#any interior from tas is wonderful

[spirk-trek]

Star Trek the Animated Series, S1E11: The Terratin Incident ⋆.˚ ✧

[daisynik7]

cw: fluff, established relationship, suggestive at the end

Author’s Note: this drabble was inspired by my snookums @dprkento because we were talking about building forts together the other day and I thought how cute would it be if we did that for husband!Nanami?! anyways, ily, thank you for always making me feel so special and loved. Divider by @/cafekitsune.

It’s been a stressful week for both you and your husband, more so for Nanami though, who has worked overtime nearly every day since Monday. When Friday finally arrives, you come up with an idea to help the two of you unwind. It’s a bit unconventional, maybe even a little childish, but you have a good feeling that it’s just what he needs. 

Around seven in the evening, you hear the familiar jingle of keys from the other side of the front door. You crawl out from under your creation, chest thumping with excitement, unsure how he’ll react to all of this. Waiting by the entrance, the door swings open to reveal Nanami, eyes tired, shoulders hunched, the aura of an overworked man surrounding him. He shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack while he removes his shoes. When he sees you, his expression brightens, a small smile forming on his lips, always happy to be home. You greet him with a warm embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. He nuzzles his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Hi.”

You giggle into his chest then peer up at him. “You sound exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” he admits, bowing down to kiss you on the lips.

���Have I got the perfect surprise for you then,” you say, smirking. 

He stares at you with a brow raised, curious. “Oh no, what now?” You’ve got another trick up your sleeve, keeping him on his toes. And while he pretends to be hesitant at first, he always looks forward to whatever you have in store for him. 

Tugging on his hand, you lead him into the living room, where your masterpiece awaits. “Ta-da!” You hold your arms out, presenting the pillow fort you constructed for him. The base is made of the chairs you dragged all the way from the dining table, concealed by mismatched throw blankets laid out on top of each other to act as the roof. The interior is designed with every pillow you could find lying around the house atop the thickest comforter you have to provide enough cushioning. The finishing touch is your favorite stuffed animal sitting in the corner inviting you in, the same one that Nanami won for you years ago after spending far too much time and money on a crane machine to get it. 

His lips are parted in surprise, inspecting each inch of it carefully. When he doesn’t have any response, you nudge with your elbow. “Well, what do you think?”

He kneels down at the entrance, appreciating the interior, eyes wide with wonder. “You built this? For me?”

“For us,” you correct him, beaming. “I thought we could give up on being adults for a night and relive our childhood.”

He chuckles, crawling inside, his muscular body filling up nearly the entire space. “I never built a fort like this when I was kid. This is a first for me.” Loosening his tie, he rolls over on his back, leaning his head into the pillows, finally relaxed. He waves over to you, beckoning you to join him. 

“Hold on. Let me get the snacks.” You shuffle towards the kitchen counter, gathering all the treats you prepared for tonight: chips, candies, even a box of pizza from one of your go-to restaurants. You dump all the food near the entrance of the fort and shimmy beside your husband, laying the pizza flat on your laps. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing a slice to indulge on. 

When you finish dinner, you set up a laptop on a small standing tray near your feet, snuggling closer to Nanami, who has since removed his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. From your peripheral, you can tell he’s not paying attention to the movie. Instead, his focus is on you. 

Still facing the screen, you grin. “What?”

He hums, leaning in closer, his mouth hot on your skin, not answering. He places a delicate kiss on your neck, lingering as his hand slides across your thighs, slipping between your legs. “Kento,” you breathe out, turning towards him, capturing his lips with yours. 

“Thank you for this,” he whispers between kisses, sliding his other hand beneath your shirt and up your back, fingers at the clasp of your bra. “I love you.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to undress and christen the pillow fort properly. As Nanami cradles you in his arms, watching you sleep against his chest, he admires the fort one last time before slipping into a peaceful slumber with a smile on his face. 

[fafnir19]

The Harvest

The crisp autumn air held a hint of rustic charm as Matthew, or Mattes as his aunt insisted on calling him, stepped onto the gravel driveway of her quaint countryside home. He sighed, his breath forming a fleeting cloud in the cool evening. As a city boy through and through, the prospect of spending his autumn break in this rural setting was less than appealing. But family obligations had brought him here, and he couldn't deny the sense of duty that weighed on his shoulders. His parents had insisted he visit his elderly aunt Käthe, claiming she needed help with the house and garden, and being her favorite nephew, he couldn't refuse.

Aunt Käthe, a sprightly woman despite her 93 years, greeted him with a warmth that seemed to fill the entire house.  But as he stood there, a tall, athletic figure with a modern buzz cut and a disdainful expression, he felt like a fish out of water. "Mattes, my dear boy!" Aunt Käthe's eyes sparkled with joy, and she wore a floral apron over her dress, a clear sign that the harvest season had her full attention. "Welcome, welcome! Come, let me take your bags." Matthew managed a tight smile, his blue eyes narrowing slightly at the use of the old-fashioned nickname. "Aunt Käthe. It's good to see you, but please, call me Matthew. I've told you, I'm not a fan of that name." "Oh, my dear Mattes, you know I struggle with these modern names. It's all the same to me, and you'll always be my favorite, no matter the name." She patted his cheek, her wrinkled hand soft against his tanned skin. The young man suppressed a grimace, his city-bred sensibilities already feeling assaulted by the rustic charm of the place.

The garden, a source of pride for his aunt, was his first task, and he approached it with a mix of dread and obligation. "Mattes, my boy, it's wonderful to have you here! Now, let's get you started in the garden. It's almost harvest time, and there's much to do!" Aunt Käthe's voice, filled with enthusiasm, grated on Mattes' urban-tuned ears. He despised the dirt, the dampness, and the physical labor that came with gardening, but he couldn't deny the sparkle in his aunt's eyes as she spoke of the upcoming harvest. "Aunt Käthe, I'm happy to help, but I must admit, I'm not a fan of getting my hands dirty." Mattes' voice carried a hint of apology, knowing his city-bred manners might seem out of place in this rural setting. "Nonsense, my dear! Gardening is good for the soul. And look, we've decorated the house for the harvest. Isn't it lovely?" She gestured towards the interior, where ears of wheat, cornflowers and vibrant autumn leaves adorned the walls, a testament to her single-minded focus on the season. As they worked, Mattes' buzz cut, a fashionable choice in the city, drew criticism from his aunt. "My dear, this haircut, it's like a jailbird's! You should grow it out." Matthew rolled his eyes, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice, "It's the latest trend, Aunt. The city folks love it." "City folks, eh? Well, we'll show them that we country folks know a thing or two about fashion. And speaking of country, I've been meaning to ask, dear Mattes, have you given any thought to my offer?" Käthe's voice softened as she broached the topic of the house inheritance. "Aunt Käthe, you know I love you, but I'm a city boy. I can't see myself living here." Matthew's response was gentle, yet firm. "Nonsense! You're young, you'll change your mind. I'm not going anywhere just yet, but it's good to plan ahead." She waved away his concerns with a flick of her wrinkled hand.

The following day, Matthew found himself in the garden, his hands gripping a rake, and his clothes damp with sweat and soil. He grunted as he worked, the unfamiliar physical labor taking its toll.

"Now, Mattes, let's call it a day," aunt Käthe said, her voice filled with determination. "So, let's have some tea and cake and catch up. I want to hear all about your studies." Matthew nodded, grateful for a moment's respite after tackling the dreaded garden work. He sat at the wooden table, its surface worn smooth by years of use, and listened as his aunt bustled about the kitchen, the clinking of cups and saucers punctuating her cheerful humming.

"So, my boy, what are your plans for the harvest festival? It's a grand affair here, you know. Everyone dresses up and joins the parade," she said, setting a cup of steaming tea before him. Rolling his eyes, Matthew replied, "I'm not into parades, especially not for some old harvest tradition. I won't be attending." Aunt Käthe's face fell, her disappointment evident. "But Mattes, it's not just a parade. It's a celebration of life, of the earth's bounty. A thank-you to the Lord and the farmers." Her voice held a hint of pleading, as if she knew her request might fall on deaf ears. "Harvest parades are for kids and... well, country folks. No offense, but I don't see the point. And I don't agree with the whole farmer worship thing. It's a business, heavily subsidized at that." Mattes' words were laced with sarcasm, reflecting his urban bias. Aunt Käthe's face fell, her disappointment evident. "Oh, Mattes, my boy," she sighed, shaking her head. "The farmers work hard to fill our plates. Look around you; the harvest is a miracle. Without it, we'd have no bread, no fruit, nothing. It's a matter of respect, we must be grateful, Mattes!" She pointed to a towel, its embroidered message clear: "Never you should forget, the farmer grows your bread." "I get it, Aunt Käthe, but I'm just not into it. We have supermarkets and global trade. We don't need to rely on local farmers." Matthew's frustration was evident, his city-bred impatience bubbling to the surface. His tone was sharper than he intended, and he saw the hurt in his aunt's eyes. "Well, I won't argue with you, my boy. I'll leave you to your thoughts." The church bells chimed six, signaling the end of the day and she turned, her steps slow and measured, a reminder of her advancing age.

Now, Mattes found himself alone in the parlour, surrounded by the harvest decor. He stared at the old oil painting on the wall, its vibrant colors depicting a harvest scene from centuries past. "Such an outdated theme," he muttered, rolling his eyes at the painting's prominence in the room.

It was then that something extraordinary happened. In a heartbeat, his life took an unexpected turn. He felt a strange pull, as if the painting had come alive, and before he could react, he was sucked into its ancient world. Disoriented, Mattes stumbled forward, his hands reaching out to steady himself. The room with its cozy furnishings were gone. Instead, he found himself in a lush green field, the warm breeze caressing his skin. But something was different; he was naked, his body adorned only with a cluster of hop tendrils around his crotch. His short blond hair had transformed into luxurious golden locks, flowing freely in the gentle wind.

"Excuse me," Mattes called out, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. "I seem to be lost. Can you help me find my way out of here?" The women paused, their eyes meeting his with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "We are the spirits of the winter wheat," they replied in unison. "Our task is to grow, to reach towards the sun until we are ready for harvest next year. You, young man, are part of this realm, and you can leave only when your task is fulfilled." "But what is my task?" Mattes asked, his voice laced with frustration. "You will know it when you feel it," they said, their voices like a gentle breeze. "It is in your nature." With that, they returned to their sowing, their graceful movements becoming a soothing rhythm in the field.

Mattes stood there, perplexed, as the women seemed to forget his very existence.

He continued his journey, his mind racing with questions. The next field he came upon was filled with cabbages, and nestled among them was a tiny spirit, no taller than a toddler. "Hello there," the spirit greeted him with a cheerful smile. "I'm the spirit of the cabbage. My siblings have already been harvested, and I'll be next soon. We never get to grow up, you know. The farmers like us young and tender." Mattes couldn't help but smile at the spirit's playful nature.

"But how do I get out of here?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Oh, you're not from around here, are you?" The spirit giggled. "You'll find your way when you've done what you're meant to do. The farmers have been kind to us, protecting us from pests. They understand the cycle of life." With a friendly wave, the cabbage spirit returned to its patch, leaving Mattes to ponder the mystery of his task. As he walked on, the fields seemed to stretch endlessly. In the distance, he spotted a group of pregnant women, their bellies round and full. They worked among the barley, their movements graceful despite their heavy burdens. "Young man, over here!" one of them called out.

"We are the spirits of the summer barley, and our time is almost up. The farmers have been kind, protecting us from weeds and drought. But your task awaits, so hurry along!" Mattes approached them, his curiosity piqued. "What is this task I must do?" The women exchanged knowing glances. "You will know when the time is right. The farmers have ensured our strength, and soon we will be harvested. Go, and discover your purpose." He thanked them and continued his journey, his mind swirling with thoughts.

Just then, he nearly collided with a busy squirrel, its arms laden with acorns. "Watch where you're going, lad!" the squirrel scolded.

"Winter's coming, and there's no time to waste. The Lord has provided, and you must be diligent. Look around—the trees are heavy with fruits, the ground is rich with nuts. Mattes, taken aback by the talking squirrel, stammered, "W-wait, what? How...?" The squirrel shot a dismissive glance at a cricket chirping nearby "Unlike some, I don't laze around all summer. But the Lord is just: idle all summer and you'll starve in winter. Or worse, become the mole's Christmas dinner - That is what you deserve, you fucking cricket!" With that, it darted away, swiftly burying an acorn in the rich soil. "Hey, wait!" Mattes called out, but the squirrel was gone. Mattes shook his head, amused by the squirrel's lecture.

The path led him to an apple orchard, where a group of young men danced among the trees, their laughter filling the air. "We are the spirits of the apples!" they called out, their voices filled with joy.

"Thanks to the farmers, we thrive and grow. They protected us from the cold and the storms, and now it's time for our harvest!" Mattes watched them, feeling a sense of camaraderie. He longed to join their celebration, but something deep within urged him forward.

As he left the orchard, a hop garden came into view, and a rustling sound caught his attention. A group of young women, their eyes sparkling with mischief, stood amidst the tall plants.

"There he is!" one of them exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. Mattes, confused and slightly embarrassed, found himself the center of attention. "Who... who are you looking for?" he stammered. "You, of course!" replied a bold woman, stepping forward. "You're the spirit of a male hop plant." Mattes raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And what does that entail?" The women exchanged knowing glances, their faces alight with anticipation. "Hops are unique," one of them explained. "Unlike most plants, they have separate male and female species. We are the spirits of the female hop plants, and you, dear boy, are here to fertilize us." Mattes's eyes widened in disbelief. "Fertilize? Me?" He felt a strange sensation in his groin, and to his horror, he realized his body was responding to their words. "This is absurd! I'm not..." His voice trailed off as he looked down, only to find his cock emerging from the hop cones that had mysteriously appeared around his waist when he was sucked into the painting. The women giggled, their hands reaching out to caress and stroke him. "It's your nature, hop boy," they cooed. "Embrace it, fertilize us!" Mattes tried to resist, but their touch was electric, sending shivers of pleasure through his body. "No, I can't..." His words were weak, his resolve crumbling under their skilled hands. "Oh, but you will," they whispered, their lips brushing against his skin. "You're one of us now." Their kisses and caresses intensified, driving him to the brink of ecstasy. Mattes's protests faded, replaced by a primal urge to fulfill his newfound purpose. He surrendered to the sensations, his mind awash with the rhythm of nature—sowing, growing, and harvesting. One by one, he fertilized the hop girls, his body moving with an instinctual grace. The garden echoed with their laughter and moans, a symphony of pleasure under the starry sky. "Yes, hop boy, give us your seed!" they cried, their voices blending with the rustling leaves. As the last girl stepped away, satisfied and glowing, Mattes collapsed beneath the ancient oak, his body spent but his spirit rejuvenated. He had found a connection to this land, to the cycles of nature, and to his own primal essence. A sense of peace washed over him, and he understood the cycle of life, the wonder of growth and harvest.

And then, as suddenly as he had been drawn into the painting, he was back in Aunt Käthe's house. Mattes stood there, breathless, his body still buzzing with the aftermath of his experience. But something was different. His hair, once a short buzz cut, now flowed in golden waves, and his urban bomber jacket had been replaced by a button-down shirt, fitting for a country gentleman.

On the next morning the morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the rustic wooden table. Aunt Käthe, her frail frame wrapped in a cozy shawl, entered the room, her eyes immediately drawn to the figure sitting by the table. It was Mattes, but something was different. "Good morning, Mattes," she said, her voice filled with surprise. The young man before her was a far cry from the city slicker she had welcomed a few days ago. His urban look and demeanor was gone, replaced by charming noble country boy, as if he had stepped straight out of cheesy countryside magazine. "Good morning, Auntie," Mattes replied, his voice warm and cheerful. "I've been thinking," he continued, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I believe I'll attend the harvest feast after all. And I think I'll try my luck with some country beauties." Aunt Käthe's eyes widened, and for a moment, she was speechless. "My dear boy, what has gotten into you? You've always been so... city-minded." "Well," Mattes began, leaning back in his chair, "I've learned a lot these past few days. About the land, the farmers, and the hard work that goes into every harvest. I never truly understood it before, but now I see the beauty in it." "And your hair?" she asked, gesturing towards his new locks. "Oh, that's part of the new me, I suppose," he said with a laugh. "I feel like I've been reborn as a country boy. Mattes is the name I'll go by from now on. It suits me better, don't you think?" Aunt Käthe smiled, her heart warming at the transformation. "It certainly does, Mattes. It certainly does. I'm glad you've found a new appreciation for our way of life. The harvest feast will be a wonderful experience for you."

As Mattes sat there, listening to the church bells chime in the distance, he felt a sense of peace. "I can't wait to finish my studies and escape the city's chaos. Maybe... just maybe, I'd like to settle down here, Auntie." Käthe's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I'm so proud of you, my dear boy. You've always had a special place in my heart, and I'm thrilled you're considering my offer. This old house will be waiting for you whenever you're ready." They shared a hearty breakfast and Mattes felt a sense of belonging he had never known before. The magic painting had not only altered his appearance but had also unlocked a deep connection to the land and its traditions. He was no longer the reluctant city boy but a man with a newfound appreciation for family, nature, and the simple joys of rural life. "I can't wait to see the look on the girls' faces when I show up at the feast," Mattes said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I might just sweep one of them off her feet!" Aunt Käthe chuckled, shaking her head fondly. "Go on, my boy. Go and make the most of this new perspective. And remember, the harvest is a time for gratitude and celebration. Enjoy every moment." With a spring in his step and a heart full of newfound purpose, Mattes set out, ready to embrace the harvest feast and all the surprises it might bring.

[sashaisready]

Chapter Ten - Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Warning: Beginning of smut 😎

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

He sets off out of the alley and you pause for a second before following him back to the club entrance, not really sure where this is going. He gestures to the bouncers who let you both in and he strolls back through to the bar area.

"Bucky, how is this quiet-" you protest but he just grabs your hand and leads you around the bar.

You flinch at the contact, making a mental note to remember later how your hand felt in his.

He leads you to a door and ushers you towards a flight of stairs. You drop in line behind him, your curiosity taking over. There's another door at the top which he unlocks with a fob and props open for you.

You step inside, it's a chic office with a huge mustard couch, as well as a small bar in the corner alongside the large writing desk. The walls are a brilliant white. Everything is modern and expensive looking, lots of high end wood and fancy furnishings. It looks like a picture from an interior design magazine.

He closes the door and looks at you expectantly, wriggling his fingers in a 'Ta da!' gesture. It's a lovely room, but you're not really sure what your meant to be looking at.

"I mean it's nice but..." you begin.

"And what can you hear?" he asks.

You pause. "Nothing...? Oh wait...wow, nothing!" You realise there is not a single sound coming from the thriving nightclub below.

He nods. "Yep...completely sound proofed up here. Perfect if you want some peace".

You listen out for any suggestion of a sound from below but he's right, the only noises are your footsteps as you walk through the room.

"It's so quiet" you gasp. "You could murder someone up here and-"

You freeze for a second, realising your mistake and who you're talking to. You turn to him, the colour draining from your face.

He just shrugs and awkwardly grimaces.

"Well...If you don't want anyone to hear anything" he sighs with a loaded inflection.

Your mouth hangs open in shock and your eyes dart around the space, looking at it with horror now you have new context – panicking as you wonder what might have happened where you're standing. A chill runs down your spine.

Bucky begins to snort with laughter. You flip around to look at him with your brows furrowed.

"Fuck, I'm kidding!" he laughs warmly. "It's only soundproofed so I can get some work done when the club's open...You've seen too many movies".

"Jesus, Bucky!" you squeal, slugging him on the shoulder. "You're such a dick".

You laugh reluctantly, relieved that he's only playing with you.

You flop onto the enormous couch, savouring the comfort.

"Thank-you for this, I just need a minute".

"Take as long as you like, Doll" he says kindly, taking a seat next to you.

You shoot up suddenly and look at him, remembering what he was doing before you ran out.

"Oh, wait – don't you need to get back to your girlfriend?"

Bucky frowns. "Who?"

"You know, that pretty girl you were with downstairs".

He scoffs. "She's not my girlfriend. She just attached herself to me in the VIP area like a limpet. I don't even know her name, why do you think I didn't introduce her to you?"

You snort laughing. "Fuck, you're such a pig" you giggle.

He grins smugly. "So I've been told".

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting at him. He smiles back, moving closer to you so that your legs are touching. You manage to stifle a gasp.

"So you thought she was pretty, huh?" he asks teasingly.

You nod. "Jesus Christ, yeah. Stunning. But all your girls are, aren't they?" you smirk back at him.

His eyes are suddenly alight with mischief.

"And how would you know that?" he purrs.

"You're not the only one who can read up on people..."

He cocks his head as he watches you intently. 

"So...what, you didn't want to be one of them?" His voice is lower now, less playful, more serious now your previous conversation has come up.

You rub your lips together, unsure of how much to admit to him. Everything just got a bit heavier. You pause for a moment, considering what to say. You're quickly sinking under the weight of his gaze.

"Well...I didn't think I could be one of them" you finally admit. Your voice is small, shy.

"What?" he asks, his face is suddenly stern.

"C'mon Bucky. Let's be real. I don't look like any of those girls" you shrug. "I was never going to fit in at Gambino's with thousand dollar wine bottles and cuts of steak costing more than my rent. I'm more...a beer and burgers kinda girl, you know? I didn't want to embarrass you..." you shrug.

He jumps up from the couch. "What??" he practically barks, his face twisted in anger.

"What?" you ask incredulously, surprised by his reaction.

"THAT'S why you turned me down??" he practically snarls.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Well...yeah".

He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief. "You're kidding me right??"

You chew your bottom lip. "....no?" You said hesitatingly, not sure what answer he's looking for.

Bucky stamps his foot and claps his hands victoriously.

"Fuck! I knew I wasn't going insane at the bakery" he whips out his phone. "I need to tell Steve this and rub it in his face" he says childishly as begins to furiously type on his screen.

This goes on for a few moments, his focus on you now entirely lost.

You glare at him with confusion, unsure of what you're meant to be doing. You're a bit annoyed that this is his reaction after you were open with him, putting yourself out there and admitting your insecurities. Now, what, he's texting his friends?? You slowly rise to your feet and awkwardly head for the door, thinking you should probably leave him to it.

"Nope" he says authoritatively. Without looking up from his phone he points aggressively to the couch.

"Sit your ass back down, I'm not done with you yet".

You obey him and plop yourself back onto the couch again immediately, responding to the assertiveness in his tone almost instinctively, seeing a tiny glimpse of his boss persona.

He finally finishes on his phone and slides it into his jacket inside pocket. His eyes lock onto you once more.

"Okay, so where we were? Oh, right. What the fuck is the matter with you?" He asks inquisitively.

"Excuse me?" You respond coolly, scowling at him.

"Am I getting this right - you turned me down for a date because you were uncomfortable with the restaurant choice and got yourself worked up looking at photos of me and other women?" He scolds, folding his arms across his chest.

"...uh. Yes".

"Right. So you did want to go out with me? And you were flirting with me in the bakery, right?"

You blush, feeling embarrassed at this interrogation and exposure of your feelings.

"...yes" you reply meekly.

He nods. "Okay. So I'll ask you again, what the fuck is the matter with you?"

You glare at him and clench your jaw. "I'm not going to sit here being spoken to like this"

You get up to leave and furiously head towards the door but he blocks your path.

"Dolldolldoll - I'm sorry" he stammers, grinning at you fiendishly.

"Don't be like that. I don't mean to give you a hard time. I just didn't see this coming. Here's me thinking you just didn't want to go out with me, that I'd misread all of the signals. That's why I haven't been back to the bakery – I assumed you thought I was a creepy jerkoff".

You avert your gaze. "No...but maybe I do now."

Your tone is stroppy, sullen. You're embarrassed that he finds this all so amusing.

He cups your chin in his hand and your breath hitches. He gently tilts your face up with his gloved fingers, leaning in close. You look up at him anxiously, very aware of the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

"Doll..." he says, much softer now. "All you had to do was tell me. We didn't have to go to Gambino's. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice. But I'd never want you to feel uncomfortable. We could've gone anywhere. Hell, I would've taken you to Burger King if that's what you wanted".

You beam at him. "Really?"

"Really." He grins back.

"But all those women, Bucky. I don't look like them. I just don't know if I'm enough for you-"

But you don't finish your sentence because he cuts you off with a sudden kiss. He pulls your face to his, nibbling on your lower lip for a moment before his tongue is in your mouth. You press back into him, your hands entwined in his hair as your tongue welcomes him greedily. You're practically panting as his arms lock you in his embrace. Your entire body seems to fizz as you drop the bottle of water you've been clutching. It's electric, better than you could have ever imagined.

He pulls away and locks your face between his hands, holding you so close that he's practically eye to eye with you.

"You really think I'd do that if I didn't find you attractive enough, Doll?" He tells you between heavy breaths.

"If I didn't think you were gorgeous? If I hadn't been losing my mind thinking about what's under your overalls every time I'm in the bak-"

It's your turn to cut him off now. You push him down onto the sofa, straddling him as you return to your place on his mouth, kissing him desperately, hungrily - as if it could be snatched away from you at any moment.

He kisses back just as urgently, his hands running up your back and over your hips. You can feel the metal arm now. His gloves are still on but you can feel the weight of it, feel the difference between it and his other hand as his fingers slide up the back of your dress.

You weren't even aware that you'd begun to rock back and forth, your crotch rubbing against his suit trousers as you desperately seek friction.

He moans softly into your mouth, it cuts through your lust haze and goes straight to your core. Your only thought is that you want to hear him make more of those noises. And you want to be the one causing them. Teasing them out piece by piece as if uncovering buried treasure.

He manages to peel you off him for a moment, gasping for breath as he looks at you.

"Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?" He pants. "I mean I'm happy to keep going here but I'm aware one of my men might come knocking at any moment - and I don't think I'm going to be able to stop if we go any further..."

You ponder his question as he begins to smatter butterfly kisses up your neck and down to your chest. You mewl at the feeling. On the one hand you want to go home with him - do this properly with the care it deserves and not risk interruption by one of Bucky's goons should something need his attention in the club...

...But you know you're already dripping. You're practically aching for him, desperate to feel him. You whine in frustration at having to stop, your libido clouding your judgement.

Bucky grins, his ego imploding at your clear desire for him. You've barely touched one another and you're already foggy with lust.

"Can we go to your place?" You ask quietly.

He nods and smiles at you, tapping your back with his fingers to signal for you to get off his lap. You do, getting to your feet and giving yourself a shake to break out of your cloud of arousal. Bucky grunts and adjusts his obvious erection as he stands up. 

You go to pick up the water bottle you dropped but he just waves it away and grabs your hand - leading you back down the stairs.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Your Best American Girl, Chapter One:

pairing: 1920’s journalist!marcus pike x singer!ofc (Evelyn Edwards)

rating: M (1920’s shit, alcohol consumption, allusions/brief descriptions of DV/assault, i think that’s all for now)

wc: 2.3k

series masterlist | marcus masterlist

As Marcus arrived at Nonnie’s Books, a tiny, hole in the wall brownstone with the store’s name written in yellow cursive on the window, he wondered how this “store” got away with things for so long. It seemed clear as day to him that no actual business occurred here, and as much was confirmed when he and Betty stepped inside.

Tall, dust covered bookshelves lined the walls of the red brick interior, a few more sitting in the middle of the lamp-lit room. Most of the copies were tattered and worn, as if from a personal and well-loved collection.

“This is where ya takin’ me?” Betty asked in a whisper, though it was hardly needed with the thumping music of the jazz band in the basement.

“Yes,” he replied before slipping his hand into hers. “Trust me?”

“As much as any girl can trust a fella.”

Marcus smiled and nodded. As he walked up to the register, a tiny, old woman greeted him with a studious look. He flashed her that winning smile of his before reaching in his coat pocket for a bill.

“Seems a nice night for a little music, doesn't it?” he asked, his question a code. Nervously, he awaited the woman’s judgement.

“Sure is,” she replied, finally cracking something resembling a smile. “Come along.”

Betty gave Marcus a giddy smile and hugged his arm as she walked with him beyond the till to the door that sat behind it. Inside what seemed from the outside to be a closet, Marcus and Betty found themselves faced with a staircase that led down to the basement, the music now less of a dull thump, the chatter from the club and the scream of the saxophone replacing it.

“Oh, Marcus!” Betty exclaimed, grinning wild as he led her down the staircase and into the red-painted club. “And ta’ think, I thought ya was takin’ me to some bookstore for our first date.”

“Not a date, Betty,” he reminded patting her hand as it rested on his arm. “Just a little bit of research.”

“Ya do enough research,” she said, moving to stand in front of him as he scanned the room for a pair of empty seats. “Live a little.”

Slipping her hand in his, she tugged him onto the dance floor with a wide smile and bright eyes. He chuckled at her as she danced and shook and swayed for him, undeniably attracted to the way she seemed at home in this scene so unfamiliar to him. He wished he could fit in anywhere the way she seemed to fit in here.

“Have you always been this wild and carefree, Betty?” he asked, still as he stood in the middle of the dance floor watching her come alive.

“Since I was born, Mistah Pike,” she replied with a grin. “Maybe ya should try it out for yaself.”

“I’m perfectly content watching,” he said.

He stood there for a while longer, somehow both stiff and relaxed as he remained a voyeur to the scene around him. Drinks flowed freely, conversation seemed plentiful, the music coming from the trumpets sounding like nothing more than a screech to him but to everyone else it sounded more like a call from heaven—or hell.

An emcee of some sort took hold of the microphone as Betty finally leaned in and asked for a drink. Marcus led her over to the bar and allowed her to order for both of them, having not indulged since prohibition went into order. The bartender slid over a two glasses of whiskey, the sight of the amber liquid placed in front of him making his mouth water in a way he hadn’t expected it would.

“To gettin’ ya outta the office for a change,” Betty announced, lifting her glass for a toast. Marcus joined in, clinking the crystal against hers before taking a sip. He winced at the burn of the medicinal liquor as it went down, his head shaking as though his body was cursing him for it.

“Please welcome to the stage, the lovely, the gorgeous, the talented Miss Evelyn Edwards!” Marcus turned to look at the red-drowned stage, the brick wall behind it and large grand piano looking lonely until a doll of a woman stepped out from the side stage with a winning smile, her pale skin and hardly-blue eyes shining in the spotlight.

Marcus recognized her immediately as the woman in the blue coat, running away from nothing. He felt the air puff out of his lungs as she opened her mouth, her own rendition of Helen Kane’s, “I Want To Be Bad”, drawing all of the rambunctious men in the room to the edge of the stage to watch her as she flossed her feathered boa around.

“Look at her,” Betty gasped, her eyes wide with admiration as she watched Marcus’ doll put on a show. “I’d kill to look and sound half as good as that.”

Marcus couldn’t muster a reply, not when he was as drawn into her performance as every other man with a working pair of eyes.

“Welcome, Mr. Howard!” A fellow standing behind Marcus and Betty at the bar called over the music, causing Marcus’s eyes to shift from the beauty on stage to the staircase. He watched as Jack Howard swaggered in with his posse, all of them dressed more expensively and elaborately than everyone else in the club. “Right this way. Saved you a table over in the VIP section.”

“You’re too kind, Georgie,” Jack smiled, winning and bright, as he patted the shorter, rounder, and older man on the shoulder, allowing him to lead them through the packed club to a roped off section in the corner. Marcus downed the rest of his drink as he kept a watchful eye on the group, studying every bit of movement, every parting of their lips in hopes of understanding some of the conversation from where he stood halfway across the room.

When Jack pointed at the stage and leaned back in to Georgie, the older man looked worried for a moment, but that winning smile of Mr. Howard soothed it. With a nod, Georgie found his way to the side stage and waited for Miss Edwards to finish her song and collect her flowers.

“Only one song?” Betty whined from beside him.

“I guess,” he replied, focused on watching Georgie and Miss Edward’s conversation on the side of the stage.

She seemed adamantly opposed to whatever the older man was proposing, though the band drowned her shouting out. Jack, meanwhile, seemed smug as he watched Georgie pull her over against her will, his winning smile seeming more devious than it did when he first witnessed it.

“Oh, she’s with Jack Howard?” Betty asked, leaning in so close her breath fanned over Marcus’s ear. “Makes sense. Too beautiful for any of these other new money wannabes.”

“You wanna go sit?” Marcus asked, pointing at a table that just opened up near the VIP section, hopeful to get a better grasp on the enthusiastic conversation Jack and Miss Edwards were having. Betty nodded and allowed him to guide her over to the table and pull her seat out before seating himself down beside her.

“Jack, don’t you dare touch me!” Miss Edwards shouted, loud enough to draw eyes, but Marcus remained facing away from the scene. “No! No! Georgie, I swear to god—“

“Hey, quiet down,” Jack hissed, the sound finally enough to pull Marcus’s eyes over to the scene. Jack yanked her down onto his lap hard enough to make her yelp, the sound making Marcus fist clench as it rested on his leg beneath the table. “You’re makin’ a scene.”

“You’re making a scene,” she countered, elbowing him in the stomach. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“Baby doll, you’re testing me, now,” he warned. Marcus watched as he stood to chase her out of the club but relished in him being held back by his friends.

“I think we should go,” Marcus whispered to Betty, earning a pout. “C’mon. Not leaving you in a place like this.”

“These, Mistah Pike, are my people. Fun people. Unlike yaself,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna stay with my people.”

“No,” he shook his head and sighed. “You’re going to let me hail you a cab so that you can go home.”

“Ya think I don’t go out by myself every night? Nothin’s happened yet.”

“Yet,” he repeated. “Come on, now.”

“No, ya gonna have to pick me up if ya want me to leave.”

“Hey, you can hand her off to us if you want,” one of Jack Howard’s posse chimed in, flashing a smile at Betty.

“See,” she said, standing up and walking into the section. “These are my people, Mistah—“

“Right, right,” Marcus interrupted, shaking his head at her recklessness. He didn’t want to leave her here with this crew, but unless she suddenly gained sense and reason, there was going to be no getting through to her. “I’ll see you at work Monday, then.”

Finding his way out of the club and back into the bookstore, he found Miss Edwards standing in front of a bookshelf, crying.

“Excuse me,” he called, approaching her where she stood in the dim light.

“Listen, I don’t go home with strangers.”

“Hm? No, no. I wasn’t—I just wanted to see if you were alright,” he replied, finally earning her eyes on his. She studied him from head to toe, a chuckle leaving her painted lips.

“You a cop?” she asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “Just a writer.”

“A writer, huh?” She smiled as if there weren’t tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “You look like a stiff.”

“I suppose I am one,” he admitted, cracking a smile. “Explains why I’m leaving the club already.”

“You get to see my set?” she asked, turning her body so that she was facing him now.

“I did,” he nodded. “You’ve got a nice voice.”

“What are you really? You can be honest with me, I’m no snitch.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied. “I’m a writer.”

“Mm,” she hummed in skepticism. “Don’t buy it. You know cops?”

“A couple,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

“They know me, I’m sure.” Marcus laughed genuinely and nodded.

“Well, aren’t they lucky,” he said, bringing a more sincere smile to her face than the playful one on it before. “I, uh, I saw what Mr. Howard was doing to you and I just wanted to check in—“

“You crazy?” she asked, furrowing her brow at him before looking around the empty bookstore. “Tryin’ to get us killed?”

“No—“

“Keep talkin’ like that here and you’re gonna.” Marcus was about to speak when Miss Edwards gripped his bicep and walked him out of the store and onto the sidewalk. “What’s your name?”

“Marcus,” he answered while trying to match her quick pace down the road. “Are you in danger—“

“Shh,” she hushed. “Marcus who?”

“Marcus Pike,” he replied.

“You ain’t a cop?”

“No—“

“Would you like to come over for coffee sometime, then, Marcus?” she asked.

“I, uh…are you alright?” he asked, forcing her to stop. “Your lip is healing, but it was busted, wasn’t it?”

“You are a cop. A detective, or somethin’?” Marcus felt like he was going insane, his eyes squeezing shut out of frustration.

“I’m not a cop. I’m just a stiff. Now, will you tell me whether or not you’re in danger?” Miss Edwards eyed him carefully for a moment as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Somethin’ like that. I don’t know,” she sighed and shook her head, looking off into the distance. “It’s nothin’ a writer can get me out of.”

“You’re in on Mr. Howard’s affairs, I assume.”

“No,” she scoffed. “I don’t know shit about what he does. All I know is he can pack a mean punch.”

“He hits you?”

“Don’t all men?” she retorted with a raise of her brow.

“No. Not good men,” he replied, struck by the resignation in her eyes. Had she never known a good man in her life?

“Are you a good man, Mr. Pike?” she asked, her eyes falling to his bowed lips before lifting again to his dark brown, almost black eyes.

“I try hard to be,” he replied.

“Are you busy tomorrow afternoon?”

“No—“

“Good, then you can join me on my trip to Long Island,” she announced as she hailed a taxi. “There’s a cottage I like to rent there for real cheap. Pretend to be one of the rich for a couple nights. Sounds like fun, huh?”

“You want me to join you—“

“Pack a bag, will ya? Gonna be there all weekend.”

As the taxi pulled up, Marcus stood frozen in confusion, wondering how and why this had all happened to him.

“What’s your address, Mr. Pike?” she asked as she opened the door for herself. Marcus gave her his address and she smiled, ordering him to be out front at noon sharp. “I think you and I are gonna be good friends, Marcus.”

“You hardly know me,” he chuckled.

“I know enough,” she smiled. Sitting down inside the car, she gave him a wave through the window. “Have a good night, detective!”

“And you too, Miss Edwards,” he called out as the car took off down the road, his hand waving her off until the taxi became just another bright light faded into the city.

And as if by some sort of magic, a friendship that would change both of their lives forever was born out of nothing. Or nothing, it seemed.

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[idungoofed]

Dincember Day 12 - Tree

Din Djarin x Gn!Reader

Finally jumping on the Dincember writing prompts, because better late than never right?

Word count: 816

____

You haul the small tree up the ramp of the Crest by its trunk with one hand, leaving a trail of green needles in its wake. With your other hand you carry a canvas bag, full from your solo shopping spree.

After pressing the controls to close the ramp you continue into the hull. You enter the space, too busy making sure you don’t displace any crates with the tree, the Mandalorian in the corner, who was sitting on a crate polishing his weapons goes unnoticed till he speaks.

“What’s that?” Comes Din’s gruff voice through the helmet.

You snap your head up, stepping in front of the tree. You’d hoped Din would be busy in the cockpit or sleeping at least till after you’d managed to decorate it.

“What’s what?” You ask, playing dumb.

“That green thing.” He sighs, pointing one of his gloved fingers behind you.

“You mean Grogu?” You ask, pointing at the child who had wondered over to you from his spot beside Din and was currently digging through the canvas bag. You try to nudge it away from him with your foot.

“No. The plant you just dragged through my ship.” He sighed again, causing a smile to break across your face. You loved it when he got all huffy.

“Oh that. Well that’s a tree, Din Djarin. I thought you’d know what one of those looked like by now.” You say, unable to keep the smirk off your lips.

Din simply stares at you through his visor, letting the silence work on you till you’d have to speak again.

Before you can break, Grogu pulls on the bag at your feet, causing its contents of colourful baubles and tinsel to spill over the floor.

You look down at the mess and back up to a Din who crosses his arms.

“Okay, fine! I got a Christmas tree! It just… you know I love this time of year, and it’s the first one I can celebrate in a home and with a family!” You exclaim, gesturing around the Crest and between Din and the child. “At least let me decorate it first before you decide on whether you like it.” You finish, voice trailing off.

Din stands then, stepping around the stray decorations, coming to a stop in front of you. He brings his hands up to cup your face, leather bound thumb brushing along your cheek. “Let me know when you’re finished, I’ll be in the cockpit.” He says, then leans his helmed head in to softly touch yours.

You grin up at him as he turns towards the ladder, stopping with one foot on the first rung. “You did get the stuff we actually needed from the market though, right?”

You roll your eyes and wiggle your hand at him in a shooing motion. “Yeah yeah, of course I did, now go on, me and Grogu need to get to work.” You say while glancing at the child who was staring, mesmerised, at his reflection in a purple bauble.

__

Less than an hour later you’re lifting the kid so he can place the last bauble on the tree. Well, almost the last - you did promise him he could keep one to play with.

You stand back with Grogu in your arms, watching how the colourful, twinkling lights bounce off the reflective surface of the Crests interior. He happily coos in your arms, shaking his new toy in the air.

You call Din’s name and wait for him to descend the ladder.

“Ta-dahh!” You say as Din turns towards you. “What do ya think?”

Din doesn’t say anything at first, only standing in silence.

Your shoulders slump with defeat. “You hate it.” You say. “I’m sorry Din, I just wanted to… it’s fine, I’ll just…” you reach for a bauble ready to start removing them when Din grabs your hand to stop you.

“Don’t.” He says, pulling you towards him where he wraps you and the child in his arms. “I… love it. You were right, it definitely makes the Crest more festive, I’m glad you got it.”

The smile that warms your face makes the tree needles still littering the floor worth it.

“Oh! I almost forgot we saved the best part for you!” You say in a sing-song voice. Turning out his arms, you collect the golden star you got as a topper, and hand it to him. “It goes on the top.” You point, knowing this was Din’s first time having a Christmas tree.

He reaches up and places it on the tip of the top branch, and steps back next to you. You sigh contentedly and wrap your arm that wasn’t holding the kid around his waist, resting your head on Din’s shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Din.”

“Merry Christmas, Mesh’la.”

“Patu!”

You break into laughter, “Merry Christmas to you too, kid.”

__

Thank you reading! 💕🎄

[dreamerstreamer]

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world. 

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?” 

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?” 

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be? 

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly. 

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start? 

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard. 

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear. 

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins. 

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now? 

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

[omgsquee2001]

Stay By Our Side: Part 8; Finale

(H/N) = Hero Name

[L/N] = Last Name

~~~~

“I’m ready. How about you, Todoroki?” Midoriya asked. Todoroki nodded. He looked forward, placing his hand on the handle of the door.

“Okay, let’s go then.” He said. With that, he opened the door and stepped out.

 With the door open, the flashing of the lights from the cameras were even more blinding than before. The music that was playing was deafening. Todoroki bent down and lowered his hand, extending it to you. You placed your hand in his, using it as leverage to step onto the sidewalk. You tried not to blink rapidly as the cameras flashed before your eyes. Midoriya was the last to step out, the three of you linking arms and walking down the Red Carpet. Midoriya looked around, clearly a little overwhelmed.

“Oh wow, uh, okay,” He seemed at a loss for words. Todoroki looked at him.

“Let’s just keep walking.” Todoroki advised. The three of you kept walking down the Red Carpet, trying to ignore the blinding lights and the questions thrown at you.

“Deku! (H/N)! Tell us more about your time at UA!” One reporter shouted. You kept looking forward, not answering any questions.

“(H/N), is it true that you don’t have full control over your Quirk yet? How do you plan to keep the civilians safe if you can’t control your Quirk?” Another reporter shouted. That one got to you. Todoroki squeezed your arm tighter, making you look at him.

“Don’t pay attention to them. They’re just trying to get a reaction out of you. You are an amazing Hero and have an amazing Quirk.” He said. You smiled at him.

“Thank you, Todoroki.” You said.

“Todoroki, is your name really Five Weenies?” A reporter asked. Todoroki growled.

“My name isn’t Five Weenies.” He said. You tried to hold back your chuckle at the question the reporter had asked.

“Deku, is it true that your classmate, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite punched a kid in the face the other day?” A reporter asked. Midoriya looked around in shock.

“Huh? Kaachan punched who?” He asked, clearly clueless as to what had happened. You gently tugged on his arm.

“We’re almost there. Just keep walking.” You said. Soon enough, the three of you made it inside. You sighed in relief, allowing yourself to relax.

“Thank goodness that’s over,” you said, unlinking elbows with your friends and looking at them. “It’s kind of overwhelming to have so many eyes on you.” You said. You took a breath in, bringing your arms up level with your shoulders. Releasing the breath, you lowered your arms level with your stomach, trying to calm your nerves and your Quirk. Midoriya nodded.

“Yeah. And cameras to.” He said. Todoroki nodded.

“I agree. They only seem to ask about my father anyway.” Todoroki said, frowning. You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. The boy looked at you. You smiled.

“I know you’ll make a great name for yourself one day, Todoroki.” You said. Midoriya nodded.

“[Y/N]’s right. Once you become a Pro Hero, I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll do amazing.” He said. You smiled and nodded. You raised your hand from his shoulder, letting it rest at your side.

“Yeah. The reporters won’t be focusing on Endeavor anymore.” You said. Todoroki looked at the two of you in slight shock.

“Oh, Midoriya, [L/N],” he then gave you both a smile. A genuine smile. “Thank you, both of you. That means a lot.” He said. You smiled.

“No problem.” You said. The three of you finally took the time to look around the interior of the building the Gala was being held in.

“Wow! This place is huge!” He said. The three of you made your way close to the dance floor, opting to stand on the side lines. You nodded.

“Yeah. And there are a lot of people here to.” You said. Midoriya’s eyes widened. He saw someone he never thought he would be able to see in person. He gasped.

“Oh my gosh! It’s the Number 2 Pro Hero, Hawks!” Midoriya shouted, his inner fanboy coming out. You smiled at your friend. He pressed his index fingers together. “I wonder if it’s rude to go and talk to him.” He wondered. You smiled and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure it’s not, Midoriya.” You said. Todoroki nodded.

“Mm. Would you like to go and talk to him?” He asked. Midoriya nodded, a wide smile on his face.

“Oh, I would love to! He looks a little surrounded at the moment,” he said. You looked over at the Pro Hero.

It’s true. He is pretty swamped by people, mostly girls. It would make Midoriya’s night if he got to speak to him. Hmm, maybe… Your thoughts were interrupted when Midoriya gasped yet again, making you look up, alert for any danger.

“Oh! He’s coming this way now!” He said. He then started panicking a little bit, wondering out loud if he looked alright and trying to figure out what he would say to him. You chuckled at your friend.

“Just relax, Midoriya.” You said. Midoriya took a deep breath and his shoulders lowered slightly. Hawks walked up to the three of you. He was wearing a tan dress coat and pants with a white, long sleeve undershirt and a black tie. He also wore tan dress shoes. The goggles that he normally wore as part of his hero costume were no where to be found. Hawks have a lazy wave to the three of you.

“Heyo!” He greeted. He then smiled. “Hey, I know you three. The Third Years of Class 1-A. Midoriya, Todoroki and [L/N], right?” He asked. “You guys have making waves in the hero scene for a while now.” He said. Midoriya nodded.

“Yes. Oh my gosh, Hawks, your wings are so cool! I remember watching you on television, fighting along side Endeavor! You saved so many people with just singular feathers! You’re incredible!” Midoriya gushed. Hawks chuckled and rubbed the back of his head.

“Aw, are you flattering,” he said. “Thanks kid. I’m just doing what I have to. You know, you three are quite the amazing Heroes yourselves,” his birdlike eyes drifted over to you. “And you,” you quirked an eyebrow up in confusion. He looked you up and down. “You’re the one with the Elemental Quirk that got kidnapped by villains, right?” He asked. You sighed and nodded. Of course people would ask you about the time you were kidnapped. Which was three days ago.

“Yes. I am. The villains wanted my Quirk for their own personal reasons. Apparently, they believed that if they put my Quirk to good use, they would be unstoppable.” You said. Hawks hummed and nodded.

“Hmm. I see. Well, sorry I wasn’t there. Must have been pretty scary.” He said. Todoroki looked at the Pro Hero, narrowing his eyes.

“They were very brave. I’m just glad everyone’s alright.” Todoroki said. Hawks nodded.

“Yeah, of course. You all are super strong. A couple of villains don’t have anything on you.” He said. Midoriya nodded.

“Mmm. Those villains are a bit tough. I’m thankful no one was hurt too badly.” Midoriya said. You nodded, agreeing. Hawks nodded.

“Me to. Well, I’ll be on my way. Nice talking to you three.” He said, giving a lazy wave. You nodded.

“Enjoy your night.” You said. Hawks nodded.

“See ya.” He said, walking off.

~~~

After walking around and greeting more of your classmates, the three of you finally spotted the two men you had been waiting to see since you had left the hospital with Todoroki and Midoriya.

“[Y/N]!” A familiar voice shouted. You looked to the side. There were Kirishima and Bakugou. A smile crossed your face.

“Eijiro! Katsuki!” You shouted. Ignoring that you had, once again, called the two by their first names, Kirishima ran up and pulled you into a tight hug with his good arm. You blinked a bit in surprise before gently retuning the hug, being mindful of his injured arm. You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder. Kirishima sighed as he pulled away, smiling.

“Mm, sorry for hugging you out of nowhere. I just missed you so much!” Kirishima glanced behind him at Bakugou. “Bakugou missed you to.” He said, making you chuckle.

“I don’t mind at all. I honestly missed you both to.” You said, smiling. You looked at Bakugou. “Yes, I missed you to, Blasty-Mc-Splode.” You said. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. C’mere.” He said, pulling you into a hug to. He sighed and rested his mouth where your shoulder and neck met. A blush made it’s way to your cheeks.

Since when was he this affectionate? You thought. You pushed your thoughts aside and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his shoulder. The two of you pulled away, smiling at each other.

“I’m glad you’re okay, dumbass.” Bakugou said, playfully punching your shoulder. You chuckled and playfully punched him back. Todoroki and Midoriya smiled at the interaction between the two of you. True, it was uncharacteristic of Bakugou to give hugs, but it seemed that he really cared for you. Todoroki looked at Kirishima.

“How’s your arm, Kirishima?” He asked. Your eyes widened.

“Oh! Right! I just remembered that before I left with Shoto and Izuku. I was wondering if you wanted me to heal your arm, to take some of the stress away.” You said. Todoroki and Midoriya looked at you in shock. You had never used their first names before. Bakugou and Kirishima frowned slightly. Kirishima’s smile returned just as soon as it had vanished.

“Nah. It’s all good. I wouldn’t want you to waist your energy on something so small.” He said. You smiled and nodded. “Besides, it’s actually healing up pretty quick. It only hurts a little bit.” He said. Midoriya smiled.

“That’s amazing, Kirishima!” Midoriya said. Todoroki looked at you.

“I guess we should leave you three alone now. I’m sure you would like to spend some time together.” He said. Midoriya nodded.

“Yeah. I wanted to talk to All Might anyway. I can see him over there.” Midoriya said, looking in that direction. You looked at the two and smiled.

“Alright. Thank you, both of you, for everything.” You said sincerely. The two nodded and waved, walking away.

“Hey dumbass,” Bakugou said. You looked at him. He was frowning more than he normally did. “You called those two extras by their first names. Why?” He asked. Kirishima nodded.

“Yeah. I noticed that to. You’ve only called us by our first names a couple of times.” He said. Your cheeks flushed and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“O-oh, so you guys did notice that,” you said, chuckling awkwardly. You lowered your arm and looked at the two. “Well, I normally call people that are my close friends, family or just people I like by their first names. I consider Shoto and Izuku close friends, so I called them by their first names.” You explained. You then tilted your head. “Did I not mention that the start of First Year at UA?” You asked. Kirishima chuckled.

“I don’t think you did.” He said. You smiled and chuckled.

“If it makes you two uncomfortable, I can call the two of you by your last names,”

“No,” Bakugou said, cutting you off. “You can keep calling me by my first name. I-I like it, or whatever.” He said. Kirishima smiled.

“Yeah. Keep calling me by my first name to! I like to know that I’m someone that you either consider a close friend or that you like!” Kirishima said, smiling. You smiled and nodded.

“Alright, Eijiro, Katsuki.” You said.

~~~~

Over the course of the night, you shared a dance with both Eijiro and Katsuki, feeling closer to the two than you ever did before. You were finishing up your dance with Katsuki. The two of you rejoined Kirishima. Kirishima smiled at the two of you.

“You two make a cute couple.” He said, smirking. Bakugou glared at the red head.

“Oh shut it, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou shouted. You and Kirishima chuckled at Bakugou. He sighed. “Anyway, I need some air. There’s too many people in here and it’s stuffy as hell. Do you two want to come with?” He asked. You looked at Eijiro and the two of you nodded.

“Of course we’re gonna come with you.” You said. “We all came together, right?” You asked, looking at the two of them. Kirishima nodded, smiling. 

“Right, yeah. Let’s go then!” He said. Bakugou scoffed. 

“Come on, hurry up.” He said, already walking off. Kirishima chuckled, looking back at you. 

“Here, [Y/N], take my hand, okay. I don’t want to loose you in the crowd.�� He said. You nodded and took his hand. Your hand fit right into his. It was as if it was meant to be. The three of you walked towards the elevator. Bakugou pressed the button to call the elevator. The doors opened with a ding. The three of you walked in. Bakugou sighed and leaned his back against the wall of the elevator. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. You stood next to Kirishima, unbeknownst to the two of you, your hands were still connected. Bakugou sighed and opened his eyes. He glared slightly down at your hands, connected with Kirishima’s. 

“You two seem rather close,” He said. You and Kirishima looked at him confused. You then looked down at your hands. The two of you yelped and let go of each other’s hands. Bakugou sighed. “It’s fine. It’s not like I care or anything,” he said. He sighed again and placed his hands in his pockets. Kirishima looked at the two of you. 

“I don’t mind parties, but yeah. There’s a lot of people here. Not much room.” He said. You nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah. I don’t mind parties, and I also don’t mind taking the breather from the main party anyways.” You said. Bakugou glared at the two of you. 

“Be lucky I even came to this damn thing.” He growled. Kirishima smiled at the blonde male. 

“That’s how we know you care about us, Bakugou. You came just for us.” He said. Bakugou rolled his eyes. 

“I already told you idiots that if you both didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t have come.” He said. You smiled at him. 

“I’m feeling the love, Katsuki.” You said. Bakugou smirked a little bit and rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He said. The elevator dinged, signaling that it was at the roof. The doors opened and you were met by an amazing sight. Your eyes widened. You could see the stars so clearly. Normally, they were blocked out by the lights of the city below them, but from up here, it was like they were within touching distance. You walked out first, almost in a trance. Bakugou and Kirishima followed after. Kirishima looked around. 

“Oh wow! The roof’s nice! There’s even couches, and,” 

You turned to look at Bakugou. 

“Are we even supposed to be up here?” You asked, cutting off Kirishima. Bakugou shrugged, walking over to one of the couches. He let out a grunt as he sat down, crossing one leg over the other. 

“I don’t care.” He said. Kirishima chuckled. 

“Well, alright.” He said, walking over to the couch. He took a seat right next to Bakugou. Noticing you weren’t sitting with them, Kirishima looked over at you. You were standing in front of the railing, resting your hands on it, looking up at the stars. “Uh, hey [Y/N]. You okay?” He asked. Bakugou glanced at you. A soft smile was on your lips. 

“Look at all those stars up there,” you said quietly, almost so quiet is inaudible. Kirishima and Bakugou looked up at the sky. “You can’t see them well in cities, but they look pretty tonight.” You said. You sighed and looked over at Bakugou and Kirishima. “You know, I was thinking a lot about how this vacation would go, and honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better last night,” you said. You walked over and sat on the other side of Bakugou. You looked down at your hands in your lap. You could feel the stares of the boys’ on you. Kirishima smiled. 

“Yeah. Me to. Even after a villain attack and even though I’m in a cast, I’m just glad I get to be here with you both.” Kirishima said. You nodded. You looked at Bakugou. 

“Katsuki,” the male grunted and glanced at you. “I know I joke around a lot, and so does Eijiro, and I didn’t get to say this before I left the hospital, but thank you, both of you for coming to save me,” you said. “When I was strapped to that chair and I couldn’t really use my Quirk to help out, you two still went out of your way to protect me, even if it meant that you got hurt in the process,” you said. You looked at Bakugou and Kirishima. “Even though you were hurt, Eijiro, you told Katsuki to not worry about yourself and to worry about me. I was so close to letting my Quirk take complete control over me. And it’s thanks to you two that, it didn’t. So seriously, thank you, both of you.” You said. Kirishima smiled. 

“You don’t have to thank us, [Y/N]. You’re special to us. It wouldn’t have mattered if it hadn’t been just Dabi and Shigaraki. Even if it had been the whole League of Villains, heck, even All for One, we still would have come to rescue you.” He said. Bakugou nodded. 

“Shitty Hair’s right,” he said. “It wouldn’t have mattered if they were weak ass villains like the ones we had faced or All for One. We still would have come to save you. Just like you all did for me at the Training Camp.” Bakugou said. You smiled and looked down at your lap. A moment of silence passed between the group. It wasn’t awkward, it was a comfortable silence. Kirishima sighed. 

“You know, something else has been on my mind quite a lot.” He said. You and Bakugou looked at him. You tilted your head. 

“Huh?” 

“Well, this is our last year at UA, and I guess, it’s sort of crazy that it’s already over.” Kirishima said. He sniffed, brushing away some tears. Bakugou cocked an eyebrow. 

“Are you crying?” He asked. Kirishima sniffed and brushed away some more tears. 

“N-no. I, I guess, I just, I’m gonna miss it. Even now that we’re moving on with our lives. I don’t want to separate from you guys. I want, I want to stay in touch, even when we have our own lives. When we’re Pro Heroes.” He said. 

That’s right. A lot of Pro Heroes today had graduated from UA High. A lot of them never really kept in touch with their old classmates. Our class has been through so much together. I would hate to graduate and forget all about them. You thought. 

“Ha, dumbass,” Bakugou said, breaking you out of your thoughts. He glared at Kirishima. “You think I’m just gonna forget about you two?” He asked. You looked at Bakugou. 

“That’s not what Eijiro means,” you said, making both males look at you. “He means that life sort of takes people in different directions after high school.” You said. Kirishima nodded. 

“Yeah, what [Y/N] said. So, I don’t want to loose you guys.” He said. A sad look crossed his face. You frowned. You walked over and knelt before Kirishima, taking his good hand. Kirishima looked at you in slight shock. 

“You’re not going to loose me, Eijiro,” you placed a hand over your heart. “I’m making a promise to you right now, as a soon to be Hero and your friend, that I will always be there for you when you need me.” You said. Kirishima smiled. He sniffed and brushed more tears away. 

“T-thanks, [Y/N].” He said. Bakugou sighed and looked away from you two. 

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he said. He looked down at you. “You to, [Y/N]. I’m gonna make sure that the two of you stay in touch with me, or else.” He said. You and Kirishima looked at each other and chuckled. 

“Alright, we all promise to stay in touch with each other, or else.” You said, laughing. Kirishima laughed as well. 

“Thanks, you two. I guess I just needed to hear that,” he stood up, making you back away a little bit. He then looked at you and Bakugou with a look of determination on his face. “Let’s be the best Heroes we can then, together!” He said. You smiled and stood up, pumping your fist into the air. 

“Yeah!” You shouted. Bakugou smirked at you two. 

“I’m gonna be the best! But, you two still show some promise.” He said. You and Kirishima looked at each other before laughing. 

“I, I guess that’s as nice as it’s gonna get,” he said. He smiled at the two of you. “Thanks, Bakugou. And you to, [Y/N]. You guys are the best.” He said. You smiled. You looked back at the elevator. 

“We should go back.” You said. Bakugou looked at you. 

“You sure?” He asked. You nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. We shouldn’t miss too much of the party.” You said. Bakugou grunted as he stood up, stretching out his limbs. 

“Yeah, okay. Plus, I as to tell Deku that he looks dumb in his suit.” He said. You and Kirishima chuckled. He and Bakugou started to walk towards the elevators. You stayed behind for a bit. You frowned and looked down at the ground then up to the sky, looking at the twinkling lights above you. 

Is it possible that I have a crush on both Eijiro and Katsuki? Is it even possible to have a crush on two people at once? You thought. You saw a single star twinkle in the sky. It was as if it were your sign. Your sign that yes, your feelings were true. They were valid. 

“Come on, [Y/N],” Kirishima said, breaking you out of your thought. He was holding his hand out. “Let’s enjoy the rest of our last year at UA, together.” He said. You smiled and walked over, taking Kirishima’s hand. You reached over and snuck your hand into Bakugou’s. Surprisingly, Bakugou didn’t flinch or yell at you. He tightened his grip on your hand. You looked ahead of you and smiled. 

I guess you can have a crush on two people at once. You thought. For now, I’m just going to keep it to myself. Maybe, someday, I’ll have the courage to tell them how I feel. 

~~~

Tag list:

@eijiandkatspebble

@winchestersbitch-dm

~~~

//We have reached the end of this series! I had so much fun writing it! Also, I’m curious. Would you all like me to add a bonus chapter of your dance with both Kirishima and Bakugou? I didn’t add it in this part because I felt like it would make the chapter really long. I might just leave the dancing out of it, however, if that is something you all would like me to add, please let me know in the comments.

Also, the sequel to this series, ‘I Love You’, will be coming out soon. I’m also thinking about making a mini-series(?) where it is multiple characters x the reader. So, keep an eye out for that. Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed this series! Have a good day/night!// 

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Heyhey! I think the cryo archon chlde one. Sorry for not being specific. Thank you

It's okay anon! No problem! This one has no smut and more murder couple and politics. I had fun writing this, thinking about how could you get kidnapped under lock and key and realized that it could only happen if it was allowed to so ta-da!

CW: descriptions of cruelty and gore.

The curse words, in order, are: bitch and whore

--

In a Quiet Lagoon, Devils Dwell

Summary: It was easy to forget that there was more to the Cryo Archon's face than a besotted husband and loving father. It was easier to forget that the beloved Tsaritsa was a dutiful Harbinger.

For all of Tartaglia’s meticulousness, he was not infallible as his worshippers made him to be. You knew that there were times he could be blindsided by things he didn’t take into consideration. As his wife, you took it upon yourself to ensure to cover for his blind spots, both in the battlefield and in running Snezhnaya. It required meticulous planning from both him and yourself, to ensure that the work would not interfere with your family’s life.

Tartaglia and his harbingers dealt with Snezhnaya’s foreign relations and problems. You dealt with the domestic problems; spies and dissidents that partnered with the Abyss Order, the occasional gods that wanted to dethrone Tartaglia, and on very rare occasions, traitors.

You cocked your head as you observed the room you were held in. Fine furnishings and lavish interior designs that were popular among the upper middle nobility of Snezhnaya. You were glad that your beloved son was with Tartaglia since it meant that you’d be able to get information out of this.

‘Well, at least before this reaches his ears’ You thought as you dreaded the bloodbath that would await you once this was over.

You stood up from the bed, gauging your current strength and frowning at the visible after effects of the drug.

“How troublesome”

You couldn’t locate your vision at your person, you applauded your captors for being thorough in that regard but pitied them for their worthless effort. You wobbled as you slowly walked around the room, inspecting the decors and checking out the windows. The door was locked with magic, you could tell with a cursory glance that the magic was intricate and would result into a backlash if opened with brute force.

‘Smart’ you praised them.

You moved to the windows and found the same magic. You sighed at the minor inconvenience this put you through. You could only forlornly stare at the white expanse of snow that was outside your window. The scenery was familiar to your eyes but its name eluded you.

‘And I wanted to welcome him when he returned.’

You sighed once more. Hoping that your captors would show themselves soon, you wouldn’t want to waste an opportunity to do some spring cleaning after all.

--

The moment Tartaglia returned to Zapolyarny Palace, the entire capital of Snezhnaya had drowned in his frosty wrath. He barely restrained himself from plunging the entire nation into frost, the thought of his darling son fearing him had kept him mostly sane. Pulcinella had taken his son away from the crime scene, a wise choice for the Harbinger if he wanted to keep on breathing.

Tartaglia could tell that the guards and maids stationed in your wing were all shaking. He spared no thought for them, postponing their inevitable demise for the kidnapping of his beloved wife.

“Your majesty” Dottore called from behind him.

Tartaglia kept on investigating the crime scene, scouring every detail so as to not miss any possible leads.

“The maids and guards have been questioned” Dottore reported, steeling himself to the cold hard stare of his Archon. Being subjected to it was suffocating, and he wondered how you could maintain eye contact with the Tsar when he was like this.

“I trust that you’ve brought me good news?”

The calmer Tartaglia was, the more pressure Dottore felt. His archon was fickle at best and volatile at worst. Most myths that surrounded him were almost never far from the truth and Dottore had no want nor need to be used as an example.

“Almost” He answered, “While we’ve yet to determine who is behind this attack we’ve narrowed down the list from the means used and there is ample reason to believe that the Tsaritsa has not been harmed.”

The silence was deafening. Dottore couldn’t wait to get out of Tartaglia’s warpath, seclude himself in his lab and experiment on the fools who had let this happen.

“Throw everyone stationed in this wing in the dungeons. Zapolyarny Palace will be in lock down” Tartaglia ordered as he moved out of your marital room and headed towards his former wing.

Dottore hastened to follow from behind, awaiting further orders now that the Tsar had made his move.

“Bring back everyone who entered and left the Palace. Those foolish nobles must have forgotten their place.”

For all of Tartaglia’s genial smiles and affable personality, it shouldn’t be forgotten that he was a man born to fight. One of the three archons from the original seven. A god who could stand toe to toe in the battlefield with Morax.

“As you command!” Dottore replied, face grim and yet he could not hide the excitement in his eyes. He had heard rumors, stories about the days when the entirety of the Snezhnayan ancient noble houses were almost culled in a blood bath.

There was no clear reason on why it had happened and no one dared to ask. But the one detail that remains in every iteration of the story was that the blood from those nobles were the reason for the odd patterns on the low parts of the wall of old establishments within the capital. Patterns that oddly resembled blood stains when seen from a certain angle.

--

You hummed as you saw the snow storm picking up from outside, a visible sign that Tartaglia had already learned your disappearance. You remained at your position by the window, back turned to the door as you listened to the rushing footsteps that were getting closer.

‘I do hope they can amuse me’ You thought just as the doors banged open behind you.

“How did you contact the Tsar?!”

‘Oh~ so it was them?’ You thought with mild amusement, you didn’t bother turning around to greet them.

“Is that the proper tone to use when speaking to your Tsaritsa?” You mocked them, eyes watching their angry face from the window’s reflection.

Behind you was the Count Potemkin, current head of the ancient noble House of Potemkin. Standing beside him was one of your former fiancé candidates, the heir apparent, Matvei.

“Answer me, you disgusting Су��а!” Potemkin cursed making his way towards you.

You slowly turned around, a smile on your face just as he reached out to grab you. Before he could even breach your personal space his hand was pierced by ice protruding from the ground. He screamed in agony, clutching his arms as he squealed like a pig.

“Gosh, would you lower your voice? It’s unbecoming for such an ancient bloodline to act like an animal” You chastised as you took a step back and observed the damage.

“Ah, what a shame, I didn’t break your wrist at all” You commented as if you had not precisely calculated to pierce his hand through the most excruciating way.

“You Блять! Let my father go!” Matvei cursed as he struggled on his restraint “You’re no match for our family’s knights!”

You blinked at his words, tilting your head to the side, as if considering his words. He smirked on seeing your action, “That’s right! Even if you’re a harbinger you’re still just one person!”

“Would you stop squealing like a pig? It’s been minutes now, you should have gotten used to the pain!” You turned around to shut Count Potemkin’s mouth. Ice formed on his mouth, starting from the tongue and making its way outwards.

“Ah~ That’s better!” You ignored the pale looks from the father and son, “If you behave, I might just let you keep your mouth but if your son keeps on pissing me off…”

You trailed off, maintaining eye contact with the Count. Your eyes were filled with malice and sadism, “My hand will slip and blow your brains out~”

You smiled, sweet and disgustingly vile as you made your way to the couch and sat in it. The snow storm outside had turned stronger, hail fell through the skies, mixing with the rapidly falling snow. Just from that alone, you could tell that your time to wring out information from them was running out.

“What reason did you have to attempt something as stupid as this?” You asked as you formed ice shards that floated on top your fingertips.

Matvei remained silent.

“Not talking anymore?” Every move of your body was designed to mock them, a display of power that showed how easy it was for you to trample upon them, “I just remembered, the Count was raising his precious daughter outside wasn’t he? A pretty blonde child with green eyes…”

Matvei flinched and stared at you in horror, dread pooling in the pits of his stomach as you spoke,

“Inessa Yakova Potemkin” You laughed softly, “No wonder the Countess died of anger, her dear stupid husband had acknowledge his bastard child, sent her to the palace to be a handmaiden.”

“Imagine what kind of face the Tsar would make if he knew how the Potemkin family insulted me by sending an illegitimate child as a handmaiden” Your ice changed its shape into a dagger, “Even if House Potemkin is an ancient bloodline, it doesn’t erase that your house is lower than my duchal household.”

Matvei screamed in pain as your dagger cleanly sliced off his left ear. You smiled at them coldly, “Start speaking, you should know by now that any resistance would only lead to a painful death...I can’t guarantee your darling sister would be spared from it either.”

In another life, you wouldn’t threaten another’s family. You would have shown mercy but this wasn’t that life. You were the Tsar’s wife, a Harbinger, and most of all the child of Snezhnaya’s strongest ducal house. A slight against you was a slight against everything you stood for.

“Time’s running” You reminded Matvei.

“We couldn’t let you threaten the Tsar’s power! You’re Lord Pulcinella’s niece, a child of House Yusupov. We needed to remove you from the seat of power, at first we planned to get rid of your child but all of our attempts were foiled.”

Another dagger found its way to his thigh. He screamed in pain, wet stain growing on his crotch and you clicked your tongue in disdain.

“Please that’s all we know!”

This time blood spurted out from his father’s left shoulder, some of it landing on you, some on the table in front of you. You didn’t flinch, merely wiping the blood that landed on your face with your gloved hand.

“Father!”

“Let’s do this again, shall we?” You smiled.

“I-I really don’t-”

Spikes of ice burst out from his right thigh.

“Duke Izmaylov! It was him who planned all of this! Duchess Tolstoy funded the operations! Please spare me!”

“How disappointing” You sighed as you made his father’s eyes burst.

You sneered in disgust as Matvei vomited on the marble tiles in front of him. You looked up as you heard heavy footsteps and the sounds of scream echoing beyond the open doors. Moments later, Tartaglia was visibly walking towards you from the other end of the hallway.

“Ah. Time’s up.”

You stood up from the couch and made your way towards your husband, the Tsar, Tartaglia. His cold eyes melted and looked upon you with relief, his hands patted your body, looking for non-existent injuries. You let him do as he pleased, both of you ignoring the dying count and the vomiting Matvei.

“I came as fast as I could” Tartaglia burrowed his face on your neck, ignoring the discomfort from the height difference between the two of you “I thought I’ve lost you.”

You felt your heart ache at his tone, your arms automatically hugging him in comfort, laying a soft kiss to his cheek as you spoke, “I’ll make sure that will never happen.”

You signaled the Fatui waiting behind him to start rounding up the two.

“We’ll have to clean up Two ducal households and five Countdoms” You reported as you gently and comfortably let Ajax’ hand settle on your waist as he led you out of the mansion.

“I’ll handle that. You should take a rest with Teucer, our son was worried today.” Ajax replied as softly as he could but the tenseness had yet to fade away.

You leaned further into his embrace, “Mhm. By the way, the insider was Inessa, you should get rid of all the staff that had a relationship with her. It wouldn’t do if one of her lovers got the idea to avenge her.”

“As you wish.”

--

Three months later the public bore witness to a new cruelty of the Cryo Archon. At Krasnaya Square, a stage was set up, in it were the shackled and chained members of several noble households. Some from the ancient noble houses, and the others from the new nobles.

Tartaglia had intentionally spread the news of your capture and subsequent rescue. He wanted to make a show of power, one you approved of, if only to ensure that his plans for world domination and eventual downfall of Celestia would run smoothly.

Teucer, your 5 yr old son, sat on your lap watching the proceedings from the balcony area. The two of you were surrounded by Fatui guards, new ones. The entire area was secured and security was tight, there was no way a rescue for the condemned would occur.

Tartaglia had made sure of that.

“Close your eyes, dearest” You whispered to your son’s ears.

From below, all of the traitors had blood bursting out of their heads, spikes protruding from the inside of their brains as Pulcinella finished declaring their crimes and their sentence. You hummed a soft tune as Teucer asked, “Mamochka, can I open my eyes now?”

“Not yet dearest, not until Papa comes back.”

You gazed down at the crowd, watching as they rejoiced at the culling before your eyes were drawn at the corner. You smiled at the familiar blonde hair of Inessa, your eyes merciless as she stared at you with hatred.

'Ah, how she must have looked like once she realize all of it was a sham~'

You waved at the crowd from the balcony, pleased that the nobles would now learn to step back in line. You felt your husband’s stare and gave him a loving look.

“Mamochka?”

You sighed in fond exasperation, you figured that he could look now that the bodies were being carted away, “You can open them now, give Papa and the rest a good wave okay?”

Teucer did as you said, more cheers erupting from the crowd upon seeing their beloved Tsarevich waving at them. From his position below, Ajax smiled warmly at the sight of his family being safe and sound. The sun shined brightly in Snezhnaya’s eternal winter.

An auspicious sign from their Cryo Archon.

[randomfandomimagine]

Prompt for Geralt of Rivia + 3-1 “I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say“, please? Thank you so much!!

Want to send a request? Read my rules first, please!

Geralt of Rivia x Gender Neutral Reader

The silence was unbearable. It felt so loud that it resonated in your very bones. It was deafening.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but his amber gaze was focused in a faraway point. Avoiding you. Probably not even seeing where he was looking.

“So that is it then?” You whispered, too hurt to put it into words.

“Yes” Was all that answer he gave you, still averting his eyes.

“If this is some kind of bullshit noble reason, Geralt...” You gulped, aching at the thought of be facing that scenario. Or walking away from him forever. “Is that why you’re shutting me out? To protect me?”

The witcher didn’t reply, he didn’t even grace you with one of his eloquent grunts. No, this time he refused to let you understand in any way. But you knew him to well.

“It is, isn’t it?” You let out a dry chuckle, causing him to watch you with the corner of his eye. “Like I can’t protect myself, you obstinate witcher”

“That is not the point” He finally spoke up, muttering through grit teeth.

“Then what is?” You insisted, tapping his shoulder in a gentle shove. Geralt clenched his jaw, but otherwise he didn’t react. “Tell me so I can understand”

“No”

“Talk to me, Geralt!”

“I can’t!” His voice, suddenly loud, startled you. It resonated in the emptiness of the forest, scaring the birds away. It echoed in your heart, reminding you that your last hope was ruined.

“I see...” You saddly nodded your head, sharply breathing in when the tears rolled down your cheeks. “But I must ask you once more... are you sure you want to do this?”

Geralt tensed up, taking a deep breath. His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, even then. His brow furrowed, as though it tried to speak all those words he refused to say aloud. His amber eyes glanced your direction, admiring you for a split second before he looked away yet again.

“You better be sure of this decision, witcher” You coldly told him, gritting your teeth yourself. “I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. His exterior was a perfect facade of ice. You shook your head, knowing his warm interior. That feeling and bleeding heart that he had protected with those inconquerable walls.

“Fine” You reached out for his calloused hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was the last display of affection that you allowed him and yourself. “Goodbye, Geralt... see you never”

You turned around, refusing to look at him. His lips trembled, even if you couldn’t see. He parted them, hesitating to say some last words of farewell, of apprecation for all those wonderful moments you had given him. But he remained silent, not wanting to fall into the temptation.

Geralt heaved a sigh as he watched you walk away, but that was the only thing he allowed himself. He only stood there. He let you go. For your own good.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist

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[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Subaru Route ー Chapter 1

Yui: ( I have to retrieve my heart no matter what…! )

ー The scene starts in the area surrounding Bernstein Castle

Subaru: Oi, stay focused. 

Yui: Ah...Sorry, Subaru-kun. I got a little worried...

Subaru: Che...The problem’s not gonna fix itself by sittin’ ‘round, right? We just have to go look for it.

Yui: Right...I guess heading towards the city area is our best bet for now?

But how can we get there? Do you know the way?

Subaru: Well...I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t but...It’s pretty far away from here.

Yui: I see. It might take a while then.

Subaru: ...

...Come here for a sec.

Yui: Eh? ...Kyah!?

ー Subaru pulls her close

*Rustle*

Subaru: ...There we go.

Yui: W-Wait, Subaru-kun!? What has gotten into you!?

( He picked me up!? )

Subaru: Whatcha mean? ...We’re gonna fly there.

Yui: Eeh!?

Subaru: ...If we take the slow route and walk, your heart may not last, right?

Yui: Ah...

( I see...This is his way of showing concern... )

But, still, I’m a little scared of flying there...

Subaru: I’m gonna bite your tongue if you keep complaining! Now shush and let me carry youーー!

ー He leaps into the air

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the city area

Yui: ( Thanks to Subaru-kun, we reached the city in the blink of an eye... )

Things are more lively here than I expected.

Subaru: Yeah...There’s way too many people, it’s pissin’ me off...

Yui: ( Subaru-kun may say that but...The Demon World’s Parade seems kind of fun. )

( But, I’m sure I would have been able to enjoy it much more...If only we didn’t have other objectives already. )

Subaru: ...

Yui: ( ...No, there’s no helping it. Right now, we have to search for my heart. )

What should we do now?

Subaru: That’s not even a question! We’re gonna storm that darn castle and give Count what’s-his-face a good beatin’!

Yui: Eh!? Violence isn’t the answer...!

Subaru: You think I give a damn!? That guy had the nerve to steal somethin’ so important to you!

He should be happy he gets away with just a few punches!

Anyway, let’s head to the castle. We can talk ‘bout that later.

ー The scene shifts to the front gate of Bernstein Castle

Yui: Wah...What a large castle...

( Is this...Bernstein castle...? )

( The gates are closed shut, so I doubt it’ll be easy to get inside... )

*Thud*

Subaru: Che...We can’t get in like this...

This castle...It has an anti-Vampire barrier surrounding it...

Yui: A-A barrier...!?

Subaru: Shit! Fuck him and his petty tricks!

...Ugh!

*THUD THUD*

Yui: Wait, Subaru-kun...!? 

Subaru: If we can’t get in normally...We just gotta force our way inside...! I’m gonna break through this shit!

*THUD*

Yui: You can’t do that!

Subaru: Some nasty bastard stealin’ other people’s shit deserves no better...There!

*Crumble* 

Yui: ( Ah...The wall...! )

Subaru: Heh...Look at that. It’s more fragile than I thought. I might actually be able to kick a hole through. Hehe...

Yui: ( He’s completely set on destroying it...! What should I do...!? )

???: ーー Hold it.

Yui: Eh...?

( That startled me...Someone appeared out of nowhere... )

Subaru: Aah? Who the fuck are you?

Butler: ...My sincere apologies for the belated greeting. I am one of the butlers employed here. 

Yui: ( Here? ...So he works for Count Walter...? )

Subaru: And what does his butler want from us? We’re here to see the Count himself.

Butler: Yes, of course. I am aware.

ーー My master is waiting for you two inside. This way, please.

Subaru: Hah?

ー The gates open

Yui: ( Eh? ...They’ll let us in so easily...? )

Subaru: Wait, it might be a trap of some sorts...

He went as far as to put up a barrier ‘round his castle. I can’t imagine he’d meet us without a catch. 

Butler: It is most definitely not a trap.

My master said that he would rather not have the outer walls destroyed any further.

Yui: Ah...

( We can’t deny that one... )

Butler: ...Well then, please enter.

Subaru: ...

Che...Oh well, let’s go.

Oi, we don’t know what’s waitin’ inside...So don’t you dare leave my side, okay?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

ー The two of them enter the castle

Butler: Please make yourself comfortable here for a bit.

Subaru: ...Hmph.

Yui: ( I almost feel a little relieved (1) after we came here expecting the worst... )

Perhaps we don’t need to be so alert...? 

Let’s just sit down for now. 

Subaru: Che...

*Thud*

Yui: ( Waah...The outside looked splendid as well, but the interior is just as luxurious... )

Subaru: Oi, don’t look ‘round too much.

Yui: Ah...Sorry. I couldn’t help myself...

Subaru: Geez...

Butler: I have prepared a cup of tea as well. 

*Cling*

Yui: T-Thank you very much! Let me have a taーー

Subaru: Don’t drink it!

*SHATTER*

Yui: Ah...

( Seems like Subaru-kun is still alarmed after all... )

???: ...Well, well...Now that’s a guard dog if I’ve ever seen one..

Subaru: ーー Who’s there!?

Yui: ( Where is his voice coming from...? )

Count Walter: My name is Walter. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sakamaki Subaru and...the young lady over there.

Well, that being said...It might not be the first time the two of us meet...

Yui: ( Eh...? )

Subaru: Spare me the formalities! Show yourself already!

Count Walter: ーー I refuse.

Subaru: ...Excuse me!?

Count Walter: I am not as foolish as to carelessly extend my hand towards a ferocious watchdog who seems ready to lash at me any second.

However, let me praise you for your cautious behavior.

Subaru: What did you expect!?

Yui: ( Subaru-kun... )

Subaru: Give back her heart already!!

Count Walter: Sorry to disappoint, but I cannot do that.

Subaru: Aah? And why not!?

Count Walter: I have yet to come to a conclusion.

Yui: A conclusion...?

Count Walter: Yes, exactly. Young lady, whether or not you are a fit candidate for this unique heart ーー

I do not know yet. As long as I am not convinced, I simply cannot hand this back to you.

Subaru: Haah!? What kind of bullshit is that!?

For one...That’s not somethin’ you get to decide, is it!?

*CRASH*

Yui: Ah!

( The vase...He broke it...!? )

Count Walter: ...! That vase...!

Subaru: Ah? What ‘bout it?

Count Walter: Cut it out! Every piece of decoration in this castle is highly valuableーー

Subaru: Heeh, thanks for the information. In that case, I’ll make sure to make quick work of all of it.

...Take this!

*Thud*

*CRASH*

*Shatter*

Count Walter: Aah!

Subaru:  I don’t mind stoppin’ if you return her heart.

*CRASH*

Yui: Subaru-kun, you’re going too far!

( Count Walter has been left completely speechless... )

Subaru: ...What?

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: ...Why would you say that...When I’m doin’ this all for you...?

Che...

*SHATTER*

Subaru: There! What do you have to say now, huh!?

Yui: ( I doubt staying here will do the situation any good... )

Um...Subaru-kun? Why not calm down for now and then we can come back and try again later? 

Subaru: Aah? No need.

Also, you really think I’m gonna back down after we made it this far!?

Yui: But, look! Count Walter has gone quiet as well...

I doubt he’s willing to continue this conversation with us any further.

So...Please? Let’s go back for now? We have to find a place to stay for the night as well.

ー She pulls him away by his arm.

*Rustle*

Subaru: Ah, oi! Yui!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the gondola docks

Yui: ( I somehow dragged Subaru-kun this far but... )

Subaru: ...

Yui: ( He seems to be in a bad mood... )

Seems like we can at least take the gondola to return to the city. Shall we be on our way then?

Subaru: ...

Gondolier A: A ride for two?

Yui: Yes please.

Gondolier A: Off we go!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Rubien Canal

Yui: ( ...He’s been facing away this whole time...I want to tell him something though. )

Subaru-kun, you seeーー 

Subaru: ...What?

Yui: Um...Well.

I was happy you were trying to get my heart back.

Subaru: ...

Yui: But did you ever consider what might happen if the Count resorted to doing the same thing you did back there...?

Subaru: ...Haah!?

What I did...?

...

...Ah.

...You think that maybe he’ll destroy your heart as well...?

Yui: Y-Yeah...I think that’s a possibility.

Subaru: ...

...My bad.

I completely lost my temper...so I didn’t think that far ahead...

Sorry...

Yui: ( I made him sad...What should I do? )

Selection

→ Talk to him (☾)

Yui: S-Still...You did it with my wellbeing in mind, right?

Subaru: Yeah...Well...Obviously.

Yui: In that case...I’m very happy with that sentiment!

Subaru: ...

→ Don’t do anything 

Yui: ( However...It all started because my heart got stolen. )

( If he takes my words the wrong way (2), it might only makes things more awkward... )

Subaru: ...

Yui: ( Ah...I think I just made him even more sad...I should have said something. )

Yui: ( Hm...Isn’t there a better way to cheer him up...? )

( ...Right. )

Subaru-kun, I’m sorry but...Nn!

*Smooch*

Subaru: Wha...!? W-What are you doin’...!? 

Yui: ( Uu...It’s kind of embarrassing to take initiative to kiss his cheek but... )

...I know you did all of that for me so...I guess that was my way to...thank you...?

Subaru: ...Che...Fuck, don’t be doin’ that embarrassin’ shit...

For one...I only did it ‘cause I was pissed off...Not for your sake or anythin’...

Yui: Fufu...

( I’m glad. Seems like he calmed down a little. )

Well then...Shall we go apologize first and foremost? 

Subaru: ...Che, guess I have no other choice...

ー The scene shifts to the front gate of Bernstein castle

Yui: ( I’m sure the Count is very upset. )

( I hope he’ll forgive us... )

( However, if he doesn’t... )

Subaru: ...Oi.

Yui: ...Hm? What’s wrong, Subaru-kun?

Subaru: Wait one sec.

ー He walks away

Yui: ( There he goes...I wonder what has gotten into him...? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー Subaru returns

Yui: ( Ah...He’s back. )

Where did you go?

Subaru: ...Here, for you.

Yui: Eh...? A flower? Where did you get this...?

Subaru: They were handin’ them out over there, so I just went and got one.

So...Wipe that frown off your face already, okay?

Yui: Ah...

( Could it be...Did he grow worried because he realized I was feeling anxious...? )

Thank you, Subaru-kun.

Subaru: Hm...

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Ah...He grabbed my hand... )

( If we can show that our feelings are sincere, I’m sure the Count will be able to forgive us, right...? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to cafe Tarte Tatin

Yui: ( ーー Or so I thought... )

Subaru: Fuck, why!?

*Thud*

*Cling*

Yui: ( I can actually relate to Subaru-kun right now... )

Monologue

ーー Afterwards,

we  headed towards Bernstein castle,

for the second time...

However, no matter how many times we called out,

not even the butler showed up,

let alone Count Walter himself.

So with no other options at hand,

we entered a nearby cafe,

where Subaru-kun simply raged on.

Subaru: What’s that guy’s plan...!?

Yui: Hm...I guess we might have no other choice but to compensate for the broken goods....

Subaru: Sounds easy enough but...I don’t remember every single thing I destroyed.

Yui: R-Right...

( There was barely anything left of the stuff in the living room after all... )

But, I believe you dealt the most damage to the vases, the sculptures and...also some paintings, I think?

Subaru: I’m...impressed you remember all of that...

Yui: ( I was watching in panic after all... )

I did say we should compensate for them, but I’m pretty sure those were either unique art pieces. 

Or they’re extremely expensive so...What do we do now?

( Besides, I know near nothing about art... )

Subaru: ...

...The Old Man has this collection, you know.

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: Just like Count Walter, he enjoys going ‘round collectin’ all types of weird artworks.

Yui: Really?

Subaru: Yeah. There’s this shady Vampire who goes ‘round sellin’ art to the likes of them.

If I remember correctly...That guy should live in this city...

Yui: Eh? Then if we go see him...!

Subaru: ...Guess it’s worth talkin’ to him at least.

Yui: For sure! He might be the one who sold the Count some of the art pieces in his castle!

( Thank god, we somewhat settled on where to go from here...! )

Um...Then shall we go see him tomorrow?

Subaru: Yeah...I’m beat after everythin’ that went down today...

We should find a place to stay sooner rather than later and rest up. Tomorrow’s lookin’ to be another busy day after all.

ー The scene shifts to the lobby of Mondstein Hotel

Yui: Subaru-kun’s sure taking a while...

( He hasn’t returned since he left for the reception... )

Subaru: ...

Yui: Ah, Subaru-kun! Were you able to get us a room...?

( His behavior is a little off. Maybe they were fully booked...? )

Subaru: What do you think!? (3) There’s barely any rooms left ‘cause of the Parade...

Yui: Eh...?

Subaru: ...They’ve only got one room left.

Yui: Ah...Phew. I was worried about what we’d do in case they were fully booked...

We got lucky there’s one left!

Subaru: Why are you actin’ like it’s no big deal!? Do you know what that implies!? There’s only ONE room!

Yui: Eh? Y-Yeah...Is there a problem with that...?

Subaru: ...Ugh...

Do I have to spell it out for you...!? A man and a woman sharing the same room is obviously asking for trouble.

Yui: ...! ...Now that you mention it...

B-But...Isn’t it still better than not having anywhere to spend the night at all...?

( Besides, sleeping outside in the Demon World would be pretty dangerous, no? )

Subaru: ...Fuck, don’t you have any sense of danger at all...?

Yui: Eh? Did you say something just now?

Subaru: Shut up! I didn’t say anythin’!

Che...You can take the room. I’ll just find somewhere else to sleep.

Yui: Y-You can’t do that...! If you don’t get a proper night’s rest, it might affect you tomorrow...

Anyway, we were lucky to snatch the last room so let’s just take it?

Ah....But if you dislike the idea of sharing a room with me that much...I suppose I can consider it...

Subaru: I-I never said I dislike the thought of it, did I...!?

...

Fuck...Don’t blame me if somethin’ happens...

ー The scene shifts to the hotel room

Yui: ( We made it to our room at least, but... )

*Rustle rustle*

Subaru-kun...What have you been doing this whole time...?

Subaru: Can’t you tell? I’m drawing a line in the middle of the bed.

Yui: ( Where did he even pull that divider from...? )

Subaru: Listen up. Starting from here to the other edge is your side.

So don’t you dare cross this line. 

Yui: S-Sure...Fine by me...

( Uu...Now that I think about it, having to share a room with Subaru-kun does make me a little nervous... )

( The nerves are only just getting to me... )

ー They can hear noises coming from the outside

Yui: Hm? What could this sound be?

( Guess I’ll step out on the balcony. )

ー The scene shifts to the balcony

Yui: Waah...!

( There’s a drum and fife band performing over by the gondolas we boarded earlier! )

( I should go inform Subaru-kun as well! )

Hey, Subaru-kun, why don’t you join mーー

*WOOSH*

Yui: ( ...What? What’s this uncomfortable feeling inside my chest...? )

( Ah...I’m dizzy... )

Subaru: Oi, Yui! Everythin’ okay!?

ー She nearly collapses

*Thud*

Yui: Ah...Subaru-kun...

Subaru: What’s wrong? You gave me a scare when you suddenly lost your balance just now...

Yui: Sorry...My heart just acted weird for a second...

Thank you for supporting me.

Subaru: ...

...If that guy does somethin’ to your heart ‘cause I went on a rampage...

I don’t know what I’d do...

Yui: It only lasted for a few seconds and now everything seems completely fine again so...I’m sure it’s fine.

Subaru: ...Ugh...

This is the part where you get mad at me, no!? Why won’t you blame me!?

Yui: Well...

Judging from what we learnt about him today, the Count strikes me as the type of person who can appreciate a treasure when he sees one so...

I don’t believe he would thoughtlessly destroy something of value, don’t you think...?

So, no need to worry that muーー

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Wah...He wrapped his arms around me...! )

Subaru: ...Haah...You really are too kind and optimistic...

Yui: A-Am I...?

Subaru: Yeah. But...I don’t exactly...dislike that side of you.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...

...Thank you...

( Uu...How embarrassing... )

Ah! S-Subaru-kun! Look! They’re going to play again!

Subaru: ...Che...Who gives a damn ‘bout that shit? Focus on me right now.

For one...Don’t be gettin’ distracted by other stuff when I’m right here in front of you...

Yui: Fufu...Sorry...

Subaru: Che...I’m sure you’ll have another chance to watch the performance in the future, no?

But...Well, if you insist...I guess we can watch together.

Yui: ...Yeah!

( It’s a little embarrassing while he’s still holding me in his arms but... )

( Still, I’m happy we get to enjoy it together like this. )

These kinds of performances are kind of exciting, don’t you think?

( I know now’s not the time for that but... )

Subaru: ...

Yui: Ah...Sorry. I bet you’re not in the mood right now...

Subaru: No...It’s fine.

Yui: Eh...?

Subaru: ...I’ll fix this whole ordeal somehow...

So you just keep that dumb smile on your face, ‘kay?

Yui: D-Dumb...? How mean!

Yeah...But...Thanks.

( How strange...Subaru-kun shouldn’t have a body temperature but...For some reason, he feels warm. )

( He’s right here with me. )

( That alone is very reassuringーー )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) 拍子抜け can mean either ‘to feel disappointed/demotivated’ or ‘to feel relieved’ depending on the context. In this case, I chose ‘relieved’ because them being let inside the castle should be considered a good thing.

(2) フォローする obviously comes from the English ‘follow’ and is used whenever someone backs you up or tries to say something supportive/encouraging to improve the mood. In this case, Yui is worried about her words of support being taken the wrong way, so she decides to stay quiet.

← RETURN TO PROLOGUE

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 2]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ AYATO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ LAITO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ YUMA]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #4 [W/ AZUSA]

[girl-in-the-tower]

CHAPTER I

Ramshackle Dorm - Birthday Party Venue

Kore: Woah, to think the ghosts would go all out like this just for today! Even though I told them that they didn't have to bother with it, they wouldn't listen, at all... It's... It's kind of embarrassing to be fussed over like this! If it was Grim I would have understood but this, uh...

Ah! And I'm supposed to have a guest over today as well! Hm, I guess some tea should be in order... maybe some cakes as well... I wonder if there's any sugar left...

Ace: Yo!

Kore: Ah, just a moment- Oh, it's just you, Ace.

Ace: Ha? What's that supposed to mean? 'It's just you'? It's super rude to greet your dear guest like this, you know?

Kore: Is that so? But calling you a guest is...

Ace: What's that?

Kore: Hm...

Ace: Well, doesn't matter because my feelings were hurt either way! So I'll help myself to this krumkake to make myself feel better! Let's dig in~

Kore: Hey, that- Aaah, that was meant to be for Grim. He kept complaining all day yesterday that he should have a cake all to himself too since it's a special day so I woke up extra early just to make it for him. Now he's gonna be mad...

Ace: Haa? A whole cake just for that furball? You've got to be kidding me!

Kore: What are you talking about? You know how much he likes krumkake.

Ace: Nah, I doubt there's really anything that guy won't eat... But that's not the point. You're spoiling him too much. He's gotten really fat, you know?

Kore: It's fine. I still make sure he exercises and he looks cute round like that too, so it's not a problem.

Ace: No, I definitely still think there's something wrong here. Mainly with your head.

Kore: Haaaaaaa, you wanna pick a figh-

Ace: Oh, I almost forgot! Here you go!

Kore: ... What's this?

Ace: Isn't it obvious?

Kore: Well... Huh? Wait a minute- That can't-!

Ace: Ta-da! It's a limited edition Griffons varsity jacket that's been all the rage with Magift meatheads like you~

Kore: No way!! This is- This is-

Ace: Cool, righ- Hey!! Don't jump on me like that! You almost knocked me off the chair!

Kore: Sorry, hahaha! I was so happy I just couldn't contain myself! To think that I would be able to actually get my hands onto something so valuable!

Ace: Yeah, we figured you'd like i-

Kore: This season has really been a blessing from above for them, you know? Everybody is in top shape and playing at their best! I heard their new manager actually made them go through this super difficult training regime that has been working wonders for them. Though it's only speculation so far!

Ace: Uh, Kor-

Kore: If you ask me, it's definitely also thanks to those new brooms that they ordered for the team. The wood is apparently from the Valley of Thorns and super-resistant so they go all out without worrying about breaking them. For the moves that the team is pulling, they really need that propulsion time! Even a second helps when you're in a headlock. I remember back in the vs Mandrakes game that they switched brooms in between-

Ace: Heeeeey! You Magift boar woman! Can you hear me?

Kore: Wh-Why are you yelling like that?! I'm right next to you!

Ace: Haaaa, when you start talking about Magift you might as well be in a completely different world... No wonder they all think of you as the Magift Encyclopedia. I bet you have hundreds of useless pieces of information like that stuck in your head.

Kore: You-! Huh? What's this?

Ace: A-Ah! That!

Kore: It's rice pudding- Ah! It's homemade from the Mountains!

Ace: Hm? Ah, ye-yeah... That came with the jacket...

Kore: Eh? They put pudding in jackets when they sell them?!

Ace: O-Obviously! Don't tell me you didn't know? Bwahaha, man, you sure are clueless...

Kore: ... It's my favourite flavour too...

CHAPTER II

Ace: Alright, next to the first question!

Kore: Eh?! Question?! Is this a quiz of some kind?!

Ace: I guess you could think of it like that, so anyway- Your first question as today's birthday girl issssss: "If you were stuck on a deserted island, who would you take with you?" Hm, here it says that you can't pick members of your own dorm, but given that you guys don't even have a dorm, I'm not sure that the restriction applies. Not that it matters since you wouldn't choose Grim anyway, right?

Kore: Huh? Why not?

Ace: You're serious?! You'd pick that furball?! Hey, we're talking about a deserted island here so think carefully! Don't you want to get off it?!

Kore: Well, obviously I would... But...

Ace: But?

Kore: I can do that on my own.

Ace: Huh?

Kore: Survival is all about securing shelter, food and formulating an escape plan. If it's a deserted island I assume there would be some fauna and animals too, so we could feed ourselves through fruit gathering and hunting. It might be hard if we don't have any tools, however, but I think Grim's claws would be sharp enough to cut through the skin and meat fairly easily. I make sure he takes good care of them after all.

Ace: I-I see...

Kore: If there's no drinkable water then we'll have to boil some from the sea in order to deal with the thirst. Grim's flames, when properly utilized, would be able to do such a thing. Not to mention that he could start fires to keep us warm at night and to cook food to sustain us! Also, it could be a great emergency signal if we end up at sea and need rescuing.

Ace: You want to use him as a flare?!

Kore: That sounds so mean! I would only do that as a last resort, however! Grim's pretty sensitive about having his belly scratched so I wouldn't do anything to make him uncomfortable like that!

Ace: Haaaa, I get it, I get it! So you're saying that the furball has his practical uses too. But I can't help but worry about some flaws...

Kore: Flaws?

Ace: No matter how much you feed that glutton, his stomach will never be full, you know! Whatever provisions you managed to gather, he's sure to inhale them with the first occasion!

Kore: Wah- That's a horrible thing to say! There's no way my Grim is so selfish!

Ace: My Grim?! What is he?! Your child?! And he's totally selfish, you know!!

Kore: HAAAAA?! ARE YOU REALLY PICKING A FIGHT WITH ME?!

Ace: Ca-Calm down!! I take it back, ok?! You can bring the furball with you!

Kore: Hmph.

Ace: Seriously, getting this angry over that cat...

Kore: Isn't that normal? Grim is my special person, after all!

Ace: SPECIAL PERSON?!

Kore: The person you care for a lot, like they're part of you, right? Like Cay-senpai said!

Ace: I-I see, so that's...

Kore: Being on a deserted island isn't ideal, but at the end of the day I know I can be ok on my own. Farmwork, housework - those are things that I'm used to from the Mountains. Life isn't so easy back home, but we all make do with what we can - magic or no magic. Even if I'm stuck in a bad situation, I can manage to get through so I don't need anybody else.

Well, that's what I thought before I came to this place anyway...

Ace: ...

Kore: Besides you're wrong about something!

Ace: Huh?

Kore: In order to survive it's not just physical attributes that are important, but mental ones as well. And in that case, Grim has the real trump card!

Ace: He-He does?!

Kore: Mm! You see, Grim, he... has the cutest paws and the fluffiest fur in the world!

Ace: HUH?!

Kore: Mm! Every time I feel like giving up or am reaching the end of the rope, all I'd have to do is give his paw pads a little squeeze or lay on his tummy and my mood would instantly clear up again! In a situation full of despair like that it would make a world of difference, you know?

Ace: SO HE'S THERE JUST FOR MORAL SUPPORT?!

Kore: Well, that too! It's important after all!

Ah, this pudding is really good actually...

CHAPTER III

Ace: Haaaa, I give up... Your boar mind is way too difficult to understand...

Kore: HUH?!

Ace: Anyway, let's get on with our next question and- Ah.

Kore: Hm? What is it? You suddenly stopped in the middle of the sentence. Did the falcon get your tongue, hehe?

Ace: It's a cat, not a falcon! And I only stopped because- uh...

Kore: What?

Ace: "You're offered the chance to pick another dorm, which one would you choose?"

Kore: ...

Ace: I swear, that Headmaster doesn't even think of these questions at all...

Kore: Yeah, there's no way I can answer that...

Ace: I figured. So instead! "Please share your opinions on the dorms!"

Kore: Ah!

Ace: Nice, right? You can definitely count on me when it comes to quick thinking, you know?

Kore: ... I guess.

Ace: You guess?!

Kore: I'll start with Diasomnia then!

Ace: Hey, don't ignore-

Kore: Hm, I'm not really sure about the atmosphere there but- Don't you think that their interior decor is pretty fancy? I haven't seen stuff like that in magazines for quite a while, so I feel like it's definitely something that must have required a lot of work! It's kinda dreary though, what will the windows not letting enough light and the greenery around it could stand to be looked after better, hm...

Ace: So you're only interested in the decor, huh? Alright, what about Ignihyde?

Kore: It's too technological.

Ace: Huh, I guess that you're right. For somebody like you, it would really be a struggle living there...

Kore: ...

It's even more depressing than Diasomnia, so I feel like I would be stuck in a bad mood without enough sunlight, you know? Though I must admit, it really is super clean inside! That's a very important detail! Clean homes are necessary for good health!

Ace: There you go again, sounding like a mom... Next is Pomefiore!

Kore: IT'S SUPER FLASHY!

Ace: I know~?

Kore: No, no, you don't get it! It's so flashy it actually scares me! All that pomp and glamour! The rugs themselves look like something from the fall collection that sold out about twenty years ago and the chandeliers are bound to be at least four times Theo's salary! Walking through those hallways is like stepping on opulence! A continuous loop of flashiness!

Ace: HEY! Get a hold of yourself! Let's go over to- Ah, Scarabia...

Kore: It's so hot there!!

Ace: Oh, yeah, you're super weak to heat so you'd definitely hate it there. Right?

Kore: Mm, hate is... I think that if it was the old me, I would never have even stepped in there. But now I feel like... Yeah! I definitely think that I can give it another try! Scarabia is pretty rich too, but it feels more homely? There's a lot of people gathered around and there are banquets and feasts pretty often too. It's always lively and warm... In a way, I imagine that's what a home would feel like...

Ace: ...

Kore: I can't say the same for Octavinelle however. Hmph!

Ace: Bwahaha, that's true. It really feels like you'd get scammed in there pretty quick.

Kore: Not even that! But building a dorm underwater? I admit the decor is pretty nice and classy, but the atmosphere is too cold! There's a lot of types that I can't get along with at all so it would definitely be a miserable time for me. No, I definitely don't want to set foot there ever again!

Ace: I totally get it~ All that commotion after the exams was enough for me too. Guess the same goes for Savanaclaw too, then?

Kore: ...

Ace: HA?!

Kore: I-I refuse to believe that anybody who loves Magift is a bad person!

Ace: There's that meathead in you talking again! Are you seriously that obsessed with it?! I feel like there's a sickness that applies in this case!!

Kore: He-Hey!! That's way too- I understand that what they did was bad, and I definitely haven't forgiven Kingscholar-senpai yet, but there are definitely good points to them as well! I think!

Ace: So you're not even sure?!

Kore: A-Anyway, as for Heartslaybyul-

Ace: Don't go changing the subject!

Kore: - if I had to pick that would be my favourite.

Ace: Huh?

Kore: I love Scarabia too, a lot, but at the end of the day all that rich atmosphere is scary. I really don't feel like I would belong there at all. I'd stick out like a sore thumb among everybody else - more than usual at the very least. But in Heartslaybyul, even if Rosehearts-senpai is strict, I feel like everybody is sort of content with the oddness. There's not much that stands out about it, but I think that's what makes it so appealing, you know?

Ace: ... So... what you're saying... Is that we're a shabby dorm full of weirdoes?

Kore: I-I wouldn't go that far...

Ace: But that's the gist of it, isn't it?!

Kore: Ummmmm...

Ace: ... Alright, I get it.

Kore: Huh?

Ace: You know, it just so happens that there's one more thing I have to tell you about.

Kore: One more thing?

Ace: Yup! You see, there's this tradition where the presenter has to give the 'gift of fortune' in order to make sure this ends up being a great birthday! And it just so happens that you're lucky enough to have me here today to deliver the goods~

Kore: Huh? What are you-

[SPLATTER]

Kore: ...

Ace: BWAHAHA, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST STOOD THERE LIKE THAT!

Kore: ...

Ace: Oh man, the look on your face is hilarious! Oh, let me take a quick picture to show the others too!

Kore: ...

Ace: Ok, so then- He-Hey! Don't- AUGH! MY FOREHEAD!

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons 2/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Gen (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 3449

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: Second chapter, woooo!! We are slowly getting more into plot details B) There's so much stuff I have already written out that I cannot wait to show you all

CHAPTER 2: THE DEMONS OF ELDIA

Eva tried to control her breathing the best she could while maintaining her gaze on the Chief, frozen.

That imposing figure standing proudly on top of the stairs was her husband to be.

Her father’s voice echoed loudly in her mind, chastising her for her lack of manners. How dare she stare at her betrothed? She was being rude, uncouth, and back in Gottesreich this wouldn’t have gone unpunished.

Eva didn’t see the way those calculating eyes narrowed when she teared her eyes from him and resumed the stance she was taught to maintain: head down in a display of submission, eyes glued to the floor and mouth shut. She also didn’t see a pair of steel gray eyes bore into her, watching every move she made.

The Chief kept talking, despite his inquisitive gaze towards the Princess, while Moblit translated, introducing everyone on his side. It prompted Eva to look up again and meet everyone’s eyes out of courtesy, knowing it would be disrespectful and rude if she didn’t, but never stayed too long as she accidentally did with the Chief.

The Princess was surprised at the variety of shapes and sizes of Eldia’s best warriors, going from tall like that giant with the big nose, moustache and crossed arms –Mike, was it?–, to short and slim, like the man with black hair and impassive grey eyes with a permanent scowl etched on his face –Levi, the Chief’s right hand man, she should really remember that–, and more. But Eva couldn’t hide her shock when she saw women amongst them. This would be absolutely prohibited back in Gottesreich, not to mention the punishment for even thinking of stepping on a man’s role. But these women looked proud, fierce, and Eva couldn’t help but envy such confidence being openly displayed a little bit.

Eva felt her father’s disapproving eyes on the back of her mind, and reprimanded herself internally for even wondering about how it must feel to be in their shoes. Eva had her own role, her own duty to perform, as her Father incessantly reminded her; thinking about such things would lead her nowhere. She was here for one single and very clear purpose.

“Please, come inside, I’m sure we all want to be out of the cold.” Moblit’s calm voice shook her out of her reveries. The Chief gestured behind him, towards the entrance of the Great Hall, with a hand on his belt and his arm open to his side, a polite smile on his lips.

Prince Hans reciprocated the smile, nodding and looking at his siblings as if on cue to follow him inside. Flora and the soldiers that accompanied them were ushered away from the monarchs, only letting the personal bodyguards go in with them, as protocol demanded, and it caused a knot on Eva’s stomach to not know where Flora was being taken. She only hoped they would all be alright. Sensing her distress, Moblit turned to address the royal siblings and ease her mind.

“The horses and luggage will be properly taken care of, as well as your men and maidens, your Highnesses. Any request you shall have please make it known, and we will try our best to comply.” Eva wanted to scoff at that, having several requests herself. She wanted to go home, please.

“Thank you kindly, Moblit.” Prince Hans replied. Eva prayed to God the Eldians would keep their word.

Upon entering the Great Hall warmth instantly greeted them, as well as a breathtaking view. Eva didn’t want to admit it, but the interior of the Great Hall was beautiful. It was composed of wonderfully sculpted wooden pillars with the same intricate markings and runes from outside etched in them, truly the masterpiece of very skilled artisans. She could even make out some animals on the relief carvings, merging with the patterns. The whole room was illuminated with the pale sunlight from the windows, as well as the warm glow of the fires roaring to both light and heat the room better. At the far end of the hall there were more steps, leading to a wooden platform where a big, imposing chair with thick pelts draped over it rested, undoubtedly like a throne. There was a smaller one next to it, with the beautiful markings and soft-looking pelts too, and Eva felt a chill at the realisation that it was for her.

They were led to a table surrounded with chairs, goblets already prepared to be poured wine to the guests. The Chief sat down, inviting his guests to do the same as him and his second in command. The Princes imitated their host, sitting on the opposite chairs and getting comfortable in them, and Eva waited for them to be already seated to do the same, silently, not drawing attention to her and carefully maneuvering her cloak and dress skirts to be in the pose she was taught to sit in: back straight, knees together and hands resting on them, crossed but never closing them in fists, legs–

“Wine, your Highness?” Moblit’s soft voice startled her, looking at the Eldian servant holding the wine decanter right above her goblet, waiting to pour it. Eva quickly looked at her brothers, already having been served and goblets in hand and taking a sip. Even if back at Gottesreich’s court it would be improper for a lady to drink wine out of a social gathering, it would be impolite and disrespectful to refuse.

Be good. Cause a good first impression. Be good. Don’t bring dishonor to your Kingdom. Be good–

“Yes, please.” Eva tried to not let her voice raise too much, knowing she shouldn’t be speaking while her brothers or other men were.

Eva didn’t notice the way the Chief’s eyes quickly shifted to her upon hearing the small exchange, too engrossed on maintaining proper Gottesreichan manners.

The Princess ventured a sip from her goblet and was met with a rich, powerful flavour with a hint of spices in it exploding on her taste buds. Her eyes widened and eyebrows rose, trying not to cough at the strong wine; that would be beyond rude and disrespectful. She gulped down the Eldian wine, hoping no one noticed it.

One of the Chief’s warriors, the giant one (Mike! She had to start remembering names), huffed, amused at her reaction. Her wish was not met as she also saw the Chief chuckle into his own goblet while listening to Moblit’s translations.

Perfect. Just perfect. Way to make good impressions.

The conversation seemed to momentarily change its topic as the Chief asked something and everyone became silent. Moblit’s voice made her look up from her goblet.

“Not used to strong wines, your Highness?

Eva’s gaze briefly traveled from Moblit to the Chief, who was looking at her with the corner of his mouth lifted, as well as one of his bushy eyebrows. The Princess hurriedly looked at her brothers, who were awaiting as well. Hans encouraged her with a slight nod. They were waiting for her response.

Oh.

“I am deeply sorry, my Lord, I meant no disrespect.” Her grip on the goblet tightened, trying her hardest to not let her voice waver. “I am indeed not used to strong flavoured wines, or wines themselves.” She tried to finish with a polite smile.

The Chief’s eyes had a curious glint in them, nodding at Moblit’s words. He replied something, and Eva dreadfully awaited Moblit’s translation. She really hoped she didn’t offend him or any of the Eldians present.

“Then, what are you used to, your Highness?”

This much attention on her was making her nervous. They shouldn’t be focusing the conversation on her, there were more important matters to discuss than her tastes!

“Coffee. Or tea, also, my Lord. But do not fret over it, I am sure I will get used to wine in no time.”

Would she? Eva doubted it, but if she had to, she would. Although she would deeply miss her morning cup of coffee…

The Chief hummed, instantly turning to one of his men to tell them something, and Eva watched as the warrior disappeared to carry on the Chief’s errand. She looked back at the Chief, seeing him share a brief smile at her before returning to the previous topic.

Eva tried to pay attention, but the thought of having hurt the Eldian’s feelings gnawed at her.

The warrior returned some time after with a steaming cup in his hands. Eva noticed he was that short warrior that stood next to the Chief when both parties presented themselves, with the cold and impassive grey eyes. He offered the cup to Eva, patiently waiting for her to take it. The Princess obliged, thanking him even if she knew he probably didn’t understand a word she said.

“My apologies for not having coffee, your Highness. I hope tea can suffice.” Moblit once again spoke to her, the Chief turning to face her in his chair, awaiting her response.

“Please don’t apologise, my Lord. This is more than enough.” Eva briefly looked down at the cup, then up at the Chief with another polite smile. “I am thankful for your kindness.”

Smile, smile, smile. Always smile.

Trying to divert everyone’s attention away from her and let the conversation go back to where it was, Eva ventured a taste. Her nose picked up the delicious aroma of the tea, and her mouth was filled by the sweet flavour, finishing with a touch of spiciness at the end that made her want more. Eva raised her brows, surprised but satisfied. She took another sip, erasing any traces left of the wine from before. It wasn’t coffee, but this tea was an agreeable alternative.

“I take it you liked it, your Highness.” The Chief wasn’t done with the conversation, and Eva didn’t understand why the Chief was so adamant to make her talk, or even try to engage her into a conversation besides the ones between the princes and himself. She wasn’t there for that.

“I do, my Lord. This is a blend I haven’t had the chance to try before, thank you for letting me have a taste of it.”

The Chief let out a soft chuckle and began talking again. Eva awaited Moblit’s translations, delicately holding her cup.

“Ah, I’m afraid I am not the tea expert here. Levi is, so please feel free to ask him more about his blends.” The Chief gestured towards the short warrior, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“I will. Thank you, my Lord.” Another polite smile on her lips.

That seemed to end the conversation for now. Eva kept drinking the tea, listening to what was being said. She shouldn’t zone out, not when this concerns her too.

The Gottesreichan Princes excused the King for not coming himself to Eldia because of urgent matters that required his presence, but Eva knew the truth behind that, having heard her father with the other advisors in the throne room already discussing plans beyond her daughter’s marriage, and being greeted by her brothers the same day they departed with sad smiles on their faces.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth, knowing the King, her own father, couldn’t stay away one minute from his plans on how to maintain the Kingdom’s borders, or how to expand them, too.

He didn’t even think about walking her to her awaiting carriage, and she was graced only by a quick kiss on her forehead when Eva went to look for him and found the King still in his chambers. But her father made sure she didn’t forget how his daughter would represent their beloved Kingdom in foreign territories, how she had to bring both civilization and manners to the barbarians. All this, while intensely staring at the map hanging on his wall.

Not a single look at her.

The King was not at the courtyard to send them off. Did not wave goodbye, did not do what any father would do when they knew their daughter would never come home again to start a new life somewhere far away. He only expected her to do a good job as she was taught to do.

This is all Eva knew about fatherhood from the day she was born, an absent paternal figure that only looked at her when she did good. And she always strived to do good. She had to. Father would spare a glance if she did.

Hans often tried to unconsciously supply and fill that void her father left when he wasn’t chained down by his own princely duties, recalling when she was a little girl how he would take her to the Capital’s festivities and let her stuff her mouth full of sweets. Or when he would indulge in her imagination and games, running around the castle slaying dragons, which often made Friederich play the part of the dragon going down with theatrics that put court jesters to shame, or playing hide and seek, or when the royal tailor made a new dress for her how he would compliment and praise the craftsmanship, and of course how she looked pretty in it.

The days where both her brothers took her on strolls around the Castle woods were the happiest for her, getting to hop from horse to horse and run around the meadow without being reprimanded for it. Rolling in the grass, chasing birds and squirrels, picking up flowers to make flower crowns that would lately put them on both her brother’s heads...

Sadly it ended when Father decided it was time for Eva to start her studies and long preparation to be his perfect little princess. Her brothers had less and less time to spend with her, and Hans was almost absent all the time with the pressure of being the Crown Prince.

Still, Hans and Friederich found a little loophole in Father’s strict schedule, using their diplomatic travels as a perfect excuse to make their little sister tag along, always with the excuse to further prepare her for her upcoming future.

But now there was no little loophole anymore.

The Chief and the Gottesreichan princes were discussing dates and procedures, and agreed on carrying on the Eldian traditions and rituals, as well as have the ceremony here in Eldia. Eva had uselessly hoped it would maybe be carried in Gottesreich, respecting the bride’s lineage, or maybe a double one, but her wishes would not be granted. She drowned her sigh with a sip of her tea.

They finally decided that a spring wedding would be the best, knowing the roads were hard to travel with the immense amounts of snow in them, and they wouldn’t want the guests to be inconvenienced by it. Besides, for Eldia spring was important, and it would be just perfect to celebrate a wedding. The Chief tried to include the Princess on this decision, asking her if she liked spring, which she replied that she did, not really enjoying the cold.

That settled it then. It meant two months of preparations, approximately. Maybe a few weeks less, depending on the weather conditions.

Two months.

Dread twisted her stomach.

“I hope you will find your life here pleasant, your Highness. I understand the shock and differences between our people, but we will accommodate you the best of our capabilities.”

The Chief was paying attention to her again. Why? Why was he trying to fake kindness? Eva knew he only pretended because her brothers were present, why else would he? Eva was just an asset, a bargaining chip, so why go to such lengths for someone from another Kingdom such as her? A twisted sense of humour? That would fit, weren’t they demons?

Her father made her memorise the words and movements she was about to spit and act out, telling Eva how that is what every man wanted to hear from their future bride. Eva found the comment crass, even coming from Father, but still complied as she was trained to do.

Eva set the cup on the wooden table, moving gracefully as she let her right hand touch her heart, lowering her head in the submissive display she was taught to never slip out of.

“Thank you for your consideration towards my well-being, my Lord.” Head still lowered, eyes closed— “I hope I can perform my marital duties beyond your expectations, my Lord, and that I am to your liking. I will do my best to ensure your needs are met and fulfilled.”

Eva then resumed her previous position as she heard Moblit translate her words. Eva ventured a look towards her brothers, finding twin saddened expressions on their faces. She was shocked. Did she not do good? Alarmed, the Princess looked over the Chief, pushing aside the protocols and needing to know she did not displease the Chief, that Father wasn’t wrong.

The Chief looked troubled himself, as if some suspicions and thoughts he had from before had been confirmed right that instant. No no no– this was disastrous! Father told her it was imperative she did it, that it was what those brutes wanted from their wives, so why was the Chief not overjoyed to see such an obedient, docile behaviour from her?

The Eldian warrior looked like he wanted to say something that was on his mind, but ultimately decided to close his mouth. The Chief seemed to thoroughly think about what his next actions and words should be, so instead of replying to the Princess as she thought he would do, with a lecherous and satisfied smirk, he chose to tightly smile and bow his head as if in acknowledgement of her words.

It didn’t settle well in her stomach, and Eva had never been more confused than she was right now.

What was this man playing at?

Moblit’s strong but soft voice cut through her musings.

“You surely must be tired from the journey, your Highnesses. Please, allow us to escort you to your rooms so you can rest until tonight’s banquet. Baths will be ready, too.”

Yes please! Eva wanted nothing more than to run to the safety of four walls and a tightly closed door, and Flora to embrace her like she always did when Eva got overwhelmed.

“We indeed are, thank you. Those carriages don’t do anyone’s back a favour.” Hans laughed, accompanied by Friederich’s chuckle and the Chief’s shaking of shoulders. Eva was eagerly awaiting for Hans to get up so she could follow and get out of there, too. A warm bath sounded so nice. “Eva, do you mind going before us?”

Wait.

What?

From Hans apologetic face, and Friederich’s gaze avoiding her, this was something they had planned beforehand.

“Brother,” Eva tried not to raise her voice or make her desperation known. She didn’t want to go alone, to be alone with those people supposedly taking her to her rooms. What if they didn’t? “please.”

“Eva,” Hans turned to face her, getting a hold of her tightly clasped hands. “we are deeply sorry– no, don’t give me that look, we are.”

Like Hell they were!

“Hey, Birdie” Friederich always used that nickname with her since they were little kids, so him using it right now conflicted Eva’s feelings. Her brother always used it when he wanted to make her feel safe, but right now it wasn’t really working. “Trust us. We will be right behind you, okay?”

“But–“

“We only need to discuss some matters, that’s all.”

“Hans–”

“Yes, very boring matters that will make you fall asleep. You go rest, Birdie.”

When her brothers synched with each other it was a losing battle for Eva. Knowing this, she promptly closed her mouth into a thin line, resigned. Swallowing down a sigh, Eva forced a smile on her lips as she spoke to the Eldians, focusing on the Chief.

“Excuse me for my behaviour, my Lord. I will gladly take your offer and let you men discuss what you need to talk about.”

The Chief nodded, asking Levi once again to comply with his requests and accompany the Princess to her room, taking almost every guard with him. Eva gracefully raised herself from her seat, making a short reverence to the people present in the room.

“Thank you for the tea, my Lord, it was most delicious.”

Eva followed Levi to exit the Great Hall, leaving the three men inside and trying hard not to dwell in it. She had no right to pry into men’s matters, and she best accepted it quickly. They watched her disappear through the door with Mike’s towering form closing the little entourage.

It hurt both brothers, but it had to be done.

[thesassenachswiftie]

Lover Chapter 5 - “False God”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Summary:

Claire has made up her mind to end things with Jamie. How will he react when she makes a confession to him?

Notes:

Thank you all for following along on this journey. We left off in a pretty angsty spot and the angst is going to continue for a bit here.

New chapters every Friday, moodboard release every Monday, previews on Wednesday

Chapter 5:  “False God”

Claire managed to somewhat keep it together all morning as they picked up their discarded clothes scattered about the room, grabbed a quick breakfast and got on the road.  Jamie, of course, noticed the look on her face shortly after waking.  When he inquired, she blamed a hangover (which wasn’t entirely a lie) and assured him she would be fine. She would not be fine, and neither would he, she suspected.  He seemed so chipper, so alive, like he was ready to conquer the world.  She knew she was a terrible person to do this to him, but if she didn’t do it now it would be so much worse for the both of them later.  She decided to tell him when they were about a half hour from her house. That way, if he left her on the side of the road--which she wouldn’t blame him for--she’d be close enough to call Jo to come pick her up. She had made sure her phone was charged the night before if that was to be the case.

 For the first stretch of her trip, she remained quiet, still blaming the hangover and staring out the window as Jamie talked about Scotland and England and all the places he’d love to take her and people he wanted to introduce her to there.  She tuned out most of what he was saying.  She couldn’t bear dreaming with him, and needing to mentally rehearse what she would say when the time came.  She watched the road ahead of her, trying to focus on the movement of the car instead of the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Eventually, the time came--she couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Jamie, we were crazy to think that this could work” she blurted out, more abruptly than she had intended.

“I know Claire, but we might just get away with this, it’s going great so far--”

“No Jamie, I mean, this isn’t going to work.  We can’t keep seeing each other like this, and what’s going to happen when you leave?”

“Have you not been listening to me for the past hour? Remember how I said I’d fly ta ya? What are you doing Claire?”

“We were stupid to jump in with an ocean separating us.  We can’t just fly back and forth whenever we feel like it.  It’s not realistic.  We’re living in a fantasy world, Jamie. We’re living in a dream and it’s time to wake up to reality.”

“Claire, I--”

“No, let me finish.  I know I’ve had a setback in my career, but I still want to be a doctor.  I’m not going to be able to spend any time with you when I do eventually start my residency, whether you fly here or not.  It’s not fair to you or me.  It’s not fair to you that I keep you away from your family.  It’s not fair to you that you have to sneak around and lose sleep on my account.  I’m doing this for you, believe it or not.”

Jamie’s hands gripped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white, his jaw tightened and his face felt hot as something within him broke. “Claire, how could ye possibly be doing this for me when it isna what I want at all?” He reached for her, knowing it would be easier to talk to her if they touched.

Claire stared out the passenger window, arms crossed across her chest, shrinking herself as far away as she could. “Don’t touch me.” she hissed.  She knew she couldn’t do this if they touched, she’d be lost in him again, it was taking all her resolve to say her piece.

Jamie, ever the gentlemen, knew even something as small as a touch on the shoulder was something that needed consent, and reluctantly put his hand back on the steering wheel. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite.  God dammit Claire, it’s hell when I fight with you.”  He felt so frustrated, he couldn’t understand how less than twenty-four hours ago she confessed her love to him and now she was doing this. “This canna possibly be what you really want.  We belong together, we were meant to meet Claire, we were meant to be together. Ya really wanna leave?  Go ahead, try and leave me, try and tell me honestly that’s what you really want.”  He thought if he could scare her maybe she’d come to her senses and change her mind.

The tears were flowing freely from Claire's eyes now.  “Yes.” she said quietly.  “Jamie, I’m New York City, you’re the English countryside, we don’t belong together, we don’t fit together.  If this was meant to be we’d be on the same path, and we’re just not.”

You’re not New York City, you’re my Sassenach, you don’t belong to any place, that’s what I love about you, you just belong with me. Jamie thought to himself. “Claire, I can’t let you go that easy.  I love you so much, I’d die for you Claire.  If you want me to fly to you every week, I will, I swear to it, tell me what to do Claire.”

Claire’s resolve was weakening, he wasn’t supposed to keep loving her, to keep worshipping her as if she were worthy of his love. She only had one thing left to say, the confession she hoped she wouldn’t have to share. The last thing she wanted to ever tell him, but the thing that might finally make him leave.  “I’m not what you think I am Jamie.  I lied to you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“That first night we were together, I told you Frank broke up with me… he didn’t. I didn’t even talk to him. I used you.  I wanted you, I wanted to piss Frank off--I was bored and lonely and horny and I lied to you to get my way.  That’s the type of person I am, I’m not this wonderful person you’ve made me out to be.”

All he could do in reply was grunt a Scottish noise of disapproval. Her confession ignited a livid fire in him, he didn’t know what to feel or how to respond.  He would never have consented to sleeping with her that night knowing she still belonged to Frank. God, she was engaged to him for heaven’s sake. How could she let him do that, knowing how he felt about the situation. He had been under her spell, completely captivated by her, and he didn’t know if he fully regretted it. The final minutes of their car ride continued in heated silence. The air in the car was thick with something that felt like it would ignite and burn up fast if either of them uttered a word. 

Jamie dropped Claire off at the end of her street as she had requested earlier, she grabbed her weekender bag from the backseat and softly said “Goodbye, Jamie” before shutting the door, not daring herself to look at him as she did. She walked to her house as quickly as she could and collapsed to the ground sobbing as soon as she was inside her door. She knew it was for the best, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

----------

            Jamie drove away from her, glancing one last time at her figure in the rearview mirror in spite of himself.  He felt betrayed, upset, confused and aimless. Above all, he felt heartbroken. They had warned him about times like these--his father, his Godfather, even his brother-in-law.  “When you fall in love”, they said, “the road gets hard and you get lost in it” and Jamie was just now figuring out what they meant.  He had been following her with blind faith, doing anything she asked without a thought, sneaking around--even allowing her to cheat with him, albeit unknowingly. He was still too eager, too willing. How could he forgive himself for that?  How could he allow a woman to consume him so deeply, body, mind and soul? Worst of all, who was he without her, now that she had walked away?

He found himself pulling into the parking lot of a Catholic church.  He didn’t attend weekly anymore, nor did his family.  “The Lord kens how difficult it is ta get seven bairns dressed and ready for church and the Lord kens how much we love him.” his sister Jenny would say.  He knew he didn’t need the church building to love and worship God. He also recognized that the Roman Catholic Church was as flawed and marred by sin as the worst sinner, but he still found something comforting and spiritual about visiting. Something about the waxy smell of candles and the glow the stained glass cast on the cold marble interior, made him feel like he was connected to something ancient and holy, something bigger than himself--and in this moment he needed something bigger than himself to help him make sense of this situation. He dipped his hand in the font and crossed himself as he entered, strode to the pews, and genuflected before taking a seat in the middle of the empty church.  He rested his forehead on his clasped hands, elbows resting on the back of the pew in front of him, ready to speak to the only one who could listen.  The one who knew him best and could help him sort through all the raw emotions that weighed so heavily on him in this moment.

He allowed the tears he’d been holding back to flow freely as he prayed: Lord, please have mercy on my soul for I am a sinner. I thought that you had made her for me, I selfishly thought that we were meant to be together. I tried to be good, I tried to respect and honor her. With her I knew heaven was a thing, I went there when I touched her. Lord, I confess I coveted my neighbor’s wife--well, fiancée if we’re being technical about it--but you of course know these things. I beg you for forgiveness for that, and I’m afraid I am guilty of a bit more than just coveting. Please forgive me for the sins I did not know I was committing.  Lord, if you did not make her for me, please, please, take my desire for her from me, I beg of you.  I fear even if she is a false god that I am still sorely tempted to worship this love.  However, Lord, if you did in fact make her for me, and me for her, as I believe you are good enough to do, please Lord, bring her back to me.  Heal her wounds and bring her back to me, I swear to you I’ll care for her, honor her and never let her leave me again.  I’ll do whatever it takes Lord, please, just free me from this pain I feel.  It’s too much to bear without her.

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker Next Door Neighbour AU

----

Tonys new neighbour is kinda weird.

Like, he’s not trying to be callous or anything. But he’s just, y’know. Strange.

They first met four months ago. 

The apartment opposite Tony’s had been vacant for only two weeks ever since old Mrs. Perry moved to Florida to retire with her grandkids. That was until one rainy Tuesday, when Tony sighted his new neighbour trudging down the hallway, hauling box after box through the elevator, whistling to himself as he relocated all of his belongings to 7C. 

Tony, on his way out, had first seen the guy trying to precariously balance a large box in his arms whilst trying to unlock his apartment door at the same time. Predictably, he’d dropped his keys and Tony had swooped in and picked them up for him.

“Oh my gosh, thank you” the guy had said earnestly, shaking Tony’s hand after opening his door. “Yikes, I’m such a mess. Mercury in retrograde, am I right?”

Tony had nodded, having no idea what he was talking about, and promptly left.

So, the new guy - Peter, he had later learned was his name - was cute. Fluffy curls, gorgeous skin, irresistible big brown eyes. 

But he was, y’know, a little bizarre.

Tony’s not even exaggerating. 

Every time he goes into the hallway he’s met with a sneeze-inducing wave of patchouli and incense, holding his breath as he passes, wondering if he is living next door to a Shinto shrine. Tony swears at night that he hears humming. Like, of the om mani padme hum kind of variety. He hears the distant clang of singing bowls and tuning forks at midnight when he’s turning in to go to bed. 

He thought about politely telling Peter to keep it down but every time he knocked on the door of 7C Peter just beamed at him in welcome and asked him about his day with genuine interest.

Tony bought ear plugs instead.

Tony swears that Peter can’t be any older than he is, early twenties at the youngest, but he says words like radical, dude and oopsy-daisy, groovy. One time he stubbed his toe around Tony and said fiddlesticks. He seems to be in and out at the weirdest times, waving burning sage at the letterboxes at three AM as if it were the normal thing to do.

“What do you even do,” Tony had asked one morning in the elevator. Peter was carrying a crate full of succulents, biceps bulging with the strain.

Peter looks down at his crate of plants and then back up to Tony as if it were obvious. The duh goes unsaid but Tony hears it.

“I’m a yoga teacher and a reiki practitioner,” he says, handing Tony a succulent from the crate.  

Tony blinks down at the small potted plant. 

“Um,” he says. 

“It’s an echeveria elegans,” Peter explains, smiling.

“Do you... want me to hold this for you?”

“No, silly,” Peter had laughed. “It’s yours. Keep it in the sunlight and try not to over-do it with the water.” 

Tony leaves the elevator more confused than before, clutching the succulent all the way to his 9:00AM class.

-------

Tony can handle weirdness. Tony can handle eccentricity. He can even handle the new plant he absolutely does not have time to care for and absolutely did not call Brenda.

But what Tony can’t handle is the ear-piercingly loud Gregorian chanting that comes from next door one night whilst he’s studying. Up for two days already, his concentration is shot by the guttural singing, the lead of his pencil snapping against his notebook in frustration. It’s nearly midnight for fucks sake.

Tony had stormed over, enraged and determined, and rapped his knuckles on the door for a good two minutes before it had swung open, a smiling Peter giving him a warm welcome on the other side.

“Do you mind?” Tony had demanded. “I’m trying to study for my thesis.”

Peter looked taken aback, contriteness making his big brown eyes dewy and soft. 

“Oh my gosh,” he’d said, extending a hand out, “I’m so sorry about that. Hang on, wait here. Please wait.”

So Tony had waited, expecting Peter to rush to lower the volume. Instead, he’d returned with a fist-sized, green and purple rock-crystal thing, presenting it to Tony with a grin. 

Peter had placed it in Tony’s palm, using both hands to curl Tony’s fingers over the heavy, polished stone.

“There,” Peter says proudly. “It’s fluorite.”

“It’s what,” Tony blinks.

“For clarity and concentration,” Peter explains, beaming a mile wide. “Keep it, okay? Good luck on your thesis.”

He’d closed the door, leaving Tony with a rock in his hand and the chanting continued.

Tony bought noise-cancelling headphones to put over his ear-plugs.

He definitely didn’t place the fluorite on his windowsill by his bed or smile at it sometimes or run his fingers over its smooth edges.

Ever since it’s been a never ending stream of peculiar behaviour, weird conversations about moon phases, etheric bodies and third eyes while waiting for their laundry to dry in the basement, the effect of the upcoming perigee syzygy on the neighbourhood and guessing Tony’s star sign.

“Cancer, right?”

“What?”

“Your zodiac sign,” Peter answers, rubbing at his eyebrow, pushing the hairs askew. His nails are painted black. 

“Gemini,” Tony answers warily, piling his underwear and bedsheets into his basket.

“Damn, I was close,” Peter smiles, pouring his own mixture of organic fabric softener into the washer. “I’ll figure you out yet.”

Tony wants to reach over and smooth down the raised hairs on his eyebrow. 

He’s a perfectionist, that’s all.

But in any case Tony just continues to go about his life, continues to study, grade his papers. He visits his optometrist and gets a new prescription and wonders how he is going to pay his phone bill when he spends more on heating over the winter than he intended.

It's all fine, whale music and white sage aside.

Not that he’d ever admit it, but it’s kinda nice.

-----

One day Tony rouses from his slumber to hear loud voices outside, the bellow of protesters on the main arterial street below. Tony thinks nothing of it and pops in his ear plugs, keen to get another hour of sleep before he has to be at his class. Being a TA is the worst.

Later, Tony watches the local news, watching in horrified fascination as his neighbour is one of the many arrested for protesting at a rally of a visiting Republican senator. 

“What’s with the pyjamas?” Tony had queried at the letterboxes the following day, roaming his eyes over the soft-looking Hello Kitty pants that Peter had been arrested and released in - and was still wearing. 

The pictures of his arrest had been on twitter for gods sake. He was trending as #hellokittyguy. It was all his students were talking about.

“Oh, I’d slept in,” was all Peter said. 

“You slept in. To a protest.” 

“Irresponsible, I know. I’m already beating myself up, don’t worry.”

At this stage, Tony can’t even find himself to be bothered by it. He’s so used to the sound of the koto, the wind flute and kalimba from next door that it’s damn near unsettling to go without it. Tony’s used to the weird attire, from the ponchos and the sandals and the fisherman pants in mid-winter, the beaded bracelets and rose quartz pendants. He’s even used to finding Peter knocking on his door, asking for salt or milk or handing him personalised organza bags filled with small crystals and incense cones and charms.

And if he looks forward to their talks at the door? It’s only Tony’s business.

One night Peter sets off the fire alarm from burning rope incense. He says he got it when he went to Nepal, apologising profusely to the grouchy occupants who send him withering stares.

Tony doesn’t even ask, too busy staring at Peters lithe, muscled frame that had been hiding under the baggy clothes. The man is clad only in his underwear, didn’t think to grab anything when he’d fled to the emergency meeting point. 

It’s three in the morning. Tony’s not even mad.

"Did you know your aura is gold and red,” Peter had asked that night, wandering over to him and accepting an offered a cigarette.

“No,” Tony yawned, taking a drag and wishing he was back in his own bed, fire truck lights flashing, dizzying and disorienting.

“S’nice. Pretty.”

Peter wraps his arms around himself and shivers, the cool night air sending goosebumps over his pale skin.

Tony quickly shrugs his own jacket off his shoulders and offers it to Peter so he doesn’t have to stare at the obscene way his nipples harden.

“Thanks, Tony. You’re a sweetheart.”

“I’m not - it’s not a big deal,” Tony grumbles. “You looked like you needed it, so.”

Peter smothers his smile in the collar of Tony’s jacket. Tony still sees it. 

His stomach squirms like the first time he held someones hand.

“Do you want to have dinner sometime?” Peter asks, as they pile back upstairs an hour later after the building has been cleared.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony agrees, eyeing the dimples of Peters lower back and the crevice of his muscles where his spine rests. He’s got an ass that’s so perfect it deserves to be worshipped but Tony isn’t looking at it. He’s not.

“Tomorrow work for you?”

Tony nods, watching Peter disappear back into his apartment with an awkward wave and a smile. He’s still wearing Tony’s jacket. 

If Tony goes back inside his apartment and jerks off to the image of Peter wearing just his jacket and nothing else, well then, no one else needs to know.

----

The following evening Tony knocks on Peters door, dressed in jeans and a nice shirt. He adjusts his glasses where they perch on his nose as he waits, sliding them up as Peter opens the door, beckoning him inside. 

The interior looks very different to Tony’s apartment, is the first thing he notices. 

Plants hang from the ceiling, there is a large afghan rug in the living room, all the furniture is mismatched, a sofa and an armchair with different patterns and colours, all the bookshelves are of different wood and sizes. 

There are cushions everywhere, crystals and rocks on almost every surface, incense burning by the open window, stacks and stacks of books on the divine and lunar charts on the walls. Michelle Branch is playing unironically from the speakers on Peters bookshelves.

“I didn’t know what to bring, so,” Tony mumbles, tearing his eyes away from a copy of the Karma Sutra and holding up store bought cake and a bottle of red wine.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Peter gushes, kissing Tony’s cheek and taking the items from him and herding him onto the sofa. “Sit, sit. I’ll be right back.”

Tony sits, a little dazed. The spot on his cheek where Peters lips touched his skin burns. 

There’s an old TV in the corner and a CD player straight out of the nineties nestled in the corner between book stacks. 

There’s two magazines on the coffee table: National Geographic and Cosmopolitan. God, Peter is so, so... 

Charming, is the word that comes unbidden to Tony’s mind when Peter bounds back into the living room, two glasses of wine clutched in his hands, the charms on his beaded bracelets clinking together. He’s barefoot, Tony notices. His toenails are painted black, too.

“So, I have a confession to make,” Peter begins, passing Tony a glass and sitting beside him on the sofa.

“Oh, god,” Tony winces. “You’re not an anti-vaxxer, are you?” 

He didn’t even think about that. 

“What,” Peter blinks. “No.”

“Okay, good. Sorry. Continue.”

“I’m, uh, kinda broke. I know I invited you to dinner but all I have is cup ramen and Corona.”

“Oh,” Tony says, watching at how Peter smiles sheepishly,  “That’s okay. I like cup ramen. I mean, I’m a student, so.”

“Is that okay?” Peter asks, cringing as he casts a look over to his tiny kitchenette. “Sorry, I was so shocked that you even agreed to come that I couldn’t even think.”

“Mercury in retrograde?” Tony guesses.

“No,” Peter laughs, looking at his hands bashfully. “You’re just really cool and handsome and sophisticated and I don’t know. It wasn’t in my tarot, so.”

It wasn’t in his tarot, Tony repeats in his mind, wondering when exactly he hit his head and found all of this attractive. He’s a man of science, alright?

“You been crushin’ on me, huh?” Tony asks, shifting closer until their thighs and shoulders touch.

“Yeah. You make me kinda nervous.”

“Well your tarot can’t tell you that I think you’re beautiful,” Tony reasons, sipping his wine. “Or delightful. Or that I think the way you swing your legs when you’re waiting for your drying is adorable.”

The flush that comes over Peters cheeks makes Tony’s heart beat faster.

“You really think that?”

“Against my better judgement,” Tony admits. 

“What was it that did you in?” Peter asks, leaning in, drawing his knees up and looking like a pleased cat. “Was it the green fluorite? The rutilated quartz?”

Tony leans in to bridge the gap, pressing his lips against Peter’s in a sweet kiss. He tastes like coffee and wine and everything smells like lemongrass and palo santo.

“Just your cute, quirky self,” Tony says against his lips. “And maybe the blue calcite.”

Peter laughs against his mouth. “I knew it.”

---

Later, when Tony is curled up against Peter’s bare chest, still catching his breath, Peter asks him on a second date.

“There’s a climate change rally at the State Library this weekend, if you’re interested. We could have matching signs and drink Corona after.”

“Baby,” Tony yawns, eyes heavy, “you do that thing with your tongue again and I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“Sweet,” Peter says, pressing a kiss into Tony’s hair.

Yeah, Tony thinks as he drifts off, it is.

[immortalcoelacanth]

Conductor x Oblivious!Reader Oneshot: Is it Still Called a Ship if it Involves a Train?

My muse is all over the place and I have tons of ideas, my mind cannot contain them all and I don’t know how I wrote this. Also as a heads up I’ve been thinking about backing up my other reader oneshots on Tumblr on AO3 just in case something happens, so if you see them there don’t be surprised. 

Wordcount: 2791

Summary: The Conductor loved his train and wanted it in peak condition, that was why he visited the repair shop so much, and of course you were always the technician who checked everything, you specialized in trains after all! It only made sense!

Now, what didn’t make sense was how oblivious you were to his feelings. 

“The Conductor’s back?! Again?! I thought we just checked out the train last week! Everything was fine!” 

“Maybe he blew some of it up again? Like in that one movie?”

“I doubt it! He’s just train crazy!”

You let out a chuckle at the banter between your coworkers as you clicked away your computer, scanning through the active tickets and what needed to be done after. You worked in a repair shop for all sorts of vehicles. Most of the customers had cars that needed to be checked out, but some had more unusual modes of transportation. 

Like the Conductor and his train. 

He was one of the more… interesting customers you had interacted with. He was loud, very loud, and self-centered. 

Not that he was ever rude to any of your coworkers, or your boss, but you assumed this was because you were the ones responsible for keeping his train in tip top shape. 

Granted, the pool of people responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of his train had slowly dwindled until you were practically the only one checking it out. This was mainly due to the fact that you were the one on site who was the most knowledgeable about trains, they had been your passion since you were a child, and… 

Well, for some reason the Conductor always wanted you to be the one doing the work. 

You assumed this was for consistency’s sake, and the fact that it would make it far easier for him to get to know you as it was generally a good idea for a mechanic and their long term customer to have a good relationship, but he was surprisingly insistent about it even if there were long wait times. 

Fortunately he was never rude to your coworkers while he waited, nor did he insist on rushing anything. He just waited patiently for his turn and occasionally spoke to some other customers about his movies, being surprisingly polite when one of them mentioned not having seen them. 

Which was very out of character according to some of your coworkers, and speaking of them-

“Hey! You got Conductor’s ticket again?” The coworker nearest to you asked, their overalls stained with oil and grime, as were their feathers. “Since he’s just gonna bug us until we ask you to…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover it!” You quickly nodded while walking over to them. “Do you know what he’s coming in about?” “I dunno, something about his train sounding weird earlier.” They shrugged. “According to the boss he didn’t sound super worried or anything, but he insisted on coming in later today.”

“CAW!” You both jumped at the sudden noise and spun around, facing the newest arrival of the slowly forming group. Towering above the both of you was yet another coworker.

Or, perhaps croworker would be a more accurate title to call her by. 

She crossed her wings and glared down at you. “Are you the reason why he’s back, again?! I thought you fixed everything the last time he was here!”

“I did!” You insisted, taking a step back and raising your hands defensively. “Everything was fine when he left, and I didn’t see any problems other than cosmetic damage in the first place!”

The occasional bump and scrap was much better than the broken up and busted train that had been brought in one day, the Conductor sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he briefly mentioned something about a filming incident. 

You had cried true, honest tears upon seeing all that damage. That poor, poor train. 

The Crow stared at you for a moment longer before leaning down and asking a rather strange question. “Did you say yes or no then?”

“... To what?” You countered, extremely confused. Your confusion grew when she threw her wings up into the air and stomped off, yelling something about dense bird brains.

“I wonder what’s up with her?” Your other coworker mused, and you offered them a weak shrug before getting back to work. 

Hours passed and eventually the train engine belonging to the Conductor appeared in the front of the shop. Already, you could hear the mumblings and grumbling of the train being immaculate, and it was fine before, followed by a why is he here?

Even your boss seemed to be a bit annoyed at the Conductor’s insistence on getting the train looked over, and probably would have scolded the bird if it were not for how much money the shop made off of him. 

It was a lot of money. 

You were snapped out of your musings when you heard that accented voice grow louder, indicating that he was getting closer. You quickly dusted off your overalls, smiled that signature, customer service smile, and made your way towards the source of the shop’s annoyance. 

And then there he was. 

The Conductor. 

There was no mistaking his short stature and the brightness of his feathers. Although, something that was quite unusual was the bag he was carrying with him, the plastic giving away nothing about what item might be contained inside. He was looking around the shop, trying to find something from the look of it, but the moment his gaze landed on you-

“There yer are!” He called out, waving eagerly as he practically ran over to see you. You instinctively smiled and waved back. 

It was good to be polite to customers, especially someone who spent as much money as the Conductor, but you also enjoyed your talks with him. Watching him ramble about his train and his experiences driving it were always fun, and you had learned that he was a magnificent storyteller. 

You missed the way one of your coworkers elbowed the other while quietly whispering something to get, getting a laugh out of the one they had spoken to. 

“Hello, Conductor!” You cheerfully greeted, smile immediately growing more genuine at the thought of being able to chat with him once again. “So, what’s going on with the train?”

“Well, erm… me train started soundin’ a bit… off.” He explained, sounding strangely nervous as he discussed what the problem was. “Can yer check the engine?”

“So you think the sounds were coming from the engine? Not the wheels?” You pressed, leaning forward as your eyes narrowed in concern. “Did you do anything to the train? Any… intense activities?”

Did you blow up your train again?

“N-Nae!” He quickly objected, quickly shaking his head. “Nothin’ like that! Just strange sounds. Can... can yer help?”

“I can take a look and tell you what I find.” You said, getting a toothy grin out of the Conductor. 

“Yer an angel.” The bird sighed, sounding quite relieved at your offer. “If yer’d like ta know more-”

“Of course I would!” You immediately replied as you made your way over to the train. “You and I need to have a long chat about what you’re worried about, and I’ll keep you updated on the status of the train. I’m assuming you’ll be waiting here?”

“Aye!” The Conductor was quick to nod, secretly happy to be able to spend more time with you.

You were definitely the best part about visiting this shop. Your personality was so bubbly and warm, but you also were not afraid to put rude customers in their place as he had seen you do on multiple occasions. You were smart and confident, yet you were also very humble and compassionate. 

Far more compassionate than he was, and he knew this. He knew how rude he could be at times, the Receptionist had scolded him on multiple occasions about his behavior, but… 

Every reason that caused him to act the way he did, his inner insecurities and worries and fears that bubbled up and filled his mind to the brim with their screaming seemed to fade whenever he was around you. 

You and your questions about his movies and his train, about the stories that he had memorized to tell his grandchildren over and over again. He knew he would get mocked if he ever voiced such feelings, so he always kept them hidden and to himself. 

Although, his feelings were not quite as hidden as he had hoped for since it seemed as though most of the workers in the repair shop had figured out why he was so insistent on you being the one to look over his train. That, and the smug looks some of them sent his way.

Especially that one Crow…

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he noticed you making your way over to the train, and he quickly rushed over to join you, the bag on his arm swaying. That’s right, he still needed to give you that, too. 

But first, train inspection. 

Together, you both climbed up the side of the train, with you taking a moment to make sure the Conductor was still following you, before making your way inside. You were unable to stop the impressed noise from escaping you as you took in the interior of the train engine, all the high tech glowing buttons and levers covering the main console. It was so easy to imagine how amazing it must feel to drive this train, the sheer amount of power and speed.

It left you breathless. 

… But, the interior was as spotless as it had been the last time you had seen it. Granted, you had not thoroughly checked anything yet, but the sheer amount of light reflecting off of the metallic surfaces, and the general lack of dirt and grime led you to believe that the problem was not here. 

And your hypothesis was proven soon enough as, after spending nearly an hour looking over all the intricate mechanisms, and chatting with the Conductor, you did not find anything that was damaged or showed signs of potentially causing problems. 

You let out a concerned hum and looked at the Conductor, not really registering how some of his feathers took on a more reddish hue, nor how he seemed to anxiously mess with his suit. Without a word, you made your way out of the train and moved to inspect the massive wheels, assuming that the problem might be there.

Nope.

Nada.

Nothing.

“There… there isn’t anything I can see wrong.” You slowly concluded as you backed away from the train. “No breaks, no other forms of damage, no malfunctioning parts, nothing.”

“Aye? Erm, well, perhaps yer should take yer time? Try not to rush and give yerself a break-” The Conductor rambled as you practically glared at the train, as if trying to force it to give up all its secrets. 

Where, where could that problem be?

You crossed your arms as you contemplated how to best solve this problem. The engine was… fine. Nothing seemed to be out of place or broken, nor were there any leaks or other signs of potential sources of problems. It was downright immaculate, what you had come to expect from the Conductor, but you knew you would not rest until you figured out what the problem was. 

It was a source of pride for you, how thorough your work was, and it helped that your boss rewarded you for your efforts. Not knowing whether the train was actually fine or not would… nag at you. 

Immensely. 

Although, given the fact that the train was stationary and the Conductor claimed to have heard those strange noises when he had been driving it, it was possible that the problem would not show itself unless the train was moving. Something that might be caused by stress, or even a poorly connected section of the tracks. 

You clapped your hands together as you came up with an idea. Yes! That would work perfectly! Excitement filling you at the prospect of your plan, you turned to the Conductor and spoke. 

“Can you give me a ride?”

The reactions to your question were… varied, to say the least. 

You heard one of your coworkers break down laughing hard enough to the point where they started coughing, you heard what sounded like someone facepalming hard enough to leave a mark, and as for the Conductor-

He squawked, loudly. 

The feathers on his face took on a more reddish hue, especially around his cheeks and forehead, and his maw hung open in what you assumed to be surprise. The feathers on the side of his head also seemed to have fluffed up at some point. It made him look…

Cute. 

“I might be able to find the problem if I’m with you when the train is moving.” You explained, watching as the red flush faded from the Conductor’s feathers. “So, would it be okay if I joined you on your next train ride?”

“Erm-course!” The Conductor quickly replied, still strangely flustered. “When… when should I pick yer up, then?”

“Hmm…” 

Obviously you needed to conform to his schedule since you had a feeling his days were pretty busy between running his train and filming movies, plus you were certain you could haggle your boss into covering how many hours you were there for.

“How about I spend the day with you?” You suggested. “That way I have plenty of time to check out the train without interrupting your schedule. Does that sound good?”

“Yer… yer be wantin’ ta spend the whole day…?” The feathers around the Conductor’s face started taking on that reddish hue once again. “From sunrise ta sunset?” 

“For as long as you’ll have me!” You answered with a nod. “And you can tell me to leave if I start bothering you.”

“Nae! Nae! That won’t be a problem!” The Conductor quickly objected as he flailed his feathery hands. “Yer can spend as long as yer want on… me train-”

Wow, I wonder why his voice cracked like that…

“Alright, it’s a date, then!” Once again you were oblivious to how his face flushed as he replied with his own, eager nod. Instead all you could think of was how wonderful it would be to ride a train across the tracks, see the sights and feel that wonderful breeze. 

“Ah, and I got yer somethin’ as thanks fer keepin’ me train in top shape.” The Conductor added as he reached into the plastic bag from earlier and pulled out a small cactus. 

“I remember yer mentionin’ that yer liked deserts, so-” He started to explain before he was cut off by you quickly picking up the cactus to inspect it. 

“I love it, and that’s so sweet!” The cactus was so tiny and round and just… looked adorable! You smiled brightly at the Conductor and instinctively reached out to hug him. “Thank you!” 

His suit felt surprisingly soft and warm as you wrapped an arm around him for the hug, careful to keep the cactus away so neither of you got accidentally pricked. His feathers were pretty soft, too, and you just barely managed to restrain yourself from impulsively running a hand through them. 

“Yer… yer welcome.” He mumbled, still blushing furiously. 

“I need to find somewhere safe to put this so it doesn’t break. Oh! I also need to find a good spot to put it when I get home, or maybe I can keep it here and it can be our little mascot!” You rambled as you made your way over to the staff room, too distracted to remember to say goodbye to the flustered bird. 

The Conductor just stood there, maw open in surprise at the fact that you had hugged him.

Oh god, you hugged him. You actually hugged him. 

He was dazed, stunned, and frozen on the spot as the memory of you hugging him replayed itself over and over in his mind. How warm you were, how bright your smile was. 

It was nice to see you smile, see you so cheerful and happy. 

He wanted to see that smile again. 

As the Conductor stood in place, too surprised to move, the operations of the repair shop slowly resumed. Technicians and mechanics got back to their assigned vehicles, and even the music that had been quietly playing in the background increased in volume. Of course, this also meant that conversations resumed, including ones focused on the interaction that had just taken place. 

“So,” The Crow began, leaning down towards one of her coworkers and whispering to them. “Are we shipping them, or do we call it something else since there’s a train?”

The resulting laughter could easily be heard by you in the staff room, leaving you confused as to what they were laughing at, and somewhat concerned as to what might have happened. 

Oh well, you had to get ready for your date tomorrow with the Conductor anyways.                                     xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Maybe I'll write a follow up to this, maybe not~

I hope you all enjoyed reading!

- ImmortalCoelacanth