#he is scampering towards your location at speeds

[kandidandi]

you just got slunged

[missathlete31]

Dead on Your Feet Chapter 2-

An AU in which Hangman is team leader and takes the missile to save Rooster, yet Bradley comes back to save Hangman as well. As he struggles to get himself and his teammate home, Jake is pushed to his limits in more ways than even he anticipated.

Chapter 1 is here

Warnings for this chapter- some descriptions of injuries (not too graphic but just to be safe). Also Jake goes through a lot of mental anguish here

Warmth is what brings Jake back to awareness after his plane crashes to the ground, and not a gentle warmth like an afternoon sun on a spring day. No, this is straight heat he feels, worse than the time his parents locked him out of the house in the dead of Texas summer. Jake struggles to open an eye; to gauge his surroundings, but even lifting an eyelid feels like a herculean effort and the pilot just can’t muster the strength at the moment.

Heat…Fire… Plane on Fire….Get up!

Jake’s brain pushes the connection through his body, awakening enough wherewithals for him to open a green eye and see the fiery remains of his jet all around. Somehow the crash threw Jake’s body out of the worst of the debris but when he looks up he sees pieces of the plane ready to fall and land on top of him. By his left side Jake can see flames licking at the ends of his flight suit and he knows he has to move. He turns his head slowly, cautious of whiplash or a back injury to see a clear path towards his right. An army crawl seems impossible so Jake tries to roll over instead. He makes it about an inch before a sharp pain on his right side makes him stop and swear for a moment before he gains enough momentum to lift his head.

He expects to see something sticking out of his stomach, the pain so bad he must be impaled, but nothing is visible meaning Jake is facing an internal injury. He’s had broken ribs before (his father the culprit of more than a dozen in his childhood years) but they never felt this bad.

A piece of burning wreckage teeters above him and pain be damned Jake forces himself onto his front as he scampers out of the way. He doesn’t clear completely, something hitting the back of his head sharply and causing his vision to tunnel. He pushes past it though, getting himself into a safer position before he falls back into the snow.

Jake is on his back now, looking up at brightened sky that feels wrong with all the discomfort coursing through his body. He knows he should catalogue his injuries, find what really hurts but his body is just one giant pulse of pain and he is almost over-stimulated because of it. He closes his eyes, almost on the verge of passing out again when he hears a plane’s engine. It snaps him back to reality, his eyes scanning the skies to see a familiar F-18 super hornet heading towards his location. For a moment Jake fights the urge to cry, the thought of one of his teammates coming back for him enough to quell the feelings of worthlessness he had grown accustomed too. Instead he tries to sit up, the sharp throbbing of his abdomen making it exceedingly more difficult, as he tries to flag down the jet overhead.

As the plane gets closer Jake can just barely make out that it’s a single-seater; meaning that unless Maverick broke the speed of sound to try to supply support, the pilot that came back for him was none other than Rooster. Jake’s mind wants to unpack this bit of information, but the blonde refuses to give it credence, his concern staying focused on showing Bradshaw that he is indeed alive.

The jet circles once but Jake’s not sure he’s more than a speck of debris from Bradley’s vantage point so he struggles to stand himself up. It’s not easy, not that anything at this point has been, but Jake manages to get to a knee before he looks up again and waves a weak hand up. He hopes Bradley sees something before a noise makes his stomach drop- Bradshaw hit one of the other missile zones and he’s below the threshold. Three surface to air missiles come shooting out but it only takes one. It makes a direct hit with Rooster’s left engine and Jake watches in horror as the plane starts making a beeline for the ground.

With a cry of anguish, Jake’s body crumbles to the ground. This is exactly what he never wanted, a teammate, a friend, dying for him. His father was right, Rooster was right, the team was right, all Jake was good for was to bring death and sadness to those around him. He wishes he never got himself up to wave, wishes Bradshaw saw nothing and headed back to the ship, away from danger and away from the damage Jake inflicts on those around him. Jake’s not sure how he could face a rescue now, how he could dare go back to the carrier and tell the others that Rooster died trying to save him of all people. Jake fights the urge to throw up but it’s too much, the grip of grief too tight on his heart and his stomach and he heaves into the snow roughly, the pain in his side burning at the effort.

Tears continue to well in his eyes and he blinks them away, his vision turning watery as he pushes himself back onto his hunches and looks around him. It is then he catches something falling slowly from the sky, a parachute deployed with a pilot attached. He gasps with a combination of shock, alarm and the underlying feeling of hope before Jake gets himself fully standing because Bradshaw is alive and he has to go get to him. It’s the motivation he needs to get himself moving again and he grasps that fact with all the willpower he has left in him.

Jake wants to run through the woods immediately but he forces himself to think logically first. He heads back to his plane’s wreckage, and can just make out his go bag under the flaming remains of his fuselage. It’s filled with a canteen, some rations, a first aid kit, a compass and his knife- basically everything he needs if he wants to survive and Jake finds in his heart he does, if not for himself than for the teammate he trapped with him. Shuffling painfully low, Jake reaches through the flames, struggling to ignore the licks of fire burning his fingers as he finds purchase on the bag straps. He pulls but nothing moves and now Jake can smell gas leaking, the ultimate sign of things getting a hell of a lot worse quickly. He pulls again, harder this time and the bag slowly wiggles but still it’s not free. He braces himself to pull once more but before he can the fuselage explodes in the most brilliant display of flames Jake’s ever seen. He’s too close to it though and he is pushed back with a force that knocks every ounce of air from his lungs before throwing him back into the snow. His head connects sharply with the ground and he’s seeing stars for a few moments before he can even begin to function. When he comes back to some semblance of reality Jake feels heat on his face. He tries to turn over but suddenly he’s vomiting again, this time with an alarming amount of red tinged in it before he falls over to his left, his face finding solace as it hits the coolness of the snow.

He wants to stay there forever. He wants to stay in this frozen tundra with his burning face buried in the snow for the rest of time. The feeling of cold is the only relief he’s felt since the crash and if he’s taking an inventory, his body is very close to its limit. Yet Jake knows he can’t stay. Bradshaw’s out there, in the woods because of him. He’s ejected from a plane and could be injured because of him. Burns, fractured ribs, concussion be damned, Jake owes it to Rooster to get to him. He thinks of Maverick’s pre-mission words once more and slowly gets his body moving.

Pain has always been a part of Jake's life: physically, mentally, emotionally. He taught himself early on how to deal with the worst the world has to offer so he tells himself that this is nothing. These pulsing waves of pain, that slowly overwhelm his senses are just a distraction. He forces himself up, moving first to his knees and then finally when his head stops spinning he gets his feet under him.

Once standing, he shoulders his go bag and takes a deep breath. It isn't as hard as he expects with possibly broken ribs or maybe he just doesn't let it be as hard as it should be. He is focused now, stubbornly so, and his mind has always been frighteningly obstinate when he wants it to be.

He looks back up at the treeline but he can’t see Bradley’s parachute anymore. He knows which direction it was headed though so he shuffles that way. Taking one last glance at his burning jet, Jake closes his eyes and wishes for strength. He doesn’t exactly get it but he’s got enough determination to push himself forward in a slow trot through the trees. It’s excruciating on his ribs but Jake’s made of tougher stuff than anyone’s ever given him credit for. He dissociates himself from his injuries as much as possible and keeps putting one foot in front of the other, his mind only on his teammate.

Like he promised himself before this mission, he is getting them all home.

[hqcult]

21ST ## the miya twins

you visit hyogo to celebrate your 21st birthday with your extended family. you met atsumu and osamu, who were oh so excited to meet you.

. tw manipulation, pseudo-incest, noncon, cunnilingus, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mindbreak, implied double penetration, dark content . wc 4.3k

looking back, the twins are good fucking actors. they deserve some oscar-level award with how much they smiled those sweet honey smiles and lured you into a sense of security before baring their fangs and pulling you down to hell with them. but they never would’ve gotten the chance to act if you hadn’t been there as their audience. so, the truth remains the same—this is all your fault. you never should’ve insisted coming to hyōgo in the first place.

ever since getting adopted at the tender age of thirteen and moving to tokyo, you’ve seen everything there is to see, ate at every restaurant with a 5-star review on google. you’ve done them all at least thrice by now and it’s getting boring.

so, when your adoptive father had jokingly talked about coming to hyōgo to meet your extended family for your 21st birthday, you perked up in your seat and your eyes twinkled like stars. 

your mom didn’t want to go at first, of course, claiming you’ll get carsick but your parents eventually gave in after seeing the pleading look in your eyes and the genuine excitement in your stance.

long story short, you did end up getting carsick. quite a few times too, actually. but you were already driving along the expressway and your mom’s sister was already expecting the three of you. so, naturally, you guys pushed through, your dad making sure he drove as smoothly as possible in order not to trigger another barfing session from you.

it was twilight by the time your dad pulled up on his sister-in-law’s driveway and the first you see were two identical faces—twins? for step-cousins? well, now that was something. you’ve never really met twins before so it was a whole new experience and it excited you greatly. 

not to mention how you and atsumu instantly hit it off, your personalities aligning. yet when you sat next to osamu during dinner, the younger twin found it wasn’t as hard talking to you compared to his brother. in fact, he found it interesting how easy it was to converse with you, the words flowing out his lips. you were just so painfully compatible with them that why oh why did the universe have to make you their half-cousin?

the shift in their behavior wasn’t at all gradual but can you really blame them? you were such a good daughter, such a beauty. and they guess the whole ‘pseudo-incest’ taboo thing amplified your appeal all the more. 

well, at least in their defense, atsumu and osamu genuinely wanted to get to know their new cousin in the most innocent, platonic way and not this weird thing they’re feeling right now. but you were so damn irresistible that they couldn’t keep their feelings in check.

how kind of ‘samu to grab the coffee container at the topmost shelf for you during breakfast, not knowing he purposely puts it there every night so he can “accidentally” rub his morning wood against your ass.

your ‘tsumtsum is such an angel when he doesn’t hesitate to take off his outerwear and lends it to you whenever you forget yours, not knowing he snatches them from the laundry basket and leaving you no choice but to use his. the sweet scent you leave on the jacket is enough to throw him off the edge and have him climaxing as he fucked his own hand.

nobody noticed, everyone was distracted by their achievements at such a young age. all their mom had to say is how osamu yet again made it to dean’s lister or how atsumu got scouted for a national team.

your mom and dad didn’t notice, lost in the daydream of always wanting to have their own son only to end up with you. blinded of their dazzle that the rotten pieces of them were fully camouflaged by the glow.

it all came to a peak when the twins were pulling all-nighter playing games like always. 

atsumu needed to use the restroom, and just as he’s passing by your door, he heard a questionable sound that made him stop, frozen and unbelieving.

carefully, he tiptoes closer to place his ear against your door, praying to whomever that the floorboards don’t creak and disrupt whatever you’re doing. silence, seconds of it. then click, a switch turning on, he hears low vibration and a shaky whimper, a slick sound that reminded him of—

you were touching yourself.

holy fucking crap.

atsumu can only stare at the door with a knowing curl in his lips as he quickly pushes down his boxers. the risk of getting caught masturbating so out in the open making all the blood rush south.

“guess yer not as innocent as i thought ya were,” he mutters, spitting on his palm before wrapping it around his dick.

he shut his eyes close, clinging desperately into the imagination of how it would feel like to fuck your cunny instead of his hand. how the view would be like as he forces your legs up and into a mating press as he rutted his hips into you. at least you were loud, the moans he can hear as clear as day and he’s thankful he needn’t depend on his imagination anymore like all the other times.

you better be fucking thankful that the rest of the rooms were downstairs or else your parents and their mom would’ve heard by now. eh, atsumu didn’t mind. he got off on the risque idea of getting caught in the act.

when your pitch grows whinier and he hears your quick rufflings on the bed, he knows you’re close. he can hear the frantic and changing levels of the vibrator as you fucked it into your walls. 

“fuck,” he hissed, the mental image of you masturbating and putting on a show for him making him teeter over the edge.

he grunts, low and animalistic, as spurts of his cum stains his hands and the floor. he didn’t care. he pumped himself through his orgasm and it was the best he’s ever got in a while. who knew all he needed to hear was his little step-cousin lewdly touching herself? naughty, naughty girl.

when he heard your panting after cumming against your little toy, he took his cue and speed-walked towards his and osamu’s bedroom to get a cloth he’ll use to clean the front of your door. but just as he caught you in the act, he caught his own brother red-handed, too.

the tiny specks of cum on the wall where osamu stood is a ghastly sight but atsumu couldn’t care less. 

silently, the twins exchanged a knowing glance.

“ya heard ‘er too?”

someone knocks on your bedroom door on the eve of your birthday. 

osamu was tasked to wake you up while atsumu started the car. you didn’t respond. were you… he slowly opens the door, he spots you immediately in the bundle of blankets atop your bed. when he stalks closer, you looked so cozy that osamu almost got tempted to ditch the idiot and come snuggle with you under the blankets instead. 

but he has two heads and the one he’s using to think is located south.

he wakes you up with a gentle shake on the shoulder. “‘samu?” you mutter, voice low and croaky from your deep sleep when you see a blurry tousle of gray hair.

“let’s do a countdown for yer birthday, angel. come on, put on a jacket. ‘tsumu’s already startin’ up the car.”

osamu’s blunt nails dug half-moon crescents into his palms as he saw your tiny pajama shorts and the slip top when you shoved the blankets away. he swore his palms would’ve bled, especially after seeing you bending over to look for a hoodie inside your luggage. 

he stared so openly, it was almost predatory in a sense. 

as you scamper down the stairs with the younger twin’s hands dangerously grazing the top of your rear, you thought it’s plain old protective ‘samu being worried you’ll make a misstep and break your neck.

“where’s everybody?”

“just us three, angel. ‘lil cousin bonding before yer big party tonight, y’know?”

you giggled. how sweet, you thought.

you didn’t sense a thing. didn’t see a single red flag even if it was being waved across your face like what they do in bullfights. osamu felt a little sorry for how they’re blatantly manipulating you but it’s too late to back out now, much less let the guilt eat up his insides. he shouldn’t be a hypocrite considering he jacked off to your moans, too, that night. 

he’s really no different than atsumu and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

“shotgun!”

it wasn’t osamu that stops you, but atsumu, from scampering into the front seat. the older twin quickly locks the door before lowering down the passenger side’s window. 

“nuh-uh, birthday girl. ya can’t sit here or the surprise’ll be ruined!”

you grumble, frowning as you scoot yourself in the backseat of the car. atsumu twists his torso towards the back, asking you to wear the blindfold he’s handing you. it was a little tough with how stubborn you are but ‘tsumu’s just too good with his words.

you drove for thirty minutes before the car pulled up somewhere. the world is tranquil outside, so you couldn’t have driven to the nearest city. your initial guess is a beach, but there were no splashes of water. maybe a cliff-side or a forest?

the car’s ignition turns off and you call out to the twins. 

“‘tsumu? ‘samu? where are we? can i take my blindfold off now?”

“just a moment, doll.” there’s an excited lilt to atsumu’s voice and you can’t help but fidget in your seat, feeling the excitement crawling up your spine as you think of what their surprise could be.

you hear them clamber out the car. you scoot closer to the door just as the backseat opens, a silly smile on your face. “you guys didn’t have to do this, you know, but i appreciate it so mu—”

someone tackles you to the seat and the air gets knocked out of your lungs. he’s heavy and you felt the muscles underneath his shirt as you tried to push him away but to no avail—you know it’s a man, it has to be because you felt the broad shoulders and something poking at your thigh. you feel him nosing the side of your neck and his hands crawling under your shirt. his freezing skin against your own is what snapped you out of it.

“atsumu! osamu!” you cried, calling for help.

you inwardly gasped, realizing something. maybe they were hurt! maybe your assaulter had creeped up behind the twins just as they opened the door for you, knocked them out cold, before trying to have their way with you. at the thought of the twins getting hurt, you thrashed, fought, and screamed with newfound fervor.

“couldja calm down and shut yer fucking trap?”

when the blindfold flies away and you see the man straddling you on the backseat of atsumu’s car, how you wished your assaulter had never taken it off.

atsumu had never looked this scary from your point of view, then again he never straddled you like this in the weeks prior. never looked at you like how he’s looking now—there’s clear hunger and lust in those eyes. you’ve seen that look one too many times from boys back in your university when you had your one night stands. but it had all been consensual and you loved them looking at you that way but this is different.

so, so different.

you can’t look at him in the eye, not when he’s staring at you like that. it felt like you’re pushed into a corner, vulnerable and bare even with the clothes you’re wearing.

“please, get off of me.”

“get off ya?” he repeats, mirth in his eyes as he hauls you up to a sitting position. he finally shuts the door behind him. “but i’ve been wantin’ to do this for weeks.”

to further emphasize his point, he grounds his hips against yours, making sure the tip of his already erect cock grazes against the bud of your clit. his boxers and the thin fabric of your shorts isn’t helping. he groans wantonly, angling his hips to do it again until you slipped out from under him and maneuvered your way to the other door.

osamu! osamu will stop him, you thought with teary eyes as atsumu growls and quickly pulls you back by the forearms, your back to his chest as you try to claw your way out of the athlete’s grip.

“‘samu! ‘samu, help me!”

but when the said twin opens the door and slips inside the car with little to no surprise present in his face, a type of fear you’ve never felt before runs up your spine. the look in osamu’s eyes reflected that of his twin’s and with sinking realization, you knew he wasn’t there to help you.

“happy 21st birthday, angel.”

and then he’s ducking down to kiss you. his lips are soft and they moved tenderly, in contrast to the barbaric way they tore at your clothes, the cold making you shiver in your underwear.

dealing with one sick person is enough, but with two, you’re not so sure. you only had two hands, if you pushed osamu away, atsumu would have free access and vice versa. your legs couldn’t move either, thanks to the cramped space of the backseat.

while holding down your hands, atsumu marks every inch of untainted skin he could see as osamu swirls his tongue inside your mouth. you’ve never felt so disgusted and dirty, but above all, betrayed. even if it was a few weeks since you’ve met, you still saw them as family. sure, you weren’t technically blood-related but in the papers it’s a different story.

when osamu pulled away, you averted your eyes but his hand reached up to hold your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. you feel his other hand trailing up your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your clothed sex as he watched you like a fox. he wanted to commit this moment to memory. every twitch and small gasp you make as his cold fingers pinched at your clit and traced your pussy lips.

“staying quiet, princess?” atsumu comments, hands snaking around front to squeeze and grope your breasts over the bra you wore. “ya weren’t like this when i caught ya touchin’ yerself last week.”

your eyes widened. when you tried turning your head to look over your shoulder towards the other twin, osamu shoved two fingers inside you.

your reaction was immediate. the pleasure and pain mixing as a loud gasp escapes your lips. “eyes up front,” he murmurs, the firm hold on your chin going higher to encase your whole jaw.

“oi, ‘samu, didn’t think you’re the possessive type,” atsumu says, teasingly placing his chin on your shoulder as he smiles that lazy smile you know osamu hates. “not that i’m going to lose.”

the older twin slips your bra off just as osamu takes his fingers out to lewdly lick up your slick. he moans, keeping his eyes trained on your horrified face. “sweet. but not wet enough for us, angel.”

“what—no—!”

“let me have a go.”

before you could even react, atsumu’s spinning you around to face him as he shoves your shoulders down. due to the cramped space, your head collides with osamu’s thighs, narrowly missing the tent in his joggers. the weight in his thighs makes the younger twin fidget and squirm as he hastily reaches for your hand, pulling his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring out. you wince when it hits the side of your face. osamu loved the disgust in your face when he spat at your hand and used it to get himself off as he started stroking his cock.

meanwhile, in one swift motion, atsumu is pulling your panties down and licking a stripe up your cunny, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit as his hands come up to slap your pussy. “how dare ya be so quiet,” he hisses, sucking harsher on your clit to pull a reaction out of you. “let me hear ya whine and moan, babe. i’m fuckin’ sure as hell my tongue is better than some cheap ass vibrator ya used.”

but your lips are stubbornly sealed as you arched your back. like hell you’d play into their wants and sick fantasies. they were your cousins! forcing you to enjoy this is just downright wrong. and knowing they’ve eavesdropped and silently lusted over you while having those innocent little smiles on their faces… were they not in the least bit guilty for deceiving you? deceiving your parents?

“give ‘er somethin’ bigger. i think she’s askin’ for it.” osamu says, kneading one of your breasts and tweaking your nipples as he continued to pump himself using your hand. 

because he lost to rock paper scissors, he’s going to fuck you after atsumu and no matter how furious he was, a deal’s a deal.

like an idea switching inside his head, atsumu falters, staring right at you with sparkles in his eyes before his lips curled into a devious smirk.

“no, no, no,” you scramble, trying to sit up in order to push him away but osamu is quick to pin you down. “atsumu—no—you don’t want to do this, please—!”

“shut it, princess. i know what i want and that’s to fuck yer sweet little cunny right ‘ere,” he mocks by planting a sweet kiss against your lower lips.

“can ya stop with the dirty talk my dick’ll go soft, ya scrub!” osamu hisses, his hands wrapped around yours getting tighter as the lewd sounds of his slick gets louder. 

no matter how much osamu denies it, he’s getting off on seeing you squirming under atsumu and god he never thought to have a voyeurism kink but here we are.

atsumu shoves his boxers down and you turn away from glancing down at his cock, osamu had to ruthlessly pull your hair and make you look as you slowly start tearing up. he was bigger than most guys you’ve met in college and you dread the painful stretch it’ll take for him to shove that dick inside you.

“shh, princess. don’tcha worry, yer all prepped to take me.” he scissors your pussy lips, the sticky wetness creating lewd sounds before pushing his stained fingers into your mouth. “hear that? go on and taste yerself.”

he gave you no choice, fingers pushing your tongue down until you obliged to his wishes. from behind you, you hear a low grunt and a pant as osamu throws his head back. he was close, you could tell and you surely didn’t want your face to be near his cock once he cums.

“‘tsumu, god damn it! hurry and fuck ‘er already!”

osamu was close and his mind was clouded. he needed to see you get railed in order for him to teeter towards that delicious edge of pure ecstasy. needed to hear the noises like the ones you made that night.

“i got it, i got it. fuckin’ impatient bastard.”

“atsumu, stop—!”

but he doesn't bother to listen, pushing his cock deep all in a single thrust. you were right. the stretch slightly stings and you bet it would’ve hurt more had he not bothered to suck and lick at your pussy earlier. “it hurts,” you sob, trying to curl in on yourself while keeping atsumu from leaning in.

but your strength is no match for him as he peppers light kisses down your neck, osamu helping with pushing your hair away to expose more skin. “shh, shh,” the faux-blond coos. “it’ll get better, i promise ya. yer gonna love it so let me move, okay?”

“no, wait, take it out, wai—!”

he starts thrusting, timed and rhythmic as his hands reach under your thighs, slightly raising your lower body to meet the angle of his hips. you couldn’t deny that it felt good like he said. the heavenly drag of his dick inside your walls, feeling you squeeze around him just as he nearly pulls out, only to thrust it all back in again. he wanted to keep this “making love” pace as long as he wants but he’s getting irritated but how you still wanted to keep your pretty lips shut.

that’s when you truly felt the vehicle jolting back and forth, brought by the sudden way atsumu manically fucks you like some animal. the change of pace surprised you greatly, choking on your saliva and letting out a pornographic “ah!” as he started railing you in the backseat of his car. you were way past the point of no return as immense pleasure spiked your nerves. all thoughts of somehow fighting their advances being shot out the window.

“that’s it,” atsumu pants, swinging your legs up against your chest to fuck you even deeper. “come on, make some noise, princess. i want people to hear how good i make ya feel even if they’re miles away.”

after all this is over and the lustful haze they forced you under is gone, you’ll regret the way you moaned and groaned and whined like how you’re doing now. embarrassing, how even as atsumu leans closer to kiss you, you don’t push him away. a mess of saliva and sweat mixing as his pace doesn’t relent and the fierce jolts of the car only adds up to your pleasure.

“‘tsumu!” you screamed, one hand holding onto his hair and the other scratching at his back. “i’m close—shit!”

he replies with a moan of his own, drawn out and whiny, feeling your walls suffocating his cock as he continues to drive it in and out with a speed you’ve never experienced with your past rendezvous. perks of being an athlete, you guess. “don’tcha dare fuckin’ cum until i tell ya to or else.”

but that little devil is making it harder for you to obey him as one of his hands snakes in between your bodies to start toying with your clit, drawing firm circles and figure 8’s to draw in that eventual release. “no, no, ‘tsumu don’t!” you tried reaching down but his hand only tugs it back, firmly holding your wrist as he continues his ministrations.

it’s too much. you were feeling it all too much and in the heat of the moment, you forgot everything else—you arch your back and felt your climax crashing over you as your cum steadily makes a mess off the backseat with every thrust atsumu made.

he stops.

his head hangs low, looking at the view of your interconnected bodies before scoffing in disbelief. menacingly, he raises his head to make eye contact with you. “didn’t i fuckin’ tell ya to cum only if i tell ya to cum?”

the faux-blond grabs at your hair, ruthlessly tilting it back as you feel a sticky sensation running down your nether lips. you shake your head, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“but—!”

“i don’t care. i warned ya, didn’t i? so don’t fuckin’ hate me after all this is over.”

suddenly you feel your fight surging through you again like a tidal wave. this is wrong. how dare they do it even after you said no. how dare they do it and make you enjoy it?

“aw, cute. angel’s still got some fight in ‘er left.”

you thrashed against atsumu as soon as he swiftly pulls out of you. he doesn’t even break a sweat while restraining you with his bare hands.

“let me go! you fuckers! i’ll tell—”

“tell who? our parents? this isn’t elementary school, princess. ya get what ya fuckin’ deserve and it’s not our fault ya like swingin’ that pretty ass so much.”

you growl as a retort, attempting to bite atsumu’s hand off as he swiftly spins you around to lay on your stomach. you cringe, feeling your sticky essence against your skin. you didn't have time to feel humiliated, not as you came face to face with osamu’s still erect and angry dick.

you weren’t dumb, you knew why the faux-blond made you face his twins’ way—this is to be your punishment, he said, all the while feeling him scramble about behind you. it wasn’t only ‘til you feel atsumu’s tip prodding at your ass did you realize what’s going to happen.

“go on and give our ‘samu a nice suck, yeah? put on a show and if ya dare use yer teeth, i’ll personally make sure ya regret ever coming to hyōgo.”

you came back at dawn, during the sunrise. it’s glow basking the whole house in a nice orange tint. “what are you guys doing up so early?” your mom asks when she sees the three of you piling in from the front door.

she was too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes that she missed everything—the way osamu’s oppressive arm wrapped around your shoulder got tighter, the way atsumu gave you a nasty side eye, and especially the fearful expression on your face.

“no - nothing, mom. they just wanted to have a birthday countdown for me.”

“oh, right! happy 21st, sweetheart.”

[ysljoon]

Daddy’s Favorite Student|DILF!Kim Seokjin x Reader

This fanfic has mature content so please avoid if you’re not 18+.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 18 and Seokjin is about 45 years old), dirty talk, unprotected sex (please use protection people!), creampie, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving)

“Little girl you have to be fucking quiet if you want to continue doing this.”

You are in the current situation of fucking your project partner’s dad while your partner left to go get food for the both of you. You will never deny the fact that older men have always been much more attractive to you then boys your age. This rendezvous started when your teacher partnered you together with a boy that you weren’t even aware that he was in your class. His name was Kim Taehyung and you had to do your senior project with him to ensure that you would be walking across the stage with your diploma in the spring. 

Initially when you were planning out your project with Taehyung he suggested to do the project at his house since it was located right next to a plaza that had a craft store with extensive selections. You rolled your eyes at the suggestion because it definitely had underlying suggestions that you were not interested in. His suggestion was something that you will be forever grateful for. On the first day of working on his project you drove to his house and knocked on the door. You were slightly annoyed since you had a heavy backpack that you were itching to take off since its heavy weight was due to all the craft supplies you thought would be useful. 

You knocked again with an even heavier fist to hopefully get a response and this time the door swung open. You were instantly faced with a gorgeous man that definitely was not Taehyung. His broad shoulders had your mouth watering and you were ready to jump this man’s bones. “Oh, you must be Y/N! Taehyung told me you were coming. Sorry for his awful manners, he's in his room right now and he seems to be deaf once he’s in there.” He moved his body to the side to allow you to come inside and you ignored anything he said about Taehyung. You just wanted to stare at his plush lips all day. “I’m his father,” He stuck out his hand for you to shake it and you were in awe with how big his hand was. You knew they were perfect to manhandle your smaller frame. “You can call me Seokjin or Mr. Kim. It doesn’t matter to me I won’t give you a hard time.” He gave you a warm smile and led you to the stairs and instructed you which door was Taehyung’s. You thanked him and wished that you could spend more time with him. You knocked on the door and saw Taehyung open up with disheveled fluffy hair and wearing a white shirt and sweatpants. Definitely a lot more casual than the vintage style he sports at school.

After brainstorming and getting a rough outline of the project Taehyung was generous enough to suggest getting lunch. He originally wanted you to accompany him while he drove to the fast food restaurant of your choice, but you came up with the excuse that you’ll continue to work on the project so there will be less to do after the lunch break. He looked like he was going to try again to convince you, but he just shrugged and went downstairs to get his keys. You spied through his bedroom window to make sure he was well down the street before you proceeded to make your advances towards Mr. Kim. Just the sound of his name gives you butterflies. 

You got up from the bed and slowly started to explore the upstairs part of the house and you heard busy fingers typing behind a door and you figured it was Mr. Kim doing some work from home. You tried to suppress a grin from your impulsive thought of him fucking you against his desk and making a mess all over his office. You timidly knocked on the door and held your breath while waiting for an answer. He cracked open the door and made it wider once he saw you. “Y/N is everything okay? Where’s Taehyung?” You slipped past him into his office and he closed his door behind him. “Taehyung went to go get lunch for the both of us and I was bored so I wanted to spend some time while I was waiting!” You gave him a wide smile and he nodded at your response. “Well, I don’t think I can entertain you much since I’m doing work, but you can keep me company till Taehyung gets back.” He pulled out a chair for you to sit and you watched him type away on his desktop computer. After a couple of minutes you knew you had to speed up your plan especially if you wanted to get what you wanted before Taehyung came back. 

“Mr. Kim, do you have a wife?” He suddenly spluttered at the sudden question and looked at you from above his monitor. “U-uh no she’s out of the picture.” He tried to keep the answer as vague as possible, but that was all you needed to hear. You got up and made your way around the table and started to rub his back in an attempt to do a faux massage. You started to press your breasts against his back to really get him riled up and this did the trick. “Y/N what are you trying to do right now? I am a father not a teenage boy that does hookups. If that’s what you’re looking for then please go look somewhere else.” His words did not match his actions though and this made you smirk while you continued to rub his broad shoulders. “Mr. Kim, if you really don’t want this you can kick me out right now, but I don’t think that’s what you want.” You purred into his ear and in result he got up and wrapped his hand around your neck. His mood took a 180 and you were getting wetter and wetter by the second.

“Y/N, you better be ready to take whatever the hell I give you since you want to whore yourself out to me. I will make you feel like a fucking whore since you want to be one so bad.” He flipped you and had your body pressed up against the wall. He pulled down your leggings and you felt him already pressing up against your ass. He tapped between your thighs to indicate for you to spread them and you did it with no fight. He started to rub your cunt agonizingly slow to tease you and he let out a low chuckle. “I barely even touched you and your pussy is already so wet and sloppy for me. Christ, you really are a slut. I wonder if Taehyung knows how much of a slut you are.” You shook your head and stuck out your ass to press further against him. 

He ripped your panties off and with no warning he slipped two fingers into you with no resistance considering how turned on you are right now. “You definitely are a whore for me, you can take two of my fingers with barely any prep. I wonder if you can take more?” You nodded and this was not the answer he wanted. He removed his fingers from inside you and gave a loud slap to your ass. “Use your fucking words. If you wanna fuck a grown man you’re gonna answer me and give me the respect a grown man deserves.” “Y-yes sir. I want more of your fingers please.” He fulfilled your request and put an additional finger in your pussy and this had you screaming out in please. If he kept this up you would be cumming in no time. You were already starting to clench and Seokjin was having none of it. “You’re gonna cum on my fucking cock and that’s final.” He took out your fingers and he left you as a whimpering mess against the wall.

“Get on your knees and do what useful whores do by sucking my cock.” You obeyed and waited with baited breath. Once he pulled down his pants your mouth instantly salivated. He was so much bigger than you could’ve ever imagined and it had your whole body tingling with excitement. You took it in your mouth and instantly you knew that you couldn’t get more than half of him down your throat. Seokjin was definitely enjoying the sight of you struggling to deepthroat his dick. “Aw, poor slut can’t even take daddy’s cock. Looks like someone should go back to fucking stupid little teenage boys.” This lit a fire under your ass and you were determined to take more of his cock now. You needed to prove yourself to him. You started to gag around him trying to take more of him and this was enough to bring him close to cumming. 

He yanked your hair to remove your mouth and he slapped your cheek indicating for you to stand up. He quickly admired your tear stained cheeks and the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. Your fantasies were coming true when Seokjin came behind you and took one of your arms to bend you across his desk. You spread your legs and felt the excitement inside you when you could feel him lining up against your pussy. In one swift motion he came close to bottoming out in your pussy and you let out a screaming moan that was out of pleasure and pain. “Little girl you have to be fucking quiet if you want to continue doing this.” You tried your best to try and quiet your moans, but he just felt so fucking good. Your pussy started to clench again and you knew the tightening in the pit of your stomach was about to pop. “Yeah, be the little fucking slut you are and cream all over daddy’s big fucking cock. You’re taking me so well baby.” His words of encouragement made you completely let go and you were arching your back from how strong your orgasm was. You knew Seokjin was also close because his thrusts were getting faster and sloppier. “Fuck your cunt feels so good wrapped around me. I bet you want me to cum in you. You wanna be filled with my fucking kids huh?” “Yes fuck please! I want your cum so bad!” This was all he needed to hear and he was dumping his cum deep inside of you and it felt so good. 

Once you put your clothes back on you heard the front door open. The timing couldn’t be anymore perfect. “Hey Y/N I’m back! Sorry it took so long. The traffic was crazy. I hope you’re hungry!” “I’m starving! Thanks again for the lunch, Tae.” You scampered out of the office and gave one last wink to Mr. Kim before you went to eat. 

Notes: I got really inspired to write a DILF fic after reading some of @taesinferno content (which is super good go check them out!). If you enjoyed what you read then please like and reblog. If you would like to support my work further you can give me a Kofi.

[misora-msby]

花火 | chapter one : moon

花火 (fireworks) | chapter one : moon

themes / warnings: medieval japan au (sengoku era), supernatural au, death, fluff, angst

pairing: kitsune!suna x fem!reader

word count: 7.0k

notes: part one of a series! it’s not 100% accurate to shintoism and japanese folklore but i did my best to research it and change as little as possible! still, i hope you enjoy this and stick around for the next parts too!

edit from the future : part two can be found here

Rintarou doesn’t remember how he became a kitsune spirit. 

It was just that one summer day he found himself sleeping in front of a manmade structure (a shrine to the god Inari as he would later learn) with a boy of preteen age standing over him. 

That boy, Shinsuke, would teach him and two other foxes, Atsumu and Osamu, how to do their jobs - protecting the priests, priestesses, and shrine maidens living nearby, and delivering the prayers of visitors to the god. It wasn’t an overly difficult job though, and more often than not, Rintarou found himself either running around the shrine grounds with the other two or sleeping in a comfortable spot he found. 

A few years later, the three of them even gained the ability to shapeshift into humans. They were completely amused with how similar Atsumu and Osamu looked, and how Suna’s eyes looked almost the exact same as his fox form, though it greatly upset them that their human forms were much shorter and younger than that of Shinsuke’s. He had to reassure them that someday they were likely to grow to his height or even taller. 

It was just a matter of time, similar to how they had to wait to become strong enough to become human.

Time, Rintarou would eventually learn, was rarely ever on his side.

It was a perfect day for a nap on the roof; a cooling wind blew through the air, preventing Rintarou’s robes from sticking to his skin. The sky was cloudy enough to block out the sun while not being abundant enough to make him worry about a sudden downpour, and the sweet scent of flowers blooming filled the air. Though there weren’t many bouquets in the area, a fox’s strong sense of smell could detect the scent of wisterias carried on the wind. 

After a bit of twisting and turning to find the perfect position to sleep in, Rintarou was woken by the sound of footsteps and chatter. Shuffling to the edge of the roof, he narrowed his eyes upon seeing a family of six walking in. 

“Today, your mom and dad are going to teach you how to pray. We want to pray for your mom and new sibling, okay?” a man spoke to the children who replied with a chorus of “Yes”s. 

“Ah,” Rintarou remembered, “Inari-sama is the god of so many things… Foxes, rice, sake, fertility, agriculture… Why couldn’t they give some of the work to the other gods… we have so much work to do.” 

He figured he might as well do his job while the other three were doing other jobs around or out of the grounds and began to inspect them carefully. Fortunately there were no malicious spirits attached to them, nor could he sense any by the red torii gates at the foot of the mountain slope on which the shrine resided. 

But as Rintarou inspected them from atop the rooftop, he noticed the youngest child of the family, the only daughter, was rather pretty. She looked to be about his age, though he knew she had obviously seen far fewer winters than he had due to the way time progressed for him as a spirit. 

Dressed in a red kimono with her hair just reaching her shoulders in a simple bob like most girls her age, he thought she was the prettiest girl who had ever come to the shrine. He couldn’t understand why his stomach suddenly felt funny, like it was jumping around inside his body. 

Suddenly, their eyes met and that feeling spread to more parts than just his stomach. Big glossy eyes stared up at him in awe while his own fox-like eyes widened. An awfully warm feeling came to his cheeks and the boy quickly scampered away from the edge of the roof, towards the back of the building where they wouldn’t be able to see him. 

Rintarou sat still for a moment, knees to his chest. He took in deep breaths while keeping his cool hands pressed to his cheek and chest. Was she a malevolent spirit?! He thought that could be the only reason for nearly every part of his body to be tingling and causing his heart to want to jump out from his throat. 

And yet he wanted to keep his gaze upon her. To look once again into those bright eyes and to memorise her pretty form. 

He decided to do just that. 

With graceful steps, Rintarou hopped off of the roof and onto the stone tiles. His feet made no sound as he ran over to hide behind a tree and watched as the family made their prayers. He watched as she reached up, struggling to drop her coin into the offering box while his dainty but pudgy fingers gripping onto the bark tightly to prevent himself from running forward and tossing it in for her. 

But surely an evil spirit wouldn’t go through that trouble with praying right? She had to be a regular human. Even the head priest was smiling at the entire family. But he still couldn’t understand why she gave him such a funny feeling. 

Before he could be spotted again, he ran off into the forest to avoid her gaze which caused all these problems in him in the first place. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

A few moons had passed, the cool breeze had become warmer and the pink petals floating in the wind had been replaced by green leaves. The song of young animals had also left, the nights now being filled with the loud croaking of cicadas and the much quieter buzzing of fireflies. The air had become thicker and warmer too, which wasn’t quite something Rintarou enjoyed. But what he did enjoy was the festival occurring tonight. 

Every year the humans would hold an extra special festival in the summer and launch fireworks. Though he didn’t care too much for the spirits of humans, aside from that one girl who he had never seen again since, he did care for their aesthetics. Whether it was the pattern on the fabric of a woman’s kimono, or the design in the pendants and amulets that humans wore around their necks or held in their pockets, he thought they were all rather fascinating. But as much as he wanted to go down and look carefully in person in his human form, hiding his tail was still too difficult for him in the sea of humans, and even if he tried to make himself invisible, children were so painfully receptive to spirits that he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. 

Strangely, he could hide his ears if he wished. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that their tails were directly representative of their level of power so they were harder to hide.

As he sat atop a lone rock in the forest, he could smell the scent of hot snacks wafting up the mountain. Perhaps he’d make an appearance as a fox and hope that some kind humans would give him and Osamu some snacks. They always loved to treat the three little foxes running around the shrine. He was lucky he still only had one tail, otherwise it would gain many stares. He guessed that must be a problem for someone like Shinsuke-senpai who already had three tails.

Rintarou hopped off of his rock, ready to head down and check over the festival with his friends, when he heard sobbing from somewhere in the forest. 

With the way the orange sun had already gone to sleep, he knew that he had to look for the source of the sound. He was meant to be a zenko after all, a celestial fox associated with the god Inari. So while he wanted to just go down and have fun with his friends, he had to first attend to this matter.

Using the speed granted to him, it didn’t take long for him to locate the source. His senses were too strong to not be able to. 

What he found was someone who he had never expected to see again.

“You…” the word left him in a near gasp.

You were the girl from a few months ago, crouching under a tree and sobbing. Your hair had grown a bit longer and this time you wore a light pink yukata with a dark pink obi. The eyes that had captivated him so easily last time were now red and puffy as your little hands rubbed at them to rid them of the tears which poured.

Rintarou crouched in front of you who hadn’t noticed him amongst your crying. “Why are you crying?” he asked in his quiet voice.

You looked up and gasped before quickly wiping away your tears and snot.

“I- I was playing hide and seek with my onii-chans… but it’s been so long and it’s scary and then I fell down and it hurts…” your shaky voice hiccuped as you revealed your scratched up and dirty palms. Looking carefully, Rintarou realised the front of your yukata was dirty too. 

“Oh… Should we go find them?” he asked.

You shook your head quickly, “I don’t wanna go to them! Then I’ll lose!” 

Rintarou pursed his lips slightly, wondering why you wouldn’t want to be found when you were injured. Was hide and seek that important to human children? He had played it a couple of times with the twins but it was merely a way to pass time to them. 

“Then… do you want to fix your hands?” he asked. 

You replied with a nod, your sniffling ceasing. 

In reply, Rintarou untied the inro from the obi on his hip, a small container made of lacquered paper in which he kept healing salve, cloth, (and a snack or two) in the case of an emergency. 

“Show me your hands.” he said, to which you obeyed and held out your dirty hands. The kitsune carefully took your hands and began cleaning them off with a cloth, taking note of how warm you were. 

“Your hands are cold, are you sick?” you asked. 

Rintarou looked up at you for a moment, wondering how he should reply. He knew it had something to do with him being a spirit, but he didn’t want to say that. “I’ve always been cold.” he simply said and applied the salve to your skin. After wrapping them up in a new strip of cloth, he tied the inro back together and hung it on his hip again. 

“Wow, thank you…?” You exclaimed before trailing off as you realised you didn’t know his name.

The kitsune narrowed his eyes, not understanding you. After all, he had lived the past few decades around the same few people and had no reason to give his name.

“Um… what’s your name?” you finally asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Oh… Rintarou,” he said upon finally understanding.

“I’m (Y/N). Thank you for fixing my hand, Rintarou-kun! It already feels better!” you grinned and squeezed his hands to show you were already regaining your strength.

Though upon hearing his name from your lips and coming to the realisation that he had been holding your hands for so long, a blush crept up his cheeks. His eyes widened for a second though they quickly returned to fit his near emotionless state. “It’s nothing,” he quickly said, looking to the side to avoid your gaze, “Anyways, what do you want to do now? You don’t want to go find your brothers yet, right.”

You thought for a moment before asking, “Do you want to play together?”

“Play?”

“Yeah. We can go to the festival!”

At that, Rintarou immediately shook his head, “I don’t like crowds.” It was a lie, he couldn’t care less about crowds if he were in his fox form but if he had to stay a human, he couldn’t bear to spend so much energy in hiding his tail which still had a chance of being seen.

“Then… what do you want to do?” you asked, pouting slightly. 

He thought for a moment. What could you two do? 

Then he sniffed the air. There was the smell of a match being lit but the absence of incense. His sensitive ears could also hear the sound of people gathering and shuffling about in anticipation.

“Come with me, I’ll show you something cool.” He took you by the wrist and you two ran side by side into the forest. Though he had to annoyingly slow his pace for you, you both managed to reach his intended destination in time:

A small glade in the middle of the forest where he assumed a ritual must have taken place decades ago. It was surrounded by purple wisteria trees, as if they created a natural veil to this secret world where fireflies floated on the grass surrounding a single tall boulder. The sounds of the festival were far away now, Rintarou was certain that his guest could no longer hear them with how far up the mountain they were. 

“Quickly, climb up the rock.” He helped push you up the rock, slightly polished yet rough from years of rain and animals scratching upon it. The fireflies in the vicinity had become startled and gathered at the fringes of the glade instead of around the rock, but he figured it was a consequence that came with bringing a human for once to his secret place. Once he had confirmed you had a stable seat, he jumped up and took a seat beside you. 

“What are we doing here, Rintarou?” you asked curiously.

“Wait a bit… there.” He pointed up at the sky where a flower of red and yellow burst among the stars. The loud bang followed two seconds later, making the girl beside him almost jump in fright before becoming entranced at the sight of more fireworks following the first to bloom in the sky.

Reds, yellows, pinks, oranges, whatever colour you named could be found in the starry sky. Bursting and blooming with brilliance, providing just a fleeting amount of beauty before wilting just like a flower whose time had come to be picked from the garden. 

If you asked Rintarou yesterday what the most beautiful sight was, he would have said that it was sitting alone on his favourite rock while the wind blew on a spring day, watching the clouds swim by while joined by floating wisteria petals. It was a sight he spent every day of spring trying to recreate. But if you asked him today what he thought the most beautiful sight was, he surely would have said it was this very moment; sitting beside the only human who he had ever talked to, and who had caused him to feel absolutely captivated, watching the quickly disappearing and reappearing garden in the night sky.

However, all good things had to come to an end, and before he knew it, the night had been filled with a deafening silence, and the sky had become nearly pitch black with the new clouds of smoke.

“I think it’s time to go back,” he stood up to face you, “You definitely won the hide and seek game if you’ve been missing for this long.” 

You nodded in reply and carefully scrambled down the rock, landing on the grass with a soft “oof”. Rintarou jumped down, landing with barely any sound before holding out his hand. “Let’s go,” he said and took your hand as you two carefully walked through the forest.

Though it was dark and late at night, the bright moon was kind enough to allow you to not trip over your own feet as he led you down the path to the shrine which he had already memorised with ease.

“Can we come back here next year?” you asked while squeezing Rintarou’s hand, “It was really pretty.”

“Next year? Sure. Actually, I live at the shrine so you can come visit any time.” He didn’t know why he just said that. He never really talked to people, so why did he want to do this now?

“Okay! I’ll see you then!” you grinned, and Rintarou gave the slightest hint of a smile back.

“(Y/N)! There you are!” a woman cried the moment the two had stepped foot onto the stone shrine floors, running over to give her daughter a great big hug. “We were looking for you all over! Don’t go missing like that!” she sobbed, stroking her hair and dusting off the dirt from her clothes. 

“Sorry, mama. I was playing hide and seek with nii-chan.” you mumbled, allowing your mother to straighten up your looks.

“I know, he told me. But don’t hide in the forest, ok? It’s dangerous and dark and you never know what might be- Oh dear, what happened to your hands?!” the woman asked, inspecting the bandages.

“I fell down and Rintarou put medicine for me! Rintarou, do you wanna-” you turned to wave the boy over but found he was no longer there. “Huh?”

Right then, a shrine maiden hurried over. “Oh! (L/N)-san, I’m glad you managed to find your daughter!” she smiled.

“Onee-san, where’s Rintarou?” The shrine maiden cocked her head at the question from the little girl.

“Rintarou? I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about…” she replied in confusion.

“Eh… but he said he lives here! Um… he’s like… just a bit taller than me, and he has black, no, dark brown hair. Oh, and his eyes are yellow and like… they look like a fox!” Despite your explanations, the shrine maiden still had difficulty in knowing the identity of this person until an idea popped into her mind.

“Since this is a shrine to the god Inari, do you think you met a kitsune spirit?” she asked, “Though kitsunes rarely appear as young boys, there is the possibility.” The young girl gasped and thought for a second.

“Maybe…” you glanced back at the trees before turning to your mother. “I’m sleepy…”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you home, dear.” The woman held her daughter’s bandaged hand and waved goodbye to the shrine maiden before turning to head down the stairs of the shrine and to go back to the main festival.

While this happened, Rintarou had watched it all from behind a large tree trunk, just out of sight. His heart felt funny and he wished you didn’t have to go. Even if you said you would come back, he wished you didn’t leave in the first place. 

“Hey, Rin! Where were ya? We waited for so long next to the okonomiyaki stall!” Atsumu’s boisterous voice spoke, nearly frightening the boy who had been so deep in his thoughts. 

“There was a human lost in the forest so I had to help them,” he replied in his usual calm voice.

“Ya never miss the chance to walk with us in the festival though.” Osamu pointed out while taking a bite from one of the many toriniku sticks he held. Rintarou stiffened slightly, knowing that he was right.

“She was hurt.”

“‘She’?! A girl? Yer kiddin’ me, did ya get a girlfriend, Rin Rin?!” Atsumu grabbed his friend’s shoulders tightly.

“Nothing of that sort…” Rintarou replied though his cheeks turned pink.

“Maybe,” he realised, “maybe my feelings towards you are in that sort of way…”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Ever since your first meeting that summer, you would visit rather often. Most of the time was either spent idly walking in the forest while talking about various topics, or laying on the grass of the clearing while watching the clouds pass.

Many moons passed and Rintarou was starting to despise the time he would have to see you walk down the road from the shrine, back to your family’s house in the village at the foot of the mountain. Oh if only there were a way to keep you with him forever, he wished. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps on dirt approaching him. 

“Rintarou! Over here!” the voice he had missed so dearly spoke up. He jolted out of his thoughts and almost fell out of the tree he sat in, but he quickly regained his composure and hopped down.

“(Y/N), you surprised me.” he asked nonchalantly, as if being alone with you didn’t make his heart feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest.

“Really?! That’s a first!” you giggled before squinting your eyes at the top of his head. The kitsune became worried, were his ears visible? Even though you two had been friends for almost a year now, he still hadn’t told you of him being a spiritual creature. He was worried that you would become scared and that you would never talk to him again. 

Though those fears were dismissed for now as you began to grin cheekily, “Heh, looks like I’m taller than you now!” 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes and stood up straight so your heights matched. “No we’re not, I was just slouching.”

“You’re always slouching!” 

“Am not.”

“Are too!” 

“Whatever you say. Don’t you have prayers to do? I’ll de- I’ll wait for you to finish,” he asked, rather relieved that he didn’t accidentally admit that he would deliver your prayers to Inari.

“Mm… I’ll pray later! I wanted to play with you right now!” you spoke, pleasantly surprising the young kitsune. “And I wanted to check something…” 

Rintarou’s eyes widened in a mix of fear and shock as a hand suddenly lunged to his side before he felt dainty fingers stroke the fur of his tail. A flame burst from the tail in reaction to the surprise, and he could feel his stomach plummet to hell when he saw the look on your face.

You knew.

Instinctively, he jumped back about three metres, his body sliding on the dirt. His hands made contact with the ground, his lengthening nails digging into the soft soil. Unknowingly, his golden eyes turned a shade of vermillion while large brown ears sprouted from his head, no longer invisible, and his tail waved menacingly behind him. If it weren’t for the human form he still had, one would have thought he was a fox preparing to attack.

It was then that he realised that your body had begun to shake. Your hands trembled in fear and your eyes were watery. There was a light thud as your knees buckled and you fell to the floor, face pale as a sheet. 

What had he done?

Rintarou quickly relaxed his body and stood up, embarrassed. His eyes faded back to their usual golden colour and his long nails returned to their usual length. Seeing no reason to hide his tail or ears, he kept them in view. 

“Why?” he asked softly. 

“I- I didn’t actually...“ Words couldn’t leave you, they only stumbled out from your shaking lips. You were still frozen on the floor. 

“Now you know. And you’re scared.” he mumbled. 

Oh Inari-sama, why did he have to fall for her? 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Rintarou spoke and reached a hand out, hoping you would take it and stand up like you had on that summer night.

But you only flinched. 

Seeing that, he knew your friendship had changed. 

Rintarou turned around, his tail swishing with his movement before he sprinted off into the wood, fists clenched tightly in frustration. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It had been three hours or so. Perhaps he could return to the shrine now, he thought. You must’ve finally gotten up and went home. 

He had fully exposed himself right then and though he wished he hadn’t, he knew he couldn’t change it. All he could do was sit on the rock and wish to visit that night once again. 

“Rintarou.” 

Shinsuke’s voice, albeit calm, had never sounded scarier to the younger kitsune. 

“That girl has been waiting for ya.” 

“You don’t know that. She’s probably gone home.” 

“She has not. (Y/N) has been sittin’ on the shrine stairs for two hours now, waitin’ either for you or for the sun to set.” Rintarou was surprised to hear that from Shinsuke. Especially since he had never mentioned your name to the other kitsune before. 

“And judging by the time,” Shinsuke started, “Ya better hurry. She’s got some things to say that I think’d sound better from her mouth than from this senpai.” 

With a nod, Rintarou immediately sprung to his feet and took off down the mountain, letting both gravity and his desire to talk carry him with a speed he hadn’t felt before. He came to a screeching halt as he came out of the woods, seeing you sitting on the stone stairs while fiddling with your little drawstring bag. 

“(Y/N),” he called out, making you jump slightly in surprise to see him again. 

You quickly stood up and began to apologise, “Rintarou, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that and I know I should’ve asked but if I did then I know you’d say you weren’t a kitsune. It’s just that I’ve been suspecting since last year but was always too nervous to ask and I know it was really stupid of-”

“Wait a second.”

The phrase made the avalanche of words stop immediately. 

“You knew?”

“Well… yeah,” you admitted, “I saw your tail a couple of times and sometimes you jump really high, or jump from a high place and you’re fine. And you always make sure I don’t see your back, I guess because of your tail.”

Well. Rintarou hadn’t realised how many mistakes he had been making. 

“I see… You don’t hate me or anything?”

“No way!” you spoke with a big smile. “I think it’s so cool! I’m friends with a kitsune. That’s just... woah!” you waved your hands exaggeratedly to show your emotions which you couldn’t put into words.

“I always thought you’d be scared so I didn’t say anything.” Rintarou admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His cheeks had become a dark shade of pink now. 

“Mm, I wouldn’t be scared of you. You’re nice to me, and you’re a zenko so you wouldn’t do anything bad. The thing just now scared me a bit though, but I know that was because I suddenly touched you when I shouldn’t have.” 

There was a pause as you two thought for a while, figuring out what to say next. 

“Then… can we still be friends?” the kitsune asked shyly, his heart beating with joy to know he hadn’t lost his friend and the girl he had feelings for. 

“Of course.” 

The two of you smiled toothily at each other as the sun began its descent. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

“Rin, let’s go to the rock again today!”

“Mm, sure.” 

The summer festival had come again, marking one year since the day you two properly spoke. To Rintarou, it felt unbelievably short and long. Because of the way you visited almost daily, it felt like you had been an integral part of his life. Days you didn’t come to the shrine were spent lazily running around the forest with the twins or acting as Inari’s messenger while thinking about the next day you were meant to come. Yet knowing that you had only been there for one winter of his life versus the many he had experienced made him realise how short of a time you had been there for.

It was funny to think despite the relatively short time he spent with you, he felt like you were the most important thing to him these days. 

So even though he would have to miss another year of the summer festival, he didn’t mind spending it with just you in quiet instead. 

Light footsteps made their way through the forest, the loud laughs and shouts from the crowd below shrinking until they were no more than far off echoes. The path was no longer lit by the warm yellow festival lights from below but rather by the stars and moonlight.

“It’s just as pretty as last year,” you hummed, admiring the fireflies as you pushed back the flowers of the wisteria tree to enter the glade. While you had both visited this place often on your many visits to the shrine, you always had to go back before dark, so this was the rarest sight for you.

After climbing up the rock with ease, an experience you had gotten very used to after multiple times, you waited for Rintarou to jump up before settling yourself comfortably.

“Oh! I bought these before coming up!” you pulled out two small paper packages from your kinchaku, a small drawstring bag your mother made for you with flower-patterned cloth, and unwrapped them. In the first were four pieces of daifuku, and in the other were six small pieces of warabimochi. “I thought we might get hungry!” 

Rintarou smiled and quickly picked a piece of warabimochi before tossing it into his mouth. It bounced on the edge of his lip before entering though, causing the roasted flour to form a little cloud, making a small mess on his face. You giggled at the sight of him coughing a little on the confection. The thought that even yokais like him could be dorky and mess up amused you greatly.

The evening passed quickly, far too quickly for either of your likings. As the moon and stars took their position in the dark blanket above, you two laughed and ate your snacks. It wasn’t the most filling but you two felt happy enough just talking to each other. 

Though your laughter eventually died as the topic of what you were doing tomorrow came up. The once bright smile on your face faded and your gaze couldn’t meet Rintarou’s. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He asked, “Do you want to go to get more food?” 

“My um… my parents said I can’t come back to play anymore. They said it’s no good to simply talk with boys anymore. And I have to start studying.” Your voice was soft, the topic scaring you, but the kitsune could easily pick it up. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“They said I’m growing older and someday I have to be married. Before that I have to learn to cook and do a bunch of tasks to run the household and well… They say the war’s gonna reach us soon and my family has a little land but we aren’t super influential so it’s especially important I marry someone good.” 

He had heard of the war. A few domains away the territories were being fought over by some big warlords and while he didn’t know the details, he remembered Shinsuke saying it would likely change the course of history. 

But to think that would affect you who were merely a child. You had only turned 10 this year… the thought confused and saddened Rintarou. 

“They said I have to prepare properly to become a woman,” you explained, “So I can’t waste my time running around a forest with a boy from the shrine.”

“You’re getting married?” he asked. Why did he want to know that more than anything else you mentioned?

“Huh? No no! I’m just preparing to. But I really don’t want to. I hate it so much. I won’t get to see you in forever, Rin!” Tears came to your eyes as you threw your arms around his shoulders. 

The boy awkwardly wrapped his arms around your body and patted your back, letting you cry onto his jinbei. He just had no idea what to say, what was right to say, or what you wanted to hear. Even if he had surpassed you in years he had lived long ago, his mental age was roughly the same as yours if not younger.

“We’ll see each other again, I’m sure,” was the only thing he could think to say right now, “Even if it’ll be a while.”

You sniffed and looked up from his shoulder. Your eyes met, staring at each other in silence.

“Really?” your voice squeaked, body still tense until Rintarou gently stroked your hair. Strangely your body immediately untensed and you felt at ease. Maybe it was a power of his, though you were sure it was just him.

“Yeah. I promise.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever even get to come back.”

Rintarou thought for a moment, what could he say? He was never that great with words. 

“If you’re lonely then… look at the moon. And the sky. I’ll be looking at it too, just like we always do.” he replied, cheeks turning just a bit pink. He was glad you couldn’t see his face right now. It sounded funny, but he remembered hearing something like that from a storyteller at one of the summer festivals.

You seemed a bit hesitant at first but eventually you smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that, Rin.”

He let go of you just as the fireworks began to burst in the sky, prompting you to do the same. The two of you turned your gazes to the sky to watch the performance in the sky just as you had one year ago.

But this time, he noticed that your hand rested on top of his and your head was on his shoulder.

He never wanted this night to end.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Rintarou thought about that night often.

Even if nearly seven summers had passed and he had not seen you once.

He wondered if he would ever see you again, he wanted to see you again. You were someone he could never forget so he hoped you hadn’t forgotten him too.

He wondered where you were, maybe you had moved to a different village and visited a different shrine. Maybe you were living as a servant in that new shogun’s castle. Maybe because of the war you had…

Rintarou shook his head, that couldn’t be the case. He refused to believe it. He just hoped you were okay wherever you were.

As he sat on his rock, gazing up at the sky once again in hopes of today being the day you would return, he sighed to himself. The shrine was being quite noisy these days and he couldn’t be bothered to be around all the sound so he had stayed away. There was some sort of event they were preparing for, he wasn’t sure what exactly but he didn’t care that much. He’d deal with the prayers and such afterwards.

Until he sniffed the air and smelled your familiar scent.

Rintarou had never sat up straighter before practically propelling himself off of the rock to run down to the shrine.

He would finally get to see you again! He wondered if you had grown much taller than him in the years, as he hadn’t grown all that much since that summer day. He cursed his slow growth as a kitsune but in truth it didn’t bother him that much. Though he wondered if you had matured a lot and if you would still be willing to run around in the forest with him. You probably would, right? Just for fun? Rintarou would even slow down if you wished, so you would, right?

His heart was racing as he sprinted down the mountain slope towards the shrine before coming to an abrupt halt. 

A wedding ceremony...

And you were the bride?

Even if you looked completely different, wearing a pure white shiromuku while your hair was done up and hidden in the white wataboshi veil, he could still tell it was you. Even with the heavy makeup on your now matured face, he knew it was you.

Rintarou felt his guts want to simultaneously drop out from him and to also come out from his throat. There was an intense pain in his chest and throat which made him just want to scream in utter agony but all he could do was stand among the trees, completely still and yet trembling like the autumn leaves falling around him as his eyes widened in a mixture of intense emotions.

“Look at that wedding, ‘Samu. We haven’t had one of those around in a while have we?” Rintarou turned to see the twins standing a couple metres away from them, watching the ceremony as well.

“Yeah. I guess with the war now people are getting married less.” Osamu replied to his older brother, “But that’s one of the shogun’s vassals’ vassals. Or somethin’ like that. So no wonder he can afford to.” 

You were getting married to someone like that?

Rintarou stared at the man beside you - he was taller, stronger, and looked far older than he was, especially dressed in his plain black kimono, haori, and hakama set. The kitsune’s small hand crept up his chest and beat it lightly, as if trying to get his heart to restart itself but it just felt painful as he slowly crouched on the soil.

“You were waiting for her, weren’t ya?” Shinsuke’s calm voice spoke from behind the younger kitsune.

As much as he wanted to, Rintarou couldn’t turn away from the wedding. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the smile on your red lips despite how painful it was. Words couldn’t express how badly he wanted to hug you and ask if you remembered him, to wipe the makeup from your face in the same manner he would wipe the dirt from your cheeks after you tripped into mud on those days you played together, to ask you to even talk to him once more. But he knew there was a high chance he would never see you ever again after today.

“Yeah. I was.” the boy sighed as calmly as he could, though it wasn’t hard for Shinsuke to hear the shake in his voice.

The four spirits watched as you and your new husband partook in the san san kudo, drinking sake from the three cups and officially recognising each other as spouses. Your family and friends cheered to see the completion of the ceremony. Smiles could be seen on nearly every person on the shrine grounds and as much as Rintarou hated to admit it, you wore a smile too.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he could have been the one to put that smile on your face. 

All he could do now was to wish for your continued happiness as he passed on your prayers to the god.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Many years had passed. If he was correct, twenty summers had passed, though he wasn’t counting anymore. Twenty summers without you felt like an awfully long time, though time felt like it was flying these days. Certainly faster than the seven years before then where everyday was spent longing for you.

Rintarou noticed that the four foxes had grown taller too, though it seemed like he still had some time to grow. He had grown two new tails too. He wondered how you looked now. If he could he would have left the shrine to see you, but with the war going on more prayers were being offered than ever. 

He wondered if it was foolish of him, but for nearly every day of the past twenty years, he had been clinging on to the hope that one day you would come visit him. Of course, your feelings would be different, but that didn’t matter. All he wanted was to be able to see you again.

Though he hadn’t seen you, he remembered seeing your mother come to the shrine about a year after the wedding to thank Inari for the safe delivery of your new twins. “That’s because of us!” Atsumu boasted once he heard the news (though Shinsuke insisted it was not). Aside from that, Rintarou never heard about you.

Until one day.

“Do you remember that samurai who got married to a woman from this village about twenty years ago?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“The woman passed away last week from some sickness.”

“No way…”

“Yeah, I think the old shrine maidens said she used to come to the shrine a lot as a kid to play in the woods. They liked her a lot.”

“Then it’s good they aren’t around to hear about her either…”

“Mm, I think so too.”

Rintarou’s skin turned to ice upon hearing the news. Suddenly his usual position on the rooftop no longer felt so comforting. His head pounded and his heart felt like it had stopped, a feeling he hadn’t felt since the day he first saw you. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

He just continued to lie on the roof, hands folded over his stomach as the once soft sky suddenly became a glaring shade of blue and white. Even if he closed his eyes, it hurt. 

Everything hurt. 

He continued to lay there for the next few hours, mind empty as he closed his eyes and simply thought of the sky and of you. Memories of watching the clouds, of climbing trees, of fishing in the little lake, and especially of the fireworks. 

By the time he opened his eyes, Rintarou noticed the moon and stars had already taken their place. It was a sky he had only shared with you twice but somehow looking at it always made him feel comforted; knowing even if you two were far away, you were still watching the same sky, moon, and stars. Just as he said all those years ago. 

But that was no longer the case.

He blinked and the twinkling stars had become blurry. Suddenly they had multiplied and the kitsune felt liquid trail down the side of his face. He laughed to himself lightly and sat up to wipe away the tears. 

The once cooling wind of autumn suddenly grew a chilling bite as it blew a cloud to obscure the pale moon above.

As he looked up at the sky, he thought of how foolish he had been to cling to the hope that you would someday come back to see him, or to have fallen for you in the first place. 

And oh how foolish Rintarou had been to think of the most beautiful girl he had seen whenever he looked up at the once beautiful sky.

[addicted2escapism]

when you travel with a jaguar | geraskier

summary: the positives and negatives of your travel companion being able to turn into a big cat

read it on Ao3

The first time Jaskier turned into a cat, Geralt was shocked– at the very least. There was a multitude of reasons for him to feel this way. Geralt was a Witcher. He should have known, should have been able to tell that Jaskier was actually a– well, whatever he was. The changing was also extremely abrupt. There was no phasing in and out of forms. One moment Jaskier the bard was there, and within the blink of an eye, a jaguar stood in his place.

That part was the least shocking bit of it all. That Jaskier wasn’t just a cat, he was a big cat. A predator. A beast that brutally tore out the throat of the man that had been accosting them, while Geralt stood frozen like an idiotic brick wall. Now, it was sitting, staring up at Geralt with wide eyes and an inquisitive chirp. The innocent expression didn’t match the way it’s–Jaskier’s–tail twitched back and forth irritatedly, beating against the ground repeatedly.

Geralt had many questions. Why didn’t his medallion hum? Wasn’t this magic? How long had Jaskier been like this? Was he cursed?

Instead, all that came out was an exasperated, “fuck”.  

It took another five seconds for him to regain his awareness (and suggest that they should probably get out of this town).

Night had already fallen so they didn’t travel far, only putting a safe amount of distance between them and the town they were planning to stay in, before making camp in the woods. Geralt had led Roach on foot, who was very displeased about being torn away from her stall, and didn’t seem to be afraid of Jaskier in the slightest. The jaguar had prowled along next to him the whole time, looking through the trees and into the darkness. Geralt realized that in this form, Jaskier’s night vision was probably up to par with his own.

Once Geralt had decided on a spot to settle down in for the night, Jaskier bolted away before the Witcher could utter a word to stop him. Creating a fire was left to him, since Jaskier clearly wouldn’t be able to do it. A faint scampering of footsteps could be heard while he gathered kindling, and by the time he cast Igni, Jaskier was trotting towards him with two rabbits clamped in his jaw.

It was a wary sight, despite Geralt knowing that it wasn’t a wild animal. Well, it was, in a way. But it wasn’t. It was Jaskier, who unhinged his jaw and dropped the rabbits at Geralt’s feet. The Witcher sat beside the fire and began to skin the two animals, and the next time he glanced over at Jaskier, he’s human again. Human with this expression that screamed nervous and concerned. Geralt didn’t like it.

“You’re not a therianthope, a werecat,” For once, Geralt spoke first. “So what are you?”

“Ah, a cursed bard?” Jaskier supplied, shoulders raising to his ears, knees drawn up to his chest. Cursed, so Geralt was right. “Although, I don’t really think it’s a bad curse.”

His additional comment was confusing. What kind of curse wasn’t bad?

“I have full control over when I shift.” Jaskier explained. “And I was going to tell you! Well– eventually. I mean, I was going to do so with much more style! And in a much less violent manner. But, here we are. That moronic man just made me so angry, it slipped out!”

“So, you don’t have full control?” Geralt narrowed his eyes. A slip of the tongue was common for Jaskier. Accidentally changing into a jaguar and mauling a man to death over some harsh words was not.

Jaskier glared back, but his body relaxed a bit from the familiar pattern of their bickering.

“I do. I just hadn’t shifted in awhile because I’ve been traveling with you for so long. Normally when I get that mad, I stab, not bite.”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier did tend to stab people.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Jaskier sighed, staring at the rabbit cooking over the fire. “At least now I can shift more often.”

And he did. Very often. Sometimes Geralt wondered if he preferred being a cat, and that the only thing holding him back was the ability to sing as a human. It was certainly a welcomed (but not necessary) improvement on their companionship.

Jaskier often took over the role of hunting for their dinner, dragging full-sized deer back to camp and dropping it at Geralt’s feet with a chirp. He was also quite proficient in fishing, and would use his tail to lure fish nearer to the surface. In cat form, Geralt didn’t have to worry about Jaskier’s ability to keep up with Roach while traveling, and it was nice to have another set of sharp eyes and ears. At first, Geralt assumed Jaskier would be the same reckless bard, only in cat form. But no, Jaskier was every bit attuned to his enhanced senses, and more than capable of using his speed and strength. It made sense, if the Witcher thought about it. The bard put on a fun and harmless facade, but Geralt’s seen enough tavern brawls, and the accompanying malice in Jaskier’s features, to know that he was a force to be reckoned with if need be.

But, as much as the jaguar clearly had a human conscience inside of him, there were certain cat traits that Geralt had to… deal with.

Jaskier was an affectionate human, and the trait only amplified when he was a cat.

When he first started shifting around Geralt, he would stretch out right next to the Witcher at night, the warmth radiating off of his feline form a comfort that Geralt wouldn’t admit to. After a few days, Jaskier started settling closer so that his back was a constant pressure against Geralt’s arm in slumber, even though Geralt didn’t always fall asleep. He only realized that Jaskier was holding back after he worked up the courage to pet him.

The most common form of affection (although Geralt wouldn’t admit that it was, in fact, affection) was the head butting. One time he even did it to Roach. Geralt, with his limited knowledge about wild cats, knew that it was instinctually a form of scent marking. With how often they travelled to new locations, Jaskier was practically relentless. If they stopped on the path, Geralt would earn a headbutt to the hip. If they were sitting around a campfire, Jaskier would press his forehead into Geralt’s shoulder, sometimes as a form of thanks and other times for seemingly no reason at all. The jaguar would pace endlessly beside Roach while Geralt battled a monster, and when the Witcher returned, he’d be rewarded with heavy paws pinning his shoulders to the ground, a headbutt to the forehead, and a soft chuff.

One time, Jaskier had tried to lick him, to groom him. Geralt put a stop to that. A house-cat’s tongue had nothing on a jaguars, the roughness of which could make skin break and bleed with enough persistence.

And then, there was the stalking.

He would never intentionally hurt Geralt, but having a wild animal creeping behind him certainly put his Witcher senses on edge. Geralt could be sitting, cleaning his swords, when suddenly Jaskier would rise to his feet, seemingly in slow motion. He’d keep his head low and prowl towards the Witcher, silent. The white haired man would set his weapons aside, turn his head to look at Jaskier, and Jaskier would pounce. He’d tackle Geralt with 200 pounds of force, wrestling with him in the grass and growling softly. Geralt would put up a fight, of course, and he could win if he wanted to. Most of the time, he let Jaskier get the kill, and if the bard was feeling petty, he’d lay directly on top of his prey, a deadweight atop the Witcher. It happened every time Jaskier wanted to play. Geralt would be subjected to a few minutes of slow motion stalking, Jaskier would reel back on his hind legs (and sometimes wiggle his back end), and then Geralt would get jumped.

Jaguars also seemed to have an affinity for the water. Jaskier would run and jump and splash, and tackle Geralt into the water if he felt extra mischievous. Geralt learned that jaguars were very good swimmers.

The worst was probably the biting.

Sometimes Jaskier forgot that his feline teeth were very sharp. He’d nip at Geralt’s jaw while they laid (cuddled) together, and sometimes a fang would catch in just the right way and draw blood. He’d try to amend it with his sandpaper tongue, which obviously wasn’t that helpful. Other times they’d be playing, and he’d clamp his jaw around Geralt’s forearm, who, if he was lucky, would be wearing armor. More often than not, he’d release the other man’s arm immediately, from either not truly intending to bite hard enough to break through skin, or from being a little jarred at the odd taste and texture of leather in his mouth. But sometimes Jaskier’s cat instincts would go into overdrive, and once his jaw closed around Geralt’s arm, he wouldn’t let go. The Witcher had learned to keep his arm still, as moving it about only caused Jaskier to hold on tighter. Eventually, Jaskier would let go, but if Geralt got the sense that he might not, if the jaguars canines started sinking into his skin, and if the rumbling in the feline’s chest started echoing deep within Geralts, the Witcher would hiss out a warning, “Jaskier”. It would sober the cat up, who’d unlock his jaw and probably apologize with a headbutt.

But these traits weren’t all so bad. Geralt was getting worse and worse at denying any enjoyment from Jaskier’s affections. His denials couldn’t mean much when he went out of his way to give Jaskier’s head a soft pat. He enjoyed when the jaguar wanted to play, although Geralt couldn’t use his full strength on him, it was still a nice energy outlet. Jaskier kept a nice balance between being a bard and being a cat, since it wouldn’t exactly be socially acceptable for Geralt to ask for a room at an inn for him and his wild animal. And of course, Jaskier couldn’t go more than half a day without singing a tune or plucking a few chords. But when it was just the two of them at night, when the sky was dark and the only nearby sound was the crackling of their campfire, Geralt would happily overlook the blood the came with the biting, and the stalking, to have Jaskier’s soft fur and warmth pressed against his side every night.

[brittababbles]

Only Mine - Target Practice part 2

Din Djarin x reader

Author’s Note and Warnings: Target Practice part 2, just in time for new Mando! This is still young!Din. Warnings: some stalkerish tendencies, moderate voyeurism, a creepy guy with abusive behaviors, implied murder, straight up deep throating, unprotected vaginal sex. So all the goods. Enjoy

 You’ve had better days.

Being received by the engineer-in-charge, twenty minutes later than you should have arrived, to be informed that half the fleet was due to have taken off ten minutes ago but certain ships needed repairs that weren’t complete, was not exactly the prelude to a happy, relaxed sort of morning. Not that most mornings were either happy or relaxed on this space station.

The fact that every engineer on the station was scurrying about like so many alarmed rats while every pilot on the station chased after them, in varying states of panic, did nothing to lower your nerves. You trotted obligingly across the hanger, following your boss toward an old and shivering freighter that was coughing out disquieting amounts of bright blue smoke. Your eyes were not fixed on the ship in front of you, however, but scanning the immediate area for a familiar glint of metal.

Interesting. All pilots were here but one, it seemed.

You dropped your tools at the foot of the belching engine and watched the screeching pilot descend the loading ramp. Your boss, Brejor, immediately launched into a heated argument with the small, blue-skinned man, evidently about either payment or your qualifications, which gave you time to examine your patient.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you murmured soothingly, running your hand over the engine’s durasteel external paneling.

Given the smell and color of the smoke being produced, you guessed something was wrong with the fuel injection system, and likely the heat produced from the malfunction was melting half the coatings off the hyperdrive. You sighed and glanced down at your bag. You’d need a hyperspanner, and you didn’t have one with you.

“Be right back,” you muttered, tapping your boss on the shoulder to get his attention.

He threw a grunt back at you before resuming his heated discussion.

You jogged back across the hanger, feeling a little foolish for having just made the same trip in the opposite direction. Reaching one of the storage cabinets, you tugged on the rusted door and stepped into the dimly lit storage room. You ambled mildly among the metal-grate shelves, and, locating the hyperspanner at just-above eyeline, stood on your toes to reach it.

You heard a grunt, then a cackle, from the other side of the metal shelf, and glanced through a gap in the back-stocked parts.

It was extremely hard to misunderstand what you were seeing.

Kneeling on the floor was a young Twi’lek woman. Your brain registered that you’d seen her before, and that you’d learned her name to be Xi’an, but that she was not nearly so familiar as who she knelt in front of. There was hardly any way to mistake the Baskar.

The Twi’lek’s hand was wrapped around Mando’s cock, pumping up and down it’s length with increasing speed. For his part, the Mandalorian was leaning backward against a stack of crates behind him. His head was tipped downward, watching Xi’an’s ministrations on his cock.

You were aware that you should grab your tools and exit the storage room as quickly as possible, but instead you stood, transfixed, your mind lingering between fascination and jealousy.

And, if you were honest with yourself, a touch of arousal.

The Twi’lek girl was speaking, her voice so low that you had to strain your ears to catch what she said.

“You like that, Mando, hmm?” she growled.

He didn’t answer, simply tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the sensation.

And his visor met your eyes.

You rocked back on your heels and bit your lip slightly, expecting him to speak, to stop what the girl was doing, to insist on an explanation.

Instead he gave a familiar, deep growl. You watched, blinking in genuine disbelief as his body twitched under Xi’an’s touch. Clearly the Twi’lek was just as surprised as you were, for she scrambled to fit his generous size into her mouth in a rush. Mando shuddered once more, then reached between his legs to press the palm of his hand to Xi’an’s forehead. You watched as he pushed her away.

“Get out,” he growled.

You had no idea which of you he was addressing, but took the hyperspanner your fingers were already twisted around and skittered gracelessly toward the door. Your trip across the hanger was no less hasty. You dropped the hyperspanner at Brejor’s feet.

“It’s the fuel injectors. I need the refresher,” you said stiffly, avoiding his eyes.

Without further explanation, you scampered out of the hanger and to the nearest vacant refresher. You slammed the door behind you and pressed your back against the cool metal wall.

What – what had you just witnessed?

Your hand trailed gently over your chest as you carefully replayed the events you’d witnessed in the storage room. The subtle way he’d changed in position when his visor met your eyes. The way his body arched over the crates behind him. The thick spurts of cum across the Twi’lek’s cheek.

He hadn’t been so close when you’d walked in. You knew what he sounded like when he was close. The way his breath felt against your skin as he bucked against your body, the words that tumbled from his soft, full lips…

Your hand, seemingly of its own volition, was halfway down the waistband of your pants before your realized.

Had he come for you?

Oh fuck.

Your fingers found your clit and rubbed harshly as you lingered on the thought.

He’d cum, under some other girl’s hand, seemingly from simply meeting your eyes. He’d just been getting into it when you’d spotted them. Your brain’s ability to reason fizzled as your fingers pinched and scraped over your clit. You wished they were his. You wished he’d follow you to this stupid cold ‘fresher and take you right here against the wall and…

“Hnng, Mando…” you gasped.

 It was far later than you’d like. The hanger was still crowded considering the hour, but not especially busy. You were flat on your back staring up into the fizzled engine of a cruiser that was well past its prime. You’d already pulled fifteen parts out of the engine block and the thing was still hissing at you like a disgusted loth-cat. You were covered in grime and were thoroughly annoyed that Brejor continued to hover over you like you needed supervision.

“Brejor?” you asked quietly, hopping to your feet and wiping your greasy hands on your pants

“What?” he asked sharply.

“Don’t you have… something, um, better to be doing? I can handle this one. If you finish the fighter over there, we can both be done”

Brejor actually smiled at you, a bright, toothy grin that didn’t fit his usual solemn face. He shoved away from the stack of metal crates he leaned against and tucked the holopad he was reviewing into a large pocket at his hip.

“That’s a girl, (Y/N). You’re sure you’ve got this?”

You nodded while trying to suppress a yawn. Brejor stretched, then clapped you on the shoulder before stalking off toward the heavily modified x-wing.

His absence revealed the Razor Crest to you in its entirety. You glanced at the ship, chewing on your bottom lip. He caught your eye at once.

Mando was leaning against the haul, arms folded, his helmet leaning slightly to one side. You try to ignore the thrill that ran up your spine at the sight of him watching you so intently. You blinked hard a couple times, turning your eyes to the tools in your hands. You wiped them down with a cloth Brejor had left behind, trying to shove the images from your mind of Mando in that storage room, of his head tipped backward, body sprawled across the crates…

“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice said from somewhere behind you.

A hand gripped your upper arm and pulled you backward, away from your thoughts. You looked up to find yourself face to face with another human man. Ruddy faced, and clearly inebriated, he glanced unsubtly down your shirt before meeting your eyes.

Ah, shit.

“Jacllin,” you sighed.

The newcomer glanced between you and Mando on the other side of the hanger, his eyes narrowing.

“Thought you understood we had a date tonight, sweetheart?” he asked coldly.

You’d forgotten completely. Mando often had that effect on you.

“I um-“ you stuttered, not meeting the man’s eyes.

His grip on your upper arm tightened and he wrenched you toward him.

“Thought you’d find better dick somewhere else, huh? You little slut?” he growled.

You let out a wordless cry as his grip tightened on your arm.

“Let her go,” said a sharp voice.

You looked around to see Brejor standing at Jacllin’s other elbow, a rather hefty wrench in hand.

“This worthless little slut? Even you, Brejor, should know—”

“Let her go,” Brejor repeated, enunciating each word carefully.

Jacllin stared hard at Brejor, eyeing the wrench in his hands particularly hard. Glanced at you, then around the hanger. His eyes lingered on Mando for a second before he released your arm, shoving you hard against Brejor.

“You want her? Have her. She wasn’t much anyway. Barely enough to keep the cot warm,” and with that the other man stalked off.

Brejor set you carefully back on your feet.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, his voice remarkably calm.

You nodded, trying hard to swallow the lump in your throat. He watched you, leaning down a little to try to meet your eyes, before awkwardly patting your back.

“Well… take a minute and then get that engine done. We could both use the shut eye.”

Then he stomped back over to his own project.

You wiped your eyes on the back of your wrist and took a deep breath. Reflexively, your eyes were drawn back to the Razor Crest.

The ship stood sturdily as ever. But Mando was gone.

  The light rap on the door several hours later brought you out of a fitful half-sleep.

You’d spent longer in the shower than usually would have, managing to cry out the majority of the shame that came with your private life presumably being the gossip of the station tomorrow. Your hair was no longer the drenched and tangled mess it had been hours ago, but it was still damp on the pillow as you sat up, rubbing at your dry eyes.

The soft, though impatient knock came again.

“Hmm?” you hummed, untangling your legs from your blankets and wrapping yourself in a thin cotton bathrobe before stumbling to the door. You squinted against the light of the hall as you peered through the peephole. A familiar helmet met your vision

The door slid open and you caught the telltale glint of Baskar before you were shoved wordlessly inside. He followed without explanation. Your hands impacted his chest plate as he pushed you further into the room, and there was something wet and sticky smeared across a tiny portion of the Baskar.

“This is blood?” you said blankly, your voice still partially asleep.

He hushed you as the door slid shut behind him.

“What…?”

Mando’s movements were oddly mechanical as he pressed you against your dresser, fumbling behind you for the black scrap of cloth to tie across your eyes. He seemed almost in shock himself.  You reached behind you to grab his hand and found his glove slightly damp. He hissed quietly as you touched his fingers.

“Mando…?”

“He won’t hurt you again,” he said gruffly

“What?” you said again.

He ran his finger over the hand shaped bruise that had already formed on your upper arm, his touch uncharacteristically tender. His fingers edged the collar of your robe down your arm, revealing more and more of your skin.

“Bruises aren’t a good look for you, cyar’ika,” he said, his voice low.

It all settled into place rather quickly. The blood was…oh.

“Mando…” you whispered.

“I won’t let them hurt you, sweet girl,” he muttered.

“You shouldn’t…”

“I don’t care.”

He scooped you up into his arms and pressed you into the top of the dresser. Hastily he wrapped your face in the slim strip of black velvet – the thickest material you’d managed to find. His helmet hissed as he removed it, then clanked loudly on contact with the floor. His mouth pressed to your throat immediately.

“I don’t want to share you,” he growled against your pulse point.

You grappled at his hair, whimpering.

“I don’t want you to see anybody else,” he grumbled, nipping at your skin, “I don’t want you to think about anybody else,” he nipped again, “I want you to be right here when I want you. You understand, cyar’ika?”

“Mando…” you whined, squirming in his arms.

Abruptly his bare fingertips cradled your chin. He turned you to face him, and you knew that were it not for the blindfold, you’d be staring into his eyes.

“Just me, okay?” he said softly

“I… yes…” you said breathlessly, “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl,” he growled.

He pressed his lips to yours. His tongue pressed against your lower lip and you granted him access without thought, opening your mouth to take as much of him into yourself as you could. You entangled him in your arms, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. When one of your legs snaked around his hip, you realized he was still in the majority of his armor.

“Mando, you’re too…” you moaned, leaning away tapping your finger against his pauldron.

He snickered against your lips, then scooped you off the dresser and deposited you onto the bed in a swift motion.

“Is that what you want? More skin?” he asked, his tone unabashedly wicked as he lingered above you.

You hummed affirmatively, squirming your way up the bed to make room for him. He abruptly seized you by the wrists, pulling you up to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Take this off then,” he said softly.

He guided your hands to the plate of his armor that covered his thighs. With his fingers as your guide, you slowly removed his armor, piece by piece. When you stood wobbly to remove the chest plate, he laughed lowly and pressed his lips into your temple.

“You’re so good to me, cyar’ika,” he mused, “so soft and sweet.”

You didn’t speak, afraid to ruin the moment, as the last of his beskar tumbled to the floor. Your fingers raked at his tunic, pulling it upward until his warm skin was pressed against yours. His fingers lingered over yours, tracing over your much-smaller hands with careful caresses as he guided them to the hem of his pants. You slipped your fingers beneath them and carefully curled them around his cock, which was already half hard and desperately in need of more space. He rested his head against your bare shoulder.

“I don’t want to share you, either,” you murmured, your fingers stroking over the soft skin of his shaft.

“Hm?”

He hummed in question against your skin, but you were already sinking down, pushing him gently backward to let you kneel at the foot of the bed. You dragged his pants down with your free hand, letting his cock spring free, and traced the tip lightly with your fingertip.

“I don’t like it, Mando. I want this to be mine. Only mine,” you whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his cock.

Your fingers traced the underside of his shaft, dancing lightly over the skin you discovered there. You felt him trembling above you already.

“Cyar’ika, I—” he choked out.

“I don’t like Xi’an touching you,” you continued calmly, “I want to show you that you only need me. That I’m special.”

You pressed your lips to his head again, letting your tongue slip out to give little kitten licks along the sensitive skin. Mando whined above you, his voice cracking slightly.

“Please,” he gasped out, “show me.”

When you took him all the way into your mouth, you had to fight the urge to gag on the size of him. You closed your eyes under the blindfold and focused on what you were doing, feeling every ridge of him along the roof of your mouth. Your tongue flattened against him to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, and you hollowed your cheeks slightly. There was nothing especially graceful about the motion, as you started to bob your head, sliding the length of him against your tongue and sucking gently, though hard enough that your cheeks caressed the sides of him. But he didn’t seem to mind. He entangled on hand in your hair and twisted the length of it around his fingers. He didn’t pull, precisely, so much as guide your head into a rhythm he liked.

“Fu- oh fuck… cyar’ika I… fuck,” he groaned.

You found it difficult but managed to quirk your lips up into what at least felt like a grin. You carried on, letting him set the pace while you explored the surface of his skin with your mouth, your tongue stroking the small slit at his head as you suckled there gently, then grazing over his shaft with your lips as he thrust himself as far back into your throat as you could manage.

“Fuck, I’ve gotta… stop, sweet girl,” he growled suddenly.

Abruptly his hand was gone from your hair as he dragged his cock from your lips. He grasped you under the arms and gently tossed you backward into the bed again.

“Dammit, girl,” he hissed, clambering on top of you, “you almost had me there.”

Your grin instantly turned to an open-mouthed groan as he sinks himself to the root into your pussy. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you were, given your intense focus on the taste and texture of his cock, but the wonderful stretch that accompanied his motion brought only a pleasing sort of pain. As his hips rocked back to dive into you again, you heard the faint squelch that indicated exactly how soaked you were.

“That’s it,” he moaned bracing his hands on either side of your head and setting a shattering pace, “that’s it. Scream for me, cry for me. Lovely thing.”

You took direction well. Each time he pounded into you, it brought another shout from the base of your throat. He leaned in closer and you felt first his lips, then his teeth as he nipped at your throat. You rocked your hips up into his, losing yourself in the sensation of his thundering, pounding thrusts.

“Ugn, ah… Mando… I’m… I’m gonna… ah…..” your voice caught off in a high whine as your legs gripped around his hips.

“Just… another couple….” He panted back.

His hips pressed into yours erratically as you felt your walls start to flutter. Abruptly your body seized completely, propelling your chest upward against his as your back arched. You shrieked what might have been his name, or may have been unintelligible syllables as you thrashed in his arms, feeling him buckle into you with a deep moan. You trembled, legs still tangled about his waist, as his cum coated your insides, leaving your entire body feeling warm and sated.

He panted, still arched over you, head pressed into your shoulder. His hair stuck to your sweat sheened skin. The fingers of both hands were entangled with your own.

“You are special, cyar’ika,” he panted lowly, “you don’t even know.”

[shari-berri]

Hitoshi Shinso -Cat Cafe-

Your POV

Shinso's unwavering determination during the sports festival was what drew me to him. His declaration of war towards my class sparked something within me that I didn't know existed. Seeing his passion towards becoming a hero despite the odds stacked against him made me fall for him even harder.

Shinso's deep voice filled me with happiness and I felt giddy every time I heard him speak. When the sports festival ended and Bakugo was announced the winner, I sought after Shinso. Despite how easy it would seem, I was unable to spot the purple haired male in the crowd swarming the exit.

I felt sadness upon not finding him but soon forgot it in favor of excitement of seeing him at school. I had to pass time somehow after the sports festival as we were given a break period of a few days. I filled this by working. Even though it was not allowed for students to work, I pulled some strings with Nezu, my parents' close friend, and was given special permission to work.

My choice of work? My job was a waitress at a cat cafe. While I did get to see cats, I was required to wear a maid uniform. The uniform itself was in no way modest, not by any standards. It had the traditional maid outfit look, but some extreme cuts were made in the fabric. A deep cut went down the front, allowing a full view to my cleavage and upper stomach. There were slits in the sides, showing some of my stomach. I was also required to wear ears and a tail for the full effect of a neko maid.

Imagine my complete and utter shock when the boy I had a severe crush on walked in. I was about to request someone else wait on him when my manager walked out. "(Y/N), I need you to take special care of that boy over there. He's a regular here and is the son of one of my best friends." Her eyes narrowed at me as if challenging me; daring me to ruin things. With a nervous laugh, I walked over to him.

"Welcome Master, let me take you to your seat. Follow me please!" I started, a heavy blush on my cheeks. One glare from my manager and I spit out a quick, "Nya nya!" Before speed walking to a table. I chose one located right next to the cat tree, wanting only the best for my love errr Master.

As he got seated, I placed a menu in front of him. "Please take your time deciding what you want, all of our items are freshly made and home baked. Feel free to interact with my fellow felines. Call me when you're ready to order, Master! Nya!" With that, I gave a hurried bow before rushing off. My tail seemed to tuck underneath me as I scampered away, mortified of what happened.

'Maybe working here wasn't the best idea.' I thought with a sigh.

My eyes shot up towards Shinso as I heard him call for me. "I would like to order now. Could the cute cat maid with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes please come here?" His voice called for me and I was happy to oblige. I flew past the counter before coming to a halt at Shinso's table.

"What can I get you Master?" I asked, panting slightly from my haste to get to him. Shinso's dark purple eyes met mine and I shyly looked away. Clearing his throat, he began to order. "I would like to order a slice of red velvet cake and matcha green tea please." My eyes flickered back towards his as I gave a quick bow.

Reaching forward, I took his menu before walking to the kitchen. I gave the chef Shinso's order before watching him from behind the counter.

I startled when he caught me staring, quickly averting my eyes. This little game of looking back and forth continued for a few more minutes until my name was called.

Carefully holding a cat print tray, I steadily made my way towards Shinso. My left hand held the tray still as I picked up the cake in my right, setting it down in front of him. Following that was the matcha green tea.

In the process of giving him his order, I leaned forward a bit too much, giving him a large view of my breasts, not that they weren't already visible. Silently cursing the outfit under my breath, I was scared by Shinso's sudden dark chuckle.

I watched in a sort of trance as he moved his lips. "I do see where the uniform would be a problem. Hey, aren't you that girl from the sports festival? The one with the bone quirk?" I was unbelievably happy he recognized me that I forgot to answer for a few seconds. "Oh! Yes, that's me, I can manipulate my bones as well as others as long as I make contact with them." I was certain Shinso could hear my excitement in my voice but he never remarked on it.

"Well then, what are you doing working here? I was t aware that students were allowed to work, and a student of the hero course as well." His tone was even but I could hear a slight hint of bitterness.

"I got special permission to work while at school and I see nothing about how being in the hero course changes that." I remembered him being talked about as having a villainous quirk, maybe that was what this was about.

Deciding it was worth a shot, I sat down next to him. My arm was pressed against his as was my bare thigh. "Ya know, I really admire you. I think you're amazing and I..." I trailed off as purple met (E/C). A light blush covered my cheeks. His eyebrows shot up in surprise before his face fell into a scowl.

"If you're here to make fun of me, I'll leave. I don't need more people talking about my villainous quirk." I gasped at his words, how did I manage to offend him so quickly!

At this point, I was panicking. Words began to tumble out of my mouth, I had no control of what I was saying.

"I'm not here to make fun of you at all! I hate those people who are rude to others for their quirk. My quirk could also be considered villainous but I made sure to push through it and show people who I really am and that I am not my quirk, I am who I make myself. And about the sports festival, I really felt a connection with you. As soon as you declared war on my class, I saw something in you and it made me realize something. Your pure passion for becoming a hero inspires me to do my best. I fell in love with you since then, your violet eyes and indigo hair light up my world!" It was then that I realized what I said.

Shinso's eyes were wide with shock and mine filled with tears. Grabbing the empty tray, I ran to the counter, setting it down before sprinting out of the cafe.

I had just ruined everything with the one person I felt something for. Not only did I make him mad, I pushed all my feelings onto him. I found myself in a park, some sort of flower field. Crouching down, I fell to my knees. Elbows rested on my knees as I weeped silently before it turned into sobs. I could hear people whispering about me as they passed.

Suddenly, I heard Shinso's voice calling, coming closer and closer. "Wait! (L/N)!" He panted as he stood in front of me. My body turned to run but he trapped me in his arms. My wiggling did nothing as I remained caged.

"You didn't let me speak. After you ran out, I thought of what you said. I took your words into consideration. I just wanted to say, thank you. While other people tell me about overcoming the harsh words, none of them have experienced it." My tears stopped but the streaks of red and water remained on my cheeks.

Gently, he wiped the liquid from my face with his thumbs. This time, his face was dusted a light pink. He leaned forward and quickly placed a small kiss on my nose before turning his head.

I took time to process this before I wrapped my arms around him, pressing a kiss to him cheek.

No words were said but I knew my feelings were reciprocated. I gave a hoarse laugh before I spoke, voice raspy from crying. "And to think this all happened because of a cat cafe." He gave a rare smile that made my heart flutter before walking to the cafe, hand in hand with me.

[foursideharmony]

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 6)

Summary: Logan goes for help. It doesn’t go well, but help (?) arrives anyway. Meanwhile, Patton makes a discovery.

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: There are some pretty hairy descriptions of violence in this chapter--brief, but potentially vivid. Also, Remus is finally involved, so watch out for that.

Word Count: 4,445

Read on AO3: here

People often underestimate how fast bears can run. They're so bulky, and most of the time are content to lumber along in an unhurried fashion. The best way to stop underestimating them is surely to be chased by one—anyone who experiences that will remember bears as the speedy animals that they actually are for however long the rest of their life might be.

The second-best way, though, might just be to ride one at a full gallop over miles of Narnian countryside.

Logan wondered just how fast they were going—he estimated between 35 and 40 kilometers per hour. With visual cues, he could have pinpointed their average speed more precisely, but he was clinging to Stoutpaws's back with his head down to minimize air resistance and his eyes closed to keep the freezing wind out of them. The bear's fur was unpleasantly coarse and smelled of a cloying mixture of dirt, honey, and wild animal, but Logan pushed all that to the back of his mind. This was necessary.

It was hours before they paused, and then only so Stoutpaws could shuffle to the top of a small bluff and confirm their destination. “That wood there,” he said, pointing with one paw. “Lantern Waste. That's where you came from, right, sir?”

“If the word 'Lantern' in the name refers to an antique lamppost stationed in the woods and inexplicably in operation, then yes. I believe the door we came through is just beyond it.”

“You use a lot of big words, don't you, sir?”

“I value precision in communication.”

They continued. Another hour brought them to the edge of Lantern Waste, and Stoutpaws slowed and let Logan dismount so that they could navigate more carefully. “Thus far, I do not recognize any specific landmarks,” the Logical Side noted after a time. “But it occurs to me that the lamppost is a unique feature in this forest, composed primarily of cast iron in contrast to the natural wood and stone that surrounds us. And I am given to understand that bears have an exceptionally keen olfactory sense. Perhaps you could locate it by scent?”

“I can certainly try, sir.” Stoutpaws reared up on his hind paws and turned his head from side to side with great nostril-flaring sniffs.

“As long as we are conversing, I would like to mention that there is no need to address me with an honorific. If you wish, you may call me by my name: Logan.”

“Oh no, sir, I couldn't do that. You're to be King, after all. And a fine one you'll make with your careful way of speaking, if I do say so myself.”

Logan found that he had no response to that. He recalled that the original book ended with the four children being crowned as monarchs of Narnia, but he couldn't say the prospect appealed to him. Neither did it pall, however. Still, he was pretty sure Stoutpaws had just complimented him, so he offered a nod of appreciation when he next met the beast's eye.

“No iron yet,” Stoutpaws was saying, “but I think the wind is against me. And there's something else...” He awkwardly pivoted on his paws, smelling to the northeast. “Hang on, that's the scent of reindeer! And lacquered wood! It's a sleigh! It's him—the White Warlock! He's after us!” He dropped back down to all fours and began pacing in a tight circle. “What shall we do, sir?”

“Let me up,” said Logan. “Head deeper into the wood and keep trying to smell out the lamppost.”

“I can't outpace the Warlock's sleigh!”

“Do your best, then, to buy us some time, and I'll work out a plan in the meantime.”

“Yes, sir!”

Stoutpaws took off at a dead gallop through the wood. They hadn't gone far when his nostrils flared wide and he declared, “I smell iron! ( puff, puff ) At least we're heading ( puff ) the right way!”

But just as they came within sight of the incongruous fixture, they began to hear, from somewhere behind them, the jingle of sleigh harness. “Oh, sir, he's coming ! He'll catch us for sure!”

Logan found himself wincing at the young bear's plaintive tone. “Let me down here.” Stoutpaws skidded to a halt and Logan dismounted once again. The sound of the sleigh was not as close as they had feared; Roman must have had to slow down among the trees. “I'll make it the rest of the way to the wardrobe on my own. You find a place to hide, and if anything should go wrong...please return to the others and let them know.”

“Nothing doing, sir! I-I promised to protect you with my life!”

“The best way for you to protect any of us right now is with information. Remember that, Stoutpaws. Knowledge is far more precious than strength or speed or even magic. Get yourself behind cover. Protect what you know.”

Stoutpaws's eyes were wide under his ears, half-flattened with fear. “Yes, sir,” he said meekly, before loping away toward denser brush. Logan stooped to pick up a pebble as the sound of the sleigh drew nearer and turned to sprint toward the lamppost just as it broke through the closest layer of trees and he heard Roman's bark of triumph.

Logan's turn of speed surprised even him, but he supposed it was only to be expected with the combination of adrenaline and fresh, unpolluted air. He had nothing on a reindeer-drawn sleigh, however, and with the grove of the wardrobe mere yards away, he felt a whiff of animal breath on the back of his head. In the next instant, he hurled the pebble as hard as he could into the grove and flung himself to one side in order to avoid being run down, losing his coat in the process. He landed hard, half-winded, the chill of the snow biting into his suddenly unprotected forearms, and wasn't able to pick himself up as quickly as he liked. He had only managed to raise himself up to his knees before Roman stood over him, looking every bit as menacing as he had that morning.

“I would have thought Virgil would be the one to try and escape. Did you really think I'd let any of you just leave?”

“Roman,” Logan panted, “this is highly uncharacteristic behavior for you. I would adv—”

“Spare me, Pointdexter, you're not my guidance counselor!” He reached out, and Logan found his chin forcibly tipped up by the end of what seemed to be an ornately carved icicle. “What was that you threw just then, Logan?”

Logan met his gaze with rock-steadiness. “A message.”

Roman's eyes widened and he turned to shout at his Dwarf attendant. “Hurry up! Get in there and intercept it!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Roman watched him scamper off before turning back to Logan. “It must suck to get so close to your goal and then fail at the last minute.”

Now that it was just the two of them, Logan noted, Roman had reverted to a more colloquial mode of speech. He carefully said nothing, balanced precariously between the desire to keep Roman talking and perhaps obtain clues to his precise mental state and how it had come about...and the need to avoid angering him further.

“Well? Don't you have anything to say?”

So much for remaining quiet... “I regret this course of events.”

“Funnily enough, I don't. Strike a pose, nerd.” Roman raised the icicle over his head, and Logan realized, just too late to defend himself, that it was actually a magic wand. He reflexively cringed away, taking whatever small comfort he could from the fact that he had succeeded at every part of his plan that was under his direct control...

  Patton decided to go for a walk. He'd had no luck at all cheering the Narnians up—if anything, their sadness was piling up on him, worsening his own—and he had reached the point where it was either get some fresh air and solitude, or have a breakdown in front of everyone.

Virgil insisted upon making sure it was safe first. They sent out a Talking Dog called Scuffer and a Raven by the name of Sallowpad out to scout the area by land and air, respectively, and make sure none of the enemy were nearby. Then one of the Fauns loaned Patton his pipes, so that he could blow an alert in case of any surprises. Thus equipped, Patton bundled into his fur coat and scrambled out of the shelter just ahead of the tears that were threatening to fall. The cold, clean air helped him gulp them back for the time being, and once he got farther from the camp, farther from all those forlorn faces and despondent voices, the space under the trees, with only his own quietly crunching footsteps and misty breaths for companions, helped to dissipate the horrid feelings.

Everything was going wrong. He couldn't deny that. The story wasn't going the way it should, not at all, and he and Virgil and Logan weren't familiar enough with it to figure out what the problem was and nudge it back on track, and he'd tried talking to the Narnians about the White Witch but their responses were always about the White Warlock as if whatever was going on with Roman had overwritten her, and...and...and...

And if Patton understood the situation with the Dryads correctly, Roman had just ordered someone killed in cold blood. She was just a figment of the Imagination, but it was still a cruel, vicious, tyrannical act! He just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of Roman, the noble fairy tale prince, doing something like that. But he knew he had to fix it, but how could he, when he couldn't figure out how it had come about?

How could he, when he couldn't even inject a little cheer into a ragtag group of talking animals and fantasy creatures?

He came to a small clearing—well, more of a space between large trunks. The branches of the trees arched overhead, nearly meeting in the middle, so that in the summer, with everything in full leaf, the ground beneath would be too shaded to let anything other than ferns and moss grow. Right now, of course, there was nothing but a thick layer of snow covering a slightly thinner layer of dead leaves...except in one spot, where there was a patch of sun that seemed to have built up just enough warmth to let the snow melt and reveal the musty earth.

And sitting in that patch of sun was a cat.

Despite everything, Patton almost laughed out loud—probably the only outdoor spot in all of Narnia that was even a little warm, and a cat had found it. The stifled laugh came out as more of a snort, and the cat—which had been lying down in a semi-circle with its back to him—twisted its head to see where the noise had come from. “Hiya, kitty,” Patton said shyly. “I didn't mean to bother you.”

The cat stood up, yawned, stretched, and sat. Now facing Patton, it looked up at him with intensely golden eyes. It was a handsome creature, with long, tawny-colored hair that didn't seem to have picked up any mats or burrs.

“I sure wish I could pet you,” Patton went on. “I think I could use some furry snuggles right now, but I'm afraid you'd set off my allergies.”

The cat hopped to its feet and walked up to the Moral Side, turning its body sideways as it approached. It stopped about a foot shy of making contact with his legs and gazed up at him, as if asking permission. “Well...” Patton said, “...I guess a minute or two can't hurt. If anyone asks I can blame my symptoms on the cold air.” He stooped and held out his hand, and the cat rammed itself against his legs before half-rearing up to rub its head against his outstretched knuckles. “Heh, listen to me, planning to tell a fib. I must be hanging out with Janus too much. Wow, you sure are friendly, aren't you? Do you talk at all? No? I guess even here, not everything can talk.”

He slouched until he was sitting with his back against one of the trees and shifted from letting the cat rub his hand to actively running his fingers through the fur of its head. “I just don't want Virgil to think I'm not being careful. I don't think I could stand disappointing anyone else today, you know?” He sniffed a few times and couldn't tell whether it was hay fever or his emotions starting to spill over again. “I don't understand what's happening , kitty. One of my best friends is acting like the bad guy! And he's always been so idealistic! He hates evil! What could possibly make someone do a one-eighty like that?”

He leaned his head back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. The sun must have been hitting the wood too, because it felt incongruously warm against his scalp. He continued to card his fingers through the cat's thick fur as fat tears finally began to leak from between his eyelids. Not hay fever, then. He didn't bother holding them back anymore. No one was around to be annoyed or to make a fuss over poor, sensitive, fragile Patton. It was just him and this startlingly affectionate feral cat. For a few minutes, he let the tears flow. They didn't freeze on his face—it wasn't quite that cold—so that was all right. They did make his cheeks burn a little from the salt and the chill of evaporation, but that was all part of the cleansing process. There was no better short-term therapy for icky feelings than a good cry.

The faucet gradually shut itself off. He suddenly envisioned Roman, the White Warlock, with his too-pale coloration and his huge ermine train and his icy crown with that monster diamond on it and his retinue of horror creatures. The image was unusually clear in his mind (Patton's imagination had always worked more based on how things made him feel, not how they looked), almost as if it were a painting that he could scrutinize at his leisure. For some reason, his attention kept getting drawn back to that diamond. Patton grew very pensive. If the diamond was drawing his notice, then maybe his gut had picked up on something important about it, and Patton was not in the habit of ignoring his gut. Not when it craved chocolate chip cookies, and not in situations like this.

He had to file the thought away for later, because the cat was suddenly pawing at his leg. “What is it, buddy? Are we done with pets?”

The cat ran a short distance away, stopped, and looked back over its shoulder at him, blinking meaningfully.

“You want me to follow you? Okay, gimme a sec to get up.” He braced against the tree and heaved himself to his feet, then let the cat lead him out of the clearing.

(He completely failed to notice that the snow dwindled away under its paws, only to return as it passed.)

He followed his guide for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, to a small grove of evergreens, like a forgotten Christmas tree farm. He hadn't know what to expect, but he was surprised anyway by the sight of none other than Ailim, kneeling near the center of the grove, her posture slumped. Directly in front of her was the stump of a pine tree that had been sawn off about two feet above the ground. The cut looked quite fresh, and—oh. Oh. Oh...heck.

“Ailim?” he said.

“Oh!” she responded, startled. “It's Patton, isn't it? What are you doing here?”

“My new fuzzy friend brought me.”

She just looked perplexed. “What friend?”

Patton looked around, but the cat was suddenly nowhere to be seen. “Well, he was here...I guess he led me here for a reason.”

“I apologize for appearing in this unseemly state.”

“No, please don't! You have every right to be out of sorts! Do you...maybe...want to talk about it?”

She looked downcast again. “There is little enough to talk about. The Hags divined the whereabouts of Muricata's tree and the party dragged us both here. She could barely keep her feet, so they made me hold her up. They used a saw. I felt her agony as her trunk was gouged apart.”

Patton flinched. His gorge rose slightly.

“When the tree fell, I felt the life leave her. Then she vanished from my arms. My sister...she is gone from the world. It is as if she had never sprouted.”

Patton rushed forward, shrugged out of his coat, and draped it over the miserable Dryad. She wasn't crying, but she evidently had been earlier; twin trails of hardened yellow resin ran from her eyes down to her chin. “I'm so sorry,” he murmured. Beyond that, he was at a loss. He wanted to promise her to make it better, but...her sister was gone . Murdered. Cut down in her prime (literally).

They hadn't even been neat about it. The stump was scarred with a shallow cut well below where it had eventually been felled. Patton ran his fingers over it, his heart squeezing in vicarious anguish. It seemed they had tortured Muricata first...but Ailim hadn't mentioned torture in her brief description of the execution.

As if she could tell what he was thinking, she said, “They started there, but the Warlock told them to do it higher up instead. I don't know why.”

Patton's heart was suddenly hammering against his ribs. This felt important . What was he looking for? What was the difference between the lower cut and the upper one, that Roman would make that call? Did he just want a convenient place to sit down in the forest? No, that was silly. Patton wished he were smart like Logan so he could figure out this sort of thing. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again they refocused of their own accord at the farther edge of the cut stump, where there was a sprig of greenery...

Patton walked around and peered closely at a few sprouts of fresh green needles growing directly out of the side of the trunk, as happens on pine trees. “Um...Ailim?,” he said, his voice wobbling with uncertainty, “I don't know if this helps at all, but this tree isn't totally dead. They left a growing part.”

“What?” Ailim said breathlessly, letting the coat fall from her shoulders as she sprang up. She leaned over the stump without touching it, peering at the needles. “You speak the truth. There is life left in the tree; it may yet regrow.” She gathered an armload of snow from the forest floor and spread it over the top of the stump. “In the meantime, this will protect it.”

“Does that mean your sister would come back?”

“I cannot say. The tree might acquire a new spirit, or Muricata might emerge again but without her previous memories. Or it might remain an unawakened tree, alive but with no sentient soul. But it seems that for all his wickedness, the White Warlock chose to leave this door open.”

“Yeah...” Patton said. “He made sure they cut above the growth. And he let you go. Ailim, will you come back to the camp with me? Everyone will be glad to see you're okay, and I think we should all sit down and try to figure out what it means that Roman did this. My head's starting to hurt from trying to solve these puzzles on my own.”

“Nevertheless,” said Ailim, fetching Patton's coat and offering it back to him, “you spotted this sign. You have given me a measure of hope, however slim. Thank you, Patton.”

And as they started back toward the Hill of the Stone Table, Patton began to feel like a few things were going right after all.

Halfway there, it suddenly occurred to him that the cat hadn't set off his allergies in the slightest.

Huh. That was weird.

Anything can happen in the Mindscape. Expect, as they say, the unexpected.

But Janus was of the opinion that there was no excuse for him to be walking along the upstairs hallway simply minding Thomas's business and suddenly get jumped out of nowhere. One instant everything was normal, the next he was flat on his back, struggling to hold a knife away from his face while the wielder of the knife, who had bulbous features and a shocking quantity of beard, was snarling at him. He caught something about a message and a warlock, but his attacker seemed to have worked himself up into a lather long before encountering Janus and was, in the main, unintelligible.

This left Janus with no clue what the fellow wanted, and when you don't know what someone wants you can't give it to them (or convince them that you've given it to them and pocket the difference) and get them to stop trying to stick a knife in your eye. Add to that the fact that he'd been completely unprepared for this, and that his attacker was noticeably stronger than himself, and Janus was well and truly up [Censored for indelicate language] Creek, sans paddle.

If there was one thing he hated, it was not being in quiet control of a situation. If there was one thing he utterly despised, it was having to adapt on the fly.

Well, if anyone in the Mindscape knew how to cope with [Censored] Creek...besides, this was probably his fault anyway.

“REMUSSSSSS!!!” Janus hissed, even though he was trying not to. High stress had that effect on him.

He heard, in the following order: rapidly approaching footsteps, “What's u—WOW!”, a sickening crunch as Remus's morningstar made contact, and the heavy thump of a body hitting the wall. Then Janus was free. He sat up to take stock.

His attacker was definitely dead, given the shape of his head, and he was a lot shorter than Janus would have assumed given his strength—a fantasy dwarf, then. That was all he was able to discern before the being evaporated into sparkling motes of light that dissipated: proof positive that he had been a figment. “Mind explaining what that was all about, Your Disgrace?” he said.

Remus was pouting at his weapon, probably because the victim's blood had also vanished. “Your guess is as good as mine, my favorite phallic symbol. Must have been one of my brother's.”

That gave Janus pause. He'd assumed, once Roman barged in on the morning's assemblage and then the entire cadre vanished for the day, that he had taken them on a jaunt in the Imagination...but to let a mayhem-oriented figment out unsupervised? That suggested...difficulties. And when he considered the dwarf's vague reference to a message...hm.

“Purely in the interest of maintaining order in this psyche,” he said in the most chipper tone he could manage, “I am going to get to the bottom of this.” He stood up, dusted himself off, and headed for Roman's room.

Remus, unsurprisingly, was right behind him. “Sounds like a blast! There's always plenty to maim when Roman gets into adventure mode! I'm coming too!”

“I'd be simply delighted to have your company,” said Janus. Remus, bless him, either missed the sarcasm or didn't care.

Roman's room was a mess, which was nothing out of the ordinary. This mess appeared to be the result of a deliberate ransacking, which was. Presumably the dwarf was the culprit; perhaps he'd been looking for the “message.”

The doorway to the Imagination, which had taken the form of a large wooden double-doored cupboard, stood wide open. One door actually hung askew from a single hinge, befitting the overall atmosphere of the room. Janus summoned his crook as a precaution before stepping inside.

About a minute later, he was already having regrets. Roman had made some sort of winter wonderland, and Janus's semi-reptilian biology was already starting to protest being made to function in the low temperatures. He turned up his collar, pulled down his hat, and tucked his free hand into his capelet, but he was going to have to find more layers somewhere. Maybe he could get Remus to create him a nice wool coat. Or some longjohns. (Although he was hesitant to ask, as he wouldn't put it past the Duke to instead grant him a yak pelt so fresh that it was still bleeding.)

“Hey, look, someone made an ice sculpture of the buzzkill!”

Janus looked up from his ruminations. Remus had indeed discovered a life-sized, transparent statue of Logan, but upon closer inspection, it proved to be not ice but rock crystal (silicon dioxide, as Logan himself would specify). The Logical Side was depicted kneeling, leaning back on one hand and flinging the other one up and out as if in self-defense. His expression was decidedly alarmed, and taken as a whole, the presentation made Janus distinctly uneasy. And the more he inspected the sculpture, the more that feeling grew. The thing was unreasonably detailed. He could make out the knit texture of his polo shirt and individual strands of hair...and because it was transparent, he could see that the carving went layers deep—Logan's necktie ran completely around underneath his shirt collar, and his eyes were engraved behind the lenses of his glasses.

“Welp!” Remus was saying, raising his morningstar. “Smashy smashy!”

The horrible truth dawned on Janus just in time. He lashed out with his crook to snag Remus's ankle and pull him off-balance before he could bring the weapon down.

“Awwwww! What did you do that for, J-Anus?”

Janus found himself trembling, and no longer could he blame it entirely on the cold. “Speaking purely as a hypothetical,” he said with an embarrassing creak in his voice, “what if that weren't, by the strictest definition, a sculpture?”

Remus tilted his head in confusion. “Well, what else would it...” His kohl-rimmed eyes widened in some chaotic hybrid of shock and glee. “Nooo! You mean someone's gone and put the ol' Medusa whammy on Geekboy?”

“Obviously.” Janus looked around the snowy forest, wary of everything. “I think,” he said, choosing his words with the utmost of care, because they were the truth, “that there is a great deal of trouble afoot here.”

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (non-anime animated heat 2)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. Now, I present my favourites!

If your answer is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

—

Q: Mina and Hot Pocket have a brand new animated series in development. You're looking to join the team as a writer. Pitch me an episode!

*  Hot Pocket hustles Mina at competitive Hide and Go Seek. Mina does not understand how you keep finding her first. Can't be a combination of excited tail wags at the sight of you and not being able to slither into the dark abyss  --  @goosebytrade [Sold on the concept, super sold on the truth that Mina would always be found and never understand how.]

~~

*  Mina and Hot Pocket pull a mystery science theater of watching you watch -- Sailor MoonHecate  [No lie, I want to hear this VERY MUCH.]

~~

*  The show is done in film noir style, in black and white, and follows Hot Pocket through his day as he comments on the meaninglessness of existence, regularly quoting Chekov, Beckett, and Nietzsche as he watches his humans go about their days of impenetrable confusion. Mina is the only character in color, bounding onto screen and bringing joy, countering HP's nihilism with absurdism and chew toys. HP, watching a bird, attempts to pounce at it, but it flies away: *deep sigh* I can't go on Mina, bouncing into view, bumps into HP and scampers off: Yes! Go on! You're IT! HP: Argument is meaningless *chases after, mock ferocity ensues*  -- @incorrecttact  [Hot Pocket: Philospher, is in fact the animated series we need.]

~~

*  "Mother is the root of the problem, my good Mina." Howard H Pocket, Esq, PhD, sat above her on the dining room table, gazing down, Mina's tail wagging, tongue thirsty for slorps. "And we shall conquer." "I love Mommy!" Mina bounced excitedly. "Yes, yes, 'Mommy' loves you too, and that is why, my darling sister, we shall send you in as the decoy." Conscious of the tongue, but also a certain personal need for drama, he leaned a bit toward her. "It's the perfect crime. You do, I assume, want a biscuit?" "Oh, I love biscuits!" "I thought as much," he stood up, stretched, and padded down to the dining room chair, "Now, listen carefully. What we need to do is--Ah!! Ahh!! Mina!!!" Her tongue found his face and he batted at her with his sinful paws, a scowl resting on his brow. "I love you Hot Pocket!" "It's Howard H.--MINA NOT AGAIN" -- JEWSSSSSSSSSSS [Okay so if I use my next ‘fic commission for 2000 words of Hot Pocket and Mina shenanigans, know you did this to yourself.]

~~

*  Finding My Henshin: The Dog Must Sparkle!  Hot Pocket emerges from a cabinet covered in bits of flour.  To the humans, he looks like trouble: to Mina, he looks like a star field. Being named after a magical girl, she knows what’s happening: he’s going out to transform and fight evil, and she /must/ be a part of it. The only question: what will her transformation sequence look like, and /how/ can she activate it?  After a day of running in circles, trying to see if a squirrel is her magical companion, and testing every Magical Stick in the backyard, she’s almost ready to admit defeat. Will Mina realize that she’s magical just the way she is? -- Lou  [OH NO THE CUTE DROP LINE. I don’t think I’d have thought of Mina searching for her path to being a Magical Pup, and that is clearly a failing on my part.]

~~

* To be clear, the show's overall structure is one of charm and competition, with each episode geared toward a different task/battle. The animation is a combo of rotoscope and 90s era Nickelodeon style animated interludes (think bright and wiggly).The goal: to crown either Mina or Hot Pocket as Jetty's Best Buddy by season's end! My episode would be "Nap Battle!" Incorporating time-lapse video and highlight segments, the two fuzzbutts will be tasked with earning the title of Nap Champion (complete with the Pillow Crown). They'll face a number of challenges such as withstanding the distraction of forbidden toys and people food; as well as being presented with obstacle courses in which to choose the ideal nap spot. Points awarded for: overall time spent napping; longest individual nap session; number of positions; silliness of positions; snores and squeaks; and the coveted DOUBLE NAP CUDDLEBOMB - an act so cute all production is ceased until the crew can quell their paroxysms of delight. So like, three hours maybe? -- @rasiqra-revulva​  [AT LEAST. The descriptions were too good, I know legit loss in my soul that I will not see it.]

~~

*  Hot Pocket cons Mina into helping him pilfer the flour. "You will be told you are a good girl," he informs her. "I'M IN," Mina barks, tail wagging at mach speed. Together, they attempt to break the locks on the cupboards where the flour may be found, but oh no! They don't have thumbs!! They've just about managed to figure out a workaround when their human Jet catches them and CHANGES THE LOCATION OF THE FLOUR. This happens several more times. Hot Pocket and Mina's attempts to free the flour become increasing zanier and more desperate. At last, finally, finally, FINALLY, Hot Pocket acquires the bag of that delicious white powder he so craves, and tips it over into his open, waiting mouth...!

It's baby powder for the Jewlet. Hot Pocket's howls of rage can be heard on the other side of the planet. -- @ayu-ohseki  [TAKE THAT NAUGHTY LITTLE VOID MAN]

~~

*  Mina spends the episode looking for Hot Pocket, who keeps moving from place to place off-camera in search of the perfect warm sleeping spot. Just as Mina is about to pry open the lid of a cardboard box Hot Pocket is napping in, so close to victory, she hears the car of Jill, and takes off instead.  -- @thehubby  [Mina as Hot Pocket’s own personal chaos god is, as it turns out, exactly what I wanted.]

---

I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.

[devnicolee]

The Chosen Ones (5)

Warnings: Slow burn 

Word Count: 10,079

Pairing: M’Baku x Original Character

M'Baku's hands painfully clutched the sides of the window, half of its shattered glass scattered around his feet. His eyes were transfixed on the path of smoke slowly dissipating into nothing like he was hypnotized, as if his intense stares alone could bring the woman who flew out the window moments prior back to him. Every second that passed and every mile she traveled farther away from home and him, his frustration and rage at the people left behind grew. It only took moments, barely enough time for the group to catch their breath and truly process everything that transpired, for his rage to boil over. 

"I hope all of you are happy," he said slowly, voice quiet and deadly as he turned around to face Asha's family and the remaining council members. Despite being in the presence of the Dora and the Black Panther, most of the group shrank in his shadow. Usually, M’Baku’s bark was bigger than his bite, not nearly as terrifying or intimidating as his appearance would have someone believe. But it seemed his gentle giant personality flew out the window with the love of his life and before them stood, simply, a raging giant. 

"Excuse me?" T'Challa asked as silence fell over the group. "Are you blaming this on us?" T’Challa was frustrated, already internally blaming himself for how utterly spectacularly his plan failed. He genuinely thought he was helping, and perhaps foolishly, did not even once consider this outcome. He expected outrage, anger, of course. No decision he made came without those from someone. But this? This type of catastrophe? He was wholly unprepared. But he did know that hearing someone voice the thoughts already swirling around in his mind caused rage to flare up in him.

"Well, who else is to blame King T'Challa? You are the ones who were forcing her to hide and pretend and lie. You all created t-this system that treats her like a second-class citizen, that allows people like that woman to attack her. What in Hanuman's name did you expect? That she would be able to sit here and take that all her entire life?" M'Baku yelled, his voice booming, vibrating throughout the large throne room. 

"Not that I need to justify the choices of this family to you or anyone, Shuri and I have been trying to help Asha. You wouldn't even know her, wouldn't be able to sit and judge us if I had not forced her to join the tribe and take that job in Jabariland in the first place! She didn't even want it. You have known her for what? A month? We," he emphasized, gesturing toward the sister he had left, "have been here by her side her entire life!" T'Challa voice raised to match M'Baku's as the men traded verbal jabs at the other, neither willing to shoulder the blame the other carelessly tossed at their feet.

"Yes, and some help the two of you have been while she was being emotionally abused and mistreated in her own home. This," he scoffed, "this isn't a life! What you and your parents forced upon her isn't a life. And you didn't fight for her to have the life she deserved. From where I am sitting, you never have. If you had, it wouldn't have taken 25 years. If you had, she would not have felt the need to flee out of your window to Hanuman knows where!"

"And what of you hm? Did you ever stop to think about why Asha didn't flee up to the mountains to be with you the first chance she got? Since you know her so well... since you offered her freedom and a real life that we didn't? Because maybe Asha understood what it could cost all of us, maybe she understood there are larger obligations at play. But you don't care about the cost! To us... or to Asha for that matter. You don't care about what is best for her and her family. You just care about her being who you want her to be. You don't love her for her, you love her for her powers. How is that any different than Hasani? Or my father who demanded she be who they wanted?" He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before adding, "If you knew my sister as well as you think you do, you would know that she would never choose to sacrifice this family for herself." 

"I knew you didn't deserve to be King, time and time again you prove that you are just a boy. A child who has no concept of leadership," M'Baku spat. "Because if you did, you would have been willing to sacrifice it all for her.  It would never have to be her choice! You all had countless opportunities to do something different, to avoid the consequences of being indifferent to hate. When your parents or the Council plucked at the threads holding your sister together, you did nothing. Because you do not care about her, you only care about your family's grip on power, just like your father."  

T'Challa's eyes flashed red as M'Baku's words sank in. A king no longer stood before him, the Black Panther and a very overprotective brother did. His suit instinctively wrapped its protective fibers around his body, launching him into attack mode. The only sounds in the room were sharp breaths and the collective bang of the Dora banishing their spears, ready to defend their King if needed. There was no room for God, Bast or Hanuman as the safe space separating the two vanished completely. Verbal blows were over, physical ones were zooming toward them with the speed of a panther as T'Challa said in a low voice, "Do. Not. Ever. insinuate that I --"

"Alright, enough boys, enough!" Nakia yelled, cutting off her boyfriend and pushing her way between the two men. Her hands pushed against each of their chests to force them apart. She didn't expect to actually move them, and she didn't, but it gave them both a physical signal to retreat to their figurative corners. They could argue all day if they wanted but Nakia knew it would be a worse end to an already terrible day if T'Challa killed one of his council members.

"You are all dismissed," she called out forcefully to the remaining council members, who no one else seemed to realize were still there. They all seemed to be too invested in the drama, feeling that the council meetings had gotten far more interesting now that T'Challa was king. And though Nakia actually did not have the authority to end any meetings, they all scampered, quickly gathering their things to leave. Once the last soul exited, leaving M'Baku and the Royal Family behind, Nakia added, "We all failed her and so we all shoulder the blame for this. Had we not... she would here and not... not lost. Arguing over who failed her the most and who loves her the most won't help us find her or help us get her back. So, let us focus on that for now and then Asha can tell us all how much we failed her in person. Agreed? Good." She answered herself, not waiting for either man to respond before redirecting her attention to Shuri. "Now, Shuri, can you trace the signal from her beads?"

Shuri had been silent those far, watching the two men argue from the window. She wiped the stray tear or two from her eyes as she walked back to her original seat and picked up her tablet. After a couple of seconds, a large-scale 3-D map of Wakanda was projected at their feet. The group moved out of the way to get a better view, looking down to see a thin red line labeled "Princess Asha Udaka" appear and slowly zigzag its way out of the inner dome around the Capitol. The dot traveled a short distance in the wilderness before stopping abruptly above the Land of the Heart-Shaped Herb.

"Her trail ends here," Shuri stated, pointing at the end of the line. 

"So she is there?" M'Baku stated, half as a matter of fact statement and half as a question. "Let us go and get her." 

"I didn't say she was there. I said her signal ends there," Shuri snapped back, understandably still angered at M'Baku's earlier attack as they were directed at both she and T'Challa.

She continued tapping away as Nakia said, "How is that possible? Override her tracker bead and find her that way."

"I am working on it," Shuri responded immediately, clearly agitated. There was silence as Shuri tapped away on her screen, eyes growing bigger. 

"What is it, Shuri?" T'Challa asked.

"She destroyed her beads, either accidentally or on purpose. We won't be able to find her this way."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, if she manually turned off her tracker, I would be able to override it but I can't. And right before it stopped transmitting a location, her health bead sent out a distress signal, then stopped tracking and recording all health data. That bead never turns off, it can't. It records everything to the minute. So, best guess, and my guesses are usually never wrong, she destroyed them." 

"I thought you couldn't destroy vibranium?" M'Baku asked, not truly understanding how the beads or vibranium worked. 

"You can destroy anything if you have something powerful enough. Asha's powers certainly aren't enough to destroy vibranium, you know - reduce it to atoms. But with enough sustained fire, it can melt. And the beads are made of more than vibranium. Once exposed to an open flame for too long, the tech can be rendered useless. The point is, her beads won't help us. She could be fine and not want to be found. But... she could be hurt and be unable to tell anyone. We just don't know, so we have to find her the old-fashioned way." 

"She didn't leave Wakanda, nothing has crossed the exterior border in the last hour," Okoye offered as she checked a log on her beads. 

"So aside from the border, where could she be headed in that direction? Any place of significance to her?" 

"That path is on the road to everywhere significant. The border, Warrior Falls, Jabariland, the Hall of Kings... It also depends on if she is looking for a place to be alone for a few hours or shelter for days. The mountains could give her shelter but who would she go there for besides you? Warrior Falls is her favorite spot but she won't find shelter there." 

"And I doubt she would choose to go to the Hall of Kings," Shuri added. "It houses the Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb," she added for M'Baku's benefit. "No one has been there for over a month. After Killmonger destroyed it, the priestesses refused to return, saying Bast cursed the land." 

"My son... perhaps we should just let her be," Ramonda offered, approaching the group from her seat off to the side. Everyone's heads turned, almost as if they forgot she was even in the room. Her words coupled with the almost annoyed look on her face caused a cloud of anger to settle over the group once more. 

"What? How could you suggest such a thing, Mama?" Shuri asked in disbelief.  

"Your sister can only bring this family ruin. Why bring her back here to further destroy everything? Whatever she is searching for outside of this palace may be what is best for her." 

"Asha is our sister. She is a member of this family, a leader in this country. The only people who have destroyed everything are you and Baba for creating this mess. We are finding her and we are bringing her home." 

"I am just sugg-" 

"That is the end of this discussion. And you would do well to never make that suggestion in my presence again." His tone almost as lethal and harsh as the one he banished Elder Shani with earlier. T'Challa turned his back to his mother before continuing, "M'Baku and I will take the Talon and clear every inch of Wakanda like a grid. The body scans will identify her tattoo. You all stay here in case she returns."

He did not wait for confirmation or approval from anyone else for a plan, deciding if someone had a better idea then they would have said it already. He motioned for M’Baku to follow him out of the throne room without another word.  

****

The ride on the Talon was virtually silent as the airplane piloted itself and T'Challa intently examined the sand table in the middle of the ship that reflected the passing landscape beneath them. He transitioned for pacing, throwing aggressive glances at the table, to standing hunched over it, staring at the sand disheartened and frustrated. The sand rapidly transformed into the different trees and rivers they passed over and people they passed over, all the dark gray color of the sand. T'Challa warned M'Baku that they would be waiting for purple sand, that it would be her. M'Baku let T'Challa do that while he just stared out of the window at the sea of black as if he could see Asha's body in the darkness. 

"Why do you love her?" 

M'Baku wondered if T'Challa got pleasure out of asking him deep questions out of the blue. "What's not to love?" M'Baku asked, not looking away from the window. At the returning silence, he grinned slyly and glanced back to see a very unsatisfied look on his face. He understood, understood the question and its purpose. If his thoughts were any indication, perhaps T’Challa worried that he was merely infatuated with his sister, not actually in love with her. He knew he did not need to but he did care about convincing T’Challa that that was not the case here. That his love was real and not some childish fantasy or obsession with magic.

"You know I noticed her at your challenge. There I was, down the mountains for the first time in my life, determined to die for that throne. And when I looked at the crowd, she was the first thing I noticed. My eyes drew to her like a moth to a flame. It was fleeting though, I could only focus on her for a second for there was fighting and honorable dying to get on with. And then the first time I saw her... truly saw her, in Jabariland… I mean, Hanuman. I have been with a great deal of women in my life but I had never seen one like her before. I saw it - that sadness you spoke of. But I also saw fire, passion, fierce determination. What do I love about her? I love the way you can see her heart soar at every compliment or kind word. I love the way her eyes, already filled with fire, light up when she discovers something new about herself. I love how she values family despite hers being so fragmented. I love that she is so dedicated to Wakanda, loves Wakanda so deeply despite not receiving that love in return. I love her quiet strength, her endless compassion."

He paused for a few moments, turning around to lean back against the wall of the ship. A hearty laugh escaped his lips as he stared across the ship at nothing. "You know the first time I realized it?" he asked as he walked up to T'Challa, looking down at the sand table. "We uh... we have this small cliff across from the Lodge. From there, you can see the best view of the sunset in all of Wakanda. To most of the tribe it isn't anything special, truth be told. Myself included, having had access to it my entire life. It became mundane and ordinary. But Asha, she likes sunsets so I took her there while she was in Jabariland. And you could see her whole being fill with joy and excitement, like this ordinary, mundane cliff was the best thing she had seen in her life. I don’t know, up until that point, I had tried to keep my feelings at bay. I didn’t deserve her I told myself. But the idea that she could love something so boring and ordinary made me feel like maybe she could love someone who was boring and ordinary. Who did not possess the power she did.” 

The two men fell silent for a moment, T'Challa not knowing what to say. After a few minutes, M'Baku added, "You were not totally wrong earlier. When I was young, I wanted so desperately to be like her. I would pray on my knees until they ached to be blessed with a gift. I thought I had grown out of that. But your sister... I just wanted her to see what I saw, to accept the freedom I could offer, to choose me. Because if she chose me, if she could love me, then maybe I was not as ordinary and boring as I always felt. But I didn't think about the cost to her or you all, what was the cost to mere mortals in the face of her powers? But that... that selfishness isn't her way. All I saw was two people who were wholly unfulfilled. And I was so desperate for her to be mine so I could fill us both… so she could be free and I could be a part of something that was not ordinary that I never stopped to consider that maybe it is time for her to be hers. Time for others to stop forcing their wants on her  and that includes me."

T'Challa simply stared at him, not expecting even half of an answer as detailed, nuanced and passionate as that. “I-I am sorry. For the throne room,” he started to say but M’Baku stopped him. 

“We both said things, things I know I regret and you did not deserve or earn. Let us leave them in the past, yes?” M’Baku asked, extending an olive branch to his king. T’Challa nodded but before he could say anything else, a flash of purple sand caught his eye. 

"I found her!" he called out. 

M'Baku moved quickly to the sand table where purple sand was interrupting the field of gray while T’Challa directed the Talon to turn around and slowly lower to hover above the trees. "She is in front of the Hall of Kings." 

M'Baku touched the purple sand that represented her horizontal body, expecting it to crumble in his hand like sand usually did to but it remained solid. He held it in his hand, silently pleading with Hanuman that she was alive and well.

"We cannot get any closer?” M’Baku asked as T’Challa activated his suit and motioned for him to follow him down the ramp. 

“Out of respect for Bast’s whole place, we do not fly or hover the Talon directly over the Hall of Kings or its immediate surroundings. 

M’Baku nodded then questioned, “Any idea why Asha would come here?"

"My father used to come here and pray. Only the Panther Tribe and those who tend to the Garden are even allowed here. It is sacred ground. Asha has never even been here." 

"And they believe it is cursed now?" M'Baku asked, an eerily feeling falling over him as they moved through the darkness with little light to guide them. But he could not tell if that was because the land was actually haunted or because he was simply overthinking after what Shuri said. 

"That is what the priestesses have told us... that Bast was enraged at the destruction of the Garden. Everytime they come here, they say they are overcome with dark thoughts, visions of Bast. They hear cries and rustlings in the trees," T'Challa answered.

"And you believe them?" M'Baku pushed a low hanging branch out of their way as they approached the clearing she was supposed to be in. "I do not hear anything."

"The priestesses have tended to this garden for most of their lives with Zhuri. It is their whole world. They have no reason to lie," his voice trailed off as the reason for their journey came into view. "Asha!"

T'Challa and M'Baku raced forward when they saw her body in a heap on the forest floor. As they approached, T'Challa quickly inspected the area and noticed the scorched black Earth branching out from beneath her body, her lack of shoes, and the cuts littering her arms and legs. Her face was hidden from view, covered by all her braids. She was knocked out cold. M'Baku reached her first, recognizing that T'Challa should have due to his enhanced speed, but understanding and appreciating the gesture. 

M'Baku knelt down into the soft earth beside her, gently shifting her head so her face was facing up. He was startled at the lack of warmth in her body. Usually the girl felt like a furnace but now? She was as cold as ice. M'Baku felt her coldness as if someone had replaced his own blood with ice. He was so sure, convinced they would find her alive and well, probably  too convinced. He had not prepared himself for any other possibility, refused to even consider it. Now all the other possibilities were vying for his attention, demanding he reckon with the reality that Asha was no goddess at all... she was human, a mere mortal like the rest of them. 

"Check her pulse," T'Challa said, his voice even and cold. He knew from the way M'Baku held her cheek, the way the man seemed paralyzed that all was not right. He had not allowed himself to consider this either, forced the thought out of his mind every time. But staring at her, wishing for a different scenario would not change the current outcome. They needed to know and prolonging it would not ease their pain.

M'Baku nodded, signaling that he heard the question. He couldn't get his mouth or vocal chords to work enough to verbally respond. He took a deep breath, sent a silent prayer to Hanuman before starting to move his hand down to her neck to find a pulse. For a moment, he thought back to their time in the mountains, that sunset on that cliff. It truly was a perfect moment, a perfect stolen moment that ended too quickly. Asha seemed to believe that was all they were, all they would get: a selfishly seized stolen moment that was not actually in the cards for either of them. But M’Baku refused to believe that as he prayed to Hanuman. He prayed that life, no matter how strong or feeble, would still pump through her veins when his fingers pressed into her neck. Because he knew she deserved more… and he knew that they deserved a lifetime of moments designed especially for them and freely given to them to fulfill. 

****

Asha groaned as she opened her eyes, shifting a bit as she registered the hard forest ground beneath her and the pain radiating through her body. One look at the sky above her caused her to sit up quickly, completely ignoring the immediate frustration and pain born from crashing to the ground. She quickly noticed several things that were not as they should have been. It was pitch black outside when she left the palace but now? The sky was ablaze with deep hues of purple and blue, lights that moved across the sky like a living organism. If she were not so perplexed, she would have been content simply lying there to admire its beauty. 

She didn't even really understand how she got here - she crashed in the forest, that much she remembered. But now? She was surrounded by tall swaying grass like that of the Alkama Fields, not the towering thick trees and greenery that surrounds the Hall of Kings. She stood up quickly, dusting the dirt off her purple dress and turned from side to side, trying to notice any landmarks or buildings that would help her discern where she was now.

She walked a few paces ahead of her before an eerie feeling settled over her causing her to stop in her tracks. There was nothing out of the ordinary ahead of her and yet, the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. She turned around slowly, the sight behind her rendered her speechless. And thank Bast it did or else she would have let out a blood-curdling scream and she doubted theblack panthers staring at her from this tree would have appreciated that. She counted 10 or so of them as her eyes swept across the tree frantically. Her legs turned into jelly as examining stares passed between her and the majestic but deadly creatures. They seemed to regard her with interest, while Asha was too busy looking from the tree to the very short span of grass that separated them.

That is an easy leap for any one of them.

Asha's mind started racing, trying to access years of knowledge about Panthers and quickly sift through it all for something that could help her. As if her knowledge was a roaring rapid, the facts flew past her at an unnatural speed, uselessly until one old legend jumped out at her. Many believed that the Panther Tribe had a deeper connection with all panthers, those on the island and those in the wild, and so no panther would ever harm them. However, now seemed like a poor time to test that theory in Asha's opinion.

She pushed down with her hands, deciding that flying was far safer than walking and would help her find her way home. However, much to her shock, nothing happened. She tried again, facing scrunching up in intense frustration and concentration as she tried to force fire out of her extremities to gain flight. But she couldn't even get sparks... she was completely and utterly powerless. She groaned softly in frustration, not understanding how she was rendered powerless - something she had hoped and prayed for - the one time she actually needed them.

As she stood there examining her hands, her legs started to feel warm. She ignored it initially, hoping it was her powers finally starting up again. That was until the unmistakable smell of smoke reached her nose. She looked behind her and realized the grass around her was slowly catching on fire.

"Oh no," she said quietly, trying to wave the flames away, using all the tricks she knew to absorb fire but nothing worked. She backed away from it, edging closer to the tree of panthers who seemed completely unperturbed by the fire coming closer to them. Every time she tried to channel her powers and absorb it, it grew larger and spread faster. Soon, she was surrounded. Asha covered her mouth with her arm, trying to avoid breathing in the smoke that was now obstructing her vision. Deja-vu poked through the haze of panic settling over her - she had been here before.

She lifted a hand to the flames, praying that she, at least, still had her ability to touch fire and be unharmed. But that proved to be wishful thinking as well. She cried out in pain as the fire burned her skin and caused the palm of her hand to turn red and immediately blister.

She clutched her burning hand to her chest, tears flowed freely at the throbbing pain radiating from it. She had never known the pain fire caused and now she wished she still didn't. She looked around wildly, trying to find an escape from the blazing inferno that seemed intent on killing her. With no other plan or recourse available to her, Asha simply yelled out "Bast! Help me!" Who else was there to seek help from at this point? There was no living soul anywhere near her, she was sure of that.

She was just about to close her eyes, resigned to dying alone in this inferno far from home, when a glowing light caught her eye. She looked up and the smoke seemed to clear just enough for her to see a panther approaching her through the flames. If Asha hadn't been so awestruck, she would have collapsed with fear. This was no ordinary panther, she realized. Its skin appeared to be made of diamonds, glistening and shining in the light of the flames, and was as tall as Asha herself. It walked through the flames as if they were nothing more than colorful air that had no effect whatsoever. When it was close enough, Asha was able to look in its eyes. They were a rich purple, almost like someone hand-picked the finest jewels and plucked them in its eyes. It reminded her of something, something distinct that she couldn't quite put her finger on with the haze of panic around her. 

Bast. 

She didn't know how she knew but she knew. It couldn't be anyone else. 

She and the panther stared at each other for, what Asha considered to be, an uncomfortable amount of time. Asha realized how often she blinked as she stared into its jeweled eyes, examining the intensity in which this animal tilted its head from side to side to study her. 

"If you are Bast, give me a sign? Or you know... be quick about it if you are going to kill me?" She whispered, laughing uncomfortably to herself. She wondered if she was losing her mind, here in this unknown place trying to escape fire by talking to an animal.

The fire. Asha was so taken by this panther in front of her that she had forgotten about the flames so quickly, flames that she had been terrified of only moments prior. She looked around wildly, realizing that the smoke was no longer affecting her. She could breathe easy again, it felt like nothing different than standing in a field of flowers. And almost as beautiful, she thought to herself as she watched the flames rage around her for a second, relieved now that she knew it couldn’t hurt her. She knelt down and bowed her head, understanding who was causing this, who was in front of her.

"Open your eyes, Asha."

Asha lifted her head at the sound of a voice to find a woman where the panther once stood. Asha looked around and found untouched, seemingly perfect grass, replacing the burning field that was there before. She also realized that her hand was no longer red and pulsing with pain. All the evidence of the last five minutes seemed to vanish, like it never happened. 

"Y-You are Bast?" Asha asked, her voice echoed the disbelief in her head. The answer was obvious, other-worldly radiated off the woman before her. She certainly was not human. Her deep chocolate skin glowed like the sun, adored from head to toe in gold robes. Nestled on top of her long, flowing black locs was a simple golden crown with purple jewels settled around it. The rest of the world fell away as Asha stared at her, captivated and sure that she could look at her for the rest of her days and it would never be enough.

"You called for me, did you not?"

Asha blinked a few times, her desperate calls for Bast almost forgotten. It felt like ages ago now despite only being minutes. But she hadn't actually expected the goddess to show up; after all she called on Bast for decades and she never came to her aid those times. "Y-yes, yes I did. Thank you f-for saving me. I suppose I didn't think you would show up," Asha admitted with an apologetic tone. There was an awkward pause as Bast simply stared at her across the field, clearly waiting for Asha to speak. "I am in the Ancestral Plane, yes? I died after my crash?" Her tone was surprisingly calm and casual, as if she was confirming the weather and not her livelihood. 

She laughed lightly, "Yes and no, you are in the Ancestral plane but no, you are not dead. You came close, that is certain. That flight was a dangerous venture even for experienced flyers. But worry not, you are very much still among the living." 

"Oh." Asha stopped her silent walking just behind Bast, causing the Goddess to instinctively stop as well and turn to her. Asha looked to her left and saw yet another set of panthers leering at her from a tree beside her, each woman standing on either side of its trunk, staring at the other. Asha's eyes flinted from Bast to one panther in particular. Most stared at her with interest for a moment before going back to sleep or turning their attention elsewhere. But not this one, its deep brown eyes bored into Asha's soul so intensely that even when she turned away, it felt like a laser on her profile. 

"You almost sound disappointed by that fact." Bast responded, interrupting her staring match with the panther. Asha turned her attention back to Bast, an amused look on her face. 

"Oh no, I mean I am happy to be alive. I guess I am just confused. Why am I here then?" 

"Well, I wanted to speak with you. I have been watching you... waiting for the opportunity to approach you. The moment finally presented itself. You have visited us before."

"Yes, in my dreams. I did not know what it was though, but I thought it was just some place I made up. And I never make it past the flames. Wait - what do you mean you have been watching me?"

"I have been watching you as I do with all I have deemed worthy of a gift, waiting for them to reach out to me. I meet with all the gifted at some point in their lives. When they have reached a point in their self discovery, I find that most need to be pushed forward, as you do now. Some reach that point earlier than others though. The waiting can be difficult, as it was with you but you finally got there."

The breeze passed by the two women as Asha stared at her. She opened and closed her mouth, 15 years worth of questions, anger, and frustration rising to the surface but Asha wasn't able to put any of it into words. 

She settled on saying, "'The gifted?' That sounds like the Jabari?" It didn't feel sufficient but she was still gathering her thoughts. 

"Yes, on this Hanuman and I agree. He calls them the Chosen, I call them gifts but they are all the same. All chosen... all gifts to Wakanda, especially now since your brother has reunited all the tribes. It just seems, unfortunately, that my people have yet to catch on as the Jabari did. But I am hoping the Jabari can lead them on that path of understanding. Your father was a particularly tough subject, clearly my plan to humble him with a gifted child did little to help him see the light. I am always right, people believe. But even once a century or two, I get it wrong." 

"Doesn't sound like much of a gift," Asha muttered to herself, upon processing the idea that her life was nothing more than a pawn in Bast's master plan. Asha suddenly felt angry, anger that felt like it appeared out of nowhere all of a sudden. But really, it had been building, boiling below the surface for 15 years.

"What was that child?" The tone of Bast's voice signaled that she was not asking because she had not heard. She just wanted Asha to say it out loud. 

Asha drew herself to full height, standing tall before her goddess, anger still steadily rising. "I said it doesn't sound like much of a gift... to have your existence used as a pawn in someone else's life. I endured years of pain and abuse for what? My father left this world hating mutants just as much as he did before he had me. You are Bast… all mighty and all powerful and you couldn't humble him a different way? Dangling my life in the balance was the only way? Is that what you want me to believe?" 

"I leave my people to make their own choices. I give the signs, I give the lessons, sometimes I give explicit instructions... it is your choice to follow them. Your father chose many times not to follow, did not recognize the signs or actively chose to ignore them. I realized quickly that there was little I could do for a man like that." 

That isn't good enough, Asha thought angrily to herself. But she didn't respond, she just turned her head away from Bast, frustration clear and evident. She turned to find that damned panther still staring at her, and somehow it made her even more angry so she looked up at the sky, hoping its beauty would calm her. But it didn't. 

"Your life was never in the balance. You grew up strong and powerful, as I intended," Bast added, breaking the silence between them. "I was always here for you but I thought you had forgotten me... you stopped praying."

And with that simple phrase, Asha snapped. She scoffed loudly as her anger boiled over, "'I stopped praying??' I prayed to you every day for years. I begged and begged, pleaded and cried for you to take this gift back. I begged to be normal. Were those prayers not loud enough? Were the sobs and agony of one of your gifts not loud enough to earn an audience?" 

"And you weren't there! I stopped praying because you weren't answering, or giving any indication that you heard me at all! Is this what you intended? I mean, look at me! Look at my life!" Asha yelled exasperated as she paced by the tree, ranting angrily. "My mother hates me, my father went to his grave hating me, the only real family I have are T'Challa and Shuri, I am not connected to my home or country in any real way, and I have spent my whole life lying and hiding."

Asha roughly wiped the tears before adding, "A-and to top it off, I have a man back there who I am madly in love with that I don't deserve," a small sob escaped her lips. "That I can't be with because of things I didn't ask for. Because of you! Because of this life you forced upon me… This life that you call a gift but has been nothing but a curse for the last 15 years. A-a-and you call me here and what? Expect me to thank you for it? You call me here after 15 years of misery, 15 years of watching my life fall apart and you say it is what you intended?? This is NOT a gift!" She shouted, her voice startling a few panthers in the trees. 

Asha's chest heaved slightly as she tried to calm herself after unloading years of pent-up anger onto Bast. She couldn't help but blame Bast for every bad thing in her life right now, after all she just told her that she orchestrated it all. All that pain, all that tragedy she flew away from, she laid it at Bast's feet. She didn't know why or what she expected in return. 

"I do not expect you to not be angry with me, child. Your anger is fair. But where you see a life of darkness, I see one overflowing with potential.” Bast’s eyes were filled with understanding, despite just being yelled at. “But you are tired. And I understand that too." 

Asha nodded, she was tired. That was how she felt, simply exhausted. Life... her life was too much work right now. She looked around, the soft swaying trees, the serene violet sky, the peace. There was such peace here, there were no powers here. Asha craved for it. 

"You could just... you could just stay here," Asha whispered to herself.

"This place is not for you. You have many years ahead," Bast answered, voice matter-of-fact and clear.  

"Why not?" Asha asked, now considering the notion seriously.  "Y-You get to choose right?? That's what we are taught, what all the stories say? Well, then choose to let me stay!" 

"No." Bast answered again. "You have a job to do. You cannot do it here." 

"Fine, send me back, but take my powers. I do not want them." Asha began to bargain. In her mind, Bast owed her something, owed her what she asked. If she couldn't stay here, she could bring one aspect of this peace back with her. She could finally get Bast to do the one thing she had begged her to do her whole life. She can set her free. 

"No, you were chosen. Wakanda needs you, as you are today." 

"You have my brother! He is the protector of Wakanda. Whatever job you need to do, he can do it!" 

"Your brother is not enough. For centuries, the Black Panther has been enough. But your father made terrible mistakes, mistakes that have altered the future of Wakanda. And your brother, rightfully, has opened Wakanda's borders. With it, new dangers unlike any we have ever seen will come. He needs you. Wakanda needs you." 

"No... no!" Asha cried out in frustration, falling to her knees before her goddess. She hunched forward as her hands grasped the ground in front of her, her nails digging into the soil. She wondered if Bast thought this was amusing, how quickly her anger turned to desperation. "I cannot do this. I asked you for years and you ignored me. Listen to me now, please. I am begging you. I d-don't want this anymore. P-please." Asha's voice broke as she sobbed on the ground before Bast. She imagined she looked as pitiful as she sounded. 

"Stand up, Asha Udaka," Bast commanded from above her. "You are a gift. You were made from me, my children do not kneel or grovel at my feet." 

Asha steadied her breathing, stopped her silent sobbing as best she could, before standing before Bast once more. "Do you know why you have never made it past the flames before? Because you are so terrified of who you are. Instead of accepting them, accepting the fire and all that comes with it as part of you, you shun it, you run from it, you hide from it. And you are right, with a life like that, you will never be happy. You will always be afraid, you will always be running, you will always be living with the constant fear of being burned. You will always be tired."

Bast took a step toward her before continuing, "Or... you could make the choice to do something different. The life your father promised you is not the life you must have. Perhaps the role you believed you were going to have in Wakanda is not the role you are destined for. It will be hard, I will not tell you otherwise. Going back is hard. There are very few on Earth whose lives aren't exhausting, that is the burden... the sacrifice paid for breath pumping through your veins. But it will be worth it, it is always worth it." 

Asha looked around, everywhere but at the woman in front of her, unsure of what to say. Was it that easy? Trusting her, having faith in her after feeling forsaken and forgotten for so long? 

Bast's hand cupped Asha's cheek gently, wiping away the tears that still streamed silently down her face. "You could stay here. Truthfully, it is not my choice, it is yours. I will not stop you... Your brother had to make the same difficult choice not too long ago. He is destined to be the best of them, the man to lead my people to new heights. He returned home because there was work to be done. I believe he is better for it. I believe you will be better for it as well."

"How? What can I offer Wakanda? Or anyone like this?” she gestured to herself, imaging what her emotionally-broken form looked like to Bast. “Half of the country hates me, half of my family hates me. My brother had a role - King. I have nothing but powers that most of the country would rather me not use."

"That is far from true, my child. You have everything, everything you need already. You are rare... destined to be the best of them, I know this. And the path to that power hasn't been easy. You can hate me for it but this was the path you needed, this is what Wakanda needs. You have the power no other gift has had, power to do things the normal hand would not dare dream of - the power to undo atrocities and build lasting bridges all across Wakanda. You are rare... destined to be the best of them. I know this because I willed it. You just have to learn to love it, for all its beauty and terror. And then use it to save my people, save Wakanda's future. And then, you may find that giving and receiving love from others, and knowing you deserve it, is far simpler than before." 

Bast squeezed her hands tightly. Asha didn't know what future she could save, what she could do for Wakanda. But as she stared around at the panthers and the Ancestral Plane, she knew one thing for certain - she couldn't stay here.

A small whimper next to her caught her attention. The black panther in the tree next to them was no longer just staring at Asha, it was sitting up as if it sensed her soul was about to leave. It almost looked like the idea pained it. As Asha stared at it, she realized that something about it seemed oddly familiar. She knew this didn't make sense, she had never seen a real panther in her life to remember one. But she could not help but think this one seemed to know her. She suddenly remembered what her brother told her after his visit here. He was there. 

I wonder... she started to think, taking a step toward the tree, when Bast squeezed her hand again, stopping her movements. "It is time to go now, Asha. I fear we are sending you home with more questions than answers. But you will see me again when you have done what you are destined to do. Then you will get those new answers you seek, understand?" 

Asha gave the panther one last look of longing, knowing whose soul inhabited it, wanting nothing more than the same opportunity to talk to him as she just had with Bast. But she knew this was all in Bast's plan so she answered, "Yes," before turning away from the panther for the last time. 

Bast opened her arms wide and Asha tentatively walked into them, immediately leaning into the hug as she felt warmth and safety she hadn't felt in ages rushing through her. Bast smiled and whispered, "You know... I must hand it to myself. The Golden Trio... you all are the rarest flowers in my garden. Brilliant, capable and meant to help us in such different ways. You are the three pillars on which the progress of Wakanda will stand upon. In the absence of one, she would fall. It is a heavy burden I ask of you and cruel that I should ask it without offering any guidance. But like all my gifts, you must walk it alone. Right the wrongs, protect our future. And then we will speak again. Goodbye until then Princess Asha."

*****

Asha's eyes fluttered open, blinking profusely to adjust to the dim light surrounding her. Her head fell to the side as she laid there, recognizing the space as her bedroom in the palace. . She shifted beneath her deep red duvet cover, an audible groan escaping from the pain radiating through her body. Asha couldn't think of a time her body felt such extreme pain like this, feeling like she was just flung and subsequently trampled by a border tribe rhino. But she knew she had little space to complain. The fact that she was alive was a gift from Bast, that fall should have ended her life. 

Bast... her meeting with the Panther Goddess was fresh in her mind. It felt more like a dream, except she remembered it so clearly, so vividly. Usually dreams disappeared from her memory within seconds of waking up. But this seemed to be burned into her brain, like Bast wouldn't let her forget a second of it.

She started to sit up, deciding to find her family and apologize for her impromptu escape when a soft but firm hand stopped her movements. "Lay back down, Asha. You need to rest." 

Her heart leaped into her throat as she heard his voice. She looked up and saw him sitting on the edge of her bed. She didn't understand how she missed him, he seemed too big for her space. But she supposed she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts. "M'Baku?" 

A small but distinct smile fell on his face as he heard the relief in her voice, there was no hiding it. He squeezed her hand, the pair simply staring at each other as he helped her ease back onto the pillows beneath her back. She stared at him, happy but extremely confused. 

"W-what are you doing here?" 

His hands left her shoulders, rubbing up and down her arms in a comforting fashion. She appreciated the warmth of his hands, helping her realize how cold she was. She felt like her body would never be warm again. 

"I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were alright. Um... Let me get you some water yes? Stay here." Asha took in his nervousness, the anxiety in his voice. He was clearly trying to find busy work, something to do that was not simply staring at her or having the difficult conversation looming over him like a dark cloud. She watched him grab the water pitcher in the sitting area of her quarters. She stared around her, the profound desire to get up coursing through her. She just wanted to sit on the couch and talk to him, not lay in her bed like a patient. She swung her legs out of bed, ignoring the exhaustion and pain it caused to do such a little task. However, she would soon learn to regret that decision as she pushed off the bed to stand. The moment her legs took on her full weight, they turned to jelly. She crumbled back to the ground, with a soft thud. 

"Asha!" He ran back over to her, forgetting her water. "What do you need?" 

Asha tried to stabilize her breathing to talk, but nothing would come out. She had been so preoccupied, so trapped in her own thoughts that this was the first moment she actually registered how exhausted she felt. As if she could visualize it in her mind, she could see her internal tank empty, something that had never happened in her life. Panic settled as her eyes moved wildly around her room, trying to understand what she needed in this unforeseeable scenario. Her eyes fell on the raging fire in her sitting area. Was it that easy? she asked herself as she stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Her intense staring and look of longing did not go unnoticed by her companion. He picked her up bridal style, the young princess too tired to even be excited by being in his arms, and sat her as close as humanly possible to the fire without sticking her body in it. She hesitated for a moment, knowing it was crazy. But the flames seemed to call out for her, beg for her, growing taller and wilder as she watched them. She reached her hand out into the fire, the warmth immediately washing over her like someone basking in sunlight. She held her hand there, eyes closed, as her body soaked up all the fire in the hearth. Warmth spread through her arm and into every area of her body until she could feel it in every finger and toe, finally feeling full again. The price of her resurgence was the loss of fire in her room but she didn't feel as though she needed it now. She was not at 100%... she knew it would take some time to get back where she was. But this felt good.

"Better?" M'Baku asked softly from behind her, a comforting hand still on her back. He figured it worked, instead of deathly cold, he could feel the warmth circulating beneath her skin now. It wasn't as powerful as once before but it was there. 

"Much. Not 100% but close. T-thank you." 

He picked her back up and carried her back to bed. Once she was settled, he sat down on the side of the bed next to her. 

"You gave us quite a scare. Flying away like that. On your third try? You could have died."

"Flying is the only way to escape a brother with super speed. Before I knew it, I was in the middle of nowhere and couldn't hold myself up any longer. I didn't mean to scare anyone.” 

“You could have died, Asha,” he lectured. His words fell on her ears like a parent scolding a child instead of like a… she still didn’t know what they were. 

“No one would have cared,” she mumbled under her breath. She couldn’t even stop herself from letting it slip but as soon as it did, she wished she had. The hurt on his face was clear. 

"The King, Shuri, Nakia and the Dora care about you deeply Asha."

"Are they the only ones?" She asked softly. 

M'Baku bowed his head, avoiding her expectant stare as he thought of a response. He cared about her, deeply so. But was now the time to have this conversation? After she almost died? He supposed it was foolish to back down now. This was what he wanted this whole time, to express his feelings. But now that it was here? He wished he had a few more days to get his thoughts together. 

"No, not just them. There are some that care about you more than you know, more than you will let them show you." 

It was Asha's turn to avoid his stare, his expectant look. She was in love with him, there was no secret about that. But 12 hours ago, there were so many barriers in their way. Now those barriers turned to wreckage and recycled into new barriers. They were different, but how different if she still felt unable to commit to him and this? 

"The woman you want... she is not who I am always M'Baku. If this day hasn't shown you. You watched her attack me a-a-and I just sat there. I surrendered so easily like a c-coward. I- is that the woman you want? Truly?" 

"Asha, stop. You are that woman, I see her every time I look at you. What other woman could have survived what you survived tonight? You are strong, you are deserving. You just have to believe it."

She nodded softly, looking out the window of her bedroom, confused and struggling. Her mind like she was standing in the Great Mound, watching hundreds of trains whiz by her and she could not grab hold of any of them. So many thoughts, so many tracks moving in different directions. Here she was again, standing at the crossroads of what she wanted to have, what reality dictated she must have, and what the world deemed her worthy of having. There was not a fiber of her being that didn't want M'Baku, but did she truly feel she deserved him? Bast told her she did… everyone told her she did… but did any other opinions matter if she still felt unworthy?

And this being the first moment, she really considered the possibility of being with him and its implications, would the Jabari even accept her? Many of them did not want to rejoin Wakanda in the first place? How would they feel if their chief married a lowlander? How would the Wakandans feel if their princess married a Jabari? That was a bridge the two tribes hadn’t been crossed once in history. 

Beyond that, it was difficult to focus on sorting out her feelings for M'Baku when she knew her tribe was at risk, all because of her. She was surrounded by the very real reality that Elder Shani was trying to tear their house down. Her engagement was off, of that she was sure. Why would she uphold the end of the bargain when Shani figuratively set their deal on fire? But did that mean she was relieved of her obligation? Does that mean after giving her the ammunition to tear their world apart, Asha could just escape to Jabariland and live a different life? She was still the princess, after all. Her obligations to marry were gone but her obligations to her family, to the throne, to her people were very much present. 

And then there was Bast. Apparently, there was work to be done. Could that work be done from Jabariland? Or did she have to stay here? What future did she have to protect? How does one even begin to learn to love themselves or powers they have been conditioned to hate? She wished she had more time to ask Bast questions as a million tumbled through her mind right now. Now, she just felt like she wasted the short audience Bast gave her ranting like a child. The goddess wasn't wrong - it was cruel to ask her to do whatever job she needed doing with no guidance, no direction. She wasn't equipped for this... any of it. 

"Asha." M'Baku saw it clearly in her face, she was drowning, unsure of what to do, her confusion and concern etched into her face. She looked older, more tired and weary than he had ever seen her. Like in one day, she lived a thousand lives. He knew that look, saw it on his own face a million times as chief. He knew what it looked like to carry the weight of the world and he also knew how grateful he was to the people in his life who forced him to lay that weight down, who gave him a break for a moment. He just wanted to help her do the same. "How about we do this? We deal with the big questions tomorrow. And tonight, we just be. No big questions, no overthinking,” he gently tapped her head, causing her face to scrunch up and the first genuine smile he had seen all night grace her face. “No decisions, no complications. We just rest." 

Asha's heart immediately felt lighter with his permission not to think for a moment, his permission to lay her baggage down and rest her arms for a while. It would do her a world of good, she knew that. She nodded, smiling at him. "Let's just be. Sounds like a plan to me." 

M'Baku leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, Asha's body heating up at his touch. He looked at her for a moment before getting up from the bed, "I will take the couc-"

A small hand grabbed his, tugging him back. Her dark brown eyes looked up with him, unspoken pleads clear and on the tip of her tongue. "Stay. I want you to stay." 

Her meaning was clear, but M'Baku searched her face for confirmation. There were no reservations, no doubts. He rounded to the other side of the bed and slid in. She immediately nestled into his side, attracted to him like a magnet. 

"I would care," he whispered as she laid on his bare chest, her small frame dwarfed by his. He didn't hear a response but soon, he felt the unmistakable wetness of tears and knew she heard him. 

"T-thank you," she whispered back, throat tight as she tried to keep her emotions in. He kissed the top of her head before closing his eyes, another eventful day behind them and the start of something beautiful ahead.

****

Tags:  @destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @missmohnique @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami @leahnicole1219 @archivistofwakanda

[the-headbop-wraith]

X

3 _ 39 The Land Time Forgot

  A rebounding thunder of cries tumbled across the vibrant blue sky, terror gushing forth, metal grinding and mashing and rattling. The clank and rasp howled forth, and then a yellow blur winked out as it hurtled through a subterranean burrow. Further wailing echoed within, until the terror-stricken voices extinguished, and silence curdled forth.

 “Oh my god, did you see that!” A blue blur dashed to the side of a rail and peered over into the hollowed pit, she leaned far over with her leg slung up high behind her. “That had to be sixty mph!” She’s joined at the shoulder by a snazzy dressed figure, his grin dazzling.

 “Vii, indoor voice. Save it for the rides, or you’ll go hoarse again.”

 She snickered. “Neigh!”

 Further from their station, another wail of cries exploded, hooting as a small train cart blazed across the tight woven and spiraling track. As far as the eye could see, the colorful flashes and whirls of other attractions, laughter and screaming – though a few of utter horror wound through the wild rush of adrenaline junkies. The theme park was a popular tourist destination, long established and flocked by trees and clean-cut brush winding among the many pathways dominating the sprawling acreage.

 It was slow season, a good time to take a vacation for young people who could nail down a select date that would allow minimal competition with typical season swarm. This was one of the rare occasions that the Mystery Skulls crew could set aside some time for a much needed vacation, in-between assignments and on the road. They totally did not travel a hundred miles out of the way for this.

 “Where d’we even start?” Vivi bounced at the rail. “Do we work our way up, or just hit up the biggest, scariest, heart attack?”

 Mystery borked. Maybe… work your way up. He gave his whole body a shake, his collar twittering with the vigorous motion.

 “C’mon guys” Arthur beseeched, hands in his pockets. “I think we’re gunna get evicted from the place before we even get through a line. This is not gonna work.”

 Vivi looked at him innocently. “What’s not going to work?”

 He pointed to the Mystery hound. “Stick a vest on Misty. It won’t work, they’ll figure it out. And he hates it.” On that note, Mystery gave himself another rigorous shake. “Knock that off, or they’ll catch on you’re not a real service dog.”

 Vivi went over to Mystery and wrapped her arms around his chest, lifting the hound by his front. “But we can’t exile our most devoted case worker.” She swayed Mystery. “This is as much our vacation, as it is his.”

 Mystery gave Arthur a snarky grin.

 “Lighten up, Art.” Lewis set his hands on his hips. “The park and staff don’t want to deal with regular puppers. Mystery’s better behaved than some teens.”

 Ruff!

 “It’s not an insult. Work with me.”

 Arthur groaned and ran his hands over his head, pushing his spikey hair back. “Mind you, if we get caught this’ll be the fifth theme park we’re blacklisted from!”

 Lewis winced. “The ghosts in the spook house were so lifelike!”

 Vivi defended with, “You can’t tell me that magician wasn’t actually turning his audience volunteers into rabid hyenas!”

 Mystery barked! That whole buffet was going to waste!

 “You guys are nuts!” Arthur slapped his arms over his face and groaned. “I give us a half hour. We’re gunna beat our best record.”

 Lewis threw an arm over Arthur’s shoulders. “You worry too much, Artie. Relax for once.” He swept his other arm out, across the expanse of the theme park set before them. The looping coasters, the spinning gyros, lush fields of trees for the aesthetic. “This is our day to scream, not because crazy freaks in masks are chasing us. But because we’re having fun. You remember fun, right?”

 Vivi plucked Mystery up in her arms. “And I read the rules and regulations in-depth. No one’s allowed to ask invasive questions about our lovable teammate. All we have to do, is remind them he’s very important.” She did pouty eyes. “You wouldn’t say no to this face.”

 Mystery did pouty puppy eyes and made his lip quiver.

 Rolling his eyes, Arthur checked Lewis – who did eyebrow waggles – then returned his eyes to Mystery, who leaned forward and gave his nose a lick. “I get ‘Told you so’ rights, and unlimited churros, IF we get caught.”

 Vivi laughed and let Mystery drop out of her arms. “In the meantime! There are rides to check out and an assortment of foods to sample.” She bolted off, chasing Mystery.

 Lewis gave chase. “Vii! Honey! Don’t eat before the really big rides!”

 Arthur was not far behind. “Guys! Wait. Mystery! You can’t run, they’ll get wise to our illegal activities!”

 For the benefit of Arthur, the gang started off on some of the less thrilling rides. They tried the high-speed coasters, with tight turns and mild dips. In between the crazy coasters, they tried the wicked spinners or the high-flying swings that soared above the parks landscape. Most of the ride selection was based on Vivi spying the next tallest spire, and the group navigating towards that through the winding paths, and then getting distracted by rides or shows along the way.

 Though Mystery couldn’t go on some of the rides, there were a few picked out specifically by the group that he could participate on. Those being low speed with minimum restraints, the bumper cars – which he enjoyed excessively. There was a log ride, that allowed him to sit aboard and ride alongside Arthur. Or the leisure car ride, where Vivi let him drive his car; due to the karts being on magnet tracks, and not a lot he could sabotage.

 None of the ride attendants questioned the dog presence. The most they got was a ‘well, he seems large enough for this ride’. He was so well behaved, but it helped that the park was having a relatively quiet day. The lines for some of the main attractions were nonexistent, and even in the mellow themed districts of the park, there were not a lot of kids.

 At around eleven, the crew stopped in one of the Ages Gone district for some eats. The aroma of sauces and simmer meats enticed Mystery, and when it came to food Vivi tended to trust the canine. Each member of the Mystery Skulls elected a preferred food item from the one stop cafeteria they were drawn too, and then took trays off for a secluded space under a tree. It put them on the edge of a cool plot of land, which divided their location from a nearby coaster track Vivi was adamant about riding right after.

 “We’re not doing that,” Lewis denied. “We’re going on the low-key rides, have a little down time.”

 “Aye-aye,” Arthur chimed. He dug into his ultra-saucy, meat burrito, getting sauce all over his hands. “No rush anyway. I can’t believe how much free time we got, without every other family not coddling Mystery boy here.”

 Woof. Mystery dipped his nose into the Styrofoam box, nosing at some toasted apples.

 The group finished their meal, Vivi somewhat in thought and a little quiet. Lewis gathered up the trash and dumped it in one of the trash reciprocals. Then, they went on their way scoping out the rides on this side of the park. They strolled on one of the paths near the river rapids, where a circular boat transported riders across frothing waters and through tunnels with theme appropriate critters.

 “I know this is off season,” Vivi mentioned, while watching an empty boat sweep through, “but I’ve seen more people in line at the dentist for root canal specials.”

 Woof. Mystery gave a large yawn. He wasn’t fond of big, congested crowds bumping and brushing against his doggy shoulders. All that static was a nightmare.

 “Maybe that’s the latest attraction,” Arthur muttered. He was still sipping the liquified ice of his beverage from lunch. “Scariest attraction yet! The dental experience! Check it out, people are already fleeing in terror.”

 The group stalled, Arthur choked on his flat seltzer coffee. “Wait—”

 On the other side of a high fence, a roller coaster train thundered by, momentarily drowning out the factual and alarmed shrill of park goers vaulting through a small garden plot. People launched over fences, darting across pathways, someone landed in a small decorative pool but kept going, drenched.

 Lewis sided up by Arthur, pointing. “Um, is that supposed to be happening?” Upon a better examination of the action, the initiator of the stampede became apparent.

 A dinosaur! A legitimate dinosaur was rampaging across one of the attraction landscapes; one decorated with lush plants and tall fronds, elephant ears, and palms. Ride goers burst through the greenery, as the feathered and toothed monster lunged or ducked through the flora. The species of prehistoric nuisance was game for debate, but one factor was certain – it was a biped, with a sharp snout, dozens of teeth, and claws. It roamed to the edge of the boarder set around the acreage and gave a theatrical roar.

 Arthur frowned. “Oh crumb, it’s just one of those costume meet-and-greets. Ignore them.” He swung away and began walking. “I hate those, I always get heckled.”

 Mystery tilted his head, whining.

 “Those are screams of legit horror, not glee,” Vivi pronounced. She ran back and snagged Arthur by the shoulder. “You should know screams of horror! You’re a connoisseur.”

 Arthur stumbled backwards. “It’s a skill I’m not proud of!”

 Lewis had his head tilt. “Is that a dinosaur?”

 “It’s a guy in a suit!” Arthur spat.

 The dinosaur clambered over the fence and flopped to the pavement. With some effort, it righted itself and crawled across the pavement. It used the shorter front arms to lift up on its large, muscular back legs and trotted forward. It hissed, turning its snout and many teeth toward one of the tourist that had not scampered out of range. With a snarl, the prehistoric nightmare lunged at the man.

 Despite the clear panic and full retreat, the person now under attack made an attempt at snapping off a picture. He wound up dumping the camera in his newfound occupation of retreat, and darted across the pavement a rock formation that served as a makeshift barrier. He made it over the top but tumbled, and crashed into a bush on the other side.

 The dinosaur didn’t fool around with scaling the boulders, it charged at a section of fence built up beside the rocks. It bit through the decorative wood barrier, the glittering claws splintered chunks of bark. The fence collapsed, and the dinosaur prowled in among the shrubs.

 “Whoa!” Lewis yelped. He snatched Arthur’s drink and abandoned his group. “Hold up now!”

 Vivi tried to snatch his shirt back. “Lew! Wait! Art, Mystery! C’mon!” She charged after him. Mystery yapped and wasted no time.

 With a sigh, Arthur ambled after them. “No, Lew. Don’t. Ahh. Scary. Come back. Danger-Danger. Eek.”

 In seconds flat Lewis reached the destroyed barrier and chucked the drink at the dinosaurs shoulder. “Hey! Pick on someone your own size!”

 The dinosaur gave a low, cackling growl and spun away.

 “I said hey! You!” Lewis braced and leapt. “I said, pick on someone—” Before he could clear the brush tangled around the dinosaur, it lashed out with its tail and smacked the would-be hero clear off his feet. He hit a portion of fence that remained standing and flopped to his side, groaning. “Ow….”

 “Arf-Arf!” Mystery dove in and snagged his collar, with every intent to haul the large mortal back. His fur bristled as the dinosaur shoved its snout through the brush and growled through its many sharp teeth.

 Still a distance away from the drama, Arthur stalled in his tracks. “Wait! Holy shit! That’s a lawsuit right there!” And nearby, Vivi shrieked:

 “Arthur!”

 On her way to assist Lewis, she happened by a cafeteria and caught sight of a fire extinguisher attached to a panel on the side of the building – along with a fire hose, and one of the emergency phones. The phone box was locked tight. How practical. She rolled her eyes and delivered a high kick to the fire extinguisher box. The glass shattered, and the door popped open.

 “That… was unlocked. Wasn’t it?” She sighed and took the red cylinder and unclipped the nozzle. “Good to know.”

 Meanwhile, Lewis kicked back from the snapping jaws. The dinosaur clamped down on the standing fence and the whole pole cracked. Lewis pushed Mystery back, while he scooted away from the thrashing menace.

 Right as the beast lunged, Vivi dove in with the fire extinguisher. “Eat therma frost, extinct reject!” She unleashed a torrent of white froth, making sure to cover the eyes and get as much as she could into the mouth. When she tried to move closer, Lewis snagged her leg and the back of her shirt.

 The dinosaur shrieked and sprang backwards. It shook its body and appeared to be trembling. One final roar, directed the groups way, signified its withdrawal. Lewis heaved Vivi backwards, before the tail could slice out and knock her down. The dinosaur didn’t hang around, and stormed across the pavement back to the attraction it may have emerged from. The Land that Time Forgot ride.

 It was only when Vivi allowed the mist to clear that the three could see, the creature had retreated. Arthur came over and barreled through the mystification of what occurred.

 “For that, we should get dibs on every ride in this darn park!” Arthur stooped and patted Lewis on the shoulder. “C’mon. Ya gotta check the guy.” Lewis grumbled confirmation, and let Arthur with Vivi haul him to his feet.

 Vivi inquired, “How you feel?”

 “Mostly shookin’ and stunned.” Lewis flexed his arms and stretched. “It takes more than that to rattle me.”

 Together, the group ventured into the thicket to check the guy that fell. For the most part he was well, a little scratched up from the brush but that broke his fall and saved him a broken bone or two. Not long following, the security force showed up like secret service agents to assess the damage. Secret service agents dressed in dark blue and sweating through their uniform. They gave out checks to everyone who signed a release form, in the presence of one of the parks attorneys, alleging they would not press charges or speak about events, or anything. The affidavit was vague on details.

 “So,” Lewis rolled out, pointing to one of the guys clearly younger than him and getting minimal wage. “This kind of thing happens often?”

 “Um… no?”

 The park attorney, a short lady, pushed her glassed up on her face. Then, pushed the park security aside, and stood up to Lewis. “They’re not authorized to say.”

 Vivi pulled Lewis back and got before the attorney, and pushed her own glasses up. “Y’know what I smell. I smell corporate cover ups. You guys do a lot of that?”

 The attorney glared at Vivi. “I’m not allowed to say.” The two had a stare off, the electricity sparked between them threatening to ignite.

 Lewis got his hands around Vivi’s arms and hauled her back. Park security took ahold of the attorney and ‘escorted’ her aside. “Vamos arándana, don’t antagonize the staff.” Under his breath, “We might yet not get blacklisted from this park.”

 Vivi tried to look back. “I don’t like her.”

 Nearby and with Mystery, Arthur sat on a rock. “Honest, what attorney type are you chill with? I say, don’t sign the slip. Munnies or not.”

 Mystery reached a rear leg up and scratched at the strap of his vest. Woof.

 “Are we going to get back to our vacation?” Arthur harped. “Didn’t really sign up for dino-wrangling.”

 Attorney lady pried out of securities hands, and approached the group. “You three won’t be able to continue your stay with Fanatical Hypes ™, unless you sign the release forms.”

 Lewis looked down at Vivi. “Could it hurt anything? Signing away our souls for corporate profit?”

 Vivi stroked her chin. “Depends.”

 Arthur jumped off the rock. “Oh boy, I know that look. Vii, please. Vacation.” He pressed his hands together. “I’ll sign—”

 “We’ll sign,” Vivi blurted. She went over to the attorney. “On one condition.”

 The attorney sighed. “I am not legally allowed to speak of anything, regarding… this.” She gestured to the damage, and the work crews arriving in golf carts and supplies to begin clearing up the area. Another work crew was off beside the attraction entrance, clipping a chain across the yawning portal.

 Vivi shook her head. “I don’t want to hear what YOU have to say. I want to speak to your manager.”

 Arthur dropped his face into his hands. “Lew, don’t let her do this. Speak some sense into her.”

 Lewis rubbed the back of his head and turned to Arthur. “I think we’re gunna go ahead and do this.”

 With a wet sob, Arthur hauled up Mystery and buried his face in his neck. “We’re getting blacklisted for sure, buddy.

 Mystery sighed and rolled his eyes. He patted Arthur on the head. There-there.

 __

 It wasn’t so easy convincing Ms. Attorney lady that her employer should have a chat with the Mystery Skulls. What this all came down to, was they wouldn’t sign the release forms, and they were suspicious of the dinosaur creature which attacked visitors. Arthur had to pull up their work credentials on his phone, and show off some of the cases dealing with masked people getting into trouble and all that shenanigans for a profit. While Vivi handled pressuring the attorney with her shrewd businesses conduct, and disinterest with discussing further details with attorney lady until she spoke with top management. Lewis backed up his team, being kind of tall and scary when irritated, but mediating the two parties when his team got a little overbearing. The bottom line of their negotiations came down to:

 “And even if they won’t speak with us,” Vivi concluded, “We’ll sign your… sinister contract anyway.”

 Attorney lady blinked. ��It’s just a release form.”

 “It’s a legally binding contract! Ya can’t fool me!”

 Now, the group sat in the large and luxurious office. A replica model of the Fanatical Hypes ™, theme park, on the table beside the large desk. A door off to the right led to another room, where the attorney lady vanished into. The trio sat in chairs, and Mystery lay curled beside Vivi’s feet. They examined the room over, gauging the personality and temperament of the manager-owner. Some photos hung in order on one wall, underscoring debut attractions through black and white lens.

 “Daylight’s a’wasting away,” Arthur mumbled.

 “How are we going to enjoy the remainder of our day, if that thing comes roaming again?” Vivi snarked back.

 Arthur leaned back in his chair, letting his head recline on the headrest. “We can’t be like those storm chases, but we’ll be dino chasers. We should get pay per encounter.”

 Lewis leaned a little his way. “We already do that professionally.”

 Arthur twitched. “So why are we tryin’ to get tangled in this mess, on our one day off?”

 Woof. Mystery raised his ears toward Arthur. We’ll get benefits! His bob tail wagged.

 The back door opened, and a man emerged. He wore a nice suit with stripes, along with a bright electrifying tie. He surveyed the group, a set of small but trendy sunglasses fitted over his eyes. Following him was the Ms. Attorney lady. She shut the door and stood to the side.

 “I’m told you three refuse to sign some release forms,” he stated. The attorney nodded.

 Vivi shrugged. “We’re willin’ to sign, but we want to know what that… nasty thing was first. It’s for a little insurance. Your people seem to have a problem, one which my crew is prepared to assist you with.”

 The manager took his seat at the desk. “You think the three of ya’ll can help with an issue my park staff is prepared to amend? With our standardized procedures and dozens of work crews, on standby?” He leaned forward over the desk. “What’s your pitch?”

 The group exchange glances. Lewis stood up. “To start, your go to solution for this gig is have people sign the ambiguous release form. So I ask you, sir, what have you managed to accomplish with all your resources and park staff?” He crossed his arms and grinned.

 Manager blinked and edged back in his seat. “Er, well, my people are adequately trained—”

 “Adequately ain’t cutting it.” Vivi stood up. “My people are experts in this field of work, and we’re gunna save you so much money.”

 Attorney lady inched toward her boss. “Sir, you don’t need to listen to them.” She brought her arms from behind her back, and revealed the sinister clipboard with the forms. “They agreed to sign, if you afforded a short audience. You need not go further with this discussion.” She jolted when Vivi snatched the clipboard away.

 “Oh dear, you’re tots right. Guys.” Vivi set the clipboard on the desk and twirled the pen around her finger. “Guess we’ll be signing and leaving. We’ll just head off to some other amusement park, one with better rides, and the less likely hood of getting mauled. Though I love-love-LOOOOVVE the thrill of danger!” She cackled.

 Lewis brightened. “I love her when she gets like this.”

 “You would.”

 Mystery put his paws up on the desk and looked up at her. Vivi gave his head a pat.

 “A shame, isn’t it Misty?” She put the pen to paper. “He’s so excited to solve mysteries. It’s our raison d'etre. Isn’t that right, Mystery?”

 Lewis reached over and pulled Arthur up by the collar of his vest. The whole group standing, ready to sign and be on their way. When the manager looked his way, Lewis dropped the big grin on his face.

 “Hold on a moment,” Manager stammered. “Let’s not be hasty. Your group is qualified, in this field of work?” He snapped his fingers, looking to the attorney lady. “The Mysterious Stalls?”

 “It’s Mystery Skulls,” Vivi huffed. “And that requires some assessment. What exactly is your problem here? We’ve seen the results,” she gestured around the room, “damaged property, terrified guests—”

 Arthur piped up, “Potential lawsuits. If that thing tangles with the wrong people.” He shrugged, “Those checks won’t cover an amputation, and our guy nearly lost his feet to the jaws of death.”

 Manager groaned and touched his head. “All right-all right.” He reached over the side of his desk and fumbled with the drawers. After a brief spell, he pulled up a pill bottle and a bottle of water. “Ms. Carter,” he turned to the attorney lady. “Can you draft up some new affidavits?” To the Mystery Skulls:

 “You won’t be signing these.” He took the clipboard from Vivi.

 “Sir?” Ms. Carter posed. “Are you certain? These are freelance….”

 “Investigators,” Vivi offered. “And we don’t have a long list of clients, since we are thorough with our work.”

 Manager waved her off. “A brief work contract, swearing their silence if they so choose to work for me. The details of compensation will come later, with the results. Go to it now, I’m paying you.”

 Ms. Carter cast her eyes towards the group, then her employer, before exiting the room by the back door.

 “Now,” Manager replied. “Where to begin?” Again, he rummaged around on the side of his desk. This time he brought forth some folders stuffed with files, and from between the documents tumbled blurred photographs.

 The attraction for The Land Time Forgot, had several independently mobile and free roaming dinosaur animatronics. Models were based around prominent carnivores and herbivores of the cretaceous period – such as stegosaur, the tyrannosaur, raptors, spinosaurus, to name a few. Guests partaking in the ride, rode in a small buggy that navigated through a preset path. The ride was always fresh and exciting due to the primary attraction, the dinosaurs, roaming around or other times interacting with each other. Naturally, certain fail safes were programmed in, which prevented the animatronics from becoming unruly with one another or getting into traffic jams, which would shatter the existence of a natural ecosystem. It was also imperative to keep the imposing machines from wandering through the buggy’s trail, or exiting the park – these features self-sabotaging, since the mobility of each animatronic was limited.

 Save for one.

 “It was a gimmick, an innocent error,” Manager admitted. “One animatronic, the baby Allosaur, began to… deviate from it’s program parameters. At first it was considered an acceptable risk, it was almost real with its behavior. Reacting to lights, the sounds, other animatronics – the flash of a riders camera. But now, it’s an issue.”

 The allosaur deviated further, no longer reacting to only flashing lights or screaming guests. It began lunging at the buggy’s, though it remained within the programmed barrier which kept it from passing onto the road. This as well changed, and now the machine was routinely venturing out of the attraction itself. It was fine for a while, but now the theropod was attacking guests and the outside rides. For the time, the park staff managed to keep a low profile on these events, but rumors spread that one of the rides went haywire and now attendance was dropping.

 “Before,” the manager went on, “Profits boomed. People wanted to come by and see where the Allosaur would appear next. What mischief it’d get up to. But now, it’s damaging property, and I have to pay a higher commission for my attorney to handle guests who encountered it. Profits have plummeted, and thus far we have not been able to contain it. The artificial interface is out of control.”

 While the park manager spilled his tale of woe, the Mystery Skulls crew had resumed sitting. When he dallied on further exposition, they sat quietly, brooding through the context of their situation. Arthur did not look impressed.

 Vivi cleaned her glasses, and spoke, “So… stupid question. Why don’t you, I dunno, shut it off?”

 Manager nodded. “I wouldn’t say that’s a stupid question, more intriguing if anything. There’s a remote kill switch, along with a switch on all the animatronics which cuts power flow. The remote, I guess signal – I’m not good with the technological tactics – the animatronic overrides it. It refuses to shut down.”

 Now Arthur spoke, “That’s some hella AI game there.”

 “It’s cutting edge!” Manager gushed. “The ride was refurbished recently. When I purchased this theme park, I was told it was because the latest innovations went well beyond the anticipated recurring profits the original owner intended to make. Now though? I’m not certain if that was the genuine issue.”

 Lewis held up a hand and began counting off fingers. “Okay, so that we’re on the same page. One, you can’t shut it down. Two, you haven’t been able to catch-slash-stop it.” Manager nodded. “Cool. I think we can manage one of those two things. How ‘bout it Vii? You think we can handle this?”

 Vivi crossed her arms. “I actually think we should. We can handle it sir….”

 “It’s Klayton.” He rose from the desk and extended his hand.

 In due time, Ms. Carter returned from the back room with the paperwork for the short-term contract. It was a few pages long of formality, barring the Mystery Skulls ™ from speaking about the park, or do anything aside from detaining the Allosaur. There was a termination order, should they fail within a week to fulfill their objective. The group signed, as with Mr. Klayton and it was notarized by Ms. Carter.

 From there, the Mystery Skulls exited the managers headquarters, and returned to the attraction which housed the disastrous Allosaur.

 The first stop was the small disaster zone, where the Allosaur rampaged. Caution tape and some mobile barriers had been set up, barring guests from the traumatized site. Arthur slipped under a slant of the tape and examined the splintered pole from the fence. A couple meters away, Vivi stood examining the blocked entrance of the attraction. On the pavement, Lewis checked a muddy footprint.

 “What’d you take from all that?” Lewis called. “About the AI going haywire, and targeting guests?”

 Arthur dropped a splinter of wood. “Utter bullshit. I think it could still be some guy in a costume, like those meet-and greets.” He pulled out his phone and began swiping through the internet. “Allosaurs are much bigger, so why not make an animatronic to scale? Also, the movement was too smooth for a machine.” He approached Lewis and gave him a show of the images. Lewis nodded.

 “What about the Walking with Dinosaurs show? They mix people in costume and animatronics.” He poked Arthur’s phone, swiping away the images.

 Arthur muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

 Lewis grinned. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. And we can bargain in free food and lifelong passes.” Mystery came over to them, and he reached down to pet the hound. “And there’s no way we’ll get Blacklisted.” He unclipped the vest from Mystery and folded up under his arm. “You won’t be needing that.”

 Mystery had a full body shake. His hair poofed up all across his formerly lean dog shape, making him look vaguely pufferfish.

 “This was our holiday.” Arthur snorted, and pulled up some more search sites with images. “Let corporate avarice deal with berserk Jurassic Park gone exactly as expected.” When Vivi came over, he handed his phone to her and gave a brief of the speculations.

 “Don’t get confused,” Vivi stated. “We’re not doing this for Park Avarice. We’re doing it for the people that come here, unaware that the ride is dangerous ‘cause of the coverups. Still, someone is out there spreading the rumors, and persuading people to stay away. That’s definitely not done out of any kind of Whistle Blowing moral obligation.”

 Lewis cooed, “You think someone tampered with the animatronic.”

 “Yup. Someone wants to sabotage the park, and they don’t care if anyone get’s hurt along the way.” She turned to Arthur and handed back his phone.. “You wanna help people, right? And you’re good with electronics, maybe better than the engineers enlisted here.”

 Arthur pocketed his phone. “I work engines. There’s a distinct difference between circuits and engines.”

 “Anyway,” Vivi announced. She brushed past the guys and climbed onto one of the lower rocks, within the small garden plot. “We’re gonna solve this case, and prove once again you don’t mess with professional investigators!” She pointed her finger high, a playful gust whipped around her hair. Mystery hopped up onto the rock beside her and posed.

 Arf!

 Arthur leaned into Lewis. “She’s doing the pose again.”

 Lewis slipped a hand beside his face, and stage whispered, “The pose is empowering. It speaks to the spirits, beseeches their protection.”

 Arthur sighed. “We’re cursed now. Our quest is doomed.”

[missathlete31]

DEAD ON YOUR FEET Chapter 2 -

An AU in which Hangman is team leader and takes the missile to save Rooster. As he struggles to get himself and his teammate home, Jake is pushed to his limits in more ways than even he anticipated.

link below for chapter 1 if missed

(Does this picture have anything to do with the story.... not really but Glen looks hot and exhausted and in this chapter Hangman gets hot and is exhausted so we go with it)

Warmth is what brings Jake back to awareness after his plane crashes to the ground, and not a gentle warmth like an afternoon sun on a spring day. No, this is straight heat he feels, worse than the time his parents locked him out of the house in the dead of Texas summer. Jake struggles to open an eye; to gauge his surroundings, but even lifting an eyelid feels like a herculean effort and the pilot just can’t muster the strength at the moment.

Heat…Fire… Plane on Fire….Get up!

Jake’s brain pushes the connection through his body, awakening enough wherewithals for him to open a green eye and see the fiery remains of his jet all around. Somehow the crash threw Jake’s body out of the worst of the debris but when he looks up he sees pieces of the plane ready to fall and land on top of him. By his left side Jake can see flames licking at the ends of his flight suit and he knows he has to move. He turns his head slowly, cautious of whiplash or a back injury to see a clear path towards his right. An army crawl seems impossible so Jake tries to roll over instead. He makes it about an inch before a sharp pain on his right side makes him stop and swear for a moment before he gains enough momentum to lift his head.

He expects to see something sticking out of his stomach, the pain so bad he must be impaled, but nothing is visible meaning Jake is facing an internal injury. He’s had broken ribs before (his father the culprit of more than a dozen in his childhood years) but they never felt this bad.

A piece of burning wreckage teeters above him and pain be damned Jake forces himself onto his front as he scampers out of the way. He doesn’t clear completely, something hitting the back of his head sharply and causing his vision to tunnel. He pushes past it though, getting himself into a safer position before he falls back into the snow.

Jake is on his back now, looking up at brightened sky that feels wrong with all the discomfort coursing through his body. He knows he should catalogue his injuries, find what really hurts but his body is just one giant pulse of pain and he is almost over-stimulated because of it. He closes his eyes, almost on the verge of passing out again when he hears a plane’s engine. It snaps him back to reality, his eyes scanning the skies to see a familiar F-18 super hornet heading towards his location. For a moment Jake fights the urge to cry, the thought of one of his teammates coming back for him enough to quell the feelings of worthlessness he had grown accustomed too. Instead he tries to sit up, the sharp throbbing of his abdomen making it exceedingly more difficult, as he tries to flag down the jet overhead.

As the plane gets closer Jake can just barely make out that it’s a single-seater; meaning that unless Maverick broke the speed of sound to try to supply support, the pilot that came back for him was none other than Rooster. Jake’s mind wants to unpack this bit of information, but the blonde refuses to give it credence, his concern staying focused on showing Bradshaw that he is indeed alive.

The jet circles once but Jake’s not sure he’s more than a speck of debris from Bradley’s vantage point so he struggles to stand himself up. It’s not easy, not that anything at this point has been, but Jake manages to get to a knee before he looks up again and waves a weak hand up. He hopes Bradley sees something before a noise makes his stomach drop- Bradshaw hit one of the other missile zones and he’s below the threshold. Three surface to air missiles come shooting out but it only takes one. It makes a direct hit with Rooster’s left engine and Jake watches in horror as the plane starts making a beeline for the ground.

With a cry of anguish, Jake’s body crumbles to the ground. This is exactly what he never wanted, a teammate, a friend, dying for him. His father was right, Rooster was right, the team was right, all Jake was good for was to bring death and sadness to those around him. He wishes he never got himself up to wave, wishes Bradshaw saw nothing and headed back to the ship, away from danger and away from the damage Jake inflicts on those around him. Jake’s not sure how he could face a rescue now, how he could dare go back to the carrier and tell the others that Rooster died trying to save him of all people. Jake fights the urge to throw up but it’s too much, the grip of grief too tight on his heart and his stomach and he heaves into the snow roughly, the pain in his side burning at the effort.

Tears continue to well in his eyes and he blinks them away, his vision turning watery as he pushes himself back onto his hunches and looks around him. It is then he catches something falling slowly from the sky, a parachute deployed with a pilot attached. He gasps with a combination of shock, alarm and the underlying feeling of hope before Jake gets himself fully standing because Bradshaw is alive and he has to go get to him. It’s the motivation he needs to get himself moving again and he grasps that fact with all the willpower he has left in him.

Jake wants to run through the woods immediately but he forces himself to think logically first. He heads back to his plane’s wreckage, and can just make out his go bag under the flaming remains of his fuselage. It’s filled with a canteen, some rations, a first aid kit, a compass and his knife- basically everything he needs if he wants to survive and Jake finds in his heart he does, if not for himself than for the teammate he trapped with him. Shuffling painfully low, Jake reaches through the flames, struggling to ignore the licks of fire burning his fingers as he finds purchase on the bag straps. He pulls but nothing moves and now Jake can smell gas leaking, the ultimate sign of things getting a hell of a lot worse quickly. He pulls again, harder this time and the bag slowly wiggles but still it’s not free. He braces himself to pull once more but before he can the fuselage explodes in the most brilliant display of flames Jake’s ever seen. He’s too close to it though and he is pushed back with a force that knocks every ounce of air from his lungs before throwing him back into the snow. His head connects sharply with the ground and he’s seeing stars for a few moments before he can even begin to function. When he comes back to some semblance of reality Jake feels heat on his face. He tries to turn over but suddenly he’s vomiting again, this time with an alarming amount of red tinged in it before he falls over to his left, his face finding solace as it hits the coolness of the snow.

He wants to stay there forever. He wants to stay in this frozen tundra with his burning face buried in the snow for the rest of time. The feeling of cold is the only relief he’s felt since the crash and if he’s taking an inventory, his body is very close to its limit. Yet Jake knows he can’t stay. Bradshaw’s out there, in the woods because of him. He’s ejected from a plane and could be injured because of him. Burns, fractured ribs, concussion be damned, Jake owes it to Rooster to get to him. He thinks of Maverick’s pre-mission words once more and slowly gets his body moving.

Pain has always been a part of Jake's life: physically, mentally, emotionally. He taught himself early on how to deal with the worst the world has to offer so he tells himself that this is nothing. These pulsing waves of pain, that slowly overwhelm his senses are just a distraction. He forces himself up, moving first to his knees and then finally when his head stops spinning he gets his feet under him.

Once standing, he shoulders his go bag and takes a deep breath. It isn't as hard as he expects with possibly broken ribs or maybe he just doesn't let it be as hard as it should be. He is focused now, stubbornly so, and his mind has always been frighteningly obstinate when he wants it to be.

He looks back up at the treeline but he can’t see Bradley’s parachute anymore. He knows which direction it was headed though so he shuffles that way. Taking one last glance at his burning jet, Jake closes his eyes and wishes for strength. He doesn’t exactly get it but he’s got enough determination to push himself forward in a slow trot through the trees. It’s excruciating on his ribs but Jake’s made of tougher stuff than anyone’s ever given him credit for. He dissociates himself from his injuries as much as possible and keeps putting one foot in front of the other, his mind only on his teammate.

Like he promised himself before this mission, he is getting them all home.

Chapter One in case you missed it:

Ao3 link if you want to read ahead:

[greatshell-rider]

SKELETAL ESCAPADES: CHAPTER SIX

[Chapter Index] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Tibia worked with quick, quiet efficiency, as she has for most of her life, ever since her father's passing away had required her to step up in being responsible for family duties at a young age. She knew now what she'd learned quickly then: this wasn't going to work unless she did something about it.

She finished attaching the last spell to the skeleton, then sat back a moment, letting her sore claws rest while she gave the skeleton a final look-over, making sure no bones would explode or rebound as a curse. That hadn't happened since her early days of teaching herself magic, but it was always good to make certain. As certain as one could be.

She flicked a glance at her nest of eggs, lying still for once as they'd gone into hibernation, then refocused and leaned over the skeleton again. A songbird's, which wasn't ideal with its brittle, hollow bones, but Tibia had used up all the "deluxe" bones in the days previous. These were the last full set.

Closing her eyes, her head bent close to the bird skull, she murmured the activation spell. Magic flowed from her to the bones, establishing a link, and a faint purple aura glowed around the joints. There was no leeching pull from the Other side, as Tibia hadn't called the bird's soul back to inhabit its bones. No, she had neither the time nor energy for that. Even this simple necro-animation, the sixth she'd made in two days, left her nearly drained.

But not completely. She scooped the necro-animation up and went to CS2's cubbyhole, touching the bird skeleton to the chipmunk's half crumbled one and muttering another spell. More magic left her, but this time she didn't feel a link form.

CS2?, Tibia prompted with a gentle mental nudge.

The chipmunk skeleton didn't move, and Tibia heard no clear transfer of thoughts, but she felt, dimly, an acknowledgement signal in her mind. Through patient trial and error, Tibia had managed to repair their mental communication only that far, but it would have to do. She simply didn't have any more time to spare.

"There you go," she said aloud. "That's the last. Can you test it?"

No distant acknowledgement, but the bird skeleton suddenly sat up and opened and closed its beak a few times.

"Excellent," Tibia said with relish, the satisfaction (and relief) of her magic working making her crest flare happily. This level of magic, the ability to let one of her servants command other servants, was new to Tibia, made possible only because, after all the many, many tests and experiments over the past few sleepless days and nights, she’d learned CS2’s soul now . . . stretched. Just a little. It no longer stayed attached solely to its own bones, but drifted . . . and could now extend its will over other skeletons Tibia linked to it. "And you can control all six at once?"

She heard Lamp yelp down the tunnel, then the scurrying of little claws hurrying towards her.

“Warn me next time, please!” Lamp called

“Sure thing, love,” she said as she turned to see the other five necro-animations, two squirrels, a gecko, a hare, and another bird, line up in the den before her. Despite the speed of their arrival, they now all stood perfectly still, hollow skulls edged with purple staring at her passively. After CS2's frequent chatter and easy jokes, Tibia found these skeletons' silence . . . eerie. She wouldn't say creepy, not after years of enduring teasing and lost friendships over her "weird magic", but they were unsettling. A little.

Her crest was flattening slightly. She perked it up and said again, "Excellent. CS2, this has worked better than I had hoped. I'm glad you have some way of moving again, even if it's different."

She waited, but none of the necro-animations moved. CS2 of old might've danced a little jig or done a cartwheel, but Tibia knew it was still hurting, four days after the accident. She'd just hoped it would be . . . feeling a little better now, with mobility restored. Six bodies to move now, not just one! . . . Tibia could imagine it wasn't exactly an improvement, not subjectively at least, but it was something. They could both be grateful for that.

"Alright then, to your posts," she said, and all six necro-animations scampered off.

Tibia lifted her wings to fly off the perch, repeating to herself all the protections she and Lamp and Atomic had worked to build into the lair while she and Atomic were gone. The sentinels, the traps, and a third den, dug lower than the rest, where the earth was cool and quiet so Lamp and the eggs could slumber without disturbance. The hibernal den would be sealed but for airholes, then disguised as just another part of the tunnel's wall. When the eggs were settled, and Lamp with them, two of CS2's skeleton sentinels would guard them from within. Two more inside the main lair with CS2, and the last two set just outside the lair entrance. They'd get buried by snow, but would help Tibia maintain the proximity ward she'd set around the hill as a perimeter warning if any creature got too close. Then, in case something did get inside, there were the—what was that scratch at the back of her mind? Oh!

"Yes, CS2?" Tibia said, turning back. "Do you want to test the . . ." Her words trailed away as she realized with a jolt that CS2 was moving, for the first time in days, yes just a single claw scratching at the hard dirt but! But! Still moving! "This is wonderful!" she cried, crest tingling. "I was starting to think there wasn't any hope, but you've surprised me yet again, CS2!"

Another signal to her brain, this one a plea. Tibia's crest stilled, and she looked closer at the necro-animation's scratchings. The tiny claw finished a line, then slumped back, exhaustion bleeding over its connection to Tibia.

Tibia opened her mouth, then closed it. She tilted her head, then stilled.

They weren’t just scratchings, but writing. Words. In Draconic.

"CS2," she whispered. "When did you . . ." How did a chipmunk, no, its reanimated bones, sentient for just six moons, learn to read and write the dragons' language?

She stared at those two words. IT HURTS.

Another tug on their link, with the same imploring tone.

Guilt stabbed through Tibia, twisting her guts into an uneasy knot. It's begging me, she thought. And maybe . . . but no. Again, Tibia looked to her eggs. It was already killing her to leave them like this, her mate going into hibernation to heal faster. Even with all she had prepared, she worried it wouldn't be enough, that Atomic would be killed by her kin, that Tibia would return—if she could, traveling in winter without a banescale’s heat—to a wrecked lair, her new family slaughtered in the ruins of their broken home.

"I know," Tibia whispered, even as the guilt and fear burrowed deeper and nestled together as one. "I know, and I promise when I get back I will do everything I can to help make it better. I swear, by all the deities. But until then." Tibia paused, steeling her emotions and wrestling with her crest to keep it from revealing them. "Please. I need this last thing from you, CS2. Protect my family. Then you can rest."

She waited, and it took a while but she would not leave without an acknowledgement—and she got it. Quiet, almost imperceivable, but affirmative.

Tibia's crest drooped with relief. "Thank you," she said quietly. Tied by her magic, CS2 still had to obey Tibia's commands, but she would much rather a willing necro-animation guarding her home. If CS2 decided not to care any longer, Tibia's lair defenses would be dangerously less effective. It was the keystone in all this, its mind the control unit for the rest of her bone magic while Tibia was too far away to command them directly.

After all the initial eruption of denials and disagreements that Atomic and Lamp had made after Tibia's announcement of her plan, Lamp had been adamant about not going into hibernation with their eggs. He couldn’t wrap his head around relying on an undead thing to serve as their main defender, not even when Tibia had explained mages might be sent who could detect active life sources and use that to determine the location of the lair and attack. He’d kept glancing at the necro-animation, eyes flicking worriedly over its shattered bones. But Atomic had defended the chipmunk skeleton, saying she knew its little soul was strong enough to accomplish anything it needed. Eventually Lamp had been swayed, if not convinced, and agreed to trust in his mate. And whether Atomic actually believed what she'd said or was merely desperate, it didn't matter. She and Atomic knew the same thing: this wouldn't work without CS2. And because they couldn't be certain, they just had to trust.

Atomic poked her head into the lair, snow dusting her scales after her most recent patrol. "Lamp says the den's just big enough now."

Tibia touched a claw to CS2's skull, sending gratitude and reassurance through their link, then flapped down to her nest. "Then let's get moving," she said calmly, in direct opposition to the fast beating of her heart. Atomic moved to help her pick up the eggs. "We haven't the time to lose."

[capricornus-rex]

Love’s Mischievous Twin (6 - End)

Gif by @daisyridleys

Cal Kestis x Reader

I’ve finally finished it! I had extra fun writing the fight scene while listening to Duel of the Fates song, of course it perfectly fit with the vibe of that scene! Hope you’ve enjoyed the stories and my other stuff, guys. I really love the support you’ve shown. ❤

Summary: The Imperial troops and Inquisitorius threaten to occupy your home planet, a certain someone from the past gets a little too close for comfort for Cal’s taste.

Prompt: Jealous Cal

Legend: [p/n] = planet name; choose your own fave Star Wars planet ;)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Masterlist

6 of 6

Cal got separated from you in the chaos but you had to continue fighting; left and right, soldiers came running up to you in need of reinforcement. You worry for him but you knew that was strong, you told yourself that you believe in him. He’ll know what to do.

You aided the faction of Captain Osmos’s second-in-command in the marketplace. Very few troopers were stationed there but they had ones armed with heavy artillery like  flametroopers and Purge Troopers. 

“Hold fast!” You cried out, lightsaber gleaming in the night, a beacon in the midst of devastation.

Meanwhile, Cal joined Captain Osmos and Cere in the plaza. The numbers have thinned in the Imperial side. Death wrought an air of silence as the street was strewn with bodies. Out of the blue, there was a sharp jab in his senses—a disturbance in the Force—you felt it too.

He didn’t bother to confirm it with Cere. He just knew and this prompted him to leave.

“I have to find [y/n]!”

Cal sprinted through the city, retracing the path to your last known location: the marketplace. Between the plaza and the marketplace is the residential area—it was a wide area consisting of several blocks between both public areas. He sped through the streets, feeling you through the Force, and trying to hear your voice in the distance. He gasped for breath with every step he took; each one would bring you closer to him.

“[y/n], I’m coming!”

But something stood in his way: Armus. Fully clad in black like the darkness that consumed him, armed with the electrostaff whose indigo sparks crackled like contained lightning—impatient and wild—and the hazel eyes underneath that curtain of black fringes that were once so gentle to the look were now as furious as the inferno.

“Going somewhere, Jedi?” Armus growled.

Cal did not say a word, his thumb searched for the switch on his hilt and then ignited his lightsaber.

Armus’s smirk was smeared with arrogance and blind confidence when the lightsaber buzzed out the blades from both ends. Cal positioned into a defensive stance. Armus sprang from where he stood, screeching with seething hate, his electrostaff met Cal’s lightsaber, both weapons sizzled and spewed sparks on impact. Armus brought down his weight against Cal, but he was staggered away with the Force and Cal regained his composure again.

Cal and Armus have each other trapped in a dance of blades. The fight has brought them to the small residential square. Surprisingly, Armus was as destructive as he was skilled with the electrostaff. His blows were strong, one wrong move and he might overpower Cal.

“You just had to up and ruin everything, don’t you, redhead?”

“Sorry I stole your thunder… not.”

Cal’s snarky comeback provoked Armus. A flurry of slashes and overhead strikes ensues. He was able to put a dent on Armus’s defenses: getting the right timing to stagger the enemy, breaking Armus’s block with continuous strikes until he fumbles and then a straight-on jab, switching between lightsaber styles to deny Armus an opening to strike.

The duel went on for long and it was exhausting, but Cal isn’t allowing himself to falter—not yet, not now, not ever.

Armus landed another strike but Cal parried it hard just in time.

“You’re so persistent,” Armus chortled wickedly as he staggered. “That’s impressive. I wonder if she is just as strong as I think she is, I can’t wait to see for myself!”

“You’ll have to get through me first!”

Armus continued to flail his electrostaff, he doesn’t seem to be tiring out any time soon, but so is Cal.

“What does she see in you, anyway!?” he spat.

His every taunt rooted from his immense envy. Cal didn’t respond to his verbal taunts. But Armus’s anger blinded him, made him lose the grace that he demonstrated in the earlier moments of the duel. Eventually, he has resorted to brute force and recklessness. He continuously struck Cal’s lightsaber until his defense would break.

One… two… three… four strikes.

After the fifth hit, Armus—now overtaken with derangement—chuckled menacingly, “Don’t bother answering. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll deal with her once I’m through with you! I will have my way with her!”

Suddenly, that fueled something within Cal. He Force-pushed Armus away from him to afford a moment to regain himself. Raising his lightsaber to the level of his cheek, the look in his eyes gleamed with determination.

“I won’t let you hurt her!” Cal snarled.

It was Cal’s turn to send a flurry of strikes until Armus could falter, but he pulled away and kicked Cal to the ground.

For a moment, Cal body felt like giving up already—he was exhausted and his body ached, his adrenaline had worn off. He weakly snapped his fingers, signalling BD-1 to toss a stim, but before he could even inject himself, Armus darted toward him and kicked off the stim from his hand.

“No…!” Cal exclaimed even while out of breath, squirming on the ground to reach the stim.

“Aww, so weak and pathetic. I think [y/n] failed to see that,” Armus taunted. “You were so busy pretending to be strong in her eyes. Now look at you—writhing like a worm!”

Armus struck Cal on the leg with the end of his electrostaff, sending thousands of volts forcefully coursing through his weakened body.

“I will have her head and yours rolling at the Inquisitor’s feet!”

“Don’t get too confident, Armus!!”

You entered the duel with a jump attack, Armus blocked it at the last second, completely taking him by surprise. The indigo light from the electricity shone over your face while your eyes flared with an intensity that bested the wild cracks of the staff.

You swung your lightsaber and pushed Armus away from Cal, standing between both of them with the tip of your lightsaber humming threateningly at Armus’s face.

“You’re not laying anything on him ever!” you threatened.

Armus swung back with his electrostaff, he has you exchanging blows and slashes with him this time, he switched to using the electrostaff in a twin-blade mode; dealing with him afforded Cal to reach for the stim and heal himself. When he finally injected himself and let the bacta do its work but it was taking some time before he could actually recover and fight again.

Cal was able to stop an incoming blow from Armus with his Force slow to help you—it was the least he could do. You turned to look at Cal, he was still weak and lying on the ground.

You’ve overpowered Armus in a few things: stamina, speed, skill, and finesse. With the right balance of Force abilities and lightsaber skills, Armus couldn’t pick up the pace, not even with his twin-blade electrostaff.

Finally, you brought Armus to the ground, completely weakened and unable to fight back. You hovered your lightsaber over his nose.

“You’ve lost, Armus,”

Captain Osmos and a handful of his men strode into the scene of your duel, finding Armus lying flat on the ground.

“Take him away,” you commanded.

The squad encircled him, a guard confiscated his electrostaff, and Captain Osmos proceeded to cuff him. You run up to Cal, knelt by his side and shook him lightly on the chest.

You took his hand and placed your fingers on his wrist, feeling for a pulse, you lightly tapped his cheek to wake him up, you press your ear against his chest in search of a heartbeat. There! You felt the slow pounding of his heart.

“Cal? Cal, it’s over… we did it,” you mutter in his ear.

His lids slowly lifted, he blinked until the light in his eyes have adjusted; you were the first thing he sees and he manages a smile.

“Hey,” he softly muttered as he reached for you cheek.

“Hi,” you choked back tears as you happily kiss the palm of his hand.

“You came for me, you saved me,”

“Of course, I did, silly. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I love you…”

“I know,”

BD-1 scampered to Cal’s side, nuzzling on his shoulder, Cal lifts his hand to pat BD’s head and the little droid whistled with great relief.

You helped Cal sit up, supporting his weight with one arm on his back and holding his hand with the other. You let him lean on you while he tries to regain his strength.

Much later, the sun’s rays spill over the roofs of the houses while coloring the edges of the clouds in sunshine gold, at the same time tickling your skin with its mild heat.

Daybreak.

“Good morning,” Cal softly whispered while gazing lovingly at you.

You smiled back, caressing his cheek, “Good morning,”

You and Cal greeted the new morning together with the breeze flying through your hairs and fingers intertwined in a firm clutch. He remained leaning on your shoulder as you nuzzle your cheek on his fine red hair while you watch the sun fill the horizon.

[naruto-v2]

Minato x Kushina

“Tomato” The boy with a bandana pointed at her. “That’s what we’ll call you from today on because your hair is sooo red!” The laughed out loud, causing Kushina’s face to heat up. The had cornered her as she returned from the bathroom, but no matter. Her hands clenched into fists as she readied herself to defend her clan pride, her red hair. Suddenly, a boy with golden hair stepped in from of her.

“It’s not nice to bully others you know.”

“O-Oh Minato! We-We were just welcoming her! With a cool name, that’s all.”

He glared at them, causing them to scamper off. He turned to her then, “Why don’t you join my group for lunch?”

“Hmph, I didn’t need your help.” She crossed her arms angrily and tried to leave. Just then, someone wrapped her arms around her. She turned to see a girl with raven hair in short twin tails, like pineapple stems. “Kushina-sama right? Come on, it’s no fun eating alone. Join us?” Kushina, seeing that a girl was going to be there too, felt more comfortable joining them.

Kushina later learned that the girl’s name was Shimeru, a tomboy, fun-loving girl. She was then itroduced to Iyashi, a boy with shaved hair, and Yoshirou, a boy with long black hair pinned to the top of his head.

Iyashi, Shimeru, Minato, Yoshirou, these were her first friends at the Academy and the people she would end up spending many days with. 

********** When she realized that she was in love with him:

As usual, Minato escorted Kushina home, relishing their time together. Kushina shooed him away as they came to her front gate. She knew if her siblings say her with a guy, they would be relentless in their rumors and teasing. Minato smiled knowingly and waved as he left. Kushina opened the front door to see an empty house. It stood eerily quiet. Where was everyone? Usually her adopted family of five siblings would be running around, causing the familiar ruckus throughout the house. As she walked through the long hallway, a group of ninja suddenly crashed through the window and kidnapped her.

They tied her up, blinding her so she could not see and gagging her so she could not scream. Then they carried her as if she were a sack of potatoes, rushing off to an unknown location.

The entire way, Kushina dropped strands of her hair, praying that someone will come for her, to save her.

And someone did, Minato. With his speed and silence, he took out the two ninja before they could put up a fight.

Kushina felt herself drop into the waiting arms of someone and rush of air around her as the newcomer rushed off. When they got to a safe enough distance, Minato took off all the pieces of rope and cloth.

“Are you okay Kushina?”

“Minato!” Her eyes watered as she looped her arms around him. “Thanks for saving me.” She felt a strange sensation at the bottom of her stomach as her cheeks heated up.

She had her face buried in his chest but she could tell he was smiling. 

“How did you find me?”

He scooped her up as he replied.“Usually you would hear a lot of noise from your house, so I checked the chakra signatures when you went in.” Minato paused. "I went in after you but they must have detected me because I got stuck in a genjutsu.”

Kushina tensed up as she said in a quiet voice, “You should have gotten help idiot, not come after me. If you had gotten injured or died...” She choked down a sob. 

“Are you the jinjuriki?” He asked suddenly.

Kushina jolted as she stared at his face, expecting to see the frown and bitter eyes of the classmates she snarled at one too many times for calling her tomato.

But Minato just smiled. “It’s not a bad thing. It just means you are protecting our village.” he said, causing her heart to miss another beat.

He took her to his house that night and swore to interrogate the Hokage for what had happened tonight. There was no way a whole family would disappear for no reason.

*******

Kushina was known throughout the school as the red hot habanero- beating up any and all people that tried to make fun of her hair. And she was there again, surrounded by cherry blossoms, wet mud, and the menacing seniors of her school. Their friends had been beaten to a pulp by Kushina and they were hungry for revenge. Kushina, unfortunately, could not defeat these as they were older than her. Reluctantly, Kushina had sent a message to Minato for help and  he was there in a flash, body flicker. He fell over and rolled on the ground at first, but quickly bounced onto to his feet and whisked out two kunais. The boys recognized him immediately and backed off. They did not want to deal with the legendary Tsunade for hurting his son.

"I hate it,” Kushina muttered, hands twisting in the wet mud that was seeping through her clothes. “I hate this school, I hate this weather, I hate everything.”

She watched as Minato stopped and turned towards her, moving with cautious steps. He didn’t say anything, just opened up his arms in case she needed someone.

“Most of all,” Kushina sniffed, tugging at her soggy hair mixed with mud, “I hate this stupid mop on top of my head.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied, his hand brushing through her hair, “I quite like it.

She felt a tingling sensation in her stomach as her heart sped up. She coughed forcibly to hide her embarrassment. “Let’s just go home.”

He took her arm, incidentally at the same place where a bruise was forming, making her wince. He drew back quickly. “Sorry about that, I was just thinking I could patch you up a little before we go.”

Even though she had seen in multiple times, it still amazed her to see the green glow of the medical jutsu he used to heal her. And afterwards, she felt no pain whatsoever.

*******

“And now you’re telling me what's been going on with you,” Tsunade ordered, and indicating her son to sit down in front of him with a nod as Dan poured citrus tea into the cups. “You’ve got both of us worried.”

Minato laughed. “You’re exaggerating, mom.”

Tsunade narrowed her eyes at him.

“You think I don’t know my own son?” she said, before taking a sip of the tea.

Minato looked away abashedly.

“Now you talk or I’ll make you.”

The blond opened his mouth, then closed it. His parents were very familiar with his friends as they had come over more times than he can count. He did not want his mother doing anything irrational to help him...

“You’re mother’s right, you should talk to us. Especially when you need advice” Dan told his son, his voice warm.

Minato smiled at his father's remark. He tried to form the words, feeling a blush creep onto hos cheeks. Despite trusting them, this was an embarrassing topic to talk about.

“Is it your early graduation?”

Minato shook his head. Not that that didn’t bother him any longer, but … well, that wasn’t it.

“You worried about grades?”

Another headshake.

Tsunade’s lips uptured playfully. “Love, maybe?”

Something in Minato’s face responded.

Tsunade laughed.

“She’s gotta be a living goddess to have caught your attention.”

Minato looked up, face tinged red. “You could say that...”

“Don’t worry,” she told her son confidently, “I’m sure she’d be elated to have you.”

“I don’t think she likes me that way though.” Minato twisted around his cup.

“But I thought you were popular in school?”

Minato gave a small smile. “That doesn’t change anything. We- We’ve been friends for a long time”

Tsunade’s mouth formed and O at realization, “Ah, that is the most difficult decision.”

After a moment of silence, Minato asked, “How did you and father get together?.”

The blond took a deep breath. “You won’t get anything useful from that or any of my experiences with love. I stuck like glue around only one friend my entire childhood… and it was on the field that your father and I met. He was as sweet as you, Minato. I took to him quickly.”

Minato sighed and took a gulp of tea– he had to admit, his father had amazing skills when it came to tea. “So… what should I do?”

Tsunade looked to her husband, who was also thinking hard about this issue. 

“Maybe ask your other friends, her close friends, see if she likes you back.”  He suggested.

Tsunade shook her head, “At their age, they should be able to make their own decisions. You should talk to her. But be careful, changing friendship into a relationship is something you can’t take back.”

Minato’s lips curled into a tight smile.

“I understand.”

********

It was a week later that Shimeru walked up to him after school, “Do you like someone?”

“Uh… Why?”

She thought about it for a moment before replying, “Someone likes you.”

Minato’s breath caught in his throat. She can’t mean Kushina. “I like Kushina.” He blurted out, knowing that he can trust her with this information.

She gazed at him with wide eyes, then clicked her tongue. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed already. She is heads over heels for you. I know she told me not to tell but I want her to be happy. You know where she is, don’t delay it.” With a pat on his back, Shimeru left him.

“Hey,” he said, taking a step towards Kushina.

“Oh, hey,” she replied, smiling at him. “You waiting for me?” It was five in the afternoon, the time Kushina’s tutorials ended. She had more chakra than most people so it was hard for her to control it.

“Who else?” Minato flashed a nervous smile at his friend. He took a deep breath.

“You have so many friends and admirers Minato, I don’t understand why you don’t try indulging them a little.”

Minato stopped walking abruptly, causing Kushina to to turn around to look at him. “I like you.” He said a little too quickly. “Will you go on a date with me, Kushina?”

Kushina's face turned a bright red as she gaped at him. Her heart pounded out of control.

“Yes,” She said quickly. “Let’s do that. I mean, let’s go. I mean... where? Where to.”

He laughed at her blubbering, causing her to turn even redder.

“Ichiraku ramen?” Her favorite place, as Minato had come to know it.

“Y- your treat, though,” Kushina stated, crossing her arms as if trying to appear her normal, defiant self.

Minato smiled widely, relieved that she had accepted. 

“Sure,” he replied.

Kushina started to walk, and Minato followed. Somehow things felt a little akward between them, but Minato knew it would dissipate with time. 

*********

Kushina wandered Konoha, craving some restaurant food for dinner. ‘Tonkatsu sounds good. But it’s a bit expensive…’ she thought to herself. She passed buildings and people, surveying all the restaurants and their prices. Maybe I’ll just get the groceries first...

There was a sudden flash, and Kushina instinctively lifted her arms to catch someone that was falling in front of her.

After a moment, she realized she was holding Minato. He looked up at her with a big dumb grin. “Kushina, I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up.”

With a face as red as her hair, and unable to think of anything to say, Kushina dropped him. “Minato! W-What are you doing?”

Minato rubbed his rear ruefully. “Saying my daily ‘I love you.’”

She sighed, “I’m going shopping, why don’t you do something more useful and come with me.”

‘Five spice powder, rice, dried shrimp, dried seaweed,’ Kushina thought to herself as she rounded a corner.

And walked right into Minato, who was supposed to be helping her get the chicken for tonight. He gave her a big dopey grin. “Did you cast a genjutsu on me, because I’m lost in your eyes.”

Kushina looked at him with concern in her eyes as she pressed her hand to his forehead. “Are you ok?”

He smiled at her, “Of course.” He lifted the meat to show her, “I got what you asked and was waiting for you that’s all.

As they waited in the register line, Kushina whispered into his ear, “Where are you even getting these weird phrases?”

Minato gave an awkward chuckle. “I saw them on The Konoha Tribune and wanted to try them out.” 

Kushina rolled her eyes. “Reading the newspaper like an old man?”

“Hey, they have some really interesting things.” He said, a little hurt by her words. She shoved all the bags into his arms. “For annoying me all day and using me as a test subject, you better carry all those.”

“I was going to even if you didn’t ask.” She knew that of course, yet she felt a tinge of annoyance at his  smile. “I needed hands to do this.” She snapped back as she unwrapped a lollipop, his favorite flavor, and shoved it ungracefully into his mouth.

*********

“Congratulations on graduating,” Minato said as he swung upside down from a tree branch and brandished his bouquet of flowers as soon as he saw Kushina walking over. “I’m sorry I had to miss the ceremony.”

Kushina looked at his upside-down face. He looked handsome even like that. She knew he was really busy these days with the current political circumstances and an oncoming war, but she could not help feeling the sting of disappointment that he had not been there when she walked across the stage. Ever since the kidnapping situation, and the revelation that he could make up seals, it seemed like every one of the older ninja wanted his assistance, so much so that they’d asked him to graduate early.

Noticing her frown, he dropped down in front of her, reaching out to comfort her. “Oh, I’m really sorry, Kushina, can I make it up to you?”

“I don’t care that you weren’t there, idiot,” she snapped, blushing a little. “I’m going home.”

Minato followed her, hands in his pockets. She slowed down to let him fall in line with her, secretly happy to walk next to him under the stares of her classmates and their parents as they took the busy road away from the academy. As always, he filled her with warmth and calmness.

Then she realized the stares were not for her particularly, but for the bouquet of flowers Minato was still holding. She snatched it from him, “Ugh, you’re drawing a lot of attention with this.”

He chuckled, “I had to give you something.”

“Buy me some miso ramen then! That’s the least you can do.”

When they got there, They greeted Teuchi and his son Sarui. When Kushina asked about his day, Sarui boasted about how his wife was expecting a child and how it would be the highlight of his life. Kushina eagerly volunteered to help take care of him or her when the baby was born, remebering how she had pestered her parents when she was young to have a sibling. Minato agreed with her. 

***********

Kushina watched Minato with awe as he etched a swirl and a loop and a few characters into the bark of a tree, building on a half-formed idea as he worked. He had been developing this for months but only ever tested it to see if it works. Kushina had been learning the complex Fushi alphabet since three years old, yet she had never thought of mixing it with modern language, much less creating a new jutsus out of it. And he was only a chunin.

In that mission, Minato realized Toshirou, their teammate and his last friend from their academy group of five, did not return after the allotted 20 minutes to fend off the enemy. Kushina urged Minato to keep going but he refused to lose yet another friend. Kushina refused to let Minato go alone. Unfortunately, when he teleported there, they found themselves surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered. Minato’s teleportation failed the next two times, making him wonder if there was a cooldown time he did not think of. Upon fighting, both accumulated deep gashes along their skins and nearly exhausted all of their chakra. Minato tried the seal again, grabbing Kushina's hand and Yoshirou’s collar, focusing the last faded remnants of his chakra. The ground and the Cloud-nins vanished as they landed three miles away.

Minato’s knees buckled then and he collapsed onto the ground. Kushina cursed at him under her breath. She lifted him up, dragging him with her, each step sending another jolt of pain through her. Minato shuddered with an unseen chill, fingers tangled painfully in her hair. It was sheer luck that a medic was nearby. When Kushina woke up again in the hospital tent, she looked over to see Minato smiling at her. If she was not busy holding back tears, Kushina would tell him he looks much too happy for someone near death. Then again, he would only respond that being around her made him happy, no matter the situation.

In the afternoon, he was propped up in a sitting position to get some food and answer some questions the ANBU captain had, detailing his latest seal invention.

"What's so wrong with saving your teammates?" Minato asked when he finished. Kushina did not like these men pressuring Minato when he was clearly still recovering. Protectively, she had planted herself beside him despite the doctor’s protests that she should rest.

Kushina glared at him with narrowed eyes, fury rolling in waves off of her, and spluttered out ten kinds of obscenities. She wished  he'd get angry about something for once.

"You could've died," she snapped.

"You could've, too." He mused and added, "I didn't want that."

"Look, if you think I'm that easy to kill - "

He kissed her mid-insult, knowing that she was only going to start shouting and annoy the sleeping neighbors.

Instead of protesting, she leaned in and kissed him back like it's the last thing she'll ever do.

*****************

After her little outburst in the hospital tent he decided to rethink his priorities, and instead he decided to take on a Genin team instead.

"Your new students are 7, 9 and 9 years old?" she asked him in an incredulous tone and Minato merely scratched his cheek shyly before nodding. "That is much too young, way too young to be a ninja! They deserve a childhood."

“I think you are the only one who stayed at the academy until 13 years old Kushina.”

“And I needed all those years. Minato, when you become hokage, promise me you’ll change this. This… this just isn’t right.”

He rubbed her arms gently, “I understand. I will do what I can.”

When he told her it was Sakumo's son, she had expected a well mannered, generous young man. However, Kakashi turned out to be a haughty, snobbish little boy who seemed to consider others beneath him.

Kushina right off the bat told Kakashi that he was an arrogant little brat and should learn to behave. Kakashi shot back that he thought Kushina is a disgrace to ninjas and possibly a waste of oxygen. Minato has to slam a pot down on his table a little too hard to quite them, telling one to behave himself and the other to please be quiet, because she's being out-argued by a nine-year-old.

Kushina mutters something obscene as she leaned over to peer in the pot. "I thought you hated seafood."

Minato rolls his eyes and hands her an extra-large serving without a word.

When Kakashi's out of earshot, he tells her that his father had committed suicide last year and he had basically rejected everything that his father resembled, which unfortunately was respect, kindness, and honor. She softened considerably after that.

"I do not like that boy," she says sometimes – and then one day without any warning it becomes "I do not want that boy to live with us or anything" and he brings his student home from a mission to find saury and eggplants taking over their fridge.

****************

Out of all three of Minato’s team, Kushina loved Obito best because he loved to have fun and was respectful to everyone. He always sought out people to help and she always noticed it, all around town.

***************

The Yellow Flash nickname started as a bad joke between some jonin under the influence of too much sake - but it stuck and by the end of the month, nearly everyone in the village knew Minato as such. Then unexpectedly, one day, it turned up in a captured Mist bingo book.

"Welcome back home, you’re a day early." Kushina said as she helped him take off his coat. “I guess that would be expected from the Yellow Flash.”

“The... what?” He spluttered, gazing at her with wide eyes.

She laughed, “There’s gossip from my friends that everyone is calling you that.”

He tried to be modest about his new jutsu, of course. He explained the seal and the precise chakra control to the Leaf's elders and elite, first cheerfully, then seriously, and finally with growing desperation when he realized that no one else can even move themselves an inch with his technique. Other seals are brought in for him to examine - twisting, complicated ones on musty scrolls - and he found with surprise that he could read them like words on a page, expertly untangling them until everyone but the Sandaime and maybe Orochimaru completely lose track of what he's talking about.

************

Two years of bonding was all they got. Kakashi was only eleven when things went downhill. When Uchiha Obito died, Kakashi reevaluated his values and decided that maybe teammates really are more important. He swore on his life to protect Rin, but just as they left the collapsed cave, they found themselves surrounded. Rin with her fire and Kakashi with his lightning, they fought until they had exhausted themselves. It was lucky that Minato had come back for them in time to defend them.

Minato felt guilty for have left them to complete the mission and stood by Kakashi’s side, insisting that Kakashi be allowed to keep the Sharingan eye. He told Kakashi to live for the sake of the people he loves, have loved, and will love. Become strong for those people, as that was his nindo.

Kakashi expected that the Uchiha clan would berate him for defying the Sharingan. He expected Mikoto to glare at him every time they passed each other on the streets for letting her precious little cousin die. Thinking of her before it all, a kind woman who always invited them over for dinner, tore at his heart. He expected the punishment for almost failing the mission when he went after Rin. He expected the whispers that followed him as was for his father. But that did not mean it did not hurt.

Friend-Killer Kakashi. That was his first nickname, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. 

They never spoke it out loud in fear of punishment from the Hokage, but he could hear the whispers.

The rumors had started when he came back with the Sharingan. The Uchiha clan were outraged that their Sharingan could just be gifted away. Then their pride was damaged a second time when Minato beat them in court- Not that it was hard, the Uchiha rarely won in court. The very next week, everyone was whispering how Kakashi had killed Obito to obtain the power. The week after that, people hypothesized that it must have been jealousy for Obito and Rin’s passionate love. Some elaborate plan, they would say, to get the power and his crush at the same time. 

Rin always pulled him closer to her when they said these things, letting her warmth remind him that he was not alone, but it pained Kakashi everytime. He dreamed of his father many times, realizing how he had felt and hating himself for having distanced himself when his father needed him the most. He had the nerve to feel disappointed that his father had fallen so low. He regretted that he never apologized or said a proper goodbye. 

Oftentimes, he would wake up to the right side of his pillow dampened by tears. Obito’s eye. He was fine though, as long as he had his four puppies, and Rin. He vowed to dedicate his life to protecting her, for the sake of his best friend.

Rin mourned everyday, so to cheer her up and strengthen her, Kakashi put up a front, smiling for the first time in his life. He invited her out to meals and spent time with her, allowing her to curl up in his embrace and cry. It broke him every time but he always told her that he was fine, that she could always lean on him.

He could tell his change of attitude only spurred on the rumors, but Rin was all that mattered. As long as she was okay, he would be too.

************

Less than a year later, Rin died. Kakashi and Guy fended off the people as they urged Rin to go ahead and blow up their headquarters. Of their group of ten that charged into enemy territory together, only the three of them remained and destroying one of their communication spots would help move the war to Konoha’s advantage. He had not planned that there would be more soldiers waiting at the headquarters after the ruckus they made to attract their attention. When Kakashi realized Rin had disappeared, he left Guy to finish the mission and went after Rin, knowing he might die doing so. He felt that something was wrong when the soldiers put up a weak defense against him as he retrieved Rin. He felt that something was wrong when a strange dark chakra seemed to be emanating from Rin. But he ignored it all, he had to save her. 

Then they were cornered by a different group of Shinobi at a bridge. That was when Rin jumped in and killed herself. 

Kakashi went into a shocked coma. 

Minato sat silently outside the hospital room, his mind blank, and he had absolutely no idea what to do next until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. His wife sat next to him, one arm draped around him. They discussed the prospects of making him move in with them.

Kakashi’s mind cleared up after a month of muddled memories and twisting and screaming in his bedsheets. He woke up to see Kushina sitting by his hospital bed, holding onto his hand.”Kushina-san?”

She muttered a few incoherent words as she opened her eyes. “Oh Kakashi! You’re awake!” Kushina’s arms pulled him into a hug. Almost all his muscles clenched in protest. He had not expected such a warm greeting for what he had done.His mouth opened to say stuff, but the words were stuck in his throat as tears trickled down his cheek.

Unable to form a sound, Kakashi lifted his arms to curl around Kushina. She was warm and comforting, even if her hair tickled his face. “It’s okay, Kakashi. We’re here for you,” she murmured quietly, stroking his hair.

She pulled back slowly and stood up with a smile, “Wait here.” She stalked outside for a few moments before returning with Minato.

He rushed forward too and hugged him.

As Minato pulled away, Kakashi blurted out with a confused tone, “Why aren’t you guys angry?”

Minato frowned, a wrinkle creasing between his eyebrows. “Why would we be angry?”

One of Kakashi’s hands came up to gently touch the bandages that covered Obito’s eye. It still stung painfully, a constant reminder of his loss. “Both of them are dead.” His voice was flat. Dead. Like he felt. “Because of me.”

“Oh, Kakashi.”  Kushina sighed, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. She cleared her throat to speak with a firmer voice. “We truly believe it couldn’t have been you. You cared too much for her to have stabbed her.”

In that moment, Kakashi could see the front Minato had always put up drop to show a sorrowful and weary gaze. Kushina took his hand and squeezed it. “One of the hardest lessons to learn is that the people you love will die, it is unavoidable. It happens much more often in times of war and within the life of a shinobi.” He sighed heavily, sounding more exhausted than Kakashi had ever heard him. “All you can do is latch on desperately to a purpose. Your nation’s safety, your wife at home, your friends who are still alive. Wallowing in guilt over every death will only ruin you. If you want to honor them, remember them in your heart, Kakashi.” Kakashi, in his own misery, had forgotten that Minato had lost two of his close friends and countless teammates. 

He stared at the white bed sheet, blinking back tears. “I…” It felt like his throat was closing over feelings he couldn’t put into words. Kakashi trembled, his chest aching and his vision blurring. Even knowing that his sensei’s words were true, the guilt smothered him like heavy smoke, cutting off all his oxygen. Kushina’s arms wrapped around him again as Minato rubbed soothing circles in his back. In that moment, he dropped all his walls and felt his Sharingan eye cry. He leaned into her, feeling the warmth seep through him. Once again, he thought he could love again.

After his sobbing died down, she added, “We’ve discussed this and we want you to stay with us,” she said.

He opened his mouth to argue, but she interrupted loudly, “And no arguments. We already got the papers and everything settled!”

Kakashi’s eyes widened, “Papers?” 

“To adopt you.” Minato stated matter of factly.

Kakashi felt his eyes stinging again. “Are you sure about this?” He asked quietly, “I-I” His voice faded as he bit down on his lip.

Minato’s expression didn’t waver as he nodded. He never wavers, not in the face of danger, not when Rin grieved for months after Obito’s death nor when Kakashi collapsed after hers. “You’re my student, but you mean so much more than that to me.” Minato smiled gently, his skin crinkling around his eyes. “In fact, I admit I think of you as my son.”

Kakashi couldn’t look at him. Minato sensei’s words reminded him of his father, causing the ache in his heart to worsen.

Minato knew not to press the question. “Our relationship doesn’t have to change  if you don’t want it to, but I want you to know that that I care for you.”

Kakashi wanted to accept, but the memory of his father’s body with a sword through his chest made him falter. The thought of Minato or Kushina ending up dead as well was enough to relight that burning panic - his chest tightened, numbness like a shiver tingling into his arms. He made a strangled sound, like his father’s last gasp as he drove the blade into him. Minato laid a steady hand on Kakashi’s chest, seeing that Kakashi’s breaths were quickening.

“You’re all right Kakashi, you’re all right now. Focus on my hand.”

“How can I ever repay you for your kindness Sensei.” Kakashi breathed, feeling embarrassment heat up his cheeks. 

When they returned to Minato’s house, Dan urged Kakashi to eat some hot food before resting. It touched Kakashi deeply to see all of them talking to him as if they had always been a family.

After dinner, Minato returned to work and Dan offered to wash the dishes so Kushina could show Kakashi to his bedroom. Kushina guided him downstairs to the ground floor with a cozy living area and a door at the far wall. She brought him into the room: a bed with a shuriken print duvet on the left wall and a study table on the right. “You can sleep in here. Look! We’ve already changed the bedding for you!”

He was at a loss for words. “If you have nightmares, please don’t suffer by yourself, come to us, sleep with us. We have our arms open for you.” She looked at him meaningfully before showing him to the closet. Inside was all of Kakashi's clothes and belongings. “Feel free to decorate this room however you want!” 

He spun around to hug her, pulling her tight against him, as if she were his lifeline.

Kakashi was not opposed to being their adopted son, but he was only twelve and both of his teammates were already dead because of him. His mind screamed at him that he shouldn’t go near them. Yet, Kakashi wanted to believe that this would turn out for the better, that everything’ll be okay.

************

Tsunade came home early from the hospital for once as today was a special day. The four of them, Dan, Kakashi, her, and Kushina spent the day setting up the decorations, knowing that this event will be important to distracting Minato from the war. When he entered the room, the four stood up from their seats at the dinning table, "Happy 20th birthday, Minato!" 

As he sat down, Kushina and Dan both offered him a plate of a new dish they were trying out, pressuring Minato to choose the champion. He laughed nervously, torn between his father and his wife. Both of the dishes were delicious. His eyes wandered over to Kakashi, pleading for help. The copy ninja looked away, stuffing himself with another large chunk of teriyaki tofu.

“I- uh... like my wife’s better.” Dan huffed angrily as he sat back down beside his wife.

She brushed his pale blue hair out of his face as her red lips curved into a smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be the better cook to me.” Her leg brushed his under the table, making him shudder. 

“Lets book a hotel later.” He whispered into her ear. 

After an hour of joyous chatter and the clinking of silverware, Kushina called their attention to the cake. Kakashi eyed the cake warily. It looked so good but he had already stuffed himself full of the delicious food on the table. 

They launched into the birthday song, Kakashi being slightly off tune. Then all four of them watched as Minato blew at the candles. His first attempt did not take all of them out, causing Kushina to giggle and tease him for not living up to his lengendary status. He rolled up his sleeves and made a show of finishing the job. 

When Minato had opened all of their presents, all very ordinary civillian objects, he started a game of charades.

At night, in the privacy of their bedroom, Kushina whispered to him, “You know, you are my sun. Bight, cheerful, warm. Oh, if you left me I would wander the darkness of this would forever alone.”

Minato tickled her, “Where did you learn these cheesy lines?”

She giggled, trying but failing to push him away. When he finally relented and wrapped her within his arms, she gasped out, “My friends and I were doing poetry yesterday and they helped me come up with this. They say nothing beats a love poem for your hubby.” 

He nuzzled her neck, “They might be right. I really liked it. Can you repeat it to me?” And she did. Minato smiled fondly. When they were younger, Kushina would have been disgusted by calling him sweet things and dishing out compliments. But now, she served as his anchor to who he was and kept him alive through the hellish war.

Everyone smiled and waved at Minato with an air of respect. Respect for killing thousands of people in the war. If he hadn’t been hardened by all the deaths, he would have thought the notion disgusting. He tried to push it from his mind, to be proud of being one of the strongest Jounin in Konoha and a very possible candidate for the position of the Fourth Hokage, but he couldn’t help wishing he was a normal person. As a man with a fearsome reputation that struck fear in the hearts of many, Minato knew there were hundreds of enemies out there who have sworn revenge against him and his family.

Minato rarely came home because of all the missions his team was taking but Kushina wasn't bothered because she had Kakashi to give her company. She had refused to send him out on any more missions during the war as she felt he was too young, and had suffered too much already. He agreed with her only when she protested that she would be lonely at home and needed a guard as much as a companion.

If a mission had been particularly bad, instead of asking Minato about it, Kushina would hold him close, wrapping one arm around him and resting his head against her shoulder, reminding him that he. When he was ready, she would be there for him.

One night, he had the darkened look again and she sat silently next to him, weaving their hands together. After a moment, he told her of the Uchiha on his team that had died on their latest mission.

When the war was finally over, it was printed on the Konoha Tribune the very next day. Kushina kissed him passionately and they made love that night, ecstatic that the horror was finally over.

"I'm going to be Hokage," he told her a week after the treaty was formed, a cheerful grin on his face. Kushina tackled him in a tight hug, smiling brightly back at him as she planted a tender kiss on his lips. She had spent the week spreading news about his achievements to everyone she knew and had even convinced the press to spread his name even further. But she would not tell him that; she was happy to support him from the shadows.

As Kushina stood with Kakashi leaning against her in the crowd of cheering people both Ninja and civilian alike, she felt a sense of pride when she saw the newly appointed Yondaime Hokage standing atop the Hokage Tower, with his cloak billowing in the wind.

His eyes scanned through the crowd of people as if he was looking for someone, and when his blue eyes met Kushina’s own, a delighted smile made its way on his lips. She could tell he was looking at her, even without him saying it. She had felt him gazing at her for many years already.

The next day, they prepared for moving into the Hokage Residence so that Minato’s work would only be a step away. This allowed for efficiency and safety. Tsunade and Dan insisted on staying in the house, unwilling to let go of the place they have many fond memories of.

***********

Everyday was lively in their new home. Kakashi had gotten a room on the second floor because he enjoyed the view it offered. A blanket of green spread out to the horizon, and in the winter, it would be entirely white. Sometimes, he could see ripples in the leaves, indicating a shinobi returning from work to their family or a shinobi leaving for their next mission. Either way had a promise.

 Ever since moving in, Kakashi’s days had become more lively. Whenever Minato was given a break from from his duties, he would would thunder step into the house with his brilliant smile and play with the dogs. If Kakashi had not planned a mission for the day, and Minato would even train a little with him. Kakashi liked to be around Minato, both because of his charisma as a leader and his chakra, warm and sunny. It amazed Kakashi how easily Minato could draw everyone in to listen and fully trust his ideas. 

********

The frost bit into Kakashi as he stood motionless in front of the memorial. 

He traced his numb fingers over the carved letters. Uchiha Obito. Nohara Rin.

Hatake Sakumo, Kakashi added. For what he had done for his friends, he deserved to be up there too.

His lips were purple and his body has quivering, goosebumps running alone his arms. But all he could think about was the blood he still sees on his hand some days.

She committed suicide to save the village, he would tell himself. But then another part of his mind would whisper, No, you’re the one who killed her. 

His chest ached painfully as his right eye shed tears. I miss them… He couldn’t help remembering the times when Obito had dragged him to his house to eat dinner together. Obito’s grandmother was an amazing cook and was even kind enough to offer to teach Kakashi. He remembered Obito and Rin seeking him out on the weekends, dragging him to their sleepovers. He remembered all his banters with Obito and Rin’s constant support. Their laughter… their chatter… 

Kakashi’s knees buckled as he dropped to the ground, clutching at his heart. It was Obito’s death anniversary today, and that was the only time Kakashi allowed himself to visit the memorial. He knew his mind would get carried away and that it would only reopen old wounds, but he had to see them again.

A flicker of chakra was all the warning he got before strong arms wrapped around him, engulfing him in warmth. He sobbed, and gripped at the arms, seeking solace in the embrace. He didn’t realize how cold he had been until he felt the searing pain in his fingers and on his ears.

“Kakashi,” Minato said tentatively, “You’ve been here too long, you’ll get frostbite. Come home.”

Kakashi nodded slowly. “Take me home Sensei.”

The world blurred as Minato flash stepped home in the time between one blink and the next. Kushina stood up immediately from the couch and wrapped a thick blanket around Kakashi. A hot mug of chocolate milk, bitter just the way Kakashi liked it, was shoved into his hands as they sat him down.

The tears did not stop. Kakashi put down the mug to bury his head in Kushina’s chest. She held him tight against her. He listened to her heartbeat, the steadiness calming him slightly.

Kushina held him until his tears eventually ran dry and he sagged with exhaustion. 

When he finished his drink, Kushina helped him take off his jacket, pants, and shoes, leaving only his boxers and a thin long sleeve. She led him to the bedroom she shared with Minato and urged him to lay down.

Kushina fitted him in her arms and Minato laid down behind him, wrapping his arms around him. His sensei raked his fingers through Kakashi’s silver hair as Kushina rubbed his back, soothing the aches in Kakashi. With them, Kakashi felt safe and warm. Kakashi curled into the space between the people he thought of as parents, letting himself drift off into sleep. 

So be it that he was Friend-Killer Kakashi to the outside world. 

The only people who mattered to him knew the truth and that was enough. 

****************

It was with the influence of Kushina and his own love for children that Minato pushed the minimum age of Genin to 13, the minimum age of Chunin to 15, and the minimum age of Jonin to 17. This change, he hoped, would bring about an educational change and allow for more emotional stability. Two years into this reign, Minato felt that the economy had stabilized and, with both Kushina and his desire for children, decided to try for one. He believed that if they just kept a close watch on Kushina, the pregnancy would turn out just fine.

**********

Kakashi groaned as he pushed back his sweat laden hair. The summers in Konoha were unbearable, baking its citizens late into the night, and it was at its worst during midday. For the past month, he had taken up as many field missions up north as he could to escape the city-sized furnace. He loved the colder months: the icy chill, the snow-covered fields, the soft snowflakes, and the glacial waters. When he was young, he’d often make his father tell him stories of the Hatakes, Samurais and hunters from the Land of Snow, proudly wearing fur coats made from animals they have hunted down. Up there, towering spruce trees spread across the vast area, flourishing even in the cold. Konoha’s oak trees huddled together in dense clumps, surrounding Konohagakure in a sea of green leaves. He’d much rather be surrounded in frost than simmer in this heat, and sometimes he dreamed of sledding across the ice with the Hatakes. Kakashi wedged his way in next to his furry companions, all of whom had taken post in front of the air conditioning unit.

It was useless, pressing up against Urushi only made his discomfort grow. Even though they made quite a mess everyday and were near impossible to train, Kakashi refused to un-summon any of his puppies, and besides, they’re the ones that helped keep Kakashi out of nightmares at night. Kakashi wandered back to his bedroom to open his fan. He shoved his face into the warm wind, hoping for some relief, and let his thoughts drift to happier things.

Minato and Kushina were officially going to be parents- despite their insisting that they already were. Kakashi feared the monstrosity the kid was going to be. With the strength and healing of his grandmother; the sunny disposition and intelligence of his father; and the chakra of his mother, Naruto might very well save the world one day. And- Kakashi smiled- he will teach that boy, his brother, all his jutsus.

Kakashi glanced over at the right side of the room, where a crib had been placed. He had persuaded them to place it in here, knowing very well that the first months after his birth will be a constant headache. For the past few weeks, he had been collecting things to decorate the area, readying it to welcome home the boy. Just then, Shiba bounded into the room with a ball clenched in his jaw. Kakashi groaned, feeling lethargic and lazy. 

Bisuke whimpered pleadingly, rubbing Kakashi's hand. “It’s too hot to play, Bisuke,” Kakashi complained even as he took up the ball. At this point, his dogs knew he had a weak spot for them and couldn’t deny their requests. 

He threw the ball back into the living room, hoping to entertain the rest of the group. Bisuke gave a satisfied yelp before bounding after it. Kakashi smiled at the sight. Suddenly, a chorus of barking rose from the living room, followed by a familiar voice. Kakashi rushed out of his room to apologize, but Minato just shook his head, laughing, “I should be the one apologizing for startling your pets.”

Bisuke had darted behind the couch and, upon sensing the warm chakra, peeked out to see Minato. The other dogs were all bounding energetically around Minato, begging for his attention. Minato had seen it necessary to place three pronged kunais all over the house in case of emergencies.

The first thing that tipped Kakashi off was his hokage outfit. He had been working. The second was that he thunder stepped into the upper living room rather than go through the front door or the downstairs living room. “What happened sensei?” Kakashi knew that it was usually this time of the day that Kushina went to visit her friends, Mikoto and Meibuki. Could she be in danger? (Shimeru was dead, so was Iyashi, but the world must go on.)

“Nothing’s wrong… I just wanted to tell you about the dangers of giving birth as a jinjuriki. Let’s go into your room to talk.” Kakashi was intrigued yet worried. Nobody but the immediate family of the jinjuriki and the council knew of this secret.

Before heading in, Minato crouched down to give Bisuke a pat. “Sorry I startled you, buddy, I’ll play with you later ok?”

After they talked, Kakashi sat in grim silence, contemplating the situation. Kushina was in grave danger if her pregnancy ever got revealed. She did a transformation jutsu to walk around town but stayed indoors for the rest of the time. Kakashi could tell she was frustrated and irritated by the rules, but now Kakashi knew just how crucial it was. Minato took the ball from his pocket and waved it over Shiba’s nose, grinning. “Is this yours?”

Shiba yiped excitedly, making Minato smile. He pitched the ball across the room and laughed, far too calm for somebody who just revealed his wife was in danger. At least, it would seem to outsiders. But having lived so long with him, Kakashi could tell Minato was worried.

When Minato left to finish his Hokage duties, Kakashi tried to distract himself from the depressing onslaught of thoughts, he reminisced the first time he got the dogs. It had been a cool autumn morning and his father had come home from another mission with a large kennel.

He had sat down with Kakashi and revealed that his mother had been an Inuzaka. “Unfortunately, she died on the battlefield when he was very young. Her dog had been found barely alive, severely crippled but alive. She had recently given birth and the Inuzaka clan wanted to pay their respects by giving you one of her children.”

Kakashi accumulated more puppies along the way, always eager to adopt them into his family as it made him feel less alone. It was when he had gotten his third puppy that he realized he would need a method to summon them, and thus his use of ninken on the battlefield.

******

When Kakashi had helped Kushina put on her shoes, the swollen belly being an annoyance as always, he burst out that he wanted to go with her. She eyed him suspiciously. He had never enjoyed their gossiping and idle chatter. Plus, their children were much younger than him.

“If you are worried about my safety too, let me just remind you that I have and had two ANBU guards dogging me my entire life since a certain kidnapping incident.” She was getting quite fed up with being treated as if she were some porcelain doll, degraded from her shinobi status to a mere civilian. 

“No! I- I just get bored staying at home. Spending time with you sounds nice that’s all.”

Kushina had enough experience in her life to tell he was lying, but it was no use to call him out so she agreed. She made the most of it now, taking him to get a snack, see a sight, or get a dessert whenever they headed out. It made her less irritated, excited actually, to think of it as a son-mother bonding time.

“There's my favourite wife and favorite son!” Minato greeted them when they got home from their daily walk, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. 

“You’re home early, don’t you usually have a ton of paperwork?” The two, sweating from the sweltering heat outside, quickly changed into the slippers Minato had placed down for them and stepped inside.

As Kakashi watched Minato retreat to the kitchen, he realized that the light from the living room made it seem as if there were a glow about him. Kakashi smiled despite himself and thought about how both Minato and Kushina were so bright, carrying the will of fire confidently within them, that they could illuminate the entire Fire country together.

Kushina patted him gently on the back and led him forwards into her- no, their- home. Minato handed them both mugs filled with a light orange liquid with jelly bits. “I worked extra hard yesterday so I could be home to cook you guys something. I miss you guys sometimes, you know. And Kakashi, I bought your favorite drink, mango aloe.”

“You’re such a good father.” Kushina said as she took a seat at their dining table.

“I can't be your favourite son,” Kakashi argued, sipping at his drink. He closed his eyes to relish the refreshing coolness.  “You have your real son on the way.”

Minato, the twenty-five year old war-hero, sighed wearily, he had tried arguing this point before but it got him nowhere. Kushina waved the thought away as she sat opposite the two, “Naruto's going to be a crying mess once he's born. You, on the other hand, will be just as sweet and wonderful as now.”

Kakashi blushed, knowing his arguments might be annoying them. Yet they never showed him anything except softness, patience, and joy.

All the traits that made Kakashi admire his Sensei and his beloved wife.

************

When Kakashi went to sleep, cuddling one of his puppies as he always did, Minato pulled Kushina into the bath to wash together. He knew that it was a tough matter to be pregnant, as he could tell by her constant complaints, unpredictable mood swings, and strange food cravings. As such, in addition to caring for her, he made it his duty to massage her every night.

At first, she had been against it as he worked so hard as the Hokage, but he refused to relent. In the end, she consented only to stop his persistent requests. He told her that when Naruto was born, she would have repaid him two times over for his efforts.

As Kushina lowered herself into the tub, some of the water sloshed over the rim and puddled on the tiled floor. She leaned back against Minato, who was already accustomed to the slightly heavier weight. He kissed her ruby red hair, then her ear. 

She took his hands and moved it onto her protruding stomach, letting him feel the movements of their child. “He’s already got my personality, you know! He’s been moving around all day, that over-hyper child.”

“If he’s like you, I would think he loves ramen too.” They both laughed as they thought of Minato’s late night excursions to Teuchi’s home, begging for just one bowl. The first time, Minato had insisted that it was an emergency, not that he was trying to take advantage of his Hokage status. After a few times, Teuchi had a to-go bowl ready for him, and if they met, Teuchi would wink knowingly. “Wouldn’t want a very pregnant and very angry wife to go on a rampage would we. You wouldn’t be a very good Hokage if you let that happen.” Having visited his restaurant almost everyday growing up, Minato only laughed at his words and thanked him, knowing full well that he was trustworthy.

“You know,” Minato said suddenly, “I hope they have your hair, beautiful and red. Maybe they’d grow it long, and I can brush it everyday like I do yours.’”

Kushina took up a strand of her long hair between her fingers and smiled. The thing she had hated once had become a source of pride for her. “I hope they’ll have your sweet and sunny disposition,” Kushina returned.

Minato smiled at her, “And when they grow up, maybe when they have a crush of their own, I’ll tell them all about the first day I fell in love with you. Then I’ll tell them how I fell in love a little more every day since.”

“Do you think Kakashi would ever get a girlfriend?”

Minato chuckled as he repeated the words his mother had said to him once, “She’s gotta be a living goddess to have caught his attention. You know, if he just smiled more, all the girls would be fawning over him.”

“Ah, that is true. He is a very handsome and intelligent boy. I’m so glad to have him as our first son though, he is much more mature than people his age.”

“I hope Naruto is not too crazy.” They both laughed again. Minato pressed his cheek into the side of her hair, watching as she scrubbed her arms.

It wouldn’t be long now before they’d get to meet him, and they were oh-so-ready to welcome their second son.

“I’d like it if our children were friends,” the red-head murmured, and looked up to see her husband wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I’ve no problem with Mikoto-san, but her husband… ”

“Come on, Fugaku isn’t that bad,” she pressed.

He raised an eyebrow at her, then sighed, “Their pride and stubbornness really gets to be too much at times.”

Kushina replied quietly, “The Uchiha are only defensive because everyone else discriminates against them.”

“I know… I’m working out a treaty right now, and Fugaku is a sensible man. He knows the best course of action will be to accept.”

Kushina intertwined their left hands together, gazing at the glimmer of their wedding ring. “I know you’re trying your best, but will you be able to get it through the council? You told me before that the council protested against letting Uchiha have any form of power.”

He rubbed her shoulder with his free hand, “I got the education laws through, this shouldn’t be any harder. You know I won’t relent unless it goes down peacefully.”

Kushina giggled, “My stubbornness really has rubbed off on you.”

When they finished off their bath, Minato helped Kushina out of the tub and into her clothes. She always got a little frustrated at the difficulty of putting on underwear and shoes by herself, but Minato’s presence was enough to calm her.