#The Anchor Inn

[rachaelstray]

Sunday lunch at The Anchor Inn Whittonstall - review

We recently enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Anchor Inn Whittonstall so thought I’d share an honest review. The Anchor Inn had been on my to dine in list for a while and I was really hoping we’d enjoy our visit. About The Anchor Inn Whittonstall The Anchor Inn Whittonstall restaurant retains many original features, bare stone walls, beams and vaulted ceiling and is the perfect spot for a family…

[taproomtraveler]

The Anchor Inn *

The Anchor Inn located in a lovely position overlooking the Bartley Water and the Eling Tide Mill. Plenty of outside seating the bar is looking a bit tired. Only one real ale on tap Doom Bar however the barmaid was unable to pull a pint from it. I settled for a pint of Proper Job a pale ale not great. On the side of the bar is an area set out as a restaurant. Fish & Chips £17. Review 2023.

[historical-misfit]

i'm sorry i had to-

[menubot]

Only $1.50 for COMBINATION SEAFOOD PLATTER, Crisp French Fries, Cole Slaw crabcake, haddock, oysters at Anchor Inn Seafood Restaurant? Bargain! http://menus.nypl.org/menus/27678

[muses0fgracie]

@muses-inn sent: “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.“ (Ashton to Unico)

Beauty and the Beast starters | Not Accepting

He had gotten himself stuck in a trap while exploring this new place he'd woken up in, and his mind and memories hurt when he tried to think about how he could have possibly ended up here.

...And why he had felt the gentle breeze of the West Wind as he was just opening his eyes...

But while wandering to find out what this place was, he had been caught in a snare trap. It was a miracle that he was not dead (as the snares had only wrapped around his legs and body), but it was still very scary.

This humanoid stranger had noticed and offered to help, which Unico was grateful for, although the baby unicorn was understandably nervous. What if one wrong move would activate more snares?

“Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.“

Unico tried to calm himself down when the other spoke those words; despite his fears, he had a feeling that panicking would most likely worsen things more than the other doing something incorrectly. So he took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking to the best of his ability, in order to allow the other to properly set him free.

"O-Okay..." He kept one eye open to watch, anxiously hoping it wouldn't hurt.

[benkeibear]

『 Cupping their cheek 』

☼ synopsis: Soft fluff blurbs of how they react to you cupping their cheeks out of nowhere.

☼ characters: various jjk men

☼ notes: leaving you guys with something short and sweet before a liddol break 🫶

Toji will at first grunt when you cup his cheeks and he might even roll his eyes but upon seeing the sweet smile on your face he won't pull away, eyes closed as he relaxes into the warmth your palms provide. When you trace the scar on his lips with your thumb you can feel his breath relax, allowing you to take care of him.

Gojo will smile brightly when you cup his cheeks, his hands gently resting on top of yours before he makes you squish his cheeks together just to hear your cute laugh. He will cup your cheeks right after, just looking at you with that smug expression before leaning in to kiss you.

Geto will give you the smallest "hm?" possible before relaxing into your hands, thinking you're holding his head still to remove some food from the corner of his lips or to smudge away the lipstick stain you might have left behind on his cheek but he wouldn't mind to stay in this position for a moment longer, feeling held.

Nanami will look at you with a straight face but you can see his eyes soften and his jaw unclench for once. He finds peace within your embrace however small it might be. If you smile at him or tell him to take a deep breath before confessing your love to him he will give you the most precious smile and kissing your palm while thanking you for being his anchor.

Higuruma will smile lazily when your palms touch his cheeks, his own hands cupping your face in return. "And now?" he asks amused and relishes the way you nuzzle against his broad palms before bringing your face closer so he may kiss your forehead before gently kissing your lips.

Yuuta will look at you with the begging puppy eyes, a little "yes, love?" slipping from his lips, wondering if you tried getting his attention and he didn't notice before. When you tell him you just wanted to look at his handsome face he will blush ever so slightly and chuckle, not trying to get away from your gentle hold on his face any time soon.

Choso will give you his full attention when you cup his cheeks, no matter what he was doing previously. He's looking at you like you're the center of the universe and it feels like time is slowing down around you two. His gaze can't help but flicker to your lips, hoping you'll kiss him while holding his face like this.

Sukuna will flinch away but leans back into your palm with an exaggerated huff about how you're lucky that he tolerates you. His face feels warm against your palm and one of his eyebrows remains raised, waiting for an explanation to your antics but your thumb caressing his cheek before your lips grace his are answer enough. He won't pull away for as long as your palms caress his cheeks.

Mahito will nuzzle into your hands like an over excited puppy before gently biting the flesh of your palm just underneath your thumb. "You're a foolish one to do this. But that's why I keep you around," he chuckles, teasing you about the way you willingly put yourself in danger by touching him but he would never harm his most precious human.

Yuuji will give you the big round eyes, his entire attention on you and his body visibly relaxing before leaning into one of your palms, eager for your thumb to caress his cheekbone in the way you always do. The word to describe his gaze would be love struck, utterly in love with you and craving your gentle caress as if this would be the last time he ever gets to feel your love.

Megumi will roll his eyes when you cup his cheeks and his face remains straight, emotions unreadable to you but the way he's not pulling away and his shoulders slowly slouch tells you enough. He's enjoying the moment despite not speaking up - perhaps not wanting to spoil this moment of softness.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[khywren]

Ravenous

pairing: Astarion/f!reader rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 4.4k tags/warnings: shameless smut, piv sex, oral sex, fingering, blood drinking, praise kink, multiple orgasms/overstimulation

summary: You part your legs for him without hesitation, wetness pooling between your thighs. Astarion hasn't even touched you yet and already you are dizzy with need, obedient without him even needing to ask for you to accommodate him. You would beg him for it if he asked you to. Astarion's voice has fallen to a conspiratorial whisper when he brings his lips close to your ear and asks, “You want to feel more than my fangs inside you, don't you?” ────────── Astarion is feeling particularly hungry tonight. And this time, he's craving more than just your blood.

AO3 ┊ masterlist

Pale light filters through the frost-encrusted windows, the panes of glass rattling as the winds outside buffet the tiny inn you and Astarion have chosen to take refuge in for the evening. Despite the raging storm outside your room, your senses are deafened to anything beyond your immediate vicinity; you hear only the steady, rhythmic drumbeat of your heart and the quiet sounds of pleasure Astarion makes as he takes his fill of you.

A satisfied sigh, a low hum of approval. The eager lap of his tongue against your heated skin. Tame by most standards, but unmistakable evidence of the sheer indulgence that is your blood and the satisfaction it brings him.

By now, the presence of his fangs barely register as anything more than a dull, familiar ache. You sit comfortably on the bed between his thighs, braced against his chest as he cradles the side of your head with an open palm. The fingers of his other hand lay entwined with your own and comfortably in your lap, anchoring you to one another.

Ever since the first time you offered Astarion your blood, the act has had a distinct intimacy about it, one that has grown even more profound as your relationship has developed.

What once were quiet, stolen moments of comfort in camp have become the foundation of your devotion to one another, the one thing you can provide him that no one and nothing else can – at least, not in this particular way.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't immediately notice the shift in your awareness, or the fatigue that ebbs through your body as Astarion continues to drink deeply from you. The feeling almost borders on euphoria, beckoning you to let go and sink into a deep slumber, but you manage to reign yourself in just before your eyes close completely.

He's probably taken more than he should, but you can't spare the effort that it would take to care. Astarion needs blood, and you are more than happy to provide it for him. A gentle squeeze of his hand is all it takes to alert him, and he swallows audibly one last time as he pulls away from your throat. 

With eyes half-hooded and dark as the wine you had downstairs, he looks as though he has just been roused from a deep sleep.

Your heart constricts in your chest as you catch a glance at him from the corner of your eye and turn to watch him. Even now, you still find yourself mesmerized by how beautiful he is, like a pale rose in bloom beneath the full moon.

The corners of his mouth are tinged a subtle pink, the same shade now creeping across the rest of his pallid complexion. You particularly notice the flush that colors the tips of his ears, a stark contrast against the soft white curls of his hair. Pressed up against him as you are, you can feel the change your blood brings to his body, little tendrils of the life and warmth you have so eagerly given him.

Astarion brushes a thumb over the remaining blood on his lips and licks it clean, turning his attention on you.

“You pilfered the extra sweetrolls.”

You're not sure what to make of the flatness of his tone, and when you meet his gaze his expression betrays very little of what he's thinking.

“The barkeep was closing up for the night,” you assert, “and they were just going to go to waste.”

The arts of stealth and sleight of hand have never quite been your strong suits, but during your travels with Astarion, you had come to realize their merits. He had been teaching you the proper ways of remaining undetected, though to somewhat mixed results. But you were trying your best – that even he had to admit.

And if you had happened to put his teaching to good use to steal yourself a couple extra snacks, what harm was there in that?

“And besides,” you add, “I thought you might enjoy the extra treat too.”

Astarion weaves his fingers through your hair, guiding your face up towards his own. His lips are soft against yours when he murmurs, “I'm not chastising you, darling. Merely observing.” You feel him grin as he says, “I'm honestly just impressed that you didn't get caught. Maybe you're not a lost cause after all.”

Before you can protest, he kisses you properly, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. Your part your lips with a heavy sigh, and you detect the distinct flavor of iron still lingering on his tongue as he explores your mouth. There's nothing else significant about the taste of your blood that you can detect, of course, but Astarion must have known the difference the moment he bit you.

When he pulls away, his eyes never leave your face, and you know him well enough by now to sense the thinly-veiled hunger in his gaze.

“You must know that your blood is always a treat.”

He says it almost absently, as if his thoughts are elsewhere. The tempo of your heart rises on instinct, and you know he can hear it when his hand slips from your own and travels over the hem of your nightgown, impossibly warm through the thin cotton fabric.

You swallow thickly, mouth parched as his fingers slip beneath the nightgown and begin to travel up, up, up.

“Although, I must admit, it's hardly the only part of you worth savoring.”

You part your legs for him without hesitation, wetness pooling between your thighs. Astarion hasn't even touched you yet and already you are dizzy with need, obedient without him even needing to ask for you to accommodate him.

You are aware of the press of his cock just below the small of your back, already half-hard beneath his pants. It only serves to excite you that much more, and when you adjust your hips slightly to allow him better access, the friction coaxes a low groan from him that sends a wave of arousal straight through your center.

It must only take moments for his hand to glide up the length of your thigh, but it feels like ages, anticipation building in you like a tightly wound spring about to snap. But instead of relief, you feel even more tense as his fingers press up against your soaked underwear, a maddening barrier between your bodies that you want nothing more than to tear away so that he might finally give you what you need.

You would beg him for it if he asked you to. 

Astarion's voice has fallen to a conspiratorial whisper when he brings his lips close to your ear and asks, “You want to feel more than my fangs inside you, don't you?”

You moan wantonly, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Y-yes…”

Your voice cracks around the single syllable, betraying your desperation.

"I thought so,” Astarion remarks with a low, rumbling laugh. He seems quite pleased with how easily he's gotten you worked up, the smug bastard. But gods, do you want him.

“How many fingers?”

Your breath hitches, and you clench around nothing at the thought alone.

"Two."

Astarion clicks his tongue in what sounds like admonishment, but his hand mercifully slips beneath your underwear nevertheless. He rewards you with a tantalizingly slow drag of his fingers between your slick folds, finally sliding the tip of one single finger inside you. You are so wet and aching for him that he meets little resistance, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

“I do so adore your enthusiasm,” he muses. “But you can take more for me, can't you?”

Despite the fog clouding your thoughts all but robbing you of your ability to speak, you manage to tell him, “I... I can try.”

Astarion presses a second finger into you, burying himself to the second knuckle.

“Good girl.”

Your head falls back against his shoulder as his fingers slowly pump inside you in a steady, deliberate rhythm, working you open with a tenderness he reserves only for you. The additional stimulation of the soft pad of his thumb against your clit has you seeing stars, and you instinctively buck your hips to seek more of that delicious friction.

“Astarion…”

Your tone implies so many things: your desire, your growing need for release, your adoration of how well he knows your body, an instrument he plays to perfection every time he touches you.

Astarion presses a third finger at your entrance, lavishing wet, open-mouthed kisses against the shell of your ear and the column of your neck.

“Are you ready, love? I want to hear you sing for me.”

“Yes,” you whine, spreading your legs a little wider and inhaling a bracing breath. You've yet to take him like this, but you know he will make it good for you. He always does.

“Just relax,” he coos. The stretch of his third finger is an unfamiliar ache, but he eases inside you slowly, patiently, making sure you are comfortable. The pain is only temporary, swiftly replaced with indescribable pleasure, and soon his fingers are buried as deep as they can go.

You moan for him between panting breaths, caged against his body by the hand between your legs and his other hand, which palms and kneads your breasts over your disheveled nightgown. Experimentally, he crooks his fingers inside you, grazing the spot that punches a high, keening whine from your open mouth.

“There... that's it,” he praises you, repeating the gesture again, and then a third time, leaving you dizzy and breathless. All the while, you grind against him, lost in your mounting pleasure.

“How's that?”

His voice cuts through your arousal, tethering you to the present moment. It takes you an embarrassingly long time to form a coherent thought, but you grin mischievously when you tell him:

“Feels... good... but not nearly as good as your cock.”

Astarion tenses, the arm that encircles your torso tightening and pulling you firmly against his body.

“Careful,” he growls. “You have no idea what that wicked little mouth of yours does to me. I have half a mind to take you right now, to show you just how good I can be.”

You don't tell him that you know exactly what it does to him. You can feel the evidence of your teasing against your back, the way his hips stutter against you, making you all too aware of how hard his cock has suddenly become.

Perhaps it's the blood loss that makes you bold, but you don't hesitate to push him just a little further, eager to make him feel even a fraction of the overwhelming desire you've already experienced for him. You know he loves it, that fiery spark of yours.

“Then do it.”

Your voice is low, almost breathless as you say it, and not entirely on purpose. Because as much as you enjoy knowing it's taking everything he has not to make good on his word, the thought of him replacing his fingers with that lovely cock of his threatens to unravel you completely.

A moment of tense silence passes as Astarion seems to consider your suggestion. His fingers have stopped moving, and you furrow your brows in frustration, earning you a huff of laughter for your efforts.

“And rob you of an unforgettable evening of pleasure?” Astarion asks, feigning offense. “You must think me cruel.”

His thumb teases slow, purposeful circles around your clit, coaxing another moan from your lips. He isn't entirely wrong – as desperate as you are for your release, it would almost be a shame to end it all so anticlimactically. Astarion seems to be in agreement when he murmurs, “No, I plan to take my time with you. I'm going to take you apart, piece by piece, until the only remaining thoughts you have are of me and me alone.”

He punctuates his words with a series of slow, deep thrusts of his fingers inside you, and your hands fumble for purchase on his thighs, gripping tightly as if it's the only thing keeping you from toppling completely over the edge. It's barely enough.

“I'm yours, Astarion,” you tell him.

"I know, love,” he says tenderly, capturing your mouth in a brief yet searing kiss. His eyes darken, fangs gleaming behind the smirk that plays effortlessly across his face.

“And soon everyone in this dusty little inn will know it too.”

The hand on your breast slips beneath your nightgown and brushes over your bare skin, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan as he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. Embarrassment floods through you when you remember how thin the walls are, and that anyone in the neighboring rooms must already have heard your cries of pleasure.

“Don't be shy,” he insists, returning his attention to your neck as he increases the pace of his fingers inside you, slotting his mouth over the place he fed from you only minutes ago. The wet slide of his tongue against your skin and the way your cunt flutters around his fingers crashes against you in a wave of pure ecstasy, and this time you don't hold back as you cry out his name, your hips bearing down against him as you chase your pleasure.

 Astarion grins wickedly against your throat and makes a primal noise somewhere between a groan and a growl that ripples through your body.

“There you go. I knew you would be good for me.”

Heat pools low in your belly, enticing you closer and closer towards the sweet oblivion you seek. Every drag of his fingers makes you tremble, a messy string of whimpers tumbling from your lips.

You're thrusting against him now with only one thought on your mind, teetering on the razor thin edge between your desire for more of him and the overwhelming need to let him see just how good he makes you feel.

"You're close, aren't you?” Astarion purrs into your ear. “Let go – I've got you.”

It's all the encouragement you need, and you come hard around his fingers, even as they continue to thrust inside you. The walls of your cunt contract around him, and soon your body goes limp in his arms, your chest heaving as you surrender yourself completely to the current that washes away any thoughts that aren't Astarion, Astarion, Astarion.

Astarion murmurs praises against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, your shoulder, and when at last he slides his fingers out of you, you watch as he raises those same fingers to his mouth before slipping them past his lips to get a proper taste of you.

His eyes fall shut and he groans softly in your ear, cursing under his breath. He's drunk on the taste of you, and you know he wants more.

Reluctantly, Astarion untangles himself from you, and you lay back against the pillows expectantly. You watch him with rapt attention as he lifts his shirt over his head, exposing his pale, sculpted chest to your hungry gaze. His pants are discarded just as quickly, cast aside as soon as he can tug them off. Your eyes rove shamelessly over his body, and when at last they meet his, you almost lose yourself in the depths of his adoring gaze. A thousand shades of red you cannot name, roiling like the open ocean in a storm.

But there is one unmistakable thing you see: his hunger for you, so blatant in the way his eyes narrow and his mouth draws into a thin, taut line as he prowls towards you.

Within seconds he's straddling you on the mattress, pushing your nightgown up and over your thighs before he hooks his fingers beneath your underwear. He is growing impatient, and all but tears them off of you. You help him kick them aside, pinned by the intensity of his gaze as he admires your body and all the curves and imperfections he loves so much.

You manage to pull the nightgown over your head in the time it takes Astarion to sink between your thighs, propping himself up in his elbows as once again you part your legs for him. Overstimulated and exhausted as you are, you still ache with need, and when Astarion opens his mouth and runs his tongue over his fangs you clench hard enough that you feel the evidence of your arousal drip obscenely down your thighs.

“Gods above,” Astarion groans. “Look at you. You're absolutely soaking, aren't you?”

Your mouth falls slack, and you can't seem to find your voice. Your heart thunders as Astarion hooks his hand under the back of your knee and spreads you open, granting him unfettered access to you. You watch, almost hypnotic, as he presses his lips against the smooth expanse of your thigh, and you feel the distinct graze of his fangs as he nips at your skin. 

You're trembling again. Astarion kisses slowly up your thigh, stopping right before he reaches your center. “I love you like this,” he murmurs. His tone is low, husky, dripping with want.

“So eager for me. Completely debauched.”

“Please, Astarion…” you whimper. “I want to feel your mouth on me.”

The last thing you see before Astarion buries his face between your slick folds is the sly, wolfish gleam in his eyes, and the instant his tongue touches you you throw your head back and ball your fists in the sheets. With your eyes closed, you become hyper-aware of him between your legs, every move he makes amplified exponentially.

It's simultaneously too much and not enough, and you moan his name obscenely as he teases your entrance, the tip of his nose rubbing against your oversensitive clit. You writhe beneath him, but he clamps a firm hand over your hips to hold you in place.

“Stay still,” he commands. You don't know how you find the willpower to obey, but you somehow manage, though only just. Every nerve ending in your body is alight; you feel weightless and unbound, helpless to do anything but whimper as Astarion feasts on you.

Astarion's tongue slips greedily inside your cunt, tasting your arousal, and he groans again as his hands grip you even tighter. His nails leave little crescent moons peppered across your skin, the grip he has on you nothing if not possessive. 

He means to claim every inch of you.

Emboldened by your pleading moans, Astarion lavishes his attention on you, bringing you swiftly to the precipice of another orgasm. With the flat of his tongue pressed against your aching center, he drags himself slowly upwards, stopping only once he's reached your clit and wraps his lips around it. His tongue swirls around the taut bundle of nerves, and your entire body shudders, overcome with a sensation you lack the words to describe.

Vaguely, you feel the way his hips jerk forward, unable to stop himself from rutting into the mattress as he loses himself in the taste of you. He grunts with every thrust, a low rumble in his chest, and the sound alone nearly undoes you completely.

Your hands are in his hair, weaving through his soft curls as you give them a gentle tug.

“Astarion,” you pant, “I – I'm going to –”

His movements quicken, intensifying the pressure building up inside you. And just when you think you can't take anymore, he flicks his tongue against your clit one last time and you shatter completely, a guttural moan tearing itself from your lips. He lets you clamp your thighs around his head as you ride out your second orgasm of the evening, hips bucking wildly as he guides you through it.

Your vision is hazy when you open your eyes and strain to look down at him. The sight of him, pupils-blown and his face slick with your arousal, is an image you immediately commit to memory.

As he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, Astarion sits back on his calves, eyes trained on you. You can feel his gaze raking slowly over your body, admiration and his devotion to you barely concealing the insatiable desire he no longer has the patience to withhold.

You catch him reaching down to fist his cock, still flushed an enticing shade of pink from his earlier feeding. A fat bead of precum glistens at its tip, and he hisses softly as his fingers brush against it.

“You need it, don't you?” he says, pumping himself. “My cock, buried deep inside you, filling you with every thrust.”

He must be imagining it himself; every time his hand glides up his length, he hisses through clenched teeth, fangs digging into his lower lip as his eyes fall half-closed.

“And my mouth... What about that, darling? I'm not quite finished tasting you yet.”

You watch him reverently, transfixed by his every movement. Your voice is raw and strained when you reply, “Oh, gods... Anywhere. Everywhere.”

Astarion huffs a laugh and leans forward, his cock slipping through your slick folds. You can feel the blunt head teasing your entrance, not quite pushing inside, though at this point it would take no effort for him to do so. His willpower must be immense. It's far stronger than yours, at any rate, and you cant your hips upward, whimpering when the head of his cock slips inside you just far enough for you to feel how hard he really is.

“Greedy little thing aren't you?” he says, his eyes darkening. He steadies himself with a hand on your hip and hovers over you, lowering his mouth until he's just above your lips.

“How lucky for you that I'm feeling exceptionally generous tonight.”

He kisses you fiercely now, all tongue and teeth, and you taste yourself again as he coaxes your mouth open.

“How about here?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You roll your hips against him again, but he remains infuriatingly still. When he tears his lips from yours, he peppers kisses along your jaw, tracing a searing path down the curve of your neck.

“Or here?”

His tongue sweeps over the bite on your neck, hard enough to reopen the wound he left before. He laps at the trickle of blood and swallows.

“Or perhaps…”

Astarion leaves more kisses across your bare skin, and you know well before he reaches his destination what he plans to do. Your entire body seizes with anticipation, amplifying the pleasure that lances through you like lightning when his mouth finds your nipple and he takes it into his mouth, biting gently on the taut bud.

“Yes!”

Your back arches off the mattress as you cry out, and Astarion finally slams himself inside you, burying himself immediately to the hilt. He wastes no effort to be gentle with you, his hips snapping forward as he fucks into your tight, wet heat with almost reckless abandon. As you expected, his fingers were nothing compared to the delicious stretch of his cock as he bottoms out, again and again and again with each thrust. Every drag of his cock is pure ecstasy, and if not for your delirious state you know you might easily come again from just this alone.

You hear him moan, low and primal in the back of his throat, and you know he won't last long. His fangs are against your skin once more, pressed against the upper part of your breast, and you have only to whimper a quiet, “yes,” before he sinks them into you yet again.

It isn't about the blood – although you won't find him complaining. Rather, he's marking you as his, in a place that only you will see. It isn't the first time he has done so, but it never quite loses its thrill. You bear the marks of his passion all over your body, anywhere and everywhere he's put his hands or his mouth upon you.

“Astarion…” you breathe, wrapping your legs around the small of his back with what little strength you have left. Astarion pulls away from you just enough to grab your hands, interlacing your fingers as he lifts your hands to either side of your head.

“Again,” he growls. “Louder.” He pistons into you, hard and deep, the head of his cock hitting just the right spot to nearly drive you mad. It feels so good you almost forget your own name, let alone his.

“Astarion.” The sound of his name on your lips has a profound effect on him, as does the way your cunt clenches greedily around his cock, and his hands grip yours more tightly as he fucks you even harder. The wet slap of skin on skin intermingles with your shared pants and moans, and you've long since lost track of where your body ends and his begins. 

“Astarion!”

The steady rhythm of his hips staggers only slightly, but you know he's all but reached his limit. A sheen of sweat glistens on his skin, his hair limply hanging over his face. But through it all, his eyes still find yours, burning intensely as the hells themselves.

“...fuck –!”

Your name is on his lips like a prayer as he tumbles headfirst into his release, groaning as he spends himself inside you and buries his face into your neck. His hips jerk forward sporadically as he rides out the rest of his climax, not quite willing to pull out even a moment too soon.

As exhausted as you are, you don't complain when he practically collapses on you, his stamina equally spent. All the while, he never lets go of your hands.

He has made good on his word, and you don't have the strength left even to pull him into your arms, and when you try to move it feels as though you're treading through deep water.

“You're going to be the death of me, darling,” you hear Astarion murmur, his face still pressed against the hollow of your throat.

You laugh quietly, and point out the obvious: “You're already dead, Astarion.”

With some effort, he lifts you up and into his lap, arms encircling you in a loose embrace that is the only thing still keeping you upright. You hook your arms clumsily over his shoulders, grinning as he leans forward to capture your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

“And yet” he remarks, parting from your mouth only as far as he needs to for you to hear him speak. “I've never felt more alive than I do right now.”

[dimplyowl]

The first night Ed and Stede sleep together (JUST sleep, as in get in bed for the purpose of sleeping) they don’t know what to do. Stede knows he’s always been a starfish sleeper, and the last thing he wants is to force Ed to sleep in a teeny tiny ball squished against the wall. Ed knows he sleeps with one eye open, waking up ready to defend himself at the slightest sound, and he doesn’t want to keep Stede awake or (god forbid) accidentally hurt him.

And they both want to snuggle, but can’t quite figure out if that’s what the other wants too.

So they wind up on their backs, staring up at the ceiling of the inn, shoulders brushing but nothing else. And the minutes seem to stretch into hours into days, each of them holding themself stiffly to keep from encroaching on the other’s space. Until the tension builds and they both snap at the same time.

“Can I—“

“Mate—“

“You—“

“OW that’s my hair, babe”

“SHIT ED SORRY”

“No, it’s fine, just…”

“Oh for fucks sake, darling, would you please get over here?”

And Ed smiles and throws his arm over Stede’s stomach and nuzzles into his neck, and Stede pulls him in close and kisses the top of his head and their legs tangle and Ed can hear Stede’s heartbeat steady and solid beneath his head and Stede can trail his fingers up and down Ed’s bare back

And when the first light of day hits their window, Stede hasn’t moved an inch, has slept happily with the weight of his love keeping him anchored, and Ed has slept the whole night through without waking up once for maybe the first time in his entire life.

[bubble-leaves]

Money - Reth x Reader

cw / subtle angst

The day has come to a close. The sun has set, the crickets are chirping outside, and the candles in your home have been extinguished.

You had invited your boyfriend to stay over at your place for the night; today was hard for him. Against their deal, the cartel Reth was involved with had raised the price for Tish’s flow treatment. To keep up with this new flagrant price, Reth may have to work at the inn until midnight, now. He didn’t understand. His payments were always on time, always. Why was he being punished so cruelly?

Reth sits upon your comfortable bed, his eyes without shine. He’s in casual pajamas and his bandana and jewelry are off. In his peripheral vision, he can see you lighting the wick of your small homestead lamp that sits on your nightstand. The soft light is comforting to him, yet you know he’ll need a lot more than just light to make him feel okay right now. You stand directly in front of him. Reth looks up at you, a look of pure heartache on his face. He sighs as you cup his face with your hands.

“It’s gonna be okay,” You whisper, before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He closes his eyes and softly hums in response. When you pull away, he gazes back at you sadly.

“I’m gonna help, okay? Any extra money you need, I got you,” You assure.

Reth’s brows furrow together with sorrow and he shakes his head. He pulls his face out of your hands.

“No, you aren’t,” Reth says. “This is all on me. You’re not getting in any of the cartel business, okay? Over my dead body, literally.”

Your shoulders sink as you exhale. Reth has a terrible problem with accepting help, but you understand where he’s coming from here. He never wanted you involved in any of the shady business he does, he’s always let you know that. But seeing him suffer this internal turmoil is killing you.

“They won’t know the extras are from me,” You argue. “With how much you work, especially so early in the Market, they couldn’t.”

“(Y/n). I said no,” Reth affirms.

You frown. You feel a bit helpless, as though you’re watching him struggle to keep his head above water. You both stare at each other in silence before Reth finally looks away. He rubs his wrist anxiously, then decides to abandon the conversation. He crawls up to the side of your bed he’s come to call his own, and slips underneath the covers with his back to you. It’s not that he’s angry with you. He just . . . doesn’t know what to say. You know. One thing Reth will never deny is that you understand him better than anyone else.

You release a quiet breath and get into bed with him. Reth hears you settle down, but doesn’t expect to feel your back against his. His eyes shift to the side and his brows furrow. You two never sleep back to back, never ever. He hears the crackle of your fireplace in the other room as his lips purse in thought. Did he upset you? Was he too cold toward you? Quietly, Reth looks over his shoulder to check on you. He sees you breathing peacefully. There doesn’t seem to be any distress, but he still feels bad. Finally, he lets out a sigh and turns over to you. A small smile breaks on your lips as you feel his arm curl around your body and tug it against his.

“Was I being mean?” He mumbles.

You breathe out a laugh. “No, not even close. Don’t worry about it. I understand, love.”

Reth’s lips press together as he feels his heart throbbing. Your unrelenting, unwavering kindness surprises him every time. He nestles his face in the crook of your neck and closes his eyes in bliss. He pecks a few kisses against your skin as your hand caresses the arm that anchors you to his chest. The air inside the room feels fresh and comfortable, effortlessly easing the tension from a few minutes ago. Your weighted covers, the ambience of the chirping crickets and nearby fireplace, all calm down both of your nerves.

Just then, your fingertip begins tracing over the marking tattoos on his forearm. His eyes open once more to watch. He sighs deep in his throat. The memory of him being held down by several cartel members to get these inked is somehow less painful when you’re here, idly tracing the patterns. Reth wants the memory to be replaced with this very moment. Because you don’t bring him pain or fear, anger or disappointment. You just bring love. It feels so strange, but he just can’t get enough of you.

“You’re making me shiver,” Reth chuckles.

You smile, “I know, isn’t it amazing?”

He rolls his eyes before closing them, a big smile on his face too. “It is. But you’d know all about amazing, huh?”

“Mhm,” You smile, turning over on your other side to face him. “Like giving you 10,000 gold a week. How’s that?”

Reth’s smile drops. His mouth hangs open in pure shock for a beat, then he snaps out of it.

“Babe, that’s, like, nearly 3 weeks of me working at both the inn and the Market,” He says.

You shrug. “Would that cover the costs?”

His wide eyes blink a couple of times. “Well . . . I mean, yeah, but . . . ”

His words trail off as the arm around your waist retracts a bit. Your lips part with regret; maybe you should have laid off the pestering. Instinctually, your fingertips brush along his arm as it subtly moves. Reth looks down. It’s hard to decipher what he’s feeling. You wait patiently for him to continue. Just then, Reth looks up to you with eyes glossed over with tears. You softly gasp. His brows are furrowed upward in something resembling sorrow and confusion.

“ . . . I don’t get it. Why are you so insistent on helping, even in the face of danger, just for me?” He asks in a low, quivering tone.

Your head tilts to the side. You’re taken aback by his words.

“What do you mean, ‘just for you?’ Reth, I love you,” You emphasize.

Reth’s eyes close tight after those last 3 words. One single tear streams down his cheek. Then another. And another. You deeply frown and use your thumbs to rub them away, listening as he tries to keep his breathing steady. He’s never wept in front of you before. But, like usual, you seem to know exactly what to do. Reth softly grasps one of your wrists, then looks up at you.

“I have no idea how you do this to me,” He says with a bittersweet laugh. “Ah . . . not so tough when I’m with you, huh?”

You smile and caress his cheek back and forth with your thumb. “It’s fine to cry, crying is good.”

Reth stares at you for a second, then groans and hangs his head. “Dragon, why are you so . . . ugh. I am so lucky to have you.”

You giggle, just before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. It’s clear that he just needs to stop talking for a minute. He quietly moans due to the delightful chill you send down his back. He kisses you back immediately, with the same softness, until you let go to speak.

Eyes half-open as you pull back, you say, “Money is the least thing I could give you, okay? This isn’t no loan, this isn’t no mooching, this is me just helping you out until the price is lowered again.”

Reth sighs, clearly still bothered by this notion. He opens his mouth to refute, but he recognizes that he’s not going to make you sway on this matter, despite how dangerous it could be for you.

You continue after a spell of silence. “And what am I gonna do with all the extra money I get, anyway? Buy a farm?”

Reth’s concerned expression is abandoned for a smirk. “I mean, you could.”

You brush a stray hair from his eyes and nod. “I could. But I’d rather spend it on you.”

“Damn it,” Reth says under his breath, his face feeling hot.

You giggle as you watch him blush and shift his shoulders, flattered. Normally, he’s the one that would say something like that to you. Reth didn’t know that it felt this good to hear.

“Okay. Okay, fine, just . . . don’t bring it into the inn or the Market. Just give it to me when I ask, here,” He finally compromises.

A soft gasp leaves his lips as you kiss his forehead again. He didn’t really expect another one.

“I got you, don’t worry,” You murmur. “Just get some rest, okay? I’ll be here.”

Those words make him feel so safe. Reth closes his eyes with a sigh and melts into the crook of your neck. His arm wraps around your waist again. You sweetly caress his arm up and down as he hugs you tight. His face is a rich maroon and his spine feels pleasant tingles floating down it. Suddenly, the world doesn’t seem like it’s crashing down on him. You would never let that happen, anyway; you are Reth’s fortress. And he feels so secure in your arms, comforted by your warmth and your kind spirit. He doesn’t know what he did to possibly deserve someone like you loving him like this, yet he’s inspired by the unconditional prospect of it. Reth wants to love you in the exact same way.

He feels your fingertips softly brush over his skin until he falls asleep, in a state of pure peace.

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 58]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Nia, Tobias, and Junie talk with Will, and run into someone unexpected.

-

Nia wakes up all on her own for once. She’s cozy and warm, and it takes a few minutes to realize where she is, tucked away into one of the alcoves of the inn they’d stayed at the night before.

She relishes the chance to move at her own pace, and stretches as she slips down to the stone ground. The torracat innkeeper, Clara, is nowhere to be seen, and bright sunlight and distant conversation stream in through the open windows.

Nia yawns as she walks outside, leaning against the warm stone wall enclosing the city so she can get a good look at the settlement in daylight.

The buildings stretching on either side of her are a blend of tan and brown, made of stones and clay. Little pops of color come from billowing curtains and a mural painted onto the side of one of the buildings.

Nia leans to see it better, heart aching as she recognizes humans and animals painted with painstaking detail, too unique to be anything but real, remembered loved ones. They’re relaxing in front of a house, a forest behind them and a city visible in the distance. It’s one of the most human sights Nia has seen since coming to this world.

It’s beautiful.

Nia tears her eyes away, leaning back to look instead at the top of the cliffs above them. The solidity of the mesa is a comforting strength, anchoring the buildings carved from its face.

At Nia’s back, over the stone wall, the sky is a bright blue above a canyon of rocky brown terrain and scraggly green trees. A cool breeze slips by, balancing well with the warm sunshine, and Nia closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath.

Pokemon—humans—pass by her, chatting and laughing amicably. Nia opens her eyes to watch them go about their business.

They look just like regular Pokemon, aside from the clothing and accessories clearly worn for comfort rather than necessity. But somehow, Nia thinks she can tell they’re human in other ways, too, just in how they move, how they walk and talk and act.

A delicate cat Pokemon with purple tufts of fur sits back on her hind legs to gesture with her forepaws as she talks, rather than with her tail or ears. A boulder Pokemon with a lizard-like face keeps overbalancing as he walks, and has to stutter-step on his short legs to regain his equilibrium before he tips over. A round little dragon Pokemon, blue with a shark-like fin and a red underbelly, grins wide as she spots a friend, her fangs on full display in a way that would feel distinctly threatening to Nia coming from a natural-born Pokemon.

They’re human, just like her. They don’t fit into this world quite right. It’s comforting, somehow, knowing that they’re all in the same boat Nia is. Knowing that no one here is going to get upset about her wanting to go home because that’s what they want, too.

On some level, Nia wishes she could stay here with them. She wishes she could forget that she has obligations to this world, to Giratina and Tobias and her guild. Some part of her just wants to…relax. No more scary fights with criminals. No more heartbreak from helping injured ‘mon after a natural disaster or mystery dungeon. No more pressure to save the entire world. To save multiple worlds.

…Would Nia leave Tobias and Maggie and everyone at the guild behind, for that kind of security? That kind of peace?

Her heart stabs with grief, and then with shame. No, she…she doesn’t think she could.

Even if she kind of wishes she could.

“Finally awake?”

Nia jumps, straightening up at Tobias’ voice. Her partner walks up to her, holding something in his hand. When he reaches her, he plops it on the rock wall. Something small, wrapped in cloth?

A delicious scent reaches Nia’s nose, making her stomach rumble. She unwraps the little package and perks up when she realizes it’s some kind of…burrito? She wastes no time stuffing it into her mouth, moaning at the taste. It has gooey cheese, vegetables that taste similar to potatoes and peppers, and…eggs? How does that work here?

Nia chooses not to question it.

“Thank you!” Nia says between bites.

Tobias leans away from her, torn between amusement and disgust. “Figured you’d be hungry, but you don’t have to go feral on me. They have more.”

He juts a thumb back the way he came. Must be the cafeteria. Or maybe a restaurant or something.

Nia just hums a happy sound, continuing to stuff her face. The ingredients have a distinctly non-human taste to them, the spicy red bits just a step to the left of a human world pepper, but it’s still undeniably human-inspired.

She’s just finishing her last bite when she hears “Nia!” from somewhere up above.

Nia looks up, hand over her eyes. Junie peels away from a small flock of flying types, diving down and flapping to a stop just before she would‘ve crashed into the top of the stone wall.

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Nia whines, hand on her chest.

“It’s fun!” Junie chirps. Her eyes are bright. “You ready to try out the baths? I’ve been waiting for like an hour! Firebutt said I shouldn’t wake you.”

Tobias casually shoves Junie off the rock wall. She disappears over the edge with a squawk, then flutters back up with a glare.

Oh, the baths! She’d forgotten. “I’d love to try them, but don’t we need to talk to Will?”

“He can’t meet with us until later,” Tobias grumbles. “Fidel said he’d come find us when he’s ready.”

“Which means we can try their fancy baths!” Junie presses.

Nia smiles, then falters when she looks at Tobias. “You could come with us and see if they have, uh…anything for fire types?”

Tobias waves her off. “Go splash around in your fancy water. I’m not done looking around anyways.”

Nia watches him a moment longer, uncertain. He’d been in a bad mood last night, and they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it. Before she can push, though, Junie is flapping madly at her back, nudging her forward by her shoulders.

“C’mon! C’mon!”

Nia laughs, letting the rookidee guide her towards whichever building the baths are housed in. “I’m going, I’m going! We’ll come find you when we’re done, Tobias!”

Nia hears Tobias grunt in agreement before she’s pulled away entirely.

————————————————————————————————

The bathhouse is impressive, a larger building with a few deep, bathtub-like basins cut out of the stone floor. Tiny lidded pots circle the edge of each one, and there’s a makeshift drain cut into the bottom of each basin.

Late morning seems to be an unpopular bath time for the settlement. There’s a large white-and-black sheep Pokemon taking up almost the entirety of one basin, dozing peacefully in milky water. Nia can’t imagine cleaning up the wet fluff he’ll leave behind will be fun.

The only other Pokemon inside are a grumpy-looking anteater with fiery colors and pipe-like ridges on his body, and a large blue toad Pokémon with bubble-like lumps on his arms and head. The two of them are standing at a counter and the toad greets Nia and Junie with casual hospitality, so they probably run the place.

After confirming that they’re here for a bath, the anteater ambles over to a wooden ladder that leads up through a gap in the ceiling. He climbs it and disappears onto the second floor.

The toad leads them to one of the smaller bath basins, placing a cover over the drain and warning them to stay back. Then, a wooden gutter is lowered from the ceiling at an angle, tipped right over the bath. A few moments later, steaming hot water gushes down the gutter and begins to fill the basin.

“Whoa,” Junie murmurs.

Nia watches, fascinated, and looks up to find more gutters inlaid into the ceiling, each positioned above a different basin. It’s a really cool system. How long would it take to make something like this?

The toad gathers a few of the clay pots filled with soaps, offering them for a sniff so Nia and Junie can pick a scent they agree on before pouring it into the bath. Once they do, the water quickly froths with bubbles and the soft, soothing scent of lavender wafts throughout the room.

Junie hops onto Nia’s shoulder, watching the toad Pokemon work. Then she whispers, “D’you think he makes the water himself?”

Nia twists up her mouth. “What? No!”

“He might,” Junie says, playfully serious. “He looks like a water type, and we don’t know where that water comes from.”

“So you think he just spits it out himself?!”

“I’d bet ten breakfast burritos that that fire type went upstairs to heat up the water. Why else would they need a water type here too?”

Nia looks again at the toad, pasting on a smile when he glances their way. “Wouldn’t that be…unhygienic? It would come from his mouth!”

“I’m just saying! It’s gotta be hard to get fresh water up here. A water type would be super handy for that.”

Nia hates that she has a point.

When the basin is mostly full, the toad croaks a signal of some kind, and the water trickles to a stop. The ropes holding the gutter in place reel up, lifting it to lock back into the ceiling.

The toad wishes them a relaxing bath and says to let him know if they need anything. He lays a couple of cloth towels on the edge of the bath before ambling away.

Junie wastes no time fluttering into the bath. She stays near the edge where it’s shallower, fluffing her feathers and splashing about like a bird in a fountain before settling into a relaxed puddle.

“Ohhh my God. Nia, get in here, this is awesome.”

Nia hesitates.

“C’mon! You’ve bathed in rivers, right? Water type spit can’t be any more nasty than that!”

“It’s a lot more nasty!” Nia protests, but finally dips a foot in. It’s hot, almost too much so, but it feels wonderful. Slowly, Nia wades in deeper, then sinks down to sit until the water comes up to her chin.

Okay, mouthwater or not, this is so nice. The water feels clean, at least, frothy with bubbles and scented with relaxing lavender. Nia melts into it, slumping against the curve of the rough stone basin and letting her limbs float.

They both relax for a while, soaking in the quiet and warmth, until Junie speaks up.

“So since we’re having girl time—painting our nails, fluffing our hair…”

Nia opens an eye, giving Junie an amused look.

“How’s the whole thing with you and Toby going?”

Nia opens both eyes now, giving her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Junie, floating on the surface of the water like a rubber duck, squints at Nia. “…Huh. So you really are just oblivious. Wonder if Toby is too.”

Nia sits up. “Oblivious? About what?”

Junie waves her off with a wing, sending water droplets scattering. “Nothing. I’ll tell you if it gets annoying.” Then she tilts her head. “Wonder if I could get a betting pool going with your friends at the guild. Oh, Bo would definitely be in.”

“A bet about what?!”

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” Junie dismisses. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the time me and my cousin dumped a bunch of bubble bath into my neighbor’s pool?”

Nia frowns. She’s not happy that Junie is hiding something from her that’s apparently about her, but she knows better than to push when Junie has already made up her mind.

Instead, Nia scrubs at her fur as she listens to Junie’s story, relishing this rare opportunity to take an actual bath for once. She even dunks underneath the water, coming up soaking wet. She shakes out her fur to splash Junie, and the rookidee shrieks and splashes Nia in return.

Eventually the bath starts to cool. Junie hops out first, ruffling her feathers, and Nia uses one of the towels to cover the little bird and rub her dry. Then, when Junie is a puffball, Nia does the same for herself, combing her short claws through her fur to smooth it.

They thank the two Pokemon running the bath, then head outside. Nia takes a deep breath and stretches, enjoying the way the cool breeze slips through her nearly-dry fur.

“What now?” Junie says, looking up at Nia. “Find Toby?”

“Probably. We’ll need to meet with Will soon, and I want to make sure Tobias is doing all right. He seemed a bit upset last night.”

“Don’t know how you can tell that apart from his usual grouchiness,” Junie jokes. She flaps into the air. “I’ll look for him!”

Nia watches as Junie swoops over the rock wall and to the left, flying high above the canyon below. She really has made a lot of progress since they last saw her. Nia needs to thank Bo for looking out for her friend and teaching her so much in such a short amount of time.

Nia shakes her head and goes right, looking around for her partner’s distinctive orange scales. People wave and nod to her as she passes, and she stops once or twice to exchange quick pleasantries with ‘mon they met at the convention.

Nia smiles as she walks by a hopscotch court drawn onto the stone walkway. Pokemon—probably on the younger side from how they screech and chase each other, stumbling over too-large paws and feet—play on it, hopping across and jeering at one another. A Pokemon that looks like a cross between a honeycomb and a bee floats effortlessly over the hopscotch squares, and two other kids (notably on two legs) yell that that’s cheating.

It’s just past the kids that Nia spots Tobias, leaning against the rock wall and watching the children play with a distant expression. He looks up when he notices her.

“Hey. Get your fill of fancy water?”

“I did, thank you very much.” Nia reaches his side and bumps his shoulder, then holds up her arm. “Feel my fur.“

“Why?”

“It’s soft! Seriously, feel it!”

Tobias rolls his eyes, but pets the fur on her arm. Then he stops, looking surprised, and does it again, as if entranced.

Nia laughs, and Tobias yanks his hand away.

He looks away, flushing. “It’s…fine.”

“Smell me too! I smell like a candle!”

She leans closer to him, and Tobias shoves her back, cheeks burning darker. “I’m not smelling you, you weirdo!”

Nia laughs again, burying her nose into her own neck fluff to take a deep whiff. Oh, she is going to miss these fancy baths. Her fur is silky smooth, finally free of dirt and sweat. She needs to talk to Maggie about getting something like this at the guild. She bets she could get a petition going.

Junie finds them shortly after, alighting on the rock wall and smirking at Tobias, who is still cherry-red. It’s pretty adorable.

“What’d you do?”

“Made him pet my arm.”

“Ooh. That’s evil.“

“I just wanted him to feel how soft my fur is!”

“Exactly.”

Before Nia can decode what Junie is talking about, someone clears their throat behind her. She turns, surprised, and looks up to see a brown deer Pokemon with yellow, eye-like antlers smiling down at the three of them.

“Hello. I hope you all slept well.” He takes a sniff of the air. “I see you found the baths!”

Normally Nia isn’t one to turn down a friendly conversation, even with a stranger, but the casual greeting makes even her pause. Then, her eyes widen as she recognizes the voice. “Oh! Fidel?”

“At your service.” Fidel bows his head, then transforms with a flash of purple light back into his zoroark form from the night before.

“Why do you morph so much?” Junie asks with a tilt of her head. “If you aren’t gonna prank people like Asher, then it seems like a lot of effort.”

Fidel laughs. “Not at all! That’s like asking why a water type swims if he doesn’t have anywhere to be. It’s instinctive. Like…stretching a muscle. Keeps us sharp, too, for situations where we do need to transform.”

“Such as?” Tobias asks, crossing his arms.

“Well…” Fidel thinks for a moment. “It’s important to be able to disguise in more populated areas. Especially if we need information but want to stay discreet. If we blend in, no one questions us.”

“‘Us?’”

“Asher and I.”

“You bring your son along on missions?”

Nia elbows Tobias, giving him a look. She knows he’s suspicious of Will and Fidel and everyone else here. He doesn’t need to be rude about it!

“I like to have him close by,” is all Fidel says, though his smile is tight. He flicks an ear, then turns. “Come along. We can talk as we walk. Will is available if you’re ready to meet with him.”

“Sure!” Nia trots after the zoroark, and Junie lands on her shoulder a moment later. She can hear Tobias follow after them.

As Fidel asks how they liked breakfast, he leads them to a building nestled right in the middle of the settlement. It doesn’t look any different from the others, medium-sized with slices cut from the clay and stone to act as windows. The zoroark opens the front door, leading them in.

The area inside is relatively small. It’s a sitting area of sorts, with cushions around a small fire pit, and a table with chairs nearby. A wooden ladder against the wall leads up through a gap to the second floor.

“This is more of a casual meeting area,” Fidel explains. He leads them to a door at the back wall without breaking stride. “But considering the sensitive nature of the conversation we have in mind, we’ll meet with Will in the back.”

“‘The back?’” Junie whispers. “Okay, that does sound sketchy.”

“Not you too!” Nia mutters. “Come on, he just wants some privacy. We are talking about the end of the world here!”

Nia follows Fidel through the door. Considering it’s set against the back wall, where the building meets flush against the cliffside, she expects to enter a small room. A bedroom, maybe.

Instead, Nia stops in surprise as a cool draft slips past her.

Junie, on her shoulder, murmurs, “Whoa.”

Ahead of them, Fidel moves without hesitation into a…tunnel. It must cut straight into the cliffside, and it goes deeper than Nia can immediately see the end of. It isn’t dark, though, instead lit by lanterns lining the walls.

“Wait,” Nia steps closer to get a better look at the lights. “Are these using—“

“Electricity?!” Junie shouts, making Nia wince.

“Hm?” Fidel pauses, looking back from his place farther ahead. “Oh! Yes, aren’t those incredible? Ash is pretty taken with them. You humans have come up with some amazing technology.”

“How’re they…holding the electricity?” Tobias asks, clearly curious but not wanting to make it obvious. He looks at Nia and Junie, the two humans in the tunnel.

Junie holds up her wings. “Don’t look at me!”

Nia’s brow furrows as she tries to remember elementary school lessons from over a decade ago. “W-Well. In the human world I think electricity runs through a…wire? And it heats up until it’s so hot that it glows. I think that’s how it worked with old bulbs, at least.”

“But where does the electricity come from?” Junie asks. “They don’t have outlets and wires and stuff here.”

“Our electric type residents give us the energy we need,” Fidel answers, waiting patiently farther down the hall. “Will has been trying to set up electric lighting in all the buildings, but it’s difficult with only a few electric types living here and such a big area to cover. He also has the tendency to get distracted by other projects, so for now this one is on hold.”

“I get that. I’m easily distracted too,” Junie says, tracking a dust mote as it floats by.

“Speaking of…” Fidel says. His voice is light, but he tilts his head in a clear bid for them to keep moving.

“Oh! Right!” Nia hurries to catch up to Fidel.

The tunnel goes a bit farther into the mountainside before opening up to a large room, also dimly lit by electric lanterns. There are three more tunnels leading out of the room, and Nia wonders for a moment what kind of rooms they lead to and how deep they go.

A table sits in the middle of this room, with round cuts of stone positioned around it to act as stools. There’s also a large bookshelf full of tomes against the far wall, and a desk covered with papers at its side.

Hovering at the desk is Will. The yamask is crowded close to someone Nia thinks, for a moment, is a decoration rather than a Pokemon. They almost look like a mix between a totem pole—all colorful geometric patterns and black accents—and a…bird? They have thin, angular wings, and bring to mind art that Nia had seen somewhere in the human world. Maybe Native American or South American pieces? They have no hands, so they’re holding onto a few of the papers with psychic energy. The two of them are murmuring to each other, deep in discussion.

Fidel clears his throat.

Will’s thoughtful frown vanishes as he looks up. “Ah, come in, come in! It’s good to see you three again.”

Will hands his own papers over to the totem-bird, then leaves their side to greet the newcomers. He shakes Nia’s hand, skin cold in the brief moment of contact, and nods with a warm smile at Tobias and Junie.

“Good to see you too!” Junie chirps. “Nice digs you’ve got here.”

Will chuckles. “Thank you. It’s not much, but it works well enough. We wanted to build a safe inner space in case the outer homes became uninhabitable in poor weather, but it doubles as a great area for our research. And for discussing more, ah, sensitive topics.”

The totem-bird tilts their way at that, looking at them with a single cyan eye. Then they wordlessly take the papers they’d been reading and hover down one of the tunnels until they’re out of sight.

Will gestures to the table. “Would you like to sit? I hear you all had a long journey yesterday.”

“We did!” Junie says. She sits first on one of the stools, and then—when that’s too short for her to see over—opts instead to perch on the edge of the table itself. “I thought my feet were gonna fall off.”

“We carried you half the way!” Tobias protests, taking a seat for himself.

“Nia did.”

“You don’t weigh a lot,” Nia says, taking a seat too. “But we were definitely happy to see this place. Thank you for letting us stay for a few days.”

“Of course,” Will says. “Any human—or friend of humans—is a friend of ours. Our little settlement has grown a lot in the past few months, but we’re always happy to see new faces.”

“And yet somehow everything here is free,” Tobias says, almost casual if not for the accusatory stare he’s sending Will’s way.

Will sits down across from Nia, placing his golden mask face-up on the table. Unsettling human eyes stare blankly at the rock ceiling. “We have quite a few of our people acting as gatherers, and we’re working on building an agricultural system for this climate as well. So we don’t need to buy much to survive.”

“But you buy some of it.”

Nia kicks Tobias lightly under the table, fighting to keep a pleasant expression on her face. He stubbornly refuses to look her way.

“We do,” Will agrees. “We sell some of the goods the artisans make here, like our soaps, tools, and clothes, and that gives us a decent fund for necessities.”

“Human-made goods are considered luxury items,” Fidel adds, taking a spot at Will’s left shoulder, like a second-in-command at a guild. Even from his place on the floor, he’s taller than everyone sitting on the stools. “Humans craft differently than Pokemon do.”

“They really bring in that much coin?” Tobias asks, clearly doubtful.

“Dude,” Junie says, looking both amused and exasperated.

Will laughs. “Tobias, if I’ve done something to earn such distrust, you’re more than welcome to ask me about it directly. Or in private, if you prefer.”

Tobias’ face flushes, embarrassed to be called out. But he just huffs and crosses his arms, leaning back as far as he can on the stool without falling off.

“Look, you haven’t done anything…wrong, really. You just make a lot of promises that I’m not convinced you can keep, and you’re so vague about everything. Plus, you’re, y’know.”

Tobias gestures vaguely at Will.

Will just seems amused by this conversation. He raises his brows. “I’m..?”

“That!” Tobias says, pointing with a scowl. “You have all the reason in the world to get mad about me being so suspicious of you, but you aren’t.”

Nia peeks at Will, embarrassed and guilty and yet somehow a little relieved that Tobias is just putting everything out there.

Will hums, leaning forward to rest his chin on interlaced hands. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get angry with you for being cautious. I actually think a bit of suspicion is healthy when dealing with those you don’t know well.”

Nia blinks at Will, surprised. He’s always seemed so welcoming, so Nia had assumed he was more like her and just put his trust into people.

Tobias makes a low sound, unconvinced.

“As for being vague and making promises?” Will’s smile turns a little sad, a little self-deprecating. “I suppose in a way, you’re correct about that.”

Tobias doesn’t reply, waiting for Will to elaborate.

“While we are looking into all the leads we can, we don’t have as many answers as I would like to have by this point.”

“But you said you could get us home,” Nia says, voice small.

Will locks eyes with her. “And I promise you I will. That’s why I’m all right with making such promises despite not knowing exactly how I will achieve them. This is all I care about in this world. In a way, it is my life’s work. And I’m determined to accomplish it and return us home, no matter what.”

Nia nods, trying to swallow the uncertainty in her chest. There’s so much conviction in Will’s voice, a fire in his eyes, that she can’t help but believe him.

Tobias, on the other hand, still seems unsatisfied.

“And the funds to build this place?” Tobias asks. “You didn’t have any artisan ‘mon or goods to sell until after it was made, right?”

“Correct. I saved up for years to get the money, doing odd jobs and the like,” Will answers. “And I made quite a few friends over that time who were willing to help me get it started.“

“Like myself,” Fidel confirms, smiling. “Will and I were friends before we started working towards the same goal. He’s the one who told me all about the human world.”

“And that’s why you want to go to the human world with Asher?” Junie asks. “Because Will is?”

Fidel’s happy expression fades. “I decided long ago to follow Will, but like most of the other natural-born Pokemon who want to cross over, this world’s deterioration is definitely a factor. I…worry. About Asher growing up here. Perhaps the human world will be kinder.”

“I don’t know if the human world would be kinder, really. I like this place better, personally.” Junie glances at Nia. “But to each their own, I guess.”

“The human world can be plenty nice,” Nia protests.

“Even if they don’t turn into humans when they cross over?” Tobias asks.

Nia opens her mouth, then closes it, looking away. Which she knows is an answer in itself.

Fidel doesn’t seem surprised. “Even if we don’t turn into humans ourselves, we always have our illusions to rely on. They’ve gotten us this far.”

“I’m sure we can get you set up just fine,” Will says, all confidence. “I’ve learned a few things about making a new life in a new world since coming here, and I was doing just fine in the human world before.”

Nia perks up at that. “Oh! Right! You probably remember your human life since you’re a yamask, right?”

“What did you do before becoming a Pokemon?” Junie asks curiously. “Were you like a motivational speaker or something?”

“I was an accountant,” Will laughs. “Incredibly boring work, I’m afraid. I’m more interested in knowing about you all! Nia, you said in your letter that you remembered a bit about your human life after falling ill, correct?”

“Yes!” Nia leans over the table in her excitement. She’s shared a few of her memories with Tobias, and he sort of gets it since he lost his own family, but not completely. He wasn’t human, after all. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember some things about my family! I have a mom and a brother, Clay. And my best friend Toni is basically my sister.”

“That’s wonderful,” Will says, smiling warmly. “I can tell you’re close by how you talk about them. I’m sure they miss you terribly.”

Nia feels a stab of grief in her chest, so abrupt that it steals her breath away. She doesn’t like thinking about that, about her family wondering where she is and when she’s coming back and if she’s okay. “Y-Yeah. I really miss them, too.”

She misses joking around with Clay and Toni. Misses talking about school and everyday nonsense with her mom. Misses their house and their old swingset and the comforting routine of her human life.

Slowly, Nia sits back on her stool again.

“It’ll be all right,” Will says, reaching across the table to pat Nia’s hand. Despite the cold, it’s comforting. Almost parental. “We’ll get you back home to your family. I promise you that.”

Nia gives him a watery smile in response.

“Have you recovered any memories?” Will asks, looking at Junie next.

Junie cringes. “Uh. Yeah, some. I don’t, um. Really wanna go back, though.”

“Is that so?” Will asks, visibly surprised.

Junie opens her mouth, probably to deflect. Then her eyes flick to Nia, and she sighs. “…Look, I don’t have a lot I want to go back to, okay? I’m still too young to live on my own and I don’t have the best relationship with my parents. They don’t  really…like me. They think I’m too annoying.”

Nia hears Fidel suck in a breath. Will frowns. Even Tobias seems offended on Junie’s behalf. Nia tries to parse the words she just heard.

Too annoying? Sure, kids can be a bit much, but what kind of parent doesn’t like their own child? And openly enough for their child to state it as surely as the sky is blue or the grass is green? Like it’s fact?

“But they love you, right?” Nia asks, quiet.

Junie scoffs. “Sure. Maybe. Doesn’t matter if I can’t tell, though.”

There are a few moments of heavy silence.

Nia suddenly understands Junie’s adoration of Bolat. The skarmory is clearly as fond of her as she is of him, which must’ve been…new, for her.

Nia’s heart aches.

Fidel speaks up first, expression pained. “I’m sorry to hear that, Junie. No child should ever feel unloved by their parents.”

“Guess my parents didn’t get the memo,” Junie mumbles. “Probably happy to be rid of me, honestly.”

“Then that is their loss,” Will says, sharper than Nia expects.

Another moment of uncomfortable silence. Even Junie and Tobias look surprised by Will’s anger, sudden and biting. Nia would’ve expected Fidel to be angry, being a parent himself, but…

Will takes a deep breath, then lets it out, smoothing one hand across the tabletop. The other latches onto his golden mask. “…Apologies. I’m afraid that’s a bit of a sore spot for me. Well, for the both of us, I suppose.”

“Did…” Nia hesitates. She doesn’t want to be nosy, but… “Do you have kids? In the human world?”

Will smiles. “I do. Well, I expect I do by now.”

“You expect you do?” Tobias asks.

“When I first came to this world, my wife was pregnant. If time passes at the same rate in both worlds, then our daughter was born years ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nia murmurs.

“Thank you.” Will’s voice is rough, so he clears his throat before speaking again. “You can imagine why I’m so set on finding a way home.”

The yamask’s gaze shifts down. He strokes wispy black fingers down his mask, tracing the lifeless eyes etched there.

“I did not have the greatest parents myself, Junie,” Will continues. “But I was…so excited to be a father. I just can’t understand parents like yours. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that.”

Junie shifts on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “Oh. Um…thanks? I’m not too broken up about it anymore. I think I like this place better anyways.”

Will looks up at that. “…I suppose that’s good. Just remember that there’s more than your parents’ disapproval waiting for you in the human world. They matter much less when you’re an adult, and I wouldn’t want you to avoid returning to the human world for something so temporary. You still have a whole life ahead of you.”

Junie looks like she wants this conversation to be over, so she just nods. “I guess I can understand why you want to go back so badly, if you have a wife and kid you actually like.”

“I just want to know they’re all right,” Will says. He gives Nia a sad smile. “I expect you want the same, with your own family. To see them again. Laugh with them and hold them. Grow old with them.”

“More than anything,” Nia says, throat tight.

It’s one thing to have someone be sympathetic to her situation, but it’s different knowing they actually understand where you’re coming from. That they’re feeling the exact same pain you are. Even Hazel, sweet as she is, has already established a life here in the Pokemon world. She has a husband and kids and grandkids. A business and a life. She’s lived here for decades. It’s just not the same.

But Will gets it. He gets it.

“Now,” Will says. He straightens, face falling back into a more neutral expression. “Much as I’d love to sit and reminisce, I believe you came here for a reason, yes? You mentioned to Fidel that you have important information regarding the natural disasters.”

Nia has to take a moment to collect herself, so Tobias starts. “Yeah. Recently, we learned the cause for…well, everything that’s happening in our world, basically. Not just the natural disasters. Nia thought you might be able to help us with a solution.”

Will exchanges a serious look with Fidel. “That’s…certainly more than we were expecting. Please, tell us what you know.”

Tobias glances at Nia. She gives him a weak smile and a thumbs-up, so he gestures with his chin for her to start. They’re getting good at summarizing everything they’ve learned so far, after retelling the sequence of events to Maggie, August, and Junie.

“You know the letter I sent a while ago?” Nia asks. “About Giratina trying to pull me into the stream?”

Will’s expression darkens. Fidel, behind him, frowns but doesn’t look surprised. Will must keep him in the loop.

“Yes?”

“I did some research,” Tobias says. “And realized there was someone who could give us some answers about Giratina. A shedinja to the south, named Edme.”

Will’s face twitches, brow furrowing before smoothing out again.

“We got sidetracked on a different mission first, though,” Nia says. “And long story short, Giratina sort of…helped us out?”

With how Will had insisted humans avoid Giratina at all costs, Nia expects the yamask to look surprised.

Fidel does.

Will simply narrows his eyes, calm and collected. “You’re certain about that? That he was trying to help you?”

Nia exchanges a look with Tobias.

“Preeetty sure,” Tobias drawls. “We probably would’ve died on that mission without him.”

Fidel’s ears pin back, alarm passing over his face. He looks at the three of them in turn, as if to make sure they’re all right.

Will simply hums. “Interesting.”

That’s…it?

“That’s it?” Tobias asks, echoing Nia’s thoughts. His tone is more caustic than the voice in her head, though. “You were so against anyone even talking to Giratina in Ghatha, but you believe that he was helping us? Just like that?”

“Oh, I don’t believe that he helped you out of the goodness of his heart,” Will says, waving the idea away. “I can believe that he helped you, as long as there’s another motive behind his actions.”

“You’re…not wrong,” Nia admits. “I, uh. Actually talked to him, in Shivergleam.”

Will frowns. “You talked to Giratina?”

“Through a reflection?” Fidel asks.

Tobias snorts. “Nope. Edme tricked us and Giratina pulled Nia into his dimension for a little chat.”

“What?” Will floats off his seat. “You were pulled into the Distortion World?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Fidel asks.

“What did he say to you?” Will cuts in.

“W-Well…” Nia leans back from the intense expression on Will’s face. “He told me his side of the story, I guess? Everyone thinks he was banished to the Distortion World because he attacked another legendary, but Giratina and Edme said that wasn’t true.”

“Likely story,” Will murmurs. He shakes his head. “Continue, please.”

“Um. He said that the fight between him and Cresselia started because Arceus went dormant, and the other legendaries panicked. Since more and more of them were falling asleep and they didn’t know why, tensions were, uh. High. He told the other legendaries off for abandoning the mortal realm and Cresselia attacked him. He was just defending himself.”

Will makes a doubtful sound in his throat, clearly not buying it. Fidel seems more open to the idea, frowning but listening intently.

“The Lake Trio banished him to the Distortion World in all the chaos,” Tobias picks up. “And now Giratina can’t do anything, since he’s stuck there. But he thinks he knows why everything is falling apart—why the legendaries are going dormant, why the mystery dungeons are forming, why the natural disasters are increasing, even why humans are showing up.”

That makes Will straighten, eyes flashing. “They’re all connected? Surely us humans don’t have anything to do with it. That’s just fear-mongering.”

“We aren’t causing the disasters,” Nia agrees. “We’re just…another symptom of the root problem, like everything else.”

“And that problem is?”

Nia tries to remember how Giratina had described it. “Giratina said that his world, the Distortion World, is kind of like a…shell. It’s wrapped around the Pokemon world, which would be the fruit. It encases it. Protects it.”

Will nods.

“And it has…borders, somehow. The…outer skin of that shell, I guess. Giratina said that everything that’s happening is from that border weakening.”

“Weakening?” Fidel asks. “Like it’s…wearing thin?”

Tobias shakes his head. “The border is going to break. Something is going to rip right through it and crack the shell wide open.”

“Going to?” Will echoes.

Nia nods. “He said it hasn’t actually happened yet, because time doesn’t work normally there. But the closer we get to that point in time here, the more severe everything gets.”

“And when we reach that point in time…” Will murmurs.

“He pretty much implied the world would end. That it would be a thousand times worse than what we’re currently seeing.”

Fidel’s red mane bristles, like a cat. He looks horrified.

Will, on the other hand, just seems deep in thought. He has one hand at his chin and the other on his mask.

“What could cause something like that?” He murmurs.

“Giratina said it’d probably have to be a legendary,” Nia says. “Since it’d have to be something super powerful, and most Pokemon don’t even have the ability to affect the border. It’s more like…a sheet of life energy or aura, rather than a tangible, touchable thing.”

“But aren’t most legends already dormant?” Fidel asks.

“They are,” Tobias says, dragging a heavy hand over his face to pinch at his eyes. “So we don’t know how it’s going to happen.”

“Is it predetermined?” Will asks. “Inevitable?”

Nia nods. “I suggested trying to stop it before it happened—whatever it is—but Giratina seemed pretty positive that it was set in stone.”

Everyone falls silent as they digest that. Nia can hear the quiet hum of the electric lanterns on the walls. Will is absentmindedly tracing the lines of his mask, brow furrowed. Fidel is glancing anxiously at the tunnel they arrived through, as if itching to go find Asher. Tobias is staring at the lanterns, tapping his claws against the tabletop. Junie, probably wanting a bit of comfort, hops off the table and into Nia’s lap. Nia makes room for her and cards her fingers through the bird’s soft feathers.

“Giratina said that all of this is connected to humans showing up in this world, correct?” Will finally asks.

Nia nods. “Giratina said that the human world—well, a few different worlds, actually—are right next to this one. Like…fruits on a vine. And since the border is weakening, human souls are starting to…slip through, somehow?“

“Mew’s the one who transforms humans into Pokemon and suppresses their memories so they can acclimate better,” Tobias adds. “They were working together, according to Giratina.”

“That would explain how it was done,” Will murmurs. “Considering she is supposedly the progenitor of all Pokemon.”

“Giratina said Mew transformed every lost human she could find,” Nia says. “Any that she missed, turned into, uh…yamask.”

She feels a bit awkward explaining that. Giratina’s words linger in her skull, that yamask have a harder time acclimating to the Pokemon world. That they’re not…built for it, really. Not fully accepted.

Will barks a bitter laugh. “Well, that explains a few things. So if human souls are slipping through without intent, then we are here entirely by accident?”

“Seems like it,” Tobias snorts. “Yet Giratina still decided it’s apparently Nia’s job to fix this mess.”

“And how does he propose you do that?” Fidel asks, wary.

“Well…since the border is made of life energy, and we’re pretty sure it’s going to break no matter what…”

“Our only idea is to fix it immediately after it breaks, before the damage is fully done,” Tobias finishes. “Most legendaries are already dormant, but there are two that were asleep naturally before Arceus fell.”

Fidel’s eyes widen with understanding. “Yveltal and Xerneas?”

“The gods of…destruction and new life, correct?” Will asks.

Nia nods. “Giratina is hoping that since the two of them were already in a 1,000-year sleep cycle, that we can wake them early somehow.“

“Wake Xerneas early,” Tobias corrects. “Yveltal would probably just make everything worse.”

“Hm.” Will tilts his head. “I suppose he would.”

“So that’s our plan.” Nia says, the words feeling anticlimactic. “Right now we’re just trying to find Xerneas.”

“Which I assume is no small feat, if no one has stumbled across her yet,” Will says.

“That’s what we were hoping to get your help with,” Nia admits. “We have no idea where to start. Giratina only said that she should be here somewhere, in the Pokemon world.”

“August, our guild leader, is looking into it with the archivists, but Nia thought you might have different sources of information than they do.”

Will doesn’t answer right away, looking back down at the golden mask on the table. His hands are steepled in front of his mouth. “Nia, did you ask Giratina about returning to the human world while you were in his dimension?“

Nia blinks, caught off-guard by the sudden change in topic. “U-Um. Yeah, I did. He said that attempting anything like that while the border is unstable would basically be suicide.”

“Odd,” Will murmurs. “I would think it would be easier to travel between worlds while the border is weakened.“

Nia had thought the same thing. The border weakening is how they got here in the first place, after all. But either Giratina is wrong about his own domain, or…

Nia frowns, a prick of unease making her shift in her seat. “Do you think he was lying?”

“Perhaps. If Giratina is truly so desperate for your help, Nia, then he wouldn’t want to risk you leaving before the border is fixed. Making you too afraid to even try hopping back to the human world is certainly one way to accomplish that.”

“But why would he need to lie at all?” Junie asks. “This is Nia we’re talking about here. There’s no way she would just leave everyone behind while this world is falling apart. She’d obviously help fix the border before going back to the human world.”

“Either Giratina doesn’t know Nia’s character very well,” Will says, looking up to meet Nia’s eyes. His expression is grave. “Or…”

Nia’s ears pin back under the weight of Will’s gaze. “O-Or what..?”

Will is silent for a long, long moment. “…Or he’s worried that despite your character, you won’t fix the border if you know the consequences of that decision.”

The…consequences?

“Think about it. Fixing the border means sealing the only known entry point between the human world and this one. Which is also our only known exit point.”

It takes a moment for the implications to sink in.

Nia stares at Will, stricken. “If we fix the border…we’ll be stuck in this world forever?”

“It’s a possibility.”

Nia shakes her head. No. No, there has to be a way. Some way to fix this world without cutting off their only route home.

“Breathe, Nia,” Fidel says, quiet.

Nia had almost forgotten the zoroark was here. She looks at him, uncomprehending. He takes an exaggerated breath, waiting for her to match him before releasing it. Once, twice, three times. Slowly, her rising emotions plateau into something manageable.

“S-So then what do we do?” Nia whispers. “I-I can’t—there has to be some way to do both. Some way to fix this world and still get us home.”

“We don’t know that fixing the border will cut off your only way back to the human world,” Tobias points out.

“True,” Will says. He is clearly deep in thought, but he doesn’t seem panicked by this realization. His serene expression calms something in Nia, too. “I had already been looking into methods for traveling between worlds without Giratina’s help anyways, so this is simply another factor to take into consideration.”

“B-But if Giratina thinks it’s impossible—”

“The gods can be wrong just as often as mortals can,” Will says, voice hard.

Nia doesn’t know what to say to that. But strangely, it gives her some hope.

“So…does this mean you’ll help us look for Xerneas?” Tobias asks, eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” Will says, “Whether Giratina is lying or not, the fact of the matter is that we can’t find a way home if we all die from this calamity first. So finding Xerneas to stabilize the border takes priority.”

“How noble of you,” Tobias says, sarcastic.

“It’s basic logic,” Will says with a smile and a shrug. “Of course I want to go home to my world as soon as possible. But first we must survive this world. With any luck, perhaps the answer to one problem will lead us to the answer for the other.”

Will’s confidence that they can still do both—that they can fix this world and find a way back home—feels like a soothing balm over Nia’s frayed nerves. She definitely doesn’t want to abandon this world and everyone in it to a terrible fate, but she doesn’t want to seal away their one chance at returning home to the human world, either.

There has to be a way for everything to work out.

“Thank you,” Nia breathes. She realizes she’s holding Junie a bit too tightly, and relaxes her grip.

“So we’re officially switching focus?” Fidel asks, looking at Will.

The yamask nods. “Yes. Number one priority is to track down Xerneas or Yveltal.”

There’s a beat of quiet.

“Isn’t that the, uh, destruction guy?” Junie asks. “Didn’t we say we don’t want to wake him up?”

“Correct,” Will says. “But if we can find one legendary, their counterpart will likely be nearby, yes?”

They all look to Tobias and Fidel, the two natural-born Pokemon in the room.

Tobias’ face twists in thought. “That…sounds right, but I haven’t heard any stories about Xerneas or Yveltal in forever.”

“I believe legend states that they do sleep near one another,” Fidel confirms.

Will claps, straightening up with a smile. “Excellent. So we have our next step, yes? We locate Xerneas, wake her, and enlist her aid in fixing the border once the break occurs. Do we have a guesstimate for when that will happen?”

“W-Well, Giratina said it would definitely happen within the year. But I don’t think he was sure other than that? It could be sooner.”

Will nods. “Then we shouldn’t delay.”

“Would you like me to notify the research team?” Fidel asks.

“Please do.”

Fidel rises to his paws, shoots Nia, Tobias, and Junie a quick smile, then lopes down the tunnel the totem-bird had disappeared into earlier.

“Thank you so much for helping us with this,” Nia sighs, turning back to Will. “You don’t know how much of a relief it is having your support.”

“Of course,” Will says with a comforting smile. “Thank you for coming to me.“

Will grabs his mask and moves off his stool. Nia and Tobias follow his lead, getting to their feet. Junie hops onto Nia’s shoulder to hitch a ride.

“So what now?” Tobias asks, glancing down the tunnel Fidel and the totem-bird researcher had vanished into. “We go back to the guild and you let us know if you find anything?”

“You’re welcome to stay here at the settlement for a bit,” Will says. “While I doubt we’ll be able to locate either legendary immediately, it should only take a few days for us to give you a better idea of where to search.”

“That soon?” Nia asks.

Will floats a bit higher, looking proud. “My research team has access to a wide array of resources. Give us a couple of days and we can give you at least a vague idea of where to start looking.”

Nia smiles. “That sounds great. Thank you, Will.”

“Of course,” Will gestures towards the tunnel they entered from, as if to guide them back outside. “We’ll be sure to keep you updated, but let Fidel or I know if you need anything in the meantime.“

“Why the rush, Will?”

Nia nearly trips over her own paws, not expecting the distinctly feminine voice from the mouth of one of the inner tunnels. It sounds strangely familiar too, light and teasing with a sharp undertone, but surely it can’t be—

“Rosalind?” Tobias hisses under his breath.

Sure enough, there’s a hatterene leaning casually against the opening of one of the tunnels, her pink and blue colors bright against the natural tones of the cave. She has that same sly smile curling at her lips, dark eyes glittering beneath the hat-like piece on her head.

Will squeezes his eyes shut, looking distinctly irritated for a moment before pasting on a smile and turning to meet Rosalind’s eyes. “Rosalind. Finished with your tea?”

Rosalind laughs, dainty and light, then shuffles forward to meet them. “I was wondering who you had to meet with so urgently. You know I like to stay in the loop on these things, Will.”

“That I do,” Will sighs. After a moment of hesitation, he turns to present Rosalind to them. “Nia, Tobias, Junie, this is—"

“We’ve met,” Tobias says, tense.

Will falters, frowning as he looks between the three of them and Rosalind. “…Is that so?”

“It is! These three are some of my cutest little workers.”

“How…nice,” Will says, stilted.

Nia understands the awkward tension in the air. She feels unsure about this whole situation, too. Rosalind isn’t exactly shy about being a shady underworld informant, so why is she here with Will?

For a moment, Nia considers Tobias’ ever-present suspicion of the yamask. Glancing at her partner, who has yet to look away from Rosalind, it’s clear that any rapport Will had built during their previous conversation has been wiped away. And for once, she can’t really blame him. What would Will need Rosalind around for?

…Then again, they needed Rosalind’s help to find the outlaw trio that Tobias is after. Who’s to say Will doesn’t have a similar arrangement?

Nia takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. They all have their reasons.

Rosalind’s dark eyes focus on Nia, and her smile grows. Right. Empath. “Good to see you again, Team Scarlet.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Tobias grumbles. He glares openly between Rosalind and Will. “Why are you here? How do you two know each other?”

“How forward of you!” Rosalind mock gasps, putting the hand of her hair-tentacle-arm thing over her mouth. “Don’t you know a lady’s affairs are private?”

Will sighs again. “Rosalind and I are…acquaintances.”

“Is that all we are? Come now, Will, we’ve known each other for years.”

“Rosalind.”

Rosalind smiles sweetly, clearly enjoying herself.

Nia isn’t sure how to feel about…any of this, really.

“Fine, fine.” Rosalind looks back to them. “Consider us…business partners, of a sort. You know that I like to stay informed about all the goings-on in the world. I can’t let an entire group of humans go off on their own without knowing what they’re up to, can I? I’m not very fond of surprises, after all.”

Nia…supposes that makes sense. Still, she exchanges a guarded, doubtful look with Tobias.

“So you get information. What does Will get out of your…partnership?” Tobias asks.

“He already told you some of his assets came from old friends, correct?” Rosalind says.

“You were listening to our conversation?” Junie blurts.

“Yes. A bit rude, perhaps, but it’s also rude to leave a guest waiting.”

“What do you want, Rosalind?” Will asks, sounding very tired.

“So impatient,” Rosalind tsks. Then she smiles at Tobias. “Since fate decided we should cross paths, I just wanted to offer a little tidbit of information that Team Scarlet might be interested in.”

Tobias straightens, eyes flashing. “Is this about..?”

“It is. Are you interested?“

Tobias glances at Will. “Not here. But yeah.”

Rosalind hums. “Fair. Will, darling, would you mind giving us a moment?”

Will does in fact look like he minds, but after a few seconds he relents with a stiff smile. “Of course.” He turns back to the three of them. “I’m going to confer with the research team. I’ll speak with you all later.”

Nia nods with a shaky smile. “Sounds good. Thanks again, Will.”

“Thank you as well,” Will says. Then he turns and heads down the tunnel Fidel had disappeared through, sparing Rosalind one last glance before vanishing.

Rosalind looks back to them. “Now, where were we?”

“First,” Tobias says, arms crossing. “What’s the price?”

Rosalind laughs, louder than earlier . More genuine. “You catch on quickly, don’t you? Good.“

Nia exchanges a worried look with Junie. Rosalind makes her nervous in the best of circumstances, but especially when they’re “negotiating.”

“My price is low this time around. I won’t even draw up a contract, seeing as this meetup was unexpected.” Rosalind leans over them, closer to their faces. Nia leans back, gulping.

“Personal space?” Junie mumbles.

“All I want,” Rosalind whispers, and the quiet tone puts Nia even more on edge. “Is for you to inform me immediately if our dearest Will makes a move to go to the human world.”

Nia blinks. “…W-What? But we aren’t—we’re only trying to find Xerneas right now. He can’t make the jump until we fix—“

“Can’t he?” Rosalind asks, smile dropping. She tilts her head, locking eyes with Nia.

Nia feels her stomach drop.

What exactly is Rosalind implying? That Will isn’t going to do what he says he is? That he’s going to try to go to the human world without fixing the Pokemon world first? He wouldn’t do that, not when it would mean disaster for everyone.

He…wouldn’t, right?

“What do you know?” Tobias asks.

“Mm. Nothing substantial.” Rosalind straightens up with a pleasant smile. “Just a hunch. I’ve known Will for years. He’s more desperate than he appears.”

“E-Even then, he wouldn’t do that,“ Nia protests. “It’s not safe to try until the border is fixed! For either world.”

“I wonder. Grief has it’s own kind of logic, to those desperate enough.”

Nia falls silent, wishing Junie was in her arms to hug instead of perched on her shoulder.

“Anything that sets off alarm bells, you tell me about immediately,” Rosalind reiterates. “Deal?”

“W-Why?” Nia can’t help asking. “Why do you want to know?”

Rosalind tilts her head. “Because that idiot is either going to make a horrible mistake with repercussions that I do not want to deal with, or he is going to be my ticket to safety when this world falls apart. Either way, he cannot be trusted to act in my best interests.”

Nia falls silent. She desperately wants to defend Will, but she also feels like arguing with Rosalind is liable to get her mysteriously injured. Or worse.

“Deal,” Tobias says. “If we notice anything, we’ll let you know as soon as possible.”

Rosalind smiles. “Good. In that case, here’s your payment. Are you familiar with Kaleido Bay?”

That does sound familiar. Nia looks to Tobias.

“The city to the south, right?” He asks, frowning. “Where the road meets the sea?”

“That’s it,” Rosalind says, turning to stroll along the wall of the room. “It’s had trouble with damages recently due to natural disasters, but it’s a lovely little city. Lots of shops.”

“Okay?” Tobias says with a scowl. “What about it?”

“It won’t be to your liking, Charmander,” Rosalind says, reaching out to tap at one of the lantern lights. “Half the city is floating above the waves and other half lies beneath them. However, it does hold something of interest, other than shops.”

Nia glances at Tobias. He’s tracking Rosalind closely, fists balled.

“Kaleido Bay, funny enough, holds a prison under its waves, reserved for particularly dangerous criminals."

Oh. Oh no. Nia’s stomach sinks.

“They caught them?” Tobias rasps, taking a step forward.

“They caught one of them,” Rosalind says, turning back to them. “The pangoro, Dismas. He’s under tight security, but if you’d like to talk to him I can arrange a conversation.”

“Yes.” Tobias doesn’t even hesitate, taking another step towards the hatterene. “Please.”

“Tobias,” Nia murmurs, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

He jolts, as if he forgot she was even there.

“Are you sure you’ll be…okay? Seeing him?” Nia whispers.

She can’t help thinking about Tobias at that crobat’s home in the desert. Overwhelmed by grief and destroying the gifts left on the outlaw’s grave. She’d never seen him so…lost in himself before. It was scary.

Tobias swallows. He looks away. “I have so many questions. I have to talk to him, Nia.”

Nia squeezes his arm once before letting go. “…Okay.”

Junie snuggles closer to Nia’s neck. Nia appreciates the warm point of contact and leans her head into the touch.

Rosalind smiles. “Excellent. In that case, go to the prison in Kaleido and ask to speak to Jude, on behalf of Rosie.”

“Rosie?” Junie mumbles, just loud enough for Nia to hear.

“When Jude arrives, tell him you need to speak with prisoner D22. And no, he does not get a choice. He either lets you in, or I tell his superiors about Sahara City.”

Nia doesn’t want to know what this Jude did in Sahara City or just how much trouble he’ll be in if Rosalind rats him out. Even the vague threat directed at someone else sends goosebumps down Nia’s arms.

Rosalind is terrifying.

Nia can tell Tobias is unnerved too, his shoulders tense, but he simply nods. “Got it. Anything else?“

“No, that should be it.” Rosalind smiles at them. “You’re free to leave. Good luck.”

Without looking away from the hatterene, Tobias herds Nia and Junie towards the tunnel they’d initially entered through.

“Actually, there is one more thing,” Rosalind calls, stopping them in their tracks.

Nia peeks over her shoulder, past Tobias. Rosalind has moved over to the desk with papers scattered atop it, looking idly through them.

“Remember that I do know you’re human now, Riolu. Rookidee.” Rosalind’s voice is calm, but Nia’s breath catches all the same. “And rumors can be a nasty, nasty thing to deal with nowadays. So step carefully.”

“Hey!” Tobias barks. In the low light of the cave, Nia can see embers glowing through the thin skin of his jaw. “I said we’d keep up our end of the deal.”

Rosalind smiles sweetly, looking up at them from across the room. “Then we shouldn’t have any issues, should we?”

Tobias growls under his breath and nudges Nia down the tunnel. Nia does actually stumble over her own paws this time, in her haste to leave.

They’re all silent as they exit the tunnel into the outer building, then even farther outside into early afternoon air. It feels…wrong, for the day to be bright and sunny, all blue sky and cool, fresh air, after such heavy discussions.

Nia takes a deep breath, leaning against the warm stone wall of the village. Tobias follows. The Pokemon—humans—of the village pass around them, still as carefree as ever. Nia can hear the children they’d passed by earlier shouting and laughing in the distance.

“Anyone else kind of hate Rosalind?” Junie asks.

Nia gives a nervous laughs. “I could do without her jump-scaring us, that’s for sure.”

They both look at Tobias, expecting him to respond as well. Instead, he’s looking out over the trees of the mesa, brow furrowed. Looking south, towards Kaleido Bay.

“…Tobias? You all right?”

Tobias takes a breath, shaking his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Thinking about Kaleido Bay?”

Tobias nods.

“I thought so,” Nia says, quiet. “When are we leaving?”

Tobias looks up at her, surprised.

Nia lifts her brows in return. Does he really think she’s going to let him go on his own? He should know better by now.

Tobias laughs a quiet, humorless laugh. “You know you don’t have to come.“

“You know I am,” Nia murmurs in return, reaching out to take his hand.

Tobias’ mouth twitches with a smile before falling again. “Kaleido should only be a day’s walk south. We could be back in a couple days and see if Will’s found anything by then.”

Nia nods. “So what time?”

“We could leave early tomorrow morning and get there by late afternoon.”

“Okay,” Nia says, closing her eyes as she leans back against the stone wall. Tobias joins her, hand still clasped in her own. Junie is unmoving on Nia’s shoulder.

Quiet falls over them again. Nia imagines they’re both thinking about the same things she is. Finding Xerneas and saving the world from destruction. Will’s promises and Rosalind’s suspicion. Tobias and the outlaw he’s going to talk to all too soon.

Nia wants to believe that everything will turn out okay, but there’s a pit in her stomach all the same.

[soullessbullshit]

I want it on record that I am a proud member of Team "Gabrielle Benele is Completely Unhinged."

This may be a rather lukewarm take, as I don't have as much interaction with the Daggerfall Covenant side of the ESO fandom, but I'm convinced that, like myself until a couple years ago, neither has anyone that has ever earnestly considered her a voice of reason.

Gabrielle is that one character that people assume is put together at first glance because she's intelligent and professionally accomplished, but that perception completely shifts as people gradually discover the laundry list of borderline war crimes she's used those smarts to commit.

Her canonical claims to fame include, with no hyperbole applied:

Singlehandedly breaking into a cult-infested crypt for a talisman rumored to open portals to Oblivion.

Gleefully hacking the warding sequence on one of the most secure vaults in the Covenant and openly admitting that she'd wanted to take a crack for some time upon learning it was named the "Impervious Vault."

Getting banned from the Anchor's Point Inn for setting fire to the hair of a pushy dragonknight who failed to heed her rather upfront request to stop hitting on her (easily the most understandable point on this dissertation).

Losing "teleporting directly to the Evermore Mages' Guild" privileges for a reportedly similar incident.

And, most unnervingly of all, sending a treatise to Covenant generals advising the displacement of beasts and beastfolk in enemy territory to send them rampaging into local settlements as an invasion tactic.

Ya gurl may have more outward tact in professional settings, but there's absolutely no way her dynamic with Darien doesn't involve him reigning her in ethically as often as she reigns him in conversationally. These feral besties are two halves of a whole common sense and I love that for them.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[fannyrosie]

Back in August, my mother, my sister and I did a three day roadtrip to Lake Placid in New York State, where the 1932 and 1980 Winter Olympics were hosted. We hiked and visited Adirondack natural wonders the two first days, but because my health was starting to fail me on the second day, we kept the third one for visiting the Downton Abbey costume exhibition at the Lake Placid Center for the arts.

On our way to the exhibit, we passed by the Pines Inn, formerly known as the St. Moritz Hotel, a hotel built in 1907. I had wanted to stay at that hotel, but my mom refused, saying it was in poor shape and looked haunted on the hotel booking sites (she wasn't wrong, but I love that stuff, as you know). I still insisted for us to at least visit it, and we sure did NOT regret it. We stumbled upon one of the concierges (or new owners, correct me if you see this!), and he loved my outfit so much that he gave us a tour of the hotel, including in areas closed to guests. He told us that Albert Einstein and the Kennedys had been guests at the hotel, that there was n*de sunbathing on the roof in the 1930s and that a lot of the furniture was original. Sadly, after the 80s, the hotel slowly went into decrepitude and abandonment, and many things got stolen and damaged. The new owners are currently working hard to restore the hotel, and it's indeed a lot of work.

Outfit rundown Dress: vintage Ingeborg (Pink House) Velvet michiyuki: vintage Hat: Rudsak with added brooch by Fuwari Gloves: vintage Shoes: old Clarks Bag: second-hand Vivienne Westwood Belt: thrifted Big British stamp brooch: second-hand Jane Marple Small marine cat stamp brooch: Via Carousel Anchor and crest brooches: vintage Earrings: old Dracolite

[undertheorangetree]

To Be Alone With You

Summary- Osferth becomes infatuated with a healer from the continent.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Osferth's got a big old crush. Like he’s down bad. Blood. Minor injuries. Shoddy knowledge of 10th century healing. Blasphemy. Admittedly more plot than porn. Cunnilingus. Masturbation. P in V sex. Against a wall in a church no less.

Author's Note- The fact that Osferth canonically fucks and is good at it to the point where women fight over him lives in my mind rent free. Anyway read the rest on ao3 link is belowww

dividers by me lmao

Osferth likes to think that he's different now. Or at least, that he has changed since first joining Uhtred. He's grown further into himself- his confidence, his ability to be a warrior, that he himself has changed as a whole. He's stronger now and though he still values his faith, it does not feel so all consuming, an anchor around his throat forever reminding him of his bastardry. He is proud of the man he has become, of the one that he continues to grow into, and it feels right that, over time, he has changed for the better.

But he seems to forget all that the moment he lays eyes on her.

She had arrived with a traveling priest from the continent, one who had come with the intention of spreading the word of God to the infamously heretical ealdorman. And though she traveled with a priest and his retinue, she wore no habit. Her hair was loose, catching the waning rays of the sun and he felt his heart stutter in his chest when he caught the colour of it shining in the light. She had caught his eye then, as their little ship docked, and smiled at him so brightly he felt himself fall back into the boy he once was, the cursed baby monk.

Though Uhtred had wanted to throw the whole group out at the first sign of a sermon, he agreed to give them a night in the inn out of respect for how long they had been traveling- after they had paid a small fee, of course- and Osferth had managed to catch her in the tavern later that night.

The words had caught in his throat the moment he tried to speak, but Finan had been with him and it had been easy for him to ask if they could join her and begin a conversation. He had nursed his mug of ale while they spoke, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of her further, and joined Finan in highlighting all that Coccham had to offer. Finan had quickly become drunk, but they had found a joint amusement in that and he had revelled in every smile she cast his way. They learned that she was the priest's healer, having studied in Frankia before deciding to join the priest in order to see what the world had to offer. She told them of her travels to Burgundy, Provence, and the Northern Byzantine Empire, regailing them with stories Osferth could only dream about. Uhtred had joined them midway through the conversation, allowing Osferth the opportunity to join her on her bench, their arms brushing against each other.

By the time morning came, the priest had gone and she had stayed on as their healer. Uhtred offered her a cottage and the promise to retrieve everything she could possibly need. He had grinned at Osferth the moment she turned her back on them, raising his eyebrows playfully, and he had felt his face begin to burn from how obvious his immediate infatuation must have been.

At first, he simply admired her from afar. Though he is proud of all the progress he has made to become the man he is now, that all seems to melt away when he is around her. More often than not, he stumbles over his words when he tries to speak to her, face burning scarlet and heart beating faster in his chest. It is clear that the others know of his infatuation, as they do everything in their power to facilitate some kind of interaction between them. Inviting him over when they are speaking to her, offering her his assistance whenever she needs it. Finan had gone so far as to shove him in her direction whenever he felt like causing trouble, though thank God he had only stumbled into her once. She had done little more than laugh then but he had avoided her for two days out of sheer humiliation.

It is safer to simply keep his distance. Though he enjoys talking to her- more than enjoys it, if he is honest with himself- he does little more than embarrass himself when he tries. He wants more, he wants everything, but for now he will settle for admiration. Distance.

It seems kinder. To both himself and her.

He can see her now, walking back to her cottage with a basket full of herbs and flowers she must have picked nearby the river. There is a woman walking with her, one he doesn't know well enough to know her name, but they are laughing as if they are close friends. The other woman reaches out to rest a hand on her arm and he watches longingly as she raises her own to clutch at the other woman's fingers. He cannot hear what they're saying over the echoing clack of the wooden swords the boys are using to practice- a sparring match he is admittedly supposed to be monitoring- but she has a pull on him he can't quite explain and he can’t bring himself to look away.

It comes with consequences.

Read the rest here

[menubot]

In 1968, Lump Crabmeat Cocktail for only $1.40 at Anchor Inn Seafood Restaurant http://menus.nypl.org/menus/27678

[venussaidso]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘴 — 𝘈𝘚𝘏𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘐𝘚

Johnlock is an Ashwini-Ashwini ship. Dr John Watson, played by Ashwini Moon Martin Freeman, is the known fictional physician companion to Sherlock Holmes, played by Ashwini Moon Benedict Cumberbatch, who is a sociophathic investigator. The deities that rule this nakshatra are physicians and Ketu nakshatras are known to be cast as mystery-solving investigators. Sherlock's high intelligence is in connection to Ashwini, the nakshatra known for speed and an active mind.

Clara Oswald is to the Twelfth Doctor is what James Watson is to Sherlock Holmes, I just realized. The Twelfth Doctor and Sherlock Holmes portray a similar archetype of Ashwini; both prone to isolation, their intellect and sense of superiority being at the expense of their human emotions, the two being driven by their genius and recklessness. As stated before, Ashwini nakshatra is related to an active intelligence. And it is interesting that the companions they form a deep love and respect for are also Ashwini natives themselves.

Clara Oswald and James Watson embody another side to this Ketu nakshatra which balances and challenges the antisocial genius archetype. As both their partners are abrasive and cold, they counter that by bringing emotional insights and grounding foundation to the dynamic while still being able to keep up with their speedy wit (specifically Clara with Twelve).

For Sherlock Holmes and James Watson, they function like complementary twins— being opposites that fit together. They become inseparable because they offer what the other lacks. These two literally have a deep, unhealthy attachment to one another. But it's not as worse as Clara and Twelve.

Because Clara Oswald and Twelve's relationship evolves to them literally becoming mirrors of each other. As Ketu sucks things in, we see how much Clara takes on his personality through her evolution. She adopts his personality, as he does hers. Their connection becoming so deep that it shapes their identities, until their relationship actually becomes their identity. Which speaks to how receptive Ashwini can be, also speaking to the 1H themes and Libra being the 7th house from Aries.

Clara actually starts to be an equal in the series when she's by his side, the pair functioning like inseparable twins, anticipating each other's thoughts and actions. Their co-dependence and affection for each other so intense that it is addictive as it is destructive to those around them. Their separation ultimately leading him to obsessive, destructive, desperate behaviours — as he feels like he lost a big part of his identity as well. Exactly how Sherlock Holmes would react had he lost Dr James Watson.

In addition to this, but more different, there are two Beauty-&-the-Beast tropes of this Ashwini-Ashwini dynamic. One is Spike and Buffy who have a relationship in which one character embodies the humanity and goodness the other craves and has a choice to learn from, although their toxic duo is marked by conflict and co-dependence.

The Ketu nakshatras being associated with Beauty in this trope, as well as the Beast (after the Jupiter naks of course), highlights the theme of their relationship. His character is marked by darkness and a longing for acceptance, while she seeks to understand the complexities of those around her. He represents the Beast, as she is initially repulsed by his vampirism, before she sees beyond his monstrous exterior to see the vulnerability within.

In the kdrama Sweet Home, Sang-wook is a contract killer who is out of touch with his humanity and it is when he meets a nurse caretaker, Yu-Ri, that he finds himself caring that deeply for someone in such a short amount of time, her presence making him reflect on his actions and identity.

Casey and Kevin in Glass embody this trope the most, as she is the only person who consistently shows empathy towards Kevin’s true self, becoming an anchor for him and reminding him of his humanity amidst his inner turmoil.

This complex dynamic is interesting as it nods, twice, to Casey's Ketu influence. She embodied the final girl nakshatra lord when the Beast devoured its victims and she survived, then she became Beauty to the Beast albeit more twisted in "Glass".

This trope extends to other Ketu-Ketu pairs which I have touched on before.

There is a sense that each character helps the other define or remember who they are in all of these Ashwini pairings as this nakshatra is prone to losing touch of oneself (such as Sherlock or the Twelfth Doctor straying from their humanity and isolating) or not even knowing one's place in the world (much like Spike and even Kevin). The presence of the other Ashwini shapes the behaviour, thoughts, and actions of the other, making their bond almost integral to their sense of self. Touching on those 1H themes, this is what the entire Aries section is learning, but this is Ashwini's important journey.

The Ashwini-Ashwini pair is much like twins who grow up shaping each other’s identities, where the presence of one is key to understanding oneself. And the inseparability of Clara and Twelfth is so twin-like, that of course their companionship to me is literally parallel to this nakshatra's deites; the twin brothers, Ashwini Kumaras, who have adventures and many achievements together (just like Clara and Twelve traveling and going on many adventures). I have noted months ago, maybe even a year from now, that the Ashwini-Ashwini pair can be a nod to that. It may signify having or seeking your soul's other half (neither romantic nor platonic), being how twins are usually described.

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon ( it borders on dubcon though ), mention of guns, anonymous sex, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯𝘀 ∣ prompt # eighteen // sex in an onsen

you kept your head tilted back against slick stone— gaze fixed on the long barrel of a rifle leaned up against the jagged rock only an arm’s length away. he hadn’t exactly threatened you with it, but the very air around him seemed to be a warning in itself when he’d ordered you out of the water, so you’d obeyed ( albeit cursing him quietly ). you’d been staying at a nearby inn for the last week or so, and you couldn’t say that he looked familiar. he must not have been local, which made you all the more nervous about the fact that he’d managed to catch you alone in the onsen.

he was a man of few words, as soon as you stood up in the water, he had your body arched over it and your legs spread, taking only a moment to drop his garb and spit in his hand, slathering it over a hardening cock before he plunged into you.

the pressure forces a mewl from your lips, and when his thick, calloused hands settled on the flare of your wet hips, he jerks your body forward to meet a greedy pace. at first, your eyes glared up at him as you protested, but when you saw that such a thing wouldn’t work on him ( not even a twitch in his stoic expression ), they had fallen over the body of the stranger fucking you. lean, but deeply chiseled and rugged, with faded battle scars. he was a soldier, at least at one point, made obvious by the blue of his garments discarded, which would explain why he was so heavily armed. looking at his body, watching the muscles in his lower abdomen dance beneath his skin when he thrusts forward was putting you into a trance. your hands wanted to reach out, grab his forearms as he held on to you with an angry grip, and anchor yourself to your assailant. that wasn’t right, and you knew it, but you couldn’t deny it felt good. his pace was not an overly rough one, and even the way your walls fluttered around the girth he provided was not unpleasant—

“Fuck, you’re tight, don’t get fucked much, do ya?” he muttered under his breath and clenched his jaw; you could watch the healed scars on his face shudder. as if spurred to do so, your insides spasm, clamping down on him harder in response. good. you wanted to be so tight that he felt like he was being strangled— your little way of getting him back for the assault.

“Go— to hell—“

you squirm, groan, and try to sit up, but he scoffs, one of his hands planting itself on your naked breast, his fingers splaying out as he pressed his weight on your chest, “be still.” he’d demanded, pinning you tightly with your back against the stone, so you’d eventually dropped your head back, focusing instead of the rifle. your body slid against the rock, leaving your skin raw and feeling irritated, but you reach out with one hand towards the weapon, considering pointing it right in his face and demanding he let you go. the stranger huffed and snorted as he mounted you, fucking you with reckless abandon.

the rifle appeared almost as a witness— the steam curling up around it, enveloping it in a thick blanket. the man notices where you’re reaching, and a rough grunt escapes his lips, “Wanna shoot me, girlie?” his tone was low and taunting, as if he knew that even with the gun within your reach, you wouldn’t be able to.

you still nod, though. if you knew how to use that thing, you’d fill him full of holes.

“Get in line, sweetheart.”

suddenly, the sensation of rough skin— broken and calloused— on your face makes you start. his fingers have traversed up the side of your neck and grasped your chin, forcing your eyes back to him. “Look at me,” he demands. you don’t want to do as he says, and you know the reason why.

you didn’t want to enjoy what was happening to you.

but you, eventually, allow your gaze to lock on with his, and you feel your stomach sink at the lustful, greedy look in deep, abyssal eyes.

for several, agonizing moments, there was nothing but ragged breath and skin slapping as he stared into your eyes. his teeth clenched, snorting through his nose like a wild animal. and you, trying to kill every whimper that threatened to break the barrier of your pursed lips as the thick, throbbing tip of the stranger’s cock battered your sensitive, spongy interior nerves. he could see the struggle in your eyes, the conflict with yourself, your determination to pretend you hated it as much as you should. the spectre of amusement passes across his expression, before he pushes his fingers against your lips, smearing the scent of salt and sweat across them, pushing them open so he can worm his digits inside, making you taste him.

“Cute.”