#like i got nothin against it inherently i just

[sharedheadspace]

really fuckin sucks that i hate p*tplay cause the hornyposts for it are perfect

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸𝚅. 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, flirting, fluff, angst, pining, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, girldad!Joel, tipsy!Joel, heteronormative bullshit, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, Sad During the Holidays™, financial/mental/emotional/physical abuse, high functioning alcoholism | WORD COUNT: 9k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: The more settled you get into your new job, the more your home life frays at the edges. When Joel asks you for a favor, you both struggle to keep from crossing the line between professional and personal.

“Blue Plate Diner?” you read aloud. The flickering bulbs of the neon blue sign added to the Mom & Pop charm of the breakfast place Joel had picked.

“It’s good, I swear. Just give it a chance and you’ll love it,” he promises.

You’re craving the proximity of last night on the bench together passing out candy, so you choose a booth when the waitress asks if you have a preference. Joel picks up a menu and hands it to you, and you take the opportunity to scoot closer to him when he grabs one of his own.

“So what do you normally like for breakfast?” he asks.

“Um, I dunno. Just whatever is around, I guess.”

“What sorta answer is that? You don’t have a favorite breakfast food?”

“I dunno. Do you?” You glance over to see what he’s considering on the menu, only to find he’s ignoring it completely and has his eyes set on you.

“Yeah, I got some classics on deck, but I wanna make sure you get somethin’ you like.”

“Well what’s the fan favorite?” You take a look around at the other patrons and find not a single one of them looks to be under 70 years old. “Other than maybe applesauce and prune juice,” you add.

“Very funny,” Joel laughs under his breath. “You’ll be old one day, too, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get there first, so you can tell me all about it so I can be prepared,” you shoot back with a devilish smirk.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re nothin’ but trouble?” he teases with a full body bump to your side.

You quickly look back down to the menu and wonder what he would say if you told him that yes you had in fact been told many times in many different ways that you were nothing but trouble – except not in the fun, lighthearted way that he’d just said it. 

“Yeah, but I’ve heard worse,” you settle on.

When he seems to be sizing up your response, you give him a full body nudge of your own, which draws a soft chuckle from him. “So,” you say brightly. “What do you recommend since we don’t have to worry about our dentures popping out?”

He rests his arm along the back of the booth behind you and pins you with a put on stern expression. “Speak for yourself,” he huffs. He’s so broad and open sitting next to you like this. You could curl right into his side and fit so snug and perfect, you just know it. Somehow you just know it’d feel like his body was meant to curve around yours.

You giggle and turn to him, your hand finding it’s way to his lips before you can really register what the fuck you’re even doing. He stills, eyelids falling half-lidded for a moment as he watches you, and leans into your touch. The scruff of his beard is coarse and scratchy. You wonder what it would feel like against your neck, your lips, in between your legs. You tap his front teeth when his mouth opens into a smile. “Your denture guy does some real good work. Can’t even tell they’re fake,” you mock observe.

You want to touch his dimple so, so bad. It’s right there. Would he let you? Would it be weird? He still hasn’t moved, just sitting there letting you touch and poke and prod as you please. Your hand gently curves against his jawline, and your fingertip grazes against his dimple. “Is this your real hair or do you have a wig guy, too?” You meant for it to come out as a playful jab, but instead it was a breathy sort of question that betrayed the farce of innocent levity.

“I’m gatekeeping my wig guy, sorry,” he teases. “I’ll give you my denture guy’s contact if you want it, though.”

“Should I come back?” the waitress asks no one in particular.

You and Joel both missed her return to your table. Gravity feels stronger with how quickly your hand drops from his face. You situate yourself forward again to face the server. Joel still keeps his hand along your back where it rests on the booth. “You need a minute?” he asks you softly. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice even though it hasn’t emerged onto his face quite yet.

You know he means do you need more time to look at the menu, but all your brain can recognize as needing a moment to process is the insanely flirtatious banter that’s definitely crossed over into inappropriately touching your boss territory. “Um, can you just order for us both?”

“I got you,” he assures you with a smile. Your tummy flips because again there’s so much more to his words than their surface value. He does have you. He has you in ways you haven’t even begun to openly admit to yourself despite feeling it. 

He has you in the way that he’s always been on your side since you first met. Taking up for you when Jeremy was being an asshole. Recognizing and having faith in your abilities to do a job you have zero experience for. Driving you to and from work every day so you had safe, reliable transportation. Calling to check in on you whenever he wasn’t in the office. Texting you on the weekends. Taking the time and the effort to explain things to you until you got the hang of it and never making you feel dumb about it no matter how many times or how long it took. Letting you come over to his house when you said you were alone at your own. And even the little things that might not matter to most people – getting the door for you, making sure the temperature in the car was comfortable, asking if the music playing was okay or if you wanted to change it.

Joel takes care of you in so many ways that on their own might seem insignificant or standard but all add up to one overwhelming sense of being looked after. 

He orders for you both – a monte cristo sandwich and chicken and waffles - and you settle into easy conversation again. You’ve never tried either dish, and you soak in the eager way Joel explains them to you in detail and what he thinks you might like about them. You end up preferring the raspberry jam to dip the sandwich into over the strawberry jam that Joel liked better. The chicken and waffles are absolute perfection, and Joel is nice enough to let you have the last bite.

Your stomach was uncomfortable with fullness, but you’d have to wait until you were alone in the office to unbutton your jeans for more room. You lean back with a heavy sigh against the booth and mindlessly snuggle against Joel’s arm there. You don’t remember when he put it back after the food had come.

“Not a breakfast person, huh?” The curve of a self-satisfied grin slips onto his mouth.

“Did I eat too much?” You feel self-conscious now. Maybe he’d meant to save some of it for later? You didn’t realize how hungry you actually were. It occurs to you that you didn’t eat dinner last night. You sometimes forgot to eat if you weren’t preparing a meal for your dad.

“Oh quit it,” he gently chides. “You know damn well I’m over the moon that you liked the food. I was nervous I’d oversold it to you.”

You relax again knowing that he wasn’t upset with you for helping eat the plates clean. “You always pick good stuff. I knew whatever you picked was gonna be good.”

His entire face beams with a deliriously pleased grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe a little laugh.

He turns his head from you to look out the front of the diner, and you swear the tips of his ears are pinking just like the apples of his cheeks.

“So, can I ask a favor now that I got you all comatose with sugar?” he lobs at you and makes eye contact again.

“Ask away, Sugar Booger,” you giggle, feeling a little giddy and high off the carb and glucose laden foods. And maybe making him blush. And possibly also the prolonged proximity to him.

“Oh wow. No more syrup for you,” he jokes. “You sure you’re of sound mind? Don’t want you claimin’ an altered state later on and try to get outta it.”

“Is the favor that bad?”

Joel winces at the unintentional negative setup he’d created for his impending request. “No, I mean, it’s not– No, it’s not that bad. More just like I’m not the best with those sorts of things and could use some guidance.”

Your eyebrows lift in curiosity, and you wait for him to continue.

“So, there’s a guy on our crew – you’ve met him, I think? Paul?– and he’s been with us for 10 years this December. So me ‘n Tommy wanted to do a sort of, not like a party, but more of like a sit down dinner sort of thing? And invite all the employees to come celebrate.”

You stare blankly at him, wondering how this was supposed to be something you’d have a better hand at than Joel or Tommy.

“I know it ain’t your job duties, but I could use a little help,” he admits. “Jenn always sorta just handled this stuff, and I shoulda paid more attention to it when she was—”

“I can do it,” you answer quickly. If Jennifer had done it, you could do it. You had to do it. You weren’t going to come into this position with none of the experience she had and none of the work ethic, too.

“You don’t have to. I can do most of it, but I just need a little help organizing it and whatnot.”

“I can do it.”

“Well alright then,” he says like he’s relieved it’s settled and didn’t take too much convincing.

He pays for the meal, and you both head to the car to start your work day.

Kenzie: sssooooo the job???

Her text comes through, and your eyebrows shoot to your hairline in pleasant surprise. You’re shocked she even remembered you’d quit the grocery store and started full time with Miller Contracting. After ten seconds of consideration, you realize she probably had a little more incentive to recall more of what’s going on in your life because she wanted the dirt on you and Joel. You can’t really blame her, though. You’d be the same way.

You: omg hi! yes, it’s been really good! hbu

Kenzie: caught up w my study buddy friend again this past weekend

Kenzie: he did better this time around

Kenzie: might have to give him a better dicking down score tbh

You: gotta love a fast learner right lol

Kenzie: no fr haha

Kenzie: so have u and joel fucked yet or what

You roll your eyes. Of course she probably would’ve already had this figured out and been fucking Joel on the regular if she was in your shoes, but you didn’t have the sort of inherent charm and finesse that Kenzie seemed to possess when it came to hooking up and relationships.

You: he’s literally my boss

Kenzie: ok but im not hearing a no…..

You: you are trying to get me fired 😐

Kenzie: no im trying to get u FUCKED

Kenzie: which btw whens the last time somebody knocked the cobwebs outta that pussy 

You: omfg

Kenzie: 🎤🎤🎤 lets hear it bitch i need to know what im working with

You groan and scrub a hand over your face. You really, really weren’t in the mood for this particular conversation. It had been a long time since you’d been with anybody, but that wasn’t what made you reluctant to dive into the topic. You’d told her about your past experiences, but she never picked up on the fact that you didn’t mention who they had been with. Pretty much everything you knew about having a sex with a guy you’d learned from Kenzie’s extensive and detailed exploits. She would typically take the lead on conversations around hookups and whiskey dick and bad dating app matches, and you were happy to just listen along and live a little through her tellings.

You: don’t laugh

Kenzie: oh god ok hold on

Kenzie: ok im ready

You: it’s been like 3 years ish

Kenzie: WHAT

Kenzie: u didnt tell em this was an emegenyc!!!!!!!

You: are the typos for dramatic effect or are you legit that worked up

Kenzie: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Kenzie: if i wasnt in class right now id be calling you asap im so serious 

Kenzie: omfg ur poor kitty wtf that is actually tragic

You: ok actually I think I’d just prefer you to laugh at this point instead of whatever this is 💀

Kenzie: ok ok sorry

Kenzie: im just in a state of shock let me pull it together

Kenzie: ok

You: you have to remember I haven’t been with a ton of ppl

Kenzie: pure and innocent okay mary mother of jesus 🙏⛪

You: it’s not like I don’t want to!

You: you’re supposed to be helping me rn 😒

Kenzie: ok well what was he like?

You: who?

Kenzie: the last guy you were with? 3 years ago?

Ah, there it was. The default assumption. It wasn’t usually intended to be rude or presumptuous, but it put you in a position of having to explain your departure from the “norm.” You sigh and decide to give Kenzie a chance. She was super open when it came to sex and all that, so maybe she wouldn’t be like every other person you’d had this conversation with, which thankfully had been very few.

You: nope never been w a guy

Kenzie: …..

Kenzie: im so confused rn

You: well kenz when two ppl like each other a whole bunch, sometimes their crotches get all hot and tingly

Kenzie: ppfffttttt dont have to explain that part to me

Kenzie: ok so ur a virgin?!

Kenzie: 👁️👄👁️

You: nope just never had dick or dick shaped things inside me

Kenzie: hmmm ok idk if thats how that works but im gonna roll w it bc i really dont know lol

You sigh again. You know she’s probably genuinely confused and probably also trying to halfway pay attention to whatever lecture she’s in, but it’s still frustrating nonetheless. This idea that sex had to be penetrative to “count” never made a whole lot of sense to you, but over the years you’d found out that you were in the minority with that viewpoint.

You: wow ty for your grace and understanding 😐

Kenzie: i mean it could be worse we could be starting from square 1 so at least youve got some experience under your belt we can work with that

You: I’m really not trying to fuck up this job like obviously Joel is hot but I don’t want to lose this job bc I cross a line and do something stupid

Kenzie: i bet hes huge 😮‍💨

You: that’s not helpful!

Kenzie: ok ok!!! sorry i literally cant help it hes hot and has bde like its not my fault im thinking about it

You laugh at that. Joel did in fact carry himself with the confidence of a guy who was “blessed below the belt,” and the thick, broad physique he had also had all signs pointing to big. You tried your hardest not to think about that, though, because once you got fixated on it that was it. His body always felt so nice and warm next to yours, and you’d put a firm boundary in your mind to not let your imagination run wild about what was beneath the clothes.

You: ok I gotta get back to work

You: text me soon! I want to stay in the loop with everything!

Kenzie: same! 💖

You: ❤️

You’d always preferred pants, but a dress was a single item and cheaper than buying a decent pair of slacks and an appropriate but not boring top for this dinner you were organizing. There was a steakhouse that wasn’t too upscale but still landed in that clean, woodsy tavern type of environment you felt was a good fit for the crew. You knew your usual jeans and t-shirts weren’t going to cut it, so you carved out a little time to bike up to a few thrift stores in the area.

The wrap dress you’d picked had a sort of matronly floral pattern, but beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, it looked better on a body than dangling from a hanger, so it wasn’t a total loss. You used a few carefully placed pins to make sure it wasn’t going to fly open in the middle of the dinner, and, voila! you had a sort of cute outfit to wear to this thing.

The Sunday of the event finally rolled around, and your nerves were at an all time high. You worried that you had forgotten something or that people weren’t going to like the party or that you were going to embarrass yourself in some way. You ignored the catastrophizing as much as possible, but even your favorite, softest t-shirt was feeling itchy around the color while you waited near the front hallway to listen out for Joel’s truck.

You couldn’t leave the house in your dress without your dad demanding to know when and how you’d gotten it. He’d never approve a new dress for just one singular work function. It’s tucked away in your bag until you can change into it later. You make a beeline for the door when you hear Joel’s truck pull up. You absolutely do not want him to interact with your dad. The idea of him confronting Joel about your pay sets your panic on edge.

“When are you gonna be back?” he barks out. He’d agreed to let you go to this work event, but he wasn’t happy about it.

“It’s supposed to be from 1 to 3, dad. I might have to help clean up after, but I don’t think it’ll take too long.” Your hand grips on the doorknob when you hear Joel’s truck come to a complete stop. Bits of imagined images flash in your mind of your dad finding out you’d been lying to him this whole time about how much you made. Your stomach clenches.

“Clean up after? You’re not even getting paid for this thing. Why the fuck would you— You know what, nevermind. If you’re stupid enough to work this thing for free on a weekend, there’s no point trying to explain to you why that’s fucking ridiculous.” He huffs and shakes his head with an incredulous, aggravated smile.

“I’ll be back soon. Bye, dad.”

He settles back into his chair and flicks through the TV channels. “Fucking moron,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear.

You pretend like you didn’t hear him even though you both know you did. Joel is approaching your front door when you bound down the steps towards him. “Hey, ready to go?” You don’t wait for an answer as you scurry to the passenger side. Joel rushes to open the door for you, and you feel bad about making him hurry. You just need to get off your street, and then your nerves might settle.

Joel hops into the driver’s seat and greets you with a smile. “Well hello to you, too.”

You force a smile back. “Sorry. Just don’t want to be late. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined this whole thing by being late.” He motions for you to put your seatbelt on, and it’s only then you realize he’s got on a nice pressed button up with dark wash jeans. His hair is lightly gelled and combed back.

“What the fuck,” you exhale.

“What?” He pulls back, brow knitted in confusion. 

“You– You look so handsome.” It jumps out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

He bursts into a deep belly laugh and shakes his head. “Well you don’t have to sound so surprised about it.” He puts the gear in reverse. “Get your seatbelt on, sweetie.”

“‘Kay,” you mumble absently. When had the inside of the car gotten to 500 degrees? Were you sweaty or clammy? It was hard to tell. You shove the seatbelt into the lock and slump back, all while stealing glances at Joel. He pulls out of the driveway and heads down the street. You suddenly realize you look like an absolute dumpster fire in comparison. “I, um, I do have a different outfit. It’s in my bag.”

“Oh? You can wear what you’ve got on if you’re more comfortable in it,” he offers. “It’s just the guys. Nobody there to impress. I just figured I should put somethin’ on since I’m the big important boss, right?” He flashes a small grin your direction.

“No. I, um, I actually got, like, a real outfit for this. So. You don’t have to worry about me looking like a complete slob.”

He turns his head your direction fully now with a disapproving frown. “You look nice. Why’re you sayin’ that?”

You shrug and look out your window. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Sounds like you did,” he contends.

“Sorr–” You clamp your mouth shut before the word can leave it. “I’ll word it better next time.”

The drive is quiet for a few minutes.

“Hey, you doin’ okay? S’everything alright?”

You hug your arms tighter around yourself. “Yeah, why?”

“Just seem bothered or somethin’. You sure nothin’s wrong?” he presses.

“Just nervous I guess about the party,” you half-lie.

He reaches a hand over without taking his eyes off the road, and your throat squeezes tight when his hand settles gently against the top of your thigh. “You have no reason to be nervous, okay? You did a great job, I just know it. And if anybody doesn’t like somethin’ — even though I doubt that’ll happen — we’re gonna say that I did it or chose it, okay?”

“You don’t have to—”

“That’s our plan, okay?” he interjects. He stops at a red light and turns to look at you, pinning you with a tender but firm expression. “You’re an employee, too, remember? So you should have a good time just like everybody else, you hear?”

You nod and slowly put your hand atop his. You graze your fingers against the solid shape of it and feel grounded for the first time all day. “Okay. I’ll try to enjoy myself.”

“Good,” he approves with a gentle squeeze to your leg before putting both hands on the steering wheel again.

The steakhouse has a private room that you booked, and you get another boost of encouragement when you see that the setup they did is really nice. Joel appraises and compliments every balloon, confetti, tablecloth color,  banner you picked, and so on until he starts repeating himself. You were worlds away from the stress of your house by now, and you slipped away to the bathrooms to change before people started arriving. You situate your dress so it hangs just right, double check the pins are in place, and give your hair a quick pat down.

“Oh good, no one’s here yet,” you sigh when you rush back into the private party room.

Joel’s hands are in his pockets as he casually stands admiring your efforts for the party. He turned when you spoke and stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that just because I was an idiot in the truck,” you dismiss.

“You look incredible!” he raves. He pulls his hands from his pockets and holds them out low to his sides as he approaches you with an open appraisal of your form. He’s standing so close now you feel a bit dizzy. It doesn’t help matters when he slides his hands to cup your elbows. “That’s a really nice dress. You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. Your chest might as well be on fire, and your ears were throbbing with a pulsing drum.

“And you’re not an idiot. I really wish you’d quit sayin’ that stuff,” he adds gently. His face is open, imploring you to stop the ingrained habit of tearing yourself down with simple but hurtful self-directed words.

“I don’t mean to,” you admit in a soft hush. You rest a hand on his stomach and fiddle with the small buttons there.

“I know you don’t,” he says just as soft. He smooths a cluster of stray hairs to sit behind your ear.

He nudges your chin before putting his hands back in his pockets. “Chin up, alright? Let’s have a good time.”

Your mouth twitches to the side in a little half smile. “Okay,” you agree.

You keep your word for the most part. The rest of the employees filter in one by one, all dressed in varying degrees of special occasion attire. You feel a bit better about your dress now seeing a few others wearing pretty much what you’d consider “elevated loungewear.” You recognize the names and a few faces, but you’ve never really had a chance to actually sit down and talk with most of them. They all seem friendly and easygoing. The back and forth between everybody feels like one of those scenes in a movie or TV show where everybody is sitting around for a holiday meal while the camera pans through all the boisterous, joyful interactions.

You surprise yourself by enjoying all of it and glancing around at all the happy energy zipping through the room. Normally you’d probably feel like the odd man out for not really knowing anybody that well, but the atmosphere is so warm and friendly that it feels perfectly acceptable to just be a content fly on the wall. It probably helps that Joel keeps checking in on you as he’s taken to doing.

You’re sat near the end with him and Tommy – prime positioning for whoever needs to get up and grab something or stand to make an announcement. The man of the hour Paul is seated near the other end of the table, which actually turns out perfect since most people’s attention keeps focusing his way. You make sure to keep the physical and verbal boundaries with Joel in check even though you wish you could just reach out and hold his hand.

The first snag comes when the drink orders are being taken. Everyone is getting beer or wine, and you feel a bit of panic rise up. You can’t remember the last time you drank, and you don’t want to make a fool of yourself or be the only person not drinking. It was a celebration after all, and the pressure to just pick something and deal with the consequences were weighing on you more and more the closer the wait staff got to you. You fumble with the drink menu and pray to god your hands don’t shake too much or heaven forbid your voice when you actually have to speak.

“And for you, ma’am?” the waiter asks politely.

“Um. Um… I … I, um…..”

“Oh, what about that peach moscato I was tellin’ you that Sarah won’t shut up about? You said you like moscato, right?” Joel pipes up.

You turn to him and try to hide the surprise on your face. You’d never had any such conversation. It dawns on you that he’s trying to help. “Oh, yeah! Perfect. Um. I can’t remember what it’s called, though?”

Joel pretends to be in thought for a moment trying to recall. “Hm, I think the label has a flower on it? A peach flower maybe?”

The waiter “regretfully informs” Joel that he isn’t familiar with the moscato in question. You feel a bit bad for him knowing all of it was just something Joel had pulled out of his ass to save yours. Joel shrugs and says whatever peach moscato they’ve got would do. The waiter nods and scribbles down your order before excusing himself and taking Joel and Tommy’s orders for beers. Everyone is served their beverage, and you actually think your fizzy pink drink looks pretty with all the peach slices floating around in it.

“Mind if I try some?” Joel asks when you haven’t taken a sip after several minutes.

“Oh, go ahead.” You hope he takes a big gulp so you have less alcohol to get through. When he does just that, it takes all your effort to not jump into his arms. He makes an approving face at the taste of it before setting it back down in front of you. He leans closer to you and quietly says, “Weak as shit just like I figured. You should be good with what’s left.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He leans back into his own space and gives your lower back a quick, encouraging rub.

Everyone is ordering steak and seafood and some of the fanciest food you think you’ve ever heard of. You choose the peppered mustard salmon filet at the waiter’s suggestion that it would pair nicely with your moscato. You finally do take a sip and whip your head Joel’s direction.

His eyebrows raise in question, and he breaks into a soft grin when he recognizes your pleased reaction. “You like it? S’good, huh?”

You bite your bottom lip and nod. “It’s actually really good. Thank you.”

He leans in again so just you can hear him. “Sorry I cleared most of it already. Was just tryna let you off the hook. You want me to order you another one?”

“No, that’s okay. I really appreciated that, by the way.”

“Of course, hon.” He pulls away and cuts through his medium rare steak. He offers you a slice, and you take a bite. It’s delicious. You all share a laugh when he asks if you want to try some of Tommy’s medium well steak, just so you can see the difference of how steak should actually be eaten. “Whatever, man. If not wantin’ your food to bleed out all over your plate is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right,” Tommy asserts with a sparkly eyed grin.

After dinner, a few of the crew stand to make their toasts and reminisce on times Paul made an ass out of himself or dropped a really expensive power tool and broke it or found himself in the awkward position of being pursued by both the husband and wife – separately – on a kitchen remodel job he worked. Tommy stands and says a few words about Paul’s work ethic and great attitude that keeps the hard days from being unbearable. Joel stands and offers a few words of his own and then detours a little.

“And we’ve been so lucky to have a guy like Paul with us for these past 10 years. We always wanna show our thanks to him and to all of you for showin�� up every day and just gettin’ shit done.”

The table murmurs in agreement with a few people making exaggerated whooping sounds.

“And I also wanna say,” Joel continues, looking down at you and gesturing for you to stand with him. Your legs feel like jelly as you rise and let him wrap a loose arm around your shoulders. “That this one right here put all

this together, so a special thanks to her for that.” Most of the table gives their cheers! or their quiet golf claps, and you fight the urge to run away and hide under the table. “She’s also the reason why y’all’s paychecks didn’t get fucked up when Jennifer had to leave us so quick—” Joel gives a pointed look to Corey, an employee and Jennifer’s ex-fiance once she discovered his cheating, who blushes and drops his gaze “—so let’s all make sure to let her know we appreciate her coming on board in the middle of all that mess and helpin’ to keep things on track.”

The table collectively gives a genuine round of cheering and laughter in praise of you and your role in their undisturbed paychecks. You nervously smile and wave in acknowledgment. Joel gestures that you can take a seat again, which you gratefully accept.

“So here’s to all of you from me and Tommy both. Don’t matter if you’ve been here 10 years or 10 months, we wanna say we appreciate the work y’all do. Thanks everybody for comin’ out today to celebrate.” With that, Joel tips his beer in the air to toast with everyone, and you sip down the rest of your drink.

As things start to wind down, you excuse yourself to the restroom and pluck your phone from your bag to check it before coming back. Just another reason why you could never truly be a dress sort of girl: the lack of pockets. You have a warm glow about you as you assess your reflection in the bathroom mirror, and you know it’s not just the few sips of moscato you’ve had. This had been fun. Being out with other people – and even with everyone drinking – it never got too rowdy or uncomfortable. Your chest pangs at the thought of how much you wish you could do something like this more often.

But that wasn’t your life, so you quickly brush those feelings away. You’d learned long ago that lingering on the impossible only made you feel worse. You sigh and pull your flip phone from where you’d ungracefully shoved it into your top. Your heart drops when you see you’ve missed 7 calls from your father. It drops even more when you see he hadn’t bothered texting. It signaled one of those moods he got into where he’d get indignant over the thought of having to exert too much energy to access you. You should be the one checking to make sure he didn’t want to say something or need something.

Your hands are shaking as you exit the bathroom to get a better signal in the hallway. The phone only rings twice before your father picks up.

“If you aren’t going to answer my calls, there’s no need for you to have a phone at all,” his cutting voice comes through.

“Dad, I’m so sorry, I was just—”

“Do you even know what time it is? Have you even been keeping track of it?” he interrupts.

You regretfully haven’t. You’d been having such a good time that you hadn’t thought about how long it’d been. You’d booked the room for 12-4. Hadn’t you told him you’d be staying behind to help clean up? It couldn’t be that far out of the window, could it?

“Dad, it’s a work–”

“Bullshit!” he snaps. “You have other responsibilities! You know all the shit that needs to be done around the house before the week starts!”

You flinch even though he’s not present. You knew that tone all too well.

“Dad, I swear I’ll—”

“You can’t just leave all your responsibilities in the dust just because you want to go out and get rowdy with coworkers!”

“I’m not, dad! Please just let me—”

“GET YOUR ASS HOME IMMEDIATELY!”

“I-I’ll stay up to get everything done, dad. I swear! I’ll get started right when I get home!”

You imagine he must mean pressing his shirts, cleaning the kitchen, and tidying up in general. And whatever other chore he dreamt up on the spot that you were expected to jump up and do without question.

“If you don’t get home soon, I’m gonna lock your ass out. See if you lose track of time again after that.”

“Dad! I’m leaving soon! I–”

The other end goes dead, and you pull your phone away to see the home screen. He hung up on you. The clock reads 4:37.

Joel is happy to see his employees getting some downtime, an opportunity to throw back some beers and shoot the shit with each other. They all worked so hard. It felt good to be able to do things like this for them. 

You’d slipped away to the bathroom several minutes ago, and Joel excuses himself with the intent of thanking you without anyone else around. He figures he could use a bathroom break himself, and he winds through the restaurant towards them. He stops just short of the hallway when he hears your voice, but it’s not your usual tone. There’s a shakiness to it that Joel immediately clocks. 

“I’m not, dad! Please just let me—”

Why do you sound so panicked? Did you say ‘dad’? Why would talking to your dad have you so frazzled?

“I-I’ll stay up to get everything done, dad. I swear! I’ll get started right when I get home!”

What did you have to stay up to do? Why did you have to get home to get started on it? How much of it was there? You hadn’t even been gone that long.

“Dad! I’m leaving soon! I–”

There’s just quiet after that. Joel immediately thinks back  to a conversation he’d had with you earlier this week after you’d finished a call with a particularly disgruntled client.

“You sure you never worked at a call center or somethin’?” Joel laughed.

“No, never. Why?”

“S’just you don’t seem fazed at all by people bitin’ your head off. It’s the sorta thing you think seasoned debt collectors would be used to, not somebody workin’ at the supermarket.”

He then thinks about the way your dad spoke about you when he’d run into him at the car shop. Joel starts to wonder if it’s the same way he talks to you.

He slowly rounds the corner to find you staring blankly at your phone. Your head snaps up when you notice him.

“Oh! Joel, hi. You scared me,” you breathily laugh.

“Hey, you okay?” He can’t help himself. He considered playing it off like he hadn’t heard anything – to just mind his own business for once when it came to you – but he had to know if there was something wrong, if there was something he could help with.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. My dad just gets really worried when I’m out by myself.”

“You’re not by yourself,” he contends, a little offended by the notion that your dad didn’t trust him for some reason. Joel reminded himself that he was protective of Sarah and that your dad was probably just coming from the same place. He couldn’t blame a dad for being protective over his baby girl.

“You know what I mean,” you breathe with a shake of your head. The undercurrent of your words came through clear as day: please don’t make me explain it because I’m so, so tired.

“Yeah, alright. I, uh, overheard a little bit when I came ‘round the corner. You, uh, need to get home soon?”

Your sad eyes locked onto Joel, and it took everything in him to not scoop you up into a tight hug and tell you that he’d do anything right now to see you as carefree and happy as you’d been not that long ago at the table.

“Yeah, sorry. I can call a cab if you–”

“No. We can get goin’ if that’s what you wanna do,” he assures you. “Let me just use the bathroom real quick and say bye to everybody. We’ll get goin’ quick, alright?”

Your frown added to the contradiction of the entire situation. It didn’t seem much like you wanted to go home at all despite insisting you did. Joel knew he’d be replaying the entire day over and over in his head to figure it out.

Joel had offered to walk you inside after getting the car door for you, but you managed to talk him out of it, saying how he’d done plenty for today and that you’d see him in the morning. He waved and reversed out the drive before disappearing around the corner.

The front door was unlocked. You breathe a sigh of relief. One obstacle down, one million to go.

Your father is waiting in the foyer for you, tall and imposing. “Took you long enough.”

“Dad, I’m so sorry.”

“What’re you wearing?” He rounds on you now like a buzzard on rotting flesh.

Your gut turns when you realize you’d forgotten to change out of your dress. He pulls at the sleeve as if to inspect it.

“Dad, be careful! That’s Kenzie’s dress!” you lie. “If I mess it up I’m gonna have to replace it!”

“Oh, is that so?” he sneers. He yanks your bag from your shoulder and flips it upside down, emptying its contents all over the floor. You stay frozen in place as he uses his foot to kick around your things and search for some incriminating item. You almost lurch forward when he toes your clothes to the side and sees your work phone.

“And I guess this is Kenzie’s phone, too? Just borrowing a brand new phone from a friend?” he mocks as he leans down to pick it up and shove it in your face.

You shake your head, your tongue heavy and inoperative, and a black fit of rage clouds over his eyes.

“So, you’re stealing money from the account somehow, huh? Spending it on ridiculous things for yourself? How long has that been going on?” he demands.

“No, I’m not! It’s for work!” you plead.

“Oh yeah, just like this little function today was for work, huh? BULLSHIT!”

It happens before you can stop him. You watch in horror as he throws your work phone into the wall. It thuds to the floor with cracks throughout the screen in several places.

“Dad, stop! I need that for work!” you cry. You scramble to the floor to salvage what you can.

Something in your voice must tell him you’re not lying. He seems to realize you’re telling the truth: it is a work phone. You hadn’t been hiding anything or spending money – your own money from your own account.

“See what happens when you keep secrets? Makes me feel like I can’t trust you at all.” 

It’s as close to an admission of error that you’re going to get. He certainly wasn’t going to outright apologize. You hold back tears until he stomps off into the living room and plops down in his chair, just where you’d left him earlier today. You gather your mess of things from the floor and try to pull yourself together enough for the hours of chores ahead of you.

You’d been close to your normal self on Monday morning when Joel picked you up. He was waiting for some somber mood or vague mention of yesterday’s hasty departure. But, you were acting like nothing had happened. So, Joel did, too. He’d found that taking your lead with these strange situations was the only thing that kept your guard down. He’d have to just work the information out of you slowly and gently.

The entire thing had left a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe your dad had really just been worried about you being out past when you’d said you’d be home, but was it really necessary for him to get so upset over it? You couldn’t just up and leave of your own accord since Joel had driven you both, so why did it seem like your dad was blaming you for something you had no control over?

It wasn’t until Wednesday when he saw your broken work phone that the uneasy feelings came back tenfold. You’d sworn up and down that you’d dropped it a couple days ago and that you’d meant to tell him about it but forgotten. You’d apologized profusely for it and urged him to deduct the amount from your paycheck.

It just added to that nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. First the apparent relief of being paid cash. The fact that your dad was on all your accounts. The condescending, sharp way he’d held himself when Joel ran into him at the auto shop. The way you always seemed to change the topic whenever family or home came up. The way you sounded upset on the phone with your dad on Sunday. And now your work phone had been “dropped and cracked.” 

It all gave Joel a bad feeling he couldn’t quite pin, but he couldn’t root it on any one thing in particular. All he could do was keep a closer eye on you and watch for more indications.

He takes you to get a new work phone and doesn’t leave until you’ve picked out the color you want of the newest version available. He doesn’t entertain your hesitance at accepting such a “nice gift.” He downplays it for your benefit. “Nah, quit it. It’s a work thing, but, hey, if it feels like a gift, I ain’t gonna argue with that.”

You were supposed to be getting direct deposits just like every other employee starting next month after Tommy had pressed him about it, but Joel wanted to keep that on hold until he got a better idea of what this bad feeling was that had taken hold of him. He’d been paying you in cash and driving you to the bank every other week, and he suggested doing that for “a little while longer” until he “could get some other things sorted out.”

To no surprise, you had no qualms with the offering.

You’d faked your excitement with everyone else around the office about the days off coming up for the holiday. Now here you were up at the crack of dawn trying to scrounge up whatever you could to put together something for today. It wasn’t going to be a Thanksgiving feast, that’s for sure. Part of you is relieved when your dad wakes up and tells you he’s going to Denise’s for the day. He’d been standoffish since he’d thrown your phone, but you didn’t dare acknowledge his almost rueful demeanor. If he didn’t directly address it, you knew better than to bring it up.

Just for good measure and to keep you in line, your dad explains that Denise’s parents are going to be there today, and he’s not willing to risk you tagging along and making some sort of scene. He wants to make a good impression, and it’s abundantly clear he doesn’t consider you someone that would make him look good. If you’re not an asset, you’re just in the way.

He takes the one decent dish you’d managed to produce and tells you not to wait up.

The quiet and calmness of an empty house is a rarity – a nice change of scenery – but you can’t pretend you’re not a little lonely. Something about the holiday where you’re meant to gather around family and friends and express your gratitude for them and everything else. It all amplified your solitude. You can’t keep your mind from drifting to your younger brother Calum who you hadn’t heard from properly in months. 

He’d made the choice to leave almost a year ago. In truth, you’d never really felt lonely until he left. And as much as it hurt to no longer have him here with you, you understood. The least you could do was respect his choice and give him the gift of leaving this awful place behind. He didn’t need reminders of his past, what he’d decidedly departed from, when he was probably enjoying himself on Thanksgiving for the first time ever. You smiled as

you imagined the friends he might be having a meal with. At least one of you got out. You don’t begrudge him, but you do wish there was some way to know if he ever missed you.

A blanket work text comes through on your work phone. Some sparkly cornucopia graphic with even more sparkly text that read Happy Thanksgiving! It was sent by Joel, but you had a feeling the graphic was more of Tommy’s doing. You respond back to Joel on a private text.

You: happy thanksgiving :) shame you didn’t send out one of your famous emoji stories tho

Joel: Tommy made me send that ugly thing.

Joel: Thought of you earlier, by the way.

You: oh?

Joel: Yeah the parade was on, and I saw the Jolly Green Giant. Creepy fucker. Don’t remember him looking like that.

You: and that made you think of me? 😐

You snort at the inadvertently rude comment and break into a wide smile when his contact takes up the screen.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you assure him.

He groans on the other end. “Listen, I was tryna say that I thought of you ‘cause of the grocery store, you know? Canned green beans at the store? And you used to work at the supermarket, so… And the float was ugly – I don’t think you’re ugly, not in the slightest — I, well— now that came out wrong, goddammit—” You openly giggle at his floundering, and he lets out a nervous, self-deprecating chuckle.

“Been making merry it sounds like,” you lightheartedly tease. 

He makes a sheepish sort of sound and admits to “having been bullied into a coupla bottles of beer by Tommy” but is quick to assure you he’s going to “stuff myself with some appetizers to soak some of it up before talking to any other employees.” You grimace at the reminder that this is not in fact some friendly call but rather your boss just sending out a mass text wishing everybody a nice holiday. 

You wish you were there with him. His warmth and kindness feels like it was meant to be shared on days like this, surrounded by a good meal and a happy family. Even this somewhat inebriated version of him is so different from what you’ve grown up with.

“Sure is quiet over there,” he notes.

“Yeah, I just stepped outside for a minute when I saw you were calling.”

“Ah, well don’t let me keep you from it, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Thanks for calling, Joel. Say hi to Tommy for me.”

“Will do. And, uh, sorry about the green beans thing again.”

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me a trip to Blue Plate Diner for that one.”

He laughs and agrees that the “punishment fits the crime.” Your heart stutters at the promise of getting to cuddle up next to him in a booth again.

“So, you ate good and all that?” Joel asks as he turns the wheel.

“Oh yeah. Probably gained five pounds,” you lie with a fake laugh. “How about you? Tommy bully you some more after we talked?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Gotta remind myself that alcohol hits different the older you get. Gotta have some food in me first before I start sayin’ crazy things.” He grumbles to himself when he pulls into the office parking lot and finds a large portion of it sectioned off with cones. He spots somebody in a high visibility vest and hops out to talk to him.

You watch on as he points to the various cones and then to your office door. The worker nods and gestures to something down the road. You try to follow along to where he’s pointing, but his hand drops before you get a good look. After another moment of discussion, Joel shakes the guy’s hand and moves a few cones aside. To your horror, he motions for you to drive through.

It’s a short, straight path. You don’t have a license, but this was as simple as it got in terms of driving without hitting anything. The entire lot was empty except for the cones Joel had moved aside for you. You shakily scoot over to the driver’s side but can’t make yourself shift the gear. You’re suddenly cold and clammy, staring blindly at the wheel and the gearshift. Why can’t you just do this simple thing?

You jump at the door opening. You hadn’t even noticed Joel making his way back over to you. “Hey, you’re alright. I got it.” He hops into the truck without another word, and you barely shift over enough to make space for him. You wait for the insults to fly, but they don’t come.

No why you couldn’t manage such a simple request?! barked at you

No I have to do everything myself! hurtled your way.

Instead, he pulled into a space and put it in park. Before you’d even opened your mouth to apologize, he waved you off.  “Nah, shouldn’t have assumed you were comfortable with it. That’s my fault,” he offers casually. 

“It’s so stupid, I should’ve just–”

“Shouldn’t have asked ya in the first place. Not right. I know you don’t have your license, and I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be comfortable even if I thought it wasn’t a big deal. I’m sorry for puttin’ you in that spot.”

Your mouth feels dry, adrenaline coursing with the stress of a reprimand that wasn’t going to come but you’d been trained to expect. He hops out and gets the door for you, just like he always does. You take his hand as you step down from the truck and hate how you have to let it go.

“You know, uh, if you ever wanted to, I could take you to get your learner’s. I could take you to practice – you know, just learn the basics. If it’d make you feel more comfortable….”

“Yeah, okay.”

You had to learn to drive eventually, right? And you weren’t about to turn down more time alone with Joel.

You listen as he rattles on about all the abandoned parking lots and empty job sites he has in mind for you to practice without the stress of people or cars around. You want to tell him that if you were with him you knew you’d be alright. You settle for a “thank you.”

◦ ty to @jupiter-soups for looking this over ◦ posting this a tad earlier than planned bc I'm going to be offline towards the end of the week and want to make sure this goes up without any issues ◦ ty for all the love thus far on this series!

tagging those who have shown interest (lmk if you want be removed):

@verybigvag @drunk-and-capable @bizarrelove-triangle @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @cumberpegg @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @umnitsa @ellenmunn @zooty-and-fruity @walw1017 @keylimebeag @beelzebeth87 @janaispunk @wand-erer5 @0vix0 @pastelnap @goodwithcheese @akah565 @fadajnaoqkzalq @confusedpuffin

[notmuchtoconceal]

(_/~ ( o ) ~\_)

- brother jacek. why the long face? you look as hoarse as you sound!

- i'm not sad, brother brux.

- mate, you don't gotta hide nuthin from me. it's me, your buddy. it's me, brux. you know i'd only ever lie to you if you weren't in your right mind and i needed ta subdue ya! not that – y'know, you're ever fully in your right mind, so i guess i'm never fully tellin ya the truth? and that's loikely the cause of some of your strain? but – y'know. nobody's ever always in their right mind, mate. we all gotta lie to protect ourselves. it's not your fault that when people're around you they need extra protection and thus got a higher likelihood a lyin, and their lies – innocuous things that they are – only put ya further on edge. i swear to you, mate. i'm always tellin ya as much of the truth as i can, or i think ya can handle! and i know i'm super self-absorbed, but loike – i'm really tryin with ya, mate!

... not that i'm spellin this out cause i wanna manipulate ya or nothin, it's more like – i just need ya to see where i'm comin from, cause sometimes bein impersonal really is the best way to care for somebody?

... cause loike – y'know.

... on some level i really do wanna be your mum, but loike – realistically i can't? i feel like i'd be lyin to ya if i really did try to be your mum full-time, cause as much as i'd want to, i'd be openin myself up to more baggage than i could handle, and then i'd get strained and my strain would strain ya more, and it would begin to compose a vicious cycle of bitin off more than i can chew with a man who – i'm sorry to this say this mate – can really stuff his mouth cause he's not afraid to use his teeth?

…  gosh, mate – i keep my distance around some men who, y'know – i dutifully serve and love and adore and now i gotta get close enough ta you to make ya feel safe and protected, but also – you could eat me. you really could. that is a probable outcome and it is one i need to protect myself against. it's not like – it's not like i don't want ya to be able to eat me either, cause – y'know. chances are if ya couldn't eat me, i'd just have contempt for you? i'd certainly find you a lot less intriguin. there's somethin inherently fascinatin about danger that makes ya compelled to rush toward it? though also – it cannot be overlooked – there's also somethin about danger that repulses ya and makes ya wanna stay away?

... i get it, mate. i get it. i wanna do everythin i can for ya, but i can only do it from a safe distance of no less than ten and no more than seven feet, and sometimes – y'know. you really do need me to get closer, but i can't? it's not your fault. it's not anybody's fault. there's simply an inherent difficulty in two men bein intimiate with one another, which is why men are best off bein intimate with girls, y'know – not that i gotta tell a fine, sharp-nosed poonhound like you, brother jacek, it's more loike –

- you're thinkin about joey and laika?

- red-handed as a reach-around in the jelly jar, brother jacek! cherry as always! i cannot tell a lie, but i sure can filibuster! roight, see – with joey and laika, it's loike – are they the same person? like all blondes? it's kinda weird how much laika wants to be loike joey, right? 

- you wanna be like joey, brother brux.

- mate, i do not wanna be like joey. there's not a whole lot about joey which is admirable or beautiful or thrillin, he's a thoroughly miserable person who can't love anybody but monsters. no offense. i was not thinkin of either you or our commander whom i venerate with offerings, or laika himself for that matter, who seems to be a vain, petulant, amoral crackpot if you really squint between the hours of two and three.

... um, do i really think that? do i think my loving and devoted brothers who i spend most of my time around are thoroughly loveless shells of human beings who can only inflict suffering upon themselves and upon each other? have you ever noticed? this the sort of talk that you find uplifting and inspirational, brother jacek? would you like me to keep going, or would it be more productive if i bitched about wally instead?

- wally gets a lot done. joey does his best to see the good in people.

- on that point, you are correct, brother jacek. joey, why – sometimes he can even manage to see the good in me. your old pal, brux – least somebody tries to see him for what he is, as opposed to what they wanna see him as… am i some alluring fantasy to you, brother jacek? could you ever really love me, or do you just wanna use me for my body?

- should. i ... be using your body more?

- just sayin, mate. can't seem to recall the last time you forced my head down into a pile of your dirty budgies and made me sniff your balls as ya demolished my arse and whispered in my ear how much of a good bitch i am – your bitch – reaffirmin how little i'll ever amount to, and makin me so desperate to please your cock, i forget all about your shitty, fragmented personality and all the ways you're a violent pain tornado who'll never fly back together like the rewind of a demolished house. cause there's no savin you. there's no goin back home, mate.

- guess it's cause you always keep me at a distance.

- yes, brother jacek! it's all my fault you're not tillin my ass like the black and mulchy soil cause i keep tellin you i don't want you and pushin you away! it's absolutely my responsibility to make you feel safe and secure enough to want to tear open my arsehole and drape your massive shoulders in my prolapse like your kingly chains. i should be the one leadin the charge on that! you have no responsibility whatsoever for your lack of action. i should not be expecting you to intuit my wants from my come-hither glances alone. it's my fault. me. you did nothing wrong!

- yeah.

- well, congratulations brother jacek. once again, we've made it all about you. you don't care about brux's feelings. you don't care about how badly brux needs to be dicked by a tender, compassionate, rude and sociopathic muscled-up man-boy wrestler beast who loves him and would never care to permanently maim or wound him, though all he can talk about is how frightened, alone and desperate he is, the the poor bastard -- and that is entirety your fault! you need to dick me, brother jacek! i shouldn't have to tell you this straight to your face! you should just be able to read me from over there across the room, and eagerly serve my needy butthole like the gigantic able dick meat you are!

- …

- …

- okay.

- there's a good lad, yacky. would you like to do it right here on the floor, or should i take ya back to my room, romance ya a lil, y'know – make ya feel like i'm your thrall?

- pretty tired. think i'm gonna head back to bed.

- brother jacek, it's eight in the morning!

- i'm an early settler. 

[meddlearound]

PLATONIC  : 

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. we got a puncher  !    coraline knows how to handle her strength, but sometimes these punches can land a little harder than intended and when that does happen,  she’ll feel bad but wouldn’t know how to approach it.   depending on the situation / the person,  she’ll go “oh, shit, walk it off” and just kinda rub her hand against the sore spot for a couple of seconds.  the usual hits are against the upper arm and shoulders.  

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.    coraline is the type to just bop her forehead on someones arm before pulling away for a quick second,  there are two environments this motions occurs :  when it’s a laughing and joking one,  maybe playing video games or just hanging out casually,  something in those lines.  or when she’s drunk / in need of comfort, where she just groans and leans in and smacks her forehead against someones arm. 

𝐀𝐑𝐓. forever an artist,  and that love bleeds into her relationships so easily because its the first way she learned to express herself,  art came before words and it just stuck.  her stories / poetry are her learning to speak, but with drawings she has the language mastered.   this comes in the form of little doodles being left around or slipped into bags,   portraits of someones loved ones,  or paintings of someones favourite character / interests.  she also has her hands in patches and jackets,  so if you want something like that and briefly mention it in her proximity ? it’s already made and you’ll get it handed to you like its nothing.   

ROMANTIC : 

𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓.              i have always had this headcanon,    always been in the back of my mind and something i’ve incorporated through the years i’ve had this little shit .   however i’ve never been able to word why,   today that ends bitch  !    i think it comes from the notion of being absolutely,   well and truly safe with someone and having that trust to be so vulnerable.   coraline is a firm,  firm believer in eyes really are the key to everything,   with her experiences in the other world and how much value crimson  ( then the other mother )  held with the eyes,   by trusting someone enough to stare and be naked is something she’d lacked her entire life. it’s a really intimate thing when in a relaxed environment.   she’s the type to not speak about this,  she’ll just....  place her forehead against her partners,   nudging her nose against theirs and just stare. if someone questions why this is happening, she’ll get  little flustered and move away, shake her head and “nothin’’“ depending on the type of reaction,  if it’s harsh,  it will stop her from doing it again.   it’s a true safe space for her this act.   it also links into the want to remember features i think,  to be so close,   look at flaws and what color hues the individual has...  perfect for a picture shot to later put in her sketch book. 

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.              yeah coraline will bite someone and it just be like that.  peak love language for her,   for the most part this is the most common thing to occur when truly feeling safe with someone.   put your arm around her ?  she’ll just bite and rest there for a while.  hug her ?  firm bite to where her face is squished,  this is with and without clothes, it doesn’t matter.  she’s also not above biting cheeks, necks and shoulders.   while she does bite in a nsfw settings,  it’s a different energy,  different motions .   its so SO important that when in a relationship with her to read the room carefully,  because this is not an inherently sexually driven thing and if the person turns it sexual she will get uncomfortable,  this leads into a different headcanon entirely,   but you gotta be good at reading her full stop otherwise a relationship will just not work. 

𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.              another action that has been a headcanon since the dawn of time. coraline is an absolute sucker for nose kisses,   they’re such an important aspect to her because it’s not just something done off handedly,   these also are signs that she’s ready to talk,  ready to apologise in her own way,   where she’s feeling things and wants to speak about it but doesn’t know how to start.  it’s not just a love language, it’s the most important action for communication as well as an act of affection.  she wont just rub her nose against someone else’s though,  she’ll also do it against someones arm,  cheek, and even the back of someones hand. 

[artnerd1123]

Oh hey. Figured out why I’ve been feelin so drained at the end of the day.

Also bought cookie dough

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 4

AN: What a crazy episode! I definitely think this episode was one of the best so far and I cannot wait to see what happens next after that insane ending!

Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: Now in Latvia, you and the boys must find Karli before the Dora take Zemo away (Based on S1 EP4)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,123

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, violence, strong language.

Once inside Zemo’s apartment, you started to look through the cupboards. 

Zemo had excused himself to take a bath but you felt starved. 

Even with the limited stock you managed to whip something up for you and Sam. 

“Thank you.” Sam took the bowl from you gratefully. The food Zemo had given you on his private plane wasn’t exactly edible and you were still feeling the affects of the Nagel fail in your body. 

“Well, the Wakandans are here.” Bucky announced as he entered the apartment; having returned from his walk. “They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

“”Were you followed?” Sam looked up at him. 

“No.” Bucky made his way over to you and Sam by the kitchen island. 

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo pondered. 

“Cause I know when I’m being followed.” Bucky sent an unimpressed glance to the man in the bathrobe. 

You pushed a bowl of pasta towards Bucky but he shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” Zemo stated. 

“Hey, you shut it.” Sam quipped. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” 

“You gotta eat.” You whispered to Bucky. 

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo rounded the island so he was closer to you all.

“I’ll eat later.” Bucky mumbled back to you as he furrowed his brow at twitter. 

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam argued with Zemo. 

“Sam.” Bucky had found something. 

“What?” Sam turned his attention to Bucky and away from Zemo. 

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.” Bucky showed you his phone screen so you could read.

“What? What’s the damage?” Sam’s concern grew quickly. 

“Eleven injured, three dead.” You said after skimming over the article. 

“They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.” Bucky added as Sam sighed. 

“She’s getting worse.” Zemo spoke up. “I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?”

“She’s just a kid.” Sam was right. She was only young, she reminded you of you when you first joined the avengers. Desperate to fight for a cause. 

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Zemo disagreed. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”

“You’re talking about our friends.” You felt the need to remind Zemo that you were actually apart of the Avengers as you placed your empty bowl in the sink. 

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky felt the need to clarify. 

“So, Karli is radicalised, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam was determined there wasn’t a need for a fight. 

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.” Zemo explained as he reached for the bowl you had originally offered Bucky. “Or she kills you.” 

You swatted his hand away to which he frowned at. 

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.” Bucky argued his point. 

“Touché.” Zemo picked up a biscuit instead. Holding it on his finger as he spoke. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” Bucky suggested to you and Sam as he moved over to the couch. 

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked as he opened the cupboards to look for some food. 

“Yes.” Bucky didn’t hesitate. 

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam interrupted with a new thought. “So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.”

“Your TT?” Bucky asked, unsure of what Sam had meant. 

“Yeah, my TT, yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“Who is your TT?” Bucky asked as you sat down beside him. 

“Fine. When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.” Sam proposed. He could be right. 

“Worth a shot.” You proclaimed. 

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo sounded more awkward at the use of the phrase before he pulled out a fancy looking tin. “Turkish delight? Irresistible.”

Sam caught the small sweet that Zemo had thrown. 

“I say Zemo put’s some clothes on and we head over to the refugee camp that Donya was staying. See if anyone knows anything about a funeral or ceremony for her.” You ignored Zemo as he looked down at the sweets. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam stood from his seat at the island and looked over at Zemo. 

Zemo nodded before disappearing into a bedroom to change. 

It didn't take long to get to the camp from Zemo’s apartment. 

“Shame what’s become of this place. When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” Zemo seemed saddened by the state of the buildings being used as the camp. 

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.” Sam told Bucky as he gestured to Zemo. 

“I’ll stay out of your way.” Zemo promised. 

“(Y/n), you look around through there. See if you can... You know.” Sam pointed down through one of the ground floor doors. You nodded and left the men.

Most of the adults fled when you entered the building but you noticed a young girl who looked too busy with what she was doing to notice. She had looked maybe 16 or 17 years old and she was embroidering an old silk scarf. 

“That’s beautiful.” You knelt down beside her but as you spoke, her eyes shot up and widened with shock and fear. 

“T-t-thank you.” She stuttered as her eyes flittered around the room for help. 

“It’s okay. I was just wondering if I could have a look at it.” You smiled softly at the girl as you held your hand out. 

She reluctantly gave it to you. 

“This truly is beautiful. You are very talented. May I buy it from you?” You placed your hand in your pocket and pulled out a note that you had previously stolen from Zemo’s jacket.

“You c-c-can have it.” She whispered as she stood. You rose with her as you folded the scarf to place into your pocket. 

“I insist.” You took her hand gently and cautiously and placed the money in her palm. She smiled but she still was nervous and full of worry. You figured she knew who you were. 

You folded your hands over hers and that’s when you unplugged the cork on your powers. 

You closed your eyes and within seconds all the girls memories flooded into your head. 

You tried not to react as it happened. 

You tried your best to filter through the memories quickly. When you reached the time after the blip, you slowed down. You saw the horrors of them being rejected, being abandoned and then you saw Mama Donya and Karli. 

You focused on Karli. 

You watched Karli smile and laugh with all the children, she’d play and look after them as Donya looked after Karli. 

Closer memories brought what seemed like events that only just happened. Karli visiting with supplies. 

You saw the mourning of Mama Donya from everyone and then you saw the arrangements for the funeral. 

You opened your eyes and let go of the girls hand. She thanked you again and left. She would have never realised what you had seen as the memories are shown to you within a matter of seconds. 

You leant against the table and inhaled deeply. 

You felt weak again. 

You pushed yourself off the table and headed back out to Bucky. 

Zemo was surrounded by a bunch of small children.

“You okay?”Bucky asked. The second you reappeared he immediately noticed a change in you. 

“I’m okay.” You lied. “I spoke to one of the teenagers inside. I looked inside her head. You were right, Sam. They are having a funeral but she only knew that she would be taken to it later this afternoon.” You explained as Sam joined you both. 

“Good work.” Sam wrapped his arm around you and gave you a small squeeze of appreciation. 

They both knew how hard it must've been for you to use your powers after the Nagel incident. 

The toll of touching the dead had knocked you for six in the past and in a matter of forty eight hours you had touched the dead and looked into the memories of a live person. 

You’ll need an energy boost before you can do this again. 

Zemo turned back to you and you all returned to the apartment. 

“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky slouched down on the couch in defeat. 

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them.” Sam joined him on the couch. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 

“For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doin’ somethin’.” Sam explained himself. 

“You really think her ends justify her means? Then, she’s no different than him or anybody else we’ve fought.” Bucky pointed over to Zemo. 

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“Sam’s right.” You spoke up. “When I looked into that girls head I saw a lot of Karli. She means a lot to those people, she is their light, their Captain America. But she’s just a kid. From what I saw she has a whole lot of love in her heart and I'm not saying that hurting and killing people is right but she sees it as the only way to help her people.” 

Zemo had walked over from the kitchen with a tray as you spoke. 

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky questioned him. 

“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo only said what you already knew. 

“We know that. Now you know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” Bucky demanded. 

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo sure knew how to push someone’s buttons. 

Bucky shot up and threw Zemo’s cup against the wall. The crashing of the glass made both you and Sam jump to your feet. 

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky threatened Zemo. 

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Sam tried to de-elevate the situation. “Let me make a call.”

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offered Bucky as Sam walked away.

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky grumbled, scowling at the Baron. 

“Come on.” You took Bucky’s hand and pulled him away from Zemo. 

You headed into the bathroom and started to fill up the tub with some cold water. 

“Will you get me some ice?” You asked Bucky to which he complied. 

Once the tub was full of ice water, you stripped and climbed inside. 

Bucky had taken a stool and faced the door to give you some privacy. 

“You shouldn’t let him get to you.” You said as you settled into the water. Your body was screaming at you as the ice touched it but you knew it’d give you the wake up call you and your muscles needed. 

“I don’t.” Bucky grimaced. 

“You don’t? Oh, so the shattered cup in the other room was just a scare tactic?” You mused. 

“Yep.” Bucky grumbled. 

“Okay.” You sighed before going under. 

The cold water hit your brain and you immediately sat back up. 

“Feel better?” Bucky had heard the splashing of the water. 

“Yeah.” You admitted, running your hands over your face and hair. “Can I have my towel?”

Bucky kept his back to you as he passed you the towel. 

You wrapped it around you and stepped out. 

“You can look.” You told him.

Bucky turned and his eyes went straight to the bruises that covered your legs and arms. 

“I’m okay, Buck.” You assured him as you watched the cogs turning in his head. 

“I forget you aren’t...” Bucky’s words dropped off as he stepped closer and lightly took your arm, examining the damage. 

“That I’m not a super soldier?” You smirked. “I may bruise but I can hold a lot more than most, Buck.” 

“Doesn’t stop me worrying.” Bucky admitted as he lowered your arm. 

“I know.” You whispered, looking up at the man’s deep blue eyes.

“You better get dressed. You already know what Sam is thinking with us both being gone right now.” Bucky went to go towards the door when you stopped him. 

“I had a dream about Wakanda on the plane ride here.” You confessed. 

Bucky stopped and looked back at you. 

“It was the day you finally beat the Winter Soldier.” You told him. 

*Flashback*

“These are incredible, Shuri.”  You smiled widely as you threw the new high tech Vibranium knives that Shuri had made for you. 

“I know. I know.” Shuri was well aware of her awesome brain. 

Shuri pressed the combat button on the wall which simulated attackers for intense weapon training. 

You inhaled as you closed your eyes. 

A footstep gave away your first attacker. You threw the knives to the holograms and the attackers were down. You ducked and dodged and jumped around the room as you practised with the knives. 

Shuri cheered you when you finished. You smiled through your heavy breaths and Shuri jogged towards you to give you a fist bump. 

“You are something else, my friend.” Shuri praised you. 

The doors opening behind you made both you and Shuri turn to see who had entered. 

It was Bucky. 

He rushed towards you with a bright smile. His lips seemed to quiver and his eyes were glassy. Something had happened. 

It had happened.

He embraced you tightly and you returned it. Your fingers gripped onto Bucky’s long hair as he buried his face in your neck. 

You looked back at Ayo (who had followed Bucky) and Shuri and mouthed a ‘Thank you’. 

Ayo bowed her head at you before leaving the hall. 

Bucky had finally gotten over HYDRA’s programming after all these years of being held prisoner by a few words. 

You and Bucky stayed like that for what felt like hours. The relief from Bucky washed over you and bound him to you until he was ready to part. 

It was an incredible day.

*End of Flashback*

“Maybe you could sense that the Dora’s were close on our tails.” Bucky suggested. 

“No, we all knew that they’d come for Zemo eventually.” You dismissed the idea. “I think it was after seeing Zemo treat you like him again.” 

Bucky remained silent. 

“I don’t think I ever told you how proud I was of you that day.” You folded your arms over your chest as you leant back on the tub.

“You didn't need to.” Bucky assured you. “I already knew.” 

You watched Bucky leave the bathroom so you could change. 

When you had returned to the main space again it was just about time to head out again. 

You felt a little nervous as you didn’t really want a fight with Karli since you weren’t 100% but you figured you had felt a hell of a lot worse before.

As you left the apartment, a voice and face you didn’t particularly wanna see called out. 

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John Walker and his little side kick were walking down some stairs towards you. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called back. 

“Come on. You think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar, Walker’s partner, scoffed. 

“No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker pointed out Zemo. 

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky corrected Walker.  

“This better be an unbelievable explana––”

“––Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam interrupted Walker before things could get heated in front of civilians.

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo kept walking as the others stopped. 

“Well, where?” Walker asked, stopping Zemo by stepping in his way. 

“All we know is it’s a memorial. So, we’re gonna intercept her there.” Sam informed them.

“That means civilians. High risk of casualties.” Lemar relaid to his partner as you continued to walk.

“All right, good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.” Walker started to talk through his plan when Sam stopped him. 

“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” Walker argued with Sam. 

“Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable. Now is the best time to reason with her.” Sam was trying to defend his reasoning but Walker wasn’t having it. 

“What? No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Walker ran up ahead to stop everyone again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.” 

“Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you, man.”Lemar tried backing up his partner. 

“If I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die.” Sam handed over the other scenario. 

“You’ll let him do this?” Walker looked between you and Bucky. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse.” Bucky told him flatly. “And he’s not my partner.”

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is in my wheelhouse.” Sam walked past you and Bucky to face Walker.

“I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Walker still wasn't on board. 

“Wait, John.” Lemar stopped Walker.  “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.”  

“Thank god Battle-scar here has some sense.” You declared. 

“It’s Battle Star actually.”Lemar smiled at you but you ignored him. 

“We’ll deal with you later.” Walker told Zemo as he caved in.

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo lead you towards the young girl he had spoken to earlier that day. 

“Hello, my friend. This is for your family. Can you show us the way?” Zemo handed her some money and the girl beckoned for you all to follow.  

“What the hell?” Walker seemed a little confused by Zemo’s ‘associate’ being 12.

The girl lead you to the building where the funeral was being held and you all waited for a signal. 

“Karli’s in there.” Zemo announced as the girl ran off. 

Sam went in whilst Walker cuffed Zemo. 

“You got 10 minutes. Then we are doing things my way.” Walker told Sam before he left. 

“Aggressive.” Zemo mumbled after being handcuffed. “But I get it.”

You rolled your eyes subtly at both Walker and Zemo. 

You took up a position by the door with Bucky. 

You watched Walker sit down, his grip on the shield was tight as he slowly huffed in and out. 

You frowned as you studied the man. Your eyes glanced over to Zemo who was also watching Walker. 

You shared a look before you let your eyes fall back down to your feet.  

“Uh-uh. No, no, no. This is a bad idea.” Walker started to pace as he let his impatience get the best of him. 

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky sighed unimpressed by the young solder. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me.” Walker glared back at Bucky. 

“Sam knows what he’s doing.” You backed Bucky up. 

You all watched Walker stop as he thought. His heavy breathes causing his chest to rise up and down quickly. 

“I’m goin’ in.” Walker didn’t want to listen anymore. He stormed towards the door but both you and Bucky stepped in his way.

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” Walker didn’t even look at you as he squared up to Bucky. 

That really bothered you.

You took hold of the man’s upper arm and yanked him to look at you. 

“You may be Captain America right now but we don’t follow you. We said we’d give him 10 minutes. So, he’s getting 10 minutes.” You glowered at the man. 

“Your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Walker leant towards you, trying to be intimidating but it wasn’t working. 

“Just wait.” You looked the man in the eye with a subtle threat in your stare. His jaw clenched as he tugged his arm away from you. 

Walker went back to look at the clock again. 

After a couple more minutes, he tried once more. 

“Time’s up! Our turn.” Walker didn’t hesitate to push past you as he charged ahead. 

Bucky kept his tongue in his cheek as he watched it happen. 

You and Bucky stayed behind Walker and his partner as they marched ahead.

“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” Walker announced as he entered the room. 

“This is what that was?” Betrayal flashed across Karli’s face as she looked at Sam. 

“No, wait––” Sam didn’t have a chance now that Walker had intervened.

“––Tricking me until help came?” Karli started to back away. 

“We had enough time to talk.” Walker exclaimed as he headed straight for Karli. 

“Nazi! “ Karli wasn't going the easy way. She hit Walker back and he went straight into a table. 

Lemar tried to keep you and Bucky back but you had easily managed to get round him to chase after Karli. 

Bucky being what he was managed to get ahead of you but you were close on their trail. 

Sam had found his own way but ultimately you all lost Karli. 

“I lost her.” Bucky sighed.

“This place is a maze.” Sam looked around at the several doorways with a frown. 

The sound of gunshots is what caught your attention next. 

“Come on.” You rushed through the building trying to get to the source. 

You didn’t manage to get there before Walker did. 

Zemo was unconscious on the floor and vials of the serum were smashed around the concrete floor. 

“What happened?” You asked as you looked down at the mess. 

“He was shooting at Karli. I stopped him but she got away.” Walker lifted his shield a little to symbol how he had stopped Zemo. 

“Let’s get him up.” Sam started down the stairs and you followed. 

Zemo woke up after a little encouragement and some smelling salts. You had decided it was best if you split up on your way back to the apartment. 

You and Sam were going to stay with Zemo and see if you can dig up anything on socials and the computer and Bucky was going to do a round and see if she had holed up anywhere familiar. 

Sam sat at his computer, he was contacting Sharon whilst you stood with your phone searching Twitter to see if any Flag Smashers appearances or Karli were popping up in recent tweets. 

Zemo laid down on the couch with a wet towel and a strong glass of scotch. 

“You got anything?” Sam asked you. 

“Nothing. I don’t think we’ll find her this time if she doesn’t want us too.” You put your phone down in defeat. It wasn't usual for people to give her Karli’s location anyway. 

“I think you’re right.” Sam hated to agree but this was the first time you had come close to actually talking Karli down and it failed. 

“And now with the serum’s gone. Who knows what her next move will be.” You knew that Karli didn’t have the option to create more super soldiers now and that gives her a disadvantage. The idea of an army is gone now and she would only have her current foot soldiers to help her. 

Zemo moved for the first time in ten minutes as he lifted his cold compress. 

“Were you ever offered it?" He asked aloud. 

“What?” Sam furrowed his brow at the man. 

“The serum.” Zemo replied. 

“No.” Sam smirked at the idea. 

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?” Zemo inquired. 

“No.” Sam answered instantly, his smile dropping. 

“No hesitation. That’s impressive.” Zemo nodded before removing his towel. “Sam. (Y/n). You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam queried. “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” There was a silence from Zemo. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” 

Before the conversation could continue, the door opened and Bucky strode inside.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky stated as he removed his jacket. 

“You don’t say.” Sam huffed with amusement. It was clear as day that Walker was at his wits end with the pressure on him.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.” Bucky poured himself a glass of whiskey. You rolled your eyes at his statement. 

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam retorted. 

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky was back on this topic again. 

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam rose to his feet to face Bucky.

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” Bucky sipped on his drink just as the doors flew open. 

All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Walker commanded, his face red and his ears steaming. 

“Hey, slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’ll need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Sam approached Walker to try and pump his breaks. 

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam, huh?” Walker chuckled softly as Sam remained silent. “Yeah. Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head at the man’s antics. 

Walker put down the shield but the only thing flying next was a spear that struck the pillar by Walker’s head. 

It was the Dora Milaje. 

They had come for Zemo. 

From your time in Wakanda you understood the language as Ayo spoke to Bucky. 

“Even if he is a means to an end. Your time is up.” Ayo reverted back to English. “Release him to us now.” 

Walker introduced himself to Ayo, not that she cared for him.

“Well let’s, uh, put the pointy sticks down and we can talk this through, huh?” Walker suggested, only to be met, yet again, by silence from the Dora’s.

“Hey, John, take it easy. You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.” Sam tried to warn him but he wasn’t backing down. 

“They don’t have jurisdiction here––”

“––The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Ayo cut Walker short. 

“Okay.” John chuckled lightly. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Walker made the mistake of putting his hand on Ayo’s shoulder. 

Ayo responded with an attack. 

The surrounding Dora’s fell into defence positions as Ayo and Walker fought.  Lemar bounced into action, trying to help his partner out but it only warranted in more fighting. Or more asses getting kicked by the Dora Milaje. 

“We should do something.” Sam said as you, him and Bucky stood together watching. 

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky called out. 

“Bucky!” You tried not to laugh as you scolded the man. 

“Guys...” Sam nodded to Ayo about to strike John with her spear which made Bucky reluctantly intervene. 

“Ayo, let’s talk about this.” Bucky only landed himself directly in the mess. 

You realised how serious this was as Ayo didn’t hold back and went ahead to help Bucky. Sam went over to help Lemar but was met by more Dora's.

You grunted as one of the women attacked you. You had almost forgotten just how incredible they were at combat. Almost. 

You were backed against a wall with the spear to your chest when the room fell silent. 

You looked over at Bucky to see his arm was on the floor. 

You wanted to move towards him but you were stuck until orders were given to release you. 

“He is gone. Leave it.” Ayo had opened the bathroom doors to reveal the manhole had been opened. Zemo had escaped. 

You were trying to slow your breathing when finally the Dora’s fell back. 

She retracted her spear and left with Ayo and the others. 

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked Bucky as he pushed himself off the floor. 

Bucky reattached his arm. He groaned as he swung it round to adjust it. 

“No.” He said but the shock on his face from before had already given away that answer. 

You looked past Bucky to where Walker was still on the floor. 

“You all right, man?” Lemar offered his hand to help him up. 

“They weren’t even Super Soldiers.” You heard Walker mutter. 

“Come on.” Lemar tugged him to his feet. 

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.” Sam walked over to the bathroom and stared at the hole. 

“I can.” Bucky wasn’t really that surprised and neither were you truthfully. 

“Come on.” You beckoned the boys out of the apartment so you could talk. 

You got down to the streets and away from Walker before you spoke again. 

“Walker isn’t stable. He’s on the brink of cracking.” You kept your voice low as you spoke to the boys. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 

“We may not like him but he’s not stupid. He knows that he can’t be Steve, do the things Steve did and it’s killing him. He's so obviously trying to win this fight by himself and it’s going to drive him insane if he isn’t the one to beat Karli.” 

“But he can’t beat Karli. You saw her kick him across the room like he was a cardboard box.” Sam reminded you of what happened earlier. 

“We have to get to Karli before he does because he’s either gonna stop her or kill himself trying.” You weren't worried for the man but worried about what would happen if he finally snapped. 

Suddenly, Sam’s phone started to ring. It was his sister. 

“She said what? Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know. Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys...” Sam sounded worried. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked. 

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Sam told you both. “Okay. Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash. All right? Tell me when you arrive. I know. Look, I love you. I’ll never let anything happen to you and the boys. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and then immediately texted an unknown number. 

“What does she want?” You knew Karli was desperate but threatening kids was a different story.

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone buzzed with a new text. “She said come alone.”

“We’re coming with you.” Bucky wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 

“Alright but keep your distance.” Sam didn’t bother to fight you on it. “We better suit up.” 

You suited up by adding a few more weapons to your body. You placed your favourite thigh holsters on that held your Vibranium knives out on display. 

Sam got his wings and soon you were at the location. 

“Karli!” Sam bellowed as you entered the building. 

Karli leant over a balcony to make herself seen. You remained on the ground floor but looked up at the girl. Bucky followed Sam. 

“You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?” Sam was upset and understandably so. 

“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Karli confessed.“I see you, um, didn’t come alone.”Karli peered down at you then up at Bucky. 

“You have to end this now.” Sam told her. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re a tool in the regimes I’m looking to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you, it’d be meaningless. I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favour and let me go.” Karli spoke pretty boldly for someone who seemed to be alone. Super Soldier or not. 

“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice came through on Sam’s intercom. 

“It’s Walker.” Sam looked down at you and then Bucky. 

Karli jumped from the balcony at the realisation the jig was up but Bucky was quick to jump too. 

Karli kicked Bucky back but you managed to weaken Karli as you flipped over and kicked her in the jaw. 

Sam put her down momentarily as he flew down and kicked her also. 

“I’ll send you the location. Go!” Sam ordered both you and Bucky before he took off. 

You knew Bucky would be fast enough to run there but you didn’t have that luxury. 

You crossed the street to a parked motorbike and opened up it’s wiring. Just as you managed to get it running, Sam’s coordinates came through. 

You docked your phone and set off. 

You dodged through the narrow streets and traffic to arrive at another large building. Karli must have a favour for buildings you could get lost in. 

You drove through the doors and skidded to a stop. 

Bucky had gotten there before you. You could hear his grunts from a flight or two up. 

You raced up them only to be met by a super soldier fighting Bucky. 

You sent a knife forward, it embedded itself into the man’s soldier, he cried out which gave Bucky some time to throw him down the stairs. 

You tucked up, over the tumbling body, holding onto the railing and the wall. 

Bucky jumped over the rails and with one final blow knocked the soldier unconscious. 

“Stay there.” Bucky told him before climbing back up to you. He thanked you for the help, handing you back the knife that had been in the man’s shoulder. 

You then both went ahead to find Sam and Walker. 

They were fighting more super soldiers a floor up. 

You didn’t hesitate to go in for the attack.

You pulled a knife and threw it to Bucky for help; he caught it midair. 

You screamed with frustration as the soldier you were fighting, pulled your arm behind you and slammed you into the pillar. You managed to swivel around, taking out the soldiers legs as you freed your arm. 

You threw a knife into both his biceps. You only intended to injure, not kill, them anyway. 

He groaned as he pulled them and tried to use them against you. 

All at once, the fighting stopped when you all witnessed Karli kick Lemar into one of the concrete pillars. 

Lemar’s body slumped down with blood painted across his lips. 

John broke free from his attacker and slowly made his way over to Lemar. 

From the sight of the body, you already knew he wasn’t walking out of there. 

Walker desperately tried to wake him up. 

That’s when Karli took her chance to flee. 

You and the boys took off after her but lost her again pretty quickly. 

When you rounded the building, you saw a crowd gathering. 

What you saw next made you feel psychically sick. 

John Walker stood above Karli’s right hand man, blood splattered up Steve’s shield and across his uniform. 

He had killed the man in front of all these civilians. He had killed a man as Captain America. 

(PART 5 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tag List

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[blondiebarnes]

in the middle

summary: steve and bucky just got home from a tough mission, and you’re determined to make them feel good.

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! threesome, male & female receiving oral, established relationship, cumplay, basically just porn

word count: 6.5k

For the most part, you’ve gotten used to being by yourself when Steve and Bucky are on missions.

You don’t like it - not in the slightest - it goes without saying that you’d love nothing more than to go on missions with them when they’re called in the dead of night but it hardly, if ever, works out that way. They’re nearly always sent together (Fury says they balance each other out, and you’re not exactly sure you know why or how but you’ve learned to accept whatever your director says at face value) and you’re generally excluded from their missions. They get too protective, can ignore the objectives of a mission when you’re in danger, and it’s a sweet sentiment but you know it’s an issue, even if you appreciate it.

And you are used to it. Really, you are. It’s been a year of having them called off in the middle of the night, leaving you sleeping in bed with a lingering kiss to your forehead as you dip out the door - occasionally they’ll wake you up (usually Bucky, because he tends to be a bit more sentimental, though he’d never dare to admit it) and give you a proper kiss, but for the most part you simply wake up in a too-large bed that’s void of the two super soldiers sandwiching you between their warm bodies, and it never fails to feel any more jarring.

That’s what happened Friday. You simply woke up on a day like any other and they were gone, leaving nothing but ruffled covers and a small sticky note pressed to your cell phone in Steve’s scribbled handwriting, telling you that it shouldn’t last more than the weekend and we love you so much and a small smiley face that looks to be more of Bucky’s doing, but you can’t be sure.

It had been a long weekend.

Movies and books and making dinner, and work had been so slow recently with no new missions on the come-up that you need to be called away on, so you’ve been primarily holed up in your apartment watching the time tick by and waiting for your boys to come home. You’d even called Nick at one point, in your boredom, to inquire about how their mission was going, and he told you (paraphrased, of course) that they were doing just fuckin’ great and should be home by Monday, and Monday couldn’t have fucking come any slower.

You’ve been lying awake for nearly three hours since you settled into bed on Sunday night, covers pulled tight against your chin to protect yourself from the January cold that nips at your skin, even after you’ve set the thermostat to 71 degrees. Steve likes it cold - Bucky warm - you laugh at the irony of it, much to the latter’s chagrin - and you prefer it being right in the middle.

The TV plays on mute a rerun of some old movie you’ve never heard of, black and white film running rickety slow and glitching, though you’ve long since given up paying attention to it. You’d been on Pinterest for an hour before getting bored and plugging your phone in on your nightstand, and you’d begun flipping through one of Steve’s favorite books he loves to read to you sometimes, and now - you simply gaze at the ceiling in your boredom, fingers interlocked on top of your stomach, boredom settling in every crevice of your body.

You’re not sure what, exactly, you’re waiting awake for. Not even sure if you’re waiting or simply unable to sleep - it feels like a 50/50 situation, at least at the moment - but there’s still something inherently wrong with sleeping in bed without your boys. Curling into Bucky’s chest while Steve is pressed to his back, the latter’s hand wrapped around to rest on your lip while a metal hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast just to hear the way you squeal at the chill - or, alternatively, sandwiching yourself between them as Steve practically throws his mass on top of you and Bucky squishes your face into his hard back.

Empty. You feel empty, in more ways than one, and that’s what’s keeping you awake, you decide after a long fifteen minutes of contemplating on it. Your boys complete you. It’s not right without them -

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the front door knob jiggling from across the apartment, and you jerk upright as though someone had doused you with freezing cold water (not that it would be much of an adjustment from the temperature your apartment feels, but the implication still stands.)

If you were smarter - or perhaps less groggy - maybe you’d dig through your nightstand for the gun you keep in case of any intruders, buried beneath notebooks and stray pieces of paper decorated with small smudged sketches that Steve puts on any smooth surface he can find. It’s loaded and ready to go - all you’d need to do is dig through and grab it, creep outside the bedroom door and take down whomever may be invading your home -

Just as you roll onto your side to dig through your drawer and find the weapon, the front door fully opens with a jingle of keys and the scuffling sounds of footsteps, and you pause, listening to the voices that roll through the apartment, hushed and breathy.

“Fuckin’ - tripped over my foot,” comes a familiar voice, louder than the one who follows right after him, murmuring for him to shut the hell up - are you trying to wake up the entire city? -

You’re out of bed faster than you can even process, covers mercilessly kicked to the very bottom of the bed in your haste. The hardwood is cold against your bare feet and the air bites at your skin, wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old t-shirts that falls to your mid thighs and a pair of lace panties that peeks out of the shirt when you bend over or reach up or do anything, really - it’s a bit of a scandalous look - but you pay no mind to it, opening the door and tearing down the hallway into the foyer.

You’ve smacked into a hard, thick body before you could stop yourself, arms thrown around Steve’s torso as you bury your face into his chest, and you can practically feel his deep laugh before you hear it but you do hear it, clear as day, and it brings a grin to your face that’s only deepened when Bucky tugs at your waist, pulling you into his back, arms wrapped around your stomach as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fury said you guys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow,” you tell them, letting your body relax into Bucky’s embrace as Steve traces his fingers across your jawline, tilting your head up so he can press one light kiss to your puckered lips. His arms snake around your waist, sandwiched between your back and Bucky’s chest, fingertips clutching tight onto the loose fabric of the shirt you’re donning and he uses it as leverage to hold you closer to him.

“It was an easy one,” Steve replies, leaning forward just a bit until you’re fully pressed between the two soldiers, your head squished into his chest as he inhales the scent of your shampoo, nose buried into the top of your head. “Can’t believe you called Fury about it - missed us that much, hmm?”

A dry chuckle jostles the body behind you, feeling Bucky’s warm laughter against your neck, and you bite on your bottom lip as you nod. “‘Course I missed you - don’t get cocky -” for you’d just caught sight of Steve’s smug grin, toying his lips upward, and you use the top of your head to push him away from you in mock disgust, leaning further into Bucky’s grasp. He hums softly, breath ruffling your hair, messy from your failed attempts to sleep. “S’so lonely here.”

“Aww,” murmurs Bucky, lips pressing warm kisses into the exposed expanse of your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to give him easier access as Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the pair of you at work. “Poor baby.”

“Hey -” you reach behind you, running your hands through long, brunette locks just to feel the way Bucky smiles against your skin. “At least you two have each other on missions, getting each other off - I’m here all by myself. Nothin’ but the fingers.” “There’s a lot less time to get your rocks off in the middle of a mission than you’d think.”

“Is there?” you inquire playfully as Bucky’s lips trail further up your neck, landing on a spot just beneath your jawline and suckling the soft skin - the teasing lilt in your voice that you’d intended to sound confident and self-assured gets breathier and just a tad more pathetic as you continue, “Sam and I always seem to have enough time -”

Bucky grunts against your cheek, murmuring something you can’t quite make out about how he hates that fuckin’ bird boy, and a grin spreads across your face that mirrors Steve’s as he watches you. Bucky tilts your head to the side with two fingers pressed to your chin so he can ghost his lips over yours but you deepen it, pushing your face further into his as you wrap one of your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair to hear him groan into your mouth and you swallow the noise. You can practically sense Steve rolling his eyes both at your teasing and the way Bucky’s absolutely devouring you, the metal hand around your waist trailing up your torso and leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches your chest, cold fingers plucking at your nipple, and your chest arches into his hand with a broken gasp into his mouth.

“Better tell Sam not to touch what isn’t his,” Steve tells you, and you nod, watching the blonde take a few steps forward and for a moment you wonder if he’ll lean down, take your lips from Bucky’s and kiss you until you’re practically putty in his hands but instead he pushes past the both of you, disappearing down the hallway behind you, and you crane your neck backwards to watch his back as he vanishes around a corner.

For a moment you wonder if Bucky hadn’t seen him leave, continuing his ministrations on your nipples as his teeth bite at your bottom lip as though there’d been no interruption, his mouth turning up into a smug smirk at the way you whimper into his mouth. God, you’ve missed his touch, clever hands knowing exactly how to make you fall apart for him even without slipping into the lace of your panties, and your mouth opens in a silent gasp as his flesh palm presses to the skin of your stomach.

“Wanna go see Stevie?” the soldier questions into your mouth, voice low and sultry smooth, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Tough mission for him.”

You frown at that as Bucky pulls away from you, leaving one lingering kiss to the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt down over your lower half. “Thought he said it was easy.”

“It was,” and that makes your brows furrow as his metal hand wraps around your wrist, beginning to pull you down the hallway where your bedroom door is swung wide open. “But Fury ripped him a new one, ‘cause he disobeyed his orders - got the mission done fine - but you know how Stevie hates having his authority questioned.”

Your lips part in a silent o, and Bucky smirks ever so slightly before leading you into the bedroom where Steve sits at the edge of the bed, peeling off his suit and kicking it off of his ankles. Bucky shuts the door behind you, immediately working at tugging his vest over his head and you leave him to it, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor until you reach Steve, and you merely stand before him until he’s finished taking his clothes off, leaving him clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Do you need something?” Steve questions, glancing up at you with an amused glint in his eyes and you groan, lifting your leg up to straddle his lap, calves on either side of his, and his hands go to rest on the underside of your thigh like an instinct. For a moment you don’t say anything, grinding your hips down into his until his hands slide up your back, tugging your shirt up over your torso so he can press his cold palms to the globes of your ass, halting you in place. “Words, baby.”

“Want you to boss me around,” you tell him, dropping your lips to the side of his throat, and his dry exhale of a laugh blows at your hair as his fingers slip beneath the scrap of lace between your ass, fully digging into the plump skin, and you smile against his neck. “Missed you bein’ bossy.”

“Really?” You nod, feeling the bed dip beside you until there’s another set of hands on your body, tugging the hem of your shirt up until you’re forced to remove your lips from Steve’s neck so Bucky can pull your shirt off, littering it onto the ground beside you. Steve leans his head back as both you and Bucky lean forward, your lips to his throat and the other soldier taking his lips so that the next words he speaks are muffled into the kiss, “Sure Bucky didn’t put you up to this, baby?”

“Who’s Bucky?” 

That makes both of them laugh into each other and you smile, leaning back in his lap as you take in the sight of them - lips crashed together, metal hand burying itself in blonde locks that he hasn’t cut in a while, hair brushing the tips of his ears, and Steve’s hand that had been on your ass drops, seemingly forgotten about his job - you huff, wrap your hand around his wrist, and lift his palm up to rest against your left breast.

Instinctively he squeezes, and the two men pull apart from each other as Bucky leans forward to kiss the top of your head, flesh hand sliding down your stomach until he can push into the damp lace fabric of your panties, and you jolt against his hand as he brushes your clit. “Can’t possibly think we forgot about you,” he tells you, and you shrug, watching the way he smiles. “Come on, Stevie, you heard her - wants you to boss her around.”

And Steve is surely still doubtful of your intentions - it isn’t as though you’ve ever asked him to boss you around before - it typically just happens when he’s pissed or upset or happy -

It happens a lot. He’s a bossy guy, both in the field and out of it, and he’s more than happy to give demands and orders and he loves to see you follow them.

Bucky is - usually along for the ride. He’s the calming voice in your ear when Steve is edging you until you’re screaming, the gentle touch when you’ve been overstimulated for an hour, the smooth, sultry kiss when you’re being filled so deep from both ends you feel entirely numb - and he can be mean, too, metal hand tightening around your throat and smirking at the way you sob -

Well, it depends.

“Get on the bed,” Steve tells you, and regardless of whether he’s suspicious of you and Bucky his voice is already hardening and if the words weren’t implicitly sexual, perhaps you could fool yourself into thinking you’re on the field - you listen, though. You always do - swing your legs off of his lap and land on your back on the bed, watching as Steve stands and Bucky merely turns around, leaning back on his arms as he watches you, your leg hiked up to give a limited, tantalizing view to the lace covered pex of your thighs.

“Buck - wanna get behind our girl?”

The phrase our girl never fails to make your stomach flutter, and the feeling only intensifies as Bucky grunts in affirmation, crawling towards you, and with hands hooked under your armpits he lifts you to sit, your back pressed to his chest. Hands reach up to your chest, cupping your tits in flesh and metal palms that have a chill rolling through your spine, hips grinding back against the erection you can feel pressed into your back.

“Spread your legs,” Steve tells you, and you oblige, feet sliding across the bed to spread yourself as wide open as you can, and Bucky’s metal hand leaves your chest to grab onto one of your thighs, forcing it open wide enough that a burn spreads through your muscle. “Yeah - don’t fuckin’ move, baby - hold her down, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, moving his other hand so he’s holding both of your thighs, and you can feel wetness dripping down your cunt onto the sheets as Steve stands still, for a moment, just watching the pair of you - your chest heaves and you can feel Bucky’s fingers twitch against your thighs, surely desperate to caress your tits just the way he always likes to, but he wouldn’t dare disobey Steve when he’s like this. You know it, and he knows it, and you’re sure Steve knows it too - he looks so smug, even as he climbs onto the bed, resting on his stomach as he presses his cheek into your thigh, warm breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers hook into the soaked material of your panties, feeling the stickiness that coats your folds and the undergarment, and with not a second of hesitation he rips them in half, tugging them off your leg and tossing the ruined scrap of lace onto the ground.

Your instinct is to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue flicking once over your clit, but the second your hands jerk in their spot resting overtop of Bucky’s, Steve is reaching up - one hand manages to wrap around both of your wrists, holding your hands in place on top of your stomach with a grip so tight it’ll surely leave bruises that will darken in the morning.

You groan softly as Steve lifts his head, gaze hard and unforgiving as he stares at you, and then his gaze moves behind you where you know he must be having some sort of silent conversation with Bucky - they’re so good at that - before he’s leaning back down, teeth gnashing at your clit with enough force to make you jolt.

“Think Stevie said not to fuckin’ move, sweetie,” Bucky murmurs, lips sucking a dark hickey just beneath your ear, and a low whine escapes your throat as Steve’s tongue laps up your sticky folds before centering on your clit. “Didn’t you, honey?” And Steve hums in affirmation, pulling back to spit harshly at your clit, and you exhale skaily as you feel the glob of coldness trickle down your folds. “Move again, and I’ll punish you,” he tells you, which is more generous than he typically is when he’s in this state but you suppose the excitement of arriving home after a shitty, weekend mission must not have worn out yet. “Be a good girl for us, baby.”

You nod furiously, Bucky’s forearms hooking beneath your knees until the ache in your thighs nearly tips the balance of pain and pleasure but it’s still leaning towards the latter - more so as Steve dips his head back down, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub at your core that tears a moan from your throat, and you bite at your lips to try and silence the noises.

“Never told you to be quiet,” Steve mumbles against your cunt, vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up your spine, and Bucky smiles against one of the many hickies he’s leaving on your neck - you’re sure you’ll look a damn sight tomorrow, made of practically entirely concealer to hide the marks he’s obsessed with, but you don’t have it in you to stop. “Let us hear your noises - how good we’re making you feel.”

You drop your head back into Bucky’s shoulder with a desperate cry as Steve’s flexed tongue circles your clit before running back down your slit, parting your folds until he can slip his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out a few times, lips turning upwards at your resulting whine. Bucky’s nails leave deep, crescent-shaped indentations in the smooth skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel his erection pressed thick and swollen against your back. Surely he’s just as wound up as you are - and as much as Steve is, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as though of their own accord - but he doesn’t do much of anything at all to alleviate the pressure, breathy exhales in your ear as your hips rub against his bulge.

“Wanna hold her open for me, Buck?” Steve questions, pulling back just a mere inch from your swollen clit before dipping his head back down, tongue licking a fat stripe through your folds before lust-blown blue orbs lift up to meet the ones behind you - you can feel Bucky’s hair, brushing against your cheek as he nods once, and your brows furrow in confusion. Surely he’s already holding you open, hands forcing your thighs so far apart that you can feel the burn in every inch of your body - and then he drops one of your thighs against the bed, metal hand trailing down to your cunt, and his fingers dip through your folds, spreading them apart and exposing your swollen clit further to the blonde between your legs. Steve adjusts himself, moving towards the side so he can press his face into your pussy without hitting Bucky’s fingers, and his tongue circles your clit once more.

You moan at the sight, nearly going cross eyed as you stare down at Steve. It’s so erotic, watching everything in your most sacred of areas, Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s face buried so intensely into your cunt you’re sure he can’t possibly breathe - he moans against your folds every so often, as though the act of giving you pleasure makes him feel just as good, and you don’t doubt it for a moment.

“Steve -” you gasp, back arching up, and Steve uses his hand around your wrist to force you back down onto the bed wordlessly - you drop pathetically back onto the duvet, a tear sliding down your cheek, and you can hear Bucky tut behind you, cold fingers slipping on the moisture coating your folds. “Steve - fuck -”

“Gonna cum, baby?” “Yes,” you breathe, hips bucking backwards into Bucky’s erection and he lets out a choked gasp into your ear, head falling back against the headboard with a loud thud that rings through the room. “Yes, need to - please -”

Steve pulls away, then - you cry out at the loss of warmth between your legs - and his nose nudges Bucky’s fingers, prompting the soldier behind you to take the cue to dip his metal digits into your cunt, the cold thickness stretching you out until you’re preening at the sensation. “Think she’s been a good girl? Think she should cum, Buck?”

You want to scream at the pause between the question and Bucky’s answer - he hums for a moment, as though in deep thought, fingers buried down to the knuckle inside of you and body practically leaning over yours so his metal arm can reach, brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go fuzzy. He takes too fucking long, Steve’s grasp on your wrist pressed to your tummy the only thing keeping your hips from bucking up to force pressure into your cunt, before he finally says, “You’ve been good for us, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” you practically squeal as his fingers pull out hardly an inch before pumping back in, curling upwards again to hit your G-spot. “Yes, please, been so good, Bucky -”

“Cum for us, sweetie -”

You hardly wait for him to finish his sentence when Steve lowers his lips to your clit, wrapping around the bud and sucking until his cheeks hollow out, and your hips jerk desperately into his face as the waves of euphoria rack through your body, tearing a desperate sob from your throat as Bucky thrusts his fingers in and out of you, nearly hitting the side of Steve’s face in his haste to get you off, and he’s doing a damn good job at it - your hips jut into his back as you cum into their mouth and fingers, stuttering groans leaving your mouth one after another.

Steve’s mouth never leaves your clit - not even when your hips thrash against his mouth and you tear your hands free of his grasp to dig into his hair, attempting to stop his ministrations on your clit but he refuses - your folds drip wetness into his waiting mouth and he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, Bucky’s fingers lazily thrusting in and out of you as his chest rises and falls against your back, dropping your other thigh to hook an arm around your torso and hold you close to him.

Hold her down, Steve had told him, and he seems more than content to oblige with the order, whispering loving nothings in your ear that you can’t bring yourself to understand, words coming through as nothing more than incoherent babble to your brain muddled with the pressure to cum already building in your core again -

“Oh,” you whimper, heels digging into the mattress as Steve’s tongue laps over your folds and Bucky’s finger before settling on your clit again, flicking the nub over and over until you feel yourself fucking burst - “oh, fuck!”

It’s entirely more intense than the first one, Steve’s teeth nibbling at your clit as you topple over the edge like a row of dominoes - fire shoots through every limb, every crevice of your body until you’re shaking, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes and trickling down to your jawline. Your thighs tense, a high pitched cry piercing the air of the room as the aftershocks overtake your body, leaving you trembling into Bucky’s grasp as Steve pulls off your clit with a pop.

“That’s good,” Bucky whispers into your ear, pulling his metal fingers out of you once the shaking rolling through your body has come to a relative halt - through your blurred vision you can see Steve take the digits in his mouth, licking them clean eyes rolling up to meet Bucky’s, and he groans softly. “Good girl.”

Steve leaves one last kiss to your swollen clit before moving up your body, and you’re quick to lean forward, wrapping a quivering arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss - it’s rough and biting, teeth clashing together and his tongue swiping into your mouth without a moment for you to catch your breath, and when he pulls away his breathing is noticeably heavier than before. 

“Yeah, you’re good for us,” he tells you, bringing a hand up to stroke at the soft skin of your cheek before pulling it back and smacking it back down - it’s not hard, not by a long shot, but it’s enough to draw another whimper from your throat at the soft sting. “On your knees.”

Your legs feel shaky but you manage to push yourself to your knees, resting your arms around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself up as Bucky shuffles behind you, slotting his hips against your ass so you can feel his bulge through his boxers - he grinds himself into your ass, sliding his arms around your waist just as Steve tugs his own boxers down, fist lazily pumping his cock as you watch him.

“You know what?” the blonde murmurs after a moment of you watching him, your cunt throbbing in need. “Think I’m gonna take your throat.”

You whine at that as Steve pulls away abruptly, leaving you nearly collapse onto your stomach but Bucky’s arm around your stomach mercifully holds you up, practically manhandling you as he turns you around, shoving you onto your back with your head nearly dangling off the bed as he crawls up your body, leaving lingering kisses on the smooth expanses of skin exposed to him. Large hands force your thighs open, pushing his hips in between your legs, and you whimper as his cock rubs against your overstimulated clit, even through the fabric of his boxers -

Steve stands beside the bed, smoothing his fingers through your matted hair as you come face to face with his cock, throbbing red and leaking precum down the sides, and your mouth practically waters at the sight - then Bucky’s pulling his own boxers down, swollen tip of his dick sliding through your sodden folds wettened from the aftermath of two orgasms. You push your thighs farther apart, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for Steve and he grins down at you, the expression looking less joyful and more downright smug and don’t you love seeing him like this? All dominant and intense, like he could control you if he pleased, and he does please -

His cock shoves forward into your throat at the same moment Bucky sheathes himself inside of your cunt fully, and a choked cry forces its way out of your mouth, reverberating through Steve’s body until he lets out a strangled grunt. Your nose brushes against the trimmed hair at his pelvis, hollowing your throat to take him in the best you can, and his grip on your hair tightens as leverage to hold you onto him.

“Oh - oh, shit,” Bucky gasps, the noise stuttered and breathy, and the hands on your thigh move up to squeeze your waist, grasp tough and bruising against your skin. “Fuck, fuck -”

You gag around Steve as he finally pulls out of your mouth, leaving just the tip on your tongue, and you swirl it around him - he drops his head back with a groan and when he speaks, his words are shallow, controlled - “Feels good, Buck?”

“So good, Stevie -” Bucky thrusts himself out of you before pushing back in, cunt stretching around his girth and your eyes roll back at the coil of pleasure already building in your lower stomach as his pace picks up, hips working faster and faster until the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers your desperate mixture of moans and cries -

Nearly. Not completely.

Steve tugs at your hair and you remember your job to suck him off and you let him push your head forward, lips wrapping around his girth and tongue flattening to lap at the thick vein on the underside - his resulting groan is immediate, is desperate, and your urge to smile is only thwarted by Bucky’s metal hand pressing to your clit as his hips slam against yours.

Your hips jerk against his, pressure on the most sensitive point of your body making your eyes roll back once more as Steve’s cock slides in and out of your throat, both hands buried tight in your hair until there’s nothing else you can do than just take both of them - you bring your hands from their spot clutching the duvet to your tits, shaking fingertips kneading at your peaked nipples, and you’re not sure if the needy whine that emits from Bucky’s throat is due to his cock slamming into your pussy or from the sight of you toying with your boobs, but either one is reasonable, you decide.

It takes hardly a moment to work the three of you into a rhythm, but when you get it, it’s perfect - Bucky thrusts into you, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel him in every crevice of your body, and once he pulls out Steve pushes himself into your mouth, tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat just to hear you gag around him. Every once in a while, though, there’s a stutter in the pattern, and both men pull out to ram into your cunt and mouth at the same time, and the three of you cry out in unison.

Bucky’s flesh hand moves to your thigh, pushing it up so far that your knee nearly touches your chest and the burn only heightens the pleasure he’s giving you as he hits the sweet spot buried deep in your cunt over and over like he’s memorized exactly where it is - and surely he has - they know your body better than you do, sometimes - know just how to make you scream. Metal fingers tweak at your clit and your hips grind up into his, pushing him deeper and deeper into you, and you moan around Steve’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bucky groans, hips slowing deliberately in pace but it’s still fast enough to make your head spin - Steve moves one hand to your face, grabbing your chin and holding you in place with his cock still halfway down your throat. “Fuck - want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he insists, and your eyes squeeze shut as you exhale through your nose. “Want me to fill you up?”

Steve pulls out until only the tip of his length rests in your mouth, and you swallow thickly before saying, words a desperate sob, “Please - please cum in me, Bucky, baby, please - fill me up -”

“Good girl,” the brunette between your thigh grunts, squeezing your clit harshly and your back arches, Steve slipping his cock all the way back in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and you gag around him as he moans. “Good - fuckin’ - girl -”

With a few more harsh thrusts into your pussy Bucky’s hips halt, pressed taut to yours, filling you to the brim, and his head drops backwards, lips parting with a drawn out, silent scream before he fully cries out, and you feel his ribbons of cum in your cunt - the warmth filling you up is enough to snap the coil building in your abdomen and you sob around Steve as you cum onto Bucky, core clenching around him like a vise as he holds you to him. 

“Yes, yes -” Bucky’s voice sounds far away as your muscles go lax, collapsing like putty onto the bed with the grasps on your head and your hips the only thing grounding you to Earth - “yes, takin’ me so fuckin’ good -”

It’s then that Steve gives one last thrust, deep in your throat, and his grip on your chin forces you to look up at him, meeting his stern eyes and he’s so close you can see it reflected in his orbs - they’re dark, pupils wide, and you whimper. “Don’t swallow,” he whispers, tone sounding similar to that of a hiss, and you nod. “Don’t swallow a single drop.”

Your head bobs up and down as Steve’s hand pumps up and down the base of his cock, his cry strangled and needy when he finally releases into your mouth - he cums in spurts onto your tongue and you keep it stuck out for him, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to swallow everything he’s given you but he looks so proud of you when he’s finished and every drop still rests on your tongue and you prefer that look of admiration over the taste, really.

“Kiss her, Buck -”

And Bucky doesn’t have to be told twice, both hands moving to your neck and pulling you up so vigorously your head is spinning when he crashes his lips to yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips for him, cum dribbling out of the sides of your mouth and he laps it up like a dying man, palms pressed to your tits. You can see the bob of his throat when he swallows everything you’ve forced into his mouth and you swallow the rest, parting your lips from him with a gasp, practically heaving for air in the bedroom that suddenly feels humid, smelling of sex and cum and desire and remarkably like your two boys themselves.

Steve collapses onto the bed first. He grabs for Bucky, tugging him into his chest and you sit on your knees for a moment, simply watching them - they fall into tandem with each other like they were made for it, and maybe they were, Steve’s face nuzzling into Bucky’s back and you’re never surprised by the sudden vulnerability of your captain immediately after sex. The first time you’d joined them you’d suspected he was embarrassed but you don’t think he is 

He’s in love.

It’s a sweet thought.

Bucky wraps his metal hand around your wrist and pulls you down to him, his chin resting on top of your head as you press your cheek to his sweaty chest, feeling his arm wrap around your back. He’s silent, using his foot to kick the comforter up from where it’s been shoved to the bottom of the bed, and when it’s far enough up Steve reaches down to pull it over the three of you, drowning you in its warmth even though you’re not feeling quite cold anymore.

“I don’t know,” you say, after a moment of silence, voice muffled against Bucky’s chest. “It feels like I’m the only one getting ganged up on, nowadays.”

They laugh at that, Bucky’s flesh palm smoothing up and down your back. “You asked for it,” Steve tells you, and you shrug.

“Still.” You move to rest your chin on Bucky’s chest, and he nearly goes cross eyed to meet your eyes as he looks down at you. “Maybe, one of these days, we could tie Stevie up. Have our way with him.”

“He’d love that,” Bucky muses, and you can practically hear Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah - right after a mission, when he’s all wound up -”

“Hey,” Steve warns, and you smile.

“I don’t think there are restraints strong enough for those muscles, anyway,” you murmur, and Bucky smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall into silence again, and after a couple of minutes you hear Steve’s soft snoring, followed by Bucky’s, until you’re the last awake between the three of you. They’re rightfully exhausted, surely getting little to no sleep over the weekend - you like hearing how peaceful they sound when they’re resting, even after fucking you so silly you were practically crying.

You smile as you bury your face into Bucky’s chest. Shit, maybe Fury was right - maybe they do balance each other out, a bit.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Sidequests are part of the story so it’s still my ballpark shut up it’s time for

Read Part 1 here!

Part 2 || Part 3

If you’re on mobile, and tumblr hates this post, follow along on this google doc!

Rules/overview this rewrite in the beginning of Part 1

- - - - - - - - - - 

Side quests, side quests, side quests. What are they? And what are they doing here, on an Age of Calamity rewrite? I must admit, game design is not an inherent forte of mine, and I like to think that my only “expertise” would be on writing and storytelling. So what the fuck is a fool like me doing here

Well my dear ladies, lads, and gentlefolk, if your memory does serve, I did say that the format of Age of Calamity was one that served the major plot and story beats for it’s cutscenes, and its worldbuilding and good parts of it’s character development for its gameplay and side quests. It’s actually a concept that can be seen in shows and movies too, although obviously it’s origins are in TTRPGs and videogames. Definition wise, a side quest is any deviation from the main story and plot that serves to flesh out an optional/overseen aspect of the game. So there’s out perfect outlet for worldbuilding, characters, and even a bit of humour. Side quests, by definition, can’t simply be just XP grinders, because otherwise you could…..just make an XP grinder. It’s like saying you’re getting your kids a bike, but then you get them a stationary exercise one. Sure it’s functionally the same and gives the same benefits, but it could be so much more. 

Does Age of Calamity have good side quests? I’d actually argue, yes. I mean sure, it’s not exactly gonna hold a candle to Fallout or Witcher 3, but there are great memorable side quests that do serve their purposes in this game. 

A fan favourite is “The So-Called Knight,” in which Link spars Mipha, Teba, Sidon, and Revali, a conflict of the Sidon’s confidence and belief in Link, with Revali’s skepticism and grudge against him. Not only is it great fandom content, but it explores the carrying POVs of several characters in a fun way. We also have Hestu’s Dance Competition, and the Miss Vai Battle Pageant. What they lack in serious character tone, they make up for in humour and world building. Even the quests that have nothing to do with the main cast of characters, like the Questionable Escort Mission, still provide funny and interesting details about the world, like how the Yiga Clan is still ever persistent in trying to take down Link with monsters and Windcleavers alike. 

It’s not like those side quests were functionally useless either, all of them still provided great amounts of exp and materials. What specifically made them great and memorable was their small little stories and character/world details. Of course, that’s not to say you can’t have the occasional plotless boss rush every now and again, those are fun in their own right and it’s good to have variety. But just thinking about it...what were everyone’s least favourite sidequests? The timed Yiga Escape?  The ones where you sit around defending strongholds? The one hit death Hair-Width Trials? Ah...so all the least enjoyable side quests were the ones that were difficult, with no enjoyable character or worldbuilding to back it up….interesting interesting….interesting pattern indeed. 

So, let’s improve the game a bit further. I do need to pace out my future character arcs somehow. I tried to make use of the existing quests where I could, but it’s just eaaaasier to just not think about it and do it from scratch. Just shove these in place of all those quests whose only description is “monsters have been spotted here! Take Mipha and go to work!” and stuff like that. Alrighty then! Here’s my take on cool side quests for every single character thus far, along with their paired gambit attacks. Prepare for heists! Drama! Simping! And Bananas!

Link: Mastering Stasis

Ok I have no idea when this quest unlocks so just for my purposes assume this only becomes available after Link pulls the Master Sword. 

Engage the hordes of monsters that have been spotted in Hyrule Field. Now is a great time to master the use of the Stasis Rune. Impa and Zelda accompany you, but it seems stasised monsters aren’t the only thing coming to a tense standstill…

This isn’t anything that special, I just want to further highlight this tension that Zelda and Link have, as it’s something touched upon in Botw, but never really mentioned or used ever in Hwaoc. Now more than ever, Zelda has an excuse to have a rocky relationship with him because she could actively see just how far he’s coming in such a short amount of time. Classic “he probably hates me so I guess I’ll hate him” thing.

You play as Link, the game gives you your little prompts on how to use Stasis, you take out a few hordes of Bokoblins and blah blah blah. I wanted to use an earlier level to establish Zelda’s relationship sooner as obviously it’s gonna be important to the story. But of course like all side quests it won’t kill you to skip out. Text dialogue can be Zelda saying science shit like “This will be a good opportunity to test out the full limits of the Stasis rune” and then Impa’s all “Yep! We got your back, Princess! We’ll clear out these monsters in no time.”Then Link the little angsty shit that he is says nothing, and as you play you clear out more and more bokoblins Zelda just says “...” and then we can toss in a Moblin or two in there for gambit voice stuff.  

Gambit dialogue with Impa would be supportive, her usual spunky dialogue. I had two ideas for Gambit attacks with Link: One where Impa does that thing where she cuts a giant laser through the air, but it’s aimed towards Link and he parries it right in a monster’s FACE because I think it’s badass and also a good way to show trust and stuff. The second thing was Impa’s giant bomb barrels, but Link is the one to somehow ignite them, because he is an arsonist after all. He can even have a chaotic Sheikah blue glint in his eyes like blue flame, I can already picture it so clearly given how anime/dramatic Impa’s movements are. Impa sets bombs, Link *teleports behind Moblin* nothin personal, kid. 

Also right at the end of their gambit attacks, Impa and Link should try to fist bump or something (cause the whole “cool guys don’t look at explosions” thing that Impa usually does on her own) but are interrupted by eggbot jumping up to try and join in. And then Impa can be annoyed and try to punt it or something. That’s not just self-indulgent that’s in her character she totally would and I want to make use of the fact that eggbot travels around with Link. The success of her attempts to punt him can vary.

If Link does a gambit with Zelda, her dialogue can just be her usual monotone Princess stuff, “Thanks for lending your strength,” or “There is still much more to do!” just purely professional, we’re not at a stage yet where she’s buddy buddy with Link. Their gambit attacks can still be cool though. One idea I had was Zelda using stasis, and you know how when you use it in botw everything lights up with that sonar effect? So Link stands besides Zelda, and she activates stasis, the first “sonar” light wave reveals the stasised monster, and you see it from the view of the Sheikah Slate. Then with each additional flash of sonar you just see this silhouette of Link going absolute ham on a monster. And then when the stasis “ding ding ding ding ding” is done, everything’s just dead. Can you see my inspiration from Persona 5 yet? Second idea was Zelda using cryonis and makes an ice ramp for Link to shield surf on and ram into a monster. For entertainment purposes Zelda should also be putting frogs on said slide. (Also also the reason I’m putting Link as the main focus for those gambit attacks is because I want to juxtapose it with future gambits where Zelda may or may not be more powerful…)

Anyhow anyhow, so this side quest, you beat some bokoblins, theres a moblin or two. However as you progress Zelda’s dialogue because a bit more passive aggressive, maybe Zelda can be a bit irritated at how quickly Link is defeating everything before she can even contribute. Impa can comment on this like “She hasn’t exactly been warming up to you, has she…” and then the last point of the side quest, Zelda runs off, there’s a...let’s say a big horde of blue or black Moblins. Or a horde of Wizzrobes, I’m not too picky on it. Link can save her and do a gambit or whatever, but the point of importance is that Zelda leaves with the clear mindset off, “You don’t need to keep coddling me, I can handle my own” to Link, but is “Thank you, I’m glad you’re here,” to Impa. 

Now I stole was inspired to use this based on this comic by @novellanova, and you should check it out here. But basically, at the end when all the monsters are dead and the last few text boxes are rolling, Impa says something like “Gee, at this rate I might have to protect you from the princess! Hmm…. you know, maybe if you two had the opportunity to hang out more and get to know each other, she’d warm up to you! Ha! That’s it! I’ve made up my mind. Listen up Link, from now on I’m gonna let you man the wheel when it comes to protecting Zelda. So with me out of the picture you better take the opportunity to be the nicest, most helpful, and most effective body guard there is. I know you already are, but still, if I hear that one little Chuchu so much as splat in her direction I will take you down...got it?” And, that’s that.

Side quest done. Fun Link gambits with Impa and Zelda, some little character POVs on the situation, plus an explanation as to why Impa doesn’t accompany Zelda everywhere/nods to the cutscenes of Botw as to what happened to Impa. Alright, that was probably the most boring one so let’s move on to

Daruk: A Rumbling Stomach

Alright I’ll be honest...I have no idea what to do with Daruk. Especially when Yunobo’s not here, I got zip-zero to work with considering his character is non-existent. Further down the line I’ll certainly try to give him more nuances and the like, but I’m afraid the majority of my character efforts have been towards Astor, Revali, Zelda, and [REDACTED] so this is my apology ahead of time, rock fuckers.

This is my take on how to make those timed quests more fun. So basically, the premise of this stage is that Daruk was just happily hanging around trying to enjoy his rock roast, when a monster surprised him and he dropped it, and now it’s rolling down the hill. This is based on my real Breath of the Wild experience where I had to trek up that Volcano path to bring a rock roast for that shrine quest, but at the very top I dropped it and had to chase it down before it fell into the lava below. 

Daruk is eager to chow down on the finest rock roasts this year has to offer! It’s too bad things go downhill when monsters start to ambush. Defeat key enemies and rescue Daruk’s tumbling meal before this year’s wait goes to waste!

So, that’s what this is. The stage opens and Daruk says “NOOooOO! My rock roast! Damn monsters!” and you have to defeat baddies and catch up to the rock roast before the timer runs out and it falls into lava. And then when you finish and get back the rock roast that’s pretty much it….except SIKE no it’s not. Because a lot of these timed quests usually have a “surprise! There’s more!” thing at the end so I’ll do that here too. So Daruk has saved his rock roast and he’s talking about how he’s going to enjoy it in all its deliciousness, when he’s cut off by a random Goron’s scream. Turns out, Daruk’s yelling at the monsters about desperation to retrieve his lost lunch has attracted monsters to some traveling civilians, and now you gotta go beat a Talus, or a couple of Moblins, or something...Again I don’t really have level set or idea when these side quests unlock so just use your imagination. Once Daruk defeats the monster(s) the Gorons can thank him, and then one of the Goron kids can be like “Ooo! Is that a super special rock roast?!?” And Daruk is all:  “Ah! Well all the best Goron heroes eat plenty of rocks! This here is the gourmet stuff. You can only get it once a—” And the kid’s like “Woah! I’ve always wanted to have one, that’s why I’ve been training hard so I can explore more of the mountain. Where’d you get it??” And Daruk can sputter a bit, before finally sighing and giving into his instincts. “Ah….well, why don’t you have it? You’re probably really hungry after running around with those monsters…”

“Woah really?? Are you sure—”

“YEAH JUST TAKE IT ALREADY GO”

“Woah, thank you!” and then the Goron kid and co run off. Cue Daruk crying to himself in the background. Daruk may have an appetite, but I like to characterize him as the Goron Hero first and foremost.  

I’m sure that doesn’t stop him from mourning his rock though.

Mipha: Stronger Sentiments

Mipha and Daruk talked a whole bunch about training together so that Mipha can grow stronger, and Daruk was catching on to her crush on Link and it was a nice interaction in between them except for the fact that we never see them do the damn training so that’s what this is.

I think this is as good an opportunity as any to make this a Hair-Width quest, the ones where you can’t take one hit. The difficulty of a level is one of the most effective ways to put the players in the boots of a character to experience the same struggles they do. If the player works hard, then they automatically associate that with the character working hard. So, yeah, let’s have Mipha kicking ass and working to be strong enough to protect Link.

Mipha is determined to grow stronger. Daruk and the other Gorons are helping out with an intense training session by Gut Check Rock. Prove yourself by defeating all the enemies you encounter!

So Mipha is sparring with the Gorons, you fight through them and the captains and blah blah, the final boss is fighting Daruk without getting hit. 

“I promise not to hurt you more than I’m capable of reversing.”

“Ha! Give me all you’ve got, princess!”

You fight, cue the special music or whatever. I mentioned that gambit dialogue/attacks could also work to be custom for the character that you’re fighting, so I’m thinking something like this. Daruk slams the ground and rocks and magma sprout up around him like jagged pieces of glass, but Mipha is no where to be seen. Daruk’s kinda huffing and puffing, “Where’d you go Mipha…” and then FWOOSH, giant geyser right behind him. [yes I KNOW I overuse the *teleports behind you* “nothing personal, kid” thing but I think it’s COOL and you can’t stop me] So anyhow, you know that thing in Avatar where Pakku is just riding at the top of a whirlpool and destroying everything? That’s Mipha.

Daruk turns around and scratches the back of his head. “...huh….that’s not good.” Cue Mipha swooping down to deal the defeating blow. 

So Mipha wins, she can mention how wonderful it was and how much stronger she feels. And she can thank Daruk, and he’s all “No problem!” but he mutters something like “And I thought Gorons hit hard...now I know how Link feels.” End side quest….SIKE it’s another surprise boss at the end. A Goron captain suddenly reports that an Igneo Talus has appeared nearby. 

Mipha goes up to fight it, but wow! Link is already there. They both fight it, but it’s clear that Link didn’t need her help that much. You can defeat the Talus with a Mipha/Link gambit. It’s similar to Link’s usual “swing sword in a giant circle and become a death windmill” but Mipha kinda enhances it with water or something and it puts out the Talus. I wanted this ending with a focus on how strong Link is just to show that while Mipha is improving, she’s still not yet where she needs to be. 

Daruk: “Sorry I wasn’t much help at the end there, I was busy, uh, stretching.”

Mipha: “Oh it’s quite alright, Daruk. We were both quite tired from today’s training.”

Daruk: “Well I dunno about that...seems to me you were quite lively and active as you fought beside Link. *wink*”

Mipha: “Huh!?!? W-What is that supposed to mean??”

Cue laughter from Daruk. Mipha is flustered. And Link is just...confused, as always. 

Urbosa: Mighty Thunder of the Gerudo

So in the game this is just some normal outpost capturing, stronghold defending side quest, but we’re gonna spice it up just a bit. 

An important excavation site is being overrun by monsters, and Urbosa has set out to engage them. Defend and capture the outposts, in order to prevent this valuable place from falling into enemy hands…

So you fight as Urbosa, defeat some enemies and blah blah. When you first arrive there, I want one of the Gerudo Captains to be like “Lady Urbosa? Where did you come—What are you doing here? Aren’t there areas of greater importance for you to be at right now?” Urbosa says something like “Nevermind that now, let us focus on achieving victory over these rotten beasts.” 

As the battle goes through, it is revealed that this excavation site is where Zelda’s mother would often work and hang out with Urbosa. Urbosa says some stuff like “Her Majesty would not be happy to see all these monsters heading here!” *decapitates Moblin* and then she can say other dramatic stuff at the end like “We have fought well...for her memory” and other classic lesbian pining. Some guard at the end can say “Perhaps you should move on and help out somewhere else, Lady Urbosa. We can handle the clean up from here.” 

“Sure,” Urbosa replies, “Just another moment.” And then cue reminiscing. “She always did love these machines…”

And just other sentimental stuff like that. If you’re gonna be a coward and hold out on the Champion death angst, then you best be pumping that angst and emotion from somewhere, you know?

Also yay for worldbuilding! At least in my rewrite, the Guardian excavations and stuff were overseen by the Queen. Could be a reason Zelda hangs out with Sheikah tech so much...who knows who knows... who knows what other implications this has, it’s just a side quest after all.

Revali: Anti-Ice Training [get it??? Cause in this one, Revali’s gonna break the ice with some other characters?? I’m funny I swear]

Ok so for this one, I want to pull Revali’s character away from just “the birb that doesn’t like Link” and give him some other stuff to stand on. Obviously, there would be other side quests in a fully fleshed out game that did even more to characterize him, but for my rewrite I’m only dedicated this post and one other future post to sidequests, so I gotta really bring out what I can for the few side quest stories I have time to tell

Revali sets out alone to deal with some monsters by the Hebra trail. Although intended as an isolated moment to hone his skills, he finds himself with unexpected company. Defeat key enemies.

So you play as Revali and at first you’re alone, taking out Ice Lizalfos and the like. Revali’s text dialogue can say stuff like “Hmm...not fast enough” “My current needs to be stronger” “*mutters* Can’t compete with lightning and magma with aim like that.” Just stuff that establishes that he’s working hard to really prove himself as the best, but is still a bit insecure about his position. He thinks he’s better than Link, sure, and he certainly thinks that being a princess or a chief doesn’t automatically make you the best. However by this point, Revali has battled alongside the other Champions and seen their skill in battle, and has developed some respect for them. Afterall, Champions were chosen in some part for their skills, unlike Link or Zelda who destiny just thrust greatness upon. 

So Revali has this slight insecurity that compared to lightning, and magic healing, and magma, with chiefs and princesses and titles of heroes, he and his efforts will be overshadowed and forgotten, unfairly deemed the useless one. Thus, here he is, training in solitude, not wanting anyone to see the imperfections and mistakes until he is absolutely perfect.

Except for the fact that after you beat a Wizzrobe, the other three Champions show up. 

Revali: Wh—Huh?? What are you all doing here?

Urbosa: Well, we all have to travel with the princess to that Tower in a few hours, so I recommended we find you and hang out until then

Mipha: And a good thing too! Look how many monsters there are

Revali: I’m actually doing very well on my own right now. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or something, so why don’t you head on back and let me handle this.

Daruk: Aw, it’s not that we think you can’t do this. It’s that you’re hogging all the fun! Urbosa: And that it would be more efficient if all of us went to work

Daruk: That too

Revali: Look it’s not—you all can’t just—this is not just about—AUGH, look, I’m just trying to train myself at the moment, and I don’t need you all to mess with my drills

Urbosa: Training, hm? Well how about this...you let us continue helping you with these monsters, and after, I’ll let you in on a good Gerudo training technique

Revali: Hmph. Fine, whatever gets you out of my tail feathers faster

So Revali and the Champions clear out the monsters. Revali can have gambit attacks/dialogue with each of the other Champions. This is already incredibly long so perhaps I’ll save specifics for another time, feel free to use your imagination. Urbosa teasing Revali and they make a thunderstorm, Mipha and Revali swimming in the sky and kissing—wait that’s— 

When all the monsters are cleared, which honestly isn’t tooooo many, Revali speaks again.

Revali: So what’s this oh-so-holy technique you had in mind, then?

Urbosa: Ah yes, well really it’s quite simple. It’s called…

Urbosa: One-on-one combat

Now Revali fights Urbosa. It think it’d be really fun if your allies on a stage could swap to a boss, and I wish hwaoc had a bit more freedom with the interactions as a whole, but ah well, that’s what I’m here for I guess.

So when you/Revali defeat her, it’s a good accomplishment! Not only for you the player, as Urbosa would not be the easiest to beat, but also because match-up wise, Revali prevailing over Urbosa is a big feat as their styles are quite opposite, arguably with the strength in favour for Urbosa.

Revali might at first have the mindset that Urbosa is overconfident and thinks she’s got an easy win on Revali, but that mindset is quickly proven wrong when 1) the difficulty of the gameplay itself shows how they’re both doing their best and 2) Urbosa with her Gerudo qualities is probably shouting stuff like “give it your all!” and things.

And so, as you beat her...

Revali, kinda huffing and puffing, but just a bit:: ...you….held back

Urbosa: Come now, do you really think of me as someone who’d do that? I’m almost insulted.  

Revali: Hmm...perhaps not then....

Mipha: Wow! What a wonderful fight from both of you. 

And then insert some other dialogue from Daruk or something that shows the Champions acknowledging the training and hard work Revali must have put in to be so skilled. Perhaps it’s not so bad, when you train with others and your skill is fully appreciated by your frie—GAH. Perish the thought, they’re all just a bunch of royal fools who can’t hold a candle to the skill of a Rito Master….probably…

Revali: Well unlike you lax fools, I tend to take my job seriously. I don’t have time to longue and banter when the princess is still expecting me in an hour or two

Urbosa: Oh alright, let’s get to it then. What’s the expression? “The early bird gets the w—”

Revali: Gross. No. Don’t finish that sentence, I beg you. 

Urbosa: Oh? Well why don’t you fly off to escape my dreadful tones then?

Revali: ...Heh, don’t be absurd…

Revali: Without me, you’ll all probably get lost. So, I suppose I should stick around for that sake Great Fairies: Dress to Oppress 

The Great Fairies are holding a fashion competition and rating people’s outfits. Poorly judged outfits gives them the right to compensation combat. Defeat all your less than fashionable allies.

...

...yeah.

It seemed funny in my head, alright? cOme on, just imagine…

Revali, fully expecting to win: Well?

Great Fairies: Hm...I don’t know dear, all the colors are very clustered. Perhaps if you were taller—?

Revali: bWHAKT!? *other angry bird noises*

- - - 

Daruk: I brought my BEST out today! :D

Great Fairies: Is that a….chain?

Daruk: TWO chains, actually. :D

Great Fairies: Oh honey…

- - - 

Great Fairies: Ooo! Our little hero is about to come out! Wonder what he chose...a knight in shining armour? A handsome desert voe? Ooo!! And those Snowquill braids always made him look so cute…

Link: *comes out in the Tingle Outfit*

Great Fairies: …

Great Fairies: …………..hm…..

At the end of the side quest, after you beat everyone, the Great Fairy wins because of course they do. 

Great Fairies: Oh my! What an unexpected outcome...but it really couldn’t have gone any other way. I declare the judges the winner! I mean just look at me, I’m as dazzling as a jeweled desert flower, because I am! Ohohohoho…

This side quests unlocks the Tingle Outfit

Hestu: Forest Dance Festival

Alright this quest was already pretty perfect, BUT, I just want to use this opportunity to say that all of Hestu’s gambit attacks makes his allies and enemies do special dances. Absolutely abSURD that Hestu can only make the lesser smaller enemies dance on occasion, nonononono, my guy Hestu is making everyone dance. You can’t stop this. Nothing I say will ever top the imagination, so just take my word that this is a good thing. [Reluctant Revali doing the macarena against his will in sync with Hestu and they bash someone’s head in...ah the possibilities.] 

Maz Koshia: Links to the Past

Ok so before I get into this, a few things. This quest takes place well after the tower activations in Akkala. Age of Calamity leaves a whole lot of plots holes as to why a Monk is just...here, and what the point of the shrines are, and personally my first reaction to all this was just a five minute extended “huuhhhhhh???” 

So here is my headcanon, explanation, thing, canon to the world of the Kip Cut story. Ones all the Sheikah Towers were activated, that officially woke up all the Shrines, because we know that the Towers and Shrines are all connected to the same system. [See Great Plateau Tower activating all the Shrines and Towers, and Creating a Champion explanation on the system] But when all the monks were in their little altars and noticed how Link hadn’t dont a single one, they were like “what the fuck.” Monk Maz Koshia, who is kinda the head honcho of the monks and probably the only one powerful enough to go out in the world anyhow, sets out to see what the deal is, and after many a teleportation and telepathic communication, he figures out that Link is just running around with the Master Sword already. This kinda confuses him, because the whole point of the Shrines was to test Link and give him the spirit orbs so that he could grow strong enough to get the Master Sword, but he somehow already has it...so hmmmm something fishy is going on in this timeline. So Link technically hasn’t proven himself at all, Maz Koshia ambushes him, they do their little combat trial, Link passes, and Maz Koshia’s like “ok cool so you’re not useless.”

So now Monk Maz Koshia has cast aside his old monk duties of waiting around for a couple hundred years, in favour of just hanging out with Link and continuing to train him combat wise. Shrines are still explored by Zelda and co because they are important areas to establish teleportation pads, and whenever they’re there, Maz Koshia forces Link to get in a shrine to get a spirit orb, which is not only useful in general for health, but since Link already has the Master Sword, the other characters can get the spirit orb too. (So all those little heart upgrades that you see on the map, those are all just in the real Botw Shrine locations, rather than just scattered around randomly. Also I’m ignoring the stuff about talking to Hylia in order to exchange for stamina or heart containers because the game never talks about her, or stamina, and I’m not about to create an entirely new custom gameplay feature for this game, fuck you.)

I like to think that Maz Koshia is very selective about the Shrines he encourages people to try out. “Oh nonono, don’t bother with Qukah’s….lazy ass, only set up one little mountain that you have to blast through with lightning and that’s the entire puzzle! Disgraceful...Here, Kaam Ya’tak has set up a wonderful Trial of Power for you. I’m sure you’ll find the level design quite thrilling. They spent a lot of time on the critical thinking aspects so have fun!”

“I should warn you that this one was made by one of the millennials...yes, those youngins who were only initiated 1000 years of age. Honestly, they lack so much experience. Ms. Agana over here was experimenting with something called ‘motion controls?’ Pretty lazy if you ask me. Traditionally I would just stick to combat and block and switch stuff...but ah well, variety I suppose.”

Right, what was I talking about? Oh right! This is a sidequest. So Monk Maz Koshia doesn’t really have...a character??? Or a personality??? So I don’t really know what to do with him other than use him as an outlet for world building. Apologies to the Monk….fuckers? Stans? Feel free to leave me a comment about how I missed all the nuances of his character or something I’m all ears.

On an expedition to mark more Shrines and establish more teleports for the Kingdom, a large horde of monsters is spotted, seemingly with the intention to destroy these Ancient relics. Link and Maz Koshia use this opportunity to sharpen their combat skills. Protect the stronghold and defeat key enemies.

And then that quest would just kinda echo the stuff I said earlier about the world. (As Maz Koshia defends a Shrine, somewhere Qukah Nata is smugly shouting “Bet you wish ALL of them were protected with a giant mountain now, do ya?)

Also Link and Maz Koshia’s gambit attack involves the Master Cycle. I don’t have the specifics, but damn if I want some call backs to Botw while also having fun.

Impa: Steal Yourself [Yiga Clan Escape]

In an act of pure hatred and malice, the Yiga Clan has snuck into Kakariko Village in the dead of night…and stolen all the Swift Carrots! Impa sets out to get them back, as well as taking something else as a form of swift revenge...Escape before the time runs out.

Ok I can explain.

So you know how the Yiga and the Sheikah have kiiiiinda been murdering each other a bunch in Botw, going as far as to kill a deserter’s wife and threatening to murder his kids, and also people on both sides were sorta massacred for no reason? And alsoooo one of those people who literally lived during that time of the massacre is just kinda floating around now?  And you knooooooooww how the Yiga Clan just kinda joins Zelda’s side later on and we’re not supposed to think about the implications of that too hard because they’re the funny banana ninjas, haha? Yeah well neither Age of Calamity or I really have time to explore the moral grey areas of an alliance between two warring factions, one of which has a leader who doesn’t really seem to remember the reason why they hate Hyrule which brings into question whether the lackeys even know their clan’s history, and brings about the moral dilemma of criminalizing the ignorant, and also there’s the whole other dilemma of depicting the side that submitted to their oppression as being “in the right” and the topic of a race of people being pitted against their own by a higher power is really brushed over sO WE’RE JUST GONNA TOSS ALL THAT OUT THE WINDOW AND MAKE THEM ACT LIKE RIVALLING HIGH SCHOOLS, OKAY? OKAY! This is fine this is fine— 

So I have dubbed the High School mascot of the Sheikah, the Swift Carrot. And although there does seem to be some internal debate about whether the carrot should be replaced by the Fortified Pumpkin, the hero of Hyrule Link favours carrots so that’s that. Then of course, the mascot for the Yiga Clan is the Mighty Banana. The two sides hate each other and steal their food symbols to be petty. I’ll be covering the side quests of Kohga and the other later characters in another later post, but just know that Kohga will have his banana heist sidequest too. 

So anyhow, you play as Impa. Maybe she can say a piece of dialogue or two about how she has to uphold the image of her people as she has to lead them one day. And then, this side quest is just her retrieving the carrots and running off with the Yiga’s big banana supply before she’s caught. This is based on that “Escape the Yiga Clan” quest if you couldn’t tell.

Custom gambit defeat of Impa vs Kohga: On one hand I think it would be badass to see Impa’s Sheikah skills go up against the Yiga Clan tactics. Kohga summons a giant metal ball to throw, Impa teleports behind him “nothing personal, kid” nO fuck I’m doing it again away goes to swing a blade at his face. He blocks it with his little energy shield thing, but not before an entire conga line of Impa clones start slashing at him until he’s defeated by a giant explosion. So yeah, that’d be badass and cool. But on the other hand…

Kohga, stomping his feet and having a fit: I cARROT believe you would do something this terrible! Give us back those bananas right now! D: ….please? You can keep the gross orange sticks.

Sooga: He asked nicely. You wouldn’t deny the wishes of the most polite and charming Yiga Chief there is, would you?

Impa: No can do, Yiga scum! I’m afraid this cruel action wasn’t veggie nice of you so I must exact justice! Now it’s my time to split. *Impa clones gather and throw Kohga into a giant frog’s mouth. Impa runs off with a sack of fruit [fruit (derogatory) if you will] cackling into the horizon*

Zelda: The Path She Laid For You

The King has order Zelda to head to the Temple of Time, in order to see if anything there could help awaken her powers. Zelda sets off quietly, with minimal company, as not to attract too much attention lest the Town’s folk be hit with another attack. It seems, however, that these precautions won’t be enough...Defeat key enemies

So this is a pure Zelda sidequest, with no other characters except for eggbot because I said so. Starts out normal when SURPRISE! Bunch of monsters appear and Zelda has to whip out her iphone and fight them. 

Also!! Good time for the Hollows to show up, and you know, tell her what a failure she is and all that. Convince her that she's useless and gonna doom everyone. All that good stuff!! It’s just nice to catch up with the villains and see how they’re doing, you know? ‘Sup Hollow Urbosa, last I saw you were barely spitting words in the Lost Woods, and now you’re giving full hard-hitting insults to Zelda’s character and ability? Good for you, Queen, good for you.

So Zelda and a handful of guards are fighting off monsters, and Zelda has to beat the Hollows too. Her gambit dialogue when she defeats Hollows can be stuff like “You’re not the real ___” or something idk, I don’t have a lot of experience with the evil clone trope, I’ve never played Ocarina of Time. But one specific I DO want to highlight is that Zelda uses the nearby Sheikah Tech to defeat the enemies. I find it a bit weird how Zelda just knows how to use those random water canons in the Faron region in later chapters, so we’re just gonna at least set up a pattern so that it makes a bit more sense later. Plus! This is in front of the Great Plateau, AKA Gate Post Town/Garrisons AKA oh lOOK it’s that area where Link and Impa and eggbot first meet in that Impa introduction scene of my rewrite so we have already established that Sheikah Technology is being stored here and ready to use! Continuity in world building! Nice.

So Zelda uses her knowledge of Sheikah Tech to defeat the Hollows, when...dun dun dun! Astor appears. But you don’t fight him...

Astor: Have you listened to one word spoken to you today? Why are you still resisting? Let me help you.

Zelda: And what exactly is your plan? You wish to kill me, then?

Astor: Not quite. I mean, if you do die, there are ways I can manage, so if some stray Yiga blade happens to strike you I’m not completely doomed.

Astor: But no, the most optimal outcome for everyone is the one where you live yet. You must see the truth as I do, and let me fix this. I can undo this terrible knot destiny has thread for you. [and insert other fate sisters and sewing metaphors here]

Zelda: But how? What’s your game here, if you’re truly claiming to be in everyone’s best interest then why all this secrecy?

Astor: Ah...ever the one to look for the facts and logic, hmm? Can’t blame you, you get it straight from your mother.

Zelda: …!

Astor: But...I’m afraid even if I did tell you now, you’re in no state to truly grasp it. No...the only way this works is for you to truly understand the position you're in, and the stakes that hang in the path before you. 

Astor: And if I have to kill every King, Champion, or knight to get you to understand…

Astor: Then so be it. 

[dun dun dun]

Zelda: No! I won’t let you hurt anyone, I swear it!

Eggbot [just pretend eggbot can have dialogue boxes too]: *chirps* 

Astor, suddenly noticing eggbot: ...You…you’re one thing I still don’t—

Eggbot chirps again beside Zelda, both seeming to be angry at Astor’s words. Eggbot releases a glowing flash of light. Kinda like a...flash bang? [is that the right word idk]

Astor: Ah—! *and he teleports away to escape* Astor: Until next time then...Princess

And that’s pretty much the sidequest. Zelda can question what exactly eggbot did, but he’s not exactly the most verbal in responses. Finally it ends with Zelda going home, “He was still right though...I’m still sitting in failure, with not a hint of my powers awakening. All I have is some Sheikah tech, some exhausted shoulders….and well, you, I suppose, little one.”

“Come, it’d be a waste to continue forth in this condition. Let’s go back to the castle.”

Eggbot: *happy whistles and chirps*

= = = = = 

Tune in next time folks, as we dive back into the main event! Needless to say, Chapter 4 is where the shit starts to go down...

[meltwonu]

s n a k e     |     e y e s     [chapter 6]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; oral(female receiving), jihoon’s breeding kink returns, and angst hrhhkjfhk this is a bit of a filler chapter for the next chapter so sorry its a bit shorter! 🥴🥺💕 i love u

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - x - x - x - x

When you wake up the next morning, there’s an obvious soreness that you feel between your legs.

But what you also feel is Jihoon under the sheets, cheek nuzzling against your thigh as his fingertips move towards the edge of your panties.

“Ji--Jihoon…?” Your voice is laced with sleepiness as you sit up on your elbows, watching his form shifting around underneath the bed sheets. “Wh--what are you doing?”

“Mm...nothin’...” His fingers tease around the hem of your panties as a spike of arousal shoots through your body. “Jihoon this… doesn’t seem like nothing.” There’s a soft chuckle before he sits up, taking the sheets with him as he becomes visible to your eyes. His hair is sticking out in every direction as he smiles at you.

“I just wanted to… treat you a ‘lil bit, is all.” There’s a blush on your cheeks when he leans back down, spreading your legs ever so slightly before he repositions himself back to where he was. “I think I was too rough on you last night.”

“Um.. I mean…”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” No, quite the opposite actually. He looks up at you before his eyes travel all over your body to see the marks he left; lips pouting as his brows furrow in concern. “I really didn’t mean to, it’s just, it’s probably just an instinct thing? Snakes don’t really have mates or anything but since you’re technically my owner, I probably---”

“Jihoon, stop! Don’t… use that term. I don’t like it. I don’t want you to think of me like that, okay? We’re equals in this house so… you don’t need to refer to me as your owner.” He nods shyly, a complete 180 of himself from the night previous.

“I dunno, I’m sorry, I’m just… I’ve never been possessive like that, I think, but I didn’t like it when you smelled like Chan and I think I just…” Jihoon trails off, too shy to meet your glance this time. “You’re not mad about it are you?”

“Jihoon, no.. Although, I will ask, are you gonna be like that every time another hybrid is around?”

There’s a visible clench in his jaw as he leans closer to your clothed mound, tongue peeking out as he presses his tongue against you through the material of your panties. A shiver runs up your spine when he does, body still sensitive from last night. “I don’t know. Are you trying to find out?” His voice is muffled against you; immediately going back to licking at you over your panties until it sticks to you like a second skin.

You let him do what he wants, laying back down as you spread your legs for him on your own. You relax into his touch, soft sleepy moans leaving your lips as you watch him through heavy lids. His tongue presses into you clit, the material of your panties adding extra friction as you exhale shakily. “Jihoon…”

He stops for a moment, eyes glancing up at you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah just… I’m still really sensitive…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no…” Jihoon’s fingers caress your thighs, lips flitting over your skin as he kisses a love bite he’d left behind. “I’ll do all the work. Just want you to cum for me.”

Jihoon makes you feel warm and fuzzy, hands soft against your skin as he continues to lick you through the soaked material. He’s in no rush, building up your arousal as slowly as he can as you tangle your own hands into the sheets under you. And you can’t tell if your body is just that sensitive but you already feel so breathless; hips raising off the sheets slightly to grind against his tongue.

“Jihoon… Jihoon…” He hums against you, the vibrations making you shiver. You can feel yourself already close to cumming and all he’d done was lick you through your panties. “I… ah..” A sob rolls off your tongue in the next minute, toes curling against the sheets as you cum. You can feel your entire body shaking; Jihoon’s hands keeping you grounded as he works you through your high.

When he feels your body finally start to relax, he sits up, flashing you a smile before he shuffles to the spot next to you.

“Let’s sleep a little longer and then we can have breakfast?”

Breakfast actually means lunch at 1PM and he follows up the meal with another session on the sofa.

“Ngh, J--Jihoon…” You ride him reverse cowgirl on the sofa, his hands caressing your waist this time as you lift yourself up and down on his lap. “How d-do you have so much stamina!?” Your legs are already tired but he helps you out, thrusting up into you as you moan and clench around his cock.

“I, hah, haven’t been with anyone for a while… Guess we’re really c-compatible… Your body was made for me...”

He’d mentioned to you before that it’d been a while and you had to admit, you were kind of curious about his previous partners. He had never even asked you about yours, now that you thought about it.

“Fuck! Ah, t-there, Jihoon!” His cock hits your g-spot over and over, whines spilling from your mouth as you try to brace yourself on his thighs. You opt to grind down onto him instead when you get tired, swiveling your hips against him. “Ngh, fu--fuck, I’m so close… Can I cum inside of you again? Fuck, p-please, I need to!”

You nod feverishly, tentatively bringing a hand to your clit as you begin to draw circles around the nub. He starts to thrust up into you again, your body bouncing on top of him as his thrusts become erratic.  

“Sh--shit, your pussy is sucking me in deeper, fuck! Gonna fill you up with my cum and breed you so fuckin’ good, you’ll be begging me for more...”

“Y-yes, pl--please cum inside of me!”

Jihoon sits up a bit more, his chest meeting your back as he holds you down onto his cock in an iron grip; kissing your shoulder as he unloads his cum inside of your pussy. You rub quicker circles around your clit, his cum filling you up spurring your own orgasm as you cum with him. Tiny whines of his name spill from your lips as he trails kisses all along your shoulders.

You slump against him; cum already trickling down onto the sofa underneath the two of you even though he was still snug between your walls. “Mmh… Jihoon we need to c-clean this up…” He can’t help but laugh tiredly, wrapping an arm around your waist as he holds your warm body against his own.

“How are we gonna do that? The second we get up, there’s gonna be cum everywhere.”

“Maybe if you didn’t cum so much!”

“I told you that’s not my fault!” He whines cutely, pouting behind you as you try to get up without making a mess. He lets you, watching as you slowly stand. You’re careful getting up from his lap, already aware that there’s going to be stains on the sofa.

Jihoon watches the cum drip down your thighs, biting the inside of his cheek. It definitely must be a hybrid thing, he thinks. There’s an inherent desire to push it all back into your pussy but he refrains; fingers twitching against the sofa as he watches you shuffle towards the restroom to get cleaned up. He figures he should get dressed and clean up a bit while you assess yourself, tugging his oversized sweater back on as he searches for his joggers that he’d shucked off.

And when you re-enter the living room, you’re dressed in a different set of clothing, watching as Jihoon tries to get the cum out of the sofa material.

“Honestly, I don’t know if that’ll ever come out.” There’s an exasperated sigh on your end as you pick up your discarded clothes, setting them into a pile on the coffee table to deal with later. “I mean, as long as it’s not obvious to the eye, I guess it’s okay?” Jihoon nods at your words, tossing the rag he was using into the pile of clothes on the table.

“Can we cuddle now?”

You nod, letting him lay down before you join him, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he spoons you from behind. Some music program plays on the TV in front of you but your mind is on the same question that ran through your head earlier.

“Hey Jihoon?”

“Mm?”

“I was just curious… about… about your partners before you ended up at ‘Cheol’s place? Or even after?” His body goes rigid for a second before he relaxes against you. He knew eventually you’d ask for details, especially since the two of you had gotten intimate already.

“Um, well, if you’re wondering about relationships, I’ve never really had one. I’m sure hyung’s told you that I… was, um, living in the streets before he helped me.” Your jaw clenches just hearing him say it again but you let him continue. “But that being said, uh, I mean… I’ve technically been with other women.. It’s just, y’kno, been physical. I’m pretty sure hybrids have it in their blood to want to mate, y’know?” You nod slowly, a blush forming on your cheeks at the word ‘mate’.

“But I mean, after I ended up at hyung’s place and got homed and re-homed a bunch of times, I never… was with anyone. I didn’t feel comfortable. Most of them just thought of me as a prize piece and nothing more. I was just a show animal to them. Snake hybrids are technically considered really rare, but I dunno, if you look at me, I don’t seem that special. Maybe they thought I’d wake up one day and be different.”

There’s a particular sadness in Jihoon’s voice that has you turning in his hold, your concerned eyes meeting his in an instant. “Jihoon…”

“It really sucked. I mean, some of my owners and some of their friends tried to come onto me but that was usually when I’d go running back to my designated room. And then I’d ball up in there all day until they’d get mad and tell me to leave. But Seungcheol-hyung always welcomed me back, so I guess in the end it was okay.”

You nuzzle your face into his clothed chest, urging your tears down as you listen to him speak. “This is the longest I’ve been somewhere that wasn’t at the adoption home and to be honest, it’s kind of weird for me. But a good weird? I dunno, maybe I’m just confused.” There’s a chuckle at the end of his words, his arm that’s wrapped around your waist tugging you in closer. “It’s a good confused though, I guess.”

“Mm… Thank you for sharing with me Jihoon. It means a lot… And to me, you’re really special, y’know?” You pull away from him a bit, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. There’s a serene smile on his lips when you lean closer, pecking him on the mouth before you lay your head back down.

“How about you? Were you in a relationship before you met me at hyung’s?” This time your throat feels a little dry. You hadn’t spoken about Soonyoung since your talk with Minghao, and it had been even longer before then that you’d mentioned your ex.

“Technically yes and no. I was dating someone for a--a while before I met you. I think by the time I’d met you, I was already out of the relationship for, like, 2 months?”

“Oh… what happened?” You sigh, playing with the material of Jihoon’s sweater. “It’s a long story but… to make it short, he was working in the entertainment business while I was working with ‘Hao at the magazine company. And in theory, you’d think we would be a great couple, right? Because we were both ‘in the business’.” You draw air quotations with a hand to emphasize your point. “But it was just… It didn’t really work out for us, I guess. I was working from home then too and he was always out and about. He stayed here a lot then too, I don’t know if you’ve ever picked up on it. I mean it wasn’t much since he was busy but...yeah.”

Jihoon tells you he picked up on it a few times but it had been too faint for him to bring it up previously. “Yeah, makes sense. He… I mean, we used to share the bed so…” You clear your throat, not wanting to finish that sentence. “But anyway, when we broke up, we both did it amicably. We just knew it wasn’t the right time to be in a relationship with how different our lives were.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“No… honestly, I haven’t even spoken about him in a long while. And we both agreed that it would be best to not talk to each other for some time… Just to give each other enough time to heal and move on before we could reconnect later or something.”

“Do you want him back in your life?” You peer up at Jihoon, seeing the slight fear pooling behind his eyes.

“I… I think I can do without.”

The two of you lay in each other’s arms for a while; neither of you speaking any further and just enjoying each other’s company.

 But after a while, Jihoon decides he wants to go work on some music in his work room, again telling you to call him once you get started on dinner. You let him go, deciding to get some work and chores done around the place while the sun was still out.And in that time, you end up finishing another article draft and three loads of laundry.

You stretch, looking around the now cleaned room. The sky is dark by now and to your surprise, rain patters against the window as a cold shiver runs through your body. You look down the hallway, wondering what Jihoon was up to.

Jihoon more often than not worked on music while you did your own work in the living room. But there were days when he definitely seemed to need his alone time, holing up in his workroom for more than a couple hours as he came up with new melodies and lyrics. You generally didn’t mind it either, as the space gave you time to focus on your work instead of watching the cute snake-hybrid pout and peek his tongue out when he came up with new ideas for his music.

You start down the hallway, knocking on the door once you reach it. There’s no reply, so you let yourself in, a cold breeze hitting you almost immediately when you step in.

There’s a moment of panic when you notice that none of Jihoon’s heaters or humidifiers are on and you spot Jihoon laying on the bed still inside of the room. You waste no time in sprinting towards him, checking if he’s okay.

His chest rises and falls so you know he’s still breathing, but his hands are cold to the touch, even more-so than they should be. You check his forehead, noticing his entire body seems to be much colder than usual.

“Jihoon!? Jihoon!!” You slightly urge him awake, his eyes unfocused as he tries to look at you. His teeth are slightly chattering, a whine escaping his lips as he leans into your warmth.

“P-please c--call Seungcheol--h--hyung…”

[lakemojave]

Land of Falling Sun 8

There was no hiding Dog. Chipper had to keep circling up above as before, as it was the best way for them to blend in with the surrounding area with a proper vantage point on the situation. The wanderer scurried to a nearby building--the post office, he later discovered--and crouched below a shattered window. The approaching intruder would probably check the sheriff’s office first, since it was the site of the most carnage. Dog stood outside a different building down the street.

Then they waited. All three of them waited.

What the hell was that back there? How in the hell had he done that? He still wasn’t confident that he was actually, truly dead, and was now living through some bizarre dream-like transition to the afterlife. He’d sooner believe the bullet was a dud or something, but that didn’t explain the sensations he felt at that moment. The knife wasn’t inherently magical, he knew that. His magic was--well he didn’t really understand it, did he? Starting fires, summoning horses, calling dust devils or plagues of insects, those all made sense to him somehow. He always considered himself a summoner, someone who created things--no, that wasn’t right. He didn’t create Dog, Dog clearly came from somewhere else he didn’t know. Maybe the fire did too.

Silence outside. All three of them waited.

What happened outside wasn’t like that. It wasn’t calling anything forth to his aide, it was splitting a bullet in half. What kind of magic is that? How do you even begin to figure that out? Talk about what splitting a bullet in half symbolizes? What it represents metaphysically? Isn’t that insane? Maybe it is, but the wanderer realized that’s probably what he was gonna have to do.

He listened for footsteps, but the breeze outside was too loud. All three of them waited.

Splitting a bullet in half. Separating a missile into two distinct parts. Destroying it--no, that’s not right. Something split is not the same as something destroyed. The bullet still existed, only in two halves. So it was converted into something else, like matter changing states. But the bullet was still a bullet until it hit the deck behind him, when the halves were reduced to shrapnel. Their properties were no different than they were before making contact with the knife. So what was so damn magical about all of this?

He heard footsteps outside.

-----

Dog stood motionless down the road. Chipper craned their head down to listen to what took place below. The wanderer peeked up from his window. The first thing they heard was a voice:

“Hooooooooowee! We done missed the party huh!” It was high, cheery, and jovial, trailing in a high country drawl. It was a skeleton wearing a tattered shirt and a straw hat. He carried a hobo stick and pouch over his shoulder, and wore a gun belt with two pistols, both serviceable looking enough. The wanderer was a little insulted looking at him--like he was looking at a parody of himself. Chipper was a little relieved, as his demeanor seemed pleasant and friendly rather than hostile. Dog wanted to gnaw on him.

He jangled around the fallen members of the centaur gang, examining their weapons and checking for valuables. He started talking to himself.

“What I say, Mr. Mercy? What oh what did I say? You got to stop gettin’ yourself into this. You gotta find a nice, comfortable hole, and let this all go. But NOOOO you just HAD to go adventurin’ didn’t ya? Ya had to go a-wanderin’ under the clear blue sky and see whatcha see. And whaddya have to show for it? A buncha dead fellas at the crossroads of nothin’ to see and nowhere at all! Oof! This one got cooked crispy huh! Wonder if that woulda happened to that last fella? Nah, those guys are pros. Ain’t gonna scorch themselves with their own lightning. Just gonna get blowed down in the street! Hee hee...remember that guy what tried to teach ya manipulations and such? Then got his head chewed off by a roamin’ cactus? What good that done him huh? Guess I got one up on all these fellas to begin with. Hold up...that ain’t a bullet hole right? Nah...but how them lil’ boys growin’ out then?”

“Shut. Up.”

While he was talking, the wanderer managed to sneak out from his cover with relative ease. As the skeleton--whose name he presumed to be Mr. Mercy--approached the deck where the wanderer lay moments ago, he snuck up behind the skeleton and drew his knife to the back of his neck. There was a soft clink as he drew it against the bone. The wanderer turned back and whistled his companions closer.

“They with you?” the wanderer asked, regarding the five dead. He figured he knew the answer already, but it didn’t hurt to keep him on his toes.

“N-now sir, we can jus’-”

“Answer. The question.”

“No! Nope! Never seen ‘em!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Lookin’ around! These ghost towns got good scrap usually!”

Chipper descended upon the sheriff’s office and perched on a handrail. The rattled Mr. Mercy was clearly even more stunned by the oncoming bird person.

“Hey kid,” the wanderer said to Chipper, “What do you think of this guy?”

They craned their body forward, and Mr. Mercy’s head turned ninety degrees to meet them. Chipper looked young, soft, and simultaneously youthfully naïve yet knowing and intuitive. Mr. Mercy, despite his skullish featurelessness, seemed harmless. Capable of handling himself of course, but ultimately harmless.

“Seems alright. Seems kinda friendly actually,” they said with the utmost seriousness and posture.

“If I let you go,” the wanderer said, “You won’t do anything stupid?”

Mr. Mercy chuckled nervously. “Now sir, yer askin’ a lotta me.”

Chipper stifled a giggle. The wanderer sighed defeatedly. “Will you promise not to reach for your guns?”

“Yes! I don’t wanna hurt y’all,” the skeleton spouted.

The wanderer relaxed his grip on the knife, and withdrew it from Mr. Mercy’s neck. “Be warned,” he said, “This thing cut a bullet in half about an hour ago.”

“Nice bluff sir,” Dog said, approaching the deck. “Keep him around. Maybe he can explain your own magic to you.”

The wanderer shot his horse a death glare, then turned back to Mr. Mercy. “So. Who are you anyway?”

The skeleton shrugged. “Just a guy, I s’pose. Makin’ the best of bein’ stuck here, same as anybody. Cig?” he pulled a stained pack of cigarettes from his pocket and held it out.

“Stuck here?”

Mr. Mercy was taken aback by this, and withdrew his hand slightly. “Yer uhh...not from here?”

The wanderer and Chipper exchanged a look. “Why?” Chipper asked, “Where is here?”

“Hooo boy,” Mr. Mercy said, “That’s a big ‘un.” He extended the cigarettes to the two of them. The wanderer took one, and lit it in his fingers. Chipper declined. “Y’all do yer business here, then uhhh...I’ll tell ya whatcha got in store.” He started off the deck, and found the wanderer’s coat. “This anybody’s? Looks my size.”

The wanderer and Chipper looked at Mr. Mercy with stupid awe. Neither knew what to make of this man, other than that he seemed friendly and like he meant well. He was also extremely annoying, and judging by how Dog looked at him, either Dog would tear him to bits and gnaw at his marrow, or Mr. Mercy would put two quick rounds in its head and kill it.

The wanderer took a drag at his cigarette, and pointed to the jacket. “Yours now. Fits you better anyway.”

[astralglam]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. What does your muse smell like?

without soap or perfume, 683 smells bizarrely sterile, chemical-ish, like a dentist’s office, bleach or cleaning supplies.  like hand sanitizer that kills 99.9% of germs.  they have that faint smell of powdery clean cosmetics, only because they wear so much foundation, face powder and setting spray.  humans like things that smell less artificial, so 683 takes to using cheap perfume (think a teenager who just learned to douse themselves with axe or bath and bodyworks spray), which is artificial in a slightly more palatable way.  their clothes (which are almost all second hand) have that mothball-musty smell of a thrifted dress that hasn’t been washed yet, like an old book.    

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

cold, frigid and icy, almost like a mannequin’s if you left the mannequin in the freezer. their skin is tight over their tendons and fingers, with almost waxy, plasticy skin stretched over their joints and knuckles, which makes them seem very fragile.  sometimes their palms are uncannily clammy.  their skin on their palms isn’t rough or calloused but they’re starting to get scars on their fingertips from their voyages into the realm of string instruments.  they used to have very neat, clean and unpainted nails, but nowadays, they have divots and cracks because 683 is clumsy with the strings.  

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

683 is often at the mercy of when their friends will decide to cook for them/buy them food.  they don’t have any cooking skills and can barely wash and cut an apple (this isn’t because they’re stupid, on atomina they were used to communal dining with a designated set of people who cooked for everyone in their unit).  683 is naturally accustomed to eating plant matter and (unlike us humans) has a way better digestive system for breaking down cellulose and gets a lot more out of their vegetarian diet than you might expect (two stomachs aint for nothin).  left to their own devices they just eat Whatever (orange? handfuls of spinach, unwashed, pesticides dont hurt them.  microwave a tomato and watch it explode.  brave cutting open an avocado and just eating it with a spoon).  dinner is when priscilla either buys him take out or sid cooks something for him (and sid is an amazing cook!!!).  sid isn’t vegetarian, but his family is, so he knows how to make all kinds of dishes perfect for 683 -- substitute the dairy for nondiary alternatives and 683′s getting matter paneer (with tofu instead), malai kofta (with coconut milk), and aloo gobi (no butter), all sorts of things !!! 

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

sort of.  683′s voice, by itself, is nasally and weird and a little grating, but their devotion to music lets them make the most out of their “strange” voice and almost use it to their benefit to sound unique, different, super far out !11!11111  their lyrics, instrumentals and emotion combined is what makes them a talented musician rather than just a good quality voice.  so while they might not have a very pretty voice, they’re still a skilled singer due to their delivery.  

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

im assuming this is about bad (physical) habits rather than personality deficiencies (of which 683 has many).  683 stares, like, really just stares at people with reckless abandon, they havent figured out it’s rude.  they arent good at even pretending to listen so if they’re disinterested in what you have to say, they’ll look elsewhere, pick at their nails, mumble or interrupt you.  always finds a way to make the conversation about themself.  very disorganized and messy, has a hard time taking care of objects even if they value them (ex. dropping his guitar, misplacing jewelry, yanking a belt off and breaking it).  definitely self pities and has no problem trying to guilt you for everything and anything.  is a pretty frequent smoker, but is polite enough not to smoke if you ask him not to.  

683 is always a little nervous so their nervous ticks are just their baseline state of being (wringing hands, stammering, talking really fast, making insane gestures all around you but being too afraid to touch you, etc)

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

683 looks very put together at all times -- not necessarily polished or professional, but very intentional, in that you can tell they definitely made a conscious choice to dress the way they do.  he wore the same dumb uniform every day for the first 20 years of his life, so he’s very excited to try new clothing options.  

more femme-ish clothing preferences go to boxy, sleeveless a-line dresses, miniskirts, bright floral patterns, big plastic earrings, headbands, scarves, etc.  they like clunky platforms and prefer to wear boots.  very 60s mod and colorblocked.  she loves bright eyeshadow but tends to go for more neutral lipstick.  can never figure out what to do with her hair so she usually leaves it down or does a half-up half-down bun kinda deal.  

more masc clothing preferences are bell bottoms, button ups with butterfly collars, paisley print, turtlenecks and fringe jackets, etc. earthy tones and weird nasty olive green.  very late 60s / early 70s. prog rock flavor or glam rock flavor.  never got into the disco style only because he cant pull it off because he’s so scrawny and twitchy and has no chest hair to impress the ladies.    

one thing about 683 is that he hates tight long sleeves and goes insane if he has to wear them.  his uniform was sleeveless, so even short sleeves feel really weird and horrible on his arms.  prefers sleeveless, can do with short sleeves, 3/4ths sleeve or loose long sleeve, really tries to avoid tight/constricting long sleeves.  

i have a pinterest board of potential fits for him although i havent updated it because i barely know how to use pinterest.

7. Is your muse affectionate?  How much?  How so?

to most people, not really, he’s kind of a weird cagey asshole.  oscillates between fascinated with physical touch (suddenly wanting to hug his friends or snuggle with them or grabbing strangers when he’s trying to talk to them) to despising contact (cringes if you touch his hand when you pass him a cup).  he didnt grown up with a culture very big on it, so he isn’t sure if he likes it or not yet.  

to people he does care about, he tends to take his friends for granted but overperform affection for those he has romantic interest in.  not that he doesnt also dearly love and adore his friends, he’s just not the best at expressing his care for them other than random bursts of kindness and dissolving back into his weird normal self.  his understanding of romance has come from a very commercial, media-influenced place (he learns about it through television, novels and commercials, it’s not really inherent to his species) so he thinks romance is about buying flowers, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes for three hours, etc. if he has romantic interest in you, he will constantly over and over again tell you how much he likes you and your company and you are soooo funny hahahhahhfhh, and will be unusually touchy (clings to your arm, sits RIGHT next to you, drops his head on your shoulder, etc).  

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

683 didnt know what blankets were until he came to earth (or deep space nine) !!! his old room was perfectly temperature controlled and he already has a lower natural body temperature, so there was no need for blankets at all.  human beds with big pillows and blankets are THE COOLEST, so he either curls up underneath a blanket with only the top of his head poking out or he sprawls out like a starfish to take advantage of as many pillows as possible.  his special move is to roll up in the blanket like some kind of little alien lumpia.  

he’s a fitful sleeper so if you sleep in the same bed as him, he’ll punch you or kick you on accident.  he does appreciate company, though, and will also plaster himself up against you and leech your body heat with his weird cold body.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

depends.  they have a very average speaking voice and aren’t necessarily very loud (plus platforms dull footsteps), but if they were excited, they might raise their voice or yell or exclaim something.  and then they’re very shrill, so yes, you would hear her.  

Tagged by:  @sampati im sorry i took like a week it was really fun i love to type letters and words on the computer Tagging: @dynaura or @pataparty (for whoever you want) / @phantombs / @ofgentleresolve (for lamon? or anyone you want, really!!) / @bystcrdust / @kyrieleisen / @baelends / @bup1957

[ampleappleamble]

Honestly, it wasn’t as if Axa didn’t know how farfetched her whole story sounded, especially after listening to herself recount it aloud to a stranger. She was also self-aware enough to recognize that she and her companions probably came off as... eccentric, at best. So in the end, she couldn’t really blame the dwarf for being wary of her and her party– anyone would be– even though they had told her nothing but the truth.

It would certainly be a lot easier to convince the huntress of her sincerity, though, if the truth could stop being so gods damned bizarre as of late.

Axa couldn't help but feel like the more of her story she told, the more a liar she made herself look, and the older woman's guarded body language and skeptical expression weren't very encouraging in that regard. She was a mother, she'd told Axa at the camp that evening– five times over, although only three of her children lived yet– and Axa could tell she was a seasoned veteran of the child-rearing arts. She'd borne that accusatory, incredulous glare from her own mother ten thousand times, and it hadn't made any difference to her whether Axa was telling the truth or not either.

–Serpent's Wings, I don't want to hear it anymore! He's not some poor stray tom you rescued from the gutter! He's not even a proper priest, Axa; he's a strange, sick con man who was lucky enough to find a softhearted, foolish girl to–

She winced at the memory. Yes, thanks, Mama. Helpful as always.

Then there were all the things she wasn't telling anyone about yet, let alone this woman she'd just met. She wasn't concealing anything especially damning, just perfectly mundane, boring, everyday intensely painful and private experiences and memories, including some that might explain a few things about her current circumstances. But as usual, every time she was presented with an opportunity to clear the air, Axa just... clammed up instead. The Ordhjóma thing, for instance, had come up again in an otherwise pleasant dinnertime chat about the southern lights over Nasitaaq when Axa had accidentally brought up the time she had seen them in the White that Wends. She knew there was nothing inherently shady about it, but even just politely declining to elaborate on her time in the Land or to speak any Ordhjóma for her curious audience made her feel nervous and guilty, as though she were withholding evidence instead of simply keeping a private matter private. Mercifully, everyone seemed to let it go easily enough, but Axa strongly suspected Sagani still held it against her, doubtless as "proof" of her untrustworthy nature.

And if it wasn't what she said or didn't say making her appear suspect, it was the series of ludicrous coincidences that now passed for her everyday life. According to the Lady of Caed Nua's trusted local guide (the smoke-addled fool who'd nearly gotten his fingers bitten off by Sagani's fox), the cliffs from her vision of Persoq just so happened to be a few hours west of Defiance Bay. How convenient, then, that she and her crew were headed that way anyway, and how generous of them to offer Sagani a place in their traveling party. It was all the truth, of course, and intended in the spirit of benevolence– but all the same, it sounded like such an obvious contrivance that Axa had almost not wanted to say anything at all, to save them both the embarrassment.

But when the dwarf had accepted, had shrugged and sighed and told her to "lead the way," Axa had had to actively stop herself from shooting back, "Are you sure?" Even though it was perfectly understandable, Sagani's obvious reticence to trust her (especially while she was actively electing to travel with her anyway) still stung, and it frustrated Axa that she couldn't quite figure out how to not let it make things awkward during their long hike to the city. Each of the menfolk had approached her on his own at one time or another and inquired discreetly after her health and mood, each noting how unusually untalkative she was, and each time she found herself too stubborn to admit why. They were damn near crossing the bridge into the city proper by the time the orlan was finally tired of torturing herself about it, and she impulsively squeezed her left eye shut–

–Sometimes, with some kith, there just ain't nothin' for it but to just keep on livin' your truth, Lil' Blossom. Just let 'em be, and you just go on bein' true t' yourself. They’ll come 'round, with time... or they won't, 'n you cut 'em loose. But either way you're better off than y'were before, worryin' yourself sick about what some other blowhards think–

Wael had answered the spontaneous prayer with a promptness that had startled her almost as much as the answer itself. She hadn't thought about her father in some time, but the Lord of Mysteries had reached down into her mind and plucked out exactly the right memory for the situation. It was something he'd told her back when she was a little girl tormented or ignored by peers far crueler than the kith she was keeping company with now, and she had come to him for advice not on revenge, but on how to get them to like her. At the time, Axa had balked at essentially being told that sometimes there was nothing one could do about another's unfair opinions of them. But in time, she came to see the wisdom in his words, and she found that the less she tried to please others and the more she focused on cultivating her own identity and interests, the happier she was, in the end.

Good advice, Papa. ...Thank you, Eyeless One.

"Hey. ...You feelin' alright?" This time, it was Sagani herself who drew up next to the orlan, concern plain on her motherly face. Itumaak's nose brushed Axa's fingertips on her other side, the fox giving her a cursory sniff before returning to his mistress. "You've been pretty quiet these last few hours. Nervous, now that we've made it to the big city?" She nodded her head in the direction of the city gates, no more than a stone's throw away now.

Axa wondered, looking at Sagani's kind smile and knitted brow, how she ever could have thought the older woman had borne her any ill will. "Not really, no. I grew up in the second-largest city in the Plains, so tall buildings and busy streets don't faze me much. I've just been... lost in my head, I guess." She smiled back briefly before tilting her head just so, to obscure her face with her burgundy curls. Just in case.

"You're not still hung up on that priest we met on the road, are you?" Kana closed the distance between himself and the two women in a few broad steps, sensing that the tension in the group was dissipating now, positively famished for a good chat. "In truth, I still am, a bit. I certainly hope we don't meet any more of his kind beyond these gates!"

"Still feel like we kinda overdid it there," Edér piped up, picking at the bandaging on his fox-bitten fingers. "Sure, he was a weird, rude prick, but did we really have to beat 'im up?"

"He called Axa a vicious, unspeakable slur, Edér," Aloth huffed, clutching his grimoire close to his chest as the group passed over the long bridge into town. "Honestly, he's rather lucky he got away with his life."

Axa's first impulse was to glare at them in an attempt to silence their loose tongues, but instead she forced herself to look at Sagani's eyes, challenging her. Challenging herself. And in response, Sagani cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, clapped Axa gently on the back between her shoulders. "Now that sounds like a good story. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

...Very good advice, indeed, Axa thought, smiling back at the dwarf, as the party approached the gates of Defiance Bay.

[carbo-ships]

Age Talk

CW: age gap

I wrote this a looooong time ago but it doesn't really have a proper place in the narrative and it's just Carly and Soldagand addressing the elephant in the room so imma just post the whole thing under a read more, chuck it in the bonus section, and move along lmao.

[Soldagand x Carly Masterlist]

“Sol?” Carly and Soldagand were sitting in his den. Sol was sprawled on the couch while Carly was curled up in a chair near the fire.

“Mmm?”

“Hold old are you, again?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Old.”

“I know, but...” It was clear she wanted a real answer.

“This is my 417th winter,” he admitted.

“Right, right,” she nodded. “What’s, um, what’s that in human years?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way,” he said, slightly amused. It was a question he’d heard many times before. “But why do you ask?” He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

She shrugged, averting her gaze.

He sighed. “Does it make you a lil uncomfortable that I’m so much older than you?”

“No, I— Yes? Maybe? I don’t know,” she stuttered anxiously.

He offered her a sympathetic smile. “Well, let’s talk about it, shall we? D’you wanna sit on my lap?”

She nodded and stood from her seat to curl up with him. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm as she made herself comfortable on his lap.

“Alright, so—I’m 395 years older than you,” he stated bluntly. “This doesn’t inherently mean much because I’m not human, but I know me not bein’ human complicates things even more.”

She nodded in agreement.

“So... Why don’t you tell me what’s goin’ through your head.”

She took a deep breath. “I mean, I... I always feel like you know so much more than I do. You try to explain fae stuff to me, and I never get it. Sometimes I feel like I just can’t keep up with you.”

“How much of that’s my age, and how much of that’s me bein’ a dryad?” he asked.

”I... I don’t really know.”

“M’kay, well....” he mumbled, tossing thoughts around in his mind. He knew this conversation might happen someday, but he hadn’t prepared for it quite as well as he felt he should have.

“I’m sorry...”

“No, don’t apologize. I don’t expect you to have all the answers. This is a conversation, dewdrop, not an interrogation.”

He shifted her on his lap to pull her closer and did his best to hide his nerves.

“Well, I know that when it comes to humans, y’all get a lil nervous when you see a young woman with an older fella because he’s got a lot more life experience. Maybe a lil more mature, he’s got more resources. Lil lady might rely on him a lot. You know I’d never treat you rotten, but I’ll admit that, well, that does sound a whole lot like you and me. I mean, I’ve been around a lot longer than ya, I’ve got a whole other world I’m part of, got ya eatin’ at my table, sleepin’ in my bed...” He cleared his throat nervously. “So I guess I understand why you asked. And I realize I probably should’ve brought this up with ya sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“It’s alright,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

“Do you feel like I baby you too much? I don’t wanna be too patronizing, but I wanna take care of you, doll.”

He saw her blush. “I mean, sometimes, but I don’t mind too much.”

Soldagand grinned. “Alright, well, you just let me know if I’m ever layin’ it on a lil too heavy. I... I love you. So much, honey. I know I’m not the best at sayin’ it outright quite as often as I oughta, but I do.”

She gave him a bashful smile and he kissed her forehead.

“And while I’m not thrilled with the notion of Ani knowin’ intimate details about what goes on in this tree, I want you to rat me out if I ever stop treatin’ you right, okay? I mean, of course I’d rather you just talk to me about whatever it is, but, y’know. I— I don’t mean to scare ya or nothin’, it’s just that... If you’re not happy, I don’t want you keepin’ that to yourself just for my sake.”

She nodded. “I understand. But, um... What about you?”

Sol cocked his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m 395 years younger than you. How do you feel about that?” she stuttered awkwardly.

He chuckled. “Well, I’ll admit, I was a lil hesitant at first—for your sake. Kept runnin’ to Ani for advice, but he kept tellin’ me how big of a crush you had on me and that I oughta just cut the crap and shoot my shot. It’s not somethin’ I think about too much anymore. I mean, this works. And that’s all that matters to me. I just need you to keep tellin’ me what’s on your mind. There’s a lot about humans I don’t understand yet, and a lot about you I’d still like to know. That sound alright?”

“Mmhm,” she nodded.

“Good. There anything else you feel like we should talk about, while we’re at it?”

”That’s it for me. What about you?”

“Well, I’ve kinda got one thing,” he admitted awkwardly. “Are, uh... Are you still attracted to me?”

She gave him a blank stare of confusion. “... Huh?”

“I mean, I... You’re twenty-two, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And if I were human, how old would you think I am? Just by lookin’ at me?”

“Um... About thirty?” she mumbled. “Maybe thirty-five?”

He felt his cheeks heat up. “You see what I’m sayin’? I look like I’ve got ten years on ya.”

Now it was her turn to blush. “W-Well, I, um... Yes, I’m very, very attracted to you, Soldagand.”

He gave her a small smile. “You don’t mind bein’ curled up next to this old man?”

“C’mon,” she huffed, “you know I think you’re handsome.”

“I know, I know. I just need to hear it from ya every so often.”

She frowned. “It baffles me that you could have any insecurities about your looks.”

“Hon,” he sighed, “when you’re friends with someone who looks like Aniketos, it happens.”

”I mean, Ani’s cute and all, but you’re in a league of your own.” She usually tried not to sound quite so infatuated, but she couldn’t help it.

He chuckled and averted his gaze in embarrassment. “You’re just sayin’ that. But thank you.” He kissed her cheek and held her tighter against his chest. “Should we go sit a lil closer to the fire? I know you like bein’ warm.”

“Won’t you be too hot, though?”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, according to you, I’m already too hot.” He flashed her a smug grin and a wink, making her face turn burgundy. Laughing to himself, he adjusted his hold on the girl and stood up with her in his arms to make his way to the hearth. There they stayed until it was time for bed, basking in the warm glow of the fire and enjoying each other’s quiet company.

[itsafanficthing]

The Paper Boy - Chapter 7

A03 is here

Saturday. The first week of school was finally complete. Claire had made it through with the help of Jamie and his friends, making a few of her own (the Hunter twins, Louise de La Tour, Frank Randall, and to Jamie's dismay- Tom Christie). She seemed to be fitting in well and as soon as his friends had had their fun with her posh accent, they had accepted her as one of their own.

Homework had piled up despite it being only the first week back and after Jamie finished his Saturday paper run and his morning chores (and a quick visit to the Demon Horse Donas) Jamie was spread out at the kitchen table with his Physics homework. Jenny was making jars of plum, raspberry and blackberry jams, occasionally singing along to the soft music of Fleetwood Mac playing in the background. Jamie studied his current question, twirling his pen in his fingers as he thought it over.

Problem 2.19

Jules Verne in 1865 suggested sending people to the Moon by firing a space capsule from a 200-m-long cannon with a launch speed of 10.97 km/s. What would have been the unrealistically large acceleration experienced by the space travelers during launch? Compare your answer with the free-fall acceleration 9.80 m/s2.

“What’s the question?” Jenny asked looking over at Jamie as the various jams bubbled away on the active top.

“It’s physics, acceleration patterns,” Jamie mumbled before he started to write some rough notes.

“Ye look like yer brain’s about to explode,” Jenny laughed as she turned back to the stove.

“Aye, I think I got it,” Jamie replied absentmindedly before scribbling out his previous answer and correcting his math.

They both worked in companionable silence as the music continued to flow through the kitchen. Jamie paused, looking up at Jenny as she sang along (Rhianna). It had been so long since they had simply enjoyed each other’s company and Jamie realised how much he missed it. They’d both been so busy with the farm and their own lives, that they had lost the joy of just being with each other. It didn’t matter that each were doing their own thing- simply being in each other’s company was a pastime sorely missed by Jamie. A time when Jenny wasn’t trying to parent Jamie and Jamie wasn’t trying to rebel against his sister.

“What’s wrong?” Jenny asked with her back to him, no doubt feeling his eyes on her.

“Nothin’,” Jamie grinned as he looked back down at his notebook.

“What are ye starin’ at?” Jenny asked as she turned around and Jamie could hear the amusement in her voice.

“It’s nothin’, we just have’na spent time like this together in a while. It’s good,” he mumbled somewhat embarrassed as Jenny made a satisfied grunt in acknowledgement.

“Aye, I ken.”

They both looked up at the sound of a knock on the front door, before looking at each other in confusion. Not many people came in through the front door; not many people who knew the Frasers anyway. More often than not people announced themselves as they walked in through the kitchen door.

“I’ll get it,” Jamie said as he stepped away from the table rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. “Could use the break anyway.”

Jenny nodded in acknowledgement before taking one her jams off the stove to cool.

Jamie opened the front door and was surprised to see Claire standing in front of him.

“Sassenach,” he greeted in surprise as Claire smiled at him.

“Jamie, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said blushing slightly. Jamie was wearing his ratty house clothes after a busy morning and he adjusted the hem of his old rugby jersey nervously.

“Not at all, I was just doin’ some homework. Come in.” Jamie stepped to the side as Claire passed him into the house. She smelt like… green- was the first word that came to Jamie’s mind- as if she had just risen out of freshly turned earth.

“I was in the kitchen with Jen,” Jamie said from behind her as he closed the door.

“If you’re busy I can go. Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn up unannounced, even though that’s exactly what I’ve just done. It’s just that I don’t have your phone number and I thought you might have finished with your chores and you might want to hang out, but if you’re busy I can go. I mean I have your house number, but not your mobile. Do you have a mobile? I was just sitting at home and I was bored and I thought that you might be bored as well so I walked over here. I should get a bike because it was much farther than I thought it was, but it’s a nice day out so it wasn’t so bad. But if you are busy I can go.” Claire spoke quickly, hardly taking a breath between one thought and the next, and barely letting Jamie respond as she made her way to the kitchen when Jenny turned around.

“Claire!” Jenny greeted happily as she wiped her hands on a tea towel before trotting over to hug Claire who looked slightly taken aback by the welcome but hugged her back nonetheless.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Claire’s voice was much softer than when she had been speaking to (at) Jamie and Jamie put it down to nerves at seeing Jenny again.

“Not at all. Jamie was just finishing up his homework, weren’t ye?” Jenny answered as she raised a meaningful eyebrow at Jamie.

“Aye, physics has had enough of my time for a Saturday,” Jamie nodded as he flipped his unfinished homework closed.

“Ye should take Claire around the property, show her the farm, she has’na seen it in daylight,” Jenny encouraged as she turned her back to the pair, clearly having decided their activity for them.

“Unless ye wanted to go somewhere else or do somethin’ else?” Jamie asked as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“That sounds perfect,” Claire answered with a slight blush to her cheeks.

—

Jamie ran quickly to his room to change into something a little more… well, a little more presentable. He didn’t care what his family saw him in, but he did care what Claire thought. She was wearing denim shorts and Jamie briefly worried about her pearlescent skin burning in the hot summer sun. Long slender legs with shorts that accentuated her small waist and shapely arse.

Upon returning to Claire who was waiting patiently for him in the hallway, he offered her some sun protection lotion and she took it gratefully explaining again, that the walk was much longer than she had thought- and the sun much hotter.

He tried not to look at her as she rubbed the lotion on her skin, he knew that there was nothing even remotely provocative about the way she was massaging the sun protection onto her body however, there was something so inherently sexy that Jamie could feel his cheeks flushing as he watched her. He felt indecent and immediately turned away from her to rub some onto his face. Perhaps try and disguise the red of his cheeks as rubbing his skin rather than from his indecent thoughts.

Thank the lord that Claire couldn’t read his mind. He was ashamed of the improper thoughts about her and would be mortified if she ever knew how often his body reacted to her.

When his father had given him “the talk” (a paralysingly horrendous ordeal for the pair of them) he had said that Jamie’s body would react to what he was attracted to, and sometimes without him even realising it. Sometimes when Jamie was least expecting it, or even a simple thought that usually he wouldn’t have even considered to be remotely sexual- his body had other ideas. That brought him some comfort at least. While he was largely in charge of his body, limbs and reactions, thanks to teenage hormones, there was also a lot of which he wasn’t in control.

His Da had also told him that when he met the right woman “he would know”. Jamie was sure that when his father had spoken with him, Brian meant years and years and years into the future. He didn’t mean right now. And so, although Jamie thought that he might be in love with Claire Beauchamp, he had certainly never been in love before, so how was he to know? Yes, she did things to his body, but love had to be more than that.

Other girls had given him a physical reaction of course. There was that one time that Laoghaire had worn a swimsuit- a two piece, that barely covered her body. Jamie had immediately looked away but not before he’d received an eyeful and his body reacted faster than his mind. The cold water that he had jumped in to avoid embarrassment had rapidly taken care of that issue.

Claire though, there was something about Claire. Just being around her gave him a hard-on, which was extremely unsettling when she was doing nothing beyond existing.

“Ready?” Claire asked as Jamie turned to face her. She was smiling at him brightly and he couldn’t help the swell of affection he felt for her. She still had some of the sunblock on her cheek, not quite rubbed into her skin.

“Aye, ye just have a bit of-” Jamie didn’t even think about it, he didn’t even hesitate, his hand was moving of its own accord. He gently cupped her chin while his thumb brushed lightly over her cheek.

Like pearl, satin, marble. Claire’s skin was smooth and Jamie found himself moving closer to her, his thumb making the same motion across her skin, though the mark had more than disappeared.

Her cheeks flushed as she met his eyes and his mouth dropped open, if nothing else to get some oxygen to his brain. Dhia, she was so beautiful, whisky swimming in her eyes, he was mesmerised. He could kiss her. He should kiss her. He wanted to kiss her. He needed to kiss her. Was time slowing down? What was that thumping noise in Jamie’s ears? His own heartbeat?

A cupboard slammed from the kitchen and Jamie could hear Jenny moving around and suddenly the room came back into focus with sudden clarity and Jamie stopped what he was doing. What was he doing? He couldn’t kiss her without her permission. He didn’t even know how she felt about him. She thought that they were friends, which they were, but still, you didn’t snog your friends.

“Lotion,” Jamie finished, “on yer cheek. I got it.” Taking a deep breath he took a rather large and somewhat unsteady step away from her and opened the door before striding purposefully out and readjusting himself surreptitiously.

She could never know the extreme effect she had on him.

—-

“Over there are the chickens,” Jamie pointed out as they walked casually through the back garden. “Ma had a wee vegetable patch over there. The horses are down on the back paddock at the moment, we could go see them?” He suggested without meeting Claire’s eyes. He couldn’t look at her after knowing the thoughts that went through his mind when she was putting on sun protection.

Claire nodded as she followed Jamie to the shed that housed most of the farming equipment.

“It’s a bit of a trek. We could take the bike,” Jamie said over his shoulder.

“I don’t have a bike,” Claire said with uncertainty as she followed Jamie.

“I dinna mean a push bike.” Jamie grunted as he heaved the roller door up to show his dirt bike. “This will be faster.”

“I can’t ride that!” Claire exclaimed as she saw what he meant, “I don’t know how.”

“Aye, but I do, all ye need to do is hang on.” Jamie smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner as he wheeled the heavy bike out of the shed.

“I… I’ve never been on a motorbike before,” Claire stammered as Jamie kicked the stand so that the bike was standing upright on its own.

“Weel, there’s a first for everything. This is just used for gettin’ about on the farm. I’ve been riding since a’fore I can remember. Ye’ll be safe with me- I promise. Jenny rides on the back all the time.”

“Do we… should we be wearing helmets? Or jackets?” Claire asked nervously as she took a step closer to the bike and reached out to touch it with a shaking hand, as if to reassure herself that it was real and wouldn’t jump start to life on its own and bite her hand off.

“Nah, not for riding around the farm. Trust me. I would’na let anything bad happen to ye.”

Claire looked between the bike and Jamie several times before she seemed to nod to herself and squared her shoulders bravely.

“Alright then.”

Jamie kicked the bike to life and he saw Claire flinch at the roaring sound.

“I promise ye- I will’na let harm come to ye,” he repeated, raising his voice over the rumbling of the bike.

Claire seemed to huff out a sigh before she gripped his shoulder tightly and swung her leg over the bike, sliding forward until she was pressed against him. He could feel the tension in her arms as she looped them around his middle and clung to him.

“And when you’re not there?” She asked with her breath on his neck as he fought not to shiver at the sensation.  

Rather than give a response he released the clutch slowly, applied a little pressure on the accelerator and they were off with a high pitched squeal from Claire.

—

If Jamie had thought that seeing Claire apply lotion to her skin was enough to give him a hard-on it was nothing- absolutely nothing - in comparison to the feeling of her arms around him and her body pressed up against his back, vibrating with the bike. He didn’t go fast, or at least, he tried not to go fast. It usually took him a few minutes on the bike to get to the back paddock with the horses, but with Claire almost squeezing the breath out of him at every bump it took much longer. He didn’t mind. Every second spent with her body pressed against him, her breath on his neck, was a memory that would be burned into his brain forever.

She squealed (in delight or fear, he didn’t know) as they went over a small mound, the wind whipping through both of their hair. She laughed as he rounded the corner and she lent the complete opposite way, trying to counter the tilt and it took a little wobble for him to right themselves.

As they arrived at the back paddock fence two of the horses came trotting over at the sound of the bike. The sound of the bike meant one thing - food.

Jamie shut off the bike and Claire stayed holding onto him.

“Err, Sassenach,” Jamie cleared his throat. “Ye can let go of me now, we’re here.”

Claire scrambled off the bike (off Jamie) and stumbled slightly as she tried to stand.

“Are ye alright?” He asked as he stood the bike up.

Her hair was well and truly windswept, curls flying in every direction, her cheeks were pink with excitement and her smile was positively luminous.

“That was wonderful!” She said happily before she cautiously made her way to the fence between her and the two large horses.

“Aye, we can go faster on the way back if ye like,” Jamie offered, turning back to grab the bag of grain that was hanging off the front.

Claire beamed at him before taking another tentative step toward the horses.

“This is Molly and Shelby,” Jamie introduced as he pulled out a handful of pellets and offered it to the horses. “Molly has been wi’ us for about five years, Shelby we got last winter from a rescue shelter. She used to be real skittish around people but now she canna get enough. Can ye Shel?” Jamie patted the chestnut neck of Shelby while Molly sniffed around for more food.

“How many horses do you have?” Claire asked, standing slightly behind Jamie.

“Seven at the moment, but we’re just housing two of them for the shelter- Manny and Marcus. Shelby, Molly, Thistle, Percy and Donas are ours.”

“Donas?” Claire repeated looking thoughtful. “He’s the demon horse?”

Jamie grinned back at her. “Aye, tryin’ to train him at the moment. He could be great, he just needs a bit o’ discipline. It’s good to have him around the other horses. Someone must’ha done a number on him. Nearly took my arm off the first time I tried to pat him. He was all skin and bones then.”

“Do you rescue a lot of horses?” Claire asked as she bravely took a step towards Molly who immediately started searching for treats on Claire with great huffs from her nostrils.

“No’ a lot. We like to help out where we can. Da says he’d like to start trainin’ up horses to sell, but I think he gets too attached to let them go once they are. Thistle and Percy were Ma’s, they’re gettin’ on a bit now but I dinna think Da can bear putting’ them down. Still probably got a few more years in them yet.”

A screeching neigh came from across the field and a black blur started galloping towards them.

“That’ll be Donas,” Jamie sighed as blur picked up speed, heading toward them.

“He will stop, won’t he?” Claire asked nervously as Donas moved with no intent of slowing down.

“Aye, he just wants to show off.”

Donas did eventually stop after emitting a high pitched squeal from Claire as he ran directly at the fence before turning briskly and running a few laps back and forth. Molly and Shelby, to their credit, hardly flinched as he ran past them, snorting at them and throwing in a few bucks, trying to spook them. Claire had taken a few scrambling steps back from the fence and was somewhat hidden behind Jamie when Donas finally stopped.

“He seems very…” Claire paused as she thought over the word.

“Insane?” Jamie suggested as Donas stopped in front of him and started nuzzling Shelby and Molly out of the way.

“Spirited,” Claire laughed as Jamie held out some grains for Donas, who gobbled them up greedily.

“Aye, that’s certainly one way of looking at it,” Jamie agreed as he slapped Donas’s neck heavily.

“Where are the other horses?” Claire inched closer back to the fence, away from Donas, but closer to Molly.

“Probably right down the back. They won’t come up to the fence till around sunset. The rescue horses did’na have much space to run around, so they spend most of the time just stretching their legs, ‘cause they can. Percy and Thistle like to keep an eye on ‘em.”

“So, I assume you’ve been riding all your life?”

“Aye, since I could sit up straight. Used to sit in front of my Da and he’d ride us around the property. I thought I was so important, ridin’ round, checking on the farm. It seemed a lot more fun as a kid, but when ye can actually help out, everything becomes a chore. What about ye? Have ye ridden before?” Jamie pulled his hand away from Donas quickly as Claire gasped. The horse had gone for a wee nip when he realised that Jamie wasn’t offering any more food. “It’s fine,” Jamie shook off the question before Claire could ask it. “Ye learn to read the horses, and especially this beast. I ken well enough when he’s about to turn on me. So, riding?” He asked again.

“I err, once, a long time ago, with my parents. I was shockingly awful at it and have refused to get back onto another horse since,” Claire answered before tentatively reaching out and stroking Molly’s nose.

“Ye did’na like it?” Jamie asked in surprise, though his brain was spinning with the first time that Claire had voluntarily spoken about her parents.

“I didn’t feel like I was in control,” Claire answered shortly with a shrug.

“Aye, ye dinna like things being out of yer control. Ye’ve said,” Jamie nodded sagely as Molly huffed and Claire’s hands snapped back away from the horse.

“I was only seven at the time,” Claire defended. “If the horse wanted to kick me off, there wasn’t a lot I could do about it, except fly through the air and land.”

“Did it kick ye off?” Jamie asked with a smirk. There was something wildly entertaining about seeing Claire self-righteously angry.

“No, but it could have.”

“When yer riding a horse, ye need to show that ye are in control. That’s why I’m havin’ problems with Donas. He keeps thinkin’ that he’s the one that’s callin’ the shots, but he is’na. I’m the one tha’ put the saddle on him. I’m the one that can take it back off.”

“I was seven,” Claire repeated. “How’s a seven year old, that’s never ridden a horse before, know how to control it!” She exclaimed in exasperation as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Confidence. Fake it till ye make it, ken?” Jamie answered her rhetorical question happily. “I’ve been ridin’ by myself since I was four, trainin’ properly on them since I was six. It’s always been the same. If I believe I can do it, so does the horse. If I have doubts, so do they.”

Claire huffed and rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m serious. It’s why I’ve fallen off Donas so many times. If I doubt myself and what I’m doin’ with him, he’ll boot me as soon as he can. But I just have to pick maself back up and try again, he canna know that he got the best of me.”

Claire reached out to stroke Molly’s nose again and Molly huffed once more. This time Claire didn’t withdraw her hand.

“Bloody intelligent beasts,” Jamie continued as he rubbed Thistle’s neck (Donas having realised that there was no more food had wandered away to eat some grass at the edge of the fence). “And they’re loyal- trusting, once ye show them that ye can be too.”

“Are you?” Claire asked and Jamie saw her swallow heavily.

“Am I what? Loyal?” Jamie asked, turning away from her to look at Thistle. The conversation had taken a much deeper tone than Jamie was expecting and he felt that he shouldn’t look at Claire just now. Rather he should direct his attention to the horses in front of them, as if he was talking to Thistle rather than Claire.

“Can I trust you?” Claire asked softly and it took most of his willpower not to look over at her and read her thoughts from her face.

“Aye, Sassenach. I’d like to think so.”

--

Claire was quiet as they walked around the property. She stopped occasionally to study a plant, making small humming sounds as she thought things over before following Jamie again. It reminded him of when he had first taken her to the town and she had packed her bag full of various weeds on the way, wanting to study them again later. She seemed to be thinking over something carefully but wasn’t quite ready to talk about it. Jamie was more than happy just to be in her company and watch her as her eyes lit up over the wildflowers.

“How’s your paper route going?” She asked suddenly, appearing by his side as he leant against a tree, waiting for her to catch up.

“It’s fine. Keeps me busy, puts a little extra money in my pocket,” Jamie answered, pushing away from the tree. Claire had stopped to look at some mushrooms at the base and he paused waiting for her.

“Did your father want you to get a job, or did you want it?” She asked. Her hands had stilled over the plant, as if she wanted to look busy, but she was waiting on his response.

“Nah, he worried that I wouldn’a get my chores done as well as the route. But I wanted the extra money, and it does’na take long.”

“Why don’t you use the motorbike? Wouldn’t it be quicker?”

“Aye, it would, but it’s a farm bike. I’m not licenced to drive it on roads, strictly speaking.”

It didn’t look like Claire was going to move from the base of the tree, and as she looked back at him curiously, Jamie made up his mind to simply plant himself next to her and just ask her what she was thinking about.

As he plopped himself down and started pulling up chunks of grass, she sat down properly to face him. Though it seemed that he didn’t need to ask her what was on her mind because as soon as she made herself comfortable, words started streaming out of her.

“My parents never wanted me to get a job while at school. They said that studying is the most important thing and that they would worry about the money. Lamb says the same thing, but I don’t even know where I could even get a job in this town. I could run a competing paper route, I suppose, but I don’t think that your Uncle would be too thrilled about that?”

“Murtagh is’na my uncle,” Jamie inputted when Claire paused to take a breath. “He’s my godfather.”

“Lamb is mine. My godfather I mean. He’s also my uncle, but he’s my godfather. That’s why I’m with him now. Would you and Jenny go to Murtagh if something happened to your Father?”

Jamie shook his head, “No, Jen’s old enough to take care of the both of us now. Maybe a few years ago we would have, but no, not now.”

“I didn’t really see much of Lamb until I turned four-no-fifteen. He was always away. He decided that he was going to write a book so he came back to settle in Oxford with us. He hasn’t written the book yet, but I’ve seen a few drafts. It’s not bad.”

Claire was pulling individual blades of grass from the ground and wasn’t meeting Jamie’s eyes. Was this when he was finally going to find out where her parents were? He always wondered, but he didn’t want to push it- especially if something terrible had happened to them. He was about to ask when Claire continued.

“Moving here, to Scotland… it was supposed to be a fresh start… for both of us. He could start writing his book again and I… and I…” Jamie heard Claire’s voice thicken and he glanced up at her to see that there were tears brimming in her eyes.

“Claire,” Jamie said softly, dropping his handful of grass and taking her smaller, delicate hand in his own. “Yer safe wi’ me. Ye dinna need to tell me anythin’ ye dinna want to.”

Claire nodded, biting her lip before shaking her head, as if to shake away the tears. She didn’t let go of his hand.

“The psych- the doctors said that it would get better, that it would get easier. But… I’m so terrified that the moment that it starts getting easier- that I’ll start to forget them.”

“Tell me about them,” Jamie prompted. He surmised that her parents were no longer around, that much was clear, but the way that Claire was talking made Jamie wonder how long they had been gone.

“My mum,” Claire paused to sniff and her grip on Jamie’s hand increased for a moment, “she loves… she loved to laugh, and she has this… this ridiculous laugh that you can’t help but laugh along with her. She snorts a lot, which always makes me laugh more. She’s kind- to everyone- loves animals. It was her idea to take me horse riding. She’s smart, really smart and I’m worried that I’m not going to be as smart as she is- as she wants me to be. Julia. Her name is… was Julia.” Claire took a few moments to swallow and catch her breath before she continued.

“Dad was strict when I was a child. I don’t have a lot of memories of us together, but mum always told me that it was because he was working so hard for us. It wasn’t until I turned eight or nine that I really started understanding my dad. The first time he laughed in front of me, I couldn’t even join in. I was so amazed that he was laughing at something.” Claire sniffed and Jamie nodded along, though she wasn’t looking at him.

“He started… it was like he started to enjoy life and he finally let me see it. He’s stubborn, Lamb says that I get that from him. He expects great things from me, like the piano, school, everything and I don’t want to let him down. Though, I guess I can’t really do that now. Not much left to let down.”

Jamie cleared his throat quietly. “What happened to them?”

Claire shook her head as she bit her lip.

“Ye dinna have to say if ye dinna want to,” Jamie offered quickly. “We can talk about something else.”

“It’s fine. It’s just… They’re dead. People say pass away, but they didn’t pass anywhere. They died.” Claire’s voice shifted and was unnervingly devoid of emotions. It reminded him of how Jenny spoke about their mother sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” Jamie said softly, she was still gripping his hand tightly and Jamie found he couldn’t have let go of her even if he wanted.

“People always say that they are sorry, and… I don’t know, it just feels weird, doesn’t it?”

“I always thought that, at my mam’s funeral. All these people sayin’ “sorry for yer loss” and I remember thinkin’ ‘why are ye apologising? Ye didn’t kill her.’”

Claire laughed quickly and unexpectedly at that, a short, sharp shout that had her grinning and nodding at him. “I used to think the same thing. I think people just need something to say, so they say sorry.”

“Yer probably right.”

They both settled into their own thoughts for a moment, listening to the trees rustle in the wind, birds fluttering from tree to tree, calling out to each other, insects buzzing through the longer grass.

“Mum died first,” Claire said suddenly. “She was at work and collapsed. They thought she’d just fainted… but she had a brain aneurysm. It was so sudden and no one… there were no signs. Dad… Dad was home with me, when he got the call that she was on life support. He left me at home to go, said that he would call me when he got an update. He didn’t make it to the hospital. He pulled out of our street and… and he got hit, drivers side door. No drunk driver. Nothing. Just pulling out onto the street, just unlucky. I didn’t even know until the police sirens.” Claire sniffed and tears started to run steadily down her cheeks. “Both, in one night, separate accidents. What are the chances of that?”

“Claire,” Jamie gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

“The police came to the house to tell my mum that dad was in an accident. Instead they got me. I told them that it was a mistake, that my mum was in the hospital and dad was already on the way. I thought they’d just got their wires crossed. I’ll never forget when they realised what had actually happened. I could actually see the colour drain from their faces.” Claire shook her head and Jamie wished he had a packet of tissues or something to help dry her eyes. “One of them left to get on the radio and I knew that something was wrong.” Claire shook her head, as if she was trying to shake off the memory. Jamie couldn’t blame her.

“Lamb turned up the next day and I’ve been with him ever since.”

“How… how long ago?” Jamie struggled to speak around the lump in his throat.

“It will be 18 months on Wednesday.”

“Claire, I… I dinna ken what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Bad things happen all the time.” Claire tried to shrug but Jamie could see her trembling, her eyes glassy, and without thinking about it, he gathered her into his arms. It was like a dam breaking and she clung to him as she sobbed.

Jamie’s mind was racing. Both parents in one night. How could someone ever cope with that? Jamie couldn’t imagine. He could feel the tears from Claire soaking into his shirt but he couldn’t care less. He was gripping her tightly, tighter than he otherwise would have, as if holding her so close would hold her together. He could feel his own eyes welling with tears. They were sitting uncomfortably, Claire almost sitting in Jamie’s lap and his legs starting to go to sleep, but he wouldn’t have moved for anything in the world.

His mother's sickness had been long and drawn out and as much as Jamie hated himself for it, in the end he wanted her to slip away just so that she wouldn’t be in pain anymore. He had months to grieve while she was still alive. He got to say goodbye. Claire wasn’t given that luxury. It was all still so fresh to her. When she spoke about her parents, she spoke like they were still here. Jamie remembered doing that with his mother as well. It took many corrections from Jenny for him to finally switch into past tense about his mum.

Slowly Claire’s sobbing turned into shallow hiccups and then she was breathing deeply- her eyes dry. Jamie couldn’t find it in himself to let her go. They’d shared something so deeply personal, thatto let her out of his arms would feel like a tether between them, and he wasn’t ready for that.

“I dinna think ye’ll forget them,” he said softly into her hair. She was trembling. “I have’na forgotten my ma, I worry that I will, but there’s so much of her in Jen and in me that it’s impossible.” Jamie paused as a shudder ran through Claire and she sniffed. “I never met yer ma or yer da, but I daresay there’s a lot more of them in ye then ye give yerself, or them, credit for.”

Claire laughed, surprising Jamie and she slowly sat up, though she held onto his hand again. Jamie felt the separation from her immediately and wished that he could have held her for just a little while longer.

“Lamb says the same thing. I have the short temper of my father, but the same laugh as my mother.” Claire sniffed again and quickly wiped her eyes. “I look atrocious, don’t I?”

Jamie shook his head quickly. Her eyes were red and puffy, yes, but the golden flecks in her brown eyes shone brighter than he’d ever seen them. Yes, her nose was bright red and her lips puffy but he’d never wanted to kiss her more in his life.

“Ye look bonnie, Sassenach. Jus’ bonnie.”

Claire huffed out a laugh and shook her head, disagreeing with him. “You’re much too kind to me.”

“I’m just honest with ye, is all.”

Claire shook her head again, but at least she was smiling now. “Thank you. For letting me talk about that. I haven’t really… I mean, I talk to Lamb, but it was his brother, so it’s hard. But I… I needed to talk about it with someone that didn’t know them.”

“I would have liked to… know them I mean,” Jamie said truthfully.

“Me too.”

—

An easy quiet settled over the both of them as they wandered around the edge of the property. The kind of ease that can only be achieved by sharing something personal that allows you to actually be vulnerable in front of another person. Jamie felt like he understood Claire a little bit better now, though he still had a long way to go. Now he understood why she withdrew into herself and into her own thoughts.

He understood why the first day of school was particularly difficult for her. He understood why sometimes she wouldn’t want to hang out on the weekends. He finally understood what Lamb was talking about when he said that he wanted them to be careful and that she had been through a lot in the past few months. Claire had gone through more in the past year than most people faced in their lives.

Claire still stopped to look at various plants and weeds. Jamie was happy to wait for her as she plucked and picked various plants. She looked relaxed- more relaxed than he had ever seen her.

“I don’t... I don’t want the people at school to know- About my mum and dad,” she said over her shoulder as she picked a flower and smelled it. “I don’t want them to pity me or see me any different. If that’s ok.”

“Yer secrets safe wi’ me, Sassenach. I will’na say anything.”

Claire nodded in satisfaction before she was bent back down looking at other plants. She looked lighter than before, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Jamie remembered the first time he had really broken down and told someone how much he missed his mother. Murtagh had been helping with the horses and suddenly it was all too much for Jamie. There were too many memories of his mother in the stables for him to escape. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about his mother’s death since they had buried her. He thought that he had to be strong for his Da and for Jenny. He thought that it meant shoving everything he was feeling deep down and getting on with things. It was a terrible idea and one random day when he was filling a bucket with more food for the horses in the stables with Murtagh was the day that Jamie fell apart.

He could just picture his mother stroking the horses necks and speaking to them softly in Gaelic. Murtagh had been brushing one of the rescue horses and suddenly Jamie was huddled on the mucky straw filled floor sobbing and struggling to breathe.

He was sure that Murtagh had been thoroughly confused. One second Jamie had been refilling the food, the next he was gone.

A panic attack- that’s what Murtagh told him it was. All Jamie knew was that he suddenly couldn’t breathe, like a stone was sitting on his chest and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Then he was crying and when Murtagh finally located him and asked him what was wrong, Jamie could barely speak. At first he’d thought he was having a heart attack, or maybe a seizure, but Murtagh had sat patiently with him until Jamie had calmed down and could breathe normally again.

They’d spoken about his mum then; about how she loved the horses, how the house felt empty without her, how much Jamie missed her, about how guilty Jamie felt for wishing she would just pass away because he couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain and now it was his fault that she was gone. Murtagh had listened carefully, injected his own stories about Ellen Fraser, but more than anything he let Jamie sit in his grief for a moment. He didn’t try to tell him that there was nothing for Jamie to be upset about. He didn’t try to fix any of Jamie’s guilt or pain. He simply let Jamie exist and work through everything he had been pushing down for months.

Once Jamie had exhausted himself, feeling lighter than he had in months, Murtagh stood up, held out his hand for Jamie and pulled him up from the grubby floor. He clapped Jamie on the shoulder, told him that he was proud of him and then promptly went back to his chores as though nothing had happened.

From that day, Murtagh had cemented himself as a confidant to Jamie. Whenever Jamie needed to voice his worries or his anxiety, Murtagh was always there, ready to listen. He hardly ever gave advice, he mostly just listened as Jamie came to the conclusion by himself.

Jamie wondered if Claire had that with her Uncle. Could she go to him when she needed to voice her fears? Perhaps not, as it felt like she had been shouldering the weight of her parents' deaths for a long time and after finally telling Jamie what had happened, she looked much happier.

Grief shared is grief managed- or something like that.

“Are ye ready to head back?” Jamie asked as the horse's paddock came back into view.

“I suppose, if you’re ready,” Claire answered shyly. Her hands were full of various plants she had collected from around the property- meticulously extracted from the ground to keep as much of the roots intact as possible.

“Weel, ye’ll be wanting to get them in water I suppose,” Jamie indicated the plants.

“Yes, of course… I just… how…” Claire stuttered as she looked between the bike and her plants.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need both hands to hold on so that I don’t fly off the back. I just… how do I get these back?” Her forehead creased in a frown as she tried to figure out how to hold the plants and Jamie at the same time.

Jamie laughed, he couldn’t help it. It was the look on her face. A mix of disappointment and confusing thoughts. “Ye can throw them in the bag with the feed. I’m sure the horses will’na mind a bit of dirt with their food.”

An embarrassed sort of smile appeared on Claire's face as she mumbled “oh of course”.

Jamie helped her with her plants, got her situated on the back of the bike, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist once more and with another squeal from Claire, they were off.

[a-simple-imagine]

Rose’s Girl

Requested by @kileyrose-2003:  I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a Rose the Hat imagine where the reader goes in a relationship back and forth between members of True Knot, mainly Crow Daddy, and Rose finally gets jealous enough she does the whole "You're mine, Y/n."

Pairing: Rose the Hat x fem!reader, lots of Crow Daddy x fem!reader

Words: 4.3+

A/N - This may not be exactly what you wanted sorry. I hope you enjoy it either way. I didn’t mean to end it with sex 

Warnings - Swearing, kidnapping, sexual references and elements of smut towards the end (nothin too explicit) 

With a tattered copy of The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan discards by your side, you sit snuggled between the open legs of Crow Daddy who was on a lawn chair just behind you; enjoying the heat radiating from the campfire. You bought the book on the long drive up to the current campsite the True Knot was occupying. You and Andi took a detour into a small bookshop where the owner, who wore the cutest kitten jumper and had to have been in her sixties, recommended it when you asked for something a little different. After a few chapters, you weren't quite sure what to make of it but you were determined to finish it. Right now, however, all attention was on the marshmallows at the end of the stick in your hand hovering over an open flame. Twisting it slowly to ensure a completely golden brown coverage. Believing them to be just right, you pull back and pluck one of the white treats off the end. Sticky white marshmallow goo covering the pads of your fingers as you pop it into your mouth. The next one you offer to the man behind you. Holding the stick up for him but he just shakes his head. Signaling to Andi who was sat a few people away from you on the other side of the fire, she tosses you an unopened bag of graham crackers. Combining the crackers and a marshmallow with the milk chocolate bar you had stashed away for later, you create a reasonably sized S'more. Looking up at Crow again, you offer him the improved snack but not without taking a bite first. He accepts it this time, probably out of courtesy more than anything else. You appreciate it either way. You make another one for yourself, finishing it off in two bites before letting your head fall to rest against Crow's clothed thigh. You liked nights like this, where everything was simply at peace. It could be described as the calm before the storm. The time before everything had to be packed up so you could move on to a new location. Everyone was doing their own thing. Andi and Apron Annie we're chatting as Annie roasted marshmallows. Barry was throwing things into the fire rather recklessly. Silent Sarey walks into the light of the fire, sitting down next to Andi. Grandpa Flick was around somewhere too; you could hear the music coming from his radio.

"Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?" You look up, waiting for him to continue.

"Where?" You eventually ask although the answer was going to be yes. You liked doing things alongside Crow when they weren't strictly business-related.

"Find the kid." He replies casually. "Last check. Make sure we've got the right one?"

Watching the flames of orange and red dance, you nod a little. "Yeah," Both palms against his thighs, you push yourself up and onto your feet. Brushing off the crumbs from your s'more, you collect your book. "You coming to bed?"

Wishing the others goodnight, you come to a halt when you spy Rose the Hat in the dim light of the candles around her. She sat alone on a cushioned bench right beside her Earthcruiser. You wonder why she didn't come over but maybe she just wanted to be alone. Offering her a smile, you're not even sure she can see before pushing her to the back of your mind. Recently you had been spending most nights with Crow and tonight would be no different.

Early morning darkness peeked through the gap in the curtains and you wake from your slumber. Crow snoring softly beside you, he's turned away with a blanket covering most of his body and one arm resting over your back. You close your eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep but after a while, you decide to get up. Slipping carefully out from under him, Crow groans a little and you freeze. With the coast clear, you creep towards the door and exit the camper in search of a change of clothes. The sun was beginning to rise casting a dull glow over the campsite. You imagine everyone else is still sleeping as you stroll over the grass. It was so... quiet. After you had changed, you decide to head back to check on Crow Daddy. Surely he's awake by now.

"You're up early." Twisting on your heel, you see Rose; reaching up and stretching out her arms. Your tired eyes drift over her taking in everything from her long boho skirt adorned with a flower pattern, to the snug t-shirt that said 'Weekend Wine Club. New members welcome' in large black letters. You could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Her trusty hat sat upon her messy sleep-disturbed hair. "We never normally see you before noon."

"Got a job to do today," An amused smile settles on your lips as you meet her silver eyes. You did like to sleep in but where was the harm in that? Early birds catch the worm but you much prefer when someone else does the work for you.

"Oh," The word seemed more sarcastic than surprised. "And what would that be?"

Before you could respond, two arms wrap around you and pull you closer. "Mornin' ladies," You recognise the voice as Crow. "You ready to go?"

"Morning," you peck his cheek. "Yeah. I was just coming to get you actually. Some of us have been up for hours." You tease, turning back to the other woman as you push out of his grip. "Bye Rose."

Rose offers up a tight-lipped smile but you think nothing of it, waving dismissively and head for the Jeep. Pulling on the handle before waiting patiently as the two of them converse in a hushed tone. They often did this but Crow was basically second in command so you sort of just accept it for what it is. He finally unlocks the car as he heads towards you, the feeling of being watched radiating from the woman left behind. You keep your eyes on her as you pull away and she does the same.

"How far away is the kid?" You mumble - half grumble - leaning down against your hand. The sun had come up now, gracing the land with its early morning light. There were few clouds in the sky and even fewer cars on the road. The radio plays a tune you couldn't place no matter how hard you tried. It was a strange mix of country and rock. Time merging with the endless stream of trees that seemed to surround you. You were getting bored, trees could only hold your attention so long; the river you zoomed past was pretty though. You really should have brought your book, maybe that would have helped kill some time.

"Not far. Can't you tell?" You shake your head a little. Glancing to him and then back at the endless forest.

"Never been good at the whole GPS in my head thing." You explain with a little shrug. It wasn't entirely a lie but it was more like you never actually tried. It was a skill you didn't think you had. Before joining the True Knot, you hardly used your abilities at all. Cheating on exams mainly. You also enjoyed spying on people's thoughts when the boredom got too much. You had heard some pretty sick things over the years but it was mostly just mindless drivel. "Never needed it."

"Not everyone can do it but it's pretty basic." He states matter-of-factly. You'd laugh if you didn't think he was being condescending.

"Yeah well..." your voice drifts off since you don't really have an excuse; shrugging your shoulders. A short silence comes between the two of you filled by the lyrics of the song that was now more rock.

"We're about an hour away. If we find the kid, we should be able to pack up and be gone by tomorrow night."

"Good," you declare with a heavy sigh, spying something which you think is a fox darting among the brambles. "I'm starving."

"It's been a couple months since we had steam. You shouldn't be that desperate,"

"That last kid wasn't all that steamy," you fire back, thinking about the night in question. It had been three months, maybe four if your memory can be trusted and sure you've gone longer without it but you shouldn't have to. You didn't want to. "And Rose is so strict with the canisters."

"She knows what she's doing," He explains. If there was one thing Crow was good at, it was making excuses for Rose. You were pretty sure Rose could do just about anything and he'd find a way to justify it. Not inherently a bad thing, they had a good relationship. It was just a little annoying sometimes.

"Are we running low?" The car screeches to a halt at a small clearing in the woods. Tall trees tower over you in a way that makes you feel suffocated. You spot a few log cabins in the distance as well as group of rubes gathered around a wooden picnic table. It seems your question would go unanswered so you move on to a more obvious one. "This is the place?"

"You can't tell?" You roll your eyes, getting fed up of him not answering your questions.

"Which one is it?" You look to him, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

"Figure it out."

You stare at him like he's just said the most ridiculous thing you've heard in a long time. Was he not listening to you earlier? "You know I can't."

"Try." You turn back to the camp; wondering what kind of place it was? It seemed like a camp for kids which was cute. How long had it been here? Probably a while. Did many rubes come to visit? How many were here right now? You didn't fancy knowing the answer to that one. "Just close your eyes and focus."

Air pulled sharply into your lungs, your eyes snap closed in order to humor the man. The trouble with your abilities is that they didn't come with an instruction manual. Everything was a matter of winging it so right now, you had no idea where to start. You didn't know what you were looking for or how it was supposed to feel. And so it only takes a minute or two for you to give up. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can, Y/N." He replies firmly, "just relax."

There's a part of you that wants to be honest and actually learn but there's an even bigger part that just wants this to be over. You try to figure it out through Crow, surely he already knows but you're not getting anything from him. Knowing him, he's probably blocking you out. You take another deep breath but this time you actually focus on locating the rube in question. There should only be three people in the immediate area with enough power to satisfy and two of them were sat in this car. You just had to single out the other one. The music dies down around you and a hand gently rests on your thigh, squeezing softly. An image - a feeling - pops into your mind, brief but long enough for you to get a clear picture. "Do you know who it is?"

"Yes,"

"Is it the small blonde with pigtails?" You wonder, slowly opening your eyes again. You don't expect to be right. "Ca- Casey, no Cassie... maybe?"

He nods but in a way that tells you he's not really listening anymore.

"For real?" Your surprise is evident in your voice. It had been much easier than you thought.

"Yes. We give off a kind of signal to each, maybe it's a survival thing I don't know, but we're drawn to each other like metal to a magnet."

"I'm certainly drawn to you," you hum, lips curling up into a smirk. Crow clearly wasn't in the mood for messing around right now.

"They're going on a hike tomorrow. We can grab her then."

Your little adventure came to a quick close and you returned to home base more than happy with yourself. "I wanna tell Rose," There's a hint of excitement in your voice that you fail to hide as you practically leap out the Jeep. You were hoping for praise even if Crow did help out a little bit. Walking through the middle of the camp, you ask around before heading to her door. Knocking twice before barging in. You don't know what you were expecting to see but she was just sat on her bed. Her legs crossed, with what you think is a cup of tea in her hands.

"Did you find her?" Were the first words out of her mouth. She didn't even look up at you.

"Yeah," you reply happily, shutting the door behind you and waking further inside. "Crow helped me with my tracking so I'm basically a pro now."

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Crow lately." Her eyes flicker to yours as she lifts the cup to her lips. "What happened to the others?"

Your brow furrows. Others could mean literally anyone so you stay quiet.

"What about Snakebite Andi? Weren't you cozying up to her not long ago? And even Silent Sarey at one point?"

"Does it matter?" You inquire. It was none of her business but you're curious as to why she feels entitled to bring it up. "Crow and I are just having some fun. He's.... cool-"

"And a real good fuck." She interrupts loudly. Heat pools in your cheeks but she's not wrong. "Tea? I just brew a fresh pot."

"Uh..." You shake your head. "No thanks."

"There's no need to be shy, Y/N. I've been there and so have you... more than once apparently and also with half this campsite."

A humorless huff of a laugh falls past your lips. The thing about living for a long time was that monogamy could become kind of tedious. Hundreds of years with the same person may seem romantic in theory but in practice, it would become less so. There was love, sure but there was less pressure when it came to sex. You personally found yourself in a situation were you just drifted in and out of a casual relationship with other members of the tribe. The funny thing was that it actually started with Rose; back when she turned you, she became your everything. Things between the two of you actually lasted a while but one day she just... changed. "What's your point?"

"I just don't want you causing problems." Her eyes narrow in and you shift your weight uncomfortably. She was being weird. Why did she care who you slept with? Was fucking Crow an issue because they were close?

"Is that the only reason?" You wonder, letting your playful side take centre stage in case this backfired. "Or are you just jealous that I'm not kissing your ass anymore."

Her hands tensed around the mug. "Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" You challenge, offering her a smirk. "You'll spank me?"

She laughed, more like a giggle than an outright laugh but it was nice. For a moment you thought she was actually mad. "Don't tempt me," She took a slow sip of her tea before placing it down. "Bet you'd like being bent over my knee."

"If I remember correctly," you pause, pretending to think about it. "you're the one who said I was too needy and pushed me away in the first place."

"That didn't mean go fuck everyone else," she snapped before regaining her composure. You had been messing around before but there was no doubt now. You didn't know if it was of you or Crow but Rose was definitely jealous.

"Fuck you, Rose." You hold up a middle finger as you exit her RV. That wasn't how you expected that conversation to go at all. She's allowed to fuck anyone she wants but when you do it, it's suddenly an issue? You half expected her to come running after you, not in a cute romantic comedy way but more in a threatening 'don't speak to me like that' kinda way.

"What happened?" Crow asks as you march past him.

"Go ask her."

As the sun begins to set, you're sat in Crow's lap. After a mug of hot chocolate, you had calmed down significantly and let the argument slip from your mind. You lick your finger, flipping to the next page in your stupid werewolf book. Crow's arms were wrapped around you, keeping you in place as he chats with Grandpa Flick. You don't really notice her at first but she was kind of hard to ignore.

"Come to chat with the commoners, oh so powerful leader?" Sliding your fingers between the pages of your book to ensure you don't lose your spot, you close over it over in order to give the woman your full attention. "Don't you have a dark corner to brood in."

"Ha ha." She utters sarcastically. "I came to talk to Crow. Maybe you should run along so the grown-ups can talk, yeah?"

"What's up?" Crow squeezes you gently, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I was serious." Rose growls, giving you a look. You glance between the both of them, slipping down off his lap. Still had to respect Rose to some degree. You watch them from afar for a moment wondering what they were talking about. Was it about the kid? About you? Or about something else entirely? You'd never know.

Everything was packed up pretty quickly and you were speeding down the back roads by lunch. Tossing Cheetos into your mouth from the passenger seat of Rose's camper; watching  the world go by as you lead the charge. She had insisted you ride with her and you really hadn't the energy to argue. For most of the ride you had kept to yourself, finishing the last few chapters of your book but when that had come to its thrilling conclusion you started playing with the mic. You were trying to tell Andi, who was riding with Sarey, all about the events of The Last Werewolf but Rose kept going on and on about how she may need it for something important. She ended up using it to formulate a plan with Crow. And so you were left listening to the generic pop song that had started on the radio and wondering why you hadn't ridden with Crow instead. You liked Rose but she was quiet today and the tension between you was icy. It hadn't taken long to secure dinner, you didn't even have to leave the Earthcruiser. In an abandoned lot far enough away from the summer camp to not be suspicious, you feed for the first time in what felt like forever or more accurately a few months. You were given shovel duty alongside Annie but you don't mind. Once you were done, you just got back in the RVs and moved on. Heading to the next location miles away from the last. The tribe taking a break at a rest stop to refuel. The place was practically a ghost town. There wasn't much around so you expect that to be why. Perusing the stock of the gas station, the man behind the counter's stare follows you around the store. He obviously didn't trust you and in some ways he was right not to but you'd never steal anything from here so you were pretty offended by the notion. The selection of candy and treats were too great that you just couldn't decided. Eventually you opt for a bag of gummy bears which just so happen to be Vegetarian. Not that it made a difference to you. You also grab some grapes that you found in the fridge, they were purple and came in a little sealed plastic tub. Returning to the RV, the other woman had been waiting. She smiles warmly as you step in and you smile right back. A long discussion follows on why you consume so much rube shit when you don't need to. It was a matter of indulging yourself more so than anything else. You could eat whatever you wanted and not have to worry about the consequences which is like every rube's dream.

The thing with having just taken steam is that it not only made you look young, it made you feel it too so you were sat with energy to burn. There was a certain element to it that made you very... frisky too which was never a bad thing. So, when you finally stopped for the night, it was kind of expected that you'd end up naked in her bed. Crow probably figured that too when you explain how you'd be ditching him for Rose although they weren't the words you used at the time. Your breathing was raged and you were covered in a thin layer of sweat but this was the best you'd felt in ages. Almost in tears over how good it felt. Dark, silver eyes met yours from between your legs. Peppering wet kisses in a winding trail as she crawled painstakingly slowly up your body "You're mine, Y/N." She whispers softly in your ear, lighting a fire inside you. This side of Rose was one you hadn't experienced in a long time and you were loving every second of it. Every touch like a spark of electricity. She knew what you liked and it showed. "Only mine." The nibbling on your ear drifted to your neck. Taking her time before moving to a new spot. She was obviously marking you but didn't care to stop her especially when it felt so good. The others could probably hear the two of you anyway; you weren't exactly trying to stay quiet. You probably couldn't even if you tried. Her teeth pierce the skin, the pain sharp and you immediately push her away.

"You're being too rough,"

"You like it rough," She wasn't wrong. Reaching up, you hold her face in your hands admiring her before connecting in a slow and gentle embrace; tasting yourself.

"Crow's always so gentle with me." You whisper against her lips. Wanting, so desperately, to get a rise out of her. Fuelling her jealous side. She pushed you firmly against the mattress, stranding your hips.

"Is that right?" She questions, holding you in place for a few seconds. Her fingertips dancing gently over your chest. You didn't dare move and she knew as much. "Is he better than me?"

"Verdicts still out," you reply, shrugging your shoulders just a little. "I think you're gonna have to prove yourself."

"You're playing with fire, little one." There was a smirk on her lips as she ghosted your lips. "Best be careful you don't get burned."

You never liked that phrase. Her smile faded into the night, meeting your eyes. Her body was considerably less tense. "Did I hurt you?"

"You're good, maybe just don't bite so hard."

"That I can do." Slithering back down your body, she pauses around halfway. Kissing the spot just below your belly button before looking up at you. You let out a groan of impatience that utterly amused the leader of the true knot.

"Tell me, Y/N." She started, using her forefinger to draw invisible shapes over your stomach. "Who do you belong to?"

You knew the answer she wanted. You also knew the correct answer. And then there was the one that would piss her off. "Not you,"

Rose sighed softly. "You best change that answer if you ever want this to happen again."

"Plenty of other options." You muse, smiling up at her. Rose watches for a moment and then with a firm nod, she starts to climb off you.

"If that's the case then," You grab her wrist before she can leave. Looking at her with sad eyes and a little pout.

"No- wait." You want to pull her back into bed. "I'm sorry but you can't just leave me like this."

"Oh, sweetie." She pats you softly on the cheek. "I think you'll find I can. Maybe think before you speak next time."

"Rose," You whine, squirming underneath her. "Please, baby. I want you."

"I almost forgot how much I like making you squirm." Rose chuckles playfully. "Do you ever beg for Crow?"

You shake your head. They were two very different people when it came to sex but both good. "He can probably hear you begging me to fuck you." She told you quietly. "All needy and wet for me."

You close your thighs, rubbing them together in an attempt for any kind of friction. Rose gently taps you on the nose, a stark contrast to how rough she was being earlier. "Stop that right now."

You do as you're told and she gets back between your thighs. Cries of pure pleasure ring out from your throat. You forgot how good she truly was but then again, maybe that was the steam talking. It always felt fantastic after steam. Either way, you didn't want it to end anytime soon and knowing Rose, it probably wouldn't.

Tired and a little sore, you wake up enveloped in Rose's arms. Running a hand clumsily over your face, you toss over and nuzzling against her chest. She felt warm and safe and you wanted nothing more than to drown in it. Rose squeezes you gently, a lazy kiss placed against your temple. “My good girl.” If you could live in this moment, you would. Your breathing evens out and you begin to drift back to sleep Maybe it wasn't so bad being Rose's girl... at least for now.

[diddlesanddoodles]

Dumpling ch. 17

(author’s notes: I’M NOT DEAD!)

Keral sent along his message to Hev the blacksmith informing him of Nenani’s need for a new marker with a servant who came to replenish the wine decanter and deliver a few papers and notes to Maevis. Once a fresh post of tea had been brewed and Keral’s wine glass filled, they got to work.

In no time at all, the number of books being taken down from the shelves were taking over the table and along with them came seemingly endless rolls of parchment upon which Maevis furiously scribbled as many notes and citations as his quill and ink could produce. Keral, for his role, thumbed through various books and whenever he came upon something, he slipped a small piece of parchment in the page and sat it before the magician. The library had taken on an air of solemnity.  

However, as was his nature, Jae did not much care for the weight of the room and did his best to keep the mood from sinking any further.  

“So a smoke mage,” he wondered aloud to to one in particular, lounging against a stack of books. “What makes a smoke mage so dangerous? Because by the name alone, I think the fellow may have drawn the short end of the magic stick.”

“No mage is inherently dangerous,” Barnaby said. “But we do not know this mage’s intentions and what we do know is that they are violent and not above meaningless killing.”  

He was on his second cup of tea and comfortably seated on a cushion close to where Maevis was working. After trying to aide in the research himself and suffering a slight dizzy spell, Maevis all but demanded that the old archivist sit and rest.  

“It won’t do to tire yourself, my friend,” the magician had told the human gently in an attempt to mask his worry. “Best rest a while.”

“I am fine,” Barnaby replied with a disregarding wave, but he still lowered himself onto the cushion nonetheless. “Just a bit over excited, mind you. I’ll be right as rain in a bit.”

“Not very nice t’be worryin’ old Meeves now,” Keral added. “He already frets over ya like a hen. Won’t be helpin’ ‘im much to be actin’ fragile, eh? Let us do the heavy liftin’ and if ya remember anything, we’ll write it down.”

Barnaby huffed mildly at being accused of acting fragile, but stayed put and did not refuse Jae when he handed him his tea. Nenani watched with confusion as the two giants worked and fussed and Jae fidgeted. She knew very little of magic and prior to meeting Maevis, she had never seen it used.  

“What’s a mage?” she asked.  

All at once, she became the focus of the room and she felt her face flush. Perhaps it had been a silly question.  

“Well,” Maevis began thoughtfully. “A mage is a person who uses magic.”

“Like the kind of magic you do?” she asked.  

“Not exactly,” he replied patiently. “I learned magic from studying it in books and from other magicians. A mage does not learn magic, they are born with it. Sometimes they are called Elementals, because a mage’s magic often times coincides with a particular element.”

“Like fire?” she asked. “Fire mages?”  

“Correct,” Maevis replied. “Though it is also important to note that while all Elementals are considered mages, not all mages are Elementals.”

Nenani made a face. “I...I don’t...huh?”

Keral laughed at her as he sat a book down. “Elementals are human, but one of us big folk could be a mage. We just wouldn’t be called an Elemental. Like that Bertol fellow.”

Now it was Maevis’s turn to make a face and Keral released a loud bark of a laugh.

“Oh, come now,” Keral replied. “Don’t y’know Bertol is the greatest prophet who ever lived?”

“Bertol the bumbling buffoon,” Maevis replied dryly, “Is as much a prophet as that tea pot over there and not nearly so useful. And only by the skin of his teeth does he have any right to claim himself a mage.”

Keral grinned, laughing. “Don’t care fer his ramblings either then? Hm. Neither does the King.”

“I would not blame King Warren if he should one day decide to place that idiot in the stockades and conveniently forget him.”  

“Who is Bertol?” Nenani asked, glancing between the two giants, feeling more confused than ever. Mages, Elementals, and now prophets?  

“Bertol is a Vhasshallan mage,” Maevis replied sourly. “He is thought by many in Vhasshal to hold the gift of foresight. That he can see the future and make predictions based upon his visions. He was the one responsible for the Gold prophecy.”

“Gold…?” she asked, trailing off.

“It’s why Warren’s called the Gold King,” Jae added before biting into a biscuit.  

Seeing her confusion, Keral reached for a book sitting on the edge of the table, a smallish black volume with gold lettering, and he flipped it open and began to read. His voice was even and mellow, but the words that sprouted from his lips brought with them a sickening sensation of her guts being pulled and ice dripping down her spine.

“The river runs uphill to the dying songs of the fall of fools and Kings that tear flesh from bone and the crown from the mountain. Water runs red with fire and shall rise when the old blood runs new. The flesh taken will be paid in blood and the dead walls will rise with gold.”

He closed the book with a snap and tilted his head down to regard Nenani with an open expression, but froze, brows drawing together, and he bent down. “Ya alright there lass? Yer a bit pale.”

In depths of her memory, she could feel the cool stone of the catacomb and see the empty hollows that once held eyes of those that had once been a person. Those voices chanting. Her dreams that played out in her mind every night. The smell of smoke, the screams of men dying as the fishing boats burned. A man in black, his face obscured by the skull of a stag. Her Uncle calling to her as he died.

And those words…

“...shall rise when the old blood runs new.”

She felt thick fingers wrap around her shoulders and Kerals voice broke through the fog of her mind. Abruptly she broke free and she was no longer within herself but back at the library. The scent of smoke and ash replaced by that of parchment and ink and tea. And Keral’s body odor.  

She met his eyes and was surprised to find her cheeks wet. “I...I don’t know...”

“Oi now, don’t go lettin’ them words scare ya. Yer alright,” he told her quietly. “Nothin’ to be upset about. They’re just words, remember. Besides, it already came to pass. Nothin’ to fear, eh?”

Barnaby and Jae were both studying her with a mixture of expressions from worried to bewildered. Now aware that everyone was intently focusing in on her, Nenani flushed and scrubbed at her cheeks in slight embankment. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

“You’ve had quite a day,” Maevis said, an air of suggestion in his tone. With a gloved hand, he waved behind towards the door just beyond the curtain. “Would you like to have a rest?”

“Best thing t’do would get ya back to th’ kitchens,” Keral added as he rubbed his chin in contemplation. “But if ya showed up without a marker, Farris would have a right apoplexy.”

“Yeah, Hev’s work is good,” said Jae. “But metal working takes time. And it’ll take most of the afternoon for Connor to do the detail work.”  

Nenani shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t need to rest. That poem, er – prophecy. I’ve heard it before, but I didn’t know it was a prophecy.”  

Maevis expression of concern shifted into mild disdain. “Yes, well. I wouldn’t put much weight nor worry to those words. The one responsible for that dribble has as much foresight as a week old turnip.”

“First a tea pot and now he’s a turnip,” Jae sniggered. “So which one is he?”

“What has that poor old buggar done to earn your ire, Meeves,” Keral asked. “Didn’t think you had it in ya t’hold a grudge. Even against someone deserving of it.”  

Maevis took a moment to take a long and slow breath, placing his folded hands atop the table, and seemed to collect himself.

“Anyone can string together phrases with grandiose words so vague as to be perfectly useless,” Maevis replied, his irritation smoothed over, but still there. “There are many who take themselves for grand prophets and mostly their predictions fall to deaf ears. Bertol has managed to convince people his words are true and by the God’s graces, I haven’t the foggiest inclination as to why they would listen to him, of all people.”

“He had good timing,” Keral offered in response. “Folks were looking for something to cling to. They'll cling to hope if they smell it. Makes ‘em desperate.”

“My meaning, precisely, Keral! Words have power when people make it so. Bertol’s words were hallow and meaningless. Just enough vague enough for opportunistic fiends to take advantage. They see themselves in his words and are convinced that they’re meant to grander things. Bertol’s words are reckless. And therefore, dangerous.”

…………………………………………….

“Tell me master Barnabas,” Keral said with surprise formality. He sat in the same chair, but his glass of wine had been replaced by a cup of tea by Maevis after the ranger had all but drained the pitcher all on his own. Beside him stood a small stack of books. Maevis held his own cup and nursed it. Beside him sat a much more impressive amass of books and tomes.

They had paused their research for a break and Barnaby was looking over the slate he had given to Nenani to draw on, showing her how to hold the chalk and how to use the lines to create an image. Keral had been watching them with an enigmatic expression, though Nenani tried not to let it bother her. Keral had managed to subvert her expectations of what kind of a person he was, but there were occasions she had caught glimpses of something else.

Something that she could not help but feel nervous about. But no one else seemed at all concerned, so Nenani decided she was just being silly.

At hearing his name, Barnaby looked to Keral inquisitively and the ranger continued. “How common was red hair in Silvaara?”

The question was odd. Odd enough to catch the room by surprise and then as a consequence, all eyes turned to Nenani. The only one of them with red hair.  

Feeling the weight of their curious eyes, she shrank away from their peering gazes. “What?”

Barnaby turned back to Keral, perplexed. “Not too common. Black or brown is more common, such as young master Jae. I myself had brown hair. When I was young. And had hair. Why?”

“What about the highborns?” Keral asked. “Nobles and the like?”  

Barnaby’s eyed widened as understanding struck him. “Oh. Well, red was much more common. A genetic consequence of the blood purity obsession that took over the last decades. Though it was wildly held as truth that those with red hair were born of fire and were more likely to hold the Flower’s blessing.”

Jae watched with mild curiosity and then laughed, eyeing Keral skeptically. “What? You think Nenani’ might be a long lost highborn?”

Keral shrugged. “I get curious. The Hill tribes are all brown and black haired save for the last one Farris picked up from Dornbey. Poor sod had quite the reception when I delivered ‘im to Gregis. It was all m’lord this and m’lord that. Practically swarmed th’fellow. He was already outta his head. Poor bastard.”

“Well,” Barnaby continued, glancing at Nenani. “That was one subject I had hoped to broach with you dear. As Jae may have explained, I am an archivist and I write histories. Whenever a human comes to live here on castle grounds I write down their histories. To persevere what little of Silvaara remains. And after your first visit and all that transpired, I had quite forgotten to ask you about who your parents were as I did not want to upset you any further. And Keral has made a fine point. Your hair color tells me I may be able to find your family history if you can tell me your family name.”

“Family name?” Nenani asked, thinking back. “I don’t think we have one...”

“Oh, nonsense,” Barnaby replied. “Everyone has a family name. We’ll start with your father, then. What was his name? Many families passed down names to the first born sons. I might be able to trace you to a particular family.”

“That’s how I got my name.” Jae added in.

“Hayron,” Nenani said. “Papa’s name was Hayron.”  

Barnaby, who had taken up a quill and spare parchment to take notes, paused and he peeked over the top of the parchment with raised eyebrows. “Hayron, you said?”

Nenani nodded. “Yes. My Uncle’s name was Halden.”  

He placed the the quill and parchment on his lap and seemed to consider her for a moment as though seeking something in her face. After a long moment, he asked “And you’re mother?”

His tone was quiet and almost...seeking?

“Oira.”  

The longing look in his eyes dissipated and he nodded. Almost sadly, as though he was disappointed in her answer. “Oira. Hm. I do not know that name. But I do remember Haryon.”  

Nenani blinked. “Huh? You knew Papa?”

“And Halden in some respects, though I cannot recall ever speaking to him very much. He took his duties quite seriously, if I’m remembering correctly. They were junior members of the Thorn Guard.”

“Yes!” Nenani exclaimed excitedly. “He told he once that he was in the Thorn Guard. But I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh, whoa. Thorn guards?” She heard Jae whistle and glanced back at him to find her fellow human grinning. Behind him, Keral was expressionless, but his eyes were sharp and focused and she knew his interest had been peaked.  

“Hayron is an old name that is fairly common among the Thorn Guard families. However, I only knew one Hayron with a brother named Halden. They were the sons of Captain Hayier.”

Nenani was quiet a moment. “I remember his sword. It had thrones on it. The one they think killed him.”

Barnaby’s eyes turned sad and empathetic and he sighed. “Your father was a good man. Dedicated to his duty and family. All sons of Thorn Guards were under immense pressure to perform and live up to expectations. Competition for high ranks was fierce and even being the son of the captain was not a guarantee of a rank. He earned his mark. As did his brother. I am sorry to know that fate was not so kind to him in the end.”  

“So would that make her a Daelg?” Keral asked suddenly. “Or was it Daeleg? I was never much for studying all them Silvaaran Houses.”  

“You had it correct, sir. It is Daelg. Unless there was another pair of brothers named Hayron and Halden in the Thorn Guard,” the archivist replied with a grin. “I would be most confident that you’re family name is Daelg.”  

The name did not stir any memories and it felt foreign and odd. However, she was not nearly as curious in regards to the name as the revelation that Barnaby had known her father. She had questions now. So many questions. But mostly, she just wanted to know him more. It seemed forever ago that he died. A whole world away in another time. Another life even.  

“So, she is highborn?” Jae asked, glancing between Barnaby and Nenani. “I don’t have to start calling her m’lady do I?”

Keral snorted into his drink and turned away to cough into his elbow.  

“No, the Thorn Guards were not nobility,” Barnaby replied, amused. “They were in a caste all their own. Above merchants and below Nobles. Once upon a time, marriage between them and highborns was permitted, but it was almost always for a financial gain or the belief that the two would produce exceptional progeny. However it fell out of favor decades prior to the war and in someways expressly forbidden in the name of blood purity. The King and therefore his court were all obsessed with the idea of pure blood. The more pure the line, the higher chance that they would produce a mage of fire.”

“Fire Mages.” Keral added with a final and disdainful cough to clear the tea from his lungs. “Crazy bunch of inbreds.”  

“So,” Jae asked. “Speaking of Mages and all that. What exactly is a smoke mage, then? If that’s what you think might be skulking around the countryside killing Vhasshalans.”  

“It is an ancient variety of deviant magic. So rare, there does not seem to be any contemporary sources ever describing the existence of one,” Barnaby replied. “But when I was a lad, I was told that a smoke mage is a fire mage that sinned so greatly that the Gods stripped them of their blessing and their fire and leaving only the smoldering ruin of a person. Cursed to wander the world, creating chaos, and suffering in their wake.”

“Well,” Keral said, standing and stretching out his back. “Smoke mage or not, I’ll be needin’ more to work with than an old folk tale. I appreciate your help lads, but until we know more, the only thing to be done is to be out there scoutin’ and reportin’.”  

“You’re going back out?” Jae asked. “You just got back.”

“Not tonight. I’ll be with the boys organizing the routes first. First light tomorrow, perhaps,” Keral regarded the boy with a lopsided grin. “Why? D’ya miss me when I ain’t here to hold yer hand, lad?”

Jae glared at the giant. “No.”

“Yer welcome t’use my room when I’m out if ya be needin’ a place to hold up,” Keral said. “Beats sleepin’ in them moldy tunnels.”

Jae glowered, his cheeks flushed. “No thanks. Your room smells like armpits. Besides, I like the tunnels. You bastards can’t go in after me.”

“Young master Jae,” Barnaby snapped indignantly. “I cannot condone such language. Least of all when a young lady is present.”

“It always amazed me how that for a King’s ward,” Maevis observed with a suppressed grin. “Your decorum lessons never have seemed to find proper purchase.”  

“Warren does not keep me around to lick his boot,” Jae quipped with a shrug. “He’s got advisers and the court for that.”

Keral laughed. “Ah, well if ya changed yer mind about the room, the offer stands. Y’know the way in.”

The ranger gave his made his excuses and an apology to Maevis’s for leaving him with all the books to put away, but the magician wave him off.  

“Nonsense. You never put them back in their proper place when you do feel inclined to return them, so it matters not. I know you have your duties to perform and would hate to keep you from them. I will let you know if I find anything that might be of use.”  

With a grin and a wave, the ranger was gone.