#i think i might get myself a book cart or something similar for my room tho

[colorisbyshe]

asked myself the question “what would my bedroom look like if i moved some stuff around to open up the space”

decided there’s no time like the present and busted my balls moving everything around

just to answer my question with “my bedroom would look like shit” 😓

[spencersawkward]

hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ��wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

“come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.  

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

[kimberly-spirits13]

Right Hand Man (Loyal to the End) Pt. 8

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You were like Talia’s daughter. The only thing was that you weren’t and instead, you had grown up in the foster care system and at a young age were taken by and personally trained by Talia. Along the way, you meet Damian and the two of you start to work side by side and eventually, after some time become closer and closer. However, when disaster in the league strikes, you face balancing an old, forgotten life as a normal child and the burden of right hand to the demon heir.

Note: I know that this is long and that there are a good number of time skips, but I didn’t want to make this into a series and just wanted it as a long fic because .... well because I can lol

Also, I didn’t want to have Damian so young in this so just go with it. I’m thinking maybe early 15 or almost 16 at the most. Idk I just don’t like writing for young Dami.

Warnings: angst, almost losing someone, buildings on fire, bombs, the usual lol

Word Count: 2181

Masterlist for Series

Both you and Damian had now been secretly dating for two months. It was an exhausting game of cat and mouse of either running from his family, or the prying eyes of the press. You had just excepted at this point that this was just going to be a new normal for a long time. There was nothing you could seriously complain about much however. This was all you had wanted for years and if the company of clandestine meetings was going to be a center of attention in this relationship, that was what was going to happen.

        Dates were mainly just tea or coffee on the rooftops late at night for only a short amount of time if it was on patrol, and longer if it was at the manor. Right now, you were sitting in the library, laying in Damian’s lap, both reading your own books. No one but Alfred was in the manor however, you were sure that he knew about you and Damian. Light streamed in through the windows and silence blanketed the room as Damian ran his fingers through your hair, occasionally braiding it. You fiddled with the matching golden ring on your left ring finger some as he did this. This was the most relaxed you had been in years and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

        He didn’t know this until recently, but the only professor that had ever lived was one that you had. Your voice professor used to braid your hair during warm ups. She was the closest thing that you had ever had to a mother and in return for this, you begged Talia to let her live. You decided not to make it out so that you trusted or cared for her, but rather that she had connections to people that the league could use. With this tactic, Talia actually allowed her to leave but under a life- long oath of secrecy to protect the league. You braid your own hair when you were stressed or anxious but it’s better having someone else do it. Damian only found out when you started braiding and braiding your own hair in the roof tops one night at the league, only to let the piece unravel and start again.

        “Beloved are you going to go on patrol tonight?” He asked breaking the silence.

        “Of course.” You answered, “Is there a reason you asked?”

        “No, I was just checking.”

        “...Damian, how long do you think we’re going to stay a secret? I’m not upset or anything of the sort, it’s just a bit exhausting sometimes.” You questioned, flipping the page of your book.

        “I don’t really know Beloved. How long do you think you’d want to stay like this?” Damian set down his book to give the conversation his attention seeing as this one was important.

        You audibly sighed as he started braiding a portion of your hair, twisting it around and then letting it lose again, “I don’t really know, 3 months at most maybe?”

        “Are you tired of seeing strangers online pine away after me?” He asked smirking.

        You rolled your eyes and jokingly slapped his arm making him laugh, “What about me? I’ve seen plenty of suitors for myself.”

        “Don’t remind me Y/N.”

        “Oh no, I’ll remind you. First there was one that actually messaged me asking if I was single. Oh, another that tweeted asking if I was single. Then, there was another that mailed a love letter to the man-“

        Damian cut you off, putting his hand over your mouth making you laugh. You sat up and sat crisscrossed in his lap facing him, running your fingers through his hair.

        “You didn’t really think you could shut me up that easily did you demon?” You asked quietly.

        “I’d gage you would find a way to get your point across any way you could General.” He kissed the corner of your lips which made you glare at him some before pulling him in for a real kiss.

        “Next time some girl gets a hold of you at a gala though, just make sure not to charm her for me, will you?”

        “Whatever you say.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        Patrol started off boring and uneventful. Nothing exciting was happening but for maybe a few ally level crimes. You and Damian were perched on the rooftops looking down at the city lights and occasional people. Damian had obviously gotten the whole Robin outfit, in his own version of course. You however, took the same style as your past uniform. It was similar in the sense that it was amour and a hood, you still had your knives and compartments, this time though, the color was different. He couldn’t see the look on your face through the mask you were wearing which covered your lower face to your eyes, but he was sure you were bored. He was going to start a conversation when the comms came on with Bruce talking loudly.

        “I need everyone at the Rosehill Apartments on 7th Street! There’s multiple bombs spread throughout the building, civilians are inside.”

        You looked at Damian who nodded at you before you both swung off the building.

        “ETA 2 minutes.” You replied back getting onto your own bike and speeding off towards 7th St. following Damian.

_______________________________________________________________________

        Upon arrival to the building, you could see that everyone else was already inside but for Nightwing who on crowd duty until you two had gotten there.

        “There’s one more bomb in the kitchens. Everyone else is either getting their own or helping the residences escape.”

        You looked around for an entrance that wasn’t in terrible condition. Once you found one you ran towards it at full speed with a bomb on your mind.

        “Stick close, the roof might not be stable anymore.” You said, “If the bomb goes off, I expect you to leave immediately.”

        “Beloved I’m not leaving you if anything happens.” Robin replied running beside you.

        You didn’t reply, instead bursting into the kitchen and jumping over one of the carts in the way of your path. Using the locator on your wrist device, you scanned the room stopping when it got a hit.

        “It’s in the freezer!” You ran over and opened the door into the large room, “Hold this open and make sure it doesn’t close, I’ll disarm the bomb.”

        Damian nodded and did what you said as you went inside and ripped open one of the floorboards to find a massive collecting of wires and buttons connected onto one device. The type of timebomb was one that you had seen plenty of times before in training and when you yourself had used them. Part of training was learning to make one so it wasn’t too terribly difficult to disarm this one. The hard part was getting out.

        “Y/S/H/N!” You heard from behind you as you were about to stand up, “The place is on fire.” Damian called out, “We have to leave!”         You turned around and saw the place ablaze. Damian already had his other mask up over his face so he could breathe when you got out of the freezer. The two of you started running out to find the hallway also up in flames.

        “Don’t come near the kitchens, the whole place is going up in flames.” You said, “Bomb has been disarmed however.”

        “Good, now get out of there.” Batman replied back.

        “Working on that.”

        You and Damian sprinted down the hallway making sure no one else was inside on your way out. Once in the lobby you turned hearing someone screaming from a room nearby.

        “I’ll be right back.” You said turning around locating the person who was a small child.

        “I can’t find my Mommy.” She said sobbing into your arms.

        “I promise you I’ll find her.” You said running back up front, “I’m going to give you to Robin and he’ll take you outside, I’ll find your mommy.”

        You reached the front of the building where Robin was, “Take her, she can’t find her mother, I’m going in after her.”

        “You can’t, the building is going to come down at any minute!” Damian said taking the girl in his arms.

        “I have to check, I can’t let her grow up without parents like I did.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        You ran inside not really aware of what was happening outside anymore. Looking around you saw no sign of anyone but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be buried under something. As you did this, you pulled out the scanner again but this time had it scan for biological creatures instead of machinery. There was nothing at the point where you were. Going farther into the structure was a no go at this point but it was your only option.

        Outside, Damian was trying to find the girl’s mother in the crowd as he mentally cursed himself for allowing you to go inside. He should’ve done more, he could’ve done more but he didn’t. Running to the line of ambulances, he looked for someone that matched the girl’s description of her mother. When he finally found the person, he rushed over just in time for the lady to see her daughter and burst into tears. She hugged her daughter and thanked Damian for bringing her back to her before Damian rushed back to find you.

        “Y/N!” He screamed getting inside catching your attention.

        Further down the hallway you heard Damian yelling for you. You turned around and started headed quickly for him and once he saw you, he announced that they had found the mother outside of the building. The two of you started running for the exit when you looked up hearing a faint beeping. The exit was 50 feet ahead and the closer to it you got, the louder the sound.

        “Damian! There’s a bomb above us, I- I think it’s about to blow.” You said as pieces of wood from the building came down little by little, “5 seconds now!”

        Damian had a look of terror as he picked up the pace. You knew that both of you wouldn’t make it without a little boost so you got behind Damian and launched him out of the way where Nightwing was standing right as the building was coming down. The last thing you heard was a defining thunder and then the screams Damian who was kicking and trying to get away from Nightwing to go back for you.

        “Y/N is still inside you idiot let me go!” He sobbed trying to elbow his oldest brother in the rib.

        The second round of explosions came, only making the structure collapse more, fire raining down.

        “Beloved!” He screeched making Nightwing almost drop him in surprise at what he called you.

        He understood why Damian was fighting so hard now, but that didn’t mean that he could let him go. The rest of the family standing by heard it as well. It would’ve been hard to miss anyways.

        “You can’t go in after her!” Nightwing yelled over the explosion.

        “I have to! She’s the only one I have, I have to go! Let me go!” Damian got lose just as the dust was settling.

        He ran to where he last saw you and started digging, tears filling his eyes so that he couldn’t see. There was no chance you were still alive and if you were, it wouldn’t be for long. That was when he heard you try and move something. He was looking in the wrong place, only a few feet away. When he saw where you were, he lifted the piles of wood and debris off of you to find you badly injured and hardly awake.

        “Beloved stay awake for me okay?” He said lifting you up out of the rubble.

        There was a part of your side where you had gotten impaled. It didn’t look like it hit any vital organs, however, you were bleeding out rapidly.

        He swept the hair out of your face and gently held you to him as he ran for the Batmoblie quickly trailed by everyone else. With you in the backseat, Nightwing front, and Batman driving, you were quickly headed for the cave. Damian wrapped your wounds tightly and held your head up in his lap checking your pulse every few seconds.

        “How is she?” Bruce asked sparing a glance at the back seat.    

        “Unwell, I-I don’t know how she’s still alive.” Damian responded.

        “Enhanced strength from the pit.” You groaned some in pain.

        “What the hell?!” Dick turned around to see you trying to sit up, “Enhanced strength my ass, how many times did you take a dip?”

        That earned a sharp glare from Damian and a reprimand from Bruce. He apologized realizing that he overstepped.

        “Beloved don’t move like that, just stay down.” Damian said gently, “You’ll only hurt yourself more.

        Getting to the cave, you don’t remember much, just waves of pain and floating in and out of consciousness. The only part that you really remember was the worst part, but that was later to come when everyone really thought you would die.

Tag List-

@we-want-mini-mini​ @a-door-into-my-mind​ @idkmanicantenglish​ @queengeorgiaaa​ @lucy-roo​ @wolfiemichele​ @grey-water-colors​ @random-fandom-girl-24​ @crumpets-are-better-with-jam​

[vindicatedvirgil]

in the library / logicality

for those of you who don’t know, i’m in a master’s degree program studying to become a librarian right now. so, yeah, i spend (or, you know, spent, before coronavirus) a lot of time working in public libraries and learning about libraries and studying.

so, here, a logicality human au. Patton is a Children’s Librarian and Logan brings his two sons, Roman and Remus, into the library. wanna know more about librarianship and how it’s actually a really hard thing to do? i’m always happy to answer questions. i am so Patton here.

includes: dad!Logan, eventual logicality, adopted kid!Remus and kid!Roman trying to get the two together, lots of fluff so please prepare your hearts

wordcount: 5133

(masterlist)

Patton looked down cheerfully at the child he was helping. His biggest joy in life came from helping young kiddos find their perfect book; whether it’s because they’ve read all of the popular stuff and need something new or if they are reluctant readers who need something to pull them in to reading as a hobby, Mister Patton always has something for them. And when he wasn’t doing reader’s advisory, he was trying his darndest to diversify their collection, run storytimes for the littles, and set up a book club for those almost-teens. Sure, most days he went home completely exhausted, feet aching in his sneakers, a dull headache poking at the back of his eyes, but it was all worth it. Even on the days that he had to deal with parents who tried to force their kids to read their childhood favorites or parents who complained about Patton’s Pride Month book display (which he was very proud of) didn’t deter him from doing what he loved.

He never turned away a question or passed it along to a coworker. Sometimes he would ask for recommendations from his fellow librarians but for the most part, Patton stuck to his guns and did his best for every single patron that came in, regardless of what they wanted.

One afternoon, a tall man with glasses and a dark blue tie came in with his twin sons, one dressed in red and the other in green. Patton gave them a warm smile.

“Hello there! Is there anything I can help you find today?” He asked cheerfully, looking between the three. The boy in red spoke up first.

“Do you have any new fantasy books that have dragons and princes?” He asked excitedly. The boy in green rolled his eyes, and the dad set a hand on his shoulder.

“Roman doesn’t judge you for what you like to read, Remus, don’t judge him,” He said. Patton stood up from his seat behind the desk.

“Have you checked out our new books display?” He asked, walking the three over. “These three books right here are some incredible new fantasy books, perfect for kids your age who love knights and dragons. I’d take them all, give them a try. Always read the first few pages and if you can’t get into it, set it down and try something else. It’s never good to force yourself to read something you don’t want to, unless it’s for a school assignment,” Patton explained. Roman smiled brightly, taking the three books in his hands, turning towards his dad.

“Thanks!! Dad, can I go sit on a chair and start reading?” The man nodded and Roman leapt towards some of the reading chairs. Patton turned his gaze to the boy named Remus.

“Alright, and what are you looking for, kiddo?” He asked, smiling. Remus frowned, crossing his arms.

“Got any horror comics?” He asked. His dad sighed, but gave a nod to Patton, who led the two over to the graphic novel collection. He selected a few of the best comics for his age, and suggested some other ones. Remus went over to sit and read, and the dad smiled weakly.

“Thank you, er-”

“Patton,” He smiled, holding out his hand. The man took it and shook it once, the firm grip startling the librarian. “Or Mister Patton, whatever you’d prefer.”

“Logan,” was all that the tall man said, glancing over at his sons. “They’ve needed a distraction lately. I just adopted them. They’ve had a rough time at school, Remus especially. He can be… eccentric.”

“They seem like good kids. Probably a sign of their good father,” Patton said cheerfully. “They might be interested in our Dungeons and Dragons group, our writing club, or our book club. It could be a good way to help them meet kids who have similar interests.” Logan nodded, looking down. Patton started walking back to the desk. “Here, I’ve got a flyer with all of our kid and teen activities coming up for the next month. If you have any questions, my email address is on the bottom of the flyer.” Logan took it, smiling lightly.

“Thank you, I’ll see if they’re interested.”

-

“Alright, let’s pause the campaign there for now, kiddos,” Patton smiled, closing his DM notebook. “We’ll meet again next week to finish it off.” A chorus of thanks Mister Patton rang out throughout the meeting room as most of the kids left to go home. Patton glanced nervously at Remus and Roman, who left together but were chatting with a few other kids. He cleaned up the space and exited the room to see Logan standing there, waiting for his sons to finish chatting with their new friends. He had a faint smile on his face. Patton held the notebook and tote bag with his materials close to him and approached the man.

“They seem to be… doing well, now,” Logan mused, eyes focused on the twins. Both were talking animatedly, smiles on their faces. “Programs like this… it’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Patton sighed happily. “That’s why I push so hard to have programs for the kiddos. Everyone needs a place to belong, even two kiddos who share the same face and DNA. And who have a pretty neat dad.”

“You put a lot of effort into these things, it’s amazing. So many kids show up and are interested in all of the programs you do, I don’t think it’s just that they need a space to fit into, but I think, in large part, it’s because you provide them with a welcoming space,” Logan watched as Remus walked over to the two. “You have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Was all that the boy said, watching his brother. “Can we go now?”

“Sure thing, go get your brother.”

-

Patton was walking the aisles of the grocery store, handbasket in tow, trying to figure out what he would make himself for dinner. He didn’t always love living on his own, especially when it meant lots of silent nights in front of the television, but at least he didn’t have to argue with anyone about what to eat.

“Mister Patton!” A voice rang out behind him. Patton spun around on his heel to see Roman dashing toward him, Remus pushing a cart and Logan not far behind. The dad waved a hand in greeting. “Mister Patton, are you shopping for your family’s dinner, too?”

“Oh, um,” Patton smiled weakly. “I don’t have a family, Roman. It’s just me. I’m doing my shopping for the week’s dinners.” Remus approached him, peering into the handbasket.

“Lots of microwavable meals in there,” He pointed out. Patton stammered, his face turning red. Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses as he turned to examine the poultry.

“M-Mostly for my lunches,” He explained. “Don’t worry, kiddos, I get my nutrients all good and well.” Remus raised an eyebrow. Roman looked to be deep in thought.

“You should have dinner with us, Mister Patton!” Roman finally exclaimed, then he ran over to Logan. “Dad, can we invite him over for dinner? Please?” Patton was at a loss for words.

“I don’t want to impose, really, I’m okay with making myself dinner,” He tried to make his voice as clear as possible but it wasn’t every day that he got invited to have dinner with someone other than his television. Logan sighed, nodded, and Roman bounded back over to Patton.

“Please, Mister Patton?” His eyes twinkled, and Patton’s heart gave a gentle tug. Kids asking him things with eyes like that was his biggest weakness, he could never turn down a kid with a soft voice and hopeful eyes. “We’re making roast chicken and veggies, and I’m going to try to make some cupcakes!”

“Thank you, Roman,” Patton smiled, “I’d love to join you, if it’s not too much of an issue.” He glanced over at Logan, who was setting some chicken in the cart.

“It’s no imposition. You’ve done great things for my sons thus far, and… cooking is sort of our way of thanking you, I suppose,” the tall man responded. Remus took a pen out of his pocket, grabbed Patton’s hand, and scribbled down their address and a phone number onto his palm.

“Here, now you’ll know where to go,” He said, tucking the pen back into his pocket. Patton smiled down at him, then at the writing on his hand. “I wrote my dad’s phone number, too. Just in case.”

-

“I’ll get it!” Roman exclaimed, running to the front door to open it. Patton stood there, changed out of the clothes he was wearing earlier and holding a gift bag. “Hi, Mister Patton!”

“Hi, Roman,” Patton smiled kindly, stepping inside. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner.” Remus came around the corner and hesitated, then waved at Patton. “Hi, Remus.”

“Hi,” He said before he walked into the kitchen. Patton followed Roman into the kitchen as well, and saw Logan chopping up some vegetables. Remus hopped up to sit on one of the empty counters. “Roman, what kind of cupcakes are they?”

“Lemon cupcakes, and I still need to make the raspberry frosting,” Roman responded, opening the fridge to take out some raspberry jam, butter, and milk. Patton set the gift bag on the table, watching the interactions in the kitchen quietly. “Mister Patton, do you like lemon and raspberry?” He went to the pantry to get the powdered sugar sugar and vanilla.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Patton responded. “Do you often bake cupcakes, Roman?”

“Not always cupcakes. I want to bake more. I like making cookies the most, I think, but last weekend I made a coffee cake for breakfast and it was really good,” Roman mused, starting to put the ingredients in a bowl to make the frosting. Logan put the veggies on a pan and put the pan into the oven, then turned around to look at the boys.

“It was a really good coffee cake,” Logan said, leaning against the counter. Patton glanced at the fridge, noticing all of the photos that had been put on it, the magnets around. He noticed a photo of the twins with a mom and a dad, but next to it was a photo of the twins with Logan, all three of them in suits, and a sign that said Adopted Today! held in front of them. Patton tore his eyes away from the photos and turned to Logan.

“I brought a small gift, as a thank-you for letting me join you,” He said, gesturing towards the gift bag. Logan raised an eyebrow and picked up the bag, opening it. He pulled the bottle of wine out. “I don’t know if you’re much of a wine-drinker, but it’s a pretty good bottle.”

“I do, actually. I’ll pour some for us to have with dinner.” Logan asked. He turned around and opened one of the cabinets, pulling two wine glasses out. 

-

“These cupcakes are so delicious, Roman, I could have three more,” Patton said, licking the frosting off of his lips. “You really are an excellent baker.”

“Thanks, Mister Patton,” Roman smiled, a pink blush coating his cheeks. “Dad, we should make sure to send him home with some leftovers!” Logan nodded, taking another bite of his cupcake.

“Alright, it’s getting late, you two should both go finish up any homework and then go to bed,” He said, earning a groan from both of the twins. “No grumbling, boys.”

“But we have a guest,” Remus muttered, wiping the excess frosting off of his chin. “Can’t we stay up a little longer?”

“Now, kiddos, your dad is right. Homework is very important, and you can’t do well in school without a good night’s rest. I’ll be in the library tomorrow if you want to say hello,” Patton smiled. The boys both nodded, and Roman stood up, dashing up the stairs. Remus got up slower, hesitating, then he gave Patton a hug before running up after his twin.

“They seem to have taken quite a liking to you,” Logan mused, standing up and beginning to clear some of the plates. “Remus never hugs anyone, not even his friends.” Patton also stood, grabbing the plate with cupcakes. The two went into the kitchen and quietly put the food away, and Patton watched as Logan loaded the dishwasher.

“Can I ask… what happened to their parents?” Patton’s voice was hesitant, but Logan turned around, a firm look on his face.

“They were my students last year. Smart, good kids… and then their parents died in a car accident on the way to the school play.” Logan sighed, eyes trailing to the photo on the fridge. “They didn’t have any other family, no aunts or uncles, no grandparents, no close friends who could take them. I started fostering them, and after only a few days I put in the request to adopt them. And, a few weeks ago, they legally became my sons.”

“You’re a very kind person for doing that,” Patton said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “And… you don’t have a partner. You’re doing it all on your own.”

“The boys make it easy to love them and care for them,” Logan smiled. “When I found out they were going to be sent away, I just… something in me screamed no, you have to take them in, and so I did.” He crossed his arms, watching Patton carefully. “Remus was hesitant, at first, as expected. He didn’t have many friends before the accident, and after… a lot of the other kids avoided the two of them. They really only had each other.”

“And you,” Patton pointed out. “They’re very lucky to have someone who cares for them so deeply, Logan. My mom raised me on her own, and when I was 18 she passed away. I didn’t have anyone. You gave these boys a second chance, you know.”

“Is that why you went into children’s librarianship?” Logan asked. He sat down at the table and Patton sat next to him.

“I went into it because books were my saving grace as a kid. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but the characters in books… they were there for me,” Patton twisted his fingers together. “The librarians who helped me find those books quite literally saved my life. And I figured that there are kids now who need that same thing, and that I want to be that person for them.”

“That’s why I became a teacher,” Logan was still watching Patton’s face very carefully. Patton reached his hand out and took Logan’s in his. “Despite all of the things about teaching that are hard, helping kids figure out their passions and seeing them grow into awesome humans… it’s all worth it.” He squeezed Patton’s hand. 

Outside the kitchen, Remus and Roman were in their pajamas, peeking in. They shared a glance and went back upstairs quietly and into Roman’s room. Roman sat on the bed and Remus on the floor.

“You think Dad likes Mister Patton?” Remus asked hesitantly. Roman nodded. 

“I like him a lot, Re. Maybe… maybe he could be our other new dad.” Roman pulled a notebook out from under his bed along with a pen, and opened it. “We should figure out ways to get them together.”

“...what if Mister Patton doesn’t like Dad back? Or… what if he doesn’t want us around?” Remus’ voice was wavering. Roman shook his head. 

“I think they like each other. Or… they will, once we push them together.”

-

“Okay, so here’s the plan for today. You’re going to leave your bag behind after the book club meeting, so that Mister Patton has to call Dad,” Roman and Remus were huddled together outside the meeting room. Roman’s notebook was open and in their hands, a complicated timeline plotted out. “When he drops off the backpack, we’ll invite him to join us for dinner. Get them to drink some wine, maybe try to encourage a movie night…”

“This seems kind of obvious and cliche, Ro,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. “What if we invite Mister Patton to join us for our Sunday morning hike? Or… lock them in a closet together?”

“I like the hike idea, maybe we can suggest that at dinner,” Roman said, scribbling it into his notebook. “We should start slow and simple, and then work our way up to the more intense, more thorough methods.”

“What if the simple methods work really well, though? I want my ideas used, too,” Remus pouted, watching as the other kids filed into the meeting room. Patton approached the room, books and materials in tow. 

“Hey, it’s my two favorite twins!” He said cheerfully. “How are you boys doing today?” He stepped into the meeting room, the twins following close behind. The room slowly filled up, the meeting began, and at the end of the meeting, Remus “forgot” his bag. 

-

Logan was startled to feel his phone buzz in his pocket. He was making dinner, some baked potato soup. He pulled the phone out of his pocket to see an unknown number calling, but he picked up anyway. “This is Logan Crofters, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Logan! It’s Patton Hart from the library. It seems like Remus left his bag at the end of book club today,” The voice rang clearly from the other side. Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, I can come by to pick it up from the library later–”

“Oh, well we’ve already closed for the day, but I have the bag and I can drop it off at your house if it’s not an issue,” Patton responded. “It’s no problem, really, your house is on my route home.”

“If it’s not too much of a problem, then yeah, that would be really great, thank you,” Logan eyed the twins carefully as they stepped into the living room. “Thank you again.”

“See you soon!” Patton hung up the call, and Logan stuffed his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He crossed his arms, giving a firm look to the boys.

“What was that all about, Dad?” Roman asked, an innocent twinkle in his eyes. Remus sat down at the table, head down.

“It was Mister Patton. Apparently, Remus left his bag in the meeting room after book club today,” Logan said. He turned to stir the soup. “You’re not usually one to forget things, Remus. Is everything alright?”

“I must have just been… distracted. By our new friends,” Remus said, voice low. Logan raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked down.

“Right. Well, he’s going to come by and drop off the bag, so when there’s a knock at the door, you need to be sure to apologize to him for going out of his way to bring it,” Logan instructed. Roman hopped up on one of the counters.

“Can we invite him inside for dinner again?” He asked, twirling a strand of his hair between his fingers. “It’s been a few weeks since he joined us that one time.” Logan sighed again, but nodded.

“Only if he agrees, don’t beg him to join us this time, okay? He does have his own life,” Logan reminded him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and the twins went to go and answer it. Roman smiled cheerfully at Patton, who was holding Remus’ bag carefully. “Hey, kiddos. Here you go, Remus.” Remus took the bag gently.

“Thanks, Mister Patton. Sorry that you had to come out of your way to bring it to me,” He said, head down. Patton just smiled.

“It’s no problem at all,” He said. Roman noticed that the librarian peered a little bit around the two, and he wondered if he was looking for Logan. “Well, I should get going. Tell your dad hi for me, okay?”

“You don’t want to come in to say hi? Or you could join us for dinner, we’re making baked potato soup for dinner, and there are some brownies that I made last night,” Roman started, but Patton waved his hands in denial. 

“No, really, it’s okay kiddos, I have to work tomorrow and today was kind of a long day,” He smiled still, glancing down for half a second. Logan stepped out of the kitchen just as he was looking back up, and the librarian gulped. Logan’s tie was loose around his neck and the sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed up. His glasses sat on the top of his head.

“Boys, I told you to not beg him to stay if he didn’t want to,” Logan reprimanded them, then turned to look at Patton. “Sorry, Patton.”

“I-um, well… I suppose I could stay for a bit…” Patton’s face reddened and he looked down. “I was just going to have my lunch leftovers for dinner, anyways.” The twins shared a knowing glance.

“But you just said you had a long day and have to work tomorrow,” Remus muttered, raising an eyebrow. Patton stammered, his words not coming out clearly. 

“Well, come on in, Mister Patton!” Roman said cheerfully, stepping aside to allow the librarian to enter. They all went into the kitchen, and the boys each hopped up on the counter spaces, raising eyebrows. “So, you work on Saturdays, Mister Patton? What about Sundays?”

“The library is closed on Sundays, so that’s the day I usually get things done around my apartment, run errands, and the like. I don’t usually work on Saturdays, but we have an event tomorrow,” Patton explained, taking a seat at the table.

“You should join us on our Sunday morning hike! We hike every week, and it’s really nice,” Roman suggested. Logan turned away, tending to the soup again, making Remus raise an eyebrow. “Do you like hiking?”

“Oh gosh, I haven’t had the time to go on a hike… in a really long time,” Patton mused, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow sturdy on the table. “I used to hike a lot in my college days, but it’s not as fun on your own.”

“Then you should definitely join us,” Remus piped up from his spot on the counter. “It’s such a beautiful hike. We all leave our phones at home and just talk and look at nature. It’s pretty great, right Dad?”

“It is a really great hike,” Logan replied. “Soup’s done. Remus, would you get me some bowls, please?” Remus did so, settling the bowls down next to the stove. Logan began ladling the soup into each bowl, handing them to Remus to set on the table.

“Yeah, I’d love to join you, then.”

-

“Alright, here we are,” Logan said, turning off the car. The twins scrambled out of the backseat and outside, and Patton got out from the passenger’s seat, putting his sun hat on. Logan got out of the driver’s seat and locked the car, watching as the twins ran to start the hike. The two men followed close behind.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Patton said quietly, looking around, a smile on his face. Logan watched him carefully, the smell of sunscreen emanating from the librarian, his polo and shorts flowing gently in the wind. 

“Yeah…” Logan mused, turning his direction back to the twins. “Don’t go too far ahead, boys!” Roman continued walking but turned around, giving two thumbs up. Patton giggled a little bit, startling the teacher.

“They’re quite energetic kiddos,” He said, meeting Logan’s eyes. “But they’re really great.” Logan nodded but said nothing as they continued walking up the hill. Up ahead, the twins were nudging each other, kicking rocks, and laughing, and Logan smiled. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for them. Maybe they need more than just me.” Patton wrinkled his nose at this.

“Why wouldn’t you be enough for them? You’re such a great father, and it shows,” Patton said, twisting his hands together. “Sure, they had two parents before, but not every kid needs two parents. I had a single mom, and I turned out okay.”

“More than just okay,” Logan said under his breath, so that Patton couldn’t hear him. “I don’t know, it’s just… they’re very touchy, and I’m… not. They want to hug and snuggle, and I can’t provide that for them, at least not in a way where I’m also comfortable.” Patton looked over at Logan, who was wearing his button-up with the sleeves rolled up and workout pants, his eyes focused, facing forward, and he gulped a little. Logan also had a backpack with snacks, water, and a first aid kit, just in case.

“I think that they can understand that,” Patton responded, finally turning his gaze back to the path in front of them. Remus was giving Roman a piggyback ride up the hill, and the two men could hear the boys pretending to be a knight and a horse in battle. “They have each other to snuggle with, at least.”

“Do you have any siblings, Patton?” Logan asked, also watching the boys. “I’m an only child, but I have a few cousins who I was close to in childhood.”

“I’m also an only child, and I didn’t have any cousins, at least that I’m aware of,” Patton said, eyes drifting down. “My dad left when I was three, and I don’t know much about him. I’ve been trying to find him for years, for medical record purposes, but I can’t seem to track him down. I don’t think he wants to be found.”

“He’s a fool, then,” Logan sputtered out, then he covered his mouth. Patton raised an eyebrow, giggling softly. “Sorry. I know he’s your father. But anyone who doesn’t want anything to do with you is an idiot, and they don’t deserve to be in your life.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Logan. Thank you.” Patton said, and the two fell into a comfortable silence, climbing the hill steadily, the twins always in view. Logan, deep in thought, glanced back over at the librarian. 

“I mean it, Patton. You’re an incredible person, not just in your career but in how you are around the boys,” He smiled at Patton, who blushed and looked down. The librarian stumbled over a branch, falling forward, but he was caught by two strong hands. His hand still scraped the ground, and he winced. “Whoah! You alright?” Logan sat down on the ground, pulling Patton down too, and inspected his palms. “You’re a little scratched up.”

“I’m alright,” Patton said, looking down, face red. He couldn’t get the feeling of having Logan’s hands on him out of his mind. Logan shook his head, removing the backpack and digging in it for the first aid kit. He got some sanitizing wipes, and took Patton’s hands in his own, wiping off the pebbles and dirt. Logan was focused as he put a bandaid over the scratch on the librarian’s palm. The twins came bounding up to them.

“Mister Patton, are you okay?” Roman’s voice was concerned, and Remus got on the ground next to them watching carefully as Logan made sure everything was okay with Patton’s hands.

“I’m fine, boys, don’t worry, just a little stumble. If your dad hadn’t caught me…” Patton’s words trailed off, and Logan put the first aid kid back into the backpack. The teacher stood up first, and then held his hand out to help Patton up. He took it, and their eyes met, a blush covering both of their faces. Roman coughed a little, pulling Remus away, and the twins walked a ways away, but kept glancing back. Logan still hadn’t let go of Patton’s hand, though. “Um…” Patton looked down, his blush deepening. 

Logan hesitated, then decided that he needed to do or say something, because not saying or doing anything was eating him alive. He couldn’t hide it anymore. He didn’t want to hide it anymore. So he took Patton’s chin in his spare hand, tilted his face up, and kissed him gently. Patton gasped, but didn’t pull away; instead, he wrapped his arm around Logan’s neck, pulling him closer, their kiss deepening.

The twins were losing their minds, cheering and jumping for joy.

-

several months later...

Patton unlocked the door and stepped in. He closed the door quietly behind him, then peeked into the kitchen to see Roman stirring some cake batter and Remus chopping some fruit. He stayed quiet, going into the living room, where Logan was putting up a sign that read “Happy Birthday!”

“Hey,” Patton finally spoke, startling the teacher. Logan set the banner down, then approached the librarian, hugging him close and kissing him.

“Welcome home, babe,” He said, leaning down to kiss Patton again. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t need to do all of this, Lo…” Patton’s face was bright red as he glanced at all of the decorations and the pile of gifts on the coffee table. “But… thank you.” He leaned up to kiss Logan again, but was nearly knocked over by the force of two preteens joining the hug. 

“Patton!” The twins cheered in unison. “Happy birthday!” Patton laughed, hoping that Logan would be able to keep all of them from losing their balance.

“Thanks, boys,” Patton said. The hug finally broke, and the twins went back into the kitchen to finish the cake. The librarian took a breath and sat on the couch, watching Logan carefully. “Hey, Lo?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Logan asked, going to finish putting the banner up. He didn’t look back down at Patton until the banner was up, and when he saw his boyfriend next, the man was on one knee, holding a ring out. Logan gasped, then fell into a fit of laughter as he took a ring out of his pocket, getting on his knee in front of Patton.

“I guess that’s a ‘yes’, then?” Patton giggled, tears trickling down his cheeks. 

“I had a huge thing prepared,” Logan sighed. “The twins were going to play a song for you.” He scooted a little closer to Patton, then kissed him. “But yes, of course Patton. Yes.” A flash startled the two of them, and they glanced over to see the twins. Roman had his phone in his hand, taking pictures. Remus was pouting a little.

“Aw, man, he ruined the plan!” He said. Logan and Patton laughed, kissing again, then they stood up, sliding the rings onto each others’ fingers. The twins bounded towards them, and they fell into another group hug. “Does that mean we can call Patton ‘Papa’ now?”

“Of course, kiddo.” Patton smiled. Logan wiped a tear from his fiance’s cheek, and held his family close together.

“I love you,” He whispered into the librarian’s ear. Patton smiled, kissing him again.

“I love you too, Logan.”

[evqnbuckley]

Chapter 1: Hopeless

Okay so i wrote my thoughts on what I wanted the finale to be and this got out of hand...this is like almost if not 6k and i’m not even finished. If this is popular enough I’ll continue to post on here but I’m gonna continue to update on ao3! @princesscas

Sam awakens from his nightmare, disoriented. The visions of seeing himself grow old, having a family and dying feel all too real. The beginning of his nightmare is fading and somewhat fuzzy but he remembers Dean making an appearance. He remembers seeing himself fight alongside his brother, killing some vampires, a normal hunt. Then his memory clears and the image of his brother impaled against a wooden pole catches his breath.

He wipes a hand across his face, trying to erase the images of Dean saying goodbye, of Dean's hand dropping as he took his last breath, and the image of lighting his own brother's pyre.

Sam pulls the covers off and walks toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The bunker is quiet, peaceful even. He still hasn't gotten used to calling it home, not really. The thing about a home is, four walls don't constitute it. Family is similar. It's not based on who you're related to but who loves you and has your back. Family, a home, whatever they are things you build around you. He had learned that long ago.

The wooden floors creak as he walks through the library. The silence is deafening yet comforting. It's a reminder that, for once, the world isn't ending. The linoleum sends shivers down his spine as he enters the kitchen. Sam replays the nightmare in his head while he downs a glass of water from the sink. The images slowly become distorted and misplaced in his memory. He eventually cannot picture it in his mind.

Sighing, Sam places the glass in the sink and walks back to his room. His feet make a pit-pat noise, approaching the hallway. Dean's door is cracked open slightly with faint light seeping through. Sam turns toward the door and peers in. His face softens, taking in the scene. Dean is cuddling a pillow adorned with a worn, rough, blue pillow case. The light emits from a lone lamp on his desk. Some type of paper for a mechanic position sits atop a few books from the library. Sam eyes the paperwork, puzzled. Dean never told me he got a job. Underneath, one of the books has a bookmark in three different places. There are a few crumpled up papers on and around the floor. Sam picks one up and unravels it.

Cas I know you're in the empty and you probably can't hear me….why did you do it? Why didn't you tell me about the deal before? I know I messed up and Billie was about to kill us both but….we could have died together found another way.

Why didn't you tell me?

Sam picks up another one. This time it's the one closest to the trash can. The markings are a bit sharper than the paper before. Almost more angry. It appears some words are smudged but still legible.

I try to move on and put on a brave face for Sammy. He needs to know now that Chuck is gone we can move on. We have to. I have tried to find a way to bring you back Cas. None of the books are fucking useful. I can't read Enochian. I don't even know if Enochian text is the key to saving you. I've tried contacting Rowena but i think she's busy. I'm at my wits end. I haven't gotten much sleep to be honest. As I'm writing this I have looked through 28 books all based on portals to other dimensions, hell, sacrificial rituals and reverse rituals. Even Astral projecting. I don't know what to do….

Sam swallows past the dry lump caught in his throat. He glances at Dean, making sure he's still asleep. Dean briefly shifts, pulling the pillow closer. Sam relaxes and picks up one more crumpled up paper. This one appears fresh, as if Dean wrote it tonight.

I tried praying to the angels. They didn't listen. No one is listening. Jack isn't even listening. He took himself out of the story, I know but this is you I'm talking about. How can he just sit by while you're suffering. I guess I'm on my own.

Why did you say that now?

The last sentence confuses Sam. He burrows his eyebrows as he studies the three entries. Dean is searching for a way to save Cas. To bring him back. And he didn't tell me? Sam quietly crunches the papers back up and places them back where he found them. Dean doesn't move. As Sam switches the lamp off, he feels the heaviness of the dark engulf him. I have to talk to Dean tomorrow.

Dean rolls over as the aroma of burnt bacon fills his room. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he sits up. Realizing that Sam is about to burn the bunker down, he slips on his robe and jogs to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Well good morning to you too," Sam replies a bit offended. He's flipping bacon as Dean yanks the tongs out of his grip. "What- I am making breakfast. Can I not make breakfast?"

"I don't know what you think you're making but it definitely, definitely ain't breakfast," Dean smarts. He trashes the burnt bacon and starts a new batch. "Sit. No, why don't you make some coffee."

"Already did. Here ya go," Sam slides Dean's mug across the island, "your highness," Sam says under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, me too," Sam perks up. "I think I found something that screams our kinda thing. We should head there after we eat breakfast. It's not too long of a drive." Dean finishes as he places the cooked bacon on some paper towels and grins from ear to ear. Sam just watches as his brother starts on some scrambled eggs. This might be more challenging than I had hoped.  

"So when you said our sorta thing you meant pie?"

"I meant pie," Dean confirms with a satisfied smirk. "Now, I'm gonna go eat me some of that pie."

"Didn't we-Dean we just had breakfa- nevermind," Sam gives in and follows Dean through the crowd.

Several families are participating in the pie fest. Some are gearing up to find out who can eat the most pie, who makes the best pumpkin pie, and some are just making whip cream pies and pieing each other. Sam observes those around him with a small smile. A life he desperately wants someday but knows he can't have. Or can I?

Dean approaches Sam with a big box and almost runs into some bystander. "Hey, watch it."

"What is that?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"I couldn't pick just one! Come on, Sammy we're at a pie fest. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot."

Dean ponders his answer and let's it slide. He picks up one of the pies and offers it to his brother. Sam declines. "Dude, you gotta at least try it."

"No, really I'm good."

"Alright, what is it? What's got you so down today?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Sam replies.

"No, see I know my baby brother. So I know that is your sad Sam face. Fess up, what's wrong?"

"I'm not-" Sam begins, but Dean gives him a look.

"I don't know. I'm just thinking about Cas, about Jack."

Dean's expression falls. He looks down and places the pie back in its spot. "Yea me too. I think about them too. Every day. But we have to move on, Sam. Live our lives. Or else that sacrifice, it will all be for nothing," Dean looks at Sam. "So help me finish this pie."

Dean reaches down for the same pie again but his face is met with a cold surface. Sam smothers the pumpkin pie in Dean's face, laughing. "You know what, I do feel better!"

Sam shakes his hand to free the whip cream, watching Dean rake the remainder of the pie off his chin with his fork. Suddenly, Sam's temples begin pulsing painfully and he has an immense sense of deja vu. His smile falters and he feels out of place. Almost, as if he's reliving this moment. It's similar to the feeling he had this morning.

"Hey, Sam. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He's not honestly sure if everything is okay.

Sam texts Eileen and tells her he wants to make up for the date they missed months ago. She agrees it has been too long and tonight would work for her. Sam doesn't want to make promises, as the day is still young, but they plan for their date tonight at 7. Dean teases Sam about it even though the two are already a couple. Saying things like, "don't do anything I wouldn't do" or "make sure you use protection." Sam just sighs and shakes his head.

It's 6:35 pm and nothing has come across the wire. Social media is quiet, so Sam texts Eileen that the date is a go. She replies five minutes later, ready to go and excited to see Sam. Dean offers to let Sam take the Impala out to pick Eileen up. For once in a long time, Sam is excited. When he reaches the garage door, Sam glances back at his brother and sees him nursing a brand new whiskey bottle. Sam frowns at the sight. Dean deserves to feel excited, to be happy. Sam will go on this date with Eileen, tell her about Cas, and they will come back to help Dean. Help Dean get his best friend back. Our best friend back .

Dean waves his brother off and slumps into the chair in the library. It's not very comfortable. In fact, the wooden back is digging into his thoracic spine and causing some pain. But it's better than the alternative. The alternative of thinking about what he's lost, who he's lost, and how he lost them. That pain will never go away. Right now I can focus on this acute pain and center my thoughts on it. Keep myself from sinking into the dark hole of nothing I've been trying to climb out of since I lost - since I lost

Dean finishes the whiskey bottle before Sam gets home and he's still not drunk enough. He rises from the chair and walks to the liquor cart. All the bottles are half empty or nothing but drops of whiskey, gathering at the bottom of the glass. He picks up one empty glass bottle and stares at it for several moments. His vision becomes distorted from the small glass textures, his left ear begins to ring from the silence as he falls into a trance like state. Then, a glint of sapphire reflects in the textured glass. It catches his eye; Dean swallows. Suddenly, he's thinking of Castiel. Cas. He's thinking of "I love you's" and "Goodbye, Dean" and black goo. He's thinking of how the image of his best friend disappearing into a black mass of nothing is seared in his memory forever. He's thinking of how he didn't get to say goodbye, or anything really, and now he never will.

He grimaces at the bottle, squeezes the neck so hard his knuckles blanche, and throws it across the room, into the kitchen. It lands by the island, shattering to pieces, with a deafening crash. Dean feels his eyes burning and hot tears gathering at the corners. Before he realizes, Dean is grabbing all the glass bottles and throwing them into the kitchen. In his fit of rage, Dean throws one bottle too high and it shatters against the side of the kitchen table. Glass spreads across the floor. He doesn't even register the intensity of the mess until one bottle knocks off another, shattering it at his feet. He stops throwing the bottles, breaking from his trance.

"I tried everything! I can't save you! There's nothing left! How could you do this to me, you son of a bitch," Dean cries. He places his hands on either side of his head, thinking. "Jack! How can you just leave us? We need you. Cas needs you! Fuck this all powerful, all knowing God bullshit. We're family!" Dean tosses the cart over. "Isn't that enough?" He pauses and glances around for a moment. Nothing. "Dammit, Jack. Why won't you answer my prayers? I need some help!" He cries out and slowly sits down. "I can't do this on my own," he whispers between his sniffles. He begs over and over again please please please in his head for a few moments. But he's met with silence like every other time. Dean accepts this and wipes his tears away, picks the cart up, grabs the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and picks up his mess. He can't have Sam see what a hypocrite he truly has become.

Dean cuts himself on a few lone pieces of glass, but it's nothing he can't handle. In fact, for a brief moment, the pain gives him something to focus on. He mindlessly watches the crimson slowly drain down the sink as he holds his palm under the running water. He wonders what it feels like to float down the water, through the pipes, through the darkness, into nothing. What is wrong with me? But that's where Cas is right now. A bunch of nothing. Dean grabs a hand towel and wraps it around his left hand before returning to the broom. The kitchen is just about clean. Within about 5 minutes, all the glass and spilled whiskey is gone. Almost as if it never happened. Dean places the broom and dustpan back in the corner and trudges through the hallways.

There is a secret stash of whiskey in his man cave that Dean hid for emergencies. And this constitutes an emergency. He walks to the wall, removes a Star Wars poster from the fifth movie, and pulls out a few bricks, revealing the beautiful brown bottle of Jack Daniel's. Not his favorite but Dean was in a rush when he bought it a couple of weeks ago before they defeated Chuck just in case anything went sideways. Also, in case Sam found his stash at least it wouldn't be his good whiskey. Popping the cap off, Dean takes a long swig as he stumbles toward the couch. Sam should be home soon. I'll be done with this bottle by then and be able to forget anything blue for a while. Except all he dreams of is blue.

Bright blue swirls fill his dreams as he drifts off. He feels immense warmth as the blue wraps around him like a large ribbon and he floats above the grass. The ribbon caresses Dean like a soft, silk cloud, holding him in place. A slight breeze causes the ribbon to ripple in harmony and alternate between hues of blue. The colors circulate between indigo to azure to cobalt to cerulean to teal and finally midnight blue effortlessly. Dean sees dark angels wings above and feels safe. He flies higher as the ribbon ascends toward the wings. Flashes of cerulean eyes skip by, sad and yearning, before Dean is pulled down into dark azure ocean water by the wings. The ribbon of blue dissolves into nothing. Dean feels alone. In dreams, people don't usually have their sense of smell, but Dean swears he smells hints of sandalwood, a campfire, and honey. Then, he sees Castiel materialize before him with his wings extended, long and wide. Beautiful. They're untouched with no sign of rebellion or impurities. Just as Dean had first seen them. Before he met me. Before he rebelled and lost everything for me. I cursed you, Cas. Green eyes lock with blue and Castiel smiles at Dean. Then suddenly, Castiel's wings begin to dissipate and burn away. He appears to scream in pain. Dean reaches out just as soon as the water darkens and swarms around Castiel. He thrashes against the thick water but cannot break free. Dean is frozen in the water and at once cannot breathe. He screams out to Castiel but no sound comes out. He, instead, inhales the water. Castiel disappears within the black, thick water just as soon as he appears. He's gone.

Dean's eyes slowly open. This is a recurring nightmare he's had since Castiel sacrificed himself. Since he left. Dean had hoped the alcohol would impair his subconscious enough to avoid the nightmare. Beer hasn't been strong enough, nor tequila, or vodka. Whiskey is his last resort and apparently it does jack-shit. I need something stronger, if I am to get any sleep. Although the whiskey does not keep the nightmares at bay it does keep him numb. That is enough to continue drinking. He reaches for the bottle and misses. I may be seeing double. After a few tries, Dean successfully retrieves the bottle and downs the remaining third of the whiskey. His head feels heavy and his chest feels hot. Dean can feel his fingers tingling and toes numbing against his socks. This is the sweet spot of feeling drunk, he thinks.

Sam returns from his date, unnoticed, and walks into the room, seeing Dean spread out on the couch. He eyes the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table and sighs. Sam remembers the other whiskey bottle left on the library table. The same one Dean had been nursing before Sam left. Dean is on a bender again. Eileen shuffles up next to Sam and glances at the couch. She looks at Sam with a sad look. At dinner, he filled her in with everything he knows about Castiel and his sacrifice for Dean. But Eileen didn't realize it would affect Dean this badly. She walks over to Dean and pulls the blanket from on top of the couch and covers Dean. He's passed out again and is slightly twitching. His eyes are racing back and forth.

"We will regroup tomorrow and discuss Plan SOC," Sam whispers while signing.

"I'm still not sure about the code word," Eileen signs with a grimace.

"We'll work on it," he signs with a shrug.

The next morning Dean wakes to his Jack Daniel's replaced with three ibuprofen pills and a glass of water. Grateful, he slowly takes them one at a time due to the agonizing headache. Usually he doesn't have headaches or hangovers but the nightmares don't give him much rest. He really isn't able to sleep off the alcohol. Pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to push back the headache, Dean sighs with exhaustion. He doesn't even know what time it is. His watch reads 4:32 but Dean is unsure if it's AM or PM.

Suddenly, he feels his stomach growl and Dean realizes he hasn't eaten since about noon today. Yesterday? He sloppily rises up and makes his wake toward the kitchen. Nothing really sounds appetizing except for some string cheese. Only, they don't have string cheese. Of course. So, Dean settles for the two day old pepperoni pizza in the fridge. Not too bad, and he will never say no to pizza. Dean isn't sure how long he was passed out but the effects of the whiskey have certainly worn down a bit. He can't walk a straight line, but his vision is more clear. He clumsily carries the pizza box over to the library table next to his laptop and sits it down. Quietly, he pulls the chair out and takes a seat. The hunter in him wants to make sure everything is quiet out in the world. The clock on his laptop confirms its 4:38 AM.

A few clicks and searches show there's a local mysterious killing. Our kinda thing. Dean smiles, knowing that this case will help keep his mind busy. And he will be able to save someone. At least this way he will feel like his life was worth saving. Ironic. I feel like I've said that before. Why do people feel the need to jump at any chance to save me? I don't deserve saving. Dad sold his soul for me and now Cas. I don't deserve it. He shakes his head and munches down on cold pizza in silence.

Dean finishes the last three slices of pizza, underestimating how hungry he had been. He watches a few dumb YouTube videos for a while, to keep his mind off things, waiting for Sam to wake up. Dean is tempted to grab a beer from the fridge but decides against it. He needs to be as sober as possible for the hunt, for Sam. If Dean were to go alone, he would not care. Not at this moment anyway.

Dean has realized his mood swings are ridiculous lately. At one moment, he's super depressed and doesn't care about anything. He honestly doesn't care if he lives or dies.  The next moment he can't wait to see what life has to offer. It's as if his brain doesn't know how to comprehend what Castiel's sacrifice means to him. His thoughts can become so tangled and incoherent Dean doesn't know how to act - what to say. That's why he started writing down some of his thoughts, and then thought how much of girl that made him and crumpled the papers up. Right now, he can really use a moment to write down his thoughts.

He grabs the notepad and pen on the table and scribbles away. I hate this feeling. What am I supposed to feel? Anger? Sadness? Relief? Emptiness? Frustration? All of the above? Others? You left me with so many unanswered questions and I left you with nothing in return. How am I supposed to go on knowing this? Cas, how can I go minute to minute, hour to hour, knowing what I know now? I fucked up. I had a chance to say what I've been wanting to say for a while and I couldn't. I didn't. Did you even know? I mean do I even fucking know? I can't even hate you to make myself feel better. I can't bring myself to say I hate you for doing this to me. Because I could never hate you. The paper becomes wet with a few tear drops. I will find you, Cas. Just wait for me.

Dean places the pen next to the notepad after a moment. He wipes his nose with his flannel sleeve. Not many tears fell but his nose is running pretty good. Out of all of his thought entries, this one felt the most cathartic. He sometimes pretends that Castiel can hear him read the words to himself or even hear him as Dean writes the words. Just as Castiel heard his prayer in Purgatory. But he doesn't. He won't. The empty is a dark and torturous place. My prayer and words will be the last things he'd focus on.

Dean lays his head on the table from exhaustion, but doesn't shut his eyes. He won't risk falling asleep. Instead, he focuses on counting the books on each shelf to his right. Then, once he's done with those he counts the ones on his left. Dean notices some of these books, he nor Sam even use. He doesn't know half of the content in these books. Unfortunately, Dean underestimated how counting can cause drowsiness no matter the subject at play. His eyes begin to drift when Sam walks in with loud footsteps.

Yawning, Sam says, "What are you doing in here? You should be in bed."

Dean jerks up, shaking his head from thoughts of sleep. "I found us a case," he replies.

"Mhm. Is that all you were looking for during the early morning?" Sam asks, eyeing the covered notepad. Dean notices and quickly turns it over.

"Sam," he warns. "mind your business."

"Good morning," Eileen joins the boys in the library.

Dean isn't too surprised to see her here but is happy for Sam nonetheless. "Morning, Eileen. I hope sasquatch here didn't take up the whole bed."

Eileen blushes and laughs at Dean. "I don't kiss and tell," she winks at Sam as she kisses him on the cheek. "Who wants breakfast?"

"Yes, please!" Sam signs.

Sam joins Dean at the table and a long beat passes between them. Sounds in the kitchen of water running, the clinking of plates, and banging of pans fill the silence instead. Dean repositions himself in the chair, still not making eye contact with Sam. Sam, however, is studying Dean. He appears disheveled, bags under his eyes, day old stubble and crust around his lips from dried whiskey. He's a wreck.

"So this case-" "We need to talk-" They start simultaneously.

Dean glances up for the first time. "You first."

"I know about Cas." Dean's eyes widen slightly. "At least I know there's more to the story. You didn't tell me everything and I know whatever happened is eating away at you." Dean gestures to dismiss Sam. "Dean, I know you. I can see it. I know when you get like this it's because of something close to you." Sam pauses. "I also read some of your crumpled up papers." A dark look crosses Dean's face. Almost like he wants to punch Sam.

"You did what?" Dean says.

Sam continues, ignoring Dean's comment. "I know you're trying to bring Cas back. I want to help," Sam offers.

Dean sighs, looking to the side. He knows the many dead ends and how disappointing it is trying to save Cas. He doesn't want to subject his brother to the very same thing. "It's no use, Sam. Everything is a dead end. I've tried everything I can think of. Cas is gone," Dean resigns, defeated. "All we can do now is save people, hunt things, and live our lives. It's what Cas would want. It's what everyone, who we have lost, would want."

"Dean," Sam starts. "You're giving up way too easily. There is always another way. Don't you always say that?" Dean doesn't respond. "I know how it may seem hopeless but we have options. We have the resources to continue the search to save him. You can't give up now, Dean. This is Cas."

"I've tried everything I can think of, Sam. Everything! Praying, research, calling Rowena. She doesn't answer. Jack is off grid. I've tried! There's nothing. He's gone!" Dean's voice cracks. He swallows down the pain. "We have to accept that. And however I deal with it is my business. So don't give me those judgy eyes like you are now." Dean says pointedly.

"But, Dean-"

"I said no Sam."

Dean gets up, signaling he's done with this conversation and takes the notepad with him. He doesn't even acknowledge Eileen as she brings breakfast to the library. "The case is pulled up on my laptop. I'm going to get ready." Dean turns the corner and is gone before Sam can reply.

Eileen's face falls as she holds a plate of french toast, bacon, sausage, and lots of syrup. Then one plate of regular scrambled eggs with toast for Sam. She sits the plates on the table and watches Dean leave. "Is he not hungry? I made his favorite." She says.  

"It's not that, he's dealing with some, he's just-" Sam doesn't seem to know how to finish his sentence, or fully explain his brother's behavior.

"Cas?" Eileen offers. Sam nods.

Sam reads the case on Dean's laptop and begins to feel nauseated. He has a bad feeling. He, again, has a sense of deja vu. Two days in a row, it can't be a coincidence. It's like there is an itch at the back of his brain, crawling to the surface, wanting to show him something. He feels a headache come on and the pain is similar to when he used to get visions as a young adult. The pain grows stronger as the itch continues, pulling toward his frontal lobe.

Then, a flash of images of Sam and Dean dressed in their normal FBI threads quickly blink by. Another image of them at an abandoned barn fighting some strange, masked creatures. Sam recognizes the mask from Dad's journal. And then a burst of images, showing Sam and Dean fighting these creatures appear. They're vampires! The brothers are winning, slicing the vamp's heads off one after another. The last image shows Dean pushed against something sharp and… Oh no, Dean Sam thinks.

He grabs his head and shakes the images away. Groaning in pain, he sees he's on the floor. He must have fallen while the vision took over. Eileen is at his side, freaked out. She's signing, "Are you okay?" over and over again.

Slowly, Sam regains his thoughts and tells Eileen he's okay. Dean rushes by Sam's side by this point after hearing the loud thud from his fall. Dean places his hand on Sam's shoulder, in concern.

"Dude, what the hell happened? Say something. You alright?" Dean glances over Sam, and around the bunker, checking for any intruders.

"Yea, yea. I'm fine. I feel like I just got hit by a freight train. Like how my visions used to feel." He pauses. "I actually think I just had a vision." Sam looks at Dean with bewilderment and Dean returns the look.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say you had a vision?"

"Yea." Sam breathes.

"You haven't had one of those since you were like in your twenties and yellow eyes was after you. Why the fuck now?"

"I-I don't know. I thought it was a nightmare, but last night the same images played in my mind. I went all day yesterday feeling a sense of deja vu. The pie fest, reading the case, even eating breakfast."

All three are silent for quite a while. Their breakfast grows cold but no one pays it any mind. "What if it's a sign?" Eileen questions.

"Like from God, uh, Jack?" Sam offers.

Dean huffs in response. He knows damn good and well Jack is staying out of everyone's business. There isn't any possibility Jack is interfering. "I doubt it."

"It's possible," says Sam. "Maybe he has taken himself out of the narrative, but what if he's helping us still by guiding us through this vision?"

"He hasn't answered any of my damn prayers since two months ago. Why would he start now?"

"I don't know, change of heart?" Sam offers, half-heartedly.

Dean stands and laughs with a bitter shake of his head. "You honestly believe that? Come on, Sam. The kid has a new sense of almighty. We, you, me and Cas, we are now left in the dust. He said so himself. You're just having some freak migraine."

Sam stands, with Eileen in tow. She helps him up by the arm. "You're wrong. I know he's not like Chuck, and stays away, but he still cares. I know he sent me this vision to help us. All of us," Sam stares at Dean's glare of hopelessness. "I have faith, Dean."

"How can you be so sure? How can you be so positive that this is from Jack and he's trying to help us? Doesn't make a lot of sense that out of all the times I've asked for his help, to save Cas, or help me bring him back, he's now warning you of an ordinary hunt?" Dean says frustrated.

"Because in this hunt you die, Dean," Sam blurts out. Dean stays quiet. "You die and I have to go on without you. You leave me and I have to live a life without my brother."

Dean's gaze falls to the floor. He's quiet for a moment, processing this information. "You live a happy life?" He barely says.

"What?"

"After I die, do you go on having the whole white picket fence, apple pie life with the 2.5 kids?" Dean clarifies, calmly.

Sam searches Dean's face for any kind of sign of self actualization or will to live. "Why does it matter? I can still strive for that with you alive. We both can," he adds.

Dean smiles, that tired, sad smile. "No, Sammy. You and I both know as long as I'm alive you will always be in this life." He looks at Eileen. "You two will never have a chance at a happy, normal life with me around. Besides, hunting is what I do. There is nothing else for me. Not anymore.”

"That's not true," Eileen says, with tears in her eyes. She reaches out and places her hand on Dean's cheek, pleading for him to understand how wrong he is.

"It is. I'm the one that dragged you back into this life, Sam. I'm the only one keeping you here. Let me give you an out."

"Stop. Okay just stop. We are not going on this hunt. If you want to be suicidal, fine, but I'm keeping you out of danger. You are always so quick to jump in front of a gun or blade. Do you still care that little about yourself, Dean?" Sam searches his brother's eyes. "What about that job paperwork on your desk? You must have cared at some point. Wanted to live!" Dean is quiet. Sam sighs. "Cas wouldn't want you to die. He died to save you, remember? So, what I am going to do is bring Cas back. Are you going to help me?"

Dean ponders Sam's offer for a moment. "What about the people that will die, if we don't save them?"

"I'll call some hunters and give them a heads up on what to look out for when they go there. It'll be taken care of," Sam reassures.

Dean glances between Eileen and Sam. Fiddling with a loose string on the end of his flannel sleeve, he sighs. On one hand, he'd love to see Castiel again. He'd do anything- to hug him and tell him all the things he didn't get to say. But on the other hand, he's so tired. So very tired. There are no leads. And he's lost all faith in his search to save Castiel.

"Dean?" Sam starts.

"Okay. Let's bring Cas home."

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Beauty and the Witch - Chapter Five

x x x x

Summary:  Deep in the dark forest, there’s a castle filled with magic and mystery, where no one would ever go if they could help it. But an adventurer runs from nothing, and she might come to regret it.

Sketchbook BatB AU for reasons

Notes:  I had been hoping that when season 2 came around, I would have been at the end of this fic. But then I got the idea for Love and Honour and had to write it immediately, and then I had the idea for that Halloween countdown and had to write all those fics AND THEN November came and I had to focus on my finals... so I guess I’ll take a halfway mark *throws confetti because somehow we’re already in the middle of this fic*

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5)

Johanna stood at the top of the staircase to the forbidden wing, thinking she surely must have lost her mind. After the events of the night before, she’d been left with no hopes for an escape from her captivity, and when she’d gone to bed her heart had been aching with longing for her daughter even if she’d just come out of a frantic series of happenings. And yet, though her heart squeezed because of the distance between her and all that she loved, her mind seemed much closer.

All through the night and into the next morning, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Victoria had told her. There was a woman behind the monster, after all, even if it was a coarse, sarcastic one, and no person should be forced to live in the state of solitude that seemed to be hers. She had her servants, but Johanna had yet to see any of them show signs of a deeper bond with her.

Granted, the witch had been ready to doom her, and worse, her daughter, to such a life, but keeping her lowest points in the forefront of her mind would do Johanna no good if she wished to change the direction of her relationship with her captor. And surely she must be out of her senses, for she really was hoping to attempt to get to know her better. She couldn’t really tell why, but it felt wrong to let her be lonely, not because she’d saved her or because Johanna thought about befriending her in order to escape, but only because something in her wanted to get to know the beast.

No, not the beast, she told herself. Maven.

Victoria wheeled past her, lifting one eyebrow at seeing the woman there. They’d already seen each other that morning, when Johanna had gone down to the kitchens to eat breakfast, and now she assumed the servant had been with Maven to deliver her her meal.

“I’m here to check on her burns.” Johanna explained as she saw Victoria’s confusion. “See if they’re healing well and all.”

The teapot hummed in acknowledgment and continued her path back down to the kitchens, and Johanna still heard the cluttering sound of ceramic against wood as Victoria’s cart climbed down the stairs behind her when she walked through the corridor leading to the witch’s room. No natural sunlight streamed into that part of the castle, but it was still brighter than it had been at night. Once again, her eyes couldn’t help but be caught by the paintings on the wall, disheartened by the dreadful state they were in. She was sure she’d be able to restore at least some of their original glory if she could get her hands on them. Well, she thought, she might as well do so. It was not like she was going anywhere in a hurry.

Behind the red curtain, she found Maven sitting on her bed, her back propped up on pillows and her food tray to the side as she read a book. Johanna startled when she realized what the witch was doing, and ran forward to try and grab it before she got hurt. The witch was quicker, though, and noticed Johanna’s presence just in time to hold the book out of her reach.

“Good morning to you as well.”

“What are you doing?” Johanna gasped, one knee on the edge on the bed and her body leaning forward across Maven’s lap as she tried to take the object. “You’ll burn yourself even more.”

Though the woman couldn’t see it, Maven rolled her eyes. “Ah, because I’m so eager to harm myself, aren’t I?”

Finally giving up, Johanna went back to standing by the side of the bed and crossed her arms with her eyes staring daggers at the witch.

“That’s what it seems like! Why are you holding that? And why isn’t it…” Johanna inhaled, looking between Maven’s hand and her lifted eyebrows. “Why isn’t it burning you?”

The witch sat back once more when she realized Johanna had come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t burning her, figuring that the woman’s worry was due to not wanting to have to tend to her wounds once more, and closed the book on her belly. She’d read it so many times she would be able to find the spot she’d been at easily.

“There are some books that don’t burn me. They are very few, but they exist.”

Maven pointed to the shelf on the wall in front of the bed, the one with the perfectly organized books that had called her attention when she saw the room for the first time. They really were very few, Johanna thought she couldn’t even count ten.

“I think it was another trick of the Enchantress's. They were all in this room, probably to give me some sort of hope. They’re not exactly the sort of thing I want to read though. They’re all fables about selflessness and compassion. The old hag sure does have some humor.”

Johanna tilted her head at the witch when she laughed mirthlessly upon finishing speaking. There had to be more to this story than she knew, but Johanna didn’t think that was the time to ask for an explanation.

“I see.” She said. “Well, how are you feeling? I came here to take a look at your burns. Did you begin feeling any worse pains or just an itch?”

Taken aback, Maven blinked. “Did Victoria ask you to come here?”

“No, she didn’t.” Taking out the objects she’d brought on her pocket and putting them on the bed, Johanna answered. “Thought we might need to call for her. I wanted to clean your wounds again, is she the easiest way to get water?”

The witch shook her head negatively and pointed to the washing chamber. “There’s a bucket of water there. Even when you take some water out, it fills itself again.”

“Oh!” Taking the rags she’d found in the kitchen and brought with her to the chamber, Johanna hummed in delight when she saw that indeed even the small amount of water she’d taken out to wet the cloths came back instantly. “I suppose living in an enchanted castle has its perks.”

Not understanding why she’d there of her own volition, Maven watched Johanna with curiosity as she came closer again.

“Alright, now turn to your belly. The burns in your back are worse, so I need to see them first.”

Figuring she’d lose nothing by doing what she was told, Maven adjusted her pillows so that she could lie with her back and winds facing up, and Johanna sat down on the edge of the bed by her side. When the woman undid the bandages, she felt her skin uncomfortably sensitive, both because of the burn and because of her being unused to physical contact of any kind, but she did her best to stay put. Better not to show weakness in front of the prisoner.

“I won’t lie to you, these aren’t looking too good.” Johanna cooed in a soft tone to try and make the witch remain calm. “But it’s only been a couple of hours. I’ve never taken care of magical wounds before, but if they are anything like natural ones they should begin healing soon. Alright, I’m going to start cleaning them now.”

That warning was all the preparation she had before the cold, wet cloth touched her tender skin, and she twitched at the first contact. Johanna pretended not to notice.

“If we take good care of them they won’t be a bother for much longer.” She said as she pressed the rags gently to the burns, hoping her voice and reassurances would stop the witch from becoming too stressed with the situation. “My Hilda had some very similar ones a while ago. Tried to jump over the Beltane bonfire because some kids had dared her to, you see. But she got fine and so will you.”

Though she had barely been paying attention to what Johanna was saying, because after all these years she was quite sure there were few things that could significantly harm this beast form of her curse, her attention was caught when the child was mentioned. It felt odd to hear her being talked about so casually, as if Johanna had just walked in to see to her wounds and for a cup of tea before returning to her daughter, and both of them could tell the atmosphere of the room had become awkward with the comment.

“Speaking of your family.” Maven began, even knowing she was being insensitive. “Should I expect any daring attempts at rescue from your husband?”

Rather than huffing or slapping her for reminding her of the beloved she’d had to leave behind like Maven had expected, Johanna exhaled sharply, almost a chuckle.

“Oh, I don’t have a husband, so it won’t be a problem.”

“You think the father will be fine with this situation, then?” The beast asked after considering if the question was or not too rude, and deciding it didn’t matter. It happened often enough that women would have children without being married, Johanna didn’t need to suffer any prejudice at the castle on top of what she certainly must have gone through in her village.

“I don’t think you understood this.” This time, there was more open humor in her voice. “There is no father, or any man with a similar function. Hilda was adopted. I found her when she was a little baby.”

It was good that the position in which Maven needed to stay for Johanna to look at her wounds hid her face in the pillows, because she was certain she was blushing with embarrassment at that moment. Last thing she needed was to look like a fool in front of the woman.

“It was wrong of me to assume. I had just figured she was… well, truly yours because of how fiercely you are willing to protect her.”

“Hey, she is truly mine!”Johanna stopped cleaning the wounds to put her hands on her waist. “I raised her, took care of her and loved her. That’s what a mother does.”

“Of course, but not everyone is willing to do so much for people who don’t share their blood. I hadn’t meant to offend.”

Maven was not one to apologize with frequency, but she could see she’d touched a subject she shouldn’t have. If there was anything she knew about the newest member of her castle, it was how much her daughter meant to her. If she didn’t, Johanna wouldn’t be there at all.

“Well, they should.” Johanna huffed as she resumed her previous task. “Family is family, and if anything the fact that you found it just makes it more special. I don’t know who taught you otherwise, but they were wrong.”

Johanna might not know, but Maven did, and she was reasonably sure she had not been family to the woman who had taken her in, and the sting she felt when Johanna cleaned a particularly nasty burn seemed to prove her point. But then again, the woman who had abandoned her for fear of having a witch in her house, even if that witch was her daughter, hadn’t been her family either.

Running a hand through the wild combination of plumes and hair strands on her temple, the witch tried to brush those thoughts away.

“What do you do for a living? Raising a daughter by yourself is no easy task, I imagine.”

“I am an artist.” Johanna smiled. “Most of my money I’d get from doing coal drawings of things people asked me to. But what I really love is painting. Unfortunately, paint and canvases can get pretty expensive, and it’s not like I’d get many buyers in my town, at least. I only manage to do a few each year, and I sell them at the annual spring fair in Paris. Hilda loves visiting the city. The money I get is just enough to pay for the trip and for more supplies, but it’s worth it. She needs to see the world beyond that miniscule village.”

“That’s a very honourable job.” Maven said, ignoring the parts about her daughter lest she add insult to the injury. “You must be very good to be able to make a living out of it.”

Johanna’s hair covered her face as she set aside the cloth to reach for the salve. Maven could only see a small smile on her face. “Thank you. Most people think it’s a useless job, but it really is what I love doing.”

“How can it be useless when it adds beauty to the world?”

Right before applying the salve to the burns, the woman smiled more directly at her. “I think so too.”

They didn’t talk further as Johanna finished tending to the wounds and wrapping them up again. Maven politely thanked her when she was done, but when she had turned away to head back to her own room, she noticed the witch had picked up the book she’d been reading before again, continuing to ignore her food.

“You said you don’t really like them.” Johanna said from the doorway. “Why do you keep reading?”

Maven looked surprised when she looked up from her book to the woman again, having expected her to already be gone.

“I have nothing else to read.” She answered slowly, afraid the first explanation hadn’t been clear since Johanna was asking her again.

“Well, yes, but can’t you do other things?”

Though Johanna hadn’t meant it to be a calling out of any sort, the beast looked away from her and down to the book again.

“I really like reading.” With her voice small and way more vulnerable than she would have liked it to be, Maven was aware she must have sounded like a child, but Johanna didn’t laugh at her at all.

“Makes sense.” Johanna nodded, carefully considering her next words before they came out of her mouth. The Maven she knew was a grumpy and rude woman, but something told her she was beginning to peel away at her layers, and it could be her natural optimism tricking her, but she thought she was catching a glimpse of the dear and unsure soul that lied beneath.

“In that case, would it help if I read to you?” She said at last, making the beast return her gaze to her, now clearly startled.

“What?”

“Well, the books only burn you, right? This means I can still touch them, so I could read them outloud for you. I know it’s not the same as reading something yourself, but still.”

Maven blinked up at Johanna, feeling in her heart both amazement and confusion. Not even her servants, the people who knew how much this meant for her, had ever made her the offer. Why her prisoner would was beyond her understanding. Of course, this could be an attempt at being let go, but Maven had never promised freedom in exchange for good graces.

“Sorry, it was just an idea.” Johanna mumbled embarrassedly when the witch didn’t answer for a long beat. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No, it’s a great idea!” Maven said quickly, louder than she’d meant. “You… would you do that?”

Happy to see Maven didn’t think her to be some sort of naive, ridiculous girl, Johanna smiled. There was a glimmer of hope in her purple eyes that Johanna had never seen before, and it seemed to light up Maven’s entire face. She looked a lot more human in that moment.

“Of course! Why don’t you eat your food and then I’ll pick something from one of the piles to read you?’

Despite herself, Maven smiled. “I’d love that.”

_#_#_#_

“Should we bring your tea to the gardens, mistress?”

Corbeau’s voice by her side startled her, and she turned to find him on the cabinet beside her. Furtively, she stole a glance at Johanna, who was picking them a book for the evening from the multiple choices in her bedrrom’s corridor. When Maven noticed with relief that Johanna hadn’t heard or spotted her, she turned back to the servant.

“No, today is much too cold, she’ll freeze outside. Light up the fire in the hall and serve us tea there. Please.”

After this, she returned to watch Johanna choose between what seemed to be an adventure novel and a botany book. She’d never read anything about magic, never touched the ancient knowledge that Maven dreamed of, but it didn’t make their reading sessions feel like they were worth any less. Magic or not, Johanna managed to take her to other worlds and introduce her to new people, things she thought she’d been doomed to spend the rest of her life without. Besides, between the reading and the conversations that usually followed, Johanna was in her company more often than anyone had ever been, even before the curse. She thought that that was what friendship must feel like, and it was growing on her.

“Can I do anything else for you?” Maven asked impatiently when Corbeau still did not leave. She felt uneasy with him by her side when she was, by all means, hiding. Every day, her curiosity made her watch Johanna as she picked a book, and everyday she went back to her room before Johanna could catch her to pretend she had been disinterestedly waiting for her instead.

“Oh, sorry!” He whispered, looking amused. “It’s just you looked so lost in thought, I was wondering if maybe there was something you wanted to share.”

Maven bit down on her lower lip. She didn’t have fangs, exactly, but the curse did give her sharper teeth and so she had to take care not to cut herself.

“She’s been reacting extremely well to her… situation.” Maven said, her voice still low for fear of being heard. There was no problem in sharing this dilemma with Corbeau, she thought. He was her oldest servant, had been with her ever since she was a small child, he’d try to help her. “I wonder if there’s anything I can do to make her feel better here.”

“Well, there’s the usual, of course. Chocolate, roses, promises you don’t intend to keep-“

He stopped his listing when the witch glared at him, clearly not happy with or interested in his suggestions. Even though she knew he was kidding, the implication of Maven doing a romantic advance on the woman she had locked up to begin with didn’t sit well with her, and she didn’t want her servants to feel like they could begin any funny attempts either.

“I’m joking, of course!” He said when he read the expression on Maven’s face. “You’re clearly the best person to answer that question, in all honesty. You’re the one who spends the most time with her. Surely, you must know what she likes at this point. Anything you do to show that you were listening when she talked to you, I’m sure she’d appreciate.”

“Yes, I think you’re right. I’ll think on that… thank you.”

The clock smiled before walking away. It was peculiar to see it, and perhaps a little too optimistic on his part to think so, but it seemed like the two of them were coming together on their own. Who would have known? Maybe other pleasant surprises awaited for them in the future.

_#_#_#_

When Maven announced they wouldn’t be doing their typical reading time that morning, Johanna was confused to find herself disappointed. That activity had begun as an act of goodwill of sorts, an attempt to get the witch to feel less miserable. As the weeks had passed, however, the two of them had fallen into a pleasant routine of reading and spending time with each other, to the point where Johanna looked forward to their mornings and tea times together. She thought it must be because the loneliness of the castle was starting to affect her, even though she did spend some time talking to the trio of objects that still were able to keep most of their human functions. Still, it saddened her when the witch canceled their plans.

“There’s something I want to show you instead.” Maven continued, brushing off imaginary specks of dust from the skirt of her dress. She’d spent most of her imprisonment wearing clothes so simple they would only be fit for sleeping for someone who didn’t have their body covered by feathers, but since her burns began to finally heal properly she’d been putting more effort into dressing nicely. Well, maybe not exactly nicely, but better than she had been, anyway. It wasn’t as if much could be expected from someone who had to deal with wings and claws.

“Oh?” Johanna perked up, her curiosity spiked. In the time she’d been there, she’d already explored most of the castle during the hours when she wasn’t with the witch, and the prospect that there were even more things to discover excited her.

“Yes. Follow me, please.”

Maven had walked past her and into the corridor outside of her bedroom, and Johanna fell into step beside her.

“Can you wait here?” Johanna asked. “I just need to put this book back in the pile I picked it from.”

She’d chosen the book just before heading to Maven’s room, and since she didn’t know if there was any order in the way the tomes were organized, she’d figured it might be better to return it before she forgot its place.

“There’s no need.” The beast answered, and either Johanna was imagining things or she actually sounded somewhat nervous. “You can bring it to where we’re headed.”

Johanna didn’t ask any more questions as Maven guided her. They climbed down flights of stairs until they were in the ground floor, and passed through many small tea rooms and living areas, until they arrived at a dead end. Johanna knew it was a dead end, because she’d been there before and the double doors at the end of the corridor wouldn’t open no matter what she did. However, to her surprise, the beast took a small bronze key from her pocket and stuck it in the keyhole. She then looked again at Johanna, looking uncertain.

“Would you like me to close my eyes?” She asked with playfulness, doing exactly that as the witch nodded shily.

“It might be better. I’ll… I’ll help you get inside.”

She heard the doors getting open, straining her ears to try and get a clue. Soon, Maven had placed herself behind Johanna and her hands on her upper arms, carefully pushing her forward until she was inside the room.

“You may open them now.”

At the first glimpse of her surprise, Johanna gasped. It was much brighter than the rest of the castle, as the ceiling high windows had their curtains open, and her eyes took a moment to adjust. The walls were a soft shade of white that intercalated with blue parts where birds had been painted, and the pattern made it seem like the birds were flying up to the ceiling, where there were even more of them as well as a chandelier. Near the fireplace, there were couches and armchairs and high bookcases. The window directly in front of her had a windowsill seat, and to its left lay an array of art supplies worthy of the greatest masters of France. A table with all different sorts of brushes and sketching material, and cabinet with paints of all the shades of the rainbow on its shelves, and stacks of blank canvases inside it, judging by the open door on its bottom part. Considering that there were other chests in the room which were closed but probably also filled, there was more material in the room than Johanna could spend in a lifetime.

“This is the drawing room.” Maven said while Johanna was still too stunned for words. “I don’t know who was the owner of this castle before the Enchantress, but they clearly had some interest in art. Do… do you like it?”

“Like it?” Johanna breathed, unbelieving. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

A corner of Maven’s lips lifted up only slightly, and she watched Johanna’s reaction closely, pleased with herself for having made a good choice. She’d asked the servants to clean up the room while Johanna had been sleeping, and she herself helped in the parts that didn’t have any books, and it had been worth it.

“If you like it so much, it’s yours.”

The woman gasped and turned to her abruptly. “Really?”

“Yes, it’s yours to do as you please.” Maven took a step back as she said that, ready to leave the human free to enjoy her gift. She was stopped, however, when Johanna surprised her by leaping forward and closing her arms around her neck.

“Thank you so much!” Johanna said, seemingly unaware that she’d thrown the beast in a state of complete shock. Her hands were lifted, because she had no idea of where she should put them, and as she breathed in all she could feel was the scent of Johanna’s hair. She could feel apple and peach, and something that was entirely too bright to be in that castle. Though she hadn’t seen it in years, she thought that that was exactly what summer smelt like. How did someone manage to bloom like that when she was trapped in eternal winter?

When Johanna retreated, she was smiling up at her. There was something in the way she was looking at her that Maven couldn’t decipher, and chose to ignore instead.

“Not…” Still trying to gather her thoughts, Maven had some trouble remembering what it was that she should say. “Not for that. I’ll leave you to enjoy it.”

“Wait, where are you going?” It was only when the witch tried to take another step back that she realized that Joahanna had taken her unnatural clawed hands on her own. Didn’t she worry she was going to cut herself? Since the night they met the witch had known she was brave, but it was one thing to tie yourself to a beast to save someone you love and entirely another to get comfortable enough to touch her without even shuddering. Maven didn’t know how to feel about that.

She tilted her head. “I don’t know?”

Though she cringed when she realized how much like a lost child that had sounded, Johanna only smiled wider.

“Stay with me, then! I brought the book like you said, and there are many here. Why don't you help me take a better look at this place, and then we can still read a little.”

Maven shifted her weight between her feet as Johanna walked to the bookshelf. She couldn’t fathom why Johanna would want her captor in the only room besides her bedroom where she had control over who could and couldn’t come in, and just thinking about it was a bit alarming. The woman picked up a book and Maven watched as a blush tinted her cheeks. Given that her servants had previously informed her that those books were all romances, Maven could imagine the reason for that.

“If that is of your liking.... sounds good.”

Johanna smiled to herself. She’d been right to try and get closer to the beast. If she’d simply stayed away, she would have never even dreamed of meeting the person she was talking to at the moment. There was something about her now that hadn’t been there before, and she found herself growing quite fond of this new Maven. Time would tell if she was right to give her that chance or not.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Male Drider Boyfriend: Nyraen 2

This is part two to the first Drider small fic I wrote! I enjoyed writing it a lot, and I do love me some drider bois. 

Warning: Mood board isn’t for those who are a fan of spiders. Arachnophobes are warned!

Part 1 - Part 2 (YOU’RE HERE) - Part 3

Web to Your Heart Part 2

After the time you had awoken from your slumber, the oddness to your so-called dreams was still plaguing your mind; bordering on falseness or reality. 

You were unsure whether what had happened in your dreams was a mixture of odd thoughts that came to your consciousness or not, but you were certainly certain that the cobweb with the message written was something you weren’t dreaming of.

That was what brought you to question everything: the Drider you had met that night on your way home, was he real? It didn’t seem to make sense at first; but with the days passing, you started to think it was indeed true.

That was what made you rather worried, for if it had been all true, that would’ve meant that the large drider had managed to bring you back to your small cottage; tucking you even into bed.

Still, the question was; why hadn’t you seen him anytime soon?

You questioned your sanity, trying to ignore all thoughts when you brought yourself home each night from working in the fields. And even then, you questioned whether he was watching from the shadows: watching you.

It had been a month since you had seen him, and once again, travelling home with your cart of goods, you wandered down the narrow dirt road, lantern in hand. 

You were wondering whether it was best to even call for him, to hear him come down to greet you, but then you were nervous you would bring something else instead.

So, quietly you trudged through with your clothing getting muddier by the second, watching the moon shine bright and high above you; even through the dense trees.

If he was watching for so long, why couldn’t he come out to greet me? You thought to yourself, turning glances back your way, seeing nothing but trees and an empty road behind. Or would he be more ruthless and unkind to me? Maybe even kill me?

You didn’t want to think about that, and even with your new friend on your mind, you still couldn’t forget the kiss you two shared. It was more than just passionate, it was longing; yearning for touch and something intimate from a lone stranger.

It made you feel both connected and sympathetic to him; for sometimes in your most doubting times, you too felt lonely.

He could’ve moved on by now. You thought. He could have a loving mate and darling children, or... he could be waiting for that right chance to see me.

You finally managed to make it down the long road in one piece; however with no Drider to greet you. When your little home came into view from hiding behind the trees, you sighed glumly. In times like this, all you wanted was your bed and to sleep.

My bed, a good book and knitting would suffice. You tried to ignore your tiredness; and when I get to my room, I can blow out that blasted candle- wait, I swear that was off when I left?

You stopped dead in your tracks, standing beneath your window in shock. The soft glow of the inside of the window could be seen, and when you tried shaking it off, believing you had just accidentally left it on, you believed it would’ve gone out by the time you had returned.

You blinked, and if you had missed it in a quick second, you wouldn’t have seen it; a large shadow walked past the window, a large shadow that disappeared quickly away from the candlelight, vanishing like a ghost before dawn.

You dropped your cart and in a flash, you were storming into your home, past your living space, and clambering up the stairs to get to your room. Your heart was pounding, a thrumming beat against your ribs as you thought you could collapse any moment.

You almost kicked your bedroom door down, and when you ran in, you looked around; nothing out of place nor taken nor moved. You looked to the window, your heart rising into your throat, your lips dry.

The candle had been blown out.

No, I’m losing it now. You were breathing heavier from the running and from the disbelief. You could truly be losing your mind to the thought of being stalked or followed. In your room, you found nothing but darkness; no creature waiting from what you could see.

You sighed in defeat when you thought of going back to what you needed to do, going to grab for the candle to re-light it.

“Looking for me kitten?”

You almost dropped the full thing on your foot, letting out a loud yelp as you spun back on the voice behind you.

Your eyes lingered at the door, before slowly looking upward, and above the door in the corner, you saw those familiar many black and red eyes, staring back at you.

He was hidden in the corner when the reflection of the moonglow caught on his figure, and he was hanging upside down, his beautiful silver hair hanging like a curtain.

You couldn’t find any words that came to your mouth, as you watched him gracefully descend to the ground, ever so carefully. It astonished you how a creature thrice the size of you could manage to get down with no trouble.

He was soon standing before you in his full glory; his eight huge hairy legs bent and hunched so he would fit into your tiny house. Still, in this crouched position, he still towered over you. 

He took in your lack of words with a wide smile, smiling from ear to ear with a playful look. “Come now, not even a simple hello from a sweet thing like you?”

“N-Nyraen... what are you doing here?” You tried to hide the relief in your voice from finally seeing him. “I came to see you again. I wanted to see how my little human was doing.” He mused thoughtfully, smiling what you could only believe was a genuine smile.

Your cheeks grew flush as you thought over his words. “I wasn’t expecting you t-to come back. I thought-”

“That I wouldn’t return?” Nyraen finished your sentence as if knowing exactly what you were going to say. You nodded sadly to him. He pulled you by the waist closer to him, his skin was smooth under your palms where you pressed your hands to his chest, cool as a stone.

“I could never miss an opportunity without you, my dear. Oh how much I missed to see you and hold and crave you like this.”

Your heart couldn’t keep still in these moments, and still, it fluttered like there were live butterflies in your stomach. “You were still around?”

“Oh yes,” Nyraen pulled himself closer to you, his bare lips pressing small kisses to your flushed skin, “I was always there, just never too close for you to see.”

It made you feel disappointed that you didn’t see him, but deep down, you knew he was always watching from the abyss of every night. “I thought you had moved on, leaving when you grew bored.” You hugged him to you close, similar to how you used to hug your dolls when scared and young.

He hummed your name through his fanged teeth, so sweet you thought he would begin to sing. “They do always say that you would meet the same stranger once again. It was fate written in the stars.”

He hugged you close, and his scent was the smell of rainwater and pine. Even that made you feel some-what closer to him. “It is late, and as much as I want to stay, I should leave.”

“Don’t.” Your voice had already spoken before he could finish. “Not yet, light hasn’t come through yet. And I would rather stay up talking with you now than of the thought of sleeping.”

Nyraen’s chuckle sounded so melodic in your ears that you couldn’t help but feel pulled to him more, his entire being was so beautiful now that you could really see him. He silently agreed with you, and you pulled back from him, beaming.

“I’ll grab some mugs for some tea then.”

So that was what you did, and for hours of the evening and early morning, you two sat by each other drinking with your hot beverages and talking: talking about anything and everything on this earth.

You learnt a lot about him: he was older than his looks, and he lives alone in the crevices of a cave near the mountains. He enjoyed the night and wandering through them, he liked reading books, poetry and the history of different races, yet he told you he had few friends and little family left.

From what he told you of, the more drawn to him you became, and through your love of books, you talked both fondest of your favourite genres. To your surprise, he told you he loved most the style of romance books and poems.

When you questioned him about why he would watch people, you, in particular, Nyraen shrugged a slight blush to his cheeks from when you could see it. “I like watching those and imaging to myself what lives they could live. The prettiest and rarest of flowers are always the ones never seen again.”

You talked and talked, and cuddled and kept each other warm, and when you saw the light begin to break over the horizon of the trees, you were both tired and down to the thought of seeing him leave so soon.

He was the first to notice it too, and he too seemed visibly disappointed with how fast things had gone. “Sweet kitten, I enjoyed our time together, but I must leave now.”

You had brought him out of your thoughts when you tugged on his arm, gaining his attention. “Will you come back here again?” You asked with hope of dancing in your eyes.

“Oh, how you know I will. But for the night is only when I can.” Nyraen sighed. You took your hand into yours, ignoring the feeling of his nails grazing softly over your skin. “I wish I could come with you, or see you more.”

“Don't kitten, or you might give me such an idea like that.” He purred softly, cupping your face in his other hand, making you look up to him. “You belong here, with other humans. Not in a lifetime of darkness and cold.”

“Nor do you.” You spoke. “You deserve happiness too Nyraen.”

“I am happy.” without any warning, he had picked you up into his arms, holding you so in reach of his face. “I’m happy when I’m here with you.”

“Please come back tonight.” You pleaded, running your hands through his silver hair. He shuddered into you. “I will, and I promise. But I cannot go without one more thing.”

Anything. You thought, dreamily looking to him. “A kiss, one more before I must leave.”

And so you were the one to lean into him, taking his lips to yours as you kissed with both passion and want. He clung to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. You couldn’t be the same without him there; like he was your life-supply of a drug.

“K-Kitten, please -- ah-- I must go.” He moaned into your lips, pulling away with disappointment from having to go. “I will see you tonight, and please, get some rest.”

“I will.” You have settled on your feet again when he crawled his way out of your window. You could hear him scatter across your roof, quick and rapid until you heard nothing but silence.

In came the pouring of light as soon as he had left, and you wished he could remain here with you instead; for you wished the sun could be replaced with endless night, just to see him longer with you here.

When you went to pick up your mugs, you found woven in small webbing a small heart, woven into the gap to hold the cups. You couldn’t help but look forward to the next night of seeing him again.

---

I’m gonna make a FINAL part (NSFW) soon! I love Nyraen, he is too cute and deserves love! Hope you liked! Thanks!

[amarabliss]

Oath and Hearts - 14 (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

So this is a crossover between FFXV and Dragon Age Inquisition.

You fell through a rift into the fade fighting the demons you swore to protect your world from. When you popped out you were no longer in the lands of Ferelden instead trapped in Insomnia. The gracious king allowed you to say recognizing power when he saw it. One thing led to another and now you were part of the procession of the prince to his wedding years later. Before the final battle, after years of fighting, losses, and love…your friend…your king…Noctis has asked you to change it all…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11  Part 12  Part 13

Rain…

It trickled down your face as you watched the Chocobos pull each heavily decorated funeral cart. You shivered looking down to your hands. You looked up when you felt a warm coat fall onto your shoulders. Nyx smiled at you, “It’s almost done.”

You smiled at him pulling the Glaive coat around you tightly, “What about you?”

He shrugged a little, “I’ll manage. I can’t let you get sick. Specs would hang me for sure.”

“What about getting reprimanded for not being uniform?” You glanced at him as another cart passed by carrying caskets dressed in Glaive and Crownsguard insignias.

“Funny thing…when you save the city…they promote you.” He smirked a little, “Only person who can dress me down is myself and the king…Noctis doesn’t seem like one who is tight on protocol.”

You chuckled to yourself nodding a little, “You’re not wrong…”

“Rarely am.” He smirked more and laughed when you nudged him in the side with your elbow.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” You looked at him finally before looking at the final cart moving past them, “And not on one of those.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He put his arm around you, “Might lose a limb or two…but you’re not going to lose me.”

“Does it hurt?” You glanced at his left side where his arm use to hang.

“A little phantom pain here and there…and a burning sensation from time to time…” He sighed as you both took your place behind the carts walking in the rain along with the rest of those that lost someone, “A price worth paying…”

Warmth spread through you when you walked into the citadel. Still broken in places but structurally a masterpiece that can be restored. Nyx stood by your side helping your through the crowd as people consoled one another.

“There he is…” Nyx smiled as you pointed across the way, “I’m surprised he didn’t come see you first.”

“He has a duty to his king.” You smiled as you saw Ignis speaking with Gladio and Prompto. They seemed eager to push him away and even pointed back at you. Ignis turned and smiled at you.

“No no no…that’s too easy…” A dark voice spoke behind you, “No happy endings here…”

You turned seeing Ardyn walking toward you, “…no…”

“Yes. Let’s try again…shall we?” Ardyn grabbed your neck squeezing it tightly. You gasped trying to get air as you clawed at his hand that lifted you from the ground, “Thank you for all the details this time…you must be getting tired…This next go around I think we’ll play more on hidden desires…”

“What’s happening?” Cor watched the heart monitor go crazy as Dr. Reed rushed over. You were seizing shaking in the bed.

“I don’t know! Get back, we need to work.” Dr. Reed ordered as help moved in, “Where is Scientia? He may need to make some decisions.”

“I’ll find him, but no matter what you need to protect that child!” Cor barked at him as nurses ran inside, “Do you understand?”

Reed waved him out of the room as he began ordering for sedative to be administered. Across the city Ignis was frantically running upstairs trying to reach his apartment with Prompto.

“Why are we here?” The blonde asked huffing and puffing behind him.

“I need a book.” Ignis shoved the fourth-floor door open running down the hall to his apartment. He had the greatest sense of surrealism one could have as he opened the door.

Everything was exactly as he left it. Being on the northeast end of the city had been a blessing as most of the attack was near the center and west quarters. He didn’t waste any time to dwell on that fact and rushed to his bookshelf.

“Aw man…whew…” Prompto leaned against the door, “What…what book is so important it’s going to help Y/N?”

“It’s a book about her…” Ignis began pulling out thick journals quickly opening them and then discarding them to the floor.

“Her? I don’t follow…” Prompto leaned forward putting his hands on his knees, “I’m…I’m gonna…sit…”

Ignis glanced back at him briefly sitting on the ground as he pulled out another one, “You’re aware that I interviewed her for a time when she first came…”

“Uh…kinda…I was wrapped up with exams…” Prompto scratched his head thinking back, “Had a lot of training with the guard too…”

“Well I did…” He let another book fall, “I had asked her about how she got here…her response was the Fade.”

“The place she said before zonking out. Where is it?” Prompto was beginning to focus in now.

“That’s hard to explain…” Ignis scanned the book in his hands finding what he needed, “She explained that is was a space between worlds or realities…”

“I don’t follow.” Ignis leaned forward picking up his coffee taking a sip.

You stood up walking toward the window of his office thinking to yourself. Finally, you turned back to him, “Look at the window.”

“Alright.” He adjusted in his seat watching you.

You turned back around looking at the window, “We’re here…and you can clear see the world outside, which can be anywhere else…your city, my home…. The fade is everything in the glass.”

He looked at the glass seeing your reflection as you continued on, “It’s this strange place that is exactly like here, but different. It’s a place you can experience your greatest desire and your deepest fear all at once. You can’t trust anything you see, but you want to so badly.”

“I follow that…but how is it you passed through there to here. Just like the window it’s a barrier from one world to the other” You looked down at your hand as he spoke.

“I was given a mark by chance.” You held up your hand to him showing what looked like a strange dark burn, “It allowed me to open and close rips in the veil. It gave me a link or something…you’re not supposed to go to Fade physically, you’re only supposed to let your mind go there.”

“Why can’t you go physically? You obviously have…” He began writing down some notes glancing up at you as looked down to your hand tracing the pattern.

“Going there…it’s a nightmare. In a dream your mind allows you to rationalize things. When given the impossible…” You started to say.

“Your mind fills in the blanks.” He finished for you, “So when your mind goes there it looks more real?”

“Yes, actually. Accounts say you’ll have a hard time distinguishing it from reality. We can lose a lot of mages to the Fade if they aren’t prepared enough.” You crossed your arms looking back at the window, “But physically…you only see parts of reality…if you were to actually be part of the glass do you think it would look this clear?”

“No, of course not.” He tilted his head, “It’s made of several different particles and substances…”

“So, you would see that…and the chair you sit in…the table would be encrusted with glass fragments. Your coffee would look full, but it would be all solid.” You frowned looking back to him, “The monster you saw that day in the courtyard comes from there. Demons of all varieties, all strong enough to take over the strongest minds and feed off of them until you become part of the Fade.”

“We have something similar here…It’s more like a sickness for us though derived from a substance called Miasma. It’s why at night and dark situations deamons show themselves…Miasma can’t flourish in the light. I wonder if it’s related to your Fade.” He thought absently before writing something down again as you turned to the window, “Tell me, do you think you could find a way back into the Fade?”

“Why?” Your head snapped back to him worry lines creasing your face.

He looked at you as your tone shifted, “I don’t intend to go there…it’s sounds like an unfit place to be. I simply wanted to know if there was a way, and if you were looking for it.”

You stayed silent for a long time before stepping back over to your seat, “There’s always a way. It’s…in a way a substance that pierces through the world. Back home…the barrier, we call it a veil, has thinned so much it’s easy to accidently fall into the Fade by making camp in the wrong spot. It’s not the same here, so I’m not sure what it would look like.”

“How so?” He watched you grip the back of the chair tightly.

You looked at him trying to find the words, “I can’t really explain it…back home it looked like…like a shimmer. It’s a wave, but not…I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He smiled at you thinking back to your arrival, “I think I saw what you meant your first day here. It was like a green wave of light…”

“If you walked toward a dense part…you’d more than likely slip into it somehow, but I haven’t seen or felt it here…I certainly don’t glow anymore…” You told him quietly looking back to your hand, “It’s like your veil is whole. I’m sure we could find a weak point, but I wouldn’t want to subject your people to the risks of opening the Fade up. It’s kind of a relief actually…”

“I understand, I wouldn’t mind hearing more about it someday.” He smiled at you trying to set you back at ease.

“She’s in the Fade.” He pointed to the open page, “She must have found a thin part of the veil in the city somewhere, probably caused by all the magical energy used during the attack.”

“Okay…that explains what is happening to her, but how do we pull her out.” Cor looked at him not liking the look on Ignis’ face.

“I need to go back where she fell in…and I need to go after her.” Ignis told everyone.

“Out of the question.” Cor shook his head.

“I’m not asking you…any of you.” Ignis looked at his friends who insisted on being part of the explanation, “Noctis has already released me for the time being. I don’t need anyone’s permission.”

Noctis shifted on his feet glancing over to Cor, “I did…but Iggy…”

“I can’t let her stay there…I love her and she’s the mother of my child.” Ignis shook his head speaking firmly, “I’m not going to lose her to something as trivial as a dream that I can pull her out of.”

“Sounds a lot worse than just a dream, Ignis.” Gladio sighed as he crossed his arms, “More like a potential nightmare.”

“All the more reason I need to get her out. The longer she stays the harder it is for her to break away from it.” Ignis told him, “And the more likely it becomes real and affects her out here.”

Cor took in a deep breath looking at him, “It already has…”

“What do you mean?” Ignis looked at him eyes filling with worry, “What happened?”

“The only thing the doctor came up with was she felt like she was drowning or suffocating…” Cor told him, “It was brief…but enough to be troubling.”

Ignis looked at them all before nodding, “I’m not going to waste any more time…I’m going to get her home.”

You took in a deep breath as your eyes slowly began to open. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in a long time. An arm slithered around your waist making your smile, “I thought you would have been up hours ago.”

You turned freezing for a moment at the face you saw. Nyx smiled lazily at you, “Me? Really?”

“Wha…” You moved away from him, “Nyx…”

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He sat up as you moved off the bed away from worry filling his eyes, “Baby…”

You stared at him as your chest rose up and down as you shut your eyes, “I don’t…something isn’t…”

“Y/N…what is it?” He moved to the edge of the bed reaching for your hands.

“Don’t!” You slapped his hands away opening your eyes looking at him, “I-I…Nyx….”

“It’s okay.” He raised his hands calm coming over his features. He reached out to you holding his arms open, “Baby, it’s okay…”

You started to shake as tears filled your eyes, “Nyx…I…”

He stood up moving to you wrapping his arms around you tightly, “It’s okay…the doc said this might happen for a while. You hit your head really hard.”

“I don’t…I don’t remember…” You shook your head as you hugged him feeling cold as you did, “Why can’t I remember?”

“Shh…” He rubbed your back in soothing motions as he spoke, “It’s okay, we got this. Things will start coming back slowly. Just…just take a breath and tell me what you remember?”

You took a deep breath in through your nose letting it out through your mouth before you spoke, “I…don’t…”

“Let me help.” He pulled away looking at your face, “You were on the way to the citadel to meet…”

“…Ignis…” You nodded a little shutting your eyes, “we had a meeting. I took a cab…”

“Yeah, you did.” Nyx smile showed in his voice, “What happened next?”

“We didn’t stop and…” You looked at him as he touched your face sending shivers down your spine, “and…there was a truck…”

“Yeah.” He nodded before resting his forehead against yours, “Thank the Six for airbags…it could have been a lot worse if you had been flung from the car.”

“It rolled over.” He nodded again frowning as your head came to rest on his chest, “Why didn’t I…”

“Like I said…” Nyx took your hands in his kissing them, “you hit your head…”

You stared into his eyes and nodded. There was this strange sensation buzzing in the back of your head as he kissed your forehead, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, babe.” He looked over to the clock on the bedside table, “I do have to go though…”

“Fine…” You frowned a little as he squeezed your hands.

“I can stay…” He looked at you worried, “I’ll tell them, they’ll understand.”

“No, you need to go work. The king needs you.” You told him taking your hands back, “Go.”

“Sweet Shiva…” You heard him say as he turned away. It made your skin crawl. Every syllable sounding wrong in your ears, “you’re too understanding.”

You watched him freeze before turning to you again, a smirk coming to his face, “I said something wrong, didn’t I? Damn…I thought for sure this would be the one. Handsome gentleman…potential for you to screw it all up by having an affair…death destruction fighting…”

“What is this…” You started to back up slowly away from him.

“Haven’t you pieced it together yet, Inquisitor?” His eyes blackened as ooze began to drip from them, “You brought me here…and I’ve met so many friends who’ve taught me how this place works.”

“Ardyn…”  You hissed as you ran toward the door.

“We have a winner!” He shouted after you, “Using this form is so much fun…You did love him didn’t you, almost as much as that retainer.”

You grabbed the handle and it disintegrated in your hand. Panic started to fill you when you turned around. A monster in Nyx’s body strode toward you, “You make it too easy girl!”

You shut your eyes awaiting whatever was about to happen, when a deep burly voice sang out, “Not this time!”

“Who are you?” You opened your eyes seeing Ardyn in his true form holding off some sort of energy attack.

“Never you mind.” The voice was familiar as it spoke with cocky confidence, “It’s time for you to go.”

The light faded for a brief second letting you see a silhouette wielding a staff summoning for another string of bright energy attacks. Ardyn cried out in pain before shimmering away. Your eyes adjusted slowly at the approaching person.

“Inquisitor, are you alright?” They asked as you sank to the floor the façade around you began to fade away with each of his steps, “Y/N?”

“H-Hawke?” You grabbed onto his arms feeling how warm he felt. This is what a person was supposed to feel like, “It’s really you?”

He smirked a little despite looking tired and ragged, “Who else would it be?”

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 07 - Decay

A peaceful monk is ordered to "deal with" a dragon whose very presence is causing a swath of death and decay in the kingdom. He promises to do so, but does not wish to betray his nonviolent ways.

Darvos was transcribing a copy of his texts when the summons arrived. The king of the land had requested his presence, and further, his assistance. Although Darvos was well aware of his own skill with his staff, used only to protect and defend those who were unable to protect themselves, he could hardly guess why the king would want to see him. Nonetheless, a request from the king himself was not something someone would turn down if they knew what was good for them. During the trip to the capital, and castle within, Darvos tried convincing himself that the king was going to request that he travel the kingdom to further spread the word and teachings of his largely nonviolent beliefs to his fellow citizens. He failed miserably, and wound up nervous at what he would be instructed to do.

Every hall of the castle was lavish beyond Darvos's imagination. Huge, stained glass windows decorated every wall, impeccable carpets rolled from one end of the building to the other, and the parts of the walls not occupied by windows or doors were covered with long, ceiling-height banners, embroidered with the royal family crest, and masterfully detailed portraits of the king and his family. Darvos did his best not to stare as he saw in one glance more wealth than his order would allow to have among the lot of them. Finally, he was ushered into the throne room, where rows of knights, dressed all in bright, shining, golden and blue armor guarded the king on his extravagant seat. As he looked around, Darvos could see how the room had been designed to keep the throne - and the monarch seated upon it - at the perpetual center of focus.

"Darvos, is it not?" the king asked, rhetorically, "We have heard great tales of your deeds. Call you yourself a monk, then, or paladin?"

"Just a monk, sir," Darvos replied, before hastily appending, "Y-your Majesty."

"Very well, monk. You have proven yourself beyond capable at dealing with unsightly monsters." His head moved ever so slightly towards a man standing in attendance, holding a book. Although the king said nothing, nor did he move further, the man stepped forward and read aloud from the book.

"August 2nd, 19 KC. A flock of ferocious griffons ravaging the town of Hillshire were driven away by the actions of Darvos of the Order Nonpugil. No townsfolk bore witness to the deed, yet all affirmed he returned unscathed from the fight.

"March 17th, 20 KC. Frequent reports of nagas kidnapping travelers between Hillshire and Waterford ceased after Darvos of the Order Nonpugil ventured into the territory of the nagas. All but three victims - presumed dead - returned to their respective towns shortly after.

"September 9th, 20 KC. A sphinx, who prevented people from entering or leaving Hillshire regardless of their answers to her riddles, left or was removed after Darvos of the Order Nonpugil approached her. Regular trade resumed swiftly."

Darvos shifted uncomfortably. He had a suspicion as to why the events were recorded like that, and what sort of task the king was about to saddle him with. The bookkeeper continued for several more entries before the king silently signaled for him to stop. "Now then, Darvos," the king began, "We have called you here about a beast most foul in the north of Our kingdom. What information We have is merely rumor and educated guess, but for that it causes all within a growing radius to waste away and perish. The wasteland is expanding towards the people of this kingdom, and that is unforgivable and unadmissible." He fixed Darvos with a commanding stare. "As such, you, a fierce and experienced warrior against monsters, who defends humanity against such beasts, are tasked with eliminating this creature. The rumors which have been collected suggest this monster is a yellow dragon; however, all attempts to get close enough to confirm such have ended in failure."

There was a pause, and Darvos realized it was his turn to speak. "My practice discourages fighting when not necessary, and forbids killing," he started. The king's stare grew harder, and he could see and hear the armed guards tense, readying themselves for whatever he might command them to do. Darvos swallowed a lump and went on, "however, protecting my fellow beings is a noble task of the highest order, so if I must fight... I must fight. Either way, I will do all I can to stop the encroaching death."

The king's face softened into a smile. "Very good. You will have The Guard's arsenal at your disposal, should you wish to arm yourself for the task. And, of course, several magical draughts to resist the fiend's effects will be available."

Darvos nodded, then bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope to not fail You or my fellow beings."

The monk spent the next week in preparation, trying to work out what he would do. He would not, of course, call out the king for having the wrong information on his deeds, especially not when he suspected doing so might get the king to send a warrior to kill the creature causing this. When he faced the griffons, he had merely convinced the town's hunters to refrain from stealing the flying creatures' eggs and poaching their young. After this, the cat-birds were perfectly content to live peacefully nearby. And again, when the snake people caused problems, they had been greatly slighted by horses and carts rumbling near and even over their dens, resulting in interruption and occasional injury. Only those who veered off the main, cleared pathway had been taken. With greater communication between the nagas and... well, Hillshire, at least (Waterford was less than eager to listen), and clear markings to mark the main road, the nagas were granted peace in their homes and travelers were granted peace of mind as they traveled. Except for the two who had been eaten, but Darvos could see no reason to increase the number of corpses for it.

And the story with the sphinx was similar, though unique. He hadn't sought to leave Hillshire; he merely asked for conversation. She spared him long enough to spend a very entertaining afternoon with her. One thing had led to another, and he soon found himself quite grateful - for his sake and for Hillshire's - that his vows did not include one of celibacy. She still visited him from time to time, although most encounters were largely to catch up on events and for her to test out riddles on the monk.

However, by the time the end of the week rolled around, and he was set to travel out, he was prepared. He had turned down offers of armor, of swords, and accepted only a staff. Even then, he intended to use it far more for walking than for fighting. Accompanied by a guard to protect him up until the wasteland, Darvos began the trip towards the northern edge of the kingdom. It was largely uneventful, and before he realized, he had reached the town being threatened with encroaching death. He disembarked and decided to find out what more the people of the town knew of the dragon.

Results were mixed.

"It's surely divine punishment for Vance and Doyle stealing each other's tools constantly, and arguing without stop!"

"Mom said it gets closer because some people in this town don't eat their vegetables! It can't be me, though, so the adults are screwing things up for the rest of us!"

"It coughs a lot. Maybe it forgot how to breathe fire?"

"Darryl suggested a virgin sacrifice like people in old stories please dragons. He dropped it when I suggested we use him for the sacrifice, of course."

"It's a mighty wizard dragon, concocting a spell to visit a plague across the entire world, until only it and other dragons and poison creatures are left!"

"It's as yellow as the sand it holes up in."

"Silzer used to grow flowers, you know. I suppose he's lost his green thumb, then."

Darvos did a double-take at that last one. The old woman smiled in kind remniscence. "Oh-ho, you doubt me, I'm sure. Well, I was barely even a woman when he left for good, but ol' Silzer used to be such a pleasant drake. Thinking back on him, he was far more patient with us little kids than he had any need to be." She sighed. "Oh, I hope he didn't go away and start doing this because of how we loved to climb his tail and hug his snout."

"I am... sorry to hear that, ma'am," the monk said, "er, would you happen to remember what sorts of things he used to eat before he left?"

She scrunched her face up in thought. "Oh, I'm not so clear on that. I never had to cook for him, you see, and seventy years is quite a long time back to recall. Perhaps fish? Fish and eggs, I think. Maybe the plants from his garden? That sounds like it might be right." The old woman squinted at him. "There were, and are, no humans in his diet, you hear? I know you come from the capital, and Silzar deserves better than getting beat up like a common thug!" The fire in her dimmed as she gazed to the north end of the town with a wistful look, saying, "at least, I hope you can save us and him, both. I've not seen him, myself, in several years."

Darvos placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I do not believe fighting should be necessary in anything. Rest assured, ma'am, ending that dragon's - Silzar's - life is not even on my mind."

She smiled back. "In that case, young sir, I wish you the absolute best of luck."

"Glad to hear it." He turned to leave, but before doing so, looked back at her. "Say, would there happen to be an apothecary, or alchemist, in this town? I have a rather special request for them."

Hardly an hour later, he walked to the north edge of town, package from the alchemist in his hand. He and the guard uncorked the rot-resisting potions from the capital, downing their respective doses. As they stepped into the dead lands, Darvos looked at the trained warrior. "If you would, please stay back while I deal with Sil- with the dragon. If I am successful, I will not need your aid, and if I fail, it is better that you are able to escape and tell the king of what happened." He received only a stiff nod in response.

After some walking, a sizable mound in the barren soil appeared, with a hole in the side well large enough to fit a young adult dragon through. "Here should be fine, if you do not mind," Darvos said to the guard, who took a few more steps before visibly coming to a stop. "Thank you," he said with honest gratitude, and he steeled himself and strode up to the entrance.

"Dragon? Silzer? I am Darvos, seeking to help. Will you come and talk?"

"Simply to talk? My every breath is death; I kill the very soil I stand on," a deep, rattling voice echoed from within, "what do you hope to gain from a talk? If you have come for a fight, I will not drag myself out for one; if you are true for a talk, come and face me in my domain."

Darvos took his second dose of the potion, in case his first grew weak in the dragon's home. "Very well, Silzer. I hope to gain nothing, but I believe what I carry with me will help you regain a friendship and forge new ones, and a town will be freed of an unnatural clock over their lives." He walked into the hole, quickly finding himself in the dark. "My heartfelt apologies if I am clumsy and run into you; I have not the keen eyesight of a dragon."

A jet of flame shoots through the air in front of him, lighting a solitary torch between him and a large, yellow-scaled dragon. His teeth had dulled and yellowed, too, over the years of isolation, and while Darvos was no expert on dragons, he could not call the dragon's tired features "healthy." Silzar, he sensed, was also looking him over, as if to see what fancy weaponry he had snuck in to brave a dragon's cave unassisted. "Truthful, foolish, or beyond skilled," Silzar remarked, "now, you mentioned carrying something with you. What would you present to me?"

"Ah, I'm afraid there is no fully polite way to ask this," Darvos said as he reached into the bag from the alchemist, withdrawing two of the tablets within, "but would you care for a breath mint?"

Two days later, the king's book had a new entry in it. "August 7, 23 KC. A plague of death and rot in the northern lands, brought about by a dragon, wass put to end when Darvos of the Order Nonpugil faced the dragon alone."

[laxus-and-ceruli]

Sunflowers and Camellias (Part One)

Warnings- Swearing and fluff

Camellias

Some of you may have never seen a camellia except in pictures if you live in colder climates. Camellias grow as shrubs in warmer regions and they are difficult to find as a cut flower because they tend to be fragile. These romantic flowers are stunning and look similar to roses, and like roses have different meanings depending on the color. Red camellias say “you’re a flame in my heart”, pink symbolizes longing, and white say “you’re adorable”. If you are fortunate enough to live in an area where camellias are in bloom, I recommend you take the time to pick some for your darling. They are also available as bonsai trees.

Sunflowers represent longevity, adoration, and pure love. These flowers remind me of cheerful faces, and when growing they follow the sun, moving throughout the day. They are easily obtained from florists, or you can easily grow your own from seed-which could be a romantic activity for you and your sweetheart. Additionally, the seeds of the flower attract wildlife.

~~~~~~

“Laxus!” He stiffened when I jumped on his back.

“What do you want?” He huffed, ignoring my grip on him.

“I’m hyper.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He chuckled.

“Let’s go on a job,” I buried my nose into his neck, “Just the two of us.”

“Oh yeah?” He thought for a moment, “Alright.”

“Really?!” I jumped off eyes sparkling.

“Sure, sounds fun.”

“Awesome! I’ll go pick one out!” I kissed his cheek and went over to the request board while he talked to Gramps.

I pulled a job off to look at the details.

“U-um…” I looked over to see the blue-haired dragon slayer.

“Hey, Wendy,” I ruffled her hair, “You looking to go on a job?”

“No, I was actually looking to talk to you.” She said, looking at the ground.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Well… I heard some of the others talking and…” She clenched her little fists, before looking at me with big eyes, “Is it true you and Laxus can do unison raids?!”

“Huh? Oh-” I smiled at her, “Yeah! We’ve done that a few times.”

“Really? That’s so cool!”

“You interested in Unison Raids?” 

“I just think they’re really awesome!” 

“Heh-”

“You pick one out yet?” Laxus asked from behind me.“No, sorry. I got distracted.” I scratched the back of my neck.

“You’re such a pain.” He turned to the board and started looking for a job. “This one looks good. Decent reward too.”

He grabbed the paper and started for the door.

“Sorry Wendy, we can finish talking when I get back.” I gave her an apologetic smile before running after Laxus.

“Gimme that,” I snatched the paper from him and looked it over, ‘Yeah, this works.”

We stopped by my place so I could pack a quick bag. 

“You know we’re gonna need to take a train, right?” I side-eyed him with a smirk.

He groaned.

“You’re the one who picked the job, not me.” I hefted my bag onto my shoulder, grabbed some cash from my room, and pulled him to the door. “Come on, I’ll get us our own compartment.”

~~~~ I closed the door to our compartment and saw Laxus already pale.

“Aw baby,” I cooed, sitting next to him, “We’re not even moving ye-”

Just as I said it the train lurched and began chugging forward. Laxus’ eyes widened and he started to sweat.

“How long is-... this going to b-be?” He moaned.

“Three-and-a-half hours.” I pulled his head onto my lap and ran my fingers through his hair. “Just try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Please tell me we’re almost there,” Laxus grumbled as he woke up.

“No,” I frowned and stroked his face. “Sorry, maybe we shouldn’t have done this…”

“Hey, you know this isn’t you- urh- fault,” He gagged, “And when we get there I’ll be fine.”

I nodded and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. 

“Laxus,” I shook him slightly, “Hey, we’re here!”

“Finally,” He groaned as he sat up.

We’d left the guildhall at an odd hour, and it was almost sunset already, so we decided to stay here tonight, and head out in the morning.

We found a decent inn not far from the palace.

“Welcome to the Flower Mirage Inn! Is this your first time in Crocus?” The old Lady at the desk said, not looking up from the check-in book in front of her.

“Not exactly,” I spoke up. 

She looked at us and smiled, “Oh what a lovely couple! Honeymooners?”

Laxus’ face lost all color before turning bright red, “N-no! We’re… We’re just dating! Not married! N-not that-that I haven’t thought about… B-but that’s not-... oh...”

“We’ll just take a single room for two nights,” I giggled at his rambling. I gave her the Jewel and went to sign the book. She handed me the key and I smiled, “Thank you.”

I turned to see Laxus trying to blend into the background, face still burning. I laughed as I grabbed his arm, “Come on.”

When we got to the room he flopped facedown on the bed.

“I’m an idiot,” He groaned into the pillows.

“You’re a cute idiot though.” He turned his head to glare at me, “What? You got all blushy and it was cute!”

I dropped my bag on the dresser and laid next to him.

“I didn’t know it was so easy to get you all flustered,” I teased. “I mean, she only asked if it was our honeymoon.”

“Oh I’m easy to fluster?” He challenged.

“I never said I wasn’t!” I laughed, “This isn’t about me!”

After we spent some time laughing, I looked over at him, “I’m hungry, let’s go get some food?”

“Sure. What were you thinking?”

“Pizza?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Grabbing some Jewel, we went to wander around until we found a good looking pizza place.

As we wandered, we came across a stall with pretty flower crowns, necklaces, and bracelets. The vendor saw me looking with one of my hands wrapped in Laxus’, and cheerily greeted us.

“What an adorable couple!” He clasped his hands under a chin. “And if I remember correctly, members of Fiore’s strongest guild, Fairy Tail.”

I smiled slightly uncomfortable.

“Please, take something!” He insisted, “I’m such a fan of young love, and to think one of Fiore’s premier couples would be wearing something from my cart!”

“Free huh?” Laxus looked over my shoulder at the man’s wares. “You’d look nice with that one.”

He pointed to a crown with sunflowers and white flowers.

“You think so?” The vendor carefully picked it up and set it on my head. “Thank you. Hmmm.”

I knew a little about flowers, my mom owned a flower shop back in Magnolia. Most of the flowers in this cart had romantic meanings. I saw a small bunch of white Camellias and took one, tucking it in Laxus’ hair and kissing his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were a bight shade of pink. 

I smiled and thanked the man before going back to our pizza search.

The sun was nearly set by the time we found a locally loved pizzeria. We were seated in a back courtyard dining area. There were fairy lights and a fountain that reflected them. It just seemed to sparkle out here.

As we waited for the pizza, you could feel static in the air, my fair started sticking up.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine, just a little out of my element.” He admitted. I nodded and it went quiet again. They brought out the food and we still didn’t talk.

“Have you really thought about marrying me?” I asked, nervously playing with my hands.

“I…” I’d caught him mid-bite and he swallowed, “I.. I mean… Sure I have.”

“You’ve been my best friend longer than Flamebrain’s been in the guild. Since we were both kids,” He continued, “I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers and… Yeah, the thought’s crossed my mind a few times… I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in that dress during the games.”

“I love you too.” I smiled at him, holding back tears.

“You’re crying!” He panicked, “D-did I say something wro-”

“No! No. It’s okay, I’m just happy, is all.”

He let out a relieved sigh, smiling back.

We finished our food and headed back to the inn.

We got cleaned up and went to bed, a tangled mess of limbs.

~~~~~

“Gah!” I landed harshly on the ground, skidding until I hit a tree. I slammed my fist in the dirt and pushed myself up. “Bastard!”

“You good?” Laxus landed next to me.

“I’ll live,” I grumbled, looking at the monster that threw me as it roared. “It’s stronger than I thought.”

“Yea, I didn’t expect an S-class monster from a regular job.” He helped pull me to my feet. “I think if you hit me with a Power surge and we try to Unison raid, we might be able to cut it down quickly.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded, backing up, “Two-Layer Magic Circle: Power Surge!”

A beam of light wrapped around the dragon slayer, boosting his magic power.

“Let’s do this!” Laxus shouted and he grabbed my hand, “Lightning Dragon Secret Art:”

“Eight Layer Magic Circle:”

“Earth Shatter!”/“Roaring Thunder!”

A blast of magic erupted in front of the monster, the ground around it cracking and exploding, as the thing was electrocuted.

I let out a sigh as it fell to the ground, dead.

“We should grab some of its teeth,” Laxus said, “They’re a rare material used to make magical weapons.”

I nodded, drawing whatever energy was left in its gums, making the teeth fall out. He grabbed a few and we started back to the mansion the client lived in. The man was extremely grateful and gave us the 325,000 Jewel.

We were walking back to Crocus, his arm around my shoulders.

“I can’t believe he added another 25,000 Jewel!” I squealed. “I’ll finally be able to redo that horrendous bathroom!”

“Of course you’re thinking of interior design right now,” he chuckled.

“Shut up!” I blushed.

“Nah, it’s cute!”

~~~~~~ 

[lizzie-boo]

You’ve Got A Friend In Me

Request: Hi! I was just wondering if you would make a sibling Harry Potter imagine (post I dunno what y’all call it) where the reader is a younger sibling ( maybe to Harry or whoever idk you choose) and they have always been the outcast of the family, always feeling like they were in their siblings shadows. They are shy, quiet, introverted, and work really hard (but never ask for help). Maybe they can be in Ravenclaw (if their in the timeline maybe besties with Luna?) Please tag me! I love you byee!

Requested by: @the-professional-dumbass​

Warnings: None 

Words: 1,899

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I hope you like it. I feel like I could’ve done so much more with this but it was getting long. Hopefully, this is similar to what you wanted. Thank you for putting up with my disappearance for a while. It’ s nice to be back. 

I had always lived in the shadow of my older brother. I expected it though, why wouldn’t I? He had survived an attack from Voldemort when he was just a baby. Sure it hurt that I got overlooked all the time but Harry was the chosen one. Sure I was basically a miracle baby since my mom had been pregnant with me when she was killed and I by sheer luck and magic had been able to survive. However, not many people knew that. Most thought that my parents, James, and Lily Potter, only had one child. I’m not gonna lie it sucks knowing that there are very few people that know I exist but that also means I don’t have to worry about everyone talking about me. I’ve seen what it does to Harry, the constant pestering, and asking to see his scar. It is a lot for him to handle, so I guess I am kind of glad that I don’t have to deal with that.

Living with Uncle Sirius had its ups and downs too. I loved him because he was one of the few people I had left but he did tend to overlook me too. It was something about how Harry looked so much like our dad that Uncle Sirius would get distracted and lost in the memories of the good old days. Back when he had all of his friends around him and did not have so many burdens. Not that he ever saw Harry or me as a burden but raising two kids is a handful. I know he still loves me just as much as Harry but sometimes I can tell he just prefers to spend time with Harry.

While I was overlooked at home and in public I hoped that it would change when I finally went to Hogwarts. This was my chance to finally be someone. To have my own friends and someone to talk to. The day had finally come I was off to finally start my schooling. I felt the nerves bubbling inside of me as the platform approached. Harry and Uncle Sirius stopped in front of an unmarked pillar between platforms nine and ten.

“Okay, so we just run through here and then our platform will be on the other side,” Harry tells me. I give him a nervous smile before turning my gaze back towards the wall.

Uncle Sirius had our cart with our trunks and Harry’s pet owl stacked on top. He decided to take the lead and run through first. Watching him make it through safety had reassured me but I still felt my nerves running wild. As Harry made a move to enter the platform I grabbed his hand. With a slight squeeze of my hand, he took off towards the wall. We both made it to the other side and a smile broke out on my face. I was finally doing it, I was going to Hogwarts.

However, my smile faded as Harry dropped my hand in favor of going to meet up with his friends. I know that he didn’t mean to leave me behind, that he was just excited to finally see his friends but it stung. My brother had left me to figure out this on my own. Much like the rest of my life, I would be doing this alone.

I waited next to Uncle Sirius until Harry finally came back to say goodbye. I followed his lead and soon enough I was following him onto the Hogwarts Express. He had rejoined his friends and they were chatting away as I trailed behind. Soon enough they ducked into a cabin that was already filled with a few other students. I stood by the doorway for a moment and noticed that there would not be a seat for me so I nodded to Harry and made my way down the hallway.

I stepped into the nearest empty cabin and pulled out a book. I let the words pull me from my sadness of the first day of school. I let the story wash away my anger towards my brother for leaving me to handle myself again. Before I knew it I was whisked away into a new world where I could feel happy and included.

I pulled myself away from the book as someone sat down across from me. She appeared to be around my age and had striking blonde hair and a faraway look in her eyes.

Whispering slightly she introduced herself, “Hello, I’m Luna.”

I introduced myself and before I knew it she was in her own world again. I turned back towards the book set in my lap and indulged in the thrilling pages once more. It wasn’t long into the trip when Luna spoke up once more.

“I’m quite excited for my first year. I do reckon it’ll be much fun.” Her eyes never left the window but I didn’t mind. It was nice to have someone to talk to for once. Most of the time at home I’d sat idly by listening to Harry and Uncle Sirius talk and never giving any real input.

“I’m a first-year too, I hope I’ll be able to make some friends.” I confide in her. As the words leave my mouth she turns to me. Her stormy gray eyes meet mine and she wrinkles her forehead.

“But I believe you’ve already made one. And if I’m not mistaken your last name implies that you are related to Harry Potter so you have him too. Don’t you?” Her voice is light and airy and it makes me feel dumb for thinking I wouldn’t make any friends.

“Thank you, Luna,” I say.

She looks even more confused, “What for?” She asks.

“For being someone to talk to and for being a friend.”

“Well, you can always talk to me as long as the pesky nargles don’t take up all my time.”

“Nargles?” I ask. The word sounds strange and I can’t even begin to imagine what strange magical creature they might be. However, before I can dwell on it too long she’s started telling me all about them.

The train ride ends faster than I expect and as we all head towards the castle Luna stops once more. This time in front of the carriages. She reaches up and places her hand in the empty space in front of it. When I realize that she is no longer walking with me I turn.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Can’t you see them? They’re beautiful.” She whispers.

“What are you talking about there’s nothing there.” I watch Harry and his friends pass us and he shoots me a questioning look. I shrug in response before turning back to my friend. My friend what a weird thing to be able to say. It brought a smile to my face to think that I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore. Not that I was ever that lonely, but now I can talk to someone. I can have a deep meaningful conversation with someone and not feel as if I am wasting their time.

“I wish you could see them.” She says before turning and catching up to me.

“Why do you think you can see them and I can’t?” I ask while trying to see if I can make out where my brother is among the crowds of students.

“I believe I’ve read about them before. I think they are called thestrals. From what I remember only those who have witnessed death can see them.” She tugs at her earring a little before turning towards me. She gives me a look and I can tell she knows what I am going to ask.

So I state it simply, “Who?” It almost feels wrong to be asking such a personal question so soon.

“My mother, I don’t remember much since I was young.”

“I guess we are in the same boat then.” I joke trying to lighten the mood. She cracks a small smile and we spend the rest of the trip up to the castle in silence.

After the sorting ceremony, Luna seems to appear out of nowhere. She grabs my arm and spins me around to face her. The smile on her face is the largest I’ve seen from her.

“We’re both in the same house, new friend.” She says the last part in an almost mocking way which makes me laugh. My words from earlier seem so ridiculous now.

“I can’t believe it. I hope my family isn’t upset. My parents, uncle, and brother are all in Gryffindor.”

“Don’t be silly it doesn’t matter. And besides, at least it isn’t Slytherin.” She grabs my arm and leads me towards the Ravenclaw common room.

Before we can make it out of the great hall another hand is grabbing at my arm. This time it is Harry. His friends are no longer following him.

“I’m so proud of you little sis. I know it’s not Gryffindor but at least you’re not in Slytherin.”

“Hey, that’s exactly what Luna said you would say.” I laugh.

“I know you’re gonna do great. You’re so smart and are capable of anything.” His words make me smile wider and my cheeks start to hurt.

“Thanks, it’s so nice to finally hear someone say that.” I know I should be riding out my happiness but I can’t help let one little jab slid in.

The smile falls off his face and he looks at me. He wraps one arm around my shoulder and pulls me into him. I watch Luna walk-off to give us some space.

“I know I was a pretty awful brother but now that you're here I promise I will spend more time with you. It’ll finally be just you and me for once.” I like the sound of it but I know it won’t last long.

“It would be nice to finally spend some time with you,” I say.

“Plus my friend Ron has a little sister who is a first-year too. I think you would like her.” He bumps my shoulder and I give a small shrug.

“Maybe,” I say.

“Just meet her and see if you hit it off. And if you do then we would get to spend even more time together since our friend groups will overlap.” His smile is dorky and I can’t help but laugh at him.

“You’re the only one that I know who thinks about things like that. It was nice talking to you big bro but I gotta go find Luna.” I give him a wave and head off in the direction of the common room.

I find Luna sitting on one of the chairs near the fire starring off in the distance once more. It’s a usual occurrence to find her lost in her own thoughts. Sitting down next to her I let my thoughts wash over me as well. I finally feel happy with life. I’m in a new place with new people. I’ve already made a friend, plus a possible new one, and Harry is talking to me more. Maybe Hogwarts was what I needed all along. It finally gave me a place where I felt like I belonged. It’s the new start I needed and I know this is bound to be a great first year of school.

[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and the ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 9 of 21

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Daring Do

and the Adventure of the X'ibian Vase!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

And

Carmen Pondiego

Cover Art by

Doctor Dimension

52630 words

© 2015 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 08/26/15

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge.  I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images provided that I receive a copy of each image for my archive. 

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Jeremy had out a small telescope and was scanning the shore as the Sea Sage and her escort river monitor pulled into the channel leading to the Dunn See.  He was focusing on the dock that should have been theirs.  Cranes aboard the motor ship were lowering modern looking motor trucks to the dock.

They had no trouble getting the trucks to the dock.  It was the other cargo that was already unloaded that was the problem.  There was no room for the trucks to get clear of the dock.

Jeremy was chuckling as he watched a pony from the ship stride confidently up to the Longshore Pony in charge, a bulging sack in hoof.

There was an altercation.  The dockworkers began to shift the cargo about so that as much was moved to a warehouse as possible while still blocking the trucks from moving.

As their position blocked the view, Soree, standing beside Jeremy, and using field glasses, said, “I can tell by how you chuckled, that you were expecting something like that.  Why?”

Without hesitation, Jeremy said, “I was given lessons last night in the etiquette of bribery and some other issues of courtesy.  Especially of the bowing.

“I was dead wrong about everything.  Qushi Han Le set me straight on it.  I got my first practical lesson by watching Mister Overthrow try to bribe the Dockworkers.

“He started off by not bowing at all.  That is bad.  Then he publicly asked the lead pony to name his price!  That finished THAT.  There is courtesy involved.  ROT seems really short of it.  Even shorter than I was!”

Daring Do had silently joined them.  “That is for sure.  So, Qushi paid you a visit?”

“Yes.  I am alive right now because of you, Doctor Do.  She could have killed me herself and let me know it.  She spared me because she respects you and, by bringing me along, you showed her that you valued me.

“Instead of killing me, she taught me about bribes and bowing.  It put a lot of what you recommended for reading into sharp perspective.”

The busy shoreline and waters of the port were falling behind, to be replaced by the busy waterfront of the residential parts of Singapone.  The shipping channel was clear of any but the proper river cargo traffic but over in the shallows by the many homes and estates of the well to do, was what appeared to be a mad house of dinghies, sampans and other craft too numerous and tightly packed to sort out.

Soree was having delightful time sketching and writing in her journal.  “Look!  The ponies that live near the water don’t have to go shopping!  Those boats are ALL selling things!”

Jeremy watched with wonder as a rickety dock crowded with buyers was swarmed about with small boats selling everything from seaweeds, hay and grain from up river, to fish, crafts, pots and pans and other goods beyond number.

His eye now alerted to the courtesy issues, Jeremy saw how a boat with the goods that a buyer wanted was signaled for and a bow offered at the same time.

Daring Do looked on and listened as he muttered, “I see.  Wave is I want you, bow is for respect to merchant.   Return bow recognizes and pays respect to the buyer.  It all flows from that.”

Daring Do nodded agreement and said, “Soree, are you following what Jeremy is pointing out?  This is important to know.”

Soree held up her pen and replied, “What Qushi Han Le  thought important enough to teach in that way, I have been recording most carefully.”

Jeremy paused, embarrassed.

The Sea Sage forged on up river accompanied by the iron clad river monitor with its massive, slope sided turrets carrying two guns each.  Jeremy pointed to the characters painted on its bow and stern.  “Do those really mean 'Flower of Peace?'” he asked, incredulously.  

Soree looked up from her latest sketch and nodded.  “They really do mean that.  Peaceful Flower would be a good reading too.  It is an example of the Chineighese ironic thought.”

Daring Do looked on with a smile, proud of her students and their developing skills.  Down close to the water’s edge, there was a road.  That drew Soree’s eye.  “If there is a road, wouldn’t it be faster to take it rather than ride the ship up stream?”

Daring Do smiled almost evilly as she replied, “If you were from Equestria, where roads are the main transportation arteries, you might think so.  Those roads are for river bank maintenance and for salvage gear transport in the event of a river or canal accident.

“The Chineighese Empire is held together by the most modern and advanced system of river, canal and railroad transport that I am aware of.”  She made a fluttering gesture with her hoof.  “Roads, except near cities, not so much. They only feed the harvest, mine and factory goods to the canals and railroads.

“I suspect that ROT will be finding out all about that, really soon.”

Her brows drawn down in vee of thought and concentration, Soree asked, “Why would they make a blunder like that?  Your book on the Darkling Expedition and your official reports make it clear that you really couldn’t manage with modern trucks.”

Daring Do tried and failed to look innocent as she stared over the rail at the road along the shoreline.  “It MIGHT have something to do with the expedition proposal that I gave them as part of the negotiations before we agreed to disagree.”

Lights dawned in the expressions of both Jeremy and Soree.  With a giggle, Soree put it into words. “You knew that you weren’t going to work for them so you set them up!”

A quiet nod was her only answer.

Jeremy was watching the shoreline scene more carefully now.  “Look!  There are the trucks of the ROT expedition!  They are going to pass us really soon.  What will slow them down?”

Soree pointed ahead a fair ways up river, where a canal came down through a lock to the river.  The bridge, at the lock, was a high, steeply arched affair.  They could all see foot traffic crossing the bridge in both directions.

While they watched, a cart rose up from the far side of the bridge and descended slowly to the road by the canal.  There, a pair of Chineighese ponies in flat, conical hats, hitched to it and pulled it to a waiting warehouse.  While they were doing that, another, seemingly identical cart came across the bridge.  It too, was pulled to the warehouse.  

Jeremy, watching closely, pointed out, “There is a rail spur leading to the warehouse!”

Soree retorted, “I am more interested in how those carts are crossing the bridge without anypony pulling them!”

That was answered as the Sea Sage drew nearer to the lock.  Alongside the canal was a heavy water mill that was driving the the cargo moving mechanism.  A cart was pulled from where the canal boat was being unloaded.  The ponies pulling it hauled it into guides and unhitched.  The mechanism, driven by the water mill, snagged the cart and carried it up and over the steep arch of the bridge to similar guides that freed the cart to be hauled away.

Suddenly Jeremy brayed laughter. “That bridge isn’t made for trucks at all!”

That simple prophecy was borne out by the arrival of ROT’s trucks.  There was nothing that those on the ship could hear, but plenty to see!  The swarm of ponies in their flat conical straw hats, the obviously important lock officials and the drivers of the trucks all in a right tangle!

The mess disappeared astern as the small convoy sailed serenely upriver!  Dining on the afterdeck later, Jeremy snorted his amusement.  “If their bribing skills are as good as they were at the dock, they are still going to be there tomorrow!”

Soree giggled at the memory of the trucks being neatly blocked by cargo.

Nearly to the busy river port of Cantrot the Flower of Peace suddenly accelerated!  A steam siren blasting for emergency right of way, the iron clad roared upriver, her wake smashing in waves on the shore and putting smaller craft at risk.

The Sea Sage was being pulled into her dock when the echoing reports of heavy gunfire came rolling faintly back downriver.   Emergency boats, that always had steam up, blasted a cacophony of warning whistles and cast off, charging up river toward the sounds of battle.

The port went about its business as if nothing was happening.

The Sea Sage safely secured to the dock, Daring Do led the way down the gangplank and into a port office.

Jeremy and Soree were watching curiously as Daring Do approached the official behind the desk.  She bowed the bow of equals as she offered, “Good sir, while I do know that we must pay the proper fees for our port clearance and further travel permits, I would first ask your assistance.”  She hoofed over a golden cash and the first few of a substantial sheaf of papers.  “I have learned that wherever paper work is involved, there are subtleties that one such as myself does not grasp.  What I would have of your great experience, is to explain these to me in detail so that I make no error of ignorance in the future.”

Smiling broadly, he gave a small duck of his head and began.  He laid out the papers before him on the shabby desk blotter and began to go through them in detail.  

Each new batch of papers was preceded by its coin.  At the end of the exchange, the official smiled up at Soree and Jeremy and asked, “I hope that the lesson given you by Doctor Do was well learned?”

Surprised, but having had a powerful lesson already, Jeremy bowed deeply from the waist, and Soree, seeing him do so, did herself.  “We did learn well, good Port Master.  You were a teacher of excellent wisdom.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

<==Previous   Next==>

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[seekmywayout]

read you like a book

Koi wo Shiranai Bokutachi wa Ikezawa Mizuho/Aihara Eiji

Word Count: 1,579

-

He’s late again, she thinks to herself as her gaze unconsciously moves towards the library door. She’s lost count of how many times her eyes have flitted away from her responsibilities and towards the entrance instead; half expecting, half hoping to see a familiar face.

She doesn’t want to say, but she wants to see him.

Even if it’s for only a short while, she wants to see him.

As if on cue, the door slides open.

She tries to look nonchalant.

“You’re late,” she says matter-of-factly as he strides across the room, his backpack casually slung over his shoulder. He sets it on the ground in the corner of the room before approaching her. She continues, “And I was thinking you were getting better at being more punctual.”

“Oh, but I am getting better,” he replies. “I hate to admit it, but ‘library duty’ is getting ingrained in my mind now.”

She raises a single brow. “Yet you were still late.”

“Okay, I was already on my way home but something felt a little off, like I was forgetting something,” he explains to her. He stops himself for a second.

“Thought I left something behind for a moment, but then I remembered the library committee. And then I remembered you were also glaring at me earlier today.” He fakes a shudder. “So it must’ve been library duty.”

She feels her cheeks flush. “I was not glaring.”

But she can’t deny that maybe she did steal a glance or two at him during class.

“Well, even if I’m a little late, at least I’m here now,” he proclaims. “So, what’re we doing today?”

“I’ve been working on putting away the shipment of new books,” she states, pointing at her cart of books. She gestures towards another cart next to hers. “This is the ‘Return’ pile. Would you?”

He rolls up his sleeves and starts thumbing over book spines. “Sure, sure.”

They fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence as they begin their work. She puts away several non-fiction books, making a mental note in her mind of the ones that seemed useful. A first peek into new arrivals was the primary benefit of library duty, really. She suspects he may feel similarly.

It’s a comfortable silence, yet she unabashedly wants more.

“I was reading Duma Key the other day,” she brings herself to say, gaze moving towards him. 

He looks up at her, prompted by the sound of her voice, and she sees his eyes light up. “For real? You? The one by Stephen King?”

She lets out a quiet huff in response. “Yes, the one by Stephen King. I thought I would give it a try. It is… different from a lot of the other novels I’ve read, but it’s good. Terrifying, yet gripping.”

“Right? He really is the king of suspense,” he concurs. “So hard to put one of his books down once you start.”

She finds herself nodding in agreement. “I stayed up longer than I was planning to last night because of it.”

He laughs then, and she tries not to let the sound distract her too much from their conversation. “His writing does that to you. Ah, yeah, Ikezawa—kind of related, I mentioned to you before that I read A Tale of Two Cities recently, right?”

Suddenly, she feels warm. “Yes, you did.”

“Uh, since classic literature is more your thing, I was wondering if you had any recommendations for something similar?” he asks. His right hand moves to scratch the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s usually not what I read but A Tale of Two Cities was actually pretty good. Maybe there’s more out there that I’m missing.”

She doesn’t disagree with that sentiment—it’s part of the reason why she chose to read Duma Key herself. She doesn’t necessarily want to say the other part.

With his request in mind, she brings a hand to her chin and takes a moment to ponder. 

“Maybe Great Expectations or Bleak House. They are both also written by Charles Dickens. Crime and Punishment might be another one you’ll like. The author is…” She pauses. “I’ve forgotten his name; it was something Russian.”

“Oh,” he hums. “Crime and Punishment sounds interesting.”

“Ah, it’s a really fascinating character study that pulls you deep into the mind of the main character. I actually saw it earlier in the ‘Return’ pile if you’re interested in it.” She points towards his trolley of books.

“Yeah, it sounds like it’d be a good read,” he readily agrees, his attention turning to the stack of books.

As he says those words, she reaches forwards, trying to help him find the novel. She notices his own hands moving through the pile, so close to hers.

What if, she thinks, our hands touched?

It will be something straight out of a shoujo manga, she supposes. Not that she’s read many, but the few she’s flipped through at the recommendation of her classmates had similar such scenes.

Fingers touching, cheeks flushed, stolen glances…

Then they would sneak a whispered kiss, hidden away behind bookshelves, away from the prying eyes of fellow library committee members.

It would be their secret—soft and sweet and heart-wrenching.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks suddenly, face turned towards her.

His voice breaks her out of her thoughts and she’s nothing short of scandalized at how overactive her imagination has become.

She clears her throat and attempts to sound unperturbed as she answers, “Yes, I’m fine.”

I’m not fine.

He cocks an eyebrow at her and she tries not to think too much about the genuine concern that crosses his features, or how their fingers never actually touched. She quietly wishes they had. “You sure? You just kinda froze for a bit; had a funny look on your face, to be honest.”

“That’s just my face,” she instinctively snaps. He startles slightly and she bites her tongue. He has no ill intent, she knows.

“Yes, I’m sure; I’m fine,” she says again, consciously changing her tone. “But thank you for your concern, Aihara.”

I’m not fine, not normal. Not when he looks at her like that. Not when her heart beats so fast there’s no way that it’s natural. Not when her mind drifts so easily towards thoughts of him, of him and her.

“Well, anyway, I found the book.” He holds it up to show her and starts leafing through the pages. “Thanks for the recommendation!”

She watches as he flips to the beginning of the novel and skims through the text. He mouths the words to himself silently as he reads; she especially likes the way his teeth catch on his lower lip as he does so. 

“Solid start,” he says eventually, before closing the book and setting it aside. “Thanks a ton, Ikezawa.”

He looks up then, and their eyes meet. She abruptly turns her head away.

I was staring at him again, she realizes. But it’s hard not to.

“... I hope you’ll enjoy it,” she responds, her voice softer than she intended it to be. He gives her a crooked smile in return and looks back towards the mountain of books that still need to be sorted. Quietly, she follows suit.

It’s hard not to stare when he gives her those smiles.

It’s hard not to stare when she doesn’t know what to do with the rapid beating of her heart.

It’s hard not to stare when she wants him to look at her too.

And maybe he’s not suited for love after all, as he says, but she’ll wait. She’ll wait because not too long ago, she wasn’t either. Now, she lets the feeling slowly bloom in her chest, cherishes the warmth that spreads throughout her body at the sight of him, and the bursts of happiness that erupt whenever he smiles in her direction.

But, she doesn’t know what to do or how to act around him.

She hasn’t felt this confused about something since she first read Ulysses and found herself grappling against the literary behemoth.

If only she could read him like a book, she thinks. Sometimes, she feels like she still hasn’t got past the cover.

She wonders instead if she is easy to read—if her face betrays every emotion, spoils every hidden plot twist within her heart.

She wonders how her story will unfold.

“You know, Aihara,” she speaks up, “there’s another story that I’m interested in.”

They both look up at each other while their hands continue to fumble through their book sorting duty.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” he asks, sincerely.

It’s cute. She finds herself inwardly cursing her small crush on Hugh Jackman. 

“Is it another Charles Dickens?” he guesses.

She shakes her head. “No, this story hasn’t started yet.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” he questions with a slight tilt of his head.

She feels an uncharacteristically soft, girlish giggle bubble to her lips. “I’ll tell you, but not today. Some other day.”

He crosses his arms to his chest and a contemplative frown forms on his lips. It’s quiet for a moment as she watches him, wondering what he’ll say to her, then he flashes her a lopsided grin. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that, Ikezawa.”

“And I’ll let you,” she says without missing a beat.

He blinks.

Then, he beams, “I’m looking forward to it!”

She finds herself smiling back naturally, because—

It will be the beginning of their story.

-

a/n:

set in an AU where I can be happy. I didn’t think too much about timelines but it’d probably fit somewhere before her confession ig

this fic is for all the Ikezawa fans out there, all 5 of us. Also I wish I could’ve written them in like… an actual relationship but that’s legitimately not my writing style for the most part lol. Maybe I could try again another time. 

...I actually have not read a single book I mentioned in this story LOL

also I may end up posting this to ao3 later and de-anon myself but w/e, it’s nothing i haven’t done before tbh.

[selphiahaven]

Selphia Haven: How it Began

Just over a year ago, I decided to make Selphia Haven. I would like to believe most blogs are made just for fun, or in order to show support and love for a special niche.

This blog was originally made for a different purpose.

Please note that my story may hold some triggering subjects for people. Please read at your own risk.

It was February of last year when I realized I had depression, but the seeds of it started to plant a lot earlier. For example, I think the hopelessness in my life started around the time that the Charlottesville white nationalist protest was being covered. News stories like this are shocking, and unbelievably scary, for a young adult who is trying to find their way in life.

I had always tried to desperately hold onto the belief that everyone, everywhere, can love and care for each other if they are either given the right knowledge or the right opportunities. I had originally picked up this belief as a child, and wanted to grow up to become a writer who would share stories with kind messages. I pursued a passion for writing all the way up until university, wherein I discovered psychology. My area of focus switched from becoming a writer to becoming a counsellor. I was going to help people, to become someone that could help manifest hope and love within people who had lost their way.

News stories like white nationalism, and similar hateful topics, made that hope slowly slip away from my fingers.

It was a slow fall. I don't remember what happened, exactly, between the Charlottesville protests and February of last year that really wore down my hope. But, by the time the Parkland school shooting happened, all that hope disappeared. The last shred of my love for the world was gone.

What are you supposed to do in life when all this terrible, terrible stuff happens in places that you cannot directly impact? Things far worse than you can imagine, to people far younger than you might think. Watching on a TV screen, you can distance yourself; pretend it doesn't happen. But you know. You know that these terrible things are someone's reality. Someone, somewhere, has to deal with each and every one of these realities that pop up on our news stations. And you can do nothing to help it.

I didn't do much from February onwards. I ate. I slept. I still went to school and worked. But it was...robotic? Everything just kind of happened. Nothing held purpose or meaning. Assignments were just assignments. Work was just work. Food was just food. And sleep was never enough.

My love for my future career was gone. I no longer wanted to be a counsellor, because I couldn't bear to deal with it. I couldn't bear to think that I would be facing these realities every single day—talking with people who had gone through losses of loved ones, suicide attempts, rape, abuse, and so much more—and yet could not provide a source of hope for them. How do you find hope for others when there are stories out there that tell us that everything bad is still happening, right now, right here, in this moment? I could be murdered next week by simply being in the wrong supermarket when a terrorist walks in and starts shooting.

I hadn't exactly contemplated suicide. Another belief I held on to was that, no matter what happens, every step alive is still a step in a growing direction. I would not commit suicide; but I was starting to think about it a lot more. For example: What it would be like to die. And, well, how long it would take for this belief to slip from my fingers just as quietly as my previous belief on the love in the world did. How long would it be before I actually started contemplating it. How long would it be before I actually committed it. What would it take for me to believe that death would be the "best option."

What got me moving wasn't through some miraculous determination. It was fear. I didn't want to die— It scared me to even be thinking about it. I still loved things in this world. My family. My friends. I actually did like school, and though I had been viewing my schoolwork at this time a mostly assignments, I did want to continue learning about the mysteries behind psychology. It was more than just the big things, there were also simple things I wanted to live for. I love ice cream. I love the smell of vanilla. I love the feel of the sun. I love the feel of the rain too, actually, and you can't feel these things, smell these things, taste these things when you're dead.

I wanted to stay alive. I wanted to still laugh at things. I had more funny videos I wanted to watch. More books I wanted to read. There are things in this world that I haven't even heard of yet that I want to stay for and experience in the future. I wanted to write. Oh my god, I wanted to write so much. I would write without end when I was in high school, but gave it up when I started pursuing psychology. I never got back to it because I felt I wasn't good enough, but I still wanted to do it.

All these lovely things that I wanted to do, and see, and experience...

But no effort to give.

I was tired, always. Constantly. My motivation to do anything outside of "the mandatory" (School, work, etc.) was nonexistent. I wanted to write, but every sentence I wrote looked ugly, or wrong, or faulty in some way. I wanted to go out for walks, but I also didn't want to get up and out of my room. I wasn't confident in anything I did; including the things I did at school and work.

I just needed something though. I wanted to do something. Anything.

I didn't start Tumblr for Selphia Haven specifically; I started it to look at funny pictures of animals (see also: an escape from reality). But it seemed like an inviting website to find...something to do on it. It wasn't limiting like on Twitter where I could only have, like, one blog per email. Tumblr gives the opportunity to try many different blogs, if you choose to pursue many different niches.

So, something small, then. I wanted to do something small. Not something meaningful; just something that would motivate me to get out of bed and do...something outside of the mandatory. It was here that I discovered something that seemed easy enough: incorrect quote blogs. In fact, I was so interested in hearing random, funny quotes that I even follow blogs for fandoms I have never seen anything from (eg. Voltron, Harry Potter, Mystic Messenger).

RF4 wasn't my first stop, but seeing as Pandora Hearts and Vanitas no Carte already had frequently updating incorrect quotes blogs, I had to find some other fandom that didn't quite have an incorrect quote blog yet. And... Well, Rune Factory did have one before I started. @overheard-at-selphia existed a few months before I walked in. However, they seemed to only be updating maybe once or twice a month. I thought for a day about whether they might be open to sharing the spotlight with me. Then, I decided that, what the hell, I'll just do it and if they aren't a fan of it, they can always just message me and tell me to shut up.

(I still follow @overheard-at-selphia too. They still update sometimes. It makes me happy.)

On June 14th, 2018, I made my first awkward post.

I made a commitment to myself then: I would make 5 posts a day. They were easy enough to make (this was, of course, before I started adding images) so this kind of goal was realistic for me. Also, I was in the heat of summer, so I didn't have schoolwork to worry about. The queue system still saves me to this day; I don't need to worry when I know I have a busy week coming up, because I can just fill it up when I have effort, and then let it run on my "off days".

Small motivations included just a handful of notes per post, and a handful of followers that gave me incentive to continue moving. Followers meant that people were relying on me to continue making posts. I couldn't just stop without reason; this little project was my own, but I created it to be my own meaningful "mandatory project".

Five little posts a day. Gradually, gradually, gradually, I discovered some courage to try something new. I created the picture incorrect quotes through a small burst of motivation in November, and the results had been astounding. I went from getting maybe 10 notes per post (If I was lucky) to around 20-50 notes per post. And that's not even counting this fukkin monster of a post that exploded straight outta nowhere.

Three posts a day. Gradually, gradually, gradually, I discovered some new courage. Gradually, gradually, gradually, I started writing again. Gradually, gradually, I wrote something. I finished writing something. I actually posted something I wrote; just over one year of Selphia Haven's existence.

I'd love to be able to say life is better now, but I can't really say that for certain. I'm not really sure if things will be okay, and I can't make promises about life when news stories are just as depressing as they have ever been. I have no grand answers for the mysteries that plague our existence; why are we alive and what's the point in all this. And, really, none of the problems that caused my depression have really been "solved" (I still don't want to be a counsellor anymore and I haven't found a different career path yet, for example).

But...I dunno. I'm enjoying this. Making Selphia Haven. It may not be a grand, exuberant show that's going to cure depression or save the children or give starving people food, but... It's my little effort. It's my little attempt at making a bit of light. A little bit of laughter in this dark world. I think we all need that— A little bit of something that gives us light. For me, that was creating Selphia Haven. Making a little effort of my own to (hopefully) make someone smile— Even if it's just a little smile. If my existence on this Earth is just to bring a small smile to your face, well... I guess that makes it worth it for me to continue, right?

That's why I'm so eager to promote any kinds of Rune Factory blogs you guys make, actually. It was me gaining those first few followers that motivated me to continue my first small steps... Gradually, gradually, gradually, I hope that those who start small can grow into something larger too. That people have something small that they can love, or create, or follow along with.

But, I also realize that, you know, not everyone experiences depression in the same way, right? My depression was helped because I had something small I could do every day. No story is the same; but I hope that if you do want to try out making a blog like mine, you will allow me to advertise it for you.

This...maybe isn't a super uplifting story, but hey. It's my story, and it seems to be working out for me so far. I'm happy with it. I'm happy that I'm writing again. And I'm going to continue making gradual steps towards the future too, which might lead me to something bigger. Who knows.

...But I hope I can finish Castle to the West, at least. Writing that story makes me really happy. So... I guess I hope you all continue your small steps to find that thing that makes you happy too. And if you need help, please ask for help! I’d be happy to give you my support!

[shewolfofficial]

First of all, *inhales* I LOVE YOUR BLOG AND YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!! And also, can you write a scenario where Hanji, Y/n and the Yaegerists find Levi? Then, when Floche says to shoot Levi, Y/n goes god-mode on him? (What happens next is your choice :3 ). Love ya 💕!

*Inhales as well* ThANK YOu SO MuCH YOuR sO SWEeT AND KInD!! 😘😘😁😁😁

It’s 1:05am when I finished the this, pls excuse any mistakes or typos since I am currently half asleep

Warning: Cursing, Mentions Of Blood, Violence

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

Rain pouring from the dark sky above I kept my hood up as I rode alongside Hanji, Floche and a few others surrounding us as we rode over a bridge by a river. There had been a lightning strike that went off in the distance and now we were going to check it out to see what was going on.

Finally arriving at the scene there seemed to be a titan laying on its stomach with steam emitting from it, was it dead? Was it alive? What was it even doing?

“What the fuck has happened?” I mumble slowly hopping off my horse as Hanji takes a step closer to the titan. “Commander Hanji! F/N please don’t move around on your own!” someone calls out from behind me, not bothering to turn around and see who the fuck was yapping I trail my gaze along the grass. As I hear Hanji mumble something about the cart being blown away.

Sight landing on something, well, someone right by the river I feel the blood drain from my face. “Somebodies there!” I say out loud running to whoever it was, falling to my knees I attempt to haul the person out. Hanji arrives next to me and takes over, successfully pulling out the unknown person from the sideline of the river. Turning them over to get a full view of who it was.

Oh, how I wished I didn’t have to ever see this..

“Levi?”

“Oh no.. Oh nononono! Levi no!”

“I have no idea what happened.. But we’re lucky, our number one threat is here bloodied up..” Floche says appearing behind us as I choke on the sobs looking at the bloodied and scratched up face of my lover. Hanji had a plain expression as she held him up. “He’s dead. He got caught in the explosion of a thunder spear at point blank range, I’ve seen similar accidents during training but beyond external wounds, internal organs would be ripped to shreds and death would be instant” she explains looking back to the male as he held his gun with a cold expression.

“I can also take his pulse, so let me have a look” Floche ignores her seeming to try and check for himself, though, I knew what Hanji was up to since she shot me a little wink and a slight smirk. Averting my gaze to Floche I shot him a glare “why don’t you believe her! He’s- He’s dead!” I cry out attempting to convince him as he only sighs. “F/N don’t start crying, we get that you love the guy but don’t start crying over him” he grumbles as I start to feel my patience lessen.

hoW DARE HE!?

“He might not be dead, I might as well shoot him in the head”

Snap!

The sound of something snapping inside of me sent an unhuman like adrenaline through me as I sprung up and swiftly grabbed Floche’s gun from him, yelling at Hanji to escape, which she hurriedly did since a splash was heard a few seconds later I begin to dodge and swerve the multiple bullets fired at me from those Yeager bastards as I knock out Floche with the butt of the gun, tossing the weapon to the side all I could feel was rage and adrenaline soaring through my veins.

Jumping at another I slam him onto the ground and take hold of his head and twist it to the definite angle to snap his neck. A loud crack echoed through the air as curses and shouts were thrown about as I dodged every bullet that came at me, springing towards another shithead I kick him in the balls, taking his gun I shot him in the head and continued with the others, skidding across the fortunately wet ground I slide out another guy’s feet from under him and kick him into the river sending him into a frenzy as he thrashed about in the water. Standing up I aim the gun at the man and shoot immediately seeing him go limp. Ducking under another’s attempt to strangle me he falls forward as I easily shot him in the chest.

Turning around there was only two remaining and they both had their barrels cocked towards me.

“F/N p-put down the weapon!”

“Say please~!”

“N-No!”

“Tsk wrong answer you prick” I grumble sidestepping a bullet that skimmed my head watching as the pair’s faces turned into ones full of horror. Striding towards them I kick one in the balls and shoot the other in the face completely destroying it.

Shoving the last one to the ground I press the barrel of the gun to his forehead as he begins to plead, rolling my eyes I pull the trigger as blood splatters everywhere.

Turning to the side where an unconscious Floche lay I shot the guy a glare as I walked towards him singing a little tune quietly. Arriving at the male’s side I look down at him with an irritated expression before I loosely aim the weapon to his legs. Firing both shots at his knees the bullets completely shatter his kneecaps.

“Meh.. Whatever... They asked for it.. Never knew I could take out a whole squad of men..” I say strutting past the titan corpse ignoring the fact that it could be alive.

// Time Skip \

It’s been a few days since I set off at the side of the river, the weather was nice yet my clothes were shit and I really wanted to get a nice warm bath. I could see a little building up ahead at the opposite side of the river, thankfully the flow has calmed and it would be easy to get through. But there was a little bridge up ahead so I might as well stay dry while I’m at it.

Crossing the stone bridge I stroll towards the farm, it looked nice and friendly but god knows who could own it really. Stepping up onto the porch I recognise a fairly familiar face..

Historia.

Oh yeah, I forgot she was pregnant.

“F/N? What are you doing here? Are you alright?” the blonde asks standing up as I smile a little and take her into a gentle hug despite the situation with my clothes. “Yeah I’m fine, have you seen... Hanji or Levi near here by any chance? Oh! Can I stay here for a bit to wash up? I’ve just after taking out the trash a few days ago and I really need a wash” I ask as she laughs inwardly and nods motioning for me to follow her. “Of course F/N, and yes I’ve seen Hanji and Captain Levi, they’re both here while Levi recovers” she explains as we step inside.

Hanji peeps around the corner from some other room and she lights up seeing me. “F/N where have you been!? How did you find this place? Are you alright?” the woman asks scurrying over to me as I roll my eyes at her playfully “yeah I’m alright Hanji, more importantly, where is Levi? Is he alright? Is he alive?” I ask as he sighs lightly immediately causing me to panic. Stepping in after seeing me begin to panic Historia places a hand on my shoulder “he’s fine, he’s alive but with some scars and marks, I’m sure he’s awake up there now since he was down here for breakfast earlier” she spoke softly as I release a breath I never knew I was holding in.

“Alright... Thank the fuck..” I smile lightly as Hanji disappears off somewhere into the house, Historia was leading me to the bathroom where I could get a shower and wash up while she got me some spare clothes. Following the blonde up the stairs, we reach the second floor to her home where we walked in a comfortable silence, abruptly stopping outside a random white door that was creaked open ever so slightly she leant up towards my ear and cupped it.

“He’s in there..”

Nodding I smiled at the woman before we continued on, eventually arriving at the bathroom Historia leaves to get me some clothes and tell Levi I had arrived.

// Time Skip \

Drying off and getting into the change of clothes that fit perfectly I threw my dirty outfit into the laundry basket and sauntered out of the bathroom. Attempting to count the doors and which one Levi was resting behind I eventually begun to do eenie-meenie-miney-moh with each one. Childish. Yes, but it did help sometimes.

Sometimes.

Carefully opening a random door I let my gaze wander to a certain raven haired male that sat up in bed holding a book. Flicking his head up towards the door Levi’s face lit up from seeing me as he tossed the book to his side, as I hurried on in and took him in a hug.

“You’re alright! Oh my lord, you gave me the fright of my life mister!” I say as Levi dives his face into the crook of my neck. “I know, I know..” he mumbles. Pulling away that’s when I saw the scars on his face, he has even gone blind in his right eye by the looks of it as well as I paled.

I’m definitely gonna kill whoever did this.

“Who did this to you? Levi I’m going to fucking strangle them” I hiss as Levi scowls “I knew you wouldn’t like them..” he mumbles as my face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait what? What do you mean? I never said I didn’t like them” I was quick to defend myself as Levi sighs and sits back averting his orbs elsewhere in the room.

“I only want to hurt who done this to you… I never said anything about you, in fact, I think these make you hotter” I couldn’t help the tingling blush creep up to my cheeks as Levi examines me to see if I was lying in any way.

I wasn’t.

Rolling his eyes he clicks his tongue and pulls me into his chest, careful not to hurt himself as I wrap my arms around them. “So it’s all looks for you?” he begins as I scoff “damn I never thought you’d see me as that type of girl, should I be offended?” I retort as he pulls me closer. “No, I was only fucking with you” Levi hums as I snuggle into his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

“I missed you F/N..”

“I missed you too Levi..”

[beans-shadow]

looking for the truth (pt 3)

Fandom: Naruto

Relationship: Kakasaku

Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura

read on ao3: here

part one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen

Upon arrival at the village, the pair halted just before the gates, suspending themselves in the trees. Summoning his ninken, Kakashi sent off Pakkun to snatch some clothes better suited for a semi-affluent couple on a romantic retreat. A bit insulted at the trivial task, Pakkun only agreed when Sakura begged and scratched him on his head.

“Well, how could I refuse now?” The dog had said. “I always liked this one,” he shot at Kakashi.

He set off on his little shopping spree, money tucked into his jaw.

Due to his small stature, Pakkun had to make a few trips. First, he brought back a nice summer dress for Sakura: white with cherry blossom petals blowing in the wind.

“How fitting,” Kakashi said as Sakura once again rolled her eyes.

For Kakashi, Pakkun purchased (or rather, left coins near the stalls he had taken the clothes from) a smart button down and well-fitting jeans.

Holding up the light blue pants to the sky, Kakashi scrunched up his face. He wasn’t too excited to wear something so constricting. He much preferred the loose ninja outfit that made him feel free and safe. Protected.

“Oh, lighten up,” Sakura told him as she changed on a branch a few levels above him. “At least you’ll have pockets.”

Kakashi had to admit that was nice. Sakura was stuck with strapping weapons and scrolls on her upper legs, or stuffing them down her bra. Not very comfortable.

Regardless, he still grumbled as he stripped off his ninja clothes. Pakkun was shaking with laughter as Kakashi fumbled with the buttons of the shirt.

“Haven’t gotten out much lately, have you?” The dog commented.

With a glare, Kakashi finished the last button. “Why are you still here?”

The dog shrugged. “This is incredibly amusing. And I thought you might want some tips for this mission.”

“Tips? Why would I need advice?”

The dog gave him a knowing look. “Even though you avoided the question, I know you haven’t been out much, much less gone on a date recently. Do you know how to act around a girlfriend? A fiancé?”

Straightening out his collar, Kakashi avoided eye contact. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Maybe with anyone else, but this is Sakura we’re talking about.” Pakkun circled in place three times, then settled down with his paws crossed.

Kakashi paused in his fidgeting. “And what does that mean?”

He could see the dog sigh. “Well, I guess if you have to ask that, the point is moot.” He scratched his ear with a rear foot. “Any other things you need me or the crew to take care of? A perimeter check? A sniff-out?”

Although still wondering what Pakkun meant by his last comment, Kakashi let it slide. “I think we’re good for now, but I’ll definitely need the pack later on. Don’t stray too far.”

“We never do,” the dog replied. With a nod, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Oh no, did I miss saying goodbye?”

“Yes, but he’ll be back, don’t wor—” his mind went blank when he saw Sakura. Her headband was stored in her pack, leaving her short hair to flow unrestrained around her face. Her grace in the wind perfectly mimicked the dress as it bellowed in the soft breeze both in the physical world and the illustration on the material. She looked so small in the dress, so different from the powerful Sakura he had constructed in his mind.

She cocked her head to the side. “Are you alright?”

Kakashi pinched himself. “I’m perfectly fine. Are you ready?”

Shouldering her backpack, Sakura nodded. “But what about?...” she shyly pointed at Kakashi’s face.

He patted himself down. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Somehow Sakura made herself even smaller by crossing one arm around her body to clutch at her opposite limb. “Shouldn’t you take off your mask? I’m not sure if that’s really a common thing around here.”

“Oh.” Kakashi brushed his mask with fingertips. She was probably correct, but he wasn’t ready to strip himself that much in front of the kunoichi. “I think it’ll be fine. Lots of people have loads of odd customs.”

“Okay,” Sakura said. And without further argument, she leapt down. Kakashi followed, meeting her at the base of the tree. She waited patiently, scanning the area around them and contemplating the entrance gate to the village.

“Here, let me take that,” Kakashi extended a hand for Sakura’s backpack.

She’d never looked more offended. Taking a step back, she said, “I’m perfectly capable of carrying it myself. I think I might even be stronger than you!”

“I don’t doubt that,” Kakashi admitted, “but people might think it odd if such a dutiful fiancé wasn’t carrying his partner’s luggage for her.”

Reluctantly, Sakura handed over her backpack. And with that joyous note, they left the solitude of the foliage to approach the main gateway.

Two hired guard stopped them. “Halt! What brings you two here?”

Before Kakashi could answer, Sakura draped herself over him, placing one hand over her chest and lifting one leg in the air. “Why do you think?” She batted her eyes at the guards.

Immediately the guards softened. “Of course, my apologies for my comrade’s rudeness,” the other said, slapping his fellow guard in the chest. “You two must be here for the festival. Welcome, welcome.” The two stepped aside and gestured into the main road of the village.

“Much gratitude,” Sakura said sweetly. Linking arms with Kakashi, she led him past the men and into the town.

“Impressive,” Kakashi mumbled down to her.

“I’m a kunoichi,” Sakura stated. “Charming is in the job description.”

Of course. Kakashi felt chills at the implications in her statement. Ninjas were expected to be used for seduction purposes, female ninjas more than men. Kakashi had had his fair share of such assignments, but thinking Sakura had been through such demeaning and self-deprecating situations made his lip curl in distaste. Kakashi had no worth. But Sakura shouldn’t have had to go through that. Not that any kunoichi should—but something about Sakura made him feel more protective. Maybe he was already taking his role as fiancé too seriously. He needed to take a step back and act more professional.

Kakashi left that dangerous train of thought to take in his surroundings. He was astounded at the scene in front of him: the main street was similar to Konoha’s, with lines of street vendors and different shops. But for the event the people had clearly gone crazy. Drapes of pink and white lights arched through the sky above, crossing over from one street lamp to the next, flashing their colors. Banners hung from every building, proclaiming the event in huge letterings and large hearts. The street itself was lined with flowers of many kinds, including roses petals, daisies, and even peach blossoms.

Solicitors roamed around, selling flowers and chocolates to anyone that would listen. Vendors overflowed with bouquets, trinkets, and food for loved ones. Dozens and dozens of couples swooned over the attention from shopkeepers, dragging significant others from stall to stall. From all the rustle and bustle Kakashi wondered how they would get the information they needed for Tsunade.

Sakura tugged on his arm. “Come on, we should find a place to set up camp.” Once again, Kakashi followed, after slyly removing his arm from Sakura’s. The lack of warmth left him empty, and the space between them was cold. Sakura shot him a surprised look, which turned to of sadness and slight rejection. But she covered it up quickly and took the lead down the path.

“Ahh, what a lovely lady! Would you like a necklace? Lovely necklace for a lovely lady!”

“It’s such a hot day, how about a nice refreshing smoothie! Peach and cherry to match that beautiful hair of yours!”

“Take a break and sit down, Madam! Let me sketch you and your lover!”

Sakura was the target of nonstop street car peddlers. They zoomed in on her summer dress and immediately recognized her as a tourist. Every time she indulged them, but after a moment she would always turn them down.

Hands raised in a small surrender, she apologized. “Sorry, but we’re not interested right now!” And Kakashi would follow her once more as she continued down the road.  

After the eleventh shopkeeper took interest in her, Kakashi stepped forward. “Please leave my fiancé alone, we’ve had a long journey and really must find a place to rest. Have a good day.” He placed a hand on the small of Sakura’s back, leading her away from the leering stare of the salesman.

“There’s no reason to be rude,” Sakura muttered under her breath.

Exacerbated, he shot back, “There’s also no reason to stop at literally every little shop.”

She tugged herself away from his body. “We just arrived, we need to get a feel for who is here and what’s going on! Ever heard of reconnaissance?” Shamefully Kakashi looked away, knowing she was right. It was just not the way he would have gone about it. “Besides, we also need to keep up appearances. No one will guess if we’re snooping if that’s just what we’re like.”

Sakura said that as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Kakashi hadn’t even begun to think of that. He was just planning on settling down in a hotel room and sending out his dogs at night, and then following up on any suspicious activity. Spying in broad daylight was a tactic, just one he barely employed. He was still thinking as if he were alone on this mission.

Crossing his arms, Kakashi tapped his chin. “You’re quite right. I’m sorry.” He placed his hands in his hips. “Good thing my fiancé is so smart!” He said loudly.

“Sens—Kakashi,” Sakura corrected himself, looking away with a blush. “You don’t to be so obvious.”

“Gotta keep up appearances,” Kakashi referenced Sakura’s line with a shrug, walking away to explore the other shops, pretending to be interested.

Before he reached the cart lined with books, a hand cut of his line of vision. Following the limb upwards, Kakashi saw a young man with a bright smile attached. He was dressed quite smartly in a dark blue suit, and a nice brown bow tie.

“Good evening, sir! Pardon my eavesdropping, but am I right in overhearing that you and your fiancé have only just arrived at our wonderful town?”

In a split second, Kakashi memorized the man’s sharp chin, wide nose, and big ears. Height: 5’11. Hair: dark brown. Skin: brown. Eyes: green. He was overconfident, rich, and eager.

“Yes,” Kakashi answered, looking to Sakura as she joined his side. Taking her cue, he slid his arm around her waist, careful not to put a lot of weight on her. “We are so excited to share this wonderful adventure together. And you are?” He still didn’t take the man’s hand.

The man paused, taken aback by Kakashi’s slightly cold demeanor. “Oh, of course! I am the Lord of this village’s son, Futoshi Sato.”

With a nudge from Sakura, Kakashi finally took the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sato.”

Sakura extended her hand out as well. “I’m Sakura Haru, and this is Kakashi Hata. Soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Hata, obviously,” she giggled.

Futoshi shook Sakura’s hand as well. “Wonderful, truly wonderful! Our entire village is blessed that you both chose to spend the next few days here. Have you decided on a place to stay?”

The pair shook their heads.

Futoshi beamed. “Then I must insist that I offer you the finest of accommodations our Village has to offer. Right next to the residency our Lord, by the palace, are our best houses. Please allow me to give escort you there.”

Spinning on his heel, Futoshi led them through the tight streets of the village. Sakura and Kakashi let go of each other and stood a respectful distance apart to follow.

“The Lord of this village is also the daimyo, since this land is so small,” Kakashi noted.

“I know,” Sakura whispered back. “This is a good opportunity to get close to the royal family, without being too obvious.”

Before Kakashi could ask her to divulge how she meant to so that, Sakura excitedly pointed to a ramen stand within their eyesight.

“I’m famished!” She announced. “Would you mind pausing a moment so we can eat a bit? We haven’t had a bite to eat in ages.”

After one look at the little run-down ramen stand, Futoshi had a look of utmost horror on his face. “Of course, but here? In this place? For ramen? Do you not want me to take you to some of our five-star restaurants?”

“I love ramen,” Sakura insisted. “Please, I would love it if you joined us.”

Kakashi had to hand it to the girl. Futoshi had no way to refuse without insulting his guest now. How Sakura managed to be such a bad shogi player and yet be a master at mind games was impressive.

“Alright,” Futoshi relented, joining Sakura who had already sat down at the stall.

“One tonkatsu ramen and one miso ramen,” Sakura ordered as Kakashi sat down on her other side. Kakashi shot her a surprised look, and she smiled. “What type of fiancé would I be if I didn’t know my partner’s ramen order?”

“Quite right,” Futoshi admired the two of them. Sakura was correct, that was Kakashi’s preferred ramen order: good old miso style. And goodness knows they’d had ramen countless times with Naruto. Kakashi was just surprised Sakura took the time to notice that he never strayed off from his one selection at Ichiraku.

Futoshi flagged down the waiter. “One more tonkatsu, please.” He turned to the ninja. “So are you two excited for all the festivities planned?” Futoshi asked, resting his elbow on the counter.

Sakura rested her head on a fist. “We don’t actually know much about what’s been scheduled.”

Futoshi’s eyes lit up. “There’s so much that we have prepared! Tonight, there’s a dance set to music that has been choreographed by yours truly,” he gestured to himself. “Tomorrow is the celebration of the first meeting: partners plan on gathering at a designated location by themselves, to mimic bumping into each other for the first time. Later that night we have a firework show. Then we have a day just full of activities, ranging from pottery, flower gathering, picnicking, petting zoo, boat rides, and more! The next day we rejoice in the inner beauty; participants are expected to wear masks so everyone can focus on the personality quirks that make us love one another. I see you’re already prepared for that one,” Futoshi joked.

“Indeed,” Kakashi squinted his eyes in a smile.

“Wow,” Sakura tapped on the counter. “That’s a lot. How much is this costing the village?”

With a wave in the air, Futoshi did not look concerned. “Oh, this whole shebang won’t even cause a dent into our village’s funds. We have so much nowadays!”

Right then, three heaping bowls of ramen slid in front of them. “Dig in!” The chef told them with a bright smile.

The conversation ended, so Kakashi filed the information for a later discussion. For now, he would enjoy his favorite type of ramen.

***

Any feedback is very welcome!