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kissmyspaceace · 2 years ago

Note

Ghestie, first, I love you and your works and second, I got a lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’ as a fic suggestion or idea AND I PROMISE IT’S WHOLESOME (unlike my unhinged tags that you see shhh)

Ok but consider a tricycle date with Copia or a cemetery date with a Papa

THANK YOU that's so sweet aaaaaaaa ( ";A;)<3 *cracks knuckles* TRICYCLE DATE HERE WE COOOME! this took me a little while, sorry for the delay

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Three Wheels For Two

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader Contents/warnings: tricycle content, fluff, goofiness Word count: 2.029 AO3 link

You strut down the halls of the ministry with a sigh. Today was a total bore, you had already finished your assigned tasks for the day and looking around for more things to do had proven to be unsuccessful so far.

The laundry had been taken care of by four other sisters, the kitchen was clean, the pathways had been cleaned and the floors had been swiped. Sister Imperator had not needed your help any more for that day, either. You decided to stroll through the halls in hopes to find something to do, and in case you wouldn’t, you'd just go to the library to study. You didn't feel like studying, really - your head was still smoking from yesterday's Latin recitals with Papa Secundo.

You turned another corner, lost in thoughts, when you suddenly heard a loud crashing noise from somewhere behind you. It seemed to have come from near the chapel. You hurried to the next corner, and planned on looking for the origin of the noise. The voices you heard then caused you to stop.

"Sorry about that, Papa", you heard a familiar voice speak.

"The ministry is not your playground, Cardinal!", an older voice scolded.

"Right, right."

Squeaky noises followed, and around the corner came Cardinal Copia on a small tricycle.

He did not expect you to stand where you did. He most likely did not expect you to be there, at all. Neither did you expect him to move at the speed he did.

His eyes widened as he realized that impact was inevitable, and he internally braced himself for the uncomfortable conversation to follow.

Attempting to step out of the way in a last effort, your robe got caught in the tricycle anyways, also hitting your legs in the process - sending you to the ground with a harsh landing.

The Cardinal stopped abruptly and in an exceptionally clumsy fashion, since the tricycle did not appear to have properly working brakes, and climbed off to scurry over to you.

"Oh Satanas! Eh, I- I am so sorry. Oh no, oh no", he babbled in a panic, "Are, eh, are you hurt? I'm really sorry."

You pushed yourself up. Your shins told you that you'd be expecting some bruises, but other than that you felt fine. Cardinal Copia kneeled down next to you, putting one hand on your shoulder, examining you. "Sorella, I did not expect to meet you here. Are you alright?"

You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation. "Cardinal, please don't worry. I'm okay. I apologize for startling you", you replied, attempting to get up.

"Ah, eh, let me help you, please", he said, putting an arm around you and taking your hand in his, gently guiding you back onto your feet.

"Thank you, Cardinal."

A small blush crept up on your cheeks. You'd worked with him countless times before, even shared some nice private conversations with him here and there. Aside from the occasional handshake or fistbump, there had never been any physical contact between the two of you, however. You adored him, you couldn’t deny it. He was an interesting man, a little awkward in the way she spoke and presented himself - but that was just part of his charm.

"Not for that, cara", he shook his head, "I should be thanking you for not ripping my head clean off!"

"Oh, why should I do that? I believe it was an accident."

He nervously fumbled with his gloves. "Yes of course, but… eh, I messed up nonetheless, no?"

You laughed and shook your head. "No harm done."

"I do feel bad, sorella. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? Help a man silence his guilt, cara. Please", he pleaded, taking your hands in his.

You furrowed your brows, thinking. This may not be that much of a bad idea.

Perhaps he could help you find a solution to your boredom, and end your journey of wandering through the halls aimlessly. Your eyes wandered over to the tricycle, and a smile crept up on your lips.

"Cardinal, I think I know of something. Tell me, can two people fit on this thing?"

Several moments later, you and the Cardinal both somehow found a spot on his tricycle to fit in - he was on the seat as usual, and you were standing on a little ledge between the back wheels, holding onto him by his shoulders.

"Eh, are you sure about this?", he asked hesitantly, turning his head a little.

"Yeah! Absolutely! Go, go, go!"

You squeezed his shoulders in excitement, and he smiled. "Alright then, cara. Hold on and don't fall."

With that, he started pushing forward. Soon, you felt a slight breeze on your face as you were zooming through the corridors of the ministry. At the first turn around a corner, you nearly lost balance, causing you to wrap your arms around the Cardinal for more support.

You didn’t notice but a blush crept up on his cheeks at the sudden closeness. He felt your chest pressed against his upper back, and your breath in his hair. Your excited giggles were the only thing he could hear right then, like music to his ears. Like a sweet melody for him and only him.

He absentmindedly picked up speed and it turned out this would be what would eventually be the cause of his third accident of the day, as the two of you turned a corner a little too quickly and lost balance, sending both of you tumbling to the ground with a loud crash. You took a small shelf down with you, while Cardinal Copia sent a pile of folders and papers to the floor with his shoulder.

The noise of the impact and its aftermath echoed through the ministry. The two of you were busy collecting yourselves off of the stone floor, when you heard an angry voice rumble through the halls:

"What was that?!"

The Cardinal and you exchanged a wide-eyed gaze and froze in shock for a second. The voice sounded very much like Papa Secondo. And nobody in the whole ministry would want to encounter an enraged Secondo. It was a commonly known displeasure amongst members of the clergy.

No words were needed to remind one another of what the two of you might face if you wouldn’t be able to get away in time. In the distance, you could already hear quick, heavy footsteps growing closer.

In near perfect synchronization, both of you hurried onto your feet and jumped back onto the tricycle. Copia took off with all his might, now acutely focused on making it as far away as possible from the chaos you had caused. Luckily, the high speed seemed to minimize the squeaking noises of the tricycle, allowing the two of you to disappear into the many halls of the building, into the main hall and outside onto the ministry grounds, making a sharp turn into the gardens. Stopping in front of large bushes, the Cardinal motioned you to get off. In a swift move, he grabbed the tricycle with one, and you with his other hand, dragging you behind the bushes. There the two of you sat for a while, panting. Hiding from a possibly very pissed off Secondo. At this point you didn’t even know whether he had even chased you. You didn’t know if he was onto you or not. Maybe he hadn’t even gotten the chance to chase you. You were able to peek through a few leaves, getting a view on the large door you’d previously escaped out of. As it opened with a loud bang, you flinched. In the doorway stood Papa Secondo, scanning the area. Holding your breath, you turned your head, hoping he wouldn’t see you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that Copia was holding his breath as well, visibly distressed.

After a long moment, however, Secondo let out a frustrated snarl, shook his head and went back inside. Even after the door had closed, nobody dared to move a muscle. Not until you were absolutely sure he couldn’t see you anymore. A minute or so went by, when you heard the Cardinal whisper: “I think we’re safe now, sorella.”

You carefully nodded in response.

He exhaled deeply and let himself fall backwards onto the grass. “What a ride. I surely won’t need another one of those”, he mumbled, laying on his back.

You playfully pouted at him. “Aw, are you sure? It was so much fun though!”

“Are you out of your mind? Nearly getting beheaded by Papa Secondo is, eh, not what I would call fun, cara”, he chuckled.

Crawling over to him, you grinned mischievously. You sat down directly next to him, the side of your thigh touching his arm. “Well, okay, that part was a little scary. But riding the tricycle together was pretty fun, wasn’t it?”

A smile crept up on his face. “The most I’ve had in a while, yes. Thank you for that, cara.”

“See? There you go!”, you laughed, giving his shoulder a small bump.

Cardinal Copia looked at you with the softest gaze you had ever seen. His eyes shimmered as the light of day was slowly disappearing with the setting sun. You gave him a warm smile in return.

He lifted himself up into a sitting position and turned to face you. Only then you realized how close you were to him. Mere centimeters divided the two of you at this point.

"Sorella", he breathed, bringing a hand up to your cheek, "I've been meaning to tell you something, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so."

"What is it?"

Your heart started pounding, as you awaited his response with excitement.

"You make me feel happy. Even just seeing your face for a moment when we encounter each other briefly in the corridors during our daily business makes my heart soar. I don't think anyone has ever made me feel like this", he confessed, struggling to keep eye contact. "And I just feel like I must tell you that I enjoy your company, cara. I really do. I, eh, I like you. A lot."

The corners of your mouth twitched upwards. You struggled to keep yourself from grinning like an idiot. "Well, I really enjoy your company too, Cardinal. I'm glad you feel the same."

He smiled bashfully. "I did not expect you to request what you did when I asked you how I can make it up to you. You know, eh, after our little… accident. I was somehow hoping for something else. But now, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way."

A small giggle escaped you. "That's lovely. But do tell me, what did you hope for exactly?", you asked, inching a little closer.

He got visibly flustered by your question. "I, eh… well, I hoped… hm. I would rather not tell you right now. Maybe some other time."

"Fine, then. Keep your secrets", you answered with a wink.

A deep chuckle escaped his throat. "Ah, cara. You're so sweet, I could kiss you right now."

Then go ahead and do it, you thought.

Your eyes spoke to him before your tongue did. A brief exchange of gazes told him all he needed to know, and he closed the gap between you, gently placing his lips on yours.

Butterflies fluttered in your chest as you tenderly wrapped your arms around him. The kiss felt like it lasted a whole eternity, and at the same time it was over way too soon for your liking. You broke the kiss, exchanging a loving gaze. The Cardinal’s mismatched irises bore holes into your soul, as he gently stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.

“My love, would you like to go for another ride on my tricycle again, sometime? I think I could imagine this becoming part of my daily routines.”

“That can be arranged, I think”, you replied with a mischievous smile.

“Good”, Copia hummed, giving you another small peck on the lips, “I expect you to meet me in the halls tomorrow afternoon. Don’t be late. And maybe, bring a helmet.”

#cardinal copia x reader #ghost x reader #reader insert #cardinal copia #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia x reader #cardi c #ghost band #the band ghost fanfic #cardinal copia x reader oneshot #oneshot #my fanfics

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thoughts-of-a-bibleophile · 4 years ago

Text

confessions under the moonlight

hey. so...it’s the last day of HCS week and i’m finally posting my first fic for day 1. life just really didn’t want me to participate this week aaaaaaaa

the good news is i have three fics basically done already that i just need to reread and look over, so those should be coming either tonight or tomorrow fingers crossed?

this is for full moon! it’s definitely still rough, so sorry in advance, but i want to post something before this week’s over, so i hope you enjoy!

one day i’ll put these fics on ao3.... as soon as i figure out how to use ao3....

summary: may invites steven over to her house for tsukimi (the japanese moon festival). baking and shenanigans ensue.

The sky was clear and blue, the air crisp and the wind sharp in a way unique to only autumn. Rustboro was one of those cities that changed colors with the seasons: Currently, the trees were either yellow or totally barren, leaves scattered along every sidewalk.

Under the eaves of the Kalossian restaurant in a tucked away corner of the city, two trainers sat outside for their weekly lunch. Neither of them knew when weekly lunches had become a regular occurrence, but neither of them were willing to put a stop to them either. So every Tuesday at noon, they met here, partially because Steven only had an hour lunch and couldn’t travel too far from Devon, and partially because May had become quite fond of the little bistro they always frequented.

As they were discussing their plans for the next week over coffee, the late autumn wind ruffling their hair and shifting the curls of steam wafting from their drinks, she mentioned it offhand.

“What are you going to be doing for tsukimi?”

Steven dropped the roll he was holding back on his plate, processing the question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you and your dad going to be hosting some sort of party? Or are you going to be keeping it between the two of you?”

He blinked. “My father’s going to be out of town on a business trip, but... Why would we have a party? It’s just another Thursday, isn’t it?”

May furrowed her brow. “Wait. Have you never celebrated?”

“I mean, I suppose I went to a festival when I was younger-?”

“You never had the little dumplings? You never had to eat that weird grass?”

“Grass? Why are you eating grass-?”

“Oh Arceus, that explains so much,” she said, more to herself than him.

“What does that mean?” he said, a touch indignant.

She ignored him. “Come to my house on Thursday. You need to experience a tsukimi, Littleroot-style.”

“I don’t need to experience it, May,” he replied. “And I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you or your family on such late notice-“

“Are you kidding? My mom is always of the opinion ‘the more, the merrier.’ And she’s been asking me to bring you over to meet her anyway-“

“She wants to meet me?” Steven asked, bemused. Did he do something to offend her somehow?

“It’s not important,” May said quickly. “She just wants to meet, uh, the previous champion and all that, you know.”

He wanted to counter that he had been at her Champion coronation and easily could have met her then, but May switched back to the original conversation before he could say anything.

“Anyway, she has the best dango recipe, which you have to try! She’ll ruin you for all other celebrations.”

“Are you sure it won’t be an issue for your family?”

“No, not at all. Really.”

It wasn’t like he really had anything else to do that night besides paperwork for Devon and it was always nice to spend time with May, he reasoned.

“Alright, it’s a date.”

At 4 p.m. on Thursday, Steven stood outside May’s house with a bottle of sake in one hand, the other hesitantly raised up to knock.

The other day, it had been easy to say yes to today, but now that he was here, he felt nervous for whatever reason. Perhaps it was because he wanted to make a good impression? May had said that her mother wanted to talk to him, so maybe he had already squandered that first impression, so tonight he would have to make up for it, somehow. It would be easier to do that if he knew what he had messed up in the first place though.

He shook away his anxious thoughts, realizing he had been standing outside a few minutes longer than necessary, all because he was lost in his thoughts, as usual.

Steven took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever was to come, and knocked twice.

No answer.

He frowned, wondering if maybe he hadn’t knocked loud enough. He tried again, a little firmer this time.

Again, no answer.

He... was at the right house, wasn’t he?

One glance at the name plate said that he was at the Hawthorn residence, so he hadn’t messed that up. Did he somehow show up at the wrong time?

“Hello?” he called to the closed front door. Was he supposed to meet somewhere else-?

“Steven!”

His head turned at the sound of May’s voice. She was at the house across the street from where he stood, waving at him.

“I should’ve told you, but things got so crazy- We’re actually going to be celebrating here! Come on over!”

Suddenly Steven felt foolish for knocking on her door for Arceus knows how long. As he walked toward her, he prayed she hadn’t been watching him be an idiot for the last few minutes.

She wore a bandana as usual, keeping her bangs back from her face, as well as a cute red apron that he noticed had a little torchic embroidered on one of the pockets. It was both incredibly different from what she normally wore, but somehow so very May that he couldn’t help but smile.

She was nearly bouncing in place as he approached. Then her eyes noticed the bottle in his hand.

“You didn’t have to bring a gift, you dork,” she said, elbowing him in the side.

“I just thought it would make for a good first impression,” he said, shrugging.

May rolled her eyes. “You worry too much. She’ll love you.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him in. “Let’s go!”

Half-stumbling through the door, it took him a moment to take in the room before him.

To the left, the living room blended into the dining room, covered in moon-related decorations. There was an open archway at the back with voices coming from it that he could only assume was the kitchen. To the right, there was a set of stairs with a string of azumarill lanterns hung along the banister, a door that looked to lead outside at the very end of the hall.

A few people he recognized from Professor Birch’s lab were hanging up more lanterns along the wall as well as other decorations he wasn’t sure of the names of while the few kids that were there folded origami in the living room.

Some looked up at their arrival, casting them - or more likely, him - confused looks that quickly morphed into some form of recognition.

May ignored them all, though, and marched him straight into the kitchen, despite the gaggle of people standing in their way.

“Mom, Steven’s here!” she announced to the three people flitting about in the kitchen.

One woman, her brown hair matching May’s exactly, looked up from where she was stirring what looked to be noodles in a large pot.

“Oh, it’s about time!” She placed her cooking chopsticks to the side and rushed over to them. He was about to hold out a hand to shake before she embraced him in a hug tight enough to squeeze the life out of him.

“Mom, please don’t kill him,” May said from his side, sounding exasperated.

Mrs. Hawthorn released him and he let out a small gasp of relief. “I’m so sorry, Steven; I just get a little overexcited with my hugs, you see. I’m a bit like a mama Ursaring at times.” She laughed. “Oh and you’ve brought sake as well; you’re so sweet! I’ve really been so looking forward to meeting you after everything May’s told us about you-“

“You’ve talked about me?” Steven asked May, glancing at her.

“Only good things, don’t worry,” May said with a laugh.

“I’ve only heard the best things about you, Steven, honestly, you should hear some of the things she says about you-“

“Ooookay Mom,” May cut in quickly. “I’m sure you guys can talk about that later when I’m not here.”

May’s mother gave her daughter a look that Steven couldn’t interpret, then turned back to him, beaming. “We’ll just have to catch up later.” She took the bottle from him. “Please make yourself at home.”

He had a feeling that something had transpired that he wasn’t privy to, but he didn’t think now was the time to ask about it.

May pulled him away before he could say as much, saying, “Sorry about her. She can be...a lot.”

Steven thought about his own father, with his tendency to ramble and his over exuberant personality, and only nodded in understanding. “No, she was great, honestly. Where are we going now-?”

“Steven Stone?”

They both turned to the person addressing him. Professor Birch‘s son - Brendan, if Steven remembered correctly. He took in the two of them, eyes darting between them, to May’s hand on his arm, and then back to their faces.

“Didn’t realize you would be here.”

“May invited me,” Steven replied, not entirely sure why he felt like he was being analyzed.

“Did she?” Brendan asked, smiling in a way that could Steven could only describe as mischievous, his eyes meeting May’s in another look that Steven couldn’t figure out.

“Yes, Brendan, I did, and we’re going to go help my dad decorate now, aren’t we, Steven?”

Before Steven could say anything, May turned them away from the living room and toward the stairwell. He felt like he was missing something here, but he had a feeling if he asked no one would tell him what it was.

The Petalburg Gym Leader and May’s father, Norman, was talking to Professor Birch by the back door by the stairs, a handful of foldable chairs against the wall as well as a coil of lights.

“Hey Professor, hey Dad. I’ve brought you guys a helper,” May said.

They both looked up at the two, Professor Birch with a smile, Norman with ... a much less friendly expression. All of the nerves that had begun to ease after meeting May’s mother immediately swarmed back at the frosty reception. Did Steven mess up his first impression with her father somehow as well? What had he done? He couldn’t think of any animosity between them when he had been Champion, but surely something had happened.

“Steven Stone,” Norman Hawthorn said with a curt nod. “I hope your father is doing well.”

“Thank you. He’s actually in Johto right now on business.”

“Well, please tell him hello from me when you see him next.”

“Of course. I’m sure he would be pleased to hear from you.”

Professor Birch, on the other hand, was quite excited to see him and cut in before the conversation could get more awkward.

“Steven, it’s been so long! How’s your team doing? How’s that little Beldum you hatched?”

“It’s doing well, Professor. Thank you again for watching after him while I was away.”

“Oh, it was no trouble; he was a delight! I’m glad you’re here! We can use all the help we can get!”

“What ... exactly are we doing?”

“We’re setting up everything outside.” Professor Birch nodded at the stacks of chairs beside them. “That’s the best part of the celebration: It’s all about appreciating nature and what better way to do that than outside with food cooked from the garden we’ve cultivated here in Littleroot?”

“What can I do to help?”

“Help set up the lights in the back before it gets dark. Vigoroth will take care of the chairs,” Norman said, pulling out a Pokéball.

“I’ll head outside to grab the ladders,” May said, already halfway out the door.

“May, I need you in here!” her mother called from the kitchen. May groaned.

“Never mind, I guess,” she grumbled. As she passed him to move to the kitchen, she gave him a half-smile. “I’ll catch up with you later?”

“I’ll be here,” he said, smiling back.

“May!” her mother called again. May rolled her eyes at him before heading to the kitchen. Steven watched her go, only to feel a coil of lights shoved into his arms a moment later. He glanced back to see Norman giving him that frosty look again and Steven cleared his throat, feeling the nerves even more than before.

“Lights, right. Let’s get started then.”

Two long tables sat out in the backyard under rows of string lights as the sun set. The sky was ablaze in streaks of orange and peach, the sun turning the trees to gold and everyone outside into long shadows. Steven had thought he had gotten over being impressed by sunsets after his years of traveling, but he had to admit that Littleroot had some gorgeous ones.

As they had set things up, Professor Birch told him that it was primarily the Birches and Hawthorns tonight, as well as a few lab aids and their kids who hadn’t had family to go to for the holidays. Ever since the Hawthorns had moved to Littleroot, they had tried to make it a tradition to hold a big celebration like this, with Professor Birch’s wife taking the lead on dinner while May’s mother handled decorations. Though they had been doing this for so long that they didn’t need directions nearly as much as before, so she normally handled desserts with May.

Once the lights were hung, Professor Birch sent Steven over to help set the table. Brendan was already there, so Steven started at the opposite side.

“Did May’s dad scare you off yet?” Brendan asked after a bit of silence between them.

Steven looked up in confusion. “What?”

“I’m just kidding, dude, don’t worry.” Brendan raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you know how this looks, right?”

Steven’s brow furrowed.

“Oh dear Mew,” Brendan muttered with a sigh. “You’re the first person she’s brought home since she moved to Hoenn and, short of bringing you for Christmas, tonight’s a pretty big deal for her family?”

“She just told me I had to come to try the dango,” Steven said lamely.

Brendan groaned. “Steven, with all due respect, as much as I know you like rocks, I didn’t think you would be as dumb as one.”

“Excuse me?”

“It looks like you’re dating,” Brendan exclaimed, sounding exasperated. “You know, you and May? In a relationship?”

It suddenly felt way too warm for a late autumn night. May and him? Dating? That was ridiculous; she had said so herself that her mother had wanted to meet him and she wanted him to try some sweets. Sure, he admired her in a dozen and a half ways and thought she was incredibly strong, kind, passionate- And he was getting off track. None of those meant that he wanted to date her or that any feelings he may or may not have were reciprocated.

“Th-That’s not what this is,” Steven managed, trying to not sound as confused as he felt. “She just wanted me to actually go to a tsukimi celebration and introduce me to her mother-“

Brendan gave him a look that could only be read as “really?”

“As far as I’m aware,” Steven tried instead. “We are not dating.”

“It sure looks like it, dude,” Brendan said with a snort. “Her mom and dad think so, at least.”

They were done setting the table, but Steven’s mind was replaying several scenes over in his head from the last few months. They definitely could have been seen as dates and that... explained a lot in hindsight, he thought.

Before he could ask Brendan anything else, Mrs. Hawthorne and May came out with a handful of dishes. Behind them, Professor Birch carried a giant pot with what smelled like curry in it. Once they were placed onto the second table, Professor Birch called, “Dinner’s served!”

May caught his eye across the way and he felt himself smile and raised his hand in a wave. Behind him, Brendan groaned. “Hopeless, the both of you.”

Steven found himself sitting next to May, much to Mrs. Hawthorn’s insistence, and across from Brendan, who kept smirking at both of them.

May ignored him, instead talking to her mother on her right or Steven on her left. Dinner was delicious, but Steven was barely able to focus on that or on the conversations May tried to start, his mind circling back to his earlier talk with Brendan.

It certainly explained why his father always seemed to be asking about May and telling him to bring her for dinner sometime. It also explained why Wallace had asked what was going on with them At the time, Steven had said nothing because he hadn’t thought anything was going on. But clearly something was, whether either of them knew it or not.

“Steven?” He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see May looking concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Suddenly every touch and look from her felt so much more real and Steven recoiled on instinct, only to feel even worse when her brow furrowed at his movement.

“Everything is fine here,” he said, his voice sounding strangely cheery even to his own ears. “Is everything fine with you?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good.” She frowned. “Did you end up drinking some of that sake? You’re acting kind of weird.”

“What do you mean? I’m acting perfectly normal right now.”

May just stared at him for a moment, searching his face as if she would find an answer to his strange behavior, but then shrugged. “Okay, but if you need to go home early, just let me know. We won’t be upset-“

“No, no!” he interrupted. He was making a much bigger deal of this than he needed to and probably worrying her when she already had so much to think about. What was wrong with him? “I’m fine, really, I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She looked at him for another moment, then nodded, smiling slightly. “Okay, I believe you. But seriously, I won’t be mad if you don’t feel well or need to leave early.”

“Okay,” he said. Brendan caught his eye and mouthed “smooth” and Steven wished the ground would just swallow him up instead of letting him continue to make a fool of himself.

Things had gotten easier after dinner: Professor Birch has engaged him in a long discussion on evolution and May’s mother had asked him to help start the fire in the pit they had moved their chairs around. Despite the string lights and the fire, the moon was bright overhead, shining like a silver coin with a scattering of stars around it.

An hour or so after dinner, May had caught up with him and pulled him back into the kitchen. He resisted the urge to pull against her. Because, really, he did want to spend more time with her, but he also didn’t know how to act around her now that he knew what it looked like. Did she know that they looked like a couple? Did she... like it? Did she want to be one?

His head was full of so many what-ifs and questions for her and himself that he didn’t do anything but smile politely as they walked into the kitchen with Mrs. Hawthorn.

“Wait, what are we doing now?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t actually learned why he was there in the first place.

“We’re making dango, of course.” At his confused look, she rolled her eyes. “What, you thought we just bought them pre-made at the store? My mom would kill me if we served store-bought dango.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, May,” Mrs. Hawthorn sighed. “They’re just so much better when you make them by hand, of course.”

“I’ve never made them before-“ Steven started, but Mrs. Hawthorn simply patted his arm.

“Don’t worry, it’s easy! May’s made them for years now, so she can show you the ropes.”

“It’s really not that hard,” May assured him. “If I can do it, you definitely can.”

“Well, I’ll check on you two in a bit,” Mrs. Hawthorn said with another one of those looks at May that he now had a feeling meant she wanted to give them some alone time.

He glanced at her, wondering if he should ask about everything now, but she was instead holding an apron out to him: blue with a little aron embroidered in the pocket, just like hers.

Steven laughed at the sight and May scowled. “What?”

“No, nothing,” he assured her, grinning. “This just reminds me of something my dad would’ve gotten me as a kid. I had so much aron stuff, but I don’t think he ever got me an apron.”

“Well now you can add an apron to your collection,” May said. After he put it on, she grinned. “I’m glad it fits.”

“Wait, did you get this for me specifically?”

“I- Well,” she started, looking away from him and fiddling with the straps of her apron. “We only have two aprons here and they’re already being used by me and my mom, and I knew you would need one, and then I saw that one the other day and I thought it would be cute on you, so... I got it.”

Steven felt his face warm, but just because the oven was likely on and not because he was thinking about her calling him cute-

“Um, thank you,” he tried, hoping he didn’t sound as awkward as he felt. “I appreciate the thought- about the apron, I mean. It’s great, really.” Nope, definitely sounded as awkward as he felt.

“Of course,” she said, still not looking at him. “So, um, let’s start, shall we?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak lest he make more of an idiot of himself than he already had tonight.

Theoretically, it wasn’t a difficult recipe: 3 and a half ounces of rice flour, 2/3 of a cup of water; combine the flour and water; mix until it becomes a dough, then form the dumplings.

He primarily fetched ingredients for her, watching her work and mentally taking notes on how it all worked. He wasn’t sure what he was going to use this knowledge for in the future, but he still took notes regardless.

“How long have you made these?” he asked as she stirred in the flour.

“Ever since I can remember, honestly,” she replied. “Even when I was little, I remember my mom sitting me on the counter and asking me to help make the dango into balls, all the while telling me the story of the azumarill on the moon.”

“The azumarill on the moon?” he asked as he watched the last part of the flour fold into the dough.

“You don’t know the story?” May asked. When he shook his head, she simply shrugged. “It’s just a kids story, but I always liked it.”

“Could you tell me it?”

“Do you really want to hear it?” she asked, skeptical.

“I do. Would you?”

There was a moment of silence and Steven wondered if she would decide against it. He then wondered if he had somehow overstepped some boundary that he wasn’t aware of, but after another minute, she began.

“The story goes that there was a hungry old man who asked a vulpix, an aipom and an azumarill for some food.”

She mixed the dough with ease, like she had been making this for ages, which, he supposed she had. The faintest smile was on her face as she spoke and he tried to imagine her as a little girl, wearing an apron just like this, eyes wide as she heard this story for the first time.

“The aipom used his tail to get berries, the vulpix caught him some fish, but the rabbit only had grass to offer,” she continued. “So the azumarill built a fire and then jumped in, offering himself as food for the old man.”

Steven frowned. “This is a kids story?”

“Hey, I swear it has a happy ending,” she insisted with a laugh. “The old man revealed himself to be the moon god and, grateful for what the azumarill had done, saved him from the fire and thanked him. Then the moon god brought the azumarill to live with him on the moon. Legend has it, he’s still up there, making mochi for himself and the moon god. And speaking of-“

May pulled the dough from the bowl and onto the counter with a thump. Steven jumped slightly, too caught up in the story to notice that the dough was finished.

“So I’ll roll this out and divide it into 16 pieces, then we’ll make them into little balls,” she explained.

It was quiet for a moment as she worked the dough, both of them lost in their thoughts. Steven’s had settled considerably - perhaps it had been the repetition of making dumplings that had helped his mind stop running in a million circles.

“It was just a dumb kids story,” she said. “Sorry if I bored you.”

“No, no, that wasn’t it,” he replied. “Sorry, I was just thinking. I liked it, really.”

“I just- I thought it was pretty amazing that the azumarill did so much for someone he didn’t know, y’know?”

Steven was quiet, but May continued. “And then to live on the moon and have mochi for the rest of my life? Sounded like a good deal to me.”

He laughed and after a second, she did, too, and it seemed to break the awkwardness that had been lingering since they began baking. He didn’t know why he had been so nervous before. Even if they looked like a couple and people thought they were, it was nothing a little explanation couldn’t fix. The important thing was that he and May were still friends and that she would still be there for him at the end of the day; that was all that mattered.

“I know I asked earlier, but are you okay, really?” May glanced over at him, worry still in her eyes.

He sighed and leaned against the counter as she divided the dough into sixteen pieces.

“I am. I’m sorry for acting so strange earlier. I was just stuck in my head. We’re okay.”

“Okay, good,” she said, smiling, and he felt himself warm at seeing it. He had felt that before, but he had always just brushed it off as admiration and friendship before. But now he was starting to rethink it all.

“Alright, we’ll each do eight,” May instructed. She picked one of the dough pieces up and began to roll it. “Just fold the piece into itself and roll it between your hands until it’s a smooth ball like this.” She showed him a near perfect sphere, then placed it on the baking tray.

It was simple, really, but some inner perfectionist made him want the spheres to be as perfect as possible, which made him significantly slower than her. When she had finished her batch and he was only halfway through his, she laughed.

“They don’t have to be perfect, Steven. They’re going to be eaten either way.”

“I know,” he said, despite still rolling the ball in his hand because it was a little bigger than the other three.

May grabbed his hands in hers to stop him. He glanced up from his hands to her. She smiled and he could see the amusement in her eyes.

“They’re already great, Steven, really.” She took the dough ball and exchanged it for another slice.

“How’s it going, kids?” Mrs. Hawthorn said, popping her head in the doorway.

“Almost done, Mom!” May said.

Mrs. Hawthorn walked toward them to look over their work.

“Great job, Steven! I would never have thought this was your first time doing this.”

“Well, May did all of the work,” he said.

“No, I couldn’t have done it without you,” she insisted.

“I just handed you ingredients-“

“Yes, but you’ve already made almost half of the dango yourself.”

“Well, however much work you did, you did very well, dear,” Mrs. Hawthorn said with a warm smile. “I’ll let the others know that you’re almost done.”

They thanked her and went back to finishing the last two slices.

Once they finished, May dropped them into boiling water and cleaned up their space as the dumplings cooked.

“Okay, so it wasn’t just me being in my head,” he admitted as they put away the rice flour. “I talked to Brendan earlier and-“

“Oh Mew, what did Brendan say?” she asked with a laugh.

“He- Honestly, it’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

May turned her full attention to him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What did he say?”

Steven brushed a hand through his hair, wondering why he even brought this up in the first place when they had just dissolved the tension they had had. How did he even explain this without making things awkward again?

“He, er, said that it looks like you brought me home as... your date.”

The bubbling of the water was the only sound between them for far too long. May’s face was red now and she very pointedly looked away from him. Steven’s own face was warm and he knew better than to think it was the steam from the dumplings.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because I’m here or feel that you’re forced into doing anything or acting in a certain way. I genuinely thought I was just coming over to make these,” Steven gestured to the pot. “I just- don’t want things to get weird between us, if that’s not what you intended.” His voice quieted at the tail end of the sentence, wondering if she had heard him and, if so, if she would explain to him what she did intend.

She still wouldn’t look at him, though, instead stirring the dough balls and fishing out the ones that were apparently done cooking.

“I just want to know what’s happening right now, May,” he said. “Regardless of what happens tonight, nothing will change. At least not for me.”

She let out a long exhale, then glanced over at him.

“I- I really did want you to just experience a Littleroot tsukimi and enjoy yourself,” she started. “I... know what a lot of people have said about us and how this looks, but I know we’re not ... that.“

The question was at the tip of his tongue, but he held it back, waiting as she spoke again.

“I know we’re not and I’m sorry if tonight made you feel uncomfortable or if Brendan or my dad said something that freaked you out. They’re honestly the worst and I can’t believe they would interrogate you tonight-“

Steven touched her shoulder and, like he had earlier, she shied away. His hand held empty air and he was surprised at how much such a small reaction hurt.

“It wasn’t them, May. Sure, Brendan explained things, but he just told me what I probably should’ve known about a while ago. Your dad didn’t say anything. It’s just me. I just want to know ... how you feel. About us.”

He felt foolish for not being able to say it. They were adults for crying out loud; why was it so difficult to ask if she wanted something more, if she did actually want to date him?

You know why, a voice whispered in his mind, all of his flaws and insecurities coming to the forefront of his mind. Flighty even in the best of times, inexperienced in far too many things, travels too much for any steady relationship, hyper focuses on far too many weird hobbies-

May didn’t get to answer, though, because Mrs. Hawthorn popped back into the kitchen just then, her eyes lighting up when she saw the finished dango.

“Right on time! I’ll just take these outside.” She grabbed the baking tray and began walking out. She looked over her shoulder, nodding at them. “And that means you kids too!”

Steven followed her outside, May behind him. He felt less like he was walking somewhere and more that his body was moving for him. There was still so much unsaid between them; would they ever actually have a chance to talk it?

He felt a hand on his wrist pull him back. He looked back at her, but she was very much not looking at him.

“Mom, we’ll be there in a sec,” May said, sounding a lot more normal than he felt right now.

Mrs. Hawthorn smiled mischievously at them. “Don’t take too long, you two!”

Steven shifted from foot to foot once they were alone, just imagining the things she could be thinking about.

It was quiet for far too long between them and he hated it. He wanted to do something, anything, to break it, to go back to the joking and laughing from before. He never should have said anything to begin with; maybe then things wouldn’t be as bad as they are now-

“This is not at all how I thought this was going to go,” May said, startling him from his thoughts. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to go through with this, but I guess now is as good a time as any other.” She took a deep breath, then another. Steven couldn’t breathe.

“I like you. A lot. Like, more than I ever thought I would like someone.” Everything around him froze at her words. Time slowed, yet his heart rate and breathing sped up even further, feeling like an azumarill tapping its foot against his chest.

She was looking at everything but him, her arms crossed tightly in front of her and her face still so red it almost matched her bandana. It was ridiculously cute.

“If you don’t feel the same way, I completely understand and I won’t bring this up ever again, but... I just needed you to know, especially after everything that happened tonight.”

“May-“ He stepped toward her.

“No, no, I also want to say that if you don’t want to be friends or talk anymore after this, I understand that, too, I just-“

“May,” he said again.

“What?!” she exclaimed, finally looking at him. She looked upset, more upset than he’d ever seen her, and he felt horrible for being the reason for it.

A hundred things popped up in his mind to say, things he had heard were romantic or gallant, but all he could muster was a quiet, “I like you, too.”

“As a friend, though, right?”

“No! I mean, yes, of course as a friend, but also as more than that, as more than a friend,” he stammered out. He wanted to hug her and do something to make her feel better, but his hands just fluttered uselessly above her shoulders.

“I- I’ve always admired you; I’ve been in awe of your strength and skill in everything you do since I first met you,” he tried to explain. “I always thought that was all that it was: admiration. But, something changed. I don’t know if it was tonight or if it was on one of our lunch dates that I never realized until now were dates or if it was when you stepped out of the Cave of Origin like a living legend and I realized I was so grateful I hadn’t lost you.” He was rambling, oh Mew, he was rambling; how did people do this?

“I care about you, May,” he said, feeling like something in him had lightened by telling her despite the anxiety he felt for even saying the words. “And whether that’s as a partner or just as a mentor or as a friend, I want to be there for you.”

She still looked at him in almost... disbelief. “You, Steven Stone, like me?”

He smiled, hoping it would quell the doubt in her eyes. “I, Steven Stone, like you, May Hawthorn.”

“Okay,” she said with a breathy exhale that could have almost been a laugh. “Okay.”

Before he could think about what to do next, she flung herself into his arms with a real laugh this time, the one he heard almost daily over the phone and over food, the one that made him want to be the one to make her laugh like that again and again.

They just stood there for a moment and it felt like the puzzle pieces that had broken apart between them earlier that night were fitting themselves back together again.

May pulled back slightly, looking slightly sheepish, though her eyes shone brightly in the moonlight.

“So I know we definitely did this out of order, but do you want to go on a date with me?”

Steven laughed. “After all the apparent dates we’ve been on already?”

May rolled her eyes. “The other ones didn’t count because we didn’t even know they were dates.”

“We definitely did this out of order,” he said.

“Well, now we can do everything in order and do all the cheesy first date things, right?” She bit her lip as she looked up at him, as if she was trying to keep from smiling too wide.

“Right,” he agreed, his mind already thinking of all the things he wanted to do together, all the things he wanted to give her. “Does tonight count?”

She looked above them and the moonlight sparkled in her eyes. He couldn’t look away.

“Dinner under a full moon - not bad,” she said. “But I think we can do better.”

“Tomorrow then. At that sushi place in Rustboro, then a late night flight?”

She smiled and Steven swore it was brighter than the moon itself. “It’s a date.”

dango: rice dumplings similar to mochi that are made during tsukimi to represent the moon!

thank you for reading this - i’m sorry again for not having posted anything this week, but i really hope you enjoyed! again, i’m going to try to figure out ao3 tomorrow - work has just been A Mess and i haven’t had a chance to until now.

i also want to thank the discord for helping me work through my writer’s block and just being really lovely <3 y’all are the best!!!

#hcsweek2021 #hoennchampionshipping #daiharu #day 1 - full moon #my writing #i really wrote 6k words when i could have just written....so much less

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pink-slinky-the-best · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! Yes I am the anon and please don't worry about not answering my question! It happens sometimes ;; I'll just say it here again if you don't mind; I love your writing so far and I cannot wait to see more in the future! I was thinking if you could do a Greaser! Spinel with her S/O being an artist? (I just fell hard for greaser Spinel and I LOVE it. No bar can messure the gayness I have now.) Thank you in advance and sorry if it's too much to ask. ;;; Also; your blog is a blessing thank u

[aaaaaaaa-- I am so sorry this took so long, anon! First I accidentally delete the ask and then I take so long to write it,,,]

[The truth is that I actually didn't save the finished fic and it didn't post properly,, and I lost all of it and I accidentally got a grudge on the ask--]

[Right off the bat,, thank you for liking my writing! almost 100 followers and I'm very glad people actually enjoy my mediocre writing!! And it's absolutely no worries about this ask, I love the ask and I love Greaser! Spinel too💖💖]

[And a massive thanks to @knifebean for helping me get to properly know how to write Greaser! Spinel :>]

[HEATED KISSING IN THE MIDDLE!]

The Look For You Is You

A pencil drops to your desk with a light tap, as you recline on your chair, letting a sigh whistle through your teeth as your orbs set themselves on the setting blaze, dipping into the faraway hills. A coat of the hazy hues glow up your room, a comforting light of dim golds and oranges, among the sky's widened ranges of ripping purple and fading blue. You gaze down and feel a smile tug at your lips- your eyes lay upon a small sketch of Spinel, one of the many you were doing this passing afternoon. It was a tried sketch of her familiar leather jacket, and you remember the familiar warmth you'd feel coursing through you when you took her arm in yours or laid yourself on her shoulders- how she'd give you a grin, a smirk, and returning whatever affection you were giving. Unfortunately, you had told Spinel that you were busy with a few things at home, unknowing that it actually wouldn't have taken you half as much time as you thought. Now, here you were- missing her, but too ashamed to call her back, assuming that she'd have already made other plans with her gang or something.

Standing up, you feel the muscles in your legs stretch with the simple action, and you sigh- doing simple stretch kicks, feeling everything in your legs get lighter. You bring a hand to the back of your head, getting a feel of your hair- somewhat oily, and an odd frizzy mess. Evening is nearing, and you decide that it's time for a shower- before it gets too cold.

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

You put a finger to your chin, gazing down at your chosen wardrobe apparel- deciding between two pieces of houseware. You shrug, deciding to just go with whatever you feel is the most comfortable between the two, and nearly put the other one inside your wardrobe, closing the doors with a slam and throwing your rear back onto your chair, gazing down at the untouched sketch of Spinel's leather jacket- black shading to accentuate the familiar black colour. Then, a drop of water drips onto the sketched sleeve of the jacket, and you immediately reel back- realising that even though you've wiped down the rest of your body and already put a top on- you haven't really dried your hair yet. Grabbing a soft fistful of your hair, your sigh and shake your head to lazily attempt to air-dry it. You feel droplets of water shake about, drops rolling on your desk and such, as well as drops rolling down your neck, behind your ear, and on your forehead. You stand up, intending to originally get your already wet towel back and dry your hair again- until your doorbell rings, and thrice at that. Whoever is at your door is dearly impatient.

You let out a heavy sigh through your minty fresh lips, grab your towel off the hanger and swing your door open, dashing to your door as your hands hurriedly but gently dry your hair, the towel absorbing even more water out of your hair. Before reaching your front door, you toss aside the towel to the coat hanger, your locks still wet but... considerably less so. Forgetting to even gaze through your peephole, you grasp the cold stainless steel of your front door's knob, your other hand turning the door lock twice, and bring the handle down, opening the door with a click. You peek through the open crack of your doorway, and just as quickly, magenta eyes stared back at yours, their orbs lined by a curious look. Immediately, you recognise the look and swing the door open, revealing Spinel, with a growing grin on her face, a glow rising in her tear-streaked cheeks.

"Spineeeeell!" You excitedly yell out, a goofy grin now plastered on your face, that happiness quickly reaching your eyes as well. It doesn't take long for her to lift her head and her eyes to eye you up and down-- noticing the somewhat damp clothes and wet hair.

"Doll!" She yells out in the same manner as you, copying your enthusiasm. You feel a giggle rise out of you at the sight of her and you immediately leap into her, wrapping your arms around her neck, feeling that same leather collar- it's cold, yet nothing could be warmer than the feeling of that firm black leather.

You feel her arms immediately wrap around you, taking a feel for your figure, before coiling around you in a loving embrace, one hand laying at your side, and another slithering up your back and playing with your hair, brushing her fingers and sorting herself through your wet locks. You lift your head from her chest, and Spinel gives you a proud smirk, seeing that excitement flaring in your orbs at the sight of her own cool magenta ones. "Missed me, toots?" She calls out, leaning closer to you, a hot breath fanning across your wet locks. You feel a heat rise in your own cheeks, as you tighten your arms around her neck and pull yourself closer to her, "Thought about you in the shower, so glad to see you now." You answered back, leaning forward as well. Within that look in her eyes, you see the familiar need she has for you as well.

Her fingers tug lightly on a handful of your wet locks, "This makes sense, then." She rests her palm on the top of your head, her other hand gladly feeling down to your back to your hip, pulling you closer to her in a tender embrace, her arms still almost endlessly coiled around you, you see her eyes eagerly eyeing you up and down, giving way for your own smirk. "You need a few kisses to make up for me being gone for a few?"

She eyes your smirk, and she leans in with a rather heated, physical reply- a heated kiss, her lips, hot and needy, eagerly smashing into your own cold, minty ones. Surprise licks at your skin, but you're quick to easily lean into the kiss and move your own lips against her, missing the lusting warmth of her kisses, moving your lips familiarly against hers, feeling her palm rested against the back of your head, a fistful of your wet locks in her hands, pressing you further into your heated make-out. You feel the need she has in the kiss, the need for you and your warmth- your lips on hers. She loved this, and so did you. That's why you fell in love with someone like her anyhow.

You melt in her coiled embrace when you feel her lean in and softly bite on your bottom lip, nibbling eagerly, tasting your skin and lusting more for your taste- tilting her head to deepen the kiss, almost clacking your teeth together. In return, you feel her eagerness pause when you just as eagerly glide your tongue across the warmth of her top lip, slipping a moan into the kiss- sending even more motivation into Spinel as she bites down onto your bottom lip, before she obliges to your own needs and lets your tongue explore her familiar sweetness, coaxing her tongue to dance with yours as you don't fight for the kiss' dominant spot, instead opting to explore the literal sweet spots of her mouth. Always so sweet, but it was a dessert you were always welcome to come and indulge in.

You feel her pull away, a hot breath drawing over your neck, but you take an arm away from her neck and you cup her cheek in your palm, "Easy, Spins," you murmur in her ear, feeling her shoulders drop, "Let's save the fun for later." You giggle into her ear, looking behind her and checking if anyone had seen you two intensely making out in your doorway. Fortunately, nobody was either passing or just didn't linger.

You hear her whimper, a rare sound to hear out of her- before you feel her arms begin to uncoil around you, and she pulls back, that lust gone from her eyes and replaced with that familiar look. "Fine, fine- that's a promise, toots." She says, one of her hands on your hips. She jerks a thumb to behind her. "Not to get off-track, but I came to pick you up for a ride. Y'know, it ain't good to coop up all day." She says, taking a step back. You immediately gaze down at your casual apparel, but you shrug and don't really care either way. You excuse yourself from Spinel to get a couple of things and get your keys- solely to lock your door.

It wasn't much longer until you were on the back of her ride, your arms wrapped tightly around her chest, pressing yourself closer to her as the wind flailed and sorted itself through your hair. Riding through the night, her speeding ride ripped through the still silence of the newly risen night, a familiar thrill as she takes a familiar path that only led to one destination, the foot of the ocean, the shore of Earth's giant waving mirror.

Bringing her ride to a halt, you immediately let your body take itself to it's instinctual action and hop off her ride, careful not to jostle up your bag too much- a jingle of metal keys and a hard cover evident. She takes a tender gaze at your form, lit up by the newly risen moon- a stark contrast of white and a dark blue filling the sky in the absence of the sun's hues. A smile tugs at her lips, baring her teeth in the least menacing way possible. A warmth courses through her gem, that warmth she'd felt the first time her eyes met yours, now understood in a new light.

Your orbs wandered around the sight, familiar and welcome. The frothy washings a wholly familiar sound to your ears. Immediately, you dig into your bag with a quick moment and bringing out your sketch pad, a sharpened pencil stuck to the ringing binders in its wide, eager to try your best to capture this moment- no matter how common of a sight it was, it was an Earthly beauty you could never get tired of. It wasn't something you...or anyone else for that matter, appreciated too much in the hustle and bustle of an all too much normal life with days filled with the regular and the mundane.

Flipping through your sketchpad, you caught sight of your Spinel sketch, and paused, the pencil gripped in one hand. A torrent of tender warmth caused your heart to swell, crimson strings coiling around you and tugging, tears pricking the lids of your eyes.

But with Spinel, you couldn't really call your life mundane and normal, could you? It was a normal that was welcome and not in the slightest bit mundane.

Caught up in your revelating moment, you didn't catch the sound of heavy, steel tipped boots crunching sand underneath it, and in another moment, a chuckle next to your ear brought you out of your daze. "Is that me? Gee, good job on the jacket, doll- ya' did good."

A smile tugged on your lips, blinking the tears away. There was a time, early in your new relationship, that you adored her look so much that you kept drawing her-- sketches, coloured full-body shots, all that sort. You adored it so much, you were embarrassed to show it to her.

No, not just embarrassed. You were...ashamed. Ashamed that you weren't doing good enough to really capture that feeling, that look, the colours, and the moments you drew.

So, no wonder you're glad she caught you from behind one day, absentmindedly sketching her ride- a mechanical sketch that left you confused, but eager nontheless.

You raise the pad above your head, giving way to your own chuckle, "Of course it's you, Spinsy. That entire pad might as well be dedicated to ya." You feel the pad slip away from your hands, and among the passing breezes, hear the flipping of paper- that fwip, one after another- in between the messy fwoo of the crinkling paper.

You feel her drop to sit behind you, her hands wrapping around you once more, giving you back your pad. "I'm flattered, dollface- ya sure like my look." Your curious at the way you noticed her voice drifted off to a thought.

"It's cute, it's unique- it's you." You reply back simply, hugging her arms that are already loosely coiled around your chest closer to you.

This simply rises another chuckle out of her.

"Ya wanna take the look for a spin as well?"

#steven universe spinel #Spinel #spinel x reader #self insert #x reader #reader insert #spinel imagines #greaser! spinel #ask #fic #I LOVE GREASER SPINEL #THANK U ANON!!

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dramaplustautology · 6 years ago

Text

Lost Time Part 2/???

Siegfried goes after the kidnapped Captain.

No warnings and that’s going to be the last you’ll see those two words.

I want to split the first part into at least 2 and this one used to be part of an even bigger one but it was so weird so I had to break it up. I feel like my pacing is much better but now, “chapter” cuts are confusing. like there’s several climaxes in the original but when you cut them up, there’s just no climax. AAAAAAAA

Ok and also, I have so much trouble going through Siegfried’s thoughts. Just so much even when I reread those events, his fate eps, everything, but I’m trying ajdhalskg.

Waaaay shorter this time, still with tons of talking and thinking instead of actions orz

whatever, I’m tapping my watch @ me like where’s the kink???

Barely paying attention to what his students were talking about, Siegfried began drifting, toying with his helmet when Cagliostro spoke up.

“Is it the island or Utala’s god father that’s strange?” Cagliostro toyed with her hair ornament. It hadn’t been sitting right on her head after her couch flipped over. “I was hoping a more sensitive nose could sniff it out.”

“Go ahead and call me a dog, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Vane said, genuinely guilty about almost killing Cagliostro. He glanced at the other crew members returning to the ship, whispering amongst themselves about the newcomer and the strangely silent forest. “But now that you mention it, I didn’t see any animals while we were here.”

“We arrived so soon after the storm and if those happen often, we assumed the animals were used to taking cover,” Lancelot added, looking to his former teacher. “Siegfried, you were deeper in the mansion. Was there anything strange?”

Siegfried had nothing to say. He was sure that he did, after sneaking ahead and scouting the second floor of the abandoned mansion but it had been cut short. Overhearing the conversation about Utala’s lost sibling wasn’t his intention and yet, he had become enraptured by a footnote of the past.

Of course, this wasn’t the sort of topic that come up in casual conversation, which Siegfried was also unused to handling. Still, he knew enough that despite Utala saying that the scars from growing up as a different person were small, talking about such a thing would be deeply uncomfortable for all participants.

That was similar to how, during discussions about Siegfried’s time as a fugitive, pain would flash in Lancelot and Percival’s, sometimes Vane’s, expressions.

“They really care about you,” Sara had noted to him one day. “They’re afraid that you still hold it against them for doubting you for all those years.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is it bad to say that I’m a bit jealous?”

Did they think that he would hold a grudge? He hoped that the way he acted didn’t give the impression that he did.

In all honesty, he didn’t remember those feelings. He knew that they had existed but they were so hazy now.

Siegfried hadn’t thought about that until Utala brought up the subject. The knight couldn’t make a good comparison between something as subjective as how much spite a person could hold for others wishing that they were someone else and spite for being framed for a crime.

The closest he had returned to those dark, wriggling emotions were from Alex embracing Utala and dragging her away. But that was only because Alex’s mannerisms were somewhat off-putting, to put it politely.

Utala said that it didn’t bother her, however, Siegfried was also sure that he had only heard a part of the story. Cagliostro on the other hand, who had recognized who Rio was…

“I’ll give you the details. Most of them. The rest has to come from the Captain herself.”

That implied that Cagliostro knew the rest of the details, intimately knew them if she was so confident about separating what should be said and what shouldn’t.

The more Siegfried try to ascertain why Cagliostro knew before Utala decided to tell him, the more questions it brought up about himself. Utala had always been jumpy around him, having to calm herself down before he felt it was safe to touch her.

As opposed to Cagliostro, who could drop out of a tree, disguised as a snake but be embraced wholeheartedly anyways.

“Am I so adorable that you can’t help but stare?” Cagliostro asked, winking at Siegfried with a finger pressed to her lips. Lancelot’s wrist twitched, like he had been about to shove her over the edge of the rail.

“Ah, apologies,” Siegfried came back to reality, refocusing on the actual topic at hand. “While I was in the mansion, I didn’t come across any sign of life except for Alexander and his maid. After putting more thought into the observation, it’s strange that such a structure wouldn’t be used as shelter by the wildlife.”

“Uuu, don’t say that after staring at me for a solid five minutes.” Cagliostro playful smile sharpened into a smirk.

“Which leads me to my other observation,” Siegfried, thinking fast, continued. “You wanted to know if we smelled anything amiss. Should we be smelling anything amiss?”

Crossing her arms, Cagliostro huffed and made a big scene about her pouting. Percival, who had been staring at Alex and Utala hugging for the entire conversation, didn’t notice and spoke over her.

“The incident with my brother was fresh on my mind today. That man’s dilapidated home was similar to the depths of my home. I thought that I was imagining the smell because of my memories being stirred but, did any of you feel the same?”

“Is that why you were so uptight today?” Vane asked, like Percival wasn’t high maintenance at all hours of the week. “I thought you were just being jealous.”

That got Percival looking, sputtering angrily trying to find a dignified way to reply.

“Jealous of that vulgar display?” The crease of Percival’s brow was so deep that it must have been burrowing into his skull. “If I saw a father handle their child in such a way, I would turn him to ash on the spot!”

“Haha! Tell us how you really feel, Percy!” Vane laughed but it didn’t get Percival riled in the normal way.

“I’m serious.” Percival shot a scathing look at the way Alex was practically spooning Utala where she stood. “There’s a difference between a ‘fatherly’ hug and harassment. No wonder Lyria and Vryn were pushed aboard first.”

“I can see it,” Lancelot agreed. “I didn’t want to bring it up since she seemed happy but there really is a difference between the way he’s been touching her and say, how Siegfried touches her.”

“Is that so…” Siegfried trailed off, a part of him wanting to correct him but he didn’t know why and in what way. Somehow, Cagliostro also knew how to correct that.

“Yes there is but not in the way you’re thinking.” Cagliostro snorted. “Come now, pat my head like you do with Utala.”

Lancelot and Vane were shaking their heads at Siegfried and Percival was looking at him like they were meeting for the first time.

Curious, Siegfried patted Cagliostro’s head and the alchemist rolled her eyes.

“How are you as clueless as my niece? Pretend that I am the Captain, and I mean really pretend that I’m your Captain.”

Hearing Percival tighten his crossed arms, straining the straps of his armor at Cagliostro’s intonation, made Siegfried cautious. Did Percival see a trap that Siegfried couldn’t?

Either way, there was nothing that hinted at harm so Siegfried closed his eyes and reached back out. He ran his hand over Utala’s forehead, weaving his fingers into her hair until his palm cupped her temple.

Feeling Cagliostro lean into the touch, Siegfried opened his eyes and found that the alchemist was batting her eyelashes at him, lips pursed. Jerking his hand away like he’d been bitten, he realised that Lancelot and Vane had lost the ability to speak and Percival’s confusion had turned to clenched teeth behind pressed lips.

In such awkward mishaps, Siegfried would look to Lancelot to keep them on base but his eyes darted to Utala down on the island. Her god father’s hand was splayed over her chest, thumbing at the collar of her dress as she gazed up at him.

An ugly emotion writhed inside him, boring into his chest as Alex rested his chin on Utala. Siegfried turned his back and started for the way under the deck.

“Siegfried?” Lancelot tried to go after him and expected the other knights to do the same.

Lyria began to scream.

All at once, everyone was on the move. Percival was the first on the gangplank with Katalina at his flank. Lyria held her hands out to the air as Vryn clung to her shoulder to brace for what was to come.

Then, the deck of the Grandcypher tilted ninety degrees. Siegfried stabbed his greatsword into the deck and grabbed Lancelot’s arm before he was swept into the nightmarish wind.

Another storm had picked up with vicious speed, forcing the summoned Tiamat to right the Grandcypher instead of coming to their Captain’s rescue. She couldn’t stop them from being thrown so high into the thundering clouds that Lancelot’s nose was bleeding from the sharp change in atmosphere.

The pouring rain washed it away and all around Siegfried was the chaos of his crewmates struggling to understand what had happened. Katalina had been forced back on deck, shielding Lyria and Vryn as they shouted for the Captain.

Thrown to the other end of the ship, Vane had his arm curled around the rail and the other curled around Percival, trying to keep him from thrashing out of it. He was shouting and the lightning crashing all around them made it impossible for Siegfried to hear him.

He couldn’t hear anything, only the white noise and the Captain’s absence telling him to make a mistake.

“What are you doing?” Lancelot yelled as Siegfried donned his helmet and began to run.

The Grancypher’s rail came at him fast and he jumped on the wood divider, and off the side of the ship.

“Siegfried!” He heard Percival call out, the monstrous wind devouring what might be the last voice he’d ever hear.

He dove into the flashing storm and its freezing torrential rain, fearing nothing but what he would find on an island that had disappeared from view.

That long winding conversation that had led nowhere had taken a little more than twenty minutes, and they had lost Utala and Siegfried in under twenty seconds.

“I should have known he was lying about knowing Utala’s father!” Vryn wrung his hands as Lyria hugged him, wincing at Percival slamming his fist on the railing. “All of those sketches and those stories fooled me. I should have waited for Rosetta to wake up.”

“No, he probably wasn’t lying,” Cagliostro, sitting in the corner of the deck with her knees against her chest, pressed her palms against her eyes. “If Utala’s father is anything like her, history’s just repeating.”

“What are you talking about?” Katalina asked, arms still shielding Lyria and Vryn long after the storm had gone, taking the island with it.

“I knew the smell inside that mansion but I wasn’t sure until now. Maybe I was blocking it out,” Cagliostro dragged her hands down her cheeks as the others approached. “It’s the same way I smelled after you freed me from my prison.”

“Then, does that mean—“Lyria coughed, clutching her side.

“Are you alright.” Katalina knelt, holding Lyria’s shoulders as coughs wracked her body with trembles.

They grew louder until everyone on deck turned their heads, just in time for her to collapse.

There were limits to what humans could do. Surviving a four hundred foot fall was a stretch that even some primals couldn’t reach.

But, as the puddle he lay in rippled from his stirring, Siegfried had discovered that a dragon could.

Fafnir’s blood had saved him a second time.

He awoke to a dimming violet sky, the stars twinkling above the gap in the forest canopy. Siegfried’s fall had been broken by branches that lay shredded to pieces around him, floating in the remnants of a storm’s rain.

There was no telling how long he had been asleep. Being stabbed by Hagan had taken days to recover the blood lost. He didn’t know how long it took for shattered bones to heal and if they did so correctly.

Raising his arm, Siegfried flexed his fist. The test yielded piercing pain but he held his breath, enduring. Slowly sitting up, the water flowing from the gaps in his freezing armor, he checked his surroundings as his spine creaked in protest.

The woods were so thick that it felt like he was sitting at the bottom of a well where the light leaking into the hole he had punched into the branches was fast disappearing. Water was still dripping from the branches, either meaning that the storm that attacked the Grandcypher had just ended or Siegfried had slept through a different one.

And during his time asleep, something could have happened to Utala.

Siegfried forced himself to calm, spying his greatsword stuck into the base of a tree trunk nearby. It had struck the middle, sinking until the half the blade was sheathed, and gravity had helped the weighty weapon slide further until it touched the ground.

Utala had deflected that sword, the first time they met and the numerous times they sparred. Alexander wouldn’t be facing a helpless child.

He ignored the ugly crackling his legs made when he stood. Finding his stride, Siegfried tugged his sword from the tree, hefting it on his shoulder, and found himself in a familiar landscape.

Like back then, there was no time to dwell on fears. The likeliest place for Utala to take shelter as in the mansion and in the worst case scenario, Alexander would have her imprisoned there. Siegfried just needed to know which direction it was.

As if a higher power was sending him a sign, the bitter smell of something burning reached his nose. He looked up and saw thin wisps of smoke wafting over the gap. Judging from the way it moved and the thickness of the plume, the knight knew which direction he needed to go and estimated that it wasn’t going to be a far walk.

Beginning slow, Siegfried went from a walk to a sprint, clearing distances that would’ve taken much longer with the uneven ground and foliage obstructing the way. He traversed the sodden landscape, snaking around the trees and the rotting husks of the ones that had fallen to the storm.

The blanketing darkness barely did much in slowing him down. It would have done a lot less several years ago. It had been a long time since he had to move through this kind of terrain with such urgency. Ironically, he was running towards a fire instead of away from it.

Being able to go so far, his shadow moving through the night, he supposed he hadn’t stopped being an inhuman beast.

“Leave it!” He heard a man hiss, coming to an abrupt stop.

It came from up ahead, where Siegfried could see the trees stop at a craggily wall of stone. He sped towards it, beginning to climb up the slick moss covered rocks.

“It never stops raining on this godsforsaken chunk of hell. If the fire spreads, it’s not going to go far.” Siegfried heard the sound of a window slamming shut and waited at the edge of the wall’s top. Footsteps scurried into the distance, and a door creaked open and shut before Siegfried thought it safe to pull himself over the ledge.

He had reached a barren terrace, the looming figure of the mansion standing beyond it. There were lights glowing in the third floor windows, and below in the corner of the terrace farthest from the mansion, was a brick incinerator.

Alexander had his maid burn garbage.

A deep sense of dread filled Siegfried’s stomach; an overwhelming creeping dread that had only taken him over a single instance in Feendrache Castle.

He approached the incinerator, reaching for the iron door like he had when Isabella had summoned him to the King’s chambers.

The fire inside was already dying down and a memory of Utala from outside Fafnir’s cave, shaking in fright and awe of Siegfried, edged into his mind. Hand shaking, he opened the incinerator hatch.

Laying on scattered ashes away from the small flames were patches of Utala’s dress, singed bits of her gloves, and what remained of her charred bones.

#Utala (S)#Alex (S)#maid's name still a spoiler

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