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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

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Not Today XXVI

A/N: So, there's gonna be a lot of plot here that we've sort of... seen in the show? But it is necessary to move the plot forward, and I hope I've changed it up enough to keep it interesting! I'm also hoping to focus a lot on the "behind the scenes" of Ivar's and Asta's plans, but also soon we'll be getting more answers to what the end of the last chapter means! Until then, I hope you enjoy this update! Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

They woke the next morning to the sound of bells, and to the feeling of Oleg shoving them slightly to wake them. “Ivar, Asta. Get up,” he said, and Asta grumbled and buried her face more into Ivar’s shoulder. His grip on her only tightened as she squirmed a little closer.

Oleg tried again, and this time, the pair stirred and looked up at him, irritation clear in their eyes- as well as a bit of exhaustion. “We have to leave,” he said, and went to wake up Igor, who still slept where Asta had put him to bed.

Once Asta had gotten up, and Ivar was sitting up as she went to straighten her hair, he began to speak. “I was dreaming, that my wine was poisoned, and that that’s the reason why I did not drink it,” he said, his eyes following her across the room. He finally tore his eyes from her to look to Oleg. “Why did you have to kill your brother?”

Oleg paused, turning back to look at Ivar. Asta had also stopped moving about and was now watching Oleg. He turned, looked to Igor, and answered, “Because this child belongs to me. Not to Askold, not to anyone else. His father made me his guardian.”

“What did Askold do?” Ivar questioned then.

“I heard reports,” Oleg said. “Askold was grooming the child. He was trying to steal him away from me. And that I could not allow.”

Asta noticed the way Ivar’s eyes narrowed, the look on his face which showed he didn’t quite approve. “He’s just a child,” he argued.

Oleg was silent for a few moments, before saying, “No,” and walking back toward Ivar. Asta leaned against one of the bedposts, her eyes following Oleg closely. “He’s not just a child. He’s the only legitimate heir. To control him is to possess the only keys to the Kingdom.” He stopped to look back at Igor, who was still sleeping soundly, before turning back to Ivar once more. “I mean to keep those keys safe about me.”

Ivar simply hummed in response, though he seemed skeptical. Oleg gave a nod, and then finally went back to Igor, who he began trying to wake, as Asta went to sit next to Ivar.

“Interesting thoughts about this all, hm?” she whispered to him in her own tongue. This earned another thoughtful hum from the Viking King as he turned to her.

“Indeed,” he replied. “I think… perhaps we should keep said keys safe about us as well, hm?”

“The child?” Asta questioned. “You mean to take him away?”

Ivar shrugged a little in the way that said he wasn’t closed off to the idea, even if he wasn’t fully agreeing to it just yet. “Perhaps,” he said. “Either way, it would be wise to be close to him.”

Asta nodded a little, and turned back to watch Oleg and Igor. Something the former said had scared the latter, but the sound of a horn blowing interrupted them all, and their attentions all looked out the window to see what it might have been.

“What is happening?” Ivar questioned Oleg.

Oleg sighed a little. “Seems like we have visitors,” he said vaguely.

The Commander came into the room and spoke to his Prince, making Asta and Ivar share a look, confused and concerned. Ivar decided to say something about this.

“Oleg, what is happening?” he demanded. “Hm?”

“I forgot to tell you,” Oleg began to reply, seeming almost put out. “I have another brother.”

Ivar and Asta’s eyes both widened. Another brother? They exchanged a look as Oleg added, “It seems like he wants to talk to us.”

Oleg almost stalked out of the room, and Asta and Ivar shared another look. This continued to get stranger, this situation. When they heard Igor slide out of bed and drop to the floor, they turned to see what he was doing, watched him hide behind the changing screen. Asta got up and walked over toward the boy as Ivar got to the ground and crawled toward him, Igor poking his head out to look at the two.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Ivar assured him. Igor looked outside, then back to him, and drug his finger across his throat, making a face as if pained, before hiding again.

Asta’s face contorted in concern, as Ivar turned to look over his shoulder, brows creased as he thought. Oleg’s brother would kill him.

“Should I stay with the boy?” Asta questioned, her eyes glancing down at Ivar. He looked up at her thoughtfully. After a few moments, he nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Be sure no one comes to hurt him. Hm?”

Asta nodded, and Ivar moved to start putting his braces on his legs. She moved to help him, and once they were done, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be here, love,” she told him. “Go.”

He smiled up at her and kissed her cheek, before going back to Igor. The sound of Ivar’s crutch growing quieter signaled that he was headed out of the room, and so she knelt down in front of Igor.

She waved, a way of saying hello, as she couldn’t speak his language, and he waved in response and said, “Pryvit.”

“Pryvit,” she repeated. She put her hand to her chest, indicating herself, and said, “Asta.” Igor gave a small nod, and repeated her name. “Yes, exactly.” Asta nodded and smiled warmly at him.

She got Igor to get ready for the day, just in case they needed to make a quick escape, and then moved him to another room, one with a warm fireplace and comfortable seating. Igor was relaxing, and Asta was sitting beside him, keeping an eye out for any signs of danger. Not that she was armed, but she didn’t require a sword to fight anymore.

It wasn’t long before they heard the sound of a crutch, and so they both looked up. Asta was grinning, and she gestured to Ivar. “Maðr minn,” she told Igor. She stood to go to Ivar, and kissed his cheek lovingly.

“Cholovik,” Igor said then, and Asta repeated the word.

Ivar gave her a tight-lipped smile and a short hum, coming into the room more. Igor gestured for him to sit on the small stool, and Asta went back to her seat beside Igor. Ivar was still smiling, but then he almost seemed to cough. The moment he coughed again, he leaned forward, and she realized he wasn’t coughing, but gagging. An image of Askold falling to the poison filtered through her mind, and she suddenly sound her heart pounding. He couldn’t have been poisoned.

Suddenly, he popped a small ball out of his mouth, which he then produced and looked at as if stunned. He coughed again and suddenly spat out two more balls, high up into the air, and he caught them both, before showing them all to Igor. The boy was laughing, and Asta relaxed a little. Ivar was fine, and only trying to play a joke on Igor.

Igor hopped up and ran to grab what looked like some sort of instrument, which he returned to his seat and began to play. While he was gone, Asta got up and wandered over to Ivar, her hands going to his shoulders and her chin resting on his head. “You scared me,” she told him. She pressed a kiss to his hair, and he turned to look up at her, humming.

“I did not mean to,” he said. He kissed her stomach as an apology.

The truth was, though they had kissed the night before, and though both had confessed things to the other, neither could be sure what exactly that meant for them, and it wasn’t as if they had time to discuss it. They kept up the affectionate relationship they showed to those around theirselves, but when it was only them? Who knew what would come of it?

Ivar relaxed quite a bit as he listened to Igor playing, and Asta couldn’t help but kiss his head once more. She knew how badly he’d wanted to be a father, and she wished so badly that his son hadn’t died. It made her heart ache to see how badly he still wanted it.

The sound of approaching footprints reached their ears, but neither of them looked away from Igor just yet. They wanted him to finish his song before they looked away. So, when he did, they all turned to look at Oleg. He said something in his own tongue to Igor, and then, “Asta, Ivar?” With that, he turned and left. Ivar gave a great sigh, pulling himself to his feet.

“Woof, woof,” Ivar grumbled, and Asta chuckled quietly. She turned to glance at Igor, who seemed disappointed, and so she reached down and brushed a hand through his hair. He gave her a small smile, which she returned, before leaving with Ivar to follow Oleg.

They walked into the main hall, though Oleg hung back, and so Ivar sat in one of the chairs at the table, Asta sitting to his immediate right. Many Queens sat to the left of their Kings, but not her. She was first and foremost his Prophet. She would sit at his right hand.

Oleg’s brother, who had been introduced to Asta as Prince Dir, was pacing the room as they waited on the Prince Regent himself. Eventually, he joined them, eating an apple. All eyes turned to him, and Dir said, “You have had two hours. What is your decision?”

Asta looked confusedly to Ivar, assuming he would explain to her, and he did. It was a quick explanation of the situation, how Dir was threatening Oleg and the two of them in exchange for custody of Igor.

“I told you,” Dir said to Oleg. “Hand over the boy, or I kill you and the cripple. And his Queen, as she has joined us.”

A glare narrowed Asta’s eyes as she sat up straighter, leaned over more toward Ivar. Clearly, she took that threat seriously, and didn’t intend for it to go through. Oleg gave a hum, and took another bite of his apple.

“Perhaps you have forgotten what I said. I said, ‘unless you release the four of us, unharmed, then in a day or so, a terrible thing will happen to you’.”

“I don’t believe you,” Dir replied. “You don’t really have second sight.”

“I think maybe you should believe him,” Ivar spoke up, watching the two Princes.

“What has this to do with you?” Dir questioned.

“Nothing,” Ivar said. He smirked. “Everything.”

Dir chuckled, unconvinced. “You are bluffing,” he told Oleg. “But let me give you the benefit of the doubt, and ask you a question only a true Prophet could answer.”

Asta and Ivar shared a look, considering she too was called Prophet. Would this be something he would want to test in her as well, or only in Oleg?

“I recently got married,” Dir said. “In secret.” Asta found her eyes darting to Ivar, only to find his eyes quickly looking back to Dir. So they’d had the same thought, then. Interesting. “The identity of my wife is only known to a few trusted servants. Not even Askold knew about my nuptials and the name of my wife. But I assume…” He turned slowly to face Oleg once more. “That you know. Don’t you, brother?”

He had approached Oleg, who was sitting on the table finishing his apple, but now stood to his full height, almost making Dir have to take a step back. Almost complete silence filled the room, aside from the natural sound which couldn’t be avoided. Oleg eventually confirmed, “I know your wife’s name. I know everything.”

He smirked and walked around to the side of the table, not noticing the skeptical look Ivar and Asta shared. He was eating their lies right out of their hands. How could he possibly know everything?

The brief realization that he could, in fact, be pretending occurred to them both, but they also both elected to ignore it. They’d rather survive this encounter first, then deal with Oleg later.

“What are you waiting for?” Dir ended up pushing. “Tell me her name.” When Oleg remained silent, Dir chuckled. “You see?” he called, turning to face his soldiers. “He doesn’t know her name. He’s bluffing after all!” He scoffed and gave a small shake of his head. “I knew it…You don’t know her name.”

“Anna.”

Ivar and Asta looked at Oleg when he spoke. Almost as quickly as they had done that, they looked to Dir for confirmation. They couldn’t see the way his face fell, especially as Oleg repeated, “Her name is Anna,” but the silence was telling as it was. “You were married at the church of St. Magnus Martyr here in Novgorod. I believe… this is the lady in question.”

He stepped aside, and Asta and Ivar turned to see a young woman standing there, clearly feeling quite anxious. Asta couldn’t hold in a gasp, and Ivar put his hand on her arm to calm her. She didn’t need to give away that she hadn’t known. After all, wasn’t she meant to be a Prophet, too?

Dir turned as well to face the girl called Anna, and the unsettled look that passed through his eyes made Oleg begin to laugh. “Am I right?” he questioned, though they all knew he had been. “This is your new bride, Anna.”

Ivar couldn’t help himself in applauding, though Asta did not. That seemed to be the image they gave off, these days. Ivar would approve of something Oleg might have done, and though Asta wouldn’t give her disapproval, she wouldn’t give her approval, either.

“Now, my dearest brother,” Oleg began. “You will give the four of us safe passage out of here, or my promise will come true.”

There were a few moments of tense silence, while all waited to see what Dir would do. Even he himself didn’t seem quite to know, until he commanded finally, “Order the warriors to stand down. Prince Oleg and his party should be untroubled when they leave, if they agree not to harm my wife.”

Ivar seemed stunned they were getting away with this, and Asta tried to just keep a small smile on her lips, as if she had expected this. Oleg, however, seemed almost offended, a bit concerned. “I don’t need to harm your wife,” he said, and then turned to her, calling, “Anna, come. Come!”

She ran from where she had been standing to Prince Dir, who wrapped an arm tightly and protectively around her. Asta chose to stand, and begin making her way toward the three gathered opposite the table from herself and Ivar.

“We meet so rarely, Dir,” Oleg said as she made her approach. “It’s unfortunate that it has to be in such circumstances. But the next time… will be different.”

“You have the boy,” Dir said, his eyes only briefly glancing over to Asta as she came to a stop beside Oleg. “You don’t need to see me again.”

“But we are family,” Oleg protested. “Family is important!” Dir took his wife by the arm and started to leave the hall, but Oleg called out his name. When his brother turned, he suggested, “We should stay in touch.”

“Perhaps,” Dir said vaguely. “Just don’t invite me for dinner.”

With that, they started off, but not without Ivar calling after them, “You forgot to say goodbye to the cripple!”

The door closed.

“Well,” Asta sort of huffed. “He was pleasant.”

“He is going to come for Igor,” Oleg said. “We need to return to Kiev, and we need to take control of the situation.”

Asta walked back to the table, which she rested her hands on and then leaned fully against. There was silence as they all thought, and she finally spoke up. “We need to move Igor to safety as well as eliminating the threat,” she said. “If we can capture Dir…”

“Yes,” Oleg agreed. “Then we will have all the pieces to this puzzle accounted for.”

“Then that’s what we do,” Asta said, and gave a curt nod, straightening again. “Ivar, let’s go get Igor. Oleg, be ready to go as soon as we’re ready. We can’t waste any time.”

Oleg nodded, and it was only once Asta and Ivar had left that he realized she had entirely taken over his plans. She knew how to command a room. Of course, she had been Queen in Kattegat- one of them- and he was beginning to believe she was the more militant of the two. Perhaps she had stood with Ivar in each war meeting, perhaps she had gone into battle with him each time he went. It certainly made sense- if one wanted to bring an entire room of Viking men to heel, they had to be able to command that sort of respect from them. He simply… hadn’t expected that from the previously rather quiet woman.

What else might she be capable of, that he would not expect?

“You are planning something.”

Asta couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she heard how good Ivar was getting at speaking her tongue. His fluency was improving, the more they used it to keep their words to themselves.

“Of course I am,” she replied. “I don’t trust Oleg as far as I could throw him, and I don’t like Dir. But having them both in Kiev, an eventual decision between them will be easier to make, and I want them both where an eye can be kept on them.”

Ivar’s eyes widened a bit, and he nodded. “You have a talent for strategizing, don’t you?” he commented, looking to her. Asta laughed a little.

“Of course,” she said. “How else do you think I actually convinced my brother to send me to Kattegat?”

He hummed as he considered that, and nodded. “The gods have… allowed much to be taken from me since that day you arrived,” he mused, walking along beside her. “But they have also given me the best ally I could have asked for.”

Asta shot him a look as if she were devastated. “Don’t tell me you buy into everything Oleg says?” she questioned, and Ivar chuckled.

“Of course not,” he said, and bumped her. “You know I meant you.”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “I just wanted you to say it.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, shaking his head in an affectionately amused sort of way. They’d be back to Kiev soon, and he knew her plans would work well for them. Letting Dir be captured and brought there would help them, in some way, eventually. But, they would take their time in getting to know the boy, Igor, and just as Oleg had said- he would be the key to all of this. They only needed to determine which door he would need to unlock.

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#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army #alex hogh andersen #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ivar x original female character #ivar x christian!oc #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #not today #chapter twenty-six

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jaehyun-eclipsed · 4 years

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Before I Met You | Twenty-One

Next Update: ~January 10, 2021

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

The following day, I woke up and began packing to go home for winter break. Jia had left early this morning to catch a flight back to Beijing, so I was left to my own thoughts about the upcoming lunch outing with Johnny.

I threw on some black jeans, a brown off-the-shoulder sweater, and black knee-high boots. I was finally able to go back to my norm of taking the morning to do my hair and makeup after showing up with minimal effort during finals week.

Yes, I wanted to look cute for this “date,” but I was also just happy to not look like I had just rolled out of bed before going out every day.

I meet Johnny in his room and walk out of the house together with Hendery who was on his way to the airport.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Hendery asks.

I’m taken by surprise because I thought Hendery knew Johnny and I were hanging out today, but quickly realizing that Johnny didn’t mention it, I’m not sure how much to tell him.

“Oh, um, Johnny and I are just hanging out today. I think he needs to drop off a book and then we’re gonna grab some food.”

“Oh.”

We wish Hendery goodbye, parting ways as he gets onto a bus heading to the airport. I follow Johnny to drop off his book and afterwards, we opt to grab lunch at my favorite Korean place near campus. The restaurant is basically empty midafternoon with the exception of a few students celebrating the end of finals.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” Johnny asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m me. I get involved with people that seem to have weird issues and the person I’m currently interested in has a girlfriend, and yet, I’m still hanging out with him.

Shrugging, I press my lips together before finally saying, “Haven’t found anyone I’m interested in, I guess.”

“What are you looking for then?”

“Someone respectable and smart. Someone I can talk to about anything,” I say. “Someone who isn’t going to have a problem with me having guy friends.”

“Having guy friends?” He quirks an eyebrow. “That sounds so specific.”

“Believe me, when you have guy friends whose girlfriends hate you, you learn quickly that you’ll need to find someone that doesn’t have severe jealousy issues.”

“Your guy friends’ girlfriends hate you?”

“Something like that.”

Johnny scrunches his face in confusion. “Why?”

I shrug. “I suppose they see me as a threat. Not really sure why. It’s not like I want to date their boyfriends.”

At least, that’s been true until now. Though, it’s not like I’m going to do anything to actively steal him. None of this, “you should leave you girlfriend and be with me.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t want me to have girl friends,” Johnny says.

“Oh.”

I wonder why. If I knew he acted like this around other girls, I guess I might understand.

“Does she not trust you around other girls or something?” I ask.

Ah ha. That was a loaded question.

“I guess so. She talked to all her friends and they said the same thing: boyfriends shouldn’t have any other girl friends besides their girlfriend.”

“That’s kinda…” —I grimace— “I don’t know how I feel about that. I feel about that. As long as you aren’t flirting with other girls, then I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to have other girl friends.”

“That’s what I said!” he exclaims.

Except, I’d argue that you are flirting with other girls, but that’s none of my business.

“Does she have other guy friends?”

“I don’t know. She says she doesn’t.”

I turn away briefly, hoping he doesn’t notice my look of skepticism. That sounds like a lie.

“Does she go here?”

“No, she’s going to a community college in Santa Clara. She’s trying to transfer to a CSU in SoCal.”

So that’s why we never see her around.

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost two years.”

“So you met in high school?”

“Yeah, she went to a different high school, but my friend introduced me to her and we used to meet up to study a lot during the school year.”

“Oh that’s nice. Do you see her often?”

“Like every few weeks when I go home or during breaks,” he says. “Do you want to see a picture of her?”

“Sure.”

Johnny pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of the two of them at a park. She’s decently pretty—a six and a half at best—but nothing particularly special.

My eyes narrow at him as puts his phone away and begins looking through his menu. Maybe he’s not trying to hit on me if he’s being so open about his girlfriend? But that doesn’t explain everything else that’s happened unless he’s just naturally flirty. I highly doubt that.

“I think I’m going to order bibimbap,” he says to me, putting the menu on the table.

I nod in acknowledgement. “I’m going to order the sundubu-jjigae. It’s cold out.”

“Do you want to do anything afterwards?”

His question catches me off guard. After learning more about his girlfriend and seeing how comfortable he is talking about her when prompted, I’m surprised he wants to continue hanging out. But perhaps this really just is a friendship.

“Was there something you wanted to do?” I reply.

He shakes his head. “What’s your favorite place around here?”

“Um, there’s a bookstore I like that’s a few blocks from campus…”

“Great! Let’s go there afterwards!”

After finishing lunch, we make our way to the south side of campus, surprised to come across a small street fair on the same street as the bookstore. The booths are decorated with fairy lights, creating a very cozy and romantic atmosphere at twilight. We browse the novelty soaps, keychains, and various trinkets briefly before squeezing through two booths to get to the bookstore.

“What kind of books do you like to read?” Johnny asks, trailing behind me as I browse a recent release table.

“Mm, mostly young adult fiction leaning towards the adventure side. I like dystopian novels. You?”

“I like reading nonfiction. I don’t really like fiction.”

“That’s a shame.”

I grab a recent release and begin flipping through it.

“Oh what’s this?” Johnny asks from behind me.

As soon as I turn around, a brown dog puppet is two inches from my face. Johnny is smiling down at me and moving his hand inside the puppet to make the dog look like it’s talking.

“Hi Y/N, my name is Coffee Bean! Will you read me a story?”

My mouth is agape in amusement, part of me unsure how to respond. I chuckle nervously and put down the book in my hand, and quickly scan the table next to me for the closest children’s book.

“Um, do you like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Coffee Bean?”

Coffee Bean nods his head enthusiastically. “Yes! Woof!”

I force a nervous smile, still uncertain as to how to respond to this other than to play along. I read a few pages of the book and look up at Johnny. “Do you really want me to keep reading?”

He laughs. “No, it’s okay.” He turns to Coffee Bean. “Did you like that Coffee Bean?”

“Yes!” Coffee Bean turns his head back towards me and presses his mouth against my cheek. “Thank you!”

I smile at him and begin walking towards another section of the store. That was weird. Cute, but weird. Sighing heavily, my mind flashes back to our discussion earlier about Johnny’s girlfriend. He clearly was very comfortable talking about her in front of me. Realistically, it probably would’ve been better for me to completely drop the idea of the two of us ever dating and stay away from Johnny because I didn’t want to get in the way. I’d certainly never want my boyfriend to do something like this.

Y/N, you are going to get hurt if you continue to hang out with this guy. This never ends well when you get involved with a guy who’s already in a relationship. He’s obviously not going to leave his girlfriend. And even if he did because he wanted to date you, wouldn’t it be a bad idea? He could do the same thing to you.

Johnny suddenly appears next to me. “So, it’s six o’clock. What do you want to do? You want to watch a movie?”

I blink several times, surprised yet again by Johnny’s continuing desire to hang out today. Most of everyone at the house has left, so I suppose it only makes sense. If we went back to the house and parted ways, there wouldn’t be anything for us to do on our own. I’d probably just sit in my room and watch a movie by myself.

“Sure… I guess. What do you want to watch?”

“Didn’t you mention that you recently watched some movie… Sally something?”

My forehead creases. “You mean, When Harry Met Sally?”

“Yeah! Let’s watch that!”

What? He wants to watch a rom-com?

Okay, movie and that’s it. You shouldn’t hang around him anymore and after today, you won’t even need to see him.

“Okay then. We can watch in the piano room,” I say. “I don’t have an HDMI cable to hook up to the TV, but the couches are comfy.”

He hums in thought. “Can we just watch in your room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

Um, there must be something about a guy wanting to hang out alone with you in your room to watch a movie, right?

“Like, we sit on the bed?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I bite the inside of my lip. “Okay.”

“Okay! I’ll bring snacks!”

“This is my blanket now!” Johnny grabs my fleece blanket and stuffed dog off my bed and begins hugging it. “This is mine now too.”

He jumps up onto my bed and crawls into the corner, wrapping himself in the blanket and hiding the plush underneath. He cracks into a wide grin and I can’t help but begin to pout a bit, feeling rather protective over my stuffed toys.

“So what do I get?”

“I brought pistachios and cookies,” he says, gesturing over to the snacks he placed on my desk. “You can have those.”

I glance at the packages and then turn back to face Johnny, dissatisfied with the consolation prize. I pout again. “But I’m not hungry. I’m cold.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pretending to ponder as he holds a playful smile on his face. “Okay, I guess I can share with you.”

I scoff in amusement. “Share? That’s mine!”

A cheeky grin makes its way onto his face. “You said you were cold. It’s easier to stay warm if the blanket is already warmed up!”

I roll my eyes and bite back a smile as I go to set up the movie on my laptop. Slowly, I make my way onto my bed and Johnny trades me my laptop for my blanket. I make no comment as I wasn’t keen on sharing my blanket in the first place anyway.

Before leaning against the back wall, I turn to look at him. “Do I get my dog back too?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, I think he likes me better.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, letting out a huff and crossing my arms as I move to sit up against the wall.

Our arms are touching, which is to be expected since we’re attempting to share a twin-sized bed. I’m a bit distracted, not really focusing on the movie, but rather on the predicament I see myself in. Clearly, Johnny has no problem with taking my personal belongings or sharing a bed with me. Originally, I thought we would sit up against the wall length-wise, giving both of us plenty of space not to make any physical contact with each other. But instead, Johnny had other plans and also wanted to use my pillows. So here I am, watching a rom-com with a guy that I happen to like and find very charming, is very kind and playful, but I am very uncertain as to where I stand.

After a while, Johnny hands my dog back to me and I pretend to be unfazed by the famous fake orgasm scene in the movie. What an awkward thing to watch with a guy I barely know.

When the movie ends, I shut my laptop and hop off my bed to put it back on my desk. Johnny crawls over to the other end of the bed, lies on his side and hangs his legs off the foot of my bed. I seat myself back against the wall and pull out my phone.

“So now what?” I ask.

“Um, you said that you’re good at giving advice, right?” Johnny responds.

I lift my head up from my phone and turn to look at him. “Uh, I mean, my friends ask me for advice a lot. So maybe?”

It’s quiet for a moment as Johnny contemplates whether to ask me for advice and how to formulate his question. My thumb scrolls through Instagram, though my mind is somewhere else as I wonder about what Johnny could want advice on. Life? Career? School?

“I’m not really sure what to do about my girlfriend,” he finally says.

That’s not… that’s not what I want to talk to you about.

“What do you mean?” I ask, keeping my gaze on my phone.

“I’m… not really happy with her.”

I swallow nervously. “Why not?”

“You know how I told you earlier that she doesn’t like me having girl friends?”

Can’t imagine why.

“Yeah?”

“It’s stuff like that. She gets upset with me and it’s hard to talk to her. She doesn’t really apply herself in school and doesn’t have a lot of ambition.”

I keep my facial expression neutral, but I’m already not impressed with this girl.

“Just out of curiosity, what do you parents think of her?”

He shrugs. “My dad doesn’t care and my mom keeps asking me when I’m going to get a doctor or lawyer girlfriend.”

“Sounds like your mom doesn’t really like her.”

“Well, my mom likes her, but…”

“She wants you to find someone she thinks is better,” I say, finishing his sentence.

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly.

Yeah, so basically she doesn’t like your girlfriend.

“What’s her name?”

“Minji,” he responds. “We’ve already broken up twice.”

God, he sounds like Siwoo.

“Why?”

“Because she didn’t like my friend Hyoyeon.”

“Who’s she?”

“She’s my friend from high school,” he says. “She’s two years younger and we were friends in band.”

“Did you like her or something?”

“What? No!” he says emphatically. “She’s like my little sister, but we hung out a lot together.”

I take in the information to create a coherent story. “So… Minji was jealous because you spent a lot of time with Hyoyeon and Minji got angry or something… and you guys broke up because of that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Why did you get back together?”

“The first time was a year ago and I missed her so I thought we could make it work. Then a couple months later, we got into a fight and I broke up with her again, but then I thought I made a mistake so we got back together,” he says. “So what do you think I should do?”

I sit there, staring at my bed spread, trying to figure out how to respond. There is a conflict of interest. I am obviously interested in Johnny and would definitely like for him to be single so that I can date him, but I also do not want to tell him that he should break up with his girlfriend because I’m afraid that I can’t be totally objective in this situation. Personally, if this had been Siwoo, I would’ve told him to break up with her. Perhaps Siwoo is not the best example, but that’s what we have to work with. Johnny’s not happy with Minji and he’s obviously flirting with another girl he likes more. What’s the point of prolonging it?

What’s with me in having guys with girlfriends being attracted to me?

Either they’re unhappy or unsatisfied or I just have a lot more power than I thought. The other explanation is that they’re just assholes.

Wow, Y/N, now you just attract assholes? That must say something about your personality.

Attempting to be as objective as possible, I decide to say the most neutral, yet important, thing I can.

“People don’t change, Johnny.”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re upset with the jealousy and the lack of ambition or whatever, that’s not going to change,” I say. “People only change if something drastic happens that causes them to be different.”

“So… are you saying I should break up with her?”

My eyes widen. “No, no,” I say quickly. “I did not say that. I’m just telling you that people don’t change. So it’s up to you whether or not you think it’s something you can handle.”

He’s quiet for a bit and then turns to look at me. “Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?”

“That people don’t change.”

I nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“But I’m different now from a few years ago. I know a lot of people I grew up with who are different now.”

“Fundamentally, people don’t change. Yeah, you might pick up some new habits here and there, but generally, it’s hard to change unless you know there’s something you need to change,” I say. “And acknowledgement is only the beginning. You have to want to change too. If you don’t, then it doesn’t make a difference.”

“So, you don’t think Minji is going to change at all?”

I’m hesitant to make any comments specifically concerning Minji. So I give another open-ended answer. “If she thinks something needs to be changed and wants to, then maybe.”

In thinking about it, Siwoo is the perfect example here. No matter how many failed relationships he gets into, he never changes his behavior. Get together with one girl, cheat on her or treat her horribly, break up, feel bad for about two seconds, rinse, repeat. Somehow, it never fazes him.

I often wonder if there’s one girl out there that would break his heart enough that it would cause him to change. Even a little bit.

“I’m going to break up with her,” Johnny says after some time.

I look at him and say nothing.

“Yeah, I think it’s time to break up with her,” he says again.

“It’s your decision.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I know. I’m supposed to see her on Monday, so I’ll do it then.”

I remain silent and keep my facial expression neutral. If Johnny actually follows through with it, I’d be happy. But I don’t want to be the reason he breaks up with her. That’s not my place.

“Thanks,” he says and smiles. “You are pretty good at giving advice.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remark. “Sure.”

I put my phone down and lie back onto my pillow at the head of the bed. Crossing my arms across my chest, I close my eyes as a sudden drowsiness overcomes me. I hear some shifting at the end of the bed.

“Are you tired?” Johnny asks.

“Mm, a little,” I mumble.

A blanket is gently draped over me and I hum a quiet “thank you.” Everything is still and peaceful, but I can tell that Johnny is watching me.

And then he asks me a question.

“What if I told you I like you?”

My eyes shoot open in shock and Johnny is smiling down at me, a hopeful look etched into his features. I stare at him for a moment and knit my eyebrows together, having been rendered speechless by his confession.

My lack of response causes a bit of a panic in his eyes and he asks another question.

“Is that good or bad?”

Trying to remain calm, I close my eyes as if his question hadn’t just shocked me.

“It’s okay…” I respond.

Though my eyes are closed, a small part of me is laughing inside, half-aware that my unenthusiastic and non-idealistic response is not how he anticipated this to play out.

“So…” The unsteadiness in his voice is detectable. “What about you?”

“I do,” I answer simply.

“You do what?”

“I do like you.”

I open my eyes again and there’s a shy smile on his face.

“I think you’re really cute and I enjoy spending time with you and I want to keep spending time with you,” he continues.

He climbs up towards the front of the bed and lies with his back against the wall. I feel an arm reach around my waist.

“You—you can’t do that,” I say.

Johnny slowly removes his hand. “Why not?”

“You’re still with someone else.”

My voice is unsteady and I don’t trust it. But quite frankly, I’m not sure I trust my own judgment either.

I shut my eyes again, unable to fight the fatigue. A few moments pass before Johnny speaks again.

“Can I stay here?”

Y/N, you know that he shouldn’t.

“Yes.”

He pushes himself up off the bed and climbs over me. His feet land on the floor with a thump and he flips off the light switch. He quickly climbs back onto my bed and places himself where he was before. I’m on the edge of the bed and there’s about a foot of space in between the two of us. I hear him shuffling around and suddenly there’s a hand lightly resting on the exposed skin of my waist.

“No, you can’t do that,” I say more forcefully. “You’re still with someone.”

He quickly removes his hand this time and then says, “I think I’ll leave you alone then.”

He climbs off the bed again and I remain still until I hear the door open and close. Then I’m alone.

I slowly sit up. There’s a thin stream of moonlight peering in through the missing blind. Looking around the room, there’s enough light to see that Johnny had left his bag of pistachio nuts and the package of cookies on my desk. Biting my lip, I decide to go brush my teeth and wash my face, but when I look at my reflection in the mirror, I feel scared.

What are you doing?

What are you supposed to do with this confession?

Hell, you confessed yourself.

There’s a part of me that feels excited that a boy of interest has returned my affections, but suddenly I’m finding that I don’t know how to process it. I’ve had plenty of confessions before, but this is different and I don’t know why.

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Before I Met You Masterlist

Masterlist

#nct #nct 127 #jung jaehyun #na jaemin #mark lee #johnny suh #lucas wong #wong yukhei #nct lucas #nct jaemin #nct jaehyun #nct mark #nct dream #wayv #superm #before I met you

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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Amoureux (c.s./d.s.) - Chapter Thirteen

A/N Hmmm...

Neither Louisa nor Christian brought up their small argument again, pushing it to the past and choosing to start new. Nothing changed, however, and Christian was set in his ways that they were to follow societal rules that an engaged couple was expected not to pass. Louisa started to not care as much since she was getting that little missing piece from his brother anyway; no strings attached, that bit of added secrecy only adding to the thrill.

It was no doubt that Louisa still loved Christian though, the diamond ring that was still on her left hand was proof of that, and she spent nearly every waking moment with him. Well, moments that she wasn’t sneaking off with Daniel to the back staircase to make out, returning to her fiancé with a blush he didn’t clue into and a cheeky smile he never bother to question. As the days ticked into weeks and summer was coming to its steady conclusion over England, Louisa caught herself wishing that Daniel would come to whisk her away more often than not.

September afternoons were spent in the garden for tea and allowed Louisa and Christian to have some quiet time together among the flowers as the gardeners worked. He often sat on a blanket on the grass between the flower beds, Louisa laying with her head in his lap as he brushed his hand through her hair and read to himself. The young woman often napped peacefully or weaved a few flowers together to make little crowns or decorations, a few of which were still sitting on the top of Christian’s bureau in his bedroom, a tad wilted after so long being picked, but he didn’t want to part with the sweet little haphazard gifts.

“May I read you a poem?”

Louisa glanced up at Christian from her flower crown she was twisting together with picked daises, her head resting on his thigh and she smiled up at him and nodded.

“This one is one of my favourites. It is by John Keats,” Christian let his hand fall into hers and she linked her fingers through his, letting him trace her fingers gently with his as he read,

“The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!

Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,

Warm breath, light whisper, tender semi-tone,

Bright eyes, accomplish’d shape, and lang’rous waist!

Faded the flower and all its budded charms,

Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,

Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,

Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise –

Vanish’d unseasonably at shut of eve,

When the dusk holiday – or holinight

Of fragrant-curtain’d love begins to weave

The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight,

But, as I’ve read love’s missal through to-day,

He’ll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.”

Christian looked back down at her from his leather-bound book, as if expecting her praise in response.

“It is lovely.” Louisa said softly, tucking her hand into his and kissed his knuckles.

“It is quite sad.” Christian added. He looked back to the pages almost with adoration. “He describes the woman that left him, leaving his life empty and void as if everything has lost purpose and meaning without her. As if he ought to mourn not her personal death per se, but the death of the love he cherished with her.”

“Goodness.” Louisa chuckled lightly. “It is sad.”

“But beautiful. Keats has such a way with his words; it is truly astounding.” Christian said. He moved his hand from hers to her hair and twisted her soft curls around a finger. “I should write you a poem one day.”

“What would it be about?” Louisa asked, staring up at him.

“How lucky I am to have been put out to marry the most beautiful girl in all of Europe.”

Louisa laughed shyly at his attempt at flirting, smacking him lightly with the unfinished flower crown in her hand. The garden gate opened with a creak and the couple looked over to see Daniel making his way over to them, a wide smile on his face as he plopped himself onto grass beside Christian.

“Hey.” Daniel said softly, crossing his legs and picking at the grass.

“Hey, Dani.” Louisa smiled, turning back to her flower crown.

“Did your lessons finish early?” Christian asked his brother, still twirling his fingers through the ends of Louisa’s hair.

“Yes. I figured I’d join my favourite brother in the garden before the weather gets too cold.” Daniel shrugged.

“Favourite brother.” Christian scoffed, shaking his head as he looked back to his book. “I don’t believe that.”

“Oh, yeah, because I love our dead brother that I never met more than you.” Daniel rolled his eyes, giving Christian’s shoulder a shove.

“Do not say things like that.” Christian sighed. “That is so impolite.”

Louisa glanced between them as she worked quietly, her head still resting on Christian’s lap.

“What? It’s not like he can hear me.” Daniel grumbled, tugging up a handful of grass.

“He can; in Heaven.” Christian smacked the grass out of Daniel’s fist. “Stop that.”

“Right.” Daniel rolled his eyes, wiping his hands on his trousers. “My bad.”

Christian shook his head with annoyance and turned back to his book. Daniel glanced at Louisa and she bit back a small smile, chuckling quietly to herself as she finished her little project. She sat up and set the thin crown of daises on Christian’s combed hair, Daniel watching her silently, expressionlessly, as she grinned at her handy work and pressed a kiss to her fiancé’s cheek.

“Thank you, darling.” Christian smiled, tucking an arm around her and she curled into his side.

Daniel frowned, going back to picking at the blades of grass with a bit of slight aggression.

“Daniel, can you please not do that?” Christian dropped his book to his lap to grab his little brother’s wrist. “These people put a lot of work into making the gardens look nice and they do not need you destroying it.”

“You’re already squashing it under your bum.” Daniel retorted, a blush coming to his cheeks as he was being scolded by his brother in front of Louisa.

“Just go play somewhere else and stop bothering us.” Christian ordered.

Daniel threw the handful of grass onto Christian’s open book and over his lap before standing up, “I bet Tyler wouldn’t have been such a boring pretentious asshole all the time.” Daniel said under his breath as he trudged back out of the garden towards the grounds.

“I’m sorry about him.” Christian said to Louisa.

“It’s okay.” she shrugged, glancing over her shoulder to watch Daniel disappear amongst the flowers and trees a bit of a ways away. She turned back to Christian and sent him a reassuring smile.

Daniel walked all the way down to the second gardens closer to the stables to pick a few flowers for Louisa, grumbling under his breath to himself about betting that Christian never brought her flowers. He got down there only to find the garden nearly empty and the gardeners raking out the soil.

“Where is all the lilac?” Daniel asked.

The gardeners stood up to bow to him before one answered, “We were instructed to transplant this garden closer to the pond. The flowers are already moved to the greenhouse for the time being.”

“I literally just need one flower.” Daniel groaned with annoyance.

“We have a few small ones here, Your Royal Highness.” the gardener gestured to a pile of garden scraps, a few wimpy white flowers laying over the top of it.

“Fine. That will do.” Daniel grabbed one and rushed back off towards the main palace gardens. He picked at the dried leaves as he walked, the tiny flower barely bigger than his thumbnail. He wanted a good bouquet of lilac but he was stuck with one wimpy flower that was barely even alive. Even still, he was determined to make a point, showing that he cared for Louisa more than Christian and his lame poetry.

Daniel jumped over the garden gate, stopping in his tracks as he found Christian and Louisa missing, the patch of grass only showing the imprint of where they once sat, the couple already gone inside to prepare for supper. Daniel frowned, looking down at the small flower in his hand and tossed it to the ground with a huff. It was stupid to even think he could win her over with a flower anyway. He needed something better.

The thought that surfaced in his mind made a cheeky smirk come to his face and he rushed off inside to finish it in time to make it to supper.

Louisa retired to her bedroom after dinner and a visit in the parlour with the family. Mary helped her undress and get into her night gown and brush out her hair before leaving her to get into bed for the night. Louisa washed her face in the wash basin and walked over to her bed, only to find a letter tucked just under the sheets against her pillow. She glanced at the door as if waiting for someone to reveal themselves but she was still alone and she climbed onto her bed and pulled out the folded piece of parchment, sealed with the official red wax seal of the British Royal Family. Louisa was bursting with excitement and she tore the seal and unfolded the paper to read.

Her eyes went wide as she read the contents, the words scribbled messily onto the paper between ink splatters making a blush come to her cheeks. She had to put down the letter for a moment to regain her composure, pressing a hand to her racing heart, before laying forward and continued to read, shock still etched over her face. The words were nothing less than artistry, flowing together in beautiful sentences that expressed the most lustful contents, disguised nicely under polite sweet talk.

Louisa didn’t know what she expected, but the messy signature of

Yours truly,

Daniel

at the bottom, framed with an ink spill at the corner, was not it. She bit back a cheeky grin, her cheeks flushed a brilliant red as she got up from her bed and sat down at her desk, placing the letter gently beside her as if it was a delicate and prized possession. She set a blank piece of parchment in front of her and dipped her quill in the ink pot gently before beginning to write her reply by candlelight.

When she was finished, Louisa folded it up and dropped some of the dripping wax from her candle onto the edge and pressed her thumb into it to seal it. She rang for Mary, hiding Daniel’s letter in one of the desk drawers as she waited for her lady in waiting.

Mary knocked before entering, “Is everything all right, miss?”

“Just fine. I would like you to deliver this to Prince Daniel. Must go right to him. No one else.” Louisa held out the sealed letter to her.

“As you wish, miss.” Mary’s curiosity was apparent in her voice, but she took the letter with a soft smile and headed out across the palace. Louisa closed her bedroom door behind her and bit back her smile as she leaned back against it, her mind swirling with thoughts she didn’t even know were possible. None of which were about Christian.

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thedasdrabbles · 4 years

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Slices of Life - Modern AU Thedas Valentines

He didn’t go all out for every holiday. Some didn’t have the same feel behind them, the same groove. Valentine’s Day was one where he put a little extra in, though -- in part because at first he hadn’t thought his lover would expect it and now because he liked to keep the expectations high and the anticipation just on the edge of heart pounding and breathless. He’d left a card tacked to the door for his lover to find when he made it home, a trail of flower petals starting in the foyer and leading up the stairs. The hall was dark save for the gently flickering glow of tiny LED candles that he’d left along the stairs, lighting the way for Ferion to follow.

The trail led to their bathroom where there was another card, its contents brief and naughty with a post-script that contained promises of more scandalously wicked to come.

Get cleaned up, get comfortable and come find the rest of your present whenever you’re ready. - Bull

Alongside the card atop a neatly folded towel was a fresh bar of Ferion’s favorite soap, a new container of the scrub he had mentioned enjoying the last time Bull had brought it home, a small, unopened bottle of lube and a plug, weighted nicely with a heart-shaped flare. It was easily enough to imagine what the rest of his ‘present’ might be from there.... The rest of the night was going to be good. Bull would make sure that he’d get it nice and hard to counter all of the soft. He always did, and each Valentines Day they spent together made it seem like he always would.

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

Rylen didn’t do romance, at least that was what he always said. He had other ways of letting Cullen know that he loved him throughout the year and early on in their relationship they’d come to terms with the fact that Valentine’s Day wasn’t really for them. It meant that neither of them took issue with the fact that as part of his work rotations his travels typically had him out of town over that holiday; something that he was more than alright with as it meant he was back for the ones that meant more to them.

It didn’t mean that he spent Valentines alone, however. Why waste a perfectly good night centered around fine dining, fine wine and lingerie alone when he could spend it in the company of Miranda…

He’d promised to keep his eyes closed after dinner -- a dinner they’d had delivered to his room rather than eating out this time, neither one of them of a mood to deal with the typical crowds drawn to high-end restaurants even if they could have worked a private dining room into their expenditure budget. She’d talked him into wearing a tie that night and he was painfully aware of its closeness, each draw of breath making him all the more aware of it along with the knowledge that he could hear her moving around, breath catching when he caught a trace of her perfume drifting closer.

When he felt her fingers tug at the tie to loosen it he almost opened his eyes, knowing with the way she had to have leaned in he would have gotten a glorious eyeful of the tops of her breasts spilling over whatever she was wearing -- either the dress she’d donned for dinner or whatever she had on beneath it. He closed them tighter, though, knowing she hadn’t yet told him he could peek yet and the resulting laughter, sultry and sweet like honey was entirely worth it just like the rest of the night would be…

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

The kitchen was filled with laughter, music lightly floating through the background. Her sides were starting to ache but it felt so good that she didn’t care. Eli leaned back into Cullen’s arms, cheeks rosy and warm as she tipped her head to rest against his shoulder, peering up to him. She couldn’t remember ever being with anyone who’d made her feel this way before -- so light, so loved. It must have shown in her eyes as they met his because she only had a second to process the desire that shifted through his amber eyes before he was kissing her breathless.

With a soft gasp followed by a low moan she turned, slipping her arms around his neck. Before she knew it his hands were on her hips, lifting her to set her on the counter. He seemed to take a second to breathe, the briefest of pauses to make sure she was alright and that there was no trace of protest before he was kissing her again. If kissing Rylen was like drowning in desire, kissing Eli was like a rush of spring air, warm and gently demanding in the most wonderful of ways. He couldn’t imagine his life without either of them, but he was so grateful for moments like this, that he could have moments like this.

Cullen drew back slowly, touching his nose to hers, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth only to lean back, smiling. His smile brought the light of the sun to his face, warm and just a bit sheepish. “This isn’t going to get the rest of dinner put away.”

“Says the man who put me up here,” she laughed, closing her eyes in an attempt to find her breath, always amazed by how easily he could take it away. From the den she heard a woof which drew another soft, breathless laugh. “See… Sari agrees with me.”

“Traitor…” He muttered beneath his breath, acting cross for the briefest of moments before kissing her again. They’d get back to the leftovers sooner or later… Probably later…

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“We’re going to miss our reservations.” He’d made plans this year, just as he tried to make plans every year. For Garret Hawke plans were often things to be shuffled around or rescheduled, especially when they involved plans with Anders. The medic had gotten much better over the years, started taking better care of himself, dropped a few bad habits and picked up a handful of others that were less detrimental to their relationship. It wasn’t always easy, but they’d made things work after a fair amount of growth and work between them.

“We’re not going to miss our reservations. They’re not for another hour and a half, Hawke -- that’s more than enough time for me to finish getting dressed, make sure Liberty and Barkus have had their Valentine’s treats and be on our way.” His lips pursed together into a pout as he looked over to the other man after pulling his shirt down over his head, taking the time to smooth wrinkles that weren’t there out of it. He loved Garret desperately and it had taken him more time than it should have to come to terms with that, even longer to come to terms with the idea that he could be loved that fiercely in return. Spending a day with him meant everything… Spending this day with him meant more.

“We are going to miss our reservations if you keep looking at me like that while looking like that, though.” Hawke grinned as he stepped up, slipping an arm around Anders’ middle as he planted a kiss on the corner of the other man’s mouth. “Check your hair once or twice more, like I know you’re going to do, grab that necklace you’ve changed your mind on twice… This shirt is fine. It was fine the last time you put it on before you tried something else and it will go well with that coat that you love that you swear doesn’t match the jeans you have on, but it does. I’ll feed your cat and Barkus and then we’ll be on our way. Dinner and a movie. Normal Valentines. Promise.”

“Normal?” His heart swelled as he looked at Hawke, reaching up to rest a hand alongside the other man’s face. He leaned in to brush a soft kiss to the other man’s lips, his expression radiating all of the love and affection he had found a hard time giving voice to for so long. “Nothing about being with you is normal, Hawke… And that’s part of what I love about it. About you. About us...”

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

He approached the tub with two glasses of wine, holding one out to his lover and waiting for him to take it before reaching down to trail his fingers through the water. It was warm enough that it would feel wonderful, the steam already reminding him that Ryn’s next business trip would take them somewhere away from the snow that had fallen outside. They’d stayed in that night, not wanting to get caught out if it came back with a vengeance -- an excuse on his part, really. In truth, he’d just wanted Ryn to himself.

He set his glass down on the edge of the tub as he stepped up and into the water, seeming entirely satisfied as he sank down into it opposite the other man. He nudged his lover’s hip with his foot as he leaned back, retrieving his glass to take a sip. “This? This is the life, amatus. Warm, comfortable, quiet dinner at home, wine… You.” His smile was warm, eyes only for the man sitting across from him. He’d known that Ryn was the type of man he could easily find himself falling for almost from the start but he hadn’t expected them to be so good together, so good for each other.

He took another sip of his wine, easing back again and closing his eyes. It was a moment before he heard the soft clink of a glass being set down across from him, the shift of water moving around him as Ryn leaned forward, kneeling between his knees. He opened his eyes in time to see the other man leaning in, following his lover’s movement as he plucked the glass from his fingers and set it down as well. When he felt Ryn’s lips press against his he pressed back, fingers sliding into the other man’s hair to draw him down closer. Ryn was the best part of this, the best part of everything. Ryn made their house home, made wherever they went when he traveled somewhere that he wanted to be.

Dorian often thought that Ryn was a better man than him, had thought at first that Ryn might be too good for him -- too good to be true. They’d unearthed flaws, grown and evolved and now they were so good together. Their romance was the kind meant for lifetimes, not just for a single day, and he intended to make sure that Ryn knew that in every way.

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“Tethras Investigations.” He’d kicked back in his chair, heels on the corner of his desk, the pages for the novel he’d been working on tucked into folders on the opposite side. He had a deadline to meet, but deadlines could wait. Deadlines meant little when it came to spending Valentines with the light of his life, especially when it came to having the opportunity to dress up while doing so.

He reached up to tip his at up just enough that he could get a good look at her as she came in the door. For a second he lost character -- more than a second, honestly. It was going to take a beat or two for him to pick his jaw up off of the floor. “Shit, Gadget, you didn’t tell me you were going that far out. If I’d’ve known I would’ve done more than just put together some things from my closet…” He caught himself as she clicked her tongue to chastise him, clearing his throat in an attempt to find his character again. “What can I do for you, doll?”

His eyes followed her as she sashayed towards his desk, the glamor of the vintage fashion suiting her far better than he would have expected. He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected that, really, given how good she looked in just about everything she put on. If the Renaissance Festival had been any proof of that, well…

“I’ve heard you’re good at what you do, possibly the best.” She made her way around to his desk, nudging his feet down off of the corner so she could take a seat on the edge of it. Grinning, Lani leaned back on one hand, resting a foot on the chair between his thighs. “Tell me, Mr Tethras… Are you the best?”

She was going to be the death of him, the absolute utter death of him. He cracked again, for a shorter spell this time, recovering by holding her gaze as he rested his hand on her calf as he leaned in to brush his lips to her knee. “That all depends, ma’am, on what you’ve heard I’m the best at… Why don’t you let me know and we’ll go from there? All I’ll say up front is that I never leave a job unfinished or a dame unsatisfied.” That was enough to trip her up, his knack for witty dialogue and bad one-liners finally coming through. The resulting laughter was well worth it.

Shit, everything with her was worth it. She’d done so much for him in the time they’d known one another, drawing him out of a bottle he hadn’t known he’d been hiding him and introducing him to some of the most beautiful parts of life. Whatever he’d done, however he’d managed to get this lucky, Varric knew he’d never be able to top convincing Lanira to be his wife.

#DragonAgeInquisition #DragonAgeAU #Lavellan #CullenRutherford #KnightCaptainRylen #VarricTethras #DorianPavus #TheIronBull #EliandFerionandRynLavellan #ValentinesDrabbles

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years

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Gray's looking forward to his first winter holiday season with his boyfriends and grandparents, but his plans are disrupted by the baby dragon's curse.

Chapter Summary: Gray's grandparents arrive, and Gray's grandmother teaches him what their holiday is all about.

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rogue/Natsu/Sting/Gray, Laxus/Freed, Freed & Gray Series: Part 2 of discord & dragons

*see AO3 for notes

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The trip to the train station was surprisingly uneventful. Freed and Laxus stayed back at the house to finish cooking, so it was just Gray and the dragons. Natsu and Sting rode happily on his shoulders, while Rogue slept in his pocket. Soft flakes of snow drifted down around them, and Sting spent most of the trip trying to catch them in midair.

The train station was packed. Gray made sure to keep the dragons close as he nudged his way through the crowd, occasionally standing on his tiptoes to see over everyone’s heads.

“Nilaaqu!”

The familiar nickname broke through the noise and jumble, and Gray felt his heart lighten when he saw Anaa nudging her way through the crowd toward them. Ataa followed close behind with their wolfdog Qinmiq, who looked very unimpressed by her leash.

Continue reading on AO3

“Aulhit, Anaa,” Gray said, pulling his grandmother into a hug and kissing her cheek. She returned the gesture, laughing when Sting and Natsu both nuzzled her. “How was the trip?”

“Very fast!” Ataa said, moving in and grinning at Gray. He looked like he was about to say something else, but Qinmiq pushed past him, tail wagging frantically as she headbutted Gray’s legs. He laughed, crouching down and scratching behind her ears as she licked his cheeks.

“I missed you too,” he reassured her. Sting made a pleased sound, clambering down Gray’s shoulder and over Qinmiq’s head, which was nearly twice the size of him. He settled down on her back, kneading her scruff happily as he started to purr. “And Sting missed you, too.”

Qinmiq gave Gray a soft woof, seemingly unperturbed by the sudden passenger on her back.

“Trouble again,” Ataa said, holding out his hand to Natsu, who chittered and rubbed his head against Ataa’s fingers. “You are being good?”

Natsu cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and innocent, and Gray rolled his eyes. “They haven’t broken anything yet,” he said in Isvanian. “But it’s only been one day. Bad timing, I guess.”

Ataa shook his head, holding out his hand for Natsu to clamber onto. “He is trouble,” Ataa admitted as Natsu scrambled up into his hood. “But cute trouble.” He raised his eyebrows at Gray and gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Both the dragon and the boy, yes?”

Gray felt his cheeks flush pink and he quickly turned away from his grandfather.

“Come on,” he said, taking Anaa’s arm and gesturing to the station exit. “Let’s go home.”

As soon as they returned to the house, Natsu and Rogue jumped down and bolted toward the living room.

“Stay out of the tree!” Gray shouted as he kicked off his boots and reached out to take Ataa and Anaa’s coats. The lack of jingling ornaments or rustling branches in the living room was reassuring.

Sting, who had fallen asleep on Qinmiq’s back, yawned and stretched out his front legs, kneading her fur and then hopping down to the ground. He nipped at her front paw and scrambled backward, tail flicking back and forth.

“Not in the house, love,” Gray said regretfully, nudging Sting with his foot. Sting sat on his haunches and stared up at Gray with wide, sad eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. Qinmiq’s too big.” Sting whined and pawed at Gray’s leg.

Qinmiq walked over to Sting and, very gently, picked him up in her mouth by his scruff. He made an indignant sound but didn’t struggle as she carried him into the living room.

“Hau’utan!” Anaa’s face brightened into a smile when Freed stepped out of the kitchen, wiping their hands on their apron. Gray smiled at the affectionate name – Ataa had told him that it translated loosely to ‘one adopted into the family.’

“Aulhit,” Freed said in perfectly accented Isvanian as Anaa pulled them into a hug. “Ut Aulanmuuq.”

“You learn so fast,” Anaa replied, pulling back and smiling as she took both of Freed’s hands. “What are you making?” Before Freed could answer, Anaa gestured to Gray and Ataa and added, “I will help – those two are no good. Come.”

Freed laughed and shrugged at Gray as they followed Anaa back into the kitchen. Gray rolled his eyes, gesturing for Ataa to come into the living room. Natsu, Laxus and Rogue were playing under the tree while Qinmiq was curled up in front of the fireplace with Sting tucked between her front paws. He appeared to have accepted the lack of playtime and was snuggled up against her instead.

“This is for what?” Ataa asked in heavily accented Fioran. He was pointing to a set of three small glass dishes that sat on the mantle above the fireplace. Each had a flame in the center that seemed to burn with no fuel.

“It’s for Nev’dya,” Gray explained. “Like Aulanmuuq. But for the dragons.” He switched to Isvanian. “They’re supposed to burn for three nights, to represent the three months of…” He hesitated, unsure of the word for ‘hibernation.’ “Dragons sleep for the winter, for three moons.”

Ataa nodded, staring at the magical flames, then turned and pointed to the tree. “This, too?”

Gray shook his head. “No, that’s for Winter Veil.” Ataa raised an eyebrow and Gray laughed. “It’s Fioran. A winter celebration – like Aulanmuuq, too.”

“There are many celebrations,” Ataa said as he settled down on the couch. Rogue, who had taken over a corner of the sofa, squeaked indignantly when Gray picked him up and took his place. His huffing was easily soothed by a gentle finger running along his muzzle, and his disgruntled sounds soon turned to a quiet purr.

“Do you remember Aulanmuuq?” Ataa asked.

Gray tipped his head back and forth. “A little. Amaamak made utqaa.” He gestured to the wreaths of holly and iceberries that were set along the coffee table. “I remember visiting you. Paappak cooked a… sweet bread? And there were lights.”

Ataa nodded, a warm smile crossing his wrinkled face at the mention of his son and daughter-in-law. “Yes, all of those,” he said. “But the most important thing about Aulanmuuq is stories.”

Gray was about to ask him what he meant when Natsu poked his head out from under the tree. Something bright green was held in his teeth, and it took Gray a second to realize that it was one of the bulbs from the string of lights.

“Natsu, drop it.”

Natsu stared at Gray, flicking his tail so it hit the tree branches and knocked pine needles to the ground. He kept the light in his mouth, growling around it at Laxus as he approached.

“I said drop it,” Gray said, giving Natsu a stern look. “What did I say about being good?”

Natsu’s gaze moved over to Ataa, then back to Laxus, who was still approaching slowly. Sting popped his head up from his spot between Qinmiq’s paws, watching Laxus and Natsu curiously.

Before the three of them could start a fight over the bulb, Gray reached back behind the couch and pulled out a small basket. It was filled with brightly-colored toys, and he dug around in it until he found what he was looking for – a small rubber toy in the shape of a fish.

“Trade you,” he offered, holding out the toy. Natsu’s eyes lit up and he scampered across the room, dropping the light and grabbing the fish from Gray’s hand. “Good boy,” Gray said, scratching Natsu’s head as he grabbed the bulb.

“They play much,” Ataa said as the other dragons immediately hopped up onto Gray and started sniffing the basket. “The toys keep them busy.”

“For a while,” Gray agreed, nudging the dragons away and searching through the basket for their favorite toys. He and Freed had taken up sewing a few months ago after too many pairs of socks were destroyed by the dragons, and the toys had proved surprisingly effective in keeping them out of trouble.

He pulled out a small plastic ball and shook it, handing it to Laxus once the lights in it started blinking. Rogue happily took a plush toy in the shape of a coffee mug that was stuffed with real coffee beans – Gray had been relieved that it was enough to mostly keep him away from the coffee machine.

Sting waited patiently, tail wagging back and forth, and made a pleased sound when Gray found his favorite toy. He took the small stuffed bumblebee gently in his teeth, immediately curling up on Gray’s lap next to Rogue with it tucked under his chin.

“At least you don’t destroy things,” Gray said, scratching behind Sting’s ears and setting the basket on the floor. “Unlike somebody.” He looked over at Natsu, who was lying on his back and happily kicking at the rubber fish. All the stuffed toys they’d made for him had ended up ripped to pieces, and Gray had eventually switched to something sturdier.

Laxus approached the couch with the ball in his mouth, looking between Gray and Ataa before dropping it at Ataa’s feet.

“It wants what?” Ataa asked as Laxus looked at him expectantly.

“Throw it.”

Ataa leaned down to pick up the ball, studying it for a moment before tossing it gently across the floor. Laxus darted after it, batting it around a few times before picking it up in his teeth and bringing it back to Ataa. He hopped up onto the couch and dropped it in Ataa’s lap, wagging his tail until Ataa threw it for him again.

Rogue and Sting cuddled together on Gray’s lap, both happily chewing on their toys as they watched Ataa and Laxus play fetch. The weight of them against Gray was comforting – he could feel their heartbeats fluttering under his fingertips as he petted them, and the rise and fall of their backs with each soft breath.

“So,” Ataa said as he watched Laxus scramble under the Christmas tree. “Tell me of Winter Veil.”

The rest of the afternoon went by peacefully. Natsu attempted to climb the tree at one point, but a stern look from Ataa managed to convince him to come down and cuddle instead. Qinmiq played gently with Sting, letting him gnaw on the end of the rope that Ataa had brought for her.

Eventually Gray and Ataa were called to set the table, which Freed and Anaa quickly filled with food. There was honey spice bread, roast pheasant with wild mushrooms, black beans and rice, and the iceberry wine that Anaa and Ataa had brought from Isvan. The dragons weren’t allowed on the table, so they settled down underneath it instead, and Gray caught Ataa sneaking pieces of meat to them when he thought nobody was looking.

“This one is a good cook,” Anaa said to Gray, gesturing to Freed as they passed her the bread. “You can learn from them. No more eating qu’ahq.” Gray raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar word. “Not good food,” Anaa explained. “Garbage.”

Gray laughed, thinking of her horror when she and Ataa has first visited and found his kitchen full of dry noodles and frozen vegetables.

“I’ll try, Anaa,” he promised.

“You keep him honest,” Anaa said to Freed, who nodded. “You will tell me if he eats bad food.”

Gray and Ataa cleaned the kitchen after supper while Anaa and Freed braided the last of the holly and iceberry strands into the utqaa. When Gray and Ataa were done the dishes and returned to the living room, Freed was stoking the fire with Natsu sitting by their side. Natsu watched the flames, occasionally snapping at a wayward spark and eagerly swallowing it down.

“Come,” Anaa said to Gray, gesturing to the floor in front of the couch. She had pushed the coffee table out of the way and set up an unfamiliar, complicated wooden contraption in its place. Gray settled down cross-legged across from Anaa, frowning at the device. Anaa opened a cloth sack full of skeins of dyed wool and the dragons were immediately at her side, curiously nosing at the bag.

“Shoo,” she said, nudging them away. “This is not for you.” Then she turned back to Gray. “This is a loom,” she said, gesturing to the wooden device. “And we are making a story.”

He recalled Ataa’s earlier words about Aulanmuuq, but none of this seemed familiar.

“A story?”

“Yes.”

Before Gray could ask what she meant, she reached across the loom and took both of his hands in her own. The dragons watched curiously as she guided Gray’s fingers to the cords that were strung across the frame.

“Stories can be told in many ways,” Anaa said, squeezing his hands. “Aulanmuuq is about telling those stories. Some of them must be kept, some must be let go, but all of them must be shared.” She let go of his hands and took the bag from her lap, holding it open for him. “You choose.”

He stared at the strands of dyed wool. The bright red was nearly the same color as Natsu, and it seemed to shimmer in the light of the fire. One skein was a soft mix of black and white, and another a bright blue. Gray frowned, reaching out and running his fingers over the wool until he found one in a soft, pale blue. The color of the sky in winter.

“This is your story,” Anaa said as she took the wool and began to show Gray how to weave it into the loom. “Tell me where it begins.”

They wove late into the night. At first Gray’s fingers felt clumsy next to Anaa’s, but after a while Ataa joined them, helping Gray thread the wool and pull it into patterns. They changed colors whenever Gray felt like it, switching back and forth between nearly every color in the bag.

Freed brought out tea at one point that tasted like cinnamon and honey, and Anaa gestured for them to join Gray as well. Gray somehow knew which threads to pass to Freed, which belonged to Anaa, and which went to Ataa. Qinmiq moved closer and all of the dragons curled up against her, uncharacteristically quiet as they watched the tapestry unfold.

They were halfway through a skein of rich, green wool when Gray knew it was finished. Anaa smiled at him, taking the wool and cutting it off before weaving in the ends.

“What do you think?” she asked once the tapestry was off the loom and in Gray’s hands.

He stared at it, running his fingers across the colors as a warm, content sensation swelled in his chest. It was his story. It started with the winter sky, with white and gold and a soft pink for his childhood. The colors changed abruptly to a mix of deep red and black, an angry mess with several snags. Then white again, then pink – nearly the color of Natsu’s hair. The white and black came later, then green for the northern lights, and a soft, warm orange for Anaa and Ataa and Qinmiq.

The dragons, who had fallen asleep on Qinmiq by this point, stretched and blinked awake. They meandered over to Gray, sniffing the fabric curiously.

“That’s you,” Gray said to Sting, running his fingers over the soft white. Sting rubbed his face against it, then curled up in Gray’s lap and started to purr. Natsu and Rogue continued to sniff it, somehow finding their own colors and copying Sting’s gesture.

“They are smart,” Ataa said from his spot on the couch. Freed was next to him, fast asleep against the pillows with Laxus curled up on their chest. “They know stories.”

“Thank you,” Gray said quietly, looking up at Anaa. She held out her arms to him and he leaned into the embrace, feeling content in a way that he hadn’t since he was small.

“There is nothing to thank me for,” Anaa said. She kissed Gray’s forehead and touched his tapestry with loving fingers. “This was all you. Your story has been long and difficult, but you are here now.” She tapped the deep green at the end. “This is for growth. For new possibilities and beginnings, for being open to love and change. For family.”

Gray ran his fingers over the colors. He didn’t have to search anymore. The piece of him that had always longed for more, that missed his mother and father, that felt broken and alone – it was whole again. He would never forget his parents, would always love them fiercely, but the deep wound he’d carried for so many years was slowly fading to a shallow, soft pain that he could easily carry.

Gray looked around the room – at Laxus sleeping on Freed, at Ataa’s warm smile, at the dragons in his own lap and Anaa’s soft hands on his. They were all bathed in the warm glow of the fire and the Winter Veil lights from the tree, surrounded by the Aulanmuuq utqaa, full of the Nev’dya food prepared with care and love.

“You have many celebrations,” Anaa said. “And many things to love.”

Gray nodded as the soft warm spread through him – a deep sense of belonging, a certainty that this was love. This was home. It was messy and chaotic, and wild and unpredictable, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world

“Yeah,” Gray said as he rested his head against his grandmother’s shoulder and watched his family. “Yeah, I do.”

#fairy tail #gratsustingue #ot4 #fraxus #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #freed justine #laxus dreyar #discord&dragons #babydragons!au #fluff #holiday fic #fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic

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hugsandharrifield · 4 years

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Yes yet another Harrifield Ficlet.

Meet the Leader- Steve X Dwight

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It had only been a few days since Nancy and Steve had been transported to the Entity's Realm. And Steve was sure of one thing, this place was nuts. Besides housing a patched together replica of the Hawkins National Laboratory and dragging A Demogorgon along with them. He and Nancy were constantly being thrown into other crazy and dangerous situations, an old coal tower, an old overgrown junkyard, a perpetually in the state of autumn farm, an abandoned ski resort, an old Japanese manor, what appeared to be a random street from a random suburb and plenty more creepy places. And all these places came with a terrible monstrous being, a terrifying woman with a pig head who liked to play games, a ghostly nurse who's screams echoed across the fog, two different backwoods rednecks with chainsaws, a terrifying Japanese ghost with a sword, silent killers in masks, a crispy fried asshole who haunted your dreams, and a cavalcade of others. It was enough to drive Steve to significant distraction, which is why he failed to notice the trap as it snapped around his leg. "Aaaaaaagh* He screamed as he looked down. A bear trap? He remembers briefly that one of other survivors had mentioned that one of the killers used bear traps. Supposedly the killer who had been here the longest, they called him the Trapper. Steve realized that the Killer would probably soon be here, so he attempted to pull himself out. The trap was resistant and making it difficult to push off of him and it tearing deep into his flesh wasn't helping as the pain was excruciating. A bit of panic crept into Steve as he continued to attempt to get out of the trap, and he saw in the distance corn shaking and parting with a telltale red light that Steve had come to dread. Frantically pulling at the trap Steve began sweating. "You want some help?" a quiet nervous voice called out. It was Dwight, the supposed "Leader" of the survivors. Steve wasn't 100% sure why he was the leader he didn't seem like he cut some sort of dashing figure or anything. Apparently he'd been here the longest though. Dwight didn't really wait for Steve to answer, he just bent down and immediately popped the trap open and pulled Steve out of it. Steve attempted to move and searing pain shot through his leg. "It's okay I've got you." Dwight said as he shouldered Steve and started dragging him away from the trap. Steve's head darted back and forth looking for the Trapper trying to move faster to get away from the beast. Strangely the red light had faded and he heard a voice yelling and taunting."Come on double ugly! Think ye can keep up with me? Fook you and your bloody traps!" Steve heard the voice it was David, that tough guy from the U.K. "See no need to worry, David has got the Trappers attention just like we planned." Dwight calmly explained. Wait Dwight had planned this? Steve didn't have too much time to think as he was quickly dragged to the other side of the trial area."Claud! I need your help, the new guy stuck himself in a trap." Dwight called out. "Just a sec." Steve knew Claudette she was one of the nicer survivors Very sweet lady, super into plants and medicine. She had popped out from behind a bush and Steve noticed a pile of broken bones in disarray behind her. "Wanted to take care of that totem just in case." She smiled and looked clinically at Steve's leg. "Woof rough, I've got a medkit, help me with this Dwight." She pulled bandages out of the med kit and Dwight grabbed a bottle of what appeared to be peroxide and dabbed some cotton balls with it. "This is gonna hurt, so bite onto something." Dwight said Steve rolled up the end of his shirt sleeve and bit into it and Dwight dabbed the cotton balls on him. Searing pain... but Steve managed to not yell.It took a small bit time but with Dwight and Claudette working together they managed to get Steve bandaged and capable of moving around at a good pace again. "We only have a couple gens left to do. " Claudette said thoughtful "David's keeping the Trapper busy. Stick with Dwight, he's good at helping newbies, and he'll make sure you get out." She pointed at a nearby gen and indicated that they should get on it. Claudette then walked into the corn field slowly, presumably looking for another gen. "Thanks man." Steve looked embarrassed and scratched the back of his head. "It's fine we all were new at some point." Dwight just smiled and looked embarrassed. "Lets get this gen done." Steve looked at the thing and put his hands in and started connecting cords and loosening and pushing pieces around like he had been taught on his very first day here by the very cranky Nea. After a few seconds Dwight stopped what he was doing and looked around, the gen seemed to be making a lot of noise so it had to be at least partly done. Dwight came in directly behind Steve and put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "See that piece right there, if you cross connect it here..." Dwight had such a calming voice, and his hand was warm on Steve's shoulder. It took a second to focus but Steve was really impressed as Dwight walked him through a lot of tricks about how to speed this whole process up. He's not sure he'd be able to do it without Dwight's help he says out loud. Dwight assures him "It will just take time, then one day you'll be a pro just like me." Dwight makes a hand on his hips pose like he's a superhero or something. Steve can't help but laugh, what a dork. As they finish the gen almost a few seconds afterwards another gen makes the sound that it's done. And for a brief second the lights above the doors flash. They start to head to the door when a loud yell happens and Steve is pretty sure that David has just been caught. "Quick! Go to the door and open it and then when it's open get out." Dwight said brusquely. "Now hold on a second." Steve started to complain. "No arguments. Just the door." Dwight pointed and made it clear he wasn't going to put up with Steve's nonsense. "Besides your leg is still not 100%" Steve decided not to argue but he was very tempted too, he moved quickly to the door and pulled on the lever. He could see in the distance that David had been hooked and that the Trapper was sitting in front of his prey looking very annoyed and not moving. The door mechanism became louder and louder. He watched Claudette and Dwight came at the hook from separate directions, Claudette made a lot of noise and drew the Trappers attention and the mountain of a man followed her a short bit. Dwight took the opportunity and bolted out and pulled David from the hook. Steve heard the loud groaning of metal as the doors finally opened. A strange bell from seemingly nowhere rang, and cracks formed in the ground with a glowing red light. The Trapper roared and like a flash turned from Claudette, she shot quickly with a purpose to the door. The Trapper was not about to let his prey escape Dwight and David were in trouble as he stalked towards them. They weaved as they came to a group of the strange walls that permeated this realm. Dwight keeping himself between the Killer and David shoving the swearing English man out of the way as the Trapper took a swing at them both. Dwight yelped in pain but the Trapper was distracted enough for David to slip by him and the Manchester menace began barreling towards the open door. Dwight however looked to be in trouble as he circled slowly around the set of dilapidated walls. David yelled "We need to get out." He pointed at the door. Claudette grabbed him and held him up and dragged him towards the threshold inside the doorway indicating for Steve to follow. Steve shrugged and smiled an evil grin "Sorry I know this is stupid." And he ran towards the set of walls that the Trapper was chasing Dwight around. "Wait Steve." Claudette yelled she moved to go after him but stopped as she realized it was a bad idea to leave David alone with the gaping wound in his shoulder. Steve ran over to the walls and could see that Dwight was slowing down. He desperately needed a distraction but the Trapper was on his heels. The Trapper raised his weapon and brought it down but Dwight quickly jumped into a locker and the Trapper only hit the door as it slammed shut. Still it didn't look good the Trapper was just going to open the door and drag the poor guy out. "Hey! You! BIG and Stupid I bet your mother dropped you as a child!" Steve yelled. The trapper looked into his direction confused for a second. And that was all the time Dwight needed. Bam the doors popped open and smacked the Trapper in the face and he staggered in confusion. Dwight moved like lightning as he flew in a line straight towards the door he grabbed Steve's hand as he passed by and yanked him super hard. "OUT OUT OUT!" He yelled in a panic. They nearly crashed into David and Claudette who were still in the threshold of the door "Oh thank god!" Claudette breathed in relief " I really didn't want to have to go back and get both of you." The entire group passed the threshold into the grass that surrounded the trial area just as the Trapper burst into the doorway attempting to capture them one last time. They ran as they heard the anger as the giant man swung his weapon at the fence of the Entity's thin claws that prevented him from following them. "Steve, that was pretty dumb!" Dwight laughed. "But thanks. " He threw an arm over Steve’s shoulder and whooped in victory. "That was crazy how did you know to do that with the locker?" Steve asked. "Oh Jane taught that to me." Dwight smiled. "I'll get her to teach you that too." Steve smiled broadly and they came out to the clearing of the campfire with Dwight's arm still over his shoulder. He kind of understood now why Dwight was the leader, perhaps he was a pretty cool guy in some ways. Something in his head said that Dwight was going to be a good friend.

#steve harrington #dwight fairfield #dead by daylight #stranger things #harrifield #fanfic

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pikapeppa · 5 years

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Fenris/f!Hawke holiday fluff: Satinalia

Inspired by @serial-chillr‘s most recent OC/OTP holiday edition questions! I LOVE YOU AND YOUR MEMES. NEVER STOP TAGGING ME IN THEM. ❤️

Here we have a little before-and-after on Fenris and Rynne Hawke and how they celebrate Satinalia. Read on AO3 instead; ~1980 words.

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The year 9:31 Dragon, in Kirkwall...

“Happy Satinalia!” Hawke crowed as she sauntered into Fenris’s mansion. With a flourish, she offered him a bottle of wine.

Fenris eyed the expensive bottle suspiciously. “For Satinalia, you say?”

“Yes!” she said. “I don’t know about you, but it’s my favourite holiday. Who doesn’t like a holiday that’s really just an excuse to drink and dance a lot and to buy gifts for your closest friends?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Or to feel guilty about the ones you didn’t buy gifts for. One of the two.”

He gazed at her in silence, uncertain how to respond. Fenris had never received a Satinalia gift before – not that he could remember, at least. He had also only ever harboured resentment toward this holiday, considering what it had entailed back in the Imperium.

For Fenris, Satinalia in the Imperium meant being paraded around in his gold-plated cuffs and collar, whether at Danarius’s estate or the estate of whoever was hosting the most lavish Satinalia fête that year. If Fenris was lucky, Danarius would ignore him during the parties, leaving him to skulk undisturbed in Danarius’s wake; if Fenris was less lucky, Danarius would address him in the condescending manner reserved for a pet, or even force Fenris to eat rich morsels of food from his fingers if he was feeling particularly jovial and cruel.

Fenris dropped his gaze and folded his arms defensively. “I didn’t get you anything,” he muttered.

Hawke sighed dramatically. “And here I thought I was your best friend. I’ll pretend that doesn’t hurt my feelings.” She smiled cheekily at him, then held out the bottle more insistently.

Fenris reluctantly took the bottle. He couldn’t read the label, but he recognized the stamp on the glass: the wine was Antivan and very fine, and likely more than Hawke could really afford, given that she was trying to save up for Varric’s brother’s insane Deep Roads expedition.

There was an odd buzzing feeling in his chest, almost like a mixture of warmth and a dull sort of pain. He swallowed hard. “You expect me to drink this all on my own?” he said gruffly. He knew how ungrateful he sounded; truly, the only words that should be coming from his mouth were ‘thank you’. But… venhedis, it was so difficult with Hawke sometimes. He already owed her so much for helping him to shake off the hunters when he’d first arrived in Kirkwall. Not that she ever brought it up or lorded it over him; in fact, every time she showed up here to see him, it was never to call in any favours. It was always to invite him along on some foolish lark, or to visit the Blooming Rose for a glimpse of the so-called ‘local talent’, or just to invite herself into his squatter’s nest and put her feet up on his filthy table and to talk and talk until he had no choice but to sit with her and talk in return.

He had much to be grateful to Hawke for, and not just for this wine. But his words of thanks were blocked, trapped behind the unfamiliar and uncomfortable warmth filling his ribcage and swelling in his throat, and he could barely stand to look at her, much less express his thanks.

When she replied, her jovial tone was slightly wary. “You don’t have to drink the whole thing in one go, you handsome fool. Not unless you’re having a party and you’re going for a record or some such thing.” She brightened and looked around the dank foyer. “Are you having a party I don’t know about? I mean, perhaps that cracked femur in the corner is a friend of yours…”

Fenris pursed his lips and didn’t reply, and Hawke took a step closer to him and reached for his arm. “Hey, are you all right?” she asked.

He shirked away from her instinctively. “I’m fine,” he snapped.

She stopped in her tracks, and Fenris took a deep breath to calm himself. Hawke didn’t deserve his ire; not this time, at least. Besides, he wasn’t angry, not really. Anger was easy and familiar, a blistering roar in his chest and in his ears, and that’s not what this roiling warmth in his chest was.

He took another breath, then forced himself to look her in the eye. “I’m fine,” he said calmly. “And this was… thoughtful of you.” He gestured at the bottle.

She smiled tentatively. “Proof that Rynne Hawke does actually have a thought once in a while, right?”

He tried for a smile in return; he just not have been very convincing, though, because Hawke tugged her earlobe, then jerked her thumb at the door. “Well, um, I guess I’ll…”

She was shifting slowly toward the door. A dull little pang diluted the warm feeling in his chest. “You’re leaving?” he asked.

She stopped and looked at him in surprise. “I, uh. I don’t know. Am I?”

He dropped his eyes awkwardly to the bottle in his hands, then gestured at it once more. “I just told you that I can’t drink this on my own.”

She didn’t reply right away, and when Fenris chanced another look at her, he found her beaming at him. “Is this your way of asking me to stay for a drink?” she asked.

He huffed in amusement – and, yes, a little relief – then waved for her to sit at the table. “If you’re looking for a gold-embossed invitation on vellum, I’m afraid you’ll be waiting for quite some time.” He uncorked the wine, then sat kitty-corner to her and offered her the freshly-opened bottle.

She chuckled as she took the bottle from his hand. “Fenris, I think this is your Satinalia gift to me. A drink and – dare I ask – a story from Kirkwall’s most handsome brooding elf?”

He tsked. “I don’t brood.”

She lowered the bottle from her lush raspberry-red lips and grinned at him. “I didn’t hear a refusal there to tell a story. Excellent, I’ll prepare to have my smallclothes melt off at that lovely voice of yours.”

Her heated smile lifted a flush of warmth in his gut – yet another unfamiliar and pleasant and confusing sensation. He seemed to suffer such sensations a lot when Hawke was around.

He snorted and took the bottle from her hand. “Shut up, Hawke,” he drawled, and he took a healthy gulp of wine. Just as he’d predicted, it was delicious wine: a rich and tangy sweetness overlaid with the perfect bitter note. He savoured the taste as it washed over his tongue, and when he lowered the bottle, it was to find Hawke watching him with the sort of gentle smile that always seemed to make his heart skip a beat.

He smirked at her and handed her the bottle. The afternoon stretched out lazily as he and Hawke drank their wine and chatted and bickered and teased each other. By the time they’d finished the bottle of wine, Fenris had realized something odd and… nice.

He’d realized that perhaps Satinalia wasn’t so bad after all.

Ten years later in Skyhold...

Hawke carefully kneeled beside Fenris on the carpet, then held out a silver tray bearing two glasses of wine and the remaining half-empty bottle. “Fancy Antivan wine, freshly delivered from, er, Antiva!”

Fenris smiled faintly at her and took one glass of wine. “By which you mean it was specially ordered via Bonnie Sims?”

Hawke lifted her chin in a dignified manner. “How it got here doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s good.” She carefully set the tray on the carpet beside Toby’s furry snoring form, then lifted the second glass.

She tapped her glass against his in a tiny salute. “Happy Satinalia,” she chirped.

“Benefaris,” he said, and she smiled at him. They each sipped their wine, then Hawke shifted closer to him on the carpet. She punched their little nest of cushions into shape and arranged a blanket over their legs before picking up her glass again. She took a sip of wine, then finally snuggled into Fenris’s side.

Fenris watched in amusement until she finally stopped fidgeting. “Sufficiently comfortable now, are you?” he said.

“Yes, thanks for asking,” she said pertly. “Although if you wanted to take your shirt off and share a little more of your body heat with me, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

He scoffed and pinched her waist. She squeaked and smacked his hand, and they scuffled for a moment until Toby lifted his head quizzically.

Hawke poked Fenris once more. “Settle down, you ruffian. You’re disturbing the mabari.”

Fenris nodded respectfully to Toby. “I apologize, my friend. You can resume your rest.”

Toby woofed quietly, then settled his head on his paws once more, and Hawke and Fenris settled back on their impromptu pallet of cushions. The fire was dancing brightly in the hearth, and Fenris idly wiggled his bare toes as the flames sent a gentle wash of heat over the soles of his feet. Then, before he could forget, he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small envelope.

He handed the envelope to Hawke. “For you,” he said.

She gasped dramatically and pressed her hand to her chest. “For me? A letter from you? What sort of letter? A naughty one, if I’m lucky.”

He tutted as she eagerly opened the envelope. “As though I haven’t given you a letter every year on Satinalia for the past three years,” he drawled.

“Shh,” she admonished. “You’re ruining the suspense.” She pulled out the letter, and Fenris watched her from the corner of his eye as she read it.

Her eyes flicked swiftly across the page, and her expression shifted just as quickly: from smiling to serious, a bark of a laugh then back to serious. Her face gradually softened to something more complex, like a very tender sort of joy, and by the time she reached the end of the letter, her eyes were shining.

She looked up and met his gaze, then let out a wobbly little laugh. “Oh Fenris,” she said. She quickly wiped her eyes, then batted her eyelashes playfully. “If I’m not mistaken, this letter must mean you like me a bit. Just a little bit, though, not very much–”

He huffed in amusement and cupped her tattooed neck in his palm. “Shut up, Hawke,” he murmured, and he kissed her smiling lips.

She slid her fingers through his hair, and a few moments later, she was tucked beneath his body on the carpet as their lips met and parted in a lazy ebb and flow of affection. The fire was cozy and the blanket was warm, trapping the heat continued to rise between them as Fenris slid one arm beneath her waist, and it wasn’t long before he was hot enough to pull his tunic over his head and toss it on the carpet alongside their forgotten wine.

Hawke smiled and trailed her fingers over his collarbones. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Happy Satinalia to me.”

He smirked at her salacious tone. “Yes, it is,” he whispered. Just as every Satinalia had been, for as long as he had known her.

He drifted his palm over her belly, then beneath her shirt to seek her golden skin, and moments later her shirt was discarded along with his own. Hawke and Fenris kissed and shifted and breathed together on the carpet in front of the fireplace until the mabari deigned to move somewhere safer, and the passing of night gradually softened the flames to a gentle pile of embers, bringing another Satinalia to a peaceful close.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenrynne #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fhawris #pikapeppa writes #happy holidays!#merry christmas!#all that jazz!

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ibovaryyou · 4 years

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Fictober 2020 - Day 30

Prompt number: 30 - just say it

Fandom: yuri on ice

Rating: Yuuri/Victor

They had been standing next to each other, arms crossed, for ten minutes. One thinking hard, the other waiting for an answer. Victor broke first, sighing. "Just say it, I promise I won’t get mad." Yuuri looked at him from the corner of his eye, doubtful. He took a deep breath, better get this over with, he supposed. "Fine", he started, "it’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life," he said marking every word with the certainty he felt.

Victor gasped out loudly, taking a hand to his forehead and the other one to his chest, turning to face their dog. "Did you hear that, Makka? Your father can be so cruel!," he said kneeling down in front of her to hug her and bury his face in her fur. Yuuri kneeled down on the floor next to him, placing one hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Vitya, but it is. Makka should not be covered by something like that dress, she's too pretty for it." The dress in question was lilac, with sparkles on the front, forming a big heart with a 'woof' written in white in the middle. It had a tule skirt in the back that did not reach entirely all the way down her tail, also covered in sparkles. The person who had designed the puffy sleeves that cut in the middle of her front paws should face trial for crimes against doghood, in Yuuri's opinion. They made Makka's legs lump weirdly, he was certain she couldn't be comfortable in it either. Still, she just panted patiently, pausing to kiss Victor now and then. Yuuri suspected she couldn't move much, otherwise, she would have dropped on the floor already, asking for rubs. Yuuri scratched her on the back of one ear, careful of not disturbing the tiny bows Victor had clipped on top of it, those could stay, those were cute. Victor sniffed before raising his head a bit. He examined Makka up close for a moment before conceding defeat. "Maybe you're right. It's not making her eyes pop they way I thought it would. And I think I picked a size too small," he said laughing. Yuuri snorted. "Make that two sizes. I don't know how you managed to get her into it. What did he promise you, Makka?," he asked rubbing her side. She immediately tried to move to give him better access to her belly but couldn't even raise her paw. Yuuri had been right. "I didn't have to promise her anything, you know she loves to try on new things," Victor said indignant. "Be that as it may," Yuuri said, we have to get her out of it before it hurts her. It was easier said than done. Yuuri really couldn't understand how she had managed to go in, it was way too small. "We'll have to cut it," Victor said after a few minutes. "There's no other way." Yuuri nodded and stood up to get a pair of scissors. "Get ready", he called as he came back. Makka did not like scissors, at all, so it was imperative that Victor took good hold of her while distracting her enough to free her from her sparkly prison. "Careful with her fur!," Victor stage whispered quickly, covering Makka's ears. Yuuri nodded, feeling like he was in Mission Impossible, he had to make a huge effort to keep focused and not start humming the theme. Victor was not as strong. Yuuri bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. "Shut up, Vitya, I'm going to make a mistake and she'll hate me for a week." Victor smiled impishly. "But then she won't remember to be mad at me." Yuuri stopped what he was doing, shocked. "So that's the way you want it, Binktop...," he said before finishing cutting up the dress in one swift motion, not a hair of their beloved poodle harmed. He turned to look at Victor triumphant. Victor stared at him for a full half minute, not entirely sure of how he felt inside, but he knew scared was only a tiny part of it. Yuuri held the eye contact with Victor for the same amount of time and smirked before making his move. "C'mon, Makka," he said putting the scissors away and taking off the dress. She shook herself as soon as she felt the fabric leave her body. "You're free now. Let's go to the park while your father gets rid of that thing he bought you." Before he could react, they were at the door. Still on his knees, Victor just called after them. "No, wait for me! Yuuri!"

#fictober20 #yuri on ice #this is so dumb but I'm not sorry #by handwritten

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eastofthemoon · 5 years

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Wrote this for Keith’s birthday! With that said, this takes place in an AU where season 8 didn’t happened. Basically, not long after season 7, Keith and Allura began to date, she never died and everyone was happy.

Piece of Cake

Rating: G

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender

Characters/Pairing: Keith/Allura, Hunk, Pidge, and Kosmo

Summary: Allura was not a baker, but surely baking a cake for Keith's birthday shouldn't be too hard right?

------------------------------------------------- Allura quietly poked her head into the entrance of the Atlas’s hangar and narrowed her eyes as she scanned the area.

Good news, Hunk was working at his table and there was only one other person there with him.

Bad news, the other person was Pidge.

Allura internally cringed. She would have preferred to speak to Hunk privately, and with Pidge’s curious nature she was likely going to inquire what was going on.

“Can’t be helped I suppose,” she whispered under her breath as she straightened her posture and entered.

Allura cleared her throat and forced a smile as she approached. “Hello, you two!”

Hunk removed his goggles as he glanced up and waved. “Oh! Hey, Allura.”

Pidge glanced up and raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here?" She glanced at her watch. "Don't you and Keith have a date tonight?"

"It's not for another varga..er..I mean hour." It was still tricky to adjust to Earth's measurements of time. "With that said, there is something I would like your assistance with, Hunk."

"Uh okay," Hunk replied as he rose. "What's up?"

Allura sighed as she blushed. "Well...I tried to bake a cake for Keith's birthday but I'm worried I may have misread the recipe." She gave a tight frown. "It just doesn't look like it's picture in the book-"

"Wait a sec," Pidge said as she crossed her arms. "I thought Keith's birthday was tomorrow hence why we were throwing that surprise party for him?"

"It is," Allura quickly added, " but since this is his first birthday with him and I as a couple I thought me having a private celebration with him would be nice."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just buy him a cake?"

Hunk scoffed as he waved Pidge away. "Don't listen to her, Allura. I think it's super sweet."

Allura gave a small smile. "Thank you, but would you mind inspecting my work? I rather make certain I did not ruin it by mistake."

Hunk gave a laugh. "Sure, but it's probably fine. Just because it doesn't look pretty doesn't mean it won't taste good."

Allura felt at ease by Hunk's words, but it vanished in an eyeblink after she took Hunk and Pidge into the Atlas's kitchen.

Hunk’s eyes had widened in horror while Pidge blinked in disbelief. Allura gave a slight pout as she rubbed her arm.

It couldn’t be that bad could it? Sure her cake was rather lumpy and looked a bit more brunt than the cake in the book, but it should still be fine, right?

“Um…” Hunk replied as he kneeled and poked at the cake. “Well..it looks interesting.”

“If you mean ‘interesting’ as in it would give you a stomach ache then I’ll agree with you,” Pidge added dryly.

Allura glared as she placed her hands on her hips. “That’s rather harsh.”

Pidge ignored her as she pointed to the sides of the cake. “What are those tiny pink things in it? They don’t look like fruit.”

“Flower petals,” Allura asked. Wasn’t it obvious?

Hunk choked as he rose back up. “You put flower petals in a cake?”

“Of course,” Allura said as she picked up the book. Colleen hadn’t given her any odd looks when she asked if she could have some from her greenhouse. “It says two cups of flower right here in the book.”

Both Hunk and Pidge groaned in perfect unison.

“What?” Allura asked as she tilted her head.

Hunk patted her shoulder. “Allura, it’s an honest mistake, but it doesn’t mean that kind of ‘flower’.”

“It means this,” Pidge said as she reached into the cupboard, brought out a small bag and pointed to the printed letters. “See, FLOUR.”

Allura blinked dumbly and raised a finger. “But-”

“Same sound, but different spellings and meanings,” Hunk added quickly. “It’s easy to see how you got them mixed up.”

Allura’s jaw drop before wrinkles formed in her forehead. “That’s utterly ridiculous! Why would you have two words with the same sound? In the Altean language, every word has a unique and precise pronunciation.”

“Oh, I know,” Pidge replied with a deep sigh. “I still get nightmares from that ‘safety off’ lesson I got from the castle.”

Hunk narrowed his eyes as he looked back at the cake. “And what are those long orange pieces sticking out?”

“Carrots,” Allura said with a huff. “I may not know much about baking, but the recipe was quite clear those vegetables are needed for a carrot cake.”

“A carrot-” Hunk trailed off as he poked his fingers into the cake.

Before Allura could stop him, Hunk tugged free a long thin piece of carrot. “Allura, what did you use to grate these?”

Allura reached into the sick and picked up the tool. “This.”

“That’s a cheese slicer!” Hunk exclaimed as Pidge held back a chuckle.

Allura glanced to the object and back to Hunk in confusion. “Isn’t that the same thing as a cheese grater?”

“No, it’s not!”

Pidge giggled as she held up a hand. “I’m sorry..sorry, really...Ha ha! But this is too funny.”

Allura shot a glare as she sighed and dropped the cheese slicer back into the sink. “So, I’m assuming my cake isn’t edible.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Hunk said and tore off a piece.

He tossed it into his mouth and his lips puckered. Hunk coughed as regret washed over his face. "Nope! I was wrong! Allura, you know the difference between salt and sugar, right?”

Allura sighed as she slumped. “I ran out of sugar, I didn’t think it would change the flavor much.”

“Oooh, it does,” Pidge remarked as Hunk scrambled for a glass of water.

Allura groaned as she pulled up a chair and buried her face into her hands. “What should I do? I’m going to see Keith in less than an hour. I can’t bake another cake.”

“You could just buy a cake like any sane person,” Pidge asked as Hunk finished chugging back his water.

Allura gave a pout. She had a thought of that but she had been hoping to actually create something for Keith. It just made the gesture feel more personal to her.

Hunk slammed his glass on the counter and held up his hand. “Alright, just give me a second to think.”

Allura and Pidge watched him curiously as Hunk shut his eyes and crossed his arms. After what felt like an eternity, Hunk suddenly clapped his hands.

“Alright, I know what to do!” He pointed to Pidge. “Back cupboard of the kitchen, there should be more sugar. Go get it!” Pidge ran as he turned to Allura. “You are going to get a frying pan and a mixing bowl while I gather the other ingredients.”

“But Hunk,” Allura stammered, “I just said I don’t have time to bake another cake..and what kind of cake requires a frying pan-”

“Allura,” Hunk cut in with full seriousness in his eyes, “do I question Keith’s orders when we’re piloting Voltron?”

Allura blinked. “...No.”

“Then don’t question mine when it comes to cooking!” Hunk said as he pointed. “Just trust me and go get the frying pan!”

“Ah, alright,” Allura replied as did as she was told and didn’t dare argue.

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

Keith was tired. It had been a long day of meetings and training, but now he was allowed to escape to the safety of his room. Kosmo gave a soft whine as Keith patted his head.

“We’ll go for a run in a bit, boy,” Keith told him as they reached the door to his room. “We just got to meet with Allura first. She wanted to join us this time, remember?”

Kosmo wagged his tail and gave a soft woof.

Keith smiled as he turned the knob and entered.

“Happy Birthday!”

Keith jumped, and almost reached for his knife but relaxed when he clued in it was Allura.

Kosmo barked and wagged his tail as he raced over to greet her.

“Sorry,” Allura said as she reached down to pat the wolf’s head. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s okay,” Keith said as he shut the door, “but I wasn’t expecting you until later.” He then frowned and raised an eyebrow. “Also..my birthday is tomorrow.”

“I know,” Allura said with a shaky smile as she turned around and picked up something off his coffee table. “I thought we could have a private celebration so…” She whirled around. “This is for you!”

Keith blinked dumbly and pointed. “Are..those pancakes?”

Allura gave a nervous chuckled as she glanced down at the tall stack of pancakes. “Err...yes.” She sighed as she set them back on the table. “I had tried baking you a cake but...I didn’t do a very good job.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Keith said as he sat on the couch. He wasn’t that picky when it came to sweets.

Allura blushed as she sat down next to him and Kosmo curled up at their feet. “I just learned that ‘flour’ in an Earth recipe doesn’t mean flower petals.”

Keith went quiet and mouthed a quiet ‘Oh’.

“Pidge took photos of it if you wish to see what it looked like,” Allura said darkly.

Keith held up his hands. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He eyed the stack of pancakes and the bottle of syrup that had been placed next to it. “So..what made you go for pancakes then?”

“It was Hunk’s idea,” Allura said as she leaned back and shut her eyes. “I am sorry it’s not anything fancier, but it was the quickest thing I could make and with Hunk’s help I know these are actually edible-”

Keith kissed her on the cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. “Actually, I like these better than a cake.”

Allura glanced up in surprise. “You do?”

Keith chuckled. “My dad used to make me pancakes for my birthday every year. I remember I had mentioned it to Hunk once, so I bet that’s partly why he suggested these.”

Allura blushed as she leaned into him. “So..this is alright?”

“Very much so,” Keith said as he reached out for the syrup. “Way too much for me to each by myself though. Care to split?”

“Certainly,” Allura said, but then a whine came at their feet.

“Yes, I’ll give some to you too, boy,” Keith said with a chuckle. “Then we’ll go for that run.”

Kosmo wagged his tail in delight as Keith happily cut into his birthday pancakes.

#kallura #juniblade #keithober #keith kogane #keith's birthday #voltron #my writing #I love writing stories where Hunk gets to boss people around

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deity-speaks-about-things · 4 years

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kitty cats and bubblegum : oh so quiet | part one

quiet. he was so quiet. it was unusual for it to be quiet at jenny’s house. living with the Bakougo’s meant never a dull moment. jenny loved the attention!

but since she was going to nebu jr high instead of the school katsuki was going too. [due to her bio parents having her set up to go. it was easier for her to go there since they were expecting her.] she got a place away from her loud...loud family.

even if her class was loud enough on its own. thats why he stood out.

hitoshi shinso. the boy sat by the window opposite of her own seat. fact : jenny loves purple. he has purple hair. so she decided one day to go up to him and say hi. she stopped in her tracks when she saw some classmates at his desk. she listened in. they...they thought he’d use his quirk to get away with stuff. thats weird. little miss bakougo thought back to her twin brother. how he was bullied. how she didnt help him so...he ran away. she was getting a second chance.

jenny put a smile on her face and walked up behind shinso who was sat at his desk. she looked at the people talking to him. “it’s rude to assume stuff about people. what? didnt your mother ever teach you better?” she told them , her hands on the back of shinso’s chair. he looked up to see jenny’s death glare.

the group of kids left and jenny sighed heavily. “woof you dont grow up with katsu and not learn how to intimidate someone!” the brunette girl gave a sympathetic looks at shinso. “oh...you didnt have to do that , bakougo.” he told her. jenny’s face dropped. “yeah i ...i did.” she smiled before moving to stand in front of her classmate. “tell me if you need any help with them. kay , shinso? also! call me jenny.” she gave some finger guns [cough cough bi cough] and went back to her desk.

that afternoon when jenny was waiting at the bus stop to get home she thought about mr.hitoshi shinso. quiet. always quiet. fact : jenny likes the quiet as long as its between her and someone else. never alone.

as she got onto the bus she sat at the front as usual , saying hi to the drover and to the elderly ladies who were commonly on the bus. fact : jenny likes old ladies. they’re usually very nice and her and them are at a similar pace.

as she hopped off the bus she switched her bag to her other shoulder. the walk home was gonna be rough. no big deal. she passed the usual fences before walking into her neighborhood. she walked on the sidewalk until she was at her front door. using the key to unlock the door. jenny walked inside and called out to whoever was home “hey im home!”. katsuki came out of the kitchen, “oi how much homework you got?” he asked. jenny rolled her eyes. she walked to the staircase. “thats papa’s line bee tee dubs.” she called back to her brother.

“he’s asleep right now. and you didnt answer my question.”. jenny ignored katsuki and hopped up to her room. she locked her door behind her and changed into her usual pajama’s. a t-shirt and shorts. she didnt have homework. she always did it on the way home and katsuki knew that.

jenny layed on her bed just thinking. just so you know , jenny and katsuki’s rooms are next to eachother. they have a little door connecting them.

so the little door opened and katsuki crouched to get through. “oi , feisty.” he called. jenny hummed and her adoptive brother sat next to her on her bed. “dinners ready dumbass. i called twice. thought you up and died.” he scolded. jen shrugged.

“ok. whats up?” katsuki asked. his tone shifting. jenny took a breath. “you know that shinso kid i mentioned. the one with pretty purple hair?” she began. the ash blonde thought for a minute. “...the beetlejuice motherfucker?”

jenny stifled a laugh and sat up. “yes...the-” she suppressed a smile. “the beetlejuice motherfucker...” she finished.

katsuki huffed. “what about. if you have a crush on him i dont wanna hear about it.”

jenny hit her brothers shoulder. “no! i barely know him. he gets treated differently cause of his quirk.” her shoulders slumped. jenny didnt know about deku. and katsuki was hoping she never knew. [boy did T H A T go well]

“so what? none of your business.” katsuki layed back on jenny’s bed. “well i ...” she bit her lip. katsuki sat back up. “he reminded you of matt...fuck.” he ran a hand through his hair. “sorry sis.”

jenny blinked. “is this...a genuine apology from you , katsu?” jenny asked.”sh-shut up!” her brother exclaimed.

jenny’s door opened a crack. “are you too gonna eat?” their dad asked. “yeah we will. i just need to knock some sense into feisty here she’s got new buddy who looks like fuckin beetlejuice!” katsuki pushed jen over and threw a pillow over her. she let out an oof.

their dad smiled. “alright. have fun. mom wont be back until late okay? something came up.” he told the two. “kay papa!” jen smiled as she had gotten up and hit katsuki in the head with a pillow. “why you little-”

their dad closed the door smiling.

the next morning jenny woke up to find she had been tucked in. the small door was open slightly and there was a plate on jenny’s nightstand. there was a note with it. “for my little hawks.”. jen smiled “thanks papa...” she smiled. fact : jenny’s favorite hero is hawks. he’s new but really cool and funny.

after eating she quickly got read for the day and hopped down stairs. “morning everyone~” she said sweetly. “morning sweetheart!” her mom called. katsuki was already at the door waiting. “come on slow-poke.” he called.

the day went as usual. jen and katsuki split at her bus stop and jenny.

that was until she was in class. she immedietly went over to shinso to say hi. “hi shinso! whats up?” she asked.

he was surprised she wanted to talk to him. “uh... nothing much. just doodling.” he shrugged. “cool! i was wondering. do you wanna eat lunch with me today?

“sure why not...”

1/?

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

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A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 3

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2 <<< >>> Part 4

MASTERLIST

Despite following her home, Peter hadn’t felt right since that night a week ago, and his mind constantly jumped back to the scene he had witnessed on his way back from his daily beat around Queens.

He kept thinking he could have taken another way, he could have gone home ten, or even five minutes earlier or later, and then he would have missed her. So many little things had factored in the fact that he saw what happened and intervened before it was too late, it made him dizzy to think about it. So many what ifs…

He had seen her again in class, but she looked completely out of it too. She was a diligent student who always completed her work as far as he knew and seeing her zone out and distractedly doodle in her notebook inside of taking notes made his stomach churn. He knew she was shaken up by what happened, as any person would be in her stead, but it felt wrong that she would keep it all bottled up.

It confirmed his guess about her having no real close friend to talk to, and he had half a mind to stand up in the middle of their applied physics tutorial to sit next to her in a show of support. Except it wouldn’t do, because the last time – and the first time – they interacted, she had yelled at him for standing in her way and not even donating his blood.

Honestly, that wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t exactly tell her why he didn’t donate, now could he? Therefore, he stayed where he was, glancing at her every now and then, as if to make sure she hadn’t burst into silent tears or whatever, and barely listened to the tutorial himself.

It wasn’t just in class either, Peter thought about it all the time. He thought about it way too much for someone who didn’t even talk to the girl or have any kind of relationship with her whatsoever. It kept him awake at night; it made him zone out during conversations with Ned; it distracted him to the point where his dog had to whine to get his attention when she needed to go out for a walk.

It reached a point where he simply had to go talk to her, if only to put his own mind at ease and go back to his routine without having her constantly plague his thoughts.

Like right now, for example. A little snap was all it took to make Peter come down from his cloud.

“Tessa! Tessa!” he called after his dog, who was now dashing away and through the campus, quickly disappearing from sight.

He gave a disbelieving look at his hand, still holding the leash. The short leather leash that just snapped a second ago, allowing Tessa to run away like the devil himself was chasing her. It was more likely to have been a squirrel than the devil that got her to run like this, but the result was the same.

“Fuck,” Peter cursed before running after her.

If there weren’t so many people around, he could have caught up quickly, he could have used his powers – but no, Tessa had wanted to go for a walk now. In the middle of the afternoon. She was already so far ahead, his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Tessa!” he shouted, frozen amidst the crowd, looking around with a panicked look on his face.

Emmeline had reasonably good reflexes. Granted, her mind was a bit elsewhere these days and she often caught herself being distracted in situations she should have been paying attention instead. But when she saw a blurry form dash towards her at lightning speed, recognizing it immediately, she jumped into action so quickly her brain didn’t even process what happened.

She had been walking across the lawn to go to her favorite Sushi shop to buy tonight’s dinner, playing with her stress ball because it was the only thing grounding her this week, when it all happened.

Emmeline brought two fingers between her lips and whistled loud enough to get the dog to freeze and look for the source of the sound, then she quickly threw her little ball to get its attention. Its ears perked up and it lurched forward to get the ball, not caring that it was a small moss ball. The idea was to distract the dog so its master could catch up – Emmeline was no stranger to dogs making a run for it and she saw the broken bit of leash still attached to its collar.

It was a beautiful female pitbull with a light gray coat. She approached it slowly, making sure to not alarm the dog who didn’t know her, but she seemed friendly enough and let her into her close vicinity.

“Here, sweetie,” Emmeline purred, trying for a pat.

The young pit immediately sat down and wagged her tail, looking at the girl with big, happy eyes, tongue out, ball in front of her.

“Well, aren’t you a nice girl,” she continued, now giving her ears a good scratch. “Where’s your master? Mmh?” she hummed, unable to stop talking to the animal.

Now kneeling on the ground, Emmeline took the golden medal hanging at the dog’s collar between her fingers. It said ‘Tessa’, and on the back was a phone number.

“Let’s wait a few minutes before I call your master, what do you say?”

Tessa answered with a low woof and then raised a paw, as if asking for a treat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything with me at the moment.” She usually did carry around dog treats in her bag, but not when she was going to buy food. “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of treats once we return you to your master. He’ll be so happy to see you again.”

People were starting to look at her weird for kneeling on the grass and cooing at a dog that wasn’t hers, having a full-on conversation with it too. She hadn’t talked this much to anyone in a week now, and it felt good just to not be silent all the time.

“Tessa! Tessa come here!” she suddenly heard someone call from a distance.

Tessa must have heard it too, because she turned her head around, searching for the person calling her name.

“See? Didn’t need to call him.”

Emmeline stayed down, holding Tessa by the collar since her leash had broken off, and waiting for the desperate shouts to come closer.

“Here!” she called, waving her arm to get the boy’s attention when she spotted him. He ran so fast, he was in front of her in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, my gosh, Tessa!” He nearly threw himself on the ground to hold his dog, making Emmeline laugh and finally stand up, dusting off her jeans who were now green at the knees. “Never do that to me again!”

Emmeline said nothing but observed the two being reunited with a fond smile on her face, watching the boy shower his dog with love.

“Thank you so, so much-“ he started, looking up at her with a large smile full of gratitude. Then his smile dropped, and Emmeline frowned a bit too.

It was him.

She could tell he wanted to stand up, but he couldn’t just let go of Tessa what with the absence of leash. A slight blush crept to his cheeks and he looked a little bit to her left, right above her shoulder instead of meeting her eyes.

“S-sorry about her,” he started, stuttering out the first word. “She must have seen a squirrel or something, and this leash is so old, I should have bought a new one ages ago.”

“There’s a veterinarian just round the corner over there,” Emmeline said, not answering his apology. “You can’t go home like this, I’m gonna go see if they have a spare leash, stay here.”

“Wha- wait!” he called after all, still sitting on the ground. “You- you don’t have to- I can-“

“Just stay here,” she told him, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

She strode off as quickly as she could, going straight to the veterinarian. Her own cheeks were burning hot – with embarrassment. It was the boy from the Red Cross donation, the boy she had yelled at and belittled in front of a bunch of other students for no valid reason. Gosh, of course it had to be him, she couldn’t finish this week on a positive note.

She shook her head. No, she couldn’t think like that. This was the perfect chance for her to apologize and make things a little better. It was a good occasion to flip this awful week around. Set her karma straight.

Her feet brought her right outside the office, and she waltzed it like she owned the place. There was a little corner where they sold stuff, and Emmeline grabbed the most expensive leash - the same leash that she had at home, this way at least she knew this one was sturdy – and bought it, removing the tag as she stepped out.

The way back was even shorter, and her legs were a little stiff from the tense power-walk. She was just finishing giving herself a pep talk when she reached Tessa and her master.

He was now full on sitting crossed legged on the grass, giving Tessa belly rubs and letting her play with Emmeline’s stress ball. She would need a new one soon.

“Here you go.” She handed him the leash in a rather stiff manner, cursing herself for being so weird about this. Maybe he hadn’t even recognized her?

Bullshit, he had recognized her the second his eyes had landed on her.

“Oh, thank you. You really didn’t have to-“ he started, clipping the new leash on Tessa’s collar and getting rid of the old one.

“Yes, I did,” Emmeline cut him off, hands in her pockets, staring at her boots. “I’m sorry about last week.”

Peter’s shoulders relaxed and he finally stood up, Tessa by his feet, looking at the girl who had seemed so tough last week. She didn’t need to apologize, but he could see it made her feel better, so he didn’t try to convince her otherwise.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he chuckled a tad awkwardly.

When she looked up and met his eyes, the laughter died in his throat. She had impressively deep eyes, very dark, captivating really. He could feel his face heat up again.

“It was uncalled for. I was upset and took it out on you,” she continued. “And I wanted to apologize, but I didn’t see you again, so…” she trailed off, pouting a little.

“We actually have a few classes together,” Peter told her, earning a startled look. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

She sucked in her cheeks a little bit, staring at the hand he offered her. Just when he thought she was going to ignore him she took it in hers.

“Em,” she simply said. “And I’m also sorry for not realizing we shared classes.”

Could she embarrass herself any more than she already had in front of this boy? He seemed kind, she observed. The little crinkles at the corner of his eyes told her he smiled often. He looked like the kind of person who didn’t have a single mean bone in them.

“That’s okay, I’m very unnoticeable,” Peter teased her in an attempt to get a smile out of her. She had been smiling so bright when she petted Tessa, but her entire face dropped as soon as she stood up and began to talk to him. “Invisible, you could say.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She shook her head a bit, wishing she was a bit more invisible to the world. “It could be a superpower.”

Peter laughed weirdly, it was a bit forced, but then again, Emmeline wasn’t the most at ease in this conversation, and it might have rubbed off on him.

“A superpower, yeah,” he repeated. “I’ve always wondered if the Invisible Man had to be naked in order to be fully invisible.”

He could have smacked his head into a brick wall for saying that to this pretty girl who had just saved the day. It was their first real conversation, and he was geeking out on her and talking about nakedness. Just the way to a girl’s heart.

But she laughed this time. And she brightened up the same way she had when she cuddled Tessa.

“Solid theory. You can see his glasses and hat after all, it would make sense.” She shrugged.

Peter was so thoroughly dazzled that he did not know what to say in response to that. If he were having this conversation with Ned, he would know exactly what to answer, but this wasn’t Ned at all. This was the girl that had caught his eye a while ago, and who had just saved him from losing Tessa, and she just made a funny remark about a comics character.

“I- euh-“ Peter blushed so hard he had to look at his feet for a second to collect himself. “I’m going to finish this walk and go back to studying,” he blurted out. It wasn’t a lie, but he could have made a bit more time to talk to her before leaving.

“Yeah, sure.” Emmeline nodded a bit too vigorously. “I also have… things… to do.”

She sure had gone a long way downhill since seventh grade when she had won that elocution prize. It was back when she didn’t cuss every other word.

“How much do I owe you for the leash?”

“Nothing.” She brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Just bought the cheapest one, and I owed you a real apology so… take it.”

Peter wanted to argue but she had a way of just ending the conversation that made it clear she would not take his money even if he shoved it into her wallet directly. She crouched down to say goodbye to Tessa, who licked her hand just as she reached for her chin to give her a few scratches.

“Tessa, c’mon,” Peter groaned. “Sorry about the dog saliva,” he told Emmeline with a sheepish look, his lips brought in a thin line.

“No worries, I’m used to it. I chose the dog owner life,” she laughed, rolling up her sleeve just a bit.

Peter knew that of course, but he had to pretend he did not.

“What kind of dog?”

Emmeline took her time in answering the question, eyes still focused on Tessa.

“Same as you. Female pit. Light brown with just-“ Her finger hovered above Tessa’s left eye to trace a circle. “One white spot here.”

He didn’t say anything else because he couldn’t think about anything other than the way she smiled at Tessa, probably picturing her own dog, eyes full of affection. For a split second, he wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of such a stare.

“Well, I’ll be on my way now,” she told him suddenly, standing up again and meeting his eyes with her intense dark ones. “I’ll keep my eye open in class and… maybe say hi?”

God, Peter would like nothing more than that.

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siribear · 4 years

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alice hauls codsworth back to sanctuary. with half his body blown off, he’s lighter than she’d have thought. but still she half carries, half drags the pile of limbs all the way back to sturges. a raider straggler has the unfortunate luck of meeting her in the woods, only to be gunned down without a thought.

‘fix him,’ she says, covered in sweat and blood, when she all but drops him at sturges’s feet.

he looks like he wants to question her, but thankfully doesn’t. he only smiles at her and nods. ‘he’ll be good as new, don’t you worry.’ he waves over jun long to help him carry codsworth further into sanctuary. ‘and thanks for the seeds. marcy’s already started planting.’

she has notes, alice wants to say, but her voice doesn’t work. instead, she hands over some of the scrap she found. aluminum cans, wires, screws. anything to help. sturges sorts them in the utility belt of his overalls.

she turns on her heel and makes for abernathy farm.

lucy isn’t surprised to see her come over the horizon, but blake and connie do a double take at the sight of her.

‘we didn’t think you’d actually get it. you kinda stop believing in stuff like this, nowadays,’ connie explains. ‘listen, any time you want to trade, you just ask. we’ll take care of you.’

alice forces a smile. ‘and will you join the minutemen? try to trust us again?’

connie and blake look at each other. behind them, lucy is practically bouncing in place.

‘we talked about it this morning,’ blake says. ‘we’re in. we’ll support the minutemen again.’ he looks to connie with the locket hanging from her fingers and smiles. ‘the commonwealth could use more people like you guys.’

‘we won’t let you down.’ alice bows her head slightly. ‘and actually, i’d like to discuss opening up further trade for the future...’

by the end of it, they agree to supply the minutemen with food as long as the minutemen provide protection for the farm. connie and blake return to working the land, while lucy stands next to her, grinning.

‘knew you could do it.’

‘it was easy,’ alice says with a flippant wave of her hand. she hooks her thumbs in her pockets. ‘that locket the raiders stole - they just stuffed it in some toolbox with a screwdriver and some duct tape. didn’t even care about it after they took it.’

‘well, yeah. doubt they could even get fifteen caps for it even if mom’s family has had it for generations.’

alice sighs. ‘that’s the thing. these raiders took something important to someone and pretty much tossed it away. they killed your sister, took it, and treated it like it was trash. it’s... disgusting. morally.’

lucy just stares. ‘you’re really serious about this stuff, huh?’

‘yeah. yeah, i guess i am.’

by noon, alice returns to sanctuary, more caps in hand. however, it’s preston that greets her at the bridge.

‘hey. sturges said i missed you this morning. good you see you made it back.’

‘had to drop something off at the abernathy’s. and,’ she begins with a wink, ‘they agreed to support the minutemen.’

his eyes go wide. ‘really?’

she cants her head to the side, smiling. ‘did you doubt me?’

‘n-no, it’s not that. i just.. can’t believe we’re really doing this. rebuilding the minutemen, i mean.’ he rubs the back of his head. ‘just yesterday we were trapped in the museum, and now this? it’s like a dream.’

alice pauses, considering. to him, this is a dream. to her - ‘we’re just getting started, preston.’

he nods, and she watches his demeanor change. he settles, shoulders squaring. ‘actually, there’s something else i want to talk to you about.’

‘more dark and terrible minuteman secrets?’

preston laughs at that. ‘not as far as i know. but i want to talk to you about... leading the minutemen.’ he holds up a hand when she tries to interject. ‘hear me out. we need a leader, someone who can bring us together. you can do that, you did that.

alice, i’m asking you to be the general of the minutemen.’

she reels. ‘i - me? preston, you just met me. i only learned about the minutemen yesterday. shouldn’t you lead them?’

he shakes his head. ‘i can lead my men through a fire fight, but i’m not general material. you helped us when you didn’t have to. i don’t think you understand how... different, that is.’

her mouth thins into a grimace. ‘that’s kind of sad, actually.’ she clears her throat. ‘look, i want to help you. i do.’ his face falls, and it breaks her heart, just a little. ‘i will. but i want you to think about this, okay? this is all very sudden.’

‘i... understand,’ he says slowly. ‘i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to - ’ he sighs. ‘i need to finish checking the area. excuse me.’

damn, she thinks when he leaves. alice rubs at her eyes, tries not to imagine the bags there, and heads further into sanctuary. the sound of a blowtorch carries across the road from sturges’s makeshift workshop, but alice forces herself not to look. dogmeat trots over with a happy woof.

‘good job delivering those seeds, boy,’ she says, scratching his ears.

he woofs again.

alice grabs a box of preserved snack cakes from her stash of food and heads back to her room. unfortunately, with all the windows blown out and the curtains torn apart, the view from her bed is the workshop. and, of course, sturges knelt in front of a pile of metal limbs, screwdriver in hand as he tries to put together one reminder of her old life.

when sturges takes a break, so does she. half of her snack cakes sit abandoned (at least, until dogmeat gets to them) next to her bed when she leaves her house. she spies jun long struggling to carry two buckets of water from the newly fixed water pump and heads over to help him.

‘thank you,’ he says, quiet enough that she almost doesn’t hear him.

‘we haven’t had a chance to talk, have we?’ she makes her voice light. ‘how are you holding up?’

‘it’s... it’s getting better.’ he shifts his weight when water splashes onto one leg. ‘i’m glad we came here.’ he sets the bucket down at the edge of the garden and she does the same. ‘we - marcy and i - lost our son, before we came here. i promised i’d keep him safe, but i... couldn’t,’ he finishes lamely.

alice takes a steadying breath. exhales. ‘i know how you feel. it isn’t easy.’

jun gasps. ‘but you’re still - you’re still going. you haven’t given up yet.’

‘i can’t,’ she says. ‘i still have people to live for.’

he turns his head, and alice follows his gaze to his wife, weeding the area around her planted seeds. ‘i-i see. thank you. thank you, i understand. sorry, no one wants to see a grown man feeling sorry for himself.’

‘hey,’ she starts, softly, ‘what was your son’s name?’

‘kyle.’ his voice is louder, more sure. ‘his name was kyle.’

dinner calls alice and the quincy survivors to one of the houses without a collapsed ceiling. sturges, jun, mama murphy, and alice gather in the living room while marcy stirs a cooking pot over a small fire. no need for ventilation when half the wall is made of holes. even preston joins them, eventually, though he sits on the other end of the couch, putting mama murphy between him and alice.

she sighs. mama murphy gives her a knowing look, and alice knows it doesn’t take a drug induced sight see the tension rolling off of preston. he hardly looks at either of them, laser musket held tight between both hands.

thankfully, marcy serves dinner soon after, ladling some sort of soup into a scavenged assortment of bowls. jun hands out cans of clean water to each of them. alice pops hers open first.

‘hang on a moment,’ sturges interrupts. ‘now, this is the first time we’ve all,’ he looks to her, ‘been together since we got here. i just wanted to say another thank you to alice for getting us here.’ he raises his can in her direction. ‘to alice,’ he says, and drinks.

‘to alice,’ a murmured chorus repeats. then, louder, is preston’s, ‘to alice.’

she drinks.

the food is disgusting. her first sip sends a shiver up her spine, but no one else complains. the others eat almost enthusiastically, but all alice can taste is barely flavored water. and soggy meat. the vegetables are passable, though all she can manage is one more bite before she has to set her bowl aside. dogmeat eagerly finishes her leftovers once again.

mama murphy grins at her, too knowing, and it sends alice outside with a quick thank you to marcy before leaving.

‘marcy’s food is an acquired taste,’ preston says from behind her.

she turns and makes a face. ‘it’s not a taste i’ve acquired.’

he chuckles. ‘i wanted to say i’m sorry, for earlier. i shouldn’t have put all that on you so soon.’

‘don’t worry about it. i think i’m starting to understand.’ she shoves her hands in her pockets.

‘good.’ he takes a step closer. ‘because i still think i’m right. and believe me, i’ve thought about it.’

she looks up at him, at his earnest eyes, his determined frown. and sighs. ‘if you’re absolutely sure.’

he rocks forward on the balls of his feet. ‘i am! and the benefit of being the last minuteman: there’s no one to disagree with me. general,’ he adds with a grin.

‘if i’m going to be general, i want my own fancy hat.’ she flicks the brim of his. ‘it’s just not fair if my second in command has one and i don’t.’

‘easy enough,’ he says, smile growing. it’s incredibly endearing and makes her want to believe she can do this. ‘there was another settlement that requested help,’ there’s a pause for before but he continues, sparing a glance for codsworth’s... body, in the corner of the workshop, ‘i’ll go with you, this time. at least until sturges finishes putting codsworth back together.’

‘we’ll leave in the morning, then. i need to sleep off the memory of whatever it is i just ate.’

‘roger that, general.’

alice frowns. it’ll take getting used to.

#siri drabbles #oc: alice ward #y'all at this rate i'll never meet deacon wtf #series: we will all go together when we go

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brokasteltranslations · 6 years

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Fate/Requiem: Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a great war. It happened long ago, before I was born. And then it ended, and the world entered an age of peace.

–

In the modern era, each and every person held within their heart a tiny Holy Grail, which was nothing more or less than that person's preordained destiny. And each and every person was capable of summoning a Servant allotted them by fate, in accordance with the guidance of the Grail.

Servants were an information resource by nature, accumulated throughout human history. Their souls were enshrined in the Throne of Heroes, a place which transcended the bounds of space and time. By 'downloading' them from this Throne, it was possible to manifest them in our world.

–

The shape of the world changed greatly after the war. This town was born anew - reorganised into city units, known collectively as Mosaic City. Among them was Akihabara, the Maritime City, which I called home. Sea levels had risen dramatically as a result of global warming, and now the city quite literally bordered on the ocean. The Kanda river's name was nothing more than a vestige of the pre-war era; in reality, it was nothing more than a canal through which sea water flowed.

–

This town was watched over by the Holy Grail, and not a day went by when its citizens did not partake of its bounties. Those survivors from before the war had been given the opportunity to obtain a Grail upon its conclusion, while those young enough to have been born after the war, like Karin, possessed one within their hearts from birth.

The Grail had brought immortality to the masses. The principal causes of death in the old world – biological factors such as ageing, genetic degradation, infectious diseases, viruses and malignant cancers – had all been conquered. By expending Command Seals, one could even manipulate their biological age. In this city, one of humanity's oldest, dearest wishes – eternal youth – had been realised.

–

But I was different. I alone stood apart. I was the only citizen of this city who had not been granted a Holy Grail. I had been born into this new world, but I would age naturally – and, eventually, die – with all the senselessness characteristic of the old. An irregularity, born outside of the sight of the Grail. That was what I was – me, Utsumi Erice.

With no Holy Grail, I had no Servant to contract with as my partner. Every once in a while, someone would be unable to stifle the urge to ask me how that felt. If it were up to me, I would laugh at them, and tell them that they'd never understand even if I tried to explain – but I'd been chided no small number of times by my master for that. You would be remiss to be callous in your interaction with your social environment, if you wish to live peacefully in this new world.

So, for lack of anything else to say, I answered them like this:

“Imagine you were incredibly short-sighted, to the point where you could hardly see, but you were told you weren't allowed to wear glasses.”

“Imagine being told you had to travel somewhere on foot, while everyone else was allowed to use trains and buses.”

“Imagine going somewhere you've never been before, only to find that the navigation app on your smartphone was an unusable piece of junk.”

The question I had by far the most trouble with was the question of how I survived day-to-day life without Command Seals, which were one of the bounties of the Grail. On that point, no matter how thoroughly I tried to explain, most other people seemed to struggle to understand my situation any more than vaguely, and ultimately had no interest anyway. That was the ideal response, as far as I was concerned. I could find no fault with that.

There were also those who genuinely understood, and responded with exaggerated surprise and sympathy. Some would offer me the usage of their own Command Seals, assuring me with fawning pity that I could come to them if there was ever anything they could do for me. There were even a few so selflessly empathetic that they claimed to truly want to trade places with me – although always with some condition attached, by which they could return things to normal if they so pleased.

Every such encounter reminded me anew that I was nothing more than an amusement to them. A means of flattering their own altruistic sensibilities, and of relieving their boredom for a little while.

Akihabara was a labyrinth in three dimensions, not just two. In a block nestled a comfortable distance from the downtown area on the middle stratum, bordering a natural public park, stood a multi-storey building housing a collection of public service facilities. Contained on one floor of this building was the classroom I frequented.

I had arrived slightly late for the start time, and hurriedly took my seat. The wide, fan-shaped room was almost devoid of students. This was decidedly not a facility for compulsory education; it was offered the people at large educational lecture courses aimed at fostering lifelong learning. Citizens of all ages took the course, and attending every single lecture was virtually unheard-of. Consequently, I was known as something of an eccentric.

The people here knew nothing of the battle of immortals that occurred last night. Those kinds of incidents never made the news.

–

Well then – it was time for Pre-War Human History.

That was the name of the course I was taking. Unfortunately, it could hardly have been called the most popular subject. The content of the lectures was much closer to trivia than education. The main goal of Pre-War Human History comprised learning about the human race's greatest triumphs and blunders in the world of the past. It was...well, to put it bluntly, dry.

In the first place, Akihabara was Mosaic City's premier resort. Students who were sincerely striving to learn, or families concerned with the proper education of their children, would simply up and leave for another district. I had an inclination that this space only really existed to entertain the interests of the lecturer at the front of the hall – my master, Ms. Fujimura.

–

Oh, it looks like that girl's here again.

I cast a quick glance out over the lecture theatre from my usual perch at the back. A small, familiar figure was sat in the very front row, concentrating intently on the lecture. She had come again today. As a rule, I never saw students younger than myself attending these lectures, so she had stuck in my memory. She was a pale child, short in stature, and perhaps old enough to be at the upper end of elementary school. Her voice and attitude during the occasions that she posed questions to the lecturer had given me the impression that she was female, but there was no guarantee. All kinds of people lived in this city.

Her had was invariably pulled down low over her head, and her eyes were covered by her bangs, so I hadn't ever seen her face clearly. I had never engaged her in conversation, and I didn't even know her name. She appeared in lectures once a month or so; I felt a distinct disconnect between her keen attitude in lectures and her abysmal attendance rate.

Today, her standing record for youngest lecture attendee had been broken. The new champion was none other than my companion: the stray Servant I had taken in last night, the golden-haired child. He was at least sitting in his seat for now without making a fuss, but he was fidgeting constantly - rocking his body to and fro, and sometimes lying down as though trying to savour the feeling of the cool wood of the chair. Or so I was thinking, before he suddenly turned to peer into my face, obstructing my view of my tablet.

“You think you're a cat or something?”

“...Ca-...cat?”

“Maybe you're more of a dog, huh. Your hair's all floofy.”

“Dog?”

“Yeah, a dog. You know, woof-woof.”

“I know dogs.”

“Oh, really? Well, I'm glad for y- what the hell do you think you're doing!?”

He had scrambled up onto the seat of his chair, planted both hands on the desk and begun to howl, loud and proud.

Awooooo! Ow-ow-owooo! Awoooooo!

He finished his surprisingly accurate rendition, flashing a beaming smile. I sat for a moment in silent astonishment – and might perhaps have thought for a moment that it was a little endearing, although this really wasn't the time for that.

“Hey, stop that! Get down from there!”

Give me a break. I was just about to give you credit for at least not being as loud as Karin, and you go and pull this. The other attendees were turning back to look at us now, searching for the source of the noise.

“I'm sorry. We'll be quiet. I'm really sorry.”

My master had stopped giving her lecture, and was cocking her head at us. The girl in the front row was looking too. If looks could kill, the glare boring into me from beneath her bangs would have dropped me stone dead. Although I couldn't exactly blame her for getting annoyed at someone bringing this commotion into a class.

Yes miss I'm so terribly sorry I won't do it again...ugh, what did I do to deserve this...

I had no way of knowing how to handle a young child like this boy in the first place – but that said, I also couldn't possible have left him behind in my apartment by himself. And I had thought to myself that I might learn something about him if I brought him here with me.

“Don't dogs say “bow-wow” in English, anyway?”

“Boh-roh.”

“Not even close. Must be nice to be able to mimic things like that, huh...”

Ohh boy. Starting to get the feeling I'm not going to be learning much from today's lecture...

I rested my head on my hand and pouted. Gazing idly at the young boy's angelic face out of the corner of my eye, I cast my mind back through my memories of my baptism last night.

It had happened on the previous evening, after I had been fished from the riverbed by Karin and Kouyou on the wharf. To cut a long story short, I decided to take the boy back to my apartment and put him up for the night, still none the wiser about who he was or where he had come from.

–

I had been living on my own ever since parting ways with my grandmother.

In a quiet corner of Akihabara, there was a small, depopulated district that most people avoided. Before the war, it had comprised a collection of multi-purpose buildings crammed to bursting with shops, but they had all been abandoned after the Grail's large-scale restructuring of the city. My apartment consisted of a room in one such building.

The inside of the room was decorated in Victorian style. Every inch of floor was covered by wooden floorboards, and its antique interior had been preserved unaltered. Apparently, it had originally housed some kind of dubious culinary establishment known as a “maid cafe”.

–

My apartment wasn't exactly designed for ease of living, but it was furnished with a proper bathroom and bedroom, and was more than sufficient for one person to live in comfortably. It even had a veranda, albeit a small one. From the window of my bedroom I could gaze out over a small vertical slice of ocean hemmed in by the surrounding buildings.

–

My opportunities to invite another person back to this humble abode were rare. Considering my job, the risks involved in freely letting others know where I lived were far too high. The only reason I had brought this child back with me was that it would have been too irresponsible to leave him to his own devices. I didn't even know who his contractor was; to have allowed him to freely roam the town would have been unthinkable.

He might have manifested in the form of an innocent child, but that only set me more on edge. I had allowed myself to be disarmed by a target's outward appearance before, on a previous job, and had made a grave mistake because of it. A Servant I had believed nothing more than an angelic young child - like purity itself sculpted in alabaster - had harboured a terrible darkness. The Avenger, Louis XVII. The incident that arose around that particular monstrosity had ultimately claimed not only the life of his Master, but those of a great number of innocents as well.

At the time, I had not yet fully graduated from childhood. Louis and I had been similar in stature, and I had thought we could have been good friends. In the end, however, my friendship and goodwill had been used and turned against me. That incident was not one I would forget easily.

–

There was another reason that I had brought this stray child back with me: I had been driven to my wits' end in another sense. Frankly speaking, I could not take it any more: the rank stench that permeated the both of us had become unbearable, and I could not bear to go another minute without washing it off.

The culprit was the oil slick near the quay that I'd had the ill fortune to be dragged through when I was fished out of the Kanda river. Petroleum-based waste oil, that had leaked from one of the boats moored in the harbour. I had hardly had the time to worry about such things immediately after being deposited on the wharf, but now that I had returned to my senses the discomfort was driving me to distraction. Pouring water over myself or wiping myself down with paper towels would do nothing to remove this - I needed a proper bath.

I had been stopped by a worried Karin when I had tried to totter my way home, still bearing a serious wound that I had no right to have recovered from so quickly. She had only seen me off after I had explained about the charms and such that I kept in my house. She was easygoing like that.

I had tried to invite her to stay the night here, but she had breezily turned me down, saying that she had a friend in the vicinity who would put her up for the night. Karin's social connections remained as much a mystery to me as ever. Although she had given me a rueful smile, saying that her family would be angry with her for returning home the following morning.

–

In any case, I had finally returned home, and could allow myself to relax a little. I looked the boy over once more, this time with the aid of my apartment's artificial lights.

“Hold on. Hey, no, wait, wait, wait! Don't just go right in! Just stand here for a minute.”

I grabbed him by his sodden scarf and yanked him back, prompting a visible sulk.

“Uh...sorry.”

So he did possess emotions, and the capacity to appeal to them. That would be useful, at least.

Both of us looked ridiculous, soaked from head to toe and glistening with oil. I was at least wearing swimwear and a windbreaker in place of my ordinary clothes, but his lot was a much more miserable one. I could feel my memories of the unearthly spectacle I had witnessed below the surface of the water growing more distant by the minute.

Alll-righty. I pulled myself together, and sank to one knee in the entranceway, looking over this child once more from top to toe.

He at least appeared to be eight, maybe nine years old. He was Caucasian, with the pale features particular to Scandinavian climes - although given that Servants were as much concept as they were genetics, any attempt to determine their race was close to meaningless. His hair was a pale blonde, almost white, and it had been left to grow freely.

His scarf was sodden, and hung limp around his neck. Or maybe it was a muffler? Well, it wasn't as though it mattered. It was composed of fabric knitted from some strange, gaudy material – it was hard to say if it was actual gold, or just extremely intricate needlework. His clothing looked to be made of cotton, and had a simple design, reminiscent of a Greek-style tunic. He had a small embroidered design on his chest, which I made a note of as a potentially important clue.

His belt and shoes were made of the same material as his scarf. The heels of the latter had a strange design; they were tapered towards the back, like spurs used for riding horses. I could have taken that as an indication that in life he had been some sort of knight – but nothing else about him gave that impression. He's nothing like any other Saber or Rider-class Servants I've seen.

His pale blue eyes stared back at me questioningly as I scrutinised him. I was seized by a sudden rush of curiosity.

“Hey. Do you think you could tell me where you came from?”

He smoothly lifted an arm to point towards the ceiling.

“From the sky? From Heaven? You don't mean from the moon, do you?”

He shook his head at all of them.

“I've come...from somewhere very far away.”

“All Servants have.”

“...Really?” He must have found something amusing, because his face blossomed into a smile, and he giggled. I was relieved at the unexpected ease with which I was able to communicate with him, although it seemed like he was still struggling to understand what I was saying.

His first words had been in halting English, but from the way he had appeared to be listening in on the conversation between me and Karin I would venture that he at least understood our language. If he was a Servant who had been summoned legitimately, he would have been granted a bare minimum level of common knowledge about the modern era by the Grail, as well as the linguistic capabilities necessary to express himself to others naturally. However, now that I was trying to determine his true name, that was only serving to impede my search.

As I questioned him, I produced a pair of scissors and carefully snipped a five-millimetre length of thread from the back of his tunic, which I deposited in a zip-lock sample bag.

“Would you mind letting me take one of your hairs as well?”

It looked like he was giving me the ok. He did as I asked, without resisting, and as I did he asked me a question.

“Have you come from somewhere far away like me, Eri?”

“Don't call me that. Did you get that from Karin? Alright, listen here. I'm not “Eri”, I'm not “Old man Eri”, and I'm not “Eri-pie”. I'm Erice. Utsumi Erice.”

“Hmm.”

He remained staring at me, giving me no indication whether or not he'd understood. His reaction was a little dispiriting, but I continued anyway. If I kept talking, I might be able to glean something.

“It's not all that far away, really. I was born in Shinjuku. I'm fourteen now, so I guess you could call me a middle schooler, but I don't usually go to school anyway.”

“What's a 'school'?”

“A school is...it's where you go to learn. It's a big building where lots of children all go. Or at least, that's what I hear it was like before the war. They've changed a lot since then.”

“You don't go to school, Eri?”

“I told you to call me Erice. And I don't need to. I'm passing my academic evaluations, and I'm getting the credits I need from extracurricular courses. And I show up for health inspections and such.”

“You don't want to go to school, do you?”

I grit my teeth. He'd hit the nail on the head. He was annoyingly good at that.

“It's...not a matter of whether I want to go or not. I...I have more important things to do.”

“You're alone.” He cocked his head, and then broke out into another smile. “Just like me.”

I suppressed my irritation silently as I tapped at my tablet. I was trying a search for the symbol embroidered on his chest, but nothing was coming up. Just in case, I tried accessing the city network, but no-one had registered any missing Servants - although it wasn't as though that was a frequent occurrence anyway. I could ask my master about any information that might be being suppressed on a public level, but I could hardly go blithely to her cap-in-hand. Not after I had tried to hide from her that I had disobeyed her orders and let Kundry go.

Even so, there was one theory as to his identity that I had managed to come up with. Spurred on by that, I decided to bite the bullet.

“So, which Servant are you?”

“...?”

He tilted his head in confusion. Was he trying to play dumb? It didn't look like an act, at any rate. It seemed that somehow, he really didn't understand the concept of a Servant. Was that even possible?

“I'm asking about your true name. Although your nickname will do, if that's better-known.”

Once, Servants would not have revealed their true name lightly, but that was before the war. In the modern world, it had become more of a question of personal privacy. No small number of Servants had origins that could complicate life in Mosaic City if they became known to others, and the degree of discretion necessary might also change depending on their relationship with their Master.

This boy likely wouldn't talk about his true name if his unknown Master did not wish it. And all the more so if he didn't have one at all.

“Your name, I said. Tell me your name.”

“...Name?”

“That's right. Your name.”

“Don't you know it?”

“...Huh? Don't I...you mean my name?”

It was supposed to be me asking the questions here. I was starting to feel that if I just allowed this wide-eyed child to talk at his own pace, I would end up the one being profiled.

Abruptly, he opened his mouth again. “There's something I've lost.”

“Something you've lost? What did you lose?”

“I don't know.”

I heaved a sigh. At the same moment, a sharp stench once more pricked at my nostrils.

“It sounds like you're suffering from memory loss. I think things like that can happen after summoning...? Well, anyway, there's nothing we can do for now. And I'm about at my wits' end, so right now I'm going to have a shower. I'll let you use the bathroom too, so go on ahead.”

“Show-er?”

“A shower. You know, like a bath.”

“...A bath?”

“Wait, you really don't know? Don't tell me you don't even know what a shower is? Hang on, have you ever even had a wash?”

He shook his head. Apparently he really hadn't ever experienced a bath. Although even if he hadn't, surely the idea itself fell under common knowledge.

Do your job, Holy Grail.

For as long as I had lived here, my bathroom had been rather chic. It had a French-style interior, and was easily wide enough for two people. The star of the show was a shallow enamel bathtub, pulled straight from a western movie. Incidentally, the bedroom was decorated in equally charming fashion, and was the biggest reason I chose this apartment.

The design was uncharacteristically luxurious for a department store coffee shop. Either the owner had been extremely specific tastes...or from the beginning, this building had been designed with less-than-wholesome purposes in mind. Probably the latter. Not that that had anything to do with me; I was nothing more than a grateful beneficiary. But it did mean one more thing for Karin to tease me about.

I gritted my teeth, and led the boy by the hand to the bathroom. He was still dawdling, unsure as to what was going on. I had him take off his clothes and made him stand in the dressing room. Then I set to filling the bathtub, removing my own dirtied clothing as I did so. He's just a kid. What's there to be embarrassed about? Nothing! That's right, nothing at all.

There was still an outside chance that he would turn out to have the mind of a middle-aged man, but I'd cross that bridge if I came to it.

“I suppose I'd better put my swimsuit in to soak...ouch!”

Agony lanced through me as I twisted my body the wrong way. I re-treated the injury to my abdomen, and covered it over with a water-resistant patch. It was still undergoing accelerated recovery, and it was warm to the touch. The wound was serious enough that with the treatment methods of the past, oligemic shock and acute inflammation would have been unavoidable. But this new world had conquered death itself, and treatments for injuries and accidents had not been overlooked on the way. Many technologies had been developed during the war, and now I reaped the benefits.

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

His eyes were drawn to the scar on my ear, and he screwed up his face.

“It isn’t nice, is it? Every thorn-prick makes its own hole.”

“...You said it.”

Was he worrying that I might be left with a scar, in his own way? If so, he was quite the gentleman.

“But it's ok. Kouyou patched it up for me, so it'll heal with time.”

For my part, I carefully looked his naked body up and down once more. This was a vital step in my investigation, and thus an entirely proper and lawful act.

He was...definitely a boy, yep.

–

Once I had painstakingly washed away the cause of the stench, I finally entered the bathtub - along with the boy, who was trying to escape at any opportunity.

“It's hot.”

“That's what's good about it. Ordinary Servants love to take baths. They're all very happy to get in. There are even some who have baths as their Noble Phantasms. There's one who summons this great big bathchamber, called Terme di Caracalla...”

“I want to get out.”

He was pulling a very sullen expression, but at least he was being obedient.

I can't see any scars on him. His muscles and weight don't seem any different from a normal child's, either. I found it very hard to believe that he might be some kind of knight summoned in their youth. When he'd said that he didn't know what a bath was, the first thing I'd suspected was child abuse; Heroic Spirits who had come from such unhappy backgrounds were too numerous to count. But he showed no sign of having received that kind of treatment, or at least not outwardly.

My confidence in my hypothesis was growing stronger, and I decided to put it to the test.

–

I stretched out from the bathtub. With the steam-clouded mirror as my canvas, I drew a picture of a hat with my fingertip. It was a crude sketch of an old-fashioned, wide-brimmed men's hat with a slightly indented top, as seen from the side.

“Hey. Can you tell me what this is?” I asked him hesitantly, my chest pounding nervously. It only took a brief glance at the picture before he answered.

“It's...a snake.”

I started. For a moment, I was lost for words.

“It looks like it's eaten something big.”

He'd answered my question perfectly.

“It scares me a little.”

Droplets fell from his body as he shivered and turned away. I hadn't even imagined that he might show such a violent reaction. I quickly wiped away the picture on the mirror, and found myself patting his head to try and reassure him. I could feel the slickness of his wet hair and the warmth of his body through the palm of my hand.

“What about “B-612”? Or maybe you could call it “Besixdouze”?”

“Yes.” He nodded in answer. No hesitation.

“You know it?”

“It's a planet, isn't it? But there's no-one there.”

I was silent for a moment. That's right. It's a planet. Of course it is.

“I see...so there's no-one there. But I think...I might know your true name now.”’

B-612 was the name of an asteroid that orbited the solar system. It was not remarkable in any way, save for the fact that it had been discovered by a Japanese national. It would hardly be included in the common knowledge that the Holy Grail bestowed upon Servants. But that asteroid was named for a novella from a foreign country, and the title of that novella was “The Little Prince”.

On a sudden impulse, I embraced him. In the bathtub, I wrapped my arms around his narrow shoulders from behind, and squeezed him tight. So as not to break him. So as not to hurt him.

“If only...if only you had been my Servant...”

He showed no sign of answering me.

Before entering the bathtub, as I was washing myself, I had checked everywhere. Desperately, I had searched to see if Command Seals, the proof of a contract with a Servant, had appeared anywhere on my body. I had strained my eyes in the mirror, checking my back, beneath the translucent medical patch, even the soles of my feet. But they were nowhere to be seen.

Then I was no-one's Master. I could not have made any contract with this boy through the Grail. I was just the Reaper, the same as I had always been.

In that case, what had that sense of foreboding been?

What had that trembling been in my chest? That sense that something had begun that would change my life forever?

In the end, it had all just been my own wishful thinking.

–

After the bath, we retired to my living-cum-dining room, where a mahogany table had stood ever since this place was a cafe. The boy sat in a chair, working his way through a lasagne that I had microwaved from frozen. I was recording the day's events, tablet in hand and a towel around my head, and I was blushing as red as his bolognese sauce. I felt incredibly embarrassed. This boy hadn't even yet come of age, but I had suddenly embraced him, whispered something that felt almost like a confession of love, and then ended up crying. While naked, no less.

His only response, after a while had passed, had been to furrow his eyebrows and complain “It's hot”.

“Is that good?”, I asked.

“It tastes.”

“Really? Sounds great.”

The samples I had taken earlier were on the table. Both contents of the zip-lock bag had vanished, just as I had expected. Separated from his body, his hair and the thread from his tunic had ceased to exist in their pseudo-physical form, and had reverted to being part of his mana. In other words, his body and the clothes he wore were woven from the stuff. That made for strong evidence that he was a Servant - but it was unneeded, because an easier way to tell was right before my eyes. The clothes that I had left on the floor of the dressing room had since returned to a clean, dry state.

The scarf that he wore around his neck floated freely, with no regard for the laws of physics. Even while he was eating, it fluttered gently, as though rising upon the wind. Needless to say, there was no wind inside my apartment.

He couldn't be the Simoun...could he? The poison wind?

–

The night had grown late, and I wrestled with the sleepiness and exhaustion that assailed me as I stared at my tablet. I thought back to the words I had exchanged with the Flying Dutchman, Captain Van der Decken. Every word of the warning he had given me lay heavy on my breast.

Until it became clear that our enemy was the mad queen, he had maintained a policy of non-interference, and only once had he commented on my methods. He had been cursed by a devil of the ocean. My lot was not too dissimilar - for I too was cursed, and possessed by evil spirits. Living my life beyond the sight of the Grail, I might as well have been a naked offering to them. But that was also the reason that I'd lasted as long as I had in this job.

I had let my guard down. I had allowed myself to believe that Captain Van der Decken and I might have been able to find an understanding, as bearers of the same fate. But he had seen through those naïve expectations, and had roughly spurned my advances.

“You have grown to feel joy in the act of slaying Servants, under the pretence of executing the authority of the city. Though you think yourself the master of your spectres, they in turn use you.”

He was telling me, in a roundabout way, that I was intoxicated by the idea of being a superhero. That what I had believed to be pride was in fact conceit.

“Someday, Erice, you will call forth a great evil. And when that time comes, that which you have clung to so dearly will instead force you to your knees.”

Unable to accept his words and fiercely ashamed, I had retorted with some frivolous argument - although I could admit now that it had just been something I had cooked up to make myself feel better. At the time I had thought he was just trying to put me in my place, but thinking back on it now, his words might have been as much in reproach of himself as they had been for me. His relationship with his contractor Aheseurus - equal in spite of being Master and Servant - spoke more eloquently of his sincerity than words ever could.

“Are you paying attention, Erice?”

I was brought out of my reverie by my master's polite chiding.

“You seem very tired. Perhaps it might be for the best if you took a moment to rest in the break room? I can prepare the lecture material for your perusal later, if you'd like.”

I let out a whimper. This was embarrassing. My second disgrace this morning. I shook my head vigorously. My master nodded, and recommenced the lecture in a soft voice.

–

Her name was Caren Fujimura. She was the lecturer responsible for this class, and also my master. I had known her for as long as I could walk.

Outwardly, she appeared to be in her twenties. She had light amber eyes, and wavy, pale grey hair that cascaded down to the small of her back. Her body combined a slender build with voluptuous Hispanic curves. Most notable of all, however, was her impeccable sense of style. Nobody else could come close to its audacity. Today, too, she looked sharp as a knife.

Or at least, I thought so, but waxing lyrical on the subject only seemed to earn me pained smiles from Karin and others. Well, it wasn't as though I cared anyway. If I was the only one who could understand her magnificence, so be it.

“...?”

The boy, who had been quiet at my side for a long time, had begun focusing on my master when she had spoken to me. Now he turned his gaze to the skirt of my school uniform, then to his own trousers, and cocked his head. He turned his head to make one more pass, carefully comparing, and then spoke with some conviction.

“She isn't wearing anything down there.”

“That she isn't.”

My master really was incredible.

It was not on account of her position as my lecturer that I called Caren Fujimura my master. Nor was it on account of her being my fashion role model. She was inhuman, in every way, and not in the sense of being part of the new postwar humanity. She was an artificial intelligence – an AI.

More precisely, she was the municipal administration AI tasked with the management of the Akihabara ward. A human interface that allowed the Grail to communicate directly with the people of the city. A hybrid intelligence – the most valuable in the city – born of the fusion of summoning magecraft, modelled on the kind that called forth Heroic Spirits, and cutting-edge information engineering technology. Such was the true nature of Caren Fujimura.

–

Ms. Fujimura's lecture on pre-war human history continued. Today's topic was the history and profiles of the great pioneers. Those brave adventurers who sailed west on crude wooden vessels, carving a path to an unknown lands. Those bold explorers who discovered – or rediscovered – the distant new world, and secured the shipping routes that would become the lifeblood of a global civilisation.

–

She spoke of Eric the Red, who crossed from Europe to Greenland and settled there. Of his son, Lief Ericsson, who made landfall in the northeast of North America and named it “Vinland”. Of the roots of the Polynesians, who propagated across the islands of the south Pacific in canoes little better than rafts, and were sometimes set adrift by rogue currents to journey thousands of kilometres.

Of Christopher Columbus, the conqueror who never once lost sight of his dream; who sailed to the farthest reaches of the western sea aboard the legendary Santa Maria, and there rediscovered the new world. Of Vasco de Gama, who crossed the Cape of Good Hope and pioneered the Indian trade route. Of the Cape itself - the southern tip of the African continent and one of the great perils of the Age of Discovery, where Captain Van der Decken's Dutch galleon met its fate upon the rocks.

She told of Ferdinand Magellan, whose vessels first circumnavigated the world. Although he perished before the completion of his journey, his feat proclaimed to the world beyond all doubt that the earth was not flat, but round. Through him, the people came to know that the world they lived on was just one more celestial body like the moon or Mars, forging silently onwards through the void.

And here too was the first captain to circumnavigate the globe: Francis Drake, the privateer! Ah, here was the magnificent Golden Hind! I had already been absorbed in the lecture, but here my excitement reached its zenith, my mind filling with daydreams of the open sea.

From Servants who had lived through the same era, I had heard tales that Drake, the admiral who broke the back of the invincible Spanish Armada, had in truth been a woman more gallant than any man. That the man who set the sun had, in fact, been the woman who set the sun. I personally found them impossible to believe, and I'd also heard them refuted by other pirate Servants. Stories like that ain't nothin' more'n piss in the wind, girly. Drake was a man, sure as my beard is long.

It was a common enough story when it came to Servants. Some ages of history had placed little importance on gender distinctions. Conversely, in others women had been so oppressed that they could only perform heroic deeds whilst disguised in men's clothing. Such confusion was liable to muddy historical records.

Even if Drake had been female, it would do nothing to tarnish the glory of her legend.

–

My enriching study time was now approaching its end, although I had struggled to focus on all of the contents of the lecture.

“I would like to give a brief introduction to one final figure. An American man whose one small step signified a giant leap for mankind.”

The screen changed in sync with Ms. Fujimura's commentary. Now it displayed a world of extreme contrasts: a sea of grey regolith, and the dark vacuum of space. Within the shadow thrown by a lunar lander, a figure in a space suit descended a ladder to stand upon the moon's surface.

“This was the first man to stand on the face of the moon. He, too, counts among the great pioneers of the human race.”

“...Eh...?”

A single voice arose, quavering not with wonder but with astonishment.

“A human went to the moon...? A living human?”

The source of the voice was none other than the young girl in the front row.

“Indeed. It would be fifty-six years before the modern day. Three astronauts ventured to the moon, and two among them descended to walk upon its surface.”

“More than half a century ago? There weren't even control units back then capable of calculating orbital trajectories-”

“There were.”

Another video resource flashed onto the screen. This time it showed a bulky copper box that must have weighed dozens of kilograms, and a small keyboard. The commentary indicated that this was the Apollo spaceship's guidance computer.

“Single-core, 8-bit. A most splendid computer to be mounted in the lunar lander. It likely had less than one ten-thousandth the processing power of the smartphones you all have in your pockets. And yet it was enough to guide the lander by autopilot, even though human error necessitated its rebooting just prior to landing.”

Ms. Fujimura sounded almost triumphant now. There had been a strange change in her expression, although it was so slight I doubted anyone but me would even have a chance of noticing. Perhaps, for an AI, it was a point of pride to be able to talk about the vital contribution a computer had made to one of humanity's most historic achievements.

No, that's not it...

She was delighting in the shock her student was experiencing, from her first contact with this knowledge. She was revelling in it. The girl retracted her body and sat back down in her seat, fuming.

“That's irresponsible. It's reckless.”

“Indeed it was. It was one of the most reckless ventures in human history, and precious lives were lost along the way.”

“That's all the more reason it could never have happened!”

As though scoffing at our worries from across the ages, the portly figure of the spaceman upon the screen began to moonwalk, gleefully bounding across the moon's surface. He was humming to himself merrily, like some shameless delinquent.

“Rather carefree, isn't he? One would never think only a thin spacesuit separated him from the zero-pressure vacuum and the hellish 110-degree temperatures outside.”

My master smiled faintly, as she expressed her admiration for the men in the video. Even when they raced their moon buggies across the lunar plain, they were rough and careless, as though they were driving go-karts at some amusement park. The girl at the front returned to gazing at the video, a flabbergasted expression on her face.

“Ah...ahaha...!” I couldn't help bursting out in laughter.

Her shoulders trembled a little. I'd picked an awful time.

–

The “Great Pioneers” instalment concluded by saying that although the human race had raised its flag in one great unknown after the other – first the new world beyond the seas, then the distant skies, and finally the void of space – landing a group of carefree delinquents on the surface of the moon had marked the end of their exploits. Not once since had they set their sights on anything farther. The Apollo generation's dream of a grand conquest of the stars remained a dream to this day. Mars, Venus and the outer space beyond the solar system remained unknown to the print of human boot.

I wondered if perhaps the human race had, somewhere along its way, lost sight of something incredibly precious.

I wondered if perhaps someday there might rise once again, on the edge of the farthest frontier, someone worthy of being called a hero. Someone who would lead mankind forth once more towards a new world.

“Hey, there you are, Eri-pie! Wanne grab some food?”

Karin burst into the classroom just as the lecture had ended. She must have guessed where I would be. I had thought she might have returned home after the events of last night, but she must have remained in Akihabara.

“Oh, it's you, Karin. I'll hold off for now. I've still got things I need to do.”

“Ehh? Hasn't your class just wrapped up?”

“Well, yeah, but I'm not talking about class.”

“Oh, the shrimp's tagging along? Good, good. You put some proper breakfast in him, right? What's he been eatin'?”

“Cereal. And some water.”

“Oh, ouch. You know that's child abuse, right? Like, I should probably be calling a social worker about now?”

“Just give it a rest, geez...”

I hadn't been back to my apartment for the past few days, and my reserves had all expired, so I had ended up with very little by way of food. I hadn't so much as forced cereal and water on him as noticed his interest in the food I was hurriedly shovelling down and shared a little.

Servants didn't typically require meals in the usual sense, but in the post-war world where they had become commonplace, more care was being paid to improving their quality of life. There were even some citizens' groups that insisted that they had a right to live the same as humans. In my view, Servants were fundamentally inhuman existences, and I saw those attempts to impose human restrictions on something unbound by the framework of nature as little more than evidence of their Masters' egotism – although I couldn't deny that might just have been the bitter prejudice of a have-not speaking.

“Sssssssup! Morning, Caren!”

“Good morning to you too, Karin.”

Ms. Fujimura approached the two of us.

“Karin...and Caren...?”

The boy looked between the two, confused.

“Yeah, you got it. Pain in the ass, right? The Caren in Akihabara has this kinda grown-up, sexy feel to her. The one back home is a lot more, uh...wha-chaa!”

“What's “wha-chaa!” supposed to mean? And you should be calling her Ms. Fujimura.” Karin had drawn one knee up to strike a kung-fu pose. I gave her a smack.

“Karin lives in the Shibuya district. The me who lives there is a drawer for a Chinese restaurant.” My master smiled gently. I wondered what it felt like, to know there were different versions of herself active all over the city.

A few elderly students were still hanging around in the classroom, chatting amongst themselves. My master ushered us from the room, and we relocated to a terrace protruding from midway up the building. This was a leisure space, and it commanded a wide view of the sprawl of Akihabara. At this early hour, the sea breeze was light, and the sun was not too strong. It was just cool enough that that shaded areas were still a little chilly.

The distant rumble of a train smoothly pulling in from the oversea viaduct drifted to us from across the water, along with the faint toot of its horn. Beyond the horizon, where the railway vanished, lay Shinjuku and Shibuya.

“So this child is the Servant with the unknown Master?”

“That's right.”

I had already informed her about the situation in advance, but I took the opportunity to introduce the boy to her in person.

“To tell the truth, I already have a good guess as to his identity. Although he doesn't really react to what I say most of the time. He doesn't seem to be entirely all there.”

I took the plunge, and told her about last night's discoveries – hoping somewhere deep down this made up for the regret I felt at keeping quiet about Kundry's flight and the events that had followed.

“Antoine de Saint-Exupéry...? A French author, as I recall, and one of great renown. He was also an accomplished pilot, and served in the Second World War. You believe this child's identity to be this Saint-Exupéry?”

The object of our scrutiny, the child in question, showed no reaction to the name. He took a sip of the freshly-squeezed orange juice that Karin had bought from a juice stand, and pulled a face. Sour.

“His appearance is a poor match, even taking into account the age difference.” I could sense my master checking records in the background, and cross-referencing them with the child in front of her. I pressed on with my next hypothesis.

“I think he's the Little Prince. Don't you think he looks just like Saint-Exupéry's illustrations?”

The Little Prince was an allegorical short story. It was the last completed work by Saint-Exupéry, who passed away at a young age. Whether online or in physical bookshops, one would inevitably find it in the children's book category, but it couldn't be more different to the fairy tales it rubbed shoulders with on the shelves. That said, nor was it something like the Bible, whose every line existed to be quoted and venerated. It was a comforting presence, like a familiar friend at your side, always ready with a lighthearted quip or a sobering anecdote. Or so I thought, anyway.

“Eh? So you're a prince, are you? Hmmmm? Now you mention it, he does look kinda regal. Think he'd make a good match with my Momi? She is a princess, you know. Whaddaya think?”

Karin pinched the boy's cheek, grinning wickedly, and he turned his head away in clear discomfort. I decided to leave them to it, and added to my master that last night the boy had answered my riddle with the keyword that only the Little Prince would know.

“I see...” She struck a contemplative pose as I continued.

“I'm aware that he doesn't look very much like Saint-Exupéry. That's why I'm wondering if he could be an author Servant who's taken on the form of a character from one of his own works. I'm sure there are examples of that.”

“There are indeed. Many authors' works leave a far greater impression on the world to come than the men themselves. Many more choose such forms of their own accord. However, if you would permit me my personal opinion - ”

She left a beat, pushing up her glasses.

“ - I would conjecture that Saint-Exupéry would project himself not onto the Little Prince, but onto the Pilot who narrates the story. It was, after all, his own experience of crash-landing in the Sahara desert that formed the basis for the book.”

“Ah...yes, I...I suppose...”

She was right. Given the content of the book, it was an entirely legitimate criticism. She was saying that this child was likely something fundamentally different to just some writer Servant with perverse tendencies and a strong capacity for empathy.

While I hadn't been watching, the subject of out conversation had begun sipping on a honey-lemon drink. He must have traded his orange juice with Karin. This was evidently more to his tastes; he was smiling broadly.

“I have conferred with the Caren units in the other districts, but he does not appear to match any Servant under our jurisdiction. I cannot even venture more than vague hypotheses as to his class.” It seemed that as an AI, she was capable of communicating with her other units in the background even as she talked with me.

So he wasn't a lost Servant who had wandered in from some other district. At the very least, we now knew that there was no record of Saint-Exupéry being registered as a Servant anywhere in Mosaic City.

“Please do not be disheartened, Erice. I do not mean to dismiss your opinion; the possibility remains. And just by having secured him, you have already done a wonderful job.”

“I suppose...”

“He seems to be stable, aside from his memories, so I will fit him with a classification tag. For as long as he continues to reside in this town, I will refer to him as “The Little Prince (TBD)””.

“...'Brackets...TBD'...?”

“Guess so. Would be a pain in the ass if he didn't have a name, right? Brackets, TBD.” Karin cheerily patted the Little Prince (TBD) on the head.

“Um...about last night's incident...” I straightened my back, and tried to change the topic to my report of the previous night's events – and suddenly my master stood up from her seat, looking at me ruefully.

“I owe you an apology, Erice. A matter has sprung up that requires my urgent attention. Would you mind submitting your report as a brief text document?”

“Eh...? I mean...of course.”

I felt relieved, but at the same time more concerned. Whatever this urgent matter was, this was the first I'd heard of it, and my master was not known for changing her schedule lightly.

“But what do you think I should do about him?”

“That was my next point. I am sorry to ask this of you, but would you mind taking charge of him for the time being? If his identity becomes clear during that time, all the better.”

“Eh-?”

My master's eyes narrowed into a smile as my mouth clamped shut. The already-unusual situation had just taken a turn for the stranger.

“No way, no way, no way. Isn't that going to be a problem? With my job and everything?”

“No other individual in Akihabara is so equipped to tackle as exceptional a case. To call you a specialist in the handling of Servants would not be an exaggeration.”

It would. It absolutely would. My specialisation was not the handling of Servants - it was murder. Restraining the most villainous of Servants, and keeping them under strict surveillance, I could do. But I was not nearly so capable of attending to the needs of a young boy, barely any different from an ordinary human child, who didn't even know his own name.

Karin chipped in. “Can't he just bunk at my place? What's an extra brother or two, anyway?”

“Quite a lot, I think...”

Karin's suggestion was extraordinarily irresponsible, but my master only inclined her head. “My thanks for your hospitality Karin, but I am afraid that I cannot yet say what threat this child poses. I cannot permit him to reside with ordinary citizens.”

“I'm tellin' you, it's cool. I've got Momi, don't I? It'll be fine!”

Karin dug in deeper, and my master responded with another polite but firm refusal. In all honesty, it would have been a weight off my mind – although I wouldn't say that the notion of Karin taking responsibility for a portion of my job didn't grate on me a little.

Just as I was becoming aware of my own troublesome misgivings, a newcomer hurriedly approached the recreation space where we were conversing.

“Caren Fujimura? If you wouldn't mind, there's something I'd like to ask you.”

It was her – the girl in the hat from the front row. She had run out of the classroom just before the lecture had ended, conversing with someone over her smartphone. She must have returned now that her conversation had ended.

“It's nice to see you, Haruko. Do you have a question for me about the lecture?”

“That's right. I wanted to ask about the role of astrology during the Age of Discovery-” A sudden squall blew through the terrace, and she clutched at her hat, pulling it down tightly over her ears. I saw my chance and hurriedly forced my way into the conversation – although really, she had been the one who had interrupted us.

“H-hang on a moment. I was already talking with Ms. Fujimura...”

She glared at me in silence. Her brilliant peppermint-green eyes glinted from behind a parting in her fringe. “It was only thanks to the repeated interruptions from you and your Servant that I didn't have the opportunity to ask these questions during the lecture.”

“Well, I'm...I'm sorry about that. But, well, you see, he's not exactly my Servant...”

“Is that so? My apologies. But as his guardian, you should be more conscious of your responsibility to ensure he does not cause trouble for others in public spaces.”

Her motions – her gait, and even the way she was holding down her hat - were clipped and precise. She was barely taller than the innocent child drinking juice by my side, but she somehow seemed many years his elder. Beneath the white gown I had seen so often in lectures, she was wearing a slightly old-fashioned bright yellow blouse.

I'm positive...I've seen those clothes before somewhere... Now where was it?

“Um...you mentioned astrology, didn't you? If you're curious about the involvement of magecraft in human history, why don't you go to the library? You'd be able to research it as much as you wanted.”

I'd intended it as a sincere and respectful recommendation...but instead she expelled a short, sharp sigh, and her attitude became palpably frostier. This was getting awkward.

“You're telling me to go to the library? That would be far less efficient than asking an administrative AI – I mean, Ms. Fujimura directly. I would have thought that someone who went to the trouble of attending lectures would be cognizant of the vast difference in value between the vague knowledge one can acquire through reference materials, and the clear and consistent explanations that can be gained through conversations with an expert in the field. And if you do not understand that, then I must ask why you insist on wasting others' time with your indolence.”

“W-what do you mean, 'indolence'...?”

“Well damn. Kid's got a mouth on her...”

Things were going from bad to worse - now Karin had taken an interest. If I left this alone, it could easily easily escalate beyond my control and into an all-out brawl. She was free to pick whichever fights she wanted, but I wanted to avoid any risk of worsening my relationships with other students and ending up barred from attending.

“Come on, Karin. Cut it out. I'm not mad or anything.”

“...Hm? Wait a second, I'm sure...” Karin looked as though she'd just noticed something. The girl hurriedly pulled her hat back down over her head. My master had called this girl Haruko, hadn't she?

“I too have important matters to attend to. I really do have to hurry.”

“I...I see. Sorry about all this.” She had come all the way to this terrace searching for my master, and I wanted to show some recognition of her dedication. In that sense, we were kindred spirits. “If I'm not mistaken, you don't come to lectures very often, do you? If you wouldn't mind, I could let you borrow my old notes...”

“If you're going to mock me so, I hope you're prepared for the consequences.”

“Eh? Did...did I say something wrong?” How short was this girl's fuse? I desperately looked to Karin for help, but she only shook her head as though to say there was nothing she could do. And then, in that moment -

“I think that's quite enough, Erice.”

Another newcomer – a woman, who had not been in the classroom – strolled towards us, calling out to me with uncomfortable familiarity. Her footsteps clacked on the floor as she approached.

“Welcome. Your arrival is earlier than I had expected.” Ms. Fujimura, who had been maintaining a position of neutrality in our argument, greeted her in an oddly forced tone of voice.

“It was your message that hurried me here, Caren. You said that I might have the opportunity to see something interesting.” She was dressed in a vintage black sailor uniform, and her long silver hair was left to hang freely. I knew this woman – this woman who looked so out-of-place in Akihabara, who clad herself in an elegant shroud of bygone days.

“Chitose... What...what are you doing here...?”

Now it made sense. Caren's urgent matter must have been her.

The girl in the hat must have caught my murmured whisper. “Chitose...? What kind of civilian could call directly on a municipal administration AI without an appointment...?”

I heard the rushing sound of an intake of breath, and she turned sharply back around to the woman once more. Now that they were standing face-to-face, her small frame meant that she had to crane her neck to look her in the eyes.

“You aren't...Manazuru Chitose, are you...? The Stigmata?”

“...I am indeed. It's been a while since I last heard that name.”

The girl let out a whimper. “How could this happen...”

Her reaction was so violent, I thought for a moment that they might have been about to duel it out on the spot. In stark contrast to her brief reverie, now she was tripping over herself to be polite. She scrambled backwards three paces, and lowered her head woodenly. Her ears were glowing bright red, and from the glimpses I could catch through her bangs her cheeks were similarly flushed.

One of her fingers brushed against the side of her hat. With a swish, it folded in on itself and collapsed into a hairband. With her face now exposed, she bowed her head once more.

“I apologise wholeheartedly for my insolence, Stigmata.”

Chitose only shook her head quietly. “You had business with Caren, did you not? I do not mind waiting a while.”

“I-it was nothing! Certainly, nothing of consequence next to your duties.” She was so stiff and anxious now, her haughty demeanour not two minutes ago seemed like a distant memory. It was actually a little adorable - although in general, I found people's tendency to become so ill at ease in Chitose's presence rather hard to deal with.

For her part, Chitose might have been responding amiably, but that should not have been mistaken for warmth or compassion. Her gaze fell upon the boy seated at our table, and for an instant, her eyes were those of a serpent that had found its prey.

“Yes, that's the boy”, she said, as though talking to herself. “I can't even tell which class his Saint Graph is. I suppose the world is full of surprises.”

I confess - my interest was aroused, and I couldn't suppress a sadistic curiosity. What reaction would her gaze stir in him? Would he show awe? Animosity? Would he ignore her completely, as though erasing his own existence?

But instead – he smiled. A beaming smile, like a shining star. A clear window straight to his heart.

Silence reigned for a second, and then Chitose smiled back at him thinly. Next to me, I felt the girl with the hat flinch. And then, her expression relaxing into a slightly mischievous smile, she approached me, and laid a pale white fingertip on my shoulder.

“I charge you with monitoring this child, Erice.”

“Understood”, I muttered. She gave a small shrug at my disgruntled response.

It looked like our conversation was over. Once Chitose had made a clear decision, my master would abide by it. I stood up from my seat, bowed to my master, and accompanied the boy from the terrace as I'd been instructed.

“Who the hell was that?”, Karin asked breezily, once we were in the corridor. “Gave me the creeps.” Just this once, I was grateful for her laid-back demeanour.

“And what's up with you, anyway? Didn't you have something to ask Caren about? You sure you're ok just leaving like this?”

“It doesn't matter. Let's just go.”

I put the building behind me, as though I were running away from something.

#Fate/Requiem #translation #light novel

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mrneighbourlove · 6 years

Text

Red Typhoon: Ch 3. Crusaders Sail Onward

"It's been a while since we got the old crew together, hasn't it, Cap'n?" Rat was loading some cargo onto the Sea Witch with Corsaire. "Been so many a-years. We were all on the sea a long time together, but now, we's got families and responsibilities. It's hard to get the whole gang in one place."

"Well, I for one, am glad."

"Eh?"

"You all have your own lives now. That's what I always wanted for all of you."

"Heh, I know, cap'n. Doesn't mean we don't miss you."

"I miss all of you too, though, I'm just glad all of you have found your place in this world."

"Hard to believe you're a father of three now."

"I can't believe you married a bear."

"HA!" Rat laughed at that comment. "Well, she's quite the woman, as is Missy Orana. I mean, Princess Orana. It's hard to stop calling her that."

Liz ran to the ship, excited the with the news she brought, it meant one more nail to place into their departure. "Captain Corsaire! They’re coming into shore!"

"What are you waiting for then? Go greet them!" Corsaire waved her off. "And for the sea's sake, make sure your Uncle Acrobat doesn't slip in this snow. Metal and ice don't mix!"

"Sure thing! Revy's really excited to see them Uncle Rat. Might want to reign her in."

Down at the shore, Revy was shooting colourful flares to signal to her band of Uncle's coming into land. How she loved every single one of them, and it had been far too long seeing some of them.

"I-I-I really don't like th-this." Pockets' teeth chattered horribly as he clung to the saddle for dear live. "W-Why did we have... have to t-take dragons?!"

"Cause cap'n told us ta hurry." Acrobat told his long time friend. "And if cap'n says to hurry it up, we's hurrying it up."

"We really need ta git on these lizards more often!!!" Mojo was having the time of his life with the wind in his face. "Where do I buys one?"

"You don't buy one, they's choosing you." Juju told his brother while hanging onto his bandanna. "You's has to ask the Lorleidians 'bout it."

"Do the loop de loop again!" Bomba was literally bouncing up and down on his saddle in excitement. "Again!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, you's no fun."

They saw different colour flares being shot from the shore line for the dragons to land safely. Revy was like a firefly in the distance, buzzing around excitedly.

"Hey, dere's Reveka!" Mojo pointed out the flares.

"Woohoo! Revy!!! Hey!!!" Juju waved to his niece.

"She likes me best, I'm the coolest uncle." Bomba declared with a flick of his wrist.

"Pfft, you wish, we's all know that I's the favorite" Acrobat argued. "Who convinced Rat ta get her da puppy?"

"I-I-I did." Pockets tried to hold back a snicker.

"Hey!"

Once they all landed, it quickly dawned on the how big she had grown. She stomped like a giant at them as soon as they got on their feet, and scooped as many of the men she could in a bear hug. "It's so good to see you all in one place again!"

"Ooof! Easy on dis old rigger, Reveka!" Acrobat grunted when she picked him up so easily. "He's not as young as he used ta be."

"Y-You've gotten so b-b-big!" Pockets was still taller than Revy and gave her a gentle pat on the head, ruffling her hair. "Grow so f-fast!"

"Heeey, dis ain't cool, why's the shrimp taller than me now?" Bomba crossed his arms in a fake pout. "Ah well, some ladies prefer der men fun size anyways."

"Bork!" Boof made his presence known and demanded pets from every man. "Woof!"

"Ah, good ta see you, Boof-Boof." Mojo scratched the dog behind his ears. "Revy taking good care of ya?"

"Bork!"

"Aye, she always does, doesn't she?" Juju laughed and then asked. "Revy, how's your wee brother?"

"He's doing really good Uncle Juju. I've been making sure that he's got a lot of meat on his bones. Ooh! Check out this out!" Revy took a step back and drew her sword. Concentrating her magic, she thrust her sword upwards, and a lightning bolt from deep up in the sky struck down, and her blade sparked in a cone of dancing electricity. "I'm an electric warrior!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

There were multiple exclamations as the men made sure to keep Acrobat out of the way.

"Dat's really cool, Rev, but could ya do it when I'm not... in proximity?" The old rigger asked his niece. "I's much like a lightning pole now with these new legs."

Revy noticed his legs sparking. Shit. Metal. Metal very, very bad. She quickly stabbed her sword into the ice next her to dispel the lightning. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. That would have been bad. But pretty cool overall right?"

"Aye, pretty damn cool."

"Bomba, don't curse around the lassie!"

"What?! She's an adult now, I'm pretty sure she's heard damn before, as well as shit---"

"Bomba!"

"Ass---"

"Bomba, shut up!"

"And fuck, but who knows?"

"Well, I consider myself a pretty hardcore mother fucker if I do say so myself. Bring all the bitches in~" Revy snickered, happy to fuel her Uncle Bomba's antics.

"Oh, good water spirit, ya rubbed off on her ta much, Rat's gonna have ye head." Mojo nudged Bomba in the shoulder.

"Rat's gotta catch me first, and I'm quite younger than him." Bomba snickered.

"Ye's still a brat, and ye know it." Juju nudged the other shoulder, causing Bomba to laugh.

"Wh-Where's your mother?" Pockets asked Revy. "W-We wanna make s-s-sure she knows we'll take... take care of you!"

"Aye, she knows, Borghild trusts us with her little cub." Acrobat wrapped one arm around Revy's shoulders. "Though, I believe we's all going to need a little of dat famous Uskarian mead before we---"

"Don't even think about it," Rat's voice interjected, chuckling as he saw all his former crew mates. "That stuff knocked your ass out for three days last time."

"Well, I think I used up two of my three swears for the year anyways. If you want change you should see how Liz and Lex have changed." Revy turned and waved to her dad. "Hey Dad! They all made it!"

"By the water spirit, you weren't joking when you said you got new legs!" Rat bent down to look at the metal working on Acrobat's hips, thighs, knees, and ankles. "Dat Lady Asakonigei made 'em for you?"

"Aye! I take 'em off at night, but beats the crutches any day. I can finally run again!"

"N-Not fast."

"Not fast, but still."

"Cap'n is glad you's all here, I's glad you's all here."

"Seer's our brother, Rat, we'd brave maelstroms and sirens for him."

Liz took her time walking with Rat, but when she saw her other Uncle's she felt a bit of hope. Seeing her dad again felt like it was fated and set in stone with them all gathering here. "Hello everyone. I'm happy to see you arrived safe and sound."

"Sheesh, time passes too quickly nowadays, you's all gone." Bomba sighed deeply with a sulk. "And you're taller than me too."

"Cap'n finishing the ship preparations?"

"He is. Once that's complete, we're hitting the ocean. In the meantime, we should gather the others and say our goodbyes."

Revy followed Liz back to town. Lex was having her 'friends' carry all their luggage to the ship for her. Least they could do after the going away gift she gave them all. "Ok boys, careful with the luggage. Some breakable glass in those bags you know."

"Lassie, dis is a rescue mission, not a... a slumber party." Bomba watched as piece after piece of luggage went on the ship. "I mean, I's understanding of a lady's need for... uh... personal products, but... isn't dat a bit much?"

"It's potions, maps, weapons, and gold for gambling. We might need to do all sorts of negotiating." She bent down to kiss Bomba on the cheek. "It's good to see you Uncle Bomba. All the rest of you too Uncles."

"You lassies need ta practice shooting?" Mojo asked the girls. "Brought my training guns 'case you's out of touch."

"We can set up targets." Juju offered. "Someone steal Cap'n's hat."

"I heard that!" Corsaire said from the ship, looking over the ledge at his old crew. He grinned from ear to ear. "Good to see you all again, mates. Missed you much, that's for sure."

"Never thought we'd be on ta Sea Witch ta hunt other pirates, cap'n." Acrobat had to chuckle at the irony. "So much for thief's honor."

"Well Uncle Acrobat, thieves don't have honour. They steal. And by stealing, they ruin lives. Dad was stolen from us afterall." Liz bitterly said. With a deep breath, she dropped her shoulders.

"Tis an old pirate saying, lassie." Acrobat patted one of her shoulders. "We's gonna get him back."

"D-Don't be sad," Pockets told Liz with a smile. "We's gonna find S-S-Seer, we p-promise."

"I'm not sad. I'm angry." Liz turned at the sound of people gathering. Borghild and little Trygve arrived with Scarlet, and Halvar came with his bag and his family behind him to see him off.

"We'll be awaiting your return, son." Torbjorn told Halvar as he handed the young prince his bow and sack of arrows. "Be careful."

"I'll be fine, Father." Halvar assured his sire. "I'll have the whole crew with me, and besides," He looked over his shoulder to Elizabeth. "I have to support Liz. I love her and want to be with her."

"We understand." Brigritta then wrapped an extra cloak of fur around Halvar's shoulders. "Keep warm and be alert. The seas are just as dangerous as our lands."

"I will, Mother."

Borghild had Trygve on her hip, carrying him to the docks.

"Scarlet? Are you sure about this?" Borghild asked the Iron Knuckle.

"I'm sure. I have to make sure Rat and Revy don't get themselves killed. I'll see they return in one piece." Scarlet had enjoyed how close she had gotten with Borghild over the years, and gave her a close hug.

Revy bent down to Boof and patted his head. "I need you to look after Trygve until I return Boof. You understand boy?"

"I know you will, Scarlet." Borghild returned the hug and then added. "You make sure you come home in one piece too. You're our family, you know. Revy might be full grown, but there's nothing wrong with her having two mama bears."

"Wwwwwwhhhinnne." Boof pawed at Revy, not liking the fact that his human was going away without him. The two had hardly been separated ever since she was little.

"I won't be long boy. I promise." Revy hugged her dog close. He was getting old, and she wouldn't risk his life on such a dangerous journey.

Bakura finished bowing to Vidar, having finished a sparring match to make sure he was in shape for the journey. Walking to the group, he gave a bow to Corsaire's crew. "I assume you are the many uncles my daughters tell me about. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

The crew was a little surprised by the bow. The men certainly were not used to such respect. So, the crew showed their acceptance the only way they knew, with a good, old-fashioned punch to the shoulder.

"Aye, we's his old crew and the self-proclaimed uncles." Mojo slung one arm around Bakura's shoulder. "Been with Cap'n for years now."

"We helped changed the wee ones diapers when they's were babes." Juju slung one arm around Bakura's other shoulder. "And rocked 'em to sleep when Seer needed a break."

"Sang jaunty after jaunty," Acrobat added. "After jaunty."

"L-L-Liked 'Tipsy Toe Tease' the b-b-best." Pockets thought back to those years ago.

"Tipppppsy toe, tipsy toe, tease! What a bar wrench you are for me!" Bomba belted out with a dramatic flare of his arm, then jumped up on a barrel. "You sneak into bed, leave me dead, face all rrrrrreeeeddd!!! Sneak out in the morn, I'm so forlorn, things go to norm! I'm pleasing, wheezing, dreaming, of my tipsy toe tease!"

Revy and Lex gave a giggle, remembering the song well. Liz bit her lip to not snicker at her poor father being slung around by the crew. Bakura simply gave a smile to the bizarre crew. "Well, thank you."

Scarlet hoped things wouldn't be too awkward with her coming along. "Hello gentlemen."

"I can sing 'Whale Farts' too."

"No, no, just... no, Bomba."

"What? That one always made Revy giggle."

"Whaaale fart make tsunamis and fish make great suuushi---"

Rat clamped his hand over Bomba's mouth so Scarlet could greet the crew.

"Ah, so... no breaking noses dis time, right?" Mojo asked in good humor.

"We's glad you's coming with us, we need da extra muscle." Juju told Scarlet.

"I got muscle!" Bomba had removed Rat's hand from his mouth and flexed in front of Scarlet. "See? Not bad for a shortie."

"Well I'm glad to help." Scarlet raised an eyebrow at Bomba, and leaned her head down to him. "Your energy sure hasn't changed little man."

"I'm fun-sized, all over baby." Bomba winked at Scarlet. "Wanna check just in case?"

Rat promptly smacked a hand to his face and sighed deeply while the rest of the crew laughed.

Unknowns to Bomba, he might have just struck gold with that. "Well, I guess we'll have to see you prove it on this journey, won't we."

Before the men could process if that was genuine interest being sent back to Bomba, Scarlet turned to the girls. "Get on board. We're heading out ladies."

"Yes mom!" Revy went over to Borghild and her little brother, giving them one more hug. "I will return. I love you both so much."

"I love me a giant woman." Bomba whistled as Scarlet walked on board.

"Bomba, she could crush ya like an egg." Mojo shook his head.

"What's wrong with ya?" Juju asked.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting her to walk on me."

"BOMBA."

"I wonder if they carry heels in her size---"

"BOMBA!!!"

"Okay, okay, I'll hush now, you's just jealous cause I got me an older woman."

"Will you shut up?! That's Reveka's mom!"

"Yeah, and? I can't think a mom is hot? You know what a MILF is, right?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, if you don't shush right a-now, I'm throwing you into the water!"

"Aye, aye, me's a hushing."

Scarlet gave a light smile as she walked aboard. Liz walked up with Halvar, and Lex joined them right after. Revy dried some tears forming from Boof pulling on her pants. "Mom, can you take him? If he gets pulling, I just might stay."

Boof insistently pulled on Revy's pant leg, trying to keep her from going on the ship without him. When Revy removed his mouth, he wrapped his forepaws around her ankle. The snow dog did not want his human to go without him. Borghild gently took Boof's collar, setting little Trygve down so he could say goodbye to his sister.

"Boof, be a good boy. Reveka will be back soon, you just have to wait." Borghild assured the dog. "Be careful, my sweetie. Remember, a mama bear only charges...?"

"Only charges after using our heads first." Revy gave them all one last hug. "I'll be back. I promise."

With that, Revy ran onto the ship before she had any more second thoughts. "I'm... I'm ready to go dad."

"We'll bring them back soon!" Corsaire called to the families waiting on the docks. "Anchors up, Pockets! Unfurl all sails, Acrobat! Bomba, check cannons!" He started barking orders as the Sea Witch pulled away from the port. "Mojo, Juju, check engines! Rat, keep us on course! Elizabeth, overhaul the ropes for Acrobat! Scarlet, furl the extra sails! Reveka, stock gunpowder! Alexandria!" He paused and then looked at his niece for a moment and then said, "Make sure Pockets has the nipper to bind the anchor."

"Does that include Scarlet, cause she's a bombshell too."

"BOMBA.

"Okay, okay, I'm a git'n."

Lex knew very little about going about a boat, but she made sure to help best she could. "Yes Uncle!"

Liz got right to work. "How fast do you think we'll go with these sails?"

"Fast enough, I hope." Corsaire took the wheel and watched as the glistening sails unfurled. "She's an old girl, but she's never let me down once. I know she'll get us there."

"Well, I hope magic sails turn out to be real!"

Bakura looked around, wondering what the journey ahead would bring them now they had finally departed. "Is there anything I can do Captain?"

"You're a fancy, high-jumping assassin, right?" Corsaire pointed up to the jolly roger, where Acrobat was working the ropes. "Think you're up to help him work the ropes?"

"I believe I can." Bakura took a few steps forward, and climbed his way up to Acrobat, making sure to help. Liz watched, hopeful that the ship would pick up speed. "Gods, give me this..."

As all the sails were unfurled, the magic started to work. The usual white sails turned into a golden color and shimmered. It was then, the speed increased, and kept increasing. This was no time to be slow, so Corsaire braced himself and held onto the wheel tightly.

"Everyone, hold on!!!" The captain told his crew. "We're going to get our brother!!!"

#Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Captain Adda #Seer #Liz and Lex #Revy #Borghild #Boof #Corsaire #Rat #Scarlet #Bakura Saibot #Halvar #So many characters #Adventure arc here we come #Comments are loved #Love to hear thoughts!

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nexttrickanvils · 6 years

Photo

(Please reblog I worked really hard on this)

WOOF! THIS TOOK A LOTTA WORK.

So for Day 8 of @haruokumuraweek2k18

Prompt: AU/Freeday/Bonus

Of course I had to indulge in @captmickey‘s and my Roleswap AU. But I didn’t just do a picture, I’ve also got a fic (which was beta’d by Mickey, thank you so much). Hope ya’ll enjoy and thank you for indulging me in celebrating my fave P5 character. :) Title: Foolish Empress

Characters: Fool!Haru, Lovers!Ryuji, Chariot!Ann, Kamoshida (regular and shadow)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and pretty much Kamoshida in general.

---------

Haru hoped that she was mistaken when she overheard people in the crowds talking about rain.

But no… it looked like her bad luck continued.

She quickly rushed to a nearby store with an awning and pulled out her phone. Shujin shouldn’t be too far off from here so if she ran...

But as Haru opened her navigation app, that same strange black and red icon appeared once again. What was this? The third time it’s appeared? She really didn’t need her phone infected with a virus along with everything else.

“...I wonder if I should show my phone to Isshiki-san...”

Before Haru could attempt to delete the mysterious icon again, she spots someone rushing to the awning.

“Dammit! Stupid weatherman never gets it right!”

Now standing next to her is a young man with dark short messy hair wearing the Shujin uniform (though unlike hers, his jacket isn’t buttoned up.)

“I swear he...”

That was when the young man noticed Haru and he seemed to visibly deflate from his incoming rant. He looks her over and gives her the widest smile she’s ever seen.

“Hey what’s up? I don’t think I’ve seen ya before, first year?”

Haru shakes her head, “Third year, I’m a transfer student. I’m Haru Kurusu by the way.”

His eyes widen at that, “Oh! You’re the transfer everybody’s talking ‘bout? Heh, you’re uh… not what I expected. I was kinda thinkin’ that you were gonna be a Yanki girl or somethin’.”

“Huh? Why would you...”

But before Haru could finish her question, a rather fancy white sports car stops in front of them. The young man’s smile drops as he leans closer and whispers to her.

“Whatever you do, do not get in that car.”

The car window lowers and reveals an athletic looking older man in a tracksuit.

“Good morning! You two are gonna be late if you just stand there, let me give you a ride.”

“S-sure, thank you sir.” said the young man in a tone that Haru could only describe as… resigned

As the boy opens the passenger’s side door, the man gives him a teasing look.

“Come on Sakamoto, I thought you had better manners than that! Let the little lady have the front seat...”

“A-actually I can walk, I don’t mind the rain that much.” Haru responds

Haru swears she sees an annoyed expression on the man’s face but it’s gone in a flash.

“Alright, suit yourself. Looks like you get the front seat after all, Sakamoto. Lucky you!”

“Yeah… lucky me.”

He shoots Haru a sad smile as he enters the car. The window rises up and the older man drives off, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The man didn’t seem too bad… so why did the boy (the man called him Sakamoto) warn her against going with him?

“Those two didn’t try anything did they?”

Haru turns to the new voice and sees a rather intimidating looking girl with short choppy blonde hair. She wore a black top paired with a red jacket decorated with several pins and a pair of red fingerless gloves. The only indication of what school she went to was the Shujin issued plaid skirt and the school’s emblem on her bag.

“W-who?”

“The two guys you were just with? Kamoshida and Sakamoto?”

“Kamoshida… he was the man in the car?”

“Yeah… he’s a perverted son of a bitch who acts like he’s king of a castle and Sakamoto follows him like a good little servant boy. You go to Shujin, you should know this.”

Haru looks at the intimidating girl with confusion, unsure of what to say first. Sakamoto seemed like the farthest thing from a “servant boy” if his warning and tone of voice was any indication.

It was then that the girl noticed Haru’s third year pin.

“Third year? So you’re a transfer student. Well word of advice, New Girl: I already told you why but you need to stay away from Kamoshida.”

With that the intimidating girl starts to walk away and Haru attempts to follow. Suddenly she’s hit with… something… something that leaves her feeling light-headed. Whatever it was, it hit the other girl too.

“Ugh… I do not need a headache today.”

The feeling vanished as quickly as it came and the two girls continued to walk into a small alley. Haru wasn’t sure why but something in the air felt… different. So distracted by her thoughts, she doesn’t notice when the blonde girl suddenly stops and she bumps into her.

“Hey!”

“I’m so sorry I...”

That was when Haru noticed why the other girl had stopped. Instead of the school, they found themselves in front of what looked like a large European castle.

“Did we… go the wrong way?”

“N-no way, I take this route all the time! Besides you don’t just… find a castle in Tokyo.”

They looked at the sign at the entrance.

“It says Shujin Academy...”

The blonde let out a frustrated noise and ran inside.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Haru shouted as she followed her in

If they had hoped for answers inside, they were disappointed. Haru thought she could see flashes of the school but they immediately shifted back to the castle.

“This is way too elaborate for a prank.”

The girl pulled out her cellphone and was greeted with a no service notification.

“Okay this is getting really weird.”

“Maybe we should just go back the way we...”

“HALT INTRUDERS!”

Haru and the blonde girl turned to the voice and saw a pair of fully armored knights with swords and shields.

“YOU ARE TRESPASSING UPON THE CASTLE OF OUR ESTEEMED KING!”

More guards arrived and attempted to surround the girls.

The blonde girl then pushed Haru away and shouted, “RUN! NOW!”

“But...!”

“I’ll catch up! Go!”

Haru backs away little by little before she turns and starts sprinting towards the exit. But her escape attempt is foiled by more guards. Before she could turn away, one of them knocks her out with their shield.

“LET ME GO!”

“TAKE THEM AWAY. THE KING WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM.”

Those are the last things Haru heard before she lost consciousness.

---------

“Hey! Hey wake up! Come on New Girl, wake up!”

Haru slowly opened her eyes and saw the blonde girl knelt next to her with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?”

“My… my head hurts but...”

As she sat up, Haru finally got a look at her surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“Some kind of dungeon I think… I just know that this isn’t a dream.”

Suddenly the girls hear distant screaming. They rush to the cell door and look to see if they can find the source.

“We’re not the only ones in here are we?” Haru asked, panic in her voice

“I… I don’t want to believe it but...”

They glance at each other.

“We should find a way out. I mean maybe there’s a secret passage or something…” said the blonde

Haru nodded, “My name is Haru Kurusu by the way.”

“...Ann Takamaki.”

Haru and Ann tried their best but couldn’t find anything to could help them escape. That was when they heard the sound of steel boots marching. They once again approach the cell door and are greeted by more guards (or maybe they were the same guards, Haru wasn’t entirely sure.)

“BE GLAD THAT YOUR PUNISHMENT HAS BEEN DECIDED UPON. YOUR CHARGE IS “UNLAWFUL ENTRY.” THUS YOU WILL BE SENTENCED TO DEATH.”

“What!?” Both girls shouted

“No one’s allowed to do what they please in my castle.”

A man walks past the guards and Haru recognizes him immediately, his eyes were a glowing yellow and the clothes are different (and a lot more… creepy) but this is definitely the same man she saw this morning. The same one that Sakamoto and Ann tried to warn her about.

“K-Kamoshida!?” asked Ann

Kamoshida(?) smirks as he turns to Ann.

“Well, well if it isn’t Takamaki. Almost didn’t recognize you under that slab of make-up. Finally realized your mistake and came crawling back to me? And you even brought a little friend with you as an apology.”

“Don’t you dare go near us you scumbag! I’m not afraid to fight back again!”

“Now is that any way to speak to your king? You’re in over your head here, Takamaki. Not only have you snuck into my castle but now you’re committing the grave crime of insulting me- the KING! The punishment is Death. OPEN THE CELL!”

As soon as the door opens Ann tries to grab Haru’s wrist and run out. Unfortunately the guards separate them and slam the two into opposite walls.

Kamoshida walked towards Ann as she struggled in the guards' hold.

“Now I consider myself a benevolent king. So I’m willing to give you another chance. Just say you’re sorry for what you did and accept my old offer. I’ll happily spare you and your friend.”

In response, Ann simply spat in Kamoshida’s face. He grimaced as he wiped away the spit. He then retaliates by slapping Ann in the face.

“Very well, MEN! PREPARE THE EXECUTION!”

“No! Stop this immediately! Leave her alone!” Haru shouted

Kamoshida turns and grins at Haru. She feels a shiver down her spine as she’s immediately reminded of the man she encountered in her hometown. The man who ruined her life.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn. Hold her there, I’ll deal with her after this one’s execution.”

The two guards holding her throw Haru against the stone wall again, and tighten their grip.

Haru found herself on the verge of tears. Just like before… there was nothing she could do.

“This is truly an unjust game… your chances of winning are almost none.”

She lifts her head and sees a shining blue butterfly.

“But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you...”

The butterfly and voice fade away but the latter is quickly replaced with someone new.

Are you just going to stand there while she dies by cruel hands?

Haru tries to look around for the source of the voice. It… it almost sounded like her own but more mature… more confident.

Do you truly believe doing nothing will spare you? Because you were punished for fighting back? Does that mean your previous actions were a mistake, my dear fated princess?

More images of that fateful night flash through Haru’s mind. The woman crying for help, the man grabbing Haru’s wrist, his fall as she pulled away… the police taking her to their car…

...No… it wasn’t a mistake… Even with what happened after, Haru would do it all over again if she had the choice.

“No… they weren’t...”

She sees one of the guards holding Ann by her throat; readying its sword to plunge into her heart. Haru’s expression goes from one of fear and confusion to anger and determination.

“Yes! YES! I CAN FEEL YOUR RESOLVE!”

In an instant the world felt like it stopped and Haru could feel nothing but a burning pain in her head. She starts to thrash within the guards’ hold, whimpering and screaming in pain...

“We shall form a vow at once! I am thou, thou art I! Now tell me… who... or rather what shall you betray...?”

She lets out one last blood-curdling scream...

“Your sense of justice… or society’s expectations?”

...Before lifting her head and glaring at Kamoshida.

“That’s enough!”

Kamoshida turns around and sends his own glare on Haru.

“You desire to be killed that much…? Hmph, I was planning on sparing you for a little bit but fine!”

The one guard lets go of Ann and she drops to the floor; hurt and out of breath but still alive. Kamoshida gives a nod and the guard next to Haru hits her with its shield, knocking off the fashion glasses from her face. She continues to glare as the guards surround her.

One prepares to strike her down when a burst of wind knocks it and the others down.

Once it’s gone, Haru feels something on her face. It feels like… a domino mask… she’s not sure why but… it needs to come off.

She grips the mask and pulls it as hard as she can. She feels her skin peeling away with it but it doesn’t stop her from ripping it off with a pained scream.

Blood drips down her face… and for the first time in a long time… Haru feels powerful. She starts to laugh and a sinister smirk appears on her face as she feels fire envelop her like a closing flower.

The fire quickly pulls away and transforms into a new figure at her side. Her other self.

She raises her hand and the figure reveals several weapons hidden in her dress. She blasts away some of the guards. The others who survived are pushed back into the wall.

“I am the Bestower of the Beautiful Betrayal! I am known as Milady!”

It looks like Haru’s luck is finally turning around.

#Persona 5 #Haru Okumura #Haruokumuraweek2k18 #Fanart #Anvil Doodles #Anvil Writings #Roleswap AU

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