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dhwty-writes · 4 years

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A Health Hazard

This took a lot longer to write than it had any right to. The first 1.5k words were written in under 2 hours, the rest in thrice that time. I'm done with today and this prompt. Written for day 3: Reading by the fire/cuddling by the fire of @witcher-and-his-bard‘s winter prompts Have fun!

Summary: Geralt of Rivia is bored. This hasn't happened in forever. Literally. He learns to understand Jaskier's whining a lot better.

Warnings: none, besides the fact that this is unedited

Read on AO3

All things considered, it had taken a surprisingly short time for the impossible to happen. Apparently, all that it took was three weeks. Three weeks cooped up in Jaskier's generously-sized lodgings in Oxenfurt with nothing to do and lo and behold, Geralt of Rivia was bored. Bored! Could you imagine that?

It hadn't been so bad in the beginning. After five days he finally hadn't felt the need to rise with the sun and had let Jaskier kiss him goodbye, running late for a lecture, while he turned over and slept in. He couldn't remember when he had last done that. Truth be told, he couldn't remember if he'd ever done that.

Certainly not since he'd gotten to Kaer Morhen; there was no slacking in the witchers' keep. He briefly wondered if passing out after a fight and waking up days later could count as sleeping in. Probably not.

No, sleeping in was something for the safe and comfortable, and for the first time since he could think Geralt could count himself among them. All thanks to Jaskier, of course, who did his best to spoil his lover rotten. All on the cost of the Oxenfurt Academy, naturally.

The Academy spared no cost or effort to ensure the comfort of their lecturers—and Jaskier wasn't just any lecturer, he was probably the most popular bard on the continent. Geralt had first realised that Jaskier was rich when he had seen his personal study, stocked with books right up to the ceiling. Most of them were beautiful leather-bound tomes, written by hand with detailed pictures. He had felt a bit faint when discovering that some of them were in the second row.

No matter what Jaskier said about gifts from colleagues and magical innovations called a printing spell, books were immeasurable luxuries. And the bard owned close to a hundred of them. Personally.

Still, Geralt had been hesitant, at first, to make use of the private bath that came with the four-room apartment, or to call upon a servant to fetch him things. That was until Jaskier had told him outright how much they paid him for a single lecture, let alone several of them each day for months. If they were willing to pour that much money down the drain, he couldn't really feel bad about it.

So, the following days and weeks Geralt allowed Jaskier to teach him how to enjoy himself. He learned how to sleep in, indulged in almost daily baths, spent his days reading novels and poems out of Jaskier's personal collection. He didn't protest when the bard ordered too much food. Didn't comment on the overabundance of sweets—he even admitted he liked it. And when Jaskier asked for too exotic spices he only raised his eyebrows.

Once he had even ventured into the extensive Academy library—Geralt had never seen so many books in one place in his entire life—to find a collection of chivalrous legends Jaskier had told him about. He had been welcomed by an overly polite librarian, who had gone ahead to recommend him a dozen other books with the same topic, complete with annotations noting upon all the different possible interpretations. And if that hadn't been enough, he had been offered to take them with him. All of them. At once. As long as he liked. With no credentials but the name "Pankratz". He couldn't fathom how the library hadn't been robbed empty yet. When he had told Jaskier so, he had only laughed and kissed him gently, calling him a silly witcher.

It all had culminated when later that day, after Jaskier had ordered their dinner to be brought up to their rooms, it had been Geralt to stop the servant by the arm and ask for a bottle of wine.

"Right away, sir," the servant had answered. "Do you have any preferences?"

"Umm-" After a quick glance back to Jaskier, who had smiled encouragingly, he had added: "Est Est?"

He had half expected to be reprimanded, but the servant had only looked at him as if that had been obvious. "The year, sir. Do you have any preferences for the year?"

"I hear 1260 was especially good," Jaskier had piped up and that had been the end of that. They had had a very nice evening and an even nicer night, albeit neither of them had gotten a lot of sleep.

The problem was that since then over a week had passed. Geralt had read through all the books he had borrowed and leafed through a number of volumes of Jaskier's personal collection. He wasn't feeling like reading anymore. He had visited several taverns to play Gwent, but that too was interesting only for so long.

He had taken Jaskier up on his offer and accompanied him to a few lectures, but that had grown boring, too. Of course, he could talk about his adventure and the content of the poems, but that wasn't what Jaskier and his students were talking about. Instead, they lead very heated discussions about rhymes and metaphors and what Jaskier called a meter ("It's like a rhythm, Geralt."). But in the end, he didn't care if the rhyme was a pair or not, or if the rhythm was an asbestos or a dromedary or something.

He flopped down on the couch with an uncharacteristically dramatic sigh. Jaskier had returned from his last lecture an hour ago and was now holed up in his study doing... something. As if him being away all day wasn't bad enough, he had to continue working afterwards!

Geralt sat up with a start. Shit, was that how Jaskier felt all year round on the Path? It was a horrifying thought; no wonder the bard was so whiny all the time. Well, Geralt was different. He certainly wouldn't stoop so low. No, he definitely wouldn't whine.

~*~

"Jaskier," Geralt whined from his place on the extra armchair they had acquired the previous day. "Are you done yet?"

The poet mouthed some words along while he frantically scribbled them down on yet another snippet of parchment. "Almost, darling, give me a minute," he muttered absentmindedly just like he had half an hour ago.

Geralt threw his head back and groaned loudly. He was going mad; he was sure of it. It was not normal for people to go such a long time without someone charging at them with swords or claws or dirty underwear. It could not be healthy. "D'you think I should talk to Shani?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jaskier mumbled under his breath, flipping through the hundreds of pages of notes he was keeping.

"Hmm." So Jaskier agreed that boredom was a serious health hazard. He drummed his fingers on the armrest. Maybe he should go do it right away?

He got to his feet and was almost at the door when he halted. No, it was late already, sundown a few hours past. He walked back to the armchair. But maybe-

"Geralt," Jaskier said with a heavy sight and put down his pen. "Love. You're pacing."

"Really?" The witcher grit out. "Wouldn't have noticed."

"Can you just-" He rubbed at his temples. He looked incredibly tired. "I'm sorry, five more minutes, alright? Then we can do whatever you want, what d'you think of that."

"Hm." Geralt thought that was bullshit and that Jaskier should take a break.

But the poet was too engrossed in his own mind to even hear it.

'Alright then,' he thought and sat back down, arms crossed. 'Five more minutes.' He could manage five minutes of meditation. Easily.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, waiting for the calm to settle over him. What followed were probably the longest five fucking minutes of Geralt's life.

No sooner were they over that his eyes snapped open and he rushed over to his bard, holding him close from behind and nuzzling against his neck.

Jaskier chuckled softly. "Hello there. Five minutes over already?"

"Yes," Geralt said resolutely. "What're you writing anyways?" he asked, trying to peer over his bard's shoulder.

Still scribbling, Jaskier answered: "A novel, dear."

"A novel?" he replied and pulled back a little. "Since when?" Jaskier never wrote novels. Songs and poems, yes, and on one memorable occasion a play, too, but they had both agreed that it was horrid and that he should stick to shorter stuff.

He shrugged and slammed the piece of paper onto one of the piles. Apparently, there was an order to the chaos. "The day before yesterday, I think? Didn't really pay attention."

Geralt snorted. That went without saying. "Please tell me you didn't write all that in-"

Jaskier gasped softly and pulled up another sheet of paper. "Shh, give me a minute, love, else I'll forget this sentence. Oh fuck, this is so good-"

He bared his teeth. "You said-"

"Please, Geralt," Jaskier begged. 'Fuck.' The cursed bardlet knew damn well that he couldn't resist him; not with the pure desperation in his voice.

So, Geralt contented himself with grumbling displeased and pressing his nose against Jaskier's neck, while he waited for the scratching of the quill on paper to finally subside.

Thankfully, it didn't take too long for Jaskier to slam the quill down and forcefully push the paper away. "Done," he declared, exhaustion plain in his voice. "I'm done for today."

He raised his eyebrows. "You sure?"

"Y-yeah. I'm sure." The tiny pause was enough for Geralt to know that, no, Jaskier wasn't done in the slightest. If not for him the poet would probably stay up until the early hours of morning, crafting one masterful line after the other. Until he'd inevitably collapse from the exhaustion, smudging the ink of his uppermost sheet of paper all over his face.

He couldn't fathom how much self-control it cost Jaskier to turn around and ask: "So, what is bothering you so terribly, my beloved witcher?"

Geralt glared at him defiantly. It took him all of three seconds to cave. "I'm bored," he complained and frowned.

The effect was instantaneous and his expression grew soft. "Oh, my dear, I'm terribly sorry."

There was something about Jaskier's voice, something about his touch, about the way he brought Geralt close for a gentle kiss. Something that made him go from wanting to believe his words so badly to actually believing them.

The smile on his bard's face was nothing short of adorable when he asked: "Anything I can do about it?"

"Hm." Well, he could think of quite a few things to bide their time.

Before he could voice any of them, though, Jaskier continued: "Yeah, that's what I thought." He stood up and took his hand. "Come on, Geralt, I'm dead on my feet. Let's get somewhere more comfortable, then we can figure that out."

He gladly let himself be led. As long as it meant spending time with Jaskier, he was hardly about to object. The poet flitted around their apartment, collecting pillows and blankets, while he sent Geralt off to heat the kettle and get them some tea, all the while humming with excess energy.

Not fifteen minutes later Geralt found himself on the floor in front of the fireplace with a lapful of bard who was cursing quietly whenever he sipped his too-hot tea and inevitably burnt his tongue. Geralt couldn't help but smile as he cradled his Jaskier closer to his chest.

"What's your novel about?" he whispered into his ear.

"Oh, it's a romance!" he replied cheerfully.

Geralt pulled back, a horrible thought dawning on him. "Jaskier...," he growled. "Please tell me you're not writing a romance novel about us."

"Well," the poet drawled and Geralt groaned. So that was a yes. "I am not writing about Geralt of Rivia, the witcher, and Jaskier the bard."

"But?"

"But it might be that the two protagonists are a chivalrous monsterslayer and his loyal painter companion."

"Jaskier...," he pleaded even though he knew it was useless.

"What? In my defence, it was you who dragged in the knightly ballads!"

"Hm." That was a shit defence and they both knew it. Unwilling to start an argument, though, he just pulled Jaskier closer against his chest and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. "Tell me more."

And tell him more he did. Thank the gods it was so easy to get Jaskier rambling. He told him about the two protagonists, Eric and Dandelion, who had met shortly after the artist had abandoned the court; he had been living at, to find real inspiration out in the world. He was, apparently, entirely insufferable and a notorious womanizer-

"What?" Geralt interrupted him with a quiet chuckle. "Next you tell me he set out into the world to draw nude portraits of all his lovers."

"Oh no!" He felt Jaskier tense up before even the lament had left his mouth. "Oh, fuck, Geralt, that's brilliant, I-" His mouth snapped shut. His eyes flitted around nervously as he was obviously contemplating what the worse fate was: abandoning his lover or risking the loss of an idea.

Geralt quickly made the decision for him as he opened his arms. "Go on, bard," he said with a soft smile. "Write it down before it's gone again." He had lived with Jaskier long enough to become well acquainted with all of his sorrows.

The smile he got in return was almost worth it. "You're the best, I love you, I'm so sorry," he blabbered, scrambling to his feet. He pecked him on the mouth with a quick: "Be right back."

'No, you won't,' Geralt thought adoringly as he watched him bolt to his desk. "Just bring something to write with when you do!" he called after him and leaned back against the couch. He couldn't quite bring himself to wipe the lopsided grin off his face.

It was going to be a long winter. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

#my writing #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #winter prompt challenge

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artistrashofmine · 3 years

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Ehhh I posted a pwp, KiriBaku fic last night. The one that I posted a little snippet on a month or so back. Check it out on AO3. Or continue on reading.

Bakugou’s an alpha. His confirmation of that fact came today just like most teenagers in their first or second year of high school.

And Bakugou likes to pride himself on being good at everything he does. Top grades, amazing quirk control, quick thinker, good cook, clean room. But he’s a shitty alpha. A fucking horrible excuse of an alpha.

Because male alpha’s don’t produce slick. Yet here he was, cock hardened and inner thighs coated in the clear substance. An he was an alpha because he had a fucking knot. And people wouldn’t stop reminding him of his stupid scent. He wasn’t complaining, it didn’t matter all that much of what he was, either way, it wouldn’t affect his goal of becoming a hero. Plenty of his classmates were omegas, just as plenty of them were alphas, and plenty of them were betas. It was a pretty even split actually.

Though he doubts many of the alpha’s produced slick . So you could see why he was confused to all hell, waking up in the middle of a rut to find fucking slick running down his legs. That alone was strange enough, it didn’t help that his hole was practically begging for something to enter it.

And it wasn’t like Bakugou hadn’t thought of it in the past. He never went as far as fingering himself, but he thought about it. How it might feel, to have something pounding into him. And maybe that was only because of who he thought of doing it with. And maybe the fact that he was an alpha didn’t matter when it came to becoming a hero, but it did matter when it came to relationships.

Low and behold, the Bakugou Katsuki, talking about the importance of relationships , high school lovers and all that shit as if it were more important than saving lives. As if it mattered in the long run. As if it was even believed that it was Bakugou who was concerning themself with relationships. Bakugou who could hardly admit to having friends.

Bakugou Katsuki who was fucked up, slicked up because the only fucking thing he could think of on this shitty excuse for a rut was an alpha, a strong alpha. Because that’s what he deserved and apparently that’s the only thing his body would settle for - acting as a fleshlight for his powerful alpha. His mind came to the conclusion that no one else was good enough, not some soft omega that other alphas would love, and not a warm body to fuck into - Katsuki wanted to be that body.

Maybe it was his own fault, setting himself up for this kind of shit. But would thoughts alone be enough to warrant a slicked up hole? Thoughts of the stupid alpha’s smile, the sharp teeth as he claimed the blond. of Katsuki’s hands wrapped up in the obnoxious red hair. God, it had Katsuki ready to pop his knot. He wanted to cum all over that body, the fucking ripped body, maybe it’d be hardened, fuck, have the rock hard body under him. Katsuki would be grinding against his face, squeezing it between his thighs - could go as hard as he wanted, wouldn’t have to worry about hurting the idiot.

He squeezed his half-formed knot before giving a tug to his cock, clenching his thighs together, lubed up by the wasted slick. His head thrown back, teeth biting down on his lip to muffle a moan, his hand speeding up, his thrusting up into the heat.

Katsuki came to the thought of the redhead alpha, to Kirishima’s sharp teeth and hungry eyes.

Yeah, what a shitty alpha he made.

To say he was grumpy two days later was an understatement. He was getting congratulated for fuck’s sake. They could all smell his scent changing earlier, before the rut, and that was bad enough. But now, he reeked of alpha, of post-rut. Everyone knew he was a fucking knot-head. He smelled different and he hated it. He remembered when he first got his quirk, he had gotten so fed up with the sweet scent of his sweat that he had started begging his mom for a bath nearly every hour. Of course he never got that bath, but it was a nightmare. Not only for him, but for those who had to deal with his whiny ass.

At least now he wasn’t a whiny brat anymore, but he knew how to hold a grudge. And in this case, his grudge was with biology. The stupid thing can go fuck its self. Apparently, everyone else thought otherwise. It was a fucking gift that he finally presented, as if he had been reborn or some shit like that. And all Katsuki wanted to do was forget about it. Forget the whole thing happened and go back to when he was blissfully unaware.

“Congrats man!” But no, it was never that easy, “looks like we’re both alphas.”

Yeah, thanks for the reminder Shitty-Hair.

A fucking disaster, that’s what his life was, a fucking disaster.

“You don’t look all that pleased though, what��s going on?” The redhead had his arm slung across the blond as they made their way to school, congratulating him on becoming the exact opposite of what Katsuki had hoped - that’s what was going on.

“Nothing, it’s not a big deal so fuck off with the congratulations shit.” He scowled, eyes averted, not unusual behaviour for the hothead.

“Dude, come on. You might be the oldest in the class, but you're the last to present! It’s a big deal!” Did it matter that much to him?

Katsuki’s eyebrow twitched, “not to me it isn’t. I don’t fucking care. It’s all bullshit anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

He met Kirishima’s confused red eyes, “nothing.“

The redhead dropped the conversation from there, moving on to lighter topics, attempting to trick Katsuki into studying with him again for the test that was coming up. It wasn’t really a trick seeing that the blond could see it from a mile away and wasn’t all that opposed to studying with Shark-Teeth, but he let the other live in his oblivious world.

Besides, Katsuki could only imagine what the other would think if he found out the blond’s dirty secret. No more studying, no more walking to class together or the brightly toothed smiles. It’d be over. Katsuki wouldn’t risk that. He felt sick, living in his fantasy of his friend, knowing how much the other would likely look down at him for it and still selfishly soaking up all the attention he offered, but he couldn’t help it. He craved it, craved the other's attention.

So he could never say no when the other asked to hang out, asked to study. In his room. He liked being in Kirishima’s room. It smelled so strong of the alpha, Katsuki couldn’t get enough of it. Plus his instincts were going crazy now that he presented, and not in the aggressive alpha way. Rather than getting rid of the scent, he wanted to bathe in it. Wanted to combine it with his own.

God, something was really fucked up with his hormones, he should probably schedule a doctor's appointment or something. But it was only with Kirishima, the thought of any other alpha in the room, anyone else covered in the redhead’s scent, had Katsuki burning with anger, possessiveness. He got one alpha reaction at least. Usually, those would be towards omega’s though, sometimes beta’s, but never other alphas. This was giving him a headache.

It made it difficult to concentrate on the other’s questions and work which was stupid because Kiri was the whole reason he was going through this crisis. He wanted to be here, to have the alpha’s attention, to be near him, not to let his mind wander on how fucked up he is.

“No, Bakugou. Seriously dude, are you alright?” Apparently, the one in question had noticed his absent mind as well.

“Yeah, I’m good. What the hell was your question?” But Shitty-Hair didn’t accept that answer, setting his pencil down and turning his body to face the blond.

“I didn’t ask a question, I finished one. Come on man, we’re friends, you know you can talk to me?” Friends, that was the problem. And it’s not like Katsuki could just talk to him, they wouldn’t be friends after that kind of discussion. At least he wouldn’t think so. Still, maybe he could get some insight on something. And it wouldn’t be admitting his big fat crush.

He took a deep breath, “my biology is fucking wack.”

Shitty-Hair raised an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes, “I mean what I said. I presented and it was fucking weird. All that alpha shit is messed up.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, a flush coming to his checks, “you mean your knot?!”

Why did he think this was a good idea?

“What- no. Just other signs, just- not only signs that I’m an alpha, but ones that omega’s and shit have.” This had to be the most painful conversation he’ll ever experience, “that’s all, alright? Gonna talk to a doctor or something.”

At least it’ll keep the other off his back. Keep him from further worrying.

Only he should have expected that Kirishima wouldn’t simply drop the topic, “you mean like… slick?”

And god, fucking save him. The idiot hit the mark, assumed all the right things. Goddamnit, “it’s none of your business! Jesus. Now show me your work.”

His tries at deflection went unheard, and his nondescript answer was taken for a yes, “so you slicked up… during a rut.”

No longer could Katsuki prevent the flush threatening to overtake his face, “why does it matter? Let’s just do this stupid math question!”

His volume progressively grew, as if that would prevent the other from his prying, “so like... do you produce slick outside of a rut?”

“What the fuck?” He hadn't thought of that, maybe it was just a first rut type of thing that happened some alpha’s for some fucking weird-ass reason, “how the hell should I know?! I just got out of the damn rut!”

So he finally gave up, admitting to his best friend’s suspicions. And now he would drop the fucking topic, as if it were the most fascinating subject on the planet; whether or not Katsuki slicked up outside of a rut. This was a fucking mess. But it was on Kirishima’s mind. Kirishima was thinking about Katsuki slicking up. And if that wasn’t a turn-on, he didn’t know what was.

“Ah yeah, sorry dude.” He averted his eyes, staring down at the paper, and finally - much to a certain part of Katsuki’s disappointment - it appeared as if he were about to drop the subject and continue on with the math work, yet Kirishima’s sheepish mumbling implied quite the opposite, “did you want to find out?”

The blond’s eyes widened, suddenly he was very aware of his growing arousal and the tension between the two of them. Was this Shitty-Hair’s way of confessing? Was he offering to help the blond slick up ? Or was he just being stupid and legitimately curious? No, he couldn’t have been that much of an idiot, he had to know how he sounded.

“Kirishima…” Katsuki’s voice was deep and heavy with warning.

The redhead looked him in the eyes, “Katsuki.”

The use of the blond’s first name sent a shiver up his back - and that was it. He moved, pushing aside the school work to straddle the alpha, to get as close as he could, the redhead surging forward to take the other’s lips in a messy, violent kiss. Katsuki couldn’t ask for anything better. Kirishima's sharp teeth pulled at his bottom lip, god he wanted those on his neck, digging into the sensitive gland located there. And his scent, fuck , Katsuki was going to have it all over him. For the next fucking week he’d be left walking around covered in the alpha’s scent. It had a throaty groan falling from his lips, that ended in a higher-pitched whine as Kiri did just as the blond had hoped, mouth nipping and sucking at his throat. The rough hands feel up Katsuki’s body, tugging up his skin-tight tank to reveal his pecks to the cold air, and squeezing them.

The blond tossed his head back, letting his mouth hang open. He didn’t think that would feel so good. They were so. Fucking. Sensitive.

“Damn,” the redhead cursed, looking up at Bakugou in awe, fingers playing with the hardened nubs.

Katsuki ground down on him, feeling the hardness of cock through the shitty jeans he wore. Not that the blond’s state was any better, god, he was likely making a mess of his boxers already. Still, no slick.

Not until Shitty-Hair decided to put his teeth to a better use - that supposedly being his overly sensitive chest. It had Katsuki hissing as a nipple was taken into his warm mouth, as the alpha fucking destroyed his tanktop, the fabric no match for Kirishima’s quirk, falling in taters onto the floor.

Only then did the blond notice the sticky feeling between his legs. For a second he wondered if he came. Though he was still hard, his knot only beginning to form. Instead, the sticky feeling came from between the cheeks that the redhead’s hands had come down to grope.

Well, it looked like he had just gotten the answer to their question. Yes, he could still slick up, and no it wasn’t just a one-time thing. Holy shit. He was slicking like some bitch.

With a little bit of a stretch, Eijirou could fuck him so easily. Eijirou would be his first time, hell, if he wanted he’d be the first to finger the blond - Katsuki would be satisfied with anything at this point.

“Ei, Ei-” Katsuki choked on the alpha’s first name, the red eyes from their spot at his chest peering at him questioningly, “Eijirou- Take off my fucking pants .”

Before he knew it, Katsuki was sprawled out underneath the redhead, who growled as he reached for his bottoms. The blond’s own instincts were beaming, because this alpha was strong enough for him. This alpha was strong and rough and everything he could ask for. They knew what they wanted. They wanted the best, and that was Bakugou, and they weren’t afraid to take him. Kiri wasn’t afraid to.

Kind, happy, idiot of an alpha Kirishima. Who looked like a fucking god as he tore off Katsuki’s pants and boxers in one go, the blond’s body pulled forward with the effort. And he let his legs fall open, his shiny, wet thighs on display. His arms stretched comfortably above him. His ego soaking in Kiri’s heated gaze. His sweet yet sharp scent filled the bedroom. Kirishima’s own scenting increased in response.

“Woah, Kat-” The blond blushed as a pair of Kiri’s fingers ran across his inner thighs, through the slick smeared along his skin, “you smell like an alpha but you slick up like an omega in heat.”

Katsuki scowled, kicking out at the other, “I told you, stupid, shitty- hnnnnnh.”

His voice trailed off into a surprised whine as the redhead hiked one of Katsuki’s legs up onto his shoulder, his tongue darting out to lick up the slick he had been so enraptured about.

“Shit!” The hothead didn’t think his thighs were so sensitive, just as sensitive as his fucking tits.

The redhead hiked his other leg up so that Katsuki’s ass was in the air, and he went to town, face buried between the blond’s thighs, tongue lapping up the sweet slick.

“Fuck!” He threw his head back ignoring the ache as it hit the floor, the alpha’s tongue had finally found the other’s hole, urging Katsuki’s body to produce more and more slick, devouring the stuff as if it were his last meal.

Katsuki was tempted to touch himself, his ignored dick swelled atop his abdomen, wetting his navel with pre-cum. He knew the second his fingers wrapped around the member he wouldn’t be able to resist knotting into his own fist. He wanted to feel the other's knot first. Would Kirishima knot him? He hoped so. If the redhead’s mouth was this good - the sharp teeth that teased his rim - Katsuki could only imagine how it’d feel with the alpha fucking into him.

The heat of his mouth was suddenly retracted, causing Bakugou to groan in disappointment. Though it was soon replaced by a rough pair of fingers, massaging the blond’s entrance.

“Think you can take them both at once?” Realistically, Katsuki doubted that, he hadn’t even experienced one finger in his ass, not to mention two. Even if he was slicking up like an omega, he was still technically a virgin.

But fuck it, as long as he didn’t blow his load the second those digits entered him, he’d be fine. He was certainly wet enough, “try me.”

The stretch burned, the pair of fingers pulling his hole apart as they entered. Katsuki was grateful for how slow Kiri was going, allowing him time to adjust, rubbing the sensitive walls of the blond’s insides. Just as sensitive as the rest of his body apparently. And getting over the initial burn, it felt weird, but not bad. Filling - and he didn’t even have a dick in him yet. He couldn’t help but clench on the invading fingers, trying to get used to the feeling of being so open. And as his body adjusted, the more slick he produced so that the redhead's fingers were moving freely, slipping in and out with less and less resistance as they went.

Soon enough the alpha was adding a third one, curling them up into an area that had Katsuki throwing his head back, reaching to dig his fingers into Kirishima's arm and crying out in surprise. His muscles fluttered around the digits, completely plient, practically pulling them in. It sure as hell didn’t take his body very long to fall into this role of taking it up the ass. Maybe that’s Bakugou’s fault for thinking about the stupid alpha’s knot so often. How far were they going to go? Kiri was going to try knotting him, yeah? The stupid alpha better. Else he got the blond alpha all loose for nothing.

“Can I fuck you Katsuki?” Eijirou asked as if reading his mind.

“Fuck yeah.” The blond pushed himself further onto the fingers buried in his ass.

“I don’t even need a lube,” he muttered as if he wasn’t knuckle deep in a sopping wet hole, “such a good alpha.”

Hell yes . Obviously, it made no logical sense seeing that alphas weren’t supposed to be slicking up and that's exactly what he was getting praised for, but in Katsuki’s fucked up mind that didn’t matter. He was a good alpha, able to provide for his partner- he felt fucking proud.

Shitty-Hair wasted no time tearing his own clothes off. His boxers were the last to go, and if the sizable bulge that sat against the thin fabric was anything to go off, Katsuki was in for a treat.

His cock was huge . An alpha’s cock, much bigger than Katsuki’s own, the knot had already started to swell at the base, precum beading at the tip of the hardened member, balls hanging heavy, full of cum. Cum that Katsuki wanted inside him . He was grateful the redhead decided to use three fingers, cause he sure as hell didn’t look like he wanted to waste any more time. Katsuki’s never seen Kiri like this before, so powerful . He could get used to it.

“Katsuki, I can’t hold back anymore. Can I?” His hands trailed up and down the blond’s thighs.

In reply, the red-eyed alpha did his best to further part his legs, allowing as much room as possible for the other, “I already told you, so don’t make me do all the work now, Ei .”

Not that he was against the idea of riding the redhead till dawn. Nor was Shitty-Hair by the contemplating look upon his face. But he snapped out of it as the blond reached up to wrap an arm around his neck. And then the hot member was bumping against his ass, sliding along his slickened hole. The red eyes glanced down, hand lining up his cock to the stretched hole. Katsuki’s body opened up perfectly for the alpha’s cock, twitching as it slid into the wet opening. It went so deep, it filled him up so well. Why hadn't he tried this before? Though even Eijirou’s fingers did feel weak compared to the real thing, would his own fingers just succeed in frustrating himself? Especially compared to the alpha’s cock as it came to rest against the blond’s prostate, setting his body on fire. It felt as if he were going to pass out from the amount of pleasure this was giving him. He had doubts that he’d be able to feel satisfied again, not without Kirishima’s cock.

Both alphas were moaning as they settled, “you good Kat?”

“Never been better.” He rolled his eyes at the shark-toothed grin sent his way, jolting as Kiri pulled his body back, hands leaving a strong grip around his waist. And he pushed back in, bottoming out once again, and again, and again as he repeated the action. The blond’s hands gripping and tugging at the stupid red hair, eyes rolling back at the brutal pace that was so suddenly set. The shameful squelching sound of the excess slick. The gurgles and unintelligent words that escaped the blond’s mouth.

Katsuki’s shaky hand came down to tug at his smaller dick, the knot already half-formed. Ejirou watched the movement with half-lidded eyes, only quickening his pace chasing after an orgasm. His right hand came up to grasp at the blond’s peck. His own knot was already catching on the abused rim whenever he rammed in or pulled out.

God, he felt so close. The way Ei played with his nipple, the way his member hit that spot so well.

“Come- come on… knot me Eijirou.” He demanded, legs wrapped tightly around the other’s hips in an attempt to keep him close, “knot me!”

“So good…” Kiri gaped, “so good alpha.”

Katsuki yelped as his orgasm hit, the redhead's hand quickly coming down to squeeze his knot, earning a low groan from the blond as cum spurt across his stomach. His hole twitched around the alpha’s cock, feeling the pulsing knot as it was shoved into him, stretching his rim, finally growing too big to pull out. Eijirou gave a few more swallowed thrusts into the oversensitive body before he released his own seed. The substance had nowhere to go as the knot swelled to full size, causing an uncomfortable bloated feeling in the blond’s abdomen.

Kiri rested his forehead against the blond’s chest, “Kat, I think you’re the manliest alpha that could ever exist.”

With a knot in his ass, a belly full of cum, his own cum drying on his stomach, the redhead’s hold on his knot, and slick sticking to his thighs; Katsuki felt like he should be offended. Instead, his mouth twitched upwards and he couldn’t help but let out a tired snot.

This slick thing wasn’t all that bad, he wouldn’t mind if it stayed. So the alpha found himself content with dozing away in the other alpha’s arms on the floor of his dorm room, sure to be sore tomorrow but who fucking cared. He got what he wanted.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #Kirishima Eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #pwp #bnha #mha #fanfic

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pokelolmc · 4 years

Text

Ectoberweek Day 2: (Pulse)

Sadly, my Ectoberweek submissions are a few days behind because of...pesonal reasons. This is what happens when I wing it last-minute, I guess (also, this one turned out much longer than I anticipated).

This one is also a crossover, with Doctor Who (featuring the Ninth Doctor), but hopefully it’s not too much trouble to get the gist of if you haven’t seen it:

ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13729906/2/EctoberWeek-2020-Collection

‘A faint spectre of a familiar wheezing noise—something roughly halfway between an electric train engine and some contraption from the mind of H.G Wells—drifted through Danny’s window, bolting him unceremoniously up off of his bed in a messy paradox of fear and excitement. A quick ghost-aided hop out of the second-floor window landed Danny safely onto the manicured lawn of his backyard with nary a giveaway crunch of grass. He leapt into a hurried sprint out to his front yard and down the footpath, a prayer on his lips that Jazz—or, god forbid, his parents—wouldn’t find it odd he locked his bedroom door for something as mundane as an alleged “nap”.

He couldn’t tell them why he was leaving, not without admitting a secret he dreaded they wouldn’t understand.

He sadly had little justification to convince him they would, considering the misery of the past hellish year that slipped by his hitherto closest loved ones completely unnoticed, let alone understood. The only person who could understand his discomfort was a once-stranger who had properly noticed, pulled him back to his feet and saved him when everyone else couldn’t.

For someone as guarded in lies as Danny, the hefty pile of trust he invested in the Doctor after only half a year still continually stunned him…

…For all the time that he had been a halfa, Danny adamantly ignored the implications of his own modified biology. As he zeroed his focus in on his early superhero-esque impression of the outcome, the notion of becoming something not entirely human sat tightly folded and stuffed into the belly of his mental closet where it could no longer hurt him—out of sight, out of mind. The notion of an otherworldly, freakish creature—one of the only two on the entire planet—alone amongst a crowd of normal humans, ready to tear him apart should they find out he was not one of their kind…

It reared its ugly head out of depths of his psyche in his nightmares.

An unfortunate doubt had burrowed its deep way into his heart that, no matter how well his family and friends knew him, the intricacies of his situation were impossible for them to understand— unlike him, they all remained fully human…powerless, mundane, living without fear of being found out as something else… Vlad, for all that he was Danny’s fellow in physical nature, remained his moral opposite. Danny lost count of just how many times that broken record had replayed his denial of Plasmius’s contemptible deal to the stubborn maniac. By all accounts, he should’ve had no one to turn to.

However, for all of the paranoid secrecy that lodged the topic close to the vest, Danny felt fare more at ease breaching it with the Doctor, minus the unpleasantness of the touchy subject matter tasting bitter in his mouth…

…“…Something wrong?”

“Can we talk about it inside...?”

The Doctor nodded carefully, letting Danny into the vast exterior of the disguised time machine and locking the door behind him.

The teenager shuffled in as the Doctor paced to a cooler bag resting beyond the edge of the main console to grab a drink for them both, returning to break his companion’s awkward silence.

“I assume this is something difficult, then?”

“Well…yeah.” Danny responded pathetically, rubbing the back of his neck as he averted the man’s gaze. “It kind of occurred to me earlier, but I’ve never wanted to think about it…”

Those ancient eyes pierced immediately into him.

“Does it have to do with your family?”

“No!” he stammered hastily, “It’s just…”

His throat moved as if possessed, his voice lowering carefully from a reflex honed for reasons he wished never had to be.

“I…what do I do? …What if people find out what I am?”…

The Doctor’s eyes blinked almost owlishly for such a scant second that Danny wasn’t even sure if he had just been imagining it, before his features schooled into a pensive frown.

“Oh…”

“I can’t take it! I told myself I was normal, still normal, forever…but I’m just deluding myself!” his hands clenched tightly into shaking fists by his sides, “I’ll never be a normal human like everyone else again! I have powers they don’t; DNA that’s different to theirs—how different is my body, even, to a normal human’s?! How much physical, undeniable proof is there that I’m not normal?! Have I got some sort of freaky biology that would set me apart from everyone in a hospital—that as soon as they took a look at me, they’d know I wasn’t like them?! A monster?! A weird thing that needs to be locked up?! What am I supposed to do when everyone finds out that I’m some freak?! How…how can I live with something like that?!”…

…“Danny, there’s nothing ‘freakish’ about being other than human; normalcy is in the eye of the beholder.”

Danny’s gaze sank to the floor, fighting a losing battle to keep his face restrained, eyes dodging away from the Doctor as he put a hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“You say that…but you don’t know what people are like.”

“Oh, I think a good 700 years of being acquainted with Earth had made sure I know.” The Doctor scoffed.

“You don’t know what being human is like! You don’t know what I’ve lost!” ripped itself from Danny’s trembling throat.

“I don’t, I’ll admit that—but for all it’s worth, why does it have to be something to mourn? There’s nothing wrong with having biology different to a human’s, and that’s not going to change what you’re worth or take away your ability to find a place to call your own.”

“What about my parents and the people in town? Even Tucker and Sam, forgetting what they already know, would still find me weird if they found out how deep it went! It would matter to them!”

“—You already know I’m not human; you just said so.” the Doctor replied simply.

“Do you think it would matter to me?”

Danny choked on a dumbfounded stutter.

“I…I don’t know.”

The older of the duo tapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, trying to coax the younger’s gaze upwards, with a thoughtful pause…

“Danny, did you know I have two hearts?”

Danny snapped up to look him in the eye.

“It’s true!” the alien crowed in mock defence, “You must’ve forgotten if you don’t remember! I’m sure I’ve mentioned it at least once!”

A cocked brow from the boy told him to return to seriousness, “For all I look like a human to you, Danny, Time Lord biology has quite a few major differences on the inside; mainly, two hearts—additionally, also a respiratory bypass system in the same area. It’s quite useful in situations of air blockages. That is a clear, solid reminder that would prove me vastly different to any human who took a look—and they have, too...a hospital had the unfortunate shock of taking my bloods and chest x-rays in the 1970’s. It’s happened quite a few times since.”

Leather wrinkled as he rolled up one sleeve in response to Danny’s gaping face, offering his bare wrist to him.

“Go ahead—feel my pulse; it’s right there, double time—the vascular valves have to work twice as fast to keep up with a second heart.”

Danny cocked an eyebrow, taken aback for a few short seconds before gingerly taking the Doctor’s wrist in his hand…

…As Danny fumbled to find the right spot and gesture, the Doctor mimed with his own free hand on the wrist to guide Danny on the correct position.

He fought down the light tremors of emotion in his hand as he tried to focus on the right spot beneath the time traveller’s skin, tactile attention peeled for any slight movement.

Thump-thump,

The hybrid’s eyes shot as wide open as dinner plates.

A beat rippled under the pads of his fingers, rapidly fluttering in quickly succeeding rounds of two each third of a second…

…Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump…

A vague fog spilled into his brain an isolated fact from tenth-grade science—a snippet of the teacher’s comparisons to show the rough scale of average resting heart rates.

The Doctor’s pulse hurried like a human pumped up on terrifying high of adrenaline…all, incredibly, while still at rest. Such a pace remained impossible for a human heart to handle alone…

A chest far more bizarre than any of the freakish physiological anomalies he had ever fathomed or dreaded discovering in his own mutated body.

“How…how fast is that?” Danny stammered in awe, pulling his hand away.

“Roughly around 126 beats per minute, resting.” The Doctor grinned proudly, “That can go up to 150 when I’m running. The hearts themselves are even faster than the pulse—in rounds of four. You think that’s too different from human for you to have no problems with?”…

… He glanced over the other’s smaller frame.

“Want to try yours? Take some vitals to see if there’s anything different we need to know of?”

Danny frowned, unease starting to pool in the bottom of his stomach.

“But, we’re in Amity Park…”

“We’re in Amity Park in the TARDIS” he corrected, “safe from any prying eyes—those walls are impenetrable. There’s no better place than here to take a look—and knowing how your own body adapted to ectoplasm will very likely come in handy later.

If not now, that’s alright—but consider it for later some time; self-knowledge is very important, and courage starts with stepping up to face what frightens you.”

“No…I’ll give it a go now.” Danny decided hesitantly.

“Alright, then.” The Doctor strolled briskly down a branching corridor, disappearing down the amber hallway.

The console room fell into silence, only broken by the faint drone of the TARDIS engines in the background. Left to his own devices in the empty room, curiosity lightly crept in over the upset in Danny’s chest, tempting him into a quick glance at his own wrist.

He’d gotten to check the Doctor’s pulse…so what about his own?...”

Read full story from beginning under cut:

A faint spectre of a familiar wheezing noise—something roughly halfway between an electric train engine and some contraption from the mind of H.G Wells—drifted through Danny’s window. He sprung up off of his bed with the suddenness of a wound-up spring, in a messy paradox of fear and excitement. Hardly a blade of backyard grass crunched under his step as he ejected himself, ghost-aided, from the second story window. He leapt into a hurried sprint out to his front yard and down the footpath, a prayer on his lips that Jazz—or, god forbid, his parents—wouldn’t find it odd he locked his bedroom door for something as mundane as an alleged “nap”.

He couldn’t tell them why he was leaving, not without admitting a secret he dreaded they wouldn’t understand.

For someone as guarded in lies as Danny, the hefty pile of trust he invested in the Doctor after only sixth months still baffled his own judgement.

Sheer serendipity had smashed them into each other in the dirty, deserted alleys of Amity Park in the heat of late spring—in retrospect, it was only sensible that Amity Park’s run-ragged local protector was pulled head-first into the Doctor’s mission to chase down an alien threat to the town. Danny’s experience with danger, quick thinking and compassion received the unbelievable surprise of an approving eye from the peculiar “traveller”—and at the end of an averted crisis, their exchange switched from a currency of snarky banter to their inevitably unveiling secrets. Two pairs of light sapphires locked into each other’s depths, piercing through the icy surfaces to glimpse at mutually familiar reflections of loneliness and pain. With the planting of a hand on Danny’s shoulder, and the man’s lighthearted switch to a casual offer to take him on a trip (he owed the boy one for the help, was his excuse), and Danny had finally witnessed the unthinkable: the miraculous salvaging of the hitherto unsalvageable.

His childhood dream of becoming an astronaut, struck down by the brutal consequences of recklessly buckling to peer pressure at fourteen (sacrificing one half of his life to get his powers, and the other half to the ungrateful town he used them for), had somehow been resurrected from the ashes. In the blinding abyss of despair that tore from him all motivation and vision of his own meaning and future, he had finally regained sight of what he had longed for so long ago:

He was offered a chance to see the stars.

…not just gazing at constellations from the roof he vastly preferred to the entire home that sat underneath, but a chance to spare a glance up close and personal—on the densely populated planets pulled into the stars’ orbits. To bask in the colourful evidence of those stars in an alien sunrise, and set foot on the moons and asteroids bizarre geological impossibilities called their ancient homes…

One trip turned into a second…which, unsurprisingly, turned into a third…

From there, the call of Danny’s responsibility to stay in Amity brought a semi-regular schedule of visits back and forth—from Danny relearning what hope felt like from the firsthand wonders of space, to the Doctor’s frequent check-in visits to the child’s haunted hometown. Hours filled with conversation and strengthening rapport that Danny’s busy double life deprived him of having with his family and friends. A fresh perspective on the universe leapt into his life out of the blue and sat, in a worn leather jacket and raven buzz-cut, listening to his pain and pushing him to heal.

That report nagged at Danny from the recesses of his mind, insisting on the only person he could take his dredged-up dilemma to.

For all the time that he had been a halfa, Danny adamantly ignored the implications of his own modified biology. As he distracted himself with his earlier superhero-esque impression of gaining ghost powers, the notion of becoming something not entirely human sat tightly folded and stuffed into the underbelly of his mental closet where it couldn’t hurt him—out of sight, out of mind. The concept of an otherworldly, freakish creature—one of the only two on the entire planet—alone in a crowd of normal humans with the tenacity to tear him apart as soon as they knew…

It reared its ugly head in his nightmares.

An unfortunate doubt burrowed a deep beeline into his heart that, no matter how well his family and friends knew him, the intricacies of his situation were impossible for them to understand. Unlike him, they all remained fully human…powerless, mundane, living without fear of being found out as something else… Vlad, for all that he was Danny’s fellow in physical nature, remained his moral opposite. Danny lost count of just how many times that broken record had replayed his denial of Plasmius’s contemptible deal to the stubborn maniac. By all accounts, the second halfa should’ve had no one to turn to.

However, for all of the paranoid secrecy that lodged the topic close to the vest, Danny felt almost entirely at ease breaching it with the Doctor—minus the unpleasant sting of the touchy subject matter tasting bitter in his mouth.

His hasty feet scraped to a stop at a sliver of blue wood past a corner. Relieving his straining lungs, his legs strolled the last few metres steadily of their own accord, ceasing before he bumped into the hilariously unfitting shape of a 1960’s British police box at the mouth of an alleyway. An unearthly glow pulsed faintly from the lantern atop the booth, tinting the deep Aegean-blue paint with scant patches of flashing turquoise. A soft orange glow streamed out in beams from the two windows on a pair of double doors at the entrance. Danny’s fingers reached up, sensitively, to the sturdy corner framing of the booth, his eyes catching the ebony sign that read “POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX” along the length of the roof. A shudder through the wood brushed feather-light underneath his fingertips in greeting, the warm purr of an impossibly ancient—and just as volatile—housecat eagerly welcoming its familiar guest.

After a quick rap on the doors, they swung open with a long creak, accompanied by a Northern British accent rising in a pleasant tenor.

“Ah, Danny—right on time again!” faded eyebrows shot up a bare forehead under the familiar black buzz-cut. A welcoming smile spread over half the distance from one embarrassingly prominent ear to another.

“I heard you landing.” the forced cheer in Danny’s words fell in ruins to the awkward, shaky tumble they came out in.

The grin quickly turned into a serious frown, those electric blue irises lowering their gaze in concern.

“…Something wrong?”

“Can we talk about it inside...?”

The Doctor nodded carefully, letting Danny into the vast exterior of the disguised time machine and locking the door behind him.

The teenager shuffled in as the Doctor paced to a cooler bag resting beyond the edge of the main console to grab a drink for them both. He broke his companion’s awkward silence.

“I assume this is something difficult, then?”

“Well…yeah.” Pathetic as it was, it was all the response Danny could momentarily muster. His gaze darted from one side to the other and he rubbed the back of his neck, “It kind of occurred to me earlier, but I’ve never wanted to think about it…”

Those ancient eyes pierced immediately into him with a protective air.

“Does it have to do with your parents?”

“No!” he stammered hastily, “—not exactly, it’s just…”

His throat moved as if possessed, his voice lowering carefully from a reflex honed for reasons he wished never had to be.

“I…what do I do? …What if people find out what I am...?”

The Doctor’s eyes blinked almost owlishly for such a scant second that Danny wasn’t even sure if he had just been imagining it, before his features schooled into a pensive frown.

“Oh…”

“I can’t take it! I told myself I was normal, still normal, forever��but I’m just deluding myself!” his hands clenched tightly into shaking fists by his sides, “I’ll never be a normal human like everyone else again! I have powers they don’t; DNA that’s different to theirs—how different is my body, even, to a normal human’s?! How much physical, undeniable proof is there that I’m not normal?! Have I got some sort of freaky biology that would set me apart from everyone in a hospital—that as soon as they took a look at me, they’d know I wasn’t like them?! A monster?! A weird thing that needs to be locked up?! What am I supposed to do when everyone finds out that I’m some freak?! How…how can I live with something like that?!”

Silence.

“Danny, there’s nothing ‘freakish’ about being other than human; normalcy is in the eye of the beholder.”

Danny’s gaze sank to the floor, fighting a losing battle to keep his face restrained, eyes dodging away from the Doctor as he put a hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“You say that…but you don’t know what people are like.”

“Oh, I think a good 700 years of being acquainted with Earth had made sure I know.” The Doctor scoffed.

“You don’t know what being human is like! You don’t know what I’ve lost!” ripped itself from Danny’s trembling throat.

“What about my parents and the people in town? Even Tucker and Sam, forgetting what they already know, would still find me weird if they found out how deep it went! It would matter to them!”

“—You already know I’m not human; you just said so.” the Doctor replied simply.

“Do you think it would matter to me?”

Danny choked on a dumbfounded stutter.

“I…I don’t know.”

The older of the duo tapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, trying to coax the younger’s gaze upwards, with a thoughtful pause…

“Danny, did you know I have two hearts?”

Danny snapped up to look him in the eye.

“It’s true!” the alien crowed in mock defence, “You must’ve forgotten if you don’t remember! I’m sure I’ve mentioned it at least once!”

Leather wrinkled as he rolled up one sleeve in response to Danny’s gaping face, offering his bare wrist to him.

“Go ahead—feel my pulse; it’s right there, double time—the vascular valves have to work twice as fast to keep up with a second heart.”

Danny cocked an eyebrow, taken aback for a few short seconds before gingerly taking the Doctor’s wrist in his hand.

“Umm…how do I check for a pulse?”

“Take your index and middle finger together and put them on the wrist, underneath the base of the thumb; there’s a palpable vein there in most ‘humanoid’ species, a similar one in Time Lords as well.” As Danny fumbled to find the right spot and gesture, the Doctor mimed with his own free hand on the wrist to guide Danny on the correct position.

He fought down the light tremors of emotion in his hand as he tried to focus on the right spot beneath the time traveller’s skin, tactile attention peeled for any slight movement.

Thump-thump,

The hybrid’s eyes shot as wide open as dinner plates.

A beat rippled under the pads of his fingers, rapidly fluttering in quickly succeeding rounds of two each third of a second. It throbbed as fast as the metal-style Dumpty Humpty song he’d listened to on loop for the last two months, accelerated beyond the rabbiting thud of his heart in his chest when he ran himself ragged in the two-minute mile in ninth grade. The very rhythm of life that kept the Doctor in the universe, pushing his physiology onward, spoke clearly of the hidden contents of his ribcage.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump…

A vague fog spilled into his brain an isolated fact from tenth-grade science—a snippet of the teacher’s comparisons to show the rough scale of average resting heart rates.

The Doctor’s pulse hurried like a human pumped up on terrifying high of adrenaline…all, incredibly, while still at rest. Such a pace remained impossible for a human heart to handle alone…

A chest far more bizarre than any of the freakish physiological anomalies he had ever fathomed or dreaded discovering in his own mutated body.

“How…how fast is that?” Danny stammered in awe, pulling his hand away.

Sixth months of travels, venting and understanding, everything he owed the miraculous alien in front of him, won out beyond questioning.

The halfa shook his head vigorously.

“No…never…”

“Well, with the body I’ve got, yours certainly wouldn’t ever a problem for me. Even if there are people in your town who wouldn’t accept you, I do—and there will be other people out there in the larger universe who would, too. Even if you lose one place, you don’t lose the ability to find another—and I’m sure there are people already in your town who would find a closer place with too. From what you’ve said of your friends and sister, I’m sure they’d handle it fine in the end.”

“But I’m pretty sure they couldn’t take something like that in stride.”

“Oh, come on! What’s a little non-human physiology between friends?” the Doctor jabbed warmly, “An initial shock, inevitable as it is, wouldn’t end bonds that old just like that!”

He glanced over the other’s smaller frame.

“Want to try yours? Take some vitals to see if there’s anything different we need to know of?”

Danny frowned, unease starting to pool in the bottom of his stomach.

“But, we’re in Amity Park…”

If not now, that’s alright—but consider it for later some time; self-knowledge is very important, and courage starts with stepping up to face what frightens you.”

“No…I’ll give it a go now.” Danny decided hesitantly.

“Alright, then.” The Doctor strolled briskly down a branching corridor, disappearing down the amber hallway.

He’d gotten to check the Doctor’s pulse…so what about his own?

A bombardment from his brain halted that train of thought at a railroad crossing, forcing it to make way of a nuisance little car that jeered, ‘Try, and you’ll seal that proof in stone; if that pulse is anything non-human, you’re never unseeing that, you frea—’

Danny pounced at the scathing thought in defensive irritation as it sent his hands into another series of light shivers. Another part of him stepped in to remind him of the Doctor’s words—receiving a reluctant welcome by his conscious.

How different would it be? Was it any different from a full human’s at all? How different was it when he hadn’t really had a strong concept of what a normal human pulse actually felt like in comparison to his own? Using his own heartbeat as a frame of comparison for the Doctor’s was one thing—a point of reference to compare his pulse to another normal person’s, he did not have.

He pulled a deep, slow current of air into his lungs, trying to settle his nerves again as he fumbled with the posture of the middle and index finger, stumbling embarrassingly for a few seconds to find their claim on the thumb-side of his other wrist.

His nostrils flared with another deep breath as he steeled himself in anticipation, seconds dragging their heavy feet as he searched for a feeling of movement in his veins.

He froze in astonishment as plodding pulse gently thrummed to his touch.

Thump…thump…thump…

His…

That was his.

The giver of his own life—half-life—the very perpetuator of his existence; the fundamental thing that kept him alive from the inside, human and post-…the emissary of the complex organic pump at the centre of his once-human body…

A dizzying rush of…something indescribable surged through his body, bringing a surreal tickle of cold everywhere it flowed; the hairs on his arm stood straight upwards atop a desert of countless goosebumps cluttering his thin skin. A breath caught itself in his throat, straining his diaphragm as it pulled tightly around his chest. The sluggish pulse accelerated to a more vigorous flutter under the light touch, as adrenaline hit in the snap-short second his body screamed for air—responding to his own emotions in real time, like a viewing window cut neatly into the exterior steel plating of a mechanical marvel, giving a tantalising glimpse of a small section of the mechanism inside as it continued playing its part in the unknown, concealed whole…

He snapped out of his reverie as the Time Lord re-emerged into the console room, his arms cradling a steel bin stacked with medical equipment, a stethoscope coiled around his neck.

“…You know, I thought you weren’t that kind of doctor…?” Danny probed with shy wit.

“I am now!” he grinned, sapphire orbs glimmering humorously as a quick yank saved a digital thermometer from falling to its death off the top of the overflowing pile.

His head took on a slight tilt like a contemplative owl as he lay down his cargo and eyed the halfa’s fingers drawing a pattern into the skin of his wrist as his mouth seemed to temporarily malfunction.

“My pulse…it’s there.”

“Well, that’s one thing you have over other ghosts, then.”

The halfa probed hesitantly, “Is it too slow? …Is it human?”

“Hold on, let me take a look.” The Doctor insisted, brows squashed downwards in a neat line of concentration as thick, calloused hands took a hold of Danny’s wrist. The concentrated frown descended further as his throat hummed in thought for a few, lagging moments.

“That’s rather slow,” he rated, “Usually, the average resting rate for humans is between sixty and eighty beats per minute. Considering that you’re hardly an elite athlete, you wouldn’t be expected to go below forty to fifty at a healthy rhythm…but here it is.”

An uncomfortable gulp didn’t cure the tension in Danny’s throat.

“…how slow?”

The Doctor’s face stilled for a scant second in a familiar schooling of intense focus; six months of seeing the Time Lord in action told Danny that superhumanly precise calculations of the flow of time were running through that head, measuring speed in all but brief moment, like a supercomputer.

“…45 beats per minute, rounding up the half-seconds.”

“Damn…” his gobsmacked mouth fell open.

“It’s the ghost half affecting the human one, likely.” His friend explained simply. A pair of leather clad arms burrowed into the box and returned with handheld metallic box, snaking around a cuff of rough cloth on a length of rubber tubing, “What would be interesting is to see whether your blood pressure compensates for the heart rate in any manner—and what it does to your temperature, for that matter.”

Danny grimaced in anticipation as the blood pressure cuff slipped over his bicep. For some inexplicable reason, insistent check-ups back in the forgotten times his parents fretted constantly over a risk of childhood ecto-contamination had given him a mild aversion to blood pressure machines. It left a mark so strong, that being thrown violently across the pavement by a volatile ghost while fighting remained a more tolerable preference to having his blood pressure taken.

“It won’t take long,” the Doctor insisted as he picked up the thermometer he’d intercepted earlier, “Just stay still.”

Danny’s upper arm pressed in on itself like a squashed balloon about to burst; he ground his teeth together as a few, unpleasant seconds passed, relief flooding through him as the crushing push of the cuff retracted and gave his limb free room again. The few seconds of a thermometer pressing against his middle ear lasted for a few less, far more comfortable seconds before it chimed a small, synthesised beep.

He watched the Doctor’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“Well, your blood pressure seems to be within normal human range–not compensating for the slow blood flow at all, something else must be at work...” the Time Lord quickly evened his voice, hastily attempting to salvage the second that he looked taken aback, “…your temperature, though…that’s 26 degrees.”

“WHAT!?”

The Doctor locked onto Danny with a dumbfounded look, “…Celsius.”

Danny groaned.

“You almost gave me a heart attack! …what is it in Fahrenheit?”

“78.8, almost 79.”

“Oh…wow, that’s cold. Average people are around 90-something, right?”

“Yes; 79 would be hypothermic for full humans.” he continued, his voice leaking a hint of fascination, trailing off lightly into a short, pensive silence…

“You’re not a lot colder than I am…” his voice tumbled out airy and absent, hints of buried emotion leaking through his cracks in his straining voice…

…such a foreign tone from the elder that Danny froze.

“Time Lord core temperatures sit generally at around 12 degrees Celsius—around 53 in Fahrenheit. ” he continued, “Any human that cold would be on the brink of death—or already dead.”

As soon as the cracks opened, they sealed themselves shut—the Doctor’s voice evening to a low, serious tone leaking with hints of curiosity, leaving little trace that tension had ever been there, “Whatever is happening in your body, the ghost aspect of your biology is somehow enhancing or interfering with the human body; there has to be a trace of something sourcing all of that…”

Danny blinked as the azure light of a Sonic Screwdriver emerged out of the Doctor’s pocket and intruded into the path of his vision. The shining spot smeared a line of light, alongside the device’s typical warped buzzing, as it swept through the air in all directions along Danny’s body. He fidgeted bemusedly as the screwdriver’s whine spiked to a much higher pitch as it aligned with his chest.

“The scan has just found ectoplasmic energy readings trailing through your entire body,” Danny’s elder translated as he pulled the Sonic Screwdriver back with a deft flick of the wrist, “and it’s all gathering in one place in your chest, like streams of energy all flowing into one, teeming reservoir. There, it’s a singular point of high ectoplasmic concentration, but the overall energy doesn’t seem stationary; it seems to continue flowing around the body, become attracted to the centre point and travel through it before flowing out again, temporarily spiking the energy level in that point.”

“I don’t get it…” Danny frowned.

“It’s like a…core…” The Doctor reasoned, “Like planets have cores, and atoms have nuclei; there’s a central ‘core’ of denser energy all held together in one localised area, and the rest of the energy flows around it, like an atmosphere. As the energy changes, it’s attracted closer to the centre; the centre is the waypoint that keeps all of the ectoplasm in your body on a leash—keeps it flowing and cohesive. I wouldn’t be surprised if it also controlled your ghost half itself.”

In essence, it’s highly likely that ‘core’ is keeping your ghost form together.”

The words assaulted Danny’s ears like a crack of thunder.

His hand glided to his chest, attention peeled for a single movement, a charge, anything…a sign that wasn’t the tell-tale beat of his heart…

As he settled in the very centre—just to the right of his trudging heartbeat—he found it.

A wave of surreal, visceral lightness overwhelmed him, flooding through his very bones.

A rapid, blurry buzzing flashed in and out of existence under his palm, pulsating in his chest like a crackling electrical circuit. Dizzying confusion flooded him as fear and resentment gave way to a profound sense of relief, of near-euphoria. A spark of life erupted from the blurry sphere in his chest to every tissue, every muscle, every vein and bone in his being.

His whole body stiffened in surprise, his diaphragm forcing his lungs to take in a stuttering gasp of awe.

A desperate voice cried out in familiarity from somewhere deep within him, a cry for help, a cry for acceptance…and an overwhelming sense of oneness.

‘…This is me.’

His weak knees threatened to give out underneath him, and the concerned Doctor bolted forward to grapple him under his arms as he collapsed to the TARDIS floor like a ragdoll.

“What happened?!” the words rushed out in a tense demand.

Danny’s head snapped upwards in a swift, stiff motion; their wide eyes locked. Young sapphires bore for relentless, painstaking seconds into ancient ones.

“I can feel it…” he breathed, “It’s there...”

The Doctor’s hands flew to the stethoscope around his neck, hastily uncoiling and fitting the two prongs in his ears in a frenzy as his instructions under pressure came out, clear and sharp.

“That’s it—I’m taking a look. Shirt up, now!”

Lifting the hem of his own shirt became a fumbling mess in the boy’s dazed state as the alien placed the bell end on his chest. The cold metal of the stethoscope sent shots of ice through Danny’s skin.

Seconds drudged on in the apprehensive silence as the Time Lord listened.

“…It’s pulsing…” he concluded at last in a daze.

“That buzzing in and out, right?”

“Yes—can hear the vibration.” He elaborated, “It’s very clearly there, lodged almost over your heart; it’s nearly completely mixed in with its motions…”

His voice lowered thoughtfully.

“They appear to be working in conjunction. As the heart beats, the ectoplasmic core flares up, then quickly peters out...”

A mud of dissonance lurked in Danny’s gut as those lips twitched into a restrained smile—he could’ve sworn those worn eyes above them flickered with a glimpse of conflicting melancholy.

“In a way,” the Doctor proposed, voice trailing off absently, “it functions like a second heart…”

The smile widened warmly, though hints of vulnerable emotion cracked through a strained veil of positivity.

“In a way, you almost have two hearts as well…or perhaps one and-a-half hearts is more accurate, considering its difference to a proper organ.”

The Doctor reached down and grabbed him by the wrist to haul him to his feet; Danny’s other hand clenched instinctively on that similarly cold joint above the clamping hand in response. Two vastly conflicting pulses thundered through the pair’s sensitive tactile reception as they pulled on each other’s weight—one too rapid to be a human not sprinting down a racetrack, the other too plodding and slow for one not in a deep slumber.

Two pulses at opposite ends of a spectrum of the blatantly unearthly, but simultaneously indicators of a vaguely similar common ground…

…common enough to flood Danny’s bones with a primal, euphoric relief of belonging.

“I haven’t met anyone like that in a while—we could start a club, the two of us!” the Doctor smiled proudly, “The two-hearts club…or approximately-two-hearts, I suppose.”

“Y-yeah,” Danny grinned as his uneasy legs strengthened beneath him; the realisation that he was standing without help didn’t loosen his grip on the wrist in his hand.

“The ectoplasmic output is like background electrical interference in your chest, though, so you’ll certainly never want others to be looking at you on an electrocardiogram,” he interjected casually, “but otherwise, you’re perfectly fine.

…just remember, ‘fine’ and ‘human’ are not the same. If you can’t trust your own word, trust mine—not being ‘normal’ or ‘human’ in the eyes of planet Earth doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. Even if you came across all the close-minded humans out there who’d be happy to shove that opinion down your throat—aware of your secret or not—don’t give them that power over you and they can’t take away the fact that you’re not wrong.”

A small grin split across the half-ghost, half-human hybrid’s face.

Even if for just a small while, he could believe that.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2020 #ectoberweek2020 day 2 #pulse #doctor who #crossover #danny fenton #ninth doctor #nonhuman biology

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yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday 8/11/21

Had a writing stint where I pumped out 7K words in 3 days when I usually manage only..200-500 a week. Here’s some snippets of a WIP with my Gray-Ace Inquisitor Tallin and a very understanding Solas as they navigate her very first romantic/sexual feelings for anyone, ever (24 and never been kissed except that one time in the Fade, baby!!). She is a very nervous person by nature...

————-

Please just a crumb of feedback. A gif. An emoji. Please. I’m on my goddamn knees.

[snippet 1]

"Tell me 'no', and we can resume as we were without enmity. You are also at liberty to tell me to take my leave, in which case I hope to see you in the morning..." He stopped before her, drawn to his full height, head tilted slightly in a manner akin to a wolf intent on ascertaining a curious vision. “But if you choose for me to remain, you must decide once more. At your behest, I will gladly provide the chaste company of which you are so accustomed. We will sit. We will talk. We will read. We will retire in an exhausted fashion to bed. You will cozy up beside me like a nugling to its nestmate, content. But if you say 'yes', if you wish to learn how it is the wolves dance.."

The light gray of his eyes suddenly darkened and his lips spread wide and sharp, rendering him impish, lupine. Tallin's heart lurched, but to her inner wonder it was not accompanied by a familiar queasy unease. Her instincts were not screaming for her to bound away like a skittish halla from the man standing before her. Instead, the soft heat in her lower stomach flared like a bonfire given new life, its flames crawling up inside her chest, licking beneath her lungs. In the rare instances where someone looked at her in such a way--like she was something to be snatched up, like she was something edible--she retreated, recognizing that the individual had wordlessly marked her as prey.

Would it be so terrible to have him as her pursuer? That was what he was implying, wasn't he? That he had been observing her in that particular manner far longer than this emergent sense of craving.

What made it so different from the other times? What made his approach far less threatening?

The consideration, she realized. He is considerate.

If she was a halla, then he was a..a..

Her eyes flicked down momentarily in thought, landing on the dark jawbone hanging low over his chest from thin leather cords.

And here and now, she realized she had always had her answer. He was a wolf. A wolf with a wistful man's soul.

Their method of courting until now, if it could be called that, had not been a simple 'chase'. No, the wolf had deigned not to pursue, for it recognized the halla did not wish to be hunted down. If this particular halla was ever compelled to bolt, it would not do so while also secretly relishing the idea of hot frantic breath on its heels or teeth sinking into its throat.

"..then with your blessing I will take you to your bed and claim everything you are, everything you are willing to give. I will unravel you as easily spun silk, uncover for us both your desires that remain unnamed."

He shifted and out of the corner of Tallin's eye, a shadow moved. His words had coiled her up like an Orlesian spring toy, promises that spoke of capitulation and submission and frightening loss. Her head felt hollow, her skin tight and brittle. The anxious fire in her chest roared in its hearth unabated.

Her breaths shallowed. This was happening. Everything was happening. He was describing the clumsy mental images she had been too cowardly and too embarrassed (and too confused) to acknowledge. All of this, everything, was happening too much and too fast. She knew nothing of his predilections. She knew nothing of what she wanted other than to be with him. Beyond the bare minimum for procreation, the stories of brutal violence inflicted upon elf women by peasants and nobles, and the confusing comments made in passing by the Iron Bull, she didn't know what to expect.

If you speak it, you will make it real.

He raised his hand. She froze, spine taut. His expression gentled, edges shaved. The backs of his fingers stroked her cheek. "I will have you in the manner that a lover should. Gently. Sweetly."

As if he had woven a spell, Tallin gradually relaxed into the touch. It was not necessarily of her own volition, but she knew this. Nothing frightening ever came of this. This was familiar. Safe.

She heard Solas hum, thoughtful. "Yes, a gentle touch for a gentle girl. Would that please you?"

She swallowed, caught his hand and turned her head to press her lips against his hot palm. The world was silent for several moments. "W-Would you..?" She croaked. A question with many budding branches.

Would you..?

..be gentle?

..do all that you say?

..treat me kindly?

..love me?

Another step, and they were flush together. Her hand found his tunic and scrunched the material in her fist. As a precaution or an anchor she did not know.

He loomed over her fully now, both hands coming to cradle her face as if she were blown glass, gray sky eyes beholding her like Mother. Love. But now, also..

She offered no resistance when he tilted her head just so. He leaned in. His breath was scorching mint against the whorls of her ear.

"Yes. Until you can hardly stand it."

[snippet 2]

"You wish to-? Oh, 'ma'lath.." The tenderness in his voice made her eyes sting for but a moment. The casual nature in which he extracted her hand from the half-hard presence pressing against breeches could not fully offset the surge of embarrassment she felt. As Solas busied himself with kissing the knuckles of her offending hand, she silently berated herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Tallin."

Tallin started. To her chagrin, she found Solas peering at her over her curled hand, his gaze firm and knowing. The internal self-abuse had been playing itself across her face.

She couldn't do this, she realized. She didn't know *how* to do this. He was trying to coach her through it but what if nothing stuck? What if she kept making mistakes, misreading signs? What if this was all a put-on for *her* sake? What if he didn't want her and was doing this to placate her, as he had so many other times? Lovers had to touch each other, she knew that much, and for him to except himself from this exercise, it reeked of...

"Tallin." His voice said through the dull ringing in her ears. "Tallin."

"Ir abelas." This was a mistake, a horrible mistake. She turned away, intent on rolling off the bed and..where would she go? She didn't know. The blood pounding in her ears was making it so difficult to *think*.

An arm wrapped around her waist as firm a steel band, digging into her stomach. She struggled half-heartedly, frustrated tears leaking from her eyes.

"S-Solas.." she protested.

"Tallin. Come back to me, my love." She shook her head and bit her lip to hold back a pathetic whimper. Not to deny him, but to help rid herself of the looming thoughts.

Selfish. This was selfish. 'I desire you, you desire me, but I demand that I take from you and give you nothing back.' That wasn't how it was supposed to go, was it? It didn't sound right.

But she was greedy for comfort. Always craving it.

[snippet 3]

"Shh, shh. No. You are not like most others. You were born with a heart that hungers endlessly for love, but eyes that cannot see that the source from which you drink remains full no matter how often you sip. It is your nature, but it can be tamed with practice. You can learn to ignore these pressing doubts, in time."

"I want to do this. I want to feel this burning, to learn where it might go, but.. I'm still nervous about..you, and where you..fit."

"That is not an uncommon concern, vhenan."

"So I've heard. But what if I never overcome it? What if it still..frightens me? If you accepted it--"

"--I would accept it." His tone was firm, almost indignant.

"--then it would only be me that was benefitting from this. It would only be me that was taking."

Solas barked a laugh, making Tallin jump.

When he finally settled, his grin had not abated--a full one that revealed straight white teeth and sharp canines, crinkled eyes that glowed with pure mirth.

Tallin lay there, confused and a bit put out, by her hahren's strange reaction.

"'Ma'vhenan, there is so much more to sex than that." He chuckled again, the sound decidedly doting. "You see yourself as taking advantage of me, of taking while offering nothing in return until you have used me all up, yes?" A reluctant nod. "But you have never considered to ask how I feel in all this?"

Tallin blinked.

"In matters of state you display exemplary feats of compassion and empathy, but in matters of the heart you are callous to yourself. You believe that sex is a matter of 'taking', but that is far too reductive for what this is. Pleasure does not solely originate from taking or receiving. Giving is just as lucrative. In giving, I would be receiving your pleasure. The joy in giving a gift is to receive another's happiness, is it not?

"Y-Yes.."

"And do you not see that you are a gift to me?"

"I am?"

"Yes. Your trust that I will do right by you in this matter is a precious gift, one I will hold close to my heart. That you offer me the opportunity to teach you despite your lingering reservations is no small gesture."

[snippet 4]

"I love you." She said, muffled. "Ar lath ma."

"Lathan na. Bellanaris. Please understand that this is a request I must refuse. The time to learn of me will come later." At the familiar sight of Tallin's brow furrowing in confusion, he hummed, a serene enigmatic smile on his face as he cupped her inked cheek. He leaned in and planted an affectionate kiss upon her forehead before resting his against hers, peering into her puzzled brown eyes. "Tonight we are learning about you. This is your first experience not just with a man, but with pleasure. I will not risk overwhelming you with my wants when you have yet to determine what it is you yourself desire." Another kiss. "Slowly, 'ma'vhenan, slowly is best."

Sheepishly, "O-Okay, but I only wanted--"

He was quick to silence her with a kiss. "I know, I know, and you are so good to have offered." His voice dropped into a purr. "So good for me.." His mouth was on hers again, hot and surprisingly eager. Tallin's eyes widened, then fell closed at the familiar brush of his tongue against her lips. Thick honey-heat pooled beneath her skin; her hands found his shoulder and nape to instinctively pull him close as she obediently opened her mouth.

They clashed and fed upon each other's taste. She discovered his: sugar and..lemon. Lemon cake? It tasted good, a faint playful zing on her tongue.

Time and sense gradually slipped away with the air in her lungs. At some point he turned them both so she lay on her back. With his knees staked on either side of her, he could hover over her while avoiding making her feel trapped. Considerate, she thought with a burst of love, he is so considerate.

Solas was the first to pull away, and Tallin was only a little surprised that the soft noise of disappointment that she made at their parting didn't inspire any embarrassment in her.

What did make her blush furiously, though, was the show Solas made in how thoughtfully he licked his lips as he paused to catch his breath, grinning the whole time. "..mmh, an intriguing mystery."

Tallin didn't know if it was the lack of air or the wondrous nature of the kiss, but she couldn't connect the dots with what he was saying. "W-What?"

"The taste of you. I wonder what it could be. No, don't tell me." he clarified when she made a move to speak. He hummed to himself as his thumb rubbed the space beneath her lower lip, his grin simplifying into a satisfied smirk. Tallin felt another flare of heat radiate over her cheeks. "I will find out for myself soon enough."

And he descended upon her with his lips and tongue as fervently as before. She soon began to pant as she found herself once again suffocating on his sweet breaths. He seemed intent on fulfilling his promise. She could never have imagined a kiss to be this fierce, this hungry. He was devouring the very taste out of her mouth! And to her surprise she found she..liked it. She liked it as much as the soft and gentle kisses. Where those were affirming his devotion, these were confirmation that the desire she felt for him wasn't one-sided.

#wip wednesday #solas #tallin lavellan #solavellan #my writing #my fanfiction #gray ace #asexual #dragon age #DA:I

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moonlightwinterdxxix · 4 years

Note

MOONLIGHTWINTERDXXIX! Ready for another request attack!? 🤣 I'm here for Sutabaa Zaimoku identity shenanigans the SEQUEL! 😎✨ Somehow Kara's weird nice guy habits had actually worked?! He got on the good side of a visiting Sutabaa's overseas higher up by sheer luck and when they arrive to Sutabaa for whataver they mistaken Totty as Kara. Will Totty abuse this chance for nepotism to rise from his janitor position? Or will customer Kara unexpectedly arrive in all his glory and threaten this ruse?!

@yisongye For #make Karamatsu smile—the Bullied boys now have time to shine outside TVV xD

For those who are new, this is the continuation of this fic here.

~~~

Leaving its slanted position from the angle it was creating from the floor, Todomatsu raised the mop vertically and glared. “Stop laughing.”

“Pfft...! Okay, first you told me to stop talking,” Atsushi confirmed through snorts, shoulders rocking, “now you want me to stop laughing. What do you want me to actually do, Todomatsu? Make up your mind.”

“Leave. Go home. I don’t want you in here anymore. You’re making it a billion times worse.”

“Alright, come on. This is the thing, Todomatsu,” Atsushi said, resting his elbows on the table and raising a smug eyebrow that made Todomatsu want to punch his face so badly. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if you were being casual. Just a casual joe that’s cleaning tables, mopping the floors, doing his job, basically. But wearing your brother’s tacky sunglasses while working is what made you a sight more painful than him himself.”

“It’s his fault this all happened!” Todomatsu exclaimed, spreading a hand. “You have absolutely no idea what he said to the manager, and if you did...! If you were in my shoes, you’ll live with embarrassment for the rest of your life! He told me everything! I didn’t even want to wake up the next day after what he told me!”

“You’re overreacting,” Atsushi said, taking a sip from his latte. “I’m sure it wasn’t so bad. If he was pretending to be you, he couldn’t have possibly broken character enough that he’d make you look like a painful—”

“Then the sun, that glorious sun! Oh, it was the rose’s guardian angel, sending it a spirit for life and the will to fight forward! Oh, and it would now attract all the butterflies that followed a path so similar to it’s!” Todomatsu mimicked, posing with Karamatsu’s flair and voicing the lines with the lowest his voice can drop. Dramatically.

Atsushi burst out laughing.

“H-Hey! Shut up!”

“You’re right! It’s embarrassing!” Atsushi guffawed.

“Oh, wait until then!” Todomatsu snapped, resuming his work as he cleanly ridded the spot where a baby had spilt its mother’s drink. “The time will come when the same humiliation will happen to you. Don’t think that just because you have money and riches your life will be all fine and dandy. I promise that you will find failure soon. Just you wait.”

“Ooh, scary,” Atsushi drawled. “Doesn’t help that you’re wearing his glasses though. Why are you even doing that? To hide your identity? Everyone in the Ward knows of that face belonging to a sextuplet NEET, Todomatsu. That does nothing to your case.”

“Better safe than sorry. It’s better than having my own identity out in the world. Have Karamatsu instead—he’s the one most associated with failure.” He blew a raspberry, rolling his eyes. “You’ll eat your words soon, dumbbell,” Todomatsu vowed, grabbing a water bottle from his belt and spraying the floor. “I swear to Cod, you’ll eat your words and—”

“Todomatsu Matsuno?”

Someone suddenly was in front of the employees’ door of the establishment against the wall, and both Todomatsu and Atsushi were stunned to find a beautiful girl standing there, her eyes shining like those of the universe, all planets aligned and the sun at its brightest.

She had long, wavy brown hair that touched all the way to her waist, a bangs that brushed her eyebrows before parting at the sides, overlapping her ears. She had a large bust, which grabbed their eyes, but she also had long legs that they could see through her khaki pants. A notepad peeped out of the apron of her Sutabaa work uniform.

“Todomatsu Matsuno?” the girl echoed, smiling faintly, almost relieved. “Was that you? Oh, I never thought I’d actually see you! I heard snippets of your interview the other day, and I didn’t think I would be able to see you again. Anyway, I think I need to introduce myself formally to you. My name’s Sen. And I’m gonna be a co-worker of yours for the entire month.”

Todomatsu did nothing else but look at her, cheeks reddening as the sunglasses went askew on his nose.

“I’m the Sutabaa manager from Paris, see? But still a Japanese native,” the girl—Sen, went on. “I recently decided to take a trip back to Japan so I can see how the employees do their tasks here. And I was just in time too. A made a recent notice of the lack of appeal in customer service and entertainment, but I can associate the opposite of that with the fanfaronade you put on. At least, what I just heard right now and the other day. I assume that really was your interview, wasn’t it?”

“Y...Yeah,” Todomatsu breathed.

“Great! Because I think I might be considering lifting your position off being a janitor if that was the case,” Sen told them, taking out her notepad and pen. Her fingernails were decorated with fancied stickers of the Eiffel Tower. “With your flow of words, we might be able to attract more customers to the establishment. Imagine being talked about as that cashier man with a Shakespearean dictionary in his vocabulary. Wouldn’t that spark interest?”

No. Yes? Perhaps? Todomatsu didn’t think a Karamatsu persona would’ve sparked any interest from anyone or anything? Not even an ant’s or a cockroach’s.

And yet...If this meant not being a janitor anymore...

“Of course, only if you don’t mind,” Sen said, jutting down on her notebook. “If you aren’t willing to act so in front of customers, we won’t force you too. But your gentlemanly manner when you speak might make some progress in this building when it comes to getting people to come. It’s a suggestion I’ve already spoken to your main manager about. Now I want to ask you! Are you willing to do it, Todomatsu-san?”

“E-Eh?!” Atsushi squeaked, and Todomatsu continued to stare at her.

Then he blinked beneath the sunglasses. Then his lungs refilled with air, and his imagination lit up with his proud-to-behold Todomatsu Matsuno wisdom. He smirked, transferred the mop to his other hand, using his free one to touch his hairline with two fingers. “Of course, my dear! And I’d be happy to perform more Shakespearean might you give me the opportunity to! After all, I am Todomatsu Matsuno, master of the fine art, a man of theatre through-and-through!”

“Oh!” Sen expressed (cutely to the mens’ eyes), eyebrows rising.

“EEEHHH?!! O-Oi! Todomatsu! What the hell are you doing?!” Atsushi demanded, rising slightly from his chair.

Dropping the mop, Todomatsu slid over to Sen, a finger-gun following the shape of his jaw as he grinned narcissistically. “My, what ever is the problem, Atsushi? Can you not see that I’m being as normal as I can be? I am flattered by this woman’s suggestion, and all I want is to make her feel welcome in these crowded, sorrowful Tokyo streets. You are quite a foreigner yourself, in a way, are you not, sweetheart?” He knelt down, grabbed her hand. “I apologize for the inconvenience, dear. You make my heart melt.” He kissed her hand—it was so soft. Like, so, so soft that it was impossible for something to be that soft.

She chuckled.

Atsushi sputtered.

And Todomatsu wanted to as well. Because he wanted to scream so badly and yank his soul out of his body for the stupid idea he had concocted. Because...Because...BECAUSE LOOK AT THIS! He was posing with that stupid grin of his stupid brother while wearing those stupid glasses and was talking in that stupid accent all because Karamatsu had ruined Todomatsu’s chances for work with a stupid mistake because of his stupid brain and—!

Okay, keep it together, Todomatsu. Look on the bright side. He was a janitor, he was cursed with this hex of Satan since the day Karamatsu left the womb. And this was unacceptable, more than being a baby brother that everyone looked down on! This woman...She could change that. Hell, she could turn him from a lowlife into the manager himself! If Todomatsu followed her guidelines, matched her standards, made himself the appealing man she wanted to view...Yes, this was going to be his debut as the boss of his own life!

And so what if Karamatsu was the key to that?! Karamatsu was the key to success, and no one cared for Karamatsu’s own failure! These NEETs were selfish bastards after all!

Heck, Todomatsu was that desperate! Yes! Yes! But he didn’t care, for everyday he was already dying with the thirst for change! Change in his life, change in his pathetic, why-am-I-alive existence! He had no friends—only acquaintances who would never stay longer than twenty minutes! His life was littered with five matching levels of garbage, sharing his bed and face that made him look as terrible as them! But he wasn’t! And he wasn’t going to be defined like that any freaking more!

Yes! Hell yes! This was the true form of this Todomatsu-sama, the one who will be the first of his NEETy brothers to find love alongside work! So what if he was a cursed janitor?! He was an official graduate from the status that had once colored him at the bottom of the caste system, and this woman was going to be his diploma! Hell yes, he won!

And there was even a plus. This girl was into this, and if he continued this painful persona he might have a chance to actually keep her. No more virginity for this youngest dirty monster, because he was going to be able to smash her and make her his by acting his part as the best boyfriend she could ask for! So what if she was a princess?! A lady of romance and theatrics and the arts?! She was still an unattainable woman who any of these stupid NEETs would pine for for ages! Lifetimes! A keeper to the max despite maybe bad taste in vocabulary, but that was besides the point!

Todomatsu could keep her. Hell, he can keep her. If he was this perfect cashier, he can keep her. Beat the hell out of his brothers, and become the true role model that Choromatsu and Osomatsu were far from being! All because he was a loser, therefore there was no one else he could grab! Because Iyayo and Chibimi were plastic dolls and Kinko was a woman of true culture...Because Totoko hated them like scum and Homura was in love with someone else...!

Hell yeah, there was so much he could gain, this baby demon of the Matsuno hellhole...All he needed to do now was act the part. Act the part.

What would Karamatsu say, and how can it be said for this woman’s attraction? Hm, he needed to summon his inner Karamatsu, if there even was one. Because just like the rest of his brothers, having an inner Karamatsu was like saying that they had a tree growing over their heads. It was impossible. Because having an inner Karamatsu was one of the things they as NEETs did not want to have.

But this woman. She wanted a Karamatsu.

Todomatsu smirked. Fine. For her, he’ll play the part.

“Have you always been a theatrical one, Todomatsu-san?” Sen asked, tucking a few collective strands of hair behind her ear after hiding her notebook and pen again. “Or is this a new thing after graduating?”

Hmm, how was he going to answer this? Should he be honest and tell her that the only thing he’s ever done involving theatre was dunk bird turd on someone’s script, or should he go with the Karamatsu flow and tell her that acting has always been a hobby since the day he could walk? What would this woman want to hear? Todomatsu pondered, forced his brain cells to click and tick and turn their gears...Hmm...

Then—

Todomatsu posed, raising an arm and bending another. “I had no plan!” he announced.

Sen’s mouth formed a tiny circle. Atsushi face-palmed.

“Heh, I’ve always went with the flow of my own wind, dear beautiful Sen,” Todomatsu enumerated smoothly, dropping the octaves of his voice, which wasn’t so hard. He was already gifted to have a deep voice whenever he yelled (something Choromatsu once mentioned to him, that rising, fapping loser), and so mimicking Karamatsu’s original tone wasn’t that difficult as an activity. That, and this woman had never met Karamatsu in person, so he had the safety of a thousand nets and trampolines to catch his sky-high fall.

“Theatrical arts, drama, cherry blossoms in the wind, a heart of blue.” Oh god, Todomatsu wanted to slap himself so hard, wanted to slice his tongue with a cleaver and haul it into the mouth of hell. Speaking Karamatsu was speaking the language of agony. If this was what being the childhood best friend of Karamatsu resulted in, then maybe it was better if none of that ever happened at all. “It was my mind, cured with the peacefulness of my being, that opened my existence in a fantasy worth exploring. The unknown. Skies and trees that breathe the air of purity that is being wiped from this earth. It tears my soul and rips my being into shreds.”

Atsushi snorted, turning away. That goon, Todomatsu was gonna deal with him later.

“Ooh, how poetic,” Sen commented, her hair bouncing as she tilted her head. “How did you gather your vocabulary?”

How did Karamatsu gather his vocabulary? How did Karamatsu gather his vocabulary? HOW DID KARAMATSU GATHER HIS VOCABULARY? When they were freaking kids, Karamatsu wasn’t even able to determine the differences between ‘limbs’ and ‘limbo’! How the hell did he come from that turd of an idiot into a man with a dictionary built into his throat?!

“Heh, by being myself,” Todomatsu answered painfully, trying not to reach over to wipe the sweat pooling behind his ears and running down his nape. “I’m a natural at my strengths, the best of my kind. Because I’m a loner, but at the same time I have my own hands to support me might I fall. Heh, I’m a tower of storms.”

“You definitely are. Very destructive too,” Atsushi chortled, eyes directed elsewhere but the killer’s promise of a glare on Todomatsu’s face.

“Wait a minute,” Sen said, a finger touching those beautiful lips of hers. “Todomatsu-san, have I seen you before? I thought you looked familiar and remembered that I saw someone looking like you yesterday. Were you at the park yesterday taking a swim in the river dressed in a yellow baseball uniform?”

Todomatsu flinched so hard that his soul felt like it had just poked the waves of an ocean made of lava. “No, that wasn’t me! It was a stranger, surely! I hate baseball, always have!”

“Only since today,” Atsushi muttered. Todomatsu was internally sending him two of his middle fingers which tips had holes for bullets.

“But the other day, I thought I saw you too?” Sen asked. “Wearing red this time. Playing at Pachinko? And you had a very large bruise on your face while you left the parlor crying. I assume you lost the gamble after getting into a fight?”

Shit! Damn you, Osomatsu! “Nope! Pachinko is not my turf in the slightest!” Todomatsu lied, puffing out his chest because he felt like deflating into an airless blob of rubber.

“Yet you won yesterday,” Atsushi stated quietly behind his hand.

“And also, in the mixer? I saw someone in pink looking like you leave it recently,” Sen followed up, crossing her arms. “Well, not to defy you or anything, but are you the mixer type really, Todomatsu-san? With your flair and all, your humble personality, I don’t think you need a mixer to determine your acquaintances and your friends.”

“Heh, fret not, my queen,” Todomatsu schmoozed, wanting to stab himself for each ‘heh’ he had to gag out. “This man here is still as packed with friends as a man can be.” Which was half true and half lie. Todomatsu was one with peers, but Karamatsu was a member of the trash gang. Meaning, friends were flies, and peers were the dirty streets that only cats were willing to walk because they too were stupid enough not to understand anything in life.

Sorry not sorry, Ichimatsu.

“Oh, alright then,” Sen said, then bowed. “I guess I was just thinking about your successful interview too much then.”

“Oh, it is quite fine,” Todomatsu fibbed, planting very sweaty hands against his hips. “I am alone in my features—there’s no one else like me at all. If there was, it’s probably a doppelgänger signaling death that looms over me. Therefore I am the one and only, Sen-chan. Todomatsu Matsuno.”

Atsushi turned away, shoulders shaking.

Sen chuckled. “If you say so, mister Matsuno. So, are you up for it, Todomatsu-san? Would you accept my invitation to be a cashier instead of a janitor?”

“Yes, my sweet! I am glad to oblige!” Todomatsu hollered, spreading out his arms. “I shall prepare myself for all the hi’s and hello’s I can offer to any passersby for this fine establishment! Give the word and I shall motion with the swift energy of lightning!” Smirking painfully, he posed, spreading his legs out, resting one of his elbows over his other hand, and he flicked his bangs before sending Sen a finger gun. “Like lightning. Bang.” He inched his fingertip.

Atsushi exploded into full-on laughter.

“Alright then,” Sen said, nervously cutting Atsushi a look as she slowly retreated into the staff room. “I’ll let them know, so wait here. Let me make the arrangements for you, alright?”

“Heh. You are the true Samaritan, dearest Sen,” Todomatsu gritted out with the flawless character of his brother.

Then waving, Sen closed the door behind her.

Todomatsu snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you, you turd-hole?!” he yelled, gripping Atsushi’s dark collar and shaking him with the mercy of a madman. “Stop making me look as transparent as I already am! It’s bad enough that I need to be that stupid-as-hell brother in order to win back my pride, moron! And don’t question how I can impersonate the goon, and I too want to straight-up murder my past self for ever thinking that being friends with that painful Shittymatsu was a good idea! So shut the hell up!”

“Yo, Totty!” Atsushi called out, still smiling through the force shoving him back and forth. “Why didn’t you just tell her no? You don’t have to put up a Karamatsu everyday if you don’t want to! Be a janitor in freedom! It’s still worth it!”

“And let myself still look like an effing NEET in the process?! Not a chance!” Todomatsu fumed, releasing Atsushi and pouting, folding his arms. “You won’t understand. You have everything already. Why not just be a comrade and let me have this? I know it sucks and it hurts and it’s painful as fu—!” Pausing, he doubled over, and he vomited a waterfall of glitters onto the floor. The Karamatsu was really getting into him.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Atsushi said, shrugging casually as Todomatsu straightened up again, wiping his lips. “If you want to or not, it’s your choice. You’re the only one balancing on your own lifeline. Each choice you make affects you, and there’s no one else that can do anything about it.”

“Meh, I guess that’s true.” Finally, Todomatsu had the urge to pull Karamatsu’s sunglasses off his face to look at. Just the blue of them reflecting the light from the restaurant made him want to snap them and toss them out into the Bermuda Triangle. “Still though. If it makes me get more than what I already have, Imma be up for the challenge. Time to be Karamatsu-niisan.” He returned the shades. “I dunno how long I can pull this off—if I do at all.”

Atsushi snorted. “Wish you luck. How long you can keep this up will color me curious as well.”

~~~

One week. It was one entire week of painful dialogue and flamboyant posing. It was one week with Todomatsu being responsible for those awful sunglasses that Karamatsu had been looking for whenever they came back home after days under Akatsuka Ward’s sun. It was one week of heh’s and hm’s, and each time Todomatsu wanted to throw a fit and dump on a table the same way Ichimatsu would. He was angry, he was embarrassed, he just wanted to end his suffering with a knife to the chest or whatever lame shtick.

“You’re doing great, Todomatsu-san,” Sen would tell him, and it was kind of true. Customers did seem very satisfied with Karamatsu’s dialogue floating to their ears, and it made Todomatsu question humanity in its intelligence. It was either he was dumb or the world was dumb, and he voted for the latter due to his excessive pride. That, and he needed reassurance of something, because working as a cashier mimicking his older brother didn’t deduce the NEETiness he felt like was still sewn into his system.

He didn’t answer any questions from anyone else though. If it were Aida and Sachiko that were close by in their shifts, Todomatsu would be able to cut away the sheets of Karamatsu’s ghost long enough for him to be normal, the same Todomatsu ‘Totty’ Matsuno that the two baristas knew. As for his brothers, he was always mopey when taking orders from them if they ever came, and they always left Sutabaa with knowledge only on the purchased drink rather than the persona that broke loose with other customers. Todomatsu was glad of the stupidity of Jyushimatsu and the lack of comment from Ichimatsu.

And then...The day came.

“One strawberry latte for Nishimiya,” Sen announced, scribbling the name on a large cup with a black marker.

“Heh. Blueberry cheesecake for Shimizu,” Todomatsu added, wanting to let a large portion of glittery vomit escape his throat again. “Kindly help yourselves to table four, my dear. You wait there for the meantime—your hunger will be satisfied momentarily.” He lowered his sunglasses, winking. And when the customer smiled at him in appreciation, it was obvious she didn’t notice how much pressure Todomatsu had to put into his muscles just to make himself appear his way.

“Right, Totty, right?” Sen left the table, handing the cup to him. “I’ll be on my break now. Can I leave it to you?”

“Heh. If that may assist thy fatigue, I’d be willing to move mountains for you.” Shoot, shoot, SHOOT! Just kill him already, Akatsuka-sensei so he didn’t have to do this bullhooey anymore! But this ‘bullhooey’ seemed to deem him fine for now as Sen bobbed her head, entering himself into the opposite room as she closed her door.

The bell above the Sutabaa entrance chimed.

A sigh.

Time stopped for Todomatsu, and for a moment there was nothing he could do but transform into a frozen block of ice. But his recovery was swift, and before notice Todomatsu took off his sunglasses as a pair of leather-sleeved elbows propped themselves on the counter.

“Good morning, Todomatsu,” Karamatsu said, smiling sadly at his brother. Sadly? Why sadly? Shoot, that meant he was going to blow up into painful monologuing territory that will be sure to either end his life, or Todomatsu’s. Bullsh—“I’d just want a coffee, please. Extra sugar, maybe?” Karamatsu went on, devoid of joy.

Todomatsu gulped. “Ah, right. Wh...Why are you here, Karamatsu-niisan?” His gaze darted through the area, hoping for no familiar faces to question him and his conversation with his lookalike brother. Thank goodness the timing had Sen leaving for a while before anything else bad could happen, because Todomatsu swore to Cod, bad stuff was indeed going to happen.

“Need a little time to think, perhaps?” Karamatsu said, lowering his own blue sunglasses. It was a fun thought, Todomatsu imagined, to continuously rid Karamatsu of any of his glasses by breaking them in half or tossing them into a gorge, but a spare would always find themselves on his face the following day. Wonder how many he had tucked in their closet? His entire allowance, most likely. No wonder he has only his 10% chances of winning in pachinko.

Karamatsu continued, “Because there was this very beautiful woman, and for a while I might’ve called her mine, but...” He gripped his elbows with opposite hands, fingers sinking into his sleeves, “she rejected my confession,” he squeezed out.

Todomatsu remained unfazed. Alright. So? Todomatsu didn’t give a dang about Karamatsu’s tragic love story. “So you thought that coming here to mope would be a good idea? Why not just follow Osomatsu-niisan in Pachinko or go fishing with Choromatsu-niisan?”

“Heh. They had their own activities planned for this lonely afternoon,” Karamatsu told him, and Todomatsu felt the horror of old English penetrating through him. “And is it wrong that I wanted to spend time with my dear littlest brother? I missed days where we trekked the world solo. I guessed that maybe time with him again would lift my soul from the pits in where it has fallen into. Crammed with skeletons...O-Oh, Totty! My heart is weeping, my brother!” He extended his arms and tightened them around Todomatsu, pulling the younger man towards him before sobbing on his shoulder.

Todomatsu went rigid, praying to everyone in the skies listening not to have anyone barge in during this absolutely humiliating moment of Todomatsu’s probable fall from grace.

“And she was a delicate flower too!” Karamatsu wept, clinging to Todomatsu with all his might. Cod, the counter edge was digging into Todomatsu’s stomach...! “Beautiful and compassionate and oh! Such an ideal diamond, brother! And yet I was not anything to her!” He wailed, breathing jagged as he mashed his face onto Todomatsu’s collar, letting it absorb his misery.

“Ugh! Keep it down, Shittymatsu!” Todomatsu hissed, prepping his hands over Karamatsu’s chest in preparation to push him away. “I’m at work, for crying out loud! And what kind of idiot customer walks up to the cashier to cry? Are you that stupid?”

Thankfully preserving the need for Todomatsu to do the deed himself, Karamatsu released his younger brother, leveling Todomatsu’s gaze with confusion setting as the emotion in his tear-filled eyes. “Umm...Cashier? I thought you were a janitor?”

Oh, Cod-damn it. Todomatsu cringed. Karamatsu didn’t know yet, couldn’t know, will never ever know...! If he knew who knew what kind of shtick Todomatsu will have to put up with and what kind of life he will forever be living with regret and—!

The staff room door opened. “Totty! I think I forgot my wallet here and—” Sen paused, staring at the brothers before flinching. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t think there was a customer! Please, carry on, sir! You...!” Her eyebrows furrowed as she trailed off, gears clicking in her head. “...look exactly like Totty. Are you brothers? And he’s got a leather jacket and...Huh?”

Karamatsu blinked, thick brows curved questioningly. “Yes, I’m his brother. And are you...? Totty, are you alright, my dear brother?”

Holy crap! Cod, crap-crap-crap! Todomatsu felt his blood run dry. “Ah, yeah! Karamatsu! Sen-chan! I, um, heh!” He suddenly grabbed Karamatsu’s wrist and dragged him off, not waiting for anything else as he led Karamatsu out the Sutabaa door and outside the building to its side. Behind a wall, where no one sale might see them. Might. Because no one important was going to need glancing at a pair of brothers that looked closest to being members of slavery in the caste system.

Which they were, mind you. But not Todomatsu, if Karamatsu decided not to screw things up.

“Huh? Todomatsu, what’s going on?” Karamatsu asked as Todomatsu parted his grip on Karamatsu, massaging his temper and tingling veins for tranquility that didn’t want to come.

“Look. I can explain some other time, but for now, just effing follow my lead, got it, niisan?” Todomatsu ordered lowly, cautious for stares. Sen, the manager, Aida, Sachiko, or any of their foolish brothers. “I am the cool one, you’re the same loser as you always were. Picture yourself when you were eighteen, or just think about your heartbreak. You’re a goner from life. And you have no idea how to speak with your normal, flashy speech patterns.”

Karamatsu was nothing but confused. “Eh?”

Scoffing irritably, Todomatsu snatched the glasses from Karamatsu’s face and put them on himself, then proceeded to take off Karamatsu’s leather jacket from his brother’s body. That stupid shirt had the painful man’s face on it...! Alright, he can find a way around that. All he needed to do was be creative. Karamatsu was already an actor of some sort, so there was no need to...! Bah! Freaking heck with it! Making up stories was never difficult when you grew up as a liar!

Todomatsu flipped the leather jacket over his own shoulders and lifted his chin at Karamatsu.

“Todomatsu?” Sen called out. “Are you two over here?”

Just in time. Todomatsu elbowed Karamatsu’s gut, and after a grunt from him, Todomatsu said, “Follow. My. Lead. Or I’m going to burn all of your clothes before you even blink again.”

“Eh? Uh, ‘kay,” Karamatsu hesitantly agreed.

“Totty? Ah, there you two are.” Sen made herself visible as she stepped out of the corner turn. And being able to now see them openly, she stopped walking, for good reason. “Um, is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all,” Todomatsu said, speaking with an impression of his brother as he tried to wave a hand with dismissal. Cod, he could already smell the cologne. “It’s my brother here. It’s not much, but I find it quite unruly of him to root through my clothing without my permission. I’m just trying to set him straight for it again. Apologies, Sen-chan.”

“Eh?!” Karamatsu half-gasped, only faltering when he saw the stiletto aimed at him in Todomatsu’s glare. “Ah, yeah, sorry about that,” he said lightly, timidly. “I was, uh...Going through a phase? I wanted to be, uh, like him.” He pointed at Todomatsu limitedly. Todomatsu jerked his head slightly. Doing great, you lame actor. Karamatsu-niisan.

“Ah, I don’t think I should be here then,” Sen amended, backing away from them with a light flush and an apologetic smile. “If this is something personal, the last thing I want to do is walk in on your talk.”

“Heh, we’re fine, my dear. Kindly decrease your pressure on our situation,” Todomatsu soothed in a baritone, Karamatsu’s jaw lowering beside him as his eyes dilated. “We will report back to the main cafe shortly. My brother here, must only receive a brief scolding. We will be fine, such as we always can be. Right, my dear brother Karamatsu?”

Karamatsu sniffed, taking his palms to the corners of his eyes. “Cod, you’ve adapted so much...!” he sniveled proudly, and defeatedly, to Sen’s ears. “I’m so proud of you, Totty!”

Todomatsu felt a vein bob under his skin. When they were alone, he was going to kill this man.

But for the meantime, he said, “Oh, do not weep, brother! Forgiveness is always a virtue in our bloodline! I will not hold your prejudices against you! Instead, come into my arms as I will blanket you with comfort that will leave you spellbound in my affection!” And as much as he didn’t want to do it, Todomatsu spread out his arms, which were immediately touching not the air anymore but Karamatsu as he threw himself against Todomatsu’s chest.

“You sound like me! I’m so happy!” Karamatsu cried, though gratefully softly enough for Sen not to hear.

“Can it, niisan,” Todomatsu hissed in reply. “If you mess up the act none of us will be able to walk this earth again without regret dragging our ankles. Just continue being this emotional and we’ll be fine. Make me look cool here.”

“Okay, brother. I...Wait...If you’re acting like me and telling me to make you look cool...” Karamatsu hiccuped. “Does that mean you think I’m cool?” he sobbed out desperately.

Todomatsu choked, his entire body warming as his face fell red. “N-No! You’re not cool! There’s a reason for all of this and I—!”

“I’ll just leave now,” Sen said, wagging her hand as her shoes planted themselves on the ground behind her. “You two sort yourselves out. I’ll be glad to cover you for a bit, Totty, if you need time to settle things out.”

“Your heart truly was mantled from Hephaestus’s golden chamber,” Todomatsu rasped, his body and mind matted with sequins on wounds.

Karamatsu buried his head in deeper, squeezing Todomatsu tighter as Sen dipped her head and vanished from sight. Only then did Todomatsu grind his teeth together and shove Karamatsu off him, making the older man stumble back and catch himself by a pillar, blinking wetly at Todomatsu.

“Okay, enough,” Todomatsu said tersely, eyelids weighing down unamused as his arms interlaced parallel to his torso. “Karamatsu-niisan, can you please not tell anyone of this, ever? I’m gonna tell you everything, but swear to me that all this is to be kept between us. If anything comes out, your head will be what our brothers will see at the dinner table later tonight.”

“Of course! If there’s a secret, I promise of sealed lips that I would take with me to my tombstone!” Karamatsu vowed, a fist connecting to his left breast. “Reveal all you need to, my brother! I await your words.”

“Cod, that’s so painful,” Todomatsu wheezed, then cleared his throat afterwards, lowering the sunglasses for solid eye contact. “I was given the chance to become a cashier because they thought I was you. Or at least, you were me, but I think you might have an idea. They really liked your speaking patterns from the interview, and wanted that to be the first thing that customers heard when entering Sutabaa. So assuming I was you, and wanting to rise from a crappy janitor, I pretended to be you so that I can achieve that higher position. It’s my rise in the caste system, honestly. It’s all I ever wanted.”

“T...Totty...” Karamatsu breathed.

“Iya-ya, it’s not much,” Todomatsu promised, gesturing for emphasis. “But I thought it was the only shot I got. I understood you enough that it wasn’t really hard to be like you, so that was the least of my problems. But of course, it was painful as hell, since the entire week had me trying to be someone I’m not. I guess I...I...” Then the realization, for the first time, hit him, and he wrinkled the leather jacket in his hands, smacked it to the ground, and turned to walk away.

But then there was a hand clamping around his wrist, and Karamatsu had stopped Todomatsu from going any further with his promising hold. “Oi. You aren’t going without finishing that sentence, Todomatsu,” he said sternly.

“They like you more than me,” Todomatsu spat out brokenly.

Karamatsu’s reply was his muteness.

“Think about it, niisan. If it were just you trying to be me before, it would’ve landed me as nothing but a plain old janitor if nothing at all,” Todomatsu blabbered, a finger pushing up the shades as he averted his gaze to his feet. “But when you broke into you, I got the chance of being a cashier again. And now the only reason I’m keeping the job is because I’ve been trying to be you. If I were being me, what would I even be contributing to society? Nothing. Maybe that’s why I lost the job in the first place.”

Karamatsu was still holding him firmly.

“Never mind. I’m babbling nonsense you won’t understand. Sorry, Karamatsu-niisan.” Todomatsu used his free hand to rescue his eyes from the blue lenses that were casting his surroundings in aqua. Then he took Karamatsu’s other hand and pressed their surface on them, securing his fake identity with its true owner once again. “I’ll just return to work now. Pretend that you finally won over me so that they don’t ask why I’m me instead of you.”

“Totty.”

Todomatsu exhaled softly. “Hm?”

“Is that why my glasses have been disappearing all week?”

“...yes.”

“So I guess...It’s best you have your own pair, right?” Karamatsu chuckled, handing back his sunglasses. “You still need to pretend to be me, right? And I still need to pretend to be someone else?”

Todomatsu inclined his head, surprise painting him. “Eh? What do you mean? I’m giving you back your identity, you dimwit, trying to live with mine. Are you so agreeing that it’s better I fake myself instead? Is that how much I suck to you?”

“Far, Todomatsu,” Karamatsu stated steadily. “It’s because I learned before that you can learn when you pretend to be someone else. By being in someone else’s shoes, you come to realize how much there is to love about yourself. Is that not true? Is my painful personality not something you cannot stand? It is, and that’s why you even think of yourself as better than me. The last thing I want is you to think of yourself so lowly because of my accomplishments.

“Todomatsu, you were sick the day I came to the interview as you. But remember, that was the second interview. Sutabaa managed to accept you once, and was willing to do so again after you dropped out when we humiliated you. If they had seen you for who you truly were, then I’m certain that they would still be ready to welcome you again as the real Todomatsu Matsuno as you are.”

“Then...Why did you want to give me these...?” Todomatsu gasped out, trailing his thumbs over the dark blue lenses of the shades.

“I wanted to teach you that lesson,” Karamatsu said, shrugging casually with a small smirk. “But I just explained the mechanics in my agenda, so there’s no use for that now. I think it’s best you just return to Sutabaa again as yourself instead of a clone of me. Because, brother. You’re surprisingly good at it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Todomatsu said, his heart finally softening free from whatever claws had once gripped it. “I’m sorry I threw your jacket like that.”

“There’s always the laundry. Don’t worry about that.” Karamatsu laughed. “Come now, brother. I still have my coffee in the waiting, do I not? Please treat your brother to something to warm his insides from the Antarctica waters in which it has drowned.”

“Ugh, fine,” Todomatsu said, but not harshly, before looking down at the shades. “Are these really mine now though? I think they match your face better than mine. And I think they will miss you if they were gone.” Grinning, he hung the sunglasses from Karamatsu’s top, then stood back with satisfaction, hands pressed to his waist.

“Heh. Thank you, Todomatsu,” Karamatsu said, chuckling.

Then together, they went back to the entrance of Sutabaa, opening the door as Todomatsu cried out, “Sen-chan! We’re back! And we have a coffee pending for—!”

“Oh hey, you two!” Osomatsu greeted, hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he stood in front of the counter, Sen at the other side. “I was actually gonna ask where you were, Karamatsu! I heard you were working here in Sutabaa and I was curious to know if it was true!”

Todomatsu and Karamatsu gaped in unison. “Eh?!”

“But I guess I was wrong,” Osomatsu said, rubbing his nose with a finger. “Totty’s wearing the uniform. Now you make me wanna ask about the rumors: why was I hearing of a Sutabaa cashier who uses Karamatsu slang every time he gets an order? I didn’t wanna believe it, and I still don’t, but maybe I should be realizing that since it’s both of you involved! Of course Totty would have the best impersonation other than Jyushimatsu—you two were besties as kids, right? So it’s safe to say that you were looking up to Karamatsu for a while, Totty!” Osomatsu laughed.

Todomatsu’s stomach coiled. “B-But—!”

“Is that true, Todomatsu-san?” Sen asked, frowning a little.

“It’s gotta be, right?” Osomatsu continued. “Totty would do anything to get what he wants. If being a ‘Karamatsu’ would help him in his salary, then he’d do it. Just like he’d lie to other Sutabaa employees that he was from a university so big when all he was was a NEET. It’s simple—he’s a demon for a reason.”

“Wait,” Sen said, frown deepening. “Does this mean that it wasn’t Todomatsu at the interview? But Karamatsu?”

“Hah? Totty never went to any interview,” Osomatsu exposed obliviously, unaware of the jaws on the floor from the two brothers standing next to him. “Ha-ha! Sen-chan, right? You’re making me laugh here! Don’t tell me you mistook Karamatsu for Totty! I mean, I might, but they’re brothers, so identity thief shenanigans is a thing and so cheating is not hard!”

Sen stared. So did Karamatsu. Todomatsu felt his entire body burn into ashes.

~~~

Todomatsu’s butt slammed on the sidewalk from the force of the hands that had previously shoved him out of the building.

Karamatsu immediately went to his side. “Totty! Wh-What did they tell you, my brother?”

Todomatsu clicked his tongue. “I got fired.”

Karamatsu’s face fell.

“Welp, all in a day’s work, right?” Osomatsu said, spinning his heels and going ahead. “Hey, I won a bit in pachinko, by the way. Wanna try using that in some of the races? We might get half as much if I use my detective brain again to read between the lines!” He laughed. “Just like I did with you two idiots.”

Todomatsu ground his teeth. He really was surrounded by demons.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu-san #fanfic #bits of my brothers #zaimokumatsu #zaimoku #karamatsu matsuno #karamatsu #todomatsu matsuno #todomatsu #osomatsu matsuno #osomatsu #atsushi #hope ya’ll like it xD

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years

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Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 21)

22 part AU written for @cssns. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: So as promised, I am back with the next chapter, and I swear that even if I don’t answer every question, you will all breathe a lot easier this time. I really appreciate all of you for sticking with me, and also you should know that there are going to be a few extra chapters of the story now because I just keep finding more and more I need to cover in order to make the story complete. With that being said, hope you enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Get back to her. She needs you. She needs us.

The thoughts of Killian’s wolf in this moment were pronounced in ways his animal usually avoided. Normally, his wolf sent him feelings or abstract sensation, but now his animal was clear – it did not want to be far from Emma and it did not like the current state of unrest in the slightest. Killian felt the same way, and his human self-viewed all of this with just as much distaste, but David had asked him to come and so he came. Emma’s father was adamant, and Killian respected the man’s deep need to not only save his son from any undue harm, but also to spare the women who mattered most to him.

It was to that shard of rationality that Killian was clinging to. He told himself over and over again that it wasn’t safe. If David’s Uncle was really back and planning something things could get very ugly. A hunter of his skill would be formidable to say the least, and between him, his brother, and Graham it was still an unknown fight. He didn’t want Emma anywhere near that, not when she was still so new to being a shifter and when she carried their pup right now, safeguarding a miracle Killian would never dare to risk.

“How much longer until we get there?” Liam asked, his irritation at being separated from Elsa even more obvious than Killian’s own displeasure. He didn’t mean to be rude, but it came out that way. Still Emma’s father took it all in stride.

“Thirty minutes if Graham’s speed holds up.”

David spared a glance to Graham who was driving the Sherriff department’s SUV after discerning it would be better to use an official vehicle. It was highly irregular, and likely breaking ten types of protocol, but Graham had sent an alert telling all the officers in this tristate area that he was in pursuit of a time sensitive case. So far no one had interfered, and they’d been flying on the highway at almost 100 MPH, lights going the whole way.

“It’ll hold. A lot of important people owe me favors.”

That was all the explanation he offered, and Killian didn’t pry. It didn’t matter anyway. Ultimately this was the best that human police officers could do for any of them. There was no protection from many of the dangers that seemed to be just at the horizon today, and so they had to take each advantage, however small, where they could.

“Enough people that the return trip will be just as swift?” Liam countered and Graham nodded.

“What of Neal? Won’t it frighten him to be privy to all this?”

Killian asked the question with genuine concern, for though he had never met Emma’s little brother, he knew how much the boy meant to her. Family was the most important thing to Emma, and her brother was as dear to her as any brother could be despite the difference in their ages. Killian looked to David for his thoughts and for the first time since hearing of all of this, Killian saw a small smile cross Emma’s father’s face.

“On any other day being in Graham’s car going this speed would be a certifiable thrill for my son. Today is different, but he’s resilient and believe me, he’ll be just as eager to get home as we are. The sooner we get to his mother and sister the better.”

“So the protective gene is a given in your family?” Killian asked and David nodded, looking thoughtful at the assessment.

“Yes. Better prepare yourself – your son or daughter will be just as defensive of the people and things that they love.”

Killian felt pride in his chest at the mention of his child and their would-be dedication to family. He wanted nothing more than a house full of little ones who were disposed as such. God knew he’d give anything for them and their mother, and none of them were even here yet. The anticipation was so much to behold, but Killian knew without so much as looking at his and Emma’s child that they would be perfect. Any being who came from the love shared by him and his mate was the product of the truest love, and they would, by definition, be the picture of goodness and light.

“How do you handle the bad moments? The ones you can’t control.” Killian asked and David scoffed.

“You call this handling it? I’m two seconds from… God, I don’t even know.” The older man trailed off, looking haunted by the chance that this recovery wouldn’t go exactly as smoothly as they all wanted. He must feel so powerless right now, and it was that terrible sensation that Killian feared worst. What if a time came when he couldn’t protect his child? What if, in the end, his undying love just wasn’t enough? “The thing is, you can’t control any of the moments, good or bad. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows are all kind of just a roll of the dice. That’s the crazy thing about being a parent. There’s good and bad, but you handle it all for them. You can’t do anything else. You give them everything and in return you get the whole damn world.”

“Sounds pretty nice,” Liam said after they’d all been quiet a moment, contemplating David’s deep response. Again David laughed and shook his head.

“’Pretty nice’ is an understatement,” he said, but then his smile started to falter. He must have remembered again that right now the whole happy balance of his life was threatened. There was just no telling what was about to happen, and though they were getting closer and closer there was still a chance that something could go wrong in the meantime.

A knowing silence settled between them all again, and the time still crawled though they never stopped rushing towards their rescue. Eventually they spoke of particulars, like what they might face if George were really there. They had as much of a plan as they could create without knowing what exactly they were getting into, but it turned out to not be needed. For finally they reached the campus and found Neal himself, waiting and ready to go home with all his things beside him and two adults ready for the handoff.

The next few moments were a flurry of emotion, and after he’d provided some identification and signed some forms, David rushed his son into the car. Knowing that he would want to sit with Neal, Liam moved to the front, and when the door opened Neal looked shocked at there being more people.

“Go on son, they’re all friends,” David assured him. “This is Killian and his brother Liam.”

“You’re Killian?” Neal asked, immediately sizing him up, taking on the expression of a person much older and more familiar with the world.

“Aye. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Neal, even if the situation is less than ideal.”

Killian extended his hand and Neal stared at it before looking back to Killian. “If you ever hurt my sister, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

Killian grinned at that, despite the honest threat. “I solemnly swear that I will never do anything to hurt Emma. I love her, and I’ll do anything to see her happy and cared for.”

After another moment, Neal accepted this and shook his hand before offering him a smile. Just like that the boy had warmed to him, and Killian couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but Neal was just what he should have assumed. He was exactly like Emma and their parents in that he was fiercely loyal, direct, and steadfast.

“Maybe don’t tell my Mom I said that. I mean I meant it, but she won’t like it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Killian promised before looking to David as Neal did the same. He too was smiling and then he shrugged.

“Nothing for me to tell really, seeing as if you ever had to make good on your promise, I’d be right there with you.”

“Well isn’t that a lovely welcome to the family,” Graham joked from the front.

“It’s all good. Killian gets it. If Emma chose him that means he’s already one of us.”

Killian loved the sound of that so much that he didn’t register at first when the phone rang. David answered it and seeing it was his wife he immediately told her that he had Neal and that he was safe. Things had gone by strangely easily, and though they were keeping an eye out still it seemed they were in the clear. But then Killian heard Mary Margaret’s voice as loud as if she’d been on speaker and he knew the same couldn’t be said back home.

“David, we’re in trouble!”

The fragments he heard thereafter were all snippets in a tapestry of fear. He heard little more than monster, woods, and danger. And then he heard the one piece that terrified him most.

“Emma and Ruby are out there!”

Oh God, no! ………………….

I just want him to come back. I want them all safe. I hate the waiting. I want to help!

Emma wasn’t sure if it was her own conscious thought or that of her wolf that was speaking to her like this, but she suspected that both parts of her being were very much in agreement. The human and the wolf did not like the way that things were going right now. It felt wrong to be separated from Killian in this time of uncertainty, and she’d stayed outside far longer than the others even when the car was out of sight and then out of town. She was rooted to the spot outside, the place where she’d said goodbye, and she couldn’t help but feel like this was all moving too quickly. It felt like they were missing something, but Emma simply couldn’t see it, and there was no option to wait. Neal was in trouble right now, and that was something that had to be figured out immediately.

“I wish I could make this go away for you, Emma,” Elsa said, her voice flowing over through the breeze that cut through the warm summer sun. Emma closed her eyes, wishing that Elsa could do that too, but wishing wouldn’t do them any good right now.

“I know you do, Elsa, just like I know that as much as I’m hurting, you’re hurting just the same.”

Elsa’s eyes misted over and she gave a jerky nod. Wordlessly she came over and took Emma’s hand in hers and the two of them stood there quietly. Emma let out a shaky breath and then lay her head against Elsa’s shoulder. Even though this was terrible it was nice not to go it alone. Yet again she had her best friend by her side, seeing her through when the going got rough.

“How do you think they do it?” Emma asked, and Elsa raised a questioning brow until Emma motioned back to the house where everyone else was diligently scouring some unknown books through the window. They were all hard at work, totally committed to trying to piece together that which they did not know, but Emma just couldn’t stomach it.

“I think they all are just as scared as you and me, but people are different. They’re looking for answers to help them feel useful,” Elsa said softly, though her eyes cast back to the road.

“But you don’t think they’ll find them,” Emma countered, her tone offering no question, only acceptance of Elsa’s state of mind.

“I think that the answers we all want aren’t out in the open. Whatever and whoever we’re dealing with, there’s been a lot of thought and effort put into this, and I don’t think they’ve left us many bread crumbs. This is one of those things we have to see to understand.”

Emma agreed with that instinctively. She knew that their best tools right now were Elsa or Ruby’s sight and not the stories of the past, and when everyone was together again that should be where all of their focus lay. But she felt compelled to ask the questions that no one had dared to say aloud yet that were plaguing her whole being with an aching sense of stress.

“What are the chances that my Uncle would surface at the same time that you’re having these nightmares about the red eyed shifters? And what does Gold have to do with all of it? How can they not be related, but at the same time how can they possibly be connected?”

“I think the chances of anything being coincidental in all of this are nil. Maybe one of them is taking advantage of the timing of the other? Striking at the weakest point, so to speak.”

“But the question is why? I mean obviously my Uncle is crazy, and my Dad’s leaving would have probably driven him to revenge of some kind. But what else was he getting at? Neal being sick – me making a choice – it’s convoluted in a way I just don’t understand.”

“Well, both have to do with your being hybrids,” Elsa offered and Emma realized she was right. “Neal’s sickness was brought about by his need to meld his souls and your choices this summer, first in mating with a shifter and then in embracing who you are…”

“But how would he possibly know that? I mean we barely know that.”

“Maybe, but -,”

Whatever words Elsa was planning to say died on her lips as Emma heard a low growl in the distance. She stopped Elsa, silencing her with a forceful gesture and sharpened her hearing. There was quiet to a point that she thought she’d imagined it, but then she heard it again, still low but slightly louder than the last time.

“We need to get inside,” Emma said immediately, pulling Elsa in and slamming the door behind them. The sound grabbed hold of everyone’s attention, and then Emma watched as both Ruby and Granny went on the same kind of alert.

“What is it, Emma?” Anna asked and Emma shook her head.

“It’s a shifter, but I don’t know what kind.”

“Tink?” her mother asked, though Emma could tell that panic was seeping through. There was no way in hell Tink would scare Emma like that. Emma didn’t even think her lynx was capable of making such a sound.

“No, but you should radio her now, Mom. We’ve got a situation and we are going to need her help.”

“I don’t understand,” her grandmother said, looking at Ruby, and though her eyes were glazed over like she was receiving a vision, she soon returned to herself angry and distressed.

“Damn it! I can’t see anything. We’re totally blind right now.”

“How many were there, Emma?” Granny asked.

“I didn’t stick around to listen and I only heard one for sure.”

“Tink! Tink this is Mary Margaret, do you read me?”

The radio crackled for a moment, but there was no response. Her mother started to try again and then a whispered yell came through.

“Shit, Mary Margaret, you almost got me caught! I forgot I had my radio on. I’m tracking a rogue shifter right now, but it just bypassed the clinic so it can’t be here for David. The scent picks up at the edge of town, but it’s moving towards your neck of the woods.”

“What kind is it?”

“Footprints are bear, but the smell’s all wrong. I don’t know what protocol is right now. Graham is gone and David’s with him – that’s two-thirds of the shifter dissuasion force out the window.”

“Tink, this is a bit different than a random rogue shifter…” Emma’s mother said and Emma signaled to her that she wanted to speak.

“Tink, it’s Emma. The bear smells funny because it’s sick. Really sick. We’ve got no real time to explain, just think what we thought Liam would be but worse.”

“Oh great. So extra strong, extra aggressive, and extra dangerous?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic. Well much as I like to talk myself up, I’m gonna need some back up out here.”

At that moment they all heard the still somewhat distant sound of a bear’s roar. It sent a shiver down her spine, but it also pushed her wolf. This was a challenge, and though Emma didn’t understand everything about being a shifter, she had a deeply seeded need to defend and protect this town and this family.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Granny asked, looking to Ruby. “We’ve got a fight on our hands. Let’s get moving.”

“It’s not enough. The three of you against one of these animals… the fight’s nowhere near fair,” Elsa said firmly and Emma nodded.

“So we stave off fighting as long as we can. It’s not the greatest odds, but four to one isn’t so terrible.”

“Four? Emma, you’re not serious -,” her mother said and Emma disregarded her Mom’s concern.

“Mom, how soon could Aunt Gwen and Uncle Lance be here?” Emma asked and her mother shook her head.

“I don’t know. They’re fast, but not that fast.”

“But they’d be here sooner than Dad and Killian right?” her mother nodded. “Well call them and tell them to get here now, and in the meantime we’ll try to hold it off. I think we should lure it near the cabin. It’s secluded out there, and if we send out an alert to tell everyone to get inside, it should keep everyone protected and still in the dark about the real threat we’re facing.”

“It’s a good plan,” Granny said, rolling up her sleeves and taking off her glasses in a signal she meant business. “You tell Tink to keep her link open. It ain’t going to be easy to heard this bear.”

Emma watched her grandmother take the walkie talkie to tell Tink that news as her mother grabbed her other device and called her Aunt. She didn’t have time to listen to their conversation though, as she needed to touch base with Anna and Elsa.

“We can help too, Emma,” Anna said determinedly. “Let us come, our magic -,”

“Is a little too unpredictable to be out running around with you guys,” Elsa filled in and Emma exhaled a sigh of relief. Of course Elsa, understood. “But we can do our part. If you get him to the cabin, we can try for a containment spell. I don’t know if it will work, my magic isn’t all it could be now that I’m tied to Liam, and it might be for nothing, but it can’t hurt right?”

“I don’t know, Elsa. It seems a little risky -,” Another roar went out, this time even closer and Emma changed her attitude. “On second thought, yeah we’ll do that. You guys keep clear of us though. Take the long way around and if at any point it looks dodgy you run, okay? Promise me.”

Her friends both nodded and that was good enough for Emma. She hugged them both and got ready to head out, but her mother grasped her hand, pulling her in one last time.

“Emma, please think about this,” her mother begged her. “I know you want to help, but you’re not ready for a fight like this. You’re still such a new shifter, and there’s so much more to protect right now. It’s not just you, it’s the baby too you have to think about.”

“I am, Mom,” Emma assured her. “But if we do nothing that bear is still going to come for us. I know Dad said he prepared the house, but I don’t think it will hold, and if it does that bear isn’t just going to go away. There are people in this town, people we love and care about, who can’t defend themselves because they don’t even know what we’re up against. We have to protect them and us, and we need every able person to fight, not just the seasoned or experienced. It’s the only way we can maybe get out of this mess.”

“I love you, Emma,” her mother said, pulling her in for a huge hug and making Emma wonder if she’d ever let her go. She caught her grandmother’s look of pride mixed with trepidation, and Ruth nodded at her in a silent show of support. Finally her mother let go and it was both too soon and not soon enough for Emma’s liking. “You be careful, but you also kick his ass, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Mom.”

Sneaking out the side door with Ruby and Granny, Emma was surprised at how easy it was to suppress her fear and instead access her inner animal. The mental link between the four of them was open even before she shifted, but it was more than that. Emma’s senses were alert and keen to all surrounding elements and her wolf was poised and ready for this fight. Any doubts of the human were controlled for by the steadfast belief of her animal.

You can do this, Emma. Just be smart and trust in yourself.

With a harnessed control and ease that made it seem like she’d been doing this forever, Emma phased into her wolf form, knowing her size was formidable even if it would be much smaller than this bear. The softness of the earth beneath her paws was something she drew power from. She smelled the air, noticing the hints of familiar Storybrooke wilds. The woods and the nearby sea were fresh and clear, but then the wind shifted and she sensed the incoming threat.

God that’s awful. How does he live with himself? Granny joked and Emma looked to her right, seeing Granny’s wolf form for the first time. Her black coat was peppered with grey, but she looked just as spry and able as the rest of them.

Who cares? Let’s just hope he’s alone, Ruby countered, her wolf pacing a bit and eyeing the tree line.

He is, Tink quipped. No other scents in town, and the perimeter alerts are triggered. If anyone comes or goes across the town line we’ll know.

It felt like maybe this was a moment when someone should say something. Perhaps there should be an inspiring speech or heartfelt words. But Emma knew they didn’t have the time or the energy to spare, so she just went with her gut.

All right everyone. Whatever you do, don’t get killed.

The others agreed and then all moved into hunting mode, closing the distance between the incoming bear and Emma’s family home. If they could, they wanted to completely eliminate the possibility of the bear finding her Mom and Grandma, or some unlucky and unsuspecting neighbors, and the only way to do that was through a direct confrontation.

How serious do we need to be about human detection? Ruby asked Tink. Emma was thinking the same thing since there were still a number of streets separating them with the bear. There were patches of forest, to be sure, but trying to pursue their aggressor while also avoiding roadways would be tough.

Everyone has gotten the emergency lockdown update. In our test shots this means roughly 95% coverage within five minutes. It tells them to stay away from windows until the lockdown is cleared, but we’ve still got driving civilians in play. That being said, we need to do this fast. If they see you, they see you, just keep the bear away from them.

With that go ahead, they all continued on, moving fast and thankfully seeing no one outside on their way. Soon the stench in the air was so pungent it made Emma want to gag, and that’s when she knew they’d found him. Only her imagination couldn’t do this animal justice.

Oh fuck me, he’s massive! There’s no way that’s all natural, grizzly or not, Ruby exclaimed.

Bigger means slower. Use his size to your advantage, Red, Granny chided her and Ruby nodded as Emma continued staring at the massive thing before them.

Big, brown, and angry were the three first words that came to mind. The kid in her was intrigued to be honest – she’d always heard of these giant bears as kings of the forests – but that level of awe was easily squashed by the adrenaline that such an unfair fight naturally brings. This bear really was the size of four other shifters, and that look in its eyes told Emma that this fight would go just as the one Killian waged before: the bear would not surrender so they had to totally defeat him.

The idea of killing even such a manic being made Emma’s stomach sink like a stone, but she rallied as she watched Ruby leave the tree line. She moved with grace and purpose, though Emma could sense her trepidation through their mental link, and right at the moment she wanted him to, the bear snapped his gaze to meet Ruby head on. It gnashed its teeth and stood on two legs in a primal warning, stomping its front paws back on the ground hard and shaking the earth beneath all of them, but surprisingly it didn’t immediately attack. It continued to sniff the air and then moved towards Emma’s family home once more.

Seriously?! Ruby asked, her mental tone annoyed, like it was insulting to her that this massive monster didn’t want to drop everything to destroy her.

Let me try, Tink offered, probably betting on the fact that lynx shifters were rare enough to deserve more interest from this hulking figure. She pounced into the same area as Ruby, but the bear didn’t even engage beyond a brusque snorting sound. This was a big problem. They all assumed they could lure the bear somewhere, but maybe that wouldn’t work. If so they’d have to fight him right here and that was absolutely not ideal.

Let’s try this a different way. Emma, present yourself, but get ready, you might need to start running, Granny instructed.

Good thinking, Ruby said. He was heading for the Nolans. If he senses one maybe he’ll pursue.

If Emma were still in human form her hands would be shaking, her brow sweating, and her mouth suddenly dry. The sharp edge of anxiety spiked at her spine. She was chilled, but in a truly bizarre way, also excited. Her wolf flexed her paws, scratching at the earth, muscles tightening and loosening as a means of preparing to sprint. She loved the thought of running, and knew she could outpace the bear. Well, probably.

We’ll have your back, Emma. He won’t get close to you.

Taking one last steadying breath, Emma gave into the fact that this was happening. She stepped into the sunlight and without waiting for the wind to shift she howled. The bear immediately whipped its head in her direction and surged towards her. Jackpot! With only a split second to gather her bearings, Emma fled back into the trees, dodging low hanging branches and old tree stumps as she flew through the forest. The movement was amazing, and pushing herself to the limits of all she could do was exhilarating. She forgot herself for a moment, soaking in the newness of all of this, but then she gathered her thoughts and started to think strategically. She knew these woods better than anyone, except for maybe Tink, and she could use it all to her advantage against this bear. She began to, winding through too narrow paths for the animal, and she heard the brute force of the bear smashing through wood and bramble. She didn’t dare to look back, and relied on her friends for intel on whether this was working.

Damn this thing is on steroids. He’s taking hit after hit and still going strong, Ruby said in anguish.

Got any bigger hits hidden somewhere? Granny asked and Emma knew she did.

The ravine, Emma pushed, knowing Tink would be aware of it.

That’s dangerous terrain, Emma. You sure you can handle it?

Hell yes, Emma pushed back, bolting in a new direction while she told Ruby and Granny to head towards the cabin. Splitting up was dangerous, but she was about to have a new ally on her side – gravity.

Knowing that any lessening of speed would put her at risk, Emma continued to run at a full sprint, but Tink was right. The edge of this ravine was all about timing and footing. As a kid she’d climbed it a few times, slipping in the mud and gravel every time, but she actually knew a path that one could run down if they got it just right. One step off the path and it was goodbye even footing, and since this bear was giant, there was no way he could stay the path.

When she reached the edge of the precipice she turned around to see where the bear was, and as expected she had about ten seconds before be got to her and… she shivered to think what he’d do, but she waited, knowing she had to have surprise on her side to get this right. There was still some tree coverage here, but if he got close enough and wasn’t focused tight on her he’d likely stop. She waited with each second banging like a gong in her ears in the same frenzied pattern of her beating heart. When it was nearly there, the bear roared in assumed victory, and then Emma dove off the edge without hesitation or fear. She was airborne for a moment, but she came to land on a firm patch of ground still twenty-five feet above the water line. The bear, meanwhile, had dived after her but hadn’t had the same length of jump and it did exactly what she wanted – crashed into a shoddy section before tumbling headfirst down the long stony gorge.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sounds of the bear’s huge body hitting each point on the hillside at full force filled the world around them. Gone was the quiet symphony of the natural world, until the bear finally splashed down into the river bed. This portion of the river, however, was deceptively shallow and while the splash of water covered the sound, Emma knew it would be one of the hardest hits the bear had taken. She wondered if he’d even get back up. No one she knew would be able to, shifter or not, and it seemed this bear was no different. It was still in the water, its huge limbs tossed in terrible directions that signaled broken bones.

You think he’s, you know, dead? Tink asked and Emma didn’t respond. She kept her eyes trained on the bear, and then he moved, slowly at first but with increasing mobility. It shook itself off, disregarding the blood that ran in the water from its injuries. Then it looked back up at Emma and let out a deafening howl. Emma didn’t know bears could even make a sound like that, but she’d clearly enraged this beast to levels outside of any norm. The bear jumped to the sides of the ravine, slipping back but gaining some purchase, and Emma saw in the deep depths of those sickening red eyes an undiluted determination.

Shit! Tink yelled. But it did work. He’s hurt for sure.

Hurt, but even more unstable. What do they say about wounded animals?

Nothing quite as deadly, Tink replied. All right let’s go. We’ve got some time and he’s got your scent. He’ll follow, and we might as well use what little advantage we’ve got.

Emma agreed, moving to the top of the ravine, but her foot slipped and she yelped. Fear immediately overwhelmed her and she was certain she was going down when the ground stabilized again. Oh thank God! That was too close. Way, way too close.

Once she was back in the woods again, Tink was waiting and though Emma wasn’t totally fluent in animal expressions yet, she could tell the deputy was impressed. If we survive all this, remind me to tell you how awesome that was.

Emma’s wolf let out a happy wine, her animal equivalent of a laugh, it seemed, and she agreed to let Tink do just that. Then they ran through the rest of the woods, with Emma taking care to leave her scent against multiple trees so as to leave a healthy trail for the bear. They were far enough away from her parents’ house that it should be fine either way, but she hated to take chances when it came to the people she loved.

Speaking of, the closer she got to her and Killian’s home, the more apparent it became that Elsa and Anna were already here. Their scent was strong here and when she arrived at the cabin both her friends were waiting on the steps with Granny and Ruby guarding them. How they got here so soon she didn’t even want to know.

“We broke a lot of speed limits, if that’s what you’re wondering, which you probably are because you and Elsa both drive like old ladies who never met a speed too slow” Anna offered and Emma yipped back in response. She wanted to shift into human form, but she knew phasing might take some energy and she needed to save everything she had.

They find a barrier spell? Emma asked Ruby.

Yes, and you’ll love this part, it involves their family crystals, which means a hell of a lot less magic needed from Elsa and Anna directly.

Good, Emma said, moving towards Elsa and allowing her friend to pet her head affectionately.

“I know I’ve already seen your wolf, Ems, but honestly it’s still so cool. You’re huge and strong and beautiful. Your coat’s the most amazing shade. White and gold rolled into one. It shouldn’t work, but it’s just… well it’s better than any of the words I know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’m telling Liam you think Emma’s wolf is more beautiful than his,” Anna teased and Elsa rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a competition,” Elsa said.

And if it were Emma would win by a landslide, Ruby joked so only Emma could hear. This made Emma want to laugh again, but then the sounds of the bear barreling through the woods could be heard once more. She barked to Elsa and Anna, an instruction to get inside.

“We know, we know. Lock the door. You all stay safe, and get him inside the circle,” Elsa said, nodding towards the area in the grass surrounded by light blue crystals. “Once he steps inside he’ll be trapped. There’s no telling how long, but it should at least be long enough for the guys to get back.”

Just thinking of that made Emma’s heart hurt. She needed Killian right now, but before that, she had a job to do. If they could contain this bear it might not even come to a fight. They could find another way and keep everyone safe. Of course there were quite possibly an army of these things coming. Honestly there was no way to know, but Emma shook away the thought, knowing that she had to focus on the here and now if she was going to get through this.

As if she’d summoned him just from thinking of the impending fight, the bear appeared again before them, this time even more angry than he was at first seeing her. The rage and aggression was tangible, clinging to the air, projected in a way that weighed heavily on them all. That feeling alone would be enough to paralyze anyone, but having all of that aimed at her made Emma keenly aware that she was in the most danger. As his primary target, she was the one who would draw so much of the fire, or so she thought. But just as they’d promised, Tink, Ruby and Granny all had her back, never letting the bear get truly close to her at least to start.

The chaos of the fighting was hard for Emma to track. It was constant and demanding, and she couldn’t take a step away or even really breathe. The four of them synched up in an instinctual assault, going after the bear where they thought it was weak. Ruby would take a shot for the ankles, Tink the knees, and so on and so forth, but so few of those shots hit, and the bear was nothing if not relentless. All of them were taking hits, swipes of its paw, the check of its body. It was terrible and scary, and there was no escaping it. Emma was running and dodging, defending and defying, and all the wile trying to lure the bear towards the crystals, but it was so much harder than one would think. For their own safety, none of them could enter the spell-cast circle, and it was difficult to get the bear at the right angle towards this particular patch.

This isn’t working! Tink pushed out, her lynx standing strong, though Emma knew the smaller cat had taken more than its fair share of hits. We need back up.

In case you missed the memo, we don’t have back up, Granny replied, her wolf flying out and taking a good chunk out of the bears shoulder. The bear snarled angrily then stood up only to fall back down, whipping Granny’s wolf away and hurtling her towards a tree.

Granny! Ruby cried out through their link, but she was immediately greeted by the older wolf stumbling up again.

I’m all right, I’m okay. Stay focused!

The three of them did as she instructed, but Emma felt the gap in their defenses. They were out numbered before in terms of brute strength, but now that was even more apparent. Then she heard the sound of running in the woods, another big animal. No scratch that, at least two.

Oh God please be help, please be help, Tink said and when Emma heard the voice in her head and recognized it she nearly cried, wolf form or not.

Emma! Oh thank god you’re all still here. We got here as soon as we could, her Aunt Gwen said, bounding to Emma’s side, a glorious and stealthy mountain lion. At the same moment another big cat, who was twice the size and had to be her uncle put himself between them and the bear, circling and hissing a final warning.

You know I love you, Aunt Gwen, but I think it’s safe to say I’ve never been so happy to see you, Emma said.

Hey what am I, chopped liver? Uncle Lance joked, but the bear took that moment to swipe at him, charging full speed and almost getting a piece of the big cat’s side.

You could be if you don’t pay attention! Granny snapped. Now all of you, focus! Go for the back legs. You take that out, you take out half his strength or more. And when he’s down, if you get a shot, you don’t hesitate. Forget the circle. Take him out.

The words sent a shiver down Emma’s spine, but she didn’t get a chance to linger with that as she watched her Uncle and the bear continue to fight. It was blow and blow, hit after hit, and she could see he was growing fatigued. They all did their best to help, but her Aunt Gwen was adamant. Emma had to stay back. Don’t get too close – don’t give him the chance. Unfortunately a moment came when she couldn’t stand back anymore, and she watched in horror as her Aunt unknowingly went towards the circle herself.

No, don’t! She yelled, but there was no time. She had to act, and she did so by rushing her aunt and pushing her out of the way. Only one problem, now the bear was close and there was no one there to stop him.

Emma! a voice sounded out in her head and her heart leapt.

Killian! She replied.

I’m coming, Emma, hold on!

She wanted to, god did she want to, but there was just no guarantee. The bear swiped at her and she barely dodged it, then it moved to bite her and she got out of the way at the last second, but the evasive move caused her to catch her leg on a upright root, she stumbled and the bear took advantage, slamming into her so her wolf was pinned under him, her eyes staring into the eyes of the monster that had only one hope – to kill her and the people she loved.

The thought that those sickening red eyes would be the last thing she ever saw destroyed her, but she was trapped. She was seconds from death and certain of it, but then she noticed the red of the bears eyes sharpen and glow and at the same time the collar around its neck did the same. She hadn’t even really noticed it before, but it was magical, at least it seemed that way. Suddenly it dawned on her that the collar could be a key to this. She wanted to bite it off, but there was no clear shot. The bear was now being attacked by the others, all trying to save her, but it held firm, creating a granite-like barrier between her and freedom.

You know what to do Emma, her wolf counseled her, breaking through the sound of all the fighting around her. And the truth was that she did. It was insane and a huge risk, but she had an idea and she had to at least try.

Emma! Killian cried out again, and she knew now that he was here. That he could see her. She did everything she could not to cry, and though she had faith this might work she still had to tell him one last time just in case.

I love you, Killian. Forever and always.

No, Emma, don’t!

…………

I love you, Killian, Forever and always.

No Emma, don’t!

But it was too late, and Killian watched in agony as across the clearing Emma shifted from wolf to human. He was hysterical in the sight of it. She must be injured – she’d just surrendered and made herself so vulnerable – and that beast was going to kill her with an opening like that. He sprinted full force at the bear, but he had no hope of making it in time and then he skidded to a stop as he watched the bear stumble back on its back legs. Emma remained alive and well on the ground, and Killian noticed that she held something in her grasp. He didn’t look too hard though, immediately resuming his charge, with only one goal: kill the bear that had nearly killed his love.

“Killian, wait,” Emma said, her voice really only a whisper but snagging his attention immediately. He heeded her words, but not until his wolf had pulled her out of the way of the still disoriented bear. The big beast shook its head and let out a harsh discharge of air, something Killian read as threatening, but when it looked back at them, Killian saw a flash of natural color in the bears irises.

What’s happening? Killian asked mentally, knowing that as his mate could still absolutely hear him.

“I don’t know, but this was making him worse,” she said, tossing the collar to the ground where it throbbed with a mist of the same color as the bear’s angry eyes. Killian could smell the stench of magic on the object and his wolf rejected it, snuffing out in disgust.

“Emma?!” Anna’s voice said as she flung the door open and ran outside, but seeing that the bear was still outside and not actually in containment she froze. “Uh oh.”

“Anna get back inside!” Emma yelled, but it was drowned out by the loud roar of the bear, and then the beast was in motion bounding towards Anna. Killian felt trapped at the sight of Emma’s friend being attacked, but neither he nor Emma had the angle to help her. All she had was her own magic to rely on, but from the look of shock on her face it was clear that hadn’t yet occurred to Anna. Surprisingly though, the bear jolted back violently, breaking the offensive.

Who hit him? Killian asked, but everyone said it wasn’t them. He looked to Anna again, but her hands weren’t raised, and she was just as surprised as the others.

Mine! An unfamiliar voice sounded out, almost hurting Killian’s head with the ferocity of it.

“Is that the bear?” Emma asked, shocked. “Is he talking about Anna?!”

Killian didn’t even know how to respond, and Anna, who usually always had some words to spare stood there speechless, her gaze totally focused on the bear though without any real fear etched in her features. It seemed that the bear and Emma’s friend had somehow managed to connect, but how was that possible? Sick as it was this bear should not have the ability to realize that, but then something arguably even more miraculous happened – the bear looked to the circle of stones Killian had gathered were a trap and it willingly moved inside, successfully encasing itself in a magical shield away from them all.

“Holy shit! What the hell was that?!” Ruby yelled as she shifted back to human form, Graham holding onto her as he did the same.

“Emma what did you do to him?” Tink asked.

“Nothing. I just took that off,” Emma said pointing at the collar that Anna was moving towards with purpose. Emma looked liable to follow her, but Killian kept her firmly in place, his hands unwilling to stray from her hips. He’d come too close to losing her, and there was no way she was leaving his grasp for a very long time.

“I wouldn’t touch it, Anna. It’s cursed. Gold’s handiwork for sure.”

“Emma touched it,” Anna countered.

“Yeah and Emma’s family likely has immunity from his curses. Do you have that?” Ruby rebutted, her annoyance flaring up at Anna’s continued stubbornness. Anna looked liable to throw back a smart reply, but then the door to their house slammed open and out came Elsa, madder than a bee trapped in a bonnet.

“Anna, what the heck were you thinking?! I told you not to leave! I told you it wasn’t safe! You could have been killed – you could have -,”

“He never would kill me,” Anna said defiantly and Killian was shocked the outburst between the sisters. He had never seen Elsa angry before, and Anna was contradicting her sister with such fire when she was obviously correct. That bear couldn’t be trusted, and though he suspected what Anna was about to reveal, it didn’t really mean anything, not while the bear’s eyes still glowed an unholy red. “He’s my mate.”

“Your mate?!” Elsa screamed, her brain wrapping around the words later than her mouth screeched them out. When she internalized the actual facts, she looked shell-shocked, but quickly moved back to anger. “Well that’s no excuse! He’s clearly sick right now, Anna, and very far from stable. The only reason he’s even close is because Emma here went rogue and almost got herself killed!”

Elsa whipped her gaze back to Emma, and it was so disapproving and incised that Killian wagered a physical blow would have hurt his love less. He stiffened at the action, but in reality he didn’t think Elsa was far off. Emma had gone with instinct, and it had paid off, but she’d put herself at risk. The only reason he wasn’t losing it was because he’d seen enough of the exchange to know that Emma had been had. She would have died as a wolf if she hadn’t used her cunning to get out of that mess. Still, he didn’t like that she’d been in such a scrape at all.

“You going to defend my honor here, mate?” Emma whispered and despite the continued frenzy of the moment, Killian grinned. He shook his head at his other half and she swallowed harshly before looking back at Elsa to face the music. “I know it was reckless Elsa but -,”

“You can say that again! Jesus, Emma! I thought you were dying! I thought I’d never see you again and then I thought Anna was going to join you. I thought…”

Elsa’s emotions bubbled over and tears appeared at her eyes, streaming down her face. Instinctively Anna and Emma moved to hug her, and Killian hated to let Emma go, but he knew they all needed this. The three of them were family too, and they’d all had love for each other their whole lives long.

“Is it killing you as much as it is me?” Liam asked, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere at Killian’s side.

His brother didn’t have to clarify. Killian knew he meant being apart from Emma, and it did hurt. It was physically painful after the last hour he’d had of terror. He nodded to Liam, agreeing that he didn’t like the separation even if he could see she was safe and sound. But the remedy to that discomfort was the relief he saw on his love’s face. She embraced her friends warmly, and then after some softly spoken words and promises not to do anything like that again, Emma turned back to him and practically ran into his arms again.

“I’m so sorry, Killian. I know I scared you too. I scared myself. I just had to try.”

“I know, Emma. I hate it, but I know you had no choice, and in the end it’s worked. You’re safe, as are we all.”

“Yeah for now, but who knows what might still be coming,” Emma said, laughing out a sound of defeat that hurt him down to his very core. He wished to take that burden from her, but he didn’t have the means to do so. Still, he knew had to try.

“You all good here for now?” Killian asked the others, looking to Liam and Graham, who he knew had been just as determined to get back here and protect the women they loved.

“We’re set for the moment. No other shifters that Tink can sense, but the Nolans are headed this way. They should all be here soon.”

“We’ll be back,” Killian said, now turning his attention to Elsa. Emma’s friend shared a smile that spoke to her understanding. She knew that Killian wanted to grant Emma just a small bit of reprieve. She needed time, even if it was just a fleeting glimpse, to come to terms with all of this.

“Where are we going?” Emma asked as they walked hand in hand through the back woods moving further and further away from the sound of all the action they’d just left.

“Does it really matter?” Killian countered and Emma looked curiously at him before breaking into a small smile and shaking her head.

“No, not really. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” she admitted, her thumb running over his hand where they were still connected. “I was so worried. For a moment there I thought it was really over, that I may have lost all the beauty that we’ve found.”

“I’ve never been so scared, Emma, and I pray to God I never feel that way again, but my heart still knew what my head could not – we are meant for forever, love. This love between us is timeless and infinite. Love like this wouldn’t find us just to fall away. We have a purpose and a path, and I know in my very soul it’ll be a long, if not always leisurely one.”

Emma sighed happily at his pronouncement, leaning further into him as they came upon a lush, green meadow filled with wild grass and wild flowers that he’d never seen before. They must have just popped up in the past few days, a fitting symbol of hope, though their world seemed anything but hopeful. Carefully he plucked one up, a vibrant, golden buttercup, offering it to his mate, and he took real satisfaction in the softening of her features and the warm sense of love that glowed in her jade eyes.

“What would you say to a little bit of pretending?” He asked, pulling her towards him so her body came flush against him. “For the next five minutes the rest of the world can fade away. It’s just you and me.”

“Just an ordinary boy and an ordinary girl?” Emma quipped, though her smile radiated a happiness at his proposed game.

“Oh no, love, the girl is anything but ordinary. She’s amazing, a marvel, a miracle.”

“And so is he,” she murmured, pressing her lips against his and teasing him with a kiss that both riled him and brought him tremendous relief. “And someday they have a great big house, 2.5 kids -,”

“I was thinking more like five,” Killian interjected and Emma’s eyes grew wide.

“Five?! Try three.”

“Let’s say four – for compromise’s sake.” Emma’s eyes remained narrowed, but her moving to a new subject signaled her acceptance.

“Fine, four kids and a beautiful house with a white picket fence and a porch swing out front. They have a dog and a cat, because the kids love both too much to choose, and they treasure every single moment, even the craziest ones.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Killian murmured, stealing another kiss and feeling the moment Emma swayed in his arms, her knees going weak from the pull between them. “And yet it’s all so familiar. Where have I heard that story before?”

“Hmmm, I guess there’s just no telling,” Emma teased, but her playing coy prompted him to growl and steal another kiss, demanding of her with a heated embrace what he wanted most to hear. “Okay, fine, it sounds like exactly what we’re going to have. Someday.”

“Aye, love, someday. Someday sooner than you think.”

So with that, the two of them soaked up the rest of those gloriously peaceful minutes before the storm came crashing down again. And though it was hard to keep going when the going got so rough, they had this perfect dream and their love for each other to always see them through.

Post-Note: I cannot even tell you how much I have put into these last two chapters. I have been completely neglecting my other life responsibilities, but I wanted to make sure I got you all to a better place before I take another hiatus. I know, I know – this is the story that will never end – but in order to do it justice, I really feel I have to take my time with it. That being said I appreciate all of your patience and continuing support. Every comment and reblog and all of that means the world to me, and I love to hear what you’re all thinking and where you believe the story might go next. So with that, I wish you all the best rest of your week, and I hope that you’ve enjoyed!

Tag list: @jennjenn615, @kmomof4, @teamhook, @winterbaby89, @ultraluckycatnd, @resident-of-storybrooke, @artistic-writer, @snowbellewells, @allofdafandoms-blog

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Eighty: Packing up his Gear ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hinata, Haruno Sakura, Hatake Kakashi, Nara Shikamaru, Sai ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

“...it’s been a while since you’ve been called on a mission.”

Back turned to his bedroom door, Sasuke pauses. Before him atop his bed lies a bag for supplies. He’s been packing up his gear all morning. “...this is a bit of a special case,” is the quiet reply.

“So I’ve heard. This is the second time a Hyūga heiress has been kidnapped in our lifetimes. And yet it’s been two different girls.”

Buckling the pack shut, Sasuke hitches it to his hip opposite his sword. “...are you going to say something useful before I leave, or just ramble on?”

Itachi perks a brow. “...I just want to be sure you realize the scale of this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not an idiot, Itachi.”

“...there’s more to this than a simple kidnapping. Whoever attacked Hinata last night is part of it, I’m sure. Hinata, I feel was the true target.”

“She’s no longer heiress.”

“On paper, no...but in birth? Yes. In bloodline...yes. That Toneri figure made as much clear, did he not?” Itachi’s expression hardens a hair. “...after the ending of the fourth war, the revelation of Kaguya and her ilk has left the leaders of the world uneasy. And now the moon is breaking, and falling to earth? Her previous prison? Something is going on, Sasuke. And we cannot forget that the Hyūga are her direct descendants.”

“As are we.”

“...which is what has me worried. But the Hyūga bear the Byakugan as she did. Something in my gut tells me this is somehow related. Be careful, Sasuke.”

“I already took Kaguya down once. I’m not afraid of much else.”

“...do you know who’s going with you?”

“Nara Shikamaru, Sai, and...Haruno Sakura.”

“...I see. Well, I won't keep you. Know that we will keep an eye on things while you are gone.”

With that, Sasuke gives a curt nod, leaving the Uchiha compound behind and heading toward the Hokage’s office. Hyūga kidnappings, the moon splintering...something is definitely amiss.

Subconsciously, he grips his regrown left arm, brow furrowing. Itachi is right...this reeks of the Ōtsutsuki. While he knows beyond a doubt that Kaguya is sealed away in another dimension entirely...he has to wonder if there are others. After all, she had to come from somewhere…

Not bothering to knock, he enters and finds only one member of his team yet present...along with an unexpected guest.

“...Hyūga?”

Both Hinata and Sakura turn to behold him, gazes unreadable. “...Sasuke-kun,” she greets softly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hinata’s been granted permission to come along,” Kakashi replies from behind the two ladies, leaning forward on his elbows with folded hands.

“...you’ve got to be kidding.”

“Think she’s not capable?”

“I know she’s a target,” Sasuke rebukes, a hint of a scowl in his features. “You’re sending her right into a trap if you let her come along. Why do you think Hanabi was taken? She’s bait. And you’re falling for it, hook line and sinker.”

“I won’t leave the rescue of my sister to anyone else,” Hinata rebukes, a touch of coldness in her tone that surprises him. “...I wasn’t home last night, I...I let this happen.”

“You’re one of an entire clan of Hyūga. Anyone else in that compound should have intervened. Especially given that Hanabi is heiress.”

Sakura folds her arms with a frown. “...are you saying the Hyūga let this happen?”

“I’m saying this entire situation is a mess, and as usual, Konoha isn’t thinking when it comes to solving it. Hinata is a damn capable kunoichi - just as much as you are, Sakura. But she’s also a huge risk to be bringing right up close and personal to the enemy that was trying to take her. I don’t want her to -”

Both kunoichi furrow their brows as he seems to stop himself. “...it’s still Hinata’s choice if this is a risk she wants to take or not. If you’re so worried about her, mister god-tier shinobi, do your job and protect her,” Sakura retorts, leaning forward a hair in challenge. “Why do you think you’re being brought along?”

“...tch.”

“...well, now that you’re done deciding your own mission details,” Kakashi then deadpans. “We’ll wait for the others, and then I’ll explain in greater depth.”

Huffing a curt breath, Sasuke just waits leaned against a wall, clearly agitated. Only once Shikamaru and Sai arrive does he adjust his posture...slightly.

It’s then Kakashi explains the moon’s status in more detail, giving Shikamaru the clock to count their hours left before the Earth is destroyed.

“You think this Toneri and the moon are connected?” the Nara asks, looking skeptical.

“Itachi thought the same,” Sasuke interjects. “Think about it. The moon was once the prison of the Shinju and Kaguya. The Hyūga are her direct descendents, wielders of the Byakugan...and he wants their born heiress. It can’t be a coincidence...or at least a possibility we can’t ignore.”

“Precisely,” Kakashi agrees. “Now...best you get going. Sai will take you to the location where he tailed the kidnappers to. Spread out from there, and look for clues. Remember...your time is limited.”

With that, the team heads out, hopping astride some of Sai’s ink avians and taking to the skies. Once they find the scene of the short battle, they divide and start searching.

Sasuke, assigned watch over Hinata, sits behind her on their bird as she flares her kekkei genkai. “...see anything?”

“Not yet.”

Still sensing a trace of hostility in her tone, he sighs. “...I wasn’t questioning your ability or your duty back there, you know.”

...no response.

“I meant what I said. You’re giving this Toneri bastard what he wants.”

“...then you’ll just have to do as Sakura-chan said, and keep an eye on me.”

“I shouldn’t have to, that’s my point! Believe me, I get wanting to protect a sibling. Look at what I’ve done for Itachi’s sake! But Hinata, this is -”

“There!”

Cut off, he heaves a heavy breath, guiding the bird down to land. Digging through the snow, Hinata reveals a kunai, decorated with a small figurine.

“...that hers?”

“Mhm.” Taking out her pack, Hinata moves to stash the blade inside.

“...still packing that scarf around?”

She stiffens.

“...we should find the others and let them know we’re on the right track.”

“...right.”

Following the projected path, their mount takes the lead as Hinata watches their surroundings for clues.

“Anything yet?” Shikamaru calls.

“There’s a spring in a cave below us...it seems to be...glowing?”

“A glowing spring…?”

Working their way down, the group stops at the water’s edge. Squinting, Hinata reports, “...I can’t see through it. There’s some kind of...interference.”

“Probably a way to keep intruders out,” Sasuke agrees. “...guess we have no choice but to go through.”

“Always rushing into things…” Sakura sighs.

“You have a better idea? That mark above us says this is a beginning...it has to be an entrance. Where else could they have gone?”

“For someone who was so insistent we be careful, you’re jumping to a lot of conclusions.”

“Enough! Sasuke-kun is right,” Hinata interjects.

“This isn’t normal water…” Sai then notes, lifting a hand. “It doesn’t actually feel wet.”

“Some kind of illusion, maybe...be careful,” Sasuke murmurs.

With a splash, they all leap in, swimming through the aqua waters until...emerging on another side. Plunging through open air, things suddenly...shift.

Shit...genjutsu…! Sharingan flaring, Sasuke cuts through the illusion. Around him, the others have slowed to a crawl...but Sakura soon stirs.

“...huh…?”

“It is genjutsu,” he reports. “Help me wake the others.”

As Sakura tends to Shikamaru and Sai, Sasuke grasps Hinata’s shoulders. “Oi, Hyūga...wake up. You…”

Around them, the strange spheres of chakra begin to...reflect. As his hand makes contact, they alight with visions of...the past? Watching, Sasuke sees various snippets of Hinata’s...memories.

They pass quickly, fragmented and blending. Years-old images of her father and sister, her cousin, her team...and then they become more recent. An apologetic Naruto, a consoling Sakura, and then...himself…? He looks so...vulnerable. They’d been talking about...

...he remembers that.

“Sasuke-kun…Sasuke-kun! Wake her up, already!”

Jolted, he retries his efforts. “...Hinata.”

Eyelids pinching, she slowly opens pearlescent eyes. “...Sasuke-kun…?”

“You were trapped in a genjutsu. It was sapping your chakra.” Taking her hand, he helps her sit up...and through his own, transfers a share of his energy.

“...what are you -?”

“You need to be at full strength in case the enemy finds you,” he retorts, but not unkindly. “I’ll recharge quicker.”

“You...you called me…?”

Giving her a glance, Sasuke then looks over his shoulder as Sakura calls them. “...come on. We need to move.” With a tug, he gets her upright, and then urges her to follow the rest of the group.

Still hazy with confusion and lingering memories...she does as prompted.

...what was that….?

.oOo.

Tired, headache, gonna be brief @~@ Crossover with The Last. Only a small part cuz...time limits, and I really dunno how the rest would go lol - and I'm sure this concept has been done already. Sorry but I'm really out of it, so...that's all for now. Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #uchiha itachi #hyūga hinata #haruno sakura #hatake kakashi #nara shikamaru #sai #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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wavesofinkdrops · 5 years

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Eternally, Yours.

Snippets inspired by @cuttoothed ’s piece, and as well thank you @aphchiptease for talks that spawned some of the ideas here and for letting me use them. No specific characters, more a description piece.

On AO3 now as well

Warnings: I mean. It’s the Entities. Literally everything you’d expect to be warned for

What is it like, to love an entity?

i. the vast

An endless, depthless love, reaching heights that you can’t fathom, depths that you don’t understand. You fall in love every day, every hour and every minute, always falling more, yet never reaching the ground. That love is boundless, limitless, and it is soon the only thing you know of. A desire that you can’t express, leaving you breathless, words slipping from your mind in gentle whispers that you can’t hear over the thrumming in your ears. It takes you for a ride, highs and lows, a rollercoaster that never ends − that you never want to end. And it goes on, a waltz with the emptiness, with the eternal.

ii. the lonely

It’s a strange feeling, loving alone. Loving something that may never feel real, that may never have been real. Every time you get too attached, it all disappears, and your arms are left empty, your heart hollowed by the presence you miss. It’s to love something that is not yours to keep, that grows colder the more you kiss, that becomes fainter the more you love, that thins into a wisp of fog when you try to cage it. It shimmers under your touch, ripples of silk that vanishes under your touch. You miss it when it’s not there, but the presence of it makes you feel more alone. You love the nothing, and that’s alright with you.

iii. the dark

It’s quiet, and there’s nothing in the darkness that surrounds you. And yet you feel the presence, something there, holding you in its empty embrace, its blackness blanketing you in a warm keep. You never want to leave, and you love how peaceful it is. It makes you feel safe, where most people are terrified, and you love what the Dark whispers into your ear at night. Promises of perfect paradise, an Eden, left empty forever, just for you and that which will bring you to oblivion. A kiss leaves a darkened trace, dripping from your cheek and smudging into your hand, and your smile goes unseen in the neverending darkness. There is nothing more you would ever ask for.

iv. the beholding

It knows every part of you, and you’re little more than an open book. You’re laid bare in front of its thousands of eyes, watching incessantly. Not that you ever see them, but every cell in your body can feel them, the scrutiny, the darkest parts of your mind ensnared by its witty tendrils. You love how it knows every inch of you before you even say a word, and your silence is all it needs to know your most burning desire and your deepest fear. Perhaps once it picks apart every part of you, and that you have nothing to give anymore, perhaps it may grow bored of you. But for now, you love the way it feels like everything it is, focuses on you. You are the centre of the world, and you love it.

v. the stranger

To love the Stranger is a love for the adventurous. The normal bores you, makes you feel like you’re dragging through the mud of the mundane. No, the love of the Stranger is ever changing and always shifting, becoming something new each day, each second. Waxen kisses that linger on your skin even when you no longer recognise the person in your arms, it is a love that takes each part of you and molds it into something entirely new. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to love that which is a constant metamorphosis. How long until you begin to miss all those you loved before, that you’ll never see again, and all those you’ll love in the future, but can’t keep?

vi. the spiral

Love-driven to madness, a theme you’ve read of in all those poems you’ve perused, in every book whose romance you’ve clutched to with tender hands, and you’ve never appreciated what a crazed state love truly is. And when you wander that endless feeling of confusion, of left and right turns where there should be none, you wonder whether this is the love they’ve all sung about. It sends a shiver down your back, and you spiral further down, further away from what others call sanity − but the freedom of insanity is what you seek. Its promises are unintelligible, but you know what they mean anyway. Twisted kisses are all you know from it, and when it holds you, you feel like curling inwards. You love the hold it has, and you let it take you.

vii. the web

It feels like you’re bound, tethered into the hold it has on you. Silver threads wrapping around you, keeping you close, safe, under its control, and you don’t mind. It doesn’t want you to go too far, wander off into the unsafe, and you’re happy to stay in its hold. You’ve gotten used to the cobwebs and the spiders, and you let them find comfort in your home. After all, what is yours is just as much theirs, and you wouldn’t think of depriving them from the safety you benefit from. You love how it protects you, whispers gentle requests and quiet promises all night to you, allows you to be held and never straying away. You let the filaments capture you, and you feel their hold tightening on you. You take it as a sign of the strength of your love, and you let it. You let it happen. You’re happy.

viii. the corruption

You can feel the love burrowing into your skin, navigating every part inside you, and it tells you it’s just for your sake − to make you a part of it. And soon enough, you learn to not pay attention to the squirming inside you. It’s only love. And you love it back, and you let it have your body as a feasting ground. You let others think you’re infected, contaminated, and you let them think that. They just don’t understand − none of them would ever really understand it, and you don’t particularly want to explain to them. You want to keep it all to yourself, and all of it is yours. You cherish every one of the bugs it gives you, grants you, blesses you with, and you let it spoil you with its love.

ix. the hunt

Love is exhaustion. It is the taste of stale salty spit in your mouth and the desperate panting of your lungs as it chases you further, even if it’s already found you all too long ago. You feel primal, when those talons dig into your skin, those claws capture you and grip you, before releasing you again. The Hunt begins again, never ending, and it’s the eternity of the chase that you love. Hard-to-get, is how some have described it, but it’s so much more than that − you’re the prize at the end of the race, and you race against time itself as you attempt an impossible escape. It always catches you, and you can only smile between gasps when it threatens to tear into you, before it lets go all over again.

x. the flesh

You want nothing more than to take each piece of yourself, and let it meld into the larger being of the Flesh. Let it grow, take more form, turn into even more beauty, but you can’t give up everything at the same time. You want to watch as your love feeds it, and it does − each day, you surrender a bit more, and each day, you love a bit more. The embrace is tender and warm, and the clicking noise of bones is soft to your ears. It doesn’t matter to you whether you lose a bone, a muscle, or a lung, you will give it everything it asks for. And your happiness grows with it. It’s never enough, and it won’t be, until you belong entirely to it.

xi. the slaughter

The blood slides on your tongue, your lips, and you let the acrid taste slip into your memory with tender adoration. You’ve gotten used to cold metal against your skin or the smell of gunpowder whenever it’s around, the leaden, heavy scent of it pervading the air. Bruises litter your skin, testament to the mindless violence it so cherishes, that you’ve learned to tolerate, and then love, a sign of what you’ve come to adore yourself. Loving the Slaughter is painful, red slits against your skin, ink-dark kisses and bone-breaking touches. You drink the devastation it gives you, a castaway in a sea of red water. You fall prey to its love and its hate, both different names for what really is the same thing in your love. And it takes your heart and your being, desecrates it into a tomb for empires, a cemetary of the thousands of fallen it never cared about.

xii. the desolation

You feel like Icarus, letting yourself so close to something that for sure will destroy you. You can feel the trembling heat, radiating from the barren terror of the burn you so long for, but don't let yourself have. You love a scorching desert, that can never return to you what you give it. You want to get closer, but every time the heat starts searing your skin, the dryness in your mouth, your throat, your body starts to clench your innards, your eyes burn with tears they can’t cry from the ecstasy you can’t achieve. You want more, you need more, but it’s the abandonment of cracked earth, burnt land. It’s begun seeping into your skin, into your bones, and you feel colder with each blistering touch. One day, you want to burn for love.

xiii. the buried

A chokehold touch, encompassing your entire self in what it is − you suffocate, but you know that it’s normal. It’s only what you’d expect. It’s not easy, always, to be subject to an asphyxiating love, feeling the rough earth sliding against skin as you gasp for breath. It’s the gravel you taste on your tongue, the sand in your lungs, the dust in your throat, smothering you in all it is, and you surrender to the feeling of dying in your lover’s arms. And yet you never do − it won’t let you die, and even as it gets harder to breathe, you feel all the more loved.

xiv. the end

To love the utter destruction at the end of everything, to feel the gripping fear of every soul on the planet, and yet feeling so small in the face of that shattering love, is what loving the End means. It feels like the voice of a thousand pains, of a million eternities and millennia of agony washing over you, drowning you in their endless fear, and you let it wrap you in its cold, cruel embrace. The god of all, that final fear, the End of everything, it wraps you in its arms and presses despair and ruination against your skin, with delicate lips as white as bone. Decay coats your skin, your eyes turn blind and your breath becomes shallow, and you give your life away in return for its undying love. A symbiosis, symphony for the dead. Perhaps someone might find the irony amusing, but you find your laughter captured by the eternal chill, your smile frozen, unmoving as a corpse. And maybe you are − maybe that’s what it made you into, that’s what became of you. It gave its love. You gave your life.

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powerovernothing · 5 years

Note

What would the other two bros do if one of them was really terrified of something?

Dear sweet lovely Anon, I do believe you have just said the magic words. After all, I consider hurt/comfort to be my all-time favorite sort of genre to write about in general, and when it comes to Korbin and his siblings, I rarely do anything angsty without including something near the end to make the pain and the tears all better… so really, what I’m trying to say here is that you really don’t have to twist my arm to get me to answer your adorable question~

In fact, I believe I shall go a step beyond just the regular and long-winded answer I normally do when you send me these wonderful messages and will actually give you a few snippets of my writing based around this very concept! So, in other words, my friend! Buckle up, prepare your feelings, and get ready to do some reading down below!

And, if I didn’t already say it at some point recently, thank you – and everyone else – so very much for the continued and wonderful support! It means more to me than you guys will ever know~!

(*~*Underneath is six different snippets of writing from my Oblivion Verse, some that have actually been unseen as of now on this blog, and all of which involve tons of emotions from all three of the boys. Lots of reading involved, proceed with caution!*~*)

If Korbin Was The One Afraid:

When it comes to Korbin and the subject of fear, the things that he is quite often afraid of is based around the aspects of mental terror. Whether it is because of intense nightmares of past mistakes, or the torment he endures at the hands of Sheogorath and what may happen if he goes against his abuser, those are the things he is afraid of most. So, if he was in the trying process of suffering through either of those outcomes – or both at the same time, imagine that – I believe his chosen siblings would react as follows:

Lucien:

(In the aftermath of Sheogorath’s latest ‘play sessions’ with his Little Raven, Lucien soothes Korbin’s mangled nerves)

“Mydear Silencer, look at me,” He calls to him softly, his voice reassuring andgentle. Yet, when his words are unable to breach through the darkening cloud surroundingKorbin’s mind, his tenderness fades and is replaced with as much firmness as hedares to allow himself to be in this moment. “No, Korbin, you will do exactly asI say, and will look at me when I tell you to.”

It takes a rather long while, butKorbin finally does as he is prompted, and when their eyes meet, Lucien noticeshis normally sparkling gaze is now terrified and filled with overwhelmedtears.

“My brother, you are allright,” He says matter-of-factly, and lowers Korbin’s trembling hands tohis lap, so he might hold them both tightly in his own as their fingers intertwinewith one another. “Simply breathe deeply, and know you are not in any formof danger. Do this as many times as you need, as many times as you believe are required, until you find, and at last grasp the truth behindthe words I speak.”

An extended silence falls over thecamp, and Korbin’s shoulders continue to shake violently; the tears in his eyesfalling from his eyes and down his cheeks even amid attempting to make sense ofhis brother’s instruction. Lucien remains where he is, hardly daring to moveeven an inch from his side, and only squeezes Korbin’s hands when he believes hisSilencer falls prey to whatever unspeakable horror he is attempting to fightwithin his own mind.

And when Korbin is carefully pulled from the depths andrealizes the touch he is feels is Lucien’s own, he grasps onto his brother’s handswith white knuckles, and holds on as though they were truly the only possible thingin time itself that could keep him afloat.

“Can you hear the sound of myvoice?” He asks after a moment.Korbinsays nothing in response to his brother’s questioning, and simply nods; hisbreathing rough and ragged, but calming slightly.Lucien then takes one of hishands away from Korbin’s tight grip and returns his palm back overthe side of his cheek.“Are you able to feel mytouch upon your face?” Another nod, and Lucien’s tonesoftens once again.“And you know for absolute certainthat it shall not harm you?” “…I do,” Korbin finally speaks, and he struggles to find his words.“I know… very well that you… that you would never hurt me, Lucien. Even when… evenwhen I’m like this…”“Yes, very good,”Lucien replies with a genuine smile. “And indeed, you are correct in whatyou say, my Silencer, for I would never think to harm you in any way.”And although he cherishes the soothing words his brother speaks to him, and howthe Madness is beginning to subside the longer he remains underneathLucien’s careful touch, the lingering fear of somehow falling back to sleep, only to find himself suffocated underneath never-ending chains, before being broken from an all too different, and oh-so sickening touch, only causes his shoulder to tense and whatever reassurance he thought to heave leave him almost instantly.“But even if you wouldnever hurt me… I know… I know someone who would,” He pulls away from Lucien’s touch, and wraps his arms around himself. “Someone who did. In my mind, before you came tome. You have no idea what it was like, brother, it was simply…”However, Lucien refuses to allowsuch a thing to happen, and reaches to pull Korbin back before he has a chanceto get too far.“It was simply a terribledream, and nothing more,” He explains in a gentle tone, placing one hand in hishair and the other around his shoulders as he holds him close. “It cannot physicallydo any damage to you.”Korbin shakes his head. “But,you don’t –”“—Silence now, and know Iam here,” He whispers, lowering Korbin’s head to his chest before he thinks to speak another wordand runs his fingers through his brother’s tousled locks of grey affectionately. “Whatsoever yousaw surely does not matter any longer, for you are safe within my embrace, and Ishall never let anything come to harm you, Korbin. Not now, and not even whilstyou sleep.”

Martin:

(Martin tends to Korbin after an ambush by the Mythic Dawn, and Korbin blames himself for needing help at all)“There is no shame indesiring protection, and comfort; or coming to my side and allowing me to healyour injuries, you know that I would never –”

“–You very nearly passed outbecause of me, Martin.” Korbin interjects softly, cutting him off as hefeels the tears pooling in his eyes. “You wasted too much energy, and Iwould have been the reason for you hurting yourself…”

Martin breathes out, andthen begins to stand to his full height; touching both of his hands to Korbin’scheeks affectionately, and carefully lowering his tone.

“And yet do you see merefusing, or turning you away, even if such words were true?”

Korbin shakes his head, attemptsto wiggle out of the touch he does not deserve, but his brother onlyholds him in place.

“No, it is not as thoughyou would slam the door in my face,” He tells him, his eyes nearlyoverflowing. “But it does not mean that you should help me,or that I deserve such…kindness.”

Martin places a hand againstKorbin’s neck, and slowly pulls him forward. Korbin does not fight him, he onlyreaches out and grabs a part of Martin’s robe to clutch onto. Grounding him andkeeping him afloat in this dark raging sea. Just another weakness, just another act born ofshame.

“And just why do youbelieve that?” Martin whispers, allowing his brother to hold on ashe runs a hand through his hair. “Why do you believe that you, mydearest little brother, is unworthy of my affection, or my love?”

Korbin buries his head intoMartin’s robe and chokes out a quiet sob. “…Because what if in thenext instance that this happens, you are with me?” The tears run freelydown his face. “What if you are injured somehow, or you expend too muchenergy, or my own actions cause you to leave me?”

Martin pulls back andgives him a curious stare as he tries to dry his tears with his thumbs. “What do you mean by–”

“–You know exactly what Imean by my words, Martin!” Korbin shouts, jerking back as tears runincessantly down his cheeks. “I cannot bear the thought of my mistakescausing you to die in my arms or turn away in shame and anger! And yet, with asmany missteps as I take, it surely means that is only a matter of time before Istumble down the mountain entirely, and you or Lachance fall along with me! Itonly makes sense! Perfect, terrible, awful sense!”

Martin feels his heart breakinganew, and yet he only moves forward to pull Korbin back against him. He husheshis frantic cries and tries to calm his shaking shoulders.

“…Korbin, neither I nor Lachance would ever think to leave your side,” Martin slowly rocks himin place, attempting to soothe him in action as well as words. “We loveyou far too dearly to ever think of doing anything of the sort.”

[…]

“What I am attempting tosay, however,” Martin slowly turns Korbin’s face back around, and lockseyes with him as his voice turns serious. “Is that even though you may beafraid, and that the path before you may be treacherous, and overwhelming tobehold… there is certainly no shame in how you feel, as you are not alone infeeling them. Nor are you alone whatsoever.”

Martin leans forward, and Korbinis surprised when he places a gentle kiss upon his brow. “And if you find that toohard to accept,” He whispers gently, the firmness in his voice gone as quickly as it had come. “Then simply allow me to fightoff whatever frightens you the most.”

If Martin Was The One Afraid:

Being the chosen heir of the Imperial throne in the midst of the great Oblivion Crisis, there is no limit to the things that Martin would end up being afraid of. From dealing with the constant onslaught of Daedra forces, to knowing he will have to bear the weight of the crown by the end of the Crisis, to even witnessing his brothers constantly putting themselves at risk for his own sake… there are many things that could make Martin frightened for one reason or another. Thus, if something like that occurred at any point, I believe his siblings would react as follows:

Lucien:

(Martin has sleeplessness from the Mysterium Xarxes, and Lucien tends to him)

“When was the last time that you slept?” He says,reaching out his hand and turning Martin’s face to the side with a singletouch. “And slept more than a few hours at a time?”

Martin touches the hand that is on his face and lowers itwith a small – rather nervous, sheepish – chuckle. “Would you possiblybe satisfied in any way, if I told you that I simply cannot remember?”

Lucien frowns in response, quite obviously not pleased in anyway regarding Martin’s words, and he exhales a soft sigh. “Ah, then it is justas I thought.”

Lucien pulls his hand away from Martin’s grasp, and thenslowly begins to shuffle backwards upon the large bed until his back is laidpropped against the headboard. When he stills, he crosses his arms overhis chest, and gestures towards Martin with his chin.

“Then I shall ask you again,” He says, and heshakes his head in knowing that Martin managed to have him repeat himself afterall. “Come here and allow me to rectify your terrible choices atonce.”

Martin pauses, genuinely surprised by what he was hearing,and what Lucien was doing – for him,and not their youngest, more troubled brother for once – and he just smilesfaintly.

“Are you suggesting that I come lay beside you?” Heslowly moves forward, but pauses half way, as though he was awaiting voicedapproval of such actions. “As you would with Korbin?”

Lucien holds out his hand; an invitation. “Do you have issuewith that?”

Martin shakes his head and takes the offered hand willingly. “No,not at all,” He tells him simply. Letting himself be pulled forward untilhe was directly beside Lucien against the pillows. “I was just… rathersurprised that you would choose to do this. For me, that is.”

Lucien wraps an arm around Martin’s back, and slowlyreadjusts the Emperor Priest until his head was laying upon his robedshoulders. He listens carefully to the words in which his brother speaks, and asmall amused chuckle escapes him before he realizes it.

When Martin looks up, due to the sudden sound, Lucien justsoftens and tightens his almost protective grip around him.

“You are my brother, are you not?”

Martin nods, nestling himself further within Lucien’s grip,and finding the embrace of The Assassin comforting despite everyknown reason that it shouldn’t.

“Indeed; or at the very least, I was the last Ichecked.” Martin smiles slightly playfully.

“And you have gone without sleep for many nights;possibly brought on due to a certain Daedra Artifact and its influence overyou?” Lucien turns his head, casting Martin back underneath his darkstare. But instead of the Septim Heir desiring nothing more than to wiggleaway, and escape from Lucien’s eyes, he notices a hint of concern lurkingbehind his elder brother’s eyes.

Martin merely nods and allows him to continue. To piece togetherthe puzzle pieces he had already gathered, and to admit the truth in which wasalready clearly known.

“…Or perhaps, it was not simply that damnable bookitself, but the nightmares seeking to torment you when you longed for asoundless rest?”

[…]

“Lucien?”

In response, almost as though he could sense where thisthought process was heading just from the whisper of his name alone, Lucienhushes Martin, and pulls his brother closer.

“…I am not going anywhere, Septim,” He reassures him,hoping it is enough even as he wraps his other arm around him just in case itproves otherwise. “Sleep and know that I am here. You are perfectly safe.”

Korbin:

(Martin is temporarily blinded by Akatosh’s great power, and Korbin tries to see the bright side of things)“Martin, what in all of Sithis himself were you thinking?!“Korbin shouts, kneeling in front of his brother and grasping onto his shoulderstightly as his concern and anger combine into an uncontrollable emotion seeking to overwhelm.“I told you I would have beenfine! You had no reason to give yourself over to that sort of magic, especially whenyou barely understand such power to begin with!” He shakes Martin slightly in emphasis to his heated words, and then his emotions shift from the intense mixture of worry and rage, to a much more selfish line of thought. “You could have hurt yourself back there! Burned yourself from the extent of the flames, did terrible things to your body, or you could haveeasily died by unknowingly expending too much energy! And just what would I have done then? What would I have done if youdied in the process of protecting me?!”Korbin pulls his hands away, and impatiently awaits a reply. But whenone does not come, and instead his brother simply continues to stare at him blankly, hardly reacting to his words, or even the sudden shaking, his expression twists in frustration.

“Are you merely going to let me ramble on without end? Without hardly saying asingle word in response?” He asks in an offended tone, and then touches his shoulder once againwith one hand, patting it lightly in an effort to gain his attention. “Did you evenhear a single word I said to you at all?”

Martin inhales a deep breath in the hopes of somehow composinghimself, but it does very little to soothe his nerves. His shoulders beginto shake as he desperately scrambles to reach for the hand he feels restingagainst his shoulder. His voice stammers, and his unfocused eyes fill to therim with terrified tears.

“…I can… I can hear you justfine, Korbin,” He tells him when he finds his brother’s hand at last. He turnshis head, and the tears slip down his cheeks as he clutches the hand pitifullyagainst his chest. “It is only because I cannot… see you… that I said nothing. Know that I… that I can hear you just as clearly as I would naturally… but your face… noteven your place in, where I assume, you are in front of me… I can no longer see it… Isimply cannot see anything…”

[…]

“All right, this doesn’t… this doesn’t mean it isn’t something we can learn to deal with, and come to terms with, yes?” Korbin mutters with a nervous chuckle, one hand resting against Martin’s face so that his brother might know he is still there outside of voice alone, and the other running through his hair almost frantically before he stands.

“We have faced all manner of things before now, and dear Sithis, we have even faced the very worst that Oblivion itself had to offer! So, a little thing like… like a sudden loss of sight doesn’t mean it takes away who you are! You are still very much my beloved brother, and I care for you even if you have bright and shining eyes much like my own, or dimmed and faded ones!”

Martin sits with his hands folded in his lap where Korbin had placed him beside what he assumes is the feeling of the heat of the fire lightly warming against his skin as it crackles and pops. He listens intently to his brother as he rambles on and finds it curious how his voice fades in the distance, and then rises in volume at least half a dozen times.

He can only surmise, from behind his still darkened eyes, that his brother is pacing about the grounds of their campsite.

“And if that is not enough to soothe you,” Korbin begins, halting his step and coming to stand in front of his brother with his hands outstretched to gesture. “Then we could always locate a healer of some kind! I mean, there must be some amount of magic, or magical being in this Void cursed world we inhabit that could make you better! I mean, whatever else is that damn magic good for if not for healing! Or, if you simply do not want to involve an alternate means of magic – considering it was Divine tampered magic that caused this to happen to begin with – then I simply stay beside you and help whenever you needed to see.”

Korbin kneels in front of Martin and reaches to take his brother’s hands in his own, and Martin tilts his his head and blinks in surprise.

“After all, considering that my honored title is the Knight of the Emperor, I see very little reason why I cannot be considered the Eyes of the Emperor just the same,” Korbin tells him with a genuine smile. “I can assist whenever you need to pass judgement, or when you need to write out papers, or even when you need to go from one room to the next. Whatever is needed my dear brother, you have me. As long as it helps… and as long as you know, without a doubt, that I am with you in this darkness….”

If Lucien Was The One Afraid:

Now, this is where things become quite tricky, and just a touch complicated in the long run. Mostly because, as the eldest sibling out of the three, there are very seldom moments where Lucien allows himself to be seen as weak in front of both Korbin and Martin. As he deems himself to be their protector, and the one who keeps them safe whenever something dangerous or frightening arises.However, this is also where it backfires on him, as while he is indeed the eldest, that just means he has so much more to lose. Worrying over their safety, and fearing the moment he would be too late, sometimes it just overwhelms him in uncontrollable ways. And while there aren’t exactly many moments where he is the one receiving comfort from his younger brothers, you have just managed to inspire me to create more, my dear Anon!

But here’s hoping these will sate you until that time comes~

Korbin:

(Lucien is haunted from nightmares of his previous Silencer, and his brother’s death, and Korbin calms him unintentionally)

“What good is your trustand love, dear Speaker,” Lara whispers; her fingernails digging into hisforearm and drawing blood, as her lips twitch with a demented smile. “Whenyou knew in your cold and selfish heart that you would never be able to carefor them as much as they cared for you?”

Lucien’s eyes dart quickly fromboth Lara’s bloodied and torn face, to where Korbin stands far too still as heslices his throat with The Assassin’s own dagger, and he feels himselfdrowning. Being pulled under the weight of his own choices, his own mistakes,his own foolish heart that should have never tried to love whatsoever, and allhe wishes to do is scream until his throat is raw.

“Whatever you thought were yours to hold, shall againbe taken!” Lara squeals happily; pulling Lucien into her embrace, as hervoice shifts from playfulness, to quiet anger. Lucien feels a cold sweat formover his forehead as he listens to her words. “And yet, why do you look sosurprised, dear Lachance? Have you not realized by now that your love is simplya death curse written in the bloodstains of those you foolishly sought to carefor?”

Lara finally lets him go, andLucien falls to his knees in tearful heap. Watching helplessly as Korbin chokeson his blood, and falls backwards away from the cliff side, and down into thedepths of the abyss below. As he does, and Lucien’s hand remains outstretchedtowards a brother he knows he can no longer save, he finds his voice at last.

“Dear sweet Dread Father make itall stop!”

[…]

“By Sithis, I surely cannot explainit,” He mutters to himself; his tone quiet, far softer than the mosttender whisper. “…But the mere thought of losing you in any way; why, itis enough to bring me to my knees in sheer grief alone.”

As his hand moves away fromKorbin’s head, a small grumble – caught between another snore and a groan –reaches his ears, and his brother begins to stir from where he lay.

“…Lucien?” He says ashe attempts to raise his head; his eyes still closed as he speaks. “W-Whatdid… what did you say?”

Lucien chuckles warmly despite it all and leansdown on one knee. “Nothing, my Silencer,” He whispers; pulling the blankets back up around Korbin’sshoulders. “Or at the very least, nothing of grand importance.”

Korbin lowers his head back ontohis pillow when he feels the warmth of the blanket envelop him, and he smilessleepily.

“Are you certain?” Comespart of his question, and his head rolls several times to the side and backuntil he is able to find enough willpower to finish what he was saying. “Afterall, if there is… something you need from me, I could try… and assist?”

‘All I need from you, my brother, is for you to simply stayalive.’

It goes unspoken, unsaid, and asLucien muses silently over the thoughts in his own mind, he slowly brushes theback of his hand against Korbin’s cheek in a candid moment of affection.

“Yes, I am quitecertain,” He answers simply; his gentle actions betraying his otherwiseunemotional tone of voice. “Go back to sleep now, and we shall speak againcome morning.”

Korbin nods in response to hisbrother’s commands, incredibly eager to follow them to the letter withouthardly a word in complaint for once. Lucien continues to watch Korbin for amoment, and when he believes him to be back within the realm of sleep, hefinally stands; moving away from the beds before heading back towards thecracked door of their shared chambers.

But before he reaches connectinghallways, he hears a familiar voice sound from the shadows once again.

“Goodnight, brother,”Comes Korbin’s fading tone from behind; already consumed by his tiredness whenthe words leave him, and yet still desiring to have the final word even still.

Lucien merely smiles sadly whenhe hears his Silencer’s incredibly innocent – and yet far too ironic – wellwishes, and he slowly shakes his head as he whispers his faint reply under hisbreath.

“Sleep well, my dearKorbin.”

Martin:

(Lucien breaks down whilst on the search for Mehrunes Razor to save Korbin from Sheogorath, and Martin soothes him)

Lucien buries the sharp edge of his blade into the bark of the tree and forces down the scream rising in his throat. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Martin’s hands trembling in front of him, uncertain as to what he could possibly do to make this moment better. And all Lucien can do is laugh bitterly at the sight.

“…How is it that no one, in the entirety of this unjust and vile land, has come to realize that we, as his chosen eldest siblings, only want him to be safe?! To at last be set free from his seemingly unending torment and have some manner of the peace so wrongfully denied him!” He slams his fist against the harsh bark and cares very little for the blood running down his hand in response to his actions. His eyes are downcast, and he stares at the pebbles at his feet as the memory that drove him to such a state repeats without end in his mind, and he becomes more emotional.

“Is the sight of him lying in broken tears not already enough to feel utterly helpless? Knowing there is very little we can do at this point to soothe him? Is the sound of his near constant begging for the sweet release of death far too much of a grand request in the eyes of for any possible Divine or Dread Father to somehow grant their mercy?”

Another laugh escapes him, and he slowly pulls his hand back to wipe the blood upon the surface of his armor before turning around around and locking eyes with Martin as angry tears slip down his cheeks. When he began weeping, he surely does not know, but he makes no effort to stop them from falling, even when he sees Martin’s own eyes go wide in shock.

“Of all things… of all things that would prompt them to shun us both away they are needed the most… why must it be this? Why must it be him?” He asks miserably, forcing himself not to step back as his brother begins to move forward. He simply remains fixed in place, all his energy spent on giving life to the words, and the emotion, he had kept within him for too long.

“Tell me, oh wise Emperor… For all your knowledge, all your reassurances, and all the Void-Damned hope you continue to carry alongside that ever-damnable Light, merely answer me this…” Lucien feels his legs beginning to tremble alongside his hands, and he hates every part of the weakness he is allowing himself to give into. But it was too late now, and if he did, indeed somehow fall, then perhaps Martin would catch him. Perhaps then, the two of them could make sense of this all, instead of choosing to shoulder it solely on their own.

Perhaps that is what Korbin needed.

“If you are so content to stand silent and bear witness to me in such a state, lost and near breaking just the very same as you, then surely you must have the answer which eludes me,” Lucien shuts his eyes before he continues, allowing himself to shed broken tears. His anger now having faded away, and simply replaced with genuine pain. He takes a breath, and speaks from behind closed lids. “Why is the one thing I know we both truly desire above all else, for our brother to be alive and to simply feel joy once again, why must it seem so utterly imposs–”

His words are cut off before he has a chance to complete his sentence, for he suddenly feels arms wrapping around his shoulders, and his breathing catches in his throat. Rising his head, he opens his eyes, and sees the faint shape of Martin resting against his shoulder. His hands begin trembling more fervently as they linger just above his brother’s back.

“It is not impossible, and we shall fight back againstevery thought saying otherwise, until we are able to finally save him,” Martin whispers softly, pulling the Assassin close, and tightening the grip he has around him. “He will live through this, Lucien, for we will not let him go so easily. You simply have to keep trusting thatthere will come a day where this will at last be over…and he will be his smiling self once again.”

Lucien says nothing, only nods and slowly wraps shaking arms around Martin’s shoulders. The Emperor Priest rubs a hand over his brother’s back in comfort, as he tries to calm Lucien’s raging emotions with whatever gentle words he believes that he needs to hear the most.

“And if such a thing proves too difficult at first, or you are unable to continue to uphold your self-imposed image of unshakable strength for whatever reason,” He whispers into his ear. “Then understand that it is quite all right, and I shall simply believe enough for the both of us…”

Oh goodness, this ended up way longer than I first expected it to when I was first compiling my ideas, but I honestly couldn’t help myself by the halfway point! Your question was so lovely, and I got so inspired by it, that I couldn’t help but give you something special in return for you taking the time to drop this in my askbox! Did I possibly overwhelm you with all the various snippets of writing from so many different scenarios? Most likely, but I hope that even despite that, you enjoyed reading all of this over!

As you may have already guessed, most of these came from different points in the boy’s lives – some during the Crisis, a little while after, and some even post the two-year time skip – so there’s a touch of flip flopping around, and some of these were actually quite old before character development actually set in. Meaning I had to do a little flash editing to make them presentable to how Korbin and his brothers act nowadays. But as I said, I hope you end up getting some feelings while reading, and you are satisfied with all the new information and scenarios involving these three!

If you have any further questions about the boys, are curious about one of the snippets above that you wish to see more of, or you just wish to poke my brain a little further in the near future, please feel free! I am always overjoyed and honored whenever you prompt me like this, and I always enjoy taking the time to answer you in full! Thank you so much again for leaving this message, sorry for making you wait a while – as well as possibly overwhelming you with all my writing lmao – and I hope that your days are filled with lots of love, hurt/comfort, and tons of hugs and kisses!

All the best to you, lovely Anon~ ♥

#Anonymous #TKTEATA Anon~#The Knight The Emperor And The Assassin~#My Fan Fiction~#Korbin and Lucien Related Things~#Korbin and Martin Related Things~#Martin and Lucien Related Things~#Good Lord this thing turned into an absolute monster of a post but considering that I just adored dear Anon's question so much #I had to turn around and give them something special!#Of course going over this I realized just how much I write in one setting and how big my stories can be now and again.#I had to trim a lot of fat and think of the best possible scene to put into this without it turning into ten thousand words of hurt/comfort.#It still wound up becoming quite big -- but hopefully it's a good kind of big.#In any case I want to thank you again for taking the time to give me this message lovely Anon!#You're always the best and I super appreciate you!#I have several other questions still to get to in my askbox but I'm slowly but surely getting around to them!#Thanks so much for the continued support and the patience my dudes~#I always adore and love you guys! ♥#Thanks for reading!

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panda-noosh · 6 years

Note

tbh every time i get a notif when you wrote something, my heart sings and i don't even notice i've been smiling lmao. i have a request! let's say that the paladins and their s/o somehow got to meet their future grown child for a little bit. now, the kick here is that they only just realized they love their s/o. how would they react? do they see their s/o in a whole new light? too baffled? or are they too caught up with the thought of "holy shit we made -that- and they're gorgeous"?

Here you go! x

Shiro:

He wouldn’t really believe the sight in front of him atfirst.

Of course, nobody really would. It’s a sight to behold, andwould definitely be a shock to the system.

But he recognises the person in front of him almostimmediately – his son looks a lot likehim. To the point where it’s kind of spooky.

Nobody else seems to care at first. They’re all running pastthe strange boy, making their way to the place they actually need to be, butShiro stops in his tracks, gawks for a little bit longer.

Honestly, he feels excitement.Excitement that this part of his future is confirmed now, that he won’t besome travelling astronaut for the rest of his life, and that you two will takethings to the next level eventually.

And obviously, he’s a little bit nervous.

Whenever he and his future-son finally get to speak, his sonprobably says something like, “God, I’m exhausted.”

And you all know Shiro can’t help but whisper to himself, “Helloexhausted, I’m Dad.”

Keith:

He’s so??? Unbelievably??? Happy???

Happy to the point where he genuinely has to lean against awall or something to stop himself from collapsing at the sight before him – of thelittle girl who is looking right back at him in awe, only after saying the word“Daddy?”

His world kind of comes to a stand-still for a moment,because he sees your features in the girl standing before him, but she has his violeteyes and there’s truly no mistaking who her parents are.

Keith can’t believe it.

He tries to deny it, but everybody is aware of him wantingto be a father. He truly believes that it is a challenge to raise a child, andhe’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

But he never thought he would be capable of doing such athing. Not with his emotion outburst and his mood swings and his past whichalways comes back to haunt him sometimes.

He wants nothing more than to have a family with you,though, so whenever he sees that that is, in fact, something that is going tohappen, it takes everything in his power to stop himself from crying tears ofabsolute joy then and there.

Lance:

He’s going to try and hide the fact that he’s shocked, buthe really is shocked.

Obviously.

But he doesn’t want everybody else knowing that, becausethat takes away from his aura of being the guy whose prepared for anything, andhe can’t be having that.

Whenever he first lays eyes on his son, everybody elsefalters because it’s so obviously Lance’sson that is standing before them. He’s built like Lance and he has that cheekygrin that Lance has – he has your hair, though, which makes Lance’s entire bodyfeel like he’s getting tickled by butterflies or something, because he’s alwaysloved your hair.

At first glance, it’s kind of hard for Lance to hide hissurprise, but he does a pretty good at it. There’s a moment that only somepeople catch onto where his smile kind of wavers and his eyes go wide and hischeeks flash a bright red colour, but it’s over as soon as it arrived.

Then he’s walking towards his future-son with thatswagger-like walk and he’s clapping him on the back like the two of them havebeen best friends since childhood.

Even though he’s giving off this aura of confidence,whenever he gets any snippet of time alone, he has to press himself against thewall and hold his hand to his heart, just to make sure his heartbeat isn’trising any further than humanly acceptable.

“Just wait until I tell Y/N about this.”

Hunk:

“Oh God. Do I invite her out to get ice cream with me? No,wait. I should just tell her where getting ice cream, right? That’s what dadsdo, isn’t it?”

Panicked little boi.

He thinks he has to be a dad then and there, in that verymoment, on the spot.

He seems to forget that, in the present, he isn’t even marriedto you yet.

He also seems to forget that, where he is now, his daughteris a full grown adult who has already been through life and has already got icecream with her father on multiple occasions.

The thing that really shatters Hunk, I think, would bewhenever his daughter looks at him. He doesn’t think she’ll recognise him, justbecause he’s so young compared to the father she knows, but her entire facefalls and tears are welling in her eyes.

“Dad?”

Oh, sweet Lord have mercy on my soul, because Hunk crumbles.

And the two of them hug so tightly, even though theybasically don’t know each other but as soon as Hunk wraps his arms around herwaist and tugs her into his embrace, it just feels right.

Like he was meant tohug his daughter.

“I’ll see you in a few years.”

Pidge:

Like Lance, she’ll pretend it doesn’t affect her all thatmuch even though it is completely ripping her insides to shreds because of theflaming anxiety ripping through her body in that moment.

She lays eyes on her son – who is most definitely her son,holy shit, look at how his hair grows if that isn’t Pidge Gunderson – and her world comes to a stand still atthat moment, but she hides it.

She shrugs whenever everybody turns to her with wide eyes. “Weexpected this kind of thing. Let’s get the job done.”

But all throughout the job, she’s sharing glances over hershoulder, making sure her son is okay. She tends to forget that he’s been doingthis very job for a few years now.

She just gets protective.

And everybody sees it. She does a God awful job of hidingit. It’s every few seconds she’s looking over her shoulder, making sure he’sokay and that he’s not getting injured.

Mother instincts, honestly.

There’s even a moment where she thinks his hand is gettingtoo close to the conveyer belt in a moving machine and she deadass leaps awayfrom her station, snatches his hand away and basically scolds him for not beingcareful.

And everybody is like “Aw, mama Pidge.”

By everybody, I mean me. I said that. Because Mama Pidge iseverything.

#voltron headcanon #request

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thewhiterabbit42 · 7 years

Text

Ground Rules

Part 4 of Home for the Holidays (Masterlist)

Summary: You finally arrive at your destination where you find the accommodations aren’t quite what you expected.

Pairings: (eventual) Gabriel x Reader

Warnings/tags: Human Gabriel, slow burn, bed sharing, implied PTSD

Word Count: 2180

Author’s Note: BRING ON THE TROPES. Also, my muse is really digging the slow burn.

Special thanks to my wonderful beta @sumara62 for all her help and support <3

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission. Giving credit does NOT count. Reblogging is ok.***

<<Previous Chapter Ground Rules Next Chapter>>

Gabriel had fallen asleep again, which was honestly for the best. Your trip had taken longer than anticipated once you got into the heart of the country. Winding, one-lane roads replaced interstates and highways, making it tough to make good time when you became stuck behind slower cars.

The route itself became more scenic. The only things you passed anymore were lakes, rivers, trees, and the occasional small town that broke up the stretches of untouched countryside. Maybe Gabriel would have enjoyed the landscapes, but you had a feeling the monotony would have only made him crawl out of his skin.

You had just passed through the last little pocket of humanity left on your drive when he began to stir. He ran a hand over his face, his fingers continuing up through his hair. It took some time for gold to shake its glassy look as he scanned the surrounding area. You wondered if he was going to be one of those slow to wake individuals who needed to ease into their day.

After a few minutes he cleared his throat, his voice a little scratchy. “Anyone else, and I’d be worried about why we’re headed this far into the woods.”

He didn’t quite sound like he was joking.

“I have plenty of places to hide bodies that are much closer to Kansas,” you assured him, trying to keep things light. He let out a soft snort but left things there, drawn in once more by his thoughts or the scenery. You weren’t sure which anymore.

It took another fifteen minutes before your turn came into view, and you were glad to see the gates had been left open. You had debated whether or not to come in through the back, but over the river and through the woods seemed the best way to arrive without drawing attention. Your current plates were from Arkansas, an unusual state to be visiting up this far. You hoped your friends still kept an extra set of local plates stashed in their barn to help you blend in.

You eased your way onto the long, sloping driveway, taking your time to scout what you could see of the grounds on your way up. When you crested the hill, the treeline broke and the inn came into view. It looked so different from the last time you were there. You were used to thick woods, lush lawn, green as far as the eye could see.

Everything had become faded, muted now that autumn’s colorful song had passed, leaving only brittleness and bare branches behind. A number of tall pines was the only spark of color along with the bright white siding of the structure itself, and you imagined it must be quite the sight to behold in the fall when the leaves turned.

The snow would come, however, and change the barren view before you. There was that dry, winter nip in the air that promised soon. A series of aches flared throughout your body, and you weren’t certain if it was due to just the thought of a winter storm, the result of your long drive, or if it was another set of memories unlocking beneath your skin.

Nothing good had ever brought you here, yet you felt a sense of calm as you neared the building. You had spent more time in this place than any other over the last several years. It might have been as close to home as you came.

“We’re staying here?” Gabriel asked, wide eyes painting his words with disbelief as he stared up at the structure.

You could only imagine what he expected considering hunting didn’t really go hand in hand with having any tangible resources. He’d probably envisioned some run down, oversized house that tried to pass as habitable.

Red and Roxy weren’t your average hunters, however, and, in Gabriel’s defense, this place was more impressive than your standard inn. The architecture was a mixture of a few traditional New England styles with modern additions, and the building itself was a combination of a three-floored original structure and a two story addition that had been added along the side in a way that made the structure appear to wrap around itself.

The guest rooms were located in the original half, with each room having its own window. The newer wing was where your friends lived, having renovated it from storage into an apartment so they could live on site. They also added a wraparound porch that ran along the front entrance facing the east, making it a prime spot to spend the morning. You could see a few of the chairs still remained, though most had been removed in anticipation of the colder weather.

“Well, I’m staying here,” you teased, inclining your head up at the large, red building you began to pass. “You’re welcome to sleep in the barn, if you’d like.”

He had no other comments after that.

You parked your car along along the back entryway, content that this side of the property kept your presence shielded from either entrance to the property. The inside was far different than the exterior. Quiet, dark, and eerie, it looked more like a potential case. It didn’t help that your friends were in the midst of some construction.

Clean, plastic sheeting hung down across walls and overlaid every doorway you passed. Most of the furniture had been covered with sheets and the floors removed, leaving thick boards of plywood as the only thing that stood between you and the basement. You noted that the kitchen, thankfully, appeared fully functional as you passed through the hallway that connected to the main entrance.

You didn’t bother switching on the lights until you reached the front foyer, dispelling the gloomy atmosphere. The large open area was welcoming, adorned with bright colored wood that gave the room a cozy, rustic feel. The front desk sat off to the side, bare, save for a white envelope with your name across it. The fact that the script was neat and legible suggested Roxy was the one who had left it.

You picked it up, noting the unusual heaviness to it before you opened the flap. Inside was an antique key and a note written in the same handwriting.

Sorry about how the place looks - we finally got around to renovating, but needed to take care of a few things before we could finish. We managed to get one of the rooms completed after you called. Here’s the key. We should be back within a week.

Your brows drew together. Your friends had no family left (or at least in Red’s case, none that he’d consider family anymore), and since purchasing the inn they made it a point to stay local. What kind of business could they have that would pull them away for that long?

Help yourself to whatever you need (if you can find it - and if you do, please put it back some place that makes sense since Red’s idea of organization translates to finding the first available place to stash something).

Your lips pulled up, imagining your friend’s frustration at her other half’s less than stellar ability to keep track of anything that wasn’t anti-angel or barbecue sauce.

Oh and just one more thing - I haven’t gotten a chance to discuss that thing we talked about.

You frowned. You didn’t remember any thing, unless...

You know… the large, feathered elephant in the room.

You knew it. You knew the moment Red wasn’t there to greet you with a stern nod and Gabriel with a shotgun that she had lost nerve to tell him his mortal enemy would be living under his roof.

You sighed. What the hell were you supposed to do now?

One cluster at a time.

You were getting awfully tired of telling yourself that.

We’ll figure it out though, Roxy finished. We always do.

Sure you guys did. Usually after certain words were exchanged, and sometimes certain bullets.

“Something wrong?” Gabriel asked, his body moving closely behind yours as he peered over your shoulder. Your instincts flailed as snippets of sensation exploded across your system and--

--white sterile tile, unforgiving fingers digging tight into your skin, your entire body burning, from the harsh antiseptic smell in your nose, to the tears in your eyes, to the heavy rage and betrayal searing through your veins--

--you let out a yelp, clutching the paper to your chest as you spun around. Hearing his voice was the only thing that kept you from attacking. Mostly. You hit him soundly in the chest, your panic quickly morphing into anger.

“Yeesh, someone’s jumpy these days.” The look he gave you contradicted the flippant remark, helping to dampen some of your ire.

“Of course I’m jumpy, I’m a hunter” you reminded him, hoping to ease some of the worry on his face. “A very sleep deprived one.”

“Shall we fix that?” He asked. “Because my next suggestion would be to disarm you if you have other plans.”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He still looked more serious than anything, but his words began to shake off some of their stiffness.

“Rule number one: always stay armed,” you instructed. The only reason you were still alive was because you made sure you had your main weapon, a backup, and a backup for your backup if possible.

“Hate to break it to you, sweets, but that rule’s been broken from the start,” he replied.

You blinked once. Twice. Once more for good measure. Because it was sure as hell better than unleashing the fury that flowed into your veins. “They didn’t give you anything?”

“They didn’t even trust me with the toaster,” he said with a bitter smile.

Just when you thought your opinion of the Winchesters couldn’t get any worse.

You clenched your jaw, hard, probably ensuring that some lucky dentist would be putting their kid through college in the near future. You reached across your body, unclipping the gun from your side before offering it to him. “Every other bullet in this is a devil’s trap. You can have it until we get you your own.”

He looked impressed for a moment as he took it from you, testing the weight in his hand before his eyes flicked back up to you. “What about you?”

You lifted the other side of your shirt to reveal a second weapon.

“Can’t be too careful these days,” you explained, shifting slightly as that intense look overtook his gaze again. You brushed past him, eager to escape his scrutiny. “Come on. Let’s go find our room.”

“Wait - room?” He echoed after a few moments. You pulled the key out of the envelop and held it up over your head, his footsteps hastily shuffling in your direction. You braced yourself, waiting for him to make some comment, but he didn’t say another word.

You would have preferred it if he did. You knew how to handle his jokes; the silence, however, was harder to navigate, especially when there seemed to be so much of it.

Thankfully your room was one of the first on the second floor, leaving only the short ascent up the main staircase before you found yourself at your door. You slid the key into the lock, giving it a firm turn before pushing your way in. What you walked into had your eyes growing wide.

The design was a combination of intricate masonry and warm wooden tones. Unlike the rest of the house, the hardwood flooring was intact, recently replaced but still retaining a rustic, worn look to it. To the right lay a fireplace and mantel, built from stone and laid into the wall with a small outcropping in front of it, where the spare wood and tools for the fire were stored.

Both remaining walls had windows, and you realized this was the room that sat in the front corner of the house, giving you the best view of the sunrise and surrounding area. The incredible scene became lost on you, however, as your eyes remained riveted on the furniture… or lack thereof.

A solitary bed adorned the space, looking out of place with its antique headboard stained several shades darker than the floor and decadent throw pillows and comforter. You would bet the sheets were just as lavish, and you almost dropped your face into your palm. What were you supposed to do now? There was no way you were going to make him sleep on the floor and your body was in no condition to try and brave it.

“You know, if you wanted to snuggle, all you had to do was ask,” Gabriel teased, doing his best to give you space as he peered in around the opposite side of the doorframe. This time there was something beneath his tone, breathing life back into his words and features as he gave you the tiniest smirk.

“Rule number two:,” you announced, suddenly finding the need to re-prioritize your guidelines. “Keep your hands to yourself…”

Next Chapter>>

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes @sumara62 @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @deaths-maiden @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met @blondecoffeecake @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @the-moose-of-baskerville @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @tistai @christinalibertymikaelson @room-with-a-cat @authoressskr @revwinchester @flufy07 @greieba

Gabe Squad:

@theblackenedsky @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @pepperwoodatnight @lacqueluster @samikitten @a-vast-african-plain @onlyanothersocialcasualty @kazosa @carryon-wayward-winchester @nobodys-baby-now @dlb1999 @ludwigs-a-monster

Home for the Holidays: @unleashthemidnight @archangelgabriellives @4evergeek @schizonephilim @winchestergirl-13 @keepingcalmisoverratedgoddamnit

#Gabriel x reader #Gabriel fluff #gabriel series #fluff #bed sharing #human gabriel #home for the holidays #rabbit writes

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