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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Brothers React to the MC Looking at Them Lovingly

This is a personal experiment. This is the very first time I've written one of these with a goal in mind, "Make them fall in love all over again." It's a tall order. I hope I succeeded. 🙏 Special thanks to @a-chaotic-dumbass for picking the mood for this one!

Intro:

We all know that look. The one where one person stares at another like they just realized they're the only thing in the universe and they're in fucking awe of it. The kind of look that tells you they're utterly enthralled by that other person and just can't get enough of their presence. That look. Yeah, the brothers just got that look out of the MC.

Let's warm some cold hearts, everybody.

Lucifer

Lucifer was always beautiful. Always has been, as an angel or a demon.

A morning star is one that outshines all the rest. It stands out when the other stars have dimmed, holding onto its luster in defiance of the sun.

There couldn't be a truer title for Lucifer to have. Not the horrors of war nor the fires of Hell could tarnish his radiance in any way…

But there were moments, like right then, where the MC caught a glimpse of a different sort of Lucifer.

His brothers would often only see the uptight Lucifer, the practiced visage of perfection that he tried so hard to keep up…

But after a long day, when he thinks he's alone, he retires to his room to listen to his music and the difference is astonishing.

There's something so entrancingly calm about him… How the light of the fireplace flickers and dances across his alabaster skin to the subtle slouch of his posture. His face no longer marred by creases of stress and frustration…

And his expression is so pure… So tranquil and at peace… Beauty without effort. A shine that can't be ignored. A morning star, in the truest sense of the word…

It took awhile for Lucifer to see the MC leaning against his doorframe.

They were staring at him with the oddest look… Smiling like they were enraptured by something, but he didn't have a clue why. He was just sitting there…

So, naturally, he turned to suspicion.

"Am I really that amusing…?"

Frankly, he wasn’t prepared for the little laugh they let out in response.

"Mm? No, no... I'm just always so amazed by you, is all. I'll leave you to your music..."

Having thoroughly ruined the mood, the MC then turned to leave. But Lucifer was already upon them before they could step away, wrapping his arms around their waist and letting contented hum escape his chest.

"Going so soon…?"

Apparently he appreciated the compliment.

Mammon

He didn't have to do it.

When Belphie bumped into one of the House's vases, shattering it against the tile, he didn’t have to take the fall for it.

It wasn’t connected to him at all. He could have stayed quiet and no one would have pointed a finger at him for once.

But he did.

When Mammon set his phone down on the table, MC knew instantly that he had lied in the chat.

He was with them the entire day, he didn't have the time to accidentally break a vase. He hadn't even gone down that hallway all day...

But he said something anyway.

And he didn't even look fazed. He didn't turn towards them seeking approval nor did he look irritated that Belphie didn't speak up. He didn't curse at himself for doing something so self-sacrificing either...

When Mammon leaned back into the cushion of his couch, the MC saw something truly remarkable on his face… A smile. A small one, sure, but relaxed…

Assured in his own actions. Confident in his choice and accepting the consequences… undeserved, and likely thankless, they may be.

A genuine, serene smile…

Mammon wasn't sure what he expected to see when he turned to the MC. Probably confusion or disbelief that he, the Great Mammon, could be so selfless.

Definitely not the awed, lovestruck look he got...

"G-gah!" He panicked slightly and pressed himself back against the armrest of the couch in shock. "Wh-... What'cha lookin at me like that for??"

When the MC didn't answer after a few seconds and just kept staring, he honestly didn't know what to do. Were they broken or something??

"Oi, MC! I asked ya wh-Hey wait a minute!!"

He made a noise between a yelp and a shout when the MC leapt forward and latched their arms onto him. What had gotten into them??

"U-uh… MC? MC?? Damnit MC, answer me already!! Or at least stop squeezin so tight!!... MC!!!"

Leviathan

To anyone else, it was just Levi being Levi.

He had finished a new episode of his latest animated obsession and he had to share it with someone. Anyone would do, but the MC was always willing to lend an ear.

Something about Levi really changes when he talks about his passions… It's like he comes alive in a whole new way.

He speaks at a mile-a-minute, but that's because he's so excited the words fly from his mouth.

Some part of him is always bouncing, be it his leg or body. Sometimes even his tail will swish and curl behind him like an ecstatic puppy. And his eyes…

Citrine pools that glimmer and dilate from the exhilaration of it all. It's his little world and anyone can see he's thrilled to be sharing it.

You'd never know he was shy. You'd never think he'd look down himself. You'd never guess that he hid himself away… Why would someone so full of passion and life ever want to? Some things are just too beautiful to keep hidden...

Levi had only gotten six minutes into his latest rant before he finally registered how the MC was staring at him…

This man has seen enough shoujo to know what that look means and it shut him up sooo quick. If anyone else were in the room they would have seen a beet-red Levi desperately trying to hide his face.

"M-MC…! S-top staring at me like that…!!"

"Like what~?"

He didn't have to look at them to hear the teasing lilt in their voice.

"MC…" He peeked out from behind his fingers to see them still staring and covered himself up more vigorously. "Stoooop…!!!"

But secretly? He wished they'd never stop. His cheeks may have been red from embarrassment, but his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest to hug them itself. Hell, he'd have happily given it over to them if they'd asked…

Please just let those loving eyes be for him and him alone...

Satan

Soft isn't exactly a word anybody would use to describe Satan, least of all himself.

His anger was quick to spark, his strength was nothing to scoff at, and even his smiles were nothing but plastic for nearly all of his existence…

Nearly.

The MC learned surprisingly quick that there was one thing that could bypass all of the hidden ferocity to Satan's personality. Something that could make him melt like butter in the summer sun…

Satan had always looked a little cute when he was reading. He was easily at his most expressive when engrossed in a thrilling story or deeply intrigued by something he found between the pages of a book…

But watching Satan read about cats, as he was right then, was really something else entirely.

Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes would sparkle or the lopsided grin he just couldn't hide as he would scan the pages about the playful habits of Bengals or the relaxed nature of Ragdolls…

Maybe it was the sheer impassioned dedication he took the subject, pouring countless hours into collecting and memorizing every fact he could from their diets to coat maintenance.

Or maybe it was the sheer fact that anytime he saw a picture of kitty in-print he looked like a besotted schoolgirl drawing hearts around her crush in a teen magazine.

Really, who's to say? But to the MC, it was proof that under all that anger, there was a tender, loving center even for the smallest, softest creatures…

Satan automatically snapped his book closed when he saw MC watching him from behind a bookshelves. Caught red-handed…

He knows exactly how he looks when he's doing his research internally squealing over cat pictures so he tries to do so in private...

He was about to sputter out a defensive explanation but then he registered their face…

He'd seen that look described in stories, romance novels mostly, but he'd rarely seen it in action… and never once leveled at him with such intensity…

Not to be cliche, but frankly his heart skipped a beat.

Satan forgot about his book briefly and got up to close the distance between them, tilting their chin up to keep their eyes on him.

"Like something that you see, Kitten?"

"You could say that…"

He laughed at their attempt to play coy, but let it slide just this once… Easy to do with them looking at him so amorously.

Asmodeus

Asmo is a very popular demon. Someone so free ought to know quite a lot of people, after all.

And, of course, he had plenty of fans. He made DevilTube videos, hosted radio shows, fashion designed, and even modeled.

So it wasn't very surprising when a young demoness stopped him while he and the MC were out shopping. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to sign autographs, but this meeting… it was different.

It was clear to them both that this girl was shy. Though she held out the paper, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground and she stumbled on her question… She likely a fan from afar, but everything about her seemed meek… unassuming.

Most people would have just gave the autograph then went on with their day. The interaction could have taken five seconds at most… but not Asmo.

He asked her name… where she was from, how she was feeling, her favorite foods, outfits, makeup, you name it. All with investment.

It was amazing to watch the shy young woman slowly open up, getting more bright and cheerful with each passing question until it evolved into a healthy conversation.

When their little meeting finally wrapped up, he gave her back the paper (now signed) but also fished out a bottle of perfume from among the mountains of bags he was carrying. He gave it to her and wouldn't hear anything to the contrary, he could always buy another.

None of his brothers ever gave Asmo enough credit for his giving nature… even if he had his own way of going about it. Though he cared so much about image and his ability to shine, he never hesitated to make sure that the people around him shined too...

Asmo waved to the fan as she scampered away and was about to apologize to the MC when he saw their face…

The man knows this look well. He's seen it a billion times, though it was particularly cute coming from them.

"Awww MC! Taken by my beauty are you~?"

He was about ready to kiss their cheek when they responded.

"No, not your looks, Asmo… with you."

… Oh.

It was very rare to see Asmo speechless, but for a few seconds his mind seemed to take in their words… letting them fully sink in before his heart utterly melting.

Oh MC… His sweet MC!!

Asmo ended up dropping the rest of his bags just so he could properly litter his human in nuzzles and kisses, the both of them humming and giggling in delight despite their shameless PDA.

Of course it would be his MC to see that part in himself… Who else would take the time?

Beelzebub

Food is a precious resource to Beel. For him, it's a lifeline. A good meal could save him from the brink of starvation…

But that still doesn't make him incapable of sharing from time to time.

He and the MC were walking back to the House after getting takeout from Hell's Kitchen. Beel hadn't even waited until they left the restaurant to start eating his share, spilling the smell of fresh food into the air around them…

Things were going fine on their route back until they heard whimpering behind them…

A hellhound puppy, not quite old enough to bear its fangs, seemingly followed them as they were walking… It looked like it had been out for some time and eyed their food with hungry eyes, but weak posture. Who knows when it last had a meal?

The MC was about to tug at Beel's sleeve and say something, but their demon was ahead of them this time.

A casual observer might have gawked at the sight of Gluttony kneeling down to offer such a lowly creature a sandwich. But the MC knew better. When you spend your whole life hungry, nobody more than you understands that kind of pain in someone else.

This reaction wasn't out of character for Beel, it was elementary.

And when the puppy finished its meal and covered Beel's cheeks with appreciative licks, he just laughed and scratched behind its ears. Amethyst eyes looking more relieved at its health than disappointed he lost some of his lunch...

Food was Beel's lifeline, but kindness is what made him who he was…

When the pup finally scampered off, Beel looked over at the MC to tell them it'd be alright and saw their face…

He wasn't really sure what they were staring at… Did he have something between his teeth again?

"MC? Are you okay...?"

They laughed at him for some reason but pulled him in for a hug so they must have meant well.

"You're so sweet, Beel…"

Beel's never one to refuse a compliment so he just hugged them back, beaming.

"Thank you, MC…"

Belphegor

To say that Belphegor tended to be on the melancholic side would be an understatement… It wasn’t that he was incapable of expressing joy, it was just harder for him to do than most. Not helped, of course, by his tendency to keep his true feelings vague and hard to pinpoint.

But on those rare occasions where he was overjoyed… Belphie could really be something special…

The MC and Belphie were attending one of Beel's games and it was a tight one… Both teams had spent most of it tied and Beel's team was running out of time to overtake that slim margin.

Belphie had always been a supporter of his twin's athletics, but this time it was tense even for him. He kept on the edge of his seat and didn't even nod off during the breaks like he normally would… The MC could just tell how nervous he was for Beel…

But right as the time was about to run out, Beel made a last minute score and sure, the whole field erupted, but Belphie? Belphie hollered.

The normally sleepy and mellow demon was on his feet in an instant and practically shredding his vocal chords in excitement. If his tail had been out, it would have been beating against the bleachers like a war-drum. And his expression?

Belphie's smile is said to stop hearts for a reason. When he puts his all into a grin it's almost like he ascends to Heaven once more, as pure as an angel's choir and as warm as a summer's breeze… Nothing in his eyes but pride and adoration for his beloved twin brother.

Truly, a heartwarming sight to behold…

Belphie didn't calm down until the rest of the crowd settled and was about to point out Beel's skill to the MC when he noticed their face.

… oh no… Why do they look so sappy…?

"You really love your brother, don't you?"

Belphie quickly hid his thoughts behind an irritated frown and plopped back down in his seat… but that didn't shield them from seeing his pink cheeks.

"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"

He debated just joining Beel on the field to hide his embarrassment when he heard them snicker back.

"Yeah, you're right… Don't mind me."

Oh he minded. He minded a lot that he let his carefully veiled image slip like that. But thinking back to that smile on their face…?

Maybe being a little open wasn't so bad after all...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me scenarios

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zane-romeave · 2 years

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regarding submissive uwu breedable zane ro’meave

although zanvis typically accredited with it’s creation, submissive uwu breedible zane ro’meave (which will henceforth be referred to as SUBZ for my own sake) was a plague that affected all zane x dude ships in the aphmau fandom. fics that include SUBZ usually depict zane as a vulnerable, too pure for this world little bean that the other party (typically travis or gene) is free to either fix or fuck with. these fics were often written by a younger demographic and tended to feature a number of problematic tropes, triggering topics, and demonization/infantilization of mental illness. also SUBZ kept turning into a neko. just constantly. all the time. catboy hours out the wazoo.

but, those are all issues that apply to any mlm ship in any fandom. i’m here to talk about my issues with SUBZ, not a systematic issue that an essay on BakuDeku or SaiOma or Gacha kids or general fandom could explain much better than I ever could. my account is called zane-romeave, don’t expect too much more than zane content.

there isn’t anything too wrong with zane being uwu. zane has been uwu as early as his first appearance. i’m not going to deny my lil guy to sip his lil tea and get his lil beauty rest and tell aph that no one will trust his word over hers because he is just a lil guy who has done nothing wrong, uwu.

but zane ro’meave is not a submissive lil bottom why tf is that the popular interpretation of his character.

i don’t really know what more to say about that he straight up just, is not. zane doesn’t just roll over like an obedient dogboy at every minor inconvenience. i have no idea who this fictional man is that you are all talking about but he is not my asshole catboy zane ro’meave. he’s power hungry and thrives when in control. if given the opportunity he will gladly turn whoever into his lil puppet. he will achievworld domination if it costs him his left eye.

and this isn’t even just my silly little headcanon it’s the most consistent part of his characterization. mcd zane....exists. mermaid tails zane works for tavari to complete his end goal of being a larger crab. mystreet zane rarely helps people if there's nothing to gain, often adding humiliating favors to his negotiations (ex. refusing to help kc with anything ever again unless she follows all his advice exactly). even lil baby sophomore zane in pdh s2 chose to commit a crime and pin it on the sks so he can save the day in the end so they are both indebted to him and think he is badass. this was a response to making him cry. zane ro’meave could kill god.

SUBZ, by nature of being submissive, could never do any of that! He’s written to be pathetic and vulnerable, an overly passive permanent pity partier so the other party can swoop in and save the day. SUBZ is often the target of a sad and tragic backstory but is rarely, if ever allowed to stand up against whatever it is that’s harming him currently. you see, if the other party magically solves all the issues with their big muscles, SUBZ will instantly fall in love and get mpreged and they will live happily ever after as a nuclear family. if that doesn’t happen, SUBZ will just die a tragic death. How is SUBZ supposed to kill god if he’s physically unable to hurt a fly?

i do understand that i have made out zane canon to be a bit of a heartless monster who shouldn’t be in any kind of relationship. however, the power thing is also what makes zane great for both platonic and romantic ships. once zane warms up to a person, he develops a protective devotion unmatched by the divines themselves. a passionate young man, zane will do whatever it takes to keep the object of his affection safe and happy, prioritizing them over others and himself — not in a SUBZ way he’s just got low self importance — because they deserve it. although he isn’t outwardly affectionate, it is with genuine love and care that he tries to be the zane the other party wants him to be.

SUBZ can not love. Not with the instensity and passion that Zane can love.

SUBZ would never think to threaten aaron because SUBZ wants aph to have the guy of her dreams. SUBZ would not break all of his codes and help someone just because aph wants that of him. SUBZ wouldn’t try and change himself for the better at aph’s bequest. SUBZ wouldn’t have to psych himself up to ask to take this relationship slower because he knows it would upset his partner. If faced with a traumatic life or death situation in which he’s kidnapped, gets turned into a mindslave , discovers ghosts exist and want to hit that, and garrothed, SUBZ would not bottle all that up and beat himself up over being unable to protect his best friend from a similar fate.

not saying that’s healthy or anything (it is not, btw) just saying that SUBZ is a piece of printer paper so devoid of zane he’s practically a different character. by ignoring zane’s weird power thing, you’re ignoring 80% of your zane. you’re left with nothing but ponies, cupcakes, and a list of traits without any meaning or motive behind them. that’s not a character, that’s the opening to g4 MLP.

TL;DR: Zane Ro’Meave is a chad alpha male who makes anyone else look submissive and breedable by comparison

#aphmau #zane ro'meave #aphmau zane #aphmau mystreet #mcd #mystreet #zanvis #zene #also couldnt fit this into the main point but #usually in mlm pairings the person who #comes first in the ship is the dom #and zane comes first in all of them #also nothing against bottom zane #he would be a dom bottom though #zane romeave #suggestive

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anthrat · 3 years

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Like a Moth to a Flame

Shino Aburame/Reader

Shino has been away on a mission for the last couple of days, as his girlfriend you make the executive decision to start waking up early in the hopes you'll be able to welcome him back to the village

1785 words

It was another beautiful morning in Konohagakure, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a faint orange glow upon the streets. You sighed heavily, thrusting your hands in your pockets as you made your way towards the entrance gate. Mornings didn’t really suit you. Unfortunately, being a ninja meant you had to begrudgingly abandon your dreams of being able to sleep until noon without interruption. You were secretly quite jealous of those who could handle waking up early without feeling like they’d been hit by a bus, mornings really made the world feel different somehow. Nothing quite felt the same, on the few occasions you were awake this early you always felt as though you were somehow out of place, disturbing the complete calm which enveloped the world. In just a few short hours the peace and tranquillity would be broken by the bustling of people as they went about their day to day lives. This was the third morning in a row you’d woken up early, as much as you hated the loss of sleep you had a very good reason to be up. It would be any day now that your boyfriend would be returning from his mission.

You and Shino had only been dating for a few months but by God, you loved that man. Everything about him made your heart skip a beat, maybe it was because you were young and stupid but you honestly couldn’t see yourself ever finding a better man. He was perfect, yet so misunderstood. People constantly mistook his stoic nature for ignorance or a lack of compassion but you knew first hand that wasn’t the case. Even before you’d started dating you couldn’t understand how people didn’t see him for the pure and gentle soul he truly was. Shino was a man of small actions, never one for grandiose displays of affection. That’s what you loved most about him, everything was genuine, nothing was for show. The little gifts he gave you every time you spent time together, things like pretty rocks, cicada shells and feathers which seemed worthless but weren’t. They were always gifted to you alongside a story of how they had reminded him of you. Even when his gifts had more material value they were always well thought out. You’d often come home to find small packages with the new book you’d wanted, your favourite snacks and even things like milk and bread which you hadn’t even realised you’d run out of. Your hand instinctively reached towards your neck, gently fingering the necklace he had gifted you before you’d begun dating. You smiled, remembering your complete and utter confusion when you’d first received it.

The necklace was adorned with a small moth pendant, at the time you’d looked at Shino, unsure of what to make of it. You knew he loved bugs but even then… A moth? Something like a butterfly or ladybug you’d understand but a moth seemed so unfitting. Sensing your confusion Shino had quietly explained the importance of the moth. “Why is it a moth? It’s because they are a symbol of determination. They always fly towards the light even when their efforts may prove to be futile. Just like the moth, I hope you always have faith in your own abilities and continue to have the strength to never give up.” You remembered the blush that had adorned his face as he said this to you, the intensity of his stare as he waited for your reaction. The warmth of his body as you pulled him into a tight embrace, hiding your own blush by burying your head into his chest as you thanked him profusely. It was after that day that you found yourself unable to rid your mind of Shino. No matter where you were or what you were doing, from that moment onwards you’d been bitten by a love bug.

You waved to Kotetsu and Izumo as you walked past, Izumo grinned at you “We were just wondering when you’d show up grasshopper. Don’t worry, you haven’t missed Shino”

You blushed profusely and murmured a thank you, slightly increasing your walking speed as you exited the village, trying to ignore the fading voices of Kotetsu and Izumo as they called after you. You’d made the mistake of telling them that Shino often gave you nicknames of bugs, they’d taken this as an invitation to only refer to you as some sort of insect. Finding the patch of grass you’d claimed as your own you slumped into a sitting position, your back pushing against the wall surrounding the village. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but it had served you well over the last few days. Pulling your knees towards yourself you rested your chin on top. Your eyes strained against the light of the sun as you tried to focus on the road ahead, hoping that you’d soon be able to make out the figure of Shino. It wasn’t long before you found yourself slowly drifting off.

You could feel something warm on your face, “Mmmf go away” you mumbled sleepily, wafting your hand to try and fend whatever the warmth was away. Instead, your hands made contact with something large and furry. Very confused and startled, you opened your eyes. To your surprise, your vision was almost entirely obscured by the nose and snout of a very large, white dog. “Hello Akamaru!” You grinned, scrunching him behind his ears and marvelling at how furiously his tail was wagging.

“Yo, Y/N!”

You looked up as three figures made their way towards you, hauling yourself up and wiping your legs free from any dirt you waved at them, a huge grin plastered on your face.

“Morning Kiba, Hinata and Shino, lovely day for a walk isn’t it? How was your mission?” You asked whilst gently patting Akamaru’s head.

Kiba gave you a goofy grin “It was great! Me and Akamaru absolutely destroyed these two ninjas and-”

“Uhm… Kiba…” Hinata mumbled, “Didn’t those two ninjas end up capturing you?”

“Hey, Hinata shut up!” Kiba shouted, “Getting captured was all a part of my plan so we could complete the mission” he explained to you, he opened his mouth as if to continue before he was interrupted.

“It wasn’t a plan. Why? Because you never plan anything, you just run in headfirst and put everyone else in danger” As he said this, Shino gently pushed his goggles further up his nose. You snorted as Kiba stuttered a number of insults at both his teammates, something about them being unsupportive of his fighting methods. You weren’t really sure.

“Well, whatever. Never mind me, Y/N what are you even doing up this early, and what were you doing on the ground?” Kiba questioned, clearly he was desperate to change the subject.

“Ah, well… I was actually waiting for Shino, I wanted to speak to him” you responded, turning your head to smile at the goggle-wearing shinobi. Although it was hard to see Shino’s face behind his large collar, you could have sworn you saw it turn a gentle shade of pink as you said this.

“Really? What do you even see in this guy anyway, he’s so quiet and-” “Kiba, let’s leave” Hinata murmured, pulling gently on his sleeve trying to guide him into the village. “Don’t worry about the report Shino, me and Kiba can do it ourselves.”

“What? That’s not fair! How come Shino doesn’t have to come with us? Reporting missions is such a waste of time! We’re a team aren’t we? We should always -” He paused as Shino glared at him. You shuddered slightly, Shino wasn’t even looking in your direction yet you could feel the anger within his gaze. Raising his hands in defeat Kiba turned away from you both, “Alright I get it you two. Have fun or whatever. Shino, you can count on us to report to the Hokage.”

You stood besides Shino and watched them leave, gently brushing your hand against his. As soon as the pair were out of sight you practically leapt onto him, burying your head into his chest and wrapping him in as tight an embrace as you could. “Welcome home” You murmured into him. You felt him initially stiffen, and then soften as he relaxed into your arms, wrapping his own around you and pulling you closer. You stayed like that for a while, his head rested atop yours, you listening to the quickened beating of his heart. He was the first to pull away, moving his hands to cup gently cup your face, lifting your chin slightly so you could meet his gaze.

“What did you want to speak about? Did something happen whilst I was away?”

You placed your hands on top of his and slowly pulled them away from your face so you could hold them. “Nothing in particular, I just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You smiled up at him, interlacing your fingers with his.

“I see,” he responded quietly. “I missed you too.”

He pulled your hands towards his lips, leaving gentle kisses on each of your knuckles before grabbing your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss. You could feel yourself melting, you gently pulled his hood down and laced your fingers behind his head. You felt his hands trail down to your waist, gently stroking your sides as he pulled you in even closer. You withdrew from the kiss, panting slightly as you tried to steady your breath. Shino gently kissed your nose, a slight smile forming on his lips as you scrunched it in response. He wasn’t entirely sure if you’d ever be able to understand just how much this meant to him. He’d finally found someone who remembered him, someone who genuinely missed him when he wasn’t there. After years of feeling like a third wheel, years of feeling like his friends didn’t even know who he was he’d found you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I love you” He didn’t even wait for your response, he instead pulled you in for another kiss, his lips crashing against yours. All your previous kisses had always been gentle, somewhat tentative and uncertain. This one was rough. You could feel the quiet desperation in the kiss, the years of repressed emotions spilling out His hands gripped your waist as his lips grew more frantic. You placed a comforting hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

“I love you too” you breathed, barely being able to catch your breath before his lips smashed into yours, hungrier than before. You smiled inwardly, questioning why it was only now you’d decided to start welcoming him back home from missions.

#shino aburame #shino x reader #shino aburame x reader #fanfic #naruto #reader fic #naruto fanfiction

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hyunjinssmile · 4 years

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STUCK; h.hj || Jurassic Park AU

PART ONE : A NEW ADVENTURE Includes: Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Science Mumbo-Jumbo, DINOSAURS, lots of references to the original movies (Obviously changed situations), Death, a sprinkle of scary stuff, maybe some smut (I mean, I am a smut blog after all) really slow burn romance. Chapter: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10)

word count: 1,500

The sound of the wind and the dust whipping away from the earth below is the only thing occupying your mind as you gently brushed the loose sand and dirt from the surface. You were completely concentrated, your hand moving in calculated movements, you could possibly have this skeleton dug up by the end of the week, if the weather was on your side. These thoughts subsided as loud footsteps found their way into your mind. ’Y/N Y/L/N, Hwang Hyunjin, what an honor’ the obnoxious voice started, You rolled your eyes, hearing a scoff from Hyunjin. ‘We have a proposition for you’

‘Hand me that brush over there’ you reply, completely uninterested,

‘which one? The big fluffy one or the round one?’ the man asked,

‘the one I’m pointing at’ you insisted, pointing at the left of the little red toolbox.

Hyunjin watches on in amusement as you pay no attention to the man interrupting the dig, looking up from his spot at the tail of the new raptor skeleton you had both found.

‘there’s two there- which?’ he points to the right side, completely frazzled by your attitude.

‘this one’

You smile at your apprentice, Jeongin who passes you the angled brush from the other side of the tool box, chuckling softly at the look on the mans face.

It had been an hour, and the business man hadn’t taken the hint; you weren’t interested in leaving the dig-site. Seungmin and Minho look up from the other dig-site,

‘Jeongin,’ you begin, your tone of voice making him realize instantly where this is going, playing along like a finely tuned instrument. ‘Yes, y/n?’

‘do you think this lovely man understands that we aren’t interested yet?’

The silence in the air is thick as everyone turns to the speechless business man, his face turning red slowly as he fumbled on his words.

A slow clap caused everyone to break from their staring, a man dressed in all white emerging from behind the now dejected looking business man. ‘I expected as much, from the worlds best duo’ the man said, the grayish beard on his chin moving slightly any time he enunciated a word. ‘Actually, we are a team. A team of five.’ You grumbled, picking up your brush before going to start working again, ‘yes, yes, okay, team of five. What I am trying to say here, is your team is the best of the best when it comes to dinosaurs, and I, have a new dig-site opportunity for you.’ ‘With all due respect, we already have a dig-site’ Hyunjin steps in, referencing to the fossil in the hardened surface. ‘yes, but you dont have this one.’ the man seemed excited, but the glint in his eye, you weren't sure if it was of pure nature, or of a deeper greed. you rolled your eyes again, ready to just tell Hyunjin to keep working with you and ignore them, before the man said something that caught your attention. ‘A small island off of the coast of Costa-Rica, your whole team- all expense paid trip, and a whole bunch of new dinosaurs to discover.’ You froze in place, you were not expecting that at all. Usually the offers you got were smaller, less funded trips, that required more effort from you, for more profit for others, eventually Hyunjin and yourself decided to work on your own, with your own team, doing your work when and how you wanted it. You looked over at your team. Seungmin and Minho’s eyes were wide, their interest sparked at the mention of new dinosaurs, their dreams of discovery seeming closer than ever. Jeongin was trying not to smile too hard, whilst being shocked, and he was failing, the young boy’s love for dinosaurs clearer than day. Hyunjin was looking straight back at you, catching you slightly off guard, he always paid attention to your needs first. Always. You sighed, looking at the dig-site. ‘we already have this dig-site, that we worked hard to obtain, I dont think we can do this at the moment..’ you trail off, thinking about the possibility of new dinosaurs, the appealing offer both a sudden surprise, but seeming too good to be true. But no, you and your team invested in this dig-site, putting most of the money into this place because of the existence of raptors, something both yourself and Hyunjin were fascinated in, due to their immense ability to learn and communicate. ‘That’s no problem. We really want you on this island. What if we sponsored your dig-site here for the next five years?, just as an add on to the new dinosaurs.’ You turned back around, eyes wide in shock, five years? this man was bonkers. ‘can, can we discuss this quickly?’ you said, before dragging Hyunjin with you to the other boys, all huddling around and debating. ‘Hes absolutely nuts!’ ‘That’s what I thought!’ ‘But five years is a long time, we could finish up on this whole ridge..’ ‘You’re right, but how long will we be on the island for?’ ‘We will have to ask him.’ ‘It could be a risk..’ ‘Is it one we are willing to take?’ After you asked this, you looked into all of their eyes, looking around the circle, from Seungmin to Minho, then Jeongin, then Hyunjin, all of them were the same, eyes sparkling with interest. ‘I think it is’ Hyunjin responded, looking down at your lips before back at your eyes, making you blush internally, looking away quickly and smiling at Jeongin. ‘This could be a great experience for you, maybe we can find evidence of family travel and survival?’ you nudged him, making him giggle, everyone else smiling as they looked up, all equally excited. You turned back toward the man in white, his cane knocking against the floor every now and then, he was patient, maybe he was the real deal. ‘alright.’ you start, turning back to your team. ‘Lets do it.’ Jeongin jumped in the air and fist-bumped Hyunjin, before moving closer to you, whining as you ruffled his hair, loving how cute he was always. Your team was really like a little family. As you all walked back over to the man, and scared-looking business man, he smiled at you all, smiles upon your faces also as you all imagined the new possibilities. You wiped your dust and clay stained hands onto your pants, your mind racing with possibilities as you thought of the future, of your dig-site, and of the islands off of Costa-Rica. Hyunjin spoke up first, moving from beside you, to near the man. ‘May I ask your name, if we are going to be working with you?’ Hyunjin asked, his hand reaching out to shake the older mans own. “Hammond. John Hammond.’ -------- It was the day of travel, the original dig-site was covered up and protected, courtesy of Hammond himself, as he directed your team to his private jet, explaining the details of a new park that he wanted to create. The way he talked about this park, seemed like a dream come true, a perfect place for people to come and see dinosaurs, their fossilized forms on display, a whole island dedicated to the purpose of showcasing the dinosaurs found. Jeongin was bouncing in his seat as the plane took off, all of you chuckling at his eagerness to explore once you landed. Seungmin and Minho fell asleep, and you had snagged a spot beside your partner in crime, Hyunjin. Hyunjin was attractive, you couldn't deny that. However he was off-limits, he was your long-time work mate, and best friend for that matter. He wasn't just attractive visually, but personality wise, you were sure there’s nobody kinder than Hyunjin himself. After meeting in University, the two of you quickly paired up for any team assignment, earning maximum marks, and slowly earning the title of the golden pair, and although you call yourself a scientist, Hyunjin, refers to himself as the ‘Dino Master’, something you would never call him in a million years. ‘We are about to fly over the island, everyone’ Hammond’s voice was loud, but he seemed almost worried, as everyone turned to their respective window, Hyunjin having to lean over you to look out, which made you nearly suffocate at the close proximity. You turned to the mirror, seeing the luscious green vegetation, before there was a clearing. You saw some small dots of animals, before they got larger, until you saw- ‘oh my god..’ You were speechless, genuinely speechless. ‘when- when you said there’d be new dinosaurs..’ You stuttered, face pale as you turned to an equally shocked Hyunjin. ‘I wasn’t expecting for them to be alive!’ ---- I hope you enjoyed chapter one-!!! Its finally here!!!! IM SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE WITH THIS-! As promised! Here is your Dino fact! The first dinosaur to be named was Megalosaurus! It was named in 1824, and basically just means ‘great lizard’! (megalo = great, saurus = lizard).

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

The Press Tour

New York City, the final stop.

Part I Part II

Warnings: Full smut ahead, but wow is it soft

After looking in the mirror one more time, I sent up a silent prayer to the god who hated me so much, just in case they wanted to make amends, for tonight to go off without a hitch.

This was it, the final stop: New York City.

I knew the boys were tired, but they had done so well, and there had been no more disasters like the one in Italy. In fact, they hadn’t made a single demand of me since that calamitous side trip.

Although, not everything about it was a disaster.

There was this thing now between Rami and me. It was something palpable that had been birthed after our shared bed in that dilapidated motel room. I found myself thinking about him all the time, and I knew he was thinking about me, too.

Our conversations had become more natural, more intimate, and we often found ourselves taking our meals together, whether it be in a little place out of the way in the city we were in or in one of our hotel rooms at some ungodly hour when humans weren’t meant to be doing anything other than sleeping, watching the local news on TV in a language neither of us knew.

And now, as I looked at myself in the mirror, instead of a face full of pure elation, I was haunted by eyes that were trying to suppress a niggling dread. The tour had done just what I’d hoped it would do; it made me a success, and I already had to hire two assistants to help me work on the next press tour bookings.

As of midnight tonight, the Bohemian Rhapsody press tour was officially done.

Tomorrow, Rami Malek, soon-to-be global film star, would be on his way to LA to seek a few days solace with his family after spending so long on the road.

And I would be flying to London by the week’s end to start a new press junket.

Normally, I spent the main events in the wings, dressed head to toe in black, trying my best not to be seen as I worked.

But tonight was a celebration, of the film and of the boys, and a personal celebration of my success. I had chosen a blue, deep v-neck dress that was definitely a stand-out piece. I let hair and makeup have a go at me, although I skipped the heavy red-carpet makeup in favor a more natural look.

I knew I looked lovely.

With one final smoothing of my gown, I grabbed my clutch and headed down to meet the team in the lobby.

As soon as the boys noticed me, I was greeted with a chorus of catcalls that made me roll my eyes and wave at them to stop it. I didn’t need that kind of attention when the Brian May and the Roger Taylor were laughing with their wives and friends a few feet away at the bar. It was surreal to even believe that I was breathing the same air as them.

Besides, all that mattered was the way Rami was looking at me, almost as if he were seeing me for the first time after a long separation, even though we had all sat up in the hotel lobby, late into the night drinking, laughing, and celebrating.

I did my rounds, making sure everything was on schedule, but I could feel his eyes on me and every time I looked in his direction, he was watching me.

After answering a few last-minute questions, I made my way over to the boys, and they began again with the low whistles and praises.

“That’s embarrassing,” I hissed. “I am—and have been—an attractive woman this entire press tour. Show a little skin and you can’t handle it!”

Rami smiled and once again, he stepped in to save a sinking ship.

“It’s not what you’re wearing. You’re glowing, Y/N. Pride? I mean look at this! You did it,” he said, his voice lowering and very obviously filled with pride for my work.

“Rami’s right,” Gwilym added. “We owe you a great big thank you—for getting the film this level of exposure and for keeping us sane along the way.”

“Mmm, sane is a pretty subjective term,” Joe said, drawing chuckles out of us before he looked at me and spoke a very genuine thank you.

I felt myself tear up, so I leaned in and gave Joe a quick hug before rushing off to get everyone properly queued for the red carpet.

* * * * *

Tucked away in a dark corner of the after party, I typed up an answer to an email that just couldn’t wait until the morning.

I sucked in a breath when Rami appeared at my elbow, offering me a glass of champagne.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, his beautiful eyes sparkling.

I took the champagne, grateful for his attentiveness.

“Wait—” he interrupted, his fingers brushing the back of my wrist before the glass reached my lips. “A toast?”

I smiled, nodding for him to continue.

“To us.”

“Alright,” I said slowly, my grin barely faltering as I echoed, “To us,” and raised my glass to my lips.

Our eyes never left one another’s as we drank that first sip of our toast, but our stolen moment was short lived as another throng of people spotted Rami and engaged him in conversation.

With a last, lingering glance, I slipped away.

* * * * *

It was almost 2 am when I slid my key into the lock of my door and cursed as it blinked red. I slid it again, and cursed again.

“Third time’s a charm,” rumbled a familiar, deep voice close enough to my ear to make my arms break out in goosebumps.

“Rami,” I whispered as my eyes slipped shut for a moment, my hand trembling as the card hovered just before the magnetic strip.

His lips pressed quickly against my bare shoulder.

“I know what’s at stake, Y/N. Fate brought us closer together once. Let it decide again. If it turns green, we spend the night together.”

I took a deep breath, shakily exhaling as I said, “You do it—I . . . I can’t.”

In one smooth motion, as if he already knew our fate, he plucked the keycard from my fingers and swiped it through the lock, both of us watching as it blinked green.

My head tried to whip in his direction, but he was already pushing me through the door as he leaned into the handle. As soon as the door clicked behind us, Rami pinned me against the wall and kissed me.

We had come so close that night in the motel and had I known that it would be anything, anything like this, I would’ve just done it—I would have kissed him and then let him fuck me and I would have taken Joe and Gwil’s tormenting with absolute glee.

Rami’s lips molded themselves over mine in that first brutal press that marked him as claiming me. He exhaled into the kiss then began moving his mouth, working mine open until he could slide his tongue between my lips. The feeling of his tongue swirling with mine sent a flood of arousal to my core and a rush of blood to my ears.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe so I pushed him back, just to look in his eyes.

His polychromatic eyes looked dark blue in the dim light of the lamp I had forgotten I had left on. They were alert, despite the exhaustion of the evening, and they flicked between mine, trying to read whether I wanted him to continue or to stop.

Before he could speak, I reached out and grasped his face in my hands, running my thumbs over the smooth skin of his cheeks before I let them fall to ghost over his jaw. His eyes slipped shut and his lips stayed parted as I slid my hands down his neck and to the shoulders of his grey and black-striped suit. I slipped my fingers underneath the jacket and grasped his shoulders, pushing the material down his arms.

He opened his eyes as he wriggled free, and this time, he encircled my waist and pulled me to his body. He stepped into the hug and squeezed me tight, and I thought again about how he had looked at me tonight.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran one hand through his hair, the side of my face pressed tightly against his as we both just stood there, inhaling the presence of the other, cementing this fantasy into a reality.

“Unzip me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rami made a noise, deep in his chest, and his fingers immediately went to the back of my dress.

I clung to him as he slid the zipper lower, his fingers very purposefully trailing along each newly exposed expanse of skin.

My dress hadn’t allowed for a bra so the first barrier he encountered was the top of my matching, lace panties.

I stepped out of his embrace and moved farther into the room, facing away from him as I raised one foot up to slip off one of my heels, then the other; I worked myself the rest of the way out of my dress, finally letting it pool at my bare feet.

I could feel his eyes on me as I listened to him open the clasp on his watch, the sound of it dropping onto the desk so alluring that it made me shiver. Next went his cufflinks, and then he kicked off his shoes, and I waited, only turning my head when I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Do you know how many times I’ve gone to sleep thinking about your beautiful back? The way your soft skin felt under my fingers? The way all that tension loosened as I worked over your muscles?

“Do you know how often I’ve thought about this freckle?” he asked, his lips kissing my shoulder blade. “Or this one right here?”

I shivered as he kissed near the middle of my back.

“Or how often I’ve imagined running my hands over the gorgeous curves of your waist . . . like this,” he breathed as he touched me, pulling a sigh of contentment from my throat.

“Rami. I—”

“Shhh . . . let me take care of you.”

His touch. His voice. His praise. It was all so much better than anything I had built up in my mind.

I turned to face him, and his eyes ran greedily over my body.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

I smiled at his words and moved forward, wanting him to at least match me in my state of undress.

I worked the buttons on the front of his shirt and pulled the tails from his pants before pushing the fabric off of his body, just like his jacket. I took a moment to run my hands over his olive skin, scratching lightly at his well-groomed chest hair.

I reached up and wrapped my hand around the side of his neck, pushing his chin up with my thumb. I kissed down his neck, before licking back up to his jaw and pressing a kiss near his ear.

“Such a pretty face,” I said, pulling a crooked grin from him as I stepped back, my hands already on his belt.

I worked his trousers open and off without ceremony, and as soon as he was free of everything but his grey boxer-briefs, he pulled our bodies together, our torsos connecting for the first time as he kissed me, deeply and purposefully.

He hoisted me up, tripping over our clothes, and he clumsily deposited me on the bed while he tumbled in painfully on top of me.

“When you replay tonight, leave that part on the editing room floor,” he said, both of us softly laughing.

“No,” I said, still smiling as I situated myself underneath of him. “That was almost as romantic as you untying my shit-covered shoelaces.”

Rami laughed again, his eyes crinkling in the corners and his teeth flashing; god, he was beautiful when he was happy.

“That made the final cut, huh--Ohhh,” Rami breathed out as I cut him off by rocking into his hard cock.

“Ohhh,” I echoed, smiling up at him before pulling him into another kiss.

Rami broke this kiss to begin working his way down my body, moving slowly to learn what I liked, and by the time his lips were kissing along the edge of my panties, I needed him desperately.

He worked my underwear off my legs and tossed them over his shoulder; he grasped my knees and slid his hands up, gently pushing apart my thighs, moaning when he saw that I was glistening.

“So wet,” he murmured, unable to tear his gaze away.

“I need you, Rami—we’ve waited long enough.”

He looked up at my words, then slid off the bed so he could take his underwear off. I barely had time to appreciate his cock before he was between my legs again, his tip sliding teasingly through my wetness.

“Uh, should we . . .”

“I’m good if you’re good—there’s no one else, Y/N,” he said with seriousness.

I nodded and pulled him onto me. He rotated a bit to the side to grasp his cock so he could slide into me, shallowly thrusting until he pushed all the way in and we both moaned.

“Feels better than I ever imagined,” he said before kissing me as he began to move.

“So much better,” I agreed, shifting my hips so he could thrust even deeper.

We built to a rhythm, Rami eventually shifting back onto his haunches so he could pull my body against his hips and thrust deep enough to make me feel lost to pleasure. I reached up to grasp the slats of the headboard and Rami leaned forward to run his hands over my breasts, pulling lightly on my nipples and making me gasp. He trailed his hands back down my body and at this angle, he was perfectly able to work my clit. He settled his hand on my mound and used his thumb to start applying pressure, asking me what I liked.

I directed him until I could no longer form any word other than “yes.”

His thrusts became erratic as he built up my pleasure, and he stilled as I came, watching me as I cried out, moaning, “Rami Rami Rami Rami.”

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he started to move again, and this time, he was moaning with every thrust at how tight and hot I was after my orgasm.

“Come, Rami. I wanna see your pretty face when you come,” I murmured, sitting up on my elbows as I met his thrusts, my own breath still coming in pants.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands anchoring my hips as he pistoned into me until he bit his lip and threw back his head as he came, looking just as beautiful as I had imagined he would.

I felt his cum splash inside of me, so hot and so much of it, and I shivered with pleasure as he lowered his head, an indentation on his lower lip where he had bitten down almost hard enough to draw blood.

Instead of pulling out, he settled on top of me, pushing himself still deeper inside. He held himself up, just enough not to hurt me but not so far as to have a gap between us. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest and I reached up to settle my fingers over his flushed skin.

“I can’t wait to wake up in the morning and do this again,” Rami said, sleep evident as his cock finally softened enough to slide out of me, both of us shifting our hips at the loss of contact.

“Should we, though? Maybe this is better as—”

“If you say that was a one-off, I will walk out of here, naked as the day I was born, bring the guys into this room, along with half of the rest of the tour managers, maybe even Bri and Rog if I run into them along the way, to explain to you what a dumbass idea that really is.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, sighing, “This is going to be so hard. You’re going to LA. I’m going to London—”

“We will figure it out,” Rami said, tucking his arms under me as he rolled onto his back and took me with him, pulling me on top of his body.

I chuckled and shivered at the cool air.

“Cold up there? If you agree to date me, I’ll let you pull up the covers.”

“Rami!” I said swatting at him as I tried to reach for the comforter.

“Nope. Date me.”

I laughed as he squeezed me, his face splitting into a grin as he knew I was trapped.

“Be serious!”

“I’ve never been more serious. You can’t tell me that wasn’t special—you literally cannot tell me that something hasn’t been working to push us together during this tour? How many mudslides could have possibly happened at that exact moment in that exact location at the exact time we all lost service for our cells? Hmm?”

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“I already couldn’t stop thinking about you before that trip—fuck, that’s why we went on the trip. Now, imagine how much I thought about us after sharing a bed with you?”

I didn’t know what else to say so I kissed him. I kissed him because he was right. I kissed him because I was half in love with him already. I kissed him because I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. And I kissed him because no matter what tomorrow brought, I wanted to know that he would be there for it.

“Is that a yes?” Rami said smiling, knowing damned well it was a yes.

“Yes,” I said with an exaggerated huff.

“Good because I’m freezing!” he said, finally releasing me so he could reach down to pull the covers over us.

I shook my head and settled on to my side, waiting for him to wrap his arm around me, just like he did in Italy.

Rami shifted closer, his lips pressing kisses into my back as his arm finally wound around my waist.

“Better not hog the covers this time,” Rami said, his voice husky with impending sleep.

I snuggled back into him, smiling as I fell asleep, no longer needing to rely only on the memory of Rami’s arms around me as we shared a bed.

Tags: @ramimedley @clumsybookworm18 @r-ahh-mi @aboutthatmelancholystorm @alottanothing @sherlollydramoine @txmel @diasimar @hah0106 @flipper-kisses@rami-malek-trash @ramisgirl512 @dancing-disco-deacy @just-a-queen-bee @eightiesriot @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r @breadnbutternips

#rami malek #Rami Malek x reader #female reader #very very small guest starring roles for #Joe Mazzello #Gwilym Lee #Rami Malek smut #fluffy smut #bed sharing au #bed sharing #bohemian rhapsody #borhap fic

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ablogcalledrevenge · 4 years

Text

Potential (A General Hux x Reader Insert Multi-Chapter Fic, Rated T)

Chapter Four

The sex did help, infrequent as it was sometimes. It was easier to talk once the clothes and pretenses had been removed and the both of you were more relaxed. It felt safer, in a way, to engage in pillow talk. It was easier to talk about everything, from your treasonous plot to the shipment of fruit that the ship received.

Because you and Hux still fought, still argued. True, you hadn’t had a fight like that first one. You were grateful for that. But you and your husband were both headstrong people with specific wants and ideas. Arguing about it made sense, but there was an underlying respect there that wasn’t present before. The fights never went on too long, or got too vicious. Usually, after getting your initial frustration out- sometimes through yelling and sometimes through sex- you were able to figure out a solution.

Hux was trying, and you could appreciate that. You did appreciate that. You understood his background, the way he had been raised. Sympathy you had in spades for him. So to have him take a breath before responding in cruel anger, or thank you for something you did, meant the world to you. There was a vulnerability he was starting to let show. Only visible in the darkness of your bedroom or the steam from the shower. It wasn’t a quick or perfect process but he was trying. In return, you were too.

You were trying to be less stubborn, less haughty. You’d been crafting these ideas and plans for so long but you had to be open to change and collaboration. That’s why you got married after all. You wanted someone to work with. You didn’t want to be alone. You’re surprised you didn’t realize it earlier, but neither does Hux. You’ve both been denied so much in different ways that perhaps this marriage was always going to happen. You’re not ashamed or embarrassed to admit how much you need him now, how much you want him. Thankfully, he echoes your sentiment and his genuine affection for you is visible in every space you share together.

You hear several beeps as you get dressed, memories from the night before dissipating in your head. You’re about to turn around from your bureau to see the cause of the noise when it reveals itself in the form of a fast wheeling mouse droid quickly zipping back into it’s charging post. Then, as if on cue, your Tooka bounds out from under the bed. You snatch her up before she attempts to attack the poor droid.

“Now Millie, we’ve talked about this. No hunting the droids. You have plenty of toys to chase after, leave Messy alone.” You scold, placing her on a tall carpeted ledge. Meowing once, she stretches languorously before curling up on her perch. Shaking your head, you playfully swat at her bushy orange and white tail before continuing your morning routine.

Your husband had asked you to accompany him on the bridge today. This was both to learn more about his job and the ship you lived on and to have you present for a council meeting later. It was a good idea, you concede as you put on your shoes. Shouldn’t a wife be interested in her husband’s work, especially when it surrounded their lives? Shouldn’t a wife of a high ranking general get to know her husband’s superiors? If you were also going to be analyzing each and every one of them for weaknesses, well, that was just between you and your husband.

Getting rid of an entire High Council is not an easy or quick task but you’ve always been patient. The Council has 7 members, all older Imperial officers, with no one waiting in the wings. It’s honestly very telling that these men consider themselves so powerful and irreplaceable that they have not provided someone to step into their roles should something happen. But their folly was your gain and you revel in the exploitation to come.

“Well Millie, what do you think?” You ask the kitten, twirling in a small circle. Though she does perk up at the mention of her name, she barely spares you a glance. Much like the person who gifted her to you, she is not very interested in fashion. Still, you think your outfit is appropriate today.

Your dress is surprisingly simple and modest. You want to be able to blend in behind your husband, something easily passed over and ignored. You don’t want your presence to keep the Council from holding their tongues. The gown is a plain blue-gray jaberwool with a silk lining and thin leather belt to almost pay homage to the specific silhouette of First Order uniforms. Perhaps the only thing that sets it apart from the bland clothing of officers was the neckline. Instead of fitting snugly around your neck, the collar pulled out over one shoulder and down past your clavicle in both an elegant and risque cut. If the open neck also happens to show off a lovely little purple bite mark your darling had left the night before, all the better.

The last thing you do before leaving your quarters is put on a pair of pearl and diamond drop earrings. You decide to forgo your tiara or circlet today, instead braiding your hair up and back in a raised dome. It reminds you a little of an Alderaanian style, long since passed. The earrings start off dark gray, the same color as your dress before fading slowly into pure white with each level, small sparkling diamonds separating each change. They exude your status while also being less noticeable than a crown, and satisfied with your appearance, you leave your quarters to find your husband.

The bridge is bustling and noisy when you enter, everyone doing their jobs to ensure the might of the First Order and keep things running smoothly. As you approach your husband, grimacing at something on his datapad like always, the click of your heels stands out among the sounds. He turns and sees you, a small and rare smile gracing his lips. Holding out your gloved hand, he grasps it lightly, bringing it to his lips for a respectful kiss. Then he surprises you by tugging you towards him and placing a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Hello my dear, looking lovely as ever.” He says as his officers scurry below you. His eyes roam up and down your form approvingly before zeroing in on the open neck and the mark displayed there. You give him a cheeky smile when his face pinks for a brief moment.

“I’m glad you think so darling. I wanted to match your officers in a way.” You explain, hands still clasped together in their respective leather gloves.

“You do in a remarkable way, and yet, I shouldn’t be shocked that you’ve managed to tweak it to your own extravagant nature.” He teases as he walks you over to a screen. It’s displaying all kinds of data and statistics. The Order is looking for a new base, wanting to introduce land troops and influence over various populations without having to fly down stormtroopers every time there’s trouble. Your husband had been going over various planets for days now, nixing some outright while spending hours comparing others.

“Any luck finding a base?” You ask, eyes flitting over the numbers. Hux shrugs and releases your hand to fiddle with the controls, pulling up the image of a forest planet.

“We’re still looking at a few contenders but right now Serenno seems to be the best option. The population is mostly humanoid and easily suppressible though they have had a bit of bad luck with their economy and may welcome us and the jobs we create. The soil there is nutrient rich and we could use the farmland as well as the various sources of energy the planet provides. It’s not official yet, but the terrain and atmo would be perfect for a stationary base and training facility.” He says, pulling up pictures of the bright forests and rolling fields. You didn’t particularly care about where the Order places a base, but you knew it was ultimately important to Hux.

As the day progresses, he takes you to the various departments of the Order, introducing you to all the team leaders and heads. Your husband seems particularly excited to visit the engineering department and it unlocks something in your chest to see him ask such specific questions and offer suggestions that work. There are so many strange sides to him, it’s enjoyable to have them appear.

It also is quite the boost to your ego, being shown around the ship like you are. Everyone knows who you are and what you represent and the amount of congratulations and gifts you receive during the day is touching. There was a part of you, in the early days of your marriage, that worried about whether or not the First Order would love you as much as it did Hux. You were under it’s banner your whole life, but you were also very unmilitary. So to have your husband’s subordinates welcome you so obviously and kindly, eased those worries almost instantly. Perhaps they saw in you a return to the glory and sophistication of the Empire or perhaps they just noticed the half smiles your darling graced you with or the lack of dark circles under his green eyes.

It’s quite a wonderful day, meeting everyone and learning how such an imposing ship was run. It was invigorating to see your husband in his element, commanding troops and issuing orders. No one could say that he wasn’t good at his job, that much was for certain. The admiration he gains from his officers on the bridge, and from you in private, is well deserved.

After a quiet lunch, which devolved rapidly from getting your stubborn husband to try your more palatable food to an indulgent makeout session against the wall, it was time for the meeting with the Council.

Adjusting your husband’s collar and smoothing back his hair, you enter the long meeting room following him as he sits in his appointed chair. The Council was not on board; were rarely on board, so instead of everyone sitting around the sleek paristeel table, they sat only on one side. General Hux, because of rank and respect, sits in the middle seat, while the rest of the majors and captains sit next to him. You choose to stand behind your darling, blending in with the walls and providing a figurative and literal hand against his back.

Just before the meeting starts, the doors swish open and Kylo Ren storms in, his dark cape fluttering behind him. Like you, he chooses to stand, but unlike you he stays in the corner almost fully disappearing into the darkness. He’s still so strange to you, so unpredictable. But, whether he wants to or not, he invites curiosity. You want to get to know him, learn more about him. Your husband speaks disparagingly of him, but you were sure there was more hidden under the surface. That was something to explore later, you thought, as the screens in front of you flicker to life.

The meeting starts with roll and the expected topics of conversation. It follows with circular arguing and tedium. You understand the reasoning behind group decision making and a forum of discussion, but when you take over, these will be the first things to go. Your husband will have advisors of course, but he will make the final choice and none but you shall question him. A movement catches your eye just then, Lord Ren crossing his arms, and you quickly try to clear your mind. How foolish of you to forget the Force user in the room, to forget who he reported to. The last thing you needed was an errant thought to ruin you. You clench your hands in your gloves and hope he’s focused on the more powerful men and women in the room.

The topic eventually and thankfully changes to where the Order base should be stationed. Various officers speak about their preferred planet, providing slides and information to explain their choice. Hux goes last and it is very clear after a few minutes that he has won the support of his fellow officers around the room. The Council will make the ultimate decision after speaking with the Supreme Leader, but it’s obvious your husband has done his research and is passionate about his choice. You beam with pride at his confident tone and crisp speech.

The Council weighs their decision, speaking of the pros and cons of each planet, with Hux’s suggestion of Serenno being the favored one. But then Allegiant General Pryde speaks up and you barely resist the urge to groan.

“I’m not convinced that Serenno would be the ideal place for a new training facility. It has many favorable qualities, but the other planets brought up do as well. Despite General Hux’s notes, I see no reason why we should pick it over any other. Fondor has our shipyards already in place and Subterrel has mining opportunities. Although if the Council is to truly give their opinions, I still say Exegol is an excellent choice for a new base.” He suggests, the flickering video giving him a blue tinge.

“While I don’t deny that Fondor or Subterrel would work fine, they already have their uses. Fondor is a shipyard, there’s limited space for courses and gyms and the constant machinery and flying around would mess with the cloaking devices and intelligence satellites. Subterrel is a mining planet, the terrain is too rocky and fragile in places to build permanent structures onto and the climate is too unpredictable. They could work, but Serenno is perfect in it’s simplicity. It has fields for farming and forests for shielding and training. The weather is temperate and there are no truly vicious species that would attack us. It is in the Outer Rim which provides an excellent spot in between various trade routes. It even has ties to Count Dooku, if you’re looking for something more spiritual and Separatist.” Hux explains, growing frustrated. It seems that Pryde is aware of his hold over your husband and enjoys exerting his power. His condescension practically leaks out of the video screen as the General continues to defend his ideas.

“And as for Exegol, that pathetic bastion of Sith energy, it is too unknown and unstable. The weather is almost always a downpour and would scramble any incoming or outcoming transmissions. While I hold little stock in the Force, you can not deny that the air is oppressive and dark there. There is something not right about that planet and I will not put my troops in danger out in the Unknown Regions! It has no trade routes, no resources, barely any lifeforms. With all due respect, Allegiant General, I don’t know why you continue to bring up that storm planet when everything points against it being even remotely useful. There is nothing there but old scraps of Star Destroyers and a failed Sith legacy!” Hux continues, getting more agitated. You step forward and place a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from leaping out of his chair. It calms him down a little, and he gathers his papers together as a way to center himself again. There is quiet in the room, everyone taken aback by your husband’s sudden ferocity and a few members of the council clear their throats in the awkward silence.

“All of you have provided excellent choices for the new base and I think I speak for the Council when I agree with General Hux about his choice. Serenno seems to have everything the First Order could need for a new permanent base and, once we receive confirmation from the Supreme Leader, construction and deployment can start right away. This concludes our meeting and the secretary droid will be sending you all the minutes shortly. You are dismissed.” The head of the council says, focusing the attention. He is a very old man, having started his career as a Lieutenant in the fledgling Empire and working his way up. It was time he retired, you thought offhandedly, watching him shakily raise a glass of water to his lips before signing off.

Other officers gather their things and exit, more screens turn off. The secretary droid makes a few beeps and exits as well; leaving only you, your husband, and Pryde’s image still in the room. Pryde is leaning back in his chair, eyes focusing intently on you. His gaze lingers on your neck and the bite mark and you can feel his stare as you swallow in trepidation.

“I’m surprised to see your wife here General, I was under the impression that she was not enlisted personnel.” He sneers. Hux bristles so minutely that it doesn’t show in his face but you can feel the insult under your palm.

“My job is one of my biggest concerns and I spend most of my time on the bridge. Any wife that I have would be remiss not to learn more about the things I consider important. Who am I to deny her the opportunity to learn about the Order?” He says casually, barely giving Pryde the courtesy of his attention.

“Although I will admit a lot of the conversation flew over my head. I have a lot to learn it seems.” You pipe up, smiling brightly at the image of Pryde. He smirks in response.

“As nice as it is to see you Lady Hux, let’s not make this a recurring appearance. I’ll speak with you shortly about the base plans, General.” With that, Pryde signs off and his image disappears. You let out an audible sigh of relief and sit down in a chair next to your husband.

“Stars I hate that man! I feel like he’s always looking at me, it makes my skin crawl.” You complain, taking off your gloves. Your darling chuckles and leans back in his chair as well.

“I can tell, he bothers me too. He was friends with my father growing up and I think it infuriates him that I’m General and my father is dead. Perhaps he’s mad he can’t shut me up the way he used to.” Hux muses, looking over at you softly, reaching out and taking your hand. He doesn’t have to say how Pryde used to silence him. The proof is in the faint scars on his back, the ones you have only seen a few times before, the ones you kiss in the hopes that your adoration will melt them away. If there was no other reason to get rid of Pryde and the Council, those scars would be enough.

“His obsession with Exegol is unusual and confusing. A Sith planet should not interest him so much, especially one that the Supreme Leader disregards.” Lord Ren says from his corner and you jump in your seat at the sound. Hux doesn’t react, used to the other man sulking around in strange places. You wonder if you should be afraid that he heard you speak against Pryde, but your husband hasn’t reacted much beyond a tightening of his jaw.

“Lord Ren, forgive me! I didn’t realize you were still here.” You apologize as he approaches the both of you. From your seated position he looks even larger than normal, the black of his uniform subsuming the lights in the room like a black hole.

“Don’t fret my dear, Ren was the one hiding in the shadows like a Mynock. He should apologize to you.” Hux drawls, glaring at Lord Ren’s helmet. There is a stand off between the two men and the air in the room grows thicker and thicker until it finally dissipates with Lord Ren speaking.

“You should consider being more agreeable like your wife. For once I am on your side, I too think Serenno is a good choice. The other planets are unworthy and useless to your cause. The Supreme Leader has many plans I am not privy to but none of them should involve Exegol.” The modulated voice says.

Hux nods his head and raises his eyebrows in acquiesce. You’re sure your face matches his.

“You have my thanks Lord Ren. I’m glad we’re seeing eye to eye on this matter.” He says diplomatically. The leather of Kylo Ren’s gloves creaks ominously in the pause though he doesn’t seem furious. In fact, his hidden gaze lasers in on you and your husband’s held hands.

It is safe to say you are surprised by Lord Ren’s behavior and the mystery of who he is grows deeper. You long to see what’s under the helmet, imagining that it must be absolutely hideous and monstrous. That to look upon the Knight’s face must cause madness or combustion. It must be awful. He turns to you then and your eyes widen with the realization that he has been divining your thoughts.

“It’s worse.” Is all he says before exiting the room. You let out a breath and glance sideways at your husband and smile.

“Oh, I like him.”

Hux rolls his eyes and leads you out of the room to continue his shift.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later in your quarters, you and your husband are enjoying dinner. Your meal is a delicious baked fish with seasoned vegetables, the scent wafting pleasantly around your head. For once, Hux has gotten the same thing as you, his immature palate enjoying the lighter fare of fish and vegetables over some of the heartier things you had before. You had to go slow with it, otherwise he could make himself sick with the richer flavors.

Millie has finished her dinner and now sleeps happily on top of your feet under the table. Messy, your affectionately named mouse droid, hasn’t left their charging station but you hoped she wouldn’t terrorize the poor metal thing for much longer. It was hard to send messages when your droid wouldn’t even cross the living room floor. But she’s quiet and still now, her purring is soft background noise to the conversation you’re having with your husband, recounting the day's events and making plans for tomorrow.

It isn’t until dessert; various fresh fruits in an attractive display, that you bring up something more serious.

“I don’t know if we’re going to be able to do this quickly. Killing the Council members all at once will look suspicious and treasonous and it will be harder to stay anonymous.” You breathe out, forking a piece of melon. Hux nods but doesn’t look worried. You feel guilty for being apprehensive, but seeing all the men together and safe in their homes makes you anxious.

“I knew that this would take the longest and that it would have to be done slowly. As much as I want to just open fire on the whole stupid lot of them, we must remain as distant from their deaths as possible. But I don’t think we have to tick off each member one by one over the course of several years.” He says, before popping a dark purple berry in his mouth. His lips twitch at the tartness of the fruit and a spark of desire ignites inside you.

“The death of their fellow members might make a few of them retire for their safety, that would take care of a few. But I’m also worried that if we rapidly take down a chunk of them, the others will respond with heightened security. I’m not a trained hitman, I can’t go up against higher protective measures.” You stress, wiping your mouth and pushing your plate away. Hux looks confused and you’re not sure why.

“What do you mean you’re not a hitman? You’re going to be the one to kill them? Absolutely not! I won’t allow it, I won’t put you in danger. I thought we’d hire a Mandalorian or some upstart Trooper.” He snaps, brows coming together in anger. Carefully pulling your feet out from under your cat, you get up and go to your husband, kneeling on the floor next to his chair. It’s a supplicated position, but you knew how to appeal to his ego.

“Darling I have to. We can’t involve anyone else in our plans, it’s too risky. Someone who can be bought may not care about our reasons but they also will divulge them to the highest bidder. We need to be overseeing everything and what better way than to do it ourselves. While I wasn’t out training with guards, I have taken courses in self defense. I know how to protect myself.” You say, clutching at his sleeve. He looks down at you, forehead relaxing.

“I don’t want you to get caught or hurt, (Y/N), it’s dangerous. Let me do it, I would certainly have reasons to be in close proximity to them.”

“No darling please, I have to do it. You have to stay as far removed as possible. You can’t be linked at all. You just need to look innocent. You need to be perceived as taking the power they leave behind with resigned confidence. It will endear you to the masses to view you as someone not grasping for power, but instead stepping up to be a leader. Coups can work, but this is not the right one.” You plead as he brushes his fingers across your brows and against your lips.

“Don’t you think my being married to the murderer connects me?” He asks, his voice growing fond. You turn your head to kiss his fingertips and the flame of arousal grows within you.

“Only if I get caught.” You counter and he leans forward to kiss you. You get back to your feet and he follows you, lips never leaving each other as you blindly move towards the ice blue couch where you straddle him. It’s a pose that reminds you of your first real memory of him, all those months ago in your parent’s estate. He still grabs and grips your waist with intensity and his eyes still hold such a calculating appraisal when he opens them in between kisses.

Your hands come up to run through his hair as you curve towards each other, breaking up the gelled strands. Your sister had recently become engaged to a businessman, some kind of droid oil mogul, and having seen a picture of the man you can’t help but admire your own husband’s appearance. The warm lighting of your quarters and impassioned down time only benefit him, making him look less wan and pallid than before. While you haven’t discussed it yet, and you aren’t ready for them, you hope your future children will have his looks. You briefly imagine a little boy with red hair and your husband’s dimples, something you had only seen once in the whole time you were married, and the thought causes you to sigh in happiness. Hux relaxes deeper into the couch and you unhook the top of his uniform tunic, your fingers splaying wide on his cool skin. It warms quickly under your touch. He pulls away after a few more moments of this, work always coming first.

“It may not surprise you but many of the Council’s members are incredibly corrupt. Skimming off the top, abusing officers, one even owns pleasure slaves if the open secrets are to be believed. I think with the right kind of publicity, we could spin this. Pin the deaths on a team of justice seeking vigilantes intent on exposing the truth. At the end of all this, we can even ‘discover’ the culprits to be the Resistance and stage an attack without recourse. There’s no downside for us. The Council is gone and with it, we can criticize their behavior and come out looking more worthy of support and praise. We pin it on the Resistance and take out a few of them in justifiable revenge. If you can kill these disgusting, useless men, I can make the Order love you for it.” Hux says and you surge up in a quick kiss before breaking it to tell him some very exciting news.

“I was invited by Colonel Paru’s wife to spend a long weekend at their estate. I believe several other members of the High Council will be there. Shall I come back with their heads for you?” You whisper, your lips moving against his in an almost kiss. You share the same breath and every time your husband leans forward to take them, you pull back imperceptibly.

His hand travels up your side and over your breast to your open collar. His thumb pushes against the bruise he made only the night before and you gasp at the touch.

“Heads seem too messy and hard to display. I don’t need proof of your success, just you.” He says, catching you off guard with tenderness and capturing your lips with his own. He tastes like victory.

Chapter Five Coming Soon....

Tagging: @babbushka, @livy1391, @renaissance-mama, @girl-next-door-writes, @peqchynero, @the-temple-pythoness, @cupofmoonlighttea, @sincerely-cronch, @brujademente, @potato-ren, @ah-callie, @rosirinoa, @niniita-ah, @lwtficrecs, @theold-ultraviolence and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

#potential #my writing #self insert fanfiction #general hux x reader #general hux imagines #reader insert fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #general hux #i know i said not to expect it but here it is #also i have a pinterest with the fashion of the fic #if anyone is interested #fanfiction

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bloody-britt26 · 4 years

Text

Britt's shiny team headcanons!

So... nobody asked for this, but I wanted to do it anyway since I'm happy to have completed my first shiny team for Sword and Shield.

Since I love my virtual monsters a lot, I wanted to give them some personalities and share them with you.

My team includes some pokémon that I've hatched in SwSh and shinies from previous games.

I'm currently working on making a shiny team for everyone of my favourite types, so a shiny fairy team, a shiny dragon team and a shiny poison team.

Anyways... meet my sparkly squad!

♡ Lucian

• You're never sure whether you want to pet him or punch him.

• Lucian has attitude, and he's not afraid to use it.

• He's the kind of pokémon who enjoys the company of a very small elite group of individuals, and the rest of the world is absolute garbage to him.

• On one hand, he can be extremely loyal to those he loves and will fight with all of his pretty boy might.

• On the other hand, if he finds someone to be unworthy of his time, he can be downright aggressive and rude to them.

• His facial expressions don't lie. If he finds someone disgusting, it'll show. A lot.

• Britt had a hard time fitting him in a team. She had to figure out a group of pokémon where Lucian tolerated at least 50% of them, all the while making sure that the selected group could handle him and his marvellous attitude.

• Lucian is kind of a player.

• He loves hanging out with female pokémon and is very smooth with them, but he doesn't care for hanging with the male pokémon.

• He steers clear of Red Death as Lucian has had to deal with a few Waterfalls to the face for being an annoyance.

• He doesn't mind Snuggles as the little ball of fluff is very oblivious to his surroundings.

• Lucian is mostly seen hanging out with Nully. Since Nully is genderless, Lucian doesn't see them as a potential mate or rival.

• Although, whether they're friends or not is up for debate.

• Even when he was a small Eevee, he had a superiority complex, but that doubled when he evolved into a Sylveon.

• He's, thankfully, very supportive of his trainer and will always try to hang on even in the toughest of fights. He's constantly shaking off statuses and damage as to not worry Britt.

• He loves having Britt's attention and will demand head pats at all times.

• He's difficult to get through, but with a bit of patience, he's a good boy once you know the proper approach to his odd personality.

• The rest of the team respects him, but they know how to (and will) deal with his shit when things get too hectic.

♡ Shortcake

• Big girl, gentle girl.

• She looks threatening, but she's the softest dragon you'll ever meet.

• She's very shy and has a hard time mingling with other groups of pokémon, always being on the sidelines and watching others play.

• She wants to play too, but she's so timid, so she mostly stays by pokémon she knows or Britt.

• She likes playing with smaller pokémon better because she finds larger pokémon to be frightening.

• The exception is Red Death. He's big, but Shortcake seems to like him because he's pretty calm for a Gyarados.

• She plays ball with Snuggles the Wooloo quite often. Sometimes, Snuggles is the ball.

• Unlike most dragons, Shortcake loves sweet fruity dishes over spicy meat dishes.

• Very good girl. Will lay her head in Britt's lap to nap.

• Pat that head. She loves pats.

• She lacks elegance and is very clumsy. She trips over her own feet quite often.

• She's self-conscious, so please tell her she's adorable. We need to boost that confidence.

• She's very powerful in battle, packing moves like Outrage, Swords Dance, Earthquake and Poison Jab, but she's usually the last resort pokémon. She's aware of her strength, and she doesn't want to harm others.

• When she was an Axew, she had the habit of hiding behind Britt whenever strangers approached. She's a bit too big to do that anymore, but she still does it, even if you can plainly see the huge Haxorous behind Britt.

• It's cute, really.

♡ Nully

• Nully is very wary of others and still has a hard time trusting others.

• Unless another pokémon of the team comes up to them, they don't really talk to other pokémon.

• It's not because they don't like the others! They just prefer to keep to themself. They really do respect every other pokémon on the team and will absolutely defend them with their life.

• All other pokémon of the team treat them with respect and they have become the team leader, which is a title that Nully is rather fond of.

• Nully actually likes having a cutesy nickname over having a threatening name as they want to be seen as more than just a freaky fighting machine.

• They mainly run the Poison Disk. They know how much Britt loves Poison-types, and they wanted to make her happy. They ended up really liking the Poison Disk, however, due to how many resistances they have because of it.

• When Britt is running with her shiny team, Nully likes to stay out of their Poké Ball. They always want to be by her side and make sure that she is safe.

• Nully is extremely close to Britt. After all, she saved them and gave them a better life. They have a lot of respect, love and admiration for what she did for them.

• As a Type: Null, they were very difficult. They were always cowering in a corner in a very defensive posture and wouldn't hesitate to attack if Britt got to close.

• It took a lot of patience and empathy to reach out to them, but Nully is glad that she did.

• Nully genuinely gets upset when other trainers call them a freak. It's not their fault that they were created that way.

• It's okay. Britt will fistfight anyone who insults her baby.

• Britt doesn't want to play favourites, buuuuuut... Nully ♡

♡ Dumpling

• Dumpling is more elegant than you will ever be. Deal with it.

• Seriously, she never misses a beat in whatever she's doing. She's the complete opposite of her trainer where she's absolutely not clumsy and Britt is, well... Britt.

• She acts like she's too sophisticated to battle, but no one is fooled by that. Everyone knows that she enjoys a good ass-whoopin'.

• Dumpling enjoys high-quality food and is a very picky eater. She won't accept anything lower than a Copperajah Class dish.

• Dumpling has good taste in fashion and has a very strong opinion on Britt's fashion choices. She's often out of her Poké Ball whenever Britt is shopping for some help on choosing an outfit.

• Since Britt's fashion sense is... fairly lacking, Dumpling often blows a bit of snow/ice in her trainer's face to voice her disapproval whenever she judges that the chosen outfit is ugly and/or unfit for the occasion.

• However, Dumpling and Britt are very close and share a strong girl's bond. Their bond can rival the one that Britt and Nully have.

• After all, Britt raised Dumpling from an egg, so she's practically a mother to Dumpling.

• Speaking of which, she gets along very well with Nully. She's one of the few pokémon that Nully will voluntarily speak to.

• She's often seen perched on Britt's head or on Nully's back.

• When she was a baby Snom, she used to tuck herself in Britt's pockets, but she's obviously too big for that anymore. That's why she goes for Britt's head instead, which is fine as she weighs nothing.

• She's a night owl and will often wander about at night when everyone is sleeping.

• If Britt is travelling at night, she'll follow along outside of her Poké Ball to enjoy the nighttime with her trainer.

• She's very fond of music, especially soft piano tunes.

• It doesn't come as much of a surprise that she loves a good singing voice, her cry is very melodic.

• If she was human, she'd most likely sing like an angel.

♡ Red Death

• Don't let his name fool you, he's very calm and very difficult to annoy. It really takes a lot to phase him.

• Well, unless you're battling against him, of course.

• Unlike Britt's other Gyarados (Wrath), he's very obedient and easy to control.

• Red Death and Wrath do not get along. At all. Their personalities are much too different.

• Wrath sees Red Death as a rival that he needs to dethrone, while Red Death sees Wrath as a childish brute.

• He's much more mature and wiser than a good portion of Britt's pokémon.

• He's often meditating or practicing his Dragon Dances in a lake.

• 100% has a crush on Shortcake.

• He's extremely protective of the shy dragon. He's constantly staring at her or playing with her.

• They always look so happy to be in each other's company.

• They're probably secretly together.

• He doesn't hate Lucian, but RD's patience is always on thin ice when it comes to the arrogant Sylveon.

• He's usually the one to put Lucian back in his place. A few Waterfalls never hurt anyone, right?

• Right?

• Since Gyarados are notorious for being violent, people are usually very wary around him.

• He doesn't understand why. He's calm and clearly not displaying any form of anger, so what's the issue?

• He doesn't notice that his face is naturally contorted into an expression of pure fury.

• It's okay, those who are close to him know better.

• He's a good boy who will give you piggyback rides along bodies of water and genuinely enjoys playing in the water with his trainer.

• Sometimes, he'll use his tail to splash Britt, forgetting that he's 6.5 meters long and absolutely sends her flying across the water.

• It's all in good fun though. No offence taken or harm done.

♡ Snuggles

• The baby of the group.

• Everyone loves Snuggles.

• It's impossible to dislike Snuggles.

• It's illegal to dislike him.

• Even Lucian likes him.

• Snuggles is very oblivious to his surroundings and will bump into everything whenever he's rolling around.

• He only has one brain cell that pings around his head like a windows screen saver.

• He's cute, so it's forgivable.

• He's pure and untainted by the ugliness of the world. The team wants to keep him innocent.

• He has never shown interest in evolving, so he's an overpowered level 100 ball of fluffy destruction.

• He actually loves to battle and thinks that they are very fun!

• Britt loves to use him in battle to add salt to the stinging wound of defeat.

• Not many people can keep their pride intact after being yeeted to the next century by a dopey-looking Wooloo.

• Leon still has nightmares about Snuggles.

• Loves to cuddle his trainer at night to keep her warm.

• He really is the best blanket.

• He needs to be brushed at least twice a day. Gotta keep that wool nice and shiny!

• He wears a soothe bell around his neck outside of battle but has an eviolite during battles. Bulky and friendly ball of floof!

• Don't you dare insult him!

• It's not that you'll hurt his feelings, insults fly way over his head.

• But you'll personally offend an angry short stack of a trainer, a sea serpent, a dragon, a frozen moth, a man-made fighting machine and a pretty boy.

• Snuggles is loved. Very much.

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kazsbrecker · 3 years

Note

I want to know everything for both Rue and Julien, and I know it will take you awhile so I apologize in advance, but all the HP questions for my bbs!

Rue 1.What is their blood status (pureblood, muggleborn, etc)? What are their thoughts on the concept of blood status? Half-blood who doesn’t believe in the concept of blood status. Rue thinks blood doesn’t have anything to do with magic. If she had to say where she thinks magic comes from, she thinks its more of a power that is connected to the soul or to one’s will. 2. What is their wand wood and core? Vine wood, phoenix feather core, ten inches, slightly yielding. 3. Do they bring a pet to Hogwarts with them? No. Harry and Rue picked out Hedwig together (since one owl was all that Hagrid could afford as a gift). While Rue is fond of the owl, Hedwig is certainly Harry’s familiar. But Rue discovers her own familiar after a young Niffler sneaks into her bag after a fourth year Care of Magical Creatures lesson and refuses to leave Rue. She names him Professor Puck and he’s a little menace and she loves him. 4. What Hogwarts house were they sorted into? Why did the hat put them in that house over the others? Was it a quick sorting or a hatstall? Are they happy with their sorting? What Hogwarts house would they least fit into? Ravenclaw because of Rue’s deep curiosity and love for magic, her respect for intellect, and her desire to create/invent. She was nearly a hatstall because the Hat wanted to place her in Slytherin for her ambition, self-preservation, and resourcefulness; however she fought with it and convinced him Ravenclaw would suit her better. Rue was pleased to have won the debate and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Initially she wanted to be sorted in Gryffindor just so she could stay with Harry, but that’s the house that suits her least. 5. What subject is their favorite at Hogwarts? Which is their least favorite? Is their favorite the same as their best subject? Transfiguration is Rue’s favorite subject (partially because she deeply respects McGonagall and also because she is really gifted at it). Her least favorite was Astronomy first year because she wasn’t fond of heights. Even though she never takes Divination, she does not like it at all. She doesn’t believe in fate and despises the concept of prophecy. She adores magic and views it as a force of will and chooses to believe more in the individual and in choice over ‘fate.’ Rue’s best subjects are Transfiguration and Potions because she had to study them closely to become an Animagus. Charms is up there as well since Professor Flitwick adores Rue. 6. What electives do they chose in third year? Care of Magical Creatures (because Julien asks her to take it with him and she can’t say no to him) and Study of Ancient Runes because she thinks it’s a fascinating class (and Tom recommends it) 7. Do they earn more house points or do they lose more? Earn because Rue does very well in her classes (McGonagall and Flitwick in particular reward her with a lot of points in class). Rue doesn’t loose points because she is breaks the rules, she only does it when she knows she won’t be caught. 8. How do they do on their OWLs? On their NEWTs? Rue does extremely well on both OWLs and NEWTS, making mostly O’s and an E, rivaling Hermione for the top spot. 9. Thoughts on Quidditch? Do they play? And if so what position do they play? Honestly Rue does not understand anything about Quidditch. She does not know what makes it so popular and appealing, and would rather be petrified then ever get on a broom again after first year. So she doesn’t play, but she does try her best to support Harry, Julien, and Ginny in Quidditch. She’ll come to the games and cheer when ever Tracey tells her something good has happened. 10. What Wizarding treat (bertie botts, chocolate frogs, etc.) is their favorite? Sugar Quills. She has a bit of a sweet tooth because growing up Dudley would always steal any candy away from Rue. She eats Sugar Quills during Charms a lot, but Flitwick never gets onto her. 11. What is their Patronus? What happy memory do the use to conjure it? Rue doesn’t have a patronus. None of her memories are strong enough to conjure one. Even ‘happy’ moments like seeing her parents in the Mirror of Erised holds a reminder of what she has lost. 12-15 have been answered here! 16. If they trained as an Animagus what form would they take? Rue becomes an Animagus between third and fourth year. Her form is a red-tailed hawk! 17. What do they do/want to do after Hogwarts? Rue will become Hogwarts’ transfiguration teacher and will also do a lot of spell creation and potion research as well. 18. Which Unforgivable Curse would they be most likely to use? What would be the reason for it? If Rue had to use one, it would be the Cruciatus Curse, because she has a quick temper and a ruthless side, so she would be more likely to want to cause pain (only if she believes they deserve it). But in all honesty, Rue can be quite creative when it comes to spells and knows ways to cause pain or death outside of the Unforgivables. 19. Which Unforgivable Curse would they hate to have used on them the most? The Imperius Curse, no question. The idea of someone controlling her, imposing their will on her disturbs Rue deeply. Pain she can handle; death she doesn’t fear. But being controlled? Someone turning herself against her? She couldn’t bare it. 20. Which Deathly Hallow (wand, stone, or cloak) would they want? Why? Eh this is a spoiler, but actually, Rue ends up earning the loyalty of the Elder Wand. She didn’t know it and didn’t actively want it, but it is the Deathly Hallow that suits her best (I have a whole symbolism idea of the Deathly Hallows correlating with Rue, Harry, and Tom).

Julien 1.What is their blood status (pureblood, muggleborn, etc)? What are their thoughts on the concept of blood status? He is a pureblood and his family is part of the Sacred 28. While he grew up immersed in the culture of purebloods, he (and his family) doesn’t buy into blood status. 2. What is their wand wood and core? Redwood, dragon heartstring core, 12 and half inches, surprisingly swishy. 3. Do they bring a pet to Hogwarts with them? Yes. Julien has a pet lizard named Scamandar. 4. What Hogwarts house were they sorted into? Why did the hat put them in that house over the others? Was it a quick sorting or a hatstall? Are they happy with their sorting? What Hogwarts house would they least fit into? The Hat sorted Julien into Hufflepuff as soon as it was placed on his head. He is pleased with the sorting because his family has always had a strong affiliation with Hufflepuff. It was his father’s house and he’s always admired his dad. I would have to say Ravenclaw is the house that would least suit him. Julien isn’t really studious, analytical, or introspective. He is bold and daring (especially in Quidditch) like a Gryffindor but is also is and determined to reach his goals like a Slytherin. 5. What subject is their favorite at Hogwarts? Which is their least favorite? Is their favorite the same as their best subject? Flying Lessons first year because Julien has always been a natural talent at flying. Beyond that, Care of Magical Creatures because his favorite aunt is a magizoologist and it’s his best class since Julien actually studies for it and loves it. His least favorite is History of Magic because Binns puts him to sleep and also Potions because he just doesn’t vibe and Snape is a horrible teacher. 6. What electives do they chose in third year? Care of Magical Creatures (naturally) and Muggle Studies (because he is genuinely interested in learning more about the muggle world. While he’s shared a lot of pureblood customs with Rue, he has enjoyed learning more about what it was like to grow up among Muggles). 7. Do they earn more house points or do they lose more? Julien earns points for Hufflepuff in Quidditch, but then loses points because he loves all Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products and has been caught with them many times. Especially in fifth year. 8. How do they do on their OWLs? On their NEWTs? Julien does alright. He doesn’t study hard and seems to pass with luck more than anything else. E’s and A’s, but with a Dreadful in History of Magic. Only gets an A in Potions and Herbology because of Rue and Tracey. 9. Thoughts on Quidditch? Do they play? And if so what position do they play? Quidditch is Julien’s greatest love. He nearly rivals Oliver Wood in his level of obsession. He’s always been a talented flyer, but he also works very hard, practicing on the field nearly every day. He is a Keeper, and becoming the Hufflepuff Captain sixth year is his greatest accomplishment. He’s known since he was young that he would be a professional Quidditch player and he has never doubted it or strayed from that goal. 10. What Wizarding treat (bertie botts, chocolate frogs, etc.) is their favorite? Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, because he thinks it’s entertaining to make bets on what flavour someone will get. He’s unusually lucky and gets sweet flavors more often then not, but he thinks it’s more fun to eat the weirder ones. 11. What is their Patronus? What happy memory do the use to conjure it? A stallion, and he uses memories from his best Quidditch game and the general memory of the freedom and pure joy of flying on a broom. 12. What is their Boggart? What happens to it when they cast Riddikulus? Julien is afraid of Dragon Pox after watching his grandfather die from it. His boggart is himself with Dragon Pox and when he casts Riddikulus, the Boggart becomes a little dragon because he thinks actual dragons are awesome. 13. What does Amortentia smell like to them? Treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle, and cinnamon. 14. What spell is their favorite? Which do they use the most? His favorite spell is the knitting spell Mrs. Weasley teaches him. He uses Episkey the most because he hurts his fingers a lot during intense Quidditch practices. 15. If they needed it, what form would the Room of Requirement take for them? A cozy room with a bed so he can take a nap. 16. If they trained as an Animagus what form would they take? Julien would be a flying squirrel. 17. What do they do/want to do after Hogwarts? Julien succeeds in becoming a professional Quidditch player, becoming the youngest Keeper of the England National Teem. When he retires after a fantastic career, he becomes a popular Quidditch commentator. 18. Which Unforgivable Curse would they be most likely to use? What would be the reason for it? Julien is my precious boy, who would rather dodge, use shield charms, or stupefy. But if he had to he would use the Killing Curse because while it causes death, it is a painless death. He couldn’t bring himself to torture someone or Imperio them. 19. Which Unforgivable Curse would they hate to have used on them the most? The Cruciatus Curse. It’s not really the pain he fears, because he’s used to breaking bones in Quidditch. Really he’s scared of being driven insane by the torture. His father was once best friends with Frank Longbottom, so Julien grew up knowing what happened to them. He once went with his dad to visit Frank and Alice at St. Mungos and Julien has never forgotten it. 20. Which Deathly Hallow (wand, stone, or cloak) would they want? Why? After fourth year, Julien would ant the resurrection stone in order to summon Cedric’s spirit in order to say goodbye. Cedric was like a big brother figure to Julien and his death deeply hurts him.

#luucypevensie #rue asks #julien asks #rue potter #julien fawley #fic: memoria #phew that took a while but it was so much fun #thank you so much!#i love your enthusiasm for by hp babes

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fmdtaeyongarchive · 3 years

Text

↬ come back to me again.

date: october 2019 to september 2020.

location: unspecified.

word count: 1,810 words, not including lyrics.

summary: man briefly considers writing about self-love before throwing that shit idea out the window and deciding to write about his love life angst instead.

triggers n/a.

notes: creative claims verification. this took me an hour to write and it’s not edited and you can tell both of those things... it’s not my best... anyway, it’s my last verification for ash’s album and that’s all i care about! mentions of youngjoo.

the song takes him a year to write, though he has no expectation of such a long time frame when he begins.

the first notes of what will one day become a full song are put down the morning after he and youngjoo sleep together again for the first time since they’d broken up. he’s still trying to process what had happened, head spinning with a mix of doubt and affection. he’s fresh off of a break-up. he’s been single for two months after the most serious relationship of his life, and he’s fallen back into bed with his ex. not any ex, but the one he’d once thought would be his second to last lover. and the one he’d also once thought would be his last lover, but who was keeping count of his romantic delusions at this point?

when they’d had their talk that spring, ash had never considered it might end like this. they’d talked and cleared the air and he’d been happy they might be able to become friends again. genuinely, with no ulterior motives. after all, he’d been happy as only her friend once and, at the time, he hadn’t had eyes for anyone else but the man whose ring he wore on his finger or on a chain he tucked under the neckline of his shirt.

but being with her again. it had come so easily, so naturally, like their bodies and hearts had been made for one another.

that’s an awfully dangerous thought to have. it’s sex, not a reignition of their relationship, he reminds himself.

he doesn’t think he’s writing about youngjoo after she leaves that morning, but when he looks back on it, he recognizes it sounds like her. a year later, he isn’t so sure where his own identity ends and his feelings for her begin, though, so he could be wrong.

it’s the insistent but mellow melody of the guitar that later on reminds him of the piece he writes for her for her birthday, one of the happier nights they spend together. the happy nights pose an unexpected problem. he falls deeper when there’s no space between them for anything but shy smiles and fond words. the nights he blocks her out are easier, even when they send him into week-long spirals and drinking binges he hates himself for only because he doesn’t want the unseen eyes of nature to judge them as her fault.

that’s why he sees youngjoo in the song. at times, the piece he’d written pushes forward with unrestrained urgency, but at other points, it slows to a icy hesitance. in the softness, there’s also a coldness.

so maybe it’s not that it reminds him of her, but that it reminds him of them. they’re terribly complicated, and the track is more simple, but conflicted emotions tangle within its notes even without words present.

it’s closed-in, almost claustrophobic at times but at other times, he feels like he’s standing in the middle of a field listening to the work he’s created. isn’t that a lot like intimacy?

and when he thinks of intimacy, his mind races back to that night in october with youngjoo. there had been more breaths exchanged between them than words, but it’d been so loud.

relearning someone. that’s new, but ash has become a master in it over the past year. it hasn’t been a mission only of relearning each other’s bodies as it should have been. he’s re-mapped youngjoo’s heart and her mind (the parts she’ll show him — he’s silently accepted that there’s parts of her hidden in darkness his prying searchlights haven’t been able to reach yet, and that’s why he feels so lost in her presence at times).

there are also parts of it that eschew the wonder of her or the unmitigated confusion of them.

what is there left for those parts to be but him?

he decides those are the most hollow parts of the song. ash doesn’t know if he himself is hollow. as much as there are mornings he wakes up with nothing inside of him, there are times he works to find a balance only to end his day trying to fall asleep amid the flood of everything spilling out on the sheets around him.

working on the song on and off over the course of a year, it’s become a pet project. when nothing else is going right, he opens the song up and adds one thing or takes one thing away or changes something that he’s decided isn’t meant to be the way he’d originally put it, and then he moves on, content with the fact he’s done something.

it’d be easy for it to become crowded this way, but it’s instead one of the more threadbare instrumentals he has with a last saved date within the year. it’s almost more akin to the simple production he’d opted for in the beginning of his days as a solo artist. back then, he’d been an amateur producer and his ideas had often been tossed aside in favor of what bc’s more experienced producers decided would be best for the words and music he had been more entrusted with creating, but he hadn’t had any objections back then to a more naked production angle, either.

now he’s a fan of bold percussion (and there’s some of that in this song, too, as the track grows late into its own night and that’s also where the ghost of an emotional climax of words he hasn’t yet written lays) and layers of vocals on top of strings and samples on top of more vocals, but just listening to this homemade quilt of a track reminds ash of the boy he’d once been, long before that october a whole year ago.

it reminds ash of a boy who saw a future for himself as a poet on stage with a guitar, happy with no more than a small audience to hear songs that he’d created to support his lyrics instead of as a marketing package for selling others’ goods.

that ash had been inexperienced as a songwriter in comparison to the ash of today, but his love for what he wrote had been so unbelievably pure.

such purity is something that’s escaped ash ever since he’d had it stolen from him with fatalism, when one moment of success had turned bc entertainment’s greed up a hundred notches and money and marketing had won out over the charming singer-songwriter niche ash, taeyong, had once occupied.

love for music isn’t the name of the game of the idol industry and it’d only taken a year or two in the midst of it for ash to realize, but seven years into his career had been the first time he’d felt his own love slipping away from him.

it’d been losing grip on the only rope he had keeping him from falling all the way down to the bottom of the canyon under the cliff he’d fallen off of.

this song isn’t his lifeline. it’s an experiment. a recycling bin. but listening to it days before he’s supposed to turn his final demos in for his album, ash hangs every stray emotion on it he has left and makes a last minute decision that this song is a puzzle piece he needs if he wants an honest album.

putting lyrics to it poses a new problem entirely. there are too many memories tied to each ascending and descending note, and it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to bring all of the themes together without making a messy, overloaded concoction out of a piece that’s already been stitched together from discarded pieces of musical fabric.

ash searches his mind for the common thread between everything he’s placed on hooks around the song’s center and only one thing sticks out: longing for something that’s slipped away. one line imprints itself on his mind from that thought, and he scribbles it down in barely legible font on a notepad and then pulls off the sticky note to hang on the edge of the computer screen so there’s no way it can slip his mind.

come back to me again.

that’s the heart of the song. it’s where he’s been for the past year, in an endless battle to bring back to him the things he’d once had and had lost. passion, control, self-acceptance, stability, love. love. love for his music, for his life, for youngjoo. for himself.

he writes a rough draft of lyrics about each lost love he wants back, and they come to him with varying shades of ease and resistance. music is the easiest to write about, but the lyrics don’t fit the other songs he’s submitting, so he sets that draft aside and moves onto his next idea. writing about love of life is foreign for him, and it shows in the way he doesn’t feel that he even has the vocabulary to grasp the undefinable emotions that tie themselves around the concept like a cocoon meant to keep it safe in his head until it’s ready to fly out into the world.

he gives up on that one early, only to move on to the concept of self-love, which gets abandoned even faster. he’s getting a headache at this point and his patience for the idea of writing a song about himself in such a way grows so short that he tears up the paper half a verse into trying to write it.

that leaves him with youngjoo.

he’s written so many songs about her already. thinking about another makes him shift in his seat nervously. each song with youngjoo woven into it that makes it onto his album is another admission of how deep he’s gotten into this mess with her, but writing comes so much easier when it’s about her than almost anything else.

it’d be fitting if that’s how it ends up, though. a song begun in what he’d thought to be a disconnected stroke of inspiration at the beginning of all this, turned into yet another self-lead pen and paper therapy session.

so he lets himself.

it bleeds into two scenes overlapping on top of each other. the soft oranges and yellows and reds of that night together last october and the five million shades of grey of the now. they shape a world existing both in the past and the present, a world confused by its own duality, and then eating its own tail, creating a triplicity with the blues of three years ago.

it doesn’t exist in one dimension, instead pushing itself to the limits of depth and time outside of ash’s conscious control. from verse to verse, the feelings switch time periods, and yet, when they all come together, they easily slide into one story — a never-ending tale he’s written himself into.

#fmdverification #i wrote 22993 words of verification for this album . i would not suggest that to anyone ever btw .#i really did not think i'd get these done in time yall... god.#you will not be hearing from me for a month now #&& when you're screaming but they only hear you whisper | self para

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renaroo · 4 years

Text

The Dark Half (2/20)

Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were created by Kevin Eastman & Peter Laird and are owned by Viacom. Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Psychological horror, Character death Rating: T Summary: For years Leonardo has vowed to protect his family, but how is one supposed to protect their family from something that no one can see? And how can you tell whether or not the worst danger to your family is yourself? [TMNT 2k3]

A/N: So back forever ago when I rewrote the first chapter of this fic I wanted to state it was kind of a side activity, for me, to rewrite story at all. Something to work with on the backburner because it’s already complete and available on my ffn account. But if it wasn’t obvious by the amount of time between updates, this is not a super high priority for me and, worse than that, rewriting something I did when I was 12, as it turns out, takes a LOT more effort and work than I initially thought it would. But good lord lol

Like most people, I have some unexpected time on my hands recently, so that gave me time for a new swing at chapter 2 and I had a decently good time working on it, so here it is in its glory.

[[Original Author’s Notes circa 2005] Turtlefreak121: Ah...the smell of a new story fresh out of the oven - gives me that calming sense of accomplishment...like a banana split on Christmas Eve. (crowd looks strangely at TF) Ahem...alright, maybe it's not that big of a deal, but this is my first 'pure' turtle story. Heh heh...nice to lay out the facts. I may sound a little jumpy - that's because I'm probably going to get mauled by an angry reader of Baby Bro for leaving them on such a sour note... (shrugs) What can ya do? Anyway, back to the present!Thanks to: coldsunshin, Scottenkainen, Lunar-ninja, jaunt, and kinguofdoragons.]

Chapter Two: Restless Night

When they made it home, Master Splinter was awake and waiting for them. In some ways, it felt infantilizing, but in other ways, the ways Leonardo usually chose to examine these things, there was a genuine comfort in their father’s persistent guidance.

Usually, anyway.

That night, Leonardo led the explanation of the night’s events with inserted commentary from his brothers which ran the usual gambit from helpful to utterly unhelpful. But the concern for the incident didn’t seem to go anywhere.

“It sounds as though you have done everything within your power to do what is good and correct, my sons,” Splinter had said. “You deserve to rest.”

And that is exactly the advice that everyone followed.

Leonardo had watched as his brothers and even his father packed up and moved to the bed. Everyone in the entire lair other than him.

He tried to follow their leads eventually. There was, after all, nothing from his nighttime routine left. His swords were cleaned and purified. His body was loosened with his warm down exercises. He drank water to hydrate, his alarm was set, his sheets were turned down.

But his aura, it seemed to him, was weakened and unsettled. Unfocused. Unnerved.

There was something more to the night than what had happened even in the playbacks of his mind. Something off and unnatural to the events which haunted him without making themselves so obvious as to be known.

He paced his room, he went through his sleeping routine a second time, and he made a point of checking the lair, just to settle his nerves with the reminded security of their home.

When his head hit his pillow, however, Leonardo was left starring at his brick ceiling once more.

Giving in to the sinking feeling in his stomach, Leo got up again and headed for the stairs.

There was only one person in the family he knew for certain would keep the curious and, quite frankly, embarrassing feelings Leonardo had quiet.

Each step Leonardo took seemed to stretch the walk to Master Splinter’s room even more. It was like trying to reach the light at the end of a never-ending tunnel.

He could always see the light and could almost reach out and touch it, but Leonardo could never quite get there.

After a few moments of dragging his feet, Leonardo stood in the rare silence of his home and put a hand to his head. He screwed his eyes closed and thought to himself, wondering, what exactly it was he was wanting to discuss with his father? What was it that he wanted to accomplish? What was keeping him up late at night?

Compared to so many strange and unusual things in their lives, this was nothing. This was completely useless. A waste of time.

He was upset by the death of two men who had meant less than nothing to him before. Whose lives were arguably not worth the thought, all things considering. At most, they would be footnotes in a territory grab between other fractions in the city.

That aspect was worrisome, especially when the city had been in an all-out war not terribly long before, but it was manageable. It wasn’t something that would affect Leonardo’s family directly soon.

But he was sickened all the same. He just couldn’t figure out why.

Leonardo wasn’t sure what to do when he heard rustling from Splinter’s room. Through the paper walls, he could see a light come on and be carried from one side to the next.

Mind racing, Leo tried to think of a concise explanation to his father why he was standing in the dark, staring at his door, but it was too late by the time Splinter opened his sliding door.

The old rat stood at the entrance of his room, holding a single candle as he looked through the darkness and at Leo directly.

Then, so very peculiarly, Splinter looked from left to right, checking the area. He swung his candle in each direction, never stopping directly on Leonardo again.

Leo couldn’t help himself, he blinked and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

When Splinter stopped his check and faced forward toward Leonardo again, his eyes did not focus on anything in particular. Let alone on Leo. More clearly than ever before, Leo could see that his father had been looking through him somehow before.

It was as if there was no Leo there. Only the darkness of the lair.

Uncertain of how to process the information, Leonardo shuffled back and away from Master Splinter. Away from the light, even if it had done nothing to reveal Leo yet.

When he worked up the energy to at last turn back toward his room, however, he was met with something different. Something frightfully dark, putrid. There was a muskiness to the air as shadows gave way to sharp and moving coiling darkness. The hall led not to bedrooms but onward to endless, caverns and consuming umbrae.

The world disappeared and in its place stood frightfully familiar forgotten passages.

“What is going on?” Leo asked out loud, voice returned in the nothingness.

He turned again, back toward Master Splinter and the home he had just seen with his own eyes, but it was eaten up by disturbing darkness as well.

Heart racing, Leo tried to square himself, ready for attack in the uncertainty.

In the confusion of the moment, he wasn’t sure where he needed to go but he knew movement was his only possible salvation. So he moved, he climbed, he ventured through gnawing and echoing blackness until he could no longer tell when his eyes were open or closed.

Leo had stared so long into the darkness that he felt truly blind.

“This is a dream,” he finally concluded, stopping his stride and taking a breath.

The realization was immediately soothing. He felt as though a great burden had been lifted from him. Dreaming — of course, it had to be dreaming. There was no logic to the fright, to the sights. He was lucid enough to catch the disturbing nature.

And, surely, if he was lucid enough to make the realization, he was more than enough awake to pull himself from a strange nightmare.

Standing still, Leonardo continued his breathing then closed his eyes tightly. As before, there was no difference between the darkness of his dream and the blackness hidden behind his own eyes.

It all changed the moment his eyes were reopened.

But not how Leonardo expected.

He looked at the alley before him. It was nighttime, but the light trickled down to him from the tops of the buildings and from the corner of the alley’s opening. There were bricks and mortar, even a trash bin near him. He could see a manhole cover and the fire escape positioned exactly where he knew they should have been for April’s building.

“What the,” he muttered, backing up and away until there was the soft click of his shell against a hard surface behind him.

Turning around, Leonardo could see the flutter of his mask’s tails fly past him. It was enough to urge him to look down to his person, see that he was fully dressed as if he was out for a patrol. He blinked, head throbbing, and reached with one hand for his aching temple.

His other hand found purchase just over his shoulder, gripping onto the familiar handle of his katana.

When he looked back to what his shell had hit earlier, he saw that it was the backdoor to Second Time Around. And, more than that, it was creaked open.

Considering how late it was, Leo knew it was wrong for the door to be open at all.

Deep within him, something stirred. Coiling angrily around his heart was heat and it wasn’t entirely unwanted.

If there was something wrong with April’s shop, that meant that there was trouble. And where there was trouble, well, dream or no, Leonardo had more than enough reason to unleash on it.

No more hesitation, Leo unsheathed his blades and kicked the door open with a swift, singular motion.

The heat around his chest moved and churned in him, hungry and ready for something Leonardo wasn’t ready to give voice.

He stepped onto the hardwood floors with ferocity in his spirit. It was wrong, everything that was happening was wrong, but Leonardo felt why exactly it was wrong was intangible.

The intangible feeling grew as the slithering, hissing claws of darkness began to warp the vision of April’s store again. The darkness chewed away at the scenery, the silence breaking into a ring of deafening noise.

He rushed in, the heat in his chest much more preferable to the terrifying unknowing he had felt from before.

It was anger, it was thrill, stepping into nauseating satisfaction of breaking and busting and hurting the familiar setting around him.

When he came across the junk on display, watching as it stuck out from the tendrils of blackness like a sore thumb, he smashed and broke it.

Glass clashed against his fists and dresses ripped jaggedly with the edges of his swords.

It felt good. It felt right.

When he came across the large glass central display, he mindlessly used the edge of his sword to scratch into the glass.

The sound of scraping glass momentarily disoriented him and Leo sat back on his haunches.

“Stop,” he said to himself. “Why are you doing this?”

But the darkness never stopped growing. A dream, it had to be.

And if it was a dream, then what was the harm? It was as simple as that.

“Who’s going to stop me?” his voice asked, his lips unmoving. “You?”

It was a ridiculous question to ask oneself. So ridiculous, especially, when it felt as though — when he knew — he had been the one to ask himself. He laughed at it, at the pure insanity of it all, and continued on with his mindless destruction.

And it did feel good. He watched things shatter and break — objects that were no doubt considered priceless to a former owner. He crushed an old collectible figurine then knocked over a dusty coat wrack. He brought a hanging bike down crashing onto the register and felt the glee of it.

“This is wrong,” Leo reminded himself. “If I was awake, it would be so, so wrong to do this.”

He paused and smirked as the shop began to come out of focus, like eyes blearily opening awake. “Yes, it’d be terrible to do this if I was awake.”

Even though Leo was watching himself in motion, he knew where his body was going almost immediately. Toward the back of the store, clear for all customers to see when they first entered, was the prized picture of April’s family hung for all to see. It was there as a testament to the store’s history. Even though it had been burned down and lost once before, it was still something old and handed down. Just like the store’s stock.

Family, history — it meant something.

“It’d be terrible if I was doing this. Wouldn’t it?” Leo asked himself.

He looked down at his forearm taking in the familiar sight of his own green flesh and the definition of his tense muscle. Leo sheathed one katana, then rested the flat side of the blade against his arm.

With a swift motion, Leo cut through the top layer of skin. He could feel the sensation for only an instant — the searing heat that had been fueling him since he entered leaving with a sickening, oozing sensation across his arm. Then he went numb and painfully, painfully cold.

Mesmerized, he watched the trickle of red escaping him, so bright and contrasting to his dark green skin.

Then his body, never seeming to give him time, moved again. He mashed his thumb into the painful wound, searing pain hissing through his body.

When his body strode over to the family portrait, Leo used that red soaked hand to begin pressing and pawing and destroying the image in front of him.

When that wasn’t enough, he began writing.

The longer it went, the less real it began to feel, and Leonardo felt his mind begin to teeter back away from the dark visage that had unfolded before him. The image clouded, the gnawing darkness that had been ever-present in the dream finally eating up the little light he could see.

A whisper followed him into the bleariness halfway between waking and sleeping.

An old voice, more ancient than any Leonardo had once known, whispered into his mind fervently. And together, I said to you once. And together, I say to you again. And together we shall rule the world. All you need, all I need, is for you to sleep. Sleep and I will let you have so much fun. It will be like living in a dream.

Leonardo didn’t wake with a start, didn’t jolt out of his bed.

He opened his eyes and stared into the quiet nothing of his room. It wasn’t the blackness of nothing he had been staring into like the void. It was his room, in the dark. A familiar and not altogether unwelcoming sight.

There was some sweat at his brow which he wiped at with one arm, flinching slightly at a sting he felt when he did so. But he didn’t do much else.

He laid in bed and tossed to his other side, vaguely uncomfortable. Despite having only just woke up, he was exhausted. So he closed his eyes and drifted off again.

***

With a turn of her keys, April unlocked the front door of the shop. She turned and faced Casey, pushing the door open so they could walk in together.

It had been a rare, quiet night for them, kept far away from the noise and nonsense that usually followed their unusual lives and, especially, their unusual adopted family. And she would have never had such a night to herself had it not been for Casey’s encouragement, if not full insistence that they do so.

“Thanks, Casey,” she said as she looked down at her shoes. Despite herself, she always managed to go slightly pigeon-toed in her nervousness, the points of her red heels nearly touching. “I mean it, for everything.” When she dared to look up, she found her date smiling back.

He always managed to put a smile on her face more easily than anyone else.

Fishing in her purse for her favored pocket, April began to deposit her keys securely.

Casey slicked back his hair again, in that nervous way he seemed to do. His smile dropped into unadulterated nervousness. “It was the dinner,” he concluded from nothing. “Man, I knew I shoulda made reservations at that stupid Chinese—“

“No, really, Casey,” April laughed. “I’m not being sarcastic. I really had a good time. I like Italian, and the movie was great. The park was great.”

Before April could walk much further into her shop, however, Casey’s large hands grabbed her shoulders and held her back. April felt herself be pulled flush to his chest and she was momentarily confused.

“Did you leave the backdoor open?” Casey asked in hushed tones, nodding to the other side of the shop.

“Of course not,” April whispered back. But, of course, the door to the alley was open, letting in the pale moonlight and illuminating reflective glass on the floor. “Oh, god, my shop.”

“Maybe it’s the guys,” Casey muttered, twisting himself around April and putting her between him and the known safe door they had come through. He groped around in the darkness until his hands found purchase on something hardwood and he pulled it up like a bat. “Just in case, though.”

“That’s an umbrella, Casey,” April informed him before securely walking over to the wall and pulling off an antique cavalry sword she had hung up only a few days prior.

“Hey, you’ve heard Master Splinter,” Casey shrugged. “Anything’s a weapon in the hands of a monster.”

“Master,” April corrected. She sighed and shook her head. “Okay, if there was an element of surprise we’ve lost it, I’m turning on the lights.”

She reached for the switch and flipped it, only to receive an ominous click. She frowned and attempted again — off then on — and received the same lightless response. “That’s funny,” April muttered. “The power must be out.”

“Or cut,” Casey offered.

When April turned to face Casey, she saw from the corner of her eye something darker than even the shadows of the store move. It nearly made her jump and, considering Casey did jump, he must have seen it as well.

The couple looked at each other curiously, but silent. They knew that the turtles had enemies, and it wasn’t unheard of for those enemies to attempt to make easy targets out of either April or Casey. It was best to stay calm, alert, and quiet until they had a better grasp of what was happening.

At least, that was April’s take on it.

“It’s totally Raph, he knew I was taking you out tonight,” Casey grunted. “Maybe Mikey, he’d totally break something.”

“Casey, hush,” April shushed him, going so far as to put her hands over his mouth for emphasis.

He muttered around her hands, childishly, but it was muffled enough that they both could hear an eerie dripping noise from the blackest shadows of the store.

“Okay, c’mon, guys,” Casey burst out, grabbing April’s wrists to pull her hands away from his mouth. He looked toward the darkened store. “This ain’t funny anymore!”

April looked to see that the light just outside the door was on and it clicked in her mind that the power wasn’t cut as Casey suspected. She then glanced at the large neon open sign in her window.

Pulling herself free from Casey, April stepped back over to the light switch and flipped it again. She didn’t flip for the indoor lights, however, just for the sign, which immediately shown with a brilliant glow, lighting up the shop behind it.

With more of the shop lit up, April and Casey could both see the ruin which had been left by the intruder. Hanging instruments were on the ground, a bike smashed through the main display, fabric slashed, glass cracked and strewn around.

It was enough to make April gasp, her lip quiver. She worked so hard on her store, worked with so much pride.

Casey was already on the move. He stepped over the left display window with cautious, slow steps. He was gripping the umbrella tightly as he felt around the darkness.

“On the right,” April directed him toward the display’s plugin.

“There’s something sticky over here,” he informed her. “The open sign’s not strong enough this far out, can’t see what it is.”

“If you plug in the display lamps, we’ll be able to get a clearer assessment,” April coaxed. She walked closer herself, daring to examine her destroyed retail. She held the cavalry sword in her hands. “Casey, we saw something move, we need to get the lights on—“

“Got it,” Casey said and, with a click, the display lamps began to light up, a good number of them flickering and buzzing from damage.

Once more of the store was lit, April put a hand over her mouth and held back a gasp.

The damage was worse than she had hoped, but that seemed like such a small thing compared to the true horrors of the scene. Everything, particularly the countertops, was bloody.

Casey got to his feet almost immediately and looked down at his hand to see the thick, dark blood on him. He looked back to April worriedly.

“Oh my god, what happened here?” April whispered in awe. A cold chill ran through her body as the words escaped her.

She was mesmerized and, yet, she also wasn’t sure she wanted to know, that she could have accepted whatever evils had taken hold of her store.

All the same, she looked to the aisles where their moving shadow had appeared and saw, to her relief, nothing. Perhaps her mind had been playing tricks on her. But, then again, Casey had acted like he saw it, too. Whatever it was.

Her mind raced with possible answers, but they all came back to the most likely scenario.

“Casey, we need to check on the guys,” she said, beginning to walk around the store and inspect the damage closer up. “This is a lot of blood. Maybe something happened tonight and they haven’t called us yet.”

“God, let’s hope not,” Casey muttered, wiping his blood-covered hand off on his pants before fishing a shell cell from his pocket. Long before he said a word, April could take a guess of who was first on his list to call. “Hey, Raph!”

There were some unkind sounding words thrown out on the other side of the phone, but April had wandered far enough through the store that she missed the specifics. She looked down and noticed a pool of the dark blood, like it had been settled for a while. And out from it were red splatters against the hardwood — the drips from before? But then how could the blood look so coagulated and darkened already?

Had she been seeing things or not?

“You mean you’re in bed right now?” Casey asked, putting the umbrella down on the counter. “How long? Did you guys get into something tonight? Come by the store?” He paused then, earnestly asked. “Okay but are all of you in bed?”

April followed the drips of blood, only nominally taking in the conversation between Casey and Raphael. As she did so, she found herself reaching the wall, where even more blood had pooled.

“Yeah, someone trashed the store, looks like someone got their butts handed to them.” Casey walked in a tight circle. “No, I mean someone got hurt it looks like. Wanted to make sure it was none of you.”

When April looked up the wall, her heartfelt as though it dropped out of her chest, plunging into her stomach with a cold splash. She covered her mouth with her free hand and let out a choked cry.

“April!?” Casey yelled in alarm, immediately rushing to her side.

Even at a distance, Raphael’s voice carried in a harsh, “What’s going on over there!?”

Turning her gaze from the wall to the counter, April couldn’t help the sting of tears that reached her eyes. Her family portrait, her store, everything defaced with some sickening message.

“Christ,” Casey muttered, coming up behind April and comfortingly putting his hand on her shoulder. “Raph, listen, I know it’s late, but you guys need to come here immediately.”

***

“Sure thing, we’ll be right there!” Raphael yelled back into his shell cell before hanging up.

As groggy as he had been when he first got the call from Casey, by the time it ended Raphael had been in full motion. He was put together and had his sai in holsters before he was out the door.

Outside of his room, two of his three brothers were already up and dressed to leave. Michelangelo and Donatello both had expressions that ranged from concerned to exhausted, but there was no doubt that they had overheard Raphael’s expressive conversation over the phone with Casey.

“What’s going on?” Don asked, tightening the tails of his mask.

“Something bad’s gone down at April’s store while they were out,” Raph growled, already making his way to the stairs. “Casey said we needed to head over immediately.”

“Yikes,” Mikey uttered, leaping athletically ahead of Raph like it was a competition.

Notably, though, Don hung back. “Hey,” Don called, drawing Raph and Mike’s attention back to him and the hallway. Don’s face was drawn down into a frown. “Where’s Leo?”

When they looked around, the air felt stilted and strange.

Leo wasn’t there. But his room was closer to Raphael’s than Don’s room was. Not to mention, their fearless leader was a notoriously light sleeper — arguably more difficult to sneak past than their constantly alert father.

“Weird, think he’s okay? He was kinda acting weird earlier,” Mike noted, tapping on his chin in thought. “Maybe he was coming down with something.”

“Hey, what part of immediately do you guys not get?” Raph asked, pushing past Mikey to continue down the stairs. “Let him get his beauty sleep for all I care.”

“Now, hold on,” Don argued, walking back down the hall and toward Leo’s door. “He’s going to want to be there if it’s something serious, Raph.”

“Again, for all I care,” Raph grumbled, but he had come to a complete stop already. He crossed his arms and theatrically tapped his foot in wait. “Just hurry, won’t ya?”

Don waved off Raphael’s comment before knocking on the door. “Hey, Leo? Leonardo! I’m coming in.”

Their brainy brother followed through and continued talking, his words more muddled with walls between them. If Raphael had initially cared more about the specifics of their conversation, he might have paid slightly more attention, but for the time being, he couldn’t have cared less.

“What do you think he was dreaming about?” Mikey asked, bouncing on his feet. “Had to be dreaming and snoozing pretty deeply to not overhear your racket, Raph.”

“I don’t care,” Raph huffed. “I just know I’m gonna leave both of them of they don’t hurry up.”

There was a lull in the conversation as whatever was happening in Leo’s room picked up. It was enough to make Raph and Mike glance at each other in mutual concern.

Don’s head popped back out and he looked frazzled. “Hey, guys, you go ahead, we’ll meet up with you at April’s. Won’t take us long.”

“What? Why?” Raph demanded.

“Thought you didn’t care,” Mike whistled, earning the punch to the shoulder Raph gave.

“Leo had some kind of accident or something. It’s not…” Don hesitated, then waved at them. “I’m just going to take care of it. Don’t want it to get infected or something.”

“Infected?” Mikey asked, face scrunched up.

“What the hell did he do exactly?” Raph snapped.

“We don’t know, just, get to April’s, they said it was immediate, right?” Don said, ducking back into Leo’s room and disappearing from sight.

Michelangelo crossed his arms and tilted his head. “This is the weirdest night we’ve had in a while, isn’t it?”

“God, don’t jinx us,” Raph grouched before grabbing onto the top of Mike’s shell and dragging him along. “Now, c’mon. If Don’s got whatever’s going on with fearless leader, more power to him. But I ain’t leaving April and Casey hanging when they ask for our help directly.

“Fair, I guess,” Mikey responded, though he wasn’t sounding particularly convinced. “Hey, did you hear Leo talking in his sleep earlier?”

Raph glanced back at him only momentarily as he unlocked the sewer gate. “No. I was happily asleep before Casey called. Why?”

Shrugging, Mikey attempted to seem calm and collected, but there was a hint of something unsettled in him. Uncertain. “It was just weird. Like it was definitely Leo but, I don’t know.”

“What’d he say?” Raph asked over the echo of their footsteps through the cold tunnel.

“He was just talking in the third person or something,” Mikey explained. “Never heard him do that before. Never heard him talk in his sleep before either.”

Giving it only a passing thought, Raph frowned. “Yeah, me neither,” he admitted. “Now shut up, we’ve got April and Casey to worry about.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Michelangelo attempted to joke, but his heart wasn’t in it.

The rest of their run was eerily silent.

#TMNT #Leonardo #Master Splinter #Turtlefreak121 #April O'Neil #Casey Jones #Raphael #Michelangelo #Donatello #turtle fic #TMNT: The Dark Half

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ovmatt-blog · 5 years

Quote

Chapter 6. Urai Knight and the Tale of Dragon Bracelets

When we returned from a walk, which we really needed to digest the ice-cream cake we had stuffed ourselves with, the conference room had merged into semidarkness. Tin-Tin had been fumbling for a switch on the wall for several seconds, all in vain, and then, more to explain his failure, he mouthed, “It’s strange but the wall has become coarse… And the switch has vanished...”

Our legs sunk in sand and we stumbled on cobblestones. We were still crowding near the entrance, not venturing to move across the room, when suddenly the room was illuminated. Everyone gasped with surprise and astonishment. The bright stars, shining through the rare pink clouds in a saturated orange sky, were illuminating the walls of the room, which were studded with sparkling rubies, sapphires and diamonds. What we took for sand turned out to be golden dust and coins, and the stuff we were stumbling on were plates and goblets, helmets and shields, swords and other armour, all made of gold.

Then a man separated from the wall and said in a subdued voice, “Please, take your seats, and we will start the class…”

There were two rows of desks in the room and, while everyone got seated, I took a good look at the new tutor. He was tall and thin and his black shirt and trousers matched his raven-black hair. He had distinctive features – his eyes were of a soft luminous amber colour, lighting up his face. I'd never seen anything like that before. But I also noted that his oval face with its sunken cheeks and hooked nose looked emaciated.

After everyone had taken their seats and the gasps of delight calmed down, he began. “My name is Urai Knight, I am the Manager of the Gevellin department and today we will start the Magic fundamentals course with you.”

“The Gevellin department works as a consultancy on the return of lost or stolen artefacts and removing curses from them. By the way, by artefacts we mean jewels or simple objects, endowed with the magic power.”

He looked up at the class, “It is better to study by example, so we will find examples right now.” He swept along the rows, “some of you may possess artefacts in the form of jewellery, which you wear as amulets…”

Vlad, sitting near Camilla at the first desk, cut in, “I wear a snake fangs necklace. Mum says it protects me from evil spirits...”

“I suppose it won’t protect you from anything.” Urai passed the second desk, skipping both the multitude of silver chains hanging down from Letisia’s neck and sparkling with bright gems, fixed at different distances from each other, like planets are fixed in their orbits, and Gui’s fingers, each adorned with precious stone rings.

Once Urai had turned his back on them, Gui leant over his desk, craning his neck to keep in view Urai’s departing figure, and hastily whispered to Camilla, “In September the whole office will go on retreat to Bodrum – ”

Vlad and Camilla spoke at the same time: Vlad asked, “Bodrum? Where is it?” Camilla asked, “The whole office?”

Letisia started giggling foolishly, while Gui tried to answer both of them simultaneously, “It’s located 200 miles to the west of Antalya. All employees, consultants and staff from the London office are invited, except –”

Letisia’s face acquired a more intelligent expression and she asked, “What is a retreat?”

Vlad, Camilla and Gui looked at her, amazed. Camilla waved her away, “A yearly outing. To unwind.”

Gui added, “The company takes employees all over the world to chill out, enjoy the scenery, and build genuine friendships outside the office.”

“Really?” Letisia looked positively shocked.

“Yeah,” Gui clearly savoured the details, “I’ve heard, last year it was a deep-sea fishing expedition. The last night, they all gathered for the final feast with an open bar. And people said there were such wild dances that night that the creatures of the sea, drawn by the music, leapt onshore and also began to dance. And by midnight the shore was thick with oysters clacking their shells like castanets, crabs spinning on their claws, and shrimp beating time with their tails. And all manner of fish were jumping and plunging about to the music.”

Letisia giggled again, “I suppose that soon tables were laden with oysters, shrimp and crabs!”

Camilla waved her off as a nagging fly and asked Gui, “And what will happen in Bodrum?”

“It’s even difficult to imagine! The east half of the town has a long beach. Behind the beach are all the bars, restaurants, and night clubs.”

“Typical of Mediterranean resort towns,” Vlad smacked his lips.

“In the west half of the town the life revolves around a Yacht Club with shops catering mainly to those who have stepped off their boats.”

“Oh, I remember, Bodrum Castle is located on a rock between two harbours that separates both sides,” Camilla remarked pensively, “so, you haven’t finished what you were saying – all the employees are invited, except whom?”

“Ah, all except us!”

“Us??” Camilla and Vlad exclaimed in a chorus.

“The Managers decided we can’t be distracted from our studies!”

“Wha —?”

Before this precise moment, I was silently straining my ears in order not to miss their conversation, but at their genuine indignation I giggled like Letisia, and as they all stared at me, I said in a subdued voice, “Hey, swelled turkey-cocks, somebody has forgotten to invite you to the biggest party of the year? You can start sobbing right now or wait until tonight to cry into your pillows?” Everybody sniggered heartily. I turned my head back – Urai seemed to still be busy examining the prettiest rose bud, carved out of the yellow opaque amber, dandling at the green chiffon ribbon at Guiselle’s breast.

“Bang!” a spitball struck me right in the forehead – Vlad was rubbing his hands, a malicious smile on his lips.

“That’s it, it’s war,” whispered Tin-Tin.

Gui squeaked, “I thought we could ask Jess to get invitations, at least for us. Her father is close to–”

But his words were buried under the waves of spitballs our two camps were exchanging. Then something cold and heavy hit me. Jess! She was pelting us with snowballs she had taken out of her sleeve. Soon we were sitting in a snowdrift. But we were spared dishonourable capitulation by Urai who passed Ernie and Melwin, sitting at the last desk, and turned to Tin-Tin and Max, sitting across the passage. Before Urai could notice the snowdrift and hills of spitballs, all this stuff melted in the air. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Nothing, nothing…,” Urai’s gaze finally rested on me. He pierced me with his burning amber eyes for approximately a minute, when suddenly he shifted his look… I followed his gaze, which rested on my neighbour’s neck, adorned with a fascinating necklace of black roses. “Black silver… No power, still fails slightly to be perfect…,” he snapped his fingers and – blue topaz roses alternated with the black ones. Urai conjured a hand mirror set in gold from the air and held it out to Diana, “It perfectly matches your eyes…”

Diana looked at her reflection and gasped with astonishment, but Urai had already turned away from her and approached the second desk, occupied by Leda and Leslie. The corner of his lips twitched. “Mmm, Leda Winegrain, I suppose. And this peculiar ring with two stones is your Mum’s gift, I guess,” he said, looking at the golden ring with two emeralds on her finger. “You are right,” a smile lit up Leda’s face. Leslie fidgeted in its blaze. For a second, Urai and Leda were staring into each other's eyes, then Urai said, “Well, I hope you will use it wisely,”

Not willing to observe the scene, I turned to my jolly neighbour, “Diana, where do you live?”

“My parents have bought me a two-bedroom apartment in London,” she answered in the most natural way.

Pressed down with envy, I gulped a lump in my throat and looked at Urai again. He stroked Leda’s tiny butterfly-shaped golden earrings with his greedy gaze and went ahead, to the first desk, occupied by Jessamine Gevellin and Laska Valentine. His glance fell at her simple iron ring. And then at once several things occurred. His pale face turned greyish and his eyes lit with a yellow flame. Black smoke whirled around the iron ring, making Jessamine squeal, “What you are doing, you…” Not having finished the sentence, aimed to indicate, who Urai in reality was, she dragged the ring from her finger and threw it onto the desk.

Though Urai was swift to put his hands behind his back, we saw that a simple golden ring on his finger started emitting white light in the form of a tiny disk of pure energy.

Then, simultaneously, the smoke and white light vanished. “The twin rings,” gasped Tin-Tin. “It is simply coincidence,” whispered Diana in reply.

Urai and Jessamine’s faces both twitched, hers – with rage, his – with hatred. A slight burn could be discerned on Urai’s finger, but still he showed no sign of pain. In an insinuating, catlike voice he asked Iceeye, pointing at the ring lying on the desk, “It looks like you are not in great need of this ring… So maybe I may take it for training purposes?”

Looking insulted, Jessamine answered with her most arrogant air, “Certainly, not. This is the property of the Gevellin family. My Mum gave it to me.”

“Avril Dayle,” Urai was more stating a fact, than asking a question.

“She is Avril Gevellin, Dayle is her maiden name,” Jessamine corrected him soberly. It was painful to look at Urai, so humiliated did he feel. “And my name is Jessamine Gevellin, but friends call me Jess…” she was calming down gradually, as the danger had gone and the smoke cleared away.

“I don’t care, what your name is,” Urai turned to her with a straight back.

“And will you care if I invite you to our manor for the celebration of my Dad’s purchase of an ancient golden locket?”

He froze for a moment, then paced further, having not replied.

“I’ve heard consultants call him Night Knight,” whispered Diana, following his back with her eyes.

“Whom?” wondered Tin-Tin.

“Urai,” Diana gave him a caustic look.

“And why?” Tin-Tin’s eyes became round.

“Maybe he is a sleepwalker?”

“Or adores working long hours?”

“Or hangs around in night clubs?”

“Or maybe he is so old that he fought in the Crusades?” Diana shrugged her shoulders.

Tin-Tin and I exchanged looks, clearly indicating this hypothesis was insane.

“And maybe, Diana,” Max yawned, “you just got stuck with him?” And immediately he snatched a silver helmet from the sandy floor and put it on so that Diana couldn’t hit him.

Meanwhile, with his gaze lingering on the faces of all those present, Urai said, “Well, it’s strange, but I hadn’t found any suitable artefact for training purposes among your ‘toys’… Then – ”

“And I have Dragon bracelets,” intervened Bastian, holding forth his arms with string-shaped golden bracelets, tinkling on his wrists, “Dad says it helps against Dragons.”

“Nothing helps against Dragons. But you got hold of the wrong end of the stick, having heard only bits and pieces of legends about the Dragons. Unverified information is evil in consultancy work. Okay, the topic is chosen, today’s class will be devoted to Dragons.”

With the wave of his hand he removed the back wall and … golden sand bordered green grass, and orange sky overflowed to dark blue one, bright stars twinkling in it.

“Come along,” said Urai and stepped on the grass. Everyone stood up and went to him. Standing on the velvety grass, I looked back – our precious chamber vanished and we were in open country.

“Where we are?” piped Bastian.

“This is the land of the Gwinedd Kingdom,” replied Urai, “If you don’t want to get cold, collect dry heather nearby…”

Soon the tongues of the fire licked the twigs with pieces of lamb, we were holding in our hands, sitting in the circle near the fire. Nobody could guess where Urai had got the food, and having ascertained that not one of us would starve, Urai started his tale.

The Tale of Dragon Bracelets

The incredible events that I want to tell you about, have been treated for a long time in the way, it was convenient for the interpreters to speculate on it. The story has been embroidered with new guesswork and then at last people could not tell the truth from the fable anymore and were lost in guesses, what has actually happened.

The time came for me to break my silence. I became an involuntary participant in these events and I want to tell you the true story as it unfolded before my eyes…

I was lying under the pellucid veil of dark-blue heaven. The sky was so low that it merely touched my face. It was a warm midsummer night with violet air so dense that it could be eaten, not breathed. The night was full of quiet rustling, sonorous chirr and rich singing. All day long I had been herding longhaired sheep on the grassy downs, scrambling my way along rocky paths. Now the sheep were sleeping in the steep meadow and I was lying in the grass carpet, the herbs tickling my face caressingly.

My fatigue and the torrid heat of the long summer day departed, subjecting me to the coolness and the slightest whiffs of the fresh night air. The long night and overall the whole life and the sheer Eternity were ahead of me. Such nights evoke reveries and call up dreams. And I was ready to fly away to the Fairyland of dreams on the wide velvet black wings of the Night, when suddenly a strange bright light appeared out of the corner of my eye.

The sky was clear that night, no cloud dared to obscure the newly-born crescent. Was it a shooting star? I raised slightly up, ready to make a wish and peered into the black vault of heaven – a blazing dot was rushing in the sky over the rocks, growing larger and brighter with every yard of its flight and soon its outlines loomed in the distance, taking the shape of a strange bird with an enormous wingspan that was ablaze.

But when it passed at great speed a hundred yards from me, its triangular outstretched wings cutting the air with a whistle, golden scales radiating heat and light and fire coiling in its fiery mouth, I clung fast to the grass, numb with fear, as the creature that I had supposed to be the firebird was none other than a great winged lizard aloft on the wind.

It went forth to the cold grey sea and, having reached the Сastle, set on the edge of the precipice overlooking the sea, vanished above it, having scattered into fiery sparks, which extinguished with hissing when they touched the ground at the end of their fiery flight. And then darkness fell again on the land of Gwynedd.

Scared and appalled by the sight of the lustrous monster, I recollected how often sheep disappeared from the herd in mysterious circumstances and all the tales and gossip about countless treasures of Llywelyn, the King, as it was he, who lived in the Castle with his wife and little son. People said that Llywelyn bathed in gold and his Treasury was a dome, hewn in the rock, piled high with gold and precious stones.

Then I could guess that the reason for his incalculable wealth was the Dragon, a loyal servant, who faithfully brought stolen gold to its master. I wondered what flagrant wickedness Llywelyn committed to repay the Dragon for his service? And had he ever repented? Full of dread, I rejoiced that I would never face the evil and wickedness in the Castle.

But this was not meant to be, as the Fates intervened in my life in the face of the Head of the Royal Guard, who showed up at the doorstep of my Father’s hut. “By order of the King! A hundred recruits will be conscripted to the Royal Guard today!”

I barely kissed my Mother and embraced my Father when I was kicked into the cart to join the other unfortunate wretches. We were taken away from our homes and dumped in the foreign Castle.

As we drove, we found plenty to talk about, and upon approaching the Castle, we gazed at its high walls with four towers, reaching high into the sky, facing the four corners of the Earth, and piercing the faintest clouds, sprinting to the West, with its points. The royal banners were waving freely in the breeze on their flagstaffs, reflecting themselves in the cool sparkling waters, running across the hill the Castle occupied, which was green as green could be the Eternal Spring.

Watchmen were looking out over the country through the narrow slits in the battlements, touched with the glorious light of the morning sun, to report the arrival of foreigners. Having noticed us, they shouted and cheered and pounded the stone floor of the Castle with their pikes to greet us.

Thus, my life in the Castle began. From dawn to dusk we were marched in rows across the cobbled courtyard to the sound of the voice of the Head of the Guards bellowing orders of the drill. We shot swift arrows at targets, fastened to hayricks, and leart how to fight with bright swords and sharp lances. But in my thoughts I was far away, wandering the grassy slopes of the mountains under the boundless sky, the bellies of clouds hanging right above me and listening to my slow talk to the sheep…

I sat at the cracked stone slabs, leaning my back against the cold stone wall. The night shift of the watchmen had just arrived to relive me, but there was no sleep in me and I stayed there, sitting near the brazier. I stretched my frozen fingers to the fire, warming myself.

“Bound here till midnight… Nasty business… I wish I slept in a soft bed now and was not stood here in the draught, chilly winds blowing through me…,” grumbled Joe into his beard, looking out through the slit, “pitch darkness… I guess, the Dragon himself would not make out the tip of its tail in such a murk.”

“Shut up, Joe,” snapped his lanky companion, “Do you want to bring us bad luck? We will all get into trouble if you invite the monster with your profane abuse.”

“And have you ever seen the Dragon near the Castle?” I threw out a feeler, not wishing to talk about my own experience, for fear of being labelled a blabbermouth.

The lanky guy, whose name was Snella, cast a gloomy glance at me and said in a hushed voice, “Look, Ordeah, let me choose the right words here – if you have any sense at all, you would not twaddle on about Dragons at every corner. Llywelyn takes it personally. The ancient legend says, some relationship (at the word “relationship” he lowered his voice to whisper) binds the royal family with the Dragons and that very long ago Llywelyn’s forefather did a favour to the Dragon and in return the Dragon promised to come to his or his heir’s aid should they ever find himself in mortal danger, either being overrun in a battle or starving to death. And in the end, the Dragon reassured him that as soon as he would be summoned, help would come and relief would be certain. Therefore, a golden-red Dragon is embroidered on the royal banners in silk – as he is the King’s patron.”

“And what favour did Llywelyn’s ancestor to the Dragon?” I inquired, casting a suspicious look at Snella.

“The old man didn’t bother to share this information with us, lad!” and they burst out laughing. When Snella recovered his breath he said, “These are only legends, lad! Do you really believe all these old wives' tales? The last thing we all need is a living Dragon! Bless us!”

I smiled at them, wondering deep down what on Earth was the King’s patron doing above the Castle, when I had seen him, as we were neither at war with anybody nor starving. A courtesy visit to enquire after Llywelyn’s health? Patrolling the territory to prevent armed attacks?

Busy with day-to-day duties, I soon began to forget my concerns about Dragons, as our service in the Guard was ordinary and routine.

Many times I got to see King Llywelyn. He was a stout red-haired man of medium height, thickset, with shoulders so broad that this was at once arresting the eyes of those, who faced him for the first time, and so strong that he could lift the bull into the air!

His wife, a fragile blond with enormous sky blue eyes, meek as those of a doe, was almost invisible in the Castle. But their son was a real imp, growing strong and courageous. Not once had we took him off from the turret where he perched himself as a cat and then dangled, uttering terrible cries that he would fall, and when brought to the ground, asking every one of us personally not to tell his father…

Once during my shift at the doors of the Prince’s bedchamber, I overheard his conversation with the King. I did not give any special attention to what I heard, but much later their words, having been reconsidered, shed light on many of the subsequent events.

“Papa, teach me how to …,” the excited voice of the boy broke and I didn’t catch the end of the phrase. “I am not sure you need this, Lerroy,” Llywelyn’s voice was coaxing, mild.

“But you cannot! You do not dare! You are not the only one! You can’t usurp the right…,” the prince’s voice rang with tears.

“You forget yourself, Prince! I will take the decision about your learning myself and you will obey it,” rose metallic notes in the King’s voice.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” whispered the boy. And the King left the chamber, without saying goodnight. When he passed me he clenched his fists so tight that his nails tore into his palms.

Still, the life in the Castle was peaceful and calm… until the night came that turned my life around…

I was keeping watch at the Treasury doors. The chimes struck twelve. Fighting drowsiness, I was peering into the darkness, edged with the dim ruddy light of solemn torches. Time hung heavy, endlessly. More than once I had been sinking into a doze, when at last a dull and subdued “Donn!” broke upon my ears, making me wake up with a start – the chimes struck “one”.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus on the setting, looking around attentively. Everything was quiet. Then suddenly a metallic “clank!” sounded from behind the Treasury doors!

Frightened that somebody must have stolen past me to the Treasury while I dozed, I bent and peeped into the keyhole … and then I became stupefied with terror and amazement… or maybe with amazement and terror. The red rock was towering in the cave, filling all the empty space with itself. With brilliant, shimmering gold colour, emitting golden glow… I could take a good look at the glossy jagged scales of an old acquaintance of mine – the Dragon!

The monstrous creature was bathing in the gold. Everything was blazing with unbearable heat, the gold was melting and the yellow-hot rivers of molten metal flowed along the golden hills. The Dragon tumbled on his back and started rolling on the gold like a foal, showing his pale undersides and inner thighs. Soon he was crusted with the scorching gold and precious stones as the gems glued to the molten substance. Turning right and left, the Dragon admired himself in the lake of molten gold underneath.

Then, he suddenly rolled over, helping himself up with his massive coiled tail, stood on all four legs, and his slanting golden eyes stared straight into my eyes. I was caught and before I dissolved in his oily gaze, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Dragon! Help! Dragon!”

In an instant glow went out and the Treasury was submerged into darkness. Still, I knew he was there, hiding in the dark, and, having drawn myself up, I went on screaming, “Help! Dragon! He’s robbing the Treasury!”

To my screams, a dozen guards came running from the corner, puffing and panting and jolting their pikes. I rushed to the Head of the Guards, waving my arms and pointing back at the Treasury door, and crying, “There… the Dragon… in the Treasury, open the door! Quick, or he will run away with the help of his magic!” Tor, taken aback and confused, tried to calm me, when Llywelyn himself appeared from around the corner, dressed in leather trousers and a white short sleeveless shirt, “What's going on here? Who has caused this clamour?”

“Ordeah said he has seen the Dragon in the Treasury…” mumbled Tor, evidently not believing in what he was saying. “In the Treasury?” returned Llywelyn in a strange voice.

Taking no heed of possible accusations of peeking, I gibbered in haste, “Aye, I heard some noise and peeped through the keyhole! There he was! An enormous Dragon! If we delay, he will flee!”

“We should check his words, my Lord,” intervened Tor. Possibly, he took pity on me. There was a short pause. And then Llywelyn took out from under his shirt a small silver key hanging on a silver chain.

Following his movement, I glanced at his arms, bare, as his short shirt lacked sleeves, and noted that he wore golden bracelets on his wrists. However, a closer look revealed that these were not bracelets but golden strings, ingrown into the skin on his wrists! In great amazement I was staring at golden curlicues, flourishing upwards from the golden rings on his wrists to the crease of his elbow, resembling some fantastic floral tattoo…

Meanwhile, he put the key into the keyhole and turned. The door opened noiselessly. A dry, hot, stale air oozed to the gallery from the darkness, having been loosed. With lit torches, Llywelyn and Tor entered the Treasury.

The Gold… Gold in ingots, gold in coins and rods. Diamonds lay scattered among golden dust. Strings of milky pearls, dawn-pink in hue, twined round the circles of ancient golden shields, their mottos obliterated by centuries. The spikes of the crown, wrought of gold, came out from the pile of sparkling rubies, crunching under my feet. I stooped down and pulled it out of the precious waste by its spike. Heavy and cold round my arm, it cooled my palm. The red lights of torches were dancing around, casting bloody stains on the laced golden rings. Dunes of gold, dotted with sapphires, flashing out with dark-blue light, led to infinity as the edges of the cave were lost in the gloom…

I gazed and could not have enough. No stories from eye-witnesses, no words at all could prepare my mind for such a sight. I had almost forgotten about the Dragon and still… he was missing!

And I was not the only one who had noticed this as Llywelyn turned to me and shouted “Guards! Seize him and dump him out of the Castle! I will not tolerate a liar in my House!”

While I stared in bewilderment at the King, they seized me and dragged me through the galleries, and the last thing I remember was the sight of Tor, taking the pike Llywelyn had leant against the wall, and yanking his hand away with a scream of pain – “It’s hot metal!” – and Llywelyn’s voice, growing fainter, as he withdrew, “It must have stood near the hearth…”

I was kicking and fighting to the end, which meant to the Castle gate, screaming, “I am not a liar! I am not a liar!” while I was taken forth. They kicked me off the drawbridge and the stars spun above me while I was snorting and spitting out the water, wallowing in the river…

It is a long time since then. I returned to my parents’ house and to my sheep. But at night, when I dreamt, it seemed to me that somebody was touching my shoulder with hot palms and I dreamt the Dragon, his fiery face having human traits, and I could not discern them, no matter how hard I tried. I woke up in a cold sweat from my own cries, shivering and miserable. And as night after night I awoke my elderly parents and my brothers and sisters, they forced me to relocate to an abandoned hut, hidden in a lonely glen leading to the sea.

There I spent my sleepless nights, sitting near the firelight and burning logs in the hearth. Muffling myself up in the blankets I met each dawn, pondering over and over the events that happened in the Castle... But then at last came the day that changed the course of my life…

Once before daybreak, a lookout, striking the great bell, summoned people to arms. In several minutes horns blew, echoing along the hills, sounding the charge. Assault! To arms! With blood rushing to my head, I grabbed my bow and arrows and ran out of the hut as I was, barefoot…

The water was boiling in the offing with multitude of drakkars. Dragon's head with bared sword-like fangs in their wide-opened jaws was protruding from the bow of each painted ship. The horizon was bloody with scarlet-coloured sails and banners. The Vikings! Hundreds of them! At the sound of drums, beating the stroke, they were pulling the oars wildly. Then the warriors from the Dragonships, closest to the coast, leapt to the shallow water and came on like a tide against a thousand Gwynedd defenders, already awaiting for them, condemned to death.

“That’ll be the deadly end of our mortal souls!” I whispered and ran into the rows of archers who were sending a shower of arrows at the Vikings, who still were knee-deep in water. That day took a deadly toll on the invaders. Soon dead bodies were floating on the sea, but the hurrying multitude continued flooding to the shore. They outnumbered us by ten to one, sowing deathly dread in our souls. The Vikings were setting battlefield to chaos, wielding their axes in their left hands and waving their swords with their right, hacking the foot who were slowly giving back. Then, with shrill battle cries, mounted warriors rushed forward to wage battle led by Llywelyn himself, half-risen in stirrup at a white stad. Soon Llywelyn and his bodyguards were forced into a tight ring, surrounded with furious foes. Riders were cutting the enemies heads with their swords, defending themselves on all sides. Llywelyn cried to the Vikings’ Cynig, “Ic þe offslea, Gutworm!” Attackers and defenders tied into a great knot. Tor was in the centre of that slaughterhouse. He was trying to shield Llywelyn with himself. We were losing the battle, defenders were growing scarce, while the Dragonships were constantly landing fresh reinforcements. Llywelyn then broke through the encirclement and galloped to the edge of the nearest wood, clearing the way for himself with his sword. His arm raised and dropped with the speed of lightning and the wake of slain foes followed on both sides of his path. The Gwynedd army gasped… And Tor, his face distorted with rage, sent the dagger to the back of the King, the betrayer, fleeing from the battlefield. But he missed and Llywelyn disappeared behind the trees.

And then gasped not the Gwineddites, who had lost any hope by that time, but the Vikings, as from behind the wood showed himself in all his might none other than … the Dragon!

Everyone froze in awe. In the shafts of the rising sun he appeared in shades from grey to bright scarlet to turn brilliant, dazzling gold. Flapping his golden wings, he soared, shielding the dawn, approaching the battlefield with great speed, and soon the black shadow of outstretched triangular wings covered us.

With vertical slits of its snake-like eyes he searched the shore where all actions were paralysed and hands, squeezing axes and bows and swords, came down. Flames sprang in his fiery jaws … and then without any warning he beat his great wings wildly and spouted terrific flames on the battlefield, withering everything and everyone with his breath of fire, with no distinction between Gwineddites and Vikings. Dreadful cries made a chill wind blow across my skin.

A hail of arrows pierced the air and bounced off the metal scales and fell to the ground. I was standing deaf in the turmoil of fighters, scattering and sweeping to the beach in a desperate effort to flee and save themselves, at the terrific explosions of the Dragon’s uproar.

Flap of the wings in the jets of fire… Circling in the air… Flap of the wings, baring the skin of membrane under the wing, connecting it to the armoured body… With rigid fingers I pulled the iron bolt out of the quiver… Flap of the wings… The string drawn back… I aimed… Wings going upward… the thud of my heart… Twang!

I lowered my bow and my head…

And then I stopped my ears with my palms, as with the heartrending shriek that followed, the trees bent in fright and the grass shrivelled and blackened.

You would ask me where I had taken the iron bolt from? I contrived the whole plan during those sleepless nights, when I had to think about something in order to escape fiery nightmares. One guy, whom I knew, was a smith. He didn’t ask questions…

The Dragon, lame in the left wing, flew low and heavy to the Castle. I watched his flight, unable to anticipate his moves. His behaviour seemed inexplicable. Where was he going to hide himself? But as if in reply to my thoughts, he reared up in the air with a stinging cri de cœur and fell on the northern Castle wall, smashing stone and crashing it to pieces.

Tor shouted at that Gwineddites that survived, “To the Castle! Save the Queen and the Prince!” and rushed up, spurring his horse… In a minute only his horse’s tail could be seen in the distance.

We burst into the central gallery, lit with the rising sun shafts, streaming freely through the broken wall. Llywelyn… There he lay, with his wide-opened eyes staring to the eternity and my iron bolt protruding from his left side, Tor kneeling near him…

My mind was deserted, no thoughts, no emotions. Dryly, Tor snapped, half-turning his head to us, standing at his back, “Take care of Queen Loreine and Prince Lerroy.”

One of the guards reported in an unconfident voice, “We have searched the whole Castle and have not discovered the least sign of the Queen and the Prince. They are missing, Sir!”

Tor whirled around, “What’s the rubbish you are ta… ” He cut himself halfway through his abuse, as something flashed in his eyes, “The Treasury! Check the Treasury!”

We did not need the tiny silver key, as the Treasury doors were swinging wide open, leading to the cave that was… absolutely deserted. The floor of dark smooth stone was pristine as if no speck of golden dust had ever touched it…

Everyone had gone long ago and I was still standing there, in the cave, pondering in the vicissitudes of fate, dignity and betrayal, triumph and defeat… When I was just about to leave, I caught the glimpse of some dot, glittering behind the door. I bent… it was a golden coin with a countenance of a slender red-coiled Dragon. Had Llywelyn taught his son to fly? I shut the door behind me.

The end

***

My eyes were heavy, I was obsessed with an overwhelming urge to yawn in the same way as everyone else. We were watching fading fires where potatoes were being baked in their jackets under the coals, their tantalizing smell soaring in the air and enveloping us with their smoke. Throughout the story, I had that vague feeling of something familiar that I was overlooking, that I had forgotten a long time ago and could not recall…

“When it comes to Dragons, the stories start to seem tricky and complicated. But the truth usually lies on the surface, the only thing you need is just to grasp it,” pensively noted Urai. Then he rose, “Now it’s time I sent you to your homes…”

I got scared that Urai wouldn’t know that I was going to the hostel together with the guys and would send me to my auntie and that I would again spend the whole night on the train to London. I wanted to tell him about it but I felt suddenly dizzy and all thoughts slipped from my mind…

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victimofthemusic · 7 years

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Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t)

So, I’m obsessed with the whole idea that Peter is Tony’s unofficial son and it’s only supported by Tony’s appearance in Spider-Man Homecoming, so I came up with this series, which is in the works and also posted on my AO3 account. If you like it or have any suggestions as to where I should take this, please don’t hesitate to let me know! Also, forgive any spelling errors or mistakes, I finished this at three in the morning one night and I was too lazy to go back and fix them. Enjoy!

Read Part 2 here

~~~~~~

Tony swore when he was twelve years old that he would never be a father. He remembered that moment clearly, like it had just happened a day ago, not well over thirty years ago. He was in his room, his father still screaming in a drunken rage at his mother over something Tony did, his anger and disappointment following Tony down the hallway of their New York penthouse apartment. He remembered sitting on the cold tile floor of his room, head rest against the heavy wooden door that was doing nothing to muffle his father’s harsh words.

His father was angry, Tony had gotten kicked out of his third private school on the East Coast, the letter expulsion still clutched in his father’s harsh grasp. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen his father this furious before and Tony knew that the only thing that saved him from taking a glass full of scotch to the face was his mother’s presence in the room. Maria Stark might’ve been docile about a lot of things, but Howard taking his rage out on Tony physically, that would never fly in this house hold.

Tears of anger and embarrassment welled in Tony’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to waste anymore energy on that man that he was forced to acknowledge as his father. No matter what Tony did, it was never enough to please Howard Stark. He made his first prototype of an arch reactor at the age of six, Howard wanted it by age five. Tony skipped three grades, Howard wanted him to skip four. Tony, despite his age, was offered a spot at MIT and if Howard had it his way? He would've been there a year ago. No matter how much Tony achieved, how many goals he surpassed, he always came up short in Howard’s eyes. Being the constant source of Howard’s disappointment and ire made Tony wonder if he would ever succeed in his father’s eyes, if his dad would ever clap him on the back and say “I’m proud of you, son.”

He wondered, some nights, when he’d lie awake in his too big bed in his too big room in his too big house, if his father had ever wanted children, had wanted Tony.

The thought crossed his mid countless of times, until it latched onto his cerebral cortex and sat there, like the worst form of cancer that had no possible cure.

And while Tony sat there, head resting tiredly against the warm wood, Howard’s voice still echoing down the long hallway, that cancer spread until it proved fatal.

He never wanted his children to feel like this.

Unwanted

Worthless

A complete and utter failure.

Tony was self-aware enough to know that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, that human nature was a pattern and patterns were destined to repeat themselves, without fail. Anger and rage and disappointment were the only form of affection Tony was used to getting to his father. His father was a cold man, always keeping Tony at a distance that no matter how hard he tried, Tony could never quite breach.

And Tony knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would always end up like his father.

~~~~~~~

Peter Parker came into his life unexpectedly and despite popular opinion, unplanned. He’d been keep tabs on the Spider-Kid since the kid popped up on his radar a few months ago, clad in that god awful homemade leotard/hoodie contraption and flying around Queens on his webs with all the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. Tony never planned to actually meet the kid behind the mask or reaching out to the flying kid in his homemade costume, but when the Avengers disbanded and the only family Tony had ever known was decreasing in numbers, he needed back up.

Looking back, his intentions were purely selfish and it shamed him to admit, when he dropped the kid back off in his sketchy neighborhood in Queens with the new suit he’d made him, he never had any intention of keeping in contact with the kid.

To absolve himself from the guilt, he appointed Happy as his chaperone and threw himself into creating new legs for Rhodey, another way to attempting to soothe ache of guilt that had settled along with the shrapnel, in his battered heart.

He underestimated Peter, who was pushy and persistent and finally, after three months, Happy threw his phone at Tony and told him to call the kid. That night, Tony, with a glass of scotch in hand, filtered through the hundreds of voicemails Peter had left Happy—anecdotes of his daily patrols, everything from helping old ladies cross the street, stopping bike thieves to getting cats out of trees. Each story was told with excruciating detail, in that excited ramble the kid got whenever he was particularly enthused about something and warmth settled around Tony’s heart, fond amusement making his lips curl into his first genuine smile in months.

It took Tony another week to reach out to the kid, but he did and that’s how he found himself, in one of his more flashier cars, sitting outside of Peter’s school. He ignored the gawking, the stunned stares and the whispers of the students filtering out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed on a familiar head of messy hair.

Peter was talking excitedly to the chubby, dark haired Asian kid by his side, who was nodding along to everything Peter said with a look of pure wonder on his face and Tony wondered briefly if his little friend knew that his BFF moonlighted as a super-hero in spandex at night.

Another kid appeared by Peter’s side and Tony watched as Peter visibly tensed and tried to skirt around the kid, but the kid threw a hand out and stopped Peter in his tracks.

The cocky grin that appeared on the kid’s face was all too familiar to Tony and before he could even second guess himself, he was out of his car and walking towards the three boys, ignoring the murmurs coming from the crowd.

“—when are you gonna stop lying about your internship with Tony Stark, Penis Parker? There’s no way someone like Tony Stark would ever take on a charity case like you—“

Peter looked up when he heard the murmuring crowd fall to a hush and his gaze landed on Tony. The amount of surprise in the kid’s features made Tony’s gut clench that in no way had to do with the greasy cheeseburger he ate on the way over here.

“M-Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammered, flicking his gaze back to would be bully in front of him.

“Yeah, Parker, like I’m gonna fall for that—“

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Tony interrupted, smirking in satisfaction when the kid that was giving Peter a hard time, froze, turning his disbelieving eyes on to Tony.

“Y-You-You’re Tony Stark.” He said faintly, his voice shaking.

Tony smirked, “Astute observation and you are?”

The kid gulped, his adams apple bobbing harshly, “F-Flash Thompson.”

“Makes sense,” Tony said with a nod of his head, looking the kid up and down, “I’d bully someone too, if my parents named me after the lamest superhero to ever grace the pages of a comic book, overcompensation and all that,” Tony said thoughtfully, “especially with your perceived fixation on the male genitalia. Tell me, did it take you a while to come up with something that juvenile or did you have someone equally as childish think it up for you? Because I would think someone with—and I’m assuming here, so correct me if my deductive reasoning skills are off—a high level of intelligence would come up with something a little bit more creative than ‘Penis Parker’.”

By the time Tony was done, the crowd around him was snickering and the kid in front of him looked like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, if such things were possible.

Tony smiled, but there was nothing nice about, “Now, if I ever catch wind of you so much as looking in Peter’s direction again and trust me, kid, I’ve got my ways, I have no issue siccing my AI on all your school records and wreaking havoc on your future plans for any Ivy League schools, you reading me kid?”

Flash nodded so vigorously he resembled a bobble head, “Y-Yes, Sir.”

Tony smiled, this one much more kind than the last, “Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding, now running along so I can talk to my intern here without your sorry excuse for cologne clouding my senses, seriously kid less is more.”

Flash tucked his proverbial tail between his legs and pushed through the crowd of people that were now openly laughing, losing interest in Tony in favor of chasing after Flash to mock him.

Tony shouldn't feel as proud as he did, but he knew what it was like to be bullied and he’d be damned if his kid—ahem, someone like Peter had to deal with someone as childish as Flash Thompson every day and it was within his power to do something about it. Like kid didn’t already have enough to deal with as it was.

He turned back to see a dumbfounded Peter and his equally as flabbergasted friend.

“That was—” Peter began, but seemed to be at a loss for words, shaking his head in disbelief.

His friend, however, didn’t seem to have that particular problem.

“—AWESOME!” His friend said excitedly, “oh man did you see Flash’s face? Dude, this is greatest thing to ever happen to me. Tony Stark just verbally assaulted Flash, Jesus dude, how is this your life? If you ever want to trade, even if it’s just for a day, I’m totally down—“

“Ned.” Peter muttered, elbowing him roughly, giving a rough jerk of his head in Tony’s direction. He flicked his apologetic gaze over to Tony, who simply rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Ned followed his gaze and flushed, “Right, sorry.”

Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tony could see the kid physically trying to fight off his embarrassment and couldn't help but chuckle.

Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sound and the surprise and confusion from earlier was back, “Mr. Stark, what are you doing here? At my school? Is everything okay? Is there a—“ Peter glanced around in a sad attempt at nonchalance and lowered his voice to an equally as sad attempt at a whisper, “—mission?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was making Tony wonder if the kid had a weird twitch he’d never noticed before.

Tony glanced over at Ned quickly, going back to his original curiosity of how much the kid actually knew about his arachnid friend here, but Ned seemed to catch on to Tony’s unasked question.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, sir, I’m Peter’s Guy In The Chair.” Ned answered helpfully, giving him a bright smile.

Tony glanced back over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, who simply muttered “dude” in an exasperated tone, shaking his head before returning his attention to Tony, “Ned knows.”

“Oh, well, in that case, no, there is no…mission,” Tony said in a mock whisper, making Peter flush, “I’m working on a new Iron Man suit and I need to pick your brain for some ideas on upgrades, figured I’d swing by and pick you up from school today.”

Peter’s eyes widened and Ned seemed torn between fainting or peeing himself from excitement.

“You get to touch the Iron Man suit?!” He squeaked, turning his wide-eyed gaze over to Peter, who only gave Ned a look, who bit his lip sheepishly, but looked like he was ready to explode from the level of his enthusiasm.

Peter ignored him, “I was supposed to help Ned finish the lego Death Star today, we were supposed to do it yesterday, but I uh, kinda got caught up on patrol.” Peter gave Tony a guilty shrug of his shoulders.

“So let me get this straight,” Tony said slowly, “you’re turning down quality time in my personal lab to build a lego Death Star with Ned over here?”

Peter’s eyes had lit up at the mentions of Tony’s lab, but with quick glance at a wide eyed Ned, who seemed to be stuck on the fact that Tony Stark said his name, his excitement dimmed. But Peter was loyal, almost to a fault, and nodded resolutely.

Tony, seemingly at a loss for words, just stood there, shellshocked at being told no, by a fifteen year old kid at that. A small part of Tony, the one that was actually looking forward to hanging out with the kid, was slightly hurt at the rejection.

Ned, who’d been watching the entire scene with wide eyes, was more observant than he looked and seemed to sense Peter’s indecision and Tony’s disappointment, because he gave his friend a bright smile, “Dude, we can finish the Death Star anytime and besides, my mom wanted me home tonight to help her with something, so I’m booked, raincheck?” He offered.

Peter glanced at Ned then at Tony and then back to Ned, “Um, sure Ned, no problem.”

Ned gave him a smile and then turning his attention back to Tony, his friendly smiled turned a bit more to the manic grin that most people wore in Tony’s presence, “It was really nice to meet you Mr. Stark.”

He offered Peter a fist bump, who returned it, before he started walking down the side walk, towards, what Tony assumed, was home.

Turning his attention back to the kid, he gave him a smile, “Good good, now we should probably be on our way if we want to avoid traffic. Now, as far as suit upgrades go, I was thinking of up-ing the suit’s repulsers a bit—hey, kid, you coming?” Tony asked from his position on the driver’s side, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was still standing on the side walk. Tony followed his gaze and saw Ned still making his way down the sidewalk and chancing a glance back at Peter, who was still watching him with big, guilty eyes, he sighed.

The things I do for you, kid, Tony thought to himself.

“Hey, Ned,” Tony shouted, making the kid pause and turn around, looking to Peter, who was watching Tony with the beginnings of a smile, then back to Tony curiously, “would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the lab for three people.”

Even from a few yards away, Tony could see the kid’s eyes widen in surprise before he hustled his way back to an equally excited Peter, who shot him a grateful look.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, giving him a bright smile.

And Tony couldn’t help but smile back, “You’re welcome, kiddo,” eyeing a panting Ned warily, “make sure he doesn't do anything…weird, okay? I don’t mind opening my lab to him but there was something in his eyes when I was talking about the Iron Man suit that made me decidedly uncomfortable.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, Ned’s cool.”

Ned, who had come to a slightly sweaty stop in from them, looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I try on the Iron Man helmet?”

“Dude.”

~~~~~~~~~

Tony spent the majority of their time in lab just watching Peter and Ned run around like kids in a candy store—picking things up, playing with the robots—DUM-E taking a special liking to Peter, who, Tony was pleased to see, treated him like a human, thanking him when he brought them water from the stocked fridge and smiling when DUM-E beeped happily in return—and played with all the gadgets laying around.

Tony, albeit wearily, let them try on one of the Iron Man helmets from one of his earlier models and explained to them how the suit worked, both of them hanging on to his every word. He showed them the blue prints for his newest model, listening to their suggestions and even writing a few them down to look into later.

Ned, Tony found out, was rather intelligent with computers. He gave him one of his old security systems and watched with genuine interest as the kid hacked into the the files with ease and recoded the entire system in a matter of minutes.

When Tony looked it over, he let out a grunt of an approval, “Nice work, kid.”

Ned all but fainted at Tony’s praise.

The hours slipped by and F.R.I.D.A.Y. being the helpful AI that she is, had ordered pizzas without Tony even having to ask and had them sent to the kitchen, alerting them when they had arrived. Tony led them up to the kitchen, watching with thinly veiled amusement as they both took in every new surrounding with the same amount of interest they had shown in the lab.

Tony continued to observe them as they tore into the pizza like they hadn't eaten in days and taking a quick glance at the clock, he realized with a flash of guilt, that they had been down in the lab for over four hours and the last time they had probably eaten something would've been well over seven or eight hours ago.

It was nice, Tony deiced, listening to their mindless chatter and what was especially nice, was seeing how at ease Peter was with his friend, looking like a true fifteen year old with his friend over to his house on a school night, like he didn’t have super powers, like he didn’t dress up in tight spandex and web his way through Queens and fight crime at night while trying to balance a normal life.

The thought nagged at Tony for the rest of dinner and as he rode silently with them in the backseat while Happy drove them all to Ned’s apartment first, who still looked like he couldn't believe today was real, thanking Tony breathlessly for the best day of his life and telling Peter he’d see him tomorrow at school.

Peter watched his friend with a small, amused smile and when they got to Peter’s apartment building, Tony glanced over at the kid, the smile still had yet to leave his face.

“Alright kid, this is your stop,” Tony said, making a move to undo his seatbelt, but the kid’s hesitant voice made him pause.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, clearing his throat, “I uh, just wanted to thank you, you know for well, everything,” the kid breathed, smiling up at him so sincerely that it made Tony’s chest ache in the best sort of way, “today was amazing and I really appreciate you inviting Ned along with us, he really looks up to you, you know? And I haven't really been able to spend much time with him since, y’know, the whole Spider-Man thing.”

The kid paused before continuing on in a softer voice, “And about Flash, I really, really don’t know how to thank you for that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “it’s kind of funny, in a way, I’m a sort of super-hero and I can’t even stand up to a bully—“

Tony’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the kid’s self-deprecation, “Look, kid, I’m no stranger to bullies,” he began, sighing heavily, “I had my fair share of them when I was in school and even in college. I learned that while you may no be able to physically fight someone, you can always fight them with words and sometimes, words can hurt more than your fists. All I did was give that Flash kid a taste of his own medicine and hopefully, got him off your case.”

Peter was silent for a moment, considering Tony’s words before giving him another appreciative smile, “I don’t think Flash will be messing with me anytime soon, but still, thank you,” Peter’s smile turned shy, “you’re the first adult, other than May, to stand up for me and I really appreciate it, so thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” Tony offered after a beat of silence, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

Whatever he was trying to say, the kid got, because he smiled brightly and Tony, suddenly feeling awkward at the unusual sentimental moment, busied himself with unbuckling his seatbelt, ignoring the warmth in his chest.

He reached around the kid to open the door for him and Peter, rather than getting out, just like last time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Tony, thinking he was hugging him

“This um, wasn't a hug,” Tony began awkwardly, “I’m just getting the door for you.”

However, before the kid could pull away, Tony wrapped his arms around him and gave him a quick, but firm squeeze.

Peter gave him another smile before wishing Tony and Happy a goodnight, getting out of the car and making his way up towards his apartment. Tony debated on his next move, mulling it over quickly and before the kid could get too far, he found himself making a snap decision and rolling down he window.

“Hey, Underoos,” Tony started, slightly unsure when the kid turned around and looked at Tony with hopeful eyes.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” He said after a moment of silence, the kid’s answering grin melting away any self doubt before it could begin.

“Sure Mr.Stark—Tony,” Peter stuttered excitedly, “sounds great!”

Tony watched the kid go with a satisfied smiled, so caught up in his happy little pseudo-family moment that he almost didn’t hear his phone ring.

Not even bothering to glance at the caller I.D., he answered it with a smooth, “Stark.”

“Tony?! What the hell we’re you thinking going to a school and threatening a minor, A MINOR—“

Shit.

~~~~~

Should I continue? Please let me know :)

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adreamingsongbird · 7 years

Note

can you write some fluff for me? i'm so sad today lol rip

hey uh wow same lol but i have this one wip thing that ill never finish from ages ago when a few friends and i were on discord talking about hp aus ft. durmstrang vik and mahoutokoro yuuri??? i hope it cheers you up

{ ao3 }

DurmstrangInstitute is, much like Viktor has repeatedly assured him, beautiful. The castle itself is larger thanMahoutokoro’s jade palace, though Yuuri personally thinks his own school has amore intricate and lovely design, but the grounds are stunning. He doesn’tentirely know where they are, precisely, but the mountains and lakes are sopristine, and oh, the green of the trees against the bright blue sky—

“Appreciating theview?” Viktor asks, drifting almost lazily on his broom with a matching lazy,content smile. Yuuri shifts close enoughto gently bump his shoulder.

“Yes,” he says,“but I wasn’t looking at you, if that’s what you meant.”

Viktorlaughs. “You wound me, dear,” he says,nudging back. “Except not really,because I love that look you get on your face when you’re enjoying yourself. Go on, keep looking around, I’ll keep quiet!”

Suddenlyself-conscious, Yuuri ducks his head as the wind picks up. “What look?” he asks, squinting against thebreeze. It’s cold against his face, and belatedly,he’s starting to realize that maybe an extra layer or five might have beenuseful before going flying up here, but… oh well. It’s too late to go back to Viktor’s room todig through his suitcase now, and a little cold never hurt anyone.

(Besides, it’llbe a great excuse for them to have tea together later, not that they reallyneed one.)

“The one whereyour eyes get all big and shiny and you get that one specific little smile!”Viktor says, leaning forward slightly. He takes one hand from his broom to reach over and touch Yuuri’s lips,just a brush of his gloved fingers, and yet somehow it sends shivers of awholly different kind tingling down his spine. “It’s adorable. Please, ignore myinterruption.”

Yuuri presseshis lips together and puffs out his cheeks, not sure what to say. “I’m not adorable.”

“Should I saycharming, lovable, delightful, or scrumptious instead?” Viktor asks. Yuuri leans to the side and dips into a lazyspiral, curving below and then above him to get a better view of the still,reflective pond they’re flying over. Hissilvery-golden robes (almost pure gold, except for his abysmal marks last yearafter—well. Now isn’t a good time todwell on that) billow out behind him like a cloud, and Viktor’s cape fluttersin the wind, too.

There he is,Viktor Nikiforov in all his pink-cheeked, blue-eyed, silver-haired glory, withthe guts to call Yuuri the charmingone. He shakes his head, scoffing.

“I can’tbelieve the man almost as beautiful as this landscape is calling me pretty!” he calls, swooping into asharp dive, sharp enough that he can nearly reach out and skim his fingersalong the water. The surface ripplesfrom the wind of his flight, distorting Viktor’s reflection as he dives after.

“Almost?”

Laughing, Yuurileans back and starts to climb again, almost but not quite vertical. The thrill of the fall settles in his chest,warm and exhilarating, and he can’t help the grin tugging at his cheeks. “That’s what I said! I’m sorry, Vitya, but these mountains are ina whole other league entirely!”

“You’re morebeautiful than all the mountains and lakes combined!” Viktor shoots back, hisvoice carried on the wind as he ascends too, zooming after Yuuri withease. “So it’s only natural that I’d becalling you pretty!”

“Oh, stopthat!” Yuuri complains, ducking his head again to try and hide his blush. “You big flatterer!”

“It’s notflattery if it’s truth,” Viktor says with a merry smile and a dainty shrug,coming to fly next to him again. Yuurinudges his broom closer, until they’re side-by-side and close enough to touch,their flight slow as they drift on gentle currents like a wide, sedate river.

“Then I have toamend my statement,” he says, reaching for one of Viktor’s gloved hands. “If I’m prettier than the mountains andlakes, and that’s an if, mind you, then you’re much, much more beautiful thanthe entire sky, and everything under it.”

“Oh!” Viktor’s other hand flies up to his mouth,and for a moment Yuuri worries he’ll fall from his broom, so he tightens hisgrip to make sure he doesn’t even though he’s quite aware that Viktor is easilyhis equal in flight skill. Probably hisbetter, really. “And who’s the flatterernow?”

Yuuri squeezeshis hand and offers him a genuine, happy smile. “And you’re even cuter when you blush,” he adds, then immediately dropsinto another quick dive and a roll instead of waiting for a response. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he seesViktor, flustered and waving a hand in complaint as he follows,protesting.

“I—what—I’m notblushing! Yuuri! It’s the wind!”

A laugh bubblesup in his throat and spills from his mouth, torn from his lips by the rushingwind, and Yuuri pulls himself into a hard, fast corkscrew just for the fun ofit, then shoots upward in a big loop. There isn’t much better than flying above scenery this breathtaking,especially not when one is flying with the most beautiful man in the world.

“You can’t justsay that and rush off!” Viktor is complaining, drawing closer again. Yuuri just grins, feeling lighter than ever,all stuffed with giddy golden butterflies that thrive on the freedom of beingout here, up here, with just the twoof them. He hasn’t felt this free in along time.

“I can,” hepoints out. “I just did.”

“You better notdo it again,” Viktor pouts, eyes twinkling. Joy shines in his face, brighter than the sun, and his wind-mussed hairfloats about so enticingly that Yuuri almost abandons his hold on his broomjust to lean over and run his hands through it. It’s silvery-white in the sunlight, almost like a halo, and it’s kind ofa pity that they’re flying way up here, because that raw delight makes Yuuriwant to grab him and kiss him senseless, which would be a bit of a healthhazard. So he really should findsomething else to distract himself with.

Besides, Viktorjust issued what clearly is achallenge to do it again, and what kind of boyfriend would he be to let himdown?

So Yuuri justgrins at him, competitive spirit coming out again. Viktor must be able to see it, because helets out a playful groan. “Oh no,” hesays. “Don’t you dare, you—”

“I think youhave a really cute nose,” Yuuri blurts out, then shoots forward as fast as hecan, the wind making his eyes water. Behind him, he hears Viktor let out a shout.

“Yuuri!”

“Catch me ifyou can!” he calls back, because if they make it a chase, he can pretend he’sonly red-cheeked because of the wind and the chill, not from the embarrassmentof just having told Viktor he has a cute nose to his face. And Viktor isjust as competitive as he is, so he’ll play.

And then it’son, up and down and back and forth and around, through the forests and over theslopes, skimming the lakes and reaching high for the clouds. It’s a beautiful day, except for the cold,and Yuuri can’t stop laughing as he darts away from Viktor, who stays right onhis tail, always just out of reach. Theminutes fly by like seconds, until they’re both out of breath, floating above aclifftop meadow. It’s very green.

“Wow,” Yuuribreathes, leaning forward until he’s almost flat on his broom as he looks down,over the edge of the cliff. The windpicks up again, blowing his hair back from his face, and he scrunches up hisnose against it, looking at the sharp fall of the cliffside, leaping down tomeet the cold, blue fjord far below. Alittle waterfall like white lace dances its way down the sheer rock, so distantit could be a thread.

A sudden yelpgrabs his attention, and he whips around just in time to see Viktor go tumblingoff his broom. Alarm bells explode asYuuri races back toward him, watching as if in slow-motion as he starts tofall, fall, fall…

…and lands witha thump in the grass of the meadow.

Heart poundingin his throat because of how close he is to the cliff’s edge, Yuuri urges hisbroom down, suddenly terrified. Viktoris face-down. He’s not moving. Oh, god, what happened? How did he fall? Is he—

“Vitya!” hecries, swooping in low and muttering a curse as he tries to detangle himselfand his robes from the broom. Dammit, hereally should have tied them up properly earlier! “Vitya, are you okay? Oh my god, Vitya—”

Viktor rollsover, his hands covering his face. “Yuuri,” he says, and his voice trembles. Oh, no, no no no, is he crying? What happened, what happened, what happened? “Yuuri, I’m ruined. My dignity is gone. It’s all your fault; you did this to me.”

Confusion andguilt rise, and his hands still on the broom. Yuuri sits there in midair, blinking, before he finally tries to findwords. “I… what? Sorry, I…”

Viktor moveshis hands aside, and oh, he’s notcrying at all. He’s laughing. His face is allpink and there’s a shy smile there as he laughs, and now he’s holding out hisarms, the universal invitation for a hug. “Yuuri!” he exclaims, shaking his head. “I fell because—of all things!—I got distracted by thinking of how cute you looked just now! Come here, I need at least ten hugs to feelbetter.”

Relief comesfirst, hard-hitting and heady, and it spills out as laughter. ViktorNikiforov, of all people, fell off his broom because he gotdistracted? Yuuri can’t help but giggleat him.

And then therest of his sentence clicks into place, and with it, Yuuri flips the switchfrom incredibly amused to awfully flustered in a heartbeat. “You what?!”he yelps. How cute he—but he wasn’t evendoing anything—!

Heat floods hischeeks faster than a falling Quidditch star hits the ground, making himinstinctively try to bury his face in his hands, and the next thing he knows,the world is tilting dangerously and then there’s a hard impact against hisshoulder and back and hip and ankle, and he blinks, confused, up at the sky.

“Oh my god,”Viktor says, next to him. He starts tolaugh all over again, then rolls over and drapes his arm and leg overYuuri. “And they say love gives us wings,”he sighs mournfully, and the entire situation is so ridiculous that Yuuri justhas to laugh.

He turns and isgreeted by those same sky-blue eyes he was admiring earlier, now sparkling withboth laughter and warmth. Viktor smilesat him with all the tenderness in the world, and Yuuri presses their foreheadstogether, heart still pounding from the exhilaration of their flight.

“I still thinkyou’re very cute when you blush,” he says, and pecks the tip of Viktor’s (verycute) nose. Viktor, of course, blushes.

“You’re evencuter when you’re making those faces at the wind,” he says, his hand findingits way into Yuuri’s hair. The leatherof his glove is slightly cool against Yuuri’s scalp, and when the wind blowsagain, he has to stifle a shiver.

…Viktor’s capeis right there.

Sitting up, heignores Viktor’s soft questioning mewl and reaches for the buckle instead,undoing the clasp as it sits snug across Viktor’s chest. Viktor makes an odd little choked sound.

“You know,dear, if you plan on undressing me, there might be better places than—”

Blushingharder, Yuuri tugs at the cape. “I’mstealing this,” he says, tugging at it again, and Viktor stops. Then he laughs.

“Of course,” hesays. Then he sits up too, wraps itaround the both of them, and pulls Yuuri close, against his chest. His arms are warm and snug, wrapped aroundhim as they are, and Yuuri smiles happily, leaning into him. “What’s mine is yours. I told you that when you first got here.”

“You’re mine,”Yuuri teases, closing his eyes and tucking his head into the crook of Viktor’sneck, nice and cozy. The cape blocks thewind very effectively, and Viktor radiates heat. He could fall asleep like this.

Viktor takes amoment to reply, and Yuuri blinks, opening his eyes just in time to catch hisboyfriend looking down at him with the most gentle, tender expression he’s everseen.

“Yeah,” Viktoragrees warmly. “I am.”

#victuuri #sorry anon all i got rn is old stuff :(#im having an off day myself and writing is... hard haha #i hope you feel better soon!!!#written #yoi written #viktor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #anon #answers

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black-strike-otp · 7 years

Text

part 49

♫♪ You're the light inside my eyes. You give me a reason to keep trying. You give me more than I could dream, and you bring me to my knees. You bring me to my knees. Your heart is gold and how am I the one that you've chosen to love? I still can't believe that you're right next to me after all that I've done~ ♫♪

Mmmmmm oh my god u stupid fluff babies.

With pedes carefully positioned, Novastrike allowed herself to slide down the slopping embankment’s loose surface. The ground beneath her felt like it was bucking and moving and she grinned, jumping just in time to clear Scorponok as he broke free of his furrows to leap forth from the ground in the air. Bare inches kept his drills from nicking Nova’s pedes as she hurtled him and hit the ground, sliding the remainder of the way down with ease as the bug threw himself backwards into the ground to start another tunnel.

Skipping lightly, the little femme came to a halt and looked up with a massive grin. Blackout’s dark optics were upon her with that endless look of equal measure bewilderment and humor. There was a smile on the corner of his mouth he continuously tried to hide or turn into a scowl with little success.

“Did you enjoy your way down?” Blackout rumbled with amusement.

“I sure did,” Nova chirped. “Faster than your way.”

“Then how did I get down here first?”

“You cheated and flew.”

“It’s not cheating if it’s a natural adaptation to my form,” the big mech countered.

“You call it a ‘natural adaptation’, I call it cheating. You know I can’t fly.”

“And I haven’t the build and low center of gravity to simply glide down a hillside,” Blackout sniffed.

Nova stuck out her glossia. “Coulda tried.”

“Ah, yes,” Satan agreed in monotone, “I would have enjoyed explaining to Guard how not only he but now I have a broken leg and likely a pelvis, and whatever else I may strain or fracture on the way down. Why don’t you try sprouting wings or rotor blades?”

Squinting her optics, the small femme allowed a pausing silence to fall over them. Blackout slowly raised an optic ridge.

“Are you trying to spontaneously grow wings?”

“Did it work?”

A deep reverberating snicker warmly escaped the gigantic mech. Novastrike felt her spark skip a few pulses as a wide smile instantly appeared on her face. Every note of his rich laughter was so purely genuine she couldn’t help but feel giddy herself. Sure, it wasn’t the most dainty of laughs and more of a malevolent chuckle one would expect from a nightmarish villain out to steal and corrupt your soul, but she loved it.

It wasn’t nearly as rare as he played it out to be either. But perhaps that was all a matter of both perspective and circumstance.

“You are a very interesting femme,” Blackout offered with a tone of admiration.

“Psst, I know,” Nova agreed with a sassy twist of her hips and flick of her tail. Though the attempt was clearly meant to somewhat coy, it didn’t quite reach the level as her ears lightly glowed with embarrassment.

As she turned her soft optics back upon the towering figure of shadows, she noticed that look in his gaze again. Novastrike couldn’t place a digit on when she’d first noticed it but it hadn’t been long. There was a tender look in his optics; a different, brighter sort of light as he looked to her that made the crimson colors lose saturation in the spheres of his studying glance. With that look of keen interest and compassion though was the slightest hint of indecision, like he was struggling to find the answer to a really hard question.

Picking up on the fact she too was studying him curiously as he looked upon her, Blackout cleared his throat abruptly. The half-smile on his face disappeared as he looked over to the hillside that she had just descended from to see where Scorponok had recently burrowed.

With one of her audio receptors bowing to the side slightly, Nova tilted her helm as she brought up a nagging question: “Do you ever wonder how different things might have been if I hadn’t helped you escape from that Autobot prison?”

Blackout turned his optics back upon her. The look of deep reverence and infatuation had left his expression already.

“I would have eventually gotten out,” Blackout pointed out.

“Would you have?” Nova pestered lightly.

A light and playful scowl flashed across the mech’s face. “You don’t think so?”

“I mean, I did take off one of your bonds,” she pointed out, “you had to be running low on energy and fuel by then already; you’d been down there for some time.”

“I’ve been in worse situations,” he mocked.

“I wasn’t any help at all then?” Nova pouted. “Not even a wittle itty bitty bit?”

“I won’t say you weren’t helpful,” he admitted slowly. “But I still think I could have liberated myself. You just sped up the process. As for how different things would be if you hadn’t aided in an attempted ‘rescue’, I can’t say. Any encounters we had thereafter may have certainly ended... differently.”

“You did pay me back by helping me escape from the Decepticons,” Nova pointed out.

“It seemed the right think to do,” Blackout mumbled, shifting his massive legs with a sign of discomfort.

The quirky smile on Novastrike’s lips grew a fraction wider. A very unusual statement for someone who never seemed to care what was morally sound or not before.

“Do you think we’d have gotten to this point if not for all that?” she asked quietly.

Blackout drew together his optic ridges in thought. For a brief moment, Nova thought for sure she hadn’t clarified enough and he thought she meant location, rather than situation. But he seemed to have caught on.

“I don’t know,” he concluded. “But the positions that led us here can not be changed. I am grateful, regardless.”

“Grateful?” Nova drawled out slowly, placing a servo to her chassis.

“Yes,” Blackout stated with a slightly puzzled look. “I’m grateful. I’m... quite honored and enlightened to be by your side. I can say with honesty that I would never have thought myself capable of enjoying a committed long-term interrelation. It’s remarkably nice.”

The pulsing light glow of Novastrike’s ears began to flood with heated energon and illuminate a harsher light. She gave a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat.

“So, you were more of a hook-up kind of mech?”

The remark caught the big mech off guard. His shoulders raised and stiffened slightly and he turned his gaze away.

“It was simpler that way,” he offhandedly grunted.

“And now you enjoy complicated?”

“You don’t make it complicated,” Blackout disagreed, drawing his optic ridges even closer together for a moment. That serene, tender look reappeared as he glanced down at her.

“It’s not easy to understand, but it’s...”

Novastrike leaned forward slightly as he struggled to find his words. His optics were shifting; light changing and colors moving from dull to bright and back again as he seemed to be working it over in his helm.

Or perhaps not working it over at all. He just seemed to be staring at her now, transfixed and mystified.

Novastrike raised a servo, and just as she began to wave it he blinked and grumbled something very faintly, so much so she couldn’t hear if there were actual words in the low tones uttered.

“Sorry, just thought you were having a black-out, Blackout dear.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he thickly growled.

“As you were saying...?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just- an enjoyable experience.”

With the light slowly fading from Novastrike’s ears, she lowered her arm and placed each of her servos upon her hips. The on and off switches that mech went through always left her so baffled. One nanoklik he could be open and pleasantly affectionate and the next he was struggling to even look at her.

But she understood. Deep inside somewhere, she got it. He wasn’t used to feeling; emotions outside of anger and dark humor and a few stray here and there’s weren’t a part of him. They were foreign. Maybe once there was more than anger and violence in his reactions but who really knew how long ago that time might have been.

Trying to learn, or maybe relearn, how to express himself was an upward battle. It might even be one of the hardest ones he’d faced. She just couldn’t fathom beyond understanding the mechanics of why how long it would last or make him suffer.

“Hey handsome devil,” she purred gently, “you ready to head back for the Rising Star? I’m sure they’re done refueling by now.”

The obsidian mech’s optics flicked back towards her. “They’ve been done for a while; it hasn’t been too long since our refuel on Epads. But I don’t think Guard will be too hard on us if we stay out a bit longer. I’m sure some of the bots on the ship are still wandering around, stretching their limbs.”

Nova lifted an optic ridge questioningly.

A nefarious little demon’s grin crossed Blackout’s face. Shifting his weight, the massive mech took to one knee and offered out a servo to her.

She stilled looked at him skeptically. “What have you got in your processor, you rebel?”

“Come with me, and you’ll find out.”

Reaching out, Nova gingerly placed her digit against Blackout’s. “Oh, how daring and romantic~”

Waiting for her to climb on, Blackout reached up to tap the comm system on the side of his helm. “Scorponok, we’re going to be away for a while. You still remember where the Rising Star is, correct?”

Appearing pleased with the response after a silent pause, Blackout turned his attention back onto her. His digits curled slightly around her as he moved to stand. As Novastrike glanced him up and down from her knelt position against his digits, Blackout raised his free servo to his mouth, indicating silence.

“Don’t move too much,” he offered. “I’ve only tried this once before.”

“What do you-”

Panels of metal began to shift forward. The sound of armor decompressing hissed quietly as Blackout began to transform. Novastrike could only dare to move an arm to slap it over mouth to keep from making anxious squeaks. Sharp sections of hardened lustrous cerametal barely missed skewering her; heavy sections of thick plating moving just inches from possibly crushing her.

It both a terrifying experience as much as it was fascinating. She could only imagine how much faith Blackout had to have in her not to move and damage him to be willing to do this. It took away a little of her nausea as she was carefully shifted around all the mobile pieces of his frame.

After a few nanokliks of movement and rearranging, it was over, and Nova found herself sitting in the interior floor of Blackout’s alt-mode.

“Well, that went better than expected,” a familiar intimidating voice echoed through the spacecraft. “Last time I nearly removed Scorponok’s tail.”

Ears perked, Nova swiftly lashed her tail around and into her lap, inspecting it for damage.

A deep chuckle flowed through Blackout in response.

“I seem to be in one piece,” Nova agreed, her voice shaking a tiny bit.

“My apologies for startling you,” the mech formally expressed.

“No, don’t apologize-” Novastrike swiftly responded. “I was a bit- taken off guard, but you’re okay. That was pretty cool, actually. I’m sure it took a lot of concentration.”

“It did.”

“Was your nifty little trick all you had to present to me then, show-off?”

A growl vibrated through the canopy of the vessel. It was quickly cut off by the sound of the engines humming to life; thrusters warming up in the back with a roar before tapering off into a kitten-like purr.

“It was my more impressive showcase,” Blackout admitted, “But I thought we could go for a little drifting in space. I can show you more of the cosmos.”

“Oooh you know fireballs from light-years away makes me weak,” Novastrike joked, slowly moving to test her pedes. Good, she wasn’t too shaken up not to be able to walk over and take a seat at the sole chair in the entire ship at least.

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Maybe a bit, but I do truthfully enjoy star-gazing. I never did get to learn too much on the constellations and other planets. Autobot’s weren’t too concerned with teaching; the war was more of a priority.”

An uncomfortable stillness followed her words for a moment.

“Right,” Blackout hedged, sound slightly vexed.

“Does that bother you?” Novastrike prodded, digits lightly caressing the arm of her chair as Blackout began to lift off the ground.

“Yes? No? Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Maybe it just bothers me because it’s you.”

“Oh do go on, you soft-sparked sweet talker.”

“Hush,” Blackout responded in a slightly flustered, agitated tone. “I may not have had the best years of my life prior to the Decepticon/Autobot confrontation, but even I wasn’t without ways to obtain reading material. I got very little from... my masters, outside of a mild education so I was intelligent enough to read and write and do my work efficiently but not smart enough to pose a threat. But I had a starting place, even before I had the credits to purchase my own material and get my own training.”

“Your masters?” Novastrike faintly repeated.

It seemed a less favorable topic, as Blackout responded in an edgy voice, “Yes. I was bought and sold a servo full of times to different masters. Gambled. It all depended on who wanted what I possessed the most, or who feared me the most.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It was life.”

“They feared yet, yet they owned you?”

“Of course. The wiser ones knew to fear me. They knew what I was capable of; a hulking mech like myself that could carry enormous loads and handled hot slag regularly.”

“I can’t believe there were bots that thought that was even remotely ethical. You our your own bot. They had no right to enslave you.”

“Things have not changed much since then,” Blackout quietly stated.

There was a distinct emphasis in his words. Something about it made it seem like he’d been thinking on this for a while.

“How so?” Novastrike curiously asked, wondering on his take.

“Well, take you for example. I do not mean this in a hurtful way, darling, but... you were one of the final sparks granted from the Well, and you had just as much right as I did to make your own life. Instead, you were slapped in a frame, abandoned, picked up, told what to fight for without knowing why, given a gun and told to fire.”

“The Decepticons are not blameless either,” he went on. “There are plenty of bots who were forced into their line of work. Given no other alternative. Placed in the smelted remains of other Decepticon bodies thrown into a pit and forged into a new frame, and told to fight. I’ve seen some of those mechs go absolutely mad. They’d claim they heard voices; that sometimes their appendages would act on their own.”

Shuddering violently, Novastrike reached across to wrap her arms around herself for comfort. Her optics clouded over; pale blue and a darkened pupil. She blinked slowly, taking in the cold depths of space as they shuttled out of the atmosphere with hardly any turbulence from the thin atmosphere.

“That’s so sad,” she whispered.

Blackout didn’t respond.

“Blackout, dear, I hope you find what you deserve in life,” Nova murmured, changing subjects. “You deserve to make your own path. Make your own choices, decide your own fate, fight for your own beliefs.”

A hum moved through Blackout’s form softly. “Funny, I thought I was doing just that.”

“Oh?” Nova brightly inquired. “The Rising Star’s really grown on you, huh? I guess it must have; you wouldn’t still be here, and now with a job otherwise...”

“I was referring to you.”

“Of course you were,” Nova stated in a muffled voice, trying to shrink down into the seat as her blushing ears flattened against her helm.

“You’re so easily embarrassed. It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, well, so are you.”

“The universe says otherwise.”

“What do I care what the universe says?” Nova challenged.

Blackout spoke solemnly as he stated: “You do not have to. I never cared for what the universe said. But it is not wrong.”

Frowning deeply, the little femme gave a shake of her helm. “You shouldn’t think so badly of yourself, otherwise you’ll come to believe what you think.”

“Likewise could be said to you, Nova, my dear,” Blackout reminded her. “‘If the world thinks you’re a monster, what does it matter? The world is wrong. But when you start to think of yourself as a monster...’ “

“It infects your mind,” Nova offered. “What’s that from? I feel like I’ve heard that passage before.”

“Doesn’t matter. It holds true. The universe and everyone can think as they wish, and a stronger bot can shrug it off. But when you think of yourself one way, it ends up becoming impossible to see it in any other light.”

“Does it matter that I care what I think of you?” Nova offered softly. “Does it matter that I want you happy?”

“More than you realize.”

She smiled at the softness of his voice; the relief that settled somewhere in his processor just from the way his tones changed and the rough exterior of his usual voice left him.

“Good. Because your happiness means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me,” Novastrike felt her audios glowing brighter as she feverishly finished, “And no matter where you came from, what you did, and what comes next, I know you can get through it and I hope to be there for you, come what may.”

Giving a slight twitch of her ears, Novastrike could hear the barest sound of a song playing. It was nearly impossible catch but there it was; a thunderous dark tune playing. It sounded distant and far away. But there should be no music here, no sound other than those coming from each other out here in the empty vacuum of space. Unless...

“‘Yours is the light by which spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars’,” Blackout quoted gently.

Mumbling softly, the small femme reached up to place her servos over her ears to hide her shameful blushing. “Since when did you read poetry?”

“I haven’t, not in a century at least. Strange what you pull from me that I wasn’t even aware still had a place in my processor.”

“Never saw you as the romantic type,” she teased.

“Maybe I’m just light-headed from leaving the atmosphere so quickly.”

Nova rolled her optics at the remark. “Nice try, but there was hardly an atmosphere to breech.”

“It was simply a quote, nothing more,” Blackout disagreed nervously. “I was only adding to the mood. Besides, maybe space debris hit me while we were leaving. You don’t know. It’s a great mystery.”

“You rose through literally a thin blanket of particles and light with very little gas,” Nova deadpanned. “Your excuses are terrible. Oh Dark Lord of the Night, I regret to inform you that you’ve got a sappy spark.”

“‘Though my soul may be set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved a star too fondly to be fearful of the night.’”

Novastrike went quiet, too stunned to respond. Even Blackout seemed to be caught off guard by his own playful musings.

“Right,” Blackout gruffly remarked after a span of a few minutes, onlining the star map screen to the side of his viewing console. “Lets start with Scorpii, shall we?”

Nova was too stunned to agree or disagree. In fact, the entire time they spent drifting out in space, she couldn’t seem to shake off a single word that buzzed around in her helm. She only hoped it was too obvious how distracted she was by her own contemplating; completely oblivious to the mistake in the quote to even realize it was there.

#quid pro quo au #OTP AU #OTP Lit #Cute OTP

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itshaejinju · 7 years

Text

In Her Sister’s Shadow | Fairy Tail | Chapter 7 |

This is where I left off, there are two more special episode chapters after this that I’ll post in one big one as they both are rather small.

@stunninglyignis @neko-otaku13

“Hey look guys!” Mirajane shouted, running down the stairs carrying a bottle of medicine.

I looked up from my spot kneeling beside Master Makarov who was on the ground grasping at his chest in pain. I felt a hand on my arm looking up I saw Gajeel staring at me nudging his head out at the window.

“What is that bastard doing now?” I questioned – what was a Thunder Palace?

Mirajane brought Master Makarov to the hospital wing. I followed the rest up the stairs, Can and Bisca went on explaining what we were seeing – Lightning Lacrima. Laxus' 'Thunder Palace' was hundreds of Lightning Lacrima orbs floating around the town of Magnolia. Since I freed everyone Laxus lost his Fairy Tail hostages – but he stepped up his foolish game. Now the whole town was his hostages!

“I'll fix this!” Bisca said, hefting her sniper rifle off her narrow shoulders.

I was watching Natsu – he was fuming his attitude changed rather quickly at this sight in front of him. At first Natsu genuinely thought Laxus was playing a pure game. Not betrayal – forcing the male members of the guild to fight each other to save the female members. He believed it in his heart to be a contest to see who was the strongest members of the guild – Natsu went as far as chasing Lucy around trying to fight her. Why was this child so naïve? I knew there was something going on with Laxus I could feel it in his malice towards me that it was something more than his normal rudeness towards me. I should have said something. . .but this is the Master's grandson he wouldn't have thought horrid things about that child so easily. Though now. . .Master Makarov in the hospital bed unconscious from the heart attack.

A scream brought me out of my thoughts, Bisca was surrounded by lightning being violently zapped. She had destroyed one of the many Lightning Lacrima and it retaliated on her – sending her to the ground in a burnt heap. Was there some way I could deactivate that? It was a thing not really a magical skill that I could mimic to stop it so my natural magic wouldn't work though how about music magic? Could I find a song that could do something? I grabbed at the mp3 player and started to thumb through the songs, there was nothing I had that could safely protect me and get rid of them. Looking up at Natsu again I saw the burning rage of anger build up in his eyes, as his mind put together that these items would kill civilians. They did not have the built up strength like us – so it would kill and not just beat the crap out of them. Natsu jumped off the roof of the building attempting to leave – totally forgetting about the barrier Freed made.

“Idiot. I'm going to help Erza.” I said turning around, speaking to no one in particular it wasn't like anyone really listened to me anyways so I never expect a comment back.

“We need to evacuate the civilians!” Lucy shouted as it dawned on her that all these people needed to be warned.

“Round them up and take them out the South end.” I told her as she saw me heading down the steps again.

“Aye ~ I will help Lucy!” Happy said excitedly, sprouting wings lifting her up into the sky flying off with ease.

If that Exceed were to do that to me wearing a skirt or even the robe and bikini I was still wearing right now I would have plucked off his wings. But I'm not as cheery friendly as Lucy.

“Yes let's get moving.” Cana said as she hefted the unconscious Biscane up over her shoulder.

“I'll work on breaking this barrier so Natsu and Gajeel can join you guys!” Levy said as she went to the library to get a few reference books.

“And Laxus is mine!” Natsu shouted as he raced down the stairs to join the rest of us.

“Where are you going?” Gajeel asked as I headed to a side room, he following behind me looking curious small red eyes surveying me still in the robes.

“I'm changing my clothes I am not going to fight in this robe and so called bikini anymore.” I said picking up my satchel that was on one of the tables it carried a spare set of clothes.

“I will guard the door no need for creepers staring at you changing.” Gajeel said as he walked in the room with me.

“Why are you in here?” I shouted at him – why does he always follow me around?

He is seriously this hulking metal eating mass of a shadow that I don't need.

“Guarding the door obviously. . .” He wasn't able to finish his sentence I shoved him out of the room locking the door, shaking my head.

“Perv!”

I have never dealt with anyone like him before, ever since he's joined this guild he constantly follows me around begging to go on missions with me. Calling me his 'mate' even doll-face when he thinks he's being cute. Really what was about me that was so fascinating to him? No matter how many times I push him away towards anyone else he comes right back. . .like a bad penny. Though kind of a cute penny – bad but kind of cute.

“Laxus you're getting your reward.” I said as I tugged on black capri pants, a light blue button up blouse that rested right above my belly button, showing off the fairy tail tattoo.

Sliding the mp3 player into my pocket I placed a ear bud into my left ear, it clacked against the industrial piercing. The piercing was still new and tender I rubbed the ear gently, I got the piercing a few days before I left Helios it was a gift from Kyoga.

~~Few months ago~~

“Dez-Chan!” Kyoga shouted rushing down the steps of the village hall, large bushy black tail bouncing behind him.

He dropped calling me Dez-Sama to the 'chan' honorific – well when the head of clans were around he would use sama still. I stopped, midway down the steps only to be bowled over by the tall youth – well he was only a year younger than I am but he seriously acted like he was a good five years younger than me when we are alone. We toppled down the steps landing at the bottom on in a heap, limbs all tangled up in each other.

“Kyoga-Sama what is going on?” I asked as I looked into his blushing face as he removed himself from my chest.

“I have a present for you!” He said happily removing himself from me, quickly hiding his red face as he got to his feet he helped me up.

“Another present? Why are you always showering me with gifts?” I asked confused I had recently received a necklace from him, a special Okami cooked dinner, a dress and now another thing?

“Because - - you are so nice! And you say that your friends and such never get you proper gifts. . .I want to make up for it. Plus you are leaving me soon I want to give you something so you won't forget me.” He said ending it with a small pout, a pout on a Okami is adorable with small amount of fang sticking out pinching his lower lip some.

I noticed he was fidgeting with his tail some, I found that was a common trait of the Okami when they were feeling nervous. I haven't found a nervous trait of the Kitsune – they are smug for sure, fun to tease though. He always became a nervous ball of fur around me as of late ever since the last month of me being here he's all nerves.

“Thanks Kyoga-Sama, you are really sweet.” I said happily, taking the small box from his hands.

“I'm hardly sweet. . .I'm a wolf we are vicious.” He said shyly blushing a little he was use to people telling him that humans are deathly afraid of his kind, so him being called sweet by a human felt strange to him, though I was his first human.

I opened the box to see a silver bar with a music note hooked around the center of it, a industrial earring. Peering up at his large yellow eyes I smiled noticing there was two of them as the second moved slightly as my hands shook a little, I wasn't good with presents specially if they are nice ones.

“It's so pretty Kyoga-Sama – thanks but I don't have this piercing.” I said touching my ears all I had was the traditional lobes done.

“There is two one for me and one for you – it's a sort of bonding thing with friends matching rings and such is a good thing amongst the Okami.” He said pointing at his ears noticing he didn't have industrial piercing either just the lobes done in gauges.

“Oh – I am honored!” I said happily, it was the first time someone actually wanted to do something friends do as a bonding experience, strange that I had to go all the way to the other side of the world to do it.

“Let's go, I know of a cool place we can go – I promise it won't hurt much.” He said taking my hand in his, the thick nails of his hands slightly scraping on my skin some.

We ended up getting our left ears done, it was only painful for the second hole but Kyoga held my hand the whole time and stared at my ear watching the needle go through. He let out a little yip as it went through his ear, which he tells me is a normal sound as he looked a bit embarrassed by it.

~~Present Time~~

“Make sure to leave Laxus for me!” Natsu shouted at me as I walked out the front door leaving, Levy to read through the books to solve that dilemma.

'The others are taking care of the civilians and rounding up the remaining members. . .but where is Erza? I need to be with her.' I thought as I thumbed through the play list of the mp3 player, I could find her through the music magic.

“Music Magic Find Erza - ~ Don't be scared if I'm gone from view ~ I'll always find you. ~ Never doubt I will always find you.” I sung aloud to the song, small musical notes left the mp3 player as it guided me to Erza.

A few minutes later I found myself outside the local bath house – what was Erza doing here? It was no time for a bath! Special at the public bath house we have private ones at Fairy Tail. . .generally she ends up in my bath tub anyways. I heard nervous shouting, then sound of feet slamming on the ground, my twin emerged from the front of the bath house looking upset beyond belief.

“EVERGREEN!” She shouted at the top of her lungs looking terrifying, most people would wince and hide at that expression that was on her face right now, one of pure anger but it never really bothered me, her look of sadness was more pain to me then again her true sadness was because of me anyways.

“Sister. . .” I called out as she turned to me looking wild, two swords at her side.

“She led me through a false trail I can't believe I fell for that.” She said pouting then walking over to me, looking determined. “You free the others I see? How are they?”

“They are fine. . .Gajeel and Natsu are still unable to leave but Levy is figuring that out so we can be sure of some property destroying here soon. Bisca is out of commission she went to destroy one of the Lacrima but it back fired and attacked her. I'm here to help you out – Laxus needs to be put back in spot, I can't stand for betrayers.”

“I know – I just can't believe he would do something as dangerous as this.”

“His mind is warped, Erza. So Evergreen lied to you – no sense going back after her. Let's use a little bit of music magic, let me find the right song.” I said as I pawed through the playlist.

“That thing is really handy – who gave it to you?” Erza questioned looking over my shoulder at the play list.

“The Head of the Okami clan gave it to me as a thank you gift for being so kind to his son.”

“Oh? A love interest?”

“No. . .that couldn't happen our cultures are so different – their beliefs on romantic relationships with other species is very strict. Plus I have so much I have to do here before I could go back. . .and there is no way he actually would like me that way. I'm not that great – I'm not you.”

“You are great – I wish you would see that. A lot of people in the guild see it, clearly Gajeel does.”

“Don't speak of that weirdo. Here is the song geez I just listened to it wouldn't think it would have gotten lost here.” I said blushing a little turning my head away from Erza and her stares.

“Oh that's how it is.” She said with a broad smile.

“Music Magic find Laxus ~ When stars are gone. ~ Pages fade in the tale we knew, Hope is born ~ don't be scared if you can't find truth. ~ We belong never doubt I will always find you. ~ Love is truth darkness falls but our hearts stay true. ~ I'm with you don't be scared if. ~ I'm gone from view ~ I'll always find you. ~ Never doubt I will always find you. ~”

“That is so beautiful. . .and fascinating.” Erza admired watching the musical notes flutter forward.

“I know it's so much better than my actual magic. . .I wish I had this instead of this lame mockery.” I said bitterly wishing with all my might that this had been my true magic and not something I needed to use a tool for.

“But your magic is really good.” Erza said, starting a argument.

“Whatever, let's move.” I said turning away from her and heading towards the musical notes leading us closer to Laxus.

#fairy tail #oc #in her sister's shadow #chapter 7

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