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depressedhatakekakashi · 2 years

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How To Make Mochi: An Introductory Guide by Hatake Sakumo

Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Maito Gai, Hatake Sakumo

Words: 4879

For the Naruto Calendar by @naruto-calendar I was lucky enough to work with the amazing @animetrashmuffin who blew this task out of the water and left me scrambling to catch up, but I think I managed pretty well lol

Gai stood in front of him, proud and stubborn, one hand stretched out towards him and a finger pointing directly at his nose.

“If you’re not here for a challenge,” he narrowed his eyes, still refusing to believe that Kakashi didn’t want to participate in a challenge even though they had just finished their day at the academy, “then why are you here?”

Stamping down the urge to respond with his usual sass, Kakashi held up a flyer for the Tsukimi festival. “My father told me I could invite a… friend,” he explained, a little embarrassed to be admitting that he considered the overly energetic nuisance his friend. “The Tsukimi festival is tomorrow, and we have a really good spot at our house to view the moon from.”

Gai’s hand dropped to his side and his eyes bugged right out of his head. “You want me to go with you?” he asked. “As your friend?”

Turning his head away, Kakashi huffed. “Only if you want,” he grumbled under his breath. “We’re going to be making mochi and tsukimi dango at our place before the festival and I thought you might like to be there.”

His father made the best mochi for the Tsukimi festival. It was the only time he turned down missions, ensuring he had the time to sit down and make the savoury sweet with his son.

There was also the fact that the festival was guaranteed to have games that they could try out. Maybe, if Gai didn’t get on his nerves, he would agree to a competition involving one of those games.

Just one game, as a treat.

“Rival, I—”

“Just say yes or no,” Kakashi insisted. “You don’t have to come. I just thought you might enjoy it.”

Lunging forward, Gai wrapped his arms around Kakashi’s neck. “Yes!” he shouted right beside Kakashi’s ear, earning himself a hand shoving up against his face to push him away. “I would love to spend the day with you and your father, Rival!”

“Great.” Kakashi just had to remind himself that it could be worse. While Gai was over the top and a little painful on the ears, at least he was friendly. If he’d wanted to invite someone who would give him a real headache, he would have asked Obito.

A knock came on the door at precisely nine am, Gai’s cheerful voice chattering away behind the screen as Kakashi made his way from the kitchen.

“A whole day, Papa!” He cheered excitedly, causing Kakashi to roll his eyes. “And we can still meet tonight to see the moon together.”

Dai’s laughter rang in his ears. Just as loud as Gai’s, but with a bit of a deeper tone. It was a bit of a more relaxing sound if Kakashi was being honest. Almost like his own father’s laugh.

“Just focus on enjoying your day,” Dai spoke to his son softly. “Whether I see you tonight or tomorrow doesn’t matter as long as you’re having fun with your friend.”

Stopping directly in front of the door, Kakashi reached out and gently slid it open. Long, silver strands of hair fell in front of his left eye as he stared at the pair standing at his front door.

“You’re on time,” he noted.

Gai beamed. “I’m always on time.”

“Mmm.” Turning his attention to Gai’s papa, he tilted his head. “Father says you can join if you want.”

“I—oh!” Dai’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That is very sweet and I would love to, but I’m afraid I have a few missions to do today.” Patting his son on the shoulder, he stretched out a hand and gave Kakashi a thumbs up. “I will be sure to finish before the moon viewing tonight, though.”

“We’re going to view it from the backyard here.” Kakashi pointed towards the back of the house. “It has one of the best views in all of Konoha.”

“I’ll be here.” With that promise made, Dai glanced back down at Gai. “Have a good time, son. I’ll be expecting stories when we see each other again.”

Gai threw his hands up into the air. “I’ll have all of the stories for you!” he proclaimed. “And the day will be wonderful, right, Rival?”

He turned his eyes to Kakashi, excitement radiating off of him so strong that Kakashi was certain he was going to be overwhelmed by it.

“Sure,” he dismissed his friend with a bored tone. “Come on. Father already prepared everything.”

Beckoning Gai further into the house, Kakashi turned around and led him through the living room straight to the kitchen where his father was waiting for them. As soon as they stepped past the threshold into the kitchen they were both struck by a sweet aroma.

“What is that?” Gai asked as he lifted his nose a little higher into the air and sniffed. “It smells good.”

“Mochi filling,” Sakumo spoke up from his spot at the kitchen table, plates of ingredients set out all around him. “It’s a surprisingly sweet smell for what it is. The house will be smelling like it for the next week most likely.”

Rushing forward, Gai claimed one of the seats that Kakashi had set up beside his father, leaving the one directly beside his dad open for Kakashi to take. “Won’t the smell go away after a few hours?” he asked, inching in close for a good view while his father finished setting up.

“For most people, yes.” His father smiled Kakashi’s way. “A fun fact you might not know about our family though: we have quite an impressive sense of smell.”

Gai’s eyes shone with an expression of awe. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” Sakumo confirmed. “For generations, the Hatake sense of smell has been getting stronger. There hasn’t been much research into it, though Tsunade once commented on it being because of how much time we spend with the hounds.”

Sliding into the chair between them, Kakashi groaned when Gai leaned a little too much into his space. “Is that true, Rival?” Gai asked. “Is your sense of smell really that strong?”

“Strong enough to smell the dango on your breath.”

“Kakashi,” his father bumped his elbow against his shoulder gently, “be nice.”

“I am being nice,” he argued. “It’s just a statement of fact. I can smell the dango on his breath.”

Honesty was rewarded with a disbelieving stare, but Kakashi didn’t allow it to bother him. It wasn’t his fault that his father thought everything he said was dripping with sarcasm and annoyance. That was just a result of his tone of voice. Something he couldn’t and didn’t want to change.

“I thought we were here to make mochi?” he commented, wishing to return to the task at hand rather than his inability to sound nice and cheerful like his father wanted. “Let’s focus on that instead.”

Silence enveloped the room for just a second. Just long enough for Kakashi to realize that neither his father nor Gai was saying anything. Before Kakashi could get used to the sweet sound of silence, though, it was shattered by the sound of laughter. Gai’s boisterous laughter mixed with his father’s more subtle chuckling. Two very different sounds that blended perfectly. At least, it sounded perfect to Kakashi’s ears.

“Kakashi,” his father attempted to cover his laughter with a hand, but it did little to silence the sound, “I’m sorry. I—”

“You’re so serious, Rival.” Gai was laughing so hard that he almost fell backwards off of his chair, only being saved from crashing when Kakashi reached out and grabbed his arm to support him.

“Serious?” He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was confused.

Were the two of them laughing at him because he wanted to keep making mochi? Was his insistence on continuing what they had planned to do so hilarious to them?

“Sorry.” His dad’s laughter settled into a chuckle. “You’re just so cute when you get like that.”

“When I get like what?” he asked, ignoring the fact that his father had just referred to him as ‘cute’ in front of his friend.

“Well…” His father paused to think. “Sometimes when you speak it’s very…blunt.”

His eyes narrowed. “Am I supposed to lie?”

“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Sakumo chuckled. “It’s just that not everyone understands.”

“That sounds like a problem for them, not me.”

The two of them threw their heads back, their laughter ringing out even louder than before. Finally having enough of it, he reached towards his father and flicked him square in the forehead.

“Ow.” A hand came up and rubbed the offending area. “What was that for?”

“Making fun of me.”

“I wasn’t—” His father cut himself off when Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “I just thought it was cute.”

“I’m not cute.” Kakashi crossed his arms over his chest. Beside him Gai continued to snicker, only saving himself from receiving a scolding of his own when he placed a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. “Can we just make the mochi, please?”

“Right.” Ignoring the poorly suppressed laugh that escaped his father’s mouth, Kakashi straightened himself up and stared at the empty spot that had been cleared for rolling the mochi. “Are you two paying attention?”

“Yes,” Kakashi grumbled under his breath.

“Yosh!” Gai followed up as he pumped a fist into the air.

“Good.” His father reached towards the bag of cornstarch he had set off to the side and came back with a small handful of the ingredient. “First, we need to prepare the area.” He dusted the table with cornstarch, covering just a small section of the table directly in front of himself. “This will keep the mochi from sticking to the table.”

Both Kakashi and Gai leaned forward, fighting a little for a good vantage point to see just what Sakumo was doing. Every move his father made Kakashi took down, stashing it away in his memory banks for use later when it was his turn to make a ball of mochi. Behind him, Gai reached out towards the dusted surface, only to have his hand smacked away by Kakashi.

“Ow, Rival,” he whimpered, rubbing the wounded area while staring at Kakashi with sad eyes. “I just wanted to see.”

“You can see with your eyes,” Kakashi reminded him. “Besides, Father said we’d get to try to make mochi after he showed us how. You should pay attention.”

“Kakashi.” His father’s tone cut through him like a kunai. With the perfect amount of disappointment in his tone, he successfully made Kakashi feel terrible for his choice to smack Gai’s hand. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry for smacking your hand,” Kakashi grumbled, immediately regretting his decision to listen to his father when Gai lunged forward to hug him.

“Your passion for today’s lesson is admirable, Rival!” Gai declared so loud that Kakashi could feel his ears ringing. “While my hand may have stung for a moment, I could never hold it against you when all you were doing was trying to learn something important to you.”

With every word he said, Gai hugged him a bit tighter, slowly squeezing the very breath out of his lungs until Kakashi was forced to look back at his father for help. Unfortunately for him, the older man seemed to be enjoying the scene too much to register that his son was struggling to breathe at that very moment.

“I knew you would make friends one day,” Sakumo chuckled as he took one more small handful of cornstarch and filled in a few spots that had been missed in the initial sprinkle. “Now, if you’re done hugging the life out of my son I can continue.”

Gai released his hold on Kakashi immediately and sat back a little, a hint of red tinting his cheeks as he watched Kakashi suck in a deep, burning breath into his deprived lungs. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you, Rival.”

Giving himself a moment to catch his breath, Kakashi found a newfound appreciation for the ability to breathe. He’d never realized just how much he would miss something that happened so naturally until this moment.

He’d have to be more careful about Gai’s hugs in the future.

“Mochi? Please?” he requested, noting the slight burning sensation that lingered in his throat. “You can focus all of that energy on our next spar. Maybe you’ll actually win.”

Though, he doubted that. Gai still had a long way to go before he reached his level.

“If it would help,” his dad piped up, “we could talk about something else while I show you. Kakashi’s a visual learner so interrupting his line of sight can result in him getting rather annoyed.”

“Talk about something else?” Gai asked. “Like what?”

“Well…” Leaning his head back, Sakumo stared up at the ceiling as he sorted through the options in his head. “It is the Tsukimi festival tonight,” he offered, turning his head to look at the two boys at his side. “Is there anything regarding that you’d like to talk about?”

Slapping his hands down on Kakashi’s shoulders, Gai lifted himself a little over him and grinned. “The story of the Rabbit,” he requested with far too much enthusiasm for Kakashi’s liking. “Papa always tells me the story of the Rabbit on the moon every year!”

Kakashi refrained from knocking Gai off of him and opted instead to simply roll his eyes when his father began to laugh.

“The rabbit on the moon, hmmm?” Sakumo leaned his head back just a bit, making a show of thinking it over. “That is a rather interesting story, but I think I might have a better one.”

Gai’s fingers dug into his shoulders, earning him a light jab in the stomach. “Oof, Rival what— oh, sorry.” He retracted his hand, releasing Kakashi from the painful grip. Settling back at Kakashi’s side he grinned when the young Hatake scooched over just a bit so he could see what Sakumo was doing.

“Well, you know about the Rabbit on the moon, but has your Papa ever told you the story of how the Rabbit came to live up there?”

Kakashi was certain that if his friend’s eyes got any wider they would fall right out of his head. “Dad, stop teasing him,” he scoffed. “There’re no rabbits on the moon.”

“Oh,” Sakumo tilted his head, “I’m sorry, I forgot I was speaking to the expert. When did you learn to fly to the moon again?”

Keeping his mouth shut was the only option Kakashi had. No matter what he said next, his father had won and all of them knew it. Even Gai was snickering behind his hand, enjoying a rare moment where Kakashi had lost an argument.

Worst of all, he’d lost to sass. A trait that people often attributed to him, even when he wasn’t trying to be sassy, all while forgetting that he had to get it from one of his parents. That parent just so happened to be his mother, according to what little information he got about her from his father, but living with two people who were ‘full of sass’ had rubbed off on the older Hatake.

Satisfied with Kakashi’s failure to come up with an appropriate response, Sakumo returned his attention to the table. “Now, where was I?” he asked, grabbing another ball of red bean paste and beginning the process of making his second ball of mochi.

Uninterested in the story, Kakashi focused his full attention back on his father’s hands and allowed Gai to lean over his back. “You were going to tell us a story,” Gai answered. “About how the rabbit ended up living on the moon.”

“Right.” Kakashi stared at his hands. Entranced by every move his hands made from placing the red bean paste into the centre of the dough, to the way his fingers would carefully pinch the dough shut around the filling. “Well, one day the man on the moon decided that he was lonely—”

“Man on the moon?” Gai placed his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders. “There was a man on the moon?”

“Hardly,” Kakashi scoffed, earning himself a glare from his father. “What? It’s just a fable.”

“To you,” Sakumo sighed. “Other people like hearing this story.”

“That doesn’t make it real.”

“It has to be real,” Gai insisted, shoving his hands down harder into Kakashi’s shoulders. “A man on the moon with a rabbit. That sounds like the most amazing thing ever, how can it not be real?”

“It’s even better than that,” Sakumo continued, sparing a quick glare for Kakashi when he opened his mouth to protest. “As I was saying, the man on the moon decided one day that he was lonely and took a trip down to earth to find a companion. He wanted to find the nicest animal in the entire world to take back to the moon with him.”

“The nicest animal in the world?” Kakashi perked up, suddenly more interested in the story his father was telling than the mochi he was making. “That’s easy. Dogs.”

“Well—”

“No!” Gai protested, shoving his hands down harder until Kakashi disappeared from his spot, leaving on a log in his place. With nothing to hold onto anymore, Gai went crashing over the chair.

“Dogs are the nicest animals in the world,” Kakashi insisted, peering down at Gai from his new spot atop the kitchen counter. “There’s not an animal in the world that’s nicer than dogs.”

“I think you’ll find dogs are loyal,” Sakumo argued as he placed his half-completed ball of mochi down on the table and reached out to help Gai back to his feet. “They’re nice of course. If you’re their human.”

“Pakkun is nice to everyone.”

“I think you’re only seeing his good qualities.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Now recovered from his little tumble, Gai turned towards Kakashi and stamped his feet. “The nicest animal in the world is a tortoise!”

“Now boys—” Sakumo tried to call out to them but was promptly ignored when Kakashi jumped off of the counter and landed directly in front of Gai.

“Dogs,” Kakashi argued.

“Tortoises,” Gai fired back.

Seeing a lost cause in front of him, Sakumo stepped forward and gently placed a hand over each of their chests, pushing them back just enough so he could step between them. “I thought I was telling a story?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kakashi huffed. “Dogs are the nicest animal ever,” he grumbled under his breath. “Everyone knows this.”

“I think you’re looking at this issue with a little bit of bias,” Sakumo chuckled when he glared up at him. “It’s alright. We all have our favourite animals. It only makes sense that we would want to vouch for them in a situation like this.��

“Tortoises are also nice,” Gai beamed. His enthusiasm never wavered, even when he was in the middle of an argument. “They’re always so gentle and sweet when I visit them near the lake and they’re so happy to see me holding some lettuce.”

Happy tortoises.

Kakashi was certain that his friend was making things up. There was no way a tortoise could express happiness in a way humans would understand, even if they could experience such emotion. They weren’t like ninken after all.

They couldn’t speak to Gai.

“Well, I think both of those options are very good for the award of ‘Kindest animal in the world’.” Sakumo smiled down at them. “But this story is about a different animal, and I’d like to finish telling you about it.”

Peering around his father’s body, Kakashi sighed when he saw Gai smiling at him. It seemed like the other boy never stopped smiling, no matter what was going on around him. The two of them could argue worse than the one they just did, and he was sure Gai would still be smiling at the end of it.

“Tortoises are pretty cool,” he grumbled, grunting when Gai lunged around his father and wrapped his arms around his neck. Thankfully, this time, his friend restrained himself enough to avoid choking the life out of him.

“Dogs are also very cool,” Gai giggled. “And Pakkun is the nicest dog I’ve ever met.”

Patting his friend on the back, Kakashi glanced back over at the table. Everything was still sitting out, waiting for them to return to their spots and continue where they had left off.

“Anyways,” he waited for Gai to release his hold on him and then took a step back and looked up at his father, “keep telling your story, dad.”

Sakumo simply stood there staring down at him, a tired look on his face. “One of these days.” He shook his head and sighed as he stepped past the boys and took his seat at the table again. “One day you will just apologize without being asked.”

Kakashi wasn’t so convinced. Apologizing seemed ridiculous when all he had done was defend the honour of all dogs against a story that would paint any other animal as nicer than them, and a friend who was determined to do the same as him but for tortoises.

“Can you continue the story?” Gai asked as he burst past Kakashi and reclaimed his spot at the table. “The man came down to earth to find the nicest animal in the world. What animal was it?”

“Well,” Sakumo glanced over Gai at him, “the man dressed himself up as a beggar and explored the world searching for that animal, stopping when he came upon three animals sitting together. A monkey, fox and rabbit.”

While Gai listened intently, Kakashi made his way over to the table and took his spot once more. As soon as he was comfortable he focused his full attention back on his father’s hands as they gathered up the mochi he’d been working on so diligently before Gai and Kakashi’s argument.

“Now, the man had a very simple request for the three animals.” Sakumo pinched the mochi, closing the dough around the ball of red bean paste. “He told them that he was very hungry, and asked if there was anything they had that he could eat.” Once he was finished pinching the dough he carefully rolled it between his palms a few times, smoothing it out into a ball. “The fox ran off towards the river and returned with some fish, while the monkey jumped into the trees and collected some fruits to share. Both of them presented the beggar with the food that they had gathered, but the Rabbit had nothing to give except for the grass under their feet.”

“Bleh.” Gai scrunched up his face in disgust. “Grass isn’t a good meal.”

“How would you know?” Kakashi asked, concerned enough about his friend’s apparent eating habits that he dragged his eyes away from the newly formed mochi and looked over his shoulder at Gai. “But it’s the rabbit on the moon, right?”

Thinking about it, Gai nodded. “It is,” he agreed. “So that means that the rabbit had to have something to offer the man from the moon.”

Kakashi’s father chuckled. “You two are correct,” he confirmed. “Realizing that he didn’t have much to offer, the rabbit asked the beggar to build a fire. Once the man had done as he was asked, the rabbit jumped into the flames and offered himself up as a meal.”

Gai gasped. “But…why would he do that?”

“It was the only food the rabbit had to offer,” Kakashi whispered. “Even at the cost of its own life.”

Sakumo grinned. “That’s right. The man was so amazed by the rabbit’s generosity that he transformed back into his usual form and rescued the rabbit from the fire. He took him to the moon to live with him, To reward him for his generosity”

“But…” Gai bit his lip.

Kakashi wasn’t sure how, but he felt like he understood what was weighing on Gai’s mind. Perhaps because he had a similar question dancing around in his head. Something about the story just didn’t make any sense.

“Why not all of them?” he blurted out.

Sakumo raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”

“Well, all three of the animals were exceptionally kind,” he explained. “The fox and the monkey didn’t ignore the beggar’s request for food. They both got him something to eat.”

“The rabbit offered itself out of kindness,” Gai whispered. “But wasn’t it also a little desperate? It didn’t have fruits to give like the monkey, and it’s not skilled at fishing like the fox.”

A smile stretched across his father’s lips. “You know, I’ve heard that story a lot in my life and I don’t think anyone has ever asked that question before.” His hands continued to work, picking out another ball of dough and pressing it into the counter with his palm. “You make a valid point. The fox and monkey were kind. That kindness deserves to be recognized.” Choosing a ball of red bean paste, he placed it in the centre of the dough and began pinching the edges together until it was sealed shut.

“That’s right.” Gai laid a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder. “Every act of kindness is important. That’s what my Papa always says. It doesn’t matter how little you can help, just that you help when you can.”

“That’s a good rule to live by.” Smoothing out the ball between his palms, he placed it in the dish with the other completed mochi and picked up another dough ball. “I think the man on the moon made the right choice.”

“Maybe,” Gai whispered while Kakashi’s father picked up another dough ball and squished it against the counter. “I still think a tortoise would have been a better choice.”

“Dogs,” Kakashi whispered under his breath, not wanting to start another fight with Gai but determined to make sure his opinion was heard. “Dogs are man’s best friend. How could someone choose a rabbit over a dog?”

“And that is your opinion to have,” Sakumo chuckled. “But I like the story the way it is, personally.”

A rabbit on the moon. In a world full of amazing animals it seemed silly to Kakashi that anyone would choose to bring a rabbit to the moon for companionship. If they were looking for a friend, wouldn’t a human be better, or a dog?

Thinking about it, he turned his head and stared at Gai without saying a thing. His mind worked over the question of who he would take if it was him. Who or what he would want to spend the rest of his time with if there was no one else to keep him company?

“I— is there something on my face?” Gai asked as he reached up and ran a hand over his chin, wiping away an imaginary spot.

“No,” Kakashi sighed when a realization hit him. “I was just thinking.”

Gai grinned, wide and brilliant. The same smile he always had on his face whenever he saw Kakashi. “You’re always thinking, Rival. That’s part of why you’re so cool!”

Reaching a hand over his shoulder, Kakashi poked his friend in the forehead. “You’re cool too,” he stated, a little annoyed that Gai got to hear it far less than he did. “Dorky and over the top, but that’s nothing new to me.”

After all, he had the dorkiest dad in all of Konoha. If he could survive being raised by a man who panicked whenever Kakashi sassed someone, or if someone even questioned his parenting style, then he could happily tolerate having a bit of extra dorkiness in his life.

“Kakashi—”

Sensing a conversation he did not want to have, Kakashi pointed down at the table. “There are still a lot of mochis to make,” he reminded his friend. “And we still haven’t had a chance to try and make some ourselves.”

“Of course!” Gai threw an arm up into the air and cheered. “Just watch Rival. I’ll make the most beautiful ball of mochi you have ever seen. Even better than yours!”

Better than his, Kakashi could accept. This would only be his first chance at trying to make mochi and diligently watching his father do it didn’t guarantee he’d get it right the first time. Even if it did look easy.

The most beautiful ball of mochi ever, though, Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to believe. No one in the world could make mochi as beautiful as the one’s sitting on the table in front of them. It just wasn’t possible and he refused to believe that Gai would be able to do it. If he said that, though, his father would get upset with him.

He never liked it when Kakashi was unnecessarily harsh, even if what he was saying was true. So, rather than telling Gai the truth, he just shrugged his shoulders instead. “As long as we have enough for all of us to eat, right, Dad?”

Sakumo threw his head back and laughed.

“We’ll make enough for the entire village,” Gai declared as he draped his arms over Kakashi’s shoulders and hugged him from behind. “And it’ll be the best mochi they have ever had. You’ll see.”

That Kakashi wouldn’t argue with.

#Naruto Calendar #Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Hatake Sakumo #Tsukimi Festival

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kunikinnie · 2 years

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fukuzawa wants to go on a date

BSD: Love is War? 100 Followers Event Genre: fluff, pining Word count: 1.6k Warnings: none, I think Synopsis: There is a fine line between a friendly and romantic date. a/n: YES I FINALLY FINISHED ONE after how many months,,, yes I stole the idea from the current Mayoi event lol. Also ngl this feels SO different from any of the other fics under this prompt i'm so sorry

Fukuzawa Yukichi is a man of few words. This makes whatever he says all the more important and heavier in weight, and even the slightest hint of his true feelings was noticed by anyone.

That is, anyone but you.

“It’s because you’re too subtle,” Ranpo once said to him. “At this rate you’ll only ever be a friend to Y/N.”

He wasn’t wrong, Fukuzawa knew that well, yet he just wasn’t programmed to be bolder. You’ve been friends for so long that he was genuinely afraid of what you’ll think of him if he tried to be more honest about his feelings.

Hahh. If only fate could be a little kinder…

---

“I bought you a little something, Yu-kun. It sort of reminds me of you.”

You handed out a keychain of what appears to be a cat in samurai clothing. He smiled softly as he accepted your gift, not just because he appreciated the gift but also because his heart fluttered at your last sentence.

You and a mutual friend of yours went to a feudal Japan themed park over the weekend before you left the country for a few weeks. It wasn’t unusual for you to hang out with close friends one-on-one even in far trips like this, but…

“Nao-kun even said it looks like you,” you chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s the one who said that, not me!”

Fukuzawa wasn’t annoyed at the comment itself. His mind had wandered to that one thought he’s been suppressing for some time now.

Haven’t you been hanging out with him a little too frequently?

Sure, he’s the one who always invites you to these little escapades. Sure, you think they’re just friendly “dates” (why do you even use the term?) as with any other person. But what if the day comes when he invites you as something more than a friend? What would you do?

“You should just ask Y/N out. It’s not that hard!” A little imaginary Ranpo exclaimed in his right ear.

Fukuzawa ignored the tiny menace and focused on your stories about your weekend. Your soothing voice and bubbly excitement were enough to squish the nuisance to oblivion.

It’s always somewhat bothered him that you yourself never asked him to go out with you – even just as a friend. Aren’t you close? You’ve had wild adventures alone with people who were barely acquaintances, but the most you’ve ever invited Fukuzawa to was for drinks at a fancy bar after a long week. Did you just not like him enough?

“Which reminds me,” your tone suddenly changed, snapping him out of his thoughts “Are you free next Saturday?”

No, no he wasn’t. Morning ‘til night he was swamped. “What for?”

“I was thinking that maybe we should go watch that movie you were talking about last. Dinner’s on me, too! I feel like I owe you this much, plus I’m not going to see you for some time after I leave this Sunday.”

The little imaginary Ranpo popped up beside his ear once more.

“Damn that’s unlucky.”

“Be quiet.”

---

The rains were pouring heavier than ever.

The windows were being battered by water and wind and the steel skies made noon seem like night. That meant no difference in Fukuzawa’s workload, however, and he continued to read and sign papers like usual.

The tea Haruno had just placed before him would cool down faster than normal, he had to remind himself. There’s no enjoyment in drinking cold tea that tastes like lead.

The noise from the storm outside grows louder yet for Fukuzawa there was a sort of comfort in it. His thoughts eased by the warm tea felt secure; it was as if only he could hear them. Not that many people could (even Ranpo sometimes doesn’t get what he’s thinking) – nevertheless, he let his mind and heart wander together for a moment.

You had promised to keep your Saturday free just in case his would turn up free as well. Since then he’d been hoping that somehow his meetings would just disappear, yet it seems that even if that did happen the heavy rains prevented any “date” from taking place at all.

His eyes landed on his untouched phone. Would it hurt to ask if he could meet you once more before you left? It was already in the middle of the work week and you must have already made plans with other important people in your life. As much as he didn’t want to intrude, he just couldn’t resist the desire to meet you again. He just had to. Even if you were just going to grab something quick to eat. Even if it was just a short walk to the station. Even if it was just for a single passing moment.

He was afraid that he might never see you again.

“President,” Haruno knocked and peeked inside. “I’m here to confirm your schedule for the rest of the week until the next. Some clients rescheduled their meetings…”

She continued to explain things for him, scribbling on the clipboard she placed on his desk. His mind barely took in any information but one portion stood out to him.

“They wanted to move it from Saturday afternoon to Tuesday morning…”

As she finally ended her rundown of the next 7 days’ schedule, he glanced once more at the portion for this Saturday’s activities.

“That means there’s nothing by Saturday afternoon?”

“Yes, sir.”

The moment she left, he quickly picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number.

---

Fukuzawa prayed unusually hard that morning. Please let this afternoon be spared from the storm, he begged, or else the trains may stop working and you’d have to cancel. Not now when he put in the extra effort and anxiety into today’s affairs.

He bothered to wear something a little different. Still the usual yukata but the fabric and colors were slightly more refined. One would assume that he simply had an important event that night and not think about it twice. But of course there were some who knew the truth.

“Don’t worry too much about it, Boss.” The real Ranpo surfaced from the Agency’s couch. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Fukuzawa grumbled in response. The weather wasn’t the only thing that was unpredictable, he thought, and it’s not like he had much experience to prepare for this in the first place.

“As long as you’re honest it’s gonna be fine,” the detective repeated.

But could he really be, given that he’s been trying to hide these feelings for so long?

So far, only the warm sun and sparse clouds filled the bright sky. Now he was waiting patiently for you to arrive at the garden you wanted to walk around at. It had a traditional sort of arrangement, one which he very much liked. He wondered if that meant you had chosen this place out of consideration for him but he quickly dispelled the thought the moment his heart began to latch onto it.

Fortunately, his mind didn’t have to wander for much longer.

“Yu-kun!”

You waved your hand as you ran to him, not at all worried if you slip on the pavement. The uncontrollable thrill at seeing him in a setting like this had made your legs move faster than you thought they could.

“D-did you wait long?”

“Not at all,” he replied, a small smile present on his lips.

There weren’t as many people in the garden as he had hoped. Just like the weather, things seemed to be going well. Too well, even. Your conversation was nothing short of meaningful and pleasant, and the scenery had only heightened the experience.

Suddenly, a drop of water tickled your nose.

“Is it drizzling?”

Before either of you knew it the rain began to fall. With only one umbrella at hand you two dashed for the nearest gazebo, both of your garment almost getting completely soaked by the sudden downpour.

“I guess dinner will have to wait…”

Your eyes were glued to the skies but your mind was fixed on the man beside you. Without him saying a word, you could tell he was beyond disappointed. That was the last thing you wanted from the person whose smile you wanted to see the most.

The shame clung to you more than patches of your wet clothes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I should have-“ the words got caught up in your throat. Now was not the time to be emotional. “I knew this might happen and yet I chose this place. I’m sorry-“

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault.”

His low voice was softer than usual so you had to scoot over closer to hear him. The rain had dampened not just his words but also his temperament, it seems. But had you moved an inch closer you might have noticed the conflicted yet bashful expression on his face.

“There’s… something I’ve been curious about since I called.”

“Yeah?”

“If I said today were to be a proper date, would you have come?”

His eyes remained focused on the grey sheet covering the garden, yet his ears were still attentive to your small gasp. He wasn’t ready to look at your face let alone your feet from the embarrassment. Strange how even at his age his entire body managed to react so violently.

“I-“ Your lips struggled to form the words your heart had been screaming since the very beginning. “O-of course I would.”

Finally, his head slowly turned to face your own. Surprised eyes met gleeful ones, and soon they all softened just the same. For several silent but serene moments, only the sound of the pouring rain and beating hearts filled the space.

“Can I ask you something, then?”

“Of course.”

“If I asked you out on a date after I come back, would you say yes?”

Your cheeks began to turn scarlet the moment you spoke and only darkened when he chuckled lightly. This warmer side of Fukuzawa felt so surreal to you that if he hadn’t gently grazed his calloused fingers on yours, you might have thought this was all a dream.

“Yes I would, without question.”

#bsd #fukuzawa yukichi #fukuzawa x reader #fukuzawa x you #fukuzawa x y/n

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

56. “You have no idea how much i want you.”

92. “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!”

notes; hot-yoga-instructor!chan, rivals!au, a wee(a lot) bit of dom!chan, mirror fucking, fingering, a widdol cum play, dirty talk, degradation! 🥂 🎉 YALL TO FINISH OUT THIS WELLNESS!AU thank you so much for your interest as always, this was a fun cycle and I can’t wait for the next one! 🥰🥳 Also this is almost 2k words so… sorry about that LOL 😆 A reminder that next week I’m gonna reupload the fics that got taken down by tumb1r before starting a new cycle for drabbles~! A bit of a nuisance but oh well dfdskjhf 😭💕 As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

*queued post

You sit at the back of Chan’s class - lips pursed into a firm line at the way he smiles and effortlessly encourages his clients.

“You’re all doing great! Let’s move into another position now, okay? Don’t worry, nothing too hard, I promise~” He grins, fingertips pushing his sweaty hair back and out of his face before his eyes meet your own.

There’s a glint in his eyes that has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Chan knew he was charming and he made use of it - using those annoying charms to get people to sign up for his hot yoga classes in a blink of an eye while you sometimes struggled to get new clients for your normal yoga classes.

You, however, were not phased by his boyish charms and smoldering eyes - or so you told yourself.

‘Staff Contest! Instructor with the most new sign-ups and clients will receive a voucher for a resort stay for two people!’

“Wait, what? Where’s this from?” You ask; yoga mat rolled up underneath your arm as you stare at the big, neon flyer pasted up on the wall in the employee room.

Soonyoung shrugs at you, “I think ‘Shua put it up. Management said that we should be advertising more and taking on more clients so they’re trying to give us an incentive. I think it’s also, like, a week off of work, paid, if you win.”

Chan all but barrels towards the flyer himself, slightly pushing you to the side as he reads it over. “Oh man, I’m gonna win that. A resort vacation and it’s paid time off? Sorry, but this is mine~” He singsongs.

You scoff back in return, nudging him with your yoga mat before turning to leave.

“Sorry, but I think it’s mine. Nobody wants to take your sweaty class anyway.”

Chan rolls his eyes at your retreating back; lips easing into a smirk.

“Come sit in on one of my classes if you think so. I’ll get you sweating faster than you think.”

The flashback has you pursing your lips again - you don’t even know why you agreed.

It’s ‘cause he’s hot, and his white tee sticks to his abs when he starts to sweat, your mind screams at you.

Shut up.

“Okay class, we’ll end here for today! I see a lot of new faces in today’s class so I probably shouldn’t overwork you all, huh?” He finishes with a friendly laugh as he sits on his own yoga mat, brushing the sweat from his brow as people start to pack up to leave.

He praises everyone on their way out; small words of encouragement making their faces light up as they say their goodbyes.

And you did have to give it to him in the end - he was a good instructor and was very meticulous with his students. Not to mention, friendly and inviting in the way he made everyone feel welcome.

But you still wanted to win more than anything.

The class empties out after a few more minutes and by the time the last person leaves, you’re already getting up from your own spot at the back of the class and making your way over to Chan.

“Well? What did I tell you? There’s a reason why there’s so many new clients in my class. Sorry that you---mmph!”

You shove him down, straddling his thighs as you grind down onto him.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” you moan, “Shut up for ten minutes and just fuck me, will you?”

Admittedly, you might’ve fucked Chan once before.

“Mmh, y-yeah, right t-there! Fuck, feels so goooood…”

The two of you had been at a party held by management and the two of you had one too many drinks before you’d stumbled into one of the empty studios - hands all over each other as you raced to get enough clothes off before Chan fucked you on the floor in the middle of the room.

You’d never spoken of it since and even though Chan never brought it up either, there was always a knowing look in his eyes whenever he’d glance your way.

“Fuck, your tight ‘lil cunt feels so fuckin’ good around my cock, sweetheart~” His voice drops an octave, hips snapping into you from behind as you try to watch yourself in the foggy mirror. “And I slid right into your wet pussy like it was fuckin’ made for me… Wanna tell me what you were thinkin’ about while you were sitting in on my class?”

Your hand swipes off some of the condensation off of the glass - your own hazy eyes greeting you in the mirror as you moan and clench around him when the head of his cock grazes your g-spot.

“T-thinking about that--that resort stay that, mmh, I’m g-gonna win…”

“Oh? Hmm, sounds like a lie to me…” Mumbling, he watches your expression through the glass; licking his lips at the way your face contorts in pleasure when he grinds his cock into you. “I don’t think that’d get you this wet… Ah, I was thinking more of the last time we were together…”

You whimper at the memory again; Chan had your legs bent over your head while he fucked you against the floor that time and you’d spent the entire rest of the night mingling with the other instructors with his cum soaking into your panties and trickling down your inner thighs before you’d gone home and given yourself another orgasm with your fingers soaked in his cum.

“N-no, ngh, j-just the thought of, a-ah, beating you gets me this w-wet…”

He rolls his eyes before doubling his pace out of annoyance, “Won’t you be sad when you lose though? I mean, I have people signing up everyday. I’m gonna have to start a waitlist at this point.” He boasts.

“Y-you’re not even that g-good…” Mewling, you work your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“And you are?” Chan retorts.

“Fuckin b-better than, ah, you…!”

Chan smirks, fingertips digging into the skin of your ass as he angles his thrusts to slam into your g-spot with every snap of his hips. “Are you? Or are you just good as a cocksleeve for me, huh, sweetheart? You took my cock so easily, your pretty ‘lil cunt was made for me and we both know it, don’t we?” He chuckles cockily, cock throbbing inside your walls as you whimper.

“We should do this more often, sweetheart~”

The heat from the studio and the way his cock, admittedly, fills you up perfectly makes your head spin and it’s not long before you find yourself begging him to let you cum.

“Why should I let you, hmm? After all you’ve said about me, why should I let you cum?”

Your walls clamp down onto his cock, sucking him in deeper as he growls.

“‘Cause I know you wanna fill up my filthy ‘lil cunt with your cum again, Chan~ Don’t you wanna see it pouring out of my pussy like the cocksleeve I am for you? We can cum together if you want~ I’ll compromise~”

“Fuck you.”

Your head feels fuzzy as it lolls against Chan’s shoulder - legs spread wide in front of the mirror as he fingers his cum into your cunt.

“I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, sweetheart. Watch the way my cum drips out of your spent ‘lil hole when I thrust my fingers in. You’re such a messy ‘lil thing. Tsk, ruining the yoga mat underneath you too.”

He’d taken a second earlier, after the two of you had cum, to shut off the heaters in the room - allowing the mirrors to clear up enough for you to see your entire naked body as Chan sat behind you now.

You blink slowly at the image that greets you back - Chan’s smirking face over your shoulder with his hand between your open legs, cum-soaked fingers spreading your cunt open again as you mewl.

“We’ve been at it like rabbits. How are you still horny?!” You whine; hips canting up to chase his fingers despite your own words. His cock was still hard and pressed firmly up against your lower back as you shivered under his rough touch.

He scoffs back before positioning a third finger at your entrance - his voice soft and alluring as he watches you through the mirror.

“Can’t help it. I like the way my cum looks dripping from your pussy.”

“It’s time to announce the winner of the resort voucher!” Joshua announces - beaming at the other instructors as he waves the tickets about.

You all stand in a semi-circle around him, giddy and excited to see who had won.

“Now, before I announce who won, I have to make an unfortunate announcement...” Joshua sighs, “Chan, I’m so sorry. It would’ve been you but I had to disqualify you.”

“What!?” The younger male stomps his foot disbelief written all over his face. “Wait, why the hell was I disqualified?!”

Grimacing, Joshua tries to get Chan to calm down. “We had an anonymous complaint that said they… saw some unsavory activities happening in your studio. And as a reminder to you all, please don’t use your studios for those kind of activities... You know, we don’t allow that so…” The older male trails off, hoping that Chan gets the hint. There’s a few snickers in the room, but Chan isn’t that quick to give it up.

“Wait, hold on a second, that’s not--”

“Ooookay, well you heard Joshua so let’s just get on to the winner, huh? You shouldn’t dwell too much on it, to be honest. Just use it as a learning experience.” You cut Chan off, grinning at the way his face is completely flustered.

You might’ve been the anonymous complaint that started that rumour.

Just this one time, you tell yourself.

“Right, okay, so the winner is…”

Joshua calls your name, naturally, as you walk up and collect the two resort vouchers.

You grin at the other instructors who clap for you - snickering at the way Chan scowls from the semi-circle.

“Thank you so much! We all worked sooo hard so don’t be discouraged! I’m sure everyone will get a chance to win one of these contests too!”

Chan corners you later - eyes cold when he presses you up against the wall of the empty employee room.

‘Take me with you and I’ll make it worth your while,’ He’d whispered, lips kissing your cheek gently despite the chill in his voice.

‘Don’t you think you deserve to be punished for cheating?’

#dino smut #chan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #dino scenarios #dino imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #chan imagines #chan scenarios #dino #lee chan #svt fic

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sneales · 3 years

Note

Hii can I request one for jjk boys where they reject your confession initially but as time goes on they fall for you and regret that rejection

💔 JJK BOYS REJECTING YOUR CONFESSION (AND REGRETTING IT LATER) + HEADCANONS 💔

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Itadori, Megumi, Yuta, Sukuna, Toji, gender neutral reader

Genre: romance

Warnings: grammar mistakes, mention of sex in Sukuna and Toji’s parts (I don’t know how you can write about them without mentioning sex lmao)

Notes: Hello anon, actually my hugest headcanon for a Gojo x reader is that he rejects the confession at first (I’d like to expand it some day and write a proper fanfiction, but I wonder when I’ll have enough time to do that lol). I chose the characters I usually write about, I hope that’s ok :)

→Requests are open!

Gojo

I think he’s interested in you in a “I want to spend a night with this person” way, but he doesn’t really try to pursue you because he realized you have deeper feelings for him.

He flirts with you from time to time, but he soon pulls away, leaving you confused.

You know you can’t expect much from someone like him, but you also feel there’s something between you two so you decide to confess.

He’s a bit baffled because he was not expecting you’d be brave enough to confess.

Anyway, as expected, he rejects you.

I feel Gojo is a bit oblivious of his own feelings and kinda scared of commitment and intense relationships, so it will take him a lot of time before realizing that he made a mistake.

You’ll probably have plenty of time to get over him, find another good person and even begin a serious relationship.

And he’ll realise how important you were for him exactly when he’s so close to losing you forever.

He decides to keep his feelings for himself at first, because he knows he was a prick and confessing now that you’re happy with someone else would be very uncool.

But this doesn’t last long, he’s used to fight for what he wants and being considerate and self-sacrificing is not like him.

He confesses and you might probably get angry. You’ll think he’s just being whimsical and selfish like always.

But the truth is that he has always cared for you and you were rejected the first time because he couldn’t love you the way you needed to.

Now he confesses because he knows he’s serious and he feels confident about his feelings. He knows he can make you happy.

Nanami

He tries to be as kind as possible when he rejects you.

Honestly, this makes you almost fall harder for him because he’s so considerate.

Nanami thinks of you as a good friend and a good person but I feel he’s someone who needs a lot of time before really falling for anybody and consider a relationship.

So confessing to him was probably a smart choice, since now he can’t help but picture you two in a relationship.

He needs to slowly warm up to the idea and he might realize his mistake when he thinks that being with you is comfortable and fun.

He probably feels a bit embarassed now because he knows he has made a huge mistake.

I’m sure you’ll forgive him lol

Itadori

He’ll probably feel very flattered to hear your words but he’s not ready for a relationship.

He wasn’t really expecting that since he thought of the two of you only as friends, but that definitely makes him think about many things.

It’s interesting for him that you like him, he probably wonders why him, or what is special about him.

He’s sure there must be cooler guys out there. I think he feels a bit grateful and almost proud (?) like “hey, this great person likes me! isn’t it amazing?”, it was a huge boost to his confidence basically.

He realizes he’s catching feelings for you when Nobara tells him that it was stupid to reject you if he was so happy you liked him.

He’s probably “???” when Nobara tells him that. He’ll definitely look on google “how to understand if you have a crush on your friend”.

He’ll be honest about his feelings with you, he’ll tell you about his confusion, about how cool he thinks you are and about how happy you were when you told him you liked him.

Little by little he’ll understand he loves you back.

Megumi

Like Nanami, he’ll be very polite when he rejects you.

At first he might feel a bit uncomfortable if you are around, but he’ll try his best to behave normally.

He is worried you like him only because of his looks and his strength. He doesn’t think he has any other good quality.

He’s probably thinking you idealized him and you’ll soon forget about him.

I think some persistence here might work. He won’t believe you if you simply tell “I like you”, but you should be more specific, for example “I like how kind you are” or “You got angry because you wanted me to be less reckless, right?”

Megumi likes compassionate people, he doesn’t need anything else. So he wants to be liked in the same way, he wants to be loved for what he really is.

Show him you can read right through his soul, show him that you can go beyond his looks, his power and his difficult personality.

I think that being understood and accepted for who he really is will make him fall for you.

Yuta

He was so close to accept your confession because he hates hurting you, but he knows that would be wrong.

He feels as if he’s done the worst thing to you, so instead of distancing himself a bit from you, or becoming more careful with you, he actually begins hanging around you more often.

He often asks you if you’re ok or if you need anything.

You tell him it’s ok and he doesn’t need to be so concerned, it’s as if he is the one that got rejected lol

He can’t help thinking about you, and your confession opened him to new scenarios.

He has always considered you as his favourite person, but does that mean he likes you? How thin is the line between a person you like as a friend and a person you like as a lover?

When he’ll realize that maybe he likes you back, he’ll feel so bad about it and so stupid, if only he had realized it faster you wouldn’t have suffered because of him.

Nonetheless, he tells his feelings to you and you begin dating, but I think a part of him will always feel bad about the rejection.

Sukuna

I really appreciate your courage, I’m sure you don’t fear rejection because if you confess to him he won’t have any delicacy when he turns you down.

But… he thinks you’re really hot so he’ll propose some sex to you.

Now it’s your turn to reject him, you know him too well and you don’t want to be used by him.

Sukuna was never rejected, so I think this will give him a lot of complex feelings.

You just said you liked him, but you don’t want to sleep with him? Are you crazy?

Being unable to fulfill his desires simply make him desire for you more and more.

To the point he’ll tell you “You can keep liking me, but lemme f*ck you” and that’s ok for you, you can’t expect a more romantic line from him lmao

Toji

You need the same amount of courage you had when you confessed to Sukuna.

He thinks you’re hot too, but honestly your feelings are a nuisance for him, he doesn’t want anything serious with you.

Unlike Sukuna, he can keep his lust under control, so really even if he’s desperate for some sex, his decision to keep you at distance is more important than his instincts.

He really needs a change of mind before realising he made a mistake.

I think you really need to be a smart player here too, like Sukuna was stirred up by your rejection, here you should probably stick close to him.

The hardest Toji wants to think about something else, the closer you should try to get to him.

Seduce him, invite him, use every weapon you have because he’ll surrender to his urges sooner or later.

Persistence works and it feels like conquering a walled city.

#gojo x reader #nanami x reader #itadori x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #key word for the fushiguros: persistence

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 1- She Ran With Wolves

Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader Series Re-write (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: You’re a survivor, always have been and always will be. After narrowly escaping the clutches of Hydra years ago, you’ve been keeping to the shadows for as long as time allows. With Hydra suddenly exposed and your secrets in the open, you’re on the hunt for the last part of your past, but is he ready to see you again?

Warning: angst, talk of violence, some fluff mixed in (a little); way more to come

Masterlist

Side note- This is a TFATWS Series Re-write!!! Obviously lol, anyways. Readers powers are heavily inspired by a certain Marvel badass and I just thought her powers would work so well for this. Also they’re cool as fuck.

September, 15th 2013

Location: S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, Washington D.C.

This recent project Fury had sent her on was beginning to make itself quit the annoyance for Natasha this past of couple weeks, granted he always gave her the toughest assignments, understanding that no one else can dig up as much dirt as the Black Widow can.

But this? This was different, the target in question was practically a ghost, a legend among the ones lucky, or possibly unlucky enough to have been made aware of this dangerous individual. But no matter how much she asked around from her various secretive resources on the problem in question, this mystery person was simply just rumor to them. Or perhaps too much of a sour subject to seek into any further. Although one thing was always prevalent, people were scared.

But why?

The assassin leans back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing over her features as she stares bitterly down at the top secret file gifted to her by Fury himself. Suddenly a door closes, she shuts the file in an instant, only to be greeted with the apologetic face of Steve as he walks past her.

“Sorry. Fury told me you would be in here.” Begins Steve as he takes the nearby couch, something small and metal in his right hand, “Said you were assigned some impossible case. How’s it going so far?”

Letting out a jaded sigh, she shifts her gaze over to the window, “The absolute vagueness of this person is....frustrating to say the least. All I’ve been able to gather is that they’ve been part of some top secret experimentation on pregnant women. Somehow they’re involved with it....I just, gotta figure out how.” She adds with a conflicted expression dancing across her features.

Steve hums in thought, “Sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.” Mutters Natasha unenthusiastically as her green irises shift back down to the annoying little file.

Steve palms the object in his hand before gaining his friends attention once again, “Here. Fury told me to give this to you.” Her brows furrow in thought as she reaches over and quickly accepts the strange hard drive looking object, “I think this will help. It has the location of the target and who they are. That’s it.....Well, the last reported location.”

“How did he?” She wonders aloud, face suddenly breaking out into an irked grin, “Fury you son of a bitch, about time I found a legitimate lead.”

——

Sitting on her comfortable apartment couch, Natasha sifts through the various encrypted files from the hard drive that’s currently plugged into her laptop. So far she’s spent about two hours breaking through the various encrypted file blockers and now at long last has finally made some real progress.

Studying the brightly glowing screen, she moves her finger, clicking another coded link that reads -V13X11- she’s immediately greeted with a black screen and the slightly blurred picture of a woman’s face who’s looking rather stoic and fearless against the camera flash. Her eyes are set and hard as stone, dark and almost angry behind lips that show the ghost of a forced smile. She’s noticeably an overall attractive woman, in kind of a terrifying and intimidating sort of way, like looking at a fierce lioness standing valiantly against a foe; nonetheless she stares defiantly at the person behind the camera.

Her eye color, weight, date of birth, and presumably patient number, that's printed in big bold letters 00X13 on the glowing screen, right below her squared portrait. Furrowing her brows, Natasha scrolls down to see about a paragraph long of personal information given about the woman. Including, to the red heads tremendous surprise, a birth name, Y/N Valerious.

Oddly enough, the name indeed sounds a tad bit familiar, though she can’t quit place from where.

The file states that she was raised in a facility on the outskirts of Surinda, Russia; someplace in Siberia, close to the heart of the mammoth country. Trained by the organization Hydra and summitted into inhuman experimentation by the specific facility that held her, however the rest is all encrypted and impossible to translate into something comprehensible much to Natasha’s utter disappointment.

Huffing in frustration, she slips out the hard drive before shutting down her laptop and slamming it shut. The room is darker by now with the sun gone, and tomorrow it appears that Natasha will be off to Sweden to confront this woman, Y/N, in hopes of gathering valuable intel into the people who created her, and any important information regarding her troubled past.

If she’s willing to comply.

——

Closing your laptop, you stand and wander over to the opened window to stretch before taking a deep breath of freshly brisk winter air. The land here in Uppsala, Sweden is more beautiful and peaceful then you could have ever imagined since renting an apartment two months ago. In fact, this is probably the longest you’ve ever stayed in one spot since abandoning the life of an assassin many years ago.

Though you know it won’t be much longer until you leave again, but you can’t just yet, there happens to be a certain agent on her way to find you. Fury unknowingly received your encrypted hard drive with opened arms, foolishly under the impression it was sent from an old friend when he reached out for answers into your complicated history. Then when the Black Widow eventually clicked open your link, bam, you could see everything she was nosily sifting through. Everything you wanted her to see. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if something dramatic happened to the people over in D.C. at this point, idiots, all of them.

For the past couple years S.H.I.E.L.D has become sort of a troubling snooping nuisance for you, constantly delving their way into your relatively uneventful lifestyle every couple of months, meddling around to figure out if you’re still currently active for Hydra and if not, are you willing to pay for your crimes or to join them like she did. Definitely not on your to do list any time soon.

Watching as a small black bird zips by, you quickly shut your window and close the dark colored curtains to block yourself from the rest of the chaotic world. Hastily making your usual rounds about the apartment to be absolutely certain all the possible openings are locked. Soon after you head for bed, ready to face the ex-assassin whenever she arrives in the following days ahead.

Seated at your kitchen table, you casually sip at your steaming hot tea while watching security footage from downstairs from when you hacked into their system, the same night you began renting the place. As expected, the notorious red head slips her way into the building and up the four flights of stairs until finally a light knock is heard at your old wooden door.

So she wants to do this cleanly.

Switching off the device, you stuff it in a nearby drawer before calmly walking down the tiny hallway over to the frontdoor and opening it, lock off and all. Her green eyes blink in curious surprise as you show her no indications of aggression; she’s about your height if not maybe slightly smaller, thick scarf and a winters coat about her person as she holds a normal sized black bag in her right hand. No doubt a gun concealed somewhere close, a light precaution in case things go south from here.

Trailing your wary gaze from her travel bag to her pale face, you raise an intrigued brow, “I assume you’re here for me?” You ask with the tinge of a confident Eastern European accent as she slowly nods, eyes calculated and calm as she studies your mellow yet slightly defensive stance.

Pursing plush lips together, she casually shrugs with a light hearted smile, “I only realized you must have sent that hard drive when I arrived in London...”

“Well I’ve gotten rather bored running away from your persistent bastards over in America.” You interrupt before opening up your door even wider, gifting her an open invitation instead of a fight, “Come in. I assume we have much to discuss.”

Following you to the table, she sets her bag on the closest chair as you take another sip from your tea. Cautious eyes trained on her every move as she shifts a bit uncomfortably in her chair, “So, I assume you’re not here to sell me that pretty bag of yours. Not that I’d want it.”

She smirks at your blunt sarcasm, pleased to know you’ve at least got a sense of humor after all you’ve endured, “No. I’m here to learn about who created you and if there are any more. Y/N, I’m well aware of how dangerous you truly are...but given the fact that you’ve had time to adjust, and let me into your home willingly. I came seeking answers. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Folding your hands together, you tilt your head at her thoughtfully, “Well that’s good. I didn’t really want killing the Black Widow on my conscience, though I’d speculate a few would be relieved.” You quip with a playful smirk before your face turns serious again, “I’ll tell you about the fuckers who made me. Then you leave and never bother me again. Understood?” You add in almost a growl.

Handing you a polite smile, she nods in agreement, “Of course. You have my word.” You take another sip of your tea as she reaches into her bag, a beige file suddenly plants itself atop your kitchen table. “This is the only surviving file on you. It’s enough, but there’s too many cracks that need to be filled. I need to know how they conducted the experiments and who else survived them. This is important for the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D and the rest of the world. Y/N, we’re trying to make sure something like this can never happen again. And well, any secrets on Hydra always helps.”

Setting your cup down, you smirk, “This should be filled with liquor if I’m going to be spilling some top secret Hydra business of this velocity.” You muse, setting aside your mug, your face quickly shifts to a more serious expression. “For starters this isn’t a very heartwarming story.”

“Neither is mine.” Begrudgingly admits the ex-assassin.

“Well, at least we have something in common then, Black Widow.” You assert with a pointed look before leaning back against the barred wood of your chair, thinking of where to start first. Your eyes trail over to the window as you begin your story, “This place, where they kept us. The scientists working for Hydra wanted to test out special DNA altering serums on the embryos of willing participants. Well, we weren’t willing....but they targeted the poor, feigning a program that would pay these mothers-to-be thousands if they participated. Plus a comfortable place to stay for awhile.” You reveal before taking another sip of your tea, “You see, I’m not originally from Russia, my home was some nameless village in Eastern Europe that I’ve forgotten the name of by now, it was so long ago. But anyways, I guess fate has a funny way of administering it’s business to the ones seeking safety in times of struggle. So my mother...” You take another sip of your tea to help clear your throat and head a little bit, God you hate talking about this.

Setting it down again, you continue, “Mine accepted. They took her and twenty-two others to this facility deep in the woods. This place was practically a paradise for them...” You chuckle miserably, “soon enough the scientists pumped them full of drugs and began their altering of the embryos DNA, genetic codes, and whatever else they saw fit to mess with. Nine months later we came into this world kicking and screaming.”

“Shit.” Mutters Natasha in astonishment, fully engrossed in your story as she starts to realize maybe her upbringing wasn’t as fucked as yours.

“They monitored us for the first few months, waiting to see if anyone acted strange....nothing, to their utter disappointment. Soon they drew blood samples and as it turned out, we all had altered DNA from the serum. Just as they’d planned.”

Her brows furrow in puzzlement before she asks, “How’d you get your powers then? I don’t think I missed anything.” Insists your guest questionably as you shake your head.

“You didn’t. But you have to understand that as we grew older, all of us basically became tiny super soldiers as fucked as that is, not only did they change our genetic code for meddling with later on when we got older. But this serum was so well developed that it completely fused with the fetuses genetic code, only causing us to grow stronger as we aged from toddlers to three-year-old's and up. Testing even revealed that it slowed down our ageing process just like with Captain America. But it wouldn’t be effective till we reached our mid to late twenties.”

Natasha takes a moment to process your words before she nods in acknowledgment, “Y/N. It’s my understanding that this is a buried secret from the organization for good reason, it’s just....what year did this all take place? It’s not in any of the records I was able to dig up, not even in yours, nothing except for your date of birth.” States Natasha curiously, stopping you before you speak of anything else.

Nodding you lean your arms against the wooden table, leaning in a bit closer now, “1953, after World War ll when people where still recovering from the heavy aftermath while the Cold War was still raging on when well, you know.” Giving her a lopsided shrug, you glance from an old faded picture on the wall then back to her, “Lets just say Russia wasn’t exactly having a stellar time, nor was my mother for that matter.” You Conclude before aimlessly pursuing your lips together, “Which yes, makes me at around 60 years old. Don’t I look pretty.” You add, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Natasha’s eyes concede silent astonishment as she blinks back surprise, “Even after all these years doing what I do, meeting the people that I have. I’m still left speechless every once in awhile. Y/N I can’t even imagine what you’ve seen.” Reveals the red head honestly as her green irises flicker from your file then back up to you, a conflicted expression dancing across her features, “How did they...how did you gain your powers, aside from what the serum gave you in the process?”

An apprehensive sigh escapes freely from your lips while you lean back into the creaky old chair, a troubled look darkening your features as you avoid her intrigued gaze, “They waited until we were twelve before testing us....in the meantime we lived as normal children; learning, playing, and training to survive. You know, the typical stuff.” You add with a small breathy laugh, though no humor finds your eyes, “We had our mothers until a year before they began the experiments. But it wasn’t that terrible of a loss since they trained us to adapt to our environment and never fully depend on anyone but ourselves.....it’s sick. And I’m not even sure what they did to them, I guess I never will.”

She nods as you make a disgusted face, an acidic hatred rising in your chest at the thought of your childhood, “I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how traumatic that must have been.”

“Oh believe me, it gets better.” You joke bitterly, “In pairs of two they tested us, putting us into rooms where two doctors would strap us down and stick a needle into our skin. After that, they waited until something dramatic happened. Oh, and it sure as fuck did.” You conclude with a sneer.

Biting her lip anxiously, Natasha asks anyway, “How many survivors?”

Scoffing, you shake your head in revulsion for what those doctors did to everyone, an angry expression soon crossing your features, “One.” You sourly mutter, “All my other friends died of the new serum they gave us, either right then and there on the table, or in the following days. You see, it was supposed to blend with our altered DNA to create something powerful out of it, something beyond humans normal capabilities. It just ended up horribly mutating everyone except for me.” You whisper, clear sadness and hatred coating your very words.

Your eyes stare sharply at the peeling table top paint, a frown on your lips as you take in a deep breath before continuing, “What they did to me....no one should have to go through something so goddamn agonizing, I was only a child, just a little girl in a terrible place whether I knew it or not....and you know how it affected me?” She slowly shakes her head no as you smile miserably, your brows furrowed in pain, “I was gifted with bone claws that retracted out of my knuckles and one from each of my feet.” You confirm, eyes suddenly darkening in fury, “And you know what those goddamn bastards did to me afterwards? Like I hadn’t suffered enough from the pain of it all, they pumped me full of liquid Adamantium. Turning my claws to solid metal, the fucking strongest material on earth. Right in the body of an eleven year old child!” You shout furiously as she flinches back at your outburst, blinking hard, you let out a heavy breath before leaning back into your chair in defeat.

Calm down, Y/N. It’s just a memory now.

Strong brows dent her clear skin in thought as you await a response, after a few long moments does she soon gather her racing mind, lacing her fingers together she raises a brow at you, “That doesn’t explain how you’ve survived so long. The years working for Hydra, they turned you into a weapon....yet you’ve escaped and haven’t been killed yet. Not even a scratch to be found.....well, at least that I can see.”

Turning to face the puzzled assassin, you give her a lopsided grin, your chill composure coming back to you quickly enough, “I didn’t just get claws from the enhanced serum that fucked with my genetic make-up, it completely heightened my humanly abilities. Suddenly I was stronger, faster, and all my senses felt like they were on overload. Best of it all, I came to realize I had accelerated healing capabilities. Who would have thought that their shitty inhuman experiments would have gone so horrendously, yet with the one miracle of an exception. Me.”

“I had figured that branch of Hydra was meddling on dangerous ground, I hadn’t realized the extent of what they were doing. Did they try making any more like you?” She wonders.

“I was the last. Since I was the only compatible vessel, they didn’t want to waste anymore time or money on others who could possibly fail.” You explain with a shrug, “I became one of their most treasured assets.”

Pursing her lips together, she gives a slight nod before revealing a different file from her bag, you watch as she pauses for a moment before opening it up, you quickly take notice of the many white papers pinned together. Some with encrypted symbols and words while others are in plain English. Your brows furrow as she flips the first page to reveal...

“I know I came asking for answers about classified information, but this won’t be a complete mission if I don’t ask you about your time with Hydra.” Proposes the red head cautiously while she studies your face for any hostile reactions, not getting anything but skepticism, she continues, “I understand you were very important to them. It’s recorded you’ve completed about three dozen kills over an active period of about thirty-seven years.”

You scoff before muttering, “So it would seem. They gave me my first mission in 1971...when I was 17.”

“Right, but that’s not exactly what I’m seeking.” Her eyes immediately trail down to the files, “I assume you must have seen this man at least once...” She flips another page over and pulls out a playing card sized photograph, she turns it around and slides it closer to you. Instantly you recognize who he is, but how did she?..

“I haven’t seen him in years, nor heard of him for that matter.” You mutter, though your tone shifts to a more aggravated one.

Noticing this difference, Natasha continues, “That’s the look of someone who has met him for less then friendly reasons. What happened to the Winter Soldier?” You take a long moment to study his stoic face of icy blue and white, and black; its when he was in the Cryostacis chamber, the place where they would freeze him to keep their Winter Soldier locked away until he was needed for a new mission. All that you can fully witness is his sleeping face, though you know exactly what he looks like up close and with no ice crystals in his dark hair.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you slide the photograph back over to her folder, “I met him when I was 25 in 1979, Hydra needed us for a duel mission somewhere in South Africa, they needed their best. We were tasked with locating and stealing some precious metal which we later learned was Vibranium, because apparently they had used the last of the Adamantium on me.” You reveal with a casual shrug, “It went relatively well as expected...and well, we worked with each other many times after that, until I escaped and he was sent to kill me in 2009.”

“You knew him for almost twenty-nine years. Do you know where he might be now?”

Scoffing, you almost laugh, “Even if I did, you’d never get him. But if I’d have to assume, he’s probably frozen in some cryo tank somewhere in the middle of Russia. Waiting to be let loose again so he can take out a new enemy of the state.”

“Right.” Nods the Black Widow as she closes up her files, her green irises quickly on you again, “Thank you for your time, and for the heavy material you spoke of.”

“It was a long time ago, someone else should remember what those fuckers did to innocent mothers and their children. No one in this entire world knows except for me, you, and the doctors I haven’t killed yet.” You growl with venom lacing your every word.

Soon you watch as she swiftly rises to her feet, as you do the same, “I wish you well then.” Affirms the Black Widow as you follow her lead to the door, she stands on the other side for a moment before asking, “Is there any way I could find you again?”

Leaning against the door frame, you break out into a knowing smirk as she stands waiting expectantly, “If you’re lucky, you’ll never see me again. Goodbye agent Romanoff.” And with that do you gently close the door, leaving her in the hallway with a plethora of useful information, but still nothing significantly useful on the Winter Soldier, now only time will tell if he ever happens to show up on her radar again. Hopefully not, she thinks doubtfully before turning on her heels and sauntering off down the hallway.

——

Almost two whole years had passed since last you’ve spoken to the assassin, in that time you’ve watched her speak on live television when Hydra had finally been exposed to the world and all their secrets let loose for the prying hungry eyes of the public.

Even some of your own information had been leaked, the world knew who you were now, what atrocities you’ve committed for the organization during your time with them and that you’ve been M.I.A since 2009. Now you’re on an international watchlist. Fantastic. Apparently some very important leaders of the world and other prestige family members alike aren’t very fond of yourself for murdering their adversaries or filthy rich husbands.

But it’s not like you had a choice, Hydra would always alter your memories when they shocked you into forgetting who you even were; thus you’d complete a mission and a couple days or so later would your mind stitch itself back together again the best it could from the electrical trauma. Only the killing part would be a dark and fuzzy memory, thus revealing itself to you in bits and pieces at a time. Soon everything blurred together and you just complied or face getting electrocuted multiple times a session, until your eyes remained empty and dangerous.

Considering you’ve been on the run since that information was released, in this time, you’ve tracked down past agents and doctors alike who had wronged you, considering you now had full access to their recent history. Hence increasing your body count as you went from one country to the next, making the world a tad bit lighter with their darkness whipped from existence.

Although soon enough you became unsettled with the loads of information expunged from Hydra, your mind inevitably making a one eighty back to a certain broody super soldier from your complicated past. He must be in the world somewhere, living as a secret civilian or whatnot. He has to be. And you’ve decided to find him before someone else does.

Maybe it was curiosity, or the fact that he was like you and shared a bloody history with Hydra, but your instinctual drive to find the Winter Soldier eventually drew you the beautiful city of Bucharest, Romania. Although he didn’t make finding him effortless in the slightest, after endless days hacking into network databases looking for even a snippet of information. You found a lead.

Turns out airport security footage is very useful, even more so, footage from around the city’s grant center; and from there you were able to track him to Romania. Eventually after a couple of days in the city, you were able to catch a glimpse of him at the local market place and thus followed him to his little shitty apartment without him as so much as noticing.

Once he left again, you slipped inside and began your wait for his eventual return. But will he even want to speak with you? Does he even remember you? Your memories hadn’t been continuously whipped like his were, granted you were forced into cryo more then once and electroshocked into forgetting your memories. It eventfully stopped once they realized your mind would just heal itself into remembering again, so instead they threatened you with a tracking device deep into your skin tissue that would blow up if you tried to run.

Clearly you eventually found a way around this, as terrible of a memory it gave you.

——

Looking out the window, your ears suddenly pick up the sound of boots stealthily walking down the hallway, they’re incredibly light against the tiles outside, perhaps he somehow knows you’ve been following him. A moment later the scent of a man fills your nostrils and you know he’s inside the apartment. You could barely hear the door.

He’s silent as a mouse, nothing indicating he’s even there except for his rapidly thudding heartbeat that pounds anxiously against his strong chest; you slowly turn to face him. His hat from earlier is gone, dark blue eyes stare warily on you while soft breaths emit from his slightly parted lips. He’s not afraid, but he is nervous.

Folding your arms over your chest, you take a glance around the room, “Nice place.” You confirm casually, eyes back on the Winter Soldier in a second as the corner of your lips pull into a humored half grin, “I’m not here to complete some personal Vendetta against you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is more curious then cold, maybe he can be reasoned with after all.

Taking a step forward, you shrug, “Wanted to make sure you aren’t still on their side.”

He keeps silent for a moment as you watch him watch you, “I’m done with them.” Mutters Bucky, disgust dripping off his words. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Progress.

“Good.” You add with the tiniest of smiles before motioning towards his little kitchen table, “Mind if we sit and talk? As, well...I guess civilians now.”

Studying your face for any indication of falseness and hostility, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds none. Bucky takes off both of his gloves and sits, metal hand shinning in the low lighting. A threat or a precaution? Maybe he just wants it off?

You follow his example, and soon the two of you sit not even three feet away from each other. Both yourself and Bucky hold an awkward silence for a long moment as the tension in the room rises, shifting your gaze from the counter behind him, you don’t really notice as he trails his eyes over your face, “I remember you.” Reveals Bucky to your great surprise, your eyes falling onto him in an instant, “They sent us on missions together, until you left and they woke me up to kill you for it.”

Smiling, you let out a humored breath of air, “Turns out you didn’t miss me after all. I gave you a nice scar for your troubles though, you still have it?”

Bucky purses his lips into the tiniest of shadowy grins, although no real joy is shown, “It’s a thin little line across my left rib cage. Just barely reached my bone.” Yeah, and I would have if you didn’t punch me in the eye socket first, you think to yourself from when the Winter Soldier had tracked you down. But that’s a long story.

“Glad it’s healed and they didn’t have you come after me a second time. I don’t think I would have let you live again.”

He thinks hard for a second as he processes your words, “You let me live? The first time?”

“Well,” You serenely admit, “I couldn’t exactly kill you...I guess, well....I don’t really know why I didn’t kill you when I had the chance. Guess I’m not as ruthless as Hydra wanted.” You mumble with a conflicted frown, the two of you keep silent before you break the odd tension, “Doesn’t matter now. I heard about what happened in D.C. just like the rest of the world. Gotta say, I was wondering what everyone over there had been getting themselves into.”

“They leaked everything.” Mumbles Bucky with a knowing flash of insight within his dark restless eyes.

“I know.” You add with a slow nod, “I’ve been traveling more cautiously for the past year and a half now. You’d think they’d let us live in peace, of course not. But I guess it means the world knows what a piece of shit organization Hydra is. So that’s something.”

“Yes.” Agrees Bucky, eyes trailing from your fingerless gloves to your face, of course he remembers what hides beneath, “What happened to you since you left?

Fumbling with your fingers as they lay against his table, you turn you head to the window, the ghost of a smile dancing across your lips, “Surviving. You?”

He shifts his gaze back down to his metal hand as you turn to face him, “About the same I’d say.”

Leaning back against your creaky wooden chair, you hand him a small yet friendly smile, “Well then. What of us now? Two ex-assassins alone in the world. With nothing but our wit and fists to keep us afloat.” You add with a low chuckle, he doesn’t crack.

Losing your smile, the two of you keep silent as ghosts for a long moment before Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “I got some tea.” Replies the admittedly handsome man now since you have a moment to really look; the briefest hint of a grin revealing itself against his lips for only but a flash of a second. But you still see it.

Fumbling with your fingers you give him a pursed lip grin, “I like tea.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #series rewrite #bucky barnes #tfatws

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gins-potter · 3 years

Text

One Chicago Rewatch Extravaganza

02/03/22

Fire 2x03

Fire 2x04

Fire 2x05

Fire 2x06

Fire 2x07

Fire 2x08

thoughts under the cut

Fire - 2x03 Defcon 1

“wait is [your friend] hot?” “she’s straight” *sad face* big mood shay

i love how bad they try to make it seem like jeff is the mole and then nope turns out it’s this random other guy

jeez griffin is such a fucking shithead lmao

i still sound it so bullshit that gabby comes into the meeting about griffin, says basically the stuff that matt was saying but because it comes from her it’s supposedly so much better

wow capp has changed so much over the seasons, he definitely wasn’t the comic relief as much as he is now

not otis mixing up cinnamon and cumin

you know i liked isabella and mills, kinda sad that petered out

tbf jeff doesn’t help make himself look innocent either

severide randomly hooking up with zoya - rip

the saltine cracker challenge i’m fucking dead

oh the drama of dawson finding out about jay

Fire - 2x04 A Nuisance Call

dang that silence after darryl shoots himself where all you can hear is shay’s gasp is just - a very powerful choice

gad dawson is at her worst in this scene

herrmann doing pushups on the table is amazing lmao

not the squad guys casually breaking into hadley’s car

ANTONIO!

I love this theme - I think it eventually becomes the Dawsey theme but it started out as just a general Chicago Fire theme and its really pretty

eugh this bitch

what’s her name?

Fire - 2x05 A Power Move

boden telling mcleod to kiss his ass - fucking go off chief!!!!!!!!!!!!

mills asking if he still have to cook for the mole lt. lmao

it kinda pisses me off that they did with this with shay and then killed her off like less than a season later

also hurl at mills having to fin this victim’s toes

holy crap shay throwing her drink at the chick who cut her off - both worrying and iconic

ooooof i love this story jeff tells

lmao love all the transfer paperwork they give the mole lt.

mills calling isabella gabby - i would tear my own face off sdfghjkl;’

pft severide turning down zoya wanting to marry him and then going off and having a vegas wedding literally the next season

oh god could you imagine benny as chief - fucking disaster

oh my god hermmann vs casey fitness screech

ohhhhhhhh yeah Devon - that’s her name

rip gameday i guess

Fire - 2x06 Joyriding

i like seeing jeff in control, he would have been a good lt.

awwwww poor sweet little nathan as bryna and gina call him

kelly really is hella good with kids though

god devon is so fucked

can’t believe that’s the firs time we got to hear “this is detective jay halstead” be still my beating heart

oh the wall of badges scene always breaks my heart

Fire - 2x07 No Regrets

Katie!!!!!

Also lol at Severide thinking Katie was dating Benny

I miss Katie, can they bring her back?

ok i don’t love ingrid but she’s so cute with all of 51

oh i just realised what ep this was - i fucking love this one

honestly this episode is just perfection - i love it so much

Fire- 2x08 Rhymes with Shout

otis thinking buying fandom merch is the same as buying stocks fucking dead

everyone insisting on calling him choot will never not be funny to me

“can she just die in a car crash already?” - my mum about mcleod

“she’s messing with my man boden” - my mum after i told her that was a fucked thing to say

“alright i don’t like [voight] anymore” - my mum after voight threatens cruz over flaco

okay but part of dawson’s problem is that she’s constantly vindicated by everyone around her, literally no one ever actually says, girl you fucked up, when she did

ah see now it’s becoming the dawsey theme

was there every any confirmation if isabella did invite mills to that part because he’s black or was it left kind of vague?

“she’s in my bookclub” mouch i love you

lmao i totally forgot joe proposed to zoya and she said yes lmaoooooooo

and now dawsey are together...

alright i guess *le shrug*

#one chicago #one chicago rewatch extravaganza

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shadow--writer · 3 years

Text

I Light up Like a Sparkler, Feel it Getting Warmer

title (this is one of my fav bands lol. they released the end of their newest album and it was all I could listen to for a week asdf)

Maeve x Lucas. Let’s try this one again (again). 3.9k

TW: none!

@dela-png

The Raven was boisterous when they entered, both making her gut sink and heart flutter a little.

While she loved how loud it was, with people laughing so hard they bent over themselves.

It meant more…

“Songbird!”

...of Eli. He was a regular patient at her clinic. And a total dumbass. A loving one, sure, but a dumbass.

“Ya gonna play for us tonight, hermosa dama?”

She rubbed her temples, cracking an eye open to look at him. She wasn’t very fluent in the language he spoke, but she’d heard it enough to guess what he was saying.

“I need a few drinks before we go that far,” she replied, keeping her voice flat.

Eli laughed, raising his tankered at her.

Lucas chuckled, kissing her cheek. “Well you’re popular.”

“Mmm. My dream.”

She cracked an eye open to look around. Some of the people sitting by Eli paled they looked over at her.

No...they weren’t looking at her. It was Lucas.

It was strange seeing it, like they had seen a ghost. Or something from the past. It wasn’t normal to pale like this. Sure Lucas was…well Lucas. She wouldn’t lie and say he was a small man.

Lucas shifted nervously, looking down at the ground. At their feet. Her legs. Anywhere but at the Raven falling quieter.

She frowned, turning away from the group.

She’d ask him about it later.

“We’ll just…get a place at the counter and wait for Amani, okay?” she said softly, shifting away to move to the counter.

She hated killing the mood by thinking, but something was just off. Or something was happening and he wasn’t telling her. Or it was both.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, rolling her eyes. He didn’t have to tell her anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Just as she kept things from him.

But why did this feel bigger than whatever secrets she might’ve had?

She winced, thinking back on Nicolas as she sat on a stool. The fact she was thinking his name again was a good sign.

After years of not. Was she healing?

…the nightmare she had pleaded the case of no.

She let out a sigh, tangling her hands in her hair. Barth chuckled as he cleaned a glass, almost reading her mind. “We got a new shipment of gin.”

She peaked through her fingers. “I’m listening.”

Lucas sat next to her, hunching over a little as he pressed his shoulder against hers.

She reached over to pat his knee.

“And the usual for you?” Barth asked, throwing the rag over his shoulder and settling the glass down.

She smiled a little, banishing all thoughts of Nicolas. Ugh she was never going to get over his name. Saying it, thinking it, it was all the same.

“Oh no. Mo stór will have a glass of water.” Oops she said that a little…loudly.

Lucas groaned, burying his face in his hands, the tips of his ears going red.

There was a snort and a wheeze and Lucas looked like he wanted to melt further.

Ah. So it seemed Amani arrived.

She slowly gathered her wits up, mulling over what the fuck to say to her as Barth slid her a gin. And a water.

“Thanks my love,” she said to him with a smile that was more of a grimace. Yeah. She was fucked. Nothing was quite like the wrath of Amani. She just hoped a peace offering would at least help a little.

“Water huh?” Amani asked, walking over and throwing an arm around his shoulders, rubbing her knuckles into his hair. “Surprised you even knew it existed!”

Maeve hid her smile in her glass. Okay. Less fucked. “He lost a wager. No alcohol for a week.”

Amani perked up, plopping herself in Maeve’s lap. She let out a startled choke, giggling.

“Ooh is that gin? Don’t mind if I do.” Amani plucked the glass from her hands, taking a swing. “Mm! That new, Barth?”

He nodded, chuckling to himself.

Oh they were causing a scene.

Maeve smiled, resting one hand on Amani’s hip and the other on her knee.

She liked it.

“Mmm this is really good!” Amani said, lighting up. She offered the glass to Lucas, her smile growing mischievous. “You should try it- oh wait!”

He pouted and Maeve pursed her lips to keep from laughing harder.

“So. What’s this wager that my loving dumbass lost?”

“Amani,” he whined.

“Well,” Maeve said, smiling and letting out a breath. “He took me out on a date.”

“Oh fuck! Really?!”

“Why are you surprised,” Lucas asked, pressing his cheek against the counter, sulking at the water.

“Well didn’t she fuckin dump ya? And your ass was pissed!”

“Mmm. Yeah. And you still owe me a lot of repairs.”

“Psh repairs reshamers.”

“…my broken stools would like to say otherwise.”

“Eh, what's a little property damage between friends!”

She liked that Amani considered them friends in that one sentence. But yeah she didn’t deserve it.

“I um…don’t think I’m worthy of being called a friend,” she murmured, her arms going slack. She fucked up pretty badly. Maybe not for the long term.

But she did hurt him.

Amani looked over her shoulder with a withering glare. “You’d better shut your bitchass mouth before I do.”

“Amani please don’t kiss my partner.”

“Hey wasn’t talkin bout kissin but she does have a nice mouth when she doesn’t run it on bullshit.”

Lucas’ lips quirked up in a tiny smile.

She wilted.

Oh no they were ganging up on her.

“It is a nice mouth.”

“And here I thought we were teasing you,” she replied, her tone miffed. She took her glass back from Amani and looked away from them as she bitterly took a swing.

He chuckled, and she knew he saw the tips of her ears burning red.

“But eh, fuck it. Ya seem to draw this ass outta his shell a little more and make him happy and all that. Just don’t dump him without a good reason and we’re good.”

“But I-”

Amani pressed a finger to her lips with a grin. “Please, inviting me out here was a peace offering. I can see right through ya.”

“…well, yeah.”

“‘Preciate it. But I’m just glad I talked sense into ya. Also Lucas shared a smidgen of the blame. Sure, dumping him was harsh.” Amani’s eyes shone with understanding, she wasn’t going to mention why Maeve did it.

And she appreciated it, relaxing a little.

“But hey. Guy’s gotta go through the stages of pining and hurt at lighting speed somehow.”

“…comforting.”

“Now tell me about this date ya went on.”

“He lost a wager we made. And got me bit by an eel.”

His head shot up. “I did not! You fell in all on your own!”

“Yeah! After you startled me!”

“It was an accident!”

Amani snorted. “Isn’t this the second person you’ve gotten bit?”

“I know right! The eels must flock to him thinking he’ll lay out their next meal!”

Lucas turned away from them, messing with his glass as they giggled.

“So. Wager?”

“We did a bit of sparring.”

“…always a good choice on a first date.”

“He called me shortie, and if he wouldn’t defend my honour I had to.”

“I said it because it’s true,” he mumbled.

“Well compared to you I might be, but I still kicked your ass so don’t you forget it.”

“You won’t let me.”

“Oh right, no alcoholic drinks for a week. What’s my poor darling supposed to do? Drink literally anything else? The horror.”

“So you banned him from drinking?”

“Oh great,” Lucas moaned.

Amani chuckled, throwing her head back and nearly making them topple off of the stool they shared. “Oh you are evil! I like it!”

She took a swing of her gin, finishing it off as Amani ordered her own drink.

“He made his bed now he must lie in it.”

“You sparred for this?”

“Mmhmm.”

Amani squinted, looking at her. She tilted her head, the gold paint around her eyes shimmering a little. Maeve looked over at Lucas for help, and he was, of course, none.

“W-What?”

“You...sparred with him?”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“And won?”

She smiled a little, giggling. “What, like it’s hard?”

Lucas looked over at them and smiled at her. “It was awesome.”

“What’d she do?”

“She kicked my nose.”

“And your ass. Literally.”

He snorted, taking her hand off Amani’s knee and holding it gently. “Flipping me over your shoulder is nothing to sniff at.”

“Holy shit she flipped ya? That is fuckin awesome!” Amani said, looking back at Maeve. “You’ve gotta show me how to do that.”

“Now?”

“...good point.”

“Destroy my bar and that’s even more on your tab,” Barth added, making Amani laugh.

“You know I wouldn’t.” He raised an eyebrow and she wilted a little. “...wouldn’t much.”

Maeve snorted, squeezing Lucas’ hand. “I’ll teach you later,” she told the woman who was still on her lap. Barth slid an amber liquid over to them and another gin.

“Then what did you do?”

“Well everyone has pressure points tucked in our biceps. Press them hard enough and your arms will go numb. Hurts like a bitch but it’s good at taking down someone who is…” she smiled a little, looking at Lucas. “Bigger.”

Amani snorted. “With you two? That’s an understatement.”

Maeve giggled and Lucas blushed a little. “He wounded my pride so I had to stand up for myself.” She tweaked his nose. “And got his ass banned from alcohol. Tired of water?”

His eyes turned pleading. Reminded her of a puppy. “Yeah.”

She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose. “They might have cider. I could order you some.”

His face fell and he made a face at her. “I’m not a kid. I can order my own cider.”

She sipped on her gin, hiding her smile in her glass. “Ah, of course. I hear the cider is very good though.”

“Better than water.”

She gasped in mock offense, holding a hand to her chest. “Slander water and I will throw you over the counter.”

He snorted, fighting back his smile. “Yes because you would risk that.”

She fluttered her lashes. “I can claim I was just simply...drunk and you said a comment that landed poorly. I must defend my honour after all, and I have quite the reputation.” Two gins in? Hardly enough to get her buzzed.

She was quite proud of her alcohol tolerance. She could best even the largest of people in a game. It made betting fun.

“Reputation? For what?”

She winked, letting out a tiny hum. “While I might be a lady I can cause a nuisance if I so pleased.”

“Oh? And how do you do that?” Amani chimed in, tease alight in her tone.

“I’m not known as ‘Songbird’ for nothing, my sweet lady.”

Lucas snorted. “Lady.” Amani glared at him and stuck out her tongue. Maeve giggled, pressing her lips together to stifle the sound.

“She does put on a good show if it pleases her,” Barth said with a smile. “She’s almost as bad as Julian.”

Maeve blew a raspberry. “Oh please I only sing.”

“Either way it draws people in,” he said with a shrug. “Plus you look like you have fun.”

Her cheeks reddened. She did have fun when she sang on top of the tables. It was energetic and she liked being the life of the party for once.

But she hadn’t done anything...like that in front of Lucas. He might not like her doing it, or he’d see her much differently after the fact. She might’ve been vulgar and open (most of the time) but this was almost embarrassing.

Nicolas didn’t like it because she made a fool of him when she did it.

She bit her lip. Damn why did she keep thinking of him? He wasn’t here anymore. If she could go back to ignoring all that happened she could get on with her life.

She nervously looked over at Lucas. He looked interested.

“Do you play any instruments?” Amani asked.

“I um...no.” She wouldn’t meet Amani’s eyes. “I...don’t have any to play if I wanted to.” She did have a fiddle of her own. Well, she used to have a fiddle. It had been a gift from her Seanathair, but she…

Her face fell.

She left it with Nicolas.

“And no one would want to hear me play! Besides, I don’t have a fiddle to play!”

“You can borrow mine, hermosa dama!” Eli offered from where he sat, waving his bow around.

Amani cocked an eyebrow with a smirk.

She wilted.

Fuck.

“It’s just one little song, wouldn’t it be fun?” Amani said sweetly, batting her eyes. “Playing music again after so long!”

“...you’re good at this.”

“I’m an expert guilt tripper, that's true.”

“But I don’t think…” she looked at Lucas again and bit her lower lip. He wasn’t Nicolas but he might not like it either. She didn’t know, and after her major fuck up? One she still agreed with but regretted? Yeah. She didn’t want to risk it. Him liking her was already a miracle in itself. She was a disaster in heels. “No one wants to see me play. I sing, I dance, and I arm wrestle over confident people.”

“That I’d like to see. But.” Amani hopped out of her lap, dragging her to her feet. “I wanna see Miss-Prissy-Lady-Pants get rowdy.”

Nerves fluttered in her gut as Amani tugged her over to Eli. Lucas had sat up, intrigued.

Amani caught her gaze and laughed softly, handing her the borrowed fiddle. “He loves this stuff, don’t worry. He may have the musical talent of a rock, but he likes music. Besides, he likes you.”

She held the fiddle gently, staring at the polished wood. “But I’m out of practice!”

“Let’s see what you remember!”

She sighed, holding it up to her neck and testing a note with the bow. It was tuned and the note came out clean.

She really wasn’t getting out of this.

“Besides,” Amani whispered. “Who doesn’t like to get rowdy once in a while?” She shoved Maeve forward, making her stumble over herself. Her heels clicked on the floor and the Raven quieted.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

She shot a glare at Amani, who had settled back onto the stool with her rum in hand.

Lucas mouthed ‘you got this’ with a dorky smile and she sighed again.

Ugh peer pressure.

She stood on a chair and stepped onto the table Eli sat at. He was grinning wildly. Breathing in once, she closed her eyes. She knew this tune. It had been burned into her memory from playing it so many times.

It was different each time.

Allowing herself to smile, she tapped her foot and played the first note.

The jig was quick, picking up from the first little note as she skipped around the table. Around the glasses and people laughing at her antics. Normally she would sing, picking up her skirts and allowing her voice to raise to the roof and lifting her higher.

Now she was playing a familiar tune on an unfamiliar instrument.

Her heels clicked as she spun, giggling a little to herself as she opened her eyes.

People clapped, keeping the beat and keeping her on track. As she turned, she met Lucas’ eyes.

He was grinning at her, clapping and cheering a little. His cheeks were rosy and he looked so...perfectly happy.

She winked at him, bending down as the tune’s pace quickened. She flubbed a few notes, ignoring them. No one seemed to notice.

No one knew the jig like she did.

She grinned up at the ceiling, feeling lighter than air as she played the last note. It rang through the Raven for a heartbeat before Eli started wildly (and frankly, drunkenly) laughing.

She laughed with him, bending over herself and shaking as she laughed. She was shaking and nervous. Sweaty but laughing so hard she was snorting.

Lucas got to his feet, moving closer to her while holding out his hand, getting to her feet and tucking the fiddle under her arm, she kissed him softly. He was grinning like a loon as he helped her hop down from the table. She landed with a click, handing the fiddle back to Eli.

Walking back to Amani, her legs shook. She collapsed on Lucas’ stool, him muttering about how he had to move down one.

She buried her face in her arms, trying to stifle her nervous laughter. Lucas set a hand on her lower back, gently patting her back.

“See! That wasn’t so bad!”

“I h-h-hate you,” she stuttered through her giggles. “N-N-Never gonna d-do that a-again.”

She could see Lucas’ brows creasing in worry. She never really stuttered. Last time she stuttered it was after…

She stopped giggling. That dream.

She looked at Amani. “Happy now?”

Amani only smiled back. “Well, kind of. Now that I know you can play~”

“Yeah. Play with what?”

Her smile grew wicked. “I know a couple places to get something for you.”

“Let me guess...you’re going to steal it? Oh! Borrow without returning?”

Amani gasped, holding the back of her hand to her forehead. “You wound me! I would never steal anything! Stealing is a crime and I am a simple law abiding citizen!”

Lucas snorted, shoulders shaking as he laughed. “Name one law.”

“...don’t kill people?”

Maeve snorted. “You set the bar a bit low there, darling.”

“...that I did.”

“Ooh I see we’re at pet names now,” Amani teased.

“We’ve always been at pet names,” she replied.

“The question is if they’re nice or not,” Lucas said, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. The stool rocked and she let out a tiny squeak. He ruffled her hair, kissing the top of her head.

“T-They’re always nice!” she said, trying to push his face away. He only nuzzled her fingers, making her chide him softly. “You’ve just never gotten your head outta your ass long enough to understand that. They could be sickening sweet for all you know.” And they were. It’s why she liked them.

“Ugh you two are sickening sweet,” Amani groaned, making a face.

“You know Firefly, I think Amani is jealous,” Lucas said, Maeve squishing his cheeks to make his lips pucker a little.

She giggled. “Oh? A nickname for me? You really think of me as a bug?”

He glared at her, it was hard to take him seriously when he looked like a fish. She kissed him lightly, still smiling. “It’s because you glow,” he whined. “And even if you were a bug you’d be a cute bug.”

She snorted. “Wow you really know how to woo a girl.”

“Well you’re lucky he’s going with ‘firefly’ instead of ‘hairy spider’,” Amani said, making Lucas snort.

She giggled, smoothing out the creases around his eyes.

“Would you rather I call you my lightning bug?”

“Annnd you’re back to being disgustingly sweet.”

They ignored Amani’s whining with soft laughter.

“Well, it’s not so bad,” she finally admitted. “It’ll grow on me.”

“At least you know what it means.”

She giggled, smiling a little smugly. “If you learn my language you’d understand it!” she sang

“Or you could just tell me,” he sang back.

Err well, tried to.

She burst out laughing, letting go of his face and wrapping her arms around his neck as she laughed. “You’re terrible.”

He kissed her cheek. “I could say the same about you, Songbird.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“You were lovely when you played. Why don’t you do it more often?”

“I can’t afford to. I’d play all the instruments I grew up with if I could…afford to have them.” Nicolas probably destroyed her fiddle anyways.

She missed playing.

“I did offer to steal some!”

She turned to look at Amani. “Ah! So you admit to it!”

Amani stuck her tongue out and they giggled.

Her lips twisted and she smiled. “Let me think about it.”

Amani winked. “Take all the time you need, it’ll be fun!”

Lucas sighed, resting his chin on Maeve’s shoulder. “Just don’t get caught.”

“Me? Get caught? That hurts even more than you thinking I was a criminal!”

Maeve stage whispered to her. “If it makes you feel any better I’m a wanted criminal.”

Amani gasped. “Miss Prissy Pants? No way!”

She giggled, pressing her hands to her mouth as she nodded. Maybe Malory having the guards chase her every time she went to the market was good for one or two things.

“Ya gotta tell me this story.”

“Well part of it has something to do with Lucas thinking I hated him with a nickname for a specific story.”

His eyes lit up. “You were a spitfire!”

“And I’ll be one again if you push me,” she said with a smile, but her tone was dead serious. “You haven’t pissed me off just yet.”

“Yet?!”

She kissed his temple, smiling and launching into her story.

The Raven slowly quieted as the candles burned low, Amani yawning through her tale about stealing from some demon. Again.

While it was entertaining, Amani was dead on her feet. And quite frankly, maybe even a little drunk.

“You should get her home,” she said softly, leaning against Lucas’ shoulder.

“She lives in the Flooded District.”

“Mmm that is a bit far. Can you take her to your home?”

“Yeah. She’s going to have quite the headache when she wakes up.”

Maeve chuckled. “Nothing a good cup of coffee won’t fix. Want me to help carry her?”

“You also have to get home. You live a ways away from me. In the opposite direction.”

She hummed. That was true. “We’ll just walk until we need to split up then?”

“Yeah. I can’t visit you tomorrow since I have to pick up another shift.”

She smiled, getting to her feet. “I don’t mind a day without you. Make it up to me later?”

He chuckled, kissing her forehead and getting to his feet. “Or I could visit you,” she said with a smile. “Won’t make lunch but I might bring a present.”

He smiled, gently waking Amani and lifting her up on his back. She grumbled incoherently and fell back asleep.

“You don’t have to.”

“Ah! But I must.”

He sighed but his smile didn’t falter. It fell into a comfortable silence as they walked down the street. It was dark and kind of gloomy, but she had a happy buzz making her body warm.

They soon came to where they needed to part ways. She jumped a little to kiss his cheek.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, tapping his nose once before moving to walk away.

“Thumbelina, wait.”

She turned and was quickly swept into a kiss. He couldn’t do much with Amani on his back, and she let out a tiny ‘mmph!’. It was a different kind of kiss. Sweetness replaced with desperation. It was needy and all encompassing, leaving her skin burning hot.

He wouldn’t meet her eyes when he pulled away, cheeks red with embarrassment.

She stood shocked for a moment, touching her lower lip. She started to giggle, biting her lower lip. His eyes quickly snapped up to meet hers as she laughed.

“S-Sorry it’s just.” She pursed her lips with a smile, standing on her tiptoes and tangling her hands in his hair. “I um. Didn’t expect that.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “You kiss goodbye like it’s going to be your last.”

His ears were red as she rubbed her nose against his, still giggling. “Goodnight Giant. Get home safe.”

“Y-You too.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #maeve #lucas #my writing #maevas #maeve x lucas #amani #asdfgrrhgtfd the self doubt is sinking in #quickly before I chicken out

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fanficflaneuse · 4 years

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One Day - Part 5

A/N: Hello magical tumblr friends! I hope you’re all doing alright. So...we’ve reached the middle of this series! I can’t believe I work four chapters in a week. Goodness! I feel on fire right now. I hope you like it. What’s about to come is just plain, simple, absolute drama.

For this chapter, I drew a bit of inspiration of a series called The Arrangement by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics. It’s not plagiarism or anything, but I did have it in mind as I wrote. All of this to say you should check it out if you haven’t, it’s an amazing series and I’m waiting for an update lol.

Finally, thanks for all your love and support

Here we go:

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 2607 (oops...I did it again! (lol) I’m sorry it’s so long. I think this will be the longest chapter of the series). Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist

3 May, 2002

“(Y/N), you cannot lock yourself in your library forever.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Hermione,” she said, her voice hoarse.

The brown-haired Gryffindor rolled her eyes, trying to be playful, but there was a hint of concern she couldn’t hide. (Y/N) had been working nonstop. Headmistress McGonagall had offered her a position at Hogwarts. Without a second thought, she quitted at the Ministry and now spent a lot of time in her library, revising every book on DADA and making her best to create a study plan that was challenging and fun. She was also writing again. (Y/N) felt her life was heading in an interesting direction.

“Listen, (Y/N/N), I love you. We all do,” Ginny said as she dragged (Y/N) to her room, Hermione trailing behind them, “And we support every single one of your choices. But you cannot keep waiting for Malfoy to appear at your doorway and magically revive what you had.”

“Besides, he’s bad news, (Y/N). You’ve seen what they write about him in the papers. Not someone a respectable Hogwarts professor, like yourself, should be associated with,” Hermione pointed out, using what they now called her ‘ministry voice’.

“He is a good –“

“We know, we know, love. We know he can be a good person. He is – or was? – our friend as well. Not as close as he was to you,” Ginny raised an eyebrow playfully at this, warranting an annoyed eyeroll from (Y/N), “But we did help save him from Azkaban, didn’t we? So yes, we know he can actually be a good person. You just can’t go around saving him forever, dear. Don’t you realize most of his friends have stopped talking to him because of his behaviour? Merlin! Even Parkinson and Zabini are friendlier to us now than he is.”

“He’s chosen a path, (Y/N/N). He’s not trying to change. And even if he was, he’s not here. It’s time for you to move on,” Hermione reasoned.

(Y/N) sighed. She missed Draco way too much. Sometimes she wondered if he missed her. He hadn’t contacted her in a while. No owls, no visits, no cuddles. It had started out small, a bit of extra drinking during the week, an increasing amount of partying. Then every time she saw him, Draco was nursing a drink. Then the visits started to spread out. He’d always have a party to attend, an invitation somewhere and some sort of alcohol running in his veins. His letters stopped coming shortly after. As she got busier, (Y/N) ceased reaching out for him, tired of his excuses and self-destructive behaviours. She started mourning their friendship and her love for him.

At that point, the infamous articles were already a thing. Draco’s drunken antics had warranted him the moniker of “enfant terrible” and his misadventures were fuel for Rita Skeeter’s sensationalist quill. He always made the front page for the worst of reasons. Everyone had tried to talk some sense into him, to no avail.

“I can’t move on from something that never happened,” she declared in defeat.

“Well, more reasons for you to put this gorgeous dress on and enjoy your date with Ernie,” Ginny pressed on as she threw a blue dress over her shoulder.

“We’ll be waiting for your every detail,” Hermione added as she started working on your hair.

Ernie McMillan asked (Y/N) out at least five times before she accepted. In the end, she did because of her friends’ insistence. Everyone agreed she needed to go out. (Y/N) hadn’t been on a date for such a long time, even she admitted to herself the idea sounded tempting. She wasn’t particularly attracted to Ernie (she wasn’t particularly attracted to anyone whose name wasn’t Draco Malfoy), but she found him very sweet and patient. As the day approached, (Y/N) was getting excited about it.

Then, just the day before her date, she was invited for tea at Malfoy Manor. The affair had been so nerve-wrecking that (Y/N) came back home and cried her eyes out. She spent all night in her library, curled up in a ball. That’s where Ginny and Hermione found her. She had puffy eyes and seemed tired. They didn’t need to think too hard to guess what was the reason for her sorrow. It had been the same for a couple of months now. That’s what made them push harder for her to go out.

As Ginny helped her with her makeup, (Y/N) could only think about her visit to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. The only time she had been in their lavish mansion, she had been tortured and put in a cellar with her friends. As she stood in front of the gates, she felt her hands clammy and her whole body shaking. Every fibre of her being was begging her to turn around and run. She felt the tentacles of her fear and trauma engulfing her again, trying to drag her down, reduce her to tears and panic.

“Are you alright?” said a voice she’d recognize anywhere: Lucius Malfoy himself had come to greet her. She saw a lot of Draco in his father. The striking grey eyes were almost too painful to look at. Lucius’ eyes didn’t hold for her the same affection Draco’s did, but she could recognize a mixture of respect and also a bit of fear. Was he afraid of her? Or was that concern? Did she look that frightened?

“Yes, sir. I was just…”

“Remembering?” he offered, an apologetic expression settling on his aristocratic features.

(Y/N) nodded in response. She tried to smile at him.

“I am glad you could come, Miss (Y/L/N). My wife and I have not had the pleasure of your company since the trials. We never got the chance to thank you for everything you did for us,” he said, motioning her to walk with him.

They strolled through some beautiful gardens. The flowers were blooming and the peacocks showed their beautiful feathers. As they entered the house, (Y/N) felt shivers down her spine. She had to stop for a second and take a deep breath. Lucius waited for her patiently. The walked up the stairs and move through different halls.

“We well be having tea at our living quarters. Narcissa is recovering from that hippogriff virus. Fortunately, it is under control, but my wife is still very delicate and needs her rest,” he explained as he opened the door to the room.

Narcissa Malfoy greeted them. She was seating up on the bed, her back pressed to a mountain of fluffy pillows. She wore an embroidered nightgown and her silky bedspread covered her up to her waist. She was a vision; even in the comfort of her bed, Narcissa looked like a queen. Her whole demeanour, even her seemingly informal attire, made (Y/N) feel underdressed.

As soon as (Y/N) was close to the bed, Narcissa grabbed both of her hands affectionately. It took (Y/N) less than five minutes in front of that majestic woman to decide that even if Draco was physically a copy of Lucius, everything else was absolutely Narcissa: his mannerisms, his smile, his way with words.

“I am so happy to see you, (Y/N),” she said, offering her a smile so wide that reminded her of Draco.

As Lucius brought her a chair and left to fetch the tea, (Y/N) felt really out of place. It was not only the looming idea that she was intruding, but also the way in which such domesticity seemed so strange to her. Draco had told her about his life growing up, how he had a seemingly happy childhood, even if his parents were – to an extent – emotionally distant. The Manor was huge for him alone, but his parents dotted on him and cared for him. (Y/N) imagined that this scene, three people sitting close by in the middle of a huge room, was a constant in Draco’s childhood.

As minutes went by and both women engaged in small talk, (Y/N) let go the idea that Draco would barge through the door at any moment. She then concentrated in her current situation, trying to figure out why would they, of all people, invite her over for tea. Narcissa noticed this and pursed her lips.

“I am going to be direct with you, (Y/N). I know it must be very strange, our invitation, I mean. I do wish we had done it sooner, for I have a lot to thank you. The matter at hand, though, is not a joyous one,” she explained, carefully, “we are very worried for our son”.

(Y/N) gulped. She was about to respond when Lucius came back, balancing three cups and a teapot. As he made his way to them. He served the three cups with effortless elegance.

“I hope you like jasmine tea, Miss (Y/L/N) ,” he said as he offered her a cup.

“Yes, it is excellent,” she answered, trying to adopt a posher inflection in her voice.

Lucius and Narcissa shared a meaningful look. “I was just telling (Y/N) how we are worried about Draco,” she explained, almost as a though it was a nuisance.

“Worried?” Lucius scoffed dramatically, “I am not worried. If anything, I am mad and disappointed. He is tarnishing the family name with his stupidity.”

“He is worried,” Narcissa decided. Lucius sighed and nodded in response.

They talked for a while about how he had gotten into drinking. It had started with a glass of firewhiskey every other day, then he was drinking every night, going to bars and partying until very odd hours. The conversation flowed between Narcissa and (Y/N), with Lucius adding his somewhat scathing remarks. They talked about the articles in the Daily Prophet and the stupid moniker.

“I have not talked to him in a long time, Mrs. And Mr. Malfoy,” she said at some point. Her vision got a bit blurry with tears, but she was determined not to cry in front of them. She tried to blink them away to no avail. She looked away. Lucius took her cup from her trembling hands and Narcissa enveloped her in a hug. (Y/N) started crying on her shoulder.

“I wish there was something I could do. I tried. I really tried,” she sobbed.

(Y/N) felt really stupid for how she was behaving. But both Narcissa and Lucius were surprisingly nice about it.

“Dear, we did not invite you here to ask you to do something. We know if anyone has tried to help our son, it has been you. I was really sick, you know? As a matter of fact, I almost died. If you ever get that hippogriff virus, please do take it seriously. When I was delirious, only two things truly worried me, (Y/N): one was leaving Lucius behind and the other one was Draco. My son’s life is an utter chaos as it is. And I know my husband and I have a very big responsibility and a lot of blame for his bad decisions, but I also know the kind of person I gave birth to. And he is a good person. I know you saw something in him. Something good. And as I started getting a little better, my heart was suddenly set on one thing. I needed to know you. I needed to know that someone out there genuinely cares for my son and sees him for who he is, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) felt her heart heavy with longing. She took Narcissa’s hands. “I love your son,” she said and immediately felt her face getting hot, “a –as a friend, I mean. It’s no secret we haven’t talked much in the last year…but I still care for him. I think I will always care for him.”

Narcissa squeezed her hands and smiled at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

As Lucius was escorting (Y/N) out of the manor, they bumped into Draco himself. He could barely stand on his own. He reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glossy and an easy smile was set on his face. Lucius frowned. The sight, however, broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Hellooooo, father,” he slurred.

“Draco, where were you?” Lucius countered, trying to be as patient as possible.

“Around,” Draco said.

“You have been around for three days now. Your mother was very worried.”

(Y/N) winced. Draco took notice of her. At first, he didn’t recognize her (or maybe he didn’t want to recognize her), once he was sure it was her, he tried to stand up a little straighter. He gave her what he thought was a charming smile, but his mind was so hazy it was actually pitiful.

“Hello, Dray,” (Y/N) whispered, trying to keep her emotions in check. As she said this, though, Draco lunged forward clumsily and gave her a hug that felt almost like he was slumping onto her. (Y/N) held him in place, almost collapsing under his weight.

“I’ve missed you so so so so so so so so so much, (Y/N/N). I promise I’ll write more. I miss you,” he said, covering her face with kisses. His breath also stank of alcohol. Although his words were a consolation, his deplorable state made her very sad.

“Behave, boy. I thought I had raised you better,” said Lucius in annoyance.

He grabbed Draco by his shirt and pushed him away from (Y/N). Uncoordinated as he was, he fell on his bum. He searched for (Y/N)’s face, teary eyed. As they made eye contact, (Y/N) was reminded of a very small child. She wanted to cradle him in her arms again and reassure him that everything was going to be alright. (Y/N) knew that wasn’t the best idea. Her thoughts were echoed by Lucius, who, as kindly as possible, asked her to leave.

(Y/N) kneeled in front of Draco, who looked at her with a bit of sorrow and a great deal of confusion. She kissed his cheek and he smiled.

“Take care, Draco,” she said very softly.

Just thinking about that now, as Ginny blended her eyeshadow, gave her enough reasons to want to apparate in Malfoy Manor. She knew her friends were right; she couldn’t save Draco forever. She couldn’t change him either.

As Hermione and Ginny pushed her in front of her mirror, (Y/N)’s heart was shattered. She looked beautiful. The dress fit perfectly. Her makeup was incredible and her hair was twisted in a delicate braid. Somehow, even like that, she felt like hiding herself under her bedspread. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her doorbell.

Ernie had arrived.

…

“I can’t believe I’m going out with a published author,” Ernie said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, it’s just a couple of short stories in The Hogsmeade Review. It’s not a big deal,” she answered before taking a sip of her wine.

“The Hogsmeade Review is a big deal, (Y/N/N),” he countered, “it’s where most big shot writers started. I believe Newt Scammander published his first essays there as well. Can you imagine your novels becoming standard Hogwarts readings?”

Ernie had a very articulated opinion on everything. At times during the date, (Y/N) would let him talk and talk and talk, until he seemed to exhaust his information on whatever they were now discussing. Did it bore her? To infinity and beyond. She couldn’t deny, though, that his enthusiasm was a bit infectious as well and she needed something like that at the moment. And, surprisingly, she wasn’t having a bad time.

So, when he asked her out for a second date, she bit the inside of her cheek and accepted.

tags: @naomi02hook @okaydraco @fandomscombine @iliketoast23

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anonymous-jpeg · 4 years

Text

*beep boop* *robotic voice* here you go

Pebbles skittered as I clung to the side of the building. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind this evening,” I said, as I made my way around the large edifice.

“Hey,” I asked Robin, “how many synonyms for ‘building’ can you think of?”

He blinked at me. “Why are you asking me this right now?”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

He let out a long, exasperated sigh. “We are literally in the middle of a job, and you’re asking me about building synonyms?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then. Let me see...um…construction, edifice, hut, architecture, domicile, home, erection, framework, I guess.”

“Hmmm, most of those wouldn’t work for this exact building. I mean, nobody would really call a tavern a home, do you?”

He looked at me, and replied, “First of all, I know you are a good thief, but most don’t make chat during the job. That’s typically reserved for afterwards.”

“What can I say, I’m a special person.”

He sighed, and said, “You got that right. And most taverns don’t have 4 stories. Remind me, why is this one so tall?”

I shrugged, and told him, “I’m not sure, a lot of customers, I guess. It isn’t known as the best tavern for 500 kilometers for nothing. Most only get about 10 guests a night, this one gets almost 75.”

“We should really focus on the task we have on hand, don’t you think?”

I sighed, and said, “Fine. But how much farther do we have to go, anyway?” He reminded me that we had three more rooms to go by before we got to the correct one, and we continued on our way, slowly making progress, just two friends vibing on the wall of a dark tavern. As we were edging our way to our destination, I quietly said, “we need music. Where’s our bard?”

Robin quite exasperatedly replied, “Dude, we are literally thieves trying to be sneaky and quiet so that we aren’t caught. We definitely don’t need a bard right now.”

“But what if we get caught and we need to seduce the halfling?”

“We aren’t going to get caught. The only way we would get caught would be if we had a bard that would make so much noise that everyone in the tri-state area would awaken.”

“That’s fair enough. Well then, I shall hum under my breath.”

“Do not hum under your breath.”

“Fine.”

Each of the rooms had a small balcony, which made moving across them easier. The beginning was the hardest, because we didn’t start with a balcony, but once we got to the first, we could move across it and then jump to the next. We didn’t always make it all the way, but we were careful enough to jump close enough to the wall so that we could land on the small strip of extruded wall and not fall to our likely deaths. I tried multiple times to make small talk, but Robin was not in the mood. He apparently was ‘focused on the mission’ and ‘didn’t have time for my nuisances’. As we got closer, I got quieter, until we were on the correct balcony.

“Now remember,” Robin said seriously, staring me in the eyes, “This particular barbarian is very dangerous. You already know this, but I think I should refresh your memory, just in case you decide to do things because ‘you only live once’. He is one of those very special barbarians that we’ve been tracking, one that covers himself in those runes. They will amplify his strength, and go even crazier than normal.

“Under no circumstances are you to wake him up, do you understand me? He will rip us to shreds, and I’m too pretty to die. To be honest, I don’t think we should be doing this anyway. A little talisman isn’t worth this kind of risk.”

“It is when that ‘little talisman’ could turn him into a hulking rage monster, should he handle it improperly,” I rebuked.

“Oh, so we’re Good Samaritans now, making sure he doesn’t destroy stuff? Maybe we should go down and kill us some dark elves while we’re at it, or go after bandits for the lols.”

“Come on man, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to die because of him, and plus, that talisman can fetch a hefty price. We’re gonna need money if we’re going to succeed in nabbing that staff, didn’t we agree?”

“Yeah, speaking of which, didn’t I only agree to that one theft? The only reason I’m here is because, and I quote, ‘I’d make a mess of things if I went in by myself, and we really need the money it’ll fetch if we’re going to take that staff.’ You haven’t even told me why the staff is special. You’ve been really evasive about it.”

“I promise, it’s for a good reason. Now, let’s focus on what we’re doing here. We need to be careful, and we’re burning moonlight,” I told him. We carefully brushed aside the curtains so we could peer into the room, and saw that the barbarian was lying on his bed, half-naked, his runes glowing softly in the darkness. We started using a system of hand signals to communicate, similar to, but simpler than, the hand code of the drow. We walked softly into the room, my enchanted boots making not a sound, Robin’s normal ones making barely more. We crept through the room, being careful about potential dangers, but not too worried, as barbarians almost never set up defenses because of their overconfidence. I walked toward the closet, which was covered with a curtain, which I pulled back. There was nothing to note, other than a wicked club which was studded with sharp-looking metals. I left everything where it was, except for an orange I found in a bag. Robin clicked softly to get my attention, and then gestured toward the barbarians chest. The talisman lay there, shrouded by chest fur, and quite obviously unobtainable. To try would be to wake up the beast of a man, which was like inviting Death itself into your home.

“I’m going to snatch it and run,” I signalled, to which Robin replied, “NO. No you are not.”

“Get out of here,” I said while creeping toward him, “I know I can make it out, but only if you aren’t here. Go, and I’ll follow.”

He rolled his eyes, but went out onto the balcony and started climbing down. I plotted what I would do, which ended up being pretty simple. I’d yank it off his thick neck, then run and try to jump to the next building. I went to the balcony, and noted the distance to the shop next door, as well as the fact that Robin had made it down safely. I walked back to the sleeping form, and readied myself. Just reach down and take it. By the time he would awake and come after you, you’ll be on the next roof, making your grand escape, and he’ll never know it was you. Go on. Do it. I carefully reached through the hair, and wrapped my fist around the magical thing. I pulled it off his meaty neck and tried to run, but his fist was around my neck before I had taken a step.

He growled at me, very angrily, as the runes started to glow brighter. He marched over to the balcony, and threw me as hard as he could, which was a bit of an inconvenience, but also helpful, because it meant I was no longer near him and his strong grasp.

I hit the ground painfully, groaning. Why did being thrown have to hurt so much? I heard someone running toward me, but couldn’t muster the strength to look at them.

“This is bad, this is bad, this is bad, why did I agree to this, this stupid idiot probably got himself killed, and now I have no one to talk to,” I heard a familiar voice say. Robin knelt down next to me, and, with concern in his eyes, asked me, “hey, are you okay? You’re bleeding quite a lot.” I laughed, and replied, “Yeah, but you should see the other truck. He’s really quite strong, and I don’t think I used that idiom, or whatever, correctly. Anyway, I should probably see a doctor or something, because everything hurts. Also, what’s your last name? I feel like we should tell each other this, because we’re so close. Mine’s Naïlo.”

He looked at me, and said, “Yeah, this is bad. You only ramble this badly when you are trying to take my attention away from something else. In this case, I think you’re trying to keep me from noticing that your foot is backwards.”

I raised my head, and looked down at my body. “My foot is backwards? Huh. That’s why it hurts this much. I thought it was just my entire body. Yeah, we should get to a doctor.”

He grabbed under my arms, and tried to lift me. “OW! Ow, ow, ow. Yeah, that isn’t gonna work,” I said. “Maybe grab a stretcher, or bring a healing mage here?”

“Fine.” He left to do that, and I just laid there, looking up at the stars and wondering why I did things like this. Probably because I’m an idiot. It was actually kinda nice here, kinda calm, relaxing, other than the pool of blood that was getting larger around me and the utter pain my body was going through. Eventually, I fell unconscious.

When I came to, Robin was kneeling over me, as well as a second person that I could only assume was a mage, considering that my body no longer hurt as much.

“Hey,” I said, “is it as bad as it felt?”

“Luckily, no,” he responded, staring at my abdomen instead of my face. The mage stood up, and held out his (to be honest, I have no idea their gender, I never found out, so I’m using male pronouns) hand, demanding payment. Robin handed over a couple gold coins, and the mage left. He helped me stand up, and though I wobbled for a few seconds, I quickly recovered.

“Well, that went well,” I told him, showing him the talisman I had stored in a secret pocket of my clothes. He laughed, and we started to walk back to the guild. “Hey, so what does it do, anyway?” he asked, as he stretched his body toward the sky.

“I have no clue, but I’m sure our client is a good person. She had a good demeanor, don’t you think?”

Robin sighed, and responded, “The only reason she gave us this job was because she had heard your reputation. She literally threatened to cave your skull in.”

I spread my hands, my hair turning pink. “She only said that because I pointed out she had a bird in her hair. What was I supposed to do, not stare at it?”

“She was a druid, obviously. Yes, they don’t typically threaten people, but it is possible she likes animals and hates the more sentient life.”

“Eh, whatever. It’s probably like a spirit gem or whatever druids like. Likely unimportant to us.”

We returned to the guild, slept through the rest of the night, and the next morning set out to find the druid. We found her at a tavern, one a few blocks away from the one we had visited that night. She was at a corner table, staring into her mead and probably thinking some nature-esque thoughts, I don’t know what druids think. When we got close, she quickly looked up at us, looking scared.

“Do you have it?” she asked hurriedly, grabbing at my arm.

“Chill, yes, I have it,” I replied, and took out the talisman. I hadn’t really taken a close look at it before, as I had been busy getting tossed around and/or knocked out. It had the imprint of a unicorn on it, and it seemed to be made of some kind of silver or other such material. She swiped it from my grasp, and just as I was moving toward her, indignant, she pushed a bag toward me. I opened it, saw that it had the correct amount of payment, and looked back up. She had disappeared, which wasn’t surprising, considering how paranoid she had acted, and so Robin took the bag and we left.

When we got back to the guild, we sorted out the reward. It was sizable, perhaps a little more than the amount of work we went to, or at least the amount of work Robin had gone to.

“So, what happens now?” he asked me.

“Well, right now? I am going to go get a new blade,” I responded, “and then another job.”

“Why do you need a new blade? The one you have works fine,” he asked me. I tossed my current sword at him, and replied, “Yes, but I’ve had that one a while now and I’ve been looking at a magical one for a while now. Well, I’m off.”

As I left the guild, I passed Sylvan, a male elf who has constantly tried to one-up me, even though I couldn’t care less about him. I ignored him, even when he tossed his half-eaten sandwich at me. He’s a real jerk, and is probably just intimidated by me. At least, that’s what I’ll keep telling myself until I finally decide to do something.

I found myself at Durtor’s blacksmith shop, which looked the same as pretty much any other blacksmith’s, except with a bit more magic, as Durtor’s specialty was enchanting. He greeted me, and I replied in kind. He asked me, “What do you want, Alushtas? That blade I gave you was supposed to last at least a decade, and it’s barely been two years.”

“That is true, and it was a good blade, but I desire something else. It is fairly special, and will most certainly be expensive, but I’m sure I can pay.”

“Ah? So what’ll it be?”

“I’m not sure exactly what it is called, but I want a sword that can shift dimensions according to my will, such that it will disappear and reappear when I want, if that makes sense.”

“Hmm… I think I know what you are talking about, and you are correct in that it will be expensive. I can make such a blade in about a week, or, if you would rather enchant an existing sword, it would probably take about 2 days to properly set. Which will it be?”

“I want a new blade. You know that the newer a weapon is, the better the enchantment will be. Also, I know you are always working on improving yourself, and I am confident a new sword will be well worth the price.”

Durtor nodded, and turned away. “I’d better get started,” he said, as he moved through his workspace. “But there are a few things I need to know.”

I gave him the necessary information. I wanted, actually, two blades, a shortsword and a longsword, which would “take a bit longer, probably closer to two weeks. This is the stuff you need to tell me at the beginning, okay?” They were to be made out of mithril, a rare ore that “really drives up the price, are you sure? Other metals are pretty good too. Really? Okay, okay, fine.” A few other details were necessary, but not really important for just anyone to know.

Over the next two weeks, I did a few more jobs, but nothing very exciting. I was really just filling the time until I could have my new blades, which I had decided to call my ‘vorpal blades’, because it sounded cool, even though an actual vorpal blade simply could decapitate a person and any of mine could do that if necessary.

After the two weeks, I went to pick up my new weapons. It was a Mountday, and I was, to be perfectly honest, quite excited. I had never had magical blades, as I had thought them unnecessary, but I had made an exception for these.

“You must bind them to your will,” Durtor told me, “or else they will never obey you.” That seemed kinda obvious to me, but hey, it was a fair assumption about my intelligence. “What do I need to do, anyway?”

“You must take hold of one of the swords, with both hands.” I did so, feeling like a paladin or something. “Now, press the tip into your forehead, enough to take a drop of blood.”

“This sounds painful, but most rituals are.”

“Yes, blood is a powerful bonding tool. Now just do it already.” I moved the longsword until the cool metal of the tip rested against my head, and then pressed it as Durtor had told me to. A drop of blood fell onto the blade, and ran down it until it hit the guard, where it soaked in. I felt a shiver go down my spine, as a feeling of openness surrounded me.

“You may feel overwhelmed by the many strange feelings coming over you. This is a synchronicity with the sword, which shares with you the vast feeling of many dimensions. No matter where you go, this blade will follow you, and you will control its power. It is a weapon sought after by many, though as long as you live, only you will be its master. Guard it well, for it is a great tool, and it will guard you as well. Now, the other one.”

We did the same process with the shortsword, including Durtor’s speech, which probably contained power in and of itself. Following that, I followed him to the training arena, where several magical fighters stood at attention. They were unintelligent dummies, set at several levels, for fighting against, both newbies and veterans with weapons. I selected ones about middling level, so that I could practice with these different swords. In addition to the two vorpal blades, I had shield-like protection on my forearms, leather armor on the rest of my body, a dagger hidden on the side of my boot, two more daggers in my coat, and a shortbow slung across my back, with a quiver of arrows. I walked into the arena, readied my swords, and called out to start.

Two dummies ran at me from an archway, one with a hand and a half sword, the other with a club. I quickly checked around me to make sure that no other enemies were coming, and, reassured that these were the only ones here, moved such that the one with the club was directly in front of the sword dummy, thus giving myself one target at a time.

The dummy swung the club at me, which I easily dodged back to avoid, then I rushed forward and plunged the longsword into its chest. It lurched to the side, and I phased my blade so that I wouldn’t be knocked off balance. The sword only contained the weight of the handle when phased, which was good to know, so that I wouldn’t overcommit myself or make a mistake based on weight, and I rolled to the side to dodge the next swing.

Almost too late, I remembered the other dummy, and moved my arm shield to block the strike I heard coming from my left side. I brought my shortsword in, hooked the much larger sword with the guard, and braced myself. The dummy pushed hard, trying to use brute force to overpower my blade, when I moved my body to the side and phased my sword. The dummy fell, overbalanced, and I calmly stabbed it in the head, the only place capable of deactivating them. The club dummy was up now, and coming for me. It brought the club down hard, but I rolled to my right and quickly switched my blades (my typical arrangement is longsword right hand, shortsword left hand). I brought my longsword into the thing’s back, shoved it to the ground, and stabbed it in the head with the shortsword. The fight now over, the two dummies got up and went back to their storage area, waiting for the next fight.

“Impressive,” Robin said, walking up to me.

“Sloppy,” I corrected, panting, “but I can improve. Were you watching the entire fight?”

“First of all, I was talking about the swords themselves. You, however, were terrible. Second of all, yes, I saw the whole thing. Making them come at you one at a time was a good idea, but you have to remember that they are both there. I saw your surprise when you had to block that sword dummy. Good move with the phasing out, though. Could be very useful in the future.”

I shook my head, amazed at what he had said. “Yes, that is why I got them. That is exactly what I wanted.”

He raised his hands, shrugged, and replied, “Hey, I didn’t know what kind of swords you were going for. Two weeks ago, you just told me ‘I want a new magical blade and hey, here’s my current one because I’ve only had it for two years and don’t want it anymore’.”

“That was a pretty good impression of me. Good job,” I said, and he smiled.

“Why do I even hang out with you?” he asked, “because all you do is the wrong or rash thing and never tell me anything.”

“It’s either my winning personality or the fact that you are the one that recruited me into the guild.”

“Well, it’s certainly not your personality.”

“Haha, very funny. Now, let’s go get us something else to do. I’m bored.”

We made our way to a tavern (taverns are great, they are like restaurants mixed with motels, aka motels with good food) and got some food, because it was about midday.

“Hey,” I said to get his attention, “you wanna steal from that dude I told you about right after telling you about getting these epic boots?”

Robin shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Now, what about this mage do we need to know?”

“Well, they are very powerful and dangerous. Their name is Noxlumos, or the light in the darkness, which is all cool and all, but their staff is the good bit. I’m not sure if it teleports the user, or makes them invisible or what, but I know it doesn’t have a master because I’ve seen multiple people use it. They live at the edge of town, and I know they have very good defenses. We will have to be extremely cautious, but I think we can do it.”

He sighed. “Well, I’ve been waiting for a good reason to die, and this seems like it. Let’s do it.”

As per every mission we do, we had to get the necessary materials. I went to the blacksmith’s again, as well as a magical item shop and a general shop. I made a couple other stops, which aren’t necessary to mention, and I had all my equipment. I met up with Robin at the guild, and used our hand code to ask him whether he had the things I asked him to get. He said that he did, and we were ready to go. When we got near, we saw what we were up against.

They had a large house, more like a mansion, with grass out front, and a stone path up to it. It was very nice, except for the clay golem out front.

“Well, that makes things a bit more difficult,” I said.

“Wait, you did scope this place out first, right? That’s how you knew what to get?” he asked, worriedly.

“Yes, I knew to scope the house out, but this is a new addition. Makes me wonder what else might be in there. Eh, no matter. We got this. Just need to sneak past a creature designed to not sneak.”

He sighed. “You know, I was joking when I said I was ready to die, but hey, whatever. Let’s do this.”

We crept around to the side of the house, and started to climb it. I made it to a second story window, which had actual glass in it, went up onto the windowsill, and waited for Robin to join me.

“Now, I don’t know exactly what we’re going to find here. I know most of the defenses, but I can’t be 100% sure of everything, and the layout of the house and where the staff is isn’t really known to me, except for perhaps an idea based off of other houses of similar construction,” I told him.

“Okay, let’s just go. I’ve resigned myself to this fate, let’s get it over with,” he replied.

I used my shortsword to cut a hole in the glass (gotta love freshly sharpened blades!), and we quietly climbed through. We found ourselves in what looked like a bathroom, except everything was white. It seemed to be made of some kind of stone, like quartz, though much more fragile, from the way it felt. In fact, the entire room was like something out of a fantasy book, with many strange and unknown things in it. We were very confused by the whole thing, and so moved on. We went into the hallway, which was covered in rug-like material, like a carpet over the flooring. We neutralized any alarms we found, and almost activated a few before noticing them

‘This “mage” seems much more powerful than I thought’ Robin signalled at me.

‘Yes, it is possible he is a wizard, but I only knew he used magic, not exactly what kind,’ I responded. ‘Now be quiet. We don’t want to attract attention.’

We continued, looking through the rooms, finding many strange-looking things which we didn’t touch, for we did not know what they would do, and we were too smart to risk it. We found what appeared to be a kitchen, dining room, and living area, but no sign of the staff. Finally, we found a bedroom, which contained the wizard, sleeping in a large bed.

‘Since I have the magical boots and know what the staff looks like, I’ll head in. If I see the staff, I’ll signal you and grab it,’ I told him, and he nodded in agreement.

I crept into the room, careful to make sure my boots made not a sound. I looked around, but couldn’t immediately see the staff. I moved to the side of the bed and looked under it. Nothing was underneath, and so I turned toward the closet that was to the left of the entrance. It was full of wizard clothing, as one might expect, but there was something else that I could make out. It didn’t appear to be the staff, but I was curious. I moved close to the closet, and saw a bow. Well, I thought, that is good to know, I suppose. I looked around again, and saw a chest on the other side of the room, which might contain something magical. I quietly moved toward it, and used one of my charms, which was supposed to Detect Monsters. I had encountered a Mimic before, and had no desire to do so again, especially right next to a wizard. It seemed to be a normal chest, so I used a few more charms to check and neutralize any alarms I could find on it, oiled the hinges so it wouldn’t creak, and then it was time.

I reached for the chest, readied myself, and opened the lid quickly. It is always best to do certain things quickly, similar to ripping off a bandage. The chest opened smoothly, and didn’t seem to trigger any alarms, though I looked at the wizard to make sure they weren’t awake. I looked into the chest and -

“Eureka,” I said under my breath, reaching in and taking out the staff. It was long, probably about 5 feet tall, and I couldn’t understand how it fit in the chest at first, until I realized it was a Chest of Compression, which made items smaller when they are put in them. It was fairly nondescript, a tall, wooden pole, except for the top, where the image of a spider stood, raised on all 8 legs, in bronze. On its abdomen was a gem, and its eyes were studded ruby. I had seen it before, and so knew it was the correct staff, as well as the thrill of power running through it.

I moved back out into the hall after closing the lid of the chest carefully, and signalled to Robin that I had the staff, to which he replied, ‘Well, I think that’s obvious, considering the fact that you are holding it.’ I told him not to be a smart aleck, and we made our way back through the strange room to where we had entered. I wrapped the staff in cloth, strapped it to my back alongside my bow, and climbed back out the window. I quickly made my way down, and Robin followed. We crept away from the house, doing our best not to awaken the golem, and we must’ve done something right, because we made it all the way back to the guild without the beast coming after us.

The next day, Robin came over to my room. I had put the wrapped staff under my bed, where it had lain below me while I meditated. When he got there, I took out the staff, and slowly unwrapped it. In the daylight coming in from my window, we could better see the figure at the top. It was definitely a spider, and the crystal in its abdomen looked like a blue amethyst, in the shape of an hourglass.

“This almost definitely has some kind of symbolism or significance to it,” I said, “but I have no idea what. Eh, I’m sure it’ll come up again later.”

Robin sighed. “That’s a terrible way to go through life, but okay.”

“Come on, man, let’s see what it can do. Actually, scratch that. Let’s check it for malevolence, and then use it!”

We left my room, and went to our wizard’s quarters. We handed him the staff, told him we found it in a shop and liked it, and asked him to check it for anything evil. He found nothing, except that it contained very potent magic, and wondered “what kind of shop will just sell something this powerful?” We shrugged, and went back to my room.

“Well, now can we try the stick?”

“Fine.”

I took out the staff, braced it against the floor, and gripped it with both hands.

“Do I have to say something, or will it just happen, or what?”

“Dude, I have no idea, you’re the one who saw people use it.”

“Okay, I think I just have to concentrate on… something… I’m not sure. Grab the staff as well, just in case, though.”

Robin grabbed the staff, just below where I was holding it, and I, not knowing what exactly I was doing, moved one of my hands and gripped the spider’s body in my hand, on top of the staff. A shiver went down my spine, similar to the thrill of power I felt when I first held it. One at a time, the spider’s legs moved, coming up for a second, and then settling back down on the staff. This freaked me out a bit, though I found that I couldn’t let go of it.

By this point, I was having second thoughts, especially as a wind picked up, circling throughout the room, and the amethyst set in the spider began to glow. Robin had already started screaming, and I was panicking a lot. My eyes wide, I tried to move away, but the staff was firmly stuck, attached to nothing, and I was attached to it, as was Robin. The room started to spin, or at least it appeared to, and colors were flying everywhere, reds and blues mixing and bathing the room in a multi-colored madness. The wind was at cyclone levels now, or so it felt, and my last thought before spinning into unconsciousness was, Please mommy, let me off of this ride, it isn’t fun. I’m guessing I was a little loopy from whatever was happening.

When I woke up, I was in a field. It seemed to be farmland, though the crop was unknown to me. It was tall, almost as tall as me, with some kind yellow thing on the end of long, green stalks. As it hadn’t attacked me, I had to assume it was either a passive entity or inanimate. Robin was laying next to me, with the staff nearby. I quickly rewrapped the staff, which looked the same as before we tried to use it, and tried to wake Robin up.

“Robin!” I said, slapping his cheek, “we need to go!”

“Wh-what?” he said groggily, his eyes opening up slightly. “Where are we?”

I looked around, and saw that it was about midday here, as well. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think it’s anywhere good.”

He got to his feet, I put the staff on my back again, and we started off. After about 10 minutes of walking, we saw something resembling a house, which we stopped to look at, though it was entirely blue and the structure was different from most of the houses I had seen in my life. The closest I could think of was the wizard’s house that we had stolen the staff from, which did not fill me with confidence or excitement.

“Well, we might as well go in,” Robin said, and I sighed and started to walk toward it again.

“Sure, while we’re here in this strange place, let’s go to the random house. That sounds like a great idea, yeah,” I said sarcastically, and we got to the door.

“Should we knock, sneak in, or what?” Robin asked me. I reached up and knocked, for I felt like being dangerous. A few seconds later, a woman answered the door. She was wearing strange fabric, and was very tan.

“Yeah? What do you want?” she asked exasperatedly, to which I replied, “Hello, um, where are we?” She blinked, and then laughed.

“Yeah, a lot of folks get lost out in the country. Your car must’ve broken down, huh? Well, if you follow that road-” She gestured to the side, where a road lay “-for a few miles, you’ll find yourselves in Chicago. Were you going to a convention of some kind? I didn’t know there was a Comic-Con going on around here, but I’m not really that kind of gal, so what do I know? Nice costumes, you must’ve put a lot of work into it.”

“Uh, thank you? We’ll be leaving now.”

“Okay, okay, I’m probably talking your ears off. Enjoy yourselves!”

As we walked over to the road, I mulled over what she had talked about. Cars? Chicago? Conventions? Comic-Con? Where were we?

We started to walk down the road. The sun beat down, burning us up, and strange machines whizzed by us at frightening speeds. Considering what the woman had told us, I assumed these were cars, which terrified me for what might happen should they break down at those speeds. Robin tried to make conversation, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.

After about an hour, we were both exhausted, though, in the distance, we saw buildings towering up into the sky, which I assumed was the city. Half an hour later, we were dragging ourselves up the road, and the city was laid out in front of us. It was terrifying, because wherever we were, the sky was blocked off mostly by the giant buildings, which looked like they were scraping the top of the world. We collapsed beneath one, and Robin almost immediately fell asleep. I, still watchful and cautious of a new place, sat in the lotus position and meditated.

When I was finished, about 4 hours later, I decided to leave. I set up some defenses, though one of my charms didn’t seem to be working properly, which was strange. As I walked through the city, I was glad to know that I could read all of the signs and such around it. It seemed to be in Common, though it possibly had an enchantment to let anyone read it in their main language. There were many strange and disturbing things, and the ‘cars’ seemed to take over most of the walking space. Many people stared at me, but I am used to that, especially because of my hair. I pulled my hood up to cover it, but they continued to look. I was getting pretty annoyed by that point, and so I moved into a building. It seemed to be some kind of clothing store, though not with any kind of armor or protection in general as something important. The main deciding factor in what people were buying seemed to be the design, which seemed inane and unimportant to me, but whatever.

I decided that I needed some new clothes so that I could fit in wherever we were, but I wasn’t willing to give up what I was already wearing. I decided to get a large blue sweater to wear over my clothing, with a hood so that I could cover my hair (and ears, for it didn’t seem like anyone else here was an elf). I decided to get some ‘sweatpants’, simply because they seemed to cover my legs the best while also allowing me to move. I brought them to the counter, where I tried to pay with a couple silver coins, the price I would gauge for the items, though apparently wherever we were used small, green slips of paper as currency. Somehow, I managed to get the clothes honestly, and get out of there. I had to find a place for my bow, which I simply ended up leaving behind near where Robin was, and I had to enchant the appearance of the staff so it didn’t look like it had the spider on it. Other than that, with the clothes I got (I forgot to get any for Robin, though he blended in a little better), I think I fit in enough to not draw too many looks.

When I returned to Robin, he was awake and standing. He looked a little upset, which I suppose he was entitled to considering I had left him alone here.

“So, where are we? Did you find that out when you left me here?” he asked, annoyed.

“Yes, I believe we are in the ‘Chicago’ the woman told us about, and the people here use green slips of paper for currency. Everyone speaks Common, so you don’t have to worry about that, though I only saw humans, not any dwarfs, elves, or even halflings.”

“Could be an entirely human settlement.”

“Maybe, but it seems too large for that. Also, the clothing store I went to didn’t have any armor or defenses at all, only thin fabric like this. In addition to that, some of my charms didn’t work. One of them almost blew up in my face, which definitely isn’t normal.”

“Let’s ask around, see if we can find where we are. We should split up and meet back in, hm, an hour? Yeah, an hour.”

We went in different directions, him down one street, me down another.

“Well, Alushtas,” I said under my breath to myself, “Where should you go to find out information?”

I looked around for a while, and saw some more stores that I decided I would not enter until I had the correct money to pay for items, as well as some residential buildings. Everything was extremely tall, even taller than the tavern we had stolen from weeks ago, and it all confused me quite a lot. Eventually, I found a pawn shop, which luckily didn’t look too different from the ones I had seen before, except for the neon signs and the human pawnbroker (most of the ones I knew were goblins or orcs, for whatever reason). I managed to trade some of my gold pieces for about $150, which seemed like a good amount. By this point, it had been half an hour, but I kept looking around.

After about 5 minutes, I saw a large building, mercifully not nearly as tall as the others surrounding me, but still quite big. By this point, I had decided that either we were in a very far away part of the world, or we had shifted dimensions. I went inside, intent on finding a mage that could help transport us back to Faerûn, but when I got to the person at the desk, who seemed to be someone in charge, all she told me was, “Look, sir (which I did not appreciate), there are flights to San Diego, California, you might find a convention there. I don’t know much about them, but I’ve heard of wizards at conventions.” I thanked her, and booked two tickets to California.

I returned to our meeting location about five minutes before Robin arrived. I told him what I suspected about where we were, and that there were wizards in California that might be able to give us the assistance we needed. He told me that he didn’t find anything, though he also managed to get some money, as well as some food. It was similar to foods back home, but strangely different as well.

We got to our flight a bit late, but managed to board, and it was terrifying! We were trapped in a metal tube, thousands of feet in the air, with nothing to do. It took about four and a half hours, and somehow Robin was able to relax. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to ride in such a monstrosity again, for I didn’t even like riding animals that flew, let alone mechanical beasts.

When we landed, I got as far away from the metal machine as quickly as possible, though I did collect the things I had in my luggage. I am not sure how we made it through security, as it seemed to have detectors of weapons, but I’m assuming Robin used some kind of magic to fool them. It was nearly night, so we looked around and found a place to spend the night. It was a motel, and didn’t cost too much, which was nice. We crashed into our beds, confident that the next day would bring us good fortune.

As an elf, I didn’t really sleep, I merely meditated. 4 hours of meditation for me is about the same as 8 hours of sleep for a human, I believe, and much more productive, for I can think, ponder, and contemplate as I desire while meditating, instead of being dead-brained or dreaming. I woke up much before Robin, and decided to explore again. I left him a note this time, and left the room.

The city was similar to Chicago, but definitely different as well. From what I saw, we were in luck, for the ‘Comic-con’ was going to be in about a week. I didn’t know exactly what a Comic-con was, but from what I’d been told, it definitely seemed like the sort of place where I’d find a wizard. Also, it quickly became clear that we had changed dimensions, and the only seemingly sentient creatures here were humans, with a lot of the other races I knew to exist living only in the pages of fantasy books and games. I found one roleplaying, tabletop game called Dungeons and Dragons, which had a lot of information about a lot of things that I knew about, including my own species. A large world that was a part of D&D, as it was called, was even called Faerûn, which freaked me out. After some thinking, I decided that someone had been to this universe, and created a game based off of our world, giving me hope that they may be able to help us escape.

When I returned, I found Robin eating breakfast. He didn’t seem angry that I had left, especially when I told him what I knew.

“Well, it’s a stretch,” he said, “but I think if an actual wizard was here, they would be at this Comic-con. I found some information, and apparently a lot of people dress up, or cosplay, as different fictional people or species, including, surprisingly, elves. Probably the only place in this realm that you can be uncovered without attracting attention.”

I laughed, and responded, “I think I’ll still attract attention, if just because my elf cosplay is so good.”

“Fair enough.”

We spent the week learning more about ‘Earth’, which is an interesting place. It seemed that magic did not naturally occur here, but could exist. It was what is known as a Chaos realm, where both technology and magic both exist, though magic did not always work correctly because it isn’t natural there. However, possibly because they were designed to go between dimensions, my Vorpal blades worked perfectly, which was wonderful in a world that, while being much more violent than most, absolutely did not tolerate using such blades.

The day before we went to Comic-Con, I believe it was a Wednesday, we really didn’t have anything to do. I was sick of learning about Earth, and Robin had learned as much as he needed to, which was good enough for him.

“So,” he said, walking up to me. I was leaning against a wall of the breakfast area of the motel, eating a bagel with cream cheese. “We have gotten to know each other, and grown, I think at least, to be friends. However, I don’t know anything about your past. All I know is that you are a thief, and a good conversationalist. Tell me about yourself.”

I took a deep breath, and thought for a minute. “Okay, do you want me to start all the way back at the beginning?”

“Yeah, I think that would be a good place to begin,” he said after a moment’s consideration.

“Okay, then. Let’s see… My birth was special, for most elves are born male or female. I, however, was born completely androgynous, with neither sexes’ genitals or anything, in the image of one of the elven gods, Corellon Larethian. At least in my culture, anyone can be anything, and gender doesn’t hold anyone back, though we androgynes are special. Because of our androgyny, we don’t experience puberty like other elves. It is difficult to explain, but the point is, we don’t experience sexual attraction or the normal mood swings or whatever of being a teenager. We cannot be seduced because of this, though I suppose we could be seduced romantically, because we can still feel romantic love. We typically become warriors or something like that, and I later chose to be a thief, because it’s fun.

“In addition to that, I also have my hair. It evidently changes color depending on my mood, which can make it difficult to hide my emotions, though it has helped me become more in tune with them than I believe others are. I do not know why it changes colors, though I have tried to find out in my past.

“I lived in elven woods, for, yes, I am a wood elf, and my woods were fairly safe, and there were some more wild woods next to ours. I believe there were animals there that we didn’t feel comfortable dealing with, and our woods were plentiful enough, and so we were content to stay where we were. There was a halfling settlement in our forest, not too far from the wild woods, and I spent a lot of time there. Some elves lived as caretakers for the young halflings, and one of those halflings was my best friend, a young boy named Tyr. We got into a lot of mischief, which probably got me on the path to be a thief and a rogue. He was a lot of fun, though, one day, when he was a teenager, he wanted to go with his sister and caretaker to explore some ruins he heard about in the wild woods. I advised him not to, as there was a reason we didn’t go there, but he didn’t listen to me. He got his stuff together, prepped himself for the mission, and left. I never saw him again.”

“That’s terrible,” Robin said sympathetically.

“Yeah. He told me he would be back in 2 weeks, but after a month, I was disparaged. After it had been 2 months, I felt incredibly guilty. I felt that if I had gone with him, I could’ve protected him. I left home, for it held too many memories of him, and went out into the world.

“I traveled around a bit, ended up in Ten-Towns, and stayed for a bit. Eventually, I moved on, and moved around more. Finally, I ended up in Calimport, where I became a thief. You heard about my first job, and then I just kind of made my way around until I found my way here. That’s about it for me, I think. What about you?”

Robin sighed. “My story really isn’t that exciting. Still, I guess I can’t dissuade you. I lived with my parents until I was 16, when I was kicked out for being aromantic and asexual. Humans are, unfortunately, much less accepting than other races. Anyway, similar to you, I kinda just went around, being a street rat, stealing what I needed. Eventually, I managed to pull off such a big stunt that, of course, my current guild found and recruited me, just as I recruited you.”

“That is certainly shorter than my backstory, though just as important. I’m sorry about your parents.”

He shrugged, and said, “Eh, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. It hurt at first, but by now I haven’t talked to them at all, and I’ve understood that not everybody is accepting, and that is something that needs to be changed.”

“I didn’t know you were ace aro, why haven’t you told me?” I asked, cocking my head to one side.

“Didn’t feel the need to, I guess. I don’t know,” he responded sheepishly.

“That’s fair. Anyway, what do you want to do today? We’ve stood here for about half an hour, we still have like 10 hours or something about math and time.”

“Uh, I don’t know, there’s a park somewhere around here called SeaWorld, wanna go?”

I considered for a moment, and then replied, “Sure, as long as we can get in”

We went over to SeaWorld, where we luckily had enough to pay the entrance fee. To write, it wasn’t very exciting, though Robin did try to free the otters: “They’re just too cute to stay here! We have to help them!”. We rode the few rides there were, and in the end, I didn’t really enjoy the trip, because we both felt bad for the animals. When we got back, we reviewed our game plan for Comic-Con.

“So, we’re going to go as ourselves, because lots of people will be like that,” Robin said. “Your ‘costume’ is the best of anyone’s around, obviously, and so you will probably draw a crowd. Do your thing, use those blades, dazzle them. I’ll be looking for anyone that looks like they are too interested in what you’re doing, and approach them. I know what I’m going to say, though I will definitely end up improvising. I’m sure we’ll find someone that can help us.”

“Sounds good, and I’m hopeful we can get back soon,” I replied.

The next morning, we were both excited. We were finally going to get our answers. Fairly early that morning, we set out. It took us a bit to find the convention center, which Robin remarked upon: “This sounds exactly like the sort of thing we should’ve prepared for earlier this week”. I hate it when he’s right.

When we got there, we were awestruck at the spectacle before us. Hundreds of people, dressed as wizards, elves, orcs, comic book superheroes, video game characters, and soooooooo much more were there. Cosplayers of every kind, colors everywhere, it was incredible! I can’t begin to describe the wonder I felt, or everything I wondered at.

“All the hype was worth it,” Robin whispered to me, and I slowly nodded.

“This is… wow,” I responded, my eyes large. The twos of us, Robin and I, walked into the center, and my jaw dropped. It was even better than the outside! So many people, packed into the place! I knew it was big, but now I was wondering how exactly I was supposed to entertain everybody while Robin looked through them.

“Okay, slight change to the plan. I’m going to go up on that stage and begin my act. I’ll invite some people up, do some cool stuff. I’ll use a spell to broadcast my voice, for I think it’d be difficult to get a connected microphone headpiece thing. You get up there-” I pointed up to some of the pathways near the ceiling, probably so that those large posters on the wall could be hung, or something “- and use this charm of seeing” -I produced a small magnifying glass from my pocket - obviously enchanted, not just a magnifying glass “-and scan the crowd. You know what to look for, and, I don’t know, figure out a way to contact them. Maybe you have a charm, or something, I’m not sure. Improvise, you’re good at that!”

“This is a terrible idea,” Robin told me, “and you’re going to get kicked out. Still, I can’t think of a better idea.”

I grinned. “Good, and besides, if I do well enough, they won’t want me to leave. Now go up, and get ready.”

I waited while he made his way through back ways and such, until he was up on the pathways (I should really figure out what they are called, but we don’t have them where I come from, and I don’t feel like learning it). He tossed something down at me, not sure how it got to me through the crowd, and I looked questioningly at him. He mimed putting it in my ear, and it did look like some kind of earpiece. I gently placed it in my ear, wincing slightly, for I didn’t think it was meant for my pointy elven ears.

“Hey,” a voice that sounded like Robin’s came into my ear. I jumped, and looked up at him. He was grinning, of course.

“Can we communicate through these?” I hesitantly asked, to which I heard, while noticing it was definitely Robin speaking, “Yeah, I found a couple earpieces and tuned them to each other. Don’t know how I managed, but hey, if it ain't broke, don’t knock it.”

I chuckled, and responded, “Fair. Let’s get this show on the proverbial road and the literal stage.”

I pushed my way through the crowd, passing Captain Americas, Captain Rogers’, Captain Mal Reynolds’, and many others that were not Captains. Finally, I made my way to the stage. Wondering what exactly I would say, I jumped up onto it, where there were luckily no people, and muttered to myself, “I’m an introvert, and yet I’m here at such an extrovert place, about to do something terrifying. It’s a good thing I really want to get home, and I really hope this works.”

I activated my charm as people looked up at me, wondering what an elf was doing up on stage, and began speaking.

“Hello, all of you. You might be wondering what I’m doing up here on stage. To be honest, I am not sure either, but I think I’m supposed to give a demonstration or whatever it’s called for my cosplay, but they didn’t really tell me. Hey, can I get some boxes or something destructible up here?”

A couple confused convention workers brought up some empty boxes, while I sweated, wondering if I should make a run for it. Somehow, though, nobody came up and stopped me. I wasn’t even sure why there was a stage up here in the first place. Was an event or actual demonstration supposed to happen? Whatever the case, this was working, and I could see Robin up there scanning the crowd, though none of them really should be interested yet.

It was time to change that.

I deftly pulled out my sword, keeping it in this dimension. I did some basic fighter’s moves, which seemed to impress the people.

“This is one of two Vorpal blades of mine. The name is misleading, or rather, does not do my blades justice. A vorpal blade simply is one that has the capacity to decapitate a foe, especially in fantasy games such as Dungeons and Dragons. However, all of my blades are like that.”

A few nervous laughs floated to me. I looked up at Robin for support, and he gave me a thumbs up. He spoke to me, saying, “Now, tell them the special thing and give them a little demonstration.”

“Okay. My blades are special, for they are enchanted. They can change dimensions at my will, and thus pass through objects in this one when I desire, and join back up in this one to cut what I want.”

To demonstrate, I deftly stabbed my sword at the first box, phasing it just before it broke the flimsy cardboard.

“Now, that may not look impressive, as you do not know that my blades do any damage at all, or that these boxes were not staged so I would not appear to do any damage. Furthermore, optical illusions could render it such that I did not stab the cardboard at all, and thus am a fraud. Now, will someone please come up here? I really don’t care who.”

People murmured amongst themselves, until one person stepped forward.

“I will,” they said, and I asked them a little about themselves. They were John, a human male, who came alone, dressed as The Arrow from DC. He loved coming to Comic-Con, and was excited at the opportunity to be a part of what he thought of as a very real and planned demonstration. He came up on stage, and I appraised him.

“I loved your T.V. show,” I said, saying the first thing that popped into my head. I had never seen a single episode, but knew that it was a thing and hoped he wouldn’t question me.

He beamed at me, and said, “Thank you! You are a really good elf!”

“I try. Now,” I directed this at the crowd, “I shall prove, in front of a witness, that these blades are no joke.”

I quickly pulled the handles close to myself, phased them back into reality, and drove them into the boxes. They easily cut through them, for they were designed to cut through things much tougher than some boxes. I then rapidly whirled, phased my blades out of sync, swept the handles just in front of John’s face, and phased them back in sync with the world. I asked a stunned, slightly scared John to touch the blades, and he reported they were very sharp.

“Now, was that an optical illusion? I think not. I am also a great fighter, and master of small charms.” At this, I tossed up a charm I had created haphazardly and quickly earlier, which exploded into a sunburst of light. I had built it to be merely light and not also heat, a better model, I think, than the fireworks of Earth. I pulled another from my cloak, threw it to the ground, and watched as the image of a unicorn burst from it, dazzling the crowd as it dashed between them, an apparition and nothing more. After lapping the center, it returned to the charm, which I picked up. I asked John to return, and I thought about what I would do next.

I heard Robin tell me, “I may have found someone. Here, let me give you some sight.” Before I could protest, I was looking through one of Robin’s eyes and one of my own, which was quite disconcerting. I closed the eye connected to my own vision, and looked through Robin’s. He was looking at a wizard, quite a well done cosplay, perhaps too well done. He was staring attentively at me, but not the same way as the others. He wasn’t awed, or surprised, just kinda wide-eyed, like he couldn’t believe someone else was here. I nodded, prepared for vertigo, and opened my other eye.

After a moment, I noticed the position of the wizard. I noted him in my mind, noted where he was, and whispered to Robin to disconnect us. My vision was yanked back to my own perspective, which was nice, and I prepared my next bit. Everyone was still oohing and aahing at my magic, and so I decided to have a little fun.

“You there!” my voice boomed, my finger pointed at the wizard. He panicked, and I quickly said, “No, please, come on up. I won’t hurt you, I just want another person for my next part. John was lovely, but you look like you know some real magic!” I laughed, and the audience laughed as well. He was pushed forward, and reluctantly got up on stage.

“Now, what is your name?” I asked him, which was the polite way to go about things, I believed.

He glared at me, and responded, “I am Thuzhal, a wizard banished to this realm for many heinous acts.”

“Ooh, nice backstory. I like it! What kinds of acts?” I replied enthusiastically.

He sighed, and said, “Well, people don’t really ask me, so I say they’re heinous. I was just kinda messing around and apparently broke something important, and so I was magically exiled. I was trying to figure out how to get back in, looking through probably forbidden texts, when I tried a spell to return me to the place so I could undo my exile, but it instead sent me across dimensions and I ended up on this technology-ridden, climate-changed planet.”

I clapped, and people in the audience followed my example. “I like that! Gives you an objective, something dark, and just enough flare of mystery. Now, my good sir, I am also not from around here. I was transported here when I tried to figure out the true magical nature of my staff, here-” I gestured at the staff I had leaned against a wall, yes, obviously the one topped with the spider, “-and found myself in a cornfield in Illinois! Naturally, I was confused, as corn does not exist in my world, and I did not know that I had changed dimensions. Now, my man, I believe we can help each other! You know magic and magical items, and I have my staff! Now, for my demonstration…” I decided to try a little something. I pulled out my blades, and concentrated on making them visible, but slightly out of sync with Earth. The sword blades usually became invisible when phased, but I did my best to keep that from happening.

The blades flickered, trying to change dimensions, but I did my best. Eventually, they came into full view, but I passed them gently through my hand to make sure they weren’t physical. I then whirled and, similarly to what I did with John, tried to swing it through the wizard’s neck. However, he was also armed, and so tried to block my attack, which obviously failed. My blade passed straight through him, and he retaliated, swinging a small dagger at me with ferocity and a wild look in his eyes. From the way he handled his blade, I could tell he wasn’t experienced. This was going to end quickly, luckily, I thought, and parried his frenzied swing.

With a series of quick swipes, jabs, kicks, and punches, I disarmed the wizard and sent him to his knees. “Look, man, I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry for swinging at you, but it was part of the demonstration. You can get up and help me, or leave, alone, stuck here, probably never to return to your home. Which would you prefer?”

Thuzhal considered my words, and grudgingly got to his feet. I handed him his dagger, which appeared to be made of mithril, and smiled.

“Good, now let’s get out of here. I’m not even supposed to be demonstrating anything here, I just got up on stage and nobody stopped me for whatever reason.” I deactivated my microphone-like charm, and told Robin, “Come on, let’s go.”

He ran into a door, and quickly joined me. I surveyed the crowd, which was full of whispers, no doubt about me and what I had just said. I jumped down, followed by Thuzhal and Robin, and we pushed past the crowd, out of the door, and ran a block before slowing to a walk. We returned to our motel, and I was happy we had managed to complete our goal for that day.

“I’m afraid we may have a problem,” Thuzhal said, walking into the bedroom.

“What kind of problem?” I asked, a little surprised by his sudden entrance and a little frustrated that he couldn’t immediately solve all of our problems.

He winced at the strength of my words, and responded, “Well, I know what kind of magic it uses, and I can partially control it. However, I cannot control the exact dimension. I can make it so that we don’t end up places we can’t survive, like in the vastness of space, or on a planet where the air is poisonous. We will have to travel many worlds until we either get lucky and end up in the right one, or find someone who can use your energy signatures to lock onto our universe. Will that work?”

I thought about it, looked over at Robin, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and looked back at Thuzhal. “Well, I guess we don’t really have a choice, so let’s go with that. Do we have any idea how long this will take?”

Thuzhal grinned, and said loudly, “Nope!”

I sighed, and replied, “Well, pack your bags. Might as well get right on down to it.”

We packed the gear we wanted to bring with us, which included some probably illegal items. It has been neglected to mention that these items included two assault rifles, lots of ammo, a couple grenades, a few other guns, including a sniper rifle and a pistol (of course we also had plenty of those ammos as well, and I intended to get a blacksmith or something to break them open and figure out how to make them and potentially augment them/the gun.). There were others, but I shouldn’t really mention them.

We gathered behind the motel, in the parking lot, after checking out and getting our stuff all ready. I readied myself for what was about to happen, planted the staff at arm’s length in front of me, and Robin and Thuzhal both grabbed it. After exchanging grim looks with both of them, I grabbed the spider, and it did the same thing as the previous time we used it, though the eyes seemed to glow brighter and the wind seemed stronger. I closed my eyes, and wondered what would happen on the other side, just before I lost consciousness.

When I returned to consciousness, I was confused. The sky was a pastel purple, with red dots swirling through it. It seemed like some kind of strange dream, and its colors were chaos. The ground was some kind of acid green, and there were portable toilets everywhere. They were in every shade, from green to blue to pink to yellow. I closed my eyes, as I felt a migraine coming on. I shaded my eyes and reopened them, looking at the ground for Robin and Thuzhal. I found Thuzhal covering his eyes, peeking through his fingers at the landscape, and Robin was still passed out on the ground. Oh, and, by the way, Thuzhal is a human.

“This is a strange world you have brought us to, elf,” he told me, and I followed his gaze. I had originally thought that the toilets were just sitting there, but as I really looked at them, I saw that they were moving. There was even a small village, made of what I couldn’t say, as there wasn’t a tree or rock around. Even the ground itself was a deep green, and made of a substance I couldn’t make out. It was smooth, and I could push my hand through it, like a partial liquid. It was strange, as none of us were sinking into it, but it didn’t seem like good building material. The toilets weren’t walking, or splitting apart in any way, but just seemed to glide, all of which seemed very strange and impossible to me. When they came to a step, they seemed like they just jumped, but with no downward movement to create thrust upward, if that makes sense.

“Let’s… explore?” I said hesitantly, and Thuzhal strode toward the settlement. I followed him, after a moment’s consideration, and dragged Robin behind me. When we got closer, we could see that it was made of some kind of wood, and so I guessed that they had just taken down any trees in view. It seemed similar to a Wild West town, minus the dust everywhere, horses, natural colors, or people. I was quite unnerved, and moved close to one of the johns.

“Uh… hello?” I said (asked?) hesitantly. It’s door turned to me, and it seemed to make an annoyed, squishy sound from within it.

“Do you guys have any wizards or magic folk at all?” I asked it. It moved toward me, making angry sounds from within it, and I backed away. “I don’t think it likes the sound of ‘wizard’.” It moved faster, squishing louder, and other toilets started coming over. I pulled Robin into a fireman’s carry on my back, and readied one of my blades.

“We should get out of here, Thuzhal,” I told him, and he nodded, his eyes frantic. I turned and ran, but there were toilets everywhere.

“No time! We have to do it here!” I shouted, and he grabbed the staff. I shrugged Robin forward and held his hand around the pole, and grabbed the arachnid on top.

When I awoke, I simply lay there. I didn’t really want to open my eyes and find out where we had landed, but I suppose it would have to happen eventually. I slowly opened my eyes, and squinted at the bright light coming from the sun… suns? There were two shining orbs in the sky, one more yellow-y, and one more orange-y. It was very hot, and the ground was grainy. When I looked at the landscape, I saw that we were in a large desert of sand, and there were a couple houses in the distance. It looked like about midday, but I couldn’t be sure how long the day lasted, so it would be best to start moving. I got to my feet, and noticed that both Thuzhal and Robin were still passed out.

“Hey,” I said, shaking Robin. He stirred, and started moving. I moved over to Thuzhal, and patted his shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, time to get up sleepyhead,” I told Thuzhal, and his eyes snapped open, then quickly shut.

“Where are we, and why is it so bright?” Thuzhal said, and Robin nodded in agreement.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but there are some houses over there, we can ask them. I hope it goes better this time than last time.”

Robin looked confused. He held up a finger, and said, “Last time? Do you mean Earth?”

I was also confused for a second, before I remembered that Robin had been asleep the previous dimension.

“Well, we travelled dimensions, and you know how we always fall unconscious when we do that? Well, you were asleep while Thuzhal and I almost died from sentient Porta-Potties.”

This only served to bewilder him even more, and I described the events that had taken place in the strange, colorful dimension.

“Anyway,” I said, finishing up, “we should get moving. We aren’t going to kill ourselves, after all!”

With that lovely remark, we started walking toward the houses. It was extremely hot, hotter than Calimport, even hotter than California in summer. I didn’t know how people handled it, but then I thought, perhaps the people here are different and more adapted to this environment.

After probably 15 minutes, we got to the houses. They were strange, quite small and kinda dome-like, circular, with person-height walls and a sloped, domed kinda roof. It was similarly colored as the sand, probably so that it could blend in, though the satellite dish looking thing on top of it kinda ruined the effect. It was silvery, and very much did not blend in.

“Sh-should we go in?” I asked tentatively, and Thuzhal marched forward, grinning. “Um, is that a yes?”

“I recognize this place!” he said in response, and knocked on the first door. I rushed toward him, but it was too late.

“HOW, exactly can you recognize this? You’ve never been here! You were directly transported to-” A thought rushed into my mind, causing me to stop in my tracks. “It’s like Faerûn, huh? Someone came from this world, or travelled here, and made a story or whatever based on this place?”

He slowly nodded, and simply replied, “Star Wars.”

The door opened, sliding to one side, and a man came out. I hadn’t seen a lot about Star Wars, but there were a lot of cosplayers at Comic-Con that I had recognized as probably being from this universe. The person that opened the door looked like Obi-Wan, except his hair was black. I blinked, for, while it was true I didn’t know much about Star Wars (already mentioned, but it makes this sentence flow better. Shut up, stupid), I knew that: 1. He wasn’t supposed to be on Tatooine until much later, when he looked old with white hair, or something, and 2. His hair was brown, not black. All of this was very confusing, especially once Qui Gon Jinn walked past, asking, “Who is it, honey?”

“U… u-um, I’m Alushtas, and these are Robin and Thuzhal,” I stammered, my eyes searching for answers I doubted I would easily find.

“Ah, hello! What lovely and strange names! What can I do for you?” he asked nicely, and I looked at my companions.

“Uh, can we come in? I think we need to talk to you,” I said kinda randomly, for I was still very confused and needed to figure out what was happening.

He smiled, and ushered us in. “Honey, come meet our guests!” he said, and Qui Gon walked back in.

I looked back and forth between the two men, and I asked Obi-Wan, “Why does he keep calling you ‘honey’?”

They looked at each other and smiled, and Obi-Wan told me, “Well, we were dating for a while, but then this wonderful man approached me, what, probably almost a year and a half ago, and proposed to me! Of course, I said yes, and we’ve been living here ever since, happier than ever!” Qui Gon came over and hugged Obi-Wan deeply, and the two men sat down on a couch, holding hands.

Thuzhal looked confused as well, though I had realized that this was not the normal Star Wars universe I knew, and the wizard asked, “Where is Luke? I thought he lived here.”

“Well, yes, he has, but once he married his spouse, they’ve been travelling the galaxy. Would you like some blue milk?”

“Uh, sure,” I said, and Obi-Wan waved his hand. A glass came over to me, as if by magic, and I sipped it warily. It was good, similar to Earth milk, but more coconut-y.

“Soooo, who has Luke married, anyway?” I asked Qui Gon, taking a longer drink from my glass.

“Oh, he ran off with that hooligan, Han Solo, for a bit, but he came back eventually, and told me they were getting married. I was shocked, for it seemed sudden, but they were happy, and so we gave them our blessing,” he replied, and I, suddenly realizing something, asked another question (we really wanted to ask questions, I guess), “So what happened to Chewbacca?”

“Ah, good old Chew. They are going around the galaxy, exploring, happy by themselves. They liked Han, but they always felt less, you know? They are very introverted, and just like to explore. They find people difficult to understand, and they’ve told me that everyone just goes too quickly for them. Last I heard, they were going to Coruscant, which is nice.”

“Mhm. Anyway, you guys haven’t mastered inter-dimensional travel yet, have you?” I asked, realizing that, while cool, this place wasn’t really gonna help us.

“Unfortunately, that project was shut down because of its possible repercussions and side effects and all that,” he told me, “did you need something like that?”

I shrugged, and said, “Yeah, it would’ve been nice, but I think we might be able to manage. We should be going, though. Thank you, both of you, for everything.”

Qui Gon smiled at us, and asked, “Are you sure you want to leave? We’d be happy for you to stay.”

I sadly smiled back at him, and replied, “Yeah, we need to go.”

We said our goodbyes, and left. When we were out of sight of the house, it was probably about midnight.

“Well guys? Shall we?” I said, holding out the spider-adorned staff.

We travelled through many more dimensions, probably more than I could ever describe. As we travelled, and got used to dimension-hopping, we slept for less and less time, and eventually simply got tired, and then slightly dizzy.

Something that I have talked about, but not really explained, was that Earth was a Chaos realm. This means that both magic and technology work there, though there are other realms in which magic works and tech doesn’t, ones where tech works and magic doesn’t, and ones where neither work. However, this is a flawed perspective. It is one described by wizards of old in my world (yes, interdimensional travel isn’t completely unknown back home in Faerun), and their experiences in other realms.

This is flawed for a couple reasons. It isn’t so simple as just ‘technology and magic, or one, or neither’. Magic can take many forms, and magic that works in one place doesn’t necessarily work in another. In the Star Wars-like world, there were Jedi that could manipulate objects using their mind and what they called the Force, which seems to be a type of magic. Meanwhile, my own magic could have been unstable or unusable, because it is a different world than mine. Similarly, magic could exist on Earth, though its inhabitants didn’t usually have it, leading to unpredictable results. I was lucky that only a couple of my charms failed or had issues, and not more of them. There were many other forms of magic, but to go into detail would take too long.

Technology is also a difficult thing to pin down. It’s basically just the application of knowledge for practical purposes, and so almost anything creature-made could be said to be technology. Again, some technology could function in some places, but not in others. Some steampunk worlds, for instance, couldn’t ‘fathom’ the existence of further innovation, like cars or computers. Other worlds were stuck in the Stone Age, and in some, not even bird’s nests could be made. I am not sure what would happen if one tried to make a bird’s nest in that world, but I had decided not to find out.

As we went along in our journey, I collected items. I wanted mementos of our travels, and hey, they might be useful in the future. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always able to pick things up, whether because of being chased by the inhabitants of the world or something else (and if you’re wondering if I took something from the Star Wars world, yes, I palmed a handle-looking thing with a button from a counter). This led to some fights, some running, and some pain. Still, I wanted certain items, like I think one was called a “Babel fish”, which allowed me to understand others, no matter what language they spoke.

Something that I realized was that no matter where we went, some items were still able to be used. I eventually figured out that it was because they were dimensional items, which transcended some of the ordinary rules of the realms. We started with two - the staff itself, which is a good thing, because otherwise we would’ve ended up stranded on a random world. The other was my Vorpal blades, which was nice, because I liked them. However, the realm we received the third (and fourth and fifth?) dimensional item(s) was very… strange…

We had come from a world of robots. There wasn’t a single human, elf, dog, orc, sentient species of any kind, or really any organic being that we found. Everything was automated, and seemed as though there had once been people, but then they had left, potentially leaving the robots there to keep things up until they returned. However, we realized that it was unlikely, if not impossible, that a machine could bring us home, rather than magic. Therefore, we left pretty quickly, though not before I got a small bracelet that had nanotech that could form a dagger in my hand in a millisecond, which could be quite useful.

When we arrived in the new realm, we found ourselves in a smallish room. There was a bed of flowers, yellow flowers, illuminated by a fairly dim light coming through a hole in the ceiling of the room. Actually, it seemed more like a cave, though we couldn’t really be completely sure. There was a hallway, or corridor, or whatever to our right. We went through it, and found a doorway.

We went through it, and walked through a system of rooms, some of which had puzzles, and traps, though none of them actually hurt us (well, except for Robin, who got a sprained ankle after falling through some leaves). We saw beings, some might call them monsters or abominations, which had very strange physical makeups. This wasn’t really uncommon for us to see, because of everywhere we had already been, but weird stuff is weird. One had a large eye as most of its body, and another looked similar to a frog. They ran from us, so we didn’t have to worry about fighting them, and when we got to the end of the rooms, we came to a small house.

We tentatively opened the door, and found the house deserted (or at least visibly so, and nobody came to the door to see who was there). There were stairs leading down to what I assumed was a basement right in front of us, a living room looking area to our left, and a hallway to our right. It seemed like an odd way to set up a house, but again, lots of places were quite queer (in both senses of the term).

Anyway, we entered the living room. There was a table with chairs, bookshelves with books on them - “How to Cook Snails, Snail Basics, Meals with Snails?” -, and an armchair in front of a fireplace, fire included, which seemed like a fire hazard, but whatever. We didn’t find anyone, so we went through the door leading out of the room (not the one we entered).

We were in a kitchen, which seemed normal, except the stove didn’t work, there was white fur in the sink, and a pie on the counter. There was a faint smell of pie crust and cinnamon in the air, and I took a slice for later, in case I might want it (hey, I’m a thief, what would you expect, perfect morals?). We went back to the first room, and entered the hall.

There were three doors, two of which were bedrooms. We decided not to explore them, though one looked more like a child’s bedroom and one like an adult’s. The third was locked, however, and had a sign that read, ‘Room under Renovations’. Because there was no more of the house to explore, we went down the stairs to the basement.

There wasn’t really an actual basement, as far as we could tell. It was a long hallway, which, after walking the entirety of, showed us a doorway, similar to the one at the entrance, which we went through, as we didn’t want to walk back. We found ourselves in some kind of snowy, forest-y area, though, when we looked up to the sky, we could faintly see a cavern roof.

I’ll spare you the details, but basically, we went through this region, a very wet, cave-like region, and a very hot area. In the hot area, we came across a laboratory, which we chose to go into. It had a large video screen, seemingly inactive, though I couldn’t tell its use. As we continued walking through the building, we saw a cluttered desk, a bag of dog food(?), and a dark hole in the wall. When we got to the hole, the door to a bathroom hitherto unseen opened, and a tall lizard woman (?) came out. She looked quite surprised to see us, but hurried over nonetheless.

“More humans? This is quite unusual… umm… hello? Who are you?” she asked hesitantly.

“I am Alushtas, and I am not a human… which I only tell you because I don’t know why. I am an elf, This is Robin, he’s a human, and Thuzhal, whose race I never actually found out, I think,” I responded.

“And I would prefer to keep it that way,” Thuzhal said, smiling and extending his hand toward the person. “And you are…?”

“Oh!” She blushed furiously. “M-my name is A-alphys, and I’m the-the royal scientist for King Asgore.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Do you guys have any, you know…, magic?” I asked Alphys. We seemed to do a lot of questioning in these worlds, and not much else.

“K-kinda, we have magical a-attacks and the like, and fire magic, and probably other kinds.”

“Oh.” I must’ve looked really sad, because she immediately responded with, “B-but that’s okay! Here, I can improve your phones! You… don’t… have phones? Um, I can get you phones!”

She rushed upstairs up an escalator, then quickly came down another closer to the entrance. She was holding three small objects, which I assumed was a phone, and hoped her word for phone meant the same thing it meant for me, because it could be useful. It seemed that way, so yay.

“Here! I have a phone for each of you! Y-yes, I had them l-laying around… anyway, they can text, access the internet wherever, access special Dimensional Boxes, defuse bombs, and activate a jetpack! Here, t-take them!”

We each took a phone, and I immediately checked out the Dimensional Boxes. They each had space for 8 items, seemingly no matter the size, which didn’t make sense, but whatever. There were 3 boxes, which was nice, so I didn’t have to worry about 24 items taking up space in my Bag of Holding.

“Sweet, thank you!” I said, and she blushed again. “Oh, don’t worry, I just like helping people! S-speaking of which, there was this human that came through a bit ago. Have y-you seen them? I think Toriel is coming after them, and I’m a b-bit worried.”

Thuzhal and I exchanged looks as Robin looked between us. “No, we haven’t seen anybody except a couple dudes back at that purple place,” I told her, and her eyes widened.

“O-oh! You n-need to go… I’m s-sorry I can’t help more! Now, g-get out of here!”

She pushed us out of a back door, while I protested and tried to ask her about dimensional travelling. She didn’t listen to me, and locked the door after us.

“Well, now what? Do we go after the human? Do we go see the king? Do we leave? What do you dudes think?” I asked, looking at Robin and Thuzhal, whose backs were to the lab.

“I think I can help!” a cheery voice said from behind. I whirled around, dagger forming in my hand. A little yellow flower had popped up from the ground, and it had a face which was smiling at us.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thuzhal asked, suspicious of the small being.

“I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower! You were just talking to that overgrown lizard, huh? Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” the golden flower told us.

“Um, she seemed nice, while you were insulting her. Not really the way to play the ‘nice guy’ card,” Robin interjected.

Flowey gave a wide smile, and said, “Oh, sorry. We all insult her, ‘cause she’s senile and ignorant of the world. Even nice old King Asgore cracks jokes about her!”

By this point, I was very unsettled, but decided to humor Flowey. “So, you said you can help us. How?”

“Easy! The rules down here are simple. You k i l l, o r y o u b e k i l l e d.” As he spoke, his face grew ugly, into a mixture of a smile and a look of utter hatred. He sent little white bullets at us, which we tried to dodge, but some still hit us. They really hurt, and it felt like my life force itself was being sapped. I swung my dagger at him, but he popped back into the ground and back up a bit further on.

“Hope you guys have fun! See ya later!” he said, smiling, and vanished into the ground.

“That… was horrible,” I said, and both of my companions nodded.

“We should leave and never return.” Again, they nodded.

I pulled out the staff from my Bag, held it out, and we did our thing. However, as we began to flicker out of the strange, underground world, none of us noticed the edge of a flower root curling around the base of the staff.

From there, we continued on our way, oblivious to our nefarious passenger. After that moment, I’m not sure where exactly he went, so let’s ignore him for now, eh?

We travelled more, were attacked, Thuzhal broke a leg, Robin scared a cat badly, almost starting an apocalypse… anyway! We picked up another passenger on another realm, though this one was like Thuzhal - a nice one, which would be invaluable later on!

The previous dimension wasn’t very exciting, and as such won’t be talked about. Only the finest highlights here! I remember something about big dogs, though, so that was nice. Anyway, back to the important one.

We arrived in some kind of stronghold. The room we were in was deserted, luckily, and there wasn’t a lot around. There were some unlocked cases that had ammo in it, which was nice, because my guns were running out of ammo. There were also a couple of… vending machines? Except, one of them dispensed different shields and healing items, and the other sold… ammo and grenades? What kind of world was this? There was some kind of human height machine, though we couldn’t ascertain its purpose. It was next to a small set of rickety stairs, which led up to the vending machines. A carpet led to the right, where a small building stood, and two entrances stood to each side of it. The building was more of a hut made of metal, and didn’t seem to serve any actual purpose.

Now that the description is out of the way - wait! To be clear, we were in a building, and the roof was not far from our heads, and pretty much everything was metal. It’s difficult to describe, as that’s not really my strong suit, but I do my best. I’m alluding to what this place ended up being, because it does exist on Earth to some extent, and so maybe you’ll figure it out. Think of it like a puzzle, or a mystery. If you fail, either you didn’t know the game (whoops, I said it was a game! There’s another hint!), or I’m terrible at explanations, or you didn’t know the specific place. Maybe you’ll realize later what I’m talking about. Maybe not. By this point, I’m not sure I really care. Anyway!

We walked through the door, and immediately were fired upon. There were bandits everywhere, and they were shooting at us. We ducked behind some metal thingys sticking up from the ground, which shouldn’t have stopped bullets, but the improbable had decided to visit us today.

“What kinda world is this, where we don’t even get to introduce ourselves before people hate us?” Robin shouted at me.

“I know, right? At least hate us for who we are, not just because we exist. However, the fact that we simply appeared in their encampment might have to do with it.” I replied, pulling out my assault rifle from my bag.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Thuzhal warned me, and I smirked at him.

“When have I ever done anything stupid?” I said, and peeked out from my hiding place. They just kept firing, not caring about hiding behind barriers (That was the word! I guess it isn’t perfect, but words never are). I was peeking through a small hole in the thing, and pushed the barrel of my gun through another hole in it. I aimed carefully, adjusted for the simple fact that my eye was further from the barrel than normal, and started firing. Some of them ducked behind cover, though some just stood around, and there was a big one with a body shield that didn’t need something so trivial as cover.

My bullets didn’t seem to be harming them, however. I pulled the still-warm muzzle of the rifle out of the barrier, and told my companions: “My bullets don’t seem to be harming them!”

“Well then, try something else! Something magicky!” Robin yelled at me over the loud clamor of the guns.

“We don’t know the rules of this place! It could go horribly, or not work, or work perfectly!” When I saw the look he was giving me, I conceded, “Of course, if they shoot us full of holes, it won’t matter whether or not we use magic. And, if it fails, maybe it’ll take them out, and not us!”

I pulled my bag of charms I had collected over in front of me, and sorted through them. I had one that summoned a lion, but there were a lot of guns, and I wasn’t sure any animal could survive long enough, plus I like animals. I found one that would explode, but I didn’t want to blow us up as well if I could avoid it. Finally, I found one that released gas that would immediately knock out anyone that inhaled, and worked through gas masks and stuff as well because magic. I readied it in my hand, glanced through the hole so I could aim, drew back my hand, and -

A humanoid figure quickly appeared at the entrance I had come through. They were slashing a sword through the air and pretty much staying in the same place, which seemed like a bad idea considering there were a lot of dudes with long range weapons. The bandits started shooting at this new and very much visible opponent, and bullets ripped through them. They didn’t flinch, and kept swinging their sword randomly, until they flickered, and disappeared. At the same time, a sword materialized in the back of the big, heavy dude with the shield, coming straight through his heart and out of the shield.

As the shield dude toppled to the floor, a person flickered into view. They looked the same as the one that used to be in the doorway, and I later realized it was a hologram, used as a deception for the actual fighter. The bandits looked toward them, confused, and the figure regarded them, then spoke:

“How are you doing? I need to kill you right now. It’s not personal.”

They suddenly flashed into action, a gun appearing in their hand. They jumped toward me with inhuman strength, turned toward the bandits, and started shooting at them. Their bullets were much more effective than mine, and quickly dispatched the bandits. One of the bandits managed to hit them, but the bullet hit a blue field that… just showed up? Like, there was nothing, then just as the bullet hit what was previously invisible, it flashed light blue.

“Um, hello? Thank you for saving us. Who are you?” I asked once all of the bandits were dead.

“My name is Zer0. I am searching for the Vault. And now, who are you?” said our mysterious savior.

“Well, I am Alushtas, this is Robin, and here is Thuzhal. We are trying to find our way back home, but so far ‘here’ doesn’t seem to help.”

“You need to find your. Way home? Might I be able. To help you in this?”

“Your words sound jilted and strange. Does that have a reason? I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I want to know,” I said, to which Zer0 started moving, agitated.

I should probably explain. Zer0 didn’t really appear human, but perhaps like a human in a suit. The suit was blue and black, with a belt, and down the legs there was a bag for holding, probably, ammo, and something was strapped to the calf, with a brace, or pad, or something on it. They had a smooth faceplate, and the head overall looked like mostly glass and metal. On their elbows, they had some kind of a spike, and they had 4 fingers (Eh, by this point it’s pretty obvious I’m bad with description. Go look up Zer0 using that computer or phone you’re using. From Borderlands 2). On their face played emotes, in this case a question mark.

“I can only speak. In haiku, I am not sure why. Part of my being?”

“Anyway, you said you might be able to help us? What do you mean?”

“There are things out there. That you will need help killing. I’m bored, something new.”

“Um, okay… we won’t be staying here unless you guys have inter-dimensional travel… are you sure?”

“Yes, I am quite sure. I thought it over quickly. I don’t want to stay.

“The search for the vaults. Is fruitless, and as such I. Shall move on elsewhere,” he finished, in his strange, haiku way.

“Are you sure? I think I’ve played this game, and you end up finding the vault.”

“Fine, I just want to. Avoid this fate, which I have en-. -dured too much before.

“This game has three modes. Regular, true, ultimate. I’ve done them too much.

“I am bored of it. The same thing over again. Won’t continue this.

“I will go with you. Help where I can with my skills. Have new adventure.”

I smiled at them, and replied, “That sounds good. We might even be able to help fix that haiku voice, and let you speak as you want. Anyway, I guess... you’ll be joining us? That sounds... good… Oh! Though it isn’t permanent, I have a charm that might help you communicate for a bit… “ I rifled through my bag, and withdrew a specific charm. “Here you go!” I said, as I handed it to them.

It seemed to kinda soak into their hand, and their faceplate displayed an exclamation mark.

“Ah! What… happened? That was weird. I can speak… normally now? Now that I can talk normally, I can explain myself. I have destroyed BNK3R, killed the Warrior, and taken Handsome Jack off the face of Pandora way too much. I am as powerful as I will get, and killing bandits only gets old. I want something new, not involving Vaults or psychopaths. This seems worthy.”

“Okay… then… I suppose we might as well go? Not much else to do here, from what you said.”

“Yes, let’s.”

We did our thing with the staff, and left what Zer0 later told me was called Bloodshot Stronghold. What a place.

From there, we continued our journey, and, while each of these dimensions is important, it must be annoying to read, like “oh come on! Either say all of them or write barely anything!” Eh, whatever, I’m writing it how I want.

#Dee's story #Alushtas #Here #have my story #all of what i have #Dimensions and Dragons

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morwensteelsheen · 3 years

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i woke up this morning like “i want to write a story justifying why éowyn would have dropped her virginity like a hot potato” and anyways 4,000 words later i am Not At That yet but i am getting a better sense for what i think her life would’ve been like. it’s below the cut in its unproofread state lol also a brief reference to what faramir was up to circa TA3011 because i can’t help myself

Until her twelfth birthday, Éowyn had never thought of herself as particularly more of a girl than a boy. She was addressed as a (young) lady when she wasn’t being addressed by her kin, and had certainly been forced into dresses and skirts — though this came perhaps a little later than it should have, if the judgemental looks from the various women of the court were anything to go by; but outside of those instances, there really hadn’t been much to differentiate her from her elder brother. She had learned to use a sword just as he had, she had been taught (with limited success) to speak several politically-important languages, and had been given as free a rein on Meduseld and Edoras as he had at her age. Those years, she would later realise, had been some of the easiest and most contented of her life, even if the dark cloud of their parents’ passings ever hung over her.

On her twelfth birthday, in a firestorm of misfortune, everything had changed. First, and entirely by coincidence, Éomer had received his first posting, in Captain Grimbold’s éored stationed in the Wold. For Éomer, it was nothing but excitement — at long last he would be able to take off out into the world just like Théodred and would finally get to define himself as a warrior and as a man. That he would be going quite far away from home only heightened the excitement. For Éowyn, who had always been closesr to her brother than anyone else, it was the end of an era, though in exactly how many ways she had not, in the moment, fully known.

Second, she had her first blood. It was not something anybody had warned her about and, in that manner which precocious children are wont to take up, she attempted to solve the problem without knowing quite what the problem was. Hiding in her chambers, hands and knees shaking somewhat at the sight of unexpected blood, she had changed into something thicker (and darker in colour), and bundled the soiled garments up in a spare bedsheet. What little she knew of such matters told her that to be caught bleeding must be a sign of some personal failing, and so must be handled in the utmost secrecy.

There was, she knew, a small fire burning in the western gardens that morning to clear fallen foliage from the previous week’s thunderstorms. With luck and a little careful manoeuvring, she imagined she would be able to sneak her secret bundle into the flames without arousing any suspicions.

Creeping through the halls of Meduseld (mercifully quiet owing to the ceremonial changing of the guard happening later that day), Éowyn had accidentally stumbled upon the third thing that would change her life forever.

Even to her young mind, he immediately seemed a man of contradiction. Undeniably young, but somehow carrying himself with the comportment of a man several decades older; the dark hair and shorter stature of a Dunlander, but the presence and language of a man of the Mark. At first, he had not noticed her — he was so diligently listening to the King that it seemed to her he might not have noticed if an entire éored had passed him by. But when, failing to mask herself fully behind a passing attendant, Éowyn had been spotted by her uncle, the man’s attention had fallen to her entirely.

He was impeccably behaved, granting her the courtesy of a deep bow — despite few ever humbling themselves before such a young girl — and spoke to her levelly (not, to her ears, taking notice of her youth). In the practice yard and on horseback, Éowyn was accustomed to being spoken to with little regard for her age, but rarely was such deference extended into the stricter social edifices of Meduseld.

By any stretch of the imagination, it should have tickled her pride to be spoken to as an equal, it had, of course, been something she had longed for ever since she had first mastered stringing words together into sentences. Something, however, unsettled her about the entire interaction, raising hairs on the back of her neck and forcing her shoulders back into a defensive posture. She told herself that it was a natural consequence of having been effectively caught attempting to bury evidence of a misdeed, and that had she not first met him while she was clutching a bedsheet hiding a bloodied shift, she might have had an entirely different opinion of him.

After she was dismissed and scampered out into the gardens, she was immediately caught by Ceolwenne, the daughter of one of the Lords of the Eastfold who had recently arrived at Edoras to be presented at court. Ceolwenne, who Éowyn had, until that moment, had very little time for, had taken one look at the bundled sheets and Éowyn’s ghost-white face and immediately pulled her into a hug. Together, they had thrown the bundle into the garden fire, and Ceolwenne had, in perhaps flightier language than Éowyn might have preferred, explained what that blood had meant and exactly what she should do to prepare herself in the future.

It should have been a tremendous relief to her to discover that it was not a sign of moral failure and to find that it was something that women could speak to other women about in relatively frank terms. Instead, and for reasons then entirely unexplainable to her, it filled her with a deep, abiding sense of dread.

Thereafter, the changes in her life came on gradually, some of them so slowly that she hardly noticed they had happened at all. The years passed and she grew up. At least two or three times a year, she bled, but now she knew what to expect (though that did not mean she found it any less unsettling). Éomer and Théodred were away for greater and greater stretches of time, and the man, who she now knew as Gríma, took on a greater and greater role in the Golden Hall.

At first, Éowyn had imagined that the duties bestowed upon her were duties given to account for Théodred’s absence — welcoming local and foreign dignitaries, maintaining the daily running of the household, and seeing to the needs of the King. But with these duties came certain infringements on the life she had come to enjoy. Gone were the comfortable linen dresses and loose hair of her childhood, replaced by elegant velvet gowns and coiled, braided updos; no longer could she practice for hours on end in the practice and tilt yards, not when, as Gríma took care to remind her, the household could not cope without a strong commander at its helm.

With the finer gowns and the increased hours spent indoors came a change in how people spoke to and looked at her. After years of hoping to be treated as an adult, she began to learn that what she had hoped for was to be treated as an adult man, not an adult woman. Adult men could sit in counsel with her King-uncle, and could drink until late at night and argue about the mechanics of war and glory. Adult women could not.

It was as much a sign of her becoming aware of herself as it was a sign that she was physically changing. Slowly, so slowly that she hardly noticed it if she didn’t think about it, her hips swelled and her breasts became heavier and more pronounced. Her face slimmed, her lashes lengthened and darkened, and hair grew on parts of her body that she had not expected it to grow. All of these things seemed to her to be things of little note — except, perhaps, as an occasional nuisance when gowns that had previously fitted her no longer did — but seemed of great consequence to the people around her.

The whispers of the women and men at court wriggled their way into her subconscious. Lascivious tales of noble women undone by pregnancies out of wedlock, peasant women trapped by Dunlenders and subjected to unimaginable acts of violence, and women who took so happily to the chore of sex that they freely took multiple partners — to the chagrin of the court. Without expecting it or inviting it, Éowyn soon learned that the mantle of womanhood that she was now inheriting was a heavy and burdensome load.

She was fourteen the first time she had recognised a man staring at her chest. He was a minor sergeant from just outside Aldburg, twenty-two years old, fairly handsome for so short a man, and loud-spoken with a riotous laugh. They had been standing opposite one another in conversation at the outlying perimeters of a celebratory dance when she had followed the line of his sight. When he realised she was aware of where his attention was turned to, he had smirked at her, then disappeared off to find the hand of another young girl for the next dance. Beside her, one of the fluttering twits who hovered around the court in search of a high-born husband leaned in to her and giggled, telling her in no uncertain terms that she should be honoured by the man’s interest in her body. She did try her best to be honoured, but the only emotion she could conjure within her was a vague sense of fury.

After that, she had taken to finishing her domestic duties as hastily as she could so she could slip out of her gowns and exhaust herself in the practice yard. The first few times she had done so, she had moved so speedily through her duties she began to trip up and make careless mistakes, which had resulted in Gríma keeping an ever-closer eye on her work. When mistakes were inevitably discovered, she found herself forced back into gowns for longer and longer periods of time, and being forced back into gowns meant being forced back under the sometimes-lewd gaze of men. These failures, she was told, were an abdication of her womanly duty to maintain a neat household. Thus, womanhood became inextricably bound up with restrictions on her liberty and the unsettling and unwelcomed notice of men.

Ceolwenne married Elfhelm on a cool spring day, a humble but pretty affair. They went away for a few short weeks, and when they returned, she had a wealth of stories to whisper to Éowyn. Ceolwenne, who had been far better prepared for a woman’s life than had Éowyn, seemed to have entered her marriage with a plethora of insecurities and expectations — most of which had turned out to be wrong. Even still, it was the first time Éowyn had heard that sex could be anything other than a wearisome duty to be endured.

When she was sixteen, Théodred’s èored briefly returned to Edoras for some ceremonial formalities. A young rider, at most three or four years her senior, watched her in the practice ring as she proved to her cousin all that she had learned in his absence. Théodred, with a small smirk, departed after just two rounds, leaving her alone with the man. He introduced himself as Alaric, a local boy under Théodred’s command. He was quick-witted and praised her combat skills, and she had been happy to have someone who wasn’t her kin speak admiringly of her ability to fight. He’d told her he had little experience with cleaning up in the royal stables, and that he needed advice on how to properly stack the saddles so as to avoid her cousin’s ire.

Because she was sixteen, and because she had so rarely been around men who didn’t see her desire to fight as a threat to their manhood, she convinced herself she believed that he needed help, and followed. Inside the stables, she made a valiant attempt at showing him the ropes, until he’d pinned her to the wall and kissed her breathless.

It was sloppy, bordering on bad (though then she had no basis on which to judge the quality of a kiss), and it surprised her. But he didn’t seem to mind that he was kissing somebody in breeches who reeked of horse, so she kissed him back until a stable boy interrupted them. When Théodred’s men left at the end of the week, she didn’t watch them leave, and she never again asked after him, though for many years afterwards she often thought of that day in the stables.

A few months later, her marriageability was first spoken of. Lord Boromir of Gondor, a steadfast and favourite friend of Théodred’s had momentarily passed through Edoras on an unofficial diplomatic errand. (After he had left, her uncle had made it clear that he thought Boromir had been sent by his supercilious father to sniff out weaknesses in the Mark.) Lord Boromir had very proudly admitted that he expected that his younger brother, a captain fighting at the far eastern reaches of Gondor, would soon announce his betrothal to the eldest daughter of some lord from the south of the kingdom. It was, he said, a remarkably politically-savvy match, certain to bring the more capricious southern fiefdoms back into line.

Gríma, invited but not desired at that dinner, had, as was his way in those days, managed to redirect the conversation towards the theory of marriage as a political tool, and how a more stringent application of that theory in Rohan (as was seen in Gondor) might come to the kingdom’s benefit. He had implied, though had stared her down while he spoke, that unwed women kin of the King ought to make themselves more available to men of good sense.

Éowyn, who had never before given much thought to marriage, except in passing recognition to the fact that she would likely one day have to marry, blanched at the notion that any future marriages of hers would be discussed so openly. But then it occurred to her, with the swiftness of a winter gale blustering through an open door, that she was, in fact, of a perfectly reasonable age to be thinking of marriage.

In a move that had endeared him to her immensely, Lord Boromir had pointed out that while he referred to his brother as “younger,” he was in fact eight and twenty years old, and his apparent intended was only a few years younger than that, and both had come about the arrangement after many years of unattached life in adulthood.

The door, however, had been kicked open, and the monster that dwelt within could not be so easily returned to its enclosure.

It seemed to her the most frustrating conversation in her life in the subsequent two years, and it seemed to her to occur at two levels. The more overt level was that of the occasional discussion of marriage candidates’ suitability. Men would come, from time to time, to seek out the hand of Lady Éowyn, and Lady Éowyn would, with ruthless efficiency, dismiss them. In this, she had an entirely unexpected ally in Gríma, who seemed to find fault in all of her suitors as quickly as she did, and was far less reserved in his dismissals.

The more subtle level was that of discussions of what would be expected of her after marriage. At first, the language had been amorphous: Théodred had been slow to marry, Éomer was far too pleased with his status as the effective “spare”, what would become of the line of Eorl? Who, asked those who dared ask aloud, would ensure the birth of an heir? In those years, Gríma became a master manipulator of conversations. Where compliments paid to Éowyn had once concerned her ability to uphold her duties, or her voice, or her ability to dance, soon they focussed on her youth, her femininity, and, for the bolder flatterers, the curve of her hips.

She reached an age where she took to working with the elder women of the court on the various tapestries and blankets and carpets that they wrought on their looms. Then, she learned that sex, despite for so many of them being a frustrating burden at worst and a bore at best, was a regular topic of conversation. In their conversations, she came to learn much she hadn’t before had a way to learn. There was a moment, she learned, in the midst of sex where people reached what the women referred to as a “crisis.” For men, this crisis was not only common, but nigh on mandatory, the ultimate and only goal of sex. For women, this crisis was uncommon, but certainly not unheard of, though often stumbled upon quite by accident. Despite their language, all of the women seemed to speak fondly of this crisis, as if it was something to be actively sought after. Having no experience of her own against which to measure her opinions, Éowyn merely accepted that this was the way things were, and that, even if it was a happy one, a crisis sounded like a level of instability she would rather not invite into her life.

Meanwhile, her uncle seemed to age ten years for every one that passed. Her duties became more numerous and more laborious. Stubbornly committed to her precious few minutes of freedom a day, she fought hard to preserve her few hours of swordplay a week, even if it came at the cost of sleep or eating. It was to her benefit and detriment that she placed such a high premium on that time; benefit, in that she never felt as if she couldn’t defend herself from physical harm if needs must, detriment in that it became Gríma’s easiest way to wrest control over her. She had to guard it jealously, had to take to keeping a dulled blade beneath her bed for the days in which she found all the practice blades mysteriously locked away, and had to implicitly enlist the help of the servants to cover her tracks.

More men came seeking her affection, and she sent them all away. Some men, the younger ones, the maverick officers, didn’t come looking for her hand in marriage, but to take their chances at cracking the Lady of Rohan’s stony exterior. It became a game of sorts amongst men in the know, winning her attention was a warrior’s challenge in its own right, akin to slaying a first — or tenth — orc. Whether she was oblivious to it or intensely obstinate the men never figured out, but either way, none ever had any success.

What to them was a game became a struggle for life and death for her. For each man that flirted with her or sent tokens of affection, Gríma tightened his grip further and further. Her uncle had been almost entirely unmanned, his thoughts so consumed by the looming conflict that the social troubles of his youngest ward bled into the background noise.

Gríma touched her for the first time a little while after her seventeenth birthday. It was a brisk spring morning, and she was scheduled to meet a minor lordling from the Gondorian province of Anórien. She had gone out to the veranda without a mantle and, after a single shiver, Gríma had disappeared back into the hall, only to return with a thin, dark cloak. Though she was loath to accept any gestures from him, she was already surrounded by far too many dignitaries of the Mark who could not be trusted with any sign of defiance from the representatives of the House of Eorl. So, she had tipped her head in assent when Gríma presented her with the mantle, and held her hair back as he stood before her and secured it around her through. To onlookers, it would have seemed as if the fastener on the cloak was particularly fussy, because it took him several long seconds to finally catch it through. To Éowyn, the seconds stretched like hours as Gríma brushed long, moist fingers across the hollow of her throat, over and over and over until finally she’d stiffened, and he seemed to be broken from his trance.

A month passed before he touched her again, and then it was only a hand against the small of her back as he passed her in the council room.

A few weeks after that, it was his fingers wrapping around her arm to escort her away from her exhausted King.

Orcs pushed further into Rohan, a worrying puzzle that panicked all those in Edoras who had any business of knowing. Her cousin spent more and more time riding between his detachment and Meduseld, and each time she saw him he seemed tauter, more bereft of good humour, and, unsurprisingly if frustratingly, less able to listen to her worries. Through no fault of his own, he could hardly notice that it was not just his father whose constitution was bowing under the burden of conflict, and failed entirely to notice that Éowyn had grown distant and jumped every time someone entered the room without fair warning.

Her change in mood did not go unnoticed by Gríma, who quickly used it to drive a wedge between her and her uncle. Théoden, who had also become increasingly paranoid, seemed convinced that his line would die out. It took some careful manoeuvring from Gríma, but in time her uncle believed that it was Éowyn’s reserved personality that most threatened the House of Eorl. She was instructed, in no uncertain terms, to have a more open temperament and to show more warmth to their guests and allies.

It went against every defence she had learned. If she were to be more open and inviting towards their guests (who were all, invariably, men) then she would be indirectly inviting Gríma’s jealousy. She had always tried to deny that that is what it came down to — he was twenty-one years her senior, had known her since she was barely into girlhood, it all seemed incomprehensible to her — but at this earliest of breaking points, it was almost impossible to deny.

For three years, there was a stalemate of sorts. It was not a receding of hostilities, so to speak, but there were no escalations either. She found that if she didn’t put up any resistance when his fingers slipped under the hem of her sleeves or he stopped so close to her side she could feel his breath on her face, then she wouldn’t lose time in the practice ring, and wouldn’t be cornered into emotionally devastating arguments with her uncle and liege-lord.

Men continued to call, though there were fewer as the conflict worsened at the borders of the Riddermark. A daughter of a lord of the Westfold came to Edoras, Edith was her name. She was beautiful and self-possessed, she laughed loudly and drank heartily, and charmed the entire court within hours of her arrival. She took many bewitched men to her bed without a hint of shame, and in so doing left no room for anyone to criticise her. Better to die of good sex out of wedlock, she told Éowyn, than of bad sex in wedlock.

Théoden’s condition worsened, and Gríma cast a wider and wider shadow across Meduseld. Éomer was made third Marshal of the Mark, and Théodred began to spend more time in Edoras. The condition in the Westfold became bleaker with each passing week, the Dunlendings now threatened harm greater than they had ever been empowered to do before.

&c. &c. &c.

#e writes #I want to get more into her moral Panic about it but I felt like I needed to set it up quite heavily #I don’t even know if this makes sense but #I feel very strongly about this

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