#I think he'd head home right before sunrise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sameschmidtdiffname · 6 months

Note

Hey I love your work so much!!

I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶

Sure, but it's gonna hurt!

Blue Sunrise

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.

Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)

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6:34 A.M.

The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.

But I don't. And I won't.

Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.

There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.

The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.

When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.

Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.

The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.

But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.

He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.

I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.

The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.

"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.

I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.

He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.

"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."

Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?

Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.

"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."

I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.

His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.

"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."

Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.

"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.

"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.

"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."

Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."

Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.

"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."

And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.

"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.

"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.

"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"

"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."

I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.

I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.

"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.

"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."

But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.

'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'

But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.

Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.

I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.

Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.

I don't want to be treated like this anymore.

"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.

Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.

'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.

"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.

"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"

Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.

"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"

"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."

Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?

"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.

"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?

"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.

"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.

"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.

"You didn't... call out or anything?"

My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.

"Just asking," he says quickly.

"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.

'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'

"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"

"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.

"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."

The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.

"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."

'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'

"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.

"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."

It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?

Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?

"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."

I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?

"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."

Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.

"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?

"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."

"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.

"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"

He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.

"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.

"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.

"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."

Fuck. Ooooooff!

This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.

"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."

"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.

"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."

But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.

"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.

"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."

He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."

He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.

"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.

"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."

"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.

"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"

No. Go away, let me rot.

"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"

Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.

Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.

"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.

Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.

I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.

"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."

"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.

"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.

There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.

But it'll all be okay.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

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19calicos · 2 months

Text

i know where to look — kuroo tetsurō ˎˊ˗

✶⋆.˚ chapter thirteen: on the kitchen floor ( 𖦹 )

currently playing: seagirl by king krule, raveena

word count: 726

cw: language, i'll kill you + i'm dying + kms jokes, alcohol mentions

kuroo thinks he's dying when he wakes up – for more reasons than one.

even before he opens his eyes, he can feel the way his head is pounding harder than the bass from a speaker. should've seen this coming, he thinks, since the first memory that comes back is him taking a shot or two within the first ten minutes of arriving at their apartment per oikawa’s impulsive self-invite.

after all, kuroo needed some liquid courage if he was going to try to be normal around them after that night at the skate park.

he hadn’t stopped thinking about it, the way they slipped their fingers in his so easily, how it made him short circuit. the mere thought of it tints his ears and cheeks pink and renders him breathless from how familiar they were, how right it felt when he sleepily fit his head in the crook of their neck before they went home.

it's still dark out when he finally gathers the strength to open his eyes. kuroo blinks once, twice, and then a few times quickly in disbelief.

it's them, and he's holding them while they're peacefully asleep, and they're snuggled up to him in this little couch like it's the most natural thing in the world. it takes everything in kuroo to keep breathing steadily so that he doesn't wake them up.

they're an angel.

his heart is on fire when he drinks in the way the moonlight spills onto them, lines of gentle beams through the window panes illuminating their face, and his hands and arms on their waist, and how they were breathing in sync, unforced and natural.

he's not stupid: kuroo could tell this is the result of a few too many shots, and all he wants now is to be able to do this sober every night in a real bed, his or theirs.

and if kuroo was pink before, he’s red now when another memory floats back to him.

i love you rings in his head, slurred but clear, like slanted and messy handwriting. he remembers he said it first, and although blurry in his mind, he can see the look on their face.

he can’t quite put his finger on it. it was a mix of hope, but also heartbreak. elated, but hesitant. conflicted.

and then kuroo remembers them saying i love you back with a lump in their throat and a falter in their speech, persisting despite the road blocks.

but he also remembers how they took his hand with both of their own, lacing their fingers again with their other hand on top as they rested into him on the couch, legs swung over his lap. kuroo could feel it still, how they blanketed him in their warmth like that, and how he rested his head on top of theirs as he listened to their unsure mumbles. their actions indeed were louder than words.

but i know you don’t mean it. you’re too good for me. i can’t love you back right.

in his 4am grogginess, kuroo isn't sure what they meant by that. he’ll gladly accept their love however they’re able to give it to him. he'd give them everything, if they were willing to accept him.

were they saying they’re not enough for him?

a glance at his watch tells him there's still a couple more hours until sunrise. he considers carrying them to their room wherever it is, but kuroo is scared of the smallest move nudging them awake. he's sure that the hangover he's dealing with right now – which was temporarily muted by the feeling of them in his embrace – could be worse for them in the morning, so maybe it's better if he just let them rest.

no, he wants them to rest. and he wants to keep being able to hold them like this. and he wants to care for them and tell them everyday he loves them as they are, and he wants them to know that.

he knows he says it all the time, but all this love really might just kill him. he'll tell them before his heart bursts into flames, though, just how much he really loves them.

as kuroo lets his eyelids droop, strong arms securing his hold on them, he plants a kiss on their forehead.

all he wants in this moment is to be theirs.

prev | masterlist | next

⟢ skater cat fan club got home around 3am, kuroo first woke up around 4am

⟢ atsumu was doing his best to be sneaky with spying on kurooyn. yn isn't sure if kuroo noticed him but they definitely did, and when kuroo got up to go use the restroom (everyone had a hangover, he didn't question why atsumu was on the floor #KingsMindTheirOwnBusiness) they smothered atsumu with a pillow

⟢ suna actually bought breakfast for everyone but kurooyn were gone literal minutes after he got back. he did bring yn's breakfast to them at ace before he went to class

⟢ kuroo is very much the type of person to overthink tones and punctuation in text messages

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reputationmunson · 2 years

Text

Bad Habit | pt. 2 | Eddie Munson x harrington!reader

part one

summary: The truth comes out

word count: 5.0k

cw: smut (18+), fluff, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving), afab!reader, use of y/n, mentions of drinking, swearing, she/her pronouns

a/n: first of all, i just wanted to thank everybody for all the love part one received! secondly, reader is adopted, so there is no mention of resembling Steve. thank you for reading :)

Steve thinks you’re acting unusual.

You’re barely home anymore, you whisper every time you use the phone, he’s pretty sure he spotted a hickey on your neck about a month ago and you’re always in a good mood.

For example, yesterday morning Steve accidentally woke you up because he was unaware you were home and he was expecting you to flip out on him or at least scowl at him.

Instead, you thanked him for waking you up so you could watch the sunrise…

So yeah, he’s a little suspicious.

All signs point to you being in a relationship and as your older brother he’s hoping it’s literally anything else. You guys live in a small town and he’s well aware that most of the guys here are total douchebags.

He even asked Robin and Nancy if you had said anything, but they knew nothing. Though both of them did agree that you’d been more on the chipper side lately.

If you are dating somebody, he isn’t surprised you haven’t said anything to him. Growing up with absentee parents, Steve was a little protective of you.

He goes into your room to try to get some information out of you but you aren’t home…

Shocker

“Eddie stoooop! I can’t breathe!” You say through laughter.

You’re currently in the middle of a tickle war in your boyfriend's bed.

Okay, war might not be the best word because it isn’t much of a fight.

“Fine. I will concede… for a kiss” He stops tickling you and anticipates your lips on his any second now.

“Hmm… I’m not sure if that offers good enough” You’re bluffing

“Let me prove it to you?” He smirks

You sit up and capture him in a kiss. It’s sweet and unhasty, like you have all the time in the world.

He eventually pulls away and stares into your eyes.

“What’s the verdict?”

You can’t stop smiling. You’ve been awake for barely ten minutes and Eddie’s had you smiling ever since you opened your eyes.

“Think I need another one to make sure you’re forgiven” He’s already leaning down to give you another kiss.

This time, the kiss grows more fervent. Before you know it, Eddie is pulling you on top of him.

His hands are roaming all over your body and when he gives your ass a delicate squeeze, you let out a quiet moan.

“Fuck, I hate to do this but I gotta get up. I’m working on Steve’s car today before his shift”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and let out a sigh. He kisses your head in apology.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Munson”

“Being cute is my specialty”

You both smile and you roll off of him. “Apparently humble isn’t” you joke.

He laughs and gets out of bed. You don’t miss the opportunity to admire him and if his back wasn’t turned from you he'd definitely make fun of you a little bit for being so obsessed with him.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

“Alright, I guess I should head out so we don’t get there at the same time. Don’t need Steve connecting any dots”

You gather all your stuff up while Eddie gets dressed.

“Don’t you dare think you’re getting out of here with a proper goodbye” He steps over to you to give you a goodbye kiss.

He holds your face in his large hands and it would be so easy to fall back into bed to finish what you both started, but Eddie’s too kind to cancel on Steve.

Dammit

“Tell me how much you’re gonna miss me” He smiles widely and you giggle

“Maybe I can show you tonight instead” You compromise and the look on his face lets you know that’s a great idea.

You give him one last peck and reluctantly walk out to your car.

You’re aware that having your car at Eddie’s might not be the smartest idea considering Max lives right across from him, but sometimes you can’t risk being dropped off down the street of your house the next morning.

Luckily for you, you’re her favorite (don’t tell Steve), so she doesn’t plan on ratting out seeing your car at Eddie’s. She also can’t really be bothered.

Max thinks it would be sweet if you and Eddie are an item. Don’t tell anyone she thinks that, though. She’ll deny any accusations.

“Good morning, Stevie” You say, walking into the kitchen.

“Good morning to you too, stranger. Stay at Laura’s again?”

“Oh. yeah. She’s been a little down lately so I just wanna be a good friend” You fib.

Laura has been your alibi since you and Eddie got together. She’s the only other person aware of what’s going on and it’s a safe option since she’s your closest friend who doesn’t hang out with your brother.

“Hm I guess that explains why you whisper every time you’re on the phone. Must be pretty personal?”

Your eyes widen for a split second before you act natural.

“That’s the reason. Super personal, Steve, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Anyways… what are you up to today?” You change the subject

“Eddie’s coming over to work on my car before I go to work” He says with a mouthful of cereal.

“Cool… I’m gonna go get ready for the day!” You scurry upstairs.

You knew it was going to be hot outside today so you decided on wearing your shortest shorts and a crop top. You’re definitely only wearing this because of today's forecast. No other reason.

Eddie looks so unfairly sexy while working on Steve’s car and it has you in tizzy.

You were watching him through the living room window, but when he put his hair in a low bun and took his shirt off, you had to go to your room to distract yourself.

Feeling bored, you decided he must be absolutely parched and could use a glass of water.

You grab two glasses of water for both of them and a bottle of beer for Eddie.

“I come bearing gifts” you announce walking over to them.

“Thanks, ba- bro. Thanks, bro” Eddie almost slips, but luckily Steve doesn’t realize anything.

“You didn’t bring me a beer?” Steve pouts.

“You have work soon. You want one get it yourself. You’re welcome, by the way”

Eddie chuckles and you can’t help but adore the sight of him.

Suddenly, You’re suddenly aware of the fact that Steve is watching you make eyes at Eddie.

“Well, um, I’m gonna go back inside.” You say and walk hastily inside.

“She’s been so weird. Do you think she’s acting differently lately?” Steve asks Eddie.

“Weird how?” Eddie’s voice goes up an octave.

“I don’t know. I think she’s got a boyfriend and scared to tell me. Just because she’s my younger sister doesn’t mean I’m gonna murder the guy she’s dating”

“Dude, when I first met her you threatened to shave my eyebrows off if I even thought about her.” Eddie cringes as he brings this up.

“That’s different. You’re one of my best friends it would be fucked up if you were…canoodling my sister.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely fucked up. Um, anyways, does she at least seem happy and stuff?” Eddie asks and hopes it doesn’t sound too obvious that he is in fact canoodling his best friend's sister.

“Annoyingly happy. She’s always smiling like it would kill her if she stopped. It’s creepy” Eddie looks away from Steve because he can’t contain the ginormous smile on his face.

“Well when you meet him, just try to keep in mind how happy she’s been lately.” He says in hopes that when Steves inevitably finds out, he’ll remember this conversation.

It’s highly unlikely.

“Alright, your car is good to go. Wanna make sure she starts?” Eddie suggests and Steve gets in the car. Both boys cheer at the sound of his car starting.

“You’re a lifesaver. I gotta get ready for work but feel free to stick around and use the pool. Maybe keep an eye on y/n so she doesn’t invite over whatever asshole she’s dating.” Steve is half joking and Eddie gives an awkward chuckle.

While Steve is in the shower, Eddie finds his way into your bedroom.

You’re lying on your side reading a book, completely unaware of his presence. He stands in your doorway and admires you until he decides he wants to be a menace.

In true Eddie fashion, instead of saying something to make you notice him he jumps on top of you, making you yelp.

“Well that’s one way to get my attention” You say and set your book on your night stand.

“And you’re half naked. That’s the best way to get my attention.” Eddie says, referring to you being dressed only in a sports bra and the shortest shorts in existence.

Eddie grabs you and flips you so you’re on top of him. You can’t help but kiss him for a couple of minutes before pulling away to stop.

“We can’t.” A kiss. “Steve is home.” Another kiss. “Let’s go downstairs” You let your forehead rest on his and give him a chaste peck before moving off of him. You throw on a t-shirt and leave your bedroom.

“Guess what Steve told me while I was working on his car.” Eddie says while following you down the steps.

“What?”

“He thinks you have a boyfriend.”

“Fuck, he doesn’t know it’s you, right?”

You both sit on the couch and leave a respectable distance between each other.

“Are you kidding? We both know I would not be alive if that was the case. He wants me to hang out here so you don’t invite your mystery man over. Oh, and might’ve said something about you being insanely happy…”

“I am insanely happy.” I love you is what you really want to say.

“And you can hang out here. As long as you don’t mind going for a swim. It’s so hot outside I can barely stand being in these clothes” You lower your voice when you say the last part.

Before he can respond with a typical suggestive comment, Steve comes back downstairs to say goodbye before heading to work.

“Alright, I gotta head out. I won’t be home until late. You staying home tonight?” He asks you

“Oh, I don’t know. Laura hasn’t asked me to stay with her yet”

“Well, she can stay here, ya know? Unless there’s another reason…”

“Nope, not at all. You better get going, you don’t wanna be late!”

Eddie tries to keep a straight face and Steve leaves without another word.

It feels like an eternity before he pulls out of the driveway

“Up for a swim?”

Eddie nods quickly.

You’re trying to decide which bathing suit you want to wear and Eddie waits patiently on your bed. He turned on music to entertain him knowing it takes you ages to make a decision, but he isn’t complaining. He loves your look of concentration.

“Wear the red one,” He suggest. “You look sexy in red. Or maybe we should just go naked”

He wiggles his eyebrows

“Yeah, you’d like that. But on a day like this, I’m betting either our friends or the kids show up unannounced to use the pool”

“Yeah that would be just our luck”

You begin to get undressed and Eddie looks around your room to avoid being so obvious.

“Eds, you can look. Nothin you haven’t seen before”

“Just trying to be respectful, sweetheart”

“Since when?”

He laughs and finally looks at you. He feels like the air has been knocked out of him.

“I have a feeling Laura is definitely going to ask you to spend the night. Something tells me she’s really gonna need you tonight”

“Well, lucky for her, I’m in the mood to be a very good friend tonight”

“Hmm maybe we could postpone our swim so you can be a good friend right now” He pats his lap for you to join him.

“Can’t I be a good friend in the pool?” You’re already walking over to him to straddle his lap

“Maybe you can be now and later… if you catch my drift”

“I always catch your drift. You aren’t exactly subtle”

“Shut up and kiss me. I’m dying here”

You oblige quickly.

While lost in the kiss, you suddenly become aware of the fact that you’re completely naked while Eddie is fully clothed.

Your hands fly to the hem of his shirt and you quickly remove it so you can get back to kissing him.

His hands move to gently massage your tits and you moan into his mouth then start to grind on him slowly, making him moan in response.

He’s hard against you and you come to the conclusion that you want to give him some relief as soon as possible.

You take your lips off of his and trail kisses down his jaw and neck. You move into a position that allows you to kiss down his chest and stomach until you reach his happy trail.

You begin to gently suck and kiss at his happy trail and his breathing gets heavier. Usually he’s the big teaser, but you wanted to flip the script.

Your hand palms him through his jeans and he groans. “Baby, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Lemme take my pants off. Busting in my jeans isn’t exactly on my agenda”

You choose to be nice and start to take his pants off. Apparently you aren’t doing it fast enough because he stands up and removes his pants and boxers.

No matter how many times you’ve seen his cock, it still makes you drool.

“Lemme suck you off. Please”

“On your knees, baby”

You swiftly move to your knees when Eddie sits on the edge of your bed.

He looks down at you and admires the way you’re staring at his dick

“Get to it, love. Wanna cum in that pretty mouth”

You spit in your palm and give him a few pumps before wrapping your lips around him

At first, you just focus on the tip and swirl your tongue. He tries to stop his hips from thrusting so he can go deeper.

“Don’t tease me, pretty girl. You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?”

You nod and take him deeper. He lets out a loud moan and you begin to bob your head a little faster.

“Fuck, that’s it. Always take my cock so well”

After a few more seconds, you pull back and he whines. “Want you to be rough, Eddie. Don’t hold back”

He smirks and gathers your hair in his fist. “Smack my leg twice if it's too much. Got it?”

“Got it”

“Stick your tongue out for me, baby”

You listen and he taps his cock on your tongue a few times before fully putting it back in your mouth.

He starts thrusting slowly to warm you up. You whine to let him know you want it faster.

His pace starts to pick up and he looks down at you to make sure you’re alright

Your eyes are closed and he feels his dominant side creeping up on him.

“Eyes on me or you won’t be cumming at all today”

You open your eyes and look up at him. Your eyes are watery and your pupils are blown wide.

Fuck, he can’t believe your his girl

Eddie starts to fuck your throat relentlessly and you moan around him. Your hands hold his thighs and you squeeze them hard. He worries it's too much for you. “You okay?”

Neither of you have broken eye contact and you give him a nod to keep going.

Tears are spilling from your eyes and you look so fucking pretty it should be illegal.

“I’m gonna cum in that fucking mouth and you’re not gonna waste a drop. Want you to swallow all of it”

His thrusts grow sloppy and you know he’s about to finish

Soon his warmth fills your mouth and you’re both moaning. He can’t believe how much this turns you on.

He pulls out of your mouth and you gasp for air.

“Not too rough, right?” He takes your hand to help you off your knees

“Not at all. I liked it, just need a minute”

He smiles and moves to sit against your headboard. You go back to straddling him.

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and his arms wrap around you.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.

“Teddy” You whisper in a sing-song voice. He always knows you’re feeling vulnerable when you call him Teddy. “Yeah?”

You pull back to look at him.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything”

“I, uh, know we haven’t been together that long, but I really need to get this off my chest”

He mentally prepares himself for what you’re gonna say

“I love you. So much that I feel like I’m gonna explode and I’m sorry if it’s too soon or something but I just can’t hold it in anymore”

“Too soon? Psh. Pretty sure I fell in love with you first day I met ya”

“Really?” You smile so wide it almost hurts

“Really. Steve was talking shit about my music and you said something like ‘Steve, you cry listening to time after time by cindy lauper. I don’t think you should be talking’ and I just knew I wanted to be yours”

You both laugh at the memory and bask in the feeling of being total lovesick idiots.

After a few moments of silence, you speak up.

“I’m ready, Eds. I want you. Can’t imagine it being anyone else”

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting”

“One hundred percent sure. Now show me what ya got, Munson”

“How romantic. Lay down for me”

Unbeknownst to you, Robin is currently downstairs looking for you to see if you’re up for a swim. Little does she know, Eddie is currently eating you out like it’s his job.

Between the music in your room and being so lost in the moment, neither of you hear the footsteps approaching your room.

Robin isn’t exactly familiar when it comes to having boundaries and she swings your door open without knocking and is met with the sight of Eddie between your legs.

Both of you abruptly turn your heads and all three of you are frozen.

Robin quickly turns around but doesn’t move. “Oh, I’m sorry it seems I’ve opened to door to an alternate fucking dimension where this makes sense” If this was under different circumstances, this sentence probably would’ve made you laugh.

Without another word, she frantically walks out of your room

“Robin, wait!” You call after her and put your robe on to follow her. Eddie also gets up and gets dressed to follow the both of you.

“Am I suffering from heat exhaustion? Does that cause hallucinations? I need to sit down”

Robin sits on the couch, looking a little bit traumatized from walking in on you and Eddie.

Eddie giggles and you lightly elbow him.

You don’t really know what to say. You always assumed you would tell Steve first and then everyone would find out in a completely different way.

“So…” Eddie starts

“What the fuck did I just walk in on? I’m seriously confused”

“Well, ya see, Robin, when two people love each other-”

“That’s not what I mean, Munson. I mean- wait. Did you just say love? Like in love? Can someone please start explaining I wasn’t joking about the being confused part!”

“Okay” You breathe out “Eddie and I have been seeing each other for the past couple of months and it’s been going really great so we didn’t wanna tell anyone because we were scared that things might get complicated, especially if Steve knew”

“Oh my god I didn’t even think about Steve. He is going to kill you!” She points at Eddie

“We know that’s why you can’t tell anybody” He responds

“This is huge, guys! I have to tell somebody that you two are hooking up I am incapable of keeping this to myself” She gets up and begins to pace

“Rob, please you have to keep it a secret. I know it’s big but I promise we’ll tell Steve soon so you don’t have to keep it a secret too long”

“We will?” Eddie asks

“Eventually, yeah. We sort of have to. What, are we not gonna invite him to the wedding?” You realize what you’ve just said and your eyes widen. “I mean, we aren’t getting married. I just, um, what I meant to say was-”

“You’re adorable, ya know that?” He smiles at you and you forget Robin’s having a total freakout for a moment.

“Before you two start doing it on the coffee table, I need to know the details because as your best friend, I am truly offended you kept this from me”

All three of you sit down and you and Eddie tell her all about your relationship, obviously sparing the dirty details. (She’s going to try to get them out of you later).

“Aw, so you guys are in love! This is so great, especially for you, Eddie. y/n is most definitely out of your league”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree.

“I guess I should go to let you guys…continue. By the way, both of you owe me. I’m talking personal chauffeurs and buying me pretty gifts. Deal?”

“Deal”

“I’d love a ride to the mall tomorrow” She says, walking to the door.

“Bye, Robin!”

“So, was that a mood ruiner for you or…” Eddie asks

You stand up and extend your hand out to him. “C’mon”

He takes your hand and you lead him back up to your bedroom.

Eddie unties your robe and you let it fall to the floor. His clothes are off seconds after you lie back down on the bed.

He hovers over you and his eyes bore into yours, making you feel safer than you’ve ever felt.

“I love you”

“I love you, more” Your hand cups his cheek

“Impossible” He kisses your wrist before leaning down to kiss you properly.

“Do you have any condoms?” He asks in a hushed tone

“Don’t need one. I’m on the pill”

He smiles and gives you a passionate kiss

Eddie grabs his cock and guides in through your slick folds. You gasp when it hits your clit.

“Are you ready?” He asks

“More than ready” you smile up at him.

“Tell me if anything hurts, kay?”

“Kay”

He starts by just putting the tip in and you both moan at the same time.

“More. I’m okay”

He slowly goes a little bit deeper and gives you time to adjust before he starts to move.

“Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so fucking wet”

“You’re so big. Feels so good inside me”

His pace picks up a little and you pull him down so he’s laying on top of you and you wrap your arms around him.

You didn’t expect this to feel as good as it does. After hearing stories from friends, you expected it to be completely uncomfortable and awkward, but you haven’t experienced either of those feelings.

“I’m not gonna last much longer” He pants

His hand slides between your bodies and he starts to rub your clit, making your back arch.

His middle and ring finger work faster on your sweet spot and you feel like you’re seeing stars

“Please don’t stop I’m so close, Eddie”

“Me too, baby. Cum with me. Need to feel you cum around my cock”

Both of your moans are getting louder and Eddie lets out a deep groan when he feels you walls clench around him.

You feel Eddie’s cum fill you up and it sends you over the edge.

Your nails are scratching his back and he collapses on top of you, kissing your neck as you work through your orgasm.

Both of you lay there in silence and you run your fingers through his hair and he hums in gratitude.

“I’ll be right back” He says before leaving your bedroom.

He returns with a glass of water and a warm rag to clean you up.

He starts to clean you up and you hiss a little at the contact, making him look up at you warily.

“Sensitive. I’m okay”

Once he’s done, he moves to hold you in his arms.

“How was that? Wasn’t painful or anything, was it?”

“It was perfect. I never imagined it being that good”

You can practically see his ego inflate, but he deserves it.

“Me neither. Best I’ve ever had”

You roll your eyes, but he means every word.

You take a nap before going to Eddie’s and spend the rest of the day wrapped up in each other, making each new time the best you’ll both ever have.

It’s been two weeks since Robin found out and she’s been loving making you and Eddie her personal servants.

Even if you didn’t do these things for her, she still wouldn’t spill your secret, but she can’t deny that she’s enjoying it.

The group is spending the day enjoying your pool and you wore your red bathing suit that Eddie loves so much.

It’s almost impossible for him to keep his hands off of you

“y/n, would you be a dear and get me a drink from inside please?” She smirks at you and you have no choice but to compel

“Anything for my queen” You say before heading inside.

“Ugh, can someone look at this freckle on my shoulder. Is it concerning looking?” Robin tries to get a good look at her freckle but can’t get the right angle, so Eddie helps her out.

“Oh, it looks fine. y/n has one like that on her hip”

Steve immediately whips his head towards Eddie and shoots daggers at him.

“What?” Steve says through gritted teeth

“What?” Eddie’s eyes widen when he realizes what he’s done.

“How in the world do you know she has a freckle on her hip?”

“Um, everyone knows. She talks about it all the time, duh”

“You’re dead, man.”

When you walk outside and see Steve chasing Eddie around the pool, you don’t think anything of it until you hear Steve yell “I’m gonna fucking kill you” and your stomach drops.

He knows

Robin notices you and looks like she has no idea what to do

“y/n, I have it on good authority that Steve knows about you and Eddie”

You hurriedly give Robin her drink and join in the wild goose chase around the pool

“Steve, stop! You’re overreacting”

He halts, suddenly. “Overreacting? You’ve gotta be kidding me. How long has this been going on?”

“About two and a half months” you answer

“Two and a half months?!”

“C’mon, Steve. Lets just talk this out” Eddie tries to level with him

“Great idea. I’ll go first” Steve starts “You, Eddie Munson, have been doing my little sister and you’ve both been lying about it. What, you were tired of no one wanting to fuck you so you took advantage of her?”

“Hey! I’m not gonna stand here and let you talk about him like that! I’m an adult, Steve, I can make my own decisions. he’s not taking advantage of me I can’t believe you’d even say something like that”

“Babe, it’s okay-”

“Babe? Seriously? I feel like I’m in the goddamn twilight zone! Did you know about this?” He turns to look at Robin

“I, um, might’ve had some idea, but only because I walked in on them doing it!”

“Robin!” you and Eddie shout at the same time and she apologizes.

“Well, that’s just great. So all three of you were lying? I can’t believe this. You know he’s gonna leave you once he gets bored because that's what guys do, y/n”

“No, Steve. That's what you do” You argue back

Before it gets any more heated, Eddie walks over to you. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close to him.

“I know you’re mad, but we aren’t just hooking up. I love her. I can promise you I’m not leaving her”

You see Steve’s face soften once Eddie says this. He’s always been a bit of a romantic.

“You mean that? You guys are like, in love and shit?”

Eddie looks at you and smiles. “Yeah. In love and shit”

Steve’s mood shifts entirely, like he was never upset at all.

“Oh my god, that’s great! My best friend and my sister! Dude, we’re gonna be brother-in-laws”

“Okay, let’s slow down” You say, not wanting to scare Eddie off and you’re also extremely surprised at his sudden reaction shift.

��Oh, c’mon babe, we are so gonna be brother-in-laws” He leans down to pull you into a kiss

“Alright, gross. I don’t need visuals of you two, I’m still having nightmares about the hickey I saw on your neck a while ago”

You hide your face, embarrassed.

“I desperately need a beer after that. Robin, help me grab drinks for everyone” Steve and Robin disappear, leaving you and Eddie alone.

“So, cats outta the bag” You wrap your arms around Eddie’s torso and his hands fall to your hips.

“Dustin’s gonna be so pumped. He’s been waiting on me to make my move on you forever”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now? Dustin?” You both laugh

“Sorry, the little dude’s just got a way about him. It’s kinda freaky”

You move your arms to drape around his neck and look into his eyes.

He leans down to kiss you because that’s something you can do now without fear of getting caught.

“I love that I can do that whenever and wherever now”

“Hmm, think Steve will still have a problem with that”

“Who cares? Don’t know if you heard but he’s gonna be my brother-in-law”

“Think we can sneak off to my room?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re super sneaky”

Steve and Robin don’t say a word when they catch you and Eddie sneaking through your bedroom window.

Turns out neither of you are as sneaky as you think.

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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bcdrawsandwrites · 1 month

Text

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic banner in the style of the game's achievement icons. A tattered yellow-white ID card is shown on a gray background. On the left side of the card is a stylized portrait of Miss Pauling, and on the right of the card is a stylized globe. On the right of the banner is the chapter's title in yellow-white, reading "CHAPTER EIGHT: IDENTITY THEFT" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Miss Pauling, Medic, Heavy, Scout, Sniper Warnings: General references to trauma Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 8: Identity Theft Summary: In which Spy makes use of his disguise kit.

---~~~---

Once again, Spy found himself staying on-base overnight. The drive out to the bookstore and back had been quite enough time on the road for him, after the little sleep he'd gotten the night prior, so he opted to stay rather than make the trip back home.

Fortunately the Pyro had not attempted another absurd bonfire that night, so those who chose to stay were able to sleep as well as they could. Which, for some, was not as well as might be hoped.

Spy woke before sunrise to the sound of voices—Medic's was the first he could identify, calm and authoritative and mildly annoyed, while the second was Heavy's, a low, quiet rumble. While normally he would not bother eavesdropping at such an early hour, the smell of blood from his dreams lingered in his nostrils, and he could do with a brief distraction. So, slipping out of bed, he crept to the door and listened.

"...have spoken with Herr Engineer about this, and no, it is not possible."

"Da, I know this."

"Then you did not have to wake me up at four in the morning."

"I did not mean to wake Doctor up. Only to check."

"That will not be necessary. If I am ever in mortal danger again, I will be sure to let you know."

Silence. No footfalls followed.

Medic went on, lowering his voice. "If it makes you feel better, you're not alone. That schweinhund keeps showing up in my nightmares."

"This... does not make Heavy feel better. Would like to help."

"You can do that by letting me sleep." The Medic sighed. "Tell you what—I can train Archimedes to come get you if there is a problem. Would this make you feel better?"

"...Da. I think so."

"Good. I can also prescribe you something to help you sleep."

"Maybe. Will see." A pause. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Yes, good night."

Finally Heavy moved away, while Medic shut his door.

Spy stood for a moment, wondering if he should ask Medic for some sleep medication as well, but shook his head. No, he just needed to sleep in his own bed again, is all.

Yawning, he trudged back to the other side of the room and slipped into bed.

Everything was fine. They would be over this soon.

—-

Upon entering the mess hall, Spy abruptly remembered the events of yesterday when he found it near devoid of chairs and with multiple of his fellow mercs standing about awkwardly. Sniper lurked in a corner, nursing what was surely not his first cup of coffee; Engineer leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, eating a plate of eggs and bacon; Demo knelt awkwardly next to one of the tables, leaning his head against it; and Soldier sat in the only chair, shoveling burnt pancakes into his face.

Sighing, Spy turned away—perhaps today would be a good day to rest at home.

"The chair problem's bein' corrected," Engineer said, and Spy looked back at him. "Miss Pauling said she'd come deliver them herself."

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Good to know, but strange she would make the delivery herself."

Engineer shrugged. "I don't question these things."

"I don't expect you to," Spy muttered as he stepped past him and into the kitchen. Perhaps it would be beneficial for him to stay around a little while longer, if it meant he could speak with another potential source.

Breakfast went by quickly enough, and he hoped it wouldn't be much longer before Miss Pauling arrived. He had no desire to hang around the other mercenaries for the time being, and retreated to his bedroom, cracking open the window so he could hear Miss Pauling's vehicle when she arrived. He'd grabbed his book from his smoking room, but upon entering his room, he found his gaze drawn to the mirror.

Spy set down his book on his table and stood before the mirror. In one swift motion he whipped out his cigarette case and opened it. His gaze fell not upon his cigarettes, but the disguise kit. A few quick taps and a puff of smoke, and he found himself staring at the Engineer.

"Yee-haw, I struggle to pay attention to anything that is not made of metal!" he said mockingly in the Engineer's voice.

Rolling his eyes—invisible beneath those stupid goggles—he tapped the disguise kit again a few more times. A puff of smoke later, he was adjusting Medic's glasses. "I give pointless diagnoses and extremely unhelpful advice, and my lab reeks like a badly-maintained zoo!"

Spy shook his head, glancing down at the disguise kit again and looking through a few more disguises.

He paused.

He could, of course, turn into dead people. It was part of his modus operandi in battle—killing one of his enemies and then disguising himself as them in order to either sneak around or kill more of the enemy team. But...

For a long moment he stared at the name on the device, and, after a brief hesitation, hit the confirmation button.

When the smoke cleared, he was staring at Beatrice, the pyro of the former gray team. The disguise included her mask, but he removed it in order to stare at that face he remembered seeing what felt like a lifetime ago—the gray hair, the burn-scarred face, the singular eye. Yet... no, she still didn't look quite right.

Spy thought for a moment, then replicated a calm, smug grin.

There she was.

He would not soon forget that smile, nor the way it had twisted her face in dark, eager excitement as she looked at the Pyro.

"I like a challenge."

Spy shuddered as he spoke the words in her voice.

Admittedly, he sometimes felt joy at seeing his own enemies in pain. He might occasionally twist the knife—quite literally—but for the most part, he just did his job.

That was not, he knew, the case for this woman. This woman, who, when charged to interrogate them, asked Soldier one question before continuing to torture him, very clearly must have taken pleasure—joy, even—in what she did.

So what had she done to Pyro?

Spy lowered his head in thought. Off the top of his head, he knew what could be done to hurt most of his fellow mercenaries. Soldier, who took joy in his own torture, would have taken a severe blow to being told that he was not a true member of the United States armed forces. Heavy valued his family, and would potentially bend under threats made toward them. Engineer would be pained to see his hard work destroyed—not merely his beloved buildings, but his blueprints, which allowed him to rebuild them. He could go on, but there was no point. He knew what could hurt the others.

He did not know what could hurt Pyro—what had hurt Pyro. What had drained its life of color. What had brought it down to the point where if it dared to make a noise, it would degenerate into a panicked mess.

Looking up, he stared into Beatrice's eye.

"What did you do?"

He arranged her face into the same smug grin he saw the day she tortured Pyro, the day she died. And again he repeated the words he remembered her saying:

"I like a challenge."

Realization hit him like a sniper's bullet, and the disguise faded in a puff of smoke, leaving Spy staring wide-eyed at his own reflection.

His chest began to burn, and he stumbled over to his chair. A cigarette soon found its way into his mouth, hoping to cloud his disturbed thoughts, but his hands searched for his lighter, only to come up empty.

A motor rumbling outside interrupted his dazed thoughts, and initially he wondered where Sniper was off to before he remembered. Jumping up from his chair, he looked out the window and spotted a truck pulling in front of the base, and a familiar purple dress on the person stepping out of said truck.

Drawing in a breath, Spy straightened his jacket and exited his room. Perhaps he could talk to Miss Pauling about this—she may know something that he didn't.

But as he neared the front of the base—

"—I mean, you didn't have to come all the way out here just to see me, Miss Pauling!"

"I didn't. I came out here to deliver this myself because I knew if we sent someone else, you guys would shoot the delivery driver. ...Again."

Scout and Sniper had met Miss Pauling at the door, the latter sizing up the furniture in the back of the truck, and the former flexing his arms at every opportunity.

Scout shrugged. "Well, while you're here—"

"While you're here," Miss Pauling countered, "why don't you help me haul this stuff in." As she was turning away, she added, "Hi, Spy."

Scout looked over his shoulder, only to do a double-take. "What's with you? You seen a ghost or somethin'?"

Abruptly Spy realized that he'd been staring, and that the blood had drained from his face. But Scout was already shrugging and stepping out the door, followed by Sniper, who gave Spy a knowing look as he left.

"Yeah," Scout was saying outside. "I don't blame you for wanting first row tickets to the gunshow!"

"Oh! I'm going there with Heavy in a couple weeks, actually."

Gritting his teeth, Spy stormed into the mess hall, and, from there, into the kitchen. While normally he wouldn't bother with such menial tasks here, he removed his jacket and slipped some rubber gloves over his usual ones and began to wash the dishes that had been left to pile up in the sink. It would get him out of their way, and give him something to do while he waited for Scout to stop bothering Miss Pauling.

The sound of chair legs shrieking against the floor soon let him know that they were replacing the chairs in the mess hall. Above that, he could hear Scout's attempts at flirting, which might have amused him had it not made him remember a more dazed version of Scout's voice cracking jokes, when—

"Hey—hey! Heavy! Since when are you goin' on a date with Miss Pauling?!"

"What is Scout talking about?"

Seizing his opportunity, Spy yanked off the rubber gloves and whipped his jacket back on before hurrying out to meet Miss Pauling. He skirted past the utterly stupid argument unfolding in the mess hall and rushed out the front door, where he caught Sniper and Pauling both hauling in a new chair for the lounge.

"Miss Pauling," Spy said, and she gave him a grunt of acknowledgment. "May I have a word?"

"Yeah, sure, just let me—"

Spy approached one of the free sides of the chair and helped lift it up, bearing some of its weight.

"Oh, thanks!" She gave him a relieved smile, and the three of them carried the chair through the base and into the lounge, where they set it down. Wiping her brow, she heaved a sigh. "Sheesh, Pyro did a number here, huh?"

"Yeah," Sniper said, leaning against the chair. "Like I said, you shoulda' seen that bonfire it made!" He gestured with his hand in an attempt to indicate the height.

"Actually," Spy cut in, "that's what I wanted to talk with you about."

Miss Pauling raised an eyebrow. "The bonfire?"

Spy gave a quick look around—he hadn't seen Pyro yet today, but he didn't want to take a chance that it was anywhere nearby. Frowning, he motioned for Miss Pauling to follow him outside.

"Is it the furniture?" she asked, bewildered, as she followed. "I'm sorry, Spy, but we can't afford stuff that's as nice as what you have in your smoking room for every—"

"It's not that," Spy said as they stepped out the front door again. He looked back to see the Sniper had followed them out, but there was no reason to send him away. "It's... about the Pyro."

"Pyro?" Miss Pauling echoed. "I mean, it's not that weird for it to be setting fires."

"No, it's been acting strange. More violent on the battlefield, and strangely silent. It... managed to communicate recently that it no longer sees color."

"Oh, man..." Miss Pauling's brows knit with sympathy, and she lowered her head for a moment, only for it to shoot back up. "Oh! Do you think this is from whatever the enemy pyro did to it?"

"That is exactly what I think." He automatically tried to take a drag from his cigarette, only to remember it wasn't lit to begin with. With a growl, he tossed it to the ground and stomped it. "While I have yet to figure out the specifics of what happened... I may have figured out at least one of the details."

Both Miss Pauling and Sniper leaned forward in interest.

"Pyro has been silent, but I do not think it wants to be. However, whenever it does vocalize, it falls into a panic."

Miss Pauling looked down in thought, frowning. Meanwhile, Sniper hummed, and Spy wondered if some gossip about the incident at Medic's lab had gone around.

"Furthermore," Spy went on, "the enemy pyro took an interest in our Pyro when that idiot Soldier let slip that it could not talk."

He let that sink in for a moment. Sniper's brow furrowed, while Miss Pauling's head suddenly shot up, her eyes wide.

"I believe," he said, eyes narrowed in disgust, "the enemy pyro may have punished it for saying anything other than the information she desired."

Sniper scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Pyro can't talk—not with normal words, anyway."

"Exactly my point. She—"

"She saw it as a challenge!" Miss Pauling exclaimed, her face going pale. "She wanted to see if she could force Pyro to talk!" She wrapped her arms around herself. "Poor Pyro..." After a moment, she straightened, jabbing her thumb at the truck behind her. "I mean, all this is still coming out of its paycheck, but still."

"Bloody wankers," Sniper growled. "But what'd they even do to it?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Spy said, and looked at Miss Pauling. Sniper followed his gaze.

"...Wait," he said, pointing at Miss Pauling. "You knew about my birth parents, and where I came from. You gotta know something about where that bloke came from, or what it even is."

Miss Pauling winced. "Look, the Administrator wouldn't even tell me about it, so I'm as much in the dark as you are. Heck, she only told me about your parents because they were a lead on the world's remaining Australium."

Gritting his teeth, Sniper turned away.

"Surely there must be something you know?" Spy asked.

"Yeah—a lot! Just nothing in particular about Pyro, other than that it's not human." She rubbed her forehead. "Look—Medic might know something—"

"His knowledge is limited, as Pyro does not cooperate with examinations. What little he does know is classified."

"Ah, right. Just between him and the Administrator, huh?" Heaving a sigh, she tipped her head back. "Look, Spy... I'd really like to help you—or help Pyro, anyway—but I'm not sure what I can do."

"Well, Miss Pauling, given your unique position, I think there might be something you could do to retrieve the information I need. Even just to persuade the Administrator to—"

Miss Pauling gave a forced, humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Sorry." When Spy gave her a look, she softened. "No, seriously, I am sorry. But with how badly everything went with that last mission, I—" She cut herself off, and swallowed.

Spy looked at her for a moment, and she looked back, and he nodded slowly. "I understand."

"Thanks," she replied, her shoulders drooping. "I hope Pyro will be okay. It's nice of you to look out for it."

Spy shrugged. "It was merely a mission I gave myself, since no one else was looking into it."

Feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck, he knew Sniper was staring at him—for what reason, he didn't know, but he would not look back.

"Great!" Miss Pauling smiled, oblivious to the tension between the two mercenaries. "Sniper, could you help me get the last one?"

"Sure thing, mate." The Sniper followed Miss Pauling over to the back of the truck, but as he passed, gave Spy another look—one that seemed to say, we need to talk.

Absolutely not.

Frowning in thought, Spy hurried back into the base, heading down a few hallways until he neared the medical wing. There he stopped, looking around to make sure there was no one else around. There was no sign of anyone else heading this way, and, creeping up to the doors and listening, he could only hear Medic's voice speaking softly to Archimedes.

Casting one last look to assure himself he was alone, Spy whipped out his disguise kit.

A moment later, Miss Pauling burst into the lab. "Medic—? Oh, good, you're here."

Medic looked up, his eyebrows raised, while Archimedes fluttered up to the ceiling and Aristotle squeaked. "Ah, Miss Pauling! Good to see you!" the Medic said, smiling as he strolled up to meet her. "Finally come for your follow-up appointment? I've almost got the blood type separation technique worked out—"

"Uh, no, not today. I'm in a bit of a time crunch—since we set up office again, the Administrator realized she's missing some of the mercenaries' medical files, and I haven't had the chance to come out here until now."

Medic sighed. "Very well," he said, turning toward his filing cabinet. "Which ones did you need?"

"Just Scout, Soldier, and Pyro," she replied.

"Oh, you're in luck! I just updated Pyro's file recently."

"Yeah, great." Distractedly Miss Pauling looked around the lab, her eyes falling on Aristotle's, which were narrowed at her suspiciously. "Oh, uh, is... that the monkey you got from—never mind."

"Ja, he is!" Medic smiled as he went through the folders. "Say hello to the lady, Aristotle."

Aristotle hissed and scampered up to Medic's side.

"Now, now, that's no way to behave around patients like Miss Pauling!" Turning around, Medic wagged a finger at the baboon. "Only the bad patients. Now!" He held up the papers and looked up at Miss Pauling. "I'll make some copies of these and send you on your way. Stay here."

Miss Pauling held out a hand to protest, but Medic was already hurrying out the door. She watched him leave before turning back to Aristotle, who continued to glare at her. Then, in a deep, masculine voice that was not Miss Pauling's, she said, "What are you staring at?"

Shrieking, Aristotle scampered up on top of the filing cabinet and hid behind a pigeon nest.

Sighing, Miss Pauling crossed her arms, looking around the lab as she waited. Hearing the door open, she spun around. "Thanks, Medi—" The word caught in her throat.

Sniper stared at her from the doorway, holding out the copies of the medical records. "Looking for these, ya bloody wanker?"

"Uh, hi, Sniper!" She gave a nervous grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Dragging you out before Medic gets back." With that, he grabbed Miss Pauling's wrist and yanked her toward the doors.

"Sniper, what—?!"

His head whipped back to look at her. "Medic nearly chased the real Miss Pauling out the door to hand her these. I offered to run them out to her myself." He rushed her out the med bay doors and further down the hall, taking a couple turns before he slowed.

Meanwhile, Spy's disguise faded as he yanked his sleeve away from Sniper's hand. "I hope you've been washing your hands," he grumbled, dusting his sleeve off.

"You're welcome." Sniper stopped, and turned to face him.

"Now..." Spy reached for the papers. "Hand them over, bushman."

Sniper held the papers further away. "Tell me what this is about first."

Spy glared. "You already know what this is about."

"Oh, I do. It's you I'm not so sure about."

Rolling his eyes, Spy made another grab for the papers, only for Sniper to hold them away again. "You heard what I told Miss Pauling. I'm on a mission to find out what's happened to Pyro, and you are currently withholding vital intelligence for said mission."

"Yeah, you keep tellin' yourself that," Sniper said, his voice low.

"What are you talking about?"

Sniper leaned in closer, and Spy leaned back. "Funny, ain't it, how the one you decide to buddy up with is the one who can't talk back. Can't ask you what's wrong, or what you're running away from."

Anger bolted down Spy's spine. "Are you accusing me of being a coward? You're the one who hides in one place for an entire match!"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Spy." Even with his sunglasses, it was clear that Sniper was glaring at him. "Don't you. Or d'you have it buried so deep you don't even remember what you're buryin' anymore?"

"Stop talking nonsense and give me the papers!" Spy growled, making another swipe for them.

This time, Sniper let him snatch the papers, and leaned back. "...You really don't know, do you?"

Quickly he folded the papers and shoved them into his inner coat pocket before they could be grabbed away again. "What?"

Sniper went quiet for a long moment, before shrugging and turning away. "Nothing. Guess maybe you'll have to dig it up on your own."

Spy glared after him, but he was already heading away. He wasn't going to be digging anything, thank you—not in his suit, anyway. Instinctively he dusted off his sleeve again and hurried back up to his room, where he hopefully wouldn't be bothered any further.

Once safely in his room, Spy whipped the papers out of his pocket, unfolded them, and sat at his desk to read them over. For a moment he was confused at Soldier's papers being at the top before he recalled he'd asked for three of the mercs' medical records to avoid suspicion. He set the pages aside, and his eyes brightened at seeing the Pyro's class logo printed on one of the pages. He'd read this one before, when he'd first sneaked into Medic's lab, but now he had free access to all the information he needed. Setting aside the first page, he looked at the second.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large text, reading:

DO NOT attempt to clean skin!!

Brows furrowed, he skimmed some of the writing after that, but there was no further information written on this point. Of course, he should have expected that—these were mainly for the Medic's reference, after all. Still, the other notes might prove useful. There was a recent date written, followed by more information:

Patient has submitted to a partial physical! Can be bribed with candy.

However, patient strongly resisted blood pressure and thyroid tests, likely due to recent trauma/shellshock. (Will try again later.)

"Goggles" seem to be a form of eyelid. Dense transparent lenses protect eyes beneath. Seems to be incapable of blinking.

Spy paused for a moment, and shuddered.

Heart rate elevated, though may or may not be due to anxiety. Normal heart rate unknown. More examination is necessary!

The notes on that page ended there, and Spy nearly crumpled them in frustration. Instead, he read them over again, his eyes drawn to the larger text once more. The previous page had noted the layer of soot coating Pyro's body, which Spy had witnessed himself. Could the soot be a protective layer? Or, perhaps, attempting to wash Pyro's skin resulted in injuring whatever poor sap attempted it. It did have a higher body temperature than normal—warm enough to burn someone, perhaps?

There was something there, he was sure. But what, he didn't know.

Sighing, he set the page aside, only to realize there was more beneath it.

Name: Jeremy—

Spy knocked a vial of ink over the papers, by complete accident and nothing more.

Some time later, he exited his room, and nearly bumped into the Pyro. Before he could stop himself, he held out the crumpled, ink-stained papers. "Here," he said. "Take these and burn them."

Pyro perked up and took the papers, but stared back at Spy, tilting its head.

Spy snorted. "How often does anyone give you kindling?"

Pyro stared at him a moment longer before turning back into its room, fishing its lighter out as it went. Spy watched it go, until it shut the door behind itself. With another sigh, he made his way down the stairs, only to stomp his foot on one of the steps.

That was his lighter!

#tf2 spy #tf2 pyro #tf2 sniper #miss pauling #team fortress 2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #my art #my writing #fanfic #flickering fanfic #OKAY! here's another chapter!#we've got three more after this

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deliciousangelfestival · 8 months

Note

A small head canon that I have for Cozy Secrets:

After the incident in the living room, Bucky's agency found several other potential places for him. Including apartments where he'd have the place entirely to himself. But he turned them all down because he wanted to stay near Y/N.

-Zombie

Thank you so much for the headcanon, my dear @thezombieprostitute. ❤️❤️❤️

The headcanon is based on this Cozy Secrets.

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Character: Spy!Bucky x Roommate!Female Reader

Here is the headcanon 💙💙💙

After Y/N's apartment got repaired, Bucky's agency offered him a new place to stay. Besides, his mission to watch their target was already done.

But Bucky said no. Because he likes staying in her apartment.

First, her apartment location is strategic. Not far from the train station, there are also a lot of cheap restaurants in the area, and her apartment is on the 5th floor. Bucky had enough living in the penthouse.

Because of her job as an interior designer, the apartment he staying in right now is cozy as fuck. It felt like home to him.

Before, he didn't understand what aesthetic meant, but when he watched the rain, sunrise, and sunset from the big window of his bedroom, he understood what it meant. He starts taking pictures.

He likes this place because it's clean too. And smells nice. In every corner of this apartment, Y/N put room essence.

There are a few times he shares an apartment with co-workers. They're messy and smell like cigarettes and alcohol. He can't talk much because, as a spy, they must keep everything secret. Because of the double or triple agent, Bucky must be careful with every word he says. With Y/N, he could talk about different topics; it made him remember that he's not just a spy.

The indoor plants make the room feel nice, too. Working as a spy, he never gardened. But now, he enjoys it. He helps Y/N take care of the indoor plants and water them.

If he lives alone, perhaps there's only a TV and a bed in his place. That's it.

And the coffee and brownies that Y/N made are just perfect. As a spy, he doesn't have the luxury of drinking comfortably. Usually, he will drink coffee at the coffee and watch his target. Y/N sometimes makes a lot of food, and she wants to share it with Bucky. His favorite is lasagna.

And the last thing Bucky felt anxious about, what if Y/N would have a male housemate in the future? He thinks that she will never have a better replacement than him. So, he decided to stay.

-I hope you guys like it-

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Chp 1 , Chp 2 , Chp 3 ,-

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns fanfiction #spy!bucky #roommate!bucky barnes

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/withahappyrefrain/720173390852456448?source=share

Saw that post and immediately thought about what a handsy-drunk Venus is. It's never anything PG though which Hangman can never figure out how it happens.

Like he'll be standing sober as the DD for the night, then he'll just feel Venus pinch his butt. Or she'll just stare at him for an alarming amount of time and before he can ask if he has anything on his face, she squeezes his chest with both hands.

Drunk Venus is the epitome of "I'm doing this on behalf of the girlies and the gays." A scientist, if you will

Jake looks across the crowd at the Hard Deck. It had been several hours and he knew things would be wrapping up soon.

It's not quiet by any means, but there is a distinct sound missing that puts Jake on high alert.

Venus.

Usually when Jake couldn't see her, he was still able to hear her. The sound of her singing along to whatever Bradshaw was playing, slightly off key but still absolutely endearing. Her laugh right before she began teasing Javy. Or her sweet voice nearly yelling "Hey ladies! Have ya met Bob?"

There wasn't any of that. Jake put his hands on his hips, scanning the bar in search of his fiancé. He was about to walk up to Penny when he felt a pinch on his ass, followed by a familiar giggle.

"V!" Jake could feel warmth flushing his cheeks as he turned around to face Venus.

She continued to giggle, her eyes glazed and her arms swaying slightly.

"How many shots did you take?" Jake asked immediately.

"Two? Maybe three? I had to loosen Bob up so he'd talk to the girl he's been staring at all night!" She defended, words only slightly slurred.

"And how's that going?"

"He's talking to her! Hopefully he doesn't throw up on her shoes like last time."

Hopefully Jake and Venus would be long gone if that did indeed happen again.

She took a step forward, a giggle escaping her mouth, "Hi Jake."

"Hi Venus," Jake smiled, gently placing his hands on her hips to steady her body.

"Did you know that my name means Venus? Like my actual name?" Jake did know. She had revealed that nugget of information the first time she got drunk around him.

"I do! It also means morning star, which is fitting because your beauty rivals the sunrise," He responded, reveling in how she bit her bottom lip, clearly flustered.

"You're so corny." She tried her best to say it with a straight face and failed adorably, a huge smile breaking out instead of her signature eye roll, "You're so fucking hot."

Jake had something witty, something flirty to say back. But all thoughts left his blonde head upon feeling her hands grab fistfuls of his ass through his kaki pants.

"Venus. Hey V-Danica!" He practically hissed as she continued her ministrations.

She simply looked up, resting her head on his chest. If it weren't for her previous actions, Venus would appear innocent.

Jake knew better.

"Are you trying to tell me it's time for us to go?" He couldn't help but chuckle. The change in her from when they first met to now was practically night and day. She was now comfortable to be herself around him.

"No, I just want to feel my fiancé's ass. Think of it as my way of repaying you for your patriotic duties, or whatever they call it," She explained.

"Well, as much as I love it when you repay me, I don't necessarily love the idea of getting honorable discharged for indecent behavior." Normally Jake could give less of a shit about PDA, he loved it when Venus felt more daring and open with affection. But the weight of his uniform had become all too present.

"Fine," Venus scoffed, "Even though it makes zero sense how the guy who shows off his tits every chance he gets when we go to the beach doesn't have an exhibitionism kink."

"I do not have a-Venus!" Jake cut himself off upon feeling her hands squeezing his chest.

"What? Your tits looked lonely, I can't let them think your ass is the favorite," she explained, as though it was perfectly reasonable.

"Alright, we're going home."

#my writing #jake hangman seresin #hangman fic #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #jake and venus

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wheels-of-despair · 1 year

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It's the Easter Dragon, Eddie Munson Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Just a big scary metalhead doing cute Easter-y things with Evil Woman and her family, nothing to see here. Contains: Easter fluff + She's Not A Regular Mom; She's A Cool Mom. Words: 2.7k-ish

"Nobody look, eyes closed, these bags do not contain things that are going in Easter baskets!"

You laugh and get up to close the door behind your mother, who's struggling to hold onto her top secret bags as she kicks off her shoes. Eddie watches curiously from the kitchen table.

"Look at you, pretending to be helpful so you can sneak a peek!" she jokes, turning to shield her loot from you.

"Hey lady, you pay the electric bill, if you want me to leave this open, I will," you threaten with the door still open a crack.

"Hello, Eddie, my favorite child, the only one who never talks back to me," your mother greets him, ignoring you. You close the door with a roll of your eyes.

"Hi," he laughs. "Can I help?"

"Nope, you stay your butt right there, I'm outta here."

Finally free of her shoes and done taunting the teenagers, she proceeds to her bedroom, where the candy will be stashed until Easter.

You return to the table, which is covered with open books and scribbled notes and an unreasonable amount of homework.

"Easter baskets?" Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Shut up," you say without looking at him, a hint of pink appearing on your cheeks.

"That's cute," he continues.

"Shut up," you repeat.

"I'm not making fun of you."

You look over at him, and determine that he's really not.

"I think it's cool," he shrugs in a way that makes you soften.

"Mom's a basket junkie. It's not just Easter. Baby shower? Gift basket. Retirement party? Gift basket. First period? Freakin' gift basket."

He smiles and turns back to his work, but the wheels in your overactive mind are already turning.

After the homework was finished and dinner was done, Eddie returned home to spend a little time with his uncle before work. (And bring him a plate, of course.)

You're lying on your bed with a book you're not reading when you see your mother walk through the hallway. You call out to her, and she comes back to pop her head in your open door.

"You rang?"

You bite your lip, your nerve faltering. It's not a big deal, you chicken. Just do it.

"Do you think… maybe… we could do an Easter basket for Eddie?"

"Why?"

You'd planned out a whole speech about why you suspected he hadn't had a real Easter in a long time, and why he'd be very appreciative, and how good he was to you, and how he really was your mother's favorite… and all of it went right out the window the second you were questioned.

"Relax, would you? He's taken care of."

"What?"

"You think I'd leave my favorite child out? Actually, I think every time one of you displeases me, I'll take a piece of candy out of your basket and put it in Eddie's."

"What?!" you hear your brother shriek from further down the hall. You and your mother both cackle. Fear not, Eddie Munson, the women of this household adore you.

Your mother was not much of a religious person, but Easter was her favorite holiday as a child, and she loved reliving some of those traditions each year.

Not the sunrise service, thankfully. She'd tried that a few times when you were little, and it proved to be much less fun when she was the adult wrangling the children, rather than one of the children being wrangled. She'd given up on that fantasy quickly.

These days, she settled for Easter baskets, her favorite holiday foods, and watching The Greatest Story Ever Told. She was the only person in the house who had ever made it all the way through it without falling asleep, but she didn't mind. Her offspring tried… occasionally.

By the time the youths had recovered from their morning sugar comas, brought on by her famous cinnamon buns and a pile of Easter candy, the real feast was usually underway in the kitchen. There was no room for experimentation on your mother's Easter menu: Ham, rolls, scalloped potatoes, green beans, dressing, deviled eggs, and a carrot cake for dessert.

She had cousins who always tried something strange, and had never forgiven them for tampering with her grandmother's carrot cake recipe. Everyone was expecting the familiar taste of childhood, and what they got was a mouth full of strange spices. And coconut icing instead of cream cheese? Blasphemy!

Now that her little trio had a few hundred miles separating them from the rest of their brood, she got to do things her way. Some might complain about being so far away from the bulk of their family on an occasion like this, but she didn't mind a bit.

She was looking forward to a nice, quiet, family affair. No nasty food-related surprises, no noisy toddlers screaming for attention or fighting over candy, no outrage over who said what or who brought an uninvited date or who's getting divorced. Just a calm and quiet day with her own children, and a shaggy-haired bonus kid.

You weren't sure how you did it, but you convinced Eddie to come over for breakfast on Easter morning.

Eddie Munson, out of bed before noon on a Sunday.

It was an Easter miracle.

He knocked on your door at 9:55.

Five whole minutes early.

He did not look happy about it.

"Good morning, sunshine!" you beam as you let him in. He grumbles and walks straight into you, resting his head on your shoulder like he's ready to fall asleep standing up.

"We have coffeeee," you tease quietly. He grunts.

"And sweet, gooey, freshly baked cinnamon bunssss," you continue. He licks the side of your neck, and you squirm away with a squeak.

"Sit, stay, gooood Eddie." You give him a gentle push toward the table and reach for a mug. Smiling sleepily, he drops into his usual chair. He puts his elbows on the table and rests his face in his hands, squishing his own cheeks adorably.

You fix his coffee how he likes it and bring the mug to the table, sitting close in case he falls over before the caffeine can work its magic. A minute later, your mom comes bustling in to check on her precious cinnamon buns.

"Good morning, Eddie, my favorite child. I'm honored that you got up so early to be here with us, that must've been very hard for you."

He chuckles into his mug. You sit silently by his side, both mesmerized by the sight of your mother whipping up a batch of icing in a measuring cup. Watching her magically turn a few basic ingredients into the best-tasting icing in the world never gets old. Especially when she begins pouring the liquified sugar onto the giant pan of perfectly golden brown cinnamon buns.

"Children, you're drooling on my table," your mother teases as she scrapes out the last of the icing with a spoon. "Saucers, please."

You get up and pull down a stack of saucers from the cabinet, placing them next to the pan that smells like heaven.

The aroma must be wafting through the house, because your brother stumbles into the kitchen blindly, still in his pajamas. He feels for his usual chair and sits down hard, sprawling his upper body across the table. Your mother carefully lifts out the first cinnamon bun and places it on a saucer. It nearly reaches the edges.

You give the first to Eddie, who is suddenly very awake. He looks from his massive cinnamon bun to you, and you give him a wink before returning to the stove. You bring the next one to your brother, still half-laying on the table, and accidentally put it so close to his face that it leaves a little icing on the tip of his nose. Finally, you retrieve yours and return to your seat next to Eddie. Your mother follows a second later, licking her fingers and carrying a saucer of her own.

"Eat up, Eddie. I only make these a few times a year. I'm amazed that these monsters agreed to share with you."

"I don't remember agreeing to that," your brother mumbles with his mouth full.

"Are you sure we can't revisit the No Familial Violence on Easter policy?" you ask.

"Nope, not today, but he's fair game tomorrow." He scoffs, and you smirk.

The boys each had seconds, and you split one with your mother. She collects everyone's saucers and walks them to the sink.

"Alright, it's go-time, they're in the living room," she says without turning around.

Your brother gets up and wanders into the next room. Eddie glances at the door and chugs the rest of his coffee like he's about to make a break for it. Before he can speak, you stand and extend a hand. He furrows his brow in confusion, and you tilt your head toward the living room. He hesitates, but reluctantly gets up and lets you guide him in.

Your brother is already digging into his haul on the floor, but there are two more heaping baskets on the coffee table.

You lead him toward the couch, where he begins to protest as soon as he sees his name. He turns to your mother, who followed you in.

"You really didn't have to--"

"I know. I wanted to."

"But you--"

"Eddie, it's not a big deal."

"But I'm not--"

"I told you, you're the best kid I've got."

He walks over and gives her a silent hug, which she returns.

You sit quietly and watch them, bursting with love for them both.

"Alright, I'm not used to all this genuine affection, go see what's in your dang basket."

Eddie laughs and lets her go, dropping onto the couch next to you. He pulls out each trinket and piece of candy like it's the best gift he's ever received. He seems exceptionally fond of the little stuffed dragon, which has been christened Sir Scorch.

Just a big scary metalhead sorting through his Easter basket. Nothing to see here.

After all the little treasures were discovered and your brother was barreling toward a sugar coma, your mom put her favorite Easter movie into the VCR. You began thinking about your forthcoming nap.

Eddie fought it, but eventually drifted off after about an hour.

Your mother was very impressed.

"Anybody wanna dye Easter eggs?"

You and Eddie both jolt awake at the same time. Your mom stands in the doorway, drying her hands on a kitchen towel.

"Really, Mom?"

"I missed it," she shrugs. "I'll do it myself if you don't want to help."

You look at Eddie and cock an eyebrow. He bites his bottom lip, looking unsure.

"C'mon," you say with a grin. You get up and walk over to your brother, still snoring on the floor, and nudge him with your foot.

"Get up doofus, we're dyeing eggs." He grunts and rolls over. You shrug and continue toward the kitchen, Eddie walking uneasily behind you.

Your mom has set up an egg-dyeing station: newspaper covering the table, six little cups of dye, a box of crayons, and a bowl full of boiled eggs. You and your brother had lost interest in this particular activity years ago, but you have a pretty good idea why it was suddenly back.

"Eddie, have you dyed eggs recently?" she asks, putting on her glasses and reaching for a green crayon.

"Not since I was a little kid," he admits, still standing awkwardly behind you.

"Come on, we'll show you how it's done." She finishes her drawing and drops the egg into the green dye.

You and Eddie sit at the table, and you reach for two eggs. You hand him one, and he takes it hesitantly. As you're trying to think of a way to explain this without making him feel bad about having no idea what he was doing, your mom reaches for one of the little egg dippers. Each kit only came with one, so she saved them every year.

She pulls an egg out of the pink dye with "Easter 1985" written on it in crayon. Eddie's eyes widen. She carefully places it in the empty egg carton, lined with a paper towel, to dry.

"Two down, twenty-two to go. Hop to it, kiddos. No curse words!" She points an accusing finger at you, causing a mischievous grin, then slides the box of crayons toward Eddie. He's still looking a little intimidated.

"Hand me the white?" you ask. He picks it out and gives it to you, watching as you write a quick, invisible message on your egg before dropping it into the pink dye.

"What's first: A Corroded Coffin egg, or a Hellfire Club?" you suggest, handing him the crayon. Eddie's eyes light up, and his face splits into a grin. He leans over and gets to work, cradling the egg with his left hand and letting the creativity flow with his right.

You look up, and your mom catches your eye. She winks, and focuses on her next egg.

"You're not gonna make us wear bunny-ear headbands and hunt for these, are you?" you jokingly ask after a few minutes of silence.

"Heck no! I'm packing these in my lunch next week, you're not taking them outside and getting them all dirty!"

You and Eddie both laugh.

"Wish I'd thought to buy bunny ears, though. I bet Eddie would look awfully cute in them."

He hunches over his egg, trying to hide his scarlet face with his hair, so he didn't see the adoring look you and your mother shared.

After the egg-stravaganza was cleaned up, it was nearly time for dinner. Most of the prep work had been done the day before, so it was mostly a heat-and-serve situation. Your mom was not a fan of doing more work than she had to on holidays.

Eddie's uncle was quite the opposite. The plant was always desperate for people to work the holiday shifts, and Wayne Munson always stepped up. Wayne took every holiday double-shift he could, so he and Eddie rarely saw each other at all on special occasions; they usually celebrated everything the day after. It broke your heart to think of all the holidays Eddie had probably been on his own, but now that he was yours, he'd never spend one alone again.

You'd been with him for over six months when you'd invited him to come over for Easter, and he'd still shyly asked if you were sure you wanted him to crash a family holiday. "You ARE family," you'd told him. You hoped that today had banished those thoughts from his twisted little brain for good. He's family. Your mom said so.

Dinner was perfect. You'd been stuck at the kids' table with annoying cousins for most of your young life, so this lineup was ideal. The Holiday A-Team. The meal was full of laughter and memories. Your mom told stories about dressing you and your brother in matching outfits when you were little, and the last time she tried taking you heathens to a sunrise service, and you finally revealed how a raw egg found its way into your least favorite aunt's fancy new purse. (She yelled at your baby brother. She deserved it.)

Eddie didn't volunteer any information about his early Easters, but that was okay. He enjoyed himself, and laughed until he cried when your mom broke out the album containing all the obligatory Mall Photo with the Easter Bunny photos.

She sent him home that night loaded down with so many Tupperware containers, he needed a bag to carry them all. There were two more cinnamon buns, a sack of colored eggs, and enough Easter leftovers to make a meal or two for him and Uncle Wayne the next day. He insisted that she didn't need to send so much, but you know he loved being fed as much as she loved feeding him.

Maybe next Easter, you could convince him to put on bunny ears.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x easter #*sigh* i just want him to have a happy everything #if the egg thing is unclear: he's dyed eggs before. just never thought of using crayons.#these images were sized for a side-by-side but i've been fighting with tumblr about it all fucking day and it insists on moving them #they're where they're supposed to be when the draft is open!#i give up #tumblr you miserable bitch!

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cainluvr69 · 11 months

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Main Story 2 Chapter 20 - The Willingness to Lead (Second Half)

Previous Chapter

6 - In The Truest Sense

Heathcliff was covered in deep cuts. He was all wrapped up in bandages and gauze, and here and there, I could see blood or medicine staining them. He was a kindhearted nobleman, but right now, the only perfume he had was the iron scent of blood and the aroma of bitter medicinal herbs. That something could have happened to put someone as gentle and humble as him in this state made my heart clench painfully in my chest.

Akira: Heath… I'm so glad you were able to come home alive… The fact that Faust and Nero are still with us is all thanks to you and Shino… …I really can't thank you enough…

Heathcliff: Master Sage…

I bowed my head, and Heath shoved himself up, looking rather disoriented. Shino pushed him back into bed without a word, and then starting checking him for bandages that needed changing and medication that needed to be reapplied. Heath was more precious to Shino than anything. He didn't have to say anything for me to know how angry he was that this had happened to him. Heath inhaled sharply, the pain of being tended to getting to him, and he shook his head weakly.

Heathcliff: No, I didn't do anything… I don't think I helped at all. I barely remember anything that happened.

Hearing he couldn't remember what he'd done made my heart skip a beat. Because of Heath's injury from <the Great Calamity>, he sometimes transformed into a black panther-like beast. He didn't know that himself, though. I was worried that exactly that had happened to him last night. But Shino spoke, his expression unchanging.

Shino: You were brave.

Heathcliff: Is that true…?

Shino: Yeah. Faust said so too. He told me "You've got quite the brave master."

Heathcliff: Mr. Faust did…?

Shino smiled, looking into Heath's eyes.

Shino: You faced our foe more fearlessly than anyone.

Heathcliff: I did…?

Shino: You did. I'll tell you what happened once you're done healing. I'll tell you everything…

Though he said that, he rubbed one of his pinkies nervously, like he wasn't sure he could actually do that. But when he looked at Heath again, his hesitation faded, and he closed his eyes. And then he reached out, a little awkwardly, and hugged Heath to him, making sure he didn't touch any of his injuries.

Shino: There's nothing I'm scared of more than you turning into stone. I promise, Heath. I will protect you.

Heath's blue eyes widened. That was the promise that they'd already exchanged many years ago. Instead of connecting them, it had chained them. It had been a twisted and malformed vow. Outside the window, the morning sky was starting to get brighter. The brilliant red glow of sunrise was layered over the the clear and solemn azure of night. These colors, those of eternity, were the same as those of their eyes. Heath smiled, the morning sun illuminating his golden hair.

Heathcliff: I'll protect you too, Shino.

Shino started to smile back and promptly burst into tears. That startled Heathcliff so much he almost slipped off the bed. Sunbeams spread over the floor, clear and bright. My heart felt full, and I tried to even out my shaky breathing. Then, the door opened.

Lennox: Master Sage. Your room is ready. Please get some rest. I'll stand guard for you.

Akira: Ah…

I wanted to hide Shino's tears from anyone else, so I hurried out of the room.

✦✧☾✧✦

Before going to the room that he'd prepared for me, Lennox and I stepped outside the manor. From the moment I'd taken my first step into that building, I'd felt something strange deep in my chest, like I was being suffocated. I felt like if I was alone in a room somewhere with Lennox right now, I was going to start sobbing. I didn't want to worry him pointlessly when his master Faust was lying unconscious.

Akira: Thank you. I just wanted to get a little fresh air…

Lennox: Not a problem.

Akira: Lennox, how are your injuries…?

Lennox: I'm fine. I can always be confident in my durability, at least.

He smiled gently at me. But he didn't step through the manor door. Maybe he thought I wanted some time to myself.

Lennox: I can keep watch from here. The Sacrificium is with you, too.

As if in response to hearing Lennox talk about it, Saku-chan poked its nose up.

Lennox: If anything happens, I'll come running.

I didn't know how to respond. I reached out and put one of my hands to his chest. Ever since I'd come to this world, I'd always been able to feel his kind, gentle gaze watching over me.

Akira: …Leno. Thank you for everything you do for me.

The morning light hung in the air around us like mist that wasn't quite rain. And in that gentle glow, Lennox smiled at me proudly.

Lennox: Of course. It's my duty, after all.

✦✧☾✧✦

Akira: …

I walked outside the building with Saku-chan on my shoulder. The wind caught my hair, blowing it around my head. After making sure Lennox couldn't see anything but my back, I could finally let the weakness start to show on my face. The beauty of the morning light, the blue of the sky, and the brightness of the sun were all wonderful, joyous things. I loved all of the Sage's wizards very much. I had wanted to become friends with them all. At the same time, I was completely terrified. I was completely terrified of the weight of their desires to fulfill their duties and be of use to me. I was terrified that it was my fault they'd gotten hurt. I was terrified of taking on such a heavy burden. My hands were already full with my own life and my own feelings. I couldn't shoulder those of others, too. And yet… I heard a voice from the depths of my heart. I want to bear their feelings. I want to become someone who can bear their feelings. I suddenly noticed Saku-chan staring at me. Its adorable little eyes were making my heart start to waver. I was terrified of my heart wavering. I was terrified of getting hurt because I'd lost something that had become important to me.

Akira: …oh, Saku-chan…

I picked Saku-chan up with both hands and hugged it tightly to my chest. Saku-chan was the twins' familiar. One day, it would lose its life in place of mine. It was a substitute. It looked like one of my beloved cats, but it wasn't a cat. But still…

Akira: I love you, I love you… Saku-chan, I love you so much. I love you, Saku-chan. …sniff…I'm sorry for how I acted until now. I'm sorry I ever pretended that I don't love you… …I love you…I love you so much… I'm so glad you were with me… …sniff. I'm so glad I met you…

Saku-chan nuzzled my cheek, like it was sleepy. And then I felt someone else there. I looked up from my shoes--ones that used to be unfamiliar, but now were. Bradley was standing in front of me.

Bradley: …

He stood in the sun with his rifle in one arm, watching me. Bradley smiled gently, and touched my cheek with one hand. He wiped away my tears with his thumb. He said nothing, the gesture somehow rough, messy, and gentle all at once. It made even more tears I didn't want to be crying roll down my cheeks, my back shaking as I cried. Saku-chan's fur got all icky and wet. What was different about this morning? What changed? I didn't know how to put it in words. But something had most definitely changed. Something inside of me. It was like the phenomenon the shard of Murr's soul had talked about in the Royal Botanical Gardens. If your perspective changes, so does the world. I'd come from a different world, little more than a visiting foreigner. I probably… I think that I had, in the truest sense of the word, become a "sage". I had become a sage prepared to truly lead them.

✦✧☾✧✦

Rutile: …Mitile… Mitile, Riquet, it's morning.

Mitile: Mn…

Riquet: …Morning…

Mitile: …mgh, morning! We need to go save Dr. Figaro…

Mithra: <Arthim>

Rutile: Mithra…

Mithra: … Oz. I'm going to let you travel with me, as a special gift.

Oz: That is unnecessary. It is past dawn. <Vox…>

Riquet: Ah…! Lord Arthur! And Cain!

Cain: Riquet! Oz! …? Who else is here…?

Mitile: Lord Arthur, Cain! It's Mitile! My brother and Mithra are here, too!

Rutile: Sorry for not meeting you at the inn! It's a good thing we met by chance here!

Arthur: …Lord Oz…

Oz: …Arthur… Hm…?

Snow & White: Heeeey!

Snow: Oz! We felt your presence!

Oz: Snow, White…

White: Yesterday was terrible! We need you to help a Western wizard by the name of Sylves… Mithra! Where did you go?! We were waiting for you for ages at the theater!

Mithra: It'd be a pain to explain, so just come with me. <Arthim>

✦✧☾✧✦

Shylock: I'm glad to hear Nero regained consciousness, even if he did fall asleep again right after… This should put Master Sage and the Eastern wizards' hearts at rest, even if just a little.

Murr: Hey, Shylock! Doesn't it feel like Rustica's around here somewhere?

Shylock: It does, rather… I believe Rustica stayed with Chloe in the Royal Botanical Gardens, but…

Murr: That tower's super suspicious! I'm gonna go take a peek inside!

Shylock: Be careful, Murr. We've been being watched since the moment we arrived here. Especially the two of us…

Murr: Sure seems that way. They wanna know if we know what's up or if we don't even more than they wanna know if the Northern wizards do. What if we're plotting something! Anyways, I'm going! If I find Rustica, praise me lots!

Shylock: …

Murr: Shyyyylock!

Shylock: I'm not here to grade you. You should do as you like, according to your own whims…

Murr: And what, precisely, would those whims be?

Shylock: Murr…

Murr: You, too, are a wizard. Obeying your own whims so as to control the strange power at your fingertips is only natural.

Shylock: …

Murr: Though I never expected that your heart would desire a me this adorable.

Shylock: …Murr! Please investigate the state of that tower. Please.

Murr: Kaaaay!

Murr: Oh my. How surprising.

Shylock: …What is?

Murr: That you who so adores individuality aren't the type to be a harsh critic, and in fact shy away from something that does receive harsh criticism.

Shylock: …What do you mean by that?

Murr: If you were a potter instead of a bartender, you'd be trying to destroy that irregular Murr by smashing him to pieces. That's how it looks to me. Is that me perhaps a failure?

Shylock: …

Murr: Ah.

Shylock: What is it now? Is there something in the sky…

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: I didn't meet any of the others all the way to the City of Fortune… Uu, if I don't land soon, I'm going to run out of magic… I wonder if that's the royal palace… Well, it is the biggest building I can see around here. Oh, but, if I just go waltzing on into the place where the King lives, they're going to get soooo mad at me… Ah… Something just touched my hand. Shylock! Murr!

✦✧☾✧✦

Shylock: Chloe! I'm glad you're safe…

Murr: Shylock! Rustica's in the room at the very top of that tower, fast asleep!

Shylock: So Rustica is here… Thank you, Murr.

Murr: I found Rustica! Aren't I great? Praise me, praise me!

Shylock: …

Murr: Boo. Why won't you say anything to me? Why are you only talking to that other me? I'm really hating it!

Murr: Do you think that envy and desire for praise has always been part of my subconscious? Or is it the result of the upbringing you gave him?

Shylock: …Please don't ask me things like that right now. I'll go mad.

Murr: Oh, I wanna see that!

Murr: My, as would I.

Shylock: Chloe! Land here, quickly, please!

✦✧☾✧✦

Rutile: This should be enough to put you at ease for now… Thank you for your hard work, Dr. Figaro!

Figaro: And thank you for yours, Rutile.

Rutile: I'll prepare some tea. You should get some rest while you can, too.

Figaro: Thanks. … It's been a long day… Ah, right. Rutile…

Oz: …

Figaro: Oz.

Oz: This is…

Figaro: Ah, my button. Did Leno… Did Rutile give you that?

Oz: That is correct.

Figaro: You got my button, and didn't even come looking for me? You're so heartless.

Oz: …

Figaro: Oh, that's right. You can't use your magic at night. We've gotta find a fix for that fast…

Oz: …Your neck.

Figaro: My neck?

Oz: There are traces of healing magic around your neck.

Figaro: Ah… Don't worry about it. I'll be dealing with it.

Oz: Were the artificial wizards so formidable as to do that to you?

Figaro: Artificial wizards?

Oz: That is what the Sage called them. Those which attacked the Eastern wizards were artificial wizards, developed by Murr.

Figaro: That man's such a nightmare… But, no, it wasn't an artificial wizard that got me. But Oz… I don't think I'm as strong as I used to be anymore.

Oz: Meaning?

Figaro: No, that's all. Thanks for returning my button.

Oz: … Do not resign yourself to this.

Figaro: Huh? Um… What?

Oz: I am attempting to sympathize. Do not give up without first consulting others.

Figaro: … …Okay… Haha… I think you might be right…

✦✧☾✧✦

Arthur: …I see… How could something like this happen…

Cain: I'm glad all of the Eastern wizards are still alive…

Akira: I'm glad all of the Central wizards are okay, too…

Cain: Akira, we'll protect you and all of our injured comrades. Please rest as long as you need to.

Akira: Thank you… You all should rest too when you can.

Cain: You got it. …But hey, isn't this building on the grounds of the West's royal palace? Bringing us somewhere like this all of a sudden is pretty, well…

Akira: Royal palace?! By royal palace, you mean where the king lives, like Granvelle Castle…?

Arthur: Yes. Over there would be the Messier Palace.

Akira: You're right… I didn't even notice… …What a big palace… Then I wonder what this building is for? It seems like it was built fairly recently, but…

Arthur: … Is it not another Magic Manor?

Akira: Magic Manor…?

Arthur: Yes.

Cain: That's true… There's twenty individual rooms, and it's a bit too classy to be barracks. I can see how it resembles the manor we have back in Central. But why would there be another manor on the grounds of the Western royal palace…?

Akira: … A Western manor…

7 - Western Country's New Queen

High-ranked Official: His majesty the King is dead…! His majesty, Albert Mastandrea, has passed away. The next in line for the throne is Lady Liliana… For her to become Queen…

✦✧☾✧✦

Liliana: … Send a letter of invitation to each country at once. We are inviting them to my coronation ceremony.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chamberlain: So it even got his majesty… Just what in the world is happening to the royal family…? And is the daughter of the Cortes family really suited for a role as important as that of the Queen…?

Chamberlain: Shh, say things like that more quietly…! You're being rude to the new Queen!

✦✧☾✧✦

Vincent: So the King of Western Country has passed…

Drummond: It seems very sudden… He was in wonderful health only last year…

Vincent: It seems the daughter of the Cortes family, Princess Liliana, will be ascending the throne as Western Country's new Queen. We have received an invitation to her coronation. Though it is quite an honor, Central Country will be unprotected in my absence.

Drummond: As you say, but…

Vincent: Have Arthur accept on our behalf.

Drummond: …That I shall…

Vincent: Your expression isn't convincing me. Call him here at once.

Drummond: …Lord Vincent, you have often accepted invitations from the Western royal family in the name of deepening relations between our countries. While I admire your generosity in extending an invitation to such a prestigious event to Prince Arthur…

Vincent: Just say what you're trying to say.

Drummond: Would sending Prince Arthur not incur the antagonism of those who desired your presence in his place?

Vincent: You needn't worry about that. Arthur was invited not as the crown prince of Central Country, but as a Sage's wizard.

Drummond: …Are you expecting all of the Sage's wizards to be in attendance at Western Country's new queen's coronation…?

Vincent: Correct.

Drummond: Does the Western royal family…know anything about the Northern wizards…?

Vincent: …

Drummond: Would it not be appropriate to inform them? The feasts after the ordination ceremony could easily turn into chaos… And that could easily include the coronation. I've heard stories of bird bones caught in the ceiling chandeliers…

Vincent: The West has a different aim here. In the past, I would have approved of it. It's a good opportunity to get rid of our misfortune.

Drummond: Western Country's aim…?

Vincent: The West plans to take the Sage's wizards for their own… No, they wish to welcome them. I do not know if they're afraid of the power Oz and the Northern wizards hold, or if they sincerely want to welcome them. As the Minister of Magic Management, what do you think? Why would Western Country, the birthplace of magical technology, want the Sage's wizards so close at hand?

Drummond: …I do not know. But the Sage's wizards will… Ah… They will fight in the name of saving the world, as the heroes of salvation. Our planet is in a crisis. I have read the reports they have sent in, and there are terrifying abnormalities cropping up all over the continent. This is a time for Central and West to cooperate with one another without heed for national borders. It is only he who can unite the continent in such cooperation who may call himself the conquerer of the world.

Vincent: …

Drummond: And in the oh-so-slight chance that the Western government is not hoping for the salvation of the world… Then they must seek to control the Sage's wizards for their own self-interest. Should we not be taking the initiative to ensure their protection?

Vincent: …I suppose that is true… There is merit in what you say. I will take it into consideration, Drummond.

Drummond: Sir! Thank you very much!

Vincent: Minister of Magic Management, Drummond. As the representative of Central Country's ministry of magic entrusted with operation of the Magic Manor… Leave for Western Country at once, and assist Arthur and the Sage's wizards in attendance at the coronation as they require of you.

Drummond: I, Drummond, accept this command with all of my heart!

✦✧☾✧✦

Cock Robin: This coronation is being done in such a rush. No matter how many elevators we have, isn't this asking a bit much?

Drummond: Don't complain, Cock Robin. Though as you say, it does seem rather hasty.

Cock Robin: Right?

Drummond: Mm… Normally, the national funeral of his Majesty the deceased would take much more time. It would be far more courteous than this.

Cock Robin: Do you think they're worried that with such a young princess ascending the throne, their neighboring countries won't attend?

Drummond: Don't say things like that so carelessly! By neighboring countries, you mean us. Please be more careful with what you say.

Cock Robin: R-right…

Bard: From the West blows a new wind~ Each era of resplendence and gaiety shall always~ Be born in Western Country's gentle embrace~

Central Citizen: Hey now, that isn't the kind of song you should be singing when you come to Central, is it? Even if the West is doing awful well for itself these days. I wonder how much the Western merchants are making?

Bard: Ah, no, this is a song that's been popular all through the continent for ages… It's not like it was written recently…

Drummond: …How surprising. Our sociable Central populace is beginning to hold animosity for Western Country.

Cock Robin: It's because Western's wealth and technical prowess outclasses all other countries. I hope things go well under their new Queen, but…

✦✧☾✧✦

Faust: …mn…

Lennox: …

When I opened my eyes, Lennox was waiting for me. I looked at what I could see of the sky through the gap in the curtains over the window, and tried to estimate the time. The brightly shining sun was high in the sky. It was probably just a bit past noon.

Faust: Shino…

My throat was horribly dry. All I had to swallow was my spit, and my words piled on top of one another, all racing to get out of my mouth.

Faust: How's Shino? Nero's badly hurt. And Heath…

Lennox: Everyone is okay. Nero still needs rest, but Shino and Heath are both up and moving.

Faust: Is that right…

Lennox: They asked me to call them when you woke up, Lord Faust. Is that alright with you?

Lennox held out a flask of water to me. I tried to lift my head, but my body was so heavy I couldn't move. Lennox lifted my head and held the flask to my lips. This was a common event, back in the day. It was so familiar that it didn't feel awkward at all to have him do it, and after drinking some water, the fog around my head started to clear. I laughed, still feeling a little delirious. How many times had I told him we had nothing to do with each other now, or that I didn't need him anymore? And yet he was still taking care of me, the way that he always had.

Faust: You saved me.

Lennox: I didn't do anything.

I looked up at Lennox's face. Even though he looked fierce and unfriendly, his clear red eyes always held a kind of innocence in them. Lennox closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. Once again, I've caused him untold amounts of worry. I reached a hand out to him, and he took it, clutching it tightly. He really knows everything I'm going to do. Holding hands like this made a rush of memories from the past flood my mind. He was still as warm as he always was. Standing with Lennox on the battlefield has always made me feel an odd swell of confidence. I could trust him with my back entirely. I was happy to only need to face what was in front of me. That's how it was back then.

Faust: …Where are we?

Lennox: In a building near Western Country's Messier Palace. All of us have been gathered here.

Faust: Everyone? You mean every single one of the Sage's wizards?

Lennox: Yes. It seems Western Country's new Queen wants us to attend her coronation. She wishes for us to stay here until that day comes.

Faust: …I feel like I'm missing something.

Lennox: A lot has happened very fast…

Faust: Where's Lord Figaro? He was the one who saved my life, was he not?

Lennox raised his eyebrows. For a moment, I'd started speaking the way I had back then, too. While I tried to play it off as nothing, Lennox just laughed, his shoulders shaking. Seeing his smile made me feel at peace, too.

Faust: I need to thank him. Without any of my usual impertinence in response to his unending amiability…

Lennox: I don't think Lord Figaro would mind either way. He would be just be happy instead.

Faust: Happy?

Lennox: Although I'm not sure exactly why, he seems to enjoy being treated roughly.

Faust: …

Lennox: Did I say something wrong?

Faust: The two of you have gotten awfully close, haven't you.

Lennox: I suppose… How should I put it. It's because of you.

I'd seen the two of them having friendly conversations with one another countless times at the manor. Although it was always heartwarming to spectate, the two of them had become people I no longer knew when they did. I didn't know what their everyday selves were now. In their everyday world, they seemed to have been able to forgive one another. I had no desire to intrude upon them and their friendly conversations. I'd just break them into pieces. Or maybe I was getting ahead of myself, coming to a conclusion like that. I felt so lost and alone. I didn't know how I should approach them, now that they were both Southern wizards.

Faust: Leno… Why did Figaro abandon us? Have you ever asked him why he did that?

Lennox: I have. But I think it would be better for you to ask him about it yourself, Lord Faust. It would make for a good life lesson for him.

Hearing Leno say something so disrespectful and patronizing made my eyes go wide. He awkwardly glanced away.

Lennox: My apologies… For saying something about the person who taught you, Lord Faust.

Faust: No, it's fine. He's your friend now.

We both felt a bit awkward about the state of our long and complicated relationship. We stared at each other for a moment, and then all of a sudden, we both smiled at each other. Lennox silently held my hand. His hands were big and strong.

Lennox: …I'm so glad you're okay…

I said nothing and simply pulled his hand towards me, pressing it to my cheek. His hand was so large his fingers ran all the way up to my forehead.

Faust: I must have worried you… You've always rushed to my side for anything I needed. Thank you, truly, for everything you've done for me.

Lennox's smile radiated happiness. And, just a little bit, I saw the part of his smile that wasn't such a hit with anyone else.

Faust: …What's wrong?

Lennox: It's nothing. You don't need to worry about it.

Faust: I don't mind. Say it.

Lennox: I'd gotten used to looking for you.

I had no idea how to respond. He'd just spoken about the weight of four hundred long years with all the lightheartedness of an inside joke. Lennox cleared his throat, his expression changing.

Lennox: My apologies. I should go call Shino and the others.

Faust: Yeah. Thanks.

8 - The Critical Situation Continues

Nero: …

Shino: I'm back.

Nero: Oh, nice. How's Teach doin'?

Shino: Normal…

Nero: No such thing as normal right now. …Ahh…

Shino: …

Nero: Well, I'm glad to know Teach is gonna pull through.

Shino: Don't look away from me like that. …I'm not gonna cry or anything.

Nero: I know, I know. You've had red eyes from birth, yep.

Shino: I was worried about you.

Nero: You just wanted to see my face. Since this whole "complete bed rest" thing means I don't get to move for three days.

Shino: That's because you almost died. You should listen to your doctor's orders. What book is that?

Nero: It's one Heath was readin' to me earlier.

Shino: Hmph. Good for you. Cheater.

Nero: Hehe, I get special treatment for bein' injured. Heath's great at readin' aloud. It's like I can see the scenes right in front of me…

Shino: I know, right.

Nero: Listenin' to the story's soapboxin' about ethics hurt my ears, though.

Shino: I know, right. I used to do terrible things to survive, too. But, somehow… Even though it's a pretty self-centered story… I felt like I'd made amends. Just a little.

Nero: For what y' did this time?

Shino: Yeah…

Nero: You did some amazin' work out there. You should be proud of yourself.

Shino: Haha, you didn't even see any of it. …Yeah, you're wrong. It's not like I'm trying to get you to compliment me.

Nero: Oh? You're sure? Where's the begging for lemon pie?

Shino: That's different. I'll do that later. But what I wanted to say right now is… You too, Nero.

Nero: …

Shino: I just knew you were a good-for-nothing somehow. Because you have the same scent that I do. But you're an upstanding guy. You protected Heath. You're nice to Riquet and Mitile. Who cares about morals or ethics or whatever. The law put me in a sweatshop. Somewhere I had to fight for soup they didn't even give us utensils for. But you gave me big bowls of soup. And it was warm. Even if it didn't make me grow any taller, but.

Nero: You'll see the results here on out.

Shino: Then I'll still need more of it. …Don't try to die, Nero. Because I still need you.

Nero: … He's gone… He's pretty damn good at getting what he wants from people… One wrong move and I would've made myself his underling. Ahaha, you hear that?

Bradley: Yeah, who's good at doin' what?

Nero: …

Bradley: How ya doin'?

Nero: …Pretty okay.

Bradley: Izzat right.

Nero: Did you come here for that talk?

Bradley: Huh?

Nero: …You said you needed to talk to me.

Bradley: Ah, yeah… We can do that after you're all better.

Nero: Let's do it now. You wanna deal with me, don't you? I get it. You've more than got the right to turn me to stone.

Bradley: …

Nero: But… Can y' at least wait 'til <the Great Calamity> hits? Once we're done beatin' it back, you can turn me to stone with your own hands.

Bradley: …hmph… You love sayin' whatever you want. But y'know what, Nero? You already ran away from me once. What makes you think I can trust what you say?

Nero: I promise.

Bradley: …

Nero: Once we're done fightin' <the Great Calamity>, you can execute me…

Bradley: Don't fuck with me, you stupid bastard…!

Nero: …

Bradley: … …First, you need to finish healin' up. We're only talkin' after that.

Nero: … Gotcha, Brad.

Bradley: Yeah…

Nero: … But, well.. You n' Mithra sure have been quiet since comin' here.

Bradley: …

Nero: I saw Owen earlier, too. Seems like Oz dragged him here.

Bradley: For that coronation thing, I bet.

Nero: Yeah, for that. Ain't this on the grounds of the Western royal palace? None of you are the type to be nice 'n quiet just because someone asked you to.

Bradley: … Honestly, I underestimated them.

Nero: Huh?

Bradley: I said, "Honestly, I underestimated them." I completely underestimated what they meant when they called the City of Fortune the City of Lust.

Nero: What's that mean…?

Bradley: …I'm on the brink of givin' in.

Nero: What's that mean?!

Bradley: That's why I'm tellin' you to heal up good. I'm relyin' on your return.

Nero: …Yeah, I get it… So that's it…

Bradley: It's getting pretty damn dire.

Nero: Are you serious? You and your damn one track mind…

✦✧☾✧✦

Servant: Thank you for waiting, Sage's wizards. Here is this evening's meal.

Snow & White: Waah…!

Mithra: Oh… This is venison, isn't it?

Owen: Hmmmm. And cream cake.

Servant: Not just any cream cake. Under the cream is a rainbow of differently-colored fruits.

Owen: Mhm.

Servant: And beneath the fruits is a layer of high-class chocolate cream.

Owen: Mhm.

Servant: And beneath that layer of cream is sponge cake with fragrant roast nuts baked into it.

Owen: Mhm.

Servant: And at the very bottom is a layer of biscuit. Please, enjoy.

Owen: Well then, let's try a bite.

Mithra: Is something going to come out of this venison steak when I cut it?

Servant: Venison steak is venison steak, sir.

Mithra: Excuse me? Even though I'm stronger than Owen?

Servant: Once you've finished with the venison steak, we have roasted pheasant thighs to serve you.

Mithra: Sounds good. Make the bottom layer all shellfish.

Servant: As you wish. Please wait for just a moment. While you wait, please enjoy this performance. This is the newest performance choreographed for the palace's dancers, prepared just for today.

Dancer Girl: O Sage's wizards, we would like to perform a dance for you all, extolling the virtues of the Northern wizards.

Mithra: Huh.

Owen: Hmm.

Snow: How lovely!

White: It's a dance for how amazing we are!

Dancer Girl: Now let us present our first piece. The World's Strongest Wizard, Oz.

Owen & Mithra: Hah?

Snow: Change it, change it!

White: Make it about these children instead!

Dancer Girl: My sincerest apologies. Let us try again… Presenting The World's Strongest These Children!

Snow & White: Yaaaay!!

Mithra: Huh… Chomp chomp.

Owen: Hmm… Munch munch.

Bradley: Woah… You pigs really made yourselves at home…

Mithra: If fere'f a froflef fif fhaf?

Bradley: I can't understand what you're saying, man.

Mithra: Sigh…

Bradley: The only thing I'm gettin' is you're mocking me.

Snow & White: These churros are soooo gooood!

Snow: This one's been decorated so cutely!

White: It's aaaalmost a shame to eat it!

Snow & White: But we'll stiiiill eat it!

Owen: Fufu… No matter how much I eat, they still bring me more sweet things. I don't hate Western Country's royal palace.

Mithra: It's better than Central Country's.

Bradley: For cryin' out loud, you got yourselves defanged by all this. You call yourselves Northern wizards?

White Beard and Glasses Servant: Lord Bradley Bain of the Sage's wizards! We've been awaiting your arrival! With the advice you gave us regarding spices yesterday, we've prepared a new mix for you today! We call this the Golden Fried Chicken!

Bradley: …

Mithra: It looks delicious.

Owen: It really does. You aren't going to eat it?

Snow: It looks delicious from our angle, too!

White: If you're not planning on eating it, then perhaps we will take a bite first…

Bradley: Hold it. Don't get ahead of yourselves, grandpas. Yo, guy with the white beard.

White Beard and Glasses Servant: Yes!

Bradley: Gimme one of those.

White Beard and Glasses Servant: Here you are. Please, enjoy your meal!

Bradley: Munch…! … Hoo… Damn, that's good…

White Beard and Glasses Servant: It's an honor to hear that, sir!!

Bradley: Now get me some booze. Eatin' this with some cold beer would really hit the spot.

White Beard and Glasses Servant: Understood! I shall assemble an array of the best spirits in all of the West!

Snow: What to pick, what to pick… The fried chicken is nice and crisp!

White: It's crisp and nice! All the different spices work together so well, it really is a golden flavor~!

Bradley: Western Country…really gets it, huh…

Mithra: Western Country really get it.

Owen: They really get it here in the West.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: Hey, let me see Rustica! He's in this tower, isn't he? Murr told me!

Servant: Yes, of course. I will announce your arrival presently.

Chloe: You said that yesterday too, and I ended up waiting the whole day for nothing! I got sick of waiting and flew up on my broom to try and sneak a peek, but I didn't see anything…

Servant: I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. By the way, Lord Collins. Your talent with a needle has no equal, and I'd like to put my faith in you with just one requet…

Chloe: Request?

Servant: Would you consider becoming Messier Palace's exclusive designer?

Chloe: Designer…?!

Servant: If staying as part of the palace staff isn't to your tastes, we can prepare an atelier for you in a prime location in the City of Fortune…

Chloe: An atelier? Y…you'd prepare an atelier for someone like me…?

Servant: We've heard that the Sage's wizards' clothing is all made by hand by you, Lord Collins. While I wouldn't know how Central Country and its old-fashioned sensibilities appraised your work… The talent gushing out of your work has you on the absolute cutting edge of fashion! It's avant-garde and beautifully artistic. The rising star of the era.

Chloe: The rising star of the era… Th…that's way too much praise. While it's true that I've worked really hard and made a lot of pieces people love, I'm just…

Servant: Just looking at the sleeves of the clothing you make is enough to enrapture anyone in Western Country with any taste at all. So, what kind of interior would you like your atelier to have?

Chloe: …Hmm… Um, it'd be nice if it was somewhere that anyone felt like they could walk into easily… …Hold on! I never said I was going to do that!

Servant: Is that right. But still, thinking about it is a fun pastime, don't you think?

Chloe: That's true…

Servant: Would you like a more relaxed atmosphere? Or something more natural? Or perhaps something eye-catching?

Chloe: Being a little showy wouldn't be too bad! The entrance can be all flashy, but the inside should be nice and cozy… Ah…! I said, let me go see Rustica!

Servant: Sorry, what did you say?

Chloe: Ah, umm, the conversation we were having made me really happy, but I'd really like to be able to see Rustica now.

Servant: Of course. Please, wait here for just a moment. And while you wait, if you'd like, you could inspect the atelier here on the palace grounds…

Chloe: Am I really going to get to see him? Jeez… What's the palace atelier like?

Servant: Right this way.

Chloe: Just for a little… Just for as long as it takes for them to tell Rustica I'm here.

Servant: But of course, Lord Collins.

✦✧☾✧✦

Servant: Lord Shino Sherwood, Sage's wizard.

Shino: What.

Servant: I've heard of your work, Lord Shino Sherwood, even prior to your becoming a Sage's wizard. Like how you possess extraordinary magical power and yet excel in the physical combat as well, having fought through many battles. The Blanchett family in the East must be proud to have you in their employ.

Shino: Heh. You could say that.

Servant: On that subject, Lord Sherwood… I can't speak of this loudly, of course, but…

Shino: …? What.

Servant: Our new queen has been considering asking you to join us as a proud and glorious general, here in Western Country.

Shino: General?

Servant: Yes.

Shino: Western Country's general?

Servant: Yes. We've heard that this is the position you desire.

Shino: So you're saying I'd just get instated as Western Country's general, just like that? That's just ridiculous.

Servant: No, it isn't. It's the only suitable position for someone of your skill, Lord Sherwood. While I am unsure of how such things are determined in the East, here in the free and innovative Western Country, it isn't social status that determines one's position, but skill. I simply think that you deserve to be seen as an honored general, a position you've more than earned…

Heathcliff: You.

Servant: …!

Shino: Heath…cliff, my master.

Servant: My, my…

Heathcliff: Do you know who I am?

Servant: Of…of course I do.

Heathcliff: Say it.

Servant: Lord Heathcliff Blanchett.

Heathcliff: That is correct. And Shino Sherwood, standing next to me, is one of the Blanchett family's most talented servants. Were you aware of that?

Servant: …I knew, yes.

Heathcliff: So you mean to tell me that Western Country's new queen is trying to steal away our servants, whom we value equal to our family's wealth? Please tell me if I've been misled.

Servant: L…Lord Blanchett, I…

Heathcliff: Shino.

Shino: Yes.

Heathcliff: Do you want to be rewarded by any other than I?

Shino: No.

Heathcliff: Are you going to call any but I your master?

Shino: No. I will serve you til the end of my days, my lord.

Heathcliff: Did you hear that?

Servant: Yes…

Heathcliff: For the sake of her Majesty's honor, I will refrain from causing any trouble before her coronation. Should something as vulgar as this happen again, I will not pardon it a second time.

Servant: I understand… All of this was of my own doing. Her Majesty had no hand in it…

Heathcliff: Were you told to say that?

Servant: …

Heathcliff: I have nothing more to say to you. Stand down.

Servant: Thank you for your generosity, Lord Blanchett.

Heathcliff: … Haah… That startled me… Shino, you can't do that. If you don't reject them straight up, they'll just keep…

Shino: My lord.

Heathcliff: Wh-what's with that look?

Shino: That ruled.

Heathcliff: Don't make fun of me, jeez! That was a really bad guy just now, do you get that?!

Shino: I know. Well, I actually didn't know. So he was bad?

Heathcliff: Really bad!

Shino: Even if I became a Western general, I'd still devote myself to you. That said, I don't want anyone but you to reward me. That sounds good. It's stimulating.

Heathcliff: Do you really understand…?

Shino: I do. My lord, finest in the world. Lord Heathcliff, banzai.

Heathcliff: You're definitely just making fun of me…

9 - Preparing for the Coronation

Akira: Y-you want me to be the one to give the new queen her crown and scepter at her coronation ceremony…?

Gilles: Yes. Her Majesty Queen Liliana is sincerely hoping you will be willing to accept.

Mitile: That's amazing, Master Sage…! That's something I've only read about happening in books! It's normally a duty just for an upstanding minister of the church! Isn't it cool, Leno?

Lennox: Yes, it is.

Riquet: A minister… Master Sage is going to be taking on the role of a minister…

Akira: H-hold on, everyone… I can't possibly do something this important…

Gilles: The Sage has the role of uniting humans and wizards so that they may live alongside one another in the same societies, hand in hand. Her Majesty Queen Liliana has the same ambition. Though she is still young, her ideals are truly wonderful ones. No, it is because she is still young that she can look over this world with a fresh viewpoint, free from old-fashioned prejudices. Just like Prince Arthur.

Akira: … (Princess Liliana… According to what I've heard about her from Gregory, she does seem to be a wonderful person.) (But if I align what I know with what Chloe told me about the witch hidden in the West's royal palace, Zara…) (There's a real possibility that Zara has turned herself into Princess Liliana.) (Gilles seems like he's a good person, but he buried a nearly-dead Gregory…)

Gilles: How about it, Master Sage? It will also be a good occasion to have each of the Sage's wizards recognized by the world at large.

Akira: Recognized by the world…?

Gilles: Oh, yes. A coronation ceremony is the holiest of all ceremonies in the eyes of the state. It will legitimize the Sage's wizards in the eyes of the Western royal family and government. Her Majesty wishes for all of the Sage's wizards to attend her coronation.

Mitile: It's okay for us to participate too?

Gilles: Of course you may. Her Majesty said she would like for all of the Sage's wizards to give her their blessing, that she may become a proper queen.

Riquet: Giving blessings to a new queen… Doesn't that sound wonderful, Master Sage? Master Sage…? You will accept, won't you?

Lennox: Riquet. Master Sage hasn't given their response yet.

Riquet: Ah… I'm sorry.

Akira: Oh, no… I understand now. I'll accept the role.

Mitile & Riquet: Master Sage!

Lennox: Are you sure, Master Sage?

Akira: Yes… If the Sage's wizards can become more well known because of the coronation, then it'll make our work easier than it is right now, I think… Like an internationally famous pop idol group…

Lennox: Pop idol…?

Akira: Oz and Mithra are both famously strong wizards, but they both give really scary first impressions, so… It'd be nice if I could communicate that wizards like Mitile and Riquet that are more down-to-earth and like people they know are out there, too… I hope it would help more people think of wizards as their friends.

Gilles: My goodness, Master Sage, you do not disappoint. I must admit I'm impressed by how thorough your thinking is.

Akira: But…I don't know the first thing about this ceremony. What if I do something wrong…

Murr: You needn't worry yourself about that.

Akira: Hyah! Y-you scared me…!

Gilles: You are… Professor Murr Hart…?

Murr: In the flesh.

Gilles: Why are you so small…?

Murr: So that my dear Sage can carry me around, of course. Becoming the perfect size to fit in their pocket is quite convenient, don't you think?

Gilles: I suppose…?

Murr: Master Sage, put your fears to rest. I shall whisper to you the finer details of the ceremony while you perform your role.

Akira: W-will that work?

Murr: Of course it will. My kind Sage, thank you for thinking of us all. It will be a scene to bring glory to both you and your wizards.

A scene of glory… Would it really go that well? When I'd attended a party in Central Country, the Northern wizards had crashed it and made a mess of everything.

Akira: (Although they do seem interested in the Western manor…)

Regarding the coronation, however, I did have another condition for my participation.

Akira: Could you let me meet with Rustica? I know that Chloe's asked to see him any number of times to no avail. I've also heard that he hasn't been able to see him even when flying to the window of the tower. Where is Rustica? And why aren't we being allowed to see him? Please, let me see him.

Gilles: …Understood. It's not as if we don't want to let you meet him. He's simply in a poor state of health at the moment…

Akira: Is that true…? If that's the case, I want to see him even more…

Mitile: Then you should let Dr. Figaro look at him. Why isn't he allowed to do that?

Gilles: … I understand. Tomorrow is the eve of the coronation ceremony. A party for the guests her Majesty has invited will be held. Lord Rustica shall attend…so please, we would like for all of you to attend as well.

Akira: I understand. Thank you so much.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: …Rustica… Why aren't you in your room? Even though I can feel your presence here, Rustica… There's feathers all over everything… I wonder if a pillow got ripped open during a fight or something… …Rustica…

✦✧☾✧✦

I could hear someone's sad, pained voice. I wanted to help them, but it seemed my voice couldn't reach their ears. This had happened in the far distant past, as well. I'd heard a voice that had sounded like the whining of an animal that knew it was about to be killed. But when I looked more closely, I saw it was a person.

???: Aaaaahhhh… Waaaahhhh… Why…?! …Why…?! Why?! Why?! Waaaahhhh…! Waaaahhhh…! Come back, please come back…! Come back, please, please, please…! I need to turn back time…!

Murr: Regarding that. Such a concept has been contemplated since ancient times. So it's possible, in theory. Child of the Sapphire Palace. Child beloved by the sun and moon. How pitiful you are. Being labeled as beloved by the moon is such a strange, sinister title… One that only I would be happy to have, really.

Rustica: …gh, ahhhh…! Aaaahhhh…! Uwaaaahhhh…!

I wonder what's become of that person. I hope they're happier now.

Gilles: Excuse me.

It looks like someone's come to pay a visit. Good evening. Would you like a cup of tea?

Gilles: …

Oh my, staying silent with such a handsome face? Could it be that you're not partial to tea? Please wait a moment. I'm sure I can find something else that you'll like more. There's a lovely breeze tonight. I wonder how far its wings shall take it?

Gilles: …gh, watch out…!

My, how kind you are. Could you perhaps be my bride? I've been looking for you for so long…

Gilles: …How in the world am I supposed to present something like this publicly…?

✦✧☾✧✦

Gregory: Sigh… I wasn't able to uncover any clues today, either. Am I being overly cautious in my search? Perhaps I should be bolder… No, it's entirely possible that showing myself in front of Liliana or General Barnett would just have them try to kill me again… …Hm? A bird is singing… There shouldn't be any birds that sing in the night like that. Ah… Here's where you were… You should try flying a bit higher. You'll get stepped on down there. Are you hungry? Try eating this fruit and see if you feel a bit better. Here you go. Thank goodness! I'm glad you could eat it. Then for my share, I'll have… Ah… You dropped it in the pond. You're a bit dull, aren't you… Well, no worries. I'll pick it up again for you. Just wait here for me. …This bird reminds me a bit of Liliana…

✦✧☾✧✦

And then came the eve of the coronation ceremony… A party for the guests of her Majesty the Queen was held at Messier Palace.

✦✧☾✧✦

Arthur: Master Sage.

Akira: Arthur.

Arthur: Your outfit is splendid, Master Sage.

Akira: As is yours, Arthur. It's been so long since you've worn it that I'm happy to see it again. Is it Chloe's work?

Chloe: It is! I'm so happy everyone wanted to wear these outfits again! I wonder if Rustica will wear his tomorrow… And Faust and Nero, too…

Akira: Yeah, Faust and Nero still aren't back in tip-top shape yet… And Rustica is, well…

Arthur: I really wonder what's happened to him. I spoke with General Barnett, and it didn't seem he wanted want us to not see him…

Chloe: I wonder if he's sick… If he is, then they should let a doctor see him and let me take care of him…

Akira: I asked Oz about it, and he could feel Rustica's presence in that tower, too.

Arthur: You spoke with Lord Oz?

Akira: Yeah. What about you, Arthur?

Arthur: …He seems to be avoiding me. Although I can feel his presence watching over me…

Akira: …Is that so. Rutile said the same thing. That Mithra's avoiding him…

Arthur: I have a feeling that I myself might be the cause, but… Even if I am, I don't understand why he's not talking to me directly.

Akira: (Ah… He's unusually upset about this…)

Arthur: If he thinks I won't understand even if he does talk to me about it, I'd still at least like the chance to clear up whatever misunderstanding there might be.

Akira: True… I'm sure he still treasures you as much as he always has, too…

Drummond: Prince Arthur!

Arthur: …Drummond…and Cock Robin…!

Cock Robin: Prince Arthur! I'm so happy to see you and Master Sage are doing well!

Akira: Drummond! Cock Robin!

Drummond: The wind has carried rumors of you to my ears! I hear you'll be the one performing the coronation itself!

Akira: It's too much to say I'm going to be performing it! They're just letting me be the one to give her her crown and scepter!

Cock Robin: That's the main event of a coronation! I'll be sure to record every second of your participation, Master Sage!

Akira: Haha… I'll do my best. (I'm glad I accepted the role if people are going to be this happy about it…) (Everyone else is eating at the banquet, looking calm…) (It's been a while since we've participated in something with a bright and happy atmosphere like this…) (…Huh?) (The shard of Murr's soul I'd been keeping in my pocket is…)

✦✧☾✧✦

Mitile: It's so pretty!

Riquet: It really is! I wonder if it's ice or candy. Or maybe jelly?

Mitile: It looks like a mana stone! Let's take a bite of it together!

Riquet: Okay!

Mitile & Riquet: One, two…! Munch!

Riquiet: It's so good! It's a lot softer than I was expecting. I want to bring some to Nero to try, too.

Mitile: You want to try making him some?

Riquet: Fufu, exactly!

Mitile: It really is tasty. I wonder if mana stones taste like that, too. I want to try eating the real deal one day…

Riquet: Hm?

Mitile Ah… Ehehe, don't worry about it.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: …

Shylock: Cheer up, Chloe. I'm sure you'll be able to see Rustica tomorrow.

Chloe: Shylock… Murr…

Murr: Look, look, Chloe! I got lots of pretty gems!

Chloe: That's amazing, Murr. It seems like there's a lot of people who like you around the Western palace.

Shylock: He is an eminent figure in Western Country's folklore. He even has a connection to the royal family.

Murr: Everyone loves me! I love me, too!

Shylock: A lovely philosophy. I, too, shall adore myself. I collected the pieces of Murr's soul so that I could meet him one more time. I raised you with the utmost care…

Murr: You were always with me!

Shylock: But now I fear that the Murr I raised is not the Murr I knew. And should that be the case… What could the love I feel for you be? Nothing more than narcissism? An unsightly desire for control? Or am I simply trying to replicate memories that I'll never be able to relive?

Murr: I don't know. But I do know that I love you, Shylock!

Shylock: Thank you, Murr… There was a shard of your soul who once said to me that the "you" you are now is a reflection of my own soul… A twisted creation I gave birth to. The results of my own actions. A ridiculous, hollow foolishness. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to meet the old Murr ever again. But despite this… I shall not regret what I've done. For a me who wouldn't collect the pieces of your broken soul isn't me at all. A me who cannot love an incomplete you isn't me, either. Because I'm sure… I will be meddling with your soul, for as long as I am me.

Murr: I think so too! Is that something you shouldn't be doing?

Shylock: I am unsure… An answer has yet to present itself.

Murr: Then you should smile! Because I love your smile, Shylock!

Shylock: … As you wish, Murr. I must apologize. I've said some truly terrible things to you…

Murr: That's a-okay! I love you when you're all frustrated and worn out, too!

Shylock: …

Chloe: That's right… All of us, we're Western wizards. We can't let ourselves get trapped by stress and worry! If we're gonna get captured by anything, it should be by love, or happiness, or enjoyment! If it's something like that, I wouldn't mind having my soul completely dominated by it. Since, I mean, it's something I love! When I'm having fun, when I'm in love, when I think about how much I like something…that's when I'm happiest!

Murr: Words to live by, Chloe!

Shylock: You're exactly right.

Chloe: Right, right! Since, I mean, I think we probably met so that we could all become happier! Even when we screw things up, things will always be happier tomorrow than they are today. That's why we keep living.

10 - A Girl Marked as Queen

Noblewoman: Oh my, what adorable twins you are! Would you like some cookies?

Snow: I wanna eat some!

White: Miss, get us some!

Snow: Munch munch… Western Country's parties are always so gaudy and fun! There's nothing but weirdos no matter where you look!

White: It's true, it's true! By simply placing our portrait on the wall of the banquet hall, we can eat and drink our fill!

Snow: No one's even noticed that we're attached to a frame! …Ah, if it isn't Gregory!

Gregory: …

White: Why, so it is! Gregory!

Gregory: …

Snow: Are you pretending to be a bird?

White: Thank you for getting along with Saku-chan!

Gregory: …Please don't talk to me so loudly. Should anyone notice me here…

Noblewoman: Oh my! Did that bird just speak? Did you twins hear it, too?

Snow & White: Maaaaybe…

Gregory: H…

Noblewoman:

Gregory: Ch…chirp…

Noblewoman: It seems it really was just a bird!

Snow & White: Yep!

Gregory: Chirp chirp chirp…

✦✧☾✧✦

Shino: And then you know what Heath said? "Do you want to be rewarded by any other than I?"

Rutile: Oh my goooosh! Heath's so cool!

Figaro: What a guy.

Heathcliff: Knock it off, Shino. Just how many people are you going to tell this to…

Cain: Sounds like things were rough for everyone.

Lennox: Things were rough for you too, Cain.

Cain: Not at all… All that happened on my end was confusing myself because I overthought things.

Murr: And isn't that a wonderful thing to do?

Cain: Murr? Huh?

Figaro: Ah… A shard of purple sapphire. I wonder if Master Sage dropped theirs.

Murr: They dropped a glass still full of drink and pulled out their handkerchief to clean it up, and me along with it.

Cain: What do you mean by "wonderful" here?

Murr: That you found yourself confused. To be confused is to broaden one's knowledge without stubbornly sticking to a single set of values, allowing you to better understand what's around you.

Cain: …

Murr: For you have a sincere and genuine perspective of things that allows you to question the right and wrong of things and gives you the tolerance to accept different opinions, and then make your decisions based on that information. This is proof of your honesty, your sagacity, and your objectivity when judging others. Is that not wonderful to you?

Cain: Ah…

Murr: Are there any other confused people in attendance?

Rutile: I think I am…

Shino: …Me too, maybe.

Heathcliff: I always feel confused…

Murr: And what about you?

Lennox: Not particularly…

Figaro: Well, that's just how you are.

Murr: And you?

Figaro: And you, sir?

Murr: Pardon me. And you, sir?

Figaro: Ahh, well, I suppose I am.

Murr: Spectacular. Everyone, a round of applause for yourselves.

Heathcliff: Haha, even though we're all confused.

Rutile: But we're all feeling better about it.

Cain: Yeah…

Murr: If you simply stop thinking and let yourself fall into extremes, repeating your own assertions endlessly, your mind will certainly feel better. Because the left and right sides of your brain will never be coming in contact with one another. To be lost and confused, to have your heart waver, must never be looked upon as weakness. There is much that requires personal will. That said, agonizing over those things or straying off your course will never be useless or unproductive. Because that is when your world expands. Much like the ever-expanding reaches of the universe.

Cain: …Our world expands…

Murr: Correct. Simply knowing something on a surface level means never knowing the pain that accompanies real knowledge. But you threw yourself into the thick of it, with your magnanimity and dauntless heart. And as a consequence, you shall be fine either way, should you find yourself faced with a path you cannot take. You know yourself, after all. And you know that there is much of this world and its people that you do not yet know.

Cain: …I think you might be onto something here. Although I really did do some weird and downright unsightly things, hearing you say that is making me feel a little better about it.

Murr: You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your bravery merits this praise. Cheers to your inquisitive mind!

Cain: Cheers!

Rutile: This Murr really does seem like a philosopher, doesn't he!

Heathcliff: He's so kind and gentlemanly and cool…

Shino: He's easier to understand, too. If you put this Murr next to our Murr, there's definitely a pretty big difference.

Figaro: Hmm… I'm jealous. Could he be a successful example of "gap moe"…?

Lennox: Dr. Figaro…

Murr: Well, there's no helping that you can't be loved, Figaro.

Figaro: Mind your mouth, brat.

Rutile: Dr. Figaro?

Figaro: Ah, looks like I got a little tipsy…

Murr: My apologies. It seems I chose my words poorly. Here is what I wanted to say. In the history of this world, your assigned role is that of a governing body, and politicians are never adored.

Figaro: …

Murr: The government has a role to bring happiness to the community, but not to the individual. I'd say individuals in your community only get 50 to 80% of the happiness they need. That said, while the individual would like to be 100% happy, they prefer people who are only 90% happy or so. And so, you are unloveable. Though I suppose you could make an excellent cult figurehead.

Figaro: …

Murr: On this planet on which so many different humans and wizards sprout… I imagine such a cult would prosper quietly, provided no catastrophes happened to befall it. And that prosperity would, certainly, be thanks to you.

Figaro: …

Murr: Thank you for protecting this beautiful world of ours.

Figaro: … Hmm… I guess that's good enough. You are forgiven.

Murr: I am always happy to make you happy, Lord Figaro.

Lennox: Don't push it, or he'll really get mad.

Rutile: What did he mean by calling Dr. Figaro a politician…? Is he the mayor of a small village somewhere, maybe?

Figaro: … I'll be sure to tell you all about it when I get the chance.

Murr: You are the exact opposite of Shylock in that regard. He is the ultimate in individualism. He will always make the individual 100% happy all of the time. Perhaps that's the secret to his immense popularity?

Figaro: He certainly does.

Murr: Shylock tries to please all individuals, regardless of their origin or personal tastes. But still, theories exist to be disproven. Should they hold incompatible sets of values or incompatible desires, individuals will inevitably come into conflict. Such is society. A community can't be stable if it tries to acquiesce to every individual individuality. And yet things still go well with Shylock at the helm. Why do you think that is?

Shino: …? Because they're all drunk?

Lennox: Shylock's bar is comfortable. Is it so they can come again?

Cain: I've got it. It's because they're all in love with him.

Murr: That's precisely it. Even those with wildly different views will behave appropriately in front of him, because they want to be seen as gentlemen. This is an example of how a stable community can be built on affection.

Shino: Pretty interesting.

Murr: Isn't it? Interest and affection build a fine social order, and from it, peace is naturally born. Both politicians and bartenders utilize all sorts of different methods to protect the world they love, all while beseiged by doubts of their own. You mustn't forget this. The only reason you will ever feel lost is because you are facing something with genuine interest. You made every effort to understand different values, all while holding love in your heart. It's a most wonderful thing. But, you all know that already. The door to a new world is something that opens quite close to you. One that will allow you to go wherever you please. So please, proceed through it with pride.

✦✧☾✧✦

Owen: … Hmph… He's finally looking like himself again.

Mithra: Who are you talking about?

Owen: Nothing. No one. Hey, that's mine.

Oz: …

Mithra: Oz. Why are you standing over there? Shouldn't you be over with that lot over there?

Oz: I am already here.

Mithra: I'm also already here. Don't get in the way of my meal.

Oz: … Do not eat like a wild beast. You should separate out anything hard…

Mithra: Hah? I don't recall asking.

Owen: Mithra. The inside of your mouth is bleeding.

Bradley: Chomp… Beasts, huh… Speakin' of, that reminded me of somethin' Eva said once. Somethin' about avoiding Western Country…what was that all about, again?

✦✧☾✧✦

Murr: Nova… Come now, Nova. Don't you have any standards?

Nova: I don't want to hear that from you.

Murr: Just what are you doing, stealing away my research material? Those are research notes I destroyed. If not handled with proper care, even the most minor of mismanagements will result in disaster.

Nova: Yes, precisely. The world will end either way.

Murr: Ah, you… …Goodness. He should listen better to his elders.

✦✧☾✧✦

Nova: … …Not enough… Where did you run off to…

✦✧☾✧✦

And then, the next day… The coronation of Western Country's new queen, her Majesty Queen Liliana, took place.

✦✧☾✧✦

Akira: Oogh, I'm so nervous…

Murr: You'll be fine. Relax.

Chloe: …Ah…! Rustica! It's Rustica!

Chloe's bright voice echoed around the room, and I whirled around. I was finally going to get to see Rustica again. It was only natural I'd be happy to hear that. And beyond Chloe's back… I saw Rustica, clad in a white suit.

Chloe: Rustica! I'm so glad you're okay!

Rustica smiled. He turned to Chloe and extended his right hand to him.

Rustica: Hello…

For some reason, Chloe's smile vanished in the same time it took me to blink. His eyes grew wide. The right arm that Rustica had offered him had no hand attached to it.

Akira: …!

I was struck speechless. To be precise, it wasn't that he didn't have a hand at all. It was that in place of a hand were white feathers, softly scattering about him with every motion. Chloe immediately used both hands to stop any more feathers from falling. He pressed them against Rustica's arm in a panic, absolutely beside himself. And when he did, those feathers took the shape of the palm of Rustica's hand. But as soon as he did, the left half of Rustica's kind, elegant face turned to feathers and began to drift towards the ground.

Chloe: Ah… Ahh…Rustica…

Chloe frantically tried to support Rustica. He tried to press his hands against whatever parts of him seemed on the verge of completely collapsing into feathers dancing through the air. Strangely enough, it seemed like it was working.

Chloe: What's happening? Rustica… Did you get hit by some evil magic…?

Chloe was pale as a ghost. He looked like he wanted to start sobbing, but he was desperately keeping himself together. And Rustica turned his gentle gaze on this Chloe in front of him.

Rustica: …Evil magic?

Chloe: Did Zah… …gh, Rustica… Do you know who I am? What's my name?

Rustica looked Chloe over. He smiled and gestured with a flourish, his head tilted a little to one side. Chloe looked up at Rustica, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, with all the hope that was contained in a prayer.

Rustica: … …Chloe?

Chloe: …gh.

Tears began to fall from his violet eyes. Rustica smiled, even as his shoulders shook. And that was the cue for his legs to turn to feathers. Rustica's body began to sag, framed by the dancing of white feathers.

Rustica: Haha… That's the name of the child who said he wanted to travel with me.

Chloe: Rustica, Rustica…!

Rustica: Oh my…? I seem to be having trouble standing up straight… …!

Just as it seemed he would finally collapse into feathers, Bradley appeared, his arms wrapped around Rustica's upper half. He didn't know what to say, either. Had something happened? I looked back over my shoulder. And found I couldn't move my neck. Chloe was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to put Rustica's legs back together. Rustica was reformed, time and time again, as if Chloe's hands were merely reassembling a puzzle.

Rustica: I'm sorry, Chloe. I wasn't able to wake up on my own again.

Chloe: …Who did this… Who did this to you…?! I'll make them regret this…! …I'll never forgive them…! Never, not ever!

Bradley: You need to calm down, Western tiny.

Chloe: But…!

Bradley: When the time comes, I'll help you hurt 'em. But for right now, we need to do somethin' about Mister Bridegroom here.

Rustica: Oh, I'm just fine, Bradley.

Rustica responded to Bradley with the same smile he always had. And then, he looked to me. Rustica smiled at me beautifully, the center of an elegant dance.

Rustica: I'm looking forward to seeing your part in the coronation ceremony, Master Sage.

Rustica's collapse was slowly coming to a halt. Chloe hugged Rustica as tightly as he could. He clutched him desperately, tears rolling down his cheeks, and mumbled something, distraught.

Chloe: …He's so light… There's no weight at all…

A crowd of people had gathered around us while I hadn't been paying attention. It was the Sage's wizards. I saw Faust and Nero, out of their rooms for the first time in a long time. But none of them knew what was causing this. Not Snow and White, not Figaro, not Shylock.

Rustica: I'm just fine. It's almost time for the ceremony. Shall we go? Master Sage. Chloe.

Rustica stood up on his own legs and tugged on Chloe's hand. As if I'd just hallucinated everything that had happened only moments before.

✦✧☾✧✦

(This is a link to Skin-Deep Comedy by Mili, the theme song for this arc, which plays during this scene.)

This magnificent and luxurious hall in the palace was deathly silent and still. The audience consisted of people representing Western Country along with the other countries that had been invited, all of them with solemn expressions on their faces. It was a prestigious atmosphere, if a tense one. And at the center of that atmosphere stood Arthur and a girl who couldn't have been any older than him. Her Majesty, the new Queen Liliana. And then they called upon me, the Sage from another world.

Akira: Your Majesty, Queen Liliana. I present to you Western Country's royal family's greatest treasure, this crown and scepter, resplendent in majesty. With this regalia in hand, you shall sit at throne of this great country without ever forgetting the grace and dignity you must have as monarch. With the glory granted to you by the heavens above, you shall become a leader embodying wisdom and love.

I placed the crown upon Queen Liliana's brow with the carefulest hands I'd ever had in my life. The stress probably helped with that. And then, I offered her the scepter.

Akira: (This is the cursed scepter…)

I glanced at Oz. If this scepter was cursed, there was no way he wouldn't notice. But he indicated nothing of the sort. Neither did the twins, nor Figaro, nor Shylock. Not even Faust, who knew curses better than anyone, said anything. Feeling lost and confused, I still spoke the words that the shard of Murr's soul whispered in my ear.

Akira: From this moment, Western Country's holy monarch is Queen Liliana. Sage's wizards, confer your blessings.

Snow & White: Northern Country offers her Majesty a blessed perpetuity. <Noscomnia>

Mithra: <Arthim>

Owen: <Cure Memini>

Bradley: <Adnopotensum>

Shylock: <Inviebelle>

Murr: <Eanul Lambru>

Chloe: <Suispicibo Voitengok>

Rustica: <Amores Viesse>

Faust: <Salliuqnart Mulcredo>

Shino: <Matzah Sudipas>

Heathcliff: <Repsev Aivulp Sunos>

Nero: <Adnodis Omnis>

Figaro: <Possideo>

Rutile: <Ortonik Setomaouge>

Lennox: <Forsettao Meiuvat>

Mitile: <Ortonik Sealsispilce>

Oz: <Vox Nox>

Arthur: <Pernoctant Nixzo>

Cain: <Gladius Procella>

Riquet: <Sunrotea Edif>

Queen Liliana sat upon her throne, silently accepting the proferred blessings with her eyes closed. At the end of them, she opened her eyes again.

Akira: State your oath.

Liliana: Yes, Sage.

Scepter in hand, Liliana smoothly rose to her feet. She smiled at the assembled masses in the hall. It was a smile of delicate silk that did not disguise the tempered steel behind it--it was the smile the people wanted to see on their new queen. But for a moment, that smile wavered. She glanced at Rustica, who was once again struggling to stay standing. Chloe was once again trying to keep Rustica's shoulders from disintegrating into countless feathers that would dance through the air. Liliana averted her eyes from them and took a deep breath, as though trying to steel herself.

Liliana: People of my country. This day, in accordance with the holy ceremony, I now stand before you as the queen of Western Country. I swear a vow upon this scepter not as princess of Cortes Palace, but as queen of every person in this land. Western Country has become wealthy because of our developments in magical technology. But if that wealth has not been wrought through just and fair means, how can we call ourselves prosperous? My wish is for the wealth inequality of my people to become less disparate, for the beauty of our culture and art to be known to all, and for happiness to be granted to each and every one of my citizens. I am well aware that chaos and anxiety has spread in the wake of the sudden death of the former King, but I shall become this kingdom's shining star of hope. My people. I believe, with all of who I am, that Western Country stands as the heart of this continent.

Queen Liliana's powerful words rang through the hall like a shockwave. But even more powerful than her words was the applause in response to them. The Western people's hope and pride were both brilliantly bright. Their new queen was as radiant as the sun.

Liliana: With Western Country's pride and joy, the Magical Technology Corps… And the heroes of salvation, the Sage's wizards, at my side, I will make Western Country greater than ever before. Though this world may bear great scars, I shall not lose hope. Through unity and collaboration, we can raise the curtain on the dawn of a new era--together.

Having said that, Queen Liliana bowed to the people before her. The applause that followed was so loud I could've been convinced the world was breaking in half.

Attendee: Praise her Majesty, Queen Liliana! Her Majesty, banzai!

Next Chapter

#.main story tl

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stardroptasteslikesocialism · 9 months

Text

Say it Ain't So part 2

Part One here

Gator tries to make things right and keep you safe.

Content: manchild!gator tillman x teacher!reader, canon appropriate violence, one use of a slur, pregnancy, guns, angst with a little fluff sprinkled in.

Gator stayed awake until sunrise.

Of course, being tasked with sticking a corpse in a truck and then running said truck into a ditch by himself took most of the night.

As he stood by the elementary school crosswalk, eyes bloodshot, the lids heavy with exhaustion, he felt his heart skip a beat when he noticed you weren't in your usual spot by the front door. His mind immediately assumed the worst.

He got you, too.

Before the panic settled in, Gator grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

Hey, you ok?

He heaved a sigh of relief when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Took a sick day. Spent the morning hurling.

A pang of guilt racked his chest as he wrapped up drop-off duty. As if on auto-pilot, the squad car made its way to a small, modest yellow house littered with burnt orange and red leaves. Gator attempted to steel his nerves before giving your door his usual quick, loud knock. He sucked in a breath when he heard your deadbolts and locks clicking.

When the door crept open, Gator held back a wince. You stood before him, eyes just as bloodshot, and your skin an alarming pallor. He'd never seen you so - disheveled; your college hoodie hung limply off your shoulders, unzipped to reveal a plain white tank top, and sweatpants sat loose around your hips.

He also couldn't help noticing your boobs were definitely bigger, but he had to quickly suppress those thoughts.

"God, you look like hell," Gator quietly muttered as he took in the full sight of you.

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned with an eye roll, "y'know, you're not looking so hot either, Tillman."

"No! Shit, sorry. That came out wrong," he quickly backtracked, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I meant, like, are you okay? Now? To talk?"

"Oh, now you wanna talk?" you quipped, leaning against your doorframe.

"Yeah, now I wanna-" Gator cut himself off and took a quick breath, "Look, I'm sorry I left when I did."

"You shouldn't have left at all," you snapped, arms crossing your chest.

"Jesus, I-" Gator paused, "I don't wanna turn this into a fight, alright? It's just one of my guys is dead, now. Had to tell his fiancee this morning that he wasn't comin' home. Scared the shit outta me, because that could've been me, but by some stroke of luck, it wasn't."

Your eyes welled up with tears as they glanced up at Gator's.

"My job isn't just watching ankle-biters cross the street every day, y'know? I deal with dangerous shit. A lot of it. And I guess - I guess I'm just scared."

Gator looked up at the overcast sky; a vain attempt to keep tears from falling. He could hear Roy's voice bellowing in his head.

Quit that crying. Crying's for girls and queers. I won't have a crybaby son.

"I'm scared I won't be good enough. I don't know what you see in me, but I know all Roy sees when he looks at me is a failure."

"Stop," You quietly silenced him with your steps on your front porch, "Stop doing that to yourself."

Gator looked down at you confused.

"You always hold yourself to standards your father set. What Roy wants you to do; how Roy wants you to act. You are a grown man still fighting for your dad to be proud of you. But you know what I think? I think nothing's ever going to please Roy Tillman. You could do everything he asks of you, and it still wouldn't be good enough. Because Roy doesn't care about you. He only cares about himself."

You cupped Gator's jaw with your hand, "He doesn't see what I do. I see a man who cares so much about the people around him. I see someone who has spent years raised by a man who wanted power so badly, he put his son through hell to get it. Someone who's seen unspeakable things that no child should have to. And despite that, I see someone who wants to do the right thing. He just doesn't know what that is yet."

Gator stood overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions in his head. The only thing he could think to do was wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in.

"The fact that you're so worried about being a good father already makes you one," you said, leaning into his chest, "I'm not saying it'll be easy, or fun all the time. But I've always had faith in you. This is our chance to finally break the Tillman cycle. You'll have me every step of the way."

The two of you stood there in silence; you, soaking in the warmth of Gator's arms around you. Gator let your words of encouragement soak in.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" You finally asked, looking into Gator's exhausted gaze. He swallowed and shook his head.

"Me neither," you admitted. You quietly took Gator's hand and guided him inside, "I think we both need a nap. This kid already has me up all night."

For the first time in over 24 hours, Gator cracked a smile.

"Hey, don't blame Gator Junior. He doesn't know any better!"

That caused a snort and eye roll to escape you.

"First of all, we don't know if they're a boy. And second, you have lost your mind if you think we're calling the baby Gator Junior."

"Aw, but it sounds awesome," Gator wined, "And trust me, giving you this much grief already is classic Tillman boy behavior. Just get ready to replace some windows. If he's anything like his old man, there'll be a lot of footballs through 'em."

"Oh, shut up and go take a shower," you scoffed, shooing him upstairs, "I can smell you from here."

"Aw, don't wanna join?" Gator teased as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You turned a light shade of green at the thought, "Not unless you want me to get sick again."

Gator shrugged, "Suit yourself."

A squeal escaped your lips when he tossed his sweat-and-dirt-soaked shirt at you, "God, you're awful!"

Gator laughed before pausing for a brief second.

"Could you help me with this-" he asked, awkwardly holding his cast up,

"Yes, I'll help cover your cast," you quickly replied.

#gator tillman #fargo fx #fargo s5 #joe keery #gator x reader

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profound-imagination · 2 years

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Finding Home - Eris Vanserra - Part 6

A/N: Enjoy part 6! It's so lovely to have so many positive comments whenever I post! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story!

T/W: pregnancy, character death, fighting, talks of blood.

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Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. Those words kept running through Eris Vanserra's head as he winnowed back to the Forest House. He'd smelt the change in you as soon as he'd opened the door to the small cottage in Winter the two of you called home. He was cursing himself for turning and leaving, for not saying one word to you before he left as he strode through the halls of the manor. Gods how he despised this place, his father and brothers and he'd be damned if his child would grow up here, grow up like he did. His child, his. However, he longed for his child to grow up in Autumn, to know the forests and streams, the golden sunrises and sunsets but in his Autumn, not his father's.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just let his feet carry him as his head swarmed. You were his entire world, a world that was about to get bigger. His heart swelled as he thought of you and the babe you now carried, a babe he hoped that would take after its mother, not its father. Despite how you saw him, despite the mask he wore, Eris was a cruel man and he knew it but he would use that, use it to protect the two of you at all costs. For the two of you he would burn the whole court, burn the world and start it anew.

He wasn't sure how or when he'd ended up in his father's chambers, watching the hateful male sleep from the shadows in the corner of the room, if he could think of anything other than you right now he'd laugh at how he was using Azriel's methods of sticking to the shadows but he couldn't. He took three tentative steps towards the bed where his father slept, where his mother was forced to sleep next to the husband she despised. He stopped in his tracks when his mother's eyes opened and met his, she took one look at her son and silently got up from the bed and walked towards him. She took his face in her hands and looked him right in the eyes and gave him a look that said I know. She brought his head down to her lips and kissed his forehead, much like she did when he was a child.

She watched as he stepped towards his father again and gave no reaction as he brought his right arm down and slashed his father's throat with the dagger he didn't even know he was holding. Beron's eyes shot open, a gurgle escaped his throat and blood spurted like a fountain out of the wound on his neck, showering Eris and his mother in his blood from where they stood. "You deserve this, you deserve to die, I'll be a better father than you ever were." He said, voice cold as ice as his father's chest stopped moving.

Only when they were sure Beron was dead did his mother speak. "Can you feel it? His power?" Eris nodded and his mother bowed to him, to the new High Lord of Autumn. "Why now?" She asked as she took the bloodied dagger from her eldest son. "She's pregnant. I'm going to be a father." Eris said so quietly he wasn't sure if his mother had heard, but she did. "A grandchild?" She beamed at him as he nodded. "You take me to Helion, and then you go back to your mate and you bring her home. You tell the Court I killed your father, you never tell anyone other than Y/N it was you." He faced his mother then. "You'll never be able to come back here." She smiled gently at him. "My love, I don't want too, I've spent so many centuries here, I'd like to live the rest of mine with my mate." He smiled back at her as best he could. "Will he help me? I need him to ward Y/N, so no one knows about the babe until it's safe, until there's no hiding it anymore." His mother took his hand. "I'll go and speak to him, tell him what's happened, you go to her." She kissed his forehead again and winnowed away to her new life.

Your eyes were sore and you had no tears left to cry as you stared out of the front window of the cottage into the Winter that surrounded your cottage, there wasn't much to be seen, it was the middle of the night and your heart was aching for Eris. You wanted him to come home, to be with you, to celebrate the new life that was growing inside of you, but he left, hadn't said a word. Did he not want this? It was sooner than you had planned and there was the issue of his father but you thought, at least for tonight, he would be overjoyed. You sighed as you stood and walked into the kitchen to make yourself a tea, Blaze never more than three steps behind you.

You stopped in your tracks in the archway to the kitchen as the front door opened, a cold gust blowing through the house. Pivoting on the spot a small gasp escaped you when you faced your mate, who was covered in blood. The usually impeccably put together male disheveled. You took three strides towards him. "It's not mine. The blood." He croaked out as he fell to his knees in front of you. "Who's is it?" You asked gently as you peered down at him. "My father's. I killed him. He's gone." His eyes met yours and much like his mother had, you bowed to him. His hands reached towards you, finding their home on your hips. "You're having our child." A fact, not a question but you nodded anyway. "I know that it's not what we planned but-" He cut you off by placing a small kiss on your stomach and then he gave you a dazzling smile, the one you'd imagined him giving you when you told him. "I'm sorry I left, love. I should've said something. I hate myself for it but I needed to deal with my father before I let this be real." You joined him on the floor. "I understand. But I'm still upset about it." He nodded. "You have every right to be, love." You kissed him then and asked "You want to do this with me then? Have a baby?" He grinned. "More than anything." You couldn't help but grin back. "As you wish, High Lord." He groaned. "Don't call me that, the last time you called me that, this happened." He breathed out as his hand affectionately ran across your stomach.

"I need to go back to Autumn in the morning, to deal with my father's death. My mother and Helion will be coming here tomorrow, he's going to ward you, so no one will find out about the babe until we are ready for them to know." You rolled your eyes at him, overprotective male. "Then we will go to the Night Court, see if Rhys can tell, if he can't, then you can come home, we can have our mating ceremony and you will be crowned alongside me, as High Lady if you wish it." You kissed the tip of his nose. "I just want you, Eris, title or no title. If calling me High Lady makes you happy then that's what we'll do."

Helion and Eris' mother arrived the next day as promised. His mother wrapped you in the kind of hug you'd never received from your own mother and Helion was grinning at you like a fool. "Congratulations, little lady." You grinned right back at him as your hand subconsciously found its home on your stomach. "Shall we do this then?" He asked and you nodded at him. You didn't feel any different when he was finished but neither of them could smell you unless you allowed them too. Eris' mother hugged you once more. "You'll be a better Lady of Autumn than I ever was." You smiled at her. "You'll be a wonderful Lady of Day, where you belong."

Eris returned later that afternoon, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Are you ready, love?" He asked, referring to the trip to Night to see if Rhys could break through the ward Helion had placed on you. "I want them to know, when we've figured out if Rhys can get through the ward. I'd like to tell them." You told him as you took the flowers from him and kissed his cheek. "Of course love, whatever you want." You took a deep breath and took his hand. "Let's go."

Cassian and Azriel were the first to greet you. Arms across their chests. Rhys winnowed in behind them, his usual cocky smirk across his face. "Resorting to murder now, Eris?" Rhys purred, Eris straightened his back, slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "It wasn't me." You kept your face as neutral as you could. "Don't lie to me, Eris." Rhys all but snarled, Eris smirked. "I'm not lying, I'm just dealing with the fall out, taking on my new role, you should know all about murdered father's and sudden power, Rhysand." You hadn't noticed Az sidle up beside you, his shadows gently wrapping around your wrists, as if to bind them. Eris said nothing as he turned, he just let out a growl and lunged for the Shadowsinger, protective mate and father instincts taking over. The two were throwing punch after punch as Rhys took your arm and dragged you towards Cassian. The Warlord gave you an apologetic look and murmured. "We won't hurt you." As his big arm wrapped tightly around your chest.

"Enough!" Rhys boomed. Eris was on his knees, his arms pinned behind his back by the Shadowsinger, a feral look in his eyes, thrashing against the hold Azriel had on him as he took you in, pinned to Cassian who had a dagger in his other hand and Eris went limp. "Please." He begged, his eyes darting to Rhys. "Don't hurt her." Rhys smirked. "Who knew it would be this easy to get you to comply." Eris met Rhys' gaze, a desperate look on his face. "Cass, please." You whispered to the illyrian holding you, he looked down at you and you let the ward down, enough for him to smell you and a look of concern and regret flickered across his face. "Rhys-" Cassian started, loud enough for all of them to hear but Rhys was already speaking.

"What really happened to your father?" He asked, looking down at Eris. Your mates eyes shot from you to Rhys and back again. He looked utterly defeated, truly ready to give up everything to keep you and the babe safe. You pushed against Cassian, who to his credit had loosened his grip but only slightly. Eris took this as a sign of you panicking, the rage he was feeling blocking out anything you were trying to send him down the bond. "I killed him." He ground out and Rhys smirk turned into a feline grin. "Let her go." Eris demanded but Rhys shook his head. "I thought we were allies, Eris, the plan was for me to support you when the time came." Eris gritted his teeth. "Plans change." Rhys hummed. "What could've possibly forced your hand?" You pushed against Cassian again to no avail. Rhys looked at you, his talons caressing the shields of your mind and hummed again. "She's warded. Why?" He looked at Eris and then back to you. "She's pregnant." The three Night Court males went still, Cassian released his hold on you as Azriel released his on Eris, your mate was at your side in seconds, checking you for any injuries and you reassured him you were unharmed. He pulled you into his chest and leveled a glare at Rhysand. "Can we talk like respectable males now?" Rhys nodded.

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #a court of thorns and roses #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian acotar

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a-gil-rebel · 18 days

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Okay, I'm running into a block on chapter 4 of this GF work, so I'm crossposting Chapter 1 to Tumblr for feedback! What do yall think is gonna happen next, what do you want to see?

Chapter 1: Tourist

The old man stepped through the swirling yellow portal into somewhere in Oregon. Familiar, yet not a place he'd ever been before. Light streamed upward from the sunrise, not quite sweeping the valley yet, and a spray of water misted them lightly.

"Wooow" the voice in his head drawled out. "Wow wow wow wow wow, so this is the infamous Dimension 46'\, roomy!" The old man chuckled, dusting himself off as the portal closed behind them.

Shifting the backpack on his shoulders, he took a quick scan of the area. A waterfall cascaded down into the valley to their right into a lake. A small shadowy island stood in its center, and he mentally tallied that as one of the first places they'd look into. The small town that stretched out in front of them had a center with a statue he didnt recognize, a few charming diners and a water tower with a muffin painted on one side.

His associate immediately took notice of the strange air the town radiated.

"I like this place, I think its about as weird as they say, maybe more! But I can't sense the rest of the dimension, almost like it exists inside a bubble. What could that be, Sixer?"

Sixer scratched his head as he pulled out his oldest book from a bag a dash too small for it to have been in. "I wonder if this place has a similar magnetic attraction of weirdness to my home, and no one's yet destabilized or disrupted the field enough for it to burst. This dimension must not have had a Me smart enough to figure it out. Not to worry old friend, after we have our fill of this little town, I can look into building a device to do that here, too."

The voice in his head chuckled. "Then let's get this party started!"

With that, they headed down toward the shore, a wave of a six-fingered hand pushing any plantlife out of the way as they went.

---

"Grunkle Ford, you promised to help me make Grunkle Stan's cake!" Mabel's cries fell on deaf ears as Ford and Dipper continued covering the table in more dumb math papers for their game.

"Yes yes, I'll pick one up later-ah!" He yelped as she pulled him down by his old man ear.

"This is the first time you two get to celebrate your own birthdays together in like. A billion years! You're going to Make him a cake and you'll LIKE IT."

"Okay, Okay! I will I promise, but our birthday isnt even until later this week, is a cake this early necessar?" He relented, and she released him, tugging her sequined sweater back in place.

"You two haven't celebrated in thirty years! You guys are gonna celebrate all week, because if you don't, you're going to have to deal with this Mabel-" she swiped her hand up her sweater, the sequins reversing to show her own face looking dissapointingly at him "-and you do Not want to meet that Mabel."

Dipper snickered from across the table. "Mabel, do I even wanna know how long it took you to make that?"

"Lo suficientemente largo como para escuchar todo nuestro libro de texto de español en audiolibro para poder aprobar el examen final." She replied, her right eye twitching. "Cake!" She shouted one more time before there was a knock on the door.

"Candy and Greta!" She gasped, running out of the kitchen and grappling past the TV to answer it. All three of them squealed a chord so ungodly the goat in the yard ran off, and Mabel invited them upstairs to help her unpack the rest of the way. Her and her brother had been there since the beginning of June, but both their families were on vacation that first week, so today was the first time they'd all been able to get together.

Since the divorce was finalized, the twins decided to make the attic a permanent room, somewhere that had at least enough stuff to crash there anytime if things got sour at home. Their mom still lived in Cali, but their dad had moved all the way to New Jersey where he'd grown up. So if Mom was ever overwhelmed by being a single mother, she'd given them the option to homeschool up in Oregon for a month or so, since they "liked it so much". Mabel liked the chance to do things at her own pace and be able to stay in Gravity Falls even after summer, and Dipper liked staying up to date with everything Ford was researching at the time, since the nerd was ahead in most classes anyway.

After about an hour decorating her side of the attic, they decided to go into town to see how things had changed. Greta told her about the new statue in the towncenter. Nathaniel Northwest's was torn down after the previous summer's revelation of who he really was, and priorities shifting after Weirdmageddan. The new statue was apparently designed by Robbie, whose art skills had flourished. It was abstract, with every 2D shape imaginable except for any triangles, and Candy swore if you looked at it at a certain time of day, the shadow spelled out "Up Yours".

After a snack at Greasy's Diner and saying hi to Pacifica, they decided to pop in and out of a few shops on their way back when she spotted Grunkle Ford in the bakery.

---

The voice in his head had gotten bored quickly on the island, since the only creature of note was somwhere in the underwater caves. So Sixer decided to take him to a local shop to pick out anything he wanted. He hadn't expected an entire sheetcake to be his heart's desire, but would he ever truly understand the immortal deity? They were about to bring a large vanilla with raspberry filling to the front when a child ran up to him, demanding something about making the cake himself.

"Grunkle, you better not be getting that cake instead of making one! You promised me!" The girl yanked on his coat threateningly, pointing a finger at him, the two other children behind her also making threatening stances. The presence in his mind flared with anger, even though there was no real threat. She must be mistaking him for another adult, how old was she? He barely remembered his own human physiology.

"Don't worry, little one. I was just getting... Inspiration. I will make the cake myself." She seemed satisfied with his response, and after a few more glares left them alone.

"How peculiar. I wonder who she though I was? And what's a Grunkle?"

"Not a clue, Sixer. Can we eat that cake now?" He laughed and waited for the kids to leave before checking out as well, heading into the woods so they could eat in peace.

---

Mabel got back to the Mystery Shack to see Soos wrapping up his last tour of the day so he and Melody could take the afternoon off. Wendy was in charge of the counter like old times, and Grunkle Stan would still be out of the house for a few more hours, playing in some casino tournament he'd won his way into on the edge of town. She left Candy and Greta in the shop to check on her dork brother, feeling a bit bad he was left home alone since Ford was at the shops.

Except she walked into the kitchen to see both her nerd twin And her Grunkle Ford, batting at egg creatures as they herded them into a box.

"Mabel!" Dipper called out, smiling and covered in egg yolk. "You won't believe what we've been up to! Grunkle Ford was trying to recreate that scene from Fantastica with the mops, but instead the cake baking itself, but then-!"

"Woah woah woah, okay Dip. Usually I'd be totally excited to hear what you dorks have been up to, but Ford! How could you!?"

"What? I'm baking the cake, as requested, its very serious business!"

"No, you used some kind of officer copier to make a copy of yourself and buy a cake at the shops, didn't you! Huh! Huh! I'm wise to you!" Both of the nerds gave her a stupid face.

"Mabel, I've been here the whole time. But this is concerning." The old man's face screwed up in concentration, one foot still holding the box of sentient eggs shut. "It could be any number of anomalies, a doppleganger? Living plant clone? Interdimensional traveller? Mabel, do you remember any details of this Not-Ford? Green skin, desire for human flesh? Second head?"

"I can do you one better, I never miss a scrapbook-tunity. Whoopah!" She slammed down three polaroids on the dining table, one of 'Ford' from behind, which was mostly a picture of his fancy leather trenchcoat, then one of him clutching a cake in fear, then one from farther off with him waving his hand at nothing.

Dipper picked up the one with the cake laughing at his funny stance, but Ford picked up the first, the only one without his dopplegangers face in it.

"We need to find this... False Ford. Before he does something dangerous. I'll get my flesh-ripping ray!" Grunkle Ford announced cheerfully, running off toward his basement lab. Dipper quickly launched himself to cover the box of eggs, and Mabel grabbed her sticker book to seal it shut while they were gone. She went with a muffin and chihuahuas theme.

---

Sixer ate half the cake, his stomach threatening to pull itself out of his body. "No, absolutely not. If you want to eat the othet half, you have to come out and do it yourself." He shook his head at the whine that echoed in his mind. After tucking away the other half in his bag, they went back into town to explore some more. Even got a red balloon from the Museum, which they promptly turned a nice shade of yellow.

The museum had everything from pickaxes and live dynamite from the founding days of Gravity Falls, to taxidermy animals and an entire room of eyeballs. It was interesting, and he'd have to get a better look at some of the items on display later, but all it really did was amp up their appetite for the Mystery Shack. Determined to do a few more tourist attractions before the main event, they headed out of the Museum to visit the Cemetery.

---

The Pines family and company split up to find Fake Ford. Wendy volunteered to check the roof, so Soos held down the fort in giftshop. Greta and Candy would bodyguard the bus station to make sure the Faker didn't skip town. Ford didn't want to split up the twins, and needed at least one person with him at all times to prevent anyone having to "chose the real him". So they headed to the shop to canvas witnesses, or try to pick up a trail.

"Huh? Oh yeah, you were in here earlier." The checkout clerk, a teen with a voice crack that could shatter glass, pointed at Ford.

"Yes yes, but where did I go after? Think, Sven, the world as we know it is in danger!" Ford grabbed him by his uniform suspenders, but all he did was point at the nametag that said Steven.

"Thats not even my name, man! But hey, if you got anymore those bars, it may jog my memory." Steven wiggled his eyebrows and Ford dropped him again, wiping off his six-fingered hands.

"Eugh. What do you mean, bars?"

The teen looked around before ducking behind the counter and, with much effort, dropping a gold bar on the conveyor belt.

"Woah!" The twins awed.

"Grunkle Ford is that real?" Dipper asked as Mabel reached toward it whispering "Shiiinyyy." The teen bapped them away and Ford put his arm between them before pulling out a raygun and pointing it at Steven.

"You have 5 seconds to tell me where he went, or what you call your flesh will go through a dimensional paper-shredder, leaving you nothing but a pile of bones."

Steven went white as a sheet and collapsed.

"So much for that lead." Ford sighed as Mabel chided him about honey and vinegar before he turned his gun toward the bagger, who had been leaning against the counter the entire time, a tired looking teen with purple hair. "You have 5 seconds to-!"

"Dude was talking to himself the whole time, said something about the History Museum." The teen popped the bubblegum in her mouth before continuing. "And for the record, I'm not telling you this because of your flesh gun thingy. I just like ratting people out."

"Ah. I see. To the Museum!" Ford shouted before running out of the store, Mabel and Dipper applogizing as they ran after him.

The trio followed Fake Ford's trail to the History Museum, where Real Ford found some particularly unnerving security footage they definitely legally obtained of the doppleganger changing the color of the balloon with the wave of a hand and flash of blue.

"No incantation, no talisman, Ford, can you do that?" Dipper asked, in awe. "He's magic!" Mabel chimed in.

"No, I cannot, and I don't want to know what he's done to be able to. We need to find this Ford." He forwarded the tape to follow the yellow balloon back to the entrance, the only camera with a mic.

"Hm? How about the cemetery, that sound alright? ....If we're lucky there may be a good spot to raise the dead." Fake Ford laughed after a pause and left. "If we're lucky!" Was the last thing they heard before he was out of sight. The three rushed out and headed toward the cemetery, the sun creeping toward the horizon by now.

The cemetery had no living residents to rat out a trail, no security footage to scour or even dead to talk to, all of whom were apparently too good for a ouiji board.

"What now?" Dipper asked, sitting at the entrance with Ford.

"Maybe he's just a tourist, I mean he hasn't done anything!" Mabel ventured.

"There's too many signs leading otherwise."

"Mabel is right, Ford. Whats one bad thing he's done? Pay in gold? Change the color of a balloon? Heck, he didn't even raise any dead!"

Ford stood suddenly, his face distant. "I can't say for sure, but, I have a bad feeling about how this Ford. The power he weilds is too familiar to be anything good. We need to find him."

Mabel looked down at her phone and replied to a text. "Well, we're running out of time. Greta and Candy are heading home right now, and Wendy went home an hour ago. Maybe we should regroup at the Shack and start in the morning?" Ford sighed and pinched his nose.

"Fine, fine. Stanley will be home soon anyway. Let's go, kids." All three hung their heads a bit as they went home, the entrance door bell ringing overhead.

"Soos? We're back!" Mabel called out, but Soos didn't hear them, apparently laughing it up with a late customer. They headed deeper into the shack only to stop short.

"Oh Mr Pines, that conveniently off screen story you shared was so funny!" The stranger leaning against the counter laughed as Soos shook his hand.

"Oh please, Mr Pines was my father, call me Sixer." Soos looked up just as they approached, waving.

"Oh hey lil dudes, Mr Pines. Look, its you, but another!"

The twins and Ford braced as 'Sixer' stood to full height before turning toward them. An exact copy of their Ford with a calculated look on his face, that suddenly broke into a smile.

---

"So there is another me here, its a pleasure!" Sixer reached out to shake his hand, when all three jumped to a defensive stance, Ford with a flesh-ripping raygun, the girl from the shop with a crossbow, and a boy, after fumbling with a book for a bit, to some sort of martial art stance.

"Are you insane!?" 46'\ Ford shouted, making his company flare with anger. He kept himself smiling and calm as Ford continued. "If you make contact with another version of yourself, this entire dimension will collapse!"

Sixer laughed and waved his hand. "Oh that? I solved that issue ages ago in the Dimension of Literals. You know that ongoing argument of 'nothing ever really touches because of the space between atoms'? I wont go into detail, but I can assure you, we can make contact safely, so maybe you can lower your 2.1.0.34 Version Flesh Ripper?"

Ford blinked and lowered his weapon a bit. "How did you know exactly what version this was?" Sixer smirked a bit and gestured to his bag.

"I'm on version 4.2.0.3. And I've met a few Fords in my day, not for a long while though."

"So wait, there's other universes where more of us exist? Are you an Author too? But, why are you here then?" The young boy spoke up, tripping over himself with questions.

"I'm just a tourist, certainly not the most common type of Ford. Not only do many infinite dimensions exist, but Alternative Universes as well, that either closely follow your lives, or branch off exponentially. I don't believe I've met you before though." Sixer held out a hand to shake his, and before Ford could stop them the child was shaking his hand vigorously.

"Its so cool to meet another Ford! I'm Dipper, thats my twin sister Mabel. Can you really do Magic? How? How many dimensions have you visited? Our Ford was stuck outside our world for 30 years, have you been travelling that long-?" He laughed at the child's excitement.

"You can call me Sixer, I much prefer it. And 30 years!" He looked up at Ford, whose raygun pointing at the floor by now. "Thats not bad at all! What made you want to come back?"

"That is none of your business, and you are not welcome here. Tourist or not, I just don't trust you." Sixer's smile fell finally, remembering why they hadn't visited another earth dimension in a long time.

"I'm not here to cause any trouble, we just wanted to see the dimension, its known for its incredible magnetic attraction for the weird and strange, far beyond any other Gravity Falls!"

"We?" Ford bit back, and Sixer shrunk in on himself a bit, the voice in his head finally chiming in to laugh.

"Oh shush" he muttered before addressing Ford. "I... I meant I wanted to see the dimension, I apologize, I've been travelling for.... a long time." The looks he got weren't exactly confident.

"Cmon Sixer, we could take em! Just throw them in a dimensional cube for a few days while we hang out!"

Sixer hissed at the voice in his head. "We don't do that willy nilly!"

"Who are you talking to?" Mabel asked, and Sixer jumped at suddenly being aware of her presence, since she had climbed onto the counter to inspect him closer.

"...Myself." He ventured.

"You're insane." Ford jabbed, crinkling his nose as if he'd smelt a Gongoozler.

"Sure I am, whats your point?" He replied in stereo with the voice in his head. Mabel reacted a bit to this, pulling Ford, Soos and Dipper into a group huddle.

"They think we can't hear them from that far away?" The presence chuckled, and Sixer laughed with him, covering his mouth as he looked around at the items on display again. Most were obviously fake, but just had so much Gravity Falls Charm it was enchanting. After a moment of deliberation, which he chose not to listen into by humming a song, they approached him again.

"Okay, Sixer." Ford started. "We've decided to allow you to... tour our dimension, as long as you stay within the confines of Gravity Falls, and a few more stipulations to be determined, such as not paying people in gold bars."

"We-ah, I, can't leave Gravity Falls due to its natural law of weirdness magnetism, so you won't have to worry about that. But, while I'm here if you'd like me to collapse the barrier-!" He offered, only to be met with a cacophony of 'No'.

"Okay-Okay! Well heard."

"You can stay in the spare room, Grunkle Sixer! There's always a spare, somehow." Mabel's face screwed up in concentration as Sixer and Ford replied in unison.

"Spacial anomalies from Grasside Omega."

"This is still a little weird." Dipper chimed in as Sixer laughed.

"Don't worry, we won't be in your hair for long." He replied, just someone burst in the door.

"Long story, they can't prove I cheated, Ford save me!" The man shouted as he raced into the shack with a pile of money in his hands, going to hide behind Sixer.

"Oh, uh, wrong Ford, sorry mister." The man looked at him proper as they both did a double-take. "Stanley...?"

Suddenly the entire party was rocked off their feet at a roar outisde, and something pounding the ground so hard it shook. They ran outside, leaving Soos and Stanley in the doorway. On the front lawn was an amalgamation of casino chips, cards and a slot machine for a face, formed into an anthropomorphic creature.

"Now that is quite something." Sixer laughed, and Ford quickly started looking in his journals for any information.

"Possibly a type of Tulpa, or guardian of the Casino? Stanley how do you get yourself into things like this?!"

The Casino Creature started pulling the roof off the Shack to try and get to Stanley. "Grunkle Ford, do something!" Dipper shouted.

"I think I have something in my lab that can-"

"No time!" Sixer shouted, running in front of them and placing his hands on the ground, starting an incantation to trap the beast. "Zuds wkh ehdvw lq d exeeoh!" He shouted as yellow symbols encircled it, creating a bubble around the creature to protect the Shack and themselves. "Dwwdfn- I mean, attack it now! Hurry!"

Mabel, still carrying her crossbow, started firing into the barrier, bolts sinking into the beast, but to no affect. Sixer flinched as the beast slammed into his magic, but held fast as Ford ran to get a device from his lab. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dipper helping his sister reload her crossbow with different bolts, one with flamestones tied to the end. He watched as the new bolts, while not hitting as high, burst into flame as the geode was shattered on impact. He braced himself for the heat radiating off it as the beast lit up with flames, otherwise unnerved.

"Grunkle Ford..!" The kids cried, just as Ford burst out with a weapon the size of a machine gun.

"Take this you oversized Bankroll!" Ford shouted as he shot a series of lasers at the beast in pulses, turning every card into a greeting card, and poker chips into potato chips, which all fell into a pile underneath the sentient slot machine, which howled and tried to hop away as Sixer lowered his shield.

The twins whooped and hollered as Ford smirked, hands on his hips. "Not bad, Sixer. The shield was cute. But its good I was here to finish it off."

Sixer stood and dusted his hands, eye twitching at his comment. Just as the twins were investigating Ford's weapon, the slot machine closed it's 'mouth' and started a high pitch sound. Sixer jumped in front of Ford and the twins and let his associate react for him, a large swirl of blue absorbing the golden blast, grinding his heels in as it pushed him back into Ford. Then he gladly returned the energy with blue flames, dissolving the cards, chips and slot machine to nothing, along with the grass caught in range.

Shaking the flames from his fingertips, he panted and turned to Ford and the twins, all of whom were clinging to his coat. "You guys alright?"

Ford quickly let go, looking around for his dimension to start melting, which, as he'd assured him, it did not. The twins started talking over themselves, asking him how he'd done that. His focus was on Ford, smirking a bit as he indulged in his own pride. "What do you think, Ford? Was that 'cute' too?"

"Ha! Showed up by your own-ah, what exactly is goin on, actually?" Stanley clapped them both on the shoulder, and Sixer couldn't help but stare a bit as Ford explained dimensional travel to him. Stanley picked wax out of his ear as he 'listened'.

Sixer shook himself out of staring as Dipper tugged on his arm, wanting to hear about his adventures.

"Well, I suppose I can start at the beginning. Im sure Ford and I have nearly identical backgrounds, however the reason for our travels are most likely where we diverge. After I learned almost every secret of Gravity Falls, even if only a page worth in my journal, I broke the barrier of the town to allow the weirdness to disperse across the world, to allow those creatures, beings and phenomenons to intermingle, grow and change. Its quite possibly going to be my longest running experiment, a couple centuries so far, if I remember to go back to it someday!

That's why I offered to break the barrier earlier, so I apologize if I stepped out of line."

"That could be incredibly dangerous for our world, especially if someday Bill found his way back alive...." Ford replied

"Could that... really happen?" Dipper asked, though Sixer could hardly hear over his heart racing in his ears as the twins continued with graphic exclamations of what they would do if "Bill came Back".

"Woah woah woah, what did he mean Alive?" The voice in his head practically shouted, starting to push himself forward in his mind. Sixer held fast, instead redirecting the conversation to how late it had gotten.

"Well with so much excitement, I think I'm going to turn in for the night... haha... if you still don't mind?"

Ford put a hand on his shoulder. "Not at all, I have to say I was a little apprehensive at first, but travelling the multiverse for centuries? I can't imagine what knowledge you've been able to unlock." Sixer laughed a bit at the flattery, waving a hand as they headed inside.

"Oh, I heard from Soos I had interrupted some festivities that involved cake? We had the other half earlier, but, as thanks, you're welcome to have it." Sixer carefully pulled out the half sheetcake from his bag. The family cheered, much to his associate's dismay.

#gravity falls au #gravity falls #writers block #strawberry felon au

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