#it's been a while since I volunteered but I kept collecting the containers for them

[gabrielisdead]

pros of today: I delivered 40+ containers to food not bombs, helped with cooking and carrying stuff around, made a great conversations with colleagues, ate hot soup

cons: broke my headphones in half, bled and froze while making said soup

[asaka-lucy-hl]

【Last Defense Academy School Council】Online Student Council Meeting #5 Transcript

This article summarizes the discussion held during the fifth and final online student council meeting, conducted on May 27, 2025. The following speakers participated, and this record was compiled with the help of volunteers. ------------------------------------------------

Participants:

From Famitsu: Sekai Sandai Miyokawa Sanba Matsuwaki (voice only due to participant limit)

From Too Kyo Games: Kazutaka Kodaka Kotaro Uchikoshi

From ANIPLEX: Producer Shuntaro Inou

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Q. What is the Last Defense Academy School Council? A. It is a group formed as part of the ambassador program for The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy, consisting of members chosen to help spread information about the title. The online student council meetings were one of the perks of participation. These were livestreamed via Discord and only viewable by council members.

⚠️Important Notes:

This article contains spoilers. It is recommended that you read it only after completing at least the first 100 days of the game.

Much of the transcription relies on volunteer notes and memory, so phrasing and order may not be exact. Some parts are heavily summarized. Please understand this as a general outline of the topics covered.

If you’re okay with that, please proceed below! ↓

The final online School Council session was held as a “graduation ceremony” for the members. While there are some spoilers in this content, there was a clear notice at the beginning that direct spoilers about the ending would be avoided.

------------------------------------------------

On how they felt after the game’s release

Miyokawa: How has the response been since The Hundred Line launched?

Kodaka: I’ve been constantly checking reactions on social media—so much so that I feel kind of burnt out from SNS. I’m active not just on X but also on Weibo for our Chinese audience.

Uchikoshi: Thanks to the School Council members, it feels like a big commercial success. I’m really grateful to everyone who supported us.

Kodaka: The Hundred Line is like a child we’ve brought into the world. Since it’s our own original IP, I’d really like to continue raising it and developing it further as a game. It’s something I want to cherish.

Inou: We plan to keep updating the game and also expand on merchandise. Right now, I’m promoting it internally, starting with colleagues in other departments. Sales have been so good that we’ve had some items go out of stock. I was just talking to the merch person today, and they said ‘Aotsuki and Omokage are really trending.’ For some reason, those two are especially popular.

(When this comment about Aotsuki and Omokage’s merch being popular came up, the council members playfully joked in the chat: I wonder why~~)

---

Miyokawa: We collected advance survey responses from the student council for today, and the feedback we received was… very passionate and long! (laughs)

We also received many questions, so we’d like to go through them as we talk.

On why the first 100 days were made linear

Miyokawa: The fact that the first 100 days were entirely linear and only branched afterward was kept a secret until release. Even the switch to the title The Hundred Line 2 was a complete surprise.

Kodaka: I wanted players to form a deep emotional connection with the characters before the branching began. I wanted players to make decisions together with Takumi after forming that attachment. That’s why it was necessary to go through the same part at least twice. After that, it splits into completely different parallel worlds—like Spider-Verse.

I deliberately made it unclear where the branching occurs, to give the impression that there may be branching that is not based on choices. For example, you might wonder, "Does it branch depending on the commander execution events?"

This was a special surprise reserved for players who started playing right after the game was released.

Uchikoshi: Actually, there was a plan to sell them separately as 1 and 2. We also considered a style like Marvel's The Avengers, where sequels are released one after another. But Kodaka opposed that, and we released them together. He said, ‘It’s crazier to bundle Part 1 and 2 from the start.’

Miyokawa: Wow, so The Hundred Line was actually a bundled 1–2 pack!

Survey results on the first ending players reached

Miyokawa: We conducted a survey asking which ending people reached first. Let’s take a look at the results.

L*** D****** A****** 2** Scenario: 001 (1 person)

E** Route: 007 (1 person)

C***** Route: 023 (1 person)

C*** o* T***** Route: 041 (3 people)

V******** Route: 043 (1 person)

C*****-o*-A** Route: 045 (2 people) / 047 (1 person)

R****** Route: 062 (1 person) / 065 (1 person)

S****** Route: 072 (2 people) / 074 (1 person)

Kodaka: Truth Uncovered Route is… oh, I said it. Well, we already mentioned beforehand that the Truth Uncovered Route exists, so it’s fine. Anyway, those who are familiar with branching in games like this may have been able to reach the end.

(Regarding the fact that many people went to the C*** o* T***** Route first) Well, when choosing among three options, it seems that quite a few people thought it would be cruel to choose the remaining two. As the writer, I tried to give hints that “this is the route to uncovering the truth,” though.

On the game’s volume

Miyokawa: We received a comment saying, ‘My entire Golden Week disappeared because of this game.’ (Golden Week is a series of holidays in Japan from late April to early May.)

Kodaka: ...Yeah, no way it could be finished during Golden Week. We never designed it to be that short. I made it with the idea that players would spend half a year playing it.

On branching paths

Kodaka: Speaking of branching... the Comedy Route—oh, I said it again. Anyway, I think that particular branch should have been a bit easier to understand.

Uchikoshi: I wish you had told me that earlier...

Kodaka: Um, what was it, like a high kick or a low kick... and one of them leads to a pretty serious route. I think we should’ve made the options leading to the Comedy Route more over-the-top and silly.

Uchikoshi: I wish I’d heard that sooner... It would’ve been easy to tweak. I made that scene a major turning point because I wanted it to be memorable. That's why I split the route there into two completely different ones.

Sanba: We received a question from the student council: ‘Did anything stand out or surprise you while observing user reactions on social media or Let’s Plays?’

Kodaka: What surprised me was how few people backed out midway. I watched all 100 endings myself, but when I got to the kiss-or-not choice with Shizuhara, I immediately turned back. I thought, ‘Yeah, I’m not really in the mood for this right now.’

Inou: I hear that once you turn back once, you lose the resistance to turn back.

Kodaka: The branching scenario was originally given to Uchikoshi and the team to write, based on the scenario for the truth-unraveling arc. The “truth-uncovering” part is the core scenario, if you think of it as a continuation of the first 100 days. I try not to mention this too much, but there are actually quite a few self-parody elements. I also included homages to past works. For example, the way it starts is similar to Danganronpa, but there are also parts that are quoted from Akudama Drive. I thought that structuring it like a “compilation” of my own works would allow me to fully realize the scenario. In that sense, it's a “culmination” of my work. As for when to play this route, I recommend clearing it during the first half of the game and then exploring other routes from there.

Uchikoshi: I read the Truth Uncovered route first, and I found the plot interesting from the start. It's a little different from the product version, isn't it? Actually, during development, there was a discussion about making it easier to find the Truth Uncovered route, but Kodaka's intention was “no, that's not it.” He said that all endings should be treated equally, and that's how it ended up.

Kodaka: In any case, I hope people enjoy the labyrinthine scenario.

Development Struggles

Sanba: We’ve received a question: ‘The development period for this game seems to have been quite long—how did you manage to stay motivated?’

Uchikoshi: Honestly, it wasn’t even about motivation anymore! I was just thinking things like, ‘I wish aliens will invade in the middle of the night and put an end to all this.’

Kodaka: Or like, ‘Just let the world end already!’ (laughs)

Uchikoshi: If I had to say something, it was more like... I didn’t want people to get mad at me. I didn’t want to put out something half-baked and get scolded for it.

Inou: It was really driven by fear. Normally, when you’re running out of time, you cut corners somewhere. But with this game, there was nothing we could cut. (And also, given the title,) we couldn’t reduce it to fewer than 100 routes. From ANIPLEX’s side, we were constantly trying to figure out how we could help them realize everything they wanted to do. But budget and scheduling constraints... that part was always a struggle.

Inou (continued): Actually, there was a period when we weren’t getting anything from Kodaka-san or Uchikoshi-san, so I thought, ‘Maybe we just need to make a hard decision,’ and we went ahead and locked in the voice recording schedule first. Like, ‘If you don’t make it by this date, we won’t be able to record.’ And then, from the end of the year into the new year, Uchikoshi-san came down with tendonitis. (laughs) Which I only found out about afterward.

Uchikoshi: We had already decided on a 100-day story. There are some parts where we skip a few days in some routes, but that was really a last-ditch effort. If we did that without giving a reason, Kodaka would get angry! He said we had to give a reason even if we were skipping days. I think we struggled quite a bit with the idea that we couldn't make things just because of development constraints.

Kodaka: If we made it, like, 50 days, it would feel surprisingly short. It’d be like, ‘Oh, that’s it?’ 80 days feels okay, but... yeah.

On the Challenge of "Madness"

Kodaka: Since this was a brand-new IP, I felt we had to create something completely one-of-a-kind. That’s why I chose to go with this massive volume of content—I knew there was no turning back after that.

Uchikoshi: Well, I mean, this guy (Kodaka) was born mad to begin with. But that’s actually what drew me to him. I decided I wanted to start a company with him after we were talking at an izakaya and the stuff he was saying was just completely insane. He was going on about unethical things and stuff. I was like, ‘This guy is basically Junko Enoshima in real life.’ I think the core that holds Tookyo Games together is that sense of madness. It’s something we all have, in a way.

Kodaka: That said, after making a game this crazy, I’m kind of feeling like I want to release something more normal. Like, suddenly just drop a traditional table mahjong game or something.

Questions From the developers to the Student Council

Miyokawa: Since we have this opportunity, do any of the developers have questions for the student council?

Uchikoshi: How many people here have actually seen all 100 endings?

Kodaka: Didn’t someone say earlier that it was like three people?

(Someone from the student council adds that it’s probably four.)

Uchikoshi: I wonder how long it took those people... Oh, 210 hours?

Inou: That’s about how long it takes to earn a fairly tough professional certification! (laughs)

Kodaka: I wonder whether most people here chose Hundred Line Mode or Safety Mode? I’ve seen Safety Mode come up occasionally in playthroughs… Ah, seems like most people went with Hundred Line Mode. I wonder if there are people who actually want an even harder mode?

(Multiple comments appear saying things like I wish it were even harder.)

Kodaka: Ah, adding something like that to the VR Machine sounds doable.

Miyokawa: Like a shogi puzzle mode?

Inou: Might be fun to release an impossible-difficulty challenge as DLC or something.

On the topic of DLCs

Miyokawa: We’re getting comments like ‘Please release DLCs! I’m willing to pay for it!’

Kodaka: DLCs... How much are you willing to pay?

Maybe we should just treat it like an auction and let people name their price. Like a DLC limited to five people. (laughs)

Since the worldbuilding is all over the place and it’s not like Detroit: Become Human, I think it’d actually be pretty easy to add a completely different storyline.

With a DLC, we could even turn it into a full-on death game, like Danganronpa, where people start dying one by one—it’s totally doable.

Or, for example, we could flash back to peaceful days in the Tokyo Residential Complex depending on which route you take. There’s really no limit. That’s one of the features of this game.

It’s like an illegal building that just keeps getting additions built onto it—I kind of like the idea of just endlessly piling stuff on.

It’s like cramming in a bunch of elements and raising your own kid. (laughs)

In response to a comment: “Is it true there will be a prequel for every character?”

Kodaka: We’ve started writing the prequels, but... the preparation is... (tough).

Questions from the Student Council members to the developers

Miyokawa: Do the Student Council members have any questions?

Kodaka: A question that’s getting a lot of responses is ‘Which character do the cast members like best?’ Hmm... Uchikoshi-san, what about you?

Uchikoshi: Hmm... I like them all to be honest, but since I got more attached to the parts I wrote myself, I’d have to say Shizuhara. She’s the one I spent the most time with.

Kodaka: What about you all out there? Who’s your favorite character?

(Various comments roll in)

Inou: Doesn’t seem like there are many people who like Ginzaki.

(Comments saying I like Ginzaki! appear)

Inou: Maybe not many fans of Yakushizhi either?

(Some comments like “I love all of them appear)

Kodaka: Well, honestly, it makes us happiest when people say they love all the characters. It's nice to have everyone together. Rather than just one person.

On whether there are plans for a Switch 2 edition

Kodaka: Hmm... (wry smile). It’s more like, ‘The act of making it is the point.’ (There were no further details on this.)

In addition, there was a response that the request to add a feature to hide the UI to make event CG easier to view is currently under consideration.

Kodaka: Collaboration cafés are getting a lot of buzz, too.

Inou: Oh yeah, collaboration cafés are a great idea. Like a 100-day-long collab café or something. (laughs)

Kodaka: It seems like a lot of people want to eat the Tsukumo twins' dishes.

Uchikoshi: Might actually taste surprisingly good?

Kodaka: Nah... I think it’d be straight-up bad.

Final messages

Miyokawa: If you have any final messages for the Student Council members, please share them.

Uchikoshi: Before the game was released, when nobody really knew whether it would be any good, you all chose to believe in us and support us. I’m incredibly grateful for that.

Earlier, someone commented that they were proud to be part of the Student Council. That’s something I take pride in, too.

Inou: From our perspective, you Student Council members had such high energy and enthusiasm that we genuinely viewed your opinions as ‘reliable.’

Honestly, I think your overall... let’s say netiquette... was way better than expected. (laughs)

Your spoiler precautions were amazing. Even after the demo dropped, everyone was really considerate. And the analysis—some of you really went deep! (laughs)

It was such a relaxed, warm community the whole time. I’m really glad there wasn’t anyone we had to boot out.

Kodaka: Well, I suppose this marks your graduation for now, but I think you’ve learned how to blend in with others.

So from here on, I want you all to go out into the world as terrorists—sneak into communities, and secretly promote The Hundred Line (*gestures as if handing something out).

Miyokawa: Terrorists? (laughs) Should we come up with a password or something?

Kodaka: Hmm... How about the remnants... you know, the remnants of Handora?

I want you to go out into the world as the remnants of Handora. And then, if you bump into someone somewhere and go, ‘Huh!? You too!?’—

At the next autograph session or whatever, if you come up to me and say, ‘I’m one of the Handora remnants,’ I’ll give you something extra. (laughs)

Like, I’ll slip you a thousand yen or something. (makes sneaky hand gesture)

---

End of the transcript! Special thanks to the following Student Council members for their help in creating this article:

ちゃちゃ_イルさん

YellowTu_lipさん

ヨレさん

Thank you so much for your support!

[hardcasey]

Party Hardy

Won’t Fade into the Background - Part 7

Pairing: Boost x Reader

Summary: The Wolfpack attends their first house party and an accident brings you closer to one of them.

Word Count: 3.2k

Ratings/Warnings: T, warnings for alcohol consumption and smoochin'

A/N: This is a follow up of sorts to the last chapter with Sinker. It was inspired by the story of how Alan Alda met his wife, which is very funny and cute. I thought the premise fit our resident stinky boy, Boost, which is how I ended up with whatever this is. Enjoy~

They could feel the pulse of the bass two floors below their destination. The Wolfpack - sans their leader, who was too busy ‘writing reports’ (aka being a party pooper) - climbed up the narrow stairway to reach the party Sinker’s girlfriend and her roommates were throwing in their apartment.

They all could tell what door it was without Sinker even telling them the room number, the lights flashing under the door were a dead giveaway. There was a couple outside the door, a human woman leaning up against the wall and chatting up a pretty green-skinned twi’lek. They didn’t spare a second glance at the passing troopers, save for a quick nod that Sinker returned.

He was about to knock when Comet piped up, “Uh, are you sure this is a good idea? We could just head back to the barracks, it’s not too late.”

“What, are you scared?” Boost teased, nudging his brother with his shoulder.

Comet pushed Boost away before replying, “I’m not scared, I’m just… We’ve never been to a civvie house party before. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Just think of it like going to 79’s, only with less rules,” Sinker reassured him before knocking on the door. It swung open immediately, one of the people near the door opening it and inviting them in.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Comet muttered under his breath as he followed his brothers through the doorway.

The party was packed, humans and non-humans alike crammed into every available space, chatting and drinking and dancing to the loud music that blared through a set of speakers. The air was slightly hazy from the group of people tucked in a corner and passing around a joint. The three troopers stood in the doorway for a moment, stupefied as they took in their surroundings.

“Alright, I just messaged my girlfriend to let her know we’re here. She said to meet her at the bar,” Sinker informed them.

“Wherever that is,” Boost sighed, standing on his tiptoes to try and see over the sea of people.

Comet decided on a different tactic, instead flagging down a nearby Mirialan who had a drink in their hands. “Hey, do you know where the bar is?” He asked, having to shout to be heard over the music.

The Mirialan pointed towards the back of the room and gave Comet a cheeky wink, the rest of their friend group giggling behind them. Comet blushed and was about to respond with something flirty when Boost grabbed him by the collar and started tugging him towards the bar.

It took a while as the clones squeezed through the crowds of people, but eventually they made it to the bar, which was really just a fold out table stacked with booze. Sinker’s girlfriend was nowhere to be found, so the group decided to grab a drink while they waited.

~~~

You stood behind the makeshift bar, bouncing in place to the beat of the music as you mixed up a drink in the cocktail shaker. One of your roommates had shoved a pair of huge novelty light up sunglasses onto your face at some point in the night and you had a bunch of plastic bead necklaces around your neck, your collection growing as more and more people offered you them.

You had volunteered to work the bar tonight, hoping to show off the skills you’d picked up after taking a mixology class you’d found a coupon for. You thought you’d be tired of making drinks by now, but it was surprisingly fun. You got to chat with everyone as they waited and you’d even gotten a few tips. There was also the added benefit of having access to all the booze you could want, and even though you knew you weren’t really supposed to get drunk off your own supply, who could blame you for taking a few shots here or there?

Maybe you were drunker than you realized, though, since you swore you were seeing double all of a sudden. Wait, make that triple. A group of three identical looking men moseyed up to your table, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for how long it took you to not only realize they were in fact three separate people and not one guy, but also that you knew one of them.

“Hey, Sinker! How’s it going?” You greeted the white-haired clone loudly, straining to be heard over the thumping bass.

Sinker greeted you and introduced you to his fellow clones, his ‘brothers’ as he liked to call them. The two of you had interacted only a handful of times - usually he was too busy macking on your roommate in her room - but he’d always been polite and kind.

“This is Boost,” Sinker pointed his thumb towards the clone sporting a set of wild-looking double mohawks, “and this is Comet,” he pointed to the clone with a shooting-star tattoo on his temple.

You waved at them with both of your hands. “Well, Comet, Boost, and Sinker, can I get you anything to drink?” You motioned to the chalkboard listing all the drink specials you were offering, each one of them complete with a little drawing to go with it. It had taken you much longer than you cared to admit to make it, but it had been worth it in the end.

The boys crowded around to get a better look at the drinks listed. “Naboo Sunset… Jedi Mind Trick… Outer Rim… These are some fancy drinks, I’ve never heard of ‘em before.” Boost commented as he read the names aloud.

“Well what liquor do you prefer? The Naboo Sunset and Outer Rim are tequila based and the Jedi Mind Trick has vodka.” You’d had this same conversation several times tonight, enough you could recite what was in each drink without thinking.

“Which one is the prettiest one?” Boost asked after thinking about it for a second. He wasn’t choosy with his liquor, couldn’t afford to be when all he had access to was whatever someone put in front of him at 79s.

Comet raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Really?”

“C’mon. You’ve seen some of those crazy drinks people order at 79s! The ones with all the colors. This could be our only chance to try one for free.” His head shot up all of a sudden as if he just remembered something, “Wait, these are free, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. “Yup, totally free. Though I do take tips in the form of credits or in particularly cool bead necklaces.”

“Sweet!” Boost pumped his fist in excitement, making Comet roll his eyes, though he couldn’t contain the smile on his lips.

“If you want something colorful you should try the Naboo Sunset. It has a bunch of different colored liquors layered on top of one another. Very pretty,” You suggested.

“Okay, I’ll have that one,” Boost agreed. “What are you getting, Com?”

“I’m torn between a Jedi Mind Trick or an Outer Rim. What about you, Sinker?”

Sinker considered for a second. “You get the Jedi Mind Trick and I’ll get the Outer Rim and we can share them.”

“Okay, one Naboo Sunset, one Jedi Mind Trick, and one Outer Rim coming right up.” You told them as you started grabbing bottles.

Just as you began mixing Boost’s drink, you saw a flash of red in your peripheral vision as your roommate ran past and all but tackled Sinker. Had he not been a soldier you were pretty sure he’d be flat on his back right now, but he was strong enough to catch her with one arm as she launched herself at him.

“Hey, babe,” he said with a lopsided grin as he spun her around, “I brought the ice you asked for.”

“My savior!” She said as he set her back on her feet, pecking him on the lips before taking the ice from him and quickly handing it over to you to deal with so she could go back to hugging her boyfriend.

You rolled your eyes at them as you cut open the bag and dumped the ice into the almost empty ice bucket. When you turned back to your task, you caught Boost and Comet’s eye and the three of you exchanged a look.

“I’m really gonna need that drink if we have to deal with this all night,” Boost quipped, making the three of you burst out into laughter.

“I’m on it, darling,” you reassured him as you hurried to make their drinks.

The boys kept you company as you worked, sharing silly stories that had you nearly crying with laughter. You had the three drinks ready in record time, though by the time you finished it didn’t seem like SInker would be able to pry himself away from his girlfriend long enough to take a sip.

“Well, I guess you get both drinks then,” you told Comet as you handed him his and Sinker’s drink.

“Be careful mixing alcohol, vod,” Boost warned before taking a long sip from his brightly colored drink, layered with shades of pink, orange, and yellow. His eyes had lit up like a toddler being handed a cookie when you gave him his glass, and by the way he was sucking it down he was enjoying it immensely.

“Or… you could go and bring one over to that Mirialan over there.” You pointed with your chin to motion towards the Mirialan they had met when they got here. “They’ve been making eyes at you this whole time. Plus, I know they really like the Jedi Mind Trick,” you offered with an eyebrow wiggle.

The two clones both turned to look at where you were pointing, and the Mirialan gave Comet a little wave. Comet waffled around for a bit until Boost elbowed him in the side and told him to go live a little.

“You’ll be alright without me?” Comet asked.

“Yup, I’ll be hanging out with our new friend here. Now go get ‘em, tiger.” With that, Boost shoved his brother towards the Mirialan. Once the two of you were alone, he turned to you, “Hope you don’t mind me keeping you company. The only other people I know here just ditched me!”

You laughed at his choice of words. “Of course not. If you want, I can teach you how to mix drinks.” He’d had a lot of questions for you as you prepared the drinks, wanting to know what every item did or what every step was for, so you thought he might find it fun. Plus, you could use a buddy at the bar now that things were slowing down somewhat. It seemed like everyone who wanted a drink had already gotten one and you only had to deal with those coming back for seconds.

“Sure! That sounds fun,” he said, rushing over to join you on your side of the table.

~~~

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed, but you and Boost made a countless number of drinks, some for the partygoers and some for yourselves. At some point in the night the two of you had sunk to the floor behind the drink table, both tired of making drinks and too busy talking with each other.

“What is this party even for anyway?” Boost asked between sips of the water you had forced him to drink. You’d given him your big light up sunglasses and the rim of the glass clanked against them as he brought it up to his face, knocking the glasses askew and making Boost frown dramatically.

You adjusted them for him before answering. “Uhh, I think it’s a birthday party.” He gave you a look as if to say how could you not know so you added, “It’s for a friend of a friend and I’m four Naboo Sunsets in, don’t give me that look.”

Boost nudged you with his shoulder as he laughed, and you were suddenly aware of just how close the two of you were, snuggled up together with your head on his shoulder. When had that happened? Not that you were complaining. All of the clones were attractive, but something about Boost was especially so. He was unapologetically himself, loud in both personality and looks. You’d asked him about the mohawks at some point and he’d told you they started off as a dare but he’d gotten attached. His brothers apparently liked to tease him about his crazy hairstyle but he wore it with pride. He said his hair made him stand out, which you could guess was important when you shared a face with millions of others.

The area behind the bar was a flurry of activity as your other roommates scrambled around grabbing snacks to pass out to everyone. One of them grabbed a cake from the fridge and started putting candles in it.

You got Boost’s attention and pointed it out to him. “See, I told you it was someone’s birthday.”

Not ten seconds after you said it, your roommate grabbed it off the counter and was ready to bring it out to whoever it was for when someone else bumped into them from behind, sending the cake flying. Everyone in the vicinity watched in horror as it sailed through the air before landing upside down on the floor with a splat. There was a chorus of shouts as everyone realized what had happened, the person who caused the accident apologizing profusely while others lamented the loss of the cake.

Once everyone got over their initial reactions, things settled down and your roommate rushed out to explain what had happened to the cake’s intended recipient. Everyone else in the room started debating what to do with the ruined cake.

“Are you really just gonna throw it out?” You asked sadly. You’d been eyeing that cake all morning and couldn’t wait to try a piece.

“Well yeah, it fell on the floor,” someone else responded.

“But there’s still a bunch of good cake left!” Not all of it was touching the floor, just the top portion. From your side you could hear Boost agree with you.

“If you want to eat it, be my guest.”

You thought about it for a second and looked over to Boost. “Wanna eat some floor cake?” He asked, handing you a fork.

You grabbed the fork and smiled at him, the two of you shuffling over to where the cake had fallen before digging in, careful to only eat parts that were safely away from the floor, and since it was a triple decker cake, there was a lot to choose from. You grabbed a big piece, making sure the cake to frosting ratio was acceptable, and held it out to Boost.

He gobbled it down in one bite. “Mmm, gourmet,” he joked, flashing you a huge smile before offering you a bite. “For you, my dear.”

You giggled in between bites of cake. “The dirt really adds a certain something.”

The two of you carried on like that for a while, ignoring the stares sent your way. You wished you could have blamed your suspect judgement on the alcohol, but you knew you would have probably done this when you were sober too, so you had no excuse. But you were happy you had someone by your side who was just as weird as you.

~~~

Sinker nudged his girlfriend. “Hey, I should check in with the guys. Just to make sure they are doing okay.” He hadn’t checked in with them in a while and was feeling a little guilty for abandoning them for so long.

“I think I saw Comet making out with someone a few minutes ago.” His girlfriend offered with a yawn. It was getting late and the party was starting to wind down. It was far less crowded now and there were people passed out on the couches nearby.

Sinker looked around and sure enough he found his brother in a corner, wrapped around the Mirialan they’d encountered earlier. Good for him, he thought, happy Comet had been able to come out of his shell after being so nervous about going to the party. He hated having to be the one to break them up, but it was getting time to head back. Wolffe had kindly reminded them they had an early morning training drill the next day as they were leaving for the party, his way of telling them to be home at a reasonable hour.

Once he had collected Comet, he set off to find Boost, knowing that out of the both of them Boost was way more likely to have gotten into trouble. After asking around a bit, they were pointed in the direction of the kitchen. Sinker ducked his head in the doorway only to find what felt like the worst case scenario, his brother surrounded by a huge mess. It took a second for his brain to process the fact that you and Boost were feeding each other bites of cake from the floor.

“Please tell me you didn’t cause this,” Sinker sighed.

“Nah, we’re helping clean up. Didn’t want it all to go to waste.” Boost explained from his position on the floor, his legs sprawled out and tangled with yours. That was an interesting development. He’d met you a few times and thought you were very nice, but he’d never in a million years have put you and Boost together. You seemed too… normal for his brother, though apparently that wasn’t actually true.

Sinker’s girlfriend poked her head in as well. “Awe, cute! Now smile you two, I want a picture,” she said before snapping a quick photo.

“It’s time to go, Boost. We gotta get up early tomorrow.” Sinker told him.

Boost turned to you. “I should help you clean up first. Like actually clean up.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble with your C.O. Don’t worry about it,” you assured him.

“Okay,” He hesitated for a moment before starting to get to his feet.

“Wait!” You called after him. He turned back towards you and you took the opportunity to snatch the front of his shirt and drag him into a kiss. It started off tense, with you catching him by surprise, but he melted into it, his lips sweet with the taste of frosting. When you broke apart you added, “I had fun tonight. We should do this again sometime.”

“Y-yeah,” Boost agreed, stumbling to his feet. Sinker and Comet were all but dragging him away but he resisted long enough to ask. “Wait, I don’t have your number.”

“I’ll give it to Sinker,” your roommate offered, and that was enough to get him out the door. She closed the door behind them before joining you on the floor. “I’m gonna show that picture at you two’s wedding,” she teased, a shit eating grin on her face. “Y’know, you have me to thank for introducing you. I expect you to name your first child in my honor.”

“Shut it,” you told her, taking a piece of cake and mushing it onto her cheek.

[arctic-comet]

Osblaineweek2021, Day 2: Prose

I love book quotes. Looking at quotes is one of my favorite ways to to inspire myself to write more fic.

Here’s a small collection of book quotes (and recs!) of where I’ve “found” June and Nick.

This post contains spoilers for the following books/series:

- Lover Mine by JR Ward

- The Wrath and The Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

- A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas

Lover Mine by J.R. Ward

Summary:

John Matthew has come a long way since he was found living among humans, his vampire nature unknown to himself and to those around him. After he was taken in by the Brotherhood, no one could guess what his true history was- or his true identity. Indeed, the fallen Brother Darius has returned, but with a different face and a very different destiny. As a vicious personal vendetta takes John into the heart of the war, he will need to call up on both who he is now and who he once was in order to face off against evil incarnate. Xhex, a symphath assassin, has long steeled herself against the attraction between her and John Matthew. Having already lost one lover to madness, she will not allow the male of worth to fall prey to the darkness of her twisted life. When fate intervenes, however, the two discover that love, like destiny, is inevitable between soul mates.

It's basically a paranormal love story between two warriors. He's really young (although he's actually a reincarnation of a very old vampire warrior, but he doesn't know that), and she's like 300 years older than him. In this book, she's been raped and abused by a guy who also used to bully him. She escapes, but he saves her life. She's hungry for revenge and wants to die after achieving that goal, but of course eventually changes her mind. In the end he actually serves her rapist to her on a silver platter so that she can kill him (sound like anyone we know?). He literally holds the guy down while she kills him.

They're my ultimate favorite ship in this series, and IMO their relationship eventually develops into one of the strongest ones. This series is a bit of a hit-or-miss for most people, because the language and the writing style are pretty ridiculous in all seriousness. If you decide to read this, I recommend starting the series from the beginning because John and Xhex meet for the first time several books before this one, LOL.

Here are some of the quotes that make me think of Nick and June:

“Besides, the story of the two of them was written in the language of collision; they were ever crashing into each other and ricocheting away—only to find themselves pulled back into another impact.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“As his ears rang and his heart broke for her, he stayed strong against the gale force she let loose. After all, there was a reason why here and hear were seperated by so little and sounded one like the other. Bearing witness to her, he heard her and was there for her because that was all you could do during a fall apart. But God, it pained him to see how she suffered.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“...the only thing that had tethered her to the earth had been him and it was strange, but she felt welded to him on some core level now. He had seen her at her absolute worst, at her weakest and most insane, and he hadn't looked away. He hadn't judged and he hadn't been burned. It was as if in the heat of her meltdown they had melted together. This was more than emotion. It was a matter of soul.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

The Wrath and the Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

Summary:

One Life to One Dawn. In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad's dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph's reign of terror once and for all. Night after night, Shahrzad beguiles Khalid, weaving stories that enchant, ensuring her survival, though she knows each dawn could be her last. But something she never expected begins to happen: Khalid is nothing like what she'd imagined him to be. This monster is a boy with a tormented heart. Incredibly, Shahrzad finds herself falling in love. How is this possible? It's an unforgivable betrayal. Still, Shahrzad has come to understand all is not as it seems in this palace of marble and stone. She resolves to uncover whatever secrets lurk and, despite her love, be ready to take Khalid's life as retribution for the many lives he's stolen. Can their love survive this world of stories and secrets?

This is a young adult fantasy romance, and basically, Khalid is a lot like Nick. He’s made mistakes that he needs to own, but at the same time he’s forced to commit atrocities he doesn’t want to do. He hates himself and doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of love, and yet he falls in love with Shazi. He's viewed as the villain of the story by everyone aside from Shazi and a few other characters until almost the end of the 2nd book.

“I love you, a thousand times over. And I will never apologize for it.”

―Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“It’s a fitting punishment for a monster. to want something so much—to hold it in your arms — and know beyond a doubt you will never deserve it.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“When I was a boy, my mother would tell me that one of the best things in life is the knowledge that our story isn't over yet. Our story may have come to a close, but your story is still yet to be told.

Make it a story worthy of you”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“In that moment of perfect balance, she understood. This peace? These worries silenced without effort? It was because they were two parts of a whole. He did not belong to her. And she did not belong to him. It was never about belonging to someone. It was about belonging together.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

“A boy who'd thrived in the shadows.

Now he had to live in the light.

To live . . . fiercely.

To fight for every breath.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Summaries:

Book 1

Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price ... Dragged to a magical kingdom for the murder of a faerie, Feyre discovers that her captor, his face obscured by a jewelled mask, is hiding far more than his piercing green eyes would suggest. Feyre's presence at the court is closely guarded, and as she begins to learn why, her feelings for him turn from hostility to passion and the faerie lands become an even more dangerous place. Feyre must fight to break an ancient curse, or she will lose him forever.

Book 2

Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people. Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world cleaved in two. With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.

Fantasy romance with explicit sex scenes, and book 2 is a lot better than book 1. Our main character Feyre falls for a really boring fae guy, but also meets the hottest guy she’s ever known. The first guy of course isn't the real love interest (this is a twist this author loves to do). They all end up as prisoners, and the 2nd guy saves her life when the 1st one is totally useless. He also makes her hate him as he does it because he has to. After getting out, she tries to make her old relationship work, but it doesn’t, and guess who swoops in?

I do see some Nick in Rhysand (in addition to his role in the love triangle). They’re both traumatized and prefer to keep a lot of their feelings to themselves. I also see some of the same selflessness in both of them. Rhysand wants Feyre to choose him because she loves him, but he’s willing to accept that she may not, and doesn’t tell her that they’re pretty much destined to be together (it’s a supernatural thing, and he will suffer a lot if she decides she doesn’t want him).

“Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.”

―Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“It took me a long while to realize that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And had done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Because," he went on, his eyes locked with mine, "I didn't want you to fight alone. Or die alone."

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“He thinks he'll be remembered as the villain in the story. But I forgot to tell him that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key. He was the one who let me out.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

[wtfgaylittlezooid]

I’ve lost to temptation so here it is

My interpretation of magolor lets fucking go

So first section: How this bitch works

So Magolor is from Halcandria, a planet who’s core is essentially magic. There’s so much magic on this single planet that it leaked into the life and even some objects that could contain it. Magolor is no exception. Magic energy is essentially stored in a second heart (tho it’s more of a container than a heart), and runs through the body very similar to blood. It’s created and flows through his body, and allows for things like his eye glow, floating, and obviously powers. When he’s asleep, it regenerates. If there’s already enough magic energy while he’s asleep, it disposes of the old magic mostly by floating in sleep or by more severe means like insomnia aka magical overdose (which I’ve gone over before).

Next, is the glowing eyes!! Why he have that, I’ll tell ya. It makes it easier to detect other halcandrians as well as make it easier to detect light such as fire. Which is very useful when you need to look through ashy clouds and make sure a giant rock isn’t about to slam into you from above. It’s also a way to show the health of a halcandrian. Though the eyes glow yellow, they have a brown color very similar to their fur. If they’re sick or very unhealthy, they lose their glow and it slowly reverts to the brown color.

As a side effect of the master crown though, Magolor’s magic energy got boosted by the crown so he didn’t just die instantly by overwhelming power. It sounds like a good thing on paper, having so much energy to the point where he can fight non stop without getting tired magically, but magic overdose due to him not being able to deplete enough of it fast enough is a bitch. He gets sick a lot easier, bad insomnia, as well as occasionally using magic without realizing. So this clears out how he works and shit!! Now onto...

Before RTDL

So before RTDL Magolor had little social skills or experience with interacting with other people that wasnt lying to them to get them to do stuff. It was just how Halcandria worked. People kept to themselves and if you needed help you’d have to twist the truth in order to convince them. Relationships of any kind are very rare in Halcandria as well.

So when he met Marx, it was weird. He originally planned to let him stay until he got better and told him about why he was found in a Nova’s wreckage, so he could hopefully get Marx to lead him to something else he could use to defeat Landia. It didn’t go as planned. Marx was an unpredictable dude who immeadiatly fell for Magolor (but mags didn’t notice cause he’s never experienced someone else crushing or a crush) and due to that Marx spent a lot of time with Magolor during recovery and grew on him. He also ended up showing Magolor what friendship was, and honestly: magolor liked it. He liked having someone around. It was a nice change, and it was nice to have someone around to help (and rarely give him affection). So, Magolor wanted Marx to rule the universe with him once he killed Landia. He didn’t want Marx to leave. Though things started going downhill when an accident happened one time while exploring and Magolor was distracted, leaving to Marx having to use Nova’s power to make sure Magolor was safe.

And Magolor was fascinated, and god he was excited. He pried Marx for questions about his wings, constantly stared at them when they were out, and started talking about if he and Marx used their combined powers they could finally kill Landia and get what they want. But Marx didn’t want to. His want for power by then left, and he knew the consequences. He was happy just hanging out with Mags, and didn’t want to risk his life fighting a dragon with a crown of infinite power. But Magolor, despite liking the change of company, was used to being a loner and believed he could do it again since he’s halcandrian. He said Marx could leave if he didn’t want to, and that was when Marx started to see just how desperate Magolor was for the Master Crown. It was all too similar to his own desperation with Nova, and all words were useless and failed to change Magolor’s mind. So Marx left, and Magolor continued. He felt a little bad (and lonely) but pushed it down and decided no turning back and opted to modifying the Starcutter more like a weapon and attacking Landia that way, but failing.

Though he had a backup plan, thanks to Marx. Which brings me to..

The Betrayal

So this is RTDL time, before the betrayal. His back up plan was going to the pink hero Marx ranted about and using them to get the crown. After all, if they could defeat someone with the gift of Nova’s power, they could defeat a wyvern with a crown. They landed, and Magolor met everyone, but he couldn’t stop thinking about a certain someone. Chilly, who volunteered to stay with him while the others collected the spheres and parts (tho it was because he was suspicious). Mags didn’t know this, and assumed he was being nice. So the second person who (he thought) was being friendly with him enough to stay with him, and fill that hole Marx accdientally left by leaving him. He couldn’t not get attatched. He became REALLY REALLY clingy, and did as much as he could to keep himself focused as well as make sure they were friends. It backfired, making Chilly agitated most of the time, but it also semi worked later on. Most of his time between the betrayal and his crash landing was spent monitoring everyone’s progress, and trying to get Chilly to like him so he could do what he had to do during the betrayal.

Now during the betrayal! The closer he got to achieving the crown again, the more desperate and ooc he got. By the time he was at Halcandria, there’d be no way to talk him out of it, since he was THIS close. But there was still one thing wrong that he assumed the crown would fix: he couldn’t go back to being alone. He assumed he would adjust, since that’s how it’s been for his whole life. But now, that he’s actually had two people really close to him (and one leave) that showed him affection and didn’t only use him like in Halcandria, he didn’t want to go back to being alone. He couldn’t. But he came too far to turn back, and continued anyway (not like he ever changed his mind, but he did have moments of doubt). He told Chilly to stay in the Starcutter, wanting to keep him safe, which obviously didn’t go well for him when Chilly responded with freezing the ship from the inside to stop Magolor from using it in its attacks.

And of course, when Magolor sees this, he has a moment of “oh shit I can’t let him do this. I can’t lose someone else.” And tries to convince Chilly to join him. He talks about the two of them ruling and even giving Chilly Popstar to rule. He means it. He wants someone with him, somebody that he genuinely loves and treats him like a friend. He assumed that if he didn’t force Chilly into working with him like Marx, he would join in the end. And like any person with common sense, Chilly denies, loyal to Kirby and Popstar. THIS was the moment Magolor became truly desperate, he tries to convince Chilly to join him but he can barely get any words other than “but you were only friend” out while crying (in the middle of battle lol). Kirby and everyone take this chance to attack, while Magolor is just kind of broken. He fucked up again.

And he’ll be alone.

He has one thing left now, and that’s the power to rule the universe.

And he’s desperate to have this one thing go right for him, and he uses the remaining power of the Master Crown... which brings me to the next topic!

The Master Crown

Full section for the master crown let’s go. It gets its dark power from a leader/creator of dark matter (think 0), and is sentient. It only knows to shroud the world in darkness, and will do whatever it takes to get it. It’s powers are held at bay by Landia, who is Halcandria’s guardian and can resist its powers due to being a magic guardian. Magolor however, isn’t a magic guardian, and can’t resist. To him, it’s a shiny piece of jewelry that’ll make him strong so things can finally go his way.

The way it works is by drawing people in, like a venus fly trap. It just amplify people’s interest in it, as well as bring out the more negative traits about them that makes them easier to control. The most common traits is desperation, impulsiveness, frustration, and determination. And once the crown is on their head, it locks on and is irremovable and works like a parasite, basically completely erasing whoever put it on and molding them to the perfect puppet. Magolor essentially just sped up the process completely by using the last of its power in a desperate attempt to get what he wanted.

After the Betrayal

Magolor, after the betrayal, is left just floating around Another Dimension. He’s exhausted, in a lot of pain, and completely magically drained. He couldn’t even float if he tried, and that uses the bare minimum of magic. He’s stuck here for a long time, and at first, he’s extremely frustrated and upset. He spends a lot of time replaying the events in his head (not magolor soul, he has no memories of that aside from snippets that come into his dreams that are partially due to the master crown’s lasting effect) and just getting more and more angry at everything. He was so close to having control over EVERYTHING, and he lost it over himself the second he used the rest of the power. He was infuriated that he manged to let that stupid puffball beat him, along with their friends.

He cries, screams, shouts, but it doesn’t matter. Rage can only last so long, and it’s not much before he’s just exhausted and tired. He’s given up on escaping, knowing he can’t. He cant form a dimensional portal strong enough to pull him out of a dimension. He only has the skill to use it for teleportation. After a few days, he’s accepted what happened, that this is his fate. He hates being alone, floating in space with no silly jester to crack a joke or scratch his head, and no snowman who’s bell jingled with an adorable tune whenever he laughed and even gave him hugs. He ends up getting habits of scratching his head (despite the pain because of master crown injuries) and hugging himself as a way to fill that hole the two left when leaving. He misses them, and starts to regret going after the crown in the first place. He comes up with scenarios in his head to pass the time as he basically waits for himself to rot. He imagines apologizing and having his friends back. He imagines Marx somehow finding him similar to how Magolor found him. He imagines not being alone, and being happy. Not plagued by agonizing exhaustion and self fury. He even comes to miss Kirby and their friend one he actually realizes the kindness they showed him, since he was too focused before to realize.

He spends a few days in the hell dimension before he finds something. He ends up finding an energy sphere that floats past that was lost during the battle. He grabs and clings to it, now having only one thing from before. It doesn’t make the loneliness any better, but it does make things a little less bareable. But of course, energy spheres are a sphere doomer’s favorite snack, and it doesn’t take long before one comes along really wanting it.

Magolor at first, pushes it away desperate to keep this one thing he had before, and the sphere doomer keeps coming back desperately wanting its food. Eventually, Magolor and the sphere doomer form a slight bond since this was when Magolor started slowly regaining magic again and tries attacking it with his revolution orbs, but it’s just a treat for the sphere doomer. The sphere doomer keeps coming back for more treats and another attempt at a snack, and Magolor feels a little less lonely. Over time, he actually gains enough of its trust to pet it and even talks to it. He names her Lor II.

Lor II is the reason he gets out of Another Dimension and back to Halcandria, via opening a rift. Lor II basically gives Magolor a second chance to make things right, and he immeadiatly takes it. Of course, he has to steal the Starcutter to do it, but he makes his way to Popstar to apologize, because he REALLY regrets his major fuck up and at the very least, he can make things better (and maybe get a chance at being less lonely).

So that’s all I got lmao hope you enjoyed

[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 4, part 2

We found the guy staggering down the creek. We heard him before we saw him—he was wading through knee-deep water, half hunched over and groaning in pain. As he got closer, I was able to make out that he wasn’t human but crocodilian, and dressed for fishing. His pants had torn away below the knees, and I could make out bright green vines with vermillion buds snaking up his legs. He was bleeding where they burrowed into his hide. He looked up at us with glassy eyes and weakly called for help, reaching out with both hands. 

Automatically I moved to support him but Calder held me back. He told me he recognized the vines as marshbloom, a particularly nasty plant native to Blastfire Bog. An opportunistic parasite, it latched onto any skin that came into contact with it and fed on its host, growing until they were entirely overtaken and drained of their minerals. Once the marshbloom had fed all it could, the buds would open and spread their spores to find new hosts. 

This guy already looked to have been wandering for a couple of days; we didn’t have much time—probably only about another 24 hours. I told Calder to watch after him and make sure he didn’t wander off. Since Calder didn’t technically have skin, we agreed he might be able to physically restrain the afflicted man as a last resort. Meanwhile, I raced back to the cottage to scour my predecessor’s notes.

I found that her overall knowledge of the bog and its flora were spotty at best, but she did have an entry on the marshbloom. Her notes said that it should be treated like any other virulent parasite, but with extra focus on healing the skin. With the entry wounds closed, she noted, the portions of the plant inside the host’s body would be unable to photosynthesize and would simply die, and the portions outside would lose the necessary minerals and fall away.

With a little more research, I knew what I had to get. I dumped out the remaining breadcrumbs from my pack, had Ailean hop up on my shoulder, and set out for Hero’s Hollow.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I told the guards at the entrance that I was foraging and expected to be inside for less than an hour. Then I headed in, map in hand, to find some liquid fire.

It’s not quite lava, this substance (lava is molten rock and this is more akin to superheated magic), but it is quite hot. You need special gloves to handle it. It won’t burn you, but it will certainly feel as if it had. It’s great for clearing parasites if you can get it down—like a flash fire fever. I found it fairly easily, flowing right out of the wall (turns out Hero’s Hollow has a lot of natural deposits), and collected it with little issue. It was as I was headed back out, however, that I heard heavy, clanking footsteps sprinting towards me accompanied by a “what ho!”

I turned and looked to find a suit of armor approaching me fast. The visor was flipped up, showing that the helmet was clearly empty. “I, the Baron, challenge you to a duel, brigand!” The voice sounded more like a jester’s than a knight’s—or a baron’s, for that matter. I backed away and tried to tell this Baron that I really didn’t have the time (or the equipment or the skill) for a fight, but as I said so my back bumped up against the wall. The suit of armor ignored what I’d said, unsheathed its sword (the thin kind with a point, rather than the kind with two sharp sides), took on a cartoonish stance, and cried “en garde!”

I stayed very still for a good long while, and so did the armor. Every few seconds it shouted something like “you shan’t best me, scoundrel!” or “your scourge ends here!” Its accent was all rolled ‘r’s and rapidly fluctuating pitch. After about three minutes of this I finally went to try and just walk away, and the suit of armor immediately lunged forward and skewered my thigh.

I cried out, more out of shock than anything. It was a relatively shallow wound (I wrote “skewered” but it was more like “scraped”), but the sudden movement and prick of pain surprised me. The Baron, for its part, seemed delighted. It immediately turned and began to skip away, occasionally clicking its heels in the air and crying “tee-ha! Tee-hee! I, the Baron, have bested thee!” It disappeared around a bend in the corridor, but I could still hear it for a long while after as I bandaged my wound.

What a blighting nuisance. I supposed though, as I limped out of the dungeon, that it could easily have been a lot worse.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I headed back to Glimmerwood Grove next, to look for wild roses. The hip seeds promote skin health, and I thought they theoretically should be fairly abundant. But, as is my luck, they proved to be frustratingly elusive. I was already pretty annoyed when I ran into Kendre.

Kendre was a satyr, and (as they volunteered immediately upon seeing me) a druid who lived in the forest. Their arms were wiry, the rest of their human torso obscured by what appeared to be a grass-stained burlap sack with arm and neck holes cut out. The fur on their goat legs matched their russet hair. They wore complex jewelry, with earrings and necklaces and adornments to their curled horns all connected by small chains to form one large piece.

I asked how long they’d been living in Glimmerwood and they said just about their entire adult life. They mentioned a shack deep in the heart of the grove where they lived and gardened and kept to themselves. They said they didn’t normally forage this close to town but they were looking for something elusive.

I asked them if they had seen wild roses around and they thought for a moment before saying that roses had been an unusually rare sight this year. They apologized, and offered instead the location of a different plant: the coffee cap. Though unrelated to the bean (it’s actually a mushroom), it does contain about the same amount of caffeine and releases it into the body quicker when consumed. When added to a potion, its only real effect is to sharpen the patient’s senses—not useful for the task at hand. Still, I thanked them and followed their directions to find some—it’s always better to have more and more varied reagents on hand, just in case.

Kendre was the second denizen of Glimmerwood Grove I’d met who seemed to have no connection to the human society in Greenmoor or High Rannoc at large. As I plucked a mushroom and put it in my bag, I wondered if there were any more.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I didn’t have to wonder for long. After retrieving the coffee cap I headed back towards the path. I took a right that should have led me straight back onto it, but instead I found myself in a beautiful (if dilapidated) courtyard. I must have been caught in some kind of dimensional fold, as I surely would have noticed the high, ornate walls that now surrounded me had they been present before.

The walls themselves were ornate but clearly weathered, dotted with tall thin windows and covered with hanging moss and climbing vines. The floor was made of smooth bricks that must have once been an intense shade of lapis or ultramarine, but that had faded to a (still gorgeous) azure. They were cut and laid in a pattern that was symmetrical but irregular. It took a good bit of staring for me to realize it depicted the phases of the moon, running from right to left across the space’s center. At the corners of the courtyard were raised plant beds that may have once been carefully maintained, but now grew wild. Each had a great tree at the center. Three of them had a least one side that had cracked or buckled, allowing dirt to spill out and their tree’s great roots to spread less impeded. The fourth one, the one in the far left corner, held a smaller tree, mostly obscured by—to my surprise and delight—wild rose bushes!

I began to hurry towards them before the sound of a clearing throat stopped me. I had completely overlooked what was clearly meant to be the courtyard’s central feature: along the far wall was a great, ornate throne. It gleamed golden in the light, its high back intricately molded with dozens of humanoid figures in myriad combinations and contexts—probably recounting the plot of some long-forgotten myth. Seated on the throne, still regal and imposing despite being dwarfed by it, was a man. As I approached him I realized he was much taller than me, or for that matter any human. His skin was extremely pale, his form rake thin, his hair a nearly-white blond. He was dressed in a garb unfamiliar to me, though the dense ornamental fur of his cloak and the rich purple of his tunic and pants communicated his status anyway. He regarded me cooly with orange eyes as I took in the sight. Finally, I noticed his long, pointed ears and it clicked: this prince was an elf.

Belatedly I dropped to one knee and bowed my head. I hoped that was the correct gesture of respect for elven royalty; it had been many years since I took politesse classes in primary school, and I’d never had much use for what I learned from them before.

He chuckled and told me to rise. His voice, though a fairly high tenor, had a commanding sense of depth. He told me it had been far too long since he’d had a visitor, and I should feel welcome to stay as long as I like. I asked for his name, and he raised an eyebrow before telling me I could not have it, but that I could refer to him as His Majesty, the Crown Prince of Sovereign Go’ed-Wigg. I quickly apologized for my careless wording, and told him he could call me ‘F.’ Given the Crown Prince’s care with his own name I figured care of my own was in order. I decided to let it be ambiguous whether this was an initial, a random pseudonymous letter, or if I had chosen “Eff” as a name.

I asked the Crown Prince (as I decided to think of him because that full title was simply too much) if I might have one of his roses, so that I could heal a patient. He thought for a moment then said I could on two conditions: I had to give him a gift in return, and I had to listen to a story. I told him that my patient’s time was limited, but that so long as the story was of a reasonable length (I believe I specified no more than fifteen minutes), and so long as I myself got to choose my gift to him I would be happy to agree to those terms. His expression was unreadable enough that I couldn’t determine whether I’d wiggled my way out of some trick or not, but he conceded my conditions.

As the gift, I gave him the coffee cap I’d just obtained, and explained its uses. He told me he had heard of coffee caps before, but seemed satisfied with the gift anyway. He said with my limitation we wouldn’t have time for the full story, but he’d tell me the first part anyway. I can’t recount the Crown Prince’s exact wording—he spoke for a long time—but I’ll summarize as best I can.

Once (he told me), there were three queens. A queen of spades, who ruled over those things on the earth, a queen of diamonds, who ruled over those things below it, and a queen of clubs, who ruled over those things above. The queen of spades and diamonds neither one had a king, but each had one knight. The queen of clubs had no knight, though she did have a king—but he was perpetually absent.

The realm of the queen of spades was verdant and teeming with life, both plant and animal. The queen of clubs’ domain was bright and open and free, always fresh and always changing. The queen of diamonds, on the other hand, ruled a territory rich with minerals, precious metals, and gems, which all things that lived would eventually join as they decomposed and returned to their base materials.

The queen of diamonds, though, was uncaring of these gifts. She surveyed her realm and saw rot, slimy worms and scuttling insects, and tons and tons of dirt piled so much upon itself that there was barely room for plants or animals at all. She looked over the queendom of spades and the queendom of clubs, and all the light and life and variety and air they had, and she grew jealous. She resolved to take the other queens’ territories for herself.

The queen of diamonds knew that going to war immediately would be foolish. Her two rivals (the queen of spades especially) had dozens of subjects in fighting shape, and she had next to none. So, she worked on expanding her population. She promoted immigration, emphasizing the riches to be found in her domain. With her (previously unmentioned) magical powers, she engineered those denizens she already had over the course of generations into stronger, smarter, better fighters. She was raising an army.

What the queen of diamonds didn’t know was that her knight and the knight of spades were in love. They kept their affair hidden from their respective queens for obvious reasons, but met in secret regularly. Wishing to limit the chance that they might have to meet in battle personally, the knight of diamonds told the knight of spades what the queen was doing.

The knight of spades took this information to his own queen, who thankfully didn’t probe too deeply into how he’d learned it. Instead, she immediately set about raising an army of her own, and passed the information on to the queen of clubs personally.

The queen of clubs, then, faced a rather pressing issue: like the queen of diamonds, she did not have enough subjects in fighting shape to raise an army. Unlike her counterpart, however, she did not have several generations’ notice with which to rectify that weakness—nor did she even have a knight of her own.

So, after obtaining permission from her new ally, she searched far and wide in the domain of the queen of spades to find a champion, one who could inspire their peers to fight their hardest, with the knowledge to select the generals and lieutenants and foot soldiers who would be able to defend her queendom.

And find one she did. The champion was such an effective leader, so adept at rallying people to follow her with true deep-seated conviction for the cause, that she would come to be known as the queen of hearts.

It was at this point that the Crown Prince stopped and gestured to the rose bush. I realized that I’d become so thoroughly engrossed in his story that I’d lost track of time, and I was thankful I’d thought to set a time limit. He sensed this too, and as I went to pluck a rose hip he asked if I was enjoying the story. I asked him in turn where he’d learned it. He said that he was the only one in the world who knew it. I asked if he meant he’d made it up, and he didn’t respond.

Instead, he said I’d have to come back later to hear more of it. I told him I didn’t even know how I’d gotten here in the first place, much less how I’d return, but he insisted that I’d find my way. As I left the courtyard, he turned his attention back to the mushroom I’d given him, turning it over and over in his hands.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I was just about set to head back to Calder’s stream when I realized something all of a sudden: I couldn’t touch my patient, which meant I wouldn’t be able to force him to swallow the potion—he’d have to do it voluntarily, without spitting it out or spilling any. Liquid fire, one of my major ingredients, was notoriously both very hot and very spicy, making it difficult to stomach. I would need something to cover the taste. I remembered that I had the candy rock back at the cottage, but I was honestly closer to Moonbreaker Mountain. So, I decided to just run over and find some on my own.

I took a path I hadn’t been on before. About halfway up the mountain, I came across Mòrag McKinney, knelt at a shrine. It took her a long time to notice me, but when she did she smiled and bade me sit down next to her. She told me this was a shrine to Cernunnos, the antlered god of nature, hunters, druidry, fertility, and warriors. She said those going on journeys often placed offerings at it hoping for his favor. I asked if she was going on a journey and she said no, she’d just started coming here recently. Something about it called her.

She traced little circles in the dirt with her finger as she told me about Cernunnos, his ability to call animals to him, how wild-growing plants were considered his bounty. I had heard of Cernunnos before, even if I hadn’t studied him closely, but I let her speak. When she was finished, I apologized and told her I was on a deadline. I asked her where I might find the candy rocks. She seemed disappointed to see me go, but directed me a little ways up the path. I hurried off and found a large cluster easily. The rocks (crystals, really) were extremely brittle—I could break off a good-sized chunk with my hand. Once I’d done so, I hurried back to Calder’s river.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

Here is how I made the potion:

First, I crushed the rose hip seeds with my travel mortar and pestle.

Then, I collected some water (Calder was kind enough to let me borrow a bit of his)

Then, I combined it with the seed powder, liquid fire, and candy rock.

Finally, I shook it until it was all combined.

I decided to call the potion Bog’s Bane—a fitting enough name, as it ended up looking like orange mud. My crocodilian patient was staring vaguely off into the distance, so I gave the potion to Calder so he could help get it down. Once he’d finished it, the patient gasped and his eyes unclouded. Already the visible vines crawling up his legs were withering, their yellow buds falling off. I told him he ought to go see Dr. Ardor-Knox in town, and to tell them that he was seriously drained of vitamins and likely anemic. I didn’t know if the doctor had the requisite knowledge of crocodilian physiology to treat him, but I figured sending patients their way might help smooth things over with them. The crocodilian was still a bit out of it but seemed to understand well enough. He paid me for the potion and stumbled off in the direction of Greenmoor.

When he was gone, I turned to Calder to apologize that my work had cut our picnic short. He said to think nothing of it—the man would have stumbled into his creek anyway, so it was good that someone who knew how to treat him was present when he did. Nevertheless, I asked if we could have a do-over soon, and he said he’d like that.

It was far too late by that point for anything further to happen (though if it’s not wishful thinking there was certainly some tension), so I resigned myself to trudging back home. Now that I’ve recounted the day's events, I’m going straight to bed. Here’s hoping that tomorrow isn’t quite so hectic.

⇦●〇●⇨

[gumnut-logic]

Barbecue

This story is @godsliltippy​ ‘s fault. It was spawned in an Animal Crossing game, apparently, and she mentioned the concept to me and immediately sparked an idea. I feel what resulted isn’t quite what she had in mind, but I’m not in control here, sorry :D In fact, the whole thing turned into a weird ramble about Tracys really rather than a cohesive story.

I posted the beginning of this a while back when my muse took a hit and refused to write anymore. As it was never planned to be anything but one chapter, I have posted it as a whole now that it is finished. So you might find that you’ve already read the first bit. Sorry. Skip to the origami scene, dinner being served and you’ll find the new stuff.

Thank you to @scribbles97​ for the read through and support :D

I hope you enjoy this mostly Tracy fluff :D

-o-o-o-

It wasn’t often that the Tracys got together as a family. Sure, they lived on an island together, saw each other every day and even worked together. But there was a big difference between sharing a room versus sharing an event.

This time around, it wasn’t a special day or anything in particular, but Gordon had decided that the family needed some down time, had sweet talked Grandma who had the power to make it happen and International Rescue had been shut down for an evening.

John was dragged down from orbit a few days earlier so he could actually walk without his gravity assistance. When he complained, Grandma tore him a new one.

He didn’t comment after that, though Gordon swore he heard Eos laughing at him at one point.

Gordon thought it would be somewhat scary to have an AI laughing at you, but John just rolled his eyes and glared laser beams at his fish brother when he realised he was watching.

Johnny was such a soft target, but his revenge was lethal.

Gordon decided on a hasty retreat.

It was a simple barbecue on the beach down by one of the huts. A chance to laze on the sand, chat and just be family.

Now that Dad was home, their family was almost whole.

There would be no daring, to-the-ends-of-the-solar-system rescue for their mother. It just wasn’t something they could fix, so technically they would never be entirely whole again, but things were what they were and Gordon preferred to think positive.

The alternative sucked.

So, barbecue on the beach. Barbecue usually meant Virgil was cooking, but Two had been called out on a rescue just after lunch and that was following the one before lunch and the one after breakfast.

Scott had gone with Virg earlier and Gordon even earlier, but the second eldest waved him away on the third. It was a simple one. He would be back in time to turn the burgers.

He wasn’t.

It was left to John to fend off both Scott and Grandma, as neither were allowed near the barbecue. And while John was a bit more of a connoisseur than Virgil with his burgers perfected rather than barbecued, he still managed a great steak.

Whereas Scott would burn it.

Alan wasn’t allowed near the food otherwise no one else would get any.

Gordon did the salads. He was one to do things to carrots that no one else would think of. Even Virgil admired his radish roses and the salad dressings he created. Kayo sometimes helped him and today was one of those days.

Scott was usually tasked with furniture set up, but today he was hovering in the comms room keeping an eye on Virgil.

After all, three rescues in one day was a hefty workload.

And Dad? Well, Scott got his worry wart genes from somewhere.

“Is he on his way back?” Gordon strode into the comms room to find his father seated at his desk and Scott hovering like a lost soul, both staring at the holoprojector and a hologram of what was obviously Two’s external camera. Virgil was wearing his exo-suit and hauling several large containers onto his ‘bird.

He looked tired.

Gordon frowned. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Gordon. Packing up now.” It was still weird when Dad answered a question like that and not Scott.

Especially when there was a furrow on his eldest brother’s forehead.

Dad noticed Gordon’s gaze and looked over at Scott. “He’s fine, son. You worry too much.” Their father swiped at a secondary hologram on the desk, pushed his chair back and stood up. His cane rattled against the chair as he grabbed it to make his way over to Scott.

Who was still frowning. “Sorry, Dad. Just three in a row. He’s supposed to be home.”

“It’s the nature of the business.”

Scott looked at his father as if to say ‘Really?’

Dad cleared his throat. “Hmm, you have a point.” He straightened. “But we have to trust Virgil when he says he is okay.”

Scott’s grunt was non-committal.

Dad dropped a hand onto Scott’s shoulder. “He’s coming home and he’s staying home.”

Scott continued to stare at the hologram of his brother in the centre of the room. It was obvious Scott obviously wanted to skip all that and just have Virgil safe on the Island.

Scott wasn’t very good at waiting.

“Hey, Scotty, can you help Alan with the table?” At least it would have his brother doing something for a few minutes. By then Virgil would be in the air and on his way home.

“Sure.” But it was distracted and those eyes still hadn’t left the hologram.

As if on cue there was the sound of breaking glass and a number of rather offensive words from the kitchen.

As Scott moved almost as fast as his ‘bird, Gordon bit his lip and secretly applauded Kayo’s back up plan.

It worked. By the time Scott felt secure enough to let Kayo loose in the kitchen by herself again – Gordon swore she play acted the scene, any other time a brother would be dead for questioning her capabilities – Thunderbird Two could be heard on approach and all that was left to do was for Scott to run down to the hangars to check on his brother in person.

It was worth the milk jug and the clean-up.

As expected, Virgil was fine. A little tired, yes, but functional and looking forward to the evening on the beach.

He cleaned himself up, donned his flannel civvies and wandered down to the beach.

There was much discussion between John and the tired engineer about burgers until Gordon rounded up Virgil and set him doing fancy things with paper napkins.

If they ended up with fifty swans, twenty parakeets and forty-odd doves, he didn’t care. It was obvious Virgil was beat, running on a post rescue high and just needed something to do. The fact he was somewhat of an origami addict just worked in Gordon’s favour.

It also helped that Grandma sat with Virgil to keep him company.

Dinner was cooked and served. There was a bounty of food. If Gordon knew one thing it was that the key to a good get together was food and lots of it.

John’s steaks and burgers were divine as always, though lacking the char Virgil usually gave them. Gordon had a second helping, regardless.

Scott was still keeping an eye on Virgil, but their engineer brother seemed fine, stuffing food in his face at his usual muscle building rate.

Gordon kept an eye on Scott, noting that the eldest couldn’t seem to drop his concern.

Gordon toyed with the idea of asking Grandma to stall IR for the next day as well. The eldest two could do with a day off, obviously.

He’d talk to her later.

Dessert was an ice cream concoction with just enough alcohol and fruit in it to tickle the senses, topped with a crisp meringue. Basically, it was enough sugar to fuel a Thunderbird.

Which it did. All five brothers definitely appeared brighter after the meal and it was Scott of all people who suggested they go for a swim.

Gordon could never say no to that.

Private islands had their uses and the beach hut had change rooms and supplies for exactly this reason. Hiking all the way up the hill to the villa was not needed. Even Grandma had her own stash of swimwear down here and it was with some vivacity that the family descended on the hut and shed their clothing.

Except for Gordon who had come fully prepared because he was Gordon and there was a beach involved. So, it was with some amusement that he volunteered to tidy up the table while everyone changed clothes.

Scott stared at him for a full ten seconds obviously wondering if he needed to fetch a medical scanner.

Gordon just poked out his tongue and started collecting plates.

Their father had spent a great deal of time in the water since he had returned. Gordon actually enjoyed that fact. It gave him the opportunity to spend time with a man who had not only been missing for eight years, but prior to that had been mostly too busy to take a swim with his son.

There had been talks. Lots of talks. Even a few fragile moments.

The water gave his dad physical support that was sorely needed. John was known to take to the pool or the ocean for the same reason. Alan not so much. The baby of the family was not a water one. He enjoyed it, but his preferred environment involved rocket fuel and orbital stats.

Ultimately all the Tracys liked a fun dip in their private lagoon. Though, if he was honest, Gordon wondered if his brothers would be so eager to stick their toes in the water if they knew of the visitors the caldera sometimes received. He smirked to himself as Alan emerged from the hut, ran yelling down the slope, and barrelled into the water.

Gordon grinned. They weren’t dumb, but the aquanaut had installed certain sensors in the lagoon for a reason. It was his job to protect his family in the ocean, after all.

Scott wandered down the slope at an easier pace. He was wearing blue board shorts and displaying far more tanned skin than most of them.

John didn’t even bother and left his t-shirt on. Obviously taking no chances even though the sun was almost setting. His arms and legs still glowed and Gordon was hard put not to poke fun.

His astronaut brother must have picked up the vibes because he glared as he stalked past.

Grandma stepped down lightly beside their father, both wearing shirts. Dad had unspoken issues about the condition of his body and Grandma claimed that she couldn’t compete with the GQ covers surrounding her.

As far as he was concerned, Gordon was just happy they were there and having fun.

Because they were.

Grandma helped their dad onto the beach and then took a running jump into the water, her strong stroke chasing the eldest out into the lagoon.

It was Kayo who stopped at the edge with their father. Beaches were notorious for transmitting sound and, as he gathered dishes, Gordon could hear her soft voice even at this distance.

She was speaking Malay ever so quietly.

His father replied in the same.

Surprised Gordon couldn’t help glancing in their direction. She was looking up at his father with an expression of such gentleness, her hand on his arm. Gordon’s heart swelled and he looked away. He knew his sister had always been close with their father, but she was usually far from demonstrative. Tin’s early life had done so much to shape who she was today.

Gordon had a hate for her uncle that reached far beyond his own personal injury.

He finished stacking the picnic crockery and cutlery to the tune of the playful sounds in the bay. A quick wash of his hands in rainwater and he turned to face the lagoon.

His father was floating beside Tin and they were obviously having a private conversation. Scott, Alan, John and Grandma were apparently having a race. Gordon stared at that activity for a full moment, noting stroke strength and style. As always, Grandma was the most efficient, but the two older brothers outpaced her simply on strength and youth. Alan’s heart didn’t seem to be in it at all, but then Allie was secretly a softie when it came to Grandma and was probably losing on purpose.

He shared that with Virgil but for entirely different reasons. Virgil looked after Grandma. Grandma looked after Allie and was really the only maternal parent his little brother knew.

Not that he would ever admit any of it. Virgil was obvious. Alan was still far too teenager to admit to anything.

Gordon frowned. Speaking of Virgil, where the hell was the big softie?

Gordon’s eyes tracked over the water. What the hell? There was no sign of him.

He had come down, hadn’t he?

Gordon spun on the spot, hackles rising, eyes scanning the beach, the trail and the hut.

He thumbed his collar. “Eos, do you have a location on Virgil?”

“Hello, Gordon. Virgil is in Beach Hut Number Seven. His comms have been removed from his body and hence security-disabled. I really wish you and your brothers wouldn’t do that. It is disconcerting.”

Gordon didn’t acknowledge the AI, instead darting up the path to the hut.

As with everything on Tracy Island, the rustic little structure was more than it seemed. Security sensors recognised him as he touched the door and allowed him entrance. He swung it open and entered what equated to a mixture of storage facility and functional outpost. From here, any member of the family could get to the hangars fast via a hidden monorail system underground. It was one of several collection points dotted around the Island for sudden callouts.

But it also doubled as short-term shelter and basically a place to stash stuff. From swimwear to water sports equipment to art materials, the not so little huts held all sorts of things.

But the one thing Gordon was looking for was a heavy lifting brother.

He poked through the change cubicles. “Virgil?” It was quiet except for the sounds of the breeze and the ocean in the distance echoing through the still open door.

And the soft sound of snoring.

Really?

He found the last cubicle locked and had to jimmy the door to get it open.

Each change cubicle contained a bench and that is where his found his big brother.

Virgil had somehow managed to curl up on the far too small ledge and was fast asleep.

Gordon let out a sigh of relief suddenly realising exactly how worried he had actually been at his brother’s sudden absence.

The sigh fast turned into a fond smile as the worry slipped away. Not only was Virgil asleep in an odd spot, but he appeared to have fallen into slumber while undressing. His boots lay discarded to one side and his flannel shirt hung from a hook along with his grey t-shirt. But his jeans were still half on, down around his knees. It was almost as if he had sat down to remove them and tipped sideways on the bench, curling up against the wall half naked.

Gordon’s smile turned into a frown.

It would have been prime humour material involving photographs and eternal ribbing if it wasn’t for one factor.

Bruises.

His brother had a number of them down one side. What the hell?

Gordon stepped closer. None looked serious by themselves, but there were enough to suggest Virgil had taken a fall of some kind earlier in the day. An unreported fall. Gordon bit his lip. Unless…

A clatter of wet feet and Scott was suddenly there beside him, dripping on the floor. “What happened?”

Gordon shrugged. “Looks like he fell asleep while getting undressed.” He eyed his brother. “Did he report a fall?”

Scott took a step closer, staring at the bruises on Virgil’s torso. “Yes, but none of this.” A frustrated breath. “Hell, Virg.”

As if responding to his name, Virgil snorted in his sleep and tried to roll over.

And promptly fell off the bench.

Both Scott and Gordon lunged in to catch him, awkwardly scooping up limbs and important body parts, desperate to stop him from hitting the concrete. The man did not need any more contusions.

All three ended up on the floor. And while Virgil hadn’t acquired any more bruising, Gordon’s knees certainly had and there was a definite elbow to his collar bone that was likely to sprout something a little purple at least.

“Virg, wake up.” Scott’s voice was definitely in commander mode, but still soft with that brotherly worry that seemed to be ingrained in his personality.

Another snort and dopey brown eyes opened. There was little behind them for a full moment as they stared up at Scott who was still holding his brother against his chest.

Virgil blinked as water dripped on him. “Wha-?”

“You fell asleep, bro. In your underwear.”

“Wha’ the hell? Ugh, you’re all wet.” Virgil struggled to sit up. Both Scott and Gordon sat back and let their brother right himself.

Sitting up, Virgil let his back fall against the bench and sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry.”

Gordon could hear the creak of his eldest brother’s frown beside him. “And so you should be. What is this?” Scott pointed at the bruises decorating Virgil’s right side.

The engineer blinked and looked down at himself. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Why weren’t they reported?”

An arched eyebrow as Virgil looked back up at his brother. “They’re just bruises. It was a busy day.” Those brown eyes latched onto Scott. “I’m okay.”

“You fell asleep while changing your clothes.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m a little tired.” But then his eyes turned to Gordon. “I just didn’t want to miss out on the party.”

Gordon’s heart twitched at the honesty in those eyes. “You idiot. We could have done it tomorrow.”

Virgil looked down at his feet. “Probably would have been called out again.”

Gordon huffed. “No, Virgil, because tomorrow is a day off.”

It was Gordon’s turn to be frowned at by Scott, but the aquanaut was having none of it. He held up a hand. “No, Scott, was thinking it would be a good idea earlier and now it is certain. I’m speaking to Grandma.” He pursed his lips. “Or I can skip that step and just convince you here and now while dopey here has his purple decorations on display.”

“Hey!” Virgil got his frown on, but Gordon ignored him, keeping his own determination targeted on Scott.

Defiant blue flared for all of a second before looking down. Scott hated taking International Rescue offline. Gordon understood why and agreed, but there were limits.

Gordon reached out and gripped his big brother’s arm gently. “You need the time off, bro. You’re exhausted as much as dopey here.”

Blue eyes caught his for a moment and Gordon could see the decision being made behind them.

Quiet. “Okay.”

Gordon smiled just a little and squeezed that arm.

“What are you guys doing?” Alan, followed by John poked their heads in the door. “Kayo beat John by a – whoa, Virg, what the hell happened to you?”

Virgil didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he did push himself to his feet. “Work, okay?”

Several sets of eyes landed on Scott expecting a follow up on that statement.

The commander sighed and stood up. “John, can you please notify the GDF that International Rescue will be unavailable for another day at least.”

The space monitor nodded as sharply as usual, despite the fact his hair had obviously been hurriedly scrubbed with a towel and was sticking up in all directions. “FAB.” He slipped out of the room.

Alan was still staring at Virgil.

Another sigh. “Guys, can I finish getting dressed?”

Scott pointed at his brother. “You are going back to the villa to get some shuteye.”

“No, I’d like to go for a swim first and cool down.”

For a moment there, Gordon’s two eldest brothers glared at each other, neither willing to give in.

Virgil’s frown looked to crawl off his face and throttle Scott. “It’s only bruises. A swim, a shower and bed, I promise.”

Scott sighed. “Fine.” His lips twitched a little smugly. “Good luck explaining that lot to Dad and Grandma.” He turned and stalked out of the cubicle, herding Alan with him.

Virgil sagged and sat down with a groan.

He looked so dejected, Gordon felt sorry for him. “Hey, bro. Wear a t-shirt and they will never know.”

His brother grunted and started pulling off his jeans. A sigh. “Thanks, Gords.”

“Not a problem. Gotta look after my wingman after all.” He furnished that statement with a grin.

Virgil arched an eyebrow up at him, but Gordon could see the smile building behind his eyes.

“Go. Get. Let me get dressed.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Get out.”

Gordon cackled and waltzed out of the cubicle.

He didn’t go far. He stopped just outside the beach hut and waited for his brother to finish up. The sun was fast approaching the horizon and everything was a wonderful gold colour.

Down on the beach, Scott was speaking with their father, no doubt reporting the situation. Gordon held back a sigh. Virg was likely in for it despite the t-shirt.

There was more than one way to give a guy a break, for goodness sake.

Dad looked up the hill at Gordon and caught his eyes.

Gordon gave him a mock salute.

If he had to run interference for Virgil, so be it. After all, he meant it when he said he had to look after his ‘wingman’.

Gordon rolled his shoulders and grinned at Scott as his brother looked up frowning.

His wingman needed a break.

So, Gordon would give him one.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 07

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right? 

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5k

< masterpost >

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  Soojin’s heels clapped loudly against the hardened floor as she sprinted through the office. Her straight black hair swung uncontrollably in her haste, and her hands were clammy from the sudden exertion.

“Unni! Why are you rushing?”  I called hopelessly, left to trail in her rapid footsteps in a desperate attempt to catch up.

I’d only just arrived at the building for work five minutes prior, but someone had grasped my wrist after crossing the threshold into my own office. Soojin’s flurried instructions and widened eyes were the only indicators I was provided with before apparently having to make a run for my life.

“We need more people down at the concert hall! There’s no-one available, hurry!” 

My eyebrows furrowed as my brain grasped at her words, not really understanding what was happening. The concert was tonight? How could I even forget something like that?

“Shit, but I thought we didn’t get involved with the concerts?” I questioned the short-haired woman, who was clad from head to toe in office-wear ironically as if to fortify my point. We had stopped sprinting once we reached the carpark outside and I squealed when the assistant bundled me straight into one of the transport vans out the back. I was extremely surprised at how spontaneous everything seemed at the moment.

“Well, we don’t usually. But I received a call for help, and you were the only person who didn’t have a packed schedule for tonight,” Soojin huffed, combing her hair away from her flustered face. She didn’t join me, but instead waved a hand towards the driver as a signal to depart.

“Sorry for the short notice, you’ll have fun though!”

Before I could even open my mouth in protest, the door was closed with a thud and I was left to wallow in the deafening silence. Sighing in defeat, I wondered if these kinds of things always happened around Bighit Entertainment.

“Oh my…we’re so sorry (Y/n)-ssi.”

I glanced up to see the remaining seats taken up by three other women, much to my surprise. They looked just as shocked as I did, but I could tell they were relieved they’d actually received the help they wanted.

“We didn’t expect Soojin to rush you over here like that, I apologise.” The oldest of the bunch shook her head and muttered drowsily. She was so obviously used to the stress-head assistant being excessively dramatic.

I noticed they were all dressed in darkened clothing to remain hidden if they ever needed to be directly backstage, and was just glad I hadn’t decided to adorn anything too flashy or bright for the working day.

It’s a bit of a change, but I didn’t have anything else planned anyway.

“It's fine, I’m willing to help out with anything the stylists and backstage crew need. What will I be doing tonight?”

The women were surrounded by plastic boxes full of stylistic and colourful stage clothes, but one also held a smaller crate full of makeup and cleaning supplies in her lap. I was a bit confused about what particular job they would be doing for the event.

 “We’re bringing over supplies for now, but we just help out with anything that needs to be done. Usually we have many other volunteers, but tonight we had too many people call in absent.”

I fought the sudden urge to roll my eyes at the statement. This exact thing had happened when they needed an interpreter a few weeks back. Why were the employees around here so unreliable as of late?

“Okay, so we’ll be pretty pressed tonight, right?”

“Yep, unfortunately,” the eldest spoke again, looking crestfallen all of a sudden. “But we’re good at what we do, so we’ll be able to hold it together for them the best we can.”

Admiration for their resolve sizzled within me, and I nodded to try and put out the same attitude. I would do my best to make sure everything flowed nicely as well, even though I had no experience with backstage shenanigans.

“If you could,” the one holding the smallest crate piped up, “would you please take these down to the stylists when we get there? You can station yourself in the dressing rooms and help them with anything they need for the night.”

I was growing more excited by the minute, and the thought of spending more time with the stylists at an actual concert made me outright giddy. I was actually becoming quite close with them now, as I still made occasional coffee stops downstairs whenever they needed the extra energy.

“Of course. I’ll do my best.”

The crate wasn’t too heavy to lug around, and there was no trouble navigating the concert hall based off the given instructions. The entire hall was flurried with excited workers, and I almost got trodden on by way too many anxious supervisors and staff while trying to get to the stylist’s hallway.

Damn, these functions are intense…

I finally managed to reach the humid room, trying to rush in time for the working men and women to gather everything they needed. The concert was due to start soon, and usually all the makeup and necessary last-minute fittings would’ve been completed already. Something must have gone awry with the entire line of communication.

I could only manage a throaty cough when arriving at the dressing room. The stinging smell of scented hairspray laced the air way too thickly for me to even breathe. Nobody else seemed to be having a problem though, because I was instantly greeted with a skyrocketing enthusiasm.

"(Y/n)-ah! Thank God you’re here!”

“(Y/n)’s here?”

A male stylist popped his head around one of the ajar doorframes, and I managed a smile when he bowed and hurriedly took the crate from my outstretched arms. Obviously, they had been wanting these extra supplies for quite some time.

I glanced around to see darkly attired people promptly going about their usual jobs, but my breath hitched when I saw a few of the performers themselves seated in the chairs assigned for the hair specialists.

Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.

 Even though I’d recently come to know them on a personal level, the simple fact that they were existing within my vicinity caused my heart to beat erratically. I was continuously flooded with love and admiration for these boys, and having to contain it for so long was probably detrimental to my health. The sudden spike of adrenaline from the thrilled atmosphere did not help my churning emotions.

My mood dampened slightly when I saw the effect of the miscommunications painted clearly on each of their features. Yoongi was still cool and collected, having his earbuds plugged right in and his eyes closed placidly as a hairdresser worked gel deep into his fading locks.

Namjoon was fiddling impatiently with his fingers, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth occasionally as he tried to analyse the situation. On the outside, it looked as if he was as composed as ever, smiling at anyone who met with his perusing eyes, but I knew he was growing frazzled at the edges due to everyone losing their minds around him.

Jimin and Jungkook both looked quite lost, in one way or another. The younger members were glancing around and tapping their toes against the hardened flooring in bouts of anxiety. Jimin kept glancing at the maknae next to him, almost as if majority of his burden was a direct result of worrying too much about the other boy, and I saw him murmur a few soothing phrases here and there. It wasn’t as if they were a complete mess. They had obviously dealt with poorly planned concerts before, but I knew it still wasn’t pleasant for anyone.

Not one of them even knew I had entered the room.

“(Y/n)-ah, can you please, please do me a massive favour and straighten his hair? I’ll be back very soon!” One of the noonas scrambled towards me and dropped a large straightener right into my startled fingers. I snapped my eyes upwards to see the woman’s pleading gaze boring into my own before she darted away to address a more urgent matter.

I eventually shifted my gaze to Jungkook’s chair, which she had abruptly abandoned, and slowly began to make my way in that direction.

“Hey, maknae.” I smirked and rested one hand on the boy’s rigid shoulder, coming up to push his swivelling chair further into the makeup bench. His doe eyes widened, and I felt his whole body jerk underneath my touch, letting me know just how on edge he truly was.

“(Y/n)-noona? What?”

“Hey, hey. Everything’s gonna be fine, don’t get so tensed up or you’ll give yourself a cramp,” I chided, keeping my voice steady while attempting to plug in the straightener swiftly enough. If I wanted the boy to feel prepared, he needed this done as quickly as possible. Probably even quicker than that.

Under my hand, which I had begun to rub against his shoulder sympathetically, he sighed with a profound heaviness and loosened his posture. Feeling playful, I raised my fingers upwards to comb through and ruffle his messy dark strands of hair. He chuckled at my actions and even tried to duck away eventually, but I was just glad to see his cheeky smile again. The mirror was a little dirty from dustings of powders and sprays that just continued to build up, but I could still see what I was doing clearly.

“I have to straighten this mop now, so hold still you brat,” I teased the younger boy with a whine, since he wouldn’t stop trying to move away from me.

“Well, well. What brings you here Ms. Uber?” a deeper voice suddenly droned from the seat to our left, and I turned my eyes away from Jungkook’s gleaming ones to figure out where it was coming from. There, I was met with Yoongi’s curious pucker, which in turn morphed into an amused smirk at my expression.

I gave a sharp raise of my eyebrows before saying, “I don’t know what kind of show you people are running, but this seems more like a zoo to me.”

He laughed brusquely and pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek, catlike eyes crinkling up with his smile in the most adorable way.

“You’re definitely not wrong there.”

“(Y/n)? When the hell did you get here!?” a breathy tone, which undoubtedly belonged to Jimin, caused me to smile wider before turning my head in the opposite direction. He was currently getting the finishing touches done to his makeup via the powder brush, but I must’ve been pretty identifiable by voice alone. It was probably the bluntness.

“I’ve actually been here for about ten minutes or so, but you guys were way too stressed out to notice. I hope you all know things are getting sorted out as we speak, it just looks like bomb-zone because humans are awkward and don’t know how to deal with their shit.”

The three of them snorted or exhaled their mirth, and I even saw Namjoon who was scrolling through his phone absentmindedly nod in agreement. The taller man’s whole frame trembled once as a sign of laughter, and I sniggered inwardly at the thought of him eavesdropping. The leader was sitting one seat further down than Yoongi, but it seemed like he wasn’t going to join into the conversation just yet.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Jungkook mumbled, casting his eyes downwards once more before sighing again. I couldn’t massage his shoulder comfortingly anymore because my sole task was now straightening his freshly cleaned hair. Though I still badly wanted to engulf the wearied boy in a heartfelt hug to help him forget all his misgivings.

“I know you guys would do great out there, regardless of what went down backstage anyway,” I continued, running my fingers gently against Jungkook’s scalp once I had straightened out all of the kinked tresses. He leaned back into my hand, a small smile appearing at the kneading sensations against his skull. All of his worries were hopefully grooved out in these short moments of serenity.

“If she’s here, someone get Jin-hyung before he blows a fuse,” Yoongi exclaimed indignantly and jerked out both of his earbuds to look around. I watched with confusion as the other members gasped and started calling out raucously for the eldest member. Jimin couldn’t contain his chortles and leaned over to wack one small hand against Jungkook.

“Quick, he’ll starve us if we let this happen!”

The woman from before suddenly appeared next to me, and my eyes tore away from Jungkook’s peaceful expression to see her smiling visage. “Ah, thank you so much (Y/n)! You can go back to what you were doing now,” she said before sliding across to examine Jungkook.

“Wow, you’ve done an excellently thorough job, maybe you should be in the styling room with us instead of that stuffy office!”

I giggled, handing over the warmed straightener into her pale, awaiting palms. “I’m sorry unni, but your room is no less stuffy. How do your lungs even function with that much hairspray in your system?”

She sighed and shook her head knowingly before returning to work on the glossy mop of hair in front of her. The young singer had once again tensed up in the shoulders, and I had to bite back a growl of disapproval.

“Okay…I guess I’ll see you guys some other time, maybe after?” I managed to half-sigh, surprisingly more saddened than I thought about leaving them. Jimin, Yoongi and even Namjoon had turned to give me their undivided attention while Jungkook simply met my gaze directly through the mirror in front of him. All four looked taken aback, the reason for their bewilderment a complete and utter mystery.

“Break a leg, I’ll be cheering from wherever I am.” I began to back away, teasingly blowing a kiss towards all of them to break the tensioned air. At the gesture, Jimin reached upwards sharply to catch the kiss with widened eyes, and this caused everyone to break out into giggles and chuckles.

I continued to help out wherever I was needed, mostly carrying boxes and supplies around the concert hall whenever there was an impromptu need for them. I even ran into a breathless Taehyung a good fifteen minutes or so before the concert was about to launch. Since the walkway was tiny, I quickly pressed myself into the wall with my hands splayed on the painted surface to let him pass by.

“(Y/n)? Hello! I’m sorry, I’m in a rush.” He grinned widely and rested both of his large hands on my shoulders to inch along as quickly as he could. He’d clearly been rehearsing, so the body heat radiating from the boy was borderline crazy.

“Hey, good luck out there!” I called after him when I finally managed to regain some breath into my body, receiving a half-hearted wave and a booming ‘Thank you!’ in return as he continued to sprint down the narrow passage. My eyes trailed his slightly wavy grey-brown hair as it bobbed with his movements, endlessly thanking whoever invented bandanas. It wouldn’t be so farfetched to believe they were made exclusively for him.

 It was time for the boys to get fitted with the clothes they would be performing in, and I quivered gleefully at the thought of seeing their dances and vocals up close. This was about to be the best concert experience I could possibly dream of.

“It’s going to start soon!” A woman who was part of the backstage crew ushered me out of the walkway, and I met up once again with the three helpers I’d arrived with. Their brows were glistening, and their breathing ragged. I knew they’d been working just as hard as I had been.

“Well done, all of you.” The eldest chuckled airily. “Now we’ll be side-stage to help with equipment and props. When you feel like you don’t have a job to do, talk to that blonde coordinator standing next to the curtain.”

I followed her gesture to see a significantly younger looking woman who was preoccupied with ordering workers around rapidly. Even though she was under fire from the stressful organisation, she threw out directions and commands like a programmed machine gun. I gulped as I watched her alternate between muttering into her headset and steadily directing every single person who so much as peeped in her direction.

The other assistants moved off, obviously already having things to see and get done, but I was left to consult the aforementioned coordinator herself.

“There’s so much to do, but everything is being looked into. Could you please go to the left wing and speak with the crew there? I think there was something about quick changes,” the blonde woman barely took a breath before dishing out the instructions, and I knew things were really starting to intensify as the lights of the concert hall dimmed.

The sounds of loud cheering and screaming only flooded my ears now, and I was left baffled on how they had been tuned out for so long. The adrenaline must have worked its way into my head and created figurative earplugs.

Wow, maybe you’re just going deaf already. Let’s face it.

The excitement continued to bundle around within me as I ducked into a different walkway that crossed backstage. I hadn’t been over to this side yet, but I knew it was where the resting and recovery section was most of the time.

“Okay, are you the helper?” A middle-aged woman with deeply set eyes greeted me as soon as I emerged into the open space, and I could only nod enthusiastically. She smiled warmly in relief and guided me over to where a few piles of clothes were lined up against the back wall.

“This is where quick changes happen, but it’s only occasionally and there’s never a point where all the members need a quick change of clothes at the same time. You’re here for us if we need the extra help, it’s always good to have another pair of hands when things don’t work out.”

“That’s understandable, I’ll look out and help if I need to,” I responded with confidence, and only received a brisk nod in reply. The concert had begun, and the shrill screams of fans rose upwards until it was a literal roar of exhilaration and awe. I suddenly grew disappointed, because I realised only then that I wouldn’t actually see any glimpses of the concert at all. I would just be stuck back here listening to the action unfold.

 Well, it’s better than nothing. This job has already brought me a lot more than I could have ever asked for.

I strained my ears intently to listen to the boys as they greeted their fans affectionately, just as they usually did, and tried to conjure up the image of their smiling faces. Their declarations of love for ARMY used to make my heart clench and squeeze with a crushing adoration, but now I felt somehow disconnected. It was as if they were addressing something completely separate, almost like…I wasn’t even a member of the fanbase anymore.

It wasn’t as if I was any less of a fan, it just felt so different and alien to identify as normal now. Especially as an International-ARMY, who were known for collectively struggling with the idea of never meeting the boys and only getting rare visits. I suddenly felt as though my fortified world as a fan had shifted on its axis.

When ‘Fire’ started blaring through the speakers of the stadium, the tumbling thoughts vanished, and a smile suddenly erupted onto my features. Memories of the action-packed lesson back in the practice room at Bighit caused me to shake my head fondly. Was it strange that I had to fight the urge to break into the dance routine Hoseok and Jimin had taught me? Maybe, but I wasn’t ashamed.

Maybe, there was an off chance they were reliving the same memories? I doubted it, but it would be hilarious to see their faces during this performance and catch any random, straying grins or chuckles.

As the minutes flew by, I hung back against the wall a few metres away and glanced around to see if my help would be required. Then, a couple of seconds after the third song – ‘Save Me’ – drew to a close, the sound of hasty footsteps ricocheted off the large surrounding walls. There was barely any warning before three of the members burst into the area and scrambled for the piles of clothes on the ground. In the darkness of backstage, I could just distinguish the features of Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok. The three rappers.

They quickly shrugged on oversized coats and the crew helped them speedily by looping shimmering chains around their sweaty necklines. I figured they must have been going out to perform one of the ‘Cyphers’, as suggested by their suddenly delinquent fashion sense. I watched with wonderment as the heavily breathing performers worked themselves up to deliver their savagely natured disses.

A couple of minutes soon passed after they’d taken their leave. The loud, banging track was pulsating through the air around those of us waiting in the wings. When the final verse opened up, more panting bodies arrived into the changing area. The vocalists needed to begin gearing up for their own performance after this one, and I was eager to possibly hear ‘Dimple’ or maybe even ‘Lost’? Anything would’ve literally been A-okay with me at that moment.

The vocalists tried their best to remove their shirts in the quickest and quietest way possible, but it wouldn’t have mattered much because ‘Cypher 4’ had enough noise and adlibbing to accompany a battlefield movie scene. Plus, they were getting enough help from the crew members to shuck their decorative getups in no time. All except a very flustered Seokjin…

Seeing the oldest member of BTS up close for the first time rendered me speechless, and it suddenly struck me that he was the only one I hadn’t actually met. My eyes scanned over the broad-shouldered man as he tugged off his shoes and snatched at the clothes to find the right button-up shirt. Cypher was drawing to a close, and he was fumbling with the buttons of his shirt despite the shakiness of his fingers. It looked like he was way too hyped up to even look in a straight line, and I saw that he still hadn’t even fixed up his earpiece.

Everyone else is occupied! Shit, why am I forced into this with the one member I haven’t spoken to?

I instantly jumped to my feet when the black-haired man bit his bottom lip in frustration, looking towards his bandmates desperately for help.

Seokjin's eyes blew wide when I swiftly appeared in front of him and gently knocked his hands away from the buttons of his snowy white dress shirt. I averted my eyes away from the view of his exposed chest, because the sight would surely only muddle my mind further. The wafting tendrils of fragranced cologne and body sweat were already doing enough to my insides as it was, and I really didn’t need the added suffering.

“Fix your mic-earpiece thing!” I whispered urgently and snapped the buttons of the shirt into place quicker than he ever could’ve managed. His concentration flew back to the task at hand, and I felt rather than heard his rickety sigh of pure relief. There was only about a handful of seconds remaining before all four of them had to rush out on stage, so I kept a level head and willed any tremors far away from my fingertips. The man towered above me, so my average height had somehow become useful for once. Only when it came to doing up shirt buttons, so it seemed.

Seokjin looped the cord of his earpiece back around to the correct position, making sure to avoid knocking my rapidly moving fingers, and craned his neck from side to side to loosen the muscles there. Sweat gleamed from his hairline down to the flawless skin of his collarbone, and I couldn’t even bring myself to be disgusted by the coating of it on my fingers just from his clothed chest alone. I now knew why changing outfits halfway through a concert was such a brilliant idea.

“Are you (Y/n), by any chance?” his hushed voice suddenly whispered close to my eardrum, and I looked upwards to see him covering his mic with one careful hand. He had leaned in slightly to make sure it was easy to hear, and I gulped at the scorching temperature blooming from his body. My cheeks were definitely serving consequences.

“Well, how did you manage to figure that out?” I smirked in a sorry attempt to push down any unnecessary stammering, finally finishing up with the buttons and leaving him to smooth out any fabric creases. He did so, and I saw his eyes sparkle with triumph as he rolled his shoulders to release the cramps.

“You’d find it weird if I told you why.”

He shook his head with a smile and reached up to wipe at the smattering of salty droplets cascading down his jawline. I raised an eyebrow at the statement, blaming it on the obvious lack of time, and reached behind me to grab a blue bleach-stained towel resting over a chair.

“I’ll question that later, for now you should have a drink,” I murmured and reached up to smooth his bangs away, letting me dab at his sweat covered brow. He looked positively stunned at my forwardness, but then broke into a mischievous grin and spread his feet further apart so he could lower himself enough to stand at eye-level.

“Hey, I’m not even that short,” I grumbled, narrowing my eyes while continuing to wipe at his jaw more forcefully than before. He almost fell over because of the unbalanced stance, and ducked his head away from my violent towelling, covering his mouth with one hand to muffle his laughter.

“You guys better stop messing around, you’re going out in ten seconds Seokjin-ssi.” A hand tapped my shoulder harshly and I whipped my head around to see the coordinator fixating me with a warning glare. She then scoured it over Seokjin before muttering into her headpiece and departing towards the stage manager’s desk.

I puffed out my cheeks and met Jin’s equally terrified expression, my heartbeat hammering at the daunting encounter. Then seeing his offended pout made me purse my lips, and we could both barely contain ourselves from snorting with amusement again. It was so weird how things seemed to get funnier when you really weren’t supposed to laugh.

���Stop, or you’ll get me fired.” I cleared my throat softly, trying to stop my lips from quirking at every single movement or sound he made.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now? I seem to remember a certain somebody attacking me with a towel…”

Before I could even bite back with a witty reply, Jimin hopped over and tugged Seokjin by the loose flowing fabric of his shirt.

“Hyung, we have to go on!”

I heard Seokjin curse under his breath before he adjusted his earpiece and rolled his wide shoulders once more. His exhilarated but nervous demeanour had made a comeback suddenly, and I felt bad for distracting his focus from the actual concert.

“You’ll do great.” I flashed a thumbs up to both boys and received a heartfelt smile from Jimin in return. Seokjin nodded towards me with one corner of his lips tugged up, and I felt my brain start swimming when he winked.

Not usually being one to back down from a challenge, I dared to throw my own wink back. He definitely wasn’t expecting that, and I turned away with a chuckle upon seeing his widened eyes and confronted expression. He’d tried to turn to Jimin and point at me accusingly, but the signal was finally given for the boys to venture out onto the stage and the vocalist instantly fell back into his serious stage front.

I could only watch them go, feeling giddy that I had finally met the famous ‘worldwide’ man and his luckily genuine sense of humour. It was easy to think that everything he portrayed for the fans was just a mere persona, but after finding out that he truly was the dork we all knew and loved, I could rest easy.

Next thing I know, we’ll be battling it out to see who has the best dad jokes.

As the concert finally mellowed out into the bittersweet goodbyes and thankyous, I was tasked with packing away the supplies and loading them into the transport vans behind the venue. The process took longer than usual, as the organisation was still short on helping hands, but the concert itself had definitely been a huge success.

Humid night air filled my nostrils, and I observed the glittering stars above me serenely. I considered how the world was seriously full of countless blessings: friends, family, joyful memories, wealth, education, sleep, laughter, love…and boybands, I guess. The conclusion, which only took seconds to figure out, was that I was just lucky to have experienced them all.

Well, hopefully I would.

"(Y/n)! Wait up!"

I turned and saw a very flustered Jimin running at full pelt towards me. His hard-soled shoes echoed against the concrete of the emptying carpark, and I couldn't help but smile fondly at his excitable expression.

All six of the remaining members appeared from the double glass doors, and I knew I was about to be faced with the combined elation of them all. There was absolutely no feeling like pulling off a successful concert, and today I could even consider myself a part of it.

Maybe...no hopefully, this wouldn't even be the last time.

          Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  

tagged: @l4life​, @joyful-jimin​, @gee-nee​

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Internship Chapter 28: Day 24 - Amity

First Chapter Previous Chapter

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Today, Eda had told Luz to go have fun in the afternoon and not come back until after sunset. When Luz asked why, Eda just said “reasons” and sent her on her way. This made it a perfect day to check out another coven. They had almost visited all of them, with only a couple left.

Amity remembered hearing from Emira about a member of the Oracle Coven that told fortunes. They had a tent in town, where Emira had helped provide illusions during her internship. Emira told her they were probably open most days of the week, so they could visit at any time.

So when Luz asked if Amity was free to hang out, it was the perfect opportunity. At least, after her heart stopped racing it was. They went straight after school, walking across town to the location.

On the way, Luz talked about how things had been going with Lilith around the Owl House. It had taken her a while to get used to seeing her there, since they had been enemies not to long before. But since she settled in she’d started cooking for the whole house, which was much better food than what Eda could make.

Amity hadn’t known that about Lilith; they had only ever discussed magic.

They continued talking until they reached the tent. It was larger than Amity had expected, though not as big as the one where abomination wrestling had been held. The sides were all dark purple, to match the shade that the oracle track used.

A witch stood in front of the door, and smiled as the pair approached. “Welcome!” She spoke warmly, gesturing at the entrance with one hand. “Would you like to have your fortune told?”

“We sure do!” Luz was practically bouncing on her heels in excitement.

“Wonderful!” The witch told them how much a reading would cost, before collecting the coins from both of them. “Who would like to go first?”

Amity had to think about that, but Luz didn’t. “Ooh, I will!” Always eager Luz volunteered. “Can my friend come watch?” She asked, likely thinking about their true goal of learning more about the coven.

“Of course.” The witch lifted the flap on the tent to allow them inside. “Please come in.”

Luz’s eyes were wide as she entered the tent. Amity followed her, immediately making note of the light fog present inside. They seemed to have adopted some illusions to improve the atmosphere.

There was a table in the center of the tent with a crystal ball on it. It had two chairs around it, with one already occupied by a witch. Amity presumed she was a member of the Oracle Coven.

As the coven member beckoned Luz over to sit in the other chair, Amity moved to stand near the edge of the tent, staying outside of Luz’s line of sight as not to distract her. She could see well from the spot she picked, with the coven member and the crystal ball clearly visible.

To begin, the oracle asked Luz a few questions about where she went to school and where she was from. Luz answered enthusiastically, providing way more details than she’d been asked for.

When Luz finished answering, the oracle raised her hands over the crystal ball. She cast a spell circle above it, causing swirling smoke to appear inside. It didn’t look like anything special to Amity, but Luz was staring at it with wide eyes. Amity wondered what she saw within it.

“In your past, I see a loss of place.” The oracle spoke, and Luz’s eyes snapped up to her before moving back down. The oracle was quiet for a minute before speaking again. “In your present, I see strong bonds of friendship.” Luz was staring intently at the crystal ball. Again the oracle waited, before adding, “In your future, I see a difficult decision. One that will change the path of your life.”

“That sounds scary.” Luz commented with a frown. Amity squinted to try and see something besides mist in the crystal ball, but she couldn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be.” The oracle replied. “So long as you listen to your heart.”

Luz lifted one hand to her chest, holding it over her heart. “My heart, okay.” She repeated the words slowly, as if turning them over in her mind.

The oracle moved her hands away from the crystal ball, which allowed the spell to dissipate. “Thank you for visiting, I hope you have a stellar rest of your day.”

Luz stood from the chair. “You too!” She said, and then thanked the oracle for telling her fortune. “My friend Amity is next.” Luz looked around and, upon spotting Amity, waved for her to come over.

The oracle looked between them as Amity approached and sat down in the chair. Luz stepped away to watch from a distance.

As Amity watched the oracle lift her hands back into position, she felt nervous. She wondered what the oracle would say, hoping it wouldn’t be anything embarrassing. Luz was watching, after all. Maybe she would learn something about her future coven, something that would ease her concerns about the future.

The oracle asked the same questions she asked Luz, about Amity’s school and home. Amity gave short answers, with just as much information as necessary.

The oracle thanked her for her response and cast a spell, which started the fog in the crystal ball to swirl once again. From up close, Amity could see that it didn’t move in any particular pattern. No, each section moved erratically, against the others. She hadn’t noticed that before, perhaps because she was farther away.

After a moment, an image appeared in the fog. It showed her room at home, with young Amity and Willow standing inside. Luz must’ve been able to see images in hers, even though it had only looked like smoke to Amity. In the ball she was shouting at Willow, destroying their friendship.

“In your past, I see shattered friendship.” It felt completely different while sitting at the table, compared to watching from a distance. The scene continued to play in the crystal ball for a few moments, before being overtaken by fog.

When the fog cleared, it showed Amity again, older now. She was in the stands of the abomination wrestling match, sitting next to Luz. The two of them were cheering in the image, but Amity looked worried in it. “In your present, I see internal turmoil.”

The fog moved in again, replacing the image to show the future. Amity was in the center, her hair slightly longer than she kept it now. She looked to be taller too, which made sense if it really was the future. She was holding hands with someone, a person who’s back was turned in the image. They had short brown hair, and Amity was certain she could identify them as Luz.

“In your future, I see returned feelings.” Had Amity heard that right? It was almost like she was saying… Immediately Amity’s face grew hot; she was certain that it had turned bright red. She was grateful that Luz would only be able to see fog instead of the picture, or Amity would’ve covered the crystal ball with her arms.

She watched the two girls in the image walk together, hand in hand. As the image faded back into fog, Amity was able to cool her cheeks. She hoped that the future it showed her would come true. The oracle dispelled the spell and lowered her hands from the ball.

Wait, there hadn’t been anything Amity’s coven choice. “Did you see anything about a coven?” Amity asked, pulling her mind away from what she saw in the future to ask.

The oracle shook her head. “Fate has left it in your hands.”

Amity mulled over those words, the cryptic message they contained. “I see.”

When Luz appeared suddenly by her side, Amity remembered the last vision and had to fight to keep her blush from returning. The other teen was leaning over the crystal ball, scrutinizing it once again.

“Oracle magic is so cool.” Luz took out her little paper squares, using a pencil to draw on it. “I think I saw a glyph while watching. Oh, I hope it works!” She finished the glyph and then tapped it, but nothing happened. “Hmm.”

Amity watched as Luz crumpled it up and drew it again, still with no result.

“Try putting it on the crystal ball.” The oracle suggested, gesturing to the mentioned object.

“Good idea.” Luz tore the paper off and placed it on top of the ball. This time when she tapped it, it glowed light purple. A small amount of fog swirled in the crystal ball, just for a moment before fading.

“Yes!” Luz pumped one fist in the air, beaming. Amity couldn’t help but smile too; Luz’s joy was contagious.

“Fascinating.” The oracle had leaned in to examine the effect. “I’ve never seen oracle magic performed like that.”

“I can’t believe it works!” Luz quickly drew the glyph again. She dropped it on the crystal ball, but was stopped by the oracle before she could tap it.

“Think about what you want to see when you activate it. What you are searching for with the spell.”

Luz’s eyebrows scrunched in concentration as she placed the glyph and activated the spell. This time the fog swirled for twice as long, before fading away. Luz’s eyes sparkled as she looked up from it. “So cool.” She whispered.

“We’ve been learning about different covens.” Amity said, drawing the oracle’s attention back to her. “What else do oracle witches do?”

“I provide other services, such as viewing memories and communing with spirits.” The oracle explained. It sounded like an interesting job, though Amity had no experience with oracle magic. She tried it when she was younger, but hadn’t been able to do much more than make the crystal ball light up.

Luz seemed enamored with the job, especially since she’d just learned a new glyph for it. Amity watched as she asked a few more questions, taking jotting down a couple notes on a page of her glyph paper.

It was adorable, the way Luz was so enthusiastic at every coven they visited. She adapted to every new location, every new situation, like she could take on any challenge. Amity admired that in her.

The two teens soon thanked the oracle witch, leaving to walk around for a while. They talked about the few covens they had left.

“It’s just one, right?” Luz had her hand at her chin as she thought.

She was right. “Just the Healing Coven.” Amity confirmed. It felt strange to be almost done; she would miss visiting the covens with Luz.

Soon this adventure would be over and she would have to make a decision, but for now she would enjoy her time spent with Luz.

Next Chapter

[boymeetsweevil]

Heat Index

Grouping: Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 2700 exactly!

Warnings/Themes: use of toys, mutual masturbation?, tae has a sweat kink probably

Summary: The town being in a heat wave puts Tae’s in a bit of a love drought. But even still, he makes do and (kind of) does you.

Another drop of sweat rolls down Taehyung’s face. It makes his nose itch with the gentle grazing sensation and falls on the cardboard flap in his hands. The sweat darkens the area it lands on and he stops for a minute to take in the perfectly circular shape haloed from the way the drop burst on impact. Normally he wouldn’t be so interested in his own sweat, but he feels as though his thoughts are slowed and dulled by cotton. It’s the heat.

“I’m really sorry, Tae,” you apologize as soon as you return from your kitchen, a single plastic-wrapped treat in hand. “They’re not putting in the AC until tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” he says pleasantly while taking the popsicle from you. But it’s not really fine.

The heatwave terrorizing your town has been going on for almost 9 days at this point. He’d volunteered to help you move in, only for the weather to put a halt in your plans. But after the 4th day, you couldn’t put it off any longer and had to go meet the movers at your new place. Taehyung being the chivalrous boyfriend that he was—or that he wanted to be—kept his word despite the warnings from various weather people on his TV telling him not to leave his own air-conditioned apartment.

Though it might seem as though his priorities aren’t in place, Taehyung would honestly admit that the worst part about the heat wave was the lack of sex that came rolling in with it. With your new place being on the other side of the city and with the both of you relying primarily on public transport to see each other, your sex life seemed to be dwindling—no—frying in the sun. So, when you brought up the move yesterday he figured he’d just be helpful with unpacking until the AC installation finished and then suddenly become very helpful with packing you full of him. But that doesn’t seem to be in the cards.

He bites at the popsicle forlornly with his back teeth. You have your own popsicle that’s a subtle pale green. It’s lime. Your favorite. Even if he didn’t know you well enough to know that you loved all things citrus, he’d still know you were enjoying the lime pop. The way you happily slurp around the cylinder while leaning on one of the larger boxes makes for quite the mirage in Taehyung’s sex desert. Your back is arched elegantly so you can peer out the window on the opposite wall and admire the much better view you have in your new space. And your skin looks iridescent with the sheen of sweat the weather has lovingly draped upon you. Then you catch a stray juice trail about to run onto your hand with the flat of your tongue and chase the flavor all the way to the top of the popsicle and Taehyung suddenly needs a plan B fast.

You jump with a shriek when your neck meets something shockingly cold and wet. Turning your head, you see that it’s just your boyfriend running the edge of his snack along the place where sweat was collecting like a pretty dew on your skin. His tongue follows the sticky path he just made, causing your eyes to flutter shut on their own before you fight them back open.

“What are you doing, that’s so...gross,” your breath hitches when he bites down at the intersection of neck and shoulder.

“Nothing.” The popsicle descends again to follow the same trail he made but, this time, you only flinch a little. “Just enjoying my snack.��

“Am I the snack?” You give him an unamused look.

“You’re always a snack, baby.”

“Sorry,” you’re not sorry but still remove his hand from your shorts with some care, “but I draw the line after 80 degrees.”

His hand only retreats a little and ends up sitting on your stomach, laying like a hot coal there. You can feel the arousal twisting your insides and raising your temperature like it does. The only problem is that this time you really can’t afford to get any warmer. You’re sure that you’ve already sweat out all the important things in your body and if you so much as look at Taehyung the wrong way, you’ll become a puddle that’s 20% you and 80% limesicle.

“But it’s been so long.”

The tip of his nose reacquaints itself with the shell of your ear. The heat of his front does the same with your back.

“You won’t die. Back off and help me with these other boxes. There might be a fan in here somewhere.”

The promise of a fan measures up fairly well against the promise of (sweaty) sex and he immediately hunts for the scissors he was using to open more of the boxes. With the blades in hand, he cuts through the tape holding yet another wardrobe box closed with hope as his only means of staying cool. The flaps reveal no spinning blade treasure—only kitchenware that you promptly scoop up and rush out the room with. Taehyung stares dumbly at your fleeing back, slick and bare besides a black sports bra, before cupping himself lightly. It’s just to take the edge off, his thinks to himself.

After the kitchenware layer, the box is rather oddly packed. There’s a bunch of hangers, which he promptly puts into your closet, and some knick knacks he knows you plan on putting on your bookshelves once they have books on them. There’s even some winter clothes that he’s fairly sure should have gone in a different box while you were packing them. Before he can dwell too much on your lack of packing skills, he reaches the bottom of the box, which contains yet another box. It’s a simple shoe box. Which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if you were a shoe fan like some people he knew. However, you aren’t a shoe fan. In fact, all of your other shoes were jammed into the bottom of another box that had been opened earlier. So why do you have this shoebox here?

Going solely off intuition and knowledge about you after nearly a year together, he’s guessing there’s just some random sentimental things inside that you didn’t know where to put. If that’s what’s inside, he knows he shouldn’t peek, but he’s curious to see if anything to do with him is in the box. He pulls the lid up daintily, like the secrets won’t escape if he’s gentle, only to slam it back down as soon as he eyes the contents.

Well, he supposes sex toys could have sentimental value. But they don’t have much to do with him.

He lifts the lid again now that he’s certain nothing in the box can tell on him. With the sounds of you organizing your kitchen as his personal soundtrack, his begins rifling through the box. There’s a few bullets, what he thinks is a dildo but it’s covered in scales and has a few unnatural bends in it, some beads of varying sizes, and a classic hitachi among other things. Some of them he’d seen before, and some he hadn’t. Perhaps some of them kept you company before he started to. After a few thoughtful moments, he grabs one of the toys before replacing the lid and stashing the shoe box.

You’re almost finished sorting through all the different families of silverware you’ve collected over the years, when two hands land on your unclothed waist. The feeling of his palms on your sweaty skin has you squirming a bit.

“On a scale of one to ten, how wet are you,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

“Your romance never ceases to amaze me.”

“Sorry, but...is it really just me?”

His forehead bumps against the back of your head as he takes in the way you look in shorts and a sports bra. It’s an understated look, to say the least, but he’s always loved the way you look with sweat on your skin.

“No,” you groan when he presses an open mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. “But it’s just too hot to be doing cardio for no reason.”

His tongue darts out and flicks at your lobe, sending a quick blitz from your core out to your extremities. A small gush of arousal rushes down and you squeeze your thighs together in a stubborn effort to keep calm.

“What if I told you it’s not too hot?”

“You found the fan?” You turn around in his arms with shining eyes and he feels like an ass for not being able to say yes.

“No,” he grimaces. He attempts to wrap his arms around your waist placatingly, but you brush him off partly in anger and partly because you’re overheated. “But, if there’s no cardio needed, is it really too hot?”

“No cardio?”

You eye him suspiciously but let him drag you by the wrist back into the living room. Clearly he’s emptied out and flattened several other boxes since you took all your mismatched forks to the dining room for sorting. Only a few boxes remain unopened. The question of what he’s planning is still lingering when he pulls you over to a little setup that looks like he wrapped something in a pillowcase

“I don’t get it.”

“You will,” he grins boxy reassurance at you before sitting before the bundle on the ground. You follow suit while he unwraps it to reveal a vibrator you hadn’t used in a long while.

“What’s the joke, again?”

“It’s not a joke,” he whines, “This is how we can be lazy and get off.”

“I never really liked that one. I got it for free in a raffle in college and it was weirdly shaped so I couldn’t really get it to work.”

“Please? I swear I can make this work.”

You’re really tempted to say no. There are several drops of sweat actually rolling down your back as you ponder having an orgasm in your now-90-degree apartment. It seems ill-advised and like more work than Taehyung is marketing, but he also makes a convincing case. The convincing case being him and the fact that he still manages to look nearly edible in the middle of a heat wave.

His hair is flat and darkened against his forehead, heavy and saturated with sweat after brushing it back with his hands. The summer sun has darkened him slightly, making his skin appear more radiant in combination with the layer of his light sweat. The fact that he’s been shirtless and handsy all day only works in his favor. You sigh in defeat.

“Fine.”

His expression brightens considerably and he scrabbles up to rest his weight on his knees and heels to tug off his shorts to reveal the simple black briefs he had on underneath. He returns to a reclined position before snatching up the vibrator. You don’t get much warning and only barely get your own shorts hanging off one leg before he’s switching the toy on and nudging it between your thighs.

“So how did you—Oh!”

He has it angled differently than you did the times that you used it, and you wonder through the vibrations traveling over you if it's actually supposed to be for someone else to use on you. The thought dissipates quickly with the sudden wave of acute pleasure that creeps over you. It’s the type of feeling that has you almost smirking to yourself as you bite your lip, eyelids drooping closed as you hum to yourself. Taehyung lets out a sympathetic moan when you start rocking your hips against the device ever so slightly.

When your underwear is wet enough that he can feel it dampening the tips of his fingers near the toy, he removes it from your center. Your breath catches in your throat in a needy scoff that he ignores in favor of placing the still pulsating toy over his own crotch. There’s a small wet spot darkening the material of his briefs where his swollen head lays tucked up. He’s never really ever used a vibrator, but he figures it can’t be too different an experience. But when he touches it gingerly to the base of his clothed erection, the vibrations knock his breath out his lungs.

“Fuck, oh my...god,” he chokes out. Greedily, his finger twitches to kick the speed up a half unit. The increase has him nearly drooling within seconds and creates a steady dribble of pre-cum. “Shit, that feels good.”

“Share,” you snap at him after about 90 seconds of neglect to you dripping center.

“Make me,” he mumbles before massaging the toy up and down his length, ripping a gasp from his own lips.

You don’t take kindly to Taehyung hogging the vibrator. So you kick off your panties the rest of the way and decide to sit on the toy to get some action where you can. Before that, though, you do him the service of tugging his briefs down until they bunch around his knees. Once you’re settled, you’ve effectively trapped him where you want him. On the floor with the toy nestled between your folds and his shaft.

With your added weight and the return of your subtle hip rocking, the vibrations feel more intense for the both of you. You hiccup above him, hands coming out to brace your weight on his chest. It’s the only point of contact between you besides where your pelvises are slotted together. Naturally sweat begins to pool in the small spaces where you’re both joined, but it’s minimal and you don’t care. Especially not after Taehyung’s clumsy fingers knock the pulses into one of the different pattern modes. The steady buzz between your folds becomes a sudden tangle of tiny bursts. The pleasure hits you in matching percussive beats and you curl over Taehyung helplessly as the first wave of your first orgasm hits.

His eyes are squeezed shut because he’s not accustomed to the intense vibrations, but the sound of your moans let him know that you just came. He’s quick to follow with a few shallow thrusts that have you instinctively tightening your thighs around his hips to maintain your balance. The low, drawn out sound of his groans is accompanied by his large hands coming in to lock at your hips, grinding you down against him, soaking him further with your arousal. His holding you down has you squealing and squirming with oversensitivity at first. But when he doesn’t let go even after he spurts onto his own chest, you feel the familiar curls of pleasure behind the acidic overstimulation. Your nails scratch a fiery trail down his chest, somehow further raising his internal temperature as you both struggle in the silent endurance competition.

Who can last against the toy longer?

With gritted teeth and a river of sweat dripping down from his forehead, Taehyung taps out first. He switches the toy back down to its lowest setting before letting out a bark and squeeze at the flesh of your hip in a silent surrender. Your breathing is harsh and you’re so exhausted that you don’t even bother to use the muscles in your thighs to get off him. Instead, you nudge the toy out from in between you and let it clatter to the floor between Taehyung’s thighs while you recover still in his lap.

“That was fun,” you pant after a few minutes of silence. The sweat cooling in the space between you and Taehyung makes you finally scoot off him and onto the floor.

“I told you it would work. We didn’t even have to move that much.”

“That’s also true.” You watch him use the spare pillow case to wipe off the tacky cum on his stomach. “I never doubted you for a second.”

“You definitely did!”

“I whined about how hot it is. I didn’t say I thought your plan would fail.”

“I guess.” He lays star-fished out in the middle of your sparsely decorated living room before popping his head off the ground. “We really do need to find that fan, though.”

[babieyangyang10]

violent ends (chapter 2)

(chapter 2)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairing: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: language, violent deaths, fighting, angst, fluff, + possible nsfw.

A/N: please keep in mind that events/ideas from the original hunger games franchise have been purposefully altered! thanks.

previous | next

"In the event of the uprising, each of the twelve districts must offer one boy and one girl tribute to participate in the Hunger Games, and must strictly be the ages of 12 through 18. The contestants will be put into an outdoor arena where they must survive all types of danger and fight to the death, or leave it up to nature. The last tribute standing wins. It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." explained the Mayor of my district. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he uses the same speech every year. Even after my seven years of attending reapings, the anticipation for them to actually announce the names never gets easier.

I know I'm not the only one. The girls standing around me either look like they're seconds away from throwing up their last meal or simply about to explode from excitement.

"In the past seventy-three Hunger Games, we have had numerous victors representing the great district two. The victor representing district two, who will now mentor the tributes is here today." The mayor teasingly paused, "He needs no introduction, please give a warm welcome for Lee Taeyong!"

I felt my body go cold, almost as if I were seeing a ghost. There he was, my older brother, standing on the stage. He was adorned in expensive clothes from the Capitol. Standing tall, his striking features could easily be intimidating. However, his expression was relaxed and pleased; taking in the love and admiration from the crowd. Just by looking at him, anyone could tell he was made for this.

They loved him.

"Now, please welcome to the podium, the Capitol representative for our district, Kim Doyoung." The Mayor stepped off to stand beside Taeyong. In his place, stood a man with royal blue hair and an outrageously yellow suit. He smiled brightly, despite receiving piercing silence from the crowd.

  He spoke cheerfully in the microphone, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor! Due to an overwhelming amount of volunteers in the past games, your leaders have collectively decided to choose their tributes, according to who best represents the district as a whole."

He grabs a card from the pockets of his suit. Leaning into the microphone, he explains, "Here, I have the names of your male and female tributes." He pauses, carefully glancing over the text in his hands.

    "Huang Renjun and Lee Athena."

I let out the air held captive in my lungs. The heads in front of me have turned around to observe. Unable to hide amongst the crowd any longer, Taeyong was staring at me. I struggled trying to read his expression, which was blank. I felt my chest sink to the floor, heavily. Shouldn't he be excited for me?

Suddenly, I felt a sharp tug on my arm.

"You might want to start moving. Seriously, you're looking pretty stupid right now. "

I turn to my left to see Renjun frowning at me, who has stepped out of the boy's side and into the middle aisle. Coming to my senses, I follow him as the Peacekeepers escort us to the stage.

"Here we are! Our tributes from district two." Doyoung announces in between Renjun and I.

  I hear a deep, familiar voice from behind me muttering a quiet, "Smile."

   Automatically, I change my shocked expression to a brighter one. Meanwhile, I  scan the cheering crowd's faces; taking in the mixed looks of joy, pity, and even jealousy.

"Well, aren't you two going to shake hands?" inquired Doyoung, stepping backwards.

   Turning to look at Renjun, I see the look of hesitation in his face. Internally grimacing, I offer my trembling hand. He softly sighs before giving a bone-crushing handshake.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor." speaks a gleaming Doyoung to the crowd. I feel Taeyong  place his hand on my back, pushing me towards a set of doors. Once opened by the Peacekeepers, Doyoung, Taeyong, Renjun, and I enter the Justice Building. A Peacekeeper instructs me to wait in a room and closes the door behind me.

It’s relieving and oddly comforting to finally be alone. My chest no longer feels the heavy fluttering it did before. However, I can’t decide if I’m still shaking from the adrenaline or perhaps nerves. By the time the door reopens, I have gathered my thoughts. My mother and father appear in front of me. My father has a stoic and firm expression on his face, while my mother is energetically clinging to his arm.

“You have three minutes.” announces the Peacekeeper, before closing the door. My mom engulfs me in an gigantic hug. I awkwardly freeze, not really accustomed to displays of affection. However, she pays to mind to this and cheerily states, “I’m so excited for you. I know you are going to do great!”

My father grabs my shoulders and sternly councils me, “Listen to everything Taeyong tells you. Be smart and remember everything you’ve learned until this point. Don’t let your guard down, no matter how much you think you can trust someone. At the end of the day, you can only trust your own judgement.”

I nodded, my heart glowing with pride. I finally achieved the reward I’ve been working for this whole time. Getting to see the surprise in their eyes, knowing they never saw my masked potential. How did the black sheep of our family manage to pull off this?

“Time.” announces the Peacekeeper. My mom pulls me in for another hug. After she releases me, my father shockingly gives me a subtle nod before leaving with my mother.

After a short and silent car ride, accompanied by Doyoung and Renjun. We were ushered into a train, avoiding a swarm of eager reporters. At the main cart, Doyoung is sitting across from Renjun and I. The small table contains various foods and deserts intended for our pleasure.

Doyoung attempts to break the awkward silence, “We’re currently going 200 miles and you barely even feel a thing. I think that’s just one of the good things about this opport-“

“Where is Taeyong?” I interrupted, not really listening.

Doyoung let’s out a puff of air before standing up, “I think he’s in one of the other carts. I’ll go find him.” Once he leaves, Renjun harshly states, “Thank God, that man talks too much.”

I let out a hum of agreement, taking a sip from my teacup.

He starts, “I must say, you really surprised me. With your low scores, I really thought there was no way you’d be picked. Then, I told myself, the only reason is because of that brother of hers.”

I grabbed a knife from the table and shoved him down onto the couch. My legs were wrapped around his waist, hands pressing the knife into his throat. His eyes were wide, while his lips were slightly parted in shock.

“You really can’t go five seconds without talking the same old shit, huh? Didn’t even see this coming, you dumb little fuck.” I taunt him.

“You look pretty good on top of me like this.” He says, lips curling up into an evil smile. Before I could respond, I hear the sound of voices and look up. Renjun takes this opportunity to shove me off him, onto the floor. I quickly push myself up onto my hands and knees. Then, Doyoung and Taeyong came barging in through the door.

“Is everything okay? I heard some noises!” asked a frantic Doyoung.

Renjun answers innocently with, “We’re fine. She just dropped her knife on the floor.” I returned the knife to the table and went to my spot on the couch. As Taeyong and Doyoung sit down on the other side of the table, I subtly send an evil glare towards Renjun.

Taeyong glances over the two of us, “You two know almost everything there is about weapons and survival. There really is nothing I can teach you that you don’t already know. However, one of the things the two of you are going to have to focus on is making people love you. Keep in mind, you are going to be on a reality television show. People will watch and provide whatever you need, as long as you are of interest to them. If you want to get technical, the more you boost the ratings, the higher the probability is that you are to be kept around. You do this by playing a character. Rather it be a villain or a hero, it’s your choice. For example, you could be the pure and innocent type or an object of desire for the opposite sex. I hope you really take your time to decide what fits you best.”

“Taeyong, have you heard anything about the other tributes? Anything we should concern ourselves with?” I curiously asked.

He nodded his head, “District 1 has Lee Jeno and Lee Donghyuck. Both also trained since they were kids. Top of their schools in everything. Also, District 4 has Na Jaemin. Like his mentor, Finnick Odair, he specializes in spearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up playing the same womanizer-character as him as well. Be careful, any of them could really be either the greatest threat to your game or the reason you end up winning the whole thing.”

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Let It Snow (Steve x reader) part two

In which (Y/N)’s cousin, Bucky, comes home for the holidays with a friend along and decided to stay for Christmas Eve when a heavy snow storm hits home.

Contains: more fluff, small smut (like teasing), clingy sister, more cousin!Bucky

Note: Here’s part two! Omg I never thought I’d post this so quickly, I just got so happy with the reviews from part one that I finished part two instantly 😂 so, here it is!

For those who haven’t read part one, here it is!

...

“(Y/N)...” Steve trailed off, a smile on his lips as he looked away from you and tried to find the words to say after you told him you were proud of him. You could clearly see he was suddenly flustered and you never thought you could make someone like him all sheepish and bothered like that. But you weren’t complaining either.

He somehow gave up in talking and looked up to you again, your heart never failing to flutter whenever his eyes would meet yours. You were trying so hard not to get all flustered yourself. Just when he was about to speak up another voice spoke and you couldn’t have asked for a worse timing.

“Steve!” It was Christina. “Is my sister really letting you wash the dishes?? Shame on you (Y/N), he’s a guest!”

Steve’s smile slowly faltered as he faced Christina. “It’s fine, really. I volunteered to help her.”

Christina shook her head. And a little more softly, she said, “No, Steve, (Y/N) can take care of it. You should be in the living room with us!”

Before Steve could protest you beat him to it. “Steve, just go.”

“(Y/N)—“

“They’re just dishes, Steve, don’t worry about it.” You forced out a chuckle to convince Steve you were going to be fine. Although you really enjoyed his company, and you felt something in the air between the both of you, you didn’t want the rest of your family telling you off for letting a guest do the dishes. Christina’s scolding was enough for you.

When Steve didn’t move an inch and instead continued to stare at you with a worried look, you shooed him off with your hands half-heartedly. “Now shoo, both of you. Christina’s been wanting to talk to you anyway.”

Christina snapped her head at you and gave you a look that completely said shut up or I’ll kill you and all you could do was snicker. When Steve turned to face your sister her annoyed look completely fell and gave him her award-winning, innocent smile that most guys her age always fell for. Your sister was, indeed, gorgeous and you were afraid to admit that she finally got Steve’s attention.

“Now, come on, I heard you like pudding.” Christina’s voice began to fade away as she dragged Steve back to the living room.

You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief. Your sister was insistent. Poor Steve.

“What was that all about?” Another voice piped in just when you thought you were all alone again. It was Bucky.

“Typical Christina.” You shrugged, rinsing off the last few dishes before joining Bucky who was leaning against the counter. “What brings you here?”

“I was eavesdropping.”

“What?”

He said it so simply that you weren’t sure if he was being serious or just joking.

“Stevie kinda likes you,” he pointed out and you almost choked.

“What are you talking about?” You asked in disbelief. “We were just talking. How—“

And then it hit you. Bucky was literally eavesdropping already when Steve first came in the kitchen to help you. You honestly thought he came by when Christina took Steve away.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Bucky only laughed. “I know Steve too well, (Y/N). He’s usually so reserved and shy and I’ve never heard him talk that much to someone he barely knew before. And—and, you got him all flustered! Yeah I get he’s a soft and sweet guy but you don’t often see a hot and bothered Steve.”

Now he was being ridiculous, you thought. “Hot and bothered?? Buck, we were literally just talking!”

“But you’re not even a little bit attracted?? Don’t you find him hot or cute or somethin’?” He pushed, his whole body now facing you with so much concentration on his face you were almost convinced he wasn’t kidding around.

He is kidding around, isn’t he?

“I, uh...well,” fuck, how could you even put it to words? He was the most handsome and downright hottest man you’ve met in your entire existence! Who isn’t even attracted to this man?? “Yeah, Buck. I think he’s really cute.”

He suddenly grinned. “Perfect.”

“Wait, I’m gonna have to stop you right there. If you’re even thinking of setting me up with him you must have forgotten you promised my sister that you introduce Steve to her. Not to me.” You pointed out, crossing your arms across your chest as you faced him as well. His face made a look of realization as he groaned out.

“Christina’s hot and she’s definitely beautiful, there’s no denying that. But I don’t think she’s Steve’s type.” He said in a quieter tone.

You frowned. “Why not?”

“Oh you know your sister, sometimes she can get too wild. No offense, but I think she’s too loud and straightforward for Steve. Steve’s more of the quiet and lowkey type.” He replied, shrugging as he went back to leaning against the counter, facing the open door that led to the living room.

“Oh, so you think I’m quiet and lowkey?” You scoffed half-heartedly. “I know how to live too, you know.”

“(Y/N), you know what I mean. Compared to your sister, you’re way more soft and benevolent. And from what Steve goes through everyday when being in the army, he could use someone like you to keep him cool and collected.” Bucky explained. And somehow, he was right about you. You were more reserved and preferred staying in your room than go partying. You were never the loud one; the kind of person who tells jokes or is the life of a party. You were more tranquil.

And you liked it that way.

“And I’m not doing this just because of your personality. Steve seemed so comfortable being with you earlier and to see him talk to someone else who isn’t me or Sam means it’s progress or that he likes you.” He added with a fond smile.

Before you could reply he took your arm and dragged you out the kitchen and towards the living room. “Now, come on. Let’s make this work. I want Steve to be happy again.”

“Buck, I’m kinda lost here...” you trailed off with a frown as you let yourself get dragged to the other room by your cousin. And you were indeed slightly confused with Bucky’s words. ‘It’s progress’, ‘want Steve to be happy again’, what did that all mean exactly?

You entered the room with Bucky and you quickly spotted Steve and Christina talking at the far end of your living room, slightly away from your family who were chatting with drinks in hand and your cousins talking and laughing in a small circle of their own. But it seemed like Christina was the only one who was doing most of the talking. Steve was looking anywhere but at her, looking like he wanted to get out of the conversation.

“Come on, let’s join the two.” Bucky said as he let go of your arm and you both walked towards Steve and your sister side by side. When you were near Steve noticed you and he somehow looked relieved.

“Hey, do you mind if we join?” Bucky piped in as he stood next to Christina and draped an arm around her. “What were you guys talking about?”

“I was telling Steve about this one time I chased off a robber who tried to steal my best friend’s purse...” and as she droned on about her epic story that she told you for the nth time that you probably knew every word by now, you stole a glance at Steve and you were surprised to see that he was already staring at you with a shy smile on his lips.

“She’s trying to impress you.” You told Steve quietly, making sure Christina doesn’t hear you.

He chuckled. “It’s a heroic story, I must say.”

“Ugh, I’ve heard that story countless of times already.” And it was true. It happened a year ago when Christina and her best friend was walking to their favorite café when a man in a black coat and black cap grabbed her best friend’s purse then started running away with it. Christina, of course, was there to save the day by sprinting just as fast as the robber until she was a few steps away from him before she jumped on him. Their little confrontation caught a policeman’s attention who just so happened to be standing close by.

“Would you like something to drink?” Steve suddenly asked, snapping you back to reality and you were slightly caught off-guard by his question.

“Oh, uh...sure.” You nodded over to your uncles who were drinking beer and his eyes followed to where you were staring at. “You want beer?”

“Yeah, beer’s good.” He nodded. You began walking back to the kitchen where your dad had a stash of beers kept in your fridge as Steve followed you close behind. He was probably looking for an excuse to leave his conversation with Christina.

Luckily the beanbags in front of the fireplace weren’t occupied so you and Steve sat there, drinking your beer while keeping warm by the fire. You couldn’t help but be happy that you’re with Steve again.

“So,” you began, licking your lips after taking two sips of your beer. “Where are you going home?”

“Boston.” He replied. “It’s a few hours from here.”

“So I’m guessing you’ll be leaving early in the morning?” You asked, slightly disappointed that your time with Steve was slowly running out. You admit that you’re already attracted to him and you didn’t know when you both will meet again, which made it even worse.

“Yeah, I guess. My mom is expecting me to come home tomorrow night for Christmas Eve. It’s been a few years since I’ve spent the holidays with them.” He replied and you could see the longing in his eyes when he said it.

“Well, not to worry.” You told him with a grin. “In a couple more hours you’ll finally be with them again and just in time for Christmas Eve.”

He grinned back at you. God, he was adorable!

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. “But I don’t want to leave just yet.”

“What? Why?”

He took a long sip of his beer before looking at you with a quick wink. It was subtle, but you were damn sure you caught it. “I still wanna spend more time with you.”

You could feel your cheeks and neck and whole face heat up as you looked away and tried to hide the goofy grin on your lips. Was this man flirting with you??

“Hey, no worries. We still have the rest of the night to ourselves.” You told him, your voice slightly quivering but he didn’t seem to notice.

And you both did just that. The two of you spent the whole hours of the evening just talking and getting to know each other while finishing off a couple of beers in front of the fireplace. You didn’t know how long you sat there with him but when you looked around after finishing your fourth bottle, everyone was gone. It was only you and Steve left. And he seemed to notice this, as well.

“Oh fuck, how long have we been here??” He asked incredulously, laughing a little.

“A couple of hours...?” You asked, staring at the grandfather clock that stood near you, and you were surprised to see that it was already midnight.

“Steve, we’ve been here for five hours!” You exclaimed. You were already slightly tipsy and Steve as well. His face was already flushed and he wouldn’t stop smiling.

“Well, I think it’s time to retreat to our rooms.” His words were slightly slurred. You both stood up from your beanbags, and you watched as Steve held his hands up and took one long stretch that made his shirt raise a little that showed off his skin. Goodness, his v-line.

He cleared his throat and your eyes quickly went up to him, feeling yourself heat up when you saw the smirk on his lips. You’ve been caught checking him out and the fucker knows it.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” You quickly said, turning around and before you could walk any further Steve got a hold of your arm and pulled you back to him.

His pull was hard and sudden that you slightly stumbled backwards until you felt his body against your back. You were too shocked to even move. You felt his hands on your shoulders before he turned you around and you were facing him. He had a small and more sober smile on his lips.

“I didn’t get my hug yet.” He said and you cock your head slightly to the side, smiling.

“Hug? What for?”

He then engulfed you in a tight yet surprisingly warm hug, his strong arms wrapping around your smaller frame and his chin resting on top your head.

“It’s a thank you hug. And an I’ll miss you hug.” He replied, not letting you go. You couldn’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.

“I’ll miss you too, Steve. I hope to see you soon.” And you let your arms wrap around him as well.

“I really wanna see you again, you know? I just love hanging around with you and one night is not enough for me.” He said, letting go of the hug as he gave you a sad look.

“I can never get enough of you.” You confessed. And fuck, because that was not supposed to leave your mouth!

You looked up at him with wide eyes and all he did was chuckle.

“You’re cute, (Y/N). I can never get enough of you, either.”

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that kind of reply. But then again, who’s complaining!

“Come on, hot stuff. You’re drunk and you need sleep.” You said as you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the warmth of your cheeks.

“Hot stuff, eh? You think I’m hot?” Steve asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you shoved him to which he didn’t move one bit. Damn that strong soldier build.

“Shut up.” You shoved him again before you began your way up to his shared room with Bucky as Steve followed you close behind.

“Come on, admit it! You clearly said it yourself!”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.”

“No, I didn’t Steve.”

“Yes, you did (Y/N).”

“Steve, I—“ you were cut off when you suddenly felt yourself being pushed back against a wall and your heart hammered against your chest when Steve’s face inched closer to yours. His hands rested against both sides of your face, trapping you with his body close to yours.

“So you didn’t call me hot stuff? This doesn’t turn you on at all? You don’t find this hot?” He whispered, his storm blue eyes turning darker as you continued to stare up at him.

“S-Steve...” you whispered.

“Because trust me, I can get you all hot and bothered before you could even say yes please.” He said in a husky tone as he neared his lips to your ear.

“You turn me on, (Y/N). Your innocence drives me mad.” He growled out.

You closed your eyes and you let out an involuntary whimper. You couldn’t even believe this was happening!

“Steve, you’re drunk.” You whispered.

“Drunk or sober, you’d still drive me mad, (Y/N).” He replied. “I want you.”

He let his forehead rest against yours and the contact made you shiver. “But I’m gonna wait until you’ll want me just as much. I’m gonna make you want me just as much.”

You were silent. You were speechless. You didn’t know what to do. You were frozen in your place even when he let you go already.

“I’ll see you again soon, (Y/N). I have to.”

................... ................... ................... ................... .......

Part three!

[tenorcotton43]

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[shadowthrone-ammanas]

Ghost Kid Chapter Nine: Secret

“Snatcher!”

Snatcher almost jumped before lowering his book to see that Hat Kid had snuck up on him again. But she didn’t disturb him nearly as often as she had when alive though so he wasn’t too bothered. “You need something?”

“I finished the book you gave me.” She held towards him as she floated closer to hover on the footstool next to his chair. “I need a new one.”

Snatcher put his own book down on the table so he could reach over to take the book from her. He flipped through it to make sure she hadn’t damaged it. That was the deal they’d made; he’d keep lending her books as long as she didn’t damage any of them. Just like the last two, this one was in the same exact condition it had been in when he’d lent it to her so… “What kind of book do you want this time?” he asked as he magicked the book away.

“Uh… I’m liking the fairy tales but what other kinds of books do you have?”

“I’ve been collecting books for almost three-hundred years kid, so I think it’s safe to say I have every kind of book imaginable.” And he was very proud of his collection even if he rarely ever got to mention it. “So just give me genre, I don’t have time to waste helping you pick out something to read. Or if you prefer non-fiction, I got those too, my collection of law books is particularly impressive.”

“Three hundred years is a long time so that must be a lot of books. Where do you keep them all? You have access to a pocket dimension, right? I’m pretty sure you do because what else could it be? But I suppose I could be wrong, I don’t know the specifics of the magic on this planet. But anyway, my point is those can get pretty unstable and fall apart if they have too many things in them so you might want to be careful.”

Snatcher almost asked her what she, a kid, would know about pocket dimensions but she’d already proven herself to be far from a normal child. It was probably something she’d learned about in the same place that taught her how to fly and repair a spaceship at her age. There was something a bit fishy going on there, it was none of his business.

“Yeah, I know,” He said instead as if he hadn’t found that out the hard way shortly after he’d gained enough power to make a pocket dimension. Thankfully he’d never kept his precious books in it. “That’s why I have a personal library. No one knows where it is and no one other than me can get in and out of it so don’t even try to find it kid.”

Hat Kid gasped and smiled wide – not something she did often since her death. “A secret library! That’s sounds exciting. Can you take me to it? You don’t have to tell me where it is or anything and I won’t tell anyone it exists or what it looks like or any of that stuff. But I want to see, please.”

If it were anyone else, Snatcher would’ve said ‘no’ immediately, probably would’ve made it bite too. But… she was so excited about it and… he felt sorry for her so he couldn’t bring himself to crush that excitement. Didn’t mean he was growing soft or actually liked seeing her happy though, he just… sympathized with the hardships of being new to existing as a ghost. And she was a child too, making it that much harder on her. So…

“All right fine,” he said with a long-suffering sigh as he straightened form his chair. “But only because it’s been a while since I last checked on the minions I assigned to maintaining it. I have to cull them every once in a while to weed out the trouble makers and make sure the rest keep doing a good job.” Not true, none of the Subconites ever caused problems – or the very few times they did, it was never major and never in rebellion against him in any way – but she didn’t need to know that.

The look she gave him as he transported them through his pocket dimension suggested she suspected that truth – ugh – but he ignored it. And thankfully she was quickly distracted as they appeared in the library.

The whole place was his most prized possession. He’d made everything big enough to suit his preferred size. The books, the shelves, the lanes between the shelves; all larger than normal and fit just for him. Even the magic candles, the only light in the library, were placed far apart because he didn’t need much light to see well. Overall it was a place meant for him and him alone… and yet he’d brought Hat Kid because he didn’t want to crush her excitement about his secret library.

“This is so cool,” she said, craning her neck up and looking all around, amazement write upon her ghostly features. “The books and the shelves are huge.”

“Are you really surprised?” Snatcher asked. “You’ve interrupted me while reading how many times now? You should know by now that I make my books big.”

“Yes, but I never thought you kept them big all the time. I kind of assumed you just put them back to their normal size when you were done with them.”

He’d done that for a while until he’d made the library. It would maybe be more efficient to continue doing so to save space in the library but… he didn’t want to. This was his space; it was going to be the way he wanted it to be even if it wasn’t completely practical and he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him.

“But uh, Hat Kid continued, “can I go exploring? This place is real neat! It’s got a haunted library aesthetic which… I guess it is, huh? I like it.”

Snatcher was again faced with not wanting to crush her excitement but he had to draw a line somewhere. This was his place, she was the first person ever to be down here other than the Subconite librarians, so there was no way he going to let her wonder off unsupervised. So… “You’re not leaving my sight while we’re here,” he said. “I don’t trust you not to make a mess or damage something.”

She pouted. “That’s not fair, you know I’m more responsible than that.” True, but he wasn’t going to budge on this, she had to at least know that about him, right? “But fine, whatever. I can explore with you hovering over my shoulder. I don’t mind, it’ll give me someone to talk to.”

“We’re not staying long enough for you to explore.  I’m going to check on my minions, you’re going to pick out a book, and then we’re leaving.”

“Ah but…”

“No ‘but’s,” Snatcher interrupted. “I only brought you down here so you wouldn’t complain and bother me about it for who even knows how long. So take what you can get and be happy.”

She gave him another sad face but otherwise didn’t protest. “Okay.”

***

The Subconites who ran the library were different than the ones Hat Kid was used to. They had similar hoods, cloaks and glowing faces but they were twice as tall and had an extra pair of arms. Presumably the added height and limbs helped them maintain the library somehow, probably having something to do with the sheer size of the books they were working with. She wanted to know more but it was probably rude to ask so she refrained for now.

They all seemed to live in a little alcove off the library. Starting with a room that looked a bit like a receptionist’s room despite the fact that that shouldn’t be needed in a private library. Maybe, this was where Snatcher sent his books when he was done with them, letting the Subconites put them back into the exact right spot. It didn’t matter though, while Snatcher was busy chatting with a group of Subconites about something, Hat Kid could sneak off to go explore.

The hallway leading away from the library and presumably to the Subconites’ ‘living’ area was alluring. She wanted to know if they cohabited differently than the Subconites in Subcon Village or anything else that might different or special about them. The doorway leading back to the library was far more enticing though because it was a special secret library. It had to contain answers to many mysteries. So she tiptoed over towards it. Before she reached it though…

“The Boss has never brought anyone down here before.”

Hat Kid jumped as she turned back to see one of the librarian Subconites had approached her. They even sounded just like the ones she was familiar with.

“You must be something special,” he continued. “What’s your name?”

“Well, people here call me Hat Kid so you can too. But… has Snatcher really never brought anyone down here before?”

“Nope, never has. So you must really mean a lot to him. It’s nice to see him start to open up to other people again more.”

Hat Kid knew Snatcher cared more than he let on but knowing bringing her here meant he care a lot was a nice thought. Because… it was just nice that someone cared. She’d felt so alone since dying. … Heck, she’d been lonely for a long time, it’s part of why she’d decided to stick around and do Snatcher’s Death Wish contracts instead of heading home. It had just been so much worse since her death.

“It’s also nice to see a new face,” the Subconite continued, oblivious to how special his words had made her feel. “We never really leave the library so we never get to meet anyone new.”

“Hmm… so are the Subconites down here special in some way? Or did you just volunteer for this job?”

“We volunteered. Though some of us know things that the Boss doesn’t want people knowing. And some of that stuff may be common knowledge down here now and that’s why we’re not allowed to leave.”

More secrets! “What kind of stuff? I want to know too! He’s my BFF and he trusts me enough to bring me down here so it’s totally okay if you tell me.” Probably not true but who cared? She wanted to know. Before the Subconite could answer though…

“Don’t tell her anything unless you want to lose your head.”

Hat Kid jumped and turned around to see Snatcher was suddenly behind her. Damn it, why’d he have to come and ruin it? She’d been about to learn secrets. It was no fair.

“This is Hat Kid,” he continued, speaking to the Subconite, “dying has unfortunately done nothing to make her any less of a nosy brat. So don’t tell her anything she doesn’t need to know. That’s a direct order, disobeying will be a breach of your contract.”

“I wasn’t going to,” the Subconite said.

Hat Kid frowned at him and then at Snatcher “But I want to know.”

“Too bad kid,” Snatcher said. “And if you ask anything like that again, we’re leaving and I’m never bringing you back. It’s none of your business.”

She sighed, exaggerating it to make sure he knew how disappointed she was. “Yeah, I know.” As much as she wanted to know it was likely sensitive information. Like stuff about his past perhaps; painful to dredge up which is why he wouldn’t want it to be. It was still no fair to be teased with it though, especially since the Subconite hadn’t even been planning to tell her anything. “Sorry. Can we go look around the library a little bit now please? I still need to pick out a new book and I want to see more of this place, it’s cool.”

He glared his disapproval at her for a second or two longer before letting out his own sigh. “Fine, only for a little while. I have stuff I need to get back to in the forest.”

 -

‘A little while’ turned out to be more than an hour. Hat Kid wondered through the library, looking at all the various books, determined to have as much time as he would give her. She asked him about some of the more interesting titles, testing to see if he really had read them all. Seems like he had, impressive.

She eventually settled on a book though, shortly after he expressed impatience for the third time – she didn’t want to push it too far. It was a history book about Subcon.

“You’re not going to find anything about me in that.” Snatcher said with a frown. “It was published while I was still alive so naturally my tale’s not in it.”

“Oh, really?” Hat Kid actually found that idea exciting in its own way. She’d get to find out what the forest was like before Vanessa destroyed it with her ice magic and Snatcher took it back from her and spread his own ghostly influence over it “That sounds neat.”

“It’s more boring than ‘neat’ but whatever, I’m not judging, I sometimes read law books for fun.” He snapped his fingers and the book shrunk down to normal size as he handed it to her. “But now that that’s done…”

He snapped again and the world around them shifted to purple before going back and… they were back in the big reading hollow they’d started in. Hat Kid missed the library already, it had been nice. Hopefully she’d get to go back one day and explore a little more.

Previous / Next

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 12

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | Crossposted to AO3

Theron glared at the bright sign over the bar as another minute on the display’s minuscule chronometer ticked by without any sign of his asset. He checked the urge to let out an annoyed breath, and instead swirled around the contents of his glass to occupy his waiting time. The off brand whiskey from Soccoro was considerably cheaper than Whyren’s Reserve, but it still had the woody notes he enjoyed in the beverage. 

The bartenders here on Carrick Station tended to water down drinks more than usual, although whether that was a request from Republic Command, or just a way to extend profits he didn’t know. However, it was still alcoholic, and right now that’s what mattered. Besides, a watered down drink suited him just fine at the moment. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be here, and he needed to keep up appearances on the off chance anyone was watching.

The likelihood of that was low considering he’d been careful to keep his suspicions of Darok to himself — unlike some people he could maintain a low profile. Not that Theron wouldn’t have relished the chance to openly glare at the bastard, but sometimes it was better to be subtle. Especially when it came to tailing and observing targets. He wasn’t sure what role Darok had played in the invasion of Tython, but he’d find that out soon enough.

Thoughts of the Jedi Temple in ruins inevitably led his mind astray, and he tried to flick the mental query about the status of the Grand Master to the back of his mind for what had to be the fifth time. He was pretty sure there would have been mention from his Knight Errant if she had seen any sign of Satele during the battle to retake the temple. If her reaction to the family resemblance was anything to judge by (not to mention the amount of times their names cropped up together in the dossier), they had to be at least familiar with each other. Or at least more so than the average Jedi was to the Grand Master. After all, her first reaction on seeing him was to latch onto the family resemblance. 

Satele could take care of herself, Theron knew that. If she wasn’t on Tython at the time, then she was likely engaged in some important business elsewhere. It was inevitable that she would be briefed on what had happened at the temple and likely already be on her way back home. It didn’t make much sense to call in a professional sense, and he definitely wasn’t going to just ring her up to say hello.

He took another, very shallow sip of his whiskey and glanced at the chronometer again. Perhaps he’d been too subtle in his invitation to Highwind, and she hadn’t realized his comment about the drink was an excuse to talk to her away from Darok. She seemed fairly sharp, even for a Jedi. Hopefully she hadn’t decided to keep trying to press Darok on her painfully obvious suspicions. Theron frowned into his glass, wondering how he kept getting pulled into jobs with Jedi.

It certainly wasn’t the will of the Force. If the damn thing had ever given him any sort of favor he would have been on Korriban and Tython right alongside the little blonde with a lightsaber of his own, rather than stuck being the voice in her ear. His efforts may have been crucial to the overall success of the mission, but being cooped up in a room while someone else did the heavy lifting wasn’t his style.

While he preferred sneaking into the back door to kicking down the front, either of those options would at least have him in the middle of the action. It would have given him first-hand information on what had gone down at both locations, rather than him having to interpret the conversations Highwind’s earpiece had picked up.

Information was key. And honestly, it was of utmost importance to the ongoing war efforts to know the status and whereabouts of the members of the Jedi Council, especially the Grand Master. And damn it, if something had happened to her, someone was going to have to tell Jace. Not that the two were an item anymore, but still. That wasn’t the sort of thing you just heard in a report. 

Not that Theron was volunteering for that thankless task. 

And since he had no idea whether the Hero of Tython was going to grace him with her presence, he could at least kill some time and answer that stupid question nagging at him. Without another thought about it, he pulled out his holo and keyed in Satele’s private frequency. She had given it to him after the Duros mission, for whatever reason he still couldn’t figure out. He’d committed it to memory immediately and destroyed the physical copy, as a direct line to the head of the Jedi Order was information that needed to be carefully controlled.

Almost immediately the other end picked up, and the fuzzy blue image of the Grand Master sprang up from the small device. He felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease a little at seeing her face frowning in confusion, even if the quality of the call obscured the finer details of her expression. Judging from the flickering image, she was quite a distance away.

“Theron,” she said in greeting, her tone measured and careful, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting a call.”

Maybe he should have led with something else, but apparently the small amount of whiskey had removed at least one brain-to-mouth filter. “I’m guessing you weren’t at the temple.”

“No,” she said, “I’m acting as an emissary to the Drayvos League.”

“Have you heard?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes briefly. Even over the call it was obviously she was trying to gather a measure of calm. “I felt Master Traless’s passing through the Force, and the rest… I felt them too.”

He probably should have passed along something along the lines of condolences, but those words stuck in his throat. He washed that away with another sip of whiskey, trying to control his expression as the woman on the other end of the holocall seemed to collect herself.

“We got it back,” he managed to get out tersely. “I’m sorry it wasn’t soon enough.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I’m sure you all did the best you could.”

Maybe it was just that small glimpse of vulnerability that she let slip through, but his ironclad desire to maintain professional distance slipped away, and suddenly he wasn’t just another SIS agent confirming the security of high ranking Republic personnel. For a moment, they were almost something resembling mother and son. Maybe not like a normal family, but still close enough that he wanted… he didn’t know. To offer reassurance? Let her know he was going to find the truth? To ask for her help? No. That was crazy. Not only had the Council not been informed of the Korriban op beforehand (that would be a fun call for Jace to have), but this wasn’t a secure line. There would be too much for him to explain. And honestly, would she even believe his crazed conspiracy theories?

No. Of course she wouldn’t.

And even if she did, there were too many potential ears listening in around them. Before talking about anything classified he’d have to determine who around him was actually drunk and who was listening. What she needed from him was the actual truth on what had happened today. What she deserved was the real reason that her home had been ransacked, and why her people had been killed.

“I just thought you should know,” he finally said.

It was almost too hard to tell over the weak connection of the call, but he thought he saw the normally composed expression soften just a faction. It was probably his imagination. “I’m glad you called.”

“Right,” he said awkwardly. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “My mind is a little more at ease now.”

Her attention was pulled away as two officers walked into view of the call. He saw her eyes flick over her shoulder, possibly sensing their approach. Without saying anything to him she turned to address them. Something about the way the two held themselves, glancing at the private communication their commander was viewing struck Theron as odd, and he tried to suppress a frown.

Satele glanced back at him, already reaching for the disconnect button. “I’m sorry, Agent, but something has come up. Besides, it appears that you have company.”

He didn’t break from his position, but flicked his eyes over towards the bar to see one blonde Jedi Master approaching him, obvious curiosity on her face. He gave Satele a curt nod of acknowledgement, and she ended the call before anything else could be said.

“That was Grand Master Satele, wasn’t it?” Highwind asked as she approached.

He gave her a small measure of his usual annoyance for someone so casually broadcasting that sort of thing, which apparently was a little too subtle for the Jedi to catch as she just kept staring at the space where the Grand Master’s image had been a few moments before. Like spies, a lot of Jedi were fairly guarded when it came to their inner-thoughts. This one apparently was a bit of an exception, because Highwind was fairly obviously broadcasting concern.

“Yeah, that was her,” he said. “She wasn’t anywhere near Tython.”

“Theron, I’m sorry,” her voice dropped, the note of contrition contained within entirely baffling, “I should have let you know that I didn’t find any evidence of her while I was there.”

“You had other things on your mind,” he said, trying to impart a note of finality into his voice. “Like not dying on the other end of a lightsaber.”

“Still, she’s your—“

“We’re not that close,” he interrupted, and straightened up in his chair so he could catch her eye. “Your Order’s pretty particular about that point.”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” she said quietly. “If I have, I apologize.”

“Forget it,” he muttered, “it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t have your particular talent as it turns out.”

She gazed at him curiously, cocking her heading to the side as if trying to slot in a new piece she had just found to a puzzle she had been working on. It made him feel itchy and uncomfortable, and he immediately looked into the depths of his glass of whiskey. He swirled the liquid around, watching as the sugars of the alcohol clung to the sides and slowly worked their way down the side of the glass.

“I’m going to guess she gave—“

“I’ve got a tab open at the bar,” he interrupted the query before she could even finish, “go order something.”

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

“Get a drink,” he said insistently. “Before you start getting any looks standing there looking like a Jedi.”

“I am a Jedi,” she reminded him.

He motioned to the bar. “So go get a refreshment. I assume your lot is still allowed to do that aren’t they?”

“Yes,” she said tersely.

“Then help yourself. I’m not going anywhere.”

She frowned ever so slightly at the dismissal, before turning on her heel and approaching the bar. He watched her surreptitiously, pretending he was more interested in the glass in his hand. Whatever she was saying seemed to confuse the server for a few moments, before he apparently took in her attire completely. The dramatic eye roll was obvious even from this far away, and he had to go into the back before he returned with a tall mug of a steaming beverage, and handed it over

She walked back, shoulders back, and mug tightly gripped between both of her hands to keep any of the liquid from spilling. He expected to see the strings of some sort of tea bag over the side of the mug, but as she took the chair opposite to him, he could just make out the telltale aroma and dark brown color of caf.

Interesting choice.

“I have a drink,” she said with finality.

“That’s caffa,” he said blandly. “That’s not a drink. There’s no alcohol in it.”

“It’s liquid and you drink it,” she corrected primly, “therefore, it’s a drink.”

“Well, if you want to be literal, sure.”

“Besides, I try not to drink alcohol.”

He almost, almost asked what she meant by “try”, but stopped himself at the last moment. They were already getting sidetracked to his reason for coming here.

“I apologize if I was prying,” she said carefully. “I did not mean to speak out of turn on what might be a difficult subject.”

“It’s not difficult,” he said flatly. “It’s just a closed one. People in my line of work don’t really discuss that sort of thing.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and took a sip from her mug as if to busy herself. It wasn’t usually the Jedi way to act so… casual around others. If that was the right word.

The normalcy of the whole act caught him a little off guard, and he found himself adding without really thinking, “Everything worked out for the best, even if it’s different than what I first thought. I’m good at what I do.”

“If you ask me, I think you turned out pretty well,” she said, glancing up from her mug of caf, a small smile playing across her face.

His brain frizted out for a moment as he tried to interpret that statement. From anyone else he would have assumed they were trying to flirt with him. Considering her background, he couldn’t completely dismiss the fact that she was likely oblivious to that sort of thing. He decided to chalk it up to that so he could tackle the subject at hand. “Well, if that’s so, hopefully you’ll keep listening. At least, as long as you have a drink in hand.”

“Well, you were quite insistent that I grab one.”

He probably should have apologized for his brusqueness earlier, but he just shrugged. “I like to keep up appearances.”

“For the bartender?” She took a casual sip from the mug, but the look she shot him over the rim was contemplative, not confused. “Or are you concerned about other eyes?”

“You catch on quick.”

“You are not the first SIS agent I’ve had a meeting with under false pretenses.”

“Is it really a false pretense if we already made the arrangements before there was a need for one?” he shot back. “Besides, I bought you that drink, as promised.”

“So you did, and I still have a way left to go in this mug.” She leaned back in the seat, cupping the beverage between both of her hands. “Was there more you wanted to speak about, other than just the merits of what constitutes a ‘drink’?”

Touché. Apparently she knew how to duel with something other than just lightsabers. His first instinct was to return fire with a sarcastic remark, but he caught himself. While not normally one to back down from a challenge, there was a bigger issue here. Something was rotten on Carrick Station, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. 

He ran a finger along the rim of his glass, looking at the Jedi’s guarded expression. Any lingering doubts on her being part of Darok’s scheme had been pretty thoroughly put to rest by her practically trying to interrogate him on the spot. The amount of planning and forethought to somehow arrange that for Theron’s benefit was, quite frankly, paranoid. More paranoid than the spy’s current line of thinking. Also, Highwind’s record spoke for itself. Not to mention her performance on both of the missions. There was no telling what was going on, but if anyone could handle the unknown it was the woman in front of him. It would be stupid for him not to recruit her into this.

“This conversation is off the books,” he finally said. “Does that bother you?”

“I had a feeling it might be,” she returned. “Is this in regards to what I’m thinking?”

“It might be.” Theron sat his drink down and folded his hands together. “I don’t need the Force to do simple math. Things add up here. Something’s off.”

She nodded. “The timing of both attacks was too convenient.”

“That’s not all.” He frowned, doing quick calculations on how much of his hand he should play, and decided it would be beneficial to put most of his cards on the table. “Darok and these ops… there’s something being buried here.”

She pursed her lips. “Do you remember the Sith I spoke of? The one on the holo?”

“Oh, you mean the one our buddy Darok didn’t want you talking about?”

“You noticed that too?” She tapped the side of her mug, but he couldn’t tell if the comment was genuine or sarcastic.

“I’m surprised you did with the way you kept going on.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I was trying to properly debrief after a mission. No one wanted to listen to me.”

“I was listening,” Theron said, catching her eye. “I’ve been listening to you all day.”

She fixed him with a look. “Why did you not say anything?”

“Because there’s this thing called subtlety,” he said, “you ever heard of it?”

Her nostrils flared as she snorted out a breath. “Of course I know what subtlety is. What am I supposed to do? Use some sort of secret spy signal to let you know I want to talk?”

He stared at her for several beats, hopefully letting the ridiculousness of that statement sink in. “Yeah, of course you are. It looks like this.”

He used his thumb to trace the shell of his ear in an exaggerated gesture, like some sort of cliché spy from a holodrama. She narrowed her eyes, before quickly mimicking the motion. “Like that?”

Stars. She was just so… so… so… Whatever. It didn’t matter what she was. “Yeah. That’s the secret SIS signal for needing to pass along sensitive intel while someone else is listening in.”

“Really?” She tilted her head at him.

Okay, he was going to have to work on broadcasting his sarcasm more clearly. Also, they didn’t have time for this. So he returned to the more important subject at hand. “What did the Sith say?”

“Not much.” Highwind stared into the depths of her mug. “He spoke of a package that had been secured. To a ‘Lord Goh’, I presume that was the Sith I fought in the library. I could not determine what the contents of said package were.”

“I guess they wouldn’t just let that slip,” Theron muttered annoyed, mostly to himself. “Might defeat the purpose of doing their raid.”

“I suppose so,” she allowed. “When the Sith realized I was not his compatriot, he said something odd.”

“Odd how?”

“That I was ‘running a little bit ahead of schedule’.”

“That’s… yes. That’s very odd,” Theron agreed. “Although maybe not so much if the timing wasn’t so much of a coincidence as we’re supposed to believe. Did he say anything else?”

She was quiet for a moment, still staring into the contents of her mug. “When I pressed him on the reason for the attack, he said it was for ‘the vindication of history’. I don’t know what he meant by that… but I really don’t like the sound of it.”

Theron nodded, trying to fit the new snatches of information into the odd picture that was starting to form in his head. There were still too many gaps in the larger picture. He’d have to file them away for now.

“What are we going to do?”

“We?” Theron quirked a brow. “So I take it that means that you don’t want to just hang up that shiny new medal of yours and head on home?”

Her head snapped up at the challenge, for a moment the perfect Jedi calm broken. The brightly colored lights of the cantina threw a strange wash on everything, but the defiant blue of her eyes still shone through clearly. It made for a very striking image. “A Jedi does not have need for bloodstained trinkets.“

He raised his brows. “I’ve seen some that do. Wasn’t sure if you were one of them.”

“I have enough medals,” she leaned forward, meeting his stare.  “If you say something is being buried, I would like to know what that is.”

"It’s going to require some digging.”

“The truth usually does,” she said. “I’m out of shovels, but I’ve got a Seeker Droid on my ship that’s really good at digging up things.“

“That might be a bit overkill right now.” Not to mention way too literal. “I think we need to go for a more subtle approach.”

“If that’s what you think.” She leaned back against the cushion of the chair, eyeing him curiously. “What exactly is your line of thought?”

“Well, hypothetically speaking of course, I’d start by making a new friend,” he said casually, “someone I might be able to count on.”

“Friends are a good thing to have.”

“I’m thinking of a really good friend, one who’d be willing to face down the Emperor himself if it came to it,” he said, watching her carefully. “You know of anyone like that?”

At the mention of the Emperor, something flashed across her expression, so quick he almost missed it. Brows drawn together in a deep frown, and something darker in the eyes, but it was gone too fast to tell exactly what had been there.

“I might know of someone,” she said.

“Yes, well, then hypothetically after we exchanged friendship bracelets, I’d go off on my own.”

“That’s not very nice after making a friend.”

“My friend’s a busy lady. I wouldn’t want to bother her until I found out everything I could about Darok and the Sith Lord she talked to.”

“I thought you said you needed help.”

“Hypothetical help, but only after I checked and double-checked all my information and found all the connections.”

“This is a lot of hypotheticals,” she grumbled into her mug.

He couldn’t check the grin at her repressed annoyance. “I like my hypothetical proof.”

“Your new friend must be a very understanding and patient person.”

“I wouldn’t know, I just met her.”

“I do. She has the patience of a Jedi.”

“Fancy that,” he tossed back. “But I might give her a call—”

“Good, she was starting to get lonely drowning in this sea of hypothesis.”

“I’ll toss her a hypothetical lifeline.”

“My hypothetical hero.”

“And then after she stopped being hypothetically sarcastic, I’d see if she’d be ready to get to the bottom of all of this.”

“She’s ready now.” Highwind twisted the mug in her hands.

“That’s not being very patient,” he admonished lightly. Despite the gravity of the situation he had to hold back a laugh at the petulant look on her face. “And I’m good, Master Highwind, but I’m not good enough to be able to do all that without leaving this seat.”

“I thought you said we were friends,” she shot back.

“Hypoth—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that word,” she muttered dangerously.

“Fine, we’re ‘friends’.”

“Then drop the formalities, unless you want me to call you ‘Agent Shan’ from here on out.” 

She made sure to say the last part a few decibels louder than the rest of the sentence. Luckily the cantina was pretty much deserted at this time of day, but he fixed her with a look all the same for attempting to attract attention. 

“Now, Grey,” he lowered his voice in an attempt to get the conversation back under control, “if you’re annoyed you don’t need to shout.”

“I’m not annoyed,” she said, “but I don’t enjoy speaking in vague riddles either.”

“I thought you Jedi loved that.”

Highwind—no, Grey—shot him a look, and he was pretty sure that whatever curiosity she had held for him at the beginning of the conversation had been beaten out by irritation at this point. “It’s been a long, very unexpected day, Theron.”

“Okay, that’s probably fair.” The image of that unguarded moment he’d caught a glimpse of flashed in his mind. He could still see that glimmer on her cheeks, and the way she’d tried to dash them away before anyone else could see. The tiniest hints of something that could have been a thread of guilt wound through his chest and he busied himself with his glass of whiskey. “You did do all the heavy lifting.”

“I had help,” she corrected, and the curious quality of steel and compassion drew his gaze up to see her staring at him resolutely, “and I appreciate that. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

A tiny flare of warmth lit up in his gut, warring with that thread of guilt. He had no idea how to reconcile either of those conflicting feelings, which made it difficult to form a proper response. “I was just doing my job.”

“And it was a good one, judging by the fact that I’m here.” That really shouldn’t have made the little flare heat up into a small fire, but for some stupid reason it did. At least it burned away some of the guilt. “Even without the friendship bracelet, that goes both ways.”

“I don’t follow.”

“If this is off the books,” she leaned forward, voice dropping further, “then you’re going to need backup.”

“I work best alone.”

“That’s not how being ‘friends’ works.”

“I’ll call you once I know something,” he clarified, “but I can sneak around better without you waving your lightsaber for everyone to see.”

“I can always not pull it out.”

“The whole armor and cape getup is kind of a dead giveaway too.” He waved his hand at her attire vaguely. “Besides, I’m just going to do some low-key surveillance and scour the HoloNet. You’d get bored very quick.”

“I can do more than just wave around a lightsaber,” she pointed out.

“I’m sure you’re very talented,” he took a sip of his whiskey, “but not as much as me when it comes to my job.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not overconfident. Nothing bad has ever come from that.”

“Is that sarcasm I detect, Master Jedi? Very unbecoming.”

She pursed her lips together, cheeks turning the slightest shade of red, but didn’t drop that intense gaze. “If you run into trouble, what happens?”

“I’m not,” he said finitely, setting his glass down on the table and rising to his feet. “But I promise to write, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s not what I said—“

“Look, it’s been fun chatting, but I’ve got a shuttle to catch.”

“Aren’t you going to finish your drink?” She pointed to the half-consumed glass of whiskey. A bead of sweat trickled down the side, pooling on the table below it. “Such a waste. The bartender will talk.”

Theron slid a glance to the bartender, who was busy wiping down the bar, then back at the Jedi staring at him placidly. He met her gaze evenly, and grabbed the glass and tossed back the entire contents in one smooth motion. To his credit, he didn’t choke even as the alcohol burned a trail all the way down his throat.

She shrugged at him lightly, and lifted her mug up as if in cheers. “Have a good flight, Theron.”

“See you around,” he tossed back, before slipping away.

If his ears weren’t deceiving him, he thought he might have heard a quiet huff of laughter as he walked away, the whiskey still burning in his throat, and the odd warmth still bubbling in his gut.

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapters 11-13

Sooooo I am booboo the fool and kept forgetting to post the new chapters here when I updated them on Ao3. On that note, enjoy a 3 for 1 mass posting

Ao3 Links: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/47532154 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/48310690#workskin https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/49764506#workskin Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War, Chapter 13 is rated E Language: English 

Chapter 11: Vigo

It’s both a blessing and a curse being surrounded by droves of people. 9S likes the ability to disappear into a crowd, but the more people means the more likely he is to be discovered. At least, marching in line with the other scouts in the midst of the rest of the army, strangers wouldn’t be inspecting him too closely. That being said, he can’t shake the feeling that the eyes of the displaced and terrified citizens of Vigo were staring straight into his soul.

What was once a bustling port city is now a vacant array of buildings surrounded by hundreds of hastily pitched tents and camps. The situation is clearly much worse than White had anticipated, seeing as most if not all of the population camps about a mile away from the actual city and there seem to be no signs of protection or higher authority. They pass by several groups of people who almost swarm the march with their hands out desperately asking for things like food, water, and medicine. As much as the sight hurts 9S to watch, he had to march boldly, ignoring the cries of the suffering.

There’s multiple times where 9S has to scan the crowd. He’s certain he senses the presence of other half-demons here, though with so many in the crowd it’s hard to pick out exactly where they are. For a split second his hopes soar at the possibility that he won’t have to hide as badly here, but the tension and fear that hangs in the air quells that hope as quickly as it rises.

The city itself, vacant as it is, is one of the more opulent ones 9S has visited. Well maintained cobblestone streets, every building decorated with white marble columns contrasted by rich red brickwork and flanked by grand statues of what he assumes to be commissioning senators. He had heard the port town was wealthy, but he supposed he had to see it to believe it. If only he could take the time to actually enjoy the place.

White leads the army through the center of the practically abandoned city towards the barracks belonging to the city guard, right past a structure that chills 9S to the bone. An execution block, complete with gallows, cages, stockades, and other cruel methods of death. The dark wood and the cobblestone around it is stained dark and decorated with graffitied slurs and crude depictions of half-demons. 9S makes sure his glamor charm is hidden away under his coat and tries to not look at the grim sight for too long.

So far the only other people they pass by in Vigo are stubborn vagrants who refuse to abandon their homes, or volunteer soldiers bringing food and what little water they can find to the tent city. White commands the army to halt while she and Jackass enter the sparsely guarded judicial building, however they return with scowls. White snaps at a nearby city guard who sprints away as if he had seen a demon. 9S wonders if the Commander is the highest authority still left in the city…

Without the need to announce their arrival, since there were no authority figures besides White, the army files into the barracks and prepares themselves to settle in for a long time. There was no way to tell when they would be called into battle, so most of the soldiers believed they would be assigned to assist with moving people and ferrying supplies to and from the camps. 9S isn’t sure if he agrees with that, but he didn’t anticipate the cowardice of the ruling class, so at this point, anything could happen.

He also doesn’t expect just how cramped the city’s barracks would be. Everyone regardless of station, with the exception of Commander White herself, are nearly shoulder to shoulder as they unpack and claim beds. The scouts all congregate at the back of the bunk room, and though the tension between 9S and 801S is still palpable, they both help each other and the rest of the scouts get situated in their small spaces. 9S wonders if he should apologize for how he acted a few days back, after all, 801S was in the right. Wandering away from the group was incredibly dangerous, even if it really wasn’t his fault.

“Hey...Nines?” 32S quietly says to him once most of the others are sprawled out on their beds for a moment of rest.

“Hm? Everything okay?”

32S fidgets with a simple charm on his bracelet, “Yeah, um… Did you see-”

“The town center? Yeah…” a grim look crosses 9S’ face.

“I didn’t know Vigo was so dangerous to...us.”

“I didn’t either. According to 42S’ report, it seemed more tolerant than most towns…”

“What changed?”

“Demon attacks,” 801S muttered, shuffling past the two, “I’d imagine between regular demon sieges and whatever the thing in the bay is only fueled tensions.”

“Oh…” 32S’ head drops, “Right.”

801S sighs and places a hand on his companion’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine if you just stick with the squad. Not even an angry mob would dare attack a group of uniformed soldiers.”

9S jabs 801S in the side, perhaps a little too roughly, “Ssh. Not so loud.”

He almost snaps at 9S but shuts up once he sees the small troop of city guards and Republic soldiers shuffle through the crowd of White’s soldiers. One gives the scouts an odd look before continuing onward.

“Odds are they’ve got orders to apprehend anyone they suspect of being half breeds,” 9S whispers, “If they hear any of us it won’t matter what army we’re a part of and it would get the Commander in serious trouble.”

“Why don’t you get 2B to protect you.” says 801S with a scowl.

9S is about to snap back at him, but Jackass looming just a few beds down forces him to keep quiet. For now at least.

“Okay boys listen up,” she grumbles in a low tone, just barely loud enough for the scouts to hear, “White and I suspect something’s wrong. No Senator, no Mayor, no Councilors, not even a Merchant Lord. You lot and I are gonna do some snooping around the camps, see if any of the civilians know what’s going on. Be geared up and at the front of the barracks in an hour.”

The moment Jackass is out of earshot, the scouts let out a collective groan.

“I know it isn’t a Senator’s estate, but it’ll be a lot more comfortable than the barracks,” 6O says with a playful wink.

2B stands awkwardly in the small bedroom that her friend had rented at a steep discount through a mix of feminine charms and a flash of military affiliation. A free place to stay required her to be an official part of White’s army after all.

“All this is...for me?” she asks.

“Yep! Well, at least until we move out again. After that either you stick with us or you pay on your own.”

“Thank you,” 2B bows her head to her friend, “What do I owe you in repayment?”

“Nothing, you dumb chicken!” 6O jabs her in the rib lightly, “This is me repaying you for that stunt you got me out of during the Equinox Festival?”

“If I hadn’t covered for that mess you made with the Elder’s granddaughter and that botched wedding you would have been eaten alive. Literally.”

“I know! That’s why I’m repaying you! Besides, that innkeeper would do anything for a pretty lady.”

“Oh really?” she crosses her arms across her chest and allows for a coy smirk, “Do you know any?”

“Hey watch it, Featherbrain, I can still let you sleep in the streets.”

2B puts her hands up defensively, “I kid, I kid. Though all this does seem a bit...unnecessary. I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful.”

“Huh? Why, are you planning on exploring the city?” a smirk of her own plays across 6O’s lips, “Ooor….are you planning on fooling around with a certain scout? Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” 6O is taken aback by her honesty and bluntness, “...You two are really hitting it off, huh?”

2B nods, “He’s interesting and…” she shakes her to let the downy feathers beneath her hair settle before they puff out too much, “...Cute.”

“Interesting and cute, huh? Is that all it takes to win the heart of a Coatyl?”

“Please,” 2B huffs, “I’m not that easy to woo. But…”

“Buuuut….?”

“I was thinking about...um,” she turns away and tries to smooth down her hair, “...Going out to find a...stone.”

6O gasps and bounces on her heels with barely contained excitement, “Are you serious?! Oh, 2B!! When are you gonna give it to him?! You have to tell me! As your best friend and self-appointed emotional guardian, I have a right to know!”

“I don’t know. I have to find one first…”

“You come to me the moment you do! Promise?!”

“I promise, 6O.”

In hindsight, it probably would have been safer for 9S to stick with the other scouts while investigating the refugee camps, but he needed to get away from 801S and his constant jabs at his closeness to 2B. Every single time he thinks about maybe apologizing, that guy always ends up pushing back. It’s like he has mind-reading powers or something. It all just makes 9S’ blood boil.

Just thinking about 2B makes his head spin. It’s such a bizarre situation he never thought he’d find himself in, and there’s no easy solution to it. Cutting her loose wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t leave the only real lead to her sibling. That and 9S gets the feeling she’s become...attached to him, which is a whole other wheelbarrow of manure for him to sift through and possibly the reason for all the conflict between him and the other scouts.

He’d be an idiot if he denied having feelings for her. She’s strong, mysterious, and sweet beneath the abrasive personality. There were glimmers of genuine kindness that every time he gets a peek, he wants to see more and more…

God, he’s got it bad for her.

Stupid lousy goddamn sexy dragoness…

Then there was the whole issue of his bloodline and the danger that put him and 2B in, which is just...Great.

At least he could lose himself in his work. A good puzzle always kept his mind off of distressing things.

9S spends an hour or so mingling with those civilians that were involved in higher government before it all disappeared. Most declined to speak at first, but nothing a bit of wine couldn’t fix seeing as how luxuries were hard to come by. According to one tax collector, the Senator had fled the town the moment the demon first surfaced, and his assistants soon after. One by one the mayor, councilors, even treasurers secured passage out of Vigo before any of the civilians knew what was happening. Of course, 9S shouldn’t be surprised at this, but it still makes him sick to his stomach that they would just leave their people to die like this? Maybe growing up with authority figures like White, Jackass, and his mother made him less tolerant of this sort of behavior.

The last real authority figure still lingering around is an old wharfmaster, who shut down all ship traffic in the harbor after the second demon sighting. He’s much more forthcoming with information than the others, telling 9S about how shutting the harbor down was a very unpopular decision. With demon attacks on the rise, many civilians from all over flocked to the port city for passage to the blessed grounds of the Theocracy. Even with a massive mystery demon in the bay the water is still the safest option, with the other two being a vast desert and an even larger primordial bog, both filled with creatures far worse than whatever was lurking in the depths.

Unfortunately, that’s the extent of what he’s able to learn. No one seems to know where the nobles went or how long they planned on staying away. Their houses and most of their belongings were left behind and promptly ransacked once word spread, though 9S doubts if anything terribly valuable was taken.

He begins making his way back to the barracks to compile his report when he runs into his mother and the other supply wagons. On either side of the caravan are several city guards that escort them through the camps and into the city proper. 21O leads the horses pulling the raven wagon and gives a brief wave to 9S as she passes by. He sprints up to her while shoving his notebook into his satchel.

“Hey, what took you guys so long?” he says after catching his breath.

“Customs officers needed to inspect the wagons before letting us into the city.”

“Really?”

21O gives him an odd look, “Is that so hard to believe? It’s a large city important to the Republic.”

“Well, the city government is all but gone aside from a few tax collectors and a wharfmaster. Everyone else fled after the first sighting.”

She sighs, “We should have expected this.”

“At least we don’t have to pander to some stuffy aristocrat while we’re here, right?”

“In a sense, yes, but there is a good chance that those stuffy aristocrats will be sending messengers to make sure we adhere to their rules.”

“Yeah, yeah…” 9S grumbles.

“One affirmation is enough.”

“Fiiiiine.”

9S hops onto the wagon so he can finish getting all of his notes for his report written down, stopping occasionally to calm the squawking birds. It isn’t long before city hall comes into view, as well as an ornate carriage. Two nearly identical white haired men walk with White and Jackass. Something about the two of them gives 9S a...strange feeling.

“Who are they?” he asks.

21O stares at the two men for a much longer time than 9S thought necessary, “...I don’t know. They could be envoys.”

“Well,” mutters 9S, “...I have to turn my report into Jack-...The Lieutenant.” he hops off the wagon just as it passes the city hall.

“You’re not going to eavesdrop on the commander again, are you?” his mother chastises, “Remember how long you were stuck on latrine duty the last time they caught you?”

“I’m gonna catch her before their meeting, don’t worry.” he groans, but a smirk crosses his face just as 21O gets out of earshot, “...And I won’t get caught this time.”

Slipping into the city hall is easy enough. 9S is small enough his footsteps barely make a sound even on marble floors, and there’s plenty of statues, columns, and furniture of obscure him from view. The real problem is finding which of the hundreds of offices and council chambers his superior officers are using. Door after door of empty rooms, storage closets, and baffling fake doors, he finally hears the muffled grumbling of Jackass.

“...is why they had to send the two of you. Why not meet us personally.”

9S crouches near the door and eases it open just a tad so he can hear better.

“Again,” the man with long white hair says, his voice smooth and almost velvet like, “We apologize that the Senator could not be here to meet you and your army in person, but he does send his thanks for coming to his city’s aid.”

“I see,” White says, tapping her chin.

“Now, the reason for our visit,” he motions to what appears to be his twin, a man with short wild white hair, to lay a series of parchments in front of White and Jackass, “The Senator and the city councilors have compiled their plans for evacuating civilians.”

“And enlisting a Theocratic battalion is part of these evacuations?” Jackass snaps and gestures to the packet in her hands.

“Yes,” the long haired man remains calm, “They are the most effective legion to dispose of the demonic threat, and seeing as your troops are not prepared to handle an evacuation or the demon in the harbor-”

White holds up her hand, “Incorrect. My lieutenant has been devising a countermeasure of our own for some time. As for the civilians, our troops are more than capable of handling evacuations.”

The long haired man is silent for a moment while his short haired companion childishly slumps over the table, “...Very well. Under your discretion we will leave the tasks outlined in these documents to you and your army. I am...curious of this...countermeasure you mentioned. Would it be enough to eliminate the demon in the water?”

Jackass produces some documents of her own and arranges them on the table. Oh how 9S’ wishes he could see them.

“It requires two ships to carry it, but there’s enough power in cannon to level a small city. Unless this demon is immune to half a ton of solid metal flying at it at about ...three hundred miles per hour, we’re fine.”

“This contraption is...experimental, yes?”

Jackass tenses up, “Yes, but I’ve overseen every part of its design. It will work.”

He nods, “Very well. If the beast surfaces again we will prepare your...cannon. The Senator’s provisions and supplies are at your disposal.”

White bows, “Thank you. We will begin preparations for the evacuations immediately.”

The two white haired men return the bow and turn to the door. For the briefest of moments, the one with long hair locks eyes with 9S and an unnatural chill runs through his body. He’s frozen in place by the man’s hypnotic red eyes, and 9S swears he smiles at him. As they move towards him, 9S scrambles away as quickly and as quietly as he can. They don’t shout or follow or chase after, they just leave.

When they pass by him, that same chill makes 9S shudder and the hideous whispering of the girls in red begin to creep into his mind. The long haired man smirks idly as he stares in his general direction.

His inhuman, red eyes bore into 9S’ soul...

Chapter 12: Cherry Boy

With little over a week and no sign of the strange demon in the bay, 9S beings to wonder if maybe this is all just a big hoax. Perhaps the Senator and Councilors fabricated this all as a ploy to interrupt the mass evacuation, or simply to have a stronger military presence at their disposal. He’s sure that Commander White and Jackass are suspicious as well, considering they waste no time putting him and the other scouts to work. It’s mostly busy work and assisting the refugees on the outskirts of the city, but there are a number of times where they have the ulterior motive of watching Adam and Eve, the twin messengers of the Senator.

Simply looking at the twins sends shivers down his spine. Their eyes, demeanor, stark white hair, even the way they speak sets off something within him. Not to mention the fact that whenever they’re nearby, he hears the nauseating whispers of...whatever those girls in red are. He knows they’re demons, but he’s not sure which kind or if they’re full blooded or not.

Of course, 9S told Jackass of his suspicions, which were met with solemn nods and promises of “working on it”. As much as it frustrates him that there isn’t immediate action, it is a delicate situation. Those twins hold themselves in a position of power over the entire army, one false move and White would end up in a mess of trouble. Jackass needs irrefutable proof that those two aren’t human to make a proper case against them.

However, there’s only so much he can do in one day.

His entire morning and afternoon is spent assisting his mother with care of the ravens and sorting incoming mail, as well as keeping tabs on the twin messengers under the guise of simple errands for the wharfmaster. With the added bonus of 801S being assigned to assist, 9S pushes himself and 801S to complete all of their tasks as quickly as possible. Luckily, 801S agrees with him, albeit sullenly.

9S sighs to himself as he walks with 801S. Their little feud has been going on for quite some time, and frankly the whole thing exhausts him.

“Hey...801S?” he begins.

“Yeah?”

He sounds genuine at least, that’s a good sign, “I...Look I know I’ve been a jerk to you and the others recently.”

801S says nothing, but regards his friend with wary but patient eyes.

“I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting recently. We’re supposed to be a team, but I’ve just been thinking of myself.”

Again, 801S says nothing for a long time, only staring at 9S while he frets with the hem of his sleeve.

“...I can hardly blame you. She is very pretty,” he says finally, a small grin creeping on his face.

9S’ face flushes red, “Y-...She is. But that doesn’t excuse the way I’ve treated everyone.”

He shrugs, “By this point it’s just me who’s still holding a grudge. But...Maybe I’m still bitter.”

“About?”

“You know…” 801S gives his friend a sad look and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh...Yeah. Listen, I know that we didn’t, um...work well as a couple, but you’re still my friend. No matter what.”

“I know that it’s just...It makes me feel weird seeing you go after someone else, especially a woman. I know I don’t have any right to feel that way but that’s the truth.”

9S rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah…”

“I owe you an apology as much as you do. So...I’m sorry for being such a jealous dunce.”

9S laughs a bit, “We really are a mess aren’t we.”

“No, just you. Mr. I’m gonna fall for a dragoness.”

“W- Wait hang on!” he sputters, “I did not fall for her!”

“Oh really?” 801S teases, and for the first time in a while, his coy smirk appears, “Then once we get back to the barracks, where were you gonna go?”

“N-None of your business!”

9S self-consciously pulls his scarf over his face and dashes away, leaving behind a laughing 801S.

“Good luck, moron!”

2B sits on 6O’s bed, legs folded beneath her. She turns a smooth, blue-ish pebble over and over in her hand while 6O combs her thin fingers through the downy undercoat of 2B’s hair.

“Soooo...Is this the one?” 6O asks, twisting a few strands into a loose braid.

“I think so, the sheen and color of this stone is much better.”

“When are you gonna give it to him?”

2B hums in thought, “I’m not sure, there isn’t very often where the two of us are alone…Perhaps I’ll ask him if he wants to go on a walk?”

“That might work, but…” she mutters, “Sorry, Toobie, but I can’t help but wonder what would happen if he doesn’t accept?”

“Well, it wouldn’t change much really,” 2B responds, “It’s merely a statement of intention.”

“You can say that all you like, but you and I both know what the common meaning of one of those stones is.”

She huffs and attempts to smooth down her hair before it becomes too fluffed up, “Hush.”

6O giggles and returns her attention to the simple pattern of plaits and braids she’s weaving through her friend’s hair. Through some of the braiding she places small colorful flowers. Some purple and blue, others bright red like drops of blood.

“Still, I can’t help but think the meaning and symbolism might be lost on him. He’s never had exposure to Coatyl culture beyond what you’ve explained to him.”

2B can’t help but agree. Without knowledge of what this stone means, it’s just a simple rock. She turns it in her hands, running her thumb over the smooth peaks and troughs of the little blue stone.

“...I’m still going to do it.”

“I know,” 6O says with a giggle, “I know better than to try and stop you once you’ve made up your mind. Oh, but you...Um, has your uh ...time, passed?” she mumbles, fidgeting with a small, hair-like feather.

“Yes, my yearly heat ended several months ago.”

6O lets out an audible sigh of relief which earns her a pointed glare from 2B, “Oh quiet, I’m allowed to fret.”

“I am not some wanton teenager. I know what I’m doing.”

“You could have fooled me.” 6O teases.

“Listen-”

Just as 2B is about to scold her dearest friend for her overbearing behavior, she spots 9S waving from just down the hall. Hastily, she stuffs the stone in one of her pockets before he gets too close.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear!” 6O greets as 9S lets out an annoyed groan.

“Ha ha,” he says with a deadpan tone, “I’ve never heard that one a million times.”

2B shuffles slightly as she waves to 9S, who plops down on the bed next to her.

“Wow, your hair looks really pretty with all these flowers in it!” he says while running the tips of his fingers along one of her braids, “Like a...like a snow field with little flowers poking out of it.” He knows his face is bright red, but he doesn’t feel the telltale flutters of his heart or shaking of his hands. He just smiles and runs his fingers over the patterns of braids and flowers.

6O snickers and teases him for being a budding poet, but 2B can’t help but notice how her heart skips a beat.

“Thank you…”

“Aww,” 6O coos, “Look, when she gets flustered her hair gets all poofy. Like an angry bird!”

2B shoves her friend playfully as 9S giggles next to her. Suddenly the stone in her pocket feels twice as heavy, “Ahem...Anyway, 9S, what are you doing here? I thought you were loaded with tasks?”

“Ugh, yeah,” he groans, “But 801S and I managed to finish everything more quickly than I thought, so now I have the rest of the day to myself.”

“Ooo,” 6O says, leaning in close to the two of them, “What are you gonna do with all your free time?”

“Um,” 9S looks to the floor, his face suddenly heating up, “Well, 2B, if you’re also free, I was thinking maybe we could explore the city? It’s really quiet since everyone is trying to leave. Usually places like this are swarming with tons of people all the time. It can get pretty overwhelming.”

2B and 6O exchange glances with each other. 6O sports a wide grin and excited eyes, while 2B’s face remains as neutral as ever, aside from the slight shifting of the flowers in her hair.

“Sure,” says 2B, “I’ve never been to a human city before, at least not one as big as this. I’d appreciate a tour.”

“Great!” 9S nearly bounces to his feet, taking 2B’s hand in his and pulling her up as well, “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes! I’m gonna change out of my uniform!”

Before 2B can respond he’s already out the door, his excited footsteps echoing through the barracks. She feels her heart flutter like the wings of a fledgling and thinks herself rather silly.

6O leans close to her, a wicked grin spreading across her face, “Soooo….”

“Hush.”

“Come on Two Beeeeee! This is the perfect opportunity!”

“Hush.”

She grabs 2B’s shoulders and rocks them back and forth, “You gotta!! 2B you have to!”

“Hush,” 2B shuffles herself away from 6O and rises to her feet. She lifts her scabbard and slings the strap across her shoulders, then makes her way towards the barrack’s exit, “....Maybe I will. Depending on how things go.”

The excited shouting of 6O is the last thing 2B hears before she shuts the door behind her.

Even 2B, someone who had never set foot in a city this size, couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the vacant streets and silent buildings. The comparisons to a forest of stone trees were not lost on her. A forest with no life in it whatsoever, aside from the handful of stubborn folks who seem determined to die in the place they were born. Such devotion to their homeland sends a pang of guilt through her heart, and reminds her of where she can never return to…

Yet those melancholy thoughts are quickly swept away by 9S’ enthusiasm. He gleefully leads her through the maze of streets and buildings, plazas and squares, pointing out the unique history of each statue or piece of architecture. While his wealth of knowledge is staggering, 2B finds herself more interested in feeling the different wind currents shift and waver, and imagining how to successfully fly on such currents. Even though she isn’t exactly listening to him, 9S’ cheerful chattering does make her feel more at ease in this foreign and claustrophobic environment.

Even the local fauna seem to have fled, aside from the street cats that peek out from their hiding places to watch 9S. One skinny orange cat even follows them for a few blocks, its tail held high the entire time. A low growl from 2B sends it scurrying away.

“Aw...that one was cute,” 9S pouts.

2B huffs, “Don’t like cats.”

“How come?” he asks, pacing a bit in front of her.

“Back in my homeland, we had to always be on guard for shadowcats. They make your...what are they called,” she mutters, “Lions? Yes, lions. They make lions look like harmless kittens.”

“Okay...that’s terrifying,” 9S muses and falling back in step besides 2B.

“Quite. They are far too silent for something as large as they are.”

9S shudders at the image his mind conjures of predators the size of the buildings that surround them, lurking just out of sight. Desperate to change the subject, he grabs hold of 2B’s hand and pulls her forward with a nervous grin plastered on his face.

“Come on, let’s find something to eat! There’s bound to be someone still running a stand or two around here. What are you in the mood for?”

The existence of a choice catches her off guard, “Hm…”

“We could see if there’s someone making sweetbreads! Or something hearty and warm, like soup or meat pies!” his eyes light up at the thought of these foods, but suddenly his face falls, “Oh...wait I don’t have a whole lot of money right now…”

The last thing 2B wants is to quash his enthusiasm, but she doubts that anyone with something to live for would be anywhere near this town. In fact the only humans she’s seen in the city besides those affiliated with White’s army were a small group of vagrants idlying by a run down pier. They huddle around a small fire surrounded by shields, which protect it from the salty wind blowing off of the water.

She stops suddenly as an idea comes to her.

“Hm? What’s wrong, 2B?”

“Why not go to the harbor?” she asks, pointing towards the pier, “It is free food, after all.”

While she does have a point 9S can’t help but remember the state he found her the first time they met. Floundering around like a crippled seagull, barely able to keep her head above water. Looking back on it now, he'd consider it funny if it wasn’t a threat to her life, and even then it was still pretty funny. Still, he would rather not have to dive into the murky, possibly demon infested waters of the harbor to rescue her once again.

“Alright,” 9S says, “But only if you let me teach you how us weak humans fish. You know, without almost drowning.”

“Hmph.” 2B crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at him, “The techniques of my people have been honed for millenia. Do not insult the proud dragon species.”

He holds back a laugh, “Only if you promise not to make me jump in the water after you.”

A low growl is the only response he gets, which only serves to make him smile more. She really is cute when she’s flustered.

2B doesn’t agree to his proposal out right, but she does follow behind him while he looks through the abandoned merchant stalls for loose equipment. Most if not all of the stands are void of anything useful, whether it was packed up when the owner left or picked clean by vagrants was impossible to tell, but there were a handful that still contained hidden treasures.

9S wasn’t about to expect to find a full fishing set and box of tackle, but he did find a worn rod and a spool of wire. In another he found an old box of hardtack and cheese. Not as ideal a bait as worms or insects, but it would do in a pinch. 2B just stares, bewildered by the seemingly random tools he collects, but makes no comment. She only watches him with those bright, curious eyes. He can’t help but smile at her.

“Come on, let’s go find a good spot,” he says, nodding his head towards the bay, “Or-...Hey can you pick out where there’s the most fish?”

With a nod, 2B wanders over to the edge of the dock and peers into the water. She stands there, unmoving and silent aside from the occasional turn of her head. Sometimes she prowls across the edge, stalking some unseen movement. Unable to contain his curiosity, 9S leans over, dangerously close to the water, to get a look at her face and what she’s looking at. Her eyes, wide and darkend, dart across the surface. It’s mesmerizing to watch her, so mesmerizing that when she suddenly turns to speak to him, he nearly jumps out of his skin and loses his balance.

“This spot seems to be a spawning ground,” 2B says, fixing her hair, “There are plentiful fish here.”

“R-..right. Okay,” he inwardly curses how easy it is to get him to blush, as he can already feel his face heating up, “Here, lemme show you how to bait the line.”

Careful not to stab his fingers, 9S hooks a piece of cheese onto the end of the line, “You want the barb at the end to be poking through enough so that it hooks into the fish’s mouth when it tries to get the bait, but not so much that it can just take it without hooking themselves.”

2B’s brow furrows as he casts the line into the harbor and sits on the edge, his feet dangling above the water, “Now what?”

“Now we wait for a fish to bite. Once you feel the line start to tug and pull away, you reel it in. That’s really all there is to it.”

“Seems...Boring,” she says, yet sits beside him anyway.

“That depends on how hungry the fish are,” he answers, “If they are, we should have a bite within-...!”

As if on cue, the rod dips into the water, then whatever is on the other end nearly rips it from 9S’ hands. With a quick yelp, he grabs hold of the fishing rod and yanks backward with all of his might. Something small breaks the surface of the water and with practiced movements, 9S reels in a fish about the size of his hand.

“See? Easy!” He holds up the wriggling fish to 2B with a bright smile, “You wanna give it a shot?”

2B eyes the fish, “...What are you going to do with that?”

“Oh, usually I toss them back. Why?” he asks, working the hook out of the fish’s mouth.

The moment the fish is free, 2B snatches it away with a lightning quick swipe of her clawed hand.

“I’m hungry,” she says and bites the head clean off of its body.

“Urgh…,” 9S fights back the nauseous churning of his gut, “Fine, but if you want to eat more you have to catch your own.”

She swallows the still-thrashing tail in one gulp, “...Okay, deal.”

9S hands her the rod and some bait then takes a step back. Just in case. She fumbles with the hook and ends up stabbing her fingers more than once before the bit of bread is through the barb. It’s worth the sideways glares he gets from her to laugh at her stubbornness.

“Need any help?” he teases.

She lets out a growl before tossing the line into the harbor and kneeling down next to him, “Quiet.”

Watching 2B fish is far from the relaxing and meditative activity 9S expects it to be. It’s more akin to watching a hawk stalk its prey from its perch. Each movement of the fish swimming just out of his sight, each ripple of the water is something 2B can decipher and track with precision he could only dream of. Her shoulders tense each time the line moves, whether by the currents or by a curious fish. She looks so poised he’s half worried that she might leap into the water at any given moment.

A few of the civilians who chose to stay in the city wander over to watch this strange woman in strange robes fish in her bizarre manner. 2B doesn’t seem to notice, as her concentration is locked solely on the water and what lies beneath.

“Try moving the rod a little. Fish tend to like things that move like prey,” he whispers directly in her ear so as not to disturb her too much.

The very tip of the rod dips once, twice, then in a flash of movement too fast for 9S to even see 2B leaps back and rips a large trout out of the water with a magnificent splash. The civilians cheer as the fish struggles against the rod and 2B’s strength, floundering on the ground pathetically. She grins at her catch, flashing the pointed teeth of a predator. 9S can’t help but feel...something...as she bites into its flesh and severs its spine clean in half. Not fear, at least not entirely fear. Awe perhaps? Whatever the feeling is, it certainly makes his stomach do strange flips and his heart beat just a bit faster.

The civilians disperse quickly amidst worried murmuring and fearful stares. Some part of 9S feels as though he should be offended, but then again, as he glances at 2B eating a live fish nearly whole he can see why strangers would flee from her. After all, he almost did.

But he knows she is not some monster, despite her outward appearance and current actions. She is kind, gentle, and strong beyond compare. She is a peerless warrior, and someone he considers to be a dear friend. He…

“I…” 2B’s voice jolts 9S out of his thoughts, “I would offer to share, but…” she looks down at the remains of the trout in her hands, “Well, you said before humans can’t eat raw meats.”

“Well, not often. But I hear there are some places that think it’s a delicacy.”

Her eyes widen a bit and she tilts her head to the side in the way that makes 9S’ heart skip, “Really?”

“Mhm,” he says as he takes the fishing rod and casts it into the harbor, “Even just on our continent, there’s a lot of kinds of food specific to one area. Like on the border of the Theocracy and the Great Bog they make this special kind of sweet bread with honey that supposedly tastes like angel tears.”

“I’m not sure I see the point in all this...variation.” 2B admits after tossing the scraps of inedible fish back into the water.

9S gives her a quizzical look, “Do Coatlys not have different ways of preparing meals? Like different mixes of spices?”

“Preparing food seems to be a…human practice. We simply hunt prey or gather plants from the forest, clean, dress, and give thanks. That’s it.”

He chuckles, “I guess you must think all the effort humans put into cooking pretty silly, huh?”

“Hardly,” 2B says, shaking her head, “It’s....interesting. I’d like for you to cook for me sometime, should the occasion arise.”

9S’ face lights up like the sun, “Really?! I know tons of recipes from all over! Maybe once we���re done here, I’ll be able to go on leave for a bit, then we can try all kinds of new foods together!”

2B folds her hands into her pockets and fumbles with something unseen by 9S, “I’d like that, I think.”

Though the conversation ends, 9S finds himself enjoying their silence. More often than not he feels a bit awkward if there’s little to no banter, but this is...comfortable. He doesn’t feel the need to speak to 2B for her to know he’s enjoying her company. And the soft smile on her lips lets him know that she feels the same.

They fish together in silence, passing the rod back and forth every so often, 2B eating whatever fish looks the tastiest to her, until the sun begins to set.

“It’s gonna be dark soon, we should start heading-...” 9S begins, but as he stands up he cuts himself short, “Oh! I just remembered something!”

“Hm?” 2B hums, standing up with him.

“While I was helping the refugees earlier, I happened upon a traveling merchant who was selling something I’ve never tried before. Want to come with me?”

2B barely has the chance to nod before he grabs her hand and starts pulling her along. They jog together through the empty streets, and though she is more than capable of keeping pace beside him, 9S does not let go of her hand.

She thinks she doesn’t want him to.

It isn’t long before the sprawling complex of tents comes into view, just past the unkempt walls of Vigo. Many civilians are settling in for the night, but many more are huddled around small fires chatting with one another. The air is tense, apprehensive, but not as much as when they first arrived. 2B wrinkles her nose at the sharp scent of alcohol that hangs around certain groups, but 9S seems too focused on his destination to notice.

“Oh, good!” he says and points towards a man in holy vestments casting a blue hued spell, “He’s still here!”

A strange scent hangs in the air around this holy man. Sweet and fruity, it reminds 2B of a tree bearing bountiful fruits, but the chill in the air makes her scales itch. She watches as the holy man stir several large pots of what looks like cream while casting that chilling magic and pouring a bowl of fruit paste into the mixtures.

“Ah, the young soldier from earlier!” the holy man greets 9S as they approach, “And who is this? Another soldier?”

“Hello again!” 9S replies and waves, “No, this is my friend 2B. I convinced her to try your...cold cream?”

“Iced cream,” he says with a chuckle.

“Iced cream. I convinced her to try some with me.”

2B doesn’t speak, but nods and eyes the priest warrily.

“No need to be so wary, young one. This treat is a favorite among even the folks of the northern Theocracy,” the holy man smiles warmly at her, “Now, what flavor would you two like?”

“Flavor?” 9S blinks for a moment, “Is that what that fruit was for?”

“Exactly, my boy. I have strawberries, caramel, elderberries, cherries, dragonfruit-...”

“Cherry!” 9S yelps, then immediately shrinks down sheepishly, “Er, cherry please.”

“Of course. And for you, miss?”

2B looks back and forth between the priest and 9S, eyes wide with confusion, “Um...I don’t know. These are all new to-”

“Caramel for her. Can you put a bit of salt in it as well? She’s not a fan of too sweet food,” 9S says, stepping in front of her a bit.

A short huff comes from 2B, but her irritation is quelled by 9S simply placing his hand on hers. She makes a mental note to snap at him later for speaking for her.

“Of course of course. It will be just a moment, now.”

9S places some gold coins into a little pan of collections sitting just in front of the priest and steps back to watch his process. With one hand he stirs the thickening mixture of milk, sugar, and respective flavorings, and with another he sprinkles in a bit of salt. He casts a basic ice spell at the base of the jug till the cream becomes so thick that he must use both hands to stir. Once satisfied with the product, the holy man uses the stirring spoon to fill two simple ceramic bowls with the different flavors requested.

“There you go, enjoy you two!”

“Thank you very much,” 9S says, taking the bowls from the priest and handing 2B hers, “Come on, let’s eat on the way back.”

2B stares at the bowl as she follows after him. The cold of this frozen cream bites into the thin scales of her hands, and the scent it gives off is unlike anything she had smelled before. It’s not entirely unpleasant, just strange to her. She dares to lick it, if only a bit, and gasps loud enough to startle 9S.

“You okay? Too cold?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “No...It’s-...” her brow furrows, “I don’t understand.”

“Huh? What don’t you get?”

“How does this golden sugar taste different from the white sugar?”

9S can’t help but laugh, “It’s caramel. Boiling the sugar with water and then letting it cool changes the way it tastes.”

“How? What kind of spell is that?”

“It’s not a spell,” he swallows a small mouthful of his reddish ice cream, “Just chemistry. Though in a way, it is kind of like magic.”

“Strange…” 2B mutters, and licks at the ice cream some more.

“Indeed,” 9S says with a small giggle, “Oh, hey 32S told me about a side entrance that puts us closer to the barracks than going through the main gate. It takes us through the woods for a bit but with the two of us we should be okay.”

“Why were you worried in the first place?”

“Well there’s wolves, bears, and demons of course.” he grumbles, “Remember, I’m not as strong as you.”

“Yes, but I’m the most dangerous thing here. Aside from whatever’s in the water.”

“Oh hush, and just follow me.”

True to his word, 9S leads her through the thick forest that sprawls along the eastern side of Vigo’s walls. A small, untended road winds through the trees but patches of vegetation grow over segments of the glorified dirt path. Without a sign of human activity along with the fading light, 9S feels safe enough near 2B to deactivate his concealing spell. He taps the jewel in his pendant twice and the air around him shimmers briefly. Little stubby horns emerge from his forehead and a thin barbed tail whips sways back and forth with his stride. He feels 2B’s eyes on him, but when he turns to meet her gaze there’s no fear or malice in her eyes. He...isn’t sure what emotion he sees in her dark eyes but it makes his chest feel warm.

9S smiles and holds up his bowl of ice cream, “Hey, 2B. Check out what I can do.”

2B tilts her head. She isn’t sure what to expect from him anymore. He’s surprised her at nearly every turn. She prepares for him to toss the bowl in the air, or spin it on the tip of his tail.

No amount of preparation could save her from the shock of watching a long, pointed tongue unfurl from his mouth and lap up the frozen treat.

Her whole body simultaneously feels frozen, and unbearably hot at the same time. Either he has no idea what he’s doing to her, or he knows very, very well. His tongue coils around the ice cream like a serpent, bending and twisting and writhing in ways that make 2B’s mind conjure all manner of sinful acts.

Resolve shattered and stone burning in her pocket, she can’t fight the words that rise in her throat like acid.

“I want that inside me.”

9S stops. Everything stops. He’s fairly certain his heart stops beating too.

Did she...say…

Heat and pressure coil in his gut and suddenly his pants feel very tight. Panic and shame mix together in a horrid slurry, tearing at his insides with such fervor that he almost doubles over. He has to get out of here. He has to find a way out right now...

“I…” 9S stammers, “I have to go take care of something.”

Chapter 13: A Minor Distraction This chapter is Rated E

2B comes to the conclusion that humans are stupid.

Well, not stupid. 9S is far too intelligent for her to consider truly stupid. Rather, he seems so bound by human expectations and conventions that he acts as if he is stupid. 2B knows full well what he’s run off to “take care of”. Anyone with a functioning mind could figure that out. What she can’t figure out is why.

They are both attracted to each other in a sexual manner, why draw out this period of tension? Why not simply get it over with? He can’t enjoy this, can he?

She leans against a tree, mulling over her own frustrations. Yes, perhaps she was a bit too blunt with him and yes perhaps she forgot to present him with the stone, but if his current behavior is anything to go by it would have lead to the same conclusion.

Something 6O told her years ago comes back into her mind, something about how humans had strange rituals and societal limitations around sexual relations. The details escape her, but even the vague idea is enough to cause her frustration. Sure her own culture has its own behavior and conventions but those existed for mated pairs, not for casual sexual encounters.

She lets out a huff and smooths back her ruffled hair. It’s foolish of her to get so worked up over this. It should have been obvious to her from the start. 9S has demonic blood in him, and incubus blood at that.

A pang of guilt hits her like an arrowhead. Yes, his incubus heritage has...unfortunate connotations to it if she remembers correctly. 6O told her stories of human women visited in the dead of night by unnaturally beautiful men, only to give birth to a monster nine months later. Of course he would feel ashamed of any sort of sexual desire. Perhaps he feared losing control of himself and hurting her in some way, not that he could.

Still, agitation crept through 2B’s gut, mingling with guilt into a nauseating slurry. A part of her wants to track 9S down and just have her way with him, a very large part. At least she still has enough sense about her to keep those kinds of thoughts down. Now if only there was something she could do about the heat coiling in her gut. She needs to distract herself, it seems like a decent idea to give 9S some space at the moment. He doesn’t need to be more overwhelmed than he already is.

The little blue stone burns in her pocket. Maybe if she had explained herself thoroughly and gone through with her original plan, things would have played out differently. Or at least 9S wouldn’t be terrified of her… She hopes she hasn’t ruined her relationship with him because of her own desires.

Ugh...she needs to clear her head.

2B stretches out her arms, takes a deep breath, prepares to transform and take to the skies. 9S can defile whatever foliage he decides to. She has much cleaner means of relieving tension like this. However, a strange scent piques her interest just enough to keep her grounded for a moment, and a moment is all it takes.

It hits her full force, hard enough to throw her off balance. She reaches out to a tree to steady herself as her whole world spins. Every thought in her head leaves her, only to be replaced by carnal thoughts.

Of course. Of course someone with his heritage would have such powerful pheromones.

Uneven breaths make her chest heave. She can’t think of anything else, not unless she focuses all of her energy on simple concentration. Her face feels hot, no...her whole body feels hot. Especially the coiling pressure in her lower abdomen. It isn’t a new feeling, but it’s the first time she’s felt it this strong and outside the safety of the Elder’s Sanctum.

It’s the first time she can act on it…

Just the thought makes her mouth go dry. She could easily overpower him, make him submit to her and-...

No. Her willpower is stronger than these base urges. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she ever brought harm to 9S. She brings her sleeve to her face which mitigates some of the smell. If she can calm herself she can get through this through sheer will alone. This is nothing compared to the days confined to the Elder’s with the other unmarried women in heat. All of those hungry women in one home… It still makes her shudder to think about sometimes. Those meditation drills were nightmarish, though useful in this situation.

Don’t focus on the tightness in the stomach. Don’t think about the twitching of the muscles. Pay no mind to the dryness of the throat, or how the mind swims with carnal intentions. Focus on the self and the connection to the living world. Each breath, each beat of the heart is deliberate and strong. Do not waver to the will of the base self; command the body as if it were a warrior.

Slowly her body begins to calm and her mind clears. A brief sense of pride fills her as she inwardly praises herself and Coatyl practices. Perhaps all that isolative training wasn’t for nothing, even after leaving her people.

That all comes crashing down once she hears the sounds.

Rapid, heavy breathing, the faint echoes of flesh against flesh. Hell, she could almost hear his heart beating.

In the back of 2B’s mind, it’s funny to her how easily her resolve shatters. All it took was some lewd sounds and she’s storming through the forest. It’s not like she’s going to hurt him or scold him. She just wants to talk, if anything to tell him he’s being stupid. They were both adults, surely they could have a conversation about this sort of thing. Though...perhaps humans didn’t have the level of education on sex and sexuality that she and her kind received.

As she trudged through the forest it became clear that 9S would be in massive danger if there were any large predators lurking nearby. Anything on the hunt for easy prey would be drawn to the scent and sounds of the distracted half-breed. He probably doesn’t hear her footsteps or the shuffling of plant life around her. What an idiot. If she were someone else, she could have easily killed him.

Following 9S’ scent and sounds is an easy task for 2B. She’s used to prey being silent and unseen aside from flickering shadows and the rustle of leaves. With all the noise he makes he might as well have laid a stonework path for her directly to him. Even so, the closer she gets, the harder it becomes for her to think of anything beyond tearing the clothes from his body and-

The sight of a shock of white hair in the brush, rocking back and forth against a tree halts her line of thought. As she approaches, more and more of the lewd scene is revealed to her. With one arm propping himself up against the tree, 9S’ other hand is obscured by his body. His arm shudders, moving in time with the rest of his body, his hips bucking into his hand every so often. A desperate growl reaches 2B’s ears and stirs something inside her. It’s similar to the feeling she gets when about to strike an unsuspecting fish, something primal and predatory. It makes her stomach churn with disgust.

She moves closer, drawn in by his overpowering scent once again. A part of her hopes that he’ll become aware of her, that he’ll turn around and reprimand her for sneaking up on him, but he remains trapped in his hedonistic fantasies. His head tilts to the side slightly and for a moment 2B thinks he’s heard her, only for him to roll his neck and dip his head back against the trunk of the tree.

Frustration over different kinds boils over. She can’t stand by any longer. She must act, and put an end to this stupidity.

“Enough of this,” 2B commands and takes a step forward. Her voice is strong, echoing off the surrounding trees.

9S whips around, his face crimson red, “T- 2B?! What are you- !!”

He scrambles to cover himself with his discarded coat as 2B strides forward. Only a yard or so and a few shrubs separate them now. 2B can feel her mind hazing over once again.

“The way you acting. The hiding, the shame. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m- 2B you-...,” he stammers and stumbles over his words.

2B can almost hear the blood surging through his body. It makes her mouth dry. She licks her lips before taking another step closer, “Are you afraid?”

“I…”

He looks like a prey animal, eyes wide and fearful, hands grasping at anything they can hold on to. 2B feels something tighten in her chest.

“Why bother to hide yourself. It’s no secret what you were doing.”

She reaches out to him, to the hand that holds his coat over his legs. As she takes his wrist in her hand she can feel the shivers wracking his whole body, and for a moment she thinks she may have made a mistake.

Suddenly, 9S’ body goes stiff with panic, “W- STOP!” he shouts and rips his arm away from 2B. He cowers against the tree, his fingers digging into the bark as if it would tether him to the earth.

2B finds herself without words, shocked by his sudden outburst.

“You can’t just...just do that! You don’t barge in on someone when-...” 9S’ face flushes a deep red as he shouts at her. His brow furrows and he even bares his teeth at her for a split second.

She bristles at his displays of aggression, but she can’t help but think, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he’s cute.

“I’m sorry,” she says dipping her head slightly yet grinding her fangs together.

“Well-...” he can’t hide his surprise but manages to maintain his outward anger, “Good.”

“I…” though the scents still cloud her mind, her better judgement resurfaces along with just a touch of shame, “I’m still learning these human customs. Your aversion to sexuality seemed useless to me. I thought...I thought if we could...fix this problem...you might be better off.”

“Fix...Did you mean-”

“I’ll leave you to your business, then.”

Before 9S can protest, she turns on her heels and steps over the small bushes that surround the tree he leans on.

“Wait! 2B hold on!” he yells and grabs at her arm.

His strength startles 2B, who stumbles backward.

“I...2B, listen…,” he says, bowing his head, “This...kind of thing with me...It’s complicated.”

“How?”

9S sighs, “It’s hard to explain. Since I don’t have...control...over certain abilities, I’m never sure. I don’t know if this is something I’m...making you feel, or if you're...if this is real.”

“I don’t understand.” 2B thought she made her intentions clear enough. Was there something she was missing? Some human courting ritual she never learned about?

“It’s got to do with...how I am,” he groans, “My incubus blood.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Are you aware of what that means?” He huffs, “What can I do?”

2B shakes her head, “What, does it make you dangerous?” She finds it hard to believe that someone as non threatening as he is could be a threat to her.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of. It’s...I can make people...feel things. I guess you could say I can influence their minds, but I can’t...control it very well,” his head dips low, “There have been times before where people...have gotten too close and…”

There’s worrying hesitation in his voice. He curls into himself slightly before looking up at 2B with tired eyes.

“They weren't in their right mind when...when things almost went too far. I don’t want that to happen with you.”

Ah, now she understands.

“I am aware of what I am doing,” she says, her shoulders squared proudly, “And I am aware of what I want. But…” she sighs, “If you wish to be left alone, I will leave.”

9S bites his lip and in that moment of deliberation 2B feels her gut twist in a way she had never felt before. Could she be...afraid of rejection? No, that’s silly. It must be the arousal.

“You sure?” 9S asks in a meek voice 2B nearly misses, “What you want...it’s not something I’m...making you feel?”

“Yes,” she lies.

A heavy silence passes between them. 9S stares at her, piercing near-white eyes searching hers for something she can’t place. 2B waits for him to move. She thinks it’s best to allow him to lead, at least to start. He still seems frightened by her, so she will hold herself back. How long that lasts, though, she isn’t sure.

9S reaches out to her, cupping her cheek with his free hand. His thumbs idly traces the patterns of her scales as he studies her face intently. She feels his breath, heavy against her face, just before he leans in and presses his lips against hers.

It’s a surprisingly chaste kiss at first, both of them testing the waters so to speak. He applies a little pressure which 2B matches. He savors the closeness, weaving his fingers through her hair. A low rumble echoes in her chest, almost like a purr.

“Your hair is so soft…” 9S mumbles against her lips.

Frustration with his slow progression draws another low growl from 2B. She presses her body against his, feeling his heartbeat speed up and something twitch against her thigh. He bumps against the tree he hid behind, his breath hitching slightly with tangible panic. Not wanting to scare him 2B backs off of him a bit and allows him to pull away from the tree. She draws 9S back into her by forcing his lips to part and biting gently on his lower lip.

9S shudders at the sudden addition of teeth, a tiny sound escaping him like the mewl of a kitten. It only fuels 2B’s own building desires. She cups his cheeks in her hands, her thumbs rolling over his jawline, chin, and halting over his throat. The lump in his throat bobs with each trembling breath, his blood surges through his veins. Something in the back of her mind wants it...needs it, to open. 2B presses her thumb against one large vein in his neck and wonders how the blood that pulses through it would taste.

Her wish is granted not moments later, as her sharp teeth pierce the thin skin of his lower lip. 9S whimpers a bit but a quick swipe of her tongue soothes the pain quickly. Unfortunately, the moment his blood hits her tongue it sets off a terrifying reaction within her. She rips herself away from him and stares down at a very bewildered 9S.

“2B? What- !!”

With a fierce snarl, 2B slams him back against the tree so forcefully that for a moment his vision blurs. Her mouth is on his mere seconds later, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. His pathetic mewls and body squirming against her own urges her to show more of her strength, to make him completely and utterly helpless, unable to put up any kind of fight. She wants total submission, and something tells her 9S will be more than happy to give it to her.

9S’ hands grab onto whatever part of her they can reach; one tugs at her hair, the other fumbling with her cloak and undershirt. Meanwhile her hands tear away his shirt with such frantic motions that her claws tear into his flesh. She breaks their kiss to scrape her teeth against his neck, revealing at the feeling of his blood thundering through his veins. It nearly drives her mad. His tail thrashes like an excited cat’s in response.

Once 9S recovers enough to retaliate, he worms his hands up 2B’s shirt. She shudders at his feather light touches as he traces the outlines of her muscles and scales. His touches are so reverent, a stark comparison to the way she manhandles him. Her hands twitch, aching to rip and tear him apart. She rakes her claws down his chest and begins to tug on the hem of his pants impatiently. Dimly she registers a wetness that coats the tip of her fingers but she pays it no mind, in fact it makes them tingle, as if they want more.

His hips rut against hers, desperately seeking relief, and 2B responds to it by crushing his body against the tree with her own. One hand dives beneath the hem of his smallclothes, gripping at his pronounced hip bones and teasing just above the base of his cock. The other hand pins his head back against the tree trunk, her claws digging into his scalp, marking him further.

“M-...ooore...please…” he begs.

Relenting to his touch, 2B shuffles out of her robes, leaving only her unbuttoned shirt, pants, and boots still on. 9S’ hands immediately move to her breasts and begin massaging them.

“Wh-...” 9S mumbles as he stares down at 2B’s body.

Her chest resembles a grown woman’s, but the hard scales remind him of her inhuman nature. With a curious glint in her eyes, 2B touches his chest, her clawed fingers lingering on a nipple. 9S’ breath hitches in his chest, betraying his sensitivity, so 2B ghosts the tip of her finger over it again. She remembers something 6O told her relating to these organs that female coatyls replicate in their human forms. Something to do with feeding their young. It isn’t important to getting what she wants from 9S, so she quickly abandons that train of thought.

“Down,” 2B commands, forcing 9S to sit in the dirt beneath her. Like an obedient pet he sits there, looking up at her with an expectant and exhausted look. Smears of blood cover his face and chest, but he doesn’t appear bothered by it at all. He doesn’t even look in pain. In fact, he looks just as hungry as she does.

Unable and unwilling to draw this out any further, 2B kicks off her boots and unceremoniously removes both her pants and 9S’ smallclothes. His cock twitches lewdly in the sudden cool air of the fast approaching night, and 2B feels her stomach tighten at the sight. In a show of courage that throws her off guard, 9S wraps his arms around her waist and presses soft kisses and vicious bites to her hips. Similar to her mimic breasts, the scales between her legs are thick, almost leathery to the touch. Even with his two pointed fangs, 9S’ bites barely pierce her skin, yet she lets out a low groan of approval and holds on to the nub-like horns that jut from his forehead.

Answering her demand from earlier in the day, the offhand comment that lead to this, 9S lets his unnaturally long tongue slide across her hips and dips between her legs. She instinctively parts her legs for him and tugs his head closer, urging him onward. Like an eager kitten he laps at her folds and occasionally slides his tongue inside her, just a bit. The sudden contact makes 2B dig her claws into the side of 9S’ head, staining his white hair with streaks of crimson. Though his motions are sloppy and frantic, 2B pulls his face closer and lifts one leg up to rest on his shoulder. Each time 9S hits a particularly sensitive spot with the tip of his tongue, the claws on her toes slice open his skin. Each spasm of muscle brings her leg down his shoulder, drawing more blood along the way. At one point her balance falters, and she accidentally drags her claws down his shoulder and chest, leaving deep gashes in their wake. To regain her balance she pushes forward on his chest, forcing him back against the tree and crushing her claws deeper into his chest. He bites his bloody lip to keep back a particularly loud moan.

9S looks up at her with dark, lustful eyes that mirror 2B’s. His mouth hangs open, breaths heavy on his lips as he begs wordlessly for her touch. She hastily kneels down, straddling his hips and positioning herself just over his aching cock. His bravery returns again, this time in the form of him bucking up to her. The tip of his cock just barely touches her wet folds, but the brief taste alone isn’t nearly enough for 2B. She slams his head back against the tree, pinning him to the bark, and slams herself down onto him.

They both cry out in surprise and pain. 9S writhes beneath her, his hands scrambling for any sort of purchase on her muscular body. His tail flicks wildly back and forth before winding around her waist.

“I don’t think…,” he wheezes, his voice hoarse and raspy, “You’re supposed to go that...fast.”

“Have you done this before?” 2B asks with a hint of a growl in her throat.

“N...No,” he admits. If he weren’t streaked with blood he might have been blushing, “Have you?”

“Not with a man.”

9S pushes himself up into her, using his hands as leverage. Taking the hint, 2B places her hands underneath his rear and holds him up. For a moment she takes notice of the heavy scarring near the base of his tail and wonders how those scars could have come to be.

They let instinct take over, which seems to counteract the awkward angle of their bodies. 2B grinds down onto his cock while 9S tries to thrust up into her despite being held in her iron grip. He finally moves in earnest when 2B’s hands grip onto his shoulders. Occasionally her claws rake down his back, causing him to cry out and arch his back into her nails. Each time his cock hits the same sensitive areas his tongue did mere minutes ago, she muffles her own cries by sinking her predatory teeth into his neck. Of course, he bites at her chest and shoulders as well, but her scales protect her from the little damage he can do.

“T-...I’m-!!”

Whatever 9S was going to say is cut off by a sharp whimper. He quickly buries his face in her breasts and clings to her, his hips bucking wildly and tail tightening its grip around her waist. Feeling the same tension and heat that she assumes 9S must be feeling, 2B draws one hand down between their bodies and hastens her own orgasm by furiously rubbing at the sensitive (and frankly neglected) nub. Just as she does, she feels 9S’ cock twitch inside her once, twice, and with a drawn out moan he comes. His entire body spasms in her grip and soon loses the tension that had built up within, but she isn’t done with him yet.

She slams him down into the dirt and pins him against the tree, the back of his head smacking into the bark. Her teeth sink into his neck again, marking him as hers over and over. The hand that isn’t between her legs digs into whatever flesh it can grab and marks him there as well. 2B rides his fast softening cock with the same ferocity as she would display in a fight to the death, and when the waves of pleasure finally wash over her, she clamps her teeth around the spot where his neck and chest meet. They will all know he is hers, that she is strong and has made him hers. She hisses as those waves disperse far too quickly, even though her muscles still spasm.

As the lustful haze disperses from her mind, 2B slowly rises from the ground. Even still, a wave of dizziness threatens to topple her. It’s only through willpower that she manages to remain standing.

With a deep and contented sigh, she turns to the rising moon and stars beginning to show themselves for the night, “We should hurry back. Don’t want you to get into trouble…”

As she looks down at 9S while hastily dressing herself, her eyes widen at the sight beneath her. It’s as if he had been attacked by some animal. Hideous jagged wounds cover his body, seeping blood onto the clothes he struggles to put on. His eyes are heavy, as is his breathing, and he looks far paler than normal. He looks up at her with glassy eyes and offers a smile of all things.

“Heh...Yeah…Don’t want-...” he groans as he pulls on his pants, covering the blooming purple bruises on his thighs and hips, “Jackass to...yell…”

The quivering waver in his voice sets 2B on edge. Something is wrong with him, he sounds weak. Too weak. As she reaches her hand out to help him stand, she recoils at the sight of her own blood stained fingers. In fact, nearly the entirety of her arms and even up to her chest is caked in fast drying blood.

Oh gods...what has she done?

9S rises to his feet, takes two shaky steps forward, and collapses onto the ground in a bloody heap.

“Tw...I don’t...feel good….” he wheezes.

2B believes herself to be unflinching in the face of any trail. It was what was instilled in her through years of rigorous training and studies. But the sight of 9S, crumpled and broken by her hands sends her into a panic. Her thoughts come and go faster than she can handle, all of her field aid knowledge seems to slip from her mind the instant she begins to wrap her robe around his body. It’s a crude way to protect his wounds from grievous infection, but it will do till she can get him to someone who knows what they’re doing.

And 2B knows just the person.

Luckily, most townsfolk are smart enough to stay inside at night, so 2B only ends up scaring the daylights out of the few guards and soldiers posted for the evening patrols. One of them calls out to her, but their cries fall on deaf ears, as she has only one focus at the moment.

As soon as 2B finds it, one solid kick to the infirmary door nearly breaks it off the hinges.

“6O!” she shouts, cradling 9S’ body close to her.

A chorus of grumbles from sleeping, bedridden soldiers answers her, followed by the sound of an annoyed druid storming up to her.

“What in the world do you need at this hour-...Is that Nines?!” 6O shouts, rushing over to his shivering body, “Good gods what happened to him?! To both of you?! You’re covered in blood!!”

“He-...I-...” 2B’s brain races to come up with some sort of explanation. She doesn’t want to get 9S into trouble, so she settles on the first lie that isn’t obviously stupid, “Bear. There was a bear.”

A strange look crosses 6O’s face for a moment, “...Okay. Follow me, quickly. Let’s get him down over here.”

2B follows 6O to a section of the infirmary closed off with a few curtains, possibly for more grievous injuries to be tended to. She sets 9S onto the small bed as instructed to by 6O, who immediately begins working. She removes the robe 2B wrapped him in, followed by his shirt and pants. Her hands alight with green energy as she prepares some healing spells to soothe his pain and help speed up recovery. 2B leans in close beside her, watching every movement 9S makes with hawk-like intensity.

“Is there anything I can do?” 2B asks.

“I need space right now,” 6O responds with a low, professional tone, “Go wait in my room, I’ll talk to you when he’s stable.”

“But-”

“Now, 2B. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

She’s known 6O long enough to know that when she speaks like that, there’s no arguing with her. Dutifully she exits the infirmary and silently makes her way to 6O’s quarters. A small washbasin sits near the druid’s bed, already filled. 2B cleans the blood from her hands and arms with a small rag that sits on the edge of the basin, then scrubs at her face. She lets her bloodstained clothes soak in the tub while she paces the room like a caged animal, waiting for 6O to return with news of 9S.

Each time she glances at the tub of murky red water, her stomach churns. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… She wasn’t supposed to hurt him. Yet she lost control of herself so easily…

Maybe she was a beast...just as they said…

2B isn’t sure how long it is before 6O returns to her, but it feels like days. She immediately rushes up to the Druid, who cleans her hands of blood on a wet rag.

“Is he okay?” 2B asks.

6O sighs and tosses the rag into the basin with 2B’s clothes, “He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s dehydrated on top of that. But Nines is tough, despite his size. He should be back on his feet in a few days.”

2B let’s put a long sigh of relief, “Oh thank the gods…”

“However,” 6O shoots a piercing look at her, “Those wounds looked nothing like a bear attack.” She turns to 2B and crosses her arms over her chest, “Want to tell me what actually happened?”

“I…” 2B never noticed how intimidating those green eyes of hers could be. There’s no use lying to her now, but…”You won’t get him in trouble, will you?”

“2B…”

She huffs at 6O’s scolding mother-like tone, “We had a...little rendezvous in the woods outside the city.”

6O’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head, “You-...Those are from sex?!”

“...Yes.” 2B says, flinching away from her.

“Good gods, 2B! If I didn’t know better I would have thought he was maimed by a demon! He could have died!”

She stays silent, eyes cast down to the stone floor. In other circumstances, she might have snapped back at 6O, but she deserves every bit of this for what she’s done to 9S.

“2B.” 6O calls, “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

“I said,” she repeats, “Did he ask you to stop?”

“No…”

“Idiot boy.” She mutters under her breath.

“I...I lost control of myself. I don’t know what came over me…it was like I just...I had to be...like that with him…”

Immediately, 6O’s expression softens, “Oh, 2B…”

Her pity makes 2B’s stomach flip. It’s the last thing she wants from anyone at this point.

“Look,” 6O says, sitting on the edge of her bed and motioning for 2B to do the same, “Even though he’s a bit more resilient than other humans, he’s still just as...squishy.”

“I know that. It’s just...I thought I had better self control. I didn’t mean to hurt him…”

6O wraps her arms around her dejected friend’s shoulders, “Hey, I told you he’s gonna be okay. Besides, if I know that weirdo, he probably enjoyed all of...that a little too much.”

2B lets out a breathy chuckle, “Probably.”

She drifts into her thoughts while 6O continues talking. The Druid might have her faults, but she is an expert at calming 2B down when she gets lost in her own mistakes. Gods know where all this patience came from. She idly plays with the hem of her undershirt until-

“Oh shit, I forgot to give him the rock.”