#he immediately began prancing around after his bath

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Behold these embodiments of human suffering having a good sleep

A mimir, if you will

[mochikeiji]

Tranquility Before The Downfall

Request 1: "Congrats on 1k!! U deserve it! Can i req for Gojo? 85, 91, 97" + Request 2: "Hi! For the event can you do fluff with 85. "See this? This is my hand." "Why are you holding mine?" "It's MY hand" with Gojo? Thank you!"

85. "See this? This is my hand." "Why are you holding mine?" "It's MY hand"

91. "I'm gonna go have a long, warm bath" "There room for one more?"

97. "So poetic" "I know, I got it from google"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: suggestive/playful themes, slight manga spoiler (before shibuya arc events), sprinkle of angst and a whole cake of fluff

↬ Word Count: 2.2k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

The temperature was numbing; the soles of your feet came in contrast with the tiled floor, grimacing of how unbearable the weather was becoming. For the past few days the sun has been at it's finest peek, hence in those days the weather was undeniably scorching, forcing you to wear your own summer uniform as a teacher to which Utahime had gifted you last winter. Must you say Gojo had the time of his life feasting his eyes on every revealed skin and prominent curves that the clothes hugged your body so well. It's not like you weren't doing the same when he pranced around only in a fitting tee than his uniform.

But as climate changes so drastically, even the amount of pillows and blankets that you have cocooned yourself into the past hours during the afternoon, the cold was still a hindrance thanks to the hefty storm outside. No amount of thick clothes your boyfriend owned wasn't much help. Hopefully Satoru brought an umbrella with him— never mind, he would've just activated his infinity for this occasion, promising to come home with some miso soup and a few(hopefully) dried sweets like donuts or even cookies. You didn't need a whole tub of ice cream when it's already winter wonderland.

Sighing as sleep was unable to cooperate with your body, you slid the lock screen of your phone open, checking to see the bombarded messages Gojo had sent you while being busy sulking.

"Haha look, I'm standing in the rain."

A picture of him drawing a peace sign was sent not a few minutes ago. If you squint your eyes you can clearly see a few civilians weirded out; clearly judging on why he was standing in the middle of a blustering weather like the fool he was.

"You're not even getting wet."

"You know who else is not wet?"

Rolling your body away for your phone, scoffing slightly at how shameless he still is, goosebumps began to crawl up on your skin from having to emerge from the confines of the sheets. Since Gojo seems to be out longer, it's best to end the day to do some pampering. "I'm gonna go have a long, warm bath." after stretching and yawning out the sloth in you, slipping on the fuzzy slippers that were too silly and childish for you to own thanks to Gojo's suggestion of having matching ones, you've ventured your way to the bathroom. Setting the temperature at the warmest, bearable heat and wait for it to run and fill in the tub. The patters of rain blocking out any sound from the room, it concerns you on how heavy it was pouring. Probably a few leaks will be seen later on.

Capturing the image of the bathtub without a care of how blurry it was since the picture was carelessly taken, you clicked send so that Gojo's spams of messages would stop. Almost immediately he calls you after seeing the image, you'd be wise enough not to leave him on miss call when he's already left seen. 

"Looks like this happy chicken's about to meet up with his wet kitten after leaving him on read."

"Is it because your hands look like a chicken's feet?"

"First of all, rude. Second, cuz a wet pussy never fails to make a cock happy."

"You're terrible as always." you muttered, rubbing away the bubbled laughter that he was trying to humor you— dipping a finger down to test the waters warmth as it's half way full.

"Hilarious, it's so poetic."

"I know, I got it from google."

"And that's why I have never felt so dry in my entire life."

"He—"

Turning off your phone with a small smile on your face, knowing at anytime you'll receive an earful of whines for when he comes home. Times like this it never fails to make you giggle at his charming humor as you stripped yourself off of all Satoru's clothes. Letting your foot soak in a bit— slowly sitting down at the other end, exhaling out a pleased moan when the water engulfs your now relaxed, and flushed body.

Nobara was right about how good it felt to pamper yourself once in a while. Though how does she manage to do this every single day? The hot springs may be a good vacation trip with the kids when every one's free, maybe a feast as well for a time to let loose from the world of rampage. "I'll keep that in mind." you sighed, sliding down to the point the water surfaces above your mouth, blowing softly as bubbles came out to be the only source of entertainment.

Baths was where majority would take the time longer in since it gives this some kind of mood that gets you deep into the deepest thoughts no one has even formed. Recalling about the reports on the last mission after the appearance of Mahito all alone, that fact didn't bother you most than what he said before escaping you and Nanami with slick movements, "Be prepared, jujutsu sorcerer, hopefully we both meet again as you claimed in our earliest battle. Especially you, lady." sinister intentions written all over his features still sent shivers to the bone. What terrified you the most, was how darkened of excitement he looked upon mentioning your boyfriend.

"Tell Gojo Satoru he'll be seeing us real soon."

"You look relaxed. There room for one more?"

In all his glory— drenched in his casual attire that was missing the infamous blindfold or glasses, grinning softly on how dewy you looked in the tub like a child, little doss he know of the conflict playing in your head, "I got cookies by the way~" dangling in his hand was the paper bag he swung. By the sound of it, he must've bought not only one pack.

"But we still haven't had dinner yet." shaking your head to his figure closing in. He knelt down at the side of the tub, flicking a tiny amount of water to the wall just for the fun of it before his fingers danced around your shoulder blade, up to the back of your head feeling his nails graze soothingly on the scalp.

"I know, honey." his voice lowered in a more intimate matter, placing a kiss on the dampened skin of your forehead. Eyes fluttering close, smugly smiling of the opportunity to witness the powerful man kneel before you, humming happily as more feathered kisses were smothered all over your face. Looks like dinner will be late and dessert will remain early as usual. "Mmm, get in here already. You'll catch a cold." tugging at the collar while fumbling with the slippery button.

"Eager today, aren't we, kitten?" a quick zip plays through, carelessly chucking down the article of lingering cologne mixed of rain scented clothing. Somehow his scent always leaves a mark wherever he is, not as strong as most men’s cologne is, not even the expensive kind of brand. Just that masculine smell only he possesses that you'd curl yourself up to just to get a whiff.

Never did his physique fail to impress you. As if the world was in slow motion, shamelessly ogling how his muscles would flex on the tugs of his fitted inner shirt. He looked lanky at first glance, but holy hell did you swallow back like now at the thump of his trousers down on the floor. Don't look down now, you thought. Gojo never does fail to impress you in many ways.

Snapping his fingers close to the bridge of your nose, "Eyes up here, baby. You'll get daddy later." an all too irritating yet charismatic boyish grin plastered on his face, washed away with a flick of your wrist and a volume of water spilling on the floor. "Either you get in, or you sit there and freeze your balls."

Even with your head turned with a huffed out pout, he laughs on the fact how you're still compliant just by watching the subtle shuffling you were doing to make space for him behind. He keeps his mouth shut at least, sighing in content when he settles like a puddle of goo at the risen warm water cleansing him as his arms rests on the sides of the tub, peeking an eye open to your figure laid on his chest looking blankly at the reflection on the water. "You're awfully quiet. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

His jaw resting above your shoulder, dropping sneaky kisses his lips could reach as his arms slithers to your stomach to pull in closer. The rhythm of his breathing distracted your troubles— tranquil like the water that surrounds you, unlike the anxiety hammering in calls for the thunder like the storm outside to ruin your one time of peace. Now wasn't the moment of worrying when you're with the person you treasure more than anything, that's what he'd tell you.

Nimble fingers playing with longer ones, you shake your head with an assuring smile, "It's nothing. I just miss you, Toru." followed by a quick peck on the lips. "We'll talk about this later. I just want to relax with you."

Please.

He remains silent to your answer. Only feeling him nod against your shoulder and brings your hand up to the surface of the water, connecting his lips at the back of it. Two times for good measure. He always knew how to melt away your worries in such simple, unique ways. "See this? This is my hand." he claims as he draws random patterns on the palm with his thumb, looking oh so lovingly at the size difference and how you allow him to do so in showing you this side.

"Why are you holding mine?" humoring his own claim. Rolling his eyes, his free hand pokes deeply onto your side, earning him pained laughter until you pushed his arm away. "It's MY hand." he says as a matter of fact.

"Ask me why."

"Okay, why is it that my hand gives you such intriguing interest, my love?" he shoves you gently at the change of tone of your voice. Snorting at your horrible attempts in joking around with him when it's the same as he does most of the time with you.

"Because it's strong."

Firm and steady was how you'd describe his sentence. The change of atmosphere was so sudden, skipping a beat your heart flips.

"It's always been and will be strong. It always manages to hold the world together." upon mentioning world, he was already staring at you. As if he breached through some of the intrusive barriers of your thoughts. "I love holding this hand because it belongs to the person I would be willing to do anything for."

Behind those crystal, ocean eyes that stared back in wonder to yours was laced of his own concerns. There's never a day a person who shares the same experience as you two did would be stuck in their heads of the possible outcomes these days. Especially now that cases were getting uncanny it tore apart anyone from the inside.

Gojo could only wish you'd trust him more than you could ever. Even when he doesn't bring an umbrella out on a storm, the littlest things troubled you as it involves him.

You could only wish he knew that.

Or both of you knew what was coming.

"I love holding this hand because it belongs to the person I'd always go home to, no matter what the circumstances." 

No words left your mouth other than a quiet, "Thank you." unable to grasp the emotion fully, but it did crash all together forming a huge impact. His way of words never fails to shelter you away in protection. A melody ringing in your ears that'll never be stopped from replaying. "I'll feed you a cookie if you promise to tell me later what's going on."

Snickering underneath your breath, you pinched his cheeks hard to hear a whine escape. Chasing his lips for a chaste, but long kiss. A hand placed at your nape to deepen; when you thought you were the only one who felt desperate, you fail to realize how his actions meant to intention of letting you go. Pulling away, Gojo became stubborn. He doesn't know. He doesn't understand why he's also become desperate when a few minutes ago you were both in good shape. He guesses it's only a matter of time when realization hits hard.

What he does know that ahead of time, he will have to be alone. He'd want you far away from the lurking danger that kept him up on his guard. But he won't tell you that. He doesn't have the heart to cause more fear in you when all he needed right now was for you to have faith in him as you both enter the unknown.

For this moment, he wants to be greedy. He wants you to be as greedy as he is. Nothing mattered— only the closeness of your bodies, the needy kisses and whispers of i love you's and each other's names like a mantra.

And hands that held each other with strong, loving grip.

Until the next day, that grip loosened.

October 31, Gojo Satoru has been sealed.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[mrs-han]

Can I request Jumin coming across MC's letters/diary or something by accident and she's written about a guy and how he's soft and nice and caring etc and he surprisingly finds himself upset because he thinks it's about someone else but it's actually about him and how MC sees him through her eyes (maybe pre-relationship), thank you!

How am I finding these requests now??

RUDE.

~~~

Jumin didn't think anything of it.

At first.

Before you settled into his humble abode, you vehemently insisted on going back to Rika's apartment to fetch something. Jumin insisted that everything you could ever want - could ever need - was at your fingertips. But you refused.

Of course, he didn't want to pressure you - so he had his best driver take you back to the residence.

Jumin expected you to return with a suitcase or a backpack of some sort. Instead, you returned... with a leather journal.

You seemed slightly embarrassed about it, though he couldn't understand why. He felt ecstatic over the presumed fact that you trusted him enough to provide whatever it was you needed.

Even a brand new journal. But it wasn't too important.

"I take it everywhere," you blushed, hiding your pink cheeks behind the brown parchment. "It's like... my most trusted friend."

And, more than you knew, he could understand what you meant. He knew the joys of journaling and the discipline that came with it. 

But you certainly weren't lying. You carried the journal everywhere.

The first night you stayed over, he watched as you sat hunched on the bed, your journal in your lap. He waited for you to fall asleep, but you seemed far too engaged, your head buried deep in your book's pages. The ink pen you had politely asked him for was furiously wagging or making firm strikes.

Curious.

Jumin figured you were drawing - yes, an artist needs to express themselves.

But the next morning, he noticed you scribbling in the journal again. Seated at the kitchen island, you were... giggling and trying to hide your smile behind your fist.

"Good morning," Jumin smiled, his voice directly behind you.

"Jumin!!" You roared, slamming your journal shut. "G-Good morning! Do you want breakfast?! Let me make you breakfast!"

"There's no need... don't you remember me telling you last night that I'd be preparing breakfast?"

"Oh! Ah... haha! Aah... jeez, it is warm in here!"

Jumin stepped toward you. "If you'd like, I can adjust the temp —"

"No!!" You plucked your journal off the kitchen island, hugging it close to your bosom and earning you a befuddled stare from Jumin. "No, I can just... uh... excuse me!"

His eyes watched as you pranced down the hall to the bathroom.

Curious.

You always had the journal on your person. You'd take it with you to the couch, to the drawing-room, to bed - even while you bathed, Jumin noticed how it took an hour or more before he heard the water to the tub ran.

You scribbled more into it as if your life depended on how fast your delicate fingers could move. He had to admit that you were tempting him to purchase a journal for himself. Still, he wasn't artistically inclined, and he knew he'd ultimately end up using the new journal as a planner.

Still... your dedication to the creased leatherback made him... endlessly curious—even a little jealous.

Were you drawing? Writing? Simply scribbling? While he had started opening up to you, he realized you were a bit more hesitant to do so... perhaps you were writing letters to companions, letting them know how crazy he was...?

Or perhaps... you were writing letters to... another man...?

"Jumin?"

"Hm?" Jumin jumped slightly, snatched out of his reverie.

"Sorry," you smiled shyly. "I was thinking about taking up an offer of yours... I'd actually like to see what this building has to offer."

"Ah... that sounds like a splendid idea," Jumin smiled forcibly and reached over, pressing a code from his desk. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to accompany you. I'll have my bodyguards show you around. They should be outside as soon as you open the door."

"Oh," you mumbled, disappointed. "... Well, that's fine! I'll tell you all about my adventures!"

Jumin nodded. Me, or the journal. "I'm already looking forward to your return."

You blushed at his words and smiled goofily. "I'll see you later, then!"

"You will," Jumin beamed as you nervously and quickly left the penthouse. Just as soon as they had gone, his intrusive thoughts popped back into his mind - ideas of there possibly being someone else in your life.

"Wine," he grumbled, standing from his desk and slumping towards the kitchen. He was paranoid; that was a likely possibility. But as magnetic and charismatic as you were, there were undoubtedly several people who wanted to court you as much as he did.

Jumin rubbed the bridge of his nose after pouring and downing a glass of wine, the lack of sleep from watching you every night finally catching up with him. A fifteen-minute nap didn't sound so terrible.

He started to move towards the couch - when he noticed your opened journal on the kitchen island. He immediately averted his eyes and closed it delicately. You weren't far; he could still hand it to you.

Rushing towards the door, Jumin flung it open - and there you stood, your hand raised to knock.

"I forgot my —"

"Journal?" Jumin greeted, handing it to you.

You pressed the leather to your chest. "... Thank you, Jumin."

"I didn't look inside," Jumin frowned.

"I never said you did," you giggled. 

Jumin cleared his throat. "No, I would never invade your privacy. Or anyone's privacy, for that matter. Besides..." he sighed. "I recognize the importance of love letters."

Your brows furrowed. "Love letters? You think I'm... writing love letters?"

"It's a rather bold assumption, isn't it?" Jumin's hands fiddled restlessly with his sleeves. "Perhaps I was too hasty in assuming you would return my affections."

"A... Affections...?"

"This is very unlike me. To make assumptions without any evidence, that is," Jumin spoke, pacing about. "But I've seen you with that journal in your hands, and I've seen your dazzling smile directed at it... I can only assume at this point."

You stared blankly at him. The look in your eye was enough to stun him into silence.

"Jumin... have you considered that I've been writing about you?"

His heart skipped a beat. His face was flushed, he knew that was certain, and he turned away to regain any semblance of control. "Pardon me?"

You opened your journal and, like your favorite book-loving heroine, gently thrust it to Jumin's line of sight. "He is kind, though he doesn't think he is... meek, though he has everything... he keeps watching me, even now..."

Jumin's eyes darted before his curiosity ultimately won. "May I...?"

You moved the journal closer to him. "Is it possible for me to fall for someone so quickly...? He treats me like a queen... no, an empress... no, a goddess! He is always worried when he has so much on his plate... he is often checking up on me. He isn't rushing me into making a decision - whether I want to be in this relationship or not. He even told me the other day that he would wait for me, and I truly believe that he will respect my decision either way... and truthfully... I..."

Jumin's heart hammered in his chest. His eyes scanned the delicacy of your handwriting and... the trembling of your hands. His eyes found the words you failed to read aloud: I want him.

Your voice trembled as you peered at him. "My journal entries nowadays are all about you, Jumin. You've been on my mind since day one... all I've ever been writing about is you." 

They swept through him suddenly, blurring his vision; his emotions ravaged him relentlessly, and his thoughts began to run rampant. You could easily sense his uneasiness, and you immediately felt regret. "I'm sorry if this is too much so suddenly, Jumin -"

You were taken by surprise as Jumin wrapped his arms around you, crushing you against him in a hug. Your journal fell to the ground, but you didn't care to grab it. You could hear his heart thundering in his chest; you could feel his body growing warmer. Closing your eyes, you pressed yourself against Jumin and savored the wave of emotion that seemed to surround both of you. 

[idjitlili]

Hey there, Mr blue sky

Thorin x reader

Summary:Imagine being apart of the company and accidently throwing a dagger only for it hit Thorin.

Word count: 2092

Warnings:swearing.

IT was no lie that you felt immediately attracted to Thorin Oakenshield,when Gandalf had brought you to the prancing pony ,to meet the Dwarven king. However due to your luck ,he was a total jerkface straight away.  You knew your chances finding love was too good to be true ,so you hid those feelings,got on with the quest.

The company seemed to like you,apart from Thorin and partly Dwalin,you didn't expect any of them to like you,due to being a woman. Until Balin had explained to you that darrowdam,were rare ,hence making them overly protective of their woman. Which led them to be over you,you did need it ,you weren't a very skilled fighter.  The only reason Gandalf had forced you into this comapny was because apparently you needed get out of the house ,go on an adventure learn some people skills,this was a once in a life time ooportunity. So you joined ,even if Thorin did not like it.

Anways ,you became friends with Thorin's nephews,Fili and Kili pretty quickly ,and they had even offered to train you,with archery and daggers. ili would train you with daggers one day,then archery with KIli another,as the next day would be hand combat in which they both would do that with you.Over just a week you had gotten considerable better ,apparent. However throwing the daggers was not going well,that leads you to today,Fili had been incouraging you to hit the knot on a piece of fabric ,which was wrapped around the tree.

Unknowningly to you at this point Thorin had went into the forest to go for a wee ,you and Fili were also in the forest training. Throw ,after throw ,you failed to throw the dagger into the tree and for it stick into the wood. Fili had stood next to you,showing you how to do it another time,not willing to let you or him give up in you. "y/n ,just imagine its some you really want to stab,they have really bugged you, like when kili pushed you into that lake fully clothed," you knew exactly who to think of.

Thorin hadn't stopped biting at you,telling you piss home,bloody burden,damsel in distress, useless the list goes on.He really got on your nerves and words hurt ,clearly he didn't care.

He really should have thought of the effect of his words.

With Fili's words of advice ,you had launched the knife ,only for it go straight passed the tree ,landing embedded into something else. YOu had sighed in defeat ,as Fili had patted your back ,only to be interrupted by.

"AHHHH aHHH" you and Fili had looked at each other ,with looks of horror on your faces,you had hit someone..not another tree. You knew that voice..."Thorin?" you had questioned,"Don't you come over here! MY cock is out!" You didn-t listen ,you and Fili had rushed to Thorin who was 20 feet away! ONce you had reached him his cock was away thank god,but he had the dagger embedded into his shoulder. Blood soaking his tunic you had gasped,making him turn to you both with unimpressed look. "DArn y/n ,you couldn't hit a tree,but you managed to hit uncle,woah." you had coughed awkwardly,as Thorin stared daggers into you.

"You told me to think about someone who has really pissed me off I swear the valar heard me ,uh because yeah." you had tried to make a joke ,but you were completely serious,you did not mean for Thorin to get harmed,if anything it was his fault ,don't be a dickhead ,don't get karma.You had looked at Fili ,motioning your head for him to leave ,as Thorin been focusing on the knife in his shoulder,Fili had sent you a smile before leaving back to camp,you had rushed over to THorin.

"I'm so sorry Thorin,I was just trying to learn to defend myself,so that I wouldn't be such a burden to the company! I can barely get the dagger to stick in the bark,but no I fucking fucking get it stick into your shoulder,I never meant for it to-" he had interrupted ,as he pulled the dagger from his arm with ease,before placing his hands on your shoulders,looking deep into your e/c eyes,with his ocean ones.

"Y/n ,I am not dead ,It was an accident,you have no need to worry. However you need to work on your aim." you had slightly smiled at the king,"you really need to get Oin,to check that out ,you are bleeding everywhere." he had chuckled ,leading you back to camp.

He had felt more gulity than you ,he had understood what you said ,about him pissing you off,he didn't realise how you had took it to heart,he just didn't want the death of a young woman on his hands ,knowing this quest will most definitely cause harm. Bruh it just happened,poor Thorin's arm.

Soon enough Thorin was patched up,but then the teasing started ,mostly from Kili.

"Too bad you missed."

Yeah thats what the company heard,but in secret the brothers would tease you ,about your crush for their uncle,not that you would admit its true. On the walk to Rivendell ,in which only Gandalf knew ,they would purposely trip you up,or push you into Thorin.  However it horrible ,as you you pull them down with you ,it was just a mess. But they did catch you eventually ,only to fall down a hill,you got stratched to pieces.

Thorin had been at the front ,so naturally he had helped you up, and since you were beyond annoyed you had told Thorin that his nephews had caused your fall. You knew they would get in trouble,due to having Bilbo along with many of the dwarves as a witness. Thankfully Thorin hadn't gone to harsh on the boys ,but they knew what was done was wrong ,the damsel in distress act wasn't going to work.

Anyways soon you all ended up in Rivendell,your hair was a state ,sticks and muds all through ,due to your fall. Not to mention the hill was at least 80 feet and rocky ,so you were covered in cuts and brusies. You were all fed dinner by Lord Elrond,which you must of scoffed down,you had liked the elves,come on thet fed you food. After that you had been led to your room ,on a tour with the rest of the dwarves ,by Lindir ,the elf that had greeted you all at your arrival. The dwarves had refused rooms ,but you had accepted the offer almost instantly.

Soon as you had went in your room ,you began running a bath,whilst you had tried to brush your hair,you must've been trying for at least half an hour ,because you had stopped the bath ,hair brush stuck in your hair ,as your door knocked loudly. You had pulled the navy silk robe over your slip,tying it before rushing over to the door ,opening it to reveal,the dwarvish king.

"Thorin?" you had whispered after standing in the door way,as he stared at you,well your hair. You were surprised that he had turned up at your room.

"oh..I just came to check on you,that fall was harsh " thats literally all you said,you had opened the door ,to allow him in before shutting it. You had scoffed,"thats an understatement, have you seen what it caused?" you had pointed up to your hair,he had chuckled lightly,making his hair move slightly,shinning in the orange light from the sunset from your window. His hair was god damn sexy.

"would you want to brush it for you?" he had asked ,gently ,as you both stood in the middle of the floor ,not far from the door. You had nodded eagerly ,moving to sit on the edge of the bed facing the wall,so that Thorin could stand behind you. Surprisingly it didn't take him long at all to remove the brush,sticks and leaves ,before brushing gently at your tangled hair. His thick fingers ,gliding down the strands every so often ,making chills travel down your spine.  Soon enough he was down ,you had jumped over the bed hugging him ,only for him to grunt slightly as you knocked his shoulder,yet he had still wrapped his arms around your waist.

You quickly pulled away,when you had realised. "How is your shoulder?" you had questioned gulitily,he had just looked at you with the same scowl."I don't know,I didn't show Oin." he had stated simply,your eyes went wide,mostly in annoyance. "Take your tunic off now!" you had demanded ,raising your voice ,louder than ever ,bro you knew how that sounded,but you didn't want his wound to get infected and he to die from the infection. He had taken the tunic that match the colour of your robe off,in one swift motion,blood gapping down his arm ,and large dagger wound on his shoulder.

You had shoved in down on the bed,before running to the bathroom to get a wet flannel,and to your bag to get your sewing kit. He didn't have a second to protest as you were already on the bed next to his shoulder wiping away the dry and running blood ,how was he even alive? Before Thorin knew it you were stitching him up,like a tear in a pair of trousers. "For a king you are a bloody idiot," you scowled at Thorin ,who just sent you a smirk "yet ,you didn't go to Oin either ,did you?" as you finished the last stitch before wiping away the last of the blood.

"you are not sleeping outside in the cold ,your majesty,even if you are dickhead,you are going to bath,then you are going to sleep in that bed, whilst I bath ,then I will sleep on the other side,okay?" you had sassed ,pulling the king up and pushing him to the bathroom door,before going to sit on the bed and reading.

Finally when you were able bathe,wait you need to know how good Thorin had looked with wet hair,and a towel. Damn the candle light glittered a yellow light on the water driplets on thorin bare muscular chest. His hair curly ,flowing down his back like a cloak. "I snuck passed the company,and brought your clothes." you had pointed to the bag at the end of the bed,hung on the frame. "Thank you,the bath is almost refilled ,you should bath quick ,so you can get a good nights sleep." you had just sent a smile to Thorin,who's eyes softended at the sight of you,before you rushed to get clean.

You had gotten into bed in your large sleeping tunic and short underwear , a far distance from Thorin,who only wore the same. Only to wake laying literally on top of Thorin,who had his arms wrapped tightly around you ,his chin resting on the top of your head. You decided pretending to be asleep would have to do ,in hopes Thorin would just shove you off him,or something ,but what you wasn't expecting was him to kiss the top of your  hair.

In which in response to that you had sat up quickly straddling him,cupping his cheeks ,therefore leaning down to press your lips to his ,before pulling away to see the king blushing and smiling slightly. ONly to be interrupted by multiple knocks,you had mouthed to Thorin 'Hide under the bed.' indeed he did ,before you rushed over to the door ,opening it to see Kili and fili.

"Hey y/n, have you seen-"" don't you hey me so godsake ,you pushed me down the hill,trying to get Thorin to caught me,but guess what? It only caused me to bruise not only my breast ,but my bloody moose ," and with that you shut the door on Thorin's nephews.

Turning back to see Thorin,smirking from the floor.

"Just you wait until they start calling you auntie."

"dont you even."

[jaskierswolf]

The Shape of Love Pt.3/6

Previous

Geralt was riding towards Posada, with Jaskier trotting next to Roach and whinnying constantly. The shifter was carrying his satchel and lute, Roach was carrying everything else including Geralt. It was probably a strange sight to see, a witcher with two horses riding down the path, one fully saddled and the other with just a bag and a lute slung around its long neck.

Geralt sighed at Jaskier’s non stop chatter. He wondered whether the shifter could understand Roach and whether his mare was just as annoyed at Jaskier’s need to fill the silence. “Jaskier!” He snapped.

The chestnut horse galloped around them in a circle and whinnied.

“Shut up.” Geralt muttered and urged Roach on a faster.

They’d been travelling together for two weeks now, ever since Jaskier had effectively chosen Geralt as his companion, not that Geralt had tried very hard to get away. He enjoyed the easy company of animals, even if this particular animal was a little more on the human side of things. He’d still not actually seen Jaskier’s human form. He wasn’t sure why Jaskier was so desperate to hide behind the array of animals he could shift into. He wondered whether it had simply been a while since the bard had allowed himself to shift.

Either way, Geralt had stopped asking whether Jaskier wanted to change back. He trusted the shifter would reveal himself in time.

“Get out of the way, Jaskier.” Geralt grumbled as he hand to steer Roach around the chestnut horse in the middle of the path.

Jaskier didn’t have a chance to answer as an arrow flew past Geralt’s head. “Shit!”

He ducked and drew his sword, scanning around him as he circled around on Roach. Another arrow brushed past his ear, in exactly the same manner. It couldn’t be a coincidence. The archer was missing on purpose. He dismounted Roach and lowered into  a defensive stance.

“What do you want?” He asked, focussing his senses to try and locate the attacker. There was a light crackle of leaves underfoot. He focussed on where the sound had come from. There was faint intake of breath as his eyes met a pair of rich brown ones. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He added.

“Lower your sword and give me one of the horses!” A young girl called from the edge of the path.

She had long golden brown hair, plaited all the way down her back. She was wearing hunting clothes, forest green light armour. There was a scar across the bridge of her nose and her brown eyes were flaring with determination.

She was also aiming at arrow at his head.

Geralt sheathed his sword and raised his hands in surrender. Jaskier whinnied next to him and reared up. “I can’t do that.” Geralt murmured.

“Yes you can, witcher. Don’t underestimate me. I will shoot.” She snarled. “I need a horse. You have two. Now hand one over.”

Geralt shook his head and glanced at Jaskier who was stomping the ground. “I have one horse, and Jaskier.”

“What the fuck is a Jaskier? There are two horses, I can see them! One.” She pointed the arrow at Roach and then moved it to Jaskier. “Two. Two horses. I need one.”

Jaskier whinnied. Roach began to shake her head restlessly.

“Jaskier is not my horse.” Geralt insisted.

“Bullshit!” The archer spat. “I saw you leading them both, but I guess if he isn’t yours then you won’t mind if I take him.”

Geralt felt a dull panic. He couldn’t let her take Jaskier and the shifter seemed reluctant to reveal himself as anything but a normal chestnut horse.

“I’ve always wanted a lute.” The archer smirked and lowered her bow so he could make a lunge for the chestnut horse.

Jaskier reared up, kicking the archer to the ground, before bolting off down the path.

“Jaskier!” Geralt called after him but he was too fast. Even if Geralt mounted Roach immediately and galloped after him he would never catch up. Roach was carrying too much weight in comparison.

He spun round to face the archer. She was sitting up and holding her nose, blood poured from her nostrils and it looked like Jaskier had knocked out a few teeth too. He sighed and pulled a bottle from his bag. It was a healing potion, not one of his witcher brews. He’d bought it from the last market they’d visited. Jaskier had a bad habit of putting himself between Geralt and whatever danger he was facing. He was worried that the shifter would hurt himself so he’d made sure to have some better supplies on hand. It seemed only fair after Jaskier helped to ensure that he was paid correctly, and for some reason a witcher with a pet cat seemed to be less intimidating to tavern owners and merchants. He’d been treated with more care since Jaskier had joined him.

And now the bastard had run off.

He knelt down next to the archer and passed her the potion. “Here.” He grumbled.

She spat blood in his face which he wiped off with a grimace. “Why are you helping me?”

He shrugged. “Jaskier hurt you. Call it compensation.”

“I don’t need your charity.” She growled.

Geralt smirked. “No, just my horse.”

“Fuck you!”

Geralt pressed the potion into her hands and then helped her to her feet. “Take it. What’s your name, archer?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Maria.”

“I’m heading for Posada, Maria, if you are going that way then you can join me.” Geralt offered.

“Why the fuck would you want that?” Maria snarled.

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t force you.”

“I’m going the other way.” She said through gritted teeth. “Without a fucking horse!”

Geralt tilted his head. “You scared Jaskier off, that’s not my fault.”

“Only because you were being a selfish prick.” She tucked her bow onto her back and trudged off down the path, blood still dripping down her face, leaving the potion on the path.

Geralt picked the bottle up and tucked it into his pocket with a shake of his head. “I don’t understand either.” He petted his mare’s neck and then swung up to sit back in the saddle. “Come on, Roach, let’s go.”

Jaskier galloped hard away from Geralt and the bratty archer girl until he was sure he was out of sight then he darted into the trees and shifted into his human form, catching his belongings in his arms. He quickly pulled out a dark blue doublet and got dressed. They hadn’t been far from Posada when the girl had attacked and he’d been running a while. His legs had started to burn before he’d slowed down and he desperately needed a bath. So he was certain that the village wasn’t far away.

He pulled on his boots and slung his lute and satchel over his shoulder. It felt weird to be back on two legs again but at least the crazy archer girl wouldn’t try to steal him away in this form.

Probably.

He had been told he was quite handsome by people of all genders.

He grinned and walked back towards the path. Hopefully it wouldn’t be far to a tavern. He was starving!

Luck was on his side and after about half an hour he spotted the tavern. It was up a sharp incline in the path and across a rickety bridge, standing proudly overlooking vast beautiful forests and mountains. It was stunning. Easily the most picturesque tavern he’d visited in years, if not ever. Posada was the last human settlement before the Dol Blathanna and the Edge of the World, home of the elves, if legends were to be believed.

He managed to haggle for a room and some dinner. He didn’t have any coin of his own. He’d been stuck as an animal for two weeks with no income besides what Geralt had earned on his contracts. He hadn’t needed any coin as an animal. Geralt shared his food and he was able drink from whatever water source Roach found, at nights he’d curled up as a wolf next to Geralt, sometimes on Geralt. As a human he wasn’t so lucky, but at least he could play for his keep.

He was half way through his second set when Geralt slid through the door. He was scowling up a storm and every human in the bar seemed to shirk away from him. Jaskier grinned and spun around with a flirtatious wink at a nearby villager. They scoffed and batted him away but Jaskier didn’t mind. He could just move onto the next person. He kept singing until Geralt had settled in a corner of the bar with a pint of beer.

And oh was he a grumpy bastard.

Jaskier was delighted! He carefully put away his lute, and pranced over to the witcher.

“I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.” He cocked his head and smirked at his sulking witcher.

If looks could kill Jaskier would be a very dead bard. “I’m here to drink alone.” He grumbled.

Geralt hadn’t recognised him!

Jaskier pouted and slipped onto the bench opposite the witcher. “Come now, witcher. We all need a friend.”

Geralt furrowed his brow and downed half of his beer. “Fuck off, bard.”

Jaskier gaped and put his hand to his chest. “Oi! Fuck off, yourself. You wouldn’t treat Mister Fuzzball like this!” He poked Geralt in the arm.

Geralt froze and his hand flew to his medallion. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier grinned. “And there we go. I’m hurt that you couldn’t recognise me!” He pouted dramatically and leant on his arms.

“You’re human?” Geralt asked quietly.

Jaskier tilted his head. “Close enough.”

Geralt stared at him incredulously.

“Geralt?” He put his hand on Geralt’s arm. “Is this ok?”

His thoughts started to race. Was the only reason Geralt had put up with him for so long was because he’d been an animal? He’d been unable to talk for two weeks. What if Geralt hated his talking? He had been told over and over again that he talked too much. Oh gods, and Geralt said he wanted to be alone and now he had a human that was clinging onto him and forcing him to make conversation.

He should leave.

He should turn back into a cat. Geralt liked him when he was cat. Jaskier knew that the witcher enjoyed the sensation of Jaskier’s purring, and most cats only hissed and spat at the witcher.

“I can leave.” He stammered. “I just thought, you’ve been wondering about…” He gestured to himself.

“It’s fine, Jaskier.” Geralt reassured him with a fond smile. “Your eyes are the same.”

“Ah yes. Yes they are. Thank you for noticing. I’m not really sure why, not really sure about any of it if I’m being totally honest. I just woke up one day as a kitten, and I’m always sort of gingery brown with blue eyes. Lila, she was my nurse as a kid, thinks that how my kind are able to tell each other apart in family groups but I’ve never known anyone else like me so fuck that.” Jaskier rattled off, the weeks of not talking finally catching up with him. “Yennefer of Vengerberg, scary sorceress from Aretuza that my parents hired to cure me—”

“Cure you?” Geralt interrupted. “There’s nothing wrong with you?”

“Yeah, well, try telling my dearest parents that. On second thoughts, don’t. It took me long enough to escape.”

“Escape?” Geralt growled.

“I’m, I’m a monster Geralt, the beast the lovely Viscount and his wife wanted to hide from the world.” Jaskier sighed.

Geralt stood up abruptly and thumped the table hard. Beer spilt over the lip of his tankard and the tavern fell silent. “Fuck!” Geralt cursed and closed his eyes. “You’re not a monster.”

Jaskier was taken aback by the ferocity in Geralt’s voice. The witcher had only known him for two weeks but he was so certain, so sure that Jaskier was not what he’d always been told he was. Jaskier reached out for Geralt’s hand and gently pulled him to sit back down.

“Right well, I won’t argue with the monster expert.” Jaskier teased gently.  

Geralt scowled and pulled his medallion from his chest. He handed it to Jaskier with a tilt of his head. Jaskier held the wolf medallion in his hands. As a cat he’d often ended up curling up to it when Geralt let him sleep on his chest. He found the vibrations relaxing as they brushed against his fur.

The medallion was still now in his human hands.

“What’s this got to do with anything?” He asked, tossing his fringe from eyes as he looked back at Geralt.

“It’s silver.” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier frowned and looked back at the medallion. “Which means?” He prompted.

“It doesn’t hurt you.”

Jaskier laughed and tossed the medallion in his hands. “Silver is for monsters. I see.”

Geralt sipped his drink. “It’s not a fair test. Some monsters are kinder than any human.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and stood up. “May I?” He asked holding up the chain.

Geralt nodded, so Jaskier carefully placed the medallion back around his witcher’s neck. He let his fingers linger as he pulled Geralt’s hair through the chain, brushing the back of his neck.

“You know…” He breathed “when you pick me up by the scruff of my neck I am utterly helpless. It’s really not fair.” He trailed his fingers across Geralt’s cheek and then sat back down opposite him on the bench. “I can’t even shift when you do that.”

Geralt scoffed. “Does it work as a human too?”

Jaskier laughed. “Don’t you dare!”

“Hmm.” Geralt smiled into his drink.

“Geralt!” Jaskier whined. “Don’t go all… grumpy witcher on me now!” He waved his hand in front of Geralt’s face. “I haven’t been able to have a proper conversation in weeks!” He pouted.

Geralt tilted his head. “That’s on you, bard.”

“That’s on you, bard.” Jaskier mimicked. “You’re a bit of an asshole aren’t you?”

“I’m the Butcher of Blaviken, haven’t you heard?” Geralt smirked.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pulled Geralt’s drink across the table so he steal some. “Bollocks. You, sir, adopted the first stray cat that paid you any attention!”

“Butcher?” A new voice asked tentatively as a man approached the table, his fingers fiddling with a coin purse.

Geralt glared at Jaskier. Jaskier just took a long gulp of the beer and winked at his friend. Geralt sighed and turned to the man hovering by their table. “Yes?”

“I’ve a job for you.” The man held out the coin purse.

Jaskier zoned out for the rest of the conversation. Geralt was awfully dull when he started talking business. Normally Jaskier would be sat in his lap or by his side, depending on which animal Geralt had at the time, and Geralt would be petting his fur. As a human that wouldn’t really work. So he finished off Geralt’s beer and went to find Roach in the stables, grabbing his lute on the way out. He knew Geralt would come out when he was ready.

Roach, unlike his idiot witcher, recognised him immediately. He couldn’t talk to Roach, not properly, not even in horse form. It wasn’t as if he could translate her words but he did have a better understanding of animals, he always did. He seemed to just… know, and he was able to chatter back at her in a series of whinnies and ear flicks. Again it wasn’t as if he was knowingly speaking horse, it was just instinct. He still thought fluently as if he were a human but his communication as an animal was driven by emotion and instinct. He always thought it was rather similar to how he felt when he was composing music, when he found a melody before the lyrics. It didn’t matter about the rhymes or syllabic pattern, all that mattered was the feelings inside that were screaming to get out.

He patted Roach’s neck and pressed his head against hers. “Hey you, sorry I ran off earlier. Wouldn’t want you to get captured because of me.”

Roach’s snorted and he laughed. “Yes yes. I know. Geralt would have protected us, but it was safer to run. Oh don’t give me that look. I always run when there’s trouble.”

Roach’s ears flicked and she nudged him with her muzzle.

“Well I would if I thought it would help” He grinned and stroke the soft fur of her muzzle. “and this time it did.”

He sighed and settled down on the hay to play his lute whilst he waited, it was the one thing he had sorely missed during his weeks as an animal.

He’d missed the music.

_____

Next

[toomanyfandoms02]

Family Reunion // Luke Alvez x Reader

Blurb request for @hotchocolateandpillowforts but turned into a long one.

Summary - Reader is so tired of her family patronizing her for not having a boyfriend. So she begs her best friend Luke Alvez to fake date her for a day at her family reunion.

Word Count - 2.6k

Prompt - "These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaing about your tie you whine ass."

Luke and I did everything together, this included shopping, like we were doing right now.

"What do you need a dress for anyway? Don't you have enough dresses." Lyke commented, sitting out in the sitting area of the changing rooms.

"I have a family reunion tomorrow, and since we always go to my rich aunts lake house, I have to have something extra nice. I would look dumb if I wore the same dress." My voice bounced back at me in the small fitting room. I cringed at the sound of it.

"Is it like some chardonnay party?" He questioned.

"Is that even a thing?" I stepped out, adjusting the dress in the full size mirror.

"It looks great on you." Luke pointed to the flowery and poofy dress.

"I would agree, if I was going to prom." I sighed. "But alas, my teen days are over." I made a fake swoon, causing him to laugh. "I have one more to try on, and if it doesn't work out, I'm not going." I stated, dramatically walking back into the small space. I began to slip on the last dress.

This dress was a light tan color. It was short and poofed out towards the bottom. Dark blue embroidered flowers bloomed every which way starting at the middle. I waltzed out again, not having to adjust anything on the mirror this time.

"Now *that* one is smokin'." Luke looked me up and down, causing my cheeks to heat up and an undeniable smile to appear on my face. Just as he said that, a younger girl, I would assume a teen, came from the room adjacent to mine.

"You guys are such a cute couple!" She gushed. "I need to find me a man who compliments like you do." She said, pointing to Luke.

"We actually-" we said at the same time.

"We aren't-" We were now pointing at eachother decoded to give in.

"Thank you!" I smiled at her, smoothing the dress down.

"Of course!" She left the area with a few dresses in hand, leaving us alone.

"I don't want to go to this party anyway." I let out a groan, remembering my hardass family.

"Why not? Don't like your family or something?"

"They are always passive aggressively calling me a prude for not having a boyfriend. They think I'm incapable of holding a relationship and constantly patronize me for it. It's complete bullshit!" I threw my hands in the air in frustration. "Now the worst part is, I've been lying and telling my mom that I have a boyfriend for like 2 months now. I figured 'how hard could it be to fund a temporary boyfriend in two months?' Prettt damn hard for me apperantly." I vented, now sitting next to him on the small leather couch.

"How about I help you out. I'll be your fake boyfriend for your little reunion." I looke dup at him with what I could only assume was puppy dog eyes.

"You would do that for me?" I was silently cursing myself for how desperate I was sounding. But I really needed this to be completely honest.

"Yeah of course!" His hand sat between my shoulder blades. "I have one question though. This isn't a dealbreaker, but I really want it."

"Oh no." I chucked.

"Would I be able to bring Roxy? Lately she's been having separation anxiety." This wa absolutely perfect.

"Actually that is probably doable. My whole family brings their dogs to these things. My aunt may be rich and kind of a snob, but *boy* does she love dogs. I'll text her right now." I pulled my phone out, feeling excitement bubble up inside me. Finally, my family will shut the hell up about my relationship life, and it was going ti feel so good.

Even if it was fake.

*Hey Auntie! I'm bringing my boyfriend tomorrow and he wanted to know if he could bring his dog? Shes a well trained German Shepard, Roxy.* I eagerly awaited a reply, surprised to see her immediate text back.

**You're bringing a boyfriend this year! Hell, he could bring an elephant and I wouldn't say no to a boyfriend! Absolutely. Bring 10 dogs!** I could feel her enthusiasm through the phone, she was a very excitable lady.

"Alright, Roxy is all clear for entry. And if you have 9 more dogs on hand, you can bring those too... Apperantly." I shook my head ta my phone. Luke looked at me quizzically and I shook him off too. "Okay first of all, I'm buying this dress." I stood swiftly, gesturing to the beautiful piece of clothing. "Second of all, after we check out, I need to tell you about my family so you don't walk into the line of fire blindly!" I changed from the dress into my regular shirt and pants again. I slung it over my arm and headed back out to Luke.

I paid for my dress, heading out to his car.

"So, first things first, auntie Jess, the womans house we are going to, has been waiting for me to have a boyfriend for quite a while now." He nodded with an amused smile. "My mom can be a little overbearing, but I'm sure she will love you so don't stress. Bring a bathing suit with you just in case my family so graciously suggests that we play a giant game of Marco Polo. I think that's it!"

"I'm honestly excited." He rubbed his hands together mischievously. "What should I wear?"

"Kind of specific, but can you just wear a white button up with rolled sleeves, a blue tie to match my dress. I know you have one. And just some slacks. Don't forget to wear your swim trunks under it though!"

"I dig these specifics. I'm gonna live *completely* up to your fantasy." He winked. I rolled my eyes at the silly man.

"Thanks Luke. You're sure you're okay with acting like my boyfriend? We have to be all lovey, and believable." His hand was placed on my shoulder.

"Of course, anything to get your family off your back. I get it." I'm so thankful for this man.

-

I fluffed my dress at the end, twirling around in the mirror. My hair was tied up in a simple ponytail that continued to bounce as I spun around the room. I didn't bother putting on any makeup because I knew we would be swimming today. I ran down the stairs at the sound of a knock on my door.

The other side showed Luke. He was pulling at his rolled sleeves to perfect them. He came looking just as ai imagined, we were truly going to look like a power couple.

"Alright, let's go." He looped his arm through mine and led us to his car. He opened the passenger door for me once we got there.

"Keep acting like such a gentleman and my moms probably gonna like you more than I do." I snickered as he started the car.

"I'm just playing the part!" He grinned. I turned to the back of the car, petting Roxys head as she panted.

"Are you excited to see other dogs prettt girl!" She made a soft bark in response. I I forward and kissed her snout, then sitting properly and buckling up.

It was a short drive from my house to the lake house, once we got there we sat for a minute.

"I'm a little nervous." Luke confessed, facing me with a concerned look.

"I would comfort you, but I'm nervous too." I patted his arm and exited the vehicle, looking back to see Luke giving me an 'unbelievable' look. My hand pulled open the back door to let Roxy out.

"Roxy come." I pointed to my side. She lightly hopped out and placed herself beside me. As Luke came from the other side of the car, he held his hand out to me. I grabbed it and headed into the house.

"Should we bring Roxy with?" He asked.

"Absolutely."

Right as we came in the door, my auntie saw us.

"Hi sweetie! How are you?" She peered down at our joined hands.

"I'm good. This is Luke." I looked over at him, he was giving a charming smile.

"You must be the man she keeps talling about!" She was practically bouncing with excitement at the mention of me having a boyfriend. She was quick to crouch down to a lower level. "And you must be Roxy!" She was using her typical baby voice. Roxy sat quietly by Luke's side. "You are quite obedient."

"She's a trained military dog." He commented, petting her ears.

"How cool!" Jess stood from her previous position and began walking farther into the house. "Come meet the rest if the family Luke."

We were dragged into the livingrook as he gave me a worried look. Before I could comfort him slightly, we were already standing in front of my family. I started introducing everyone.

"That's my mom, uncle Jeff, my brother Mike, and my cousin Nick. These are the only people I will know here." I laughed, pointing to the large amount of people that were outside. "I will not know anyone outside. So we will be experiencing the same thing." This earned a chuckle from everyone.

"It's nice to finally meet you Luke." My mom came up and hugged him. He accepted and hugged back tightly. Everyone else just sat and waved and I could feel an awkward silence coming on so I interjected.

"Luke and I are gonna head outside with Roxy so she can meet the other dogs." I rushed us out the door and huffed. "I don't know if I can do this." A sigh slipped from my lips.

"What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?" He looked like a sad puppy, one that had just chewed up a pillow.

"No! No, I don't know, I feel bad that you have to lie."

"I really don't mind, I promise hermosa." He used the Spanish word for me a few times. *Beautiful*.

His hand grabbed mine and dragged us into the yard.

"Let's get Roxy to meet some new pups." As we entered the yard, I could see 2 dalmatians, 1 chihuahua, 1 pitbull, 2 Rottweilers , and a Husky. Roxy calmly walked to the other dogs, soon prancing around them. I looked over at Luke to see him pulling at his tie.

"This tie is tight."

"These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaing about your tie you whine ass." I giggled, reaching up and loosening it for him. Time to go into a swarm of people I don't recognize.

-

I guess I was wrong, I *did* recognize some of these people. One of which was my distant great aunt who was a little nosy but meant well. We had all been talking for a few minutes before she dropped a question that Luke and I had not prepared for.

"How did you two meet?" My face paled, I sure as hell was not going to tell her the truth, which was that we met on a crime scene when my college roommate was murdered. I squeezed his hand, signaling that I would answer this. I'm going to have to wing it.

"I was dog sitting actually. When I was taking the girls dog for a walk, I stumbled upon a dog park and she got really excited. She ran straight into Roxy." I pointed to the happy German Shepard who was laying in the grass next to the other dogs. "They tumbled over eachother and I came over to apologize to him, and her."

"I saw her and I thought, 'wow, beautiful and a dog lover? Sounds like an angel to me.'" He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, kissing my forehead.

"How sweet!" She squealed. "I'm so happy for you dear. He's a keeper." She whispered loudly to me, walking towards her husband now. I elbowed his arm and gave him a playful smile.

"Well aren't you a master improviser!"

"*And* I'm a keeper." He teased, pulling me towards Roxy. Then we heard shouting.

"Alright everyone! If youbroght your swimsuits you are legally obligated to do the annual giant game of Marco Polo!" My mom shouted from the porch. I bounced a bit while dragging Luke to the lake.

"Take off your clothes!" I egged him on.

"This isnt the circumstance that I thought I would hear you saying that in." He replied, pulling his tie off. The tips of my ears were burning at this.

"Was there a circumstance that you imagined me asking you to take off your clothes." I wiggled my eyebrows at him and he just rolled his eyes.

"The world may never know." He was rid of his shirt now. His toned chest shone in the sun.

*Damn he is actually ripped.*

I could feel myself ogling but I couldn't stop myself. I was still fully clothed.

"Why do I have on less clothing than you." He complained. "Turn around." He commanded, I did so with confusion. He pulled the zipper of my dress down and pulled at the straps. Now I was the one thinking not-so-clean things.

*What did you get yourself into Y/n?*

I let the dress slide from my shoulders to show my bikini. It had a yellow sunflower top and plain white bottoms.

"No way." He deadpanned, not hiding how he was looking at my body.

"What?" He pulled his pants down to show sunflower swim trunks with a white background.

"Oh my god we look like a cringy couple." I held my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh like an insane person. Sooner we were in the cold lake, beginning the game.

"Alright, newest family member is it." Jess pointed to Luke and I shrugged. Everyone shifted around the area and the game began.

"Marco!" He shouted. A chorus of voices responded with Polo. "Oh God." I could hear him mutter with a snicker.

I swam silently beside him, hoping he wouldn't yell Marco.

But we know what kind of luck I have.

"Marco!"

"Shit." I whispered right next to him, attempting to go under to avoid being tagged. But his reflexes were too fast. He grabbed me with both arms, pulling me to him and opening his eyes.

"You're it." That's when I felt it, I knew I would remember this feeling for a long time.

The spark.

And before I knew it, he kissed my lips quickly. He pulled away and let go of me.

"Don't cheat! Close your eyes." He left me completely in the dark on the situation that just ensued.

I'm gonna kill this man.

-

The game ended after 45 minutes. I was it twice because I'm kind of a slow swimmer.

I jogged up to Luke, who was coming out of the lake. I pulled him aside, bringing him down to my level.

"What was that." I whispered exasperatedly.

"Well you said you felt bad that I had to fake this. To be truthful, not much of this is faking for me. Is it for you? Do you wanna keep this a fake thing?" His finger gestured between us. My brows furrowed at the question.

*Of course not.*

"Are you sure?"

"How many times are you gonna ask me that." He laughed, bringing me into another kiss.

*This is going to be quite the story to tell people.*

[cxmetery-gates]

A DANCE WITH GHOSTS - VISERYS TARGARYEN

CHAPTER TWO: THE BEGGAR KING

SUMMARY: The Flower of Pentos reminisces and makes a plan. WORD COUNT: 1.1k NOTES: A reminder that these chapters are short, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. WARNINGS: none

MASTERLIST

THE COMMONER GIRL SAW THE prince watching her from above, his sneer very much present during her dance. How typical.

Evelyne only brushes her yellow hair back and continues to smile, singing with the children and helping the elderly with their daily tasks. It is true she has a soft spot in the hearts of everyone here in Pentos— all but one, that is.

Contrary to what a good amount of the Pentoshi people believe, her kindness is not a mask, not something she wears for her own benefit. Evelyne has a heart of gold, something not easily found. Innocence made a home in her soul from childhood, arguably perhaps since she was a babe in her mother's belly. Since a young girl, Evelyne dreamed of nothing but peace and love to conquer the land. Utterly aware of her impossible dream, Evelyne knows while evil and greed plague the minds of men, there will never be complete tranquility in any kingdom. Even here in Pentos, where art and music are highly valued, money is still a sign of power, and many will do whatever it takes to be the highest bidder.  However, this would never taint her visions. Each day, Evelyne would venture into the populated city and spread smiles to whomever needs it.

There is one she has yet to make smile.

She knows who Viserys Targaryen is; it would be a crime not to. Most do no pay nearly as much attention to him or his little sister Daenerys, but Evelyne, in meeting people from all backgrounds and status, has learned and listened. Of course, there are details that contradict each other and there is no telling if the rumors are true, but stories are all Evelyne has to go on.

Once, not too long ago, Evelyne was escorting a young girl back to her home. The poor girl became lost in the city when her mother sent her out for bread. It was in Evelyne's nature to help those in need, and perhaps this was indeed fate. While letting the small child ride on her shoulders, singing and prancing through the streets, there was another following them.

Right as Evelyne wished good merry to the poor family, a long haired girl approached, her silvery locks unmistakable.

"M'lady," Evelyne curtsied, though far from graceful.

Daenerys Targaryen smiled softly. "Please, you have no need to bow. You have done far more for this city than I ever could."

Evelyne blushed, not used to receiving outright praise from someone of a noble status. She tried her best to ignore classes and the societal ranking of her peers, but to be confronted peacefully by one who's family rode dragons and sat upon a throne for generations was something that simply never happened. "Thank you, m'lady. You are far too kind."

The princess's plump lips rose into a wider smile, the innocence and sweetness of the young girl very, very noticeable. "Perhaps you can show me around? I do not get a chance to explore all that often."

It wasn't long until Daenerys, with her hooked arm entwined with a new-found friend, began leading the way. Evelyne was familiar with the streets in the ancient city, though the rugged and lose cobblestones began to pave way to delicately placed bricks and mansions that stood far too high for Evelyne's liking. She never found herself entirely welcome among highborns. And yet, the youngest remaining Targaryen child saw no shame in bringing a smallfolk⁠— a penniless entertainer, at that⁠— into the rich part of the city.

Acknowledgment was all Evelyne thought she would have received from Daenerys. Not a formal invitation to dinner. Shocked could not begin to describe her feelings. But, without hesitation, Evelyne graciously took the offer and even allowed Daenerys to bathe her with fancy oils and soaps. As young girls do, they took turns in braiding each other's hair, adorning the plaits with flowers from the garden. For the first time in a very long time, Evelyne was able to call someone a friend.

However, the moments approaching dinner were not as enjoyable.

Dany brought Evelyne to a sitting room and introduced her to Magister Illyrio, who recognized her immediately. A beautiful flower he called her, something not surprising. After all, she had been called a dainty flower her entire life. Dany insisted on letting Evelyne stay for a while, and, like always, Evelyne was not about to argue. She was, in truth, having a marvelous time entertaining the young girl and the man who kindly let her stay. The magister was laughing at a joke Evelyne made while the words seemingly flew over Dany's innocent head. Still, she laughed along.

It was then that the should-be king turned a corner.

"I will not have some dirty witch tarnishing my reputation, let alone this home." Viserys sent a narrow glare to the yellow-haired woman who hid her broken spirit with an intense stare.

"Viserys! Stop it!" Daenerys cried, eyes swimming with tears from anger and embarrassment. "Evelyne is my friend! She is welcome here!"

"Targaryens do not befriend peasants, especially one of this like."

This was when Evelyne finally noticed something odd about the prince: he never smiled. Never grinned, never laughed, never appeared to have the slightest bit of joy in his mind. On occasion Evelyne would catch him smirking, though she had a gut feeling it wasn't for good reasons. As far as she was aware, Evelyne never had the blessing of witnessing a content Viserys. She hated it. Not for selfish reasons. No, she would never force her optimism on anyone. Rather, she wished the true king of Westeros would behave the way he ought to. His brother was known for a swooning smile, a beautiful face girls would kill to look upon. Truthfully, Evelyne was willing to bet anything that he could be a loved king, and she had no doubt any noble lady would be honored to be sent a smile.

There must be something keeping his face in a permanent scowl.

And Evelyne is determined to find out.

Evelyne glances back up at the prince, catching herself mid-fall. Like before, his narrow eyes are set upon her figure. For the first time in weeks, her deep greens clash with brilliant mauve. A color tinges his pale cheeks at the contact. As quick as a flap of a dragon's wing, Viserys darts his eyes elsewhere then turns away, his body gone in a moment.

Feeling a small smirk meet her lips, Evelyne carries on, an obvious jolt of electricity adding more to her movements and her voice.

Oh, how determined she is.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@motheraiya​

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, LET ME KNOW!

[midnightartemis]

Chapter Two

On A03

TW: Attempted Assault, Abuse, Language

The Past, Time Uncertain

There were two things that I remember about passing through time. The first was the feeling of falling, though I could see nothing around me to signify my fall, just black, murky darkness. The second was the sound, muffled language that passed quickly by me, too fast for me to comprehend what was being said or sung. It was as if I was hearing every snippet of conversation spoken to the rocks since they were first placed there to stand as silent guardians.

My fall was ended suddenly as I hit the ground, dazed and confused. Had I passed out? The sky above me was now dark violet and filled with stars. There was nothing that I could remember that would have caused me to faint, so did someone hit me with something? Had I been robbed? I looked down at my finger to see that my simple wedding band was still there. Where there was once a small diamond, it was now missing. I sat up suddenly and scrambled my fingers through the grass searching for it desperately. The small band with the tiny diamond had been all that Henry could afford on a soldier’s pension. He had always promised to replace it with a bigger, better ring, but I had refused. It was our wedding ring. I didn’t care how much it cost or what it looked like as long as it meant that him and me became a we. But now the diamond was gone.

Did I lose it on the hike up the hill? Or worse, somewhere along the road? Even in the bright light of the full moon, it was hopeless trying to find it. We would have to come back tomorrow and search for it, even if it was so tiny that we would never be able to find it. I had to try. We had to try.

I hurried down the gravelly path, desperately trying to get back to my motorcycle and back home. I didn’t really know what time it was, though if I stopped to stare at the sky, I could probably figure it out. Navigating by the stars had become like second nature to me during the war.

If I hadn’t been so eager to get back home, perhaps I would have noticed that where there once was a fence for the pasture, there was now nothing. And the path that I traveled on was less worn down and muddier than before.

Maybe I would have gone back to the circle to see if I had gone the wrong way. Maybe I would have kept searching for my diamond. Maybe I would have touched the stone once more, and my time trespassing into a different life would have been brief and unnoticed.

My feet raced down the path until it ended suddenly and my confusion began. The road should have been there. My motorcycle should have been not two meters away. I turned around trying to orient myself again. Had I gone down the wrong path? Taken a turn that I hadn’t seen before on my way up?

A gunshot ripped through the air and the ground beside me exploded. My next reactions were ones that had been ingrained in me nearly every day for the last four years. Run. Hide. Cover. No time for thinking. Thinking means death.

My eyes search the skies for bomber planes as I race towards the closest available cover, the thick trees of a heavily wooded area. Had I been in my right mindset, I may have noticed that these trees were much older and thicker than the modern forests of Scotland. But it was hard to think when all I heard were the muffled sounds of gunshots and men’s yells that echoed through the forest. I kept running, kept moving, until the land descended to a stream bathed in moonlight, but otherwise hidden by large juts of rough, mossy stone.

I pressed myself against the rock and tried to calm my breathing. I could still hear the gunshots and yells, but they sounded more like pistols than machine guns. One shot at a time, long pauses between. But the war is done. The war is over. My brain tried to think rationally. I knew that the Scots didn’t really like the English, but much of the tension was between the Irish and the English. And who would call for infighting so soon after the end of the Great War?

None of that much mattered when they were shooting at me. It didn’t matter why if I was just going to get shot anyway and die.

See? Think later. Run. Hide. Cover. I was about to make my move to skirt through the forest and around the edge of Craigh na dun to find my bike and get the hell out of here when I heard the undeniable click of a hammer being pulled back.

“Turn. Slowly.” The voice is rough but oddly familiar.

I slowly raise my hands and turn to face my attacker. The moonlight is faint, but my eyes have adjusted well enough to see the man standing in front of me holding a gun to my head. “Henry? Henry, what the hell?”

He was dressed very strangely in what seemed to be an old British uniform, though this one seemed brand new. His eyes were hard and furious. “What’s an English woman like you doing in the middle of the woods?”

“What do you mean? Henry, what are you playing at? This isn’t funny.”

“Henry? There’s no Henry here. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in with those Scottish scum,” he eyes me with a leering eye and I slowly take a step back. “Though you are half-naked in strange clothes. Don’t you miss a British man? Refined? Less hairy? Or maybe you prefer wild savagery.”

“Henry, please stop, you’re scaring me.”

“My name is Captain Johnathan Snoke.”

My heart stops completely and my feet turn to run, but he’s on me before I can take a step. He throws me against the ground, and I scrape at the dirt to get away but he’s on top of me and tearing at the top of my pants and there’s a hand on my mouth to keep me from screaming so I scream on the inside. “Prancing around the Queen’s countryside pretending to be a man won't keep you-“

A loud crack above me cuts off his words, and his weight is lifted from me. I don’t have a second to think or breathe before I’m hauled to my feet by a different hand and dragged through the dark forest. I desperately try to pull away from my rescuer, but his hand remains firm around my arm. He’s a giant beside me, nearly seven feet tall, all bushy hair and wild-looking in the dark. He’s not wearing the British uniform, but something darker and more rugged.

“Stop yer fussing if ye don’t want a bullet to your head or a cock in your cunt.”

I freeze, but this only prompts the man to tug me harder along with him. “I’ll scream.”

“Do that and I'll leave ye here for the dogs. Ye come with me quietly and I can at least keep ye safe 'til morning.”

More gunshots ring out in the distance and it takes me an instant to realize that if I am to survive the night and wake up from this nightmare, then I should comply with this beast of a man. I let him lead me through the dark woods which he seems to know like the back of his hand and it isn’t long until we come to a small dark cottage. He opens the door and throws me inside, and I’m suddenly basked in candlelight. A dozen eyes focus on me.

“Who’s this.”

“British lass. Caught her being attacked by none other than Captain Jack.”

“I hope ye sliced his throat for me.”

“No chance.”

My mind is racing to take in the information that is surrounding me. There’s nothing but a group of men, but they’re unlike any men I had ever seen. They seemed to be playing dress-up, wearing knives and swords and pistols and clothes that looked like they were pulled out of a history book and dragged through the mud.

“She could be a spy.” There’s a short, dark-haired man leaning against the wall of the small stone house. He moves in a way that tells me he’s the leader of this lot.

“I’m not a spy,” I say and the reaction in the room tells me that they’re surprised I can even speak. “Did no one tell you that the war is over and it wasn’t against the British?”

A hearty chuckle goes around the room and I’m beginning to move beyond scared and into pissed.

“The war is just beginning, lassie.” Another man chimes in.

The leader of the group sends him a look that could kill and the man immediately shuts up and turns his eyes down. The leader takes a sip of something that I don’t think is water. “Would ye tell us what a young English woman like yourself is doing dressed as a man in the middle of the woods at night in times like these? Speaking to Captain Jack of all people?”

“I wasn’t speaking to him. ” I spit out.

The man’s eyes narrow. “That dinna answer my question, lass.”

“I was at Craigh na dun. I took a wrong path down the hill and before I could trace my steps back, I was shot at. So I ran.”

“Nearest town is more than a fair walk away.”

“I rode.”

“Where’s your horse?”

“My horse? No- I rode a-“

A sharp cry of pain interrupts me and I stop to look at its source. There’s a figure by the fire doubled over in seemingly grand amounts of pain. I watch as the leader goes over to him and touches the figure’s shoulder. The figure winces. In the light, I can see now why he’s in so much pain. Dislocated shoulder.

“Let’s put that back where it belongs.” The leader takes the man’s arm and he groans in pain. He’s doing it wrong. He’s going to-

“Stop!” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. All eyes in the room turn to me, including the man at the fire. His eyes are dark and intense, wet with the pain he’s holding back. “You’re going to injure the tendons and muscles even more. Let me.”

I step forward and am met with a wall of heavily armed men about ready to place their blades in my side. I stop and eye the leader, completely unsure as to why I’m even bothering to help my now kidnappers. “I’ve been trained in first aid. I know how to reset his arm correctly.”

The leader eyes me for a moment then nods. I slowly inch forward until my hands are on the injured man's arm. He groans as I slowly maneuver his arm into the correct position. “I’m going to need you to resist me. Push when I push, okay? I’m not strong enough to do it on my own. And it’s going to hurt. A lot.”

The man says nothing, just quietly nods. I take a deep breath and still myself. “On three. One… two… three…”

I push with all my might and he pushes back, groaning as the joint slips back into place. His dark eyes are watching my every move. “Is there a long bit of cloth for a sling?”

Someone hands me a bit of dirty cloth and I suppose it’s the best we’ve got right now. I fashion him a sling. “Rest your arm for a few days. No strenuous activity or you’ll hurt it further.”

“We’ve best be going. Won’t be long until those bloody bastards find us again.” The leader says and all the men begin to move. I head toward the door ready to make my way through the night and back to the stones to find my bike and get very, very far away from here.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand grabs my arm and I yank away. I was getting very tired of strange men grabbing me whenever they pleased.

“Back to Craigh na dun and far away from you lot.”

His eyes narrow and I can tell he doesn’t like my answer. “I think you’re coming with us, lass.”

“Like hell I am.” I spit at his feet and this time blades are actually drawn. The leader of the group just laughs.

“Yer a feisty one,” he chuckles. “Until I get the truth of who ye are and whether or not yer a spy for the British, yer not going anywhere.”

“And what if I chose to go somewhere?”

“Then ye will be forcibly readjusted to the correct course.”

My heart pounds as I stare at the wild men before me. None of this made any sense. My head rebelled at the possible conclusions to this mess that I had already drawn. If that truly was Captain Johnathan Snoke back in those woods and not a horrible prank by my husband, then that meant that I was no longer in the safe hands of 1945. That somehow I had been transported through time to the mid-1700s.

Impossible.

It was all impossible.

My mind clung to the last possible sane explanation, that this was all a strange dream. And soon I would wake up in the too small, too squeaky bed of our bed and breakfast. I would roll over and tell Henry about the strangest dream I just had.

And then I remember that I hadn’t gone back to the bed and breakfast. That this couldn’t be a dream. That this all felt very, very, terrifyingly real.

[andromedarune]

Request ~ “Ok, ok. I want this from Raihan perspective I think it falls in the category of imagine or AU I guess, since you said is more easy for you to write the female perspective, what about the idea of Raihan becoming a woman for 24 hours, so he is shocked for a bit, but then he overcomes his panic with the idea of having a day free of responsibilities, nobody would recognize him and would be able to go out without fans or haters all over him. Maybe do a bit of mischief. I hope is okay.”

Hehehehe alright, time to write Raihan with a pair of titties FUCK YAH!!! Though I’m not sure if I did as good a job as I could have done, here y’all go. 

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Raihan Imagine)

Morning came softly, his mind slowly reviving from the depths of slumber in a blurry fashion. It was always a welcome sensation, processing the world and your sensations without a loud alarm blaring in your ear, hurriedly thrusting you into a world of loud stimuli and expectations. Which is the main reason why Raihan loved the weekends; slow, easy-going, relaxing. Even he needed his quiet moments. So, the gym leader took a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of his chest rising and falling as he kept his eyes closed a little longer. Soft satin sheets curled seductively around his bare form, making it hard to discern where his body ended and the bed began. Not like that really mattered at the moment. No, as he flipped over, sweeping his arms underneath his pillow for extra cuddling action, he reminded himself that this was his well-deserved rest, that nothing should get in the way of his rewarding day of sleep. Raihan snuggled a bit deeper into his mattress, eager to find the perfect position of comfort.

Huh, it’s a little awkward to sleep like this. He adjusted his body a bit more, but he couldn’t help but feel some constriction on his chest. A little tight. Kind of hard to breath. He groaned, reluctantly pushing himself up to get a breath of air. Strange; he felt a little, well, top heavy. But he was still sleepy, so he opted to lay on his side, for now. He pulled his legs in close to his body, eager to see if a fetal position would be comfy. But feeling his legs glide across each other so easily felt a bit… wrong?

Okay, something was definitely wrong here.

He pushed himself up, letting his plush duvet tumble down his body as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly scratched his chest, only to very quickly realize that something was most definitely wrong here. His eyes shot open. He felt a little more. Huh. He looked down. Ah.

“Uhhhh….” was about all he could manage before bolting out of his bed, all traces of sleepiness vanishing into the nothingness as he raced into the bathroom. “What. The. FUCK.”

He looked into the mirror, blinking a few times as he processed the unfamiliar figure that stared back at him. He was still clad in his briefs from the night before, but other than that, nothing else was really familiar. Sure, he was probably still the same height, had the same dreads (albeit maybe a bit longer?), the same dark skin, and the same blue eyes - but everything remotely familiar was completely overshadowed by the fact that he was apparently no longer a man. Every couple seconds, he would glance down to make sure he was seeing everything properly, only to shut his eyes tightly, as if he wasn’t allowed to look. Maybe he wasn’t - he didn’t know. He had no fucking clue what the hell was going on right now.

Raihan shook his head, trying in vain to steady his feverish breathing. He ran himself through everything that happened the day before: he woke up, went to work like always, trained for four hours, went to two meetings (one for the league and the other for a sponsorship opportunity), came back home, showered, went to grab a bite to eat with Leon, tended to his pokemon, hit a few clubs, got drunk, came home, passed the fuck out. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Friday night. The panic rose a little more. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his arm; a jolt of pain ran through his bicep, but not much else happened. He opened his eyes and saw that this was somehow not a dream. So what the FRICK FRACK PADDY WHACK was going on here?!

He can’t go outside like this. People would freak the hell out if they realized that he was the Great Raihan of Hammerlocke. And certainly none of his friends would believe him even if he did try to ask for help. He hardly recognized himself, so how would anybody else

He blinked. Suddenly, the panic subsided.

Nobody would recognize him. Like this, nobody would have the slightest clue that he was really the dragon-type gym leader. He was someone else entirely to the rest of the world. Which meant that all the downsides to his life no longer applied.

A devious smile worked its way onto his face, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the new feminine features. He didn’t know how long this would last, so why not make the most of it? Being an attractive man was a party in and of itself; what about as a woman? Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

It took a little getting used to; his entire center of gravity was altered completely, but with a bit of practice, the gym leader found himself moving around with a newfound ease in his changed body. He hopped in the shower, trying to find a relatively neutral emotion amid the rising embarrassment and interest at his own body as he bathed. Afterwards, he rummaged through his closet for some simple clothes that wouldn’t arouse too much attention - a simple orange T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans that suddenly didn’t seem so skinny anymore, finished with a pair of white trainers and a black jacket. Everything was just a little big yet a little tight in strange places, but upon looking in the mirror it seemed as though nothing looked terribly awkward. He looked, dare he say, quite nice. He gave himself a cheeky wink, spinning on his heels and reached for his clip of pokeballs. Ah, he pulled back his hand, feeling a tinge of sadness, that might be pushing it. Everyone would recognize my team - best to just leave them here. With that, he grabbed some cash and ran out the door, eager to see how the world felt from a new point of view.

Raihan as himself gathered a lot of attention. Like, a lot. The poor man couldn’t even take a piss without someone recognizing him and trying to start up a conversation about anything. And for the most part, Raihan was okay with that. It meant he was famous. Sure, the load of hate comments he got on his social media was a bit annoying, and every now and then he had a few hecklers at his exhibition matches, but nothing he couldn’t handle. But now that he was able to walk down the street without so much as a second glance from people, a wave of newfound emotions washed over his body, far more refreshing than the nice autumn breeze that danced through Hammerlocke. Freedom.

He pranced into a bakery, one that he had always meant to visit (it was always closed by the time he got off work, most days, and was too busy to really comfortably visit on the weekends). Immediately, he was hit with the distinct smell of bread and coffee, filling up his senses in the best of ways. A decent line was formed by the display, people peering in the find the answer to their cravings without noticing the gym leader’s presence. He could’ve cried from the beauty of it all; who knew that being a nobody would be so relaxing? After waiting in line for several minutes, it was finally his turn. Raihan stepped towards the man behind the register, instinctively putting on his casual, easy-going smile.

“W-welcome,” the cashier got a good look at Raihan, suddenly turning rather bashful. “And, uh… W-what can I get for you, um, today?”

Raihan flicked up an eyebrow, curious at the man’s behavior. Surely he didn’t recognize him, right? With those bright red cheeks and the avoidance of eye contact, something was definitely - Oh, yeah. Kind of a hot chick. Raihan smiled a bit more, not even trying to hide his ego.

“Just a latte and a lemon cake, please.”

The cashier nodded furiously, slapping a few buttons on the cash register as fast as he could. The poor sap looked as though he was about to explode. This was about twenty times more entertaining than watching his fangirls get all flustered and embarrassed; it wasn’t often he saw a guy get so understandably disoriented in his mere presence. Fun. After a few moments, Raihan was walking away with his treasure, adding a little flourish to his steps as he excited the establishment. Raihan strode down the street, happily munching away on his cake and occasionally easing it all down with his hot coffee.

For the first time in years, Raihan was able to walk around his own city without anybody bothering him for autographs or battles or even a conversation. Sure, he accumulated a bit of attention wherever he went, but it wasn’t anything close to the fame of being the top gym leader. Just enough eyes were on him to feed his ego, but nobody seemed to care enough to bother him. Perfection. He meandered all around the town, finding this to be the perfect time to visit all the stores and establishments he’d always wanted to see. He wandered through clothing stores (he pretended to look through the girl clothes before eventually making his way into the men’s section, but thankfully nobody seemed to care), a little nursery that apparently had a brand new litter of adorable Yamper puppies, a busy restaurant that specializes in Alolan cuisine, and even got to watch that new Resident Weavile movie that everyone had been bashing online (it was terrible, but the good kind of terrible) - all the things he would have otherwise never been able to do as himself. Deep down, there was a part of him that really wanted this to stick, for him to have a fresh start in this world he already knew so well and try things at a different angle. Another part of him feared that he’d never go back to his old life; his love for battling and stardom was far too grand to be satisfied with a mild life, that’s for sure. So the gym leader eventually decided that if this all would disappear, he would at least get all his desires of simplicity out of his system before he lost his chance.

The day was winding down, the sun setting beneath the horizon of old buildings and tall trees. Raihan settled down onto a bench, enjoying the crispness of the air as he watched the sunset. Things seemed to be going really good - that is until he heard cheering erupt from somewhere behind him. Immediately, he tensed up, wondering if this was the end of his day of freedom; he slowly turned around, only to be greeted with something he wasn’t expecting. A large crowd had formed down near the train station, the sheer amount of squealing fangirls giving him an idea of who exactly had made the appearance. Curious, Raihan pushed himself to his feet and wandered over to investigate.

Leon’s booming voice easily carried in the air, his laugh echoing across the tall brick buildings that populated Hammerlocke.

“Thank you all very much for your constant support!” the champion’s voice bellowed out, a tinge of exhaustion just barely noticeable to Raihan. “But I’m only here to visit a friend of mine.”

The crowd sighed dejectedly, but eventually made way for him to walk through. Raihan hesitantly came to a stop just a bit away, trying to remind himself that Leon wouldn’t recognize him like this. Just as the champion emerged from the crowd, the two locked eyes. Raihan gave a smile and waved. He expected something similar in kind.

He was not expecting Leon to full-on look away, rubbing the back of his neck with a hot blush coating his face.

Oh shit.

“Hello,” Leon tried for a calm smile, but still looked plenty flustered as he approached the person he didn’t realize was his best guy friend. “Are you, perhaps, a fan?”

I should probably tell him, Raihan mulled that thought over in his mind.

“You could say that.”

“Do you want an autograph? I don’t mind sparing an extra league card for a special fan!”

Raihan nearly burst out laughing. But he didn’t, mainly because he at least gave Leon credit for using the icebreaker he had told him to use a few months back. Leon was always so terrible with women, and now he was, flirting with someone who only looked female. Oh, the embarrassment Leon would be feeling if only he knew…

“Ooo, so I’m special, huh? I’m honored, Mr. Champion~.”

Leon blushed some more, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a card and a pen that he always carried with him. This was totally fucked up, but Raihan let himself enjoy the moment as his unknowing best friend scribbled his autograph on a league card with hearts in his eyes. Raihan gave a wink as he took the card between his two fingers. He watched in cruel joy as Leon fumbled with a farewell, nearly stumbling over himself as he walked back down the street. This would definitely be a memory that Raihan would never forget.

The gym leader walked home not long after that, still snickering to himself over the escapades of the day. He snuck back to his apartment, hoping to keep himself from raising eyebrows from his neighbors as he slipped into the safety of his home. It was dark, and a soft light from his phone on his bed caught his attention just before he turned on the lights. The gym leader picked up the device; several missed calls, a bunch of unread messages, and perhaps a thousand various social media notifications. He skimmed all the notifications, surprised to find himself so surprised that people were curious at his sudden silence online. Various fans commented on his posts, many of which he recognized to be long-term fans of his work all noting how Raihan was never absent from the online-life. People he had never even met were genuinely worried about him. He looked at the calls. Most were work-related, a few numbers he sort of recognized as being some officials from the league that he never bothered to save their contact information; many were from Leon and some of the other gym leaders. His stomach rumbled with a small guilt. It’s a little harder to be ambivalent when it’s your friends who are worried, as well. He pulled up the messages, noting that most of them were the sporadic and short-fire messages from Leon (go figure), asking him where he was and if everything was alright. Raihan only paused for a moment to laugh when Leon mentioned meeting a beautiful woman earlier in the day. With a deep sigh, Raihan took the time to reply to the messages, eventually moving on to post a quick text update for his social media pages regarding his absence; everything was fine, he just wanted to be off the grid for a while. Comments flowed in, for once all positive. Raihan smiled, resting back into the warm confines of his bed. He had grown so accustomed to this body already, but he knew that he would be ready to return to his well-earned life as a gym leader sometime soon. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander a bit more as sleep began to claim him bit by bit. Even if he remained in this body forever, Raihan was certain that he much preferred the life of a star more than the life of a simple human. It was just how he was wired - nothing wrong with either lifestyle, of course. He smiled at that thought.

When morning arrived the next day, all was back to normal. Now, Raihan only had to figure out how he was going to face Leon again without busting into a fit of laughter.

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 9: Ch 4

Previous

Summary: Syco and the unnamed Space Explorer question their choices.

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Lost in Space on ao3

“Human,” he exclaimed. A book, which is angled against the wall he tried hiding behind, began to wobble. It shook as if an earthquake had suddenly slammed against the library. Then, it flew into his hand. Its spine is the first to make contact. Its cover and back come next with the gripping of his hand. Fearful one moment and as irritated as the Lord in the next, he pulls his hand back. He threw the book, but it was halted from its destination, my face, with the Lord’s dexterity. Their contact sounded like Cala rose from the grave and made his return by crashing through the library’s one window, breaking the metal bars encasing it, and into the library itself. Cracks all around, a massive crater, and the rise and eventual fall of the millions of books and us. Because of how close I am to the handrail, I would fall into the hole and instantly be deleted from there if the library did not just collapse in on itself before then. 

“My intentions are to understand and bring understanding. I usually see no point in violence. It almost always turns out to be a waste of my time. That being said, if I have to discipline, then I will do so. Do not forget you are before a Lord.”

He bows and continues with, “I-I...forgot my place. Forgive me, Lord.”

“Most importantly, you are before me. Compared to the other Lords, I am the least patient. Do not test that. So, speak unless spoken to and do no more. How many of you are out there fighting against the rebellion?”

“Currently, a little more than four hundred, Lord.”

“Interesting. I will be blunt with the following because I want this done as soon as possible. It is rare for me to find a day like this one. The Lords have long comprehended what is happening. They know of your efforts, and if they knew you were here, they would thank you. That is why I am going to hand you this book.” One golden mist engulfing their hand later, and a book, far thicker than the many others I have glimpsed, lays flat on the hand. The Lord hands it to, at first, the hesitant anti-rebellion member who nearly drops it because of its weight. “This should be all you need to know. Now off with you.”

He reads the title and shakes with excitement. His hands turn page after page before the Lord repeats themselves. He scampers away but glares in my direction before leaving.

“The Lords have grown lazy. True, they have slacked before, but now it has become completely unacceptable. After thousands of years, they still believe mortals are primitive. This is why they have not done anything to quell the anarchists but instead use the same things they claim are beneath them to do their work. Their hands would not get dirty, sure, but it would send the wrong message. It will give people a reason to question.”

“Then.” I gulp. I gulp twice. I think of words. I make a sentence or two in my head. I think of things to say, but nothing comes out. Was the Lord's whole body glowing? They looked ironically heavenly. “Why did you let them go with that book?”

“Why did I help further the agenda of something I so clearly detest? Well, one reason is that I want to give them what they want. I want them to feel a moment of success, but I also want them to realize the consequences of their actions. They will beg for my forgiveness. Hopefully, finally, respect me after. The next I will not say, but I can say the last is, funny enough, one of their reasons. This will be interesting.

“Now, I no longer need your presence. Be off as well.”

Up above, three moons lit up the night sky. I bathe in their light. They shine on the dusty books around me as well. They sparkle. They look fantastical, magical. I would look heavenly if this body was not made from binary code. If I was, I would not feel heavenly. Heaven. Hell. Two different places, both used to explain what happens after death. The good go to Heaven, and the bad go to Hell. They help explain the universe to many, but it just leaves more questions to be asked. Like why should we be judged for things He could have prevented? Why must we suffer for caring about the wrong things?

Four hundred. There are four hundred just like Sakhra’s ex-brother. There is also the rebellion and what Sakhra has in store. The war continues from beyond that window. Casualties, thousands of them. Trillions are in the middle of it as they have yet to choose their side. I am not sure what to make of the Lord perched up and walking along the slender handrail that is barely the width of one of his feet. Essentially a war on all sides, one that I instigated. I started this, but I am not sure how to end it. 

The Lord, now the biggest person I know, danced along the handrail. They spun, raised one of their legs, and jumped. Lots of leg movements. They pranced. They were delicate, even more, delicate from the long-gone cloaked man. A beautiful show, but it is a warning. They are balanced, and I am not.

I did not know I dozed off. I woke up to Saamuki softly calling out to me and blinking my eyes open to her waving her blurry hand across my face. I said something, but I think it came out as a mumble, stutter, and a ramble all at once because she takes a moment to respond with, “I finally found what I was looking for. I found this secret room first, and then bam, I found this. Would you want to take a look?”

“Sure,” I slurred out. 

It is still night, but only one moon lit up the night sky. I must have been asleep for a while, but I am still sleepy. I nearly dropped the heavy book she handed to me. We both fumble with it until I get a grip on it. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Whoopsie. I think we should head back in case I get butterfingers again, and the book actually drops this time.”

“Agreed.”

That woke me up. Back on the ship with the book remaining in my hand, I tighten my grip on it. Should I tell the others that I met one of the Lords? Should I tell Syco? I thought about it until Saamuki brought my attention to the absent Shiitakee. He is nowhere in the room. 

Both of us think it is unusual, but it is Saamuki that voices our concern. “Weird,” she turns to me, “Do you know where he could have possibly gone?”

I am about to reply, but I am cut off by the shout of two distinct voices that seem to be coming from the end of the hallway. We do not hesitate to follow the sounds. 

“You bastard,” Syco shouted. Who he is shouting at is unclear, as his and a handful of crewmates’ backs are facing towards us. The two of us, Saamuki and I, squeeze past them. Most do not mind. The second-in-command looks at us with a frown. We ignore and try to look over Syco’s massive figure. 

Shiitakee, who is the one being shouted at and has acquired a black eye in the time we separated, replies with, “Syco, I have known you since the beginning. We know each other better than anyone else, so you have to know what I am doing is for you. You are not well. You keep making rash decisions.”

“You dare to use our friendship right here, right now, after what you have done? How long have you been plotting against me?“ His black-eyed friend looks away. Ex-friend now? Spy, obviously. “I said how long, Shiitakee. How long?”

“Six months ago when your predecessor was killed. Supposedly, he was,” the black-eyed spy blurted out.

“And what do you mean by that last statement?” 

“I know what you are doing to him. It is sick, Syco. Sick! You need help. You know I am right. You had a feeling I would do this because you let her join your little meeting. I have known you far longer than her, but you have never let me come with you. I should not be surprised, considering you never listen to me. You fear for my advisement.” Syco's ex-friend grew heartbroken. “Listen, I wished this did not have to come to this. At first, for some time, I did not want to do this.”

Interjecting, I asked, “What are you two talking about? What happened?”

Syco, still eyeing Shiitakee, ignores my question. Instead, it is his second-in-command that elaborates, “Commander Syco found out Shiitakee has been backstabbing him. Shiitakee has been sending information to our enemies about the commander's plans for years. Recently, which is how Commander Syco found out, he sent the schematics of our ship.”

“Tell me why I should not send you out an airlock?”

“Because I would survive.”

“I do not care whether you do or not. I just want you gone, far away from me, and I want you to suffer. Grab him and send him out the closest airlock.”

Those around us, Tauvoxes besides Syco and his second-in-command, head towards Shiitakee. Shiitakee, determined, with a fighting spirit, refuses to be captured so easily. He dodges their reaching arms, and with both of his hands, he punches. Two stumble back, but two come forward to confront him. They swing, which Shiitakee dodges by lowering, but the two kick in unison. Their knees smash his face. His back hits the wall, and he gets less than a second to relax before the two come at him with their horns. They pierce into him. I squirm at this, and I meet Saamuki’s eyes. He spits out blood before several holes appear on his cap. They open wide. 

“Fools, get out of the way,” Syco told his men, but it is much too late before they realize it. The gas, this time red, quickly spreads around them, causing the two Tauvoxes to immediately pluck their horns out as they stumble away and cough. One of them pukes. The two in the back try to crawl away, but it is soon too late for them too. They cough as the rest of us try to get away. We do, but Shiitakee flees. 

While Shiitakee can go one way, we are forced to take the other. It was a longer route, though, so we met him almost too late. He has his hands on an escape pod, but he does not know how to use it. If he did, he would have been gone by now. 

“Shiitakee, open this door right now! Stop being a coward and face me.” He can not hear Syco even as Syco pounds his fists on the escape room’s door, but I think he sensed a few eyes on him because he turns away from the pod and jumps. The spy frantically presses buttons. When that fails to work, tries to move the pod by pushing it towards an airlock. Saamuki and I are bystanders, not sure of what to do. The second-in-command does not join this role as he gets out a screen and proceeds to try to unlock the door. It is after the third attempt that Syco slams himself against the door, hoping to break it down. Right when he is about to hit the door for the fifth time, the other Tauvox unlocks the door. Syco tumbles to the floor, which the smaller of the two apologizes for, but Syco ignores and presses towards his ex-friend. He gets a punch on Shiitakee, and when he is going for a second, the vegetation binds his hands together. They rapidly grow, lengthening. It creates a shield, protecting him from the punch, but it does not protect him from Syco striking above him. A headbutt from Syco towards Shiitakee’s cap and the mushroom humanoid falls to the ground. 

[a-deadly-serenade]

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 11: Goddesses and Glamour [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

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Deep inside, you truly believed that it was more than simply fate that those who were now practically your family just happened to vacation in Caliacra of all places every year. 

When you and Adrian had decided to return home--that day you had been lead back to your village-- you were bounding through the forest, skipping and hopping along to the hum of the magic that surged around you. 

The nymphs had rejoined you as well, the group of you twirling and dancing together as you weaved between branches and skimmed across the surface of tiny puddles. At that moment you had been so happy, at that moment, you truly believed your life to be perfect. 

Telling Lisa and Vlad had been the most exciting part of it all. You had burst through the door with such vigor that it wobbled on its hinges, your grin practically splitting apart your face. 

You found the two of them out on the patio of one of the many parlors that were spread throughout the castle, Lisa and Vlad cuddling up next to each other on a long wooden lounge chair. You thought it a bit comical with Lisa being in the half exposed to the sunlight, her pale skin glowing under the light of the mid-afternoon sun. 

Vlad had been covered by something you would later learn is called a ‘parasol’. He tells you that it had been a gift from the head of a vampire clan in the east where they specialized in making them with beautiful silk, patterned with flowers and intricate landscapes. He told you that she was coming to the party so you should make a mental note to find Chō; he promised that even though she might look very intimidating, she was a delight to be around as soon as you got to know her!

Once you finally managed to tell them (in-between gasps) what it is you discovered, they were elated at the news. They were both so happy to find out that your coven had found peace and the forest you once called home was still alive and well. At one point, Lisa offhandedly mentioned that she would love to visit said woods, and you couldn’t have thought of a better idea yourself!

So, that’s what you did the following morning--you took Lisa to the magical forest of your childhood. When the two of you finally ran into the nymphs, they could instantly pick up the healing energy that practically oozed around Lisa’s aura, and they fell in love with her almost instantly. They babbled on and on about the plants they could smell and that her ability to cure the ailments of not only the body but the soul as well, were par to none. 

They showed the two of you around the woods, pointing out special plants that they knew did not grow anywhere else but here and showing off flowers that would make even the most luxurious royal garden weep in envy. 

Lisa was absolutely enamored with the place, and she later confessed to you as you walked back that evening, the sun beginning to set beyond the horizon, that she could have stayed there all night too. It was as if she had stepped through one of the fairytales that her mother read to her as a child, she was still in disbelief that a place like that was even real.  

It had been so special to share that with Lisa, and it made you smile whenever you thought back to that first wondrous journey into the woods; memories you would forever hold dear in your heart. 

How Lisa’s eyes had glowed under the fairy lights that had been dancing across the still surface of a large pond beneath a towering, serene ancient ash tree. Or when the nymphs had led you two into a secluded alcove, a sacred area, one that trickled with a small waterfall between shale slabs of stone that had been covered in thick layers of moss. 

They explained that this is where they came to pay their respects to the forest spirits and showed Lisa how to properly do so. It was amazing, watching Lisa dip her hands in the crystal clear water and wash them under the gentle trickling waterfall as she went silent, and took her few moments to silently thank them for whatever she so chose to. 

You were so grateful that even though you had only been there a week,  so much had transpired within that time. 

Being back home was finally giving you the chance to properly heal with all of the tragedy you had endured, to finally make peace with it all. It was such a liberating feeling to let go of a little more hurt every day as you found yourself enveloped in the soft embrace of the poppies. 

It was so nice to talk to them, to tell them about everything that had happened in your life since losing them. Call you crazy, but you swore that they would turn their stems up towards the direction of your voice as if they were eagerly tuning in to what you were saying. 

These private sessions especially gave you time to think about what it is you wanted in life. It was hard, coming to terms about certain truths you’d made yourself believe for years, and you knew it would take time, but the progress you were already making certainly had you happy. 

You also sensed that things were slowly returning to normal with Adrian. You could tell it took a turn for the better when you caught a glimpse of his expression as you sat down beside him for breakfast that morning after arriving in Caliacra. He had been so shocked that even Vlad had made a comment curiously asking why Adrian was making such a face. 

Hatred had been right in calling you childish, for you had avoided eating with the Tepes family for almost a  week due to your anxiety over seeing Adrian again after his…  confession.

But after that morning, he appeared to “bump” into you more, and slowly these awkward run-ins turned into time you two actually spent hanging out with one another.

One of the first things you had done was bring him to the tide pools that emerged from the deep as the ocean receded with the fading moon. You had fashioned a net out of seagrass you had tied together by using your magic and you nearly burst into laughter every single time you got a look at the face he’d make whenever you showed him your catch. His favorite had to have probably been the sea urchins you found hiding between some rocks in a smaller pool underneath a bizarre rock formation. 

A couple of days later, he offered that the two of you go horseback riding on the beach together. At first, you thought him mad. But then you realized that the stables were technically connected to the castle so… 

Truth be told, you did not even think to look for the stables once you arrived in Caliacra, and you suddenly felt so guilty for practically ignoring Clara for over a week! She had been a huge help during you and Adrian’s mild fall-out, as you often confided in her while you brushed out her mane or leaned against her large back while you thought out loud. 

She had been so happy to see you again, stomping and shaking her head so vigorously you were worried she might just trample through the door. After you had managed to calm her down with a series of kisses and perhaps a solid five minutes of petting and scratching, you and Adrian headed out to the beach together. 

When you gazed upon his handsome black stallion, you recalled the conversation that you had with Diana a month or so ago, and mentally shook your head in agreement for he was handsome--and he knew it. 

Adrian’s horse pranced down the hill leading to the beach with such poise, but there was a hidden sense of pride and smugness underneath it all that made you smile mischievously to yourself; they were a perfect match. 

That day had been so much fun, for what started off as a gentle ride along the side of the calming waves, turned into a full-blown race, almost mimicking what you and Adrian had done together. Your laughter ran out into the chilled evening air, and as you both finally pulled your horses to a stop, you had to reprimand yourself several times because you could just not stop… staring!

Adrian’s long hair danced around him as a cool sea breeze that rolled off the waves mingled between the two of you. It shimmered almost silver in the low light of twilight and his eyes glimmered like the stars that had slowly begun to emerge in the sky. 

He looked so serene, so beautiful … it took your breath away.

Unfortunately, that image of him on the beach seemed to not only haunt you as you bid each other goodnight, but it also followed you into your subconscious as well. 

That morning you awoke in a huff, a blush to your cheeks when you realized that you had dreamt about the two of you alone, on that beach. It was like you were a lovesick little girl again or something!

Ugh! You ran your hands across your face in distress and let out a melodramatic moan as you began getting ready for the day. 

How embarrassing, you grumbled to yourself as you got out of your now lukewarm bath and started patting yourself dry. 

You need to start making up your mind, you chastised yourself while you finished drying your hair and started to brush it out. You have to come up with a decision once and for all. It’s not like you to play with someone’s feelings.

You gave a heavy sigh as you slipped on the flowy white sundress you decided to wear that day. It was cute, falling off the shoulder slightly as the puffy sleeves ended in a delicate satin trim of embroidered flowers. 

Perhaps you could entice Adrian to another round of hunting in the tide pools? That would be an activity where you could actively work together, but you didn’t have to really look at one another. It might work, right?

You rolled your eyes as you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen—your emotions were really starting to get on your nerves. 

As soon as you turned down the corner that hid the enormous kitchen, you come to a halt when you notice that it wasn’t just the Tepes family occupying the long wooden table. 

A tall woman with long black hair and gorgeous golden eyes sat across from Vlad, a lascivious smile on her ruby-colored lips. She wore a stunning dark blue suede dress that faded into a black gradient near the tips of the sleeves and the edges of the skirt, her long nails shimmering a deep turquoise in contrast to her outfit. 

Beside her was another woman. She was slightly paler in comparison, her icy blue eyes and bright white hair creating an ethereal sense to her. She sported a magnificent red dress that clung tightly to her form, intricate embroidery, not unlike your own, decorating the bust and hem. 

You were rather unsure how to approach them and stood awkwardly at the entrance for a few moments before your eyes landed on Adrian. He appeared to be the only one who noticed you and he gave you a smile before he patted the open spot next to him as an invitation for you to sit down.

You returned his smile with one of your own and started to quietly walk over to the table. About half-way to your destination, you hear the woman with black hair say to Vlad, a smirk on her face, 

“So, are you going to introduce me to this apprentice of yours, or are you going to ignore her for the remainder of breakfast?”

You froze mid-stride as both Lisa and Vlad’s heads whipped around to stare at you, surprised by your sudden appearance. 

“Oh!” Lisa exclaimed. “I didn’t even hear you come in my dear, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and take your seat beside Adrian. “No, it’s alright. You were in the middle of a conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Nonsense,” Vlad replied. “We weren’t discussing anything of importance.”

“So catching up with your sister is seen as unimportant now?” the woman across from Vlad said as she took a sip of her strong black coffee. 

“You…” Vlad sputtered and sighed as he shook his head. “You know that’s not what I meant--”

“Relax,” she teased. “You know I only jest.”

“Wait,” you whispered to Adrian. “Did she just say  ‘sister’?”

He gave you a playful smile as he took a bite of his buttered bread. “Don’t you recognize her?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the question. How were you supposed to recognize her? You had never even met her before! You found yourself risking another glance over at her, and as you got a second look, that’s when you remembered the paintings.

“That’s Stefana?” you spouted out. 

“Indeed it is, little witch,” her rich voice sent tingles up your spine and you could not help the flush that rose to your cheeks at what she called you.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” she leaned forward in her seat and gave you a coy smile. “I sure hope my brother hasn’t been bad-mouthing me in my absence.”

“She only knows what Lisa and Adrian have told her,” Vlad replied coolly, as he took a bite of his eggs. “It’s not my fault if she’s already made presumptions about you.” 

Stefana turned to look at Adrian and gave him a half-hearted pout as she wrapped an arm around him. “Now what have you been telling this lovely lady about me, nephew?”

“It was only a few passing comments,” Lisa filled in from across the table after she noticed how absolutely mortified Adrian looked. “She had stumbled upon that portrait you did with Vlad and Dumitra.”

“Ah,” Stefana said and relinquished her grip on her embarrassed nephew. “Gods, now  that’s a blast from the past.��

“I know!” Lisa exclaimed out in laughter. 

“Those portraits had been an absolute disaster to sit through,” she grumbled. “Dumitra’s constant griping made me want to stake myself.” 

“We’re going to have to deal with her at the party aren’t we?” asked the white-haired woman beside her. 

“Unfortunately,” Stefana replied softly. 

“Enough,” Vlad snapped. “We shall deal with her when the time comes. For now, I think, you should properly introduce yourselves.”

“A fine idea, brother,” Stefana leaned forward again so that she could get a good look at you, which wasn’t exactly difficult considering how tall she was. “My name is Stefana Maria Tepes and I am the lord that oversees this city alongside my partner,” her gaze softened as her attention turned to the woman next to her. 

“I am Carmilla of Styria,” she said to you, a smile on her thin red lips. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you all,” her gaze shifted to Lisa and Vlad, who sat in front of her. “Stefana has told me so much about you.”

“She must have wanted to keep you a surprise,” Lisa gave the two a playful grin. “Because all that we’d had heard is that she had found a new beau.”

“You said that you were from Styria?” Vlad queried, and a hush fell over the room.

Carmilla awkwardly cleared her throat and nodded her head. “Yes, I am.”

“That’s quite a ways away,” he said and folded his hands together to rest on the table. “Howabouts did you two meet?” 

Stefana’s eyes narrowed slightly, the lines of her face sharp as she did her best to bite back a retort to her brother’s prying. 

“Darling,” Lisa whispered to her husband as she nudged him with her elbow. “They just got here! Can’t we save the dramatics for another time?”

“No, it’s fine,” Stefana said, a low growl rumbling in her chest for a brief moment as she took a deep breath. “I’m assuming you’ve heard of the recent death of Duke Leopold?” 

Vlad took a sip of his tea, one of his pointed black eyebrows raised up in questioning. “Yes, he died about a year ago, did he not? I heard there was an uprising within the kingdom and they beheaded him.”

“Well,” Stefana drawled and began to trace a pattern on the table with the residue left behind from her chilled glass of orange juice. “That story is partially correct.”

Vlad let out a long, exhausted sigh, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with that?”

Stefana looked towards Lisa and shrugged her shoulders, who could only blink slowly in absolute shock while Adrian whipped around to shout,

“You killed him?!”

“Shout it from the rooftops why don’t you,” she snapped at him, but then smirked and pinched his cheek. “He was a stain,” she said, her expression turning much more serious as she turned back to face her brother. “See, I had heard rumors about Styria during my year of traveling, long before I even arrived. Other women that I would run into, trekking through the cold on nothing more than their own feet, would warn me about the place. They said women that found themselves there, were never to be seen again.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I would go on to learn that the one who ruled over Styria, this Duke Leopold, would have women kidnapped, and then either turned or eaten--I suppose it just depended on his mood,” she hissed, her face contorted into a grimace. “I couldn’t just stand there and let these people be treated like this!”

“So you killed him?” Vlad exclaimed in an exacerbated tone. “We could have done this diplomatically, Stefana. You could have arranged a meeting with the council so that we could have dealt him a  proper punishment.” “Oh don’t sit there and spout those formalities to me,” she rolled her eyes. “You and I both know that you participated in your own fair share of crusades.”

Vlad opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it as Lisa muttered,

“She’s got you there…” 

“Auntie, what did you end up doing?” Adrian asked, clearly still wanting to find out how exactly his aunt did in this so-called Duke Leopold.

“Well this is actually where I met Carmilla,” she explained, a smirk tugging on the corners of her lips as she rested her hand on her partner’s thigh. “Taking care of all the guards posted near his chambers was no problem. It doesn’t hurt being a member of the Tepes family,” she grinned, her long, pointed fangs shining in the sunlight. “I found her inside with him--”

“And what a sight that was to behold,” Carmilla all but purred. “She was covered head-to-toe in vampire blood,” she took a gentle grip of the hand on her thigh and interlocked their fingers as she raised it up to show off Stefana’s long nails. “And all she had used were the nails on her fingers.” she seemed almost giddy as she revealed this to everyone, which, honestly, made you a little uncomfortable.

Stefana gave Carmilla a stunning smile, her eyes hooded as she nodded her head. “Yes, those fools were so sloppy I didn’t even have to stoop to using their own weapons against them.” she chuckled. “I initially wanted to be the one to kill Duke Leopold, but when Carmilla explained to me what he had done to her, I decided that she’d have the privilege of delivering that worthless piece of scum to his death.” 

“So you beheaded him?” Adrian grimaced at the thought. “That’s a bit messy, isn’t it?”

“Not if he gets beheaded from being hung outside the bedroom window,” Carmilla replied, a maniacal shine glimmering in her icy eyes. 

“Oh dear,” Lisa quietly whispered to herself and took a couple of sips of tea. “No one wanted ramification for killing him, I suppose? What with the kingdom being in a state of anarchy?”

Carmilla nodded her head. “Yes, you are correct. In fact, nearly the entire kingdom rejoiced when a few villagers brought along his body they found early the following morning.”

“So who rules Styria now? I haven’t heard any news from over there  since Leopold’s death,” Vlad stated. 

“Carmilla is actually in the process of becoming the lord of Styria,” Stefana replied.

“Is that so?” Vlad rubbed his chin pensively. “Do you have any experience managing a town? It’s an awful lot of responsibility.”

“She’s been helping me here, in Caliacra,” Stefana clarified. “She’s quick at getting a hand on things, I’m sure she’ll be ready to rule over Styria soon,” she gave Carmilla a loving glance and pecked her on the cheek. 

“Um, excuse me?” you waved your hand in Stefana’s direction to try and get her attention. 

“Yes, little witch?” she asked with a smile on her face. 

“You said that you ruled over Caliacra?”

She nodded her head. “I have been for over a year now.”

“Do you…” your voice faltered, nervous about asking her what had been gnawing at the back of your mind this entire time; you were dying to know if she had ever heard about your coven. “Do you think I could ask you a couple of questions? In um… someplace more private?” 

Her thick black eyebrows furrowed together for a moment before her visage relaxed and she smiled. “Of course,” her gaze then snapped over to Lisa. “We should probably head out to get ready, don’t you think?”

Lisa ran her fingers through her hair as she chuckled. “The build-up to this is making me so stressed, but I know I have no reason to be.”

Stefana took hold of her hands and kissed the top of them. “You absolutely don’t, because  I will be taking care of everything. The only thing you have to do is sit back and make sure that both you and my brother are the most dashing at the ball.”

Lisa’s eyes crinkled with the relieved smile she gave Stefana in return. “I am eternally grateful for this. The idea of trying to decorate this place in anticipation for over two hundred guests is rather daunting.”

“Did she just say two-hundred guests?” you whispered sternly to Adrian. 

“It’s their twentieth anniversary,” he whispered back. “My family can be rather… over-the-top when it comes to celebrating important events. Apparently the party that was held in celebration for my birth had almost three-hundred guests.”

You looked at Adrian in disbelief. The biggest gatherings you’d ever held with your coven had been festivals honoring the arrival of Spring or harvest season, and even with everyone in your village attending those, that number paled in comparison to the parties the Tepes family was used to.

“What on earth am I going to wear…” you mumbled to yourself, feeling overwhelmed that such an extravagant night was only a couple hours away. 

“That’s where we come in, darling,” Stefana said as she got up from her seat, pulling Carmilla up with her. “We shall take care of everything, so don’t you worry your little head off.” her long slender legs seemed to glide across the brick floor of the kitchen as she walked over to ruffle your hair. “I promise to bring her back in one piece,” she teased Adrian as she hoisted you out of your seat with a simple tug of her arm.

Your face burned under her intense stare and you swallowed a lump in your throat, meekly waving goodbye to Adrian before Stefana practically dragged you out of the kitchen. 

It was difficult trying to keep up with her quick strides, but your curiosity started to get the better of you as the three of you remained inside of the castle. In spite of the fact that you were all but barrelling down hallways faster than you ever had in your life, you knew where you were headed. However, this raised more questions than it did provide answers, so when you finally came to a halt in front of Vlad’s study, you had to ask,

“What are we doing here?”

Stefana grinned down at you and pushed open the door, leading you over to a tall mirror that sat on the wall closest to the plush red armchair in front of the fireplace. 

“A mirror?” you wondered aloud. You had seen it before, back when Vlad invited you here to talk about your coven. What was so important about it?

“He’s never shown you?” Stefana seemed genuinely surprised and squatted down a bit so that she was eye-level with you. “This is called a distance mirror,” with the wave of her hand the image reflected in the glass shifted from the three of you to the interior of a beautiful castle. “With it, we can travel anywhere in the world so long as there is another one connecting you to that location.” 

Your eyes were blown wide from shock as you gaped at her. “So… where does this one lead to?”

“Several places,” she said. “But, we’re just stopping by my place for a bit. Maybe I can convince my brother to let you explore the other spots it can take you,” she chuckled and took a tight grip of your hand. “This may feel a little strange, but it’s perfectly safe.” 

You gave her a determined nod as you slowly began to walk closer and closer to the mirror. You had no idea what to expect and your eyes scrunched together as you subconsciously held your breath when your foot started to pass through the crystal clear glass. 

It felt almost like you had dipped your entire body into a freezing pond, a harsh gasp escaping your lungs when you landed back on solid ground. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself in a completely different room-- the one that you had seen within the mirror only seconds prior.

It appeared smaller than the average size of those within Castlevania, but it had such a cozy and inviting aura that it was almost impossible to not fall in love with the place. The walls were a rich violet, lined with soft watercolor paintings of flowers, noblewomen, and depictions of goddesses such as Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis. 

Three velvet chaise lounges encircled a white marble table, accented with colorful throw pillows that had all been strategically placed. Several dark wooden walnut bookshelves filled out the rest of the space, packed neatly with a wide array of literature from around the world. 

“This is a lovely little room,” you commented. 

“Thank you,” Stefana replied. “This is one of a few parlors I have. I tend to keep this one strictly business, which is why I hung my distance mirror here,” she pointed behind you to her mirror, which was equally as tall as the one in Vlad’s office, except Stefana’s was adorned in a lovely gold trim whose runes had been accented with a fine dusting of diamond powder. 

“We won’t be getting you ready in here though,” she gave you a pointed grin and took hold of your hand again as she led you through the halls of her home. 

The royal blue carpets that lined the hallways were plush and decorated with bright white floral patterns, the mauve walls complimenting the serene feel. The paintings in Stefana’s house were decoration pieces she must have sought out to help create the overall aesthetic she desired, for you spotted no family portraits amongst all of them. Perhaps she was less upfront about her personal life than her brother, an observation you found rather interesting.

She pushed open a set of double-doors at the very end of a hall, her arms outstretched as she twirled around and smiled. “Welcome to my humble bedchambers.”

Humble was an understatement. You guessed this had to be one of the largest rooms in the castle, with her bed alone taking up almost half of the entire space. It had no bedposts and instead had one large wooden frame made of balsa that curved around the circular shape of the mattress, which was adorned with a beautiful black silk blanket and a handful of feathery pillows. 

An enormous vanity stood parallel to the bed, the same bone white color as the wood making up her frame. Boxes an array of sizes and colors littered the deskspace, each one filled with a variety of jewelry and accessories. Glass vials filled with clear liquids were scattered about as well, and a few plush vanity chairs were lined up in front of the vanity. The large accompanying mirror hung on the wall, and you were startled to discover that you could see both Carmilla and Stefana’s reflections. 

“I thought vampires had no reflections?” you asked Stefana as she placed you onto one of the low chairs. 

“Aren’t you the clever one,” she smiled slyly. “This one I had custom made to not have a silver backing. That way, even someone like me can use it.”

Your head cocked to the side as you took a good look at the mirror, and made an approving face while you nodded. “That’s pretty ingenious, actually.”

“Perfection like this,” Stefana over-dramatically framed her face as she took a seat behind you and leaned closer to your ear.  “Requires more time than you might realize.”

You scoffed. “You know you two are some of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen, right?”

Stefana’s eyes lit up, her golden irises glittering exquisitely under the lighting of her room. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile and you felt her run her long nails through your hair. “If you keep being so sweet, I might have to snatch you up myself.” she chuckled when she noticed how red your face was, practically sneering at your flustered heart beat rapidly in her ears.

“It’s not every day we have someone as cute as yourself compliment us in such a way,” Carmilla’s sultry voice caused you to become even more flustered, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in your chest when she grabbed a hold of your hand and lifted your arm up closer to her face. “I think I’m going to enjoy pampering this one, my love,” she said as she gazed up at Stefana.

“Excellent,” she replied smoothly. “Then let us get started.” 

                                   _________________________

The next few hours were filled with so much primping, and styling, and teasing, and measuring, and adjusting that by the three-hour mark, you were starting to go a little bit crazy. Your face stung a bit--but you think it was just from this powder Stefana had used around your cheekbones--and your body ached a bit more than you would have liked, but excitement still managed to lace through you when they told you they were finished with your outfit. 

Since you had made it clear how uncomfortable you’d feel if you wore no undergarments protecting your chest, Stefana had fashioned a single piece that began as a thin-strapped top of a chemise that changed into shorts near the bottom. It was light and made of fine silk, and you had to fight the urge to tell her she shouldn’t have bothered with that… you would have been happy if it was made of cheap hemp cloth!

You were rendered speechless when they finally presented the dress. It was spectacular, a form-fitting piece that was, to your delight, your favorite color! Most of it appeared to be made of wool, but the inside was lined with exquisite silk dyed a slightly lighter shade than the rest of the dress. The top was cut traditionally, with just a little bit extra off the shoulders so they could be a bit more exposed. Long sleeves decorated with an impressive array of delicate floral embroidery nearly touched the floor and your skirt flared out a bit, hiding several thin layers of silk beneath its wool exterior. 

As the two of them helped you into it, you were giddy with happiness and you truly couldn't believe that this was happening. A gasp slips past your lips when you finally catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Reaching down, you pinch a part of your wrist still visible from underneath your sleeves just to ensure that yes--this is really happening. 

A smile erupts on your face as you laugh, looking down to admire this beautiful dress that had been crafted just for you. 

“So? What do you think?” Stefana wondered. 

You heard the ottoman beside you huff as Carmilla took a seat on it, a hairbrush in her hand and an array of different colored powders in her lap. “It’s…” your attention shifts from what’s she currently applying to her finger back up to Stefana, your eyes shining with gratitude. “It’s so beautiful Stefana… I… I’m not even sure I deserve something this extravagant,” you confess sheepishly. 

“Nonsense,” she quipped and popped open one of her jewelry boxes. “You’re a part of the family now, you deserve only the best I have to offer,” she took out a couple of pairs of earrings and a few necklaces and started to hold them up next to you, gauging which would be the best match. “And you make Lisa very happy,” she smiled, her expression earnest and heartfelt. “My brother is very fond of you as well--not only for that but… you make his family happy. He told me how thankful he was for you over breakfast.”

You felt your throat close up as tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to hold them back, lest you ruin all of Carmilla’s hard work. Clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, you gave Stefana another smile. “Thank you… I… words cannot even begin to describe how thankful I am for them… for all of you, really.”

Stefana bops the tip of your nose with her long nail, and she reaches over to grab the hairbrush Carmilla neglected to finish up your hair. “Little witch?” she asked you, her eyes hooded as she focused on her task.

“Yes?”

“You said you had some questions for me. Care to tell me what they were?”

A flush rose to your now blush-dusted cheeks and you fidgeted slightly in your seat. “Oh, yes, right… that. ”

“There’s no need to act so shy,” Carmilla said as she dusted on some powder to your eyelids. 

“I… I know,” you muttered and steeled your resolve as you looked at Stefana's reflection in the mirror. “You said that you’re the one who holds dominion over Caliacra, correct?”

Stefana nodded her head as she slid a necklace down your neck. “Yes. I’ve been ruling over Caliacra for a little over a year now.”

It was now or never. After taking another calming breath, you asked, “Have you ever heard of a coven of witches called the Sisters of Divine Teachings?”

Silence rang out into the room, Stefana’s hands freezing in place below your ears with earrings she was going to try on you. They dangled there for a moment before she snatched them away and tucked them back inside of their respective box. She was quiet as she dug around for another pair, her back turned to you and a long heavy sigh rumbling from her throat. “I should have known,” she quietly mused and turned around with the newest set she plucked from her collection. “I knew there had been something about you that felt familiar.” she settled on a large white diamond pair that dangled off the ends of white gold in the shape of a dewdrop. 

You would have whipped around in your seat, but Carmilla kept a stern grip on your shoulder as she continued to work on your face, so you could only wiggle around helplessly as the enthusiasm from hearing this overwhelmed you. 

“You knew them?” you cried out. “You knew my coven?”

She nodded her head and gingerly looped the earrings through your piercing. “Yes. You recall that I mentioned I took a year to do some traveling? Well, it was during that time I ran into them.” 

“How long ago was this?” you asked. “I don't remember ever seeing you in the village.”

“No,” Stefana replied and grabbed a hold of one of the colorful glass vials. “I would run into them whenever they visited the city. They knew I was a vampire as soon as they spotted me, and they ushered me over with insights and advice I’m still shocked they knew I needed.”

“That didn’t happen to be a group of older women?” you questioned.

Stefana looked down at you, amused, and nodded her head. “Indeed. Were they known to go around, scaring people half-to-death with their accurate readings?”

You laughed. “Those were a group of women that my grandmother had been close with. Oftentimes they came home with stories of using their abilities to help people seek things such as closure or even guidance, but there would be times where they’d con an unlucky traveler or two. It was only ever to those they could sense were trouble though, so I think it’s safe to say they weren’t pulling your leg.” you grinned as Stefana chuckled in delight.

“No, they were not. They were actually extremely helpful during my short time in Caliacra, and I ended up buying quite a bit of medicine from the younger witches that would come selling their wares,” she explained. “I could tell that the town respected them and appreciate all the hard work they were doing keeping everyone healthy.”

“Yes…” you sighed wistfully, but then your smile cracked a bit and your eyebrows creased together. “I heard… is it true that Caliacra was subjugated to pillaging and attacks after word got out of my coven?”

You notice her lips pursed together in discomfort, her hands falling to rest on your shoulders. “Unfortunately… apparently, the church began to propagate the rumor that everyone in Caliacra were devil worshippers and doomed to hell because they had associated with witches.” her grip on your shoulders tightened a bit. “My initial plans after rescuing Carmilla were to return to Caliacra since the warm coastal beaches were the perfect contrast to the cold harsh Styrian weather. But when we arrived, it was utter chaos.”

“The town had been pillaged and ransacked with a new man in office,” Stefana spat. “He had been appointed by the church, which had most of the residents quite worried seeing as how they had supported a coven for decades, if not centuries.”

“And they had every right to be nervous,” Carmilla added. “We quickly found out that the church had an iron grip on this town and any sort of defiance was met with very little mercy.”

“In fact,” Stefana continued. “Those self-righteous bastards had been working in tandem with vampires.” 

“What?” you exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

“Anyone overheard speaking about what happened to your coven as anything other than a just act of God,” she all but sneered. “Would be kidnapped, stolen during the night and sold to a pack of vampires that were nested within one of the nearby villages.” 

“How did you find this out? I never knew any of this happened…” you replied.

“Don’t look so ashamed, little witch,” Stefana cooed. “I’m glad that you decided to leave Caliacra. It took quite a while for things to regain a small semblance of normalcy. The town was in a state of disarray, with so many people going missing and attacks on people’s homes being so frequent.”

“I just don’t understand... ” you seethed and your hands clenched together in anger. “I just don’t understand how they can call  us  evil and then go and do such heinous things to innocent people… selling them off as though they were nothing but cattle… it’s disgusting.”

“I agree,” Stefana concurred. “So when Carmilla and I managed to uncover what was going on, we took care of that nest the following night.”

Carmilla giggled beside you, smacking her lips together as she added the final touches to your visage. “They hardly stood a chance.” 

“What about the church?” you wondered. “Surely the one running Caliacra would have noticed them go missing. I doubt they would have been pleased to lose such consistent income.”

“Oh we took care of them too,” Stefana clarified and spritzed you with a glass vial tinted light pink. 

Your nose twitched as she sprayed your neck, arms, and chest, and you were surprised to find that it smelled exactly like roses. 

“We paid them a visit that same night,” Carmilla said with a sly smile on her face, delicately placing rouge to your lips. “Drenched in blood and all, and we told them to head back to wherever it is they came from and tell their archbishop that the town was under new management.”

You blink, confused. “They never revealed to anyone that two  vampires had essentially taken over?” 

Carmilla instructs you to smack your lips together to get an even coating and you follow her lead and hear Stefana chuckle behind you. 

“We told them that if they ever told a single soul, that we would hunt them down and… well, may or may not have threatened to have them strung up by their insides.”

“Oh,” was all you said and nodded your head. “That’s definitely a powerful motivator to keep quiet.” 

“I’m glad that you agree,” Carmilla stated and leaned back in her seat, a sense of accomplishment lighting up her expression. 

“We’ve been running the town ever since,” Stefana finished as she added the final touches to your outfit. “The people were so thankful for what we had done, they all but begged us to stay so, we did, and what an honor it’s been.”

“It makes me so happy to see that my hometown has been left in the care of someone like you, Stefana,” you take a gentle hold of her hand and give it a squeeze. “I know my coven would be very grateful as well.”

She leans down and pecks the top of your forehead. “Earning the approval of someone such as yourself means so much to me, little witch. Thank you,” her long fangs gleamed as she beamed down at you, the sight causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Now,” she whispered in your ear. “Why don’t you take a look at the glorious Caliacra beauty sitting before you?”

When you finally gaze upon yourself in the mirror, face decorated to perfection, your hair was done up beautifully, and your ears and neck adorned by extravagant jewels… you had trouble even recognizing yourself. 

A delightful gasp rings out from you as you slowly reach up to delicately trace your fingers across the matching diamond necklace and earrings, and coquettishly flutter your eyelashes as you admire all of Carmilla’s handiwork. 

“You made me look so beautiful,” you muttered, voice light with whimsy. 

“You are beautiful.” Stefana corrected. 

A blush creeps up your neck at her compliment. “You flatter me too much, Stefana,” you replied breathlessly. 

“Nonsense,” she stated. “Seeing as you’re ready to court nearly everyone there,” she teased and pinched your cheek when you turned away from her in embarrassment. “Feel free to entertain yourself however you wish while Carmilla and I begin getting ready for the night. All I ask is that you have an accompanying guard with you should you wish to explore the castle grounds. Wouldn’t want you getting lost before tonight,” she said and then frowned as she mumbled, “Vlad would probably kill me…”

Your attention was instead drawn to one of the large bookshelves in a corner of the room, its shelves jam-packed with a varying assortment of novels you were certain predated even your own birth. 

“I think I’ll just occupy myself with those books,” you said quietly and carefully stood up to test out the new shoes they had given you as well. They were fairly flat, thankfully, and your confidence slowly grew as you walked over to take a seat on the black velvet chaise lounge that sat beside the dark wooden shelves.

Your finger traced over the spine of a few books, unsure of what to pick since half of them appeared to be in languages you had no idea even existed. You finally settled on one called Le Livres de la Cité des Dames, a translated version of an allegorical commentary written by someone named Christine de Pizan. You quickly found yourself immersed in the prose, her lovely writing telling the story of famous women throughout the ages coming to guide Christine in building a city dedicated to women, celebrating their accomplishments. Now, this is something you could get behind!

You had no idea how much time had passed, comfortably laying on that chaise lounge, only occasionally checking in on your hostesses when you heard Stefana debating about which pair of earrings to wear or heard Carmilla griping about her hair not cooperating with her vision. 

As you went to turn the page, you felt a tap on the top of your head and when you glanced up, you were face-to-face with Stefana.

Her eyelids were coated in a shimmering gold powder that made her look even more celestial, her lips a deep red rouge that contrasted greatly to her pale skin. Some of her long black hair had been pulled back by a clip made of white gold decorated in pristinely cut sapphires, that had a lovely sheer white veil trailing behind her on the end. Her dress was magnificent, pitch black in color with long, ruffled sleeves that were lined with layers of golden meshed lace. The same lace pattern was sewn around the edges of her top, which had been designed so that it hung off of her shoulders, and her skirt, which pooled around her feet. Her nails had been repainted a dark red and her neck, arms, and slightly pointed ears were adorned in dazzling gold jewelry. 

Carmilla stood beside her, looking equally as stunning. She wore a rich red dress whose sleeves were slit near the top of her shoulder so that the rest of the fabric appeared to dance fluidly around her while she walked. The insides were lined with black silk and the trim with black velvet. The skirt was long and trailed behind her, a deep cut down the middle allowing her legs to easily show through its many layers, similar to her sleeves. She had blushed her pale cheeks and opted for a lighter, more natural color on her lips while using reds and pinks around her eyes. Beautiful ruby earrings dangled off of her ears on a thin golden chain and a long, golden arm cuffs in the shape of roses coiled around both of her slender arms. Her nails had also been done up for the occasion, with Carmilla opting to go for pitch black to seemingly parallel Stefana’s own dress and nail colors. 

You could not help but stare at the two of them, in complete awe that these immortal goddesses allowed for a lowly mortal such as yourself to even gaze upon them. “You two look absolutely ravishing. I doubt any other couple is going to be able to compete with you.”

Stefana grinned and offered her hand to help you stand. “I’m sure that title will go to my brother and Lisa. However, I won’t complain about being a close second.” she offered the crook of her arms to both you and Carmilla and slowly escorted you out of the room. 

As the three of you walked down the halls of Stefana’s home, you noticed that you weren’t heading in the direction of her office, where the distance mirror was housed. 

“Shouldn’t we be heading back?” you asked and turned around to try and catch a glimpse of that parlor. 

“Where do you think we’re going, little witch?” Stefana queried. 

“But…” you said and frowned. “We’re not heading back to the distance mirror?”

Carmilla chuckled behind the lace fan she held within her hand. “Oh, you sweet little thing… it would be so rude for us to enter that way!”

Your eyes narrowed a bit as you squinted up at her in mild disbelief. “Wouldn’t… wouldn’t it be more efficient to travel that way?”

“It would,” Stefana replied. “But for occasions such as these, one must arrive on the premises with a bit of finesse,” she gave you a smirk and finally stopped at the end of a hallway that was blocked off by an enormous wooden door.

Two guards stood posted, their faces hidden behind their metal helmets and when they noticed Stefana, they simultaneously bowed before the three of you. When they finished with their greeting, they slammed their lances against the hard stone floor and the door slowly creaked open.

Waiting for you outside was an ornate carriage made of sleek black wood, covered in golden decals. Two large black stallions stood at the ready, huffing and puffing as the coachman adjusted their reins from his plush seat. 

“Wow,” you gasped and stumbled a bit as you followed Stefana’s lead to the stairs that lead inside the luscious caravan. You felt your heart begin to hammer in excitement as you bundled up the edges of your dress to prevent it from getting dirty and ascended the stairs, finding a spot besides Stefana, who sat in between you and Carmilla. 

Stefana tapped the roof once and after a moment, you heard the coachman make a clicking sound and the carriage surged forward as the two stallions whinnied and kicked into gear. 

You had never been a huge fan of riding in these things, but the seats in Stefana’s personal carriage were so comfortable that you were almost certain you could have fallen asleep in there. Gently, you pushed aside the velvet curtain to get a peek outside, surprised to find that twilight was already beginning to creep on the horizon and the moon was slowly starting to appear within the ever-darkening sky. 

The trip was much shorter than you had anticipated and before long, the carriage was slowing down to a halt. 

“We’ve arrived, mistress,” you heard the coachman say. 

“Excellent,” Stefana replied and pointed to the door to your left. “Exit through there, little witch. If you need any help, Christopher, my coachman, will be there to assist you.”

You nodded your head and pulled down on the golden handle, carefully stepping down the ladder as slowly as you could, even if your whole body was humming in anticipation. 

When you rounded past the carriage, the sight before you left you breathless. Castlevania had been transformed from its usual gothic self into something that looked like it came straight out of a children’s fairytale. Large red banners fluttered in the gentle ocean breeze and you saw that even the windowsills had been decorated with golden chains or even a string of various flowers. Colorful bouquets sat upon every step that lead to the large ornate doors of the castle, which were currently ajar, allowing the warm, energetic glow that emanated from inside to seep into the chilled air. 

The sound of several slamming doors snapped you out of your trance and you realized that the three of you weren’t the first to arrive. Dozens of carriages were scattered around you and the distinct cry of horses from down the hill alerted you that the influx of guests was far from over. 

It suddenly dawned on you that you were about to enter a castle filled with some of the most illustrious people within all of Wallachia--within all of Europe, if not the world  --and on top of that, they were Lisa and Vlad’s family… and possibly also vampires.

You swallowed nervously and took a step back, this whole thing beginning to feel a lot more daunting than it had a few hours prior. A sudden gentle grip on your shoulder caused you to jump, but you relaxed when you found Stefana standing beside you, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, little witch?”

You took a shaky breath and chuckled quietly to yourself. “I think… I think I’m just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be,” she replied and urged you forward with a gentle push. “This is a night of celebration. Just be genuine, just… be you. I promise that everything else will come naturally,” she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “How about we make our grand entrance, hmm?”

A smile tugged on the corners of your lips and you nodded your head, taking a tight grip of your skirts as you started to confidently trek up the ornate stairs of Castlevania to the party awaiting you inside. 

[aiimaginesbts]

An Unexpected Insight

A/N: I interrupt the normal (if sparse and irregular) fanfics with a Mr Love fanfic I wrote for the Mid Year Contest! This is my first Mr Love fanfic and it didn’t go through a beta-reader, so please be kind to me. 

It's a story I made up for Gavin and MC's high school time inspired by the Campus Date. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome as per usual :D

Reader x Gavin

Genres: Fluff

Word count: 1,935 words

Disclaimer/Copyright. Photo from Mr Love: Dream Date.

There was something about autumn that tinged everything with a touch of warm color, like a painter had brushed everything with a brush dipped in yellow-orange paint. The park that I cut through on the way back from school was an especially good example of this. Home to countless trees shedding their leaves, the whole scenery before me was bathed in a luxurious golden hue. However, today, there was an extra delight waiting for me amongst the beautiful yellow and red leaves.

As I passed by one of the few maidenhair trees in the park, my ears perked up at a series of high-pitched barking. My head spun wildly around, trying to locate the source of the sound until I found it under the shade provided by the leafy branches. “Oh, look at you!” I squealed at the sight of a small puppy in a box next to the tree trunk, yapping for all it was worth. Running towards it at first, then as I approached I slowed my steps down, gauging its reaction to my proximity. Thankfully, it didn’t seem scared of me at all. Rather, its response was the opposite. If dogs could smile, this one definitely was, and I could see excitement dancing in its dark brown eyes.

Crouching down next to the box, I held out my hand for it to sniff. The box was quite large, and the tiny thing could barely hook its front paws over the edge. Nevertheless, it leaned forward to smell my hand, and quickly started to lick my palm all over. The sensation of its wet, rough tongue made me giggle uncontrollably. “Hey, that tickles!”

After spending some time petting and playing with it, I gathered the courage to lift the puppy out of the box. It was only then that I noticed two bowls; one white and the other blue in color in the corner of the thick cardboard box. “So, someone is taking care of you, after all,” I commented to no one in particular, noting that some of the water and food left in the bowls had been consumed. Now that it was free of its four-walled confines, the puppy was even more excitable than before. It was hard for me to double-check under its fur, but I confirmed it after struggling a little with the puppy; it wasn’t wearing any collar.

For a while I played with the adorable baby dog, letting it stretch its legs for a bit by allowing it to run around the tree. As the sky was growing dark, I had to regretfully return it to its box and rush back home. “You don’t have an owner, but someone is looking after you,” I thought to myself as I walked away. “Hmm.”

Every afternoon after school was spent in the park with the little puppy from then on. I refrained from giving it a name, wary of growing attached to it. Yet I found myself falling in love with it anyway. Naturally, I wondered who was feeding it. The bright yellow ginkgo leaves were gradually making their way towards the ground as days passed, and at some point, I noticed that the big box was newly lined with some thick blanket, giving the puppy warmth in the progressively cooling days and nights. However, I never managed to even catch a glimpse of this mysterious caretaker. My curiosity on the matter grew each day, but I always managed to miss this person somehow, even when I came earlier than I usually would on the weekend.

The golden opportunity for me to unravel this mystery popped up unexpectedly just two days later, when I was stopping by on my way home from school as usual. Lifting the puppy up into my arms, I immediately noticed that the bowls had not been filled like they usually were. “Oh!” I eyed the empty containers more excitedly than I would look at bowls filled with diamonds. “The person didn’t come here yet?” I asked the puppy. As if it understood me perfectly, it let out a sad whine, making my heart cry out for it. “Are you hungry?” It tilted its head adorably in response, but of course, it didn’t say anything. Then it began to fight its way out of my embrace.

At first, I was confused. I thought we had built a rapport this past ten days, so why did it want to get away from me? “Oh! Do you need to relieve yourself?” Sure enough, once I lowered it down to the ground, it quickly sped off to the tree after next to do its business. Watching from afar, I chuckled to myself. Good thing I figured it out in time, otherwise it might have let itself go all over me. As I kept an eye on it so that it didn’t venture out of my sight, I considered buying it some food. But what if the unknown person who had been feeding it came while I was gone? Crossing my arms and tapping my foot in thought, I turned the options over and over in my mind. I’d been dying to meet this person ever since I’d met the puppy. On the other hand, I didn’t want the poor animal to starve.

I stood there for a while, watching the baby dog prance around, then finally decided on a compromise. There was still over an hour before I had to go home. At the moment, the puppy seemed more eager to play around than it was to eat. So, I made up my mind to wait until the very last minute possible for the person to show up, giving myself just enough time to run and buy some food if he or she ended up not coming. Recalling the nearest pet store that I knew, I mentally calculated the distance and time it would take for me to run to the shop and get back.

Resolution made, I sighed in relief, taking a seat on the bench conveniently placed underneath the lush branches. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. The pleasant weather and peaceful atmosphere at the park made it the perfect place for an afternoon nap.

If I hadn’t heard some rustling and felt a light breeze sweeping over me, I might never have woken up until it was too late. As it was, the chill jolted me awake, reaching to wrap my light sweater more tightly around my body reflexively. My sudden jostling must have been startling, because it caused a jumping movement next to me, drawing my attention immediately.

Crouched down beside me was a young man with straight brown hair, sporting the uniform from the same high school I attended, scratching the puppy under its chin. At first, I couldn’t see his face, and when I peered downwards to take a peek, he dipped his head down even further, groaning out loud at being discovered. Deciding that revealing his identity was inevitable, he lifted his chin up. Upon seeing his face, my heart leapt with shock, then my head tilted in confusion and after that, my body contracted a little with fear.

“Uhm… Gavin?” He and I weren’t in the same class, so I’d heard about him from other students rather than know him personally. The things I’d heard so far weren’t very encouraging. He was infamous as a troublemaker, not only in our school, but it was considered general knowledge around the whole area. My classmates had whispered among themselves about how he was always getting into fights, not just with fellow students and teachers, but with the less savory characters around the neighborhood as well. These gossips were repeated loudly in my head like an involuntary warning siren as my eyes looked him over. Fresh cuts and bruises on his face and hands were indisputable proof of the rumors. Did he just get out of a fight? Even though I was scared, I managed to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” He responded, befuddled by my question. Unsure how to answer him, I started to reach for one of the cuts on his handsome face. Before I could touch him, he backed away, as though he was the more frightened one between the two of us. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said gruffly.

Not daring to prod him further, I gazed around for another topic. “Oh!” I saw that the bowls had been filled up. “Are you the one who has been feeding the puppy?”

Instead of answering, he bristled, like a threatened dog. It made me want to laugh, despite myself. Gavin was unexpectedly cute. “What’s it to you?”

“I was just wondering why he hasn’t taken it home, instead of taking the time to come and feed it here every day,” I shrugged, pretending I didn’t know it was him.

“My apartment doesn’t allow pets,” Gavin answered, then flinched when he realized that he’d given himself away. Turning to me defensively, he reflected the question back to me. “What about you? Why haven’t you taken it home instead of playing with it here every day?”

My mouth gaped in surprise. Had he been watching me? I never noticed. However, I knew that he would probably jump ten paces back if I let on that I’d noticed his slip-up. While that would be beyond amusing to watch, strangely I didn’t want to drive him away. “My father is allergic to fur.” I smiled apologetically. “It’s really nice of you to look after it, though.”

Gavin stood up, refusing to meet my eyes. Was he… blushing? It must be the wind, I told myself. It was pretty windy today. My cheeks felt a little raw from it, too. At least he wasn’t running away. After a pause, he cleared his throat. “The shelter looks overcrowded. And this puppy is already so tiny. If I let it get any skinnier than it is, some naughty kids and bigger dogs are gonna bully it.”

Lips pursed, I looked down at the puppy, noting the happy wag in its tail, its sleek coat of fur and healthy body. It wasn’t skinny at all. I smiled to myself. Although I’d heard stories about Gavin bullying weaker students, here he was, wanting to ensure that a defenseless animal wouldn’t get hurt. “You’re really kinder than I thought.”

“What?”

I lifted my chin up, then shook my head, not wanting to repeat what I’d murmured under my breath. “Can I help you take care of it?” I asked without much thought. Although Gavin still scared me, I couldn’t deny that he was intriguing.

“There’s no need for two people to care for it. Plus, I found someone who’s gonna take it in after they finish renovating their house in a week or two,” Gavin’s answer was blunt and reflexive, as if he was used to being on his own and pushing everyone away. He paused, then stole a look at me from the corner of his eye. “But if you really want to… I guess that’s fine.” His agreement brought a smile to my face, but it made him pricklier than ever. “I gotta go.” Without giving me a chance to answer, he dashed off like the wind, falling gingko leaves fluttering about in his wake.

I watched him leave in silence, immersed in thought. Gavin might be dangerous and unapproachable, but maybe he wasn’t as horrible as the rumors made him out to be. Even if he wasn’t kind to humans, at least he was kind to animals. Someone like that surely couldn’t be all that bad.

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read this! If you like it and want to vote for me, here is the link to my comment!

For my BTS readers, please look forward to my Jimin one-shot for the Summer Collab on Saturday at 10am KST!

[tracies-tales]

Late Night

Dan parked his car in front of the Grump Space house, running his hand through his hair to brush the untamed locks from his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten his phone, much less not realized it until an hour after he’d already left after the day’s recording session. After ensuring it wasn’t just under his car seat, he figured the next best place to look was at work. It was getting late, but he had a key to the place. Not that it mattered, because Arin’s car still happened to be in the driveway.

Dan felt his heart flutter at the thought of being able to see Arin this late. It was always a little depressing having to part ways with his best friend even after long work days. He stared at the car for a few moments, pondering what his co-host was still doing there, anyway. He snorted to himself as he wondered if Arin had also left his phone behind. He shook his head and bounced to the front door. He opened it and looked around, not seeing hide nor hair of Arin. He walked to the door which led into the basement and poked his head into the staircase, calling, “Arin?”

“Yeah?” came Arin’s muffled, deadpan response.

Dan’s brow furrowed before he pranced down the stairs, glancing around as he made his way to the editing room. They were definitely alone in the house. Arin was hunched over in front of a computer screen, a pair of headphones half over his head. Arin looked over and made a lizard-like blink as Dan pushed the door ajar.

Dan looked down at Arin, all thought of his phone disappearing when he saw how worn out Arin looked. Dan said, “Wow, you look like shit. The hell are you still doing here, man?”

“Thanks,” Arin drawled before looking back to the screen. “Matt and Ryan challenged me to edit one of their videos because I mocked them as they were working on one of ours too much.”

“Oh, good job. Way to piss off our editors,” Dan grinned. “But seriously, you have to do it right now?”

“Yes, Daniel, I told them I could totally do it in one night. Not like I haven’t edited footage before.”

Dan rolled his eyes and walked closer to rub Arin’s back. He tried not to get too caught up in the moment, saying, “Just bite the bullet and save the rest for tomorrow.”

“No, I have to prove to them I still know how to get this shit done.”

“They do know, Arin. They were just pushing your buttons.”

Arin rubbed his hands over his face, ending up knocking the headphones backwards and off his head. “Uuugh,” Arin groaned, not bothering to pick them up.

“Come on, Big Cat, you gotta get home,” Dan prompted, patting Arin’s back for emphasis.

“I don’t think I can drive home like this, dude. I had a late night last night, too, and now with this bullshit...” he waved a hand idly at the computer.

“Then just sleep here, we’ve got couches,” Dan suggested.

“Yeah, guess I better,” Arin said, stretching his arms over his head. Dan couldn’t help but watch the muscles flex; he and Arin had been working out more recently, and it was doing wonders for Arin’s tone. Then the familiar scent of Arin’s body odor hit him, and he couldn’t help but crack a grin and wave a hand in front of his nose.

“Maybe you ought to take a bath in the sink, too,” Dan giggled. He had actually grown a little fond of Arin’s sweaty nature, or maybe immune was a better word.

Arin yawned and said, “It’s too late for me, I’m drowning in my own body fluids.”

“Gross,” Dan’s nose wrinkled as he crouched down to heave Arin half out of the chair, “now get on up.”

“But Daaan,” Arin whined, only partially standing on his own and letting Dan carry some of his weight.

“No buts, unless they’re the cute and sexy kind,” Dan smirked, escorting Arin to the door. 

“Then I like, totally qualify,” Arin retorted as he began to veer them towards the studio with the Grumps couch where they did their recording.

Dan said, “Oh I know you do,” before he could really help himself.

Thankfully, Arin seemed to brush it off as some of their normal banter, saying, “Can’t get enough of it, huh? I know you like a guy with a big butt, Dan.”

“Why else do you think I’ve stayed here the last five years?” Dan forced a smile onto his face as he used a foot to prod the door of the recording studio open. When they were in front of the couch, Arin practically collapsed into it, but he had also made sure to wrap an arm around Dan, which dragged him down for the ride. Dan hit the couch with an, “Oomph,” and was about to make a jabbing remark about it before Arin had rested his head on Dan’s shoulder.

Dan short-circuited for a few seconds. He and Arin hugged all the time, but these sort of moments of physical contact were much more few and far between. He left his arm around Arin as he tried to figure out how he was going to get up. He heard Arin say, “You make a comfortable pillow, dude.”

So much for standing, Dan thought. “Thanks, it’s all the lankiness and zero fat deposits in my arms that make all that good cushioning,” Dan chuckled.

Arin yawned and shrugged, wriggling closer into Dan as he mumbled, “S’comfy to me.” He shifted his arms to wrap around Dan’s torso. Dan became afraid that Arin might be able to hear his hammering heart from the position his head was in, but if Arin noticed, he didn’t comment.

“I’m glad,” Dan said, looking down at the top of Arin’s head. He hesitated before he carefully adjusted the arm around Arin to bend up and begin carding gently through Arin’s hair. He dragged his fingertips along the top of Arin’s head in what he hoped was as relaxing to Arin as it was for him.

Arin mumbled, “Fuck, that feels awesome,” into Dan’s shoulder.

Dan smiled, “I’m glad.” 

After several minutes of silence, while Dan was trying to discern whether or not Arin had fallen asleep, Arin shifted to look up at him. Dan’s eyes crinkled into a grin at Arin’s tired expression, admiring how adorable he looked when his hair was slightly mussed up. Arin said, “Thanks, Dan,” softly before stretching his neck up to give Dan a kiss on the cheek. His scruff sent sparks flying through Dan’s skin, landing immediately in his stomach which erupted into a fountain of flutters.

Dan couldn’t even remember how to speak for a solid five seconds, finally able to wheeze out, “You’re welcome,” as Arin drifted off to sleep nestled in Dan’s arms.

Dan considered his options before he shifted, angling himself parallel to the couch with one leg hanging over the edge. Dan pulled Arin over him as he tried to slide his other leg beneath him. Arin nearly unconsciously adjusted himself according to Dan’s movements until they were situated laying down. Dan’s stomach was still a flurry of butterflies, and there was a smile plastered on his face which he knew wouldn’t go away even after his cheeks started to hurt.

Fuck it, Dan thought, I’ll find my phone tomorrow.

[classywastelandbread-blog]

Honored Spirits - Bathtime

Not as much noodleage and certainly not as funny as the other chapters, but still something silly. 

Once more told more from McCree’s point of view so you don’t really hear the cat-noodles. 

It was a long...well, after the third month McCree had lost track. He thought it could have been four or maybe five months, but certainly less than a full year.

Well, however long it had been, it had been lo-o-o-o-ong. It was difficult work weeding out the underground but it was certainly worth it to see the look on Hanzo’s face (and Genji’s, but Genji’s was certainly less...appealing to McCree than his brother’s) when he was able to walk unchallenged into his ancestral home.

It was a good look for him, but McCree had always thought that anything on Hanzo was a good look for him.

Except sadness. Sadness didn’t but...well...it was certainly a good thing that Hanzo couldn’t hear his thoughts like he could his dragons.

Once they had taken back the Shimada Castle (or Estate...or Shrine...or Temple...whatever it was called) they had celebrated, albeit with extreme caution. Just because everything seemed quiet didn’t mean that it was, after all. But still, Hanzo had shown the team something they could all get behind: the onsen.

It was such a cliche that the enormous space had one and yet...there it was. In the past when McCree had visited Japan he had very briefly visited one but unfortunately that had been more for business than pleasure. Now was the first time he had actually been able to go and in all honesty, he was quite excited. Except of course, for one issue.

Nudity.

In a traditional onsen the guests were completely naked - there were no towels or swim clothes for modesty. And the Shimada Clan had been nothing but traditionalists...McCree could almost say that with a straight face, even.

Though clearly reluctant, the brothers grudgingly allowed them their clothes in the onsen, though McCree could see how much it pained them - the fixture was, after all, ancient. After a very in-depth discussion of What Must Not Be Done, the team was able to enjoy themselves. With swim clothes on, there was no need to separate by gender and so they all lounged comfortably in the largest pool, together as a not-quite-family.

Still, there was something left to be desired. McCree felt dirty walking into the mineral-rich water in his swim trunks and not in the good way.

That was what led him to the onsen late at night when no one else would be there. He didn’t want to deprive anyone of their relaxation, after all. Not that he was...ashamed of his body, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he wanted to subject anyone to that.

Except maybe Hanzo.

If he was willing, of course.

(God Almighty did he hope he was.)

To his surprise, the onsen was lit by strings of paper lanterns and little glass lamps lining the stone path. A little disappointing was the realization that the bathhouse was lit - someone was there.

Just in case he loosened Peacekeeper in her holster and crept along. One could never be too careful, after all. It was the gentle bluish glow from one of the trees that made him relax. Seeing his hand lift from Peacekeeper, Soba glided over and twisted around him in midair.

“Hey bud,” he said, lifting his hand to brush along its cool turquoise scales. The spirit doubled back and rubbed its face against his wrist like a cat requesting attention. Obligingly he rubbed his knuckles under the hard scales of its jaw the way it liked and let its long tail coil around his shoulders. “Where’s your friend?”

Soba tossed its head and drifted away toward the gate he had been aiming for. Ah. And where Soba and Udon were...most likely Hanzo was as well. When he hesitated, Soba drifted back toward him and nudged him with its nose.

“Alright,” he said with a laugh. “I jus’ don’t wanna impose if Han’s wanting peace and quiet.”

“Impose away,” Hanzo’s voice said dryly from the other side of the gate. “I wouldn’t object to company. It’s a lovely evening for a bath.”

Hoping that the unreliable lighting hid his blush, McCree chuckled and stepped toward the gate. His mouth immediately went dry when he caught sight of Hanzo - dressed not in the plain black swim trunks he had worn the times he had soaked in the onsen with the team, but only in a plain white towel from the bathhouse.

“It seems like we had the same idea,” McCree said with a breathless laugh. Hanzo’s face was unreadable as Soba twisted and twined around his legs. Udon was nowhere to be seen, though Hanzo’s tattoo was matte and faded - it was “out” but seemingly not nearby.

Hanzo cracked a slightly smile, looking away first. “It felt wrong to bathe with clothes on,” he explained almost shyly. “Not when I have many good memories of spending time with my brother here.” He stiffened slightly, his face turning bright red. “Not…not like...that!”

Surprised, McCree couldn’t help but laugh. It felt like he hadn’t laughed like that in ages - strain from the extended mission that hadn’t been soothed away by the hot waters of the onsen. “Didn’t think so,” he said when he had calmed himself. Hanzo was still blushing bright red and shifted on his feet. “Ah,” he said awkwardly. “I’ll just...um..” he gestured vaguely toward the bathhouse and Hanzo nodded.

They separated - Soba followed McCree for a while, flirting with the cool evening breezes. It split off and doubled back toward Hanzo at the door to the bathhouse, tossing its head with what could very loosely be called a smile. Smiling, McCree made a finger-gun at it and with a silent sound that McCree thought was a chirp it twisted as if dodging the bullet. It tossed its head at him again, playfully baring its fangs and talons before twisting away once more.

Laughing to himself, McCree slipped into the bathhouse. He found the cubbies near the shower stalls and began stripping quickly, folding his clothes neatly when he was done. His chestplate he leaned against the wall with his boots, both unable to fit into the small box, and carefully undid the mechanisms of his prosthetic arm. It could withstand a good soaking, but this was a chance to actually relax.

He ignored the little voice inside him that cautioned against it - what would Hanzo think?

The showers were cold and he bit back a yelp. Giving himself a moment to steel himself, he dipped back under the water with gritted teeth. He made sure to wash thoroughly from head to toe. Just because he could, he stole some of Hana’s pink strawberry shampoo and body wash.

As he was rinsing off, he heard Soba come back. “Hey bud,” Jesse said over his shoulders as he dumped water over his hair. “I’ll be just a sec, okay?’

There was no noise to show that the dragon had heard, but it was foolish to think he was being completely ignored. McCree smiled as he turned around and found the spirit very carefully holding a large towel in its jaws.

Careful not to flash the creature, McCree took the towel with a smile. “Thanks.”

Soba bobbed its head excitedly and pranced in place like a puppy waiting to someone to play with it. Its ears flipped toward McCree’s missing arm but after a split second of a glance, it was peering up at McCree’s face with its sky-blue eyes.

“Alright,” McCree said with a hearty laugh. “I think I’m ready.” It was difficult to wrap the towel around his waist with one arm so he settled for holding it in front of his junk as he walked.

Hanzo glanced at him when he exited, already submerged in the water. “Usually, you leave the towel in the bathhouse, cowboy,” Hanzo teased as he reclined in the warm water. The bluish water obscured the features of his body save for what lay above the water; he had tied his hair up into a neat topknot to keep it out of the way. “And you typically tie your hair up.”

Smiling crookedly, McCree wiggled his truncated arm. “Well, I’m missing one so you’ll have to forgive me.” He grunted as he sat down at the edge, dipping his feet into the water. “As for the towel, you can thank your noodle there that you aren’t watching my junk flapping around.”

McCree flinched; what a dumb thing to say. Still, he tried to recover by shifting the towel aside and slipping into the water with a relieved sigh. He watched Soba walk across the rippling surface as surely as if it were solid ground.

“They do that,” Hanzo said dryly. “And don’t say what religious figure it may remind you of; need I remind you of the Santa Claus incident?”

“You can’t blame me for that,” McCree said with an embarrassed chuckle.

Hanzo’s smirk was deadly. “I can and I will,” he said as haughtily as the lord he had been before shit went down. He leaned back, showing off the lines of his muscles, highlighted by the glow of the paper lanterns and the water from the baths. It was a shame that his tattoo was nearly invisible without the presence of his dragon spirits.

Carefully, McCree tried to emulate Hanzo’s posture and stretch out to relax. Soba was bobbing its head emphatically where it had perched on a nearby rock. “What’s it saying?”

“Soba is commenting on your hair,” Hanzo said after a brief pause. “It’s suggesting that I help you pin it up so no one has to swim with strands of hair floating around.”

Chuckling, McCree pushed himself into a sitting position. “Have at it,” McCree said. “I can’t do it myself so if you’re not….bothered…”

The water around them sloshed as Hanzo moved closer. McCree tried not to whimper at the feel of Hanzo’s strong, calloused hands brushing up his neck. Just an assassin putting up my hair, McCree thought hysterically to himself. He hoped that Hanzo wasn’t aware of how...interested his body was in his proximity.

Beneath the water, Hanzo’s legs brushed his hips and McCree tipped his head back slightly to give the archer easier access to his hair. All too soon it was over and McCree smiled at Hanzo over his shoulder. “Thanks, partner.”

It was probably just a trick of the light or the heat of the onsen but Hanzo almost seemed to be blushing. McCree bit back a comment about how adorable he looked.

They were still so close and Hanzo showed no indication that he was ready to move away. That was fine, of course, with McCree. He was perfectly fine with Hanzo’s presence. As if they weren’t both naked in the same bath, they sat as close as they typically would during their drinking nights.

“This is nice,” McCree said awkwardly, leaning his arms over the lip of the onsen. His truncated arm lay behind Hanzo but that could simply be chalked up as coincidence if the archer decided he was opposed to the idea.

It seemed that he wasn’t - even, he leaned closer, as close as he would when he shared McCree’s serape, as close as he would while bracing against the brisk sea air of the base.

Now, though, it was different. Now it was flesh beneath McCree’s arm. Now they were both naked.

He hoped that the water was murky enough that Hanzo wouldn’t notice McCree’s...interest in the situation. Turning his head to ask more about Soba’s smug head-bobbing, he found that Hanzo’s face was also tipped toward him. They were so close, just a few inches separating them.

If anything, Hanzo seemed surprised by the proximity but he didn’t recoil. His eyes flicked back and forth between McCree’s and his lips. A blush rose to his cheeks - well, a darker one because they were both flushed by the lovely heat of the onsen.

The water sloshed as Hanzo shifted, twisting his torso so that he was more facing McCree. Hesitantly, Hanzo lifted his arm and brushed it against McCree’s cheek. Leaning into the caress, McCree slowly leaned closer -

Suddenly, the water around them exploded and the two of them would deny their terrified shrieks until their dying days. It was certainly lucky that the Shimada spirits weren’t truly creatures of the earth otherwise Udon would be very much dead.

(The strangest thing was that he almost thought he could hear a voice like a distant echo in a cave saying, look, I am pretending to be a crocodile!)

McCree still got a sharp bite for his troubles. It didn’t break the skin but damn, did it hurt. Hanzo swore under his breath at the dragons - Soba seemed agitated, baring its teeth at Udon who was tossing and turning in the churning waters beneath the other spirit’s perch. At a sharp motion, the two of them disappeared into glittering blue mist and the tattoos that bound them to Hanzo returned to his body.

For a long moment the both of them stared at each other with wide eyes, panting at the sudden spike of adrenaline. “I need a cold shower,” McCree muttered.

Hanzo nodded wordlessly. “I...will join you.”

The two of them climbed out of the onsen on shaky legs and leaning on each other - perhaps a little too closely - stumbled into the bathhouse.

Where they found the rest of the team, who had come running at their screams.

It was Genji’s turn to scream.

[btsbloodtearssquees]

Outskirts: Part One

~ Requested 1 2 3 4   The confinement of a castle encourages hostility between an aspiring young scholar and heir to the throne... Prince Seokjin...

The rain pattered down heavily onto the carefully tended grounds as you sat listening to the irregularity of knives and forks clinking and the occasional attempt at conversation down your end of the table. To think you would be staying here to study for so long; the company was not exactly what you would have described as endearing. However, you had already sussed out the large library and eagerly awaited burying yourself in its abundant supply of books. The people would merely be an obstacle you would take care to tread carefully around.  You lost concentration on what the young ambassador’s son was saying when the king’s brother slammed his fists suddenly down on the table and stood up; delicately removing the embroidered napkin from his collar. “I've heard enough of this idiocy. Ronshore does not need an alliance with Matherton. We're stretched as it is.” “Which is why we need assistance,” the king retorted back, red faced. “And throw your son so early into this disaster?” “Early!? The boy is twenty three!” “The boy is also right here,” one of the young men sitting at the other end with the higher ups spoke. “And I'm not prepared to begin my political endeavours with a marriage.” His uncle regarded the king with satisfaction. “Don't delude yourself, Seokjin, you've been in this game for years.” “Indeed,” he wiped his mouth after a large bite of meat, “ushered behind your skirts.” There were a few sniggers around the table before the king put an end to the conversation by saying something whispered to his son and raising his goblet to his mouth in anger. You returned attention to your food and wished away the time you could leave this awkward dinner. Apparently the king's brother had decided to stay to finish his meal and was now unfortunately paying attention to your end. “I must say Lady Y/N-” you cringed “-it is an honour to have you come study our resources. I hope you'll be satisfied with your stay.” You swallowed away the bad taste in your mouth and bowed your head graciously. “Thank you, your grace. I am sure I will.” You were painfully aware of the attention on you. Catching the prince as he looked away and rolled his eyes into his cup, you felt immediate dislike towards him. What a spoilt, arrogant prick… After what seemed like an eternity (a five course meal with company who loved to take their time), you were free to return to the chambers set aside for you and relax in the twilight hours of your first day. You glanced around it in satisfaction; your status having allowed you spacious quarters yet lacking the eccentric elaboration that you so detested. It was clean and airy and you had a wonderful view of the garden.  Settling down at the writing desk tucked neatly in the corner of the large main window, you opened a fresh notebook and carefully wrote down the date at the top of the page. Then you began your account of your day’s experiences. It was not considered part of your scholarly duties, however you found it to be a personal form of relaxation as you decluttered your mind of memories you were afraid to forget. The evening’s dinner was not one, however you wrote it down anyway. Eventually, a maid came in at one point to prepare the rooms for nightfall and after the guilty pleasure of reading your book, you fell asleep in the King’s castle. It had briefly crossed your mind in your sleepy state that you didn’t know how long it would be before you were to leave this place. The books better be worth it. 

------------------------------ The argumentative dinner conversations were definitely worth the amount of information you were now exposed to. The castle library was the equivalent to six stories high and ballroom size wide, and so full that there were a few giant crates off to the side which held the excess. It was by far the largest in the country - and so you had heard - the largest on the continent, making it extraordinarily easy to get lost in when you were a scholar like yourself. Lost in the books. It was only for meals, baths, sleep and a little bit of fresh air that you were able to be peeled away. You felt sure that you’d be able to analyse and update the world histories quite adequately from here. Stiff from a full four days practically living in the library, you stood up and stretched and attempted to focus your eyes on the other side of the room. Suddenly curious about the other people reading around you, you noticed for the first time how many scholars there actually were - and also how many ladies were spending their afternoon leisurely reading. What criteria did the castle have for emitting people into it, you wondered. You had been accepted quite easily, although you had often wondered why. Your parents were respectable but not beneficial acquaintances for the royal party. Shrugging these thoughts away, you left your position and wandered out into the hallway with the vague idea of walking outside. An opposing option triggered your curious brain however and you found yourself leaving the familiar walkways in the idea of exploring the castle. You had never been invited to do so, but you figured no one would be able to tell one lost guest from another… The layout was quite interesting. It appeared to you as an endless length of chambers and parlour rooms, three music rooms, the main hall, the library of course, three servants floors and this looked to be the end of the castle housing the permanent residents… Interested, you began to step inside an open room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You jumped and turned to see the owner of the voice; clutching your heart. Embarrassed to see that you had been caught by the prince himself, you narrowed your eyes in defense and straightened in attempt to distract from the blush covering your cheeks. He narrowed his eyes back and reached behind you to shut the door you had been going through. “I was just looking around my home for the next few months.” “Your home?” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and scoffed. “This is exactly why I have a problem with you leeching lowlifes. You prance in here claiming the entire space for your own and lounge around reading books all day to ‘justify’ your being here.” “Leeching lowlifes?” You exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind?! I’m updating the World Histories as accurately as possible so your future grandchildren can better understand our world!” The prince looked away skeptically. “I don’t care what the dickens you’re doing here, I just want you out. If I had my say, I would never have opened it up to the public like a free museum.” This man was outrageous. Leeching?! Coming from someone who lived on their father’s power, money and status?? “It most certainly isn’t free,” you retorted, embarrassment forgotten and outrage filling your inner being. “I went through weeks of filling out papers and meeting with people, and now that I’m here - I’m left to tolerate the immaturity and arrogance of one who stands so tall.” The prince’s eyes flashed in anger before revealing a cold smirk. “From what I hear, Lady Y/N - you were emitted fairly quickly. Is it not then immature and arrogant to complain over your advantage?” You flushed but felt yourself become even more overpowered by the feeling of frustration. “Spoken so keenly by the very man who complains about sharing his thousand room house with a few less well off than him while waiting for his father to die so he can finally become relevant!” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realised the mistake and quickly looked away from him. The hallway filled with silence and for the first time you felt a sickening fear about what the prince would do to you. Your heartbeat was loud - so loud you were sure that he could hear it. His voice was quiet and bitter. “The next time you overstep your mark will prove fatal, my lady. I would watch my tongue around people with more power than yourself.” You watched him walk away with your still over-beating heart rattling in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. It was a miracle that he had chosen to act leniently. On shaking legs, you headed back the way you had come. “You have to be careful, Y/N,” you scolded yourself in a harsh voice. “Or you’ll be thrown out the door in dishonour and with no scholarly success.” Convinced that you would never concentrate on study now, you retired early to your bed chambers and proceeded to write about your horrifying encounter with the prince in your quickly filling notebook. ----------------------- The evening meals had been dreadful to begin with, but now they consisted of a more personal tension between you and Prince Seokjin several seats across from your position. As you soon learnt, it was better to avoid looking in that direction at all lest you caught his deathly glare; even finding the ambassador’s son and his talk of courting women more comfortable than his royal highness’ hostility. Why was it that authoritative people were always so sensitive? The blush returned to your cheeks. Perhaps your final statement had been less than considerate… Practically gasping for mouthfuls of non-tense air, you loosened your garment slightly as you hurried out onto the dusk-lit grounds. Too much confinement over three long weeks, you would have to learn to space your studies out. The inkling of a cold was already beginning to tickle your throat. “M’lady? Can I help you?” You had wandered into the royal stables and were admiring their fine horses, not really expecting any of the staff there to pay you any heed. You looked up into the face of a brown and silver haired man who had weathered skin from years spent outdoors. There were smile lines by his eyes, making you automatically smile. “I was just admiring them, thank you.” He relaxed and took a position beside you in front of one of the stall doors. “Yes, they’re a fine bunch, m’lady.” “Do they get ridden a lot?” “Oh yes, even if none of the household take ‘em out, we be sure to exercise ‘em every couple of days to keep ‘em in shape.” You could detect a foreign accent, immediately sparking your interest. “Do all the royal party know how to ride?” “Course. Been trained since they were infants, they were. If you mind my pardon, for some of ‘em all that practising didn’t do a lot of good…” You chuckled and looked over the complexion of the skewbald horse in front of you. The black patches against its white contrast were quite striking. “And do you ride, m’lady?” “Me? Oh no…” you responded as if it had never occurred to you. Back home people of status either travelled by carriage or by foot with a band of attenders. “Would you like to learn, then?” “Learn?” The word was so beautiful to you, but the idea of mounting on one of those big creatures was quite terrifying. You let them tow you around, you considered logically. But then there is a thick wall and two heavy shafts between us. And a driver… “I wouldn’t want you to waste your time on me like that, sir…” “No time wasting a’tall. I’ve been twiddling my thumbs here for the past twenty minutes. And none of that ‘sir’ business, if yer don’t mind me requesting, m’lady.” You smiled again and sighed softly. Well, taking risks had been on your goal list for this year. “Alright.” Before you knew it, you were getting fitted out for a suitable saddle size before being taught the proper etiquette for treating a horse. It was fascinating for a curious brain like yourself, and it was well after dark by the time you walked back into the castle; dirty, bruised, and smiling like an idiot. You were two corridors away from your bed chamber and a long-desired bath when a tall figure stepped into your way, out of it in surprise, and then back in as they took in your changed appearance. “My, my. Don’t tell me you snuck down to the cells?!” Prince Seokjin commented, looking you over with furrowed eyebrows. You tilted your chin slightly to give off the appearance of confidence and make you feel as if you still had a hold of some of your dignity. “If you will excuse me, your highness…” “I must know,” he ignored your request, stepping into your new path to keep from escaping, “what caused such a state? I can’t be witness to any such vile acts without having considering the matter.” “There was no vile act with which you are obligated to attend to. I bid you farewell, your highness,” you responded in a tight voice, trying to step around him again. He grabbed your arm; freezing you in your tracks before releasing it quickly and narrowing his eyes in that familiar way. “I feel uncomfortable with you sneaking around like this.” “Is there something you feel desperate to conceal?” You retorted, still trying to leave but unsuccessfully. “Something to maintain, my lady - my privacy as a human being, and not as a statuesque prince who people forget has a home in this place you see as a hotel. And as much as I detest it; the very nature of my family’s situation is fragile. Every farmer and his lamb could conjure up a reason to murder anyone in my family, and for that alone, caution must be taken.” You almost felt pity for him. “Perhaps privacy would be granted to you if you allowed it to others, your highness. I feel a detailed report of my activities is not very befitting for one’s guest.” Seokjin, startled, immediately stepped back and allowed you to brush past on your way. “And I would not be so paranoid, your highness, over the matter of your lives. I can think of several far more intriguing victims I would choose to spend my time thinking about before you or your family.” You heard him huff behind you and hurried away to the comfort of your room. ----------------------------- Yes, I made it a multi-section request because that wasn’t specified and I didn’t think anyone would complain :P. Not sure if I’ve established the hate enough but that can always be arranged for the next part. Look out for the next part of Blink, History, and a few other stories I’ve had up my sleeve as well. Thank you for your requests and feedback :). - Dolceice

[thefaithlesstheologian]

The Devil in the Mist

All who live in these valleys live in fear of the Winter Solstice. After the cool of autumn has long faded into callous winter and the countless snowstorms have blanketed all the paths and roads with mattress thick snow, the mist in all of its mystic horror rolls over the villages for its yearly tribute.

The wolves, the harbingers of this mysterious event, are unknown as to their origins. One of the few myths we are told when we are younger is that once the Elves used to roam the mountainsides between the robust pines, their caravans carrying wares and crafts most exotic. One winter, during the solstice a terrible snowstorm fell upon them and they lost sight of their trail, being forced to take up shelter amidst the caves. As many became frostbitten and exposed they began to chant wild prayers to their Gods. Strange as the Elven pantheon is, Evit-tirrian the Night-wolf, transformed the caravan into the horrible, twisted beasts so as to brave the winter and they have remained just as that since.

Yet I’ve never seen a wolf nor Elf around here outside of the solstice.

Another popular tale is that they were born of the mountains themselves. The dwarves in one of their many excursions along the borderlands cut deep into the rock and uncovered an ancient crypt of which the beasts had been trapped in by the divine for millennia.

Yet never has there been a dwarf nor sign of the expeditions.

Yet regardless of their origins, the fact was the same, the wolves, mist, and fear that they brought rattled our village into a frenzy and made us fear the high gray peaks. Few men dare to walk in the mountains, for fear of the wolves. Hunters, forced to travel the crooked paths will only do so after receiving extensive blessing from Father Brelzac and even then they never stray too deep so as to avoid the caves and ruins scattered amidst the crags.

This standard of weary agony had become normal over generations, traditional for our folk and as a result, we adapted to it in what little ways we could.

Once during one such event, I was acting as local constable and had the responsibility of assembling a band of watchmen for when the time came. It would not be my first time with such a hefty responsibility, but it would be my last for greater purpose was granted to me on that evening.

It began as it always had, the week leading up until the yearly culling was filled with hurried carpenters boarding up homes at nominal costs, all the while storefronts became armories selling old firearms from a half a century prior. What little silverware we had and what few valuable heirlooms remained where melted down and turned into bullets, the one thing that could smite the wild monsters.

During this panicked time, I had chosen for the greater part the huntsmen of the village for their experience both in marksmanship and dealing with wily beasts. One exception was poor Gregor, the village blacksmith. He was a stout, burly man with a leathery, tired face. He’d lost his wife to the wolves six years ago and raised his dear son Aston on his own all the while still providing for the entire village. In fact, I had not chosen him myself, intentionally so I’m afraid for this reason, but rather he insisted for weeks to come until I mournfully folded into his request. The day of, he locked Aston in his cellar and joined us in arms.

Our militia, a ruddy ensemble of firearms, mostly old flintlocks and muskets with a few newer rifles as well as my revolver which I’d traded my horse last summer for to a traveling caravan from Lorigav. We then proceeded to procure wood from the surrounding forests and made a square palisade in the village center and fixed a pole from which we strung a rusty old lantern so as to draw the beasts unto us.

The mob of moth-eaten coats watched on as the sky glowed orange and the village grew steadily silent. Father Brezlac came down from his hill and blessed us with incense and prayers before retreating home. Families clung to the darkest corners and cellars of their drafty homesteads, huddling close with whatever weapons they managed to afford or inherit. I only wish that in these times we’d have enough silver to provide to them, for lead disruptive as it is, would only stammer the unholy wolf.

Once the last tinges of the sun’s holy rays departed and the shining snow-drifts faded to gray, we looked to the crown of the mountains high above. Then, as if produced by a volcano, the opaque, grey cloud began to take shape, rising fast and swallowing the horizon. Like a crashing wave, it rolled over the forests, smothering their conical tips in danger and lament, until finally it cascaded into the cobbled streets, between the humble stone cottages and covered us in its cold embrace.

We clung to our weapons and seized our battlements, waiting silently filtering out our own breaths from the void like fog. Gregor quickly lit the lantern, bathing us in a citrine glow which flickered as the metal body swayed on its hook. Moments, agonizing and ceaseless passed much akin to stripping the trunk of a tree, layer by layer.

Suddenly the silence was broken by an uncanny source, the bubbly high-pitched jingle of a child’s laughter reverberated through the street.

“Damn! I thought everyone was locked away!” I said to my watchmen.

“That sounded close” muttered Gregor who stared with a wide expression about him.

In the distance, we saw a small figure shift, prancing and playing without fear. It had golden hair and a fair frame which blended nearly into the veil and I immediately recognized it. “Bloody Hell, is that Aston?” I gasped.

The blacksmith, revolted by the thought lurched forward in terror. “Devos! It is, I have to-“

He started to speak but I cut him off “-I will go after him Gregor, you stay here.” I said, wishing for neither a father to foolishly lose his son nor a son to foolishly lose his father.

“Please! Bring him back safe!” he yelped.

“I will return with him, you have my word,” I said before vaulting the barricade my body rigid with determination. How in the name of Devos and all the Angels he escaped from a locked cellar I may never know. Aston never had a reputation as a troublesome kid, he was quiet, shy, did as he was asked, yet to see him in such a jovial state was unnerving.

I ranged the mist silently not wishing to attract the attention of the hounds relying on little more than my own dilated eyes to see the shifting blankets around me. I seemed to stay just in sight of Aston. “Aston!” I cried out in a hushed tone “Aston, your father is scared for you, come back here!” He appeared deaf to my request and carried on in a sort of wondrous stupor, leading me towards the perimeter of the woods scaling up the side of a snowbank.

As he entered I doubled pace, I would drag the insolent child back home if I had to, for poor Gregor’s sake. My boots crunched and squeaked and I chased after, I made great stride and clasped the boy on the shoulders. At first, he seemed to resist me, trying to carry on as if I weren’t a present force, until I finally turned him around, forcing his pale blue eyes unto me. “Aston! How did you get out of the cellar? Come on do you wish death upon yourself?” I asked him hurriedly starting to tow him back.

“The Stone man has something to show me!” he replied in a loud, cheerful chirp. I was puzzled at his expression, and then noticed the drooping, listless expression of his face.

“This is no game, come and I’ll return you to your father.”

As I enticed him forcefully, the forest erupted with a scattered and wild rhythm. The underbrush bristled and rattled forcing me to seize up and guard over the boy with him in my shadow as I peered the woods watching for the beasts.

Several more agonizing moments passed then from amidst its obscurity a set of gold-stained teeth, sharp and malicious opened wide, lunging for me. With a quick twitch of my revolver’s trigger, I slew the creature with silver and thunder as its beastly mouth bucked skyward and its gnarled, matted fur cradled itself in a pillow of snow at my feet.

I went to resume my quest, but as I turned the boy was absent. I cursed to myself and looked about the ground for any human disturbance. Thankfully the boy’s feet left small impressions and I trod along them kicking aside clumps of ice as I did so. The trunks of the trees seemed to hover as I passed them, their sharp needles extending like the wings of bats.

I was eventually led a sandstone awning presenting itself to me as a sort of square navel in the rock face, from its darkened halls billowed forth the wind’s ghastly echo which moaned in a sort of depraved wail. Steeled only by my promise I entered despite better judgments and I found myself in a large empty chamber with only black fog.

As I moved swiftly whispering out the boy’s name, I heard a tell-tale patter amidst the stone tiles. They scurried about me like rocks thrown against the wall. Readying my weapon I narrowed my sight, catching swift shadows dart about me. I waited, and as soon as one changed its path towards me I discharged a silver bullet straight unto its heart, that is if such grotesque canines could have such a thing. In the flash of the muzzle I could see just beyond a low threshold, the still miraculously unscathed Aston standing indifferent in the presence of a stone statuette perched upon a pedestal.

Another hound charged and under the grace of fire and smoke, he was smitten soon followed by his peers. I trod to the statue’s chamber standing within feet of Aston and found we were flanked by several more of the grey, gnarled wolves. They stood breathing heavily, their barrel-like chests rising and falling as they rested upon peaked shoulders.

Then Aston became alight under a pale energy which seemed to seep forth from its very etching. As it brightened I could see its details in greater magnitude. It was simple, almost cylindrical in its crafting and much reflected the statuettes I had seen in the chapel. Its sharply carved face stared judgmentally at the boy. About the sides of its studded gown were indents that appeared the shape of a crooked knife in one hand and a long branch in the other.

Soon its energy reached its peak and before the boy, a spectral figure appeared. It stood tall over him wearing an ivory tunic casting doubtful eyes upon him. From its back stretched broad snowy wings which simultaneously brought me ease and terror.

Its eyes slithered up to me, their dark pupils sending an icy sensation through my being. “Did you come for the boy?” its voice boomed, vibrating the stones so as to shakes loose dust.

I remained frozen, awed by the angel’s majestic and powerful voice.

“How tragic, but fear not for he has been marked! His purpose is both holy and necessary!”

“What are you doing with him!” I was finally able to shout, wavering in tone.

“He is the price of our protection!”

“What are you-“ before I could finish he became impatient and made one quick spinning motion with his torso, striking the boy. He toppled back with a waterfall of blood pouring from his throat. His eyes were like an insect’s as he choked to death on his own fluids.

“Feast my children! Feast!” It commanded, fading back into the statue. The wolves pounced upon his body, which still desperately clung to life. Their twisted golden teeth ripped at his flesh, severing tendon and sinew. They gnawed on his bones and lapped up pools of blood from around him. Their white fur dyed pink as they gluttonously indulged in their meal.

“No!” I shouted. I quickly executed the creatures and in despondency fell to my knees silently weeping over the torn remains of Aston. With my promise as broken as his body, I could not imagine facing Gregor, especially after such a  simple failing. If I had not been so enamored by the divine creature and resorted to acting rather than parlaying perhaps I would have been able to save him, but then what terrible fate could defying such a creature have brought?

I stood up and grabbed at it, trying to pry it intent on throwing it to the ground in anger. Yet, strong as I may be it was cemented to its pedestal and I soon gave up my fury.

I took up the child’s torn body and crept home in shame unmolested by any further creature. As day broke, I lingered on the outskirts, staring at the product of my failure. Lightning struck in my chest and the visage of that statue heckled my very being. Eventually, I marched off and snuck into Gregor’s shop, stealing away his hammer from amidst his tools.

Then, retracing my footsteps I returned to that damned shrine. The bodies of the wolves had vanished, as they often did with the mist. It was then that I noticed in the main chamber, rotted and torn piles of wood and fibers. Amidst them was a banner, bearing two entwined rings upon its surface. Its broken and dirty fabric was strewn over the remains of a humanoid skeleton harboring a tarnished set of plated armor which sheltered the bones a clamshell of metal. Indeed the inquisitor’s remains must have been centuries old, perhaps to the point of the organization’s founding to bear a uniform such as that. Its skull was broad and thick, like that of man’s, while its torso was tall and sturdy

In his hands was an old leather journal, eaten by time. I picked it up, most of the pages had been reduced to pulp and rot, yet a few legible lines remained. From what I could make out was the following:

“Carved a…the angel found us…must save…so cold…Devos save them…betrayed” I could glean little else from it so I carried on with my mission.

I looked the statue in the eyes with a mean expression and with Gregor’s tool in hand I smote it, splitting it into two halves. Not satisfied I gathered the two pieces of the holy relic together and ground it into chunks, then granules and still further into dust. I do not know what good it did, all I know is that I cannot return home. I am unable to face Gregor’s weeping once again, especially in light of my failings. I instead chose to leave his son’s remains in the town center and then I will be away in exile.

However, weep not for me, for this tragedy has gifted me a new, holy purpose. My faith in the angels, now disturbed, is about to perish.  Yes, this is the start of a new journey for me, a new war from which I may never return.

I’ve heard legend that one can kill an Angel, the academics in the Republic will tell me how. I must travel to the universities of Lorigav to investigate why an angel would do such a cruel and brutal thing to an innocent, traumatized youth.