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sapphire-weapon · 4 months ago

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i have a question if it's not much of a bother but I remember way back when you answered an anon and explained a bit about the dev teams that work on RE.

Like the K2, M2 thing ?

You said they all work separately but the entire time ive been wondering how that exactly works, bc wouldn't capcom still have supervision over it? Or like the main division for it ? So that their plans can align?

So when division one says they have plans to make something (like aeon ) can't they/capcom just communicate with the other studios to make that happen

Sorry if it doesnt make sense what Im trying to say , but Google hasn't helped

um, so

That's not really how RE's dev works?

There is no "plan." There never has been. There never will be. That's why you can't take anything said outside of the games as canon. It's not like there's some encyclopedia of canon that Capcom keeps around and references when they make games. There's not a narrative roadmap. That's why RE's story changes direction so dramatically at different points of the series, and that's why so many characters and hanging plot threads just get dropped and are never picked back up again.

To my understanding, this is a general idea of how RE's dev works in most cases:

Step One: Capcom corporate executives (along with their investors) decide that they're going to make an RE game to release in X fiscal year in order to boost profits, and they hammer out the scope, scale, size, and budget of the project -- as well as determining how big/important the title will be and what systems it'll release on

Step Two: Capcom execs put a team together to helm the project

Step Three: those team leaders (the producer, the director, etc) refine the idea brought down by corporate into something that's actually buildable and then playable as a game

Step Four: the actual developers on the team get to work building the project laid out by the leaders in step three, following the direction and roadmap that those leaders finalized

Capcom Division 1 is the name of the giant pool of developers that work on mainline RE titles. There are enough devs in this pool that they can be split up into different teams so that Division 1 can be working on multiple projects at the same time -- and then, when one project is complete, the devs who worked on that now-completed project move over to a different team to help finish up whatever that other team is working on. For example, when RE8 went gold, the RE8 developers then switched over to help finish RE4make. We'll talk about this more a little bit later, but this is possible because they're all Capcom Division 1 devs; they're all familiar with the series, the engine, the tools, etc etc -- and they're all on the same payroll.

But Capcom Division 1, while huge, is still a limited number of devs. This crew can only be working on so many projects at once. And since game development is an average of 4-6 years, if Capcom corporate wants to release an RE game annually, there just simply aren't enough developers in Division 1 to meet that timeframe.

So they outsource the projects to other studios that Capcom does not own (as is the definition of "outsource").

Enter K-2 and M-2.

These are independent game studios that get contracted by Capcom to work on Capcom titles. They act like any other artist who gets a contract. They're not Capcom employees; they're just being paid by Capcom to work on a specific project. And once that project is finished, they will go back to being independent.

So, in these cases, step one is still the same. But then step two becomes "determine a liaison between Capcom and the contracted studio." And then steps 3-5 happen within the contracted studio. The liaison is there to just make sure that the studio stays within the parameters that Capcom corporate set out.

All RE projects, regardless of whether they're being developed in-house by Division 1 or if they're being contracted out to an independent studio, give the bulk of the creative liberty and development to the project leads of whatever studio is developing the game.

So, in other words: When an RE game gets made, the director and the producer have full creative liberty to do whatever they want with the title and are not beholden to any other creative vision from any other director or producer to have ever worked on Resident Evil.

Tl;dr: The director and the producer can do whatever they want.

This is why a lot of RE's story has been kind of incongruous and incoherent ever since Shinji Mikami left Capcom. The original RE1 on PSX was Mikami's pet project. When it became successful and was turned into a series, Mikami was tasked with the oversight of the series from a creative standpoint. It was solely his vision that was being realized.

But Mikami left Capcom after 4. And the story's been a free for all ever since. No one in Capcom has since stepped up to the plate and been able to take Mikami's place as the sole creative visionary director of Resident Evil. So, in the modern era, Capcom allows each project to just sort of... be whatever the fuck the producer and director of that project want it to be.

So, in the case of the current swath of RE remakes...

Resident Evil was in dire straits after RE6 was a monumental failure, and public trust in Capcom was at an all-time low due to other controversies within other projects.

Enter Yoshiaki Hirabayashi.

Hirabayashi wanted to put together a remake of RE2 because fans had been begging for it for well over a decade, and he had worked on the original REmake with Mikami-san himself. So, he felt that an RE2make would be the perfect project for that moment. But he knew that Capcom had said in the past that they would never remake RE2 and had, for a time, considered DSC to be RE2's remake. He was also in hot water at the company because he had been the producer of RE6. So, he took to Facebook and worked out a plan with fans as to what this RE2make would actually look like and be. He did the majority of the pre-production of RE2make himself by doing this.

He then pitched his idea to Capcom corporate, and Capcom was hesitant to greenlight it. In fact, they told him "no" several times. And each time, he went back to Facebook, told fans what corporate said, and they refined the project notes.

When RE2make was finally greenlit, it was considered a massive gamble by Capcom -- so, in order to help maximize profits on this gamble, they also greenlit remakes of 3 and 4, hoping to reuse assets and resources between the projects in order to take in as much money as possible.

Hirabayashi was put in charge of the RE2make project, and RE3make and RE4make were both outsourced to M-2 -- because the rest of Division 1 was working on RE7 and RE8 at the time.

So, Hirabayashi's team was working on RE2make at the same time that M-2 was working on RE3make. These two projects had nothing to do with each other and were being worked on separately by separate teams in separate studios. There was really no communication between them at all other than to share assets back and forth.

M-2, at this time, had the bulk of their devs working on RE3make and a skeleton crew starting on RE4make. But because both titles were being developed by that same studio, those two projects were in communication with each other, and that's why there are nods to RE4 in RE3make.

RE2make went gold, and those devs went to go help finish up RE8. And RE2make turned out to be incredibly successful.

RE3make went gold, and those devs went on to beef up production on RE4make.

But then RE3make performed poorly and wasn't received well by fans.

Capcom knew that they couldn't allow RE4make to be a failure in the same way. Fucking up an RE4make would put them right back in the hole in terms of customer trust and satisfaction just due to RE4OG's legacy. But they were also kind of stuck, because the team that had put out the massively successful RE2make was now tied up in RE8, and Capcom didn't want to risk that game facing delays.

So, after RE8 went gold -- two years after RE4make started production in earnest at M-2 -- Capcom pulled the project from M-2 and put it back in-house to have its development rebooted and completed by the same team at Division 1 that had developed RE2make.

The reason why there's a coherent narrative and characterization throughline from RE2make to RE4make is not because Capcom had planned it that way. Their initial plans were for those two projects to not be linked at all. The reason why that throughline exists is because both of those games were completed under the direct creative control of Yoshiaki Hirabayashi. That was his doing and his doing alone.

And now, since Hirabayashi's team is working on CXVR, we can expect CXVR to be a direct sequel to RE2make and a direct prequel to RE4make -- but, again, that's only because Hirabayashi is at the head of it. He has a vision that he is seeing realized. It's not Capcom's vision. It's his.

Normally, when a team sets out to work on an RE game, the only reference they use is the series of games that came before the one they're working on now -- and, sometimes, they don't even use that. Sometimes, they just don't give a shit. That's why Steve Burnside never reappeared in the series. That's why characters like Sheva and Helena will never return. That's why RE9 is now allegedly ignoring the Blue Umbrella storyline.

There is no coherent vision for RE at Capcom. There hasn't been since Shinji Mikami left. There is only the vision of the individual directors and producers at the head of the teams that build the games.

We are incredibly lucky that Hirabayashi has been able to do RE2make, CVXR, and RE4make. This will likely be a trilogy that will be the most coherent and consistent narrative that RE has ever seen between titles. But it will be the exception, not the rule.

So now, with RE0make being developed by M-2 and K-2 in tandem, they are free to do their own thing. They are not bound by Hirabayashi's vision. RE0make will be whatever the fuck RE0make will be, because Capcom corporate believes in giving the project director and producer creative control of whatever they're building.

It is entirely possible that the REmake series goes back on the retcon of aeon if RE6make falls into the hands of someone who is not Yoshiaki Hirabayashi. (But, if I had to guess, Hirabayashi is going to be the one to get forced into that project eventually -- because, apparently, no one else wants to do it, and Hirabayashi already has a proven track record of banger REmakes under his belt. All of the ones worth talking about have his fingerprints on them.)

But just keep this in mind as the remake series moves forward.

I'm sorry for the huge wall of text. I know you probably thought that you were asking a simple question. But there are a lot of moving parts to this, and it's important to understand all of them in order to understand the answer to your question.

#resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 3 #resident evil 4

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brightatmidnight · 1 year ago

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The Chaser’s Voyage Starmap for 2024

Hello everyone. Cameron and I are back from our winter break and ready to continue our work on (and hopefully finish up) The Chaser’s Voyage this year. So first, let’s go over what we’ve accomplished last year by looking at the Starmap for the game.

Last year, we revamped the tutorial, we added in a new client type, the aligned cartographer, and we updated client stories to improve randomization and fall more in line with our game’s lore. We also made other client tweaks such as highlighting mentions of factions in the client stories, so that you, the player, can really know which clients are good and which will lead to a horrible death. Along the way, we made plenty of little updates, including making some UI changes to improve the experience for gamepad users. When we first made this Starmap, we put the biggest obstacles and challenges first, but we didn’t anticipate some unexpected challenges, like prioritizing implementing gamepad support and making a full performance overhaul. Now though, we are happy with how these things have come together and we’re ready to tackle the final parts of The Chaser’s Voyage before launch.

So what are those parts?

They’re the fun little extras that we’ve been dying to get into the game for a long time now. The first is our lore, which takes the form of our Crew Journal. We’ve talked a bit about it before, but to reiterate, it’s pretty much where a bulk of our game universe’s history and character backstories lie. They’ll take the form of various in-universe pieces of media, such as news articles, private messages, or non-voiced character interactions. It’s all extra stuff, but we’ve made a huge effort to ensure that the galaxy you’re flying the Chaser through is a reflection of a consistent world full of other stories to tell or have yet to be told.

With so much lore though, all together it’s the same amount of words as a short novel, one of the first problems we were encountering with the Journal was how it affected the startup loadtime. We actually had all the lore in the game for a while in outdated UI, but since it was inaccessible we removed it for the Early Access builds. Luckily, Cameron seems to have found a promising solution already. At the time of this writing, we are now exploring how we want to present the Crew Journal visually. So, fingers crossed that we’ll be able to get that into an early access build soon.

After that, we’ll only have one more major feature to work on, which is the inclusion of our training mode, the Flight Simulator. This will allow players to create their own scenarios that they can use as practice for the main game. For instance, if pirates chasing you through minefields are always giving you a hard time, you can set the simulator to those same conditions and practice until you master the encounter. You can also adjust your starting health and choose which systems are already damaged upon entering the encounter. The cool thing about implementing this feature is that we already have it in the game, it’s just inaccessible. The reason for that is that is two fold. 1: There are options only intended for our use (to make it easier to capture exactly the footage we want for trailers since so much of our game is determined randomly). And 2: We are planning on overhauling the visuals for the Flight Sim UI, since the ones we have now are fairly bare bones.

After the Flight Sim, it’s a matter of cleaning a few things up, maybe adding some features we didn’t think of at the time, and bug testing before finally launching out of Early Access. Some of these features we’ve already implemented, such as the Voyager+ and Captain+ modes, which lets players play the Ace mode’s encounter randomization on lower difficulties. One of the big things that needs to be cleaned up is our options menu, which is not finalized since we don’t want to set anything in stone while we’re still developing the game and adding new options and setting.

Now, you may have noticed that we also have a “Milestone” between “Phase 1” and “Phase 2”. We wanted to reach a more polished state before we started really using VoxPop’s platform. We are still definitely hoping to collaborate with streamers in order to get the word out there, especially after last year’s updates. Neither Cameron nor I are really into marketing, but we’re determined to do everything we can to make The Chaser’s Voyage succeed.

I have a lot of high hopes for this year. We’re gonna keep working towards making The Chaser’s Voyage really soar and we’re hoping you’ll be with us when this voyage finally takes off!

For more updates on The Chaser’s Voyage, be sure to check back on our blog, follow The Chaser's Voyage and Bright at Midnight on Twitter, or join our Discord! If you wish to play The Chaser’s Voyage, you can buy it while we’re in Early Access on Steam.

- Eos//G

#The Chaser's Voyage #space #space game #spaceflight #Steam #early access #indie #indie games #indie dev #game dev #game development #video games #games #gaming #videogame #Bright at Midnight

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victorluvsalice · 1 year ago

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We've hit Fall Thursday in the Chill Valicer Save today, and you know what that means -- Harvestfest! And they had a FREAKING BUSY Harvestfest, let me tell you -- if I counted correctly, this update has NINETY PICTURES in total. Yeah, uh, it's actually a pretty good thing that we can upload more than ten to a post now, isn't it? O.O

Anyway! Morning started off pretty tamely and typically -- Smiler, freshly retraited after the end of the last episode, took Shadow out on a nice walk, while Alice went upstairs to gather inspiration from their fish and then start a new book (a motivational book called "Solving Your Problems With Trains" ;) ) and Victor woke from sleep and got right on studying his Nimble Mind and Emotional Stability potion tomes. I do think it's very cool how higher-level spellcasters have the books float in front of them like that. . . Anyway, Victor discovered three things from all that reading -- the recipe for the Nimble Mind potion (requires parsley and a spotted dirt frog -- figured even if Smiler didn't have that in their collection, they could breed it eventually); the recipe for the Emotional Stability potion (requires a potato and obtanium -- again, even if Alice didn't have that in her metal collection, she could dig it up eventually); and --

The fact that the fossil display shelves made by @somecreativecc ALSO FUNCTION AS A BOOKCASE. O.o Uh, SomeCreative, was -- was that intentional? I'm not COMPLAINING, I just find it a touch bizarre? *shakehead* So, yeah, Victor's tomes went in there with the fossils once he was done with them and gotten his magical "free samples." *shrug* Like I said, not complaining, just -- slightly confused.

Now -- while all this was going on, I was also checking both Shadow and Kelly for signs of illness, because, as you may remember last time, I found a couple of random puddles of sick around the place and wasn't sure which pet was producing them. Shadow seemed fine on her walk, and when I looked around the house again, I found another puddle of sick by one of Kelly's scratching posts. This really seemed to indicate that it was poor Kelly who wasn't feeling well --

A hypothesis confirmed when she came over to hang out with Alice near her desk while she wrote, and another puddle of sick appeared right next to her. I had Victor use Scruberoo to clean up all the sick, then go pamper Kelly with a little brushing as I tried to determine what was wrong. I mean, after all, the cat didn't LOOK ill -- Sim illnesses in both pets and people tend to be pretty visible! The only other explanation I could think of was poor Kelly had hairballs, which -- would be very impressive on a hairless cat like herself! I made a note to get her to the vet later, and she eventually ran off to do more cat things. Leaving more sick behind her. *sigh*

With THAT mystery solved, and Victor's potions learned, I decided it was time for him to get back on fabricating stuff -- namely because I wanted to do some more eco upgrades around the house. So he headed down to the barn, where -- after Repairioing all the broken wind turbines and water collectors, and setting out some sacred candles to help with his still-broken "Fear Of The Dark" moodlet and the scary noises around the house -- he proceeded to make another eco upgrade part. (Really wish I could made those in BULK, but what are you gonna do.) I then sent him to the garden to do the usual tending -- weeding, watering, fertilizing -- as Alice continued working on her book (maxing out the Writing skill in the process! Go Alice!) and Smiler came back from their walk with Shadow. The doggo went to hang with Victor in the greenhouse as he started harvesting, while Smiler entertained Kelly and Alice finished up her book, submitted it to the literary digest (because obviously this guide on Bumby murder deserves it), then went to clean the chicken coop and entertain the cowplant -- which, since we seem to be keeping it for the time being, I decided to name "Toothy." I mean, if the large drooling maw full of sharp teeth fits...

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #yeah uh this one turned out to be SUPER LONG #a lot of stuff happened this Harvestfest #as you shall soon find out #but first all the usual chores and taking care of the pets #it's kind of weird that pet sick is so realistic #when I'm pretty sure Sim sick should it land on a floor is less so #kinda gross too #let's all be grateful for scruberoo #and yeah that thing about the fossil display was a real bwuh moment #I'm ASSUMING it was cloned from a bookcase and thus retained that functionality?#I mean it looks good I'm not gonna stop using it #and I guess it's handy to have it as a way to get books on the top floor #but still weird #queued

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evil-robot-cat · 3 years ago

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He’s done. He’s done, he’s done, he’s done. 100% completely finished. I wanted a Prince Sidon Nendoroid. I’ve finally got one.

This has been my distraction and my obsession for the bulk of this year. I was determined, no matter how ugly it would turn out, to have a Sidon Nendoroid to play with Link and Zelda. "Even if it's terrible, it'll be mine!" was my motivation to never give up. There was a clumsy sort of a body before this, with straight legs and girly little ruffles over the shoulder. But then I saw the legs on the Kirishima Nendoroid, and I scrapped the original body then and there. With the new legs, I sought out parts that would get me as close to a bare, bald body as possible, and built Sidon's figure up from scratch. I had a little sketch of what I thought he would look like, and I kept that as part guide, part motivation. Most of the parts I built up too big, then wet-sanded down into the right shape. I had to compromise here and there. I refused to give up his arm fins! On a tiny, chubby figure like this, that's the easiest way to see that this is adult, not baby Sidon. (You think it doesn't matter? It will if I put alcohol on his dinner table!) For obvious reasons, I couldn't give him his collar, but the whistle and cravat had to stay. His sword and scabbard got the axe as well, so to speak. They are only decorative, since when he's actually in battle he uses tridents.

When it came to paint, I decided to go with pure white instead of greenish-white. (For photography purposes this is kind of a mistake. White doesn’t photograph well.) I used Age of Calamity to make up my mind - I put Sidon and Mipha into all kinds of locations and lighting, and I'm fairly certain the green tone is just an effect caused by the blue light of the Domain. I blended the red too dark, and in lightening it, ended up with five entire bottles of blood red paint. That's okay - I used two of them to give him all his coats of red! The rest, if they don't dry out, will be good for patching him up along the way. Official or custom, Nendoroids chip when you play with them too much.

In my excitement, I wanted to plate his silver with real metal, but other Nendoroids don't have metal finishes, and I needed him to blend in, not stand out. His face was a challenge. If you've seen my other customs, you know I'm not very good at controlling a tiny paint brush OR making things symmetrical. Sidon doesn't have a human face, so I couldn't use another Nendoroid's faceplate. One way or another, I had to make it happen. I started with a handful of the noseless blanks Good Smile sells for custom contests. I bought printable waterslide transfer sheets, but I didn't have the funds for printer ink. Instead, I drew the eyes in by hand with a Staedtler marker, transferred them to the faceplates, and filled the lines in with paint. There were mistakes along the way, too. His fins aren't symmetrical. His right leg doesn't wiggle as much as it should because I made the hip fin too close to the joint. His back is already chipping a little around the peg hole, and his shoulder fins are brittle. They'll eventually need to be replaced entirely. But not now. Now I just want to celebrate. This is... by far... the most complex custom Nendoroid I have ever made. To be honest, I didn't even tell people I was working on it at first, because I was so certain it would end in failure. But when you're this excited about something, you've got to share it with someone! Now that he's done, I can say he was worth all the struggle and doubt, all the time and concentration!

By the way... my Sidon is not and never will be for sale. I can't make another one to sell, either. He was very complicated and expensive to make, and I guarantee you could not pay what it would cost to do it again. If you see photos of my Sidon somewhere offered for sale, that's a scammer! Don't give them your money! If you want to try making your own, though - you're welcome to use my photos as a guide (even if it's, "Ew, I'll make sure not to do what she did!"), and ask me for any tips or advice about how to do it. I'll share all the information I have - probably more than you want, and you'll be tired of hearing it!

#Prince Sidon #botw sidon #custom nendoroid #botw #holy shit look at him #toy photography

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

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Learning Curve

Masterlist

Inspired by my new car (yes. I am obsessed. What of it) and also my lovely bestie and beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit make sure you read her fics too!

Word count: 3.1k

Recommended song: "Wildflower" by 5 Seconds of Summer

Hungary at the tail end of July is beautiful. Fresh floral blooms and rolling hills pass by, the pops of color so bright they almost hurt to look at. It smells like summer, rife with the promise of days spent lounging in a beach chair with a fruity drink in your hand. Returning to university in a month is a worry for another time; today is about enjoying the man beside you.

You lean your head against the door of Pierre's Civic, your arm out the window floating on the wind. The mid morning sun hangs fat and lazy above the horizon, its warmth seeping in to heat your bones. Bits of easy conversation fill the space, the occasional lapses comfortably filled by the soft hum of the radio playing some incomprehensible pop songs. If Max were here he'd probably sing along, so horrendously off key that there was no choice but to laugh along.

Traffic grows thinner and less congested as you leave Budapest proper behind. Your destination is a mystery, but one you are more than happy to leave unanswered until your eventual arrival. Pierre woke you a few hours ago at the ass crack of dawn, bouncing on his heels with a huge grin plastered on his face. He pointed to the pile of clothes at the foot of your hotel bed and instructed you to get ready and ask no questions. The bistro he took you to for breakfast reminded you of Rouen, which undoubtedly was part of the reason he loved it so much.

Summer break kicked off only yesterday and Pierre is determined to spend every minute with you. Three weeks of uninterrupted time with your racer, not one event or interview scheduled. No sooner than Pierre finished his debrief on Sunday had he flipped the switch between racer and boyfriend, seamlessly slipping back into the doting, affectionate man you loved. All three weeks are meticulously planned out for the two of you; Pierre took great care ensuring you wouldn't have to lift a finger the entire time.

Pierre finds the hand resting in your lap and twines your fingers together, bringing them to his lips and dropping a kiss on each of your knuckles. "Any guesses where we're going?"

"Clearly not a shopping center," you joke, your grin growing as you say it. Mountains surround you for the better portion of the drive, meaning you're utterly clueless as to what he has in mind.

"Nope. I'm taking you on a hike." Keeping secrets or surprises to himself isn't Pierre's fortay. It's virtually impossible for him to keep it to himself, too antsy to see your face when he drops the big reveal.

"Mmm," you glance pointedly at your shoes, "that explains why you made me pack these."

Pierre nods and steals a glance at you. "The view from the top is gorgeous, you're gonna love it."

To be honest, you're not sure anything can top your current view: Pierre, rosy cheeked and laughing against the backdrop of rainbow fields. His baby blue shirt hugging his chest, the one you bought him ages ago that became too small after his winter break bulk-up. He stubbornly refused to replace the shirt, no matter how often you offer to do so. You couldn't dream up a better day if you tried.

The car's exhaust pops faintly as Pierre downshifts and pulls into a gravel lot. An old VW Golf is the only other car in the lot, tucked off to the side under the shade trees. Pierre double checks that the car is in neutral and applies the parking brake before cutting the engine.

"You up for an hour of vigorous, intense cardio?"

"Judging by the slope of that trail," you say, pointing to the gently sloping path that cuts through the waist-high grasses, "I doubt it'll be that intense. But bring it on, lover boy."

**********

"People think it's Holland that's got all the tulips, but they're actually the national flower of Hungary."

"Is that so?" You swing your joined hands between you, more than happy to listen to Pierre's random factoids. Where he stored the expert-level trivia is a mystery. You assume his head is chock full of racing data and specs, but somehow a corner of his brain must be reserved for little things like this.

"Yep." Pierre drops your hand and spreads his arms wide, walking backwards ahead of you. "All of this- fuck!"

You reach for him as he falls, his arms cartwheeling in an attempt to catch him. He goes down hard, his left ankle taking one for the team and rolling hard enough for there to be a faint pop.

"Owwww," Pierre groans, eyes screwed shut. "Fucking hell, what did I even trip over?"

You crouch and gingerly assess the joint, fingers prodding the tanned skin and earning a hiss from the Frenchman. "I've no idea. There's nothing here, not a rock or anything."

"At least the race was yesterday," Pierre sighs, leaning back on his elbows in the dirt. "Christian would have my ass if I tripped over air and couldn't drive."

"Let's get you up." Pierre grabs your outstretched hand and you haul him to his feet. He carefully puts weight on his left leg and immediately yelps and leans on you.

"Yep, I'm not trying that again."

Sighing, you wrap an arm around his waist. "Alright then. At least we didn't get too far."

Pierre pouts his lower lip, concentrating on limping back the way you came. "I'll bring you back once this is better. It really is amazing."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Oh shit," Pierre starts, hobbling along to pause and lean against a tree, "you know who is gonna kill me?"

"Pyry," you both say at the same time. You grin and Pierre groans, already thinking of the grueling routines his trainer will likely put him through once he's able.

"This just sucks." Pierre scrubs a hand over his face and bends down to examine his ankle. "Being around you makes me clumsy."

You bite back a laugh, "guess you fell for me a little too hard, huh?"

Pierre straightens and fixes you with an amused glare. "Oh, that's just cheesy. Even for you, little miss pun queen."

Looping an arm around his middle, you laugh, "see, you act like you wouldn't actually say that though. We both know you're just mad you didn't come up with it first." Not a day went by that Pierre didn't find some way to compliment you and remind you how he felt, often going over the top with the cheese factor. You love him for it though, and appreciate every kind word, tucking them away in your mental album to pull out and look at again when he is away.

"No you're one hundred percent right. That should've been my line."

You focus on getting the two of you safely down the gentle incline before you retort, "why does the way back always seem ten times longer than the way there?"

"It might be because you're carrying around a hunk of muscle operating on one good leg and one swollen ankle."

"Thank god," you mumble a few moments later when you crest the final ridge and spot the Civic. You love Pierre, but hauling him around isn't something you're capable of doing much longer.

"Are you good to drive?" You ask, digging the keys out of his pocket and unlocking the car.

"Have you seen the size of my ankle?" Pierre shakes his head. "You're gonna have to drive."

"What?" You sputter, cheeks heating. "I can't. I mean, I don't know how."

Despite being surrounded by cars since you could walk, being taught to drive a manual wasn't something you gave much thought. You'd tried once when you were little, maybe twelve of thirteen. With the seat pushed all the way forward you still struggled to reach the pedals and gave up after many failed attempts. Getting back in the driver's seat to learn hasn't seemed important when an uber was a click away.

Pierre smiles wide. "Relax, amour. I'll teach you."

You chew on your lip, glancing between the keys in your hand and the ball of metal that served as your only way back to the hotel. The only way this ends is in embarrassment. You sigh, accepting your tragic fate. Might as well get it over with so you can call Charles or Max to come save your sorry asses.

"I'm not sure," you mumble, unconsciously running your nails over your palm. The Civic was huge compared to your normal car; even if it was a standard transmission you'd be nervous about driving it.

Confidence oozes from Pierre when he smiles, "I promise I'm a good teacher. Please give it a try."

You blow a raspberry and rake a hand through your slightly sweat damp hair. Battles like this aren't easily won with Pierre, especially when he has the unfair advantage of looking like a particularly cute puppy when he chooses to. "Alright, fine."

"Really? I thought I was gonna have to call Horner and beg him to come get us." You cringe inwardly at the mere mention of his old team principal. Pierre doesn't notice, instead pressing a kiss to your cheek, utterly giddy with the opportunity to imbue you with some of his skill. "You'll do great. It's just like riding a bike."

The smile you offer in return is far more wobbly than his. Regular driving took you long enough to master. Throw in more things to remember, like braking and shifting and listening to the engine, and you were set on a crash course that ended in disaster.

You walk at a snail's pace around the car and pause with your fingers curled around the handle. As long as you don't panic, you'll be fine.

What if you mess up? What if something happens and you get stranded somewhere and have to wait hours for someone to find you?

You take your time buckling in, nerves eating away at your stomach. Maybe if you threw up Pierre would let you phone a friend. Meticulously adjusting your side and rear view mirrors affords you a few precious seconds of wasted time, which unfortunately does nothing to help your mindset.

Your hands rest on opposite sides of the leather wrapped wheel, looking every ounce like a teenager about to embark on their driving test. You stare straight ahead, heart pounding so loud you're positive it echoes in the cabin.

"Um, sweetheart?" Pierre pokes your arm. "It helps if you start the engine."

"Oh. Uh- right." You turn the key and nothing happens. A light blinks on the dash and a warning dings rapidly. Immediately you throw your hands up, ready to protest that you didn't do anything when text appears on the navigation screen.

Depress clutch pedal to start vehicle.

Right, yeah, that makes sense. You glance down to locate the third pedal at your feet and press it to the floor, finding it goes twice as far as you expected it to. This time when you turn the key the engine rumbles to life, shaking you in your seat. "Oookay. Okay. What do I do?"

Pierre taps the lever at your side. "Start by pressing the brake pedal, then release the parking brake. Push the button in and pull up before lowering it."

You follow his instructions, and to your delight the engine doesn't sputter and die which sparks a sliver of self-confidence. With a little luck, maybe this wouldn't be as terrible as you expected. "Okay, and now?"

"Now you use your left foot to press the clutch. All the way to the floor." Patience is key when it comes to teaching someone a new skill. Luckily Pierre possesses that trait in heaps and bounds, using it in conjunction with his knowledge of how you operate to tailor his lesson to best suit your needs.

Your toes barely reach the clutch so you have to take a second to scoot your seat forward a few inches. "Okay," you say, finally comfortably settled with your feet holding both the brake and clutch pedals firmly.

"Now you do this." Pierre grips the shift knob and pushes down firmly. "When you're putting it in reverse, you have to make sure you push the shifter in, otherwise you'll wind up in sixth."

Your laugh is strained. "Which would be bad."

Pierre smiles wide, further lightening the mood. "Yeah, it wouldn’t be good. So, reverse in the Civic is all the way right and down." Pierre demonstrates, letting you observe the pattern. "Whenever you're ready, you're in reverse."

You furrow your brow, checking your mirrors. "Um, okay. So now I let the clutch out-"

"Not all the way-"

The warning comes too little too late. You dump the clutch in a single motion and the car jerks backwards and dies.

"Fuck," you mumble, cheeks going hot. Point proven, you have no idea what you're doing and were probably too uncoordinated to figure it out. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Pierre reaches over to cycle the key and winces, forgetting his injury momentarily. "It's only a rental."

"Yeah but if I break something it's gonna come out of your paycheck." Because that's how the Red Bull umbrella operated, you supposed. They didn't tend to care much about their drivers, unless they brought in the big bucks. Which wouldn't be the case if you kept at this and burned up the clutch. "I'll just call Charles, he can come get us-"

"He's on a plane by now," Pierre says, reaching out to smooth a hand over your hair. "Hey, look at me. Just try again, okay? Everyone stalls once in a while, even me."

You nod, taking a breath. You close your hand over the leather of the shifter, pressing the clutch in and slowly rowing through the gears until you get a feel for where they lie. You side it all the way right and down, the transmission sounding beneath you.

"Okay, I'll try again."

"There's my girl." Pierre squeezes your thigh encouragingly, a delightful shiver running down your spine with the praise. "You ready?"

"Ready."

"Apply the gas evenly as you start letting off the clutch," Pierre coaches in the most soothing voice you've heard from him. "You're looking for proportions. And if you panic, just push the clutch all the way in and start over. No big deal."

"No big deal." You look over your shoulder, inching off the clutch while incrementally adding more throttle. The revs skyrocket for a moment until you get the hang of it, but you do as Pierre had suggested and start again. It takes you a few more tries to get backed all the way out of the spot, but you don't stall it.

Pierre whoops and rubs his hand along your thigh. "There you go! See, I knew you could do it."

You grin and shift into first. "Only because I have the best teacher." You take another deep breath, focusing on the feel of the pedal under your left foot. You let it out slowly until you feel it start to grab and inch on the throttle. The car purrs and rolls forward, jolting a little when you let out the clutch a bit early.

"Still not bad," Pierre murmurs encouragingly, then reminds you to take it slow on the gravel. You do, cautiously applying throttle just enough to keep the car from chugging.

"Here we go," you breathe and successfully pull onto the street. Luckily you were on some long forgotten backroad and no other cars were in sight. You trundle along in first gear for long enough that Pierre instructs you to pull over.

"Stopping and starting is the hard part." Pierre's hand is warm as it settles over yours on the gear shift. "Push in the clutch and I'll show you where the gears are."

Pierre helps you feel out all six gears with the engine off. You concentrate on the throw of the shifter, trying to memorize the length between each shift.

"What if I accidentally put it in reverse instead of sixth?" The disaster plays out in your head clear as day. Parts flying about from the engine, flames- the whole nine yards.

"You can't, because you have to do this-" Pierre pushes down firmly on the shifter before sliding it over and down, a mirror of his earlier action- "to put it in reverse, remember? It's like a fail safe so that doesn't happen."

You nod, trying to think of anything else to keep his hand on yours. "Err, I guess that's it then?"

Pierre raises your joined hands to his lips before placing yours back on the shifter. "Have at 'er. This stretch is long and flat for the next few miles and the pavement was relatively smooth when we came through this morning, so you should be fine if you wanna try going fast."

Biting your lip, you start again. The exhaust rumbles beneath you as you fly through first, second, third, until you're giddy with laughter and speed.

Now you understand why Pierre is addicted to this. Piloting a road car pales in comparison to steering a formula car around a track like Spa, and still you're hooked in a single drive.

As you get closer to town, Pierre chuckles, "alright speed demon, slow it down a bit. You're coming up on traffic."

You pout your lower lip but downshift, the crackling exhaust amplified by the barrier wall along the highway to your right. "Remember when you asked me what I wanted for my birthday?"

"I feel like I know where this is going."

You shoot Pierre a grin and downshift again when brake lights illuminate the dusty horizon. "I want one of these babies. This is so much more fun than an auto."

"Didn’t I tell you that you'd be fine? You did great actually, better than Charles when I taught him. He got so pissed when he couldn't figure it out that he got out and started cursing in every language he knew- it almost reminded me of Max when things don't go his way."

"I'll be sure to rub that in Charles' face at the next opportunity." Your laugh is warm, heart filled with the newfangled joy of exceeding the learning curve.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly oneshot #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fantasy #f1 imagine #pierre gasly x reader #jac writes

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eskelstits · 4 years ago

Note

Okay okay so hear me out:

Jaskier has been acting odd lately, though the bard was either too shy or too stubborn to acknowledge it. At the very least, he was stubborn fool for thinking Geralt, of all people, wouldn’t take notice. Jaskier had suddenly become adamant about more generous rations for his Witcher, started to insist on larger dinners at taverns, and was always quick to suggest another round of food and drink— only to insist that Geralt finish it. The witcher pretended not to notice the way Jaskier watched intently while he ate and hid his wry amusement when the bard hurriedly looked away upon being caught. Geralt had so far played along with these antics in feigned ignorance, admittedly feeling a small thrill as his body started to bulk and strain against his armor. And now that he was paying closer attention, he found himself fond of just how delicate his bard looked by comparison. Armed with his suspicions of what Jaskier is up to, Geralt decides to satisfy his curiosity by embracing the bard’s antics and seeing just how much he can him squirm.

I was thinking some stuffing and size kink ~ with increasingly daring taunts thrown from both sides of the table bc let’s be real neither of the boys would give in easily.

THANK YOU i definitely had fun with this prompt

[ masterpost - ao3 ]

"Are you ill?" Geralt asked the question hunched over the plate of eggs and bacon he was enjoying for his breakfast.

More accurately, Jaskier's breakfast. Geralt had already finished his own serving, but then Jaskier had deftly stacked his own half-full plate on top of Geralt's empty one. To be fair, as it turned out, that particular tavern did tend to dish out surprisingly hearty portions, and Geralt had to remind himself that Jaskier was not a witcher, and therefore did not have the appetite of one. It was not the only occasion on which Jaskier had passed off a good fraction of his food to Geralt, however.

In fact, it seemed to be happening more and more frequently lately. He would demand seconds, larger portions, extra bread or more ale, only to immediately claim that he was full and offer it up to Geralt. After a tough life of fighting for survival, Geralt was a rather opportunistic eater, and so he always took advantage of Jaskier's leftovers. It was … strange, but Geralt could not say he exactly minded it. He did like going to bed warm and satiated rather than starving, tossing and turning and kept awake by his growling stomach. The only thing that really puzzled Geralt was the staring. Jaskier would look at him like Geralt was the most fascinating thing on the Continent whenever they sat down together to eat, but as Geralt had recently discovered, Jaskier would always quickly look away the moment Geralt met his eye.

Jaskier gaped and sputtered for a moment, eyes wide and hand settled over his chest as though Geralt had just viciously insulted him.

"Ill? Geralt, you wound me. I will have you know that I'm positively glowing with good health," Jaskier huffed.

Geralt grunted. Eyes narrowed, he examined Jaskier for just a brief moment longer, then bowed his head again to continue eating. Out of the edge of his vision, he could see Jaskier watching him.

Geralt had been willing to ignore the odd behavior up until his trousers started feeling tight. He still was not quite upset. It was not an overly drastic change, just a slight layer of padding over top of his muscles, making him look more like he did after he had been settled for a while over the winters he spent at Kaer Morhen, but there was a definite difference. Jaskier seemed to be noticing, too. Though he had not said anything about it, he still stared, and whenever he and Geralt fell into bed together, the bard's hands smoothed all over him, wordlessly worshiping Geralt's fuller frame.

Geralt enjoyed it, too. He had always been broader than Jaskier, but putting on a bit of weight had only highlighted that contrast. The day before, Geralt had caught a glimpse of his reflection looming behind Jaskier's in the mirror as the bard stood there checking over his own outfit for the evening's performance, and he had looked almost … delicate in comparison to Geralt. The sight had ignited something deep and primal and exciting in his core, and he wanted to chase that thrill.

No, he was far from upset. He was curious, though. While he had pieced together what was happening, there was still one more question: Was Jaskier doing it on purpose? Geralt supposed he could simply ask, but the thought of setting himself up for vulnerability like that was horrific. He had to find some other way to weasel out the truth. He had to beat Jaskier at his own game.

"Do I look different to you?" Geralt dared to ask that evening while they waited for the barmaid to come back with their dinner order. Jaskier looked anxious for just a brief second, but then he relaxed again and hummed inquisitively as he scanned Geralt's face.

"Is that a new doublet? Oh! Have you trimmed your beard?" Jaskier said.

Geralt hummed. By trade, Jaskier was a performer, but Geralt knew him well enough to be able to tell when he was lying -- or 'acting,' as Jaskier often corrected him. Two could play that game. Feigning ignorance, Geralt nodded and falsely agreed that he had gone to a barber, and he watched Jaskier decompress with relief. When the barmaid returned and set a full plate down in front of each of them, Geralt cleared his throat to get her attention.

"I want another," he said, pointing to his own plate.

"Ah … Another leg of chicken?" The barmaid looked a bit confused, like she was hesitant to believe that Geralt had been referring to the entire meal.

"No. Another plate," Geralt insisted. A brief pause, and he tacked on, "Please."

The barmaid blinked, but she chose not to argue. Rather, she nodded and scurried back to the kitchen. When Geralt looked back towards Jaskier, the bard was staring. Again.

"... Hungry, are you?" Jaskier questioned.

"Very."

Geralt held Jaskier's gaze for a moment longer and watched as just a hint of color began creeping over the bard's cheeks. Without another word, Geralt began to eat. He tore into the half chicken and the hearty portion of roast vegetables he had in front of him, and each time he glanced up, he found Jaskier trying and ultimately failing to be subtle about the fact that he was watching Geralt like a hawk. Geralt thought that he would have wanted to shy away before he managed to get his questions answered, but that was not the case. In reality, he actually liked the attention, those enraptured eyes fixed on him making him feel alight with a strange mixture of pleasure and shame. The barmaid came back with the rest of the food Geralt had requested, and she set it down quickly almost as though afraid of getting bitten if she ventured too close. Geralt grunted his thanks around a full mouth. Jaskier had been uncharacteristically silent the entire time, all the way up until Geralt finally broke for air and a drink of ale.

“Are you … sure you’re going to be able to finish all of that?” Jaskier sounded both tentative and almost laughably eager.

“Yes,” Geralt answered.

He met Jaskier’s eye again, his gaze dark and smoldering. The bard’s throat bobbed enticingly when he swallowed, and Geralt only barely held back a smirk. Whether or not Jaskier had been feeding Geralt up on purpose, it was obvious that he enjoyed the show, and it was always fun for Geralt to try and get him flustered.

“Ah, yes, well … I suppose you have had quite a healthy appetite lately,” Jaskier said. He spoke hesitantly, testing his luck. Geralt pushed right back.

“Someone has to eat all your leftovers.”

“Mm, yes. You are rather good for that.”

Geralt made it about halfway through his second plate before Jaskier was getting restless again. The bard still had some food remaining on his own plate, and judging from the way he kept glancing between it and Geralt and tapping his fingers anxiously against the table, he was hoping to see the witcher finish it off for him.

“Going to eat that?” Geralt spoke around a mouthful of chicken.

He had inched past satisfied a few bites ago, but he could keep going comfortably enough, and he so desperately wanted to see how Jaskier was going to react to his more deliberate goading. Geralt watched while Jaskier blushed and tried his best to act as though he had not been hoping to hear that exact question. It had been painfully obvious. Their many years together had given Geralt the ability to be able to read Jaskier like an open book. Sometimes, it was useful, likely saving Jaskier from some fights when Geralt was able to pick up on the body language that meant foolish determination or rising anger, but other times, like in that moment, it was simply amusing.

“Come now, love, you can’t possibly still be hungry,” Jaskier teased. Somewhat unexpectedly, it sent a jolt down Geralt’s spine. The witcher made a noise somewhat like a little growl, and his pupils widened. Jaskier did a much poorer job of veiling his own smirk. Perfect. Geralt was baiting him, and he was falling for it so easily. “I know you’ve been eating a great deal lately, but honestly … you’re getting greedy.”

Geralt’s heart fluttered nearly as quickly as a human’s as Jaskier scraped the rest of his food onto Geralt’s plate. By then, Jaskier seemed to have accepted that it was useless to hide his interest. He sat with his elbows braced against the table and his jaw cradled in his palms, alluring blue eyes fixed unwaveringly on Geralt. Near the end of his meal, Geralt was at last starting to struggle, the fact that his armor clung to him a bit more than he would have preferred only keeping it pinned in the forefront of his mind just how full he was. Jaskier’s reddened cheeks had only grown more vivid, the color even dusting the tips of his ears. Geralt rarely saw the bard so silent, so unwaveringly focused, usually only when he was in the middle of a fit of intense writing inspiration, and while Geralt felt scrutinized, he was actually enjoying it. Feeling bold, he grunted around his last mouthful and then reclined back in his chair, hoping to give Jaskier a glimpse of his distended belly where it strained against his clothes. Judging from the look on the bard’s face, it had worked.

“Are you finally satisfied, then?” Jaskier asked, and something about his tone of voice had something hot and exciting churning in the pit of Geralt’s stomach. He sounded almost condescending, but in the most deliciously arousing way possible.

“Mhm.” It was little more than a grunt.

Jaskier evidently had very little regard for how sluggish Geralt was looking. Lithe fingers curled around Geralt’s wrist and tugged insistently, and although Geralt easily could have kept himself planted in place if he had truly wanted to, he allowed Jaskier to haul him up onto his feet and lead him upstairs. Such a short trip normally would never have affected him, but with a full stomach weighing him down, Geralt found himself panting softly by the time he and Jaskier had reached their room. Distracted by the unfamiliar feeling of his trousers digging into his skin so tightly that it was almost painful, Geralt had little time to react before he was suddenly backed up against the closed door and drawn into a heated kiss.

“Jask --” Geralt breathed, cut off abruptly by yet another kiss.

Clearly, he had guessed right. Jaskier did enjoy that display, even more than Geralt had been anticipating. Soon, Geralt gave up on speaking, and he yielded to the kiss, lips parting for a teasing swipe of Jaskier’s tongue through his mouth. There was a pleasant warmth against Geralt’s middle that he soon recognized as Jaskier’s hands, kneading gently through stiff leather.

“Look at you,” Jaskier murmured. Geralt bit back a dry remark about how it was difficult to do that with the bard plastered up against him. “You’re getting so big.”

A thrill ran through Geralt at that. He curled his hands around Jaskier’s slender hips and squeezed, drawing him in closer, and Jaskier gasped against his lips. In truth, Geralt did not look too terribly different than he usually did, but there had been a little tone of hopefulness in Jaskier’s voice, a subtle but unmistakable hint that he wanted more. The next few seconds seemed to blur together, but somehow, Geralt had ended up spread out on the bed, staring up into Jaskier’s darkened eyes where he had perched himself on Geralt’s hips. Jaskier’s usually agile fingers trembled with anticipation as he worked Geralt out of his armor, putting him on blatant display. Where he had once been all sharp angles and overly defined muscles, he had accumulated a small layer of padding, and most noticeable of all at the moment was the rounded curve of his belly, warm and full and demanding Jaskier’s complete attention. His hands smoothed over it, rubbing and exploring, interspersed with little appreciative pats and scratches.

“Knew you were doing it on purpose,” Geralt said. Much to his amusement, Jaskier actually looked shocked. “Weren’t very subtle about it.”

“Yes, well --” Jaskier paused, seeming to be struggling to decide on what to say. Eventually, he just huffed, then decided to deflect and taunted, “Are you sure you aren’t just a glutton?”

Geralt smirked. Without any warning, he rolled over, pinning Jaskier beneath him. He heard Jaskier’s pulse flutter. A heated fantasy sped through Geralt’s mind, thoughts of how easily he could subdue Jaskier, how much stronger and bigger Geralt was, how much deep trust it took for Jaskier to lay himself out so vulnerable for a witcher, a predator. Jaskier’s arms snaked around him, and his hands splayed out over Geralt’s shoulder blades. Geralt laid heavier against him and growled in his ear just to feel Jaskier squirm. Jaskier would be unable to get away even if he wanted to with Geralt’s full weight holding him down. Oddly, that was a deeply pleasurable thought, and Geralt had very quickly decided that he would take no issue with it if Jaskier wanted to keep feeding him, making him broader and heavier still, only further exaggerating that contrast between the two of them. If the way Geralt could feel Jaskier’s hardening cock digging into his thigh was any indication, they were in agreement on that.

“Going to get me something good for breakfast tomorrow?” Geralt purred into Jaskier’s ear.

Jaskier groaned, hooked his legs around Geralt’s waist to grind their hips together, and moved one hand to tangle into the witcher’s hair. His opposite hand snuck downwards, and he pinched at the slight, growing plushness at Geralt’s hip.

“Certainly. You’re just wasting away.”

Geralt’s mouth was far too busy then for any proper response.

#fic #prompt fill #HI THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE #thank u :)

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years ago

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 10

A/N: y’all ever think about that one empires episode of pearl’s where she helps sausage fight off a raid and that turns into a pvp battle between them, and she absolutely destroys him? yeah me too. also check out this awesome art by @amostfoolishgold! anyway back to jimmy pov!

Warnings: injury, unconsciousness, fevers, talk of death, violence, corruption/infection, self-blame

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The sun was nearing the horizon, casting the Overgrown in a golden glow. The castle was beginning to take shape, but they had unfortunately run low on materials, and Joel and Lizzie weren’t back from their gathering trip yet. So for the moment, they all just sat in the half-constructed shell of a castle, having light conversation as they waited for Joel and Lizzie to arrive. But soon enough, the conversation dwindled into an awkward silence. That is, until Gem stood up with a determined look in her eyes and a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we head to my empire for dinner? We’ve been working hard all day and could use a break!” she said brightly. Jimmy wasn’t sure how he felt about Gem quite yet, after everything that had happened- but she and Pearl had been a huge help. Meanwhile Shelby looked intrigued by the offer, and while Katherine first nervously glanced to the horizon, she looked back to Gem with a smile.

“That is very kind of you, Gem. I’d love to- we should probably just leave a note for Joel and Lizzie to let them know where we’ve gone,” Katherine said, standing up as well. Gem looked to Jimmy semi-nervously- and well, Jimmy was always a bit of a softie, wasn’t he? He smiled at Gem and stood up too.

“That does sound nice, thank you for inviting us,” Jimmy said. Gem beamed, and Pearl looked relieved as she stood up next to Gem.

“Well, you definitely won’t see me complaining about free food!” Shelby chimed in, hopping up to her feet. That caused the group to break into laughter, and the air between them felt comfortable again.

Once Katherine had written the note and put it where Lizzie and Joel could easily find it, the five of them (minus Pearl, who had wings) equipped their elytra and flew off to the Crystal Cliffs. When they first arrived there, everything seemed normal. The grand cliffs themselves, the buildings nestled in and around them, the towers- it was a beautiful and mystical place. But there was something blue, white, and gold that stood out in a heap on the ground near one of the buildings- a very familiar something blue, white and gold.

“Oh my god-” Gem started, landing on the ground beside the figure.

“Is that-” Pearl said, unable to finish the thought as she landed just behind Gem.

“Scott?” Jimmy finished, voice shaking as he came in for a bit of an unsteady landing a few feet away from where Scott laid on the ground, breathing shallow and upon a closer look, something red pulsing and spreading beneath his skin like some sort of vine. Jimmy barely registered Katherine and Shelby landing on either side of him, too focused on what was before him.

“This- this red stuff reminds me of the redstone spikes in Fwhip’s empire- or maybe something from the nether?” Gem pondered as she knelt beside Scott, a purple glow coming over her hand as she reached out towards the infection in his arm.

“I’ve seen that before,” Shelby said, voice sounding distant and laced with horror. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised to hear such a terrified tone of voice from the usually enthusiastic gnome.

“The infection?” Pearl asked.

“The corruption. I’ve seen it happen to my people back home, until it consumed them until there was nothing left- it’s why I came here, to try and find a cure or some way to stop it. But nothing worked,” Shelby explained shakily, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Jimmy felt like he was going to cry too- and some awful part of himself thought that he should be glad that this happened to Scott, that it served him right after betraying Jimmy and breaking his heart- but he couldn’t. Despite everything Scott had done, despite never wanting to see Scott again- none of that meant that Jimmy didn’t want a world where the winged elf wasn’t in it. And what about what Pearl had said? Scott didn’t seem happy with Fwhip either, but now Jimmy would never know the truth. Not if it died with Scott.

Jimmy was so wrapped up in his conflicted mess of emotions that he didn’t even notice that someone else had flown in until Katherine let out a sharp gasp. He tore his gaze away from Scott to see what had caused that reaction from Katherine- and saw Fwhip. A mix of anger and terror boiled in his veins and swirled in his stomach at the sight of him. Fwhip looked baffled to see so many people in Gem’s empire, and plastered on a forced friendly smile. Jimmy’s hand found Katherine’s, and she squeezed it back tightly with no intention of letting go.

“Gem! Hi, so I wanted to smooth things over- I think we left things on a bad note-”

“What did you do to Scott,” Gem demanded, cutting off Fwhip as she stood up from beside Scott. Purple sparks danced in the air around her, and Jimmy swallowed nervously- he didn’t think he had ever seen Gem seem so intimidating before. Jimmy was relieved to see that Fwhip looked nervous too.

“Well, I haven’t seen Scott since our meeting, he seemed upset when he left- weird that he ended up here- y’know I was actually gonna go and talk to him after you-”

“If by talk, you mean do whatever you did to Scott to us?!” Pearl demanded, hand on the hilt of her sword as she took a step forward to stand beside Gem.

“I didn’t-”

“I’ve had enough of your lies, Fwhip. What. Did. You. Do,” Gem said evenly. Fwhip swallowed nervously, before sighing and finally giving in.

“Okay, so I may have set a few traps in his empire and got Sausage to help me with letting a raid infiltrate his village and the surrounding lands- but I figured Scott could handle a few traps and some mobs, it was only meant to be a warning, I never meant to kill him! He must have really gotten soft if he couldn’t deal with it,” Fwhip rambled. Gem and Pearl seemed semi-satisfied with his answer, but Pearl kept her hand on her sword and purple sparks still danced around Gem. But there was something that Fwhip said that bothered Jimmy, and along with what Pearl had said… guilt was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you mean by that?” Jimmy asked tentatively. Fwhip let out a harsh laugh, turning to Jimmy incredulously.

“The idiot actually fell for you. He was just supposed to be a distraction, a contingency plan to make sure you wouldn’t be trouble. But he got in too deep, and look where that got him,” Fwhip scoffed, looking down at Scott’s deathly still form in disdain. Guilt was crashing on Jimmy in waves now. He had pushed Scott away. Scott had actually cared about him and he pushed him away. And then he had no one to go to for help when Fwhip decided to send a “warning” and got hurt as a result.

“You’re lucky I’m a pacifist,” Katherine spat, more angry than Jimmy had ever heard her. He wished he could have shared her anger, shouted at Fwhip too- but Jimmy just felt numb.

“Well unluckily for Fwhip, I don’t have that problem,” Pearl fumed, drawing her sword. Fwhip started to scramble back as Pearl leapt at him. His backwards stumble turned into a run, and Pearl kept pace with him just fine, using her wings if necessary and brandishing her sword to chase him away.

“Pearl can handle him- can you three help me get Scott to the apothecary? I’d do it by myself, but he’s tall and there’s the bulk of his wings to worry about too,” Gem asked, looking down at Scott worriedly.

“Erm- right, of course,” Jimmy said, letting go of Katherine’s hand to join Gem at Scott’s side.

“Hold on- go to the other side and help me turn him over,” Gem said. Jimmy did as she asked, and being mindful of his wings, the two of them gently rolled Scott over so he was on his back. Scott was feverish to the touch, and even unconscious his expression was contorted with pain.

“He’s hot,” Jimmy said, distant horror in his tone.

“Now isn’t the time for that, Jimmy,” Gem teased, trying to lessen the tension in the air. Jimmy’s face scrunched up in irritation as he half-heartedly glared at her.

“He has a fever, Gem,” Jimmy huffed. Gem laughed nervously.

“I know, I know, just trying to make this less terrible than it is,” Gem sighed. Jimmy gave her a weak smile, and together the two of them gently lifted Scott up. Jimmy ended up mostly holding Scott, while Gem supported his wings. Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder, labored breaths fanning his neck. Jimmy should have felt embarrassed or flustered, cradling Scott like this- but he was too concerned with how limp and unresponsive Scott felt in his arms.

“I’ll get the doors for you!” Shelby offered, quickly making her way over to the apothecary door. Katherine hovered around Jimmy and Gem semi-anxiously, making sure that they had a good hold on Scott as they made their way over to the apothecary. But all went well, and they were able to safely transport Scott into one of the apothecary beds. He had begun to shiver and tremble every so often now, and Jimmy could have sworn the corruption had spread, reaching his fingertips.

“There’s gotta be a way to stop that, or at least slow it down,” Gem murmured in thought, pulling up a chair to sit at Scott’s side. She reached out to the cut where the corruption on Scott’s arm stemmed from, hand glowing purple again. She closed her hand over it, and her eyes began to glow the same purple as her hand. But then the glow flickered, turning red for a moment before it dissipated entirely and Gem drew her hand back with a yelp, stumbling backwards out of her seat beside Scott’s bed. Jimmy scrambled over to help her up, eyes darting nervously between her and Scott.

“Is everything alright? I chased Fwhip off, but I swear if he’s done something in here…” Pearl trailed off as she walked into the apothecary, eyes zeroing on Gem as she rubbed at her temples.

“I’m fine. The corruption- it fought back. It’s… alive, somehow,” Gem said with morbid curiosity in her tone.

“It’s a type of fungus. That’s as much as my people could figure out before I came here to try and find a cure. The red stuff is everywhere in my old home- even if you tried to get rid of it, it would just come back. And in the cases where it latched onto a person… there was no getting it out,” Shelby explained, sounding like she was going to cry. Gem hummed thoughtfully.

“Did you try any sort of magic with it?” she asked.

“No, my people were not magic-users- in fact I’d hardly seen magic before I came here, where the air seems charged with the stuff,” Shelby replied, gesturing around her. A determined expression came over Gem’s face.

“Then I’m not gonna stop trying. I don’t know if I can fully fight off the corruption, but I definitely think I can slow its spread. In the meantime, we’re gonna need to get Scott’s fever down- at this rate, that’ll kill him before the corruption will,” Gem said, resting the back of her hand on Scott’s forehead and frowning.

“He’s probably a little beat-up too- Fwhip did say he trapped his empire,” Katherine added. Gem nodded in agreement.

“We’ll need cool water and cloth to make a compress for his forehead- and I should have some healing potions around here- it couldn’t hurt to brew some more though too, just in case,” Gem rambled, starting to stand up before Pearl put up a hand.

“You two stay here with Scott, I know where you keep things around here. Katherine, Shelby and I can worry about getting things for you,” she soothed. Jimmy tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, I can help get things too…” Jimmy trailed off uncertainly.

“You can help if you want. I just figured you’d wanna stick by Scott,” Pearl shrugged with a gentle smile. Jimmy flushed slightly as he looked down at the floor, away from Pearl’s knowing stare.

“I… yeah. I’ll stick by Scott,” he said softly, gaze shifting to look at the winged elf who always managed to make his emotions into a muddled mess. Scott was an enemy, a friend, a- a something, then an enemy again- but whatever Scott was to Jimmy now, he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting Scott out of his sight again. Doing so the last time caused this to happen. He had to be there if- no, when Scott woke up. He had to apologize for pushing him away, and hope that maybe Scott still cared about him after everything that had happened to accept it.

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

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#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shubble #katherine elizabeth #fwhip #flower husbands #aiahs #mcyt #sage writes

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lala-ladybug · 4 years ago

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Healing Hands: Chapter 7

Little bit of a filler, but we’ve got some fun shenanigans in store! >:)

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Chapter 7: Guys bein’ dudes indeed

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Marinette was up early again. She found herself some breakfast, then went to the stables. The Order had made it back late last night, so they didn’t have time to groom the horses. She entered the first stall and started to brush the first horse. The routine motion let her mind drift, and she thought back to the events of the past few weeks.

Marinette, Kagami, and Luka embarked on their daily ritual of collecting the morning paper from town. It was the day after they’d beaten the first boss, which they had reported anonymously. Marinette and Adrien had agreed that taking the credit would only serve to draw unwanted attention towards their group, which could put them and the rest of their friends in danger.

But it apparently had another unforeseen advantage. As Marinette paid for the newspaper that highlighted their victory, she heard comments from other players around her.

“Are you serious? Some party went rogue and beat the first dungeon on their own?”

“Selfish assholes, can’t believe they got all that loot to themselves.”

“Well I think it’s good that we’re making progress!”

“Yeah, if you ignore the fact that they didn’t tell us what it was like at all, so now we haven’t got a clue how to face the next one.”

She shook her head in disbelief and glanced at her companions, who looked similarly concerned. They hadn’t even considered that the other people might not want them to take up the battle alone. Or that last comment, that they were actually hurting the other players by not giving them the chance to fight too.

The three remained quiet until they returned to Chloe’s house, or the manor, as they’d taken to calling it. By then, Adrien and Chloe were awake, and followed without question as Marinette ushered the two to join her, Kagami, and Luka out by the well.

She told them what the people in town had said, Luka and Kagami jumping in with additional comments they’d heard from passersby, and they talked it over. Maybe it was worth fighting with other groups. It would certainly beat the first boss.

They decided to try working with others for the next dungeon, but to lead the battle so that the civilians would stay as safe as possible. There were already groups in town recruiting for it and people exploring the second level, so it couldn’t be too long before they found the next fight. They’d be ready this time, they thought.

Less than two weeks passed before they were ready to take on the second dungeon. The Order had spent the whole time training and leveling up. There was hardly a moment where they weren’t fighting monsters or sparring with each other. They became almost more adept with their new weapons than they were with their ones from the real world. Those days of miraculous encounters seemed a lifetime ago.

The Order made preparations with other groups of players, determining strategy and planning to play to each others’ strengths. All the parties assembled at the dungeon and set up to fight the boss.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. The support teams kept all the fighters’ HP high, and they had whatever cover they needed whenever they needed it. The battle was significantly shorter with around forty players there. But when the other players got hit....

Marinette could still hear the screams of the civilians as they went down. The blood oozing from their wounds was so very lifelike, and there was no cure to sew them shut. Or bring them back if they fell.

Kagami and Adrien were focused on taking what would have been killing blows if the boss had struck anyone but them. Chloe and Marinette drew fire away from the other players, and Luka used his mace and shield to defend his fellow healers. But Marinette saw the pained look on his face at being separated from the rest. She relived the moment Kagami and Adrien went down while fighting the first boss in frequent nightmares, and she knew Luka did too. The two of them had shared a few too many late-night cups of tea while avoiding sleep.

They won the battle, but there were so many wounded, so many close calls. One look at her Order and she knew they felt as lost as she did. Was it worth it? The thought seemed to echo through each of their movements as they returned to the manor.

“Marinette?” Alya’s call shook her out of her daze. She looked down at her hands and saw that she’d finished brushing the last of the horses. Putting the brush away, she returned to the main space in the downstairs of their home.

Home. She supposed that’s what it was now, but it didn’t feel like it. The design of it was very cozy, there was no doubt about that. But she saw it as little more than a place to eat and sleep. There were far more important things she could be doing, sitting down to relax was out of the question.

“There you are,” Alya grinned from the kitchen. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in days!” She carried a simple charcuterie board into the living/dining area and placed it on the table. Nino, Adrien, Lila, Alix, Nathaniel, and Luka were already sitting in the various couches and chairs gathered around it.

“We were just about to have a snack and play some cards,” Alya said over her shoulder as she used a poker to encourage a small fire in the hearth. “You should join us, girl!”

Marinette’s gut response was to refuse, and she waved her hands and made excuses but Luka and Adrien got up and marched her over to sit next to them. “C’mon Buginette, you need this,” Adrien said quietly in her ear. Luka just gave her a meaningful look.

Over-protective mother hens.

She sighed and gave in. One afternoon of cards couldn’t hurt.

Nathaniel was on her other side. While Alya dealt out the cards, Marinette asked him, “How’s the garden coming along?”

His face lit up with a quiet joy. “It’s going great! I don’t know if the weather is going to change, but the onions are taking nicely!” She listened with a small smile on her face as he went on about the different crops he was planting in the garden. He’d really stepped up to grow the bulk of their food, and seemed to genuinely enjoy spending his days taking care of the plants.

She was glad that he could still talk freely to her, even in the game. They’d always been close and it was nice to see his artistic spirit was unbothered by... everything.

Adrien nudged her to play her turn, and she did so quickly. Across from her, Alix and Nino were laughing at something Lila had said, and Alya sat up proudly with a comment that made them laugh even harder.

On Adrien’s other side, Luka had his hands of cards facedown on his lap while he strummed a lute he’d bought the other day. The pleasant melody lifted her spirits and reminded her of happier times.

This is what she was fighting for, she realized. For Nathaniel to take pride in his art, for her dear friends to laugh, and for Luka to play his music. She blinked away the tears that rose in her eyes. This is what was worth fighting for.

Even if she couldn’t bring herself to sew, to create like she used to love doing. Here she just had to be Marinette the friend or Marinette the fighter. It was almost easier, having less to manage. And yet... she couldn’t feel that same joy for herself that she found so precious to her friends. Not until they were all home again. She couldn’t let herself.

* * *

Jason trudged into the base, pack digging into his shoulder with all the loot he’d recovered. He’d spent the past few days camping and level-grinding, which was apparently the correct term for it. He couldn’t even remember what Dick had said to set him off, but he needed to be on his own for a while. The woods were surprisingly peaceful, and he found the time spent by himself in nature to be refreshing.

“Hey.” Dick sounded pissed. The hell was his problem? Jason wasn’t even back long enough to do anything. Jason turned on his heel and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Dick thrust a newspaper into his hands in response. He folded his arms, clearly expecting Jason to read it right then and there. Jason sighed loudly and slung his pack off. He turned his attention to the paper in his hand.

“Coalition of over forty players defeats second dungeon,” he read aloud. Shit.

“Just thought you should know,” Dick said in his I told you so voice. “When you went on your little adventure, you missed the next boss fight.”

Oh, now he remembered why he left! Because his “brother” is an asshole. “My little adventure was to get experience and level up,” he glared at Dick. “Which is still doing something more productive than just sitting on my fuckin’ hands.”

Dick’s nostrils flared. Good, he was itching for this conversation. “We are not doing nothing. We need more time to practice with the gameplay. Hell, Gar still tries to shift when we spar!” He threw up his hands in frustration. “We’re nowhere near ready yet, Jay.”

“You know, there’s more to this game than fuckin’ sparring.” Jason retorted.

Dicks brows shot up. “Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who so desperately wants to get back to our lives that he runs off on his own.”

“I can’t stand being cooped up in this damn house all the time! Just because we’re stuck in this game doesn’t mean we have to stop living,” Jason shook his head. “We’ve already been in here for over a month, who’s to say how much longer it’ll be? We can’t just put our fuckin’ lives on hold the whole time.”

“Training to beat the game isn’t putting our lives on hold,” Dick rolled his eyes. “This place is a death trap in case you forgot. We need to train to get our lives back.”

This idiot just didn’t get it. “Oh sure, and in the meantime we can’t have any happiness or fun. Sounds pretty miserable to me.” He picked up his pack. “You can level up without training at all hours of the fuckin’ day, no matter what a certain black-haired, blue-eyed bastard says.”

Jason stormed out the door, bumping into Garfield on his way back outside. The kid stumbled backwards before pointing finger guns at him. “Nice alliteration!”

He ignored him and kept walking down the path that led into town.

“Hey, hey wait a minute!” Seriously kid? He heard that argument with Dick but still couldn’t take the fuckin’ hint.

Garfield caught up to him and said, “You know, for someone who was supposed to have a relaxing vacation, you sure look tense.”

“Fuckin’ excuse me?” Jason growled.

“Wh-what I mean is you’re probably looking for a way to burn off some steam!”

This was getting old. “Get to the point, kid.”

“On the third level, there’s a quest we can do to make our own guild!” Garfield bounced excitedly, keeping pace next to him. Well, a quest would certainly help get this new brotherly stress out of his system. “We want you to join us, pleeeeaaaase?”

“Hold up, who the hell is us?”

Garfield grinned at him. “Oh you know, just a couple of the guys.”

They’d reached a junction in the path that led to the main road. Waiting beneath the tree beside the signpost were Roy, Jaime, and Bart. The ex-speedster waved excitedly while Roy looked about as pleased to be here as Jason did. They got along swimmingly.

“Hey dudes, everyone cool if Jason joins us?” Garfield reached out to pat his back then hesitated as he thought better of it.

Jaime shrugged while Bart gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Roy gave him a pitying look, like he’d been dragged into it too.

“Fine.” Jason muttered to no one in particular. “Are we heading out now?”

The other four got their things together. Jaime sent out party invites to everyone to better keep track of each other, which Roy and Jason reluctantly accepted. Garfield pulled up a pamphlet and started leafing through it. Jason spied the title, The Good Adventurer’s Guide to Guilds. Lovely.

“Alright,” Garfield snapped the papers shut and started walking down the path into town. “Let’s go to level three and get this bread!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “The quest is to retrieve some bread?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, no but yes! But no. Man, we gotta teach you slang,” Bart slung an arm around Roy’s shoulders. The latter pushed him off and Jaime sped up his pace to plant himself as a buffer in between them as they walked.

Dumbasses.

The walk into town was easy, and they used the teleportation kiosk in the town square to get to the third level without a hitch.

The third level had some more interesting terrain than the plains of the first and second levels. Cliffs and quarries dotted the landscape in front of them. The main town itself was built onto a cliff, a gaping valley splayed out before them with minute details.

“Oh wow,” Garfield said. “This reminds me of that one town in France where--”

“Don’t care. Let’s move.” Roy cut him off and stalked down the winding road that would take them down into the valley. Jason smirked and followed suit.

Garfield made a face, then followed them along with the others. He pulled out his pamphlet again, then pointed them in the direction of the quest. Some quarry worker NPC wanted help collecting materials. If they got him everything on his list, he would apparently grant them the rights to start a guild? It made less and less sense as Gar read aloud from the paper.

They trekked on for a few hours, easily hacking apart the common monsters they came across. Between Jason and Roy, the others hardly had time to draw their weapons before the threats were gone.

“What’s better than this?” Garfield put an arm around Jason and Bart’s shoulders. Jaime grinned and put his arms around Bart and Roy. “Guys bein’ dudes!” He finished.

Roy, Bart, and Jason exchanged mystified glances. Roy and Jason had been out of the loop for roughly the same period of time, and Bart had told them before that not much of contemporary pop culture had survived into his future.

Guys bein’ dudes indeed.

Between the five of them, gathering the listed materials and getting them to the worker by sundown was easy. Well, it was easy for most of them.

“You look like a mess, ese!” Jaime exclaimed, seeing a very sticky and scratched-up Garfield. He groaned and replied, “Had to get tree sap. Trees fought back....”

Well, that served the little shrimp right, Jason thought to himself. He and Roy had been collecting gemstones, which could be mined out from the caves littered throughout the floor... or the infinitely more fun way of killing giant gemstone monsters. Take a wild fuckin’ guess which one they chose.

Jason was actually pretty content with the levels he’d gained from the quest. Not to mention getting his excess anger out from talking to Dick. It seemed like whenever he went to the house, there was always some type of disagreement between the two.

Damn. Maybe he should start saving for his own house.

His party currently stood in line at the guild registration office, also located on the third level. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the valley, highlighting the small clusters of houses dotting the countryside.

“Oh crap,” Garfield suddenly said. He danced nervously on his feet. “We did the whole quest, but I forgot the most important thing!”

Roy looked at him sharply. “What’s wrong?”

“We need a name for our guild!” Garfield wailed, clutching his hands to his head.

Seriously? Roy scoffed, “Why not just Justice League?”

Jaime rounded on him. “Are you nuts, ese? We can’t go around calling ourselves the Justice League. Secret identities and all that.”

Garfield paced in line, clearly thinking hard. “Hmm, justice. Juuuuustice. Just-ice. Just ice! Hey, we could do something with that!” He exclaimed.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah that’s great,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How about On the Rocks.”

Bart put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “Well, we should add a little pizzazz to it, don’t you think?”

“I’ve got it! Rocky Road!” Garfield threw his hands in the air triumphantly. God this kid was excessive.

Jaime and Bart, after the former had explained it to him, voiced their approval. Roy and Jason looked at each other and silently commiserated over their unfortunate situation.

Rocky Road it was.

* * *

“Ugh, that was way harder than it needed to be.” Alya slumped over her battle axe.

Marinette giggled and offered her friend some water. “Well, a ton of other people are starting guilds too! So I guess there are limited resources for a while.”

Nino took the water from Alya after she’d finished with it. He drained it and looked heartbroken until Adrien handed him a new bottle.

The four of them had decided to team up and do the quest to establish a guild. Not everyone in the guild needed to attend the quest to establish one. So when Alya and Nino had approached Marinette and Adrien, asking if the original friend group could be the ones to do it, they couldn’t say no.

“Well, I just wish Marinette had told us about the quest sooner. Then we could have had an easier time!” Lila simpered, sweet as ever. Oh yeah, Lila had invited herself to come along too.

“Weren’t you also a beta tester?” Adrien frowned innocently.

Lila blinked, looking startled. “Oh yes! But you know about my memory issues. I really wish I could remember all these things to help us out,” she sighed dramatically. Typical.

“So!” Marinette decided to move that conversation right along. “We need a name for our guild. Got any ideas?”

Nino rubbed his arm. “Actually dudes, I’ve been thinking of a name for a while.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Adrien smiled and nudged his best friend’s arm.

“Well, I was thinking we could be called Miracle Workers,” Nino began. Marinette traded a look of alarm with Adrien. “You know, because Alya and I used to be miraculous holders? And I thought it’d be kinda nice to honor Chat Noir, Ladybug, and the other heroes. We could use some of their strength right about now.” Oh, that was actually really sweet of him. Marinette offered Adrien a soft smile.

Alya looked at him fondly. Adrien, with a slight nod of approval from Marinette, gave him a side hug and said, “I think that’s a wonderful name.”

Lila tapped her chin. “I don’t know, workers seems a little odd to me. We’re more like leaders or executives.”

“Well, I think Miracle Workers is perfect, babe.” Alya leaned in to peck Nino on the cheek. “Let’s go with that.”

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#jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic #healing hands

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poliel · 4 years ago

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Surprise Egg: 8/13: Eggabell

Unsurprisingly striding back into town with Eggabell caused a commotion. Not even five minutes passed between her walking into town and everyone gathering to speak to her. There were many questions about Lizbert and what had happened to her all of which Eggabell deftly avoided and then quickly stopped via stating her reason for returning being to examine the egg more properly.

Apparently, it was Gramble’s turn to pouch it. He happily rushed over to give it to her. Buddy turned to leave. Since they were still stuck here they might as well go hunting for everyone and search more for the Snaxsquatch too while they were out. Before they could even pick which direction to head out in though…

“Hey Buddy,” Filbo said as he came up next to them, linking an arm through theirs. “It’s been a little while since we spent an evening together, you want to hang out?”

“You just want me to stick around so Eggebell can examine me before going back to Frosted Peak, right?”

“Huh? No. She only said she’d do that if you let her. I just want to hang out because it’s been a little while and I’ve missed you.” His faux innocence was cute and honestly would’ve been convincing if they didn’t know better due to the fact they’d just spent almost the whole day together climbing the mountain then coming back down. Not to mention this was the same tactic he often tried to pull when he wanted them to take another break once outright asking had started to fail. And like every other time he would either drop it with a sad sigh if Buddy persisted or would push the issue until one of them gave up.

Buddy sighed. “Fine.” The attempt at opening the stone doors failing meant that they had stuff they needed to catch up on in their journal anyway. … And they were tired. No amount of rest really made them less tired so there was no point in it a lot of the time but if it made Filbo happy then they’d put up with it. And they liked spending time with him too so why not?

“The egg’s underdeveloped,” Eggabell said as she poked her head into the hut after not evening bothering to knock before opening the door. “I don’t have the tools to determine anything more than that but I don’t think it’s fatally so, no thanks to a certain someone trying to give themself hypothermia and frostbite while carrying it.” She gave Buddy a pointed glare which was undeservedbecause they hadn’t known and hadn’t been trying to give themself anything of the sort. “The grumpling’s going to hatch small and probably weak too but with proper care I think they should be all right. But you guys aren’t in charge of it so that’s really all you probably want to know, right?”

“Yeah, thanks for telling us. Now uh….” Filbo trailed off.

“You want me to do Buddy?” She looked at them again. She’d already made it clear on multiple occasions that she was concerned about them but, like with her previous attempts to get them to do or not do something, if they refused she’d probably go back to looking for Lizbert without much of a fight. But…

“Fine.” With a sigh, Buddy flipped their doodling journal closed and extricated themself from the bed and cuddling into Filbo’s side. “But make it quick.”

“I intend to.”

Doctor visits and examinations were always the worst with the ice-cold stethoscope and all the prodding and the poking. Not to mention the invasive questions and ‘how would you rate your pain/discomfort?’s. There were two bright sides here though; she didn’t poke them with any needles and she had a salve to put over their various burns, making those spots at least feel better almost instantly – if they’d known such a thing was in her medical bag, they’d have stolen it long ago as they’d be doing from here on out.

“You’re malnourished and not recovered from giving birth in such a state,” she declared after what felt like forever.

They hopped off her makeshift examine table set up in the front part of her and Lizbert’s hut. “Shocking. I never would’ve guessed.”

She frowned at them. “I don’t know what your hang up is about not eating bugsnax but I suggest you let it go for the sake of your health.”

They’d have gladly given up their initial hang ups with it if they could. “I can’t. I’m allergic.”

“Oh! Uh… that’s really bad. How allergic are you exactly? If it’s just a mild rash or something it might be worth it to just suffer through it at this point.”

True and if that was the case they’d have done so long before now but… “I ate one and then spent the next few hours in outhouse.”

“Oh hmmm… definitely don’t then because in your state you could easily die from that.”

Buddy had not even considered that. All the more reason not to partake because that was not how they were going to die if they could help it.

Eggabell sighed before continuing. “You should probably go home then. Bring Gramble and Shelda with you too if you can. I know Gramble’s not going to want to go and probably neither is Shelda but…”

“No. I’m not leaving until I’ve interviewed Lizbert or we find solid proof she’s dead.” That made Eggabell flinch but Buddy didn’t care enough to apologize. “So not until we open the stone doors.” They’d find Lizbert, her remains, or no sign of her which would likely mean her body was buried in snow somewhere on the mountain.

With that said, Buddy turned to go. If they got out fast enough, they might even be able to leave town without Filbo noticing and trying to guilt trip them into resting for the rest of the day. Before they could do much more than open the door though…

“You know, you’re a lot like Liz.”

Pausing with their paw still on the doorknob, Buddy looked back her. “What do you mean?”

“Stubborn and passionate with a high tolerance for pain and discomfort but most of all stupid. You don’t ever pause to think about how being reckless and hurting yourself affects the people who care about you. Except you’re even worse about it than Liz ever was. Your body’s going to quit on you if you keep this up for much longer. You could die.” She’d started speaking in a calm tone but ended making exasperated gesture towards them.

“Well then, all the more reason to get those doors open as soon as possible.” Because they weren’tleaving until their story was done, they could hold on for that long at least. Speaking of opening the doors though… “You should ask Triffany for help with the stone door puzzle. She’s good at that kind of stuff.” They’d suggested going to her for help to Eggabell once before and got a vehement ‘no’ but the situation was a bit different now so…

Eggabell glared at them, doubtless mad about the change of subject but ultimately sighed – no matter what, she still cared most about finding Lizbert and that was easy to exploit. “No, I… I can figure it out myself.”

“Now who’s being stubborn?”

“I uh… you’re right. I’ll ask her. But you…” she walked up to them to poke them lightly in the chest, “need to go rest, okay? Until the stone doors are open you need to be sitting around doing as little physical actively as possible, got it?”

“Got it.”

She held her stern gaze on them for a couple seconds longer before they turned away and led the way back outside.

Buddy stood and watched as she headed for the research tent where Triffany could be seen working on something. As soon as Eggabell reached it without looking back at them, they glanced over at the freshly lit campfire. Filbo was there but he didn’t seem to have noticed Buddy coming out with Eggabell. He was distracted talking to Wambus and Chandlo. It was the perfect opportunity to slip away.

So, after sneaking over to Filbo’s hut to retrieve their pack they were headed off for the Scorched Gorge and Sizzling Sands. If they were lucky maybe they would actually find the Snaxsqautch this time and then return to learn that key to opening the doors had been found. Meaning they would be able to finish their story and finally go home and eat real food again. They could only dream.

***

Buddy slipping off unnoticed and without saying goodbye while Filbo had been distracted from waiting for them was not the least bit surprising at this point and he should’ve been on the lookout for such an attempt. But that didn’t make it any less disappointing or worrying especially after interrupting Eggabell and Triffany to ask for Eggabell’s general assessment of their condition. They should be resting and taking it easy as much as possible but instead they were off doing who knows what?

And there wasn’t a single thing Filbo could do about it. He didn’t even know where they’d gone, making going after them hard even if he’d stood much of a chance of convincing them to come back and rest – once they were out of town there was no getting them to come back until they wanted to. So he just put on a positive attitude and went on his rounds around town, a lot later than usual because he’d spent the bulk of the day climbing up and then back down Frosted Peak but whatever. He checked up on Floofty to make sure they were okay after the whole almost cutting their head off for science thing a few weeks ago. And Wambus and his garden. Gramble’s ranch and everyone else with their various things they were doing or working on. He inquired after the egg too of course. He still felt a bit weird about how it was biologically his but the relief of not having to be in charge of it and the little life within far outweighed that feeling. Besides it seemed to make those in charge of it happy and that was good to see.

The town really was starting to knit itself back together. And even if Eggabell wasn’t going to stay for much longer she was still back for now and interacting with Triffany and some of the others again. Now all they needed was Lizbert here and everything would be back to how it was before. Or actually, better because everyone was starting to get along more than even before they’d split. Some of that was centered around those caring for the egg but it was also just in general amongst everyone. It was very good to see, filling Filbo with that fuzzy warm feeling of wanting to get everyone into a group hug or something. He wasn’t going to push it though.

It was all mostly thanks to Buddy, getting everyone back and then helping with everyone’s problems. … The only downside was that they were running themself half to death while doing so and factoring into that was them having carried the egg unknowingly for months. They were really amazing and wonderful… he was worried about them. Nothing he could do about that right now though so…

Shaking that off for now he looked up at the others gathered around the campfire which was almost everyone in town except for Eggabell and Triffany. Even Floofty and Snorpy were here even if they weren’t likely to stay long, they never did. “We should have another party,” he said, drawing everyone’s gazes to him.

“Another one, really?” Beffica said though she didn’t sound quite as scornful as she used to when questioning his ideas. Progress was being made there too!

“Yeah. Almost everyone’s back now. So I was thinking we should celebrate. It’ll be fun.” And a party would be a good way to get Buddy to rest in town a little more. It could also act as an informal farewell to them since they should and would hopefully finish their story soon, allowing them to go home. Whether Filbo was going to accept their invite and go with them, he hadn’t decided yet but he had until they were actually leaving to make that decision. “So what do you guys say?”

There was a general murmur of agreement to indifference about the idea. No one was enthusiastic about it but that was fine, once the party actually started, they would all hopefully be more into it.

“If we’re going to do this party thing,” Snorpy spoke up over everyone else. “I need some time to make some uh, special party lights for uh, partying purposes.”

“This request has to do one of your ridiculous conspiracy theories, doesn’t it?” Floofty said, giving him that look that almost always led to an argument between them.

Before he could respond and make that argument a reality, Filbo spoke up cheerfully as if he hadn’t picked up on any of that tension. “We could use some cool party lights!” If doing whatever he was going to do the lights would make him feel better about attending the party than Filbo didn’t care. “So it’d be awesome if you could make some special ones for us. How long do you think that’ll take?”

Floofty rolled their eyes but didn’t say anything. Snorpy looked nervously their way for a couple seconds before looking back at Filbo – argument successfully averted, thank goodness! “A few days should do, no more than a week for sure.”

“Awesome! Let me know when you’re done and I’ll start setting everything up.” And maybe he could get Buddy to help with that too. While it wasn’t proper rest it would still be far more restful than running around after bugsnax and the Snaxsqautch had to be so it’d be worth to ask them.

#my writing #bugsnax #filbuddy #filbo fiddlepie #the journalist #eggabell batternugget

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has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong · 4 years ago

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Celebration

In which an unexpected servant congratulates my mastersona for both passing their Mage Exams and helping Gudako complete yet another singularity!

(The true backstory is that I recently finished all of my essays, my thesis and exam- so thought I should treat myself by writing a fic to commemorate it!!! YIPPEE!!)

Staring blankly at the spotless ivory walls looming above their head, Seihai frowned. Listlessly plonking yet another slice of pizza into their mouth, they flopped onto their bed.

‘What the heck do I do with my life now?’ At current, Chaldea had lapsed into a week-long festival, due to everybody successfully completing yet another singularity.

As a result of this, Gudako managed to rouse the entirety of Chaldea into a tremendous partying mood; in which servants were blasting sparklers at one another; Liz was hogging the speakers to blast out her latest hit tunes; and the Chaldea kitchen was overwhelmed with both chefs as well as hungry customers.

Although Seihai did actively partake in some of the activities, and was overjoyed to see Chaldea enveloped in such joy, a gnawing sense of unease still tore at their stomach. Even though today was the dawn of Chadea’s first ever Nightclub Party- a day that Seihai had been dying to experience- said anxiety made it all but impossible to enjoy it.

‘I’m not in the mood to party anymore,’ Seihai languidly flicked through the television channels, eventually landing upon yet another battle anime. ‘I dunno...It feels like the victory’s hollow or something...’

In Seihai’s eyes, the one who did the bulk of the work during singularities were Gudako, Mash, the staff and their servants. When it came to Seihai’s own place in this war; they had no idea in hell where they belonged. Besides from offering support, assistance, and lessening the load on Gudako’s shoulders- by providing mana to servants that Gudako hadn’t the energy to supply- they were naught but a small bit-piece in the war.

Clutching their fists -as a character on the television behind them began to yell, they contemplated the box of pizza sitting before them.

As a treat for also passing the Mage Association’s rather convoluted, and extremely unnecessary Online Mage’s Exam with flying colors, Seihai had more or less begged Boudicca to make some pizza- so that they could celebrate on their lonesome. Lifting the glimmering slice towards the sky, Seihai smiled wryly.

“Congratulations, me. We’ve fought hard. Let’s not let the negativity beat us today.” Before they could chow down on the beautiful, tantalizing slice- an array of golden sparkles invaded their vision, as they choked on their slice.

‘H-HOLY SHIT!!!’ Slapping their back, they managed to slide the slice back out again, only to be distracted by a horrendous clunking noise; as Seihai’s room shook like a tornado.

Only one person would enter their room like this.

Spinning their head to the side, they take sight of the king’s pernicious smirk; his red eyes sparkling with impish glee.

“G-Gilgamesh....You sure as hell caught me off guard this time.” Sighing audibly, Seihai rubbed their crimson red locks of hair. “Why don’t you like to knock before entering?”

“You would ask one as mighty as I- the King of Heroes- to knock on your measly door before entering?” He looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. “Have you lost your mind, by perchance?”

“I feel like we’ve gone through an argument like this already.” Helping themselves to their feet, Seihai attempts to look him in the eyes. “I tell you ‘Yes, you should knock’, and then you go ‘you foolish cur! The king shall never knock before entering! It’s my right!’ or something like that.”

“Well, there you have it. Although wisdom initially evaded that tiny brain of yours, you’ve finally conjured up the answer to your own enquiry.”

“Hey, my brain isn’t tiny. I just can’t keep up with you sometimes.”

“If you’ve managed to fool yourself into believing that, then who am I to disagree?” Whipping out a decadent golden throne from a rippling gold portal, he places himself by Seihai’s side. “Now, I’m here to depart a word of wisdom. Listen carefully.”

‘W-Wait, he’s here to talk?! Why?!’ Utterly bemused by this turn of events, Seihai felt compelled to burst into laughter. ‘Oh shit, hold it in! Hold it in!’ Last time they laughed at the king; Gilgamesh threatened them with a thousand deaths. “Er...You want some drinks? Food?”

“Hoh...I’m glad to see that you retain enough honor to serve your king. However, the food of mongrels isn’t to-” As soon as Seihai pulled out an assortment of global snacks, Gilgamesh’s words caught in his very throat.

“Fine. Pass that one. On the right.” A look of embarrassment briefly flickered across his features, as he coughed lightly. “Don’t hesitate, mongrel! Pass it, post haste!!!”

Seihai smirked proudly at that. ‘Hehe, that’s payback for you being so damn rude! Can’t look down on my global snack collection, huh?’

Keeping such thoughts locked firmly within their mind, they pass Gilgamesh a vanilla twinkie. ‘How amusing...Gilgamesh, the arbiter of all pleasures; owner of all the items of the world, is a fan of snacks like twinkies...’ Seihai would most certainly make a note of this later on.

As they both settled down, munching down on an assortment of foods- Gilgamesh cleared his throat, his expression as hard as stone. “Mongrel.”

“Hm?”

“What ails you, to be avoiding a festival as grand as the Chaldea party? I’ll have you know that even I have no choice but to approve of its splendor.”

Seihai’s mind boggled at this. Was he inquiring as to their health? Lowering their head, Seihai mumbled a tiny “Well, you know...I’m just not in the mood. That’s all.”

“That’s all? I hadn’t taken you to be such a bore.”

“Well, that’s not really my problem; you know. Sometimes, I can be boring as hell, and today’s just one of those days.”

“Mongrel, Chaldea’s been renovated into a sparkling nightclub. A nightclub.” Gilgamesh placed heavy emphasis on the word ‘nightclub’. “And yet you still manage to profess that you’re ‘not in the mood’?! Whatever happened to that mongrel that wouldn’t stop dancing in the canteen the other day?” Gilgamesh looked truly offended, as if Seihai had broken a sworn covenant or something.

‘Wait, what the hell?! He caught me dancing in the canteen? FUCK!’ Seihai grimaced at this. “W-wait, Gilgamesh. How the hell did you catch me dancing?!”

Ignoring Seihai’s question, Gilgamesh continued to complain. “Don’t you understand? A night as dazzling as this may never happen again. I declare that you enjoy it to the utmost, before everything disappears.” He had an excellent point there. Life was all but fleeting, a translucent kaleidoscope of effervescent events. Who knows when all of Chaldea may breathe their very last breath?

“Okay, I’ll admit you have a pretty good point there.” He definitely did! However, Seihai was yet to be moved by his advice. “However, I don’t feel like I’m worthy enough to join...I messed up so many times during the last singularity....and it took me quite a few tries before passing the mage exam.”

“So, you’re a fool then.”

Before Seihai could leap up in outrage at this statement, Gilgamesh silenced them with a flex of his golden-plated hand. “However. Albeit being a fool, you’re a determined one; who fights for their own cause. And as the King of Heroes, I must acknowledge that such actions are actually worthy of merit. Therefore, I shall not allow you to wallow in such pathetic self-misery! Celebrate your achievements with all of your might, mongrel- and REJOICE!”

Eyes widening with awe, Seihai’s heart sung with joy at his words. Spirit roused, they gawped at him in shock. “W-what...?!”

Did he just praise them? Gilgamesh offering praise? The world must certainly be ending soon. Looking around them, to check whether they were dreaming- Seihai was completely befuddled. ‘Of all the people to come and cheer me up when I’m feeling sad...How the heck did he end up being the one to do so?!’

“Fuhahaha! You look as if you’ve transformed into a fish! How utterly amusing!” Gilgamesh’s shoulders trembled with laughter. “You heard me clearly, mongrel. Even fools such as you have inherent worth. Now go out there, and rejoice!”

“Er...well, thanks Gilgamesh. That was kind of you to say that.” To see one’s own failures as a bastion for developing success...Seihai was taken aback by Gilgamesh’s perspective on things. However, it was much appreciated. “I do like hearing your titbits of wisdom.”

“Don’t grow too accustomed to them. I shan’t hand them out willy-nilly, you know. Now, rise to your feet; so that we can descend upon the dancefloor!”

“Haha, that does actually sound like fun. Thanks again, Gilgamesh.”

“Don’t get too conceited, mongrel. I’m only offering you alms for this particular occasion.”

As Seihai chuckled at this (as Gilgamesh obliterated their bedroom door with a flying kick), the two rivals (Friends? Enemies? Who knows, really), made their way to the festival.

The End

WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. THIS WAS MUCH MORE FRIENDLY A FIC THAN EXPECTED. ALSO, I AM CERTAIN THAT MY MASTERSONA AND GILGAMESH WOULD BE LIKE ARCH ENEMIES BUT THEY ACTUALLY GOT ALONG????????

#gilgamesh #fate series #mastersona #my writing #gilgablog #ok ye i wrote something selfish okay ye i did but i am bad at celebrating so idk i thought itd be funny to put gil there

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catflorist · 4 years ago

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The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 3: marked

Sakura was right. He did not see the ocean the next time he slipped. The world was ending.

The ground beneath him shook. A boom sounded in the distance, followed by screaming. Sasuke activated his Sharingan. Through the thick smoke, he glimpsed five faces carved into a mountainside. A voice, hoarse from shouting, was calling Naruto’s name. He weaved his way through the wreckage towards Sakura, desperate to glean when he was. Sakura whirled. No diamond marked her forehead. She did not look much older than him. Sasuke’s breath caught. Konoha would be destroyed within the year. “Sasuke?” she cried. “Go!” “What’s happening?” he demanded. Her eyes widened. An ear-shattering rumble drowned out her words. The watchtower next to them was collapsing. Sasuke dodged the deadliest debris, but something heavy and sharp caught his temple. He fell to his knees, blinking stars from his vision.

A cool shadow fell over Sasuke’s face. He looked up in time to see the tower tipping over above him. In half a breath it would crush his bones. Sakura’s fist collided with the structure, splintering it apart.

Sasuke lifted an arm to protect his face as chunks of wood, stone, and tile rained down upon them. Sakura straightened, her shoulders heaving. She stood tall and firm against the reddened sky. “It’s not a good time, Sasuke,” she said over her shoulder. Sasuke would have made it away, but Sakura had taken no chances.

Pins and needles pricked his fingers. Sasuke’s lungs no longer burned with smoke. Sunlight poured into the living room of a small apartment. In the distance, birds chirped.

Sakura swept into the room, wearing a pink dress and a diamond mark. “You’re bleeding,” she exclaimed. Sasuke touched the slick trail of blood flowing down his face. His head felt fuzzy.

“Can I heal you?” An unexplained wound would trigger Orochimaru’s suspicions. “Fine,” he resigned. “Sit down,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” Sasuke sank into the cushions of Sakura’s couch. He could not make out the titles on her bookshelf. Sakura returned with a bowl of water and a cloth slung over her shoulder. “Is this all right?” Her fingers hovered near the side of his face. She waited for him to nod.

Her hands lit with green chakra. She touched her fingertips to his temple. Sasuke did not know where to look, so he stared at his hands. The warmth of her chakra soothed his aching skull, clearing the dizziness from his head. Sakura wet the cloth and dabbed at the blood on his face. As she moved, the aroma of lavender floated from her skin and hair. Sasuke frowned. In the past, he had appeared before Sakura halfway through her breakfast. He had woken her up in the middle of the night and just finished distracting her in the midst of battle. But only now, smelling her carefully applied perfume, did he feel as if he were interrupting. Not that it mattered.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I slipped…” Sasuke paused, but Sakura did not look confused. Apparently, she knew his terminology. What else would he tell her? He continued, with a glare, “Konoha was under attack. You were there.” Sakura lowered her hand. “I remember now. That was a year ago.” “What happened to the village?” “Do you want to look for yourself?” Sakura gestured to the open window.

Sasuke could not understand why she was so calm. He crossed the room and looked out.

Minutes before the village was in ruins. Now there were no signs of destruction. Konoha was cheerful in the afternoon sun. It was the same village Sasuke remembered and yet it was not. Colorful rooftops shone with fresh paint. Streets followed a loose grid, when before they wound and tangled together. The street sign design had changed, but the shape of the streetlamps had not. It was a Konoha constructed from memories, from dreams. From behind, Sakura said simply, “We rebuilt.” Sasuke turned. “The Uchiha compound…”

“It’s safe,” she said. “Untouched.”

“Why did you show this to me?” “I thought this was important for you to know.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t have curtains.”

Sasuke’s ears rang with the sound of Sakura screaming Naruto’s name. “How’s the dobe?” The question lacked subtlety, but he needed to know. Too late, he arranged his features in a scowl.

A smile played on Sakura’s lips. She smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’m going to see him right now.” As Sasuke exhaled a quiet breath, Sakura grimaced. “Actually, I’m late.” Sasuke bristled. Every time he encountered Sakura, he left with more questions. Meanwhile, nothing he did ever fazed her. He had materialized in her apartment and bled on her couch and she did not bat an eye. And now she would continue on with her plans for the day—plans that involved Naruto, perfume, a pink dress. “Don’t let me keep you,” he jested. “You look nice.” He was not lying. For once Sakura was speechless. Sasuke did not think he imagined the flush rising to her cheeks.

His stomach twisted in satisfaction. He felt the urge to crack her cool composure again. “I know things about you that you don’t know yet,” he taunted.

You’ll go to the sea. You’ll be waiting for something. You’ll have a child. He almost wanted to tell her right then, to see how she would react. When Sakura smiled, Sasuke realized his blunder. “I know things about you, too,” she said, gentle and steady, like a promise. Sasuke wished he could stay, to unravel what her expression meant. But he jerked back to his time. His chamber was not empty. A pale face gleamed in the dark. “You’ve been lying to me, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru cooed. He smiled mournfully. “Where do you go all these nights, when your chakra signature disappears?” He edged closer. He smelled sickly sweet, like rotting flowers. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” A cold bead of sweat trickled down the back of Sasuke’s neck. It was now or never. “I don’t belong to you,” Sasuke said. “I won’t be your vessel.” Orochimaru’s eyes iced over. “It is not up to you,” he hissed. He rolled a lock of Sasuke’s hair between his fingertips. Growling, Sasuke swatted his hand away. Rage, determination, and strength erupted in his chest. He lunged towards Orochimaru. Halfway between his first and second step, Sasuke knew he would win the fight. Orochimaru’s essence decomposed and bled into his own. Sasuke left and did not look back. . . By the time Sasuke assembled his team he was well past seventeen.

“We are now Hebi,” he informed Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo. “Our purpose is to locate my brother Itachi. After we find him, I will kill him.” They stopped by the abandoned city of Sora-ku to visit Nekoba and gather supplies. Near the outskirts of the city they set up camp and prepared to cook their first hot meal in weeks. “Oh, Suigetsu?” Karin called. Suigetsu was wrestling with his knife, half-sunken and stuck within a head of cabbage. “Yes?” “Are you good with the sword?” Karin tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, gesturing to the Executioner’s Blade propped up against Suigetsu’s belongings. “I’d say so,” he said, smiling under Karin’s attention. Grasping the knife handle, he hit the cabbage against the cutting board and managed to hack it in half on the third strike. Karin scowled. “Then why can’t you handle chopping a vegetable?” “What’s wrong with my chopping?” he complained. After years spent at the Kusagakure hideout, Sasuke had grown accustomed to stale air, torchlight, and long stretches of solitude. Now he was surrounded by bodies eating, bickering, and snoring near him. It was an adjustment. “I don’t know where to begin,” Karin said. Sasuke opened his mouth to plead for their silence, then stopped short. He held out his hand for the knife. “I’ll do it.” Suigetsu conceded, and Sasuke took his place. He peeled away the wilted outer leaves of the cabbage and sliced through its bulk with fluid movements. “That’s some fancy knifework,” Suigetsu said, as Sasuke made quick work of an onion and flew on to the garlic. “I didn’t know you could cook.” Sasuke scowled. “Of course I know.” Every shinobi knew how to feed themselves. He yawned into his shoulder without slowing the movement of his knife. “But not like that,” Suigetsu said. Sasuke put down the knife. A mound of delicately sliced vegetables trembled on the cutting board. “Aa,” he acknowledged. “How did you learn?” Karin asked. Sasuke didn’t answer. He had learned from time spent in a neglected, dim scullery at the Kusagakure hideout. From fending for himself in his Konoha apartment as an Academy student. From watching his mother. They continued on with preparing their meal. Jugo tended to the rice and Karin added oil and garlic to the pan heating over the fire. Sasuke sounded a tsk. “It will burn if you add it now.” Karin, normally timid around Sasuke, scowled and tightened her grip on the handle. “No, it won’t.” The garlic burned. Sasuke wisely did not say a word. As they ate, Karin said, “I blame Suigetsu,” ignoring his cry of protest. Jugo offered Suigetsu a sympathetic look. “You’ll do better next time,” he reassured him.

Sasuke held back a smirk. It was all an adjustment. . . Sasuke found himself pinned against a wall of rock. Itachi trudged towards him, but Sasuke could not move, could not go on for any longer. Itachi smiled, the same smile he reserved only for his brother, and brushed his fingertips against Sasuke’s brow. His hand fell away, then his body fell without making a sound. Sasuke’s vision tunneled. He slumped to the rocky ground. His mind was merciful, and granted him unconsciousness. When Sasuke stirred, he was lying on tatami. Without opening his eyes, he rasped, “He’s dead.” Sakura said, “I know.” With ginger movements, he shifted to sit up. But there was no pain. His wounds were already healed. Sasuke’s body shook. It was over, and all he felt was a gnawing absence. He did not see the face of the murderous killer that haunted his nightmares. He only saw the way his older brother’s solemn eyes used to crinkle as he tapped Sasuke’s forehead and promised, Maybe next time. The normal passage of time never applied to Sasuke. Now it slowed to a halt as he sank into grief, unable to name what he was mourning. After an eternity, Sasuke became aware of a strange noise ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes.

Though he did not recall moving, he was clenching Sakura’s hand with all his strength, so hard it must have hurt.

Sakura’s head was turned to the hall. The tiny wail did not stop. It was a sound he had not heard since he was a child, surrounded by dozens of aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children. A baby was crying.

“Forgive me,” Sakura whispered. She gently untangled their fingers, and Sasuke nearly whimpered from the loss of her touch. She returned with a dark-haired baby and sat next to him. “Yours?” The question rose unbidden to his lips. Sakura didn't respond. Then again, Sasuke wasn’t sure if he had spoken aloud.

The baby blinked serious eyes. In his delirium, Sasuke saw Itachi. His dead brother looked at him again through the new life in Sakura’s arms.

Sasuke shook his head, but the baby still wore his Itachi’s eyes. His own eyes. “Yes,” Sakura said. “She’s mine.” Sasuke’s head spun with vertigo, and he knew his time with her was almost done. He fought to cling to consciousness, but it was too much.

As his vision darkened, something caught him. The floor rose slowly to kiss his cheek. On the edges of his awareness he heard a voice. “It’s going to get harder.” A cool hand smoothed the hair from his brow. “You’ll need to be strong.”

Sasuke woke up again in a cavernous, dark room. The warm, grassy aroma of tatami was gone, replaced with the funk of mold and stale water. “Sakura?” he whispered. His hope was short-lived. When he sat up, metal clinked. Chains grew out of cuffs on his wrists, restraining him to the wall. A mask floated in the air, as orange as lava, spiraling like a seashell into a singular opening above the right eye. “Who is Sakura?” the mask hummed. Sasuke flinched. The mask drew closer, until torchlight revealed the cloaked body to which it belonged. It was Tobi, the cowardly Akatsuki member, but it was not. “Who are you?” Sasuke said. The light in the room flickered. The figure said, “I am Uchiha Madara.” Sasuke learned the truth about Itachi and the Uchiha massacre. Sakura had not lied. Everything became harder. Madara did not give him a moment to think, to process, to mourn, before he said, “There is something else.”

Sasuke could not bear anything else.

“You bear the mark of a powerful doujutsu. The Rinnegan,” he breathed. “After I found you, your body disappeared. When you reappeared, your wounds were healed.” Madara’s eye flashed. “You went somewhere else. To a time that is not your own.” Blood pounded in Sasuke’s ears. “The wielder of the Rinnegan may cross barriers in time and space. Already, time ripples differently around you. You are marked. One day you will possess its power.” “How do you know this?” Sasuke asked. The shadows in the room bent towards Madara. “Because I am also marked.” Sasuke finally knew something about his future, the cause of the time-slipping he had experienced his whole life. But there was no pleasure that came with the clarity. He was a container filled to the brim with water. He couldn’t hold anymore. “When you disappear, where do you go?” Madara asked, a curious lilt to his voice. “The ocean,” Sasuke replied, fixing Madara with his darkest stare. “Where do you go?” The eye beneath the mask narrowed. “The Rinnegan’s mark reveals, across all time and distance, that to which you are tied.” Sasuke was tired. “Where are my teammates?” They were clustered by a cliff overlooking the ocean, robes flapping in the breeze. Leaving Madara behind, Sasuke made his way to them. He sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the earth. Without a word, Karin, Jugo, and Suigetsu shifted their bodies to shield him from Madara’s probing gaze. Surrounded by their protection, Sasuke’s face twisted up. His body shuddered with silent sobs.

Nothing in this world looked the same now that he knew the truth—from the lines of his own hands, to the dying sun shimmering upon the water. This time, diving into the ocean would not end his nightmare. Once he could speak, he said, “We are now Taka. Our mission is to destroy Konoha.” Sasuke had witnessed Konoha’s destruction with his own eyes. It must have been him. The expressions of his teammates faltered. “What did he tell you?” Karin wondered, as Suigetsu stammered, “Are you sure?” Sasuke’s fists clenched. “Don't question me,” he snapped. When Madara extended an offer to join the Akatsuki, Sasuke accepted. . . . .

Up next: Sasuke has some more choices to make. He grows closer to seeing Sakura in real time.

Notes: Look up the story of Ninigi and Sakuya if you'd like to see some of my inspiration for this story, and specifically why everyone is thinking about the ocean (besides the fact that I wanted to write Sakura chilling by some tide pools).

Heads up that all interactions are consensual and age appropriate in this fic. I also envision Sasuke to be 18 in the next chapter. (Fun fact: I wrote an angsty smut scene that didn't make it into this story, but maybe that scene will appear elsewhere on its own or in another work, lol.)

Thank you for reading!! The response to this fic so far has blown me away. My favorite comments are all the people saying they want to live by the ocean now (same), or that they are reading this fic even though it's rated T and they love smut too much. You're all amazing!

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

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last-on-your-lips · 3 years ago

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Perception (pt. 2)

Its not that it’s hard for a mage to use destructive magic, really. Focus hard enough on anything and it’s liable to break apart when you command the very fabric every element is built on. Magic in our world is that intrinsic, so potent and present that technology all but has to be built around it with cooperation between Mages, Drakes and Alchemists alike.

Talin fancied herself as a healer, and I knew that even when I asked what I did of her. Mum’s not much for breaking things at all. Repairing shattered ceramics is one of her hobbies, actually. She’s very sentimental like that, and I could see her have to set her jaw when she turned her eyes on the ramshackle town we’d been a part of as long as I could remember. This was the place I had learned to talk, these were the homes of our people. It didn’t matter that they were small and easy to rebuild, or that few who lived there owned more than they could have carried out. Mum had spent most of my life half-employed as the doctor to the Draughters of Infirili, and she was sentimental.

When she began her cast I had the privilege of my new sight to tell me that she glowed like the bloody sun from the crown of her head down to the center of her chest, coalescing the energy of her sentimental grief and her disgust with the necessity of the action into a softly spoken evocation. The tips of two of her fingers touched her lips as she spoke, the power she called focusing to a point of light visible to the lame and frail as well at the end of her claws. Mum was never one to waste time with her spells, so it was a simple gesture of extending her arm and opening her hand that flung that spell to the town from where she stood. I knew to brace for the heat that would come. Our frail passengers didn’t.

One moment a prick of light flew loose of the ship, no larger than a shooting star against the night. There was a brief silence as the energy bolted deep into the hard trod ground beneath the huts and shacks, and next there was a vicious rumble from the ground before heat billowed out ahead of a voracious flame. The structures weren’t all that hard to destroy, of course, but the shockwave was enough to flatten the marsh grass and hide the hoofprints and footprints all the way to the tree line. It also sent a flush of heat and force to flutter the battalion standards, and I could see the march come to a halt at the impact. Mum radiated with her fury below, her eyes narrow and focused behind us on the forces we were avoiding as I tilted to cut into the trees, following the scent of the other evacuated draughted and the drakes leading them.

I was surprised at how well the ship balanced as I had to switch to climbing through the forest, usually only needing me to mind it with one massive forepaw or by the tip of a wing as I transferred between trees. I’d have to ask Kyn if it was designed for that when I put it back down… which seemed like it might come sooner than I had anticipated. I would have to adjust to covering distances so confidently with my new mass and form, I was used to the forest feeling impossible to travel in the night as a human. I contemplated how I had moved so many miles on little rest and less food as I half slithered down the trunk of the tree Talin and I had established our home in the base of, the natural place for me to return to as it was the only relatively secure part of the forest with enough space to accommodate for the very suddenly displaced crowd of exiles.

The moment the hull touched the clearing I had painstakingly maintained by spear and effort, there was a calamity of questions tumbling over each other out of the mouths of sore footed mothers, sobered fathers, and collected tradesfolk that had understandable frustrations about abandoning the small shops they’d managed to accumulate. Natural and reasonable fury and confusion, if louder than I liked as Kyn was unthreading the line from my chest and Mum was unboarding the folk we’d carried out and shepherding them into the husk of the great trunk. I caught complaints about potential livestock losses and upset over losing the small place we’d had for longer than any other Draught community were known to have maintained a place. My body language was blank, and my gaze studied and counted the faces of the children first, then their mothers, then their fathers. Then I sought out the tradesfolk, counting to ensure the strongest of them were among the bodies escaped from the town. After my assessment I made a low bellied rumbling noise, and the calamitous fury turned to hesitant silence.

Kyn spoke before I could, as close as the town had to a leader. “We all knew this was coming, get hold of yourselves! I dunnae what ye thought Talin meant when she told ye that her child was a dragon, or why ye ignored her if ye were going to shout about it now.”

There was a rustle of discomfort through the crowd of displaced friends, eyes averting and pouts settling onto faces as they were chided for their vocal frustrations about the disruption to their night and life. Many arms crossed and chins pointed up in familiar guard and defiance as Kyn stood on the rail of his ship between them and me to speak his piece.

“Ye can all like it or nae, but this is what ye were told when ye moved in. Ye should be grateful we got out ‘fore some folk that didn’ much mind us surviving cleared us out to piss Faern here off.” The words were certainly not as delicate as I would have said myself, but the life that many of my friends had lived had been rougher than Talin had given me. And Kyn certainly wasn’t wrong that I would’ve been less composed to see them dead. “We’re here for a day or two. Get some sleep, we work tomorrow. Got horses to catch in the morning an’ shoes to put together before we get us moving on.”

At his dismissal many eyes had gone from fury to steel, acceptance that this was indeed the lot they’d chosen when they came to Infirili. I admit some guilt lingered in the back of my mind, knowing I was the cause of displacement and loss. Although mostly I was relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t been what I had found when I arrived. While the crowd distributed into the clearing with less heated grouching, Talin came back out to us looking much calmer than she had going inside. She was concerningly loaded down with maps and her bestiaries, however, and I recognized her planning face. Perhaps when I was younger I should have paid more attention to her and Kyn when they had their late night plotting sessions drawing on maps and conspiring about exactly what local wild animals could be caught, bribed and purposed for companionship and protection to humans.

I counted myself rather lucky that it was then Kyn’s lover looked over, the scathing squint of her slit blue eyes enough to send a chill down his spine and put a pause in Talin’s step as she had to glance over her shoulder to find the source of the prick against the back of her neck.

Asyla was a massive woman, someone who had kept me in check during some of the more physical outbursts of my gangly teenage years. She was a draught drinker from the westernmost continent, Ophelim. Her draught, you ask? Well she was given Serpent’s Draught. And with it she was adorned with a venemous bite, speed unlike anything that belonged in the bulk of someone as direct in their intentions as she was, and eyes not unlike a pit viper. The pretty pattern of pale silver, off white and almost black scales that decorated her back and her forearms in intricate diamonds was something she liked to display with pride by way of sweeping open backed dresses, although I was a bit stunned to see her skirt knotted over her hip to show the muscular length of her legs was similarly patterned along the outside of her thighs and down shins and calves where her drake hide shorts didn’t cover.

This stunning example of woman was also making a direct path through the disgruntled population of her lover’s town with a look on her face I could only describe as terrifyingly focused. On me. Mum and Kyn put themselves in her way with a cacophony of placations and pleas, begging the walking tank to wait a moment and think before she started in on me. Naturally they were shrugged off as Asyla stalked around The Hull and made herself a wide stance in front of my lowered head.

“’Appy blas’ed bir’day to you, innit?” Her voice it’s usual broken hiss past the disfigured fork of her tongue, not quite managing to form all the complicated ‘T’ or ‘H’ sounds in common.

“Another year. Not another disappointment.” My growl answered as I dropped my weight down, curling up with my wings and tail in tight. “Feels different.”

“Sure should.” A nod of agreement as her hands rested on her hips and she appraised the sheer scale of the difference between what she knew and what I’d changed into. Kyn and Mum seemed baffled that I wasn’t being yelled at. “Wha’ now?”

“Make sure the family is safe first.”

“Alrea’y done. Wha’ now for you Faern?” Asyla always did have a directness no one else showed toward me.

“Finish what they started. Try not to get turned into a Draught while I do it.” My ambition wasn’t going to be a secret, I wanted to see if I could accomplish it in Hocrayle. A camaraderie between Drakes and humans anything like the cooperation happening on the other continents.

“’Ey’re real busy bein’ ‘Uman ‘ere.” Her opinions therein laid out in so few words, although I could tell that she didn’t particularly doubt my determination and abilites. “Figh’in’ isn’ goin to be much like wha’ we’ve done before. Ere’s like to be whole armies.”

“Not trying to do it looking like this, auntie. I want to try and learn from Kyn, take the wings back off and look more personable on the way.” I could feel how naive she thought I was when her arms crossed and her head tilted into her scowl.

“Wha’s the plan, kid.” Demanded more than asked. Rude of her really since the only plan I had come up with was find all my parent’s contacts and figure out exactly what it was they’d been doing before they decided to start an entire war. About that… I realized under my aunt’s discerning stare I had no rightful idea where to begin looking for those contacts. Or how to approach them. Or what to expect if I did find them. All I knew was that Talin wasn’t the only Dragon Draughter that Urthylo and Rhaekson had some kind of contact with before I was born, and I had the newly learned ability to spot draugthed by the way they looked different from other humans. Until Asyla questioned me that felt like a lot to work with.

“Find the Draught Dragons that Urthylo and Rhaekson were conspiring with and figure out what they were doing to help relations between Drakes, nations and humans?” My voice managed to be an infuriatingly uncertain whine.

“Big questions.” Kyn cut in there, his voice heavier than usual, and his pale golden gaze more direct when he pointed it at Asyla. I was surprised to see that she backed off. “We can get those answered. What ye going to do with ye answers?”

“Unite Hocrayle the way drake and dragons are united on the other continents.” This was stated with a confidence all three of my more practiced adults shot down by the angle of their quirked brows. Having said it out loud I also understood how unlikely it seemed that a single influence might achieve that between six unfriendly nations and an extensive wilderness untouched by common humans. The other continents operated as massive and united nations, sharing the same laws and general systems of function across their whole land mass rather than disrupting into countries. This was made possible by their kinship with their local drakes and the cooperation of the Dragons that were incorporated into the bodies of their governments and nobility. Dragons and Drakes were a part of other societies because they maintained station among those societies. Talin had been purposeful in teaching me about how those politics worked, and informing me on how dragons were regarded across different parts of the world.

Hocrayle did not value dragons as part of their government, because Dragons had been tyrants to the humans until they suddenly vanished from the population entirely centuries before my occurrence. In four hundred years many common men and nobles alike had lived and died, and so the six nations had specialized in their ideals and budded into independent philosophies and borders. Into conflict and animosity, and into an age of Alchemy rampantly afflicting people by the hundreds with experimental Draughts.

Asyla was an example of more lawfully applied Alchemy, in Ophelim they only adorned the few and mighty with Draughts. And of those draughts there were only three, The Lion, The Wolf, and The Serpent. Noble beasts that augmented loyal and noble people, and a Draughted from her continent was to be expected as educated, disciplined and in control of their beast. It seemed to me that was likely how the elixirs had been meant to work when they were designed, a kind of initiation and accomplishment to allow humans to gain a deeper understanding of the the rest of their world. Asyla, direct as she ever was, embodied the patience and the gravitas of any viper I’d ever met at least. She also showed that it was possible for a Draughted human to be reasonable, educated, resourceful and respected. Things that were uncommon to see in the nations of Hocrayle.

“Well. Ye want to learn to change the wings back off first, yeah?” Kyn broke my spiraling depth of thought, bringing my eyes to himself and inspiring an earnest bob of my head. “We’ll get that done for ye, and talk more on changing the world when ye aren’t a great lizard.”

Talin sat by Asyla and watched the lesson on transformation as the earliest hours of the day’s turn made little more noise than the uncomfortably light snoring of her friends camping haphazardly around her home. She’d prepared for this over the years. There had been blankets waiting, and food for the little ones. Even a handful of cots she’d built to see the aging folk and lame limbed of the exile town into. Faern had kept their ‘lawn’ clear with enough room for every hardened body now laying on it to doze. She’d expected all of this, really. Yet while she watched Faern struggle to wiggle all the scales off themselves (this being a slow process that Kyn seemed utterly fascinated with and ill equipped to help) she wondered if she could ever have been prepared enough for their future.

Their friends were right, the young dragon was naïve in their ambitions. Not necessarily wrong in wanting to understand what each of their ill-fated parents had been trying to accomplish, and not even wrong to want to see some kind of friendship between humans and drakes on their natural born home. Even without being wrong, they were estimating themselves against nations of humans who only knew of Dragons as legends of practical enslavement. Given how Hocrayle worked without the dragons… She couldn’t honestly come up with a good argument to bringing them back, or turning her well meaning child loose into a world that considered them as an ingredient first and a person sixth.

“Try that water gathering spell I taught you.” Suggested as she watched the scales that had just been shed reform from the low rolling fog under their belly for the ninth time. The fog was thinning from all the water that Faern hadn’t realized they were drawing in yet.

Kyn didn’t like what happened when that suggestion was made, the pale white streak of magic travelling along the dragon’s spine as they gathered up the energy and focused it toward their horns. Talin realized belatedly that she probably should have let anyone in town know that their favorite harmless dragon knew fundamental direct magic, and had mastered the manipulation of most of the natural elements at a frankly alarming scale. That could be handled later though. She focused intently to watch how the spell began to unweave the massive body that Faern had grown into, the water from the creek they’d absorbed on the mountain top gathering as tail, scale, claw and wing withered and swirled into the mass. A few focused moments and the slender frame of her child with eyes closed was levitating fully nude at the height their horns had been, the odd glow of pure magic making them painful to look at.

She appreciated the style of the next spell that they chose, watching the gathered element surround Faern anew and change it’s density and structure until it made a decent impression of their usual hunting garb. This was something a mage couldn’t have done in a thousand years of study, and only a mad alchemist would try with nothing but their own focus to depend on. Talin had taught it to Faern anyway, after decades of obsessive research into the old Tyrant Dragons. The old dragons had been able to transform at will from their royal robes, and after painstaking research she had found no remnants or records of seamstresses or looms or fabrics that made it possible for them. It had actually been one of Faern’s own theories that the tyrants kept their element under an elaborate glamour in order to ease transitions. And immediately after they sealed this spectacular spell as proof they opened their eyes and dropped down to glare at Kyn where he was fastening his britches back on.

“Explain the Indemnic boat, Kyn. That kind of technology is rare here, and insanely expensive to build–” The tangent was cut short, to Talin’s amusement, when Kyn squared his palm across the full plane of Faern’s face. She had to respect that Faern tried to start an interrogation with an exhausted Draghted.

“Ye can bother me for it in the morning. Ye need to eat and ye need to sleep. We got much to do, and people to feed and move.” She couldn’t argue with his logic, although Talin certainly felt like her child was asking important questions of him. When they looked to her she gave a gesture toward the branches above where the Drakes they’d met the day before were anxiously perched.

“If you want to stay up, go settle them down. Kyn’s right that we should rest while we can. We don’t know how long that fire will burn and we don’t know if they had their own magicians in that battalion.” Talin endured the seething squint of her child’s eyes, and heard their frustrated grunt before they pulled back from Kyn and stalked over to the tree. They chose to leave by climbing up the bark with a refreshing new lack of restraint.

“I’m not explaining it to ye either, Tal.” Kyn’s first words when the rustling leaves over their heads began to settle down and indicate the drakes had been led away.

“Don’t want you to. You’re Indemnic yourself, known for a long time my friend. You need to get the engine right for tomorrow, we don’t know if Faern will carry the raft as far as it needs to go.” Talin appraised Kyn and how he reacted, almost laughing when he seemed surprised she would’ve recognized his towering frame, mahogany skin, and distinct accent as foreign to the short, narrow and pale national residents of Hocrayle.

“Kyn, your surname is Arseilles.” Asyla helpfully contributed from where she remained on a mossy cushion beside Talin. As his mate and an Opheli Serpent it wasn’t surprising she’d bait him. “Anyone with a Mage’s educa’ion would know you’re from Indemnis by lookin’ of you. Jus’ fix the ferry for the folk who aren’ tryin’ to save the world.”

“I’ll fix the boat in the morning. Tired from all that morphin’ I did for no reason.” Gruff and with a pointed look to Talin. “My hands’re too shaken to do the work without a rest. Could’ve had them try the spell first, Mage.”

“Could’ve told Faern you weren’t from Hocrayle when they were younger too.” Talin gave a nonchalant shrug and adjusted her shirt at the shoulders, her focus pointedly directed to her friend. “And you probably should have. Because Sire Itun is the drake that Faern’s gone off to chat with.”

“Itun is alive? Wait. Itun was– Shit!” The panic mounted utterly late into her friend, although she managed not to laugh at how he began to scan the branches above them searching for the now distant drakes.

“I suppose we’re all in for a long sit ‘n speak in the mornin’.” Asyla’s input as she rocked to her feet and offered a hand to help Talin up. “Explanations are wanted for, and ‘ey said who should say them.”

“Let’s all hope it goes better in the morning, shall we?” The Dragon Mage’s word on the matter as she saw herself into her house, leaving the lovers to do as they liked on the ferry for the few hours they’d have before the sun, and the Dragon themself, returned.

#Windscorn #Faern & Talin: Dynamic Duo #we are over 7k words into this arc and we are not done #writeblr #When I finish this arc I'm making a masterpost and should have my patreon set up

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finaldestination-3 · 3 years ago

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When he got the okay to come and help them with their current project, he did not know what to expect. The invitation to come over and bounce ideas back and forth did sound promising though. It kept the boredom at bay by giving him company and something for his mind to focus on. And it was late enough where everyone was doing their own things in their rooms instead of gathering together to make a noisy crowd. Some may have even been in bed, which was even better. He hadn't yet formally met their family so it was better not to be present in their company just yet.

Though, it was unclear just how long he'd be staying and what exactly the two would be doing when they were done writing for the day. It didn't matter in the end. As long as he was kept busy and not left alone he'd have no argument to make. And they for sure were indeed good company. When he got there, the two holes up in their room to work on their project at their own speed. He would offer ideas when asked or when he noticed them seeming stuck on something.

Watching them now, he could see the gears had stopped turning in their head as they were currently chewing on the non business end of their pen and looking stumped so he spoke up. "I think he should be able to turn his lover back into a man with a kiss. You'd kiss a rabbit, right?"

"A rabbit maybe. A hare, no. Those things look like they can see into the darkest parts of your soul." They chuckled, removing the pen from between their teeth and setting it down. "I don't need something with long ears that can hear your heartbeat and eyes that can peer into the abyss anywhere near my face."

"Maybe you're right." He huffed, wracking his brain a bit. "But how else can he get his love back? Surely one kiss will be safe enough. I think."

"I want to believe you. And maybe it'll be okay, it's his funeral not mine."

"Actually it's his wedding instead of yours. Because they will have each other once the hare turns back into a man. No one dies today."

There wasn't much left of this story to go and they were determined to finish it within the next few days. They called him here today to get the bulk of what was left out of the way in a way that felt like it made sense. A tale of two lovers that keep having trouble being together so one is turned into a hare that must be protected from all who would try to harm it. It seemed like an odd way to spend time with your dearest one, but they made it work. And the one who was still human spent the meantime clearing the way for them to be together with no more obstacles. All that was left was to turn his lover human again and then seal their union forever.

"Let him kiss the hare and then they can be together from then on as they were trying to all along. It sounds like a good plan to me and you should go with that."

"Okay, but I'm gonna make it a pain in the ass trying to find a way to make him a man again. One last trial before they get their forever."

"Aren't you a romantic." He teased.

"Wouldn't you like to know." They teased right back good naturedly.

The reply caught his off guard but he quickly dashed the concept from his head because it wasn't what he was here for. If they planned on dragging out the transformation back, the two of them would probably be up for a few more hours yet. Good thing he wasn't tired even if it was getting extremely late. How were they, though? Eventually they would hit the wall and have to pass out. What of him then? Would he have to go back home?

If he did have to go home, it would probably fine because he never went anywhere without protection. And not enough dangerous stuff went on around here even late at night for it to be a concern. As long as both of them eventually got some sleep he would be okay with it all. They had already taken their nightly dose of medication so that was also one less worry. Really there was nothing that was nagging at him so he resigned to enjoy his brainstorming session with his best friend. If either of them got hungry they could also make something simple to eat while taking a break from the work.

So the pair ended up working well into the night, taking a few breaks to stretch and to eat and use the bathroom, not paying mind to the time. Before either knew it might had started to deep into the room through the large window opposite the wall their bed was next to. Kouta had been so engrossed in what was going on that he barely noticed. When it did hit him, he became aware of a tiredness setting in to his entire body before anything else. Crap. He had to get home before he ran into any of the other Naras living here.

"Hey. Hey, Shin." He began.

"What's up?"

"I think it's morning already."

"Shit. Lost track of time." They set down their pen carelessly, it rolling into the ground, and shot up to their feet. Bad move. A little head rush hit them then and they had to take a second to right themselves. "Got too into it I guess."

"I should probably head out soon so I don't have to explain to your family what I'm doing here or why I've been here all night. Also I think I'm going to sleep for the next 15 hours."

"Hmm." They made a contemplative sound. "Maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"I don't think anyone is really up yet. You don't have to rush home that fast. Stay. For now, I mean."

He shot them a look. "Don't give me that. You should sleep too. We were up all night."

"That is true, but it's not as bad as you think. I think we might even get lucky. Usually Shisui leaves for early missions or duties before the sun is really up so he shouldn't be an issue. Mom, I don't know, but there's a small chance she will be out too. And we don't have to worry about Sai or my sisters."

To him is sounded like excuses...but for what? Their sleep deprived brain must have been on overdrive. He knew he had to go so both of them could actually get the rest they obviously needed. That was clear. But part of him did wish he didn't have to trek home and pass out only to wake up gods only knew when to figure out how to entertain himself later. But he couldn't just stick around here and bother Shin all day like he did last night. The back and forth internally was beginning to make his head hurt.

"Me, home. You, stay here. Both of us, bed."

"Or we can cut out the middleman and just rest here. There's a chance no one will bother me or you. Why not risk it?"

"What kind of logic is that? You've been up too long."

"Stay." Their voice was turning firm but not forceful. "It's safe, I promise."

Sighing deeply, he knew he would not be able to talk sense into them. And that part of him he wasn't sure how to address wanted to believe and trust him. Maybe the sleep haze was clouding his judgement but it could always be worse. So he watched as they stretched thoroughly, yawning afterwards, and made to sit on the bed before flopping back on it with arms splayed to their sides. He went to stand over the bed now, to their side, and gave them an uncertain look.

"Care to join me?"

"Why do I listen to you. You're going to get me maimed, I just know it."

"The pillows are whispering your name. Come on, it's comfortable."

Every nerve ending was firing conflicting signals in his brain right now. As he peered down at them, dark eyes locked on orange ones, he had no idea how to feel. It did look comfortable and did feel like it was calling him. Bed was bed. He'd slept in weirder places before. This was his best friend, someone he trusted, even if it was a strange house to him still. He could just catch a couple hours of downtime here and then drag his ass home for more when he didn't ache all over. So with trepidation, he sat gingerly on the bed and kept his body stiff.

"Relax. It doesn't bite." They lazily waved one arm in the air. "I might though."

"Do that and I'll bite you back. Hard. Also take your binder off this time."

"Never gonna let me live that one down, huh?" They sat up then, ran one hand through their hair, and lifted their shirt over their head.

If he could go any stiffer, he would have. He knew his request was legitimate but the thought of being here while they complied made his brain shut down a little. Kouta had no idea what to do as he stayed frozen in place and they removed their shirt, flinging it into a corner without a care. That was probably a mistake. The thoughts were running wild in his head so thoroughly that he didn't notice them turn their back fully to him until they spoke again.

"Would you be okay helping me with this? If not, that's okay, I can get it."

"I..." He stuttered. "You probably shouldn't have thrown that shirt away like that..."

"Shit." They cursed. Good point."

But they made no move to go and get it, which perplexed him further. He could fetch it if they asked. Why hadn't they asked? He looked at them again and saw they hadn't moved. Maybe that sleep haze had set in too deeply. Maybe it had for him, too, because he found his hands moving slowly of their own accord until they rested on their back where the binder's zipper rested. This was insane. He had been asked something so simple and yet it seemed like the most difficult task he had ever been given. His fingers lingered on the zipper a few more moments before carefully beginning to drag it down. They tensed under his hands then for just a second and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I'll get the shirt in a minute, I promise. Don't worry about it. That was me not thinking."

The words hit him but he barely registered them. As he slowly brought the zipper down, he was sure he was going to wake up and find this all to be a fever dream. He'd be home in his own bed and not helping his weird friend not sleep in their binder again. But once the zipper was fully undone he still did not wake. Instead he watched their back as they gently pulled the thing off, this time setting it on the floor next to the bed, and then got up to get the shirt. They pulled it on hastily and then made their way back to lay next to him, grinning once more.

"See? Problem solved. Thank you by the way. Remind me to wash that thing later."

"No...no problem." He choked out, still reeling. He hadn't even seen anything incriminating but it had still shortcircuited his thought process.

"I think you need sleep more than me, you look dead right now."

"Yeah, I think that's it." He replied and scrubbed a palm over his eyes. "Let's go with that."

"You okay?"

"I will be. After I've been dead to the world for a little bit." He shook his head, feeling dragged down, and spoke groggily.

"Then you should get started on that. Come on, before the sun gets too high and makes it hard to fall asleep."

"Okay..."

Warily, he allowed himself to lay down fully and found himself very comfortable. The bed was decently sized so both of them had plenty of space. Really, what was he worried about? It would be fine. In a few hours the two could get up and carry on just like normal. Maybe he could even help them like this again, but not for so long next time, if they needed. He liked the sound of that. It all sounded so ideal in his head and the combined comfort of his resting position began to pull him from the waking world. It did not take his friend long to pass out and he knew he'd be following soon. When they woke up, they could deal with this. Until then...sleep called his name.

~~~~~~~

Entering the house casually, Shisui surveyed the place and deemed that something felt off. Nothing was happening in the spaces where normally someone would be occupying. He knew his wife had taken their younger children to the market for groceries earlier so that explained their absence. Sai was a mystery as he did not know what his younger son had planned for the day but he trusted him enough to check back in eventually. So where the hell was Shin? The only way to find out was to investigate so he set off to do just that.

Sharingan blazing to life, he went from room to room looking and listening for his eccentric older child. Nothing came to sate his searches so the only place left to check was their room. Maybe they passed out after a late night's writing session and would have to be gotten up still. He could do that no problem. Shisui stood in front of their door now and prepared to knock as an uncertain feeling crept up on him. Lights off, no noise, no nothing. What would he find on the other side of the door? Hopefully not the worst.

Taking it slowly and carefully, he opened the door and scanned the whole room in order to make sure nothing had exploded or been set on fire. None of that, thank gods. Now he brought his gaze to the bed, half lit up by the flood of sunlight and half dark with no lights on in the room, and had no idea what to say at what he saw there. There was his oldest still fast asleep and with company he didn't know had even come over. The orange haired young man was clinging a bit to the adopted Nara and seemed to be peacefully asleep as well. Answers had to be gotten immediately.

Raising his voice but not too loud, he sent to get their attention. "What is going on in here?"

Shit hit the fan. In that instant Shin shot up to a sitting position, disoriented, and caught sight of who had spoken. Crap. They had nearly jumped out of their skin when it became clear who was here. "SHISUI..."

"Mind explaining yourself?" He narrowed his crimson red eyes.

Feeling the sudden motion then, Kouta stirred. He had mostly been freed when Shin moved but not entirely. His eyes came into focus after being open briefly and he caught sight of the predicament he found himself in. Fuck. Quickly pulling his limbs back to his personal space, he turned to the doorway and wore a matching deer in headlights expression that Shin also wore. The two of them had been caught doing something that was ultimately harmless but to the man standing there it may not have seen that way.

"I was just catching up on lost sleep after an all nighter, that's all." They began, voice a little wavy from being woken up suddenly. "I asked him to stay so he wouldn't have to go home at a weird hour."

"And who is this?"

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to get this caught up." Kouta spoke up anxiously. "My name is Hekireki Kouta and I was just here helping them with their writing last night. Time got away from us."

Shisui looked from one to the other then and then back again, deciding it wasn't as bad as it probably seemed at first. He let his red eyes fade to black and breathed out deeply through his nose. "It's 11 am I hope you know." He looked at Shin then. "You need to take your morning dose. And then get dressed so we can meet your mother for lunch."

"Yeah yeah, I'll get to it." They grumbled.

"I'm not playing, Shin. Hop to it. It's only been a week since last incident and your mother would lose her mind if it happened again."

"I heard you."

"See that you get it done." He switched his gaze to Kouta. "I don't know who you are, or if they've told you about me, but I'm their father. My name is Uchiha Shisui."

"I'm sorry you had to meet me like this. I promise I didn't plan this."

"Relax. A heads up would have been nice. But, they're an adult and I can't control everything they do not do I want to." He flipped them lights on and ignored the hiss from his disgruntled grown child. "Akari hasn't mentioned you so I don't think you've met my wife either. If you want to join us for lunch today, you're welcome to."

"Thank you, I appreciate the offer but uhh..." He stammered. "I should really get home. If it's okay, I will take you up on that later. I promise."

Shisui shrugged. "That's fine. Just let me know next time before you stay over. I don't want to cause another mess like this again."

"We will, dad. And before you say anything yes I'm going. Please leave so I can do that stuff."

"You have 15 minutes before I come in here again and you probably won't like it when I do. See that you get those things done. And see that he is okay to go home before we leave."

With that, be turned and left, closing the door behind him. They shot a petulant look at the door before laying back down and covering their face with one hand. Kouta watched them with concerned eyes but chose to say nothing. Shisui had had a point. They had missed their morning dose because the two of them had slept in so late. If they had an episode because of it he would never forgive himself.

"I guess I have to get my ass in gear. If I make mom wait too long I'll never hear the end of it. Come on, let's clean up or whatever."

The two of them got up slowly and he watched as they retrieved their binder off the floor but made no move to take off their shirt and put the binder on. He guessed they would probably do that in the bathroom so as to avoid another moment like last night. At least it would spare him another crisis. He was still a bit dizzy in the head when he thought back to that moment. It would stick with him a while.

"You sure you don't wanna come? Dad said it's fine. This way you can meet mom too and maybe Sai will be there. Then you won't have to be a stranger in this house."

"I don't live here. I don't have a right to any of that yet."

"Yet?"

"Shit. I meant at all. You know what I meant. Just go take your meds and out that binder on. Also wash it later. There's your reminder."

"Much appreciated. But fine I guess. If you're in such a hurry to bail."

"I'm gonna go home and water my plants then pass out and try to forget how I was clinging to you for some reason. Need to get my head back down to earth and decompress."

"It wasn't that bad. You look like you slept well."

"Until that wake up. I don't wanna repeat that ever."

"Welcome to this household."

Did they really have to phrase it like that? Or maybe he was just too dazed from the events of the last 24 hours. Yeah, that had to be it. He'd go home soon and out it all out of his mind. Then the two of them would meet up again somewhere and spend the day fucking around like usual. That way there was no time to be hung up on last night. He really needed to think of anything other than last night. That and their willingness to go along with all of this in such a relaxed way.

"Go get ready. I'll see you sometime soon probably. Okay?"

They looked at him with sincere dark eyes, nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. Next time you see my old man it'll be better. He's a pain in the ass but not really a threat if you know him well enough."

"I don't know him though."

"You will."

Fuck. What did that mean? It would weigh on him all day now. So he forced himself forward, slipping out the door and out of the house. His travel home was going to be full of unease. Maybe he wouldn't be getting more sleep after all. Not when that statement had been so up in the air ominous. But he knew it wasn't a threat. What did Shin mean by it, anyway? Gods only knew.

#Electric Current #part 7

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