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weebwrites · 4 years ago

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What It Takes (Meizou x Reader) (Ximen x Reader)

Fandom: Meteor Garden / Boys Over Flowers Warnings: Unrequited love, Love Triangle, Happy Ending, Sad Ending Words: 2k217 Requested By: No One Synopsis: Meizou can’t help but wonder what it will take for his fiancé to love him instead.

Note to Self- Don’t fall In Love First

Mei Zou had been ecstatic when he first heard of the arranged business merger between his family and the Y/L/N group. Since the moment his mother brought the idea to him, he was shaking with excitement. He had always been worries of his parents plan for his future- maybe that’s why he tried to have as much fun as possible in his youth.

Mei Zou told no one about the engagement plans, but, of course, Y/n noticed. She called him out the first time she saw him since he was told the news. It never stopped shocking him; she was the most observant person Mei Zou had ever met.

The group of five were lounging in the bridge room, and the second Y/n looked up from her music composition book she asked Meizou what made him so excited. He was quick to re-gain his composure and call it a secret- saying she’ll find out soon enough.

The other three people in the club room looked over at the both of them. Ah Si rolled his eyes, making some remark of how freaky it was- that she knew them so well.

Ximen walked over to her and put his hand gingerly on Y/n’s head, “I think it’s cute how her gaming strategy bleeds into her personality.” He moved his hand to her jaw so they were looking at each other, sharing a smile.

Lei nodded, “It’s nice to have someone you can have a silent conversation with.”

Meizou kept his eyes on the pair in front of him, his hands balling at his sides, morphing into pale chords of muscles as he clenched the chair’s fabric. Y/n had looked back at her book, making progress on the song she was composing.

He watched as her hair fell from behind her ears, obscuring his view of the girl. He noticed the signs of her becoming increasing frustrated. Just as he was about to move over, Y/n had called out to Lei.

“I’m trying to convert my song from guitar to piano, but I’m not sure how to compensate for the fret change during the bridge. What chord do you think will work here?” She made eye-contact with the soft boy.

Before looking at where she was referring to, Hua Ze Lei gently brushed the hair from her face before answering her question.

If only we were together already, Mei Zou thought, then I could stop them from looking at her like that. It was hard on the boy to see Y/n interact with other guys on a daily basis. He’s loved her since they were children, but he had no clue what the future held. So, for now, he bit his tongue. It would be so much easier if she loved me already.

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Note To Self- Don’t wait too long

He was many things- an artist, a bridge player, a loyal friend, a play boy, a hopeless romantic, the list goes on- but Mei Zou is not an idiot.

He recognized the signs- falling in love was most visible from the outside. It started small, he would walk beside her in the halls. Then he would be the first to her classes, then he started to drive her home, until he’d take her out before reaching her house. It had started small, the love between an angel and a broken man.

Meizou wasn’t an idiot. He knew Ximen was cautious with love, to the point of thinking he might never get married. It was a shock when he realized his friend was actually in love.

When Meizou first noticed his friend’s lingering glances and moment longer hands on her waist, he cornered him in the hallway. He had pushed Ximen against the lockers, grabbing his collar. Meizou scolded him, warned him that Y/n wasn’t like the girls he toys with, she’s more than them. He warned him about messing with their Y/n, the only female member of F5; Meizou gently reminded him that it wasn’t just himself Ximen would have to worry about, Ah Si and Lei cherished their princess, and they’d do anything to protect her.

Ximen shoved his friend off of him, aggressively declaring his love for her. “I love her, Meizou,” he whispered after. “I can’t stop- it’s like she’s the only thing in my life- every girl I see is just a person who isn’t her, every breath I take is one I wish was with her; she’s in every thought I have and my hand feels empty without hers’ in it. I don’t know how but I love her. I love her.”

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Meizou guided Ximen back to their club room to keep away from peering eyes. They sat and drank the scotch the room was stocked with. Even as Ah Si came and went, Ximen hadn’t said a word since the hallway. Nothing fell from his lips since he whispered his love for their bestfriend. Meizou had never seen Ximen so vulnerable before, so delicate; if he told his friend about the engagement plans Meizou feared he would shatter like a porcelain heart, so he waited.

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Note To Self- Decide Your Priorities Early On

Having the plans be a secret wasn’t difficult. Meizou wasn’t told anything since the reveal, so it’s not like he was keeping anything other than that from hs friends. No, having it be a secret wasn’t what was difficult- but keeping it a secret was the most painful experience ever.

Meizou watched their love story from the side lines- seeing the stages of their relationship was like watching acts of a play in a theater he couldn’t leave. He was the understudy of a lead who never got sick. Still, Meizou waited. He waited for Ximen to mess up, to freak out. It was messed up- something he never thought he would stoop low enough to do- yet every time Y/n gushed about her plans Meizou silently prayed his friend wouldn’t show up.

He prayed Ximen would forget, he prayed Ximen would make a mistake- just once. He wished he would say the wrong thing- offend her by accident; he prayed on every lucky star that Ximen would hurt her- just once.

Yet with every ill-intended wish it was like their love grew stronger. Ximen had given up his go-to dating plans the moment Y/n agreed to go out with him. Long gone were the roses and strawberry scented cards, no more was the heart on the side of the building. Y/n wasn’t like that.

Instead they would go to a second hand book store and find a book that had been lived in- one with dog-eared pages and cracked spines. With their books in hand they would to go a cafe, they’d order two drinks (A hot tea of differing flavors and a Spiced Chai Latte) and a piece of cake. Occasionally looking up to smile at their partners, they lived through the books. Smudged highlights of their favorite quotes, smushed rants in the margins when the plot got heated, tears softening the pages which hurt their hearts; the two poured their souls into the pages, and then they gave part of themselves to the other.

They’d go their separate ways and read the books their partners had chosen for them, laughing when they read a funny note the other had left, calling in tears when everything goes wrong, they annotated the novels. The books would be swapped back and forth, each time read from a new perspective until each page was filled with reminders of love, silly rants, or just mementos of their time together. The book became more ink and highlighter than paper, and it’s meaning had transformed. This was what they were as a couple, something that never seemed to be breakable. Something endless.

Ah Si was spectacle at first, hesitant to expose Y/n to his playboy turned romantic friend. He had always thought Y/n would end up with Lei- but he gave Ximen a chance, and he waited. He waited for Y/n to show up at his door step in tears, he waited to kill Ximen for making her cry. He waited and he waited and the day never came.

Instead, Y/n cried over how sweet he was. Instead she told him how well he treated her, how Ximen made her feel so special. She called Ah Si late at night not heartbroken, but reduced to giggles and squeals after a perfect date. Never came the day Ah Si would comfort a heartbroken Y/n, and he had never been happier for her.

Lei was the first to know of Y/n’s long-lasting crush on his friend. He was surprised- back when she told him at the age of twelve. But since then he expected the calls of how he was perfect, how he’d never see her as a girl. He knew Y/n’s feelings inside out, and he was worried when she told him that Ximen had taken her out on a date. He waited for Ximen to get bored, for Y/n’s perfection to not be enough for him. Lei watched silently as the pair spent every second together, watched with careful eyes as they fell hard.

After his worries for her well being subsided, Lei waited for Y/n to fade from his life. As it was, Y/n called him every day and texted him throughout it. He waited for the calls to stop, for her texts to become once a day with simple meanings. He waited patiently to be along on the rooftop with only the memories of his bestfriend to keep him company. He waited and waited and waited, staring at the phone or the rooftop entrance. Days, weeks, a month, two, yet the phone always rang, and the door always opened. Lei realized Y/n wouldn’t be abandoning his relationship with her for someone else. Maybe it was because he chose love and abandoned his friends when he did- maybe that's why he tried to prepare himself for Y/n’s departure from his life- waiting for her to disappear. But the day never came, and Lei stopped waiting.

Ximen was terrified every day. He was anxious as he drove to her house, wondering when he would freak out. He was scared when he looked down and saw Y/n holding onto his arm, wondering when he would push her off. He clenched his hand tight as he watched her dance through the streets of Shanghi, wondering when he would ruin his one shot at happiness.

Every date his heart was beating out of his chest, every stolen glance felt like the last. Every smile thrown his way was a wakeup call- every time her voice reached his ears it cut through the fog of self doubt and misery which swallowed him whole- she was his savior. His angel that managed to save him every time, the only life raft on the sinking boat; she was the only good thing left in the world that fought to bruise his ego and tie him to a hundred pound weight of misery. She was the softest blanket, she was the best alarm. She was everything. His hand unclenched. He calmed down.

Meizou should have known this would happen. He decided then, seeing her beautiful smile, that her happiness is all that mattered.

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Note To Self- Sometimes Things Don’t Work Out, Sometimes That’s Okay

When Meizhou told his parents he wouldn’t go through with the wedding they were furious. When he broke down in tears they had no clue what to do with themselves.

“She’s in love with someone else,”

They comforted him as best as absentee parents could, patting his head awkwardly with empty words. They offered to go through with it anyway, have her fall in love with him after they’re married.

Meizhou refused- he didn’t want to.

Instead, Meizhou stood at the altar, watching as Y/n approached. She was beautiful. Her dress dragged behind her and her eyes watered with tears- she was gorgeous.

Lei and Daoming Si stood across the isle, beside Y/n as she took her rightful spot. She stared into the eyes of her beloved and, for once, it wasn’t jealousy that prickled under his skin. It was sorrow- deep and painful morning for the death of his future. His beloved would never be his, his beloved was someone else. He cried.

Y/n had never felt better. Her mother had been apprehensive about giving her consent, saying she hadn’t expected Ximen to be the one she fell in love with. Y/n wasn’t sure what she meant, but her mom dressed her to the nines and did her makeup personally.

And now here she was, standing in front of the man she’d gladly spend every moment of her life with.

“How did I get so lucky,” she whispered, as Lei handed her Ximens ring and Meizhou handed him the other.

“No love-” Ximens eyes swirled with love and adoration, “how did I get so lucky?”

The room erupted into cheers, applause, the occasional scream or encouragement as they kissed. The world faded around them and the only thing that mattered was each other.

Meizhou waved them off as they climbed into the limo towards their honeymoon.

#meteor garden #f4 #feng meizuo #ximen #daoming si #hua ze lei #chinese drama #ximen x reader #meteor garden x reader #meizhou x reader #ximen x reader x meizhou #meteor garden angst #meteor garden fluff #kdrama #kdrama fanfic #kdrama x reader #boys over flowers #boys over flowers x reader

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suckerforsmylex · 3 years ago

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Beautiful Havoc

This one is for @eternalant who requested a joker x sassy!reader, however, this will have a part two which will also be for @joker1688, who wanted to see what happens when we turn the tables on J. Buen provecho, bitches. 💋

She was pushing her luck and she knew it. Raising a hairless eyebrow, he regarded her for a moment and then turned away, not wanting her to see his annoyance building. She was always worse when she noticed that she’d gotten under his skin, his sneer making her react the way a cat does when it bats at an insect. Only this was no insect. This was the Jester of Genocide, and she owed him her very existence.

He could break her with a word or destroy her with a single decision, and yet, she still insisted on yammering on about her own opinions on his strategy. She still had to have the last word. She still had to question him. She was selectively forgetful, having charmed her way to the Joker’s side by using the very mouth he wanted to smack at this very moment.

Her mouth turned up into a smug smirk, arms crossing over her chest. “You said you were going to show me anyway, J. You never did, so I took the liberty.” He stood there motionless for a moment and then pulled out his phone and started scrolling through it. There wasn’t a particular thing he was looking at, but he focused all of his attention on the device anyway. She was so frustrated that she walked towards him aggressively. “I was ready. We reviewed the lab protocol about a million times.” Still, no response from him, except to make a phone call and walk into his office.

Like clockwork, she stormed after him, taking his bait and becoming irritated at his complete disregard for her. Still, he ignored her, his next words directed into the phone which he held sideways and carelessly, the audio coming in on speaker just loud enough for her to hear. “Frost, I want all the equipment in the lab cleaned and disinfected immediately. I want all the high touch surfaces wiped down. I want the equipment corridors and spaces wiped down from top to bottom. I want the walls scrubbed. I want the packing materials from that box she brought in destroyed. In fact, go into the lab refrigerator and destroy the entire package. Toss the fridge too.”

With a flick of his thumb, he hung up and shoved his phone in a drawer, sitting back to focus on one of his many computer monitors. She stood there in the doorway with her arms still crossed and pouting and eventually making huffing sounds until he addressed her. His words rolled lazily off his tongue as he continued to look back and forth between monitors, jotting down his observations in manic scribbles on a pad before him.

“If you’re just going to stand there, make yourself useful and make Daddy a drink," he muttered without lifting his eyes to meet hers. She was furious, having stuck her neck out to get her hands on the bootleg Smylex that had suddenly started showing up on the street and getting into the hands of The Joker's rivals. Her lips formed a pout that stuck out further when she put her manicured hands on her hips.

“I went through hell to get that. Whoever is running your operations on the ground level is...” He was on his feet quickly, startling her and making her swallow the rest of her words. He had enough time, in the midst of her confusion, to push himself away from the desk, and lunge towards her, shoving her into the nearest wall and pinning her there with his left hand. His right hand came up to caress her face before jerking away, his pointer finger and thumb coming up to pinch her mouth closed with an annoyed snarl he could no longer contain.

He regarded her frustrated face, a wide grin on his own as he leaned into the chokehold. "A wise girl knows her limits, doesn't she?" She gurgled out an answer, but he was content to let her struggle until her face turned a lovely shade of red. Her own fingers came up, flailing around the already bruising flesh at her tender neck, and still she retorted, her eyes squinting at him like daggers.

He had to admit to himself that her overt disrespect intrigued him, his fingers maintaining pressure until the tears spilled from her eyes. He loosened his grip, just enough to allow a respite from the lack of oxygen before delivering her a smack that made her face sting instantly upon impact. That look of defiance was still there, her legs kicking against his shins, causing him to almost double over in pain. With a deep chuckle, he locked the space between his forefinger and thumb and pressed against her throat until she was struggling again.

Bright-red fingernails clawed at the expensive cotton of his dress shirt until he let up, her body convulsing into a cough she couldn’t suppress. He pushed his knee between her legs effortlessly, her legs trying to shut but too late to do anything but clamp him in place. His hand cupped her jaw, shifting her face from side to side, examining her before placing a kiss over the place where he’d smacked her.

“I didn’t pluck you from obscurity to hear your mouth.”

His hands moved over her body, making her gasp, her mouth opening wide enough to immediately push his fingers inside of it. It had been a while since he touched her and she acted accordingly, her heart racing instantaneously. Her body jumped to attention, nerves on fire with sweet desperation.

Still, he waited to see her eyes change, the hostility there melting away into craving. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to give her any relief. What made his cock twitch was getting her nice and docile and eager. He peered down at her, fingers still pressing against the flat of her tongue, slick with her saliva. Removing them, he examined them and then forced them into her mouth deeper.

A flit of rage bubbled up within her, converting itself into tears and her eyes stayed that way until his hand was at his zipper. She didn’t see his cock, but she could hear the slow sound the zipper made. She could feel the way he pulled it out, straining against his fly and then suddenly thick and pulsing against her stomach.

A series of high-pitched sounds came from her and then, there they were, those pleading eyes, asking to be fucked. He continued to plunge his lithe fingers into her mouth, palming himself throughout it until she was shaking and gagging and grabbing at his arm. That made him shove the fingers all the way down, the corners of her mouth frothy with spit until her mouth and jaw and J’s hand were covered in it.

She was delirious with need and seeing her this way made him lose it, his hands coming out of her mouth to smack her before his fingers laced into her hair and pushed her to her knees. Her mouth opened, head lunging for his pretty dick, which he kept away from her. He made a show of pulling his pelvis back just enough to keep the ruddy head away from her greedy mouth until her eyes turned up to his. He didn’t have to say anything. She knew what he expected.

“Please, Daddy…”

He laughed down into her eyes, tears spilling from them and making the tip of her nose red. He smacked his cock there first before filling her mouth with a relieved grunt. Gagging sounds filled the room, obscuring the sound of The Joker’s cell phone, buzzing with text messages and voicemails from Frost. All went unanswered while he continued to fuck her mouth, the nasty, wet sounds bringing him closer to climaxing down her throat.

Her hands came up to run along his thighs, eventually grabbing tightly as he ruthlessly fucked her mouth, rutting into her until he lost himself completely, drunk with his own power. The Joker was so lost in her soft submission that he didn’t hear the buzz of the walkie and his men screaming for him to arm himself until she had her fingers wrapped around his gun, a big grin on her face as she let his cock fall from her mouth, bobbing lewdly as it did. Her hands didn’t tremble as she steadily rose to her feet, smiling with a wicked glint in her eye.

“Don’t fucking move or you’ll have more than this mouth to worry about, J.”

#the joker #joker #leto joker #joker x sassy!reader #brat #sassy girl #clever girl #joker x bratty!reader #sassy #fingers in mouth #sloppy toppy #guns #beautiful #havoc #suckerforsmylex

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justmypartner · 3 years ago

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Still Breathing: Chapter 4

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hello all! I hope you are enjoying this story so far! I don't have much to say other than I so appreciate the kind comments I've gotten thus far! I really enjoy the feedback and discord after posting a chapter, so keep it coming - I love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!!

Read on AO3 or below

A glow of sunlight filtering in through her curtains pulled Hailey out of a deep sleep the next morning. As her eyes fluttered open, part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For it to be just another dream that would morph into a nightmare and leave her waking with tacky, sweat-covered skin and an irregular pulse. It took her a moment, but she eventually realized it wasn’t another dream. She was awake, and she had just slept fully through the night, unobstructed by her haunting memories. A naive thought credited it to Jay’s text from the night before, but the cynic in her figured it was just her many nights of restlessness finally catching up with her. Whatever it was, she was glad for that one night of freedom. It wasn’t enough to convince her the nightmares were gone completely, but she was willing to take what she could get.

When she checked the clock on her bedside table, it read 15 minutes before her alarm was due to go off. She climbed out of bed then, figuring she could use the extra time with how much longer getting ready took with one arm still out of commission. Showering was a hassle, doing her hair was nearly impossible, and getting dressed required a specific strategy she hadn’t quite perfected yet. By the time she had gathered the last of her things to stuff into her duffle, it was time to go.

The final thing she did was pull her sidearm from the safe in her bedroom and secure it in the side of the bag. She found it strange to wear her star without her weapon. It left a misplaced feeling in the back of her mind like she was forgetting something, but it was a feeling she knew she’d have to get used to over the next few weeks.

As unexciting as desk duty sounded, she was glad in a way that she’d be able to ease back into things. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but after everything that happened, the thought of going into the field was unsettling. Physically she was feeling 100%, with exception of her arm still being in a sling, but mentally she wasn’t prepared for the field again. She was more than ready to be back at work. She hated being out, leaving the team short-handed after only two weeks of joining them to solve just that, so she was eager to get back to them. She was just glad that the shooting’s effects on her body provided a reason to disguise the mental ones that left her hesitant to get back on the streets.

When she finally made it to work, she took a deep breath before climbing the steps into the district. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She warned the team against any sort of welcome back. At her old district, it was a tradition to greet cops who were injured on the job with a grand welcoming, but she always hated the idea of it. The attention was bad enough, but she always thought it was strange to celebrate someone almost dying for simply doing their job. Immediately as she reached the top of the steps, her shoulders relaxed to see the lobby empty. Not even the ever so illustrious desk sergeant was at her post, so she took the opportunity to sneak upstairs.

She was surprised to be greeted with a vacant bullpen. She wasn’t sure who she was expecting, but she imagined at least someone would have beaten her there. As she moved through the space towards the locker room, a low wince behind the desks stopped her in her tracks. She then heard what sounded like someone falling over, followed by a murmur of suppressed laughter.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” she finally questioned, both amused and muddled by the unsourced noises.

“This is officially the last time I include Ruz in a surprise,” Kim said, shaking her head with an enlivened grin as she and the other two Intelligence members climbed out from behind the desks.

“You stepped on my foot, what’d you expect me to do?” Adam bridled, causing Hailey and the others to let out stifled snickers.

God, did she miss those idiots.

“Sorry, Upton. This was supposed to be a fun little welcome back, but I guess it’s a bit anticlimactic now so uh, here,” Kevin said, extending the cup of coffee in his hand out to her. “Welcome back,” he smiled, his contagious smile enough to get her grinning from ear to ear.

“Thanks, guys,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to do anything, but I appreciate it, and I’m just glad to be back.”

“We’re glad you’re back,” Kim said, the two guys nodding in agreement. Hailey smiled, dipping her head sheepishly before cutting the sudden silence with a sigh.

“Well, I still need to hit the locker room, but I fully expect a rundown of what I’ve missed while I was gone when I come back,” she told them before turning on her heels and heading down the hall.

As she was putting the last of her things into her locker, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She sat on the bench behind her as she retrieved the phone, tapping the screen to read the message that had just come in. Her face instantly lit up when she saw who it was from.

Happy first day back! Kick ass!

Her fingers tapped out a response quickly.

Kinda hard to do that from a desk, but I’m sure I’ll find a way lol

She settled on it before pocketing the phone and making her way back into the bullpen. The team caught her up on what she’d missed, and she told them about how uneventful her recovery was, leaving out the part where she met a new friend. They dished out all of their details, work-related and non-work-related until Voight eventually showed. He took only a brief moment to check up on Hailey and welcome her back before they dove into the day’s case.

Hailey spent the rest of the day combing through pod footage, making phone calls, and digging up any other information she could to relay back to the team. It wasn’t the most glamorous part of the job, but it kept her busy and it helped her to find her groove again.

By the end of the day, they were unofficially able to close up the case. They still had batches of paperwork to fill out, but other than that it was pretty cut and dry, so Voight sent them home.

As they exited the district, her three fellow officers expressed how happy they were to have her back for the last time that day. It gave her the warmest feeling as she realized she got to work with some of the best people she’d ever met, but it also made her happy to have been so clearly missed by them. Walking out with them she took in every smile and every laugh. It was such a trivial moment, but it was the kind of memory her new outlook on life made her want to cherish.

When she pulled up outside of her place, a car she’d never seen along her street before caught her eye. It was a baby blue, vintage, convertible of some sort. She wasn’t much of a car person, but it was just one of those cars no person could refuse to appreciate. After one last glance at it, she hopped out of her own car and made her way up to her front door. She froze when she saw a friendly figure perched on her small stoop. A confused smile crept across her face as Jay stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sauntered towards her.

“Hi?” She greeted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hey, how was your day? Did you kick ass?” he asked casually, now standing only but a few feet in front of her.

“Good, and I guess as best as I could behind a desk… what are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes darting around in confusion.

“In honor of your first day back, we are going to cross something off my list,” he told her. His words coming out slowly, and she noted the way they came out as a statement rather than a question.

“It better not be the one where you jump in the Chicago River,” she challenged, pointing a finger out with her words. He let out a chuckle, his mouth twisting into a sinister smile.

“No…” she muttered, a sudden bout of fear rising in her.

“I’m kidding, come on,” he instructed, brushing past her as he nonchalantly headed out toward the street.

It was only when he stopped at the driver’s side of the car that she realized the connection.

“Wait, that’s yours?” she questioned, a look of disbelief on her face.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he replied, the rise in his voice’s pitch revealing to her that he was bluffing. All it took was one raised brow, and he immediately caved.

“Okay fine, it’s a loaner. I’ve got a lot of friends in high places,” he shrugged, steadying a hand against the top of the door as he jumped over it and into the driver’s seat.

Since they’d met, she’d tried to keep her thoughts about him purely platonic. For the most part, she’d been fairly successful, but there was something about the way he jumped into that seat so smoothly that was so damn hot. That, the green beanie he wore that brought out the forest color of his eyes, and the way he looked so confident in that car had her questioning her feelings for a moment. She stood on the sidewalk looking over at him, slightly lost in a lingering gaze as butterflies danced about in her stomach. It was only when he cleared his throat that she was snapped out of it.

“So, you coming or what?”

“Coming where?”

“It’s item number seven on my list, rent a convertible and drive down Lake Shore late at night,” he smirked, one arm propped against the headrest of the passenger seat and the other draped over the steering wheel.

“Okay, that actually does sound pretty fun. Let me put my bag up,” she told him, lightly jogging to her front door before haphazardly tossing the bag into the dark space and locking up again. As she approached the car, he leaned over and pushed the door open for her, and she slipped into the passenger seat.

“Ready?” he asked, and she confirmed the question with a nod.

When he started the car, the roar of the engine was loud enough to send a judder through her bones. When he sped off down the street, she found herself instinctively clutching at the sides of the car for stability. She was filled with equal parts fear and exhilaration as they raced up and down half-empty streets.

By the time they reached Lake Shore, the sun had already set, but twilight brought out a deep blue tinge that stood out against the city lights. It was like she was seeing the city for the first time. Like she was falling in love with it all over again. That view, with the roar of the engine, wind blowing through her hair, and the 70s roadtrip music he’d put on playing through the old stereo made her feel like she was in a movie. He drove the road until they reached just about the outskirts of the city. He pulled the car off somewhere near Montrose beach and got out, quickly running over to her side to open her door.

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” she teased, masking the way the simple act had her stomach doing flips. He rolled his eyes at her, a slightly embarrassed smile on his face as she stepped out and he pushed the door shut behind her.

“So what are we doing here?” she questioned as he led them closer to the shore of the lake.

“I don’t know. We ran out of road, the lake’s pretty in the moonlight, and after a boring day of desk duty, I feel like it’s not a half-bad way to end the night,” he said simply, sitting down on the ledge by the lake.

As she sat down with him, she quickly realized how much colder it was by the water. The brisk wind brushing against her skin through the open top of the car was one thing, but the coolness of the lakefront breeze was almost intolerable. She suddenly wished she’d thought to grab her jacket from her duffle before they left. As she settled down beside him, she clutched her arms tightly against her chest as shivers jumped through her body. Before she knew it, as if he had read her mind, he shimmied off his jacket and held it out to her. She thanked him, a tone of gratitude and hesitation in her voice as she pulled it on over her shoulders. When she did, she noticed him glancing over at her badge still displayed on her hip. His eyes lingered there before he realized she’d caught him looking and he quickly diverted his eyes, holding back whatever question the object had generated.

“What?” she asked in an attempt to pull it out of him.

“Hm? Nothing,” he shrugged off. She knew it wasn’t nothing, but she decided against pressing him for whatever it was. She knew the job was a touchy subject, and she figured it was best to leave it alone.

“So I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I may sound crazy for this, but part of me feels like your text last night actually worked,” she informed him, fidgeting with a loose pebble she found on the ground beside her.

“What text?” his face contorted as he seemed to comb through his memory from the night before. “Oh wait… no nightmares?”

She shook her head.

“First night without them after more than three straight. Maybe you’ve got some sort of magic touch,” she half-joked, her tight-lipped grin growing across her face.

“I don’t know if I can take credit for that, but that’s good. You deserve that peace,” his voice was soft and low, and she didn’t miss the way his cheek dimpled slightly when he flashed her a small smile.

“So what’d you get into today?” she asked him, tucking one of her legs in and twisting so that she could face him.

“Um let’s see, I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, went to the grocery store, had a therapy session this afternoon, you know, all very exciting things,” he said, counting out each activity on his fingers.

“You go to therapy?” she asked, instantly regretful of the almost judgmental tone she carried as the words left her mouth. She just couldn’t help but be surprised that someone like him, a cop, a veteran, a man would be so open about it. She realized the thought only played into the toxic mentalities surrounding mental health and masculinity that she despised so much, but part of her also wondered if it was her own reluctance to start therapy that made her so staggered by the idea.

“Yeah, for a few years now. Based on your reaction, I’m going to assume you don’t?”

“I’ve done the mandatory sessions with the department shrink after shootings before, but never anything consistent. How’d you get started?” she wasn’t even sure if it was an appropriate question to ask, but she was so intent on knowing more that she didn’t take time to second guess it. Though, she was relieved when his face read an expression of musing rather than one of annoyance.

“There’s a bad take we often absorb as cops — as people really, but even more so as cops. We get injured on the job, we do whatever we need to do to heal, and we jump through whatever hoops we gotta jump through just to get back out there. The problem is there’s such a focus on our physical healing that we neglect what needs to be addressed mentally. I went through my whole life doing that. You get to a point where after so many times of telling people you’re fine, you start to convince yourself that you are,” he inhaled deeply, staring out at the lake briefly before he brought his eyes back to her and continued.

“Thing is, you do that for too long and you start to lose sight of what’s real. I was so against getting help, so against the idea that there was anything wrong with me that I began to just accept the fact that I was suffering. Then one day, that sense of reality I’d lost came back and bit me… hard. After that, I started going to therapy, very reluctantly at first, but eventually, I realized it was saving me. Helping me get to a place where I was healing instead of dealing, and I haven’t turned back from it since,” he finished, tightening his lips together as he peered into her eyes with a look of confidence. Like he knew everything he’d said was exactly what she needed to hear.

“Damn,” she whispered, blankly staring out at the lake as she processed his words. She blinked rapidly to recede the tears that had emerged. She’d spent her entire life, best put in his words, dealing rather than healing. She was no stranger to trauma, in fact, she was far from it, but she was a stranger to properly addressing it. She wasn’t against therapy, she just figured she didn’t need it. That she was doing fine on her own, but that one conversation with him was making her think otherwise.

“Well, maybe I should add therapy to my still breathing list,” she quipped, her best attempt at lightening the mood.

“Not a bad thing to add,” he smirked, his face softening as he propped an arm behind him to lean back against.

“Well, my first thing was kinda lame, so I figure it can only go up from here,” she joked, a mischievous grin spouting across her face. He scoffed, clutching at his chest as he feigned hurt by her words.

They talked for maybe longer than they should’ve, falling into an easy rhythm back and forth as they talked about anything and everything that came to mind. Hailey was the type of person who could talk to any and everyone if she had to, but there was something about talking to him that felt like a routine. Like one that she’d memorized by heart and never wanted to go without. After a while, she realized the time, realized she still hadn’t eaten, and that she had work early the next morning.

“God I didn’t realize how late it was, we should probably head back,” she told him, pushing herself up to stand. He nodded, standing with her as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys.

“Now… I know this was for my list but do you wanna drive back?” he asked, rising to stand with her. He dangled the keys in front of her. Her face brightened immediately, and he couldn’t hold in the puff of laughter that came with it.

“I thought you were never going to ask,” she joked, pulling his jacket tight across her body with her free hand before snatching the keys and making her way over to the driver’s side. As he climbed into the passenger seat, she crossed her good arm around the steering wheel to turn the key, and the engine started with a roar. She revved it a few times, looking over at Jay whose fearful expression had laughter escaping her lips.

“Am I going to regret this?” he asked, but instead of answering she just swiveled the steering wheel to pull off the shoulder, gunning the engine down the presently empty street.

Before long they were back at her place, and she shifted the gear into park before turning off the engine. Driving with one arm was harder than she thought it would be, mainly for the fact that the ignition and gear shift were on the right side and her right arm was still in a sling. Yet, it didn’t stop her from having the time of her life driving such a car. She climbed out after she handed him back the keys, making her way around to lean against the back bumper.

“That was incredible,” she told him, digging in her pocket for her own keys.

“Anyone ever tell you that you drive like a maniac?” he jabbed, causing her to lightly kick at his leg.

“So what else is on that list of yours?” she inquired, noting the way he shadowed over her.

“Hm, I don’t know. I kind of liked surprising you tonight. If I tell you, it may take the fun away when we get around to the next one,” he admitted, a childlike softness in his voice that made it hard for her to be mad at his obscurity. She cut her eyes at him, and she noticed the way his brow furrowed back innocently.

“Are you always this aloof?”

“Only with you.”

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically, shaking her head at his goading.

“Well, thanks for tonight,” she said, pulling the jacket from her shoulders and offering it back to him.

“Next time we’ll do something from your list,” he told her as she pushed herself from the car and made her way up to her front door.

“Sounds like a plan,” she twirled around to tell him, her lips curling up at the thought of another night like that one.

“And Hailey,” he called out, just as she reached the top of the steps.

“Sleep well. No bad dreams,” he uttered, a small smile creeping across his face as his hands found way to his pockets.

It was the last time that night an action of his had caused an unexpected flutter in her stomach. She was embarrassed and somewhat fearful of the way those simple words had her feeling so dippy. Maybe it was the sentiment behind them, the way he’d said it, or the stupid smile on his face when he said it, but she wondered if the feeling that he’d erupted was more than just a fleeting one. She quickly pushed that thought down, dipping her head before hesitantly meeting his eyes once more.

“Goodnight, Jay,” she told him before making her way inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her as if it would somehow protect her from what had just happened.

She had to blame it on her exhaustion and the slight adrenaline rush she got from the night’s events. She’d also never had a friend like him. Someone who always had the perfect thing to say, whose company felt so natural and necessary, who seemed to relate so much to everything she was feeling. It was admiration more than anything, she told herself. He was just her friend, and he’d stay that way. Yet, as much as she tried to convince herself that all of those times that night that suggested differently were just flukes, she ended the night with a looming thought that wondered otherwise.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

hello! if you are taking requests, can you please do the oxygen loss prompt with megatron and whirl?

I did Whirl in part two, so I have Megatron here with a ridiculously long one and I hope that's okay! I added Thunderclash as well so I can keep my pattern of two because... I like patterns. I might be getting super into this prompt...

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: You're Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Megatron

·You're in the ship's recently finished classroom organizing lesson plans on your own, having been working with Megatron to try and set up more structured class schedules on the growing list of topics he's begun to cover. You're thrilled he's found a kind of calling on the ship, especially one that seems to be allowing bots to see the side of him you know best. He's made it quite clear in his own way that your assistance in this endeavor means the world to him.

·He's on the bridge, scouting out potential locations for refueling on the next leg of the journey with the rest of the commanding officers. For once there's mostly cohesion in their efforts, and his insistence on choosing planets hospitable to humans is met with agreement, if not surprise. They're on schedule to finish early for a quiet afternoon off when everything turns to a level of chaos even the experienced crewmembers have to call extreme. The rumble that shakes the entire ship is one Megatron and experienced space travelers know well; they've been ambushed.

·You're nearly knocked off the desk you're standing on by the unexpected tremors. While you're trying to figure out what could possibly have caused the disturbance, a message is appearing up on the bridge, where alerts of failing systems and corrupted codes almost make it impossible to hear an alien captain decree an intent to storm the ship. Megatron attempts diplomacy before lives are lost, but the enemy makes it clear; this ship and its contents are more valuable than anything they could offer. While the captain notes their species has heard of the famed Lost Light and its crew, their hack of the security systems proved embarrassingly simple, and they look forward to the easy payoff from selling the scraps of the Cybertronians onboard!

·With communications down and systems struggling through an ongoing sabotage, Megatron still prepares to coordinate a defense, but is stopped before he can begin by a final taunt from their enemy. Their hack of the security cameras showed his fondness for his new pet, a homo sapien of all things, and thus his current concern should be for the atmospheric regulation instead of battle plans. But considering how many dead organics he's left in his wake, surely one more shouldn't perturb him too deeply, yes?

·The line goes dead just as the ship's alarm attempts to sound, signaling an impending attack before it too crashes with everything else. His fellow officers are moving to get defenses up however they can, preparing to get the resident tech experts on the job of restoring key systems while trying to plan a counterattack with no way to reach anyone. He's near to frozen as he tries to message you to no avail, the cruel mockery of the enemy cutting deep in ways words rarely do for him, if only because the implication terrifies him like nothing ever has; he's all but helpless to save you.

·Only experience and an undying determination allow him to break through the fog. Without asking for guidance or permission, he states his one intent; to rescue you however he can. If there are any objections, he does not hear them, and soon his pedes are tearing down the hallway to where he last saw you and prays he'll find you; the classroom. Oblivious to his rush, the only thing you're aware of is the fact that something is amiss, but you don't have a clue as to what. Between the tremor, the brief blare of the alarm and your inability to get your communicator running, you only know there's danger inbound.

·Not having much information to work with, you surmise that the classroom is probably not the safest place to hunker down, and recall that the medical and scientific wings aren't far. As the doctors on the ship have added human medicine to their repertoire, and are hardly defenseless, trying to get to them seems your greatest hope for securing yourself. Not wanting to panic, you push your supplies into a somewhat neat pile and climb down the small ladder that's been added to the desk for your sake. Somehow you don't find yourself at the top of your worries at all. Your thoughts center almost entirely on Megatron, who will undoubtedly be forced into whatever conflict might erupt, and even an unexpected staleness in the air around you hardly registers amidst your anxiety.

·Megatron is still too logical of a bot not to stop every crewmember he sees to give them a brief list of orders. He knows that, without a united defense and victory, there won't be any way you can be saved at all. So he takes the hindrance, though bots hardly take long to move when he issues a command. But his growing fear gnaws at him with a simple truth; without communication, he can't even be sure of your location, let alone your condition. Perhaps he's going the wrong way. Perhaps you're already beyond help. Perhaps you've already been discovered by the enemy. All he can do in the face of blinding terror is keep moving, keep coordinating, and keep hoping beyond reason that he'll be fortunate for once.

·You can't remember the classroom ever taking so long to cross, but that's hardly important, especially with your communicator still failing to function. Reaching Megatron would give you incredible comfort right now, if only to hear he's alright, yet that's obviously not going to happen. Honestly, it sounds silly to really think about it, the human worrying for the Cybertronian... But your anxiety isn't comforted merely to remember he's a gigantic combat veteran, not knowing anything about his current status is all it needs to wander to scary places...

·Closing in on your position, the mech in question echoes your worry, but his knowledge of the current danger puts his feelings closer to panic. All he knows is that he's coordinated a not insignificant number of bots for a better defense on his way through the ship. With better resistance on their side, he knows they can win, because they must. The alternative won't come to pass while his spark still flickers within him. That promise comes to an early test when he overhears enemies moving on the path ahead, and he takes the charge without hesitation, his terror converting quite easily to rage for extra assistance.

·By the time you're at the door you know something is wrong with you. Each step comes with a wobble you can't explain, and soon the dizziness you thought was worry has grown to almost debilitating levels. Why is the room spinning? Why does your body feel so heavy? It doesn't worry you as much as it probably should, but you know it needs to be fixed, especially with the ship potentially in jeopardy. Faint activity from the hallway outside spurs you to finally trigger the door to open, which thankfully appears to be one of the few systems still working. Heavy footsteps not too far away register in your ears just as you're forced to lean against a wall for support.

·The aliens that come into view before you quite unexpectedly are large, tough, and well armed. Most races would have found them an insurmountable challenge, and even an experienced Cybertronian combatant couldn't expect an easy victory against a single fighter, leaving you quite hopeless as you stare upwards in confusion. Megatron is not the norm, and his drive to win is fuelled by far more than just survival, so he feels little more than irritation when he finally arrives to the hallway you're pinned within. More than a dozen mark his path to you, their forms clustered around the helpless human in sick curiosity, and as a result they're heedless to his appearance.

·Hulking forms most definitely not of Cybertronian make tower over your body as it struggles to keep upright, the ceiling spinning overhead as you try to connect thoughts and move your legs to flee. A language you don't understand precedes a slow swipe in your direction, one that you stumble away from more than dodge, resulting in you roughly collapsing to the floor. Something like cruel laughter greets your painful tumble. You should be angry, being mocked like a bug skittering from its inevitable squishing, but God you're so exhausted. It's not even in you to be afraid when the barrel of an alien gun is pointed at your head and the scent of ozone fills your nose while the barrel fills with light.

·A second tremor shakes the ship, but this one proves to be far more deadly than the last. Your would be killers are obliterated by a blur of gunmetal gray that pummels them into the floor, and before you can blink the carnage begins and seems to escalate to unimaginable levels of ferocity. Only your familiarity with Megatron allows you to discern him amidst the flurry of quickly diminishing combatants, but he's nothing like the mech you know in this instant, going for sheer brute force over strategy as he tears aliens apart with his bare servos. In the bloody chaos you can't tell if he's taking damage or not despite the sheer numbers he was initially facing.

·The end of it all is somehow more startling than the beggining. In one final attack he ends the last soldier, quieting the cacophony of battle to leave only the steady drip of alien blood down the wall and his own haggard ventilations. There's a dash of bright energon amongst the mess, glowing in rivulets down his side, and somehow that's what gets your cloudy brain moving again. Pushing exhausted legs against the floor, you try to rise as you cry out in concern, reaching for him before you collapse right back against the solid ground.

·Heedless to his own injuries, Megatron is over you in a single instant, no longer blinded by the fury he'd experienced at the sight of you in peril. All he'd known was that your attackers had needed to die, no hesitation, and tearing them apart had come easily from there. Now things are once again far from simple. The blood on his hands doesn't stop him from picking you up as gingerly as he can, though your impossibly tiny body appears more delicate than ever in his massive palms. Though it makes him sick to realize, he does indeed know a struggling organic when he sees one, making the captain's words burn in his audials once more.

·Guilt is forced down to a minimum so he can focus on what matters; you. He needs to get you somewhere safe but with access to oxygen, and the only place that can happen is the medical bay or the laboratory, and he knows both are quite close. He couldn't care less about his own gashed side, so even if the medics and scientists are elsewhere he should likely be able to rig something up before energon loss impacts him. Holding you close, in a way that will permit him to shield you with his body, he starts moving while he speaks to you. It's obvious even to him his words aren't motivating, but at least they seem to get your attention.

·Looking up at him, feeling like you're tiny beyond belief thanks to his incredible size, you wonder how much of this could be real. Megatron had just hurled himself into battle for you, enduring agonizing wounds in the process, and beaten back what should have been impossible odds... If he wasn't so close you could touch him, you'd certainly think he was just a figment of your imagination emerging from the spinning hallways around you. His deep baritone rumbles reassurances to you as your eyes slowly drift shut, your perception fading around the edges until he's all you can see, and you can feel sleep beckoning like never before.

·He truly has seen enough organics dying to recognize that you're fading in his arms, and seeing the connection between such atrocities and you is slowly starting to tear into him with guilt that refuses to be ignored. How many lives just like yours has he snuffed out? How recently was it that he could have ended your life amongst the billions of others, unaware of what a gift you are to the universe? More specifically, because of this, what right does he have to so much as look at you? The thoughts are a dark and unmanageable tangle by the time he arrives at his destination, where an already overwhelmed medical crew is tending to the injured from an apparently victorious battle. He's near to shock when he hands you over to a frantically rushing Ratchet and simply explains you need oxygen, his hand gingerly cupping his injury before he firmly insists on being the last to be repaired. If he's spoken to afterwards, he doesn't remember any of what is said.

·The medical bay is dim when you awaken, and you see that you've been placed in your own private room when you look about, oxygen mask holding secure to your face as you do so. A massive shape against the wall would have startled you if you didn't immediately recognize Megatron. He smiles almost sadly when you awaken, and while you initially attribute his uncharacteristic weariness to the welded injury on his side, he quickly makes it clear that isn't the case. Whispering a simple wish for your recovery, he excuses himself and makes to leave, and you know that something is amiss m

·When you merely call for him to stop, he breaks, confessing that his relief to see you alive is equal only to his certainty that he's not worthy of you and can no longer pretend otherwise. It takes all of your strength to sit up and demand he stay; you refuse to let the bot who just saved you walk out, especially when you've made it abundantly clear his past is something you've accepted, and your firm reminder is cut short only by dizziness forcing you to lay back. The sight stirs him to return to your side, concern in his optics, and you lay a hand on the tip of his digit in a breathless and wordless reminder; he's more than his past to you, and you made that decision knowing the struggles ahead. He smiles as his digit gently strokes your forehead, recalling that he too had made a decision that day; to trust you meant yours.

Thunderclash

·The two of you are in the hangar practicing sparring, which for your benefit mostly consists of him holding up a training dummy against his palm while you whack at it, and as is often the case you've become sidetracked by conversation over actual work. He's laying on his front to keep the two of you closer to eye level, leaning his chin against his spare hand for comfort, talking about all the little things that come to mind as opposed to the grand topics he's used to being asked about. Frankly, this freedom a big part of what he likes about these moments with you. He gets to just be a bot with interests like any other.

·Your casual chat is interrupted by a communication from the command team on the bridge, who summon him for assistance tracing where a series of small anomalies across the ship might be coming from. Systems are glitching in ways that can't be explained, the defensive radar can't seem to decide if there's something in the apparently empty space around them, and in an ironic twist the message goes dead just as communication problems are mentioned. It's quickly apparent something needs to be done.

·Apologizing for having to cut things short, the massive bot offers to give you a ride to the heart of the ship, which he'll have to pass on his way to the bridge. Always eager to spend more time together, you happily oblige, taking the place of the training dummy in his palm as he lifts you to rest beside his spark. While his shoulder is arguably a more dignified location, you take more than a little comfort feeling the hum of his energy at your back, and thus have chosen this as your travel spot. Between his wound and the many setbacks it's taken to get him back in shape, it's just nice to feel his spark going strong.

·Not long after setting off, he gets the sense there's more to these troubles than technical error, and that something less than desirable may be the culprit. It's not something he can explain, but being more attuned to the subtler things in his environment just gives him a feeling. When he voices this to you, along with the thought you should probably be left somewhere safe, you ask what he believes might be coming. Not because you don't believe him, but you know he only drops his smile when he is preparing for something bad, and you haven't seen proof of any concrete threat.

·With almost comedic timing, the ship lurches at that very moment, nearly knocking the big bot off balance. Only his firm but careful hold saves you from a twenty foot fall. The rumble fades off with something like a great dragging sensation through the ship, which you'd compare to a Manhattan sized car grinding to a halt. Now cupping you in both hands, Thunderclash asks earnestly if you're alright, to which you reassuringly reply that a little turbulence isn't enough to do any damage.

·Smiling at the fortitude of your tiny body, he begins walking straight away, shifting to strategy as his red optics narrow in contemplation. He explains that the particular nature of that shake confirmed his suspicions something is planning an attack. Rather, they're initiating an attack. The sensation of a ship being locked to another and anchored is a particular one, and combined with their systems crashing it's obvious an enemy has come prepared to strike for a well planned ambush.

·You see that he's worrying, but you say nothing of it, taking hold of his thumb to communicate support. Being with him in private has made it clear his existence as a perpetual source of strength for others exhausts him, so you've since committed to acting as his well of certainty in difficult times. Not letting your fear bleed in to your words, you instead ask what the two of you should do, confirming your own communicator is uselessly jammed as you do so.

·Moving through the ship at considerable speed with his long legs, he decides that you'll still need to be secured rather quickly, as enemy combatants are probably already storming the ship or preparing to do so. You'd debate him if you weren't well aware of the logic in his plan. No matter what the enemy is, you won't stand much of a chance in a full on brawl, as anything confident enough to attack a Cybertronian starship is likely to have the firepower to back itself up. Still, it's impossible not to be dissapointed by your inability to offer aid, though it's probably for the best as you're rather exhausted from sparring anyway.

·It happens in a blur, but that's partly because of the shocking reaction time of the bot carrying you, something few would expect due to his size. Thunderclash registers the threat as soon as he turns the corner, a feat aided by the very much not Cybertronian appearance of the figures he sees, and then made far easier by the multiple clicks of weapons preparing to fire. Your presence in his hands became his central point of focus in that instant. Turning on the spot, he allowed the first hail of bullets to strike his armored back, keeping you well out of the line of fire before ducking behind an opposite corner for cover. The sting of the gunfire matters little when he sees you safe in his hands, and less when he instructs you to stay low after setting you down and charging in to fight.

·In the heat of it all, you're embarrassed to be caught so frazzled, as this is hardly your first exposure to alien combat. But there's little time to admonish yourself when chaos unfolds just around the corner, and your tiny size permits a small peek... Thunderclash is the gentlest giant in the world to you, but in just a few blinks the hulking aliens are on the losing front, and while his fighting style is far from gratuitous it is effective. You're still trembling from the rush of the initial shock when the last enemy of the group is on the floor, but even with your shaky vision you can see your bot is unharmed. For a moment that little burst of relief supersedes everything else.

·In usual fashion though, he expresses worry for you when he returns to pick you up from where he left you, drawing an affectionate chuckle from you at how impossibly selfless this mech can be. But he doesn't back down from the question like he usually does. His expression of concern intensifies as he starts moving again, and his sharp optics find ample to worry about on your seemingly unharmed body, with particular attention being paid to your face. Those brilliant eyes of yours are well known to him, and so he can tell something is... off in their beautiful depths. Even if his medical studies focus very little on organics, he's able to recognize the signs of a body struggling, and your paleness combined with the way you labor for each breath tells him something is very wrong.

·Now in a race against time, he has no choice but to move, gunning it towards the ship's tech wing where the laboratories and medical bay are located. He doesn't yet know what's wrong with you for certain, but aid will be there if it's anywhere to be found. There's no time to be wasted in securing you somewhere either, he's going to have to face any threats as they come in the moment whilst ensuring your protection in the process. It's a set of circumstances he's encountered before in his long and eventful time as a soldier, but there's an entirely new variable this time around; you. He adores you, like no one he's ever met before, and perhaps it's selfish but the very thought of losing you... he's not sure his spark could take it.

·The soothing tone of his voice and the rhythmic thumping of his footsteps make it surprisingly difficult for you to heed his requests to stay as awake as possible. Even though your breaths are coming in with difficulty, it seems like sleep would be a fantastic idea at the moment, even if only to rest your eyes. His cupped hands just support your body so nicely, and are so warm, and his voice is so delightfully melodic. Why does he seem so intent on keeping you conscious? Why does he look so incredibly upset to see you struggling to keep your eyes open?

·The pathway he chooses is mercifully free of conflict at first, but that matters little due to your rate of deterioration, as you may not make it even at his full speed. Driving isn't an option due to his need to be combat ready, and the lack of options and hope is absolutely tearing him apart. He hasn't had someone like you in his life before, and the desperation in his voice begins to show that, cracking as he loses his steadfast control of his usually impervious wall of confidence. The selfishness of his desire kills him; how dare he put his own feelings on you due to his weakness? Begging you to survive for his sake?

·No amount of haze can prevent you from startling at his pain. There are tears in his optics, though he doesn't even seem to notice them, letting them fall down his face as he pleads. In the warm fog clouding your brain, you feel a surge of worry, and your hand instinctively grabs at his nearest digit to give it a squeeze. Before you can even offer a breathless reasurance, he ceases running and dives from gunfire that seems to erupt from nowhere, laying you in a tiny maintenance crevice before hurling himself at the second delay he knows you don't have time for. The last thing you see before drifting off is the grief in his optics that you wish you'd been able to comfort...

·While his combat skills always make things quick, in this blur of pain and rage he's downright brutal, ending each foe swiftly but with absolute contempt for their existence clear in every torn limb. Hits to his own frame don't register at all. Bullets and blades mean nothing in the face of what he's about to lose, and the vengeance fueling his strength turns foes into scattered body parts more effectively than any grenade ever could. By the end of it all he's likely set a record for the swiftness of his takedown, but it matters as little as his multitude of bleeding wounds. All he can see is your now limp body as he pulls it from the hiding spot, and his vision narrows to only your faintly moving chest and his pedes moving one past the other through the carnage.

·There's a mass of activity in the technology wing, likely due to injuries as well as the many bots ordered to stand guard in the event of battle, but he doesn't hear the reaction his arrival triggers in the slightest. His sharp processor is reduced to one goal, and anything unrelated doesn't exist. At the sight of the crowded medical bay he starts to strategize. Ratchet appears in his vision, first focusing only on his obvious injuries and the alien blood he didn't know was spattered across his frame, before well trained optics catch sight of the tiny human limp in his hands.

·There's a rush of an explanation; they think one of the systems downed was the atmospheric generators, resulting in a loss of the oxygen the ship maintains for your needs. It's all the information Thunderclash needs to act. Brushing off any help for himself and encouraging the more egregiously wounded to be tended first, he requests only to be provided what you need. Busy tending the injured, medics still assist him getting a supply of oxygen going where they can, with Ratchet using his particular knowledge of human anatomy to ensure the ratio is correct for your biology while Thunderclash prepares it all. Dexterous hands set you on a medical slab where an oxygen mask and scanner are used to return your blood oxygen to normal, and just like that, he knows you'll eventually be okay...

·By the time you wake up your tiny frame has been moved to a private room, both to keep you from the chaos of crammed in bots and to give the two of you privacy from adoring admirers. He's beside you, his wounds patched but his frame still dirtied with blood, a sight that shocks you enough to force a gasp into your mask. Perking up the instant he hears you, the hulking mech is as close as the berth allows in a flash. A stream of questions about your wellbeing passes his lips before you can get a word in. Between the dried blood, the patched wounds, and the faint discoloration of his optics that suggests recent weeping... It's hard to know what to ask him, so you vaguely request a rundown of what happened.

·His face falls, and in between recounts of alien attacks and near death experiences there's overwhelming self depreciation. To hear him tell it the entire affair might as well be his fault. You've always known him to be humble, even critical of his actions, but this borders on self destructive. Worse, the crux of his crisis seems to be that he was motivated to save you not just by duty, but by his selfish desire to protect the one he loved so dearly and can't bare to lose. His own desires are inexcusable in these things, as he puts it, and could have hindered him at your expense. Shaky arms rise so that you can grab the nearest part of him, a digit once again, as you encourage him to stop tormenting himself. You owed him your life, several times over just for today alone, and there wasn't a bot in existence less selfish than he. The kindness of his spark was what you'd fallen in love with, and what you still loved now, because he was more than a legend to you. You loved Thunderclash the bot, not the expectation everyone else had built around him, and thus he'd always be enough just by being himself. Finally relaxing after everything, and his spark singing at your ability to become his rock when he needs one, he allows himself to just rest and exist as he is. Laying his helm on the berth beside you, he nuzzles close, allowing himself to feel simple gratitude to have and love you as you do him.

#transformers #maccadam #more than meets the eye #mtmte #lost light #idw #tf #my writing #requests #anon #megatron x reader #megatron #thunderclash x reader #thunderclash #human reader #self insert

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.31

Hulk Smash (Pt.1)

06/03/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 8,188

Warnings: language?, war, fluff, smut

A/N: This one took a while to get out. I’m sorry about that but I hope you enjoy it. It’s a little longer than I’ve been doing Pseudo Princess chapters. I’ve been trying to stick to 4k-6k but this one needed the extra 2k words. I hope you love it as much as I do. As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work!! xoxo

Tags are CLOSED!!

Please do not REPOST my stories on any other sites. Reblogs are welcome!

“Stop. No. Not here.” Steve tries to push you away as your hands tug open the front drawstring of his trousers.

He’s been dressing lazily these past few weeks, caring little as to what he looks like since he spends most of his time here in your old rooms planning for what’s to come.

He’s been so good about obeying Grandmother’s wishes to keep his hands to himself. Too good. Your body is burning for him and you pull his cock out, still soft, and pliable in your hand.

It twitches as you take hold, Steve’s storm blue eyes shaking as his breath hitches when you stroke the length of him, base to tip as you lean over him, your breasts so close to his face.

“I want you.” You whisper, looking down at him only inches away from his lips.

You’re careful to keep your voice down as Peter is just outside the office door.

You hadn’t used this room much your first time here—most of your studying had been done in the library and the small table in your bedroom. Now that Steve needs a place to work, it has been converted into his own small den.

The large wooden desk, a solid piece of surprisingly dark wood in your father’s more brightly colored castle, is where he sits on a tall pale rose velvet cushioned seat. The tabletop is littered with scrolls and leather-bound books. Steve’s notes and plans. Strategies for the team.

“No.” Steve attempts to deny you, reaching down to place his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to push you away but his hands only flex around the muscle. “We can’t. You’re heavy with child, my flower.”

His cock seems to twitch harder at the thought and you feel him stiffen in your stoking grip. You know how much he loves your tummy. He strokes it every night. Cooing and cherishing you and his prince.

You’re eight months gone. The snow outside is finally gone. The trees are starting to sprout, and the bees begin to buzz amongst freshly grown flower buds. The castle is pleasantly cool, despite the warm day beyond the castle walls.

Steve has kept you at a distance since the two of you were rescued by Sam from Bright Rise. After a month and a half of waiting, your patience has worn thin. You want him, and you will have him.

“Then I’ll only have a taste.” You plead, dropping to your knees.

Steve sits up quickly, catching you below the elbow and almost pulls you back up, but he’s too afraid to be more than gentle with you. This makes it easy for you to force yourself back down and out of his grip.

As you lean in towards him, holding the head of his cock only inches away from your mouth, your hot breath finishes the job of making him hard as his shield.

He sighs, voice shallow, body tense as he grabs the arms of his chair. “Y/N…”

“Let me.” You plead, talking with your lips pressed against the bulb of his cock.

You flick your tongue out, running the slippery wet along the crease of his head until you reach the soft, heated tip.

With a quiet moan, you close your lips around him and give a gentle suck.

Steve falls back, breathing heavy, shoulders slumped against his chair as his chest and stomach struggle for air.

“Oh, my flower…” He whispers, allowing his hand to wander up to the side of your face to caress your cheek.

You smile, triumphant in his defeat. With gusto you take him into your mouth, struggling to take more than half of him, he’s so big.

“Mmm.” You keen, the vibrations of the sound making Steve gasp.

You begin to roll your tongue along his undershaft, when a knock sends your heart racing.

Almost as if you two share one mind, you scoot back as fast as you can (which isn’t as fast as you’d like) underneath his desk, thankfully shielded from view by the large ornately carved front.

Steve scoots his chair in as much as he can while holding his legs wide open so that you might fit there between them.

The door opens and Steve sighs with frustration, his cheeks and ears burning scarlet. You can see him. Only his face, but he spares you a glance and frowns as he looks up to see the interrupter.

With his elbows on his desk, he sighs. “What is it, Sam?”

“We’ve got the perimeter of the castle completed and Lord Coulson has sent an update on the state of the Kingdom.” You hear the drop of a letter on the desk above your head then look back down at Steve’s cock.

It’s begun to soften, and you can’t have that! He’d given in to you finally.

You reach out and take hold of it, wrapping your hand around the base.

Steve jumps, then coughs to cover the movement up.

“Are you alright?” Sam asks. “Do you need some water?”

You smile lightly as you watch Steve turn his blue eyes on you with a subtle look of shock. He shakes his head then looks back to Sam.

“No.” He clears his throat and you begin to stroke him, making him stiff again. “No, I’m fine. Is that all?”

“I thought you might want an update about Sharon.” Sam offers, and her mention irks you.

In response—and because he’s right there, pink cock erect and glistening at the tip where you’d been licking—you lean forward and press him to your lips again.

He shudders and you wrap your mouth around the head before sucking softly, moving your head forward until you’ve taken as much of him as you can.

You hold him there, tongue attempting to lap at him but unable to do more than shift around his girth.

“N-No.” Steve sighs again, this time pretending exasperation to cover the sigh of pleasure spilling from his mouth. “No. I don’t need to know about Sharon.”

“But-”

You pull back, as silent as the dead of night, breathing heat against him as you pull him out of your mouth and stroke him gently.

“Sam…can this wait? I’m very….very busy.” Steve sighs again, shutting his eyes tight as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock again.

He places his hands over his eyes, massaging them and his temples as if nursing a headache before meeting your gaze. He bites his lip, licking at them as you smile then take him in as far as you can once again.

He shuts his eyes, breath hitching as he turns his eyes back to Sam.

“Anything else?” He asks, stern and clearly in need of solitude.

“No.” Sam says, sounding a little offended. “That is all.”

“I’ll come find you later.” Steve tells him. “I might take a rest with her Majesty after I’ve finished here.”

“Very well, your Majesty.” Sam says, and his feet retreat from the room.

As the door shuts, he falls from your mouth as he stands.

He struts to the door, latches the lock, and he’s back before you in seconds.

He pulls his chair away and stoops down to help you to your feet as you struggle with the weight of your unborn child.

“I’m sorry.” You almost laugh, not really sorry one bit. “I just couldn’t let you-”

Steve’s mouth falls against your hungrily, his hands on the sides of your face to hold you still as he presses you into his desk.

He kisses you until your head is dizzy then pulls back to lift you onto the edge to sit.

“How am I supposed to resist you when you don’t play fair?” Steve asks, face furrowed with all of the repressed passion he’d had to shove down in the last month.

He hikes up your skirts, dipping low to kiss you again and you wrap your arm around his shoulders as he spreads your knees and settles between them.

“You’re making me break my promise.” He accuses you.

You laugh at him, unable to help yourself with his pouting and he stops as if you’ve frozen him in place. His hands are curled around your thighs, holding them apart as he presses against you.

He watches you chuckle, his expression shifting from frustration to a look of pure adoration.

If there’s one thing that Steve cannot get enough of, it’s your laugh.

“I’m sorry.” You giggle, reaching down to grab hold of his shirt front, holding tight. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so…”

“You’re not sorry.” He whispers, then kisses your lips softly before silencing your laughter as he buries himself in you, quenching both your thirsts.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re so happy. So satisfied.

Steve is sleeping with his head on your naked chest, his arms around your torso with one hand still caressing the side of your extended belly.

He’s been here all day, and you’ve been too happy and comforted by his presence to care that you’re so hungry you could eat an entire roasted pig.

Your little one however, protests violently, kicking against Steve’s hand.

He groans then your tummy rumbles and though he slower than usual, he’s still quick to respond to your hunger as always.

First, he picks his head up off your chest, looking at you with sleepy eyes. One closed, one barely open. His lips are curled into a small grimace as he tries to focus on your face.

“Wassamadder?” He asks groggily.

Your stomach rumbles again.

“You were so tired.” You explain, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

“Have you not eaten?!” He sits up, voice much clearer as his disapproval wakes him up.

“You’ve been sleeping so restlessly. I didn’t want to wake you.” You continue.

Steve is up and out of bed, pulling on the cord to call for assistance while he pulls on his robe.

Your heart laments as he covers himself up, but the door opens almost right away. You pull your bedsheets up around yourself and struggle only a little as you pull yourself to sit up in bed.

“What happened?” Peter asks, panic in his eyes.

“Nothing.” You assure him, sorry for the anxiety that your multiple disappearances has created in him. “We’re fine. I’m just a little hungry.”

“Why hasn’t anyone brought her Majesty something to eat?” Steve looks towards the windows to see that night has fallen. “We’ve been in here all day.”

Peter flushes and you frown at Steve.

“It’s not his fault, Steve. I asked them not to disturb us.” You chastise.

“That’s not the point.” Steve argues. “You are clearly with child. It should be our first priority to make sure that you eat.”

“I’ll fetch her a feast, your Majesty.” Peter assures him, then turns and disappears through the doors, shutting them as he goes.

“Steve…”

“I know!” He sighs, moving around to your side of the bed. He grabs your nightdress as he passes it then holds it out for you as he sits. “I know that I’m being unbearable. I’m not sorry though.”

You shake your head, pulling the night dress over your head. Steve pulls the sheets away from your legs and then offers his arm for you to use as you stand and pull the rest of your nightgown down.

When you’re dressed, Steve pulls you down onto his leg, sitting you there as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“I want you well. You’re still recovering from our escapades in Bright Rise. I don’t want you to become weak again.” Steve confesses. “It took you three days to wake up.”

“You’re worrying for no reason.” You reach up and fix his bed hair, tucking the strands back with gentle fingers.

“What am I to do if you should fall ill? I cannot lose you. Either of you.” He frets, placing his hand on your stomach.

“Oh,” You chuckle softly, affection pouring out of you at his sweetness. “You won’t lose me. If my hunger had been severe, I would have said so.”

Steve frowns at you, knowing better. “You and I both know that you would have gone hungry if it meant letting me sleep, which I am grateful for, but I want you to take care of yourself first from here on out. I’ve taken enough from you in our marriage.”

Biting your lip, you frown at first because he’s still suffering from his guilt but then you smile. He knows you well now. You hate it and love it all at once.

“Now stop arguing with me and promise me that you will do better. For our prince if not for yourself.” Steve says, playing dirty.

You feel rightly chastised and nod. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

Reaching down you place your hand over his and the two of you caress your stomach.

There’s a knock on your door and you slowly rise as it swings open.

Peter moves in holding a tray laden with simple breads and jellies for you to snack on. He’s followed by Natasha who stops by the door wearing a long and beautiful ruby red dress with an intricate golden lace pattern along her bodice.

She watches Peter place your tray on your table but waits for him to leave before she speaks.

“Have you received word on Fury?” Steve asks her.

“Yes. He’s on his way. It will be at least three days before he can get here. As for Mr. Lang and his wife, they should be here tomorrow night. Tony’s preparing a feast for them. It’ll only be us, but with what we’re asking of them-”

Steve nods. “Tony will spare no expense.”

“Nat, how is Bucky?” You wonder, moving towards her a few steps while you chew on your slice of bread.

“Better, your Majesty. He’s feeling more and more like himself every day.” She smiles, grateful for your concern.

“I’d really like to see him.” You tell her, pleading.

“Not yet.” She says sternly, then her voice softens at the disappointment on your face. “I know that you say you’re not worried about your safety with him, but we all believe we should take things slowly.”

Looking to Steve, you see that he agrees.

With a huff you move to sit by your table.

“How is his new arm?” Steve wonders.

“Stronger than his old one. It won’t be easy to break this new one.” Nat reveals.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one.” Steve says with a smirk, Nat returns it.

You’re not sure what’s so funny, but they seem happy about Bucky’s progress, so you sit down to huff on your own.

The last thing you want is for Bucky to be angry with himself. Blaming himself for something that was not his doing.

“When can I see him?” You ask, biting your bread once more.

Nat and Steve both look at you and Steve moves to you, stooping down into a crouch to look up at your face.

He slips his hand around the back of your head, caressing it before he places his hand on your stomach.

“We should take our time.” Nat tells you.

“How much time?”

“Until the baby is born.” Steve says, and your heart falls.

“But that’s still nearly two months away.” You complain, your heart aching for the torture that Bucky must be enduring. “I can’t wait that long.”

You drop your food, reach down, and place your hands on Steve’s cheeks.

“Please? He needs to know that we’re alright. I know you’ve seen him, but he needs to see that the baby is fine.” You turn a knowing look on Nat. “He’s asked about us, has he not?”

She looks away, confirming your suspicions.

“Steve don’t let him torture himself with this guilt. I can’t stand it. Not at my expense.” You wait but watch as Steve’s resolve breaks. He takes your hands, kisses your palm, and then nods.

“Fine. But we’ll go together, you are not to leave my side, and we will be no more than five minutes.”

You beam, ecstatic for your triumph.

You meet Nat’s eyes as Steve stands and moves around to sit at the opposite side of the small table. She’s frowning, upset that you get your way but only because she’s worried for you.

Instead of fighting about what’s really bothering her, she glares at your plate of breads and jams and sighs heavily.

“I’ll go get you something more substantial to eat.” She says simply, then turns and leaves.

“She’s upset that I’m going to see him.” You lament, your heart falling a little.

“She’s worried about you and our child. They all are. We only want to keep you safe.” Steve explains.

“I know.” You nod. “But I want to keep all of you safe too.”

Steve’s expression softens and he nods. “I know. My sweet flower…” He coos.

He spreads some strawberry jam on a piece of toast then holds it out for you.

“…if you could, I think you would save the whole world from all its troubles.” Steve shakes his head.

“Is that so wrong of me?” You ask him, and he simply chuckles before placing his elbow on the table, chin in his hand as he watches you nibble.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Stay there, please, your Majesty. I don’t know what else Hydra has put in my head.” Bucky pleads and you stop just inside the large doors of father’s smaller dungeon.

Though it is underground, it has been fixed up with a large four post bed, lush carpets, sturdy tables, and cushioned seats.

Steve stands beside you. On edge. Staring at Bucky so intently you think maybe he might be seeing through him.

Slowly you run your hand along his back and feel him relax, all while you stare ahead at your terrified friend.

“From what I understood, Princess Shuri had removed all of the brainwashing from your mind?” You check, knowing it to be a fact.

“She thinks she did.” Bucky relents. “Yes. But there is no way to know for sure. This isn’t exactly something that happens often.”

“No one is here to whisper into your ear this time, James.” You sigh, moving a step closer. Steve moves with you.

“Is that how it started?” He wonders, utterly confused. “I-I remember a little. Natasha told me that you’d seen Pierce with me before it happened.”

“I did.” You shake your head, placing your hands along the base of your bump, caressing the little angel within absentmindedly.

Bucky’s eyes also find your prince and are glued there suddenly, face contorting into a look of pained grief.

“Is he alright? Have-have you felt him at all?” He asks, voice so quiet that it dies out completely t the ends of his questions.

“Yes!” You assure him, a small automatic chuckle escaping your lips at the thought of your little prince being still, ever. “Yes, very much. He kicks me all of the time. He moves night and day. This morning he kicked Steve awake, demanding to be fed.”

Steve slips his arm around your waist, loving the side of your stomach.

“He does that every morning.” Steve agrees. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about. She and my heir were perfectly healthy.”

Bucky visibly relaxes, backing up until he’s sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I needed to see it for myself.” Bucky says, proving your suspicions completely correct.

You give Steve a frown and a knowing look. He returns one looking rather chastised.

“That’s exactly why I wanted to see you.” You tell him. “To show you that we’re alright. You didn’t hurt us, James.”

“Bucky, please your Majesty.” He pleads, sighing lightly.

“Then if I call you Bucky you must call me by my name too.” You tease him.

He gives you a smile before he looks down at his feet and chuckles only once before meeting your eyes again.

“Okay.” He shakes his head, then slowly his smile falls, and you can tell that his mind has gone back to the violence of the day he attacked. “What happened?”

You move closer with Steve along for your every step and stop at the first seat you come to by a small table set for two.

Natasha must be down here all the time.

Steve helps you sit—fussy husband that he is—then stands behind you, his hands on the back of your chair.

“I thought I was dreaming.” You admit to Bucky, shaking your head a little as you try to remember that day in detail. “I was still a little disoriented by the sleeping draft that Grandmother had given me, so I drifted in and out of my sleep as I watched Pierce exit a carriage. He called to Rumlow, who then brought you to him. He leaned in towards you and I could see his mouth moving as he whispered into your ear. Then I must have fallen asleep again. It could have been seconds or minutes but when I opened my eyes you were all gone. The carriage across the square stood alone and you were nowhere to be found.

“We didn’t see you again until you were in front of our carriage in the middle of the road.” You can see his mind working hard to remember or maybe to connect dots he’s collected of the happenings of that day and perhaps even his time in Hydra’s capture.

“Do you remember them messing with your mind?” You ask him, Steve stiffens behind you.

Perhaps you’re not interpreting his tense silence correctly, but you have a feeling that Bucky was never asked about his time with Hydra. Or maybe not in depth?

You look up at him, but he doesn’t meet your eyes and instead stares at Bucky intently, waiting with bated breath for his answer.

Bucky chuckles, relaxing his body with the movement.

“What?” You ask, “What have I said?”

“How can you be so fearless? Only Natasha has asked me about my time with Hydra.”

“I didn’t want to pressure you.” Steve interjects, his voice lamenting his hesitation.

“I would have told you everything if there were anything to tell.” Bucky assures him.

“So, you don’t remember anything?” You ask him.

“No, it isn’t that I don’t remember anything, it’s just that none of my memories are linear. I remember small bits. A cold table made of metal. Sharp bites to my arm and shoulder. I remember a deep laughter, then a surge of freezing wind. I remember a strange sharp burn, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“Now that I think about it, it feels like when Thor uses his hammer and the air is full of that same energy.” Bucky tries to explain.

You understand what he means though you don’t have a word for it. “Like lightning?”

“Yes!” Bucky exclaims. “Yes, exactly like lightning. How could they channel it? Hydra…”

He drifts off into thought.

You give him a few minutes of silence, letting him think.

“Do you feel well enough to greet our guests?” Steve asks after a while.

“I don’t know…” Bucky says, standing and wringing his new metal hand. He strokes it, massaging his metal palm with his flesh thumb.

“Bucky,” You begin gently and rise.

This time, Steve doesn’t follow when you move towards Bucky, and you know that the two of you are of one mind, finally.

Bucky takes a faltering step backwards, but the bed is there, and he can’t move any further. You reach for his metal hand and step so close that he looks down at you with fearful eyes.

His hand you place on your belly, a gentle smile offered as he quickly scans your grip, Steve by the chair you’d been in, and then your face.

“You can’t hide down here forever. I know that you’re afraid. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t. But my fear is in what Hydra can do. I’m not scared of you. You were the first person from Broklin’s court that I met after Natasha and you greeted me with a smile and kind words.

“I will never forget that. You also stood up for me when I arrived in Broklin. Steve told me how you chastised him for being cruel and I had no idea. Even if it was only to save your king from himself only, you will forever have my trust, Bucky. Whether you want it or not. You will never be able to make me give up on you and I assure you that Steve feels just as I do. And I’d bet that Nat is in that list of those you will never get rid of as well.”

In your stomach, your prince kicks and Bucky gasps. He laughs once, startled by the movement but then Steve is beside you, his hands on your arms as he meets Bucky’s eyes.

“I need you with us, Buck. We need you with us. My son will need his Godfather.” Steve states, and you smile, because you’ve known his intentions for some time.

Bucky is speechless and says nothing while your prince kicks away in your belly.

Finally, Steve’s own smile peeks through when you reach back to take his hand.

“I think you might have rendered him mute.” You tease. “You’ve broken him.”

“Are you alright, Bucky?” Steve checks.

Bucky seems to regain a little of his composure as he chuckles weakly.

“Godfather?” He gasps.

“If you are willing to accept.” Steve tells him. “I can think of no one else that would protect my son with the strength and sincerity that you would. Please say that you will accept.”

“Of-of course I will!” Bucky says, cheeks flushed, but eyes beaming. “How can I deny my King and Queen anything that they desire?”

“Then you’ll come to dinner.” You tell him, an order of the most loving kind.

Bucky chuckles again, this time with true humor.

“She’s relentless.” Steve teases. “This Queen of mine.”

Bucky nods and continues to laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you so much for joining us Mr. Lang. And you too Mrs. Lang.” Tony says, smiling at Scott while his wife Hope grins pleasantly beside him.

“Your highest Majesty of Kings.” Scott says with a flourish of his hand and a grin so wide it makes your cheeks hurt.

Even sitting he attempts to bow, and you have to fight the stretch of your own smile as you’re tempted to laugh.

“Scott.” Hope says her voice even and stern.

The table is full. Tony sits at one end, Pepper at the opposite end. You are sat beside Natasha, who has taken to fussing over you in place of Steve who has been placed across from you and a few seats down.

The others at dinner are Clint, Thor, Peter, Bucky, Sam, and Harold—or Happy, as he prefers you to call him.

Happy more than anyone else in the room looks nervous but you know it has nothing to do with the current guests and more so the fact that Fury is due any time now. With the snow almost gone his journey should be quicker.

“We are very gracious for your hospitality, King Anthony.” Hope says with a kind smile in place as she puts down her fork.

As they exchange simple pleasantries, you lean towards Natasha to whisper in her ear. “Where’s Bruce? Did he have medical work?”

Nat also leans to meet you then turns to answer you. “He has taken his form as the Hulk tonight. He’s monitoring our perimeter. If something comes up, he’ll let us know.”

You’re not sure what Bruce’s Hulk persona looks like yet, but you know that he’s larger. Larger than Thor or Steve.

But if they sent him of everyone on the team, things must be serious.

“I’m sorry that we’ve brought you out here for this.” You interject, leaning forward while placing your own fork down too. “I mean, I am pleased to have you here. Pleased to meet you. But under these circumstances…”

Fretting, you lean back and wring your hands.

“Y/N…” Steve says, worry flitting across his face.

Natasha is there for him where he is out of reach and slides her hand into yours to hold it and offer a bit of comfort.

“Oh, no, your Majesty.” Hope hurries to reassure you. “Word of Hydra’s ambush has reached the furthest kingdoms and we are happy to offer assistance.”

“Hope is right.” Scott nods, his face serious and honest. “We wanted to help even before word arrived with your request for aid. People are very fond of the Queen of Broklin.”

This catches you by surprise and your eyes go wide as you look at Steve then your father, and finally Scott and Hope in turn.

“Me?” You ask in shock.

“Why does that surprise you, little bird?” Thor wonders, happy for you in this news.

“I…” You begin, unable to finish the thought.

“Your people love you.” Hope says gently, a smile stretching her pretty lips. Her slender form and angular face framed by dark straight locks gathered gently up upon her head, all adjusted for you in its softness. “Word has traveled far of your efforts to make their lives better. They notice. Other kingdoms care. You are a wonderful Queen and we are happy to fight for someone who already fights for so many.”

Left speechless, you turn to Steve who sits leaning back in his chair, eyes dazzling with admiration but a smile that tells you he expected no less.

As all of you begin to round out your meal, you’re still reeling from Scott’s words when a sudden rumbling silences the room. It’s distant, past the castle grounds but it’s unmistakable. It sounds like the round metal plate that Bucky had thrown beneath your carriage in Hydra’s first ambush.

Everyone freezes in place, Nat with her hand stretched out over yours, your hands on your belly, Steve’s elbow still resting on his chair’s right arm as he’d been leaning towards Bucky to speak in hushed tones as the rest of the room had chattered away.

“Happy…” Father begins, and Happy springs to his feet and moves out a side door, long dark cloak of shimmering silk following behind him. He’s surprisingly spry for someone so stout but you know how much he must do for father.

Steve turns to Sam and Bucky, and with a firm nod they’re up on their feet moving through a second door on the opposite side of the room.

“Steve…” You whimper, more from fear of being separated than from any fear for your life.

“It’s alright.” Natasha assures you, but she’s not even looking at you.

Her own heart has left the room and you can see her desire to follow.

“Go.” You tell her, whispering so that no one else can hear though you know Steve will know what you’re doing.

“I’m not leaving your side.” Natasha says firmly, almost angry.

“And Bucky needs you more than I do right now. He’s still recovering Nat. Go be his iron shield. I have mine here.” You point out.

Nat looks at Steve who gives her a tiny nod and she’s up and gone in a sweeping sashay of crimson skirts.

You struggle to get out of your chair and Clint is at your side helping pull it back so that you can rise.

“Allow me, your Majesty.” He says with his eyes on the large windows behind you.

“Do you see anything?” You ask him, placing your hand on your back as you stand.

“It is late. I can’t see anything from here. I need to get to a tower.” Clint states.

“There’s a tower in the wing where my quarters are located. It looks over the entire Southern front. You’ll have nothing to obscure your sights.” And it’s where you’ll be if things get risky. Knowing he’s up there will give you comfort.

Moving to stand beside him you can indeed see that trying to see anything from this height and in the pitch black of night is impossible. There are a few specks of firelight in the distance. Knights patrolling the grounds. They’re a little more frantic in their swaying with the sounds of explosions at the opposite end of the property, but they remain at their posts.

Clint reaches up to smooth his golden blonde hair, touches his ears and for a moment you see them glow a dim purple hue before they fade.

“Clint?” You check, waiting for him to say anything. “The tower?”

Two hands run the length of your arms and you lean back, knowing he’ll be there.

“Go, Clint. And check on the other two as well. See if they’re ready.” Steve tells him.

Clint meets his eyes and with a quick bow to the two of you, he turns and leaves.

Heavy footsteps stop beside you and Steve, and you turn to see Thor also staring out the windows with a furrowed brow.

A quick glance back at your father and you see that he and Pepper are in deep conversation with Scott and Hope.

“I will stay with her.” Thor says.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “I need you with us down in the fight. Peter is coming up to be with her. And we have contingencies for her safety. Don’t worry. Your strength is better served in the fight.”

Thor looks as if he wants to disagree, looking down at you with a furrowed brow and agonized bright blue eyes.

“Go.” You tell him, trying to look as strong as you can.

You want to tell him to be safe. To stay out of too much danger. For your sake. Because you can’t stand the idea of his being hurt. But you don’t. Because Thor needs to know that you believe in him and you do. He saved you and now he must save everyone else.

“I’m fine.” You promise him and with clench of his jaw he turns and thuds his way to the Southern balcony.

The doors thrown open allow a rush of warm air to fill the room. Only the hint of a chill in the new spring air. Soft gauzy curtains are thrown up to wave and weave as Thor holds out his hand and his hammer flies readily into his hand. He holds it up into the air and a crackle and boom of lightning hit the spot he stands in.

You gasp, shocked by the sight never having seen him transform on the spot into his own unique outfit. He’s always been normal around you and this God that stands before you is not the Thor you’ve seen before.

His arms are plated quickly, each piece landing and stitching together like the sky is sewing him in. The plates run along his shoulders and torso. Six round plates, thick and with Asgardian runes burned into the metal fall into place along his front from large to small. His bottoms are thick black leather, boots large and reinforced with more glistening silver iron.

Along his shoulders a long red cape with golden threads begins to flow, down to his feet as his hips are shrouded in more thick leather armor.

On his head a helmet begins to take shape. Strong and crackling with more sizzling blue lightning that flows along the shape of it until two silver wings stand erect on either side of his brooding face.

As the lightning dissipates merely seconds after its hit him, he spins his hammer, adjusting his stance to brace himself against the floor. With a mighty thrust into the air he’s lifted off the ground and disappears into the sky with a small crack as he picks up speed.

Your terror begins to subside. Embracing the majesty of his transformation and the clarity of just how ready for battle he is soothes your nerves and you look up at Steve who stands watching you with an agony similar to that of Thor’s only moments ago.

Reaching up you place your hands on the sides of his face, caressing his cheeks as he wraps his arms around you more tightly.

“Go.” You whisper, voice shaking because you might be able to put on a brave face with Thor, but Steve is an entirely different story.

“I will come back to you.” Steve swears, leaning in closely until he can rest his forehead against your own.

His hands wander down to your lower back and the other comes around to press into the side of your belly.

“I will be back for both of you.”

“You’d better.” You whisper in return, trying to at least keep your tears from falling. “I’m not finished with my studies yet and I can’t run a Kingdom on my own. I can’t even spell acquisition without looking it up.”

Steve’s face relaxes as he chuckles at your little joke and it relieves your anxiety for only a split second.

“My son will have both his mother and father to raise him. You and I are forbidden to die until he is at least married with his first child.”

Steve smiles again, nodding before leaning in to kiss your lips.

Two quick pecks is all you good before he’s pulling out of your grasp. Your hands hold onto him as long as they can but he’s out the door after Sam, Bucky, and Natasha before you can even take a breath.

With your fingers pressed to your lips, holding that last kiss to your lips in worship, you watch as Father sends Mother away.

She gives you one last glance before she’s hurrying off to her own post in the war room to give out commands whilst Father is out with the team.

Father, Scott, and Hope get to their feet.

“Do you need to change?” Father asks.

“We are always ready.” Hope says and she quickly peels off her dress—one whole piece despite how much it looks like a traditional gown.

Beneath is revealed a sleek gray suit unlike any you have ever seen before. Along the torso is a framework of yellow fabric that you don’t recognize but it all looks like armor. Leather, but more pliable. She reaches along the back of her neck and pulls from there a hood that she draws over her head then attaches to her front a silver mask.

Beside Hope, Scott has also peeled away his nicest tunic and trousers to leave him standing in a similar suit of black and red, his own hood and mask also placed over his face.

Hope hunches forward, her eyes straining for a moment before four silver wings appear out of thin air attached to her back. They unfurl in a wisp of smoke like magic. With a subtle twitch of her right hand, she’s suddenly gone, replaced by a miniscule version that you have to squint to make out.

“Don’t worry.” Scott tells Father, place his hand on his shoulder. “If things get worse, I have a way of making sure they see the point we’re trying to make. They couldn’t miss it even if they tried.”

With a subtle move to his hand too, he also appears to shrink. As he finishes, you see the smaller Hope catch him and out the window they go with the sound of a tiny buzz of wings left in their wake.

“They were essential, I think. Hydra won’t be expecting them.” Father tells you, moving over to stand beside you as you reel from witnessing not one but three magical transformations in one night. “This is all because of you, you know.”

“Please don’t say that.” You beg, heart racing as you turn to look at the frantic little flames below again.

“No, I mean it.” Father says.

“Father-”

“I don’t mean this fight. I mean, this team. We’re together again, because of you. Even have some new faces too.” He smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Not just because you married Steve, but because of the things you’ve done. The Queen you’ve become. The woman you brought us all back together.

“Even Clint returned.” Father says.

There is a beat of silence in which you think about everything you’ve done as Queen for Broklin and it has indeed been quite the learning experience. You’ve learned so much about what makes the world work and where adjustments can be made to benefit everyone.

You’ve learned how to open yourself to weakness and you’ve found strength within yourself that you had no idea you possessed. You hadn’t known before how much someone else could mean to you and how that love could grow even further for your son.

You hadn’t known how freeing it would be to trust someone so completely and to have someone trust you so completely too. You’d never known what it was to share a friendship so deep that it became more than friendship. It became family.

“I wish this wasn’t happening.” You whisper, struggling to bottle up your emotions again.

“They were going to come back one way or another.” Father assures you. “At least this time we know what they want. Come on, let’s get you to your room.”

Reluctantly you go with him and let him lead you back to your quarters where you take the seat at your table.

The quiet is unbearable until…BOOM!

The castle shakes and you yelp as you’re startled.

Before you can understand what happened, your window is thrown open from the outside and into your room flies a large body of black and silver armor. It looks almost exactly the same as Father’s Iron Man suit, the only difference is the coloring.

“You’re up, Tony. They need you down there.” Rhodey’s voice says.

“Rhodey?” You gasp, standing from shock.

“Where’s Parker?” Father asks, “We need you out there too.”

“He’s on his way. His Aunt’s home was set ablaze, he’s escorting her out of the city.”

“You should both go.” You tremble.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Father says.

“Not a chance.” Rhodey says.

“Do not leave her side.” Father says then moves towards you to plant a quick kiss to the top of your head before he’s also gone out of sight probably to change into his suit.

“What’s happening down there, Rhodey?”

“It’s not good.” He states solemnly, “But we’ve got more skills than they do, though they have the numbers. We’ll have those soon though. Hopefully by morning.”

“Lord Fury?” You realize.

“Yes. He’s bringing every retired or decommissioned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that he can find that is still loyal to the cause.” Rhodey says, moving to stand by the open window again.

You follow and gasp at the angle your room provides to the fighting.

There must be a hundred Hydra soldiers marching on the castle with swords drawn and shields up. A dimly illuminated mass of black disappearing to the left where you know they must be trying to storm the gateway.

As you watch, you occasionally see a flash of bright red and swirling magic that you don’t recognize or the blue flash of Thor’s lightning.

You strain to catch sight of Steve’s shield or the gleaming shine of his helmet and sword, but you can’t see any of them. You can only hear the battle only just out of sight.

“Distract me Rhodey, please or I might go mad.” You gasp.

“How?” Rhodey asks, completely on edge. He clearly wants to be back in the fight where he belongs.

“What is S.H.I.E.L.D.?” You wonder, having read the name a few times but never understanding what it was.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. was an agency created from talented knights and other individuals dedicated to the protection of every human life from those who would seek to corrupt or harm them. They dealt with all sorts of threat from military threats to those that were…special.” Rhodey explains.

“Magical attacks.” You realize.

“Yes.” He agrees. “But they were infiltrated by Hydra and we destroyed it. All of it. Many people lost their posts in that initial coup, but Hydra was exposed, and we prevented an attack similar to this one on a much larger scale.

“The bad thing about it is that Hydra retained many of the scientists, witches, and warlocks that have since created many strange and highly damaging weapons for them. The sounds of destruction tonight are a direct result of that.”

“How many do you think will come to our aid? Do you think it will be many?” You wonder, desperate for any sign of hope.

Rhodey is silent, busy thinking it seems to answer your question. Just as you’re about to press him, the doors of your quarters are thrown open roughly and you gasp, jumping behind Rhodey and shielding your belly.

Through your door moves a large—no—an absolutely massive form a green and rippling muscles. He’s without a shirt, body glistening with sweat and sporadic splotches of dirt and what appears to be dried blood.

On his left breast is a circular etching, a shade of angry red with strange and unfamiliar runes and symbols. His hands are also covered in what looks like dried blood.

Around his waist is a long layered dark plum set of pteruges, held together at the front by a heavy iron belt with three skulls to shut the clasp. His feet are bare and that’s where you look first.

With wide eyes, you follow the form up to its face where he huffs once then moves in further, frowning at the way you’re cowering into Rhodey’s side.

“Won’t hurt you.” The massive figure says, and then you realize who he is and why he’s there.

“H-Hulk?!” You gasp, surprised by his enormity.

“Queen of Flowers.” He states, smiling for a moment proudly before moving over to the fire in your hearth where he then pushes the chairs aside, making them scrape loudly against the floor. He sits down facing the flames, sighing with contentment before he reaches behind his head to scratch.

“Banner what are you doing here?” Rhodey asks.

“Hulk sent to watch Queen Flower. War Machine must go back to fight. Go.” Hulk says, ignoring that he’s addressed as Doctor Banner.

“I don’t-” Rhodey begins but you reach down to grab his arm and meet his masked glowing eyes.

“Go. They need you. Please make sure Steve is safe.” You beg, then release him so that he might go.

“Hulk, don’t leave her side until Peter gets here, do you understand?” Rhodey checks, staring at Hulk until he responds.

“Hulk understands. Queen safe. You go.” He waves him away as if he were an annoying fly before Rhodey sighs and moves for the window.

“If something happens,” He begins, “Pull the cord by the fireplace and it’ll let Pepper know to get one of us up here.”

“Okay. I’ll pull it if something happens. Go.” You push him a little towards the window and with one last look at you, he steps on the ledge then leaps out into the air.

He falls for several seconds before a burst of stunning blue light erupts from his hands and feet and he goes soaring towards the fight you can’t see.

“Hulk hungry.” Hulk says after what feels like an hour but must only be minutes.

“I’ll ask them to bring something.” You move to the cord by the bed and pull it. A few moments later, a maid appears looking frightened out of her wits. “Food please. D-Hulk is hungry. Bring lots.”

“R-right away, your Majesty.” The girl curtsies and hurries away to fetch what will hopefully be a substantial meal

“Hulk?” You try, moving to stand closer to him.

He grunts.

“What’s it like down there?” You eye the blood on him, torso, face, and finally hands. “is the fighting very bad? Shouldn’t you be down there to help them?”

Do you really need to be looked after like this? He could be doing more good on the ground!

“You don’t need to stay with me.” You whisper, attempting to persuade him for everyone’s benefit. “The maid will come back and she’ll stay so, shouldn’t you go fight again? You should help them. What if they’re-?”

“NO!” Hulk shouts, slamming his heavy fist into the ground making the stone and wood shift with crackles and creaks.

You jump, surprised by his booming voice.

“Hulk told to stay and watch Queen. Hulk will watch Queen. Keep Queen safe! Hulk’s job!” He huffs, quieter but still upset.

You gasp quietly, but he doesn’t miss it. He turns to look at you where you stand by the bed staring down at the ground by your feet where a small puddle of water grows as it flows, hidden beneath your skirts, down your leg and onto the floor.

“Oh my…” You squeak, suddenly much more terrified than you were a second ago.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve x you #medieval fantasy au #royal au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfiction au #pseudo princess #pseudo princess pt31

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years ago

Text

Wyvernlair

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Ta-da! Another chapter! :D This is the one I was talking about, with a lot of worldbuilding and new characters. It’s also one of my longer stories, and I had to cut out a scene near the end, but don’t worry, you’ll see that next time. Now that Chase is officially part of the Masked Phantoms, it’s time for him to get to know the layout of Wyvernlair, meet new people, and learn new things. So get ready for a whole lot of all that. Hope you guys enjoy!

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It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.

All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.

Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.

“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”

“Uh, no, I...jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.

“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left...a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um...yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.

Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.

“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a dragon skeleton,” Chase interrupted.

Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”

“Well...yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really...picture it, before this.”

“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.

“What?”

“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”

“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.

“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.

“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”

“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town...it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.

“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”

“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.

“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”

“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.

“Well...yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”

The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.

In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.

Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.

“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”

“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.

“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”

“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.

“Organization is very important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”

“Yeah, and those things we do are...missions,” Jackie said.

“Alright, what kind of...missions?” Chase asked.

“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If...if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have...shown up. In time.”

Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”

Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”

For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.

Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”

Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”

“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”

Chase fought to stifle his giggles. Now he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”

“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”

“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you have a surname.”

“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”

“Really?” Chase said, interested.

“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.

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

“Chase? Are you awake?”

The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.

He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt...strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.

“Chase?” The voice called again.

“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.

“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.

Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.

“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”

Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um...I’m sorry, but I...can’t read this.”

Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You...cannot read?”

“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered...was that not normal?

“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”

Chase started. “What was that last name?”

“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently...

“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”

“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but...why? Who came up with it?”

“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there...was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”

Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So...I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”

“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.

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

After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for...

“Ibis?” Chase asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with you.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.

“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”

Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And...that’s what I know.”

“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.

“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.

“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and...well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”

“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.

“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”

Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him...uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”

“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”

“And where was that?”

“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and...ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.

“I’m...sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you...ever think about going back?”

Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”

It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.

But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So...where was—

“Hey you’re the new one, right?”

Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh...Tripp?”

The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How...odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are...?”

“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”

“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”

“You’re the—?”

“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”

“There were a handful in town—”

“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”

“I...what?” Chase blinked. “I...think they were all sorcerers.”

“How many?”

“Only a handful, about six or seven?”

“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”

“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”

Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”

“...Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.

Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”

“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.

“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”

“Um...if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.

Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like...this.”

He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”

“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”

“Well...yes, but I hadn’t...seen their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.

“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”

Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”

Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”

“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”

Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”

“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.

“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them...Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”

“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”

“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”

Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about...the oracles?”

Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”

“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”

“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic...what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”

Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like...his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.

“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”

“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.

“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals...these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”

Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic...“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”

“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”

“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.

“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.

“Oh. I...see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And...what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”

Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then...have you ever seen them?”

At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”

Tripp huffed. “I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”

“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.

“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”

“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So...if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that...they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And...their magic?”

Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”

“No oracles?”

“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”

“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself...and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”

“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess...Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”

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

Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.

Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”

The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”

“Um...yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how...big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.

“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”

“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside. “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which...” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”

Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing...and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused...and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.

“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.

“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”

“Well I wouldn’t be snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.

“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.

“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”

“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.

“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.

“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”

“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”

Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”

“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”

“...alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.

He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves...was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.

“Soon, please!” Lukas called.

Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”

Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.

There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.

Ten arrows.

Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.

One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.

The remaining four missed.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.

“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.

“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”

Chase nodded silently. “I...I’m not used to this bow.”

Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.

Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just...he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed...disappointing.

Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.

“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested.

“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.

“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”

“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”

Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”

Lukas nodded. “Deal.”

Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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huearmy · 4 years ago

Text

The Smell of Truth - V

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 6971

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: None.

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV - Chapter VI ChapterVII

The four of you walked a few blocks to a restaurant on the same street. Despite the cold air, the sun was warm and pleasant, so Jimin really wanted to sit at one of the outdoor tables, and nobody objected. You and the cat were still talking about work, Taehyung making comments here and there, but Jungkook only walked in silence beside you, holding your hand, happy he was finally having some contact with you. He wasn't even paying attention to the conversation until he sitted down at the table but you didn't.

"We're gonna order and pay. It won't take long." You told him. "Do you want anything specific?"

"Cake?" He softly smiled.

"I'll buy you a big slice. I'll be back." You said already going.

"Ok!"

Only then he noticed that he didn't stay alone. Jimin was sitting by his side, eyeing him sharply, vertical pupils almost disappearing, he was analyzing Jungkook. It is not the first time that another hybrid looks at him like that, and whenever that happened in the past, uncomfortable things happened next. Jungkook sat back in his chair trying to create space between them.

"So..." Jimin purred, dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. "How did you end up as Y/N's roommate?"

"I asked!" Jungkook spitted out. "I told her I want to be with her... I-I don't know why she wanted me neither... I..."

Jungkook kind of choked on his own saliva. So far Jimin seemed to be just cute, but of course away from you, he was going to try to establish some dominance over the new hybrid. Jungkook should have imagined this was going to happen. Even so, the cold tone that came from the other caught him off guard.

"Y/N have always liked hybrids... But not that much." In the absence of an answer, Jimin continued. Clear jealousy in his voice. "What did you do to make her let you in?"

Jimin gave an unbelieving laugh, tapping Jungkook's shoulder.

"It's okay! No need to be so nervous. I'm sorry I scared you." He said not in full cute mode yet. "I just really care about Y/N... She is my favorite human besides Taehyung. So until I get to know you for real, I'll keep an eye on you. For Y/N sake."

Jungkook gave Jimin his doe eyes and nervous bite bottom lip, and the cat had to work hard not to drop hard stare away and end up losing the threatening effect.

"Ok." Jungkook said with conviction "I will do my best to have you trust me."

Jungkook got bright red again, for real. One thing is you calling him cute, another completely different thing is a strange calling him cute. He formulated something to say to change the focus a little bit.

Jimin couldn't help himself any longer and smiled brightly, his eyes fading into two moons again.

"Awn you cute!"

"How did you meet her?"

Jimin is an egocentric cat, talking about his story with you made him happy, he was actually hoping Jungkook would ask.

"Ah... She and Taehyung are childhood friends. His father worked for her mother. I'm Tae's family cat. We have known each other since we were ten and she was eight I guess. In the beginning Y/N treated me better than everyone, even him. I was never a pet to her, and she taught Tae to see me as a brother. Now I live with just him and my life is almost perfect."

If Jungkook was feeling like an intruder before, now it was definitely worse. From their table he could see you and Taehyung on the line, and the two of you really looked like he thinks what childhood friends must look like. You were arm in arm, and he couldn't tell what he was saying to you, but you were laughing with such pleasure that your whole body seemed to smile with you. You slapped Taehyung's shoulder, looking around with a red face, and then leaned your head on him in embarrassment. In the short time that Jungkook has known you, this is the moment when he saw you more relaxed. He could see how safe you feel with these guys.

He was left out, wasn't he?

Jungkook raised his hands to cover his ears reflexively.

"Y/N said you are a pitbull, that's right?" Jimin continued the conversation, as if he hadn't noticed where Jungkook was looking, and the sad face the boy made.

Jungkook doesn't like this question. In fact, he doesn't like to touch the subject of breed, because it involves a lot of prejudice. People usually change the way they act with him after they learn what his animal half is.

When Jungkook just nodded in response, Jimin continued.

"You really look like one, you are a muscle tower with a cute face." Jimin laughed. "But your ears aren't clipped, which is nice."

"I didn't let them..." His voice escaped quietly.

Jimin's eyes got round as he realized that he touched on a sensitive subject. It was his turn to trying to change the focus to lighting up the conversation.

"I'm a lynx!" Jimin pointed to his own extra pointed ears. "That's why I have a short tail, and the color of my fur changes with the seasons. But there are people who don't notice right away, because we usually have big hands and feet, but I have baby hands."

A long second went by, the four of you - uncomfortably - looking at each other.

Jungkook let out a cute laugh looking at Jimin's cute hands extended to him. Both of them gave up on trying to continue a conversation.

Yours and Taehyung's voices got closer as you passed through the glass doors, leaving the restaurant's internal lounge. You found Jungkook and Jimin in awkward silence, so dense it made you and Tae shut up, exchanging confused looks.

"What happened?" Taehyung mouthed to you behind his hand.

You shrugged, eyebrows high.

"The food will be here in a few minutes!" Tae cheered, pulling the chair for you to sit before doing the same for himself. Since no one responded in the same excitement, he cleared his throat and continued the conversation he was having with you before. "Anyway, Y/N... You should see the doctor."

Jungkook and Jimin's eyes widened.

"You said it was ok. I thought you already went to the hospital..." He whined, crossing his arms, feeling betrayed

"Why do you need to see the doctor?" Jimin went faster to the point.

"She hurted her wrist and didn't get it examined." Taehyung exposed you with a pout as you showed your bandaged hand to the cat.

Jimin was pouting at you too... Angry pouting.

The two of them kept raining down arguments that an injury if left untreated can have complications, that they love you too much to see you suffer in the future, and that you should simply listen because they are older than you, and therefore, you owe respect and gratitude when they try to take care of you. They don't even let you talk.

"If I go to the hospital they'll tell me to make a cold compress, take pain medication, use athlete's ointment, immobilize and don't use my hand in excess. I'm already doing these things." You calmly said, as what they are saying wasn't a big deal, and in your head it really wasn't.

"And what if it is a serious injury?" Jimin took your hand in his as if he could heal you himself. Your indifferent expression melted a little when he planted a kiss on the knots of your hand.

"I already said it to her, but she don't listen!" Tae was outraged.

"Guuuuuys" You were the one whining this time.

"Don't 'guuuuuys' me Y/N" Jimin rolled his eyes. "After we have lunch, Tae will drive you to the hospital."

"I think they are right, Y/N." Jungkook timidly interrupted the staring contest you and Jimin were having. "You should see the doctor."

"What now? Besides being forced to go to the doctor, can I not even drive there?" You ask, with your own piece of drama.

"Exactly." Jimin said firmly.

You were ready to fight your right to just stay home with your work and deadlines, treating your injury the way you know it is best without having to waste time with professional help. After all, you know all the best strategies to beat your best friends in an argument, which work eight out of ten times you try it.

Jungkook was still feeling guilty for hurting you, and the idea of the injury not healing right just terrified him. Also, now he knew your friends he felt the heaviest guilt on his shoulders, if they found out that it was he who hurt you, even if by accident, would they forgive him like you did? Would they still be so nice? Jungkook was sure they wouldn't. And looking at him across the table, you could read all these things on his forehead.

"You said it would heal faster if you treat it right. So please do it." Jungkook said, biting his bottom lip.

"Ok." You sighed, more worried with him than your wrist at all. "Happy?"

"Yes!" Jimin hugged you, and then Jungkook, taking him by surprise.

"Get in loser, we're going to the hospital." He said to you with a mischievous smile.

The waitress brought the food, and the conversation changed course.

___________________________________________________________________________________

With full bellies you got back to your building. Jimin said bye and went to the office to get back to work. You and Jungkook followed Taehyung to his red convertible, which was parked across the busy street. With the roof off - as almost always, Tae likes the wind in his hair - he jumped in without opening the door, and put his glasses on.

"Loser?" Jungkook looked at him, confused. Clearly he is not used to playful bittering.

You sighed.

"Don't mind him, JK." You opened the door to him, and also entered shortly thereafter. "Don't Regina George me, Tae. I'm being forced to go, so I'm in a bad mood."

Tae smiled, turning on some music and starting the motor. And of course he took the longer way to the hospital to just enjoy the view. After all, what is the fun of going for a ride with friends in a convertible, if it's time for light traffic, and it will only last a few minutes. Going around the city, passing through the park and the historic area is pretty nicer - and the city is small anyway.

Besides the ride clearly affected your mood for the better - you are not a difficult person to please - and Taehyung found it amusing to watch Jungkook through the rearview mirror. The dog was having the time of his life, with the interesting view and the wind in his face. If you hadn't told him to put on the safety seat, you would expect him to be standing on the back seat.

As you passed by the side of the municipal park, with the lake shining in the middle, people running, walking their dogs, having picnics, playing with children, Jungkook's eyes shone with curiosity. It was so beautiful.

"It has plenty of space to run..."

"What is here?" He asked, tapping your shoulder and pointing.

"The park. We can come here sometime if you want."

"Do you like to run?" Tae asked, looking over his shoulder, his glasses on the tip of his nose.

"So we'll come next Sunday. Jimin can try to cook something and we have a picnic. You also need to sunbathe, Y/N." Taehyung determined without wanting to know your opinion, knowing that you'll just accept and prepare something else delicious for them to eat on sunday.

Jungkook nodded with his smile so wide.

"Mostly outdoors." He said dreamily.

Few minutes after you left, Taehyung suddenly stood up.

"Shut up and tell me what you want me to cook." You laughed, and looked to Jungkook. "Excited?"

"Yes."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

At the hospital you got an appointment with an orthopedist - Taehyung made you to, and Jungkook just agreed - even if you knew it wasn't needed, that a general practitioner would solve the problem, and would also release you earlier to go back to work.

After ten minutes of waiting in silence, your name was called by the doctor, you quietly got up leaving the two boys alone in the empty waiting room. The woman at the desk didn't look at them once, the sound of computer keys coming from her direction. One of the walls of the room was made of glass, with a view of an internal garden, and in the corner of the room there was a small water source beside the magazine holder. Apart from the sound of the water and the woman's typing, no sound gave any sign of life in the place, all very quiet, so quiet that Jungkook was afraid to make any noise. He was getting sleepy.

"I need to pee." He said, already heading towards the corridor.

"Are we going home now?" Jungkook asked too eagerly.

"Will you leave me here alone?" Jungkook loudly whispered, still afraid of breaking the silence.

Tae looked at him, confused.

"Do you want to come along? Need to pee too?"

"No..."

"I asked him to not let you alone... Well I guess he won't take too long. Wait here, ok?" You said this last part in a kind tone. He just nodded. "I swear that going with me is even more boring than waiting here."

"No, I have to do an x-ray. Where's Taehyung?"

"I know. I've had x-rays a few times before." He relaxed in the chair, your presence being enough for him to feel safe and free from paranoia.

You tried not to think too much about the idea that Jungkook had to undergo medical procedures in the past, to not have to think about the causes of it, so you smiled and walked down the same corridor as Taehyung, looking for the elevator.

Before Jungkook could feel sad for being alone again, you got back in fast steps.

"Here..." You held out some money to him. "There's a snack machine in that direction, soda and coffee. If you want something, just go get it... Just wait for Tae to come back. Ok?"

And then you ran to take the elevator that finally opened with a 'ding'.

Jungkook couldn't help himself but think you are cute being so attentious like this, taking care of him the way he always dreamed someone would do. Less paranoid than before, he released all the air from his lungs and got up to change of chair, to sit closer to the glass wall, where the sun was shining. Since he had to wait, at least wait absorbing some vitamin D.

He was looking at the garden, trying to remember the name of one of the plants, he had seen one exactly the same at home among yours, when two people entered the garden from the other side. One was a woman in a wheelchair, and must have been a hospital patient, the other who was pushing the wheelchair, dressed in a baby pink nurse uniform, was a hybrid. Jungkook frowned and looked more closely, curious. The girl with dog ears stopped the chair beside a tree, and crouched in front of the woman, the two seemed to be nice talking, because even with a tired and pale face, the woman was smiling, and the girl waved the golden fur tail, gesturing her hands as if she were telling a story.

"What are you looking at?" A deep voice spoke behind him.

Tae was back. He held out a can of soda for Jungkook.

"Thanks. I was just..." He tried to form a sentence to explain why exactly he was so curious about the two women, but the only thing he managed to say was. "I just found that strange."

Taehyung looked at the two too, now both of them were doing crochet and laughing.

"What is strange? Is just a patient and hybrid therapist." Tae put his hands in his pocket, finding the scene very cute.

"Hybrid therapist?" If Jungkook was confused before, now he was much more.

"Exactly like a job. They are very well trained from an early age to work with this. " Tae smiled, remembering that depending on what Jungkook's life was like before he met you he really had no way of knowing basic things in the normal world. Not every hybrid owner lets them know about the few rights they have. And well, Taehyung had no idea that Jungkook was a fight dog, if he knew he would have understood the doubt right away.

"Yeah... Like animal therapy with dogs, but with hybrids. They help the recovery of patients. Basically they serve to make patients who are hospitalized happier and healthier." Tae got a seat beside Jungkook, opening his soda and taking a sip.

"Wow. I didn't know hybrids can have jobs." A whole new world opened up in Jungkook's eyes with this information.

"Well... Hybrids cannot formally study yet, so the jobs they can have are still very limited. It is usually manual labor, waiter, janitor, store attendant, things like that. All Y/N stores have at least one hybrid among employees, for example. She believes that this is a way for them to have some independence, and takes great care to make sure the hybrid really wants to work, and is not being obliged by the owner." Tae explained.

"Independence, so that when the hybrids are free they have the means to go on with their lives. Is that right?" Jungkook concluded, putting together things you said and your uncle's speech on TV, and ideas that an old friend of him used to have.

"That's right! You're smart, man!" Taehyung cheered. "Are you interested in having a job?"

"I don't know. As I didn't know I could, I didn't even think about it." He opened his soda too.

Tae smiled in a way that his mouth formed a box.

"And that's totally ok. We have time to think about the future."

Jungkook's mouth formed a bunny smile.

"Yeah."

He was a little scared of your friends, but because they are so close to you, they are as cool as you are. Taehyung only has an evil face, because most of the time he is frowning, but in fact he is also a cinnamon roll as you said.

"Hyung..." Jungkook got another doubt.

Taehyung gave a choked laugh, looking around to see if they were really alone. The woman at the counter still didn't give a shit about them. When he finally answered, it was in a much lower, secretive tone.

"Humm?"

"Jimin is a special case. You see, my dad wanted me to go to accounting school like him, and I did. But I'm dumb for math, and I'm definitely not an office man." He raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Basically all of my college tests and exams were made by Jimin, which is fraud and against law, but it gets worse... On the payroll, his name is as an assistant in Y/N’s floriculture, and mine as an accountant. But he is the one who does the work, because he is the genius who likes numbers. That way Jimin does what he likes and is happy, my dad thinks I do what he wants and is happy, and I have time to do what I like and I'm happy."

"And what do you do?" Jungkook asked.

Taehyung was expecting Jungkook to deal less naturally with the revelation he made, but the dog didn't seem impressed at all. He just seemed to think it was cool. Usually he, Jimin and you keep this secret between you, but since you trust Jungkook so much to bring him to live with you, Tae didn't think it would be a problem, and that quiet response proved that thought right.

"Hey, both of you, you can't use flashes here." The woman at the counter finally paid attention to them.

"I like that you asked..." Said Taehyung, he is not a cat, but he is as egocentric as Jimin. He reached into his bag that he hasn't taken off his shoulder since he left the office and took something out. Before Jungkook could see what it was, a light temporarily blinded him. Flash. "I'mma photographer."

"Sorry...ah... Nicolle." Tae read her badge. When turning back to Jungkook he was rolling his eyes. "I was going to stop using the flash myself. With this sun I don't need to."

And he kept taking pictures of a Jungkook who didn't know what to do other than avoid eye contact. The photos were beautiful at the end.

"Not at all. I have a lot of work to do, and I'm kind of wasting time here." You tried to hint to get her to liberate you soon.

"Thank you, doctor. I knew it wasn't a big deal." You eagerly smiled.

"Why did you come, then?" She didn't get the hint at all, still not looking at you.

You held a sigh of frustration and responded in a joke tone.

"I know a handprint when I see one, and your bruise is one. Honey, if someone hurt you, you're in the right place to ask for help. I can call the police and make sure it's safe for you."

"My friends forced me."

You finally understood what she was thinking. And even if it wasn't your situation, with every word she said a shiver went down your spine, and you really felt safe. You almost wanted to cry at the thought of working normally and suddenly realizing that someone needs your help, but don't know how to ask. Well, your job is similar to that in a way.

"Thank you. Seriously, you... are amazing." Your voice was small. "But that is not the case. I do not suffer domestic violence."

She raised an eyebrow at you, still not believing one hundred percent.

"It was actually my hybrid." You felt pressured to say.

"This is pretty serious, too, you should call hybrid control." She dropped your hand on your lap and walked over to her table.

"No!" You almost yelled. Almost. "It's not his fault. He's been suffering from night terror and nightmares. I was careless when I woke him up."

She started to write on her computer.

For a moment she just nodded. She printed two sheets of paper for you.

"Then you should take him to a hybrid psychologist." She stated.

"Here. The prescription of your medicine and the guide for you to get a decent splint to immobilize that hand." She reclined in her chair. "And recommendations of good hybrid psychologists, there are three names on the list. And that's it."

"Thank you!" You were really grateful for that. You took your coat and headed for the exit, stopping with your hand on the handle. "And mainly thanks for your attitude, I didn't need any help but I know there are a lot of women out there who need it, so thanks for being available."

Back to the white corridor you sighed checking the hours, you only have a gigantic legal report to deliver before midnight, okay, no need to freak out. Ready to get your medicine and go back home put your slippers on. You hate hospitals to be honest, your quota has been hit for an entire month.

In what you came up at the corner of the hall, Jungkook's head snapped in your direction.

"I need to go to a pharmacy on the way."

"Yep. It wasn't anything serious, like I said." You answered with your hands inside your jacket pockets.

Tae whined.

"Ah, Y/N... I thought you were going to say something more fun. Like, I need to stop by an amusement park on the way..."

"As if Jimin wouldn't kill us if we did such a thing without him." You started walking to the exit, both males following you.

"So we pick him in the office and then we go." He tried to negotiate.

Jungkook looked from you to Taehyung with a little line of doubt forming between his eyebrows.

"No Taehyung. I need to work."

"You are no fun, Y/N!" Tae passed an arm by your shoulder. "Your job shouldn't be that important... You don't even like being a lawyer..."

You rolled your eyes.

"But it is! I'm new to the company and I want to be part of a specific case, and for that I have to be soooo efficient for them to trust me for this. It's not fair for you to be tempting me like that Tae." You pouted. "Besides, I wanted to be able to finish everything early, to have a free night today, and it won't happen anymore because of this silly visit to the doctor."

"Why did you want a free night?" Apparently this was the only part that Taehyung heard.

Before you could answer very grudgingly, Jungkook asked the question that was bothering his little cute head.

"What is an amusement park?"

Both you and Tae looked at him, forgetting the former argument.

"That's where we go on Saturday. Right, Y/n?" A smile spread on Taehyung's face.

"Damn." You whined, watching the water go down the drain. You always liked your freedom. One of the reasons you never considered adopting a hybrid - apart from everything else - or having a roommate at all is that you like being alone, you value privacy. One of your favorite things to do is walking around the house all naked and free, and now you were realizing that you could probably never do that again with a man living with you now . As you closed your eyes, resting your forehead on the cold tiles on the wall, the happy face of Jungkook appeared in your thoughts. "Shit ... it's worth it."

To avoid the noise and be able to focus on work, you found a good lo-fi playlist and put earphones on. The streetlights started to light up and the sun was going away when you decided to take a break to eat something and take a shower, feeling pain in your back and your butt square of sitting for so long. From the sound of a third voice downstairs, you assumed that Jimin finished the day's tasks and closed the office at normal hours, and joined the other two.

Entering the living room you were taken by surprise by kicking high in the air and jumping boys, the couch out of place, and a mix of music and laughter.

Feeling fifty percent renewed, you dried yourself with a fluffy towel and applied a moisturizer to each corner of your skin before dressing up, and then brushed your wet hair.

"You are playing Just Dance now?" You laughed.

Jungkook, who was sitting in the corner watching Jimin and Taehyung dancing, reached to your hand pulling you to sit with him.

"Jimin hyung wanted to dance..." He said, holding you by the shoulders. He looked like he was having a good time.

Jimin and Taehyung burst into screams and laughter when the song ended and the score appeared in the center of the TV screen.

"Noooooooo! How is this even possible!" Jimin threw himself on the floor at the same time Tae made a winning dance.

"It's because you stop to laugh a lot, hyung!" Jungkook mocked.

He looked so, so happy.

"Totally worth it." You let it slip, looking at him.

"What?" He looked back at you.

"Nothing." Your face heated up. "Play you now, I want to see you dance."

He made a happy squick getting up so fast he almost passed over you like a steamroller.

"Ok."

"Jackson!" Jimin greeted.

"I want to dance a hard one!"

You and the man named Jackson let go from each other, but instead of getting apart from him, you enlaced your hand with his, pulling him inside the apartment. He kissed your temple, making you blush, and Jungkook's jaw dropped.

"Hi guys." Jackson said, lifting some cardboard bags with his free hand. "I brought food, but I didn't know you were here so there's not much..."

"It's okay, let's put it in the kitchen." You said already turning around there.

"I message you telling the boys are here." You said to him.

"Did you hurt your hand?"

"This is nothing. You know me, I'm reckless." You laughed to yourself.

You two disappeared into the kitchen.

"Did you know he would be back today?" Jimin whispered to Tae.

"Don't know. She didn't kick us off." Tae was thoughtful.

The two exchanged a weird look. Jimin made a face.

"Nice, because I don't want to go home just yet." Jimin returned to the choice of songs.

You were happy having a glass of mocha latte Jackson brought to you when you said.

"But we should...!"

"I have to introduce you. Jackson, this is Jungkook... JK, this is Jackson."

"Hi." Said Jungkook.

"Did you adopt him, Taehyung?" Jackson asked cordially.

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Jackson reached a hand to Jungkook, wearing a genuine smile. "I'm Y/N boyfriend."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"Jackson looked surprised, and maybe a little uncomfortable.

"No." You answered, kind of nervous. "I did."

"Yes. You said we could talk about it when you got back, I didn't want to disturb you. You were working." You talked faster than you intended.

"But this is important, it wouldn't disturb me at all." Jackson looked from you to Jungkook and back to you and smiled. "It's just too sudden... Mostly coming from you."

"It was not planned at all, it is that Jungkook is special. It was destiny." You tried to explain, regretting the last part as soon as the words came out your mouth. It was a bit too much. You took a sip of your coffee.

"Got it..." Jackson shrugged.

Before things could get any more weird, Taehyung talked in his cheer tone.

"Since there's no food for everyone, we are going out to get hamburgers. Right, JK?"

Something clicked on Jungkook's mind and he came back to planet earth a little.

Jimin started pushing the taller boy for the door.

"Right?" Jungkook looked at him without understanding.

"Yeah, put on your shoes and let's go."

Over the shoulder you mouthed a grateful "thanks" to Taehyung, both by saving the conversation, both for letting you have alone time with your boyfriend and taking care of Jungkook at the same time. The three of them left the apartment as if you had thrown them out - as fast as they could. You sighed when the door closed behind them.

That said, you grabbed the jacket and ran out the door, not paying attention if he said something to you, skipping steps down the stairs to go faster, before the boys got in the car.

"Did you finish work?"Jackson released your hand so he could hold you.

"Jungkook!" You arrived in the courtyard behind the building, where Tae's convertible was parked next to your SUV. Jungkook was getting into the car, but stopped in mid-motion when he heard you calling. "Your jacket!"

"I forgot it!" His ears went up.

He came to you, and instead of giving it to him, you threw the jacket over his shoulders, making him wear it, and then zipped it up to the top. Something occurred to you, something important that you should have already said to Jungkook, and that now, more than before, needs to be clear.

"Jungkook, maybe you have already figured this out, because you are smart. But my work with that organization is a secret. All my hybrid rescue work with them is secret. So you can't talk to anyone about it, that includes telling how and where we met. It doesn't matter if you know that I trust the person... In fact, even if you know that the person knows the secret, avoid talking about... Got it?"

Jungkook's gaze became serious, in a way you haven't seen yet, a strong look. He was always good at keeping secrets, his, of the owners he had, of the other hybrids he was locked up in in the dark basement ... Keeping a secret of yours, who is a person he cares about so much, wouldn't be so difficult. "Yes. Does that include, Taehyung, Jimin ... and Jackson?" You looked away, biting your lip. "Everyone, JK. But mostly Jackson. Please?"

His gaze went from one eye of yours to the other, trying to understand what you meant by that. You are a person full of secrets, he already realized, and he has no problem with that, because he believes that you have your reasons just as he has his. "You can count on me." He smiled, holding out a little finger for you. You let a laugh take over you all. "A pinky promise?" "These are the best contracts." He shrugged. You hooked your little finger in his, sealing the secret of how your lives intertwined only between the two of you. Jungkook ran back to the car, where your childhood friends were waiting for him, wishing him fun and you returned to the warmth of the apartment where your boyfriend was waiting for you.

_______________________________________________________________

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lifeofkaze · 4 years ago

Text

An Art of Balance #8

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: I did it, under 2.000 words, hooray! And not because that’s actually HALF of a chapter that I had to split due to way too many words. Sigh. As always, Katriona Cassiopeia belongs to my amazing friend @kc-needs-coffee, I love borrowing her so much <3

Warning: mild swearing

Word Count: ~ 1.700

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 8: Rain & Thunder

Much to her dismay, Lizzie had been right.

Skye had decided to cope with her emotions by converting them into anger, most of it directed at her. Although completely unwarranted, they hadn’t exchanged any words above the bare minimum since the incident at the Quidditch stands. Lizzie had tried to talk sense into her at first, but after a few attempts she had given up.

If Skye was intent on making Lizzie her emotional punching bag, good riddance to her.

As the usual mediator between the girls, McNully had suggested to get Penny to reason with her, but the blond girl had downright refused.

“She is embarrassed because of me, I’m the last person she wants to see right now.”

So they had had no choice but to accept Skye’s stubbornness and leave her alone. It pained Lizzie to be shut out by her friend once again, but there was nothing she could do to set things right. She only hoped they would work things out in time for the match against Ravenclaw.

Lizzie shivered as she fastened the buckles of her Quidditch gloves tighter. The air in the Hufflepuff changing room was freezing, the icy winds howling outside making her wish the match was already over and done with.

The cold had hit them earlier than usual this year. It had been raining ceaselessly for the last week and today was not an exception. Even over the sharp gusts of wind Lizzie could hear the rumble of the excited crowd that had gathered on the stands to watch the match Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw despite the horrific conditions.

It was almost time for the teams to enter the pitch. Lizzie could feel the familiar flutter in her stomach settling in. Even after all these years, she had to fight hard to keep her cool before every single match. Pacing up and down, brimming with anticipation, she glanced over to Orion. He was fastening his captain’s armband above his jersey, looking as deeply relaxed as ever; nothing seemed to be able to shake him out of his balanced state of mind.

Trying to distract herself, Lizzie’s mind wandered back to their last tutoring session in the greenhouse a few days earlier. They had talked about her strained relationship with Skye and discussed tactical options for the match ahead. Developing strategies for possible scenarios while trimming leaves or repotting plants had become somewhat of a habit for them.

Unfortunately, Rowan got left out of the conversation when she and Orion started discussing team matters; and while Lizzie did feel guilty about not exactly furthering her friend’s ambitions, somehow, she just couldn’t help herself. She had always found Orion easy to open up to, but since they had started sharing something besides Quidditch, Lizzie had discovered he was much more faceted than she had thought before.

Sensing her nerves, Orion casually strolled over to her and put his hand reassuringly upon her shoulder.

“Relax, we’ll be doing fine. Just remember our strategy. If the universe does not interfere, we will come out on top.”

A derisive snort behind them had them turn their heads. Skye, who was leaning against one of the poles supporting the huge tent, was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Our strategy is bollocks if you ask me. Ravenclaw’s Beaters are far too skilled for this nonsense you came up with. Cassiopeia almost never misses a target and I know personally what it does to you to take a Bludger from Rath.”

“This is not the time, Skye. We have agreed on a plan and we are sticking to it. Changing everything now will severely unbalance our team. More so than it is already,” Orion replied calmly, but Lizzie could make out an edge of tension to his voice.

“We wouldn’t have to change anything if the plan was decent. I could have come up with something better suited in a heartbeat,” Skye huffed.

Lizzie’s had heard enough. She was already on edge as it was, and Skye criticising Orion mere minutes before the beginning of the match was enough to make her snap. She abruptly turned around fully to face the other girl.

“Tell you what, Skye I’m so fucking great Parkin. Orion’s strategy is sound, Orion’s strategy is valid and Orion’s strategy will help us win this thing. If you have a problem with this, I suggest next time you don’t run off practise as soon as your feet hit the ground, just because you have a problem with your overinflated ego!”

Skye’s face turned red, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Who do you even think you are, you- “

“That is enough, I believe.” Orion firmly stepped between them, keeping them apart with his hands, their eyes shooting daggers at each other. For a moment, his calm eyes caught Lizzie’s, begging her wordlessly to back down before things got even worse.

Lizzie was not nearly done with Skye; all the times she had been the target of her unwarranted anger were bubbling to the surface with force. But the steady look in Orion’s dark eyes cooled her fury enough to let her draw a deep, steadying breath. Without a word she spun around and stalked to the other end of the changing room.

As Orion called their team towards the huge blackboard at the far end of the changing room soon after, she tried to put her racing mind back to order. This was not the time for fights.

She sat down between Everett and Lucy, watching Orion prepare for their obligatory moment of vivification. Now he was all captain, entirely focused on the task ahead of them.

Listening to his enthusiastic speech, Lizzie felt herself relax. Her boiling rage subsided as her mind focused solely on what was to come. The tingling sensation in her stomach turned to burning excitement to finally get going. Even Skye seemed to be listening attentively.

“This match will set the tone for the rest of the season. Together, my friends, we will vanquish the challenge ahead of us. We will fight for one another as we will fight for the Quidditch Cup. We will fight and we will win, as one team,” Orion concluded his speech.

“One team!” they echoed, firing themselves up. Everybody grabbed their broomsticks and headed towards the exit of the tent when Orion called Lizzie and Skye back. Both girls eyed each other warily, neither saying a word. Orion sighed, his frustration palpable.

“My friends, I hope both of you take our motto to heart. We are one team. We need to be a union to succeed. Especially the three of us; we need to work together in harmony, or we will have a hard time against our formidable opponents.”

Lizzie said nothing, waiting for Skye’s response. She already felt sorry for having had a go at her, and just before the match at that. But she was adamant not yield to her this time. If Skye felt the need to fight, she could very well have that.

Skye’s expression was motionless, however. “I think we need to go. Madam Hooch blew her whistle twice already, won’t wait for us much longer.”

Without so much as another look at them, she turned around and jogged out of the tent, leaving Orion and Lizzie behind.

Lizzie was breathing hard. They were one hour into the match and it was exactly as Orion had feared.

Ravenclaw was destroying them.

The other team was in the lead, the score standing at 70 to 30. Lizzie grit her teeth every time McNully announced another shot had made it past their Keeper.

The Hufflepuff offence was utterly teethless. Most of their passes got intercepted and Andre, playing as Keeper for Ravenclaw, managed to block most attempts at his goal posts. Where Lizzie usually felt connected to Orion and Skye, she could have been alone on the pitch for what it was worth today.

Their defence was in shambles as well, the gushing wind making it almost impossible for the Hufflepuff Beaters to accurately aim a Bludger at the attacking Chasers. In fact, one of Everett’s Bludgers had almost knocked Orion out earlier.

This was not a problem Ravenclaw’s Beaters seemed to have though. Rath had been tailing Skye for the whole match, while KC had been keeping a sharp eye on Lizzie. They were effectively cancelling them out of the action, the Ravenclaw Chasers taking care of stopping Orion.

Frustrated, Lizzie wiped the stinging rain out of her eyes and gripped the Quaffle harder when a flash of blue robes and fiery red hair shot past her.

“Cassiopeia is overtaking Jameson, what is she up to? We are about to find out!” McNully’s magically enhanced voice echoed over the pitch, drowning out the roar of the crowd and the thunder rolling in the distance.

“A Bludger has set its path into Cassiopeia’s direction, there is only one way she can stop Jameson from a shot at the Ravenclaw goal posts, a good old-fashioned Bludger Back-Beat!”

Lizzie had seen it as well. The Bludger was racing towards KC who, with a quick glance over her shoulder, swung her bat expertly behind her, redirecting the Bludger towards Lizzie with full force.

She quickly leaned to the side, as the iron sphere shot towards her, but the distance between her and KC had just been too short. The Bludger grazed her shoulder, knocking her off course, a dull pain spreading in waves from where it had hit her. Gripping at the handle of her broomstick, she had to let the Quaffle go. It was immediately retrieved by a Chaser in a blue robe.

Meanwhile, McNully was practically losing his mind up in the commentary box. “And she did it! Cassiopeia pulls the Bludger Back-Beat off like a true professional! Only 12,9 % of all Beaters are able to hit their target with this technique! Ladies and gentlemen, this girl truly is Ravenclaw’s Rising Star!”

Lizzie grunted in pain and tried to catch sight of the Chaser with the Quaffle through the curtains of sleet. She would need to have a word with McNully later on.

Listening to him almost gave the impression he wasn’t as partially impartial as he set himself up to be.

#art of balance #hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion x mc #orion amari #orion amari x mc #lizzie jameson #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #quidditch #quidditch squad #the quidditch squad #why is tumblr making blank lines disappear #I hate putting * in there they're meant to be for POV change only -.-

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blackcloverdatabase · 5 years ago

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English Translation of Novel 2: Chapter 4 - Captains’ Dinner Party (Part 2 of 2)

(No illustration this time since, sadly, there’s only one illustration per chapter.)

Here is the second half of chapter 4! Less goofy antics in this one since more time is spent fighting in this chapter, but still a fun time with the captains, Julius, and a very stressed out Marx.

And if you haven’t read part 1 yet, you can read that here.

--- Captains’ Dinner Party: Part 2 ---

“Th-the Wizard King! YOU……!! Where have you been loitering about this whole time!!?”

Marx screamed, halfway to tears. He knew it was just a projection of Julius, but he was just about ready to fling himself upon him.

“Ha ha, sorry, sorry. I got too absorbed in analyzing these golems over here.”

“Too absorbed my foot! Everyone’s been waiting for you! Where are you!?”

In response to Marx’s desperate screams, Julius looked a little troubled.

“……I’m in the dungeon, the same one where we had restrained those members of the Eye of the Midnight Sun. I made a barrier and then reconstructed some of the old golems.”

‘……I see. That room was a blind spot. It certainly is very large and sturdy. That barrier is probably why I couldn’t reach him before,’ Marx thought to himself.

“It’s just, uh… remember how I told you that there’s a magic space inside the body of that golem? I was wondering what that space was like, and while I was looking at it, I accidentally got inside……”

As he spoke, Julius’s voice sounded more and more embarrassed.

“I used up my magic power…… so now I can’t get out… I’m stuck inside.”

“………………..”

In that moment, Marx didn’t feel anger, nor sadness, nor pity. All he felt was “nothingness”.

“That’s why, uh, this is hard for me to say, but…”

Julius glanced at everyone in the room before scratching his head again.

“……Could you… all come… save me?”

“Kah kah! So, it’s safe to say that… those golems are on the other side of this door, right?”

“That’s what he said…… Ah, but, as expected, we’ll have to go through that barrier. There’s a crazy amount of magic power comin’ outta that thing.”

The captains had arrived at the door to the dungeon. While Jack and Yami were talking, the other captains stood motionlessly. Julius was behind that door. All of them prepared for battle as they approached the door to the dungeon without a word, each of them holding feelings that could not be said.

“Jeez, I’m not even going to bother reminding you that you’re the Wizard King! Still, please don’t forget that you’re a 42-year-old man! You’re getting old! You should take better care of your body……”

“……Yes……yes……yes……yes……”

……Actually, Marx had been lecturing Julius through his communication magic throughout the whole trip to the dungeon, so it wasn’t that quiet, after all.

“Hey, Julius. This barrier, it locks people inside, but those comin’ from the outside are free to enter, right?”

“Huh? Y-yeah. That’s right. I have the switch to operate it. “

“……I see.”

‘In other words, once we step foot inside that barrier, we have to defeat the golems and free Julius, or else we’ll never be able to get out……. Well, if push comes to shove, I could always use my Dimension Slash to tear through the barrier, but that would be a bad idea. If I fail to take them all down with that attack and one of those golems ends up escaping, everyone would be pissed.’

While Yami was thinking, Nozel asked in his usual icy tone,

“Do we know our enemies’ numbers and what their abilities are?”

“There are ten golems. What I’ve confirmed about their abilities so far is that they are immune to magic, and they can copy the abilities of other magic users. When you attack them with magic, they are able to analyze it, granting them both immunity to that attack and the ability to copy it. Being hit by an attack just once is enough for them to use it just as if it were its own. By the way, no matter how beat up the golems are, it seems to have no effect on the magic space inside them, so you can attack them without worrying about me.”

Julius answered smoothly without a moment’s pause. Everyone couldn’t help but wonder how he got trapped even though he knows so much about the golems.

“Also, this fact might be the most troublesome thing about them, but-”

It sounded as if Julius was about to say something vitally important, but,

“……Huh, wait, sir!? What happened!?”

His transmission was suddenly interrupted. Marx repeatedly tried to reestablish a connection, but to no avail. No matter how many times he tried to reconnect, there was no response.

“……Woah. What, you can’t get through? Now that’s creepy. Usually, in scenarios like this, you discover that the guy you were talkin’ to died a weird death.”

“D-don’t say something so ominous! I’m sure that our connection just became unstable like it was before!”

Marx snapped back at Yami’s joke with a pale face. Vangeance stood behind him, contemplating out loud,

“It’s also possible that his magical power has been completely cut off…... this is a scenario I’d rather not contemplate, but staying in that magic space for too long may leave some kind of negative effect on the human body… Either way, we should save him as soon as possible.”

As he spoke, Vangeance pulled his grimoire out from its pouch.

“Nonetheless, there is still much we don’t know about the enemy. None of us know what exactly is going on inside, so we cannot create a clear strategy. Be on your guard.”

“…….Hmph. So, you think you can take the lead for this battle just because you’re the captain of the Golden Dawn?”

Nozel sarcastically retorted while he took out his own grimoire.

“In short, we should destroy them in such a way that they are not immune to. Attacking them with an object like what we did with Poizot should be sufficient…… I can destroy golems with abilities such as these by myself. Why don’t the rest of you go back and continue eating your dinner?”

“W-what are you saying, Nozel-san!? The Wizard King asked for ‘everyone’ to save him, so we should all go save him!”

Rill responded with desperation in his voice. Charlotte spoke up from behind him with a sigh,

“……Rill. Do you want to save the Wizard King, or is it that you don’t want to go back to the dinner party?”

“O-of course I want to save the Wizard King! A-also…… I don’t want to get stabbed.”

Their exchange of words may have sounded like they were fooling around, but both of them were holding their grimoires, taking a stance with no openings as they faced the door to the dungeon. Everyone was ready for battle.

“…….zzz…….zzzz……zzz……zzzz”

….Except for Dorothy. All that could be heard from her was the sound of her snores. She reached this place while asleep, and she opened her grimoire while asleep, too. Since she’s a person one cannot hope to understand, Yami just categorized her as an anomaly and said,

“Alright. Is everyone done preparin’?”

Yami asked as he drew his sword. After confirming that everyone nodded their heads (except for Dorothy) he put his hand on the doorknob.

“Then, let’s all remember to be on guard.”

He said idly as he threw open the leaden doors.

…In truth, they were all a little off guard.

No matter how strong the enemy was, they were seven captains of the Magic Knights. There was no way they could lose. None of them were flagrantly unprepared. However, they came in with the assumption that they “couldn’t lose”, which gave birth to inattentiveness.

……If it weren’t for that, then, surely, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

[Sensing, magic response.]

A shrill voice screeched the moment they all leapt into the room. It was the golems, pitch-black skeletons, and, just as Julius said, there were ten of them. They were scattered throughout the room, but once the captains were reflected in their silver eyes, they swarmed toward the intruders with lightning speed.

“Ewww, these guys are way creepier than I thought they’d be! I, like, don’t want to have anythin’ to do with them! Hey, like, one of you boys do somethin’!”

“Kah kah! And I don’t want to have anything to do with your girly-girl impressions, either!!”

While Yami was joking around, he ran straight for one of golems. Jack leaped up from behind him.

“Darkness Magic: Dark Cloaked Avidya Slash”

Yami started by swinging his sword straight toward the enemy. A sharp black blade extended from his sword and struck the skeleton with dreadful force. The blade sliced the skeleton in two, but still, the skull continued to rattle.

[Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-ii-I-iit, it hurts, storing in, memory-y.]

“Slash Magic: Death Scythe!!”

The skull and the rest of the body that was still attached to it was cleaved in two by Jack’s aerial attack. However, they weren’t finished with their attacks. He attacked a second, then a third time. He continued his downpour of blows until, in the blink of an eye, the skeleton’s body had been cut into little pieces.

“Kah kah. I see. After it has been hit by magic, it can copy it…… but if we cut it up this much, it won’t be able to move anyway.”

Jack analyzed the situation as he landed. Just as he said, the skeleton, cruelly ripped to shreds, moved a little with a creak before ceasing to move completely.

“Now, what do we do with the rest of them~”

Rill prepared his brush and palette as he aimed for the skeletons. Vividly colored paint-like magic danced around his palette, steadily gathering around his brush. He created a torrent of color, as thick and long as a serpent.

“Painting Magic: Spring of Restriction”

Waving his brush like a baton, he fired a torrent of magic at the skeleton, which wrapped around its body in a flash. The magic then slowly converted into stone, encasing the skeleton’s body inside and sinking into the ground. What was depicted upon the earthen canvas was a single painting of a spring.

[It hurts-ts-tsts-, storing-ing-ing in mem-memory……]

As it was enveloped into the center of the painting, it became completely restrained. Before long, it became utterly silent.

“A-fu-fu-fu~ It seems that completely restraining its movements before it copies your magic is also effective~”

Rill said with glee.

“……As I said, this is just like that time with Poizot. Don’t leave things only halfway finished.”

Charlotte chided Rill as she walked past him, slowly lifting her hand toward the skeleton.

“Briar Creation Magic: Limb-Cleaving Briar Lance”

As she cast her spell, countless thorns shot out from behind her with bullet-like momentum. Dozens of sharp thorns pierced its body, and the skeleton, along with the painting, shattered into pieces.

“What would you have done if it broke out of its restraints? If you’re going to fight, do it right.”

“It was fine. Restraining them is a more sure-fire way to bring them down, after all.”

“…Hmph.”

As they argued back and forth, the two moved on to their next target.

And then, finally, in the back,

“Mercury Magic: Silver Spear”

Nozel fired spears of mercury in the back to support the four in front. The spears pierced through the skeletons, stopping them in place and creating a gap which allowed either Jack or Yami to slash through them, Charlotte to pierce through them, or Rill to make them part of his paintings. Thanks to their downpour of attacks, half of their enemies were already shattered to pieces.

“……Amazing!”

Marx exclaimed, watching the situation from the back. Though they knew little about the enemy, they didn’t falter. They instantly identified the enemy’s weakness, established a strategy based on it, and each one of them performed their role with ease. It was a brilliant performance, a suppressive attack that demonstrated the experience they’ve gained from countless battles. There wasn’t a bit of awkwardness or strain in their teamwork. Each of them understood how the others wanted to move, reading two, even three moves ahead. There was a sense of unity Marx could feel as they fought.

‘As one would expect, there’s nothing that can stop the seven of them, though one of them is asleep…...’

As Marx watched in relief, Vangeance, who was observing the state of the battle from the back, yelled,

“Three golems in the 12-o’-clock direction are amplifying their magic power! We don’t know what they might do, so bring them down quickly!”

However, before anyone could react to his instructions,

[Initiating synchronization between all devices.]

When one of the golems said this, the eyes of all the golems that had been defeated began glowing red. The eyes of all the golems that were still alive then began to glow the same color as well. All of this happened in an instant. It truly was just a single instant, but……

[……..Synchronization complete. Now returning the pain.]

The five remaining golems cast their magic all at once.

[Darkness Magic: Dark Cloaked Avidya Slash]

[Slash Magic: Death Scythe]

[Painting Magic: Spring of Restriction]

[Briar Creation Magic: Limb-cleaving Briar Lance]

[Mercury Magic: Silver Spear]

The golems fired all the captains’ magic right back at them.

“Seriously…… hey!?”

Yami muttered in shock while dodging the golems’ attacks. The golems they hadn’t attacked yet were using their magic, which means…

“……T-these guys, aren’t they afraid of copyright infringement!?”

“Kah kah, this isn’t the time to be joking around…..I don’t really get it, but it looks like these guys can use any attack that was used against any of the other golems, just as if it was hit by the same attack.”

Jack said when he landed near Yami after dodging the golems’ attacks.

“And now, that means all the spells we just used are no longer effective against any of them… right?”

‘And no matter what attack we launch from here on, if they “synchronize” again, they’ll become even more powerful…,’ Yami thought.

Everyone understood this from the previous attack and switched to fighting defensively. Of course, not all options were lost. They can hit all the golems with a wide-range attack like Nozel’s “Silver Rain” and Vangeance’s “Great Tree Misteltein” and use objects to attack any golems that are left. However, if they do that, they’ll destroy more than just the room they’re in, they’ll destroy the barrier and beyond. Unlike the time they partially destroyed the area when they captured Poizot, there’s a risk that they’ll cause the room to totally collapse.

The most certain way to defeat the enemy would be to restrain them and then destroy them all at once, but all their restriction spells were no longer effective.

Except…

“……Everyone! Just one is fine! Defeat one of the golems and bring me its skull!”

Marx shouted to the group once he made his realization.

“What’s with you all of sudden? If you want a skull, there’s a golem we already beat over there…...”

“No, I need something intact! If it’s damaged to that degree, I don’t think it will function!”

“……Function?”

Yami said as he furrowed his brow. When he saw Marx’s earnest expression, he scratched his head as if he thought the request was a pain in the ass.

“……Jack, Charlotte! Help me out against this guy who’s the closest to me here! Everyone else should keep the other golems from gettin’ close!”

The others swiftly moved into formation in accordance to where Yami pointed his finger. No one asked any questions or demanded any explanations. Marx, the Wizard King’s one and only trusted aide, the capable man who assists the Wizard King in his duties on his own, said he wants the skull of one of the skeletons. That’s all the reason they need.

“Slash Magic: Schack Knife”

Jack made the first strike. He slashed the skeleton a countless number of times, just deep enough to create small fissures throughout its body. In response to his attacks, the skeleton headed toward him with fearsome speed.

“Briar Creation Magic: Corpse-Hunting Briar Tree!!”

Charlotte fired her magic in response, but it didn’t do much damage. Her briars made a direct hit on the skeleton’s body, but the skeleton knocked them all away and continued charging forward. However, her briars also hit its face, obscuring its vision for just a moment. And, in that moment,

“Alright, well, sorry ‘bout this. I’ll be takin’ your head.”

Yami appeared behind the skeleton, sword in hand.

“Darkness Magic: Dark Cloaked Magic Blade”

He swung his black blade across, cutting the skeleton at its neck, and, with a second swing, its detached torso was slashed in two.

Jack’s attack was used to attract the skeleton, then Charlotte used her magic to obstruct its field of vision, giving Yami a chance to land the finishing blow. To make sure this sequence of events wasn’t interrupted, the others held the movements of the other four skeletons at bay. Though Marx had requested the skull himself, he was once again struck with admiration for their skill.

“Here, bowlcut. It might still be capable of movin’, so be careful.”

“Ah……yes!”

The skull was casually tossed to Marx while he was lost in thought. It certainly was still rattling about, but that was no problem at all. As long as he had a model to work with……

“Uwaah……Sorry, Yami-san! There’s two golems headed straight for you!!”

Rill yelled out in a panic as two golems ran straight toward Yami. Since Yami was occupied with Marx, he was slow to react.

[Painting Magic: Spring of Restriction]

“!!”

The golem that Yami had just slain fired Rill’s magic straight at him.

‘Looks like the wounds I gave it were too shallow,’ Yami thought.

“……Tch!”

Yami leaped to the side to avoid it, but the colorful torrent of magic struck his leg, stopping him in place and binding him to the ground. While he was immobile, the two other golems prepared to fire their magic at him, but,

“Time Restraining Magic: Chrono Stasis”

In a single instant, the golems were captured within spheres of magic, and they stopped moving completely. Or rather, they were forced into complete suspension.

……There was only one person capable of this.

“Hey there, looks like I managed to make it in time.”

It was the Wizard King, Julius Novachrono. He gallantly appeared on the scene with his usual gentle smile.

“I was able to see what was going on from within the golems, but… um… y-you did a great job, everyone! Very commendable! Yeah… uh, yeah.”

……Well, he was acting a little more awkward than usual.

“T-the Wizard King!? How…!”

Rill exclaimed in surprise. Everyone else stared in astonishment behind him. He was trapped inside one of the golems, so how did he get here…?

“……I got him out.”

Marx answered everyone’s questions with an exhausted look on his face. He held the skull in his hands, his fingertips curled around its lower jaw.

“I was told that, when you press this part of the skeleton, all the contents of the magic space inside it are ejected…. Well, I’ve never done it before, so I was anxious about what would happen when I pressed it, but….”

The finger that pushed the skull’s lower jaw was still shaking. It was clear how anxious he was.

“But, you couldn’t have known which skeleton he was inside of…. Ah!”

As he was talking, Rill made a face of realization. Marx nodded his head before continuing,

“They said they would ‘sync’. In other words, ‘each of them sustains the same state’. Based on that, I thought that maybe they shared the same magic space… and it seems I was correct.”

‘Or rather, I’m really, truly glad that I was right. I was practically gambling,’ he thought. If he was wrong, then it was possible that Julius would have been trapped in one of the already shattered skulls. Just thinking about it made Marx shudder. No, it’s possible that they would have been able to restore the skulls back to normal after the battle, but who knows how long that would have taken? Plus, Yami probably wouldn’t have been rescued. In any case, he was incredibly glad that his plan succeeded…

[It hurts……ts…..ts-ts-ts-ts, storing, storing in memory-y-y……]

“!!”

Just as Marx had sighed in relief, the skeletons which were sealed away began to tremble.

“W-wait, sir!? They’re moving! The skeletons are moving!?”

“H-huh? A ha ha, I guess I was weakened more than I thought!”

After Julius replied to Rill, he turned toward everyone and said,

“Everyone, on my signal, I’ll release my spell! Immediately afterwards, everyone should attack togeth-

“No need.”

Yami interrupted Julius’s instructions, taking a stance with his sword.

“I’m gonna slice them in two, so all you need to worry about is stoppin’ them if any of them are still movin’.”

A tremendous among of magic power rose from his blade like black smoke.

“Kah kah! Hey, Yami, what’re you planning to do this time?”

“What, you ask? .......As I said, I’m slicin’ them in half. Those skeletons.”

Yami answered Jack’s question and aimed for the remaining four skeletons.

“And the space around ‘em.”

“Darkness Magic: Dark Cloaked Dimension Slash”

With one swing of his blade, the four skeletons, as well as Julius’s magic, was sliced in two. The skeletons continued to rattle about, but,

“Everyone, stay where you are!”

Julius shouted, firing off spheres of magic with unmatched accuracy. They hit the skeletons, causing them to shatter without a trace.

“……It’s…over.”

After examining the black dust left behind by the attack, Marx sunk to the floor in relief. This time, it truly was over. The only problem left was……

“Y-Yami! What was that magic you used earlier!? To slice through my magic like that… it’s amazing! It even broke the barrier…… Hey, show it to me one more time! One more time!”

…how to scold that old magic maniac.

“I’m really sorry!! I never thought things would blow up like this……”

Julius was surrounded by everyone else, offering his most sincere apologies.

“Kah kah. I don’t really care~ Thanks to this, I got the chance to slash some guys up.”

Jack happily informed him, glancing at the skeletons’ remains gathered in the corner of the room.

After the battle, everyone collected the skeletons’ remains and repaired the dungeon room to ensure that no evidence remained of the battle that took place. Of course, they did all this without calling for the Magic Appraisal Division or the disposal team. They didn’t want to make this a big affair, or rather, they didn’t want anyone else to know that the Wizard King, the man who stands at the top of the Magic Knights, got himself into such a mess.

“A ha ha… your criticism is helpful, but….”

“No buts! Things turned out okay this time because all the captains happened to be here, but what would you have done if all this happened and you were all alone!? This is why I keep telling you! You need to be more aware of the fact that you’re a 42-year-old-man!!”

“…… Yes……. yes……. yes…… yes……”

Incidentally, Marx continuously scolded Julius the whole time they were cleaning up. Marx was telling Julius everything that needed to be said, so the others felt no need to say anything as they waited for Marx’s anger and disgust to subside. In fact, they may have even felt a little bad for him.

“……Now then, everything has been put in order, so I’m leaving.”

“H-huh!? You’re going home already!? What about the dinner party!?”

Julius uttered in shock at Nozel’s words. Nozel responded with his usual cold expression,

“Because of the time it took to dispose of everything, the food has likely cooled, and the drinks have presumably become lukewarm. There’s only so much time we can spend here at headquarters, so I believe it would be prudent to suspend this party.”

“…………”

He was right.

“Moreover…”

He paused and turned around, facing everyone once more.

“……You understood once you saw our battle earlier, correct? Even without throwing such parties, we captains are able to come together and acknowledge each other’s true strengths.”

“………”

Julius’s mouth hung open at Nozel’s surprising words.

“Of course, I refuse to recognize anything else aside from their strength. First of all, I am opposed to sitting at the same table as any captain who is not a royal or a noble. I still do not agree to the idea that the rank of Captain should be given to such riffraff……!”

He realized that he allowed something akin to rage leak into his words and then coughed as if to regain his composure.

“However, I am aware that, regardless of my stance on the matter, all the people here have the strength necessary to be a Captain. Moreover, it’s a fact that they are capable of fighting beside me…… as long as that fact remains, then that is more than enough.”

“……Well, that was a roundabout way of puttin’ it, but I agree with ya.”

It was Yami who interjected. Nozel glared at him, but he went no further before taking one step away.

“Our everyday relationship definitely sucks, but we can work together when we need to do, so you don’t need to worry ‘bout helpin’ us out with our private lives.”

He looked Julius in the eye and said, as if it should be obvious,

“The Order of Magic Knights you created isn’t that weak.”

A gentle smile appeared ever so slightly on his face as he said this.

“Yeah…… you’re right.”

Julius replied, returning Yami’s smile. After making his moves both officially and unofficially in these past few weeks, there is one thing Julius has become aware of. They are – the Magic Knights of Clover Kingdom are - even more steadfast than Julius ever imagined. It seems that he never had to play any tricks on them at all. They’re perfect as they are.

He knew that they had the power to repel any hardship that comes their way, and, he can feel that, little by little, they’re growing stronger. Knowing that is enough.

“….. Now then, can we leave?”

Julius was immersed in warm feelings, but Nozel’s frank words wrenched him back to reality. He lightly scratched his cheek as he said with a wry smile,

“Y-yeah. That’s right. This isn’t really the right atmosphere for a party, either… And, as Yami said, it doesn’t look like there’s any need for me to interfere in your personal relationships with each other. Ha ha, the cooperation you all showed earlier was magnificent!”

……Well, the truth is, Julius already knew that. Private lives aside, they demonstrate a tremendous ability to cooperate the battlefield. He has known this for a very long time now. He didn’t prepare this dinner party to confirm that……

“……What’s wrong, Julius? Do we have somethin’ on our faces?”

“Ah……no……”

Realizing that he was subconsciously observing the captains’ faces, Julius hastily averted his gaze.

After the Star Festival, the Crimson Lions and the Purple Orcas will have new captains, and they will be back to having nine captains. In other words, this was the last time the seven of them will be able to meet like this. He wanted to watch them all eat and drink together at least once. All that official business he told Marx about didn’t matter to him.

The real goal of this party was for everyone to get along and eat together.

“……Its nothing. I’m sorry for causing you all so much trouble.”

However, this wasn’t the time nor place where such private thoughts could be said, and it’s true that both the food and the alcohol have reached a questionable state. For now, he’ll give up without a fuss.

“……Plus, it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to watch you all fight together.”

“Huh? You say somethin’?”

“……N-no. It’s nothing.”

Julius answered Yami’s question with his usual gentle smile.

In truth, Julius could have escaped from the magic space and defeated those skeletons by himself. Moreover, he was lying when he said that he ran out of magical power. If he had, he would not have been able to escape from that magic space, and he wouldn’t have been able to cast his spells twice afterward. He believed in the strength of his captains, and he knew they would work together. However, he wanted to confirm in practice how well the captains could cooperate with one another after losing Fuegoleon and Poizot. And so, he came up with this little “adventure”.

It was terribly unscrupulous of him, but it’s unlikely that this group would have the chance to work together like this anytime soon. Joint exercises take a lot of time, people, and energy to set up, and such exercises wouldn’t show their true power. For starters, no one else would be able to compete with them. In that sense, these golems were a unique opportunity. He had to take some scolding, but, in return, he got the chance to watch them in combat. It was a cheap price to pay.

……Well, his dinner party has also washed away, but there’s no helping that. He’ll set another one up the next time he gets the chance.

As Julius was thinking, Yami was staring at his face and said,

“Somethin’ about you feels fishy…… Mind if I get serious and read your ki?”

“N-no, ha ha! Nothing will come of that even if you do! More importantly, look, if we’re leaving, let’s hurry up and get out of here!”

The instant Julius made this suggestion in a panic, Nozel bowed his head and said,

“Well then, I’m leaving.”

Without hesitation, he turned his heels and walked toward the exit. It may seem rude to simply leave like that, but considering that it’s Nozel, he did a good job sticking around.

“Well, that’s too bad! A fu fu, to think such a special chance to eat with everyone would get suspended! I wanted to talk some more~!”

“Kah kah! Is that so? Then, you can sit next to Charlotte next time, too!”

Rill and Jack exchanged words with each other as they followed behind Nozel.

“……Nonsense. Do you really think I’d put up with your foolish attempts at entertainment a second time?”

“……zzz……zzz…….zzzz…….”

The other Captains also headed toward the exit as they chatted with one another. Not a single one of them wanted to continue the party. Everyone must have hated it after all. Charlotte even said that it was “foolish”. However, that, too, is fine. You certainly can’t say that their relationship with one another is “good”, but that’s exactly why they should clash with each other, argue with each other, and elevate each other. Cultivating one’s character through friendly rivalry is how the Order of the Magic Knights was established. Julius had meddled because he was afraid they were dragging each other down instead of raising each other up. If its ever needed, he’ll enact an even larger plan.

However, based on what he felt earlier, that won’t be necessary. The Captains are serving as exemplary models to their squad members for how such friendly competition should look. It may not be long before the entirety of the Magic Knights does the same. If they can raise each other up and act as one, then they can surely overcome even a tough situation like what lies ahead…….

Julius thought to himself warmly as he followed behind them.

“…..Like I said, you’ve been grinnin’ like a maniac since earlier. It’s scarin’ the hell out of me, so can you stop?”

Yami said as he walked beside Julius. Julius realized that he let what he was thinking show on his face again. He maintained his expression as he turned toward Yami,

“Hm~? It’s nothing. I was just thinking about how much you’ve all grown.”

“……What the hell?”

Yami said with a snicker. Then, he suddenly made a startled expression and said,

“H-hey, are you serious? I vaguely felt this earlier, but have you been thinkin’ lewd thoughts about me……!?”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about telling you this for a long time, but those jokes of yours trouble the people around you more than you think.”

Julius replied with a wry smile as he placed his hand over his chest.

“E-everyone!”

Marx yelled out as they were leaving. For some reason, he was sweating, and his lips were trembling. He wore a pained expression, as if there was something important that needed to be said… but he didn’t want to say it. However, before long, he steeled his resolve and spoke,

“I was thinking… about how to make the drinking party more… exciting, and,”

He tucked his quivering hand into his robe,

“I reserved a private room… where we could sing while we drink after dinner.”

And pulled out a leaflet for a certain bar.

“………”

For the second time that evening, everyone froze in silence. Marx truly was a capable man, and a very diligent one at that. Because he’s so capable, he arranged for the possibility of an afterparty. As a result……

“Wha……What are you doing, Marx-san!? Trying to make the party exciting with people like this…… that’s impossible, you know!!?”

Those insulting words came from Rill, who clung to Marx as he pleaded, his eyes wide with panic.

“Also, singing!? Are you insane!? Doing that with these people…… paints such a chaotic picture!”

“There’s no helping that! This was a last-minute decision, so I couldn’t find a reservation anywhere else! With people like this, I couldn’t simply reserve a restaurant that’s open to the public! We would disturb their business!”

Jack approached Rill and Marx with a glint in his eyes as they continued their insulting exchange.

“It’s fine, Rill~ You can sit between me and Charlotte. I can listen to all you’ve got to say. Kah kah,like what you really think of us, for example~”

Jack said as he put his hand on Rill’s shoulder.

“Hey, Jack. I never agreed to going to such a place…..”

Charlotte retorted with an indignant look on her face.

“Huh, what’s with you? Sounds interestin’ to me. I’m going~”

“……Wha?”

Charlotte whipped her head around and responded in a voice several notes higher than her usual range when she heard Yami say he was going. Then, she lightly coughed and said,

“W-well, as I said earlier, since it’s hard to say what a group of stupid men might do…... I-I’ll come, too!”

Hearing this made Yami and Jack turn pale.

“……L-like I said earlier, what’s with you today!? You’re after my life, aren’t ya!? If you’re gonna kill me, just make it quick! Just stop doin’ all this weird stuff to keep me in suspense!!”

“C-calm down, Yami! You just need to offer her something as a sacrifice…. Okay, let’s offer her the deer kid!”

“You bastards… stop fooling a-……! I-I understand. If that’s what you say, then I’ll grant your wish and end your lives right here. Prepare yourself…… Rill.”

“Wait, why are you starting with me!?”

“Ha ha! Everyone, let’s calm down for a bit.”

Vangeance interjected with a wry smile just as a chaotic atmosphere began to drift in the air. He then turned toward Julius.

“The one who proposed we have this dinner party was the Wizard King. I believe that deciding whether we go to the afterparty or not should be left to him.”

With those words, everyone’s eyes were on Julius.

“…..Hmmm. Let’s see.”

Rill’s eyes were full of tears. Nozel’s eyes were full of disgust at the idea of having to go. Marx had a pleading look in his eyes. Yami’s eyes were telling him to do whatever the hell he wants. Looking at all the different thoughts reflected in their eyes, Julius happily scratched his head and said,

“…Well then, we’re all here, so let’s go.”

And so, the afterparty from hell began.

--- The End ---

Afterparty!? With singing!? Ahhhh, this chapter ends too soon….

Did anyone else find Nozel very relatable in this chapter? The dude just wanted to go home.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. My next target is the 3rd novel, the Book of Yuno. So, expect to see a translation for chapter 1 of that book next week!

#Black Clover #Order of Knights Book #Yami Sukehiro #Julius Novachrono #William Vangeance #Nozel Silva #Charlotte Roselei #Jack the Ripper #rill boismortier #dorothy unsworth #marx #my translations

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losing-my-will · 4 years ago

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A/N: Yay, second chapter is up, and I wanna thank the wonderful @itsasumbrella, who she not only has great patience with me and I really don't deserve her, but because she's my beta for this story. Also, she has an amazing fic called "Wicked Game", if you know Spanish please I beg you; go read it!

ISOBEL

Summary: Grounded in a place she barely knows, stuck in a marriage she loathes. Astrid Hofferson has thought of her fate as the beginning of her end, a wheel starting to crush her life. But also on how she mustn’t completely accept it. AU. Hiccstrid.

CHAPTER 2

TWICE AT THE NECK

When she was a little girl, Astrid Hofferson nearly drowned in the springs of her village —she went unsupervised to the forest, no one ever knew of the event ‘til months later when Cami noted how much her sister was scared of water, she coaxed her one night to spill the truth but the child clumsily concocted a story; she was put in taught in the next weeks. Little Astrid ended up enjoying it, the very challenge itself of floating and not sank, and the test of her breath when under the water.

She wouldn't ever prospect that that’d help her swam out after jumping from almost twenty-five feet.

‘Fuck’ and with a pop in the k was the first noise reverbing from her. The cold of the water was too much to bear, and the sand kept getting between her toes, shoes apparently lost forever in the murky ocean.

Aside those problems, there were even more when she started rushing through that unknown land, there were no signs of any tribe or village, it was just green esplanades near and far and nothing else.

Has that taken away her exhilaration when she ran? No, no it didn’t, she’d never felt such adrenaline before, it was a reckless blending as one with the blood within her limbs.

However, Astrid has to admit she was scared, adding acutely aware.

When she thought she’d ran enough to be far from the shore, she ran some more, and when her feet begun to feel sore, she stopped under a treetop and leaned on its thick trunk. The trees in this land were tall and alive, unlike those in her village, and then she promptly realized too; none raid nor has violence ever touched the place, reason why maybe the water in that myriad of lagoons dispersed seemed so clear.

She had left her right foot rest on the boulder and inspected the sole if there was any more damage than the already open wounds and dry blood. Knowing she’ll only be attended by a healer if she finds a tiny but village at the least she unglues from the tree and went ahead in search for that source of life, birds’ chirps weren’t enough but they fill the silence comfortably.

“On we go” she breathes.

Since toddler, Astrid has relished in the action of walk, explore, she considers herself a highly active kind a person, and mostly because she mulls over when alone too, so whether or not the girl finished her chores she’d usually sneaked out of them and go strolling across her village or into the nature. There was no responsibility in doing that, but Astrid hated so much the work her aunt or other people assigned it at her. And not because she belittle them, but because she wasn’t meant for those chores.

Being a soon-to-be-wife of a barbarian didn’t fit in that category too.

She really hopes to rendezvous that village soon and convince any farmer with its life settled to adopt her.

Yeah, that’d be nice.

Just as nice when she finally come upon with one those lakes, the water it is clear and seeing the fishes swimming makes her stomach grumble in hungriness.

“I should have eaten.” she says pensive. Looking at her grime, trembling reflection.

“Yeah, you should have.”

A new face appears next to hers, Valthjof stares at her serious. She gasps his name.

“You followed me!” she hollered at him accusingly. And then felt rather dumbly, of course he would had.

He nodded. “I have to protect you.”

Astrid stares back at him innocently for a short but taut moment. “I didn’t get far enough, did I?” He shook his head.

Sighing heavily, she rose on her feet with eyes set on the few fishes. “I’m hungry.”

Valthjof nods again and stalks forward from her.

Astrid frowns at his back, quietly confused if she has to go after him or not.

Sensing her distress, he spins on his heels, watching her carefully. “We’ll fish, but none of this lake.”

“Why?” she asks, “Is something wrong with this one?” Astrid scowls. Does she really have to go further with him alone? Does she? Go with a man she recently met with? Is she overreacting? Valthjof is meant to shelter Cami and her from any harm, yes. ‘Give a chance to someone and let them prove it wrong’ she goes with that philosophy. She has to trust him. However, the bounce of his sword attached to his hip and his absurd height squirms her, and reminds her how easily he can tear her apart if he wishes, shove the flat side of his blade against her throat and forces himself into her. What if the Council lied about him? He’s a retired warrior, and a brave warrior dies with honor and blood spewing out of their mouth in battled field instead of retiring in cowardice. Why would they send a coward? Why would they risk foolishly? A war would inevitably unleash, and Brynhild it's terribly vulnerable nowadays, fuck, that’s strategy; the berkians’d win over them and conquer her home converting all the inhabitants into thralls.

“Trust issues?” He guesses.

“I barely know you.”

Valthjof seems to understand at her words. Scratching his nape, he says softly through thin lips; “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“So much for an assurance.” She bites back.

“What do you want, child?”

“I’ll query you if you don’t mind,” Astrid replies severe, “While you lead us.”

He nods, and stretches his palm at top of his chest. “I’ll answer truthfully.”

The girl, shivering and in bad fumes, balled a portion of her dress in fists and stepped before him.

He holds his hand up, “Wait. I’ll give you my boots.”

“What? No.”

“Yes, don’t worry. I’m wearing wool socks.”

He unties the cords stained with dirt and handed the shoes at Astrid, she puts them timid and thanking him.

He makes a noise of approve, adjacent clearing his throat; “Be concise with the questions, without subdue your curiosity. You may begin.”

Astrid mutedly agreed with his terms, and whilst wrapping her arms around herself, she thought of the hundreds of questions buzzing in her mind.

“Uh, ok.” She bits her bottom lip. “What happened in the ship after I jumped?”

“Your sister made it anchor there and then.”

“You’re the only one who got down?”

He nods.

“Where are we? Why’re there lots of lochs?”

Valthjof fixed at her with something near as astonishment glinting within his sunken eyes.

“I don’t know. I’m asking you precisely for that.”

“Pardon.”

“You’re not first.” Astrid mutters and its tone is like it left a resentful taste.

She shrugs after sighting his almost puzzled semblance, “You’d be surprised how much wedge there has been in my education and Cami’s”

“Oh”

“It’s understandable. She has to read, and memorized, and learn everything.”

“And you?” Valthjof asks as he unshed his sword and nicked a web of bushes.

“And I’m there.” She grimaces inwardly —the untreated gashes of her feet; she felt them bleeding, if they don’t watch it they’ll get infected.

“You ok?”

“Yes.” The girl lies. “You were telling me…” she trails off.

“Waterlands.”

Her brows rose unimpressive. Whoever thought they were being creative naming isles would be scandalized with Astrid’s disappointment. “Logical.” She ends up replying, awkwardness bubbling up.

There’s a pause while they pass a streamlet.

“You didn’t false your age and name, did you?"

His jaw sets, “I needn’t spread misinformation.”

Astrid learns first thing about this mysterious man; he’s an awful liar. But that leads her towards the next question; “You said you were once a warrior.” she pulls it out, accommodating it for her consequent shot, “At least, I think Berk wouldn’t chose a wimp who fled from battles to protect his heir’s future wife. I’m pretty sure they would have disowned you. Is there anything you’re not being truthful about? Because I sense you’re hiding it.”

Valthjof’s eyes hardened on her as his nostrils flared, she had visibly upset him and it showed. Poor Astrid had to fight against a flinch that threated to strike her entire body from head to toes. Oh, she’s overstepping, she should apologize for such indecency—

“I prefer you naïve than witty sleuth.” He quips.

Offended, she glares him, “And I will prefer you to tell the whole truth.”

“You have quite a character hidden within you.” he paused, and then inhaled profoundly, tired, “I wasn’t neither conceived nor brought out of my mother’s uterus in Berk.”

“W-what?” she stutters.

“I met with the Archipelago when I was a boy your age, teen and doltish. Recently escaped from home, and dragging sweet childlike dreams of being a warrior behind me.”

“What you were before that?”

“Bastard-son of a roman soldier. My mother a harlot, my father a man who couldn’t be denied.”

“Why did you ran off your home?”

“Mother found great enjoyment in flagellated me with a scourge. I stabbed her in the leg and left her bleeding, then I shielded under the protection of a tradesman.”

She swallows hardly, like there was a big lump stuck midway of her throat. “And that’s how you befriended with Berk, by the trips.”

He nods, “I combated alongside them for many years, and even defended the father of his current Chief and himself. They weight a lot of trust on my shoulders, and vice versa.”

“And now you’re retired.”

“Not by choice.” he tsks, “They begged me.”

Astrid frowns.

“I “retired” two years ago to go back to that life of merchant and rest how’s appropriate.”

“And… did you wanted?”

He laughs loudly, “I confess I grew fond with the Viking Way.”

She licks her lips before reminding boldly; “But you still lied and said you were from Berk.”

“Yes, that’s a cover, child.”

“I-“

“Your culture embraced me and I embraced them.” Valthjof heckles, “You may not know due it your village is the furthest and separated, but inside the Archipelago; Berk is the wealthiest, more respected village in that packet of savagery, brat heirs and ruthless Chiefs. And the most secretive, there’re only a few things they let go out of their cliffs.”

Astrid slowly processes the news, and ultimately gives the conclusion, “So they took you under their wing, so people wouldn’t despise you once they made you step off from the violence.”

“You are clever. Yes, I present myself from Berk, and so people don’t look at me twice. If people knew it; bastard and non-Viking.” he chortles.

“A matter of reputation.” Astrid deduces.

“Aye.”

The man fidgets with a layer of leather of his waist pulling out a small canteen. He opens up the lid with his index and brought the nozzle to his lip, but before it could touch it he halted and looked at her sideways, “Thirsty?”

“Can you tell me more of Berk?”

Valthjof took a quick swig of whatever was the content but didn’t respond.

///

THUNK!

The whetted steel sunk with a sickly snap through flesh and spines and onto the trunk. Valthjof whirled his wrist as he pressed his fingertips in the slick skin of the freshly, butchered fish; he slid his long fingers in the slit letting drain blood and all its reeked fluids.

Astrid, who’d sat meters away witnessing the disembowelment— couldn’t stopped herself of wrinkle her little nose at the sight.

“If it bothers you so much, why you sat there?” he asked it whilst cleaning up the blade with a ragged cloth. “Take a sit over there.” the rough man jerks his thumb behind him.

She peers where he pointed; another mucky boulder, “No. I wanted here.”

“Then you've to stop with the grimacing,” he spits his phlegm, “You’ll face worst things.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs, “Your wedding night, when your husband’ll spread you open and fucks you.”

The girl stares wide eyed at him, baffled. And in expect of a rapid apologize.

“You didn’t like that, did you?”

No she didn’t like it, she loathed it. Hurt and despair washed on her. The words felt near a welt striking her existence with a mammoth accurateness; as soon they arrive in Berk, she’ll be introduced, wedded, and taken on knees and palms.

“You deserve better than a honeyed fable,” Valthjof says after a moment, inserting the blade around the ventral fin again, the fish’s hacked head finally fell on the ground with a muffled sound as its protruded eyes connect with Astrid’s. “Don’t fret, child. Though be prepared, I heard the consummation'll hurt to you first time.”

“He’s… Is he— the way you described it,” her tongue glide over her lips, anxiously and nervous, “His demeanor—”

He scowls, “Berk’s heir is many things. I will not spoke of him nor Berk.”

Astrid shook her head, blonde strands swinging, “No.” the girl surveys the clear before her, “You won’t,” she stood, “But you’ve to, please. I’m their bride. I’m part of that trade.” softly pleads.

“You’ll meet them when you’re there.” his only answer before twirling the torsk once more and smoothing his hand over its last ripped scales, “And don’t usher that childish argument of “because I have the right”.” warns.

His butcher knife was gone after he’d laid it briefly on the trunk, but no for so long before it pointy, menacing end was thrust with force on the wood by delicate, trembling fingers gripping tightly the haft, sneering; the girl says; “Is in my right.”

The bulky man impassively contemplates her, “You threated me or asserted your words?”

Astrid doesn’t want a quarrel with Valthjof; he’s been nothing but polite and unfeigned to her. And admittedly, he lets her disadvantaged in many, many things. But to refuse the slightest details of the northern isle preoccupied her.

“I’m begging you. Please. I departed my homeland to save it, because Berk promised us offerings, plenty of supplies; livestock, nourishment, furs, meat, coin. And weapons too. Valthjof, please, I can’t go ignorant to a country that’s helping us. My country is perishing, my people are vulnerable, and we burnt every night since three months ago by the fire-breath of dragons.”

“Then why’d you tried to escape?”

She froze, “What?”

“We’re here; you pleading, and I’m making our dagveror, because of you, we stand in this soil because you jumped. You’re trying to convince me with a speech even after you had run off. Where do your words fall?

He hadn’t touched her, and yet it felt like he slapped her.

“I’ll not speak of Berk. Now, help with the bonfire, child.”

Having taken the initiative rapidly; Astrid searched after dry branches and flat rocks and made a neat heap of dead leafs meanwhile Valthjof finished slicing the fish in parts and lighting said bonfire. Together and summoned in their thoughts pierced the flesh’s chunks in the surplus branches bracketed by nature noises.

“You mentioned dragons,” commented Valthjof after spitting spines that’d mired in his teeth.

They were half-eating, sitting near the heat source, he had insisted on going anywhere but the dirt, but she declined and had said that there was no salvation for her dress anyway, even then; it was a pity that the hem of the fabric had turned from a rich scarlet to a dark brown.

“I did mention them.”

“They’re the causing of yours devastation I heard.”

“Yes,” she swallows, “They have been raiding us since Mörsugur.”

“You know why?”

“Of course I don’t know. We actually don’t understand. After six years of peace… we foolishly thought the beasts were gone.”

“No guilt on that. I imagine your village suffered all those years.”

She nods.

There’s another wave of tranquil and definitely more comfortableness, before Valthjof cleared his throat, “I recall a vivid moment when I was seven, when one of my mother’s colleagues told me that dragons have their own place, not a nest nor an island, more like a… world. A world never visited by mankind.”

She frowned skeptical, “And— and you believed her?”

“I was young. I would have assumed the existence of a margýgr if someone would told me,” he chuckles contagiously with Astrid too, “She said a drunken sailor told it at her when he finished with her, adding he had seen it. And if hadn’t been for the thick fog, he could have it visualized finely.”

Astrid smirked, not quite capable of picturing a small Valthjof awed-struck. Amusement quickly dissipated; she asked frowning, “Where supposedly would be this world?”

“Located at the edge of ours,” he says dryly.

“I wish these beasts fell and died at the edge of the world.” responds scathingly.

He snorts.

“Funny? The pests are separating and ending families, and I’m sure we’re not the only village target it of their assaults—”

"No, it’s not funny. I’m aware of how bloody and destructive their onslaughts are."

“You ever saw dragons, right?”

“Many times.”

“You had ever slay them?”

“Many times.”

She scrutinized him in the mere second restful of such ruffled talk, she kept studying him though; mindful of his sudden strain in movements, as if he was being careful in his body language, and also of the delivers of his replies. She commented nothing about it. They barely exchange glances, and just gathered their stuff and started the road back to the shore.

“Don’t expect me of me not to scold you. You were incredible irresponsible, you could have killed yourself from the height you leaped. Astrid, I love you so much, but for your stupidest you will be locked in your chamber, you will be washed and dressed inside with the assist of Hrefna, and feed by the hand of Póra. Learn the consequences of your actions,” had coldly said Cami when she met with her.

Despite following Cami’s dire instructions of Astrid not being allowed in leave her room for the six days of the voyage —Even if against her will—. Both held the knowledge of how much they cared for the one and the other. Regardless of how much Astrid wanted to wrench her sister’s frigid and despotic attitude with less courteous words, Cami’s severity displayed on her straightforwardness can’t be blamed at all. She’s been assigned an obligation; she’s acting based on what superior authority had edict her to do, whether they like it or not.

///

Purple smeared over the sky in its dawn whilst it transited into the greyish classic of the early mornings. Long, golden tresses weren’t resting in the pillow anymore, with the gown ridden up by her thighs and bent in the hip; she probed the gashes through the whitish bandages with the little aid of frail sunrays and candlelight. Though attended, the keen pangs of her feet injuries had almost made her rue her escapade.

Howbeit it turned into a blunder, and had bothersome her sister further; not only it had irked them, it had shifted the date of the arriving to late evening of Laugardagur, and not Frjádagr as had been scheduled.

That time has shortened, and now in only some hours they’ll reach the northern isle, they pictured it in quite the calm ambiance, that was until disagreeable news came.

It was during a second where Astrid was pondering if whether relief herself in the solitude of her gelid chamber, when a turmoil blasted and roared outside the door, followed by unintelligible mutters and indecorous swears. Hrefna kicked her way in and —with an apologetic smile, and a hurried “Good day”, hastened her in a linen bluish dress, another of those romans garments Brynhild had stolen. If she hadn’t chided her, the woman would have forgotten to even wipe her face with a cloth soaked in clean water.

“I’ll not be cleansed?” Hrefna flickered down at her, confused by the unmistakable tone of disappointment from the girl. It wasn’t the cleaning that Astrid has been complaining for days, of course not, it was the action of being bathed like she couldn’t do it by herself and the goddamned prayers, and that the servant lefts her skin chafed and reddened after the end of every bath.

“No. Later.”

Cozy in a thick fur she went out to the wide deck of the fleet, in time to watch her sister’s plain indignation expressed in her knitted brows, Valthjof seemed explaining of some stuff at her feet distanced.

She stalked towards them, eventually picking up their en going discussion.

“No,” her sister solidly interjected. “We are not gonna get down this ship,” her scowl deepened as she spats, tugging her own fluffy fur, concealing her flimsy arm-freckles and that crimson dot birthmark aloft the curve of her right shoulder.

“It is required,” he insisted.

“And they can shove up their pretty requirements wherever they choose to like,” her sister stretches her arm at her, quickly holding hands, “I’ll repeat it; no one is getting down this thing.”

Astrid’s blonde head tilts, fixing her blue eyes at Valthjof, “Are we‘ll get down?”

“He says so, a berkian boat will pick us,” responds her sister in a latent enraging.

Her face hardens, and in such coldness —that Astrid has never heard her use ever, voiced her realization, “Because they have insolated themselves,” she juts her chin out, attempting to level her short height with his’ massiveness.

He crosses arms under his chest, “It’s a measurement of protection.”

“Nonsenses,” she shrieks, “This secretiveness, this self-marginalization is not sane!”

Valthjof exhales resigned, chest significantly deflating at the clear remorseful for his subsequent words, “You wanted me to prattle about Berk, I denied it, but now it may be your only soothing,” he stroked his eyelids distressed, as if he’s battling an argument with himself. When he straight his back and swiped his tongue over his lips, he seems he lost it; “You two are heading to a tribe with starkly differences with yours, inhabited by people as sturdy as their soil. People who wears leather on their waists and clad-armor upon their shoulders, not linen but wool, not soft but harsh, bloodlust warriors at the best and when it comes to defend Berk,” he then sets eyes on Astrid, “And you’re the fortunate to stay there; to live, to eat, to piss and shit, to breath among them, fucking too and breeding the next heir. Better adapt quickly.”

Astrid stiffens at the last mention, “Not a baby-oven,” she snarls baring her teeth.

He looms over her, squinting at her lithe presence, “Then prove them otherwise.”

“They’re here!” shouted someone.

"Pack your things and get in that boat," he rushes them.

“N-no,” Cami stutters.

"Here," he mutters, withdrawing two daggers from the sheaths at his sides, "You know the basis, how it works; you swing and cut."

Disbelieving; the girls took each knife, “We don’t know how to fight,” cleared Cami.

“Aye,” he resumed his short lecture ignoring her protests, “Twice at the neck if necessary; stabbing or slitting,” making a demonstration by circling his own neck with the thumb.

That’s the last they saw of Valthjof of Berk; a ghost of a smile dancing on his thin lips and his right hand gripping his sword’s hilt, the ever proof he existed heaving in his former blades now dangling in the girls’ fingers.

At the boat two brawny men plucked their stuff away from Hrefna and Póra, barely making eye contact with them, and had already begun to unroll the flag. The older with the red tuft stared contently at Astrid.

He took a pace forward, she took one back.

It’d made him roll his eyes. “We won’t harm you, we’ll not touch you. You are our heir’s bride,” he brushes off snot of his nose, and continues hauling the khaki rope whilst surveying her sister, “and I have understood you’re the heir of your little village.” With a final tug, the rope strained and the flag sprawls with a gentle flap, “If I want to fuck, I go with a whore, not squealing high-born girls.”

Needless to mention neither couple exchanged words with the counterpart, if not urgently needed. And though the last path of their sailing went tensed after the offense and mere insult, it notably carried acute expectation, suspense and heightened fearfulness. And had hit Astrid disastrously, basked in Cami’s bony arms and wailing helplessly after having realize how it was actually happening, she resented and had scold herself for her weakness, but the moment had simply surpassed her; the cruelness of the Council in subtlety selling her, yes; there’s a grand reason lurking behind it, but the cost to get rid of her and bare her of decisions and a possibility for a distinct fate?

Albeit shrouded in a fog and a night as dark as coal upon them, Berk starts clearing up at quite a decent distance.

Nearby the coast were stood two large, too burly and broad figures and one remarkably skinny. When the blurs lessens, his appearances slowly reveals, the lanky had a mop of auburn hair at top a head comically too big for his body.

And she sees green, green eyes glinting in the torchlight.

Green eyes that stride away from the shore and gaits towards her new home.

#my writing #ISOBEL #httyd fanfic #httyd fanfiction #httyd au #hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfic #arranged marriage au #au

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thebigladjake · 4 years ago

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AX3001: Oddyssey - TV Show Research and Development: Giygas and the Intrigue of having an unexplainable villain

When it came to making a TV Show, I always had an idea for an Earthbound spiritual successor since 2018 and over this last Summer when we were briefed to make three TV Shows. I had to really think about what ideas I wanted to do. However, during my downtime, I suddenly remembered one specific thing about my Earthbound experience...

Giygas

The Embodiment of Evil, the Universal Cosmic Destroyer or the Almighty Idiot according to who you ask, Giygas is the main antagonist of Earthbound and appropriately serves as the game’s final boss before your adventure comes to a close. Granted, him being the very last thing you fight leads to you leaving with that boss fresh on your mind. But, I hadn’t played Earthbound for a few years... And Giygas just suddenly popped into my head. And a lot of the questions were “Why is he like this? This cute and friendly game has a boss that looks like a nightmare?” I was absolutely fascinated by this boss and it led to my second playthrough of the game.

Onett, the start of the Adventure

This is the hometown of our main character, Ness and effectively our window into the world of this game. We see the town he lives in, it’s so bright and colourful with all the town essentials! A burger shop, a town hall, an arcade, hospital, police station and library, it’s familiar to us as our hometowns most likely have similar locations. The vibrant colours of all the buildings is eye-catching and welcoming!

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The music is also worth noting as it’s very peppy and upbeat, it feels like the theme of a small town with a nice community. Most of the music follows this formula.

Most of the towns in the game follow this design and it does feel like you’re exploring more and more of the world, like you’ve ventured further than you have ever gone before and you’re not going to stop because this world is so interesting and welcoming!

Some towns deviate from the formula, but the good people in the towns help to established the same welcoming energy that we’re used to.

Now, let’s take a look at the final map before Giygas’ lair...

The Cave of the Past, the end of the Adventure

Complete contrast to what has been established this entire game. There are absolutely no colours, there are no buildings, no operations of Giygas’ in the background. It’s just a path to the end of the journey and it’s so simple... But, it’s super effective! The lack of colour helps to make it feel otherworldly, makes it feel alien to the world that you’re used to and that’s exactly what Giygas is, he’s not from the world.

Even our main cast of heroes could not be transported back in time without being transferred into robot bodies, all of their colour is gone too. All except Ness’ hat, showing a small bit of colour almost as if it’s that one bit of hope of beating Giygas.

At the end of games, usually going to the final boss’ lair will be some huge event where you see all of their plans, what they’ve built over time and will be accompanied by some epic score. Earthbound does things differently.

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Just give that a listen, it’s a eerie, droning piece that doesn’t sound like a great confrontation theme. It sounds like ambience more than a score to me and I think that makes it scarier, like you are in the positions of the kids who are probably incredibly scared of what they are going to have to face once inside that cave. It’s so incredible and it’s a sample of the Beach Boys song, ‘Deirdre’.

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It’s the opening note and I find it amazing how a single sample can do so much! There is another Earthbound track that I will link here which features a sample of the trumpet in the intro of the Beatles song, ‘All you need is Love’ and again, it sets up so much with just a tiny little sample.

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This is used just before going to the Cave of the Past, instead being the Cave of the Present. It’s technically just two notes with a reverb, but the sample adds so much and it just feels uncomfortable. However, we don’t need to talk about this for long, let’s go right to Giygas’ lair!

Giygas Lair, the true contrast to Earthbound’s style!

I apologise for the size of the image, but it’s pretty much a straight path but LOOK AT THIS! A trail of organs and entrails twisting and turning through this dark void until you find this uncanny monstrosity of a machine made of the same organic material you were walking on. This. This is what made me come back, it’s such a disturbing idea.

This is open to interpretation, but the way caves are represented in Earthbound is to only make sprites of the ground and walls. All the stuff you can’t see is black, just like how a cave should be. Giygas’ lair has this same motif, but there doesn’t really appear to be any walls around. So depending on your view, they’re either walking through a tunnel or entrails or walking through the void as previously stated. Personally, I think both are terrifically terrifying but I definitely see the void more.

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The organs pulse as you walk up them, the only noise complimenting the atmosphere is the clanking of robo-feet and the breathing of Giygas which is what I feel gives it the whole void feeling. It’s so unnerving that this is the final confrontation, but the fact that it is actually puts us in Ness and his friends shoes.

Getting to the Machine causes everything to stop, the ambience vanishes. Giygas’ intro music plays as the Machine changes to show the robots a picture of Ness’ face. Ness was prophesied to be the one who brings down Giygas and the first thing we see from the Machine is Ness, already suggesting to us that Giygas knows that we’re here...

Pokey, Ness’ childhood friend and eventual enemy over the course of the game, descends in a Spider Mech and just like that the Final Battle is about to begin!

The Final Fight

Of course, the final boss begins with Pokey standing before you with Giygas’ number one thought right now... Ness is here and he’s come to defeat me. This is a pretty standard affair for a boss, only Pokey can be harmed and he is much more a threat in this Spider Mech than he was previously in battle.

Giygas has a shield that is impervious to any kind of physical or psychic attacks and cannot be destroyed or disabled. He attacks using the special power that only Ness knows ‘PSI Rockin’’. His shield will always reflect your shots back at the character who attacks him and even when they have shield themselves, they will get hit regardless. The Machine is what keeps Giygas stable and alive, making him completely invincible...

However... He has one big idiot on his side...

Pokey can be damaged and the strategy of the fight is to focus on him and avoid any attacks that hit the both of them. Pokey, like the main cast, is a kid and he’s incredibly immature. So as soon as his mech is defeated, he taunts the main gang and turns off the Devil’s Machine... The one thing preventing Giygas’ defeat...

Giygas Released

Once released, Pokey explains that Giygas isn’t even himself anymore. He became so powerful that his body was destroyed and had to be contained into a machine in order to maintain some sort of grasp on his thoughts. Without that machine, the four heroes are taken into a dimension of Giygas’ thoughts and since we play as Ness we hear his thoughts directed towards us the player.

He reaches out with such thoughts as repeating Ness’ (The player’s) name, saying “I feel... Sad.” or “It feels good.” and added upon these thoughts Giygas’ attacks cannot be comprehended by our characters. It really helps to add a sense of hopelessness because we have no idea what is truly going on and we can’t fight what we don’t know.

An Unconventional Resolution

Attacks don’t work, defending won’t work either, you can’t heal or save yourself. All hopes seem lost until you notice a certain act that Paula can do. Pray.

When Paula prays, she reaches out to the world she left behind and the folks that are waiting for their return get the feeling that something bad is happening. So, they too pray from the bottom of their hearts...

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=320&end=374

If you watch the small clip above, once he feels the support from the Earth. The sound cue to signify that Giygas has been damaged and that Giygas is not okay.

Onward to his next form.

Now I would like you to take a close look at this image, I’ve asked a few people about this and sometimes they get it without me saying anything and others don’t. So, just take a moment to find an image amongst the Giygas’.

Got it or have you given up? In the realm of Giygas, here in the black void is a pretty damn distinct shape of a baby. And this is what fascinated me about Giygas, there is a theory that this is symbolism for abortion as you go back in time to kill Giygas but that theory has been disproven by Shigesato Itoi, the game’s creator. There’s evidence that goes against this theory anyway, but this fetus imagery always stuck out to me.

It’s said to be a coincidence that the Super Nintendo generated these sprites and in this pattern. But, it’s such a definite shape of a baby and I find it absolutely mental that it’s just a coincidence. And that curiosity is what brought me back to Earthbound, just this happy go lucky game where you make friends with a little monkey that chews bubblegum, make friends with a man who converts himself into a huge dungeon man and at the very end, you’re faced with this.

It’s not only impactful imagewise, but storywise it’s just as impactful for the opposite reasons. As Giygas can now be damaged by feeling the love and support coming from the friends Ness has made across the world. Each time Giygas is hit, it gets worse, but the moment he really breaks down is when Ness’ Mother wakes up in the middle of the night and rushes downstairs with Ness’ little sister and their dog. They all feel uneasy and begin to pray for the safety of Ness and his friends.

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=702&end=738

This is the moment Giygas truly breaks down, feeling the support of a loving Mother looking out for her son is a feeling he had long since buried. It’s about time I talk about the backstory of Giygas, while it’s not touched upon in Earthbound/Mother 2, in Earthbound Beginnings/Mother we see Giygas as an alien and we learn about how he came to be.

Giygas and Trauma

Giygas was an alien that was raised by Maria and George, a couple that was abducted by the other members of Giygas’ race. Maria adopted Giygas and looked after him while George studied their powers without their approval and eventually escaped with this knowledge, never being seen again. Once Giygas grows up, he was instructed to ensure that no human is capable of using PSI powers and not wanting to betray the people who raised him, he forcefully detached himself from Maria to prepare for the invasion.

Maria was sent back to Earth, but with amnesia and once the Eight Melodies are obtained, she regains her memory and explains that it was a song she used to sing to Giygas when he was young. This is very important.

Giygas’ first attempt to take over the world. He comes down, looking upon the gang and the battle begins. Starting the trend of Mother/Earthbound games having a unusual way of defeating the final boss. This time, the group begins to sing the Eight Melodies which brings up emotions in Giygas that he thought he had long since repressed or even got over. Giygas has a complete mental breakdown and recalls his forces, swearing revenge on the planet and that he will return.

In Earthbound, Giygas has worked on himself and made sure that what brought him down before cannot bring him down again. However, he didn’t do enough since the feeling of a loving Mother reaching out to her son in his time of need still hurts him severely and it’s at this point where Giygas can hardly do anything. His sprite starts contorting, the colours shift and the audio turns into a droning whirring noise.

Ness’ Mothers love is one thing, but it’s not enough. Giygas is wounded, but he is still fighting. Paula keeps praying for one more person and with a few more attempts, that person is you. There’s a moment in the game where the fourth wall is broken and asks you to enter your name. It can even be your full name, my name is pretty long and my name fits into it perfectly. It’s emotionally engaging since it includes you and you feel like in a way you are defeating him rather than Giygas being defeated by the world of the game.

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=838&end=938

After this Giygas loses control, the whirring increases, his sprite distorts further to the point where he is unrecognisable, the visuals cutting in with static occassionally. Static that appears at the very beginning of the game, suggesting the approach of Giygas and showing pictures of the invasion, and at the end of the game it suggest that he’s retreating, he’s getting out of reach and eventually he is gone.

And after all of that craziness, the robots are outside of Giygas’ lair. Everything is quiet, “The War against Giygas is over.”

What was Shigesato Itoi thinking?

Shigesato Itoi drew inspiration from an event of his childhood, where he had walked into the wrong screen at the theatre. He walked in on a murder scene which as a kid he mistook for a rape scene which had such a potent effect on him. He drew inspiration from it for Giygas’ final battle and some of the things Giygas says.

In an interview, Itoi claims that there was a scene where a guy grabbed a woman’s breast which distorted it into a ball shape. He said “It all hit me really hard. It was a direct attack on my brain.” despite the fact that this doesn’t actually happen in the movie, which Itoi admits that his memories are a little fuzzy. It’s probably because it all happened so fast and his child brain may have created false memories or just failed to understand it. Itoi also goes onto say, "this sense of terror having atrocity and eroticism side-by-side, and that’s what Giygas's lines at the end are. During the end, he says, “It hurts,” right? That's... her breast. It’s like, how do I put it, a “living-being” sensation." and the purpose of the scene is to get the player’s mind working.

Another interesting part of this interview is when Itoi talks about typical villains and says this, “Well, you know, having a villain there who simply goes, “Wahahaha!” and the like would clearly be bad. But, actually, when I think about it, having villains go, “Wahahaha!” is a really intriguing pattern. But there’s no point in wondering all by yourself for days on end what it means for a bad guy to go, “Wahahaha!” at the climax of a game, you know? I get the feeling that there aren’t many people in the game industry who would do that sort of thing, though.” Which is something important to consider, Earthbound is such a colourful game bursting with personality, so having it end with just a standard final boss affair probably wouldn’t feel satisfying.

What the Earthbound/Mother series taught me about final confrontations?

Giygas’ character and what it taught me that even “Universal Cosmic Destroyers” can have trauma that they are trying to avoid and bury. It humanises them in a way and it can make the final confrontation that more powerful as it’s a problem we can all relate to. They’re not all evil for the sake of being evil, sometimes they don’t have a choice.

I think this is a good thing to take on board and I have already begun planning on my main antagonist’s motivations on Oddyssey. It might be changed since it’s a sensitive topic for me right now, but these motivations won’t be brought up in Season 1 anyway

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indianamoonshine · 5 years ago

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Kylo x Reader | Grinning Like a Devil

Summary: A song!fic based on “Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift. (I know, I know.) Rating: E Contains: Abstract smut? If that makes sense. Kylo’s flaky but I’m into it.

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night / You know that I caught it

Your quarters were lonely at night.

There was no roommate to keep you company, just the slow whirring of a café machine and the cooling system that growled on occasion.

You toss and turn in bed, the sheets cold and mattress too even. One of your hands runs across the pillows, fantasizing of a body taking its place. You imagined that he’d sleep soundly on his stomach, one arm crooked beneath the pillow where his long, black hair fanned against his face. His absence almost hurt.

Of course, you hadn’t actually had Kylo Ren in your bed before. But he’d ensnared you – no, took you for himself across the room. You’ve found his eyes wandering along your figure while officials discussed strategies with him, hands flexing temptingly in his gloves.

Dreaming about him would do you no good. He hasn’t come to you yet and he never will.

You lift yourself from bed, leaving the sheets in a crumbled mess on the floor, and walk to the window which overlooked the expanse of space.

Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price / You know that I bought it

You’re paralyzed with fear when you hear the blast doors open. Had you not locked it correctly? In the bleakness of your room, your eyes strain to find the outline of a figure coming towards you, its steps heavy against the tile.

There’s a flicker of panic then, your body converting to its fight reaction. You grab the nearest item you can find (a mug from the counter) and chuck it towards the intruder. But the mug stills in the air, floating on its side, and then shatters into a thousand pieces when met with the floor.

When he steps into the light, your legs weaken.

Killing me slow / Out the window / I’m always waiting for you to be waiting alone

He doesn’t make any sudden movements for a few moments, assessing your expression before stepping closer. The space between you is warm and throbbing; it is a sensation you’ll never understand.

Something – like invisible tendrils – lull you closer to him in slight steps, your feet almost dragging behind you. While you wanted him, his presence was overwhelming.

Devils roll the dice / Angels roll their eyes / What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

There were two voices arguing in your head.

One told you to flee from this place – to hide your face from him. The other told you to stay; to feel his lips move across you as though he were worshipping a celestial body. To feel all of his breath, to finally smell him, to trace the puckered scars that decorated his chest like war medals.

He was dangerous.

But fuck it.

He advances towards you, breaking the distance, and, like an animal lunging for its prey (but with a grace unlike any vicious creature), he captures your face between two solid hands.

His lips hover above yours and it’s just close enough to exchange breath with him.

Everything in your body has stopped responding to your brain. You might be clinically dead.

With half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, and shaking limbs (yours), he kisses you with fervor. His lips are plump – ripe, like a fruit – and soft against your mouth. He leads, caressing the curve of your spine, and you let him pull you in so that your hips meet.

And it’s new - the shape of your body /it’s blue – the feeling I got

Your back meets the mattress, your clothes already thrown upon the floor in a fit of passion. You’ve never felt so exposed, but calloused hands stroke the curves of your body and you forget your imperfections and trepidations.

Kylo is still dressed in his underclothing. He parts your legs so that he may kneel between them and reaches for the hem of his shirt. When he exposes his chest, you almost gasp. While it was obvious that Kylo was a large man (even under all that armor) the sight of his sculpted body humbled you into silence.

You sit up and reach for him. His skin is hot and his heart thumps wildly against his rib cage. He allows you to skim your hands against the planes of his stomach. You glance up at him through your lashes and his eyes are like starlight, the richness in color incandescent. These eyes are not sad, they are not angry or austere – they are attentive to your every touch, to every flicker of expression upon your face.

His attentiveness of you was intoxicating.

Touch starved, you want to breath when he pulls you in. I am touch starved.

“I hear you…” he purrs in your neck. “And as was I.”

‘It’s cool’ / That’s what I tell him / ‘No rules in a breakable heaven’

Two cycles later, your hands are shaking from holding back from him.

He stands with arms crossed against his chest, looking out into his empire from the bridge of the Finalizer. His helmet is back, but molded together with liquidized kyber crystal.

It burns red and so does he.

In order to reach your destination, you must walk past him. Unfortunately, there was no way around it (literally) because of a downed power generator blocking the path you’ve always taken. You’d think the First Order would have resolved the opportunity of downed generators, but what did you know?

Kylo – ahem, the Supreme Leader - hasn’t contacted you in days. After your midnight rendezvous, he’d barely looked your way when in passing (with the exception of a slight tilting of his chin). Usually, you’d tell yourself to get over it – he was just a man, not a supernatural being.

But, gods. The way he moved with you that night. How his hands gripped your thighs and squeezed the flesh of your ass. How his teeth had marked the inside of your calf, leaving behind a bruise that looked suspiciously like the nebula outside your window. The delicious soreness you endured after he separated from you, and then disappearing into the night like a phantom.

Had you made it up? You lift up the hem of your skirt (a scratchy, black number of the required uniform) and find a yellowing bruise at the top of your thigh; it’s where he had dug his fingers when he came. You trace the ruptured veins beneath that wound (was wound really the word?) and sighed.

Kylo heard this, even if it was under your breath. He turns his head just slightly, and when he sees you standing meekly behind, angles his feet in your direction. He says your last name and the vocoder gargles his natural baritone. Your stomach drops, expecting the voice that had coaxed moans from your lips only nights before.

“Excuse me, Supreme Leader. I was just on my way out.” You turn for the opposite exit, abandoning the plans you’d had – or at the very least - delaying them.

“You’re not excused,” he says, voice low and foreboding. “Come here.”

The urge to roll you eyes is excruciatingly difficult to ignore, but you manage to shuffle your way to him with head held low. You refused to look at him; whether that be because of humiliation or pride, you couldn’t be sure.

Kylo pinches you chin between two leather fingers before forcing your gaze to meet his. You gulp, a slight wave of nausea threatening to materialize upon the floor. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but it feels like minutes.

“What’s troubling you?”

You almost scoff, but your chin between his thumb and forefinger have diffused all rational thinking.

“You haven’t called on me,” you tell him quietly, aware that anyone within ten feet can hear you.

He tugs slightly and you’re forced to move with him, literally at the mercy of his touch. He hums in false concern.

“You’re desperate.” You can hear the smirk behind his mask. “You need to be touched.”

You shift uncomfortably in his grasp, mortified at his deduction.

“You begged for it too,” you say with courage.

Kylo leans in so close that your breath fogs the plate of his mask. “I don’t beg,” he hisses.

He brings a hand to thread his fingers between the locks of your hair, and pulls to reveal the length of your neck. “You need to learn how to obey the rules…” he wanders off, gloved hand trailing softly down your skin. “No sexual display outside of your quarters.”

You grin a little but it’s sardonic. “I don’t follow rules.”

Kylo wraps the entirety of his hand around your neck and begins to cut off your air supply, fingers pressing tensely against the flesh. You can’t decide if you regret your previous words or enjoy them. But just as you start to feel lightheaded, he releases you.

“I’ll call on you tonight…be prepared,” he croons lasciviously. “You may leave now.”

I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone / And if I bleed you’ll be the last to know

Four planetary months later, you’ve acclimated yourself to the misgivings of which Kylo had riddled you.

The two of you had bedded one another more than you’d ever imagined was physically possible, but not without recoiling into an argument immediately afterwards. Considering all the physical exertion, you’d expected the tension between the two of you would dwindle, but it hadn’t for whatever reason. Four months of fucking should have calmed his spirit, especially considering the energy he exuded while doing so.

You wondered if he ever got bored with you.

These thoughts were distracting. You couldn’t focus on your job properly. Being a technician was no easy feat and it required an abundance of concentration – something of which you currently had none of.

So when the driver you were tooling with slipped between your greasy fingers and sliced your hand open, you shouldn’t have been surprised. You screamed, dropping the instrument (now bloodied) upon the floor and wailed. The cut had been so deep that the meat of your muscles showed.

Fortunately, a fellow mechanic had heard your cries and came running from the opposite hall. Within two minutes, you were being escorted into the medbay, crimson blood spilling from the wound and onto the tile of the floor.

The process of cleaning and tending to the cut was simple and only took a few minutes. They’d taken a bacta bandage and placed it gently over the wound and you felt the tightening of your skin immediately afterwards.

After the medics have nursed you to the best of their abilities, there’s a clamor at the entrance of the bay. You tilt your chin in order to see from your cot, but the curtain is blocking your view.

“Where is she?”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Cot number three, my lord.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. You take it upon yourself to straighten your hair and uniform in haste, your good hand resting gently on your bobbing knee.

The curtain is quickly shoved aside to reveal Kylo, his brooding expression showing the slightest bit of concern, but it flickers away just as quickly as it formed. You want to speak, but he’s glaring down at you like he’s never done before. He seems angry, but at what you weren’t sure.

“Really did a number on myself this time.” You hold up the bandaged hand. “The gauze is pretty itchy but other than that I…”

“What were you thinking?” he asks you.

You blink. “What?”

“You were messing with a saw driver.”

“So?” you snap, glaring at him.

Kylo steps forward and you recoil, back pressing against the pillows until your neck is craned up at him.

“You aren’t authorized to use a saw.” He reaches for a stray hair which dangles between your eyes.

The gesture is intimate, but feels false somehow.

When he brushes the strand away, your mouth turns into a frown. “How do you know I’m not?”

“I checked,” he says, keeping your gaze. His eyes are like stone, but you can’t look away. Somehow, they are beautiful.

Damn him.

“Why?” you ask suddenly.

It’s Kylo’s turn to blink. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you check? Why do you care?”

He chews he inside of his cheek, jaw tensing. Then he takes your hand – the bandaged one – and inspects it thoroughly.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” he mutters setting the hand upon your lap.

“Why do you care?” you repeat through gritted teeth.

Kylo raises a brow, considering this. Maybe he truthfully doesn’t know. Maybe he can’t answer you.

But then he leans in and brushes his mouth against yours – hot, but sweet breath mingling with your own. His dark eyes – the kind that could melt steel – look directly into yours. You go cross eyed.

“Because what good is your hand if it can’t get me off?”

You should’ve slapped him (with your good hand anyway), but your body deceives you when you feel your cunt flutter. Your cheeks blush.

That’s what my mouth is for, you want to say, but you’re cowardly. It’s a good thing the medics have left the room.

I’m drunk in the back of the car / And I’m crying like a baby coming home from the bar / Said ‘I’m fine’ but it wasn’t true / I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

Merida’s ship was luxurious and smelled like roses.

Bottles of expensive cognac and champagne had been popped, glitter from crushed diamonds had been sprinkled upon the floor, and all for no reason other than to party. No birthdates were being celebrated, no holidays being observed; Merida threw parties for the sole purpose of getting lit.

You should’ve outgrown this stage of your life by now, but you’d give yourself some credit; you hadn’t thrown up in quite some time. Merida knew that you’ve been down lately (understatement of the year) but hadn’t known the reason for it. You couldn’t very well tell her that you were fucking the Supreme Leader of the First Order, now could you?

Merida was a leggy blonde, born with male genitalia but she was a woman in all regards other than anatomy. You’d met her as a child – when she was confused about who she was and why she didn’t like podracing like the “other boys” and instead gravitated towards face paint. She was kind – wild as all get out – but kind. Her face was thin, her eyes blue, and they sparkled in the starlight.

She was the first one to introduce you to the night life. She’d taken you to planets like Canto Bight, Corsucant, and even Tatooine in an effort to get wasted. You’ve seen it all: red parlors, cabarets, neon clubs, and even rusted cantinas. Merida had worked for a madam at one point, but she didn’t like to be smothered, so she managed to escape. Needless to say, it didn’t effect her desire to drink every night she could.

When you were drafted into the First Order, Merida had escaped their grip because her parents were politicians on a planet called Baleine (representatives of some kind, but you can’t remember their exact positions). So when you left to work as a technician, she thrived in groups of (drunk) powerful men and women.

It’d been awhile since you’d seen Merida. Due to the First Order’s no-nonsense policy on recreational leave, you didn’t get much time off. Somehow, you’d managed to convince your supervisor to give you two days – just two days of leave. It was miraculous when he complied, but then again, rumors of you and the Supreme Leader had been spreading like wildfire so you imagined he was afraid to deny you.

Had you confirmed or denied these allegations in any way shape or form? No. You kept to yourself and avoided strangers at all cost. You barely ate in the cafeteria anymore, especially after a nosy mechanic drilled you while you attempted finish your stew.

While the party raged on, you sat in the corner and took sips of your drink. You weren’t sure what it was because Merida had ordered it for you from the bar (she’d rented a tender), but you knew its true purpose was to get you drunk rather than cleanse your pallet. You wondered, while watching Merida gyrate on an older gentlemen (more than likely a rich arms dealer), if it was worth it. If any of it was worth it.

If he was worth it.

You wanted to say it wasn’t. You wanted to believe that he didn’t give two shits about your wellbeing, that you were just a fucktoy he used when he needed gratification (which…was often). Kylo Ren didn’t have feelings other than indifference, rage, or arousal. He felt no conviction, no empathy.

Or did he?

You search through your mental catalogue in a desperate attempt to find something – anything – that might convince you that he was truly human. You were shocked to find that there had been.

It was the little things, wasn’t it? The diminutive movements that seemed so trivial when in the moment; like the faint trembling of his hands when they reached for your body, or the way his eyes gathered you whole and then released you when it became too much. It was the subtle blush when you touched his arm, the way his flesh warmed beneath your fingers as you murmured his name. The way he breathlessly said yours in the middle of the night, voice hoarse from pleasure. It was the sweaty palms that clasped yours and then restrained themselves above your head, fingers weaving betwixt one another until finally, finally, you reached release.

It wasn’t sex. It was making love.

You blink, confounded by your epiphany. Suddenly the drink did nothing.

Drunk with liquor and startled by the bombshell, you begin to cry. No – sob. It’s ugly, but aplenty. The tears that drip down your cheeks are warm and salty against your lips, but you take a massive gulp of your drink anyway, desperate to feel nothing.

Please feel nothing.

Merida turns in the midst of the crowd and searches for you as though she has sensed your misery. When she spots you clenching your glass and weeping pathetically over it, she rushes to kneel in front of you, her heels clattering against the linoleum. Behind her, the party rages on.

“What’s the matter?” She touches your thigh.

You can’t tell her. You shouldn’t. But you don’t know what else to do; who else to turn to. And besides, you could trust Merida with your life. She’s had yet to let you down.

“It’s true,” you blubber. You don’t even wipe your face. “It’s all true.”

Merida’s eyes widen. She shakes her head, grabs your hand, and lifts you to stand. You wobble, the shoes beneath your feet suddenly twelve inches tall even though you’re positive you wore kitten heels.

She takes your face between two perfectly manicured hands. “Baby, what do you want?”

You shake your head erratically. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“What do you want?”

You haven’t seen Merida this serious in quite some time. It’s been awhile since something this heavy has happened in your lives and you’re unsure on how to handle it.

But she does. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She knows exactly what she’s asking.

She knows exactly what you’ll say.

“I want him,” you sob. “I want him.”

Merida hums quietly, eyes soft. She reaches to tug a lock of hair behind your ear, just like Kylo had done a couple of days before.

Stop thinking about that. Stop it.

Merida leans her forehead against yours. “Then get him.”

Two hours later, you’re stumbling through the halls of the Finalizer and gripping the paneled walls with every ounce of strength you could muster up. Merida would’ve helped you back to your room, but she wasn’t allowed on the ship without authorization.

You weren’t allowed to be staggering drunk on base either.

While reality was blurred, you were still able to find his quarters. It was a long walk (and it definitely felt like this because of your inebriation) but you finally toppled against the durasteel of his blast doors. A pair of shadow troopers eyed you warily, their helmets raising up to your face and then down at your feet. You notice then that you were missing your shoes.

“Fuck,” you sputter.

The troopers observe you for a moment and then decide it isn’t worth it. They walk away, leaving you to your own devices.

Kylo had given you a code to unlock the doors, but you can’t remember it now; not with everything so distorted. You recall something about a two or three, but in which order you can’t be sure. So you decide to knock.

Okay, not knock. You slam your hands against the doors like a child, pounding on them with your fists. It barely makes any noise, but you assume he’d hear it because of the Force or whatever. You weren’t sure how it worked, but you’ve noticed that his senses were very keen.

You consider yelling his name for a moment, but then the doors slide open with a hiss. You tumble, arms outstretched to catch yourself, but Kylo has caught you.

He’s in his sleepwear; nothing but a pair of black trousers that look soft and warm. His chest is bare and the sight of his pecs make all the blood in your body pool at your feet.

He says your name, voice stern. “Are you intoxicated?”

You shake your head “no” and then sniff away a tear. “Yes,” you say, voice trembling.

Kylo gawks. It looks as though he’s never seen a drunk person in his life, but you happen to know that’s not true; Han Solo was a notorious drinker.

“Come here,” he mutters, pulling you by the arm and into his refresher.

It’s a large bathroom with a shower half the size of your quarters, but he was an important man and you supposed he needed a shower to reflect that. There’s a counter made of black granite and he lifts you upon it.

“Steady yourself on your hands. Behind you.” When you raise a brow, confused by his simple directions, he sighs and does it for you. “I’ll be right back.”

You shrug like you couldn’t possibly care less if he did or not, but you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t and he knows that. The truth comes out when one is drunk off their ass, and that you surely were.

Kylo comes back with a mug of café. You didn’t realize he had his own machine. You can’t imagine him drinking it.

You start for the mug, but he pulls back. “You’re going to spill it everywhere.”

“I’m not,” you grouse.

He brings the mug to your lips, tilting your chin back just slightly. “If you spill this on yourself, you’ll burn. And I don’t feel like dealing with that right now.”

You take a sip. It’s not too hot, but it’s enough to shock you slightly out of your disorientation. “Ouch,” you grumble.

He doesn’t apologize. He sets the mug beside you but out of arm’s reach so you don’t knock it over.

Kylo places his arms on either side of you to steady himself. “Why are you here?” he demands.

“Because I’m mad at you.” It comes out too mousy to be intimidating. It’s not like you could daunt him anyway.

“You’re mad at me.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes,” you confirm. “I’m mad. At you.”

He leans back, crossing his arms against his chest. “You don’t seem very angry.”

You grumble under your breath, ignoring him. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

“Take off your clothes,” he says suddenly, expression blasé.

You blink. “What?”

“Take off your clothes.”

“…why?”

“Because you need a shower in order to sober up. I’m not going to have this conversation with you while you’re inebriated.” He presses against the keypad next to the shower. It turns on.

“I don’t want to take a shower,” you say petulantly.

Kylo tests the water with his hand. When he finds it’s suitable, he turns to you. “Fine then,” he says seriously. “Don’t take your clothes off.”

“Wha…?” you begin, but soon you’re lifted into the air and thrown against his back. A slight wave of nausea sours your gut and you protest, fists slamming against him. “Put me down!”

“Okay.”

He sets you in the shower, clothes and all, and then shuts the door. You growl at him from behind the glass, eyes rolling before submitting to the warmth of the spray.

Hours later, you wake in his bed.

Sober.

And I scream for whatever it’s worth / ‘I love you. Ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?’

Kylo is asleep on the couch, a blanket flung gracelessly over his chest. It barely covers him; the bantha wooled afghan much too small to warm a man of his stature.

You look upon him with a sense of wonderment, noticing the way he wrinkles his nose in his sleep or how he tosses an arm over his face. You want to touch him, especially now that he looks like a perfectly normal man and not a vicious predator.

Maybe he is both. Maybe that’s what’s so gorgeous about him.

You should leave. This feels too intimate for a one-sided relationship. Also, you were horrified by your behavior from the night before (unfortunately, you had not forgotten about it). Kylo probably expected you were an alcoholic now, or at the very least, an irredeemable asshole who charges into people’s rooms at an ungodly hour and practically spits in their face.

It comes as a shock to you when you find you’re not wearing the clothes you arrived in. While you hadn’t failed to recall telling him that you were angry, you’d forgotten about the shower. You look down at your body and find an oversized undershirt (black) that hangs well below your knees, and a pair of knickers.

The knickers are familiar. It dawns on you that they’re yours. And they’re not just knickers, but lingerie. Black. Lacy. High-waisted. Expensive.

“You left them here one night,” Kylo says suddenly.

You whip your head in his direction. He’s stretching, arms long and limber reaching towards the ceiling. It was so casual. So…human.

“Did I?” you ask, voice soft.

“Yes. They’re clean. I had them washed.” He tosses the blanket aside and stands. “And don’t worry – I wasn’t keeping them for pleasure.”

That thought hadn’t occurred to you.

“I wasn’t thinking that. But now that you mention it…” you tease, feeling a little more confident.

Kylo tries not to smirk, but you can see the slight curl of his lips. He takes a few long strides to reach your bedside (well, his) and then looks upon you with scrutiny.

“Why did you come last night?” he asks, voice rich with suspicion.

“I don’t remember,” you lie.

You don’t know why you do on account that he can read you just as well as he can a book. It was a silly thing to fib, but now that the moment had come, you feel more faint-hearted than you care to admit.

You were too sober for this shit.

“You do,” he counters. “You weren’t that drunk.”

The headache throbbing in your temples says otherwise. “Kylo, really. I…”

He emits a sigh, eyes glazing over the space above your head. He seems disgruntled, but what else was new?

Except the look on his face makes you wonder if he’s disappointed.

“Okay, fine.” You toss your hands in your lap. “I came here to talk.”

He scoffs. “Talk? You couldn’t even walk.”

You shrug. “I guess I didn’t care. I was desperate to see you.”

There’s a flicker of satisfaction that lightens up his eyes like a thunderbolt. He tries to hide it, to turn his face away like a disgruntled child.

“Continue,” he says.

The moment has come. You aren’t prepared; you don’t know how to articulate your thoughts or how to react if he rejects you. You sit in the crumbled sheets in sheer silence for quite some time, breath trembling.

“I…” you falter, lip quivering.

No. You will not allow him to see you cry.

“What?” Kylo says pointedly. “Just say it.”

Does he know? Can he see what you’ve been holding onto for months? Is he able to look into your dampening eyes and see the dreams you’ve had of him caressing you into sleep?

Of course he can.

“I can’t,” you gasp.

You’re shocked to find that he looks disappointed. He takes a deep breath through his nostrils, shoulders squaring in attempt to make him feel composed. The lines framing the sides of his mouth exaggerate when he frowns. He chews the inside of his cheek.

“Can I see?” he asks, softer than before.

You nod wordlessly.

He takes a hand and raises it to your face, his fingers fanning softly against your cheek.

“Will it…” you sniff back a tear. “Will it hurt?”

Kylo looks pained by your question. “No. I won’t let it.”

This relieves you. You close your eyes in anticipation, lips parted slightly and with bated breath.

When it happens, your legs numb. You can’t see anything, but you can feel everything. The grip he has on your cheeks tighten just enough to cause you to whimper, and when he hears the stifled noise from you, softens his touch.

There’s a hazed glow of white that vignettes the darkness behind your eyelids. And just when you’re about to collapse from the energy it takes to let him in, he lets go of you.

You settle yourself limply in his arms, breathing ragged.

Kylo steadies you at arm’s length. “You love me,” he murmurs then.

You nod weakly. “I do.”

Kylo takes you further into his arms and your ear presses against his chest. His heartbeat is inconsistent with his pulse – wild, erratic. When your arms wrap around his torso, his breathing falters too.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He sounds terrified.

You nod against him, tightening your grip on him. “I am. I really am.”

There’s a sheer silence. Nothing but the jagged rhythm of his heart to slice through the muteness of the room.

“You don’t have to say it back,” you whisper in his chest.

He hugs you. Tightly. His mouth is pressed against the crown of your head, his fingers pressing into your waist. They don’t leave bruises this time.

“I want to,” he mumbles into your hair. He runs his nose down the length of your neck; goosebumps trickle down your spine. “I want to so badly.”

“In due time,” you say quietly.

He hums against you and then turns your figure so that you’re on your back. It’s a quick change of position – enough to make your head spin.

“Kylo, what are you -?”

He leans over your body, his raven hair brushing against your eyes. You bring your arms to wrap around his neck as he presses slow, teasing kisses down your breasts.

When Kylo playfully takes the skin of your left hip between his teeth, you yelp. It takes everything in you to suppress the giggles but they bubble out of your mouth against your will.

“Kylo! What are you doing?” you repeat in lighter spirits.

“I’m not very good with words,” he admits. His mouth is hot on your hip. He fingers the lacy hem of your panties. “Let me show you how I feel.”

“About me?”

He nods. “Yes.”

You lick your lips.

He looks up grinning like a devil.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren / reader #kylo / reader #mw1

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