#i remember flying through these chapters and it was the highlight

[broodparasitism]

Everything I've Learned About Querying from Talking to Agents (And Traditionally Published Authors)

Disclaimer: I'm UK based, as was everyone I spoke to. I didn't include any country specific advice, just what I think is applicable regardless of where you live, put it might be useful to know this is from a UK lens.

As part of my course I was able to go to a lot of talks with literary agents (a mixture of literary, genre and nonfiction) and I picked up a lot of useful information - a lot of it not quite so bleak as I feared! - and thought it might be helpful to compile it for anyone looking to query agents in the future, so, here goes, under the readmore:

Querying

Remember that agents want to find and publish new authors. They're not at odds with/out to get aspiring authors. They want to work with us. This is someone you're working with, so don't pick an agent you won't get along with.

Manuscripts should be queried when they are as close to finished you are able to manage. There are a few agents that are open to incomplete manuscripts, yes, but many more that flat-out refuse unfinished work. Manuscripts generally go through about ~15 rounds of edits before landing an agent.

Send query letters in batches - around five or six at a time. There is no limit to how many agents you can contact, but you can't contact more than one agent from the same agency, so make sure you've selected the most suitable one from each.

In most cases you can't submit the same manuscript to the same agent twice - so having it be as finished as possible is all the more vital.

Some of them will take a long time to respond. Some never respond at all. If it's been three months of nothing, it's safe to assume that's a rejection.

One agent said she took on about two new authors a year, which likely isn't true for them all but is probably a reasonable average. For all of them, the amount of queries they get can be in the three digits a week. I can't emphasis enough just how many they get. I take a lot of authors to mean that means it's a 0.001% chance and despair, but that assumes each manuscript has an equal chance, and they don't. Correct spelling and grammar, writing in a genre that appeals to the agent, quality sample chapters and respecting the submission guidelines (more on this later) improve the odds by a significiant amount.

One agent said he rejected about half of his submissions from the first page due to spelling and grammar mistakes and cliches, for perspective.

You'll need to pitch your book. If your book cannot be pitched in three sentences, that's a sign it has too much going on and you'll need to do some pruning.

Please don't panic if you cannot come up with an accurate pitch for your book on the fly - you're not supposed to be able to do that. A pitch takes many edits and drafts just like a manuscript.

Send your first three chapters and a synopsis (this should be a page, or two pages double spaced. It should not include every single plot point though, again, if major things end up not there at all, question if they're necessary for the manuscript).

Three chapters is the standard - as in, if the agent web page doesn't specify how many, that's what to opt for. If they say anything else, for the love of God listen. If there was a single piece of advice that the agents emphasised above all else, it was to just follow each submission requirement to a T.

There needs to be a strong hook in these chapters. If your manuscript is a bit of a slow burn, that's fine, but you can cheat a bit with a 'prologue' that's actually a very hook-y scene from later on.

Read the agent's bio page throughly and make a note of what they like, who they represent, and what they're looking for, and highlight this in the query letter.

Your query letter has to say a little about you. It doesn't have to be really personal information (but say if you're under 40, because that's rare for authors and they like that), and keep it professional but not stiff, they say. If you have any writing credentials, such as awards won or creative writing degrees, include them, as with any real life experiences that pertains to the content of your book. But no one will be rejected on the basis of not having had an interesting enough life.

Apparently one of the biggest mistakes for debut authors tend to be too many filler scenes.

In terms of looking for comparative titles, think about where you want your book to 'sit'. Often literally - go into bookstores and visualise where on the displays you could see it. It's really helpful if you can identify a specific marketing niche. Though you want to choose comparisons that sell well, but going for really obvious choices looks lazy. A TV or film comparison is fine - as long as it genuinely can be compared.

Do not call yourself the next Donna Tartt. Or JK Rowling. They are sick of this.

Don't trust agents who request exclusive submission.

Or any with a fee. Agents take a percentage of your advance/royalties - you never pay them directly.

In terms of trends (crowd booing), there's been a boom in uplifting, optimistic fiction, but more recently dark fiction has been rising in popularity and looks to have its moment. Fantasy and Gothic are both huge right now. Publishers also love what's called upmarket/book club fiction - books that toe the line between genre and literary.

But publishers aren't clairvoyant and writing to trends is a futile effort, so don't let them shape what you want to write. Some writing advice I got that I loved was to not even THINK about marketability until draft three or four.

If any agent requests your full manuscript - this is crucial - email every other agent you're waiting to hear back from and let them know. This will take your manuscript from the slush pile to the top, and you are more likely to get more offers of representation.

The agent that flatters you the most isn't necessarily the best. Be sure to ask them what their plan for the book is, and what publishers they're planning to send it to - you want them to have a precise vision. It might be that their vision misses the mark on what kind of book you wanted to write, and if so, they aren't the right agent for you.

Research like hell! A good place to start is finding out who represents authors you love (the acknowledgements pages are really helpful here). if you can, getting access to The Writer's and Artist's Yearbook is very helpful, as is The Bookseller, the lattr for checking up on specific agents. (I was warned the website search engine is awful, so google "[name] the Bookseller" to see what they've sold. That said, only the huge deals get reported, so it's not indicative of everyone they take on.

I also want to add Juliet Mushen's article on what makes a good query. I owe a lot to it, and I feel like it's a useful template!

Once Agented

Agents send a manuscript to about 18-25 publishers, typically. Most books will end up having more than one publisher interested.

It can be hard to move genres after publishing a debut novel, especially for book two, not only because it means it takes longer for you to establish yourself, but the agent that may be perfect for dealing with manuscripts for book one might not have the skills for book two.

Ask the agency/publisher about their translation rights, their rights to the US market, and film and TV rights. Ask also what time of year the book is going to come out, if being published.

It's less the book agents are interested in than it is you as an author. You will be asked what you're going to write next, so have an answer. Just an answer - you don't need another manuscript ready to go. One author said she flat-out made up a book idea on the spot, and she got away with it - just have an answer. (This is also useful to put on the query letter.)

Caveat that this is, of course, not a foolproof guide to getting a book deal, nor is it in any way unconditional endorsement of how the industry works - I just thought it would be useful to know.

[slowandsteddie]

Lazy Petals

AO3

Okay. This work is NOT completed. I cannot guarantee an update schedule because only the first chapter is completed. However, I DO have everything plotted out (assuming it doesn’t get a mind of its own) and the goal is to be 50k+ words.

This story is very personal to me. I’ve taken my grandparents love/live story and made it Steddie. The characters are going to be OOC. Just letting you know right off the bat in case that is something you aren’t interested in. Also, this is a No Upsidedown AU.

My grandparents were immediately obsessed with each other, but didn’t date until after they had graduated high school. Which means that while this isn’t a slow burn, it is going to be slower than the stuff I usually write.

I don’t want to give too, too much stuff away. There there is a post where I described the main highlights and asked your opinion on reading it. There is also a poll where I asked if I should start posting before it was finished, and I got a pretty definite yes.

I saved the divider that I plan on using for this series back when I first started talking about it. I have since lost my note that told me whom to give credit to. If you know who made it (or know how to find that information on mobile!!) please let me know.

I think that’s enough of a preamble. Without further ado, here be the CW’s and the first 3,489 words.

Content Warnings: Steve was hit by a car and in a full body cast for over a year - he makes a bowling joke about it, his parents are very distant, his grandparents got very distant after his injury and he doesn’t understand why, Wayne is very careful while babysitting to make sure that no one can accuse him of being inappropriate, mentions of his mom overmedicating him so he’s easier to deal with, mentions of how weak he got from being in the cast. And as always, let me know if I missed anything.

Steve didn’t remember much about that night.

His mother said that it was a blessing and refused to fill in any blanks for him under any circumstances.

His father, however, if he had drunk enough whiskey, would look at the six year old Steve as though he were a much older man and sigh before telling him anything he wanted to know.

Which meant that Steve knew that the car that hit him swerved in order to do so. (He didn’t know if the lady in the little blue car did it on purpose, or if she was a distracted driver. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that.) He knew that she had to have been going over forty miles per hour because the impact sent him flying at least a dozen feet before he slammed into that bus stop. He knew that the driver kept going and that at least half a dozen people ran to his aid and that one of the women had screamed because he was unconscious and she was so certain that he was dead. His little body was so broken and bloody and they couldn’t see him breathe.

He also knew that his father got to his hospital room before his mother, sweat pouring down the older male’s body as though he had showered in his clothes because he had run there from work. His mother showed up over twenty minutes later, all put together like she had taken the time to clean herself up before appearing. Something his father wasn’t sure if he could forgive her for. (This was one of the few times that his father would express just how much that he loved Steve, and he would carry that warmth with him forever.)

He knew that they had to revive him four times, that they had done twelve surgeries, that they had put him in a full body cast because nearly every bone in his body had been broken, including parts of his spine. He knew that his parents had been told that he would likely never walk again. He knew that a specialist had pulled his father aside to inform him that his brain wouldn’t develop normally after all of the trauma that it had been through after being smacked around in his skull. They’d have to be careful, and that they’d have to understand if he never progressed much past the age that he was now. That he could be in his fifties and still acting five and that there was nothing that could be done beyond what they had already done – remove a small part of bone behind his ear to help relieve the pressure and pray for the best while preparing for the worst.

And, while he couldn’t remember the absolute agony that he must have been in. He did have the descriptions that he used to tell his father. That there was lava in his veins and his bones were shards of ice cold glass threatening to tear him apart completely. His father had only told him that part once, with tears in his eyes. “There wasn’t anything I could do to help you, boy. I couldn’t take the pain away. I would have died to save you even a fraction of that.”

That was one of the few times that he could remember his dad hugging him. He had been so careful and gentle while pressing his face into his hair. He inhaled deeply and he cried. And Steve had done his best to hug him back despite the plaster that made it near-impossible to move his arms at all.

At first, Steve had thought that it was really cool to be stuck in bed all the time. He didn’t have to do anything. That got boring within a week and he still had at least a year ahead of him where he was meant to stay in bed unless he was in the bathroom or at a doctor’s appointment.

Even eating in bed, something that had once been unacceptable and even punishable before, lost its novelty pretty quickly.

He liked having his mom read him notes from the teacher and his classmates. He liked her reading him his homework assignments and writing down his answers for him so that he would still be on track. It made him feel like an important man, like his dad was going to be, with a secretary.

The thing is, though, that he really missed going outside. He missed playing in the woods outside of the trailer park where he lived. He missed going to his grandparents house with the pool and the stairs that he’d probably never be able to walk again. He could climb them, though, after the cast was removed. He was pretty sure. He might not have a lot of muscle left at that point, but that would just mean that he was lighter and had less to have to move anyway.

When Steve brought that up to his mother, her lips would turn into a very tight, thin line and something he couldn’t name would flash in her eyes. “You are not going to go to that house any time soon, young man. It’s best to let those ideas go.”

“But I miss Grandma Marty and Grandpa Pete, and they won’t come here,” he whined.

“The Harrington’s won’t come to the trailer park and you know that.”

“We’re Harrington’s too,” he’d say defiantly.

She’d leave the room at that. Effectively ending an argument that they had had multiple times before. But what else did Steve have to talk about? He didn’t really have anyone else to talk to either, other than their neighbor that he had taken to calling Mister Wayne.

Wayne was probably a few years older than his dad and lived alone in a trailer that had always seemed so lively despite the quiet man who lived in it. He always had the tv or the radio on when he was home and Steve lived for that. Because his window was always cracked open for the breeze, which meant the sound could drift to him as well.

It was better than the quiet of his house that only seemed to get broken up with arguments and slamming doors. He was so used to it, but he still flinched every time and did his best to pull the blanket over his head as though that would muffle the sounds.

Sometimes, Wayne would come to his window and read him a book that his own nephew liked. The Hobbit. Steve fell in love with the adventure of it, and Wayne never seemed to mind reading him the same book over and over, a few pages at a time while he smoked.

More often than not, Wayne was the one who came over to babysit once he noticed that Steve had been left alone. He never once complained about it, never once gave someone else the chance despite all the ladies who would come over with food. And wine for his mom, when they could spare it.

Sometimes, Wayne would talk about his nephew. He was a scrawny kid, a few years older than Steve, named Eddie. Had a dark mop of long curly hair, and eyes that always seemed to have mischief in them. They’d like each other, Wayne was pretty sure, and he’d introduce them the next time that Eddie came to visit.

Steve would want to ask when that would be, but he never did. He had Mister Wayne and that was more than enough for him. His dad was staying later at the office, trying to prove that he deserved that promotion that would get them the hell out of the trailer park, without his parents' money. His mother was getting into yoga and book clubs, and Steve was being left alone a lot. Because, what kind of trouble could he get into when he was stuck in bed? Besides, the neighbors could hear if he shouted for anything and Wayne seemed very invested in making sure that he was okay.

Steve never knew why the older man made sure that his curtains were always wide open and that his light was on so that others could see that he was reading to him, or talking with him, from a chair that was always at least three feet away. Maybe it was so they would know he wasn’t alone? He wasn’t going to ask about it, not wanting to chance scaring away the one adult who never raised his voice at him, who never abandoned him when things got hard like his grandparents seemed to.

Months went by like this. His parents not being home, his grandparents not even calling about him, and Wayne doing his best to fill in the difference despite his own job. The other neighbors would come on occasion, but Steve was very sullen with them where he would laugh with Wayne. That didn’t deter them from coming over as he would have liked, and begrudgingly he found himself becoming friendly with a few of them.

It was the beginning of summer when Steve was finally able to get the casts removed. His father took him to the appointment, and he tried to not be disappointed that his mother wasn’t there at first. By the time he was wheeled out to the front of the office, though, his mother was sitting where his father had been.

He did his best to not look at himself. He was pale and scrawny and kind of stinky from not being able to wash himself properly because of all the plaster that had basically covered him for over a year. Most of his bones had healed great, according to the doctor. He wouldn’t know because he still hadn’t looked.

His father came back from wherever he had been, paid the bill with tight lips, and then took Steve out to the car. His mother helped him into the seat before covering him with a blanket that he was grateful for. It wasn’t that he was cold, he just didn’t want the chance to look at himself yet. He wanted to do that when he was home, where if he broke down and cried, no one else would know. Or, he wouldn’t have to see them knowing in any case. And that was enough for him.

They stopped for ice cream on the way and Steve asked for a small strawberry cone. Strawberry wasn’t his favorite, but it was what Grandma Marty had all the time, and he missed her even though she didn’t acknowledge him anymore. Wouldn’t answer his calls, wouldn’t call him back. He didn’t even know if she got the letters that Wayne had helped him write.

When they got home, Wayne wasn’t home. Not for the first time, Steve found himself deeply upset by that. He’d never voice it. Adults had responsibilities outside of him. And he knew that he only got about an hour with Wayne a day, maybe two if he was incredibly lucky.

His father came to help him out of the car, because he had more muscle if Steve should happen to fall. He clung to his father’s arm with all the strength that could muster as he walked like a baby giraffe toward their trailer. Well, he called it walking. It was more like wiggling his lower spine and hips while throwing his legs forward. After maybe five steps like that, he found himself being lifted into his father’s impatient arms as he was carried the rest of the way in and sat on the couch.

“Thank you,” Steve said instead of complaining about not being able to use his legs. He had wanted to walk, to prove that he could.

His father simply grunted in response before going to the kitchen to grab a drink. The same way he always did when he was home for the night.

His mother was inside a few minutes behind them, having stopped to talk to a neighbor briefly. She looked at Steve on the couch and tilted her head at him with a calculating look in her eyes.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Yes, please.”

This time, Steve did get to walk on his own two feet to the destination. He was leaning heavily on the wall, almost gripping on to it with one hand as he practically threw himself forward. He was breathless by the time that he got to the bathroom and pain seemed to radiate out through his entire body, starting at his tail bone.

“You can have some meds after your bath,” his mother said gently. “And I’ll get you your refill before dinner, okay? So you don’t have to worry about running out.”

Steve didn’t think it was time to refill his medicine yet, but he didn’t question it. His mom was on top of it. He was a kid who lost track of time a lot.

He sat on the toilet and he watched his mom prepare the bath for him, knowing that she would only let him have the water a little above room temperature. His skin was sensitive and the steam wouldn’t be good for him with the medicine that he was taking. He couldn’t even have hot food without the steam making him nauseous.

Carefully, he was pulled back to his feet and stripped of his clothes before he was helped into the tub that seemed to be more bubble than water. He sat down carefully, wincing a bit as he did so, before letting himself lean back in the water that felt warmer than it probably was because of his weakened, cool skin.

He sighed in contentment as his mother washed his body for the first time in what seemed like years. He was nearing seven years old and thinking about years in the past, it would make his dad laugh if he shared that thought with him, an idea that made him smile.

His mom washed his hair, tilting his head back and using a hand to make sure that no soap got in his eyes that he had squeezed tight. He got to play in the bubbles for a few minutes, his dad standing at the door as his mom got him some comfy clothes and a towel.

It was his dad who dried him off and helped him get into his clothes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said softly. He knew he was expected to thank his dad for everything he did that was above and beyond, which meant he ended up thanking him for everything.

Steve was carried back to his bed, something that he would have whined about if he wasn’t so tired and in so much pain. He was tucked in and his mom came to give him some toast and juice to take his pills with. He knew he was only meant to have one, but he took both that his mother gave him anyway. He washed it away with grape juice and half of the slice of toast she had brought him.

“Thank you, Mommy,” he murmured.

“Get some rest, love,” she replied while kissing his forehead. “You had a big day today.”

Steve nodded in agreement, wishing that it could be that easy to just let the sleep overtake him. He closed his eyes as his mom left the room.

His father checked on him once a day, his mother gave him two pills instead of one, and made sure he at least had breakfast and dinner. One of the neighbors made sure he had lunch and new puzzles to work on, new toys to play with. Steve would wander around the trailer as best as he was able, and Wayne would read to him before he went to bed.

Days turned to weeks like that.

One day, Wayne wasn’t at work and both of Steve’s parents were gone. He wandered over to his bedroom window and opened it wide.

“Mister Wayne, if I can get to the front door, can you help me out?”

His walking was still unsteady and stairs were very difficult for him.

“Are your parents okay with you being outside?” Wayne asked sympathetically.

“Uh. Dad said I could as long as I either finished my puzzle or put it up first.”

Wayne gave him a knowing look. “Okay, you little hellion. But only because I know you’d hurt yourself trying to do it anyway.”

Steve beamed and closed his window most of the way before making his way to the front door. It was a struggle to unlock the door because of the latch chain, but he managed. Wayne was waiting there for him with an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Getting outside used to be easier,” he sighed before reaching out.

“Maybe it’s the weight of knowing that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be,” Wayne teased as he picked Steve up and set him back down on the ground.

“No idea what that means, but thank you for helping me pass the stairs.” Steve grinned widely, the dirt and grass squishing slightly beneath his toes. It felt so good.

“You’re welcome, brat.”

Steve giggled before doing his version of walking. He took maybe ten steps, very much aware of how closely he was being watched. His breath came a little harder from the effort, the times between walking so close together. Shakily, he sat down as carefully as he was able. Movement caught his attention and made his head snap up to look toward Wayne’s trailer.

“You gotta ghost!” He exclaimed.

Wayne laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s the nephew I’ve been telling you about. He’s staying with me for awhile. Treat him like a skittish cat until he’s used to ya, and I’m sure y’all would be good friends.”

“Eddie,” Steve said happily. “Can he come out so I can meet him?”

“I’ll send him out after I smoke my cigarette,” he said as he put more distance between them before lighting up.

“Thank you!”

Steve laid down flat on the grass, spreading his arms and legs out as much as he could without the pain becoming unbearable. It wasn’t very far, but he didn’t care. He got to grip the green strands in his fingers. He got to feel the light and heat of the sun soaking into his skin and settling into his bones. He was beyond convinced that the bright yellow thing in the sky was much more healing than the meds that made him feel tingly from his head to his toes.

He must have fallen asleep like that, because next thing he knew he was being awoken by a toe nudging his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he was met by the most dark, beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Uncle Wayne said you just got released from the mummy’s curse.”

“He said that?”

“Well. He said your name was Steve and you just got a full body cast removed a few weeks ago.”

“That sounds more like him.”

“So…What happened?”

“A lady tried to go bowling with me and her car. The only pin she knocked down was me.”

Eddie snorted. “Shoulda planted your feet more firmly, she woulda gotten a strike.”

Steve’s lips tugged into the widest smile that he had ever had on his face. “My parents don’t like it when I joke about it.”

“Parents are stupid.”

“Yeah. How long are you stayin’?”

“As long as I can.”

Steve hummed in thought. “You any good at reading out loud?”

“Depends. What book?”

“The Hobbit.”

Eddie’s entire face lit up, his huge smile showing off the chipped front tooth. “My favorite book in the entire world? Yeah, I’m pretty good at reading it out loud.”

“We should read to each other. I have troubles with some words, but I am trying.”

“I’d like having someone to read and play with.”

“Oh, uh. Playing is hard for me right now. I’m still trying to get my strength back.”

“It’s okay. We read The Hobbit, we gotta have a pretty good imagination. We can pretend to play.”

Steve blushed and looked away. He never had someone his own age willing to work around his limitations before.

“I heard about a game with dice where we can talk out stuff and the dice decide how well it goes,” Steve said suddenly.

“Dungeons and Dragons!” Eddie apparently decided that he was tired of standing because he flopped down next to him at that. He rolled around in the grass before eventually settling on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I can find a way to make that work with just two people.”

“Oh.”

“Turn that frown upside down, friend. I like a challenge. We’ll make this work because it sounds like fun.”

Steve beamed.

Taglist (let me know if you want added or removed! I was just trying to get who I remembered to seem interested!):

@estrellami-1 @eriquin @epiclazershark @morganski-19 @ellaelsinore @y4r3luv @valinwonderland @thespaceantwhowrites @jackiemonroe5512 @spectrum-spectre @princessstevemunson @ghost--enthusiast @gothwifehotchner @kas-eddie-munson @auroraplume @salisbury-at-the-stake @currently-steddiebrainrot @finntheehumaneater @marshmellowpaint @littlewildflowerkitten @perseus-notjackson @sapphirecobalt-1 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gloomysoup @anne-bennett-cosplayer

[theladyofbloodshed]

You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 11

Azriel this chapter

Warm sunlight found its way through the thin, white drapes. It highlighted the floating specks of dust in the cosy bedroom. Azriel tried to move, but pain lanced through his chest. His fingers sought out the wound that was packed with gauze. The ash arrow that had pierced him had nearly killed him. It would scar too. Another ugly memento of his life. There was little else to show for it.

He glanced about the room. It wasn’t his bedroom, but he knew it to be the town house – which meant they were back in Velaris. Hopefully, safe.

‘Finally awake,’ said Mor.

She leaned against the doorway, a relieved smile upon her face. There were shadows beneath her eyes, likely from sleepless nights.

‘How long have I been out?’

‘Four days, Az.’

Four days? Azriel remembered none of it. After being hit with the ash arrow, everything had gone blank. Wincing, he forced himself to sit up. The whole room spun from the effort.

‘We all got out?’

‘You owe Cass a drink,’ she replied, humour not quite making it to her voice. ‘He threw himself in front of you when the king launched his magic at us.’

Guilt wrenched his gut. ‘He’s alright?’

‘Wings are shredded. Madja is visiting him twice daily. He can’t fly yet, but she’s hopeful. He’s in the room next door, probably still sulking that you got the better bed.’

There was no time to lounge in bed. From Mor’s guarded expression, he knew there was more to it - more to everything – that he needed to uncover. Uneasily, Azriel threw one leg out of the bed to settle his bare foot on the soft carpet below. The whole motion racked him with pain.

‘Rhys? Feyre?’

Mor worried her lower lip. From her expression, he knew she wished she hadn’t come to his room. Azriel knew he was intense. He had always been that way. It had always unnerved her to be alone with him for long.

‘Feyre’s in Spring. Tamlin took her.’

‘What the fuck? Then we go now and we get her back.’

Her hands were splayed in a poor attempt at calming him. ‘Az, we can’t. Rhys is desperate to go, but we have to be diplomatic. We have to plan it carefully.’

‘He has taken Rhysand’s mate.’

‘Tamlin is working with Hybern. Hybern’s forces are already arriving on the border. We cannot go there yet.’

Azriel swore. His shadows were reluctant to come out around Mor; they knew she did not favour them. It meant he had to force himself onto his feet unaided and unsteady. The loose-fitting bottoms would have to do. Azriel yanked open one of the chestnut wooded drawers in search of a garment to throw on top. These were Rhys’ clothes but as long as they had slits for his wings, he didn’t care. When he lifted his arms up to pull the top on, there was an altogether different pain ripping through his body. It reminded him of a bang on glass that sent cracks slithering through it. Another hit and he’d crumble.

‘What is to stop Hybern from tearing down the Wall and sweeping into the mortal lands?’ His voice was hard and sharp, a whetted blade aching for blood. ‘Have we secured the mortal sisters?’

If they hadn’t, Azriel would go straight there and carry them back to Velaris whether they wanted to or not. He would not let them suffer at the hands of Hybern’s barbarians. The sort of torture they would endure would make even him sick.

Mor’s voice came out as a whisper. ‘You don’t remember anything.’

She took a step out of the room, discomfort making her grimace.

‘Mor.’

The tone of his voice made her flinch. Once, he might have apologised. Might have savoured the chance to be close and offer comfort. Azriel felt like a thread pulled too tight, the fibres threatening to snap at every moment. He could not be soft and kind, couldn’t be what Mor wanted him to be right now.

‘Hybern stole the sisters. The king had them put in the Cauldron.’

‘Dead?’

He tracked the bob of her throat as she swallowed.

‘They’re at the House of Wind.’

Too late, too late. Those words echoed in his mind as he staggered forwards into a blur of shadows. They whisked him away, high, high into the air before dropping him above the wards that cradled the House of Wind to prevent winnowing in. Azriel’s wings lurched open with a snap, but his reactions were delayed from his injury. The cold wind whipped at his face and he landed hard on the roof. Another bite of pain shot through his knees from the force.

Too late, too late.

He had vowed to protect them. Promised himself that he would keep them safe.

Without knowing why, he aimed straight for the bedroom on the lower floor, right at the end. His heart was calling him to it.

The door was locked. He shook the handle, tried to force it open over and over, then let out a noise of frustration when it wouldn’t bend to his unyielding will. His scarred knuckles played a frantic rhythm on the door.  

‘Please, open. I know you’re there.’ His voice was hoarse. It barely sounded like him. It was so raw and desperate like a fresh wound. ‘Nesta. Nesta, please.’

The surge of adrenaline that had carried him to the House of Wind faded. Azriel pressed his head to the wooden door and closed his eyes to stop his surroundings from spinning. The ache in chest was unbearable. He knew what it was. Should have known from that first moment in the mortal dining room when her lips had quirked at him and his heart was squeezed from it. Nesta Archeron was his mate. And he had failed her when it mattered most.

‘Az.’

Mor’s voice sounded from the corridor. She beckoned for him to follow, but he was too unsteady. She hooked an arm around him to guide him away to the lounge where he practically collapsed on the green crouch.

‘You’ve trapped them here.’

‘I’ve been coming as often as I can. You’ve both been unconscious. Rhys is wracked with worry and I’ve been trying to stop him from razing the Spring Court to the ground. Amren has been ruling in his stead. I’m exhausted, Azriel.’ Mor threw herself down in the chair beside him. ‘They won’t come out, won’t even speak to me. What am I supposed to do?’

Force open the fucking door, he thought.

‘Come on. I’ll winnow you back to the house.’

Azriel set his jaw. ‘I’m staying here.’

‘There is no point. They will not leave the room.’

‘How do you know they’re not fucking dead in there?’

Mor threw her arms up as she stood, a scowl on her lips. ‘You have no idea what these last few days have been like for me. You can be an insensitive prick sometimes.’

She was still muttering curses as she stalked back up the stairs. Once upon a time, Azriel would have got to his knees and begged her for forgiveness, but it wasn’t her forgiveness he needed to earn.

***

Loud. Everything was loud. The sound of her heart. The sound of Elain’s.

The eternal thrum of them made Nesta sick.

Nesta had tried to open the window, but the height had made her uneasy then the sounds of the city below were loud enough to be beside her.

Everything was too bright, too loud, too much.

Her limbs were too long, movements too quick.

Nesta pressed herself against the wall, sucking in breaths to calm her racing heart that sounded like a thunderclap in her head.

Each time that Azriel hammered on the door, it was akin to hammering against her temples. She’d wanted to scream at him for the noise, wanted to wrap a pillow over her head and rage until her throat bled. She could hear him arguing with Morrigan, every word crisp and clear, as if it was in the same room that she resided.

All Elain did was sleep. She slept now, despite the noise. Slept deeply as one enchanted. Day or night, she remained in the bed, sleeping, always sleeping.

The healer had seen them on their first night, when they were still wet and shaking from the Cauldron that had stolen their lives, and declared they were the healthiest they had ever been.

‘Nothing is wrong with them,’ she had said.

Everything was wrong. Everything was wrong.

Nothing would ever be right again.

***

After forcing food that tasted like ash down his throat, Azriel remained sat on the floor outside of their bedroom. Occasionally, he heard the soft step of Nesta’s feet. Heard her breathing. There were never any words exchanged between the sisters. Never an attempt to leave the bedroom. They were entombed in it. Two sisters trapped for an eternity as the things they hated.

It was growing dark when Rhys appeared a few feet from him. His own demons plagued him; Azriel knew it from the unkempt hair, the unshaven face, and shadowed eyes.

‘They won’t come out, Az. Not even for a pretty face like yours.’

‘Why aren’t they in the river house?’

Why have you hidden them away here like something rotten, something to be forgotten.

‘When Feyre became high fae, everything was loud, she said. They need to adjust to their heightened senses. It would be too much to put them in the river house. They’re safe here.’

Azriel shook his head in disagreement. The House of Wind was a prison to sisters without wings or the ability to winnow. Ten thousand steps were a punishment that would break even him.

‘You don't have to sit here and punish yourself. None of this is your fault, Az. You were hit. It was an ambush. We’re lucky you’re still with us.’

Azriel threw Rhys’ hand off of his shoulder. It was his fault. He was the one who provided the intel. The one who had watched the meticulous change of the guards each night, passed along every scrap of information that his spies had gleaned like a good, little spy.

‘I should have been at the house instead. I should have protected them.’

Rhys gave a slow shake of his head. ‘Then you’d be dead.’

‘I’d be a martyr rather than a failure.’

[javipispunk]

PINE SYRUP

Chapter Three: Depreciated

Jackson Era! Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Through the cold and desperation the pine needles do not fall. The needles are sharp and bitter to ward off strangers, yet with tender care they make the richest syrup.

Warnings: angst, cursing, smoking, reader self-depreciation, mean!joel, age gap (27/56), enemies to lovers, late 90’s music reference

A/N: Been listening to Me and Big Dave by Colter Wall on repeat and also watching Shaq highlights so that explains that bit. Also need to get my angst out so instead of writing papers for school I am writing this. As always lmk what you think! MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.3K

Masterlist

The next morning you were up before sunrise because Tommy wanted to meet with you by the stables again. You managed to make some coffee and look semi presentable in your exhausted state. The night had not been kind to you.

You got to the stables and were met with a large man. He introduced himself as Big Dave. He was a colossus of a man. Bigger than Joel. Big Dave seemed like he was about 7 foot and in all honesty you couldn't help but think he looked like Shaq. Your brother used to have a poster of Shaq in his room, it was small details like that that you remember from before. They would come in all of a sudden suffocating you. Thankfully this memory didn’t make you feel dizzy.

“Anyone ever told you you look like Shaquille O'Neal?”

Big Dave laughed and instead of answering your question he said “Aren’t you a little young to know who that is?”

Before you could answer you spotted Joel. Excitement coursed through your veins thinking about the night prior.

“Mornin’ Joel.” You said with a small smile and a nod. He walked right past you, not even remotely looking in your direction. You laughed, like really laughed. Not even 14 hours ago this man's fingers were between your legs and now he wouldn’t look at you. If he wasn’t gonna talk to you, you weren’t gonna talk to him. After all, you were a stubborn motherfucker, hell that's half the reason you were still alive. You guessed last night was just a little hit it and quit it action. It wasn't surprising since he left in a hurry, yet he still kissed your cheek. It was too intimate for just a casual hookup.

Big Dave looked at you with his eyebrows raised. You just shrugged your shoulders. Then Tommy rounded the corner. He told you you were going to patrol with Joel today to learn routes and get the lay of the land.

“I don’t think that's a good idea Tommy.”

“Still bickering with him?”

“More or less.” You huffed

“Don’t worry. He’ll come around.”

Yeah when he wants to fuck someone you thought. From your interactions with him and heard whispers around Jackson he was a violent man. But you were a violent woman. And in this state of the world it didn’t matter to you much. There was a difference between being violent and being an asshole. Violence was needed to survive, being an asshole was not. To be fair you had your streaks of cruelty, how could you not? But never ever had you pretended like someone didn’t exist the day after kissing someone. Yes you might be avoidant but certainly not rude.

“Well that's my cue to leave,” Big Dave said. “Good luck out there.” He patted you on the back and it almost sent you flying. Tommy chuckled.

Then you headed into the stables and got saddled up. Joel was already to go and gave you a look that said ‘hurry the fuck up or else.’ You gave him a ‘what’s it to you’ look in response. This was gonna be a long day. 7 in the morning and you already felt like you needed a drink, or a cigarette. Once you were situated Joel was out of there in a heartbeat and you hurried to catch up with him

At the gates you asked him which way to go. He answered with a point of his finger. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t use his words when he seemed to have endless things to say last night.

You continued on for about a half hour, with him just pointing to signal which paths to go down. You were bored out of your mind. Thoughts were swirling and you needed something to distract you. So you began thinking of songs. The first one that popped into your head was My Own Worst Enemy by Lit. You started humming. You were barely three seconds in when Joel spoke for the first time this morning.

“Quit humming.”

You let out a huff. “10-4 good buddy.” You said while sticking a thumbs up behind him. And then like the little shit you were, you started to sing. He didn’t say to keep quiet, he just said to stop humming.

“PLEASE TELL ME WHYYYY”

“STOP” he yelled. “For fucks say, didn’t no one teach you to keep quiet.”

“Didn’t no one teach you to not be such an ass.”

He stopped his horse and turned around to face you. “Look I’m not in the mood for bickering so I suggest you keep your mouth shut girl.” He said while pointing a finger at you. You gave him the nastiest look you could muster and then spat on the ground. Pissed wasn’t even the right word to explain how you felt. You wanted to argue more but knew it was probably smart not to. So you sat up high on your horse, he sat higher, the phrase ‘up on your high horse’ wasn’t lost on you. Like always you let the anger sit, clenching your teeth, wondering when you would finally snap and let it pour out like blood from a stab wound.

It came an hour later. The loneliness that was threaded through you started to rear its ugly head. The quiet was too loud. You had the instinct to run, to have the loneliness be of your own doing and not someone else’s. But you didn’t wanna break Maria and Tommy’s trust and coming back to a warm house seemed nicer than being lost in the woods. Your hands started to shake with frustration and your breathing became labored. You tried to calm down. Joel was the only person out here you could inflict your violence on when you finally lost it but that would probably end in your death. He must have heard you struggling to breathe because he turned around to look at you. At first he looked annoyed and then he looked concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh now you fucking talk.” You laughed. “What's it to you huh bud?” You reached into your bag to find a cigarette and a lighter.

“Well bud.” He emphasized. “You sound like you can’t breathe and I’d rather not have you keeling over.”

“I ain’t about to keel over.” You said while lighting the dart.

“Maybe you can’t breathe cause you’re smoking those things.” Joel said with returned anger.

“Or maybe it’s cause I’m trying not to punch you in your fucking face.” You muttered under your breath. Your breathing had steadied and your hands weren’t shaking as bad. He turned back around, deciding not to ‘bicker’ with you anymore, since that seemed his least favorite thing to do. You took a long drag and exhaled letting the smoke swirl around you in the cold air. After a couple hundred yards you and Joel reached a clearing. He looked out over the land like he owned it. You looked out over it like it could be an escape.

Like he could read your mind he spoke without looking at you. “Don’t think about it.” You didn’t answer, instead opting to put your cig out on your boot and stick the butt into your pocket. It may be the apocalypse but you didn’t like littering. “You’re gonna lead on the way back, see if you were paying attention.”

“I was.” You said and then added quietly but still loud enough for him to hear, “Like I had fuck all else to do.” Then you turned your horse around and headed back down the trail, Joel following close behind. You could feel him scrutinizing you. Don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up, you repeated to yourself. You lied to Joel, you hadn’t been completely paying attention, too busy trying not to scream at him or run away. It didn’t seem like it would be hard to get back, you hadn’t made any crazy turns or anything, and you knew you had headed due East out of Jackson and the sun hadn’t gotten to its highest point so you just had to go where the sun wasn’t. Which was easy enough. At least you thought until you made the wrong turn.

“No.” Joel said.

“No what.” Shit you definitely fucked up. Time to pretend you didn’t.

“You went the wrong way.”

Time to go on the defensive. “Well I can’t do anything right can I?”

“No, you can’t. I’m leading now.” And then just like that he started to go in the other direction. You did not. You stayed where you were, seething. Tears threatened to spill. After taking a deep breath, you decided you had no choice but to follow him. But you were still frozen, you mind said to go after him but your body wouldn’t listen. It was taking too long for you to follow Joel and if you knew anything about him it's that he was an impatient man. “You fucking coming or not? Cause I don’t mind leaving you out here.”

This struck something in you and you jerked out of your frozen daze. “You want me gone, I'm gone.” You swung your leg around to get off the horse.

“No.”

“Watch me.” You sounded like a child, bitching like that but you didn’t care.

“For fucks sake woman. Stay on that damned horse or so help me God.” You wanted to punch his pretty fucking face in, but at least he called you woman instead of girl. That was an improvement. Against every fiber of your being you followed him. Thankful for the quiet this time, knowing surely you would cry if you opened your mouth. It never used to be like this with your cousin. You were partners out there, working together to stay alive. With Joel it felt like he resented you because he felt like he had to protect you. Once you started thinking about that the tears finally started to fall. Yet still you kept quiet. Joel would not know you were upset, he would not know that you were confused and lonely.

But of course it didn’t work like that because nothing ever did. He turned around.

You pointed your finger at him. “Don’t fucking say anything and leave me alone. I don’t wanna be here just as much as you don’t want me here so let's just keep it at that.” Yet he didn’t turn back around, he stopped his horse.

“Sweetheart.” He looked at you with so much pity. It only made more tears fall, you felt so small.

“No. Don’t pretend to be nice now. I don’t need your pity.” You maneuvered your horse around his to lead the way, fingers crossed that you could figure your way back. And this way he couldn’t see your face. The next hour and a half was gonna be long, that was for sure. Especially because you didn’t like Joel on your six. Yes it was good because he would be able to notice something going on behind you better than you could. But him being behind you also meant he could attack you without warning. You knew it wouldn’t happen, or at least you hoped it wouldn’t. That fear of your surroundings and needing to jump into action always took over when you knew you weren’t 100 percent safe. Deep down you knew it was nothing against Joel, just the way things were. But in this moment everything was his fault. His fault for seducing you, his fault for making you angry, his fault for your fuck ups.

Somehow you managed to make it back without crying, talking to Joel or getting lost. You got away from him as fast as you could. Basically cantering towards the stables you got off the horse while it was still moving. Then you walked it quickly to its paddock and shut the gate. Big Dave showed up on the other side of the gate.

“You in a rush?” He asked.

“More or less.” You said trying to sound indifferent as you untacked the horse as fast as you could.

“You just trying to get away from Miller?”

“That obvious?” You said while chuckling.

He reached to open the door. “I’ll take care of this. Go on and get some food or a drink or somethin.” You smiled.

“I won���t say no to that.” Big Dave came in and you handed him the reins. After that he patted you on your back. Before you could leave he leant down to whisper in your ear. “If it’s any consolation I think he’s just not sure how to talk to you. You’re a strong woman.”

You froze. “What?”

Big Dave straightened up without offering further explanation. Then he ushered you out and got to work on the horse. Joel was still untacking his horse when you walked by hurriedly. You weren’t looking at him so you couldn’t tell that he was adamantly staring at you.

[gimmiesomehoneynsugar]

It Lead to this

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Rocket/Gn Reader! Word count 2087 updated version oops

A week has passed since you’ve seen Rocket, you’ve texted him the odd amount with photos of your lunch and little plants you find around your job, and he replied with either the thumbs-up emoji or just left on read. This would’ve annoyed you before but now with everything cleared up between you two, all you can do is accept it and sigh continuing your shift.

As the hours fly by, you pack up your stuff and say goodbye to your coworkers, you slowly walk down the street and through the plaza, and you see the local bars and restaurants open up it’s been a while since you’ve gone out by yourself, and you were craving a milky fizz vodka and roasted zargnuts.

You head to your apartment, you got out of your work clothes and into your favourite tight black shirt n pants, you look in the mirror and realise the only reason you felt confident in these clothes was Rocket boasting about you in the clothes all while complimenting you.

His eyes wouldn't leave you until you left the room, even in a crowded space he could spot you out of the corner of his eye that's how infatuated he is with you. You sighed into your hands then throwing your head back you thought to yourself, tonight is about you, not some guy who's not interested.

You put on some light makeup, mascara and highlighter, you felt confident, stunning even and with your shoes on and your wallet in your hand you leave, now walking to your local bar.

You walk through the door yelling at the bartender for a Milky Fizz Vodka and some zargnuts roasted, they give you a thumbs up and as you walk to the corner barstool you hear some familiar voices coming from the booth beside your seat. You turn your head slightly and in the corner of your eye, you see Drax, Nebula and Rocket all in a booth chatting it up.

You think to yourself ‘You gotta be kidding me,’ as the bartender hands you your food and drink. You quickly turn your head back, you'd leave the by now or say hi but a little bit of you wants to snoop you can’t help but eavesdrop, also tonight is about you, and self-love, you don’t want to involve yourself with Rocket right now.

“Drax, Nebula I don’t know how you deal with all those little demons, dealing with all the animals is easier than those... kids,” Rocket speaks in a sarcastic tone taking a swig of his drink.

“Rocket there are our children, they have names, I’d like you to respect them,” Nebula scoffs, crossing her arms.

“You have over fifty children! How am I supposed to remember them all?” He exclaims gesturing with his hands.

“I’ve memorised all my children's names, you're just incompetent Rocket, Although I do wish Mantis was here with us,” says Drax, grabbing a fistful of zargnuts.

“Well she gotta discover herself yknow, maybe she got a lover or a hobby, who knows she might even visit us in the future,” says Rocket as he signs looking out the window all while swirling his drink.

“Hahaha! You seem to think she's doing better than you?” Drax practically yells while Nebula shakes her head in disagreement.

“What, what are going on about, I’m doing great, fantastic even?” he asked, focusing on the conversation.

“I say that Mantis might already have a mate Rocket, you should look for a suitable life partner too, you might be small but some people can get past that” Drax claims as he downs his drink, all while Nebula rolls her eyes.

He looks a little shocked at first but after a second of silence looking at his drink.

“Well… maybe, I have thought of that kinda stuff,” he says, sipping on his drink and avoiding eye contact with Drax and Nebula.

Overhearing their conversation on dating leads to you choke on your drink, you grab a napkin and cough into it still trying to overhear the convo. But honestly, it’s pissing you off more than you realise, you were now okay with not dating Rocket or being that close to him but now his attitude of wanting to date utterly infuriates you.

What was the point of the whole conversation you had with him if he was gonna turn around and say this? Maybe you just weren't what he was looking for other than to screw you. But why all the gifts and dates, was I a hooker?

As you are about to pay for your drink and go home in a salty mood, a random man sits next to you.

“Are you an alien?” He says leaning one hand on the bar looking you up and down not hiding the fact he is staring right at your chest.

“Cause you abducted my heart the moment I walked in,” he says while smirking thinking he nailed it, what kind of confidence does he have to think that would really work?

You couldn’t help but crack up giggling trying to cover your mouth. Just the sheer amount of cheesiness is enough to make you cringe in a laughable way.

“Don’t you think that a bit racist?” you asked looking at him fully, seeing he was clearly drunk, not bad looking but a little too sloppy drunk for your taste all while Rocket, Nebula and Drax saw, Rocket's jaw dropped as he realised you’d been there the entire time and heard everything, he gulps thinking he should pretend he doesn't know you for the sake of him not having to explain his whole confusing relationship with you.

You quickly glance at the three of them with a grin, looking at Rocket's nervous face made you grin and now all you wanted to do was to mess with him.

“Just Kidding, care to buy me my next drink?” you asked, smirking with your lip now on the cusp of your drink, signalling to this guy he could have a chance. He sighs in relief of not offending you and calls over the bartender.

As Nebula n Drax continue their convo about how their children are, Rocket can’t help but stare in anger at you talking to this stranger, he’s more pissed than anything but realised he kinda caused it a little.

He mumbles under his breath ‘If he tries any more flirty shit with you i’ll rip him a new one’. Rocket was staring so sharply at you he could burn a hole between both of your heads, you again glance over to see Rocket seething showing off the bitchiest bitch face you’ve ever seen.

You honestly couldn’t help but smirk at him biting your lips softly and quietly moaning into your cup at him. If any of your teasing was going to rile up Rocket it’d be this.

He sees you clearly teasing him, he is just one moment away from pulling you out of that bar or dragging you into an alleyway to devour and punish you.

“So what’s your name dolly?” The guy asked you, slurring his words.

“Don’t call me dolly my name is-,”

“Whatever lemme tell you dolly about my weapons, I’m a bounty hunter and I enjoy the hunt of shitheads you know,” he interrupts you now going on and on about his recent bounties he’s completed, nothing impressive just the average thief, while drinking the milky fizz he bought for you.

“Ah okay…” you say now ready to leave, as you get up basically sneaking past this guy, he grabs your forearm.

“Where do you think you're going dolly?” He asks, squeezing your arm tight, enough for it to hurt.

You crunched your face, ‘what a slob’ you thought.

“Mind letting go asshole?” you said loudly pulling your arm out of his grasp, leaving a sore red handprint.

“What’s the problem babe? We were having fun,” he scoffs frowning.

After you pull away now everyone has either glanced over or just waiting to see what happens next, Nebula and Drax looked over a little concerned but they go back to their conversation, yet Rocket snapped over this.

With the most infuriated look on his face, he jumps off his booth seat now hopping up to the seat you were just on, getting between you and the guy.

“Who the fuck are you to boss them around, also don’t call them dolly!” says Rocket, bearing his teeth with his hand hovering over his holster.

“Rocket what are you doing? I can handle this myself!” you walk around to face him, can tonight get any worse?

“Yeah listen to Dolly Rodent, I'll call them whatever I want, and what even are you some kind of monster?” he chuckles looking at Rocket curiously, trying to figure out what he is through his beer goggles.

“The fuck you say?” you slam your hand down between them separating the both of them while Nebula and Drax stare while eating zargnuts it’s first-class seats to this confusing drama.

The man flinches back a little after your burst of rage, yet after the acts of aggression to his life, he still has the audacity to ogle at your chest. You’d have enough, with all your anger you swing a punch to his jaw causing him to fall off his seat, your knuckles now bruised up with torn skin, “Piece of fucking shit,” you say as you spit on him and pay the barkeep.

You’ve just seen your hand, it’s started to bleed after you handed over the units. ‘Shit’ you mumble as you grab your stuff, quickly glancing at Rocket before rushing out of the bar.

“Wait, where are you going, wait!,” Rocket yelps chasing after you, forgetting all about Nebula and Drax who are still eating and enjoying this drama.

As Rocket follows you to the dock for the ships he questions why you would come here. You paced over to your ship, it wasn’t anything fancy, your ship wasn't big or shiny just comfy enough for you to travel long distances. You click your remote and a bridge comes out and the door to your ship opens.

“What are you doing, where are you going?!” He asks you huffing, catching his breath completely confused.

“Rocket I’m confused you confuse me, I don’t get you I’d admit I don’t understand you,” You look back at him with frustration riddling your face.

“What are you going on about, you’ve gone crazy,” He says confused and worried, like you could do something drastic.

“What you said at the bar to Drax and Nebula, then defending me, I thought you didn’t want to date me but, fuck man I feel lead on I don’t get you.” You yell at him, and everyone around is now staring, they probably think of this as a lover's quarrel.

“That’s! That’s.. look I admit I don’t know what these feelings are but whenever I see you with someone else like that dickhead calling you dolly ugh! It infuriates me. I nearly killed that bastard if you didn’t punch him, speaking of which doll why did you punch him?” He asked you now with his hand on his hip.

“Well, news flash Rocket, I LIKE YOU,” you yelled so loud it has a slight echo through the dock.

“I like you so much Rocket and from what you just said, I think you do too! but you need to realise that yourself and I ain't not waiting any longer, I'm out!” You say to him now with your hands on your hips.

“Out what do you mean out?!” he asked tilting his head.

“I’m going to stay at my sister's for a while on Terra, Earth!,” you exclaimed throwing a small tracking device to him.

“When you figure out your emotions for me and yourself come get me, if I don’t see you in a month well we're through," now wiping away a small tear of your cheek, you walk over to him and kiss his forehead holding his face.

You walk back onto your ship looking back at him, he seems quite shocked and confused you can see the cogs turn in his brain with a hopeless look on his face.

You shut your ship's door, and a waterfall of tears burst from your eyes, you pace over to the cockpit sitting down on your lonesome chair and as you start the course for Terra, home.

[kryptonitejelly]

Sparks Fly | Mini-series | Masterlist 

Sparks Fly | Mini-series | Masterlist Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; angst; fluff; slow burn; enemies to lovers Warnings: general hangman being hangman; general cursing; tension; fem!reader; use of terms of endearment (i.e. darlin, sweetheart, etc); general naval / flying inaccuracies; general US government / department of justice / procedural / ethics and conflict of interests inaccuracies Length: Mini-series (see chapter list below)

DISCLAIMER: all work posted here is purely fanfiction; it does not in any way purport to be an accurate representation of real life or the general workings of any institution.

A/N: I need to highlight “enemies to lovers” - soooo it won’t have the same vibe as Flyboy. If you want - please feel free to let me know what you think of this idea!

Jake Seresin Masterlist

STATUS:

Series - ongoing

Follow the tag “Sparks Fly Fic” for updates!

Summary: A mission gone wrong results in the deaths of 3 Naval Aviators from the VFA-151 Vigilantes; their bodies, unrecovered. Only Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin, mission leader, returns home alive, and unscathed after making the call that ultimately resulted in the death of his fellow teammates. His case is put to the test, and he is cleared of all wrongdoing by the Navy.

However, in light of increasing scrutiny, higher government forces order that he be shadowed, the observations regarding his behaviour and the workings of the Naval Aviators as a whole to be reported back to the US Department of Defense at the end of 6 months.

The Department of Justice assigns you, an up and coming prosecutor, who remembers Jake Seresin not-so-fondly from college, to his case. Tensions are high and trouble ensues; Jake gets called back to TOPGUN during this period; how will you both get through the 6 months and will you both come out unscathed?

CHAPTERS:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Epilogue

Series taglist: @dempy @indynerdgirl @bxwitched @andreaaamustdie @shanimallina87 @jakexfmc @itzyogurl92 @hope-love-equality2 @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @obiwankenobis-lap

Last updated: 31 August 2022

[idontknowreallywhy]

Best Jupidad Moments #3 Nevermoor Ch 5&6 - “Welcome to your New Life. Ps. You’re Loved Now.”

I could legitimately quote the whole chapter here, but as promised just picking out some highlights…

He paused to slip out of his tailored blue overcoat and drape it around Morrigan’s shoulders. It was much too long for her, and her arms didn’t quite reach the end of the sleeves, but she hugged it close, revelling in its warmth. Jupiter ran one hand through his wilting coppery updo and, taking Morrigan’s hand with the other, led her along the chilly streets as the sky began to lighten.

This scene melts my heart. Of course he makes sure she’s not cold… that much is unsurprising, but what’s lovely isn’t so much the fact he gives her his coat, it’s her reaction to it. I don’t think it’s only the physical warmth of Jupiter’s coat she revels in here. It’s the emotional warmth - affection, understanding, concern for her welfare, encouragement, even joy - that he’s introduced into her world over the last hour or so, and which she’s been starved of her whole life.

And look, he’s leading her by the hand again.

Then Jupiter turned to look back up at her. She waited for him to say something, but he was silent. No words of encouragement. No persuasion or reassurance. He simply watched, waiting to see what she would do.

This is a surprising one - you might have thought he’d have given her a big grin and shouted “Don’t worry! You can do this! I’m right here!” etc etc. But his words might have crowded out the process she was going through in her mind, and may have made it harder for her to come to the realisation she wanted to do this. The only contribution he makes now is his presence and his attention.

Morrigan let Jupiter’s overcoat fall in a pile at her feet. Climbing on to the balustrade, she opened her new oilskin umbrella with shaking hands.

So this is a decision Morrigan has to make on her own. Jupiter isn’t going to carry her or hold her hand this time. The fact she sheds his warm overcoat symbolises this. She does, however, need the new tool he’s gifted her to be able to make the jump.

It’s a bit like the parent-child relationship on fast forward! You can only do so much for your child, at some point you have to stand back and let them live their own best life. The overcoat was a temporary gift to shield and protect her from the external chill until she was ready. The permanent gift of the umbrella is Jupiter enabling Morrigan to fly on her own.

Only Jupiter stood still, watching Morrigan, his face a mixture of pride, relief and admiration. Nobody in the world had ever looked at her that way.

This brief moment where the two of them are almost frozen in time with each other while everyone else goes mad around them is just perfect. It would be cinematic gold.

It gives us an insight into Jupiter’s emotions too - we can obviously imagine how relieved Morrigan is right now, but Jupiter has been planning this for a year or more and there were a few moments where it was looking a touch hairy - the relief that it worked out would be extreme.

I think he’s also relieved that she made the jump too - it demonstrates that she hasn’t ended up as broken, untrusting, unwilling to take risks as her upbringing might have made her.

And remember how much more he can see when he looks at her - amongst all her emotions he can see her joy at being alive, and that must fill him with relief too.

She marched over to where he stood, unsure whether to throw her arms around him or push him into the fountain. In the end she did neither. ‘Happy New Age’ were the words Morrigan spoke.

But the words in her heart were ‘I’m alive’.

I love both of the options she considers here as both are so comfortable and familial. He’s probably the first person she’s ever wanted to hug. And he’s the first person she’d ever have felt safe enough with to push him into a fountain in fun. In the end she does neither, but elects to say the three words she’d spent her whole life believing she was doomed to neither say nor hear… and that’s a triumph for both of them.

[jjtheclown555]

Mother Dearest Pt.3

Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

tw. strange and unusual punishments?? lmk if i missed anything but this is a light chapter

content. haitani brothers mother raises them after they are released from prison

pairings. none, just a mother raising her boys

word count. 1.6k words

a/n. ik its been like half a year but the bitch is back😭not my best work but still a fun read if say

As Rindou goes through excuse after excuse, I remember a certain place near where we promised to meet Izana, a place that might just convince her to let us go. I take a deep breath to focus myself enough to begin my acting. I’m so sorry, Rindou. “Look, mom, he wanted to get a waxing and so I told him the salon I go to has great reviews for it,” Rindou glares at me, like he wants to rip my arm out of my socket like he would with whoever we fight. I continue explaining, “He was embarrassed to tell you because he thought it was ‘girly,’ so he tried to find an excuse.” I feel a little guilty for embarrassing him but the sight of him fuming with rage, trying so hard not to show it is so amusing that not laughing takes every bit of willpower in me.

When mom bursts out laughing, I know we might be in the clear. When she laughs it either means it was so stupid it was believable or that we must be stupid to think she’d believe us. I pray for the former. I pray to whatever god exists that she doesn’t call my bluff. “Rin, baby, don’t assume I’d ever judge you for what you're interested in!” I finally breathe properly, exhaling the air I didn’t even realize was caught in my throat. Rindou seems to ease the humiliation he has felt, I’m almost upset I don’t get to see that pissed-off face anymore. Mom starts the car, pulling out of the driveway as I smile in victory.

She starts taking us to the salon, humming along to the music for a few moments before asking, “So, boys,” She pauses as she turns onto another road, “I’ve been looking to get my hair done recently, you wouldn’t mind if I came in with you, right?” I curse the world, god, the universe, or whatever higher power decided to make it so even with my plan, I still couldn’t get her. I think of a way to get out of this, to work around this mess. “So?”

I think fast, conjuring up any kind of way to be away from her. I fly through thousands of possibilities in a matter of seconds, promptly blurting out, “That’d be fine right, Rin?” He nods, screaming at the thought of actually having to get himself waxed. “Sounds good, I was planning on getting something done but my favourite stylist is all booked so I can just wait in the car until you two are done.” Rindou grimaces, a slight smile pulling through when mom looks at him. She looks excited, Rin less so and I smile when I’m confident that—at Rindou’s expense—I can actually go where I need to. He looks less than happy with me but I couldn’t care less. He should be grateful that at least one of us can meet with Izana.

She talks about what she’s getting done, she’s talking about highlights and maybe a haircut as I message Izana that I’m coming but Rindou can’t. He asks why and I insist on explaining when I get there. I wait in the car, talking to mom and Rindou. She does most of the talking. I love when mom rambles. She could make watching paint dry interesting, always telling stories and making jokes like it’s second nature to her. She stops the car in the parking lot, getting out with Rindou and telling me to wait until they’re done. So, I wait. I wait until I see them get settled. Once I see a stylist attend to mom and Rin look back at me like he’s going to break my neck when this is all over, I leave the car and walk to the bridge above the train tracks where they wanted to meet me.

I sneak under the bridge through the hole in the fence, marvelling at the graffiti covering it as I inhale what smells like a combination of smoke, dirt, and weed. I see Izana and Kakucho, I smile as they question why Rindou didn’t come. “Our mother,” I start, sitting next to one of the support beams, “I had to make up an excuse to leave but then she insisted on going in with Rindou so only I could come. I’ll let him know whatever you say here, though.” I smile, it’s insincere, but I know it makes me come off as a good follower and at this point, that attitude benefits me.

They go on about Izana’s plans. He intends on going after Toman, Mikey in particular. I pay attention, I don’t particularly like Toman so crushing them works for me. I don’t really care about their motives either, whatever reason Izana has to hate Mikey or why Kakucho is so loyal. I genuinely don’t care but this fight will benefit me, and as much as I admire their strength, I don’t know them enough to give a shit. Maybe that’ll change, but I don’t see that happening.

“If that’s all then I’ll go now,” I say, heading back up to the bridge as they follow behind. Once we get back up, we say our goodbyes, ready to part ways when I hear someone scream my name. Well, Fuck me. I see mom driving over, getting out of the car and running over as Rindou saunters behind, head down in shame. “The fuck is this, Ran?” She questions, Izana and Kakucho backing away as I try to speak. “You two, stay here. And I don’t want to hear any lip outta you, Ran, so unless it’s an explanation then zip it.” She’s firm, and we cooperate. I told them a bit about my mom while we were detained together so they know she won’t do shit unless they try something first. She smiles, taking a few deep breaths before saying, “Get in the car, I’ll take you boys home.” They look hesitant but I tell them to just listen and do it so they avoid trouble.

We all get in the car. Me trying to get the back seat when mom orders me next to her. It makes sense knowing her, I’m in the deepest shit here. I sit quietly but she hums to the song on the radio through gritted teeth. She asks where she’s taking Izana and Kakucho, driving in their direction first. I can already tell I’m in for a long lecture when we’re home. “So, how’d you know, mom?” She laughs, insisting it was obvious from the beginning and she was interested in humouring the lie. “But, how’d you get Rin to talk?” I can see her roll her eyes in the mirror, subtly reminding me of every little thing she’s gotten Rindou to fess up to.

“So, why did Ran leave the car?”

Rindou sits shocked as a younger lady lathers his leg up with hot wax. He starts thinking that Ran humiliating him and forcing him to go through this pain will be useless. He looks over at her and she smiles. He knows that smile. The smile that spreads across her face when she knows she’s won. He only has one shot, it has to be fast and it has to make sense. “He probably just went to the coffee shop across the street, or ran away ‘cause he knows I’ll kill him for telling you.” Mom chuckles as Rindou prays she doesn’t call his bluff. She keeps looking out the window, watching Ran walk right past the coffee shop and over to the highway.

Rindou takes a deep breath, bracing for impact. He can feel the wax strips placed along his legs. He’s on the verge of fessing up when mom says, “Rip as hard as you can, hun, he’ll be all good.” He tries to muffle his scream before Rindou blurts out, “He went to meet with some people about an upcoming fight, now can we get this over with-” Mom nods, letting poor Rindou get through it as fast as possible, stopping part way through and waiting for moms highlights to be done.

“I didn’t wanna tell her but she tortured me,’ Rindou said, staring out the window. Mom grins from ear to ear, dropping off Izana and Kakucho at some apartment building. I’m confident it’s not where they’re staying but honestly, it’s better for them that our mother doesn’t know where they live. They get out of the car, muttering thank you’s for bringing them home.

Mom stops them before they can close the door. She gives them a look, one that means she’s upset but still cares. Her brows furrow, a half-hearted smile creeps on her face as a sigh escapes her lips. “I know I’m not your momma, but you boys try to stay outta trouble, alright?” They both nod, closing the car door and walking off. She starts the car, driving Rindou and I home. The moment she starts moving, her smile drops and she makes a quick turn to look at each of us. “You boys are in so much trouble when you get home.” Here we go, again.

[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 12b

ARC image by Eury Escodero

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Tony, Yinsen, and Emory attempt to escape the cave.

Length: 3,333

Tags (please don’t hesitate to ask!): @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @starksbf @themaradaniels @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

I wrote a little meta post about the moment in the gif above, and highlight the line of dialogue I reference in this chapter. It would mean a lot to me if you'd check it out!

Excerpt:

“Get down, cover your head, and stay at least ten feet back, preferably around a corner. Keep sending bursts of air behind you just in case, got it?”

“Got it,” she says.

Tony makes short work of the three men who are trying to advance on him. Their bullets bounce right off of him, but the strikes he makes with his massive metal arms knock them out cold. As he looks toward the twisting path ahead of him, Tony feels a rush of wind fly past him, and smiles, inside the helmet.

“Need a recharge? You look gorgeous, even when you’re filthy,” he yells back at her.

“Gee, thanks. Right back at you, champ!” 

He’s not sure there isn’t a residual effect just from osmosis, there, because Tony definitely feels a surge of something. Out of nowhere, he wonders if he can persuade Rhodey to let them fly back on his own personal jet, once they’re found. It has a bed.

Chapter Twelve: The Solar Illuminance Constant (Esc)

Yinsen’s barely gotten any of the screws tightened with the electric drill when they hear shouts outside the door. Tony can only understand the names they’re yelling; ‘Yinsen’ and ‘Stark.’ He jerks his head at Emory to back away from the door, and look down at Yinsen.

“Say something!” Tony tells him, hating the anger in his voice, but they’re all on edge, and for the first time, this rock-solid fatherly man looks like he’s about to fall apart from stress.

“They’re speaking Hungarian! I don’t speak--”

“You telling me you don’t know any--” Tony scoffs, and Yinsen calls out, his voice cracking and anxious. He’s fumbling at the screws, but still getting them tightened, at least.

“I don’t think that worked,” Emory says.

It’s then that Tony finally remembers the makeshift armor he’d made for her. “Shit. Emory, run. Over to my cot, there’s something under there you --it’ll be better than nothing.”

“What about the door?” Yinsen says, aghast, but Emory dashes over and gets the heavy mashup of metal and fabric, backing away just in time.

The large explosion blasts the doors out. Tony’s eyes are fixed on Emory; he’s basically locked in place by the not even half-fastened suit, so he can’t see what’s happening behind him. He watches as Emory throws a hand out, pushing a gust of wind against the blast.

“Anthony Stark, you did not!” she says when she gets a clear look at the garment.

“I did. Put it on,” Tony orders, looking down at Yinsen. “How’d that work?” he asks, meaning the results of the explosion.

“Oh, my goodness!” Yinsen says when he looks. “It worked, all right.”

“That’s what I do,” Tony says. He says them like it’s nothing, but the words hurt. He doesn’t want to be this person anymore, the warmonger, the Merchant of Death, but to escape and make changes, he’s going to have to fully embrace that persona. “Initialize the power sequence, it can run while we get the rest of the screws.”

Tony can’t see Emory anymore, but he’s got to focus on the boot-up or this is all for nothing anyway. With as calm and reassuring a voice as he can, he talks Yinsen through the process. Once that’s started, he suggests tightening every other hex bolt. He can hear the sound of angry yelling out in the cave proper; it’s only a matter of time before they show up en masse.

This will be very close.

“Emory?” Tony still can’t see her. She may be their only defense if the suit isn’t fully initialized by the time the goons show up.

She comes out wearing the outfit. It looks great, even though she’s still wearing his pants underneath. Her hands are on her hips. “When did you have time to--”

“Had to be sneaky,” he says. He can’t shrug in the suit.

“Come!” Yinsen says to her, and she scurries over, the black, filmy fabric floating behind her. Tony’s distracted by what seems like a whirlwind rotating around the fire and its makeshift chimney. The flames inside the vortex are roaring. It’s Emory’s own booby trap, one that reassures him that she knows this is all or nothing.

The sound of the drill resumes. Yinsen’s got his hands on Emory’s, showing her how to use it, his lips close to her ear. She’s nodding, her expression grave. Out in the cave complex, men are yelling, running.

“We need more time,” Yinsen says, turning around. He reaches out to touch the progress bar on the computer screen. “I’m going to go buy you some time,” he says, dipping towards Emory to kiss her on the top of her head before rushing towards the blasted doors.

“Stick to the plan!” Tony shouts, unable to stop him, unable to impose his will to prevent this. “Yinsen!” Nothing is moving fast enough. Emory’s tightening his hex bolts. The progress bar is creeping along. “Go, stop him, those are enough, it’ll hold,” he tells her, but she shakes her head. Tony looks more closely at her, sees that she’s practically sobbing. “What--”

Emory shakes her head vehemently. “Don’t ask.” 

He barely has the patience to stand still and wait for the suit to finish up. If he pulls the plug now, none of the controls will work.“He’s a sitting duck, you’ve got to--”

“He has a gun!” She says this as if Yinsen being armed matters at all, against odds like that. Emory kneels to check his legs, and Tony’s suddenly furious.

“With no armor, no protection, and neither of us as backup! Come on!”

She stands up and screams in his face. “He made me promise! He told me--” she breaks off, dropping the drill, both hands covering her mouth. Out in the cave, there’s an exchange of gunfire.

Tony’s angry with her but the utter grief on her face is something he doesn’t want to understand. As always when he’s confronted by something uncomfortable, his instinct is to deflect, to distract.

Armor.

“Hey, over on the table, a kind of vee shaped metal thing, go get it, will you?” he tells her. Emory nods, her face wet, her hair blowing in her own self-contained wind. Her powers are banked and ready, even if his are still gatekept through a computer system so old he could probably have built it in his elementary school days.

She goes to hand it to him, and he shakes his head. “It’s for you. Couldn’t make a helmet, so I made a shield. Goes on your right forearm, you hold it up, protect your head.”

It’s woefully inadequate and probably the worst idea, because if Emory spends most of her time with it up, she could be killed any number of ways from any possible direction, and she’ll have no way to see it coming. But she straps it onto her arm and offers him a tremulous smile.

The sporadic gunfire and yelling from outside stops. “Get back, get behind me,” Tony tells her. “Hold that shield up.”

“Couldn’t I push them back with a heavy win--” She breaks off, hearing the footsteps approaching as clearly as he does.

The lights in the cave flicker as his progress bar finally completes, sending a last surge of data and energy into the suit at the exact moment he needs it. Secure in the knowledge that Emory is safely crouched against the wall, Tony attacks when the time is right, frightening the goons who had come to investigate.

His heart nearly stops when two of them stand in the doorway and just rake their machine guns over the whole cave.

When they stop firing, Tony looks to see that Emory is safe. Then he notices that the swirling mass of smoke and flame around their cooking fire is about to erupt. “Now,” he tells her quietly, referring to her comment about pushing the terrorists back with her powers.

Emory nods, stands, and thrusts her hands out in front of her, turning them after a few seconds as if directing the blast of air around the corner toward the doorway. That’s exactly what happens, Tony sees. The men are knocked down by the force of it, and they scramble away, leaving their guns behind.

“You know how to fire one of those?” Tony asks her.

“Not well enough to manage that and a cartoon superpower at the same time.”

“Fair enough. We gotta go,” he says, eyeing the widening smoke vortex. She nods and comes over, regarding him with a smile that makes his pulse jump.

“Better cover your pretty face,” she says, reaching up to wipe a smudge of dirt off of his cheek.

“You just did that to power back up,” Tony accuses, but he flips the faceplate down anyway. She’s an adorable, infuriating smartass, because that was at least 25% a quip about him not making a helmet for her.

They advance out of the doorway, with Emory periodically lobbing what he imagines are wide, powerful blasts of wind ahead of them to startle anyone coming their way. Once they figure out what she’s doing, it’ll warn the men, rather than frighten them, but they’re useful for now. Suddenly, there’s a loud noise from behind, and Tony gestures for Emory to get down as he crouches over her. A hot shockwave erupts from the cave they’d just left, and one of the men Tony had thought was dead on the ground lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Oh my god, I don’t think I can do this, I don’t think I can do this!” Emory whines in a terrified whisper.

“Yeah, well, that was the alternative, so I think it’s worth a try. Just picture a soft bed and an ocean view, okay?” he says, wishing he could risk lifting the faceplate so she could see him more clearly. “A big, soft bed.”

She’d been huddled against the wall in a fetal position, but when Tony straightens to a stand, she looks up at him, her own dirt-smudged face doing nothing to diminish her beauty. “Hard to picture comfort in a hotel environment, Tony,” she says sadly. “I don’t even know if Rory’s kept all my things.”

Her response is so illogical that he nearly forgets they’re mid-escape. Tony’s about to ask her why she’d think she’ll ever have to stay in a hotel again, when she freezes, her eyes going wide. There’s a fear, but also confidence, which is confusing until he hears a ‘ping’ against his helmet, and then a thud.

“Holy shit, he just tried to shoot you and the ricochet hit him in his own head!” Emory said in a sick, horrified voice. Tony’s certain she’d expected the bullet to be deflected, but not like that. The safety implications for her staying close to him are clear, though.

“That means you have to stay back,” Tony says with commanding urgency. “Promise me.”

Emory nods.

To make sure they can’t be snuck up on from behind, Tony backtracks just a little, but the smoke from their sabotaged fire is slowly filling the passageways behind them. Ahead, he sees movement.

“Get down, cover your head, and stay at least ten feet back, preferably around a corner. Keep sending bursts of air behind you just in case, got it?”

“Got it,” she says.

Tony makes short work of the three men who are trying to advance on him. Their bullets bounce right off of him, but the strikes he makes with his massive metal arms knock them out cold. As he looks toward the twisting path ahead of him, Tony feels a rush of wind fly past him, and smiles, inside the helmet.

“Need a recharge? You look gorgeous, even when you’re filthy,” he yells back at her.

“Gee, thanks. Right back at you, champ!” 

He’s not sure there isn’t a residual effect just from osmosis, there, because Tony definitely feels a surge of something. Out of nowhere, he wonders if he can persuade Rhodey to let them fly back on his own personal jet, once they’re found. It has a bed.

The sad part is that right now he just wants to sleep in it, with Emory curled up beside him. That’s what their escape is about, really. It’s not about murder. It’s not about revenge (well, some of it is). It’s about hamburgers and clean sheets and comfort.

They work their way toward the front, loosely following the directions that Yinsen had given him. Tony’s long since forgotten the number of steps and in which direction, but he doesn’t think any of these bozos want to run deeper into the cave, so he trusts that the way they’re running for their lives is probably toward the way out. He’s right. The sunlight he remembers as being so harsh and unforgiving is visible at the entrance.

So is a crumpled, bloodied body propped up on a pile of rice bags. His heart stops.

“Yinsen!” Tony cries out, starting toward him.

“Watch out!” the older man warns.

The light from the opening is so bright that Tony is momentarily dazzled, and then there’s an explosion beside him. It’s not enough to knock him down, and he knows Emory is safely enough behind, so Tony focuses his worry for Yinsen into the precise movements he’d practiced with the awkward rubber gauntlet on. He fires off the missile without a hitch, and the figure in the doorway falls to the ground. The fire around the man suddenly starts blazing, and then it lifts, spinning, scorching, as he crawls toward the open air before shuddering and going still.

When he turns around to yell at her for endangering herself, Emory is staring at Yinsen.

Tony rushes over, raising his faceplate. “Cmon. Gotta get up, we have to stick to the plan. Em, come help get him up,” he says, trying to inject some comfort into the nickname he’s only just started to use, hoping it’ll soothe the horror she’s undoubtedly feeling.

“This was always the plan, Stark,” Yinsen says, coughing.

“Come on,” Tony says to both of them, using all his mental strength to keep his voice soothing, encouraging, caring. “You’re gonna go see your family! Get up.” He looks for Emory, but she is pressed against the wall behind them, crying.

“My family is dead,” Yinsen whispers. His tone is that of a gentle parent, and Tony wants to scream, he yearns to destroy, he needs to refute.

“No, don’t lie to me, goddamnit, we’ve shared too much for that! Stop being a father figure for once in your life and get up, do what you’re told!” Tony demands. 

“It’s okay. I’m going to see them now, my family. My Jalila has been without me for long enough, now. I want this,” Yinsen whispers. “I want this.”

No amount of money, no magical powers, no hand-crafted armor will help. There’s nothing he can do. “Thank you for saving me,” Tony says. It’s a pathetic, useless statement in the face of what he wishes he could do.

“Don’t waste it, Tony,” Yinsen says, using his first name for the first time, the last time. “Don’t waste your life.” He gasps, turning his head in obvious pain, his eyes closing, before growing still.

Tony stands there and lets the guilt wash over him, bathing in it.

This is not about a soft bed, now. Not anymore.

“Stay back,” he tells Emory, hearing fury in his tone. He doesn’t wait to see her nod.

Tony’s voice when he tells her to stay back is really chilling. Even though his footsteps had been heavy and frightening in the ironmonger suit already, now they sound like the harbinger of death for anyone who dares to challenge him. Emory slides down behind a metal barrel that coincidentally blocks Yinsen’s body from sight, listening to the frightening barrage of gunfire outside. She’s numb rather than terrified, hating that the fatherly interpreter had been right when he’d told her not to hope for his survival.

She’d obeyed him. Her hope now is that he hadn’t sought to die, but just accepted it was likely.

The gunfire ceases, and Tony says something she can’t hear. Then she hears screaming. He’s clearly activated the flamethrowers.

Emory sucks in one deep breath, then another, knowing she can’t delay her next task, no matter how painful it will be. She stands up and makes her way to the lifeless body of the man who had kept them alive over the past months. He’s still doing it; she gently unbuckles the bag he’d clasped around his waist, the one with their food in it. When she fastens it to her own waist, it’s still warm.

Grief is an emotion she can’t afford right now, so she pushes it away. She has had plenty of practice subsuming her own emotions after so much time with Rory. Emory reaches for the power she has banked up-- only to realize that it’s gone. The agony of watching Yinsen die in front of her has drained it away.

“Shit,” she whispers.

“Emory!” Tony’s voice is loud and distorted, and she is terrified that she’s just painted a target on herself by not following him closely enough. She can’t possibly answer, or the goons could use the sound to pinpoint her location. Emory raises her shield and moves cautiously to the mouth of the cave, peeking out.

Everything is on fire. Everything. And she can’t see Tony.

“Yeah, that’s right. I have TWO of them!” he screams out, and then she sees him, standing in the middle of the flat space that leads up to the cave, firing his flamethrowers in two different directions.

Just like that, hearing his voice, seeing him safe and confident is enough. She feels her energy levels start to tick up, layer upon layer of power sliding over each other on her skin.

“The metal is really warm,” Tony warns when he sees her. “Good thing that fabric’s kind of thick, because we need to jet. And I mean jet,” he says, walking unsteadily toward in her direction. There are bullets pinging off of him, Emory can see them. He probably can’t see or hear them, by now, though.

“Hold still!” she yells over.

When they’d been in the cave, Emory hadn’t risked pulling all the air she could instinctively sense she had access to, for fear that she’d do something dangerous with the fire, accidentally remove all the oxygen out of the room, or both. Now, though, she’s in the open, with air to spare.

Emory throws her shield aside and starts from behind, knowing the wind will gain speed and intensity as it rushes down the hillside. She pulls from the canyon off to her left, too, the one that isn’t full of flaming weaponry. She doesn’t need to make such grand physical gestures, she knows, but it helps her visualize what she’s doing-- so Emory lifts her hands above her head before rotating both arms, leaning them to the right and shoving with her hands and her power, sending the rolling horizontal wave she’s created straight for the hillside full of men with guns. Tony figures out what she’s doing at the last minute and aims his flamethrowers directly into the vortex.

At least one of the men flies so high and fast he ends up sailing over the peak of the small mountain they’re collected on, his clothes flaming.

There’s no sense of accomplishment here, though. Just a momentary break in an untenable, deadly situation.

“Gust me,” Tony says. He holds his arms out, and she pulls from as high as she possibly can reach, pulling straight down from the clouds towards Tony. “Holy shit!” he says, as the metal is etched with delicate patterns of ice crystals in a few places. He holds out one arm and flips a panel open, then waves her towards him. “Still pretty hot,” he warns as he leans down to pull her to his chest, the wide, solid metal of his right arm providing a seat of sorts. “Okay, turn this red switch and hold on!”

Emory does as he asks, and immediately there’s a huge jolt of energy that lifts the two of them up-- which is a very good thing, as it seems as though every weapon in the terrorists’ arsenal ignites at the same time as Tony’s escape boosters. She can barely hold on, digging her bare hands anywhere she can find purchase, wary of pinching them between the uncaring plates of metal.

“What was your plan?” she screams against the wind whipping past.

“Air cushion!” he hollers back.

“You didn’t think to--” Emory breaks off her rebuke right as Tony’s handmade thrusters stop firing. “--warn me?”

There’s no way to hold onto him as they start to tumble down, but with Tony Stark’s life on the line, Emory Autumn will call on the entire fucking atmosphere to save him if she has to.

Next chapter, as they walk the desert, Tony does what he can to keep Emory alive, and she does the same right back.

[cha0ticspacebi]

You've Got Desire, So Let It Out: Chapter 7

You love your job. Being a teacher is what you've always wanted to do. But being in charge all day can be draining. You are looking for someone to take that control away for a while. When Robin and Steve set you up with Eddie, an old friend from high school, sparks fly! One day you ask Eddie to come volunteer in your classroom and he's more than happy to oblige. But what happens when the inevitable discipline issue arises and you have to use your teacher voice in front of him for the first time? Let's just say Eddie enjoys it a bit too much.

☆Tags: 21+ MDNI, switch Eddie Munson, switch reader, BDSM, kinky sex, choking, dirty talk, dom/sub, impact play, bratting, degradation, praise, humiliation, restraints, mean dom Eddie, overstimulation, orgasm control

Chapter 7/12 ☆ Previous chapter → Next chapter

☆ You can find me over on A03 as Cha0ticBi ☆ Master list link! ☆

Winter break is a huge milestone in every school year. If you can make it until then, every long day, every struggle, every behavior issue seems miles away.  You and Eddie were inseparable during your two week vacation. The highlight of it all was finally being able to make it to another one of his shows. Between meetings, conferences, and just the general demand your job requires you hadn’t been able to support him like you wanted to the last few months so getting to don your one of a kind autographed Corroded Coffin shirt and head to the bar with Steve and Robin was much needed. 

A nostalgic smile befell your face as you recalled the night you and Eddie met. This evening started much the same, dancing around your apartment while getting ready, Robin picking you up and meeting Steve and the gang at the bar.

Through the few hellfire sessions you’d been able to make it to, you'd gotten closer with Mike and Dustin than you had been before.  Listening to Eddie and Dustin’s banter had quickly become a favorite pastime. Right now Eddie and the rest of the band were backstage preparing for the show. Moments like this surrounded by your mutual friends, sipping a delicious drink, laughing together while you waited for Eddie’s performance— it sparked something in your mind as you thought about how you never wanted it to end.

Dustin sipped his drink, “So when’s the wedding?”

The liquid caught in your throat, pulling you from your daydream. It traveled seemingly right into your lungs and not your stomach as you covered your cough, “Excuse me?”

The whole table laughed at your obvious embarrassment. Dustin followed up, “You guys think I’m joking? I’ve never seen Eddie like this. Do you know what he did the other day at hellfire?”

Mike agreed, adding to the point Dustin was trying to make, “No really, Dustin’s right. This wasn’t Eddie.”

You were skeptical of their observations. You had been at that most recent session and you didn’t think Eddie had done anything weird, “What are you talking about?”

“Remember when you asked him to bend the rules for you? You wanted to cast that spell but you didn’t have any spell slots left?” Dustin recounted for the table despite Robin and Steve being clueless as to what that sentence actually meant.

You shrugged, “Yeah so? He let me do it because it was just good story telling.”

Dustin shook his head, “See if any of us had done that? He would have laughed in our faces and told us,” He looked around to make sure Eddie hadn’t suddenly misty stepped from nowhere and was standing right behind him. His tone twisted and imitated a grumpy Eddie, “ Suck it up buttercup! Should’ve managed your spells better. He never would have let us break the rules like that, but you?” The imitative tone changed, “ Yes princess, anything for you princess. So I was just wondering if I need a tux since I would obviously be the best man?”

Steve piped up, “Whoa hold up there twerp, what makes you think you’d be best man?”

You rolled your eyes and listened to the sounds of them continuing to bricker fade as you snuck away. Heading to the bar to grab another drink. You ordered and felt nostalgic again as you turned to look at the stage. Except this time, instead of coming face to face with Eddie’s chest, two girls came up right next to you.

“I love your shirt!” one of them starts up an innocent conversation.

The other smiles in agreement and you figure, what the hell, I can make small talk, “Thanks. Are you here for the band?”

“Yeah! We actually wanted to ask you where’d you get them to autograph it for you?” They eyed the silver sharpie lines that ran across where your chest sits. The E in his name overlapping with part of the -ed in Corroded. Eddie insisted that his name go on your chest, right above your heart. All the others signed on your back. 

The bartender pushed your drink towards you. You pointed to his signature, “The lead guitarist is my boyfriend.”

Both of their faces visibly deflate, “Guess the rumors that he was seeing someone are true. Would you be offended if we said he was kinda why we are here too?”

You laughed. During your road trip over the summer you learned pretty quickly that all the boys had quite a few female fans, but Eddie was definitely the star of the show. Although Gareth had his own little cult following that given enough time and more exposure could rival Eddie’s fans one day. 

“Not at all,” your drink had been finished long enough for you to drink a good bit of it. You stood talking with them for a bit longer, “He was playing the first night I met him so I know the feeling.”

“We went to high school with him and it’s so crazy how much he’s changed! He’s way cooler now-“

“And hotter!” The other one adds.

“Are you big metal fans?” You start to ask but you already have a sinking suspicion that you know the answer. 

One of them shrugs and says, “It’s ok. Definitely not my favorite though.”

The other doesn’t even try to hide it, “No not really, I do like watching those fingers go up and that guitar though.”

Of course– the lights dimmed, oh thank god ! The show was getting started, giving you the perfect escape from this conversation. You thanked them for coming to support him anyways and headed back to your friends. 

The crowd cheered as they took to the stage. Eddie opted for his forest green vest tonight and as you tried so hard to focus on his playing and how good he looked while doing it, you found yourself scowling as you couldn't push away the thoughts that kept rearing their ugly heads. Thinking about what those girls would be saying about his attire or his hair or how good his ringed fingers look gliding up and down the neck of his guitar. They probably think he’s so hot, what the hell do they know? I bet they were probably the same ones who bullied him in high school but now that he’s getting popular they suddenly think they can–

“Hey, are you ok?” Robin breaks your thoughts, “You look pissed.”

You try to calm your nerves, “I’m ok, just something these girls at the bar said.”

After the show you’d never wanted Eddie to finish packing up his stuff faster so the two of you could get out of that bar. When Eddie finally stepped out and tried to make his way over to your table, he was stopped. Those girls from the bar were batting their eyelashes at him and had the fucking nerve to make him laugh with something they said. You felt the icy venom coarse through your veins as you watched him pull out the silver Sharpie you gave him from one of the pockets to sign the backs of their shirts. The napkin in your hand didn’t stand a chance against your wrath as you shredded it to pieces on the table. 

“Whoa tiger,” Steve put his hand on your shoulder, “I can practically see the steam coming from your ears. You know he’d never give those girls the time of day right? He just signed an autograph and was probably telling them when their next show is, that interaction was all business for him.” You know in your heart Steve is right but it still hurts knowing that they only wanted to talk to him because of his looks. Steve smiled, “Know how I know that? He should see how he looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. See? Here he comes.”

If Eddie noticed your sour mood the rest of the night at the bar he didn’t say anything until the two of you got back to his place, “Alright sweetheart,” he asked in a very knowing tone, “What’s bothering you?” He tilted his brows at you with a smirk, “You look like your ready to fight god, and fucking adorable as it is, I can tell something upset you– so out with it. What’s wrong?”

You huffed into his chest. His arms wrapped around you. Melting away some of the tension you held in your muscles as he rubbed your back, “You’re so fucking talented you know that?”

He laughed into your hair, planting a gentle kiss against the side of your head, “Thank you for your eloquent review sweetheart.”

“I’m serious!” you pouted. Nearly going so far as to stomp your foot. Your eyes fell to the floor and your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, “Stupid girls didn’t even like your music.”  

“Girls?” He lifted your chin to look at him. The dots connected in his mind causing a huge grin to grow on his face, “Aww is my pretty girl jealous?”

Your pouty lips got bigger, “No!”

Your knees buckled as he whispered in your ear, “Oh but I think you are my love. Tell me? Who has my collar around their neck? You or some girl at the bar?”

Your cheeks flushed, “Me sir.”

“Damn right it’s you,” you shuddered as his fingers traced beneath the seam of your shirt, “Now why don’t you tell me what happened?”

You explain the brief conversation you'd had with them at the bar, “I swear I’m not jealous that you have fangirls, you're hot as hell Eddie. Stop making that face and listen to me!”

He tried to be serious but that was easier said than done. “I’m sorry princess. I’ll be good and listen,” you eyed him skeptically to which he held up a hand to his heart, “No I swear! I’ll listen, go ahead and finish telling me how hot– oof hey!” You grabbed the collar of his jacket and shook him before kissing his open mouth.

“I love you Eddie, but please shut up so I can finish,” he was true to his word and didn’t continue talking. Letting you finish explaining yourself, “I was talking to them at the bar and they said they went to high school with you. But then they made comments about how you are so much cooler and hotter now than you were back then and that they don’t even like your music, it made me so mad! They were probably the same girls that made fun of you back then and now that you're a famous rockstar they suddenly think they should be allowed to talk to you?”

“Thank you for defending my honor princess,” he played with your hair between his fingers, “You nailed it pretty damn close. They were both former cheerleaders.” He chuckled to himself, “I wonder if they remember how pissed they were when I sold drugs to their leader Chrissy? Who came to me willingly. On more than one occasion I might add.”

You didn’t follow that up with any words. Leaning into his touches, your hand drifted up and played with the guitar pick around your neck. Suddenly you had a thought you had wanted to know the answer to before but never had the courage to ask. Eddie had never brought up either, but your brain decided that now was the perfect time to bring up.

“Eddie? Did you ever collar any of your other submissives?” The red plastic never left your fingertips as you looked up into his wide brown eyes.

You feel his shoulders rise and fall with a loud sigh, “One other time. It wasn’t the same as yours though. She wanted a more traditional collar, black leather with a silver ring.” He spoke quietly and with a hint of sadness, “She was the last submissive I took before you.”

“Took?”

He pulled you towards the bed and you happily cuddled into him as he kept talking, “Yeah sweetheart. She and I had a very different relationship than you and I have. We were strictly dominant and submissive– she wasn’t my girlfriend like you are. She never came to my shows, never played D&D with my friends, nothing like that. We had a schedule where she would come over on the weekends, usually after one of our shows if we were playing and then be gone by Monday morning.”

Your heart ached for him, “I’m sorry for bringing it up Eddie.”

He shook his head, “Don’t be sorry sweetheart. It’s ok. She was a sweet girl and I don’t blame her for anything.”

“Can I be a little more intrusive and ask how it ended?”

You felt him bristle at the question and clear his throat really loudly, “Well these things don’t typically last forever you know? Doms and subs are usually together for a while and then eventually go their separate ways. Sometimes if both people develop feelings beyond that, the nature of the relationship can change but not always. With her, we both just realized we wanted different things. Last I heard she was dating some basketball loser from high school.” 

He looked surprised when you pressed your body up against the bed, raising yourself up to kiss his lips, “Thank you for telling me Eddie.”

“You’re welcome love,” his tongue took advantage of your little gasp when he kissed you back by taking over your mouth and claiming it as his own, “I can’t believe you got jealous of some girls. All over little ol’ me.”

You break the kiss again long enough to refute his claims, “You’re incredible Eddie. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“You? You think you’re the lucky one? No no sweetheart, that would be me,” your heart skips as he lowers himself on the bed towards the rapidly widening space between your legs, “Now let me show you just how lucky I am.” 

- - - - - -  

The new year came way too fast. However, returning to work following winter break brought renewed energy and a fresh start. 

Eddie joining your classroom had become a regular event, the class loved seeing Eddie as they entered and knew they could get you to do just about anything on those days. Extra recess? Sure why not. Stopping early and doing an art activity at the end of the day? Yeah we’ve got time for that.  Even though he has been really busy lately, between performing at various local bars nearly every weekend, sometimes even during the week, band practice, and hellfire sessions, he always made time for you. He looked forward to the days he got to spend with just you and the mattress the most. 

One good thing about this time of the year in Indiana was the possibility of snow days. You and Eddie had your eyes locked on the list of school closings the night before a big storm. The weather forecast had called for a near constant, heavy snowfall between 5 am and 10 pm meaning that while the roads wouldn’t be too terrible for the morning commute the afternoon would likely be a mess. Your excitement grew as school after school in the county began to close.

“Connor Creek Public Schools just closed sweetheart,” Eddie was keeping you updated as nearby school districts closed from the couch as you graded a few papers in the kitchen.

“Nice! If they close, Hawkins will usually follow suit.”

This pattern continues and with every passing hour more and more schools closed, all except yours. You already had it in your mind that school would be canceled so you never considered it was even a possibility that you’d be going home tonight. After work you’d gone into full snow day mode, going home to tend to Ozzy before grabbing some comfy pajamas and hot cocoa mix before heading back to spend the night with Eddie. Yet here it was, getting later and later and still no official ruling.

It was now an hour past the time you’d usually head to bed on a school night. Shocked, you stood up from the table, “Well, I guess I have to go to bed just in case.”

Eddie was just as confused as you were, “Who makes these decisions? He looked out the window and saw a few light flurries already making their way down from the sky through the silent darkness, “It’s already starting sooner than they said it would.”

You tried to remain hopeful but that glimmer of hope dwindles when you had completed your nightly routine and stood in Eddie’s kitchen in your pajamas, “Well, goodnight Eddie. Wake me up if there’s good news.”

Sleep didn’t come easy tonight even with a goodnight kiss from Eddie and getting curled up in his blankets, surrounded by his smell. Eddie came to bed at some point, you reached out to him, satisfying the need for missing warmth as you finally got a few hours of restful sleep. 

Your normal alarm went off and you rolled over to switch it off, pulling up the list of school closings one last time. You really didn’t mean to be as loud as you were.

“Son of bitch!”

Eddie shot up, his eyes flew open as he searched for the source of the loud noise that woke him up, “W-what’s wrong sweetheart?”

“Listen to this shit,” you read the email from your principal in a more than disgusted tone, “Good morning staff, per the district's recommendations we will be open for a half day today. Students will be dismissed at 12:00 pm following lunch. Further instructions in regards to our status for tomorrow will be sent out as more information becomes available. ”

Eddie rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he got up with you. He looked out the kitchen window. The snow had continued falling throughout the night and according to the weather it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, “You seriously have to drive in this crap? Every fucking school in Roane County is closed.”

You felt like a snowman as you bundled up with the winter necessities before giving Eddie a kiss and heading out into the frozen wasteland, “Tell that to my principal.”

“Call me when you’re leaving, I know your drive isn’t too long but still. If you get stuck somewhere don’t be stubborn and try to get yourself out,” dipping you while holding firmly to your back so you didn’t fall, he gave you another reason why it wasn’t just inside D&D that Eddie was a chivalrous knight in shining armor, “Call me and I’ll come to your rescue!”

The drive to work wasn’t too bad, you were from the midwest and knew how to drive in snowy conditions, it’s just a part of life here. But that didn’t make it easy and you knew the drive back would be worse. Now the only question on your mind was, how many students am I actually going to have show up today?

2. The answer was 2 students. You spent the entire morning with the other second grade class and her 2 students. There was no point in starting anything new or wasting the lessons you had planned for today so the 4 troopers whose parents insisted on perfect attendance played games, built impressive Lego creations and colored all morning. Meanwhile you took advantage of the free workday your school had given you. Plans for next week written, copies made, paperwork filed, all in all you managed to make the best of a shitty situation. Now comes the fun part. Driving home.

Trudging through the rapidly growing snow piles beneath your feet you made your way back out to your car. You got it warming up and then headed back into the snow to clean off the windows. Warmth surrounded you when you opened your trunk and saw that Eddie stuck a small shovel and a flashlight in next to your snow brush. Your cheeks were more than rosy as you thought about how Eddie was unlike any man you’d ever known. He was so thoughtful, caring, he made you laugh and was always going out of his way to make your day just a little easier or brighter. You got so distracted thinking about how great he is, you forgot to call him.

It took a long time but you managed to pull back into the Forest Hills Trailer Park safely and hurried inside. Your body hit an obstacle upon entering. Eddie was right on the other side of the door swinging his coat on.

“There you are!” he sounded relieved, “I was just about to go out and look for you. What did I say this morning when you left?” 

Immediately realizing your mistake, “To call you when I was leaving sir.”

“Did you do that?”

“No sir. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

He didn’t admit it but you could tell he was thankful he didn’t have to venture out and rescue you from a snowy ditch, though he absolutely would have if necessary, “I’m glad you made it back safe sweetheart. So, tell me about this incredibly useful half day of yours.”

You tell him how much work you accomplished while drinking some hot cocoa together on his couch. He praised you, “Of course you used today to get work done. You are such a good girl.” After a while you decide you should make it up to him.

“Sir?”

“Yes love?”

“Can I suck your cock? I want to show you how sorry I am that I made you worry.”

His lips curled into a smile, “Such polite manners coming from my bratty girl. Of course sweetheart,” he started to pull himself out but you stopped him.

“Let me take care of you sir. Keep your hands down,” you slid to the floor between his knees and held his wrists at his sides.

“Yes princess,” he threw his head back as you went to work. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his hardening length out and toyed with the tip for a moment, watching the veins in his hands flex and pulse as he struggled to keep them down.

Once he was nice and worked up you took the tip into your mouth and sucked gently. His moans filled the quiet living room. The feeling of his cock inside your mouth as you bobbed your head up and down caused building want in your core. Your pussy clenched and ached. Your mouth stretched around him as you picked up the pace. Your hands moved from rubbing along his hips to holding his wiggly hands in place.

“Shit sweetheart your mouth feels so good, please don’t stop,” your ears perked up to the subtle change in his tone and use of the word please. It sounded very familiar. Except it was usually the tone coming from your mouth. He kept whispering to himself. You looked up through hooded eyes without removing his cock from your mouth and delighted in Eddie’s expression. His head thrown back, eyes closed, slowly coming undone with each lick of your tongue against the back of his length. 

“Fuck,” he sounded so far gone from just this simple blow job that your curious nature wanted to see how much fun you could have with him. You stopped going all the way down and just sucked his sensitive tip. His hands easily freed themselves from your flimsy grasp and gripped your wrists instead, but still kept them at his side as you had asked. The next thing out of his mouth was such a spontaneous utterance you weren’t even sure he realized what he was saying, “Can I come princess? Please! Fuck will you let me come in your mouth?” Eddie was begging.

Eddie didn’t beg. That was your job. Still your brain took in this new information and saved it inside a box labeled, unusual curiosities– do not discard! 

You spoke around his leaking cock, “Yes sir, go ahead. Come in my mouth please!”

Your permission was all he needed to pull his hands free, take your head in his grip, and fuck himself to finishing in your mouth. Your mouth felt even more full as he pumped every drop of his orgasm into your throat. Your mind whisked you away to the night he had spit in your mouth, the absolutely sinful way he looked down at you and whispered, Swallow. He repeats that order here and you don’t waste a drop of him.

Post orgasmic bliss overtook your dominant boyfriend, he looked up at the ceiling with glazed over eyes. A happy little grin on the side of his mouth, “Thank you princess. That felt so fucking good.”

School ended up being canceled the next day since the roads still hadn’t been cleared. You and Eddie spent all day together and although neither of you brought it up you couldn’t get the sound of his voice as he begged to come in your mouth out of your head.       

It was the week of Valentine's Day that Eddie came into your classroom again. The class had been more active than usual. Typically days when Eddie was there they did a pretty good job listening.

Not today. Every little task was a challenge. They were constantly talking, not following directions the first time, and to top it all off you had gotten a new student last week who was having a lot of trouble adjusting.

Jackson had just moved to Hawkins with his family from the city. A story much like your own so you tried to use that as a bonding point. His first few days you’d talk to him about his old school in the city and it helped him open up a little, but right away you could tell he was going to be a handful. Today you would find out just how right you were.

Eddie was at his table working on helping a few students who had been absent complete some missing assignments. You were also working with a small group of students, including your newest member. You were working on a routine math activity. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until the timer went off and you instructed Jackson to clean up the math blocks he’d been using.

“No!” he screamed and kept playing as he ignored your continued prompts for him to clean up.

“If you don’t clean up now Jackson you’ll have to do it during recess. Make a different choice please,” your voice was firm as you followed the carefully planned discipline steps in your classroom. For the first offense students received a verbal warning and were given the chance to change their behavior. If they still refused, loss of privilege such as recess was the next step. A third offense resulted in the loss of one of your school's cub currency, tickets that students could earn and spend at the school store. The fourth and final step was a phone call home.

Jackson had already broken two classroom rules this morning by running around during a phonics video and not raising his hand to ask a question. Refusing to clean up his mess was pushing him closer and closer to a phone call home. 

“I’ll ask one more time for you to clean up the blocks and if you don’t I will have to take a cubs ticket.”

Eddie knew the class routine by now and gave you a much needed extra hand when situations like this arose. He instructed all the students to return to their seats after cleaning up. 

After giving Jackson adequate thinking time to change his behavior you got up and headed towards the wall chart where students stored their tickets and removed one from Jackson’s pocket. When you turned around to continue your attempt to get him to follow directions, his face had turned sour and he screamed again!

“No!” he stood up finally but instead of following directions he kicked the plastic fidget stool he’d been sitting on. You knew this was going nowhere so you turned to Eddie.

“Will you line them up and walk them to lunch? I’ll be right there,” he nodded but before he was able to start, Jackson kicked the stool again and he had started crying.

You did your best to keep a level voice but as the situation worsened and your already strained nerves became more and more agitated, that became easier said than done, “Jackson I’m not going to try and talk to you right now, when you are finished crying we can talk. Otherwise I’ll just call your dad and he can come up here to talk to you.”

This set him off. He screamed again and switched to throwing the stool across the room instead of kicking it this time, thankfully it came clattering to the ground without hurting anyone. Followed promptly by him running though the classroom, pushing past Eddie, and right out into the hallway. The other students were silent. Unsure of what just happened. Eddie also just watched you with eyes blown wide with love and admiration as you didn’t miss a step. You called the office, informed them of what happened and went out into the hallway to follow him, “Take the rest of the class to lunch Eddie.”

By the time Jackson was settled with the school counselor, lunch was almost over. Eddie was spinning in his chair when you walked back into the room.

Now that the students were out of sight you let your guard down. You let out a deep heavy sigh and cried, “T-thanks for your help Eddie. I really appreciate it. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

He motioned for you to come into his arms, “You’d have figured it out. You did such a good job sweetheart. I don’t even know what I would have done in that situation. You handled that like a fucking rockstar!”

“I don’t feel like a rockstar,” you let yourself fall into him more, “He’s been getting worse and worse. Nothing I try is working. Today’s been really hard.” 

Eddie was really good at turning his dom voice on and off. He never used it when you were at work but he could see you needed him right now, “Listen to me. Everyday you come here and detail with shit that would send most people packing within a few hours. You are going to get through this,” he played with your collar between his thumb and index finger, “And when we get home I am going to spoil you rotten. Gonna to turn that brain of yours to factory reset. Do you understand me?”

You wiped the last sign of tears from your cheeks, “Yes sir.”

“Good girl. Now I’m going to go get them and when we come back you’re going to teach the shit out of this afternoon and stop doubting yourself,” without another word you watched him stoll out of the room leaving you to collect yourself for a minute. Taking a few deep breaths helped. Your mind cleared a bit, focusing on Eddie’s words and his promise to spoil you tonight helped.

The afternoon was better, just as Eddie said it would be. Somewhere deep in your subconscious you couldn’t help but remember that box.

[coconut530]

now that the first half of the season’s over…

SOLID STATE S1 PT. 1 DETAIL POST

(I’m quite obsessed still, strap in it's gonna be a long one. I'll put it under a Keep Reading for your dashes)

(each episode is one image, more or less, sometimes that’ll change but it’ll be listed. Also will have observations from my last post in it)

🩷CHAPTER 1: TAKEOVER💚

Takeover 1

Newspapers from Perth detailing another 50 degree summer in 2037, civil unrest, something with the world's newest trillion ?, and a newspaper from 2052

Concordia(n) Minerals sign

Dian's billboard to join WNDR

Shot of Egan, Recurring Background Character guy, and The Reporter

Recurring Union officials at a rally with a large mob facing the blonde police person

The Student walking in the Lower City

Prakash mentioning his meeting with the Temple of the Golden Hand that morning

Takeover 2

The implication of crime syndicates in the Lower City

One gang called The Vipers, headed by someone named Bishop

Eijiro being from a part of the Lower City called the Red Gate District (I’m assuming red gates that reference the ones in Japan that spirits can’t cross through, and Eiji’s more Japanese-leaning name, which translates to “reflective second son”(Google), which makes sense since he’s the second guy Prakash picked up out of the takeover gang 🤯)

Castel standing on a Tanser Tech truck

Takeover 3

Prakash telling Enzo to do as he's told, with a special highlight in his eye alluding to their past

Sign over the road saying "Remember your cooperation is required by law" which is...yikes

Takeover 4

The flying jav that Castel and Eiji use to get out of there in Takeover 8 being their wedding gift

The poisoned champagne being from Rook Tanser himself

The first shots of Tanser, Ecker, Aurun, Ramsay, and Iolanthe

"You know what they say... Prakash Malik knows how to invest!"

Prakash viewing both Enzo and Asha as "investments" which is... yikes. Eiji too I guess 😬

Takeover 5

"This is between me and him." Prakash is the one who had Enzo's eyes replaced, hence the focus on it (see Inheritance)

"Finally got the guts to make a move, eh?" Enzo tried to make a move in the past, and it didn't work (see Inheritance)

I think I deciphered Prakash's blurred dialogue

"I thought I taught you better than appealing to sentiment." (see Inheritance: “Enzo’s use may yet run out, and I will not hesitate over sentimentality.”)

Takeover 6

"You should be packing!" For Mars (see Inheritance)

Asha questioning Enzo’s eyes

Panel implying Enzo maybe disappointed Prakash in the past, resulting in his new eyes (they’re specially highlighted so maybe)

Enzo cutting Eiji off at the mention of Bruno, implying there's some special chemistry with them

Takeover 7

Castel wanting a panic room, mentioning they started to be built after some uprising

Meselon dealing with public health in Concordia

Asha's cybernetic contracts with Tanser Tech ( O_O ) (see Two of a Kind)

Ecker Byse owning the police force

Tanser Tech bribing every politician in the city

Takeover 8

Ramsay Hanan, of Hanan Heavy Industries

Ecker Byse, of Aegis Solutions International

Iolanthe Lieberthal III, Admiral-in-Exile of Heliodyne (Martian???)

Aurun Kastor-Valko, of Meselon

Rook Tanser, of Tanser Technology Augments

These are the people we're up against hahahhhaha

💛CHAPTER 2: SURGE🖤

Surge 1

Prakash about to go to Asha's wedding (Takeover 1)

The news headline above the upper city entrance saying "Police investigate union link" about Prakash's death

Subway Panel 1: Anti-union advertising, Recurring Union Leader, Jules (see Two of a Kind 4)

Subway Panel 2: Jules, Malik Industries advertisement "More than a company, we're family", Get Ahead Gigs

Subway Panel 3: VR thing, Rent-A-Friend

The subway slowly emptying, leaving Dian alone in the third panel, because majority of people don't live in the Upper City

Surge 2

Shadowy figure near Dian

Recurring Background Guy

Thommo and Beaux (see Two of a Kind 4)

Weird Priest Man implying someone or something purchases the failed uploading experiments (and someone in the comments validated by Veldenmire for wondering who could profit off that many dead people... Asha) (see Two of a Kind and Inheritance)

Surge 3

Jamilah and Dian arguing in front of a WNDR Prakash mourning event billboard

It shows how WNDR has put a wedge between them, as well as how far Prakash's death reaches

Recurring journalist outside Dian's house

The Reporter there as well

Surge 4

WNDR was expensive for people to use when it was first made, so they made their own technology, sedative pills and headsets

A screenshot from the Solid State short story published in the 2020 Brain Anthology of the protagonist Anya using this technology, as well as the old headset

Dian using the old headset and having a rough time

Surge 7 & 8

Egan being interviewed by that reporter (see Two of a Kind 1)

Foreshadowing of the events of Two of a Kind, how the robots are malfunctioning

Enzo's fancy new boots (Veldenmire said he was “going through it” :( )

💙CHAPTER 3: TWO OF A KIND❤️

Two of a Kind 1

The Surge happening in Malik Tower

Egg being flown over a Hanan Heavy Industries building

Egg being flown by the spot where Castel crashed the jav

Enzo’s MEMORIES, specifically the shot of Prakash, Enzo holding a lighter to someone (Bruno?????), and Enzo moments before he got his eye surgery

Enzo’s TATTOOS, Veldenmire saying he has one from each of the Takeover crew, Aoife was here, Butch woz here, Eiji’s possibly being the knife through the heart one, and I can’t pinpoint what Bruno and Giannis could’ve given him

Making you the best you can be (the best at what man?????? being a lackey????????)

Two of a Kind 2 & 3

ICOMA being on Ico's chest, what does it stand for?

Cyborg technology being illegal for decades, started in the 2050s

Cannot control them like robots, but much stronger than humans

Doctor from the Temple of the Golden Hand working in this dump on the cyborgs

Two of a Kind 4

The WNDR billboard being cracked and smashed

Get Ahead Gigs dog

Jules

Thommo and Beaux

The architecture of the Upper/Middle City pressing down on the Lower (Veldenmire said in the comments somewhere that some buildings run all the way up and down, but the Upper is always seemingly above (oppressing) the lower)

Two of a Kind 5 & 6

The slogan on the top of the elevator for Malik Industries: "...Malik, we're more than a company, we're a family!" which just makes the whole situation with the Takeover squad a little sadder bc Prakash preached that to them and then used it as his company slogan

The workers wishing they joined the Union

Enzo’s full name: Vincenzo Della Vecchia (he’s Italian, I wonder what Prakash was doing in Italy to find him)

The billboards Egan’s passing with: The person Dian yelled at in Surge 2, another recurring newscaster, and the Recurring Union Leaders

Union standoff enters 6th month

💖MIDSEASON FINALE: INHERITANCE💖

Eiji’s sword originally being Asha’s

Prakash implying the existence of Mars colonies in the 2100s (Veldenmire saying in the comments: "OF COURSE colonies on Mars are a feature in this timeline! We've done plenty of fun world building up there, and perhaps... maybe we've already met some Martians" ) (WHO'S A MARTIAN?????????)

Prakash using Asha to get what he wants (she learned from him how to use others)

ALSO SORRY IT’S NOT PICTURED BUT Asha blaming The Temple of the Golden Hand and the Lower City Union for killing Prakash

Enzo tried to make an attempt on Prakash’s life, and failed

Then as punishment Prakash replaced his eyes

Again he thought of him as an investment (see Takeover 4)

He’s been in pain ever since (poor guy… 🥺)

Jamilah and Dave asking people if Dian saved them during the Surge

Butcher…

The Reporter on a call, suspecting the turn of events for the Malik case

Anti-Union advertising on the subway (Concordia Business Council?)

Aofie…

Castel!!!! Not wearing only white!! They look good in pink!!

*deep sigh, trying not to scream* Asha’s Elite Units being the cyborgs of Butcher, Aofie, Giannis, and Bruno (she’s using Bruno specifically to break Enzo, implying again a special relationship between them)

WHAT COMES NEXT?

Chapters 4, 5, and 6 will focus on these three here, who I’ve dubbed The Student, The Reporter, and The Brawler. We saw The Student in Takeover 1, and they’re in this other art by Veldenmire here. I assume they’ll cross paths with Eiji and Castel since they’re taking shelter in the lower city right now, and they’ll be caught in the middle while they’re both trying to outrun Giannis. Perhaps they’ll give us a small insight into the education system here in Concordia. The Reporter will obviously be showing us the journalistic world of Concordia. They painted a target on their back by pressing Asha with all those questions, so naturally one of the Elites is coming after them. Perhaps they’ll cross paths with Jamilah and Dave, covering their story, and then they’ll both have to dodge Butcher and Aofie (*sniff* this is not how they should be reunited waaaaaa). The Brawler I know nothing about, haha. I give them this name because they look like they’ve seen some action with their eyebrow scars (or could just be design who knowwwwws), and their expression looks joyfully poised for a fight. I wonder what the paint on their eyes is for. Maybe they’ll cross paths with Enzo and Bruno, and we’ll learn more about them. But I mean as much as I want out new protags to meet up with other storylines and previous protags, I know they still need to have their own stories, so I won’t put too much stock into that. Overall I’m quite excited they let us see them; letting me form these theories by just looking at their eyes is kinda cool.

Aaaaaand you’ve rEACHED THE END! THANK YOU FOR READING MY VERY LONG POST ABOUT VERY NICHE WEBTOON! SOMEONE’S GOTTA GIVE IT SOME LOVE, WITH HOW BEAUTIFULLY CRAFTED IT IS, AND IF THAT PERSON HAS TO BE ME, IT WILL BE. THE HUGEST THANKS TO 🩷💖VELDENMIRE💚💖 AND 💛💙PANELPERDAY❤️🖤 FOR ALL THEIR HARD WORK ON THIS WEBTOON, MAKING IT LIKE THE BEST SCI-FI COMIC ON THE PLATFORM, HANDS-DOWN!! I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERYTHING ELSE THIS GORGEOUS STORY HAS TO OFFER NEXT!!

[peemanne]

Protagonist's POV: Looking at the perspectives of some of Yakuza's Dynamic Intros

So SnowiestAngeman put out a new video recently (best RGG content creator out there by the way go drop a sub if you somehow haven't already) and in it is this cute little segment where he talks about dynamic intros and jokes about how the titles on them are handled. He brings up a proposal that it might be based on what the playable character thinks of the person they're fighting against. And that part actually immediately got me thinking about some instances of that happening, and I think he might actually be right on this one! Some dynamic intros, be it by revoking someone's title or replacing it with a new one, can tell you how they see who they're fighting! A few instances began to pop up in my head and now I just wanna make a short little write-up to highlight some of them, because I really do think they're pretty cool when they do happen.

also here's the video if you wanna check it out. if you haven't already then you should because it's by snowiestangeman

ALSO SPOILER WARNING!!!!!! OOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!!!!

This post will contain spoilers for the following games:

Yakuza 4 (briefly touched on, mild spoilers for around the mid-game)

Yakuza 5 (Major spoilers for the endgame)

Yakuza 6 (Mild spoilers for a late-game fight)

Yakuza 7 / Like a Dragon (Major spoilers for the endgame)

If you haven't played those games yet and don't wanna get spoiled, then I'm afraid you might wanna avoid that keep reading button and skip this post for now. If you still want to do so then go do that I dunno I'm not your dad

Let's start with where I think it's the most obvious with some of Yakuza 5's intros. Here's Shinada's tussle with Daigo himself... and it's just Daigo to him. None of that Sixth Chairman of the Tojo Clan business, it's just Daigo Dojima that shows up to Shinada.

You gotta remember he just knows Daigo as his classmate from way back when, and only finds him again later when he presents himself in a mask and sunglasses to kickstart what Shinada's been doing for his whole chapter. When Daigo reintroduces himself proper, he's shocked about the whole yakuza big shot thing, sure, but when Daigo's about to push him and his dreams aside, none of what came out of his mouth really registered to him. He punches him out the door, (and sends him FLYING too like DAMN dude that was visceral) and he wants to make it clear to Daigo that he's the one with the pen to write his story. And to prove it, Shinada has to come face to face not with a big shot yakuza, the sixth chairman no less, but with an old friend.

With your daily reminder to listen to the Y5 Daigo theme again out of the way, let's move on to the next intro.

In Yakuza 4, when Saejima fights Majima, it's the first time he's seen him in years, and he's spent all of them wondering where the hell his brother was during the hit. As he arrives at Kamurocho he's been given bits and pieces of what he's been up to, but only really realizes how big he's become when he has to fight through waves of the Majima Family and Minami, only to be escorted by Majima himself to the batting cages, with countless Majima Family men still outside, still waiting for their boss. Before he can give out any of the answers Saejima's been waiting for, they have to go through the inevitable procedure of a fight. And as Saejima finally finds his brother, still left wondering who he's truly become and what really happened back in '85, he sees Majima, now a patriarch of his own family.

But when the two reunite in the finale of 5, after spending the whole game led to believe Majima's been killed, Saejima's forced to face down his brother yet again. And Majima's as transparent as can be in this ill-fated brawl. No mad dog persona to hide behind, no grudges to be settled. It's just the two on what could be the last fight of their lives, and you better believe the two of 'em are gonna do it the right way. Once again it strips the characters of their titles so that they can be faced as true as can be.

Next are some from Yakuza 6. Let's start with one that was actually mentioned in the video that started this whole thing, that being Akiyama's intro.

Yet again, no title to be found. No "CEO of Sky Finance" or anything, it's just Akiyama. I can interpret this in two ways:

Kiryu's acting really, REALLY stubborn at this moment. He wants nothing more than to be with his family, and with Haruka in a coma, Haruto might just be the only thing Kiryu can latch onto at this point. He's willing to break the law just to justify it to himself, and when Akiyama tries to stop him, it comes to blows. And just as the little pop-up on the top right will tell you, "Not even you can stand in my way." It doesn't matter who Akiyama is to Kiryu, it just matters that he's stopping him from taking Haruto, and that just means he has to plow right through him.

Since Akiyama had to close Sky Finance down temporarily, Kiryu immediately disassociates it from him and just sees Akiyama as unemployed again lmao

Anyways, moving on to a pretty big highlight of Y6's cast to me, here are Joon-Gi Han's intros.

You'll have to excuse the fact that his intros are mostly super lame-o intros for a bit. All the Joon-Gi-related budget went to giving him some of the coolest qte sequences in the Kiryu Saga so

When Joon-Gi is first introduced, it's very much as a flashy host. The scene with him in Kanrai shows you he's still a force to be reckoned with, sure, but that doesn't stop him from still keeping the class act on, from his charismatic demeanor to his flashy look. Obviously, Kiryu himself would still associate him with owning Stardust, a place that's offered him asylum and care when he needed it the most. Even after Joon-Gi reveals himself as Jingweon proper, a name that Kiryu's had a more than rocky history with, the intro has the title under the silver-haired boxer be "Owner of Club Stardust".

But when Kiryu and the Hirose boys later find themselves surrounded by multiple masked assailants looking to take Haruto, who else but Joon-Gi shows up for another fight with the dragon. It's clear as day for Kiryu now. He's still got his sportsmanship as he shoos his men away, but make no mistake: Han's with the Jingweon, and they sure as hell haven't forgotten what Kiryu's done to them.

And finally, let's cover Yakuza: Like a Dragon's intros with the final boss.

With the first group fight after taking down Tendo, Ichiban's probably ecstatic at this point. His plan's gone off perfectly, and the truth's now broadcast to the rest of the country. Here's one last victory lap: a frustrated Aoki and a bunch of his goons, not even bothering to mask the fact that they're yakuza anymore. The camera circles around Ichi and his party members, his imagination still running wild, as Aoki readies himself, complete with his "Governor of Tokyo" plaque.

Then Ichiban gets to confront Aoki alone. His imagination's starting to fade. He's not carrying a flashy flaming bat anymore, or wearing his bulky, golden armor. It's not an extravagant, epic RPG final clash that finishes up Ichiban's journey, but a quiet, confrontational fistfight as he finally gets the chance to face his brother alone. And it sure as hell isn't Aoki that shows up in his eyes.

To wrap this up, I just really like how something as simple as the titles shown in a dynamic intro can tell a little story by itself. It's a really small thing, but when done right, it's a really neat touch that can add a lot to the fights they're attached to. I know it's not really like this 100% of the time (Kiryu's dynamic intro in Yakuza 7 having the ex-fourth chairman title for example even when Ichiban realistically has no idea who he is yet), but dammit they're amazing and I hope they keep doing stuff like this. Hell, I might have missed a cool example, I don't know. Either way, it's just another common win for dynamic intros, also known as the coolest and bestest thing ever.

Thanks for reading.

[nehswritesstuffs]

fly little seagull, you’re too far from the nest - Part 2

I really liked how this chapter came out, just because it has some very specific scenes that underscore the immense amount of danger and peril that comes along with Doflamingo, which is something I feel can’t get highlighted enough.

Original Story - Part 1 (FFN/AO3)

While the people love a good princess, the princess in question isn’t exactly keen on the idea herself. [7826 words; AU where Doflamingo kidnaps a child and Law is determined to get her back]

Airy music played in the background as Nauja took notes out of her book, working hard as she studied. It was a text more complicated than Law-san had ever given her and she was doing her best to understand it, even though it was hard to do with her uncomfortable dress and the unfamiliar environment. She paused and a large hand gently took the paper away from her, Doflamingo looking over her work before returning it.

“Excellent job,” he affirmed. “You have the same thirst for knowledge and gift for attaining it as your father. Keep this up and we’ll make you a diplomat before you’re out of puberty.”

“Puberty involves big changes in hormones and that often comes with mood swings and temperament changes,” she noted, remembering what she learned from a book on the Polar Tang. “Why would anyone make someone going through puberty an important person like that?”

“…because you will be a princess, and cute young princesses are excellent symbols of a kingdom and their legitimacy.” He sat down across from her at the table, his large frame dwarfing hers. “I have a potential queen, but I do not have an heir. Training my intelligent, capable, adorable young niece will be something the people will love to watch me do.”

“You keep calling me that,” she said, brow furrowed. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“I am Cora-san’s brother.” The pencil dropped out of her hand and onto the table as she marveled at the new information. “That is what the kids used to call him, anyhow. His real name was Donquixote Rosinante, and he was the apple of my eye until he decided to run away with Law. We were in the middle of truly helping the boy when all of a sudden—poof—he was gone. Rosi thought he could help Law better on his own, when really all he did was abandon us.”

“…but Cora-jiisan rescued Law-san from a bad place,” Nauja recalled. “A bad man killed him for rescuing Law-san. How come?”

“He was afraid.” She tilted her head at his response. “He was afraid of what Law would grow up to be without our influence—what he has grown up to become without our influence—and I was willing to risk everything to get him back.” Doflamingo paused for a moment before standing again, moving to lift her into his arms. “Here, let me show you something.”

Nodding, Nauja allowed Doflamingo to pick her up, knowing that if she didn’t the Pressure was likely to come back. He carried her through the castle until they stopped outside a specific door and he put her down. One handed, he opened the door and ushered her into the hall, where five large chairs sat.

“Diamond, Club, Spade… Heart…” she said, seeing the designs on the backs of four of the chairs. “So, then this is Diamante’s seat, and this is Trebol’s, and this is Pica’s, but… who sits here…?”

“It used to be Rosi, and was supposed to be Law, but now,” he deftly placed her in the Heart Seat, “it will be you.”

“It… it will…?”

“It will, yes,” he beamed proudly. “Then, one day, hopefully a long, long time from now, I will be gone, and you will sit in the middle seat in my place. You will become the new Joker and the Reign of the Donquixote shall continue to flourish.”

“…but, I’m not a Donquixote…”

“Yes, your name might become a problem, so I plan on amending it during the Levely. Donquixote Nauja has a certain sound to it, no?”

“Why during the Levely…?”

“In order to officially make you my heir, I have to bring you before a council and give my reasoning for taking you into my family and turning you into the next Queen of Dressrosa when the time comes.” He bent down to be closer to eye-level with her, grinning widely. “Think of it: you will have the power to make or break entire countries. You will be the boogeyman and the savior—the fair knight and the shadowy villain—and no one will be able to tell you no. There shall be nothing that gets in your way.”

“I… I want to be a doctor,” she squeaked. “I want to draw medical pictures.”

“Ah, see, there’s where you’d be wasted. A young lady of your potential? You are meant for so much more than that. I mean… you do want to live up to your potential, right?”

“I guess…”

“Then as you grow, you shall become the greatest Heart to have ever sat on this chair,” he said. “You shall become an elegant princess, charming the crowds and tricking the masses. You shall exercise your grip on the world’s shadows, bending them to your will and crushing any opposition. You shall become more powerful than even the Celestial Dragons, making them regret the worst decision of their lives.”

“What… erm… what decision is that?” she asked. Doflamingo’s lips curled.

“Fufu… why, not letting me and my brother back into their folds, what else?” He chuckled as confusion swept over her face, the little girl not understanding the situation. “Daddy doesn’t even know this: Cora-san and I were born in Mariejois, favored sons in a powerful family. Our father… he made a deeply foolish decision and we were exiled. Not even bringing them his head granted us permission to return to our former lifestyle. Since then, everyone who has gotten in my way has fallen, whether it be Dressrosans or Marines or even my own dear brother.” He cradled her face in his hand, the Pressure coming down on her shoulders again. “We shall make the Celestial Dragons regret that day, regret it all, because they are the bad people, my dearest, wonderful, most special Nauja. They could not find it in them to forgive children for their father’s sins, so now the remaining child wants their children’s children to remember how foolish they once were. Do I make myself clear?”

She tried to open her mouth but her terror rendered her speechless. The Pressure pushed down harder, hurting.

“Yes!” she squeaked.

“Good.” The Pressure stopped and Doflamingo stood at his full height again, towering over Nauja’s tiny frame sitting in the chair. “Now let us get you back to your studies, as I believe you have training with Diamante later in the afternoon. We don’t want to miss it.”

Nauja nodded weakly and slid out of the chair, her eyes wide as she kept her gaze toward the tiles beneath their feet. She was scared, wanted to cry, wanted Law-san to show up and pop them back onto the Tang so they could sail far away. She wanted Viola-ya to hide her until the Hearts showed up to rescue her. Maybe Bepo-ya would show up—like he did on the island—and she would run to him with open arms instead of hiding like she had back then. He would bring her to the rest of the crew and they’d wait on the ship while Law-san set Dressrosa on fire. They would sail away together… they were going to leave together…

Nauja kept her head down the entire way back to the study. All she needed to do was survive until then.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Law sat on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, doing his best to avoid the Straw Hats while looking as irritable and brooding as possible. He was not in the mood to socialize, let alone do whatever was declared “fun” by the younger captain. All he wanted was to get to Dressrosa, and nothing was making the island appear in the distance any faster.

“Hey, shithead, stop being a standoffish prick and eat something.” He looked up and saw Blackleg-ya standing there with a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other. “I don’t cook for my health, you know.” Law wordlessly accepted the meal and slowly began to eat, going back to staring at the horizon. He flinched as Blackleg-ya sat down next to him—wasn’t delivering the food enough?

“I’ll bring the dishes back,” he scowled.

“Oh, I believe you, just, you’re freaking everyone out and I need to hear you say in your own words that we don’t have to fear you being on this ship.” Blackleg-ya leaned back onto the grass, putting his weight on his palms. “I know you’re worried.”

“Worried doesn’t even cover it,” Law grunted. He looked at the onigiri in his hand and resisted the urge to crush it as though it was Doflamingo’s head instead—if Blackleg-ya didn’t fuck with food, it was the least he could do in return. “I’ve been living in this man’s shadow for sixteen years; there’s not a lot I can do when he has my daughter kidnapped other than be worried.”

“How old is she, might I ask?” Law glanced over at Blackleg-ya to see genuine curiosity in the other man’s expression—he wasn’t fishing for information to manipulate.

“She’ll be eight in late summer,” he replied. It was not exact, but it was what he would afford the Northern man for his concern and amazing food. Fuck, he can’t let the crew know how good some of the homestyle dishes were that he’d been force-fed recently. “I’ll be damned if she’s spending her birthday with that monster.”

“So she’s a little younger than Momo? That’s good to know. Maybe they’ll get to play together.”

“I doubt; she doesn’t socialize with a lot of kids her age.”

“Well, I know kids are often pickier than adults; she have a favorite food I can make for her when she gets here? Least favorite?”

“I don’t know what she doesn’t like, but she enjoys umeboshi onigiri; and everyone thinks I’m the psychopath.”

Blackleg-ya chuckled at that. “Does her mother like it too?” Law didn’t answer and kept eating instead. “I’m sorry—should’ve realized why she was with you. Don’t seem like the type to keep a kid on a pirate ship in the face of a safer alternative.”

“She’s not my daughter by blood,” Law admitted. It was quiet between the two of them, the only sounds being that of the sea and the distant giggles of the other Straw Hats. “We found her and I learned my lesson long ago about handing people over into the care of the Marines, so I kept her.”

“Then why did you let us give the Punk Hazard kids to Smoker and Tashigi-chan?”

“Nami-ya’s conviction, mostly.” He popped the rest of the onigiri he was working on in his mouth and picked up another, holding its weight comfortably in his hand as he chewed and swallowed. “Nauja wasn’t originally mine, but I’ll do anything to keep her safe.”

“Nauja… that’s a cute name,” Blackleg-ya said. He watched the other man eat for a couple bites before laying down and staring up at the sky, resting his arms behind his head. “You know… I was raised by a single man too. Ex-pirate. He found me half-drowned on a rock when I was ten.”

“Did he now?”

“He did—the shitty old geezer was never meant for fatherhood. He cussed and he wasn’t afraid to hit me when I needed it and was just your classic ornery piece of shit… but, under it all, he did everything he could to make sure I stayed alive and safe and thriving. Learned just about everything I know about fighting and cooking from him; couldn’t’ve asked for a better dad.” He saw that Law was looking at him, so he shrugged. “Neither of us have ever said it, but we love each other, so I get it. Kids… they can change even the bitchiest stringbean’s priorities.”

“I am going to continue to eat and pretend that you did not just refer to me as a bitchy stringbean,” Law deadpanned. Blackleg-ya snickered on the lawn, knowing he got the other man good.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Luffy’s helping now—there’s no way you’re going to be without your kid for longer than you have to be.”

Law hoped the younger man was right.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was late at night as Nauja sat up in bed and looked around her bedroom. It was a large space, filled with all sorts of inert toys, as well as her desk and some wardrobes that housed her ever-expanding collection of dresses and other frilly things Giolla made. Once she was sure that there was no one physically in the room, she got out of bed and began checking different places where someone might be spying. She eventually found the baby transponder snail that was being used to monitor her and disabled it—no chances.

With the room clear, Nauja went into one of the wardrobes and dug her Sora backpack out from the bottom. She brought it to her bed and sat down atop the covers before opening it. Inside was everything that had come with her to Dressrosa… everything that connected her to the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates, and Law-san. Pulling out a book, she flipped past lots of different pages about medical things until she got to photos of her with the crew that she had hid inside. It hurt to look at them, but she knew she had to—every day she realized she was forgetting their faces more and more, and they were the last people she wanted to forget.

“What is that you have?”

Nauja gasped and held the book close to her chest, looking about the room to see who was there. A one-legged toy soldier stood on her open windowsill. He hopped off and stood just inside her room, causing her to narrow her eyes at him.

“Toys aren’t allowed inside people’s houses,” she said, remembering what Viola-san told her. “Why are you here…?”

“I am different than the other toys and therefore have different rules,” he replied. “My name is Thunder Solider and I am the protector of all good little children in need of help.” He paused, allowing her time to process that. “May I come closer?”

Nauja quietly nodded and Thunder Soldier approached.

“A medical book?”

“I want to be a doctor when I grow up,” she replied. Nauja placed the book down and allowed Thunder Soldier to look at the photo between the pages—it was of her and Professor Nanuk on Law’s shoulders, the captain wearing the smile that he only seemed to make when he knew she was around. “I miss him.”

“Of course you miss your father, nena,” Thunder Soldier replied, using that word that Viola did. “That is natural when a child is away from their parent.”

“Law-san is just the captain,” Nauja explained, shaking her head. “I’m not his daughter—I’m no one’s daughter. I only let Uncle Doffy think what he does because that way I stay safe.”

“Every little girl is someone’s daughter. Why would you miss a man whose shoulders you sat on despite not being your father? Wouldn’t you miss someone else first?”

“I guess…”

“I have a daughter, who was a little younger than you when I was separated from her,” Thunder Soldier said. He placed his hand on hers, stiff lacquered wood against soft skin, hoping to share strength. “He is coming to save you… just as I did my best to protect my daughter.”

“Where… where is she…?” she asked. “Is she another toy?”

“She is not, and I am glad.” The toy then looked at the text on the page and Nauja could feel his frustration. “You understand this?”

“Yes; this is an important book,” she said. “Law-san wanted me to read it from cover to cover until I understood every word. There’s still some that I have trouble with, but he usually is good at explaining.”

“Then he is indeed a good father, and you shall indeed become a good doctor,” he replied. Thunder Soldier placed the photo back in the book and gently closed the cover. “You are not alone, child. There are those here who wish to protect you while your father comes to save you; nothing is like fighting for a child’s future. You won’t have to worry about the Levely, because something tells me he’ll be here before then.”

“Wait… how did you know?!”

“Everyone is talking about it: Doflamingo announced his intention to make you the Crown Princess earlier today.” Thunder Solider took a piece of paper out of his hat and handed it to Nauja. Sure enough, that was what it said. “I have also heard stories of two Pica Army officers needing to be put back together after a run-in with a particularly nasty Devil Fruit user… one that can take people apart while keeping them alive…”

“That’s Law-san!” Nauja gasped happily. She then froze as she realized that she was crying. “That’s… my dad… he’s going to save me.”

“Do not give up hope,” Thunder Soldier insisted. He placed his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “Tell me your name, so that I might not forget it.”

“Nauja,” she said through sniffles, “but if Law-san is really my dad like you say he is, then my name is Trafalgar Nauja.”

“Then you must be brave, Trafalgar Nauja, for things will be very scary for a while and there will not be many good adults to help you.” They both then heard movement in the corridor and panicked. “I’ll be back soon!”

“Thank you, Soldier-ya!” Nauja began hurriedly packing her things as Thunder Soldier fled from the room; he was gone and her backpack hidden under the bed by the time Dellinger walked in.

“…and what are you doing up this late, you little fucking brat?” the teen sneered. Nauja didn’t answer, instead pretending that she had been interrupted while playing with a doll. He went to the bed and ripped the doll from her hands. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

“My doll,” she lied, pointing at the inert toy dangling in his grasp.

“Need I remind you, brat, that you haven’t charmed everyone here. I was the candidate for Young Master’s heir before he heard that your father fucked what was clearly the ugliest woman in the world and I am not just going to give up my spot that easily to accident of birth.”

“You’re a bad, evil person,” she replied, head held high. Dellinger smirked at that, crushing the doll’s head into splinters.

“I was found and I was chosen.” He tossed the broken toy aside and instead chose to loom over the child. “Your blood means nothing but outdated obligation here.”

“That’s fine, because I don’t want to be here anyhow.” She recoiled when a grin crept across his face.

“Then you won’t mind being victim of a little… accident…?” he purred.

“I want to go back to my dad.”

“Daddy can’t save you here.”

“Dellinger; enough.” Teen and child both looked at the door and saw Doflamingo’s towering form standing in the darkened corridor. “I think you have somewhere to be.”

After exhaling in irritation, Dellinger sneered at Nauja before heading out the door. Doflamingo watched him turn down the corridor before stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Nauja gripped her blanket in worry—what was going on?

“An important lesson to learn: gods do not fear trash,” he told her as he strode across the floor in a few steps. He sat on the edge of her bed and leaned over her, the Pressure bearing down on her. “You and I, my dear, will be gods reigning over these petty worms, giving purpose to those who choose to follow us. Don’t mind Dellinger—he’s not the best at keeping his cool. Never has been.”

“…but… we’re Humans…”

“I was a god before my father sinned,” he reminded her. “I know what it takes to become one, and there is one thing you need to remember.”

Silence settled over them, unnerving the child.

“Wh-what is th-that…?” she asked. He held up his hand and twitched his fingers similar to how Law would, except this time she felt something wrap itself around her neck and tighten.

“The only fear you need to hold in your heart is reserved for me, little one,” he insisted. Nauja gasped for air and felt something wet on her neck before both the Pressure and whatever was on her neck vanished. “Now get some sleep—fufufu—tomorrow is a busy day, and you have much work to do before you become Corazón.”

She waited until he left the room to feel her neck—blood.

‘Law-san… where are you…?’

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nauja fell asleep that night clutching her medical textbook, having taken it out from under her bed and kept it close. A photo of her and Law-san laid out where she could see it in the moonlight and she couldn’t help but cry while she drifted off. It hurt, and she was scared, and nothing felt right anymore. A hazy image of Thunder Soldier was the last thing she was aware of before she was sound asleep, her thoughts wandering towards how sad he seemed and how he felt safe like Law-san. Whomever his daughter was, she thought, was really, really lucky to have him.

She woke in the morning to find the photo and textbook gone, everything being placed in her backpack and stored in the bottom of the wardrobe again in the middle of the night. Maybe, she imagined, Soldier-ya had come by the night before, and he really was crying… but… toys couldn’t cry or feel warm as they hugged… could they…? Then again, how could toys have children, or even come inside a Human house? She had so many questions, and yet there was barely anyone to ask.

Nauja hurried to dress herself and head down to breakfast; the last thing she wanted was one of the Family to come in to fetch her.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The trip to Dressrosa felt as though it would never end. While the Straw Hats mostly avoided Law and the Sack Full of People Bits Called Cesar Clown, it was difficult to completely dodge the other pirate captain and the mood he brought along hung sourly on the air. Nothing seemed to lift the gloom and no one could really blame him. If that was their kid that Doflamingo had kidnapped, they’d be pissed off too.

…and frankly, it was bad enough it was Torao’s kid. Their tempers were flared all the same.

Eventually, they all reached the island known for its warm climate, amazing food, and fiery women. The pirates broke into three groups, with Nami, Chopper, and Brook staying on the ship with Momonosuke; Luffy, Zoro, Franky, and Sanji headed off to figure out how to destroy the SMILE factory and rescue the Wanolese captives; Kin’emon, Usopp and Robin went off with Law in order to hand over the Sack Full of Cesar Bits, but first…

“What are we doing here looking shady as hell?” Usopp grumbled. The four were sitting at a cafe pretending to have some espresso while they waited for Law’s “informant” to show.

“Just keep your hat on,” Law scowled. He took another sip of his drink and tried to not itch the false mustache tickling his upper lip. The things he wouldn’t go through to protect his daughter…

“Ah, there you are,” a voice said sweetly. Usopp looked to his right, only to see a voluptuous pair of breasts in a low-cut dress directly next to his face. He froze and went red, feeling more like Sanji than anything, instead looking up towards the woman’s face to see curls nearly as tight as his and a coy smile as she placed her hands on his shoulders. At least Kin’emon seemed furious…?

“Glad to see you too, Ikka-ya,” Law scoffed in amusement. The sight of his engineer in heels and a flowing dancer’s dress was almost too much for him to not break into laughter—and him without a Photo Den Den for a bit of counter-blackmail. “Now that we’re all here, I think we can get going.” He stood and handed the Sack Full of Cesar Bits to Kin’emon, who hefted it over his shoulder. “We have plenty to do before the party.”

“We do,” she agreed, her voice higher than it normally was. Ikkaku latched onto Usopp’s arm soon as he stood, which made Robin chuckle in amusement. “The hall we got is this way; come on.” She pulled him forward, leading the group through the bustling streets. Eventually they reached a terrace house that she led them into, immediately shoving Usopp away soon as the door was shut and locked.

“Ow! Hey! What was that for?!” he yelped.

“I’m fucking sick of this place,” she glowered, voice dropping down to normal. “Look at me, Law! Look at me!”

“I’m looking,” Kin’emon offered. Blood dribbled down from his nose as he took in the sight, only barely able to register the oversized wrench in time for him to dodge.

“This is un-fucking-practical for my specific skill set, but noooo… we need to ‘blend in’ or some shit like that,” Ikkaku huffed. “It’s like no one’s allowed to do anything normal in this bloody fucking place.”

“…and your specific skill set?” Robin inquired. Ikkaku shrugged casually.

“Mechanics and machinery, specializing in a top-of-the-line submarine ship,” she grinned, tone instantly shifting. “None of this passion and frills business for me.”

“You know you can do both, right?” Shachi mentioned, poking his head from around the corner. She flipped him a rude hand gesture that he expertly ignored. “Oi, it’s secure upstairs. Come on; leave the sack down here.” Kin’emon placed the Sack Full of Cesar Bits on the floor and Ikkaku dragged it off towards another room that had other Heart Pirates in it, their guests unsure what was going to become of their chopped-up captive. They then followed Shachi upstairs to an inner room that had Bepo, Penguin, Clione, and Jean Bart crowded around a table.

“About damn time you showed up,” Penguin smirked. He looked at his captain’s extras and raised an eyebrow. “This everyone you could muster?”

“The others are either watching the ship or going to destroy the SMILE factory while Doflamingo’s occupied,” Robin offered. She was merely having fun watching as the giant polar bear Mink attacked Law in a fuzzy hug, completely ruining his stoic image.

“Verily,” Kin’emon agreed, “and once I have the information to best assist the others, I shall join the group readying to destroy the evil fruit and rescue my comrades. The smaller and more discreet a contingent approaches the Warlord, the better.”

“…and so we’ve got a sniper and the Devil Child at our disposal,” Jean Bart noted. “This bodes well.”

“Of course!” Usopp said, legs shaking. “Whatever you need us for, we’ve got it!”

“A magic bullet to take out Doflamingo from half a mile out would be nice,” Clione snarked. “No, seriously, so much would get solved if we could just take him out.”

“Considering none of you can take someone out unless it involves ice cream or booze, tell me what your sources and groundwork uncovered,” Law deadpanned. Clione bit his lower lip in irritation—at least it was the truth.

“Alright, so, we do have a plan,” Penguin said as he unfurled the map. It was crudely drawn, but was roughly the size and shape of Dressrosa, along with the divisions. “So here,” he tapped on the map, “is where we are. Best we can tell is that the SAD and SMILE processing is here. Nauja is being kept here. We have a rotating skeleton crew keeping the Polar Tang ready to go here… and this,” he dragged his finger slowly along a marked path, “is the best way to get here.” He stopped on a sad, squiggly blotch labeled Green Bit.

“Have you been able to get a confirmation on Nauja’s safety?” Law asked. Shachi shrugged.

“No one’s been able to get visuals on her, but the fact there’s a little princess living on the Royal Plateau again has a bunch of citizens really excited. Doflamingo has made it clear that he’s raising her to be the next Heart and Head of the Donquixote Family.”

“Grooming her to do his bidding, you mean,” he growled. No one argued that fact—the kid was in a tough spot. “How did he announce that? Do you know?”

“Right before we got here he put out a proclamation that he had just been given custody of his niece, and that she is going to become the official Crown Princess after the Levely. There were still flyers here and there announcing it.” Penguin took a folded piece of paper from his jacket and presented it to his captain. He opened it and saw a photo of Nauja, standing ramrod straight in a dress he knew she never owned before. Her fists were clenched at her sides and she was looking away from the Photo Den Den, exuding extreme discomfort with the photoshoot. Any number of people could have seen the image as adorable and spunky, yet for the ones in the building… her defiance was clear and the rage Law felt was tempered with pride.

“So that’s your daughter?” Usopp asked, tilting his head curiously. “She definitely doesn’t want to be there, poor kid.”

“I’m glad you were able to save a copy, so we now know who to look out for,” Robin added.

“There’s only one other little kid in the palace,” Bepo replied. “If there’s a procession of the ‘royal house’ or any of the Donquixote Officers and a little kid is there that clearly doesn’t want to be, then it’s her. Next closest is a teenager and… well… he’s short, but not so short that someone would confuse them.”

“What about the other little kid?” Robin wondered. “Should we take her as well?”

“No—she’s clearly a dedicated part of the family,” Shachi said. “Eyepatch monocle, bright hair, penchant for grapes, of all things. We’ve only gotten a couple visuals—almost as tough to see her as it is to see Nauja. No one’s excited about that kid, to be honest.”

“Rumor has it,” Jean Bart added, “that she’s been a child the entire ten years Doflamingo has been in power—it’s very likely the side effect to a Devil Fruit and she’s much older. Information is kept very tight around her—she’s too important to put in the spotlight.”

“At least I know you won’t be trying to drag her along too,” Law frowned. “I’m running a pirate ship, not a daycare.”

“Big words for someone who lets Nauja-chan walk all over him,” Penguin deadpanned. He turned towards their allies and snickered. “Seriously: you haven’t lived until you’ve seen this Resting Grumpface wander around with Human Sunshine on his shoulders. It’s the most adorable fucking thing you’ve ever seen.” He ignored the death-glare he was getting from his captain, if only because he had plenty of practice over the years.

“Sounds like when Luffy decides to perch on Zoro’s shoulders,” Robin chuckled. “She sounds adorable.”

“Yeah, she really is the cutest,” Bepo added. “We can’t wait until she’s back with us again.”

“Verily, we should rescue this young maid as we defeat her kidnappers,” Kin’emon agreed. “You were able to do the same for my son, and it would be a dishonor to allow her continued separation from her father for any longer than possible.”

“Then you might need my help.” Everyone at the table tensed and turned towards the corner where a toy soldier was standing. How the fuck…? “I am Thunder Soldier and I have laid eyes on the child you are after.”

“How do we know you’re on our side, Soldier-san?” Robin asked. The toy shrugged.

“Fuck Doflamingo.”

“He makes a convincing argument,” Shachi noted, pointing at the toy. “Even when asked, I’ve not met a toy yet that is capable of saying that even when it’s clear they want to.”

“Is she okay?” Law asked, trying his best to not sound desperate. “When did you last see her?”

“Last night, and every night this week,” the toy said honestly. “She has photographs that she looks at when her captors are asleep. They keep her going… keep her grounded. There is little she wouldn’t do in order to see her father and uncles again, but knows she needs to be good and be brave.”

“Thank you,” Law nodded. He glanced over at his crew members and set his expression into something ruthless and determined. “Let’s get our kid.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nauja sat at the desk in her room studying as the mid-morning breeze filtered in through the open window and brought with it the smells and sounds of the gardens around the palace. She sighed heavily as she allowed her head to sink onto the polished wooden surface—all the work she was doing was taking so much out of her. Not only did she have to study like she normally did, but she had swordsmanship lessons with Diamante, marksmanship lessons with Gladius and Baby 5, martial arts training with Lao G and Dellinger… it was so much and it was tiring her out more than sleeping at night could fix for rest. Part of her wondered if it would even be possible to go and run away at this point. Maybe this was what she had to do after all…

“Nauja! There you are, nena!” The girl jumped up, startled, and looked to see that Viola was in her room. “Pack your things! You’re going to meet your father!”

Law-san?!

“What do you mean?!” Nauja asked.

“Exactly that—Doffy is getting ready to take you to Green Bit to exchange you for one of his lackeys,” Viola explained. She held Nauja’s face and kissed the girl on her brow. “Your time with us is going to be shorter than I feared.”

“Thank you for being so nice, Viola-ya,” Nauja sniffled. She then ran to the wardrobe and grabbed her backpack, putting in it everything she had brought with her and everything else she wanted to take along. “Oh! Should I change into my boilersuit?!”

“No—make it look like you’re still a princess until you’ve been handed over,” Viola advised. Nauja finished packing her backpack and ran into the woman’s legs to hug her. “You’ve been so brave—just a while longer yet.”

“…and then I can go back to Law-san and the crew?”

“Not likely.” Viola and Nauja glanced over towards the door and saw Doflamingo standing there with a frown on his face. “Meva vida, mi amor, la reina, you weren’t supposed to get her ready until later.”

“She needs to be prepared, Doffy,” Viola replied coolly. “She gets to see her father today, correct?”

“Today is the day that I show our niece and heir what true power is,” he stated. Nauja could feel the Pressure coming down so hard on her shoulders that it sent her to the floor. Even Viola had collapsed, positioning herself in such a way that the Pressure lifted slightly off Nauja so she could breathe better. “You are going to come with me, my dear child, and Uncle Doffy shall show you what it means to be a god amongst mice.”

“Keep your hands off her, Doffy,” Viola spat, straining against the Pressure. “She is just a little girl.”

“Like Rebecca was?” he asked icily. Nauja could see the fear on Viola’s face, though didn’t understand why it was there. “This little one shall be all mine to mold and nurture into a fine Corazón, do you understand?”

Viola did not answer.

“Do you understand?!” Doflamingo bellowed. The Pressure intensified and Viola passed out, collapsing atop of Nauja, who panicked as she turned the woman over and attempted to shake her awake. “Leave her; we have better things to do.”

“I’m not going with you!” Nauja declared. “You’re a bad person! I just want my dad! You don’t have to hurt her because of it!”

“Oh, except, I do,” he replied, lips curling in a grin. “Fufufu… you have much to learn, little one, and your dear, devoted Uncle Doffy is going to make sure that you stay on the correct path.” She felt herself being lifted by nothing and soon she was sitting in the crook of his arm. “Power, my darling, is more than you can ever imagine. Now… let’s get you settled for the time being…”

Nauja bit her bottom lip and tried to not cry or squirm—she was terrified more than she could express. She looked at Viola laying on the floor of her room and knew that nothing was going to be okay.

“What… what are you going to do to me…?” she squeaked. Doflamingo simply grinned.

“Nothing… yet.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Get out of there! It’s a trap! We’ll explain later!”

“Blackleg-ya, my daughter is on the line here!” Law snapped at the transponder snail in his hand. “If he doesn’t come and deliver Nauja, then we’ve got bigger problems on our hands!”

“…and I’m telling you that Nauja might not have a dad to rescue her if you don’t get out of there right now!” The Den Den call ended and the wee snail in Law’s hand went back to sleep.

“Fuck,” he hissed. Law then noticed a tug at his trouser leg—Robin had materialized half her body in the sand next to the Sack Full of People Bits Called Cesar. “Where in the hell are you and Nose-ya?”

“Further into the jungle—that was Sanji, I take it?”

“It was; you two need to get off the island—Blackleg-ya says Green Bit’s a trap.”

“We’re actually underground right now,” she explained. “We’ll move when it’s safe to and meet you at the port.”

“You’re my ace in the hole,” he warned. “If my daughter and I need you and you’re not there…”

“…have faith, Torao,” she smirked. The copy gave him a wink before petals began to appear. “Usopp and I are not in the business of letting kids as cute as yours down.” She then vanished, right on time for the Marines to show up, as well as…

Doflamingo, and he was carrying Nauja in his arm.

“I came as agreed; now let her go!” Law shouted.

“Fufufu… I don’t know about that,” Doflamingo snickered. “Would you look at that! The Marines! What a coincidence…!”

“Law-san!” Nauja shrieked. She tried to struggle against Doflamingo’s grasp in an effort to free herself. “Law-san, help me!”

“I have to say: it was a real interesting thing to learn you had a kid,” Doflamingo said. “Having her call you by your first name was a clever misdirect, but not clever enough.” The Marines all stayed quiet, as though at reluctant attention.

“Wait… none of this adds up,” Law realized. “Even as a Shichibukai and a king, you don’t have the pull for this.” A chill ran down his spine as he realized that the blind Marine holding a sword was an admiral of all things. Fuck. “What are you planning, Doflamingo…?”

“This goes much deeper than you’ll ever know,” the other Warlord replied smugly. “I am all-powerful, and I shall make this child that as well once she’s officially my heir. Don’t you want her to live to her full potential?”

“That is my daughter, Doflamingo, and you kidnapped her!”

“I brought her home—there is nothing else to it.”

Tch… Law went through the dozens of different things he could counter with in his brain, deciding that if he was going to put on a show for a Marine Admiral, the he was going to make it good.

“Then I challenge your claim to the Throne of Dressrosa,” he announced darkly.

“Fu… you have no claim.”

“That is my daughter, who you have publicly announced as your niece; therefore, I challenge you based on my adoptive father’s right to claim. As the son of Donquixote Rosinante, you cannot deny me.”

“Is this true, Doflamingo?” the admiral asked.

“No,” the blond huffed. “My brother had no son.”

“Then how is she your niece?”

“It is merely how I am referring to her before I have her formally adopted as my daughter at the Levely and brought to the levels of the gods,” Doflamingo lied. He looked at Law and narrowed his eyes in a sneer. “This is nothing but a boy who rejected the gifts I gave him.”

“I might have rejected your gifts, but that was because your brother gave me better ones,” Law interjected.

“What might that be?” the Admiral wondered. Doflamingo went to answer, yet Law cut him off.

“Love, freedom, and ultimately, his life.” He watched as the admiral tilted his head.

“So you are the boy 01746 died for,” he realized. “I was made to learn about incidents related to this on my way over here from Marineford—if that is the case, then he has indeed inherited that right of claim, as I don’t know what that is other than an act of fatherhood.”

Fuck… it worked.

“Then I, Trafalgar Law, Heir to Donquixote Rosinante’s title of Prince of Dressrosa, demand the return of my daughter or else Dressrosa shall have a legitimacy crisis on her hands.”

“My brother lost all standing when he betrayed me,” Doflamingo hissed. With him distracted, Nauja bit down on his forearm and he yelped in pain as he dropped her. “The fuck?!” Law quickly put up a Room and swapped Nauja with a small crab that had been skittering in front of him. Soon as the Room vanished, he dropped to his knees and held her close.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered in her ear.

“I missed you too,” she squeaked. “I love you, Law-san.”

“Ik leafd du, famke.” His voice cracked and he put up a Room that engulfed the beach and part of the forest. She was only able to look at him for a single confused moment before she vanished into thin air, replaced by a bug.

“…and Flevench; the things keep adding,” the admiral noted. “So then tell me, Prince of Dressrosa, how true are the rumors that you have allied with the Straw Hat Pirates? An alliance would mean a revocation of your Warlord status, but if it was a case of their subordination…”

“Yes,” Doflamingo grinned. “Tell us, you little shit: what’s your deal with the Straw Hats?”

If he didn’t play his cards right, Law knew that everything was going to hell.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Everything was warm and fuzzy as Nauja started to wake up. The last thing she remembered was falling down in someplace dark, but as she opened her eyes, she saw that it was bright and cheerful, wherever she was. A tiny face appeared just inches above her, causing the young girl to gasp.

“Oh!” the person squeaked. “The child is awake! The heir! She is awake!” A bunch of gasps followed—there was more than just the one small person that was standing on her chest.

Soon as Nauja tried to move, she knew she was in trouble, because she couldn’t. She could only lift her head a little bit, seeing that there were other tiny people around her. They were in a place that looked like it was underground, except there were flowers and tree trunks and all sorts of things that only really belonged above ground. She tried not to panic, but tears still formed in her eyes.

“Let me go!” she demanded.

“We cannot!” a tiny voice declared. “You are the young heir to the Donquixote Family! You must be here to reveal our location to your uncle!”

“Why would I do that?!” Nauja struggled against what was keeping her down and failed. “He kidnapped me from my dad! Why would I work for him?! I am not a Donquixote!”

“If you’re not a Donquixote, then why did he say that are you the heir?”

“…because he’s a weird creep who thinks he can do whatever he wants!” There was much deliberation between the voices—they agreed that Doflamingo was a weird creep, at the very least, and thinking he could do whatever he wanted did hold merit…

“Someone get Leo then!” someone said. “She should be free!”

“Right away! Right away!” A couple moments and she felt something tugging at her arm, suddenly freeing her.

“Are you Nauja…?” The little girl sat up soon as she was able to and saw a tall lady in a short, dark blue dress who was staring curiously at her.

“Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Law-san’s,” the lady explained gently. “We hid in the forest before Doflamingo and the Marines surrounded him.”

“We…?”

“Yeah!” Nauja turned her head and saw another normal-sized person, this one a man with a long nose and hair like Ikkaku. “You happen to be in the presence of the mighty warrior Usoland!”

“Usopp…”

“We came to help your dad exchange you for Cesar Clown!” the man explained. “Of course, a few things didn’t go as planned, but we’re confident that we can finish the mission and get you back to your dad and the rest of the Heart Pirates! They’re all here in Dressrosa waiting for you!”

Relief washed over Nauja at his words, tears and snot running down her face as she realized she was finally going to go home. She continued crying as the lady picked her up and held her close, rocking her as she stroked her hair and rubbed circles on her back. The little people all stared at them, feeling very guilty for sewing her to the ground—she was just a kid after all.

“If you don’t like Doflamingo, then you might be able to help us!” a dwarf decided excitedly. Nauja recognized him as the one who undid the thing that sewed her to the ground. “I don’t want to take a kid to battle, but you can help us confirm things that we can’t! Like what’s inside the palace! Then when we go into Dressrosa, you can hide while we do the rest!”

“…but I want to fight!” Nauja decided. “Even if we are really related, Uncle Doffy is a bad man who hurts people! I want to make sure he never hurts anyone else!”

“You’ll be able to best do that by not being a target,” Usopp said sagely. “Don’t you worry—everything is going to be okay. Your dad is here, Your crew is here. We’re here. None of us are going to let him get away with shit.”

Nauja knew that was something she could believe in, if anything. There was something about these people that made her feel so much better… and really… what choice did she have?

[gogogoats]

Dragonblade Deep Dive - Chapter Six

Chapter Five

The views expressed in this synopsis/analysis/review/whatever it is are entirely my own, and as a long-standing Gunther fan who sometimes struggles with change they are neither perfect nor unbiased. I will do my best however to be fair. My resolve is weakening.

Chapter Six: The Rust Mountains

Jane is annoyed that Dragon ate the turnips before he was given permission. It’s hard to know if these interactions between them highlighting that Jane doesn’t really have any control over Dragon’s behaviour are purely intended as comedic, or if they are hinting at a darker issue on the horizon. Dragon previously wanting to bring Haroldus to his cave and question him makes me wonder if it’s the latter.

Jane shows Dragon the map Haroldus gave her, and they set off in search of the dragon rune cavern. Jane takes the time to reflect on how special it is that she is flying on the back of a dragon, as it is such an everyday occurrence for her. She asks Dragon if he’s happy, before propositioning him with the idea of moving the three sisters’ problem bats into his cave. Dragon says it will depend on Squeaky, his resident bat. Jane knows she can only ask Dragon to do something and hope that he will agree. She considers how their relationship has changed from the simple agreement to help each other it began as and is now complicated and co-dependent.

Back at the castle, Jester is daydreaming about swimming in the fountain as he tutors Lavinia. They are sitting under a topiary, originally planted by Rake’s grandfather and now maintained by Rake. There’s a line about Rake’s father abandoning him casually dropped in here, too.

Lavinia is learning about hippopotamus, which she finds boring (really?) She wants to play maidens and monsters, until Theodore appears, at which point she promises to defend Jester from “the Grey Knight”. This kid is exhausting.

Theodore is looking for Jane, and Jester tells him she left early that morning, before sunrise. Theodore is relieved to hear that she was carrying her dragonblade, as he “believes she will need it”. Excuse me, what now? Do you believe that your old friend has sent your young charge into a trap?

Jane and Dragon arrive at the Rust mountains. They are snow capped despite it being a hot, hot summer, so we’re obviously quite a long way up. It’s a wonder Jane isn’t freezing flying through snow cold air.

The map directs them to Broken Teeth Peak, which Dragon thinks looks more like a crouching dragon.

Jane sets off on foot to investigate the lay of the land, and immediately seems to know something that we the reader are kept totally in the dark about. She decides she must “get Dragon to safety and play the charade out to ‘the end’ without him” which makes absolutely ZERO sense but here we are.

They are overlooking a ravine which is too narrow for Dragon to fly into. Jane proposes climbing down his tail and then sliding the rest of the way. Dragon isn’t keen but Jane uses the idea of the runes in the cave to bait him into it. The mouth of a cave has just become visible in the early morning light.

The tip of Dragon’s tail is evidently so ticklish that Jane’s hair brushing against it once led to her being sent flying from the battlements and knocked unconscious on the ground below.

Jane jumps and slides down into the ravine, remembering a time when she went sledding in the snow with Lavinia and Jester. Dragon asks how she will get back up and Jane tells him he’ll have to fly back to the last village they saw and borrow some rope. Dragon interprets this to mean rope and turnips, which Jane doesn’t fight him too hard on, she just wants him gone.

Theodore is brooding in his office, gazing out his window as he reflects that Jane is being tested now as never before (again, what now?) Why didn’t he say anything to her before letting her run off into danger? What was his plan if she hadn’t taken the dragonblade?

News of Dragon is what brought Theodore to the castle originally, and it brought Haroldus too. “Their reasons might be different…” so if Theodore was altruistic, is Haroldus not? Theodore believes that many others will be drawn towards the kingdom, in search of Dragon.

Theodore has been fighting the urge to drag Haroldus into the dungeons and torture a confession from him. This is all getting very confusing. Why do the characters all suddenly seem to know so much while we are told nothing?

Gunther arrives. He is hesitant in his approach, a fault Theodore decides will get him killed one day. A fault Theodore could have helped to train out of him but that was too much effort, I guess?

Gunther tells Theodore that Jane and Dragon have both vanished. Theodore asks what his point is, confusing the young knight. Gunther has completed his patrol through the village, and has seen that Ivon’s horse is back, along with “the other guards” (who???). Everyone is awaiting Theodore’s inspection, which is overdue. Gunther ‘observes’ that Theodore seems worried. He says he means no disrespect. Theodore responds by comparing him to his father. It’s an infuriating scene, to be honest. Throughout this novel there are very few dialogue tags, nothing to suggest tone, so in most cases we have to take what the characters are saying at face value. Gunther is not being rude or disrespectful, he is being an observant knight and concerned partner to Jane. But just as it is with Jane, Theodore seems determined to find fault and denigrate him for absolutely no reason.

Theodore tells Gunther to attend to his duties, “as Jane is attending to hers”. She sodding well is not!

In fact, Jane is bumming around outside of a cave in the middle of a mountain range. She is scoping out the ravine to make sure she is alone. There is no one out there, so she concludes that someone must be waiting for her inside the cave instead. Entering the cave will cost her the advantage she has  on the outside. She decides it can’t be Haroldus as the cave is a day’s ride from the castle.

After trying to figure out the unknown person’s unknown plan, Jane decides to just start yelling at the problem. Someone pokes their head out of the cave and Jane recognises them.

End chapter.

Overall impressions:

Geeze. What a whole lot of not much that was. We’re certainly being kept in the dark in a way that does nothing to elevate the plot. It’s clear that we’re heading into the “serious” section of the novel now, because the characters’ attitudes and thoughts have changed so instantly and confusingly. Suddenly Theodore has had suspicions about Haroldus all along and yet he invited him into the castle, gave him free access to Dragon and Jane, and allowed him to give Jane that map and for her to leave without giving her a single word of caution? And that’s supposed to make sense to us?? Likewise, Jane somehow knows that she was walking into a trap the whole time, and so she sent Dragon away and just walked on into it?

That scene with Theodore and Gunther. *seethes* What was the point of that? To show how bitter and uncharitable Theodore is? The ongoing issue with this novel’s approach to Gunther, or the other characters’ attitudes towards him, is that Gunther hasn’t done a damn thing to deserve the way he’s being treated. He hasn’t said or done ANYTHING that could justify the absolute venom being flung at him.

And as to his “hesitant” step, gee, I wonder where he picked that up? Could it have been while living with his volatile and physically intimidating (at best) father? The unhealthy relationship between Magnus and Gunther was no secret to Theodore, who could have intervened or at least taken the time to train Gunther in ways that could help and give him back the gift of self-confidence. Theodore has been an authority/educational figure in Gunther’s life since he was a young child, and he has known that his homelife was beyond miserable and his father’s influence was extremely negative. If now, at the ancient age of 16, Gunther doesn’t have the confidence to stride into a room without first ensuring it is safe to do so, that is indeed a huge failure. But not of Gunther’s.

Time passed since the start of the novel: Day two, morning continued

[ermakeys]

An Essential Aspect Of Gravity Is Not Being Afraid To Fall

This is Chapter 2. Chapter 1 can be found here.

AO3

Chapter 2: Naalol

Summary:

The bro squad reaches the destination of Aran’s transmissions. What could they find there?

“Oh, wow, what does this do?”

Aran regretted inviting Chad, Purse and Kit onto their ship. Without even turning to look back at the passenger area, they growled, “If you touch anything in my armory, I will space you.”

They heard Chad laugh at their threat. He knew they wouldn’t actually do it. The temptation was there though. The hours spent on Aran’s ship was starting to wear on them. This was their sanctuary. The place they retreated to when they became overwhelmed with everything happening on Coruscant.

Now a jedi that could read his mind, a well-meaning and curious clone and his blackmailing clone brother were all seated below. Seated among all of Aran’s things and secrets. They had rushed to hide everything they didn’t want to explain away, but they were still wracking their mind, trying to remember if they had forgotten anything.

“No, seriously, what is this and what does it do?” Chad called from below and Aran heaved a sigh. They twisted in their seat to look down and saw Chad holding up what looked like a solid pale green cane. Kit hovered next to Chad, just as curious and it made Aran nervous that they didn’t see Purse.

“Kit step back and then twist the top with both hands,” Aran answered, twisting back to focus on flying again. There was a moment of silence before they heard the quiet sound of the cane extending into a spear and the crackle of electricity activating. Aran smirked when they heard Chad and Kit yelp and a clatter of the spear hitting the floor.

“Woah! Where did you find this, bro?”

Aran briefly considered not answering, but grimaced under their helmet. This wasn’t something that could be turned on them later. Hopefully.

“Did a job on Ildul and it was gifted to me,” Aran said and their mind drifted to that memory. It had been an exciting hunt. One of the first they had been allowed to join. “The elder was grateful for the help.”

Aran flipped a switch to activate the intercom and drawled, “Now, I’d appreciate all of you putting back whatever you found and return to your seats. We’re about to exit hyperspace. Get out of whatever you are digging around, Purse.”

They ignored the way they heard something clatter and cussing somewhere further in the ship below them. Aran flipped a few switches and rested their hands on the controls as they stared at the viewport. At the stars that flashed by.

It felt like a lifetime ago that they had seen hyperspace for the first time.

Stars raced across the transparisteel. They left streaks of white behind as Adiik stared out at them with wide eyes. It reminded them of the meteor showers they’d seen back on Mandalore sometimes. Only now it felt like they were in the meteor shower, racing past the bright lights.

They couldn’t tear their eyes away and whispered, “Are we a comet now?”

Aran tightened their grip on the controls. The ship shuddered as it exited hyperspace and the planet of Naalol came into view. The white and green planet began to fill the viewport and Aran tapped the coordinates they needed into the computer. They leveled their descent and within minutes they flew over the mountains of Naalol.

It was a quiet and peaceful planet. The most excitement it saw was when a trade ship arrived to take the fleece, mining goods and crafts of the locals and brought back goods from the galaxy. Aran was almost a hundred percent certain that their arrival in their ship would be the highlight of the local’s gossip until the next trade ship came.

The computer trilled when they neared the coordinates Aran had entered. They peered out through the transparisteel as they circled the area and scowled behind their helmet. No smoke coming up from the valley and woods, no craters, no fire. Nothing to indicate anything was wrong.

Aran growled quietly and lowered their ship in the nearest clearing big enough. They had to be sure everything was fine. They dropped down from the cockpit and into the cargo and passenger area to find Chad, Kit and Purse had already gotten up from their seats when Aran had landed.

It felt strange to see all of them decked out in their armor and weapons. They usually got into all sorts of dangers and mischief, but Aran didn’t usually seem them this prepared for trouble. Something about it made their gut twist with unease.

“You never did say how you happen to own a firespray-31,” Kit said as Aran lowered the ramp. Aran inhaled and let the pine scented wind enter through the filters of his helmet. They slowly stepped down the ramp and their hands tightened on the sniper rifle they had taken out of their armory.

It still looked the same.

“It was a gift.”

“You get a lot of gifts,” Purse drawled and Aran shrugged. They scanned their surroundings at the bottom of the ramp before raising their sniper rifle to take a look around. “Does everyone try to bribe you to stay away or is the former owner of this firespray just dead and you ‘inherited’ it?”

Aran stiffened at Purse’s words and lowered the rifle to turn their visor onto Purse.

“People are usually very relieved and grateful when I hunt down monsters terrorizing them,” Aran snarled and shouldered their rifle. They waved a hand for everyone to follow them and started walking. “Come on. The area looks clear.”

Aran stalked through the woods. They could feel the tension coiled in them. Why hadn’t anyone answered? It made no sense. They flinched when Purse jogged up to walk next to Aran. They waited for Purse to say something. To snap at them for being so jumpy and short-tempered. They certainly deserved it.

But Purse didn’t say anything.

He just carried his blaster rifle in his hands and kept his white helmet facing forward. That filled Aran with shame and gratitude in equal measures. The two of them paused to let Chad and Kit catch up and Aran reached out and silently placed a hand in the crook of Purse’s elbow. The small gap in the clone armor allowed Aran to press their warm glove to Purse’s black bodyglove. They kept their head bowed, not daring to look up. They just kept their hand there for a moment in a silent apology and thank you for coming with them. Purse pressed his hand over Aran’s before releasing them when Chad and Kit had caught up.

“So, where are we going?” Chad asked and Aran nodded down the slope towards where a small home was nestled between the trees. It was a small round building with walls of stone and an attached building. The wooden doors of both had been removed and from where they stood, Aran could see the doors lying on the ground off to the side.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Aran began to walk down the slope. They heard their three friends following behind, trying to be as quiet as they could. They had combat experience and training that helped them be quiet. They didn’t know this place like Aran did though. Aran was silent like they had been trained and with the practiced ease of someone familiar with the landscape.

They reached the doors on the ground and Aran stared down at them while Kit crouched down to inspect the wood. Kit ran a hand over the wooden doors and murmured, “What damage I can find seems to be from the wear of weather and time. Nothing to suggest they were forcibly removed.”

“This place gives me the creeps,” Purse muttered with a shiver and took a step closer to Chad. The latter seemed to be carefully watching the area as well. “Where are we even?”

Aran flexed their hands to try and settle their nerves. The quiet was getting to them. It had always been tranquil here, but now… Now this place was eerily quiet.

“Naalol,” Aran answered and pulled a blaster pistol from their holster. They took a step towards the small home, keeping the blaster lowered. “And this used to be my home.”

“What!?”

Aran flinched at their loud exclamations and glanced back at them as they hurried after them. Chad reached out, placing a hand on their shoulder and asked, “You can’t just drop something like that on us and not explain it further! So, you’re from Naalol? How’d you become a Mandalorian then?”

Aran scoffed, shaking their head and drawled, “I’m not from Naalol. Lived here for a time, yes. Wasn’t born here though.”

Purse shook his head at their words.

“You can’t blame us for our reactions,” he complained, stepping forward to stand on Aran’s other side and he nudged them with an elbow. “You never talk about your past and even I can’t dig up anything with my network.”

Aran sneered under their helmet and hissed, “Good. That is at it should be.”

They moved away from Chad and Purse and stepped into the now open doorway of the attached building. A quick look inside revealed an empty coop and stall. The farm animals that had lived here, long gone.

Nothing.

Aran hurried over to the next doorway and saw the inside of an abandoned home. A small kitchen area and a table to sit at. A bed in another corner and a dog bed at the foot end. All with clear signs of disuse for some time. No signs of violence either.

Just…

Nothing.

No sign of anything.

Their heart tightened and stuttered. Their temples throbbed.

How long ago had this happened? Aran had been busy and delayed answering for a time, but it had been well within the time limit they had imposed on themselves. What had happened?

“Aran.”

They flinched at Kit’s voice calling them. They glanced back and met Kit’s knowing eyes. Chad and Purse were nowhere to be seen. Kit stepped closer and waving towards the empty space, said, “They went to do a sweep around the area.”

Aran nodded, grip tightening on their blaster. They hadn’t even noticed. They were slipping. They needed to get themselves back under control.

“You know I don’t usually probe,” Kit continued and Aran inclined their head slowly at his words. The Nautolan jedi frowned in open concern as he gestured towards them. “In the last few days I could suddenly sense you. Your mind and will are usually like beskar and it concerns me that I can feel these overwhelming flashes from you.”

Aran stiffened at his words. They drew themself up to their full height while Kit raised a hand as if to calm them.

“Why is this place so important, Aran?” Kit asked in a soft tone. So gentle Aran felt a quiver go through their body. “Who were you trying to contact?”

It was so tempting. To just tell Kit everything. To unburden the weight on their shoulders. Maybe then the headache would go away.

Aran turned to look back into the single room of one of the places they had called home. They stepped inside and ran a hand along the kitchen counter. Their gloved fingers came back dusty and they murmured, “We spent so many years on my ship. He started to slow down and he wanted to set up somewhere quiet. I helped him the first two years before I left to keep hunting.”

They opened one of the cabinets to reveal a long range commradio. It was dark and from the look of it, it looked like it had been simply turned off. Here was the reason none of their messages had gotten through.

That wasn’t what was most interesting thing in the cabinet though.

“This was never about where I was trying to send a message, but who,” Aran explained as they reached up. They pulled the pale green cane from the top of the radio and holstered their blaster. They twisted the top with both hands and the sharp ends shot out with an electric crackle to form a spear.

Kit stepped closer with wide eyes and breathed, “A matching set?”

Aran nodded, twisting the cane again and the spear retracted back into its unassuming form. They tightened their grip on the cane, fighting to keep their voice under control. To keep themself under control. They bowed their head, clinging to the cane.

“This belongs to my ba’buir,” Aran said and cursed the slight tremble in their voice. Kit took a small step closer, but stopped when Aran flinched back. They’d revealed too much, but they couldn’t stop the whisper that followed.

“My grandfather.”

[cainluvr69]

Fantasia of the Bookstore Following Footsteps into the Future Chapter 5

Previous Chapter

Murr: Guuuuys! Over here, over here! I'm pretty sure this is the place where those old bags were kicking up a fuss 'cause they saw a weird bird!

Chloe: Uwah… It's super creepy and gloomy here.

Rustica: Fufu. It's so exciting not knowing what might jump out at you, isn't it? Do you think the books are excited as well? I'd love to ask them when we meet.

Shylock: We'll just have to find them so you can do just that, then. The first step, of course, is actually making sure if one might be here. I'll check for their presence with my magic. <Invibelle>

Chloe: Ah, Shylock's smoke is floating over to those bushes…

Murr: There's one of the flying books! It came out 'cause of the smoke! I'll go catch it!

Chloe: Woah, Murr's so fast! He caught up to it in the blink of an eye! …Wait, huh? Hey, Muuuurr! Why are you just hovering next to it and not catching iiiit?

Murr: Cause I'm gonna have a race with iiiit! Do you wanna race with us, Chloe? <Eanul Lambru>!

Chloe: What do you mean, with you… Wah!

Rustica: Oh my, now Chloe's flying in the sky as well. How delightful it must be for the two of them and that book, running through the sky without a care in the world. Do you think they would like an accompaniment?

Shylock: Yes, that sounds lovely. Please play something upbeat. We're doing very important work, so let us highlight how important it is as well to delight in times that are delightful to their full extent.

Rustica: Then I shall perform a most spirited piece.

Murr: That's Rustica's music! Makes me wanna spin and dance! C'mon, Mr. Flying Book, dance a dance with me! Tell me, are you hiding the mysteries of the world on the other side of your cover? Or maybe unforgivable secrets?

Chloe: Murr! Remember, being too rough with the books is a no-no…! Wah. It managed to avoid Murr, and now it's coming this way! I've got be careful… There!

Chloe: …! Yes, I got it!

Murr: Nice catch, Chloe!

Chloe: Thank you! Ehehe… Let's keep on just like this and catch as many as we can!

✦✧☾✧✦

Central Citizen: A book-like bird? I saw one in this market earlier… Yes, it was just over there.

Central Citizen: I saw one over on that bridge that leads to the castle. There were a whole bunch of them that way, actually…

Akira: Thank you very much for telling us about them. You've helped us out a lot.

Riquet: We're getting so many more witnesses than I thought we would.

Cain: Yeah. It's great that we won't have to go too far, either.

Akira: What shall we do? Should we split into another two groups here?

Arthur: That seems like it would be easiest. Lord Oz, how do you think we should split up?

Oz: …That will be unnecessary. I will finish things here and now.

Cain: Okay, hold on. It's true that you could round them all up in half a second, but we don't know exactly where they flew off to after they were sighted. It'd be a better idea to split our forces here. Even you can't be in two places at once. Riquet, Master Sage, and I will take the bridge. Oz and Arthur, you can take the marketplace. Sound good?

Arthur: Yes, I've got no objections.

Riquet & Akira: Of course!

Cain: Then that settles that. And Oz? I'm leaving my master in your hands.

Oz: …I am aware.

Arthur: We shouldn't be going too far outside the capital marketplace, so you don't need to worry! But Cain, Riquet, please look after the Sage.

Riquet: Of course, you can leave it to us!

Arthur: Now then, let us be off to return Hugo's precious books to where they belong!

Cain & Riquet & Akira: Yeah!

✦✧☾✧✦

After we parted with Arthur and Oz, Cain, Riquet, and I walked to the bridge we'd heard about.

Akira: Ah, there they are! There's a whole flock of them, just like we heard.

Riquet: But if we flew over on our brooms and caused a tornado, the castle gatekeepers would likely get suspicious of what we're doing…

Akira: For sure. The young-looking one with black hair is already staring at us…

Cain: A young gatekeeper with dark hair… Hey, does he have a braid?

Riquet: Yes! His hairstyle looks a lot like yours, in fact. Do you know him?

Cain: Yep. Pretty sure that's the guy I met on this bridge a while back who told me how things are going with the knights these days. Let me go see if I can negotiate.

✦✧☾✧✦

To say the black-haired gatekeeper was excited to get to shake Cain's hand would've been an understatement. He was acting like getting to shake the hero Cain's hand again was a blessing from the Goddess. And that was how Cain and Riquet got permission to use magic on the bridge.

Riquet: Now then. Let's round them all up before before they can do anywhere else!

Akira: The gatekeeper's keeping an eye out, but just in case anyone starts coming this way, I'll wave my hand to warn you!

Cain: Lots of thanks to both of you. Let's go, Riquet!

The two of them took to their brooms and lifted into the sky. They charged at the flock of books, net made from magic held between them.

Akira: (If this works how Riquet thinks it should, then we can get them all in one fell swoop…!)

But…

Riquet: Wahh…! They all started flying in the other direction!

Cain: These books are smarter than I thought!

There were so many of them fluttering around, it was almost impossible to catch any of them.

Riquet: Ah. They ran away again…! And we almost had them that time, too!

Cain: We're getting nowhere like this. Riquet, here's the new plan. Riquet, when the books all gather together again, I need you to kick up some wind. Once they're all caught up in the wind, that's when I'll catch them.

Riquet: Understood.

Riquet: <Sunrotea Edif>!

A heavy wind whirled out from Riquet's lantern, catching the books in the gust and blowing them in the same direction. Once enough of them were in the right spot, they started flying away, towards Cain.

Cain: You got this, Riquet! Now!

Riquet: Yay! We caught them!

Akira: You did great, you two!

Cain: Yeah! It's all thanks to Riquet's amazing work. Akira, can you hold onto the books for us? Since we've got a whole bunch, I'll shrink them with magic so you can tuck them in your bag. It'd be a huge pain if they started flying around again.

Akira: That's true…! I'll make sure they're safe and secure in my bag. (I'm glad we were able to catch them all without hurting any of them. But if this is how things are going, it'll be hard on the two of them to catch them all…)

Riquet: Ehehe. Don't you think I cast that spell well?

Cain: Yeah, it was great! We can definitely catch all of the books around the bridge like this.

Akira: …… (It'll be hard on them, but… If these two can keep having fun while doing it, I think they'll manage just fine.)

✦✧☾✧✦

Arthur: <Pernoctant Nixzo>! …There we go! Lord Oz, I've caught our very first book.

Oz: Yes. I saw.

Arthur: However, I can still feel the presence of several others. It seems they've spread all throughout the marketplace.

Oz: …You have gotten better at sensing magic, Arthur. I recall how when you couldn't sense my presence in the castle, you would get lost and start crying until I found you…

Arthur: Th--that only happened when I was very little. The fact that I can sense such trace amounts of magic today is all thanks to your guidance, Lord Oz. That's why I'd like to use today to show you the fruits of my training. I believe that Cain and Riquet undertook the task that awaits them at the bridge with much the same feeling in mind.

Oz: …Is that so. You are all free to do as you wish. At the moment, the books in the marketplace are single-mindedly searching for their owners. If you can catch their notice all at once… You shall be able to capture them all with their attention so strongly taken. Use a spell that would make the Western wizards proud.

Next Chapter