out of character for her, either. Heather loved sitting at a table on a sunny day to quietly work on homework. Sometimes, as president of her club, she'd even sit there to plan out new fun lab experiments for the Science Club's next meeting. Studious. Conscientious. Hard-working. She could never get enough of teachers and students alike noticing her and praising her efforts. As they should. The scenario in her mind played out the same way. She'll be sitting there, hunched over a notebook and mulling over new club activities, when Princess Luna and Twilight waltz their way out of those doors. They'll see her, Twilight will ask her what she's doing, and Heather would yet again demonstrate her leadership and intellect. Twilight will praise her, introduce her to Luna as one of her best students- And the youngest of the royal sisters will look upon her and remember her name. Heather could feel her heart racing and subconsciously her hooves picked up their pace. Meeting the other princesses, catching their attention, and standing out amongst the drabble...if she were to be honest, she didn't realize just how much she ached for it. Not until now. Not until it was so close- Heather turned the corner, honing in on the table she knew would be hers- Only to find another sitting there. And oh, at the sight of her, Heather felt her very blood boil. Of course she just had to be here. The dullest, most boring-looking Unicorn that had ever insulted Heather's eyes; dull white and cream coat, drab grayish-blue mane, pale and ugly blue irises as narrow as a snake's. And who could ever miss that long, rat-like tail with a tuff of mane at the end, just lying on the bench beside her. She wanted to laugh at this filly's attire too, trying to pass off as prim and proper with an outfit that only made her look like a senile office worker.  Heather knew very well who this was. And she despised her very existence. But as a filly of her own standing at this school, she had appearances to keep up. So with the most saccharine smile she could muster, Heather took long, deliberate steps towards the other filly. It didn't take long for the Unicorn to notice her, those snake eyes flicking up from what had to be the most ostentatious book Heather had ever seen; silver and grey with metallic decor on its cover, embedded with one large tacky-looking gem just as blue-gray and washed out as the filly it belonged to. Heather stopped beside the table, avoiding a muddy patch beneath it, and held the Unicorn's gaze as much as those eyes repulsed her up close. "Hi there! You must be new around here!" Heather chirped. She gave the filly a chance to at least muster a reply. She should have expected the Unicorn to

cautiously eye her like a socially inept buffoon. After an awkward few seconds, she nodded. "I am," the filly managed. Good for her. "Well isn't that nice!" Heather lies through her teeth and a beaming smile. "Then I can't blame you for not knowing! Where you're sitting right now is my usual seat. But hey, now you know, so I'm sure you won't mind moving for me, hm~?" The Unicorn stared at her. Two seconds. Five seconds. Heather watched impatiently as the other filly swept her gaze across the other empty tables around them, almost pointedly. 'Yeah. You heard what I said. I'm not being subtle. Get lost.' Victory was in her grasp, of course. She wasn't the only one here that had pretenses to maintain and denying her civility would only make this filly look like the asshole of the two. And that wouldn't make the Unicorn much of a role model, now would it? Heather's innocent smile stretched expectantly, taking in the Unicorn's deadpan expression boring into her. Another annoying second later and the other filly finally shut her book tight, sliding it to one side without breaking eye contact. "No. I don't think I will." Heather's smile twitched. How she didn't take into account a lack of even the most basic social courtesies from this filly, she'll never know. "Well that's a little harsh," Heather feigned hurt, disguising the simmering fury just beneath her skin. "I just wanted my favorite seat for my studying. Is that really too much to ask for?" An unwavering, distrustful narrow of those eyes was the Unicorn's only response. So. That's how it was going to be. ...yet face-to-face with such blatant defiance, Heather - for the first time - was at a dead end. There was no sweet talking that face. And with no one around, there was no leverage here for her to turn the tables. Behind pursed lips her jaw clenched and her teeth grated. Pathetic. Pathetic. It infuriated her how rapidly the power had shifted - power taken from her in the one place Heather had worked for it.  Power THIS outsider didn't deserve. It was then that Heather's eye honed in on a certain pretty little book, teetering near the edge of the table. Ah. Okay then. Heather could take a loss. She could take a small, minuscule hit to her pride. No one was there to see it. Her goal was still in reach, so long as she kept up pleasantries and proceeded with her plan at the next table over. Heather, however, wasn't above taking small, subtle, petty victories. Anything for the satisfaction of reminding others where she stood around here. "That's too bad...but I understand." Heather sighed and hung her head. "I won't bother you." She turned her body, then. Too quickly. Or just fast enough to make the harsh bump of her flank against the table's edge at least semi-believable. She listened for it... SQUISH A gross squelch cut the silence, a sound that was beautiful to her ears. As she had hoped, turning back around revealed the plummeted book, lying delightfully amongst the brown patch of muck below the table. Despite her gasp, Heather could barely stop herself from grinning at her success. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, and it was just as difficult to stifle a much-needed laugh, especially with how much this Unicorn's face had slackened at the sight beneath them; silvers and greys, now smeared with dark mud. The other filly took in the filthy book with dim eyes. Poor spoiled girl. "I'm so sorry! Let me-" Heather's hoof was inches away from picking up the book to present to the Unicorn - a grand power move in her head - when a sourceless light blinded her. The Earth Pony barely had time to react before something solid rammed straight into her face. All she could do was squeal and tumble back into the ground at the excruciating pain and the sheer force of the impact. There was a wet slippery slide of the earth below her, displaced by the collision of her body. She didn't even know she was holding her stinging face until she pulled back trembling hooves from it, furiously blinking her blurry vision back into focus. Her head throbbed, the blood rushing into it

pulsing loudly in her ears.  While her world was reassembling itself, Heather felt the fabric of her torso become seized and in moments her entire body was being pulled up by a shocking amount of strength. The open-air was suddenly freezing against her pelt, forcing her delayed senses to fully experience the scorching hot pain spreading through her muzzle and cheeks. Her left eye especially struggled to stay open, even as another face shoved itself into hers. The filly before her breathed shallowly against her nose, wild and unhinged eyes resembling a beast now more than ever. "That," the Unicorn heaved out in a heavy, shaking breath. She renewed her grip on Heather's dress, expression distorted into a monstrous snarl. "Was father's you heartless wench!" Heather felt like a ragdoll, swaying on weak, dirtied hindlegs, one hoof pathetically draped over the vice-grip holding her in place. Her brain felt shaken, thoughts racing. And her blood ran cold when the other filly let out a quiet, humorless laugh at her. "Oh, I know your type..." the Unicorn whispered breathlessly, those venomous irises burning holes into her. "Thinking you're the biggest fish in the pond. Like you can lord over everyone else without consequence. You think no one can stand up against you." Heather choked on a sound as her face was pulled in further, a breath ghosting her muzzle even hotter than before. Her panicked magenta eyes darted up to the Unicorn's horn; what was already glowing a haunting silvery-blue now crackled violently with energy, stray white sparks searing into her exposed skin. A primitive growl ripped out of the other filly, and in those ferocious eyes, Heather swore she saw bloodlust. "How's it feel to meet a bigger fucking fish?" Heather screamed. It was something raw and primitive of her own, and she thrashed in the other filly's hold to no avail. She didn't know how long that went on for, wasn't sure how much time was passing as she waited for another strike- "STAR CHIME!" A booming, commanding voice filled the space, powerful enough to tremor the ground beneath them. Her ears only then registered a number of other voices rising in volume and proximity. The rigid muscles in her neck ached when she finally turned her head just enough to see out of the corner of her eye.  So many heads were sticking out of classroom windows, no doubt stragglers from clubs that surely have ended by now. Amongst those faces, she could recognize a few teachers, and to the right... Princess Twilight and Princess Luna, with the backdoors thrown open around them. Her attacker jerked away, releasing Heather to let her fall onto her forelegs. As soon as she was released, a blur of movement rushed out from the creatures gathered behind the two Alicorns. "Heather!" The Earth Pony almost instinctively flinched away, but was immediately soothed by the familiar arms of her best friend, Amber Shine, cradling her form. It amazed her how the Pegasus filly was willingly angling her body to both support her weight and shield her if need be. Despite the protective walls surrounding her, Heather still had a clear view of the princesses. Twilight looked absolutely horrified. But clearly someone else here held the most oppressive presence and authority. Princess Luna looked upon the scene with a frigid death stare that would cut through anyone. And it was trained on one single filly. "What is this?!" Luna demanded, her deep voice rumbling the air like thunder. When she strode forward, not even Twilight dared to stay in step. She trailed behind the other princess with shock etched into her youthful features.  The Unicorn shuffled, and Heather watched Star Chime's newly distressed visage come to life. Her long tail lashed behind her like an agitated cat. "She knocked father's tome into the muck, mother!" Star shouted, eyes darting wildly from Heather to Princess Luna. The Alicorn's expression actually faltered for a second before her sharp blue eyes landed on Heather. And Heather's heart jolted in terror. 'No...no! Don't you dare ruin this for

me!' "It was an accident!" Heather wailed back, letting every ounce of emotion pour into her voice. Near-instantly, Star Chime whipped towards her with a scowl. "You LIAR!" "ENOUGH!" Star Chime's head snapped up to look at her mother, as Princess Luna now stood a mere tail length before them, dark blue wings flaring out behind her. "That does not constitute violence against a defenseless subject, Star Chime!" And as the lunar princess seared those harsh eyes into her daughter, it dawned on Heather the advantage she had. The position she was in, with her face undoubtedly swollen and appearance soiled by the assault of that horrid young princess. She was more grudgeful now than fearful, though she couldn't deny the tears of pain and prior-fear-for-her-life that had left streaks in their wake. However, there was room to play it up further. So focusing on the pain and just how overwhelmed she felt? A hiccuping, sniveling mess she became. "Y-you didn't even let me pick it up for you!" Heather sobbed out, pressing her wet cheek into her friend's warm chest. The sweet Pegasus comfortingly stroked her hair. She could just imagine the pity on Amber's brow. "You just attacked me out of nowhere! E-even after I apologized!" Murmurs. Sweet murmurs of concern and disbelief sounded from the far-off onlookers. They knew her; thoughtful, honest Heather, who got along with everyone and had a spotless record. In the face of unnecessary violence, they literally had no reason to doubt her. Besides, how was she supposed to know that garish book was from the late King? Not even the Alicorns above could claim she was lying here. "Oh Heather..." Twilight murmured compassionately, and that alone filled her to the brim with glee. Checkmate. "M-mother, please, I just..." Star Chime begged uselessly. Oh, begging suited her. Too bad she had nothing to excuse her brutishness. She lost this battle ages ago. Heather knew, because Princess Luna could only exhale deeply, her countenance a storm of emotions that the filly was honestly clueless to identify. What Heather hadn't seen coming was the sudden shift in the Moon Princess' expression from there; from rigid and grave to sheer exhaustion and sadness. "I thought we were past this..." Luna whispered, so quietly that Heather had nearly missed it. The true proof that those words were even spoken was the way Star Chime recoiled as if she had been slapped. Heather jumped as feathers slid over her back, only to realize Princess Twilight had moved forward to reassert authority. After shooting her a gentle glance, she returned her attention to the other princesses. She hesitated before opening her mouth to speak- Luna beat her to it. "I have changed my mind, Twilight." Luna began, collecting herself just as quickly as the shift had happened. "Star Chime will not be attending your school after all." Heather would have whistled were this not an inopportune time. She simply sat back and enjoyed the unfolding drama as Star Chime looked at her mother with wide, shell-shocked eyes, frantically searching Luna's face for an answer already before her.  "Mother," Star Chime's voice cracked, desperation seeping through. "No, please, let me prove myself-!" "There is nothing to prove." Luna quietly interjected. Her general demeanor was no longer of disappointment or even judgment, but somber patience of all things. "I realize now that you require more of my attention than what little I have given you...perhaps in the future you may return to Ponyville. But now is not your time." As if to make her point, Luna subtly swept her gaze across the onlookers, and Star Chime followed her line of sight. Heather had to agree, Princess Luna was practically showing her mercy. Imagine attending classes here after making a first impression like this. She'd be the talk of the halls. Every soul in Twilight's School would know of the violent princess who punched one of their top students square in the face (and Heather would absolutely make sure every ear knew of it). Little miss Star Chime was better off being pulled

out of this school before she even started. It'd give Heather less of a migraine and save her the humiliation.  Just like... "Allow me to extend my deepest apologies in place of my daughter," Luna said towards Heather, whisking away every other thought in her mind. While she began to buzz in delight, that buzz slowly died down at the unreadable expression the Moon Princess wore. She was as formal and distant as ever. Almost...scrutinizing her? Where was her sympathy? "I will be holding a very thorough discussion with her over these events, and I intend to offer reparation to you and your kin." "Heather's parents aren't here in Ponyville," Twilight finally found an opening to speak, taking on the tone of a responsible princess. "But Applejack is her guardian, so I'll be contacting her soon to pick Heather up." "Very well. I will return shortly to speak to her, then, and recompense will be sent to the family." Heather perked up when the royal addressed her once more. "I understand that you are distressed. I will be escorting Star Chime away from here, and you will have time to recover with your friends. I hope you do not mind." Heather sniffled and swiped a hoof over her face. "I don't mind...thank you, princess." Luna's attention left her too quickly for Heather's liking, focusing on the Unicorn princess instead. "Come, Star." Luna called in a hushed voice, taking her exit with grace and purpose. Heather's focus shifted to Star Chime just as the Unicorn's horn lit aglow with that very same eerie silvery blue, levitating the grimy book out of the sludge. As parts of the wet mud slipped off in thick glops, the Unicorn gave the book's cover a weak swipe of her hoof, only managing to smudge muck further into its intricate crevices. While Luna departed with the elegance and power of true royalty, Star all but dragged her hooves after her, gaze downcast and mouth pressed into a firm line. Unsurprisingly, she shot one final scorching side glance at Heather Tart through her draping bangs. It lingered until Heather left her periphery and the Unicorn could only trail after her mother like a helpless foal.

Pressing her head further into her friend's chest, Heather sneered at the filly's retreating back until she rounded the corner and out of sight. 'That's what you get, rat princess.' "Heather, are you okay? What did she even do?!" Now that the immediate threat was gone, her colt friend Arctic Bolt was charging in from the small crowd, nearly slipping a few times in his scramble over. Oh great. Heather wasn't sure if she was in the mood for the buckball star's overdone jests and witty quips at this moment. Yet she couldn't reject the amount of attention and concern she was receiving. "Gods, I think she gave you a black eye." Amber Shine fretted. The filly helped Heather sit up, but the moment she even tried to brush a hoof near the Earth Pony's left socket, Heather flinched away and grunted. "Punched me." Heather forced out through gritted teeth once Arctic had slowed to a stop before them. "Fell to the ground..." "Geez, it's like your dress took as much of a beating as you did..." Arctic muttered. And as much as she wanted to roll her eyes at his dumb remark, looking down proved that the joke was more accurate than she'd realized. Red fabric was now stained with mud and grass and stretched out past its limits by the iron grip of that wretched beast. Or maybe it didn't look so bad! MAYBE that was just her, peering at it with one eye while she held shut the one that was throbbing and bruising over. Yeah. That remuneration better come fast- "Heather, I am so sorry." Twilight's voice promptly grabbed her attention. The Alicorn mare bent her legs to meet her height, looking to her with so much guilt that one would think the perpetrator had been one of her own family. "This shouldn't have happened. Star Chime has been working hard through some of her...habits, and while she's made progress she's also very emotional at heart and then after losing her father-" This was very new and very disconcerting, watching Princess Twilight Sparkle actually fumble through her words and appear rather flustered over the situation. Heather felt her jaw clench. The two had to be pretty close for Twilight to feel this compelled to defend the girl. "That said, harm should have never come to you, especially on my premises. I just...I hope you won't hold this against her. If circumstances were different, I really think you two would have gotten along." Oh. Heather could not stop her face from screwing up at that. Twilight noticed (Heather for once hoped she did, God forbid the Friendship Princess actually tried to forcibly mend this atrocity) and her shoulders noticeably drooped. "But I completely understand if this has damaged those chances."

Twilight took in a healthy breath of air and straightened back up. While she once again spoke with calm and control, the way her ears remained pinned back was hard to miss. "Please head in and wait outside my office whenever you're ready, Heather. I'll let the nurse know to prepare an ice pack for you before I get in contact with Applejack. This'll definitely take some time, so please bear with me." Ugh. Applejack. As if her voice wasn't already annoying to listen to on a daily basis. Now the older mare was going to fuss knowing her overprotective nature and Heather wasn't looking forward to having her ear talked off on how slices of raw potato and toothpaste were the grand answer to healing her face or whatever ridiculous ideas those country bumpkins had in their screwy heads. Moving out and away from the farm life couldn't come sooner. But there were bigger things to focus on in the present. It wasn't until Twilight had walked off, exchanging words with the last few students who were being herded away by the remaining school staff, that Amber Shine voiced a question that had been on Heather's own mind. "What did she mean by...'working through habits'?" The orange Pegasus uttered slowly, eyeing the backdoors as the final student filed in after the princess. "That was way more unsettling than it had to be." "Oh...oh Gods it's all connecting..." Both Heather and Amber turned to Arctic, who was now holding his head between his hooves in what appeared to be either alarm or a headache. Ever the dramatic one. Heather would have been tempted to snap at him for obnoxiously drawing the suspense out, but thankfully Amber was faster and more patient. "Uh, mind sharing?" The Pegasus cautiously prodded, now giving her friend a hesitant glance-over. Arctic's wide blue eyes flashed back into focus and he began wildly gesturing with his hooves- "Okay listen- I have this friend in Canterlot whose cousin went to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns with this other guy, right-" "The friend of a friend's cousin." Amber repeated, and oh, Heather recognized that tone as the filly already being half-done with the conversation. Bless her. "Easy to follow. Carry on." "No, seriously listen!" Arctic hissed quietly, and for the first time since Heather had met the silver Earth Pony, he actually looked like he was being serious. "My friend told me this story about how apparently, Princess Star Chime got pulled out of school for completely thrashing that cousin's friend! Said there was blood and teeth everywhere and she beat the poor guy until he was begging on the floor!"  Heather could feel her visible eye nearly bug out of its socket. "And they tried to let someone like THAT come HERE?!" she near shrieked. Her friends were lucky that she had already spent her vocal cords not too long ago. "It IS the School of Friendship. Guess they were hoping to make her less punchy." He muttered out one of his wisecracks. Heather's head was whirling too much for her to admonish it. How close had she just come to being battered into a stain on the grass?  Wait...actually- "Okay, but why are we only just now hearing about this?" Amber, ever a kindred spirit, inquired the very same disbelief in her own mind. "The newspapers would have blown up over a royal scandal like that!" Heather agreed. And if she had possessed this knowledge just a little earlier, maybe she would have treaded just a bit more carefully. At the very least, she would have been able to figure out a way to use it to her advantage... "Well for one, it was like, two years ago... and apparently not a lot of ponies got to witness the attack. But-" Arctic leaned his head in, head whisking about in search of eavesdroppers before dropping his voice even lower. "It sounded like Celestia and Luna covered the whole thing up and made everyone involved agree to keep the information private. So most of the public has no idea what happened, but obviously whispers managed to slip through a few mouths in upper Canterlot..." "Wow..." Heather whispered. Yeah. That was probable. The princesses

had the power. And while Heather knew anyone else would have been a little frightened over the influence their rulers had, whether for the sake of a nation or for their own means...Heather herself was sort of amazed. As if she could actually blame them for going to such lengths to conceal the shame that girl would have brought to their exalted family otherwise. "But even before that!" Arctic swiftly continued. "Apparently the kids at the school were already dubbing her the 'Delinquent Princess' behind her back! My friend's cousin never knew why until...y'know." "Delinquent Princess." Amber repeated back. "What a...stupid name." 'And I think it's fitting...' Heather was tempted to add but miraculously toned her spite down. "...I mean Ithoughtitsoundedbadass- but only because I thought the whole story was just some elaborate rumor!!" Arctic threw up his hooves. "I didn't think someone from the royal family could be that crazy, yet here we are! So don't talk like it's nothing but made-up gossip after what just happened!"

"...you're not wrong." Amber muttered, and her wing pulled Heather closer into her side. The earth filly welcomed the warmth, though she didn't like the look of discomfort on her friend's face. "In other words, we're talking about violent habits. And from a princess of Equestria...that's awful." "Yep. She is. But let's stop talking about her for now" Heather muttered, feeling both sets of eyes fall on her. The more she heard, the more that resentment deep within her grew. And the more that grew, the more her temples ached beyond the limits of what she was willing to deal with. "I think I'd like that ice pack right about now." "Oh crap, right!" Arctic jumped, urgently motioning for the fillies to walk ahead while he kept the rear. "Got a little carried away. We'll stick around until Twilight gets back!" "Yeah. Twilight did say it'd take a while." With a comforting smile, Amber Shine squeezed Heather's shoulder with her wing feathers. "I say it a million times, but just as a reminder; we've got you, girl." And she appreciated the encouragement. She really did. But Heather found it incredibly hard to muster more than a ghost of a smile when she found her legs on autopilot while her mind was elsewhere. 'Stop talking about her" she'd said. Yet she couldn't even bring her own brain to shut up. When it came to the very thought of that Unicorn princess, ugly green thorns never stopped digging their way into her ribcage. But after today... Heather's inner snarl rang with unconcealed bitterness, louder than ever before. 'How? How does someone like her get to be a princess?'

_________________________________________

Officially introducing Star Chime! Daughter of Luna, sister of Prince Amadeus, and youngest royal of the five royal Equestrian children (Princess Flurry Heart, Princess Lumina, Prince Amadeus, Prince Nova Spark, and Princess Star Chime, in that order)! Though by youngest, she's probably a year or two younger than Nova Spark.

I'm excited that she's ready to officially be a part of the cast!! I've considered her and Dream Flow the future main protagonists of present-day story. One day she'll meet her partner in crime. One day...

Also, very fun to write a chapter exploring Heather's psyche! In no way am I advocating for violence against misbehaving kids, by the way. I know people will see this as Heather "getting what she deserves" - and wanting to see karma get her is valid - but just know the purpose of this chapter wasn't me trying to take pleasure in physically "punishing" this kid, back when she was a youth with very misguided values. Just wanted that to be clear!

My Daily- Part 2

Pairings- Thomas Shelby x female!

Word count- 1,744

Warnings- The tiniest bit of angst you’ve ever seen in you life, the Shelby/Grey family not really liking you, a little pic tommy, fluff, etc. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N- Thank you to @hinagiku0 for requesting this and I’m soooooo sorry this took so long. I really hope you enjoy!!

(I’m too lazy to find a gif so use your imagination, thanking you)

A few days had passed and your dream had come to an end. You were hoping that when you got back to arrow house you’d be able to enjoy the feeling of being engaged for little bit longer before it was ruined, but, of course, your further in-laws were there, waiting for you and Tommy. You sighed, knowing that they weren’t here to be friendly to you.

“What’re you lot doing here?” Tommy asked the second we were in front of them.

“You just disappeared, Thomas. Where were you?” Polly asked. Her eyes flickered to you for a moment, disgust filled them. You tighter your grip on Charlie’s hands ever-so-slightly.

“I went travel with my son and my fiancé, Pol. I made sure the business would run smoothly, I don’t see-“

“Your what?!”

“My fiancé; my future wife.” Tommy’s voice was filled with pride as he spoke up you.

“Tom,” Arthur began. “She’s with you for your money, brother, are you blind?” Arthur, unlike Polly, didn’t sound angry, he sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit!” Tommy exclaimed, exasperated with this whole ordeal. “(Y/N) will be my wife; she’ll be our family, and you lot have to learn to live with that. She’s not with me for my money, for fuck sake!” Tommy’s shouting must’ve scared Charlie because he started wailing. Polly went towards him, but he turned around and grabbed on to your leg.

“Mummy, why’s daddy angry?” He cried. No missed what Charlie had called you and, even though you saw him as your own, you knew you had to correct him. You pried him away from your legs, crouched down to his level and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Sweetheart, I love you, but you know I’m not your mummy,” you said as softly as you could. “But, I love you so so much, okay? And I know your mummy loves you too.” He threw himself into your arms and you didn’t hesitate to hug him back.

“Why’s daddy angry?” He asked again.

“Daddy’s not angry at you, sweetheart. It’s grown up stuff, and I know that’s annoying to hear, but I’ll tell you when I’m older.”

“Promise?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes on the back of his tiny hands.

“I promise, baby,” You cooed, placing a kiss on his head. “Come on, love, you’ve got violin practice,” You spoke softly, taking ahold of Charlie’s little hand and leading him into the house, sending Tommy a small smile as you did.

You were sitting listening to Charlie play the violin when Tommy called a family meeting, and, since you were going to be his wife, he invited you along.

“(Y/N), took you long enough, eh?” Tommy said, he sounded slightly annoyed.

“Sorry, I was busy supporting your son,” You bit back. “Why am I here, Tommy?”

“Because we’re going to deal with this situation-“ He gestured between you and his family. “-because I’m sick of this.”

“We’re just looking out for you, Thomas; she’s using you,” Polly spoke softly.

“Tom,” You sighed. “I’ll just sign a prenup, problem solved!” You exclaimed in mock celebration. “So, can I go now?”

“No, no you’re not signing a prenuptial agreement.”

“Wh-what?” You stammered, looking at Tommy like he was an alien.

“If I die, I’m not leaving you with nothing.” He stood his ground. You looked around the room and, for once, it seemed like Polly agreed with you.

“I can look after myself, Tom. I was doing fine before we got together!” You spat.

“Yeah, you were working for me.”

“I had a job before I worked here. I left that job to work here, I didn’t need to work here.” You rolled your eyes. Did he really think you’d perish without his money? “For fuck sake, Tom, I don’t need nor do I want your fucking money!” You shouted, his family believed you only wanted his money, did Tommy believe that too?

“You don’t want it, no? Then why do you let me buy you all those expensive dresses and jewellery? Eh? Tell me that, (Y/N),” He replied, his face was still stone-cold, as always, but you could hear him getting pissed off.

“Because they’re fucking gifts, Tom! I don’t like expensive dresses and jewellery, but I wear them for you! You fucking idiot, Tom,” You sighed, exasperated. “I hate having to be posh and proper, but I do it for you.” You looked at the floor, not wanting to meet Tommy’s gaze.

“Why?” He asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do it if you hate it?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because I love you, Tommy,” You spoke softly, walking towards him. As you stood in front of him, you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I love you, Tommy, I’ve never been ‘proper’ and I don’t like it, but I’ll do it for you.” He placed his hands on top of yours.

“You don’t have to be ‘proper’, love. I fell in love with you before you started acting ‘proper’, didn’t I?” His soft voice flowed gently into your eyes, his slight chuckle at the end painting a smile onto your face.

“Tommy, can we going travelling again soon?” You whispered, feeling guilty for a reason you couldn’t determine.

“You wanna do it again?” He tried to hide it, but you could hear the slight confusion in his voice.

“Yeah... It was fun.” You shrugged, looking at your shoes bashfully.

“Okay,” He chuckled slightly, and god did you love that sound. “Okay, we can go travelling again, not sure when but we will.”

“Yay!” You squeaked. “Charlie‘ll be so excited.” You smiled at him.

“I think he just wants to see you try and ride a horse again.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t that bad,” You laughed, playfully hitting his arm. Tommy placed his hands on either side of your face, slowly bringing his lips to yours, dancing gently together.

“I can’t wait to marry you, love,” He whispered as the dance ended.

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait, Tom, because I’ve got a lot of planning to do,” You giggled, he smiled down at you, pecking lips yours once more before turning to address his family once again.

“(Y/N) and I are getting married, and that’s that. So, suck it up and deal with it, yeah?” He wasn’t really asking so much as telling. No one said anything, they still didn’t trust you, but no one had seen him like that since before Grace died and it’s always easier to be around Tommy when he’s happy.

*

“Just breath, (Y/N), it’s gonna be fine,” Mary said from behind you.

“Correction- it’ll be perfect,” Sarah encouraged as she finished your makeup, a bright smile painting her face.

The Ivory a-line you’d dreamt of since you were a girl was on. Your hair was styled perfectly, thanks to Mary, and your makeup was perfect, thanks to Sarah. Your perfect groom awaited you. You took a deep breath, stood up and said: “Okay. I’m ready,” You enthused. “Let’s do this.”

You walked down the isle, nerves eating away at you. Kicking your dress forward slightly with every step you took towards Tommy.

“Hi,” You whispered as you stood in front of your future husband.

“Hello. You look breathtaking, my love,” He whispered back. Your exchange of whispered words was halted as Jeremiah began to speak.

“We are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to celebrate to coming together Thomas Michael Shelby and (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N).” Jeremiah spoke clearly and loudly, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the church. As Jeremiah continued, your eyes never let Thomas. His crystalline eyes staring into mine, a smile plastered onto his face.

“Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, through sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

“And do you, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), take Thomas Michael Shelby to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to, through sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Then, with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” Jeremiah exclaimed happily. Thomas wasted no time, placing his hands on either side of face and planting his lips on yours. Cheers and applause were heard behind you. When the two of you finally broke the kiss, Tommy smiled at you while you chuckled nervously. Tommy was the one to grab your hand and pull you back up the isle. Outside a photographer waited, ready to snap some pictures to remember the day by.

*

After a long, loud, party, you, Thomas, and the rest of the Shelby/Grey clan headed back to Arrow house. You gave tommy a quick, but loving, peck on the cheek and headed upstairs to get changed. You took the dress of and carefully hung it up. After you dresses in some more comfortable clothes, you couldn’t help but stare and the dress. How could this have happened to me? You pondered. Married to the love of my life(even if his family hated me) all because I got a job. You smiled to yourself as Mary opened the door, an excitable Charlie in her arms.

“Miss (Y/L/N)- I-I mean Mrs Shelby,” Mary said, quickly correcting herself. “Charlie wanted to see you, I can look after him if you want?”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Mary. You should get some sleep, I know he can be a handful sometimes,” you giggled, taking Charlie into your arms. She smiled back at you.

“Thank you, Mrs Shelby. Good night.” She politely left the room, closing the door behind her. You sat on the bed, making silly faces as Charlie laughed. Soon though, Polly appeared. She opened the door silently so you didn’t notice her. A slight smile graced her face as she saw you with her great-nephew.

She sat next to you, but didn’t say a yo thing as you looked at her. Suddenly, her hand slide over your stomach.

She smiled slightly. “You’re good with him. I hope you’ll be just as good with this one.” She looked at her hand on your stomach, your eyes widened as you realised what she was implying. She gave you a knowing smirk as she left the room. Gently, you placed Charlie on the bed, one hand still holding him as the other went to your stomach.

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@the-makingsofgreatness

“It felt like ‘Let's go as far as we can go’. Maybe this was the biggest chance we would ever get. That was the kind of things I talked with the members. At that moment, we prepared ourselves for the worst.”

Notes before reading: This is from Kaoru’s first book “Dokugen” released on October 2015 in which his articles from “Ongaku to hito” magazine were compiled, but also an exclusive interview about his life was included. I already posted the first part of this interview (Pages 62-75 if you own the book) so for Kaoru’s birthday, I wanted to share the second part of the interview (Pages 130-143). In the first part, the interview covered his childhood to his first steps in the music scene and bands. This part covers from CHARM’s  disbandment to Dir en grey’s  and solo activities. ---- -Is CHARM a band that was formed by classmates? K: Well, there was one classmate and me, the rest were older. If I remember correctly, they were 3 years older? Even though they were the best guitar players among the members, as I wanted to play guitar myself,I told them one of them “play the bass” (laughs). That person and the other guitarist are siblings Originally, the brother and me were good friends so it was him who told me to form a band. It was like “There is no point in keeping (the band) at local level, I want to do a band that will be a stepping stone for the time being”, “If we don’t go out, we won’t make personal connections”. -“Let's get out of Hyogo” K: That's right. Anyway, the purpose of starting this band was to "get out". There was a live house in the local area, and there were some bands that released CDs from amateurs to indies, but the bands that were popular in the local area at that time were bands that wore long-sleeve T-shirts, slim denim pants and rubber soles shoes. There were many people like that in the local studio. There weren’t many bands like us….with long dyed hair…..That’s why I the person who worked part-time at the rental CD shop was super metal and I thought “There are real bandman in this city!”. There weren’t people like that. -You couldn’t make connections with people like you. K: That's right. I rarely meet people like that in my hometown. In order to sell/promote myself, I have to go out first. That's how the band started. -What do you think  that was the best thing you did when you were in the band at that time? K: Doing my best?......what could be? (laughs) Maybe I don't have a feeling of "doing my best", or I don't think I was conscious of "doing my best" for the band. Besides playing the guitar and arranging the songs, I did several things such as miscellaneous work and making flyers but I didn’t do it with the consciousness of "doing my best", I did it anyway. -It was only for fun. K: I think so. It felt like I was making song while playing around, the members also were relaxed. Someone would go home and listen to some CD and say “let’s do something like that”, others would be reading magazines or watching tv next to them. Everyone gathered after work,from 8pm to 11pm, so it was like using that time to be together having fun. -In the series you wrote for “Ongaku to hito”,  you mentioned that you were doing various part-time jobs at this time. K: I was. Sometimes I worked hard/plentifully, and sometimes I only worked for 15 minutes a day -What is a 15-minute job a day? .K: A part-time job that was just going to a pet store when it was closing and put the bird cages or the hamster basket in front of the store, inside the store. The hourly wage was about 1500 yen, but it only took 15 minutes. On the contrary, I also worked part-time for 12 hours. I had a lot of  jobs, I don’t know if I was skilful or I was good at dealing with things but I looked like a competent guy. After a while, my salary went up and my position went up. -Did you want to become a full-time employee?   K: That wasn’t the case. After all, I was doing it while thinking, “I’m in this place now, but I’m a man who won’t end up in a place like this”.  I think I had a strong consciousness like “I’m working in this now for the band”. However, my parents told me every day, “What are you doing?” (laughs). -What did you answer to that? K: “No, it’s ok”. I didn't borrow money from my parents, so I didn't bother them. -Around this time, there was The Great Hanshin Earthquake. I'm sure you were at your part-time job when the earthquake happened. K: That's right. It happened when I was working part-time at a glass factory. It was shaking around, but that always happened when a crane truck passed so I was like “is that it?”. I thought it was different from other times. When I thought about going home, the train stopped, and the ground was also cracked. On the contrary, it was like being in a scene that didn’t seem to be a real.  However, the inside of my house was messed up, but it was okay. The impact of the earthquake affected many places. Many people quit bands because of that. It was just around the time I started playing at a live houses, so I was able to get acquainted not only with the locals but also with a wide range of people, so I thought “this is terrible”. -What was a thing that you could do for the first time with CHARM? K: I think it was a demo tape. I made it for the first time, so I was happy.  A few years ago, I found it at my parent’s home, I brought it here and listened to it….  Surprisingly, the song wasn’t bad. The lyrics were horrible though (laughs). -But CHARM's activities ended in a little over a year. K: Well, weren’t we playing for a year?  I think that maybe there was a difference in the degree of enthusiasm between the other members and me. It was like there was a wall built between me and the other members. They would talk about giving up and I was like “should we?”. However, after disbanding, the other members except me formed a band together, so I was like “Oh, so it was my fault”. Whether the demo tape sold 3000 copies, or the live movements increased, I didn't have money anyway. The more I moved, the less money I had, so I was worried. It was like “Can I do this?”. -What did you do next after the disbandment was decided? K:  I was thinking about going to various live shows and look for members, when I was thinking about doing something like that, KISAKI suddenly called me. He told me “Can you join us as the guitarist is leaving?”. -It was La: Sadie's, a band formed by KISAKI. K: He wasn’t a proper acquaintance, I just greeted him at a live house somewhere so, I should say that he kind of got suddenly in touch with me? -Why was that? K: At that time, there was the word “soft visual kei”. The thing is, there weren’t bands that looked flashy/showy and cool like that. There weren’t many guys that wearing a suit and looking stylish were heavy/ extreme. That’s why, I heard that there weren’t many people who looked flashy like me. -That’s why he had his eyes on you. K: Maybe. I hadn’t seen a live show of them, but there were La:Sadie’s posters on every live house at that time. Also, even though he didn’t see our live performance over there, he just saw the flyer and contacted me (laughs). -So, for now, you went to see them playing live. K: It's the day after (CHARM) disbanded. I didn’t know how they sounded like, but when I watched them performing live, it was the type (of band) I really liked. There was no reason to turn down the offer and in a selfish way I thought “In order to join this band, the previous disband had to happen”.  And I decided to join them. -When it comes to members, you can say that this band was the predecessor band of DIR EN GREY, but what was your impression of them at that time? K: It's still the same, but (my first impression was) they weren’t that good at socializing (laughs). At first it was an exploration. It was like “What should I do when I enter the studio?”. But when I went it, it was like “Eh….is it like this?”. I mean, the song writing was the same as in my previous band but there weren’t many parts to arrange.  If you could make a song to some extent, it would end there. I remember there weren’t many exchanges between us like, “I want to make this rhythm here” or “Let’s take a break”.  It was done exactly what the composer has done in the studio. Well, it wasn’t interesting. -Then, you came up with various ideas. K: That's right. Even at CHARM, I was just arranging rather than writing songs. - After joining under the name of KAORU, the band's recognition has even more. K: About two months after I joined, we first appeared on the monochrome page of "SHOXX". Everyone was happy at that time. Until then, even if the band name was listed in “Pia” and appeared in live house’s information places, it was like "Oh, we appeared in a national magazine!" (Laughs). From there, we advertised ourselves to sell our name, and we did various things. -How was the planning and mobilization (people who came to the concerts) of live performances compared to the previous band? K: When I was invited (to join the band,), it was a band that had already mobilized more than 100 people, so it's completely different. I remember being so excited to be able to play  in front of a lot of people, it was like “This is it!”. I finally got the feeling that I was on the start line. -Did you feel like you could make it as a professional? K: That wasn't the case. After all, no matter if 3000 tapes were sold or the people attending the lives increased, I didn't have the money anyway. Of course, there was some profit, but there was more money being spent. So, my anxiety/insecurity may had been bit.  Like  "Can I do it in these conditions?". -You were still working part-time as usual? K: Of course. Because when I joined, I was like “As we are going on a tour now, how much should I prepare for many days”. There were many talks about money. It was a band only could play  a certain number of lives . I think we played lives about one-third of the year. Even so, I feel hopeless as I didn’t make money working and writing songs. I couldn't afford to think about the future at all. It's the same for the other members, and  I felt like "I wonder if this will end someday." There were many people who said "I might not be able to play for a while”. - By the way, how did you feel as a guitarist at that time? In terms of style and playing. K: It was just like playing with a heavy sound and shaking your head (laughs). The guitar solo….it's about playing a little phrase. I'm not very interested in it now or in the past. -Are you not interested in guitar solo? K: No, I like listening to them. But I don't really want to play them myself…..it’s like, when a solo is being played I don’t feel like “Hey, I want to copy this!”…. More than that, I like when the high-volume sounds get muted (laughs). The feeling is better when I’m playing the riff like *makes the beat sounds* -I'd like to ask you about bands you liked besides X at that time. Around that time, you started listening to NIN INCH NAILS and other overseas bands. K: That's right. I also liked The Smashing Pumpkins and I went to see their live performances. Around that time, I started listening more to foreign bands than Japanese bands. From Japan, I usually listened to LADIES ROOM and Extasy Records bands (Japanese label formed in April 1986 by Yoshiki). -Was COLOR among these bands (You listened to)? K: COLOR is also included. Once around that time, I got invited  by a roadie of a band that was in Free-will but I thought “Free-will is scary” (laughs). I've heard rumours about TOMMY (DYNAMITE TOMMY / COLOR vocalist, founder of Free-will, DIR EN GREY’s label). He is a senpai originally from my hometown. I've never met him there, but I heard a lot about him (laughs). Later, I got to know about COLOR, and I knew that was TOMMY in the band. - And La: Sadie ’s would be over in less than a year. K: That's right. I talked with each member like "What should we do next?" When we realized, it was like the four of us like “Do you want to do a band the four of us together?”. “The feeling of "let's go as far as we can go" Maybe this was the biggest chance we would have. That was the kind of thing I talked with the members. At that moment, we prepared ourselves for the worst.” -Was it like “going with the flow”? K: We weren’t friends like everyone would go drinking together or so, it’s a relationship more like neither too close to nor too distant since that time. There were invitations from other people (bands) to join them, but at that time there wasn’t a band like us, fierce and distant. I think it was a bit like “Let’s do it together” because there wasn’t any other place. There was no other band that I wanted to play music together. From our point of view, there were some questions like “Should the band be more intense/fierce?” and also, that it must be a visually interesting band. - From there, DIR EN GREY started. K: I think we talked about how me wanted to make a band more expansive than La:Sadie’s. But the fierce part was more extreme. Perhaps it was because I was thinking of becoming a band that no one had ever seen, and that made me feel like "we are  definitely doing it!" -Was TOMMY involved since the beginning? K: TOMMY will appear later. But it seems that he has his eyes on us since La:Sadie’s.  At that time, TOMMY was already in charge of bands and took care of them but at that time the chance didn’t come out. But when we were going to disband….. I was told this later but it seems that TOMMY said “I’m going to get a hold of every band that these five people do (laughs)” -By the way, how was your first encounter with TOMMY? K: The person who took care of us at that time said, "TOMMY wants to meet you." "What’s that? Did we do something wrong?" (Laughs).  That’s why I was nervously waiting at TOMMY’s apartment. Speaking of him, I had this image of him wearing a floral coat, a gauze shirt, leather pants  and long boots, and when he came out wearing leather pants and long boots I was like “Wow! It’s true!” (laughs) -That's scary (laughs). K: So when I told him “Thank you so much for inviting me”,  he told me “Keep doing your best”….I was like “Eh?”. I just met him for a while, I didn’t understand at all why did he invite me. He just told me “Take care on your way home”. After that, I came out of Tokyo, and when I started a band here, I already wrote about it in the “Ongaku to hito” series but, it was decided that we recorded immediately. -At a mobile home? K: We made the songs there. We recorded and played lives in Tokyo. Then, we had more and more chances to talk and discuss with TOMMY about the details of the live performances. The next moment, it was decided that we enter  Free-will. -The situation changed since that moment. K: That's right. Under these circumstances I could concentrate on playing in a band and from that time on, producers gradually started to do their part…..Talking about a major debut become something more solid, so we were getting to go  as far as we could. For the next lives, it's was like going up the stairs, step by step. Until then, I was just rushing with the flow, but I started thinking about variations of the songs, the venues for the lives became bigger, so we thought about stage development….. I started to write songs considering the singles, like “let’s make a song like this”. - At that time, did you have any dreams or goals that you all shared as a band? K: (A goal/dream) shared with the members .. .. maybe there wasn’t anything concrete. We were trying our best to keep up with the situation. I personally wanted to make an album. -Something like “We’ll play at Budokan!”? K: I don't think there was. Of course, I thought it would be great if I could play there, but more than that, the members were excited about things like "What about the PV of the next song?" . -You talked about playing a live at Budokan before your debut, but was there anything that you feel couldn’t keep up with because of how fast  things were going? K: I was worried. It was like “Is it ok,can we do this?”, But when DIR started I prepared myself for the worst, it was like “let’s go as far as we can go”. After all, when we were told to come to Tokyo after the band started, I was thinking, “Let’s do this without rushing”. La: Sadie's was just hectic, “Shouldn’t it be better to solidify the base here before going to Tokyo?”, “But maybe this is the biggest chance we are going to have?”, that was what we talked about. “If we don’t go to Tokyo this time, there might not be another chance anymore”. I talked with the members if we should prepare ourselves for any circumstance  and accept it or not. And we decided to do it. -Like, don't miss your biggest chance. K: Yes. Also, at that, we weren’t competing against other bands, as there was almost no relationship or interaction with other bands. There was this feeling that everything that wasn’t us was an enemy. It might feel like “We are not going to lose to any other guys, we are going ahead”. - So, the band made their major debut, but in less than a year you were back indie. How did you feel at this time? K: TOMMY suggested to do what we could do from that moment on. To be honest, at first I couldn’t keep up with that idea. I was like “Why did we come this far?”. -It’s natural to feel like that. K: So TOMMY asked me, "Would you like to do a band where an old man, president of the record company,  tell you to make a song like this?". So when I said “No, I don’t want to do that”, he said “Then, to do what we want to do, let’s protect ourselves”. That’s why while I said “That’s right” I was wondering if we could do this alone. But if we had done it as a major, the band might not have been like it is now. Maybe it would be more commercial, a band that didn’t make songs as a main thing.  That’s why  at that time I was grateful to TOMMY and I don't think he was wrong. - It was  hard to get into the  several hardships  of doing a band from that moment, wasn’t it? K: That's right. It's still the case now, but to tell the truth, I didn’t really have the consciousness of playing music. The feeling of "doing a band" was stronger than the sound. Even if things were hard, it felt like "We are a band". At some point, I wonder if we were chasing a longing/aspiration somewhere. But from that moment on, I think I started thinking, "Let's make a band where we can express ourselves, something that only we can do." -Was the band activity difficult after that? K: It was hard (laughs). From that time on, it was really hard to write songs, I couldn’t make songs anyway.  As I always say, I’m not the type of person that can immediately shape the sound that comes out. I’ll play what I’ve made while thinking “Is this really good?”.  If my guitar skills were better, it might had been possible to shape it in a cool way, but it wasn’t the case. It seems that you can't compete with your own guitar. That’s why I couldn’t intertwined everything, the rhythm, riffs, and melody in a cool way. -In other words, you have to make a song while imagining the whole result. K: But isn’t that the most uncertain part?  Don’t you do it without knowing what each member is going to play? Perhaps, the biggest thing is that I'm not confident in myself. It’s like I came to this point only with heavy work (laughs) - Well then, you've made many albums with that. K: Right? (laughs) But….. I think I can only make it that way. -What was the first album that made you think "I was able to do it!" K: After all…..it's "MACABRE" (released in 2000). I felt like "I made it!" Before this one, "GAUZE" (released in 1999) contained 5 singles, so I had a strong sense of filling the gaps, but "MACABRE" has a strong sense of creating one album. Also, from that point on, not only the songs but also the consciousness of the sounds changed. The sound became very hard. -Have you ever thought about leaving the band? K:…….. Yes. Yes, there are always moments like that. But it’s  not like "let's quit" but more like "want to escape". Even now, I often feel like giving up while writing songs, I feel like "I can't do it anymore". -Still, what keeps you in the band is…. K: It’s a strange way to say it, but it’s like while I’m thinking about that, there is a part of me saying, “Will you do it?”. There is another me. This one always says "Please do your best!" and the other is like "Yes, I'll do it" (laughs). In other words, everything is up to you. Another self inspires the part of  me who is about to give up. It's like that. -What do you think about bands that have disbanded? K: I think it's a waste. It’s like “Why are you quitting?”. I haven't quit, so I don't know how I would feel about quitting.So, if I quit the band, it would really end there. “Let’s do a comeback”, but after all, it’s over. So, no matter how hard I think it is, I don't want to say, "It’s over".  Because it’s like "If you say it's over, it's all over". -Now, I asked you to look back on your half-life as a bandman so far. What about the future? K: That's right.  It’s like…. There are times I think it's not interesting anymore. It’s not interesting so I’m like "I think I can explore more" and things like that, but I get back on the rails before I knew it.  It’s like “If you don’t do it with all your heart, in the end it’s going to be a band that is just active”. The more you continue, the more troubles you will have. Constantly I'm thinking about what if we can’t go ahead, but we also value our own personality, that's why you just can't do the same thing.  -I feel like you are always looking for something. K: I always think about "something more". I get worried because it doesn't come out though. But the fact that the band can still do it, it’s is there. If I think “Well, someday”,  I think I’d be lost. -At this point, the members are making moves with solo activities. K: After all, there are things they can’t do with DIR EN GREY, so I think they are doing it elsewhere. So, when I think about it, in my case, there's nothing I can't do with DIR EN GREY. After all,  even if it is just once, before I die I have to try to make my own album, but what I want to do now can be done with DIR EN GREY. Of course, I also want to know my limits and possibilities, so I'd like to try making a work by myself someday. It's a personal goal. -You could say that this book is the first result of your solo work. K: Yes. It’s a strange way of saying it, but it feels good the first thing I put out by myself was a  book. It’s like really relaxing…..you can do it without putting too much effort.  Of course, this is the first time I've made a book, so I wonder if I should just put what I want to do into it. If this were a about making one album, I would think about various things like "I'm doing this song with DIR, I'm sorry". I don't have that kind of annoyance, and I can do what I want to do within myself. Also,  (expressing myself) in words like this……it's a bit exaggerated to say it in this way, but I think I had a lot of things I wanted to convey in words. I also realized that.

Stitch Your Ragged Wings and Hope to Soar.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 1, Day 5: Fairytales} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

| The folk tales always speak of those destined for greatness. Heroes alongside their faithful dragons, fighting the ever turning tides against evil. But they're just that, folk tales. After all, what are the chances a border-town apprentice seamstress like Marinette, would ever be offered a different vocation by the recruitment guild. |

| Word Count: 3,428. |

| Warnings/Tags: Kingdom/Fantasy/No Miraculous/Dragon Riders Au, Minor Lila & Adrien salt, Canon Typical lies and manipulation from Lila, Explicit Language/Swearing, and Some Fluff. |

———

| A/N: First things first, the word 'Dragoon' will be used multiple times in this piece and it is spelled that way on purpose (see end notes for further explanation). Secondly, yep! It's a dragon riding/academy au. This is the first piece of the series, which I'm really excited for because I've spent ages worldbuilding for! And for anyone worried about salt mention, it is addressed in this piece but the tag is there because of canon-typical Lila manipulation and lies, plus no Miraculous means no reason for Adrien with his sheltered upbringing to realise she's lying. |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's been a few days of tense stagecoach travel. And to be fair to Marinette, even she hadn't expected to be declared in the middle of the town square as showing aptitude for a position within the Justice League's armée volante—specifically the dragoon squadrons—thanks to the recruitment guild no less.

Unfortunately, Adrien and Lila had also shown an aptitude. Which, seeing as they all come from the same border-town of Paris, meant they were all trapped inside the same cramped coach space for the excruciating four days journey to reach Gotham Town; the place where they are being sent to attend the dragoon academy, which is technically outside the bounds of the town proper. Seeing as the Gotham Dragoon Academy and Somerset Dragon Range are on the opposite shores of the Gotham river to the town itself.

There's only another half-day until they reach the Mooney bridge and then the Somerset

Dragon Ranges. And luckily, Adrien and Lila have taken to sitting on the same bench, the one facing forwards. Leaving the opposite bench all for Marinette.

Not that having a whole bench to myself for this time will help with whether I can continue to survive as a captive audience for Lila. Marinette thinks to herself, rather disgruntled about this whole situation she's unwillingly ended up in. She was perfectly happily remaining an apprentice seamstress, sewing commissions for Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and the rest of her famous or otherwise clientele, not that fate seemed to care though. Of course, a part of her stipulation she fought the recruiters for, is that along with her studies she can continue her commissions for current and prior clientele alone. Which is to say, better than being completely unable to continue her main hobby and form of stress relief.

The recruiters had also said that baking and cooking would be no problem to practice, as apparently there'll be free reign to "student kitchens" alongside cooking classes so any use of either skill will be "undoubtedly encouraged". Dangerous words, Marinette muses to herself once more, because if I get claimed by a dragon the first thing I'm doing is baking all the dragon dietary-safe treats I can!

“Marinette! What do you think?” Lila asks, voice as cloying as ever.

Marinette startles and half-heartedly smiles awkwardly across at her, “ah, I'm really sorry Lila! I got distracted wondering what kind all of our dragons might end up being and how they might look!” Not, I'm going to love mine regardless of appearance unlike you.

Smiling faux-sweetly, Lila shakes her head. “Don't worry Marinette, I was only saying how we're just like those local fairytales of your town! Three close-knit friends who become powerful and famous dragoon guardians and save the world from the evil destruction of Hawkmoth and his army of shadow dragons! Out of the three of us, I would be our leader, obviously. Since I'm the only one here descended from a dragoon guardian! My grandmother even gave me a token that once belonged to my dragoon guardian ancestor!”

“Wow, you've said it before but I still can't believe how incredible you are Lila! It's going to be amazing training besides you at the academy!” Adrien gushes, gazing at Lila with adoration.

Lila preens at his words. “Thank you, Adrien! But Marinette, since you mentioned what our dragons will be, did you know my ancestor's dragon was said to be the most beautiful of all the dragons in the Justice League squadrons! My ancestor's dragon had orange scales that glimmered red and yellow like flames, and pearlescent white scales along the underbelly. Oh, and the horns were pearlescent white too! Obviously, the dragon I'll get is sure to be a descendant of that dragon and just as beautiful.”

“Wow, no wonder your ancestor's dragon was the most beautiful, they sound absolutely gorgeous! What kind of dragon do you think I'll get, Lila?” Adrien asks, eyes shining with awe and curiosity.

She puts on a show of holding her chin and humming. “Hmm, probably a golden dragon, with shiny scales as bright as the sun!”

“I hope you're right!” Adrien chuckles, “the fairy tales really would be coming true if we both get the dragons you think we will! One with scales of fire, another with scales of gold!”

“It really would.” Marinette echoes weakly, not really believing in her own words.

Lila laughs, “awww don't sound so worried Marinette, your dragon will probably be a plain and drab dragon with some sort of shade of brown, or maybe even grey. But at least it won't be attention-grabbing. So you won't need to worry about people staring and judging or dragons-forbid trying to hurt you for having a prettier dragon than any nobles!”

Marinette smiles, though it turns out far more grimace-like than intended, whoops. “Yeah… that'd be awful. Haha, I'd be really lucky to get a dragon like you described for me, Lila.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you understand, Marinette! Then again, all three of us are besties so of course you'd understand!” Lila titters, crossing her fingers, “we're just like this!”

Screaming internally, Marinette nods and keeps smiling. Dragons-almighty, I'm at the end of my thread here. Hopefully, I'll be able to leave Lila's "friendship" behind at the academy without fear of mine and my parent's reputations being ruined by Lila's mother.

Her attention is briefly taken by the rolling view outside the stagecoach, unable to help herself she mumbles to herself, “the landscape here is so pretty.”

“It is pretty I guess, but not as pretty as my home country!” Lila pipes up, jumping on the new conversation—like a shadow dragon on a sheep.

Marinette shuts her eyes for a second and breathes deeply, chanting internally. The academy will be my fresh start.

———

The academy is not in fact Marinette's fresh start.

It is well past evenfall by the time their stagecoach passes through the gates of the imposing academy. It rounds a large fountain in the centre of the courtyard with a statue of a person encircled by a large dragon. However, due to the darkness and the movements of the stagecoach, any attempts at recognising whom the statue was dedicated after are thoroughly hampered. They roll to a stop before the great stone staircase—where a figure with a smaller giant rat-like creature beside them, is waiting at the top—which clearly leads to the grand front doors of the academy.

Even with the darkness obscuring the view, it's obvious that the academy is a repurposed castle. High stone walls with crenellations and littered towers, a main keep with a multitude of buildings surrounding the inner courtyard. And the most eye-catching of all, the shadowy draconic gargoyles that seem to cling and lurk upon every building.

It's impressive to say the least, certainly the most well-fortified building Marinette has ever stepped foot in her life. Impressive enough that it has her practically clawing to pull out a sketching journal and start creating. However, she's not stupid enough to do that within Lila's presence. No, that'd undoubtedly lead to honey-coated lies and being forced to listen to her prattle on about her wondrous skills and connections to the most prestigious fashion guild in the country.

Marinette startles as the stagecoach door is opened by a footman. She doesn't fuss as Lila exits first, followed by Adrien. As she steps outside last, she nods and smiles at the footman. Whispering as audibly as she can without the other two hearing, she adds, “thank you, sir.”

The footman simply glances at her attire and nods back stiffly.

In the time it's taken to all leave the stagecoach, the figure from the stairs has walked over—a woman with long blonde hair dressed in a casual black leather riding coat, and a not-dog following behind loyally. “Good evening, you must be the potential students from the town of Paris?”

Marinette hesitates for a second before nodding along with Adrien and Lila.

Lila takes a step forwards, towards the woman. “Yes, we are! I'm Lila Rossi.”

The woman nods slowly, “and the other two must be Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, correct?”

“That's correct!” Adrien responds with a bright smile.

Marinette nods and makes an affirmative squeak instead.

“Great.” The woman says, clapping her hands. “I'm Dinah Lance and I'll be one of your instructors during your attendance here. And this,” She pauses to point to the weird giant not-rat with its yellow flecked greyish-brown fur, “is Drake, he's my Ichneumon. You'll learn all about Ichneumon and why they're used within the dragoon squadron during your time here, so don't worry if you've never heard or seen of them before.”

Drake makes a high pitched trill and takes a few steps forward, sniffing the air in front of the three of them. Before scampering in a circle around Dinah Lance.

She smiles fondly at Drake before continuing. “Unfortunately it's a little late to give you the tour of the grounds now, so we'll cover that tomorrow. Tonight we'll guide you to the dining hall for a late night's meal since it's been a long journey for you three or so I've heard, and you must be starving. Then we'll discuss the main details of your attendance, and afterwards, we will show you to the temporary rooms you will be staying in, to begin with. Any questions?”

Lila rocks on the heels of her boots before shaking her head, “no, we've got no questions!”

Adrien copies with a shake of his head too.

Marinette opens her mouth to protest, were you waiting out in the cold for us long? Will the tour teach us about the different places within the academy? Will it take long? What do you mean by the main details? Why are we staying in temporary rooms to begin with? When do our lessons start? Do we need to purchase any uniforms or schooling supplies? When will we meet our dragons? Questions bubbling in her mind like a kettle over the fire, but closes her mouth just as quickly, as she catches a glare from Lila out of the corner of her eye. With that, she also briefly and nervously shakes her head. “N–no, no questions here either, Mlle Lance.”

Internally, Marinette hopes that display is enough to tide over Lila's irritation for now.

Mlle Lance glances over the three of them, seeming to stare at Marinette a little longer than the other two. “Well then, since there are no questions, let us head to the dining hall. And don't worry about your belongings, the footman will bring them to your lodgings.”

“Oh, Mlle Lance, I'd–uh… I'd rather not hassle the staff here, I can manage bringing my belongings up on my own.” Marinette admits, wringing her hands slightly.

Mlle Lance shakes her head, “that's very polite of you but I'm afraid, as you'll be having dinner and we'll be discussing details, it'll be a little while before you head to your temporary rooms. So it'll be far easier on both you and the staff here, if you allow them to do their job.”

“Okay…” Marinette relents easily, trying to ignore Lila rolling her eyes at her.

“If there are no more further questions, then follow after me please, the academy can be rather labyrinthine for those unfamiliar with its halls.” Mlle Lance instructs, already turning around and walking back towards the great stone staircase, Drake on her heels.

———

The journey through the hallways and various anterooms of the academy takes far longer than Marinette could have anticipated. On more than one occasion, she ends up falling behind due to getting distracted by the sheer amount of luxury, art, and finery everywhere. Forcing her to frantically scurry after Mlle Lance, Lila, and Adrien—all three who seem completely at home and unperturbed or uninterested by the décor, unlike her.

By the time they reach the large and ornately carved wooden doors leading to the dining hall, Marinette is flushed bright red from the embarrassment of having fallen behind so many times.

The heavy doors creak loudly as they slowly swing open at Mlle Lance's push, revealing a large dining hall—far larger than any Marinette has seen—with seemingly hundreds of wooden tables and benches. Startlingly enough, there's a boy already seated at one of the nearer benches—eating away at a trencher of hunter's stew.

No Ichneumon in sight, Marinette notes, a fellow student perhaps?

“Good evening, Jason, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here at the moment.” Mlle Lance greeted, nodding her head to him.

Jason squints at Mlle Lance and hunches his shoulders defensively. “B said I could grab food from here whenever I wanted.”

Mlle Lance smiles, “and that's perfectly fine. These are new arrivals, so I was just hoping to let them have some dinner without the usual chaos before going over the main details they'll need to know about attending here.” She paused for a moment. “You don't have to stay and listen if you don't want to, since you've heard this spiel many times now. But equally, feel free to stay, I'm sure it'd be nice for you and the new arrivals to get to know each other before meeting the rest of the class tomorrow.”

Jason slowly eyes Lila, Adrien, and Marinette. He places an arm in front of his trencher. “Might as well stay then I guess.”

Mlle Lance nods at him again before guiding the three of them over to the back of the dining hall where the kitchen was connected to. A few cooks were tending to various meals and pots of hunter's stew, as well as prepping trenchers or cleaning wooden bowls, and wood or horn spoons.

Marinette is still half processing everything so receiving a trencher full of hunter's stew from the cooks barely registers in her mind. And next thing she knows, she is seated next to Lila on the end of the bench and table next to Jason, with Mlle Lance sitting opposite her, Lila, and Adrien. The other two have already started tucking into the food, so cautiously Marinette takes a few sips of the stew broth with a horn spoon.

Mlle Lance clasps her hands together and rests them on the table. “Let's start with what you three already know regarding the dragoon squadrons and this academy.”

Pausing in his eating, Adrien grins. “This is the longest standing dragoon academy, and we'll be taught everything from dragon history, to the language of the dragons, to what is known of Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army!”

“And,” Lila pipes up, “we'll pick our dragons that we'll train alongside and eventually become fully-fledged Dragoon Guardians with.”

Jason snorts, “sorry to break it you two but this isn't some fucking fairytale.”

Before Lila or Adrien could respond, Mlle Lance cleared her throat. “Right well firstly, Dragoon Guardians is somewhat of an archaic term I'm afraid. But you're not too far off with what you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason pretends to be suddenly interested in his trencher of stew.

Though, Marinette does catch him briefly glancing up at her with a curious but also disbelieving look in his eyes. She can't help but instinctively curl her shoulders in and make herself as small as possible.

“And Marinette, what do you know about the academy?” Mlle Lance adds.

Marinette hesitates, trembling slightly and licks her lips. “Uh, well I know roughly the same as Lila and Adrien, so nothing that hasn't been said already…”

She catches Jason squinting at her, and she curls up even more.

Mlle Lance nods thoughtfully, “to start with, Adrien, you are correct in that this is the longest standing dragoon academy. You're also correct that we teach our students dragon history—including the history of the dragoons—as well as teaching the language of the dragon. We also do teach regarding Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army. However, that will be taught across multiple different subjects as it isn't quite as simple as it may currently seem to you.”

Adrien beams at having been mostly correct. “My father hoped I would be chosen to attend a dragoon academy so he made sure I was taught a general overview.”

“And that's more than most know to begin with, so well done.” Mlle Lance praises, before continuing. “However, Lila, here students do not pick their dragons. The process of meeting the dragon who will be raised and trained beside you, is not what most people think of when they first hear about dragoon human and dragon pairs meeting.”

Lila's lips twitch downwards in dissatisfaction and narrows her eyes slightly at Mlle Lance.

Before anything else can be said, Mlle Lance furrows her brows, “one moment students, a matter has just arisen that I need to quickly take care of.”

With that, she rises from the bench and strides out of the dining hall, shutting the door behind her as she exits.

As soon as the door shuts, Jason, with a concerned look on his face, gets up as well and walks the few steps over to Marinette's bench. Quietly, he asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Marinette swallows a breath of air thickly, and still visibly trembling, laughs nervously. “W-well I'm a little over-overwhelmed, I suppose… What with every—”

Only to slam her mouth shut as Lila wraps her arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to her side.

“She's fine thank you,” Lila coos, “just not used to all the displays of wealth in the castle, here, isn't that right, Marinette.”

Marinette pales, eyes widening with panic and frantically nods her head. “Y-yep!”

Jason raises an eyebrow at Lila, unable to keep the slight sneer off his face as he turns ever so slightly to stare at her, “and you are?”

Lila perks up at his attention, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with one hand. “Didn't you hear Mlle Lance there, I'm Lila.” She smiles cloyingly at him and flutters her eyelashes. “I'm the daughter of a very important diplomat and one of my ancestors was an incredibly powerful Dragoon Guardian.”

Jason snorts, and rolls his eyes once more. “Right. Whatever.” He turns his attention back to Marinette and gives her a sharp nod. “What shit has the rich brat got hanging over your head?”

It clearly takes all of Lila's self-control to not immediately switch from her faux sweetness to fury. Her smile turns wooden and her gaze sharpens at Jason. “Excuse me?”

“You're excused,” Jason responds smugly.

“W-what do you mean?” Marinette asks, struggling to process the conversation after the slight cannonball that Jason just casually asked her.

He tilts his head at her, not unlike a bird. “She looks, sounds, and acts exactly like the kinda rich bastards that hold shit above kids who aren't rich, and you're clearly fucking petrified of her. So is she blackmailing you or something?”

Marinette mouths yes at him whilst shaking her head.

Jason raises an eyebrow at her for a second before shrugging with one shoulder, “alright.” He turns on his heel and heads back to his table and bench where his trencher of stew is waiting.

Lila gapes at him.

Adrien rises from his seat and stares at Jason, flabbergasted. “Aren't you going to apologise to Lila, now? You were wrong.”

Lifting his chin, Jason gives Adrien an unimpressed look then flips the bird at him. A few seconds pass before he shrugs and makes a non-committal noise of disinterest, then he starts spooning stew into his mouth.

Lila huffs and scowls at Jason. She turns to glare at Marinette, faux concern practically dripping from her words despite the evident fury on her face. “You should avoid him from now on, wouldn't want the teachers to think you're a delinquent and get kicked out before you even get to meet your dragon.”

Marinette nods slowly and keeps her attention very carefully on her food.

Her patience is rewarded as a few dozen seconds later, Lila loses interest in her and starts eating her trencher of stew whilst starting a new conversation with just Adrien.

Taking her chances, Marinette sneaks a glance up at Jason with a small smile on her lips.

To her surprise, he also happens to be looking over at her. He flashes her a cheeky grin, winks, before going back to eating.

Maybe, she muses to herself as her grin turns giddy, I was wrong about the academy not being my fresh start. Because this definitely feels like a fresh start now, it almost feels like I'm in a fairytale.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| The dragon riders are called Dragoons in reference to the mounted cavalry called Dragoons who used guns/firearms known as Dragons hence the name. And so I decided it only makes sense for these dragon riders to also be called Dragoons. Armée volante means flying army and was what the historical dragoons were sometimes known as, because of how mobile they were. |

| Ichneumon, also known as Echinemon in Medieval Zoology are enemies of dragons (and snakes and crocodiles in some accounts) and defeated them by covering themselves in armour made from mud before attacking. They are also one the only creatures (the other being weasels) that are immune to the Cockatrices' petrifying sight. |

| Fun fact: Trenchers are flat round (often stale) bread "plates" used during the medieval era. They are cut in half and sometimes the fluffy bread innards are scooped out (like pumpkins) so that the loaf's crust forms a bowl instead. Usually the bowls are used to hold stews or soups, though they were also used for non-liquid based food (which is why they later evolved into our modern day plates and cheese boards). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

Death Cannot Stop True Love

Summary: After being kidnapped from his kidnapper by the Dread Pirate Roberts, Blaine reminisces on the poor farmboy who once held his heart.

The Princess Bride AU, one shot, 1.7k words

A/N: did i work on ANY of my wips this weekend? no <3

BUT DID I WATCH THE PRINCESS BRIDE TWICE AND THEN SUBSEQUENTLY WRITE THIS? YOu BET YOUR ASS I DID

I've never really written anything like this??? But I surprisingly had a lot of fun with it, so let me know what you think! :D

Read on Ao3

*** 

Blaine’s hands land a bit too roughly against the grey granite for his taste, rather put off by the masked stanger’s manhandling.

He supposes being kidnapped by Willaim Schuester, then having the Dread Pirate Roberts kidnap him from his kidnapper wasn’t quite the delightful way he’d expected to end his evening ride, either.

“Rest, your Highness,” the man in black commands, the strands of tattered fabric that secure his mask tied behind his head billowing in the wind. Blaine refuses to shiver at the cool air of the highland whipping across his face, not wanting to show this man any signs of weakness. “You’re going to need it.”

“You’re the one who’s going to need rest,” Blaine spits, turning to face the man and take a proper seat on the stone. “My betrothed will come for me. Prince Smythe is an excellent tracker. He could track a falcon on a cloudy day, and he and his infantry will have me back in the castle and you in shackles by dusk.”

He should not make such bold claims at a time like this, and certainly not to someone as deadly as the Dread Pirate Roberts. Well, Blaine is only mostly sure he’s speaking to the infamous Pirate known for his murderous voyages on his ship, “Revenge”, but he’s certain enough.

“Ah, yes,” the man says bitterly back, fingers drumming ansty along the handle of his sheathed sword. “Prince Smythe. You have much faith in your most beloved, don’t you?”

Having his daily outing interrupted by that faux-philosopher Schuester from earlier and his two henchmen was unpleasant enough, but of all the things he’s heard come out of someone’s mouth this was the foulest. The law of the land gives Smythe the right to choose his spouse, and he chose Blaine. Despite this, Blaine knows he could never love Sebastian back. Now when he’s really known and lost his true love.

“I never said he was my most beloved,” Blaine snarls.

No. That title belongs to a name too precious to be uttered in front of the likes of a cheating, stealing, slaying pirate.

It’s been five long and lonely years since his dearest Kurt left him to venture out to sea, but Blaine can still feel Kurt’s hand in his sometimes, can still feel the residual warmth, as if it were yesterday. When he closes his eyes, it’s Kurt’s beautiful blue ones that are waiting for him when he falls asleep. Every round that his heart beats, it beats for the long dead Kurt Hummel.

Kurt had been Blaine’s family’s farm boy, and Blaine, in his infantile arrogance, loved nothing more than to boss him around. Whether it was “Farmboy, shine my saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning,” or “Farmboy, take these jugs down by the river to wash,” Kurt always responded with the same simple sentence that sent Blaine’s heart aflutter.

“As you wish.”

Blaine didn’t understand it at first—how could he, when he’d never been in love—the quickening of his pulse when he was near Kurt, how his knees seemed to careen and fail when hazel met piercing blue.

He didn’t understand why, when he’d asked Kurt to clean the stables, Kurt had looked at him with electricity in his eyes like a thunderstorm, and Blaine felt compelled to add a meek, “Please?” to the end of his request. He didn’t understand why when Kurt so softly answered him with those three little words— “As you wish” —Blaine would light like a lantern from the inside out.

He didn’t understand why he asked Kurt to fetch him a pitcher hanging right by his own head, just so he could be graced with having him in such close proximity, chest to chest.

“As you wish,” Kurt had said, and Blaine didn’t understand the magnetic force drawing them closer and closer.

And then Kurt’s lips were on his, and oh, how Blaine finally understood. He understood why wars were waged over Helen of Troy, and why lutists serenaded the public with foolish tunes of love that were actually the least foolish things in their nature.

He understood that every time Kurt said, “As you wish,” what he truly was saying was “I love you.”

He understood so clearly, and everything that wasn’t Kurt was reduced to complete and utter nonsense.

For a short year, they lived on borrowed time. Kurt’s family wasn’t from money, so he left the farm—and with it, Blaine—to seek wealth enough to ask for Blaine’s hand in marriage. It wasn’t long until the news came back to him that Kurt had encountered the Dread Pirate Roberts on the high seas.

There are three things Blaine knows to be true. Kurt Hummel was his one true love, death takes everyone and does not discriminate, and the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.

Kurt never returned to him after that.

“No, I suppose he’s not your one true love,” the Dread Pirate responds, unimpressed. “I wonder whether a royal-to-be like yourself has ever truly loved.”

“I’ve loved and been loved deeper than you will ever know!” Blaine counters. “He was stolen from me, his blood on your sword. I know who you are. You’re the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it.”

The Dread Pirate gives a little flourish, his night black outfit a stark contrast to the verdant grass of the highlands. “With pride.”

“You killed my love.”

“Quite possible. I’ve killed many of noble blood aboard my ship.”

“You know nothing,” Blaine says. “He was poor. Poor and perfect and with eyes like the sea after a storm. I received notice that he’d crossed your path on the high seas, and as we all know, you never take prisoners.”

Roberts shrugs, displaying such upsetting nonchalance at Kurt’s demise. “Can’t afford to make any exceptions. Once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you, and then it's nothing but work, work, work, all the time.”

Being held hostage by Schuester while the Dread Pirate fought off Michael Chang, one of the best swordsman ever to walk the earth, was nerve wracking. Hearing how he then proceeded to physically conquer who is probably the tallest man Blaine has ever seen, and then listening as he sat blindfolded to this man outwit William into drinking from a poisoned cup was a hellish enough adventure on its own, but it was not as dreadful as hearing his anguish ridiculed by this stranger.

“You mock my pain!”

“Life is pain, Highness.” The pirate gives Blaine a look that he would consider hurt, if he did not hate him so. “Anyone who says different is selling something… I think I remember this farmboy of yours. This would be about what, five years ago?”

Five years, three months, and sixteen days, Blaine refuses to say. His silence doesn’t deter Roberts from continuing.

“He died well, if it pleases you to hear that much.”

“With all due respect—which is little to none—nothing you can say will please me. Likewise, nothing you can say will harm me.”

“He made no attempts at either bribery or blubbering. He simply said Please. I need to live. It was the please that caught my attention. I need to live for him.” The pirate’s eyes grow misty and distant and so painfully reminiscent of his love’s that Blaine is forced to look away for a moment. “He spoke of a boy so lovely, and of enduring faithfulness. Sad to see he died for nothing. Tell me, Highness, when you heard news of his death, did you immediately become engaged, or did you wait a week out of respect for the dead?”

“Had I a choice in this matter I would join him among the realm of the dead!” Blaine yells back, surprised to see a bit of shock in the thief’s eyes. “You mocked my pain once, do not do it again. I died that day!”

The unmistakable sound of hooves pounding into the ground of the hillside opposite them causes Blaine to sigh in relief. He never thought he would be so elated to see his fiance. Still... elated may be too strong of a word.

The Dread Pirate turns to scout the incoming commotion, and Blaine acts before he has time to second guess himself.

“And you can die, too, for all I care,” he grits out, and shoves hard on the Dread Pirate’s back, sending the murderer tumbling down the hillside.

Blaine’s expecting to hear shouts of terror coming from the pirate, but what he hears next makes his stomach pool with dread.

“Aaaaaas yoooouuuuu wiiiiiiish!” echoes through the hillside, coming from the Dread Pirate Roberts and Blaine’s jaw drops.

“Kurt,” he gasps. “Oh God, what have I done?”

“Over there!” he hears Sebastian’s familiar and grating voice call out from just beyond the hillside. One glance behind his shoulder and Blaine knows they will come for him, and when they do, he will never see Kurt again.

So he jumps forward and follows Kurt rolling down along the slope of the hill.

Small rocks and flowers swirl past him in a blur, dirt kicked up every time his boots collide with the ground, and after falling for what feels like ages, his body finally comes to a halt, right next to Kurt’s warm one.

Blaine shifts to see Kurt better, body bruised from the fall, but soul absolutely jubilant.

Kurt scrambles over to him, black mask having been knocked off in the tumble. “Are you alright? Can you stand?”

Blaine laughs and reaches out to grab Kurt’s— Kurt’s —hand on top of his chest. as if to keep them physically tethered this time. “Stand? You’re alive. If you want, I could fly.” He buries his head deep into Kurt’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of him mixed with the grass and the dirt and the absolute joy of him being alive.

Kurt holds him back just as tight. “I told you I’d always come for you.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“My sweet Blaine,” Kurt murmurs, hand warm against Blaine’s cheek. “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

Blaine barely has time to smile before Kurt’s lips are on his again, back in their rightful place.

hey all!  it’s nearly the end of the year now and it’s time to finish the list of my favorite 2020 fics! (you can find part i of this rec here !) I can’t thank these authors and anyone else who published things this year enough. it’s been many long months where a distraction was much needed, and we got such amazing content for FREE. being able to escape into another world for even just a few minutes right now is priceless. 

to everyone who wrote something, read something, or simply made it through this year, kudos to you! wishing everyone a much more relaxing 2021 with even more amazing fics to come. :)  thank you guys for everything – happy holidays & new year, and happy reading!  

there were so many good ones out this year and there’s no way I can include all of them, but I enjoyed so many more than just the ones on this list! the ones I picked just stood out to me for some reason based on how I was feeling or what I was going through at the time, and they all helped me in some way or another. :) not to mention, I am sooo behind on recent fics and most of the blff, so I will be making more recs slowly into the new year as well!  

quick disclaimer! as with every time I put these together, this list is based on my own opinions and features a variety of different kinds of fics and tropes. I include the info next to them for a reason! please stick to your own preferences and leave any hate out of your choices. that being said, if you enjoy any of these, please leave the author a kudos, comment, or send them a message to let them know you liked it!  

okay, in no particular order!:  

a place with skeletons by @crazyupsetter / whoknows 
 E | 50k | b!L | veela!Louis 

“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. 

It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here. Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. 

Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.” 

even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight
 E | 25k | b!L | uni au  

Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job. 

runaway darling by @solvetheminourdreams 
E | 26k | no smut | wedding au  

An AU where Louis hates weddings, Harry loves them, and together they help a bride skip hers. 

three days in february by @mercurial-madhouse / writing_practice 
 E | 187k | b!L | magical realism  

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind. 

a springtime’s wilt, an autumn’s bloom by snowcaplou  E | 20k | b!L | abo 

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

just a flicker in the dark by @falsegoodnight 
 E | 57k | b!L | witch!Louis 

Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles. 

terror of surrender by @loubellies 
E | 31k | b!L | yoga instructor!H  

Louis is a recent divorcee with a new favorite yoga teacher, Harry. 

loving you’s a bloodsport by @rosesau
 M | 106k | no graphic smut | royalty au  

harry is a bratty prince, louis is a guard who works in his palace, and niall is the only one who’s got his life in control. 

spoonful of sugar by @zanniscaramouche (check out this part too!)  
E | 43k | b!L | mob boss!Harry  

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles. 

quiet people have the loudest minds by @2tiedships2
 M | 38k | referenced b!L | abo 

The one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry. 

works like a charm by @falsegoodnight 
E | 18k | b!L | Hogwarts au  

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone. 

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.  

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts. 

Three: They do not get along.  

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git. 

show you the stars in the daylight by @yvesaintlourent / bruisedhoney 
E | 13k | b!L | friends to lovers  

The one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it’s definitely not his best friend’s little brother Harry…ten years later, he changes his mind. 

in a sea of mist by @tomlinvelvetfics 
E | 126k | b!L | mythology au  

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs. 

confessions of a fabricated alpha by @jaerie 
E | 18k | b!H/b!L mention | abo  

famous alpha Harry Styles has a secret and paying an alpha to roleplay a relationship with him over the phone is the only way he can be himself. 

take my whole life too by @goodmorninglou
  E | 24k | b!L | d/s elements | WIP

Louis knows three things, at the base of it all. 

He likes when Harry hurts him. He doesn’t know why, not really, but he knows that he likes it. Likes giving up control, likes feeling small and taken care of, likes being praised for taking whatever Harry gives him for as long as he gives it. He and Harry are meant to be. No matter what time they finally fall together, what day, what age, what place, the moment that they do, that’ll be it. It’s going to be them against everyone else, hand in hand for the rest of their lives. That’s been a given since they met. The half of Louis’ soul that’s missing is Harry’s. 

And, sans those two things, he doesn’t really know much of anything at all. 

sweet like honey by @falsegoodnight  
E | 33k | b!L | amateur porn au  

Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal. 

a few rereads posted from before this year that I enjoyed again!  

the case of the (definitely not haunted) styles mansion by briamaria  
E | 40k | b!H | nancy drew au  

the Nancy Drew AU where Marcel is a man of logic, Louis is a private detective who believes in ghosts, and the Styles Mansion is definitely, absolutely, positively *not* haunted. 

canyon moon by @eeveelou  
E | 40k | b!L | abo  

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.  Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.  

An A/B/O Lion King AU 

lemon eyes by @turnyourankle  
E | 50k | b!H | abo  

It’s not proper for omegas to mess around with alphas before finding their bondmate. But Harry doesn’t give a damn what’s proper and fully intends on getting as much experience as he can before even trying to find one. As far as he’s concerned, the right alpha won’t care, and he’ll have some fun on the way.  And who better to start with than Louis Tomlinson, the alpha with the worst reputation on campus? 

all this delusion in our heads by snowcaplou 
 E | 15k | b!L | exes to lovers  

After Harry and Louis break up, they cope with it in very different ways. What will happen when Harry keeps calling his ex over when things go wrong in his life, but Louis just can’t take it anymore? 

the way the storms blow by @rbbsbb  
E | 21k | b!L | roommates au  

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick. 

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. 

Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.  Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.  

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea. 

and a few more recs from some other fandoms for anyone who might be interested! (feel free to rec me some more if you know of any!)  

burning the ground by lq_traintracks (drarry)  
E | 10k | b!draco | abo 

“Strap him down,” someone said, and Harry felt the rage thicken inside him – the viscous fear. Magical bindings pulled taut around his wrists … He felt a wand touch his arm and then a sharp bite as something punctured the skin, and a sweet, cool tonic rushed his veins. His breathing slowed. His eyelids drooped. The ceiling went grey and dark. And then he heard a woman’s voice sigh, “Someone, get Healer Malfoy.” 

every step you take by nokomis (sterek) 
 E | 50k | light b!Stiles | abo  

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super. 

+

alright, I think that’s it for this rec! as always, please let me know if i’ve tagged anything incorrectly or if you’d like to be untagged from something!  

and like I said before, I am wayyy behind on reading for these last few months and I need to catch up. when I do, I’ll definitely make some more recs into the new year! 

I just want to say another thank you to anyone who wrote or read or created or just existed this year. it’s been hard on us all but having this outlet definitely made it easier. I can’t wait to see what else is published next year! happy reading everyone, and happy new year! :)

Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 2

Part 1 - MasterList

I am having so much fun writing this story so far. I had a bit of a struggle to figure out how I wanted it to go, but I think I’ve got that down now. And so it’s getting a bit easier. I hope you guys love this part as much as I do, because it has some returning characters.

I’ve already got most of the next chapter written, so I might post it 12/24 or so if I have enough interest and get far enough along to continue to be ahead of myself.

If you like my work, please think about going to BuyMeACoffee (which you can access from my MasterList above or through my header) to support me. If you would like to commission a piece, DM or shoot me an ask for details.

All the best!

We reached the outer walls of the goblin city an hour or two shy of nightfall, and I heard the trumpets announcing our approach as the gates swung wide. I smiled eagerly, and spurred my mount into a graceful canter through the streets of the outer city. The majority was below ground and deep into the mountainside, but since the signing of the Peace Treaty between the Kingdoms somewhere around a dozen years before, the goblins had set up a trade haven here on the surface. During the day, the streets were often bustling, but with night fast approaching and temperatures dropping they had a quiet air of productivity about them now. A mixture of goblins spattered with the occasional human were closing up shop as I rode, and I heard a few happy cries of greeting and murmurs of excitement when they recognized me as I passed them by. My hair billowed and bounced out wildly behind me, and I offered a friendly wave to the merchants and shoppers who greeted me as I left the royal carriage far behind and rode up the slope to the castle proper.

Those gates opened as well without delay, and the echo of my horse’s hooves clattered about the cobblestones. A herald darted from one side doorway, quickly straightening his tunic. He had only half my name out before I passed him, and he gave a tiny puff of air as he realized the pointlessness of his loud announcement of my arrival was overshadowed by the racket of hooves. But news certainly did travel fast here regardless. It had only been maybe ten minutes since I had first crossed the threshold of the outer city, and already someone was waiting for me at the top of the long, shallow steps. I pulled up my mare short before the wide stairs of the main doors at the head of the courtyard, and my smile grew at the familiar figure I saw standing before them with his shoulders squared and his hands clasped behind his pin-straight back.

I called out to him loudly with a cheery greeting, already swinging out of the saddle before my mount had come to a full stop. A few attendants rushed forward, and I passed her reins over with a kind word of thanks to them and a pat to her thick neck.

The second eldest of our family looked down at me with a slightly exasperated expression. It could be hard to tell with him sometimes; like our oldest brother, he tended to conceal most of his emotions beneath a stony façade. Remnants of a childhood with our strict father, I had been told, though I recalled only very little of that time myself. Not to mention that the etiquette of human court still aired towards a more stoic and reserved composure. But I knew both my brothers well enough to read the tiny changes which denoted their thoughts behind their masks. So I already knew King Nikostratus was not particularly pleased to see me on his doorstep that evening even before he spoke.

“Chickadee, what are you doing here?” He exclaimed as I skipped up the steps to him. “Valerianus assured me he would send word ahead for when to expect you.”

Despite the scolding edge to his voice, he enveloped me in a warm hug when I reached him. It had been more than three months since we had last seen each other after all, though of course we wrote to each other regularly. I forgot how much I had missed him myself until I was firmly enveloped in his arms and his familiar scent. I saw his expression had softened a little by the time I pulled back, and he fondly pushed my hair out of my face as he must have done a million times before.

“The roads were perfectly clear, Niko!” I told him, not fighting his fussing over my wild locks. “I don’t know what Val was waiting for, but I got tired of waiting for it.”

“Please tell me you at least informed our brother you were leaving?” He bemoaned, a slight frown pinching at his brow. I gave him a tiny, sheepish grin, and he sighed heavily in defeat. Gesturing over an attendant. “Morgana, you cannot just ride back and forth across the countryside whenever you very well feel like it. You are a Princess for goodness sakes. It’s dangerous!”

“But Niko-!”

“Auntie Gana!” Came a shouting chorus of gleeful voices from behind my brother in the castle, interrupting his reprimanding and my planned defense.

I dropped to one knee with a returning grin as two of my nephews and one of my nieces sprinted into my arms. They very nearly knocked me over with their combined weight, and I laughed as I fell back onto my bottom.

“My goodness!” I gasped. “Look at how you’ve all grown! Izaak, is that you?? I can barely recognize you! And Lorette! You’ve grown your hair so long!”

I scooped up their youngest, Viktor, into my arms as his remained stubbornly latched around my neck. The other two let me unwrap them so I could stand once more, but clung to my legs and tunic excitedly. I vaguely overheard my brother giving instructions to the attendant to send word to Val about my surprise but safe arrival. I placed a hand on Izaak’s head, scruffing the eleven year old’s hair. He pushed my hand away with a soft yelp and a fussing word before quickly working to smooth out the messy blonde curls as best he could. Lorette tugged on my shirt.

“Auntie Gana, are you here for the rest of winter now?” She asked eagerly.

I looked up at Niko, raising one eyebrow pointedly. I heard the creak of the carriage arriving in the courtyard, followed by the click of its doors as my Ladies emerged from within. My brother looked over at it, then gave another heavy sigh, shaking his head.

“Honestly, chickadee, I should send you straight back.” He told me, but belittled his words by turning and leading the way into the castle proper. “This behavior is absolutely unacceptable and-”

“Ah, I thought I heard the trumpets! And look who’s come to call!” Came a cheery voice, interrupting us for a second time. We turned as a group to face the goblin King as he strode down the hall with an excited skip in his step. “Finally! I thought our little bird might just end up staying south for the winter this year!”

Viktor wriggled to be released at the sight of his father, squealing with delight. I put the four year old on the ground to sprint over to the King next, who scooped him back up with a small touch of difficulty. Even at four, the little human boy was starting to outgrow his tiny 5’2 foot goblin parent. But if the weight bothered him, the goblin King didn’t let it show, sauntering over with a toothy grin and his son perched on one hip.

“Grier, thank goodness,” I greeted him, giving my brother’s husband a warm and grateful smile of relief, “Just in time to talk some sense into Niko! He wants to send me back!”

“Send her back??” Exclaimed Grier, his brow shooting up as he looked over at Niko. “Whatever for?? She just got here!”

His voice was full of his usual vibrant lightness, and it echoed about the large hallway around us. I felt like I was floating on air at its sound. I loved the vibrancy of the goblin kingdom, especially compared to the solemn human court of Geriveria, and that vivacity was in no small part due to its monarchs. It always made me feel so happy to see both of them, though it might be hard to see how they were compatible at all at first glance. Where my brother was soft spoken, stoic, and as unreadable as stone, his husband was everything the opposite. Grier was flamboyant, loud, and wore his emotions on his sleeves for everyone to see. While Niko wore dark solid coats with sensible black or grey pants and subdued gold buttons, Grier wore loud prints, usually several of them at once, with strange cuts, frills, and styles. His long blonde hair was absolutely wild in contrast to Niko’s short cropped black. He wore bangles and bobbles and earrings, where the most my brother ever wore was a decorative belt or a ceremonial sword at his hip. One would be hard pressed to find a more unalike pair of men. But one would be equally hard pressed to find a pair that somehow worked as well together as they did. Or made each other half as happy.

Niko gave Grier a look which equaled the same level of exasperation he had given me just a few moments prior. “She snuck out of the castle, again,” he told him, his voice as level and smooth as always but hinting at his frustration around the edges, “She didn’t inform King Valerianus she was leaving. And she didn’t send word ahead.” His hazel eyes shot back to me, narrowing slightly. “What if something had happened to her on the road? We would never have known until it was far too late.”

I took the scolding with a slightly bowed head, biting my tongue, and even Izaak and Lorette hid behind my legs with the sternness of my brother’s voice. Perhaps out of sympathy; I was sure they had heard that tone more than once themselves. It had the quality of making one feel not fearful of punishment, but instead horribly guilty for their actions. And longing to correct whatever disappointment one had inadvertently fostered. I rested a hand on each of their heads reassuringly.

Grier, however, seemed unaffected by the tone, and waved his free hand with a loud scoff that echoed about the stone hall. “Nonsense! She’s here safe now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He nudged his husband with his elbow. “Let the girl be, Nikostratus. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson and won’t ever scare you like that again.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and his slender brows raised high. “Right, little bird? Certainly your brothers have enough to worry about?”

I nodded solemnly, silently thankful for his intervention. Otherwise the lecture might have continued all night. “Yes, you’re right.” I glanced over at Niko. “I’m sorry, Niko, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“See there? No harm done.” Grier shifted his grip on Viktor, cocking one brow at Nikostratus. “What do you think then?”

My brother gave another long, deep sigh, shaking his head. He considered the goblin for a moment, then I saw his hazel eyes flick down to the children at my knees. I saw the sternness lift from his features again, and Izaak released my leg to move over and stand at his side with a shy smile.

“I suppose I am outnumbered.” He mused, sounding almost indifferent to the fact as he tenderly smoothed Izaak’s hair behind one ear. But then lifted a scolding finger to point at me. “Just this once, I’ll let it go. But never again, chickadee.” He warned.

Grier was already grinning wide before I could offer a response. “Excellent! I’m so happy that’s settled!” He turned to me. “You are just in time for dinner! Would you like to go to your rooms to wash up before? You’ll have to forgive the state of them, we didn’t have a chance to have them fully prepared for your arrival.” He gave a friendly wave to Safa and Lisbet over my shoulder. “I’m sure your Ladies might be able to help to that end, and would remember where everything is should you require aid.”

I smiled back at him. “I should change at the very least. I probably stink of horse.” 

That made the goblin laugh, and he hoisted his youngest over one shoulder so that he squealed with delight as well. “You can’t be any worse than these little beasties of ours!”

His words had Izaak and Lorette giggling as well.

“Inunu! I took a bath today! I don’t stink at all!” Lorette proclaimed, going over to wrap herself around his leg. “Izaak is the smelly one! Boys are always smelly!”

“I am not!” He whined angrily, stamping one little foot at his sister. “I take a bath everyday! Right, papa?”

“I know you do, Izaak. You smell wonderful, of course.” Niko reassured him, gently tucking his fingers under his little pointed chin briefly.

“Where are all the rest of the little beasties then?” I asked, looking around as we made our way down the main hall. “Or perhaps I should just follow my nose?”

“Oh, they’re around here somewhere, getting into mischief I am sure.” Grier replied, waving his hand about errantly as his present children burst into a fresh set of giggles at my teasing. “They’ll be down for dinner, gods know they are always hungry.”

“Chickadee,” my brother began as the two older children sprinted off down the hallway ahead of us, bickering amid themselves, “What made you leave without telling Valerianus? That’s not like you, and you know he worries-”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Come on, Niko.” I grumbled, surprised to find myself quite irritated at his prying. “I’ve only been here two minutes! Can’t the nosy brother act wait until later? I’ve got to go get washed up for dinner.”

He looked slightly appalled by my words. “But-”

“I’m here all winter,” I reminded him before he could finish, hopefully curtailing the conversation successfully again, “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Right now, I want to go get out of these clothes. Plus I’m famished! And I still haven’t seen Corwin and the twins yet!”

I saw him open his mouth to speak again, and darted over before he could. Springing to the tips of my toes and wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug. His response sputtered on his lips, and I used the opportunity to dart away, my Ladies trailing as fast as they could behind me, hiding their own giggles behind gloved hands. His words had struck a chord of guilt in me that had nothing to do with how I had left without telling Valerianus, and my Ladies’ giggles had me flushing a little darker... I certainly did not want to remember the strange visitor that had driven me out of Geriveria’s castle. But couldn’t help lingering on the thought of him, as he had come unbidden to my thoughts anyways… I wondered if he had anyone to worry about him…

“Was she always this difficult?” I heard my brother mumble softly as I made my way to the nearest stairwell to head to my tower rooms. “I swear, I don’t remember having this much trouble with her when she was little.”

“She’s always been trouble.” I heard Grier chuckle quietly in response. “But she’s all grown up now, Nikostratus. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”

Another sigh. “... Perhaps if you cast that time spell on her...”

The goblin King’s laughter followed us the rest of the way up the stairs.

...

I sighed deeply, kicking about the powdery snow with my boots as I trudged over to set up my targets by the riverbed again. The forests were quiet this time of year, and a lingering storm from the night before crunched fresh snow underfoot as I moved. I didn’t bother to walk with a lighter step; it didn’t matter. I wasn’t far enough away from the outer castle wall to be in danger, nor was I trying to be particularly stealthy to hide from the old bottles I had brought along for target practice. I didn’t suppose they would much care if I were upwind or down. The forests surrounding the castle were at a high enough altitude that they were mostly inaccessible to anyone coming from beyond the kingdom borders, though it ran alongside the main road in places. I could be alone, but wouldn’t run into any patrols. And was close enough to return with haste should I hear the distinctive alarm bells that signified my absence had been noticed. 

Not that it should be today, though perhaps Safa and Lisbet would be looking for me at the castle. I had given them and everyone else the slip that morning when I had left without a word. Tired of their prying and longing for some time alone. I doubted they would spend much time looking for me; I had long outgrown any need for chaperones or nursemaids. Their positions as my Ladies were mostly ceremonial. Occasionally they would help me dress (for my more elaborate and highly disdained ensembles) and they made sure my chambers were kept neat. Otherwise, their only other responsibility was keeping me company. As of late I had pushed for them to take more time for themselves, and they had reluctantly agreed. Giving me long afternoons or sometimes almost full days to myself. They would likely think today no different.

As I collected the bottles and set them back on the fallen tree, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering again. As they had frequently over the past few days since my arrival at the goblin castle. And Niko’s pestering desire to speak to me had not made my stay any easier. Luckily, he was King after all, and his Royal duties kept him pretty busy. Add that to the overall huge size of the castle, and it was pretty easy to avoid him. Especially as he had quite the knack for getting very lost in its halls without a proper guide. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how he had managed to call the castle his home for the last decade and still not know how to get from the dining hall to his own bedroom without getting lost. But as it was to my advantage this time, I decided to take it as a blessing.

It was my only blessing at the moment, as it seemed my conscience was weighing rather heavily on me. Every time I had even a breath without something to occupy it, my mind raced to the thought of the strange half-orc I had met in the palace gardens of Geriveria. The sky was as dark as my thoughts as I fretted and worried over him. Was he alright? Had I sent him to his death? Certainly, the trek to the crags of Almayit was not an easy one in fair weather, let alone in the deep of winter. Or so I had been told. And the forests of Pyejara? I had read such stories of the beasts that lurked there. I shivered, both against the chill that had descended upon the world with a vengeance for the mild weather days that had preceded it, and for the thought of that fool orc lost somewhere, perhaps in the rocky outcropping. My mind supplied ample visions of misfortune for the poor fellow, to which my stubbornness gave offhanded replies that only left me feeling a little guiltier. His shoulders were bare, and it’s been so cold! Well, then he should have worn a cloak. The footing there is hazardous, what if he twists his ankle out there all alone? Then he shouldn’t have gone alone. I did warn him it was a dangerous place. If he got hurt or lost, it was his own fool fault! Especially for having taken the word of a woman he had just met, after all!

Still, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering to him, even now as I set my targets and stared at the icy cold water of the small riverbed. I wished perhaps I hadn’t been quite so impulsive and brash. Surely there were other ways to rid myself of a pesky suitor, orc or otherwise. I could have simply told him the truth; that there was no way in hell I was getting married. That was not the path for me, nor had it ever even remotely interested me. I had never fawned over fairytales of true love, or imagined myself a Queen of anywhere. I didn’t want to be some polished princess set on a sparkling throne and no more useful than a flower painted on a wall. I didn’t want to be seen as a reward, or a trophy wife. And I certainly didn’t want to stay in one place for the rest of my life. It may have been a perfect and happy ideal for my brothers, but I had loftier goals for myself. 

I paused, thumbing the bowstring thoughtfully. I welcomed the change as my thoughts shifted to wondering how much longer I would have to wait for my own adventure to start. I had spent my life reading about them, or prying them from travelers and merchants. How did one start these things anyways? In the stories, there was always a catalyst. Something that came along to change the main character’s routine. I wondered what mine would be, or if I could in some way instigate it. Perhaps I needed to simply leave. Pack a saddle and go out into the world. I felt the itch of it in my palms, the biting urge in my legs. I imagined with glee the freedom of the open road, of wandering wherever I wished without the binds of my title weighing me down. Out in the world where no one knew nor cared who I was or where I had come from...

Grier had always said there was a natural magic to the world. When I was little, I used to get jealous of the way he could snap his fingers, mutter a word, and simply manipulate the world around him. I poured over the spell books that I managed to sneak out of the royal library, trying my hardest to understand why it worked for him and the other goblins but not for me. When my efforts had been discovered, when Niko had tried to explain to little twelve year old me that humans weren’t able to learn magic... I had been mad; mad at Niko. Mad at Grier. Mad at magic for refusing me, even though I wanted it so much and tried so hard. 

Then Grier had taken me to the side and in that soft way he was so good at, said something to me that stuck solidly in my mind even to this day. So much so that I could hear it now as clearly as if he were standing beside me speaking the words anew.

“Magic does not exist to be bent to our will.” He had told me, handing me a handkerchief to wipe at my tear stained cheeks. “It is not made to be commanded about; it has a will of its own.”

“But you command it!” I had argued.

He then shook his head. “I ask of it, and it accepts.” He had replied. “It is a partnership, an understanding… and goblins have been speaking with magic for many, many centuries.”

“.... So Niko was right? I’ll never be able to learn magic?” I had whispered sadly, swallowing back a fresh wave of tears.

He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head again. “You may never hear it,” He admitted, “... Not in the way I do. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be able to hear you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Magic is all around us.” He explained. “It’s in the air we breathe, and in the stone at our feet… It is always listening.” His toothy grin had filled his face. “How else do you explain the rain starting just as you’re thinking things can’t get any worse? Or when you’re already having a bad day and you accidentally drop your dessert? Or when you spend hours looking for something just to find it in your pocket? Or what about when you bite into a pastry and it brings you back in time to when you used to bake with your brother?”

“...That’s magic?”

He nodded, still smiling. “Sometimes if you think or worry about something enough, magic will hear you. And who knows what it’ll do when it does.”

I was forcibly reminded of this fact when I heard the snap of a branch in the trees behind me. I spun gracefully on one foot, raising my bow and notching an arrow all in the same motion. So that by the time I was facing my would-be attacker, I already had the string drawn level to my ear.

I nearly let it loose in shock when my eyes fell upon the hulking yellowish-green figure standing before me.

Erramun scowled at me, his brow becoming more pronounced as he scrunched it together. Despite the cold, he still wore nothing but the pauldron on his shoulder and the furs about his hips. He was clutching one large hand at his side, and I noticed he was hunched over slightly. He was also filthy. Covered from head to boot with dirt and mud, and gods knew what else. The recognition must have hit him at the same time it hit me, because he shook his head.

“The gods certainly have a sense of humor,” He growled, “To put you back in my path.”

I hesitated, but felt the strong urge to keep the arrow notched. As I was suddenly reminded he was larger than me, and obviously quite cross. Though I was sure he had a good reason to be. My stomach twisted in knots as my hazel eyes darted over him, accessing every inch. Trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation.

“You are certainly the last person I expected to see as well.” I replied coolly. “... Did you find the flower then?” I added, as if it were no more than a casual comment about the weather.

The half-orc laughed, a booming sound that reverberated around the trunks of the trees surrounding us. “Some flower, eh? Magical and rare?” He replied, his scowl deepening. “I searched high and low for it. Then I go back to the castle-” He took a slow, almost menacing step forward, and I matched him for a wary step back “-and the staff tells me that the Princess left.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the tip of my arrow as I straightened a bit taller nervously. “You forgot to mention I had a deadline.”

“We left rather suddenly.” I told him, careful to keep my voice steady. “How did I know you would be back so soon?”

Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to come back at all! Being sent on a wild goose chase, only to return and find out the one person he had sought to impress had left for the winter. By the gods, how had he even managed to get this far? I glanced about, but he seemed to be alone. No one had guided him here. Were orcs so good at hunting that he had been able to track me like a dog, despite my trail being nearly a week cold? I highly doubted that, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. I doubted also that the palace staff would have told him where I had gone, especially to a stranger at court. So how had he managed to charm that out of them? What else was he hiding?

He shifted, considering me with an equal wariness. “... So the goblin Princess is here?”

I was very good at keeping emotions from my face, especially the ones I didn’t want anyone else to see. Human court was no place to let such things slip, and I was very practiced there. But I still nearly lost my composure at his words. My lips twitched, and I was much more aware of the distinct pull of the bowstring against my fingertips than I had been previously. I wasn’t sure which was more surprising; that he was still interested after all I had put him through, or that he still didn’t realize who he was talking to.

I chewed over my words for a long moment. “... And if she is?”

He growled from somewhere deep in his chest. I almost winced, but quickly realized the sound wasn’t menacing. It was… affirmative, almost.

“Then I want to meet her.” Emerald eyes fixed on the tip of my arrow again. “Will you put that toothpick down, girl?” He grumbled. “You said you would help me. And I think you owe me now.”

His words sparked a bit of fire in my belly. “Owe you?? Are you really that desperate?” I scoffed. “Are there no orc ladies for you to court back home? Why are you even still here?”

His expression shifted drastically at my sneering, and I drew in a deep breath at the way it made his whole face seem to change. He glanced down, as if burdened by something he could not find the words to describe. But I knew that look. I had seen that look on Val’s face. On Niko’s. That weight of a thousand weights… I swallowed hard, but felt a little of the tension leave the bowstring as my tight grip relaxed. When he looked back up at me, his previous scowl was gone. Replaced by something I wasn’t quite sure how to name. But it made me lower my bow the rest of the way. Who was this man?

“I am a stranger to these lands… I cannot do this alone, but it needs to be done.” He told me, his voice quieter than I had yet heard it, but determined. He sighed, almost in irritation. As if resigned to his fate. “... Will you help me?”

I looked over his shoulder, back towards the castle. I felt guilt and stubbornness in equal parts, fighting for position inside me. But I couldn’t. How was I supposed to help him, when I knew what he wanted? And knowing that what he wanted went against everything I had ever dreamed for myself? I could feel the looming trap of his intent like a heavy iron cage dangling over my head. Following my every move. Ready to drop at the slightest provocation and take away the last of my freedom for good. I had already let this go on for far too long. I couldn’t keep up the lie any longer, but felt the truth was far too heavy to speak. Best to just toss both out the window.

I shook my head, resolved. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” I replied, returning the arrow to the quiver at my back with one smooth motion and slinging my bow over my shoulders. “I’ve already made enough of a mess of things. Now, if you’ll pardon me-”

I went to collect my pack from the snowy ground and saw him open his mouth as he stepped forward to intercept me. Likely with some argument or further point for his case. But as he stepped forward, barely a yard away, he staggered, wincing heavily. I moved forward instinctually as he fell to one knee, and found my hand on the pauldron plating his shoulder before I had fully realized where I was. 

His big head pulled back, emerald eyes meeting mine. Barely a hair’s breadth between our faces. I had dropped to a crouch beside him, and after a long pause where I found myself trapped in his eyes… I pulled back my hand.

He growled quietly, glancing off to the side.

“Are you alright?” I asked tentatively.

He offered a grunt, shrugging one big shoulder. “I will be fine.”

The half-orc shifted his weight, nearly bumping into me as he moved to yank himself back to his feet clumsily. He got almost halfway there before he started staggering again. Once more, I jumped forward, forgoing my previous embarrassment and hesitation to shove my shoulder into his. Propping his larger body up with mine to the best of my ability.

“You certainly don’t seem fine.” I shot back. I saw his hand move from his side as he tried to find his balance, and my eyes went wide with shock to see his side gashed and bloody beneath. “You’re bleeding!”

It was his turn to scoff. “It’s barely a flesh wound.” He grumbled.

“Barely a flesh wound?” I echoed, shaking my head incredulously. “You can’t stand straight. I think we’ve passed the notion of ‘barely’.”

Erramun shrugged, shifting his weight and slowly easing himself back to his own feet. But I noticed him look me over again. I wondered what he was thinking as he did. Did he find me as annoying as I found him? Some errant fly he just couldn’t seem to get rid of? I shuffled my feet in the snow, casting my own attention over towards the castle. Then back at him. I realized now that some of that previously unidentified substance smeared across his filthy skin and furs was probably blood. I could smell it a little now that I was closer, the air had a tangy iron bite to it. It made my stomach twist a little more in guilt.

“... Where are you headed?”

He shrugged again, wincing as he did and his hand returning to clutch at his side. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

I groaned. He was an idiot. An absolute, bonafide dumbass. I was quickly realizing that I couldn’t in good conscience leave him again. But I couldn’t exactly bring a bloody and wounded orc through the front gates either. I didn’t imagine I would much enjoy the lecture I would get from Niko once the truth came out. My stomach twisted further with dread at the thought. My mind raced through the other options. Leaving him in the outer city? The stubborn ass would probably end up on my doorstep again. Send him away? I was surprised he had made it as far as he had already. I wasn’t sure he would make it to the road without help now. So what did that leave me with? I almost groaned again, but settled for a sigh as I made up my mind.

“How did you get here?” I asked him, collecting up my bag.

“Eh?” He blinked at me.

I sighed again, more heavily this time, and hoped it was the blood loss making him thicker than a brick wall. “How did you get here?” I repeated. “Did you ride?”

He nodded after a moment. “I have a horse.”

“Well, that’s how most people ride, yes.” I returned, shaking my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“You’ll introduce me to the Princess?” He asked, and I thought his voice sounded a few octaves higher with his suddenly piqued interest.

I resisted the urge to wince myself, clearing my throat and shouldering my pack. “I didn’t say that.” I followed him as he staggered back along his own trail in the snow. “But if I leave you out here, you’ll probably freeze to death or something. And I don’t want that on my conscience.”

He snorted, shaking his own head. “I would not die.”

I almost laughed at that. “Indeed. You seem far too stubborn for such a thing.”

We had emerged to a break in the tree line, not far from the road, and found a large horse waiting there with its back legs hobbled. The big white mare whinnied excitedly as we approached, tossing her head up and down to make her mane slap upon her neck. Erramun grinned as he neared, smacking her side fondly and using her for support to maintain his balance.

“Get on.” I ordered him, giving the mare a friendly pat myself. She turned her head, flicking her ears toward me with her nostrils flaring curiously.

Erramun considered me for a moment, still leaning heavily on the mare and smearing more than a little of his blood against her white hide. Perhaps contemplating the order, and the tone with which I had issued it. Watching as I removed her hobble. He raised one eyebrow and peeked about.

“Where are we going?”

“To the castle.” I tucked the hobbling rope into a pouch on her saddle, and took my own pack off to hook over the horn of it. “I’ll take you the back way.”

“Why?”

“To avoid attention. I don’t feel like explaining to the guard why I’m dragging a bleeding orc around the city.”

“Half-orc.” He corrected me, his voice light with his teasing edge.

“So you like to remind me.” I grumbled in response, watching as he carefully hauled himself haphazardly back into the mare’s saddle. “What’s the other half? Ass?”

He laughed, and I felt a slight stiffening to my spine as the sound bounced around us. “Human.” He assured me. “Like you.”

I took up the mare’s reins, patting her nose. She lipped at my fingers, and I tickled under her chin until she gave a pleased whuff.

“Who says I’m human?” I replied lightly, careful to keep my voice overly flat as if to add to the mystery of it.

He laughed again, though softer this time. More a petering chuckle that remained trapped behind his teeth. “You smell human.”

“Smell??”

Erramun nodded. “Orcs have a good sense of smell. Not like ma’iitso, and not so much when only half-orc… but I can tell you are human when you stand close.”

I ignored the shiver that went down my spine at the reminder of our previous proximity, swallowing as I began to lead the mare back through the trees. “Ma’iitso?” I echoed the unfamiliar term by way of distraction.

The half-orc rubbed at the back of his neck, making some strange sounds in his throat. “Eh… the big wild dogs. They hunt in packs.”

“You mean matsio.” I said, realizing what he meant. “Wolves, in Common.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 20

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

Simon and Martin have a chat.

Martin accepts some advice.

When Martin passed the front gate the world behind him disappeared, replaced by cold, grey mist and stone.

Staring back the way he came only made it harder to remember what had been before, and his head felt the pressure of distance with no point of reference. Something deep inside him knew the perils of walking anywhere but the path leading him to the Fairchild house; to step anywhere else would see him tumbling out and away from the only landmark he had left.

Waiting for him at the front door was the woman who’d taken the sketchbook from him, this time without the veneer of professional courtesy. The hooded jumper, worn jeans, and disinterested wave announced to the world an interrupted day off. If his damp, miserable self was an affront to her sensibilities, she wasn’t showing it, so the wet jacket stayed on.

In his nerves he hadn’t really registered her appearance during their first meeting, too focused on getting rid of the evidence of his crime. She was older, maybe in her 60s, with long grey hair tied back into a low ponytail. He hadn’t seen her about town before, had he?

They walked inside without any chitchat, so Martin glanced about in silence. The interior felt right if his memory served, the same skinny halls and windows stretching from floor to ceiling. The most striking aspect still was the mural at the top of the central staircase. The rest of the house was dwarfed by it, as if the grand building was no greater than his hometown’s silhouette tucked into the corner of the canvas. 

Approaching it, the colors were more. More intense, more bold, all the brightness stolen from the world outside siphoned into an impossible sky. Maybe anything would look that much more  when contrasted with where he’d been. He was at the top of the stairs standing at its center wondering if there was any distance that could give him a proper view of the whole. 

From behind him the woman cleared her throat, though she didn’t seem irritated. He pulled himself away from the spot where he’d stopped to stare, leaving slippery footprints in his wake.

Glancing up at the mural, she only said, “Some things demand attention.”

She led him to the same room from his first visit with its outward wall of glass. Across the room sat Simon, his back facing those large, unbelievably clear windows that now overlooked the fog-covered landscape. Martin heard the woman’s retreating footsteps and the click of the door.

Martin breathed out, keeping a few feet between himself and the old man. He waved stiffly at the windows. “It’s a bit late. I was expecting this to happen last week.”

With that pleasant smile unmoving, Simon motioned for Martin to sit in the chair across from him. “Don’t be ridiculous. That event will be much more exciting. I wanted to put this meeting together, and needed a good mix of quick and fun.”

“Starting to question my understanding of ‘fun’,” Martin mumbled. He took the seat offered to him and crossed his arms over his chest, the rainwater he carried in seeping into the plush fabric. “It seems like I’m always on the losing side of someone else’s.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Simon hummed, leaning back comfortably in his chair. “So you’d prefer something more exciting in your invitations, so you’re not left out? Did my little errand turn you into a thrill-seeker already?”

“No.” A shiver ran through him, not of fear but of an awful, biting cold. The wet of his hair sapped the heat right out of him and pulled his ponytail down heavy onto his neck. “What do you want?”

“Oh, a bit moody today, aren’t we?” The smile was still sitting idly on Simon’s face. “Peter’s been around more often, I can tell. He does that to people, sucks all patience and goodwill out until they’re… well.” He flicked his eyes over Martin with something like pity.

Martin pressed his arms tighter into himself. “So what, you push people into the sky, and he does that?”

Simon laughed without a hint of shame. “Goodness, no. Peter is just like that, no strangeness needed. I’ve often left his company feeling completely drained and irritable, though I’ve found ways to ensure the feeling is mutual.”

“Good friends, then.”

“As much as he can have them.” Simon leaned forward, no hint of bitterness in his voice or expression. “A very close-to-the-chest type, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

With a sharp exhale, Martin said, “Look, if you’re going to ask me for a favor I’m not-”

“Now, now, I’m not one to drag on a favor forever, and you’ve paid in full. Besides, Peter is much too jumpy right now for anything to be done.” Simon turned his gaze toward the window. “I’m afraid all any of us can do now is wait.” 

A jolt of disappointment shocked Martin to silence. All of this dramatic nonsense just to be told to wait and see? He hadn’t had any specific expectations, but deep down he’d believed Simon to be plotting something soon. That even if it was a horrible outcome Martin wouldn’t be left in suspense from every angle of his life. 

Whatever shoe was meant to drop, it hadn’t, and it wouldn’t for some unspecified amount of time.

Simon regained his easy tone and continued, “And I greatly dislike this weather, all of these things clouding my view. Soon I’ll be going weeks without a clear day, and it can feel so… so claustrophobic. So little to work with on a day like this.”

He wasn’t the one who needed to walk in it. “You’re not going to explain anything, are you?”

“No, I’m not. You know how these things are. Business.” Reaching into his pocket, Simon pulled out a small envelope. “Speaking of, like a pouting child Peter has been avoiding me, and as far as I can tell you’re the only person who actually sees him.”

With a deep sigh Martin leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. Not only was he getting nothing out of Simon, but- “This is all so I can be a messenger boy?”

“Just the one time, if Peter can be reasonable.”

“I don’t- Wait. Why not trap him like you did me? Just force him to your door.”

With a sudden laugh that made Martin jump, Simon replied, “Not everyone is as easy to find as you. And anyway, it’s not wise to do that to friends, is it?” 

It wasn’t a way to keep friends, no, and he took the message from Simon without further comment. On the other side of the room, the door opened to reveal that woman. Not needing prompting he stood, looking back one more time at the other man.

Simon remained seated and swung one more friendly smile in Martin’s direction. “You’ll be seen out, then. I must thank you for your previous help, Martin. The personal significance alone can’t be overstated. It’s not my only sketchbook, of course, but several of my best works had their beginnings in it.” Was that glint in his eye one of creative pride, or was there some joke Martin was missing?

The tiniest desire to stay and hear more itched at the back of his mind, but the dismissal was clear and he let the woman lead him back through the house. Once outside he saw the weather had taken a turn for the worse into a complete downpour. The high wind would certainly blow his hood down, making for a wretched walk ahead of him.

“Ah.” He’d been taken to the Fairchild house on an impossible route, but the way home was entirely real. “I have a long way to walk.”

“Inconveniences all around,” the woman said, shutting the door behind him.

Once he was alone he ripped the phone from his pocket and and bent over it to delete his dramatic messages before they could be seen, replacing it with:

Martin: talked with simon (didnt really have a choice), dont think anything will happen with him for a while

Martin: said all we can do is wait? really cryptic

Then he pocketed it once more and walked out the front gate into the reinstated town.

The greatest relief was finding other unlucky pedestrians doing their best to stay dry along with him. Even without the ability to stop and talk he felt the silent commiseration. It wasn’t joy in the suffering of others but rather the knowledge that other people were there at all to share in the cruddy weather. He could see where a person ahead of him was avoiding puddles, and found residual warmth in the lights of nearby shop fronts. It was the kind of melancholy atmosphere that could make rain a little more bearable.

The walk down the cliff however was designed to kill him, the slope slick with mud and abandoned by an early setting sun. No waterproof phone, glasses blurred and splattered with droplets, Martin made his slow way home in the cold, in the dark. More than once he stopped to make sure he hadn’t gotten turned around by forces supernatural or otherwise, but then the ground flattened and he could finally hear the sea over the rain beating against the ground.

He was late of course, but besides some comments about tracking water into the house and forgetting his umbrella his mother had left him well alone, and even took his word when he described the weather as unsuitable for her health. He was grateful. After the last few days anything worse might’ve sent them into a screaming match to surpass any bouts they’d had in years. Maybe the day had taken as much out of her as it had from him.

Instead, after a necessary change of clothes on his part, they ate dinner and watched television, her in her chair and him on the couch. It was some old game show he vaguely remembered, not something that aired in his childhood but that he’d experienced first as reruns, the saturated colors and fuzzy image granting it a multilayered nostalgia. Someone on the screen had just answered a question and was hoping their spouse would come up with the same response.

In his pyjama pants and old t-shirt he felt little, his feet tucked under him because he hadn’t wanted to waste another pair of socks. It was as if he’d just come out of the bath with his wet hair and drooping eyes and was waiting to be told he was up too late. As if he wasn’t responsible for watching the clock himself.

His phone vibrated in the middle of the program, but if his mother noticed she chose to ignore it. Tapping the phone awake, Martin saw a notification from the group message.

Tim: ok check-in time what the hell 

Tim: just saw this 

So they hadn’t seen his initial messages. He breathed out in relief and typed out a reply.

Martin: some weird stuff, but everythings fine. simon made it so i had to go talk to him

Martin: whatever simon mentioned before its not coming yet. seems like he isnt in control of when whatever it is happens? also peter is avoiding him so i need to give him this letter

Tim: weird but

Tim: good? more time for us

Sasha: one less thing to worry about. glad it went okay.

Tim: ^^

He’d successfully avoided any panic or weirdness that his original messages most definitely would’ve caused and patted himself on the back for a job well done. No one needed that as a distraction.

Martin: oh right weird topic change but jon mentioned it, do you really all use a cot at work

Tim: oh yeah lol love that thing

Tim: jon is on it right now actually will pass on simon info when hes awake

Martin: youre all still there??

Tim: oh martin dont you know weve Never Left

Tim: we should get going soon tho now that you mention, will drag jon out of the archives while passing on simon info

Martin: good idea

Tim: and keep those eyes down!

Martin bit his cheek and looked past his phone at the television screen. No doubt it was karma for his rash behavior at the lighthouse, having “just wait!” shouted at him from all corners. The universe was making itself very clear. Simon could’ve just been telling him to let something terrible happen, but even if that was true Martin wasn’t in a place to stop anything.

But it was a great quality of Tim’s, rounding them all up and trying to save them from regrettable decisions. The least Martin could do was make that job easier and stay out of trouble. It was also the most he could do, as much as it irked him.

Martin: dont need to tell me twice! 

And with that Martin pocketed his phone, accepting his fate of inaction.

When he finally put his mother to bed the goodnight between them was not warm, but it was closer to normal. If he’d been told that one of the most pleasant parts of his day would’ve been watching the telly after dinner with his mum, he would’ve… well, it wasn’t that strange. Really it emphasized how bad the rest of his day had been.

Meanwhile the most pleasant event felt fake, even when he checked his call logs to confirm it. What a strange start to a day, he thought as he laid in bed. At least it made up for Jon not being around that evening, that and knowing Jon was getting some sleep. The man clearly needed some prompting during an intense work period to take care of himself, and Martin silently thanked Tim for doing something about it when he couldn’t bring himself to initiate a phone conversation. He knew it was ridiculous for him to be so nervous about the idea, but…

But.

Hopefully Jon didn’t think he was rude. It was one thing to chat in person, but calling without a specific topic to discuss while the others were hard at work? Because he was bored? Best to let Jon reach out when he felt it necessary, even if it meant being woken up at odd hours on a work day and otherwise sitting on his hands. Eventually this would all be behind them and he could stop being racked with guilt over the thought of making a social call. 

Martin’s stomach twisted. Yes, things would be dealt with, and he would move on from this strange period in his life.

He moved to place the phone down for the night when it buzzed in his hand, with a message in another, private chat.

Sasha: we should talk more later about what simon told you specifically. if something big is coming having someone on the inside of things might not be the worst. not saying you should seek him out, he seems perfectly of capable of contacting you, but if it happens again it could be an opportunity

Martin: you think he could be on our side?

Sasha: i think letting people say their piece can lead to understanding, even if the other person is the worst. something is going on between him and peter lukas and the more we know the better

Martin: right…

Sasha: again not saying to run into anything. wait for us etc etc but trust your gut

Martin: so your opinion on staying put?

Sasha: sometimes you cant, thats all im saying

Martin: okay, i think i get it

Sasha: good. now get some sleep, weird things tend to drain you

Martin: goodnight

Sasha: night

Well, she wasn’t wrong. He didn’t believe that Simon was a good person, not with how he’d treated Martin thus far, but that didn’t make him evil, either. And his advice was the same as what everyone else had already been saying: stay out of trouble as best he could and wait for the right moment. Even Sasha still conceded to it being the best option for the present. If Peter told him to wait as well, then Martin would be truly lost on what to do, but until then he would follow the advice of all the people who knew more than he did.

And if Simon called him to his home again, he would try to be less… difficult. And he would buy a better jacket, just in case. 

--

The next morning, he listened to a voice message left shortly after he’d fallen into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

Jon’s groggy voice drifted from the mobile. “Hi, sorry I missed things. Wasn’t expecting Fairchild to be so forward, and my sleep schedule has never been- anyway, Tim convinced me to go back to my flat, but since I slept at the institute earlier I’m currently following a few threads to see if they lead anywhere helpful. I think I’ve reached something, but time will tell.”

He continued after a brief pause. “Seems you’re already asleep, as you should be, so I’ll let you go. Let me know if you have any questions about our other… shared interest. Good night. I hope things stay quiet.” 

Feast

Cameron Bissel x Reader 

Part 2 to My Lady 

2.9k; NSFW 

He had done what you said, with eager anticipation. The next evening, the evening after your tryst in the supply closet, he had found himself waiting outside the damned restaurant in the rain, the pouring rain. He wondered if you would recognize him, standing there without his costume, without his wig, without the props he had built at home and brought in only to go overboard and get fired.

Because of course he had been fired, after that shitshow. Of course.

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like he had this job for the money or anything like that – quite the opposite.

But either way, he wasn’t allowed on the premises anymore, not after the stunt he pulled, so he waits outside in the rain. He’s dressed nicely – which he now fucking regrets, with the way the sky opens up and beats down on the umbrella he’s holding – hoping to impress you.

“(Y/N)!” He calls, his voice for you loud and booming, echoing across the little courtyard where he has to stand. He wishes he could hold the door for you like a proper gentleman, like a right and courageous Knight, but he really doesn’t want security to tackle him again.

You’re out of costume when you emerge through the front doors, and his mouth runs dry. You’re so beautiful, even moreso than he thought before, if that was possible. Maybe it was because you were on your way to him, were smiling and waving at him from the steps of the establishment, were going down the steps two at a time to get closer to him. Maybe that was why.

He’s blinded by the sight of you when you huddle close underneath his umbrella, shielding yourself against his body from the rain.

“Cameron you came!” You grin up at him, eyes bright from excitement, and he finds his heart is beating far too fast.

He gives you a confused smile as you loop your arms around his shoulder and hug him, his hand that’s not holding the umbrella splaying out over your back, pressing you in close. You smell amazing, like some kind of perfume or fancy shampoo that Cameron can’t place, but it makes his mouth water.

“Of course I did, you told me to.” He says, like it was the simplest thing, following your instructions, your orders.

He’d do anything for you, anything you told him to. But maybe now wasn’t the best time to say that, he didn’t want you thinking he was some creep, some obsessive stalker or anything. He wasn’t, he just. Well. He’d just admired you for a long time, and didn’t want to blow this chance to get to know you better, especially when you seemed so receptive to wanting to get to know him.

“I wasn’t sure if you actually had any interest.” You duck your head in mild embarrassment, in a shyness that has his eyes widening.

“I meant what I said last night, (Y/N).” He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilts your face up to his. You’re so close, just within kissing distance, but he won’t do anything that you don’t want, don’t expressly tell him to do. So, instead of kissing you over and over and over again like he so desperately wants, he drops his hand and tangles the fingers with yours asking, “How about that date, if I recall, you demanded a dinner?”

You bite at your lip, give him a look with those doe eyes of yours, through those lashes of yours that have his knees weak, as you adjust the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“I have a better idea,” You start, smiling as he takes your bag from you – a lady never should carry her own things, after all – and hoists it over his own shoulder instead, completely nonplussed by the fact that it’s a purse, as you continue, “With the weather as shit as it is, why don’t we just go to your place?”

He isn’t expecting that, for some reason. He hadn’t expected any of this, not really. Had he gotten hit on the head very hard? Had he somehow slipped and fallen and concussed himself into a daydream where you were on his arm and asking to be brought to his house?

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” He finds himself saying, making you stop in your tracks.

“Am I?” You ask breathlessly, hope written all across your face, “Your girl, I mean.”

Time seems to stand still, then, as he walks you to his car. Like the whole world has formed and evolved and spun round and round the sun to build up right to this moment. Maybe he’s being dramatic, maybe he’s being too much, but he thanks the moon and the stars and the heavens above for whatever it was that led you to him, or him to you.

“If you want to be.” He whispers, afraid, so afraid this might all be some cruel trick of the universe, so afraid you might just be a vision of loveliness that exists only inside his head.

But then you’re blushing so pretty and squeezing his hand affectionately and reaching for the handle to the passenger side of his car, and then you’re laughing when he swats your hand away to open it for you, and then you’re beckoning him down as if to ask a question – only to place a chaste kiss to his lips instead.

“To your place then.” You whisper back, and Cameron feels his whole heart fly over the moon.

 The drive is spent with smiles, with hand-holding and kisses at red lights. It’s spent talking and singing loudly to the music on the radio, singing off-key, singing wrong lyrics to try and make the other laugh. It’s spent with secret glances that the other catches, both of you feeling giddy, like you’re high on life.

He rushes you to the front door so you don’t get drenched, when he parks in front of the apartment complex.

He kisses you in the elevator on the way to the sixth floor where his key always gets jammed in the lock.

He holds you up against the wall when he shuts the world away behind you.

His hands on your face leave for only a moment, only long enough to flick on the light-switch and illuminate the space of his living room, so that he knows where he’s throwing the wet clothes of your jacket, where he kicks off his shoes.

But you open your eyes when the lights turn on, and he worries he’s done something wrong when you gasp out, “Cameron holy shit.”

“What?” He pulls away, makes sure he didn’t accidentally step on your toes or anything like that, but you’re looking past him into the living room beyond in shock.

“This is a much nicer apartment than I thought you’d have.” You admit bluntly, making Cameron huff out a laugh.

“Hey!” He teases playfully, and you laugh too because no, that’s not how you meant it, you just meant,

“How can you afford something like this on the Medieval Times salary?” You ask, and he shrugs, scrubs the back of his neck.

“I don’t,” He says honestly, “I afford it with my production design salary.”

The news comes as even more of a shock to you, and you blink as you process everything.

The apartment is so contemporary, so modern. Upscale, with its light wood flooring and muted grey furniture. There’s a stone façade fireplace, and nervously, Cameron goes and turns it on, clicks the little timer so that if he gets lucky enough that you decide to stay, he won’t have to leave your side to shut it off. The ceiling is an interesting exposed wood structure, you’re chewing the inside of your lip with something like nervousness.

“You mean to tell me you were just dicking around at work?” You ask, and he feels like he’s been caught, feels like he’s being scolded, even though he isn’t, not really. You’re just trying to understand.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be fun to flex my acting muscles, since I’m taking that method acting class.” He explains, holding a hand out to you, wanting to take you to the bedroom.

You accept it easily, and he leads you through the apartment. It’s not very big, although it feels that way with the windows all over the place.

You’re laughing to yourself when you get to the bedroom. Not because it’s funny, exactly, but because it’s so completely outside the scope of what you thought it would be. The walls are soft browns and warm shades of grey, that invite you in and make you want to wrap yourself up in the blankets that look freshly washed. It’s so big, so spacious, so luxurious. There’s even a tray of champagne and two glasses resting on the plush bench at the end of the bed.

“You really meant it when you said the biggest, softest bed, huh?” You ask, because you have nothing more you can really even say, speechless in the best way.

“Damn straight I did.” Cameron says, nervous, fuck he’s so nervous, he hopes he didn’t ruin this somehow, hopes he didn’t scare you off with this somehow, “Do you still want to – ”

You cut him off with a hot kiss, your mouth searing on his.

It’s all the permission he needs to walk you to the bed, to strip away your clothes as you go. He’s kissing kissing kissing you, and before the both of you know it, the wet clothes are in a heap on the floor, and he’s gently guiding you up the bed, your whole body on display for him.

“Fuck, Cameron.” You groan, covering your face, “Oh this isn’t fair.”

“What? Are you okay -- ?” He asks, terrified for a moment, terrified until you’re reaching for him, demanding him to cover your body with his own.

“You’re so fucking handsome – dammit,” You bemoan, like you’re angry about it. It fills him with pride, so much pride, when you ask him to, “Come here.”

“You really think so?” He asks, desperate for you, for praise, as he rolls on a condom and lines himself up.

He knows you need more foreplay, he knows. But you’re so wet already, he can feel it when he dips his hands between your legs to test the waters, when he guides his hard cock to your pussy as you beg for him.

“Yes, I do, please, please fuck me – oh!” Your mouth drops open so beautifully for him when he nudges the head of his cock in, when he lifts and shifts your hips, shoves a pillow underneath it to keep your body at an angle that he knows will make you feel good as he sinks his cock into you. You’re moaning, hands already grabbing at his shoulders with breathy pants, “Yes, Cameron,”

“I like when you say my name.” He licks his lips, presses his face into your neck as he grinds his hips against yours, presses his dick deep into you and has to breathe evenly, has to bite down hard on your collarbone as he grunts and groans, “Say my name?”

“Cam!” You whine loud as he pulls out and thrusts back in, thrusting into your hot cunt for the first time, the very first time. Fuck, how long had you both thought of this? How long had you craved this? How many nights spent alone in your bed with your hands down your underwear, dreaming of this?

“Cam – er – on – oh shit.” He drags out each syllable of his name on his cock as he punches it out of you, and he feels like he’s going crazy, feels like he’s dying, because it’s so good, you’re so tight and perfect, you take him so well, you’re made for him.

“Tell me, tell me what you like.” He begs, wanting to make this good for you, wanting to satisfy you. He’s big, he knows he’s big, but he wants to show you that the pain of his stretch is worth it. Your pussy is so good that he has to keep his eyes shut, he doesn’t have the strength to open them as he thrusts into you, “Fuck, (Y/N), fuck!”

“Harder, you can go harder, I promise.” Your throat clicks with how wet it is, how you’re literally drooling for him, and that goes straight to his cock.

“Yeah?” He asks, shifting up onto his arms better, wanting to get a better grip, better leverage to pound into you.

And he does, and the smack of his skin against yours, the slap of it, echoes through the bedroom, bounces off the walls and makes him dizzy.

“Yeahyeahyeah, oh my god!” Your eyes fly open and he has no idea what’s just happened, not really, but he hits you in the same spot as he just did and you’re keening for him, absolutely fucking keening.

Your body is luminous under the dim lights of his bedroom, skin slick with sweat, your hair fanned out on his pillow like some wet dream – how was this not a dream? You clench around his cock and his arms almost give out, but he tries his best to ram that spot in you again and again, and soon your knees are coming up to dig into his sides as you babble.

“Oh fuck oh please, yes, yes Cameron!” You’re coming, just like that, right on his cock. You’re coming on his cock and he’s going to blackout, he’s sure of it, he’s going to pass out because nothing has ever felt so good as your cunt tight tight tight around him like this.

“I’m going to, can I?” He chokes out, but you’re still riding through the shocks of your own orgasm.

“Huh?” You ask, and he licks the sweat off his mustache, wants to lick all your come up right out of your pussy, he can feel it, he knows it’s there.

“Can I come?” He asks, begs, pleads, as his hips speed up and he starts to lose the rhythm of it, as he starts to unravel, that heat spreading through from his stomach, lighting all his veins on fire, “Please, please can I come?”

“Oh! Yes, yes Cameron, come.” You nod, encouraging him to pull out, encouraging him to snap the condom off and jerk himself all the way to his own orgasm when you smack your chest and demand, “Come on me, you can come on me.”

He kneels over you, and he doesn’t miss the way you ogle him, doesn’t miss the way you’re staring, as he jerks off paints your breasts with his come in a way that feels so primal, feels so raw, so real.

“Damn your tits look good like this.” He grunts, milking himself for the last bits of all he’s worth, wanting to impress you even with this, even with the size of his load.

“Rub it in.” You’re dizzy, you’re floating, but still you’re demanding, and with shaky hands he cups your tits and smears his thumbs through the sticky pearly fluid, rubs it into your skin just the way you’ve asked.

You hum, pleased, your hands reaching for him, bringing him down for a kiss. He pants against you, tries to catch his breath, tries to get his heartbeat under control because he’s afraid he’ll have a heart attack from how good that felt.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” He asks, when he can finally feel himself starting to settle down.

“Yeah?” You ask right back, shifting more comfortably in his bed big.

He thinks, that he could imagine you here forever, laying there, in his bed with him. He thinks he could imagine you falling asleep and waking up every morning, laughing and smiling and coming with him. He thinks he could, he knows he could. He’s been imagining it for so long, it’s thrilling in the best of ways to have you here, to have you actually reaching for him and holding him, not caring one bit about the mess you’re covered in.

Maybe one day he’ll ask you, when things aren’t so new. Maybe one day you’ll ask him, when you’re ready, when you think it’d be a good thing to do. But for now, he’s got a date to finish, and when you crack an eye open to look at him, he who still hasn’t said what it is he called your attention for, you’re smiling.

“What do you say to ordering dinner delivered?” He suggests, at the same time that your stomach growls loud loud loud, the two of you doubling over into chuckles, dissolving in a fit of laughter.

You hide your face in your hands in embarrassment, the relationship – which thrilled him to think about – still so new for all these silly things to still feel embarrassing, but you’re smiling, and when you peek through the gaps between your fingers, Cameron knows he’s really died and gone to heaven because you kiss him with an,

“I say, bring on the feast.”

-----------

Tagging some friends lol sorry u had to see this with ur own 2 eyes but also i dont care :^)  @adamsnackdriver​ @dreamboatdriver​ @kyloxfem​ @heldcaptivebychaos​  @solotriplets​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @lookinsidemyhead​ @candycanes19​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @the-wayward-rose​ @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee​ @riseofkylo​ @magikevalynn​ @tinyplanet-explorers​ @chelsjnov​ @romancedeldiablo​ @helloimindelaware​ @elfieboxcat​ @laurenshit​ @autumnlovesadam​​ @peterisparker​​ @mp938368 @hidingp​ @goodboybensolo​ @intrestellarsarah​ @the-marvelatic​ @miasera​ @emily-strange​

A Tale of Two Souls; Meeting Jaskier

Summary; As Geralt and Y/N continue to journey to their next location, they come across a Bard named Jaskier. From that moment onwards, Y/N's life is turned upside down. Her life is no longer envolving around fighting Monsters and exploring the world. Jaskier draws out emotions that she buried a long time ago. Who knows what's going to happen.  Pairing; Jaskier X Female Reader WordCount; 3,234 Warnings; A couple of swear words. Angst, Fluff 

Series Masterlist

Travelling with Geralt was a unique experience. On one hand, it was extremely rewarding, being able to travel to many beautiful and adventurous places, on the other hand, it often entitled getting covered in some sort of creature guts.

Apart from that Geralt's company was rather pleasant. Contrary to people's opinions about Witcher's; Geralt was not heartless nor a Monster instead, he could be kind and often put other's before himself. Over the years, Geralt had become like a brother to you, a very overprotective, menacing brother, who would willingly kill anyone, who ventured to mess with you.

"The Tavern is not too far from here. We will stop and have a drink." Looking ahead as you rode on your horse Tarot, Geralt was right, in the faint distance you could make out the Taverns silhouette.

"You mean I'll drink one while you attempt to drink the entire Tavern dry." You taunted. You were fortunate with Geralt, while he was not a massive talker, he was never easily offended. So ridiculing between the two of you was light and playful.

"You should learn to be quicker if you want more than one cup." Grinning, the two of you proceeded in silence as you made your way up towards the Tavern.

Entering any location with Geralt always had to be approached with caution. Any stranger was a potential contender for inherent conflict. The ancient tales of Witcher's had left everyone with a bitter attitude. People will often quick to require Geralt's services, yet the moment he entered the territory they deemed theirs they suddenly. considered it their right to throw stones and insults.

It occurred almost every location, the two of you visited. It disturbed you how willingly they were to ask Geralt to kill the Monster, but the second he required a place to eat or sleep they wanted nothing to do with him.

Tying up Roach and Tarot, you pressed a loving pet on Tarot's head. In the background, you could some sort of music a bard trying to get paid perhaps. Entering the Tavern, your suspicions were correct. As long as he frained an attempt to bother the two of you, he would be fine.

Taking a seat at the table in the darkest corner that was spare. You called the women over who was passing out the beverages. It was easier for you to ask, less eventuality for conflict. Removing two from her tray, you presented her with some coin to pay for them.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Geralt, I thought we already spoke of this. We take turns in paying for things. We are equal in this friendship. That means paying for things equally." Taking a sip of your mead, you acknowledged your surroundings. The Tavern wasn't all too bad. You and Geralt had frequented worst places, this by far was one of the finer ones.

"We'll have these and then go, try and find a place to camp for the night." You nodded, staying in one place was never a particularly wise idea. Besides, while the two of you stopped anyway, the two of you weren't able to find anyone who needed your services. 

Meanwhile, the Bard continued to sing. Unlike most Bards you previously encountered, this one could sing. His voice soothed your aching mind as you focused on the mead in the cup in front of you. The regulars who frequented the Tavern didn't seem to match with your opinions as they very quickly began to chuck bread rolls at him.

You attempted to force down the laughter that strived to leave your lips. Geralt's eyebrow raised as you forced your cup onto your lips to stifle your laughter. It was all fun and games, until out of the corner of your eye did you witness the Bard travel across the room over to you both.

"I love how you sit in the corner and brood, am I interrupting something?" The Bard questioned as you glanced over to Geralt. You had observed the expression on his unreadable face many times before. If only the Bard was as clued onto Geralt as you were. 

"We do not wish to be disturbed." Geralt explained, turning his head away from the Bard, while you decided to take a proper glance at him.

The Bard's eyes were a gorgeous shade of grey contrast to his brown hair which framed his face attractively. You didn't miss the thick patch of chest hair that threatened to escape his peaking from his jacket. Overall, the Bard was attractive.

"Good, yeah good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance. Except you two. Come on, you don't wanna keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less." Observing Geralt's signature eye roll, you knew the Bard was going to deal with Geralt's coldness.

The bard seemed unphased as he took the seat right next to you, anxiously anticipating Geralt's thoughts. Geralt was unpredictable, and you had no sign on how was going to reply to the Bard.

"They don't exist."

"What doesn't exist?" The Bard appeared genuinely confused, but you knew exactly the point Geralt was about to make. Taking a sip of the mead as you observed the conversation unfold. The conversation unfolding in front of your very eyes had been the most entertaining one you'd encountered in a while.

"The creatures in your song."

"Yeah, and how would you know.” 

"Oh fun, white hair, Big old loner, two very very scary looking swords. I know who you are." As Geralt stood to remove himself from the Bard, you quickly understood it was time to go. Picking up your sword and your bag, you threw it over your shoulder and followed Geralt.

"You're the Witcher? Geralt of Rivia. So if you're Geralt, then you must be Y/N, the enchanting Shieldmaiden. I must say words cannot truly describe your beauty. Called it!"

Within moments, you recognised that while the Bard was gifted in singing and flattery, digression was not one of his gifts. A simple rest top turned into work. One of the patrons named Netty, needed a Devil killing who was stealing their grain. Knowing well enough that the creature they had witnessed was not actually "The Devil" you didn't know quite what you meant to be searching for.

Walking besides Tarot, you followed Geralt quietly. At least the two of you had seemed to rid yourself of the Bard. Although the damage had been done. You presumed it was better than having stones thrown at you, or being chucked out. Besides a job is a job after all.

"Need a hand. I've got two, one for each of the Devil's horns." Out of no-where, the Bard came running down the hill. Perhaps walking away was not a distinct enough hint that Geralt was not willing for company.

"Go away."

"I won't be but a silent backup. Look I heard your note, and yes maybe real adventures would make better stories and you Sir smell choc-full of them amongst other things. I mean what is that Onion, it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak."

"It's onion."

"Right yeah. Oh, I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the butcher of Blaviken. What about you, my sweet lady? Surely you could tell me the many tales that the two of you have shared."

"Geralt it appears you have finally have a fan. Road life does not place well for a Bard. Go back to the Tavern. We'll deal with "the Devil"

"Jaskier, my name is Jaskier." Giving Jaskier a gentle smile, you quickened your step.

"It was lovely to meet you Jaskier, come on Tarot."  Walking away, you got several paces in-front of Geralt before he stopped. I thought he was trying to get away from Jaskier. As Geralt turned and glanced at Roach, you had a sinking feeling. This wasn't about to be pleasant.

"Come here."

A horrific thud, and a rattle of Jaskier's lute, he hunched over in agony. If that was not bad enough, Jaskier landed onto the ground with remarkable force. Credit it needed to be given you observed, Jaskier attempted to get up straight away. Against your better nature, you let go of Tarot's reigns to check on Jaskier.

"What have I told you about punching Bards? And you were my polite warnings not enough. Also, why do I get the feeling, you being punched happens a lot." Running a hand through your hair, you bent over to check on Jaskier. Surprisingly Jaskier was nothing but a little winded.

"He was following us, what else was I meant to do?" Setting eyes on Geralt, you cocked your eyebrow.

"I don't know perhaps telling him to leave us alone."

"Wasn't that exactly what you were attempting to do? With excellent failure might I add." Frowning at Geralt's words you rolled your eyes, while you directed your head to Jaskier, you did not miss the small twitch of Geralt's lips. At least someone was amused.

"Jaskier, as you have just experienced. Travelling with a Witcher is dangerous, especially to Bards. Now please return to the Tavern, where you will be safe from everything, including Geralt." Turning away from Jaskier, you mounted Tarot just like Geralt had done with Roach expecting to leave the Bard behind.

"Reading between the lines and the gut punches. Chum, I'd say you have a bit of an image problem. Were I to join you, on this feat to defeat the devil of Posada, I could I relieve you of that title. All the North would be too busy singing the tales of Geralt of Rivia the white wolf or something."

"Butcher is right." You frowned when Geralt said that. You were there when Geralt encountered Renfri you knew he had no choice. They forced him into a decision that was cruel and unfair.

"Geralt, we both know what happened that day was not your fault."

"Do you mind if I hop on there with you, I'm not exactly wearing the right footwear."

"Don't touch Roach." Several paces later, Geralt hoped off of Roach, tying her to a nearby tree. Following Geralt's actions, you joined Geralt by the tree.

"Stay alert and watch the Bard. We don't need a dead Bard on our hands." Agreeing with Geralt, you lightly touched his arm. Geralt never liked being touched, but he understood sometimes you needed to reassure him without saying anything. Following Geralt, you forgot Jaskier had recently joined the two of you.

"Geralt...Y/N...Geralt...Where are you going? Geralt, Y/N, don't leave me? Y/N I thought you were better than him. Hello. What are we looking for again?"

“Blessed Silence,”

"Yeah, I don't really go in for that." Laughter escaped your lips, walking silently alongside Geralt.

"Have you ever hunted a devil before Geralt?"

"Devil's don't exist."

"Then what are we doing?"

"Sometimes there are monsters sometimes there's money rarely both. That's the life."

Out of no-where, something darted past your head. Your senses heightened. Something or someone was out there, and they knew you were there.

“Shit!” Geralt yelled, examing Geralt understanding that as the unknown object darted past you, it had skimmed Geralt's forehead.

"Act two begins. What was that it looks like a tiny cannonball. Oh my gosh, Geralt it is a Devil. Oh, I have to see this magical this mythical-" Jaskier didn't get to finish his sentence as something hit him directly in the forehead and once again he hit the ground with a thud.

"Jaskier!"

"Stay with him I'll deal with Monster." Closing your eyes for a moment, you studied at Geralt.

"Geralt, I thought we made a deal." You contested, but Geralt was already marching away when he decided to stop and shift back to you.

"I agreed to stop hitting Bards."

"The other deal. The one where we deal with Monsters together. So neither of us die."

"I agreed to that when we didn't have to protect the Bard. That is your job. Long ago remember what we promised each other?"  

"To make this work, we needed to trust each other." With a hum, Geralt continued marching away, leaving you to deal with Jaskier. Kneeling beside him, you sighed.

"I did warn you in all fairness, but of course you didn't listen. Which means that you'll probably be staying with us, lesson one in being Geralt's companion. If something is thrown at you duck because they never throw only once."

"Lesson two, don't enter someone else's territory." An unknown voice broke your gaze on Jaskier's face. Something hard and heavy smacked your face, knocking you out.

Waking up, my body felt constricted. What happened? One moment you were giving an unconscious Jaskier his first lesson, the second you remember nothing but blackness. It didn't help someone else was trying to escape also.

"This is the part where we escape." You heard Jaskier's voice, at least he was awake, on your other side, you glanced down at the familiar black armour.

"This is the part where they kill us."

"Who's they?" A young female elf came out of no-where, kicking you directly in the face. The main was excruciating, as you opened and closed your jaw trying to get some feeling back into it. She was quick to kick both Geralt and Jaskier, not leaving anyone out.

"Elves."

"Hey that's my lute, give that back. Geralt, do ya Witchering"

"If it's that simple, do you think we'd be all tied up right now?" You snarled, trying to think of a way to get you out of this situation. Receiving another round of kicks, you glared at the female elf if you got free you swore she was going to pay for this. With the female elf speaking in Elvish, you translated it perfectly.

"Oh my elvish speech is rough I only got part of that."

"Humans shut up."

Jaskier spoke back in Elvish, and at that moment, you truly wanted to punch him.

"Do you wanna die right now?" The female elf spoke, turning in Jaskier's direction, trying to make eye contact with him.

"Jaskier, I will buy you a new lute if you just shut up."

"As opposed to later." Geralt snarled. You were beginning to wonder, how you were calm, while the other two were terrified.

"No please not the lute." All of you received another kicking, yours this time aimed perfectly at your chest.

"Leave off he's just a Bard, and she's just a young woman." Unfortunately, the female elf didn't take too kindly to Geralt's words, punches began hitting him repeatedly in the face.

"Leave him alone! What did he do to you? Nothing. We were just walking through, enjoying the scenery." The female elf stopped punching Geralt, turning her focus directly onto you.

"You don't deserve the air you breathe. Everything you touch you destroy." The female elf began to punch after punch directly across your face, but you kept still. Each punch caused the other elf in the corner to snap the lute. Throwing her knee up until your face, you hissed.

"You hide in your golden palaces, beat a bound man and a woman too scared to even look at them in the eye," Jaskier yelled as you rested your head back, working your hands to find his. This was never meant to be his problem to deal with.

"Do you like my golden Palace. Hmm, does it live up to the tales you humans tell?" As she gripped Geralt's jaw, he took the time to headbutt her. She landed a distance away from us, fair enough for the beatings to stop for now.

"Wait what's wrong with her?"

"She's sick."

"Oh, who's this?"

"He's Filavandrel, King of the elves."

"You were stealing from them." The Devil looking creature, explained the situation between the elves and the humans. How they were forced out of their homes, and have to use a Slyivian to do their bidding.

"No-one was supposed to get hurt."

"What's three humans in the ground? When countless elves have died."

"One human, the other's complicated."

"Thanks for that Geralt."

"Let them both go."

"Then Posada will know that we've been stealing. Humans will attack, many will die on both sides."

"The lesser evil. No matter what you chose, you'll come out bloody and hating yourself. Trust me." Geralt's words stung. Knowing that after all this time, he was unable to see himself just as you saw him hurt you in unimaginable ways. "Well that's the problem, I can't, and this is necessary."

"I understand, as long as you understand that it won't be long before you follow me in death."

"Yes, because they pushed us from viable soil, even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic."

"Chaos is the same as it's always been. Humans just adapted better."

"You say adapt, and I say destroy."

"You are choosing to starve, your cutting off your ear to spite your face."

"You think this is about pride. My elders worked with humans and got robbed of all they had. When they fought back, they were slaughtered. The great cleansing humans called it. I called it digging a mass grave. For everyone I loved. Now the humans proudly watch these fields, grow. Our babies fertilizer for their grain. I don’t wish to bury anyone else. I was once Filavandrel of the Silver towers, now I’m Filavandrel of the edge of the world. If I bring my people down from the mountains, it would mean bowing to humans. They’ll make slaves of us”

"Then go somewhere else. Rebuild, get strong again. Show the humans that you are more then what they fear you to be."

“Like you Witcher.”

"Not too long ago, I felt like you. I was angry at the entire world, the situations I was placed in. The way my life turned out. I saw the good in no-one. Until Geralt found me one day. Geralt taught me to accept everyone, no matter what they have done to you in the past." You informed Filavandrel only the top of a very long and complicated story.

“She's right. I have learnt to live with them. It wasn't easy, but I realised to live,I needed to learn to deal with them."

"Please my King there are others a new generation, of us that wish to fight. Let us take back what's ours. Starting with now." Filavandrel released his knife never in your wildest dreams could you imagine did you imagine dying with Geralt and a newfound Bard.

"Wait, the Witcher could have killed me, but he didn't. He's different. Like us." Torque was shoved aside by Filavandrel.

"If you must kill me. I am ready. But the Slyivan’s right, don’t call me human."

Hearing Geralt so willing to die, broke your heart into smithereens as you stared down in your lap to prevent anyone from the tears that escaped your eyes. You didn't need to look at Geralt to know he was currently staring at the blade. Waiting anxiously for your fate, in a way you were almost glad that Filavandrel had decided to kill you all. It was better than dealing with Geralt afterwards.

One.

Two

Three.

Thud.

II

There's a slow, burning tension in his leg. It pulses, aches, like a knot strung too tightly around some distant extremity, the pain reverberates through his bones and marrow and finally congeals somewhere in his head. Dizziness threatens to suffocate and lethargy pools with his blood; he's too distracted to notice the newfound scrapes and tears trailing up his torso.

His helmet weighs heavy against his chest. He stirs, struggling to pull his head up. He stares blearily at his boots, only half-noticing the binds that tie them. He glances at his leg, which by all accounts should be splattered against moonrock, only to find freshly applied bandages instead. A fibery gauze has been wrapped underneath his clothing, snug and bloody.

He tries to pull himself upward, but his muscles reject him. His back falls onto a rocky surface behind him, followed by his hands and elbows, both also bound.

"Morning."

He freezes. White noise gnaws at the following silence. Adrenaline shoots through him, his fingertips lighting up with stars, but no matter the strain, no matter the exertion, he still can't fucking move. It takes all of his willpower to jut out his chin just enough to get a better angle, to peer out from behind his mask to find the voice, and in the end the tendons in his neck scream nearly as loud as the bullet wound. His effort is finally rewarded with the sight of a terran sitting atop a storage device in front of him, a thermos in one hand and his own gun in the other. She smirks at him.

Recognition comes slow. The memory of how he got here is trudging behind. Still, when the other shoe drops, so does his gut. He tenses, fighting against the ropes, only for a headache to strike back with a vengeance.

Skullcap droops.

His target sneers.

She says, "I was worried you might not wake up. Some people don't."

She leans forward, the gun not leaving her hip. She squints.

"Seems like the paralyzer's still in you some. I'll have to let my tox man know."

Skullcap says nothing.

"It'll probably fade," she says. She sips at her drink, shrugging. "If it doesn't, well, I can at least say I tried to opt for mercy."

She sits, waiting. Her eyes roll over him, like she's sizing him up. She adjusts the gun ever so slightly, taking a glance at it. Skullcap keeps his mouth shut.

"I knew you were coming. I mean, obviously. What'd he say, 'alive, not dead?' Bet he wants a crack at me himself." She laughs, tilting her thermos back.

As she swallows, she goes silent, almost expectantly so. She tilts her head, pursing her lips. The back of her heel bounces off of her seat.

"You're making this so boring. The silent, intimidating thing doesn't work on me, babe. I've already got you cornered." She sighs. "Come on, don't you have any questions for your predecessor? Or were you just going to shoot me down?"

Skullcap doesn't have an answer for that. He watches her, his head hung low. His hands clasp and unclasp behind him.

She scoffs.

"If you're not going be any fun about this--"

"How do you figure this is mercy?"

Vaira's brows raise. Then she huffs a laugh.

"For one thing, I didn't take your silly little helmet off."

He sighs. It teeters on relief.

"That, and you're still breathing. Moron." She swings her legs. "Is it not enough that I wanted to meet you? I hear he's put quite a bit of stock in you."

Skullcap bristles.

"Though," she says, "he did send you on a bit of a suicide mission."

He clears his throat. "How's that?"

"Either he overestimates you or he underestimates me. And I'm fairly certain it's not the latter." She examines her nails. "The way I see it, it's more than likely there's a bug on your ship. Aside from the literal vermin you keep, of course. They're tracking you, so if you end up keeling over somewhere, they've got a better idea of where I am."

This flood of information is too much at once. He hesitates, processing. His kneejerk response is defensiveness. "It's... not vermin."

She laughs. "Do you even have a license for that thing? If it's your partner, you know you'd need a contract with the guild, yeah?"

Her words buzz around in Skullcap's head. They refuse to stick. He just stares at her, adjusting his arms.

She waves dismissively. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. Besides, we've gotten so off track anyhow." In a quick gesture, she leans behind her, his gun unmoving. She plucks a tablet out from somewhere, scanning through it.

"Shocked we couldn't get a proper name on you. I would've dug further, but," she gestures to her surroundings. "Let's see. God, Typhor? Of all places? I suppose that was a given, but... still." She grimaces.

She glances up at him, scrutinizing. She adds, as if speaking to herself, "I wonder if he pulled you by your scruff from the dunes or if you actually wax pious. I've seen those scars of yours; my initial assumption feels apt, but I could be wrong. Either way, he's got you hooked somehow."

Skullcap pushes himself forward, heat gathering in his throat and jaw. "Now, look--"

"--You've had some decent jobs," she says, as if he'd said nothing at all. "But you've also had some real shit ones. I heard you shot someone in court." She clicks her tongue.

He stifles a groan. "None of this is any concern to you. It isn't your business."

"Honey," she says. "I've already strip-searched you. And dressed your wound--"

"From your bullet."

"--Which was an act of kindness on my part that none will see the likes of again. May I remind you, you were sent to disable me, or perhaps even kill me, so therefore I consider myself privy to all your dirty little secrets. Unless you'd like to do something about it?"

Skullcap stares at her. She leers.

"I thought not. Now, where were we?"

"Can you just cut to the goddamn chase? Please? If you're gonna kill me, get on with it, but if not--"

"Do they not have rapport in Typhor? Or do they just shoot people down like bloody dogs when they disagree?"

Skullcap's head tilts, indignant. She sighs.

"I suppose you're right. Even still, there's nothing wrong with a little conversation. I'd prefer that over a bullet in my head. And it's not like you introduced yourself. You just stormed into what you assumed was my hideout, gun drawn. Where are you manners, Skully?"

They watch each other wordlessly. Her nails tap rhythmically against the aluminum of her thermos. Her brow is quirked. His helmet hangs low, his eyes cast over in shadow. If no one knew any better, it'd be easy to assume there was nothing behind the gaping holes of his headwear at all.

It dawns on him that she, however, isn't so easily fooled. It's like she stares right through him, past the metal and chrome. Like her pupils are little scalpels, probing and dissecting. He believes that she's true enough to her word, that she didn't remove it, only because he's not sure if it would even matter if she had. She's playing like she's already seen everyone else's hand, and yet the only other player at the table that's losing is him.

He grunts. She huffs a laugh.

"Perhaps they don't teach you any of those on Typhor either." She shifts her legs, refolding them. "Would you prefer that I go first?"

Silence. He is trying to stop himself from sinking lower onto the floor.

"Very well." She straightens herself, extending her hand as if she wasn't several meters away and his hands weren't already bound. "Allow me to make your acquaintance. My name is Vaira Talwar and I'll be your mark this evening. Welcome to my home away from home."

Vaira gestures to the cave surrounding them. The humidity compresses into him; he's able to make out a distant dripping of water. The caves probably lead to a reservoir, or something of that nature. Must be how she's survived.

"I'm sure you've met my partner on the way in. She was very excited to meet you."

He stutters then, as if buffering. His helmet raises to see her better; her expression is stone, smug. He was warned of no accomplice. Her eyes brighten considerably, as if the helmet's somehow conveyed his alarm. Her mouth twists into a smirk.

She sets her drink down, raising her fingers to her lips. She whistles a sharp, airy sound unlike anything he's ever heard, and in an instant, the dim light behind him is blotted out by a massive silhouette. The shadow cuts through the cave's stilled air as dust swarms behind it, loose particles filtering in from underneath his helmet. He coughs through it, unable to wave away space to breathe, and once the debris settles and his breath is steady enough to see, he is filled with a deep understanding, one that piles onto to the preexisting load of dread hanging in his chest.

Vaira's arm is outstretched, covered with a metallic sleeve he doesn't remember seeing her put on. It's armored fabric, perfectly able to support the massive talons of her apparent partner. The thing's feathered head tilts at him, brassy and angular. Its beak comes to a wicked point and, at a passing glance, seems to have been gilded with gold. Vaira clicks her tongue at it and it shrieks, its golden eyes not leaving him. She places the gun down long enough to run her fingers through its feathery chin.

"Aquila, Skullcap. Skullcap, Aquila." She leans forward, cupping her hand over her mouth as if relaying a secret. "And of course, she's a guild member. Licensed and everything. I'd hate to get fined, or worse!" She barks a laugh. The eagle ruffles its feathers.

Skullcap simmers. Of course, she takes notice.

"Come on. Don't be so chuffed. It's not my fault they didn't warn you, is it?" She adjusts her arm and Aquila shimmies to her shoulder. Vaira points to her claws. "If you're wondering what exactly you've got running through you, take a look."

At second glance, the points of the bird's central nails shift into an almost transparent finish; a middle-ground between grey and pink. They're hooked inward and almost... hollow looking. Like fangs, he realizes. The weight from his chest spreads through him like nausea.

Vaira, unphased, coos at the monster upon her shoulder. It preens in return, chittering from somewhere within its throat.

"I've always been the type to work from above," she says, "but Aquila can see what even I can't. It's why we work together so well." Vaira pauses, not once casting a wayward eye back to Skullcap. "I've got a mate who distills her toxins. The bullet breaks down with its own velocity and melts like butter on impact. Penetrates, but not enough to shred through entirely. Just enough to dig through to an artery."

She turns back to him now, her grin slow and easy. "It's a bounty hunter's best friend."

Skullcap opts to stare. He would rather not give her the satisfaction.

Her expression gradually flattens. Her eyes roll. She shakes out her shoulder and Aquila jumps, swoops over him, and perches behind his rock; her shadow looms before him.

"I weep for our mutual friend's taste. Seems like it's worsened since I knew him. Maybe he thinks boring would keep him safer. Or at least, less likely to lose his new favorite toy."

"I'm mostly wondering what this is all leading up to."

She pauses. "Oh?"

"At this point," he says, "You've had ample chances to kill me. Between your gun, my gun, and whatever the hell she is, the way I see it, you're either stalling or you're lonely."

Vaira's brows raise. Her lips purse. Skullcap can't quite read her expression. He talks past it regardless.

"So," he says, "which is it? You keep talking about him, but as far as I'm concerned, you're the one who ran out on him. Just now figuring out crime doesn't pay?"

Her cheeks twitch. The corners of her lips draw deeper into her face, panning out into a barely restrained simper, before the first peal of laughter escapes her lungs entirely. She's overwhelmed just as quick, nearly doubling over and off her seat. He watches her wipe a false tear from her cheek with her shooting hand's pinkie and even as she composes herself, she's racked with occasional chuckles.

"You think--" she pauses to laugh, "--You think I'm lonely? You think I'm lonely because I quit my job?"

"Now I didn't say that."

Vaira throws her head back. She leans forward again with an amused sigh, shaking her head.

"Listen babe. You've got me all wrong. Let me tell you something." She leans forward, almost conspiratorial. Her voice drops to a whisper. "I've never felt more free in my goddamn life."

She drops her legs from the container, sliding off into a stand. She takes a step closer, his gun dangling at her thigh.

"And maybe," she says, "maybe if you'd open your eyes for once, you'd see I'm trying to pay you a fucking kindness. Mercy, remember?"

He squints. "I don't follow."

Vaira takes a deep, dramatic breath. Her thumb digs into her brow. "Fuck, mate. Are you really this dense? I'm trying to give you an out."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Do you even hear yourself?" She scoffs. "Of course I've had ample time to kill you. I could've done it a dozen times now." She lifts the gun, shuts an eye and takes aim. "Bang. You're dead. Or, bang," she points somewhere lower, "Dead again. It's so easy I could do it in my fucking sleep. But I haven't. Because here's the part you're missing, you stupid arsehole; we can be of mutual aid to each other."

He feels like she's struck him across the helmet with the gun. He works through the false tinnitus.

"What about any of this is mutual?"

"Must I spell it out for you?" She rolls her eyes, taking a step forward. "I'm letting you live. I'm letting you live so that you can let me live. And if we're lucky, we can both get out of this rotten deal we've found ourselves in."

"You mean... this?"

"No," she says, "his deal."

He hesitates, considering this for a moment. "There's no deal. I'm a freelancer."

"I thought that too. Like I said; I'm your predecessor, mate. In every sense." Her expression shifts. Humor leaves her in waves. "I was independent until, one day, I woke up and I wasn't."

They hadn't told him that, either.

"So, what?" He shifts his weight, the joints of his hands afflicted by pins. "You just up and left?"

She turns to stare at him for a moment. "How long have you been under his employment?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"I'm gauging how I'll answer. You go first."

His breath gets caught between a groan and a sigh. Every exchange is a new defeat.

"Two jobs," he says.

For an instance, a fragment of a second, something close to sympathy--or empathy?--softens her features. As soon as it comes, her natural sharpness returns.

"Then you don't know what he is. You can't see how deep in it you are yet."

"So," his brow furrows behind the helmet, "you're saying that if I help you now, you'll be doing me some favor by... what, saving me from the very same man that hired me to catch you?"

"Something along those lines."

"Right," he says. "Alright. Question."

"Shoot."

"Is your head screwed on right?" He lifts his neck, measuring his own strength. "How dumb do you think I am?"

A laugh rumbles in her chest in spite of his tone. "I don't think you want me to answer that."

"Har har." He huffs. "Can we be serious? I mean, why in the name of anything would I believe you, Kingfisher? After all of this?"

She brushes her hair back. She inhales slow. "Look. I know this seems like a classic case of the devil you know versus the devil you don't, but I'm trying to play in good faith. I'm turning a new leaf, yeah? I don't know how much of my reputation you've caught wind of, but--"

"--You killed eight people. Nine, if we're counting the decoy from the cave. 'Far as I know, that's all I need to know."

"Eight still," she replies, "But even then, they were eight bad people. Eight people who have been around him much longer than I have and still want nothing more than to exist in his shadow, hoping he'll even pass a glance towards them." She purses her lips with a sigh through her nose. "I'm not naive nor insane enough to suggest that what I did set them free, that it was justified somehow, but if I was so deluded as to fall completely victim to his bullshit like that, I'd rather die."

He hums. "Is this supposed to get me to believe you?"

She rubs the bridge of her nose. "Alright. Sure. Think of me as awful or evil or whatever the hell you want. Go on. I don't need to explain myself to you and, quite frankly, I don't care to." She shifts, jutting a finger out at him. "But I need you to know--to realize--that whatever you think I am or however you see me, he's ten times as bad. He's the worst kind of person there is, hell, even calling him a person would be an undeserved compliment."

He watches her jaw clench, the strain of the tendons in her cheeks. Her gaze drifts, following a thought unseen, before she trains herself upon Skullcap again.

"He's a monster," she says. "The kind that makes running with an inevitable bounty seem like a far better alternative."

A chorus of thoughts speak over each other, everything suddenly hurtling toward him too quickly. It muddles together, registering more like the echo of blood against the shell of his ear. His focus becomes overwhelmed by parsing through each voice before it dissolves into nothing, his judgement clouds over. He feels himself approaching a threshold of a decision, whether to believe her or not, and while his senses scream at him to deny her, to resolve himself against her, there's something else there, something that's pleading with him to hear her out. It comes anytime he looks at her now, anytime she stares back, and despite her hard expression, despite the tension in her frame, her eyes refuse to settle. They wander, searching, almost uncertain. Or desperate, he thinks. He's seen desperate before in marks, but not quite like this. Not quite so... reliant.

Frustration burns like acid in his gut, rising through his chest and drying his tongue and he's not sure if it comes from her or his own mental strife. His boot wiggles in its binds.

"If you were anything like me," she says, like she's read his mind, "you'd have your eye on this gun. You'd be waiting for me to slip up, for my grip to falter. Waiting for your chance. You wouldn't even be listening to me, you'd just watch and wait."

"Look--"

"--But you're not like me. I've read your files. I studied your cases, waiting for you to show up. I had a hard time figuring out what drives you at first, but I'd neglected to consider Occam's razor. A good shooting hand can pay for most meals, can't it?"

He doesn't respond.

"But you don't go for the messy jobs. You'd rather take shit pay for something that'll let you sleep at night. Sure, you're a killer, but you've got a conscience. More than most of us can say for ourselves."

"What's your point," he says.

"You want to know what I'm saving you from?" She lowers herself to her haunches in front of him, her forearms resting over her knees. "I'm saving you from becoming like me. So you don't have to look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how your decent heart ever turned so black."

He mulls on that. The flood of thoughts have softened to an erratic buzz.

He clings to his instincts, clearing his throat. "But you don't care about that. You're not even doing this for me. You're doing it to get an extension on your clock. And at the same time, you want to drag me down with you." He pauses. "I'll end up like you all the same. Running for the rest of my life."

Her brow twitches. "Isn't that better than losing your integrity? Or, hell, your sense of self?"

He isn't sure. The acid builds.

He shakes his head, pushing his doubt away. "The way you talk about him like that, it--it's ridiculous. I've got no reason to suspect him the way you say."

A memory unclogs itself and bubbles upward, but his trust is an ever-moving metronome. He hesitates, uneasy. He swallows harshly before opting to share. "You were right. He wants you back breathing. But he didn't seem angry so much as he seemed... disappointed. Or something between the two."

Her eyes narrow. "Betrayed?"

"Kinda," he says. "The impression I got was he wanted to, well, negotiate your terms."

Vaira's brow creases. No words follow. She instead focuses intently on his helmet, almost studious, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

"All I'm saying is--"

"--You're wrong," she says. "Your impression was wrong. You were lied to."

"How do I know that? Better yet, how do I know you aren't lying?"

"I don't have any reason to lie. I could've just killed you."

"You have every reason to lie," he says. "But I reckon that's a fair point."

"If you're so concerned with thinking I'm bullshitting you, then I'd like to make myself tremendously clear, for a moment. If we're being honest and all that."

Her voice lowers. She leans forward. "If you decide to take him at his word and bring me back to him, if it even crosses your mind, I swear to everything in my life I hold dear that I will not stop fighting you until one of the two of us is dead. And if you get the upperhand somehow, if you get your chance, I want you to promise me you won't miss."

He flinches. The air gets caught in his chest.

She adds, "They'll punish you less for that, if it helps. Better to lose one plaything than two."

The thoughts in his head have gone quiet all together. The metronome's gears grind.

He speaks again after a spell. "Say I believe you," he measures his words carefully. "Say I'm in. What then?"

Her expression clears ever so slightly. "Then we find the bug on your ship."

"My ship," he repeats.

"The three of us won't fit in mine," she says, simply. "We find it, tear it out, and leave it here. They'll send someone else in your place and by that time, we'll be long gone. I know a few good hiding spots, I'm sure you do too. You can drop me off somewhere, if it so bloody pleases you. It's easier for you; no one knows your face, your name. I could change mine I suppose, maybe swap species entirely."

"You might have the cash for something like this. But I sure as hell don't."

Vaira snickers. "Well, that's easy. I'm greedy, not stingy."

"We're still fucked, Kingfisher, no way around it."

"You've been fucked," she says. "You've been fucked since he found you as my replacement. I'm trying to unfuck you, 'Cap. This is our only chance."

His helmet lulls. Anxiety leeches the warmth from his hands.

"You offered a pretty good deal earlier, you know. If I shoot you, everybody gets off square, justice gets dealt. This shit fades, we'll be in my ship, I get a gun and it's over. What's to stop me from doing that?"

"You won't," she says.

"I won't," he repeats.

"No." She's smirking now, white glinting past her lips. "Because you're not like me."

His head jerks back. "What's that got anything to do with it?"

"For starters, you didn't notice that I lowered the gun ages ago."

His eye follows her arm. His gun sits between her knees, rocking back and forth, its grip held loosely between her thumb and index finger.

Skullcap exhales slow.

"That ain't any fair."

She snaps the gun back into her palm before he decides to prove her wrong. It's twirled into the holster on her leg and she stands with it, her hands finding her hips. She towers over him, shifting her weight to one leg.

"What is, in this business?"

From the ground, he isn't in a position to argue with that. He redirects instead.

"You sure keep acting like my opinion matters any, like I got some say."

"You're not a hostage," she says. "We'd be working together."

"Sure doesn't feel like it from here."

Vaira hums. "Do you trust me?"

"What do you think?"

"Then the feeling's mutual," she says. "And until you trust me, I can't trust you. But."

"But?"

"I'd like to. And I understand that earning your trust is not an easy feat, but we can work on it."

He laughs dryly through his nose. "You could start by untying me."

"You're so cute." She sighs. "Fine. Little by little. I'm not such a hard arse that I'll drag you there again this time. I'll free your legs once I'm ready."

"On the flip side of things, then." He readjusts, finally able to bend his knees through the binding. "What if I say no?"

She shrugs. "Would you prefer being left to die?"

He gestures loosely with his shoulders. "But wouldn't that be easier? What exactly do you gain from taking me?"

Her head tilts. She narrows her eyes, as if in thought. Her cheek twitches.

After a moment she says, "I'm not entirely sure." She sucks air through her teeth. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am lonely. It's nice having someone to talk to after so long. Or, well, someone who talks back." She glances at the shadow behind him. "Sorry, my love."

The bird snaps its beak.

Skullcap dwells on her words. It was an intuition he'd pulled out from somewhere, but with hindsight, perhaps it'd been projection. For the first time he considers if this is some universal hunter experience, why so often those of his creed join together as a group. He reflects on his many hours spent within silence, between his own breath and the groan of his ship's hull. Sometimes he didn't mind it. Sometimes he did.

He wonders how Vaira spends her time alone. He wonders how she copes.

These ideas come at a surprise to him and he wills them away. They recede, but not far.

"Right." She bursts through his bubble and he jerks back into focus. "Well, I'm going to collect my things. Let me know what you decide. Or if you, ah, need anything."

She turns on her heel, stepping beyond the storage device, deeper into the cave. He hears the pull of metal across dirt and rock, the opening and closing of clasps unseen. Her head bobs distantly, wandering deeper into the stretch of cavern than he realized initially existed.

Aquila's nails drag across the rock above him, as if to remind him of her presence. He doesn't concern himself with it. Instead, he deflates with a breath he hadn't realized had accumulated, shrinking into the stone at his back. Neither his judgement nor his morals have any answers left to give him now. He visualizes his thoughts as a mass of white, intangible and empty. He opts to go limp, then, letting his head fall back with a clunk as he stares at the clusters of moonrock above.

He can't help but ask himself what she would do in his position. Then he realizes, of course, she'd already given him her answer. A gun provides an easy solution to any ethical dilemma.

Her earlier threat suddenly returns to him and settles anew, like something raw in his stomach. He suppresses a shudder. Skullcap has to remind himself that easy does not always mean just. Too many unanswered questions. Too much doubt.

His thoughts then, naturally, turn to the emperor. Skullcap cannot reconcile his own predicament with even the smallest proximity to Zusk; it's like his parts can't fit right in the picture, like if he willed it, the matter would simply dissolve before him. But as he considers it, he can't quite visualize how Zusk would address any transgression against him. The various middle men he's sent to deal with Skullcap can only convey so much about him, let alone his motives. Vaira's bias threatens to sway him; was that his intent all along? Or just an inadvertent flaw illuminated by hindsight?

Skullcap didn't know. He doesn't know. The uncertainty churns away at his insides and his knuckles dig into his forearms. He isn't sure what's worse: stuck, forced idle, waiting at an unknown precipice or not knowing which way he'd run even if he could.

So he opts to breathe. To focus on each breath as if it were his last, to savor them like a last meal. Every inhale welcomes a new exhale, another tick of the clock that he can claim as his own, something definitively his.

Until he's forced to move, to act, at least he will have this. At least this solution was still his own.

Gracidea Blossom Chapter 3: Measuring Up Against Meditite

(Pokémon Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum x Little Busters!)

Mirror Links: AO3, Pokécommunity, Spacebattles

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Previous - Next

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A world of total darkness. No touch. No sound.

The only thing reminding him he exists is the pressure, like a vise clamping down on his head.

Even his thoughts stall as he falls through this endless void. He doesn’t dream.

He never dreams.

…

Time passes, and eventually the throbbing in his head begins to fade. The ability to think returns to him. He becomes aware of his senses again.

Touch, first. He can feel of his hands pressing into smooth sheets.

Then hearing. After that void, even the soft sound of breathing feels like a salvation.

His head still feels heavy, but he can move his fingers now. He’s regaining control of his body.

Riki opens his eyes.

He’s in the guest room of the Natsume residence. Rin is asleep in a nearby chair, her body curled in on itself as she slumbers. A glance at the clock tells Riki that it’s 9 in the evening, but after his narcoleptic spell, he doesn’t feel tired enough to sleep properly.

Quietly, so as to not disturb his friend, Riki slips out of bed and pads to the hall. When he reaches the living room, he finds Kyousuke sitting there.

“Ah, Riki. So you’re up.” Kyousuke turns in his seat. “Masato and Kengo have gone home for the day, but I have a list of what preparations are left. There were a couple of things we needed you for.”

“Oh. Um…” Riki doesn’t meet his eyes. “Are you… really sure that me going with you is going to be okay? I mean, I didn’t speak up before, but…”

“…But what if you fall asleep on the road?” Kyousuke finishes for him. “Don’t worry, Riki, I knew about this when I made the offer. When that happens, we can just make camp and wait for you. We don’t have so little time that we can’t afford to cut a day’s travel early here and there.”

“Oh. Well, if you’re sure… I do still want to stay with all of you,” Riki says.

For a moment, Riki thinks he sees a shadow pass over Kyousuke’s face. It’s gone so quickly, though, that he decides he must have imagined it.

“Right. Just think of it as another one of our adventures, and I’m sure you’ll have fun.” Kyousuke gets up from his seat, and shows Riki a list with most of the items crossed off. “If you don’t want to go back to sleep just yet, we can try and take care of the last preparations right now.”

Riki nods. “Yeah, I don’t feel tired. Oh, but you should probably get Rin to bed before we leave. That chair doesn’t look too comfortable.”

And so the night goes on…

——

The next morning, the friends gather by a fountain at the west end of town. Here, the bricks of Hearthome slowly give way to grass and pine trees, and a stone path leads the rest of the way out of the city. Most people leaving the city use one of two gate buildings: A small one to the east leads towards Solaceon Town, while the west end has a larger building with exits to the south and west.

The western gate is a three-story building, with a rest area on the second floor. Along with being a place for exhausted trainers to rest their legs, the second level also has souvenir shops and a food court. The top floor is a small hotel with fairly cheap rooms, for travelers who come in at night and don’t want to search for a place in the city.

The ground floor is somewhat more utilitarian, with a few stalls selling travel supplies. Stretches of empty wall are covered with large maps, some showing the travel routes of the Sinnoh region while others detail the layouts of Hearthome, Route 208, and Route 212. The maps are broken up by wall-mounted TV screens, turned to weather and news channels. Travel advisories scroll across the bottoms of the screens. ‘If traveling south, be sure to bring waterproof gear!’ ‘Never attempt to climb Mt. Coronet without a buddy!’

Riki and his friends pass by these sights, stopping to check the weather - apparently, there’s a northeasterly wind blowing in fog from Route 210 - and make sure their backpacks are secure.

When they reach the split between the way south and the way west, Riki speaks up. “So, um…” He scratches his head. “…Where are we going?”

Kyousuke stumbles, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “D…didn’t I tell you?” He looks at Rin, who shrugs. “…Right… Well. Ahem. Our current destination is Jubilife City, to the west. Jubilife TV requested that the Champion appear for a talk show, and I already had plans to visit Lake Verity, so it’s on the way.”

“A talk show? Really?” Kengo gives Kyousuke a flat look.

“Hey, anything that pays! I won’t be able to coast on being Champion forever, I need to build a varied resumé!”

“…Right…”

The Little Busters pass through automatic doors into Route 208. Just west of Hearthome City is a small hilly area, with well-maintained grass and berry patches scattered through it. The area gets wilder the further you go from the city, but young aspiring Trainers can usually practice here without too much to worry about as long as they turn back rather than climbing when they hit the rocky base of Mt. Coronet. Normally the mountain is visible from the gatehouse, but today the route is already partially hidden by a light mist. The world feels smaller under the grey sky and close horizon, like it’s been cut into manageable pieces.

A shout stops the group. “Well, if it isn’t our young Champion and friends!” An old man with white hair waves them over to where he’s tending a patch of berry plants. There’s a wicker basket at his feet. “And where would you be off to this fine morning?”

“We’re heading to Jubilife,” Kyousuke replies.

“Ah, these two finally starting out to see the world?” The old man looks Riki and Rin over. “That’s good. Everybody should travel with Pokémon sooner or later. There’s nothing like a journey for figuring out what you really want to do with your life, even if that doesn’t turn out to be battling.”

“Ah… right.” Riki looks away, unsure how to tell him that he’s just following after Kyousuke.

“Kyousuke gave you starters, I presume?” The man glances at Riki and Rin’s waists, where each now wears a belt with two Pokéballs.

“That’s right,” says Kyousuke. “Show him.”

Lennon and Terra are sent out, and the two Pokémon nose at the berry plants before wandering back to their trainers’ legs. The old man looks on in approval.

“They look like a good choice. I can tell they like you already!” He leans down to offer Terra a berry, and after a moment of hesitation the Turtwig extends its neck to take the fruit from the old man’s hand. “Now, then. You remember what I taught you, right, Riki?” At Riki’s nod, the man turns and procures something from his basket. “Well, if you’re setting off, I think you deserve a present. Here!” He hands Riki a pair of firm, speckled blue berries. “Those are Yacha berries. If you give one to your Turtwig, it should help her resist an Ice type attack. And for the young lady, Passho berries. I can’t say I recognize that cat’s species on first glance, but it looks like a Fire type, so a berry that helps protect against Water types can’t hurt!” He hands Rin a soft blue berry, dotted with air bubbles. After another moment of looking through his basket, he also gives them a paper bag of mulch. “That’s two berries each - one for your Pokémon, and try and plant the other one, okay? It never hurts to give nature a hand!”

“Thank you.” Riki stashes the berries and mulch in his bag, and bows slightly in gratitude. “I promise, I’ll find someplace nice to plant this.”

“Good, good! Well, I shouldn’t keep you for too long, but when you’re in the area, remember that the Berry Master’s door is always open!” The old man waves them off, and the group moves on, their Pokémon following behind. Occasionally a wild Pokémon seems like it might investigate them, but Kyousuke, Masato, or Kengo always calls out one of their own Pokémon to scare it away.

The terrain grows rougher as they head west, until they reach a rocky cliff with stairs carved into it. This is the base of Mt. Coronet, with rocky plateaus of various elevations stretching out for a short ways around the foot of the mountain before the ascent proper begins. A river has carved its way through this area of the foothills, running below the elevated paths and necessitating a series of wooden bridges between raised plateaus. As the morning stretches on, the mist grows heavier, wreathing the badlands in gray and obscuring Mt. Coronet above them. The group continues to walk towards the mountain, weaving between rocky outcroppings and crossing bridges, until they reach a wide plateau rising from an island right in the middle of the rapids. A short ways to the north, they can see a waterfall where the river drops from a higher elevation.

Kyousuke suddenly throws an arm out in front of Riki. “Wait. Look over there.”

Riki follows his gaze to a spire of rock in the middle of the plateau, and after a moment he registers a Pokémon levitating just above the tip of the spire. It’s vaguely human-shaped, with a short blue body and a white head shaped like the bulb of an onion aside from two large swirly ears. It also has a white segment connecting its torso with its legs. It’s hovering cross-legged with its arms out to either side. This is a Meditite, a somewhat common mountain Pokémon in the Hoenn and Sinnoh regions.

Riki glances at Kyousuke. “Are you going to scare it away?”

Kyousuke shakes his head. “No. It’s on its own, and this is a reasonably open area. Rin! Capture this Meditite!”

“What? Do it yourself!” Rin bristles.

“No. You need experience fighting wild Pokémon, and this is a safe opportunity to practice.”

“What about Riki, why aren’t you making him do it?”

“I will, but you’ve been in a trainer battle already. It’s on you to show him how it’s done.” Brooking no argument, Kyousuke gives his sister a light shove forward, pushing her towards the Pokémon. Its eyes snap open, and a moment later Lennon is standing in front of Rin, hissing at the Meditite. “Now, Mission Start!”

The Meditite leaps from its perch at the apparent challenge. Its eyes flash, and Lennon rolls on the ground, smacking into rocks as the mental attack disorients it.

“Lennon, use Ember!” Rin’s Pokémon shakes off the attack and spits weak flames at its opponent. Although the Meditite dodges around most of them, a few make contact and burn its legs. It redoubles its own attack in response, pelting Lennon with what Riki recognizes as Confusion attacks.

“Kyousuke, are you sure about making her do this?” Riki glances at Kyousuke, worried.

“It’ll be fine, Riki.” Kyousuke doesn’t take his eyes off of the battle. “The two of you need to learn how to handle things yourselves. Rin!” He suddenly shouts, and Riki’s head snaps back to the battle in time to see the Meditite stagger back as Lennon scratches it. “It looks weakened, this is the time to throw a Pokéball!”

With a wordless acknowledgment, Rin snatches an empty Pokéball from her bag and winds up to throw it. Riki marvels for a moment at her total concentration as she steps forward, brings her arm around for the throw, and…

…the ball slips from her fingers, soaring in a perpendicular angle from the battle until it slams into an outcropping and falls into the rapids below. The Meditite takes advantage of the opening as Rin scrambles for another Pokéball, and torments Lennon with a barrage of attacks.

“Okay, that’s enough. Scyther, use False Swipe!” Kengo’s voice rings out as a new Pokéball soars into the midst of battle, opening to release a large, bipedal mantis. The newcomer has a green head, thorax, abdomen, and pair of legs connected by smaller cream body segments. It has a pair of insect wings on its back, and a pair of scythes on the ends of its arms. Lennon finally collapses as the Scyther steps up in its place and harasses the Meditite with a series of light slashes, holding back from hurting it too badly. “Rin, you have no control at all. Watch my form, and maybe you’ll learn something.” With a series of deliberate, practiced movements, Kengo pulls a Pokéball from his own bag and tosses it overhand at the Meditite’s center mass. Still disoriented from the Scyther’s attacks, the Meditite doesn’t have a chance to dodge, and it gets sucked into the ball in a flash of red light. The ball shakes once, twice, three times, and then emits a click and lays still.

Kengo walks forward to pick up the Meditite’s Pokéball before turning back to the others. “Kyousuke, this is just a thought, but just maybe, it might work better if we teach them before you throw them into the deep end?”

Kyousuke sighs. “Fine. It’s nearly noon anyways, and this looks like a good place to stop and get some training in before we eat.” He looks at Rin, who is spraying Lennon with a potion bottle. “Rin, once you’re done with that, come with me. We’re going to work on your throwing technique. Masato, Kengo, can you two help Riki start training?”

Masato and Kengo look at each other.

After a moment, identical grins appear on their faces.

——

“I get that Kyousuke… asked you to help me train,” Riki pants, “But I don’t think… this is what he meant…”

With a gasp of effort, Riki pulls himself to the top of a large slab being held up by Masato’s Machamp. He reaches down to grab Terra by the shell and hoist it up after him before staggering back to his feet and jogging along the slab. Once he reaches the end of the path, he jumps down to a lower boulder, pauses to let Terra try and hop to his head - catching the Turtwig when it falls short halfway to him - and hopscotches across a series of rocks.

“A truly great trainer must train their body as well as their Pokémon,” Kengo says, pausing each time he makes a practice swing with his bamboo sword. His newly-caught Meditite is hovering beside him, watching his swings.

“Besides! Training alongside your Pokémon brings you closer together!” Masato lifts a boulder - smaller than Biceps’ slab, but still large for a human to be holding - as he speaks, muscles bulging.

Riki finally sways and topples over, Terra collapsing beside him.

Masato surveys the two, lying in almost identical positions. “See? You look closer already!”

“No… more…”

“Endurance is important, Riki. Even aside from keeping up with fast Pokémon, you have to travel on foot a lot.” Kengo hardly misses a beat as he continues his own training. “Still, if we want you to be able to walk any further today, that’s probably enough physical training.”

Riki lets out a sigh of relief.

“It’s time to work on strategy, instead. Let Terra rest, and send out your Bonsly.”

Riki pushes himself to his feet and switches Pokémon. “Now what?”

“Meditite, let’s battle.” Meditite snaps to attention. “Riki. Try to battle my Pokémon. And be careful; I’ve taught it some moves already.”

“Sly, use Flail!” Riki shouts, and the Bonsly waddles forward to try and get in range of Kengo’s Pokémon.

“Rock Smash!” Despite Kengo giving his command second, the Meditite easily outpaces Sly’s approach, hitting it with a measured strike designed to crack defenses. It knocks the Bonsly away, and leaps back before it can retaliate. Sly tries to chase the Meditite, but no matter what it does it can’t get a hit in. The Meditite runs in for another Rock Smash, and Kengo shouts “Stop! Match call! Riki, do you understand what went wrong?”

“Um…” Riki ponders for a moment. “…You had more experience than I did?”

“Not exactly.” Kengo shakes his head. “The trainer’s experience is important, but aside from my teaching Meditite a physical attack, this was a battle against a freshly-caught Pokémon. Riki, what are your Pokémon good at?”

“Well, they’re both good at taking hits, right?”

“That’s right. They’re both strong defenders, and solid attackers as well. However, as this battle showed, that doesn’t mean anything if you can’t land a hit. As your Pokémon’s trainer, it’s your job to understand their strengths and weaknesses, and to come up with a plan to work around those weaknesses when they arise.” Kengo pats a nearby outcropping. “That can mean finding ways to turn your opponent’s strengths against them, ways to turn your weaknesses into strengths, or ways to use the battlefield to your advantage.”

“I see…” Riki considers the match. “…So… what should I have done in that battle?”

“Oh, you were doomed from the start.” Masato puts down the rock he was lifting to rejoin the conversation.

Kengo glances away. “…Well… Okay, yes, your Bonsly’s skillset will need to grow before you can really plan around him. But the demonstration stands!”

“In the end, some things just can’t stand against overwhelming force!”

“Oh? Shall we show Riki whether that’s really true, then?” Kengo pulls his Scyther’s Pokéball from his belt and spins it on one finger. “Two Pokémon each, first elimination?”

“Bring it on! Riki, just watch and learn!” Masato grabs Beenikku’s ball, and another battle begins.