#I wish I could say I made this up but I can’t we left meat on these bones I needed everyone to know

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Do my DPxDC brothers know about Phantom Girl????

Just wanted to check in with my DP x DC homies and make sure ya’ll know there’s a hero called Phantom Girl in Dc comics whose powers are all about intangibility and blowing shit up with “Negative zone” energy……

Now I’m just saying I think her and Danny would be friends and or they would beef over who has to go and change their names. She’s also an alien girl who was tragically stranded in another dimension for several decades who has aged strangely and no longer fits into the hierarchy of her home planet! So like you know if ur into space Danny vibes.

Anyway just wanted to make sure ya’ll knew, have a good day!

(art at the top done by me, art at da bottom done by Dc comics artist)

[experimentfae]

Alastor x Wife! Reader

Oneshot / fluff

After you and alastor had moved into the hotel to “help.” Let’s just say that the rest of the hotel residents saw pda all. The. Time.

Vaggie watched as alastor kissed your hand again! “Sweet satan can those two get a room already that’s literally the seventh time he kissed her hand.” She grumbled out “aw come on vaggie you have to admit it’s sweet seeing love like that’s down here, it’s rare, except our love of course.” Stated Charlie.

“I get it, we get like that, but the difference is that we do it SOMETIMES they do it EVERY TIME they have the chance.” She Argued “and besides I just really don’t like that radio dipshit.” “Oh please you don’t like anyone attached to a dick.” Angel dust butted in while he laid on the other couch busy looking at his phone.

Vaggie could only roll her eyes in response “well I think our pda is not of your concern.” Spoke alastor with a smug look which made everyone except you jump a little “satan’s asshole do you always have to come out like that?!” Argued angeldust “it’s more entertaining to watch all of you jump in a little scare.” Alastor replied proud of himself to make them a little scared.

“Dear even if it was quite hilarious we can’t do that to them all the time… it wouldn’t be entertaining anymore like that.” You advised him while you walked towards him to be next to him. “You’re right my dear, wouldn’t wish that.”

“Yep a match made in hell.” Grumbled out husk then he continued to take his beer “husk is right my dear we the perfect pair.” “I don’t think that’s what he meant sorta, but we are perfect for each other.” Just then you looked to see the clock then you let out a gasp “oh Al we don’t want to be late for our dinner reservations.” You stated, “oh yes, we must get ready.”

With a simple snap of his finger’s you and alastor were completely dressed “what’s up with the getup?” Angeldust questioned “it’s our anniversary, so we going to the cannibal colony to alastor’s favorite restaurant.” You smiled “wait you’re a cannibal too.” Vaggie asked in shock “well… I did try demon meat and it’s not that bad.” You answers shrugging your shoulders “so that’s a yes? Or … no?” Charlie questioned further “mmm yeah I believe so.” You answered again.

“Huh didn’t take you for a cannibal.” Spoke husk “yeah have you ate another’s man pecker and Al if she did would you be ok with that?” Questioned angeldust “absolutely not.” You both answered “enough with the questions we must hurry (y/n).” Demanded alastor “goodb- you didn’t get to finish you’re farewell due to alastor, once again he snapped his fingers and you were at the restaurant.

“Thankfully my love we made it on time.” Alastor spoke while he grabbed your hand and guided you inside the restaurant. A host was at the front seeming to writing something “welcome to the FedOnPals how may- when he looked up he immediately panicked “T-The alastor by hen smiled wider “yes me the radio demon and my lovely wife!” Alastor stated proudly also just because you knew he was an attention whore so he wanted others to know he was there.

Of course some of the cannibals in the restaurant seemed nervous. “Well- yes um of course I see you’re name on the list so… let me b-bring to your table.” The man said clearly wanting to get out of this situation as fast as possible.

Of course you two got the best seats in the house “a waiter will be with you shortly very… shortly p-promise.” The host immediately left with only made alastor chuckle “I do love the perks of being an overlord.” “Aw even more than me?” You teased with a smirk, he smiled wider “no dear you know I can’t love anything more than you.”

You smiled “I love the outfits you picked for us by the way very classy.” “Of course, only the best for my wife.” Just then a waiter came in “hello I’m Mindy and I’ll have your orders.” The demoness spoke as she gave you two the menus.

As the demoness left you two picked out your orders, ate, alastor paid then you two left to go to a jazz club to dance “oh honey you rembered my favorite spot.” You spoke with pure joy “I could never forget, besides our love for jazz is how we meet.” You smiled brighten as you pecked his cheek making him lightly blush “adorable.” “Me? adorable!? dear don’t joke like that.” Alastor demanded making you laugh “oh honey alright just having a little fun.”

Alastor opened the door for you, the song ‘lets misbehave’ by Irving Aaronson filled you’re ears “oh that’s a good song.” You stated, you thanked alastor and went through and he went after you.

You immediately dragged him to the dance floor which he happily let you, both you begin doing the Charleston funny enough this song always reminded you have alastor.

He then brought you into the foxtrot dance, you both looked into each others eyes that are filled with love. He the suddenly gave you a kiss making you blush but immediately kiss back.

You two continued dance, happy to in each others arms and having a loving relationship and knowing that you two where always will be inseparable.

<- Back to MasterList or back to Hazbin Hotel

[dark-frosted-heart]

Melted by Summer's Lust - Roger Barel (part 1)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Kate: Wow…! Roger, come and look at the view!

From the balcony of the villa, you could see the ocean glistening in the setting sun.

From the feeling of the warm sea breeze caressing my cheeks to the smell of the air far different from London’s, everything was fresh.

Roger: Take it easy. Getting too excited on day one can affect you from tomorrow onward.

Kate: I can’t help getting excited at the thought of us spending 6 days on vacation together.

—A week ago while finishing up research, I had proposed that we take a vacation.

It was necessary that we took a proper rest if we wanted to continue being together forever.

Afterward, Victor offered to help when he heard my proposal…

He gave us 6 days off and rented a villa owned by his friend, Viscount Morris, on a lone island.

(I’m going to enjoy my vacation with Roger to the fullest!)

--

—Our first night. We had dinner, bathed, and then lay in bed.

Kate: What do you want to do tomorrow?

Roger: We’re the only ones on the island, right? Then…I wanna love you thoroughly without having to care about being seen.

Roger rolled on top of me and kissed me.

Kate: Mnnn…

With each kiss, my body felt like it was melting.

Mustering what sense I had left, I pushed back against his chest.

Kate: Wait, Roger. Why did we take this trip?

Roger: For pleasure?

Kate: Right! So we’ll do “this” once during our trip so that you can get some rest!

Roger: Only once…but how far is “this”? Are you banning kissing and small touches?

Kate: Then how about we go “all the way” only once.

Roger: So I can put it in once.

Kate: D-don’t just say it out loud like that…!

Roger: We gotta make things clear. But…well, once is enough.

I felt disappointed by how easily he agreed to it.

Roger: What’s with that look? You want more, don’t you?

Kate: I don’t!

Roger laughed at how I denied it with a flushed face.

Roger: …To be honest, there’s something I wanna try out. That’s why I agreed to it.

Kate: Something you want to try out…?

Roger: What do you think about…dragging “nightly activities” over the course of 5 days?

(Five days…?!)

Roger: Doesn’t look like you’re against it.

Kate: I’ve never heard of this, so I’m curious. What does this involve?

Roger: During the first four days, we kiss and touch each other, slowly building up the mood. On the fifth day, we have sex. The time we spend together gives a lot of emotional satisfaction… And an awful lot of pleasure.

(An awful lot of pleasure…)

Roger: …Well, that’s what I heard while at a pub. Don’t know how true it is. It’s a thing that takes 5 days to do, and since we don’t wanna be seen during it, we haven’t had a chance to try it.

(A 6-day long vacation with just the two of us on a lone island, with him only allowed to “put it in once”...) 

(...This is the best time to try it out)

Roger: So, how about it?

Kate: O-okay. Let’s do it!

Roger: Haha. I’m the one that brought it up, but you really wanna have sex, huh?

Kate: It’s not that…! Since we’re on vacation, I wanted to fulfill your wish.

Roger: …That so? Thanks. Can’t wait to see how turned on my lover gets over the next 5 days.

--

Thus began the first day.

Kate: Um…Roger. Are we really doing this right?

I was just lying in bed in Roger’s arms.

Roger: Yeah. The first day’s just talking and cuddling ‘til we fall asleep…Feeling unsatisfied?

Kate: N-no! This…isn’t that bad. I’m just happy to get a good night’s sleep with you.

I snuggled against Roger. Enveloped by his warm body heat, I’m sure I’d sleep well today.

(I heard it gives an intense amount of pleasure, but going at this rate, it probably doesn’t do anything)

—4 more days until I regret overestimating this.

--

—Day 2, noon.

Kate: Wow, are we having a barbecue today?!

Meat and vegetables were spread out on a table in the garden of the villa. The aroma of the freshly cooked food made me hungry.

Roger: I just finished cooking. Let’s eat ‘em while they’re hot.

Kate: Thanks for the meal! 

I immediately took a bite out of the large piece of meat in front of me.

Kate: Delicious…!

Roger: Hehe. You eat like Ale.

Kate: I…would really like to feed this to Ale.

(Ale was supposed to come with us…)

(But we didn’t bring him with us, but the boat ride would be a burden)

Roger: Ale’s probably getting a nice meal at Crown Castle. …After having some meat, we got this next.

Kate: Ah, there’s beer too!

Roger: Grilled meat and beer is the best combo. I asked for them ahead of time.

After eating some meat, he chugged his beer.

Roger: Phew…that hit the spot!...Come on, you drink some too.

I followed Roger’s lead and had a cup myself.

Kate: This is amazing…!

Roger: Yeah. Having beer and meat during the day…It’s the best way to kick off a vacation. Alright, I’m gonna grill some more so eat all you want.

It was endearing to see how happy Roger looked when grilling meat and vegetables, and then eating and drinking with an innocent smile.

(Ah…Roger’s glittering again)

And I knew it wasn’t because of the sun.

--

—Day 2, night. Today’s step was only touching and kissing.

Kate: Mnn, nn…

Roger kissed me repeatedly. 

His large hand cupped my head.

Even something as simple as a gentle kiss was enough to overwhelm me.

Kate: …Roger.

Roger: Hm?

When I said his name, he stopped and looked at me.

I loved the way this egoist’s amber eyes softened as he waited for me to speak.

Kate: I love you…I really love you.

Roger: What’re you saying something so cute for?

Kate: My heart feels so full and I just had to let it out.

Roger: Think my patience is being tested. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.

The desperation in Roger’s voice made my heart speed up.

…But I’ve always felt this way.

(Will I really feel an “awful lot of pleasure” after this?)

Only 3 days left to disprove my doubts. 

[weldingmetal]

How do you think cybertronians would react to our mouths? The fact that the mouth can easily bite and rip off your or someone else's pinky finger with such ease, almost like biting into a carrot. The brain only stops you from doing so.

So like I think in this scenario it’s not the fact that they have mouths that freaked them out, it’s the fact of what they do with said mouths as well as teeth.

Unlike Cybertronians human eat and chew where they mostly drink. Humans teeth are made to tear into flesh. Just predicons had sharp teeth to eat living mechanisms we have canines to eat meat.

Although that isn’t to say that bots teeth can’t be sharp. I believe if they ate non refined energon in its crystal form their denta would get sharp. I mean look a TFP Megatron. We know that he loved his space crack- I mean dark energon. So I wouldn’t doubt that centuries of eating the stuff would make his mouth look like a piranha.

But sharp teeth/denta for bots isn’t normal.

I can imagine how visceral it would be for a bot to watch a human or animal tear into meat or eat and chew things that should be to hard for soft organics.

So imagine a bot’s reaction to a humans mouth and teeth at work.

Here is a blurb of a possible reaction.

________________________________________

Bulkhead tired to think of a way out of this.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. It was supposed to be practically nothing. Now he’s tied up, can’t move or sever his binds, and he still doesn’t know where Miko went.

He let her wonder off and now who knows where she-

“Bulkhead!”

As if Primus himself heard him he heard his charges voice.

“Bulkhead where are you we have to-“

She turned the corner to find Bulkhead. Tied up in some kind of cable.

“I’m sorry Miko, I was ambushed. I would get us the frag out of here but…I’m a little tied up.”

He says looking down at his binds. Miko runs up to him.

“You gotta try Bulk, the decepticons were after me back there. I lost them but they could come any second!”

“I wish I could Miko. But there are to many loops in my binds around me to break free. I would be able to if I could break just a few of them, maybe if you can find somethi-!”

Then deep in the cave stomping peds could be heard. Miko was full on panicking. She ran up to her bot. Her friend. She tugged and tugged. She knew everything would be okay if she could just break a few.

“It’s no use Miko! I’ll be fine you need to go! Please Miko, run and hide!”

Miko looked up at the bot, her bot, in fear. She looked towards the impending doom before back to Bulkhead and his pleading look.

Something in her snapped.

Her face lit up in anger and she screamed-

“NO!”

She bit down on the cable, electric sparks lighting up around the corners of her mouth as she tugged and bit and thrashed her head back and forth like a wild animal until the cable broke.

She went for another

*crunch zzzt snap*

“I’m.”

*crunch zzzt snap*

“Not.”

*crunch zzzt snap”

”Leaving you.”

*crunch zzzt snap*

“Behind!”

Bulkhead with all his might flexed and pulled and stood and broke his binds just as the vehicons rounded the corner. He picked Miko up and dashed out of the cave dodging blasts aimed at him.

He looked down at Miko and gasped. The corners of her mouth were burned and bloodied. Her jaw was snapping and seizing no doubt from the electric current she continued to bite…for his sake.

As he left the cave and was able to get a signal to comlink and ask for a ground bridge he was wracked with heavy and thick guilt.

He was supposed to be the strong one. He stopped thinking when he heard Miko groan and speak.

“G-guess I s-saved you this time h-huh Bulkhead?”

Bulkhead thought he would cry, in fact he was almost certain he was tearing up. Despite everything Miko, his sparkling charge was still smiling.

As he ran into base he yelled for Ratchet, to do something anything to help Miko.

June and eventually Fowler was called. June bandaged Miko’s mouth and said that she probably won’t have any lasting scars and if she did they would fade.

After the kids were sent home the bots rightfully demanded to know what happened.

Bulkhead explained everything, even the way Miko seemed to go feral.

After that bots went to bed with deep unease in their tanks.

How could something so small have a bite that hard, and still undoubtedly be sentient.

Bulkhead didn’t recharge that night.

Who could blame him with the image of mostly innocent Miko desperately and frantically tore into the cable like a feral animal. All because he wasn’t strong enough.

[yowyowyaoi]

*Kakuzu and Hidan return to the hideout after a mission; Kakuzu goes straight to his room, and after a while, Hidan follows him*

Hidan: Oi, ‘Kuzu … is something wrong?

Kakuzu, sitting on his bed quietly counting out a stack of money: No. All is well. 

Hidan: *pauses, then moves to stand at the edge of the bed* You’re lying to me, fucker. When ya lie to me ya don’t let me see your eyes.

Kakuzu: In case you’re somehow not seeing what’s in front of your eyes, I’m engaged in something else at the moment, and it requires my full attention.

Hidan: Oh, gimme a fuckin’ break, man. You could count that shit blindfolded. Seriously, what’s up your ass today? You’ve been acting weird since this morning.

Kakuzu: I doubt that you’d understand, brat. 

Hidan: I wish you’d stop treating me like some dipshit kid, old bastard. Me and you … we’re not just fucking, right? We … we got something else goin’ on, right?

Kakuzu, quietly: Yes, we do. 

Hidan: Okay then, you need to start telling me when things are wrong instead of finger-fucking your money.

Kakuzu: *sighs, and scoops up the bills on the bed, putting them on the dresser before patting the spot where they had been* Shut that door, and then come and sit here, please.

*Hidan does as asked and sits by Kakuzu*

Hidan: Well?

Kakuzu: *reaches out with both strong arms and pulls Hidan against his chest, resting his chin in Hidan’s hair*

Hidan, blushing: O-oi! What the hell?!

Kakuzu: Hidan. I … I don’t think I can do this much longer …

Hidan: Well then let go of me, weirdo!

Kakuzu: Not that! I mean … this whole thing. Being in the Akatsuki. The missions, the fighting, the constant traveling and injuries and cheap food and sleeping outside in all kinds of weather … I just can’t anymore.

Hidan: … have you said any of this to Leader?

Kakuzu: Tsk; of course not! He’d kill me for sure!

Hidan: 

Hidan: If you left the Akatsuki, what would you do? Where would you go?

Kakuzu: With luck, drop off the face of the earth. Find a secluded woods somewhere, build a nice little cabin. Hunt, fish, trap furs. Grow things, maybe. But … I can’t. 

Hidan: Why?

Kakuzu: Hidan. As you said earlier, the situation between us involves more than our sexual relationship. In my planning I need to take you into consideration. As absurd as I think they are, you’ve made it clear that you need your Jashin rituals, and the killings, in order to survive. More than that, in order for you to be happy. I can’t uproot you away from something that provides you with a steady stream of —

Hidan: ‘Kuzu. You’ve got to be the biggest dumbest fucker of all time. You realize that I actually need YOU more than any of that shit?

Kakuzu: You do?

Hidan: Yeah, I do. What if we did this thing, and went and made a home for ourselves? Had some little fuckers and all that? It’s not like I still couldn’t find people to sacrifice or you couldn’t still be hunting bounties, right? We’d just have to be careful, and it’s not like we ain’t already used to being careful and shit, so we —

Kakuzu: *pulls Hidan into a deep kiss*

Kakuzu: Hearing you say “we” … makes me feel better than anything in this world. I love you, Hidan.

Hidan, face on fire: L-love you too, you old sap. Now what are we gonna do?

Kakuzu: We have plenty of time to think about it. And at any rate, I know how we can solve at least one of our problems…

*picks out a few large bills from the stack he’d been counting*

Kakuzu: Let’s go out to eat, get some real food for once, eh?

Hidan: … you mean meat?

Kakuzu: Yes, all the bloody meat you want. And bread that doesn’t taste like sawdust, and potatoes …

Hidan: Dessert too?!

Kakuzu: *smiles* Don’t push it, brat.

[randoimago]

Day 16. Love Triangle Turned Poly, Felix x Reader x Sylvain

Note(s): A bit of angst, thinking it's unrequited love but it's not. Everyone is just an idiot.

requested by @beawesome04

Felix is annoyed by how much he likes you. He hasn’t felt this way about anyone. He hasn’t felt like his heart would burst each time you smile at him or laugh at something he said (which he wasn’t even trying to be funny).

Even accepting that he liked you was frustrating. He wanted to blame you for some magic gone astray. Or maybe the meat wasn’t cooked properly. But as hard as he tried to search for excuses, he knows that he can’t continue to push down his feelings.

At least, he thought that. And then he saw Sylvain.

His best friend since childhood, one person that hasn’t left his life even though he tried pushing everyone away. A man that also made his heart race so fast, he’d think it’s palpitating.

Sylvain, who he watches flirt with you. And you smile and laugh along. It makes his heart ache in a completely different way. But he knows Sylvain. He knows when the redhead is just playing. The look in his eyes towards you is not one for a fling. And who is Felix for trying to get in the way of that?

Sylvain has always only chased others because “it’s his duty” to spread his crest and make a powerful heir. Or whatever political bs that goes around at this academy.

And yet, when it comes to you, he’s not interested in testing your loyalty. He doesn’t want to know if you like him only for his crest. He’d laugh it off and say, “I knew it”, but his heart will be broken. It’d be rather ironic, the playboy having a broken heart.

But Sylvain hasn’t made any attempts besides flirting like usual. The reason? Felix. His best friend, a man that constantly shrugs off his flirting and thinks that Sylvain doesn’t mean his words. His best friend that doesn’t realize how Sylvain was chasing him before you. His best friend that also loves you. Sylvain might act like a carefree playboy, but he knows the look in Felix’s eyes. And no way in hell will Felix do anything to break Felix’s heart. Even if it means having his own break while watching the two of you together.

And it’s like that for a while. A frustrating situation of Felix wanting to be closer but stopping and Sylvain flirting “meaninglessly”. And you, caught in the middle of two men you’ve also learn to care for. But you don’t do much besides being friendly as you’ve seen how Felix looks at Sylvain when the playboy isn’t looking. And you’ve even seen Sylvain’s own soft looks towards the swordsman. The last thing you want is to ruin their relationship because you got in the way.

So, nothing happens between the three of you besides longing looks and wishing for more. And it ends up being a regret that nothing happened when Edelgard attacks the academy, and everyone has to go home to prepare and process the fact that you're at war.

“Will you two go flirt in a different room?” Felix snaps, unable to help it as you three are in the training area together, preparing for the final battles to hopefully end the war. Sure, Sylvain has been flirting with you and you’ve exchanged words back, but you didn’t think it was that bad.

You all met up again, relieved to see that each other is okay. But of course, with the stress of war adding to the tension that is still happening between the three of you, things would inevitably boil over.

“You could join in,” Sylvain retorts, causing a scoff from Felix.

“Please, as if either of you want me around.” That causes both you and Sylvain to be taken aback. You know Felix can be extra hard on himself, but this was new.

“Felix, of course we want you around,” you tell him. You don’t need to speak for Sylvain, but the other man looks so guilty and hurt that you do.

“So you can rub it in?”

“What is your problem?” You’re surprised by the harsh tone Sylvain has. You’ve heard it before when he chastised girls that eventually admitted using him for his crest.

“My problem is how you’re constantly flirting with each other and always state you’re being ‘friendly’. My problem is how I’m always given a second glance as if you’re pitying me for being a damned third wheel!”

“The second glances are because i don’t want to break your heart, you dastard!”

You’re definitely surprised with how heated things are getting.

“Break my heart? What are you talking about?” Felix scoffs and so does Sylvain. You see him open his mouth, but you step in to try and deescalate.

“I see the way you look at Sylvain, Felix. I don’t want to get between that.” Sylvain looks very confused by your words. You’re also confused to his reaction, but you continue. “And he looks at you the same way. I don’t want to-“

“What are you talking about? I love you both,” Felix interrupts, looking a tad annoyed that he was called out. “And Sylvain loves you. I don’t know how the hell you think he likes me-“

“Wait. Wait.” Sylvain cuts Felix off and you’re sure the swordsman is going to be more mad, but Sylvain sends him a look. “All of us are idiots.”

“Speak for yourself.” You can’t help saying and Sylvain gives you an unimpressed look.

“I flirt with you because i’m in love with you,” Sylvain says and you’re surprised by it. You hear Felix scoff and Sylvain continues before he gets upset again. “But I’m also in love with Felix. Have been for a long time.”

That makes Felix shut up, not expecting to hear that. “You love me?” He whispers, not quite believing it. “I thought you and-“

“I kept giving you second glances because I saw how you looked at them and didn’t want to ruin it for you,” Sylvain admits and your eyes soften at the two.

“Well, I think I should make my feelings clear too,” you say and the boys look at you. “I love you both. But i’ve seen how close you both are and didn’t want to ruin it.”

It’s silent between the three of you as the words process in all of your heads. It’s been a constant angst battle, thinking feelings were unrequited. But in reality, it’s the furthest from the truth.

“We are idiots.” You break the silence and Sylvain chuckles while Felix tries not to smile, instead pouting.

“If you didn’t want to break my feelings then why were you flirting? You made me think I didn’t stand a chance, jerk,” Felix huffs and Sylvain rolls his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, I’m an asshole. Now let me kiss you and make up for it.” You and Felix are taken aback by that and you watch as Sylvain kisses the swordsman. A smile comes to your face as you see Felix soften for once, watching him enjoy the kiss and his cheeks flush.

Sylvain pulls back and turns to you, smiling brightly. “And I’m not leaving you out.” You laugh a bit before Sylvain pulls you into a kiss too. You feel him melt against you, his hands holding you tightly to him.

“Don’t hog them to yourself,” Felix mutters and you feel Sylvain’s chest rumble as he chuckles against you. He steps back, holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

Felix kisses you and it’s a bit awkward, his lips are slightly chapped, but he still does his best to kiss you. He pulls back and there’s a small smile on his face, cheeks more flushed.

You three are idiots for not realizing each other's true feelings. But you’re definitely going to make up for it.

[lavishl0ve]

🩸Johhny Slaughter x Fem Reader🩸 (Part 2)

Part 2 continuation of my Part 1 Reader, I plan to make many more of these (which can also be read as a stand alone) but I heavily suggest reading the parts before these since I do reference some connections within previous parts! Again, these are my first fics and i’m not like an english major or whateva so i apologize if it isn’t perfect. Thank you and enjoy 🤩 (First part is on my page :)

Part 2: Scars

My dreams only remind me of the terror I wished to avoid. Ana screams echo throughout my head. I should have helped her, sacrificed myself. Maybe she could have been the one to escape. I curl into myself sitting on the rough mattress waiting, and waiting. Waiting for what? I’m not sure. May death have mercy and greet me with a cold kiss in my sleep. But death is late. I’ve lost count on how many days it's been, weeks? Each day that Johnny man swaps out my bandage, sometimes we exchange a few words but our encounters are usually in silence. With each encounter I grow with worry. Once the infection leaves my ankle is that when he’ll murder me? Oh god. Will I take Julie’s place on that meat hook..? I can’t think about it. I feel sick. Scratching interrupts my thoughts. That notifying sound of someone entering the basement, is it bad I was hoping it was Johnny? He was the only family member presenting some type of remorse or maybe it was just his job to make sure their food isn’t contaminated. Their. Food. I shake the thought. Sissy treds over and suddenly I'm disappointed. Better her than that cook though, last time he brought me food he spat in it. Safe to say I didn’t eat it. Not that the food is good anyways. She slides the plate under the small gap the bars have.

“Here Sugar.”

I look up at her giving her a small nod. Maybe I would have smiled if it wasn’t the same stew as always. But it’s better than starving…right? She stands for a moment watching me and sits down. I stare reluctantly at her.

“Go on, you’ll like it today. I made it.” She giggled.

Scooting forward I grasp the plate. It’s hot today. I take a small portion of the meat and take a bite. I chew once then twice. It’s incredibly tough, I let it linger in the back of my mouth acting like I swallowed it. She laughs again.

“How’s that red headed friend of yours taste?”

She mocks me poiking her razor blade through the bar so that it's mere inches from my face. I spit the chewed meat at her,

“You fucking monster!” I yell and I throw my plate at her.

shards of porcelain shatter on the floor from the impact, a few shards cutting her stew stained face.

She grabs my shirt through the bar hitting my head against the iron bars

“You fuckin’ bitch.” She screams, shaking me against the bars.

She takes her razor blade and slices right underneath my left eye.

“Eye for a fuckin’ eye.” she scowls, “Next time it’ll be more than that.”

She throws me on the ground, some of the chipped porcelain pieces cutting my legs. She leaves. I occupy my time picking the shards out of my legs.

—————————————————————-

I wake up to the thud of his boots approaching. Death had not visited me tonight. Unless Johnny is death. I see him walk towards the cell looking at the shards on the ground. He groans. Maybe he knows what happened. Entering, I face toward the opposite wall hiding the cut Sissy had given me. Maybe I'll just let this one get infected and die. He sits on the mattress right next to me removing the same compact tin and gauze again. I refuse to face him. He takes my ankle and unwraps the gauze himself.

“It’s better.” He remarks.

He goes through the daily process , applying the topical cream, then wrapping it up. He sighs.

“You’se alright sweetheart?” He questions.

“Don’t let er’ scare you.” He glances over left toward my face.

He saw the dried blood that had ran along my cheek. He grabs my chin with two fingers and turns my head to see the cut better.

“Fuckin’ Sissy.” He hissed through his teeth.

Johnny rose and stomped out the basement without another word. You didn’t hear the scratch of the door close though. Maybe this is my time to escape! But how the hell will I get out? I reach outside the bars fumbling with the lock. Impossible without a key… or a bobby pin. Digging into your messy hair hoping to find a remaining pin you used the day you guys got caught. It took some time but it was there. I unfold the bobby pin and inserting it into the lock trying to hear those “clicks” Connie talks about. I was never as good as Connie, although she tried to teach me, I had always got frustrated. I twist around the pin, unable to hear the noise. I click my tongue in frustration. I try to remove the pin, trying to restart. It snaps. Fuck. You throw the pin on the ground and sit back against the cold wall.

Johnny yells, “The hell you do to er’ Sissy?”

“She jus’ needed a lil’ lesson Johnny.” She replies, “Was actin’ like a bitch.”

Some words were muffled, at the end of their argument Johnny's words were loud enough to echo throughout the whole house.

“Don’t cha’ go on touchin’ my fuckin’ things Sissy!” he yells, “Or ya’ gonna get it worse than er’.”

You hear a door slam.

——————————————————————

The next morning you awaken to Johnny banging on the cell.

“Wake up.”

I rub my eyes, vision coming into view. Johnny unlocks the cell and grabs your wrist.

“Cmon’.”

“What- where are we going?” you ask.

You’ve never been out of the cell. Is this the end of your demise? Johnny clecthes some sort of emerald green fabric in his left hand. He leads you throughout the house towards the back walking through the kitchen, the sink stained red at the glance you get. We step outside, it’s still dark out, my bare feet touch the grass and I breathe in the fresh air. Finally, a nice change. He leads you toward the same shed which you first encountered him in. Pulling the switch on to turn on the lights you make out the space. Some kinda workshop of his I assume. He walks you through the side door which opens toward the back. He shoves a hose into your hand.

“Clean yourself off.”

Stunned you just stare at him, you can’t see much since the darkness covers his face. You wait.

“You gonna turn around…?” I ask uncomfortably.

“I gotta make sure you don’t run away sweetheart.”

You feel your cheeks blush, but you can’t resist a shower. (A somewhat shower). You walk a few steps from him. Facing away, you take off your shirt, then your underwear. Since you can’t see him he surely can’t see you right? At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turn the knob right and the cold water splashes immediately at your feet. You whince at the sudden shock, Johhny laughs under his breath.

“It ain’t gettin’ any hotter, make it quick.”

I suck it up and point the hose over my head dousing my hair, I bite the inside of you cheek. The water runs down my spine. I coat my hair, wash the dried blood off my cheek, thighs and scrap the stew remanents off on hands. Wow how I miss warm showers. I look back towards johnny he leans against the barn, cigarette in mouth, he glances back over like he knew I was watching him. I turned around finishing my “shower”. As I turned the knob off I hear johnny shift off the shed wall.

“ ere’.” He say’s cigarette in mouth.

He throws me the emerald cloth he’s been holding. I unfold it revealing some short dress. Probably Sissy’s. I pull the fabric over my head, then squeeze out the excess water in my hair. I walk back towards Johnny.

“So,” I pause, “Back to the cellar now?” I shrug.

“Naw’.” He throws the cigarette to the ground grinding it with his boot.

I’m taken aback as he walks away, I assume he intends I follow him. I quicken my steps with little hops and skips, the dirt collecting on my wet feet.

“Where we going?” I ask quickening my pace trying to catch up with him.

Johnnys strides are long, almost double mine. I skip every now and then just to catch up. He stays silent to my question. As we approach some junkyard filled a bunch of old rusted cars Johnny strides over to the back of an truck and puts down the cargo-bed hopping on the edge as he pulls out another cigarette. I stand there, what do I do? I take a moment then just decide to do the same, dangling my feet as he stares . He offers me the box,

“Oh no, I don’t-“

He nods and snatches the box away back into his pocket. The sun rises over the horizon painting his face a lovely orange and golden color. I study Johnny more in depth, his dark eyes stare into the sunset. Wow. Am I crazy? Or is he strangely attractive. A piece of his slicked hair falls in front of his face as he leans down towards his red lighter igniting his cigarette. His nose is so perfectly straight, jaw, hand sculpted. No Y/N stop. This is insane. I avert my attention towards the sunset hoping it’d change my thoughts but it can’t. I can feel him staring at me. He drops his head back down holding his cigarette between his legs as his forearms rest on his thighs. His forearms. I glance at them. Scar-covered. I decide to break the silence.

“How’d you get those?”

He scoffs, “Which ones?”

“These.” I trace the scars on his upper bicep.

“Barfight.” he mutters puffing his smoke again.

“Well… you’d win?”

He scoffs, “I always~ win Darlin’.”

The way he dragged out his S sent me into spiral. What is wrong with me?

“What about this?” I ask pointing to his left hand.

“Nubbins. He’d always set up traps when we ‘er kids.” He pauses, “Left a pretty good god damn mark.”

I nod agreeing with him.

“I’d suppose yours will leave more though’.” He winks and nods toward my ankle.

I purse my lips together.

“How about this one?” I ask moving his strand of hair, hinting at the scar going down his eye.

His eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t answer. Serious subject. We sit there for a minute.

“My Maw’…”

We stare at each other for a moment. His puffs the cigarette again, jumping off the cargo-bed. Did I fuck this up?

“We outta go back inside before they know I brought chu’ out.”

I jump down, “Back to the cellar?” I sigh.

A simple Mhmm rumbles between his lips. I look back towards the sunrise soaking up each ounce I could receive. Who knows if this is my last time seeing the sun, let alone the sun rise. But in the end, I guess beautiful things aren’t meant to last.

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 5 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Needing peace of mind, you search for it in the familiar and find it in the unexpected.

Author’s Notes: Chapter five of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Five: Fleeting Peace

Word count: 3703

I fear this may be the most foolish thing I’ve gotten myself into to date. The woman, still nameless, is in mourning or grief or both and rarely speaks. Makes me wonder what she was like before all this drama. And here I am, more idiot than guide, leading her toward land unknown by either of us. The blind leading the blind. It’ll be a miracle if we make it out alive.

~

It had been two days, and you still could not stop thinking of that elk, of your father’s words in your ear, of the older man reminding you of your mother. Your mind was running in circles, an endless stretch of memory and reality closing in on each other. The only bit of normalcy to speak of was the return of your appetite.

You had eaten twice since waking on your back in that camp wagon, half whole again, the ability to keep food down born of necessity rather than any sort of want. That had led to your hunger returning, and it burned through you now with a vengeance.

It was night, you and the man had stopped and made camp, and he was cooking meat over the flames of the fire, the smell making you understand why wolves were so drawn to carnage. Your stomach was rumbling with want.

“You want some?” he asked, not even bothering to look up at you. You wished he would—you were sure your hunger was written across your face. But he didn’t, so you were forced to respond.

“Please.”

After cooking it through, he handed you half. You tore into it like a wild animal.

“Glad to see you’re eating again. I was worried this would be a short trip, starting with you starving to death.”

You shot him a glance but kept eating, needing it more than air.

Once you finished, you debated going out to kill something yourself. You were that hungry. But the thought was cut short.

“So. You ever actually been to Nebraska before?” he asked.

“No.” You backtracked, considering. “Once.”

“Which is it?”

“I’ve been once.” If you could call that being. But you didn’t elaborate. He called you on it.

“Well. Ain’t you just full of talk.”

“Always.”

He laughed. The sound drew your attention, nearly startling you. Then you realized what you had said and grew somewhat proud—your old humor finally resurfacing. It gave you the courage to speak a little more.

“My momma got pregnant with me in Nebraska. She and Pa left before they knew, but I guess it counts.”

“I guess it does,” he said. “So you made this journey before, huh?”

“I have,” you said, thinking fondly on your parents so proud to have a child together, wanting to start their lives with no one but you up in the mountains. “Though I can’t say I’ll be much help with directions.”

Arthur smiled this time, a crooked-looking thing. “No, I wouldn’t think so.”

Braving the unsettling feeling you got from talking, you went on. “Have you ever been?”

He reached in his satchel and pulled out a box of cigarettes. “Passed through a couple times. Never stopped long enough to say I’ve really been there.”

“I bet you’ve been all over.”

He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and eyed you. “What makes you say that?”

You shrugged. “Folks you run with. All those wagons.”

He nodded, lighting a match on his boot and bringing it to his mouth, cupping his hand around the flame so the wind wouldn’t catch it.

After he took a long drag, smoke curling up and whipping away, he offered you the box. You waved it away.

“Don’t smoke?”

“Don’t know how.” You said it before thinking better of it, and Arthur’s resulting expression made you wish you had come up with something else. There was a gleam in his eyes, like a boy with a scheme.

“Don’t know how? It ain’t hard.”

You shrugged, cutting off opportunity for him to push. But push he did. He held out the box to you once more. “Take one. It’ll take the edge off.”

You looked away. There was no taking the edge off. Not when the edge was as big as a mountain. A cliff to fall over.

He sat back, stowing them. “Suit yourself.”

The remainder of the night passed quickly. You bundled up in the spare bedroll you’d been given and cut out the cold, cut out everything. You were exhausted. Your side was aching after all the riding. Your whole body was. But that just leant to heavier sleep, which soon came to you quicker than it had in a long time.

You slept the whole night through. You awoke later than usual, though still early. An old habit formed by hard days of work better spent in the mornings.

Sitting up, you took in your surroundings and found Arthur kneeling by the fire. He saw you stir. “Morning. Sun’s up before you this time.”

He was exaggerating about the sun. The morning still had that blue glow to it that only a barely risen sun could make.

You made to stand anyway and sucked in a breath—the pain in your side was going nowhere. You felt your bandages under your layers to make sure they weren’t damp with blood.

“Nigh time you rewrap that anyway,” Arthur said, eyeing your hands.

“It’s fine,” you told him, trying again to stand. This time you managed it, but it must not have been a very impressive show of it. Noticing, Arthur made for you. He stepped into your space, making you retreat into yourself until he lifted your coat from your side, checking your bandages himself like it was any other thing. For some reason, you let him.

“Yeah, I’d say change these.” He stepped back. “Don’t want ‘em getting dirty.”

You stared blankly at him. You had nothing to replace the bandages with.

He gave you an amused look. “Didn’t think I came that unprepared, did you?” He walked over to his horse, pulling out more cloth from his saddle bags. “You make me take you all this way and I’m sure as shit getting you there in one piece,” he said, unraveling the cloth. He brought it over and held it out to you. You took it, glad he didn’t try to do it himself.

Realizing you would have to near abouts undress your torso entirely to rewrap it, you turned away, stepping into the nearby trees. You started shedding layers, each movement pulling on your stitches. You’d never had stitches before. Never been hurt this badly. You suddenly hoped more than anything this man knew what he was doing.

“How long do I have to keep these in?” you called out, finally getting to the bandages.

“The stitches? Depends,” he replied. “Until the skin starts to heal back together. Which in your case may be a while.”

How long was that? You thought to ask but stopped when you got all the wrapping off and saw your injured side again. It was a nasty sight. A giant bruise, black, yellow on the edges. Scraped skin. A jagged red cut with stitches holding it together, nearly six inches long. You could only sit there and look at it a moment, trying your best not to think about how you got it.

“How do you take them out?” you blurted.

“Just cut the knot and pull. Won’t even hurt.”

Like hell it wouldn’t. You had half a mind not to let him near you again.

“How’s it look?” he asked. “Swollen at all?”

Desperate not to look at the wound a second longer, you started wrapping it, not caring if it was green so long as you didn’t have to see it carving up your side.

“No,” you answered. It truthfully wasn’t. A little agitated, but considering the damage, that seemed expected. You probably should have cleaned it a little but used the excuse of there not being any water around.

You finished winding the cloth around your middle, securing it before observing your work. It was shoddy. You let your short chemise back down, and it bunched up where you had tied the bandage off. You let out an annoyed breath, smoothing it over best you could before putting your shirt back on. When you tucked it in, you purposely left it baggy. No need to draw Arthur’s attention, make him feel the need to rewrap it.

You donned your vest and coat, making sure your father’s ledger was still in the inside pocket, and stepped out of the trees.

Arthur turned your way. “You sure it’s fine? You’d tell me if it looked like it was gonna kill you, right?”

You didn’t respond. Even though it didn’t look bad, dying from natural causes didn’t seem like something you could stop. It was a higher hill to climb, one you didn’t care enough to do anything about.

You started making way to your horse when Arthur stopped you with a hand around your wrist. “Right?” he insisted, voice lower. That same commanding voice he had used on the man who had cornered you by the river.

Surprised that he had grabbed you, you yanked your hand away and pushed passed him without a word. It was an odd thing—you didn’t feel fearful like you would if anyone else had grabbed you. You were angry with him. He knew better.

He let out an annoyed groan and a small word that was likely ‘Jesus’ but let you be. And, getting back to the matter at hand, you headed for your horse. You wanted to go on a hunt. The only real hunting you had done since being on your own was the elk hunt, and even that hadn’t been usual enough to sate your desire. You needed the quiet of the land around you, the animals calling out to each other. Nothing else to think on but prey and your father telling you to focus, to breathe out, to shoot. It was peace unlike anything else—something you desperately needed.

You got the spare rifle you had been loaned off your horse, examining it. It was a basic thing. Perfect, really, for its intended job.

“If you’re planning on shooting me with that, I can promise you, I shoot quicker.”

Peace interrupted once more, you closed your eyes and took a breath before turning to Arthur.

“I’m going hunting. Alone.”

“Like hell you are. Feel like getting yourself eaten in the process?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ve been hunting for most of my life. I know how to protect myself.”

“I don’t doubt that, but like I said, I’m getting you home in one piece. So I’m coming with you wherever you go. You don’t like it, you shouldn’t have asked me along in the first place.”

“I need…” You couldn’t say it. Not to this stranger. Peace. And how to explain that you could only get it in the woods, surrounded by animals and nothing more.

He waited expectantly, his hands on his gun belt. You huffed a breath, needing him to understand but knowing he wouldn’t. He was too stubborn to give it up.

“Fine,” you said. “You can come. But please stay quiet. I need quiet.”

He quirked an eyebrow but said nothing more.

After taking some ammunition from him for your gun, the two of you left the horses and your small camp behind and set off. You went where sound and sight led you, unfamiliar with the terrain but immediately picking up on a few deer trails. The tall animals usually barreled through the woods in the same places, leaving small tunnels through the trees and low-growing bushes. Even though the tunnels were much less obvious than they would be in winter, you followed them.

Much of hunting was thinking like the animal you chose to stalk. Deer were all instinct, all bursts of speed and subtle power at the slightest noise. Rabbits were less thoughtful but faster still. Anything bigger was normally aggressive, and anything else was not much for hunting. It was a game, a need fulfilled and satisfaction saw through. You found yourself floating along with the feel of it, the first time you hadn’t been weighed down since the fall. Then a loud pop of a stick sounded behind you, and you whipped around.

Arthur stared right at you, almost like he was waiting for you to get onto him for it. Not wanting to make more noise than necessary, you only held a finger up to your mouth to quiet him and continued on.

After enough walking that you reached a place your were sure other humans hadn’t touched in years, you stopped. You knelt and examined the ground, listening hard. There was a lot to stillness. Much more than other hunters realized. So you sat, letting the animals reveal themselves rather than chasing them down.

Ten minutes passed without a thing. Then, slowly, came three deer. They likely smelled you or Arthur, their heads occasionally popping up, their tails twitching. But you stayed still, became the woods around you, waiting for their trust.

They were foraging around, likely searching for food they would need before the snow hit. It made them desperate, and desperation gave way to ill caution. More minutes passed, and they forgot to be afraid of that unknown smell. They walked on far enough that moving your gun to your shoulder wouldn’t be noticed by those round brown eyes. You did so slowly and silently, hardly breathing. You aimed for the doe in the middle, the only one with her side turned to you—the easier shot. You waited a few beats, watching, not rushing. You always used to rush, and your father had called you on it every time. It usually resulted in an unclean kill or spooked game. So you waited, making sure all was in order, hearing your father tell you to be patient before you let out your last breath.

The gun fired, startling the deer and the birds and everything alive. When the deer went down, you weren’t torn apart by it this time. You were proud. You had done everything right, just as he had taught you. A hunt years in the making. You had just never known what the cost of it would be—to be so sure despite being so alone.

“You keep shooting like that, and I’ll start to think you’re some sort of sharpshooter.”

The voice startled you. You were so engaged in what you were doing you’d forgotten the man was there. You turned to him, looking at him without really seeing. Wordlessly, you stood and made for the deer.

Sure enough, it had been a rather impressive shot. The deer hadn’t been close by any means, not to mention the trees spanning the distance between you. You’d hit her right in front of her ears, downing her immediately, just as you had the elk. If it had been a buck, you’d have gone for the heart, but this doe had made it easy on you. You knelt beside her and heard footsteps beside you, then the scraping sound of a knife against leather. You looked up to find Arthur holding his knife out to you. Willingly this time. So different from the elk hunt.

“Thank you,” you managed, taking it from him. You meant it in more ways than one. Despite who he was, talkative and humorous, he had let you be more times than you truly deserved in the short span of the time you knew him.

He didn’t respond, so you got to work.

In an hour, the pair of you were back to your horses with enough meat to last you weeks. Probably the whole trip. Arthur had brought a little of the elk along but left most of it for his people, so this would more than cover you in the meantime. Especially with how cold the weather was turning. That was one thing your mother loved about the snow—meat didn’t go bad in such coldness. Or it took a lot longer to. You silently thanked her for that small knowledge as you packed down your horse.

“May be easier to use one horse to pack,” Arthur said. “We can both ride the other.”

“Not enough meat here,” you said simply. Plus, you didn’t want to ache twice as bad when you were suddenly without a saddle.

“Ain’t you knowledgeable,” he quipped. “How’d you learn all this anyway?”

“Learn what?” You finished with the meat and took some to cook.

“Hunting like that. I thought Hosea was good, but I ain’t ever seen anything like that. You track like a bloodhound.”

Your chest welled with pride. “My father taught me.”

“Well he was a good teacher then.”

You ignored the ‘was’ and went on, happy to brag on him. “He grew up in the country, in the Nebraska plains. He always did want to move to the mountains, but he was already a man of the land before he was even a man. That love of it, that reverence, it made him a good hunter.”

“I’m sure,” Arthur said.

With that, your father’s warm memory running through you, you made for the fire to eat a well-deserved meal.

You were halfway through eating when Arthur asked, “Is that how your father made his living then? Hunting?” It was a curious question, one that made you stare at the man because he said it with such caution. Like he knew better than to be asking it. You wondered why but let it slide. Instead of answering, you tugged the ledger out of your inside pocket and handed it to Arthur.

He fumbled it open, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion over the first few pages. They were where your father had learned his letters, likely scribbled nonsense to Arthur. But he kept flipping and eventually must have reached something he recognized, as he began to read.

You took your last bite of food when he asked, voice full of confusion, “Does this say goat?”

You looked over at him where he sat, poring over the ledger like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You felt pride surge through you once more before getting up to make him show you what he was talking about. “Where?”

He pointed to a spot on a page, and you sat at his side and squinted. The word could have been goat. It could have been a lot of things. Your father had also taken on a peculiar shorthand of his own making that only you and your mother could read. Her more so than you.

“Go back a page.”

Arthur did so, and you spied the date across the top line—May of 1888. The memory made the edge of your mouth tug upward.

“Sure does. That’s the year we had goats. The only year we did. Momma hated them. Here, go back.” He flipped to the page he had asked about, and you pointed to the numbers on the edge of the page. “Some figures for what he sold that month. See the goat line?”

“W…B? Am I reading that right?”

You couldn’t keep your smile at bay now. It was a foreign thing, feeling it stretch across your face. Something you didn’t think you had the strength to do anymore. But you did as you said, “Wolf bait.”

“Wolf bait?” Arthur turned to you, voice full of disbelief. His eyes locked onto you so close that you noticed for the first time how colorful they were. Gemstone green and sea blue. That made you come to your senses, your nerves taking hold. You quickly looked away, though your smile at the memory never quite left.

“Yep.”

“You’re kidding me,” he said. “You fed the goats to wolves?”

You thought of the end line for that year written later in the ledger—the most profitable year your father had ever recorded. You smiled again. “Something like that. They may have gotten loose and…”

Arthur let out a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just…of all the ridiculous things to make you finally crack a smile,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t figure for goddamn goats.”

It was a bit silly, but you suddenly couldn’t keep a straight face. You wondered when the last time that had happened was.

“Then what’s this?” he asked. He pointed to something else in the ledger, and you were swept away from any further thought about happiness or the lack of it.

The pair of you sat together and pored over the pages for what felt like an hour. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so riddled with pride over something. It was like showing the very heart of both your parents to Arthur. It was an entire livelihood written down. Your childhood, your adolescence, your adult memories all coming back to you. It was exactly what you needed. The very thing to pull you outside of yourself for a moment, however brief.

It only occurred to you once the camp was packed up, you and Arthur had mounted, and the trip resumed that he had latched onto that ledger on purpose. Not because it was inherently interesting, and not because of any sort of politeness. It was because the ledger had been the first thing to make you speak, truly speak, since you’d met the man. He had picked up on that, on your love of your family before everything had gone so wrong. And he used it to help ease the pain for a little while. You realized then you were wrong about him. He was gruff and overly honest and sometimes flat out mannerless, but he was smarter than you figured for. Or maybe caring was the better word.

While the pair of you made out into another cold day, you were suddenly glad you had picked Arthur to come with you over anyone else. The man who had cared enough to save you. The one who was doing it still.

_________

Chapter six is here.

tag list: @tommys0not0beloved @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030

[addisonstars]

“we belong in sunshine”

written for day 15 of august for @wolfstarmicrofic with the prompt “warm”

648 words!

“Moons, come on!” Sirius shouted, from the depths of the pool they had in their backyard. Remus was quite content to Sirius’s dismay to just sit on their patio and read one of his books.

“Come on! It feels so good in the water today!” Sirius shouts again, really trying to get Remus to come in.

Remus rolls his eyes, but shuts his book and takes off his pants, climbing into the pool with just his boxers. He’s too lazy to go get his swim trunks on.

Sirius smiles when he sees Remus come on in, he loves it when the two of them can swim together. Remus comes over to him and they start to float around in the pool, talking about their days, gossiping and laughing and just enjoying each other’s presence.

I love him. Remus thinks. And Sirius knows that, as evident by the wedding bands and the many tattoos dedicated to Sirius on Remus, and visa/versa. Sirius is just everything that Remus could ever wish for, and he loves him.

After what felt like hours, the sun starts to make its descent. “I should probably get dinner started.” Remus states, starting to get a bit hungry.

“Mmm yeah, that sounds good. What was the plan for tonight?” He says, swirling the water around him with his fingers.

“I think it was lasagna, and I was gonna cook up some garlic bread to go with it.” Remus pauses for a moment then swears. “Merlin, I should have got out sooner,” Remus says as he climbs out, shaking off. “I have to get out everything and cook meat and the noodles and then the whole thing has to cook, and-“

Sirius cuts him off, interjecting. “Hey if we don’t have enough time for that, unless we eat later which is fine by me, then we always have leftovers or takeout. I made that soup the other day yeah?”

Remus thinks for a second and visibly relaxes, the speaks “I’m not going to be upset if we eat later.”

“Me neither, so let’s do that,” Sirius says, smiling.

“‘kay.” Remus says, as Sirius climbs out. And for the second time today, Remus can’t stop staring at his handsome husband.

The way the warm light shines on his skin, the curves of his torso and arse highly attractive to Remus, and the softly fading sun highlighting his tattoos is utterly gorgeous.

His favorite one by far is the Remus John Lupin-Black sitting at the crest of his collarbones, at the center of his chest with the moon phases tattooed right underneath his name. There’s a little heart right above his name too.

And there are so many other ones on Sirius that Remus could stare at for hours, even if it would classify him a creep. But he stares anyways.

“Whatcha looking at Moons.” Sirius interrupts him out of his dream-like state. “Me? It’s ‘cause I’m just sooo pretty look at isn’t it yeah?” with a smirk in his voice.

“You wish,” Remus lies.

Sirius scoffs, slapping Remus’s arse playful for lying.

“Hey! I’m cooking dinner tonight, and I’m not afraid to screw it all up by trying to make enough for just me so you can’t eat dinner. Watch yourself mate.”

Sirius laughs, throwing his hands up and backing away, grabbing his towel too.

“You wouldn’t do that, you love me too much.” He says, drying off his hair and body.

“Yeah, sure, tell yourself that.” Sirius nonchalantly says. Sirius picks up Remus’s left hand, and hold the ring finger by the tip. “So then what’s this for?” He lifts his eyebrows up.

Remus smiles, knowing he can’t get away with anything. Sirius drops Remus’s hand with a smile, but Remus takes it in his own.

“That’s what I thought.” Sirius says, leaning a little closer into his Moony, walking into the house, hand in hand.

wolfstar 😌

-a.s.

[strawberryscorner]

Forgotten Sins Chapter 7

Series Tags: Amnesia, Stockholm Syndrome, Drug Use (Bliss), Religious Cults, Fluff and Angst, Car Accidents, Family Member Death, Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation

Series Masterlist

You raised your hand, ready to knock but put it down again. You were too nervous to eat during lunch, your mind was too busy thinking about this moment. You had to do this.

You raised your hand again and knocked on the door. You didn’t want to confess anything to anyone, you wanted to run away but the door opened before you could move.

“Hi,” you said lamely.

“Hello,” Jacob said. “Did Joseph send you?”

“No, I need to speak to you.” You pushed passed him and into the room.

You heard the door shut behind you, no one else was in the room which was good. Maybe you’d be able to get the words out or think clearly enough to know what the words were.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared,” you said and started pacing. “Of, well, of everything. But mostly, right now, of how well I can shoot. I mean, what if it’s not just that I know how to shoot, what if I have anger issues? What if I’m a murderer and I don’t even know?” 

You paused and looked at him but he didn’t say anything, so you continued pacing. “What happens if I tell John I’m good at shooting and he makes up some sort of reason, like a murderer, and I get marked up with a sin that might be true but could be totally wrong and I have no clue what it means?”

“Then don’t tell him,” Jacob offered.

“Then I’m a liar.”

He chuckled.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, I know.”

He still looked amused as he walked up to you. He made you sit on a chair. No more pacing which had started to feel like the only thing keeping you from drowning in your worries.

“Look, Joseph and John do usually start pushing confessions somewhat early, but you don’t remember any sins to confess. They can’t push it with you, so relax.”

“But what if I am a murderer?”

“What if you’re a hunter? Or just someone who had an odd hobby?”

You forced your head to focus on his suggestions instead of your anxieties. They made sense, not everyone who knows how to shoot takes people’s lives. There could be so many reasons why a gun felt natural in your hands. Just an odd hobby, yeah.

Jacob pulled you out of your thoughts by clearing his throat. “I have to feed the prisoners, you’re helping me.”

He turned for the door. While you were getting tired of these men always telling you what to do, you had to admit, feeding the prisoners sounded better than him handing you over to John or worse, Joseph. You got up and followed him.

The bowls in your hand contained liquid, some soggy vegetables and a few chunks of odd-looking meat. You didn’t dare ask what the meat was. There was hardly any of the soup in the bowl, you weren’t sure if feeding them was actually helping them or if leaving them to starve on nothing was better.

Someone held the door open, and you followed Jacob into the room. You took the cages on the left side of the wall, some of the prisoners took the bowl, greedily swallowing its contents while others stayed, cowering against the wall, staring at you so you gently placed their bowls on the ground for them to take when they were ready. One of the cages was empty, it had belonged to the man from Eli’s group.

“Where is he?” you asked Jacob.

He shrugged. “Not everyone makes it.”

You wished you had felt something, but you didn’t, you just accepted the fact. It wasn't surprising considering the food they were getting and the injuries on their bodies.

You saw someone didn’t get any food, you didn’t have time to ask why that was as three of Jacob’s men gathered around the cell, one of the went in and grabbed the scared prisoner then dragged him outside.

“What do you do to them?”

“We cull the weak.”

“So, if they survive, they join you?”

“Me, one of the others, it depends.”

 Jacob started walking to another area. You didn’t know what else to do so you went after him. Joseph hadn’t told you to do anything today and since this was the furthest spot you could be from the Father so unless Jacob told you to leave, this was where you would stay.

Jacob grabbed a box filled with various sizes of bloody meat and carried it to a car.

“Get in,” he told you as he placed the box in the back.

Jacob got in the driver’s seat beside you as you put on your seatbelt. “Are we feeding someone else?”

“The Judges,” he said, turning on the car and speeding off. “They did well yesterday, so today, they get treats.” He nodded to the meat in the back.

***

The drive was quiet, he hadn’t even put the radio on. Once he stopped the car, he got out to get the box of meat. You opened the door to exit the car, but a dead body was on the ground. Gross. You had to jump out. The grass was wet with what you assumed was blood as it hadn’t rained so you slipped. Jacob grabbed you with one arm and helped you gain your footing.

“Be careful, dead Angels are everywhere now,” he said. “I don’t know why so many of them are here, they usually stay away. Come on.”

You were nervous to be near the Judges again, but you trusted Jacob knew what he was doing when it came to them and hoped he wasn’t leading you to slaughter. There were Angels scattered on the ground as you walked, some with bullet wounds through their heads and others with claw or bite marks. The bodies were fewer as you got closer to the wolves.

The giant white wolves were laying on the ground, a collar with a long metal chain around their throats, keeping them in place. Jacob set the box down and grabbed a few pieces of meat, telling you to do the same. He walked down a line of Judges and tossed meat at them, so you copied him.

Holding the bloody meat was horrible and you were trying to hold your breath as much as possible while digging your fingers into the meat so it wouldn’t slip. As you tossed the food to the wolves, they’d try to catch it in their mouths, some would succeed while others licked at the meat once it landed on the ground.

Part of you thought it was kind of cute, a group of giant wolves laying down and licking or chewing their food but the other part of you, the part that could still smell the meat, hated it.

“No one else needs feeding, right?”

He was about to answer when his radio went off, “Jacob, we need you.” You heard John’s voice yell over gunshots.

“On our way,” Jacob said before looking at you. “Still have your gun?”

You nodded and he ran to the car, you took off after him.

During the drive, you had time to get nervous and think about what was happening. Eden’s Gate only had one enemy, the Resistance. Jacob asked if you had your gun so clearly, you were expected to fight alongside Eden’s Gate. The thought of having to fight Adelaide nearly made you ask Jacob to stop the car, but you forced yourself to stay quiet. You couldn’t, you had said yes to joining Eden’s Gate. This was your choice. No one forced you.

The gunshots were deafening once you got out of the car, there was a yellow plane in the sky firing down on the people of Eden’s Gate as well. John was shooting up at it, cursing a man named Nick Rye. Jacob took one of his bigger guns out of the car and started shooting any members of the Resistance he could see. You saw one running up behind John, who was too distracted Nick, you pulled up your gun and shot them in the leg causing them to scream as they fell to the ground. John spun around and shot them in the head.

“Don’t be afraid to kill them, you know how,” Jacob said.

You knew he was referring to your perfect shot on that photograph but that was a picture, these are real people. People moved, they weren’t still, just waiting for the bullet like the photo was. People who when shot between the eyes like that, would stay down, making you a killer.

“You won’t get a nasty sin carved into you for protecting us or yourself,” he said. “So, aim to kill, and most importantly, don’t die.”

He ran towards his brother to make sure no one would be able to attack him again since John’s focus was back on Nick Rye.

You couldn’t see anyone you recognised around you; Adelaide was nowhere in sight. So, you raised your gun and started firing at men and women who were trying to sneak up on John and Jacob. You aimed for their heads, missing some and shooting their throat or shoulder. You weren’t as bothered by their blood or their screams as you thought, you were mostly bothered you kept missing what you were aiming for. You could do it; you knew you could. Jacob knew you could and right now, he needed you to do it again. Too many Resistance members were shooting at him and his brother for you to keep missing.

You hear cars driving towards you all, it’s more Eden’s Gate members. Nick Rye goes higher in the sky and flies towards the cars, trying to destroy them before they can help you lower the Resistance member’s numbers.

When you’re focused on the plane, a man from the Resistance runs at you with you a knife, John shot him in the head and the man falls dead at your feet.

“Thank you.”

You picked up the knife from the corpse’s hand, just in case, you thought.

It was like the Resistance members would never run out. Any time they died, more seemed to appear and they were doing a good job at making sure more of Eden’s Gate couldn’t come to your aid. The only things you could hear were gunshots and screams, you could feel your heartbeat picking up and your palms sweating around your gun. You weren’t sure what was happening but as tears stung your eyes and you started hyperventilating, you knew it wasn’t good.

You backed away from the man whom you had just shot, tripping over a corpse behind you and landing on the blood-soaked ground. A woman stood over you, but through the tears and the sun glaring behind her, you couldn’t tell who she was, but you knew she was pointing her gun at you. You stared up at her, preparing for the pain of her bullet. A gun went off, and her head flew back, pulling her to the ground. This caused her gun to go off and you screamed as the bullet ripped through you.

“Dawn!” you heard a man call out, but you passed out before he could get to you.

[sleepycupcake-uwu]

Love in the McFreezer

A/N: THIS WAS WRITTEN BY A FRIEND, NOT MY WRITTING.

Summary: Y/n works at McDonalds. Jason was a sweet regular. Mortal!Jason x Reader. Words: 1k+

TW: DO NOT READ if you have Cryophobia/Frigophobia/Claustraphobia

"The regular?" She looks up from the register. Jason swears he would have kicked Percy and Leo in the crotch (their suggestive giggles were staring to piss him off) if they weren't in public. He settles for a smile instead (and a quick glare at his mates).

"Yeah. With an expresso and milkshake please."

"Make it blue too-ph!?" Y/n smiles at Percy. "I see you've brought your friends."

"Uh, yeah. This is Percy, and-"

"I'm Leo- Bad boy. McShizzel Supreme Commander-"

"Right-" Jason drags Leo off to the table, "I'll get the orders!"

She simply chuckles whilst giving him the nod and moving to her next customer.

"Bro," Percy looks at her. "I would say she's kinda cute -not against Annabeth, of course- aaand I can picture little 'Jason-Y/n's' running around." Jason blushed.

Leo had, mean while, started building a sword out of the straws he'd stolen. "I second that."

"Btw, u saw finding nemo? And Aquaman?"

"Bro, that's, like, the 25th time you’ve said that." Leo groaned in exasperation.

"Hey!" Percy protested, "I can't help it they're good-"

"It worse than star wars!"

"Don't you dare say that-"

"Guys-"

"Um, Jason?-" All three of them stop their squabbling and look at y/n's nervous figure.

"Oh, um, hey..?"

"I...We kinda need your help...? None of us are tall enough to reach the top ingredients in the freezer and we really need it right now cause, you know, we got a lot of customers coming in and-"

"Relax Hot stuff," Leo winked at her (whilst kicking Jason's shin). "I'm sure Jason will help you, wouldn't you, Superman?"

This is your chance

"Yeah, totally."

 "Woah."

Y/n grinned. "First time visiting a storage freezer?"

"Yeah." Jason looked around, picking on a cardboard flap that was laying on the floor. He wasn't going to admit that it was her he had been staring at the whole time. Y/n clapped her hands authoritatively.

"Okay, now Mr. Grace, you take four boxes of those frozen meat (Idk how McDonalds works- don't come at me.) and unload them to Faith at the kitchen. Be quick! We got customers!"

"Ay Ay Captain!" Jason saluted and and began working (unaware of Y/n staring at his abs whenever his shirt rode up a little).

"The last one's up there-no, the one on your left-yeah that-Jason look out!"

"What the-?!" The tiny mouse ran about, making him scream, lose his balance and fall on to the cluster of other cardboard boxes,  no doubt damaging them.

The lights flickered, the room seemed to get warmer but was still considerably cold.

"What's going on?" Y/n tried pulling the door, tugging harsher and finally kicking when she realized it was locked.

"I have no idea how all this is happening," she exclaimed.

"Um, I think I smashed your box of...frozen potatoes? I don't really know either..."

"I don't have my phone," y/n admitted. "I left it with Faith- wait, Jason, what is the time?"

"Five to Five, um, but why?"

"That's it! We have inspection at 6. If we can't get out right now, then the inspection team can help us."

 "I'm cold." 10 min have passed, and the voice made him turn next to the huddled figure. He didn't have a sweatshirt or coat to give her.

"I know. Just some more time. I really wish I could help you."

"Then cuddle?" This got both of them surprised, but Y/n recovered faster and coughed.

"I-I'm sorry, I just meant-"

"I mean, we could..." A pause, and Y/n put herself on to him, curling herself into his embrace. Jason noted how her arms where freezing cold, though nervous, he soon melted in her embrace.

"Jason?"

"Hmm?"

"You're shivering."

"I'm fine."

"Has anybody told you that u r a bad liar?"

"Um..."

"That explains it." Silence.

"Y/n?" Jason's voice had a crack in it.

She lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "Yeah?"

You 100% miss the shots you don't take.

"I...I.." Jason faltered.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know that right?"

"No no no I want to." He took a deep breath. "Ijustwantedtotellyouthatilikeyouanditscompletelyokayifyoudontfeel-"

"Jason-"

"-thesamewaybutI-"

"Jason wait-"

"-stillwannaletyouknow-"

"Jason Grace." Jason shut his mouth, effectively having snapped out of his daze. Y/n moved forward, turned around, and sat crisscrossed facing him.

"Come again, slowly please."

"I like you," a pause. "I've had a crush on you ever since...let's just say for quite some time now." He shrugged, not wanting to give away his nervousness, and Y/n's black face didn't really seem to help either. But he continued.

"I understand if u don’t feel the same way, but I just thought I'd let u know bout it and get it off my chest."

Jason stared.

Y/n stared.

Jason stared.

Y/n stared.

And smiled. And squealed.

"Omg you got to be kidding me i cant even-(insert squealing noises)-Yass gurl, who's lucky day is it? MiNe- Oh." A wave of mortification embarrassment was visibly rolling off her. "Um, ha ha, I'd luv to...Sorry, u weren't supposed to c that."

Jason rubbed his neck, feeling the second hand embarrassment before they stared at each other once more, and burst into laughter.

"C-Can I....like, kiss you?" Instead of answering, Jason just nodded affirmative, and they let their lips brush, barely, before Y/n placed her hand behind his head and pulled him into a proper kiss. Jason felt the adrenalin rushing through him, and he could have sworn he'd faint from the sheer disbelief of it actually happening. He'd heard people say of the sparks, but he didn't remember anyone mentioning how safe and protected he felt. He couldn't explain the feeling...it was just...there. And oh how he wanted to do this forever.

A creaking, which soon turned into a banging, parted them from each other and they turned their heads towards the door. Y/n pursed her lips, while Jason bit his, and raised his eyebrows.

"Is this normal?" He asked.

"No," she frowned.

Before either of them could further react, the freezer door burst open, revealing Leo, Percy and Faith, all of them grinning.

"Took you long enough."

"No. You guys took long enough," Y/n had already pushed past Faith and ran off. "I need to pee! Move out of my way Bethany-"

Oh fuck you guys. Thank fucking you.

[dulcewrites]

Mauled Hearts

Aemond has lost an eye, but gained a dragon. He is sure he is slowly losing much of his sanity, but he has gained an equally nutty friend.

I had this small little au idea for what would happen if Myrah came to King’s Landing sooner than she did in Finding Common Cause. It sort of spiraled into me writing this because I’m super curious about that time jump after the driftmark incident. So much happened and it’s a shame we didn’t get it in the show imo. This picks up right after Driftmark. I see Aemond being 11/12 and Myrah is 13

Aemond is late for dinner… again.

Alicent tries not to fixate on the empty seat on the other side of the table. She often had to tell herself nothing was wrong, even when she could feel the eventual doom in the pit of her stomach.

When he didn’t arrive with his sibling, she sent Criston out to find him. She made the rules clear very to all of them. No flying right before or right after dinner. Always, always, tell a guard where you are going to be. She reminds Aemond of this the most. Doing it every morning while she watches the maesters repatch his eye bandages. He grows restless with them by the day. The bandages and the maesters. Opting to redo them as soon as they leave the room.

Alicent just watches. Tongue tingling to say something. Fingers itching as well. She doesn’t know if that is the urge to help her son feel better or the urge to peel her skin from her body. Starting with the fingers till is freyed and left open.

Aemond hates the help he receives. He was always far too precocious for his age. She often thinks he came out of the womb with the world on his shoulders. A difficult birth on her part leading to a haughty attitude passed to him. It’s only compounded since the indecent. He insist on doing things himself as much as possible, despite looking miserable some of the time.

Aegon loudly blows air out of his lips, staring at the meat pies that have yet to be touched. Alicent raises a brow at him, and he raises one back. Defiance and annoyance written on his face.

She can’t help but wonder if that is how she looks everyday. Same melancholy, detached eyes.

It makes her plaster a fake smile on her as the kitchen maids continue to cart out food. The meal was not to start till everyone had arrived; another rule of hers.

The seat next to her is also empty, but she is far more grateful for that. Viserys had locked himself in his room since receiving the raven a week ago.

Rhaenyra and Daemon. Married. Celebrating their newlywed bliss.

He had bitched and moan about it while Alicent tried to hold back a bile helping him change. The nauseous feeling was for serveral different reasons. She always noticed the way Daemon’s eyes trailed people. Daemon Targaryen was a simple man, or at the very least his stunted mind only allowed him to register few emotions on his face. His eyes only computed hatred and toleration; within those two camps came a spectrum of other things under the surface. Anyone less used to watching and observing as Alicent would miss it.

She saw the looks of wanting enacted on Rhaenyra from her uncle.

“I swear it! On the memory of my mother!” Rhaenyra said, and silly Alicent belived it. No wonder everyone lies to her; she makes it so easy for them.

It was only a matter of time before Rhaenyra was another fly in his web. Alicent recognized the lust like she did the hatred.

You don’t hate me because of my father. You hate me because I married your brother. Do you wish you were in my place? Do you wish Rhaenyra was him? Can’t get the acceptance you want from your big brother so you patiently wait for the day that years of gifts and lurking comes to fruition.

Targaryens were terribly funny like that. It would not the most far fetched idea in theory. Daemon viewing Rhaenyra as an extension of Viserys. The way Alicent is always viewed as an extension of her father.

Another no show at dinner. He had the same disgusted response to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s marriage but for different reasons. Otto never hid his distain for Daemon and vice versa. Alicent was envious of them in that regard. Daemon especially. How his emotions were able to ebb and flow freely. No one to tell him he wasn’t valid in them.

She had one moment of anger. A flash of something that burned underneath the surface from the day her mother was buried in the ground, from the moment her stay of King’s Landing became permanent, from the moment she had to lay on her back and have Viserys on top of her. Night after night. Put her body on the line to bear him four children.

She defends herself once, tries to avenge what happened to her son, and she gets whispers of 'mad queen' in court. Somedays, she wants to prove those people right and have their tongues cut out.

But Alicent cannot even pretend to be that cruel. The way others around her cannot pretend to not be that cruel. She immediately apologizes with white hot guilt and shame burning her body while members of her so called family just literally burn everything in their wake. People included.

Lady Rhea dead, Laena dead, then Laenor shortly after. A titled lady and two dragon riders in their own right, all gone. What is to say she and her children will not be next?

"You are not foolish enough to think they have nothing to do with his death, right," her father looked exasperated by her wide eyed look of shock when she learned about Laenor.

Now you see her what she is. What the king's stubbornness has wrought.

She had no comeback when Otto reiterated that same sentiment days ago. No argument for what is the truth. At times, she just wanted to scream at Viserys to wake up. To realize that he is the fucking king; if he does not want his precious daughter in harm's way, he could stop it easily. If he does not want Rhaenyra and Daemon married, he could make it so. If he wanted his daughter to not have bastards or have no one whisper about their parentage, he could have told her to watch herself after the first boy came out just as plain featured as his father. What is stopping Viserys from wielding that power other than his own cowardice? He could have stopped it all the moment before he decided to remarry.

The Mad Queen and the Cowardly King, what a horrid pair they make.

But Alicent has quickly learned that the only time Viserys feels comfortable reminding everyone he is king is often at her expense. And now at the expense of the children he had with her.

On cue, Criston and Aemond stroll into the dining hall.

Aemond cheeks are a bit pink when he finally plops down. Alicent opens her mouth to ask him where the seven hells he’s been, but out of the corner of her eye she sees Criston shake his head slightly. As if to say, we can talk about this later.

They had gotten good at that. Shared looks of communication.

Alicent tries to read between the lines as dinner goes on, but it to no veil as Aemond won’t meet her gaze. Helaena whimsically makes her way through a story about Dreamfyre. By the time dinner is done, Alicent’s interest is far too piqued in what Criston will tell her to even move from her spot.

The kids all give her a kiss goodnight as the evening turns. Before he leans to kiss her on the cheek, Alicent grabs Aemond’s arm softly.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

His face scrunches in a way that Alicent assumes may be painful because of the healing stitches. He looks over at Criston for a moment then back at his mother.

“You look pretty today.”

Alicent almost laughs at the gall of her second boy. Almost.

“Thanks,” she says dryly as he pecks her. The last of the guards take him away to his room.

Alicent by passes the small goblet in front of her, and goes straight for just the wine jug itself. Criston takes a seat at the table, watching as Alicent downs the wine. She knows when she leaves, she will have to go visit Viserys. Make sure is isn’t slumped over his stupid model, like she found him a couple nights ago.

Or gods willing choked on his own vomit.

“So,” Alicent waits for an explanation.

Criston opens his mouth, then closes it. She can tell he is trying to think of the words to say.

“I do not want you to be upset, your grace.”

Alicent rolls her eyes. He’s always brought would the formalities when he had to tell something bad. She wonders what trouble her children have gotten into now.

“Aemond has a friend.”

She blinks surprised. That was not what she was expecting.

“A friend?”

“Hmm,” he chews on lips. “A friend… that is a young lady.”

“What,” she says it far louder than she intended to. Startling even the kitchen help that come to pick up the plates. She lowers her voice once they are alone again. “What?”

“She is innocent and harmless,” Criston warns. “Well, mostly harmless.”

“Mostly,” Alicent voices gets a bit high.

“They read together. One time I caught them collecting butterflies for Helaena which was nice and -“

“Helaena knew too?”

Criston grimaces. It is a look he has been giving her a lot lately. This look of horrible pity but also cautiousness. Like he is expecting another knife related incident to take place at any moment. Had she reach such lows that Criston of all people was worried about another rage filled outburst?

Alicent slumps in her chair. Even while being painfully attentive, she still manages to never get her children. The kids did always have a knack for sneaking around. From the moment they could stand and walk on both legs, they managed to evade her. On one hand, she could chalk it up to childlike curiosity and recklessness. Something was squeezed out of her at a young age. But the other hand, she could not help think it was a omen for her relationship with her kids. No matter how hard she tries, there will always be parts of them out of her reach. Literally and figuratively.

“I also might have heard them chanting things in a language I did not understand. Then damning a girl named Becca.”

Alicent’s face shifts to mortification.

“But she’s a nice girl. A little strange but no one is forcing Aemond to be around her, so he must enjoy her company,” Criston comforts. “I would not let anything happen to him. Not again.”

Alicent swallows thickly. It was a shared guilt that ran through them. She goes over that night daily, sometimes multiple times a day. How she could’ve stopped it from happening the way it did. She knew how much Aemond wanted a dragon. She should’ve been down there with him. It may the Targaryen blood that gives him the ability to fly that behemoth he loves so much, but he is hers. All of them are hers. The fault of that night was lies at the adults’ feet, including Alicent’s

Her, Viserys, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Laenor.

So overcome with humiliation after Viserys called her Aemma, she retreated to her chambers and stayed there with little care for how it may look. That was till she got a frantic knock from Ser Westerling. Before that horrible knock, Criston watched her cry for a moment before leaving her to her own devices. She could tell he wanted to say something in that moment, but did not risk overstepping a boundary.

A boundary that was frankly overstepped the moment she found him in the Godswood with a blade pointed towards his chest. It was overstepped when she overrode her father’s pleas not to, and had Criston sworn to her.

Alicent, an avid reader in her girlhood, read about the bone rattling allegiance knights have to their queens. She often she fears she got the worst of the bunch. Steeped in honor and attentiveness as he is in violence.

To be fair, she is sure she would be prone to burst of vision blurring anger if she had to protect a family like this one.

At least it was something they could understand on a fundamental level - the utter macabre of a lifetime of servitude.

“Who even is this girl?”

Criston’s lips tilt up in a half smile. “Myrah. Myrah Everlane.”

Alicent tries to rack her brain for any memories of meeting people with the last name Everlane. She bustles around so many people daily, it is hard to keep up at times. It sounds vaguely familiar but not a house that she would keep on her radar.

“Well, maybe he can invite her to dinner one night?”

Alicent tries not feel hurt about Aemond not telling her.

“…. Sure you grace…. maybe,” Criston doesn’t look convinced.

How different can this girl be? She’s what? Ten and three at the most.

But then Alicent thinks about herself at that age. Anxious, unsure, and clinging to the only lifeline she had at the time…. A Targaryen of her own. It pains her to think about how her girlhood feels like a distant memory; how court changes young ladies. Suddenly her reservations for Aemond melt away.

Gods help whoever this Myrah is.

———

In a way, Aemond knew it would not work.

Despite all the books he had read about the magic of Old Valyria, and the how Targaryen blood is special, it would be a bust. He could not feel any less god like waking up each morning, and was no skill of ancestors of bloogmages that came before him here to guide.

But it was admittly wildly entertaining watching Myrah take it as seriously as possible. Right down to outfit she decided to wear. Wrapped in deep red, oversized silks she said she took from her mother. Half her of long hair pulled up with various gold hair accessories. Rogue smeared on her lips.

To be honest, she reminded more of the Braavosi and Lysene dancers that would be brought in for special occasions as the castle. More whimsical with girlish frolic than like a powerful maegi ready to do blood sacrifices. Not even the fire in front of them helping her cause.

Though completely in character, Myrah still insisted he be the one to work with the pig’s blood.

“If I get anything on this, my mother will use me as a blood sacrifice. She got this fabric the last time she was in Dorne,” she sniffed, large book in hand. “I still don’t understand why we had to use a pig and not something smaller like the last time.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. “Because I said so.”

“Because I said so,” she mocks under her breath. Sighing, she holds out her hand. Do you have your list?”

Aemond fiddles with his pocket before pulling out writing parchment and handing it to Myrah. Her brows shoot up towards her hairline.

“This is quite the list. You added punishments to the names?”

“Many people deserve to suffer and I want to be thorough,” he shrugs. Myrah nods slowly before reading the list outloud.

“Lucerys Rivers - ,” she stops herself tentively. “There was a rumor I heard that their father was… awfully strong.”

Myrah was a lot of things, Aemond thought. Brash was one of them. But brash in the way he appreciated. Not afraid to say the obvious outloud while keeping what she needed to close to the chest. When he tentively brought up wanting to curse those a little closer to him, Myrah nodded, good natured and understanding. Families are tough, and I’ve never cursed a king. It will prove my power.

“Strong and dead.”

“Lucerys Rivers - nothing but eternal suffering and haunted by the ghost of actual Velaryons till his eventual death... being fed to Vhagar. Jacaerys Rivers - burned alive. Rhaenyra Targaryen -,” she pauses again, holding the paper out. “What is that word.”

Aemond squints, even his own handwriting tricking him. “Umm, sharply.”

“Rhaenyra Targaryen - sharply put to question, eyes plucked out one by one. Viserys Targaryen - guilted, tongue chopped off, then pushed down the stairs.”

The last part made Myrah giggle as she handed the paper back to him.

“Alright, let’s do this,” she flips some pages in the book before straightening her book regally. Letting her large eyed flutter shut she begins speaking in Qohorik. Myrah had picked the Low Valyrian dialect quickly. It makes Aemond wonder how she would fair with High Valyrian. It rolls of her tongue smooth like silk. He had noticed how entrance he was till she opened her eyes expectantly, eyes darting to the blood then to the fire.

“Oh,” he realized it was his turned.

He crumbled his enemies list and threw it into the fire. Followed by blood of the pig. It was an ordeal of itself getting it. Sneaking into the kitchen with one of his Valyrian steel blades. Myrah was of course a terrible lookout. Eyes wandering to the tarts sitting out versus the door. Luckily enough, they were only caught by Criston, who gave them a strange look then a resigned sigh before walking Aemond back to his room then Myrah back to hers.

They sit there in silence watching it all get mangled in the fireplace.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Aemond snorts. “Just like the last time.”

Myrah closes the book. “These things take time.”

“Has Becca from back in the Vale been damned to enternal sadness yet,” he challenges.

“No,” she narrows her eyes. Deep pools of amber darkening. “But I expect for my friends to write me any day now about how miserable she is.”

Aemond shrugs, not convinced as his vision was trained on the fire. He used to think something was wrong with him. Guiltily blaming the Hightower in him. That is must’ve done something to the Targaryen blood. But really, he is just unlucky.

He is not God like his ancestors said Targaryens were. He is terribly mortal. A one-eyed mortal. Fake blood magic or not.

“I need to make sure I’m not late for dinner again,” he says abruptly, suddently feeling that familiar pit of sadness in his gut

Myrah frowns a bit. “What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything was wrong?”

“You have that dopey, awful look on your face.”

Aemond looks over at her with the best glare he can muster. Myrah’s face doesn’t change, a serene calmness marrying her face. He hates how everyone looks at him these days. Sympathy or… disgust. It makes him hate leaving his room. But Myrah just looks through him, as if she never notices the bandages that cover have his face.

“I overheard some people speaking about my eye,” he mutters, embarrassed.

Something flashes behind Myrah’s eyes. “Fuck them. Fuck court and fuck King’s Landing too.”

Aemond is a bit taken a back by her choice of words, but he had heard the sentiment before. The luster of the Red Keep worn off quickly with Myrah. Finding the politicking and fakeness nauseating.

“I was so excited to come here, and now I’d take the Vale with all its sheep and mountains and windchill over this place. There’s no Lady Tyrell asking my parents where they are really from or stuffy old people who have nothing better to do than talk about other’s wealth or lack thereof.” She takes a deep breath after her spiel. “Whether you have one eye, or both. Or you’re missing any other limbs, you’re still Aemond Targaryen. Prince of the realm and rider of the largest dragon in the world. If anyone makes fun of you, that says more about them than it ever will about you.”

She pauses for a moment.

“And when in doubt you can just feed them to Vhagar.”

Well… she’s not wrong about that.

Myrah leaves him with the pep talk, and then a squeeze of the hand. He hopes it wasn’t sweaty when she did. He tries not to meet Criston’s gaze as they walk to dinner.

“Did you have fun?”

All Aemond can do is hum nonchalantly. Not trusting his voice, or the uneven way his heart beats.

[goodlucktai]

Can I please request a prompt 11 for Ace and Luffy?

PROMPTS LIST 11. “It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did.”

(unfortunately sabo commandeered this from me in a big way)

x

Sabo reads a headline that changes the world as he knows it. He sees his brother’s face for the first time in ten years. The memories start to flood back, slowly at first, and then picking up speed, one after another. 

A junkyard that was their playground, a sprawling jungle that was their home. A treehouse they built that overlooked it all. 

Fishing in a river, cooking crocodile meat on skewers over a campfire, self-sufficient long before he should have been, but he had to be grown-up now. He had someone littler than him that needed looking after. 

Two warm bodies pressed up against his, taking shelter from a sudden storm in the hollow of a tree; how warm he felt there, sharing a threadbare blanket. Warmer than he ever felt in his parent’s mansion. 

A promise, the burn of alcohol. It didn’t taste good, but he barely noticed. He’d never been happier.

The fire. 

The letter.

The ship. 

“The world government has made their move,” someone murmurs. “To announce the execution of Fire Fist Ace… Whitebeard won’t take this sitting down.”

No, he won’t, Sabo thinks. 

The newsprint photo is one of his brother—his brother—in chains. The strong lines of Ace’s body are slumped, the whole of him weary and beaten. Something ignites in the chamber of Sabo’s chest like an honest-to-god flame, something that burns. 

The Ace that he remembers was always proud. Defiant. He stood so tall, even when he had to stand alone. Sabo admired him so much for that. 

And now he’s locked up in a place that might as well be hell, and those bastards in the world government think his life is theirs for the taking. They think they have the right to touch him. 

Whitebeard won’t stand for this. And neither will I, Sabo thinks. 

He looks across the room at Dragon. The man is watching him already, measuring him. He must find something in Sabo’s face that he’s looking for, because he tilts his head in the barest of nods. 

It’s the only permission Sabo needs. It’s all he’s willing to wait for. Responsibility and loyalty and longing and love are cresting inside him, burning inside him, like fire. 

Don’t let me lose him, he prays wildly, to anyone who might be listening. He doesn’t believe in that stuff, but he’s reaching for anything now, he’ll do anything. Don’t take him yet. 

x

Ace’s expression cycles through shock and grief and anger so quickly that Sabo almost can’t keep up. It lands somewhere in the middle of all three. He clutches Luffy to his side as though terrified of losing him, the three of them together again for the first time in this brief, stolen moment in the middle of a battlefield. 

"It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did," Ace growls, his voice a wreck from prison and all the screaming he did when Luffy first fell out of thin air into an active warzone. "So there's really only one person you could be. Doesn't explain how you're back from the dead."

“There’s no time,” Sabo chokes out, words almost lost to the sound of cannonfire. “I’m sorry—we have to—”

He glances at Luffy, silently communicating to Ace what their little brother would be entirely outraged to hear either of them say out loud: We have to get him out of here. They can’t get him. 

Even with ten years and a death at sea between them—even though he’s grown, and the angles of his face are no longer familiar, and his left eye is milky white beneath a disfiguring burn scar, and he looks nothing like the little boy Ace once shared sake with—Ace can still read him like a book. 

He nods, jaw tight. His grip on Luffy’s arm would probably hurt by now, if Luffy wasn’t rubber. Luffy is panting, each breath coming in on a wheeze. He’s barely keeping his feet underneath him. 

“Later,” Ace says. 

It’s a threat, but it’s also a promise, and it’s also a wild, far-flung wish.

Let them have later. Let them fight for it. Sabo’s fear and uncertainty burns away, like his heart is made of fire and only love and courage can withstand it. 

He’s going to fight for it. 

[divinerodentiastudios]

Sixth Door to the Left Episode 2: The Mountain Troll's Awakening

If you somehow found this post without having listened, you can do so here or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Hello There! My Name is Pelle Frid, The only person working on Sixth Door to the Left and creator of Divine Rodentia Studios. Before today’s episode, I’ve got a great show to share with you all. From Tlacuache Theatre comes The Devil’s Plaything, a horror comedy about a guy named Greg, who through no fault of his own dies and is given a second chance at life by a demon in exchange for killing people. It is funny, anticapitalist and has demons in it, what’s not to love? I’m dying to hear more, and I think you might as well. You can listen to The Devil's Plaything on all the major Podcast apps, and subscribe to ensure you never miss an episode. We’re gonna play the trailer for it right now. Enjoy!

MUSIC

Gary Carrie: So uh what’s your name my man.

Greg: oh um Greg

Drathralas: You should really consider taking better care of yourself, even my last host was not such a disgusting oaf of flesh.

Greg: What is going on? How did I get from the floor to the toilet?

Drathralas: In exchange for your continued control of this fleshy bag you will bring to me more meat.

Greg: Dead? I I I can’t do that

Drathrals: Surely you must be joking, is that not what humans are known for? I did accounting for the somme, murder is the modus operandi of all humans. You are dead. You have died because of autoerotic asphyxiation. Your next choices are quite simple. 

SINK RUNNING

Greg: Hey do you know what time it is?

Random Dude: Go look at a clock dude. 

BATHROOM MURDER.

Greg: I thought we had a deal Drathralas! 

Dave: You insolent fool I am not Drathralas! 

Samantha: Hello! Welcome to the TV station’s booth. Did you want to volunteer? You get a pin if you sign up.

Tommy: WHat the fuck greg! I’m not interested!

Greg: It's not me! I I I can’t stop it!

Narrator: The Devil’s Plaything is a new horror comedy by Tlacuache Theater Productions. Listen to it wherever you get podcasts. 

Now, without further ado, Episode 2 of the Sixth Door to the Left, The Mountain Troll’s Awakening.

explosion dripping water faint construction

[Troll]: Mmmmmaaughhhh!

(Cave Echo) The Drummer is here, bat squeaks seeking to blast me for my cursed deeds!

No, not the drummer, people-folk in their iron steeds.

Such is their way, taking my mountain away.

Hmmm.

Long is the time I spent in these halls, So very many nightfalls.

My treasure is immense, So much so I must always be on the defense.

Hmmm.

I hear them now, breaking my home, Evermore limiting the space I can roam.

Oh, how I wish to break the carapace, truck backing up

Force them to forever leave this place. I would tear and break asunder,

A proper and terrifying manhunter. But as it stands I cannot do that,

My every move would make me fall flat. For it is of iron these mounts are made,

And should I approach my power will quickly fade. Bind me to the wielder’s will unbreakable,

Render me magically incapable.

Hmmmm.

[In the hall of the mountain king by Edvard Grieg plays softly, growing in intensity over time]

Once, a bride to the mountain I took, Only for a priest to read from the book.

Such terror such pain. I wish not to suffer again.

Were it I only settled elsewhere,

I may have not been so ensnared. Hmmmm.

For the  hated iron is all surrounding, Demanding, perhaps, my announcing.

Hmmmm.

coughs

(Echo Stops) Haaaaa! Teleportation spell, electricity, construction work stops

(Outside) Brids singing[Construction worker]: What?

[Troll, changed his voice]:Take heed, people-folk, and hear what I have to say,

I live in this mountain and wish to stay. Say, then, please tell, how may one

stop this disquietude? The noise, the rumble. The

clamor of a great magnitude. If it’s riches you seek,

I could fill your bags within the week. All I as is that for this churn,

You leave, to never return. Leave this mountain, tear down your fences,

I beg of you, come to your senses. For should you continue destroying my residence,

You will not be pleased when you learn of my vengeance.

Hmmmm. Your power over this world dwindles,

The protection brittles. The book, the detested bells of old,

Helped you grow and expand, like mold. Rewarded your cooperation would be,

And just as terrible my anger, if set free.

[In the hall of the Mountain King crescendos and end] (Birds fade away)

CREDITS

The Mountain Troll’s Awakening was written and sound designed by Pelle Frid

The Troll was played by W. Keith Tims and Brady Flanagan

The Sixth door to the Left Cover was created by Yendysear.

The Divine Rodentia Studios Logo was created by Zacharias Frid,

The music was Music was In the Hall of the Mountain King, by Edvard Grieg,

performed by the Czech National Symphony Orchestra

Sound effects was taken from various sources.

Special thanks to H. M. Radcliff for her invaluable help getting me off

the ground with the sound design, as this was the first piece I made from scratch.

This project is a labor of love and is created on my free time. If you would

consider a one-time donation to my ko-fi that would be greatly appreciated and goes towards

developing the show and future projects. You can do so at ko-fi.com/divinerodentiastudios, all one word.

Links to everyone that’s helped create this project can be found on our Tumblr, link in the show notes.

And, for all things Divine Rodentia  Studios you can find our linktree in the show notes as well

[AUDIO LOGO] This has been a production By Divine Rodentia Studios

[bluandtherestlesshands]

Phoenix Curse

Chapter Three: Tension

No content warnings needed for this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter List

The sun had already set by the time Kenpachi returned. Most of his men were enjoying dinner in the mess hall, though he smelled something else wafting down the hall. They ate good in Squad 11, sure, but this wasn’t one he recognized. And, it was coming from the small kitchen over by the seated officers’ housing… He couldn’t trust that damn woman to not work for one day.

As he approached, he overheard some conversation… Surprisingly happy, he figured she wouldn’t get along with anyone… Guess they can’t argue when she’s bribing them with food.

”How did you learn to cook like this!? Aren’t all those shops full of sweets anyway!?” Ikkaku said through a mouthful of noodles. He slurped loudly. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything this good!”

”I told you Kanny was a good cook! You guys didn’t believe me.” Yachiru pouted at them, Yumichika too busy eating to comment.

”You kept going on about cake! How was I supposed to know she could make meals?”

”I’m not sure what’s more insulting… The fact you think I would offer to cook with no skill, or that you thought I only baked…” Kanna pointed with her chopsticks, laughing softly. “I’ll keep that in mind when I make breakfast…”

”Huh!? Hey hold on, what’s on the menu? You can’t cut me out after giving me a taste!” The bald man complained. With that moment, Kenpachi stepped into the doorway but nobody noticed him yet… Nobody, but Yumichika, who stared wide eyed up at the captain as if he’d been caught.

”Is that really how you ask a woman to cook for you, Ikkaku?” Kenpachi said plainly, his voice made everyone turn. “Tch… Woman, I thought I told you not to work.”

”Ah-! Y-You did, but I enjoy cooking and Yachiru was asking to try some of my ramen…” Kanna said sheepishly, setting her chopsticks down. “I can prepare you a bowl, you just got back-“

”Don’t even think about it.” He scoffed, starting towards the stove. “Did those two idiots talk you into serving them too?”

The redhead was just about to get up when he said that, planting herself back down on the cushion as she watched him nervously. “Oh, no they didn’t… I made extra because I knew you were coming back tonight…” There was a pause before she admitted, “…And I had a feeling they were going to start asking once they smelled it…”

”To be fair, you were talking up your skills before you started cooking… We just so happened to be keeping an eye on you when we realized you were telling the truth…” Yumichika admitted before taking a bite of meat.

”Yeah, you played us with food! How’s that fair?” Ikkaku narrowed his eyes at the woman, who gave him a deadpan expression.

”You got a home cooked meal, and you’re mad I anticipated you wanting to join?” Kanna questioned, then glanced at his bowl.. All he had left was the broth. “And I bet the next words out of your mouth are going to be to ask for seconds…”

He made a face at her, hands on his knees as he scoffed. “Only after the Captain has had his fill…”

”Oh, you wanted more? Well that’s too bad.” Kenpachi said as he turned back to the bickering table, taking a seat for himself. Yachiru sat next to him, and on the other side of her sat Kanna, who went back to her meal quietly. Ikkaku looked defeated, as if he was going to cry into the bowl of broth before he slugged it down.

In her peripheral, she watched carefully while Kenpachi took his first bite. Yachiru was smiling all the while, resting her chin in her hands. “See Kenny? It’s so good!” She grinned.

Another loud slurp, and there was a pause from the captain. Once he swallowed, he turned his head to the redhead. “Kanna. You’re saying you can do this all the time?”

Kanna, having been surprised, put a hand in front of her mouth while finishing her bite. “… Yes, I can. Ramen’s a specialty, but I make just about everything.”

He smirked at this. “Well you got your wish. If you keep making food like this, I don’t think any of us will complain.” Chuckling, he went in for another bite, not caring for her response. She couldn’t help but smile and nod to him, grateful she can pay her debt in some way…

“Captain? If you don’t mind me asking…” Yumichika set down his empty bowl. “What’s the story here? And is there a plan?”

”She worked at the teashop Yachiru keeps squawking about.” The man pointed down at his little princess who was stuffing her face. “There was a fire at her place and she had nowhere to go with a large debt. Shop owner tried to make her pay him back for medication, didn’t forgive it after the fire. So I paid him and told her to come here for a bit.” Kanna stopped eating as he went into detail, shrinking down into her seat. “Don’t have a plan, but her stubborn ass will find a way outta here as soon as possible.”

”You paid a debt for her?” Ikkaku said. “Captain, why!?”

”Cause she needed help and she’s a friend of Yachiru’s.”

”I… Already tried yelling at him for it. It didn’t go well…” Kanna said softly, clearing her throat. ”He paid it before I could tell him no.”

”Cause you would’ve ended up on the streets, did you really want to go through that?” Kenpachi said, looking away from her. “Neither of us would’ve been able to help you then, you know.”

While he continued to eat, the table was now filled with awkward silence. Kanna finished up her bowl, and instinctively began to collect everyone else’s dishes. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to start another argument about it, but still embarrassed and upset about the details he shared. She started to clean up, washing some of the bowls when Yachiru said something that only amplified the tension in the room.

”Maybe when Kanny’s feeling better, she can use her sword!”

A chill ran down the woman’s spine, not turning despite knowing all eyes were on her. Swallowing the lump in her throat while her hands shook.

”You have a sword and didn’t say anything!?” Ikkaku snapped out of frustration. “The hell is your problem!? You know what Squad 11 is, right??”

”Maybe that’s why she didn’t say anything…” Yumichika glanced at his captain. “Though I’m not sure why she left that out to someone taking her in…”

”… You have a sword with you?” Kenpachi said. “Turn around, woman.”

The woman gave a quick nod, slowly spinning on her heel as she took a breath. “… Yes. I do.”

”A frail woman like you, knows how to use a sword…” There was a pause before his stoic expression turned into a large menacing grin. “I think I know how you’re paying back that debt.” The redhead flinched, light green eyes wide. “You’re gonna start training. I wanna see how strong you really are, and what you can do. You’ve kept it a secret for a reason, either you’re weak or you’re a lot stronger than you look. You two-“ He turned back to his subordinates. “Tomorrow, take her to do some training. Figure out what she can do and report back to me.”

”Tomorrow morning-!?”

”Got a problem with tomorrow morning? Or do you want to start in the afternoon?” Kenpachi grinned, chuckling. “Or, are you too strong for them and you wish to face me?”

”NO! N-No, I’m nowhere near your level…” Kanna said, shaking like a leaf.

”Then it’s settled. Tomorrow morning. Go with these two and don’t hold back. Understood?”

”..Y-Yes, I understand…” The woman turned back to the dishes, cleaning them rushedly while fighting off her panic. This is bad, this is so so unbelievably bad! They can’t find out her name, what am I going to do!?

“Kanny’s sword is pretty angry.” Yachiru mentioned, “Maybe training will help it calm down!”

”Hold on, you heard the zanpakuto’s spirit?” Yumichika questioned, confused. “Well?? What is it like??”

”Welllll, I don’t know her name, but she really doesn’t like Kanny. She keeps making fun of her!” Yachiru pouted. “I put her in timeout earlier for being so mean to Kanny.”

”So it’s got a bad attitude, big deal… You didn’t catch its name?” Ikkaku cocked a brow.

”Mh-mh! Kanny wouldn’t tell me.”

And there were all eyes on her again, making Kanna sweat as she dried the bowls to put them away later.

”… I’m not saying it.” She shook her head, still facing away from them. “Absolutely not.”

”Not like we won’t find out tomorrow, so why don’t you save yourself the headache and tell us already?” The bald man stood up. “Or we could try to draw it out in a fight right now…”

”Even if you tried, I wouldn’t do it!” Kanna snapped, turning back to them. There was genuine fear in her eyes. “I don’t give a damn, I’m not releasing that sword!”

”And why not!? What’s so important about this sword that you can’t tell us its name?”

”Yun-Yun, you’d like her sword. It’s pretty.” Yachiru said, oblivious to everything else that was going on, the raises voices between the guests and the Third Seat.

”Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

”Why don’t we see it now?” Kenpachi sighed. “Kanna, either bring it in here or tell us the thing’s name. You gotta do at least one.”

”I… Really don’t think bringing it in here is a good idea…” The woman was sweating, rubbing her arm before sighing. “… Fine. Only because you won’t stop bothering me about it.”

”Finally! So what is it? Or is it just so weak, it’s laughable?” Ikkaku mocked, but his tone changed when he saw how serious her expression was.

”Fenikkusu.” She said, giving a pause, before shaking her head and walking out of the room. “I’m going to bed.”

”That’s it? Some lousy fire bird?” The bald man laughed, “What was so hard about that!?”

”You know, that name sounds familiar… I think I’ve seen it before in some old records…” Yumichika wondered aloud.

”Huh.” Kenpachi chuckled. “At least it suits her. Maybe she won’t have such a hard time.”

[prismatranslates-cue]

Girls meet meat! à la carte Part 2

Previously: Part 1

Maika: What do you mean, a long story? I’m all ears.

Honoka: Okay, so when I left the dorm I had plenty of time to get here, right? So there I was, leisurely strolling along and thinking about how fun this barbecue would be.

Maika: So you really WERE excited for it after all…?

Honoka: Uh, duh! I was imagining how great it was gonna be the whole time I was coming here!

Honoka: So then, I suddenly started getting worried.

Haruna: Worried? What about? 

Honoka: I mean, we’ll be out in nature all day, right? So we’re gonna need bug spray.

Haruna: I did bring some…

Honoka: Okay, but what kind of bug spray is it?

Haruna: Um, just the regular kind I guess…?

Honoka: That’s what I thought. And I realized, what if it doesn’t agree with our skin? So I went and bought one made from herbs and other natural ingredients.

Haruna: I see! That was very thoughtful of you, Honoka-chan.

Honoka: And that’s not all! Summer may be over but the sun can still be pretty strong, so I also bought some sunscreen.

Honoka: What if someone gets too excited and burns herself on the barbecue? Burn ointment! What if someone can’t control herself and eats too much? Stomach medicine!

Honoka: What if someone gets carried away and trips and falls? Bandages and compresses!

Maika: W-whoa, slow down! Do we really need to worry about all that?

Honoka: You know what they say! Better to have and not need than to need and not have!

Maika: So what you’re saying is, you were almost late because you were busy buying all this?

Honoka: There’s still more, too. I hit up a lot of different stores.

Honoka: Like I thought, “maybe we’ll want to run around after eating!” So I went and bought a frisbee.

Honoka: And then, “maybe we could chill some vegetables in the river!” So I went and bought a mesh bag.

Haruna: It’s a very Honoka-chan way of showing her excitement.

Honoka: Yeah! This is how I roll.

Maika: Well, I guess I can’t fault you for that…and you were on time, even if just barely.

Maika: The real problem now is Shiho…

Honoka: She’s not here yet?

Haruna: It’s already past 10 o’clock…

Honoka: And she hasn’t sent a message or anything either. Strange.

Maika: Whatever, let’s just go without her!

Haruna: Hang on, I’ll see if I can get a hold of her.

Haruna steps away.

Honoka: You never know, maybe she got in an accident or something.

Maika: That would be one thing…but if it turns out she just overslept or something, we should give her a punishment!

Honoka: A punishment? Like what? Make her do all the barbecuing for us?

Maika: No way, that’d be a reward if anything. It’s gotta be something unpleasant, like…not being allowed to smile, maybe.

Honoka: Shiho doesn’t really crack a smile that often anyway.

Maika: Oh…good point. Okay, how about not being allowed to talk!

Honoka: I don’t think Shiho would mind an excuse not to talk, either.

Maika: …Argh, this is hard! What could we do that Shiho wouldn’t like?

Honoka: We could maybe make her buy us all a drink or something?

Maika: Nope! That’s too light! Being late to a barbecue is a serious crime, you know.

Maika: I know! For the rest of the day, she has to do whatever we tell her to!

Honoka: Like a servant?

Maika: Yeah! And she has to reply like this: “Your wish is my command, master.”

Shiho: Please, I’m sorry, anything but that.

Haruna: Oh, Shiho-chan! I was just trying to call you.

Shiho: I forgot my phone at home.

Honoka: That explains why you weren’t contacting us.

Maika: Shiho! You’re late! Explain yourself.

Shiho: Do I really have to…?

Maika: Of course you do! Your reason will determine what punishment you get!

Shiho: A most unavoidable wrinkle of fate conspired to entrap me…

Haruna: I knew you had to have a reason. …So, what happened?

Shiho: I overslept.

Maika: How is that unavoidable?!

Maika: How on earth could you sleep in today?! Did you not really want to go barbecuing?

Shiho: If you’re asking whether I wanted to or not, I didn’t not want to.

Shiho: In fact, I was looking forward to it.

Maika: Shouldn’t you have woken up on time, then? If you were looking forward to it so much.

Shiho: The thing is…I couldn’t fall asleep until very late.

Maika: How come you didn’t go to bed early?

Shiho: I did. I went to bed super early, and yet…

Haruna: Oh, I know. It’s like how it’s so much harder to fall asleep the night before a field trip, right?

Shiho: I’m embarrassed to admit it, but…

Honoka: Oh? Were you really that excited for the barbecue?

Shiho: It’s caused a lot of misunderstandings for me, but I’ve always had trouble falling asleep before field trips and such.

Shiho: And so, the next day…I would be late.

Maika: …Why were you so excited?

Shiho: Do I even need to explain? Going on a barbecue with the four of us…of course I’d be excited.

Honoka: I’m a little shocked to hear that from Shiho of all people…

Maika: Well…I guess I can understand that.

Haruna: Isn’t that great, Maika-chan? Everyone was really looking forward to the barbecue you suggested.

Shiho: Maika, everyone, I’m sorry for being late…

Maika: Don’t you worry about it! You must’ve left in such a hurry when you realized, didn’t you? You even forgot your phone.

Maika: Your lateness has been completely pardoned!

Shiho: Very good. I approve.

Honoka: What’s with the sudden change of tone…

Maika: Alrighty! Let’s start heading to the barbecue site!

To be continued...in Part 3