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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 day

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Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part 7

Summary: Your friend "date" with Jungkook is interesting but thankfully the events from this morning don't prevent you from having a good time. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.8K (I'm sorry it's short but I wanted to get it out since it's been way too long) Warnings: No real warnings other than slightly jealous and possessive Jungkook (but we all know that's a good warning 🤭) a/n: It's been fucking four months I'm so sorry 😭 It's been so hard for me to update my series recently since my attention span literally sucks right now so one shots have been a lot easier to get out but hopefully some of you guys are still around to read this story 🥲 p.s. the last third of this isn't edited at all so please ignore any nonsense 😅

After Jungkook and I finally agree on an outfit for me to wear we head off to whatever mysterious location he's taking us to.

"You gonna pout all the way there?" he teases, pointing out my crossed arms and legs and the fact that I haven't spoken to him since we left. "I told you I hate surprises" I grumble, the feeling of the unknown making me uncomfortable.

"You've gotta live a little Darling" he teases and goes back to driving. He hands me his phone that's plugged into the aux as a sign for me to put on a playlist and that brings up my mood right away. He chuckles when he sees me put on my favorite song since he knows that music always lifts my spirits.

"You're never gonna get tired of this song are you?" he sighs, this being the twelfth time he's asked. "Nope" I answer, popping the 'p' at the end. "This song came out when you were two years old" he chuckles, trying to clue me in but I don't pay any mind to it. "All the more reason to like it!" I argue back and he shakes his head.

"Perfect Man by Shinhwa is a masterpiece and I will accept no arguments" I say, making my statement on the matter final.

There's a quiet air that's hung between us for a couple moments before when both bust out laughing. "I swear we never fail to have the same conversation every time I play this song" I point out and he smiles.

"That's because I love watching you defend something with your whole being. It's cute" he says and my throat gets dry.

This being the first semi flirty comment he's thrown at me since everything happened. Well, besides commenting on how I look because who wants to be told nothing after putting on a cute outfit, even when he's the one who's chosen it.

His comments have been nothing but respectful so there's no harm in letting him do as he pleases but it's just making this whole friends ordeal a lot harder.

~~~~~~

As we pull up to the place he had kept a secret from me I realize why he had me wear this specific outfit since from the looks of it we've come to some sort of ropes course.

"I've never been to one of these" I say, marveling at the zip lines, ropes, ladders and pulley systems that are strewn about this forested area.

"Do you wanna give it a try? We can always just go to the restaurant they have here but I thought I would still offer it since I told you I had something fun planned for us" he offers, leaving the choice up to me but I nod my head immediately, really wanting to try it out.

"Yeah?" he chuckles when he sees my excitement grow. "Yes! Come on let's go!" I say, grabbing his hand and trying to drag him along.

"Wait a second Bunny" he chuckles, holding me back and I watch him as he opens the trunk and grabs a big hoodie for me to wear. "So we don't mess up that pretty little top you're wearing" he says and the playfulness around the statement making my heart skip a beat.

"I could've brought my own" I say but he shakes his head in protest. "It's easier this way so you don't have to worry about it getting dirty, now arms up" he says and I furrow my brow. "Jungkook I can put it on myself" I laugh but he doesn't find it amusing. "I know, arms up" he orders and I do as he says, laughing at the no doubt comical sight of him struggling with it.

"You know now that I think about it it's a lot easier to take your clothes off than it is to put them on" he casually says, making me wack him in the arm once the hoodie is on properly. "Friends Jungkook. Or I can go back to calling you Mr. Jeon" I say with an arched brow and he chuckles. "Friends" he agrees and closes the trunk.

"So can we go now?" I ask, glancing over at the course before looking back to him for approval. "Yes Bunny go ahead" he says, giving me the go ahead and following after me as I make a bee line for the equipment room.

"Hi!" I say excitedly to the guy at the counter when it's my turn to check us in. "Hey, first time?" he chuckles, me looking around at everything with a childlike wonder in my eyes. "Yeah! I honestly didn't even know a place like this existed around here" I admit, Jungkook again taking me to a place I had never been before.

I guess he really is determined to take all of my firsts.

"Well I hope you'll come around more often then, there's a whole lot more to experience than just these ropes" he says and in my awestruck state I don't notice the suggestive tone behind his wording.

"You find something you like?" he asks, my sight going past him and looking at all the harnesses. "I have a friend that's coming in a second so do you think you could get us two?" I ask while pointing at them.

"Sure, is your friend as pretty as you are?" he asks and before I can even think of a response someone is interrupting our conversation. "I would think so" I hear a deep voice say behind me, his hand placed on my hip in a slight possessive manner making my breath hitch.

The boy's eyes widen a bit, looking at the dynamic between the two of us and doesn't exactly know what to make of it and decides to go find harnesses for the both of us.

"What was that?" I ask, whipping around and glaring up at him. "What? We agree to be friends for a little while and suddenly you're ready to jump ship?" Jungkook says, crossing his arms and watching as the boy not so casually glances over at us.

"He was just being friendly" I scoff, knowing for a fact that he wasn't but playing into this oblivious act I had accidentally fallen into. "Right...friendly" he says in a monotone, not wanting to get into a senseless argument and taking the high road. I don't miss the way his hand balls into a fist for a second before relaxing it once I've decided to drag him over to look at the little souvenirs they have in the shop.

"Alright here's a harness for you, and one for you sir." the employee says, a flirtatious tone in his voice when he addresses me and a more strict and professional voice when he addresses Jungkook.

"Did you want some help putting that on?" the boy asks, clearly just taking it as a chance to get closer to me since Jungkook's slight display of possessiveness of me wasn't a big enough clue that we may...or may not be together. "Oh no that's okay, I'm sure you've got other things to do" I deny, stepping into it on my own and in true y/n fashion I end up tripping over one of the straps.

"Careful Darling" Jungkook says, steadying me on my feet and when I look back over at the boy he's awkwardly frozen with his arms out, having intended to help me but decided against it since he was smart enough to realize that it might not be the smartest idea.

I look between the boy and Jungkook and see how Jungkook hasn't stopped glaring at him no matter how uncomfortable the boy is. "Looks like you've got other customers to help" Jungkook says, nodding towards the people at the counter, clearly looking to check in just as we did.

"Right, well let me know if you need anything" he responds, his focus completely on me as he relays his message. "I will" Jungkook jumps in and the boy nervously glances between the two of us before heading over to the counter and helping the group of four that just came in.

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest as Jungkook tightens the harness on me, making sure I won't need any 'help' with it later. "He was trying way too hard and he clearly couldn't get a clue about us" he says, his glare still prevalent in his direction.

"Jungkook there isn't an 'us' right now okay" I say and he sighs. "Keep on telling yourself that" he mumbles quite enough that I couldn't make it out when another crowd comes in. "What was that?" I ask but he quickly brushes it off and herds me out of the store before it gets even more crowded.

As we wait for the group to now gather in the waiting area outside neither of us have spoken a word to each other, stealing glances every so often since we just can't help it. We're attracted to each other and from my point of view I don't think that's gonna change anytime soon.

"Alright everyone can I get you all gathered over here?" that same guy from inside the shop calls out and we all do as he says with Jungkook cursing under his breath. "Fucking fantastic, he's our leader" he grumbles but I grab him by the arm and drag him so we can catch up with the group.

"Come on I thought you said this was supposed to be fun" I say and he sighs, collecting himself and slowly changing his attitude. "Alright I'm sorry Darling" he says, not dragging his feet or sulking anymore and putting that nonsensical jealously out of his head...at least for right now.

"Alright welcome welcome everyone to BranchBound Adventures! How's everyone doing today?" he asks and we all let out cheers of excitement but what I don't notice is the way that Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile when he realizes again how much I'm loving this already. He takes a mental note to bring me here again soon so he can watch that same childlike excitement bloom again.

"Excellent, looks like we've got a fun group here today! Well my name is Jayson and this is Kimberly and we're gonna be your BranchBound Buddies, sound good?" he says and I can't ignore the way Jungkook snorts at the title they've been given but it's only loud enough for me to hear thankfully.

"Behave!" I scold, not wanting to turn this into some sort of immaturity contest when he knows damn well he's a grown ass adult and he should not be acting like this. He holds his hands up in surrender when he sees my glare but can't help but smirk at the fact that Jayson as we've recently found out his name is watching our exchange.

As the day goes by and we're close to the end of our little ropes course adventure Jayson decides it's now or never and decides to make another move.

"You've done a great job today! Didn't know you would be so good with ropes" he says, not hiding the fact that he's probably imagining using these ropes on me in a completely different context. "Yeah I didn't know I would be either" I chuckle and look over and see Jungkook glaring daggers into Jayson's forehead while he hooks me up to the zip line.

"Did you want to go nice and slow or fast?" he asks, his eyes drinking me in but I don't pay him any mind as I just watch the way that Jungkook is reacting to our exchange. "Y/n?" Jayson asks, breaking me out of the trance I had been lost in, thinking about what Jungkook would do to me after this if we were together.

"Sorry what?" I ask and I can tell that he's pretty much starting to get the memo at this point. "Nothing, just tuck your legs in close to you if you want to go faster" he explains and I nod my head and wait while Jungkook gets hooked up to the other line thats parallel to mine.

"Wanna race?" I challenge him since I know he would never back down from one. "What do I get if I win?" he says with a smirk.

"Whatever you want..." I say nervously and I have a feeling I'm going to regret that. "...but I want ice cream if I win!" I say to wipe away the tension but he brings it right back with his claim if he wins.

"I want a kiss" he says and when he clearly sees the way that I'm gearing up to protest a simple cock of his brow silences that. "You said that I could have anything I want right?" he asks I sigh and nod, my energy to go back on my word dissipating.

It's just one kiss right?

"Deal" I agree and he can't hold back the smile and vote of confidence it gives him. "Get ready to lose" he says and before I have a chance to argue back Kimberly is counting us off and in my semi scattered state Jungkook takes off before me giving him a ten second head-start.

"No fair!" I call after him when I'm finally able to catch up and he let's out a hearty laugh. "You're the one who proposed this whole race Bunny" he says making me look away, 'his timing with that nickname is always impeccable', I think to myself as I hide my blush.

"Hurry up!" I hear him call out as he is suddenly a lot further down the line than I am. "Hey!" I laugh, deciding to put that thought away to not sour my mood and just focus on there here and now.

Once I finally get to the end Jungkook has already gotten unhooked from the zip line and is standing victorious waiting to claim his prize.

"You only won because you're taller than me" I grumble as if I'm actually upset that he won when in fact the thought of him putting in effort just to kiss me make my heart beat faster. "I thought smaller things were supposed to be more aerodynamic" he teases in response but I huff and stand in front of him, clearly waiting for him to claim his reward.

"I didn't say when I was going to kiss you" he teases and walks away and back toward the shop where we had first come from since our time is up. "Hey!" I protest again, not liking the slight embarrassment he caused me.

"Oh come on you'll be okay" he teases as he takes his harness off and then helps me out of mine after. "Whatever" I huff and something behind me catches his eye and before I'm able to turn around he's knocking me off my feet and giving me a rather over exaggerated kiss if you ask me to the point that people are whistling and hyping us up.

I hit on his chest when I'm finally running out of air and he carefully puts me back on my feet and when I catch the sight of Jayson staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face I know now why he did that.

"You're insufferable" I huff and fix my rumbled clothes from his breathless kiss but he doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. "Interesting response after receiving a kiss that made you blush but I'll take it" he shrugs and we both head back into the gift shop for the last time so Jungkook can no doubt flaunt the fact that from Jayson's point of view we're together.

Honestly I could care less and I won't deny that it was hot as fuck watching him get angry with the very minimal interactions Jayson and I had but I won't let him have that satisfaction. "Didn't realize you were so insecure" I taunt and make sure his eyes are on me before I look over to where Jayson is still clearly watching us and give him a flirty wave goodbye with Jungkook hurrying to usher me out.

"I wouldn't be insecure if you were mine already so until then you'll have to be patient with me" he says through gritted teeth, a reaction I was hoping for from that little stunt I pulled. "I can manage" I say and walk off towards the only restaurant here where I'm sure he was planning on taking me and when he follows me and has a hand placed low on my waist to guide me there my suspicions are confirmed.

"Reservation for Jeon" he says to the host at the front desk and while he looks for it Jungkook's demeanor is a little softer, that soft maturity coming back from having us in a controlled and relaxed environment. "Right this way Mr and Mrs. Jeon" the host says and I practically choke on air at that, the title mistakenly given to me sending my heart into overdrive.

"Don't worry she's fine, come on Honey" Jungkook reassures the waiter as Jungkook encourages me along to follow him to our table.

Once we're seated our waiter comes by immediately to bring us water since I had clearly caused enough of a spectacle to garner a hurried solution for my coughing fit. He gives us our menus as well soon after and leaves us be, allowing me some more space to compose myself.

Jungkook can't hide the smile he's had since my reaction had started and has turn slightly smug at seeing the blush it had caused me. "Shut up" I grumble and take another gulp of water having traded his glass for mind since I had practically drank mine in one go after that.

"I didn't say anything" he chuckles leaving me glaring at him. "But your face did" I say after having put my almost empty glass back down on the table. "Oh yeah? And what is it saying now?" he asks, leaning forward as if he was giving me a better look at it.

"It's saying that you're enjoying the fact that I'm still squirming over the thought of being called Mrs. Jeon" I say and he sits back, proud of my intuition. "Impressive Bunny. Better get used to it though" he says cockily and I narrow my eye at him and scoff.

"You're pretty confident for someone I technically haven't agreed to date" I say but his smirk widens before throwing out a playful 'Yet' and our waiter is back at our table before I have a chance to argue back.

After the waiter has taken our order and a little while after is bringing out our food our conversations have gone back to what had been seen as normal for us. A slight flirty edge to his words which I not so subtly glare at in response always making him chuckle but it's getting harder and harder for me to want to do that.

Why should I scold him? It's not like I don't want him too...

As we finish up the day with the ice cream I technically did not earn we start to make our way back to his car where he opens the door for me and make it a point to put on my seatbelt so I can still enjoy the cone I'm almost finished with.

"Thanks Dad" I tease after he's buckled me in like a child and I'm granted a sarcastic smile in return only making me smile harder. He closes the door and gets in on his side and soon we're on our way back to the house...

~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, comfortable but quiet with the only sound being the hum of my playlist coming through the speaker and the gusts of cool air coming through the vents but it's soon broken by the question he's been wanting to ask.

"Did you have fun?" it's a simple question but I know thoughts of what had happened earlier today are coming back to him as we get closer and closer to the house. "I did, a lot actually. You're not too shabby at planning dates" I confirm and he glances over with a smirk.

"I thought this wasn't a date?" he counters and I chuckle. "It wasn't until you kissed me" I say and he shakes his head. "A kiss equals a date, got it" he says quietly, tucking that information into his back pocket and I can't help but smile as I see a soft one still rests on his lips.

~~~~

When we finally pull into the driveway and he turns off the engine I hold onto his arm for a second, asking him to stay in the car for a second so he does and sits back and keeps his eyes on me, waiting for what I have to say.

The thing is is that I don't know what to say, I don't even know why I asked him to stay in here but he just watches me fondly, not rushing anything and waiting patiently for me.

"I don't think we can be friends" I say, looking down at my lap so I can't see the expression he has on his face. "What do you mean by that Bunny?" he asks, that nickname making my heart skip a beat like it does every time and I shake my head, still looking down at my lap. "I mean, I don't wanna be friends" I say hoping he'll understand and when he lifts my chin I expect him to ask me to explain what I mean but instead I'm met with his lips on mine.

They're not full of passion or lust or anything of the sort. Just pure longing and understanding, understanding of the want to go about things at my own pace, an understanding that he's okay with going slow and that's all I need.

"We can go slow" he says after we've broken the kiss, audibly confirming what he had physically displayed and I bite back a smile and nod before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you" I whisper and he pulls away to get a better look at me. "Whatever for?" he asks in such a cute way I can't help but laugh. "For not forcing me or making me feel bad about my indecision" I say and he smiles and cups my face, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone, a sad smile on his face at the thought of what I might've gone through with Jared that would require that sense of relief from his actions.

"I'm sorry about this morning" I say even softer this time and he nods, "I know" and those two words bring me comfort in ways that he couldn't understand even if I told him.

I was scared shitless that I had messed things up, that I had done something that could've damaged us beyond repair but his words and actions from today told me nothing of the sort.

His maturity shows that he knows what he wants and I want to open up and show him that in return...but I just hope I won't regret it.

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akanemnon · 17 hours

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What got you into comics?, what comics do you like? And what is your favorite comic book superhero?

I didn't grow up with superhero comics, so I don't have any attachment to any of them. I specifically grew up with the Asterix comics instead. They're pretty big in Europe and they were a huge part of my childhood alongside the animated movies. My family consistently quotes them to this day.

Though I gotta say, it was mainly webcomics that grabbed my interest once I got my own computer. There were a handful of Kirby comics I remember reading back then on the now defunct fansite called "Kirby's Rainbow Resort". And I keep repeating myself, but "Brawl in the Family" was a huge part of my childhood. I also remember loving "Awkward Zombie", which probably was what inspired me to get really into drawing funky expressions.

As a kid I was always interested in making comics. Back then I even wanted to be a comic artist as a career. I remember trying to make a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon comic when I was... maybe 14? Also there was a comic a "friend" asked me to draw back in middle school while he did the dialog and came up with the story and the characters.

But back then I could never draw the characters in a consitent way and that was the main reason why I never really was motivated to keep going. I was also predominantly doing pencil drawings instead of trying different things, so that didn't help me much either. Every now and again, I would try to dabble in drawing one-off comics, but that was about it.

Twin Runes is actually the farthest I got with keeping up with an ongoing project like this.

#ask #ask akane #art talk #twin runes #behind the scenes #queued post

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 days

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Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: After being yelled at one too many times by their strict Ubers teammate, Oliver Aiku enlists Ikki Niko in helping him get Shoei Barou a girlfriend, hoping beyond hope that that’s enough to get the guy to chill out a bit.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Barou x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 10.8k

Content Warnings: crack fic, barou is also my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader is kind of an npc in this icl 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, everyone is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), everyone gets slandered (mostly by aiku), god bless niko for being chronically online

A/N: there were a decent amt of people who wanted barou’s version plus i felt like writing it so he’s up next!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long just like the sae version and somehow it’s even sillier so…but yeah anyways this is the second entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Barou is yelling at them again. Aiku’s not sure what the big deal is this time — so what if Lorenzo spilled spaghetti sauce on the floor? He’s Italian, that’s part of his culture — but if he dares to speak up, Barou will single him out specifically, and then he’ll be treated like a little kid in timeout, which doesn’t sound like an ideal way to spend a Friday night.

It’s the four of them in the doghouse as usual — himself, Niko, Aryu, and Sendou, that is. The most ridiculous thing is that Lorenzo isn’t even there, though he’s the true target of Barou’s rage; unfortunately for his teammates, though, Lorenzo’s off getting his teeth polished or counting his money while cackling or whatever else it is that he does in his free time.

Honestly, none of them are really taking the theatrics seriously. Aryu’s fiddling with the ends of his hair, Niko’s standing there, staring at Barou with large, watery eyes, and Sendou’s glaring back at Barou with his arms folded over his chest. Aiku sighs, because that means an argument between the two is most likely impending, but unfortunately for him, he sighs a bit too loudly, and Barou whips around, jabbing a finger at him.

“What’s so exasperating, huh?” Barou says. “I bet you won’t be sighing when we have an insect infestation because none of you can be bothered to clean up that damn tomato shit that Lorenzo’s obsessed with!”

“It’s marinara,” Niko pipes up meekly. They all look at him with varying degrees of incredulity; he shrugs, adjusting the headphones around his neck self-consciously. “Lorenzo’s trying to teach me how to make it. Supposedly a typical spaghetti sauce has meat and vegetables added, but a good marinara is the base, so — um, anyways.”

Barou’s upper lip is curled into a sneer, and Aiku’s just about to thank Niko for taking the fall and turning Barou’s rage to him when he remembers that that’s markedly not how Barou operates. He’s too meticulous to forget the former recipient of his ire, not so quickly, and indeed, Barou is pointing at them both when he speaks next.

“That stain better be gone the next time I come in this room,” he says. He doesn’t say what will happen if it’s not, but given his authoritative voice and enormous physique, he usually doesn’t have to resort to making threats in order to be obeyed.

“Thank goodness,” Aryu says once Barou has left to complete his evening meditations. “Seems like Barou appreciated our elegant silence, Sendou. We’ve escaped reproach this time.”

“Yup,” Sendou says. Whistling nonchalantly, he sidles out of the room, and with a fluttering wave, Aryu follows suit. Aiku can’t even blame them, considering it’s what he would’ve done if he were in their place.

Glancing at Niko, who is now his greatest friend due to convenience alone, Aiku shakes his head, wondering what choice he made in life that led to his weekend plans amounting to cleaning sauce stains from a carpet with a little boy instead of partying or something.

“You got the bleach?” he asks. Niko nods miserably.

“Yeah, I got it. You’re good with scrubbing?” he says. Aiku’s shoulders cramp preemptively at the mere thought, but he doesn’t protest aloud.

“No other choice, right?” he says. “Off to work we go, then.”

Your best friend has been begging you for days to try this new restaurant with her, and it’s only now that it’s Friday that you can’t come up with any more excuses to avoid it. The truth is that you don’t really have a reason to refuse her as many times as you have, but the thought of summoning up the wherewithal to get ready and go out for dinner instead of throwing on your pajamas and eating something on the couch with a movie in the background is excruciating. Besides, you know her tastes. She always takes you to insanely fancy locations where anything less than your best will be embarrassing, and the only saving grace is that your outings always end up being insanely cheap, as she refuses to spend more than the bare minimum no matter what.

“You’re serious?” she affirms, standing in front of your closet and sifting through your clothes. You’re sitting on your bed, legs crossed and your laptop on your lap as you try to finish up the essay you have due Monday before getting ready. “You’ll really go with me?”

“I just told you I would, didn’t I?” you say. “I wouldn’t let you go through my closet if I wasn’t being serious. Actually, I wouldn’t have let you into my house at all.”

“Your parents would’ve opened the door for me,” she says dismissively. “They love me.”

It’s true, they do love her as much if not more than they love you, so you have no rebuttal. She grins at you, tossing a shirt in your general direction. It hits the back of your laptop, landing in a heap on the floor, and you’re too busy to pick it up, so you just leave it there, too lost in thought to care. Just the conclusion, if I can finish that then I can do something fun without anything on my mind—

“Hurry up and get ready! We want to get a table, don’t we?” she says. It’s a pair of pants she flings your way this time, and her aim is far more superior, for they smack into your face, temporarily blinding you.

“If you don’t let me finish this essay, I won’t go with you,” you say, and she knows you mean it literally, so she immediately pretends to zip her lips, saluting at you.

“Finish away!”

“Barou’s totally got a stick up his ass, don’t you think?” Aiku says after thirty minutes have passed and the stain is no smaller than before.

“I don’t think I’d phrase it like that,” Niko says, pouring another cup of bleach on the carpet. Neither of them really know much about cleaning, so this is the best they’ve got, even though Aiku’s pretty sure Barou would pass out if he saw their method. “But yeah, he can be kind of uptight at times.”

“He’s pretty nice otherwise, though,” Aiku says thoughtfully. “It’s kind of a shame. I bet if he loosened up a bit, he’d be a downright enjoyable teammate. Besides the cleaning and all, he’s a cool guy.”

“I do like training with him,” Niko says. “When he’s not yelling at us, it’s fun. Following his regimen has made me a lot stronger.”

“Agreed,” Aiku says. That’s the one thing he’ll give Barou — the guy is a master with the training equipment. He’s introduced Aiku to machines he didn’t even know existed. “You know what he needs?”

“What?” Niko says. He’s scrubbing at the floor while Aiku’s sipping on a soda; theoretically, they’re supposed to be switching off, but Niko hasn’t complained yet, so Aiku’s not about to remind him that it’s well beyond time for his turn.

“Some pu—” Aiku cuts himself off when he remembers that he is talking to a child. Niko’s like twelve or something, so maybe phrasing it in that way isn’t the most appropriate thing to do. “—I mean, a beautiful and loving girlfriend.”

Niko tilts his chin up at him, which means he’s probably looking at him; it’s hard to tell with his overgrown bangs falling in his face. Aiku makes a mental note to suggest cutting Niko’s hair during the next team bonding night that Snuffy forces them into.

“I guess having someone like that would make anyone happier, even Barou,” he says.

“That’s what I’m getting at! I bet he’s just constantly stressed out, so he takes it out on us instead of finding a healthy outlet. Maybe dating someone will fix that and give him something to do besides soccer,” Aiku says.

“Is that your secret to always being so calm?” Niko says. Aiku nods.

“The more girls you have, the less you can worry about things like training. You’re too focused on making sure they’re all happy,” Aiku says.

“Woah,” Niko says. “That’s a really great way of looking at things.”

“Right?” Aiku says. “With Barou, though, we might be lucky if we can find even one girl willing to put up with him. He’s a bit of a work in progress, you know?”

“Totally,” Niko says. “What if he yells at her the way he yells at us?”

Aiku has a vision of some poor, innocent girl on the verge of tears as Barou rants about how she didn’t fold her laundry the right way or something. For some reason, she looks kind of like Niko — oh, that’s probably because Barou just yelled at Niko for that exact reason — but the image is enough for him to balk.

“She can come to us for comfort,” Aiku says decisively before once again remembering that Niko probably only popped out of the womb a scant few months prior. He needs to be more careful — this isn’t Sendou, who would’ve made at least ten innuendos even worse than his own by this point. “I mean, me.”

“That’s a good plan,” Niko says. “You’re really good with the whole advising and comforting thing. I bet you’d make her feel better for sure.”

Yeah, I’d make her feel better alright. This time Aiku manages to keep it to himself, only coughing slightly and nodding towards the bottle of bleach as an explanation.

“The only question is where in Blue Lock are we going to find a girl, let alone one willing to date Barou?” Aiku says.

“Well, Bastard München is playing PXG this weekend, and Manshine City is playing Barcha, so we’re technically off,” Niko says. “I think if we ask Snuffy, we can probably have a day out.”

“What if Ego gets mad?” Aiku says, although the idea is sound enough that he’s just jealous he didn’t come up with it himself. Niko hums, giving careful consideration to the notion.

“We can just blame it on Snuffy. What’s Ego going to do, fire him?” he says.

A grin breaks out on Aiku’s face.

“Niko, kiddo—”

“I’m fifteen.”

“—you’re totally a genius. Let’s go!”

“What about the stain?” Niko says. Aiku glances at the still marinara-colored splotch on the carpet, and then he waves it off dismissively.

“If we can find Snuffy before Barou gets back, then it’s no longer our problem,” he says.

Niko looks unconvinced, but he’s sensible as well as genius-material, so he only follows after Aiku — albeit not without a final worried glance at the section of carpet which still smells suspiciously of tomatoes.

“So what cuisine does this place have, anyways?” you say. You’ve finally finished and submitted your essay, and now you’re taking a shower. Your best friend has closed the lid of the toilet and is sitting on it while playing on her phone, apparently because she wants to be able to talk to you even while you’re showering, and since you have a curtain you don’t mind.

“No idea,” she says.

“No idea?” you say, squeezing shampoo into your palm. “Why do you want to go, then?”

“My dad’s Facebook friends have been raving about it,” she says. “His ex-boss said that it’s the best value-for-money in the entire city!”

“We’re going to dinner based on recommendations from your dad’s Facebook friends,” you repeat dryly. “Wow.”

“Look, he may have chronically underpaid my dad, but the ex-boss has great taste in food!” your best friend defends. “Apparently they fill up super fast, though, so we have to get there right when they open for dinner, or else we’re out of luck.”

“Is this you subtly trying to pressure me to shower faster?” you say.

“It’s not subtle,” she says. You scoff.

“I hope you know I’ll take even longer now,” you say.

“You better not!”

Snuffy is obviously confused when the two of them approach him — Aiku’s not sure if it’s the question that has their coach confounded, though, or if it’s the admittedly odd combination that’s approached him.

“You guys want a night out of the facility?” Snuffy checks.

“Yes,” Aiku says.

“And…you want Barou to come?” Snuffy says. That could be another reason for the incredulity — ‘Barou’ and ‘fun’ are two words rarely if ever seen in the same sentence, unless your name is Yoichi Isagi, in which case just being on the same field as Barou is your idea of ‘fun.’ For normal people — i.e. those with names such as Oliver Aiku and Ikki Niko — those concepts don’t generally align, however, so Aiku can’t blame Snuffy for the weird face he’s making.

“Yes,” Niko says.

Snuffy stares at them for a moment longer, and then, to make things even stranger, he chuckles in a way that’s almost fond.

“It’ll be good for him to get out of here for a bit,” he says. “You two are great teammates for thinking of him; I’m sure he’ll appreciate it one day, if not necessarily tonight. Go on, then, and have fun if you’d like.”

Aiku waits for the other shoe to drop, but Snuffy just returns to making a cup of coffee. It’s a little odd, given the later hour, but still, Aiku’s not one to count his blessings, so he motions for Niko to follow him, and with Snuffy’s official permission, the two of them march towards where Barou is probably doing his daily “fuck Yoichi Isagi” affirmations. They have that kind of weird relationship, after all. It’s unnecessarily complicated, but Aiku has observed during his time in Blue Lock that almost every single relationship between the members of the program follows such a mold. He’s given up on trying to figure any of it out, knowing it’s well beyond him.

“Are you ready?” Aiku says when they reached the closed door to the training room. Niko rolls his shoulders.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Niko says. Aiku decides he likes him, and that he should try to spend more time with the pipsqueak. Maybe he can be a mentor figure or a true role model for the younger player. He’d definitely do better at the job than, say, Aryu. Or Lorenzo, which is a more relevant concern, since apparently the two are cooking buddies, as per Niko’s marinara interlude during Barou’s earlier tantrum.

With a grim nod at Niko, Aiku swings open the door. Schooling his expression into a cheery grin, he calls out in a sing-song that really doesn’t spell anything but trouble:

“Oh, Barou!”

You’ve made your best friend drive, since she’s the one who’s insisted on taking you out, which leaves you to play music and accomplish other such passenger-esque duties. You take full advantage of your freedom to be distracted, shuffling through playlists whenever you’re bored and scrolling through your best friend’s crush-of-the-week’s social media.

“He’s kind of ugly,” you say. She clicks her tongue.

“In a cute way, though, right?” she says. When you’re silent, she gasps. “Right?”

“Uh…” you trail off, zooming in on one of the photos. Something about him is reminiscent of a gerbil, and you can tell he’s short even before you swipe and see him in a photo with one of his friends, barely coming up to his shoulder. “There’s someone out there for everyone, I suppose.”

“That means you think he’s repulsive!” she accuses you.

“Repulsive’s a strong word,” you say.

“Hideous?” she says.

“I can get behind that,” you say. “He reminds me of Tinkerbell.”

“Like the fairy, or our third grade teacher’s gerbil?” she says.

“The latter,” you say. “I’m glad you remembered her. That wouldn’t have been as funny if you didn’t.”

“I didn’t find it funny regardless,” she says, pulling into the parking lot and slowing the car to a crawl as she hunts for a space to pull in.

“Hm,” you say. “I did.”

“You know what? You’re not allowed to slander him until you find someone better for yourself. Girls in glass houses should not be throwing stones, and considering some of your exes, you’re in no position to talk,” she says.

“Low blow,” you say.

“No response? That’s what I thought,” she says. You scowl.

“Just park the car, you dumbass.

“What the hell is going on?” Barou says, for probably the third or fourth time. Unfortunately, their attempt at kidnapping him didn’t go as planned, for neither Aiku nor Niko could lift Barou for any length of time, so now they were stuck with a supremely irritated striker following after them as they marched towards where the Blue Lock official parking was.

Snuffy had given them the keys to his car, so at least they had a ride — if he weren’t such a good coach, Aiku would seriously question the man’s judgment. Niko ushers Barou into the backseat, claiming he already “called shotgun,” and then he dives into the passenger seat beside Aiku, fastening his seatbelt with a serious expression on his delicate face.

“We wanted to have a fun night out!” Aiku says, turning the child lock on so Barou can’t escape before reversing out of the garage.

“Huh?” Barou says. “There’s so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to begin. Also, why are we in Snuffy’s car?”

“He gave us the keys,” Niko says, like it’s obvious. In all fairness, it kind of is.

“He gave you two the keys,” Barou says. Aiku’s a responsible driver, so he doesn’t glance back at Barou, but he’s pretty sure that if he did, he’d be met with the kind of fearsome glare that made medieval-era peasants believe in the existence of creatures like trolls and dragons.

“Yes, he did,” Aiku says. “Told us to enjoy ourselves while we were at it.”

Barou sighs. “Say I believe that—”

“We’re telling the truth!” Aiku says.

“—uh-huh, sure. Anyways, where are we even going?” he says.

“Oh, I can answer that!” Niko says. “It’s this restaurant that my dad’s obsessed with. He’s been posting all over his Facebook about it. According to him, it’s the best value-for-money in the entire city.”

“At least you two are being frugal,” Barou says with a small ‘hmph.’ “How far is it?”

“Not too far,” Niko says.

“Just sit back and relax, man! It’s a couple of friends going out for a meal. Totally normal!” Aiku says.

“Friends don’t kidnap one another to hang out,” Barou says.

“We didn’t kidnap you. Are you saying we’re friends, then?” Aiku says.

“I’m saying we’re not. You turned the child lock on, so that basically constitutes an abduction,” Barou says.

“I did that for Niko!” Aiku says, mentally patting himself on the back for the quick thinking.

“What? I’m fifteen, not five!”

By the time your best friend finds somewhere to park, it’s already dark, and the spot is at the very edge of the lot, so then the two of you have to walk for another five minutes. She’s antsy by this point, but she does an admirable job of hiding it, only picking at her nails behind her back where she thinks you won’t see.

“It’ll be alright,” you say as you reach the door to the restaurant. “I’m sure they’ll have space for two people, at least. Nowhere can be that busy, right?”

“I hope so,” she says, chewing on her lower lip.

You’re proven wrong almost as soon as you both walk into the establishment. Every single table has people sitting at it, and there’s a small crowd of people in the waiting area. Still, you and your best friend push past to where the hostess is standing.

“Excuse me,” you say. “How long is the wait?”

“At least an hour,” the hostess says, her face wan.

“An hour?” your best friend says. “There’s nothing you can do?”

Of course, both of you know there isn’t, but it’s still disappointing when the hostess shakes her head regretfully.

“Would you like me to put your names down?” she says.

“Give us a minute,” you say. She nods, and you and your best friend walk a ways away. As soon as you’re out of the hostess’s earshot, you frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would genuinely be this busy.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting it either,” she says, exhaling heavily. “I would’ve been way more serious about being on time if I had.”

“What should we do now? I don’t mind waiting,” you say.

“It’s okay. I’m a little hungry, so we can go somewhere else and come back here another day,” she says.

“Are you sure?” you say.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s go,” she says.

You’re heading towards the door when a robust voice stops you. At first, neither of you are sure if the speaker is referring to you, but when it becomes obvious he is, you turn around in confusion.

“Where are you guys going?” he says. It’s a man with dark hair and eyes like mismatched marbles, and he’s sitting at a table with two others. There’s a couple of empty seats, and he motions towards them. “We’ve been waiting for you two for forever!”

“Oh, you’re in their party?” the hostess says. You glance at your best friend, who mouths why not? at you, and then you smile at the hostess.

“Yes, we are,” you say.

“You should’ve said so from the start,” she says, shaking her head. “Right this way, please.”

You and your best friend follow after her, both of you more than a little lost at the turn of events, but who are you to turn down the offer? Sure, you don’t know any of the three, but at least this way you two didn’t drive out for no reason, and the restaurant’s crowded enough that if they have nefarious intentions, you should be able to get help relatively quickly.

As you sit down and the hostess offers you menus, you can’t help but glance at the three boys, wondering what exactly it is they want from you. Is this some elaborate scam? An effort to get you to pay for their dinner? You can’t tell. They’re unreadable, and all you can do is hope that the meal still goes as well as you had originally planned — otherwise, you’ll be really mad that you’re not at home instead.

When Niko had first suggested calling ahead to make reservations, Aiku had privately considered him to be a nerd, and one of the idiotic variety, no less. A lethal combo. But outwardly he had nodded along and told him to go right ahead, mostly because it seemed like the kind of thing Barou would appreciate. Now, though, he’s glad that Niko had that kind of foresight, because the place is completely packed.

“Where’s the rest of your party?” the hostess says when they walk in and give her Barou’s name. Aiku doesn’t really know why Niko made reservations under Barou’s name, nor what the hostess means by the ‘rest of their party’, but she’s pretty, so he gives her a charming smile. She’s working now, so he can’t exactly push Barou towards her, but if he’s talking about himself…

She blushes and ducks her head, although the moment is ruined by Niko speaking up.

“What do you mean, the rest of our party?” he says.

“You made a reservation for five, didn’t you?” she says, leading them to the table. Aiku exchanges looks with Barou, mostly because the two of them tower over the others, so it’s convenient, but Barou seems as confused as Aiku is. Both of them clearly heard Niko making the reservation for only three people, so how in the world had the hostess written down five?

“Uh,” Niko says, and then for some reason he’s turning towards Aiku for help? Aiku’s kind of distracted, though, both with celebrating the moment he just had with Barou and with discerning the color of lipstick the hostess is wearing (red or pink?), so when she directs her question to him, he admittedly panics a bit.

“Will the rest of them be arriving later?” she says.

“Yes,” Aiku says. Coral! That’s the shade he was looking for.

“No worries,” the hostess says. “Although you might want to tell them to hurry up, just in case.”

“Wait, what—?” Aiku begins, but she’s already dropping menus in front of them and racing off to take care of the next group of customers.

“You fucking donkey,” Barou said. “Who else is coming to this?”

“Nobody that I know of,” Niko says. “I only made a reservation for three. She must’ve gotten confused and written down five or something like that, but why’d you go along with it, Aiku?”

“Um,” Aiku says.

“What unparalleled eloquence,” Barou says.

Aiku’s mind is racing. Firstly, he’s accidentally confused this poor hostess into expecting two more people, and secondly, how are he and Niko supposed to set Barou up with a girl in this kind of situation? The food may be great, but the ambiance isn’t exactly what they’re looking for.

Somehow, these two lines of thought get muddled into one solution, the catalyst of which is when he sees two girls heading towards the door, obviously disheartened by the long wait time for those idiots who didn’t make reservations.

Wait. If those two are girls, and two plus three is five, then Barou might just end this night no longer single!

Another quick recovery by Oliver Aiku. He’s getting better and better by the minute.

“Hi,” the man who called you over says. “I’m Oliver Aiku.”

“Hi,” you say. The five-person table is a circle, and Aiku’s across from you; since it’s your fault that you’re sitting with these random guys instead of by yourselves, you squeeze between your best friend and the more intimidating-looking one, leaving her to be on the right side of the youngest boy in the group. “Y/N L/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says.

“Likewise,” you say.

“I’m Niko,” the younger boy says. He has dark hair falling into a heart-shaped face, and you can’t fully see his eyes, but you think they might be some shade of bluish green. Idly, you wonder how his vision isn’t horrible given how overgrown his bangs are, but he doesn’t seem to be having any problems, so you suppose he must have some kind of method around it. “And that’s Barou.”

“I can introduce myself,” the one at your side snaps. He’s by far the most handsome of the trio, although you’re sure your best friend would disagree — she has bad taste, though, so that’s irrelevant — with a regal face and sharp eyes. His dark hair is spiky and his eyes are a vivid crimson, narrowed with irritation while his mouth tugs into a perfect frown. “My name is Barou.”

“It’s a pleasure, Barou,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Same here.”

More than being a pleasure, it’s a little tense, so you return to reading your menu, not knowing what else to say, hoping someone else says something soon and rescues you from the ensuing silence.

This is bad. Almost as bad as Japan’s performance in the last U-20 World Cup, which occurred right before Aiku moved up and joined the team. Almost as bad as that stain Lorenzo’s marinara left on the carpet. It’s that level of catastrophic, because clearly, Barou will take a lot more encouragement than originally anticipated. Kicking Niko under the table, Aiku nods meaningfully at Barou, who is also reading his menu, sitting next to the girl who’s doing the same.

It’s the perfect opportunity for small talk. Occasionally, the girl will peek at him over the top of his menu, so she’s clearly not affronted by him — either that, or she’s deathly afraid that Barou will kill her and is making sure he doesn’t do that when she’s distracted. If the latter is the case, well, it’s not entirely unfounded.

Solving the conundrum which has presented itself is even more difficult than their game against PXG was. How is Aiku supposed to flirt with someone for Barou? She’ll just end up liking him, which is rather counterintuitive, given that the end goal is to get Barou a girlfriend.

If only Barou weren’t so stubborn! Aiku’s put him in the perfect spot, but instead of just reaching out his hand and snatching the opportunity up with both metaphorical hands, he’s sitting there, utterly absorbed by the intricacies of the restaurant’s entrees, which Aiku surmises are no doubt fascinating to people with such sensibilities.

It’s the girl, Y/N, who breaks the silence again. Clearing her throat and setting the menu aside, her eyes dart around the table before settling on Aiku. A natural consequence, given his dashing looks and genial personality, but not the one they’re hoping for at the moment, not in the slightest.

“We don’t know you, right?” she says.

“I don’t think so,” Aiku says. Has he gone out with her before? He’s pretty sure he’d have remembered if he had, but you can never be careful these days.

“Then why’d you invite us to sit with you?” she says.

Aiku’s in desperate need of an assist, and there’s only one person who’ll reliably send him one. Besides, the kid owes him a favor, so he doesn’t even feel guilty when he makes a face at Niko, as if indicating that he should be the one to answer the query.

“It was Barou’s idea!” Niko says.

“Excuse me?” Barou says.

“What?” Aiku says.

“Yeah, it was. He felt bad that you guys were going to leave without eating, and we accidentally booked a table for five instead of three, like we originally planned, so he told Aiku to stop you guys before you were gone,” Niko explains.

“Oh, that was very sweet of you!” Y/N says. “Thank you so much. We both really appreciate it.”

Under the table, Aiku gives Niko a thumbs-up. Niko returns the gesture in kind, though neither of them let their true emotions show on their faces, which must be carefully schooled into blankness so that nobody else catches on to their scheming.

“You’re welcome,” Barou says before freezing as he realizes that he’s somehow fallen for Niko’s lie, despite being there to witness the truth of the events. “Wait, no, it wasn’t—”

“Barou’s super considerate,” Niko continues, cutting Barou’s correction off. Aiku could just about cry. Niko’s a natural-born talent! He could never have predicted the younger boy’s sheer skill at this kind of thing. “Do you watch soccer?”

“Not really,” Y/N says thoughtfully. “I’ve never understood it well enough to become an avid fan, and my father prefers baseball, so it’s not something my family is into. I think it’s really cool, though!”

“Barou plays,” Niko says.

“So do you guys,” Barou says.

“Yeah, but you’re sitting next to her,” Niko says. “And you’re the king, right? Who better than you to explain the sport?”

“She didn’t ask for that,” Barou says, glowering at Niko and Aiku alike. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N says, even going so far as to smile at Barou. With a final suspicious glare at the two of them, Barou begins to explain the rules of the game to her, and Aiku takes advantage of his distraction to high-five Niko.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers. “Where’d you learn this shit?”

“I watch a lot of anime,” Niko whispers back. “This is a classic set up for a twelve-episode romance that teaches the viewers about friendship, love, and what it means to grow up.”

“That’s not what I was expecting,” Aiku says after digesting this latest revelation, finding that it makes a surprising amount of sense. “But hey, whatever works!”

“Exactly,” Niko says. “Do you think it’s weird if I order chicken fingers from the children’s menu?”

“Order whatever you want, kid,” Aiku says. “You deserve it. I’ll even pay.”

“Yay!” Niko says. “Chicken fingers it is.”

Aiku doesn’t even mind treating him. If this is successful, then he’ll buy Niko all of the chicken fingers in the world in thanks.

You’re more than a little grateful that Niko has given you something to talk to Barou about. Your best friend is busy texting her crush, the gerbil-looking one, who has apparently responded to her story, so you would’ve had to sit there in silence until she finished up or someone took pity on your helpless self. In this way, though, it’s much more natural, and even if it really was just an example of Niko feeling bad for you, it didn’t come across as such.

“You really scored a goal against the Japanese U-20 team?” you say after Barou has finished a long-winded explanation on the rules of soccer and some of the highlights of his career in the sport. In truth, you mostly tuned out the more technical details, but you have to admit that some of the things he’s mentioned about himself are rather interesting.

“Yes,” he says.

“Wow,” you say. “You must be good, then.”

He shrugs in acknowledgement. “I’m good.”

It doesn’t feel like he’s bragging or anything like that. He’s just acknowledging an inevitable truth. He’s good. The way he says it, no one can deny it — not that you would’ve. Based on his build alone, you’d have expected him to have talent as an athlete; the things he’s mentioned have only been confirmation of that initial prediction, rather than blowing your mind in any significant way.

“Hi!” Your waitress’s arrival with a tray full of drinks cuts your conversation with Barou short, which you’re surprised to find you’re a little put-out by, at least until the grumble of your stomach reminds you of why you came to the restaurant in the first place. “Are you all ready to order?”

“I want the chicken fingers,” Niko says.

“The chicken fingers from the twelve and under menu? How old are you?” she says.

“Twelve,” Niko says. You frown, leaning closer to Barou in order to murmur in his ear.

“Is he actually?”

Barou shakes his head ever so slightly. “No, but if that’s the only way he can get chicken fingers…”

“That’s a fair point,” you say. The waitress seems to share your doubts, but then Aiku flashes her a warm grin.

“My little brother’s heard so much about your entrees, and he can’t wait to try the, er, chicken fingers. Yes. The chicken fingers. He’s been talking about them all week,” he explains.

“Are they—?” you begin.

“They met like a month ago,” Barou says, rolling his eyes. “No relation whatsoever.”

“I see,” you say. You almost have to admire the lengths they’re willing to go to, as well as how natural they are with it. “Huh. I guess if it works, it works.”

“One order of chicken fingers, then!” the waitress says, jotting it down on her notepad, returning Aiku’s grin with her own. He has that kind of enviable charisma that lets him get away with a lot more than he should, and you’re more than a little jealous. “And the rest of you?”

You all give her your orders, and she promises she’ll be back quickly before running back to the kitchen. Once again, you’re left to your own devices, and given that your best friend is still texting that guy, you decide you’ll try and talk to the others at your table.

“Barou told me you guys are all in some program called Blue Lock together,” you say. “What’s that like? It sounded super intense.”

“It is,” Aiku scoffs. “I don’t even know if we’re supposed to be here at the moment.”

“We got permission from our coach,” Niko says. “But the guy who runs the program is kind of…what’s the word?”

“Freaky?” Aiku says.

“That works,” Niko says.

“I didn’t realize we were dining with rebels,” you say.

“For the record, I was dragged into coming by those two,” Barou says.

“We didn’t actually drag him,” Aiku reassures you. “I mean, we tried, but he’s super heavy.”

“Too much training,” Niko says. “Barou, you should flex for Y/N — I mean, for everyone.”

“Hell no,” Barou says. “In public? Don’t be shameless.”

“So you’ll do it in private, then?” Aiku says.

“That’s — that’s not what I meant!” Barou sputters. “I won’t do it at all!”

“Y/N, if you get a subscription to Blue Lock TV, then forget about asking Barou to flex. You can just watch him work out. He does it shirtless,” Aiku says. You choke on your water.

“What are you, some kind of salesman?” you say, coughing to dislodge the droplets of liquid scratching at your throat. “Was inviting us to sit with you a kindness or an advertisement?”

“Can’t it be both?” Aiku says.

“No, it cannot, you fucking donkey!” Barou says. “Please ignore him. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You do train without a shirt on, though,” Niko says. “Quite often. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a lot of shirtless content on Blue Lock TV…Chris Prince stripped at one point, I’m pretty sure, and more than one of the Bastard München boys have had locker room features. I guess PXG is the only team without any fan service, since Barcha has Lavinho as a coach, and we all know how he is.”

“Good for them. You gotta give credit where it’s due,” Aiku says.

“Agreed,” Niko says. “Hey, Barou, didn’t you take your shirt off after scoring in the game against the U-20s, too? Is it like an established habit or something?”

“Enough about my shirt,” Barou says through gritted teeth.

“Or lack thereof,” Aiku adds. There’s a baleful aura emanating off of Barou, and he doesn’t even need to say anything before Aiku winces like he’s been cowed. “Sorry. The opportunity presented itself.”

“Both of you are on thin ice. First you abducted me, and now you’re going on about this dumbass subject? And that’s not to mention the sauce stain from earlier. I bet neither of you cleaned it up,” Barou says.

Aiku and Niko both look like they have been caught committing some crime. Barou’s about to snap, it’s very obvious, but you find his friends’ antics to be so amusing that you hesitantly pat him on the shoulder.

“Ah, I think they’re just teasing you. It’s common amongst people who are close to one another! I always make fun of my best friend for her taste in men,” you say.

“And I make fun of yours right back,” your best friend says, not even looking up from her phone. You roll your eyes at this.

“See? It’s really alright,” you say. “At the least, if you’re upset because we’re here, then don’t be. Neither of us mind. I mean, she’s not even paying attention to us. Too busy texting that Meriones unguiculatus of a man she deems crush-worthy.”

“Fuck you,” your best friend says. She ordinarily would have no idea what Meriones unguiculatus means, but given the context, you’re sure she’s figured it out.

“Don’t be mad because I’m right,” you say. “Anyways, like I was saying, it’s all good.”

There’s a strained moment where none of you know what Barou will do, but then he nods, crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll let it slide, just this once. But the two of you better behave from now on, you got it?”

Aiku and Niko both seem to be so amazed that it’s a wonder they don’t salute at Barou’s barked-out order. Shaking your head and laughing, you decide it might be for the best if you try to talk to Barou yourself and leave his slightly problematic companions out of the conversation.

“So,” you say, to him and only him. “What’s the story behind the sauce stain?”

“Holy shit,” Aiku says.

“I know,” Niko says.

“She’s a genius. A god. A fucking Barou whisperer,” he says.

“I know,” Niko says.

“What are the odds that we managed to find the exact girl that could put up with his bullshit?” Aiku says.

“Pretty high!” a new voice chimes in. It’s Y/N’s friend; she never introduced herself, and it doesn’t seem like she’s inclined to, but she inconspicuously slides her chair closer to where he and Niko are talking. “You guys are trying to set your friend up with Y/N, huh? Good luck. She only likes ugly dudes.”

“Barou’s…kind of ugly?” Niko tries. Aiku snorts.

“Let’s keep it honest here,” he says. “Anyways, what were you talking about earlier? Barou’s a nutcase. It’s, like, a miracle that Y/N’s managing to have a conversation with him.”

“Maybe he’s like that with you, but to me, he seems to be the type that’s totally respectful to women,” Y/N’s friend says, brandishing her index finger in the air as if she’s making a particularly salient point. “The bigger the muscles, the bigger the heart, isn’t that ”

“Is that a real saying?” Niko says.

“No, I just made it up,” Y/N’s friend says. “But it kind of fits in this instance, don’t you think?”

“You’re not wrong,” Aiku says. “But do you mean to say Barou would be this nice to any girl?”

“It’s not like I know him personally. Shouldn’t you be able to answer that better than me?” Y/N’s friend says.

“There aren’t any girls in Blue Lock,” Niko says. “This is the first time we’ve seen him interact with one, so we actually have no idea.”

“Ah,” she says. “That explains a lot. Anyways, yeah, if I had to guess, he would be.”

“Hm,” Aiku says. This throws a definite wrench in their plans — up until this point, he had been convinced that there were sparks flying between Y/N and Barou, mostly because he had never seen Barou so gentle and quick to calm down in his life. Yet, if Y/N’s friend is telling the truth, and he has no reason to think she isn’t, then this is actually just his true personality.

On the one hand, it’s comforting to know that Barou isn’t constantly on the verge of an aneurysm, and indeed can even be persuaded towards kindness in his day-to-day life. On the other, it doesn’t solve their problem, which is getting him to calm down when he’s interacting with his fellow Ubers teammates.

Aiku comes to a decision relatively quickly. It’s his experience as a captain which lends him that swiftness; on the field, split-second decisions are the only way to go. He’s good at taking information and rapidly synthesizing it to come up with workable solutions, and though this isn’t a soccer match, the stakes are almost just as high.

The facts of the situation are as follows: Y/N does not seem to mind talking to Barou, and given that they’ve been engaged in conversation almost this entire time, the inverse is also likely true. Furthermore, she’s proven able to persuade him not to freak out at himself and Niko when they were pushing his buttons, which is something no one has ever managed before and is somewhat the end goal of the outing. Of course, she apparently only likes ugly guys, and Barou’s far from ugly — as a fellow member of the non-ugly community, Aiku is confident in saying this — but things like that are subjective, so he decides he shouldn’t worry too much about that aspect.

Then there are the theories, namely Y/N’s best friend’s one about how any girl might have a similar effect on Barou. This could be true, or it could also not be, but Aiku only has one data point and a limited amount of time to work with, so despite the likely veracity, he has to set it aside as false for the time being. It’s not like there’s an endless supply of girls just hanging around for him to test out Barou’s reactions with, so in this moment, he’s deeming Y/N L/N as a special case, an outlier, and this can only lead to one conclusion:

Barou is totally into her.

“Two younger sisters, really?” you say. While your best friend has been talking to Aiku and Niko in hushed tones, you’ve been preoccupied with Barou, who’s proven himself to be nothing like his first impression. You had expected him to be fussy and rude and intimidating, and while the latter adjective certainly still applies, he’s kind instead of spiteful and almost shy instead of brash.

“Yeah,” he says, and there’s a smile in his voice, although his face does not shift in the slightest. “They’re much smaller, so I look after them a lot — when I’m home, anyways. Obviously, I haven’t seen them since I’ve been at Blue Lock.”

“How sweet of you,” you say. “I bet your mother appreciates you a lot.”

“I try to help her whenever I can,” he says.

You’re about to internally swoon, but then you stop yourself. So what if he’s athletic, helps his mother, is tall, handsome, kind, muscular, and supposedly good with kids? That doesn’t mean anything. He probably has a girlfriend, anyways, given all of these positive attributes—

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you say, standing up. Your best friend looks over at you in concern, for she knows of your distaste for public restrooms, and then she, too, stands.

“Want me to come?” she says.

“Yes,” you say, striding off without further explanation. As soon as the two of you are far enough from the table, you give her a distressed look. “I need help.”

“What’s up?” she says.

“I think—”

“Are you into Barou?” she asks, cutting you off. You blink at her.

“How did you know?” you say.

“You’ve spent almost the entire time talking only to him. It’s a little obvious,” she says.

“Oh, no,” you say. “He’s definitely caught on, then!”

“It’s not a big deal. According to Aiku and Niko, he’s single, so that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about, and besides, if that’s the case, then he’s fair game, isn’t he? There’s nothing wrong with being interested in someone,” she says.

“He’s single? How?” you say. “You’re telling me no one’s been interested in him yet? That’s impossible.”

“There is the whole ‘locked away in a facility with zero girls’ aspect to be considered…” she says.

“Well, that’s true,” you say, feeling dumb for having forgotten that. “Do you think he’s interested in me?”

“He’s been talking to you back, right? That’s a good sign, especially since he’s been ignoring his friends to do so,” she says. “There’s a decent chance. If anything, does he seem like the kind of guy that would be mean about rejecting you? You should just ask him for his number when we get back.”

“Me? Ask for his number?” you say.

“I’ve heard girls have high success rates when they approach guys that they’re into. What’s the worst that can happen? Either way, the three of them are heading back to some weird facility after tonight, so we can just leave and never see them again if it’s awkward,” she says.

You mull this over. Nothing she’s saying is wrong, and anyways, it’s been a while since you dated someone. Besides, you’ll probably not meet someone like Barou again for a long, long time, and when you really think about it, you’d rather live with a rejection than a what-if scenario floating around in your mind for the rest of your life.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll do it, but that means you have to dump the gerbil dude and move on.”

“Did that earlier. I couldn’t stop thinking of Tinkerbell the gerbil whenever I saw his profile picture; it totally killed the mood. Thanks a lot,” she says.

“It’s my pleasure,” you say. “Now, let’s go back. I have a number to get!”

“Um, hold on,” she says. “I do actually have to pee, and the bathroom doesn’t seem too dirty.”

You sigh, because now that you’re this pumped up, you don’t want to delay any longer, but you’re not about to abandon her, so you nod towards the door.

“I’ll wait here, then. Be quick!”

“Well, well, well,” Aiku says. “Who would’ve thought we’d get to see the day?”

“What are you talking about?” Barou says when he notices that both Aiku and Niko are looking at him.

“What aren’t we talking about?” Aiku says.

“It’s Y/N,” Niko says, defusing the volatile atmosphere rather efficiently. Aiku hands him a French fry off of his plate as a form of praise; accepting it happily, Niko chews and swallows before continuing. “You like her, right?”

“What? No,” Barou says quickly — too quickly, which means the answer is the opposite of what he’s just said. Aiku steeples his fingers together, because he couldn’t have imagined things going any better, and he feels like he’s entitled to a villainous pose or two every now and again.

“You’ve been talking to her the entire time we’ve been eating, and you didn’t yell at her when she told you to calm down,” Aiku says.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Barou says.

“I guess it’s for the better,” Niko says. “Her friend told us she has a boyfriend.”

Aiku’s about to reprimand him for making things up, but before he can, he sees out of the corner of his eye that the tips of Barou’s ears have turned a surprisingly light and rosy pink, and then he can only shake his head in amazement. Niko’s really fucking good at this. Aiku almost wonders if he should ask the kid for anime recommendations or something.

“Really?” Barou says.

“Really,” Niko says.

“That’s — I mean, it’s none of my business, so why are you telling me?” Barou says.

“You’re awfully upset if that’s the case,” Aiku points out.

“I’m not upset!” Barou says. “Just…I wasn’t expecting her not to be single, that’s all.”

“Expecting, or hoping?” Aiku says. Barou glares at him but does not respond, which tells Aiku all he needs to know. “It’s okay for you to have a crush on her. She seems nice enough.”

“Yeah,” Niko says. “If you guys get along, then there’s no harm in just asking her out. We’re going back to Blue Lock after dinner anyways, so it’s not like you’ll see her in the future if you don’t want to. Can you live with yourself if you don’t give it a shot?”

“Aren’t you a king?” Aiku urges. “What kind of king doesn’t put his best foot forward at all times?”

“The kind of king that respects other people’s relationships, you chewed up wad of spearmint gum,” Barou says.

“Oh, I was just making that up,” Niko says. “I wanted to see how you’d react. She’s definitely single.”

“You—!”

Aiku and Niko are saved from another one of Barou’s tirades by the arrival of Y/N and her friend. With a final malevolent sneer, Barou continues to talk to Y/N, who seems eager to pick up where they left off. Aiku high-fives Niko under the table.

“You’re a genius, buddy,” he says.

“Does this mean you’ll buy me dessert, too?” Niko says.

“If you’ll share with me, then sure.”

“Deal.”

“When should I ask him for his number? It’ll be awkward if I do it in front of everyone, I think,” you say.

“Why would it be awkward?” she says. “I’m not about to judge you. I already know you’re going to do it.”

“I was talking about Aiku and Niko,” you say, though you’re specifically referring to Aiku — there’s a sense of naïveté to Niko, so the thought of being so bold in front of him doesn’t make you squeamish, but it’s a difference case with his counterpart. Oliver Aiku has a sort of suaveness to him that makes you feel as though he’s not been rejected once in his life, and that’s more than a little terrifying. What might such a master say about your feeble attempts at flirting? You don’t want to imagine it. The mere beginnings of the thought are preemptively giving you hives, so having the thought fully formed, or heaven forbid the actual event occurring…you shudder at the plethora of side effects you’ll no doubt undergo.

“That’s fair,” she says. “I can distract them, if you want. While we’re getting dessert, I’ll tell Aiku I’m having car trouble and ask if he can take a look. He seems like the kind of guy that would fall for that. I don’t know what to do about Niko, though…”

“He’ll probably go with Aiku, but even if he doesn’t, I think it’ll be fine if it’s just him there,” you say. “He’s pretty harmless.”

“You better not wimp out, then! If I have to embarrass myself by pretending to know nothing about cars, then the least you can do is actually ask for his number,” she says.

“I’ll do it!” you say. She obviously doesn’t believe you, so you pout. “Promise I will.”

“Fine,” she says.

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine!” she says again. “Just give me a second before we go back, then. I need to think of what kinds of issues my car will be having…”

“Hey, Aiku,” Y/N’s friend says. The entire table falls silent, including Aiku himself — he’s more than a little confused about what she could want with him. After all, he’s not done anything that would seem like he’s trying to pursue her, so there’s no reason for her to believe he’s interested, and it’s not like they’re close enough for her to be talking to him in specific.

“What’s up?” he says.

“My car is making a weird sound when it starts. I was going to wait to ask my dad when I got home, but if you know anything about cars, could you maybe…?” she says.

Aiku knows nothing about cars, and he’s about to tell her as much, but then Niko of all people is answering. He hasn’t heard the boy talk this much since they met, which means he’s really getting into this.

“Sure, we can both take a look while we wait for dessert to come,” he says. It’s suspicious, because if Aiku knows nothing about cars, then Niko’s understanding has to be in the negatives. The kid doesn’t even have his driver’s license yet, so how would he be of any help? Unless this is another skill he’s picked up from watching anime, in which case it seems like that’s another hobby Aiku needs to take up.

“Thanks,” Y/N’s friend says, clearly relieved. “Y/N, do you mind staying back so no one takes our table?”

“Barou, keep her company,” Niko says. “We don’t want them thinking we’re the dine-and-dash type.”

“It’s okay with me,” Y/N says before Barou can argue, which effectively shuts Barou up. Aiku’s beloved teammate only grunts in agreement, watching the trio out of the corner of his eyes as they scurry out of the restaurant and begin to wander about aimlessly in the parking lot.

“Can you, uh, describe this noise to me?” Aiku says. It’s not like that knowledge will really change much for him, but he thinks that it might be better if he at least pretends to put forth some effort into assisting the girl. After all, it’d be bad for business if he gets flamed as the rude, unhelpful type.

“Huh? Oh, I made that up,” she says.

“As I expected,” Niko says.

“What? Why would you do that?” Aiku says. Then he comes to a realization, and it’s like a bucket of ice water has been poured over his head. “Hold on just a second, I’m not the one looking for—”

“That was a great method of leaving Y/N and Barou alone,” Niko says, cutting Aiku off before he can continue to embarrass himself. “Now they can figure things out between themselves.”

“Right?” Y/N’s friend says. “There’s only so much they can do when we’re all sitting there.”

“Yeah, awesome idea,” Aiku says, relieved to hear that she’s on their side. Girls take their friends’ opinions seriously. If Y/N’s best friend approves of Barou, then that’s a plus in Barou’s favor, and given Barou’s uniqueness, he needs all of the pluses he can get.

“And just so you know, you’re not my type, so don’t take any of this in a weird way. I just want Y/N to be happy,” she continues.

“Duly noted,” Aiku says.

“Sorry I wasn’t faster in cutting you off,” Niko whispers when Y/N’s friend pulls out her phone and begins to play on it again. Aiku shrugs.

“No worries. Nobody’s perfect,” he says. “Although, honestly? If this night ends up the way we want it to, then I’d say you’re pretty damn close regardless.”

“I’m really sorry,” Barou says as soon as your best friend, Aiku, and Niko have exited the building.

“For what?” you say. The crowd is dwindling, for the restaurant is nearing its closing time, but it’s still busy enough that you have to stay close to him in order to be able to hear what he’s saying. Or maybe that’s an excuse you’ve made for yourself; either way, he doesn’t pull back, so you remain in the comfortable space between you both.

“Aiku,” he says. “Also Niko, but mostly Aiku.”

“Why? He’s not done anything too horrible,” you say. “He’s pretty funny. And Niko seems like a nice boy.”

“They have this idea in their mind,” he says. “It’s totally stupid, but that’s why they’re acting like this. They’re not usually quite as idiotic.”

“What do you mean?” you say. You almost want to tell him to hurry up so you can ask for his number before the others come back and your best friend gets upset with you, but you’d rather listen to him talk, and anyways once you ask him for his number there’s a chance things will go wrong, so you want to soak in these last few seconds before that happens.

“I mean, you know,” he says, and then he’s turning a color you never would’ve expected from someone as reputedly tough as him. “Just that they think I like you.”

“Like me?” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Like I’m into you or something.”

You had hoped for it, but not seriously considered it — although, the teasing and whatnot do make a little more sense now that he’s added this context to it. If Aiku and Niko think he might be into you…you know you shouldn’t be fanciful, that it’ll eventually lead to disappointment, but you want to. You really want to, so when you next speak it’s tentative but optimistic.

“If you are,” you begin, nervous more than anything, though you’re certain the only cure is getting this over with, “I am, too. Into you, I mean.”

Barou’s lips are still parted as if he’s about to say something, but no words escape him. He just sits there and stares at you, as if you’ve said something profound or shocking or both. Probably both. You giggle, shifting in your seat and adjusting your position, because seeing him like this is endearing as much as it is uncomfortable.

“If you’re not, it’s alright, but my friend told me I should ask you for your number or something, so I don’t have any regrets when we leave,” you say. “She’s right, too. I’d have felt horrible forever if I never said anything.”

He’s still silent. You question if you’ve somehow caused him to malfunction, so you nudge his foot with your own under the table. This does nothing to break him out of his daze, and then you realize he’s probably trying to figure out how to best reject you, so you sigh.

“It’s okay to say no. There’s no expectation on my part. I just wanted to get it out there,” you say.

“No!” he says.

“Well, I mean, you didn’t have to be exuberant about it,” you mutter to yourself before smiling. “That’s okay, though! Thank you for listening and talking to me—”

“I mean, yes. No. I don’t know which question I’m supposed to be answering!” he says. “I do like you. That’s what I’m trying to say, but you just said so many things that I didn’t know what to respond to.”

“You like me?” you say. You had never in your wildest fantasies imagined someone like Barou being into you. It was the kind of thing that just didn’t happen, and yet, somehow, it had. Barou liked you.

“I guess so,” he says. “That’s how Aiku would phrase it, I think. I enjoy talking to you, and you have nice table manners. You kept your hands and surroundings clean, and you didn’t spill anything, which is more than can be said about a lot of people. I really appreciate that kind of trait in a person.”

“Uh, thanks?” you say, because you’ve not really been complimented on your table manners before, but it’s kind of sweet. “Yeah, thanks. I’d compliment you back, but there’s so many things to say that I wouldn’t know where to start…”

“How about with your phone number?” he says. You’re pretty sure that that’s uncharacteristically bold of him, because his eyes widen as soon as he comprehends what he’s said, but he doesn’t take it back. Instead, he waits, his hands folded carefully in his lap as he watches you, probably wondering what you’ll say in response to the request.

Smiling at him, you pull out your phone and open your hand, waiting for him to give you his.

“You got her number?” Aiku says as they’re driving home. Niko’s in the backseat this time, mostly because he offhandedly mentioned feeling nauseous after eating and Aiku has no interest in getting vomit all over him. “Way to go, man.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Barou says, gazing out of the window mysteriously. “I can’t exactly take her on dates or anything while I’m stuck in Blue Lock.”

“If you get Snuffy’s permission, you could,” Aiku says.

“We probably shouldn’t abuse that,” Niko says. “Otherwise, Ego will come up with some insane punishment for all of us. The guy’s a super-freak. I’m sure he’s got some crazy stuff stored away.”

“Very true,” Aiku says. “Don’t worry too much, though, Barou. If she’s the one, she won’t mind waiting.”

“How can I know if she’s the one when we’ve only met once? You’re delusional,” Barou says.

“It’s pretty simple,” Aiku says. “Do you want her to be?”

The moonlight hits Barou in a particularly elegant way at that moment. Aiku’s suddenly not surprised that Niko’s anime intelligence worked so well — Barou seems straight out of a girlish romance novel or TV show or something along those lines just then.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

“Then that’s that!” Aiku says, pulling into the garage and putting Snuffy’s car in park. “Trust me, there was major chemistry there, so I’m sure she’s of the same opinion.”

“It’ll work out,” Niko agrees. He’s clearly feeling much better now that they’re not in the car, his steps light and bouncy, his lips curving upwards at the corners. “You’re a great guy, Barou. We were talking about it earlier.”

Barou scoffs. “Of course I am.”

“Classic Barou,” Aiku says, throwing his arm around Barou’s shoulder. “So humble.”

“Get off of me,” Barou grumbles, shoving Aiku away, though there’s a marked gentleness to it that tells Aiku their plan worked. He’s excited to see the long-term effects — if only one dinner with Y/N was enough for Barou to relax this much, then the duration of their relationship might be akin to a vacation for the rest of the Ubers.

That night, Aiku and Niko are brushing their teeth in the bathrooms together, since nobody else is up and there’s a certain camaraderie built between them after their adventure.

“We did good today, Niko,” Aiku says after spitting his toothpaste into the sink.

“Agreed,” Niko says.

The door slams open right after he does, which is horribly ironic timing, because it reveals a furious Barou. He’s already enormous, but his fury causes him to swell until his proportions are vaguely Hulk-like and entirely terrifying. Both Aiku and Niko glance at him in confusion, because he should have no reason to be upset, and then, right before he can start yelling, it hits them like a truck.

“Hey, you donkeys,” Barou hisses. “Did you think you could distract me by taking me to dinner? That stain is still there. Can neither of you do anything for yourselves? I’m going to kill you both, mark my words!”

Aiku groans. Niko face-palms.

Fuck.

#barou x reader #barou x you #barou x y/n #barou shoei #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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mi-i-zori · 20 hours

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A Tiny World

CoD - 141 x Snail (OC/Fem!Reader)

SYNOPSIS : Snail really likes to play Animal Crossing to relax. Turns out, Ghost does too.

WARNINGS : None. But please read the Author’s Note below.

Author’s Note : Snail is an OC that can be read as a Fem!Reader - I do my best no to describe her too much, but may sometimes say that she’s small (height) and has long hair.

I do not give anyone permission to re-publish and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.

Playing Animal Crossing is Snail’s way to escape the world whenever she can’t do or focus on anything else.

At the beginning, her first goal is to fill the museum to the brim - which she does pretty quickly, allowing her character to sit on a bench in front of the exhibits and enjoy the music playing in her ears. The aquarium is her go-to place to fully relax. Sometimes, she even falls asleep, leaving her little persona to bob her head left and right while watching the fishes.

When she really wants to empty her mind, she focuses on building her own little world. She’s quite indecisive about the theme she wants to follow to decorate her island, which leads her to divide it in multiple « regions ». Each one has an aesthetic that progressively gives way to another one, like a natural border that allows her to create a smaller theme in-between.

To go with these regions, she’s made different characters. They, too, live in a house and are dressed to fit a specific theme, and she enjoys crafting stories for each one of them. Her favourite house is like her own little museum, filled to the brim with curiosities of all kinds. Insects, fishes, plants, skeletons… The main room looks like an old apothecary shop, and a part of her longs to be able to make her own apartment a real version of this virtual house.

Ever since he stumbled upon her playing quietly in the common room, Ghost has been sharing this moment of peace with her, watching her play, learning about the game and the little world and characters she’s bringing to life. He rejected her offer to create his own character in there, but it doesn’t stop him from sitting next to her and throwing a few glances at the screen while reading or watching TV, or fully focusing on it while sipping on a cuppa.

« You sure you don’t even want to try playing a little bit, LT ? » Is what Snail keeps asking every single time - and, at some point, Simon gives in.

He finds that he really enjoys fishing the most, hunting bugs being a close second. Snail excitedly explains every single mechanic of the game to him, and the roles end up being reversed. She’s now the one watching him play as he keeps catching the most expensive things for her to sell as if he’s been doing this for his entire life, and he quietly listens as she blurts out random trivia about whatever fish or bug the little character is showing off.

There’s a moment when a neighbour actually manages to steal the expert’s target, immediately digging their own grave. Simon now sees a mortal enemy in them, and is ready to unleash hell on their life whenever he can. Snail taught him how to use the net as a weapon, causing him to whack the poor fellow on sight, despite her asking him to not be too mean. She likes this neighbour - it’s a frog, after all, and they’re nice to her. She does her best to keep them on her island, making it up to them after Simon’s spent at least an hour bullying them.

To try and salvage what’s left of her friendship with that neighbour, Snail introduces him to the islanders she actually wants to move away.

« LT, this one said the custom mushroom dress I made for myself wasn’t fashionable. Can you please help me unleash Hell on them until they leave ? »

« This guy put his house on the beautiful patch of rare flowers I’d made for my new zone. It took me weeks to get them all and now I have to remake everything ! »

« I don’t vibe with this islander. They’re mean to everyone, and made my best friend sad. »

« Equip your net, » is what he always says in return, settling comfortably on the couch before grabbing the controller.

Simon never realised how satisfying it could be to whack the characters of a cute video game on the head in-between a few sessions of fishing. So much that it’s become a little ritual now.

Though he still adamantly refuses to create his own character.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 days

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The Quicksilver Princess Chapter 6

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None really. A bit of magical violence. A kiss. Some angst.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 7,907

A/N: First of all - I'm so sorry for the length of this chapter. There was a lot to get through. 😁🫣 Secondly, I'm so unbelievably happy that I FINALLY got to give this story an ending! I've loved writing it, but fantasy is tough! Lol! But I'm happy and proud of the story as a whole, so I sure hope you enjoy this final chapter. And to those of you who've read the story and encouraged me to continue, thank you so much for your patience.

I know OFC's aren't most people's favourites, but I encourage you to give the story a shot, and I hope you enjoy it. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Melissande strained against the chains that held her immobile on the cold, stone table, even though she knew her struggles were pointless. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the iron binding her.

Layo’ita began to gather things from around the room, filling the pockets of the long black cloak she wore over her royal finery. She wore no elaborate headdress or hairstyle now, instead the wide hood of the cloak kept her face slightly in shadow.

She gathered plants and herbs, potions, many colorful crystals, and a small silver dagger, preparing everything, and going about her evil plan while she spoke.

“You have no idea how patient I’ve had to be, how meticulous with every detail.” She looked back to where Yasa stood slumped weakly against the wall. Melissande was terrified by his increased pallor. He raised his head slightly to watch Layo’ita as she continued.

“It would have been much easier if you weren’t such a nosy, troublesome thing.” She said to Yasa, her tone annoyed. “I hadn’t planned on duplicating you until this one turned eighteen.”

She waved dismissively towards Melissande. “But you just had to galavant off to your beloved Winchesters and try to outsmart me.”

Her smile was shadowed. “I took care of them without much trouble. But their meddling forced me to enact my plan much earlier than I’d wanted. It takes a lot of power and strength to hold on to a Duplicate, to make them seem natural and believable. I certainly wasn’t planning on having to keep it up for a dozen years!”

She huffed out a breath, clearly feeling put upon. “The difficulty with a Duplicate is that they give a sense, after a while at least, that something isn’t quite right. The smell begins to cause doubt and there can be no contact because of their cold skin. So, on top of everything else I had to take care of, I had to work at changing your reputation, sending out whispers that your brush with assassination had made you afraid and nervous to be around people.”

Sha laughed lightly. “No one seemed to miss the real you very much, or push to see you. Fooling people got easier as your reputation as kind of a recluse spread.”

She shook her head. “I’ve tried so often to fix the issues with the Duplicates, but I simply couldn’t manage it. It is very frustrating.” She claimed in an annoyed tone. “But it’s why I knew early on that I needed to make you to say goodbye to your visits with this brat and whore wife number four. If you’d kept visiting, they’d have known you too well and recognized the differences very quickly.”

Layo’ita pushed back her hood to reveal another ghoulish grin. “So, I convinced you that my heart was broken, made you believe I actually cared where you spent your nights or how many bastards you fathered.”

She snickered and looked at Melissande. “It was surprisingly easy to convince him to walk away from you and Hera. Hardly more than a few tears.”

Yasa shook his head. “That’s not true.” He said weakly, looking at Melissande. “It’s not true, poppet. I was just trying to do the right thing.” His body sagged further down the wall. “I’m sorry.”

Melissande shook her head. “I know, Papa, I know. It’s alright, we’re together now; that’s all that matters.”

Layo’ita cackled. “Oh, yes, yes! Together again - but not for long.”

Yasa’s breathing was short and slightly labored, as though standing for so long had sapped him of what little strength he had. His voice was thin, but it held a note of steel as he spoke again.

“Layo, I don’t understand. Where does this hate for me come from? We were friends once, weren’t we? I always tried to afford you the respect and care you deserved. Is this simply because I couldn’t love you? The heart pays little attention to anything but its own tune, you must know that. I did everything I could to honor my duty to you and our son.”

Layo’ita scoffed as she began to chop up some of the plants, along with what looked to Melissande to be a human tongue, tossing them all into a large, gold bowl.

“I couldn’t have cared less whether you loved me or didn’t.”

Melissande heard a flicker of something in the First Queen’s voice that told her that she did care, much more than she admitted.

“I don’t hate you." She continued. "In fact, I don’t care about you at all, except that you’re in my way. I’ve always known I was born for something great, that the old gods fashioned me for power. But instead, my whole life was simply about learning to be your wife, a mother to future kings who would rule. But never me.”

She stopped chopping and set down the knife, walking closer to Yasa. “I didn’t want you to honor me as the ‘First Queen’ and I never wanted to be your ‘True Wife’.”

Layo’ita shook her head. “My whole life I was taught to stand beside power.” Her voice dipped low. “But I knew I was born to wield it.”

She looked over to Melissande. “But it wasn’t until this bouncing baby brat came into the world that I finally realized just how to make that power mine.”

She went to the small fireplace set into the southern wall and tossed some more of the plants onto the flames. They gave off an acrid scent that made Melissande’s eyes water a little. The Queen stirred them into the low burning flames, watching the plants burn up.

“I didn’t know what she was right away, but I knew she’d be special. I’d heard the legends of course of other Coll family members and ancestors who’d had the quicksilver eyes, but she was the first one in a very long time. And I just knew something like that had to come from magic. So, I began digging into the history of the family.” She paused to look back at Yasa with a smile. “Your aunt would have been proud at how well I learned my lessons from her.”

She shrugged. “It didn’t take long for me to realize you were descended from fairies, and that’s when I knew how to rid myself of you, and take on the power of the crown all for myself.”

Yasa attempted a laugh that came out as a cough. “Come on Layo, you don’t actually believe that nonsense, do you? Do we look like fairies? It’s just an old, silly legend, made up by one of my ancestors, no doubt, to try and make the Coll family seem even more suited and destined for the throne.”

Layo’ita just shook her head with a mysterious smile. “You’re wrong, Yasa. You’ve always underestimated magic. You shouldn’t.”

Melissande heard her father’s words and the strangest feeling came over her; it was like something deep in her soul was shouting out a denial of what he was saying. It wasn’t a legend; it was real. She knew it like she knew how to breathe; it was instinctual, automatic. It was an odd feeling when just the day before she’d had almost the exact same reaction as her father when Rowena told her she was part fey.

But there was something about being in this place, so completely submerged in magic, that made the reality of her lineage very apparent to her. Something inside was screaming at her to believe, to soak up the magic surrounding her and allow it to flow through her.

Layo’ita stabbed at the fire with a poker until the logs and plants burned together into embers, and then into ash which she scooped up into a smaller silver bowl. She brought it over to the table where Melissande lay, and from inside her pocket she withdrew the silver dagger. She chanted something and then sliced a small, but fairly deep cut in Melissande’s left arm, making her gasp at the sting.

The First Queen rested the silver bowl beneath her arm, collecting her blood as it leaked from her veins. She took the bowl away, allowing the blood to trail down Melissande’s arm and onto the table. Then using the dagger, she mixed the ash and blood together, continuing to chant as she spread the sticky paste that it made, over Melissande’s feet and across her forehead.

The chants turned into a slow, soft song, as Layo’ita began to arrange the plethora of crystals she carried, around the outline of Melissande’s body. When she was done, Melissande felt the crystals warming her up in the cold chamber, each brightly colored stone giving off ripples of heat.

Layo’ita picked up the silver dagger again and approached Yasa. “Duplicating you, keeping the kingdom from knowing the truth, has been exhausting for these last twelve years. Every day, I’ve worried that this would be the day someone figured it out. I simply can’t go on like this forever.”

She shrugged. “So, my answer is to soak up your essence to put into my Duplicate, so he looks real and right. No more traces of sulfur, no more cold skin. But still very much under my control." She smiled. "I've found my solution at last."

She sighed. “Unfortunately, the only way to collect your essence,” she raised the dagger, “is to cut it out of you.”

“No!” Melissande shouted.

Yasa’s pallid face looked defiant and proud as he stood to his full height, in spite of the way his legs shook with exhaustion. Layo’ita looked slightly amused at his pride and defiance.

“You forget yourself, Layo. Do you not recall that you gave me a son, an heir. You can strike me down, but one day he will come to claim his crown and avenge me in the process.”

The Queen cackled again. “Oh my dear, I would be surprised if he even remembers you. I’ve been assured that he’s quite happy governing in The Lands Beyond and holding on to his own little piece of the world.”

She shrugged again. “But, if the babe I birthed tries to come and claim what I have taken, well, then he’ll meet your same fate.”

The First Queen lifted the dagger, aiming it at Yasa’s heart and Melissande saw it flash in the light of the dying fire as she screamed out her horror.

***

Four more Winchesters had joined Dean’s ranks before they set off from King’s Town, and as it turned out, sixteen experienced and well-trained Winchesters were more than capable of taking down the Guardsmen.

At the witching hour, under the cover of night, the Winchesters blended into the darkness and silently approached the castle. They split into four groups of four, and each team was charged with securing one of the North, East, South, and West facing entrances.

They’d agreed at the outset to do everything they could to not kill the guardsmen. Despite their extreme dislike of the order, and the grudge they held against the usurping guardsmen, they all begrudgingly agreed that the soldiers were just doing their duty in protecting the castle. So, they would do all they could to spare them.

But in the end, some of the guards fought bravely and gave the Winchesters a real challenge, but a great many of the guardsmen surrendered as soon as they saw the Winchesters fighting like the Warriors they were.

Dean, Robert, Jody, and Ketch made up one team, going through the North-facing entrance. There were approximately thirty soldiers at that entrance, and only six of them put up a fight, battling hard. But the Warriors still won handily, with only a broken nose for Ketch and two broken fingers for Jody.

After they’d been subdued, Dean grabbed one of the more cowardly looking guardsmen and demanded that he take him to Mellie.

“Now!” Dean shouted and the man trembled as he rushed to obey. Dean had to shake his head a little. How on earth had the kingdom stayed safe with these guardsmen as its protectors?

Jody and Ketch stayed to watch over the guards left behind, and to coordinate with the other Warriors to make sure everything was going smoothly in the other battles. Dean and Robert followed the guard down endless flights of stone steps until they came upon the dungeon in the bowels of the castle.

They left the guard tied up at the entrance to the row of dungeon cells, and proceeded down to the last cell where the guard said Mellie was being held.

They slowed as they approached it, taking extra care with their surroundings, looking for booby traps, or something that would keep them from reaching her at the last minute.

But nothing appeared to attack them, and they approached the cell. Dean wanted to let out a whoop of relief as he saw Mellie behind the bars, lying on the hard ground.

She’s alive. He thought with cascading relief.

She was dirty and she shivered slightly in her sleep, but she was alive. Her brow puckered as though she was having bad dreams, but she was alive. Dean approached the bars as he sent Robert back to the guard.

“Get the key.” He told the older man, who raced off to find it. Dean called softly through the bars.

“Mellie, sweetheart, wake up. Wake up, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Mellie’s eyes flickered open, and confusion filled her expression for a moment as she sat up. But then she saw Dean and she gave a cry of surprise and happiness.

“Dean!” She jumped to her feet. “Oh Dean, you came! I knew you would.”

She approached the bars slowly, hesitatingly and Dean smiled at her warmly to let her know she was safe. As she drew nearer a slightly foul odor hit his nose, something like rotten eggs, and it made him want to take a step back. But he gave himself a mental shake.

Gods, man, he thought to himself, she’s been snatched up and thrown in a dungeon. What were you expecting her to smell like, roses?

He smiled at her again. “Robert’s gone to get the key, then we’ll get you out of here, somewhere safe, with a couple of Warriors to protect you and Robert and I will stay and demand to speak with your father, and try to find out what’s going on here.”

Mellie nodded. “Please be careful.”

Before he could respond, Robert was back with the key. Dean took it from him and pushed it into the rusted lock, unlocking the cell and pulling open the squeaking door. He rushed inside and ran up to Mellie, taking her upper arms in his hands, intending to pull her close. But when he touched her he was surprised.

“Mellie, you’re like ice.” He said with a frown, chafing her arms. “Robert, see if you can find a blanket somewhere.”

Robert nodded and set off. Dean took Mellie’s icy hand in his, intending to lead her out of the cell. But as her hand slipped into his, a sense of something dark slithered down his spine and suddenly his instincts were screaming at him, warning him.

He turned to look down at the woman walking beside him, and he was somehow sure something was off. For one thing, Mellie was never this quiet. She should be asking him a thousand questions about how they got in and who was with him. She should be saying “I told you so.” because the Winchesters had listened to him as she’d said they would.

He dropped her hand and stepped back from her. She looked slightly confused and a little hurt. “Dean, what is it?”

Dean shook his head, more sure than ever. He jerked his chin towards her. “I have no idea what you are, sweetheart, but you sure as hell aren’t Mellie.”

Remembering suddenly, Dean reached into the pouch on his hip and pulled out one of Rowena’s magic-revealing bags, and it glowed bright purple. Grabbing a matchbox from the same pouch, he quickly lit a match and then set the bundle ablaze.

In slight horror, Dean watched as “Mellie” went stone silent and unmoving before she went up in a literal puff of smoke. The air around him radiated the purple color as it thinned to a trail that led towards the back wall.

“Robert!” He called and the elder Warrior ran in, clearly confused by the still settling smoke and the purple air around them.

“It wasn’t her.” Dean said succinctly. “I don’t know what kind of illusion that was, but it was obviously meant to keep us from finding the real Mellie, and to keep us distracted until it’s too late.”

He pointed to the purple path in front of them and how it disappeared into the wall. “This is a protection bag from Rowena.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “You went to one witch to save you from another? What are the chances that she isn’t helping her?”

Dean shook his head. “No, trust me, we can trust her. On this at least. The bag glows purple in the presence of magic, and when it’s burned it reveals the magic that’s been used. This magic seems to be in the very air around us, and it seems to be leading us there.” He said, pointing.

“Into a wall.” Robert said, deadpan.

Dean nodded. “I wonder what’s on the other side.”

Robert nodded. “Alright, how do we break through?”

It took them far longer than Dean wanted to find equipment to try to chip away at the stone. His stomach was once again in his throat as he realized the eclipse was approaching fast.

But once they had pickaxes, they began pounding away at the stone and put a hole in the wall mercifully quickly. Once there was a small opening, the men tore at it with their bare hands, loosening rock and shoving it aside until there was a hole big enough for them to squeeze through.

When they were on the other side they saw they were standing on a landing at the top of a very long staircase. The stairs went on for so long, and went so deep beneath the castle, that they couldn’t make out the bottom of the steps; it ended in sheer darkness.

Though it was starting to fade, they still had the purple light in the air to follow, and it led them straight down the stairs.

It seemed to take forever to reach the bottom, and eventually the purple light disappeared completely, forcing Dean to strike match after match in an attempt to keep them from pitching headfirst down the increasingly damp stairs.

Finally, they reached the bottom, and followed a very pale light that was burning in the one and only cell. There was no one inside, and Dean wondered why the light still burned inside the cell.

Finally, he decided to burn the other bag, and see where the purple air would take them next. It had them continue down a very long corridor, until they finally reached a small, oval, wooden door. They were in the process of trying to find a way through, when Dean heard Mellie scream in terror and without hesitation, he smashed his body through the door.

***

It all happened so quickly; one moment the Queen was a breath away from murdering her father right in front of her, and the next moment there was a massive crash as the door splintered and Dean came charging through it.

Instantly Melissande’s eyes were filled with tears. “Dean.” She whispered.

Before she could do more than blink away the tears however, Dean and another man ran at Layo’ita, swords raised. With a blast of blue light from the center of her palms she threw the men back, spinning them through the air to land in a heap on the floor.

Dean got to his hands and knees and took cover behind a shelf full of tiny vials of potion. The older man sought cover as well, but didn’t find it quick enough and Layo’ita blasted him again, sending him crashing into the wall this time and knocking him out cold.

The Queen slowly walked towards the shelf Dean was hiding behind, shaking her head. “Now, now, hunter, you failed spectacularly at the mission I sent you on. But if you’re very good, I’ll let you stay alive for the show. As the sun rises, the moon will usurp its place in the sky, and the world will go dark. Then I will make my mark upon this land, and then the next kingdom, and the next and next, until all the world is held in the palm of my hand.”

Dean’s voice was deeply sardonic as he spoke. “Wow, it seems to me, like maybe you need a new pastime. You know, something else to focus on besides the whole, world conquering insanity. Cause, I mean, let’s be honest. Who the hell are you to claim ownership of the entire living world?”

Melissande could hear the rage in the Queen’s voice as she shouted at him. “I am born of the old gods, crafted by them, my destiny set down by them, written into the turning pages of time, before the world began. I am chosen among all the-”

“Got it!” Dean interrupted her. “You’re the very bestest and the gods really, really like you. That’s great, but I suppose that means I’m gonna make those old guys pretty angry when I put my sword through your black heart.”

Melissande could see the way Layo’ita’s face contorted in fury. “How dare you? You know you don’t stand a chance against me, boy! You mock the old gods, but they’re at my back, they guide me and give me power.”

She walked to one side of the shelf, creeping slowly, hiding her approach, but as she swept around to the back, Dean charged out from the other side, swinging his sword in a downward arc, coming within a hair’s breadth of taking off the queen’s head. But she jumped back just in time, and fired a bolt of magical power at him, tossing him aside, into the wall beside her father.

He rose again quickly, but not fast enough. Chains snaked out of the wall to wrap around Dean’s chest and thighs, pinning him in place. When he was completely immobilized, the Queen waved her hand and another set of chains wrapped themselves around Robert where he lay, still unconscious.

She approached Dean, wearing a smug smile. She reached out towards him, and used magic to pry his hand open and let his sword clatter to the ground.

Dean gave a frustrated growl through clenched teeth as the Queen reached him. She raised her hand up to run it down his cheek, and Dean turned his head, trying to jerk it away from her. But there was nowhere to move to.

Melissande watched his jaw flex tightly as Layo’ita ran her fingers from his cheek, down over his neck, and then across his broad chest.

The Queen sighed slightly. “You know, you certainly are a beautiful man. I might have to keep you. When the world is mine, I might need a pet, someone to keep me…entertained.” She moved her fingertips to his mouth and traced his bottom lip.

Dean turned cold eyes her way. “Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. Cause trust me, I bite.” He snapped his teeth at her fingers, and she just barely got them out of the way in time. She laughed, clearly exhilarated.

She practically purred at him. “Yes, I must find a place for you in my bedroom.”

“Get away from him!” Melissande shouted at her. She felt sick seeing Dean chained up and at the mercy of this fiendish madwoman. She’d brought this on him.

Layo’ita turned laughing eyes her way. “Oh, little princess, does it bother you to see him with someone else? Did you imagine he was in love with you just because he married you.”

When Melissande’s eyes grew wide, Layo’ita smirked. “Did you think I wasn’t aware of that pathetic attempt at trickery? But you won’t have to worry about that much longer. In fact,” she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, “soon you won’t have to worry about much of anything."

She looked up at the ceiling. “The sun is rising.”

There were no windows in the chamber, but somehow Melissande knew she was right; it was as if she could feel it on her skin.

The Queen returned to Melissande’s side, pressing her hand to her forehead as though she was checking Melissande for a fever. But she chanted softly, effectively ignoring the woman beneath her hand as she continued the ritual she’d been planning for nineteen years.

When her chant ended, she seemed to be almost in a trance, and she wandered back towards Dean and Yasa. The King seemed so faint now he could barely hold his head up. Layo’ita bent to pick up the dagger she’d dropped when Dean smashed through the door, and tilted her head to look at Yasa, studying him.

But then she raised the dagger in her hand again, and again Melissande screamed out in terror. “Papa!” As her scream crescendoed, something happened that hadn’t happened the first time.

One of the crystals on the stone table, the orange one beside her shoulder, cracked into shards and the pieces sailed across the room towards the Queen. The sharp splinters of rock sliced into her cheek and she screamed in pain and surprise.

She whipped around to see Melissande’s shocked expression as she felt something churning inside her. Something that felt as though it rose up from the bottom of her soul and the very tips of her toes. Without conscious thought, two more crystals splintered and hurled themselves at Layo’ita, making the woman scream at Melissande in frustration.

“What do you think you’re doing you little brat? Who do you think you are?”

Words swam up into Melissande’s mind, Rowena’s words, and she spoke them outloud.

“I am the direct descendant of Queen Caryn'se, Ruler of the Fae and these ancient lands from the time the world began.” She shook her head. “You think the old gods created you to be a force of power and tyranny, but I think you’re wrong.”

With almost no effort, Melissande snapped the iron links that bound her, sitting up and grasping two more crystals in her hands. The Queen shot a bolt of power at her, but it sparked out and died like a fizzled candle before it could touch the Princess.

Melissande felt her body begin to buzz with an inexplicable energy, powerful and potent. But it didn’t scare her, it excited her, and it cradled her, protected her as she stepped down from the table and faced Layo’ita as she continued.

“I believe that when the old gods crafted me, they fashioned my veins and filled them with the blood of the fey, the blood of Caryn’se.” She held up the crystals in her palms. “They gave me the protection of the earth, the protection of Sanso’ye itself. The land of the silver-eyed people belongs to my ancestors, and we will not allow you to make our people suffer any longer!”

Melissande’s voice was vibrating with power, and she could see the white light that surrounded her, emanating from her entire body. As the Queen tried to bombard her with more and more flashes of dark magic, Melissande looked to where her father and Dean stood chained. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, but then Dean smiled as she caught his eye. It was a warm smile, and it even looked a little proud.

Melissande sent another crystal flying towards Dean. The gem barely touched his chains, but they quickly fell away. As soon as he was free, he immediately leapt for his sword.

Layo'ita spun to face him, hand raised to throw more magic at him, and the chains had started reaching out for him again.

But Melissande shook her head. “No.” She said softly and four crystals broke apart and shot through the air to stab into the Queen’s skin, causing her to screech in pain.

Her scream was short-lived, however as Dean got ahold of his sword and swung it true, following through on his promise, and plunging it through her heart.

The Queen’s face, skull-like and imobile, nevertheless wore a look of unbelievable shock as she fell backwards off of Dean’s sword and landed in a heap on the ground. Blood plumed across her chest, and as her last breath rattled out of her lungs, the Queen reached towards Melissande, as though, even in her last moments of life, she was desperately trying to grasp onto power.

After the Queen's death rattle, silence reigned for a moment, and Melissande could feel the power that had surged through her, begin to ebb, slowly melting away until she was just herself again, just a girl standing on very shaky legs.

Dean dropped his sword and ran to her, grasping her cheeks; his eyes flicked over her face quickly, taking inventory. Then without a word he claimed her lips in a stunning kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and stamping her with it. He swallowed down her surprised cry, turning his head so he could slot his mouth over hers again and again.

They might have stayed like that forever if not for the King softly clearing his throat.

They nearly leapt away from each other as they were interrupted. They looked over to where Yasa stood, still weak and leaning against the wall, but also free from the chains. Melissande’s eyes widened.

“How did you get out of the chains?”

The king pointed to where Robert was stirring slightly, his chains were also broken and laying on the floor. Yasa shrugged. “The magic died with her, I suppose.”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I hate to pull you apart, but I do believe we should get out of this vile place.”

Dean sprang into action. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” He looked at the man’s spindly limbs and bit his lip. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but there are many, many stairs to climb in order to get out of here. Will you allow me to carry you out?”

Yasa nodded. “Thank you Winchester.” As Dean moved to pick him up though, the King put a hand on his arm. “I owe you my life, and my kingdom and I want you to know, it wasn’t truly me who…who ordered your father’s death and your brother’s imprisonment. John and Sam were incredibly decent and loyal men, and I will make immediate moves to see to it your brother is released and your father is pardoned of all false crimes. I’m so sorry that I ever called on them for help.”

Dean’s jaw ticked and he swallowed sharply, but he shook his head. “No, Sir. You have nothing to apologize for. My father died trying to protect his King, as he’d vowed. And now that people will know that, he can rest peacefully and honorably.”

Dean swallowed tightly again. “But I’m very grateful to have my little brother back as soon as possible.”

The King nodded. “It shall be done.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Dean said before he easily picked up the stick thin man.

Melissande felt her heart constrict as she imagined the joy waiting for Dean when Sam was finally freed at last. But she shook her head at her father. “Yes, we’ll do it all, but first, I believe I promised you warm soup and warm blankets.”

***

Two months later:

In the time that followed there was much rejoicing and reuniting; the kingdom learned slowly about all that had happened at the castle, both twelve years ago and at the equinox. Astonishment was high, but as time moved forward, the astonishment turned into great joy. A huge celebration was planned and many, many people were invited.

All the King’s children had been called back home for a time, the invitation extended to their families as well. Yasa was determined to reconnect with his children, explain what had happened, and meet his grandchildren. He was slowly gaining weight, and color had returned to his skin, so he was more than ready to receive the rest of his family.

Melissande was slightly nervous about seeing her siblings again, or in the case of her eldest brother, seeing him for the very first time. But mostly she was excited, and she was happy that her father had survived to see his children all gathered under one roof.

Queen Hera had been given a place of honor for her eternal resting place. She'd been buried within the King’s Castle graveyard where Yasa could go put flowers on her grave easily while he recuperated. Melissande had caught him talking to her a few times when she came to pay her respects. Her father had been embarrassed at first, but she shook her head.

“No, Papa, don’t be ashamed. I talk to her all the time.” Tears filled her eyes. “I miss her very much, but I think she listens to us and it makes her happy to hear from us.”

Yasa nodded and kissed the crown of his daughter’s head. “You have your mother’s gentle spirit, and kind, loving heart.” He chucked her chin and winked at her. “But I’m gonna take credit for providing you with the fierce, unimaginable power you wield like a sword on behalf of your people.”

Melissande laughed. “I think that part comes along with these.” She said, pointing to her silver eyes and giving a shrug. “So, it probably does come from your side.”

When it came to her powers, she was still a little daunted by them, but with Rowena’s help she was beginning to learn about them, and how to manage them.

There was some pushback from the church as the Kingdom made moves towards embracing the old gods and magic once again. But the King told them simply that this had always been a realm of magic, and when you repressed it, or left only a few to practice it, you ended up with power-hungry rivals for the throne and no one to check them.

There was a lot of grumbling at first, but those on different sides of the issue were starting to come together and at least work towards peace and harmony.

One of the happiest moments for Melissande in the months after escaping from the Queen’s wrath, had been when the prisoners were freed from the mines. It wasn’t only Sam that had been wrongly imprisoned. There were many that Layo’ita had sent to the mines simply for questioning her or for stating their opinion.

When they’d returned, seeing families reunited had brought on many happy tears. Watching Dean and Sam crush each other as they embraced for the first time in over a decade, had made her sob noisily into her handkerchief.

While the kingdom was being set to rights and the Warriors were returned to their former place of honor within the kingdom (some of the guardsmen who’d defended the castle so stoutly were taking the vow as Winchesters), it was easy to stay busy and distracted.

But as the celebration approached, and preparations fell into the capable hands of their craftsmen and artisans, Melissande found herself with a lot of time on her hands, and she began to contemplate what the future was going to look like for her and Dean.

She knew he’d only married her to keep her safe. So, now that she was, what would he do? He’d been reinstated as a First Line Warrior and had returned to his duties at the Winchester Keep. He was at the castle fairly frequently, helping the King set his defenses in order and shore up security around the kingdom since it had been allowed to become incredibly lax under a Queen who didn’t care about the people.

So, Melissande saw him fairly regularly, but they never spoke about their situation. It was always just polite conversation in which he addressed her formally as “Your Highness” or “Princess Melissande”. He never called her Mellie anymore and she missed the sound of it on his lips.

She also missed his lips, and his hands, and so many other parts of him. She missed the way she always felt so safe with him nearby, missed the way he teased her, or purposely tried to bait her. She just missed him, and she was starting to think that now that his duty was done, he was no longer interested in anything to do with her.

But she thought about him all the time. She thought a lot about the wedding night that they never really had; she dreamed about it too.

Then one day a messenger arrived with a package for her. She saw that it came from Dean and she ripped it open excitedly. But when she saw what was inside her heart stopped beating and then plummeted to her stomach.

Inside were papers that had already been drawn up by the church and signed by Dean, papers that officially annulled their marriage, and set them free of one another. Dean had included a note at the bottom that said simply:

Have your father sign these as well, and it will be official, and you’ll be rid of me at last.

Melissande heard the teasing in the written words, could easily imagine the way his green eyes would sparkle, and the way they would crinkle at the corners as he smiled.

Her heart was broken and she ran to talk to the one person she knew would listen and not judge her for loving a man who didn’t want her. She knelt at her mother’s grave, rearranging the old flowers around her new ones.

“I don’t know what to do, Mama. I just love him. He’s so brave and strong and true. I know that sounds like the words of a lovesick fool, and I suppose I am. But they’re also the truth. He’s so honorable and chivalrous and…oh, Mama he’s so handsome. I think about him all the time, about…well about him kissing me or…well I just think about him. His voice and his laugh and…”

Her tears streaked her cheeks. “But he’s dissolving the contract between us, making it as though it never was.”

She wiped her cheeks and sniffled. “I suppose it’s fair. He only married me to keep me safe and to do the noble thing. Now that I’m safe, the kind thing to do would be to let him out of his obligation.”

She took a shuddery breath. “Yes, it’s the honorable thing to do.”

***

Dean walked into the King’s private antechamber, expecting to be discussing training for the new Warriors, and how the Keeps would be updated to accommodate the new men and women. But as he entered, the King waved at a seat beside him, bidding him to sit down.

It was highly unusual. Generally he met with the King and a few members of his new Council. So being here alone was already strange, but also, Warriors stood during meetings, and they were certainly never invited by the King to sit beside him.

But not wishing to disobey his King, he perched on the edge of the seat and nodded at the sovereign awkwardly. “So, would you like me to list the supplies we’ll need to improve and expand the Keeps?”

But Yasa was shaking his head. “No, no. This isn’t a formal visit. I had some questions to ask you.”

Dean felt his heart beat a little faster. “Alright, Your Majesty. I’d be happy to try and answer them.”

The King was quiet for a moment before he turned inquisitive eyes on Dean. “Why did you marry my daughter?”

Dean felt his stomach twist into a knot. Why the hell was the King talking to him about this? He and Mellie had already explained how and why the wedding had taken place, and Yasa had seemed fine with it at the time, maybe even a little grateful for Dean’s help.

So, what had changed; why did he want to discuss this now? Was this because of the annulment papers? Were there things he needed clarified?

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, as we told you, Your Grace, at the time, not knowing the full plans of the First Queen, it seemed like…”

Dean trailed off as the King waved at him. “No, no. I know the official reason, I know you meant to keep her safe, and I’m very grateful for that. But I suppose I meant to ask, was that the only reason? Or…is there a way you could see yourself staying married to her now that she’s safe?”

“I’m afraid…” Dean cleared his throat again. “Sire, I’m afraid I don’t…I mean, I’m not sure what you’re asking. I…of course I never dreamed of keeping her shackled to a mere Warrior. She no longer requires the protection of my name or my sword, so as any good subject would do, I’m removing the obligation of our vows.”

Yasa nodded. “I see…so…you don’t love her?”

Dean’s heart began to beat triple time. “I’m…Your Grace…I don’t…my feelings don’t matter one way or another. I’m a Warrior, Melissande is a Princess, I have no right to feel any way towards her. I’m all too aware that I am not worthy of her hand.”

“Hmm…” The King stroked his chin and then reached over to pull some papers off the table beside him. Dean recognized the annulment papers, but on top of them was a letter in neat, slanting handwriting. The King held it up.

“This is a letter from Hera that she sent to me on Melissande’s eighteenth birthday. Of course, having been trapped in a dungeon, I only just got around to reading it. The letter talks about what an amazing woman Melissande has become, but then she goes on to talk about you.”

Dean frowned. “Me?”

Yasa smiled. “Yes, lad, you. She explains how you saved Melissande when she was just a little girl.” A shadow passed over his features. “Somehow that information never made it to me either, and I wasn’t in a dungeon then.” He sighed. “I have a lot to make amends for.”

He shook his head and continued. “In the letter, Hera says that when you saved her, she offered you Melissande’s hand when she came of age, but you said then too, that you were not worthy. But,” he lifted the letter, “she thought you were. In fact, she knew you were. And I would have to agree.”

Dean shook his head. “Your Majesty -”

Yasa cut him off. “You’ve now saved my daughter’s life twice. You saved me, and the kingdom.”

Dean scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stared at the floor. “With an awful lot of help from your daughter.”

The King smiled. “Yes, she was remarkable. But you fought to get to us and you stabbed that wicked witch through the heart so she could never again threaten our kingdom.” His voice became more impassioned. “Your father gave his life, and your brother gave his freedom in defense of our kingdom. Now, if that doesn’t label you as worthy, I don’t know what would.”

At a complete loss for words, Dean could only fidget on the chair and look anywhere but at his King.

Yasa’s voice was soft as he continued. “But worthy or not, I won’t let you be with her if you don't love her. She deserves all the tenderness that was denied to her and her mother because of Layo’ita…and me.”

Dean felt his mind cloud with visions of Mellie, the visions he fought against day and night - her laughter and its musicality, but also the way her eyes sparked when she was mad; her bravery and her vulnerability; the way she clung to him sometimes, and the way she bossed him around. He thought about the very real possibility the King was presenting to him - a life with Mellie at his side, maybe children in the future and a life lived with purpose and meaning.

He hardly believed it could be real. But he took a chance and spoke quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. “Yes, I love her. I love her very much.”

Dean actually jumped in his seat as the door burst open and Mellie thundered in. Her cheeks were flushed, and tears sparkled in her beautiful quicksilver eyes; her skin glowed slightly as the magic of her soul lit up her body.

“Really Winchester?” She said, swallowing harshly and trying to hide her beaming smile. “You told my father before you told me?”

Dean felt the King stand and walk towards the door, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Mellie to look. The King paused at her side and kissed the top of her head.

“Go easy on him, poppet. He really loves you.” He gave a soft smile and left, thrilled with this development and off to tell Hera all about it.

As he left the room, Mellie walked up to where Dean still sat in the chair. “So?” She said, tapping her foot against the wooden floors.

Dean felt his chest expand as it began to dawn on him that he really was married to this spitfire princess with her shifting silver eyes, and miracle of miracles, she seemed to love him back, which meant he got to stay married to her.

He smiled widely and his eyes were teasing as he reached up to grab her hand and yank her down onto his lap. She let out a small squeal as he spoke.

“And if I did speak to your father before you, wife? What of it? I am your husband after all, so you have to obey me.”

She elbowed him in the ribs and he exhaled sharply. “Oof.”

Mellie’s eyes glowed bright silver and Dean let his heart fill with awe as she spoke.

“Not likely, my Winchester Warrior. I am the Princess Melissande, pride of my mother Queen Hera, descendant of the fairy Queen Caryn’se, daughter of the Fae, and the honored child of King Yasa of Sanso’ye.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “I obey no one.”

Dean’s smile was soft as he brushed his lips softly against hers and cupped her cheek in his palm before conceding happily and running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Alright, my Mellie, I suppose the obedience part is negotiable.”

He kissed her as she laughed, and reveled in the sound, and in the way her body felt, pressed close to him.

He caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger and stared into her eyes. “Marry me, princess?”

She chuckled. “That part’s already done.” She gave him an impish grin. “But I’ll wed you all over again, happily, if you promise that this time, we get a wedding night.”

Dean’s eyes flared with heat and he kissed her long and deep, living for the sighs and whimpers that bubbled up from inside her. He pulled back when he was dizzy for air, and he was panting as he spoke.

“You know, sweetheart, technically we are already married, and I bet Rowena would let us stay a night in that big, beautiful bedroom of hers. If I offer her a big enough trade she might even take herself and Bernard away for the night.”

Mellie’s smile was blinding. “Send a messenger.”

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