#SORRY GUYS YOU CAN IGNORE THIS I’M SORRY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luckypunklemonade · 1 day ago

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| "I'm Going Nowhere You Won't Find Me."

[Smut MDNI 18+; Established relationship; fem!reader; 3k words] BackwardsCap! Stiles Stilinski didn't mean to worry you. Don't worry, he'll make amends.

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

“You could’ve gotten shot?!”

You slapped the table, standing up as Scott spouts excuses. All “I didn’t even want to go in!” and Stiles counters with “Scott found the key! And he wasn’t gonna shoot me!”

You shake your head, trying not to overreact and deciding between if it’s okay now that they’re here and safe or if you should freak out. “Are you kidding?”

Stiles followed your unsure train of thought, “Look, we talked to him, and we left. He was never really gonna shoot us.”

You brushed him off and uncomfortably kept your eyes out the window into the dark. Imagining a gun pointed at your boyfriend and his best friend was already scary, given how often it could happen. He didn’t seem to understand your anxieties being on the outside. He thought the fact that it was over would calm you down. You did, too.

Your big issue was that he didn’t tell you he was about to enter a dangerous situation. You knew what you signed up for in being his girlfriend, but that was one of your requests. That he at least told you so you weren’t left with nothing. He promised you would never be in the dark if he could help it. It was a mutual agreement that you could help, so he’d trust you, and you’d trust him You weren’t mad, but you couldn’t articulate just how you felt. You figured you’d be able to after a night's rest and then some.

“You guys need to get home. It’s late, and your parents are probably worried and clueless.”

Scott nodded and grabbed his coat, but Stiles stood firm in front of you.

“C’mon, can we talk?”

He stepped up to you, hands sliding around your waist and asking for your attention.

You ignored the ploy, “Did you drive Scott here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get him home. It’s too late to be out in this town. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he noted the frantic tone in your voice, emphasized by how much you knew about the supernatural in this town from him. Stiles grabbed his keys and walked with Scott outside. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you.”

And then he came back. You were lying in bed, taking deep breaths and winding down when he knocked. You shot up, sifting through what you know about the supernatural for something that could mimic his knock. You padded over the cold floor to the door and looked through the window at the top. It was Stiles. Of course, it was Stiles.

You opened the door, and Stiles stepped inside without hesitation. As you were closing and locking the door, he pulled you by the waist into him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Stiles, I’m not mad. I just- I wish I weren’t left so clueless. I hate looking stupid, and then you come to me with something like this. I would feel much better if I had known you were going into that, I could’ve been prepared.”

Stiles smoothed your hair behind your ears, “I know it was stupid, and you should not have to suffer because of it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t go out and do whatever you want like you did before. I won’t ever want to change that. I don’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who mothers you. I’m just– What if you go out there and get shot or hurt or worse, and I’m not there to help? I don’t want to be clueless and helpless when it comes to you. You know I’ll always be here for anything, and I can try to chill out, but-“

“Listen, you don’t need to do anything. I didn’t text you. That’s my fault. I agreed to let you know if I had planned anything stupid and failed. I wish you wouldn’t have to worry, but I’d do the same thing if it were reversed. I’m glad I have you on my side, okay? I’ll do better, I’m sorry.”

You huffed, not satisfied with him taking the full weight of shame that comes with an apology. “I just care about you. And Scott. I guess.”

He smiled and kissed your cheek, “Thank you.”

Another kiss, followed by several more peppered around your face, punctuated with, “Thank you, thank you, thank you-“

You cracked a smile and limply attempted to push him away. He shook his head, languidly walking you back from the front door into the kitchen. His lips followed in pace, listlessly pressed against your temple.

“I should’a known better. Should’a known you wouldn’t be satisfied with that.” He mumbled as he guided your hips to the counter. “Not my girl.”

“Well, it’s your girl’s bedtime.”

Stiles kissed behind your ear, just where he could reach, while he spoke in your ear. His voice was the same tone he used when he spoke up an innocent excuse, just a few octaves lower and so, so close. “Is it?”

“Yes, and you know how I get without sleep.”

You could practically hear him bare his teeth in a grin, his fingers tracing just beneath the hemline of your shirt, “How do you get?”

You laughed and pulled his hands away from your stomach, holding them in yours. He looked down at you, barely hiding how his eyes flicked to your lips every few seconds before ducking his head down into your neck. He subconsciously leaned into you, pressing your lower back into the counter. You felt him inhale deeply, his lips pressed into a spot just under where you applied your perfume. He went after the scent, however faded it was, and you felt him push his face deeper. His nose, his broad smile, his eyelashes all against your neck. He licked that spot on your throat before kissing it gratefully. His head dipped with each movement of his jaw, sucking at the point where he could feel your pulse on his lips. His fingers aimlessly tangled with yours on the counter behind you.

You had to give it to him. He could be reckless. Sometimes, it was hard to be his girlfriend, but he always made it up to you. He’d realized how little he’d been getting a hold of you and spend the next few days and nights with you, making sure you could see how much he loved you. He was erratic, but he wasn’t inconsistent with that part. He wasn’t on and off checking texts or stopping by; he was always committed to that, and it never stopped, but there were exceptions. Of course, you knew what you signed up for. He was worth it, you trusted him, and he was really good at making it up to you.

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, knocking his baseball cap sideways on his head. “M’sorry.”

Stiles bent slightly, hooking his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting you up to sit on the counter. His smile hooked at the side, making every look of insane emotion sort of playful. He reached up, taking the hat off when you stopped him, “Keep it on.”

“Yeah?” His smirk grew more confident, a look you didn’t often see on the genuine side.

“Mhm. It’s hot.”

Stiles’s smile broke into a grin, although he was sort of distracted by the hickeys he’d left on your neck. Repeating what you say as fact, he let his eyes wander, “It’s hot.”

Your laugh pulled him back in, along with you grabbing a fistful of his flannel, “Very hot, sweetheart. Can you please fuck me now?”

It took him a second to think of a response, of course, after every thought he had was replaced with your words. “I can definitely do that.”

You helped him take his shirt off, repositioning the hat backward on his head after his shirt hit the floor. He smiled as you kissed his cheek and hooked your thumbs under his jeans, Mumbling against your lips as they traveled across his face and down to his neck, touching down every so often. Mumbling about how he’d wear whatever you told him if you liked it. Stopping you from doing any heavy lifting, he gently withdrew your hands from his waistband and led you to crawl into your bed. Instructing you to just sit there and look pretty, he slowly stepped out of his jeans and kneeled on the bed to help you with your shirt. At the pace he had going, by the time he had his eyes glued to your chest, you were already pushing your shorts down. When he saw your impatience, he chuckled and watched you struggle to maneuver them off underneath him. You huffed and gave up, moving your arms out of the way.

“Atta girl.”

Your interest in his new look made him cocky. The attitude that came with it was no doubt attractive. You found yourself searching for more openings for him to use his confidence and for you to encourage it. You started by humming at the praise, watching him drop your shorts off the side of the bed. At the same time Stiles leaned down to kiss you, your hands flattened against his lower stomach, against his happy trail. You both let out respective sounds of need, and Stiles’s hips lowered between your legs. With the feeling of his dick through the thin material of his boxers came your hips bucking softly. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes slowly, huffing out what was going to be a grunt. “Shit, honey. You make it so easy, don’t you?”

You hummed in response, letting him press himself into you and tell you fondly exactly what a guy like him should do to keep a girl like you happy. “I didn’t just know what I should just do with you, y’know. I thought about it a lot.” Stiles’s mouth turned up when he saw you weren’t really focused on his words. He leaned in, “Like a lot.”

“Mhm, just—“

“Alright, I know. You like it when I talk to you, though, right?”

“Yeah, honey. I like it.” You smiled up at him, the gears turning in his head. Stiles slowly dipped his head to your chest, sucking another mark into where the skin got plush. His eyes tracked yours, doing as much as he could while keeping your eyes on him. You’d been so frustrated lately, not just with Stiles. School issues, problems at work. The stress was irritating, but you couldn’t imagine what Stiles was going through. That understanding was a bare minimum in your mind, but for Stiles, you were the most considerate person in the world. He didn’t want to make you feel like he was just using you because you were available. So, he made sure to check every box he could for you.

“Fuckin’ love you.” He bit the breath coming out into his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered. He was doing everything to keep his eyes open and watch you. You mumbled it back, eyes squeezed shut as he thrust steadily, but he leaned his way into kissing your temple. “What was that? I’m sorry, honey, I can’t hear you.”

You cracked a smile; that’s all he wanted, but you ventured to use your hand buried in his hair to push his head back down so that his ear was by your lips. You held down a moan, replacing it with, “I love you, too.”

It came out with the same needy tone, though, and he found your mouth to kiss his smile onto yours. While he took a second to hold himself up and take a deep breath, your cheek rested against his wrist. When he felt you gently take his wrist between your teeth jokingly, he looked down and chuckled. “I deserve that. I’ll be a better boyfriend, promise.”

“Honey—“ You began, not wanting him to wallow in self-created guilt.

“I know, but still. Just let me…” Stiles’s smile opened as he moved his hips forward, hand molded around your thigh. He pushed himself deeper into you, eyes erratically trying to find something to focus on. Your face, your chest, your hands, down to where you took his dick so well, his eyes got overwhelmed. But he wasn’t going to close them. He’s not an idiot. He couldn’t figure out which would make him cum first. Closing his eyes and imagining you doing the thousand other things you had talked about, or keeping them open and watching you try to smile up at him through the haze, also struggling to keep your eyes up. It didn’t help that you tend to whine for him, showcasing how blank your mind really was. His thumb was less circling your clit than just trying to savor how messy he’d gotten you. He fed into his curiosity, which he would’ve done regardless of how good it made you feel, but especially because you arched your back off of the bed and pushed your hips up, meeting his thrusts, letting him bury himself deeper.

He encouraged you, feeling the need start to deepen, pushing him harder. He was driven, you’d told him, thank god he didn’t gamble. Anything verbal was hopeless. He just mumbled emphatically at each movement. He opened his mouth, a clue he was almost there. He just needed a little more. Just having him like that made you clench yourself around him, moaning when he almost lost his hold of himself above you.

“You gotta…” He almost ’woofed’ out his breath. “Fuck, honey, y’take it so good.”

His voice cracked on ‘honey,’ and you could see it sort of shook his confidence. He’d never really said anything like that with you. He was the first in the relationship to be vocal about most things. He said he loved you first, despite all the inner turmoil, even if it was sort of an accident. It was your encouragement that made him say it, your reaction to his confident demeanor. You saw an opening to make him feel good about himself; you took it. His eyes closed, gears turning and undoubtedly overthinking what he just said, but you said his name, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

With a sort of assured grin, you nodded at him, “Keep going. Wanna hear how well I take it.”

He mirrored your smile, getting shy about it, but his next thrust had him to the hilt and holding it there. You yelped a little at the feeling of him holding you, of him driven into you and bracing you while you squirmed. You moaned, and he twitched, hearing it sound like he’d knocked the wind from you. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re doing so good. Just like that for me.”

Mewling his name, extremities limp, you let him see exactly how much you liked seeing him try new things. He liked the way you tightened around his dick when he pushed himself inside little by little until you started to reach for his arm, and he’d stop there. You strained a little, taking deep breaths, the muscles in your stomach contracting and squeezing your cunt around him. You came around him, cursing and fawning. Stiles let out a groan that turned into useless and incomprehensible praise. His hips slowly retracted, slowly met yours again, speeding up until he found the release he was chasing. He struggled to keep the pace, though. He’d revert back to his other method, get restless, and try to keep up with his needs.

When Stiles came, his chest was pressed down against yours. All he had to do was turn his head, and he was kissing your neck again, breathing harshly. He built up the strength to roll over beside you and rest his head on your shoulder. He looked up at you with a little exhaustion when you sat up and brushed your fingers through his hair, the baseball cap forgotten for the time being. His fatigue was clear in his voice when he spoke, and he let his head roll off of your shoulder. “I’ll be better.”

You tilted your head, about to comment how what he just did was pretty damn good, but more than grateful he could recognize how stressed his being in danger made you. You leaned down to kiss his nose, laughing when he tried to croon his neck so that you met his lips. You reached over the side of the bed, your fingers finding the soft material of Stiles’s shirt and pulling it over your head. You managed to find his boxers as well, frowning when a hand took them from you. Stiles put them back on, still lying down and tired. You moved to sit on your heels next to him on the bed, your hand softly tracing shapes into his chest. Stiles tried really hard to keep his eyes open, but you ran your hand over his torso and up through his hair in a way you knew would put him out. He tried to keep talking, but every “mhmph” felt like a monumental effort from his entire body. He ended up letting you trace the veins on his arm while he listened to you, being soothed to silence and held just over the edge of sleep by your voice and your hands. When you finally lay down next to him, Stiles had fallen asleep. He liked waking up to find you had slid yourself into his arms after making him so pliable. Of course, you got a notification and had to check it before you went to sleep for the night, and, of course, it was Scott. He was asking why Stiles hadn’t been responding to his calls or texts and that he had a few ideas they could look over with Derek. You messaged him back that he’d been busy. That you both had been busy with heavy implications in the message. You sent a picture of Stiles fast asleep to help explain how you had put him to bed. Scott’s plain reply of “oh” was enough closure for you to put the phone down for the night.

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #fem reader #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #backwards hat stiles #smut #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #✰lucky writes

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velvetvexations · 2 days ago

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Hey, sorry if this is weird, you can ignore it if you want.

Just wanted to say that I’ve stumbled upon your blog completely randomly, and it’s truly been a healing balm regarding the state of trans discourse online.

I’m transmasc, and I guess bc of some of my following I’ve ended up in the orbit of these “trf” circles, so some of their posts would appear on my dash on occasion, and it’s truly been like suffering a slow carbon monoxide poisoning. The slow drip-feed of ideas like the incommunicability of our (but esp transfems) experiences to each other, the seemingly zero grace given to transmascs (I remember vividly a screen of a couple dating app messages where a transmasc was saying to a trans woman that he “loves tall women”, and then apologizing, and the reblogs were just. baselessly assuming active malice from the guy and all transmascs as a demographic), the dismissal of our struggles, and even minor stuff like calling us “transandrobros” and refusing us the possibility of giving a name to our own struggles, it’s been making me feel worse and worse.

I have transfems in my real life that I care about and cherish deeply, that make my life brighter in these trying times, and all these posts have slowly made me paranoid that I was hurting them (consciously and subconsciously), that I could never meaningfully support them, and that they’d never be happy around me and be better off ditching me, and like. it hurts.

(The argument can be made, and wouldn’t be incorrect, that whatever hurt I’m facing is insignificant compared to the threats the average transfem faces, I know, but still, exactly because of this I want to be a positive influence in their life, I wanna know how to be good to transfems, and all these posts are just telling me that I can never not be just someone that only adds to their struggles)

For the longest time I was actively subjecting myself to these posts because I desperately want to be good to the transfems in my life, I wanted to uncover my own biases and overcome them, and you can imagine how this form of doomscrolling has just hurt me and made me resent my own identity. At some point I stumbled on an old post recapping baeddel ideology and realized that’s what I was falling into, and started distancing myself, but it still felt like that was the more prominent stance and so it still felt somewhat isolating. And now I found you.

Idk, all this is to say: thank you for the grace you give transmascs, thank you for reminding me that I’m not evil for existing, for showing me and reminding me that solidarity between transmascs and transfems is not only possible but already real, and for showing me a brighter present.

Wish you all the best

I'm happy to do what I can, anon. <3 It's so important that we support each other.

#transandrophobia #discourse

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sturniololuvz · 14 hours ago

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Can you do a really angsty sister fic but with a cute ending but it’s very angsty

yesss! here ya go!

“Unnoticed”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : none rlly.

Y/N had always been the odd one out.

She knew her brothers loved her—of course, they did. But love and attention weren’t the same things, and lately, it felt like she had been completely erased from their world.

Chris, Matt, and Nick had each other. They always had. Three inseparable pieces of the same puzzle. And Y/N? She was just the extra. The fourth wheel in a group that never needed one.

At first, she tried to brush it off. They were busy, that was all. Filming, traveling, editing, working on their brand. She told herself it wasn’t personal.

But then the missed dinners started.

Then the unanswered texts.

Then the times she walked into a room only for them to leave moments later, too wrapped up in their own lives to notice her standing there, screaming on the inside.

She stopped trying.

If she didn’t reach out, would they?

If she didn’t show up, would they even notice?

Days turned into weeks, and it became painfully clear that the answer was no.

The final straw came on a night that should have been normal. She had been in her room for hours, curled up in bed, feeling the weight of her own insignificance pressing down on her chest. She wasn’t crying—she was past that.

Then she heard them downstairs, laughing. Loud, carefree, completely oblivious.

She checked her phone. Not a single message from any of them.

They were all together.

And she wasn’t even a thought in their heads.

Something inside her snapped.

She grabbed her jacket and slipped out the front door without bothering to text them. It wasn’t like they’d care.

It was cold. The wind stung her skin, but she barely felt it. Her legs carried her forward, away from the house, away from the suffocating loneliness that had settled in her bones.

She ended up at an empty park, sitting on the swings, her hands gripping the rusted chains as she stared blankly ahead.

She wanted to disappear.

Not in a dramatic way—she didn’t want to die or anything. She just wanted to stop existing in this way. Half-there. Half-seen. Half-loved.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Probably just some random notification.

But then it buzzed again. And again.

Frowning, she pulled it out.

Chris: Where are you?

Matt: Y/N, answer the phone.

Nick: Are you okay? Where’d you go?

A bitter laugh bubbled up in her throat. Now they noticed? Now they cared?

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket, ignoring the way her hands trembled.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

Then—footsteps. Rushed, frantic. And suddenly, all three of them were there, panting, their faces pale with worry.

Chris was the first to speak. “What the hell, Y/N?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes were soft. Scared. “You just left without saying anything!”

Y/N stared at them, expression blank. “You would’ve noticed eventually.”

Matt flinched. “Of course we would have—”

“Would you?” she interrupted, her voice cracking. “Because I don’t think you would’ve. I don’t think you would’ve even realized if I stayed in my room for days, or if I stopped coming home at all.”

Silence.

Nick took a shaky breath. “Y/N… that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” she whispered, feeling the lump in her throat grow. “I’m invisible to you guys. I’m just there—some extra piece that doesn’t fit. And you don’t even see me.”

Chris stepped forward, guilt written all over his face. “Y/N, we—”

She shook her head. “I used to be your sister. Now I’m just a background character in your lives.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she hated herself for it.

Matt looked like he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. Because she was right.

And they all knew it.

Nick ran a hand over his face, looking like he was about to cry. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “We never meant to make you feel like this. We just—” He exhaled shakily. “We fucked up.”

Chris swallowed hard, his hands balling into fists. “You’re not invisible to us, Y/N.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You’re our sister. Our baby sister. And we love you more than anything. We just… we got so caught up in everything else that we didn’t realize we were pushing you away.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t need some guilt-driven apology.”

Matt stepped closer, his voice gentle. “We’re not just apologizing. We’re fixing this. Because you’re right—we haven’t been there for you. And that’s not okay.”

Nick nodded. “We miss you, Y/N. And we’re not letting this happen again.”

Chris hesitated for only a second before pulling her into a crushing hug, burying his face in her hair.

And for the first time in forever, she felt seen.

Matt and Nick wrapped their arms around them too, holding her tightly, as if afraid she’d slip away if they let go.

She sniffled. “You guys are so annoying.”

Chris chuckled, his voice muffled. “Yeah, but we’re your annoying brothers.”

A small, watery smile tugged at her lips. Maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so invisible after all.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sister sturniolo #sturniolo series

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lmvari · 4 hours ago

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Petty Compensation

prompt. you accidentally take the wrong drink order, and the actual owner demands a sip as compensation

characters. scaramouche / wanderer x gn!reader

tags. modern au, attempt at humor

warnings. none

You don’t notice your mistake at first.

The cafe is busy, and you're distracted. Probably by the group of students arguing over a project in the corner or the fact that you only got four hours of sleep last night. Either way, you hear your name being called, or at least, you think it was yours.

Without giving it much thought, you grab the cup from the counter, take a sip, and wince at the unexpected bitterness. Still, you don’t question it and head back to your seat like nothing’s wrong. The cafe is packed and the staff seem overwhelmed that the barista doesn’t even notice who took the drink.

It’s not until someone clears their throat in front of you that you realize something might be off.

“That’s mine.”

You glance up, only to be met with sharp indigo eyes staring you down. The guy in front of you has striking deep blue hair, sharp jawline, and an expression that somehow manages to be both bored and vaguely irritated at the same time. He gestures toward the cup in your hand. “You took my drink.”

You blink at him, then at the cup. Then at him again.

Oh.

In your defense, it looks like your order. You squint at the scribbled name on the side, and sure enough, it’s not yours.

Kunikusushi, it says.

Either his parents had a grudge against him, or the barista completely butchered the spelling.

Still, regardless of how his name is written on the cup, one thing is clear. You already drank from it, which means—

“Oops?” you offer sheepishly.

His brow twitches. “Oops?”

“order for [name]!” the barista calls out.

You glance toward the counter, where another identical cup sits unattended. Your actual order.

You stand up to take it from the counter and offer it to the stranger. His intense stare burns into you the entire time. Shifting under the weight of it, you clear your throat. “Um, sorry. You can take mine instead?”

He looks unimpressed, eyeing the cup with clear disapproval. “My drink is made exactly how I like it. And you’ve contaminated it. I’d take it back but what if you have some kind of disease?”

“I don’t,” you deadpan.

He shrugs. “Can’t be sure.”

“Are you serious?”

He exhales through his nose, gaze flicking to the cup in your hands. “Fine,” he says, holding out a hand. “Give it here.”

You blink. “Wait, what—”

“If I can’t have mine untouched, I want compensation,” he says. “You took a sip of my drink. I’m taking one of yours.”

You gape at him. “That’s literally the same thing you were just complaining about.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s my choice.” He scoffs. “Give it.”

You hesitate but ultimately sigh, handing the cup over. He takes it, and without breaking eye contact, he lifts it to his lips and takes a slow sip.

Your brain short-circuits for a second.

As he swallows, immediately, his nose scrunches in utter disgust. “Ugh. How do you drink this?” He sets the cup on your free hand and glares at it like it personally offended him. “It’s sickeningly sweet.”

You raise a brow. “No one forced you to drink it, asshole.”

“Tch.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still grimacing. “Consider yourself lucky. I’m feeling merciful today.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Merciful?”

“You should be grateful I didn’t make you buy me a new one.” He smirks, sharp and infuriating.

You roll your eyes, but before you can throw a retort, he steps back, grabbing his actual drink from your hand.

“I’m taking this back. Try not to steal from me next time, thief.”

You sputter out incoherent words in disbelief. He could’ve just taken it from the start. “Petty!” You say back but he ignores you.

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you flustered, annoyed, and (frustratingly) just a little bit intrigued.

Wait. Next time?

You glance down at your drink and feel a small scrap of paper, torn from what looks like a receipt, clinging to the cup’s condensation. Scribbled across it in messy handwriting and bleeding ink is a string of numbers. His number.

Your cheeks flush and your mouth gapes.

Instinctively, your gaze flicks to the exit, searching for him. He’s already by the door, his own drink in hand, but just before stepping out, he glances over his shoulder.

The moment your eyes meet, he smirks. He knows you’ve found it. Then, without a word, he turns and disappears into the crowd outside.

You stare after him. Your heart knocking once against your ribs, skipping a beat.

Did he plan that from the start?

note. just a little something haha you can tell kuni is my favorite character to write. thank you for reading ^^ feel free to send asks! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #wanderer x reader #wanderer #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche oneshots #genshin wanderer #genshin impact #kunikuzushi #lmvari writes

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yourabsolutemother · 20 hours ago

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At sundown Chapter 3

!!MDNI!!

Previous Chapter Here

Poly!141 x reader (omegaverse)

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A/N: I know this took so long guys, I'm sorry lol. I busted out the rest of chapter two in one night, it was kinda crazy. It was also way longer than I had originally planned, but who's complaining? Let me know if Johnny’s accent is too hard to read, sometimes this translator does some crazy things. This one’s kinda all over the place but it’s kinda for a reason. Last thing! Let me know if you like the beginning of this, I kinda really hate it but I didn’t know what else to do

CW: Military inaccuracy, accent inaccuracy, possible lore inaccuracy, kitchen working inaccuracy, typical a/b/o sexism and classism, cursing, slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as they/them but is afab, but reader is referred to as a woman sometimes (I try my best to make it gender neutral but I’m not the brightest), everyone is kinda being unfaithful, cursing, Simon is mean ya know, slight stalking, a man being a creep, yelling/arguing, reader kinda has a panic attack, yelling

Chapter overview: Soap does some questionable things at the grocery store. Ghost and Price are grumpy

WC: 11.3k

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Another new day in this hellhole you call a job. They have you running around like you’re the only one who knows what's going on. Sometimes you feel like you are the only one who knows what they’re doing, only to have some random person that’s never bothered to introduce themselves to you mansplain how to use a garbage can. Your boss even went as far as to make you drive an hour out of town to buy bulk ingredients, stating they needed too many things to be open. Of course you were the one they sent, instead of the person who’s literal job description is just that. And of course when you got back, it was your fault that the restaurant didn’t have enough servers. ‘Shouldn’t have taken so long’ was their excuse when you pointed out it was in fact their fault, not yours. You can wrap your brain around how people can be so ignorant and selfish. It feels like there are way more bad people in the world than there are good. It makes you wonder how much more the world could take.

By the end of the day, you’ve been cursed out by three tables, crayons thrown into your lower cut shirt by gross 11 year old boys whose moms have never taught them anything valuable a day in their life, belittled and more. You have serviced enough tables to make at least $300, but you’ve only made $150. Nobody is on your side today, the universe isn’t on your side today. But when is it ever? You’ve disappeared into the freezer to cry your eyes out too many times today to count. You know your manager will go through the cameras at the end of the day, which he does just to point things out about you, and you are going to get a call when you get home. Which you have told them repeatedly not to do, you don’t want to be bothered by work when you aren’t even there. Of course, they ignore this and constantly call and text you. One time, they threatened to fire you if you didn’t answer their calls, after one night when they couldn't find something and they deemed you the only person who knew where it was. You didn’t even know where it was.

Right now, you are putting the ticket in for your last table when a new coworker of yours comes over and leans against the beam that is near the computer. “Saw you running around like crazy today.” Is all that he says, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scan your body up and down, finally landing on your face. His eyes had lingered at your tits for a bit longer than you’d like and you remind yourself to never wear a shirt like this to work again. His British voice echos in your head like it is empty, your brain trying to find the right words to say. What would agitate him the least. He is met with your downturned eyes as you turn your head towards him. The scent of an alpha hits you immediately and you’re left frozen for a moment. You can’t just ignore an alpha.

Your hands start to shake as you pull the customer receipt out of the printer, grabbing a checkbook from the box right next to you. You let out an awkward laugh as you nod your head, sliding the receipt into the pocket on the inside. “Yeah, Jared needed some things done ASAP and I was the only one available.” You explain, looking at the small passage between this random coworker and where you need to go. “My name is Tyler by the woy.” He says, his tone sounding rather thirsty. You aren’t stupid, you know what he wants from you and you want nothing to do with it. Especially from an alpha.

You stiffly nod and start to move towards the small gap next to him, watching as he unfolds his arms. Your heart clenches in your chest as he reaches for you and firmly grips your shoulders, it's obvious he didn’t mean to grab you so hard from the way he loosens his grip and kinda pats where he grabbed. “You can’t just walk away without telling me your name.” He points out, trying to hide his aggression under a facade of a ‘nice guy’. You can see through his fake smile, through the facade he puts on. You know his ploy all too well and you aren’t about to fall for it. Be nice to the girl, make her fall for them, then reveal what a heart crushing, soul changing piece of shit they are. Not on your watch, at least as much as you could help it.

Despite how confident you are in your own head, on the outside you look like a mess. You are hunched over with your checkbook in hand, trying hard not to look at the alpha who is way too close for comfort. “Come on, Hun. Such a pretty little omega like ye must have a beautiful name.” He presses further, ignoring the quiet whimper that manages to escape your mouth. He can feel the fear radiating off of you and it intrigues him, his pupils dilate with interest.

“Omega!” Jared shouts from his office at the very back of the kitchen, right next to the back door. He loves to slip in and out of the building without telling anybody what's going on. It doesn’t matter too much when he’s coming in without notice, all we can do is accept the rest of the shift is going to be shit and get on with our lives. But when he leaves without telling anyone that he’s leaving, it can majorly fuck the place up and it has multiple times in the past. On one occasion, he knew someone from corporate was coming in to pose as a customer, but assumed at six o’clock that he ‘wasn't going to show up’. He left and the guy he was supposed to be waiting on showed up in the last hour our dinner courses were served in. We went to go find him only to find out that he wasn’t even there anymore. Corporate was pissed and took points off of whatever tracking list they have for their franchisee owners. It doesn’t stop him from continuing to do it.

You have never felt more relieved to hear Jared’s voice in your life. Your head perks up, looking over the shoulder of your new coworker in the direction of Jared's office. You nervously glance between there and the alpha that is looking at you expectantly while stammering. “I gotta go.” Quickly squeezing between him and the wall to get to Jared, checkbooks still in hand. You can feel the kitchen workers and Tyler's eyes on you as you scurry hurriedly to the back of the restaurant. “Yes, sir! I’m coming.” You can feel the anger coming from behind you, coming from the alpha that you’ve caught the attention of unknowingly.

Jared’s office is tiny, not meant for someone to be in there for very long enough. It looks like a big closet with a desk to the right of the door, three filing cabinets completely lining the back wall. Outside of the office, if you’re standing facing the office, the door to the back of the restaurant is to the left. Jared is a very large, very intimidating alpha. He is the only one that you ever really talk to, since you have to. You kinda just switch off your brain when you are talking to him, retreating into your mind to a time when you were forced to be around them for hours on end.

“Now tell me why in the hell you are spending all this time in the kitchen fucking checking out tickets, lollygagging around while these people are waiting!?” Jared’s loud and booming voice invades your ears and makes you wince, your head immediately lowering in a sign of submission. The feeling of relief you felt only moments ago from being pulled away from Tyler was quickly sucked from your body. “What- no of course not, sir.” You stammer out. It’s like a flip gets switched when you’re in arguments, you can’t seem to formulate the correct words to help your case. It is very rare that you are able to get them to start to believe you, but you also fold when they start to interrogate you. It just makes you so nervous that you can’t think straight and your brain gets all scrambled.

“Then why have you been back here for three minutes doing one thing!? Huh!?” He screams at you as you start to take sharp intakes of air. You are trying not to burst out into tears as he stands up and steps towards the edge of his desk. You are used to crying in front of him, embarrassingly so. Everyone here tends to make jokes about it ‘behind your back’ while literally right behind your back. “It’s a privilege for you to work here.” He reminds you, stalking toward you. Your brain goes empty and all you can think about is keeping yourself safe from the angry looking alpha that is coming right towards you. “Look around!” He barks, speaking rhetorically. “There isn' a single omega tha' works for me, you are the only one. You are so easily replaceable I won' even thinky twice abou' i'.” He growls as he towers over your shaking form.

You are holding the checkbook close to your chest, the checkbook you have yet to bring to the customer, looking up at as tears start to roll down your cheeks You are terrified that he is going to lunge at you and hurt you, but you know that you’re hopefully somewhat safe since there is a camera pointing right at the doorway you’re standing in. All you can do is nod, your wide eyes staring up at Jared as he continues to belittle you. Talking about how quickly he could fire you and all the things you have already done that he almost fired you for. He doesn’t hold back on his insults either, he cuts deep and on purpose too. He never once acknowledges the fact that you did things that aren’t on your job description for free today and on most days, but you aren’t about to bring that up to an alpha that is screaming in your face.

“now qui' your fuckin’ crying and ge' back ou' there!” He shouts, pointing over your shoulder towards the dining room. “And if i ge' a single complain' tha' you are crying, you’re fired!” He shouts again as you turn and scurry away from his office. You struggle to keep your emotions in check as you wipe your face of tears and prepare yourself for the trip to your table. You speed walk to the doors of the kitchen, with your head low so the kitchen staff can’t see the tears that they know are running down your cheeks. You take a deep breath once you are there and push through the door, your face immediately brightening up.

You spend the next three hours doing the most random tasks that you could ever think of, at Jared’s request of course. He didn’t stop the hosts from sitting people in your section while you are doing these things, in fact it feels like he told them to give you more. When you look around you can see that there are empty tables in other sections for way longer than they should be open. While in your section, a table would leave and it was like the busboy was waiting for them to leave, then a host would fill the table not even a minute later. You are in a constant battle between greeting customers and giving their checks, making your brain scramble from the switching. On top of that you have the weird ass requests that Jared is assigning you one after another.

Instead of hanging out in the kitchen like you normally would have when you have some downtime, you go to your jacket and get the emergency stash of cigarettes that you save specially for days like this one. Where you can’t see an end to your suffering. You grab your lighter as well and make your way to the back door, hoping Jared isn’t in his office so that he wouldn’t see you. It’s not like he is going to stop you from going on a smoke break. You hope. Thankfully you are able to get past the office and out the backdoor without any commotion from Jared, the cold air biting at your cheeks. It is cold outside, but you don't want to bother putting on a jacket when you are only going to be out here for a few moments. Hopefully the cold air will refresh your brain and the rest of your shift won't be as miserable. Unlikely. You put the cigarette in your mouth and hold the lighter up to the stick, watching and inhaling as the paper starts to burn. You’re able to put the lighter back in your pocket and take a drag before you hear the door open and a voice speak to you.

“Pretty omega like you shouldn’t be smoking, gonna ruin your pretty body.” The creep Tyler speaks out, his breath fogging in the air. You stop yourself from scoffing and just shrug, not even bothering to look at him. Your brain is far too overworked to even pretend to like someone right now. Shock fills your body when you feel Tylers fingers grasp the cigarette and take it from between your lips. You slowly turn your head to look at him, your hand still up like you are holding the cigarette and your eyes filled with a fiery anger. Tyler doesn’t seem to notice the anger, or maybe doesn’t care, he just smirks at you. Your eyes follow the cigarette as he drops it to the ground and snuffs it with his foot. “Just lookin’ out for you, hun. I’m sure you understand, it's my place as an alpha. Just like it's your place as an omega to obey and do as you're told.” He mansplains away while you play with the lighter in your pocket, wishing you could do something to him. He continues to talk to you, but you aren’t listening. You’re looking at his face, almost through your eyelashes, with the most uninterested look on your face.

“Look, babe.” The nickname slipped off his lips like nails on a chalkboard, making you want to immediately want to sock him in the face. “I know that you are mad at me for putting out your cig, but you gotta understand-” You cut him off with a hand to the face as he tries to reach for a piece of your hair. “I completely understand, there is no reason to speak to me like I am a child. Thank you very much.” You tell him, walking in front of him to go back inside when he grabs your wrist. “I don’t think that’s any way that you should be talking to an alpha, Hun.” He says through clenched teeth, trying to keep a charming smile on his face so that you don’t see him for who he actually is. “I mean, some of these alphas will seriously reprimand you for something like tha’.” He tells you as his grip slightly loosens up when he realizes how aggressive the grab may have seemed. He has to make sure he holds up this fake personality so he can lure you in, he doesn’t know you know. You can tell that when he says ‘some alphas’ he really means himself.

You don’t know what comes through you, the way that he has treated you, the first time ever meeting this man, and he has the audacity to act this way. It has you seeing red. You rip your arm out of his grip and walk away back inside. You’d rather not have a smoke break then be around this douche. “I have a pack.” You lie over your shoulder, glaring at him as the door opens and you step inside. The anger is deep in your chest, threatening to bubble out like it is a volcano waiting to erupt. You have to take deep breaths so that you don’t flip out.

As soon as the door closes behind you, the confidence stays outside apparently, because you can feel your chest tightening. You cover your mouth with a shaky hand and hold the spot he grabbed with your other. It was the first time in a long time that an alpha put their hands on you. You felt the aggression in his grab and then the way that his fingers loosened once he realized he was going to give himself away. Your moment is cut short by a noise coming from Jared’s office and not wanting anymore trouble with any alpha’s today, you are quick to scurry to the handwashing sinks. You wash your hands and make your way to your purse so you can spray yourself with perfume. You don’t want to go back to the dining room smelling like smoke. Luckily the spot they make you put your stuff is far enough away from the kitchen that you don’t have to worry about contamination. They probably planned it that way.

You take a moment to breathe before you are forced back into the muskiness of the restaurant. Even when alpha’s wore scent blockers, there was still this mucky scent. You find it repulsive and have to hold back your gags sometimes with how bad it is. You force a fake smile on your face and exit the kitchen, walking around your large section to see if anyone needs anything, to catch up on the lost time during your smoke break.

While you’re at one of the tables, a pack omega looks at your arm and nudges her beta, whispering something into their ear while motioning to your arm. You don’t notice the way the beta’s eyes become worried upon seeing the light redness that is forming on your arm from where Tyler grabbed you. “Hey, darling.” The beta greets you, cutting you off from a conversation with their alpha. Your eyes go to the beta’s, filling with dread as someone cuts off an alpha. “You’re not being..hurt at home, right?” They ask, their fingers brushing over the newly formed patch on your arm that is obviously someone else's doing. You are a little confused why they are so concerned over such a small injury, if you can even call it that, but grateful they were looking out for people. Your eyes go back to the alpha and he’s looking at you like he is waiting for an answer as well, not even bringing up the fact that his beta just interrupted us. It only serves to confuse you more.

The alpha raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘spit it out’, but for once from an alpha, it doesn’t feel mean. The worried look he tries to bury in his eyes is obvious to you, you aren’t used to it from people like him. You stutter for a moment before you take a deep breath and sigh, trying to collect your thoughts. “I ran into one of the shelves in the kitchen and I bruise easily, is all..” You tell them nervously, not liking the feeling of all three of their eyes on you. It feels like they can see right through your lie. Your eyes cast down, but you can tell they are scanning your face to try and find any reason to not believe you. They stare at you for what felt like two minutes, it is closer to 10 seconds in reality, before the beta sucks on their teeth. “I believe them.” They tell their alpha, sitting back in their seat and taking a sip of their to-go cup you just gave them.

You feel like your face is lighter, like 10,000 pounds had been lifted from your chest as the alpha nods in agreement with his beta. “Okay, we believe you..” He says skeptically, his eyes squinting at you to try and get you to break. But you stay strong and smile warily at him, feeling uncomfortable under an alphas gaze. Your eyes widen when the alpha grunts and rubs his shin, his gaze shooting towards his omega across from him. “'eave her alone , you're scarin' the poor thin’.” Her Geordie accent slipping off her tongue like butter. You can hardly understand her, but her pack seems to have no trouble. The alpha almost pouts and huffs at her. “Just making sure they’re alright.” He grumbles, you can tell he kicks her under the table but much softer.

The beta rolls their eyes at their pack's antics and pulls their card out of their wallet, handing it to you in between two fingers. “Don’t be scared of Jessy.” The beta tells you kindly, their smile radiating as you take their card. “He’s a big teddy bear.” They continue, their eyes going to their alpha who is still ‘arguing’ with the pack omega in a hushed tone. You take that as your cue to leave and weave your way back through the crowd to the kitchen. You pray that Tyler isn’t in there, waiting for you like a creep

Once back in the kitchen, you are lucky to see that Tyler isn’t currently in there. You glance around a few times, as if trying to scope him out like he is hiding somewhere. You aren’t going to take any chances with a guy like him, he gives you the weirdest vibes on top of just being a garbage person. You don’t waste anymore time and check the table out, you feel like you’re moving faster than you ever have before when checking out a table. The idea that Tyler can come in here at any moment and try something with you again, and no one would care or stop him, is plaguing your mind. You can’t stop thinking about all the different ways that things can go wrong with a guy like him. He can end up doing horrible things to you and there is nothing you can do to stop him.

You scramble out of the kitchen as soon as you are done, booking it to the table, whose card and check you have. You have to angle your body to the side to fit through a few gaps between people, holding the checkbook close to your chest so no one can try to take it from you. Which has happened in the past, their whole meal came out of your paycheck along with the fee for having to get a new card. But luckily you get to their table without any problems. Setting the book down on the table you smile, a little warrily, at the alpha at the table. “I hope that you and the rest of your pack have a good day.” You say softly, hoping the others don’t take it as you trying to flirt with their alpha. That is the last thing you want from them.

The alpha looks at the check and then back at you with a confused look on his face, making your chest tighten for the hundredth time today. “Who gave you their card?” He asks, his face dropping into a more serious look, his voice dropping as well. You freeze, your mouth opening and closing almost like a fish as you try to fight through the fear that came along with seeing the sudden change in his demeanor. “Um, your beta did, sir..” You reply, your voice meek. You’re scared that the alpha is going to lash out in front of you, start yelling at his beta for paying for the meal without his knowledge. Jessy’s eyes shift to his beta, his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He just stares at him like that for a few seconds, glaring into his soul before his face lifts a little. “How many times have I told you, Malakia. I pay for everything and you guys just sit back and be pretty.” He complains, reaching over and flicking his beta on the arm. “How do you even have money in your card?” He asks, his eyes squinting in suspicion.

You take a sharp breath in and force a smile on your face as you try and calm your nerves. “Well, I hope you three have a great rest of your day.” You say, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you bid them farewell with a small nod of your head. You turn and walk briskly through the crowd, not wanting to intrude in their conversation about their finances. It was always the worst when couples or packs would talk about personal things in front of you. It happens why more than you were comfortable with. People even go as far as to talk about their sex life in front of you. Sometimes it feels like they're doing it just to make you uncomfortable.

You push through the swinging doors of the kitchen and are met by Tyler grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, darlin’” He greets you, stepping out of your way only to redirect his path to follow you. Your head lowers a little bit and you side eye him a bit, trying to put off the most uninterested vibe you can muster. You are wearing scent blockers so he can’t smell the souring of your scent, but you can feel it. Your chest always feels tighter and it feels like you are breathing smoke, thick air that makes your throat burn somehow. “It’s the end of my shift and I don’t have any more tables, I can’t stay to help you with anything if that's what you’re wondering.” You dismiss him entirely, your eyes watching in front of you now as you make your way to the lockers. “Actually, Jared wanted me to let you know that you need to stay for a double.” He says, his tone sounding overly remorseful, like he is actually mocking you. You can’t see his face, but you know that he has a dumb smirk on his face, watching as the horror dawns on your face.

Your head snaps towards him and you make eye contact before you have to look away, you ignore how you caught a glimpse of his smirk falling when you looked at him. “I already worked my double this week.” You explain to Tyler, your voice sounding a little frustrated. “I’m already working overtime, I don’t want any more hours.” You sigh out, your shoulders slouching in defeat. “Well, someone had to go home because they had a headache. We need someone to cover their spot.” He tells you, not budging on the subject. You don’t understand how someone who was so new already had so much more power and authority over you. “Who left?” You ask quickly, already knowing Jared screwed you over on purpose. You are his least paid employee, he loves sending people home and making you stay later so he doesn’t have to pay as much. “Ace.” He tells you. “It had to have been going on for an hour, he had to go home.”

You have to hold back a laugh of disbelief, nodding your head. Ace is a beta, of course he is allowed to go home like that. They would have killed you if it had been you that asked to go home because of a headache. “Whatever.” You mumble out as you turn on your heel and head to the host station to figure out what section is yours now. Tyler is left smirking at your displeasure, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. It is like it is burning holes in your skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're practically in tears by the time that you get to your car, your shoulders are raised and your head is lowered so you can warm your cheeks with your jacket and scarf. You are quick to unlock your car because you had rushed out of the building to avoid Tyler being able to follow you. He unfortunately was also working a double tonight so I couldn’t get away from him, he was basically your shadow the whole night, following you around like a lost puppy at any chance he had. Expect it wasn’t cute and he was being so passively rude the entire time. You wanted to strangle him by the end of the shift, but that would get you fired and also arrested, so you resisted. As you’re getting in your car, you hear his grating voice from across the parking lot. He is just coming out of the building and he was quick to find you. “Hey! I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye! You ran off before I could say anything!” He is shouting from across the parking lot.

You’re glad that you had hair over your ears so later you can blame you ignoring him on the fact that you had earbuds in and couldn’t hear him. You quickly get in your car and sling your bag into the passenger seat of your car before you back out of the parking spot. He’s only halfway to your car before you start driving towards the exit, you’re glad because you wouldn’t put it past him to jump in front of your car to stop you from leaving. Luckily he doesn't have the space and just stands there staring at your car as you drive away, an almost shocked look on his face. You laugh at him and turn onto the road, driving towards home.

You’re almost relaxed as you’re driving home, as relaxed as an unmated omega could be in a world where they can hardly survive. But the feeling quickly leaves when your eyes spot the sign for the grocery store that you pass everyday. You groan out and hit your back on the seat a couple times before you change lanes to get into the turning lane for the grocery store. You totally forgot that you need to buy some things and you can’t put them off any longer, so you reluctantly find a parking spot and park your car.

You’re parked next to a car that has someone in it still, so you keep your eyes down as you get out of your car and walk in front of it since it's been backed into the parking spot. You can tell that the person inside the car looks up at you and watches you pass in front of their car, but you don’t think much of it. You would have done the same thing if someone had walked in front of your car. You don’t look up from the ground until you are inside of the store, in the cart lobby. It’s still cold in here despite the hot air that you can feel blowing from the vents. You always wondered how the workers that got them from the parking lot got them into the building. With how long they make the cart trains, it seems impossible.

You don’t realize that the person in the car you just passed was actually your neighbor, and he was now following you. Soap’s eyes are on you as he gets out of his car, walking a little far behind you so that you don’t think that someones following you. He’s not following you, he’s just… making sure you’re safe, making sure that you’re taken care of. He doesn’t want anything to happen to an unattended omega, he’d do it for anyone. He wouldn’t and he knows that, but he doesn’t want to feel like a freak as he watches you set your bag in the small cart you grab and make your way inside. Soap enters the lobby not too long after you did, you’re now inside of the store, and he completely ignores the cart that he needs to grab. He’s supposed to be getting groceries for the pack for the week and he’s not doing a very good job so far at doing that.

He follows you into the produce section, which is where you enter the grocery store. He watches you as you go over to the fruit section and start looking at the veggies on the shelves. You have to stand on your toes to look at the top shelves on the produce section, as it is just out of your eye sight. He pretends to look at the lettuce on the opposite side of the small section of the produce, angling his body so that he can easily see you without looking like he is actually looking at you. He wishes that he can go up to you, take your cart and do all the shopping for you. So that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you are so obviously tired.

Soap’s eyes soften as he watches you bow your head and quiver as a yawn rips through you, forcing its way out of your body. He usually thinks that people are unattractive when they yawn, but you look so cute when you do it. The way that you face scrunches up and the way that you can’t stop your body from shaking because of your yawn. He has to force himself to look away before someone, or you, catches him staring so intensely. He shakes his head and walks around to the middle isles, of course picking the one that is closest to where you are standing.

Soap can’t help but feel guilty as he goes through the store, following you from a distance so that you don’t get suspicious that he is following you. He watches as your hair slides down your shoulder, your arm reaching up to grab a bell pepper on the shelves. The way that your hand wrapped around the pepper. Because you are an omega, you are smaller than him and it shocks him to see the difference. He zones out while daydreaming about laying in bed, holding you close while he compares hand sizes with you.

He quickly snaps out of it and shakes his head, a cringe creeping onto his face. He can’t remember the last time he thought about something so sappy before. He looks back at where you just were, only to be met with some random man in your place. He freaks out for a moment before he gets a grip on reality. You probably just moved onto another section while he was distracted. After a quick glance around the store that he can see, he sees you at the bakery looking at some of the breads that they had left. This grocery store isn’t the best about freshness, they are too focused on having cheap prices to worry about the freshness of their produce and baked goods. That being known, the store is never really short on bakery items because getting the processed kind is cheaper and it lasts way longer. It just makes you feel special and you get the ‘fancy’ kind sometimes.

Soap walks over to the bakery and looks at the cheese that is on a display across from where you are standing. He stands on the other side so that he can look over the top of the display to look at you, and he can pretend he is looking at the cheese pretty easily. He holds a random piece of cheese in hand so that he isn’t caught following you around the store with nothing in his hands. He doesn’t know what kind of cheese he is holding, like it matters. All that matters to him at this moment is making sure that no alpha would put their filthy hands on what he has subconsciously decided he is going to protect. He can’t help it, your scent has helped him through nights when he is being stubborn and not sleeping with the pack over something silly that is bothering him. You may not know it, but he owes you.

You pick up a loaf of bread, looking at it for a moment before grabbing a bigger loaf. His gaze hardens at the thought of you having a pack. Having someone that won’t be able to protect you as well as can. All Soap can think about is how much better he can take care of you. To him, it seems like the people who he assumes are your packmates don’t take care of you. Anytime that he sees your roommate or Jasmine, he can’t help but scowl. He despises them for what he believes they have done to you. You deserve to be treated like you’re the last omega in the world, like the ground that you walk on is sacred. He’d make you feel like you are everything. Because you are.

He follows you around to the back of the store where the seafood is, and down one of the aisles that's across from the seafood counter. There are long freezers in the middle of the main aisle at the back of the store, Soap stands at the end cap of the one across from the aisle you are on. You’re looking at the chips, looking over the brands on tortilla chips. One hand is twirling a piece of your hair between a few of your fingers, your wrist twisting as you exchange the hair between your fingers. Your lips are formed into a pout as you try to figure out which brand is the best for you to buy.

Soap is ripped from his thoughts by his phone ringing in his pocket, which he ignores. He doesn’t want to look away from you, it is like he is in a trance. You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and slightly bend over to grab a bag of chips, putting it in the cart before moving down the aisle. You walk slowly down, your eyes scanning the shelves for anything that might catch your eye. You tend to forget things if you don’t write them down, but you can never really remember all that you need in order to write it down. Most of the time, you just end up walking through the store and hoping you get everything that you need. It almost always ends with not having half the things you went for, and having tons of things that you’ll use or eat. It is why Jasmine always does the shopping. That and she has more money than you do.

You hear a groan coming from the other end of the aisle, you turn your head and see a familiar face. Your neighbor. But this time, you don’t feel as panicked as before when you’ve noticed him from your driveway. Being this close to him, you can tell that he’s a beta, not an alpha like you had expected. It surprises you, since he is so tall and had the muscles that he did. Most beta’s are like a mid size, not as small as omegas but not as big as alphas. Your neighbor broke this standard way further than you have seen anyone do before. He is a sight to see. You can help but feel an appreciation for betas his size, you hoped he’d make a wonderful beta to a woman alpha. You always love to see it, two people who are not the norm find normalcy in each other's weirdness. That is love to you, it's what it is all about.

On the other end of the aisle, Soap pulls out his ringing phone and looks at the caller I.D. seeing the words ‘captain’ on his screen. He swipes his thumb over the green answer button, bringing the phone up to his ear. “I'm shopping, John. What's botherin ye?” He grumbles into the phone, looking at the chips in front of him before turning his attention back on you. He is annoyed that John is interrupting him when he is so engrossed in watching you. He just needs to make sure that your shopping trip isn’t ruined by anyone, he wants you to have a nice peaceful time. He wants to be there for you, because he cares. “Did you hear me, Johnny?” A gruff voice echoes from the other side of the phone, breaking him away from you once more.

All John gets back from Soap is a distracted sounding “Aye.” followed by the sound of shuffling and a muffled “Excuse me.” of Soap squeezing by an older lady on a motorized shopping cart that almost blocked his path to follow you. Luckily he quickly turned his body and made it through. He keeps his eyes on you, drilling into the back of your head as you make a right turn to go up the next aisle. “Johnny!” John barks from the other side of the phone, annoyance evident in his voice. “Wha' the hell are you doing? Are you even listening to me?” He asks, his tone accusatory towards Soap.

Soap huffs and backs off of you for a moment, remembering quickly that his mate is more important than the omega next door at this moment. He can make sure you’re safe once he is done talking to his alpha. Who is not only the reason he has a job, but is the reason he keeps it. John has single handedly saved Soaps careers more times than he can count at this point. It is honestly laughable. “I’m sorry, i'm here. Whit were ye saying?” He asks, taking a moment to look at the kitchen tools that are at the end of this aisle. He knows Gaz would appreciate new cookware, he always does “Ghos' needs you to come home soon, he doesn' seem very happy with you. Something abou' no' keeping your promises.” John explains to Soap sounding a bit frustrated with him, rightfully so. Soap lets out a long sigh and nods his head, which John obviously isn’t even able to see. “Bastard niver forgets anythin’.” He grumbles under his breath, which John heard and responded to with a low warning growl.

The last few days, John and Ghost have been way stricter than they had ever been. Soap and Gaz are hardly allowed to touch each other without their approval. It bothers the two betas because they know that it isn’t normal behavior for their alphas, but they don’t know what to do to help. They’ve tried everything they can think of at this point, they are out of ideas. Soap tried acting more submissive, but they got upset that he wasn’t acting like himself. Ghost complained that if he wanted someone submissive, he would’ve chosen someone smaller. He feels like submission did Soap's physique wrong, didn’t show off his body the way that Ghost liked, the way that Ghost knows Soap deserves to be seen. Gaz had tried sparring with them, that ended with his face smushed against the floor for an hour while the alphas had their way with him, consensually of course. They didn’t feel any better after any of these attempts, it usually only fueled them to make them more agitated than before. It makes the betas feel as though they aren’t good enough at their roles, that they aren’t worthy mates and aren’t worthy of their title of beta.

“I'm sorry, cap. I'll be home soon. The store is crowdit today.” Soap fixes his tone quickly, making a mental note that he’ll deal with those consequences when they arrive in front of him. “That’s better. Be safe.” John dismisses him, not even waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. Soap is left standing in the kitchenware and baking aisle, looking at stuff that he doesn’t even know what half is. He clears his throat to keep his emotions in check, swallowing a few times to control his tears. He doesn’t feel like he should be so emotional over something like this, he knows they’ll be okay, they always are. But they all know the risks of having a pack with more than one alpha that also doesn’t have an omega. They know that their relationship is fragile and that they have to be careful, they have been careful. Soap just needs things to be better again.

He sighs and makes his way to the opposite side of the aisle, at the back of the store. He grabs a bag of gummy bears off the shelf while he makes his way to find you. While he’s walking, he can’t help but realize how weird he is acting. He kept looking down the aisles like he is looking for someone he knows, someone who actually knows he exists. He remembers the times that you have scurried away from him, looking all scared and panicky. But his heart really clenches when he thinks about his pack. His pack is struggling and here he is getting so distracted by some random omega that he can’t even shop for his family. He groans and shoves the bag of gummy bears on the shelf before booking it out of the store. His pack needs him right now, more than you need his protection. You've done it countless times before, you can do it again.

He serves through the crowd, shoulder checking a few people on the way to the entrance of the store. He can hear the people scoffing and confronting him about running into them. He doesn’t give them the time of day as he books it through the door and towards his car. He practically tore his car out of that parking lot, he wouldn't be surprised if there are black tire marks on the asphalt where he had driven. The whole ride home, he can’t stop wondering if he is a bad mate, oogling over someone that isn’t in his pack and lying about it straight to his mates faces. Someone who he hasn’t even had a conversation with yet. He had spent well over half an hour stalking you through a grocery store under the guise that he was protecting you. While his actions were commendable, they aren’t when you don’t even know the person, especially when that person has run to hide from Soap in the past. He wasn’t painting a pretty picture for himself, but he can’t seem to bring himself to let go of you. The thought alone of leaving you to your own devices and not knowing if you are safe and cared for sent a shiver of unease down his spine, making him cringe and grumble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands are numb by the time that you pull into your driveway, having to go to the grocery store by yourself and then having to drive home took a toll on you. You had almost cried on your way home but had to stop yourself so that you could actually see the road. Jasmine wasn’t able to go grocery shopping for the two of you because she was busy, and your roommate buys his own food. You usually go with Jasmine and have her to lean on, but she couldn’t so you were forced to go by yourself this time. But after a few deep breaths, you are able to calm yourself enough to get out of the car, making sure to pop the trunk before you close the door.

When you’re rounding the corner to the back of your car, you make eye contact with the man from the store, your neighbor. Since you were able to catch his scent in the store, you knew that he isn’t an alpha. And while this does lower your anxiety around him, he is still a stranger. His eyes look a little tired, glistening around the edges as his eyes scan your face. You can tell that something is bothering him, but it’s not your place and again, he's a stranger. But his tired face turns excited at the sight of your eyes meeting his, starting to make his way over to you. He walks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just been sulking before he saw you.

You return his smile with a cautious wave, holding onto your bag that is slung over your shoulder. “Hi, neighbor!” He greets you cheerfully, stepping a bit into your personal space while he juts his hand out for a handshake. You start to smell freshly cut grass and are confused, no one had cut their grass today, it had been too cold in the past few weeks to even consider it. You’re confused for a moment before you realize that it’s your neighbor. You are closer than you had been in the store and now you are able to get a good read on what he truly smells like. His scent is so comforting due to him being a beta, that your hands start to gain feeling again. You look at his hand and then back at him, like you don’t know what to do, but quickly take his hand for a handshake. “Hello.” Your voice is soft and meek, like you are too afraid to speak too loudly at him.

Soap can’t stop beaming, his smile is bright and goofy. He’s just so excited to be able to formally meet you after spending so much time daydreaming about what you’re like. And after he stalked you through the store. He wasn’t expecting you to be so shy once he’d put himself out there for you, but he finds it adorable. He finds everything about you adorable. From the way you slightly rock on your heels, to the way that your eyes shine in the sunlight when you look at him. He can’t stop staring at your face and memorizing every detail.

He gets snapped out of his thoughts by you clearing your voice, your eyes shifting to the ground as he reels back into reality. “Neit help wi thae bags?” He asks, already reaching out to grab a bag from your open trunk. You try to protest, but he’s already taking bags into his hands. “You really don’t have to do that.” You tell him, your voice coming out a little rushed as you watch the beta get all of the groceries out of your car. “Really, I can do it.” You rush out as you try and slide your smaller fingers under his fingers to grab the bags from him. He only shushes you and steps back to walk away. You quickly close your trunk and follow him with quick footsteps so you can keep up.

When your fingers touch his, he swears he feels his pupils widen. Your skin is so soft and warm against his calloused skin; your touch is so light despite the fact that you are trying to snatch your grocery bags out of his hand. He tries to compose himself as he brushes past you and towards your front door, he can feel the heat in his body threatening to raise to his skin to make him blush. You’re trailing behind him, a worried look on your face as you try and convince him that you don’t need his help. He doesn’t listen though, he ignores you as he stops in front of your door, waiting for you to open it.

You look worried as you shakily get your house keys out, sliding the key into the slot. Through your worried thoughts on how you are going to get him to not come into your home, he spoke up. “I’m no comin i, stop worryin. A can smell it on ye.” And you can feel your body relax as you open up the door. You’re usually not so quick to trust, but there is something about this beta that is different. He just feels so welcoming and warm, you can’t help but want to get to know him more. But you know that he comes from a unique pack, and you know that his alphas would not be happy if he comes home smelling like the omega next door.

Soap sets the bags just inside the door and watches as you step inside as well. He can tell that your movements are very calculated around him, like you are making room for him instead of making room for the both of you. He can tell that you are fragile, he doesn’t blame you. He can only imagine how hard it must be to live in a world that is rooted against you. You are considered the lowest of the low in society, but not in his eyes. In his eyes, you are perfect. He can tell that you aren’t comfortable in your own skin, but he thinks you were sculpted by the gods, inside and out.

You grab the door and swing it closed a bit, standing just at the opening to say goodbye to your helpful and handsome neighbor. You’d rather close the door in his face and go hide in a closet for two hours, but you have things to do and that would be rude. So you muster up the courage to actually speak to him again. “Thank you for helping me, you really didn’t have to do that.” You tell him softly, having a hard time looking at him in the eyes. You feel your eyes widen as his fingers go under your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. “Come on now, ye don’t have tae hide from me.” He reassures you as he retracts his hand, a soft and crooked smile on his face. “An it wis na problem, an omega like ye shouldn’t be doin things like thon.” He tells you, and you can tell that he doesn’t mean it in a mean way. He means it in a supportive way.

Soap glances over his shoulder and lets out a little huff, his fists clenching a bit at his sides before he looks back at you. “e let me know gin ye iver neit help. Okay, little ane?” His voice is serious, like he would be offended if you didn’t come over and get him the next time you need something. You nod and start to close the door, giving him a polite wave before slowly closing the door. Once the door was closed, you turned and pressed your back against the wood, your eyes scanning the house before you. Your roommate isn't in his normal spot anymore and you can hear Jasmine’s footsteps making her way down the stairs to help you unload the groceries.

“I heard a voice.” She states as she steps onto the hardwood with her sock covered feet, padding over to you at the door. “Sounded like a man.” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows at you. Your face immediately erupts into a blush, shaking your head dismissively as you stutter over your words. You don’t know what you can say that will be able to save you here. “It was the neighbor, he wanted to help me carry the groceries in.” You tell her, your voice shaking a bit more than you are comfortable with. You quickly bend over and gather a few bags into your hands and carry them to the kitchen, hoping that you can get away from Jasmine’s interrogation. Jasmine follows you with the rest of the bags and continues to pester you about it. You should’ve known better, she never gives up.

“Come on, you never talk to anyone and I heard you speak more than two words.” She exclaims just loud enough for you to hear, not wanting the mysterious roommate to hear your private life. You purse your lips and start to unload a bag. “We saw each other in the store, he’s a beta.” You tell her with a shrug, your voice quiet. You are caught off guard when she takes the cans you have in your hands into hers and pushes them to the side. “Spill.” She demands, her eyes squinting at you as a blush forms on your face.

“I don’t know, Jas. I felt comfortable around him..” You tell her, rocking slightly back and forth on your heels. “..I guess he’s cute, but he has a pack already.” You explain, continuing your train of thought. “He has two alphas. It would never work out anyways.” You say dismissively, shrugging her hands off of your shoulders. She has a smirk on her face, feeling victorious finally getting the information out of you. “You never know, hun. Things could turn around in the end.” She tries to perk you up, not wanting this to discourage you from going after you want. This is the first time that you’ve shown interest in someone other than people from the tv shows that you watch. She hopes that if things end up not working, that it won’t stop you from forming a bond with someone in the future. She knows how hard it can be to not get what you want so badly, and being so close to having it too.

The room is silent, other than the sound of bags rustling and things being put away, as you clear the room from the grocery bags. It doesn’t take the two of you long to unload the groceries since you didn’t get too much. Being inside of crowded stores by yourself makes it feel like your head is full of water, everything becomes overwhelming so you can’t stay long enough to get a lot. “Thank you for getting the groceries.” Jasmine says as she wraps her arms around you, squeezing tight to give you some compression. She can tell that you had a rough day, and then having to go to the store on top of that made it that much worse. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t go, work went on later than I thought it would.” She apologies, her voice muffled by your head as she presses her relaxed lips against your head.

You can feel the tension from the day start to leave your body as you are comforted by a familiar beta. You can tell that she is projecting her scent to help you calm down, her enhanced cinnamon scent almost burning your nose. While Soap helped you calm down after the store, he wasn’t able to wipe that discomfort from your body like Jasmine can. You are forever grateful for having her in your life, she has become your rock in the last years, helping you become the best version of yourself while supporting you when you mess up along the way. She is the best friend that everyone wishes they had, it felt like a miracle that your two paths crossed and intertwined. “It’s the least I could do, you are so helpful to me all the time..” You mumble as you tuck yourself against her as she holds you tight. It feels like she is squeezing all the worries out of you.

The two of you stand like that for a long while, only pulling away when a loud shout is heard through the wall. It is the booming voice of an alpha, it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your eyes widen. Jasmine covers your ears quickly and smiles reassuringly at you as she waits for the alpha next door to stop. Your hands go to cover her hands with yours, pressing harder on her hands to block out the sound further. It takes a few minutes, but they eventually calm down and Jasmine uncovers your ears, brushing some hair out of your face. “You’re okay.” She reassures you. “Sounds like he was upset that his beta wasn’t spending time with him.” She explains, pulling away and stretching her arms a bit.

You start to feel guilty, knowing that you had taken up some of this beta’s time, this beta that has an alpha. You look at the ground and you can tell that your scent sours again when Jasmine cups your face. “It isn’t your fault.” She tells you firmly. “He shouldn’t have helped you if he knew it would upset his alpha. That isn’t your fault.” She states, pinching your cheek to get you to perk up. You grumble at that and swat away her hand. “What have I told you about pinching my cheeks?“ You huff as you push her hands away further. Jasmine just smiles, relieved that she was able to help you calm down so easily. You cock an eyebrow at her as she just continues to smile at you, making her throw her hands up in surrender.

Jasmine feels bad that the only person that you seem to show an interest in has two alphas. She knows how hard it is for you to function when there is an alpha around, having two in the same household with you seems impossible. She’s tried her best in the past years that you two have known each other to get you to open up around alphas. But, your past with alphas is hard to forget and there seems to be nothing that Jasmine can do to make you feel better. She gave up eventually, and ended up just accepting the quirk that you have. You are able to make it through life without it being too inconvenient for you, while it is hard and sometimes frustrating when an alpha doesn’t get the hint.

You can feel your ears perk up slightly when the roommate comes out of his room and comes to sit in his normal spot. You squint your eyes and then give Jasmine the side eye as if to ask ‘what’s with him?’ She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes and motions for you to come closer. You’re standing near him, and the roommate, who you still don't know the name of, has given Jasmine no reason to trust him. You are quick to listen to Jasmine, not questioning her for a second. You step towards his and grab her hand for comfort.

He’s never once tried to help in any of the house responsibilities or tried to help either of the two of you with emotional needs, which isn’t quite normal for a beta that is in such close quarters with other people. Most betas and omegas take on the responsibility to help in these kinds of situations, even if they are not in a pack together. The place that you live in will be peaceful if you take care of the things inside of it. The only exception to this unspoken rule you can think of would be if he is in a rival pack, but he lives with two random strangers and doesn’t have any marks on his neck so he’s not in a pack. Nothing about this man makes sense to you or Jasmine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soap watches as you turn slightly and the door closes softly, he can’t help the smile that covers his face. He can tell that he makes you a little nervous, but he can’t help himself from teasing someone as cute as you are, even just a little bit. He turns on his heels and walks with a newfound energy towards their side of the conjoined building. He walks across the top of the driveway, having to squeeze his muscular body between the garage door and car that was parked there. It was probably Gaz's, the man never drove his own car, he either had the others drive him, or borrowed one of their cars for the day. It was frustrating, but the three of them can’t resist that slight pout that comes to his pretty lips when they get upset at him.

Soap reaches the door and pushes it open, smiling as he enters the house, stepping into the small entryway that has only a table and a mirror. The boys were never too keen on decorating, only doing what they needed. He closes the door behind him and he doesn’t even make it five five steps into the kitchen before he feels a hard chest against his back and an angry puffing breath against his ear. From the vanilla and mahogany scent turned moldy, Soap could tell that it is Ghost that is angrily making himself known. “Care to explain why you smell like an omega?” Ghost growls out, his hands going to grip Soaps elbows tightly. “Why..” He takes a deep breath. “It’s recen’.” He growls lowly.

Soap feels panic rising in his chest, feeling as though he’d been caught. If it were normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be so nervous that Ghost was mad. But he’s been flirting with you, trying to touch you when he shouldn’t even really be talking to you with how worked up the boys have been recently. “Um.., yeah.” Soap hesitated, his voice coming out a little squeaky at first. “She wis takin the groceries inside aw bi herself.” He explains, trying to move his arms so that he can reassure Ghost with his touch. Ghost doesn’t budge, he only lets out a warning growl to let Soap know that he is exactly where he wants him to be.

Ghost can feel his anger growing and swelling inside of his chest, he feels like he can’t control himself. He huffs and puffs for a moment, his grip tightening on Soap’s elbows. “Are you fucking kidding me, Johnny?” Ghost asks, making Soap’s heartbeat pick up. He knows that Ghost would never hurt him, but after seeing what he’s like when torturing someone for information and on top of his guilt behind the situation, Soap can’t help but get nervous around him when he’s this angry. “You barely fricking greeted me when came home from training the other day because you had to take care of price. Which is fucking peachy. Bu' then you go on a date with him so he can ‘make i' up to you’! meanwhile, i’m over here pulling my damned hair ou' because i can’' ge' a single piece of attention from either of my betas!” Ghost rants, his voice increasingly getting louder the longer he talks.

His grip on Soap’s arm is tightening with every second that passes, starting to become painful. “Ow, Simon..” Soap quietly complains, trying to softly tug his arms out of Ghost’s grip. Ghost immediately lets go and starts to pace around, his hands going to his hair. Soap turns around to face him with a worried look on his face. It isn’t normal for Ghost to act like this. “Then you go to the store to buy food from the store, your alpha even called you while you were quite! no' only did you hardly pay attention to him while he was quite talking, you came home empty handed!” He shouts, stopping to point a finger at him accusingly. “And then you come home smelling like the omega nex' door! because she needed help!” He mocks. “She has a pack literally inside her house!” Ghost reminds Soap

All soap can do is stand there with a guilty look on his face, nodding along with Ghost’s yelling. “You better hurry your sorry arse to Price's office.” Ghost growled, his voice low. “You better be thankful he’s dealing with you, i wouldn’ have gone so easy.” He tells Soap, glaring at him as he slithers around him and scurries up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @Horny-bish @Wizzdot @the-loneyest

Please put your age in your bio if you want to be added :)

A/N: really sorry about the wait this time guys. I had this all planned out and was working on it nonstop just for my dog to stop walking. It was crazy. She’s doing a lot better now, she’s pretty wobbly on her feet but we don’t have to help her walk anymore.

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ballsbalb · 3 days ago

Text

i know this is off topic for this blog, but i really think the fallout from this whole ‘defund x, y, and z’ bullshit that trump and his goons are so obsessed with is gonna be so bizarre.

because most institutions, organizations, and individuals who receive a lot of funding from the federal government are rural, right-leaning areas.

“DEFUND THE DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION!”— the DoE is almost purely a financial distribution agency. congress authorizes funds, such as saying ‘x amount of money for arts programs,’ and they distribute that money. most schools receive a vast majority of their funding from local/state agencies/entities, so getting rid of federal funding for schools would disproportionately affect rural communities & schools who don’t get as much from local/state programs, and thus rely heavily on federal funding.

“DEFUND NPR”— that means defunding the federal communications commission, which gives out grants & funding to radio and tv stations. NPR receives less than 1% of their funding from the federal government, and most stations in cities, which tend to be more left-leaning, have similar budgets, with very little of their funding coming from the federal government or the FCC. you know who DOES rely on those federal grants? rural radio stations who talk about shit like crop rotation and tractor prices, which rural communities love. their budgets are often made up of upwards of 80% from federal grants, and will be completely destroyed by defunding of the FCC.

the CDC does vital work with infectious diseases, which disproportionately impact rural communities with minimal access to healthcare.

western NC, which republicans love using as a political tool & which a lot of my family comes from, has been consistently screwed over by the republican-led NC state legislature, who refuse to authorize money for rebuilding, simply because it shifts blame onto the democratic governor & serves their political interests. trump defunding FEMA will greatly harm rebuilding & recovery efforts.

rural areas rely heavily on financial services like social security & medicaid, which the current administration wants to desecrate.

the decreasing max allowable percent of overhead costs from NIH research grants that was announced yesterday will disproportionately impact smaller universities that serve less affluent areas, who rely on overhead money to sustain their infrastructure. it will also harm university-based research hospitals that many people from rural areas travel to & rely on.

i can go on, but it’s just mental to me how incredibly uneducated and ignorant trump supporters are. they’re just dumb. i’m sorry, im not gonna pull the “they’re misguided! they’re uneducated!” yeah, sure. but they’re also just. kind of dumb.

they’ve voted against their own interests because their blind hatred of minorities across the board & their own stupidity is more important to them than actual, meaningful change that helps their communities.

no, i’m not saying that “rural communities deserve bad things.” i’m from the south, trust me, i know how this goes. i’m also not saying all people from rural communities are trumpy morons. again, i’m from the south, i understand this kind of thing. but those who did vote for trump, or didn’t vote at all, and live in rural areas, are absolutely going to get what they voted for & it’ll completely fuck them over, and i’m absolutely done giving them any sympathy. but i absolutely do feel for those who are stuck in rural areas and who aren’t blind hateful assholes. i know many people currently/formerly in that situation, and so many people in rural areas/communities are phenomenal people. i know there are a lot of you guys out there, and this isn’t some kind of ‘well you deserve it for living in a red state’ bullshit, because that’s stupid and illogical.

#donald trump #trump administration #fuck trump #leftism #usa #usa politics #politics #npr #education #western nc #rant #personal

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realwildernessbaby · 1 day ago

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hello I don't know if you'll want to write about this But I was thinking in the Natalie Scatorccio nat x fem! leitor Where she dates As a user the nat Ends up getting jealous When you see the user chatting With the ex-boyfriend The two begin to argue And with The hormones of adolescence Then They end In a kissing session And sex I'm not very creative sorry

jealous

summary: a fun day of shopping turns cold. nat’s jealousy takes over when you run into your ex and have a little conversation with him.

warnings: smut, angst, swearing

pairings: pre-crash!nat x reader

y/n: your name

it was another one of you and nat’s little shopping trips. it was basically your favorite bonding activity to go and buy (and sometimes steal) stupid little trinkets. you hear a chuckle behind you.

“y/n! look at this shit!”

you turn around and your eyes meet nat’s hands. she’s holding an interesting little toy. it’s like a big puffball with scary eyes and a round beak.

“what the hell is that?”

you breathe out, laughing at her.

“it’s one of those old furby things.”

she laughs as well, but then pauses for a moment like she’s about to spill top secret info. she leans in.

“should we get it?”

you both burst into laughter in the middle of this random store. you ponder for a moment and reply.

“fuck it.”

the two of you march up to the cashier, and something about him looks familiar. oh shit. that’s your ex, josh. he’s got a bit of a mustache but he still looks the same. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to figure you out, then recognizes you too.

“oh, hey y/n.”

he says kindly.

“hey. haven’t seen you in a while.”

you respond awkwardly, to which he laughs. you feel nat squeeze your hand, as if begging you to walk away but you ignore it, continuing the conversation. eventually the two of you purchase it. nat seems off… she wants to go home.

“are you not feeling well or somethin’, baby?”

you ask, your eyes filled with a soft sympathetic look.

“i’m fine.”

she mutters defensively.

the car ride is silent and awkward. nat eventually pulls up to your house, the designated hangout spot since your parents were away on work. she gets out before even saying anything and walks up to your door, leaving you to jog after her.

“nat! nat, what’s going on?”

you ask as you trail behind her, but she looks straight ahead as she unlocks your door and walks inside, making a beeline for your couch. nat falls back onto the soft sofa, seemingly melting into it. she sighs.

“that was him right? josh?”

she mutters. you sigh and sit down next to her.

“yup… that’s the guy. i haven’t talked to him in a really long time.”

you say truthfully.

“well, you two seem to get along, huh?”

you pause for a moment, shocked by her comment, and then smirk.

“ohhhh, i get it. someone’s jealous.”

“what? y/n i’m not jealous, i’m just…”

she pauses, unable to finish her sentence. you gently grab her face and kiss her.

“you’re mine, okay? not josh, not anyone else. you.”

she looks up to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“wanna prove that?”

she challenges, and without a warning you smash your lips into hers, relishing in the warmth and taste of her. you crawl on top of her, straddling her waist. when she repositions her thighs it causes you to groan into the kiss and grind into her.

“mmm… someone’s desperate.”

nat breathes out as she separates her lips from yours and attaches them to your neck. nat continues this assault for a while, leaving love marks everywhere she can. you’ve been grinding on her so long you already feel like you could cum, and she senses it. nat grabs your thighs and holds you still.

“nope, not like this.”

she says, referring to your near orgasm and flips you under her. fuck, she’s so hot hovering over you. she reaches under your shirt, gently teasing your boobs before lifting up your shirt and bra.

“hips up.”

she instructs, to which you then lift your hips and she pulls down your shorts. her lips trail kisses down your near bare body until she reaches your panties. she looks up at you as if asking for consent.

“please…”

you moan out, and she takes it as a sign to pull your panties down with her teeth. she flicks her tongue out to taste the wetness on the fabric, and groans against it.

“that wet just from kissing?”

she teases you as she discards the panties and dives in without a warning. she begins her attack on your clit, gently kissing and tasting it just to test the waters. after a few more moments of this, she suctions her lips against the bundle of nerves, sucking and releasing… you cry out in pleasure.

“fuck… keep doing that~”

you moan, so she goes even harder, eliciting louder whimpers out of you. she grabs your thighs, and heaves your legs over her shoulders for more comfort. your hips begin to buck into her, so she takes it as a sign to gently tease your wet hole with her pointer finger. you groan at the sensation, so she slips it in. she pushes the finger in and out, gently curling it at your sweet spot. when she feels you tighten around her finger, she slips in her middle finger to join the fun. the fingers curl together, working in and out of you as she continues to suck your clit.

“fuck~ nat, ‘m gonna~”

you yell out, and a stream of liquid shoots out. you’re left in shock, not sure what just happened. nat is able to swallow some of the liquid, but most gets on her face.

“did you just?”

she looks up at you with a smirk. fuck. you just squirted.

“shit, i’m so sorry- i didn’t even know i could do that…”

you respond frantically, and as your words trail off nat replies.

“nah, it was hot.”

your eyes widen at her comment, and she continues, fueled by your shock.

“you think you could do it again?”

#lesbian #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #smut #yellowjackets #yellowjackets smut #minorsdni #wlw #sophie thatcher

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snowyroads · 3 days ago

Note

can we please have a snippet of whatever you’re working on right now? please 🙏🏽 i’ve been refreshing your tumblr and ao3 for weeks now. sorry i just love your work!

babes im literally so sorry!!!😖😖 I’ve been neglecting you all 😫💔💔

and don’t be sorry AT ALL i appreciate your love for my work sm!!🥹💗💗

so i’ve been working on like all my wips all at once (which i probably shouldn’t do and should just focus on one at a time but i’m crazy like that)

so below the cut imma give you all the snippets i have so far for some of my wips in hopes of holding yall over till i can get my shit together and post something 😭😭 (tho last time i went on Ao3 it was down 😔)

The Game Plan au: (it’s based off a movie btw, so if you haven’t seen it then this probably wont make any sense but it’s a bit of a slow burn one w Joe and Ja’marr so)

Ja’marr plans to spend his free day relaxing on his couch. With no football game or practice, Ja’marr has an empty schedule. The tv plays some ESPN analysts on last week's games but Ja’marr pays no mind to it. He thinks most of those analysts are full of shit anyway.

He’s close to taking a midday nap with his dog Tiger curled up next to him when he hears his doorbell ring. Confused by the unplanned guest and his doorman not telling him about a visitor, Ja’marr turns the tv off and slowly walks to his door, looking out the peephole only to see nobody there. Ja’marr throws open the door, ready to cuss the ding dong ditch-er out but he stops himself when he looks down to see a young girl.

With brown skin and dark curly hair down to her shoulders, dressed in a bright pink puffer jacket and a purple suitcase sitting beside her. Ja’marr understands why she’s here now.

“Oh, look, I don’t want any girl scout cookies.” Ja’marr apologizes and goes to close the door but the little girl sticks her hand out to stop it from closing. “Alright, look what I got,” Ja’marr pulls a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. “Here ya go.”

The little girl looks at him like he’s crazy. “I don’t want any money.” She says. Tiger barks somewhere behind him. Ja’marr watches in shock as the girl lets herself in, pushing past him and the heavy apartment door.

“You have a bulldog!” She exclaims, crouching down to pet him. “Come ‘ere boy!” His vicious attack dog runs up to her and immediately rolls over on his back, letting the little girl scratch his tummy. Traitor.

“Hey, weren’t you taught about the danger of strangers?” Ja’marr asks, confused as he follows the girl into his living room. He doesn’t know what to do with the kid, who clearly can’t take no for an answer. “Where are your parents?”

“You’re not a stranger.” The little girl finally says as she continues to look around the apartment in amazement. “This place is huge.” She says in wonder, completely ignoring his second question.

“Wait, go back. What do you mean ‘I’m not a stranger’?” Ja’marr persists. The little girl stops wandering around and stands in front of Ja’marr, giving him her full attention.

“Hi, my name is Mya Chase and I’m your daughter.” She says.

Ja’marr must be dreaming. He laughs, “Larry put you up to this, huh?” Ja’marr says and Mya scrunches her eyebrows together. “The guy downstairs at the desk. He told you to prank me.” Ja’marr laughs again but Mya just stays stoic before eventually rolling her eyes.

“She told me you would do this.” She mumbles and unzips her pink coat to grab something from a hidden pocket inside the jacket. It’s a white envelope with ‘For Ja’marr Chase’ written in bold letters. Ja’marr takes it and opens it to see a birth certificate. Ja’marr scoffs and looks back to Mya, who’s still completely serious and unbothered. “Your name is on it.” She says, shrugging.

“My name is on it…” Ja'marr chuckles and pulls the certificate all the way out and reads the bottom of the document. “Father: Ja’marr Chase.” With his signature and everything. Or well, a forged signature.

What the fuck.

“Why do you have so many pictures of yourself?” Mya asks. her hands trailing against the glass of his trophy case, leaving behind grubby little fingerprints. Ja’marr ignores the question and instead calls for backup.

Tee Higgins shows up in a matter of minutes. The first thing Ja’marr says when he walks in is “Help.” And that’s when Tee sees the little girl sitting at the kitchen island with a barbie doll in her hands.

“Oh!” Tee says in surprise and Ja’marr gives him a look of ‘I told you this was big’.

They whisper to each other at the other end of the island as Mya pays attention to her doll. The birth certificate sits idly in between them.

“I mean, that’s definitely your name on the certificate.” Tee points out.

“Thanks Tee, I didn’t notice that.” Ja’marr deadpans. He rubs at his eyes, dragging his hands down his face with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do, man.”

“Well, have you talked to Kelly yet?” Tee asks. And Ja’marr looks down at the paper with Mother: Kelly Harris written on it. He hasn’t even thought about her in the midst of everything.

“No, we haven’t talked since I went to her house to break things off and we…we—” Ja’marr suddenly remembered what happened the last time he saw Kelly. He turns to the fridge behind him, “I’m hungry, is anyone else hungry?”

“Ja’marr, when did this ‘We’ happen?” Tee questions.

“Like, eight or so years ago.” Ja’marr whispers back and Tee turns to Mya.

“How old are you, kid?” Tee asks.

“Eight.” She says simply, Tee turns back to Ja’marr.

“Congratulations, Ja’marr.” He says with a grin. Tiger barks in the background. Ja’marr feels like they’re both laughing at him.

“This can’t be happening.” Ja’marr sighs. He can’t have a kid. Not with the Championship right around the corner.

(so as you can see Joe hasn’t even been introduced yet so that one’s gonna be a long one)

Pro Bowl angst: (this came to me after watching all the clips we got of Joemarr during the Pro Bowl and i wanted to write almost like a character study of Ja’marr’s thoughts throughout the events and shit)

Ja’marr’s excited about the Pro Bowl games. Really. He enjoyed going last year and despite being upset about not being in the Superbowl, he’s ready for the fun-natured competition.

The hot Orlando sun beats down on his back, he feels sweat bead down the side of his face. After a week in the cold Paris weather, Ja’marr relishes in the humid air.

The world around him is dark and orange, the sunglasses propped up on his nose allows him to glance around without being too noticeable. They’re outside of the stadium, getting ready to take some team photos; fans and camera crews standing all around them. Ja’marr meets a few fans, signs a few jerseys and footballs, and does some interviews for the media. It isn’t until he’s set free does he spot Joe.

Wearing the same red shirt Ja’marr has on, only difference being the number and the name on the back, Joe squats down to talk to a little kid with a football that’s almost as big as him in his hands. It’s now that Ja’marr’s thankful for the glasses hiding his stare. Ja’marr watches as Joe intently listens to the kid in front of him, nodding every now and then, blue eyes squinting from the harsh sunlight.

(that’s literally all i have so far😖😖😖)

sorry once again that i haven’t posted in forever tho!!! :( it’s literally like just a whole brick has hit me and i can’t get inspired to write cuz i do have time to now but i can’t get my fingers to type 😭😭😭

soon my lovelies, soon 💗💗💗

#joe burrow #jamarr chase #joemarr #football rpf #ao3 #anon ask #so many wips #my wrtitng #cincinnati bengals #love ya <3

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sashaisready · 1 day ago

Text

Feel The Burn: Chapter 6

Lance Tucker x Reader | Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Series Masterlist

Your casual situationship with notorious flirt Lance Tucker comes to a shocking head at a party, fortunately the mysterious stranger you meet that same night is more than happy to help take your mind off it.

Wordcount: Approx 3.5k

(Warnings for panic attacks in this chapter)

Hey gang, back again! Thanks for all of the love you've shared for this series, your comments/reblogs really make my day- truly. We've had a lot of lovely Chris lately so thought I'd bring back the mothertucker himself 😁 As always, thank you for any engagement.

“It’s fibula! Fibula!” Lance exclaims in a heightened whisper as he smacks his hand on the table.

“Shh! Don’t let other teams hear you!” you admonish, “and are you sure? It’s definitely not femur?”

“Of course I’m sure! The femur is higher up. The fibula is here,” he pats the spot on his leg in demonstration, his voice strained with frustration. “Can you trust me, please? I know this stuff! It’s my job!”

“I think we gotta go with him,” Kat admits, “he doesneed to know anatomy for his coaching and trainer stuff or whatever…”

Matt and the others nod in agreement as Lance smirks at you victoriously. You sigh and dejectedly scribble down fibula on the answer sheet.

“Fine…but if you’re wrong…”

“I’m not wrong…”

“But if you are…”

“Not an option…and oh,” he jabs the page with his finger, “fibula only has one ‘b’ by the way…”

“And which bone is this?” you ask childishly as you flip him off.

“Well, that depends, it’s actually several bones…”

Kat groans and snatches the answer sheet away from you, “quit it, you guys! You’ve been bickering all through this!”

She’s right, you have. You know that your behaviour has been incredibly juvenile, but you can’t stop yourself. Lance knows exactly how to press your buttons and any attempts to rise above it have been thwarted by your own anger that you can’t seem to keep under control. He just gets under your skin!

And if you are being self-aware, there’s probably still some remnants of hurt simmering under the surface that you haven’t fully worked through yet.

“We’re going to take a short break before the next round,” the bartender announces on the microphone, “and just a reminder for teams to keep it down when we’re reading the questions…”

He looks over pointedly at your table. Lance sits up straight and glares over at the other tables, “Yeah…you heard him – you’re being very disruptive,” he says towards the other teams as he crosses his arms, his tone reprimanding as they stare back incredulously. You manage to stifle a laugh at their indignant faces.

Matt goes up to the bar for another round of drinks as the rest of you settle into the break, the sound of chatting and laughter filling the busy bar as people relax and mingle.

“Soo…” Kat practically shrieks as she drags her chair closer to yours, “now we can talk - tell me EVERYTHING. How did the date go? When am I meeting him properly?! I barely said hi at the party…”

“Oh, is this Chaz?” Lance innocently interjects.

You scoff and glower at him over your shoulder as you turn your body away from him to face Kat, “his name is Chris”.

“Right, Chris. Sorry. Just a very forgettable name I guess…Lotta guys out there named Chris, you know…”

You ignore him and turn your attention back to Kat, “it was great. We went out for cocktails, had a blast. He drove me home. He’s a great guy…” you smile.

“Drove you home after drinking? Red flag,” Lance chimes in from behind you. You ignore him again.

“…he’s…he’s really nice,” you continue on, unable to mask the dreamy smile that creeps onto your face. “He’s very upfront about how he feels, a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kinda guy, you know? It’s refreshing…We’re just seeing how it goes, taking each day as it comes, but I really like him. We’re having dinner at the weekend.”

Lance is uncharacteristically silent. You don’t look at him but in your peripheral see that he takes a quiet sip of his drink.

“That’s great,” Kat smiles earnestly as she places her hand onto yours, “I’m really happy for you, babe, you deserve it”.

She's right, you do. You return her smile but suddenly feel very aware of Lance’s presence looming behind you as you share more about the date. He has no smart aleck quips, no sassy putdowns, there’s just a very heavy silence. You can practically feel his eyes burning into the back of your head. You hear him as he shifts awkwardly in his seat, his fingers drumming on the table as if trying to release pent-up energy.

You can’t help but revel a little in his discomfort. After all, he treated you very badly – discarding you like nothing and then accusing you of doing things you hadn’t. He hadn’t seemed to consider that you could bounce back so quickly, or that another man would want you – and want you so unashamedly. More fool him. If this experience had taught you anything, it was not to underestimate yourself or your worth. It may sound petty, but there was some satisfaction in showing him what he was missing.

Matt arrives back from the bar with a loaded tray and begins handing out the drinks, “oh shoot, I forgot Marcy’s vodka soda…” he grumbles.

Out of nowhere you suddenly feel quite overwhelmed, maybe the significance of talking about your feelings for Chris out loud…the unresolved pain from how Lance had hurt you…the exciting but still scary pivot to actively prioritising yourself. It’s a lot. You abruptly feel too hot, far too close to everyone, a tight ache pulsing in your chest as sweat pools at the back of your neck. It feels like your body is screaming that you need to get the hell out of there. You try to lock your focus onto keeping your breathing even as Kat obliviously scolds Matt for his oversight.

“I’ll get it,” you say a little too quickly as you shoot up on your feet and grab your purse, “gonna grab some water anyway…”

“Thanks!” chirps Marcy.

“Okay babe, be quick – they’re starting again soon,” Kat adds.

You nod quickly and make a beeline for the bar, grateful just to have some breathing room again. A brief respite while you try and figure out what's made you freak out...and how to stop it. You order the drinks between shaky breaths, not feeling able to fully fill up your lungs as the bartender eyes you with concern and prepares your order.

“You okay?” Lance asks as he appears from nowhere and slides up next to you.

“Lance, please,” you tell him as you keep your attention on the busy bartender, your voice unfortunately more pleading than demanding, “not now, alright? I don’t want any shit”.

“I’m not here to give you shit,” he leans on the bar, his tone softening, “you looked like you were having a panic attack or something. I came to check you were okay”.

“And make some joke…some needling remark…” you jeer.

“No,” he says firmly.

You look up at him properly for the first time, he’s watching you carefully – his smirk missing for the first time that night. He furrows his brows as he assesses you. He pauses, then lifts his hand as if to touch your shoulder before seeming to think better of it – snapping it back to where it was.

You glance over at your table, your friends oblivious. How did Lance, of all people, pick up on what they’d missed? And you were so sure you were hiding it well…

“I’m fine,” you mutter softly. The bartender gives you the drinks and you add them to the tab, taking a gentle sip of your water. It still feels like you’re struggling to find your breath. You’re seconds away from bolting out of the door. You’ve been anxious before, but have never experienced anything like this.

“I just felt a little-it’s hot in here, is all” you stammer.

He nods, “it is warm, yeah. Hopefully that water helps you feel…cooler”.

It hangs in the air unspoken, but it’s clear he’s not fully buying what you’re selling.

“We don’t have to talk. I’m just going to be over here, to make sure you’re okay,” he takes a step back and gives you physical space.

You roll your eyes and shrug, “do whatever you want. I don’t care”.

“Take a really deep breath,” he says commandingly.

“I don’t need-”

“Just humour me and do it would ya? And I’ll go back to the table and leave you in peace”.

“Ugh. Fine…”

You begrudgingly inhale deeply, blowing the air out of your mouth. You won’t admit it, but it feels a little better.

“Good. But do it again, slower this time. When you exhale, do it slowly. Make an ‘o’ shape with your lips like you’re slowly blowing through a straw”. He speaks with authority, but it’s not dictatorial.

You scoff at him but obey, letting the air leave your lungs in the way he instructed. It does feel calming, physically it’s helping your breathing to settle, and the act of focusing your mind on it also seems to have a soothing effect. You do it a few more times.

“Now…name three things you can see,” he says, his tone authoritative.

“Huh…?”

“Just tell me three things you can see…it will help. Trust me.”

You blink, unsure whether to trust him but not really having many other options. “Uh…the busy bar. Lots of people around it.”

“Good. What else? Any colours”

“The…the bathroom door over there. It’s…red”. You motion with your hand to gesture towards it.

“Good. One more?”

“Your jacket, it’s blue. Bright blue”.

He grins, touching the fabric . “I know, gorgeous right? Made in the USA. Now two things you can hear. Go..”

“Um. Music. I think it’s AC/DC on the speakers in here.”

“It is. What else?”

“The main door, at the entrance. It makes a loud clunking noise when someone opens it”. You both look towards the door and sure enough, you hear the clang as it closes.

“Good. Alright, last one now and you’re done - one thing you can smell”.

A server wanders by holding a tray of food, placing it on the table behind you.

“Uh. Fries. I can smell fries. I kinda want some now…” You look over longingly at the bowl.

Lance chuckles and without hesitation dips his hand down and grabs a fry, ignoring the outraged ‘hey!’ from the owners. He simply does not give a fuck. You look at him in shock as he passes the fry to you, and you’re so mortified that you just take it. Mindlessly putting it in your mouth.

“One thing you can taste?” he smiles.

“Um. Fries,” you laugh awkwardly. “Lance…you can’t do stuff like that…” you hiss with embarassment.

But he just shrugs.

It hits you then. You feel…better? Although you’re still a little off, it feels like you’ve reset somehow. The room doesn’t feel as ‘close’ as it did a few minutes before. Lance had successfully walked you through it. You sheepishly glance over at him.

“Thank-you,” you say quietly.

He shrugs again, nonchalant with his hands in his pants pockets, “no biggie, you’re welcome”.

“You kinda coached me there…”

He grins boyishly and shrugs again, “well, yeah. It’s what I do.”

The two of you exchange a hesitant smile and then the bartender announces that the next round is about to start. You both head back to the table in silence.

Huh.

🥇

Trivia continues and Lance seems to have mellowed slightly. He’s still being a smartass, but less so at you. Which is somewhat more bearable. You’re still reeling from him helping you earlier, grateful but guarded – unsure of what his game might be. You never quite know where you stand with Lance, so anything does could mean something else entirely.

Aside from that, you both seem to have hit your stride in the trivia game – on a roll with the questions with a new sense of synchrony you were lacking before. You quickly reel off answers between you.

“The Godfather”.

…

“1865”.

…

“Burkina Faso”.

…

“Jesse! Oh man what’s his last name…Jesse…Oswald?”

“Jess Owens, cupcake.”

“Oh, right…right”.

…

The others observe you both with an air of confusion, but don’t dare question whatever strange system appears to be generating this new-found productivity.

The bartender reads out the answers one by one on the mic and your team are delighted that you appear to have scored quite highly. Each time you get one right the table exchanges a muted ‘yesss’ and an occasional fist pump.

“…and the answer to number 15, fibula. That’s F-I-B-U-L-A”.

“Don’t even…” you begin as you look up at Lance.

“I didn’t say anything…” he smirks, crossing his arms victoriously.

“You didn’t have to!” you laugh, flicking a beer mat at him. He deftly dodges it and you roll your eyes.

Kat watches the two of you, an unreadable expression on her face.

After the scores have been counted, you await with bated breath to be told that your table placed…

…second.

Narrowly missing out on first place by two measly points.

“I demand a recount!” scoffs Lance.

“Second place is still really great, way better than we usually do,” Matt responds with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Kat agrees, “you guys really pushed our score up. Didn’t see that coming,” she smiles warmly as she gestures at you and Lance. Others at the table nod and smile in agreement. “Thanks, you two. Weird trivia dream team over here”.

You feel a sudden wave of embarrassment crash through you, you hope they don’t somehow think you’re sleeping with him again. You know Kat isn’t implying anything, she doesn’t mean any harm, and you were a good team tonight…but you don’t want your friends thinking you’re some pushover who allows herself to be treated poorly and then all is forgotten. As if you’re just grateful for the attention, lapping it up like a stray dog who gets offered a treat. You find yourself subconsciously moving away from him in your seat, in case you’re too close.

“Yeah, we totally carried you guys,” Lance exclaims cockily, “alright. Silver isn’t quite as good as what I’m used to, but I’ll take it. Great work, Cupcake. Even if you do need to brush up on your anatomy knowledge”. He nudges you with his elbow, grinning.

“Whatever,” you reply dismissively as you take a sip from your glass, hoping to dispel any incorrect ideas that your friends may hold about the situation.

His brow twitches slightly in response but he quickly moves on, continuing to rag on Matt and some of the others as he boasts about his victory, at one point threatening to get his tattoo out.

You feel quite tired now, the few drinks you’ve had making you sluggish. The strange panic attack you had earlier must’ve spiked your adrenaline because now it feels like you’re crashing. Your eyelids feel heavy, your bed calls to you like a siren song. You keep thinking about how Lance managed to calm you down earlier. How did he do that?

You stay a little longer to chat – it’s nice to be with your friends and catch-up, and you don’t want to appear rude. After some time passes you feel like you’ve finally run out of road as your eyes get heavier, so you open your Uber app and arrange a ride home. You smile at the screen as you see a message from Chris.

Hope yourehaving fun. Cabt wait to see you again.

You chuckle at the typos, maybe he’s having a bit too much fun at the bar. You’ll reply when you get in your Uber, which thankfully is coming in a few minutes, so you get up and put your jacket on, signalling that you’re heading out.

“You leaving?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, I’m pretty beat,” you smile.

Kat lets out a wail of protest but it’s in jest, she wouldn’t ever try to guilt you into staying out later. She knows when your social battery is out and needs a charge, unlike hers which seems to be at full capacity at all times. Somehow.

“Thanks for kicking ass tonight,” she chirps as she moves to hug you, “we couldn’t have done it without you”.

“Happy to serve,” you tell her with a giggle as you return the hug.

“See you, Matt”.

“Later!”

You bid farewell to the others at the table as Lance watches you pensively. He suddenly gets to his feet and moves towards you.

“I’ll walk you out”.

“Oh, that’s okay you don-”

But he’s already walking towards the door. Fine. Whatever. You give the group a final wave as you begrudgingly follow him to the exit.

“We made a good team tonight, Cupcake,” he hums as he drops back in step with you.

“Mm,” you respond noncommittally. But he’s right, you did.

“What? That smart mouth of yours finally run outta steam?”

“I’m tired, Lance,” you scoff as you glance lazily down at your phone. The car should be here any moment.

He opens the door for you and you walk through, peering out into the street to see if you can make out the Uber in the darkness. An uncomfortable silence sits thickly as you both stand outside. But you’re not going to make it any easier for him.

“Look,” he sighs as he scratches the back of his neck, “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time earlier…”

You turn to him, surprised, that was the last thing you expected him to say.

“…believe it or not,” he continues, “I’m not just trying to give you shit. It’s actually really fun…being here with you…doing this. I forgot how much-how fun it is...hanging out with you. I know I get carried away. I just like it…a lot. So…thanks, for letting me being here. I get that it’s your turf, and I appreciate it”.

You blink at him, watching him stumble over his words and feeling not quite able to process what he’s saying. It’s always disarming on the rare occasions he’s not all swagger and confidence.

He wasn’t just trying to torture you?

He actually enjoyed it?

Is he just…trying to hang out with you?!

What?

You blanch, unsure of how to respond.

“Lance…look. It was kinda fun, weirdly…and I am honestly grateful for you helping me with my panic attack earlier…but I dunno, this is still…it’s still raw for me. You…you hurt me. You made me out to be someone I wasn’t…

He sighs, gritting his teeth, “I know. I fucked up. And I’m sorry. And I know my apology doesn’t mean much…but I do mean it. Really. I swear I haven’t got some ulterior motive. I just…I just like being with you. Even if it’s just playing trivia. I’d like…for us to be friends. Maybe it’s too soon right now, but one day”.

You’re stunned, this was the most open he’d ever been with you – all of the times you’d been in each other’s beds, sharing showers, you’d fantasised about him opening up to you – and here it was happening on the street, outside of a bar, as you waited for a taxi. Part of you wants to ask him more about why he said those things on that night – but you’re not quite sure you could handle picking at that wound.

“Maybe. I guess we’ll see,” you responded dully. “I mean, it would be easier as we’re going to cross paths here and there with our friends tangled up like they are. But…let’s just see how we go”.

Although you’re happy with Chris, you still feel some of the wounds from what Lance did. He can’t magically erase that and be all buddy-buddy with you like it’s nothing. It would be nice to be friends with him, sure, and easier for nights like this – but it wasn’t that simple.

But he seems happy enough that you didn’t say no, offering a big grin and a fist pump. You scoff good-naturedly at him.

“Hey,” you ask, unable to mask your curiosity as the thought had plagued you all night, “how did you know how to do that stuff with the breathing and the questions…with the panic attack, I mean?”

You expect another little jibe but are surprised when he replies earnestly.

“It happens to some of the kids I coach sometimes,” he says casually, “they get themselves worked up worrying about a movement they can’t quite master, or a competition they’re anxious about…so I looked into how I could help. Did a class on it. Gotten pretty good at spotting the warning signs now. Could see yours a mile off, you looked like a deer in headlights”.

You nodded, slightly embarrassed at being exposed so easily, but quietly impressed that he took his job so seriously. “Well, thanks”.

“It’s cool,” he smiles.

A car pulls up to the kerb and the driver leans out of the window, calling your name to confirm if you’re his pick-up.

“That’s me!” you chime back as you walk to the car. Lance opens the back door and you thank him as you sidle in.

“See ya, Cupcake. Nice hanging out with you,”.

“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t the worst night of my life…” you shoot back.

He chuckles at your joke and leans down just before he closes the door. “Oh, and I’m glad it’s going well with that Chris guy. Really”.

You freeze, waiting for the inevitable punchline, but it doesn’t come.

“Just make sure he’s good to you,” he says solemnly as the door slams. Your eyebrows knit in surprise as you absorb what he just told you.

The driver pulls away, and you watch Lance get smaller in the rearview mirror.

🥇

#lance tucker #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x you #chris!destroyer #chris!destroyer x reader #destroyer chris #feel the burn fic

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samwellwinchesterthebrave · 1 day ago

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BuckTommyFluffebruary day 10: Sleepy Cuddles

This is day 10 of the challenge by @bucktommyfluffebruary and it was so sweet to write. The title of this one is from Movement by Hozier. I feel like Hozier fits them very well.

Atlas in His Sleeping

Read on ao3

Rating T / Words 3514

The party was winding down, quicker than it might have if it hadn’t been in a hospital. Most of the guests had already left. Only a handful remained, though both Maddie and Chimney seemed lost in their own world. The Buckley parents had already left though they’d promised to be back in the morning. Buck was still here, as was Tommy. He still couldn’t quite believe Tommy had made it here after that wildfire, still soot-covered and in his turnouts. It gave him a warm shivery feeling knowing that Tommy had done everything he could to make it here. For Chimney, yes, but also for him.

Currently, Tommy was sitting in one of the visitor chairs that had been dragged into the room. He was talking with Hen and Karen while valiantly trying to stay away. From his spot near the doorway, Buck could see that Tommy was slowly losing that battle. When he yawned for the third time in the last minute, Buck pushed away from where he had been surveying his family with a small, pleased smile. He gave Maddie a quick hug, smiled at Chimney and squeezed his shoulder, then headed over to Tommy. When Tommy looked up at him, his bleary eyes warming as they landed on his face, Buck held his hand out.

“C’mon, since you were dropped off here, I’ll give you a ride home,” Buck offered, waiting for Tommy to take his hand. He ignored the speculative look Karen shot him. “You look like you’re about two seconds away from falling asleep.”

“About that, yeah,” Tommy nodded. He took Buck’s hand and heaved himself to his feet. Then he turned to Hen and Karen. “It was great catching up. See you both around.”

“See you, Tommy,” Hen and Karen both replied in unison.

Everyone laughed then Tommy made his goodbyes to Maddie and Chimney. After that, it was a silent walk out of the hospital, their hands still linked. A few times, Tommy swayed exhaustedly. Buck caught him each time, nudging his shoulder until Tommy stood upright again. By the time they made it to Buck’s jeep, Tommy had yawned another five times.

“Sorry,” Tommy murmured as they got in the car. “I’m so exhausted.”

“It’s okay, I get it. So does everyone else,” Buck reassured him, putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder for a second before starting the jeep. “How about you give me your address and then you can doze while I drive?”

Tommy rattled off his address, the end punctuated by yet another yawn. Then, as Buck headed out of the parking lot, Tommy put his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Just to rest a bit until he got home. But his exhaustion pulled him under almost immediately. He woke to Buck shaking his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re here, let’s get you inside,” Buck said.

Once he was sure Tommy was awake, he got out and headed around to Tommy’s side. He took his hand again and led him inside. Not too far into the entryway, Tommy stripped out of his turnouts and shoved them into the closet near the door. That left him in a sweaty LAFD tshirt and pants. He yawned his way through a shower while Buck listened with half an ear to make sure he didn’t fall asleep standing up.

When he was finished, Tommy came back out into his bedroom in a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. He pulled Buck into a hug, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. When Buck’s hands came up to wrap around his back, Tommy sighed and sank further into the hug. His eyes slipped closed and exhaustion threatened to pull him under again.

“Hey, let’s get you into bed,” Buck murmured, running a hand through Tommy’s hair.

Much as they’d made out fairly passionately earlier at the hospital, part of him didn’t feel ready to try kissing Tommy again right now. Especially when the poor guy was all but dead on his feet. But his fingers still itched to touch Tommy, to hold him close and keep him tucked up against him.

“Should buy me dinner first,” Tommy grumbled, though he smiled against Buck’s neck. “Thank you for this, by the way. I appreciate you getting me home.”

“Of course,” Buck replied. “Come on, big guy, just turn a little bit. Here we go.”

Buck stepped both of them back so that Tommy’s legs hit the bed. He folded immediately, another yawn cracking his jaw. His eyes were still closed and his hands were starting to go slack. He suddenly shifted so that he could lay on the pillows. The motion caught Buck by surprise and he tumbled over Tommy to land in the middle of the bed. Tommy turned to him with a small noise deep in his throat then wrapped himself around Buck like an octopus.

“Tommy?” Buck whispered, his hands automatically finding their way to Tommy’s side and his hair at the base of his skull. “You still awake?”

A quiet snore met his question. Buck pulled his head back enough to study Tommy. Sure enough, his eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open as he snored. Shaking his head fondly, Buck decided there were worse places to spend the night. Slowly running his fingers through Tommy’s hair, Buck watched him sleep until sleep claimed him too. Definitely worse places and maybe none better.

~*~*~*~

The next time they fell asleep wrapped around each other was at Buck’s loft. They’d been dating for around two months and had been having a night in together. They’d spent it talking, sharing bites of ice cream after dinner. Afterwards, they’d made their way to Buck’s couch, curled up together and kissing lazily. There was no hurry, just the desire for the press of lips to lips, of hands trailing over skin, of pleasures whispered against temples or cheeks.

Buck had had a long shift so he was the one struggling to stay awake. He made a valiant effort for a short time, Tommy’s kisses giving him a small burst of energy. But slowly, he couldn’t fight the lassitude in his limbs. When he yawned into the kiss, he pulled back and laughed sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Buck said, blushing a little as he looked away. “Long day.”

“It’s all right,” Tommy smiled and there was a wealth of understanding in that smile. Buck reflected that it was nice to date someone who really understood the job. “You want to head up to bed?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Buck replied. Then he paused for a moment, sudden nerves in his belly. “Do you want to come with me?”

There was silence for a moment as Tommy digested the question. Buck tried not to fidget as he waited. Tommy had been in his bed before. They’d had sex multiple times over the past month or so. But it hadn’t been this... intimate and domestic before. He hadn’t come to Buck’s bed just to sleep, just to spend time with him.

Just when Buck thought Tommy was going to say no, Tommy smiled warmly at him and nodded. Buck breathed out a sigh and kissed him. It was soft and happy. Then, he led the way up to the loft. They undressed and settled in Buck’s bed, Buck curled into Tommy’s side with his head over Tommy’s heart. Sleep pulled at him, helped along by the gentle caress of Tommy’s hand over his back. Just as Buck was falling asleep, he heard Tommy murmur a bit of what sounded like a song.

“Honey, you, you’re Atlas in his sleeping, and when you move, I’m moved,” Tommy sang in a soft tenor that could barely be heard beyond the edges of the bed.

It sounded sweet and warm and full of an emotion Buck wasn’t quite ready to face yet. It coiled in his belly, biding its time. Still growing. Before he could ask what the song was, the darkness behind his eyes rose up and claimed him. His last thought before falling asleep was how much he liked Tommy’s voice when he sang.

~*~*~*~

They’d been together for five months and Buck couldn’t believe how he’d gone so long without Tommy in his life. They spent so much of their free time together it felt that they were becoming a unit. Buck and Tommy. BuckandTommy. When they were on shift, Buck often texted Tommy during his down times. And, whenever something happened that caught his interest, Buck’s first thought was to tell Tommy about it.

The feeling was mutual, to go by how often Tommy texted him and how eager he was for their time together.

They’d been spending so many nights together that something was rewired in Buck’s head. He found it hard to get to sleep now without a warm weight at his side. Without arms wrapped around him or legs tangled together under the blanket. Without the soft, breathy snores Tommy was prone to that Buck found surprisingly adorable.

He was in one of the bunks in the naproom, body curled around his phone so the dimmed light didn’t bother anyone else. He could hear breathing and snores coming from the others. But they weren’t right. They weren’t Tommy and he couldn’t sleep. Luckily, today was Tommy’s day off and he was perfectly willing to text with Buck.

Did you know that Chimney snores so loud he could shake the building when he sleeps on his back?

I do remember that. Someone used to poke him until he rolled over.

Huh, maybe I should try that. Maybe I can get to sleep then.

Bad day today?

No just... I miss you. I got used to you sleeping next to me.

Evan that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me in a while. I miss you too, baby.

Can we just talk until I fall asleep?

Of course, baby. Go poke Howie so he stops snoring. Then I’ll tell you about the dog I had to help rescue today.

Okay done. Eddie woke up to high five me as I headed back to my bunk. Why were you rescuing a dog? Weren’t you off today, sweetheart?

While they texted, Buck imagined Tommy’s voice speaking instead of the words on the screen. He smiled to himself as Tommy recounted his day. Slowly, his eyes grew heavier and the time between his replies grew longer. Eventually, he dropped off to sleep, Tommy’s voice echoing in his mind.

~*~*~*~

Two months. Two months since Tommy had walked out of the loft and out of Buck’s life. It wasn’t the absolute worst two months of his life but it was definitely up there. Though he was tempted so many times to reach out, Tommy clearly wanted his space. So Buck took up baking in an attempt to keep his mind off Tommy. And his hands off his phone so that he didn’t reach out. It didn’t help that he’d chosen baking because of Tommy’s sweet tooth.

Tonight, Buck had finally bowed to the cajoling from Hen and joined her and Karen at a bar. It was the first time he’d gone out since the breakup. Part of him ached, feeling the absence of Tommy at his side. When Karen came back from the bar with shots for the table, Buck quickly reached out and downed his. Maybe the alcohol would fill the space, even just temporarily. He lost count of how much he drank though a pleasant buzz filled his thoughts.

Then he saw Tommy.

He was standing at the bar, apparently ordering something. He smiled at the bartender and a flash of jealousy burned through Buck’s chest. It was a friendly, almost flirty smile. And the bartender was into it. As he handed over the drink Tommy had ordered, his fingers lingered a few seconds too long over Tommy’s. That had Buck shooting to his feet and pushing his way through the crowd. He was at Tommy’s side before Tommy had even started to turn away from the bartender. When he did turn, he nearly spilled his drink down the front of Buck’s chest.

“Evan?” Tommy asked, squinting at him. He swayed a bit in place, catching his drink. It was obvious he’d been drinking too. “What? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Buck shot back, anger burning at the back of his throat. “We haven’t even been broken up that long and you’re already flirting with random people?”

“Flirting? What? Are we really doing this now?” Tommy asked.

He took a deep pull on his drink, his eyes on Buck’s the whole time. There was a challenge there that Buck was perfectly willing to answer. He waited until Tommy pulled the drink away from his lips then grabbed it. He turned it until the place Tommy’s lips had been was towards him. Then he covered the place with his own lips, never taking his eyes off Tommy’s. A feral sense of triumph flashed through him when Tommy swallowed.

“Now,” Buck answered, licking over his lips. “C’mon. I didn’t drive and I’m too drunk to drive now anyways. Let me get an Uber.”

He went over and said goodbye to Hen and Karen, gesturing towards Tommy when Hen asked what he was doing. He waved away her trying to argue him into staying. Instead, he said goodbye again and walked away. Tommy followed after, still swaying a little as he kept pace. Buck ordered an Uber and headed outside with Tommy to wait. They were silent, the alcohol making both of them woozy. The jealousy and anger had mostly burned out under the influence of the alcohol.

After the Uber ride, Buck let Tommy into the loft. But seeing his couch, hearing the quiet that filled the place, filled him with an overwhelming exhaustion. He could hear Tommy breathing behind him, deep breaths that sounded like he was fighting to stay awake too. After locking the door and kicking off his shoes, Buck took Tommy’s hand and led him to the couch. They collapsed onto it, Tommy leaning into Buck’s side. His head drooped onto Buck’s shoulder and he yawned. They were silent for a few long heartbeats, settling into something so familiar it almost hurt.

“Can I stay?” Tommy asked, his voice soft and filled with a kind of terrified hope.

“Yeah, yeah, you can stay,” Buck replied.

They settled deeper into the couch, Buck’s hand finding its place at the back of Tommy’s head. Tommy made a noise in his throat and tucked his face deeper in the crook of Buck’s neck. They breathed silently as they absorbed each other’s warmth. Tommy’s hand came to rest on Buck’s leg just above his knee, squeezing slightly as if to ground himself. Instead of the argument Buck had been planning to have, he just held Tommy and breathed him in. They fell asleep, wrapped up in each other.

In the morning, they would discuss the breakup and everything that had led to it. They would lay themselves bare and agree to try again.

~*~*~*~

He’d said yes! Tommy had asked him to marry him and Buck had said yes! They were engaged!

It had happened at trivia night. Tommy had waited until the very last question, fiddling with something in his pocket the entire time. Buck had been a little confused when everyone had shown up to trivia night but happy. Normally, only a few people could make it each time. Everyone had their own schedules and it could be hard to line everything up. But tonight, everyone he loved was here. Buck understood why when the last question flashed up on the projector screen the bar used on trivia nights.

Evan, will you marry me?

Buck had turned to Tommy, mouth open to ask what was going on. He saw Tommy on one knee next to him, a small velvet box in hand. A gold ring nestled inside the box. It glinted in the lights as Tommy held it up to him.

“Evan, I love you so much. You’ve made my life so rich, so full, so wonderful,” Tommy said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t imagine the future without you in it. Will you marry me and spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Yes, yes, I will!” Evan exclaimed after a few moments when he got his voice back. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Tommy. Then he whispered in his ear, “I love you too. I don’t want a future without you in it.”

Cheers filled the bar as they hugged. Then Tommy slipped the ring onto Buck’s finger. After that, their family and other patrons kept buying them celebratory drinks. They drank each one, their hands firmly clasped together on top of the table. Before long, they’d had so many drinks that Bobby and Eddie had to all but pour them into the back of Bobby’s car. Neither knew it but, as soon as the first round was brought over, the group had decided Bobby would be their designated driver. Neither Buck nor Tommy was going to be safe to drive.

As Bobby drove towards Tommy’s house, he kept glancing in the rearview mirror. Buck and Tommy were leaning into each other, whispering every once in a while. They were quiet enough that Bobby couldn’t quite hear them. But the love and adoration was obvious on their faces and in their still-clasped hands. About halfway to Tommy’s house, Buck tucked his head into Tommy’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Tommy continued to murmur something to him, something that sounded rhythmic and lyrical. His free hand rubbed in slow circles over Buck’s knee.

The sight tugged at Bobby’s heart. They were so perfect together, fitting together as if they were made for one another.

At Tommy’s house, he managed to wake them both up enough to get them inside and into the bedroom. He chivvied them into taking their shoes off then waited as they got into bed. Of course, they curled up around each other immediately. Their limbs fit together like interlocked puzzle pieces and it brought a smile to Bobby’s face. He left the room quietly but not for long. He filled two glasses of water and grabbed a bottle of tylenol. He left them on the end table and let himself out.

~*~*~*~

Buck flopped down next to Tommy, breathing heavily. A sheen of sweat coated both their bodies. Tommy swore quietly as he ran a hand over his face, panting just as heavily. Then he wrapped an arm over Buck’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“So, what do you think about being my husband?” Tommy asked when he caught his breath. “Like it so far?”

“I love it,” Buck answered, running a hand over Tommy’s chest to his stomach. “Do you like being my husband?”

“Definitely,” Tommy answered. He put his hand over Buck’s on his stomach and tangled their fingers together. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Buck answered. Then he yawned and snuggled into Tommy’s chest. He could hear Tommy’s heartbeat. “The room’s not bad either. I appreciate the honeymoon suite.”

“Yeah, Eddie wouldn’t hear of anything else when he was helping me book it,” Tommy laughed. “Said we might as well go all out for our honeymoon.”

Buck hummed when Tommy ran a hand down his back. He arched into the touch slightly, humming again when Tommy scraped his nails up his spine. It was too soon for things to turn heated again, if they were going to at all tonight. The day had started at dawn for both of them and had been busy with wedding preparations and the wedding itself. Then Tommy had flown them to a small resort up north for their honeymoon.

Moving their joined hands, Buck traced the lines of muscle in Tommy’s stomach and his chest. The motion was soothing and, now that he’d relaxed and caught hs breath, was threatening to put him to sleep. So was the hand on his back that was slowly traveling up to the back of his head. Tommy’s fingers threaded into his hair and Buck let out a pleased sigh. But the sigh was interrupted by a yawn that cracked his jaw.

“Tired, huh?” Tommy chuckled, scraping his nails on Buck’s scalp.

“Long day. Wonderful but long,” Buck replied, tilting his head up to press a soft kiss to Tommy’s lips. “Round two in the morning?”

“It’s a date,” Tommy promised, stealing a quick kiss. Then he shifted enough to pull the blankets up over both of them. “Sleep now, baby. We got time.”

“The rest of our lives,” Buck nodded sleepily.

He put his head back down on Tommy’s chest and was lulled to sleep by the fingers in his hair and the steady beat of Tommy’s heart. Again, just as he was falling asleep, he heard Tommy murmuring those words that sounded so much like a song. It followed him into sleep, cradled in the arms of his husband.

#bucktommy #tevan #bucktommyfluffebruary #sam rambles #sam writes fic

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yatagarasuarchive · 2 days ago

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I'm not crying... Something got in my eye...

Azusaaaaa!!! I love her so much! She's everything...

(I spent time doing this instead of slerping, but everything is worth it if it's for her.)

Fuyuki and Azusa's relationship is so beautiful. I love the deep level of understanding they shared. To the point where only Azusa truly understood Fuyuki's feelings.

“I already had a marriage proposal going before the Northern Lord approached me—with you. You were my desired wife from the very beginning,”

Bro, didn't you meet her when she was twelve? I know it's not really mentioned how old Yukimasa was at the time, but like... what is wrong with you? Anyway, ultracommon Yukimasa L (does anyone even like this guy?)

By the way, since Azusa was 17 when she became pregnant with Yukima and he is 14 in the main story, I guess we can conclude that in the second book she is 31-32. She's really young for being a mother of three.

“I hate idiots, you see,” Fuyuki proceeded to insult them all with no hesitation.

This part is quite ironic taking into account that she went on to fall in love with Yukimasa, but I guess love is blind (ok, I'll stop bullying him).

“I’m sorry!” As his little brother latched onto Azusa, Yukiya naturally moved back a little. “I tried to come back after a bit, but I couldn’t find the path I had used for the way out.”

“You must have snuck into Lord Yamagami’s garden. Still, you were a good older brother and took care of Yukichi, didn’t you?” Pointedly ignoring the fact that Yukiya had moved back in some form of restraint, Azusa squeezed the boy close. “Thank you.”

The way Yukiya stands back to leave space for his little brother...😭😭 Yukiya, Mother loves you just like your brothers. My poor baby with abandonment issues...

“I’m sorry, Yukiya. Let’s go back.” Yukiya had to endure so much over the years, Azusa realized. She felt so apologetic but, at least, if he was still capable of crying out like that, there was still something to be done about it.

I can't do this anymore... I feel like at this point I'm going to copy-paste the whole story again and read it a third time. And cry again.

Thank you so much for the translation and for allowing us to read this masterpiece. Now I'm going back to my corner to weep a little bit more.

Chapter of the Fireflies: Thoughts of the Barren Tree

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. This is a short story originally written for a japanese magazine and later compiled in one of the Ravens' Hundred Flowers books.

Blog version

For other translations, you can find them HERE

Timeline: Before the start of the series, during Yukiya's childhood

Characters (in order of relevance): Azusa, Fuyuki, Yukimasa, Yukiya, Yukichi, Yukima, Nazukihiko.

Synopsis: Yukiya and Yukichi go missing. As she waits for news on the children, Azusa reminisces about Yukiya's mother, Fuyuki, and the time they spent together.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

It's recommended to read before the excerpts of Golden Raven I just published here, going over some details about Yukiya's childhood, before reading this short story.

Thoughts of the Barren Tree(1)

Taruhi Township Lord's second and third sons had disappeared.

It happened during the early spring, and the crepuscular breeze was still cold. The custom at the Township Lord's Residence was for everyone, from family members to its working officials, to gather to eat together, and Azusa, as the Lord's wife, was in charge of the kitchen. At that moment, she had been in the process of turning a mountain of vegetables into a tofu and white miso salad for dinner.

That is, until her eldest dashed in. He had been out playing until a moment ago.

“Chii(2) and Yukiya are gone!”

Her eldest Yukima, soon to be eleven at the time, was six years older than his youngest brother Yukichi—affectionately nicknamed Chii. Yukichi had been growing more and more independent as of late, which had translated into common fights with his caring eldest brother. He would end up running out of the house and every time, and as if following a script, their reliable middle brother would dutifully go bring him back.

Yukima, however, was desperate. He explained that, this time, they had actually left way before midday. “It's taking them way too long! They didn't even come back for lunch. I've been searching for them, but I can't find them and…… Mother, what should we do?”

A squashed sheath of bamboo peeked out from the edge of her panicking eldest’s kimono—most likely containing rice balls for his brothers.

“It'll be fine. Now, calm down.”

“But!”

“They probably took a nap somewhere and slept through lunch, that’s all. They’ll be hungry, so I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“Your Ladyship,” a woman meekly called out from the back. She must have been listening in on the conversation.

Azusa nodded to her. “But, that said, it is taking them way too long. So, let's get a snack and, if they aren't back by the time we're done, let's all go and search together. Don’t forget to patch things up properly with your brother when he's back, got it?”

She looked her son in the eyes.

“Yes,” Yukima nodded, his uncertainty apparent for everyone to see.

——Yet no matter how long they waited, the two never returned.

“Chii, where are you?”

“Chii, respond if you hear us!”

Azusa and the other women left the Residence first for the search, followed right after by the Township's officials, who joined the efforts as soon as they finished their dinners. Yet no matter how many places they searched, nobody answered their calls.

The Township Lord's Residence was high up in the mountains. There was a village and farms at its base, inhabited by the Township residents, with inns speckled throughout for any travelers traversing the area. Yet, when asked, the residents, who had been working the fields throughout the entire day, all had the same thing to say—they hadn't seen the Lord's sons during the entire day.

Night fell. It was pitch dark.

While it was comfortably warm when the sun was still out, the wind was still as harsh as winter. The cold would sneak down their necks and up their ankles, and the boys had left lightly dressed. Concern for their safety fully settled on everyone’s hearts.

“You should go back home for a bit and eat something,” Azusa’s husband and the Township’s Lord, Yukimasa, called out to her. She had been running around, shouting herself hoarse.

“But, my dear—”

“You know we all ate, but you didn’t have anything at all before leaving, right?”

“I'm fine. In these circumstances? I can go without eating for a while with no problem.”

“You may be alright, sure, but Yukima? Look, he's at his limit.” Yukimasa glanced in Yukima's direction. The boy, too tired to even speak, was following some officials around on the verge of tears. “With how things are looking, it may take a long time to find them. I've sent the other women back already to prepare a midnight snack, so take Yukima and go.”

Once her husband mentioned it, Azusa finally noticed the absence of the household's women. They had been searching with them up until just a moment ago. “...... Fine, I'll take Yukima back. For now.”

She may have backed down, but Azusa was sure that food wouldn’t go past her throat even if she tried. Meanwhile, her eldest, who had insisted on helping until his brothers were found, was unsurprisingly exhausted after an entire day of running around. Using the short break as an excuse, Azusa brought him to the Residence with her. Once there, he curled up instantly, falling asleep right at the entrance.

Azusa left for the kitchen to get someone to watch over him, fully planning to head back out herself afterwards. The moment her hand touched the sliding door to open it, however, she was interrupted by someone's voice on the other side.

“Not Chii, but the middle kid? I'm not surprised he has gotten himself lost like that. What’s the point in searching for him so desperately, anyway? I bet that brat is intentionally hiding away.”

“What do you mean?”

“That he’s probably having the time of his life, watching us run ourselves ragged searching for them. He's one twisted brat, after all,” the voice said. Her distaste for Azusa's son, obvious for anyone who listened in.

“Oh, stop,” another voice reprimanded across the door.

“But it's the truth! He may put on that good boy facade of his in front of His Lordship and the others, but you know what he did the other day? He punched my son.”

“And wasn't that because your son disrespected the Young Lord? He reaped what he sowed,” the other voice retorted back, clearly fed up.

Azusa's heartbeat, however, remained on the rise. She had no idea that her second son—not Yukima or Yukichi, but her second—had been getting into those kinds of fights. It was news to her. He, who was always so calm and gentle, ever mediating his brothers’ squabbles without fail.

The woman, however, had no way of knowing that Azusa was actually listening in on their conversation, and so she kept on babbling and airing out her grudges. “Still! Her Ladyship's children are both such sweet kids, yet that kid is twisted to the core. It must be his mother’s influence, after all. He never apologized after the fight.”

“Shouldn’t you stop already? I mean, let me guess—you talk just like that at home too. No wonder your son ends up getting in trouble with the Lord’s children if that’s what he hears from you.”

“Exactly! It’s just payback at that point. No helping with that.”

Despite the others’ following airy laugh, the irritated voice remained unrelenting. “Still, why are Her Ladyship and His Lordship even willing to raise that brat themselves? I truly can't understand them. They should just send him to the Center and be done with the whole thing, everyone would come out winning. Lady Fuyuki must resent this too, I’m sure.”

——Azusa couldn't take it any longer.

She used all her strength to suddenly open the door. The startled women, who indeed hadn't realized her presence until then, fell silent immediately. “Your Ladyship.”

Panic was written all over the face of the woman who had been badmouthing her son just a moment ago. She knew the gravity of her mistake, and while Azusa knew she had to say something—both for her and her children's sake—she couldn’t. This indescribable feeling, this mix of anger and sadness, filled her and, by the time she finally spoke, it was about a different matter altogether.

“...... Yukima is sleeping out there. I'll be going out, so keep an eye on him,” Azusa quickly ordered them. She turned on her heels.

“Lady Azusa,” she heard a flustered voice call her from behind, but she didn’t have it in her to answer. To give them her attention any longer.

The Lord's second son—Yukiya. Azusa had raised him fully intending to give him equal treatment to Yukima and Yukichi. His now-deceased mother had been a princess of the High Nobility. One Azusa had personally served once upon a time.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

They met about twenty years ago, back when Azusa was seven and Fuyuki thirteen. Fuyuki was the second princess of one of the Four Houses that formed the High Nobility, the one governing over the Northern territories. Her body had been weak from birth, however, and she was rumored to not have a long life to live.

Azusa’s father belonged to a family that had long served the Northern House. Her mother, on the other hand, came from a mid-ranking noble family affiliated not with the North, but the East. Azusa had grown up at her mother’s Residence in the Center, so she hadn’t had any chances to meet Fuyuki, who remained ever cloistered in the North’s Main Residence, face to face until then.

The chance to meet came during the New Year’s Greetings, as Azusa had been brought there by her family and Fuyuki had just so happened to be in good health that day.

“So, you're Azusa,” Fuyuki said as she sat on her bed and leaned on an armrest.

Her features themselves were unremarkable, hard to commit to memory. Her looks came from her father, but she lacked the confident aura granted by the man's strong body and magnanimity—her limbs and neck were abnormally thin, and her expression gloomy. The sound of labored, painful breaths came incessantly from her slightly opened lips and her soft-looking locks remained in a permanent bedhead, plastered to her pale cheeks.

Once the exchange of formalities was over, Fuyuki immediately took her chance to question Azusa. “Hey, tell me, do you think my elder sister will succeed in becoming His Highness Wakamiya’s wife?”

At the time, Mutsu no Hana, Fuyuki's older sister and the first princess of the North, was rumored as a candidate for the Crown Prince's legal wife. Apparently, it wasn't the first time Fuyuki had asked others this question, but everyone else had just answered with an ‘of course, your elder sister will undoubtedly be chosen’.

After some deep consideration, Azusa, on the other hand, said the following, “At my residence in the Center, everyone from the East is certain that the Eastern princess will be chosen. And I’m sure the Western people must think the same for their princess, that she'll be the one. So, to tell the truth, I can't tell how it’ll turn out.”

The second Fuyuki heard her words, she gave her a satisfied smile. One followed right after by an order. “I like you. Be my servant from now on.”

It completely came out of the blue for Azusa and her family, but the prestige of the offer was beyond question. The Northern Lord and Lady were keen on the idea as well, which led to the final decision to make Azusa Fuyuki's handmaiden surprisingly easy.

Still, Fuyuki's reputation, according to hearsay, wasn't what one would call good. The rumors talked about how inconsiderate and mean-spirited she was towards those under her. When people heard Azusa was going to become her handmaiden, they would tell her stories about ‘how she kicked out anyone the very second they offended her’. Half as a warning, half to scare her off.

However, Fuyuki proved to be startlingly kind and friendly to Azusa once she got the chance to actually spend time with her. Still, even Azusa couldn't deny the fact that her reputation was, in part, well-deserved. Azusa once asked Fuyuki why she chose her of all people, when so many would love to serve a Northern princess like her.

“I hate idiots, you see,” Fuyuki proceeded to insult them all with no hesitation. The look in her eyes was unlike anything she usually showed to Azusa—cold, as if her eyes had frozen over, covered by winter’s ice. “The person those girls want to serve is the Main House's frail, pitiable little princess, not me. They won't ever act against my will, yes, but they won't ever sincerely speak their minds to me either. They’re all the kind of people that would gladly call a deer a horse(3) if you tell them so. There’s no worthwhile conversation to be had with them.”

Not even a hint of warmth could be felt in her voice. “I’m not going to live that long, so I'd rather spend my short time here with people I actually like and enjoy myself while it lasts. I flat out refuse to waste my precious life with a bunch of thoughtless idiots.”

——Azusa could feel the characteristic arrogance of the High Nobility dripping from every one of Fuyuki’s nonchalant words.

Fuyuki enjoyed reading to a degree that far surpassed what was expected of a princess of the nobility, and was particularly adept at board games. She would remember the contents of any book word for word after merely reading it once and stayed undefeated in all kinds of games—from Shogi, Go and dice games(4) to the Board Drills employed by warriors to learn war strategy. Azusa hadn't seen anyone beat Fuyuki even once in any of them.

Active military officials and Imperial Court officers would come over to visit from time to time and would challenge her while they were at it—they all came to share the same unanimous opinion about the princess’ strength.

While most believed that they intentionally lost against her in an attempt to curry favor with the Northern House without ever questioning that idea, Azusa had actually seen most of these men—who would go around bragging behind Fuyuki's back about how they ‘went easy on her’—drenched in cold sweat as they faced her on the board.

On the other hand, many other visitors would bring stories from the Center with them. Fuyuki was a woman of relatively few words but, thanks to that, they often carried a level of insight that completely escaped Azusa.

“The North is bad at politics, you know. They believe that getting a marriage with the Imperial Family will be enough by itself to bring the house prosperity—truly a hopeless bunch. The way our military excels, it would be easy for us to take over the Imperial Family’s position if we ever wanted to. But no, they would rather go and take a woman from the Red-Light District as the legal wife.”

The topic was her own parents, yet Fuyuki spoke as if it were somebody else's business altogether. “Did you know? Our accursed relatives wouldn't shut up, insisting that if we produced a princess beautiful enough, we could manage to marry her to the Imperial Family, so my father took my mother, the best prostitute at the Center's Red-Light District, as his legal wife. But it’s not like the ones in power out there are going to care about a princess’ face or personality…… Yet father, mother, my older brother and sister all pity me for being unable to join their silly games of playing house with our idiotic relatives. It's so stupid,” Fuyuki spat out.

It was true that Fuyuki's parents and siblings failed to genuinely understand her and her feelings. They would shower her in hina dolls and hairpins she wouldn't ever use, so it was obvious they didn't even have a basic grasp on her preferences and tastes. On the other hand, they would secretly call Azusa often, all to ask her just what kind of present Fuyuki would actually like.

Azusa didn't truly believe Fuyuki's parents were as indifferent to her as she herself thought, but Fuyuki had given up on all hope regarding her family.

“If only I had been a man—or at least had a body strong enough to give up my status as a woman, live as a man and become an official, I would have been capable of raising this Northern House to the very top of Yamauchi.”

By chance, some maidservants heard her lament and grimaced. Their thoughts—that she was dreaming about something beyond her—all over their faces. But Azusa believed that it wasn't necessarily some pipe dream. That, for Fuyuki, dominating the entire Imperial Court could have actually been possible in the right circumstances.

Fuyuki was a woman overflowing with talent, so having a body that wouldn't let her make use of it had to be vexing indeed. She was terribly intelligent, regardless of her environment's refusal to admit it, and, precisely because of that, also very lonely.

“...... It’s not like this body of mine can be expected to carry a child to term anyway. I’m sure I'll spend my entire life stuck here, achieving nothing, just to then die alone.” A whisper full of resignation. A few guests had left right before that—they had been gushing about how her older sister would surely marry into the Imperial Family.

How did the world look from that tiny window of hers? Surrounded by beautiful kimonos and rare souvenirs from the Center, with her mountains of books at odds with everything else in the room.

Azusa was one of the precious few who ever understood the gloomy Fuyuki and, over time, that gave her a sense of pride. To know this woman who was cold like ice even towards her own parents and siblings, yet proved to be incredibly thoughtful and caring for the innocent and those she came to trust even once.

She would laugh ever so quietly whenever a cat got lost inside or a baby was carried there for a visit. It reminded Azusa of the breeze in early spring, and she loved the gesture above anything else.

Fuyuki was, unquestionably, a twisted woman and hard to deal with—but there was more to her than that. At the time, Azusa had been desperate to be the first to break through the many barriers Fuyuki put around herself to keep everyone at bay. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed by Fuyuki either, who would watch over her attempts as she would watch a kitten trying to climb up her lap, claws latching onto the train of her kimono.

Their days were always the same, yet warm and peaceful—or so Azusa thought.

——An opportunity for change arrived. Fuyuki was eighteen, and Azusa twelve.

Fuyuki's older brother, Genki, had gone on a visit to the Center and brought back some friends he had met there to the Northern Region. Soon, they proved to be a hopelessly irritating bunch.

“Oh, poor princess! To only be capable of remaining cloistered here.”

“The Center is such a good place! We’ll tell you all about it.”

And so, these men forced them both to listen to their incessant rambles about how their families had made a fortune in the Center and how luxurious and glorious their life was. All while paying no mind to Fuyuki and Azusa's actual reactions in the slightest.

While Fuyuki kept a sour silence, Azusa tried to, in a long-winded manner, redirect the conversation towards the Center's politics in Fuyuki’s place, but it was to no avail. One of them immediately redirected the conversation back to a summer design made by a clothes shop he patronized.

“...… What's the point of flashy clothes if the person wearing them is of no substance?” Fuyuki finally offered them a backhanded question from across the bamboo curtains, but it didn't stop them even for a second. It was admirable. In a way.

“Truly so, truly so, it's just as you say! But appearances are very important in order to be recognized as a noble in the Center, you see.” They even further added, “The girls in the Center apply themselves to matters of fashion too and have quite the discerning eye for it. To be fashionable is a struggle. But, of course, these matters of mundane life have nothing to do with someone like you, Lady Fuyuki. I envy the purity of heart you possess.”

They somehow managed to put an end to the conversation afterwards and chase them away, but the mere thought of their stay at the Residence made Azusa miserable.

“Don't ever approach them again.”

“No worries, I don't want to deal with them either.”

Although they all had connections to the Northern House, their base of operations was in the Center. It was everyone’s first time coming to the North itself, so Azusa had thought that maybe they would go on a trip far away and, hopefully, they wouldn't come over again. Alas, she was too naive.

From the following day onwards, instead of visiting the region and despite coming all the way to the countryside, they got a ball and chose to spend their time playing kemari(5), arguing it was a ‘popular pastime among Center Nobles’.

“They're truly stupid!”

“Very much so.”

Carefree, incessant laughter could be heard from the garden facing Fuyuki's room.

“They should just return home already if this is how they’re going to spend their time,” Azusa argued but, just as she did so, someone's alarmed voice interrupted them.

“Careful!”

Wondering what was going on, they turned to its direction. That very second, something big flew through the bamboo curtains, ripping them off, and into the room. They both screamed as it bounced off the wall, knocked a mirror sitting on the nearby cupboard to the floor and bounced away. Not knowing what had happened just yet, Azusa stood there, frozen. Before even realizing it, she and Fuyuki had come to cling to each other.

——A white kemari ball noisily rolled on the floor, still covered in traces of being kicked around.

Still stunned, they saw a panicking face peek through the now curtainless handrails. “Are you alright!?”

A young, tanned man with sharp features appeared among the light. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, yet his eyebrows were so well-shaped they looked as if drawn on along with a bright gaze that denoted honesty. He was strongly built, the well-defined muscles of his upper arms visible thanks to the rolled up sleeves.

The moment Azusa came back to herself, she stood in front of Fuyuki to protect her. That done, she yelled, “Who do you think you are in front of!? Stand back!”

The young man's eyes widened for a second and, having perhaps realized who he was in front of, his face lost all color and he prostrated right in place. “Forgive the discourtesy, my lady.”

That matter solved, Azusa, worried about Fuyuki, turned around in a fluster to check on her.

“Lady Fuyuki, Lady Fuyuki! Are you alright?” Azusa's master was stuck in place, looking as if her soul had left its mortal coil. She watched the young man kneeling on the ground intently. “Lady Fuyuki?”

Azusa, concerned, called out her name, and Fuyuki seemed to return to her senses. “Ah, yes, I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine.”

“That's a relief,” Azusa let out a sigh and only then faced the young man with a fierce look in her eyes. “May I know what happened there?”

“I have no excuse to give, my most sincere apologies. I, well, kicked the ball and then…”

Azusa took a better look behind him. The Center noblemen were there, cowering further away in the garden as they watched. With the matter of the previous day's discourtesy added to it, Azusa couldn't take it any longer. “I'll be informing His Lordship of this. You'll get—”

“Wait, Azusa,” Fuyuki intervened before Azusa could finish speaking. “It's true that they made a mess of the curtains, but nobody got hurt and the mirror didn't break. Let's end this amicably.” Her voice was feeble, completely unlike her usual self. Still disconcerted by Fuyuki's behavior, who was completely shrunken in on herself, Azusa begrudgingly backed off.

“If you say so, Lady Fuyuki……” She could hear the young man breathe a sigh of relief. “Lady Fuyuki may have forgiven you, but that doesn't change the fact that you committed a terrible discourtesy. We'll consider the matter settled, but better make sure that there won’t be a second time.”

“Yes, of course,” the young man nodded earnestly.

Then, Azusa suddenly noticed something. Now that she was looking at his face, there was something different about him compared to the pale-faced bunch she had met just the other day. “You aren't from the Center, right? Who are you and from where?”

“Sorry for the late introduction. I'm Yukimasa of Taruhi, the eldest son of the Taruhi Township Lord. I came here today accompanying my father. I then received an invitation to play with them and—”

“Lord Yukimasa……” An absentminded voice muttered, much to Azusa's astonishment once she ascertained the source. It was Fuyuki, her cheeks flushed red as she wore an expression Azusa hadn't seen on her ever before.

That very evening, when the sun had set and it was already dark outside:

“Lady Azusa.”

She had been taking away Fuyuki’s tea set, walking through the hallway, when, much to her surprise, someone called her from the garden. “You're the one from today.”

“Yes, I'm sorry for what happened. I'm Yukimasa of Taruhi.”

“So, what brings you here this time?”

“I came to apologize all over again. Uhm, I'm not sure if this would qualify as a fitting gift, but here.” He bashfully offered her the present in question, which troubled Azusa as she tried to figure out how to respond.

——What should she say in this situation?

While Azusa was tempted to lean into her own irritation and tell him she never wanted to see him again, she ultimately restrained herself out of consideration for Fuyuki. “...... Aren't you the eldest son of Taruhi Township? What are you doing, coming here secretly from the garden?”

“Oh, true! My apologies. What a blunder.”

“Come over again, properly this time. I'll let you pass to meet Lady Fuyuki.”

Fuyuki hadn't spoken a word since the day's events, but once Azusa told her Yukimasa was going to come over, she let out a tiny gasp. She looked like a young girl all over again as she clung to Azusa. “What shall I do, Azusa? There’s nothing weird with what I’m wearing, right?”

Fuyuki’s hair was soft-looking, but prone to frizzing and curling. Azusa smiled wryly as she saw Fuyuki smoothing her hair down in a panic, and took a comb to slightly fix it.

“It'll be fine. Besides, he's coming over to apologize, just act with confidence and it'll all work out, Lady Fuyuki.” Azusa had thought the news would make Fuyuki happy, but she never expected her to get so flustered.

A while later, Yukimasa came for a visit. He knelt at the other side of the bamboo curtains, bowing his head. “Allow me to apologize again for what happened today. It was my mistake and I’m terribly sorry for it.”

“That’s enough,” Fuyuki replied with a voice so soft it was barely audible.

It looked like her lady would be incapable of speaking any further herself, so Azusa casually intervened to help. “Still, why was there a need to hit the ball with such strength? Was that your first time playing kemari, Lord Yukimasa?”

“No, that's not what happened. They were treating me like some ignorant country bumpkin, saying they would teach me some techniques from the Center and it really annoyed me, so…….”

He seemed too deeply ashamed of himself to go on, but it was still enough to get the gist of what had happened between them. Azusa could understand well how he had felt, so her attitude softened a little. “You have my condolences for that.”

“I'm deeply sorry for causing you princesses such inconvenience. It may not be enough of an apology, but please take this offering.” As he finished speaking, Yukimasa retrieved something from behind him. Fuyuki gasped at the sight.

A light flickered within the soft darkness of the room, as if it was slowly breathing. It was fainter than your usual fatuous fire lamp(6), and its color was more vivid. Yukimasa’s apology gift took the form of a stick-shaped something, shining with a beautiful green light.

“What's that?”

“A firefly.”

“I'm aware there's a firefly inside, but…… what's it trapped inside of? A plant?”

“You may not be familiar with it, princess, but it's a green onion head.”

“A green onion head!” Fuyuki opened her eyes in surprise. Such a silly, inappropriate name for something so beautiful. “I have seen people use bellflowers(7) before, but to use green onions……” Incapable of restraining herself any longer, Fuyuki started to laugh. “I've seen something good today. It's truly charming and wonderful, but I've already enjoyed myself enough. Please, let the firefly go.”

“As you wish.” Yukimasa took off the plug that kept the firefly from escaping. It wriggled for a moment before taking off, fluttering out of the room as if swept up by a breeze.

Fuyuki's expression as she watched Yukimasa depart left an impression on Azusa. She had never seen that on her before. To think she could make a face like that—It was refreshing. Azusa may have felt slightly left behind and lonely, but that didn’t worry her in the slightest. Not when her chest felt so unbearably tight.

——What a lovely person Fuyuki actually was.

Taken by a genuine desire to do something to help, Azusa went to visit the Northern Lord and his wife to inform them herself: ‘Lady Fuyuki has someone she likes’.

The marriage arrangement itself proceeded very smoothly.

The Northern Lord had been quite enthusiastic about the idea once he learned his daughter had fallen in love with the man at first sight, and Taruhi's Township Lord, who had been wanting to retire, was quite enthused too with the support they could gain from the Northern House if his son married Fuyuki.

“Thank you, Azusa. I got this because of you.”

Fuyuki had been the very picture of happiness and beauty before departing for Taruhi, and Azusa's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “Please, be happy, Lady Fuyuki.”

Azusa couldn’t follow Fuyuki to Taruhi as one of her maids due to the terms set for the marriage. As a result, while Fuyuki became Yukimasa's legal wife and moved to Taruhi, Azusa went on to work in the Center.

‘It’s you, I’m sure you’ll find a marriage partner soon enough.’ Those had been Fuyuki’s words before departing, but reality proved to be the opposite—Azusa wasn't blessed with many proposals, if any at all.

Time passed. Much like Fuyuki once predicted, in the end, her older sister didn't get to marry into the Imperial Family and instead joined a noble family affiliated with the North. Genki’s son was born as well, and so it became Azusa’s job to take care of the children at the North's Center Residence.

Then, all of a sudden, the Northern Lady came to her with an unbelievable proposal.

“——You want me to become a concubine for Taruhi's Lord?”

Five long years had passed since Fuyuki married and left for Taruhi. Fuyuki and she had stayed in contact, sending letters back and forth from time to time ever since, but she had stopped answering a short while ago. At the time, Azusa had been fearing that Fuyuki's condition had worsened significantly.

Oryou no Kata, Fuyuki’s birth mother and the Northern Lord's legal wife, pressed Azusa with a solemn look in her eyes. “Fuyuki is faced with a great dilemma back in Taruhi. Taruhi's Township Lord remains childless even now and it fills her with shame to know it is her fault.”

The Northern Lord himself spoke right after, “Please, can't you consider accepting? As those who made the arrangement in the first place, we feel just as responsible for the situation as her. Besides, Fuyuki herself has said that if a concubine is necessary, she would at least want her to be you.”

“Has Lady Fuyuki truly said that?”

“Yes, that she did.”

To tell the truth, it was a request from the Northern Lord. It wasn't like Azusa had a choice to begin with.

——However, something felt off about it.

Fuyuki had been deeply, wholeheartedly in love with Yukimasa. Would she ever truly suggest her husband take a concubine? And yet, Fuyuki was also a terribly intelligent woman. For her to worry about Taruhi Township and consider the problems a lack of heirs could bring—no matter how painful it could be to do so—and choose Azusa as the concubine wasn't an absurd idea either.

Azusa sent her yet another letter, but no reply ever came back.

She was then summoned to the Northern House’s Main Residence, and so left the Center. There, Yukimasa finally came to visit her personally. The young Lord of Taruhi was completely earnest with her.

“Fuyuki's position in Taruhi is a difficult one because of the lack of heirs. I've been somehow protecting her up to now, but the anxiety of it all seems to be affecting her health as of late. To be honest, Fuyuki isn't even in a condition to take care of the house's affairs. Couldn't you become my concubine just to help her? Even if you’re to be a mere concubine, I'll treasure you as much as Fuyuki.”

“Could I first meet Fuyuki at least?”

“That may be difficult, sadly her condition is bad right now. But I'm sure that, if you were to agree, her depression will soon fade away and you'll be able to meet in the near future.”

And so, partly moved by Yukimasa's plea, Azusa became his wife. They had to build new chambers for her in Taruhi Township, so Azusa was told to stay at the Northern House's Main Residence but, just as he had first promised, Yukimasa visited her with fervor. Soon after, Azusa became pregnant with astonishing ease.

The Northern Lord and his wife were as overjoyed as if she were their own daughter.

“Fuyuki is overjoyed with the news too!” Oryou no Kata said to her.

“Is that truly so……?” Azusa was worried. She hadn't gotten even one single chance to talk with Fuyuki since she had arrived back in the North. She patted her own belly, the swelling still imperceptible.

Oryou no Kata, however, dismissed her concerns with a merry laugh. “Of course she's happy! Her health may not be good at the moment, but how about visiting her after the child's birth?”

To give a boy a name that included an animal’s kanji was said to help them grow up healthy, so once her son was born several months later, they named him after the temples’ sacred horses—Yukima(8). Azusa still remained at the Northern House's Main Residence at that point and that’s where she began to raise her first child. Yukimasa would fervently visit them both and the Northern House had even prepared broodmaids(9) for her, so it was very much a manageable effort.

The biggest source of trouble came after Yukima finally first took human form—he would cry constantly during the night. Azusa was left seeking whatever rest she could get whenever he stopped. She had been napping one day, lying down by Yukima's side, when a noise woke her up. It wasn’t the usual bawling—there was quite a ruckus outside. “What’s going on?”

“Lady Azusa, you must stay here!” A maid with a stern look stopped her, but Azusa could still hear a woman's high-pitched voice and the sounds intertwined with it—painful-sounding coughs.

“It can't be! Is Lady Fuyuki here?”

Just as Azusa took to the hallway with her son in her arms, however, Oryou no Kata appeared on her way to Azusa's room. Once again, she was stopped from going any further. “Azusa, please, leave this to us.”

“But!”

“It's fine. This is an order, go back to your room,” Oryou no Kata declared with the same resolute attitude. The woman left her behind and went outside as the maids pressed Azusa to return, but Azusa remained stuck in place.

“You traitor! I won't ever, ever forgive you!”

——Her legs wouldn't move. She was shaken by the other's incredible anger.

There was no doubt about it. That was Fuyuki's voice.

“What's the problem? Why the ruckus?” Oryou no Kata said all fed up, as if she were persevering through a chat with an unreasonable, irrational child. “Calm down and listen to me well. Don't you see, Fuyuki? This all happened because of your negligence. It should have been you who suggested your husband get a concubine in the first place. If you can't fulfill the bare minimum of your job as a Township Lord's wife, what option do you have left but to make someone else do it in your place?”

Faced by her apparently troubled mother, Fuyuki let out a cry so pained she may as well have puked blood, “Don't you screw with me! Then you shouldn't have given me away in freaking marriage to begin with!”

“That and this are different matters altogether. We did it because we care about you. We wanted you to get the chance to become a good wife in Taruhi, and you wasted our well intentioned efforts. On top of that, doing something as irrational as not accepting any concubines is absolutely inadmissible.”

“What do you mean by irrational? What do you mean you did it because you cared about me? It’s because of my reputation, isn’t it? Everyone, everyone just treats me like an idiot…… I'm not your freaking doll!”

Azusa's arms trembled, Yukima still cradled within them. She wanted to explain herself, to talk with her; but Fuyuki's thus far unheard screams of anger terrified her. She was incapable of moving, no matter how much she tried.

“I won't forgive you. I won't, not even after my death. No matter what!” Fuyuki yelled again. Then, Azusa heard as her coughing fits got significantly worse and the sound of her voice was unwillingly cut short. Her anger had been so great that, from the sound of it, the blood had rushed to her head and made her lose consciousness.

Oryou no Kata ordered the maidservants to carry Fuyuki to a separate building. Only then, she noticed the paralyzed Azusa. A wry smile appeared on her lips. “She's such a troubled woman. To be so selfish, only thinking about herself after all this time…… though I guess it's also my fault for indulging and coddling her…… That's why I, as her mother, said what was her duty to say in her place.”

Oryou no Kata sighed to herself.

“—It was all a lie, wasn't it? That Lady Fuyuki wanted me to become a concubine.”

Oryou no Kata didn't answer that. “You may think me cruel, but there was no alternative. Not considering her position.”

Azusa had once heard that Oryou no Kata, being an ex-prostitute, had struggled immensely back when she first came to the North. People had recognized her as part of the nobility—as a person—only after she finally gave birth to two daughters and a male heir.

Fuyuki already had a bad reputation among the maids as things stood. In order to be recognized as a nobleman's wife, there were two requisites—to act as the leader and head of the women under her service and in doing so manage the household, and to give birth to an heir. It wasn't odd for Oryou no Kata to believe that her daughter couldn’t afford to be selfish when she was failing at both.

But—was it truly parental love? Was it sympathy born of the similarity of her daughter's circumstances with her own struggles during the early days of her marriage?

No, it couldn't be either of those. Azusa was sure of that much.

“She already got the biggest fortune of them all—to share a life with the man she loves. What else could she possibly even want?” Oryou no Kata quietly wondered. Perhaps that’s it, Azusa, her mind still numb, thought to herself. Perhaps she had deeply loved once, the target someone different from the Northern Lord. “Azusa, you don't have to worry about any of this. Just focus on raising Yukima into a good man. Understood?”

Oryou no Kata’s words were full of fondness, yet Azusa couldn't bring herself to answer. Her arms just tightened around the now crying Yukima.

“Why did you lie to me?” Azusa pressed Yukimasa for answers, finally pushing him to the point where he blurted out his true feelings.

“I haven’t ever once wished to have that as my wife.”

“What……?”

“I already had a marriage proposal going before the Northern Lord approached me—with you. You were my desired wife from the very beginning,” Yukimasa explained with a strained voice. “But then Fuyuki interfered. I rejected her at first, told them I wanted you again and again. Did you think I found it all a timely offer because I was in the middle of the Township inheritance problems? I wanted to be recognized out of my own effort. I had no interest in using my wife's status to do so. I refused, but how could I stick with that when the Northern Lord himself went as far as to bow his head to me?”

‘My daughter doesn't have long to live, so please, at least give her this’. Those were, apparently, the Northern Lord's words back then. “In exchange, he promised that, when the time came, he would recommend you as my wife without fail.”

Azusa trembled. She remembered how her marriage proposals had abruptly died down. “You——Did you truly, genuinely think I would be glad to hear that?”

Yukimasa recoiled for a second, but it wasn't enough for him to take back his words. “...... You should have been my wife from the start. Besides, deep in her heart, Fuyuki looks down on me as well. She went as far as to berate me, saying I used her to prosper in life. Just how much does that princess have to ridicule me before it's enough!?”

“That's wrong, that's not what's happening!” Awkward and tactless as it may be, Azusa had no doubt Fuyuki had acted out in devotion.

“Whatever. The one I loved from the very beginning was you, not Fuyuki.”

——Fuyuki was an intelligent woman.

She must have noticed Yukimasa's actual feelings, Azusa was sure. Just how vexing it must have been for her, how much she must have resented everything. Everyone, every single one of them, talked on and on, insisting they acted for Fuyuki's sake, yet, in the end, none of them ever understood how Fuyuki felt, not even once—less so felt any shame for that.

Azusa almost asked, ‘then what about Fuyuki's feelings?’, but she couldn't do it. Aghast, she was faced with the fact that the main culprit of it all—the one who stomped all over Fuyuki’s heart—was none other than herself.

Afterwards, Azusa heard that Fuyuki flew into a rage once she was brought back to Taruhi. ‘I don't mind if I die, I want a son of my own even if that takes my life.’

Nobody could stop her.

Even her parents’ attempts to restrain her and Yukimasa persuading her proved completely meaningless. The rumors went as far as to say that, in the end, she had put a knife to her own neck and virtually threatened Yukimasa into sharing a bed with her. The only one to know the truth of the matter, however, was Yukimasa, who would only grimace whenever her name came up.

Time passed and, with one single egg, Fuyuki’s body reached its limit. Nobody blamed Yukimasa for it, not even the Northern Lord. A broodmaid incubated the egg, from which a boy hatched out—and so the second son of Taruhi’s Township Lord, Yukiya, was born.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

“Don't worry so much, Azusa. Everyone is searching for them. We'll find both Yukichi and Yukiya soon enough.” Yukimasa said in a light tone. He must have decided to attempt to calm down his wife, who had just returned to their Residence with tottering steps. “Still, given the situation, it may well truly be Yukiya running away from home. It does sound like something he would do, doesn’t it?”

It was said in jest but, given the circumstances, it proved to have the polar opposite effect.

“Why are you so cold to Yukiya!? Don't you care about him?” Azusa asked as she was about to cry. Yukimasa opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“Don't say that! Yukiya is my son too, of course, isn't it a given that I care about him? But, well, from time to time, he has this look in his eyes—he may be my own son, but I can't figure out what he's thinking……” As her husband stuttered, Azusa was struck by a realization.

——What had Yukimasa so scared was Fuyuki.

Yukiya greatly resembled her, both in appearance and intelligence. He could surely feel how his father and the women thought about him. After all, Yukima and Yukichi didn't ever have that look Yukiya sometimes had in his eyes—as if he was testing people out.

Back when Yukiya was still barely two years old, they had been faced with a choice—whether they should adopt him out to the Northern House, or raise him themselves. Everyone loudly insisted to them—’don’t you feel sorry about Fuyuki's death? He’ll be left in such an awkward position if he stays with his stepmother. Wouldn't it be better for everyone involved to give him up as soon as possible?’ Sweet, sweet temptation.

Yet, in the end, Azusa rejected the offer accompanying their honeyed words. Those who wished to adopt Yukiya were, ultimately, all just interested in his status and his status alone. Azusa couldn't let Yukiya go, not once she heard Yukiya call her ‘mother’ and less so once she remembered those people's past behavior, which she witnessed when she was still serving Fuyuki.

Back then, she chose to raise Yukiya as her own son. She believed she had so far kept to that resolution, and didn't ever regret her choice.

But, had that truly been the best for Yukiya?

——Was she actually fit for the role of his mother?

“Lady Azusa.”

Azusa had walked away from Yukimasa, incapable of handling it anymore, when one of the women from before called out to her. She was the wife of one of the Township officials and had once been one of Fuyuki's maids, sent over to Taruhi from the Northern House’s Main Residence.

“Uhm, well, you see, there's something I've never been able to share with you, Lady Azusa. It's, well, about Lady Fuyuki……”

“About Lady Fuyuki?”

After a short moment of hesitation, the woman gathered her resolve and nodded.

She had wanted to talk about that time when, after hearing the rumors about Azusa giving birth to a child, Fuyuki had forced her way to the Northern House's Main Residence. The woman confessed that, before Fuyuki’s meeting with Oryou no Kata, she had first visited Azusa's chambers.

“But you were asleep, Lazy Azusa…… and the Young Lord—Yukima was there, resting by your side as well.”

The woman had been fretting at the time, worrying whether Fuyuki would hurt Yukima. However, that couldn't be further from the truth of what happened. “The Lady, she held Yukima in her arms—and she smiled.”

“......What did you just say?”

“She smiled. Lady Fuyuki smiled,” the woman repeated, her own disbelief all over her face. “It was such a gentle, soft smile too. I hadn't ever seen her make such a face before.”

Apparently, Fuyuki didn't say anything after that. She remained deep in thought for quite a while and then went through the trouble of exiting the Main Residence and returning through the main door. That’s when she started that commotion. “I don't know what she was thinking when she did that. She was so mean to us, so I do believe she may have actually intended to give you a piece of her mind. But, at the very least, I don't think she was genuinely angry……”

Fuyuki, who flew into a rage after giving Yukima such a sweet smile. Having been a witness to such a radical change, the woman had never really been quite convinced by Fuyuki's apparent rage.

“Whenever someone bad-mouths her, I can't help but to remember that one smile…… I can't understand it.” The woman looked up at Azusa. “I wonder, Lady Azusa—why did she smile like that back then?”

The trees on the slope found at the back of the Residence had just begun to sprout leaves and still remained a grim spectacle. The pale moon peeked through their naked branches, spread out like arms through the sky. It was through them that Azusa walked alone, deep in thought.

Was Fuyuki truly the kind of woman who would waste her own life out of anger and jealousy? The kind to do something that would bring happiness to nobody?

She had been a twisted person—to say she had a good personality would be quite the lie. That said, no matter what situation she found herself in, she had proven herself to be cool-headed. She wasn't the kind of woman to act over something she felt in the heat of the moment, to let herself be thrown into despair just like that. It all must have all been, in her own way, calculated.

Maybe——she simply wanted a child of her own?

Perhaps she had indeed been seething with anger at first, but it vanished the moment she saw Yukima. Fuyuki had been the kind to glare coldly whenever the maids were noisy, yet show not even the slightest disgust towards a bawling, inconsolable infant. She liked children—or so Azusa believed. In fact, thinking back, Azusa being six years younger had perhaps played a part in why Fuyuki had been so terribly kind to her.

However, it was clear that if she had asked for a child of her own in a normal manner, everyone would have opposed the idea. Fuyuki had surely long accepted the fact that Yukimasa didn't like her and figured out that he would listen to the Northern House's opinion on the matter. In short, he would never put Fuyuki's health at risk.

Hence, she pretended to be furious.

She flew into a fake rage, claiming that she would kill herself if they didn't let her do it. In doing so, she forced those around her to give in—left them with no alternative. She had to be fully aware that it would murder her reputation and would cause no small amount of trouble afterwards.

She must have wanted that child terribly.

It may be conceited of Azusa to think so, but maybe, just maybe, Fuyuki did so because it was Azusa who took the position of concubine. After all, Fuyuki hated her noble relatives. She would never willingly entrust her precious son to them and it had been on Azusa as Yukimasa’s wife to choose if she wanted to raise Yukiya herself or not.

That there was an element of payback to it was clear. Azusa didn't doubt for a second that Fuyuki had been furious but, if her own predictions were accurate and she wanted a child more than anything, Fuyuki wouldn't ever do anything as stupid as letting such petty feelings get in her way. To ruin everything.

Fuyuki was cool-headed, twisted and mean-spirited, yet she was—more than anything else—a deeply, deeply loving woman. She must have loved her son and trusted Azusa.

——‘If it's Azusa, she'll surely treat my child right, right?’

It had taken her quite a long time, but Azusa felt like she had finally gotten to hear Fuyuki’s true feelings.

‘Please, take good care of my child.’

“Yes, that's true, Lady Fuyuki. He's our son,” Azusa said out loud as she walked on. “That's why, please, Lady Fuyuki, please protect Yukiya and Yukichi. Bring them back home safe and sound.”

Just after she said that, Azusa felt the trees sway. There was, however, no wind anywhere. The hazy moon among the treetops softly twisted as if in response to the strangeness. A second later, its pale, blurred edges became sharper and its light brighter. A dark shadow was floating right there, its back against the massive full moon.

Azusa focused her sight on it for a while. She gulped.

——The shadow was, in truth, an unbelievably large bird.

She had never seen one as gigantic before—not even at the Northern House's Main Residence, where the most renowned horses of the country all gathered. She was busy trying to determine whether it could even be considered the same race as her, when she noticed it was coming in her direction, slowly approaching the Residence.

It landed with ease in front of the petrified Azusa. The wind raised by its flapping winds made her hair dance in the air. After watching it up close, Azusa could confirm that it actually was an incredibly large crow, easily about three times larger than your average Yatagarasu. Its beak was the color of black steel and very sharp.

She should have been terrified at the sight, yet, strangely enough, she wasn’t.

It looked at Azusa with sparkly crystal-like eyes, its feathers so glossy they shone in purples and lapis lazuli blue even under the faint moonlight. Even putting its size aside, there was something different about it—the atmosphere enveloping it was just different from your average Yatagarasu.

Azusa was looking up in astonishment when, moments later, she noticed the crow was holding something in its beak. What could it be?

——It looked like a basket.

Just as she realized that much, the giant crow gently placed the item on the ground.

“Are they your sons?” a surprisingly high voice asked her. He sounded like a mere boy.

Azusa took a better look when asked. Within the basket, made of flowering wisteria vines, were her sleeping sons. “Yukiya—! Yukichi!”

She ran to them, hanging onto the basket. There was Yukiya, covered in mud from head to toe, hugging his little brother tight. Yukichi’s eyes were bright red and puffy but, as far as Azusa could see, he was completely unharmed.

“Don't worry. I made them sleep for a bit but they should wake up soon. I'm sorry for everything,” the massive crow spoke in clear Words of Within(10). He then bowed his head. “I did such a sloppy job with mending the Barrier that the children tripped into the Tear.”

His explanation, on the other hand, made no sense to Azusa. She looked at him with her mouth left open as the crow tried again, “What I’m trying to say is that these children got caught in a place they couldn’t escape by themselves. It was my fault so, please, don’t scold them for it.”

Azusa, having fully forgotten herself by that point, nodded. “Are you—a messenger from Lord Yamagami?”

“...… Ah, well, something like that.”

“Thank you for saving my sons.”

“It was my fault in the first place. There may be a chance these children and I meet again in the future, they’re good kids. Please, raise them well.” With those words, the crow flapped his wings again and took off. Once more, the moon twisted ever so softly and, in a matter of seconds, the massive crow vanished, melting away into the sky as if it were all an illusion.

Azusa remained frozen for a short while. However, just moments after the crow disappeared, she saw Yukiya starting to stir. “Yukiya, Yukiya! Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Mother……?”

Azusa knew it wasn’t right to scold him, yet she couldn’t quite help herself. “You idiot! Where did you even go? Do you have any injuries? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine—”

“Ah, I’m so glad you’re safe.” Azusa tightly hugged the still dazed Yukiya.

But their hug didn’t last long, as Yukiya came to himself and screamed, “And Yukichi?!”

Yukichi awoke right then and there, perhaps prompted by his brother yelling out his name. He seemed just as utterly confused, but the moment he recognized Azusa’s face, his daze was replaced by bawling. “Mother!”

“Yukichi!”

“I’m sorry!” As his little brother latched onto Azusa, Yukiya naturally moved back a little. “I tried to come back after a bit, but I couldn’t find the path I had used for the way out.”

“I see.”

“But why? I mean, this is the back of the Township Lord’s Residence, isn’t it?” Yukiya, who had figured out where they were after taking in their surroundings, looked utterly baffled at the situation. “Why did we get lost……?”

Yukiya’s furrowed brow relaxed completely. His expression at the moment was no different from the one he once wore as an infant. “...... It actually was… scary.”

“It was, wasn’t it? It had to be so, so scary.”

“I wanted to return but I couldn’t! Yukichi was crying and I was so hungry—”

“And yet you still protected your brother, didn’t you? You were such a strong boy. I’m proud of you, very well done.”

The second Azusa said so, Yukiya unexpectedly burst into tears. He wept just as loudly as Yukichi had.

“I’m hungry! I want to go back home! I’m going home!” Yukiya yelled between sobs, his face completely red. It was such a shock, Yukichi’s own tears stopped. It had been such a long time since Yukiya had last cried like that, now that Azusa thought about it—so unlike the eldest and the youngest, who would fight and cry over any little thing.

Having heard Yukiya’s cries, people rushed from the Residence in a panic. At the head of the group was Yukimasa, sprinting towards them as fast as he could.

“Yukiya, Yukichi! Where did you go!? We were worried sick,” her husband yelled with obvious relief. Her eldest too was right behind him, running and tumbling down towards them.

There was still time. It may never be smooth sailing, but Yukiya was still her son and they were all a family. Azusa, more than anything, was glad for realizing that much before it was too late.

Legends said that Yatagarasu went on to serve under Yamagami after death. Perhaps Fuyuki now worked for Yamagami and, having realized things couldn’t remain like that, had given her a chance to realize her mistake.

——The wind blew between the trees. It sounded like Fuyuki’s gentle laugh.

—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---

1: The original title (ふゆきにおもう, or Fuyuki Ni Omou) is an interesting one. Fuyuki's name is translated in the title because I find the imagery of the barren tree extremely important to Fuyuki's story. Fuyuki is also a Karina, or alias, not her birth name. Much like Asebi at the start of the story, this is a name that was given to her later in her life. It’s very purposely selected and so this choice is made with the intention of highlighting it. As for the “Thoughts of”, おもう is very interesting. おもう can be 思う and also 想う, as in, ‘to feel (emotions)’, which used in this kind of context mostly means ‘to care’ or ‘to love’.

2: Yukichi’s nickname among the family is チー坊, Chiibou, with the bou or 坊 being a kanji for a young boy and used in words like 坊や or 坊主, both meaning “boy” with different connotations, or 坊っちゃん, which is a relatively affectionate way to talk about the young son of a good family.

3: This is a wordplay used by Fuyuki. The word idiot, baka (馬鹿), in japanese is an ateji: essentially, it was given kanji that fit it pronunciation-wise but not meaning-wise. The two kanji? “Horse” (Ba) and “deer” (Ka). She’s layering the insults.

4: The narration is referring specifically to the gambling game that Wakamiya played in the Ravine back in The Raven Doesn’t Choose His Master.

5: Kemari refers to a ball game practiced in Japan since ancient times, a form of primitive football. It was indeed historically popular among courtiers and people of the nobility at the time.

6: Fatuous Fire Lamps refer to the type of lamp Yukiya uses when going into the cave during Golden Raven. In short, they use 鬼火 (Fatuous Fire), which within the story’s lore consume sugar to light up instead and don’t risk burning your house if left unchecked or broken. This makes lamps using Fatuous Fires desirable and expensive—they’re a common sight in nobles’ houses and in places where the risk of a fire would be too great like libraries and archives.

7: Bellflowers have been actually used in Japan as temporal ‘cages’ for fireflies, to the point their japanese name is 蛍袋 (hotarubukuro), meaning ‘firefly bag.’ Green onion heads aren’t nearly as popular an option as far as I know, but being empty inside makes them suitable for the purpose too.

8: Yukima (雪馬) and Yukichi (雪雉) both use, as said here, the kanji of animals. The Ma in Yukima means horse and the Chi in Yukichi green pheasant. Yukiya is the exception, as the kanji of his name isn’t that of an animal and is instead inherited from his grandfather (Gen’ya or 玄哉). One could argue that 哉 being part of the word for a japanese male sparrowhawk (悦哉) kind of keeps the theming, but the animal is the meaning itself of the kanji for both the Ma and the Chi, but not the Ya.

9: The original term for Broodmaid is a pun. The word for nursemaid is 乳母, or ‘uba’, and uses the kanji for milk and for mother respectively. In this context, 乳, or milk, is read ‘u.’ There’s another kanji that can also be read ‘u’—羽, feather. And so, the women who help incubate and take care of a noblewoman’s child in this setting are also ‘uba’ but written 羽母. Hence I went with ‘broodmaid’ as an adaptation of ‘nursemaid’.

10: As alluded to here, the language spoken in Yamauchi is referred to as 御内詞 (Miuchikotoba) by the Yatagarasu. The “Mi” is essentially a prefix showing respect to the “uchi” which is the uchi from Yamauchi and means “inside”, and finally the “kotoba” isn’t using the usual kanji (言葉) but 詞, which also means words but it’s used more in the context of poetry or music lyrics. Words of Within is my take on the idea, as it mostly respects the spirit of the original while being understandable.

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