#this was supposed to be a full drawing but im irritated and mad

[comicfizz]

yeah

[poptod]

Cambridge Ghouls pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Your friend’s antics has pulled you and Ahk out of your comfortable library and into Scotland.

Notes: been a hot minute since i updated this so renewal on what is going on here: you are a zombie named crayon who lives on the grounds of cambridge university. your friends are ahk, a revived mummy; amy, a ghost; phillip, a vampire; rose, a corpse; and benjamin, a human. i wrote and came up w this while high and i feel like im following in the footsteps of shawn, the writer of natm. enjoy the story i tacked onto the one drawing i made WC: 6.8k

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The pressure of your head on his shoulder, face hidden in the beaded cloth of his collar, was the only sensation he cared to feel. Early hours of night often lead to this position––cradled in blankets, trying to learn English, and trying to cope with the new world the both of you were vomited into. Tonight was much the same, though the familiar warmth of the hearth was cold in the dusty dark of the library room.

Your friends had yet to join you, a fact that had Ahk glancing at the door every five minutes. It was unlike them to take so long. If he had to guess, he'd surmise they'd gotten into a spot of mischief, and were held up with their own problems. That happened an unfortunate amount of times, but Ahk didn't mind much, as it often left the two of you in peace and quiet. While the four of them cavorted off on school grounds, he kissed the top of your head.

"- and did I ever tell you where I got that from?" came from behind the door, muffled but growing steadily closer. The footfalls of several people followed, and Ahk assumed it was his friends finally visiting you and him.

The door slamming open startled you into a jump that pushed your cat off your lap, knocking Ahk's jaw as you frantically scanned the room. His lower teeth clashed with his upper, sending a sharp wave of pain through his skull, one that quickly dissipated upon seeing his friends. Phillip, leading the pack, was talking loud and fast with wildly fast hand movements, and was clearly not being understood by anyone present. Amy followed close behind, floating above the heads of the others for ease. Then came a very distressed-looking Ben, whose usual soft features were contorted into panic.

Phillip continued talking for a minute, unchallenged for attention, until Ahk, who grew easily irritated at times, finally stopped him.

"Phil!" He said, his accent still twisting his words. "None of us can understand you."

"Wh -" he paused at last, looking to each of them, "I – Ben lost my violin!"

"A what?" Ahk said, taken aback.

"I'm sorry!" said Ben in a fluster.

"He did what?!" said Amy.

You stumbled over quietly, hanging off of Ahk's arm as you attempted to listen.

"I got that violin from my grandfather, crafted out of this beautiful wood and enchanted, and... ohh! You are so irritating sometimes," Phillip whined, growing into a growl as he pointed a finger at Ben.

"Enchanted? What, like a magic violin?" Amy asked.

"Precisely like a magic violin," Phillip said with a sigh, looking dramatically morose. What else could you expect of a vampire from the 1600's?

"Can someone please tell me what a violin is?" Ahk said, glancing between Ben, Amy, and Phillip.

"It's an instrument like the harp or lyre," Amy quickly explained. "Ben borrowed a 'special' violin from Phil after almost failing music class."

"I can't afford to fail another class," Ben moaned, "I'm already two classes over the limit, and my parents can only do so much."

"Mein Gott," Phil said under his breath.

"Is your grandfather going to be mad?" Ben asked nervously, turning to Phil.

"No, they're not hard for him to make. He's just the only one who's capable of making them, and the wood is very specific. It's the only kind that can channel pure magic."

"So... the Tree of Life," Ahk said. He had his hands folded beneath his chin, eyes concentrated on the vampire.

"Something like that. It's just – look, I need that violin, too. We can go and try to find that tree and ask my grandfather to make another, and you can use it to pass the class, but after that it comes back to me. Don't take music next year," Phillip said, turning to face Ben.

"Damn it," Ben cursed. "Fine. Deal."

"Wonderful," Phillip said with a curt smile, shaking Ben's hand firmly.

Once he let go, Phillip went straight to the bookcase, supernaturally fast eyes scanning the many titles. Ahkmenrah watched on for a moment in mild confusion before his attention was diverted to you, your weight falling onto him as you leaned.

"Careful there," he murmured, helping to rebalance you. You wouldn't understand him, but the sentiment was there, and you stayed close-by.

Ben, being a tall lad, looked over Phillip's shoulder every time he pulled a book down. While he did that you got distracted by your cat Winchester purring at your feet, kneeling down to gather him in your clumsy arms. The undead cat––much like you––didn't weigh much after the rot.

"Amy, are these books up-to-date on their information?" Phillip asked, ignoring Ben's breathing in his ear.

"Why should I know that?"

"Because you know an absurd amount of things that don't really matter except for in certain, usually odd instances," Phillip replied without looking up.

"... most of them are up to date," she mumbled. Phillip thanked her before promptly returning to his search.

You tugged on Ahk's sleeve again, opening your mouth to say something but only a soft whine leaving you. He took your hand, facing you with concerned eyes, but said nothing. Instead he scanned your expression, waiting to see if you would motion or signify anything. You wouldn't understand his words, anyway.

"Hunngryy.." you suddenly breathed out, your fingers coming to rest on high on his cheek, dragging down to the end of his jaw. His eyes widened.

"Hungry?" He repeated.

Ahk turned to the others, contemplating how he would get you something to eat. There was no food in the library, and very little food in the whole of the school, what with the winter break nearing. Best choice would be to keep with the others, he decided.

"You'll be alright for a little bit, right?" He asked you. You showed no signs of any reaction, only staring at your fingers touching his face.

"Ahk, we need to go to Scotland," Phillip said, snapping a book shut and sliding it back into its' place on the bookshelf.

"What? Why?"

"Because of the British," he seethed, promptly whipping around and walking out the door.

Ahk watched on in his usual state of confusion, but knew better than to ask questions. As much of a leader as he was born and bred to be, he was happy to follow the vampire's lead, to look after you as the others panicked about their petty things.

So he took your hand––followed only when everyone else was out the door, and locked the library behind him, fingers still entwined with yours. Though your hands were in a constant clumsy blunder, you tried your best to keep still in his touch. He never minded. Your fingers, while a little cool, had a forgiving magic that calmed him easily.

Brisk night air hit his face the moment he exited the school, following his friends through the grassy fields growing outside the brick and mortar building. Disappointing as it was unavoidable, none of the stars showed in the sky, blurred by the bright streetlamps lining the puddle-filled roads. The distinct scent of rain––petrichor––intoxicated the air he breathed, a leftover of the rains plaguing the city all day. Cars passed by, though luckily not often, as the sound of a roaring engine followed by rainwater splashing up his leg was not something Ahk enjoyed. His beautiful, golden robes never fared well in dreary English weather.

You showed no aversion to the cold or the wet. He had never seen you shiver, or wipe rain off yourself, or avoid stepping in puddles. You tried to stay out of mud, yes, but that was about it.

Phillip paused at the roadside, glancing out at the street with wide, searching eyes. Ben joined him on his right, and the two of them began to look for a cab, a fact that Ahk only knew because it was how they always got around. Once you caught up to Ahk halting, you bumped into his shoulder. Winchester followed you in a quick strut, ever loyal to his owner. For a second you stumbled back, but with a tug from him you were centered, once again resting part of your weight on him. Without him, you slouched in a noticeably-undead way.

"Can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked Amy, though he kept his eyes on the two men trying to hail a cab.

"One moment," she said.

A second later and he noticed the car driving up, rolling wheels flicking water onto the shined ends of Ben's tailored shoes. He stepped back with a gasp, backing into Phillip, who quickly pushed him away. Once the cab came to a full stop, Phillip made his way to the front window to speak with the driver. After a quick conversation, the five of you crammed into the back of the cab, your knees held up high to your chests with each of your hands in your respective laps.

"Now can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked again.

"We're going to Scotland to get the tree," Amy said.

"It's a specific strain that doesn't exist in England, but there should be a few up in the highlands," Phillip further explained.

"Are we taking a cab all the time?"

His slip-up in english was overlooked as Phillip said, "we're getting to the train station. Won't be a comfy car but we should get there in time."

"We'll need you two to get the tickets for us. They see Ahkmenrah, or Crayon, they're going to ask questions. If they see me, well... um.. I suppose I could just act like a ghost," Amy said, trailing off as she thought strategically.

"Good point. And we need an excuse for when they come to check our tickets," Phillip said as he leaned inward into the group, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"Movies! Or – or a musical, how's that work?" Ben suggested in a sudden moment of brilliance, a wide smile matching his sporting tone.

"Good idea, for once. And – wait," Phillip paused, "is the screen between us and the driver...?"

"It's there," Amy said, sparking a sigh of relief out of Phil.

"Gott sei Dank," Phil mumbled.

For the next 10 minutes of driving that should've been six without traffic, the three of them discussed the technicalities, the lies they would have to formulate in order to achieve their goal. In that time you began to gnaw on your fingers, hunger tearing at your already shoddy intestines. Ahk scolded you twice, though it never worked, and the third time he did so you whined and hid your face in him. He sighed quietly, leaning in to kiss the top of your head.

As the cab began to slow to a halt, Benjamin pulled out his wallet, handing several notes to the driver through the tray given. With that the five of you stumbled out of the tiny black automobile, watching it speed off only to stop at the next hailing woman.

"Alright, you guys wait out here. Benjamin and I will be back in a couple minutes," Phillip said, halting you, Ahk, and Amy beside a bench near the entrance.

Though clearly irritated by the command, Amy took the invisible seat beside the bench. Ahk took a seat as well, and you easily followed, fidgeting with the skin on your hands.

"How long will they take do you think?" Ahk asked.

"Ten minutes maybe? Neither of them have great... people skills," Amy said hesitantly, her eyes never leaving the doors of the station.

A tug on his head stopped him from asking for clarification, and instead he turned back to you, patiently but quietly asking what you were doing. You hummed something unintelligible, continuing to pull at his crown. To spare himself the headache he took it off for you, handing the heavy gold to you, and chuckling softly when you couldn't quite carry it.

To your side sat Winchester, who gingerly sniffed the shining metal before shrinking away in disdain. You mumbled something again before landing a kiss on top of the cat's head.

"I'm going to need that back, you know," Ahk said with a chuckle, bringing your attention back to him.

You just tilted your head and smiled, slightly spaced out but eyes filled with a warmth. Every now and then he glimpsed this, this spirit that had nothing to give but kindness, who shone from the best center a human can have; honest adoration for another. You raised your hand, tangling your fingers in his dark hair and ruffling the curls there.

For a moment you tried to say something, but as it continually didn't come out right, you instead attempted bopping his nose with your fingertip. Attempted meaning not successfully; you missed and almost poked him in the eye, but Ahk flinched and you just poked him on his cheek. He chuckled, took your hand, and kissed the back of it.

A blush of sorts took to your cheeks. Like most times, you had little idea why you were feeling strangely, and thus pulled away from his touch. He knew not to mind by now.

"Amy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think they have any food in there?"

"Nothing that's open. Might have a coffee place still up, but... well, they might have some croissants. Bread," she said, taking a moment to think before she spoke.

"I don't think Crayon would eat it," Ahk said.

"Probably not." Amy looked past Ahk to you, watching you for a moment before continuing. "The dinner car might be open, though. Depends on how expensive the tickets are."

"Hmm," he sighed. "Thank you."

She nodded with a smile before turning back to the train station, the warm light of lamps both indoor and outdoor illuminating the empty waiting lines and streetsides. Those still outside were dressed in coats and scarves, though weren't piled up in different layers––those would have to wait for colder months, which would not come until the warmer ones came and went.

Most people ignored the three of you. Close to no light shone on the bench shadowed by the overhang, and since you kept quiet, no one bothered to spare an extra glance. In the dark, Amy was mostly invisible. You and Ahk didn't have that power, but you mostly looked like a homeless person, and Ahk... well, he wrapped himself up in his cape, and that was about the best disguise he could manage.

The door of the station clicked open, drawing all eyes to the approaching figure of Phillip, silhouetted against the lights of the station inside.

"Ben's inside, we booked a room and we're leaving in five minutes," Phillip said, almost out of breath as he stopped in front of you.

"Five minutes?" Amy asked as the three of you stood. "Rather last minute, isn't it?"

"It's a night train, no one's got tickets anyway," Phillip said, tapping the backs of each of you as you passed him, coralling you all into the building.

It wasn't warmer inside as Ahk expected, leading him to thoughtlessly tuck his arms into himself. He'd been looking forward to some warmth. Hopefully he'd find that on the train. Just as Amy surmised, most of the restaurants inside the building were closed, iron grates pulled over once-colorful shops. Ahk paused to take in what little architecture he could see in the dark, but was soon pulled away by Phillip leading the group onwards.

Once again he tapped your backs, counting each of you as you entered the halted train. You reached for Ahk's hand as you walked down the long hallway, searching for the right room number, which only Benjamin and Phillip knew. Most of the lights outside the train were dimmed by the darkened windows, and instead the way was shown by tiny lamps lining the hallways and rooms.

"Here," Ben said, stopping those ahead of him. You and Ahk turned, and the five of you piled into the little room, whose velvet seats were soon covered up by your group.

As usual, you took your seat beside Ahk, who had claimed a window seat that happened to be near the table as well. On the other side of the train car, there was nothing but empty tracks and the eerie darkness of cities at evening. You sniffed and leaned back against the Pharaoh.

"Mmm," you mumbled, turning to press your face into his side, "hunngryy."

"I know," he said softly. "Do we have a food car?"

"I don't know if they'll have any real food, but they probably have snacks," Phillip said, still situating himself in the crowded room.

Ahk looked to Amy, who shrugged.

"Might as well try," she said, and with no reason to refute her, Ahk clumsily led you past the seated legs and back into the hallway.

The train began to rumble forward as the two of you walked. You bumped into Ahk's back when it happened, but you regained balance easily, and two train cars down you found the dining car. Only one light was on, sat upon the bartop beside a single bowl of nuts. The windows, lined by red and gold curtains, showed nothing but speeding darkness outside.

You moaned uneasily, tugging on Ahk's sleeve as your eyes remained entranced upon the flickering buildings outside.

"Fast, isn't it?" He said softly, glancing to you before looking back outside. "You'll be alright?"

Of course you didn't understand his words, but seeing as he wasn't upset by the high speeds, you calmed down. He then glanced over the bar counter, searching for any food besides the bowl of nuts. Upon finding nothing his face screwed up in dissatisfaction.

"Will you eat nuts?" He asked as he took the bowl, handing it to you.

You fingered through them, pushing aside the ones you deemed inedible. He watched you for a little while––and you did take a while to sort the whole bowl––but in the end you only ate about three. It might tide you for a little while, but you would have to eat again later.

After thoroughly searching the train car, the two of you returned to the rest of your friends, who had made busy discussing the fickle state of Phillip's teeth. Phillip himself wasn't engaging much considering he didn't find the topic an agreeable conversation point, and his stubbornness had led way to Ben and Amy getting once more embroiled in debate.

"I honestly think his teeth grow. I'm pretty sure I've heard of that being a condition, and I mean, it happens to rabbits. It could happen to humans," Ben said, crossing his arms but keeping a polite tone. Amy, however, had no consideration for such niceties.

"I... I don't care to unpack all that, but we've told you this before. He's a vampire. He can retract his teeth, and that's why they have different sizes at different times," she explained in a seething voice, her teeth clearly gritted behind her lips.

"Where would someone store a retracted tooth? It's not like claws, there's no space in the skull," Ben said, completely passing over the very clear indicator of something he had yet to figure out; Phillip was a vampire.

"Tiny bit of food over there, but I'm still going to be looking," Ahk said halfheartedly to Amy, crawling in beside her on the bench. "How long's this ride supposed to be?"

"Ten hours," Phillip replied gruffly, his half-lidded eyes staring vacantly out the window. He slouched against the wall, balancing his cheek on his palm, elbow rested on the tiny desk beneath the glass.

"Oh dear," Ahk said, his voice suddenly small.

"Yes, well," Phillip sniffed, shifting in his seat, "we'll have to be quick once we get there. Our ticket back is for the coming morning."

"Wait, morning?! Have you forgotten Crayon and I can't see the sun?"

"Oh, shit, my apologies," he said, eyes wide as he remembered your unfortunate curse. He stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit. "I'll, um, I'll go see the director. I'm sure I can get something sorted, trade in your tickets for, um... tomorrow night. We can get you a hotel room or something."

He left quick after that, scooting past all your legs before pushing himself out the door. A deep uneasiness settled itself inside Ahk, appearing in the form of a racing heart, and paranoid thoughts. To die, to risk seeing the dawn just for a violin, seemed to him a strange way for his story to end. He had a feeling––one that would never go away––that he would not die to the sun. Not him, the undead King of a sunkissed land. Still, just because he was somewhat-certain about himself not dying, he had you to worry about. You didn't understand the whole 'sun will kill you' thing all that well, and you had no fear regarding the morning. He would have to keep an eye on you the later into the night it got.

The stars, once clogged by streetlamps and busy restaurant lights, shone brighter in the suburbia sprawling out across the land. Very slowly the tall buildings began to fade, and the homes grew less and less frequent till each one had a personality of its' own. Grass and overgrowing flora took the place of wide, car-lined streets, and eventually the short brick walls flanking either side of the train tracks fell away to show the whole of the land.

Ahk didn't need sleep. You didn't either, but the two of you nonetheless curled into one another, dozing in the warm light as the others conversed quietly. He overheard little (considering he didn't care to listen), but the others seemed to be in good spirits despite the loss of an apparently valuable violin.

Brakes screeching outside brought him to stir, dazed eyes landing first on the pale sky, and then to you, completely zonked out. He chuckled but had no time to comment on it before Phillip was rushing the five of you out, grabbing the few coats you kept in the top rack and coralling you down the hall.

The air here had a certain taste; that was what Ahk first noticed upon exiting the train. Although the sky was already beginning to lighten, it was clear the sun would not come for a good several hours, as the stars still shone in the darker pockets of space. Rolling hills and jagged mountains surrounded him, framing the tiny train station that remained entirely unoccupied save for him and his friends. Down the grass-filled valley lay a town whose houses consisted of wood, painted dull colors but decorated with flowers, petals of red, yellow, and purple lining the brick roads. Very little light from the horizon reached the town.

Phillip hit Amy on the side. "There," he said, eyes trained on the distance as he pointed across the outdoor station, "tree groves. Looks like pine."

"Indeed it is," she said with a smile.

"Is that what we need then? A pine tree?" Ben asked.

"Well... sort of," Phillip said, shrugging.

He scanned the train stop, and in less than a second he began to go in the right direction, headed for the tall bridges that crowned the railroad. The others followed quick behind, though Ahk had to grab your hand and pull you away from the alluring lights of the town.

"Hunng..gry," you whined, stumbling over your feet as you tried in vain to escape Ahk's grasp.

"Crayon, you can't go down there," he said, feeling more and more as though he was taking care of a child. "Come now."

You whined again but made no more attempts to refuse. Once you caught up to the rest of the group, the sudden loss of speed in Ahk's step had you bumping into him again, but once your head rested on the back of his shoulder you stayed put. Each time you rested yourself on him in any way, a fluttering light would suddenly overtake him with a blush. This was only strange because you did that a lot––each night, multiple times, you would put your head on his shoulder, lean on his chest, rest your hands in his lap. Another charm of yours.

Freezing damp surrounded his feet, open to the coming breezes since he never wore anything but sandals. His state of being mostly-undead kept him from feeling a good deal of the cold, there was still a tingling numbness, apparent in all of his fingers and the tip of his nose. For the first time he shivered, helpless to the vibrations pulsing through him.

"Ah, careful here," Phillip said, slowing the pace to make way for a long, stone fence ranging all the way down into the village. "The rocks are still very wet, so..."

Amy floated on over the wall, materializing her hand to help Phillip step over. He took it with a thank you, balancing himself on her, and soon helping Ben and Ahk over as well. Even Winchester got over, his large paws landing on the stones before jumping back down into the mud and grass. Unfortunately, you were still on the other side and incredibly confused. Your head tilted to the side, brows furrowed deeply as your mouth hung half-open.

"Take my hand, dear," Ahk said as he held out his own hand, which you gingerly took.

Your grip remained as gentle as you could manage, a habit you grew after accidentally hurting Ahk, but the habit had you nearly slipping and cracking your skull further.

"Woah there," Phillip said, instinctually zipping over to catch you. "Just – sit on the rocks."

Although you didn't understand, Ahk made sure to motion to you, and you reluctantly sat on the rocks. Your face scrunched up as your pant soaked from waist to ankles. With a little help, you swung your legs over.

"Alright, good?" Phillip asked the group at large, looking to each of you. When he received all nods, he continued onwards to the nearing grove of trees, searching carefully for any dips in the terrain.

"How are you, my dear?" Ahk asked to only you, his voice a murmur in your ear. He leant in to speak more secretively, an action that made you giggle, which in turn brought a smile to his face. Of course you couldn't verbally respond, so instead you gently headbumped him in the shoulder.

The same questions as always rang in his head as he watched you, wondering if you understood any part of him at all. It was clear by now there was something in your head––you had learned the word for hunger, and you showed affection to him specifically. Was that because he was a safe space, or because you loved him? He tried to never contemplate it, as it was likely he would never get answers, even if he wanted nothing more than that.

"Alright, so, we're looking for trees that can support magic. It's relatively easy to test it," Phillip said, ducking beneath the unavoidable branches to continue through the grove. "Just concentrate your magic into the tip of your finger and put it to the tree. If it leaves a burn mark, it isn't magic, but if the light flows through the bark, it works with magic. It'll look a bit like glowing veins."

"You'd know all about that," Amy mumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, and he didn't pry further.

"Um, Phillip?" Ahk said slowly, raising a single brow as he scanned the forest. "How do we, um, consecrate magic?"

"Concentrate," Amy corrected.

"What? I thought you could. You're a cursed mummy, why wouldn't you have magic?" Phillip said with a frown.

"I don't have it either," Amy said, raising her hand slowly, reluctant to meet his eye.

"You're – okay, alright, it's fine. I suppose I'll... just have to check myself," he grumbled, cursing under his breath as he turned back to the woods.

"So how do we do the magic?" Ben asked quietly once Phillip had left earshot.

"Unless you come from sorcerers, we don't," said Amy.

"What's sorcerers?" Ahk asked, and although he hadn't meant to, Amy began to grow irritated.

"A type of person who uses magic. Come on, let's catch back up," she said, expertly pulling the conversation off of her, and onto the path ahead.

He didn't remember when you stopped touching him, or when Winchester had disappeared from sight, but as he looked behind him panic filled his lungs. You were not there. Actually, you weren't anywhere in sight––you, and your cat, had run off.

"Amy!" Ahk said, eyes widening as his face paled. "We've got to find Crayon!"

"Wh- you let them run off?!"

"I thought they were still with me!" Ahk cried, holding his head in his hands as dread dripped from his eyes like tears.

"Ben, go find Phillip. We have to find Crayon," Amy said, and with that Ben sped off, and Amy floated above the trees. "I'll try and find them in this direction. Go fifty paces that way and then come directly back, it won't work if you get lost as well."

"Um – what's paces?"

"Fifty steps or something," she said.

"I'm.. really sorry, what's fifty?"

She sighed but floated back to the ground, patiently taking the time to write it out in Egyptian numerals in the dirt.

"Ohhh," he mumbled. "Thank you."

"Of course. Now go," she said, pushing him back to it.

Paranoia pounded in his heart as he walked, carefully counting the number of steps he took, and carefully keeping in the right direction. Much of his concentration stayed in keeping the right path, but the good rest of it was absorbed in looking for you. He was easy to spot in both day and night with his golden robes. You, on the other hand, blended in nearly everywhere. Perhaps your cat would give you away, but he didn't rely on that happenstance.

Throughout his search he remained in high alert, paying special attention to each of his senses. As much as he wanted to run through the forest, looking for you at every turn, it would do no more than waste his energy and get him as lost as you. So he kept to his pace no matter what his instincts told him, and retraced his steps once he hit 50.

"Any sight of them?" Ahk asked once Amy appeared from among the twisting branches.

"No," she said with a curt sigh. "No sign of the cat, either."

"Damn," he cursed. "Where would they have gone?"

"I don't –"

"AMY??!"

Phillip's voice nearly echoed with the strength of it. Amy just sighed, again, but took off in the direction of the yell. He followed quick after, following her ethereal form through the pines. The two of them soon came to find Phillip and Ben standing beside a tree that, as expected, had glowing tangles of string lining up and down the bark, much like veins.

"Find it?" Ahk asked, panting slightly from the exertion of running.

"Yes, but we've run into a horrible problem," he spluttered, clearly overwhelmed by the whole of the night.

"What's that?" said Amy.

"We forgot the ax," Ben said, hiding his face in his hands in such a way that his voice came out muffled.

"Oh... fuck," she said.

Muffled grumbling dragged him out of the conversation, though seeing as no one else turned, Ahk assumed he was the sole listener. For a moment it sounded like a wild animal, and his heart began preemptively racing in its' cage. Then came movement––the rustling of bushes and trees, footsteps sloshing in the mud as though something was being dragged.

Thick, clotted blood ran down from your mouth, streaking down your shirt and staining both of your hands. Flecks of it had landed all across your torso, coloring the dull mud caked onto the shirt. Winchester stood at your side, looking lovingly up at you, and on your other side you clutched the leg of a creature long-dead.

"Crayon," Ahk whispered out, and the conversation behind him fell silent, all eyes turning to you. No one moved, entranced in the strained breaths heaving your chest up and down.

You made your way forward, passing Phillip and coming to the tree, whose veins still held the eerie glow. Ignoring the sharp needles and branches, you grabbed the trunk. With a mighty shout and a horrible cracking that likened far too much to bones for anyone's comfort, the tree came crumbling down, a victim to the uncontrolled strength of the aggravated undead.

The four watched on in great surprise and mild horror as you turned back around, looking as though you'd done no more than picked up your cat.

"Ahhk..m," you mumbled past blood-soaked lips, shuffling forward. Halfway to him you dropped the leg of what was now clearly a sheep, and soon you bumped into him, leaning part of your frail weight on him.

He didn't react, too flabbergasted to do so. A number of things had him petrified, and all together it was too much––you going missing and then returning, covered in blood no less, and then the part he didn't know what to think of.

You said his name. Out of all the words you could have learned, you decided his name was most important; second to hunger, of course.

"Ummm..."

You hummed, satisfied, and wrapped your arms around Ahk, squeezing him. As much as he wanted to return the affection, you were still covered in blood that was now painting his stomach. Another horrid part was the smell––the raw meat you'd torn into and the half-dry blood beneath your fingernails, paired with the corpse of the sheep, whose white coat was now soaked in both blood and clotted sludge.

"Well... at least Crayon's back," Amy said, gesturing vaguely when Phillip raised his brow. Both were at a loss.

"Sun will rise soon, we need to get the tree back. Ahk," Phillip said, motioning the Pharaoh over, who quickly obeyed.

Phillip stood near the trunk end, split open to expose the raw wood, and Ahk stood at the tip on the other side. Once both were situated, they heaved upwards to balance the weight on each man.

Rain began to pour as the five of you made your way back to the train station, you remaining adamantly at Ahk's side despite his pace being a little too fast. After your massive splurge of strength, your muscles ached, and your mind was beginning to slow. Amy suggested that perhaps you got stronger––both physically and mentally––when you had a decent diet of raw meat.

"Do you think we could get food to them more often, then? Obviously it makes them feel better, so long as you don't exert too much of it at once," Ahk said, eyes narrowing playfully as they fell upon you. You made no sign that you understood but giggled from his expression.

"I don't know, raw meat can –"

"Crayon can just eat my leftovers," Phillip said, grunting as he adjusted the tree beneath his arm.

"Leftovers?" questioned Ahk.

"I get most of my blood from raw meat that you can get from a butcher. The meat'll be a tad pale, but it should work. Might even be less messy," he said.

"/Anything/ would be less messy than that," Ben said as he gestured to you.

"Don't bother about him," Ahk said, swiftly kissing your forehead. "He's just jealous you're stronger than him."

While Ben and Amy stood right outside the train station, guarding the tree, Phillip took you and Ahk down to the town down in the valley. The walk down was long and rainy eough that by the end of it, there was no need to go wash off in the river. Most of the mud and all of the blood had washed away. The only problem left was Ahk's clothes––to remedy that, Phillip gave him his long, sunproof coat, just for the morning.

Warmth finally enveloped him as the three of you entered the tiny hotel, glowing with yellow light but occupied by only a ticking clock and a woman behind the counter. Much of the rainy streets outside were blocked by the overgrowing flowers lining the windowsills. Phillip, using his human skills and human money, booked one of the five rooms available in the whole of the small hotel.

"Don't get much business here, do you?" Phillip asked as he rooted around in his wallet.

"Do, actually," the woman said with a sigh. "Ever since the castle got refurnished, that's the only place people want to stay. Plenty of customers, no business. Been here 50 years and that hasn't changed."

"... my apologies, ma'am."

The cheaper room happened to be the one with no windows which, for Ahk and Phillip, was a win-win. While Phillip could make do in the sunlight, wearing long coats, gloves, and bearing umbrellas, Ahk would not have that freedom. The two of you would have to stay in the little town with your tickets back until the next evening. Phillip left you there to rejoin Amy and Ben, hopefully to find Phil's grandfather and recarve that special violin.

"Nice enough room," Ahk commented once the two of you were left alone.

It wasn't anything grand––of course it wasn't, but it had that certain charm that made it feel quite cozy. An electric heater sat behind the door, and beside it stood a table, two chairs tucked into it and a small clock atop it.

He sat on the bed and you followed, fingering the scratchy blanket placed above soft, worn sheets.

"Don't wander off like that again," he said softly in his native tongue, concern in his tone as he raised your head to look him in the eye. "I get horribly worried about you."

Slowly you raised your hand, coming to rest your palm against his cheek. Your dull eyes, rimmed with red, told him of a sadness you couldn't quite articulate. In its' place you gave what would best substitute the words––a kiss on the forehead so carefully gentle he barely felt it. The way you moved, slow and cautious, made him feel as though he were made of porcelain.

"I feel as though we are the only sane people in the world," he admitted with a smile, blushing from your affection. "That's silly of me, isn't it? For the undead Pharaoh to think he and his undead friend are the sane ones. My old self would find this hilarious."

"Ahhk," you mumbled out, moving attentively till your arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, your cheek squished against his head. You kept moving, moved to your knees, and soon you were pulling him down to lay on the bed. He laughed and held you back, keeping your fragile form comfortably on top of his chest.

"You are, undoubtedly, one of the kindest creatures I've met," he said, whispered against your temple. Energy was beginning to leave him––/life/ was beginning to leave him, as the sun rose hidden behind the hotel walls.

Since you couldn't manage any more strength for words, you kissed the top of his head once more. As numbness filled his limbs, he tried not to think of the coming hours, how the two of you would be no more than corpses in a bed.

You were the first to stop breathing.

In the next evening the two of you snuck back onto the train, enjoying 10 hours to yourself before you were racing back to Cambridge. The sun would rise soon enough, and neither of you had money for a cab home, thus leaving only one option: sprinting.

The two of you collapsed with laughter as you slammed the door of the library shut behind you, the light of the sun already peering over the horizon.

"Gott sei Dank, you're safe," Phillip said, greeting the both of you with a smile and outstretched arms.

"Phillip, my friend," Ahk said, laughing, "thank you for your jacket. I don't think they would've let me without it."

"Of course!"

"And of the filing?"

"The what?"

Soft violin came from around the hallways of bookcases, filling the room with music just as the fireplace filled the room with warm light. Ahk took your hand, and the three of you made your way to the hearth, Ahk taking his seat on the floor with you, cradled in a swath of blankets. Above the two of you Ben played, dressed in a fitted black and white suit that accentuated the strength of his chest and his lean waist.

"You two have a fun evening?" Amy asked, careful to keep her voice below the volume of the violin.

"Wonderful," he answered for both of you. You nuzzled further into him, and with your head tucked below his chin, the two of you finally relaxed back in your home.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Bad Dream  -  Five

Pairing: Dark!Steve X Reader

Summary: A year after wiping your memory and keeping you for himself, Steve Rogers is happy. Happier than he’s ever been. With you and your daughter, life couldn’t be any better. The only problem? You’re starting to remember things.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, The plot Thickensssss

Word Count: 2K

A/n: WAYYY OVERDUE IM SORRY I SUCK. I’m lacking motivation for writing lately and it’s irritating me. Love y’all so much

!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!!

MADNESS MASTERLIST EDITED POORLY! BAD DREAM MASTERLIST

~*~

“Good Morning, sweetheart.” Steve kisses your cheek. You smile, confusion filling you at your body’s natural response to him.

Your stomach twists and flips and you push yourself into a seated position in bed.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head at his faux concern, holding onto your stomach tightly.

“I... I need some air,” you rasp, stumbling out of bed and towards the doors leading to the balcony. You throw them open and take deep breaths, leaning your forehead down against the railing.

Steve’s footsteps follow you and you feel tears well up in your eyes, fear making your body tremble.

“What’s wrong?” He repeats, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You flinch out from under it and let out a shaky breath. “I-I don’t know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing. “I think I’m coming down with something. I don’t know...” He smoothes your hair back then sighs.

“Did you eat something bad?” You shake your head. His fingers still on your back as a thought enters his mind. “When was the last time you got your period?” Horror fills you and you take a few deep breaths. “It’s been about two months. I thought... nothing of it. I’ve heard of women having irregular periods after birth but...” Your mind goes back to all the times he’s fucked you in the past seven months since you had Sarah and you nearly gag.

“I... I need...” everything blurs as you try to stand back up and you fall into Steve, head spinning.

“Woah! Hey, you’re okay.” He holds you steady, brows furrowed with worry as he sees the glazed-over look in your eyes.

“Can you hear me?” You can’t answer, trying to crawl out of your skin as he helps you to the bed so you can lie down.

Tears well up in your eyes and Steve can’t help but panic, thinking he triggered the wrong thing last night.

“Honey. I need you to relax, okay?” You try to take deep breaths, if not for him then simply so you can figure out what the Hell is going on.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head and take a few deep breaths. “I... I...” A knock on the front door cuts you off and you exhale deeply. “That’s Buck. He’s got Sarah. I’m gonna go get her and then we’re gonna see what’s wrong, okay?” You nod, watching as he gets up and walks out of the room.

Silent sobs wrack your frame as you realize what's happening to you, what he’s caused. The man who kidnapped you, wiped your memory, and raped you is going to get your daughter. The man who’s controlled you for nearly two years is holding you here against your will and there’s not a single person on the planet who’ll believe you.

~*~

“Mommy missed you so much,” you whisper, kissing Sarah on the head. She hugs you tightly, babbling nonsense into your ear while you pack your bag.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asks, frowning when he sees your stuff packed away.

“I feel homesick, I think. I want to see a doctor, find out what’s wrong.” He narrows his eyes at the shake in your voice then steps closer to you. “We’ve hardly been here. We’re going to enjoy our stay, alright? Then we’ll go home and see a doctor. But until then, I want to have fun.” He nips at your neck and you struggle to fight back tears.

Sarah chooses that exact moment to start wailing and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“She’s hungry and needs a nap,” you explain, pulling away from Steve and walking to the guest bedroom to feed her in privacy. “Where are you going?” Anger is seeping into his voice and you whimper softly.

“I-I just wanted a change of scenery. I’m sorry.” His features soften and he nods, kissing your forehead.

“I thought you were running from me.” You shake your head almost too quickly and he smiles. “Feed my daughter then put her for a nap. And... if you’re not already pregnant, I’m gonna get you full and growing my child by the end of the night.”

He leaves the room and you break down in tears, crying quietly into your hand as you sit down on the bed.

Sarah ceases her crying as soon as she latches onto your breast, but the same can’t be said for you.

How are you supposed to live knowing you’re being held captive?

Your mind goes to your father, Chief of police, and an idea starts to blossom.

~*~

“Dad? I need you to look into the reports that the Avengers put out about me. Something’s not right.” You can hear your dad moving around on the other line. “What exactly am I looking for?” He’s in business mode now.

“Anything that doesn’t seem right.” He exhales deeply. “I’ll try, kid. You safe over there?” “Yeah... for now. I need to get away from him, get out of here.” You glance over to the bathroom door, hoping that the fan, shower, and faucet are loud enough to mask the sound of you talking.

“I have to go now though. I’ll call you again soon.” You can hear him sigh again.

“Alright. I love you, kiddo. And I believe you. Please stay safe.” You sniffle, nodding to yourself. “I love you too. Talk to you soon.” You hang up and then strip until you’re naked and get into the shower.

You let the hot water run over your face, washing your salty tears away almost as fast as they appear.

It’s about ten minutes later when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Sweetheart? You’ve been in here for a while.” He pops his head in and you avoid looking at him through the fogged-up glass shower doors.

“I-I just got the temperature right. I’m still not feeling the greatest.” He walks into the room and closes the door behind himself, taking his shirt off. Your heart thunders in your chest and he smiles. “You’re always so responsive.” Little does he know, your heart is racing for a very different reason than he thinks.

He rids himself of the rest of his clothes and gets into the shower behind you.

“Jesus, you always like the water so hot.” He doesn’t flinch away from the water though, instead, he steps further under it until his body is flushed against yours, hardening cock pressed against the small of your back.

An involuntary whimper of fear leaves your lips and he sighs, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“The things you do to me...” His arms wrap around your midsection and you feel your body's reaction to him. Warmth builds in your core and you shift backwards, leaning into his embrace with little reluctance.

“I’m gonna fuck that tight pussy of yours. Make sure you’re pregnant. And you’re gonna take it, aren't you?” Your head jerks up and down, new tears filling your eyes as your body yearns for something that your mind wants to get away from. One of his hands comes up to hold your throat while the other trails down between your legs, sliding through the slick that’s gathered there.

You feel ashamed of the way you want him, the way your body’s been programmed to want him, but you can’t do anything to stop the soft moan of pleasure that leaves your lips when he slides two thick fingers inside of you.

“You like that? You like it when I fuck your greedy cunt with my fingers?” You make no move to answer and he squeezes your throat in warning. “You’d better fucking answer me when I ask you a question. Tell me how much you like it when I finger your pussy.” You choke on a moan as he curls his fingers and hits your g-spot, water stinging your eyes.

“I-I love it so much when you f-fuck my pussy with your fingers.” The words taste like acid and you feel absolute mortification fill you as you say them.

“Yeah, you love it. My good girl likes it when I fuck her little pussy. I’m gonna fucking destroy your cunt with my cock and you’re gonna like every second of it, aren’t you?” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes you against the shower wall.

“Yeah, you are. Cause you’re daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?” You fight the urge to cringe as you nod again, biting your bottom lip when he pulls his fingers out of you.

He pulls his hands away from you for a moment, just to spin you around and face him. You look up at him with fear in your eyes and he feels himself harden.

In an instant, your legs are hiked up on his arms and you can’t help the squeak the leaves you at the quick movement.

He holds you against the wall, arms keeping your legs up as he backs up a couple of inches, eyes trailing over your body. You’re completely at his mercy (which you know he won’t grant) and he inspects the way you’re opened up to him, utterly vulnerable. He stands dominant as ever, eyes dark with lust as he steps back to you, hard cock sliding through your folds and bumping your clit.

You moan and grasp his shoulders, eyelids fluttering shut at the intense feeling.

“Look at you. Already a desperate mess for my cock. Pathetic.” You don’t want to open your eyes. Don't want to look at his face. So instead, you throw your head back a bit more, letting the hot water rush over your face.

“Don’t worry, I wanna be inside you.” He slides through your folds once more then pushes inside of you, groaning as your walls flutter to accommodate his size.

He stills inside of you for a moment, leaning forward to press kisses to your neck. You take a few deep breaths, water getting into your mouth as you moan softly.

“You always feel so good around my cock. Always so tight.”

You arch your back subconsciously, walls squeezing his cock in a silent plea for movement.

“You want me to fuck your pussy good, huh? Want me to fuck another baby into that tight cunt?” You nod breathlessly, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, leaving bright red crescent moons that are so so close to drawing blood.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, your cunt was made to be fuckin’ wrecked by my cock.”

You bring your fist to your mouth, trying desperately to muffle your moans as he starts thrusting inside of you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that would come with knowing he’s so close to making you come.

“Come on baby, you know you can’t hide your pleasure from me. You know I’ll fuck the moans out of your pretty little mouth.” He starts thrusting harder, each time hitting the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can’t hold back, and a loud moan leaves your lips as his thrusts slam you into the wall.

The pain brings you so much closer to the edge and you squeeze your eyes shut, teeth grinding as you try to focus on the coil tightening in your belly and not the man causing it.

“You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum all over my cock?” He’s huffing hot pants of air onto your neck while he fucks you hard.

“Do it. Cum all over my dick.” Hot tears drip down your cheeks and you cum hard on his cock, muscles spasming as intense waves of pleasure roll through your body.

He fucks into you even harder, the tightening of your cunt around him sending him over the edge. His cum fills you and he grunts softly in your ear, body pressed tight against yours.

Silent tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold back sobs as Steve stays glued to your body.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. So perfect for me, sweetheart. You’re mine, you know that, right? Mine forever. Nothing can change that.” You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hopelessness sinking into your bones.

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch22 The Duke’s Return P2

(Mak belongs to @wasted-church)

The arrival of the jester was one a few would still flinch at. After all they couldn't forget the time over a hundred years ago when the man went made and tried to murder the King of Spades. But after his iron fisted ruling and the ways he treated his subjects, some were more forgiving than others and have at least tolerated his presence with the encouragement of the remaining grown kings and child giving him and all the other hundreds of prisoners full pardons of whatever their crimes were. But some if not most were still on edge over his being there. So when he popped into the throne room, doing a small pose in mid air and having confetti burst out of no where to go along with his appearance, he was greeted which a mix of happy and slightly worried faces of the kings. Lancer bounced happily in the duke's hold and clapped at his entrance...which was a far cry to the scowl that the duke was giving him. A small piece of confetti landed on his shoulder and he gave an angry huff to blow it off.

"My, my. And here I thought you all would be working hard, working hard." He changed his position to a cross-legged sitting position and settle his head in his clawed hands. Giving a hum and smile to the strained face of the duke. "And what can I do for the royals, royals today?"

"Lesser Dad wants you to help him." Lancer turned that innocent smile up to Rouxls and the worm's face did a complete 180 and a forced grin replaced his scowl immediately. "Right, Dad?"

The duke gave an emotionless chuckled. "But of course! I amst certain that thine fool-" His eyes narrowed back to him. "-willst helpest explain a few things easily.." Despite it all, Jevil never lost that giant grin, even when Rouxls gently placed the small boy down with a grunt and sat on his hunches to be near eye level to the child for a moment. "Thou be good now alright? Today's kingly meeting shouldst not best too long. I shall have thine cook preparest thou a snack once thee finishes."

"Ok, Lesser Dad."

The Duke stood back up, took a deep inhale to calm him, and let it before turning to the smiling menace giving him a professional forced smile. With a finger he motioned for the fool to follow him and he briskly walked past him, the wringing his hands were doing was rolling up the long piece of paper into a scroll in his hands. Though he didn't look behind him, he could feel the presence of the floating fool right behind him as they stepped their way over to the doors and a blue hand reached out and grabbed the doorknob.

"Duke Kaard!" He turned back around and raised a brow to the giant Hathy who gave him a nervous smile from across the throne room. "D-Do go easy on yourself..a-and him."

...."But of course, Mine Majesty." He gave a half bow while pushing the door open. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Come Fool!"

As soon as the door closed behind them, the scowl returned and Rouxls silently lead the floating menace down the hallways towards his office. Of course they got a few stares as suspected and a few were looking at them with happy loving eyes, like they were witnessing an old couple waltzing through the halls. Only they weren't and they were definitely anything but a happy couple, right now he didn't even look to the jester who kept leaning past and poking his head out next to him with a smile, but all Jevil got in response was the cold shoulder. It seemed like an eternity but they finally came to the famous office of the duke, and Rouxls opened the door before motioning to Jevil to go in. Jevil happily did so with a giggle, probably seeing this as some romantic gesture. He looked around the drab looking room before he turned around just as Rouxls slammed the door closed with a loud bang and looked at him with a twitching eye.

The scroll was pointed at him. "WHAT IN THINE HELL WERE THOUST THINKING?!" He exploded at him. But Jevil still kept that unwavering smile.

"What ever are you talking, talking about?" He asked in genuine confusion raising a brow, "Is the decoration's not to your liking, liking?"

Rouxls's hands gripped the shiny hair on his head and growled between gritted teeth. "No! You imbecile!" He threw both arms at him. "Were thou going around and spreading rumors about us being in a relationship!?"

Jevil's smile vanished and he blinked. Bringing a hand to his chest in surprise. "Me? Lie and spread rumors, rumors like some bully? I would never sink so, so low as to use public pressure to cheat in the game." He waved a hand and laid on his back, simaltaniously moving backwards in mid air towards the desk. "I simply stated that you and me were soulmates, soulmates. Nothing more or less than the truth. What's wrong with that?"

Rouxls groaned and reached his hands up to run down his face. The slimey skin stretched with it before snapping back into place when he released. "Don't thou realize what this ridiculous soulmate nonsense haseth been adding too?!"

Jevil merely gave a confused look as he leaned over the desk and a moment later picked up the lopsided heart card. Opening it too see Lancer's handy work with a smile. "It's not nonsense, nonsense It's actually quite easy to understand."

Rouxls groaned again and marched up to the desk, walking around it and snatching the card from Jevil's hands before sitting down. "Giveth me that!" The scroll was plopped onto the desk top and Rouxls stuffed the card into one of the side draws. "That tis not for thou!" The draw shut with a minor slam and he pointed up at the unamused jester. "If thou keepest this u-up thine thou can kisseth mine good graces good byeth!!"

Still confused Jevil shrugged. "But everyone would've found out evetually, eventually. Why would it be wrong to say it now?"

"Maybe thou would've taken into consideration that mineself was nay ready for a p-public relationship? O-Or if I waseth even ready for so many people knowing?!" There was a small pause as the two looked at each other and Rouxls went to put his face in his hands with a sigh. "....I thought we hadst a-an understanding of mine personal boundaries."

Jevil flinched ...and his long ears drooped slightly. "W-Was...that a part of your boundaries?"

...Rouxls waved him off and looked up from his hands at him. "It's n-nay matters now. What I need is your help with this"

He gestured to the scroll on the desk. Jevil blinked but with a flick of the wrist, it flew up into the air and the bottem unfuraled with a crinkle paper sound. The bottom hit the table and proceeded to run across the length and side of his desk, stopping two feet on the floor from them. But unlike Rouxls, Jevil didn't even seem fazed by it's enormous size as he lifted it higher with the flick of a wrist until it picked itself off the floor completely and was standing straight up in midair so he could read it all with a raised brow and a hum. ....And smiled. This is what he needed help with? Oh, he could laugh at such a teeny set of easy tasks, but he wouldn't as too not upset the duke more than he accidentally did.

With a giggle he looked down to the semi scowling duke and motioned to it. "This, this is what you're so gloomy over? This is child's play, child's play. Lancer has asked for more difficult tricks than this-"

"Can you helpest mineself with it or nay?" He was starting to get irritated again and this was supposed to be after a 'relaxing break.'

"...Will it make you happy, happy?"

He rolled his eyes."Poitively mad with glee-"

"Good! I shall finish these all within ...two days. A day, day and a half if I hurry, hurry."

Rouxls stared gobsmacked at the floating menace..and rose a brow..Did he hear right? Did he just expect him to shovel all the work onto him first chance he got? "What art thou spewing now? Thoust cannot simply just doth all mine tasks on thine own." He reached for the floating list but it moved with a flict of that risk.

"Tsk, tsk. Silly duke.~" Those eyes and cheshire grin smiled down at him like the first time they had met, but they didn't scare him anymore. Far from it, those teasing yellow eyes mocking him and inabilities compared to the magical power this Kaard mix beheld and he hated it,...but something was intruiging about this silent challenge that beckoned his curiousity to come and witness the power this man held. Jevil giggled and shifted himself once again in that crosslegged position. "I made a mistake, mistake. I would like you to allow me to make it up to you like my last mistake."

The worm's scowl meant it wasn't going to be a busy thing to settle. "Nay! I refuseth to sit on mine arse while work needst to be done!" He stood up and pointed at him and with an authoritive voice demanded, "As thou's suporier I demand thou giveths mineself that list at ounce! I refuseth to let you do all that work alone!!"

That worked as well as you'd think. "Im flattered you think of me that way, that way. But what I can do in half the time you can seems like a better option don't you think?" Rouxls answered with a questioning look and he sighed. "I mean with what work load you have suddenly, suddenly been handed it would be almost impossible for you to get done within, within the date provided. But on the other hand I can handle all this with ease. Think, think about it. Cut your loses.~"

The gear turning blank look ROuxls gave next made him chuckle. ".....And what wouldst I do in the meantime?"

"Your normal boring, boring duties," he waved a hand, "I'll even let you set up the banquient, banquient if it makes you feel better. I could not stand the bland taste, taste of most noble food anyhow."

He still didn't look all convinced but at the same time his scowl had disbanded. ".....And in return you wouldst getteth what exactly?"

"The satisfaction of knowing I helped, helped you. Now, do you want me, me to help?" Rouxls sighed and justed stared at him, before nodding his head yes reluctantly at him, and Jevil happily smiled. "Wonderful, wonderful!! Let us get started!!"

A ripping sound befell their ears and when those mitchmatched eyes looked up in confusion, he yelped at the sight of the long list splitting off in four places. What was this fool doing?! He looked back to give him a peice of his mind, but gave a squeal of shock when more than one pair of yellow and Black eyes peered back at him. "W-WHAT THINE FUCKETH!?" The three Jevil's laughed at him, it was so disturbing hearing three pairs of the same laughter from three....NO. His frightened eyes could see that the other two Jevil's were still semi attatched to the main one and the other two were...s-see through? L-Like he was staring at a pair of ghosts trying to posesses one person that looked exactly like them! Eventually the other two Jevils detatched themselves from the main Jevil who didn't even bat an eyelash but instead stretched his back out with a pop and groan.

"It's been so long, so long since I did a copy spell, spell. Takes a lot of energy, energy." The terrified duke could only stare in shock from behind the desk chair he hid behind before a peice of paper flew in front of his face. He flinched and had to blink a couple times for his brain to finally register that it was a chunk of the old list. The top part to be exact, with everything crossed out exept for one at the very bottem which said: Banquient Food. Meanwhile the other three papers flew into the claws of the two ghost Jevil's and the normal one. All exactly copying each other to the T with grabbing the paper, and turning there head with a hum. "Hmm. All of this is easy, easy. Three hundred invitations with these rules, rules should be easy.~" "Organizing staff, staff and cleaning should be easy.~" "All these minor, minor chores should be easy, easy.~" It was so disturbing how the three of them said different things but ended with the same words but he flinched when they all looked back to him. "Don't be frightened, frightened. I assure you this is perfectly safe, safe."

"...W-What didst thou do?"

"A simple copy, copy spell!" They all said back to him at the same time as they gestured to one another. "Don't worry, don't worry. My ghostly selves have no mind of their own and they never will, will. I just simply temporraily split two small peices of my soul two expand, expand my senses. I can hear and see out of them-" They...He?? pointed at their faces. "But I assure you I control the whole thing.~ Not a lot of others can perform this spell since it takes a lot, a lot of energy and concentration. So it's a rare, rare spell to see. I only used to use it, use it for my bigger performances."

.....He blinked and shook his head. Was there anything he should really doubt he could do anymore? "O-Oh, I see. T-That maketh sense....I think."

The three of them giggled and waved to him, "I beleive, beleive the man who could help you would be a Mr. Topchef. His bakery, bakery is a little ways from Seam's home."

A full round of giggles escaped from the three of them and with a three pairs of snaps from their fingers, they disappeared in a small poof of smoke and confetti. He blinked and watched as the small peices of colorful paper fell to the ground before slowly turning back to the still floating peice of paper.....and shakily reached up a hand to grab it......And sighed. And just when he thought things would be back to normal.

**************************************************************************************************

The first thing he did once he gathered his sense was try to head to the Kings....Key word try as it was very difficult to maniver around the sudden flock of cleaning suppiles being moved around by themselves. He found that out when a feather duster dusting the wall accidentally got in his face once the door opened. He coughed and wacked the dusty thing away, and stared in shock at all the other staff ducking out of the cleaning suppiles way or watching them with a confused face. Rouxls sighed and rubbed his head in shame. Oh he was gonna get in big trouble wasn't he?.....Well, he was once again surprised when he was proven wrong after dodging all the flying scrub rags and sweeping brooms until he made it to the throne room. Opening the doors and freezing in horror at the absolute scene before him. King Diamod was cursing and trying to swat away a relentless duster trying to get to his crown and all five heads of the King Clubs was laughing at the scene. Lancer was giggling and running around chasing after a literal dust bunny hopping around the floor, which only got bigger the more dust it picked up...On second thought. He had scene those literal dust clouds shaped like rabbits hopping about the halls. In his hast he thought they were all just rabbicks, but now he realized the things hopping around were rabbits made of clouds of dust getting bigger with all the dust that magically flew off all corners of the castle and joined their already filthy bodies. The worm was half tempted to scream at Lancer to stop playing around and don't chase the filthy animal around...but thought better of it, since it looked like he was enjoying himself.

"Duke Kaard!" He jumped and looked up to his majesty King Heart who was 'looking', nevermind since he didn't have eyes, at a floating bucket of water and a small rag that dunk itself back into the bucket, wrung itself out and then proceeded to continue washing one of the giant window...He he turned his worried expression to the blue man. "W-What in light is going on here?!"

That nervous smile came back to his face and he could already feel the slimey sweat starting to fall down his face when he stood in the doorway and stuttered. "W-Well, I-I-I may or may not perhaps...haveth asked for help? Ahehe..heh."

The giant Hathy looked at him and went to say something but jumped and turned back around when a muffled scream and coughing came from the equally giant Rudinn. King Diamonds face was being attacked by the duster before finally grabbing the stupid thing and throwing it across the room. Making Rouxls yelp and duck as it grazed the top of his head. The King Clubs laughing still echoing at the spitting and groaning of their fellow ruler. And Heart sighed, head folling Lancer as he attempted and failed to jump and catch the dust bunny running around.

"...W-Well that explains this unusual event, now doesn't it?" He gave a sigh as Diammond growled at Clubs and went to wipe his face. "Well m-maybe you should perhaps tell him to ease up on the entire thing, and perhaps give a warning for what you two are about to do next time? Everything suddenly came to life and I could've sworn there was a bunch of ghosts involved."

Rouxls chuckled nervously and made his way in. Careful to dodge the still working mods and brooms, and flying rugs floating out the open windows. Was one small entity like Jevil really doing all of this by himself? He couldn't help even in his nervous state to admire and admit the absolute amazement of the power of someone like him. Guess his 'I can do anything' attitude really did apply to a lot of things. "D-Duely noted, M-Mine Majesties. B-But if we could please discusseth thine delicacies for thine b-banquet, it wouldst beth a big help!"

"Oh, well of course! Anything to help you dear Duke." He smiled down at him as the nervous man finally stopped in front of him. Sighing and turning the peice of torn off list around to the blank side, pulling a feathered pen out of no where and giving a tired smile up to the giant hathy. Out of all the kings- minus Lancer- Rouxls enjoyed talking to the hathy the most. He enjoyed how down to earth and passionate about his job he was. Said king lifted a tentacle to rub at his chin and hummed in thought..."Something sweet. I'd love a giant punch display!"

"CAKE!!" Rouxls jumped and looked down to the small child wagging his tail excitedly and grabbing his pants leg. "A GIANT CHOCOLATE CAKE AND ICE CREAM!! AND MAC AND CHEESE AND A GIANT BOWL OF DARK CANDY AND ANOTHER GIANT BOWL OF SALSA!!"

Rouxls blinked and gave a chuckle. "Um..L-Lancer. Doth thou think all that wouldst be a little too much for thou's subjects' taste?"

"Who's the King, Lesser Dad?"

"*sigh* Thou are." He groaned and jotted down what Lancer had asked for, but made sure to write down 'small' by the bowl of salsa and candy. "Anything else?"

"I want a roast!" He ounce again jumped when one of King Clubs heads poked over his shoulder and stared down at him quickly followed by the other four. "A roast sounds n-nice." "MAKE IT BIG AND NOT BURNT!!" "Maybe a saled would be better." "I want two roasts, please!!"

"S-Slow down p-please, Your majesty. I-I cannot keepest up with all of thou. *sigh*" More writing was jotted down and he paused to pull Lancer to the side to avoid an in coming broom fly by before continuing. "Shall there best anythinge else thine majesties wishes?"

"Just make sure everything tastes good!!" "B-But shouldn't we ask Clover what she wants?" "Good idea!"

He sighed again. This would take a while-...

****************************************************************************************************

Whelp! He wasn't wrong. It did take quite a while whith the five heads of one king and the other two trying to get more requests in while Lancer pulled on his pants trying to get his attention was anything but easy. But somehow with all the chaos going on he made a list he was partially satisfied with. So much for everyone bringing food with the short notice, this called for extreme measures as soon as possible. Which meant skipping walking and just teleporting to the closest pinpoint he could teleport to Seam's Sheap. His own store. And that's where his new journey began it seemed. Trudging his way from one store to another. Seam didn't seem all that surprised when the flap to his Sheap opened and the white haired worm came in a second later. But he did give a curious look from the back when he did hear it open.

"Sorry, Friend. But I'm mighty closed for the moment." He calmly smiled from the comfy couch he was sitting on, needle in one hand and what looked like an old shirt in the other...Was he sewing? "If you're looking for Jevil, he left around two hours ago for the castle at your request."

"I knowest that!!...*ahem*" He straightened his flushed posture and took a deep breath before releasing it and looking back to Seam in a much calmer manner. "I simply needed directions fromest thee."

Seam hummed again. "And just might where you need directions to? Perhaps I can help, or maybe not. These old patches aren't what they used to be. Hehe."

Rouxls groaned and walked on into the back. Not bothering to ask if he could, and plopped down onto the couch next to him. Head tilted back into the soft cushion, groaning, and one hand reaching up to rub his face. "...Some person byest thine name of Topchef. Jevil toldeth mineself that his establishment was nearest thou."

Seam smiled. "Oh of course. He sometimes stops by and buys all my dark candy stock up if he needs extra or doesn't feel like getting more. Funny man always so dizzy. But why would you want to see him?" Instead of answering. Rouxls's other hand came up and showed him the back of the once long list. Seam had to lean down and tilt his head so his good eye could read the words scribbled down by the duke. Most were random expensive sounding food except for one near the bottem that said 'tennis ball fillet'. ...At least there wasn't any worms or insects written down on here. "Oh. I see." He leaned back into the seat and calmly looked back down to his lap. Resuming the action of sewing the large shiny black coat in his paws. " Am I to assume this is for that fancy get together?"

Another groan. "Yes. Tis thee only thinge I can do since the imbecile tookest over mine entire life...again. And is now running amuke in thine castle causing massive amounts of magical chaos of it!" His hand finally removed itself from his face and he gave Seam a slightly panicked look. "Thine kings couldst d-demotest mineself to thy newest jester if he nay stops his shennanigans!!"

Seam to Rouxls's annoyance chuckled like he had just told him a joke and took a moment to peer over at him. "Well his magic is at it's peak for the moment. It doesn't surprise me he's able to do a lot to help you right now."

"..What art thou spewing now?"

The sewing motions stopped and Seam tilted his head more at him. "You haven't figured it out yet?" Rouxls's scowl answered that question, and he sighed before resuming his work. "Im surprised you haven't noticed it before, but i'll explain. Jevil's magic is based on the emotions he feels and how powerful said emotion is. His eyes changes if also strong enough." The cloak was shifted in his paws and he smiled at him. "The more powerful the emotion the more powerful the magical range."

"...I..see." He blinked. "But how is he doinge so much now? If he canst teleprt why wouldst he not escape sooner?"

He chuckled. "Because he probably never had enough motivation to leave. He made it clear he felt guilt over what had happened, and was sad when you blew his feelings off in the dungeon." Rouxls winced remembering the sorrowful screech Jevil had let off and all the hearts launched everywhere. "Things like sadness, guilt, fear, and worry are the emotions he's least powerful, those can reflect in his eyes as blues, purples, or whites. Now things like happiness and anger are the real ones that fuel the fire.'' Speaking of sire. Said fire crackled in the fireplace infront of them as the Duke stared at the cat. After a few silent moments he continued. "Do you remeber went he went crazy over a hundred years ago before he was subdued?"

He hummed. "V-Vaguely. I was nerely but a silly squire then and evactuated the castle. I nay saw the actual battle.''

"The giant mess he left behind was the result of his anger-"

"It tookest us nearly twenty years to rearrange and furnish the damage."

Rouxls's wide worried eyes made Seam chuckle. "Don't worry too much about making him angry. It's actually almost impossible to make him angry. Sadness is the emotion he usually goes to when upset. So realitivly he's quite harmless. "

"...S-Sureth." He mumbled not looking very convinced.

"But that does beg the question of how powerful he is when love is introduced." Rouxls blinked and stared at him and he chuckled. "Anger manifests as red eyes. Happiness and calm are always a bright sunshine yellow. But never have I seen his eyes turn any shade of pink until he met you. Love is a powerful enotion." The paws went back to sewing the cloak. "And Jevil seems to be at his full power when he's feeling loved. Which makes any competition hard to compete with him. But what he lacks in power and what skills he has, I make up for in patience." His eye crinkled up in a giant smile. "We'll just have to wait and see which one of our talents comes out on top...Oh. And the bakery you seek is just across the Feild of Hopes and Dreams and located by the Rudinn town's entrance."

Rouxls just stared blankly at him and blinked, opening his mouth to speak. Until a small yell made him jump and Seam look up, from the front a purple and grey blur came sliding in before striking a pose and looking at them! .....Seam chuckled and clapped a little and Rouxls just stared at the small bat child. were they wearing-?

"....Tis that J-Jevil's suit?"

"Yes. I wished to help him so I sewed up all the holes I could find in it. But it smelt of old moss, so into the wash it went....Unfortunately-" He gestured to the posing child. "It shrank slightly...So I let them have it since they wanted it so badly."

"...L-Let's hope Jevil nay minds."

[min-hyyun]

The Baby Project

summary: you two were in the same health class, and just as the semester started, you were bombarded with projects. one of them was taking care of a fake baby. because your teacher said that it was a two-person job, you ended up being paired with the school’s shy boy, Guanlin. now, you two are going to have to take care of a robotic baby for a whole month. what could possibly go wrong (or right)?

genre: mostly fluff

a/n: for mae !!!!! aka @daehwifi or admin min (or gorgeous) <3 hope you enjoy this !!!! im sorry its coming out so late past ur bday, school’s a pain :( love ya beautiful MWUAH

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→ “okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say it.” → you looked at the tall boy with confused eyes. → “huh?” → he took a deep breath. → “i want to be partners with you to commit to taking care of a small and helpless together.” → what the heck did he just say????? → SMALL AND HELPLESS. → “you do mean a baby, right?” → he smiled sheepishly and looked down. → “yeah…” → and thats how you and Guanlin became partners for the baby project. → it was a couple days after the project was assigned to you, and you two had received your baby. → there wasn’t much about it that interested you, other than the fact that it was supposed to respond to everything like a normal baby would. → you and Guanlin would be taking the baby to and from school, and meeting up with each other to watch over the baby like “parents”. → on the first day you received it, right away tears had started to come out of its blue eyes. → “oh mY GOD Y/N ITS CRYING” guanlin called out to you frantically. → you immediately walked over to him, who held the baby in his arms rocking it a bit too harshly. → you took the baby from him and rocked it gently. → “dont move too much, it’ll cause the baby to cry more.” → he nodded his head, speaking again. → “what do you wanna name it?” → you never thought about naming the baby, but it seemed like a cool idea. → “hmm.. what about Evelyn? we were given a girl anyway.” → Guanlin smiled brightly. → “I love that name!” → and thats how you two settled on Evelyn. → It was exactly two weeks after you received your baby, and there wasn’t a day you almost threw your head into the wall because of the constant crying and screaming. → today was one of those nights, and Evelyn had just begun to cry again. → it was already very late, and you had tons of work to do for other things in school. → to have Evelyn cry so often while she was with you made you go absolutely to your wits end. → you couldn’t take it anymore, and you were gonna do something about this. → you quickly snatched up your phone from the table beside you, and called Guanlin. → you heard the phone ring until it stopped, the usual monotone service coming on to tell you to leave a message. → you were livid now. → you left a really good message for him that went something like this: → “Lai Guanlin, I’m so close to ripping my hair out of my head and choking you with it. You better answer my call right after this or else the baby isn’t the only bad thing you’ll be getting tomorrow!” you ended the message there, breathing heavily. → clicking on his contact once more, you heard the familiar ringing again. → “answer…” you mumbled. → finally, after what felt like an eternity, his phone picked up. → “Hello?” a strange voice spoke, and you jumped out of your seat. → “Hello? Who is this? Where’s Guanlin?” you asked. → “He’s somewhere,” the voice answered. → “Well tell him to get on the phone, I need to talk to him.” your voice got quiet towards the end of the sentence. → finally, you heard Guanlin’s voice on the other line. → “Guanlin, what the heck! Why didn’t you answer before?” you asked angrily. → “Sorry! I’m at a party right now for the basketball team and we just got our varsity jackets. We had to celebrate!” he happily answered you. → “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Come get Evelyn now. She keeps crying and its making me go mad.” → “I can’t go get her now!” his voice boomed on the line. → “I’m at a party! I can’t take care of her!” his voice became irritated very quickly. → you sighed, and rubbed your temples. → “Okay, whatever.” and hung up on him. → you weren’t going to take his crap tonight. → needless to say, you fell asleep in a bad mood that night. → the next morning, you were even moodier than before. → planning to meet with Guanlin right at the school doors, you stomped up to him and flicked his forehead. → “Stupid!” you continued flicking his forehead, hearing the ‘thump’ become louder and louder. → “Ouch! Stop it! What’s with you today?” he asked, rubbing his forehead with a pained expression. → you noticed that he was wearing his new varsity jacket. → it hugged his frame nicely. → he actually looked REALLY nice in it, but you never said anything. → “What’s with me? What’s with you! I’ve been taking care of Evelyn this whole time and she’s driving me crazy!” → you shoved the baby in his arms, ignoring the constant cries from it. → “You can take her for the week!” after you said that, you sped off, leaving Guanlin with a teary-eyed robot Evelyn. → “Call me if you need anything!”  → throughout the whole day, you had seen Guanlin struggling with the baby, especially during his basketball practice, but you only laughed at him. → “Serves him right.” you snickered, while your friend stared into her phone. → you noticed her look up for a brief second, before her eyes got wide. → “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning your eyes to the direction she was looking in. → “Y/N, the baby’s face down on the ground!” she exclaimed. → with hearing that, you wasted no time in running to the courts. → Jihoon, Guanlin’s close friend, saw you running in their direction immediately tapping him on the shoulder and pointing your way. → you saw him smile at you and wave, before his face quickly turned into a terrified one. → he knew he was in big trouble. → “Lai Guanlin!” you shouted, holding Evelyn and marching up to him. → you showed how angry you were by taking his ear lobe and tugging on it. → “How could you leave Evelyn like that? Mr. Kang can track how we’ve been treating the baby! If he finds out about this you’re so dead.” → and guess what happened next. → “Mr. Kang, we can explain.” → your nervous eyes looked anywhere but at your teacher → “This is supposed to be a partner project, yet you both left your baby on the floor, face down, for thirty minutes. How can you explain that?” he questioned, sighing at the end. → you spoke up quietly. → “We’re sorry Mr. Kang. We won’t do this again.” you felt your teacher’s stare on you. → “I know you won’t. And to make sure of that, you two will be staying after school and cleaning out all the classrooms on the second floor.” → both your mouths dropped open. → “What? Mr. Kang, you can’t do tha-“ Guanlin’s face had gone much darker, and you knew he was frustrated. → “Yes, I can Guanlin. I know you have basketball practice, but the both of you need to learn your lesson. You start today.” → and with that, he stepped out of the classroom, leaving you and Guanlin in a heavy, tense silence. → without saying anything, you left the class as well, completely and utterly irritated at Guanlin and how he could do something so carelessly that would get you in this much trouble. → Guanlin sighed as you left, smacking his forehead and muttering profanities at himself. → later at the end of the day, the two of you met in the first classroom of the second floor, like you were told to do. → Guanlin immediately came up to you and hugged you. → you were shOOK. → it was so sudden ???? → and like you were not ready for this aT ALL ! → “Uh… Guanlin?” you mumbled into his varsity jacket that smelled so much like him. → your heart was pounding so hard, you thought he could hear it. → “I’m sorry for earlier, I should’ve been more careful. Will this and some food later make you forgive me?” he spoke softly, drawing small shapes on your back. → you didn’t know what to say. → “Um, Guanlin… how about we clean?” and that was your icebreaker. → after he hugged you, you instantly knew that you felt something for this shy boy. → you caught yourself thinking too much of him all the time, and laughed when he was happy. → you missed his cologne when he wasn’t around half the time. → all these feelings came rushing into your heart, and you would have continued hugging him right then and there if you didn’t remember the work that was supposed to be done. → you heard Guanlin sigh as you turned around. → Picking up Evelyn, who sat in your arms like any robot, you began to sweep the floors with your other free hand. → you two cleaned the classes in a silence that was thick and full of tension. → it wasn’t until after you both were done, and were walking out of the school’s courtyard, that Guanlin decided to break the ice. → “Y/N, do you want food? I know you’re hungry.” after saying that, Evelyn began crying again and you groaned. → “No thank you, I’m alright. Just take that thing home and take care of it, I’m so tired.” → he nodded, earning a quiet ‘thank you’ from you. → and with that, the two of you parted ways back home. → later during the night, just as you were about to sleep, you got a phone call. → “Huh?” you said, surprised to hear Guanlin’s voice at this time of night. → “Y/N, open the window to your balcony.” he spoke, seemingly out of breath. → you scrunched your face in confusion, getting up out of bed and over to the window where you unlocked and pulled it up. → after about a minute, you saw him climbing through your window with Evelyn and a basket in one hand. → after coming in, he immediately sat down on your floor, motioning you to come beside him. → “what’s all of this?” you asked, wondering as to why he suddenly came to your house with the baby and a bunch of food that he was beginning to take out of the basket. → “I know you weren’t in a good mood earlier, so I’m here to make you forgive me because I know I’m the one at fault.” he started, unwrapping the fruit. → before you could even object to anything, he popped a grape in your mouth. → “And this is my way of confessing to you.” → you choked on the grape. → wHAT ! → “You’re what??” you exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes. → “I like you.” and he quickly pecked your forehead. → you saw his cheeks get pink, and yours did too. → “Wow…” you whispered, giggling. → you felt so happy in this moment. → even Evelyn crying couldn’t kill your joy. → “You’re… forgiven.” chuckling, he ate a strawberry and continued to sport a big smile. → and of course, just as you two were in the heat of your conversation between laughs, Evelyn let out a loud cry. → “Ugh, shut up!” → just a filler: → your relationship began with cute moments, such as him back hugging you. → it also included you and him competing in Wii games, to flick each other in the forehead. → basically, shy boy!guanlin is a really good concept and im sorry this was so bad ilysm mae hope u had a great bday love <3

[cityofnumbersix]

Electric Moment - Chapter 11 - Bonus 2

READ ON AO3

MOTHER POST

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Bonus 2: Return of the Filler

Bonus: After The Drop-Off

Katsuki wasn’t going to lie, returning back to his own apartment after having dropped off Kirishima was kind of a bitch. They lived on completely opposite ends of the city, and trying to make his way around the stations, on and off each last train before it departed was the second most irritating thing he’d had to deal with tonight. He wouldn’t complain though, not when he’d been the one to make the decision in the first place. He knew in the back of his mind that taking Kirishima back to his own stop would mean he’d be rushing around trying to make trains before he was left stranded, but at the time all that had really mattered was making sure the redhead got home so that he didn’t have to deal with Mina’s wrath if the drunken boy got himself into any more trouble than he already had.

And maybe, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’d wanted to partially act on the manners his parents had drilled into him from a young age. “Make sure they get home safe Katsuki” –though ‘they’ at the time had most certainly been ‘she’.

Katsuki was currently pressed back into the warm patch of seat where Kirishima had previously been sitting. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t sat down himself before, maybe it was the fear of being too close to Kirishima, of pressing their legs together, brushing their shoulders, but now that he’d sat down, he relished the relief the action brought to his legs, that he hadn’t realised were quite so tired until now.

Katsuki relaxed into the seat behind him. It was stiff, but the heat that radiated up from it was a comforting contrast to the chill he had felt when the train doors opened upon different platforms, letting in waves of the city’s early morning breeze. He tried his best not to think of Kirishima, he really did, but the harder he tried to fast his mind would flicker back to the bathroom. With his eyes pressed shut in a drowsy fashion, the memories of blood and the feeling of Kirishima’s hard abdomen under his fingers played like a picture show over the back of his lids.

His phone was continuously vibrating in his pocket. He assumed it was probably Kirishima, a reason he’d never allowed the boy to have any more than his Snapchat in the first place –he did suppose a few would probably be his friends though, Ochako, Deku, checking up on him and asking why he’d left without a second word. He’d come up with a lie later, a believable one that didn’t involve pretty red heads and bootleg Marvel Comic attempted rapists, but only once he’d drank some water and gotten some sleep.

The vibrations continued, one after the other, and it got to the point where Katsuki was pulling his phone from the depths of his back pocket, the skim of his fingers along the denim of his jeans being a subtle reminder of how Kirishima’s own fingers had done the same, less than half an hour ago.

When he pulled his phone out, there were a series of different notifications. He was correct about Ochako and Deku, but there were even a few from Mina asking if he’d seen Kirishima, if they were both okay, because no one else had seen them in a while. The rest were indeed, Kirishima and Katsuki absently wondered why the boy had the time to spam the shit out of Katsuki, but couldn’t take two seconds to let his own best friend know that he was alive and well.

The notifications from Kirishima varied, at first they were just Line messages, simple drunken things like:

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: omg I just saw Ms Nakamura from next doors cat run into the alleyway behind her house.

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: Do u think it will get mad if I try to touch it?

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: Im not sure where this alleyway goes tho

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: omg BakuBro I see the cat

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: omg I’m going to send u a picture

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: nvm she ran away

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: omg Im 2 drunk for this

Something jumped from within Katsuki’s chest, and he swore it wasn’t his heart. It wasn’t his place to take care of Kirishima, nor was it his responsibility to worry about whether the guy was running around intoxicated through alleyways that he didn’t recognise, but still. A part of him had wished he’d picked up his phone sooner, so that he could tell Kirishima that those actions were most defineantly not a good idea.

He also did too, almost swapped out his Line app for the phone one. Considered hitting Kirishima’s number, dialing him just to make sure the idiot hadn’t gotten himself killed. That was until he read on.

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: Ok im out of the alley

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: that was super exciting

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: like an adventure

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: lets go on an adventure one day dude

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: ok im home

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: I hope ur almost home 2

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: u should reply to me soon so that I kno

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: safety is important

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: u should always have a train buddy

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: thats wat mama says

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: thx for being mine

Katsuki shook his head as he peered down at the messages that littered his screen. He may have even laughed a little, drawing the attention of another passenger, the only other one who was on the train. They peaked up at him, and Katsuki glared, shooting them down and snickering proudly to himself as the guy let his own eyes drop.

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: Omg

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: omg

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: holy fuck

(LINE) <3 Kirishima <3: im gonna show u something on snap

(Snapchat) New Snap from Red Riot

(Snapchat) New Snap from Red Riot

(Snapchat) New Snap from Red Riot

Katsuki blinked down at his device. The screen was glowing brightly, illuminating his face and making his eyes hurt just enough that it was irritating. There was something within him that began to rumble. He wasn’t sure what it was that Kirishima wanted to show him, but for some reason the possibilities were turning his stomach into a mess. He didn’t understand why. It was probably just something dumb like another cat, or a some other strange, yet completely mundane thing like that. Looking back at it, he should have trusted his gutt, shouldn’t have opened the pictures in public, even if his only other company was some tired looking dude who was probably now far too afraid to look up.

When he opened Kirishima’s snapchat messages, he was bombarded with three –for once brief, pictures of Kirishima. The first one was of his face as a whole. His eye was more swollen now, and had started to take on the deep purple colour of an eggplant. It looked painful, even though the screen of Katsuki’s phone. The next picture was still of his eye, but it was up much closer this time, and Katsuki could see the way the skin was risen high against the phone, the red tinted edges of the forming bruise.

“Fucking intense.” Was the caption on both of them.

It was the next picture though, that caught Katsuki off guard, sent his body into hyper drive and may have even caused a temporary outer body experience to occur.

It was another picture of Kirishima, but this time it was of him standing in front of a full length mirror. He was in what Katsuki assumed to be his bedroom. He could see the set of bunkbeds in the rear of the photo, the mess of what he assumed was clothing and other items that littered the floor. A mess presumably belonging to both Kirishima and Kaminari.

In the picture, Kirishima’s shirt was most probably amongst that mess, because it was no longer present upon his body. His torso, chest, and broad arms were on display, the phone held up above his face and flash shielding what would have been the outline of his head, and his hair. Kirishima’s pants sat loose and low on his waist, unbuttoned and held up only by his underwear and thighs.

That’s when Bakugou saw them, four finger-point bruises lining the area beneath Kirishima’s navel. They too, had begun to turn purple, but were still red around their perimeter. Fresh, new, and Katsuki knew almost immediately where they had come from.

“These ones are my favourite tho” the caption read, and everything Katsuki was currently feeling went straight to his groin.

Katsuki ghosted the ends of his own fingers along there area of his own body where Kirishima’s bruises lay. He dusted his touch over his own abdomen, eyes staring down at the screen of his phone as the photo ticked away, before disappearing completely. Katsuki had done that, he knew it for certain. It was when he was panicked, when he had Kirishima pressed up against him behind the vending machine at the train station. He’d known at the time that his touch had been too rough, but he’d been more concerned with making sure that Kirishima didn’t accidentally give away their position, that his wrists had become ridged, and he’d been unable to let up.

Katsuki wasn’t sure what to say now. He had both his hands on his phone, thumbs typing out a multitude of different responses. Anything that he could think of in response to the pictures. Kirishima had sent them to him, he’d wanted Katsuki to see them, and Kirishima knew that Katsuki knew it had been him to inflict those marks. He didn’t know how to respond however, what to say. He typed out apologies, jokes, rants, but nothing stuck, nothing felt right. So he simply types out:

BakuBae: That’s what you get for being such a loudmouth. Had to shut you up somehow.

Katsuki’s mind was still reeling. A part of him hoped that Kirishima had already passed out, surcome to his drunken body and fallen into a deep sleep where he wouldn’t see Katsuki’s reply until morning. Katsuki hadn’t even had the chance to lock his phone though, when his Snapchat began to flicker beside Kirishima’s name.

Red Riot is typing…

Red Riot: Kinda takes a lot more than that to shut me up

Red Riot: tho im not complaining

Red Riot: strong string fingers u hav there

Red Riot: bet they’re good for more than just guitar

Surely this wasn’t happening. Katsuki was far too drunk. Maybe none of this had really happened at all. Obviously he was already home, drunk, deep in sleep and having some kind of toxically realistic wet dream, because he’d been too drunk to actually release his frustrations before sleeping. There was no way that Kirishima was flirting with him, this wasn’t flirting. This wasn’t suggestive flirting directly after Kirishima had sent Katsuki a shirtless picture. Things like this just didn’t happen.

BakuBae

Just how fucking drunk are you?

Katsuki typed out with shaking fingers, positioned the text over a quick snapshot of the train floor. He glanced up over his lashes for a moment, making sure the guy at the other end of the train was still preoccupied with his own device, replying to his own messages, or playing some stupid game against the surface of the touch screen.

He knew he didn’t really have any reason to be nervous. From the outside, he probably just appeared to be having a normal conversation with someone on his phone. No one could tell that he had just been sent a couple of suggestive messages from his drunken band mate, his drunken band mate who was exceptionally attractive, and who may or may not have been the subject of Katsuki’s thoughts for weeks now.

The reply didn’t come straight away. For a while, Katsuki actually believed that this time Kirishima had actually passed out –that whatever situation that had just been arising, had also passed with the closing of his eyes. But then his screen lit up in his grip, and Katsuki, with his leg jumping up and down, free hand tugging at the tight fabric of his jeans, didn’t even hesitate to open the notification.

Red Riot

It was another picture of Kirishima’s abdomen, but this time it wasn’t in a mirror. Kirishima was presumably laying down, the edges of his hips fallen shallowly into the depths of what appeared to be a blanket. He was in his bed, and he still didn’t have his shirt on. The picture was closer this time, and Katsuki could clearly see the intensity of the bruises he’s made on Kirishima’s skin. There too, was the navel piercing that had driven Katsuki insane the few times Kirishima had decided to show it off, but now it was on full display in the picture, glimmering under the flash of Kirishima’s camera.

“Hardly” It was captioned, and Katsuki swore he was ten seconds away from blacking out.

Katsuki run his hand along the length of his own thigh, eyes peering down at the slight tent that now edged along his thigh. It was embarrassing, but he had been drinking, and it’s not like it was something that he could control. Plus, Kirishima was totally, like, saying all this with purpose right? Even someone like Bakugou could see that, but his brain was a mess of so many things. So much had already happened tonight -his first concert, Deku’s dumb boyfriend, being attacked, Kirishima saving him from being attacked. It wasn’t Katsuki’s fault he was reacting this way, if anything; it was completely unavoidable in every sense. There were a lot of emotions there, and a pretty boy flaunting himself all over his screen. What’s a guy to do in this kind of situation?

BakuBae:

You’re drunk, idiot

It wasn’t what he wanted to say. If anything Katsuki really wished he could indulge himself right now. It had been so long since he’d let himself have that, to let himself crave another person and let go of all the tension he built up inside himself for sport. He wanted to give Kirishima the responses he probably expected, but he was raised better than that. Plus, he didn’t want to start something he knew Kirishima probably wouldn’t want to finish. They were the same age, but Kirishima seemed younger in some ways, more curious, less experienced. It would make sense, with the way both Mina and Kyoka seemed to want to protect him from almost anything, from Bakugou especially. Maybe there was something they knew that he didn’t.

Red Riot is typing…

Red Riot: u don’t have to do anything

Red Riot: if you don’t want to

Red Riot: but I kinda do

Red Riot: idk

Red Riot: maybe it’s the adrenaline from hittin that guy

Red Riot: but ur really hot

Red Riot: u probably kno that tho

Red Riot

The next notification to pop up was a picture, and Katsuki allowed himself a few seconds to breath as he considered whether it would be a good idea to open it. There were so many things that could go wrong with this situation. Suddenly, every warning that Jirou had given him previously, all started to come together and make a whole lot of fucking sense. This guy, Kirishima, he was really hard to say no too, so fucking hard to resist.

Katsuki tapped his screen, watched as another picture of Kirishima’s abdomen came up on the screen. Same angle, same bruise, same piercing, but Kirishima’s jeans were nowhere in sight now. Maybe they were on the floor, or maybe they were pooled around his knees or ankles. It was really hard to tell from just a picture. Katsuki kind of wanted to ask, but at the same time there was no way he was going to let himself buy into this. No way was he going to allow Kirishima to realise how very weak he already was for him. Katsuki was stone, solid and jagged, holding in an intense inferno that no other human would ever be able to control.

The picture faded from view.

Red Riot: Im gonna take ur silence as a yes

Red Riot: b cur silences always seem to mean yes

Red Riot: I like that about u y’know

Red Riot: u don’t hav to say things

Red Riot: bc people listen anyways

Katsuki gaped down at his screen, head reeling as he attempted to process Kirishima’s words. Was this what sexting was to guys like him? Polite compliments and rambles scattered with teasing pictures of his highly worked body and killer abdominal muscles? He wouldn’t be the least bit surprised, it was Kirishima after all.

BakuBae: Im on the train dumbass

It was meant to be a warning, a kind of “You don’t have to do this, you shouldn’t do this”, but it ultimately failed, because Kirishima sent through a series of messages anyway, followed by a picture than Katsuki was yet to work up the courage to open.

Red Riot: Thats ok

Red Riot: u don’t have to do anything

Red Riot: I mean like

Red Riot: it would be cool if u did

Red Riot: bc then at least I kno im doing it rite

Red Riot

Another picture of Kirishima lit up Katsuki’s screen, and this time, almost as immediately as he looked at it, Katsuki felt himself instantly tilting his phone in a direction that he knew would protect it from any wandering eyes. Mostly because, this time, the picture was less of Kirishima’s chest and abdomen, and more of the length of his toned thighs, spread wide against what Katsuki certainly knew now was his bed. Kirishima laid there in only his boxers and on closer inspection, Katsuki could quite easily tell that he was at least semi-hard beneath them. Kirishima’s hand –the one that wasn’t handling his phone, had its thumb looped in the hem of them, pushing them down his hip on one side.

If Katsuki wasn’t hard before, he most definitely was now. He tried to hold back any visible response other than that from his body, however. He kept his face stiff, but casual. He never once looked up from his phone –he didn’t want to seem like he was on the lookout for wandering eyes, though this was insanely difficult, because all he really wanted to do was be on the lookout for wandering eyes.

Kirishima was either nervous, or really eager, because no long after Katsuki had opened his most recent picture, another one was already there, ready to be opened. Katsuki didn’t want to keep him waiting. He didn’t want to make Kirishima feel insecure, even if he really should have been stopping Kirishima from doing this in the first place.

Red Riot

The next picture was a little different. Kirishima’s boxers still tilted to one side from where he had tugged them down in the last picture, but this time the angle had changed once more and Katsuki was peering up and over Kirishima’s body. He could see the rise of the boy’s boxers where his member sat hard, flush beneath their grip, and Kirishima’s hand was up near his face, fingers teasing his mouth, cheeks pink and blotchy with presumably intoxication and arousal. He looked good, insanely good, with his biceps bulging and hair let loose from its previous tie –allowing for it to fall and frame Kirishima’s face.

Red Riot: I was attracted to u from the first time I saw u

Red Riot: but u could probably tell

Red Riot: thats y I got ur snapchat from mina

Red Riot: I was kinda pissy she kept u to herself

Red Riot: pls forget I said any of this in the morning

Red Riot: I kno its super embarassinf

Red Riot: its just ur really great

Red Riot

Kirishima followed his ramblings with yet another picture of himself. This one had Katsuki choking on air, gasping as he inhaled a mixture of oxygen and his own embarrassment. The guy up the other end of the car twitched when he did, looking up, only to be shot down by another one of Katsuki’s murderous glares. He wasn’t sure how much of an insidious affect it probably had, with his face assumed to be as bright as a tomato and his back hunched in order to shield his progressive issue in his pants. Maybe he would just look really drunk.

The picture, as it were, was far more provocative than any of the ones before it. Kirishima was sitting up now, propped against a wall, underwear pushed halfway down his legs, his length in his hand. He held the phone above his head, an aerial view of his entire form. His thumb was teasing over the head of his dick, and Katsuki couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if it was his own hand in its place. How would Kirishima react, what would he sound like? He’d make him feel good; he knew that for a fact. He’d work his way over Kirishima’s body, finding every single place that made the redhead twitch; anywhere spot that could potentially make the younger boy dissolve.

Katsuki may not seem it from the outside, but he took pride in the way he cared for his lovers.

Katsuki was sunk deep into this phone, so far that he didn’t even notice when the next thing that came through on his app wasn’t actually a picture, but a video. He didn’t even consider the consequences when he immediately pressed it, the sound of Kirishima’s voice radiating out into the once quiet air of the train carriage.

“Bakugou…” Kirishima’s voice whined out through his phones speaker, causing Katsuki to flail his hands, dropping the device to the floor in front of him, and if he’d been doing a good job at concealing what he’d been up to until this point, he wasn’t anymore.

Everything around him appeared to go still in that moment. Katsuki could do nothing but sit there, in shock, staring down at the backside of his phone, its screen still lit and washing the edges of itself in its own light. He didn’t know if his fellow passenger was watching, but he probably was. There was no way he’d missed that in what had been one of the deadest silences in the history of silences.

Katsuki drew in a breath alongside the sound of the train’s automated announcement providing him with the necessary information that this next stop, would be his. He was grateful for it, because no matter how much stone Katsuki built around himself, there was absolutely no fucking way he was going to be able to continue sitting in this train car with that stranger after he’d just played Kirishima’s sex driven voice out loud like a symphony.

Katsuki scooped his phone up from the surface of the floor, just as the train began to shudder to a standstill. He gripped the device tightly within his fingers; eyes flickering up to knowingly meet the gaze of the man downwind from him, who watched him curiously, knowingly. Katsuki could do nothing but attempt to put up his wall. He smirk, smug and deep like it didn’t matter to him in the slightest if this guy knew what he’d been doing. He even made a show of it, adjusting himself in his pants so that it would be more comfortable for him to walk, not bothering to be subtle in any way.

Once he was off the train, that’s when he let himself breathe for the first time since Kirishima’s corpulent moan of his name had hit his ears. It was colder outside than he’d anticipated, and the chill from upon the platform was almost enough to cool the head of his skin, wind hitting his flushed face, neck and arms. Everything within him burned, with want, with desire.

He gazed back down at his phone, screen blinking as it vibrated repeatedly within his grasp.

Red Riot: uh so like was that too much??

Red Riot: I don’t kno ive never done this before

Red Riot: I dunno I just thought it might be hot for u to hear

Red Riot: do u think so???

Red Riot: oh shit

Red Riot: fuck I think someones hoem

Red Riot: ive gotta go

Red Riot: thx for like

Red Riot: letting me do that

Red Riot: yeah

Red Riot: don’t forget to call me in the morning!

Red Riot: I cant wait to hear ur voice ;)

Red Riot: be safe!

Red Riot: gn

Katsuki hovered in his place for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. It was dead cold outside, and he was in nothing but a pair of jeans and a t-shirt –his jacket still being with Kirishima, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He just stood, staring down at his phone, the messages from Kirishima, the memories of what had just occurred running races around his brain. He wasn’t much sure how he was supposed to react, but Kirishima seemed to feel casual about it, so maybe that was a start.

Kirishima had also said that Katsuki should forget this in the morning, pretend like it had never happened. Katsuki was good at that, acting like nothing had occurred, even when it was something near impossible to forget. He told himself that he’d do that. That he’d follow Kirishima’s wishes, and he wouldn’t bring it up. He told himself it was for Kirishima’s sake, but somewhere deep down, what he was really choosing to do was to protect himself.

With nibble fingers, and a few taps across the cold glass of his phone screen, Katsuki types out a final few messages.

BakuBae: its fine Shitty-Hair

BakuBae: gn

And that was that.    

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[kuriquinn]

Prompt/Request: Cute Sarada&Sasuke Bonding

Anonymous said:

for your Friday fic request would you consider doing something baby/toddler sarada and sasuke related (or the whole family). Maybe something funny or cute. Im always a sucker for a story with sasuke and baby sarada

General Disclaimer

Russian Version

“Papa! Story!”

Sasuke pauses in the act of extinguishing the light in his daughter’s room, and glances back over his shoulder. His four-year-old daughter glowers expectantly at him from her bed, all three feet of her ramrod straight. One arm clutches an old and well-loved stuffed dinosaur, while the other is bent on her hip in a pose eerily reminiscent of her mother. The expression on her face is even more so, and although he finds the whole effect amusing, the toddler isn’t the know that.

“Is that a reminder or a demand?” he asks her quietly. “Either way, there’s a better way to say it.”

Her nose wrinkles for a moment, but then she adopts a penitent look and amends, “Papa, you forgot the story. May you please tell me one?”

She speaks slowly and with careful diction, just as he has taught her.

Her vocabulary’s getting better, even if her grasp of grammar is a little lacking.

Sakura is more lenient when it comes to their daughter’s burgeoning conversational skills (“Sasuke, every child has a lisp at some point, she’s not gearing up to address the Five Shinobi Nations or anything!”), but he is adamant any child of his is going to know how to speak properly.

He maintains that this has nothing to do with Naruto’s son starting to talk a full month before Sarada.

Not that he really has to worry. It’s already evident that his daughter is a precocious child, more so than her agemates excepting, perhaps, of Shikamaru’s kid. Luckily, given her parentage, laziness will not be something Sarada is plagued by. Sasuke is restless and ambitious by nature, and Sakura a force to be reckoned with.

The latter is one of the reasons why his wife is still at the hospital right now, managing some emergency or other that he knows he would never have the patience to contend with. As such, Sasuke has been left to fend for himself and Sarada until she returns.

Not that this is a hardship.

Fatherhood suits Sasuke, more than he ever expected. Every day that he spends with Sarada is a day where he gets watch her discover something new, to see the world through eyes that are untarnished by pain or suffering. It’s an innocence he can’t remember ever having, and one he will drive himself to the ends of sanity to protect

He has never loved anyone in his life as much as he loves his daughter. It’s a different emotion than what he feels for his wife, something primal and evolutionary, and which he can’t even begin to articulate. It fills him every time he looks at Sarada, and almost manages to overwhelm the memories of hollowness and hatred.

“Papa?” His daughter has clearly exercised her patience waiting for his response, drawing him out of his musing and back to the present. “Mama always does stories.”

As if he hasn’t sat with the two of them every night and listened to those stories.

“Which one do you want?” he asks, moving back across the room. “‘The Fisherman and the Maiden’? Or ‘The Red Swordmaster’?”

She’s been obsessed with that one for weeks.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“A new story,” she tells him matter-of-factly, jumping from standing to sitting and settling her dinosaur on her lap, as if he too intends to listen. “A Papa story, okay?”

“I don’t know any stories,” he states simply.

Sarada is not impressed with this answer and screws up her face, arms crossed. This particular look of hers is not reminiscent of Sakura, and he can only surmise it comes from his genes. If that’s the case, he might understand now why so many girls were drawn to him as a child, because even annoyed, Sarada looks adorable.

Not a word I ever thought I would use.

Nor is it something he ever expected would make him weaken his resolve.

“Let’s see,” he sighs.

He doesn’t like to fail, especially in front of his own daughter, but he is no raconteur. Most stories he’s heard are either utterly dull or not for children. The fables his mother told him when he was young have already been told from Sarada’s infancy, and as for the ones he’s lived himself…

Well, only one of those ended well, and it’s far too long and too complicated a tale for a four-year-old girl.

Although…

He supposes when it comes to the long and the complicated, it’s never too early to lay foundations.

He sits down cross-legged on the bed. Sarada wastes no time worming her way into his lap and settling against him, pressing close to his chest, her ear against his heart. Sasuke automatically brings his arm around to secure her, even though she’s in no danger.

“Long ago, long ago,” he starts, the way Sakura always begins her stories, “there was a very wise man. He was cleverer than any other in the land. People came to him from far and wide to learn, for he was a respected teacher.”

Sarada jerks upright, nearly dashing her head against Sasuke’s chin to demand, “Like Uncle ‘Kashi?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes.

Sarada’s hero-worship of his former sensei irritates him somewhat. She has declared several times that she intends to marry him when she grows up, something the Sixth Hokage is wise enough to chuckle off while quickly making himself scarce.

“No. Much more dignified than Kakashi.”

“Well…Well, like Grandfather?”

“Perhaps if he didn’t crack so many poor jokes.”

“No, not Grandpa,” she insists. “Grandfather. Your papa.”

Sasuke stills at this. He doesn’t mention his family very often, but Sarada is at the age where she’s beginning to recognise patterns and ask questions. Her maternal grandparents are a big part of her life, and she has come to understand their relation to her through Sakura. She also knows that Sasuke’s parents are dead, but has yet to truly ask questions about them.

He supposes he should have expected this, but in truth, he isn’t ready for it.

“What do you know about him?” Sasuke deflects, trying to determine just what he is in for tonight.

“Well, Uncle ‘Kashi said he meeted him when he was small and he said he looked mad a lot and he said he didn’t smile a lot and…and he said that’s why you don’t smile a lot, but I don’t think it’s true, Papa, ‘cos you smile lots.”

It would have to be Kakashi, of course. Neither Naruto or Sakura ever met his parents, so they wouldn’t be a wealth of information when it comes to them.

“And what else did Kakashi tell you about your grandfather.”

“I don’t know. Uncle ‘Kashi said he only talked to him sometimes. But if it was just sometimes, how come he said that?” she wonders, puzzling out the inconsistency like she didn’t think about it until now. “Papa, was Grandfather mad a lot?”

“No,” Sasuke responds quietly. “But he was responsible for many people, and sometimes that made it hard to approach him.”

“Oh. Okay.” She pauses to consider this, and then questions, “Why?”

“Sarada, do you want a story tonight or not?”

Because he is not in the frame of mind just yet to speak about his family, least of all his father, even in the safe, familiar space of his daughter’s room.

“Yes, the story!”

“Very well,” Sasuke continues. “Because the wise man was –”

“What’s his name?”

“Sarada…”

“Papa! Mama always says the names.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to do it differently from your mother,” he accedes solemnly, mouth twitching slightly at the absolute scandal that might cause. He pauses for a moment, trying to decide exactly what direction he wants to take this in, and eventually continues. “His name was Hagoromo.”

“Hah! That’s a funny name.”

“So is Sarada.”

“Papa!” she protests with a giggle. “Then why’d you call me it?”

“Because Boruto was taken.”

“Nuh-uh! Mama said you named me after her and you and Uncle Itachi and that’s why you called me it.”

“So we did.”

“But how come?”

“So that no matter where you go in the world, you will always be connected to your family,” he answers, which is both the simplest explanation and one she is old enough to understand.

“Oh. Okay. So did the Hugomomo man have a family too?”

“Ha-go-ro-mo.”

“Ha-go-ro-mo. Did he have a family too?”

“No. His parents had died a long time before, and his brother had gone far away.”

“Why?”

“Because he had a very important job to do.”

“But then the Hagoromo was lonely.”

“Perhaps at first. Not forever, though. As I said, he was a wise teacher, and after –”

“What’d he teach?”

Sasuke shoots his daughter a mildly irritated look at the constant interruptions peppering his tale, but when she gazes up at him in genuine curiosity he relents.

“He taught ninshu, which is what people had before ninjutsu existed. He was known all throughout the land, his students travelling from far and wide. They came from beyond the Land of the Ancestors to speak with him, and learn from his wisdom. It did not take long before he was surrounded by the most faithful of disciples.”

“This story is kinda boring, Papa.”

“I could always stop.”

“No!”

Sasuke smirks and continues.

“Eventually Hagoromo married, and had two sons, before his wife died in childbirth.”

“What’s childbirth?”

“When a woman has a baby.”

“Oh. But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she die?”

“Because sometimes it’s dangerous.”

“When Mama childbirthed me, was it dangerous?”

“When your mother ‘gave birth’ to you, not ‘childbirthed’.”

“When she gave birth. Was Mama okay?”

Sasuke thinks back to that nerve-wracking experience, his eyes hardening, and says, “Yes. Your mother is strong.”

“But the Hagoromo’s wife wasn’t?”

“She was. But sometimes that isn’t enough.”

“Well why didn’t a medic-nin like Mama saved her?”

“There weren’t any at the time. Even the healers they did have back then didn’t know everything your mother knows.”

“So her body stopped working,” Sarada determines.

She has a vague understanding of death, slightly more comprehensive than the average toddler. Given the history of her family, Sasuke and Sakura chose very early on to answer her as honestly as possible. Which naturally led to a discussion about why she only had one set of grandparents or why she could never meet her uncle. Thankfully Sakura fielded those difficult questions, offering both a comforting and practical explanation that Sasuke doesn’t think he would have been able to handle.

In many ways, his wife is much stronger than he is.

“Yes,” Sasuke confirms. “Hagoromo’s two sons –” Sarada shoots him an expectant look and he sighs, adding, “Indra and Asura,”, which causes her to beam in approval before he continues, “were both healthy and strong. They watched out for one another as brothers should –”

“Like Uncle Itachi and you?”

“… Yes.”

It’s the shortest answer to a long and complicated story he may never tell her in its entirety.

“Papa, why don’t I have a brother?”

“Ask your mother.”

“Mama said ask you.”

“Of course she did.”

“So why don’t I?”

“That’s a question for another day.”

“Well I think I should have a brother. Or a sister. Boruto just got Himawari. It’s not fair.”

“Life is often unfair.”

Sarada pouts at this, crossing her arms across her chest. Sasuke chooses to continue the story in order to detract from a possible on-coming tantrum. Sarada isn’t a particularly spoiled child, but she has her moments, and often over ridiculous matters. Sakura nearly burst a rib trying not to laugh that morning when Sarada had a complete meltdown over a ladybug landing on her nose.

“The two brothers grew up together, the best of friends even though they were very different. Indra was a prodigy who learned his father’s teachings with ease, while Asura had more difficulty. He had a kind heart, however, and made up for his weaknesses with endless determination.”

“Like Uncle Naruto!”

“…Yes. It was because of this determination to succeed, and because his heart was open to others, that Hagoromo decided that Asura should inherit his teachings one day,” Sasuke tells her, carefully editing out the specifics of the story. “This made Indra angry, because he thought he should inherit the teachings.”

“Why?”

“Because he was more powerful.”

“No, why did the Hagoromo want only one of them to teach? Mama and Auntie Ino always say you have to share. He should have made them share.”

Sasuke’s mouth tugs upward here, amused that this tiny girl can see a logic that most adults can’t. “Perhaps the old sage was not as wise as you.”

Sarada beams at the compliment.

“In any case, Indra and Asura fought about it.”

“Did Indra beat Asura?”

“No. He was defeated by his brother.”

“But he was strong! Why’d he lose?”

“Because power is not the only quality a true warrior needs,” Sasuke lectures her. “Through his determination to succeed in the face of failure, and to protect his loved ones, Asura became the strongest. Indra had never truly understood what it meant to care for someone, and want to protect them.”

“So…he lost?”

“Yes.”

“And…and then what happened? Did Asura kill him?” Sarada’s voice trembles as she asks the question, the very idea seeming to perturb her.

“No. Indra was wounded in the battle, and used the last of his strength to bring himself far away from Asura and his father. He found himself lying on a shore in a distant land, weakened and unable to heal himself. It seemed, for a time, that he was meant to die.”

Sarada’s cat-like eyes become round. “Did he die, Papa?”

“No. He was found one day by a very young girl with a kind heart, who took pity on him.”

“What was her name?” Sarada demands, barely waiting for him to finish the sentence.

Sasuke is simultaneously annoyed and amused by his daughter’s detail-oriented nature. “Shachi.”

“Was she pretty?”

Sasuke sighs again.

Of course, a four-year-old girl needs to know what the heroine of the story looks like. Both he and Sakura have tried since Sarada’s birth to praise intelligence over physical beauty, but there’s just something about aesthetics that appeals to young girls.

“I suppose so.”

“What did she look like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Like Mama?”

“Sure,” he allows, not concerned with whether that’s true or not. He knows it’s the only way she’ll let him continue. Anyone else in the world and he would have gotten up and left already, but he wouldn’t give up spending time with his daughter for anything. And it heartens him that she is so intent on establishing facts; the skill will serve her well when she gets older.

“Okay,” she declares decisively, and makes a magnanimous gesture that he continue. He thinks she’s been watching Kakashi too often. Honestly, the man didn’t even want to be Hokage, but he plays the role well. Then, she suddenly, Sarada sits up straighter again. “Oh! Papa, were they going to fall in love? You said Indra never loved anyone, and then he was saveded by Shachi and maybe he liked her because she helped him and so he could learn to care and then he’d be able to go back home and be friends with Asura again!”

Her eyes shine with the triumph of someone who has just figured out the answer to a difficult question. Sasuke knows in the world of fairy tales, that’s how the story would end. However, it’s important that Sarada learn that the expected outcome is not always guaranteed.

“It is true that over time she grew to care deeply for Indra,” Sasuke allows slowly, “and although he didn’t admit it, he had feelings for her in return.”

“Why didn’t he say so?” Sarada demands, indignant.

“Although Indra was learning to care…he also continued to desire power. He worried that if anyone knew who he cared for, they might use it against him. He couldn’t allow for that kind of weakness.”

“That’s silly.”

“It is,” Sasuke agrees, knowing that his hard-won lesson is something that Sarada has always inherently understood.

“Did they get married?”

“Yes, they did.”

“Then they must have had babies and lived happily ever after,” Sarada concludes. “Like you and Mama.”

Life is so very simple at her age.

“…They were content for many years,” Sasuke says after a pause, deciding that tonight is not the night to tell her how the story really ends. “They had children, and Indra’s followers grew in number to spread his teachings. One day, those teachings would become ninjutsu.”

“Like what you and Mama can do!”

“Yes.”

“Can I learn ninjutsu too?”

“One day, when you’re older.”

“I’ll be older tomorrow, Papa,” Sarada tells him earnestly. “Can I learn ninjutsu tomorrow?”

“It takes many years to learn ninjutsu,” Sasuke says. “And only by people who are very well-rested – which means you have to go to sleep now.”

“Okay!” she chirps. “And then you’ll teach me?”

“If you want me to,” he says, pulling back the sheets on her bed and allowing her to settle back in.

“I want you to!” she insists. “I need to be strong too so I can protect you and Mama and Uncle Kashi and Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie Ino and Inojin and Uncle Naruto and…and everyone!”

“Hm.” He leans over to brush his lips against her forehead. “Sleep well.”

He straightens up and prepares to leave, but then she cries, “Papa! You forgot!”

When he turns around, she is holding out the stuffed dinosaur, a plaintiff look on her face. He sighs – he still feels slightly ridiculous doing this, and thank the gods Naruto doesn’t know about it – bends over and pretends to kiss the stuffed animal as well.

Satisfied, Sarada burrows back under her covers with the toy. “Good night, Papa, I love you.”

“… I love you, too,” he responds.

He adjusts her blankets one last time to ensure they’re not covering her head – she has Sakura’s tendency to turn herself into a giant cocoon – and shuts off the light.

On his way out of the bedroom, Sasuke passes the silent listener that has been lurking out in the hallway since about halfway through his tale.

“That’s not the story I remember being told in school,” Sakura says, a wry smile on her face.

“Well, they don’t know the actual version, do they?” he counters matter-of-factly.

“Maybe we should have them change it.”

“That might be a problem. Changing history usually requires sources. I doubt they’ll accept “because I lived it” as justification.”

Sakura chuckles again, and he follows her to the kitchen. “What happened to just telling her ‘The Red Swordmaster’ again?”

“She wanted a ‘Papa Story’.”

“You know that she meant you-you. Not past-self-you.”

“It still fits the parameters. If she wanted something different, she’ll have to learn to be more specific,” he replies lightly. “As it is, she didn’t seem disappointed.”

“You shouldn’t be lawyering your own daughter.”

“How else will she learn?”

Sakura rolls her eyes, reaching into the cupboard for the small flask of sake they keep there; some evenings she enjoys a nightcap, and rather than make her drink alone, Sasuke partakes as well. Only a sip or two, however; of his many strengths, tolerance to alcohol is not one of them.

They sit together in companionable silence for a few moments.

“… Why tell her that story?” Sakura asks quietly after a time. “She has so many books…”

“She was tired of them,” he answers. “It’s the shortest, least complicated story that I know.”

“But…that one is so…” she hesitates, and then concludes, “sad.”

“I suppose it depends on where you end it,” Sasuke remarks, gazing down at her meaningfully. It takes her a beat to follow his logic, and then colour spreads delicately across her cheeks.

“You’re getting better at that,” she grumbles.

“At what?”

“Saying the right thing…”

“And that’s bad?”

“No. It’s dangerous,” she tells him, still tellingly red in the face.

“How?”

But she waves him away, lifting her cup to her lips again.

“Sarada asked me something interesting earlier,” Sasuke says casually, and then waits an extra beat, just long enough for Sakura to get a descent mouthful of her sake. “She was wondering why she doesn’t have a brother or a sister. That’s something we should work on, isn’t it?”

The sake ends up on the floor, and judging by the gasping-splutter, completely down the wrong tube in Sakura’s throat.

Sasuke smirks.

終わり

This kind of fulfils both a prompt and my contribution to Sarada’s birthday ^_^ I tried to keep Sarada’s speaking ability age-appropriate, but keep in mind she’s pretty precocious. I remember (and have been told) that I had a very advanced vocabulary and understanding of the world at around four years old, which I can see her having too. Full sentences and ten-dollar-words and all! Also,  I abhor using baby talk for kids in a story if I don’t have to. It’s just a pet-peeve of mine!

Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated!

クリ

[vulture-jack]

I think my problem with not enjoying puzzle games is that I dont get a sense of accomplishment out of figuring out a puzzle.  

I get a sense of inferiority when I struggle with or CANT figure it out.

Long ass elaboration that got way to deep and a little A LOT to self-analysis…y below the cut.  

Solving a puzzle in a puzzle game feels like something im SUPPOSED to be able to do because SEEMINGLY everyone else can, if the game was THAT hard no one would buy it or praise it or recommend it because two few people would be able to beat it and have the full experience, so I’m just stressed and constantly feel like my intelligence is coming into question if I can’t get through it?  If everyone else can get through it, and I can’t, what does that say about me? Fucking EVERYONE has beat Portal. Except me. And no one even really talks about how HARD Portal is.  Except for me. So puzzle games tend to make me feel like shit.  For a number of reasons, I tend to just. Give up. A lack of motivation, getting no joy out of the puzzle aspect and seeing it as a chore, it not being the way I typically enjoy exercising my thinking muscles, etc etc.

 And even if I CAN beat those puzzles, its a stressful as fuck experience through the whole damn thing. Like taking a standardized test.  Even though thats not the case?  I feel like I’m being tested and I hate taking tests because I don’t celebrate good grades so much as feel they are expected of me.  If I do poorly or even “average” C level I feel like a failure.  The negative emotions I got from low grades WAY overpowered any positive emotions I got from good grades. Good grades = relief that I didnt get a bad grade and i didnt ruin my future and my parents wont get mad at me.  And this same feelings accompanies puzzle games.  If I CANT do it, then I feel like shit about myself and get a nice helping of lowered self confidence and heightened insecurity.  If I DO do it, then its nothing to celebrate because its part of the game, everyone who plays this is supposed to be able to do this. Tons of people already did this.  Its not really an accomplishment to me.  I know this is a flawed way of looking at things, but every time I encounter puzzle games or people recommending puzzle games to me because “No but this ones really good!” Im like…it doesn’t matter.  

Every time I hear someone talk about the sense of accomplishment they get while playing puzzle games I’m like “God I wish that were me”.

And if you want to comment on this like “No you should finish X its really good!” Im going to get mad at you. I won’t say I’m mad at you, I won’t ACT like I’m mad at you because I know in reality I’m just an irritable fuck who takes things way too personally, and I try to act according to that knowledge and not take it out on people who dont deserve it. But I’m going to be irritated as fuck. 

Unless its super fucking easy or environmental and not the core draw of the game, I have no interest in subjecting myself to that stress. Puzzle games are STRESS to me. Its not their fault or the developers fault I’m insecure as fuck but that doesn’t make me enjoy the experience. 

The kinds of puzzles I don’t mind are the simple ass ones that show up in Uncharted, for example. But some of those even stumped me and if the whole, or even half the game was those, I wouldn’t play them, and theyre frequently my least favorite parts of a game.  

If finishing a puzzle is easy and i manage to finish it i might get a little bit of “yay i did it” but its usually more like “yay thats over now let me climb some shit or shoot some guys or see a new location”.  

Puzzles don’t make me feel smart and accomplished, they pretty much do the exact opposite.  

I’m more likely to say “Im not smart” these days because I’m so sure other people are going to reach the same conclusion that I feel like I need to beat them to it. That somehow, if they at least think I’m self aware of my own flaws, they wont think as little of me. Isn’t that fucked up?  Thats fucked up, though.  

 I know that its all bullshit, too, though?  Like I know a puzzle game does not measure my intelligence, and that my “intelligence” does not measure my worth. I know that society has fucked up ways in which it values “intelligence” and places worth upon people for factors out of their control.  I know that measuring peoples worth by their “intelligence” is fucked up.  I’m not educated enough on the topic to speak on it at length like I know what the fuck I’m talking about, but I’m aware of these realities.  I would not hold another person up to these standards which I hold myself do.  My failures to do certain things reflect negatively on me, but do not lesser OTHER PEOPLE who share my same failures in my eyes. 

But I was also raised in this society and it did fucked up things to my brain and trying to unlearn them and get a healthy state where I can play Portal without feeling like my worth as a human being is on the line is harder than just being aware of those fucked up things. 

And I don’t really know Puzzles in games bother me so much, considering I feel accomplished when I beat a small army that was giving me hell.  Even though its the same thing.  Tons of other people can beat those enemies, and at a higher difficulty, and probably faster and more efficiently. But I don’t care. Thats fun an engaging and rewarding. A puzzle is a boring chore at best, and a stressful unwanted hit to my self esteem at worst. Its literally homework. Its literally school to me. 

I think it might have something to do with the rigidity of puzzles and their answers?  You have to figure out the one answer, or the one path to that answer.  The answer is the solid, concrete goal and you gotta figure out what is usually the ONE way to do that. Whereas with killin small armies of mercenaries, i know what the answer is. Get them all dead. How I do it is my business, and I get to feel creative and tackle things MY WAY.  I get to be smart MY WAY.  Because real life puzzles arent often “heres a complicated set of things that a person set up with one or two answers, figure it out”, its usually like.  “Heres a problem created by circumstances, and theres probably a ton of ways to get what you want, do what you gotta do, and because you WANT IT, you have the motivation to give a shit”

If all im getting out of puzzles is an advanced PLOT, then I’m just gonna get pissed and look up a lets play so i can see someone that doesnt hate puzzles because puzzles make them hate themselves for me. 

This is why games like Portal can hold me at first and lose me later when its really obvious that theres just something I’m missing, and god I’ve been stuck in this room for so long that its killed any interest I have to continue playing this game, but I’m going to carry around this badge of “No I didn’t actually beat Portal 1 OR 2 ok, I got STUCK.  Leave me alone please I know im a disgrace, you dont have to tell me.”

Puzzles then become harder because I have no motivation to solve them.  I’m sure there are plenty of puzzle games I COULD BEAT but since I have no desire to or gain any real sense of accomplishment from them, I have no motivation to put my brain power into it when I could be playing another game I don’t have to force myself to enjoy because I feel like “Should” because this is what “Smart” people do and if I want to be “smart” then I should do stuff like this. 

That and im so used to games where puzzles are an obstacle keeping me from where I want to go, the distractions from everything else I love about a non puzzle oriented game. 

So while a puzzle game might have a great story, characters, aesthetic, etc.  I will never WANT to play it.  I might wish I ENJOYED it but I just do not have an interest in dedicated “Puzzle games”.  

TLDR I grew up one of those “smart kids” who found myself slowly slipping behind through highschool, hit hard as fuck in college, and now feel like I’m mostly behind everyone else in terms of study, life and motivation, im insecure as FUCK, and puzzle games hit that nerve like a goddamn mallet. Wow this got WAY FUCKING DEEPER than I wanted it to. 

TLDR Shorter Edition: I’m really fucking insecure. 

Disclaimer: There is nothing wrong with puzzle games or the people that play them.  I am a firm believer in the idea that just because a play style or format isn’t for me, doesn’t mean its bad and shouldn’t exist, ( I’m lookin at YOU, people who complain when a game is a tightly controlled linear narrative. I LIKE those, go play the bazillion other games that ARENT those.)