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scones-and-texting-and-murder · 3 years

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Bookends

(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )

Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link

Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.

Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.

With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.

Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.

To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.

As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.

“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.

They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.

“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”

“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.

Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.

Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”

Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.

“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”

Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”

Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”

Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.

Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.

Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.

When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”

Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”

They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.

“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”

Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”

She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”

Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.

“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.

The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.

Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”

“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.

The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”

“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.

“I always do,” Cas assures him.

When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.

Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.

Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.

“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.

Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.

#deancas #destiel #my writing #growing old together #this came well before the finale #but it feels like a fix it fic nonetheless

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local-ground-apple · 4 years

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Can I ask fluff (and spice?) headcanons for Pomefiore and Scarabia boys turning into a 4-5 kid by accident and their s/o have to take care of them. And when they turn back normal what would their reaction? It's up to you Author-san!!!(-chan?) Oh, I and you can include some other characters too~❤❤❤

I couldn’t think of anything spicy, so maybe in another Vil one-shot I have planned

Oh, when I thought of that scenario, the first person that came to my mind was Silver, so I included him too

🏹 even as a child he is deadly. You literally have to hide his bow and arrow before his small hands land on them,

🏹 magically Rook still gets his hands on them despite your unrelenting efforts to stop him,

🏹 you absolutely cannot shift your attention from child Rook. Even in this form his footsteps are light and there’s no way you would hear them. He’s quite good in escaping your sight and you panic each time he does that. There’s a high chance you’d find Rook somewhere in Savanaclaw trying to touch Leona’s tail,

🏹 stop him, before big bad lion wakes up,

🏹 babysitting Rook is just draining, so after each day you’re exhausted,

🏹 even as a child, Rook will still kiss your cheeks and showers you in compliments in French, even if tell him to stop. He shall not listen,

🏹 when Rook turns human again (mostly because Crewel finally made a potion), he thanks you deeply for taking care of him. He doesn’t seem troubled by it at all, non, non. He actually enjoyed his rather short time under your wings,

🦚 he must have somehow mess something up with the ingredients or measured something incorrectly. Needless to say, Vil is absolutely embarrassed. What about his image, how could this happen? So obviously, he blamed Rook for his current state, knowing damn well that it was his own fault. Rook decided to politely roll with it,

🦚 you literally can’t stop cooing how cute and adorable Vil is as a child (you had never seen prettier kid). He may enjoy your attention focused solely on him, but he won’t hesitate to slap your hand if you go overboard (you still find it cute),

🦚 you and Rook are self-proclaimed parents. Rook dotes on Vil, while you just do your best to keep him out of trying to produce any potions,

,,If I did it in my adult form, I can still do it, Y/N” “No, you’re a baby” “I’m not a baby!!” “Yes, you are”

🦚 Vil secretly enjoys when you give him attention. Just give him small pecks on the forehead or cheek and he will blush and turn his head around,

🦚 when he finally turns back, Vil brushes this whole accident off. He just wants to quickly forget. Of course, he appreciates every effort you had put in taking care of him and he will thank you, but deep down inside, he feels a bit embarrassed,

🦚 Vil invites for a “spa day”. It’s his way of doting on you for a whole time, as a thank you present,

🍏 Epel is simply devastated when he turns into child,

🍏 well, he’s devastated for two minutes before he throws a tantrum. A lot of tantrums,

🍏 whether you want it or not, Vil proclaims himself as a father. You both argue a lot when it comes to taking care of Epel. However, you both agree on one thing – that Rook should not participate in Epel’s upbringing,

🍏 Epel is rather aggressive, deciding it’s the best time to pay back for all that bullying he had gone through. Yes, he’s stealing Rook’s hat, hiding Vil’s lipsticks and generally pulling a lot of pranks on them. Technically, he’s a child and you’re there whenever furious dorm leader raises his hand to slap Epel,

🍏 he enjoys that he can finally annoy them and his actions go unpunished, cause you’re always there to react in time,

🍏 Epel however hates when you’re cooing over how cute he is as child. He pouts and is deeply offended. He always wanted you to view him as strong man, yet he turned into a child and you just can’t stop saying how adorable he is,

🍏 he will do his best to prove to you that he’s still capable of handling a lot of things, which leads to rather hazardous situations and you always have a mild panic attack, whenever Epel tries something. May it be trying to climb the tree to save the cat, shooting an arrow from Rook’s bow or accidentally spilling Vil’s poison everywhere, you literally have no break with him,

🍏 when he turns back, he just wants to forget about this. He appreciates your help and he will shyly thank you for it. But please don’t bring those awful memories ever again. Epel will flush and clench his fists at the mere mention,

🦂 chaos. Absolute chaos,

🦂 after a day spent on taking care of Kalim, you don’t even know what’s your name, what date is it or whether Jamil is alive,

🦂 you and Jamail join forces to stop the apparently powerful forces of destruction known as Kalim Al-Asim or just preventing the poor child from accidentally hurting himself,

🦂 make sure you locked the door leading to magical carpet properly. Double check just in case,

🦂 Kalim is cheerful and careless as a teenager, but when he’s a child, it’s a whole new level for you. During these few days, you’re always busy making sure he doesn’t injury himself or create a bigger mess. You often dance and sing with this child, making him more than happy,

🦂 you two didn’t invite Jamil to your pillow fort,

🦂 when Kalim turns back into a teenager, the first thing he does is showering you in kisses. Literally, a lot of kisses. He’s grateful that you went through trouble and took care of him. He will gladly return the favor, so expected that for the next few days Kalim will treat you like a princess,

🐍 oh boy, you thought he would be a calm child and that those few days would pass rather quickly. How wrong you were,

🐍 he tried to hypnotise Kalim into lending him magical carpet and he tried to make you give him the candies with his unique magic. Fortunately, you weren’t impressed with his attempts and you politely refused,

🐍 Jamil is surprised when you tell him that kitchen is off-limits. You don’t let him cook, too afraid that he will burn himself. However, he enjoys observing you cooking for him. He sits calmly watching you mix ingredients and in those moments, you could swear that he’s the most docile and well-behaved child you had ever seen,

🐍 he’s not,

🐍 he plays small pranks on Kalim and you have to admit that they’re somehow funny. You may even giggle whenever Jamil manages to play an innocent trick on fellow dorm leader,

🐍 Kalim threw a party and Jamil, of course, got lost in the crowd. Guess you will never get a decent break. You spent half of the evening trying to find small child, only to be surprised when he was being babysitted by Azul and Leech twins,

🐍 let’s just say that you’ve never snatched a child from someone’s arms so quickly,

🐍when he turns back, Jamil just wants to forget. Just forget about everything,

🐍 of course, he will try to recompensate your efforts. He wants to take care of you too as his way of appreciating you. He knows that he was a pain in the ass, but he’s willing to make up for this,

⚔️ Lilia is more than delighted, bah, he’s overjoyed. It’s just like few years ago when Silver was small and he can be a father again,

⚔️ Lilia absolutely knows what he’s doing, while you’re purely confused, Sebek may be laughing, but stops when you threaten him to give a potion to turn him into a child too. Malleus is intensively looking for a cure,

⚔️ Lilia lets you babysit Silver, even though he assures you that he will manage on his own,

,,I seriously want to help you. I’m his girlfriend after all” “If you insist, Little One”

⚔️ you moved to Diasomnia for few days and you were complaining all the time that it’s way too cold for a child there. You and Silver spent a lot of time in the woods. You seriously coo way too much how adorable he looks surrounded by animals,

⚔️ Silver hates when Lilia jokingly says that now, instead of his girlfriend, you’re Silver’s “self-proclaimed mum” . He just can’t stand you and Lilia acting like a caring parents, he just can’t,

,,No, she’s my girlfriend, not your self-proclaimed wife, old man” “Oh? Five-years old doesn’t have a girlfriend”

⚔️ Lilia is just joking, don’t worry,

⚔️ ancient fae had told you way too many stories from Silver’s childhood to his liking. You had also seen a ton of pictures of baby Silver,

⚔️ Silver is generally a calm child and you have practically no troubles taking care of him. He’s either asleep half of the time or purely embarrassed. No in between,

⚔️ when Silver turns (finally) back, first thing he does is hugging you tightly, while pressing kisses all over your face - on forehead, cheeks, lips,

⚔️ generally, he’s grateful for your time. Oh, and he’s extremely embarrassed. Sebek will literally never let him forget about this incident, unless you and waka-sama has a serious “talk” with this first year,

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geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde · 3 years

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Femdom Universe - Part 1

Hello loves!

This series will be ??? parts long but all fics should be able to be read as standalone. This universe will mostly follow around Yennefer though it will focus on other characters in the universe at times! I have a few more parts drafted out and idk how long they will take me to post but they’re coming.

This is Geralt/Yennefer in a modern AU, Yen in a Pro-Domme, Geralt is one of her established clients.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, cock cage, discussions of orgasm denial, mentions of spanking, praise kink, subspace, no actual sex, soft domme Yen, just generally all around very soft

Yennefer opened the door and smiled at the man before her, Geralt had been a client of hers for well over a year at this point and in that time had also become a good friend. Her first client after moving to the city and her first real friend in much longer.

She turned on her heel, her dressing gown flowing out behind her, and stalked over to the seating area, making herself comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs.

Geralt followed behind her at a sedated pace.

"You're late." She said simply once he had settled on the couch across from her.

"There was an emergency at work. Got held up."

Yennefer blinked slowly, unimpressed.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll call if it happens again."

Yennefer raised a well-manicured eyebrow.

Geralt sighed, "When it happens again."

Yennefer nodded, satisfied with his response. She knew his job was a priority, and very demanding. It was why he had first began experimenting with submission, needing to let go, not be forced to be responsible and in control all the time. But just because she understood didn't mean that he had an excuse to not communicate when he would be late.

"Now," she began, taking a sip of water, "you mentioned last night that you thought of some last-minute changes to the scene? Something new you wanted to try?"

Geralt blushed and nodded.

Yennefer wouldn't normally allow last minute changes that added new elements, much preferring the chance to talk with her clients about it and making sure they were making a fully informed choice, but she had worked with Geralt long enough to trust he had done his research.

And most likely had sat on this idea for weeks, probably months, before feeling brave enough to suggest it.

She was confident that he would ask questions if he had them and be honest with her if things weren't going well.

"Alright so what are you thinking?"

Geralt's blush deepened.

Even despite the year they had spent together having regular sessions, the man was still one of the most bashful people Yennefer had ever met.

"You mentioned once… putting me in a… cage. And I said I would think about it. And I have. And I want to… try it."

Yennefer smirked, "You think you're ready to try a cock cage?"

Geralt nodded.

"Use your words, love."

"Yes, Yen. I'm ready to try the cock cage."

"Perfect. I already have a couple purchased I thought you might like. Now, will you want it left on through the whole scene, or will you want me to release you and give you relief?"

Geralt grunted, his face a lovely pink color.

"Geralt, do you want to cum or do you want me to deny you."

"Deny me."

"If you end up getting aroused and you cum, do you want a punishment?"

Geralt shook his head and cleared his throat, "No… just… maybe some disappointment?"

Yennefer smiled, "Alright then. We can keep the rest of the scene as planned but add a cage and deny your orgasm, correct?"

"Yes. That's what I want."

"Perfect. Go on back and get comfortable. Kneel by the bed when you're ready. I'll have to go get the cages for you to choose from, but I'll be back shortly."

Cages weren't something she was sure Geralt would ever be interested in and she couldn't deny feeling thrilled he was willing to try her with this, to trust her.

Yennefer watched happily as Geralt's eyes beamed with interest as they looked over the cages. His eyes kept travelling back to the silver one. The other one, a black plastic one with a more detailed shaping, just didn't seem to be catching his eye. He traced the rings on the silver one with his gaze and Yennefer smiled.

"This one?" Yennefer asked, holding up the silver one in her hand.

"Yes." His voice already sounded wrecked and they hadn't even done anything yet.

"Yes what, darling?"

Geralt glanced up to meet Yennefer's gaze before quickly affixing his eyes to his lap, "Yes, Mistress."

Yennefer hummed happily, "Well done, darling. Now get on the bed and lie back, let's get this on you."

Geralt scrambled on the bed, his muscles shifting attractively.

Geralt was certainly the most attractive man Yennefer had ever worked with, possibly the most attractive person she had ever worked with, even.

And one of the best at following orders.

He laid back quickly, shifting into the position she always had him take with ease. His arms were relaxed and by his sides, his hands resting next to his thighs which were parted just enough Yennefer could slide between them easily.

He made a pretty picture.

Yen crawled onto the bed demurely, dressed in an elegant silken robe, and settled between his thighs, rubbing his right thigh comfortingly.

His cock began to stir.

"No, no, none of that. Let's get this cage on before we can't, shall we?"

Geralt nodded at Yennefer's question.

"Alright, love, your word and the rules and we'll get started."

"My safe word is unicorn and if I say it, everything stops, and we immediately move to after care. If I can't say my word, I squeeze your upper arm."

"Excellent work, darling. Now let's get started." She held a key out for Geralt to take with a tentative hand, "There is a key in the packaging, there by your head, and this is the other. Once I lock you up, you can keep the key if you prefer, or you can entrust it to me. It's your choice and I don't mind either way."

Geralt nodded, holding the key tightly.

Yennefer quickly slipped the base of the toy down, the ring fitting snuggly against the base of his cock and wrapping behind his balls.

She gave Geralt's cock a teasing stroke, making him suck in a sharp breath, before slipping on the cage, applying a gentle pressure until the base met the cage and she could lock the two together. She snapped the lock closed and looked up at Geralt with a smile, "All done."

Wordlessly, Geralt held the key out for her to take which she did with a gentle smile gracing her features. His trust was a heady thing to have and she was thrilled to have it.

She placed the key in a small pouch in the pocket of her robe for safe keeping and looked back up at Geralt.

Yennefer traced her hands up and down Geralt's thighs, admiring the way the muscles jumped under her touch.

"Hmm… you look excellent splayed out for me like this, love. Now, I'm going to play with you to my heart's content, and you aren't allowed to cum."

When Geralt had first come to her, he hadn't been particularly comfortable with giving up control and he had hated being doted on like this, her hands and eyes on him, appreciative.

Now, he shivered in delight with every pass of her hands.

She straddled his thigh and ran her hands up his hips, skirting just around where his cock lay, growing hard within its cage, tracing her hands up his abdomen, focusing on the hard lines and ridges.

Businessmen didn't normally look like Geralt, muscles built upon muscles, a beautifully trim waist that led up to deliciously thick shoulders.

Geralt's breathing was growing more and more shallow as she continued touching him, going slightly higher on his abdomen before trailing her fingertips back down to his hips and working her way back up. His cock twitched as best it could in the weight of the cage and Geralt rolled his hips.

Yennefer quickly pressed her hands flat against his hips, leaning her weight against them, "I didn't tell you, you could move, did I?"

Geralt whimpered and shook his head.

Yennefer pinched him on the hip, "What was that?"

"No, Mistress."

"You want to be good for me, don't you, Geralt?"

A whine, "Yes, Mistress."

"Then stay still, darling. Bad boys don't get what they want."

Geralt had shown early on he didn't particularly enjoy pain or punishments, not that he would have needed them often, he was eager to please, eager to receive praise. Although, he had always been rather fond of a good spanking.

But not this session, he simply wanted to lose himself and enjoy Yennefer's power over him, caring for him.

Geralt's hands clinched by his sides and he nodded, "Yes, Mistress. I'll be good."

"Good boy," Yennefer purred, moving her hands up his body to tweak his nipples in reward, making him moan loudly.

"That's right darling, let me hear you. You make the prettiest noises."

And so her hands continued tracing delicate patterns on his body, holding tightly around his throat for only a moment, just long enough to make his eyes go glassy with need, before focusing once again on his chest.

Yennefer wasn't sure how long she spent worshiping him with her fingers before finally, "Turn over, darling."

Geralt didn't hesitate to follow orders though his movements were slow and languid, the way he always got when he slipped into a submissive space. He settled on his stomach and Yennefer moved to straddle his waist, rubbing at his neck and shoulders. Despite how relaxed he was, the tension he carried was deep and no matter her efforts, Yennefer had never truly been able to get all the knots out.

"Would you like a massage, darling?" She asked softly, not wanting to jar him with any pain it might cause.

"No, Mistress."

Yennefer hummed, happy he was willing to communicate his wants when at one time she thought she would have to stop working with him because of how hard communication was for him.

She continued tracing his back until his breathing had evened out. She knew he wasn't asleep but he was certainly out of it. It had been at least an hour since they had begun so she decided that it was time to start bringing Geralt back.

With some soft words and touches, she got him situated on his side so she could slide in behind him, spooning him delicately.

"Geralt," she whispered, "are you hear with me, love?"

He nodded softly.

"Would you like to nap?"

Another nod.

“Do you want to take the cage off now? Or wait?”

“Wait,” Geralt whispered.

"Is this position alright?"

Geralt didn't respond for a moment before finally rolling over slowly in her arms until he could cuddle up to her side, pillowing his head softly on her breast, "Did I do well, Mistress?"

"Excellent darling. You were such a good boy for me."

Geralt smiled sleepily, his eyes already closed, and Yennefer held him gently while he drifted off to sleep.

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#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #fanfiction #dom/sub #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #geralt/yennefer #yenralt #praise #soft soft soft stuff

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adiabolikpastel · 3 years

Text

Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Karlheinz pt. 3

Rating: NSFW | PG-18

Word Count: 1,947

Pairing: Karlheinz x Skye (m/m)

ღ As the part unwinds, Skye is finally able to take a breath. Though maybe there is something else on Karl's mind, as the moons affects finally seem to reach him. ღ

Mun Yu: We did it! These are the last pieces of the LEM story. The end to our Lunar Eclipse. I hope that you have enjoyed the ride, and gotten to know the stories on this blog better! Tune in at the end of it all for Authors Notes!

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening

While he was sure others had a marvelous time at the event, Skye was exhausted. It was one thing to organize and watch something happen from afar. Being one of the hosts was completely different. There was never a moment of peace. At any time someone would come up to speak with Karl, and he would have to smile and pretend to be interested.

It was enough to just be seen and not heard. How did his wives ever deal with this? Then again, they were probably all bread for this kind of thing. After departing from Shu and his new bride, Karl had insisted on taking Ajax and his wife with him on a tour. But not before getting Burai – what were these three frat brothers?

To see Karlheinz in this light was rather amusing. Not that he was very different, but one could tell that the three men had a special bond about them. Perhaps that wasn’t something Skye could understand. He wasn’t too keen on the history here in the Demon Realm, but he did know that there used to be battles constantly. These three must have been allies through all of that. Or perhaps they were enemies which Karl subdued? Skye wasn’t sure which.

“And then, wouldn’t you know it, Meteo surprised us with a visit! It was glorious to see him! Xyander and Xylon met him for the first time. Hard to think they are already three and never met their brother. My son has been so busy – but Stevi and Helios were excited to see him. Little Onan was sleeping, but I am sure they are having a great time while we are away.” Ajax prattled on and on while they walked through the castle. Skye couldn’t help but roll his eyes, just how many kids did this guy have?!

“Dear, you speak of our children much too much. Your castle is beautiful as always, Karlheinz. Thank you again for allowing us the honor of visiting. Even if it was just to swoop away with our daughter.” His wife chimes, wearing a smile, but her words drip with venom.

Karl laughed slightly at her, Skye could tell that it was mostly in triumph. “Now Catalina, we both know that Ajax would never simply give away something so precious. Callista will be well taken care of, of that I assure you.” Karl offered her comfort, but it was more so in an attempt to get the matter dropped. He had won, there was no sense in her dwelling on the past.

“Honestly, the fuss you all make over children.” Burai finally speaks. “That is why you have them one at a time. Devote what you can, then move on.”

“That is an interesting stance, though, given your record my friend – I wouldn’t lead with it.” Karl states, in reference to Burai being not only his friend, but his ex-father-in-law.

“I would choose one child every century- millennia even - over the amount you both have.” The Demon shivered, disgusted by the idea it seemed. “They are simply a means to an end. We must produce them to preserve the line and power, but nothing more.”

“That is not true! My children bring me such joy! You cannot say that you feel nothing when you look at your son now!”

“I won’t comment on that.” Burai simply answers, as Ajax berates him with further justifications of his unending love for his offspring.

Skye walks quietly next to Karl while the demons talk amongst themselves. He was ready to retire for the evening, and as they came back into the ballroom, he was glad to see most of the guests had gone. Especially at least half of Karl’s sons – all that remained were Kanato, Shu and Reiji… wait! Was Reiji seriously trying to take Shu’s dance!?

“Well isn’t that quite the problem.” Karl muses beside him. “Seems those two just cannot get along.” Skye knew that this had to be part of a larger plan. Karl doesn’t simply do anything. There is always a motive.

“Callista my dear!” Ajax’s voice boomed from behind them, the large demon B-lining straight to his daughter. He did not seem upset by her daughter being in the arms of someone other than the man he had just left her with.

“It is still a mystery how that man became a Demon Lord.” Burai comments stepping up to Karlheinz. “He is a fool.”

“Some just have other reasons for fighting. He is plenty powerful to make up for the fool. Not to mention his wife does a fairly decent job keeping things in check.” He shrugs it off, watching the ever doting father collect his daughter. “What of you? Any plans I should know about for a future love affair?”

Burai scoffs, “My last child is still alive, so do not count on it.” He says, gesturing to someone. Skye looked in the direction, hoping it would be Alrick. To his surprise, a woman seemed to respond to the signal. She was dressed in a floor length gown, but not something fancy, something closer to a maid’s outfit really. Was this a familiar? Her appearance was almost human; very bland everything. There wasn’t even a demonic presence about her.

“You have summoned me, Lord Burai?” Whoever this was, they were most certainly a servant. Not looking up even slightly, that was some quality training.

“We are leaving.” Burai dictates, the young maid bowing and excuses herself. “You celebrations are nice, however, please do keep me off any intimidate affairs. I have little time to deal with such things.” Almost as quickly as he finished his sentence the strange woman was back, and helping him put on his coat. Perhaps she was a familiar.

“You are the last person I would want to have anything intimate with, my friend.” Karl waves off the demon lord, and escorts Skye to the head of the room. Skye looked back at the Snake demon to see if Alrick was going to show up.

Instead, he saw this supposed happy bachelor prude, actually link arms with the servant! What a hypocritical- oh god was that a kiss!? Skye couldn’t believe it. Even if it was on the hand, that ass hole. Giving everyone the ‘oh look at me – I’m all business. Big bad demon lord’. He couldn’t wait to tell Alrick about it later.

“You are quite distracted. I think that’s enough sharing you for one day.” Karl’s voice brings Skye out of his train of thought. “Come, we shall retire for the evening.” His voice was soft, as if he was purposely only allowing Skye to hear.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to imply something, my king.” Skye knew that there was no way this night was not going to end without the two of them becoming intimate. Honestly he was pretty tired. Not to mention, it was his impression that the Bloody Moon was supposed to affect the bat clan. Here the night is over and Karl’s been the same. Rip off.

Karl laughed a little at Skye’s comment, “Haha, you know me too well.” He moves a hand around Skye’s waist, holding him close. Within moments the two of them were moved out of the ballroom and into their room. Well, this was the room they typically fooled around in. Skye knew this wasn’t Karl’s room – he actually doubted that the man slept at all.

Skye smiles up at Karl and moves over to the bed, sitting on the edge, crossing his legs. “I must say, that was fun being your little arm candy ~ I don’t think there was a single person who missed it.” That thought sent shivers up his spine. What a thrill it was to be seen. Not to mention seen by all those stuck up demons who would normally look down on him.

Karl watches Skye bask in the afterglow of their appearance. What a strange creature he was, actually wanting to be the center of the universe. Yet at this moment, Karl felt like that role suited Skye more than any other. “Yes, you were magnificent, my siren.” His praise seemed to affect him, as their eyes were soon looking over one another.

With a smirk on his face, Karl summoned his magic to disrobe the cape which was draped over his shoulder. Whilst he undid the buttons on his vest, and loosened the tie around his neck. “So well in fact,” He stepped out of his shoes, and allowed magic to take his discarded clothing off to be hung up. “I believe you deserve a reward.”

Skye was entranced by Karl’s mystical display. God it was always so hot to watch him strip. Way better than doing all that work himself. Just as Skye was about to do the same, Karl suddenly dipped down and knelt before him. “My King…?” Skye’s eyes widened. This man was not about to do something stupid, right?!

With a small laugh, Karl slowly started to take off Skye’s heels. “Your expression dictates you were thinking something absurd.” He softly kisses the top of Skye’s foot. “I am rewarding you for all the hard work you did for this night, not punishing you.” There was a hint of melancholy to his words.

Karl had no interest in submitting another to the role of his ‘wife’ again. The title was nothing but a front anyway. He had not loved anyone. Still loved no one. These ‘feelings’ for Skye - if they were love, Karl would have no idea. Their time together was an end to boredom alone. The means to a release. Though if that were completely true, Skye wouldn’t be as involved as he was with Karl’s professional life.

The boy was more than just his assistant here. In the Human World, he was even Tougo Sakamaki’s new face. People saw him more than they did the politician. Once Skye had finished school, he came onto the alias’ line of work, and began working as the personal secretary for the famed politician. Karl was sure that Skye would even be a nurse for Reinhert if he had asked.

Skye let out a soft mew in response to Karl’s gentle touches and kisses. This was new, he was never this gentle. It felt nice, especially since his feet were killing him from the heels. Beauty was so painful. He was happy that things were like this, how silly to think that Karlheinz would even consider a marriage. Well, it wasn’t like he honestly thought about it - it was more just the shock of him actually kneeling.

Though now that he got a good look - the sight of the Karlheinz was worshiping his feet. “Heh, my king~ I have to admit, mhmm, the sight of you down there… is really turning me on~” He says, moving his other foot to locate Karl’s groin.

Karl simply focuses on his task at hand. Slowly. Sweetly. Moving his lips up from Skye’s foot, up his leg. “Mm! My King… if you tease me so much I - ah!” Karl moves to just behind Skye’s knee - one of his biggest weak spots. Skye bites back another moan.

“Now that wont do.” Karl suddenly speaks and looks up at Skye. His eyes are full of desire. Hunger. Lust. “I want to hear you. Every sigh. Gasp. Moan. You will not hold anything back. In return, I shall spoil you. Every. Inch.” He smirks, wetting his lips, and picking up Skye’s other foot. “So. Be the beautiful siren you are meant to be. And submit yourself to my will.”

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ROUTE END☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

#writing #Lunar Eclipse Masquerade #LEM

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doctors-star · 3 years

Note

cowboys? cowboy content?? our sweet sweet traumatised cowfolks? pray tell what you have dreamt up for them

yeehaw

She sits very still and perspires gently, hands folded neatly in her lap. The clock ticks methodically on the mantelpiece, polished to a houseproud shine and sitting alone on a doily like a butte in the desert; in the visions she and her brother had shared, there had been more indulgences in her home than just the one brass carriage clock, the good kid gloves and the polished Windsor chairs, but that could all wait. Her husband, she had found, was not the type of man to make a great many purchases, and whilst he is unwell she can hardly go about spending money on anything but food and medicine for her poor darling.

There is a cough in the other room, harsh and bloody, and she shifts slightly on her chair. There will be time for that later, anyhow.

For now, she is restricted to sitting here in the front room with her knees together and hair neatly pinned away at the base of her skull as she waits in the oppressive, dusty heat. The wind is blowing from the southwest, carrying desert sands up with it towards the prairie, so there’s no chance of opening a window today to shift the air; in between the resolute, monotonous ticking, she can hear sand tapping at the glass and at the boards like a thousand ghostly fingertips, scratching to get in. But her house is one of neatness and cleanliness and pristine, precise pride, so there shall be no entrance for any ghosts or spirits here.

Noelle salts and burns her choices, careful lest they rise. Danser Town will be no different.

The door behind her opens with cautious, quiet motions - she has become used to the sound over the long weeks of her husband’s terrible illness as she sweeps from room to room without disrupting the patient. She turns and stands in one quick, nervous motion, but she has been sat still too long: it is less pretence than she would like that she sways dizzily, vision spotting for a moment. There is a careful hand under her elbow, but no more, and when she leans into it a little another hand catches her other shoulder to hold her steadily at arm’s length. Noelle recovers herself, eyelashes fluttering, and reaches up a hand to fan at her face. “My, this heat! I do apologise.”

“Indeed,” Williams says tightly, hands lingering about her arms disinterestedly to ensure she keeps her feet. “Will you sit? Or may I fetch you some water?”

“Please,” she says, gesturing through to the kitchen. Williams, politely, waits for her to enter first, to seat herself at the table in one of the good Windsor chairs, to direct him in the pouring of a glass of sharp, flavourful lemonade. He declines to take one himself. “But you must tell me,” she says, sipping her cool drink and watching him through her lashes, “how does my dear Tobias?”

Williams shifts his weight, resting his hands on the back of the seat he also declined to take. “Ma’am, you know I am not a doctor,” he prefaces carefully.

She does know. She would not have let this man cross her threshold otherwise.

He drums his fingers on the wooden hoop and she braces to respond to bad news. “Your husband is getting worse,” he says firmly, eyes fixed on his own hands, “and there is nothing I can do - ah, nothing I can give him that will make him better.”

Her little gasp echoes in the quiet. Noelle pats at her cheeks with a handkerchief; Williams, politely, looks away. “Is there really nothing you can do?” she presses, playing the dutiful, caring wife almost by rote, now. “You are sure - there is no medicine, no-”

Williams’ gaze snaps to her. It is not so much the spitting fury in his glare that makes her recoil, fingers floating defensively to her sternum, as surprise at it coming from this corner. Will Williams has always been small and polite and harmless, prone to tipping his hat politely at people, and listening to old folks gripe about aches and pains, and crouching on rocks in the river for hours to look at plants and fish and things nobody else cares for. She sees him most often swept up in the dust cloud which follows Holden, Morin and McPherson as they roll all unruly about the town, and maybe it’s only in comparison to them that Williams looks so deeply unthreatening - but the man lets little children push him around, so. She does not think it unreasonable that she had not expected his ire.

“I can advise him to take some morphine for the pain,” Williams says, very slow and measured in a voice like banked coals, “and to watch what he eats and drinks. More than that, for either of you, I will not do.”

Noelle feels abruptly very cold. There is no sound but the distant ticking, an occasional violent cough from the back room, and the sand tapping at the glass like so many revenant ghosts.

Dying does not make a universal sound for all folks. You can’t listen out for it, no matter what some preachers might say; ain’t no choirs of angels, no whispering ghosts, no knocking at your chamber door. People die in so many ways, see, and it takes them all different. Sometimes death sounds like gunshots and screaming, sometimes like long, drawn-out silence and rattling, bloody coughs.

And sometimes, death sounds like watch what he eats and drinks. More than that I will not do.

Noelle sits frozen, her fate hanging from threads in this strange, nervous man’s thin fingers. Williams glances at the window, and sighs deeply. He steps around and folds himself into the chair, looking much smaller now he no longer looms over her like some great spindly crow. “Tommy reckoned I never should have come out to attend Mr Lloyd,” he says conversationally, turning in his seat to pour himself a glass of lemonade which he places on the table but does not drink. “He doesn’t like your husband awful much. Some daughter of a friend of an aunt, or something, used to char here before you married, fixing meals and scrubbing the boards and such. Mr Lloyd, he - well. I understand that her sweetheart was the doting type, see, so it shook out in the end, only they had to get her out to his place in the city awful fast and they married in an embarrassing hurry. People’ll always whisper that that baby doesn’t look like his pa, though.” Will pushes his glasses up his nose and leans back in his chair to fold his arms and watch her carefully, trying to work out if she had known that. If that, or something like it, was what excused the little labelless bottle behind the tin of tea. Noelle schools her features and attempts to look more unsurprised than she is. She would have expected something poor of Tobias, but nothing quite like this. She had known no specifics. Williams raises an eyebrow briefly at whatever he finds in her face. “Tommy only let me come see Mr Lloyd because I said I’d look in on you and make sure he wasn’t knocking you about any.”

Noelle raises an eyebrow in challenge, sipping her drink. “Do you worry about that, Mr Williams?”

He doesn’t cower or dodge her gaze, which she doesn’t quite expect. “I worry about plenty, Mrs Lloyd,” he says calmly, “but I don’t worry so much about you getting into a situation you couldn’t get out of on your own. Incidentally, Tommy’s gonna swing by and pick me up in-” he leans the chair back on two legs to peer at the carriage clock in the other room “-well, any time from now, since he’s late.”

Noelle hides a smirk in her lemonade. She must admit to quite liking this side of the town’s nervous naturalist; Holden would likely skin poor Williams if he knew what Will knew, and what Will was doing anyway. It was smart of him to bring a buddy, but it meant that he had known even before today what she was doing, and he had come anyway. “You’ve awful confidence in me,” she says, batting her eyelashes to see what he’d do, “for a little lady on her own. Why, as my husband is ill, I haven’t even got a strong man to take care of me.”

Will’s brow furrows slightly in apparent confusion in response to her slight flirtation. “No, you don’t,” he says, as though unsure what that should have to do with anything.

The surprise of it makes her laugh despite herself, though that does seem to worry Williams a little. He keeps turning the lemonade, undrunk, between his fingertips, making it rattle slightly on the table, and his eyes frequently dart to the clock on the mantelpiece to note how late his friend is. It loosens her tongue somewhat; Noelle is so frequently entirely honest with people, and it is oddly refreshing to stop talking in double meanings and half truths. She wants him to stay longer in this oddly honest space, where she had never really imagined herself being, and tell him so.

It reminds her of talking to Jonah, a bit, even though a man more unlike Jonah than Will Williams there never has been. Everything seems to remind her of Jonah, now that he’s gone.

“I had thought, once,” she says, watching his face but keeping her tone light, “that when a widow I might marry you.”

As expected, Williams looks poleaxed - quite blindsided by the idea. “I - don’t think you would have,” he says stiltedly.

She waves a hand. “Oh, not now, obviously.” She couldn’t possibly marry a man who has something to hold over her. Noelle could rule Will well enough, but - there was that flash of rage at being made her alibi, her dupe, and he could always ruin her.

“No, I mean - I wouldn’t have-” Will winces and tilts his head, uncomfortable. “I’m not - the marrying type, I think.”

Oh. Noelle shrugs; she could have made that work, too, but it would have been a terrible effort to drag him to the altar, and likely not worth it. “And your Tommy Morin - is he the marryin’ type?” she says, laying the implication on thick. “Or is it Finn Holden? McPherson, now, he’d be disappointing an awful lot of ladies, but…”

The blush spreads from his cheeks at speed, turning his fair northern complexion blotchy and red. “All my friends are morons,” he tells her flatly. “Would you marry ‘em?”

Noelle tilts her head to concede the point. “Naw, you always were the best prospect of the bunch.” Will goes, if possible, yet redder. He looks so like a kid, then, that she cannot help it; he reminds her, again, of Jonah when they were younger and running cons smaller than this one just to eat and even though they were the same age they had ever tried to protect one another. She wants to protect Will, now. “I won’t tell anybody,” she says seriously, and his eyes flick to her and squint, examining her face for sincerity. “You can - whatever you do about Mr Lloyd’s...condition. I won’t tell anybody.”

He tilts his head slightly, like he’s listening for something. “Why not?” he says cautiously.

Noelle turns her gaze on the table and her neatly folded hands there. Sometimes she tries so hard to look respectable she worries that it’s sinking in, making her really into those women who sit diminished and demure at their husband’s pleasure.

Tobias would shoot Will himself, probably, without even troubling the sheriff.

“Because I reckon a person ought to be punished for what they’ve done, not what they are,” she says eventually. “That seems...fair.”

Will nods sharply. “Suits me,” he says, a little too quickly. “But I’m not going to tell anybody about your husband, either.” Now it is her turn to cock her head at him, mirroring like a sharp-faced eagle competing for prey. Will shifts his glass again. “I don’t figure that many people are going to miss him awful much,” he says thoughtfully. “As, as long as no-one else falls ill like him, then, I suppose that’s all right. And - sometimes - people do bad things to bad people. Maybe, maybe he dies, and another aunt’s friend’s daughter has only the kids she wants to have with the man she wants to marry. Maybe you live unbruised. Maybe - maybe you pay your bills at the general store quicker than he did and German can afford credit for a starving family whose kids survive the winter.” Will throws up his hands. “I don’t know.”

Noelle looks at him for a long moment. “But you want to believe it.”

He sighs massively and leans forward to prop his elbows on the table and bury his face in his hands. “God,” Will says, the word muffled and cracking down the middle, “yes, I want to believe that. Of course I want to believe that.”

Noelle reaches out carefully and places her fingers on his forearm lightly. “Will, I think - whatever you’ve done, I-”

He leans back, her fingers falling away as he scrubs at his face. “I haven’t done anything,” he says sharply. “That was - that was someone else, and long ago, and - nothing.”

She doesn’t believe him. She doesn’t even get the sense that he believes himself; rather, that this is something he is attempting to persuade himself is true. But over the sound of the sand on the glass there comes the sound of boots and spurs, and Tommy Morin hollering for Will to come out quicksmart, for something’s gone terribly wrong and his expertise is required, so she never gets to ask. She supposes he wouldn’t tell her anyhow.

Will scrambles to his feet, collecting up his leather bag with a sigh of worried resignation. “Well, ma’am, that’s me,” he says, abruptly all polite once more, and Noelle almost - misses him. The other him, who had been honest and angry and not the moral stickler he had been pretending to be. “I don’t suppose you’ll need me out here much longer.”

“I suppose not,” she agrees, and passes him his hat. What she’ll do then, well… But certainly, Tobias Lloyd does not have long left to keep troubling Will Williams.

He turns to the door, but the wind suddenly picks up; the whole house is briefly sandblasted, the shingles drumming with the vicious, sharp stones, and Tommy quits his yelling to cough and spit. Williams makes a face which he cannot quite help, and Noelle must take pity.

“Here,” she says, passing him the glass of lemonade he had abandoned on the table. “Seems you might want it out there.”

He glances between her face and the glass and back again. And then, carefully, reaches out to accept it. Will drinks quickly, watching her face, and passes the glass back. “Thank you,” he says softly, and for a long moment Noelle wants to thank him too - for listening, and for believing that she might have the right of it, and for drinking her lemonade.

But then he pulls his neckerchief up over his nose and mouth and departs into the sandstorm, Tommy sparing only a moment to tip his hat at her before grabbing Will’s elbow and continuing to yell through the wind about something having happened to Finn’s wrist during undisclosed activities and now needing bandaging. Will twists over one shoulder to offer her an amused, exhausted look and a brief wave as he is hauled away into the dust, and Noelle stays standing in the doorway to watch them go with sand swirling around her ankles and encroaching into her pristine, proper home.

She leaves the door open a while. She’s never really wanted to be upstanding.

#yeehaw! murder #will 'i can excuse murder but i draw the line at being made an accessory' williams #noelle 'true neutral' underwood lloyd #thanks for the enablement kit ily #a town called danser

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walpurga-nacht-academy · 3 years

Photo

Djinn’s Bride! ~A Celebration of Love~

Part 10

[Walpurga Nacht Academy]

[Djinn’s Lamp]

Rosa: Marcia… and Himalia-senpai… they’ve both been taken out…

Cass: A-A-And we’re up ne-ne-next… Um…

Blanche: This is becoming more troublesome than expected…

Vita: Indeed~ ‘Tis very entertaining~

Rosa: …

Vita: Hm~? Wherefore are you staring at me so demandingly, little rose? Have you been bewitched? My, how charming!

Rosa: Eh?! No, it’s rather… Shouldn’t you go next, Dies-senpai?

Vita: Oh?

Rosa: I-I-I mean… you’re the one who set the djinn’s free after all! No matter how you look at it it’s your responsibility! Marcia’s already paid her due so don’t you think you should too?!

Agatha: Ehehehehehehehe… stupid… amoeba… is… stupid…

Rosa: Geh! Wh-Why’d you sneak up on me like this?! I-If you’re planning to do something, then-

Vita: Now, now, there shall be no need to accuse my cute Agatha of anything~ She is merely too doting~ Are you not, my dear?

Agatha: Heheheheheheheheheh…

Rosa: It’s giving me the creeps! I can’t trust a single word you two are saying! He-Hey! Don’t come any closer!! HEY!

Blanche: A-Agatha! Please restrain yourself! We’re not sending Dies-senpai over!

Agatha: …

Rosa: Huh?! We’re not?! How come?!

Blanche: … It would be counterproductive.

Rosa: Counterproductive?

Diana: It’s not sure that Vita will cooperate.

Vita: My~

Rosa: Th-That...Now that I think about it, Dies-senpai tends to be ruthless and self-centered. If she was sent to seduce this djinn, then I wouldn’t put it past her to sell us out for her amusement. Maybe she’ll put us all in hourglasses too!! No!! I don’t want that!! Anything but that!! Please!!

Cass: Mi-Mi-Mi-Miss Morgainne! Ple-Please calm yourself!

Diana: Rosalia.

Rosa: Eh? Di-Diana?

Diana: Don’t lose your head.

Rosa: Ugh… That is easy for you to say… I still can’t help thinking of senpai’s cruel face as she watches us be imprisoned in those glass cages… She’d definitely be laughing!! I’m sure of it!!

Vita: Fufu~

Rosa: I told you!!

Diana: That is just who Vita is.

Rosa: You’re too accepting, Diana!!

Blanche: In any case. We should figure out how to resolve this situation… First-

Cass: U-U-Um…

Blanche: Hm? Cassandra? Is there something wrong?

Cass: I was wondering a-a-about the ne-ne-needle…

Rosa: Huh? The needle? What about i-AAAAAAAAAAAH!! THE NEEDLE!!

Blanche: !!!

Rosa: THE NEEDLE! STUPID MARCIA TOOK THE NEEDLE WITH HER!! WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO NOW?!

Blanche: Ca-Calm yourself, it’s not- huh? Where… Just a moment… But it was…

Cass: U-U-Um, Miss Dion?

Blanche: My sewing kit… It’s gone…

Rosa: HA?! YOUR SEWING KIT?! IS THAT REALLY THE THING TO BE WORRIED ABOUT RIGHT NOW?! REALLY?!

Blanche: … The rest of my needles were in there.

Rosa: Huh?

Blanche: Sewing kits usually carry more than just one needle. Mine had around twelve of them, all customs made for better use and endurance… And made of iron too…

Rosa: … Eh. Eh? EEEEEEEEH?!

Blanche: !!! Rosalia, please cease your shout-

Rosa: We have to find that kit!! Where is it?! Where is it?!

Agatha: Hehehehehehehehhe...

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Morgainne!

Rosa: If we all look for it together then surely-!! Come one, don't just stand there gaping!! Our life is at stake, you know?!

Agatha: Ehehehehehhehehe…

Blanche: … Rosalia…

Rosa: It’s not here!! It’s not here!! Not here!! Aaah!! Why am I the only one searching?! Don’t you guys care about escaping anymore?! Hey!!

Agatha: Ehehehehehehhe…

Diana: …

Rosa: Agatha!! Stop laughing!! It’s not helping at all!! We gotta work together if we want to… get out… so…

Agatha: Ehehehehehehehhe…

Rosa: ……………………………. Hey, Agatha……….. What are you holding there… ? That thing in your arms….. that looks like a small box….. and has a cute pattern on top of it…. Isn’t that….

Agatha: The… sewing… kit… ehehehehhehe…

Rosa: You’re not even trying to hide it?! What’s with that?! Why didn’t you say you have it from that start?!

Agatha: Ehehehehehhe…

Rosa: Aaaah! Whatever!! I’m too worked up to care anymore!! Now!! Hand it over so we can- HUH?!

Agatha: Ehehehehehehe…

Rosa: Wh-Wha-?! Why are you keeping it away?! Hey!! Agat- STOP KEEPING IT WAY!! AGATHA!!!

Agatha: Ehehehehehehe…

Blanche: A-Agatha! We need those needles to escape this place! The only thing that can intimidate a djinn is an iron needle!

Agatha: I… know… that’s… why… I’m… keeping… it… as… leverage…

Blanche: … Leverage? Do you mean…

Diana: Blackmail.

Agatha: Yes… ehehehehhe…

Rosa: YOU EVEN ADMITTED TO IT?! NOT TO MENTION SO EASILY?!

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Voisin!

Agatha: I… don’t… want… to… go…

Blanche: Huh?

Agatha: This… situation… is… annoying… and… I… don’t… want… to… be… involved… with… it… That’s… why… I’m… making… you… chowders… deal… with… it… instead… ehehehehehe…

Rosa: SO WE’RE SACRIFICES?! EH?! EEEEEEH?!

Agatha: If… the… stupid… amoeba… got… trapped… in… the… hourglass… it… would… be… funny… ehehehhehehehe…

Rosa: ME AGAIN?! You’re always looking to pick a fight with me!! What is up with that?! It’s gotten really troublesome already!! Do you even have a reason for it?!

Agatha: ……………………….. The… stupid… amoeba… is… annoying…

Rosa: HUH?!

Agatha: Always… shouting… and… prattling… and… demanding… and… still… she… has… lots… of… friends…

Rosa: E-Eh? Wh-What’s that got to do with anything?! And it’s not like I have lots of friends…

Agatha: The… stupid… amoeba… appears… on… TV… a… lot… and… she’s… friends… with… the… shiny… chowder… from… Night… Raven… and… the… cheery… chowder… from… Royal… Sword.... and… the… other… chowders… They… all… clamour… around… the… stupid.. amoeba… It’s… annoying…

Rosa: Huh?! Isn’t this too unfair?! So you’re just jealous that I get along with Vil and Neige and the others?! What kind of reason is that to hate somebody?! You’re just projecting your own insecurities on me in the end, aren’t you?!

Agatha: …………………..

Rosa: I’m right, aren’t I?! GRRRR! To think that all along your attitude towards me was for such a petty reason!!

Agatha: ………………………………….

Rosa: You’ve got nothing to say?! Huh?!

Agatha: ……………………………………. The… stupid… amoeba… is… too… loud…

Rosa: HUH?! ARE YOU REALLY STILL GOING FOR IT?! AAAAAAH, THEN-

Djinn: Hm? What’s going on here?

Rosa: !!!

Agatha: !!!

Djinn: Could it be… are you guys actually…

Rosa: Crap! He’s looking straight at Agatha! He’s gonna see the kit! If that happens we’re doomed!

Djinn: Don’t tell me…

Agatha: ……………………………..

Rosa: A-AGATHA!

Djinn: Hm?

Agatha: ……………….. ?

Rosa: Don’t you think enough is enough?!

Agatha: ……………………. ?

Rosa: Even if you beg a hundred times, I won’t back down! This guy is mine!

Blanche: ?!

Cass: ?!

Agatha: ……………………..

Rosa: That’s right! It’s time to face the truth! You two are obviously just not a good match! So please be reasonable and concede!

Blanche: Rosalia…

Vita: My~

Diana: …

Agatha: ………………………………………..

Djinn: NO WAY! You guys are actually fighting over me?! Hahahaha! Man, this is such an ego boost! I was kinda making it all up before, but to see it actually happen… FANTASTIC!

Rosa: Phew, he bought it.

Djinn: Then! Fluffy hair!

Rosa: !!! Ye-Yes?!

Djinn: How about we make it your turn?

Rosa: Uh, uh, wa-wait.... I… I’m not ready yet! The kit is still in Agatha’s hands. If I go up there now, I’m gonna be defenseless for sure! Ugh, what should I do...

Diana: …

Rosa: Di-Diana?! What are you doing?

Diana: It’s my turn.

Rosa: E-EH?

Agatha: .....................

Djinn: Hm? Wo-Woah! That’s some serious presence you’ve got there, tiger! Kinda like a predator on the prowl, wild and exotic. I LIKE IT!

Rosa: Di-Diana!! Why… why are you…

Diana: A pack makes sure that the litter is protected.

Rosa: Huh?!

Agatha: ……………………

Cass: Do-Do-Does that mean… that…

Blanche: To Arrow-senpai, Rosalia is more like a cub that needs to be looked after…

Vita: The lioness does have such a pure heart, after all~

Rosa: Grrrr! I know I should be grateful that Diana stepped in to save me, but I can’t help but feel a little peeved that she thinks I need to be rescued!

Blanche: You’re looking a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, if Arrow-senpai has decided to take charge then I think we won’t have to worry about this anymore.

Rosa: Ah! You’re right! If it’s the Diana who can keep even Dies-senpai and Himalia-senpai in check then this will be a breeze for her! We’re gonna be out of here in a flash!

Cass: Mi-Mi-Mi-Miss Arrow is truly in-in-incredible!

Rosa: Hooray! I’m gonna totally forget my frustration with you, Diana, and cheer you on! Di~a~na~! Di~a~na~! Di~a~na~!

[Several Minutes Later]

Djinn: [TIME’S UP!]

[CLICK]

Rosa: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH?! NO WAY!! WHY?!

Blanche: Th-That…

Cass: O-Oh no! Even Mi-Mi-Miss Arrow!

Agatha: GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Rosa: HEY!! DON’T LAUGH!! SHE’S IN THERE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO SAVE OUR SKIN! SHOW SOME GRATITUDE!

Marcia: BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Rosa: YOU TOO?!

Marcia: I mean- Bwhahahahahahahah! You gotta admit, ahahahhaha, Diana’s number really was too much! Pffffffffffft-

Rosa: I… I guess… but… pffffffft…

Agatha: Stupid… amoeba… is… laughing… too… even…. though… she… told… us… not… to....

Rosa: A-Ah! Ugh, that’s true…

Djinn: Seriously! You girls stop laughing! That was completely unexpected!!

Blanche: That’s Arrow-senpai’s usual however…

Djinn: THE USUAL?! No, no, no! That won’t do! I can't have a wife who’s that wild! I thought the exotic allure was really attractive but to think that it would be to such an extent… No! I want a wife that is civilized after all! None of that weirdness I’ve just gone through… Aaaah, my ears are still ringing in terror…

Cass: U-U-Um… This is bad… We lo-lost Miss Arrow too now…

Blanche: Yes, it’s a heavy blow for us, but… I think we might pull through after all.

Rosa: Huh? What do you mean? Do you have a plan, Blanche?

Blanche: Somewhat. Taking into account just what happened, and the incidents with Marcia and Himalia-senpai, I think I’ve been able to come up with a strategy.

Rosa: A stra-strategy? Amazing!

Blanche: It’s… not such a big deal. I just… Ahem. Let’s not get distracted. We might only have one shot at this, so we have to give it our all. Do you understand?

Rosa: Gulp! Yeah! I got you!

Cass: U-U-Um! Yes! I’m re-ready too.

Vita: Fufu~

Agatha: Eheheheheh….

Blanche: I… I suppose this will have to do… Now listen here our plan is…

back | next

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #walpurga nacht academy #rosalia morgainne #blanche dion #marcia pyroeis #diana arrow #cassandra delphinne #vita dies #agatha voisin #djinn's bride #djinn's bride event #twist #twist oc #twisute #twisute oc

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oliverstarked · 4 years

Text

where I belong

[PG-13, 3.4k words]

"Buck's not sure of the exact moment that he knew Eddie was it for him, but it’s been that way for so long now it’s become a part of who he is. He used to be good at pretending his feelings didn’t exist, but he’s so tired these days."

A little bit of introspection, a lot of idiots in love.

[read on ao3]

The ocean is so beautiful at dawn.

Under the soft pink-orange sky the water looks bruise-purple, whitecaps leaving foamy trails on the sand. The sun is only just peeking over the horizon, edging towards another gorgeous LA day. But before that begins, before the hustle and bustle and wailing sirens, Buck sits on the beach on the cold sand and feels caught in a moment so peaceful, so nice, just the squalling of gulls and the gentle crash of the waves for company.

He pushes stale air out of his lungs and breathes the fresh in deeply. The chill feels good, raises goosebumps on his skin and reminds him that he’s alive. A reminder he’s needed a lot lately. He’s been struggling, even though his leg has healed, even though the tsunami is months behind him, even though his relationship with his 118 family is better than ever and he has no reason to be struggling. Nightmares come and go, cold sweats, little niggling thoughts that burrow their way into his brain throughout the day.

He tries not to talk about it. There are so many people who have it worse than him and he doesn’t want to become some kind of social… leech around his friends, constantly draining them of energy by going on about his issues. You’re exhausting , Eddie said to him once. Buck knows it’s true, knows he takes inches and runs them into miles. His heart may be in the right place, sure, but he doesn’t know when to shut up, when to slow down. If there’s one thing his lawsuit mistake has taught him, it’s that his actions, his selfishness, has consequences on those around him.

So what if he has bad dreams occasionally? He’s not a kid, he can look after himself. It’s more important right now that he’s there for his friends: asking Bobby how Michael’s doing, bridging the relationship between Chim and his brother, being there for Maddie always, listening to Hen talk about how Nia is settling in, being whatever Eddie needs to stop him doing stupid things again. It doesn’t leave a lot of room for his own problems.

It doesn’t matter. That’s just what Buck does for the people he loves.

The warmth of the sun creeps onto his face as it rises higher, prickling his skin. Buck squints into it, seeing nothing but gold, then sighs and gets to his feet. He brushes sand off the seat of his pants before slowly turning and making his way back up the beach.

At least he gets to go to work.

Eddie’s getting changed when Buck walks into the locker room, and Buck manfully pretends he can’t see the miles of bare skin on display. Hen is sitting on the bench, laughing at something Eddie must have said, and it’s easy to grin at the two of them and say, “Well, good morning.”

“Hey,” Eddie smiles, shrugging into a t-shirt, thank god.

“Buck, I have to show you this.” Hen holds her phone out, a video paused on the screen. Buck takes it, taps play. It’s Nia, holding onto Denny’s hands and bouncing up and down in time with her blonde curls, screeching in delight as a catchy pop song plays in the background.

“That’s pretty damn cute,” Buck says. “When do I get to meet this li’l nugget?”

“Soon,” Hen tells him, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “It’s a lot for her, the social worker says we need to introduce new things and people gradually.”

Eddie, tucking his overshirt into his belt now, says, “Well, whenever you guys need a babysitter, hit us up. Chris and Denny can play and Buck and I will dote on that gorgeous girl.”

Hen snorts, looking between them. “Should you be volunteering Buck for that?”

Honestly, it didn’t even occur to Buck that he wouldn’t be there. The automatic assumption on Eddie’s part too makes him feel warmer than he did five minutes ago.

“Hey, you know I’m down,” Buck beams, “you just name the day.”

Hen squeezes his arm as she heads towards the door. “Thanks boys, we will definitely take you up on that.”

When she’s gone, Buck finally moves towards his own locker to start getting changed. Eddie is still there, tapping away on his phone. Buck wonders if he’s texting Ana . If they’ve even reached the ‘exchanging numbers’ phase yet.

“Hey, man, you wanna grab pizza tomorrow night? You, me, Chris and Mario Kart at my place?”

“Sure,” Eddie agrees, hardly glancing up, definitely distracted. “But, uh, Chris won’t be there, he’s got that overnight field trip at the observatory tomorrow.”

Damn, Buck should have remembered that. Christopher had been chattering excitedly about it for a couple weeks now. Eddie had mentioned it several times too, although decidedly less excitedly and more in worried-dad-mode.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Well, in that case you definitely gotta come over. We can drink beer and watch a movie that doesn’t involve some kind of talking animal.”

“Sounds good.”

He’s still typing. What is he doing, writing a goddamn article? Who could he possibly have that much to say to?

Buck takes a breath, remembers he’s not being a selfish asshole anymore and gets changed quietly. Ana sounds like a nice person, she’d probably be good for Eddie. Buck’s feelings, his stupid feelings that he’s shoved so far down they make him feel a bit queasy more often than not, shouldn’t even factor into it.

“Are you okay?”

Buck startles at Eddie’s question. He’s not on his phone anymore, but looking straight at Buck, a little crease in between his eyebrows.

“Fine… why'd you ask?”

“You look tired.”

“Yeah. I, uh, got up early to go for a run on the beach. Anyway, not even eyebags could ruin this handsome face so you shut your mouth,” Buck blusters with an exaggerated wink and a bit of swagger as he closes his locker.

It works, and Eddie rolls his eyes. “So glad that your ego remains unaffected.”

They argue playfully back and forth as they head up to the kitchen together and by the time they sit down to plates of Bobby’s French toast, Buck has all but forgotten his weird start to the day.

Luckily, work keeps them busy. Any downtime they get is spent either stuffing their faces with food, showering the grime and sweat away, or trying to catch a few minutes of sleep. The entire twenty-four hours passes without major incident, unless you count Chimney tripping on a firehose and falling ass over teakettle on the freshly-waxed station floor. They’re still laughing about it as they get changed to go home the following morning, exhaustion making it hard to stop.

By the time he gets back to his apartment and collapses into bed, Buck’s tired enough that falling asleep is the easiest thing in the world.

He wakes late in the afternoon, hot and sweaty from the sunlight pouring in through the windows. He showers, eats a sandwich, and texts Eddie to ask what time he’s coming over.

Some sort of clarity must have crept in while Buck slept, because his head feels a little clearer. Still, he wonders what it means that a clear head feels like some kind of miracle these days. He thinks it means that he might need to talk to Frank again.

Buck grabs his phone and fiddles around on it until he pulls up his contacts. Frank’s name is sitting there right underneath Eddie’s. Before he can think about it too much, he calls and makes an appointment for his next day off. Part of him feels that old anxiety come back, worries that he’s slipping backwards instead of moving forwards, but another part of him is ultimately relieved. He doesn’t have to worry about burdening Frank, it’s his job to listen. He’s not allowed to be exhausted by Buck and his issues.

By the time Eddie arrives not long after seven, Buck has cleaned his entire apartment, gone grocery shopping to get that beer that Eddie likes, and watched a Nat Geo documentary on bears. It’s been easy, simple, and he’s feeling okay.

Eddie lets himself in with a smile and a tupperware container, and even though they only parted ways that morning, it’s still good to see him. “Hey, sorry I’m late, Ana called just as I was leaving.”

And just like that, Buck’s stomach sours.

“She called you?”

“Yeah, I asked her to update me on Chris. She said he’s good, that they’ve just eaten dinner and he’s with his friends.” Eddie pauses, makes a face. “Guess that means I should stop worrying, right?”

“So you guys just talked about Christopher?” Buck asks because he’s an idiot who likes to torture himself.

Eddie frowns, putting the tupperware on the kitchen counter. “Yeah. What else would we talk about? I emailed the school his overnight care plan this morning and she just wanted to reassure me. Anyway, Abuela made you tamales, shall I put them in the refrigerator or d’you wanna have them with the pizza?”

Buck still doubts that any other parents are getting personal calls from their kid’s teacher, but it makes him feel better knowing that Eddie’s only thought is the well-being of his son.

Maybe this whole Ana thing is something he should talk to Frank about, too.

“I’m going back to therapy,” Buck blurts, his brain to mouth filter nonexistent. “I have nightmares. I stopped talking about it because I thought I was being selfish but it’s fucking me up so. Yeah. I’m going back to therapy.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Buck silently begs him not to make a big deal out of it, and is relieved when all Eddie says is, “Good. Thank you for telling me. The tamales?”

A mildly hysterical laugh bursts out of Buck. He comes forward and wraps his arms around Eddie, so fucking relieved that after everything, he still gets to have this.

Eddie goes with the moment gracefully, pats him on the back a few times, and when Buck pulls away, Eddie leaves a hand on his shoulder and says, “I’m here for you. I know I haven’t always been great at that before, but I am. You don’t have to do this by yourself unless you want to.”

And Buck knows it’s true, can tell by the fierce determination in Eddie’s eyes, and thinks that maybe this means he’s not so exhausting to deal with after all. That maybe Eddie was exhausted with himself just a little, too.

“We’re good, Eddie,” Buck says honestly. “I’m gonna call the pizza place, you take those tamales and the beer over to the couch.”

They’re one and a half movies, two pizzas and half a dozen tamales in when Buck opens his mouth and “So are you and Ana dating?” comes out of it.

Eddie chokes a little on his beer. “No? I don’t really know.”

It’s not quite the answer Buck was hoping for. “How can you not know, man?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Eddie leans back on the couch until he’s looking up at the ceiling, like he can’t meet Buck’s eye. “She’s nice, and pretty, and good with Chris. I dunno, Buck. It feels like it could go somewhere?”

Buck swallows hard. He knew it. He should definitely have waited to have this conversation until after he’s seen Frank though, because he has no goddamn clue how he’s supposed to be the supportive best friend when every fiber of his being is burning with jealousy. He’s not sure of the exact moment that he knew Eddie was it for him, but it’s been that way for so long now it’s become a part of who he is. He used to be good at pretending his feelings didn’t exist, but he’s so tired these days.

But what he has with Eddie and Christopher right now is the best thing going on in his life — he’s not going to risk losing that.

“I wouldn’t even know how to ask her out,” Eddie continues, laughing a little at himself. “Out of practice would definitely be an understatement, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

Buck mirrors Eddie’s position, staring up at the beams under the loft. “I think you just say ‘would you like to go out with me’, Eddie. It’s not that hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” Eddie snorts. “I bet no girl has ever turned you down.”

“Ha, you should speak to Joe Levinson from high school,” Buck tells him. God, he thought Joe was so cute. He never told anyone, especially not his parents, and Maddie was off at college, but he used to trail around after Joe like a lovesick puppy. “We’re talking the crush of all teenage crushes here, man. I was so gone on Joe and it was senior year and then prom was coming up, and I—”

“Oh no,” Eddie laughs, “you got turned down?”

“I got humiliated,” Buck grins. “I thought I’d go classic, y’know? A love note in the locker, little hearts doodled on it and ‘I really like you, will you be my prom date?’ written in glitter gel pen. Imagine my surprise when the next morning my note is not just in Joe’s locker, but on the front of every single locker, in the halls, the cafeteria, even the damn teacher’s lounge. He made sure the last few weeks of high school were not good ones.”

“Wait…” Eddie tips his head sideways, confusion written on his face. “Joe was a boy?”

Shit. Buck isn’t ashamed of being bisexual at all, but it occurs to him now that he hasn’t actually told anybody besides his sister. “Uh… yeah?”

“Did you just come out to me?”

Buck shrugs. “I kinda forgot you didn’t know?”

Their faces are pretty close at this angle, their heads cushioned by the back of the couch. Eddie doesn’t look hostile or disgusted though. He looks thoughtful.

“That was really brave,” he eventually says, quieter than before. “I can’t even imagine asking a boy out in high school.”

There’s something in the way he says it that gives Buck pause. “Did you want to?” he asks carefully.

“It wasn’t an option.” Eddie doesn’t sound sad, just matter-of-fact. “Besides, I met Shannon in college. And I really loved her, Buck. There were… occasions, while I was in the army, but I never acted on it. I’d made vows, they meant something to me.”

Buck can’t look away from Eddie’s face, pulled in by the wide-eyed openness and the thought that he didn’t know this about Eddie — that they didn’t know this about each other.

“And now?” he asks, not sure why he’s whispering.

“Now I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly. He licks his lips. Buck couldn’t tell you which of them moved first but all of a sudden their lips are touching, pressing. It’s dry, a little chaste, but most definitely a kiss. Buck shifts, brings his hand up towards Eddie’s face, and barely touches his jaw before Eddie is springing backwards, shock written all over him.

“Buck, I’m sorry—”

“No, dude, that was all me, I was totally over the line.”

“We just got — caught up in the moment,” Eddie says, and Buck’s not sure which of them he’s trying to convince.

“Yeah, all that talk about dating and my tragic high school trauma. Woulda been weird if you hadn’t wanted to kiss me,” he smirks, aiming for cool and cocky and probably missing by several miles.

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter that’s more panic than amusement. They’re quiet for a minute. Eddie’s knee is still pressed against Buck’s, warm and solid. Buck doesn’t know what’s happening here but he knows he really liked kissing Eddie, can still feel his lips tingling. He knows he’s not going to lose Eddie over this though, can’t lose him. He’ll do whatever it takes for that not to happen.

“It was a moment,” Buck concludes, for both their sake. “Moment’s over.”

Eddie’s throat visibly bobs when he swallows. “Right. Y’know, I should probably take off. Before—”

He cuts himself off. The tips of his ears go bright red. It takes every ounce of willpower Buck has not to ask him ‘before what?’

He follows Eddie across the apartment to the door, but he really doesn’t want this to be weird when they get to the station in the morning. He lays his hand on Eddie’s forearm and asks, “We’re okay, aren’t we, Eddie?”

To his relief, Eddie smiles and it seems real. “Of course, Buck. Nothing’s changed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he lets himself out, the door closing softly behind him, Buck can’t help thinking what a bad liar Eddie is. Of course something has changed. Everything has changed. That kiss will hang over them for the rest of their days as partners — as friends. You don’t just ‘accidentally’ kiss your best friend and then act like it didn’t happen.

Buck wanders into the kitchen, fists his hand in his hair, scrapes them over his face, repeatedly bangs his forehead into the cupboard door. Stupid stupid stupid .

Restless, he clears away pizza boxes. Drops empty beer bottles into the recycling. Seals the lid on the tupperware and puts the remaining tamales in the refrigerator. Shuts off the TV — how didn’t he notice the movie was still playing?

He’s wiping down the kitchen counters when there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie’s standing there on the other side, looking just as wide-eyed as he was when he left.

“Hey,” Buck says uncertainly, ignoring the swoop in his stomach. “You forget something?”

“Yes,” Eddie says and he takes a step forward, holds Buck’s face in his hands, and crashes their mouths together.

This kiss is nothing like their last.

Eddie is demanding, relentless, tongue tracing the seam of Buck’s lips straight away until Buck opens up for him and everything gets hotter and wetter and so much more amazing. His own hands, which had been floundering in surprise, land on Eddie’s waist and Buck walks him backwards until his back hits the open door and closes it with a bang. He leans into Eddie with all his weight, pushes him against the wood, shoves their hips together and groans the filthiest sound he’s ever made into Eddie’s mouth.

It’s incredible, feels absolutely perfect. Buck moves his hands, slips them under the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt, finding warm skin and hard muscles and a stomach that trembles when his thumb flicks over a nipple.

With a gasp, Eddie pulls back and smacks his head against the door. Buck removes a hand and places it gently behind Eddie’s head to cushion it, kissing a lush apology to his lips.

“You feel so good,” Eddie mumbles. “Buck.”

Buck kisses down Eddie’s neck, their stubble rasping, his lips fluttering over Eddie’s thundering pulse. He shoves their hips together some more — once, twice, and again because he can’t stop — and he can feel Eddie’s dick through their jeans and he’s so turned on he can hardly breathe.

“We should talk,” he says to Eddie, breathlessly, “but first we should fuck.”

“Best idea you’ve ever had, Buckley.”

A grin spreads across Eddie’s face and Buck copies it, kissing him again because he just can’t help it and grabbing his hand, dragging him away from the door and up the steps to the loft.

Two orgasms, one set of clean sheets and one shower later, Buck feels brave enough to say, “I want this every day forever.”

Eddie’s nearly asleep, head right next to Buck’s on the pillow, one arm slung across Buck’s stomach. He cracks open an eye and presses a tiny kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth.

“Guess we’re on the same page then.”

“I don’t want you to date Ana.”

The other eye pops open, trademark Eddie Diaz exasperation all over his face. “Buck.”

“Just checking!” Buck laughs, drawing patterns on Eddie’s arm. “Y’know, I’m still gonna need therapy.”

“I’d be worried if you didn’t. Unless sex really is a magic cure.”

Buck tries to smile but instead finds himself softly saying, “I might have a nightmare.”

Eddie kisses him again, for longer this time, then shifts closer and nuzzles his nose into Buck’s temple, his hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep, Buck.”

They settle in, warm under the blankets, and Buck closes his eyes, falling asleep quick and easy, between one breath and the next.

#stupid tumblr mobile deleted the original post when i tried to add a tag so reposting!!!#buddie #buddiefic #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #9-1-1 #911 fic #911 fanfic #*fic #useralie #casually tagging alie in everything as i timidly venture into this fandom

98 notes · View notes

megalony · 4 years

Text

My bad side

This is a murderer! Ben imagine that is a little different from my other imagines and involves Ben with a family. I hope you all like it.

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Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have four boys together who love and dote on him, despite his antics and ruthless ways. But no one wants to get on Ben’s bad side, especially not the neighbours.

Enjoy.

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"Fine, when your dad gets back you can tell him what you did." (Y/n) snapped the words at her eldest son, knowing the kind of look she was going to receive and the answer she would get in response. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Theo look over his shoulder at (Y/n) in such a way that reminded her of Ben when he was angry or giving her some kind of silent message. The eight-year-old's eyes were an image of Ben's matching emerald orbs and his hair was roughly the same colour as Ben's if a little bit lighter and he had the same nose too.

Theo didn't give her an answer, much to (Y/n)'s surprise but the expression on his face was enough to tell her that he didn't want to be the one to tell Ben what had happened when he was at school.

Kids were a funny subject when it came to Ben because when (Y/n) first met him, she was so sure she didn't want kids with him and that he wouldn't want any in the first place. With the kind of job Ben had, running a boxing club with dodgy dealings happening on the side, it didn't seem like a good combination. Ben wasn't the kindest of people and he had a liking and tendency to hurt others, him having kids wasn't what would be associated with him.

But Ben had surprised (Y/n) because he wanted kids and they made him a totally different person that (Y/n) had never seen before. She was used to seeing Ben's different attitudes and sides, she saw how loving he could be, how cruel and careless he could be towards her and she saw how much he liked to hurt people. But when they had Theo, Ben seemed almost like any other person in the world, he didn't seem like the ruthless, careless person she had married.

None of the boys knew what Ben actually did for a living, they knew he was a boxer and he owned a club and that was the extent of their knowledge. They had no clue what really went on behind the doors of the club and (Y/n) wanted to keep it that way, but that didn't mean the boys were clueless. They knew that Ben could be mean, they had witnessed him shouting and they were brought up in a loving but strict environment because that was how Ben was. He loved all his boys more than he could comprehend, but he had rules at home just like at work.

If the boys really messed around at home or at school, they never wanted Ben to know about it because they knew he would tell them off and not feel bad about it. Theo had had to be picked up early today from school and he didn't want Ben to know, but he knew (Y/n) would tell him.

(Y/n) watched Rowan and Finn hang up their coats before they wandered into the living room presumably to go and watch tv.

"Shall we go get you changed?" (Y/n) questioned to the toddler sitting on her hip who was almost fast asleep.

Beckett's tired eyes managed to flutter open halfway, his pupils looking up at (Y/n) as he nodded before he settled his cheek on her shoulder and closed his eyes. (Y/n) rubbed her hand up and down his back as she walked down the rather narrow hallway to reach the stairs so she could go and get Beckett settled down for a nap.

With Ben working at the club today, (Y/n) was doing the school run this afternoon since he dropped the kids off this morning. Theo and the twins needed picking up from school and Beckett needed picking up from nursery which seemed to have tired Beckett out today to the point he wasn't even asking where Ben was. The two-year-old was attached to Ben at the hip, he always wanted Ben around and wanted to know where he was if he wasn't home.

"Mum..."

(Y/n) got halfway up the stairs before she heard Theo's rather worried voice calling out for her causing her to sigh and turn around to head back down the stairs that were very narrow and steep. (Y/n) hated these stairs, they were the kind of stairs that curved up to the right around the corner near to the top and they were big enough to make them hard to walk up when carrying anything. They were also a hazard with the boys when they were running around the house and messing about because they had all fallen down them at one time or another.

"What's up?" (Y/n) walked down the hall and headed into the kitchen, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Theo who was stood in front of the sink on his tiptoes so he could look out of the window into the back garden.

"There's someone in the garden."

A bolt of fear rushed through (Y/n) like she had been struck by lightning as she forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. Whenever there was a stranger at the door or someone hanging around the street, all (Y/n) could think of was that the police had caught wind of even half of the dodgy shit that Ben got up to at the club and they were coming for him. Ben promised when they had Theo that none of his business would be brought home, (Y/n) didn't want anything from the club even being talked about in front of the boys. But (Y/n) could never shake the fear that something would happen.

Resting her free hand to the back of Beckett's head, (Y/n) hurried over to where Theo was stood, leaning over him to look out of the window onto the garden. Her mind started to race as she wondered what on Earth she was going to do. She couldn't very well hurry out into the garden with Beckett asleep in her arms if this was a burglar or some idiot from the club who was now on Ben's bad side. But she couldn't just stay locked up in the house and hope whoever it was would leave.

She would have to call Ben at the club and get him to come home.

A mixture of emotions rattled through (Y/n) when she narrowed her eyes and realised who it was in the back garden. It was their neighbour, Nigel.

Turning to her right, (Y/n) quickly settled Beckett down into his highchair at the kitchen table before she unlocked the backdoor and headed out into the garden. He had to of used the back gate to get into the garden meaning he would have needed to reach over the top of the gate and undo the bolt on the other side.

Both (Y/n) and Ben didn't get along with Nigel at all. He was a bit older than they were but he was just someone that irritated both of them. He thought he had the right to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted and he had no problem with being rude and arguing with (Y/n), as long as he knew or thought that Ben wasn't around. Ben had the ability to frighten anyone with just one scowl which came in handy where Nigel was concerned.

"What are you doing?" (Y/n) folded her arms over her chest as she rose her brows at the older man who was stood on the right next to the fence that separated his garden from hers.

"Adding something to the fence." The way he spoke made him sound so ignorant and the way that he cast his eyes over to (Y/n) made her feel like she was trespassing on his garden instead of the other way around. He looked and sounded like he thought he had the right to walk into her garden whenever he pleased.

(Y/n) took a moment to look over him, taking a deep breath as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that he had just waltzed into her garden to do whatever he wanted without even having the decency to ask.

"Right, so you've unlocked my gate and walked into my garden without asking me and just started to do whatever you want to my side of the fence?" (Y/n)'s tone was condescending and the look she gave him was one he clearly didn't like from the way he scowled at her and seemed to almost snarl like a dog. He didn't have the right to just walk right onto her property and do what he pleased.

"It's my fence." He looked at her as if it was an obvious reason why he was in her garden before he continued with trying to hammer a nail into the fence. "I can add what I want, and I don't like your kids breaking it with their football either."

With a deep breath, (Y/n) reached over and snatched the hammer from his hand to prevent him from continuing with whatever he was trying to do to the fence that wasn't broken and didn't need any fixtures on (Y/n) and Ben's side. "I don't care if you own the fence, me and my husband own this house and I don't want you just walking in whenever you want. In case you're blind, the goalposts for football are over there and this fence is nowhere near broken, now please leave."

(Y/n) used the hammer to point in the direction of the gate to tell him to leave. She knew he owned the fence but that didn't give him the right to come round to her property and start doing whatever he wanted like this. He had trespassed and didn't even think to ask or think he should ask. And (Y/n) didn't like the way he was referring to the boys as if they were some kind of nuisance. The boys played a lot of football and games outside but they had proper goalposts, they didn't kick the ball against the fence like he thought and it was in perfect condition, it wasn't breaking.

When Nigel went to grab the hammer back, (Y/n) took a step away from him and continued to point with it. If he kept this up she would tell Ben and then he really would have an argument on his hands.

"Leave." She repeated in a stern tone, locking eyes with him for what felt like the longest time until he finally relented and roughly snatched the hammer from her. He snarled as he passed her, roughly pushing his shoulder into hers as he passed.

(Y/n)'s eyes widened when she heard him muttering 'fucking bitch' under his breath along with a few other words she could just about hear as he walked over to the gate. Her body jumped in fear when he whacked the hammer against the fence before he slammed it shut so hard the hinges could be heard squeaking from the force.

"Inside boys, I'm coming." (Y/n)'s voice shook as she headed over to the house, noticing the twins and Theo were stood in the doorway, unsure whether to be afraid or not. Reaching her hands out, (Y/n) ruffled the twin's hair to silently let them know it was okay before she went to get Beckett so she could settle him for a nap.

"When's daddy coming home?" Finn tugged on (Y/n)'s hand when she came down the stairs after settling Beckett in his room. The six-year-old watched as she looked at her watch before looking back at him as he pulled her into the living room.

"About an hour, sweetheart. You two carry on playing your game, I'm gonna go and make dinner."

She watched Finn head over and sit down in front of the tv with Rowan, the twins both settling to play a video game as Theo was laid out on the sofa reading a book. (Y/n) smiled at the way that it looked like one boy was sitting next to a mirror with how they were mimicking one another's actions. Their curly blond hair was also cut the same way and shaved short at the sides, making it almost impossible to tell them apart, except for a few freckles and characteristics here and there.

Making her way into the kitchen, (Y/n) busied herself getting out a few pans and some veg from the fridge before something caught her eye in the back garden. Nigel had left some metal brackets on the floor that he must have been trying to hammer into the fence post. Shaking her head, (Y/n) wandered over to the back door and headed out into the garden.

Grabbing the few metal brackets and the few nails already placed into them, (Y/n) didn't think twice before she threw them over the fence into Nigel's garden. If he wanted to walk right into her garden without asking when he clearly thought she was out, then she was going to throw his stuff back into his garden without asking or caring where they landed.

(Y/n) couldn't wait for Ben to get back home so she could tell him what Nigel had done. Ben had been wanting an excuse to go round and put the frighteners on Nigel for a while now, he seemed to get on the wrong side of Ben without even doing anything, now he would have a reason.

Heading back into the kitchen, (Y/n) thought nothing more about it as she put the radio on and started to make dinner.

It felt like a shockwave rattled through (Y/n)'s body about twenty minutes later when a sudden and very persistent banging startled her and caused the knife in her hand to scratch against the chopping board. (Y/n) could feel her heart trying to break out of her chest as she quickly set the knife down before walking past the stairs and down the hall to reach the front door. She wasn't very surprised when she opened the door to find Nigel on the other side, his face red and his eyes blazing with anger.

"What do you want?" (Y/n) kept the door open only a small crack so she could look out but he couldn't look in, she didn't trust him at all.

"You stupid bloody woman, you've broken them."

His words washed over (Y/n) and confused her until he held up the brackets that were bent and covered in soil, but they were nowhere near broken. She rose her brows at him and scoffed, ready to close the door on her rude neighbour.

"Then you shouldn't have wandered into my garden and left them there, now go away." (Y/n) attempted to close the door in his face but he stuck his foot in the way which she knew must have hurt when she tried to slam the door closed. She could feel her heartbeat rocketing in her chest as her stomach sucked inwards. If Ben was home this wouldn't be a problem, their other neighbours on the left didn't even speak to them because they had seen how rude Ben could be if he was provoked.

Turning her head, (Y/n) looked over at Rowan who was hovering beside her wondering what was happening. He clung to her leg causing (Y/n) to let go of the door with one hand so she could hold onto him and reassure him, her eyes casting over to the living room to see both Finn and Theo stood in the doorway watching.

"I own the fence I can do what I fucking well like. Bloody bitch-"

"Move that foot before I break it. If my husband sees you harassing me and my boys, you'll have a bigger problem to deal with than me." (Y/n) kicked his foot to get it out of the way before she slammed the door shut, quickly turning the key to lock it so he couldn't try and force his way inside if he would even go that far.

(Y/n) tried to stop herself from shaking when he rammed his fist against the door, his word and profanities echoing through into the house causing Rowan to cling to her leg tighter.

"Alright baby, it's alright." (Y/n) hushed, leaning down to kiss Rowan's forehead before she took her phone from her pocket and handed it to Theo. "Call your dad and see if he's on his way back yet." (Y/n) knew that if Ben wasn't on his way home yet he would soon hurry home once Theo told him what was happening. She didn't care if Nigel went back to his own house in a second or in five minutes, she wanted Ben to come home now because he was scaring the boys and that wasn't fair.

Unhooking Rowan from her leg, (Y/n) speed-walked back down the hall and hurried out the back door so she could go to the gate connecting the front-drive with the back garden. Reaching the gate, (Y/n) pushed the top bolt across even though it was clear Nigel had reached over it earlier and unlocked it. She then moved the dustbins over so they were propped in front of the gate, (Y/n) didn't want to take any chances of him trying to get into the garden.

Nigel had been warned by Ben before to stay away from all of them because he had shouted abuse at (Y/n) a while back and Ben wouldn't stand for it. But they had only just moved into the house so Ben hadn't been as ruthless or as menacing as he would be this time around.

The moment (Y/n) stepped back inside she winced at hearing Beckett crying, the shouting must have woken him up. When she walked through into the hall, the twins and Theo were still stood relatively close to the door, watching through the frosted glass as Nigel continued to shout profanities but he wasn't hitting the door anymore.

"All of you in the front room now please." (Y/n) pointed to the room before she hurried up the stairs to go and see to Beckett. "I'm here baby, it's okay, daddy's on his way home now."

Reaching over, (Y/n) picked up the sobbing toddler who was rubbing at his tired eyes, unsure what was happening or why people were shouting. Settling Beckett against her chest, (Y/n) pressed her lips to the top of his head as she gently bounced him up and down in her arms, swaying him to try and settle him down again but she knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

As she bounced Beckett in her arms, (Y/n) slowly walked over to the window and looked out, a relieved expression pulling at her lips as she felt her chest filling with butterflies when she spotted Ben's car pulling up in the drive.

The moment Ben stepped out of his car and shut the door with a bang, he noticed that Nigel's voice disappeared when Ben had heard him shouting from down the street. He could feel his hands twitching, desperate to curl up into fists and punch the lights out of the slightly older man who was now stood like a statue, watching Ben intently.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ben's voice bellowed and his eyes narrowed as he stormed over to Nigel who turned like he was about to walk away and go back to his own house which is what (Y/n) had asked him to do many times over. Ben paid no mind to the fact that he could see Theo and the twins peeking out the living room window, there was a storm raging inside of him and he wasn't relenting yet.

Ben had been on his way home when Theo called him and it both pained and angered Ben to have his son call him up, frightened and saying that their neighbour was banging on the door harassing their mum. He shouldn't have to try and calm down his kids on the phone and tell them he was coming back to sort out a neighbour with a screw loose.

"Where are you going? I haven't even started with you yet." Ben reached his hand out and grabbed Nigel by the shoulder, pulling him towards him with so much force Nigel stumbled. He was shorter than Ben and he didn't have nearly the same kind of build Ben did since he was a boxer by nature, this gave him a very big advantage.

"Get off me-"

"I've just had a phone call from my son saying that there's a man outside my house shouting swear words at my wife and trying to barge his way into my home. Now it's very clear that you're the fucker scaring my family so don't even try and walk away from me." Ben pushed Nigel up against the side of the house, scuffing his back and arms against the bricks as he pinned him there with his arm across Nigel's shoulders and neck to keep him in place.

Normally Ben loved to inflict fear onto anyone crossing his path but he felt it shouldn't be necessary to scare his own neighbour away from trying to terrorise his family. This almost felt like a waste of time, a lesson that he shouldn't have to be teaching but it was a lesson that he was going to make sure that Nigel understood.

"I don't know why you thought you had the right to start shouting abuse at my wife or calling her a bitch but let me tell you now that if you do that shit again, I will kill you and that is not a joke. You go anywhere near my wife, I will know about it. You dare frighten any of my kids like that again, you won't live the next day. Now stay the fuck away from my house because you haven't seen my bad side yet and trust me, you don't want to."

Ben felt the urge to grab his gun from where it was tucked into the back of his trousers but he refrained, he didn't want nor need the police crawling around the house if anyone saw or told them that Ben had the gun. He knew his words were more than enough to ward Nigel away because he had gone as white as a sheet and he was beginning to sweat. He was frightened beyond belief and when Ben forced his fist into Nigel's stomach, he almost fainted on the spot.

Pulling back, Ben let him fall to his knees and watched with a look of pleasure and a glint of evil in his eyes as Nigel didn't waste any time trying to recover. He started to crawl away before managing to straighten up and stumble over to his house.

The moment Ben walked inside he was bombarded by the boys wrapping themselves around him like vines. He crouched down so he could hold the three of them in his arms, closing his eyes to relish in the hug but he could still feel the anger bubbling away inside of him when he noticed they were all lightly shaking. He kissed their heads longingly before he pulled back and slowly rose to his feet, his eyes instantly locking on (Y/n) who was stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"You boys go into the front room, I'll be there in a sec." Ben ruffled Finn's hair when he was reluctant to move away from him, managing a smile at the younger twin before he followed his brothers into the living room.

Advancing over to (Y/n), Ben gently took her face in his hands and she knew he was inspecting for any cuts or bruises or any small signs that Nigel had done anything other than simply shout at her. If he had hurt her and Ben found out he would be straight round there and (Y/n) knew Nigel would be lucky to be alive.

"Are you okay? What the hell was he doing?"

"I'm fine I promise, we're all fine... I'll tell you later." (Y/n) brushed her thumb over the back of Ben's hand before she pushed herself forward so she was burrowed into his arms. Smiling when she felt his arms tightly enveloping around her and his hand tangling into her hair at the back of her head. She felt his lips pressing to the top of her head but she could feel how heavy his breathing was and how fast his heart was beating, they were small telltale signs that Ben wanted a fight. He loved fighting, he craved to fight because he craved winning and seeing his opponent defeated.

"Alright, anything else I need to know?" Those words were said in a much different sense than (Y/n) had heard them before. Those words were ones she had heard when she had done something and tried not to let Ben find out, they were words that had once frightened her but were now only meant in a kind and informing way. He was only pondering if there was anything else that had happened.

"Theo got sent home early today... he's been fighting." (Y/n) wrapped her arms tighter around Ben's waist when she felt his muscles tense.

Ben was a boxer, fighting was what he did for a living, alongside his other dealings that the boys didn't know about. But he didn't want the boys trying to fight or copy him because they were young, Ben especially didn't want Theo trying to pick fights at school. Theo looked like Ben and he wanted to be like him but Ben didn't want him doing that, he didn't want any of his boys finding out what he did or wanting to box like him because it wasn't something that would suit any of the boys in the way it suited Ben.

"Theo!"

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #murderer! ben #dad! ben #BoRhap

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griffinsandpeacocks · 4 years

Text

GET UP & WRITE! Section 5: “If you were logical, you would’ve killed me already.”

Slowly over the years Erestor marvels at how dedicated Glorfindel is with courting him, the elf had sung for him and had lead him out on dates far into secret glades in the valley to lay beneath stars and hold each other as they listened and watched. It was beautiful to see that the elda had not changed. He was still a sweet caring vanya that would dote on those he loved and put his all into his passions.

Erestor was nervous but had dug out the rings he’d somehow managed to hold onto. The rings that were meant to be worn on their wedding day. He wonders at the possibility. Could he let go of that shadow of fear and fall into Glorfindel’s arms? It wouldn’t ever heal the pain he still had at the fact Ecthelion would not be there, but maybe, just maybe he can swallow that pain and let in this happiness he’d been denied and was now denying himself.

“Erestor there is a diplomatic issue I would like your help with.” Elrond says across from the distracted darkling who blinks looking up to see Elrond he places the rings back in his desk drawer and stands.

“We’ll discuss it in your office?” He asks and the other noldo nods. They walk and Elrond has a dark look on him and Erestor wonders. Elrond rarely looked like this unless something was going on that was terrible. When they enter his office Elrond goes to the window and stares out across the Valley for a long moment.

“I’ve gotten reports that some diplomats we sent out never reached Galadriel. I want you to go the same rout they did and find out what happened. I sent out three of them with two archers as their escort they all had former combat experience and I felt they would be capable. Something happened and I want to know what.” Elrond says turning to look at Erestor who knows what the elf will ask of him he nods and bows.

“I am a arrow ready to loose at your command.” Erestor swears bowing and Elrond sighs looking down.

“I do not ask this lightly, old friend, but please find our missing people, with the mercy of the Valar they’ll be alright.” Elrond sighs and Erestor stands straight and nods and folds his hands behind him.

“I’ll need the route, can you deliver them to me while I prepare to ride out?” Erestor asks and Elrond nods.

“Shall I send anyone to tail you?” He asks and Erestor paused.

“Anyone who knows how to hang back and can come back here to gather the needed troops, Glorfindel can’t hear of this he’ll insist on coming with me.” Erestor says and Elrond nods.

“I foresaw that and sent him on a boarder patrol out at the western most boarders. He’ll be no where near you as you pass out of our lands.” Elrond says and Erestor nods pursing his lips and he walks out he let’s his assistant know he’ll be leaving on a task and the younger elf frowns in worry and nods.

“Is it the missing scholars?” He ass and Erestor paused looking at him in shock, “One is my brother.” He answers and Erestor’s hands clench.

“I shall find them, worry not.” Erestor says and he smiles shakily and nods wishing Erestor swift and safe travels. Erestor hopes so too. He gathers clothes for the journey and hides his smaller hide-able blades on his person and braids a pick low into his hair and hums softly as he removed the circlet and wrote a small note to Glorfindel and left it pinned to the door it was short merely saying he was off on a simple errand for Elrond and would return within a few days all things willing.

“Erestor this is the route they took.” Elrond says laying the map down before quickly sweeping off to go take care of other matters and Erestor looks over it folding it in his pocket and gathering some simple provisions and taking a nondescript horse of a pale brown coat and he rides out an archer he knows follows on a sable horse. He let’s distance grow between them but he does tell Erestor he’ll be as swift as death should anything go amiss. Knowing the elf Ersetor had smiled and agreed. The elf had been old not one of the few to survive Gondolin but he was a descendant of one.

“I believe you mellon.” He says softly and they follow the trail. Erestor knows it’‘l be outside their lands. He isn’t comfortable as he travels and he can see his shadow but knows a human would not. He does signal they drop back further though as the map is with them. He hopes it is not a group of elves doing this but on the chance he doesn’t want them both caught.

It’s once he’s far along the road while he’s setting camp they strike. Several bleed out of the shadows and he sighs softly. They’re far from skilled, he wonders how they managed to get the first group. Then again his gut says something is off. They’ve surrounded him yes, but perhaps it was different with the others? He looks around at the humans and grits his teeth wanting to let loose scathing words.

“I see I am out numbered. Is there a reason for this?” Erestor asks having one hand on his sword he’s scanned out the archers of the group but he can see a few hiding in trees. They’re clever enough he’ll give them that much, if their prey was humans.

“Come with us and no one gets hurt.” The seeming leader says and Erestor hesitantly released his hold on his blade he lifts his hands palm out.

“Lead the way then.” He says and they close in ushering him behind the leader as others gather up the camp site and he whistles and the horse bolts. He gets a sharp blow to his head for that one and hissed but grit his teeth and bears it. He walks on and eventually they reach a campsite nested into a cave he sees the five he looks for at the back all bound and knelt the archers look worse for wear but the scholars seem well enough. Minor bruises on their faces one sports a split lip but that’s all. The archers look like they’ve taken a couple beatings.

“Lord Erestor!” One gasps sitting up struggling with what Erestor hears are shackles the chains rattling as the elf strains but a sharp kick in his chest sends him sprawling back. Erestor growls low in his throat.

“A lord eh? An who should we make the random out to?” The leader chuckles and Erestor narrows his eyes.

“You lot think being this cruel will help your case once my Lord hears you have me and want payment? Lord Elrond would sooner pin you all with arrows that stand for this.” He hissed pretending to be what humans perceived of elven high standing, arrogant and unskilled in war, more likely to frolic in flowers than properly handle a sword.

“That so? Then maybe we should make sure he knows any my lads die then it’ll be your head he’ll receive?” The man says and Erestor growls but when one of the scholars cries out Erestor’s attention snaps to see one brigand has the elf by his hair and has a blade to his throat.

“Calm, if you hurt them we will all die fighting and what good are we dead?” Erestor says looking between the Leader and the blade fearing for the younger elf. The man lowers his blade and the elf’s thrown face first forward into the cave floor. The leader chuckles.

“Smart one. Shackle him with the rest we should look at our options boys. They’ll fetch a fair price on any market for sure, but what can we get out of a lord for another?” The leader asks. Erestor is roughly shoved down onto his knees his sword taken and set aside somewhere and he’s left with the five. The main group walks out to jest leaving only two guards a little ways away. Erestor looks at the other who all look angry and upset.

“How did they get a hold of you?” Erestor asks softly keeping an eye on the guards. The archer that has already spoken up pursed his lips.

“There’s a woman with them, she pleaded for help saying bandits were attacking her home and she begged us for help. We walked into a trap.” He explains softly. Erestor sighs softly. That explained it. They were cocky with him because he was alone.

“I’ll get us all out of here. If not there’s help on the way already.” Erestor says softly seeing that the one thrown to the ground earlier is crying softly. Erestor takes a deep breath and sighs as right now he holds no sympathy for the humans. He hears a slight commotion and takes the chance. He tilts his head and sits back on his heels he manages to get a hold of the pick and slowly gets it into the lock and manages to click open the cuffs as the guards look away and start towards the cave entrance Erestor unlocks the others swiftly and sees his sword he grabs it and leads them out taking down the guards swiftly from behind before they could respond. Thankfully the other’s are able to arm up with their things as they’d been with Erestor’s sword.

“If you were logical, you would have killed me already.” Erestor states as he emerges from the cave to hear the leader bragging to the group that had come to help that if they got closer he’d signal his men to kill Erestor and the others. He spins around and growls launching at Erestor who does a simple sidestep bringing his blade over the man’s throat in a quick swift motion and he stumbles and falls. The others are all relived and thank Erestor for seeing that the others were rescued and that they’d see them safely to Galadriel’s realm from here and that he could take the mare he’d ridden out on back if he liked.

Though the scholar that had been beaten the most opted to return with Erestor to Imladris. No one blamed him. He was scuffed up pretty badly not only a split lip but a nasty bruise forming on his forehead and Erestor had a feeling an issue with his wrist and there was a cut on his throat. He found out it was his assistant’s brother. He was younger and had gone to get some training and learn a bit but now was returning and Erestor felt bad. This young elf had training sure but he had no real combat experience.

“I’ll help tutor you once we return if your anything alike to your brother you’ll do quite well. I can have our librarian Dillothon teach you more as well depending on what you seek to do.” Erestor says and the younger elf flushed and looks down upset.

“You’ve already so many duties you need not trouble yourself teaching me, Lord Erestor.” He says and Erestor snorts and assures him he needed the distraction as he’d had too much free time as of late regardless. When they return the younger elf is whisked away, his assistant, Gloron comes and smiles seeing his brother safe and thanks Erestor and warns him Glorfindel had returned from the patrol as it had been called short due to foul weather and had been pestering him on Erestor’s whereabouts. Erestor thanked him quickly ran to Elrond’s office and gave a verbal report before heading to his rooms and washing up. He isn’t shocked Glorfindel is waiting on the chaise when he comes out.

“I heard from the soldiers you’d gone out to bring back some missing Scholars.” He says and looks tired and Erestor sighs and goes to the other and kneels before him.

“Aye, and all of us are now safe. The others went to Galadriel as they had intended and one, my assistant’s brother, chose to come back with me. I was in no grave danger a scout trailed me and would have gotten help as soon as it was needed. I was captured less than a full day.” Erestor comforts and Glorfindel nods and pulls Erestor into his lap trying to calm the hissing voices in his mind that said Erestor could have been hurt. He wouldn’t damage Erestor’s pride, his meleth was more than capable. He just... Worried.

Word count: 2,118

#GET UP & WRITE!#GET UP & WRITE! CHALLENGE #Lord of the Rings fanfiction #Glorestor #Glorfindel #Erestor #Elrond #OCS #humans being trash #Galadriel

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neoyi · 4 years

Note

I hope your okay with another ask! “:D I hope this is a simple enough ask; Any general headcannons for all the knights? (or at least your favorites?)

Simple ask indeed, but general enough for me to fill a textbook. Admittedly a lot of my headcanon is centered on either Propeller or Specter Knight because I’m not nearly as invested in the rest as I am those two. But still, what headcanons do I have? Okay, I’ll try and write one headcanon for each knight so I don’t go overboard.

1.) King Knight: ...is smarter and cleverer than he looks and acts, but has a problem of not applying himself because he’s so delusional and one-tracked in his goals. King Knight is very determined and we see in spite of a doting mother, he doesn’t lack independence. Look in his room and you can get an idea of what he does. He works out, he draws, and he’s handy with tools. He cares for his rats! They may be his subjects, but if his pets aren’t kept in good condition, then they’d be dead weight to him, so he knows how to properly care for his animals. It’s possible he likes animals; he shows more affection to spinwulves than he does anyone else. And of course, if you should choose, he can Joustus, a game that generally requires strategy. King Knight is kind of like that guy who has a degree in like engineering or something/ It he could just utilize it properly, he could get him a very good job, and a cushy life, but he rampantly chooses not to because he’s that much of a BONEHEAD. He’s dumb in a different way and it’s holding him back.

2.) Plague Knight: ....and Mona does not want children. They knew right off the bat and decided then and there once they were officially dating. They aren’t the type of people to be parents and kids are...well, little things running around ruining science experiments and throwing shit around. Besides, Plague and Mona already throw shit around, why should those little bastards have all the fun?

The closest the two come to having “kids” is creating imperfect clones of themselves as they get older. Most of them were merely tasked to finish what they themselves started and keep mad science alive. As centuries pass, the clones would keep creating more clones to continue their work. Each clones were a little less perfect than the other, and in time, they’ve more or less reduced to Blorbs. Specter Knight, still around centuries later, occasionally would check on them (if not at first to keep them away from the public since they carried Plague and Mona’s chaotic desire to raise Hell), but soon decided they were now harmless enough to be left alone to their own device.

3.) Treasure Knight... and Propeller Knight are rivals and they both haaaaaaaaaate the other’s occupations in the pettiest of ways. They’re pirates, so they automatically have a rapport, but Treasure Knight finds it insulting that Sky Pirates are A Thing. Pirates belong in the SEA. They fight giant squids and bury treasures deep in the heart of lost lagoons and islands. SKY Pirates? What the heck is even a SKY pirate? What does a SKY Pirate even do? Where’s the big ocean with all the Mystery and Scary Ass Sea Creatures? They fly with birds???? There’s Mountains?????????? They don’t even have GIANT squids, just medium-sized Sky Squids. And Floating Islands? That’s just cheating.

Every single one of their meeting inevitability end with the two having a pirate match to secure the most gold or engage in a duel. Sometimes Treasure would win some, other times Propeller would. They would keep this fierce competition until they died.

But

That doesn’t mean neither one disrespected each other. From Treasure’s personal perspective, Propeller Knight is many things - frivolous, fancy, and shallow - but he is still a PIRATE. Sky Pirates are Dumb, but they’re still PIRATES. Propeller Knight goes by his own code that Treasure personally doesn’t get, but he respects the hell out of him because Propeller sticks by it and uses his piracy to achieve his goals. When push comes to shove, they can, have, and will shake hands through mutual kinship.

There is one thing both Treasure and Propeller can 100% agree on though: Subterranean Pirates are the WORST. Why is that even a THING?!

4.) Mole Knight: ...is not just digging in the Lost City because he “claimed it” as his own nor because it’s a good place to practice his superb digging skills, Mole legitimately and genuinely is curious about the history behind it. He’s an archeologist; a man thirsty for knowledge. He knows a lot about history in general, but his expertise lies in the Lost City.

Post-Shovel of Hope, he learns to share his findings with others. His obsessive need to keep the ruins for himself dissipates over time and he learns the value of teamwork. There are others like him who shares his love for knowledge and past civilizations; Mole is incredulous to know there are other working theories he never considered! In the end, it is not his pride that mattered most to him, but his passion to uncover and preserve this beautiful, ancient world. After all, he has ancestral ties to the Lost City and the best way to keep that alive is by sharing his knowledge with others.

6.) Tinker Knight: ...once invited his friend Propeller Knight over to show him something he invented. It would be handy because he needed a way to record his many inventions. He shows off a projectile that displays a moving image on a screen. He calls it...”Moving Pictures!” Propeller is amazed; this could, indeed, store information in ways the written word cannot.

Propeller asks him after, “Tinker, my good friend, have you considered using this Moving Picture for purposes other than recording?”

Tinker is puzzled, “What more could I use it for?”

Propeller chuckled, “Perhaps you can devise a story out of it. Like a stage play, only using these, er, what did you call them? “Celluloid”, to capture a story. We could have words written on the screen after a person speaks since it’s silent.”Tinker is flabbergasted. No, he only intended it to be used to archive his inventions and ideas. Why would anyone want to make a story through his Moving Pictures?Propeller, not listening (of course) sighs, “And you cannot call it Moving Picture, it’s too mouthful. Come on, Tinker, you who speak so pragmatically, would know to shorten it. Perhaps we can call it “Movers.” Or “Mov ‘ems.” Oh! I know, “movies.”

“That is a bad idea. I do not like it at all.” Tinker scoffed.

“Well, it was worth a shot, “Propeller shrugged, “How goes that rocket blueprint of yours? When will my dreams come true; that I shall one day reach the Moon?”

7.) Polar Knight: ...My headcanon is that he is too secretive to have a past that could be told... Also I haven’t really thought too much about this guy. Get back to me when I play his story mode in Showdown.

I do personally believe he is NOT related to Shield Knight though. He likely knew her, but only through proxy from Shovel and Black Knight.

8.) Propeller Knight: ...has always had a beautiful face. He takes great care to ensure it looks nothing less than perfect. But living a life as a pirate comes with drawbacks. One day, during a time of great grievance in his life, Propeller Knight comes face-to-face with a foe most personal. The battle is horribly one-sided for Propeller was at his lowest. He lost concentration and with it, an eye.

The first few days wearing that unsightly eye patch was too much to bare. He had to readjust to his newfound vision for one, but his face - no longer perfect. He questions so many things in his life; he’s made so many sacrifices, so many enemies, and lost a few good people in his life under various circumstances. Him losing an eye seemed paltry in comparison, but it symbolized the decisions he’s made and he has to live with it. Who is he? A Pirate? A Prince? Neither or Both? Does he fight against the corrupted nature of the Rich and Powerful even though he once lived among them?

He can’t answer them now. All he can do is slowly let the scars heal. He will not take for granted the friends, family, and love he has in his current life. They will be his rock and he will carry them to the winds. Propeller puts on his eye patch and stands up. He can still look at the setting sun.

9.) Shovel Knight: ...I don’t think he’s a fish person. But I’m boring and think all the knights are human.

10.) Shield Knight: ....spent some time suffering nightmares. She would wake up and remember that she hasn’t been trapped for a while. The Enchantress is a distant memory, but the events are still recent that she still endures these horrid flashbacks. Shield Knight imagines she’ll never really get over them, but her determination is strong and she knows little by little, the nightmares are becoming less and less of a occurrence.

Recently, she’s been taken to gardening. Shovel introduced it to her. They don’t really have a home since the two are always on the go, but that little farm house Shovel vanished off to years back still remain. So they often return and plant new crops. Shield found it patronizing and difficult at first, unsure what Shovel saw in it and how it could help her. Now she finds it therapeutic.

Nowadays she can go alone and pick out fresh carrots and potatoes without Shovel at her beck and call (so she lets him sleep in a bit.) It feels good. It feels peaceful. She could get used to this.

11.) Black Knight: ....I imagine he’d be the type to sacrifice himself so Shovel and Shield can be happy. Maybe one day he does exactly that. It also meant saving the world as well. Black Knight regrets a lot of things, but this he does not...

12.) Specter Knight: ...”You will not remember me centuries from now,” He proclaimed one day. For one who was always sure of their relationship, this was a particularly alarming moment of vulnerability from Propeller.

“What?” Specter Knight tilted his head in confusion.

“You once told me you shall always carry me in your heart; that way you will remember me long after I’ve passed on,” Propeller elaborated, “But be real. Undead immortal or not, you cannot think to remember who I am thousands of years from now. It will be so long and you will have done so much by then.”

“Propeller...” Specter was incredulous and frankly, kind of hurt. Why would Propeller assume this of him?

“It is alright, you are not obligated to do so. I want you very much to live a wonderful life long after I am gone,” Propeller smiles, “Make friends, have adventures, help people....fall in love again. It is alright if you forget me because you will have a life fulfilled.”

Specter is silent and for a while, it seemed believable what Propeller said would be true. He lowered his head, then remembered he was sick of it, sick of feeling sad when it took years to learn how to be happy. He stared intensely at Propeller and sternly told him, “No.”“ Excusez-Moi?”

“I will help people, I will make friends, I’ll go on grand adventures, and yes, maybe I will fall for another centuries down the line, but you are a damn fool if you think I will forget you,” Specter clutched his chest, “Thousands of years from now, if I am still wandering this strange planet, I will still remember you.”

Propeller looks at his lover, stunned. He is touched. This is the kind of grand romantic gesture he lives for, but he tears up not out of joy, but somberness, “...I appreciate the thought, Donovan, but it’s alright if you cannot keep this promise. I’m just saying.” Specter sighs and wraps an arm around his husband.

~*~

Ten thousand years, the sun is red and the planet drying. Very little life exists, and Death walks collecting the last remaining souls. He eyes the massive star, forever looking like a malicious red sunset (he loved the sunset...) Soon, it would go supernova and perhaps, perhaps he can finally rest for good. Then he can be with his loved ones.

Wind is rare nowadays, but whenever he feels a breeze his way, Death knows who is watching him.

He has not forgotten him...

#shovel knight #specter knight #propeller knight #order of no quarter #neoyi talks

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crmediagal · 4 years

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I Have A Lot of Thoughts...

Okay. I just got back from seeing TROS. Bearing in mind that I already knew the main spoilers involving my precious boy, Ben Solo, and my beloved ship Reylo, I still have So. Many. Questions. And a flippin’ series of disappointments to whinge about, so get ready.

!!! WARNING: #TROS SPOILERS AHEAD !!!

Lets start with the main and, for me, most important factors: Reylo and Ben Solo

At the end of the day, if Reylo wasn’t ever intended to be end game, I could have lived with that. I’ve shipped whatever the heck I wanna ship and written those ships in fandoms I’ve loved for years, regardless of their basis (or more often, not) in the canonverse. I’d have survived if there was no kiss at the end.

Back in early 2016, when people were still speculating that Ben and Rey were related, I was writing them as lovers and doting parents, so, erm, again, for me, the ship wasn’t contingent upon them becoming canon in order to hold legitimacy/meaning. It shouldn’t for anyone, really. Ship whatever you wanna ship, guys! Love them regardless of screen time or lack thereof!

That being said, I will cherish That Moment™ forever when the Reylo shippers got a glimpse of what this incredible coupling could have been. And in the actual canon material, no less. That’s more than I'd have ever expected to receive and, frankly, was enough for me to be satisfied.

HOWEVER.

I was fully invested in this trilogy from start to finish for Ben Solo. And that is where I've been most letdown, disheartened, and pained.

At the off, sure, Kylo Ren made for an interesting archetype “villain” in TFA, but the moment we learned of his true identity, the Bad Boy™ appeal, for me, melted away. I fell in love with the tortured young man who had never really had the freedom of choice; who had the burden of war heroes for parents and a royal bloodline that traced back to Vader; who was abandoned by his family and left to navigate the enormity of his powers and abilities on his own. I was taken with Ben Solo’s troubled, many-layered complexity and this character took on a whole new meaning for me after TFA.

Like so many other Ben Redemptionists, I desperately wanted to see Ben Solo free of the torture he’d suffered all his life. And that life wasn’t long in years, unlike Anakin’s. By the end of Anakin’s life, he was more machine than man and middle-aged.

All the more reason that I needed to see Ben redeemed in this story...and allowed to walk freely in the sun.

SW is built on forgiveness and redemption, after all, so why would they not bring Ben Solo back to the Light and take him where Anakin’s story never could go? The groundwork was laid in two films and reiterated in countless interview quotes the creators dropped on us for four effin’ years. Disney and the creators seemed as invested in Ben Solo’s redemption arc as the fans were, so I wasn’t too worried about seeing it come full circle.

Hooooo boy. #MyBigFatMistakeThatIWillNeverMakeAgain

Ben Solo’s redemption, while earned in the last few minutes of TROS, was horribly cheapened when the creators decided to ‘play it safe’ by making him sacrifice himself. It wasn’t romantic and tragic, as I’m sure JJ and the creators were aiming for, but, rather, a Grade F example of very poor, very subpar writing. We got to see Ben for a few moments as himself whilst much of his storyline and importance in TROS was cruelly (and, it would seem, very purposely) reduced in the last film, too, when such plot for his character was supposed to be centre stage.

Less time devoted to Ben’s arc and then killing him off sends so many terrible messages, particularly for kids. You’d think Disney would understand that better than most.

Death is not hopeful. Redemption in the form of a young man, who was barely given the chance to live in Light and Love, dying as soon as his true self was realised isn’t hope. It’s been done before in this saga, as it has in many others, so it just makes the whole play-by-play defeatist and devastating. And after 40+ years of Skywalkers and Solos suffering in this universe, haven’t we ALL had enough of that, JJ? Disney?

They made Rey a Palpatine--a ‘surprise’ that had me actually laughing in the cinema and asking myself nervously, ‘Is this a joke?’--who takes the name of Skywalker to renounce her own bloodline but in the end, JJ, Disney, and the creators still sent us the same damnable, harrowing message: that Palpatine won.

#YIKES. That isn’t hope either, JJ! Disney! ABORT ABORT ABORT!

I thought JJ and the creators would be bolder than this PG-level crap. I thought Ben’s journey would be a true reversal of Vader’s, just as the director himself quoted not too long ago, and what did we get instead? Dusty old tropes and the sour takeaway that redemption will always come at a price rather than at its simplest, most exceptional form: the beauty of a second chance.

In the end, Ben Solo’s never to know freedom from Darkness? He's never to have the opportunity to make right of his wrongs by living in the Light? He's never to grow old? Instead, he’s to die a too-young death in the hands of a woman who actually loves and cares about the role he has to play in this whole saga; perhaps, the only one who cares at that point?

That’s cruel, JJ. Disney. And, again, utterly hopeless.

Hell, Ben’s not even one of the Force Ghosts Rey sees in the last scene of the movie! (A convenient loophole, yes, and the flicker of an opportunity to, perhaps, bring him back but it’s a wildly overlooked mistake if that wasn’t intended by the creators...and I don’t think it was intentional to make him Not There™.)

I don’t get this saga anymore. I failed to grasp the overall message of Hope in TROS. At all. I’m beyond disappointed at the assassination of Ben’s character to give others, who shall remain nameless, more screen time and a beefier storyline which was, frankly, always quite thin to begin with. I feel like I’ve been cheated on...and it hurts so badly to be so letdown by something you’ve loved and supported for so long.

And some other ridiculous absurdities in TROS while we’re still here:

Why was this film ALL about Rey’s lineage, a direction that seemed to come out of nowhere when it was already established in TLJ that her background wasn’t important or crucial to her part in the story? She came from nowhere, so why did this become a central thing?

I’ll admit that I never really cared whether Rey was a Skywalker or a Kenobi or had any given name. I rather enjoyed the idea that she had built herself up from nothing. That was an empowering message, in fact, and a strong one, I think. It was certainly leaps and bounds better than the, ‘HA! GOTCHA! SHE’S PALPATINE’S GRANDDAUGHTER!’ reveal that was laid onto us way too thick in the Final Act.

Ew. Gross. No thanks. I hate it. Take it back. It’s a passe trick to try and pull on the audience at the last minute.

One of many more examples of poor writing by the creators, I suppose.

Also, since when is Finn a Force sensitive? Did I miss something in TFA or TLJ that suggested he possessed that gift? No? Ah. More lousy writing.

Additionally, why does Finn spend the entire movie running after Rey? Why was his romantic storyline with Rose completely dropped and nonexistent in TROS?

It’s almost as if JJ and the creators were giving TLJ director, Rian Johnson, the middle finger throughout the entire finale that was this garbage of a movie. Nice work in undoing all the innovative things Rian brought to the saga, JJ. TROS is even worse™ than the Prequels...and THAT’s saying something.

Why did all the voices of Jedis past speak to Rey but never the helpless Ben Solo who had Palpatine raping his ear from the time he was a baby? It seems sketchy and unfair?

Again, lots of TROS makes little sense. It felt like an entirely separate movie to me--separate from the rest of the saga--and doesn’t wrap 40+ years of this series up all too nicely. It’s anything but. It’s confusing, heartbreaking, and leaves one without much hope.

So...we come to the end of my ramblings and wailings:

Ben Solo was the most interesting, convoluted, and beautifully crafted character from this new trilogy and a true redemption would have served the legacy upon which the SW saga is built--Hope™--so much better, including but not limited to its utilisation in making Han’s death carry meaning. Because his son would have not only returned to the Light but gotten to Live™ and experience it fully.

What a remarkably hopeful ending that would have been...

Instead, we got garbage writing and the redundant SW tropes.

Ben Solo deserved better. JJ and the creators absolutely wasted his potential in this story and I’ll be forever crestfallen..and retreating more and more into my own Ben Redemption fics because to hell with this elementary-level bullsh*t.

Han Solo deserved for his son’s part in his demise to not be utterly pointless at the end because, hey ho, guess what? YOUR SON DIED ANYWAY?!

Leia Organa deserved to not only see her son redeemed but to have that emotional reunion many of us were craving. She had already lost so much, but I guess JJ and the creators decided to just...serve the general more pain in the end. Wow. Rude. Such disrespect. Carrie Fisher wouldn’t have stood for it.

And Rey... My gawd, she deserved better, too. She should never been tied to Palpatine in order to make her seem more important. That grossly underserved her character.

She also should have had her other half. The yang to her yin. The only other person in the entire ruddy galaxy who understood her: Ben. She deserved to not be left alone at the end of TROS, just as she had started in TFA.

I’m going to go work on my WIP Reylo fic now and try to forget TROS entirely.

#ben solo #reylo #reyben #tros #tros spoilers #rey #star wars #i am in pain #i am....so heartbroken

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

Cursed G Pt 16 (Gilgamesh, Hakuno)

Previous Part: One - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

_____

“Well?”

“I’m cooking.”

The man returned from his trip to the bathroom to lean over her shoulder, glancing at the soup in the pot and wrinkling his nose. And, just like that, the peaceful mood was being broken.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he countered. “I merely thought that you would serve a king something worthy of being eaten. I suppose your meager meals will have to continue. I will simply await taking you to Uruk and introducing you to meals that will satisfy a stomach.”

“I think you’ll be fine.”

He still whined, all the way up until she had the food in bowls and the two of them were once more wrapped in blankets in the living room. Try as she might, she still ended up pressed against his chest once again when they were done eating. Her eyes were closing slowly on the view of the mindless television.

She woke up what seemed like moments later.

Birds chirped from outside the window. She could see the sun on the horizon once again.

A pair of arms were around her waist, her body pressed into the mattress as Gilgamesh lay nestled in her chest. His hair had drifted over his eyes a bit as he lay there with his mouth open, giving the subtlest of snores.

His weight was a bit more than she was accustomed to in bed, but it felt nice. It felt very nice.

Her lips met his forehead softly before she glanced at the clock.

Sunday afternoon…

Of course it was Sunday afternoon. She’d fallen asleep for a bit.

Her eyes closed once more, her body shifting a little in bed only to be yanked back under the man close by. When he pulled her in, she wrapped her arms around him. She pressed herself as much against him as he did her.

Those red eyes were opening, his face moving closer to hers once again.

How many times had they done this, she wondered quietly, feeling his lips press to hers. His mouth moved slowly, as did those hands on her chest.

“You slept all day again,” he murmured.

She hummed a bit.

Hard not to; she was content in her mind right now. The bed was comfortable. She had nothing happening, nothing stopping her. There was a pair of lips moving nicely against her own.

“Hakuno,” the man over her breathed.

His hand was moving between them, finding her legs and parting them.

Rather than thinking, she simply wrapped her legs around the man’s waist and listened to him chuckle. His body was moving to loom over her. She could feel a hand stroking gently, making her give the softest of moans...

And then the door was thrown open.

“HAKUNO!”

She screamed.

Gil yanked the blankets over them.

There was more shrieking as the woman in the doorway threw the door closed.

“SHE’S HAVING- GEEZ! AND WE CAME ALL THIS DAMN WAY!”

Someone was laughing in the distance. There was rumbling, something broke in the other room as another person was whistling.

“Who the hell was that?!”

Gilgamesh glared at the door, holing her to himself.

There was no need for questions like that though.There was only one woman who would be bitchy enough to complain after barging into someone’s room like that. Only one, currently dating Cu, somebody would dare to be that arrogant about entering another’s room that loudly.

It was obvious.

“Gil…” Hakuno glanced up at the man, finding him still hovering over her. “Gil, I have to-“

“Go.”

He didn’t even try to argue. She slipped from his arms, grabbing one of his shirts on the nightstand and slipping through the door.

Rin and Cu Chulainn were already in the midst of bickering as Rani and Sakura stood nearby. Cu was in the midst of pointing out about entering rooms and Rin was lamenting naked people being naked. From the sidelines, two women watched as the couple got after one another, both sighing.

“I knew we should have simply called out,” Rani argued.

“We didn’t know if she was here,” Sakura pointed out.

“What are you all even doing here?” Hakuno asked.

Rani and Sakura glanced over at her, both of them wincing a bit.

“I got worried,” Sakura explained. “I wanted to invite you out to eat, but we called a few times and you kept going to voicemail. Emiya said your boyfriend- ah, I mean- your fiance, is a bit rude so we got concerned and borrowed Emiya’s key.”

Sakura glanced around as she said that, frowning more. “Where’s G?”

“Dozing in my room,” Hakuno pointed out. “Cu! Rin! Guys! I’m not doing anything!”

Rin huffed, turning her attention over to her.

The others glanced over at her as well.

No.

They were all looking behind her right now. Their eyes were on the man who was no doubt standing just behind her person.

“Everyone seems to have been able to enter your home without permission,” the man purred, eyeing the lot of them. “I don’t seem to recall an open invitation being given.”

“Rin was worried about Hakuno,” Cu explained. “Sakura snagged the house key from Emiya.”

“And you didn’t inform them that I was here?”

Gilgamesh made it sound like he was some great comfort and protection.

Hakuno glanced over her shoulder at him, watching that almost bored expression that was currently making Cu Chulainn falter a bit.

“Have you tried stopping Hakuno before?”

The man smirked. “Typically, I have found Hakuno enjoys not stopping... It’s one of our many mutual interests.”

No, she didn’t need to hear this. The man was ruining her reputation for sure. Already she could see Sakura looking her over with great interest. The other two girls in the room were trying to find words and failing miserably.

“Alright,” Cu moved between them all, slapping a hand onto Gil’s shoulder. “Everyone, this is Gilgamesh. He’s kind of a dick, but he’s alright with Hakuno and he did me a favor in terms of work so… I mean, he’s still kind of an ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Anyway!” Cu grinned. “Since we’re all awake and active, let’s head out to eat or something.”

“I need to go say hello to G first!” Sakura glanced down the hall, earning a laugh from Gil.

“You’re going to say hi to that cat?”

“Of course!”

Of course, she was. Sakura loved her beloved cat almost as much as she had. The girl had made a few efforts to try to get close to him. She’d doted on him and given him treats. She’d tried cuddling him and holding him.

At the time, she hadn’t bothered to worry about it.

Now though…

“G has been nestled in the bed I got him,” Gilgamesh told her simply. “Hakuno and I had a time getting him to sleep since he doesn’t seem to be feeling well.”

“He isn’t?”

The king wrapped his arms around her as he spoke to Sakura, keeping her close. “Hakuno and I have been up all night, tending to him. He’s been whining a great deal.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

Sakura looked to the others, earning shrugs.

Any comments they could make were stopped the moment that Gilgamesh wrapped his arms around her more and nipped at her person. She could feel her face warming as the others coughed uncomfortably.

There was really no way to make him stop at this time.

“I’ve been staying with Hakuno since she has decided to become my wife. Seeing her through the illness of her pet is nothing,” Gilgamesh purred.

“He’s that bad?”

“Vomited a few times on the floor. The medic said little.”

The others in the room shifted.

It was hard not to. Apparently, she was engaged, her cat had become sick, she was performing foreplay in her bedroom; things were as far from okay as possible.

Sakura was the first to move forward, beaming at Gilgamesh.

“I’m glad that you’re here for Hakuno. I got worried when she stopped talking to us as much. She’s seemed a bit down. Please take good care of her.”

The purple haired girl turned to the others.

“If Hakuno’s fine, then we should let her and Gilgamesh have their time together. I think Emiya will probably be mad that I stole his key. Maybe… Rin, could you help me make something-“

“Yeah, come on.”

Rin took her former sister’s hand, glancing over as they headed for the door.

“We’ll see you both tomorrow. Don’t forget to do your homework, Hakuno.”

Her homework…

SHIT!

But Cu was laughing and following after Rin, teasing her about something. Rani shrugged following along.

“Guys!”

The door shut.

Alone again with her no longer feline friend, Hakuno found herself without the assignment help. Her companion headed to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a beer bottle.

“They’re gullible.”

“They’re trusting.”

Not that the man would know anything about trusting. The goddess of his kingdom had turned him into a cat and had tossed him outside of his time. He was without a home or anything other than-

Hakuno groaned at her gleaming living room decorations.

There would be a lot of questions about this.

Thankfully, Gilgamesh was apparently enough of a distraction that the whole group had completely missed taking a look into her living room. None of them had even thought to ask about her sudden influx of gold and jewels.

Still, there was so much crap to do.

“What time is it?” Hakuno sighed.

“It is time for you to come back to bed.”

“I have to get that homework done, Gil.”

Lots of work. She was pretty sure she had forgone most of her work in lieu of having that one night with Gilgamesh. Then there was the surprise of yesterday and then today was just resting...

“Are your classes about my story still?”

“A couple,” she told him distractedly.

“Then you have your work done. Present me to your people and we shall discuss their heinous crimes against the tales around myself and my friend. Your tutors will learn soon enough what truths of myself and my people that they have found elusive thus far. We can broaden their understanding of the reality of my life and ensure proper teaching to the other noble children whom attend your teachings with you.”

Oh, she could see it now. Taking the great king of Uruk to class...

But she wasn’t going to think about that.

No, she closed her eyes and turned, walking back into his arms.

Perhaps just remaining close to him was enough. Maybe she could just keep him from saying anything. They could simply go back to watching television for a bit before she worked on her homework. The two of them could figure out how to introduce him to people and react to others without being a bit… guarded.

“Hakuno-“

“I can’t take you to school or work with me.”

The man laughed, brushing back her hair and looking into her face. “It’s highly amusing, Hakuno, you seem to think you have a choice in this matter. The fact is, I won’t allow you to leave my sight. Not for long, anyway. I claimed you before your people.”

“You did.”

The man snorted, “a man does not propose himself to a maiden only to be turned down. This is not one of those times where you can simply claim away my claims. You are mine at this point, maiden. In body and in mind.”

“I’m not-“

“Have you read about Sumerian marriages?”

She didn’t breathe a damn word.

Marriages were simple. One basically talked to the family or close guardians, gained permission or approval in general, and then would announce they were husband and wife. There was ceremonial perfume followed by…

Well, followed by…

Hakuno felt her face burning at the thought. Sakura and Cu had both accepted Gilgamesh now. They were both approving of this wedding.

“Have you?” He smirked, coming in closer and beginning to unbutton his shirt on her person. She could already tell he was thinking this conversation over.

“I read about your other wives,” she pointed out.

“Oh?”

Oh indeed. She wasn’t going to sacrifice herself for anything like that. She had tasks to complete here. She had friends and-

“You want something with more meaning?”

Wife to a king was the highest one went. What on earth was the-

“I have one position that is available. Should you be able to return us to Uruk, I would be vaguely interested in making you something more.”

His lips pressed against her own again.

“I will return you to Uruk.”

“Us.” Gilgamesh lifted her up, carrying her back to the bedroom. “You and I will return to my kingdom and you will meet Enkidu.”

Hakuno groaned again, going to speak when the door was pounded on.

Had Sakura forgotten something again?

This wouldn’t be the first time the girl had forgotten her keys, her phone, her shoes, her jacket- something of hers, at the house. Hakuno had to button back up the shirt she was wearing as Gilgamesh made a noise of complaint.

They looked to one another before Hakuno found herself back on her feet.

She rushed to the door, laughing.

“Did you guys forget something?” she asked, pulling the door open. “I didn’t see…anything…”

There was a supermodel on the other side of the door.

No, Rin?

No… The red eyes were definitely not Rin’s.

The gaudy, almost see through dress and the red lipstick was also a couple things that Rin would never have approved for herself. The woman before her was screaming of sexual misconduct and depravity.

Hakuno stared at her for a full minute, frowning.

Who on earth…

“Can I… help you?” she asked the woman.

The woman glanced over at her, running her eyes over her person. She could almost see the judgement; the eye twitch, the fixed gaze on her state of dress.

“My name is Ishtar. I’m looking for my lost ah… nephew. His name is Gilgamesh.”

Shit.

Without thinking, Hakuno simply slammed the door shut.

#drabble #drabbles

15 notes · View notes

jacquiesims · 5 years

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Viper Canyon - Chapter Three

“Get up, Winnie, it’s Winterfest! How can you be asleep on Winterfest morning?”

December 1851

The first thing Winnie saw when she woke up on Winterfest morning was Beatrice’s smiling face.

“Get up, Winnie, it’s Winterfest! How can you be asleep on Winterfest morning?”

The sun was just beginning to rise on Viper Canyon. Winnie grumbled to herself as she threw back the covers, feeling the cool air lingering from nighttime on her legs.

Winnie made breakfast as Beatrice quietly began to decorate their home for the holiday, buzzing with excitement. She put festive scraps of tartan fabric tied in bows in the windows, lighting the red candle on the table and arranging the meager presents beneath their wreath – evergreen trees were hard to come by in the desert, so the family was forced to make due.

It was their first big holiday together in their new home and the girls were determined to make it as special as possible.

When it was all said and done and Winnie had finished making breakfast, the living area was a great deal cheerier than it had been before the girls came downstairs. The rich smell of hot, buttery flapjacks filled the air as Winnie and Beatrice tittered girlishly outside of their parents’ bedroom door, ready to wake them up.

On the count of three, they rapped together on the wooden door. Blankets rustled inside as Papa and Mamma got out of bed.

“Girls, this is wonderful. What a surprise!” Mamma gushed, taking in the sight of their dining table laid out for their lavish breakfast feast. “You haven’t done this for us since you were little. It’s so good to see you’re both still my little Winterfest sprites even though you’ve grown up.”

“Breakfast looks delicious. And it’s nice to see the house decorated for the holidays. Thank you, girls.”

It was rare to see a smile on Papa’s face. Winnie and Beatrice beamed with pride, feeling their chests overflow with holiday joy.

“When can we open presents?” Beatrice grinned, looking at Papa and Mamma with huge eyes. Although she liked to think she was an adult, sometimes it was very clear to see she was still a child at heart.

Mamma laughed. “We’ll get to opening presents, Bea. It’s all right to have breakfast in our pajamas but we can’t hardly stay in them all day. Let’s clear the table and change and then we’ll see about opening some gifts.”

Beatrice hopped from her seat, immediately gathering the dirty plates in a stack to bring to the kitchen basin for washing. Mamma gave a little laugh and shook her head.

Once the family was decent, they gathered downstairs on the sofa around the wreath.

“I get to be Winterfest sprite this year because Winnie got to do it last year,” Beatrice said matter-of-factly, picking up the smallest present. It was wrapped in scrap brown paper and tied with a piece of string. “This one is for Papa.”

“A new pocket watch. And a fine one at that. Thank you, girls. I was sorely missing my last one.”

Mama smiled at her husband. “We all remembered you had broken your old one in the mines. You would do well to treat this one better than the last, dear.”

“I will,” he promised, tucking the watch into his waistcoat pocket.

Mamma was the next to open her present. Inside was a delicate figurine of a couple dancing. She gasped.

“My, this looks just like the one we had to sell back east. It’s simply beautiful, you shouldn’t have.”

“Well, I remembered how much you loved the one we had back in the city. You used to dust it with such care before you put it back in its place on the mantel! Bea and I saw this one at the general store and ran home right away to ask Papa for the money.”

“Is that so?” She laughed. “Thank you, girls. And you too, Emmett.”

Winnie’s present came in a repurposed old shoebox. She beamed with glee upon seeing its contents.

“Goodness, I’ve never gotten so many books at once before! I’ll have enough to read for the next year!”

“Knowing you, that’ll be enough to read for another month,” Bea chided under her breath. The family chose to ignore her.

“Granted, they are secondhand, but I hope you enjoy them. Mr. Monroe down at the general store told me those books are all the rage with young ladies in the city.”

Beatrice got to open her present last, since she was the youngest. Papa plunked the hefty gift on the table and let his youngest tear into the wrapping paper.

“Is this really for me?” Beatrice asked in awe. “What fine paints! And new brushes, too!”

Papa grinned with pride. “On my way into the mines the other day a woman was peddling these on the road. Got a mighty fine deal on them. Soon as I saw them, I knew my Bea had to have them. You haven’t been able to paint your fine landscapes without good paint since we arrived.”

“Oh, thank you, Papa! From the bottom of my heart!”

The family hardly had time to enjoy their presents before there was a polite knock at the door. Mamma answered it to find Verity, Joseph, and Peter on their porch.

“Merry Winterfest!” Verity said with a smile. “We’ve brought you a fruitcake! It’s an old family recipe.

“Goodness, that’s terribly kind of you!” Mamma replied, taking the cake from Verity. “Merry Winterfest to you all, too. Come inside and have some tea, won’t you?”

The adults indulged in a midmorning cup of tea around the table, catching up on Viper Canyon news while Peter, Winnie, and Bea sat awkwardly on the sofa nearby.

“Well, I heard we’re to get a fair amount of new people moving in with this next wagon train,” Joseph said, taking a sip of his tea. “Apparently a man not too far away from here has found a gold vein in the mines and made it rich. Family back east tells me it’s made the front page of all the newspapers.”

In his seat, Papa shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t take a gossip monger to know he had yet to find a single nugget of gold so far and his savings were dwindling dangerously low.

There was a bit of quiet conversation at the table that Winnie and Beatrice couldn’t make out before the ladies took the girls outside for ‘fresh air.’

Winnie and Beatrice stared at each other in confusion.

“What was all that about?” Beatrice asked, wriggling anxiously. “I was just working up the courage to say something to Peter.”

“It’s almost as if Papa had something to talk about with him and Joseph. But what could there be that’s so serious it couldn’t wait until after Winterfest?”

The sisters didn’t have any more time to discuss the matter because their newest guest was quickly arriving on the horizon.

Elijah sat atop his mare with all the ease and skill of a seasoned rider. Upon seeing Winnie and Beatrice standing by the road, he waved his arm in their direction.

“Merry Winterfest, ladies,” Elijah said warmly, tipping his hat. “I, er, only brought a gift for the girls. I hope you don’t mind.”

Mamma only smiled. “Of course not. Emmett and I are much too old to be expecting gifts. I’m sure the boys are done having their chat if you’d like to come inside while I start on supper.”

Elijah nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Beatrice watched the exchange between the trail guide and her mother with a knitted brow. “A present, you say? For Winnie and I? But I see nothing with you.”

“I was trying to keep it a surprise. Here – Putnam was pawning off some kittens that had been born behind the saloon. They were in pretty bad shape so I took them in and did what I could, but this was the only one that made it. I figured two girls would make for a better caretaker than someone like me.”

He carefully pulled a frail white kitten out of his coat pocket. Beatrice and Winnie instantly cooed at the tiny thing, weakly mewling against Elijah’s chest. It was certainly very small and quite young – they were both taken by the instinctual urge to care for it immediately.

“My, what a dear little thing,” Winnie said, looking into its big, sad eyes. “We’ll just have to do our best to spoil it. After all, it’s had a rough lot in life already, and so young…let’s take it in to get warm by the fire, shall we?”

“Papa’s never cared for cats very much, but I’m certain once he sees this precious little kitten he’ll change his mind right away!”

Beatrice and Winnie carried the kitten all the way inside to get warm by the potbelly stove, Verity and Mamma tailing close behind. It already seemed to be in much better spirits with four women to dote after it.

“Emmett, dear, come have a look. Elijah’s brought the girls the most adorable little kitten for Winterfest.”

“What a fine gift!” Peter remarked. “That cat will grow up to be the finest vermin catcher in the canyon.”

“Catching vermin?” Winnie said in disgust. “No, not this one. I think it’ll be quite happy to get fat on cream and sit on my lap while I read instead.”

“The kitten is a gift to the both of us, Winnie. And that means it will have to get used to keeping me company while I paint as well.”

“Why don’t you two girls take the kitten upstairs and show it where it’ll be living?” Papa suggested gently, watching it carefully from a comfortable distance away.

Beatrice nodded excitedly. “Mamma, could you get a bowl of cream ready so it can have a nice Winterfest supper with us?”

Mamma nodded, ushering the girls up the staircase. “Certainly, dear. Go on and bring the kitten upstairs for now.”

Winnie couldn’t put her finger on it, but having Peter in the loft where she slept made her uncomfortable. He looked at everything with a great deal of interest that seemed wholly inappropriate for a boy in a girls’ room. She set the kitten down and it began to delicately sniff around the room with its tiny wet nose.

“My, are all of these your books, Winnie?” He asked, gesturing to the short bookcase tucked into the corner. “You must have quite the appetite for reading.”

“Peter,” Beatrice interjected, jumping into his line of sight. “Do you enjoy painting? Papa’s given me the finest paint set for Winterfest this morning. I simply must show it to you after the kitten’s had a look around.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Oh, certainly, Beatrice. I’d be happy to take a look at it.”

“You can call me Bea,” she beamed, resisting the urge to hang off his arm. “All my good friends do. Perhaps I can even convince you to sit for a portrait one day.”

“Bea’s quite a gifted painter,” Winnie added helpfully. “Her landscapes won an award at school back east.”

“Is that so?” Peter asked with an appreciative smile. “Winnie, did you go to the same school as Bea?”

The littlest Hawkins began to pout. How could Peter be paying more attention to her sister than her? She was in one of her prettiest frocks and had pinched her cheeks until they were sore whenever she’d seen him arrive at the door. The whole situation was feeling rather unfair.

“Oh, we did…but I’m a few years older than Bea so we didn’t see much of each other at school. She was a great deal more accomplished when it came to creative pursuits than myself, though.”

Beatrice knew Winnie was downplaying her own accomplishments to try and impress Peter on her behalf, but it did little to quell the sting of her beau seemingly changing his interests overnight. He had been so invested in Beatrice at the wedding, what had happened to make him change his mind?

Eventually the youngest Hawkins made her way downstairs. It had become abundantly clear who Peter was interested in, and Beatrice disappeared down the staircase quietly, wholly disappointed and entirely unnoticed.

“Winnie, you’re quite an accomplished woman,” Peter said unsurely, nervously wringing his hands.

She was taken by surprise. “Oh. Thank you, Peter.”

“And it goes without saying that you’re a rare beauty as well. I’d never laid eyes on a prettier girl until we met on the day we departed for Viper Canyon from Independence.”

Winnie felt a hot blush creep into her cheeks. How did one respond to such a generous compliment?

“I’ve had a talk with my stepfather and my mother…and your parents as well. Goodness, I’m so nervous I can’t stop shaking,” he laughed anxiously, his smile like hot rubber. “I suppose I should just come out and say it. Your father has given me his blessing for us to be engaged.”

“His blessing?” Winnie cried in shock. “To me? I thought you were sweet on my little sister!”

Thousands of thoughts began to violently swim in Winnie’s head, but none was more prevalent than that of her concern for Beatrice’s poor heart. How would she feel knowing that the boy she was in love with was to marry her older sister?

“I will not lie. I had initially planned on asking for your father’s blessing to marry Bea. But…having talked it over with Mother and my stepfather, they both agreed that Bea and I weren’t a good match.”

Winnie wholly disagreed.

“Peter, she loves you. You two were getting on famously on your mother’s wedding. What arguments did they have against the match?”

Peter seemed ashamed. “It is no secret that Bea has a terrible temper. Even though she’s talented and very pretty…she is horribly lazy, as much as it pains me to admit it. When I marry, I need a wife that will be willing to get her hands dirty and put in the work necessary to build a successful homestead for our family. Bea will do no such thing and would be proud to say as much. Mother did say that back east, Bea would make a fine wife for any man. But here, in Viper Canyon, away from civilization…she is more of a liability than anything else. You are simply the better option.”

Winnie felt bitter frustration building in her chest. “Bea wouldn’t be a liability,” she cried, voice cracking. “Because she would do anything for the right man – one whom she loved dearly, such as yourself.”

Peter sighed. “I’m sorry to have made you upset. I was hoping you’d be excited, even if only a little bit. In any case, your father informed me he wouldn’t be comfortable marrying you off until we had a proper home to call our own.”

At least there was some sliver of hope. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t stake a claim on any land until I’m eighteen, which isn’t for another year. It’ll take a few months after securing the deed to establish a homestead, so it’ll be quite a while until we’re – until we’re married.”

Winnie had ardently hoped that in Viper Canyon she could choose her own husband. It may have been a naïve and hopeless wish, but she kindled it in a private corner of her heart anyway. All her life she had read wonderful books about young women securing their futures and marrying for love. A small part of her looked forward to the changes that would come in the west – she dreamed she could at least partly be in charge of her own fate instead of obeying every whim of her parents. Alas, she had been wrong, like so many times before. Once more, she was left feeling like a foolish little girl. Swallowing the painful lump in her throat, she tried to gather what few shreds of pride she had left, and lifted her eyes to meet Peter’s.

“You didn’t even properly ask me.” The smile she offered Peter was insincere, but it was the least she could do at the moment.

“Oh – oh!” He laughed nervously again, his freckled cheeks pink with embarrassment, before awkwardly clearing his throat. “Winnie…would you – er,” he scratched the back of his neck, worried someone downstairs would overhear. “Winnie, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

She sighed and nodded. “Of course, Peter.”

As if she had any choice in the matter.

“Wonderful.” His smile was wide and brimming with excitement, only adding a deeper ache to Winnie’s sore heart. “I was hoping we could take our long engagement to get to know each other better, if that’s all right with you.”

“We’re near strangers, so I would hope so.”

She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter, but sometimes her feelings made themselves known all on their own.

“About announcing the whole thing…Mother and Mr. Hawkins – er…your father, that is – decided it might be best if we held off until closer to the wedding.”

“A good idea,” Winnie agreed. “But the longer we wait, the more upset Bea is going to be when she finds out.”

Peter nodded. “I know. And I…feel awfully guilty about hurting Bea, you must know. But that’s just how these things go. We must obey the wishes of our families when it comes to matters of marriage and the heart.”

Unexpectedly, Peter reached out and grabbed a hold of Winnie’s hand with a friendly grin. The feeling of Peter’s soft, damp palms against her own was a startling contrast to the rough skin of Elijah’s weathered hands she’d felt at the wedding when they’d waltzed.

She reflexively withdrew her hands and hid them behind her back.

“I know. I’m sorry if I’ve been rather bitter and rude about the whole thing. Any girl would be lucky to have you as a husband, Peter.”

He smiled at her, the air a bit lighter between them.

“But we should make our way downstairs. Watcher only knows what they think we’re getting up to in here,” Winnie teased, enjoying the sight of Peter’s ears glowing red.

Winnie came downstairs to find the eager eyes of every adult in the room – save Elijah – trained on her. She offered them a sad half-smile and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Beatrice was too busy pouting on the sofa to take any notice of Peter’s boyish grin as he descended the stairs only moments behind Winnie.

“Girls, say goodbye to Verity, Joseph, and Peter. They’ve got their own Winterfest feast to get back to at home.” Mamma called from the stove.

After a tense goodbye, Winnie and Beatrice returned to the main room of their house, where Papa and Elijah were quietly smoking tobacco cigarettes at the table. Mamma was giving them a dirty look but said nothing as she placed the roast in the oven.

“Well!” She said cheerfully, wiping her hands on a rag. “We’ve got quite some time until supper is ready…any suggestions as how to spend the time?”

The family spent the hours before dinner reading stories from the Book of the Watcher, singing carols, and laughing on the sofa. Elijah did feel an outsider in their home, but even being allowed to witness such a display of kindred joy from the Hawkins family was more than he could have asked for from the holiday season.

He had grown used to spending cold nights alone in his home with no one but his animals for company – not that he necessarily was bothered by it. Elijah may have been an infamous homebody, but sharing Winterfest with as colorful a group as Papa, Mamma, Winnie, and Beatrice was a nice change of pace.

The family was full of more than a delicious roast turkey that night. Beatrice had thankfully gotten over being ignored by Peter very quickly and spent the rest of the night in good spirits, unable to quit smiling for even a moment.

Winnie was willing to put aside her tumultuous thoughts of marriage long enough to enjoy the meal her mother spent hours laboring over.

Papa drank his fair share of whiskey – making him good humored and a great source of laughter for everyone throughout the night.

While the girls enjoyed catching up with their father in the house, Mamma caught Elijah outside as he watched the stars slowly blink into existence after the sunset.

“You aren’t too cold, dear?” She asked, tightening her shawl over her shoulders.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Mamma closed the distance between them, standing by his side and watching the sky.

“It was very kind of you to bring the girls that little kitten. You know, we had the sweetest black dog back east that we left with family, and I’m sure the girls have been missing him terribly.”

Elijah sighed quietly. “It’s just a shame its brothers and sisters died so young. I hope the girls take good care of it.”

“They will,” Mamma said resolutely with a nod. “I’m certain of it. I know they quarrel worse than anything. Bea’s always got such a temper, and Winnie’s so busy daydreaming and reading her books…but they’re good girls. I raised them well.”

“I know it, ma’am.”

Mamma looked at Elijah for a long time, carefully studying his features. He felt heat tickle his cheeks as she did so, wondering if he had perhaps forgotten to wipe his mouth after their delicious supper.

“You’re a handsome man, Elijah. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Why aren’t you married? Surely you must have had the opportunity before, seeing as you’re well into your twenties.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, heaving a great sigh. “Ah…thank you. But it’s a long story, and not a very happy one, at that. Not something to talk about on a day like Winterfest.”

Mamma nodded in silent understanding and watched the stars with Elijah a little longer.

When they came inside, Winnie had already gone to bed.

“Thank you for the kitten, Elijah,” Beatrice said sweetly. “We’ll take very good care of it. And you can come and visit any time you please to see how it’s doing.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll have to take you up on that offer. You’ll have to let me know what you and Winnie decide to name it.”

Papa cleared his throat. “Winnie’s sorry, but she was tired after today. She’s gone up to bed but said to wish you a Merry Winterfest and to say thank you for the cat.”

Upstairs, Winnie was unable to fall asleep, her heart aching terribly despite the happiness of the holiday.

At the foot of her bed, the little kitten curled into a ball, belly full of cream and paws warmed from the fire.

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter | Viper Canyon Index | Chapter Four

(I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!! I’m sorry the pictures weren’t up to my usual standard but there were just so many...either way, I hope you enjoyed it and as always let me know your thoughts :) Hopefully CH4 won’t take nearly as long as this one did.)

#ts2 #sims 2 #ts2 story #viper canyon #viper canyon: chapter three #viper canyon story

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not-looking-for-happy · 4 years

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The Last Equation: Chapter 10 - Recruit Number 2 and 3

Summary: Grei and Professor Wallace are closely observing recruit #2. Meanwhile, Five and Hazel time-travels to get recruit #3.

For a downloadable format, click here.

Click here for the entire work.

Story is also now available in Wattpad.

Two days have passed after Five requested Hazel’s aid in destroying the Commissions. Within these days, Grei and the professor had been doing nothing but taking turns on watching over their ‘Recruit Number 2’.

From going to school, going to the grocery, dumping the garbage, and playing hero outside the boy’s garden, Grei and Professor Wallace would interchangeably observe him secretly. Fortunately, for the past two days of their observation, the boy has been quite reserved, never looking out for trouble and always positively looking at things.

No matter how much painful words and harrowing treatment he would receive from his father every single day, the boy would still sit contentedly at his room as he reads the comic books he purchased behind his father’s back. Careful not to make suspicious sounds that might lead to his father discovering his little comic stash, he would silently smile and giggle from time to time.

“Hasn’t he been reading that comic book too many times in just a few spans of days now? Wouldn’t it be better if he reads another issue?” asked the old man as he whispers to his daughter beside him.

“Can’t blame him for being a fan now, can we? Besides, it’s not like his father would gladly buy him some stuff.”

“Poor kid. He’s kind deep down inside, it’s no wonder he ended up like that in the future,” the old man replied, sniffing his nose.

“That’s why we’re here, aren’t we? To stop him from going sideways. And besides, what are you still doing here? I thought we already agreed to take turns in observing Harold?” Grei stated while frowning vehemently at her father.

“Oh, come on now! It’s not like we’ll get caught. Is it so wrong for a father to spend some quality moments with his daughter?”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘quality moment’ but, fine. Suit yourself.”

Knowing how stubborn her father is, she decides to sit silently on her seat. Compared to observing Harold alone where she has to find hidden spots so as not to get caught, waiting inside a car is way better and more comfortable. Add the fact that his father likes to dote on her whenever he has the chance to. Besides, once the Hargreeves siblings will be sent back to the current timeline, she as well would have no chance to meet his father more often at all.

“I’d say, this young kid has a strong spirit. Look at him being happy despite everything he’s going through. His mother’s gone and his father, well…” Professor paused for a moment to try to find the right words to describe Harold’s father.

“He’s an a**hole. That’s all he is,” Grei responded. “Look at him, he’s pathetic. He’s not taking care of his only son. It’s not even the boy’s fault that his mother died.

“Language!”

“Can’t be helped. It’s the best word to describe him.”

“You seem to be very angry at his father,” Professor Wallace mentioned as he notices the sudden change in Grei’s expression.

“He’s just too horrible. How can a father do something like that to his son? I’m not even surprised anymore that Harold killed him.”

“It can’t be helped. We’re in a world where we can’t choose our parents.”

“I guess I got lucky then. My biological parents abandoned me but I was chosen by you.”

Professor Wallace gasps in his seat, unable to utter a single word on what he just heard.

“Hello? You still there?”

“I thought for a second that this was all a dream,” Professor responded, still surprised.

“You said you want ‘quality moments’, now I’m giving you one,” Grei said teasingly.

“Yes, I’d really like that.”

The next few hours went by without the two of them noticing. It was already dark when Harold steps outside his house, a trash bag clutched on his hands as he walks slowly towards the nearest dump near an alleyway across their house.

Grei is struggling internally for the past few days that she’s been observing Harold. Not only would his father neglect him, but he would also recklessly hit him on his drunken stupor. At times, observing the kid becomes too painful that she has to close her eyes and listen to his cries at night.

Regardless, at this point, she has to remain an outsider. It is not yet the time to let the boy know that someone’s constantly watching over him. She wanted to hug him, to comfort him, and let him know that he did not deserve any of those bad things to happen. Sadly, for now, all she could do is watch.

Please bear with it for a little longer. In a short while, you’ll get to wake up from this never-ending nightmare.

*******

Meanwhile, at the professor’s mansion house, Five and Hazel are both cooped up. For Hazel, he felt like he luckily got a VIP pass. He’s now sitting right in front of the person idolized by many agents in the temps. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but every time Five would successfully escape him and her partner’s grasp in the past, he would think to himself that he is indeed a legend.

Back when he’s still working for the Commissions, he would hear rumors about Five and his accomplishments within the organization. Not to brag but Hazel himself thinks he is one of the top agents and to hear someone who started later than he complete so many missions splendidly ticks him off.

“I bet those are just exaggerated rumors. Survivor of the apocalypse? Can time-travel without the briefcase? Must be nice not to be bringing around this heavy briefcase with you all the time,” Hazel grumbled while listening to Cha-Cha’s story about Five.

“I’m telling you, these are not just rumors. They’re written reports I read because I got curious,” Cha-Cha replied at his partner who seems to take her words like total crap.

Hazel could not believe the rest of Cha-Cha’s statements. And just like her, he got curious too. And for the first time since joining the Commissions, he would secretly drop by at the case files room just so he could read every written report there is about Five, an action he has never done before. So, if there is anyone among the organization who knows every detail of Five’s missions, it’s him. Needless to say, he won’t tell Five that he is secretly 'fanboys’ behind his back.

Hazel’s thoughts are completely disrupted when he felt Five’s gaze.

“Are you okay? Do you still have any questions?” Five asked.

“Nope, none at all,” he replied, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Fortunately for Hazel, Five is not good at reading people’s thoughts by simply looking at their expressions. Also, he once told Five that he’s his fan in a lighter tone, which by the way is a lie because he’s not just a fan, he’s a super fan. But knowing the tiny old man’s personality, he’ll probably be creeped out. This is a secret he’ll bury together with him in his grave. For now, assisting Five in stopping the organization and saving the world is enough for him.

“Let’s go. There’s no time to waste,” Five said as he urges Hazel to move closer towards the briefcase he’s holding in his right hand.

A blue light disappears as soon as it appears. On that night, the two men, set on a mission disappeared on that timeline in the blink of an eye.

*******

It’s a feeling very familiar with Hazel, and yet, it’s still nostalgic. It’s been three years since he time-traveled and to be doing it once again left an exhilarating feeling inside him. Not to mention, his partner is now Five and they won’t be killing but saving someone, which is a bonus.

“February 1, 1968. A Shau valley, 3 AM,” Five said to remind the two of them of the time and place where they time-traveled.

“This is one hell of a place to be.”

“I know. But this is better than having no place at all,” Five whispered to himself as he walks towards a nearby encampment.

“Do you know his face? That Recruit number 3 guy?” Hazel asked as he follows Five.

“Nope. All I know is the complete name. Klaus told me,” Five replied. “Which is why we arrived earlier to identify him. There are thousands of soldiers here. We need to know his exact location before the ceasefire ends. We wouldn’t want to be riddled with bullets and dying in the wrong timeline.”

“What shall we do now?”

“We need a place to hide, a meeting place. I’ll be looking for Dave. We could search together but two persons jumping on tents early this morning might cause a raucous.”

As soon as Hazel and Five agreed on an assembly point, Five vanishes instantly. Hazel sits silently in the dark while carefully observing the situation. They chose the assembly point a few meters away from the soldiers’ camp on top of a hill so Hazel could have more or less an idea where Five is going to.

It’s quite a sight. Seeing a tiny flicker from afar blink from tents after tents. In some tents, Five would be spending quite some time and for others, he would be gone in just a few seconds. One might expect that this would be a boring job for Hazel, but it’s not. For the first time in his life, he’s thankful he became part of the Commissions. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been recruited by Five and guarding the briefcase that the professor owns which will play a major role in this mission.

Ugh, should have bought some doughnuts.

After three hours of non-stop searching, Five manages to identify Dave’s location. Additionally, he manages to find food rations and coffee for both of them.

“Finally found him, but I haven’t talked to him yet. Seeing a kid in this place might surprise him,” Five presumed. He sits beside Hazel. “I brought us some food as well.”

“Got it,” Hazel responded.

Hazel and Five have a precise, if not exact, idea of the time in which Dave will die. The mission will be to stop it happening seconds before it happened. In this mission, failure is definitely not an option.

Time goes by while they wait patiently. Surprisingly, Five is telling Hazel instances of his previous missions that are not written in reports. Hazel was all ears, silently wishing that he had brought pen and paper with him. Maybe, due to the atmosphere, Five is reminiscing the good old days back when he’s still working for the organization.

Their conversation was discontinued when they heard gunshots from a distant location.

“It’s time,” Five spoke. “Let’s go.”

Five blinked himself and Hazel in a nearby tent. They remained hidden for a few moments. Gunshots and loud voices coming from every direction can be heard. Being veteran agents in the Commissions, both Five and Hazel are pretty calm while observing the situations unfolding before their eyes. The two of them are well-hidden. Most probably, Five also looked for places where they could conveniently hide.

As expected, this guy's a legend.

Five was silently looking at his wristwatch, precisely calculating the time to execute the mission and calibrating the briefcase while Hazel is covering for him to make sure no one has taken notice of them. In this chaos, being able to think accurately is a must. As mentioned before, failure is not an option.

The situation, however, doesn’t seem to faze him. It’s like Five is in a different dimension right now, surrounded by equations necessary to do what has to be done. And then, he raised his head, gazes towards Hazel signaling him that the time has come. He gently tapped Five’s shoulder and the two of them vanished at the same time.

What Hazel witnessed is a scenery he has never witnessed before. The professor and Five already explained to him what the briefcase can do other than time-travel but seeing it in practice did not stop him from being amazed. Contrary to what is expected, no sounds are being heard. The bullets flying in every direction are suspended mid-air. All the soldiers who are vigorously moving about the field stopped moving completely.

Five, on the other hand, is not even astounded of what has occurred.

“Right on time. I’d say, perfect,” Five said to himself as he saw Dave crouched on the elevated ground.

Hazel followed suit while he commits every detail of this scenery in his memory.

Dave stands slowly, unable to follow what has occurred. However, there is one thing he is sure of, that whatever’s happening in this instant has something to do with the two figures who suddenly appeared behind him.

“Who are you? What have you done? You've caused this, right?” Dave asked, his hands tightly holding his gun.

“I’d like to discuss the actual calculations but you wouldn’t understand it, so let’s just say that we literally stopped time,” Five replied nonchalantly.

“Look around you, everything stopped moving. Well, except for the three of us,” Hazel added.

“What do you want from me, then?”

“While it’s good that we are progressing quickly with the conversation, let’s change locations, shall we? It’s not like we can stop time endlessly.”

“Sorry, pal. Let me touch your shoulder a bit,” Hazel said as he approaches Dave whose still on guard. ”Drop the gun, please. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Hurry up, we don’t have the time.”

Seeing that Five is already annoyed, Dave decides to drop the gun and let Hazel touch his shoulder. Right about now, agreeing to go with these two people is a better option than dying. As soon as he did, there was a sharp pain delivered across his entire body, like thousand needles punctured onto him all at the same time. And as he opens his eyes, the dark valley turned into a well-lit room, with books all around it, a table and some chairs, and finally, the two figures he met in Vietnam are still with him.

“What just happened?” Dave asked as he endures the discomfort he’s feeling. “Hi, I’m Five. I'm a 52-year old man trapped in a 13-year old body. And this is Hazel,” Five explained while gesturing towards Hazel. “I’m your lover’s brother, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hazel, can you do the honor?” Five requested, seeing that this will be a long conversation. “I’m gonna go and get some coffee.”

Five exits the room silently. Dave and Hazel are left in the room as they stare awkwardly at each other.

“Before everything else, why don’t we take a sit? I’ll tell you everything.”

Luckily for Five, Hazel seems to do everything he told him to without questions being asked. Not to mention, he’s really bad at this “explain-the-whole-situation” thing. To make it up to him, Five decides to go outside the mansion house to buy some doughnuts. He noticed how Hazel loves doughnuts, especially at the Griddy’s. Before leaving, he left the pot of coffee and two cups outside the office, knocks gently at the door, and disappears.

Five was gone for two hours. Before he could go back to the mansion, he decides to drop by at the academy without anyone noticing. Vanya is having combat training with Allison and Luther in the basement, an essential training their father didn't bother teaching her because she won't be part of any missions. Klaus, Diego, and Ben are having a conversation at Diego’s room about his knives. Upon seeing that his siblings seem to be doing good, he walks silently towards Klaus’s room and left a note. Without letting anyone notice him, he vanished into thin air.

*******

By the time Five enters the professor’s office once again, Dave and Hazel are still talking. This time though, Dave seems to be more comfortable with his surroundings now.

“You’ve been gone for hours. What took you so long?” Hazel asked as soon as he notices Five entering the room.

“I bought you these,” Five replied while carrying a paper bag on his hand.

When Hazel realizes what Five has brought, he immediately seizes the paper bag and digs his hand inside.

“This guy's pretty easy to talk to. He caught up with everything quickly. As expected of a soldier, I guess. Want some?” Hazel offers to Dave as he pulls a piece of doughnut from the paper bag.

Dave simply nods and accepts the doughnut given by Hazel. The two of them eat silently while Five is drinking his coffee.

“So,” Dave started. “Your name is Five, right? About you being my lover’s brother, is that true? Will she be my girlfriend in the future?”

“Technically, it’s all in the past now. It’s been undone. And I included you in this mission so you and my brother can meet again. His name is Klaus, by the way.”

“Brother?”

“Yes, brother. He’s a dude,” Hazel butted in, his voice muffled by the doughnut he’s eating.

“Oh.”

It is the only word Dave could utter. Probably, he already had a slight idea of his gender. However, being raised in a family where all men are to be soldiers, he had suppressed all those tiny feelings he’s had in the past.

“Well, can I meet him?” Dave asked.

“Not yet. It’s a bit complicated. Not in this timeline, at least. We are of the same age and meeting your future boyfriend in his 13-year old body is a bit…” Five explained. “You know what I mean.”

“Can you at least tell me something about him?”

Five smiled at Dave’s question. At least, Dave has accepted the fact that he is his brother’s lover. He can’t even imagine how happy Klaus would be when he founds out that Dave is already together with him.

“That, I can do,” Five replied gently.

“Well then, I guess I’ll leave the two of you alone. Sorry, pal, that’s the part of the story that I’m not aware of,” Hazel said while tapping Dave’s shoulder.

“Well, where to begin?”

In a minute or two, Dave is already bursting in laughter. Hazel could faintly hear the lively discussion that the two are having. He missed that kind of atmosphere, with Agnes not being by his side right now. But he has decided to went through with this precisely for her sake.

I’ll endure for now. I’ll meet her again as soon as this mission ends.

And as his thoughts are flooded by memories of Agnes, he sits silently inside a room right across the professor’s office where Five and Dave are talking. Just like any other night, this will probably end up being a long one.

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sage-thrasher · 5 years

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Extra: “Sanitize” and Outsider POVs (Chemical Reactions)

Well, here’s 1.5k words of outsider POV: a hobbyist chemist/physicist meets Yui. Science results. It’s basically indulgent fluff I wrote for no reason besides, well... indulgence. Sparked by the thought that our knowledge of physics and chemistry has grown so much... people and science are pretty wonderful. Takes place in no specific time. Here’s Chemical Reactions.

---

Being wealthy and charismatic meant that Haru Watanabe was called ‘eccentric.’ He was also a middle-aged man with three children and a doting wife, the owner of a thriving spice business—mostly ran by the aforementioned wife—and a self-described scholar with a surprising amount of perceptiveness. Basically, Haru did everything else right so that he could get away with doing some things wrong.

(The first sin in question: throwing himself headfirst into physics and chemistry despite having enough money to pursue respectable subjects like history, politics, literature, or historical political literature.)

Haru had people who could do the tiresome but necessary business of actually bringing the goods from one place to another. Unfortunately, there did come times where he had to make the trek in person, generally when it involved a noble personage of one dinky plot or another who got delusions of grandeur. Haru would then kiss his wife and children, board the caravan, and head to woo the noble who was choking his trade routes. This time, he was with a scribe, a servant, and two hired Sarutobi guards.

(The greater sin: blabbing about his scientific interests with everyone who had the slightest amount of interest, which in Haru’s world, was the equivalent of looking in his direction.)

He’d talked his associates’s ears off during the journey there, and on the way back, both his employees were resigned to hearing his newest ideas--his scribe knew it by heart. Though the younger ninja had been interested at first, now the two Sarutobi were staring into the distance with glazed eyes.

(The final sin: making sure that he walked his hostage audience through the concepts in question until they understood it instead of blabbing without input, denying said audience the luxury of entirely tuning it out.)

So when Haru stopped in Chiyuku to pay the necessary pilgrimage to Healer Yui’s residence, he of course took her offer of tea as an invitation to speak about his newest pet theory. Haru hadn’t met with her personally before, having never been down this route himself, but he and every merchant with business on this side of the country knew about her. And Haru especially knew of her reputation for sharing knowledge. Was it likely that she knew anything about his interests? No, but that had never stopped him before.

“I have a great interest in science,” he began, smiling.

She didn’t pause in the middle of bandaging—the younger Sarutobi was lightly burned, but only because he’d practiced some sort of ninja technique above his skill levels, much to the exasperation of the older one—but she looked up.

“Is that so?” Yui was perfectly polite. “What kind of sciences?”

“Oh, physics and chemistry, mainly.” He let his smile grow brighter. “The very big and very small, the planets and the atoms.”

There was a glint of genuine interest now, even as she said, “Give me a minute, please.” Haru was content to wait as she gave the ninja instructions, washed her hands, poured herself a cup of tea, and took a seat across from him. “You’re a scholar in both subjects?”

Her voice was the mix of a rustic drawl and clipped enunciation that educated rural folk tended to have, and Haru could detect traces of other accents, likely picked up from all the travelers that came through Chiyuku.

(Again, he wasn’t a bad merchant. He was a rather excellent one, though his wife was the exceptional half. Haru was well-versed in the art of sizing someone up.)

“I am!” Haru sipped his tea and was pleasantly surprised by its mellow flavor. He’d had worse tea in fancier places. “Are you aware of the elements of matter?” Before he could start his theory, he needed to gauge her current knowledge.

It wasn’t quite a non-sequitur, but Yui took the small leap between topics in stride. “Yes. Carbon, nitrogen…” She hesitated. “I have the periodic chart of elements. A colleague of mine gave me some books with them.”

HHaru’s interest was piqued. “Did he?” He reevaluated her and took a different tack. “As you might be aware, we can put some elements together and create new ones. Organics from organics and inorganics from like. Not one from the other, and some combinations of elements won’t combine at all. Why do you think so?”

And so began a conversation like none other that Haru had participated in, beyond his wildest dreams. (A virtue: Haru could talk and talk and talk, but he could also listen. With colleagues and scholars—and his brilliant, incredible wife—he could sit spellbound for hours, with little to say but “Please, continue!”)

He kept asking why, why, and she kept answering. Yui spoke about the shape of atoms and the charged pieces that made up them. She spoke about the bonds between elements and the shape of those bonds, all connected by little electric pieces of matter that orbited around them. Finally, he asked about the interactions of magnets and forces, about the minutiae of why some elements had so many electric bits, why the shells around each center were numbered the way they were.

“I’ve...” she paused. “ I don’t really know. This is all a guess, anyway,” she added. “None of this will be proved for decades.” Yui cleared her throat, gone hoarse with talking, and she sipped her tea.

By now, the sun had dipped from its high point to begin its journey downwards. Haru’s guard took the opportunity to hazard a reminder: “Perhaps it would be best to continue—”

“Thank you, Sarutobi-san,” interrupted Haru. “I think we shall stay sometime longer, if it suits the esteemed healer.”

Yui seemed torn, having clearly enjoyed a conversation with someone who not only followed along but also hadn’t questioned her authority. “I wouldn’t want to keep you…”

“No, not at all!” He waved her concerns aside. “Now, you were talking about proof? How would you prove this?” Haru took care to keep his voice eager and curious, letting no suggestion of incredulity or accusation color his voice. He knew how easy it was to dismiss a woman’s knowledge, intentionally or not. Why, his own darling wife needed him as a frontman to manage the business, as silly as that was—she was better than he ever could be.

With a hesitant smile, Yui began to describe a series of fantastical devices: microscopes that used electric pieces, machines that spun bits of matter fast enough to tear them open, and lightning that could split bonded compounds in two.

Haru listened eagerly, soaking up as much knowledge as he could. His ability to listen, his experience, and his surprisingly deep well of common sense gave him a fine-tuned nonsense detector. And yet, her words didn’t set it off, likely because they made sense. Likely because she admitted freely how she couldn’t prove any of it, that this was baseless speculation.

(It didn’t feel like it.)

“What about chakra? Where does this fit in?”

The two ninja, alternatively bored out of their minds and surprisingly keen to listen, perked up at Haru’s question.

And to his ongoing surprise, she laughed. “I have absolutely no idea.” Yui leaned back in her chair, taking another sip. “An energy source from another universe? A force we don’t understand? Who knows. All I know is that it seems to break all laws of the natural world.”

Haru mirrored her body language, leaning back as well. “And you know how to use it.”

“I do, but I don’t understand it.”

He made a contemplative sound. Haru liked knowing things, and Yui had done him an enormous favor by sharing. Then again, he liked knowing things, and she… was a mystery. For not the first time this journey, Haru wished that his wife was with him. She would know what to say. (Another flaw: his stubbornness, his refusal to let anything go when it caught his interest...)

“Is your knowledge supernatural?”

(... and the bluntness that resulted from it.)

This time, everyone stared at him.

Yui blinked, a mix of shock, horror, and annoyance displayed in her creasing forehead.

Haru blinked back, suddenly aware that this faux pas was inexcusable, even for him. “Anyway,” he said, moving the conversation on before it lingered like a carelessly lit firecracker between them, “I must thank you sincerely for indulging me. As a token of appreciation...”

Haru opened the bag that he had carried with him, full of physics and chemistry books that he had planned on going over with the healer—before she’d blown away every preconception and filled his minds with theories in no book before her. He chewed his lip, considering the titles, and finally picked out the one that had the most similar and detailed analysis to what she’d told him. It was mostly a comparison of elemental properties and compounds, but… Haru had noticed that despite her detailed knowledge, she’d made up many of the words for the esoteric parts of her masterful theory.

“Here,” he said, placing the book on the table. “If you want any others in my bag, do let me know. And if it pleases you, I can send you any book on any topic you desire, if you promise to share me more of your wonderful theories.” He undercut his statement with a bright smile, trying to convey that he meant it as a friend—or at least a friendly acquaintance.

Yui gave him a careful smile back, though her openness had shuttered with his blundered statement. “I’d like that,” she said.

And just like that, Haru had another puzzle he knew he had to solve: the source of her knowledge.

#sanitize fanfic #Oc-insert #naruto fanfic #extra

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