#i burn part five

[lambtotheslaughterr]

I Burn: Part Five

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FOUR | MASTERLIST | PART SIX

            For the last week you have felt more eyes on you than you would like. And none of them were eyes you wanted. The most daunting ones though were Dr. Mooney’s. He was disappointed in you. He didn’t need to say it, you felt it every time he looked at you. You had let him down. And you hated yourself for it. Hated Rafe even more because of it. You wish Rafe had never come here. It was all his fault, taking advantage of you. But a shameless part of you still wanted him. You worried you wouldn’t be satisfied until you finally did.

            Dr. Mooney didn’t address the ‘incident’ until the following morning after catching you two in the quiet room. You & Rafe were removed from each other effectively & placed into your rooms. Doors locked. That rarely happened. But of course, it would happen to you.

            The next morning you were to see Dr. Mooney, your routine be damned. Walking to his office that morning was excruciating. The longest walk of shame you had ever done. And once inside his office, you felt suffocated by the tension.

            Unlike most times when you entered his office, Dr. Mooney did not greet you with a smile. He was already sitting in his chair across from the couch, one leg propped over the other & his notepad balanced on his knee. You stiffly moved towards the couch.

            You wetted your lips, chewing your lower lip as you awaited his scolding.

            “_____.” It was the first time he had said your name & it didn’t make you flutter. Instead, you wished you could sink into the couch & disappear from sight. You felt like a child about to get put into time out. That was essentially what happened.

            “I want to understand your thoughts about last night.” Dr. Mooney eyed you from above his glasses, his brows crinkled.

            There had been no thoughts. You had been influenced, manipulated, taken advantage of. And you said as such. But Dr. Mooney didn’t accept your answer.

            “You are a grown woman. Placing blame entirely on Rafe is childish, is it not?” His rebuttal hurt. He had always been on your side; now it felt like he was admonishing you like you were no better than the worst.

            “I went into that room alone, Dr. Mooney. I didn’t ask him to follow me.”

            “Yes, free-will is a great thing. Something we want to empower our patients here with. Yet, you gave in to your addiction. You did not practice restraint.” He pressed his lips together as he stared hard at you.

            You let out a shaky breath, “I tried…”

            He frowned then, nodding once. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.”

            “We didn’t even have sex. You made sure of that.” You battled though your voice was small.

            “And I’m glad I did. You were doing so well, _____. It truly disappoints me that I must make a call to your parents about this.”

            “No!” You shot forward at the mention of your parents, “Please Dr. Mooney, don’t. You can’t!”

            “I can & I must. It’s our policy that when an incident happens with our patients regarding their recovery process that we inform the parents or guardians. No exceptions.” Dr. Mooney’s voice hardened, having grown quite unimpressed with you.

            “Please, please! If you tell them I’ll never get out of here! You heard my dad!” You begged, “He even thinks I’m sleeping with you! He thinks the absolute worst of me. Please, Dr. Mooney. It won’t ever happen again.”

            Dr. Mooney’s eyes softened momentarily as he listened to your pleas, but much to your dismay, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, _____, but it’s policy. And I can’t excuse what you got up to last night. Perhaps you should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before you made the decision to follow through on them.”

            Tears slipped down your cheeks. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly. You imagined your parents getting the call, learning the news. They left here hearing how well you were doing, an ‘excellent example’ Dr. Mooney had told them about your progress. Now, they would only be let down. Again.

            You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes harshly as a simmering rage settled within you.

            “You’re punishing me.” You whispered, not looking at him.

            Dr. Mooney clicked his tongue, “I wish you didn’t view it that way.”

            You raised your eyes to glare at him, “You never wanted to help me.”

            He stuffed his notepad between his thigh & the arm of the chair, leaning forward to stare at you, “You know that’s not true.”

            “Do I?” You questioned, “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

            “And I understand that it doesn’t.” He responded, “But I also thought you understood responsibility. It appears we still have much to work on.”

            You shook your head in disagreement, glancing at the ground once more, unable to handle the look in his eyes as he looked at you.

            “I’m never getting out of here.” You spoke to no one.

            Dr. Mooney said nothing.

            And so for the next week your sessions with Dr. Mooney were longer, though your conversations were brief. You didn’t trust him. You couldn’t. He had informed you in your second session with him following the incident that he did indeed call your parents. But you had not heard from them. You surmised you likely wouldn’t. You pictured your father not allowing your mother to call, to punish you further.

            More so, group sessions were sporadic. Rafe & you had strict rules to not be allowed in the same room for at least a week, so you two took turns attending group therapy, & even got food during breakfast, lunch, & dinner at separate times. You hadn’t seen him all week, not even a peek. Dr. Mooney was taking your separation from each other seriously. So, you were watched like a hawk. Nurse Carney was with you most, if not all, the time. If the facility hadn’t felt like a prison before it sure did now.

            But it was Friday now. The weekend was starting. And as much as you still blamed Rafe for what happened, you still longed to see him. At night, you imagined his face, his touch, his voice. It made you feel less alone, & it brought you comfort knowing that he was likely feeling the same you were. You two were opposing forces who couldn’t help but be drawn to each other. Why were you two being punished for that?

            The only remotely ‘good’ thing to come out of this separation & prison treatment was that you hadn’t masturbated. You didn’t even have the urge. You were too angry to feel the burn. Dr. Mooney had said it was a good thing that you weren’t acting on your desires, but that it was unfortunate that it was due to negative feelings towards him & the recovery process. But restraint is restraint, he had said. It was the first time you imagined punching him. Desirable thoughts about Dr. Mooney had died quickly.

            At this moment, you were dressed comfortably in a pair of shorts & a tank top. It was all your wardrobe really consisted of during your stay here. Your out & about clothes were unfortunately saved for community service days. Which was tomorrow. You wondered if Dr. Mooney would allow you out with your fellow patients, if he would let Rafe go. After all, it had been a week since you saw him, & there was no attempt to try to see him. Seeing him again would be your reward.

            You reached Dr. Mooney’s office. The door was closed but you heard muffled voices inside. You couldn’t make out any words but there was a small laugh. It was a woman’s. You felt your skin burning hot, annoyed that whoever was inside was having a positive interaction with Dr. Mooney. That used to be you.

            Knocking on the door, you didn’t care if you interrupted. There was the sound of footfalls before the door swung open. Dr. Mooney was dressed casually like he usually did on Friday’s before the weekend. And just behind him you saw Nurse Carney standing by his desk.

            “_____ come in.” You kept your arms crossed in front of yourself as you stepped inside, not bothering to hide how you glanced between the two providers.

            “Kiera, we’ll finish this later.”

            She smiled politely at that, “Of course, Doctor.” She met your eyes in kind & nodded before leaving the two of you.

            Dr. Mooney gestured to the couch & you dropped a knee onto it as he got situated in his chair, “My apologies, _____. I lost track of time.”

            “What were you two talking about?” You knew you had no place to insert yourself in whatever private conversation they were having but you didn’t care.

            “Tomorrow’s community service. I’m going to join in on this one.” The information surprised you. Dr. Mooney never came out on community service days. You had an inkling it was because of you & Rafe. But that meant that you two would indeed be together tomorrow.

            “You are?”

            “Mhmm.” He gave a closed lip grin, “My wife is going out of town & I figured it’d be a good opportunity to see my patients out in the real world. Take notes about their progress.”

            You said nothing but shifted to get more comfortable.

            “Okay, so.” He raised his hands lightly before bringing them back down to rest on his thighs, “How are you feeling?”

            You shrugged, fingering the hem of your shorts, “Fine.”

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name concerningly, “You need to talk to me. I understand that you feel like you were being punished for this last week, but I really implore you to understand it’s for your well-being. You want to get better, don’t you?”

            What a stupid fucking question. You nodded silently.

            “The separation ends tomorrow. How are you feeling about that?”

            Ecstatic. But you wouldn’t say so. You worried if you showed too much excitement towards it that he would extend the separation. “I’m just glad I won’t be treated like a prisoner anymore.”

            “You’re not a prisoner. But you are under my care here. And I only separated the two of you to protect you.” Dr. Mooney frowned, “One day you’ll see that.”

            “So, if Rafe & I even talk to each other tomorrow, we won’t get in trouble for that?” It wasn’t a silly question. You really needed to know how close you could be with him without getting in trouble for it.

            “Of course not, _____. I am not to speak with you about other patient’s progress, but the separation was for you as much as it was for Rafe. You two are in very fragile, vulnerable stages of the recovery process. It’s typical for patients to find comfort or connection in one another, but physical comfort, physical connection is prohibited. Should you two succeed in your stay here & leave the facility, what transpires between the two of you is between the two of you, but our goal here is to have a healthy relationship. And in your case, a healthy relationship with a man is essential.”

            “Is Rafe not healthy for me?” You questioned.

            “Right now, no.” Dr. Mooney admitted, “And neither are you for him. You two tempt each other. You bring out each other’s recklessness. Recklessness for addicts is, as expected, always troublesome. I care about you, & Rafe, leaving here with the self-empowerment to recognize your respective addictive behaviors & the skills to navigate them in a safe, healthy manner.”

            You bit your lip, frowning. You hated that he was making sense. But you were still angry.

            “I’m sorry for saying you were punishing me. That you didn’t want to help me.”

            Dr. Mooney smiled softly, “I accept your apology. But I am here for you, _____. I only want what is best for you.”

            You nodded, “I know. I guess I just have a hard time believing that after everything.”

            “Recovery is a tough, tough process. A lot of animosity, blame on others, resentment, anger, deep regret—all of those things make recovery difficult. But I still believe in you.”

            For the first time in a week Dr. Mooney made your heart flutter with his praising words.

            “Thank you for saying that.”

            It was also the first time in a week that you smiled. Even if it was a small one.

            Saturday saw you getting excitedly dressed for community service day. Nurse Carney had informed all the patients that today’s outing would be a two hour long drive to the coast for beach clean-up. You groaned at the thought of cleaning up other people’s garbage, but when she had told others to wear beach wear, your disgust quickly transitioned to anticipation. After beach clean-up, patients would be allowed to actually enjoy the beach. A reward for all your hard word & dedication to the recovery process.

            So you changed into a navy blue one-piece suit then slipped into a pair of jeans & tugged on a lime green cropped hoodie. Since you were going to the beach, you wore a pair of your favorite sandals, though you knew the second you touched sand you’d be kicking them off. You couldn’t wait to feel the beach under your feet.

            In the lobby, you joined the others as Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney did a head count. You spotted Rafe along the furthest wall, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. He had yet to spot you. Glancing at Dr. Mooney briefly to see if he was curious as to what you were up to, you bravely began walking towards Rafe. But a figure stepped in front of you.

            “Sit with me?” It was Albert. His hair was tied into a bun, a few strands hanging loose to kiss his forehead. You stuttered at his sudden request. And before you could even respond, Albert tugged on your arm to lead you outside where the van waited. Guess your reunion with Rafe would have to wait until the beach.

            Inside the van, Albert gently pushed you back towards the furthest row before sitting beside you. Siena appeared behind him & sat on his other side. They traded looks that looked as if they were speaking to one another without words. You were about to ask them what the hell they were up to when Rafe appeared next. You let out a pleased exhale, but it was short-lived as he pointedly avoided looking in your direction.

            Rafe slid into the second row, sitting directly in front of you, & Renne sat beside him. Then Dr. Mooney got into the passenger seat while Nurse Carney took to the drivers seat. Most everyone was talking jovially about today’s outing, but your elation slowly rotted away as you stared at the back of Rafe’s head. There was palpable energy rolling off him. The whole of the van was filled with laughter, screeches of joy, but where he sat was a dark cloud, & that cloud was beginning to cast over you.

            You frowned to yourself. Something was wrong. Though you didn’t know Rafe well, he wasn’t the brooding type. Yet there he was slouched in his seat, staring straight ahead. You narrowed his eyes, willing him to feel the hole you were burning into the back of his head. But he never looked back. Not once.

            “You okay?” You inhaled sharply as Albert broke your focus.

            “Yeah, sure.” You forced a smile.

            But you weren’t. You couldn’t be. Not when Rafe wasn’t.

            The beach clean-up had been surprisingly a lot of fun. You contributed the fun of it to the sun & the feel of sand squished between your toes. Dr. Mooney & Nurse Carney kept a loose leash on all of you as you all traversed up & down the beach with stabbers & garbage bags. The clean-up itself lasted only a couple hours & then Nurse Carney called for everyone to join her & Dr. Mooney under a canopy they had set up for making lunch under.

            Lunch was styled like a sandwich buffet. Breads, cheeses, meats, veggies, condiments, the whole shebang. You made yourself a simple ham & cheese sandwich & accepted a salad bowl from Nurse Carney that she had made. Then the seven of you ate on towels nearby. You had planned on going to sit with Rafe, but Albert & Siena snatched you up yet again, dragging you over to sit with them.

            Though you were enjoying their sudden interest in you, you were mildly annoyed. You hadn’t been near Rafe in a week. All you wanted, more than anything, was just to at least eat with him. Dr. Mooney said it would be okay. And these two were preventing you from doing just that.

            But once you were done eating, you were determined to approach Rafe, to spend whatever time left you had on the beach to be near him. After finishing your food, you hurriedly carried your trash back to the canopy. Nurse Carney was gathering up the lunch items & placing them back into a small chest.

            “Thanks for lunch.” You told her.

            She grinned, her red hair glistening against the beach backdrop, “Of course, I hope it was decent enough.”

            You nodded then turned back around. Renee was down by the water in a pair of black shorts & a long sleeve. You rolled your eyes. Only she would be dressed in all black on a day out to the beach. Freak.

            To your left, you watched as Albert & Siena dressed down to their respective bathing suits. Albert wore multi-colored board shorts & Siena sported a coral pink tankini. Then you peered around for the object of your desire. A couple yards away, Rafe sat on a beached log. He wore a white tank top & navy blue board shorts. Even from your vantage point you could still sense the cloud hanging over him. And on a beautiful day like this, you were set on parting the cloud hanging over him.

            Removing your own hoodie, you placed on top of a nearby towel, followed by your jeans. Then you began walking towards him. It came naturally to you to walk with a little sass in your walk, it was how you often drew the male gaze to yourself, but as you grew closer to Rafe, he never once looked your eyes, even when you knew you were without a doubt in his peripheral. Once you were finally upon him, you gently kicked sand towards him.

            “Why the long face?” You teased, choosing to sit on your knees on the sand before him rather than joining him on the log.

            Rafe peered at you, his eyes squinting from the sun, “Did you need something?”

            His cold tone & choice of words shocked you. You frowned at him, “What’s wrong?”

            He chuckled darkly at your question but there was no amusement in it, “What do you want, _____?”

            Words evaded you. What was his fucking deal? You were so happy, so so happy to finally be able to talk to him. And this was how he spoke to you after a week of not seeing each other? You expected him to be happier. So, why wasn’t he?

            “I don’t know, I just…” His dark cloud was growing bigger. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

            You had just stood up & was about to walk away when a hand shot out & gripped your wrist, “Don’t leave.”

            This time he spoke softly. But you couldn’t deal with his bipolar attitude. It was ruining your beach day.

            You pulled your wrist from his grasp, not because you didn’t want him touching you—you did—but if Nurse Carney or, god forbid, Dr. Mooney saw, who knew what reparations may come your guys’ way.

            Rafe sighed heavily, “I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”

            You returned to your knees, nodding in understanding, “Same here. What’s wrong though?”

            Rafe shook his head, his tongue poking his lower lip out, “It’s fucking Dr. Mooney.”

            At the mention of his name, you glanced over your shoulder back towards the canopy. Nurse Carney was talking animatedly by Dr. Mooney’s side, but his eyes were watching the two of you. You looked away.

            “What happened?”

            He narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly contemplating whether or not he would tell you, “He doesn’t want me near you.”

            You shrugged, “That’s not true, Rafe. He just wants us to get better.”

            Rafe scoffed at that, “Is that what he told you?”

            “Well, yeah.” You brushed your hair out of your eyes as a light breeze picked up, “Isn’t that what he told you?”

            Rafe glared over your shoulder, no doubt aiming it towards the doctor in question. “No. It isn’t.”

            The look of malice on his face concerned you, “What did he say then?”

            “You wouldn’t believe me.”

            You rolled your eyes, “I’m the only one here who would believe you.”

            “You sure about that?” Rafe responded in short.

            You felt doubt swell in your heart. What could Dr. Mooney possibly have said to upset Rafe?

            “He wants you. He doesn’t care about you getting better. And he definitely doesn’t like how close we’ve become.”

            His words shocked you. Dr. Mooney?! You stared hard at Rafe, not finding his jest funny, “Bullshit. Why are you lying?”

            “See. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Rafe stood up, shaking his head, “Whatever. He’s obviously got you wrapped around his finger.”

            Scared that Rafe was going to leave you, you rushed forward, grabbing his wrist like he had yours. You didn’t care if Dr. Mooney saw, “No, wait. I’m sorry. I’ll listen.”

            Rafe stared down at you. He gently overturned his wrist, catching your hand in his, your fingers briefly tangling before he finally sat back down. You let go of his hand.

            “He really said that?” You questioned. You had a hard time believing it, honestly. Dr. Mooney had never shown any interest in you like that. And you believed him when he said he was determined to help you get better. More so, why would he admit that to a patient of his own, that he was essentially going to prevent you from leaving the facility? It didn’t make sense, but you weren’t going to express that.

            “He didn’t have to.” Rafe replied, his answer making you frown. “But I know him. Because I am him. He’s threatened by me.”

            “No, that’s not—”

            “Yes, _____. I see the way he watches you. Think about it. He knows you & your addiction better than anyone else, even yourself. He knows what to say, what to do to get you to listen to whatever he says. Even now, he hasn’t stopped looking at you once since you came over here.”

            But that was because of the two of you getting caught. Nothing more. However, you couldn’t deny the burning sensation igniting deep within yourself. Was it true? Was it really true that Dr. Mooney saw you as more than a patient? You were conflicted on how to feel about it. Part of you was pleased, but the other part, disappointed.

            “Something Dr. Mooney will never admit is that he’s as much of a man as any of us. He still has carnal wants. And he wants you.” Rafe told you, “And who wouldn’t. Look at you. You know what you do to men. Just because he’s your doctor doesn’t mean he doesn’t look at you like he wants a taste himself.”

            His words left you feeling unwell.

            “You should’ve seen the way he watched you when you got undressed just now. Probably wondering what else you have going on under there. I mean, he got a peek last week when he interrupted us. He knows you dressed down for me, not him, & it pisses him off. It pisses him off that you want someone other than him.”

            You shook your head, “No. We’re at the beach! I wore this for the beach…” But you could hear the doubt in your own argument.

            “You say that but we both know.” Rafe chided you, “And so does he. You’re caught in the middle, _____, don’t you see that? Being pulled between two men who want you.”

            You were getting too hot, too flustered. You felt dizzy & your stomach lurched. No. Dr. Mooney didn’t want you. He couldn’t. Rafe was just fucking with you again. He had to be. Dr. Mooney was a good man, a good doctor. He cared about you. Rafe didn’t.

            Angry, you stood up, glaring down at Rafe, “You’re lying. That’s what you do. You manipulate. Just like how you manipulated me in the quiet room.”

            Rafe laughed loudly at that, “I manipulated you? Or were you just desperate for someone to want you?”

            “Fuck you.” Your voice broke as tears pierced your vision.

            “Well, I would’ve if your precious doctor hadn’t stopped us.” Rafe stood with you, stepping close enough to touch but he didn’t, “You know what I’m talking about. You know when a man wants you. You’re really telling me you haven’t noticed?”

            Rafe’s words embedded themselves into your skin.

            Not Dr. Mooney. No.

            But you weren’t sure. Not anymore.

            Rafe sniffed, licking his lips as he stared down the beach, “He may say he cares about you, but he doesn’t. You’ll see for yourself. Just wait.”

            “You’re wrong.” Your voice shook.

            “Fine.” Rafe caught your chin, forcing you look up at him, “You say that now. But when you see what I’m talking about, don’t come running to me.”

            With that, Rafe left you where you stood. You kept your arms wrapped around yourself, uncomfortable. Today was supposed to be a good day. A beach day with Rafe. But now, you wished for nothing more than to be locked within the confines of your room.

            Storming towards the canopy, you ignored the concerned looks Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney were sending you way. Turning your back to them, you slipped back into your cropped hoodie & jeans.

            “_____? Are you alright?” Dr. Mooney asked from behind you.

            “Fine.” You feigned a smile, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

            “Are you sure you’re okay?” Dr. Mooney stood to your right. You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid you’d see what Rafe insisted was there.

            “Yes. I’ll be nearby.”

            Passing by him, you slipped your shades onto your face to hide the tears that threatened to fall. This beach day could go to hell for all you cared.

part five(:

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[justaz]

lol arthur realizes with the other knights after watching merlin flirt and being hit with a wave of deja vu: holy shit you asked me out

merlin and the rest of the knights around a campfire after leaving a village bc lancelot and leon somehow started a brawl in the tavern: ???

arthur points at merlin: after valiant! you asked me to buy you a drink! you were asking me out!

merlin is busy cooking dinner and confused out of his fucking mind: what???…..valiant….oh the knight with the snakes.

gwaine who was slightly tipsy now stone cold sober and sitting up straight against a tree: wait. explain. what do you mean merlin asked you out??

arthur snaps his fingers as he recalls the memory: i apologized for sacking you and you said that if i bought you a drink we’d be even.

merlin now remembering how he had stumbled into camelot, picked a fight with a pigheaded bully which quickly turned homoerotic and flirtatious, and continued their teasing-flirting for days before merlin shot his shot and asked the prince out only to be rejected: oh yeah, i forgot i did that…..wait, you mean you didnt realize what i was asking?

arthur: no?? we argued everyday, how was i supposed to realize you were asking me out??

merlin now abandoning the dinner and staring across the camp at arthur while the rest of the knights watch their back and forth like a game of tennis: to you we were arguing, to me that was very much flirting. i thought you were flirting back so i decided to ask you. then you rejected me

arthur, mentally beating his past self up for fucking up their chance: i didn’t reject you!!! i just didn’t realize what you were asking me. how was i meant to? we fought every chance we got

leon, nudging elyan, glee and excitement riling through him: its happening!!! its finally happening!!! seven long, grueling years is finally paying off!!!

merlin, realizing the misunderstanding and acknowledging the fact that he wasn’t rejected, his flirtations just weren’t noticed - realizing he still has a chance: oh…oh i see. arthur, my dear, our fights were extremely flirtatious. need i remind you of what you said? “do you know how to walk on your knees? would you like me to teach you?” or “i could take you apart with one blow”

arthur, mental capabilities at an all time low: m…my dear….?????????

merlin grinning devilishly as he realizes that his flirtatious persona he had hidden away after falling head over heels for arthur can make a come back: that is what i called you. should i call you something else? say…mine?

percival gags in elyan’s ear: cheesy

elyan hides a laugh: at least they’re finally getting somewhere. better than the hopeless pining

arthur, flushed from head to toe: ah uh no um im uh

merlin thoroughly enjoying himself: oh come now, your majesty. use your words.

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Woe, a thing I've been cooking for weeks be upon ye!!

A two parter story about Nine not keeping his mouth shut when asked and the result of that, which he didn't bother sticking by and see through, of which Part 1 is at the ready and spans 7,870 words!!!

---

His foot met soft grass that was slightly wet either from morning dew or recent heavy rain, and the portal closed right behind him.

Putting his hand above his face to block out the bright sun, Nine looked around the new universe.

At first, he would've written it off as just yet another Green Hill with the rolling grassy plains and radiant blue sky, but upon closer inspection, there were barely any hills and the grass seemed far too irregular to be that of the ever-present universe he keeps stumbling upon.

Whatever this place was, it turned out he didn't find himself too far away from a village, which, he wasn't sure was all that good news. Dealing with people, and especially strangers, was still far from his favorite activities, but the fox decided to shoot his shot anyway, seeing as there literally wasn't anything for as far as the eye could see but grass and more grass.

"Well hello there new face!"

...Of course.

"It's not too often we get outsider visitors, what brings you here!"

The ever-familiar blue hedgehog stood just ways off next to him with his hand outstretched for a greeting handshake.

Nine figured it was only polite to return the pleasantries, although his attention was immediately grabbed by the clothes this Sonic was wearing and just how young he looked.

The simple, golden crown sitting on his forehead, with a collared baby blue, long-sleeved shirt with wide cuffs adorned by gold and darker blue pants tucked into yellow, knee-high boots sure was something that Nine didn't think in any universe to be the hedgehog's style, especially not for his younger self, but he's seen all manner of things at this point.

"The name's Dream, guardian of the positive apples, nice to meet you."

Alright, color him even more curious in the first five seconds.

"Nine, I am... just passing by."

Nine looked around inconspicuously and found no twin-tailed fox in sight. Strange.

"Oh, well, depending on how long you plan on staying, I could be your tour guide!"

The chipper attitude of this Sonic must've rubbed off on him already as he didn't have it in him to decline, and nodded.

Following after the exited blue spike ball, the casual chatter and ambiance of the settlement almost immediately enveloped him, and he dared to say it almost felt cozy. The houses were made almost fully of wood and frequented dirt paths layered with rocks tied them together.

The inhabitants that noticed him — both human and mobian alike — gave him strange looks, but besides being used to that, the fox decided to chalk it up to looking extremely out of place in a primitive (ahem, simple) place like this.

Sonic on the other hand waved at and greeted almost every other person they came across. This means he must be either really popular, or everyone here knew each other by default given the relatively small size of the village.

The further they went, and the more porches with children picking and throwing grass at each other while laughing they passed, the more... picturesque, it all looked.

Like a drawing he'd find in an old, discarded storybook at the bottom of a dumpster an orphaned little fox would find and read through day and night over and over, wishing he could just go there.

Nine shook his head.

With living in the story book came suspension of disbelief, followed by an ominous, uncanny feeling. It all looked way too happy and clean, but he saved any further judgement for later.

"Here's Oakley's, the carpenters, where he can fix or create anything made out of wood! Though he's been kind of sick lately and the golden apple I gave him doesn't seem to be helping much."

Coming back to the present, Nine noted the second mention of the so-called 'golden apples' after they passed by a large dark brown house with a busy porch.

It was lined with chairs and other pieces of common wooden furniture, with its doors and window frames carved into charming patterns.

He particularly lingered on a cute wooden duck with wheels for feet and a string tied around its neck sitting on one of the tables. Not that he wanted it, but the fact it was most likely carved by hand, so he simply admired the craftsmanship. That, and it was the closest thing in his line of sight anyway.

They passed by a fruit stall next, and the smell of fresh fruit convinced him he felt just a little hungry. Though he learned to be careful with the food items from other universes at this point, after a few unfortunate events.

No matter, his pockets were empty both of any money and any other item he figured could have the same value as an apple to people in here.

"C'mon take one, we can't have our guest going hungry after all!"

Sonic seemed to read his mind though, or it was simply reactive generosity that the fox had no intention of declining. It was just an apple after all. Most likely. Hopefully.

Perfomatively wiping it into his shirt, Nine enjoyed the fruit to its full capacity as he followed the hedgehog around with no end goal in mind.

While in any other universe he'd find backseat shopping the most mind-numbing activity imaginable, he didn't have it in him to be frustrated in the slightest here for some reason.

Sonic dragged him back to the present yet again by pointing at another larger than the rest house.

"And this is the shop of our seamstress. She can tailor you the most beautiful, or if function is more of your thing, durable attire from almost any piece of fabric in no time! Though you can never expect where a conversation with her leads haha."

"Did she tailor your clothes too?" The fox asked mostly because the more he looked at the hedgehog, the more out of place he felt among the average villager here. Everyone was mostly wearing dark brown, beige, or white, simple clothing with aprons and hats, while Sonic looked like he should sit in a castle or a chapel of some sort.

"Not really, no, mine and Night's clothes were given to us by our mother."

"Tch, you look almost like a lost prince." Nine remarked with a smirk while noted yet another unusual mention of Sonic's seemingly biological family. Though the remark was meant as a sort of a pseudo compliment he wasn't sure it sounded like it.

"You think so, haha!"

Sonic ran with it though and didn't seem bothered by his attitude in the slightest. That was always just a matter of time anyway, but Nine decided to turn his attention towards what appeared to be a small bookstall that they stopped in front of now.

Small as in, one shelf of books sorted by... nothing as far as he could pick out, with a tiny mouse girl behind the counter.

Upon hearing Sonic's order she carefully handed him the book from the bottom shelf, instructing him to be careful with it, to which Sonic gave a smug nod yet held the book like it was made of porcelain until he turned back to the fox.

"Alright I think this is actually all I wanted, we can finally return to the tree and I can introduce you to Night too."

Sonic said with a smile and the book safely tucked under his arm.

Fine, so safe to assume that Tails exists in this universe. It's honestly jarring that he hasn't seen the other part of the seemingly inseparable duo no matter the universe yet. If anything he in vain expected the bright yellow fox to jump them a few streets back.

Perhaps he was sick and that's why Sonic went shopping for him?

They were about to continue their way and Nine was looking for a place to throw the leftover of his apple when a group of kids that paid him no mind almost ran him over, giggling. He wanted to curse them out and noted the two red foxes among the four of them, before his attention was dragged just a bit higher.

"Dream! You have not forgotten about the garden, have you?"

A female voice suddenly yelled out, but Nine ignored the mystery woman with all of his attention on the absolute behemoth of a tree sitting atop the hill in front of him.

Literally, how did he not notice that sooner was beyond him, but questioning his peripheral vision aside, he decided to nonchalantly turn his head back to face Sonic and the woman.

Her notably black hair was tied in a high ponytail and she held a set of baskets on her hip. Sonic stood just a ways away from her, looking between the items in his hands, the woman, and Nine, with his startled eyes lingering on the fox.

"Um, this is kind of important, if you could take this up and to Night?"

Sonic sheepishly extended the items forward, and normally Nine would've protested at the sudden turn of events, but decided to wordlessly take the two things from the hedgehog's hands instead.

"Ah, are you sure he doesn't want to go with us?" The woman inquired with an almost sickly sweet demeanor that Nine was immediately not fond of.

He eyed her, but tried to make his distrust not all that noticeable when he declined

"No thank you, I don't really do gardening."

"You sure darling? we could use an extra pair of hands."

"Miss Katheryne come on, no need to drag an unsuspecting passerby into pulling weeds eh. I'm well equipped for that job alone."

Sonic dragged her attention from the fox as he tried to pry one of the two baskets from her grip and Nine let out an internal sigh of relief.

She let the hedgehog take it while the other container fell over to her side and she let out a nervous giggle "Alright alright, well, enjoy your stay little one, you're of course welcome to stop by at any time."

Afterward she wordlessly turned around, with Sonic waving him a temporary goodbye.

Nine kept his eyes on the duo before they disappeared over a corner and were out of sight for good. He decided to not bother dissecting the out of pocket interaction as he made his way up the hill. The grass was quite slippery still, which made it difficult to secure his footing and not fall over every other step.

Quiet noises of both distress and laughter immediately sent him on alert however, and he was willing to sacrifice a bit by speeding up his ascend. Each longer step he took with little help from his mechanical tails saved a few centimeters of the incline and he wasn't all that out of breath by the time he met horizontal ground again.

The picture-perfect facade of this universe fell just as hard as the little fox that was shoved to the ground with a yelp by a young bear, who then mercilessly smoothed the fox's face into the ground, effectively muffling any noise he made afterward.

Nine stood frozen for just a second before not thinking twice and giving into the sudden spark of rage in his chest. Wrapping the string holding the bag together around his hand, he steadily made his way towards the little group.

These were surely the same four kids he saw run up the hill just a while ago, if those two cackling red foxes were anything to go by.

One of them grabbed onto Tails' bangs and forcibly lifted his head back off the ground and snorted, most likely finding the kit's face welled up with tears amusing.

Nine spared only a second for eye contact and using the fact neither of the kids noticed him so far for building some momentum into a swing.

The bear's shoulder was harshly met with a bag of apples — that surely felt more like rocks — as he was knocked off the kit and toppled over the red fox.

His pained grunt was mixed with a surprised gasp from the rest of the group left standing, and that's when Nine remembered he had much more effective tools of offense than one bag of fruit.

His mechanical tails sprawled around him, their tips pointed threateningly in front of each of the kid's faces and they all flinched back.

Nine couldn't help the smirk that made its way onto his face.

Good.

One amongst them, a human boy with dark black hair tried to play tough by yelling out and trying to get into his face. Nine felt in no way intimidated by him however, even if he was taller, as the kid was scrawny and had no real weapons that could hold against his. Nine bared his teeth and posed himself just a bit above the ground, which appropriately made the human, alongside everyone else, reconsider and back away just a bit more.

"Tch, you think we're scared of you?!"

Nine narrowed his stare towards the red fox holding his shoulder. A face he recognized and one that he already made turn tail and run the other way when he was much younger and weaker.

Nine made a bluff strike that aimed at the fox's chest. The runt appropriately jumped back with any confidence he had dissipating and unease taking over his posture.

"Yes."

"You're way over you head, freak."

He heard the human boy lift a rock and throw it his way. It would've been a successful hit to his head had he not effortlessly blocked it with one of his tails. For a second before that he considered catching it in his hand, but decided to rather keep to a reasonable limit of his abilities to avoid getting too drunk on his power high.

"Pot calling the cattle black."

Nine simply stated with a grin as he picked up the rock nonchalantly.

The human gulped as Nine made him his clear target, by all means wanting to return the rock full force back to sender, except at the last second he shot it towards the bear that was already on his way down the hill.

With a yelp, he didn't manage to dodge it and the rock hit his ankle full force.

A fearful face betrayed any bravado the bear might've posed in his statue and Nine's grin only solidified when his ear flicked back.

Apparently, to drive the point further in, and fairly demonstrate the fact he wasn't stupid, he made another bluff strike behind him, spooking the yet uninjured red fox who thought it was a good idea to sneak in a failed surprise attack.

A loose brush with a metal point to his nose seemed to be what finally made the kids decide he wasn't worth it and they promptly ran off the hill while cursing under their breath.

Which left just him, and his lookalike alone under the tree's shade.

The sudden shot of adrenaline slowly dissipated, and he fully reveled in the small catharsis of knowing he was still more than intimidating enough to deal with a pathetic group of bullies like that.

Nine let out a sharp sigh and snapped his mechanical tails back in place, then finally turned towards the person he went up here for in the first place.

Or where he though he would be, but instead found just flattened grass.

The next best place to look was the tree branches above, and sure enough he saw a pair of scared blue eyes looking tearfully back at him.

Nine dropped the bag of apples to the ground unceremoniously and tried handing over the book, basically beckoning the other to come back down.

With all the sudden movement though, Tails all but flinched and retreated further into the tree's crown.

Nine knew that even when the immediate danger was taken care of, his first and then overall impression wasn't exactly friendly, but that was by design.

He sighed.

"I'm not gonna hold my hand out forever. Sonic- Dream sent me to give this to you."

A a bead of silence was followed by a while of rustling leaves and finally a thud sounding from the other side of the tree.

Trained pointy ears peaked from behind the tree trunk and Nine's hand officially gave out.

At long last the other fox showed himself fully and Nine could properly analyze him.

This Tails wore the exact same attire – albeit now dirty from mud and grass – as Sonic. Except the color scheme was purple and brown, with a roughed-up golden cape draped around his shoulders and the simplistic crown smooshing the three strands of fur on his forehead sported a hollow out of a crescent moon.

He went to take the book, but Nine's hand sprung back a little too fast and Tails hesitated.

With a deadpan expression Nine didn't react too much on it and waited until the other finally let his hand fall empty and free.

He figured that he could at least offer the basics of sympathies, although not make it seem like he was high and ready to patch up the kit's, hopefully, only superficial injuries.

"Nothing broken?"

Tails shook his head.

"Good."

Nine then took a few steps back and slumped against the tree, finding a comfortable place between the roots.

At a loss on how to carry this interaction further, Nine crossed his hands over his chest and looked to the village bellow. While at it, he realized he most likely marked himself a future target, if the human kid's familiar features had anything to say but he digressed.

Whatever whiny tantrums they'll throw is at most a future him's problem.

The face of the red fox flashed fore him and Nine to turn back towards the other sitting under the tree.

"How often do you have to deal with those."

Albeit his question might fall on mute mouth since so far this Tails hasn't spoken a word, though Nine hoped it was just the result of stress as he didn't feel like navigating a nonverbal conversation.

Tails merely grabbed the golden cape around himself like a protective blanket while, thankfully, trying to find his voice.

"I-its, um, it's a rare occurrence really I j-just..." He shook his head and slumped back against the bark, seemingly trying to sink into the ground bellow. "Thank you, anyway."

Tails stared at his book that he finally opened in his lap, but it was obvious he wasn't reading, mind stuck on and busy processing other things.

"...It's not often someone bothers with that."

The insecurity in that barely audible whisper apparent, Nine grit his teeth. He had a faint inkling he knew exactly what was going on here.

"Have you tried fighting back?"

Tails fiddled with the corners of a few pages with his eyes downcast before answering "Not really. I'm sure if I did it they would just get meaner, anyway."

Fair point, which for a second made Nine reconsider his immediate and almost absolute suggestion. Fighting back without any means to secure victory and make it stick would cause more harm than good.

Looking back down and around, the view from up here was pretty enchanting to say the least, and the air seemed slightly lighter too.

His attention was soon back to the tree however, and the shimmering specks of fruit hanging from it. It was hard to immediately tell with the sun hitting some of them directly, but they were two different colors.

Nine marked them as the golden apples Sonic kept going on about.

Eventually, his eyes ended up back down, looking at the little fox huddled on the ground. Upon more careful inspection, this Tails also looked really young, maybe around six or five years old, and the notion of that made him frown when counting in his banged-up state.

Ignoring the current bruises and messy fur, there was an obvious scar on the bridge of his snout, what was definitely dried blood under his nose, multiple patches of ripped fur from his otherwise bushy namesakes, and quite heavy eyebags under his eyes.

Nine also noted the kit contradicted himself right in the second sentence he said, but after noticing all that, there was no way Nine's buying the previous scene being a rare occurrence.

Tails is universally bullied most commonly for his namesakes — and that's a fact as he came to find out — but that usually ceases after his pretty much fated meeting with Sonic. Which, doesn't seem to be the case here for whatever reason.

Nine eventually tired of standing in the middle of the hill and sticking out like a sore thumb, so he made his way towards the apple tree and sat one clump of roots over, next to the kit as nonchalantly as possible. Although he made a makeshift chair of his mechanical tails as he didn't really feel like sitting on damp and uneven grass.

Giving it a few seconds to get comfortable, Nine then peered over the wood separating them. The uncharacteristic deviation from the almost universal relationship between the fox and the hedgehog kept nagging his mind.

"Does Dream know about this?"

The tense silence from the other was more than enough of an answer.

"Why don't you tell him, I'm sure he'd be able to do something about it."

The guardian's downcast expression turned sour, with a few creases appearing on the book's pages.

"I don't think so. Everyone loves him, but only because it literally makes them feel good when he's around. And that he has trouble saying no to people when they ask something of him, so they find him useful."

Finally giving up, Tails closed the book and set it aside, then hugged his legs close to his chest and rested his head on his knees.

"I'm sure if he went against them because of me, they would not take kindly to it."

Nine soaked up the words and was actually taken aback by the bluntness, but it seemed that so was Tails himself.

"I'm sorry this is, um. You're not from here, are you? I'd rather not make this one of your problems, I don't think you have to see too deep into it."

Nine realized his expression has gone too soft at that, and took his time to distance himself from the other.

Yeah, yea Tails was correct in fact. There was no reason to care about something that will ultimately be inconsequential to him. A few minutes in, it was obvious this universe was far from ideal place for him to stay, as one, he definitely doesn't feel like raising two orphaned kids in a village so obviously biased, so whatever squabble or interpersonal relationship wasn't his business. And two, there was little to no technology present besides handcarved wooden ducks, which would sooner or later drive him insane.

He let complete apathy wash over him and grabbed the MTC in his hand.

But while he could just get up and leave at any moment...

Looking at the other fox from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit of sympathy hold him down.

He knows more than anyone how much it would mean if someone stepped in just once before he had to do it himself. And if the technological state of this village was anything to go by, that would prove to be just a bit more trouble for the Tails in here.

"The name's Nine by the way."

The fox's ear flicked towards him, followed by an unsure expression.

"Nightmare."

That sure is... a peculiar name.

"Big brother calls me Night though, which sounds very similar to your name actually." Tails gave a weak smile at that and finally turned his head to face Nine.

"Hmm, yeah it kinda does." There wasn't much that came to mind in terms of an answer to that though, and he let the conversation die right after.

Wait. Oh was this like, a sun and moon type deal. Dream and Nightmare, purple and yellow, golden and black and all that.

Nine playfully rolled his eyes at not getting the very obvious theme sooner.

Though, Idly sitting here made him realize just how exhausted he was from his constant hopping back and forth between all manner of worlds, so he figured there was nothing wrong with taking a little break from all that. Maybe he'll stay overnight and a bit of tomorrow after all.

Or maybe he'll just take a nap right here and now and set out again afterward.

He crossed both his legs and hands while keeping his ears trained for the smallest movement going around.

The purpose of it was defensive, just in case anyone else gets any funny ideas while he appears low on guard, but it leaned in the side effect of making him soak in a stray bird song, undertoned by the rustle of hundreds of leaves under a gentle, albeit slightly chilly breeze that was nicely canceled out by the warm shade the tree provided.

Even if he could never truly afford to relax, this was probably the closest to something like that he'd ever get. That is until he finds a proper home. Hopefully.

"Where are you from though, I never seen anything similar to those metal tails you have."

That threw a wrench in his plans. Although it was rather foolish of him to assume Tails would just, be quiet the whole time, and not wonder about the random stranger that just wandered into his favorite hiding place for all he knows.

"Where I'm from is not important, I'm basically a homeless wanderer at this point." Nine settled on forcing out. And his place of origin really meant nothing to him. If anything he was glad most of his memories of New Yoke were faded and unclear as were that of Shatterverse. He didn't belong to either of those, and so there was no use in remembering them.

"You look really familiar."

"No duh, I have your exact face- don't worry about that too much though." Nine quickly backpedaled, he didn't feel like explaining the concept of the multiverse right now, as he warily stole a glance at the other fox.

"Well, maybe a little less babyish but still."

"No not like that I mean- yea nevermind."

Tails went silent again, seemingly regretting his choice to speak up in the first place.

A small pang of guilt hit Nine when he saw the other shrink into himself again, and he sighed.

"Ok, well then what do you mean?"

It took a second. But the guardian took time to regain the bit of his confidence to speak back up.

"...Those, metal tails of yours, when you were scaring off the other kids a while ago, they made your silhouette look like someone I frequently see in my dreams."

That... was sure something Nine wasn't expecting to hear, but he'd be lying if he said some curiosity wasn't piqued. This universe sure had its way of doing that.

"As in, a prophetic way or..?"

"In a nightmare way, actually." The other stated matter-of-factly, but when Nine creased his brow, he immediately went on defensive

"Don't take it as me being rude or superstitious! I'm really not! It's just, uh, an observation." He then chuckled weakly, most likely hoping to decrease the tension, but Nine was neutral with that notion honestly, not even knowing whether he should think anything of it at all.

He never attributed any deep meanings to dreams, as they were just recreations of his lived experience, which, were far from pleasant. Whatever Nightmare here is going through is the same most likely.

But it made him think, that maybe little him would be proud to have have a silhouette someone would see in their recurring nightmares, a bit.

He placed one of his mechanical tails in his hand and for the first time after a long time, carefully examined them again. Their dull casing was scarred by dents and scratches from their years of active use, with the gear holding this particular segment firmly kept in its place with the neon underglow still active.

For a second he was back in his workshop as a much younger self, grinning like a maniac after he connected the last of the needed pieces together and finally tried out the finished tails (after many failed prototypes) with an immeasurable amount of pride in his chest.

He smiled, reminiscing, until the guardian's small voice shook him from his stupor.

"Anyway, you said Dream send you here?"

He let the tail fall from his hand.

"Pretty much. He wanted to come along but some lady stopped him and dragged him off to clean weeds or something. I don't remember."

"And she just let you go?"

"Begrudgingly, but yea. Why?"

Tails went quiet again, picking at the tips of his namesakes with pursed lips.

"The villagers...they don't really like me."

The fox started slowly with his ears pinned back.

"But they don't want Dream to know that. So some of them will distract him and keep him occupied, while others will- well, I don't know how much you saw but, they're usually a bit more vicious than that."

Tails shook his head and finally uncurled from his position, picking up the book again.

"I was just wondering for how long he'd be away again. If Katheryne took him then it's probably until sunset..."

The way the little guardian spoke made it all the more clear this was not just a repetitive torment from the side of the stupid kids, but a calculated move from the adults as well.

Sudden anger began to bubble in Nine, but he wasn't sure who it was directed at. He'd much rather dismiss it as Tails reading too much into it, but it's him that lives here, not Nine.

Something about that woman's insistence he'd come along before Sonic interjected now justified his negative hunch about her.

The anger must've taken to the surface and Nine lost control of his facial features, as whatever was his face showing alerted the fox next to him.

"But you won't tell him, Right? I- I already said I can't drag him down with me, you can't."

Nine looked at him for a second, for some reason stumped for an answer. The simple decision would be to just say fine, and leave it at that, turn away, and forget about this world just like the others. But that self-evident and most rational decision didn't seem all that appealing based on the very little window he had just seen into this universe.

He'd be a liar if he kept telling himself he didn't care for the kit. Even if it was more of a project-y sort of rage towards the people here he doesn't even know, than sympathy for his situation (for some reason).

Nine internally groaned and forced himself to seal a promise he wasn't 100% sold on keeping.

"I won't say a word."

Tails well, it was hardly a smile he gave once his shoulders finally dropped with the release of tension, and he sunk back to his spot.

The words fizzled out once more.

Sun continued its path through the blue sky unbothered by any event beneath it and ever so slowly dimmed as silent minutes ticked by. Eventually, the leaves were accompanied by the flicker of book pages as Tails finally started reading.

Nine began to thread the line between sleep and consciousness when a sudden yawn ripped through him.

The kit next to him audibly flinched and Nine toppled back into being mostly aware of his surroundings. His nose twitched in annoyance.

"I um, I forgot you were here." Tails laughed nervously. Nine attempted to ignore him however and tried to take the only long term functioning remedy for that yawn.

Tails didn't let him have it as he suddenly hopped up and snatched the bag of apples Nine dropped off not that far away, making it Nine's turn to flinch.

"We, I mean, me and my brother don't really have to eat, but it's nice to just munch on something sometimes. Don't know how it's with you but I assure you apples from here taste amazing!"

Nine took the offered apple from the kit's hands but then simply dropped it into his lap.

"Yea I already had one today, thanks either way."

"We'll then you can keep it for your travels!"

All he gave was a small nod, as uninterested as he could be.

"I'm sorry I keep talking, but, one last question."

Nine fought with himself to not audibly groan.

"Um, just how long will you stay here?"

Instead, he huffed, fully abandoning the idea of the nap.

"Probably the night and I'll set out in the morning."

But he suddenly stopped himself when he realized his tone had just a bit too much of an edge to it, not to mention he hadn't used it consciously. Just sitting here, he felt more frustrated than back in the village with Sonic dragging him around like a dog on an invisible leash.

He side-eyed the kit next to him, but he felt insane for the dots it made him connect, so he brushed it off.

He was really tired is all. And someone constantly had to interrupt his attempts at getting a proper rest.

Tails simply hummed in acknowledgment and returned back into his reading.

Unfortunately, Nine was completely offset now and couldn't put his mind to rest no matter how hard he tried.

Letting out a sigh through his nose he looked up and leaned his head just a bit more roughly, yet intentionally, into the bark of the tree.

That sigh must've been just a decibel too loud when Tails's ears lowered and he began apologizing

"What are these apples about."

Though Nine couldn't care less about listening to pointless "sorries" while transfixed by the peculiar fruit hanging above him.

Tails perked up ever so slightly instead. "Well, without going too deep into the magical-mechanical aspect of them they're like, little fruits containing concentrated either positive or negative emotion, which is marked by their opposing colors. Though a better contrast would've been black and white, but can you imagine white apples?"

The kit was pointing towards the fruit hanging above them as he spoke with that was definitely an attempt to end a part of his spiel humorously, although Nine wouldn't say succeed.

"Their shared existence on one tree holds the balance in the emotions of everyone in this world, as far as I know."

Nine sure wasn't expecting a whole ass sudden info dump, but despite it, he sure had questions. He went to open his mouth, only for Tails to silence and answer his question immediately.

"You're not allowed to take or eat them though, since they're way too powerful and overwhelming for one person to hold and can be only lent for a while with our permission, since I and Dream are the tree's guardians and all that..."

With what great confidence Tails began to speak, slowly fizzled.

Nine let the remark of neither of them exactly doing their jobs die on his tongue, and instead, he decided to indulge the kit next to him, he was the one who started with the questions anyway.

"Can you eat them?"

"Well... we've never really tried. Besides, just holding the apple gives more or less the desired effect anyway. That leads to no one really caring for the negative side of the tree."

Tails trailed off again, deciding that the grass beneath him was super interesting and he needed to rip a few blades of it to closely examine them.

"And I was... born from it. Which is why you're so irritated right now."

Nine raised his eyebrow.

"So you knew...?"

"I can sort of weakly sense the emotions people around me are feeling. So yes. Doesn't help that being next to me only intensifies the negative ones though."

Tails was fully curled on himself at this point, hiding in the golden cape that would actually fit Sonic's vibe way more than Tails' but asking about that would either have the kit shrink even more or let him loose on another info dump.

"You're full of them though, even without my influence."

Nine simply chuckled in agreement at that.

"So with that logic, Dream has the exact opposite effect?"

Tails silently nodded.

"Fascinating."

Even so, Nine didn't mind getting to know more of this apple stuff. It's both an outlandish yet genuinely interesting concept if he says so himself.

Feeling a little less red string on a corkboard, Nine found himself curious still, mulling over random questions while Tails went on and on explaining them.

Their conversation leading to Nine explaining random robotics trivia that Tails followed up with his own limited knowledge and questions went back and forth. It let time flow on quite easy again, until they were interrupted by the sound of someone familiar huffing his way up the hill. With that, Nine was made aware of just how much time has passed when he looked at the dark orange to pinkish sky draped in a low sunset.

Soon enough, a dirt-covered Sonic holding a square bag to his shoulder, with his sleeves rolled up and gloves sticking out of his pant's pockets, greeted them energetically.

"Haha, glad to see you two getting along!"

The foxes waved back to him, and the hedgehog bent over leaning on his knees while struggling to catch his breath.

"Sorry for taking so long, Katheryne can really be a handful sometimes."

Regaining a bit of his strength, he took the two extra steps and stopped in front of Tails. He than brought the bag off his shoulder and immediately dug through it.

Sure enough, it was made clear the bag was a first aid kit — or at least what would be considered that for the times this universe lives in — when Sonic laid out a few bandages and tiny bottles with clear liquids. He covered the opening of one with a piece of clean white cloth while Tails put his hands out in protest.

"Sonic I'm fine don't worry about-"

"Shush no excuses, now show me your nose."

With great reluctance, Tails let the hedgehog hold his muzzle and wipe off the dried blood, before he moved on to the mud still staining the front plain of his face.

"It smells horrible."

Tails scrunched up his nose and physically tried to shake the aggressive scent off him while Sonic carefully rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing a bloodstained bandage that must've been a few days old already.

"I know bud, I know."

Nine watched them silently, unable to fight the sympathy that the fox kept garnering from him at this point.

Huh, if the emotion aura stuff is true it would only make sense the two being near each other would cancel out and make the area neutral.

Either way, the fact Sonic came prepared meant he was aware enough to know Tails keeps getting hurt when he's away, which made the relationship just a bit more confusing again.

"You didn't happen to ruffle each other up while I was gone have you?"

And of course, Nine would be the prime suspect for Tails gathering the new injuries that weren't there in the morning. He was bout to say what happened exactly, when he was hit with Tails' pleading eyes and the promise to keep his mouth shut.

"N-no worries big bro, I just fell off the tree because my cape got stuck in the branches, it's fine." Luckily, Tails seemed to have a mildly convincing excuse at the ready, and Sonic turned his full attention to wrapping the now-cleaned gash in his brother's arm.

"If anything he's super nice, did you know that there can exist machinery so advanced it can be programmed to flawlessly mimic biological beings?"

Sonic froze for a second, unsure of how to reply, while he rolled up the dirty bandage.

"That, huh. That sounds kinda scary actually. Is that a common thing for where you're from?" The guardian asked, turning his head towards Nine.

"Kind of not really? It's mostly just an outstanding feat of engineering that was achieved only a couple of times, so no need to worry."

He couldn't tell either of them who the replicas were based on now, could he?

The hedgehog merely nodded while Tails went on, either to distract himself from the sting in his arm or just because.

"Nine knows so much about machines, and he told me so many cool stories he got from traveling all over the place!"

"Huh, sure would love to go on an adventure like that someday." Sonic mused after carefully placing all of the supplies back into the medical bag.

"Well why don't you?"

Nine asked without hesitation, because if there was one thing he learned at this point, it was that Sonic cannot stay in one place for long. Even if you embed his legs into concrete, he'd either go insane or find a way out.

"We can't go anywhere, since we have to stay near the eyeshot of the tree to not let anyone get any funny ideas." Sonic sighed.

And that seemed to be true here, except the responsibility keeping Sonic tied down was something he couldn't run away from.

"Do you guys like, live here? Under the tree I mean."

"Hmm pretty much. Well in my very humble opinion it's much better than in a closed off hut built somewhere in a ditch."

Sonic threw the bag up and it's straps caught on a nearby branch. He tugged on it to make sure it will not slide down before climbing the tree himslef and stretching his hand out for Tails to grab on.

"It could do with something to keep the rain out though."

Tails commented and followed his brother up into the crown again, where he basically disappeared between the leaves.

"Sleeping on a tree can be hardly comfortable."

"Hah, says the one who sits on cold metal."

Sonic shot back with a finger gun pointed at Nine.

"Thermodynamics. The metal doesn't stay cold for long."

Sonic's attitude dropped a bit at the most likely unknown word to him but he brushed it off, finding the most comfortable branch to sit on, and leaned back on it. Maybe leaned back too much, as he toppled over and hung upside down from the branch like a bat.

"Thermowhatever's when wood is all you're used to sleeping on since birth it is more comfortable than a rigged bed."

"Agree to disagree."

"Mimimi."

Sonic mouthed back, but Nine didn't mind it much, banter with Sonic was fun.

"So you said you'd stay the night?"

Tails' disembodied voice was accompanied by an unnatural rustle of leaves.

"Most likely yea."

Suddenly the world went dark for Nine as suffocating weight was thrown over him. His temporary panic was intercepted by Tails' giggles and Sonic's tone that couldn't contain its humor properly either

"It gets cold at night, and I doubt anyone here would be willing to let a stranger inside their house at this hour. Not to be mean or anything, just safety for safety's sake y'know."

The sudden darkness turned out to be a yellow and navy blanket with sun and moon patterns. Nine assumed it to most likely be tailor made for them by the mentioned seamstress, but that was besides the point. The blanket was indeed a good insulator so it served its purpose.

"Thanks." Nine mumbled and somehow put the blanket over himself in a more comfortable manner. "Why do you go to sleep so early anyway?"

"And who told you we're going to sleep eh." Sonic swung himself back up into a proper sitting position, crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand. "Again don't take it personally, but we can't leave the tree unsupervised, like, at all. Though I wouldn't mind if we could go on an adventure like you're on." Sonic sounded like someone elbowed him at the end of his sentence.

"So you're just gonna stay up the whole night instead."

"There's two of us for a reason duh."

He's gonna be kept under a night watch, how lovely.

Unfortunately, Nine knew it wouldn't be possible to enter deep sleep when someone's watching him, or is aware of his presence at all. He would of course give it a few minutes maybe an hour or two if he bears it, because he needs some rest at the end of the day, but he'll hardly make it till morning.

Feeling his head lulling to the side he shook himself awake. Opening his eyes, Nine turned towards his MTC with full intent of activating a portal and leaving without a trace, but the image of Tails with terrified eyes welled up in tears surfaced in his mind uninvited.

Nine exhaled with more force than needed.

He looked up, the hedgehog's leg dangled off a branch carelessly meaning that if either of the guardians fell asleep, it was Tails.

With great effort, Nine got up to his feet and flew the extra distance needed to be at eye level with the hedgehog.

He flicked Sonic's nose with full intent of breaking the promise he settled just a few hours back.

"Ow what the-"

Nine quickly covered the hedgehog's mouth and cursed himself for not thinking just one step ahead. Tails has to be unaware until Nine is already on his way, the consequences weren't his to deal with.

Sonic didn't take kindly to the gesture, unsurprisingly, and while mumbling curses, he grabbed the fox's hand in an attempt to shove it away.

Nine didn't budge though "Be quiet and meet me at the bottom of the hill. I just have something to tell you and I'll be out of your guys' fur, I promise."

Nine put as much urgency into his whisper as he could while keeping a finger to his mouth.

Sonic narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder at his sleeping brother, before sighing.

"You better not be playing me for a fool buddy."

But Nine was already halfway down the incline, not letting his legs suffer the way they did when going up, he elected to just glide down.

By all accounts the guardian finally caught up to him and exclaimed "Woa you can fly?!" after Nine landed.

The fox's eyes were fully concentrated on his MTC as he fiddled with the coordinates.

"Yes and by all accounts, Night should too."

"Wait what."

"He has two tails doesn't he?"

"Yes but I'm not sure those are exactly build for flying..."

Sonic scratched his head, while Nine was one confirm click from opening a portal.

"Now, I've been asked specifically to not tell you anything, but listen up."

He wasn't sure just how strong Sonic in this world was but if he was worth a damn, he'll do something to save his little brother.

[fictionadventurer]

Adding Vanity Fair to the list of classic literature that I have avoided for far too long, because everyone talked about the serious parts and neglected to mention that it was hilarious.

Why was everyone telling me about Becky Sharpe, the scandalous and shocking anti-heroine (yuck), and never once mentioning the narrator who goes off on wonderfully absurd meta-tangents about the novel's structure and characters? It would be like talking about Wodehouse as if it were all from the POV of one of the scheming antagonists and failing to mention the wide cast of absurd characters and the quirky narration. Why does this kind of thing always happen with British literature specifically? Please let me know when books are funny, I'm begging you.

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

(Holy shit, y’all, FIVE parts and the notes STILL aren’t slowing down and I’m not even a Steddie/ST blog. Y’all are STARVED for content huh 😂)

Steve is confused, scared—terrified—and pissed off.

They’d made it. They’d been done with it. Done with all the Upside Down shit but it turns out the Upside Down wasn’t done with them, with him, because now they’re back and there’s bats everywhere and Steve can’t find his nail bat, come on, where is it, it was right here—

There. He lunges for it, wraps his fingers around the handle, feels the splinters pressing into his fingertips. One swing. One bat down. Hundreds, thousands more to go. He moves on autopilot, swinging and smashing and stomping and doing what he can. It’s not enough. It was never going to be enough, but he can’t just sit idly by and watch the world end.

“Dustin,” he yells, because he can see him, right in front of him, and there’s bats everywhere and why isn’t he listening, he’s standing, he’s alive, so why—

And then Steve sees. His bat falls from numb fingers. He doesn’t register as his fingertips begin to bleed.

A trash can lid, with nails imbedded in it like Steve’s bat. A hand, lying limp, not but a foot away.

Steve follows the hand up to the rest of the body, not understanding, not wanting to understand, but his eyes move up, up, up without his permission, landing on Eddie’s face, and he doesn’t recognize the sound he makes, doesn’t recognize that he makes a sound at all.

“Eddie,” he whimpers. “No- no, please-”

Eddie’s eyes are open, staring unseeingly into the distance, but when Steve speaks they slide over to focus on him. “Hey, Steve,” he says, and his teeth are bloody but he’s smiling and Steve’s dam breaks, and the tears come, and he’s falling to his knees beside Eddie.

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, “it’s okay,” but no, that’s not right, Steve’s not the one dying, he shouldn’t be the one needing comfort—

“Steve,” Eddie says again, stronger this time. His hand twitches, and Steve all but trips over himself to grab it.

“Eddie, no, you’re-” he chokes on a sob. Knows what Eddie’s going to say. Knows he can’t hear it. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay, you just hold on.”

“Steve,” Eddie says again, even stronger, and suddenly bats are attacking, clawing at his shoulders and torso and back and they descend upon Eddie like one of those Bible plagues, and Steve’s screaming, trying to help, and they’re on him again and—

He sits up with a gasp, and something in the dark room skitters back, and he can’t hear anything above the sound of his own gasps. He’s looking around for his bat, but it’s behind whatever moved back, so he looks around for something, anything, eyes wide, throat catching in panic by the time the figure raises its hands.

The creature moves forward, cautiously, hands out, but Steve still can’t see what it is, and he presses against the headboard, watching in barely contained panic as the creature begins to step towards him, slowly, until it’s sat on the foot of his bed.

His eyes flick up occasionally, towards the face, but they’re backlit and their hair is long and curly and something in Steve’s brain is saying it should be familiar but right now it just blocks their face even more.

Eventually his breathing slows down enough he can hear again, the blood stops rushing through his ears, and oh, God, he knows that voice, but that’s not possible, he’s dead, Steve watched him die—

“Didn’t die, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs. “You saved me. Saved all of us. C’mon, come back. I don’t know where your brain’s taking you but I do know it’s not fun, focus on me, on my voice, on my breathing. Wanna touch me? Make sure I’m real? Whatever you need. I’m kinda following your example here.”

Steve’s breath hitches again, and his hands are trembling and his throat is dry and his voice cracks but it works. “Eddie.”

“Right here,” he promises immediately, moving closer to perch on the edge of the bed, and Steve all but collapses on him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and sliding shaking hands around his torso.

Eddie’s hands come up to rub his back, hold his neck, and Steve could cry, is crying, trying and failing to hold back the tears, giving up when Eddie leans in close and whispers, “I’ve got you.”

Steve falls apart, trusting Eddie to pick up the pieces.

Pt 6

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Fifteen

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Chapter 15 - MoonshineNightlight - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

[Part One][Part Two][Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six][Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight][Part Nine][Part Ten][Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] Part Fifteen [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

The tournament takes advantage of the longer hours of daylight as the summer equinox approaches.

Soon enough, the jousting winner is declared—the knight from Nocant barely loses Alry, who had defeated Dale in the original non-tiered jousting round. Still, while there is an archery winner and now there is the jousting winner, the final winner of the tournament is the melee winner.

The knights are split into groups based on how well they did in the first two rounds. Dale will be competing in the champion’s ring which consists of the final four jousters and the three most skilled archers. Then there is another ring for the second tier ranked archers and jousters—twelve in total. Everyone else who participated in both rounds and who wishes to continue is placed in the final, largest melee ring. Purses and rewards will be given to various winners, of all three rounds and rings, with the winner of the champion’s melee ring being declared the winner of the tournament as a whole.

Lady Northridge as the host of the tournament would be the primary presenter of the prizes, however, as the tournament was in honor of the upcoming wedding and you are both one of said betrothed couple and not competing yourself, you will also present certain awards. As such, after leaving the jousting stands and afternoon meal at the high table, you are seated with Grandmother, one of the judges from the archery tournament, and one of the judges from the jousting tournament. Only Grandfather had also accompanied you from the group you’d watched the previous tournaments. 

You’re not sure you want to watch this melee anymore than the joust, although there is at least less horsepower and speed involved. It was far too easy for you to picture one of the competitors accidentally running another through with their lance. Not that it isn’t difficult to picture someone being fatally injured in melee, but you’ve watched practice matches and arms training with far more frequency, so it seems like it carries less of a risk.

Due to the way the different melee rings are chosen, the other rings are more dangerous than the champions ring due to the sheer number of combatants. Alliances tended to form between knights—likely hashed out in the break between jousting and melee—and they went on for longer, and so the competitors were more likely to make a mistake. The champions’ arena is the smallest ring, but still by far had a larger knight to square foot ratio. This gave a chance for a better exhibition of skill rather than luck or numbers. 

There are three primary ways to be stricken from the lists in the melee. Most obviously, if you are knocked unconscious. Secondly, if you are thrown from the ring. Fence height varies across tournaments, but as these fences are around waist height it’s technically a viable strategy . Finally, if any knight surrendered—at sword-point from another or simply because they no longer wished to continue—they could do so. Generally, only those injured removed themselves voluntarily once the melee had begun or else they were seen as cowardly or with no confidence in their skill. 

Those only skilled in archery or jousting and not in melee could withdraw at any time between rounds—archery with the most participants overall and the most who subsequently withdrew as even older knights might still be skilled enough with a bow even if no longer on horseback. It all depended on what type of bow they used in the tournament.

You’re grateful not to have to watch the other melees. There’s simply not enough room in these temporary stands to accommodate all three rings—in fact, they’re taking place on the outskirts of the fair where there is free space for both the rings and the crowds to watch. The other judges from the previous rounds are watching over those, baring the two here. Due to the limited stands around the champions’ ring, relatives and friends of the champions and other nobility are the ones who fill the majority of seats. You can see Dale’s cousins in the left stands, gossiping with Northridge’s neighboring nobles and some merchants. 

Your eyes are drawn back down to the ring, the champions having arrived a few moments ago. Instead of plate mail, all combatants will be wearing chain mail and all weapons will be blunted accordingly. You’ll likely only be able to track Dale due to the blue, black, and white that are his family colors on his tunic. Each has their pick from a variety of weapons for close range combat, provided by Northridge for the tournament.

You watch as Dale selects a sword as do three of the others, although one chooses a curved sword more popular in the south, and the remaining competitors select a battle ax, a scythe, and the final a mace. All still have daggers in their belt and solid wooden bucklers for shields. The chain mail they wear should be enough to prevent serious injuries. Still, some of your fears from the jousting: about Dale giving himself away, about him getting hurt, about him hurting one of the others.

You almost hope he gets pushed out of the ring in the first minute, at least then your nerves could relax. A glance around shows that no one else shares your sentiment—Grandfather in particular seems hopeful about Dale’s chances to win. Dale getting to this ring was what was in question since he doesn’t joust particularly often. He trains with the sword every day though and has started to do so again after he recovered. Families of those who host these tournaments don’t always win, but there is more pressure on them to make a good showing. And this one is in his, and your, honor on top of all that.

With all the weapons selected and the champions looking ready, Grandmother stands up. You can’t hear a word of her short speech—it's so similar to the others already given and you’re tense in your seat, eyes fixed on Dale. But your mind isn’t on this melee. Instead, you know that in a short span, it’ll be over—this first official start of the wedding festivities—your wedding festivities. 

How can that knowledge keep catching you off guard? How can you keep feeling surprised, and a little confused, about your own wedding? And why is Dale, with all his changes, not the part that worries you the most? In fact, even with the additional worries his condition invites, when you think of him, you mostly feel relieved. He feels the most real out of all of it, makes you feel the least like a child pretending and daydreaming.

This melee will happen, and you’ll help award prizes, and then tomorrow there will be the first true ball for your wedding, and then it will be your wedding.

And then it will be…well, the rest of your life.

You jump when the trumpet sounds and the fight begins.

The first few minutes after the starting trumpet are the most chaotic as it is when there are the most combatants in the greatest proximity, at least that’s what you remember hearing from fellow students who had seen far more tournaments than you had. That certainly seems to be true and you can barely track who goes where and who attacks who first, the dust they kick up proving unhelpful as is the sluggish way your mind struggles to refocus on what’s happening right in front of you as they all move and try to scatter and guard simultaneously.

Dale seems to primarily be fighting defensively, but he’s staked out a, well, not a corner since the arena is circular, but a section of the fence he’s claimed for his own, trying to keep his back to the fence as much as he can. Everyone has instinctively paired off to some extent as Nocant knocked out Yoral’s knight with his ax nearly as soon as combat started. He’d moved almost too fast for you to really watch more than Yoral crumple to the ground. He’d certainly seemed like a large threat as the runner up to the joust so that prediction seems to be holding true.

Mindry is the closest to Dale and he’s practically ignored the other knight near him to follow Dale—perhaps he wanted the prestige of defeating the man of the hour. You also aren’t sure which of these knights Dale used to know personally. You know none of these here traveled with him during those years abroad, but the majority are local and therefore likely went to primary schooling or even trained to be knights in the King’s service with him. Everyone in the champion’s ring is within an age—the very young not having the skills and the older not having the physical stamina or the interest for tournaments. It is generally considered the game of the relatively young and unmarried. 

Mindry certainly seems to be going after Dale with strong intent. Dale catches his sword on his buckler, and Dale tries to use the shield to wrench the weapon from his hand. Unfortunately, the blunted weapon isn’t sharp enough to get stuck in the thick wood and Mindry steps back easily. Dale waits him out, though, not chasing after him and giving up his guarded back.

Sure enough, Mindry can’t stay away and closes in again, but this time Dale doesn’t bother trying to catch him. He turns to the side to avoid a jab, strikes with his sword to get Mindry’s at the wrong angle, and knocks his shield into Mindry’s hard enough the other man falls to the floor. Before he can finish getting either his sword or buckler back up, Dale’s sword is at his throat. 

You’re glad that the rules dictate no one can attack one knight while they hold another at sword point because Mindry takes longer than you think to drop his sword in surrender. While he hops over the fence to leave the ring, Dale turns back to survey his remaining opponents. 

Hilium’s facing off against Alry, her eyes on his heavy mace while he watches her quick sword movements. They exchange passes every few seconds, but neither has a clear advantage as they circle each other. 

Meanwhile, the knight from Tiffin has staked out a section of the fence similar to Dale, with Nocant coming at her. He seems intent on pressing his height advantage, backing Tiffin back against the fence surrounding the ring. She hooks her weapon behind his buckler, cutting through the strap keeping it attached to his arm. Barely reacting to the loss of his shield, Nocant surprises everyone—not just you—when he steps into Tiffin’s body instead of backing off or trying to recover his shield like she expected.

Dale’s edging towards the dueling Hilium and Alry as Nocant and Tiffin are on the other side of the arena. It’s clear he’s trying to watch both fights and you’ve found another reason to be grateful he’s so covered in chain mail so that no extra eyes pop up to try to help, or if they do, they’re hidden.

Nocan smacks Tiffin’s hand holding the scythe and bringing the flat of the ax down on her head—hard. She staggers and Nocant avoids her swipe with the scythe she’s managed to hold onto and jabs with the ax. Despite catching it on her buckler, she’s still badly disoriented by the blow he landed to her head and he manages to shove her over the fence railing.

“You are skilled with the ax, are you not, my Lady?” the other judge from the jousting tournament remarks from your right. You’re confused for a moment before you follow her gaze to Grandmother on your other side.

Grandmother cackled, eyes still squinting through her glasses at the ring as Dale switches his stance to prepare for the now free Nocant. “My illustrious husband does encourage that impression, does he not? No, despite his sweet name for me, I was trained with the sword only and lost that skill many decades ago. I’ve no taste for weaponry nor any ability with them.”

“Then why…?” Lady Spir leans around Grandmother to peer at Grandfather.

He grins back at her unashamedly and guffaws. “I began to refer to my wife as my ‘battle-axe’ in our time in the senate, as with her sharp tongue at our disposal I had no need for any weaponry to cut down dissenters. Unlike even my own skill with the sword, the edge of her weapon remains honed and the force behind it still able to cleave those she disagrees with in twain.” He pulls Grandmother’s hand, which he was already holding, up to his mouth so he can press a kiss to it.

The two of them really are quite sweet, you think to yourself as you look back to the arena where Dale left his spot to get between Nocant and his buckler. Nocant seems to decide that his only option is rush Dale. Luckily, Dale stands his ground, not letting the other knight back him into Alry or Hilium. He catches the ax on his shield and thrusts with his sword that Nocant only partially manages to dodge. Nocant tries to land another strike with the ax, aiming for Dale’s head, but Dale ducks and then shoves Nocant hard in the chest with his buckler.

Nocant lets out a bellow when Dale manages to drive him all the way back to the fence, despite the weight Nocant has on him and the blow he manages to land on Dale’s back. Dale surges back up, his buckler going under Nocant’s chin and his sword catching under the head of his ax, stopping a strike midway through. Nocant tries to disengage, but Dale twists his sword just right to send it flying. 

Nocant surrenders quicker than Mindry, knowing he’s got nothing left to defend himself. You bite back a cry when Alry crashes into Dale, knocking him to the ground. You’d been so caught up in his fight, you’d forgotten about the other one going on only a couple yards away. Dale rolls the unconscious Alry off of him and gets his buckler up in time to intercept a truly powerful looking downward blow from Hilium’s mace.

Dale pushes the other man’s weapon away from him and scoots backward before lurching to his feet unsteadily. Even once on his feet, he seems unsteady, shaking his head briefly and taking a few staggered steps even as his sword is able to meet Hilium’s weapon this time. You abruptly remember how Dale’s balance has been off sporadically since the incident, how he’d made a passing comment about being on horseback helping, but there always seems to be the possibility of issues when on his own feet. He claimed there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to his lack of balance which is why he simply carried his cane everywhere, but you doubt any of this combat has helped.

The men end up hilt to hilt, buckler to buckler for a moment, just shoving against one another before disengaging, Hilium’s retreat more controlled while Dale’s footwork remains just a bit unsteady. Grandfather mutters something under his breath but you can’t make out the words, a roaring in your ears as you watch them each jab at the other, a furious dance of dodging and clashes kicking up dust. 

Why did you ever think watching them actually fight would be less stressful than the joust? You barely feel like you’ve breathed since the trumpet went off, your hands are clenched so tightly in your skirts that they ache. Especially since Dale only seems to be getting further unbalanced as they continue to duel, each miss seems closer than the last until Hilium lunges forward with a triumphant cry. 

Dale bends all the way back at the waist, but doesn’t fall over. In fact, he hooks his shield under Hilium’s already badly positioned buckler, uses his sword to keep the mace away and uses his leverage to pull Hiliums shield arm, and the rest of him, over the fence you now realize he’d been steering them towards. He nearly wrenches his own with the move, and it results in both knights on their backs on the ground—but Dale is in the arena and Hilium is not.

Applause fills the stands as Dale’s squire hurries over to help him to his feet, Hilium’s doing the same behind him. You follow Grandmother to her feet as trumpets sound the end of the champions melee. 

A flurry of activity fills the ring, doctors and squires attending to the knights while a Northridge flag is raised over the stands, resulting in a second cry from the people around the outskirts of this arena. You slump back in your seat, feeling worn out for someone who’s done nothing but watch anxiously for the majority of the day. 

Once all the knights are free of their armor, mildly cleaned up, and conscious once more they arrange themselves in front of the host section of stands. It’s time for their rewards.

Grandmother, Grandfather, the two judges and yourself all stand yourselves to acknowledge them, walking closer to the knights themselves. Your eyes catch Dale’s as he grins, pleased with himself, and his grin only widens. He’s so obviously happy and proud you feel your expression grow more genuine as you smile back.

Grandmother is speaking, reiterating the prizes won and directing the servants to bring each champion their reward—purses, armor, weapons, and the like. As each competitor in this ring had won earlier, she gives those prizes now, with additional awarded to the last two eliminated in the melee, until only Dale was left. Her smile brightens at her grandson.

“Lord Dale of Northridge, heir apparent and betrothed to whom this tournament is dedicated. How lucky are you to have done so well in your own honor,” she proclaimed, her smile broadening at the crowd's laughter. “It is my pleasure to present to you this sword, a family heirloom I am relieved shall stay with Northridge—though of course I would have been pleased to present it to whoever was worthy. Originally, this sword belonged to my grandparent, to whom this estate was rewarded by Queen Sara the Second to increase our holdings as a reward for his service to the crown. This sword was commissioned and forged by Derryn of Northridge to be worthy of our expanded holdings.”

“Unfortunately,” Grandmother continues as you take a moment to admire the clear way she manages to project her voice, how it both reaches far but also causes others to fall silent. You’re grateful Dale seems to have inherited that quality and that no one expects you to give speeches such as this—at least, not yet. “The sword continued to see heavy use in Derryn’s lifetime, however by their grandchild’s time it was regulated to ceremonial display. In the flood that struck this estate a decade or two ago, it was damaged. In honor of this tournament, we had it restored and honed so it may once more serve the original purpose for which it was created.”

Dales comes forward so she can present the sword to him and he can strap it to his belt. He gives a similar but shorter reply—the words of gratitude from the winner dictated by tradition, but your thoughts are diverted because the final award was your own to give, both the physical and the privilege to the tournament winner which you are more than grateful is Dale. 

You would have had to have at least one dance with the winner at the dinner tomorrow and you are relieved to have the number of champions to dance with down to only the other two and Dale, with whom you expect the majority of your dances to be with as it is. 

Ceremonial crowns of woven laurels and flowers are the traditional prize, from when the very first contests of strengths began centuries ago. As the other for whom the tournament was for, it falls to you rather than Grandmother to bestow.

As Grandmother’s speech about Northridge and tradition and honor that she began after Dale finished his thanks wound down, you look to see if they’ve brought out the wreaths yet. To your surprise, Grandfather is the one who is coming over with the servants carrying the wreaths. You don’t know why that makes your spine straighten, he’d helped direct the armor given as well, but it does. Maybe it's the way his eyes dart to yours, a practiced blankness to them that he never used to have, and then away.

Your eyes land on the wreaths themselves, trying to push aside your trepidation. At least the crowns are obvious in which should be awarded to who. The one with blue flowers is nearly identical to the one with red flowers, both smaller and with fewer flowers woven in amongst the laurel branches. The champion's crown had to be the one with blue, red, and yellow flowers and was more elaborate than the others. 

You pick up the blue wreath the footman holds out to you and at Grandmother’s prompt, walk over to Yoral to bestow the wreath for his winning of the archery tournament. “Congratulations on your victory,” you say formally, focusing mostly on keeping your voice steady rather than particularly loud. Yoral lowers his head so you can place it as you continue, “Bear this symbol of your ability proudly and with great honor.”

He bows carefully to you and Grandmother, before bowing to the crowd and stepping back with the others. As he does so, you accept the red wreath from Grandfather’s squire, your gaze briefly stalling on the champion’s crown for only an extra second before you turn back around to walk over to Alry, winner of the jousting tournament.

As you repeat the same words and actions, your mind is stuck on the differences between the wreaths. The champion wreath has the same flowers as the others, but it also has one or two additional flowers in blue and red woven in that strike you as odd.

When you turn back for the final time to accept the crown, you are ready to analyze the flowers, grateful for your at least medicinal herbal knowledge as you slowly walk over. For blue flowers, borage is a common herb used with wine to soften memories, with certain people believing it dispelled forgetfulness and sadness on its own. It had no business in this crown. Blood sage is another that is not prestigious enough to be in such a crown and did have rumored cleansing properties—although the portion of the book you’d managed to read disputed that belief heavily, advising against counting on it to do much of anything. 

Finally, the yellow flower mullien did not suit either—not to mention there was only one spring of it rather hastily and loosely woven in. In fact, all of these flowers seemed like last moment additions. It took all your self-control not to look at Grandfather as you carefully. Mullien you did not remember reading anything about in the book, but you know it's associated with purification, both spiritually and medicinally. You had taken a few tinctures that included it yourself when you were younger.

You pick up the crown, taking care to wrap your fingers around the blood sage, with the mullien at the bottom. With your finger nail, you dig into the stem. You don’t think a single spring of the herb could hurt Dale, but you don’t want to take the risk. As you come to a stop in front of Dale you can tell you’ve cut through the stem itself with your nail, but it still clings.

“Lord Dale,” you say after swallowing slightly—all the moisture has vacated your mouth in the short walk over and you clear your throat as you look up at him. He certainly doesn’t seem worried or even to truly look at the crown as you continue, “Most congratulations on your victory. Your accomplishments in all three competitions has won you the admiration of the witnesses to this esteemed tournament.” You shake the crown as subtlety as you are able to as you raise it Dale’s lowered head, “Bear this symbol of your prowess so all may know of your talent and skill.” The mullien drops from the crown as you place it on Dale’s head. You quickly step forward, your shoe on top of the flower as you feel a rush of relief. Situated appropriately, you lean back to finish, “And do you honor you have earned.”

You pull back only to have to stifle a gasp as Dale catches your hand. His bright blue eyes catch your own as he presses a kiss to it, similar to how Grandfather had done to Grandmother only a little while ago. To your surprise, you feel heat begin to rise in your cheeks. He’s done so before, why is it flustering you so now? Maybe it's because it seems he’s left his mild suspicion and caution from the tent behind, even if it is only in front of an audience.

“My gratitude, my Lady,” Dale replies, eyes intent. You’re aware everyone around is watching, is listening, but you couldn’t look away if you tried. “This tournament was in honor of us both. What else could I do, but secure our victory?”

[Part Sixteen]

[chirpsythismorning]

Mike: *overhears Will talk about how he's in love with a boy that is oblivious*

Mike: Whoever this idiot is, he’s really missing out 🙄

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinkbing about. him

[honeysunchild]

It really hurts when it feels like a friend you considered family gives up on you and the relationship

Like, we could have talked about it, we could have found a solution together, we were each others family remember?! But instead you chose to just give up and cut me out

[meitanteisachi]

*taps mic* let it be known that yearning is my favorite emotion that is all bye

[holtbys-left-eyebrow]

i am forever thinking about:

“the words that dc fans been waiting to hear since 1974, the washington capitals are the 2018 stanley cup champions! it’s not a dream, it’s not a desert mirage, it’s lord stanley, and he is coming to washington!!”

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[variousqueerthings]

the thing about Margaret, is that she was an interesting character from season 1. I know she may not necessarily have been intended to be that, and probably not at all in her previous iterations in film and book, but here, from the very beginning, there was a something (and I say that as someone who started learning more about her future journey around... s3... vaguely, so I genuinely didn’t know she’d be getting these kinds of stories and narrative Weight. I know at this point that she’ll continue to grow until the end, but that’s about it)

and for whatever reason -- because the show was being created with a lot of mutual respect between the people on it (for the most part), because loretta swit was just that compelling, because because -- that potential was picked up on

she grows and gets her point of view and emotions explored, and crucially has the underlying ideas behind her actions all the way back in s1 -- when she wasn’t so fleshed out yet -- respected in hindsight

and it’s still so rare to see that! especially in female characters of course, it’s like there’s a mental block against seeing their potential. there’s absolutely a version -- a far far lesser version -- where Margaret could have been eternally trapped, beating against the narrow walls of her narrative and societal confines, while the narrative occasionally touched on something just interesting enough that you could taste her motivations and complex feelings (you know, maybe that is the book and/or movie version of her, I don’t know I haven’t engaged with either), but we get to see the one where she takes a sledge-hammer to the expectations that were placed upon her by said narrative and society in which that narrative takes place

a narrative that responds to when she’s internally fighting something, to her contradictions, that lets her yell and scream and punch (literally!) and be incredibly messy and so so fun to watch. I don’t know if it seems obvious in hindsight, but I keep thinking of how many lost opportunities there have been over the years, but this one time it’s an amazing experience

[fortjester]

nothing even happened!!!

[branwendaughterofllyr]

I am uniquely qualified to talk about characters who have terrible burns because I have had more than a few terrible burns

[sluttish-armchair]

Me: “I’m going to stop procrastinating and read The Invisible Man this weekend.”

Me, not even a day later: “Hehehehe Fahrenheit 451 go BRRRRRRR”