#someone please come and knock wills lights out the entire youre not a good knight talk was so unnecessary

[confusedbutwarm]

I'm making new art as we speak (im horrified)

there is a lot to unpack here

[tennessoui]

obikin 28,11 :3

kit to kit: oh, 28, knocking on the wrong door, that can be a cute modern quirky au

kit to kit: yeah totally sure !!! you know what it could also be? 4.2k of dark canon AU that is dub con due to identity issues that definitely ends with anakin tied to a bed with future plans of stockholm syndroming him!!!

(so read at your own risk here this is definitely on the darker side of these prompt fills)

28. Knocking On The Wrong Right Wrong Door AU (4.2k)

The storm’s picked up to dangerous levels by the time Anakin and his padawan have picked their way out of the smoking rubble of their ship and made it into the nearby town.

“Think of it this way!” Anakin yells over the howl of the wind. “The rain’ll put out the rest of the fire!”

The look Ahsoka gives him is cold enough to freeze the rain that’s pelting down on them.

“I hope Master Windu grounds you for destroying another one of the Temple’s ships,” she snips at him, looking deeply unimpressed with his dramatic expression of hurt and betrayal.

“No one keeps count of that stuff, Snips,” Anakin grins. “And anyway, if I get grounded, you’d definitely be grounded with me. As my Padawan.”

“I’d be promoted, actually. They’d knight me on the spot the first time I come back with all my ships intact.”

Anakin rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a crack of thunder loud enough to shake him to his bones and a seriously bright flash of lightning that connects with a wind-swept tree next to them.

“Shelter!” Anakin yells over the renewed rain. “Come on, Ahsoka!”

The town is small, but there has to be some sort of hotel or lodge or--

“We don’t have any credits, Master!” Ahsoka cries, running after him.

She’s right. All their funds were in their ship, and neither of them had thought to grab them.

Kriff it all.

He changes course as soon as they get to the outskirts of the village.

He pounds on the door of the first cottage they come across. Either no one’s in or they’re particularly unfriendly, because the door stays firmly shut.

He hits the wood harder, setting up a constant rhythm. In a second, they’ll run to the next house, but there’s something about this place that feels right. Surely if only Anakin could knock loud enough to be heard over the storm--

The door cracks open and warm yellow light spills out over the doorstep.

“What?” The man asks stiffly. Anakin can only see a sliver of his face--one blue eye, dark red hair, and a beard.

“Good evening,” Anakin says, putting on his best Jedi voice. “I am seeking shelter from the storm for myself and my companion. We--”

“There’s an inn next to the school in town. Goodnight.”

Anakin wedges his foot in just before the man can close the door. “Please sir, we don’t have any credits--”

“Unfortunate. Goodnight.”

“Please, sir. My name is Anakin Skywalker. I am a General in the War. Shelter us tonight and the Jedi Order will see you repaid in full!”

The man pauses and looks him up and down slowly. The door opens a little wider. “Skywalker?” He asks, sounding suspicious.

Anakin nods eagerly. He doesn’t particularly like dropping his name like that, especially not on strange planets, but he needs to get his Padawan out of the storm. “Anakin, yes. We won’t hurt you or anything, sir. I swear.”

“Come on, Anakin,” Ahsoka says from behind him. “Let’s just go somewhere else. Someone else will let us in.”

The man tears his gaze away from Anakin, the first time he’s done so this entire time, and looks over Ahsoka as well. He opens the door even farther. “I’ll let you in,” he decides and Anakin has to fight the loud sigh of relief. “But I would like you to give me your weapons for the night, please.”

The man looks back to Anakin with a smile. It changes the lines of his face, softens them until the man looks pleasant instead of harsh. He has a nice smile. He has a really, really nice smile.

“No--” Ahsoka starts to say, sounding offended, but Anakin, still dazed by the flash of the man’s teeth, is already saying, “Yeah, of course. Here you go,” and giving his lightsaber to the man as soon as he opens the door all the way.

“Thank you, Anakin,” the man replies with another one of those smiles. Anakin can feel his face heat up at the way his name sounds rolling off this man’s tongue. “And thank you, young one,” he says when Ahsoka reluctantly thrusts her own lightsabers towards him.

“I’m not young,” Ahsoka takes great offense and the man looks apologetic.

“‘Soka,” Anakin reprimands immediately. “Don’t be rude.”

She stares at him in astonishment. He doesn’t tend to correct her that harshly, even when she’s been snippier to foreign dignitaries. But the man doesn’t deserve an attitude from either of them. He’s letting them stay in his house! He’s gorgeous! He’s going to house them out of his own generosity for the night! He’s very, very fit!

“The sitting room is just down the hall and to the right,” the man says, with a tilt of his head. Anakin obediently pulls Ahsoka along. “I’ll just go grab you some dry clothes to change into.”

Behind him he hears the man lock the door. That’s good. Safety is important and he obviously seems a little paranoid. It’s now Anakin’s full time mission to make sure the man knows he can trust him. Them.

Them.

“I have a really bad feeling about this, Anakin,” Ahsoka hisses as he practically shoves her down the hallway and into the sitting room, which looks nice and cozy. There’s a couch and everything, with a Holo projector balanced on an old looking low table.

“I’m feeling much better about this than about our odds in that storm,” Anakin argues back in an undertone. There are footsteps above them, so the man’s bedroom must be on the second floor. Anakin wonders what it looks like, and Ahsoka seems to catch on with where his thoughts are because she hits him on the shoulder.

“You’d know what I’m talking about if you were thinking with your brain instead of your lightsaber, Master.”

He opens his mouth to tell her how rude that is and also how very wrong, as Anakin can think with both, thank you very much, but the man appears in the room with them before he has a chance to.

“They won’t fit, obviously,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as if he’s embarrassed to have surprise guests in his house and not have their correct sizes in his closet. “But anything’s better than what you’re wearing now, I thought.”

“Yeah!” Anakin says eagerly. Ahsoka gives him an unimpressed look, crossing her arms. “I mean,” he coughs. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

The redhead gifts Anakin another one of his smiles. This one makes his blue eyes crinkle, which just might end up being his cause of death. Enshrine him in the Jedi Temple and at the plaque on his fee put “Here Lies Anakin Skywalker: Dead Because An Attractive Stranger Treated Him With Human Decency”.

His padawan rolls her eyes and takes her proffered stack of clothes. The man shows her where the fresher is and she stalks into it.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin apologizes immediately when the man turns to look at him with a lost look. “She’s just mad at me for crashing our ship. We were flying fine one minute and the next we have to make this emergency landing that turns out to be a bit--hard on the landing. And….you didn’t ask, did you? Kark. Sorry.”

The man smiles again with an amused shake of his head. “It’s alright, Anakin, I was wondering anyway.” He holds out the clothes for Anakin to change into and Anakin grabs them because it’s something to do that isn’t keel over from embarrassment.

Or, of course, kneel down to show this stranger how much he appreciates his kindness.

Anakin wills that thought--and it’s gorgeous mental image--away. He just hasn’t had sex in a while, not since he and Padme had gotten divorced. Usually, he needs that intimate connection with someone before he even thinks about sex, but maybe when he’s too horny it doesn’t matter anymore? Because he doesn’t even know this man’s name, but when their hands brush as he receives the stack of clothes, he feels as though the lightning from outside is shooting down his spine.

“Um.” He says, like the intelligent war general he is.

Has the man moved closer? Are his eyes dark or is it just the lighting? Is he interested in men? Is he interested in Anakin? Also, what is his kriffing name?

Anakin glances down at the clothes, preparing to ask at least one of those questions, before he realizes something. “There’s no shirt here?” He asks instead of anything much more pressing.

The man’s eyes widen and a blush spreads across his cheeks. “Oh, blast,” he mumbles, already turning to leave. “I’ll go grab you one, I’m sorry, I knew I forgot something.”

Anakin finds himself feeling hopelessly endeared by the man’s awkward flailing. He wonders if he’s managed to fluster the man. The idea feels amazing in his mind.

Grinning to himself, he starts shucking off his wet clothes. He can at least change into the pants while he waits for the man to come back, and if his timing is right---

He’s tying the loose pants tight around his waist when he hears footsteps in the hall.

Yes.

He turns around, shirtless, to glance at the man in the doorway, who’s stopped to stare at Anakin.

Anakin tries not to preen too obviously. Jedi training has done ridiculous things to the muscles of his back and chest, and he wants the man to look. To appreciate. To want.

And the man looks like he does. The man looks like he wants a lot.

There’s something dark and dangerous and wild and unrestrained in those eyes. Anakin wants closer.

He drops his shoulder and turns to face the man completely, letting him look his full. His gaze feels like a brand on every part of Anakin it touches. His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt he’s holding when Anakin stretches his arms above his head as he yawns in a pathetically fake manner.

The man takes a couple of steps forward and Anakin stills in anticipation. He had thought he’d looked beautiful smiling, but this--this naked, dangerous want for Anakin that clouds his face--is so much more attractive. It would take one word from the man and he’d be on his knees. His back. His front. He’s not picky, he’s too busy feeling like his whole body is a live wire.

The door opens and Ahsoka’s deeply unimpressed tone effectively snaps the tension in the room. “What are you doing.”

“Getting dressed!” Anakin yelps, taking the shirt the man extends to him and putting it on immediately.

The man sends Ahsoka an unreadable but dark look before blinking a few times and smiling at her. Whatever had been on his face is gone and Anakin can’t help but think that he must have imagined it.

“Please, sit. Are you hungry?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. “Fixing you two a meal would be the least I can do for the galaxy’s heroes.”

Anakin flushes and preens as he follows the direction, the man’s praise wrapping like a warm blanket around his mind.

Ahsoka is less taken in, even as she settles in on the couch next to Anakin. “You could tell us your name,” she says, arms crossed. The look is ruined by the way the gray tunic the man has given to her is big enough to fall off one of her shoulders.

The man freezes for a second, barely noticeable if Anakin was not watching him as intently as he is. Then the stranger’s shoulders droop for a second and he looks so sad that actually Anakin doesn’t care if he never learns the man’s name. He’ll call him Dear for the rest of his life.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the man eventually murmurs, sitting delicately on the arm of the comfortable looking chair and giving them a half-sort of smile. “At your service.”

Anakin’s eyes narrow at the name that feels like it should be familiar. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. It’s pretty. He likes it.

Ahsoka jumps to her feet. “Obi-Wan Kenobi!” she says and turns to Anakin as if that’s supposed to mean something to him. He blinks up at her in confusion. “You’re the Jedi that Fell after Qui-Gon Jinn died!”

Anakin rises immediately, brain trying to process this new information. Yes. Yeah. Obi-Wan Kenobi. They’d met. They’d met on Tatooine. Kenobi had been Qui-Gon’s padawan. He’d killed Maul after Maul killed Qui-Gon. And then...he’d left the Order. Anakin had been assigned another Master. He’d forgotten all about Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“I didn’t Fall,” Obi-Wan Kenobi corrects from his place on the chair. “Please, sit down.”

“You left the Order with Dooku!” Ahsoka accuses. “And you’re trying to tell me you didn’t Fall?”

Anakin’s hand goes to his belt automatically, but he doesn’t have his lightsaber. He’d given it to Obi-Wan.

“Look at my eyes, young one,” Obi-Wan demands in a cold tone. “Are they Sith-gold?”

Anakin hesitates. Obi-Wan has a point. His eyes are blue. And surely they’d know if there was another Sith afoot in the galaxy. Sith don’t like keeping quiet about themselves, from everything Anakin’s learned about them.

“You’re old enough to know how to hide that,” Ahsoka challenges immediately, which makes Obi-Wan wince.

“You don’t pull your punches, do you?” He asks with a forced laugh. Then he looks at Anakin, and his face turns pleading. “Anakin,” he says gently, slowly, Ah-na-kin, “I’m not lying. Please believe me. I--I didn’t leave the Order to join the Sith. I left because they wouldn’t allow me to train you, Anakin.”

Anakin feels like the shipwreck from an hour ago caused less whiplash than these few sentences. “Me?”

“Qui-Gon begged me to train you as he lay dying in my arms,” Obi-Wan’s jaw clenches and his face looks sad again. He closes his eyes as if to ward off the memory and when he opens them again they look wet. “When they wouldn’t allow me to, I realized there was nothing in the Order left for me. Dooku, my master’s master, came to me and asked me to leave with him. I had no idea that he would Fall. As soon as I realized what he had become, I ran. That’s why I’m here, Anakin. Please believe me. I have no involvement in the war, on either side.”

Force help him, but he does. He does believe him. He looks so honest, so heartbroken. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi? He can’t really say he remembers enough about what Kenobi had looked like all those years ago to know if the man in front of him could be an older version of the Padawan he’d met. He doesn’t actually remember anything about Kenobi, except--

“Hey, wait a second, you called me a pathetic lifeform!” Anakin says indignantly, a nine-year-old’s rage welling up in him at the memory.

Obi-Wan blinks at him and then bursts into laughter. It sounds like rocks, sliding into the ocean. Sith don’t laugh like that. He can’t imagine Ventress laughing like that. Or laughing at all, aside from a sinister chuckle.

Obi-Wan wipes the wetness from his eyes and grins at Anakin. “I’d forgotten about that,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Anakin pouts. “I was standing right there.”

“Making moon-eyes at Queen Amidala, yes,” Obi-Wan raises a sardonic eyebrow. “I thought you were sufficiently distracted. She was quite prettier.”

Anakin’s first instinct is to say, I’m prettier, but that’s not actually appropriate, and maybe Obi-Wan wouldn’t agree with him anyway.

“Do you believe me, Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan asks, turning to her while Anakin is working on controlling his flushed face.

Anakin’s padawan is still standing, but looks unsure. “I...I don’t know.”

“Then we can talk more about it over a cup of tea,” Obi-Wan decides, standing up. “I’ll be back in a second.”

As he walks past the couch to get through a door that must lead to his kitchen, he brushes his hand along Anakin’s shoulder and neck.

Anakin would like to say he handles this touch with grace and aplomb as befitting a Jedi Knight, but the look Ahsoka gives him makes him feel much more like a pathetic lifeform than a Jedi Knight.

“We can trust him,” Anakin mutters to her. “I remember him.”

“It’s been years, Anakin,” Ahsoka mutters back. “Even if you remember everything he’s ever said to you, he could be a completely different person. He probably is.”

“It’s just a night, Snips,” he reasons. “And there’s no alternatives. And I think we can trust him.”

She hesitates for a second and then exhales. “Fine,” she agrees. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Anakin grins in response.

----

Halfway through tea, Ahsoka starts nodding off.

“Crash landing takes a lot out of anyone,” Obi-Wan says sympathetically with a wink at Anakin, who puffs up in indignation. Before he can say anything in defense of his very necessary landing, Obi-Wan has taken Ahsoka’s tea and put it gently on the table. “Come on, girl, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. I have a spare room.”

Ahsoka goes easily enough, in a way that makes Anakin feel bad for how short-tempered he’s been with her in the past few hours. He’s been stressed, she’s been stressed, but she’s just a youngling still. She’s probably been exhausted for so long now.

“Could you put our cups in the sink, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks as he leads the Togruta out of the sitting area.

Anakin complies immediately, carrying each mug like they’re something special and precious before dumping out the contents into the sink and filling each with water.

He thinks about washing them and putting them into cupboards, but he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to think that’s he’s rifling through his cupboards or anything, so he goes back to the living room to wait for him.

Obi-Wan returns just a few seconds later, smiling slightly to himself.

“What?” Anakin asks immediately. If there’s a joke that Obi-Wan finds funny, Anakin wants to hear it too.

“Just something Ahsoka said,” he replies, looking fondly down at Anakin.

Anakin’s feeling too persistent to be sidetracked by that though, so he raises both his eyebrows.

“That she’d skewer me on her lightsabers if I besmirched her master’s honor, no matter how much he asks for it,” Obi-Wan recalls with a perfectly straight face.

Anakin buries his blushing face in his hands instantly. “Force,” he mumbles.

Obi-Wan laughs again. It’s just as pretty as last time and it makes Anakin peek through his fingers.

“It’s alright, Anakin,” Obi-Wan soothes. “I told her I thought I would be quite good at resisting any sort of begging from you.”

Anakin’s first thought is, of course, Want to bet?, but that’s hardly a thing to say to a near stranger. Even if he is very handsome and he has looked at you like you’re a feast and he’s a starving man just a few hours ago.

No, Anakin. Bad Anakin.

“So that’s me for the couch then, yeah?” He says in a totally normal and not at all high-pitched voice, standing so he can go fetch a blanket.

The look in Obi-Wan’s eyes freezes him where he is. They’re filled with that same dark want from before paired with a promise. “If you’d like,” Obi-Wan murmurs and then just to make sure there’s no confusion, he holds out his hand. “Or….”

Anakin doesn’t even have to think about it before he’s interlacing their fingers.

-----

When Anakin comes to, there’s light streaming in through the windows in Obi-Wan’s bedroom. He grumbles and tries to roll over.

He can’t.

Both of his arms have been securely tied over his head, and there’s a gag in his mouth.

Really, his first instinct should be panic and not a sort of sleepy arousal at what Obi-Wan plans to do with him like this.

But no. The panic doesn’t set in until he sees Obi-Wan by the window, deathstick held between his lips as he listens to a holocall.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan murmurs, exhaling a line of smoke out the window before turning to look at Anakin. He nods his head in greeting, as if this is a normal scenario. “Yes, he’s just woken up.”

When he turns his head back to the window, the yellow of his eyes catch on the sunlight and gleam bright gold.

“The padawan has been dealt with,” Obi-Wan continues, which makes Anakin lose any sense of calm he still felt. He’s cut off from the Force so he can’t feel his bond with Ahsoka. Fear and fury wash through him equally at the thought of Obi-Wan, this Sith lord traitor and dirty liar, dealing with Ahsoka.

Oh Force, she’d been right. She’d been so right. Had she paid the cost for Anakin’s blindness?

“Yes, Master. Tell Sidious he can expect his Chosen One kneeling before him in chains as soon as he deposits the credits into my account. I’ve sent multiple pictures already as proof that Anakin Skywalker is alive and bound.”

Anakin tries to yell through the gag, but it’s ineffective and only causes Obi-Wan to look at him with an amused eyebrow raise. “And awake,” the Sith traitor purrs into the comm. “Must go now. Remember, Dooku. My credits.”

With that, he ends the comm and stubs out his deathstick with a flourish, walking around to stand at the foot of the bed with all the grace of a predator who knows its prey is well and truly cornered.

“Good morning, darling,” Obi-Wan croons. “Sorry you had to hear that.”

Anakin glowers at him. He’s never hated anyone more than he hates Obi-Wan Kenobi at this moment.

“Your padawan is safe,” Obi-Wan starts, sitting on the bed by Anakin’s midsection and tracing a hand down his bare chest. Anakin twitches away from him. “No, really,” the Sith promises in a soothing voice. “I drugged her last night of course, but you have to admit she looked like she needed a full night’s sleep.”

The tea. Force, the tea. If Anakin had thought to check the tea, or to follow Obi-Wan into the kitchen and watch him make it, they wouldn’t be here in this position. He wouldn’t be here in this specific position. Force.

“And this morning while you slept, I carried her out to my ship--or Dooku’s ship, I suppose--and put her on route to the Jedi Temple. She’ll arrive in a day or so, probably. I even gave her food and drink to survive comfortably until then. There’s no need to worry.”

Anakin tries to convey the level of disbelief he has for that statement in a single glare. Obi-Wan shrugs languidly, hand still touching his skin in a way he’d enjoyed last night. His body hasn’t gotten the notice that it shouldn’t enjoy Obi-Wan’s touch anymore, which is making this whole bound and gagged thing really awkward.

“Well, for her, I suppose.” Obi-Wan chuckles and pulls his hand away so he can light another deathstick. He takes a drag and then exhales. “I’ll even let you comm her. It’s actually quite important that you do. You see, I told her that I would kill you if she tried to come back here without first going to the Temple. She seemed to believe me.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, as if they’re sharing a joke at Ahsoka’s expense.

“Like I’d kill you,” Obi-Wan huffs a laugh, shaking his head and bringing the deathstick back to his mouth. “I told her I’d let you comm her the second she lands. Of course, she will be surrounded by Jedi masters, who will be very interested in hearing my proposed trade deal, even if she isn’t. I will give them the name of Darth Sidious, my master’s master. I will give them proof enough to end the war and have him arrested and tried for his crimes. And they will give me you.”

Anakin feels his eyes widen at the words. It’s so unexpected that even if he weren’t gagged, he wouldn’t be able to think of a single thing to say.

“It’s perfect, really,” Obi-Wan murmurs, a hand coming up to stroke through Anakin’s hair. “Sidious thinks he is about to get his hands on you, as that has been the plan for weeks now. He has paid good money for you, you know. I almost feel bad for deciding to break our agreement. But you just fell apart so beautifully under my hands last night, darling. How can I give you up?”

Anakin shivers as the memory of last night washes over his mind. He’s never felt more ashamed and yet still guiltily pleased with his performance. The praise he's getting. Force it feels good to be praised.

“So Sidious thinks he will get you, the Jedi will get Sidious, Ahsoka will probably get knighted, and you will be where you belong,” Obi-Wan blows out smoke and then leans down to grin into Anakin’s face. Anakin has to tell himself not to look away. Those yellow eyes are filled with a recognizable lust. It had been so attractive last night. It’s still attractive now, if he’s being completely honest. Force, what is wrong with him?

Obi-Wan’s hand leaves his hair to press delicately on a new bruise on his throat. “You will be with me.”

[starlightinhumanform]

Friday Night Lights: Chapter Two

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Sleepxiety 

Summary: Roman and Virgil play opposite positions on their rival high school football teams. It’s the Homecoming game and tensions are high. Neither are willing to lose but one must rise above the other...

Warnings: Descriptions of pain/injury, Moderate language, One mention of drinking (Please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff 

A/N: Well... nearly a year since the first chapter came out I’m finally writing again!!! I really love this AU (even though I know very little about football lmao) and I have a lot of ideas about how I would like to include more Sanders Sides characters into this world. If I can get some more of my unfinished fics done, I really want to expand this series. Until then, I hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Chapter One   Ao3   Fic Masterpost   Fic Request Info

The first play passed by in a blink. Most of the guys at the front went down quickly, even the largest crumpling under Prince and his brigade. Somehow in the chaos, the ball had been passed to Remy instead of Virgil and the fullback was tackled to the ground.

Virgil rolled his eyes at Remy as the team fell back into formation, only a few feet forward from where they had begun, “Dude, why’d the fuck did it get passed to you? It’s not like a knucklehead like you would know what to do with it.”

Remy huffed a laugh in response, “I have no clue. I’ll make sure it gets to you this time… hopefully.”

He glanced over in the direction that Remy was grimacing. It was Prince, of course, lumbering toward his position with what seemed to Virgil to be nothing but brutish arrogance. Roman acted like the entire game was about him; he acted like it was West Shore Vs Roman instead of West Shore Vs Knights. He probably didn’t even care about the game— it was all about showing off.

Crouched in the back of the formation, it was hard to see anyone at the front but he could picture Roman, somehow managing to smirk behind his mouthguard. Virgil hoped that Remy would rub his face in the turf.

—————————————-

Roman prepared for the second down, glad to see that the jock in front of him wasn’t looking nearly as confident as he had at the first down. Knocking someone to the ground always seemed to do the trick.

The ball was hurled straight back to Tempeste and the bitch who had growled at him earlier didn’t even try to block Roman. Good. All that was left between him and the weird little halfback was Remy Ristretto.

Roman tried to steady himself before the expected slam, but Ristretto’s tackle hit him low in the stomach, managing to knock him off balance. From the ground, he could just barely see the purple form of Tempeste weaving down the field and avoiding every single one of the Monarch Knight’s defense.

Roman tried to throw off the weight of the boy on his back but found himself thoroughly pinned down. His mouth was filled with the taste of plastic turf and dusty rubber and almost the entirety of his vision was blocked by the grape juice flavoured uniform on top of him. It was humiliating. And Tempeste was still running, reaching the end zone without being touched by a single Knight. It was like his feet didn’t even touch the ground, flying across the field.

The West Shore team were given the chance to make a field goal, and made it, but Roman hardly noticed. He was too busy grumbling about how he was going to get back at Tempeste the second he got the chance.

—————————————-

By halftime, Virgil felt like he had been driven over by a steamroller. Multiple times. A steamroller covered in baseball bats.

As the marching band paraded past where Virgil was sitting, he wondered vaguely about the operability of a steamroller that had baseball bats attached to it. Maybe the hit he had taken to the head earlier in the game had been harder than he thought.

Remy sat down besides him, “What’s going on in that big old head of yours?”

“Uhhhhh, a lot of cartoon gong sound effects. Now that I think about it, that might just be the band.”

Virgil looked out across the field as the marching band made their final pass around the turf. The sky was completely dark by now but the stadium glowed bright as day under the huge lights. It was always wonderfully surreal to Virgil, the time of night when the field became its own little world still holding onto the glory of day. He hoped glory was still how he felt about this field by the end of the game. The alternative would be shame; the alternative would be defeat.

And defeat was not an option for a game right before homecoming. It’s not that Virgil particularly cared about the school dances, quite the opposite in fact, he hated them. They were crowded, noisy, and you had to wear uncomfortable clothes and stand around with a bunch of people you don’t like instead of being at home watching scary movies and eating pizza in your pajamas. But there’s only one thing worse than going to a school dance— going to the a school dance after losing the biggest game of the season.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Remy’s voice broke through Virgil’s thoughts, “Well stop it. We’re ahead of the Knights—“

“Barely.”

“—you’ve made some great runs so far—“

“I’ve gotten blocked plenty of times too.”

“—and you’re always at your best in the second half of the game. Now stop putting all your energy towards making the little hamster wheel in your brain turn faster and go use it on the field. C’mon man, the third quarter is about to start.”

Virgil shook his head as if to dislodge the distracting thoughts, letting his purple bangs fall in front of his face for a moment before brushing them back and putting his helmet on. Remy was right. Virgil had started football as a way to channel his anxiety, not to cause himself more. He just needed to get on that field and start running.

He jumped up and started bouncing on his feet, letting the adrenaline flow through his body until it felt like he was buzzing. Virgil was ready to win.

—————————————-

Roman was ready to win.

He could feel it boiling in stomach, the drive, the push to alway be the best. The teams had been neck-and-neck the entire game but West Shore’s grape-coloured menace had managed to scrape by with a slight lead by the end of the second quarter. Roman had no idea how Tempeste could even run that fast; he had short little legs and was about as delicate as a twig. Maybe West Shore just hooked him up to a car battery and gave him 20 energy drinks before every game.

However they made it happen, the kid could run. He didn’t look like he belonged on a football team, more like a trackstar or even a dancer. Roman knew he looked like a football player— tall, with broad shoulders and a thick waist, his extra weight part of what made him such a good defense. But Tempeste... he was like no player Roman had ever seen. Maybe that’s why Roman couldn’t beat him like any other player.

As the teams fell into formation, Roman looked across the row of helmets and accidentally made eye contact with Virgil. His stare burned with intensity. Roman hated to admit it, but he liked that about the rival school’s halfback, the feverish energy that seemed to storm around him. In fact, if Roman was being really honest, he loved playing against the West Shore because he loved playing against Tempeste. The energy was infectious. Playing against him made Roman want to run faster, hit harder, be better.

Roman smiled behind the mouthguard that rested on his bottom teeth. Maybe he did know how to beat Virgil; maybe he had to be just as crazy and vicious as his opponent.

—————————————-

Virgil knew what it felt like to get tackled. In his high school career he had gotten jumped on top and thrown to the ground by various sweaty, muscly dudes more times than he could ever dream of counting or would ever care to. He had been dragged to the ground, sat on, and pushed over from every angle and in every way.

But he had never, never felt a tackle like Roman’s in the beginning of the third quarter of that game.

He saw it coming, practically in slow motion, before Prince actually hit him. The boy’s shoulders were nearly twice as big as Virgil’s even with all his gear. He came charging towards Virgil head-down like a bull, his bright red helmet set with a direct trajectory to Virgil’s solar plexus.

Virgil tried to sidestep, skirting just past the moving wall of Roman Prince, but somehow Roman was moving simply too fast. The impact struck just at his core and a deep kind of pain, like a bruise that goes all the way to the bone, resonated outwards through his entire body. A vibration ran all the way to his fingertips.

Virgil could see the crowd going wild, booing and cheering and maybe just screaming with no inflection, making noise for the hell of it. He couldn’t hear any of it. Maybe the entire world had been put on mute or maybe the ringing in his ears was drowning it out.

He fell backwards and Roman flew over him, momentum carrying him forward. When he landed— and boy, did he land— he fell on directly onto Virgil’s chest. Virgil thought Roman had knocked the wind out of him by hitting him in the sternum. By landing flat on his chest with the entire bulk of his body, Roman found another ounce of breath left in Virgil’s body to shock out of him.

His vision and hearing tunneled out, focusing on the one thing capturing his entire attention: Roman. The boy on top of him was heavy, crushing Virgil through his thick shoulder pads. The heat of Prince’s body spread through his gear as well, although, based on the sweat damping his hairline, Virgil really wasn’t one to talk.

Roman was strong, stronger than him. Virgil tried to squirm away but he could feel Prince throwing his weight downwards and his arms straining to keep Virgil caged to the ground.

Just as intense as his physical strength, Prince’s eyes seemed to burn. Before, they always seemed to be depthless, simply dark and brutish like a bear. Now, breathlessly close, there seemed to be a light behind them, a thousand times brighter than the stadium lights. Gold tones shining through the dark brown of his eyes. It was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen. It was also easily one of the most terrifying things he’d ever seen.

Virgil kept the ball close to his chest. As long as he could keep it, the West Shore team would still have possession and could continue to move forward across the field. They could still win.

—————————————-

Roman had Tempeste pinned to the ground and somehow it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever done. Which isn’t to say he had never tackled the halfback before— they had been playing against each other for several years now— but this was different somehow, more personal.

Tempeste growled beneath him, wriggling to escape the tackle like water slipping between his fingers. Roman push down harder, refusing to let him go.

Footsteps pounded behind them, turf crunching under the stampede of Knights quickly charging forward. Roman braced himself for the pile-up he knew was coming, over a thousand pounds worth of his team jumping to join the tackle.

One guy slammed into Roman’s back then another, then another. The pressure of the game must have been getting to them as well because they threw themselves at Roman and Tempeste like a pack of wild animals.

It felt like every single Knight, including the offense players, were joining the tackle. And feel was the correct term. He could hardly see anything besides Tempeste’s face within his purple helmet. But he could feel everything, every hit of his teammates as their full weight fell against his back. Beneath him, Tempeste’s breath began quickening, like he was sprinting again. But of course he wasn’t, he was pinned down just like Roman was.

Roman glanced down into the depths of Virgil’s helmet, searching past the grill. Shining in the dark, his eyes caught a small reflection of the stadium lights. They were large, startled, and obviously panicked. He looked like a trapped animal and his breathing only continued to become more rapid.

Their eyes met as Roman looked down and he realized this was the first time he had ever seen Virgil look really, truly afraid. He had seen Tempeste in the fourth quarter, 20 points behind and looking as determined and fierce as ever. He had seen Tempeste sprint across the field, followed by the entire Monarchs team, with a huge grin on his face like there was nothing he would rather do than be hunted after. He had seen Tempeste stand toe-toe-to, small chest puffed out and jaw set confidently, with some guy over a foot taller than him because he tried to mouth off about Virgil’s ability. He had never seen him like this.

“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” Roman set his helmet grill against Virgil’s. He knew Virgil couldn’t hear him and probably didn’t even know why he was putting his face so close. Hell, Roman didn’t even know why he was doing it. There was something about Virgil’s genuine fear that he felt the need to comfort him, tell him that it was just a game, that he would be alright.

The weight of another player hit him and Roman was slammed against Virgil’s chest. The sudden shift forced Roman onto his wrist, the small joint carrying him and the entirety of his team. Something cracked. He gasped sharply as pain struck every molecule in his body. Roman’s vision went black.

—————————————-

Virgil sat in the locker room, staring vaguely across at the rows of blue shelves in front of him as he held a pack of ice against his shoulder. The nurse said that it might have been dislocated in the pileup.

He wished he could blame it on Roman, that oaf was the one who had tackled him to begin with. He couldn’t though. It was Roman’s job to tackle him and that’s exactly what Roman had done and as much as it confused and somewhat infuriated Virgil, he also knew the other boy had protected him from the blunt force of his teammates. Why? Why would he do that?

Dull pain throbbed through the entirety of his body, clouding his mind. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had happened.

Virgil was pretty sure Roman got hurt too. As he had walked off the field, gritting his teeth, he caught a glimpse of Prince cradling his hand as he walked in the opposite direction.

It was one hell of a pileup; four years of football and he had only been in a tangle that bad the first time he had played against the Monarchs. Maybe he and Roman were just destined to create disasters.

Virgil grimaced as his mind kept wandering back to Roman. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but worry if Prince was alright. Virgil had no idea what was going on in his mind, or on the field, or in the locker room on the other side.

—————————————-

Roman was bored. He sat on the bleachers, watching the game drag on ahead of him as he held a pack of ice to his wrist. The nurse had told him it was probably just strained but Roman wasn’t convinced. He could feel the ache throbbing up his arm with every beat of his heart. Between the pain and the pressure spreading out from grinding his teeth, Roman’s head was trapped in a haze that he could barely see through.

From what he could tell, the Monarch Knights were winning. With Virgil out, Westshore’s offense had been greatly weakened. Roman hardly cared; he wasn’t out there, Virgil wasn’t out there, none of the spark was left in the game. What was the point of winning if there was no one to win against?

The crowd roared as the final quarter came to a close. The Knights won, but Roman didn’t. He felt disappointed, dejected, and like he didn’t quite understand where he was. This wasn’t his game.

The night came to an end and Roman opted to go straight to the locker room instead of shaking hands with the other team, blaming it on his wrist.  Usually, he loved facing the other team after a win— admittedly because it gave him a chance to gloat over them— but he just couldn’t find that same feeling tonight.

—————————————-

Virgil leaned against a cold concrete wall of the bleachers, staring up at the stadium light’s false sun above him. If he looked far enough, he could find the dark sky and the twinkling lights of the city below him and beyond the intense glow of the school.

A cool breeze was picking up as the world shifted into night. It was beautiful but Virgil couldn’t appreciate it. He just wished there had been some sort of ending, a closure of some kind. He and Prince’s last hurrah against each other. But they hadn’t gotten a hurrah, all they got was a game that petered out and came to sputtering stop as they both sat on the sidelines. Virgil didn’t even care that West Shore lost; it was never about West Shore and the Monarchs. It was about him and Roman.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, “You mind if I join your sulking or would you rather be left alone to mope?”

Virgil spun around, his body tensing at Roman’s voice and sending a twinge of pain down from his shoulder, “What do you want?”

Roman stepped closer, “I told you, I came to sulk with you because that’s obviously what we’re both doing.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right well... fuck off.”

“Man, I thought you might bite before but now I’m sure of it.”

Prince took another casual step forward as Virgil’s mind began racing. What is he doing? Virgil’s eyes swept over Roman. He had never really seen him out of his football uniform and damn. In denim jeans and a red tee shirt, Virgil was actually able to see him for the first time. Most guys were greatly exaggerated by the uniform, making them look bigger and stronger, but nope, Roman was really just built like that. His gaze reached Prince’s face. Like the rest of his body, his features looked like they had been sculpted and chiseled like some type of statue. He was reminded of how beautiful Roman’s eyes were when he actually took the time to look at them, the warm shades of brown filtering through each other.

“Uh, what are you looking at?” Roman laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the edge of his voice.

Virgil felt blood rushing to his face as a deep blush rose to his cheeks. He had been staring, hadn’t he? “Sorry.”

Roman stepped even closer, clearing his throat again, “I actually came over here because... I wanted just wanted to tell you I’ve really enjoyed playing against you. And it can’t just be summed up by saying ‘good game;’ it’s been a hell of a good four years... you’re a phenomenal player.”

Virgil stared down at his feet. This was not what he had been expecting, not that he had been expecting any of this, “You know... it hasn’t been easy to be the smallest person on the team— shit, I’m the smallest player in any of the district teams. I don’t think I would have kept playing, or would have tried as hard to stay on the team if I wasn’t absolutely set on kicking your ass.”

Roman laughed— a deep, genuine sound flooding from somewhere in his broad chest— and Virgil couldn’t help but grin.

“So yeah... thanks for that. And good game,” Virgil smiled up at the other boy.

“Well, we can’t exactly shake hands like usual,” Roman glanced down at his swollen wrist and Virgil’s shoulder that he was still nursing.

“Can we do something else then?” Virgil moved so he was standing face to face with Roman, his heart pounding in his ears.

Virgil could feel Roman’s breathing quicken as he reached up with his good arm, sliding his hand to the base of Roman’s neck. Put he didn’t startle, he didn’t try to move away. If anything, he seemed to be leaning into the touch.

Virgil moved forward, standing on the tips of his toes to press his lips against Roman’s. For a horrific second, he thought Roman wouldn’t return it but after a moment of apparent shock, Roman bowed his head to deepen the kiss. He tipped them forward, supporting the entirety of Virgil’s weight with his uninjured hand.

When they finally broke away, Virgil was completely breathless. He definitely hadn’t seen that coming at the beginning of the evening.

Roman looked equally surprised but he began grinning like an idiot as the realization of what had just happened settled over him, “Can we do that again??”

Virgil laughed at Roman’s eager, puppy-dog-eyes expression, “At least buy me a drink first.”

“Well, I can’t exactly do that seeing as we’re both like 17–“

“Excuse you, I’m 18,” Virgil stuck his tongue out in mock indignation.

“Yeah, well, uh, would you maybe want to go to homecoming with me?” Roman began rushing his words out, “I mean, I totally get if not. There’s absolutely no pressure. And I’m sure you already have plans so—“

“That’d be cool,” Virgil broke in, “I’d really, really like that.”

Roman’s face once again broke into a beaming smile, “Really??”

“Yeah you big idiot, that’s why I said it. Besides, it’s awful going to a dance after losing a game so I might as well bring a trophy,” Virgil slipped his hand into Roman’s and began leading them out of the stadium and into the parking lot. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened tonight. He had started the evening determined to win, but even though West Shore lost, he didn’t feel disappointed.

Virgil looked at the silhouette of Roman against the fading campus lights as he walked alongside him. Maybe he had won something even more important than the game.

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[sabababa]

Hello, I was wondering if I could request a oneshot please. About goblin slayer having a crush on the reader and making it really obvious and being super blunt about it, but shes to much of an clumsy airhead to relise it please. Awh and bonus is shes short and slightly think/chubby 🖤💞

Goblin Slayer x Female!Reader

Summary: Goblin Slayer takes up different non-human courting methods to convey his feelings for the reader, but she thinks he’s just being a good friend.

Warnings: Some mention of alcohol 

Word count: 3.3+

When Goblin Slayer first told his group that he had a crush on (Y/n), they didn’t take it literally. “I like (Y/n),” he said simply. They didn’t look too much into it until one day, they noticed him watching her as she left the guild for the night. He waved back to her like everyone else did as she left the building. He sighed as he leaned against the table, still looking at the door she just went through.

Elf Archer nearly spat out her drink. “Wait! You like-like (Y/n)?!”

“I told you before,” he stated, still staring at the door.

“Well, we thought you meant as a friend!” She exclaimed.

“More than a friend,” he replied, turning to look at the elf girl.

“If you explained more in detail, we would’ve known better and helped you,” Dwarf Shaman said as he stroked his beard in thought.

“Would you?” Goblin Slayer asked.

“Of course!” Lizard Priest praised. “My people take great joy in when someone starts to court another as a mate!”

“What would you recommend?” The slayer inquired.

“Have you tried getting her gifts?” Priestess asked.

He shook his head. “I haven’t tried anything yet.” He admitted.

“How come?” She stared up at him, confused.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what to do.” Then sighed and rested his chin in his hand as he leaned against the table.

“Woah, you must really like her to be acting like this,” The archer commented as her brows rose at his demeanor.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen you like this,” Priestess said worriedly.

“Are you sure you like her? You’re not mistaking this for another emotion? Because if you are, I won’t hesitate to hurt you if anything happens to-” Elf Archer began to rant before she was cut off.

“I like her.” He stated and stood up straight again, looking at the elf girl. “In fact, I think I might actually love her.”

“Woah!” The entire group gasped.

“That’s a big word, Orcbolg. Are you sure you’re using, right?” Elf Archer teased.

“I may be ignorant socially,” he started, “but I know my own emotions.”

“Hm.” Lizard Priest hummed. “I will help you with courting (Y/n) with my people’s customs. Hopefully, she will reciprocate.”

“What do I have to do?” He asked.

“The females of my species look for many things in a mate,” the lizard began. “First, who is the strongest,” he held up one finger, “second, who is the best hunter,” he held up another finger, “and third, who has the best scales.”

“Your species must be picky if the males have to jump through so many hoops!” Dwarf Shaman commented.

“It is the best way to secure a strong bloodline,” Lizard Priest nodded his head. Then he turned his attention back to the slayer. “You’ve already proven your strength when fighting goblins. Now you must hunt for her to show you will be able to provide for her.”

“I don’t hunt animals.” Goblin Slayer said flatly.

“Well, you hunt goblins, can’t be that much harder!” The dwarf replied.

“Goblins and animals are very different.”

“No matter, I will teach you how to track!” Lizard Priest offered. “We will track the biggest game in this region. Tell me, do you know what it is?”

“Deer,” the slayer answered.

The lizard put his snout in his hand, thoughtfully as he closed his eyes. “That should be big enough since you humans are smaller than my people.” Then he formed a fist with his hand and smacked it into his palm. “Right, let’s go hunt!”

                                                         * * *

Goblin Slayer dropped the deer carcass onto the table inside the farmhouse, where the group waited. “Did you have to bring it inside!” Elf Archer screeched and jumped away from the table in horror. “This poor, innocent creature!”

“Now what?” The slayer looked to Lizard Priest.

“You must present it to (Y/n),” the lizard stated with a smile.

“You can’t just give her a dead deer!” The archer yelled.

“Yeah, you should prepare it as a meal,” Cowgirl spoke from the kitchen doorway, a small smile on her face.

“Can you help me with that?” Goblin Slayer asked her.

“Of Course!” She agreed. “You just need to help me prepare it.” More time passed as Goblin Slayer and Cowgirl prepared the home-cooked meal, even using vegetables from the garden to make it into a wonderful stew. “That looks like everything,” Cowgirl said as she stared at the ingredients. “If you go grab (Y/n) now, the stew should be ready by the time you get back.”

He nodded. “Right,” and started to leave before he was pulled back.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Elf Archer grinned mischievously. “You still have one more step to do!”

“What?” The slayer looked at her.

“We have to make you look presentable!”

“But what about (Y/n)?”

Lizard Priest spoke up, right as a Dragontooth Warrier appeared. “I’ll take care of that!” And then gave it a note before it ran out the door.

Time passed again as Priestess, and Elf Archer helped Goblin Slayer look his best. They made him bathe while they cleaned his armor and placed some long, rooster tail feathers in the back of his helmet. They were a rare red color, and they curved nicely against his helmet, making him look like a knight. “You look amazing!” Priestess complimented as she watched him fit his armor back on.

“Were the feathers necessary?” He asked as he felt them go over his should from how long they were.

“Yes! You look so much better now!” The elf girl spoke. “I dare say you even look handsome!”

“Are you staying for the dinner?” He asked.

“No way! This is a date! It should just be you two!” 

“Really?” He sounded unsure, nervous even.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be in the next room over, so we’ll be listening!” Elf Archer grinned and waved her hand dismissively.

“Don’t be nervous,” Cowgirl said as she began setting the table. “Just be yourself.”

He stayed silent for a moment before nodding his head. “Yeah.”

A knock came at the door, and the elf ushered everyone but Goblin Slayer into the next room to hide. He watched them for a moment, seemingly confused, before she stuck her head back out the door. “Answer it!” She hissed quietly and hid again.

He did as she said and opened the door to reveal (Y/n). His heartbeat sped up, and felt his helmet become a bit humid. She looked so pretty, she wore casual clothing, but she looked perfect to him. He kept staring until she brought a note up to his face. “Did you ask me here for a ‘delicious and hearty game to devour’?” She giggled at the end.

“Oh, is that what that says?” He took it from her hand and read the contents. It was clear Lizard Priest wrote the note, but the signature at the bottom was his name. He put it in his pouch behind his back and then gestured to her to come inside. 

“Wow, it smells delicious!” She smelled the air deeply and hummed in content.

“Yeah, it does,” he said as he sat down at the table. (Y/n) sat down too and admired the meal before he spoke again. “You smell nice too.”

“O-oh, do I?” 

“Yeah, I always worry if the goblin’s blood will be enough to hide your scent,”

Elf Archer face-palmed at his attempt at a compliment.

“Well, I guess you put enough on me that it works.” (Y/n) laughed. He laughed with her. They began eating the stew in silence before he heard a noise from behind her. He looked up and saw Elf Archer mouthing something to him. ‘Mention the meat!’ He stared at her longer, trying to figure what she was mouthing until it clicked. “Um, is something wrong?” The girl in front of him spoke up, noticing his staring.

Since he wore a helmet, she couldn’t tell he was looking behind her, luckily. “I caught the deer for this stew.” He said.

“Oh, you know how to hunt?”

“Lizard Priest taught me earlier today.”

“Wow, you must be a natural if you were able to catch one today!” 

Lizard Priest’s heart swelled with pride as he felt like he was watching his youngling succeed in getting a mate.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t that different from Goblin hunting.” He ate another piece of the stew.

“It’s so cool how you’re so willing to learn new stuff.” (Y/n) smiled before taking a bite of meat.

“A lot of people are smarter than me, I know that,” he started, “but when it comes to goblin killing, I’m the smartest there is.” He heard another noise at the doorway and looked behind (Y/n). Elf Archer was mouthing something again. ‘Steer away from goblins!’

“What do you keep looking at?” The girl asked nervously. “Is something on my face?” She tried wiping around her mouth for any stray food, but nothing came up.

“I…” He kept staring at her flustered expression. “I just think you’re beautiful.”

A faint blush dusted her cheeks before giving a light giggle as it disappeared. “I think you look handsome too, especially with the new feathers,” she complimented him.

He looked back down at the soup, stirring it for another bite. “I think they’re unnecessary.”

“Then why did you get them?”

“I didn’t, the girls put them in.”

“Why?”

“To impress you.” He casually took a bite of a vegetable.

“What for? Do you need something? Because you know you can just ask.” (Y/n) smiled sweetly. He stared at her for a while, he was mostly confused at her offer. Why would he need to impress her if he needed something? The entire group face-palmed at hearing her response. Then she looked over and saw that the sun was starting to set. “Oh! I need to get back home before it gets dark!” She quickly ate the rest of her meal and stood up. “Thanks for the food, it was delicious! But if you need a favor, you can just ask next time!” She smiled before leaving the house.

Elf Archer entered the room after the door closed. “Quick, offer to walk her home!”

Goblin Slayer’s head dipped as he looked at the rest of his stew. “No, she doesn’t feel the same way.”

“No, that’s not what happened!” She sat next to him, and the group joined them. “We all know (Y/n), she’s pretty oblivious to stuff like this!”

“Yes, Sir Goblin Slayer, do not be discouraged!” Lizard Priest held a fist up. “You have no other suitors to quarrel so you can have another chance with her!”

Goblin Slayer didn’t respond, he kept looking down. They stared at him sadly in silence.

“Alright! I’ve made up my mind!” Dwarf Shaman declared loudly. “I’ll help you court (Y/n) with some surefire dwarf customs that not even a human could resist!”

                                                          * * *

The next day, Goblin Slayer and the group stood inside a jewelry store as the dwarf began a lecture. “In Dwarf Society, we value wealth above all else, and a quick way to a woman’s heart is with jewelry!” He began. “By giving (Y/n) a rare and expensive jewel, you are showing her that you can take care of her and that no jewel is too expensive!”

“What should I get?” Goblin Slayer looked to him for advice.

The dwarf hummed as he inspected each jewel in the store. He came upon one that looked like the proper stone to give to the girl. He held up a large sapphire necklace that was held together by pearls. “This one!”

“No.” The slayer said immediately.

“Why not?!” Dwarf Shaman gasped. “It’s the perfect size! The jewel is immaculate! Any dwarf woman would accept this!”

“Exactly, you’re thinking about dwarf women,” Goblin Slayer said as he looked around the jewels himself. “(Y/n)’s human and doesn’t need something that gaudy.”

“B-b-but-” Dwarf Shaman stuttered before being cut off.

“Shut it, dwarf! Let him do what he thinks is best!” Elf Archer shushed him.

The slayer stopped when he saw a particular piece. It was a small ruby gemstone with a small, golden chain attached to it. He picked it up to inspect it, then handed it to the dwarf. “What about this?”

The dwarf looked at it and gave an appreciative nod. “This would do.”

Priestess gasped when she saw the price. “But that’s so expensive!”

“Cost isn’t an issue,” he said as he grabbed the necklace back. “It’s worth it for her.”

After they left the store, they started to head back to the guildhall in search of (Y/n), but as luck would have it, right as they turned a corner, said girl bumped into him and almost fell onto her back, but the slayer grabbed her before she fell. She opened her eyes, surprised she didn’t feel hard ground beneath her, but instead, Goblin Slayer held her in a dipped position. 

He pulled her back up as he asked. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” She stuttered, embarrassed that she almost fell onto her butt in front of the silver-rank hero.

“Hey! Perfect timing! He was looking for you!” Elf Archer pushed him forward slightly, and he almost tripped.

“What for? Do you need that favor?” The girl asked.

“Uhh…” He looked at her. He started to feel discouraged again. The doubt crept into the back of his mind as he thought back to the jewel in his pouch.

“He just needs to give you something!” The archer explained. “But we’ll be going now! See you at the guildhall!” She pushed the group around the corner, and they hid there as they listened to the conversation.

“You need to give me something? I don’t remember lending you anything.” (Y/n) rested a finger on her chin in thought.

Goblin Slayer managed to kick himself out of the rut he was in and cleared his throat to catch her attention. They stared at each other as he reached behind him and pulled out a velvet box. “This is for you.”

(Y/n) grabbed the box from him in curiosity and opened it. She gasped at the vibrant jewel inside. She pulled it out from the box and admired it in the sunlight. “It’s so pretty!”

“Not as pretty as you.”

She blushed. “T-thanks, but you didn’t need to get me anything,”

The blush that appeared on her cheeks gave him some hope, and he perked up a little. “Do you want me to put it on you?”

“Sure! If you don’t mind!” She smiled at him. She handed him the necklace as she turned around. The necklace fell in front of her gaze before resting on her chest.

“There,” he said.

(Y/n) turned back around to look at him. “Thanks so much, but why did you get me this?”

“Because I like you,” he felt his helmet grow humid as his heartbeat was erratic in his chest.

“Aw, you don’t have to buy me jewelry!” She smiled. “We’re just friends!”

His heart rate sped up again, but in panic and anger toward himself. He was stupid to think she actually liked him. He knew it. He knew she didn’t like him. He felt like an idiot as he tightened his fists at his sides, but then the tension released from them once a wave of sadness came over him. “I have to go.” He quickly brushed past her and the group around the corner.  

Elf Archer caught up to him. “Wait! She didn’t mean that!” She tried to defend. “She took it the wrong way if you just explain-”

“No,” he stopped and spun on his heel to look at her, then hung his head low in sorrow. “I told her how I felt, and she said we’re just friends. I should have taken the hint the first time.” Then he walked away again, leaving the archer behind.

He kept walking until he made it to the guildhall. He stared up at the big doors, contemplating if he should go inside. Before he knew it, he was already at his usual spot, standing at the tall table on the side of the room, a drink in his hand. He took a sip and felt the burn of the alcohol down his throat. He almost took another sip before a hand rested on his. Priestess stood there with a sad smile.

“I know you’re hurt, Goblin Slayer,” she started, “but I think you’ve been going about this the wrong way.”

He looked at her, debating on whether or not he should listen to another courting method.

“You just need to be yourself, just like Cowgirl said,” she took her hand off his and held her staff to her chest. “You know (Y/n), so only you know how to get through that thick skull of hers.” She smiled as she looked to the door behind him, and he looked too.

There (Y/n) stood. She had a worried expression on her face as she scanned the crowd of adventurers. Her eyes eventually landed on him. He turned to face her to look approachable as Priestess walked away. (Y/n) made her way over to him and stood in front of him. “Did I upset you earlier? I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” she apologized.

He sighed as his helmet tilted downwards. The priestess’s words echoed in his head as he thought of what to do next. He looked back up to her and held her hand. “Will you follow me?” She nodded her head, and he led her out of the guild, still holding her hand. They kept walking for sometime before coming up to a secluded garden in the town. It was night now, so no one but them was there. He brought her over to the side of the fountain, where no one could see them if someone peeked in. He held both her hands in his as he stared at her. 

“Do you have something you need to say?” She asked as she noticed his silence.

He took a deep breath before speaking. “These past couple of days, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you how I really feel. I listened to a lizard, I listened to a dwarf, and honestly, I should have listened to the elf more. But then a priestess told me how I needed to be myself, and I realized that I need to follow my heart.” He stared at her, squeezing her hands before saying his next words. “I love you.” She opened her mouth to speak, and he cut her off. “Not in a friendly way, in a romantic way. I’m in love with you and have been for a while now.”

(Y/n) was at a loss for words as she stared at the stoic slayer. There wasn’t any way she could confuse this with general kindness. “I-I-” she started to stutter as she looked down. His heart began to sink at another rejection. “I love you too!” His head jolted up at her confession.

“Really?” He almost sounded excited.

“Y-yeah, I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to assume- plus, I thought you were just being nice, but I guess I was wrong about that.” She giggled to herself at the end.

He stared at the girl for a long time before a blush erupted on her face. That’s when he finally spoke. “Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes widened slightly at his request, but she gave a shy nod. He let go of her hands to remove his helmet and tucked it underneath his arm. She had seen his face before at the festival, but it had been a while since then. This time she memorized his features; fluffy ashen hair that dropped in front of his red eyes, two scars stuck out on his left cheek, but they only added to his beauty. He held her chin delicately between his finger and thumb and pressed a kiss onto her lips. It didn’t last long before he pulled away and put his helmet back on. She assumed he was being shy and gave him a bashful smile.

“So, you’ll be mine?” He asked.

(Y/n) nodded her head. “Of course.”

[snarkwrites]

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

[luasworkshop]

I dunno if I've covered this explicitly at some point but here's some spice-related details for Lua (specifically D/S stuff which isn't their usual wheelhouse but occasionally applies.)

Lua isn't really much dominant or submissive, and honestly is pretty vanilla* overall (they like sex, they like tenderness, they like things to be light and equitable), but they can fill a role if desired (in their way). (Vanilla is a nice flavor - it augments so many others!)

(this is only so accurate since it excludes some things but it's not terribly off.)

Lua in a more dominant role:

- Good with knots (hey sailing knowledge comes in handy somewhere) and has a spell or two to hand to tie someone up in a flash.

- Has definitely made some interesting contraptions and knows how to use them (not something they usually use for themselves, but they have the knowledge and skills with clockwork and artifice, and the Vesuvian dildo races require FUNCTIONAL models - they're happy to show off. Plus they have some other interesting toys as well.)

- Doesn't have the heart to really cause much pain, but gives good hickies/bites if invited to do so (they are rather 'mouthy' after all). Certainly with their shape-shifting they can throw fangs, claws, tentacles and suckers into this mix. They're not really keen on drawing blood. Not at all against playfully spanking someone.

- Absolutely expert with magic-based temperature play and has learned a thing or two about shocking from Aleis.

- They have more than enough experience and practice to be excellent at physically teasing/denial, edgeplay, and over-stimulation.

- Sassy as shit, isn't good at belittling, but knows how to point out when someone's being a needy little creature. Verbally tends to play toward teasing, playful banter, and maybe being just a bit haughty and disinterested.

- They're fairly large at 6', not a particularly strong build, but they can use their size and shapeshifting to pin someone down and hold them there (they're not huge on tussling but if they're allowed to use magic including shifting it's fine).

- Really the shapeshifting comes in a fair bit if allowed - let them be comfortable in their fluidity of form, and you'll get to see some pretty fun parts of them - their creativity, their magical prowess, and their more wild side.

- If allowed they'll use multiple arms/limbs/digits to assist in things, continually and progressively shifting. Or they can take on a form that is more impressive/complex than their own day-to-day appearance (really whatever would be enjoyed - it's all icing on the cake).

- Is good with being a monster/creature/'hunter' they willingly embrace that side of themselves (something they struggled with, growing up - the whole 'I wasn't the princess or the knight, I was the dragon'.)

Lua in a more submissive role:

- Can't really stand being physically hurt (apart from hickies - which they do like) or verbally degraded (they take it personally and find it genuinely upsetting) but they're very good with being told what to do, and they don't mind an authoritative or firm tone. They're willing to use terms of respect, but they don't particularly like stretching into role-play that involves authority figures they feel they have been or might be genuinely wronged by (parents, military, etc.)

- Similarly, doesn't like being physically restrained, but is, again very good with being told what to do. If you want them still they'll be still - though it may be a struggle depending on what else is going on.

- Is all for being teased and denied, edged, or overstimulated, either way. Praise them and you'll get quite the show (multiple orgasms are also a perennial favorite - given their shape-shifting).

- They enjoy temperature play used on themselves, but don't trust electricity from anyone but Aleis (who is only very gentle and mild about it with them - that's less about pain and more about riding the storm... literally and figuratively).

- They're good with being challenged - they take that sort of thing personally but in the right context find it fun, whether it's trying to be quiet, or still, or trying to hold back or what have you.

- They're easily verbal and vocal, inclined to promise and plead if allowed (they're not entirely inclined to beg but they have their moments).

- Again that shape-shifting, they'll be whatever is wanted of them, and can make themselves more flexible for display or pleasing multiple partners (yes they can absolutely eat themselves out if they put their mind to it.) Multiple limbs and whatever else goes both ways.

- Conversely is good with being a poor beast/creature (the other side of that comfort in being themselves.) Isn't particularly into pet play (this is more hurt/comfort in nature), but if you want them to have ears and a tail you can have that if you like (though they're likely to just get silly with it**).

Either way they tend to be very attentive and alert, you'll never get them to fully shut down conscious thought (always SOMETHING on the back of the brain, no real subspace for this one) but they can relax quite well and settle into a role for those that prefer that sort of thing. They just want to do well and do right by their lovers and friends (who... well if they are lovers it takes Lua a while to trust, yanno?).

They like aesthetic garments on others but do get nervous about wearing anything costume-y themselves, they feel more naked than just... being naked (but - they're willing to try). They wear their ring unless they're bathing, baking (dough under a ring is just... no), asleep, or have some risk of degloving their finger (working with certain tools). Aleis and Lua vet each other's partners and are open about who they're with. They usually take their earrings off once things are getting physical (they've ripped their ear before and it hurts.)

They're also just... a massive vers, they don't really care what happens there as long as it feels good for everyone involved. We already know their genitalia varies a lot, and is often somewhat fantastic.

Lua with aftercare:

- HOPE YOU LIKE CUDDLING. (Seriously: They're all about the WHOLE thing, care and attention before and after very much included, whether they're dominant or submissive. If they can take a bath and/or a nap with whoever they're with, all the better - but they want to talk and be assured, and also just... talk to you about weird animals and strange plants and their next project and hear how things are going for you and whatever interests you.)

*We'll assume the shape-shifting counts as 'vanilla' here, as they're a tender monster if you're into monsterfucking, and it's innate to their existence. Shape-shifting is some of their best magical prowess and it comes easily and fluidly.

**Tell them to be a cat-person (naynbinary) and they're going to knock your glass of the nightstand, climb the drapes, stare into space wild-eyed for 15 minutes, and generally make themselves a menace. They're not interested in being 'tamed' they're just being a dumbass.

[shaydeoffical]

Glass Slipper Malfunctions: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Summary: Y/n's Halloween Costume Breaks at a party, and they call their best friend to come help them. Thing's don't go as they planned, and now there's something more than friendship brewing. 

Author’s Note: This is part of a collaborative hosted by @pluviophile-imagines for the fall season. I was so happy to be a part of this amazing collection of works. Please go check out the other’s!!! 

Warnings: Mentions of fake blood, riding in a car.

Words: 2.4k

Sweater Weather Collab

Glass Slipper Malfunctions

"(Y/n), if you swirl that cup any faster, there'll be no punch left." Toga flicked my forehead. We were on the second floor of Dabi's house. His father was out of town, and he decided to go all out for Halloween. Smoke machines led lights, streamers, and even some graffiti over the fireplace, no corner was lacking a spooky decoration.

"I'm sorry, I just wish Shinso hadn't bailed", I admitted, downing what was left in the solo cup. Music was blaring all across the house, but I could tell she heard me when her smile faltered.

"You don't need him (Y/n), he's holding you back from having fun. He's always so serious and grumpy." Her costume was a bloody nurse, with rips in tears in all the right places. Leaning into me, she used her stethoscope to listen to my chest, tapping the instrument to the rhythm. "Yup, your heart's working just fine. Don't look so upset, come on, let's dance."

"Toga, don't pull so hard." I dragged my heels behind her, barely keeping up with her pace. Knocking people out of our way, she took the stairs two at a time.

We had been dancing for the last two hours, and I was already low on stamina and bloated from the punch. While running, I tossed my cup into the overflowing trash, missing it by a good few feet. As if my luck could get any worse, the liquid soaked into the floor. Dabi was okay ruining his family home, but I wasn't.

"If you don't smile, I'm going to do something drastic." Toga spun me around and dipped me as the music dropped. Alcohol, sweat, and a faint hint of blood filled the air, making my stomach begin to churn even more.

"I feel kind of woozy," I clutched to her shoulder, but she continued to swirl around the room and rock us back and forth.

"Everybody, gather round! Midnight is almost upon! I'm glad you-" Dabi got everyone's attention, drawing in a crowd around him.

"Come on, you're not being very fun." Toga ignored Dabi, and we moved to the back of the crowd. Still moving to the music, she let me go mild spin. I fell back, my heel snapped as I tried to catch myself. My dress caught on my other shot, ripping the strap holding it up. Landing on my ass, I pushed the hair from my face. My ribbon was lost in the crowd. In a moment of realization, I covered my chest, trying to get to my feet. With my dress pulled back up, no one had seen my trip; I just needed to get fixed back up.

"Toga, I-"She was gone. Clutching my thin paper costume between my hands, I kicked off my shoes, darting through the crowd to the bathroom. I had never been so thankful for a speech, fog machine, and laser lights in my entire life.  

Making it to the bathroom, I locked the door and looked in the mirror. My makeup had slid out of place, my hair was a tangled mess from the bun I initially had it in. The 'glass', slippers were now scuffed, and one heel was missing. My dress straps had broke beyond repair, and I was in desperate need of a backup costume.

Sitting on the toilet, I pulled out my phone, zoning in on my lock screen. It was Shinso holding up his kitten. I could see his head just poking into the frame. His dazzling smile causing one to spread on my own face. I don't know how I got to be in this bathroom to start with.

Everything had been planned down to a T. Shinso, and I would dress as Cinderella and Lucifer for the party. We'd get in the horse-drawn carriage I rented, at eight, and then arrive at the party by eight-thirty. Shinso would find a nice corner to sit and read, while I danced the night away looking for my Princess Charming. Toga and I would drink it up and bask in the full moon. At the end of the party, Shinso would be our D.D and take us home in Toga's car. It was simple enough. Thinking back, I didn't really take into consideration how Shinso felt about it. Well, I kind of knew how he would felt about being Lucifer instead of Prince Charming, but I thought he'd be okay with it. Then there was the other issue...

It wasn't a secrete he didn't like my new friend Toga. He tried to keep that opinion to himself, but it all spilled out last week. I knew changing our Halloween ritual from watching movies to a party with strangers would upset him. I just thought he'd go along with it for me. Or maybe I hoped he'd go along with it. I wanted to respect his boundaries, but he and Toga were so jealous of each other that it was hard to see either of them.

If there was one thing that clear now, Toga was willing to leave me for the wolfs. Pulling up Shinso's contact, I knew I was going to need to grovel a little. He was already waiting to be my D.D, but I needed a little something else now.

Y/n: Heyyyy, I need some help.

Fuzz Ball: Are you okay? I'm on my way

Y/n: I'm fine. My costume broke and I'm stuck in the bathroom.

Fuzz Ball: Can't Toga help you?

Y/n: She sort of, ran off and I'm… I don't know. I'm confused, I can't go back out there like this and I feel really guilty about ditching you.

Fuzz Ball: You are allowed to hang with your other friends without feeling guilty,

Y/n: I know, but I hate that you two don't like each other. I shouldn't have invited you and upset you.

Fuzz Ball: I'm not upset, I was sad. But I agree to be D.D, I shouldn't have back out last minute.

Fuzz Ball: I'll be there, I have a plan.

Y/n: What did I do to deserve you?

Fuzz Ball: You offered to do my history assignment in exchange for me doing your math.

Y/n: Right, seems like a fair trade. Also, don't you dare text and drive.

Fuzz Ball: I'm using the text to speech feature, I'm almost there.

Y/n: Someone's knocking on the door, ahhh. I'm on the first floor and to the right. There's a little hallway, and that's where the bathroom is.

Sinking back onto the commode, I relaxed my shoulders. Shinso was on his way to rescue me. I guess between my two friends, Shinso was the loyal one. Toga did seem flighty, but tonight was ridiculous. She had to see me fall and just walk away...that was an issue for another time.

At least I got all the dancing and drinking done that I wanted too. It was time to go home and convince Shinso to put on some scary movies and call it even.

There was a steady knock on the door, a familiar pattern that Shinso always used when sneaking to my window late a night. I flung the door open, and he dove into the room, carrying an orange trash bag filled with something. His black cat ears were perched on his head, a long fluffy tail wrapped around his waist. So much for us matching now.

"I love you, man," I hugged him tight, unsteady on my feet. He steadied me, and returned my bear hug.

"Thank me later, let's get out of here. There's so much weed in the air, I won't be able to pass a breathalyzer if we don't haul ass." He handed me the bag and pulled flip flops from his back pocket.

"You're telling me. I sobered up after tripping, but it's been a wild night., Anyway, I'm really eternally grateful- Shinso, why are there leaves in this trash bag?"

"It is a costume party, right? I thought you'd want to blend in." He wiggled his brow, the obscene cat makeup adding to his smug idea.

"I take back what I said about loving you." Laughing, I ripped two holes in the bottom of the bag and stepped in. Getting it to my neck, Shinso tied it, and I poked my arms out, the leaves itching my skin. "It works.

"You look cute." He smoothed my hair before opening the door. A line had formed, and we received death glares from the party-goers that were making some assumptions. "Let's get out of here."

"Well, I guess the carriage does turn back into a pumpkin at the end of the night, it's fitting." I sighed; the party was still in full swing. Shinso didn't let go of my hand as he parted the sea of people. My legs crunching the leaves as we walked. No doubt, I was leaving a leaf sprinkle trail in my wake.

"Is that a costume change I see?" Toga caught the other end of my hand. Her friend Twice was right behind her, carrying their drinks.

"I'm glad I ran into you. I'm headed home early. Can you find a D.D?" I asked her, the music-making my ears throb. Through the changing lights, I saw her grip her chin before smiling.

"I can just crash here. And be careful with Mr. Grumpy pants." She leaned around me to lock eyes with Shinso. "Aww, is the kitty cat upset?" She clawed at the air before turning tail to move along.

"She took it better than I thought." He sighed, finally reaching the door.

The cold air wrapped around my legs, sending a chill up my spine. The moon illuminated the street, and all the children had returned home to get a sugar high before bed. If music wasn't spilling out of the house, like a heartbeat in my ears. Shinso's car was in the middle of the street, emergency lights flashing, and the door still agape.

"You really rushed in like my knight in shining armor." Getting in the passenger side, I hugged my bag close as Shinso shut the door. He walked around the front and got in, turning off the emergency lights.

"Why can't I be your Prince Charming?" He took off down the road to my rental house. I hadn't been living on my own for long, but he already knew the road by heart. Even I still had to use my GPS. "Cat got your tongue?"  

"No, yet." I giggled, focusing on his lips. Swallowing hard, tension began to build between us. We both an impeccable communication skills, but there was something neither one of us was willing to outright say.

"Is someone being a bad pumpkin tonight?" He shook the bag, and I smacked his hand away. His smile was enough to make my heart race.  

"Yea, I guess I am a bad pumpkin." I leaned into my knees, trusting Shinso not to break so fast I bump my head.

"You can cry if you need too. Teasing you is one of my favorite past times, but I know you're upset."

"I know you like me." I pushed my hair back. "And the reason I didn't let you dress as Prince Charming is… I don't know. When I was at that party, I just kept thinking about us watching horror movies and eating way too much caramel popcorn. How we'd fall asleep next to year other and wake up for a mid-afternoon bike ride through the town before everyone takes down their decorations. And we can still do one half of that tradition if I avoid a hanger over."

"You didn't want me to be your prince charming because we have basically been dating the past two years, without ever getting into the physical side?" He pulled onto a back road and stopped at a spot that had the perfect view of the moon.

"I knew what you were hinting at when you asked to be Prince Charming. But I was afraid I didn't understand your hint, and then I was afraid someone would ask if we were dating and if you said no… I'd be sad. And it was a mess." I fiddled with the drawstring on the bag, not looking at him.

"I'll just say it. I like you, I like spending time with you. We've been friends for half of our lives, but I know we've had something special going on for a while now. I was afraid to ruin what we had, but I can't play it safe anymore. (Y/n) please look at me." I raised my eyes, his hand cupping my chin. "There's a few more hours left before the sun comes up. How about we go home, watch some movies and make out?" My skin heated up, blood rushing to my brain to keep it in operation.

"Bold of you to assume I don't want a kiss right now." I shifted to face him, a leaf ticking my side.

"I'm sorry, your majesty." He leaned forward, our lips latching onto each other like magnets. A wolf hollowed in the distance, and a cloud pasted at just the right time to illuminate the car. I took fistfuls of his black shirt and held him close. It was slow at first, but it heated up as I inched over the car console. We separated for breath, and I settled into my seat.

"Don't be sorry." I giggled, sitting back in my seat and wiping the black lipstick from my mouth. "Why'd we wait so long?"

"I don't know. But I regret it." He reversed from our spot on the hill and got back on the main road. "Let's get home and makeup time."

"So in the end, the winning combination is a broken plastic shoe, Lucifer, and a magic pumpkin. You know, Prince Charming and Cinderella are so mainstream. This was the better outcome, anyway." I kicked my swollen feet on his dash. "But I could get used to 'Your Majesty"; it has a nice ring to it." I tickled under Hitoshi's chin, his stubble pricking my fingers.

"Out of everything I just said, that's what you're holding on to?" He pulled into my house.

"Yup." I popped the p, and got out. "Race to the couch, let's start with Coraline."

"As you wish." He shook his head, chasing after me anyway. It wasn't what I planned for, but I was happy. I guess having my costume break was the best possible outcome for the night. We curled up on the couch, and a sense of peace washed over me. Nothing had ever felt so right.  

[lasignoramain]

Tempus Fugit

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: Major Character Death

Relationship: Jean/Lisa

Summary: "Before demanding too many miracles from the gods, first consider if you are willing to pay the price they ask."

Sometimes, the sand of one's hourglass moves too quickly. What happens when Lisa's time runs out?

Word Count: 3088

Read under the bar, and/or on AO3!

Who knew that helping Barbara convince Jean to go on vacation would lead to Lisa Minci, the simple librarian of the Knights of Favonius, taking on the role of Acting Grand Master? Kaeya could have asked anyone— Amber, for instance. The young girl would be more than willing to take on the role and perform amicably. Even Eula would gladly take on the role of Acting Grand Master, and would most likely view it as a challenge. A test, to see if she's one the same level as Jean when it comes to taking on the tasks of Grand Master.

Even with those candidates, both of which would be ready and raring to assist while Kaeya shirks his duties, he chose Lisa.

Lisa, who chose the measly tasks of a librarian for a reason. Her job is rarely stressful, though she still takes it just as seriously. Jean entrusted the library to her, after all, so she wouldn't disappoint the woman she's severely indebted to.

Jean, as well as Grand Master Varka. Although Varka was adamant on Lisa being the Captain of the 8th Company. Absentmindedly, Lisa grasps at the Vision resting on her chest. The Knights of Favonius— they're all flawed people with ideals and goals independent of their occupations. They don't always act as one would expect.

Protect those who cannot protect themselves, even if it means that you might sacrifice yourself in the process.

Why?

A protector, a guardian, both a shield and a sword, dandelions floating in the Anemo-blessed breeze. A warm smile, gloved hands resting over Lisa's. Determination to work hard to fill the shoes that Grand Master Varka left her, stress building when one too many stacks of paper rest on her desk. Still, she presses on, a storm of productivity. Sacrificing herself for—

For what, exactly, does Jean sacrifice herself for? Or maybe the correct question is who?

The obvious answer would be the people of Mondstadt. They're all grateful for Acting Grand Master Jean— grateful to the point where they're too reliant on her. A lost cat that will inevitably return when it's hungry, advertising papers lost in the breeze that could easily be remade in a day or less. Freedom shackled by a doting Acting Grand Master who can't say no to the people she's meant to protect.

Lisa clears her throat, shaking the dizziness away. Just a few more papers to review and sign, then she'll return to the library to ensure that things are running smoothly.

Is Jean thinking of her while she's away with Barbara and Klee? With Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, Razer, and Lumine? Hopefully, she's enjoying her vacation thoroughly, reconnecting with that relaxed, fun side that she once had when she was younger. Not that Lisa knows personally what Jean was like before she began shouldering the burdens of a Favonius Knight; she's only heard stories from Barbara, who's always more than willing to share the memories she holds so near and dear to her heart.

Her... heart. When did Lisa's chest start aching? Dull, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Nothing to worry about, it should go away in a few minutes.

Perhaps Kaeya and Diluc will have a small moment of bonding while they're on those islands together. While they're brothers, they've been so distant for so long. Not that Lisa knows why— the reasons of their tense relationship is a mystery even to her. Such a fragile thing the two of them have. Lisa hopes they eventually reconcile.

As for Klee, she's most likely ecstatic to have so many friends with her. Hopefully she'll be even more overjoyed when she realizes who's behind her summer getaway. Lisa played along for the young girl's sake, though she would know that handwriting anywhere, even if Alice tried to change it up. She still dotted her I's the same, and her A's had that exact flourish to them that made it obvious to Lisa.

The omnipotent mage. How much knowledge has she acquired in her travels, compared to what Lisa knows? Does Alice know the truth of why the Archons bestow Visions on mere mortals? Is Lisa paranoid for good reason, or is a fool to be terrified by whatever grand scheme the gods have in store for those "blessed" with obtaining a Vision?

"Before demanding too many miracles from the gods, first consider if you are willing to pay the price they ask."

Blessings will always hide their curses in the depths of the shadows, only rearing their heads when given the best opportunity to cause the most damage.

The dull ache in Lisa's chest turns into a sharp, stabbing pain. Gasping, she keels over, resting her forehead on the cool, polished wood of her desk. Her hat flops unceremoniously off of her head and onto the desk, knocking over a jar of ink and a few stacks of papers.

Always... they always come with a cost.

It wasn't even her Vision that did this to Lisa. Still, she's lived her life, hasn't she? Her hourglass just has less sand than most, and she accepted that a long time ago.

Still, why now? Of all the times, when she's alone. No one to be by her side when she goes. Can't she have this one thing? To have someone hold her close to them while her time finally runs out? Or will she be alone as she always has been, holding everyone at an arm's length, too afraid to grow attached and lose someone, grieve over a lost life?

"Jean..."

Help. She needs help. Her blood is rushing so loudly in her ears, but if she can just manage to get up and find someone, call for help, and she might be able to extend her life just for a little while longer, at least until she can see Jean—

A cough rises up Lisa's throat, and, through her delirious vision, she sees the blood more than tastes it. Is her sense of taste the first thing to go? What about her other senses? Can she still feel her hands, the wooden desk her forehead is resting on, the thrum of her Vision on her chest?

Numb. Numb is all she feels. Is that a feeling, or a lack thereof?

Fuck, she needs to move. If she can just find Eula, or- or Amber. Hell, if she can just get the attention of the guards stationed outside the door.

Power through it, Lisa. This is what you've been saving your energy for— to fight your fate for just one more day. Curse the Archons, curse this Vision, and curse that stupid. Magic. Book—

Lisa groans, slowly pushing herself up from her desk. The entire room is spinning— how is she going to get anywhere like this? It's laughable, really. How many people have referred to Lisa as elegant, refined, composed? This— her, right now— is the complete opposite of how many view her.

Oh, how embarrassed she would feel if she wasn't on the precipice of death, desperate for someone to save her. Where is her knight in shining armor? Any moment now, she should be bursting through that door, always prepared to play hero for everyone.

So, where is her hero?

Lisa's hand slips on the edge of her desk. She barely has the strength to catch herself, so she falls with a loud crash. She needs to get her act together— it would be so embarrassing for Jean to see her like this, wouldn't it? A sweating, shaking mess.

But Jean won't say anything about the state Lisa's in. She'll just give Lisa that warm smile before gathering her up in her strong arms, and then they could go to Windrise for a picnic, or— or even Starsnatch Cliff, so they could pick Cecilia flowers together. Then they could have some tea before they have to go back to work.

Jean. Jean, Jean, Jean.

The floor is so cold, Jean. It's dark, Jean. It was light outside just a moment ago, Jean, where did the sun go? Goodness, how the time flies. To think that you and I only met a short while ago, Jean. I'm so happy that I met you, and— and the rest of the Knights of Favonius, Jean.

A door slams open. Footsteps, but it all sounds so far away. So far, Jean, you're so far away. Can't you come back? Can't you come home, just for me?

"Her... is grave. We need... to the Church, and, while you're at it... the bard. He can send for Jean— don't ask questions, just do as you're told!"

Ah, Lisa can't feel a thing. Is this what death feels like? Nothingness? Her hearing is all she has left. What happens after she loses that, too?

They mentioned Jean. By the time they get a hold of her, it'll be much too late, and not even Barbatos can save Lisa. Perhaps he can keep her spirit here, just for a little longer? She wants to see everyone one more time.

Please. Just once more.

But that would be a bother— Jean is on vacation. Lisa can't be selfish, can't take her away, can't be selfish.

"Come on, Lisa... stay with us."

Who is that? Eu...la. Eula.

Eula.

Lisa wishes she could apologize.

"Until I enact my vengeance on all of the Knights of Favonius, no harm can come upon any of them! Including you, Lisa. I'll make sure that nothing happens to you, or Jean, or Amber—"

Eula's a good person. Strange, but she fits in perfectly with the rest of the Knights. Caring in her own way. She doesn't know about why Lisa has the condition that she does, and she has never asked a single question about it. Lisa's always appreciated that about Eula.

Eula, whose voice she can't hear anymore.

Has she finally died?

Lisa.

Aha, that's a familiar voice.

She opens her eyes to find that, yes, she is dead. How morbid— her soul is outside of her body, and thus she can see her deathly pale corpse resting on one of the cots in the church's infirmary. Her Vision is without its usual amethyst glow. Venti is by her side, though not looking at her physical body. He's looking right at her spirit.

"Well, this is a shame," Lisa sighs, crossing her arms. "Here to take me away with the winds before I can even see my friends, Barbatos? I'm hurt."

Venti shakes his head. "The least I can do is allow you to see them one last time, Lisa. Though it would be faster to take you to the archipelagos where they are now, I've sent Dvalin to gather them, per Eula's request." He smiles sympathetically, eyes full of mirth. "How do you feel?"

Lisa hums, tilting her head to the side. "Must I answer that, I wonder? Although I no longer feel the pain that I did while I was alive, which, I suppose, is a blessing. I expected death to give me much more time to do what I initially planned on doing before I ran out of time, but alas," she sighs, though it's not as if she's actually breathing. How strange. "How long until Jean arrives?"

"It shouldn't be long, now. Dvalin is a fast flier, after all," Venti chuckles, though that sad look never leaves his emerald eyes. "I see that your carefree nature has followed you even in death. If you'd received a Vision from me, you would fit in perfectly."

"Your Vision wouldn't match my outfit," Lisa retorts with a shrug. "I'm the Witch of Purple Rose, not Green. Though, thank you for the offer. Perhaps in my next life, I'll be granted an Anemo Vision."

Venti laughs loudly at that. "Perhaps you will," he agrees lightheartedly. He opens his mouth to add something else, but pauses when they both hear loud footsteps heading toward them. Just as quickly as the mourning left Venti's eyes, it returns. "The winds bring your companions to us quickly, it seems."

Jean bursts into the room, greedily gulping in whatever air she can into her lungs. Barbara, Lumine, and everyone else who had gone to the Golden Apple Archipelago are here.

"Barbatos—"

"Jean. Everyone," Venti solemnly greets the group with a nod. "Lisa asked me to hold her spirit here for a little while longer, at least until she could see the rest of you one last time." He turns toward Lisa's ghost, who stands there with crossed arms. The Anemo Archon summons his lyre, plucking at its strings to play a mellow tune.

A breeze flows through the room, and everyone's gaze moves to where Lisa is standing, next to her physical body. She watches them all intently— Diluc tries to keep his expression unreadable, but his knitted eyebrows, his tightly pressed together lips. Barbara is holding back her tears, to no avail. They all look so... sad.

"Now! Why are we all so mopey?" Lisa chides, shaking her head. She steps forward, placing her hands on her hips. "I certainly wouldn't want to remember my last moments with you lot having such sad faces, now, would I? So smile! It's the least you can do for me, isn't it?"

Klee whimpers next to Albedo, and Lisa's facade cracks. She kneels to Klee's height, smiling at the young girl. "Come now, Klee. You're a strong girl, aren't you? I know it might be hard right now, but you'll be alright."

"But... but I won't get anymore treats from Miss Lisa, will I?" Klee whines, shaking her head. "I don't want that! I want Miss Lisa to keep giving me treats! It's not fair!"

At Klee's tantrum, Barbara finally breaks with a loud sob. Lumine pulls her in for a hug, though Lisa sees the small tear that rolls down the traveler's cheek.

"Oh, Klee. I wish I could've taught you how to make those delicious treats I make you, but I have to leave soon." Pretending to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment, Lisa hums, tilting her head. Then she makes a small "Aha!" before smiling widely. "How about this: Let's make a pinky promise! I'll come back to Mondstadt and teach you how to make those treats, and you have to promise to smile for me."

Klee's face scrunches in confusion, but she extends her pinky to Lisa. "You have to come back! If you don't come back, then I'll be very angry!"

With a chuckle, Lisa wraps her pinky around Klee's. "I will come back, Klee. Then we can make all those delicious treats and eat them together."

The young girl's lips quirk, before she breaks out into a wavering smile. "Mhm! It's a promise!"

Good. Thank goodness. Lisa pushes herself up, only to be met with the one gaze that hurts the most to meet.

"Jean."

The Acting Grand Master squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep, shaky breath. It pains Lisa so to see her like this— barely able to keep herself together.

That won't do. That won't do at all.

"Jean," Lisa tries again, hating how weak her voice sounds. "Look at me, please?"

Jean's bottom lip quivers, but she opens her eyes. "Lisa."

Kaeya takes the hint that the two of them needed some privacy, and quietly ushers the rest of the group out of the room. Lisa takes one last look at her friends— her family— before they're gone from her sight. Venti is the only one who stays.

"My sweet, sweet Dandelion Knight," Lisa sighs, stepping forward to cup Jean's face in her hands. "I'm going to come back to you, so don't mourn me, alright? I'll come back, no matter how long it takes."

Jean breathes out a puff of laughter, eyes downcast. "Please don't give me that kind of hope, Lisa—"

"You don't believe me?" Lisa interrupts with a pout. "I'm hurt. I may not be as powerful as Alice, but I can assure you that I have my ways. So, even when you do feel my absence, know that I will never leave your side. Call to me in the winds that flow through Mondstadt, and I will come to listen." Her voice cracks, and she knows that Jean is hiding all of her devastation, bottling it up until Lisa isn't there to see her break.

"Lisa, I—"

"I love you, Jean." Her voice trembles. It's embarrassing, how fragile Lisa sounds in that moment. "Every afternoon we've spent together, every time we've been in each other's company, every time I've made you tea and stolen you away from your work so you would give yourself some time to breathe," Lisa spills her words, desperate to get everything out before it's too late, "I've loved every single moment I've spent with you. Don't forget to give yourself time to relax, Jean; you need it more than anyone in the Knights."

"Lisa, it's almost time," Venti says softly. "I'll take you one last place before I send you off. Where would you like to go?"

"Starsnatch Cliff," Lisa says without hesitating. "Jean. Don't forget this little old librarian, alright? Or I'll—"

"How could I ever forget you, Lisa?" Jean sobs, tears finally spilling over. She manages to smile, though— a shaky, miserable smile through her grief. "How- how could I forget about the woman I fell in love with, knowing that her life was moving much faster than mine? If I could just find a way to return those years you lost," she rambles, wiping at her tears. "If I could just... save you—"

"Jean," Lisa chokes out, vision blurry. Can ghosts cry, she wonders? She certainly feels like she could cry, right about now. "My lovely Jean, it's alright. It was only a matter of time, so please don't... don't..."

Don't cry.

"Lisa."

Venti steps forward, placing a hand on Jean's shoulder. "We must be going, now. I won't be able to keep her spirit for much longer."

Jean nods, a sniffling mess. "Take... take care of her. Please."

"Of course," Venti responds, before gesturing for Lisa to step closer to him. "Are you ready?"

"That's a silly question," Lisa chuckles, taking Venti's extended hand. A green glow begins to envelop the two of them, and Lisa can't help but keep her gaze trained on Jean, who's watching them go. Jean meets her eyes, and she mouths three words to Lisa. One last time.

"Take care, Jean. I love you dearly."

And finally, the sands of Lisa's hourglass come to rest.

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 85

warnings: uh, mentions of abuse. nothing too big, but just want to throw that out there. hmh masterlist

The shop has been relatively quiet today since it’s the middle of the week, but Grace and Tony are both working the floor and helping anyone who comes through the door. John has called in a few people to interview, but since they haven’t showed up yet, you ran to the deli next door and got a couple of sandwiches.

You peek into the office to see John sitting at the desk and writing on some papers, and you smile to yourself when you realize John is completely at peace in this new element and phase of his life. You have no idea how owning a business even works, and you’re thankful that John seems to know everything he needs to know about it. He takes care of all of the business side of things, like payroll and keeping books on the shelves.

As for you, well, you just do your job like you’ve always done. It’s not the most important job at the shop, but John is always amazed at how good you are at finding the exact book that someone is looking for. He’s also in awe of how you talk to some of the younger customers, and he always smiles when he sees you talking to a kid about their book.

You knock on the door and smile when John looks up, “Got you a sandwich. I got sandwiches and chips for Tony and Grace too. I told them that they could just take a break. There’s like…no one out right now. It’s too hot to leave the house.”

John sits back in the chair and nods, “Yeah, I’m starting to think these people won’t show up for their interviews.”

“They will, baby.” you hand him his sandwich, then you grab two bottles of water from the mini fridge in the corner, “Oh, hey, I forgot! I got you a little something for your desk, well, I got you two things.”

“This is your desk, too.” he says, taking the bottle of water you’re handing to him.

You shrug, “Well, yeah, but you sit there more than I do.”

John chuckles, “Lazy old shop keeper, that’s me.”

You roll your eyes at John as you shake your head, then you hand John the gift bag and sit down in the chair next to him as he opens the bag. He pulls out a mug and laughs when he looks at it, then he sets it on the desk.

“World’s best boss.” he laughs, leaning over to kiss you, “Thank you.”

“And I got you something else.” you point at the bag and smile, “For your desk too.”

John pulls out a picture frame and turns it around to see the picture of you and him from Italy: he’s cupping your face in his hands, and you’re tilting your head back as he leans down to kiss you.

“Great picture.” he says, then he leans over to kiss you. “Look how beautiful you are. God, I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I know, it’s so soon! Literally a week and a half away.” you smile, then you start to eat your sandwich. You look at the picture again, then over at John, “Looks good on your desk.”

John cocks up his eyebrow and smirks, “You know what else would look good on my desk?”

“Ooh,” you tease as John’s hand moves up your thigh. “Naughty!”

John puts his hand over his mouth as he chews, and he looks up as Grace walks into the office. She points at the mini fridge and John nods his head, giving her the okay.

“Oh, my god, Grace, I got you two drinks, but I must have forgotten them there.” you say, and you start to get up, “I’ll go grab them.”

“No, no, no, it’s okay.” she says quietly, grabbing two bottles of water. “It’s hot as hell out, it’s fine.”

Grace’s demeanor has been a little off these past few weeks, and you’re not sure if it’s your place to say anything. You noticed a change in it when the shop opened back up, but she hasn’t said anything to you directly, so you’re not entirely sure how to bring it up.

You watch her closely as she walks back to the front of the shop and hands Tony a bottle of water. They’re eating at the register, which would usually be a huge no-no, but since it’s the middle of the week and no one has been in since 10 AM, you’re letting it slide. You also trust those two enough to know that when someone comes in, they’ll quickly hide their food and they won’t make a mess.

Sitting back down next to John, you cross your legs and start to think of a way to bring up Grace’s change in mood. You don’t want to upset her in case it’s something to do with her mom. You know that she lives with her mom and younger brother in Oyster Bay, and that they struggle a lot of the time since her mom doesn’t have the best job.

“She’s been a little quiet, hasn’t she?” John says softly, “Do you think she’s okay?”

You bite your nail nervously and shrug, “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried. I feel like I should say something, and I genuinely care about Grace and I would consider her a friend, but I don’t know if it’s my place. As her boss now, I just don’t know.”

“Maybe wait a little bit, maybe she’ll want to talk to you about it.” John says, then he looks up when Grace stands in the doorway. “Hey, Grace.”

She gulps and begins to pick at her nails nervously, “Can I talk to you?”

John nods his head and gestures to the chair, “Of course, come in.”

“Uh, sorry…” she grimaces, looking at him, “Not you, John.”

John laughs, “Ooh, I see. You want me to leave.”

Letting out a small laugh, you pat John’s arm, “Don’t let it bruise your ego.”

“Ah, it’s no biggie. I can talk to Tony.” he says, giving you and Grace a genuine smile.

You smile at John as he gets up from the desk and grabs his trash to throw away. He grabs the papers that he was writing on, then he shuts the door behind him when he leaves the office.

“Grace, you can sit down.” you say, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk, “I actually wanted to talk to you, so this is kinda perfect.”

She looks up at you in horror, “Am I in trouble?”

“No, of course not.” you reach for her hand and smile, “Not at all. But John and I have noticed that you’ve been pretty quiet these past few weeks. Is there something going on that you’d like to talk to me about? Something to do with your workload, or maybe your schedule?”

Grace shakes her head, then she reaches for a tissue when she starts to cry. You immediately get up and kneel down next to her, holding her hand tight in yours.

“I broke up with Isaac a few weeks ago, but…” she says, trying to catch her breath, “He won’t leave me alone, and I don’t know what to do. He just keeps driving past the shop every hour and…I’m scared to leave the shop half the time. I think I need to maybe just…quit and get a job somewhere else that he doesn’t know, but I love my job here.”

You pull a chair up next to Grace and reach for her hand again, “Grace, has Isaac ever been…physical with you? You’re safe here, you don’t need to protect him anymore.”

Grace breaks down again and leans over to hug you, “I’m worried that he’s getting that way, to be honest.”

You nod your head slowly, then you look at Grace, “Can I bring John in here?”

“Yeah.” she wipes away the tears on her cheeks, then she fans herself so she doesn’t look like she’s been crying. Her eyes are bloodshot, so it’s obvious.

Opening the office door, you see John and Tony sitting at the register talking, and John perks up when he sees you.

“Jonathan, can I talk to you for a moment?” you ask, and John nods his head. “Tony, you can handle the shop for a few minutes, right?”

He laughs as he looks around at the empty shop, “I think so, Mrs. Wick.”

You and John aren’t even married yet, but you have to admit that it’s pretty cute that everyone here calls you Mrs. Wick. John beams with pride every time someone says it, which is pretty damn flattering.

“Hey, Grace.” John says as he walks into the office, but when he sees her eyes so red and her cheeks flushed with color, he immediately gets concerned.

You sit down next to Grace instead of John, and you reach for her hand, “Grace has told me that she has broken up with her boyfriend.”

John nods his head as he listens to you, then he begins to shuffle through some papers. You can't tell if he's uncomfortable with this conversation or not.

“Jonathan,” you say to get his attention and he looks up at you. “Uh, she broke up with him a few weeks ago, and now he’s…”

“Stalking me. He won’t leave me alone.” she says, sniffling a little.

John exhales loudly as he leans against the desk and rubs his hand over his beard. He exhales again and shakes his head as he shuffles through the papers until he finds the one he’s looking for, “He applied to work here about a week ago. I found his application, but I obviously never called him for an interview. No offense, but he’s a lowlife and I don’t want him around Y/N, and I wouldn’t trust him in here. He’s been kicked out too many times.”

Grace looks at John and shrugs, “I didn’t know that. Listen, I love my job here. Sometimes my mom has a hard time with the bills, and my paycheck sometimes is the only thing that helps keep the lights on and food on the table. Please I need this job. Please don’t fire me.”

“We’re not firing you, Grace. We love having you here. You’re a great employee, you do what’s asked of you, you’re more than willing to come in early and stay later, which we greatly appreciate lately.” John says, then he looks at you for help.

“Grace, we care about you. I care about you. You and I have worked together for a year now. You’re not just an employee or a co-worker, you’re my friend.” you say, smiling when Grace looks at you, “When you’re under our roof here, you’re our responsibility -- all of you are. That’s why we made sure that staircase is safe, the upstairs, we make sure that the stools aren’t wobbly so someone doesn’t fall off and hurt themselves.”

Grace looks at you and smiles, “Thank you.”

You shrug as she looks at you again, “Would you…like John to talk to Isaac? Just talk, nothing more.”

John nods his head and looks at Grace, “I’m willing to talk to him. Tell him to leave you alone. I can even drive you home some nights to make sure he’s not around.”

“And listen, I’m not trying to say that John is coming in here like some knight on his horse to fix everything, but he can be pretty scary.” you say as the memory of Tess’ wedding replays in your head.

“I…can’t ask you to do that, John.”

John gets up from behind the desk and slowly walks over as to not scare the shit out of Grace, “I’ll talk to him and tell him that he’s not allowed here, and that he needs to stay away from you. But I need you to promise that you won’t go back to him.”

“I won’t.” she says, shaking her head. “I promise.”

“Good.” John nods, then he reaches out to hug Grace.

You wipe away the tear on your cheek, then you hug Grace. The bell above the door rings, and you hear several people walking through the door.

“Take a moment to compose yourself.” you say, gesturing to the bathroom. “You don’t have to go out there now.”

“No, I will. I feel bad for leaving Tony out there.” she says, wiping away the tears on her cheek. She stands up and hugs John again, and you can see her almost melting into his arms. It’s probably the first time she’s felt safe in weeks. She opens her eyes and reaches out to hug you, “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” you smile and watch as she leaves the office.

The moment the door closes behind her, you sit down in the chair and put your head in your hands as you start to cry. John pulls the chair up next to you and pulls you into his arms as you wipe away the tears on your cheek.

“I can’t even imagine how scared she is right now. Well, I mean, I do know. Matt stalked me, but I didn’t really know that until after.” you whisper softly, then you look at John, “Thank you for saying you’ll talk to him. I shouldn’t have just offered that though. I feel like I just hired you.”

John smiles, letting out a small laugh, “I love you, and I would do anything that you asked of me.”

“Just talk to him, John. Nothing more.” you shake your head and lean over to kiss him, “Just…scare the shit out of him.”

He nods, “I will.”

“I was thinking we should also give Grace some sort of…bonus. Even just a check for a thousand dollars, just to help her with her mom.” you say, and John nods his head in agreement.

There’s a knock on the door, so you get up and open it to see Grace standing there almost shaking. John pushes past the two of you to walk to the front of the shop when he sees Isaac leaning against his car out front.

“Get my keys.” John says, and you grab his keys off the desk and toss them to him as he walks to the door. He turns around and looks at you, “Stay here, don’t come after me.”

You nod your head as you hold his gaze, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Grace, Tony, and you are all standing at the window watching John as he walks across the street. He doesn’t even get halfway across it when Isaac sees him and gets back in his car. John immediately turns around and gets in his car, then you hear him revving his engine as he drives down the street after Isaac.

“Fuck, he’s so cool.” Tony says, then he widens his eyes when you look over at him, “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. He is cool.” you say, watching John drive down the road, “Pretty damn cool.”

__

John has been gone for nearly an hour, and Grace has been pacing around the shop ever since. You’re worried too, but you’re not really worried about John. You’re more worried about Isaac, honestly. John could easily kill him without even making an effort. You asked John to just talk to Isaac, so you’re praying that that’s what he doing.

Obviously you know that John isn’t just going to swoop in and fix everything -- and neither you nor Grace are expecting that. John can’t fix everything. But if he can scare Isaac enough to make him leave Grace alone, then you’re all for it.

The bell above the door rings when a young woman walks in and you get up to greet her.

“Hi,” you smile, walking over to her, “Welcome to Next Chapter.”

“Hi, I’m looking for John, uh…” she smiles and looks down at her paper, “John Wick.”

“Oh, are you Katie?” you ask.

She nods as she blushes, “I am.”

“Come with me!” you wave her over and walk into the office, “My husband -- excuse me, my fiance, had to go deal with something. I’m not entirely sure when he’ll be back, so I guess I’ll interview you.”

“Oh…okay.” Katie sits down in the chair in front of the desk as she looks around.

You let out a laugh as you look at her resume, “You have more credentials than I do. It says you worked at a book shop in Oyster Bay for four years, do you mind me asking why you quit?”

“I went to school.” she says, putting her hands in her lap. “I decided to take a few classes a week, and I didn’t really have the time or energy to keep a job since I was back in school.”

“Understandable.” you nod.

She chuckles, “I’m lucky enough to have a really great husband. He has a really good job, so I was able to quit and focus on school.”

“You’re married?”

She holds up her hand to show you her ring and smiles, “Been engaged for almost two years, so I just started referring to him as my husband. We were trying to save up money, but with my loans, the house, and just daily expenses, it’s hard to save.”

You know that you’re lucky to be with John and not have to worry about money, and hearing how hard some people struggle reminds you of growing up. Your mom was a single mom and you know how much she struggled. She never even asked anyone for help.

You shuffle through John’s papers that he has on his desk when you remember that he printed off an email from Katie’s old boss. You read through it quickly, then you look up at Katie as she smiles.

“You’ll have to bear with me. My fiance and I just bought the shop not long ago, and he’s much better at this stuff than I am. John would have had you figured out the moment you walked in the front door. He’s very good at reading people.” you look at the email again and smile, “Your old boss speaks very highly of you. He says that he was sad to see you go, but he’s happy that you’re working at a book shop again.”

“I love book shops.” she says, smiling wide. “I love the quiet atmosphere of a small shop.”

“Well, our shop isn’t always quiet. My sister works here, and she's loud.” you laugh, and Katie starts to smile again. “But I get what you mean. I love working in a small shop. You know everyone, and everyone becomes a friend. That’s how it is here anyway. We’re all very close.”

You hear John’s voice in the front of shop, and you perk up a little, then you excuse yourself to see John. When you walk out to see him, you see him with his hand up to his mouth and you walk a little faster to his side.

“Move your hand, baby.” you whisper, pulling his hand away to see his lip is busted open. You sigh loudly, “Jonathan.”

“He hit me first.” he says, then he looks at you as you dab his lip with a tissue, “How bad is it, doc?”

“It’s busted open, John, and it’s bleeding non-stop. You’re gonna need stitches.” you sigh, finally meeting his gaze. “I have someone in the office that I’m interviewing, but I can meet you at the hospital.”

“No, noooo, it’s fine. I’m fine.” he says, taking the tissue from you, and you grab his arm to stop him from walking into the office, “What?”

“You cannot go in there and talk to a potential employee with a busted lip. Just go to the hospital.” you say, pushing him a little.

John finally looks at the tissue and widens his eyes when he sees all of the blood. He nods his head, then you lean up and kiss his cheek.

“I’ll interview her, then I’ll meet you there.” you squeeze his bicep and smile, “I love you.”

“Love you.” John says with the tissue pressed to his lip, and you laugh a little when you can barely understand him.

Walking back into office, you smile at Katie and sit down at the desk. You don’t even know what else you’re supposed to ask when you’re hiring someone. She has great credentials, her co-workers all speak highly of her, and she’s been nothing but nice since she’s been here.

“Uh,” you exhale and try to get your mind off of John. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself, but a part of you doesn’t trust that he’ll actually go to the hospital. “I’m sorry, my mind is suddenly all jumbled.”

“It’s okay! I can come back another day.”

“Honestly, Katie, I don’t know how to even hire people. My fiance does this. I’m hopeless.”

She shrugs, “If I don’t sound too much like a kiss-ass, I think you’re doing fine.”

“Well, thank you for that.” you laugh quietly, “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and just hire you. I think you’d be a great addition to the shop, and I really think you’d fit in well here. My fiance and I are getting married soon and we’re going to start trying to get pregnant, and we really need someone with your experience to help out at the shop so that when the time comes, we don’t have to stress about working when I’m pregnant. So, I think you’d be perfect.”

“Really?” she perks up, putting her hand over her heart, “This is great, thank you so much!”

You shake hands with Katie and walk with her to the front of the shop, and she introduces herself to Grace and Tony. The three of them start to talk as you walk back into the office to grab your purse and keys.

The shop closes in about an hour, but you can’t wait any longer. You want to be with John to make sure he actually gets his lip stitched up. Katie waves at you as she leaves the shop, then you immediately turn to Tony and Grace.

“I’m closing up a little early. I know John very well, and I can guarantee that he hasn’t even gone to the hospital yet.”

Grace frowns a little, “I feel bad. I didn’t want John to get hurt.”

You smile reassuringly, “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be fine, I just need him to get it stitched up.”

Once Tony and Grace get their things, you walk out to your car and get in. You’re thankful that you decided to drive separately from John. You don’t remember why you even decided to, but at the last second, you decided to drive yourself.

“John, you better be at that hospital.” you say to yourself as you start to head in the direction of the hospital.

__

Mill Neck obviously doesn’t have a hospital, or even a doctors clinic. The closest one is in Oyster Bay, and it’s a pretty straight shot from Mill Neck. You park the car and head into the hospital, and you look around the lobby for John.

“Hi,” you smile as you walk to the counter, “I’m looking for my fiance, John Wick.”

“We just roomed him. He said you’d be here.” she says, then she turns around in her chair a little, “Room 3.”

“Thank you.” you smile, then you sling your purse over your shoulder and head down to the room. You knock several times on the door, then you slowly open it to see John sitting on the exam table with a tissue pressed to his lip. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey.” he says, and he winces when he smiles, “Sorry, I’m really happy to see you and I want to kiss you and smile, but it hurts.”

You let out a laugh as you hug him, “It’s okay. I wanted to make sure you actually came here. I know you very well.”

“I almost didn’t come.”

You cock up an eyebrow, “Again, I know you very well.”

The door opens and the doctor pokes her head in, “Hi, Mr. Wick.”

“Hi.” he reaches out and shakes her hand, then he gestures to you. “This is--”

“Stop talking.” you laugh, then look over at the doctor, “I’m his fiancee.”

“A very worried fiancee, I would assume.” she says, then she puts on some gloves and stands in front of John, “What do we have here?”

John finally tosses the tissue into the garbage, and you wince a little when you see John’s lip slightly swollen and bloody.

The doctor clicks her tongue and nods as she looks at John’s lip, “You’re going to need a few stitches, but that’ll probably only be for a few days. I’ll just grab some anesthetic and I’ll get you all fixed up.”

“Thank you.” you smile as she leaves the room.

You look at John and slowly shake your head as he smiles as best as he can. You roll your eyes as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him, and you suck on your bottom lip to keep yourself from kissing him.

“Can’t believe I have to go without kissing you for a few days.” you frown, and John widens his eyes as he shakes his head. “You won’t last one minute the moment you get those stitches in your lip, will you?”

“I’m gonna kiss you the second that I get those stitches in.” he says, then he leans his head against your chest, “My head hurts.”

The door opens again and the doctor steps in, then she puts a new pair of gloves on so she can stitch up John’s lip. She cleans up the blood on his mouth, then she uses a needle to give John some anesthetic to numb his lip. You watch John closely as she stitches up his lip, then she smiles and admires her work, “You’re all done. I have a prescription for some antibiotics, and you can just take some ibuprofen for the pain if you have any.”

“Thank you.” John says, shaking her hand again.

You shake her hand and stand up to leave when John grabs your arm. He leans down to kiss you, but you back away and shake your head.

“Nope, not yet.” you tease, leaning back even more. “When we get home, I promise to give you a very nice kiss.”

You and John walk hand in hand to the front desk, then you head to the pharmacy to get his prescription filled -- you’re definitely going to make him take them since he’s in pain. 

Of course you and John parked on opposite ends of the hospital, so you hop in his car and let him drive you to yours. He parks next to your car as you dig through your purse for your keys.

“I closed the shop a little early, by the way.” you point at the clock, “I was closing at 5 anyway, so I just closed it at 4:30 and let Grace and Tony go home.”

“Oh, yeah, how did that interview go?”

You shrug, looking over at John, “I hired her. She worked at a book shop for 4 years, but quit to go to school -- graphic design. She’s my age, and she’s been engaged for two years. She likes the atmosphere of a book shop, and I don’t know, she seemed nice.”

“You’re a good judge of character, so I’m sure she’s nice.” he says, patting your thigh.

You take a deep breath and look over at John, “I’ll see you at home.”

“I’ll grab us something to eat on the way home. What do you want?” he asks, and you shrug as he smiles. “You’re so cute, always getting so worried about me.”

“I wanna kiss you so bad.” you frown, leaning closer to his face. You brush your lips against John’s and kiss the corner of his mouth to avoid his stitches. “And I also want a burger.”

John laughs, “Okay.”

John watches you to make sure you get in your car, then he waves at you as he drives off. Your phone is ringing in your purse, so you pull it out and put it on speaker.

“Hi, Tess.”

“I have been calling you all fucking day! Where have you been?”

You laugh, “Well, I’m just leaving the hospital and driving home.”

Tess gasps, “Wait, why were you at the hospital? Are you okay? Is John okay?”

“Yeah, John, uh, got punched in the face today.” you laugh, slowing down for a stop light. You look to your right and see John at the light next to you, and you wave at him before he turns the corner to head to get the two of you some dinner.

“Wait, he got punched? By who?”

You laugh again, “You know Grace’s boyfriend, Isaac? Well, she broke up with him and god, long story short, John went to talk to him and tell him to stay away from Grace, and I guess he hit John.”

The line is silent for a moment, then Tess laughs a little, “Did John kick his ass?”

“Well, I mean, people don’t just hit John and…get away with it, so I’m assuming he probably did. John and I haven’t talked about it. His lip was pretty busted, so I made him go to the hospital and he got a few stitches in it.”

“Poor John.” Tess laughs, “Well, I won’t keep you any longer since you’re driving, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m free tomorrow if you want some help with anything.”

“Yes, please! John is finishing the final touches on the pavilion tomorrow too! He’s hanging the lights.” you say, smiling wide, “I can’t believe I’m getting married so soon. 9 days.”

Tess laughs, “I know, I can’t wait. Listen, I’ll let you go. I’ll be over tomorrow afternoon. Love you.”

“Love you, Tess.”

__

Since you’ve been at work and you’ve been wearing jeans all day, you changed into some pajama shorts and a tank top. The house is pretty warm since it’s been scorching all day long, and you turn the air a little lower to cool it down. 

John usually keeps the house pretty cool in the summer since he’s usually a little warmer all of the time anyway, but since the two of you cling to each other at night, it’s turned down just a tad more. John would never admit it, but you do think that he keeps it colder so that you'll ask him to hold you and warm you up.

You’re just coming down the stairs when you see John pull into the driveway, and you walk through the kitchen and open the door that connects to the garage. John hands you the bag, then he grabs the drinks and gets out of the car. He follows behind you into the living room and sets the drinks down so he can take off his shoes. He exhales loudly when he sits down on the couch and puts his hands over his face, and you finally notice his left hand is a little cut up.

Before you even get your food out to eat, you get up from the couch and walk into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You cock up your eyebrow as you walk back out, and John looks down at his knuckles and nods his head.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You sit down next to him and roll your eyes, “Whatever you did before I was around.”

“I suffered.” he says, dramatically.

You get up from the couch again to get a wet paper towel with some soap on it, then you sit back down next to John as he eats french fries. He puts one in front of your mouth and smiles when you look up at him.

“Take it, baby.” he says, and you open your mouth so he can feed you.

You clean up the cuts on John’s hand and bandage them, then you press a kiss to his cuts like you always do. You exhale a little and sit back on the couch to finally eat, and you smile when you open your burger to see that John made sure not to get any pickles on it.

“I know you very well, don’t I?”

You take a bite of your burger and nod your head, “Yes, you do.”

Scooting closer to John, you grab the remote off the table and turn on the TV to look at the weather. It says a cold front is finally moving in and it’s going to be pushing out some of this warm air out, which you’re thankful for since your wedding is soon.

“Huh, should be nice on the 5th.” John says, bumping your shoulder, “Are you excited?”

“I am so excited, I’m a little nervous though.” you say, shrugging a little, “I haven’t been one of those crazy brides or anything. I’ve been pretty calm about everything so far, I think.”

John nods his head and sits up to get a drink, “Yeah, you’ve been really calm about everything.”

“I just hope everything turns out alright with the food trucks, and I hope people don’t think we’re tacky for doing that, but I just hate sit down dinners at weddings. They’re weird. We just sit there and everyone watches us eat, like we’re in a zoo.” you say, and John laughs a little. “Tess and Jimmy had their little buffet style thing and I think that was great, but I think for us, having two food trucks parked out in yard is a good idea. I mean, we didn’t get crappy food trucks from the city. We paid damn good money for these people.”

“We did.” he nods, taking another bite of his burger. “I think it’s gonna be great. We have the taco truck and the pulled pork truck. I think it’ll be fine for a backyard wedding, and all of our decorations are really nice and they’re not like, tacky or anything.”

You sit back a little on the couch, and you and John finish eating in silence as you watch the news. You crumple up your wrapper and toss it into the bag, then you lay down with your head in John’s lap.

“You tired?” he asks, running his fingers through your hair.

You shrug, “A little. I’m sure you are. You had an exciting afternoon.”

John laughs, then he grabs the pillow to put under your head, “Yeah, that little shit got me good.”

“What did you do?” you ask, turning a little so you can see him.

“I went out to talk to him, but when he saw me, he got in his car and drove off. I followed him, and when he turned down the alley, I cornered him and got out to talk to him. He got out of the car and started…running his mouth.”

You sit up a little and look at John, “So, you hit him first?”

“No, ma’am.” he shakes his head, “I didn’t. He started running his mouth, and when I told him that he needed to stay away from Grace, he started saying that Grace always liked me and that I was only protecting her because I like her.”

“Oh, god.” you roll your eyes, “What a fucking loser.”

John exhales, raising his eyebrows a little, “Yeah, anyway, he hit me, so…”

“You kicked his ass.” you say, smirking a little. “I shouldn’t smile, but I just love that you did that for Grace. It means a lot to me that you would do that for my friend.”

“I would do anything for you.” he says, leaning down a little.

You haven’t kissed John in hours, which is way too long for either of you. You’re dying to kiss him and he’s dying to kiss you. His lip is stitched up and he’s taken some medicine for the pain, so you figure it won’t hurt to give him a little kiss.

You sit up a little more, then you straddle John’s waist and wrap your arms around his neck. Licking your lips a little, you lean closer to John and press a soft and delicate kiss to his lips, then you lean back to see if he’s okay. A smile spreads across his face, as he pulls you back to him so he can kiss you, and he laughs a little when you’re so careful with him.

“I’m not fragile, baby.”

You sit back and shrug, “I don’t want to bust it open again, because when I had my wedding in mind, I didn’t really envision my husband with stitches in his lip.”

John frowns a little and nods his head, “Okay, well, fine, I just won’t kiss you for 9 more days.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that we can’t kiss!” you put your hands on his chest as you lean close to kiss him again, “I guess the roles are reversed and now I have to be careful with you.”

John laughs quietly, then he leans back in to kiss you, and he keeps his lips pressed to yours for several seconds. He leans back as he holds your gaze, then he rubs his thumb against your cheek, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you.” you whisper, leaning closer to his face, “9 more days.”

__

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[johannstutt413]

Christmas in the Clouds

(requested by anonymous, who thought this would be cursed...HAH I say. HAH.)

It was Christmas morning, and like most of their employees, the Doctor wasn’t going into work today; they’d polished off most of their work the day before in a Christmas Eve crunch that would make any exec jealous, and now it was time for some serious R&R. They pulled out their trusty rolling paper, tossed in some of their favorite blend of grass, and smiled as they settled into their smoking chair, ready for a comfy evening in their house, just them and the THC.

It was an open secret the Doctor had started smoking marijuana some time after returning to Rhodes Island from their comatose exile in Chernobog; Perfumer, after several sessions with them, had determined they were entirely too anxious to keep up their current pace and not hurt or even kill themselves with a blood pressure spike, so she’d put together a blend of medicinal herbs - including marijuana, yes - to calm them down and prescribed it under the pseudonym “Smoke Balm,” which she got approved through Aak to minimize the number of questions asked by medical personnel. The best part, in the Doctor’s mind, was how easy it was to get more; Lena and Podenco grew the individual ingredients for a variety of other blends for other Operators, and they were more than willing to top the stash off whenever their boss asked them to, which meant the Doc essentially had a year-round season pass to Zootsville whenever they felt like. It was heavenly.

That morning, however, wasn’t the best to start high off their ass, as the knock on their door signaled. They stood up, albeit a bit shakily, set their joint on a silver tray on their chair arm, and answered the door to find...Lena? “Good morning, Doctor...Did you forget about the Christmas party?”

“The what?” They blinked. “We have one of those?”

“Dr. Kal’tsit sent the invite out two weeks ago. Did you not get one?”

They thought for a minute, but there wasn’t really any hope of them remembering at this point - that blend did good work, fast. “Uh...”

“Regardless, I was hoping you and I could go together.” She smiled. “Especially since it seems you’ll need someone watching you tonight, as I imagine you’ll be taking your afternoon dose as well.”

“Yeah...sorry, I didn’t know.” The Doctor wasn’t sure why they were blushing. Maybe from the heat from holding the smoldering herbs to their face?

Perfumer pat them on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Doctor. Next time I plan on asking you on a date, I’ll do it earlier. See you tonight~”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” She left, and a few minutes after they sat back down, it clicked what had just happened. Maybe they shouldn’t smoke the second one today…

About ten hours and three joints later, the Doctor was going on a vision quest in the main hall as Lena led them around, arm in arm. The lights shone brighter, the music sounded more in-tune, and the Vulpo on their arm looked absolutely stunning, but in spite of all of that, there was a gnawing pit in their stomach that something wasn’t right...or maybe they were just hungry.

“The kitchen staff aren’t serving dinner until later tonight,” Perfumer explained as they walked to the snack table, “but this should be enough to tide you over for now. I’m going to get us some punch, okay? Stay by the brownies until I come back.”

“Okay.” They waved to her as she went off, which was apparently enough to earn a blush, before turning to the brownie plate and picking it up off the table.

Aak arrived around three brownies later, looking oddly dapper in his party get-up. “Hey, dude. Man, you look wasted; how many puffs did you take before you got here?”

“...Uh...” Were they supposed to answer with a number?

“Ah, whatever; I won’t stop ya from having fun.” He winked at them. “Waitin’ for my date, too. Can I get one of those?”

The Doctor looked at the brownies, frowned, and handed them the plate. “There you go.”

“Thanks, man.” The Feline took two and handed back the plate.

“Hey...” They counted the number in his hand. “That’s not one.”

Aak laughed. “I rounded down, man, don’t worry ‘bout it. Guess you got nervous about your speech, huh?”

“...Speech?”

“Yeah! You’re the boss, after all.” He laughed at the expression on the Doctor’s face, but after a moment he realized he wasn’t joking, and the Feline suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the poor bastard. “Shit, man, they didn’t tell you anything, huh?”

They shook their head. “I didn’t even know we had a party today.”

“No wonder you’re so out of it. Well, you’ll do fine, so don’t think about it too much.”

At that point, Warfarin arrived; if looks could kill, she’d’ve slain most of the room by now in that scarlet dress of hers. “Good evening, Doctor. Aak, you’re not bothering them too much, are you?”

“No more than a nibble on their neck would.” He grinned as she thumbed him in the center of his forehead. “Gotta go, my guy, but good luck tonight!”

“Yeah, man...You, too.” The Feline steered his Sarkaz date away from the Doctor, who suddenly had a real concern on their plate. What kind of speech was it supposed to be? And how do you give a speech when you can’t remember the sentence that came before the one you were saying just then after you said a sentence and forgot about the other one?...Wait, hadn’t they already thought that?

Perfumer returned with two tall plastic cups and handed them one. “There you go, darling...Is everything okay? You’re sweating now.”

“Aak said I have to give a speech tonight.” They gulped down the punch. “I’m not ready.”

“Ah, yes, the speech. I wrote one for you this afternoon.” She reached around the back of her dress and pulled out a set of note cards.

The Doctor set their empty cup on the table and hugged her. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Lena’s face was now a Christmas light in and of itself. “I also spiked your punch.”

“Wait, what?” They let her go.

The Vulpo smiled back at them. “It’s a counter-dose for the Smoke Balm in your system. It’ll take some time to take effect, but by the time you need to make your speech, you should have all your faculties back.”

“Wow...You’re amazing.” That overloaded her systems, but the Doctor couldn’t tell in their current state. “Hey, is there somewhere I could sit? I’m kinda dizzy.”

“Ah, yes, the side effects...Coming down so quickly might fatigue your body extra. Let’s find somewhere to wait for the antidote to kick in.” She took their arm again, blushing more than she had in her life, and led them to a circle of chairs that, at first, was completely unoccupied.

Once people saw the pair sit down, however, they began to fill in around them; Podenco sat next to Perfumer, which meant Myrrh and a few others from the garden crew did as well, while Gravel took the seat next to the Doctor with a wide smile on her face. “Good evening, Doctor. How’re things?”

“Things? Things are good.” Lena was distracted right then, but that probably wasn’t a big deal. “How’re your things?”

“Good. I’d like to show you something, if you’re not busy~”

They shook their head. “Not really, but I gotta sit for a bit.”

“Oh? That’s fine.” The Zalak pulled a piece of mistletoe from somewhere and dangled it between them. “Here is just fine~”

“...I don’t get it.”

She giggled. “You don’t know? When two people are under mistletoe together, they have to kiss. It’s the law.”

“It is?” The Doctor looked over to Perfumer. “Hey, Lena? Is it a rule that people under mistletoe have to kiss?”

“Hmm? Why are you-” The Vulpo looked over, saw Gravel attempting to steal their date, and glared at her.

The Zalak cocked her head. “Is the Doctor with you tonight?”

“Yes, they are.” She held out a hand to the Doctor. “We’re on a date.”

“Is that true, Doctor?” The knight turned back to her mark-

-who’d plucked the mistletoe from her hand and was now eating it. “Piney.”

“...Doctor?” Perfumer giggled. “Well, I suppose you’re not under it anymore.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” They kissed Gravel’s forehead, which left her steaming in her chair.

Lena blinked. “I...hmm.”

“What?” The Doctor did the same to her. “Now I’m the mistletoe.”

“I...I suppose you are, but...why are you kissing everyone’s forehead?”

They shook their head. “Not everyone. Only if they’re shorter than me.”

“...Okay, then.” She stood up, letting go of their hand. “I need to use the restroom. Stay here until I get back, okay?”

“Okay.” As they walked off, the Doctor could feel the high wearing off as everything turned a little more grey, a little more quiet...or was that because their eyes were closing?

A few hours later, the Doctor woke up, still in the corner, with no one anywhere near him. They glanced around, confused. “Wait, wasn’t...wasn’t there a party?”

“There was.” Perfumer walked in from off to the side. “You slept through the rest of it. No one asked you for a speech after all - apparently Amiya does those now. Are you ready to go home?”

“...I’m sorry.” They really were.

She shook her head. “I should be apologizing, Doctor; I didn’t realize the antidote had a side effect-”

“I shouldn’t have had four Balms in the first place.” They sighed. “I’m a terrible date, and a worse person for making you drag me around like that.”

“Doctor, you didn’t make me do that. I wanted to.”

The Doctor looked up at her. “You did?”

“Of course.” Lena smiled at him, although it was a little shaky. “You’re my patient, after all.”

“You know you’re more than that to me, though, right?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“...You’re sure?” They stood up, holding out a hand. “You don’t seem confident in that.”

“I...the mistletoe stunt hurt, but I knew better.” She didn’t take their hand.

So they took hers. “Lena-”

“It’s fine.” The Vulpo’s eyes fell to the floor. “We aren’t actually a couple, so I-”

“Lena, look at me. Please.”

Perfumer looked up - and sprouting from the Doctor’s head was a sprig of mistletoe. “...Huh?”

“I don’t need this to kiss you.” They snapped it off their head and threw it behind them, into a smoldering fireplace which flared dramatically as the plant made contact. “I want to do that anyway.”

“Oh, Doctor~” She leapt into their arms to accept their kiss-

-and punched their arm to wake them up. “Doctor? You fell asleep.”

“...Did I?” They groggily looked around. The party was still going on, but it did feel like it was winding down. “Sorry. I think the Balm’s wearing off.”

“That’s good.” She was apparently cross with them in real life as well as in their dreams. Reality is often disappointing like that.

The Doctor turned to Lena. “Did something happen with mistletoe earlier?”

“...Nothing important.” The Vulpo looked back at them, completely neutral, as she stood up. “Dr. Kal’tsit said your speech is in ten minutes. I’ll take you to where you’ll be giving it.”

“Thank you...I’m sorry.” They followed suit.

She shrugged. “Sorry for what?”

“For making you work on Christmas Day.” That earned them a curious work. “And on our date, too.”

“It’s not work,” Lena protested.

The Doctor took her hand. “It hasn’t been a date, either...I’ll make it up to you.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.” Perfumer looked off to the side before they started walking. “I knew what I was asking for.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated. The Doctor’s closing message is about to begin.” Dr. Kal’tsit said as she saw their HR head and primary tactician approach the raised platform she’d had set up for the night’s festivities.

The Vulpo patted the pocket where she’d put the speech cards. “Just read that and you should be fine. I’ll be sitting in the crowd with everyone else.”

“Okay.” They took a deep breath, and suddenly the world was brighter again. “Wait, what the-”

“Doctor, would you please come up to the microphone?” The green-haired Feline surrounded by knives - wait, knives? - called to them.

They walked up the mile-long staircase to the mike and looked out into the sea of blood and ashes- looked out into the audience, including Lena, who flashed them a thumbs-up. The Doctor cleared their throat, took a deep breath, and began to read.

“As the end of the first calendar year since my return comes to an end, I look at what we’ve accomplished as a company, and I couldn’t be more proud of each and every one of you. I know that even before my return, you were hard at work, and you set a strong foundation for me to capitalize on, which I can’t thank you enough for. Since then, we’ve created a strong working partnership with Lungmen, initiated trade deals with multiple city-states, repelled Reunion forces from several locations and secured trade routes, stopped a volcano - a fricken volcano! - from erupting and burying a city, prevented a hostile takeover of Lungmen by the Rat King and his forces, and fought injustice and prejudice at every turn. It’s impossible for me to thank each and every one of you for your contributions, but as this year ends and another one begins, I hope to at least be able to return the effort and good faith you’ve given me and this company with my own.”

Applause...and then an awkward pause as the Doctor stood there, contemplating their next action before continuing.

“Truth be told, my own investment has been...lacking, I feel. Shortly after returning, I developed a chemical dependency which very nearly jeopardized this evening.”

Murmurs from the crowd.

“Going forward, I promise I will be fully present and engaged for gatherings such as these, as I refuse to repeat this sort of mistake...and to my date for the evening, I’d like to apologize with every fiber of my being. Let’s grab a burger or something tomorrow. My treat.”

Louder murmuring, which instantly fell silent when Lena called out “Sure!” from the back of the audience.

“Alright, now I’m done.” They chuckled. “Have a good night, everyone. Try to not get caught under the mistletoe at the wrong time, okay?”

A few people in the know broke out into laughs as the rest awkwardly applauded; Kal’tsit returned to the stage and announced the party was over, and as quickly as they’d taken their seats, the crowd scattered.

Except, that is, for Lena and the Doctor, who took their time walking arm-in-arm to her apartment. “You didn’t need to do that, Doctor; I knew you didn’t intend for the evening to go the way it did.”

“I want to be held accountable, so I decided to get the whole company involved. Besides, it was a convenient way of making sure we scheduled a second date.”

“Ah, clever.” The Vulpo giggled. “I would have agreed no matter how you asked, of course.”

They smiled back. “Of course...Well, we’re here. I should probably get some sleep now; I did a real number on my body today.”

“Oh, I’m sure...but are you sure you want to go all the way home to do that?” Perfumer didn’t let go of the Doctor’s arm as she swiped her keycard through her dorm’s card reader.

“Hmm...well,” the Doctor admitted, “I suppose I can stay for a little bit. Having a medical opinion of my condition would be nice.”

Lena nodded. “Oh, yes, I agree. I’ll be sure to give you a thorough examination.”

“...You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Gravel scared me with that mistletoe stunt,” she admitted, “and scent marking might not be as effective as I’d hoped. If you’d rather not-”

They spun around so they were holding Perfumer in the threshold, unlinking their arm so they could hug her instead. “I never said that. I’m just surprised you’re okay with moving so quickly.”

“You can never be too careful around Rhodes Island, Doctor, but you can be too cautious.” She hugged them close, gently leading them backwards into her apartment.

“True.” They pulled the door shut behind them once both were past the threshold. “Merry Christmas, Lena.”

Lena slid the Doctor’s mask aside with a finger and kissed them, eyes glittering in anticipation. “Merry Christmas, Doctor dearest~”

[razieltwelve]

The Last Hurrah (The Vestige)

“Ma’am,” Lebreau murmured. “We need to evacuate.”

Lightning stared at the holographic display. Eden City’s Eidolons were all locked in mortal combat against the most powerful fal’Cie in recorded history. There were four Category Vs and a Category VI. Even with Chaos, Spira, Shiva, and Bahamut on the battlefield, it just wasn’t enough. The Category Vs were holding the Eidolons at bay while the Category VI advanced toward the Ark itself.

“Clever bastards,” Lightning whispered. “They’ve worked out that we’re the ones in charge. They’re not prioritising the Eidolons anymore. This isn’t a raid or a conventional offensive. It’s a decapitation strike. If they destroy the Ark and wipe out our command and support structure, they don’t need to kill the Eidolons to win.”

“Ma’am,” Lebreau repeated. “We need to evacuate now.”

“There’s no point.” Lightning pointed at the holographic display. “Look.”

The Hawks and Knights had engaged the Category VI, Tyraneant, in a desperate bid to beat the colossal fal’Cie back. It had to be at least twice the size of even the largest of the Category Vs. It lashed out with speed that should have been impossible, knocking the aircraft out of the sky with its tail or tearing them to pieces with its claws. There was a brief flash of light before a shockwave rippled outward, pulverising all of the remain aircraft and shaking the Ark to its foundations.

“Even if we tried to evacuate, we wouldn’t get far.”

“We can’t just stay here,” Lebreau pointed out. “All of the Eidolons have already been deployed. There aren’t any left to defend the Ark.”

Lightning’s lips curled. “We still have one.”

“What?” Lebreau’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious...”

X    X     X

Nora rushed after Lightning as the marshal hobbled down the corridor as fast as her bad leg would allow. “Marshal, this is insane. If you get into that Conn-Pod, you are going to die.”

Lightning didn’t bother to stop as she replied, “And what would you suggest, doctor? If we do nothing we are all dead, and trying to flee isn’t going to help. We’d be lucky to last five seconds against that thing.” Tyraneant had continued its advance. The Ark was pummelling it with every weapon it had, but the titanic creature continued to press forward. The Ark’s Eidolons were still locked in combat against their opponents. By the time any of them were in a position to help, it would be too late.

“Can’t someone else pilot?” Nora asked. She reached out and grabbed Lightning’s arm. “Lightning! You don’t have to do this! It doesn’t have to be you!” “Who else is there?” Lightning growled. “The cadets are too raw. None of them have seen any real combat, and you want them to go up against a Category VI in an unfamiliar Eidolon? You might as well line them up against the wall and shoot them.”

“Is you getting into the Conn-Pod any better?” Nora hissed. “You’re a mess, Lightning. We both know that. Your brain is... the damage you took from solo piloting Odin years ago never fully healed. If you’re lucky, you might last five minutes before you have a seizure, a stroke, or an aneurism. This is suicide.”

“Five minutes is better than nothing.”

“How will you pilot? You can barely walk. There’s no way you’ll be able to actually operate the controls.”

“Dr Dia,” Lightning snapped. “Is the support ready?”

Vanille winced. She’d been trailing after the pair, unwilling to insert herself into the argument. “I mean... it works... and it hasn’t melted the brains of any of the volunteers, but I’m not sure...”

“Get it. Bring it to the preparation room.”

“What are you two talking about?” Nora asked.

Vanille made a face. “I might have been working on a neurally operated prosthetic that can be attached to someone’s leg to support them. Assuming it works properly, it would give the marshal the leg strength needed to operate an Eidolon.”

“And it’s neurally controlled?” Nora threw her hands up in despair. “As if connecting your brain to the Eidolon isn’t bad enough, you’re going to connect it to a prosthetic as well? Forget five minutes, Lightning. I doubt you’ll have even three.”

“Why are you so against this?” Lightning shrugged off the hand Nora had put on her shoulder.

“Because you’re my friend, damn it.” Nora grabbed Lightning again. “And I don’t want to see you die in a Conn-Pod. I’ve seen what solo piloting does to people. I know more about your medical history than anyone. You are going to die if you get in there. Doesn’t that matter?”

“Not when you weigh it against everything else.” Lightning’s jaw clenched, and she continued down the corridor. “I watched my parents die - my whole home city die - because I wasn’t strong enough to do anything. I promise myself that day that I wouldn’t let it happen again.” She snarled. “If this Ark falls, then Eden City will fall with it. I refuse to let that happen. If it takes my life to hold the line, then that’s what I’ll do. Now, you can either help or get out of the way.”

X    X     X

Lightning shivered as the connection to Odin activated. How long had it been since she’d stood in a Conn-Pod. Wrapped around her damaged leg, Vanille’s prosthetic gave her the strength to stand unaided. 

“We’re not getting a stable connection,” Lebreau said over the communications channel. “Marshal... you’re not connecting to Odin well enough to pilot.”

Lightning’s jaw clenched. She hadn’t come this far to fail. “Come on,” she whispered. “Amodar always used to say that we left something of ourselves behind whenever we piloted. I don’t know if there’s a bit of me or a bit of Serah still here, but if there is, I’m begging you, please. You didn’t fail me all those years ago. Don’t fail me now. Even if it’s just this one time, even if you never move again, I need you to move now.”

Maybe it was her words, or maybe it was just the connection taking some time to warm up, but she felt the connection deepen. For a moment, she was back in the shallows off Bodhum, her leg mangled in the wreckage of Odin’s Conn-Pod as she screamed her hate and fury at SIN. And then the moment passed. Shadows danced at the edges of her vision, and the Conn-Pod was filled with the echoes of a thousand half-remembered conversations.

“How is the connection?” Lightning asked.

“It’s... well... it’ll do,” Lebreau said. “But are you sure about this?”

“As sure as I can be.” Lightning swallowed thickly and willed Odin to move. “Clear the area around the main doors. I’m going to greet our guest.”

X    X     X

“How are her vital signs?” Lebreau asked Nora.

“A mess.” The doctor’s expression was grim. “Look at her brain scan.”

It was customary to keep track of a pilot’s neural activity during piloting. Green was good. Red was bed. Lightning’s brain was a single mass of angry red.

“How is she even still conscious?” 

“I don’t know. Her brain scans looks like someone in the middle of having a seizure. I have no idea how she’s still standing, never mind piloting.”

“I guess she’s just too stubborn to die,” Vanille said. The other two women stared.

“What?” Vanille asked. “We were all thinking it.”

X    X     X

Tyraneant braced its claws against the massive blast doors that protected the Ark and pulled. Ten thousand tonnes of alien muscle strained, and the doors began to give way. A cruel gleam entered the monsters eyes. It was not intelligent in the way a human was, but it could still savour the prospect of victory.

And then the doors jerked all the way open.

And two thousand tonnes of humanity’s finest weaponry smashed into the fal’Cie. Odin slammed into Tyraneant at a full sprint, somehow pushing the titan back despite the disparity in weight. As the fal’Cie staggered to get its balance back, the Eidolon drew one arm back.

Electricity crackled along the robot’s fist, and a rocket ignited at its elbow. With the force of ten jet planes, Odin’s Thunder Knuckle caught Tyraneant right on the point of its chin. The fal’Cie’s head snapped back, and its knees sagged. A dozen giant teeth flew through the air, and the water lapping at the base of the blast doors hurtled outward as the shockwave of the blow rippled through the air.

A massive blade unfolded from a holster on Odin’s back. It was the prototype Blazefire Sabre 2.4, a plasma-edged weapon designed to cut through just about anything. It had yet to see widespread deployment since the power demands were so insanely high that it couldn’t operate for more than five minutes at a time in the field.

Lightning likely had less than five minutes before she collapsed, so that was perfectly fine.

As Tyraneant finally got its bearing back, the huge sword swung down. The blade bit deeply into the monster’s shoulder and jammed, unable to cut cleanly through the unbelievably dense flesh of the Category VI’s body. Tyraneant’s tail swung out, and Lightning had no choice to let go of the sword or lose the upper half of her Eidolon to the blow.

As the tail reached the end of its arc and slowed before coming around for another attack, Odin’s left fist transformed. This was another prototype weapon - a rail gun built into the Eidolon’s arm and deployed by retracting its wrist to create a suitable barrel. Lightning jammed the weapon into Tyraneant’s chest and fired.

A tungsten-tipped pole weighing roughly ten tonnes hit the fal’Cie’s chest at close to 65 miles per second. The impact had energy output comparable to a 10 kiloton tactical nuke. Of course, there was a reason Odin was the only Eidolon with a weapon like this. Dr Dia had never quite been able to work all of the kinks out. Firing the rail gun at full power instantly slagged most of the interior of Odin’s left arm. 

There was a brief alarm in the Conn-Pod before the entire limb went dead and unresponsive. Lightning didn’t care. She couldn’t possibly hope to beat a Category VI in a fair fight, especially with a time limit. She had to sucker punch the bastard and keep it off balance if she wanted to have any chance of winning.

The rail gun blew a hole right through Tyraneant chest and out through its back. The exit wound was a terrifying sight to behold, a vast, crater of mangled flesh that took up most of the colossal creature’s back. As Tyraneant staggered, one of its secondary brains completely destroyed, Lightning reached out with Odin’s working arm and grabbed hold of the Blazefire Sabre. Already, she could feel the buzzing in the back of her head, the swarm of angry bees that told her that her time was running short.

Not yet.

Just a little bit longer.

She wrenched the weapon free and then drove it up through Tyraneant chin and into its brain. The fal’Cie quivered, its whole body thrashing at the sudden onslaught of damage to its brain. Yet even with a sword driven through its brain, the creature refused to die. It’s tail swung round and ripped Odin’s left arm off at the elbow. Another savage swipe of its claws cleaved through the armour on the Eidolon’s chest to expose its core. Radiation spewed out of the gap, and the Conn-Pod became a nightmare of alarms and warnings.

Lightning grit her teeth. She was losing power. Odin’s reactor was doings its best, but it was haemorrhaging energy into their surroundings. Another swing of the monster’s tail cracked Odin’s left leg and shattered the right leg at the ankle. Hobbled, crippled, and with only a single working limb, Lightning bet everything on her next move.

The rocket on the elbow of Odin’s right arm ignited one last time, and she drove the Eidolon’s fist up and into the hilt of the Blazefire Sabre. Odin’s knuckles shattered, and half a dozen fractures raced through the super structure of the right arm, but the limb had struck true. The impact drove the Blazefire Sabre up and through Tyraneant’s skull, completing tearing off the top and front of the fal’Cie’s head.

For a long moment, there was only stillness as Eidolon and fal’Cie alike remained locked together before the gigantic monster toppled back and sank into the shallows just off the Ark.

X    X     X

“Son of a bitch...” Lebreau whispered as the entire command deck stared in awe at the battered figure of Odin slumped against the blast doors. “She actually killed that thing.” She grinned. “And it looks like the others aren’t doing too badly either.”

With their leader dead, the other fal’Cie seemed to have lost confidence, and the Ark’s Eidolons were finally on the front foot.

“Lebreau...” Lightning said. “The... target... is... is... is...”

“She’s slurring her speech,” Nora looked around. “Lebreau! Cut the connections to Odin now!” She shot to her feet. “Get a med-evac team to Odin and someone start prepping the operating theatre.” When nobody moved, Nora grabbed the closest person and simply shoved them at the communications console. “Stop standing there and do what I said!”

X    X     X

They’d won, but Fang could help but feel like a failure. The fal’Cie had managed to separate the Eidolons from the Ark, allowing that behemoth of a Category VI to lay siege to the facility. Somehow, Lightning had managed to get back into Odin and pilot him long enough to kill that damn thing.

Even now, just thinking about it made her shiver. Lightning hadn’t piloted in years. With her brain still damaged from her last mission and her leg only working because of Vanille’s prosthetic, the marshal had somehow found a way to win against an opponent she should never have been able to beat.

But the cost...

Nora had operated on Lightning for close to eight hours.

“It’s a miracle she’s alive,” Nora said, peering through the glass at where the marshal was hooked up to far too many machines. “I didn’t think she’d last three minutes piloting, but she lasted a solid four.”

“How... how bad is it?” Fang whispered.

“We don’t know if she’ll wake up,” Nora replied grimly. “And even if she does, we have no idea if she’ll even be coherent, never mind able to walk or talk. We’re not talking a bit of minor brain damage. We’re talking about massive, systematic damage across most of her brain. Quite frankly, we’ve done everything we can. All we can do now is hope.”

“Shit.”

“Pretty much.” Nora’s lips twitched. “But Vanille said it best. The marshal is too stubborn to die. We just... we have to hope she pulls through this too. If anyone can do it, she can.”

X    X     X

Author’s Notes

This scene is a rough version of a battle that takes place near the end of the Vestige. Since Pacific Rim: Uprising was so horrific it basically obliterated my will to go on with Pacific Rim crossovers, I thought I’d post up some of the ideas I had, so people can get a feel for where things would have gone.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here. I’ve recently released two stories, Attempted Adventuring and Surviving Quarantine, as well as two audiobooks, Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Army of Golems, Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire, and The Hungry Dragon Cookie Company. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check them out.

[bssaz97]

“Call Me Back Part 3”

*Wallwood, The Next Day*

Young Woman: Mister Denver, you have a vista or here to see you. They say they’re Beacon Officials.

Denver: Oh! Send them in please!

As the mayor’s receptionist opens the door two figures walk in. One is a older woman with whitening platinum hair and piercing emerald green eyes. The other is a young looking man with black hair, a tan complexion, and hazel eyes. Denver recognizes this as Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch and her assistant Oscar Pine from the newly reopened Beacon Academy. Standing up from his desk, Denver goes to greet the two visitors.

Denver: Ms. Goodwitch, it is a pleasure to see you in my humble village. How may I be of service to you.

Glynda: Thank you Mayor Denver for having us, I only wish it was under better circumstances.

Denver: Yes...I’ve been told about the investigation about the whereabouts of Mr. Arc. If there’s anything I can be of service to you, ask away!

Oscar: We’ve been told about the disappearance by a friend of ours, I’m sure you remember Ruby Rose calling you yesterday morning.

Denver: Oh yes, I remember that conversation very well, it’s honestly been on my mind for sometime. I’ve talked to Mr. Arc very briefly but he seemed very dedicated to his fiancé, she was all he ever talked about.

Glynda: If we may Mayor, would be able to remember any places that Jaune Arc was lodging at during his stay at the village, places he went, and people he may have talked to while in Wallwood?

Denver: Well I could give you the address of where he was staying but for who he talked to, you will need to ask around I’m afraid.

Glynda: That should start our investigation well enough. Thank you Mayor Denver we appreciate your cooperation.

Denver: My pleasure Ms. Goodwitch! I hope you are able to find him.

Both Goodwitch and Oscar leave the mayor’s office and make their way outside. After being given the address of Jaune’s lodging they go to the local inn and ask the owner for permission to investigate the room. Once the owner agreed they make their way up to the room assigned to Jaune during his stay and opened the door. As they expected the room was cleaned up and everything looked presentable for when new guests come to rent the room.

Glynda: Drat! Just as I thought they cleaned the room of any evidence by now.

Oscar: Not necessarily. (Walk to the middle of the room)

Glynda: Oscar, the room has probably been changed much to often for you to pick up anything from here.

Oscar:(Looks back at her) You’re probably right but I still need to give it a shot.

Oscar inhales briefly while closing his eyes, reaches behind him to grab the same old cane passed down to him by his predecessor for safekeeping. He raises it a few inches off the floor, then once the exhales he brings his cane down. Doing sends a green glow around the room for a brief moment, then recedes back to Oscar as he opens his eyes. He turns back to Goodwitch with a frown on his face.

Glynda: What did you see?

Oscar: Nothing to help our investigation, or help us find Jaune quicker.

Glynda:(Breathes in then out) Oscar, I know that this may be hard for you to hear but...I don’t think we’ll be finding Jaune Arc-.

Oscar: We will find him, I’m certain of it. I was able to sense where he was planning to go, the only problem was he would have to go along the Woodland Trail passage.

Glynda: I see. So it seems like we will need a larger search party than just the two of us.

Oscar: Nothing to fear though, I just contacted Penny awhile ago, said she was willing to help us out with eyes in the sky.

Glynda: ...Hmph.(Smiles) Sometimes I forget that you have a thousand year old mind inside that head of yours. Always thinking ahead.

Oscar: I try my best.

Glynda: Well come along, we’ll have better chance of finding him when we have daylight.

Oscar: Yes mam.

*Few hours later*

The group of hunters, volunteers, and a flying maiden spend a good part of the day looking for any trace of the missing Jaune Arc. Many were friends of his and Ruby; like Lie Ren, Nora, Blake and Sun. Other volunteer included some of the villagers of Wallwood who had volunteered to help with the search. The light of day was starting to disappear, as was many’s hope of finding any indication of where the blonde knight may have went. Oscar usual optimism was starting to fade into worry. They had search almost every part of this path and they couldn’t find anything. As we was getting a bit frantic in his search, he heard a noise from above. Upon looking up Oscar sees Penny descending to the ground.

Oscar: Please tell me you found something Penny.

Penny: (Struggles to look at his eyes) I...I did....But I’m afraid you won’t like it.

Oscar felt a dark feeling in his stomach and hope it wasn’t what he thought it was. Soon after Oscar told the group over comms that Penny something and soon began to follow after as she leads the way. The feeling in Oscar’s stomach starts to grow as he starts noticing the forest around them begin to look more... battle scarred. Eventually they follow Penny as she leads them to an opening in the forest...there truly was no words to describe what he was seeing.

Around them the entire scenery was cleared, but not from natural causes. There was a familiar smell in the air of battle. Trees knocked over or cut down, patches of ground where areas were scorched, and a very ominous crater. How could anybody have missed this, this clearing was very near Wallwood so why didn’t anyone take notice of fighting.

Sun: Gods. It looks like a war zone here.

Blake: How did nobody notice this, there’s no way that people didn’t hear this happen.

Oscar: We can ask those questions later, right now we need to see if Jaune was a part of this struggle or not.

Penny: Oscar...this isn’t why I brought you here.

Oscar: What?

Penny signaled him to follow him and once the go behind one of the trees in the middle of the clearing. Oscar sees Goodwitch standing there, with her glasses off and wiping her eyes with her free hand. They make brief eye contact and Oscar follows where she was looking at before....and wished he hadn’t.

Oscar:(Backs away) No...no, no, no, no, no... (Covers his mouth)

Glynda:(Walk over time her assistant and places her hand on his shoulder) I truly am sorry. I...I wanted to be weong too.

Glynda walks away from him as Oscar tries to process this as best he could but all that was coming to his head were memories. Cherished memories of his younger years when he first met team RNJR, Yang, Weiss and Qrow, how they began their journey to stopping a plot to destroy mankind. Many of these memories have Ruby and Jaune as focal points, the two being role models for him and soon became greater friends he could ever hope to gain. However, right now, he was staring at what was essentially the lifeless corpse of someone he had grown to call a brother. There were so many emotions coming over him, pain, anguish, sadness, anger, and all these things made him want to empty his stomach.

Oscar feel something taking his hand and looks down to see a black gloved hand encompassing his own. He looks at the owner and sees Penny with a almost misty eyed looking expression. She tightened her hold of his hand.

Penny: I’m sorry for your loss.

‘Loss’...it was at those words that he truly began to feel dread. It wasn’t just him that will suffer from this revelation. He can overhear Glynda giving the news to the rest of the group, and he could hear Nora practically struggling to get past Goodwitch’s semblance to see her fearless leader. It hurts his heart to hear Nora began breaking down into sobs as she tries to deny what she had been told. Once freed, Oscar can hear Ren taking hold of Nora as she crumbles on the ground. The others not much better, understandable as they knew Jaune longer and felt crushing grief as even Yang gave way to tears. It was then that a crushing truth that hadn’t occurred to him yet. ‘Ruby.’ Her fiancé was dead... how could he face her after she practically begged him and the others to find him and bring Jaune back to her. From this Oscar began groaning within himself and he too starts to give way to tears. Not only or his loss, but everyone’s. Especially Ruby.

*Two Month Later*

Ruby woke up from her slumber, once again to see a empty space in her bed, something she still found hard to grasp. Just two months ago she attended the funeral of her fiancé Jaune Arc. She had no words to describe the crushing pain she felt that day, only that it didn’t go away. A lot of her friends and family came to attend. Jaune’s family was there too, but she didn’t have the strength or the courage to face them. She didn’t feel she had any right to face them, feeling too grieved and ashamed of facing his parents. Saphron and Terra gave her their condolences, which was nice but honestly it didn’t make her feel much better.

How was she to supposed to get better after this. This wasn’t the first time she had a death of someone close to her; her mother, Phyrra, Maria. But honestly this felt much heavier blow. Be a after her mom, Jaune was the one fill her life with so much love and she wanted to spend every moment of it with him. But now he was gone....she was alone again.

Ruby: Why...why him...(Crying)

*Knock! Knock! Knock!*

Yang: Rubes? You awake?

Ruby didn’t respond just continued to cry into her pillow. Much too grieved to give her sister a response. However, Yang took this as a sign to enter and once she came in she saw the state of her sister, Yang looked down and sighed. Once Yang makes her way over to the bed she nudges Ruby’s elbow.

Ruby: Go away....

Yang: Rubes you gotta get up and do your exercises, you’ve been laying down for weeks on end.

Ruby: (Pushes her head closer to the pillow) Please just leave me be...

Yang: Look I know you really don’t want to but you got to get up, it’s not good to stay just sitting here while you’re in you last trimester. The doctor said so.

Ruby: The doctor can go fuck herself.

Yang was taken aback at Ruby’s plain unfazed use of a swear, as she almost rarely, if she ever used one.

Yang: Ruby....

Ruby: Yang please I... I’ll come out in a bit...just....leave me be...I don’t feel like doing anything right now.

Yang: ....Ok. Ok, I’ll be waiting down stairs for you ok. Just be there whenever you’re ready.

Yang walk away from the door and steps to the side where she could see Ruby remain unmoved on the bed. She knew that she wouldn’t go on much longer than this. Ruby needed someone to help her through her grief, but her inexperience witb this sort of matter, Yang knew there was only one person to help her sister out.

*The Next Day*

Ruby was sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers and pickles of all things, she’ll never understand why she craved them now but she didn’t care. Her hair had grown down to past her shoulders and was mostly unkempt. She was watching another rerun on the Holo-TV when she heard a noise.

*Knock! Knock! Knock!*

Ruby: Yaaaaaang! Can you get the door!

Yang:(From the Kitchen) I’m making your next meal sis! Sorry but you’re gonna have to get the door at some point! Besides you’re closer.

Ruby:(Groans) Fiiiiiinnneee! But for the record, I’m the one carrying two babies in me you know! So don’t blame me if I need to get my legs massaged again!

Yang looked in the corner of her eye to watch as Ruby stood gently up to stand on her feet and walked towards the door. Yang hid her smile, phase one was complete. Now she just needs to count on phase two to work.

Ruby walks towards the door at a moderate pace while holding the wall and makes it to the door slightly out of breath. Secretly cursing Yang for making her walk her all the way over to the door. She opens the door and to her surprise she sees someone who she hasn’t seen for a good few weeks.

Ruby: Dad?

Taiyang: Hey Sweetie, hope you don’t mind your old man dropping in do you?

Ruby: N-no, not at all come on in.

The two make their way inside her home and find themselves in the living room where Ruby originally found herself in, the only exception was her dad was there. For a few moments neither of them said anything, just comfortable with the normal silence.

Taiyang:(Clears Throat) Well it looks like you have a nice place around here. I know I don’t come by to often. Not since, well you know.

Ruby:(Looks down) Mmmph.

Taiyang: I see you decided to grow your hair out?

Ruby: Oh yeah, I don’t...haven’t had time to go out of the house lately. (Coughs) Would you like some water or anything Dad?

Taiyang: Sure if you’re offering.

As if she read their minds, Yang came to the living room and brought them two glasses of water.

Yang: Here you go! (Leaves to go back to the kitchen)

Taiyang: Thanks my little sun dragon!~

Ruby:(Giggles lightly) You know she hates that you still call her that.

Taiyang: Well I’m her father so I can still call her whatever I please. Doesn’t matter if she’s grown or not!

Ruby:(Giggles) ...So what’s this visit about?

Taiyang: What? Do I need a reason to see my baby girl as she’s about to have babies of her own.

Ruby: So there’s isn’t a particular reason why you’re stopping by.

Taiyang:(Scratching his neck) Well I didn’t say that....How are you holding up?

Ruby:(Breathes in) Fine. I’m as good as I can be. (Avoids looking at him)

Taiyang:(Tries to look at her face) You know sweetheart, you never were a good liar.

Ruby:(Stiffens) So...what if I’m lying. Is it so wrong to hide what I’m truly feeling...

Taiyang: No, no! Of course not. I understand why you’re feeling this way.

Ruby:(Looks at him critically) Do you? Do you really Dad?

Taiyang: ...More than you know.

Ruby holds her breath, in that moment she saw in her father something she hadn’t seen in awhile. Understanding.

Taiyang: Ruby...When I first lost your mother, I felt like I was stuck in place. Like I wasn’t living reality anymore and I was stuck in a dream that I never would wake up from. I didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere because I was afraid I would have to face the fact that...she was gone and never coming back. I have a feeling that you’re going through something similar right now.

Ruby: I.... I-It’s so hard to just...do anything anymore. Everytime I look at my scroll I feel like I want to pass out. I...was so angry when he didn’t call back... I-I ‘sniff’ what if I-I’m the reason he...I was trying so hard to talk to him that I didn’t even consider that he may have been in danger... I let myself be so stupid and think that he was the bad guy in that instance that I didn’t even bother to check up sooner on how he was doing! I-I killed him Dad! I didn’t call anyone until it was too late and now HE’S GONE BECAUSE OF ME!

Ruby brought her hands to her face, to cover her face as she wept intensely. Immediately Taiyang hugs his daughter into his embrace. Whispering sweet nothings to her, doing his best to comfort his grieving daughter. After nearly twenty minutes of crying Ruby had began to calm down or as calm as she could. Once she does, Taiyang takes his baby girl’s face in his hands and so she could see him for what he’s going to say.

Taiyang: Listen to me sweetheart, you are not to blame for what happened. You didn’t know and no one could have known what would happen. It is not your fault! I know it’s a hard thing to do but you need to have mercy on yourself.

Ruby: I don’t know how...it feels like in a deep abyss that I can’t crawl out of...I-I can’t do this on my own.

Taiyang: Ruby, you are never gonna be alone. You have me, Yang, and all of your friends who are here for you. They know you’re in deep pain but you have to let them help you to heal, even if it feels painful to bring up those hard moments.

Ruby: ‘Sniff’ Is...is this feeling ever going to go away?

Taiyang: That’s the thing about grief sweetheart...it never fully goes away. In time it lessens but at some points it’ll come back at full force. It’s something you are going to be battling for a long time. So...do you want to start fighting back?

Ruby: ....Yes.

Taiyang places a piece a paper in her hand that looks aged but still readable.

Ruby: What’s this?

Taiyang: Something I wrote down to help me during my tough days. I think you may need it more right now more than I ever did.

Ruby holds the piece of paper close to her and hugs her dad tightly, which he reciprocates.

Ruby: Thank you Dad.... I really needed that.

Taiyang: Anytime my little bud.

Ruby smiles she looks to read the message and she reads it out loud.

Ruby: “I forgive myself, I forgive my weakness, I forgive my my actions. I am prone to mistakes, I am not perfect, I’m only human. It is ok to feel sad, but I do not let my sorrow consume me. I am strong not for my strength, but to admit my weakness. But most importantly... I still love myself...as those who have loved me” ‘Sniff’ You wrote all this?

Taiyang: To be fair I did read a lot of books while you two were younger so I had time to make a summary of it.

Ruby:(Giggles) You’re such a dork!

Taiyang: Hey I’m your dad, it’s my job to be a dork at times. (Places his hand on her left shoulder) Anytime you feel the need to cry or talk things out, my door is always going to be open to you.

Ruby: Thanks Dad....hey did you spill some water on me when you hugged me from before?

Taiyang:(Looks to see his water glass on the table) Um...no? Why?...oh. Oh! Oh my gods Ruby I think your water just broke! Yang Ruby’s water broke we need to get her to the Hospital!

Yang: Wait really?! Shit! I’ll get the car ready!

Ruby: What?! (Looks down to see a large wet area in her sweat pants) Oh god! It’s happening right now?! I’m not ready!

Taiyang: I’m sorry little bud, but I don’t think those babies are going to wait. Come on just take my hand and we’ll get you there soon.

Ruby:(Following her Dad) Oh! I just got out of my funk!

-End of Part 3; will be concluded in Part 4 -

*Please don’t hate me! Another cliffhanger see you next time!*

[sabraeal]

Knock Three Times (Meet Me in the Hallway)

Written for @youseimanami‘s birthday, who requested some fallout for Obi sharing the knock with Zen. Last year, Viki’s birthday fell less than two weeks after the birth of my son, and thus I didn’t have the headspace to even attempt a birthday gift (I *just* managed to get Laura’s in like a week before my C-section, an entire month late), but this year hopefully 3K and a nice, on-time birthday gift will make up for it :joy: 

Obi will grant: the tree isn’t the easiest climb.

Master had taken a running jump, shoving his foot in a divot in the bark as he grabbed for the first branch. It’s not low, not at all, but the fork in the trunk makes for a good hand hold once a palm’s wedged in there, and three nights ago he’d barely had to bother with a standing hop to get started.

Not tonight.

His side stings, a hundred wasps buzzing through his nerves, and oh, that blade had caught him a bit deeper than he’d thought. His fingers clap tight around it, and ah, yes, there’s a sticky heat that clings to them when he pulls away.

He grimaces. Miss won’t be happy about that.

He can see it now, those glass-green eyes turning stormy, mouth pulling thin right before she takes a breath to scold--

His mouth curls. At least, one can hope.

With a steeling breath-- tttt-- he backs up a step, swallows his pride, and follows Master’s lead. One sole bounces him off the bark, hand wedging deep in the fork, and then he’s up, shuffling out to where the branches brush at iron and glass.

The limb dips threateningly under his feet. Obi sighs. Master doesn’t have problems like this.

The window is shut tight, latched, just like he’d told them. Eisetsu promised to keep them safe, but no matter where he says his loyalties lie, Obi won’t forget how he tricked him here, how keeping Miss and Ryuu at the estate while he ran off to deliver the lord’s message was little better than holding them hostage for good behavior. Besides, there’s no need to count on his lordship when Miss can look out for herself.

He leans in, raising a hand. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap.

There’s no answer.

Obi shifts, stomach churning as the branch bobs under him. It’s dark inside, not even a single light in the parlor, but-- it’s late. There’s no reason to think he’d be back, no reason for them to sit up, waiting for him to return. No reason for there to be warm dinner on the table, Ryuu slumped over on the sofa as Miss turns to greet him--

He shakes himself. There’s no time for that. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap.

The tangle in his gut knots, rising to choke him. There’s no need to panic; it would take an army to rouse Miss when she’s sleeping, and though he’s never tried to wake Ryuu-- that boy gives a whole new meaning to early bird-- he can’t have napped under a pharmacy desk for years and been a light sleeper.

Still, still. He reaches for his tools and is glad his hands never learned to quiver like his heart.

It doesn’t catch the first time. Lock picking is about finesse, about patience, and ultimately about the correct application of force, but all that is lost to him when he keeps trying to peek through the glass. It’s useless anyway, he doesn’t see anything but the shape of ornate, uncomfortable furniture and his own reflection.

Finally, it turns over, window pushing into his hand. Obi guides it open, braced for a squeak or a groan, but it seems hinges are one thing Eisetsu keeps well maintained. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the rest of his security.

He slinks through, throwing one long leg over the sill before pulling the other to join him, dropping down into a crouch. There’s no toppled furniture, no sign of a struggle, but there’s no signs of life either, each table scrupulously clear of the sort of mess that follows scholars no matter where they go.

It takes a moment for his eyes to truly adjust, but even so, every missing cup of forgotten tea fans his suspicion. He’s only been gone a few days, but so much can happen in mere hours, too much--

White grabs his gaze. It’s a sheet, wrapped tightly around a small body--

It’s Ryuu. He’d recognize that shock of hair anywhere, no matter how much he’s cut it.

With his heart in his throat, he approaches. Ryuu’s bound tight in the blanket, wrapped like a larvae in a cocoon, arms and legs locked beneath it. Anger flares hot in his belly; someone must have subdued him, not willing to take him when they only needed Miss.

Obi’s hand trembles as he reaches out, fingers seeking the pulse at his jugular-- who knows how long he’s been here, minutes or hours or maybe even days, Obi arriving far too late to--

Ryuu snuffs as skin brushes skin, annoyed, and flops over onto his stomach. His limbs sprawl, spilling over the sofa’s edge onto the floor.

A breath hisses through Obi’s teeth, half-relief. Not dead, then. Not even concussed. Just a teenager.

That handled one of them. But Miss--

(I don’t want to rush you, but come back quick, she’d told him, eyes too large in her face.

She’s not supposed to look at him like that; it’s Master who is her savior, not him. Afraid you’ll miss me?

I know I will. There’s something in her face that won’t ease, that won’t leave her. I won’t sleep well without you.)

Ryuu might fall asleep sprawled across the sofa, too young to keep vigil, but Miss would be up, a lamp burning well into the night, wearing a runnel in the carpet. She’d want to be there to open the window at his knock and tell him welcome home--

He shakes himself. That’s only if she knew he was coming back, if Master had somehow found a messenger faster than him-- impossible, even waylaid as he was-- but still, the worry won’t leave him. Wrongness permeates the darkness, and Obi’s lived far too long to ignore instinct.

He turns the corner, heading down the hall, only to be pulled up short by the spray of light that fans across the carpet. It’s her room-- or his room, really, though there’s no point to pretending much longer. Not when Eisetsu already knows.

His lordship could be in there, even now, pressing his suit. After all, what is a knight next to a peer?

Obi grits his teeth, eyeing the shadows that flicker across the carpet, and brushes his hand over the grip of his knives. Eisetsu would have to be an idiot to ask a favor of a man and then woo his lady out from under him. Quite literally, in this case, if his lordship still thought he’d interrupted something more intimate than a shared bed.

(Could you relay a message to your master? His lordship’s eyes dart around the room, almost as if marking the exits. I seem to have gotten myself into a...one might say, sticky situation.

He raises a single brow, arms folded over his banyan. Oh?

The man stutters out a quivering laugh. Ah...yes. A, um, political one.)

He shakes his head. At least the steward might talk him out of something so stupid.

A shadows passes before the door again.

Obi’s eyes narrow. Or not.

Rising up to his full height, knight’s swagger in place, Obi swings open the door--

Only to be greeted by Miss’s startled gaze on the opposite side of the room. “Obi!”

She’s alone, only a single lamp burning on the desk, but it pales to the way her face lights as she sees him, as she takes a step toward him--

And stutters short. Her glow gutters, and she shrugs her shawl tighter around her shoulders, ducking her chin as if even though her nightgown’s flannel she is chilled.

“I’m home,” he says into the still between them, heart pounding so loud in his ears he’s sure she can hear it.

Something in her thaws, mouth softening as she meets his gaze again. “W-welcome home.”

There’s a runnel in the carpet, the pile askew. It leads from where he stands at the door to where her feet lay pressed together, bare. The tightness in his chest releases, as he takes a step into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft snick.

“I tried the knock at the window.” Every word he picks is carefully plucked, lain before her as if on a platter. “But no one came.”

“Oh.” His offering must not please his miss, for her mouth pinches, drawing thin across her face. “I didn’t know if it was you.”

He blinks, head cocked. “Miss?”

“I mean, since you’ve been showing other people,” she explains hurriedly, pulling her shawl even tighter. “I wasn’t sure if I should answer.”

The air between them is tense, charged, and Obi has no earthly idea why. “I only showed Master.”

“I wasn’t sure.” Her shoulders twitch in a nervous shrug. “I thought it might be Eisetsu.”

“Eisetsu?” he spits out. He’d hardly trust the man with a lamb and a cabbage, let alone his miss.

“It made sense,” she says, shoulders curling defensively, and it hits him-- she’s angry. “You were doing him a favor. Maybe you thought it would be safer if--”

“If I gave the man with all the keys somehow even more unguarded access to you?” He tries to keep his voice level, calm, but he knows by her flinch hasn’t quite managed it. “Miss, a favor does not a friend make.”

“I know that,” she murmurs, the line of her shoulder tense, almost braced.

He wants to shout, wants to snap, and you think I don’t, but--

But he breathes instead, letting the fight seep from him. An argument is never the quickest cut to his Miss’s knottier points. “Miss,” he sighs, “have I given you some reason to think that I would be--” stupid-- “lax with your safety?”

She blinks, some of her anger fading from the shadows of her mouth. “N-no! I know you always do what you think is best.” She hesitates before she adds, softer, “Even if you don’t tell me about it, first.”

For a solid minute, he’s stymied. Years ago, he’d have taken the lump-- fresh from his tenure with the underground, he’d had little faith in anyone’s cleverness but his own-- but no one knows better than him how adept Miss is at her own survival. She’d even been the one to propose the knock--

The knock.

“Are you--?” His teeth snap shut around the question. It can’t be. There’s no sense to it. But still, still--

It’s the only thing he can think of. “When I gave Master the knock,” he starts again, left-footed, every word feeling wrong as it falls from his lips, “I thought you would be happy to see him.”

Her cheeks flare a telling red, and no, no, he has to be reading this all wrong-- “I--I was! I just...”

Obi dares another step closer. “You just...?”

“It’s nothing,” she insists. “It’s only that...”

Her breath catches, knuckles blanching where they grip her shawl. “It’s supposed to mean I’m safe.”

“Master’s safe too.” The words leave him before he can think, a certainty. But Miss’s lips twist as they hang in the air between them, and his ears roar with the rushing of his blood, so loud he can’t hear himself ask, “Isn’t he?”

“He is.” The words burst from her too quick, too rote, too little feeling being them. “I only mean...”

He needs her to speak, to explain this all in a way that might make him make sense of it, to assure him that what he’d thought about Master all those years ago when he’d arrived too early from Yuris could not be true. “Miss?”

Her chin lifts, gaze tangling with his in a way that is almost defiant. “He’s not safe the way you are.”

He can’t help himself, he takes another step forward, and then another, reaching out to close the space between them--

“Ow,” he hisses, pressing a hand to his side.

Miss stares, and, ah yes, that would be blood blooming from his gash, of course. Perfect timing. “Are you injured?”

“Ah-ha, only...only technically.” he grimaces as she flutters close, slender fingers prodding at the wound. “It’s just a scratch, Miss.”

Her mouth pulls thin. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

A thrill goes through him, and he can’t help tacking on a wry, “Yes, Miss.”

The glare she flicks up at him is unamused, which only makes his heart flutter faster in anticipation. It’s been far too long since she’s scolded him--

“Go sit on the bad,” she says, twisting him around, “I’ll tend to it.”

Obi lets out a graceless honk. “But I’ll bleed on it!”

He may not like Eisetsu, but that’s no reason to give his domestic staff more work.

Miss scoffs, giving him a firm shove. “I’m sure the maid knows how to get blood out of the sheets by now.”

He stumbles with a squawk, nearly tumbling onto the bed as she fetches her things. “Miss.”

“I know he’s a bachelor, Obi, but there were plenty of women at that party,” she informs him matter-of-factly, digging through her things as if the implication she’s making is usual for her, “and people have periods all the time!”

A laugh huffs out of him. “Ah, that wasn’t quite where I thought you were going with that...”

Her head darts up, cocked in question. “What did you--?”

“Ah!” He waves his hands, warding off her questions. “Not anything you need to worry-- ah--” he hisses, dropping his arms the moment one swings too far-- “about.”

If anything, her expression turns even more grim, marching over to the bed with kit in hand. “Take off your shirt.”

“Miss,” he whines, but it’s far too late; when she fixes him with that stern look of hers, there’s nothing for it to obey. He peels the black cloth up his torso, wincing as he pulls it away from his side, and submits himself to her tender ministrations.

That is, until she pulls out the brown bottle, clear liquid sloshing around the glass. “Uh-uh, I don’t want you near me with that when you’re mad.”

His nose stings when she pulls the cork. “I’m not mad,” she informs him primly, soaking a clean scrap of cloth. “I’m perfectly fine. I’m reasonable.”

“Oooh.” He ducks in close to her, grinning. “You’re super pissed.”

She jerks back with a frown, and then with no fanfare at all, presses the cloth straight to his side.

“See?” he hisses, squirming beneath her hand. “This is only proving my point.”

“I’m helping,” she tells him crossly. “The sting means it’s working.”

He hums, unconvinced.

“You’re lucky.” She lays his hand over the cloth and turns to rummage through her kit. “It doesn’t need stitches.”

“Ah.” It’s not wise, but then no one ever accused him of playing it safe-- “So it was just a scratch?”

His only warning it a displeased glower she gives him before she lays her hand over his and presses. The sting shoots coldly up his spine, and ah, yes, she’s made her point.

Miss busies herself with preparing the bandage, and her movements are so familiar, so soothing, that he lean back on his hand, eyelids fluttering shut. Even with his eyes closed he can see her, tracking her progress through the soft sounds of her practice. There, she’s unwrapping the bandage, and there, the grind of her prepping the salve--

“It’s different.”

He jolts back to awareness, gaze dropping to the back of her head. She’s bent over him, face hidden against his side. “Miss?”

“Zen,” she tells him. “He’s not...he’s not my home.”

His heart had sunk into its familiar lull as she worked, but now it races again, so fast he’s sure she can feel it under her fingertips. “He’s not.”

“No,” she murmurs, touch suddenly hesitant. “Not like you are.”

Obi hardly trusts himself to speak. “Me?”

Her eyes dart up to his, and then scurry away. “A-and Ryuu, of course.”

“Right,” he breaths, dragging her gaze back to him. “And Ryuu.”

Her breath shivers out of her, and the way their gazes tangle, green twining into gold, is too much, too earnest. He’s paralyzed by it; any other woman he would know what to do with, what this tension meant, but with Miss--

“There you are!” Eisetsu calls out, bursting into the room.

There’s only a moment to make a decision, and Miss is already jolting away, but if this man expects a pair of young lovers, well-- Obi knows exactly what to give him.

His hand darts forward, fingers hooking behind her ear, and it’s nothing to pull her closer, to lean into her until their lips touch and his mouth swallows her gasp.

“Oh!” Eisetsu flounders graceless at the door. “I didn’t think I would be interrupting.”

Miss pulls from with a pant, giving him a guarded look before insisting. “You weren’t! We were only...”

There’s no easy explanation, so Miss crosses the floor to her bags, making herself busy.

Obi can’t help but let his mouht tilt smugly as he says, “We were only catching up.”

“Ah, yes.” Eisetsu is not so pale as Master, but he flushes just as prettily. “We should also be catching up. I mean-- what was it your master said?”

Obi mouth bears down in a grimace. “Funny you should ask...”

[haurchefantblog]

The Worst Kept Secret in Ishgard Part 1/Chapter 2

Mor’s heart raced watching him run up the grassy path of the Sea of Clouds, sword and shield at the ready, the moonlight dancing off his armor. 

“Haurchefant!” She shouted happily, despite evading the hora of a particularly large Vanu tribesman. She dealt with him quickly and closed the gap between her and the newly arrived troops from House Fortemps. 

“My lady Mor!” Haurchefant shouted just as cheerfully back at her before knocking back a Vanu with his shield. She smiled wide, unable to stop. He beamed back. “I could not leave you to all the fun!” 

“Pray, have your fill!” She jested, though in truth, she was glad for his aid. Finally! Someone wanted to help. 

Later on, aboard the airship back to Ishgard, having evaded their enemy for a time, not even the news of a new primal was enough to dampen her spirits. They stood side by side, facing out over the airship railing. 

“I’m grateful ye came when ye did. That ye came at all,” Mor said, trying to control the hair that flew around her face. 

“You sound surprised,” Haurchefant smiled and watched her intently as she brushed the hair out of her face and pulled it to one side. 

“Surprised? I suppose,” her words trailed off as she watched the clouds disappear behind them. Realizing her mistake her eyes grew wide and she shook her head at Haurchefant’s lost expression. “Not surprised that ye showed up! I mean, Honoroit said he was getting help for Emmanellain. I knew someone would come. I did not expect ye, necessarily. Ehm. No…” She inhaled and exhaled to clear her thoughts, and shake the building nervousness from her. “What I mean...is that usually when someone shows up it is after the battle is over. When people want to fight beside me it is generally...up until a point. When ye showed up, I was surprised. Pleasantly.” 

She hoped her words would suffice as an explanation. He laughed his silly giggle before clearing his throat and smiling at her warmly. 

“I didn’t come for Emmanellain. I knew the moment I heard you were with him that he was in excellent hands,” he said softly. Mor furrowed her brow. 

“Then...why?” Mor asked. 

“I should think it would be more obvious,” Haurchefant’s smile tweaked slightly and his own brow furrowed giving his look a bit more mischief. “I have never been very good at keeping quiet about my desire to fight by your side, even if you don’t really need me, there is nothing I would like more. My men tell me I should be more wary in matters regarding the Warrior of Light,” Haurchefant paused, staring into her eyes for a moment before continuing. “ But secrets don’t suit me.” 

The colors in her memory were far more vivid than any she saw before her now. There was a gray haze around her world since he had left it. She remembered distinctly how much she had wanted to reach out to him then, on that trip back to Ishgard; to tell him that he could fight by her side any time he pleased, how she would appreciate it--cherish it. But their moment was interrupted by their arrival at Ishgard and there were already several guards and knights awaiting them at the airship landing to guide them to their next duty. Always something else to do. She was never given a moment. She never had a chance to tell him. 

-------------

Francel’s well-intended words fell like heavy weights on her chest. She was shaking her head; her entire body was shaking, cold with anger. 

“Why are ye telling me this?” She practically screamed the words at him, unable to feign any semblance of composure. Did he not understand how much it hurt her?

“Because you said there were words left unsaid. And because if you continue down this path, you will not be the woman worthy of the love he so eagerly bestowed upon you. You would not be the woman I had to hear about incessantly for moons. Because you needed to know.” Tears were staining his cheeks now from his own memories stirring painfully in his mind. Francel watched as Mor’s expression became void of any discernible emotion.

“I killed Thordan. I killed Zephirin too. Killed the lot of them,” Mor said in a low tone. 

“Yes,” Francel confirmed the fact that had spread throughout Eorzea more than a week ago. 

“I used my bare hands to end each of their lives. They were numb, and my muscles were aflame and yet I could not stop myself. I did not want to stop myself.” She finally looked to him. 

“I am already unworthy.”

Francel’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“You delivered justice to--” 

“No! It was not justice, Francel. It was revenge. I wanted them to suffer. For what they did to Haurchefant. I wanted them to suffer as I have suffered since they took him! And I made it so!” Her jaw was clenched and she stared down at the cup of broth on the ground, now barely lukewarm. 

“Mistress Coronach, absolutely no one would hold that against you. You did what had to be done. Thordan was--” Francel was saying in what Mor took to be a diplomatic tone. She wanted to shake him, to make him understand. 

“No one has to! No one can measure the morality of my deeds but myself. I did not kill him because it needed to be done, I killed him because I wanted to. I killed Haurchefant’s murderer because I thought it would make me feel good. Intent matters Francel. It has to! And if ye see me walking a new path, it is because I am lost. It is because I do not know what to do anymore. Why am I the Warrior of Light when I can succumb to these base urges? When I am willing to crawl down to the level of my enemies, as wretched as they are, how can I be a hero? The brightest star I have known has burned out and I was helpless to stop it. My title means nothing. I am nothing.” These words had been on repeat in some form or another, in the back of her mind since this all began ages ago at the Waking Sands. 

She thought herself past doubt and self-deprecation. The last time she had uttered these same words was in front of Haurchefant, and it was he who had brought her back from the self pity and self-loathing. But he was not here now. He was not here. 

Tears were hot on her cheeks again and she looked back at the fire. The flames flickered seductively; inviting, just as the snow had looked earlier, soft and welcoming. Mor shut her eyes quickly. Since the moment Haurchefant grew limp and cold in her arms, not a day had passed where she did not desire to join him. 

[mysmeloveandmore]

RFA Reacts to MC who doesn’t talk about her problems

-Yoosung-

- The two of you were fairly easygoing with everything in your lives.

- Spending nights playing LOLOL while eating some leftover dinner that he’d worked so hard to make.

- You always helped him with whatever he needed.

- However, when you had a problem, you preferred to deal with it on your own.

- That’s just how you were, how you’ve always been.

- It’s just never come up in conversation.

- So there was never any need to worry.

- You two didn’t really fight, so what did it matter?

- Then one day, you’re in the middle of something extremely important when he bursts through the door, raging about one of his professors.

- You’re quick to act, trying to calm him down, but literally nothing is helping this boy.

- I. Mean. Nothing.

- You were typically a very patient, easygoing person… But this? And the fact that he had kept trying to ask what was wrong to avoid the subject entirely?

- The two of you had been trying to hash this out for two hours without leverage, and you were at your limit.

- Finally, he snaps first.

- “MC, why aren’t you offering any real help this time? You’re so good at this, come on! I need help! And why won’t you talk to me?!”

- “You know what, Yoosung? I’ve been sitting here, busting my ass trying to help you, and all you do is sit there and try to come up with excuses of why nothing will work! So you know what? Figure it out your damn self!”

- (Oh. My. God.)

- His cutie has just snapped.

- You left him sitting there and walked out. You needed some air.

- He followed you.

- “MC!” He was running to catch up to you, but you kept going. You knew you needed to distance yourself before it became worse. “MC, wait! Please!”

- You didn’t wait. And he didn’t catch up.

- He was a wreck.

- Sobbing as he made the agonizing walk back to his place, his face in his hands. (He thought you left him.)

- He made it to the bedroom, somehow…

- Still sobbing, he looked around to find nothing but traces of you everywhere, which only broke his heart more.

- Wondering what he did wrong, he started to panic.

- Panicking and crying, he found himself pacing. He wanted to talk to you, to beg you to forgive him, but he didn’t know where you were. (You even left your phone behind)

- After a few hours, you returned.

- He’d stopped crying, but his face was red and swollen, with a numb, dazed look on his face.

- “Y-Yoosung?”

- Hearing your voice, desperation and hope roared in his violet eyes. He was quickly on his feet and running to you, falling to his knees and taking your hands in his shaking ones.

- “M-MC, I… I’m so sorry! P-please d-don’t leave me! I-I’ll do b-better, I-I p-promise!”

- He was crying all over again, but you calmly pulled at his hands to get him to his feet, giving him a reassuring smile.

- “Let’s sit down, okay? I think I need to explain.”

- He was terrified that you were validating a break-up, but he meekly nodded and followed you to the sofa, sitting at the edge of the cushion beside you.

- “Yoosung, listen. I… I love you, I want you to know that first. And I’m not leaving you, okay? So, just breathe for me, all right?”

- The breath he had been holding shook upon exhale, but he nodded and bit his lip to let you continue.

- “I never had any intention of leaving, but I had to cool off. I like to deal with my problems in my own way without having anyone else get involved. And having someone, anyone, try to get involved with my issues is just something I’ve never been able to deal with. Do… do you understand? Does that make sense to you?”

- He was silent, letting your words sink in for a few minutes before realization brightened his face.

- “So it’s like… it’s like when there’s an event on LOLOL that’s based on solo skills to get the legendary item?”

- You giggled. (Well, that’s one analogy)

- “Kind of, yes. So the next time I’m having a problem, please… Let me handle it.”

- He sighed, almost deflated but utterly relieved you weren’t breaking up with him.

- “Al- All right, MC. But the first sign I see that it’s becoming too much for you to bare…”

- “Then I’ll try to remember to come to you.”

- A smile, and he took you in his arms. “Thank you, cutie. That’s all I ask.”

-Zen-

- Ever the reliable one.

- Striving to be the perfect boyfriend.

- And in general, he was. Doting, loving, always taking care of you, always there when you need him.

- Even times when you didn’t.

- It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his efforts.

- Quite the contrary. You loved him so much and always knew that no matter what, he’d never give up on you.

- And you loved that about him, too. The two of you could talk about anything, and it just felt so natural, as if you two had known each other all your lives.

- But when you needed to be alone, to sort out your own personal dilemmas, it almost drove him crazy.

- He wanted to help you, so you wouldn’t have to go through anything alone. (Sometimes, my sweet prince, it’s not that simple)

- And most of the time, it was easy to accept his help. You two were so at ease with one another, it was just one more natural thing between you.

- Except…

- The days you wanted to settle your issues alone, he was still there.

- Even though you knew it wasn’t a bad thing and you knew all he wanted to do was alleviate some of the weight on your shoulders, a certain switch flipped every time he tried to pry.

- Just a brief little tsk at first before you grit your teeth, willing the urge to tell him to back off to go away.

- But he kept coming.

- “Jagiya, come on, I can help! Really! Let me-“

- “Zen, knock it the fuck off already! Can’t you see that I’m handling it? Let me deal with my own problems, all right? If I want your help, I’ll fucking ask for it!”

- A flurry of emotions flew through his ruby eyes. Defensiveness, anger, pain, worry, but the biggest one?

- Pain. And it stayed there, even as the others dissipated.

- You stormed off, to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you as his mouth hung open slightly.

- He didn’t understand the outburst at first. You were the most laid-back person he had ever met. What did he do? Could he fix it? Should he approach you?

- His feet had him moving toward the door before he even gave it a conscious thought. Just as his hand was extended for the doorknob, he stopped, dropping his hand with a sigh and pushing his hair back.

- There was the hope that you just needed a moment, that you would explain later. He knew those moments. (Taking off after the Echo Girl scandal without so much as one word of when he’d return)

- Defeated, he went to the sofa, picking up a script for a new role to occupy his mind until you were ready to talk.

- It wasn’t working. His legs bounced, his hands clenched and opened as he kept rolling his head around to try and focus. Nothing worked.

- Him leaving you to yourself was driving him insane, going against every bit of judgement he had at the situation. He wanted to be the man who fixed your troubles, no matter how small you perceived them to be.

- You left the room a couple hours later to find him pacing, the strain on his face evident with his inner turmoil.

- He thought he’d done something wrong that he seriously needed to make up for.

- When he saw you, the pain was still there, but there was more concern and worry etched into his statuesque face.

- “Jagi, I…”

- “Zen, I’m sorry,” you started with a sigh. “I snapped at you when I shouldn’t have, but I need to talk to you.”

- He nodded and gestured to the sofa, but the tension was clearly knotting in his shoulders as the two of you sat down.

- “I love you, Zen. That will never change, but I’ve been so used to dealing with things on my own for so long. Every time someone swore to help me, they either lied or did it for their own selfish reasons. I’ve come to rely on myself.”

- He opened his mouth and you raised a hand for him to let you finish.

- “And now, it’s become habit. Something that has nothing against you whatsoever. Please, please bear with me when I get like this, okay? You’re there through everything, and I love it more than I can say. I’m just used to fighting my own battles.”

- A long, heavy exhale left him, but he nodded, his eyes hopeful. “I love you too, princess, and I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I just want to be your knight, but if this is what you want, I’ll respect your decision.”

- You pulled him into your arms, embracing him to you tightly. “You’re already my knight, you silly boy.” You left a sweet kiss on his jaw, turning his face that adorable shade of pink.

- “Jagi…”

- Oops. (Release. The. Beast!)

-Jaehee-

- To be honest, Mama Bear doesn’t really discuss her problems unless she feels they are extremely important to the situation at hand.

- But… her method is to use a simile, not to truly bring her scenarios to light.

- You understood her, though, and you two were happy.

- While she was take charge and no-nonsense, you complimented her by being the easy-going one.

- That wasn’t to say you were lazy. Quite the opposite.

- She was Yin and you were Yang, neither of you able to exist without the other because there was something the two of you possessed that existed in the other.

- She knew there were problems you had of your own, and she was okay with that.

- But she also wanted you know that you would never have to deal with them alone if you needed her.

- She wanted to help you the way you were there to help her.

- Even if she was more rational than emotional, she would offer any kind of comfort she could.

- There had been moments where she saw you dealing with some struggle, and she would ask you if you needed her for anything.

- “Thanks, Jaehee, but this is something I need to deal with on my own.”

- “I understand MC, but you know that-“

- “Yes, I know you’re always there. You’ve said this before! Now can we please drop it?!”

- She was mildly taken aback, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

- You were always the calm one, the one who soothed her frayed nerves.

- She wanted to be that way for you, but was unsure of how to approach the issue.

- Not knowing what else to do, she fixed you a cup of coffee and let you be.

- To say she wasn’t feeling some kind of hurt would be a lie. (But this is Jaehee Kang we’re talking about. Oozing with rationalism.)

- She simply assumed that whatever you were dealing with was something that required your attention and yours alone. Even if she wanted to help.

- She heard your sigh and peeked in to check on you. Your head had fallen on the back of the sofa, but you saw her in your peripheral and smiled.

- “I’m okay, sweetheart. I swear. Thank you for letting me have a moment, and I’m sorry for snapping.”

- She was beside you when you extended your hand to her, sitting beside you, inwardly relieved.

- “Will you be all right, MC?” She wondered softly as she took your hand, rubbing the back of it in smooth circles.

- You nod, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I will be,” you reply. “And thanks for not pushing the issue.”

-Jumin-

- Oh, this man.

- This man is a pro when it comes to dealing with things on his own.

- His entire childhood? Dealing with his father’s frequent marriages and divorces. Even when speaking to his best friend about it, he would tell him not to worry about it.

- As an adult? He’s running an entire corporation (even though Jaehee handles the major time- consuming tasks and keeps him current on everything) because his father still insists on ‘finding love’.

- Does he seek a solution from others? No. Not really. He firmly believes that it can be managed without outside help.

- It was just who he was. Calculative, tactful, a strategist.

- And you come along, making him realize he needed you.

- You cleared away the confines of his mind and released his heart, making him see everything of the world in a whole new light.

- He would do literally anything to see you smile.

- And at the first sign of trouble, he wanted to be there.

- To fix everything the way you fixed him. (Even if he was still learning how to respond emotionally to others.)

- But… that was where you were like him.

- In every possible aspect, you and Jumin Han were complete opposites. You were easygoing, he was meticulous and detail-oriented. He noticed everything and stressed how it should be just so. (At least with most things. You, he loved you as you were)

- When you had a problem, you simply want to be left by yourself, because you know you can deal with it. Yeah, you might sigh and growl a bit, your face might scrunch in concentration, but you were handling it.

- But your husband thought you were having difficulties of some sort and wanted to help you. (I mean, you’re his entire world, right? Why wouldn’t he?)

- However, he didn’t know that when you have a problem, that you were like him in the sense that you would handle it on your own.

- He kept asking if there was something he could do, every time he saw your face contort, even going so far as to offering suggestions for whatever it could have been, every single time.

- “Jumin! Enough! I love you, but for once, please stop trying to get to the bottom of this! You can’t help with this one!”

- You lost your cool, and instead of looking at him, you took off to another room in the penthouse.

- He was frozen to the spot, both unsure what to say and what to do. You had never spoken to him like that before. Not once. Something had to seriously be wrong, and all sorts of questions riddled his brain.

- Was it him? Did he do something or say something wrong? What could he do to fix it? Something. Anything.

- He wanted nothing more than to follow you, but the look in your eyes before you’d left said that would have been a very bad idea.

- So calm, rational, collected Jumin Han was no more. Now he kept pushing his hair from his face, almost pacing the room before deciding to get some wine to alleviate the situation.

- Some time had passed before you came back to him to explain. You weren’t sure how long you’d stayed away to calm down, but Jumin had cleared his second bottle of wine and was halfway through his third when you returned. (The man can drink.)

- His jacket had been tossed aside, his tie loosened, first three buttons of his shirt undone and his hair was a disheveled mess when his eyes connected with yours. Even his cheeks were flushed.

- If he looked like that, he must have been drinking quickly.

- “Kitten.”

- “Jumin, sweetheart, you’re drunk.”

- You were trying to walk to where he sat in his lounge chair, only to have him stand and waver. (If Jumin fucking Han wavers after drinking, he’s wasted. Period.)

- “I’m not drunk.” (Liar.)

- Shaking your head, you lead him to the bedroom so you could try to explain. He was rational, so he might retain some of the information.

- However, his drunken self was heavier than you thought as he leaned on you. Nevermind the fact that he was just rambling about everything and nothing all at once, the most coherent thing being how much he absolutely adored you.

- Finally, after almost falling a few times, you two had made it and got him to bed.

- “Why won’t you talk to me, my love? Have I done something that offends you?”

- “No darling,” you sighed. “But you know how you prefer to deal with a lot of things by yourself? I’m like that too.”

- “Ah, I see,” his arm was over his eyes as he lay back, not even bothering to undress for bed. “But do you ever want help? Has there ever been a time where you wanted to ask?”

- “N-Not really. I’ve just always dealt with things on my own, for as long as I can remember actually. This has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

- He gave a noncommittal hum and you thought that was the end of it, undressing to get some much-needed rest yourself. The talk would wait until morning.

- That was until he pulled your half-naked form into bed with him, landing on the bed with a bounce.

- “Ju-Jumin!”

- His face was inches away from yours, the scent of Cabernet Sauvignon on his breath. Even though his face was still flushed, he managed to speak to you without slurring.

- “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, my love,” he said, the softness of his baritone voice rumbling in his chest. “But please remember I love you if things get to be more than you can bare.”

-Saeyoung/707/Luciel-

- If Jumin Han is a pro at dealing with things on his own, then Saeyoung lives up to his name- God7.

- No one knows more about inner problems than he does.

- Everything he does, whether it’s for V or the Agency, or even things from his past, his bunker couldn’t even fill all the problems that goes on in his mind.

- But you… You were the calm that broke the storm, the one who gave him reprieve from all the demons plaguing his mind.

- And you knew he loved you. That much was obvious.

- But there were times when you were glad the Agency was taking up his time. You had your own problems to deal with and didn’t want to get anyone involved, especially him.

- For the most part, it worked out in your favor.

- He would be so busy with some technical task that it was easy for you to sort out your problems at your own pace.

- But there were also times when he made the brief step away from his tasks. He’d notice (maybe not at first, but he notices) how your brow scrunched, or the way your eyes narrowed when dealing with something.

- You’d also rub your eyes, insisting you were fine if he ever asked.

- But there had come a day when he completely pushed his work aside to be with you. Those days were rare, but certainly appreciated. Just not this one.

- To this day, you don’t even remember the problem itself, all you remember is the way he kept playing with you, trying to get you to talk about it.

- Playing was his version of prying, and he was persistent.

- This is 707 we’re talking about, after all.

- But if the obvious ‘Not now, Saeyoung,’ or ‘let it go’ weren’t getting through, your blatant outburst got the point across.

- “Damn it, Saeyoung! I said knock it off! I’m handling it!”

- This boy was phased for maybe a few minutes.

- He remembered the way he mistreated you in the beginning (and is still beating himself up for, by the way… inner turmoils, like I said.)

- So, he definitely got the message.

- Without saying a word, he kissed your temple and brought you a few bags of Honey Buddha Chips with a few cans of Dr. Pepper.

- “Whatever it is,” he said as he rubbed your arm gently. “You don’t have to tell me. I get it, but no secrets, okay? I deal enough with the Agency’s and V’s and I don’t want any from you.”

- You nod. “I know, babe. And it’s nothing to be worried about, just personal dilemmas I need to work out on my own, okay?”

- Even if he didn’t like your response too much, he understood, better than anybody.

- But if it even looked like you were remotely close to breaking down, he would step in.

- He was God7, Defender of Justice and Peace, and no one or nothing would make his angel weep. Not while he drew breath.

- After some time, you came back to find him working on whatever the current assigned task was and started to slowly rub the tension from his shoulders, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

- “Thanks, babe. I love you.”

[bellygunnr]

The Music is Muffled

<= Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Chapter Three (pending)

The basement Yellow-Green had commandeered for their team meetings had since become theirs entirely. It looked well lived in, the walls plastered with posters and various maps which in turn were covered with marker. A dry-erase board had been erected at one end of the concrete room and, currently, they all sat Knight-style at a round table. Since Rider's departure, the head was left empty, but now it was occupied by Stealth.

Bamboo set her hat on the floor, in conjunction with Stealth casting aside his goggles.

"That was definitely Rider."

"Yes, well, we got that when Goggles took him home," Bamboo said tightly. She drummed her fingers across the surface of the wooden table. "He looked so... ill. Sick!"

"I've never seen anything like it before," Blazer said. "And the way he was acting..."

"Do you guys remember when Blue Team disappeared for a while? And Rider, too?"

"Goggles said they lost Rider down there," Blazer said slowly.

Stealth leans back in his chair, the lenses of his goggles flickering on and off. He was prone to fidgeting with the settings dial when thinking.

"I don't think they lost him. I think they ran away from him."

Now that was a new concept-- one they hadn't considered before. Silence falls over the table as they all look at each other. Each of them remembers distinctly how Blue Team, and the Octolings they brought with them, behaved.

It had started with a text message..

+

Bamboo. Can you come over? With the others.

Bamboo has to fish her phone out of the blankets from which it had been entangled. Blazer still snoozed, undisturbed, her limbs spread akimbo as she snored. She grumbles to herself as again, the phone vibrates, this time with the urgent pulse of a call. A number she saw rarely-- Goggles.

Confused, she blearily answers the phone, willing something to spike her into wakefulness.

“Hello…?”

“Blazer! Thank cod you woke up. Um, something happened. We really need you to get Yellow-Green and come over. Have you heard anything from Rider in the oh, past… uh… how long were we down there?”

There’s a murmur of voices and Bamboo’s anxiety spikes. Drowsiness still pulls at her but it’s less acute now.

“...Rider hasn’t been around for a couple of days,” Bamboo cuts in. “We’ve been looking everywhere for him! Even his Dynamo is gone.”

“A-- a couple days? Guess we were down there for awhile! Well, um, can you please get everyone to come over? You know where my place is, right?”

Goggles sounded… anxious, unsure of himself. Bamboo swallows and starts to nod, only speaking when she remembers it’s a phone call. “Yeah! Yeah, absolutely. We’ll all be there. Is everything okay? Is Rider okay?”

She rubs over Blazer’s shoulder as she notes her girlfriend beginning to move.

“I’ll see you soon, Bamboo.”

And the call goes dead with a soft blip.

“Who was that, babe?”

“It was Goggles. He wants us to come over-- I don’t know why, but it sounds serious. You up for coming with?”

“Weren’t we going to look for Rider today…?”

“Blue Team may have done that for us.”

+

They had never been to Goggles’ house before, but they were fairly certain it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. The air was tight but somber, heavy with something that Bamboo could have cut with her carving knife. Hell, she could have made hundreds of little sculptures out of the tension in the air. Her ears folded back against her head as Yellow-Green was ushered inside.

“Thanks for coming so soon, guys. It means a lot.”

“Y- yeah, no problem,” Bamboo says. “Who are they?”

Inside the tiny studio apartment, six Inklings were crammed, all of them dressed weirdly but two of them sticking out more than the others. Bamboo stares at them with critical, appraising eyes, skin prickling with apprehension. Even their tentacles were strange-- a bright, glossy pink-red, their suckers facing outward.

Almost Inklings. Yet not quite.

“Th- this is Hachi and Nana! Um, we rescued them from… from a really bad guy, way underground.”

“Underground?” Stealth cuts in.

“It’s called the Deep Sea Metro,” one of the strange Inklings says. Their tentacles are arranged in pretty, dancing locks. “My name is Nana. Hachi and I used to be Octarian soldiers before being freed by the Inkantation. I assume you are familiar?”

“The Calamari Inkantation,” Stealth clarifies. “Yes, of course. One of our oldest traditional songs.”

“Correct. Well, shortly after being freed, I was captured and held prisoner by.... By someone--”

“Something,” Specs hissed.

“Someone named Tartar,” Nana finishes firmly.

“And I woke up alone. An ancient squiddo named Cap’n Cuttlefish met me first. Something had knocked me cold-- but I apparently escaped being captured. It wasn’t long before we met Goggles down there.”

Nana’s friend-- Hachi, Bamboo surmised-- had a low, clear voice that told her many things. Her ears flipped out from their folded position.

“And when I met Hachi… we met the Phone.”

Blazer cuts in, frustrated, stepping ahead of the rest of Yellow-Green. “None of this explains where Rider went, you know!”

“We have to tell you everything else!” Hachi exclaims. “Or else you won’t understand the severity of the situation!”

“We don’t understand the situation now! Why are we supposed to believe you guys, huh?”

“Because Rider was with us--! He was with us through the whole thing, and we failed him, and he’s stuck down there and now we don’t know where he’s at, and we’re sorry, we’re really sorry! None of us could do anything! That stupid Tartar got the better of all of us!”

Goggles’ outburst was loud, wobbling with the wet bubbling of an Inkling in distress.

“Rider was with us! He bought us time to escape! Then there was this whole other thing and- and- and we had to save Inkopolis, it was really scary, but we managed to do it but Rider wasn’t there because we failed him! Okay?! We lost him!”

Bobble puts her arm around Goggles’ shoulders, hugging him close.

“It’s hard to believe that all happened in only a few days,” Specs says breathlessly. “It was… really scary.”

“We are not afraid to admit that it was terrifying,” Nana says solemnly. “Rider was-- was a good Inkling, for what little… I saw of him.”

“He’s still alive!” Headphones hisses, smacking the Octoling’s shoulder. Goggles had his face buried in Bobble’s shoulder, clearly suppressing tears.

“Cod, this is a fucking mess, isn’t it?” Bamboo snarks. “Are you saying you got our team captain killed?”

“No! Never,” Hachi bursts out. “Your Rider made a sacrifice, miss, but I promise you he is not dead.”

Nana shoots Hachi a look that Bamboo couldn’t hope to interpret.

+

As soon as Goggles ushered Rider into his home, Rider fled from his grasp, diving into the first room he saw-- the bathroom. The door closes with a loud slam, then a soft click, and Goggles is left staring at the empty space with confused shock. Tentatively, he follows after his partner, pressing his ear against the thin door.

There’s the sound of retching.

“Ri-- Ri, are you okay? Do you need anything?”

The retching doesn’t last long-- maybe five minutes-- but by the time it’s over, Goggles is trembling, nails digging into the palms of his hands. He gasps with relief when he hears the sound of rushing water, indicating that Rider was trying to clean himself up. He knocks on the door with three gentle taps.

“Rider…?”

“M-- Mmm, fine,” a voice mumbles. The door swings open.

“You are not fine! You are so bad! You’re gonna kill me, Rider!” Goggles cries. “We’re getting you some water and you need to lie down!”

Rider whines at the loud voice, pawing at his ears with long, unkempt claws, shoving past Goggles with a groan. He’s wincing and flinching beneath the overhead light. He unceremoniously falls to the floor, burying his face into his tattered vest.

“It’s too warm,” he complains. I want to be back underground! It’s nice and cool and quiet…!

“Then let me cool it down…”

Goggles… busies himself, because if he doesn’t, he will cry. He drags out the futon that he sleeps with, setting it within the AC’s line of flow, and guides Rider into it. He kneels down beside him, offering a single upturned palm to show that he wants-- no, needs-- to interact with him physically.

“Please, big guy? Let’s get those old clothes off you, okay?”

Rider unfurls just slightly, enough for Goggles to get a hold of his gear. The jacket is unzipped and unfastened, which proves not to be overly difficult as most of the fastenings are worn and torn. He slides the heavy gear from Rider’s shoulders, leaving a plain sweater. It’s bright red.

“Where’s your black jacket, bud?”

He receives no response except violent shivering.

Goggles sighs and coaxes Rider into lying down.

“I’m just glad you’re back…”

+

“Do you think Hachi knows that we found Rider? Maybe we should tell him…”

This idea comes from Blazer, wily and impressive always. She slams her phone down onto the table, the Octoling’s contact information already pulled up. A determined light dances in her eyes.

“They have to know something, right? They can help us fix Rider!”

“I think… that would work. What do you think, Stealth?”

Stealth nods very slowly. “It really can’t hurt. Then tomorrow… we should check on Goggles and Rider. I’m worried.”

Blazer dials Hachi shortly after their agreement, fang digging into her lip. Silence becomes heavy and suffocating in their little basement, threatening to choke her, until finally, an accented “Hello?” comes through the other side.

“H- Hachi! Hello, I know this is sudden-- are you free? Something happened, uh…”

“Oh, Miss Blazer? Well, Headphones already told me. About your Captain, yes?”

“O- Oh? Did… she? Yes, Rider uh-- came back today. He looked really…”

“Sanitized. Yes. You should come over. The others are already here. Nana will add you all to the group chat.”

“Thank you, Hachi…”

And the call goes dead with a soft blip.

“Guess we’re going to Hachi’s! Blue Team is already there,” Blazer says with forced cheeriness. But she couldn't help but think-- what the hell was "sanitized?"

+

“AGENT. You’re beginning to upset me-- bring that blue pest and his friends to me! Enough of this weakling act.”