#the left one is mostly traced so i can build muscle memory but the right one i did entirely on my own. i mean. w a reference. but yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelyhp · 4 years ago

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Still you

Chapter one: Lion's den

Sypnosis: Y/n decides to help the avengers despite their betrayal two years prior and her life makes a big shift once again.

pairing: Y/n x Bucky Barnes and some Y/n x Sam Wilson

word count: 3,452

warning: slight mention of sex, cursing.

note: I have this idea for a mini-series but I'm not sure if it will be liked so I guess I'll see where it goes. constructive criticism welcomed :)

Side note: if anyone wants to be tagged, you can leave a comment or message me :)

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My knife pierced the air. A hand grabbed my wrist before I could strike the skin with the blade. The attacker threw me aside, spiraling me around. With my hand still in his grip, my left hand shot out to hit him on the temple. A grunt was heard from what I knew to be a man.

A hand collided with my ribs as they released my right hand. The air in my lungs was momentarily thin when there was pressure behind my knees, causing them to buckle. I refused to go down alone. My hand shot out to grab his neck in the dark, a small smile of triumph emerged on my face as I grabbed it. A mess of grunting and shortness of breath mixed with the sound of our bodies landing heavily on the ground. Rolling over while holding him tightly, I managed to get on top of his heavy build. My legs were spread beside his hips, sighing against the floor as my left hand pressed against his chest to prop myself up. I quickly pressed the kitchen knife in my right hand against his throat. I narrowed my eyes, trying to focus on my attacker's face despite the lack of light in the living room.

I was panting when I could place the color on his eyes. Steely blue orbs stared back at me, an emotion I couldn't decipher was shining deep. Sweat ran down his eyebrows and perspiration glistened on his forehead. There I was, staring at the man I'd thought of for two years. I held his gaze, unable to look away and so did he. However, I was the first to break eye contact as my eyes roamed over his face, finally pausing on the lush curve of his lips. They were slightly open, breathing heavily. I hoped to hide how my breath caught, looking away when the images of his mouth doing more than breathing interrupted my mind. I tried to think about everything that had happened to recapture the initial hatred and disdain I felt for the man in front of me two years ago.

I noticed the way his hand was bent in front of our bodies, a clear sign of defeat as he breathed rapidly from the struggle, just like me. I looked into his eyes once more as I thought about the precarious position we were both in. However, I did not move. The trust between him and I had been broken a long time ago, something my body would have to understand. I couldn’t trust him and I would never do so again. Just when I thought we were alone, another voice came from the apartment's voice.

"That's why I told you to go first, Manchurian Candidate. She always had a soft spot for you. See, Romanoff?" Tony Stark's irritating voice invaded my living room. The sound of his voice interrupting the fantasies I was engaging in my head. Annoyance coated my mood knowing who was in the house and the fact that someone else was on the line, listening and probably seeing everything. I so didn't miss this. I flatly ignored any kind of indication that he was standing near me while still staring at Bucky's face. Taking him in for the first time in two years.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, confusion and irritation filling my tone. It was mostly irritation since they broke into my apartment, in the middle of the night during the best sleep I've had in a while. Yes, I was definitely annoyed. I looked at James, who was still pinned under the weight of my body. A weight I was sure he could flip at any time if he wanted. I resisted the urge to snarl.

"We came because we need your help." Of course, they did. Why else would they come? I fought the unpleasant feelings that threatened to resurface and just stared at him. His breathing had slowed down from the strain earlier. So did mine. I noticed that our chests were moving at the same rhythm and part of me asked if it had anything to do with us, with how well our bodies knew each other. If they remembered what I thought had happened. I tried to focus on his responses rather than the way his warmth felt against my core, the skin of my thighs, and my hand pressing against his chest. Instead of the way the curve of his body felt against mine. Instead of his lips and the way they felt on my skin, tracing every inch of me. My right hand pressed against his stomach, the feel of his hard muscles and the heat seeping through my skin made me hyper-aware of our position. I mentally slapped myself before letting a humorless laugh escape my lips. I noticed the way his eyes focused on me.

"Why didn't you knock?" I cussed myself. After all this time they come looking for me, just for help and the first thing I tell them is to knock on the door. It was a ridiculous remark because even if they had, I wouldn't have opened the door. I had to give them credit. They remembered quite well how angry I left the compound. On top of that, they remembered enough about me to know that I didn't trust anyone enough to open any damn doors. Well, if I was giving away credits, some could be given to Stark. It was a smart move to put Bucky in the lead because as much as he hurt me, I could never hurt him. Oh, and how I tried that day. I had two years to think about what occurred, to think about everything. I tried to hate him and I failed miserably. I tried to forget it and it never worked. I could never forget that he had been the only one who had not treated me as a threat or maybe he only thought so. He knew what I had been getting off from. Either way, it didn’t matter. Stark would’ve been stabbed for sure.

"Would you have opened it?" The question came in a mocking tone. I became alert when his right hand took mine, pulling the dagger away from his neck. I forbid myself to feel any kind of sympathy when I saw a thin red cut where my dagger had been, a single drop draping at the end. I was ripped out of my thoughts when my breathing hitched. His left hand brushed the bottom of my thigh, hidden out of Tony's sight. My breath caught in my throat as his hand settled on my smooth skin, his fingertips digging into my thigh.

"No, probably not." My voice came calmer than I thought. Even then, I realized that he was out of breath and I hated myself for it. how conscious I was of him. The skin under his palm was burning, a blazing trail following his every move, every touch. The hotness was beginning to spread the more he gripped my skin. My breathing became more and more erratic once his hand started rubbing the outer part.

"Well, that's enough lovebirds." Tony's voice shifted me back to where I was and the situation surrounding us. So, I did what I should have done a while ago. I sprung up from his body, welcoming the cold rush of air I felt cooling the hotness of my skin. The hand he used to rub me was now rubbing the cut on his neck gently. I turned to flick the light, the brightness stinging my eyes for a second before I turned my head towards Bucky.

In a swift movement, he was standing beside me. The ocean of his eyes looking straight into me. Memories of us invaded my brain before a deep disdain grew in my chest. I ignored every emotion that I didn’t understand —neither cared to— swimming in his eyes. I cursed myself as my body still felt flushed with the way he looked at me. A warm sensation pooling in my lower abdomen. I looked away, a scowl creeping onto my face as I laid eyes on Stark´s form. Everything I felt and desired to forget was whisked away by it, my hate for Stark coming in full bloom.

I couldn't help but distort my face in a frown. He had undervalued and underestimated me so many times before I had no more sympathy for the mortal. I never pondered why I had faith he would ever consider me part of his team, of his family. I clearly tried giving too much compassion to the human race.

“You want my help? You?” my finger pointed towards the red and gold suit standing in the corner of my dining space. A snort flew past my lips as a humorless laugh came deep from within my chest. This definitely had to be an emergency. That, or the man was a masochist and he finally discovered what makes him tick after two years.

“Believe me, failed human, I’m not happy about this. However, I do accept you’re the only one, besides Wanda, able to kill enemies with a wider range.” He looked physically hurt to be saying the last part. He had never been good at admitting things about people he never liked.

I kept my face impassive but the truth of how I felt when I heard those words was different. I was suddenly taken back to the times where this was a daily occurrence. Where I was shunned, verbally abused, and not wanted every day. Not only by Tony but by Hydra and just about everyone. I thought about my so-called family back home. About all those times I- I couldn’t even continue. My resentment and hatred for Stark erupted in me, bringing back years of unsaid words and silent tears in the corners. I tried to calm my rapid breathing and the itching in my hands to stab him.

“You can go to hell, Stark.” I stalked off towards the kitchen, knowing if I stood there any longer this would result in a bloodbath. something to create space between us was needed. I let the knife drop with a clank on the sink. I allowed my body to rest against the counter, my hands gripping the edges. Exhaustion made its way quickly through my body though not as heavily as before these days. The alertness and adrenaline in my body numbing the feeling.

“Unfortunately, that’s where we’ll all go if you don’t help us. We need your powers to save the world, falsie. Your time to shine,” his smile was forced and the trust he wanted me to feel was nonexistent. “Oh, and has anyone hinted you look like shit over here? What have you been doing these past two years? Not a glow-up I presume.” The last words were muttered but he knew I would hear because of my god-like abilities.

I was hurt at every word he said but I was mad at myself for letting him affect me. Both feelings moved lively inside me, both wanting attention right this moment. I couldn’t let him see how hurt I was by his words because I knew that was what he wanted. I wondered how his life with Pepper Potts was. But a part of me thought that was irrelevant since he hadn’t liked me since the moment he saw me. His distaste and distrust had been clear since the beginning. He thought he was better, more morally right. Even then, I had never put cared ones in danger, but he had.

As mad as I was, he was right. The bags under my eyes were dark and prominent and they were sign enough of my lack of sleep. Exhaustion had taken a toll on my body. Getting two or four hours of sleep was becoming more and more difficult to withstand. I was aware of how much weight I had lost since I saw them but paranoia wasn't exactly your friend if you were hiding from killers and triggers for your mind. Having to run every few months and hide was becoming tiring. I was mentally and physically exhausted. The desire to tamper with my memories and make me forget became increasingly stronger as days went by but I knew I couldn't. I needed to remember every deed I had done and I needed to remember how I felt while I did it. I felt obliged to suffer for them.

“Fuck you.”

“So touchy,” he sat in the gray chair of the black dining table beside the door. His fingertips stroke the tip of the snake plant in the center of it. I just stared. Hostility irradiated from my person and expanded across the room. The tension in the air strong as a chokehold. “I have deprecating nicknames for everyone. Don’t feel special.” I wanted to punch that fucking denigrating smile right out of his face. He knew what bothered me the most. He knew my insecurities and I felt an instant disdain flare-up in my body towards James. I wanted to punch them but I opted to be more civilized and not act like exactly what he thought I was.

“I didn’t escape Hydra after 60 years so some asshole with an overinflated sense of self-worth could treat me like the scum of the earth. Sorry, metal can but you’ll have to shove your world-saving mission up your ass.” I snapped. So much for acting civilized.

“The kitty’s got claws. Was wondering when they would say hello.” He puckered his lips, a mocking gesture soon followed by the rise of his eyebrows. He looked towards Bucky, wiggling his brows. A whistle interrupted the sudden silence filling the room. Before I could even register, the desire to climb across the counter and smash his face against it flourished in me like poisoned vines. Before I could complete the action, Bucky’s voice reached my ears.

"Y/n, please. Thousands we’ll die if we don’t fight this war. If you don’t help us, we will die.” Bucky stepped closer to the counter, hands resting against the edge.

“What makes you think I will prevent that?”

“Even if we don’t win it, it will lessen the casualties,” his eyes bored straight into mine. “We need you.”

I need you.

The sincerity in his voice and the pleas of help smudged all over his voice softened the raging anger inside my heart. Unsaid words hanged around us like leaves falling from trees, already softening the walls I had built around my heart. Doubts surfaced.

My wish to leave Tony fend for himself battled with the faces of those who defended me at some point in my stay in the Avenger’s tower and while I was on the run with both Steve and Bucky. Steve and Natasha had been weary of me, as I expected they would but they warmed up to me. We were not exactly brothers and sisters but they tried to help. I had thought of them to be friends or something close before I found everything out. Wanda had tried to understand me and be there. She had not been involved in anything. And Vision, he had always been an ally and never doubted my loyalty. He never knew of the plan either. Banner didn’t talk much and T’challa was a friend. Tony was the person that made my life a living hell and turned everyone against me.

I tried to understand him, at first. I thought he was trying to protect his team, his people. I was a potential threat and I understood that but I never implied or acted as though I wanted to hurt them like he made everyone think. Every time he had a chance, he would mention disloyalty or my so-called shady behavior. Yes, I had problems trusting my own mind after Hydra, but I never wanted to hurt the people my brother trusted and the people who gave me a home. I knew what triggered the memories and the episodes of countless tortures, experiments, and missions made for and by Hydra. I was also aware of who I killed and T’challa helped with the rest. He thought my actions to protect myself -and them indirectly- made me a menace.

After some time, I knew I would never win his favor and change what he thought about me. How he saw me. So, I stopped trying too.

A war raged inside me. I felt conflicted. For one, I didn’t know how everyone would react to seeing me after two years, especially when I didn’t leave on the best terms. Two years in which they knew nothing about me and never tried to. It had stung that none of them tried to find me or followed me after I left devastated that night. But Bucky, Bucky hurt the most. I thought he felt towards me or at least cared for me but I was mistaken. I had left hope brew inside me when I shouldn’t have. We all know hope is a dangerous and deadly thing to feel.

I still got over it or concealed it with everything else to forget. I was used to being treated as means to an end since I was born and survived it all. I was not about to let my world crash and burn for a man and some people I lived with. Even then, I didn’t want to return. But if what Bucky said was true, millions of people would die. The Avengers could die and the world needed them. This was bigger than me and everything that had happened with us.

“I have one condition.” My jaw was set and my tone firm, regret already pulsating through me.

“Absolutely not!” Tony’s reply came fast and clashed with a serious “You name it.” coming from Bucky. I looked between them, trying to decide who I wanted to pay attention to first but decide Tony wasn't worth a damn minute of my time. My eyes settled on Bucky’s blue ones, my voice dead serious.

“I don’t ask for trust because I know I will not give any of you the same but I ask to not be doubted,” My voice took a cutting edge but we all ignored it. “I want to be informed of every detail regarding the situation and the mission, just like everyone else. The moment you all know something I don’t. I’m out.” They both knew how serious I was about this. I promised myself I would never subject myself again to what happened two years prior. The feelings of emptiness and low self-esteem I felt were not something I wanted to deal with. Not from people, I swore would never affect me once again. I could very well torture myself but I was not going to let a team led by a buffoon that thought he had me pegged since he saw me make me think I was nothing.

Bucky knew exactly why I asked for this. He knew how I felt and what led to this as he was just as much in the spotlight as I was. I didn’t trust him, not after everything but I knew he wanted to help and right his wrongs so he would keep his word.

“Now wait a minu-“

“You’re right. If you are going to risk your life for us, you have the right to know.” He lowered his gaze. His words felt heavy with something a feeling I didn’t recognize nor wanted to.

“You can’t be serious about this, Cyborg.”

“She’s right, Stark. I’m sure the team will agree.” He looked at Tony sideways, irritation stretched across his face. Bucky’s voice was definitive. The sharp edge in his voice shut Tony up, who rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. I ignored him as I muttered a quick ‘one minute’ and walked to my room. After changing into a black t-shirt and some jeans, I slid on my leather jacket and put on some boots. A bag of clothes and essentials was made quickly before I stepped out of the room.

When I emerged, Tony was sulking like a five-year-old boy beside Bucky while the man shook his head repeatedly towards him. A sigh escaped Bucky as he pressed his finger to the bridge of his nose. I repressed my urge to laugh at the scene in front of me. Once they saw me, both their face recovered and their postures composed.

“Let’s go.” I said nonchalantly, grabbing my keys.

And just like that, I was walking into the lion’s den once more.

#bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic #james barnes #marvel fanfiction #bucky x oc #romance fanfiction #angst fanfic

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twiistedgalaxies · 4 years ago

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Three Times Jaskier Didn’t Seem Quite Human

(And one time Geralt asked too many questions.)

“Jaskier isn’t human,” Yennefer stated bluntly, swishing a wine glass in her right hand.

Geralt blinked, “What?” This gave Yennefer pause. She knew that her on and off again lover was oblivious, but she hadn’t realized it was quite to this extent. Jaskier gave her a pained, pleading look from the other end of the table. She ignored him.

“You seriously haven’t noticed?” she continued with a huff.

“...No?” Geralt’s brows furrowed together in confusion. The nerve of these idiots. Yennefer had half a mind to just state the obvious, to keep these two from continuing to dance around the subject, possibly until the end of time.

But it was much more fun to gently direct Geralt to the answer and watch his bard squirm. Yennefer took a sip of her wine, mentally cursing her high alcohol tolerance, “You’ve been travelling with the man for decades,” Geralt’s face was blank, the puzzle pieces not fitting into place, “He hasn’t aged, Geralt.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he protested, though from the way his eyes shifted towards his companion he was clearly thinking it over. If they were not at such a high profile party Yennefer would have strangled him. He opened his mouth to say something else, but it was at that exact moment that Jaskier decided to pick up his lute and perform for the crowd - granted, it was what he had been invited to do, but Yennefer sent him a withering glare anyways. She was met with a cheeky wink. Oh if looks could kill.

“I could prove it to you, you know? A few well placed detection spells and-”

Geralt shook his head, “He’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

“You two are hopeless,” Yennefer sighed.

-@~*^*~@-

It had been after a particularly difficult hunt, when Jaskier had to dress his companion’s wounds for the umpteenth time. Geralt sat upon a stool in the center of their tiny room at the inn. He looked more irritated than usual as Jaskier gave him what was essentially a sponge bath around where a kikimore had stabbed his shoulder with one of it’s spindly arms. Jaskier winced, it was too close to important organs for comfort. Humming as he worked, Jaskier tried to stitch shut what he could and thoroughly bandage the rest. The wolf medallion on Geralt’s chest thrummed contentedly each time the bard’s delicate hands drew near.

“Where did you learn?” he asked suddenly, his gruff voice cutting through the peaceful quiet.

“Hm?” Jaskier hummed, ignoring the Witcher’s grunt of pain as he applied one of his many salves to his shoulder, “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, dear.”

“The salves, the stitching, all of it,” Jaskier raised an eyebrow at that, but Geralt continued, “It’s a very odd skill for a bard to have.”

A laugh, Geralt had to bite back a hiss as Jaskier’s touches grew less gentle. He clearly wanted him to drop it. “What? Do you think that I was helpless before you came along with your bulging muscles and witchery glares?”

The witcher shook his head, silver hair sending droplets of water in the air, “No it’s not that,” the bard had certainly proved capable and skilled many times over, “It’s just, were you a healer before you became a bard?”

Jaskier froze, seemingly caught in a memory, “Something like that,” he began to bandage Geralt’s shoulder, “This kikimore did quite the number on you, didn’t it?”

Geralt gave him a look of disbelief because obviously.

“Come on, come on, give me the details, I can’t write my ballads off of just grunts and intrusive questions now can I?”

-@~*^*~@-

Jaskier had tagged along on what was supposed to be a minor contract. Nilfgaard had stormed a small town, leaving destruction and countless corpses in their wake. Corpses that were perfect for every Alghoul in a three mile radius.

He and Geralt were engaged in their usual banter (which consisted mostly of Jaskier rambling about whatever was on his mind, punctuated with the occasional grunt from his witcher), when a sudden, piercing screech rang through the air. It was high pitched, shrill, and caused Jaskier to clutch his head as he let out a groan of pain.

Meanwhile, Geralt immediately leapt into action, drawing his silver sword as a pack of the necrophages surrounded them. He was able to take out several, his sword and the ghouls creating a smooth, gory dance. It all seemed to be going well before an Alghoul caught Geralt off guard, leaping onto his back while extending its spines. This sent Geralt off balance, and he was quickly overwhelmed. His sword got knocked out of his hands in the scuffle and he thought that this, however stupid it may be, would be what would kill him.

A cry of rage. Slashing, tearing. Suddenly the weight that was dragging Geralt to the ground grew lighter. He felt something wet and sticky. Geralt looked up to see Jaskier standing over him, holding Geralt’s silver sword, out of breath, and covered in Alghoul viscera.

The bard looked down at himself, annoyance on his admittedly handsome features, “That was my favorite tunic too!” The tunic in question, once baby blue (like his eyes which were now flashing gold, what the fuck?) was now stained red and black. Jaskier brushed a bit of entrails off his shoulder, visibly disgusted.

“Huh?” Geralt said, intelligently.

-@~*^*~@-

The pair was making their way north, Jaskier strumming on his lute and Geralt sat atop Roach. The dirt road was a tunnel bordered by a wall of towering trees, whose orange and red canopies blocked out the sun, casting the duo in dappled shade.

Jaskier strummed a few chords in the major key, before he spoke, “Geralt, are you doing alright?” His face was soft and forget-me-not eyes distant like they often grew when he was lost in thought. Geralt shot him a confused look. “It’s just that, you’ve seemed rather distracted lately.”

“Hm?”

“I,” Jaskier sighed, collecting himself, “It’s just with the kikimore and the alghouls, and just last week when you forgot your potions in Roach’s saddlebags. I’ve never seen you get like this before, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Geralt replied, gaze sliding to anywhere but his bard.

Jaskier reached up, intertwining his lithe fingers with Geralt’s own, “I’m worried about you, Love.”

Geralt huffed, he could never resist the man’s pouting lips and puppy-dog eyes, “Yen and I had a conversation at that party a few months ago.”

He felt the bard tense, “Is that so?” There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them. Jaskier must have realized Geralt, man of few words that he is, wasn’t going to elaborate any further, so he spoke, “What did you two talk about?”

“She said you aren’t human and I just thought about it more and… it makes too much sense,” Geralt began, feeling awkward as he tried to find the words to explain, “The way you don’t age, your medical knowledge (even of witcher potions!), how you know your way around a sword and how your eyes gleamed-”

“Geralt, as you know I have an impeccable skincare routine and-”

He frowned, “Don’t give me that shit, bard.”

Jaskier sighed, “You really want to know?” A nod. “Okay, well, here goes nothing.” The bard let go of the witcher’s hand, and pulled off a golden ring that, now that Geralt thought about it, he had never seen the man without. A shimmer fell over the bard’s body, like a statue being unveiled. The first thing Geralt noticed was his eyes, they were a sickening, piercing yellow. His face was marred by countless scars, from claws, burns, knives, and magic. Jaskier’s build underneath the glamour more closely resembled Geralt’s, though he retained his shorter stature. The bard smiled sardonically at the witcher’s shocked expression, “Like what you see?”

Geralt’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, “How?”

“You’d probably know me better as Julian,” Jaskier’s eyes got that distant look to them again, his face was downcast, an unusual expression for someone who typically embodied sunshine, “I was in the Griffin school, before we were attacked,” a joyless laugh, “I had never wanted to be a witcher, ya know? Wasn’t cut out for it. But my father, Viscount Pankratz himself, couldn’t pay a witcher for his contract, so he offered me up instead. I failed as a noble, so maybe I wouldn’t fail as a witcher. He was wrong, of course, I spent most of my time writing poems instead of studying Signs. Singing instead of sparring. After the trials I spent a few years on the path before I grew sick of it and returned to Kaer Seren.”

Geralt hummed, encouraging Jaskier to continue.

“I was made to look after the students, I had to patch up their wounds and keep them from blowing themselves up with alchemy. I loved the little rascals, which is why..” Jaskier trailed off, fingers tracing the grooves in his lute.

“It’s okay,” Geralt said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head hurriedly, “No, no I want to, I have to,” his voice cracked, “I left after the trials killed them. All of them. I couldn’t bear to be a part of it. A part of everything. So I ran, like a coward,” He spat out that last word like a curse.

The pair stopped. Geralt placed his gloved hand on the bard’s shoulder, a rare gesture of affection and reassurance.

“Eventually, I found a mage and spent my life’s savings on a well-made glamour and the lute the elves at Posada so lovingly destroyed. It wasn’t until I had graduated from Oxenfurt that I found out what happened in Kaer Seren.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Geralt asked, his voice gentle.

Jaskier’s face flushed red with shame, “I was afraid. Afraid of what you would think of me. That you’d hate me.”

Geralt frowned, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

At that, Jaskier laughed, “Just look at me! I’m an ugly fuck-up.”

“No,” Geralt said resolutely.

“Huh?”

“I said no. Do you know how many times you’ve saved my life? Made long nights on the path easier to bear? I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you,” Geralt continued, looking Jaskier directly in the eyes. He didn’t reply to that, just slipped his ring back on and hugged his arms to his chest.

The rest of the day’s journey was spent in silence.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment, I love hearing feedback. I had one hell of a time writing this, I originally had only written the first scene, and it took a few months for my single window's screensaver brain cell to finally hit a corner and figure out how to continue and finish the story.

Ao3

#The Witcher #The Witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #fic #ao3 #ff.net #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher!jaskier #feral jaskier #yennefer #dandelion #netflix #non-human jaskier

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brexrif · 5 years ago

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The White Wolf: My Hero (Part 2)

REQUEST: “Can I ask you a romantic scenario with Geralt and a shy girl who starts to follow him and Jaskier after Geralt saved her life? Can I ask you to add some smut too? If you are comfortable with that. Can I ask you to make the girl a virgin too?”

Find PART ONE HERE! You’ll probably need to have read it for context, unless you’re just here for smut, then please proceed.

Speaking of smut..

Warnings: SMUT a lot just good ol’ smut.

If you like Geralt smut, please check out my MASTER LIST where I have an entire growing catalogue of it for you to enjoy.

“Are you hurt?” He searched your face frantically for clues.

“Who hurt you? Your arms, are they okay?” He spoke quickly and urgently. You shook your head and tried to breathe deeply, struggling to find the right words swirled up in your surprise. You blinked a few times, trying very hard to keep your tears back.

You swallowed hard and managed, “I-uh-I thought you had left.”

“No…No, I wasn’t going to leave you without well- saying goodbye” Geralt looked down at you hard, his brow furrowed and his whole face heavy with concern. He brought his large hand up to your face, his fingers were rough and callused, but he was so gentle with them, wiping a few tears from your cheek. Your skin buzzed under his touch and you felt your cheeks get hot. The whole room seemed to disappear and you were the only ones there as he held you so tenderly. “Are you alright?” he asked, searching you with his eyes intensely.

You remembered about the Rosemary and Thyme, “I’m just great and I’m sure you and your prick are too.” You shook your head from his gentle hold and pushed past him, remembering where you were headed. You started up there stairs quickly, the tears returning hot to your cheeks. You tried to keep up with wiping them away when you reached for the latch of your door, but Geralt’s hand was already there, opening it for you. He had been hot on your heels up the steps.

“Y/N, maybe we should talk” he gestured into the now open door, leaving you little choice. You wiped your cheeks on the sleeves of your dress and walked past him. You sat on the edge of your bed and he remained standing. He seemed too antsy, like a man that had a hard time settling. “What the hell is going on with you?” he crossed his arms and stood across from you.

“Nothing, Witcher.” you replied coldly, smoothing out your skirt and averting your eye contact. Your tears were drying as your emotions changed more to a place of anger and resentment. You resented how he was treating you now, so concerned and caring, probably refreshed after having been satiated by his whores.

“You think I went to the Rosemary and Thyme?” he laughed at you, uncrossing his arms and treating your coldness like a joke. You scoffed and shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m sure you had a great time. Met some lovely ladies. Some of them are friends of mine, we were born the same year.”

Geralt just laughed again, this time crossing the floor towards you. “Is that what you want me to say? I went and railed some sad whores after a long day traveling and saving your ass?” he was almost mocking you now.

“Don’t act like you have any pride now, Witcher” you stood up to meet him and meet his energy. He towered over you, your head about chest level to him, he looked down at you with a smirk cutting over his prominent jawline. You admired the stubble that grazed his jaw, cheek and neck so full and manly. You were again overwhelmed by the scent of him that had so entranced you before. Earthy soil, his body that had been working all day under layers of armor.

“I did see a whore” he said playfully, still looking down at you and smirking. You were enraged, the heat immediately came back to your cheeks and the tears welled up over your bottom lashes again. You brought a balled fist up to hit his chest but he caught your wrist mid-swing.

“But I did not sleep with her.” He kept his grasp on your wrist, it felt incredible to be under his grasp like this, so delightfully helpless under this powerful man. A familiar pang shot between your legs and a heat began to pool there and radiate upwards through you. How was he able to do this to you so easily? As if he knew exactly what was going through your body, he leaned into you and raised your wrist, his grasp still firm. He brought your hand up to his lips and opened your fingers. He planted one soft kiss on your palm and you thought you would fall over, knees buckling from feeling his lips on you.

“So you didn’t…?” You asked, looking up at him dreamily, succumbing to the feelings elicited from being so close to his body again.

He started tracing the lines on your palm with his lips, kissing them again periodically. He shook his head ‘no’ and started kissing down your wrist, flecking his tongue over your pulsing veins. You flexed your feet and raised yourself up on your toes by the force of Geralt’s softening eyes and parting lips. He pulled your wrist finally to rest over his shoulder and you pulled yourself the rest of the way up to meet his lips. You finally locked with him, overwhelmed by the feeling of his kiss and his hands, making their way down your back to rest on your waist and pull you towards him. He moved his lips over you expertly, teasing your mouth with his tongue. You followed his lead, you grew delirious from the feeling of him surrounding you like this and happily surrendered to him. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you to him and brought his lips so slightly back from yours,

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Y/N,” he whispered, you could feel his breath on your lips as he spoke. “I wanted you” he brought you in and kissed you passionately, his lips moving voraciously over yours. You felt his large hands slide down and grab at your ass hungrily. The heat between your legs grew and your clit began to throb from his touch.

“I could have let you walk home from the woods, but I liked the way you felt in my arms. I could tell you liked it too. Then when you shook your ass at me on the steps…” He went in for another kiss, inspired by the lust of his own memory.

“I don’t have much experience…is the thing” you pull away to confess, burying your face into his chest feeling embarrassed. He took your chin in a few of his fingers and brought your gaze up to meet his again. He looked back at you, sympathy in his eyes thinly layered over the heat and hunger you still knew was there.

“I can show you everything babygirl. You don’t need to worry about that.” He brought your lips to his again and continued kissing you intensely, one hand still holding your face to his and the other firmly on your ass. He angled your jaw upward and kissed his way along it until he was just under your ear and kissing lightly on your neck.

“I thought you were jealous” he rumbled on your neck seductively, grazing his lips against your sensitive skin. You felt waves of tickling electricity surge through you and your clit throbbed even harder at the sound of his voice. “So, do you want to be treated like a whore, babygirl?” he whispered hot breath onto your neck and bit your earlobe gently, pushing himself against you.

“Mhmm” you whimpered and bit your lip, feeling your legs start to fail as you lost your balance. Geralt had you literally weak, the heat from your core had radiated through you and you were hot and lightheaded. You felt the moisture from your cunt pooling in your panties and pushed your thighs together to prevent it from dripping down your thighs.

“Don’t be ashamed, babygirl. I like that your cunt is wet and ready. In fact, I could smell you getting wet for me when I first lifted you off the ground in the forest. Monsters be damned, your little pussy was dripping for me.” He growled at you, moving his hands over the laces of your dress, letting it drop to the ground at your feet. You hadn’t expected his heightened Witcher senses to reveal so much on your behalf.

You felt vulnerable and shy, you tried to hide yourself by pushing your thighs together still and crossing your arms over your exposed breasts. Geralt stepped back from you, “Can I see you?” he asked, his voice low and comforting. He knew you were uncomfortable, but also undeniably horny for him. You giggled nervously and uncrossed your arms, revealing your chest to him. He tilted his head and rumbled deep in his chest, “Hmmmm.” He took the tunic off over his head and began unlacing his leather trousers. He quickly stepped out of them along with his underclothes leaving you to admire the Geralt you had only seen in your imagination, drawn from the brief moments feeling his hard body around yours.

He stood tall, his white hair messy and half pulled back mostly out of his face with a few loose strands in front. His build was incredible. His shoulders were massive, built muscles hard and rippling over every part of him. His chest was broad and built, you remembered how it felt to nestle against it, hard and sturdy. It was covered in a generous layer of hair that you had not seen on any boys your age before. No, this amass of body hair came only to a man, a man of experience and wisdom. It peppered his muscles and swirled down his abdominal muscles to a taught bellybutton and an enormous cock below. Your mouth fell open when you saw how big he was. Not only did Geralt have impressive length and girth, you could tell how hard he was as it stood erect for YOU.

“Ohh” a sound came from your lips, parted in disbelief. It was a cross between a moan and a shock.

“Don’t worry Y/N. We’ll take it slow.”

……….....................................................................

Geralt had you in your bed lying on your back. He lowered his head between your thighs and lapped at your soaking folds greedily. He mumbled something about how sweet you tasted, but you could hardly hear him over your panting and whimpering. Your back arched and you saw stars. You had never felt pleasure like this before. Geralt drew his tongue from opening to crest over your pussy and sucked on your clit. After only a few minutes of this treatment, you had sunk your nails into the sheets and arched your back in orgasm. You panted and moaned, bucking your hips wildly into his face. He flicked at your clit with his tongue through your orgasm then lapped at the cum that had gathered in your opening as a result.

“My sweet reward” he chuckled playfully, coming up from between your thighs and wiping his face. You looked at him, still catching your breath, whirling in disbelief. He laid down beside your shuddering body allowing you a moment to float back down to Earth. He took your hand in his and began tracing your knuckles delicately. You could see his cock throbbing, standing straight up and twitching, though he was not bothered by the urgency of his sex.

“Would you like to touch my cock, babygirl?” he cooed at you, kissing your shoulder and rubbing your hand lightly. You nodded, excitedly at him. He brought your hand down his body and released it near his cock, allowing you to explore on your own. You reached out tentatively and grabbed the base of it. Geralt groaned deep in his chest. It was hot and so hard. You could feel his heartbeat through the coursing veins that lined it well. With your grip still intact, you began pumping your hand up and down, using the slide of his skin to aid in the action. Geralt moaned and began breathing heavily, he grew even harder under your grasp. You continued like this for a while, enjoying the power you felt in making him grow under your touch.

“If you keep this up, I won’t get a chance to fuck you” he said through his teeth. You released his cock and it twitched from your absence. Geralt rolled over you quickly, placing a hand on either side of your head and holding himself above you easily. You wriggled your hips, ignited by the feeling of his massive body over you and the heat shared skin to skin. He kissed into you hard and you could still taste yourself in his mouth. He lowered his hips and you felt his cock throbbing against your folds. Your body erupted in heat and desire, you had to have him inside you.

“Ready?” he asked seductively, somewhere between a whisper and a growl. You nodded and he took a hand down to position himself outside your opening. He rubbed his cock up and down your folds, coating himself in your abundant juices. He moaned at the feeling and you gasped feeling him push the head of his cock into you slowly. He watched your face intently, and slowly sank his massive cock into your hot core. You whimpered in painful pleasure, feeling that cock you were just handling now stretching your walls accommodating and making space for the Witcher now inside you.

“Geralt” you moaned out, half wincing and succumbing to pleasure. Once fully sheathed he groaned loud and long, feeling your tight walls clench around him. He began moving over you in methodic rhythms, his cock working inside you carefully. You panted, truly overwhelmed with the experience of pleasure. It felt so good to be full of him, you thought you’d die if his cock ever left you. Every small movement he made had your walls clenching and waves of pleasure rocking through you. You gripped onto his powerful back and dug your nails into his thick skin, desperate to ground yourself to something.

“Does it feel good babygirl? You like my cock in you like this?”

“Yes, Geralt. Fuck, yes” you managed to get out between moans. Geralt took this as an invitation to fuck into you harder. He had been so gentle and careful with you, but now you saw the potential of his raw and primal power kicking in. He grunted and clapped his hips into you, each thrust of his cock bursting through you and knocking your cervix. He was so deep, you could feel his balls, heavy and pounding into you each time his cock sunk in. You bucked your hips up at him, attempting to meet his increased pace. You were whimpering and moaning with each thrust, feeling the pressure building from your clit again. Geralt readjusted and brought himself higher over you on the bed, now he was fucking down into you and your clit was rubbing against his pelvic bone. He must have known you were close.

“Cum for me babygirl. I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?” You hardly needed any convincing, but the sound of his voice so commanding and controlling the very orgasms he fucked into you sent you over an edge. You arched your back and threw your hips up into him and let go. You let moaned hard and dragged your nails down his back. Your head pressed into the mattress and you were gasping for breath as he continued to fuck into you. Geralt thrust into you hard through your orgasm as he himself came undone. He groaned through his teeth and pushed into you deep while his cock writhed wildly inside you, releasing his load.

“Fuck” he said through gritted teeth as his cock slowed inside you. Geralt’s head snapped to the door suddenly, his cock still sheathed inside you draining the last drops.

You were still panting and enjoying the feeling of his warmth spreading through you, when-

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Felix. Just outside your door.

..............................................

Considering writing a Part 3! Would you be interested? Let me know in the comments!

Need more smut in the meantime? Check out my MASTER LIST

@boogeywoogeywoogeywoogeywoogey, @asaucecoveredsomething, @agentdedf1sh, @love-affair-with-fandoms, @missingartist96, @spookypeachx, @alwayshave-faith, @angelic-kisses13, @saint-hardy, @staridari, @weirdani1 @sageandberries-png,@magdelen69, @eevee-of-rivia@justlovetoreadfics, @mary-ann84

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captainsolare · 4 years ago

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Concert

Fluffvember Day 7: Concert - Leopold Vermillion (f! reader)

Summary: You're a classical violinist and tonight is your big debut at the Castle Town concert hall. Your long-time friend Leopold is in the audience, and he begins to see you in a whole new light after watching you achieve your biggest dream

Word Count: 1,825

A/N: I’m probably a little biased because I am a classical violinist, but this was by far my favorite one to write so far this month! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The Max Bruch Violin Concerto no. 1 partly inspired this so if you would like to, listen to the first movement.

masterlist

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You stood in the atrium of the concert hall, patrons, mostly upper crust and royalty, milling about and drinking before the event began. "Ugh Y/N, I don't know how you can stand going to these events. Everything is so stuffy, even the clothing." Your friend Leopold complained, pulling the collar of his dress shirt away from his neck. You rolled your eyes, at him lightly punching him in the arm, "Going to these events, is kind of my job you know. Plus, orchestra music isn't stuffy, you're just lame and have no taste."

Leo was about to object but before he could do so a bell was rung and you had to dash off. "Sorry! That's my cue to go change, I'll see you after the concert okay?" You said apologetically, planting a chaste goodbye kiss on his cheek before disappearing into the crowd. The kiss was meant as a friendly gesture, nothing more, the two of you had grown up quite close after all, but nonetheless Leo was left standing there dumbstruck, hand lightly touching the place your lips had been a moment before.

He gathered himself and entered the concert hall, heading for the Vermillion family box; he was a little nervous he had to admit, he was the sole Vermillion sibling here tonight and so a lot of eyes were on him. Fuegoleon was away on an important business matter and who knows where Mereoleona was, she usually couldn't be bothered to come to events like this, they were far too constricting for her wild nature.

Even though Leo found these events stuffy, like most of his royal duties, he came tonight without much complaint because tonight would be the first time he would get to see you perform a concerto with an orchestra as large as this one. You had picked up the violin at an early age, and had been traveling the country playing at concert halls all over, but tonight would be your big debut on the Castle Town stage and Leo was excited. Not because he particularly enjoyed orchestral music like this, but because it was something you enjoyed. Growing up, he had always admired the way your eyes sparkled as you talked about your dreams of someday playing on this stage, and here you were achieving the dream you had worked so hard for.

The first piece was a long drawn out number that had him nearly falling asleep, Mimosa, his cousin, had to elbow him several times to keep him from snoring. He supposed he should have felt a bit sheepish, but you weren't onstage so he couldn't bring himself to care all that much. During intermission Mimosa turned to him excitedly, "Y/N is on next, isn't that so exciting?" He nodded, "Yeah! This is her big dream!"

Intermission seemed to be over in a flash, the lights dimming and he waited with bated breath as the spotlight lit up the space you'd walk through shortly. When you appeared Leo felt his breath hitch, you were in a stunning turquoise dress, sparkling in the light that illuminated the stage. "Wow." Mimosa whispered, awestruck. He could only nod in agreement, the dress suited you perfectly, the perfect battle armor to conquer the stage tonight.

When you'd told him about this concert a few weeks ago, it had taken everything in him not to launch himself across the table and wrap you up in a bear hug. Well, almost everything, despite him trying not to, he did it anyway, leaving you both grinning ear to ear and laughing with excitement.

The audience clapped and you shook hands with the conductor and the concertmaster then took up your post near the front of the stage. Leo remembered you mentioning that you were nervous about playing from memory, so he silently cheered you on, hoping you could hear him in your heart.

As the timpani began playing, your eyes searched the audience, your hands were sweaty and your heart was pounding, you couldn't see the audience very well because of the spotlights but you knew there was a familiar head of red hair out in the crowd and that gave you comfort. The flutes and woodwinds came in next and you prepared to come in with your cadenza.

From the second your first note reached his ears, to the second your last chord echoed through the hall Leo simply found himself unable to take his eyes off of you. Your notes were spellbinding, taking his breath away and telling a story with just sound, it was a language unlike any he had heard before. He had always admired you, your strength of character, your sense of humor, your honesty, brutal at times but that's definitely when he needed to hear it the most; but tonight, something tugged at his heartstrings and was rooting in his brain, and suddenly he saw you in a whole new light.

When the concerto ended you were a panting mess, any trace of nervousness had evaporated as you reached the end, a beaming smile appeared on your face as you bowed, the roar of applause filling your ears. From somewhere in the crowd you heard a distinct whistle and you had to contain your laughter, that was definitely Leo. I guess he liked it then? That's fantastic! You probably wouldn't admit this to anyone, but when you got up on this stage tonight you didn't care about all the opinions of the various noble folk and royalty that had attended, if you were being honest the most important, and perhaps the only opinion that mattered to you was Leopold's.

You made your way to the atrium because you had to accept your congratulations from the audience members in person, it was simply good practice. Several people congratulated you, others noted that you played well even though you were not royalty, you took each comment with grace and a smile, praying that you'd be able to go home soon and celebrate as you wished to; perhaps with a long soak in the bath to ease your aching muscles.

Leo and Mimosa appeared in the atrium, eyes scanning the room for a sign of you; Mimosa couldn't help but be amused by the way you both perked up as you caught sight of one another. Ahh, young love. She mused, then giggled to herself, who am I kidding? I'm young too.

Leo made a beeline for you as soon as your current conversation ended and grabbed your hands with excitement. "Oh Y/N, that was so amazing, I could just kiss you right now!" He said, practically buzzing with energy. You deadpanned and he was about to pull away, but rather than pulling away as well you said, "Kiss me then." It was almost a challenge, and Leo backed down from it, suddenly hyper-aware of all the people watching you; he lost his nerve and decided to change the subject.

"Do you--- do you need someone to come with you? To help carry your things?" He asked, nervous about even this small interaction for some reason. Mentally he kicked himself, usually, conversation was so easy with you, but now he was just a bumbling mess. Your face fell into a smile, "That would be lovely Leo." You led the way to the green room and greeted the other performers, thanking them for a job well done. As you packed your things, Leo couldn't help but notice the slight frown that twisted your features. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. When you nodded he dropped the subject, opting instead to carry your things as he had promised.

The atrium was empty when you emerged from the green room, and you found yourself in awkward silence with Leo. Secretly, you were disappointed that he hadn't taken you up on your challenge earlier and you didn't know how to feel about it. Do I really have feelings for him? Leo's thoughts seemed to be on the same track as yours as you exited the building into the night air.

"Did you mean it?" "Mean what?" You asked, turning to face him; in an attempt to not misconstrue things you weren't going to answer unless he asked you exactly what was on his mind. A blush graced Leo's features and his heart was pounding in his head, "Did you actually want me to kiss you back there?"

You tilted your head, trying to sort through your emotions so you could give him a straight answer. "I think so. I'm not really sure, I just, I said that without thinking and I'm not sure of what exactly I'm feeling right now." Leo gulped, trying to gather up the courage for his next question, "Do you… do you still want me to?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, eyes not leaving your friend for a second as he carefully set your things on the ground next to him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and awkwardly grabbed your arms as he leaned in, the kiss was short and sweet, but it left you with an unsatisfied feeling and solidified in your mind that you did, in fact, want to kiss him. In fact, you wanted to kiss his stupid face again and again.

Leo looked away awkwardly, wanting to kiss you again but not sure how to ask. Luckily he didn't have to, as you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in closer to you. "Do you want me to?" You asked breathlessly, you were so close you could feel each other's breaths on your lips. When he nodded you didn't hesitate, slamming your lips into his.

Mimosa appeared from out of the concert hall, a mixture of wanting to roll her eyes and cheer seeping into her expression. "Took you guys long enough." She said, hands on her hips and looking away; she was happy for you both but the last thing she wanted to watch was your makeout session.

The two of you jumped and pulled apart quickly at her sudden interjection. "What do you mean, took us long enough?" You asked, a little sheepish at the implication that she had known your feelings long before you had. "Don't worry about it. Want to go get some ice cream or something to go celebrate your big night?" You and Leo exchanged a glance, "Absolutely!" Mimosa led the way to the nearby ice cream shop, you and Leo trailing a little ways behind.

"Was tonight exactly how you dreamed it would be?" He asked as you walked hand in hand. You shook your head and smiled at him, glancing at your intertwined hands, "Nope, it was even better."

"Hurry up or I'll eat without you!" Mimosa yelled, interrupting your moment for a second time that night. You both chuckled and sped up to meet her at the door, filled with the feeling of a new chapter beginning.

#Fluffvember 2020 #f!reader #leopold vermillion fluff #leopold x reader #aurora borealis #planet fluffvember

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themanicmagician · 5 years ago

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Shipwrecked [3/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

“What is this supposed to be?”

Tom eyed the frilly cocktail Redd had pushed into his hand. It was a swirl of blue and seafoam green, complete with a tiny toothpick umbrella spearing a pineapple wedge.

“Vacation Juice.”

“But we’re not on a—”

“It’s just a name. You’ll like it, trust me.”

Tom took a small sip. It tasted like pears. Very, very sugary pears. He couldn’t even taste the alcohol. As he took a second, larger sip, Redd said: “Told you you’d like it.”

Tom rolled his eyes, not gracing Redd with a response. He swallowed another mouthful of the “juice” as he glanced around the bar. It wasn’t one of their typical haunts. Drinking out in the city was always expensive, so they tended towards establishments with long, generous happy hours, and cheap brews to go along with. The bar they were in now—Tom had already forgotten the name—was a touch fancier. The drinks were all cocktails with themed names. The drinks were served in small portions, and the prices were obscene, but they were celebrating, after all. They could splurge, just a little, just tonight.

The bar was miraculously uncrowded. Tom and Redd had even managed to secure a corner table all for themselves. The lighting was dim, intimate. They were surrounded mostly by other couples, each pair focused on each other rather than a game on TV.

This was Tom’s third drink in under an hour, and he was getting to that pleasant, loose phase of drunkenness. He watched Redd swallow, observed the slow bob of his throat as he drank. He was struck by a bolt of desire. He wanted to trace the movement with his tongue. Tom shifted on his stool.

Redd’s cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. His cool demeanor slipped, his eyes widened in alarm.

“It’s the landlord for the building!” He told Tom before he hurriedly took the call. “Hi! Phil, how’s it going? No, no it’s not a bad time at all.”

Redd hunched down, pressing the phone close to his ear to listen over the booming music.

“...Really? Oh—Oh no, that’s not a problem at all.”

Redd’s expression twisted briefly in distress. Tom’s stomach lurched with sudden, strong anxiety. What was the landlord saying? It was maddening, only being able to hear half of the conversation. He leaned closer, but could barely hear the tinny voice coming from Redd’s phone.

“Of course. I’ll get it to you tonight. Yes. You too. Ciao.”

Redd hung up, and sighed. When he didn’t immediately launch into an explanation, Tom blurted: “Well?”

Redd combed a paw through the fur on his head with agitation. It made his sleek fur stick up at odd angles, but Redd didn’t seem to notice, or care.

“The landlord, he got another offer on the store. Says if we still want it we’ll have to pay the first six months—up front.”

Tom swallowed, throat suddenly dry. He downed the rest of his Vacation Juice.

“I have some money put away, but not nearly enough for all that time.” Redd frowned. “But if I don’t get it to him tonight, we lose the place.”

“Well, how much is six months’ rent?”

“Everything included—all the fees, insurance, utilities and everything—it’ll be 200,000 bells. And I already went and spent most of my money getting us the stock. I can’t get a refund now.” He laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “We’ll have all this furniture and nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you need?”

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Redd. We’re partners, right? How much do you need?”

The fox shifted on his stool.

“...It’s too much to ask of you.” Redd mumbled, eventually.

“Redd.”

“Fine, fine. I only have about 15k bells left in my account right now.”

Tom brought out his own phone. It took a few clumsy tries for him to unlock it. He had just enough in his account to cover the remainder, built up from the months of pitching and selling ideas to businesses. This would drain nearly all of Tom’s savings, but it was an investment. It was worth it. Besides, they’d make it up and then some when their store opened.

“I can transfer it over right now.” Tom smiled. “Though I’m afraid we’ll have to switch to ramen and tap water for a while.”

“I could kiss you.” Redd said.

“What’s stopping you?”

After a sloppy kiss that tasted of pears and apples, Tom drained his account for the deposit. Redd called Phil back to confirm the transfer was a success. Once the landlord confirmed, Redd pulled Tom from the bar, hand in hand. They couldn’t really afford to buy more fancy cocktails, but there was a full bottle of sake at home, calling their name.

~*~

Tom awoke with a thunderous headache. He groaned, pinching two fingers to the ridge of his nose. He warily opened his eyes a few centimeters, then slammed them shut again. Nausea churned in his gut. He took a moment to just lay there, and prayed for his insides to stop revolting. How much had they had to drink last night? It was a blur. Tom had been feeling buzzed already from the cocktails and then the sake had gone and punched straight holes through his memory. He remembered snatches of moments, of sensations. Raking his paws through Redd’s fur, feeling the corded muscles beneath as they shifted. The sweet taste of Redd’s mouth on his, the triumph of finally marking up that exposed throat. The way that Redd, always so perfect and composed, became a stuttering, breathy mess as they made love. Then, a whole lot of nothing.

“Redd?” Tom moaned feebly. The fox handled his liquor a thousand times better than he did. He could entreat his partner to get up and fetch him some water. He flailed out blindly, reaching, but his hand encountered no fox.

Tom opened his eyes again, with heavy reluctance. He was alone in the bed. He swept his paw over the sheets. They were cool.

Tom spilled clumsily over the side of the bed to reach his pants, which were in a crumpled heap on the bedroom floor. He rooted around in his pockets until he found his phone. The time blared at him, like a condemnation: 10:05 a.m. For someone that normally got up for the day at 6, it was sacrilege.

Standing upright was a mistake. Dizziness and nausea slammed into him immediately. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was puking. He hadn’t really had much to eat yesterday, so all that came up was stringy bile. He flushed the mess down and rested his head for a minute against the cool bathroom cabinet.

He was surprised Redd hadn’t come to investigate, considering the amount of noise Tom was making.

“Redd?” He croaked.

There was no reply.

Tom sat for a moment more, until he was certain he wouldn’t neat the toilet again. He levered himself upright, bracing himself on the sink.

He shuffled out of the bathroom, and went into the area comprised of their kitchenette and living room. Redd was still nowhere to be found. And there was something...off. It took him a moment, and then he realized: Redd’s stuff was missing. His artwork that’d been scattered around, his books, they were gone. Tom checked their bedroom. Tom’s things were neatly folded in the drawers, but there was an empty gap where Redd’s clothes had once been.

Had something happened to Redd? Heart pounding with confusion and fear, he dialed Redd’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. He called again; same result.

After the beep, he left a message, his voice audibly shaky. “H-Hey, it’s Tom. Call me when you get this, alright? Let me know you’re okay.”

Tom returned to the living room, and paced anxiously until his attention was caught by a white envelope. It was resting on the floor, by the front door. Someone must have slipped it underneath.

The envelope was addressed to Redd, but Tom broke the seal anyway, hoping whatever was inside would provide answers.

Inside was a final eviction notice.

According to it, Redd was three months past due on rent, and had until the end of the week to move out his stuff before it was thrown out by management.

Tom was breathing fast, now. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. This didn’t make sense. Redd had afforded this apartment for years before Tom had moved in. And as soon as Tom began making money he contributed half of the rent. He gave the bells over to Redd and assumed he’d take care of it. Redd had money before they’d poured most of their shared earnings into their store, so why—?

The eviction notice was starting to crumple in his shaking grip. He set it aside on the kitchen island.

He needed to find Redd. He needed to talk to him. There was probably some simple explanation for all of this that Tom just couldn’t see right now. Redd would explain, would tease him for getting all worked up about nothing. Or, or maybe this had been premeditated. Maybe he’d taken Tom’s money for months and then—

Tom yanked on his pants, and a shirt, and dashed out of the apartment. Redd wasn’t home, but there was one other place he might be at this hour.

Tom ran to their store. Animals gave him odd looks as he passed them, but he paid them no attention. He wasn’t built for running, especially not over long distances. He was soon panting and wheezing, sweat slicking his shirt to his back, but he didn’t slow. The walking sign switched to a red hand but Tom kept running, ignoring the resultant yells and curses spat at him from nearby cars as they were forced to swerve around him.

He reached the store at last—and his heart dropped to his stomach. The entire area was roped off. There were large heavy construction machines, including a crane with a wrecking ball at the end of it.

Tom ducked under the tape and tried to run inside, but was grabbed by one of the construction workers.

“Hey, hey!” The bulldog barked. “You crazy? You can’t go in there, they’re about to bust it down.”

“That’s my store!” Tom yelled. “What are you doing, that’s my property!”

“This place has been foreclosed on for over a year now.” The worker replied, bewildered. “It’s been slated for demolition. Gonna squeeze another high-rise in there.”

“But—But—”

The key in his pocket was freshly cut. If the place had been abandoned, it would’ve been relatively simple for Redd to install a new lock on the place. To add a layer of credibility to the entire request, to allow Tom to hope.

Tom was no longer resisting, so the bulldog released his grip on Tom’s shirt.

“You should step back, kid. It’s going to get real dusty here in a minute.”

He threw one last perplexed look at Tom before he rejoined his crew members.

Tom retreated behind the tape, and watched as the wrecking ball swung out, and smashed the front of the building inwards. His eyes watered, then, but not from the resultant dust.

~*~

He didn’t return to the apartment. He didn’t want anything they’d shared, or that would remind him of Redd.

He walked to the train station in a daze, only pausing to chuck his apartment and store keys in the trash.

Tom didn’t have much remaining in his account, but Redd had at least left him enough to purchase a one-way ticket back to his hometown. The train was the same make and model as the one that’d brought him here, six months ago.

Tom sat at a free window seat, and rested his cheek against the window. The glass was a bit smudged and sticky, likely from a child’s hands, but Tom left his head where it was.

The train came alive with a jolt. Soon the skyscrapers gave way to houses. Gradually, the houses became further and further spaced out, and the forest grew denser. He drank in the sight of green foliage greedily, like a man given water after days in the desert. He hadn’t realized, until now, how much he hated the gray of steel, the tan of concrete, the black of asphalt.

The train stopped intermittently. Tom did not pay attention to the conductor’s voice over the loudspeaker, as his was the very last stop on the line.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit next to you?”

It took half a moment for Tom to recognize that he was being spoken to. He pulled his gaze sluggishly away from the window. A blue and white cat stood there, smiling down at him, seemingly unperturbed by Tom’s dour mood. Tom shrugged, not really caring what the cat did. He slid into the seat beside Tom.

“I’m Rover.” He beamed. Tom wanted to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, scream that it wasn’t fair, how dare he smile like that when Tom had been through hell.

“...Tom.” He admitted, eventually, in the expectant silence.

“Pleasure. So, where you headed?”

“Home.”

He understood it now. He wasn’t meant for city life, for a place that cradled you when you could provide it value, then dropped you into the dirt after.

“Took a day trip to the city, eh?”

Tom grunted.

“What a place! Fun to visit now and again, but I’d never live there, personally.”

“Me neither.” Tom agreed.

Rover filled the trip with largely one-sided chatter until he hopped off, three stops before Tom’s.

“Safe travels, friend! I’m sure we’ll meet again someday.”

Tom mustered up a wave for him.

The train pulled into its final station a little after noon. Hardly anyone was left on the train. As Tom left the station, he passed a few elderly couples, some younger animals psyching themselves up for a nature hike.

There weren’t cabs this far out, so Tom walked. It reminded him somewhat of his first day in the city, fraught as it was with exhaustion and confusion as he plodded down street after street. At least this time he walked with certainty. Starved of entertainment as a child, he’d explore the entire town enough times he could navigate it blind.

He wasn’t surprised to discover nothing had changed here. He hadn’t been gone that long, all told, and change came at a glacial pace in his hometown. There were the same trees, unchanging storefronts. Though he supposed there was perhaps a bit more peeling paint on the general store sign than the last time he’d seen it. The store had been owned by Gran Bluebell since before Tom was a kit. It was no great shock she didn’t bother with touching up the hard to reach sign at her age.

People recognized him. Welcomed him. Assumed he was just here for a visit. Tom smiled at them, and exchanged pleasantries but no meaningful information on his side. Humiliation burned his face like a hot brand. He could hardly admit to himself that he’d failed, let alone to them. They’d sympathize, express their condolences—but past their commiserating veneer would be a sick kind of satisfaction. I knew you’d never make it out there. You thought you were better than us? Smarter? We’re all stuck here in this town for a reason.

Had the city soured his optimistic, rosy view of others? Perhaps it had. Could he truly be blamed, though? With pessimism, you expected the worst out of others. You could never be disappointed, only pleasantly surprised.

At length, Tom reached his destination. It was a house on the end of the row. One story, cream-colored. The doorbell had stopped working years ago, so Tom rapped on the door. He heard the shuffle of feet over wood, and then the door creaked open.

Sable’s eyes widened. She shut the door again to unhook the chain lock, and then threw it wide open. Tom could see a slice of the kitchen from his current vantage point. Mabel was strapped into her highchair, gleefully smashing peas into paste on the tray in front of her, babbling nonsense. Label was peering at him with large, dark eyes, half-hidden behind the frayed couch.

“Tom, what are you doing here?” Sable swept a critical eye over him, noting his lack of luggage.

Tom saw telltale signs of strain in his friend’s features. The circles beneath her eyes, the unkemptness of her quills, the stains, fresh and old on her apron. He shouldn’t bother her with his problems. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Tom?”

She cupped his chin, lifted his head up so he met her gaze.

“What happened?”

Tom broke. He surged forward, wrapping Sable in a tight embrace. Sable hesitated only the briefest moment before she encircled her arms around him, stroking his back soothingly.

“Sable,” He choked out.

“It’s okay now.” Her tone was soothing and soft. “Let it out.”

He buried his head in her shoulder, and wept.

~*~

Tom was rooted in place. Redd was gone, again. Without a trace, without a word.

He was being stupid. He was overreacting. Where could Redd go, really? The island wasn’t that large.

He knew this, logically, and yet his heart was pounding like a drum, his paws, clammy. He couldn’t help the irrational fear that history was repeating itself.

He managed to break through the panic which had seized him to return downstairs. He entered the Cranny. Timmy and Tommy swiveled away from their conversation with Fang.

“Have you seen Redd?” Tom blurted.

The twins shook their heads in unison, but the old wolf scrunched up his forehead in thought.

“The little red fella?” Fang rumbled. Tom nodded. “Think I saw him on my way in. Headed northwards, cha-chomp.”

“Should we look too?”

“...too?”

“No, boys. Mind the shop. I’ll find him.”

Tom waited until he was out of sight of anyone inside the store before he broke into a jog. He crossed over the bridge that connected the main swatch of Bastion to the smaller crescent of land to the north. Alex had left most of this land to the wilds. There was a grove of multicolored hyacinths, encircled by pear trees. Bastion’s lighthouse was posted on the edge of the water. There was no other sign of civilization out here—save for Flurry’s house.

Tom hurried up to the house, and was about to knock when the door swung open. Redd was exiting, a new book tucked under his arm. Flurry was behind him, wringing her tiny paws.

“You’re sure I can’t carry it for you?” She fretted.

“The book weighs more than you do. I can handle it, no problem.”

Redd was facing Flurry; he hadn’t seen Tom yet. He was speaking in that tone of voice, the same one he’d had with the boys, before Tom interrupted. Something soft, kind.

Then Redd turned to see Tom, and the gentle look on his face vanished, replaced by something charming and fake.

“Come to escort me home? How gentlemanly of you, Mr. Nook.” Redd batted his eyelashes obnoxiously. Flurry giggled.

Tom gave a short nod to the hamster before she shut the door. Tom waited until they were in the hyacinth field, far enough away from Flurry’s house, to speak.

“You can’t just—just leave without telling me.”

Redd snorted. “I’m not one of your adopted kiddos.” A thought seemed to occur to him, and with some annoyance, he added, “What, you can’t trust me to be on my own, is that it? Think I’m always up to no good?”

“You’re hurt and you don’t know the island. You can’t just go off on your own.”

“Please, Tom. Don’t bother with all this. You don’t care about me, you’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“That’s not what I—you’re so—!” Tom clamped his mouth shut. He took a deep breath, which didn’t do as much to calm him as he would have liked. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. You were just gone, and I panicked.”

Tom was surprised as that seemed to set Redd off. “Oh, panicked, did you? How do you think I felt when you left New Leaf, without telling me? I had to hear it from Chadder—Chadder, of all people!—that you’ve just run off to some deserted island, on your own. There are tarantulas out here, Tom. Tarantulas!”

“And scorpions,” Tom added, helpfully. Redd glowered at him. “I was expanding my business into travel. Not that you’d know anything about innovation.”

“You learned all you know from me!”

“Hardly!” Tom scoffed. “I taught myself everything after you stole from me. My first shop was made out of scrap metal and wood from the dump, and look at me now. Whereas you, Redd,” He jabbed the fox in the chest. “You just jump from one scam to the next, and don’t care who you hurt in the process.”

Redd flinched back. “I’m not. I’m not like that anymore. I—look. I might have. Lied. Before.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Tom said, waspishly.

“Guess I deserve that one.” Redd shifted his weight uneasily. “I’m talking about the art. It is real, like I said. Spent almost every bell I got to acquire it all. But I wasn’t planning to scam anyone with it. I wasn’t going to go island to island to sell people replicas. I just wanted to come here. Where you are.”

Tom’s ire drained, supplanted by confusion. He said nothing, and Redd took that as permission to continue.

“I was going to swing by once a week. Give a new piece of art to that human kid every time, because I know Blabbers—”

“Blathers.”

“—would want them all displayed in his museum. And over time, you’d get used to seeing me around. And there’d be no stories about fakes for you to hear. And maybe you’d…” Redd sighed. He looked up at Tom with an earnestness the raccoon had never seen from him before. “I scammed a lot of guys before you. A lot of them were like you—new to the city, hopelessly clueless, grateful for any scrap of guidance. But you were different. I...I do regret what happened between us. What I did to you. It still haunts me.”

“So why did you?” Tom asked, softly. “You know that I loved you.”

Redd’s face twisted in anguish. “I did know. I hate myself every day for ruining what we had. And the worst part is I can’t tell you why I did it. A part of me, a big part of me, didn’t want to. But it was what I’d always done. I didn’t grow up in a nice place, or in a nice home. I learned how to con, how to lie and cheat and survive. I learned how to take care of myself, because no one else was going to. And then you came along, and you didn’t want to use me, and you were clever, and wanted us to be partners, equals. You thought I could be that for you, that I could be up at as high a level as you are, and, and it scared me. It made me think that maybe I didn’t have to be that way anymore. I didn’t have to trick anyone ever again. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t change. I couldn’t make the leap. I fell into old habits, because they were secure, because I knew I could rely on the results. I knew I’d hurt you, but I did it anyway. Because I didn’t trust you, and I didn’t trust myself.”

Tom felt as if his heart was breaking again, but in a different way. Redd’s confession was a raw, sad thing.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I...I still want you in my life. In whatever way you’ll have me.”

There was a long silence between them. The hyacinths swayed gently around them in the cool sea breeze.

Redd had hurt Tom deeply. On one level, Tom did forgive him. Redd had suffered the consequences of his actions. He’d gained money, but he’d lost Tom’s affections, lost the chance for an honest living. On another level, Tom could not open his heart fully to the fox again. Redd claimed that he had changed, and he certainly seemed repentant. But they would remain only acquaintances, perhaps friends, at the most. He simply could not trust Redd to the extent he had in the past, and he doubted he ever would.

“What book did Flurry give you?”

“What? Oh.” Redd blinked. He checked the title. “Bark Antony and Kleopawtra.”

“Perhaps you could read it aloud to the kids, tonight. They’d like that.”

A tentative smile spread slowly across Redd’s face.

He accepted the olive branch.

“Fine, but you’re voicing Bark Antony.”

The pair of them returned to the Cranny, walking shoulder to shoulder.

#reddnook #tom nook #redd #ac #animal crossing #animal crossing: new horizons #my fic #also you know flurry was eavesdropping on that drama #with binoculars

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neewollah-dorm · 4 years ago

Text

How Neewollah would operate in the game

More so a series of events than actual like, story story written out. More so the beats than everything in depth and detail.

The beginning of the arc has sprinkled in a lot of hushed whispers of other students about the vague 'game' or about 'bets' being placed to them and others anxious that they didn't make a wrong bet or that their bet actually went through and didn't get duped into money being lost cause they got tricked.

With those whispers and rumors going around about a soon to happen ‘session’. Ace and Deuce definitely want to stick their noses where things don’t belong and are very intrigued with what they hear the upper classmen talking about so secretively. Thus when inevitably Ace can’t keep his mouth shut and is asking and talking about it so freely and openly it will catch the attention of Rowdon. Whom, if i should remind people, is more of the muscle that makes sure that people don’t talk about it. Not so openly at the least.

So Rowdon would be quite an intimidating force and especially so for the Adeuce duo thanks to them wanting to find out what they can. I’m sure the two probably end up getting quite a bit roughed up that lead to more interest unfortunately in this session but also probably leading for Yuu to going to the Neewollah to personally talk to the dorm leaders about Rowdons actions. Sure they hadn’t seen Rowdon do anything to the duo but...with their insistence and how they try to turn the other way whenever Rowdon even shows any trace is worrisome.

Yuu and Grim probably end up demanding Rowdon take them to Neewollah. Which Rowdon will shock them with nodding “Tomorrow. Same time, meet me here! Kekeke.” In which Rowdon will be dragging them personally towards the mirror without explaining anything which is honestly quite terrifying. They get dragged in through with burlap sack tied over their heads and then shoved into a moving enchanted bathtub while they make their way to the dorm building. Obviously in a homage to the movie.

Its a lot of alluding to how busy Ammiras is and how its rare hes seen unless its for scheduled events and usually you need to mark down when you meet with him if its so important and cant be solved in a few minutes. Which drives Tallis up the wall that he has to deal with so many of the dorm leader responsibilities on his own, but that’s just how it is around here and it was like that last year too when Tallis took up the vice dorm leader position.

A lot of the inside Neewollah portion is dealing getting to see the relationship between Rowdon and Tallis which is quite a bit odd but also it’s where theres a few small and quick interactions with Ammiras that was busy about and also coming to pick up reports the others in Neewollah have dropped off. He’s quite a bit hospitable and kind but he makes sure the stay for Yuu and Grimm isn’t long. Though he did say he’ll ‘talk with Rowdon’ about his actions and that he’s ‘So sorry something could potentially harmful could have happened, he’ll investigate when he has the time further’ . Ammiras personally would escort Yuu and Grim out of Neewollah, back in the enchanted bathtub and with the burlap sacks over their head again [Though Grimm probably was just stuffed in a bag fully]. Oh well the cat’s out of the bag when they get to leave Neewollah, he’s fine.

Cause its getting close to when 'The Day’ happens, when the place will open in a specific area and only people who have placed bets know when to go precisely in and with the right code that they better memorize or they wont be able to come in at all and will just flat out lose their money if they cant keep their shit together. its high stakes and secretive and i bet grim really wants to get in there and see whats up because they hear you can even learn high and secret spells most of the public don’t have access to that makes it very alluring for those wanting better magical prowess. So theres more than just monetary prizes to win. Obviously its around a very high stress time for Ammiras because he needs to keep everything organized on everyone as hes the only one to handle all this because if only one needs to keep a secret then the secret will stay secret. He has to write reports for Crowley, he has to deal with a snoop that might actually end up in the place if he isn't careful. People aren’t being careful with how much they’re talking as much as they used to. Not to mention the prefect of Ramschackle seems to be butting their head into this business and with what’s been following where they go it’s worrisome. Especially since he heard of Azuls ruined contracts, those overblots, so many things. He’s more tense than usual.

its the end where they get to see the underground place thats blacked out and full of glow in the dark leading to more hints of who it could be. It’s got music going, a myriad of different rooms, and a giant door that leads to the ‘pit’ as most like to dub the arena people watch the ‘losers’ compete.

As The Gambler, Ammiras is very showy, hes a proper show man and gets the crowd interested and ready. Though it’s not hard to when most of the crowd know what they’re getting ready to see. People struggling to survive in the pit. When Yuu and Grim stumbled in Ammiras thought it would be a good example for why you don’t meddle. Forcing them in to continue playing like the other penniless losers. However being Yuu and Grim and working together they’ve started ruined the game going on for those who are the rats for the peoples entertainment for the others failings and now this whole thing is tumbling over, people are upset, people want their game, people want their bets, and these upstarts are ruining everything! He hasn’t worked years on this for these stupid first years, a weird racoon and a magic less human to come RUINING! EVERYTHING!

Mostly everyone scatters as soon as as The Gambler starts overblotting, leaving only the few people around in the pit left while people above are getting out of there because they don’t want to be chanced with interacting with The Gambler when overblotted. Behind The Gambler, obviously it would be oogie boogie like the other villians, but i do think Ammiras would show a lot more spider qualities to show its way more like him in the overblottage.

What we’d see in Ammiras memories would be a moment with freshman Ammiras, showing his grandfather in falling health, his sole guardian at this point all the tiers he’s been getting, disregarding practically everything else, no clubs, no friends, no breaks, just having worked as fast as he could to getting all these tiers showing what he’s learned not just only from the school but in the dorm. Ending the little scene with Ammiras assuring he’d come back as dorm leader and get to show off a new dorm outfit. [But that wouldn’t be able to happen as his grandfather passes away before getting to see him as a dorm leader]

In the aftermath of it all hes probably waiting terrified in the dorm room waiting for Crowley to show up, hes an adult, he’d easily be tried for all the things he did, the least offense he could get is expulsion and as a third year.... so close to graduation.

he probably already packed what few things he had just ready for him to come to just leave but then Crowley....doesn't. So Ammiras probably keeps staring at the Yuu and Grim far away whenever hes out and about for classes, obviously distrust and disdain when others aren’t looking. He wonders what they're up to, what they're plotting, why haven't they told Crowley? itd be something that carries over into another chapter for full reconciliation and being on good terms

Ammiras would find them repulsive for being like this and tell them straight to their face "Your tenderheartedness can be so unbelievable. Its disgusting how you want to portray yourself so genuinely like thats the truth of yourself. You don't want me safe at all. Whatever. If it makes you feel so superior fine. Just keep your mouths shut." being very transparent just this once and leaves the room before pausing at the door and turning his head over his shoulder "But thank you. I appreciate you being quiet in the least." "Even if you caused that whole mess in the first place."

it probably just ends up a chill underground club on the weekends with cool glow in the dark and less deadly games and more like a general casino but with the cooler atmosphere. With glow in the dark, actual games to play and ya know learn, still more stacked in Ammiras favor but still those are how casinos go. Actually a lot of the more terrifying and scary equipment from the pit, chains, saws, electrical things, and more probably are more used for decoration behind glass containers so there’s still a bit of edge to the whole look of things...and especially how it started as a reminder. he did as they asked, he held up his end in making the casino both safer, more fair, and more accessible. They just need to shut up and don’t mention whats up though Rowdon probably lets Yuu, grimm and unfortunately the Aduece duo in whenever instead of specific people only because Ammiras doesn't want them feeling slighted for not getting an invite even tho they didn't apply for one basically. Ammiras knows better than to go against the hand that feeds you.

#Ammiras Florence #Tallis Harper #Rowdon acacius #neewollah dorm #overblotting #we get more insight on rowdon in the chapter because hes the main person you interact with #its pretty clear too his crush on Tallis is

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 4 years ago

Text

The Forgotten - Part Three

Here is part three of The Forgotten

Here it is in its entirety

The Aquarium

Raphael had always been….overwhelming, the one to leave her breathless, boneless and tied up in knots after a rough session of love making. He knew what buttons to press, the right pressure to touch at just the right places. Raphael was a master of breaking down walls and getting exactly what he wanted by making Aurora realize she wanted the very same thing. This Raphael was no different.

Aurora could feel her heart in her chest as his sinful lips found the pulse point bringing the skin into his mouth and sucked until the blood vessels burst. As he continued to molest the skin in his mouth Raphael’s left hand moved to her backside gripping the apple of ass and squeezed. Aurora tried; she really did, but found it impossible to stop the moan escaping between her parted lips. Memories flooded back as he pressed her into the side of building with his immense frame while licking at the now red mark that spread across her skin.

Raphael did this regularly when they were hers and hers alone. He’d mark her mostly in the mornings when they’d get a few moments alone and he take the first fuck of the day and the subtle mark on her neck would remind Fearless that he had, had their kunoichi first. It was a game the alphas played on the regular always trying to one up each other which Aurora didn’t mind being the object of their attentions. Being on the receiving end of their insatiable sex drive was something she would never complain about. Mike and Don were nearly as bad but they tended to be a little more submissive to her.

“Raphael.”

“That’s so fuckin’ pretty, say it again.” Raphael husked pressing his knee between her thighs to widen her stance. “Why the fuck do I want ya so bad? Like I’ve been starving for years and you’re the only thing to satisfy my hunger?”

Aurora fought with her body as it responded favorably to his impatient treatment. Her hands shook reaching for the rim of his shell and willed herself not to pull him closer but to keep him at bay. She had to get her libido under control, this was not her Raphael. She took a deep breath and pushed; the mouth that was sampling the column of her throat was detached and growled its warning of displeasure.

It was now she could hear his labored breathing as the disconnect from his body allowed some of her senses to return. Even in the low light Aurora could see his pupils dilated, Raphael’s ravenous sex drive was in full gear and his sights were locked in on the kunoichi. She needed to be quick and utilize all of her tricks because despite the throb between her legs Aurora wasn’t going to give him what he wanted and she could tell he really wanted it.

“Come girly, I can smell ya, I know you want this too. And if we’ve fucked before I know ya can take me.” The eager mutant moved forward again his hands searching to reclaim the roundness of her backside.

Aurora jumped gripping the lip of the roof’s overhang and lifted up and out of range of those gifted three fingered hands. Her legs spread clearing his towering height and using her stomach muscles reared back and launched herself over the mutant landing just behind him.

Raphael fist slammed into the wood siding and whirled around with a manic smile widening over his scarred lips. “Playin hard to get huh? That’s ok cause I love the thrill of the chase. When I catch ya I’m gonna make you scream my name and mark you inside and out. That way Fearless will know who had ya first.” Just then the brute stopped his forward motion and blinked eyeing Aurora carefully. “I’m havin déjà vu right now, like I’ve said those words before. But Leo and I have never…….”

He looked confused running his hand over his scalp before clamping both hands over his skull grunting in pain. “God my skull, it hurts all of a sudden.”

Aurora took the moment of his distraction and kicked the solid turtle in the chest sending him back on his shell. With the quickness of her training she moved over the enormous turtle and pressed under his left arm pit and above his plastron to the right of his clavicle, right where she needed to immobilize the deadly terrapin. The mutant hissed in discomfort as his body succumbed to the pressure points and every muscle in his cumbersome frame let go of its tension leaving him helpless to the tempting woman.

Despite his arms and legs useless his lips still worked just fine, “Ain’t you full of fuckin’ surprises. Pressure points, I’ve only seen Leo use those. Looks like I seriously underestimated your abilities. I promise that won’t happen again. That is unless you plan on killin me beautiful.”

Aurora straddled his hips and leaned down settling her elbows on his chest and her head in her hands. “It’s Aurora, and don’t worry handsome those pressure points will wear off in about 15 minutes. I don’t want you dead I just wanna have a few words. You are having déjà vu because you and Leonardo have both had me, but so has Mikey and Donnie.” Saying his name out loud still hurt but the furrowing brows and a grunt of pain that came from Raphael indicated his brain was trying to access the suppressed memories. “You and Fearless would play a game practically every day. It was called ‘Who fucked the kunoichi first.’ It was a game I enjoyed being included in. You see, I know a lot about you. I know you’re just a little bigger then Leo with a slight curve to the left. You have a long scar that runs from the top of your thigh down to your knee. I know that you love your adonis line stroked.” Her right hand disappeared between them dipping under his waistband to find the well defined line of muscle just under his plastron connecting to his groin.

The immobilized turtle tried tilting his hips up into her fingers as they ran the length of the line coming to a stop just before his cock. “Fuck!” his head dropped back to the tar roof and rumbled as her fingers moved down bypassing the rock hard rod of flesh and the hanging green globes. “Ah come on!”

Aurora leaned down ghosting her lips over his, the tip of her tongue darted out running along his lower lip and he leaned up to catch the appendage sucking it into his mouth. She allowed it briefly having her first taste of Raphael in years. She opened her mouth and swept her tongue into his mouth giving him a deep kiss and broke free. “I also know your little kink.” The pad of her finger ran just under the green sacks tracing the line of flesh just under them. “I know when you get head you love to get your prostate massaged.” Just then her finger ran over the puckered entrance and the brute gasped as the soft pad of her finger pressed against the flesh just enough to make him groan.

“Fucking impossible…ugghh…..fuck……”

“I know every inch of your body Raph.” Her hand moved up again and the palm of her hand finally gave him the attention the mutant had been craving and gripped the pulsing cock firmly. Aurora closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, this was getting way out of hand but she needed his attention, his full attention and she had it now for sure. “As much as I want to ride you until we’re both sweaty and satisfied…”

“Please, dear gods, please do blondie.”

“Your boss isn’t who you think he is Raphael. Bishop took you from me, from the resistance and put something in your bodies to make you obedient.” Her fingers slid down to the base of his shaft and twisted just the way he liked it. “And you Raphael are anything but obedient.

“Fu—hck….What the fuck are you talkin about? Fuckin shell, just-t like that!”

“It’s small and metal or some kind of alloy, we’re not sure. It moves around your body somehow keeping you and your brothers under his control. Keeping millions under his control.” Her hand released his cock and Aurora leaned up much to Raphael’s displeasure.

“I ain’t got nothing in my body controlling me. I ain’t no one’s puppet!”

“Oh I know. You’re not one to take orders, at least without questioning their validity first. It was the main theme of yours and Leo’s fights. But why do you think it hurts when you try to remember? Why you and your brothers are drawn to me? Why the name Donnie pulls at something deep inside you? You had another brother but he disappeared and we had no idea what happened to him. It still haunts us to this day. Can you remember anything prior to five years ago? Your childhood?” Suddenly out of the corner of her eye Aurora could see his finger twitch, it was time to leave.

Her fingers rested on his chest and ran over the hard lines letting out a shaky breath and stood.

“Hey, wait! Where ya going? You can’t leave me like this? Fuckin tease!”

Aurora moved off of him and took a few steps back edging the shadows of the roof. “The feeling is coming back in your body and I can’t be here when it does. I’ll be seein you red…” And with that she disappeared from his view and began her escape listening to the roar of her name fade with the distance.

She didn’t stop; Aurora ran and ran bypassing home base just in case he would take chase. She wouldn’t take any more chances; she did enough of that tonight. Keeping to the darkness Aurora slipped below the streets and made the trek to her own personal hideout.

The lair had been abandoned shortly after Bishop earned his edge in the war. The turtles and Aurora moved to the resistance’s hideout to stay close to the news and the help. So the lair was still only known to a select few. Since the five original tenants were either gone or unable to remember its location only Aurora, Casey and April knew of its existence.

Aurora made a trip to the lair at least once a month to make sure everything was running and that it was still stocked just in case of emergencies. Just in cases the resistance fell and they needed a new place to lay low.

The vacant rooms still hurt to look at, Donnie’s lab sat with abandoned machines and projects never to be finished again. The room with the rice paper doors had been missing its owner for the longest. Running her fingers along the teak wood frame Aurora pushed it open and kneeled at the opening. In the middle of the room was a beautiful ornate Japanese table and sat upon it was a green urn filled with the remains of Master Splinter.

“Good evening Sensei, I know it’s been a while since I’ve visited but I figured you’d like an update on your sons. I had a run in with Raph this evening; he didn’t try to kill me this time so that was a bonus. I had to use a few of my tricks to get him to listen but I think I might have moved a few brain cells around a bit. I..may have kissed him but it was unavoidable. “Her eyes lifted to the vessel and let out a heavy sigh. “Ok maybe it wasn’t but….it’s been so long and I was weak. He did have something interesting to say. Supposedly I have been a regular topic of conversation with those three. That’s something I guess.” Getting back to her feet Aurora bowed. “Sensei.”

She moved about the lair until she entered their room looking at the giant makeshift bed. She remembered the day Mikey had suggested the consolidation of their sleeping arrangements. He had been so proud of himself he was simply beaming from ear to ear.

“What the fuck did ya do shell for brains?” Raphael was circling the massive arrangement of mattresses, blankets and pillows. Even though he was a bit annoyed Aurora could see the wheels spinning in his head.

Mikey took a few steps back and rushed his creation grabbing Aurora as he went. Aurora screamed in shock as the youngest hurtled her and him onto the mass with a very comfortable collision of bedding. “No more fighting over who gets to sleep with Rora. Now it’s just gonna be a giant turtle pile with her in the middle.”

Leo stood in the doorway with his massive arms crossed over his chest; his face was unreadable as he watched Mikey molest Aurora with his signature enthusiasm.

“I don’t usually say this but…..” Donnie was right next to Leo but his expression was much more readable. The big toothy grin widened and the genius followed the two into the bed helping Mikey strip the kunoichi of her clothes. “This is probably the best idea you’ve ever had Mike.”

“Leo! Raph!” Aurora squealed mock fighting off two of her lovers. “Are you gonna just sit there and let them take advantage of me like this?”

The two alphas finally found each other’s gaze and stepped from their positions. Raphael rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck while Leo slipped a kunai from his thigh holster.

“It looks like you two are taking way too long to rid her of her clothes. I think you need to let a master take over.”

Raphael moved with Leo and lunged, “Not if I get to her first Fearless.”

The introduction to the new bed was christened with their first fivesome leaving Aurora walking a little funny the next few days. She still found it unbelievable she was once in a relationship with four mutant turtles. Aurora remembered how good it was and how amazing each of them were to her. Something that good wasn’t meant to last. Life could be so cruel sometimes, a taste of heaven before it was ripped from her grasp.

Aurora crawled into the bed and pulled the covers over herself. The interaction with Raph had left her shaken and emotionally drained, something she was not expecting for the nights events. She had nearly given in to his advances and that worried her. But then again the closer he got and the longer he was in close proximity he seemed to lose more and more control. As she mentioned things from his past Raph’s head began to hurt as if the memories were trying to resurface. Maybe she should have given in?

Their scent had left the room long ago but the indents from their shells remained. Her fingers trailed along the massive divots imagining their slumbering bodies just next to her. She imagined Raphael turning to her and his honey eyes opening to find her staring at him.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m just imagining you guys here with me.” Her hand reached out and ran her palm across his cheek smiling as he leaned into the touch. “I miss you.”

Raphael moved closer running his fingers through Aurora’s hair gripping the back of her skull gently, “We may not realize it but we miss you too. But I’m hopin’ you guys can figure those fuckin little things out. I wanna come home; we wanna come home to you.”

“We’re working on it I promise. It’s just gonna take a little longer without Don here to head the charge. We’ll get you home; we’ll get all of you home or die trying.”

“Nah Rora don’t do that. I can’t fuck you into next year when I’m free of this bullshit if you’re dead. You need to stay alive and strong cause this isn’t gonna get easier, it’s only gonna get harder.” Raphael leaned in giving her his signature smirk. “Speaking of harder….”

Aurora closed her eyes and waited, but like all of her other day dreams those lips never came. No arms came to claim her. By the time she opened her eyes Raphael was gone and his indent cold as death. Tears began to form in her eyes as she stared at where bulky terrapin had just been laying. She was tired, so fucking tired.

The next thing Aurora knew, she was being jolted awake to the com flush in her ear blowing up with a familiar worried voice.

“Base to White Skull, base to White Skull. Where the fuck are you!?” April’s angry voice boomed in her ear. Just under the irritation Aurora could hear the fear in the back of her throat clawing at her subconscious praying her friend wasn’t captured or worse….. dead.

She must have fallen asleep, poor April had enough to worry about. Pressing the com in her ear Aurora yawned and replied quickly, “This is White Skull to base. My apologies I had an unannounced visit from Red Bear. I was unsure if I was being followed so I took refuge in the aquarium just in case. I didn’t want to compromise the base just in case he had gotten the best of me.”

“Are you alright?” April’s voice instantly softened understanding the code words and knowing she was safe.

Aurora let out a heavy sigh and nodded to mostly herself, “Yeah I’m ok, I must have fell asleep. I’ll return at dawn.”

“Be careful White Skull, I…..we’ll see you in a few hours. Over and out.”

As the com went cold Aurora sat up pushing the blankets from her body. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she made her way to the kitchen for something to drink.

The genius’s sewage powered generator was still working like a dream. As long as the human race still occupied New York City there would always be an endless amount of human waste. Donnie had figured out a way to harness that power and turn it into unlimited power for the Lair. The lights remained functional, along with all the kitchen appliances as well as the bathrooms. God she missed him.

The fridge was the least supplied appliance. It held perishables and in a secret lair uninhabited most of the time it was unwise to keep it stocked with items that would go bad quickly. The freezer held most of the food and the fridge held water, pop and butter.

Pulling out a bottle of water she cracked the top and downed the whole contents in one gulp.

“Fuck!” Aurora growled throwing the now empty bottle in the trash. “My thermos! Now I gotta go get it.”

Just then a burst of light from Donnie’s lab distracted Aurora from her lost item. In a flash her hands went the hilts of her katana and unsheathed them with a low sing. Her feet made no sound as the kunoichi made her way to the partly closed door currently displaying a spectacular show of multi colors.

She could hear electricity snap and crackle and a low hum of some kind as the light show pulsed faster and faster. As she reached the partially open door to Donatello’s lab Aurora peered through the crack and felt her heart stop and burst all at the same time.

Her katanas slipped from her grip clattering to the ground at her feet. In a hurried burst of energy her fingers found the edge of the metal doors and pushed with all her might.

“DONNIE!?”

@imthegreenfairy88 @alonia143 @ravn-87 @waterstar2016 @tmnt-bucklover

#tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fandom #tmnt fic #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #The Forgotten #Part Three

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bgharison · 5 years ago

Text

Nincompoop -- an H50 Fix-it coda 10.22

Prompt from @rijariz

So I really want Danny to say "I told you not to make me come looking for you, you stubborn Ass. But before we go back I have some conditions. No exes, no mysteries, and no more 3 letter agencies please!!!"

Thanks for the prompt!! This was written kind of quickly, un-beta’d, and I might polish it later, but I hope it does service to your wonderful idea. I ended up splitting up Danny’s dialogue, but I think it worked. :-)

***

“Danny,” Steve sighed, closing his eyes and gripping the phone tight. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“I almost didn’t answer; I didn’t recognize this number,” Danny said. “Not that I mind -- texting is fun and all, but yeah, it’s . . . it’s good to hear your voice, too. This your new number? The team will want --”

“I’m calling from a payphone. It’s -- “ he stopped. “I started thinking, maybe I shouldn’t keep in touch.”

Danny was silent. Steve could feel the hurt and betrayal from thousands of miles away.

“We still don’t know if the threat is over, there could be more . . . I can’t do this, Danny, I can’t keep putting people I love in danger.”

“Steven. Don’t do this. You plunge yourself into that hole of guilt . . . you go too deep, there’s no coming back.”

Now Steve fell silent. He had promised to come back, but maybe it was safer if he didn’t.

“Steve? Steven!”

“I love you, Danny. Take good care of Eddie for me.” He hung up the phone before he could change his mind; before his emotions betrayed him.

Danny slowly thumbed the call off his phone screen, then pulled up another contact and pressed call.

“Yeah, Catherine? I’m gonna need Steve’s location. It’s time to bring our boy home.”

*******

Danny pulled the scarf up around his neck, hunched against the wind and a few determined pellets of freezing rain, as he made his way to the rental car building. The inconveniences of flying in to a small airport, he supposed.

The Jeep he’d requested was fueled up and ready for him. He tossed his bag into the passenger seat as he climbed in, wincing a bit. He hadn’t been back to driving for very long, and the flight had already stiffened his healing muscles. At least the bruising was completely gone. It had been weeks before Tani could look at him without tears.

The freezing rain quickly gave over to snow, making the drive even more peaceful. He thought nothing of the conditions. Montana snow was still easier than Jersey ice.

He wasn’t surprised to see Steve on the porch as he pulled up to Joe’s ranch. He wondered if there was ever -- would ever -- be a time that Steve wasn’t hyper-aware of his surroundings. He wondered the same for himself, now, as he pulled himself carefully, stiffly, out of the driver’s seat.

"I told you not to make me come looking for you, you stubborn ass."

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d look for me here,” Steve said, pulling a blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“Yeah, for someone who needed to get away from memories . . . you picked a weird place for that,” Danny said. He studied Steve, taking in his appearance. His cheeks looked a bit pinched under his thick, soft beard, but his beard was trimmed, his eyes clear. Danny had seen worse. He snorted as he took in Steve’s bare feet.

“Must be slipping if you could track me,” Steve said. “Or was it a lucky guess?”

“You gonna let me come in, or you gonna get frostbite on your toes?”

Steve smiled at him then, genuine and full of affection. Danny felt relief wash over him.

“Get in here, Danno.” Steve held his arms open, and in a few steps, Danny felt himself wrapped tight, cocooned with Steve in the warmth of the blanket.

******

“I can’t believe you low-jacked me,” Steve said, but he was grinning.

“Catherine said she’d tag the one thing you’d never ditch.”

“My Sig?”

“The picture of Grace and Charlie, actually,” Danny said. He raised his eyes to look into Steve’s.

Steve’s breath caught. “I love them. That’s why I can’t come back, Danny. She knew, she knew exactly how to get to me, how to hurt me the most -- I almost lost you. What if it’s not over? Hell, what if someone else I took down decides to come after me? What if they go after the kids?” He stood up abruptly and walked to the fireplace. Resting his hand on the mantel, he turned his back to Danny.

Steve flinched when Danny rested a hand on his back. “Turn around and look at me,” Danny said softly.

Steve turned, reluctantly, and even with his head ducked down, Danny could see tears threatening to well over.

“Steve. You remember the last time I got shot? Did that have anything to do with you?”

Steve shook his head.

“No. That was one of my old cases. That guy could have decided to go after the kids. Thank God he didn’t. But Petterson did, remember? He took Gracie. You’re not the only one who’s made enemies in their line of work, Steven. I have, too. Your dad did. Your mom. And Joe. But you have something they didn’t, Steve, you have a family. An ohana. You taught me that -- you gave me that. And now, instead of turning to that family for comfort -- comfort we all needed -- you ran.”

“I’m exhausted, Danny, like never before. I thought, getting away, getting some space, would . . . and then I almost lost you, because of a vendetta against me and I thought -- I wanted to get as far away as I could, before anyone else got hurt. I didn’t want to risk hurting the team any more by staying.”

“You hurt us by leaving,” Danny said softly. “You hurt me, leaving.”

“Danny, I’m so sorry,” Steve said. “I should have been there for you.”

“Did leaving help? Has some space and distance helped you, Steve?”

Steve shook his head, the tears finally spilling over. “No,” he rasped. “God, no.”

Danny pulled him into his arms, Steve tucking his face into his uninjured shoulder. Danny could feel a few hot tears splash onto his neck.

“You needed a vacation and instead chose an exile,” Danny said, rubbing Steve’s back. “Nincompoop.”

Steve chuckled and held Danny tighter.

“I’m pretty sure we’re both exhausted,” Danny said. “Come on, let’s get some rest. Then we’ll talk.”

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to follow Steve down the hall and into the bedroom he was using. Steve shucked off his jeans and pulled on a pair of soft, faded flannel pants.

“My bag’s still in the Jeep,” Danny said, but he was already unbuttoning his jeans and flannel shirt. Steve reached into a drawer and pulled out a similar pair of flannel pants and tossed them to Danny. It was easy enough for him to shed his jeans, but he winced as he tried to ease his arms out of his shirt.

“Let me help,” Steve murmured. He gently, carefully slipped the shirt off Danny’s broad shoulders and tossed it aside. His fingers traced carefully over Danny’s black t-shirt, where he knew the bullet wound was, feeling the small bandage still present. “It’s healing?”

“Yeah, Steve. It’s healing just fine.” Danny pulled on the flannel pants, shooting a glare at Steve’s smirk when he rolled the hem up. “Shut up and gimme some socks, would’ja?”

The bed was soft, the fluffy quilts just the right weight, and Steve’s shoulder the perfect fit. This was different than sharing the bed in DC. There was no hesitancy, no caution. DC had been about efficiency and Steve’s raw anguish. This . . . this was mutual exhaustion and mutual comfort.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Steve said, rubbing his fingers absently over Danny’s bicep. “You were already living in my house, this should have happened a while ago.”

“Well. Technically, nothing’s happened yet,” Danny said. He thought they were on the same page, done with fighting this thing between them, but what if --

His thought was cut off by Steve leaning up and over, pressing his lips to Danny’s in a soft, sweet, lingering kiss.

“There. Now, technically something has happened.”

“Can I hope for more to happen?” Danny asked. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he tried, but Steve looked solemn.

“If you can forgive me,” he said quietly. “And if you can’t, I’ll understand.”

“Goof,” Danny said, wrapping his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss, one that was not quite as soft, or sweet. “Steve. I do forgive you. Yeah, it hurt but . . . I know you were trying to do what you needed to do, to protect us. But next time, listen, hunh? When you get wrapped up inside your head and feel like you need to run, listen when I ask you to stay, yeah?”

*****

Danny woke slowly, the smell of coffee and bacon drifting in from the kitchen. He sat up in bed, stretching out his stiff shoulder, and stopped in surprise at the sight of Steve’s bag, open and mostly packed at the end of the bed. He slipped out of bed and padded toward the kitchen, careful not to trip on the too-long pajama pants.

“Babe?”

Steve grinned and poured a second mug of coffee, holding it out to Danny.

Danny accepted it and took a grateful sip. “Your bag is almost packed.”

“Good work, detective.”

“You thinking of running away some more?”

“Thinking of running home,” Steve said slowly. “With you. For good -- no running; not me, not you.”

Danny pretended to think it over. “Okay. But before we go back I have some conditions.”

“Okay,” Steve said cautiously.

“No exes, no mysteries and no more 3 letter agencies please!!!"

“Danny, you have to know, Catherine wasn’t --” Steve started earnestly.

Danny held up a hand to interrupt him. “Babe, I know. I, ah, might have been the one to suggest Catherine get you through the first leg of your little expedition. She told me, it’s not that way between the two of you . . . explained it when we were talking about putting that locator on you. I don’t just mean Catherine. No more Lyns, or Ambers, or Brookes . . . no more half-assed attempts to convince ourselves that there’s anyone else for us but each other.”

Steve nodded enthusiastically.

“And for the love of God, Steven -- I don’t care who comes with an envelope or a message from the beyond -- no more. Stop letting your past hurt you. You’re not responsible for the choices of your parents. You don’t owe them anything. You don’t owe the CIA or the NSA or any other alphabet a damn thing.” Danny didn’t try to keep the anger out of his voice.

“The Navy?” Steve asked quietly.

Danny heart skipped a beat. “You’d give it up?”

“For you.”

“Babe. Asking you not to love the Navy, to cut yourself off from your fellow sailors . . . God, your brothers . . . no. No way. But no crazy stunts! No more jumping in with Junior on crazy missions!”

“I’ll ask you first, I promise,” Steve said, grinning.

“Ask -- first -- no, no, Steven, that is not --” Danny stopped, narrowing his eyes at Steve. “You’re joking.”

Steve shrugged. “Mostly.” He turned back to the stove and cracked some eggs into a skillet.

“So?” Danny asked. Steve looked back at him over his shoulder.

“So, what?”

“So, do you agree to my conditions?”

“Yes, Danny,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I agree to your terms, I accept your conditions, nag, nag -- here. Eat your breakfast. We need to get to the airport, catch the next plane out.”

Danny took a bite of perfect scrambled eggs and moaned softly. Steve raised his eyebrows and gave him a heated glance.

“I never even got my bag out of the car,” Danny said.

“Well, that’s gonna make packing real easy for you, buddy.”

“Or . . . you did, at one point, want to get away. Get some space. Clear your head.” Danny gestured around the ranch house, the wide porch, and the peaceful scenery around them. “You could still do that.”

Steve put his plate down across from Danny’s with a thunk. “I thought you wanted me to come home.”

“Oh, I do. Absolutely. But . . . we’re here already. We both could use some time away, some time to rest, and heal . . . together. Don’t you think?”

Steve nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice, Danny.”

Danny grinned back at him. “And, you know, we can see if . . . maybe that something more we mentioned will happen.”

Steve stood up quickly.

“Ste -- where you going?” Danny waved his fork at Steve’s still full plate.

“I’m getting your bag out of the car and calling Catherine to say thank you,” Steve said.

“Nincompoop!” Danny called after him.

“Your nincompoop,” Steve yelled back over his shoulder.

Danny shook his head in resignation. Steve still didn’t have socks on.

#H50FixIt #coda 10.22 #mcdanno #mostly fluff #prompted ficlet

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micheleblack · 4 years ago

Text

Black? No. Brown? No. Blond? Maybe...

This was the part about being a Metamorphmagus that Teddy disliked the most. Too many choices. Not just an outfit, but an entire person to go with it.

Glancing at the clock, Teddy cursed at how much time he’d wasted in front of the mirror. To match his frustration, he settled on black hair, styled into a fauxhawk, even sharpening his facial features. A final look in the mirror revealed no trace of Teddy Lupin. With a leather jacket, transfigured from a worn jumper, in hand, he cast a Disillusionment Charm over himself—not even bothered anymore by the sensation of a cracked egg traveling down his body.

---

CRACK!

“Jesus! What was that?” someone yelped.

Shit! Teddy cursed his recklessness. He should have known a few patrons would have found a bit of privacy in the alley beside the club by now. Breaking the Statute of Secrecy was not on his to-do list tonight. He held still, thankful he’d taken at least some precaution.

“Probably just a car backfiring. Now get that pretty mouth back where it belongs,” came another voice. The telltale sounds of blowjob followed. Teddy had no interest in sticking around to watch though, he was already late.

---

Teddy dropped the charm once safely inside the club. It would have been impossible to sneak through the wall of bodies, and besides he needed to be seen for this part. He swept the crowd with his eyes, searching. Not spotting what he wanted, he headed to the bar.

“What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a mar—I mean I’ll take a pint.” Stay in character, he berated himself. He sipped the beer while scanning the club more, hoping he hadn’t missed his chance. There! On the dance floor, practically glued to another man was the brown-haired man he was after. James Potter always came to this muggle club to destress after a Quidditch match. And in one form or another, so did Teddy.

Now that he had found James, Teddy was content to wait and watch. James moved with grace, be it on a broom or on the dance floor. The man behind him, in contrast, did little more than grind into James’s behind. A spark of possessiveness flared up inside Teddy, but he remained where he was. He wouldn’t break them up. It was James’s choice who he danced with. When the man gestured to James to head off the dance floor though, James shook his head. Nothing could be heard over the music blaring, but the rebuff was clear. Teddy left his mostly full beer on the bar and went to try his luck.

---

“Care for a fuck, hot stuff?” Teddy growled into James’s ear, draping his arms around him as they both began moving along to the throbbing beat.

“You too?” James chuckled as he glanced over his shoulder but gave no sign of recognition. “I’m just here to dance.”

James’s body was so warm, it seared any part of Teddy it touched. Gladly, Teddy threw himself into the heat, pulling James flush against his front. “Then let’s dance.” They found a rhythm and moved as one, not always in sync with the music—Teddy could barely hear it with his head so far in the clouds—but always together.

At some point Teddy realized he’d gotten hard. His erection now pressed against James’s backside, but neither of them acknowledged it and their dance continued. From his vantage point behind him, Teddy could see the sweat building on James’s flushed skin. Feeling bold, Teddy added an extra inch or two to his height, so he could properly envelop James. He felt James shiver all along their connected bodies.

James turned his head to the side. “I’ve changed my mind. I could go for more than a dance.”

“Your place or mine?” Teddy said it with such confidence. James always chose his own place. He was so predictable that way, Teddy thought playfully as he ground his erection harder into the soft flesh of James’s ass. Drawing a moan from the smaller man. Teddy was getting better and better at this. Soon he’ll be—

“Yours,” James finally said and Teddy froze. Fuck...

---

The cab ride was long, but by the last few blocks Teddy had regained his confidence. Keep him occupied and he won’t have time to notice anything else, he repeated in his head as he trailed kisses along James’s exposed collarbone.

With a nonverbal Alohomora, he pulled his front door open and held it for James. His eyes locked onto James’s ass in his tight jeans as he walked past, but soon regretted the polite door gesture when he realized James had a clear view of his flat. Teddy raced in after him and pushed James up against the closing door, their lips meeting for the first time that night.

“Someone’s eager,” James chuckled against his lips but happily joined in, opening his mouth to allow Teddy’s tongue access. James’s hands buried themselves in Teddy’s black hair as Teddy’s snaked their way down to grip James’s firm ass. They kissed with wanton abandon, filling the room with harsh pants and the occasional clink of teeth. Teddy’s erection was back, and this time he could feel a matching hardness against it. He thrust his hips against James, who broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of Teddy’s neck.

Without James to kiss, Teddy’s eyes stared at the familiar sight of his front door. James was in his house. The realization made him feel light-headed, but it also reminded him that the game could be up at any moment. James started sucking on Teddy’s neck, no doubt trying to leave a mark. Teddy let one appear—he could always remove it later. Taking advantage of James’s newfound endeavor, Teddy shouldered the other man’s weight, having to grow his muscles just a bit to bear the load, as he carried his brown-haired prize to his bedroom.

---

“Fuck!” James moaned loudly, face buried in one of Teddy’s pillows as Teddy’s face was buried between the cheeks of his ass, lavishing praise against the pucker. “So good!” He loved how responsive James was to him. James gave him his all each and every time. The tip of his tongue finally slipped inside and James let out another string of curses, “Merlin’s balls!” to which Teddy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Merlin, huh?” Teddy teased. James squirmed under him, reeling from the momentary loss of the hot tongue against his hole. Face down on the mattress, ass in the air, and pants pulled down around his thighs, James was the sexiest sight possible. Teddy planned to bottle this memory and wank to it every chance he could. “Tell me what you want next.”

“Just fuck me already,” James whined.

“I need to find some lube first,” Teddy replied, but James ignored his words. Teddy watched as, with a wave of his hand, James wandlessly cast a lubrication charm on himself. His hole glistened and accepted Teddy’s first finger with ease. What in the world—

“More!” James demanded and Teddy quickly added a second finger. “Yes, right there.” Teddy didn’t feel in control at all anymore as James rocked his hips, fucking himself on Teddy’s fingers.

With effort, he found his bearings again and started meeting James’s hips with sharp thrusts, drawing sharp gasps from the man under him. Teddy’s stiff cock strained against his tight pants, which he quickly vanished—not wanting to pause the action to take them off properly. His fingers withdrew from inside James, who scooted back, trying to follow the retreating fingers. He lifted his head off the bed to try and see why the pleasure had stopped, but quickly collapsed back when Teddy thrusted inside in a single stroke.

“Ahh...” James moaned and his toes curled as his body accepted Teddy’s long cock. Balls deep, Teddy stalled, overcome with pleasure. Inside James felt amazing. Hot, Tight, Slick. He pulled back, teasing the rim with the head of his cock, before thrusting back inside. This time he didn’t wait at all, laying into James’s ass with a barrage of powerful thrusts. James took them all, pressed further into the mattress and babbling pleading words into the pillow.

Without James’s loud moans, the room suddenly felt quiet, despite the sound of skin slapping together or Teddy’s labored breathing. “Your ass feels amazing,” Teddy moaned directly into James’s ear and the walls surrounding his cock tightened, confirming he’d been heard. Getting close, his body told him, and he planted his knees between James’s thighs and hoisted him off the mattress and onto his lap. The room once again filled with the sounds of James’s voice.

“Fuck!” James shouted as Teddy lowered the man back down onto his cock, the new position allowing him to go even deeper. He reached around and found James’s cock. The tip was slick with pre-cum, which he gathered in his palm and used to slick the shaft as he stroked in time with his own thrusts. “I’m close,” James confirmed.

“Where do you want me to come?” Teddy wasn’t sure why he suddenly asked, but he just needed to hear James speak more in this moment.

“Inside. Come inside me,” James panted, and then he was coming, shooting jets of come over Teddy’s hand and all over the pillow in front of them. Completely spent, James collapsed backwards onto Teddy’s chest. He released James’s cock and moved his hands to James’s hips, holding him in place as he thrust into James’s quaking body.

“James,” Teddy moaned as he came, holding them together as he pumped his load as deep as he could into the man he loved so much. Both clearly exhausted, he gathered James into his arms and laid them both down on the mattress, being careful not to pull out. Brown locks tickled his nose as he snuggled closer. He felt ready to tell James about all this, confess his feelings, and let him choose if the next time could be for real.

____

altober Day 30: Choices

WeakRevolution’s gloriously smutty goodness.

@altobers-blog @clemandben @eleonorapoe

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thanatosangels · 4 years ago

Note

CONGRATS ON 100 MAE!!! i love your writing, so can i get a 🥰 for kitty?

THANK YOU SO MUCH OMGGG!! <333 this is way longer than i meant it to be but i had so much to say hahhaha

~~~~~

I shouldn't have come.

It was Kit’s first thought as soon as he stepped through the portal.

Holy shit, its hot. That was the second.

Despite growing up in LA, the three years he’d spent in the English rain had clearly changed his body’s temperature regulations. He was used to all encompassing grey dampness - seriously, how can one country have four seasons but they’re all just different variations of rain? - and the scorching sun hurt his eyes and made him sweat uncomfortably.

He took a deep breath, remembered all the advice about ‘just being himself’ that his dad had given him, and made his way up the path.

Inside the LA Institute was much the same hustle and bustle as before. It was like stepping into one of his dreams. Kit was greeted with a whirlwind of kind words and hugs, swiftly chased into the kitchen and handed a steaming cup of tea - “because, you know, you're English now!” Dru smiled brightly - and a chocolate chip cookie. Everybody was asking how he was, what he’d been up to, how were Mina, and Jem, and Tessa, how was his training going. Emma was particularly interested in the answer to that last question, and pulled him aside later to suggest training together so she could give him all kinds of tips and tricks. He realised, with a jolt, that he was slightly taller than her now.

The only person who didn’t greet him was Ty.

As he absentmindedly answered everybody’s questions, he glanced around the kitchen anxiously. Ty was the reason he was here. Maybe not officially, and maybe it wasn't something Kit wanted to tell everyone, but it was the truth regardless. After everyone was finished, and people began to wander away to get back to their day, Kit pulled Julian aside.

“Hey, do you... uhm...,” He ran a worried hand through his hair. “Have you seen Ty?”

Julian gave him a sad sort of half smile. “I think he went down the beach.”

-----------

The water was even bluer than he remembered, and the sand was warm between his toes. He made his way along the beach, trainers and t-shirt in hand. It was too hot for either of them. He was glamoured, so he wasn't worried about mundanes seeing the Marks that now twined their way along his strong arms and chiseled stomach. Sometimes, he had to do a double take when he looked in the mirror because he still didn’t recognise himself, even now. He still thought of himself as the scrawny, lanky, awkward-looking boy of years past.

He kept scanning the beach over and over again, looking for any sign of Ty. There were none.

He kept walking.

He kept walking until he recognised the cave that Ty and he had met with Shade - well, Ragnor Fell - in and a sudden pang shot through his heart at the memory. He walked in slowly, automatically reaching for the witchlight Ty had given him, when he realised he didn’t need it. The cave was already lit.

Kit froze in the small, corridor like hollow at the front of the cave. He stared, wide eyed, at various candles that were littered around the room, the books that were stacked neatly in the corner, and the small, wooden table and camping chair that sat in its centre. But mostly, he stared at the figure sitting at the table. Beautiful. His head was bent over a small gaming console, the Herondale necklace hanging next to Livvy’s locket at his throat, long fingers moving rapidly, black hair curtaining his face, headphones over his ears. Kit blinked, sure he was seeing things, but no.

He’d found Ty.

He drank in the image of him in the dim light. He was taller now, his legs longer, but he had the same slender build. Kit saw the small muscles rippling in his arms under the grey t-shirt he was wearing as his fingers worked. He nearly collapsed. It had been so long, so long since he'd held him on the roof of the London Institute, so long since he’d told him that he loved him, so long since he’d watched him from afar on the beach for the final time, and yet he still felt his heart rate increase and he still wanted to run his hands through the muddle of black hair on his head and he still wanted to part his lips with his own. He still felt the same.

Ty must have sensed the fact he was being watched then, because he turned his head and looked at Kit. His grey eyes, shining like two silver rings in the candlelight, widened in surprise and he stopped playing his game. He was staring at Kit’s chest.

Kit was suddenly acutely aware of the fact he didn’t have a top on. He felt himself flush.

Ty pulled his headphones off, putting them around his neck. The inside of Kit’s wrist throbbed at the sight.

The silence was deafening. They were both just staring; Kit at Ty’s earphones, Ty at Kit’s chest.

Finally, after what was probably seconds but felt like hours, Kit had to say something.

“Uhm.... hey.” He gave a small, awkward wave. Smooth, dumbass.

Ty flicked his eyes away and stared fixedly at the cave wall directly ahead of him. His mouth was in a hard line, and his right hand was tapping out a fast rhythm on the arm of his chair. Kit swallowed hard.

“Why did you leave me?” Ty said, his voice barely above a whisper

Kit felt his heart break in two, right then and there. Tears welled up in his eyes. It took everything in him not to go over and put his arms around Ty, but he knew he wouldn't want that. He dropped to his knees instead, bending his head so his blonde hair would hide his face.

“Because,” his ragged voice caught in his throat. “Because I loved you. Because I still love you, even now. Because you're the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. Because I want to be near you all the time.” Every thought, every word, he’d been holding in for three years seemed to be tumbling out. He didn’t stop them. “Because you make me laugh. Because I want to be there for you. Because i dream about you. Because i need you.” He put his head in his hands as a sobbed racked his body. He could feel Ty looking at him.

“You left because you love me?” The confusion was clear in Ty’s voice.

Kit took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes. But I mainly left because you don’t love me.” It was not accusatory: his voice was hollow and tinny in his own ears.

“But Kit, I do love you.”

Kit snapped his head up.

“What?”

“I do love you.” Ty got up, placed his console on the table and came to sit cross legged in front of Kit, looking directly into his eyes. “Why do you think I’m in this cave? Why do you think I’m wearing this necklace?” He pointed at the Heron. Kit shrugged. “I’m here because this is a place we were together. I come here when i want to be with you. And I wear this because it’s the closest thing I have to being yours. It makes me feel closer to you.” Ty looked down at his hands then, and even in the dim light, Kit could see he was blushing.

“But... but....” It was Kit’s turn to be confused now. “Why didn’t you come to see me today? I had to come and find you. You weren’t there.” He was aware he sounded like a whining child, but he couldn't help it.

"I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say, and i didn’t know want to say anything in front of the others, and i thought you might...” His voice wavered. “I thought you hated me.”

“Oh, Ty,” Kit reached out for his hand, instinctively, and Ty let him take it. “I could never hate you, not ever.”

Kit turned his own wrist over to show the small outline of Ty’s headphones he had tattooed there. Ty traced it with his finger wonderingly. His touch sent chills all the way through Kit’s body.

“I have spent the last three years waking up every morning and loving you even more than i did the day before, even when i didn’t think that was possible.” Kit’s voice was low and steady. Ty laced their fingers together. “I have spent the last three years dreaming about you, and crying when i realise you're not there.” Kit leaned forward, putting his face level with Ty’s. “I have spent the last three years running away from the best person i’ve ever met,” he dropped his voice to a low whisper. “But i don’t I don’t want to run anymore.”

And then his lips were on Ty’s, and everything in the world made sense.

#kitty #mae 100 #kitty fanfiction #the dark artifices #tda #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #dru blackthorn #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #tsc #the shadowhunters chronicles #shadowhunters #tessa gray #jem carstairs #mina carstairs #tsc fanfiction

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years ago

Text

Lost in Time - ch 19

"I'm sorry - I'm not usually forgetful, I'm just dumb today."

About halfway through his patrol Asher had the realization that Eli's story comment DID make sense -- she'd explained her religious beliefs at the memorial service weeks ago, which seemed to revolve around the idea of everyone being born with a story to tell. He was there, he'd heard it, and he was kicking himself for forgetting it.

Across the table Eli shrugged. "We're both running on zero sleep and had more important things to focus on, it's not a big deal. I can still explain it all again or more in-depth if you're curious."

The Round Table was mostly empty; they were a bit early for the lunch rush. A headache was starting behind Asher's left eye so he was glad it was quiet in here. "Only if you feel up to it. I'm still really sorry."

"I don't mind. So, like I mentioned before-"

She abruptly stopped and Asher could see her eyes flick over his shoulder toward the door so he shifted enough to peer behind him. Harrison had just come in and he had a girl following along behind him; Asher had seen her around town a lot lately. ((Continued below cut))

Eli watched the two of them for a moment then turned her attention back to him. "Well, that's a good reminder that I need to stop by the clinic for another bottle of aspirin."

"Man, I could use one of those at the moment," Asher sighed. "I've stayed awake way longer than this but it doesn't mean it's easy on the body."

She nodded, then abruptly stood. "Actually, be right back."

As she headed over to where Harrison and the girl were seating themselves at a booth Asher shifted again to give himself a full view of the room; it wasn't that he expected their suspect to waltz in through the door but knowing there was someone out there lurking with bad intentions had his paranoia cranked to the max, and no matter how farfetched a scenario may seem he felt he shouldn't ignore anything his brain spat out at him.

So he watched as Eli chatted with the two at the table briefly then came back and flopped back down in her seat; right as she returned Sonia came to the table with their food and drinks.

"What was that about?" he asked as he grabbed his fork and speared a chunk of tofu off his plate.

"Was asking Harrison to tell Dr. Xu that I won't be coming to my usual session tonight, in case I don't actually make it to the clinic today to let him know myself."

"Ah." He stuffed the tofu in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "-I hope you aren't planning on pulling another all-nighter."

She shook her head and downed half the lemonade in her glass in four huge gulps. "-I don't PLAN on it just yet but I want my schedule open in case I have to. Once I'm off the clock for today I'm going to help Selene get whatever transmitters she has the parts for assembled and ready to go."

"Need some help?"

Again she shook her head. "It'd take me longer to teach you how to put it together than it would for me to do it myself. I appreciate the offer though."

"If you...you know, need anything. At all. You can ask me, you know?"

She drained her glass and set it aside before finally starting in on her food. "I know."

They both ate quickly (a little TOO quickly in Asher's case - now he had a slightly queasy stomach AND the start of a headache) and paid their respective bills before heading toward the Corps building. As they passed the graveyard Asher could see one of the construction folks - it was the tall blonde man (that was who had designed that stone in the first place, he thought) - carefully examining the burnt surface of the tombstone. Since it was just polished rock Asher was certain the man could grind off and re-polish it without too much trouble; he was still mad that someone had defaced the grave but in a way thankful that it would be easy to restore. And, should the vandal decide to-

"--you know, I think we ought to post a person here for a few nights," he said as he slowed to a stop and then turned to backtrack to the graveyard's gates.

"You think whoever did it will come back that quickly?"

He nodded. "Darren's stone and the others for your squad mates all look sort of similar - if whoever this is is purposely singling you out they might deface the rest of these and might be brave or stupid enough to come back soon."

"I'd think they'd expect us to be keeping a close eye on the place."

"They might, they might not, they might not even care. But." Asher turned to point down the hill the way they'd come and then used his finger in the air to trace along the line of a stone archway they'd walked under. It was dotted with windows and had an old, iron-banded wooden door that was heavily padlocked; the inside area was used to store the furniture needed for festivals (he'd helped put the benches and chairs used at the memorial services away inside there). The windows were tiny and probably a little dusty but if someone took up a position at that middle window at the top of the arch they could probably see the entire cemetery from there, and it would be hard to spot them in the dark at that height from the ground. "If we hide someone up there, they wouldn't even know we're here."

Eli followed his hand and eyed the archway, then shrugged. "Right, so, another all-nighter then."

"You DID say you were keeping your schedule open."

"Let's check in with Arlo and see what's what before we pencil a stakeout onto the agenda."

-------------------------------------------

Her task today had sounded easy on the surface: cut open the flaps of seed sacks, arrange them in a wagon. They were heavy but not so much that she couldn't carry them, but the knife she'd been given to cut the sacks open seemed little better than a butter knife -- it was good enough to cut the thread sewing the sacks shut but not sharp enough to cut into the burlap itself, which was proving to be a problem because this last sack was sewn shut too tightly for her to get the knife in under the flap, and she couldn't saw a hole in the burlap either. She could sort of get the tip of the knife wedged in under each individual stitch and snip it loose that way but that meant cutting almost every stitch, by itself, one by one.

As she picked and struggled with the thread the barn door creaked behind her and someone's shadow fell over the floor; it was too beefy to be Sophie or Emily, and not wide enough to be McDonald.

"I don't have time to play tag right now," she called out without turning around.

"I prefer checkers."

That was one of the answers she'd been expecting so she turned around to face the man that had walked into the barn. He was...very muscular. Maybe all muscle, and the only hair on his head was a black mustache that was the same width as his lips. Lily hadn't seen him before but he definitely had to have been recruited solely for strength.

"I hope you're good at hide and seek." A phrase meant to ask 'were you noticed or followed?'

The man shook his head, pulled a folded piece of paper out of one of the multiple pockets on his shirt and dropped it onto the floor, then disappeared out of the barn as quickly as he'd appeared.

Lily grunted and with a yank that hurt her arms all the way up to her shoulder blades finally tore the loose stitches apart and the top of the seed bag was finally open; after a moment to let the tingling in her fingers fade she hauled the bag over into the wagon with the rest of them before she retrieved the paper and looked it over.

>FR, KA, WIN - STBY >PL, des pln. PK SEC. > 385. > Markest > 3t. Har wh ws arc n

Ah, good - everything was falling into place. There were three more operatives on standby, Harrison's family had been secured, and their escape pilots would be hiding out somewhere to the east waiting for their signal to move in and get them out.

She did have an immediate surge of annoyance though at the identity of their escape pilot: 385. Sky Sharks. Lily hated those damn pirates... They were paid an obscene amount of money to remain loyal to Duvos, and she knew without a doubt that if someone with deeper pockets came along then the Sharks would switch sides without even blinking. WHY did Duvos insist on relying on them? It was baffling, and all she could console herself with was it HAD to be more than money...it wouldn't make sense otherwise to have such a glaring weakness in their field operations.

That last line of the message indicated that a meeting was set up for tonight at the stone arch that was to the west of the harbor; this was good, as they all needed to meet face to face to identify one another, discuss any last-minute questions regarding their responsibilities and expectations, AND she needed to find out which of them had defaced the grave -- rumors had raced through town and she'd already spotted someone examining it to determine how to repair it. If it hadn't been one of the agents sent to help then it was one hell of a coincidence...and if it HAD been one of them then she was curious about how they'd learned about Summers and how much they'd learned, and what exactly they intended to do with that knowledge. Prior to finding those counseling records Lily hadn't really heard anything about the woman that would've pointed her out as something special -- Portians were not immune to gossip but they did seem polite enough to not include a ton of personal details and at the time none of it had seemed to be important enough to look into. Lily knew that if she'd known about Summers prior to her meeting with Xan then it was likely they'd have abandoned the plan to steal the AI and would instead be more concerned with snatching the woman.

Was that what they were hoping to accomplish? Lily hadn't received ANY orders from Xan regarding a change in their target, and it would be a lot more finicky to try and smuggle a woman out versus mechanical parts. It was an absolute certainty that if Xan had changed his mind on their target then she, as head of this operation, would have heard about it first... Maybe it WAS a coincidence, as impossible as it seemed. Or maybe whoever did it thought they were...helping? Spread the security out thin? That was more plausible than coincidence but ran a high risk of jeopardizing the mission instead since Lily already knew Portia had called on the help of the Flying Pigs and it wouldn't be hard for them to request a few more.

No... Whatever the reasoning, it had to stop. If they got a chance to grab the woman on their way out then fine, whatever. But she wasn't about to let this mission get sidetracked away from their ordered target -- not unless Xan himself sent her word to change the plan where she had that proof in her hand or heard it from Xan directly.

Outside the barn she heard hoof beats; quickly she stuffed the paper deep into her pocket and pretended to be fussing over the seed bags in the back of the rickety wagon. A few moments later and both barn doors opened wide as Sophie's granddaughter came into view leading a rather large horse by a rope - it wasn't proper reins but just a simple braided leather cord hooked to one of the rings on the halter and she had the loose end wrapped around her wrist with plenty of slack in the lead for the horse to look about.

"Hey there, Lily. I'm sorry - Granny didn't tell me you were out here doing this or else I would've come to help you."

Lily scoffed and leaned against the wagon's side. "Oh pfft, no worries! It was a little heavy but not that bad! Sort of. Do you have anything to sharpen knives here? The one Sophie lent me turned out to be dull."

Emily led the horse in further and walked it around the wagon so it's back end was close to the wagon's front; Lily came over and handed her the knife in its little leather sheath, and Emily in turn handed her the lead so she could move between the shelves and the wagon to get a few wooden shafts and a yoke into place. Afterward she maneuvered the horse into place and hooked everything up, then just as quickly freed the animal.

"...why'd you go through all that effort?" Lily asked as Emily started to lead the horse back towards the doors.

"Usually we use a mare named Sunny to pull the wagon but she's getting on in years. We're switching over to this fine fellow here-" Emily patted the horse's neck with a giggle "-and he's a bit bigger than Sunny. I wanted to make sure the yoke would still fit. Seems there's not as big a difference in size in the places where it matters so it shouldn't rub or be uncomfortable, and it also means I don't have to try and do all the measuring in the morning when there's not a lot of light either and too little time to get another yoke down from the attic."

"Aha. That makes sense. ...so we're starting tomorrow morning then?"

Once Emily had the horse outside the barn, but was still framed in the doorway, she slipped the halter off and the horse ambled away out of Lily's line of sight. "Yep! Right at sunrise, and we should be done by lunchtime."

Ugh. A late night meeting and now work at an unreasonable hour. "Ok!" Lily replied, struggling to keep her usual perky cheerfulness in the tone. "I'll see you at dawn then - hopefully I don't sleep in on accident."

"It's ok if you do but that'll just mean it'll take longer to finish."

Emily waited for Lily to leave the barn then closed the doors and slid the locking bar into place; Lily offered the woman a smile and a wave as she turned to head back into Portia but inwardly she was groaning in frustration. If she set an alarm and went to bed now she'd get at least a little bit of sleep before the meeting. She WAS supposed to have dinner with Harrison tonight but the naive little fool could wait -- more important things needed to come first.

----------------------------------------------------

The signal transmitter buzzed softly. It was like having a small insect flitting around his head.

But with it sitting in the storage area with him, hooked up to a temporary power source, it covered the immediate area and would let Arlo communicate with Sam, Remington, and Mali who were all hidden nearby in the commerce guild, the Happy Apartments, and the old, closed cafe down the hill.

So far there'd been no signs of life outside; Asher had come up with this idea and he and Eli both expressed doubt that they would see anyone tonight. Still, it was a good idea made even better by Selene suggesting they take one of the transmitters with them to temporarily let them coordinate through the Hi-Defs -- Eli and the builder had then both scrambled to get one assembled and re-wired for a power stone bracket, and they'd disguised it inside a crate that they carried into the storage area. All that was left to do then was wait until nightfall, carefully slip inside the storage area (Arlo was certain he hadn't been seen by anyone who was, themselves, visible at the time) and then plug in the transmitter's cord to the bracket and flip it on.

The moon was bright (not full, sadly) but it was intermittently cloudy; when there wasn't cloud cover Arlo was able to see clearly through the small, smudged clean spots he'd wiped in every window in the storage area. He did have to be careful to toss his jacket over himself each time he accessed his Hi-Def (the light from the screen would stand out in the darkness, after all) but other than that he was free to silently walk from window to window to keep an eye on the graveyard as well as the surrounding areas that he could see, and he'd been pacing in this manner for the last four hours with nothing to show for it.

'It might not be tonight,' he kept telling himself. It might not be tonight, or tomorrow night, or even any time soon.

But, not that long ago he and Remington had gotten the chosen security door ready for transport. Mint estimated they could have it in place and installed within a week; with the door in place they could stop worrying about someone getting into the facility, and once they reached that point they'd be free to focus the entirety of their attention on catching their spy and vandal. With all of that in mind the fact that they wouldn't likely catch anyone tonight was easier to swallow.

"Anyone seen anything yet?"

Remington's voice came through the Hi-Def - Arlo had the volume set to just barely above a whisper, to him.

"Not ye- Wait."

Mali's response cut off and Arlo tensed; she was stationed at the apartments -- she usually stayed there when she was in Portia so she'd appointed herself to that position because it wouldn't seem strange if she was spotted at an odd hour inside the building (though the point was, of course, for her NOT to be spotted at all). Arlo gave it several breaths, then several breaths more; the silence seemed to press in so he bent down, pulled his jacket over his head and arm, and prodded his Hi-Def awake. "Mali? Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine. But I just spotted our first concrete lead."

"What? Did you see someone?"

"Not exactly. But either our guest is staying here, was visiting friends here, or Happy Apartments has a ghost problem."

Arlo's eyes narrowed -- their target was INSIDE the apartments? How? For how long had they been there? "So you saw our spy."

"I heard a door open and close upstairs, and shortly thereafter the front door opened and closed on its own. I didn't see anyone, unfortunately -- the lights in the lobby here are heavily dimmed after ten o'clock. Whoever this was knows where to walk to avoid casting even a hint of a shadow in this light so I didn't see them pass me."

"And if you'd turned the lights on it would've been a dead giveaway." Arlo shuffled awkwardly in the dark, with his jacket still pulled over him, toward the furthest window that looked toward Peach Plaza. As expected he didn't see anyone, or anything, with the moon behind the clouds again.

"Should we try and pursue? Pick up their trail?" Remington asked.

"No," both Arlo and Mali said at the same time. Arlo waited a moment, then continued. "We already know this person will be nearly impossible to spot in the dark, even with the moon out, and we've got clouds in the sky tonight that'll make it worse. We have a starting point. In the morning we'll see who is staying at the apartments and go from there."

"I'll stay here and see if whoever that was returns," Mali said after a moment. "If they do, and I can see what room they go into, we'll at least know if this person has been staying here or if someone they're working with is."

"Don't try to apprehend them without help," Arlo warned. "We still don't know if the spy and the vandal are the same person and if they aren't we don't know which one of them is armed or how many people we may be dealing with here."

"I don't intend to because I think we stand to learn more if we wait. It might be glaringly obvious who our culprit is once we examine the occupancy, or it might not be. Either way, we make our list of suspects and monitor them. We'll catch our spy, our vandal, both, or more."

Arlo nodded. "As good a plan as any. I'm going quiet again - everyone keep their eyes peeled."

-----------------------------------------

It was a very long walk from the apartments out to the arch. The suit was getting a bit warm by the time she spotted the tiniest hint of a flame on the beach ahead of her; as she drew closer to the flame she could make out the silhouette of the man holding it.

He was tall and almost unnaturally thin; he had a lighter in hand and the tiny flame's light caused the surprising number of knives sheathed across his chest, hips, and thighs to glint softly in the dark. Next to him was a skinny (but not nearly as skinny as he was) woman who had long red hair worn in a pair of braids that fell forward over her shoulders. The muscular man who had delivered the message was there standing at the back of the group next to Evangeline and Marcus -- Evangeline was a large woman, close to the size of Marcus and the two skinny folk put together, with platinum blonde hair, and Marcus was a dark-haired man who was otherwise unremarkable in the scant glow of the lighter.

They were looking her way; the suit's chameleon abilities were still engaged but it couldn't prevent her from leaving footprints in the sand as she approached.

"Were you followed?" the muscular man asked when she came close.

"No. The entire town is asleep. They don't post night guards in Portia; only out at the facility itself. That might change when construction begins." She came to a stop and turned off the suit; immediately the heat she could feel began to ease. "Were any of YOU followed?"

They all shook their heads; it was good to see they had all been smart about this.

"Where do we stand?" Marcus asked.

Lily unfastened the clips at her neckline and gently slid the extra ventilation slits open on the suit's helmet - the wisps of cool air that immediately filtered in were a blessing. "Construction has been delayed - I'm not sure why. We should consider ourselves on standby and be ready to move at a moment's notice." Before any of them had a chance to speak further she huffed out a sigh. "Who here defaced the grave?" The muscular man crossed his arms and lifted a single finger; she turned to glare at him. "Stop it. I won't have you jeopardizing this."

The man snorted loudly. "Tell that to Xan. He's disappointed in you - how the heck did you miss something so--"

Lily jabbed a finger toward him. "-shut up. Stop it. Shut up. At the time I spoke to Xan it wasn't known what else was here. How did he hear about Summers?"

"You really think there wouldn't be rumors like wildfire in the scholar circles? They can't shut up about the fact we have a real, live Dubeian in our midst. Xan wants her and to hell with the AI."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe you. Xan wouldn't so drastically change things without communicating with ME first."

The man rolled his eyes. "Shut your damn mouth, brat - you aren't special. I got my orders from Xan's mouth and I will not and DO NOT have to listen to your whining."

Lily stalked forward until she was nearly nose to nose with the man (or as close as she could get - his forearms were thick and he was taller than she was too). "I'M in charge until told otherwise. If there's been a change in the plans then I need to hear from Xan directly. If you don't like that then you're on your own, and no one here should feel like they need to stick their necks out for you."

As she spoke to turned to look at the others one by one; the red head's expression was stony so Lily wasn't sure which side she was taking on this particular argument, Evangeline seemed just as annoyed with the muscled man as Lily felt, and she couldn't get a read on Marcus or knife-man's mood -- they both had really good poker faces.

"And," she went on into the pause. "Should you think to sell US out if you get caught... I don't think I need to remind you what Duvos does to traitors. I might not be able to save any of you if someone squeals but you can bet I WILL get myself out and back to base to let everyone know who botched this and got us - got YOU - caught. And whoever did will pay for it, even if you get sent to prison. You know there's no hiding if Duvos decides they really want you gone."

An uneasy silence followed; the man covered in knives flicked the lighter closed abruptly but otherwise no one even moved.

After several tense minutes Evangeline rolled her neck; the number of pops that came from the motion prickled Lily's skin. "All right, I says we vote. Original plan, or switch to the new one? Original?" Lily, Evangeline, Marcus, and the red-haired woman raised their hands. Evangeline briefly glanced around and then nodded. "Good enough for me. Xan wants a change he'll have to tell us the usual way."

The muscled man opened his mouth and the man with the knives held up a hand. "Enough. I'M willing to trust you, because you're saying it's Xan, but they do got a point: Xan always gets word to his men through specific channels, come hell or high water. I don't see why he'd stop doing that in this case. If we're wrong then we're wrong but at least we got a damn AI out of it. And it's not like the woman is like to go anywhere anytime soon."

"Thank you...?" Lily said, gesturing for the man to introduce himself.

"Windsor," came the answer. "Franklin. Kara." He gestured to the muscled man and the red head in turn. "Ain't worked with Xan before now but man's got a reputation for doing it by the book and getting shit done. I don't like the idea of getting on his bad side by not carrying out his orders but without those orders in my hot little hand or having come directly from his face to my ears I'm not sure I want to make him mad by NOT doing what I'd been told the first time 'round."

Lily nodded to him. "I appreciate your good sense." She looked to Kara; her expression was just as crabby as it had been when Lily last eyed her. Whatever the woman's exact thoughts were they were hidden behind a deep frown but at the very least she wasn't objecting to Lily's orders to stay the course.

"...all right. Now. Just so we're all CLEAR-" Lily went on, stressing the last word and all but spitting it at Franklin, "-our next step is simply waiting for construction to begin. When they break ground we'll meet up again four nights later to plan out the doctor switch -- it's not going to be immediate. Anyone in regular close contact with the doctor is likely to notice even a slight change in behavior, and there's no way Harrison is going to know every little detail about the doctor's life if he gets pressed. When the servers and the AI are set to be moved over we'll make our move so there's only a window of a few days where the idiot has to keep up the act. When we leave, we leave him behind, we get home, Xan lets his family loose if he did everything we told him to. A good boy gets rewarded."

"Simple 'nuff," Windsor said. "I like a good, clean getaway."

"Any questions? Any issues with your cover stories we need to hammer out right now?"

Windsor shook his head. "Just a traveling performer here, miss. Staying over in South Block since I was led to believe the growth there would bring new audiences - since it ain't, I'm walking between there and Portia to earn enough to go home."

Lily flashed him a thumb's up and looked to Kara; finally the woman's stony expression broke into something that MIGHT have passed for a smile, if one was holding in a fart.

"Just a ruins delver," was her simple explanation. She had a voice like cracked glass so Lily was glad she wasn't a wordy person.

After a very lengthy pause Franklin grunted. "Fishing."

Lily sighed. "Fishing? That's it?"

"That's it. I'm here to fish."

She was all but certain now that if there was a weak link in the group, it was going to be this idiot. She looked to Marcus and Evangeline.

Marcus shrugged. "Handy man looking for work."

"Mining - already met Dana and got a position," Evangeline said. "Ought to be able to give a good report about what natural stuff is down there. Never know - someone might be interested."

At that Lily reached up to slide the ventilation slits shut again, then turned the suit back on. "Stick to your stories, stay out of trouble, and keep an eye on the clinic. We'll meet here, same time, four days after construction starts. Remember that."

She spun on her heel and left -- they could all figure out their own ways back to wherever they were staying and she had a long walk ahead of her to get back to her room-

...the sky was already beginning to lighten. She didn't think the meeting had taken that long but that time spent coupled with the long walk back to town...damn it. It took about two hours to properly clean and dry the suit out after she'd worn it awhile, and with how she was currently sweating it might take even longer; if she didn't show up to the farm on time people might go looking for her, and she couldn't just leave the job half-finished or leave the suit hanging in her room and risk someone finding it. She also didn't trust anyone she was working with to properly care for or hide it.

Where could she stash it...

There was that hot springs area that was near enough to the farm...she knew from poking around that no one seemed to use the attic in that tiny dock house. That would have to work for now - it would take even longer to clean it later but she needed to lay low anyway, and it was less likely someone would try snooping in her room if they knew she was in it.

When she got to the dock house she picked the lock to the building and climbed to the attic; thankfully she managed to find a loose floorboard that she pried up and stuck the suit under it before putting the board back -- while she really doubted anyone would suddenly decide to come up here at least now they wouldn't immediately see the suit if they did, and who would have any reason to go digging around in the rafters? It was risky but less so than leaving it out in the open.

As she came upon the fields she could see Emily was already outside with the horse and wagon, and there were a few others that Lily didn't recognize that were standing with her; they weren't anyone she'd seen in town before so she imagined they, like her, were hired on hands to assist. The farm girl was talking to the others but paused and gestured, with a smile, for Lily to come join them once she noticed her crossing the empty field.

"-and David, you'll take the cornball seeds. Lily, I'll have you helping Tracy and Bill with the wheat, if you don't mind."

"Sure!" Lily chirped in response, looking over to the two standing on the far end of the little line of farmhands -- Tracy was an average sized, average looking brunette who seemed like she was barely awake and Bill was a tall man in ratty clothing and straw hat. "I'm Lily - I've never planted wheat before so is there anything special I should know?"

Tracy didn't make any effort to answer but Bill shook his head with a warm smile. "Naw. It's easy. I'll show you."

"All right! Let's get to planting everyone!" Emily called out then. She led the wagon along the rows Lily had marked out and helped one of the other farmhands in setting down the sacks of seed next to their correct markers.

Bill handed Lily a little bag attached to a length of rope and showed her to how tie it to her hip so it stayed secure but also could be removed easily by tugging on a loop in a certain way; she then filled the little bag with wheat seeds and followed along with the man as he showed her what he called the easiest and most efficient want to get the seeds into the ground. Once she'd had her crash course in wheat planting they separated and worked in a line with each of them taking the rows to their immediate left and right.

While she was rather tired she had to admit that this wasn't all that bad, and in just a handful of hours she could go get her suit and figure out a way to sneak it back into Happy Apartments, then take a shower and crawl into bed. She might even grab something to eat at some point...or might not. It would depend on how exhausted she was once this field was planted.

------------------------------------------------

"Can I ask you something?"

"Is this related to how distracted you've been all afternoon?"

Arlo grimaced. "...yeah. It's..."

Their walk today (Eli never had them in one place for too long when she was teaching) had taken them along the river, passed the island that housed the Haunted Cave attraction, down to the ocean shore, and now they were retracing that path at a leisurely pace. He'd thought he'd done a decent enough job to hide the fact that his mind was anywhere but in the current moment but...well, considering that Eli was trying to teach him to absorb his surroundings and pick out all the little details in an instant, it was little wonder she'd immediately clued in to even a tiny change in his behavior.

What was bothering him was a proverbial rabbit hole he'd accidentally fallen down earlier today when he was going over their known information and current plan.

They had fourteen suspects staying in the Happy Apartments. That was a lot of people to keep an eye on, and they'd kept EVERYONE who wasn't a native Portian on that list -- since they couldn't rule out that someone had been hiding in the wilderness prior to renting a room they'd decided against eliminating anyone immediately based on date of arrival alone. Mali was confident that they could quickly strike people off that list and pare it down to a more manageable one, and he shared that confidence, but it had got him thinking about the general situation.

Arlo had heard and read a lot about the war between the Alliance of Free Cities and Duvos, and had also heard a lot of stories from Remington regarding the recent action at Lucien's border. Lucien had been nearly destroyed in the war and really, it hadn't known peace long enough to truly rebuild. It almost felt like the peace accord that Duvos had signed was only a pretense - a stalling effort to let them bide their time, build back up, and try to forcibly expand their borders again later. Portia was far to the south of Duvos so there had never been much fear over being invaded or having their resources abruptly taken from them -- all things considered, Portia had probably never been high on their priority list as there were ruins and other natural resources much closer to the Empire's border; the sink hole opening up into the remarkably well preserved medical facility had undoubtedly pushed Portia square into Duvos's sights and they clearly, desperately, wanted what was within it, and history had already shown how they went about obtaining what they wanted.

It seemed odd to make the jump from a snooping spy to a sudden declaration of war but where else would their current behavior lead? Things were getting tense in the north and just because they had no word of Duvos gearing up to march again didn't mean they hadn't found some way to keep it hidden. And while he knew any sort of technology in Duvos's hands was bad news it was a chilling thought to consider what it would mean if they got their hands on Stewart -- they might not be able to replicate old medical technology immediately but the knowledge was invaluable and could, in the near future, drastically cut down on recovery time for Duvos's injured soldiers while the rest of the world would have to scramble to learn what they could from those medical texts they'd found just to keep up.

How to even put all of that into words though...

"...if another war breaks out, what do you think you'll do?"

For a time Eli didn't answer; ahead of them the bridge that led over to the Haunted Cave came into view, and near it was a bald, mustached man who was struggling with the reel on his fishing pole.

"Not sure," came her answer. They walked on another few steps before she continued. "Fight, probably. It might sound selfish but in a way I'm glad I'm not in charge of anything or anyone anymore."

He looked over to her; her head was down, her gaze fixed on the ground just ahead of them, so he couldn't get a clear look at her face. "Why's that? I would've thought it would be the opposite."

She let out a huff of a laugh. "Maybe, if we were three hundred years in the past. This isn't my world anymore. I have no business being in charge of people - how could I order them around when I know less about this world and how it all works than they do? Like -- imagine if you were thrown into MY time period. How do you think you'd feel?"

"Overwhelmed," Arlo answered, momentarily surprised at how quickly the word had spilled out. "More than a little lost, as well. I've not really been far from Portia so the thought of being in a city where a single building holds more people than I've ever seen in my life is...a little daunting."

She nodded, lifting her head a bit to flash him a smile. "Now try to reverse that. Everything I knew is gone, or doesn't work or work properly, or is left like that-" she pointed way off to the west where you could just barely make out the top of a ruined building on the horizon. "If I had access to tools and tech from my time, we would have caught this spy in a matter of days. But I don't. And we haven't. And I feel like I'm flailing around trying to hold on to anything I can to sort of ground myself but...it's hard, you know? About all I'm good for is a warm body ready to throw myself on the metaphorical fire to keep it from burning others."

"Don't say that," he interrupted, shaking his head at her. "You're much more than that - to me, and to everyone else."

"LOGICALLY I know that," she replied. "Emotionally though... I have my good days and my bad ones; I'm just good at keeping the mask on and rolling with it."

"Well, whatever your brain wants to tell you, if it's negative it's wrong. You're a good friend, you're intelligent, you're tougher than anyone I've ever met," Arlo went on. "And if there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

She chuckled quietly and stuck her hands into her pockets. "You and Asher both have said that. It's appreciated."

He opened his mouth to keep going but paused, as he wasn't sure what to say next. They were even closer to the bridge now and Arlo could see the rat's nest of a tangle of fishing line that was around the mustached man's reel ahead of them. The man noticed them coming and offered a frustrated half wave, which Arlo acknowledged with a nod.

"-so, now that I've had my daily mini mental breakdown, why are you worried about war?" she asked, voice quiet.

"...the more I think about the spy, and what they're after, and where they came from, the more I feel like another war is on the horizon," he replied after a moment to sort his thoughts out. "And thinking about that made me think about what I would do in that situation."

She nodded, then held up a hand before he could continue; lengthening her stride she adjusted her path to head toward the man with the tangled reel.

"Everything all right there?" They were still far enough away that she had to almost yell for the man to hear her -- at the very least, the man wasn't within range to hear them chitchatting.

"Yeah yeah," came the shouted response - the man's tone was clearly annoyed. "Don't buy cheap reels."

She chuckled a bit; again she adjusted herself to go back to the path they had been walking along - they still had to pass by the man but there would be a healthy distance between them.

As they drew near and then finally passed the man Arlo could hear him swearing to himself as he yanked and tugged at the tangled fishing line...but he didn't really seem to be focusing on what he was doing. It was slightly hard to tell out of the corner of the eye and with how quick they walked by him but Arlo swore the man was trying his damnedest to watch them while looking like he wasn't paying them any attention. Arlo resisted the urge to look back, to check if the man was openly staring, and simply walked alongside Eli until the man was far behind them.

"You saw that, right?"

He nodded. "He was watching us."

"Any idea who that was?"

"No, I've never seen him before."

Arlo made a mental note of what the man had looked like (heavily muscled, bald, mustached) and resolved to ask Gale and Antoine if the man was one of those staying at the Happy Apartments -- he was certainly striking enough to be easily remembered.

As Portia's gates loomed ahead of them he remembered they'd been mid-conversation about Duvos and a potential war...he almost felt like he needed, and should, pick up where they'd left off, as the whole thing bothered him a bit more than he'd initially realized, but there was also a part of him that didn't want to think about it at all. It was that same part of him that hadn't wanted to consider what "shoot to kill" entailed either.

"Eli!"

Arlo looked up sharply at the shout; Toby was running toward them with Jack and the triplets huffing along trying to keep up with him. Beside him Eli smiled and shook her head.

"There goes the afternoon I guess. Unless you need me for something?"

He shook his head. "Your patrol is done, our lesson is over with, and we already did our morning training. So far as I'm concerned you're off the clock." He paused, looking again to where the kid was rushing toward them. "-unless you want me to invent a task so you can avoid being dragged into whatever Toby has planned."

"Nah, it's fine. I can handle a gaggle of kids."

Toby would be right on them within a few seconds; in those last moments of peace Arlo stepped just ahead of Eli enough to stop her, fixing her with a look. "Take tomorrow off. I'll have Asher cover your patrols."

She frowned. "Arlo-"

"No, I mean it. If you're having a rough time I'd rather have you rested and ready for action. Relax for a day - read a book, hike, visit with someone, just do something you like."

"I LIKE being active, and exactly how much relaxation do you think I'm going to get knowing-"

She cut off her words as Toby came to a stumbling halt in front of them, panting loudly. "Eli...Eli! Think you can...whew...think you can help me make a bow?"

"A bow? What for?"

After a few breaths to collect himself Toby stood upright, beaming. "I wanna learn how to shoot it! And then I wanna learn how to hunt! Mom told me about this stew thingy she liked that had fried sea urchin in it but you can't get near them without them shooting their needles at you - I want to surprise her with some meat but without getting turned into a pincushion!"

Eli blinked as all that came in a rush out of the boy's mouth; Arlo had to give the kid credit -- he was at least thinking ahead rather than rushing off for once.

"Well, seems you have a plan," she replied finally. "But it's not going to be easy to just MAKE a bow - especially not one that'll take down a target like an urchin."

"But...can we try?"

Arlo smiled a bit at the boy's earnest tone, then wagged a finger at him to grab his attention. "Just make sure you're not shooting it at anything just for fun," he warned once the boy was looking at him. "Don't damage any buildings or trees, and DON'T shoot it at wildlife unless you're intending to eat it."

Toby pumped a fist into the air a few times. "I won't, I promise!"

Finally the four other children caught up and, after a moment to collectively catch their breaths, they all headed back out through the gates with Eli in their midst. Arlo watched them go silently; he hoped that his impromptu orders for a day off hadn't upset Eli. Thinking back to her admitting she was looking for something to cling to, to ground herself with...at the moment, one could think that work was the only thing she was using to cope. Would his ordering her to take a day off do more harm than good? He certainly hoped not.

...bah. His stomach felt a bit knotted with the uneasy feeling from contemplating another war along with concern over whether he just made Eli's life a tiny bit more difficult. He quickly crossed the plaza and headed up the hill toward the Round Table; by the fountain up ahead he could see a small gathering of folks all watching as a skinny man juggled silvery knives. There was a battered flat cap laying on the ground in front of him with a handful of gols glinting in the sun; the man was yet another person Arlo hadn't seen before and out of curiosity he continued passed the restaurant to stand with the rest of the onlookers as the man juggled.

From here it was difficult to tell if the knives were actually real but the man was certainly treating them as though they were. As he watched the knives flip from one hand to the other, behind the back, under legs and around elbows Arlo had to admit the man was rather skilled, and there were "oohs" and "ahhs" and gasps from the people around them as they watched the display of flying metal. When the man reached the end of his juggling act he caught each knife in quick succession, sheathing them in identical, repeating motions, then gave an elaborate bow to a scattering of applause. A few folks in the crowd dropped more gols into the hat, and Arlo waited patiently until they'd dispersed before approaching the man.

"Quite a talent."

The man didn't reply at first, choosing to bend and pick up the hat and carefully deposit the gols into his pocket so he could shove the hat back onto his head. "Yep, sure is. Drove my mum nuts growing up - couldn't leave anything within reach or I'd end up tossing it around. You from here?"

Arlo nodded. "I am. Where are you from?"

"Born in Tallsky. Came north because my audience was bored with me and I heard South Block was getting busy. Dunno what folks's definition of busy is but I barely make enough to buy my dinner there. Figured I'd try my luck here to sees if I can make enough to head back home."

Again he nodded. "I see. South Block is a growing trade post but most people you'll find there are traveling through and rarely stay for more than a day or so."

The man snorted. "Tell me about it. -- say, ain't a problem hanging around performing is there?"

"So long as you keep your distance and your knives to yourself there shouldn't be an issue. Where are you staying? South Block?"

"Sure am," the man replied. "Hopefully I make enough to move on soon. Bus tickets might be cheap for some but not when you're picking between a bed, a meal, or a ride."

Arlo reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of gols; without counting them he held them out. "Here - at the very least try to get a meal for the evening. The Round Table has reasonable prices and great food."

The man's eyes lit up and he grabbed for the money, then quickly cleared his throat and tried to look a little more dignified as he stowed the gols away with the rest. "Thanks, stranger. It's appreciated."

With a curt nod Arlo spun around to head back to the Round Table, and made a mental note to walk to South Block tomorrow to get a list of motel occupants from Yeye. They hadn't noticed a lot of foot traffic from South Block lately but a singular traveler moving between the two towns could easily be missed.

It was crowded and busy inside the Round Table; there were a few empty booths but he didn't want to take up an entire one by himself so he took the only open seat at the bar which happened to be between Remington and Adam.

He gave them both a nod and then turned to look at Adam. "How's it going out at the facility?"

"Alls quiet. They started digging to place the door. Mali's out there now with Sam - I'm charged with bringing them supper when I'm done with a few errands here in town."

"You should see the thing now. It sure doesn't look as huge as it did now that it's out of that building," Remington chuckled.

Arlo huffed out a sigh. "That was a nightmare to deal with. Little wonder the Old World had robots to do that sort of thing - it we hadn't borrowed that winch and pulley we probably wouldn't have been able to manage disconnecting that door from the wall by ourselves."

Sonia hurried by and went to hand him a menu, seemed to do a double take and realize who he was, then stowed the menu back beneath the counter. "Hi Arlo! Your usual?"

"Please. With a glass of orange juice please." He waited until she left then lowered his voice. "Keep an eye out for a heavily muscled man, bald, with a dark mustache. He was eying Eli and I up, and I've no idea who he is."

"Will do," Remington replied. "-er, by the way - Selene's on the prowl. Party planning. Just so you aren't blindsided."

Party planning... Remington's birthday was coming up soon and they STILL hadn't had the little gathering to welcome Eli and Asher to the team. "Got it. We don't have time for anything extravagant sadly."

Remington wrinkled his nose. "Man, even if we did, I don't want extravagant."

Arlo chuckled and nodded to Sonia as she sat a chilled glass of orange juice on the counter in front of him; it was cold, tangy, and satisfying, and he had to will himself not to chug it down too quickly.

He would eat, pick up a few things from Total Tools, then head back to the Civil Corps building to-

"-has Eli ever mentioned to anyone when HER birthday is?" he asked then, looking between Adam and Remington.

"I...don't think so. Maybe to Asher?"

Arlo turned to Adam. "Has he said anything?"

Adam shook his head. "Not a peep, and I'm pretty sure he would have if he knew."

"Huh. We ought to ask her tomorrow morning then," Remington said into the pause that followed.

Arlo blew out a sigh. "I gave her tomorrow off so whoever runs into her first..."

Sonia came over with their food (Arlo had no idea when the other two had ordered but all of it came out at the same time) and all conversation was set aside in favor of stuffing food in their faces as quickly as they could before they all went their separate ways: Remington to the Corps building, Adam back out to the facility, and Arlo back toward the plaza where hopefully Mars still had his shop open and had whetstones available.

Tonight Mali and Asher would be staking out the graveyard; they were both insistent that the two of them could handle things on their own and didn't need a third. He didn't have much choice other than to trust to their confidence but as he picked up the whetstones and was heading up the stairs toward the Corps building he wondered if he should have asked Adam if he wanted another pair of eyes tonight out at the facility.

'If he wanted help I'm sure he would have asked,' Arlo found himself thinking as he pushed the door open to the Corps building and plodded across the sitting area toward his room.

That he was free to get a full night's sleep made him feel a tad guilty but, on the other hand, the better rested he was the more attentive he'd be, and that would only help them. Probably.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 19 #Arlo #Mali #Sonia #Remington #Toby #My Time at Portia

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sootcloak · 4 years ago

Text

Regret’s for the Dead

~2000 words of loosely written dialogue & set dressing with even looser editing because this time around I’m trying to do one every day and just post it cause otherwise I’ll never get them all done. It ain’t for work, I’ve got to learn to live with the messiness of creation or I’ll never post anything.

January Prompt: Revenant - A person who has returned, particularly from the dead. (Often re-contextualized in fantasy media as an undead creature with a fixation on revenge or justice.)

@seaswolchallenge

The winds and clouds over Terncliff are often clear - leaving the moon to shine brightly down on the cliffside township. Sleeplessly, Gaius steps from the old, shelled-out building the Resistance had afforded him near the occupied square. Vaguely, he hears someone tell him ‘goodnight’ before turning out a lamp in the foyer.

“Rest well.” He half-says, as footsteps recede from behind him. Taking a deep breath of the salt-leaden, night air he shuts the door behind him and walks out to his usual spot near the fountain. The Ironworks hand should be in bed, and the guards are a quiet sort unlikely to approach him, of all people. It’ll be nice and private. At least as private as he could get. He turns the corner to the square.

Moonlight falls in shafts down through the clouds. The horizon beyond is dappled with stars and darkness both. And there, in the square proper besides that lovely fountain is a monster.

He had once thought her a woman, maybe even a heroine as with many of these other Eorzean adventurers. But she wasn’t an adventurer. She was a huntress, of men and other monsters alike. He had thought her small, weak, and fragile when he had met her all those years ago. A mind limited by a flawed body. He had not yet seen her dance as a vicious, cutting gale. Or watched her erase lives from fields away with the casual disinterest of a scribe scratching tasks off a list. And while he did not see the wound made, he has seen the scars. She is not fragile.

The lalafellin woman’s hair hangs in loose, tangled curtains around her back, rather than the braid she wears in the day. It’s greying blonde like dusty sunlight falls over a dull brown, sleeveless tunic. It was rare to see her out of uniform, let alone in something which could be broadly considered sleepwear. She did not like to lay bare her failings to the world.

Her left arm glints in the dim light of the lamps and stars. All metal and thick Garlean ballistic fibers. Cords in place of muscles, gears in place of joints. The scar where it joins her shoulder is jagged and stark, even against her deathly pale skin. Her left leg, too, is left mostly exposed to the night air below the knee. Much the same fashion, save for the thick exhaust ports along her small calves.

It was, in truth, easier to look at the metal and wire, though. At least then, the horror of machinery making skin stretch and bulge in wrong places was avoided. That the ports along her right calf break through skin is a fresh horror.

“If you’d prefer I move -” She calls without moving, “- you could always ask.” She reaches besides her, hand meeting the neck of a bottle.

“A drink?” She asks.

“Vavara. That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant. I’ll be on my way-” He begins, his boots hissing on the sand-dusted stone tiles of the road as he turns. Emerald eyes, shining from the way they catch the light, meet his as she turns in her seat.

“Don’t give me that, Legatus. I doubt you can sleep any more than me.” Her knowing, confident tone grinds against him. The low, soft way she speaks forces him to focus and listen to hear. Like being grabbed by the collar and held firm.

“Your ‘Blessing’ pry into my past again?” He says. His frustration bleeds into his tone.

“No. It’s the rings under your eyes. Your gait. You’re tired. Can’t sleep though, else you’d not be here. ‘Sides-” She pulls the bottle back to herself and throws her head back with a swig. “My hallowed ‘Blessing of Light’ has yet to grant me the honor of near-omnipotence. Just headaches, here.” She grins with bright, fake teeth. A sigh pushes out from his chest, and he closes the distance and sits alongside her on the fountain. She offers him the bottle, and he just shakes his head. A shrug. Another long draught.

“Thought you didn’t drink.” He says. His eyes measure her reaction. She looks away from him, off towards the sea. Her metal hand reaches up and waves dismissively before batting a stray strand of hair from her cheek.

“I don’t.” She declares. “Stomach’s half gone with the rest of what I’d need to get drunk. I like the way it burns my throat, even if I can’t taste it anymore. Reminds me of when I came back to Eorzea.” Her words are upbeat, if reserved. She shows him the bottle label without turning her body. An old Lominsan rum. Still dust on the bottle. Mostly full. He glances up to the cap, where the wax has been freshly broken.

“That’s right, you mentioned you’d served.” He says. His speech almost feels automatic, as though he were running on muscle-memory alone.

“Planning on filling the night with polite conversation? You’ve already looked at my file, Legatus. Not to mention we fought back in the Praetorium. Hells, I’m sure you were briefed on me in one way or another when I went rogue.” She takes another sip. He takes a long breath and nods, old memories coming unbidden.

“It was shortly after the Meteor Project - I was assigned additional protection since other legions were having their leadership covertly culled. I remember.” He admits. His words get heavier as he speaks, as though weighed down by gunmetal. She just nods and waves the bottle at him.

Neither say much else for some time. The night stretches, stars and the greater moon slowly tracing paths across the distant black. The sea wind drifts in and out. She drinks, slowly emptying the bottle bit by bit. He watches the buildings around him, tracing the scars of ammunition, shells which blew the road apart but was rebuilt. The barricades placed throughout the streets. The towers looming overhead. Fine white stone stitched apart by dark black metal.

Were the Empire to return at this point, would they erect more of these structures? Make a prison of this port? The resources to hold this point simply do not exist - and yet to turn after seeing so plainly what these people would be made to endure again. Is that cowardice? Or would standing be a pyrrhic path to vengeance, bleeding them further with more shells and bullets scattering them and their homes.

He shakes the ideas from his head. Steadying his breathing again. He can’t afford to get bogged down in emotions, especially now with the last of the Weapons on the horizon. He leans forward, hand reflexively moving to his forearm, where his old cannon would have been mounted.

The sound of a bottle tapping against stone jerks him out of his thoughts. Vavara’s eyes are closed, head tilted straight up towards the sky.

“I joined the legion because of you.” Her words drag his heart into a pit in his chest. A sinking dread.

“Do you regret that decision?” He asks, certain the answer will not be something he likes.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then, why-”

“Would I have deserted? Why do I now hunt the Empire’s finest? I don’t regret joining. I learned much and more in the Empire’s service. I’d never have survived as long as I have were it not for what I learned there - probably would’ve starved in an alley or gotten shelled when the Resistance took the city back. Then again, Zenos’d’ve never chopped me up. Whether I went along or not, though, the folks I enlisted with would have died all the same.

“I don’t regret the decision in the same way you can’t really regret getting gored by a bull. Just happens. Can murder the fucking bull so it doesn’t happen again, though.” She lets herself stew a moment, before throwing a long swig back and then shaking her head. Sends her hair scattering.

“If I were to change anything though, I’d have left earlier. Got real on board with some of what we were doing, twisted it up in my head that eventually it’d pay off and the poisoned promises the Empire made would come to fruition. Bet that sounds familiar. Lest I remind you,” She gestures at the masks on his hip.

“We are of a similar profession, ‘Shadowhunter’. We were then, and we are now.” Her right hand reaches over to cup her left forearm, squeezing the metal tight.

“Paid dearly for our failings and ambitions, too. Best we can hope is to shoulder the cost ourselves, ‘stead of it falling on someone else.” He grumbles something akin to an agreement, but otherwise says nothing. His brow furrows, mind tracing their collective past’s outline. Matching them against each other. She interrupts him before he can stew in the silence too long.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. The Emerald Weapon’s pilot. Wasn’t fast enough.”

“I… It was not your hand which set this in motion.”

“Again, you’ve read my file. You can say it was not mine alone, but I certainly had a part to play in this.”

“It would be foolish to assume everything in your file is accurate. Plainly, news of your death was exaggerated as mine was. Much the same is at work in the other details of your service as well, I would assume.” He says. His hand slowly drops down to rest on the masks at his hip.

“Legatus...” She looks at him with a strange, vexed look on her face. “What about me looks alive to you?”

He takes a long moment, breath slowly filling his chest. The scent of ceruleum which lingers on her fills his lungs. The way her shining eyes gaze back at him feels like oncoming traffic. Headlamps and flashing lights. Her porcelain skin, segmented and rigid in places where it tries to mimic the real thing, shifts as she leans back. There is true flesh there, but it’s grey and without vigor. Poisoned, even. It meshes with the prosthetics and the replacements in uneven patches, rimmed by nasty, discolored scars.

“What irony would that be -” She sighs, looking away from him. “- what poetic bullshit.” She looks down at the label of the booze, holding it away from her. “Maybe this is working on me.”

“Legatus, listen;” She swings the bottle as she speaks, back and forth with the cadence of her speech. “I don’t breathe, I don’t have a heart anymore, I can’t really eat or drink. Veins are filled with more oil and ceruleum than blood. My aether is stored in my core, so I technically have a ‘soul’, but it can’t be changed in the same ways as yours. I’ve also been pulled and cut apart, limb from limb, more than once. I’m about as alive as your gunblade. Or some autonomous, revenant thing going bump in the night.” Her prosthetic elbows into him, a steady, pressurized vibration felt in the metal. A too-lax grin flashes on her face, sharp teeth and ill-fitting humor meshing awkwardly.

“I do rather like that image, I’ll admit. What I’m saying is this - everything my file says I did in the name of the Empire? It’s true.” She takes a long drink, looks out to sea, and speaks in a soft, somber tone.

“Though at this rate, I doubt any of those who dwell above will see me judged for my sins. Trapped here as I am.

“So if anyone has a right to judge me for my failings - it’s a fellow dead man walking. Namely, Legatus, you.”

She holds the drink back towards him, half-empty as it is. The slosh of the bottle is audible as she pauses dramatically.

“So. Changed your mind on that drink?”

“If you insist.” He growls, taking the bottle from her hand. He tips it back quickly, a short, shallow draught. He hands the bottle back, a grimace on his face.

“I prefer Garlean wines.” He says through a restrained cough.

“Oh, that so? Sorry to offend your delicate tastes, my lord.”

“Stow it.”

#ffxiv creative writing #aegis' writing archive #Vavara Ashenheart #vavara kir vara #seaswolchallenge

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talltales · 4 years ago

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—OPEN CHARMS ARE LOST ON VELVET; M'AIDEZ THIS MY M'AIDEZ, M'AIDEZ THE HIGHER WE CLIMB THE SMALLER WE SEEM, MAD WITH POSSIBILITY request by @jjpmoans!!

la faim, la soif et la chaleur vont de pair.

despite the unspoken prayer she hears on the tongues of friends and strangers alike; uttered into the unrelentingly humid and overly bright september days, summer lingers. the asphalt burns beneath the soles of her flip-flops; housing heat that wraps around her ankles and clings with heavy tendrils she can feel as she walks.

“maybe we’ll see rain.” the elderly man sitting in front of an abandoned playground says as she passes, his eyes never leave his paper. he flips to the next page, unperturbed by the sunlight bearing upon his hands. the band of his broken watch gleams in the light as he moves.

sweat drips down her back, beneath her shirt and she thinks, maybe.

maybe.

she, like everyone else making their way home, moves quickly and keeps a healthy distance between herself and the nearest warm body. the occasional blast of air conditioning coming from the odd doorway provides welcome relief, if only for the second it takes to pass the threshold.

it’s a luxury that most can’t afford; many of the residents have resigned themselves to languishing under the heat, aided only by bottles of lukewarm water and half-price ice cream cones offered every other block.

the slums are named so for a reason.

the air carries the scent of the odd perfume—vanilla and berries—and something unmistakably human. however hellish it is, there is something beautiful about the cracked city streets and the aged buildings flanking them; tinted in hues of gold-peach and stretching into the clear sky.

they, like the people themselves, stand in open defiance of time and the inherent neglect that comes with existing in such a wretched place.

she finds the thought is strangely satisfying—a boon that holds the faintest smile on her lips as she ducks into the next set of open doors with a passing glance at the fire escape climbing the side of the building. faintly, she spots a wisp of gray-white smoke curling out from a window; a peek of faded denim.

her smile grows into a grin.

the foyer is long disused, an enduring artifact of times past. silently, she ghosts her hand over the notched desk where a door-keeper might have made his living and slips into the old, caged lift. the fractured button beneath her fingertip flickers to life when she pushes it—shining dimly in the shade of the elevator shaft towering above her head. her ride to the fifth floor is quiet, punctuated only by the mechanical clank and groan of the structure as it rises.

as the pen slides open—none too quickly—she tugs her keys from her pocket and finds the right one with the tips of her fingers. the rest jangle uselessly outside of her grip, swinging against the back of her hand. her only guide to the door is memory and the cool, hazy light filtering in through the dust-covered window at the end of the long hallway.

his door—last on the left, beside a strangely thriving pot of lilies—stands out like a beacon; painted in shades of red with a chipped number 9 hanging perilously from a loose nail. she slots the key in and turns it, breathes a sigh as the—barely—cooler air fans outward in a pleasant mimicry of a spring breeze.

“i could almost fool myself into thinking you had air conditioning,” she calls out, because she knows that he’s there; can smell him in the air—amber and smoke—and hear the sound of him shifting beneath the tinny acoustics playing on his radio.

“that illusion will fade with time,” jinyoung retorts, from his perch on the windowsill. he rests against the frame, half on the fire escape with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. she watches as he takes a drag and sends another column of smoke spiraling into the air, “trust me on that.”

she kicks her sandals off and steps into the space proper, with interlaced fingers resting atop her head, “i believe you, but it’s hell out there.”

her path to him is a winding one. she skirts around the coffee table where his half-dissembled vhs player sits abandoned—another unfinished project taken up in his spare time—and picks up the glass of ice water sitting on the edge. the condensation trails over her fingertips, providing some relief from the thick heat rolling through the open window.

the air is fresh, at least.

“have you been there all morning?” her eyes slide down, taking in the picture he makes with interest. jinyoung has never been overly fond of clothes; many of his afternoons are spent wandering his apartment shirtless, and that much hasn’t changed. he looks comfortable in loose jeans but little else, the single button undone for reasons she doesn’t bother to understand.

for all of his effort to stay cool, however, beads of sweat trail down his jaw and pool in his collarbones. he glistens in the sun, a modern myth come to life, pushing back the dark strands clinging to his forehead.

if there is one good thing to come out of this, it is the sight before her.

“yeah,” his answer comes with a note of exasperation, and she notes the way the hand not holding his cigarette lays on his thigh, tap tapping against the fabric. jinyoung is bored and that never bodes well for his mood.

she takes a sip of his forgotten water and nearly sighs at the sensation of something cool on her tongue.

“pity, you could’ve been on the corners making a little money off this.” she lifts the glass when he turns in her direction, brow raised. the comprehension that crosses his face is tinged with amusement.

“i’m no entrepreneur,” the smoldering light of his cigarette is extinguished in the tray beside him, before he crosses his arms over his chest. she tries not to examine the way his muscles shift beneath his skin.

“there’s a demand. even the balloon seller down the street is raking in a profit.”

jinyoung’s head tilts as a disbelieving laugh—low, a little untamed—slips into the air between them, “how?”

her shoulders lift, though even the effort of shrugging feels like it’s too much. she takes another long sip of his water, then another step closer, “who knows? but you’re missing out, either way.”

“are you going to drink it all?” he sidesteps, watching her swirl the glass thoughtfully. silently, she plucks the few remaining cubes floating in the glass before setting it on the nearest surface—a worn end table that’s certainly seen better days.

it’s a miracle that they don’t melt in her grasp. she carries them like precious cargo, only sparing him a humored look, “i’ll share.”

“there’s nothing in the glass.” he speaks slowly, as if addressing a small child. she merely raises a brow in response. boredom does terrible things to someone like him. jinyoung enjoys keeping his hands busy, because it keeps the darker thoughts at bay—

not everyone thrives in these godforsaken places, but she’s long accepted that he will always be a little angry.

a little bitter.

when he lifts a hand to wipe away the dew clinging to his upper lip, she grasps his wrist with her free hand and holds it, “i’ll share.”

and if he’s a little late in recognizing her intent, she doesn’t blame him. the heat has made her mind sluggish too; she moves mostly on instinct—driven by a base sort of delight with the way he looks, silhouetted in a gold hazy light that makes him look like he’s been touched by divinity.

jinyoung says nothing, merely watching her as she shifts to hold one cube between her thumb and index finger. soon, it follows the curve of his jaw and he jolts, lashes fluttering before he fixes his attention on her face. her focus moves with the melting ice clasped in her hand and the journey it makes down to his chin, before circling up to trace the edges of his mouth.

with little prompting, he parts his lips and she tips the cube onto his tongue and mirrors the movement with the remaining cube —before it melts on her tongue, she leans in and presses her lips to his; smiling against them when he catches the clue swiftly and opens his mouth to her.

she relishes in the coolness his kiss offers; remnants of ice quickly dissolving as he presses closer with an appreciative hum, tilting his head to draw the softest of moans from the back of her throat.

and even when the heat creeps back in—heady and narcotized—she doesn’t dare move away.

la faim, la soif et la chaleur vont de pair.

#request #member + prompt #jinyoung fanfic #got7 fanfic

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hyliangrace-a · 4 years ago

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ZELDA, HER APPEARANCE & HER FEELINGS REGARDING IT /

talking with amber about the differences between the appearances in our respective zeldas got me motivated to finish this headcanon, finally ! i love zelda’s ocarina of time design, because y’know, imprinting on your very first zelda game & all that, but there’s always room for improvement, right ? these are my ( questionable ) improvements ! this headcanon ... got away from me little bit when i started to talk out my reasoning for zelda’s choice in how she presented herself as queen. i intended on talking about how she looks in other verses, too, such as when she’s a spectre in the queen’s shade universe, but i feel that would suit better as an entirely separate post, so, that’ll come in time ! i hadn’t intended on putting this post under a read more, because i feel it’s a fairly important headcanon & i’d like people to read it, but - surprise ! - it��s really long, & it would feel really rude to just leave it uncut, so behind the black it goes - that, & it also deals with body issues & negative perceptions of one’s body, so please keep that in mind if you’re sensitive to that sort of content. that said, & i’m aware of the irony of this sentence after the last, but i hope you guys at least find it an enjoyable read ! ♡

the three basic tenets of her appearance which have appeared in most of her predecessors & descendants ( pale, blue-eyed, blonde-haired ) apply in most, if not all, of my verses for zelda but there are only a few verses of mine where i would say zelda’s appearance is exactly as it is within the game & the official art provided by nintendo - primarily the earliest arc of my canon verses, when she’s still the little princess, & the au which follows the events of the child timeline, where she never goes on the run & so never becomes sheik. she’s still quite fit, thanks to horseback riding & regular exercise, overseen by impa, but it’s in this au she most embodies the slim, graceful princess look nintendo gave her. one constant in all her adult verses, however, is her height - by the time she’s fully grown, she’s 5′8″.

in my other main, canon-inspired verses, well - zelda goes on the run at age ten, & it’s from that age impa begins to teach her how to fight, as she knows that she cannot protect her forever, & she’s going to need to become self-sufficient if she wants to survive. it starts off with basic things, graduating into an intense regime, but the result is, by the time link awakens from his slumber, zelda, even whilst disguised as sheik, is broad-shouldered & visibly muscled. i choose to interpret the tanned skin, red eyes & shorter hair as part of a glamour zelda put up, out of fear that ganondorf was searching for girls matching her description á la wind waker, but the muscles get to stay because whilst her appearance might be fake when under this alias, her feats are not. she did, after all, manage to survive seven years in a monster-infested hyrule, stay in the heart of death mountain without a visible goron tunic, & for whatever reason, was at kakariko village before link when the seal holding bongo-bongo back began to break, & i choose to interpret that as her being prepared to fight it. she also managed to make it through the haunted wasteland to the desert colossus / the spirit temple, sans lens of truth, & as she presents as an androgynous, masculine-leaning figure, she might have also had to prove her worth to the gerudo in battle, just as link did - after all, even though the gerudo, such as nabooru, openly disavow ganondorf by that point in time, it would be madness to declare her true self in his hometown.

this piece of fanart by lord-lorens is, honestly, the closest thing to how i picture zelda’s body type whilst she masquerades as sheik, & afterwards, when she reassumes her identity as princess. ( is there a gossip stone out there saying princess zelda has an eight pack ? there’s nothing in canon to disprove this, so yes. ) the only thing which stops it being entirely perfect for me is my headcanons of where across her body zelda is scarred ( which could be another, much smaller headcanon, so i’ll leave it for that ) but considering everyone’s interpretation of how zelda lived as sheik is varied, it was bound to happen - but god, minus those, i just want to pin this somewhere on my blog with an enormous sign next to it which says ❛ this is how my zelda looks, as both sheik & a princess. ❜ but, with that in mind, lets move on.

i think it’s interesting how similar zelda’s outfit is as an adult ( which she ISN’T, she’s SEVENTEEN, but i digress - ) to the one she wears as a child, & my interpretation of it is that it’s very deliberate - & another glamour. ( seriously, where the fuck would she get a dress like that ? ) zelda hasn’t been seen in public, as herself, in seven years. the last people saw of her, as mentioned by those in castle town prior to drawing the master sword, is her fleeing the castle on horseback with her attendant, & that might have been the first glimpse some people had of her at all. when ganondorf is sealed away, & she re-emerges, she’s dressed similarly in order to spark recognition in people’s minds, & also because she knows that it may be difficult to prove she is who she claims to be, considering the king is dead, & impa has ascended as a sage, & can’t vouch for her. surviving nobles who interrogate her on her memories are able to confirm her claim to the throne, but if she had just strolled into kakariko village in casual dress, it’s very likely she would have absolutely been dismissed.

because of this, zelda’s feelings towards her appearance end up... complicated. in the aforementioned child timeline au verse, where she has a privileged, but more normal, adolescent socialization, she’s quite accepting of her own appearance & how feminine it is, because in that timeline, she fits the mold of what people expect a princess to be - she’s tall, she’s graceful, she’s pretty, & she’s rewarded for fitting that ideal. in her canon universe, where a life on the run left her with an entirely different body type, an indifference to feminity, many insecurities about her suitability as queen of hyrule, especially in her first years of being on the throne, & a desire to conform to others expectations of her ... it’s a perfect storm, whose origins can be traced directly to her choice to homage her childhood dress during her reappearance in hylian society.

insecurity & fear feeds a lot of her choices in how she presents herself at the beginning of her reign. her body type is what some would call androgynous, others vaguely masculine - broad shoulders & small breasts which combine to give the illusion of her hips being narrower than they are, & she though she herself is content with that, she fears scorn by others because of it, so she works to minimize these features, & she plays up to feminity. her wardrobe primarily consists of dresses, gowns & robes, all loose fitting, all sleeved to at least the elbow, preferably in a style which leaves her biceps covered, & indistinct beneath the fabric. the gold pauldrons she wears as an adult feature in most, if not all, of her garments until her official coronation, seven years after ganondorf was sealed away - they provide her a measure of security, give her a regal appearance, & do a lot of heavy lifting, in conjunction with the sleeves of her gowns, to hide her shoulders & biceps, to the point where people are surprised at just how muscled she is when they come off - she hides the results, but even as queen, she still trains as she did when she was in hiding. most people are accepting of how she looks, but as is always the way, the few harsh comments she hears deafen her to the compliments - the only thing zelda wants, in the end, is for hyrule to recover, & for her people to thrive, & for that, she needs to be a good queen to them. to be a good queen, she must live up to their expectations. her attempts to live up to that via her appearance lead to her first breakdown, three months after her coronation.

it’s not just her appearance, of course - there’s enough stress to go around trying to get hyrule back on its feet again in a fair way, whilst trying to make her own mark as queen & live up to her parents’ peacekeeping legacy - but the nitpicking from a few members of her court, & the constant moving of goalposts as she attempts to satisfy their criticisms of her appearance, is the catalyst for her eventual declaration that she is done trying to satisy other people’s unreasonable explanations. the queenly mask she wears for other people’s benefit is suffocating her, so she decides to break it, & forge a new one. if she is going to be feminine, it is because she chooses to be, not because people expect her to be. if she wishes to dress as a man does, who can stop her ? if androgyny is what she feels, she will not deny herself. so, after a good cry, zelda does what every twenty-four year old going through a tough time does - she cuts her hair. she no longer tries to hide her body or disguise her frame. she is the queen, & the people will accept her as she is.

& most do ! hyrule has some strange looking people in it. a queen with a pixie cut is not the end of the world. she keeps it short for a good while, as a symbol of both her & hyrule’s fresh start, but eventually she begins to let it grow out again, with its length varying at ... well, various important points in her life. a short bob when she begins the programme to build new villages & settlements in hyrule. shoulder length when she begins courting to secure the throne for the future. waist length when she marries. she cuts it to above her shoulders once more when her first child is born, & keeps it mostly at that length until the end of her life, mostly for practical reasons. she was never ashamed of her body, before or after she became queen, as it was proof of her survival, but she became a lot more confident in herself as queen after she stopped letting other people, & her own well-intentioned, if misguided, fantasies of what a queen should look like dictate her life. that doesn’t mean to say that was that, every dark thought about her appearance swept away - there were days afterwards where she still despaired of her appearance, of the image she was projecting to others, of the judgements being passed on her & her country that came from her looks alone - but they were infrequent compared to the constant anxiety she felt about her appearance prior to the night she took a knife to her hair. they also weren’t enough to stop her from maintaining her physique, either - the training regime she began as a child continued into her late sixties, when she finally felt confident enough in the kingdom’s safety to stop, but the results of it meant that zelda was powerfully built through her whole life. even the birth of her children, which softened her body, couldn’t diminish much of her muscled appearance. shedding the weight of others opinions ( of her appearance, at least ) allowed her to stand tall until the end of her days. her body told the story of her life, & eventually, she was proud to let people see it.

#⌜ ❛ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜɪsᴛᴏʀʏ & ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴇʀᴍs. ❜ ⌟ ✦ ( headcanon. )#( will i ever do a short headcanon ? all indicators point to no #can you believe i wrote all this just to say that zelda is shredded & also had a pixie cut once #the irish inability to be concise strikes again )#self-esteem issues /#self image issues /#body issues /#negative body image /

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