#when in doubt. feed the old man candy

[schleckermaul]

' i never say no to sweets, ' break singsongs softly, slowly reaching out a hand until he actually touches the cotton candy that dar offered him. it's a bit of an awkward motion, indicative of his lack of sight, but he really couldn't be bothered to call for mad hatter when he's about to enjoy something tasty.

   stuffing a large portion of it into his mouth, break hums, winking at the other. ' i've been busy. fixing up the gardens and all. now that it's summer, they required maintenance i needed some help with. ' especially with zhilan now gone.

   ' what about you? got up to anything fun recently? '

"care for any? bit much to eat on my own." arm extends to present the generous helping of cotton candy, only a few small bits missing from where the miqo'te had plucked from. "won it at the boardwalk but, as much as i love sweet, it's a lot. figured i'd share! 'specially since i haven't seen your face around for a bit." // @schleckermaul

[sweetcollywobbles]

my yandere!leon headcanons so far MDNI

hello! these are just a few headcanons i had about leon as a yandere and a person in general. there is nsfw below the cut, so MINORS AND AGELESS BIOS FUCK OFF ‼ also feel free to send me your thoughts on yandere!leon and your personal headcanons if you have any!!

xx

sfw

⟢ he's self-aware that what he's done to you is horrible. he knows you have every right to hate him, but that doesn't stop him from wishing you would love him back. he never meant to hurt or deceive you, but he's lost and given too much. leon wants someone to come home to, share a meal with, and feel needed and wanted. to receive a sliver of what he's given out. so forgive him if he's being selfish when it comes to you, but he deserves happiness too. so why not help him play house?

⟢ smells of bergamot and lavender. it’s nice and relaxing, but also musky and woodsy. he read somewhere that lavender calms the nerves, so he just absolutely lathers himself in the scent. Sometimes you swear he smells like sleep personified. unfortunately, he’s still a man, so he uses old spice lavender body wash. for cologne, he uses sauvage by dior. 

⟢ normalcy is hard. how can anyone go back into society as if the amount of  horrors you’ve seen, aren’t there? like you’re fine and everything is fine? so, leon has found a pretty good remedy, company. each friday, a sit down dinner with claire, chris, and jill. pizza, wings, and beer every sunday with chris watching whatever football game is on. sometimes they may not know the current standings of teams, but it’s fun to pretend that they do. yet friends can only fill the void so much, maybe with you, the world won’t feel so lonely. 

⟢ he has a major sweet tooth! likes his coffee with cream and sugar, won’t drink his coffee black unless he really needs it. leon will always have room for dessert lmao. has tried to bake, but he just doesn’t got it 💀something just always goes wrong. a big ice cream/frozen yogurt guy. once a month, leon will make a “everything under the kitchen sink” sundae. he’ll dump whatever pints of ice cream into a large bowl and top it off with whatever candy, syrup, and whip topping he has. leon is usually on a very strict diet, so why not splurge?

⟢ leon on his off time has taught himself how to smoke/grill meat. only knows how to make small side dishes to go with the meat that he’s made. mashed potatoes and grilled veggies are usually his two favorite go-to sides. 

⟢ i'm a firm believer that leon's receiving love languages are quality time and words of affirmation with a hint of acts of service. leon works a lot, whether at the office or away on another mission, this poor, tired man is always working. so when he's home be prepared to be attached at the hip. leon also has a lot of self-doubt and guilt about what he's done to you, so by telling him how much you love and appreciate him, it feeds his growing delusion that what he's done is necessary. you need him just as much as he needs you. it also adds to the reassurance when you do small things for him to show your love and appreciation, whether it’s real or not. like cleaning and folding his laundry, making him a cup of coffee in the morning, back rubs after a long day, or even packing his lunch for the day. 

i’m giggling at the thought of leon keeping all the small notes you add to his lunch, reading them when the day gets tough. or maybe he has one or two in a go-bag when he has to take small out-of-state trips for work. 

⟢ building off the one before, he won't admit it but he's clingy. he prefers showers, but will choose a bath if it means he gets a small intimate moment with you in the morning. not in a sexual sense, more in a “let’s bask in each other’s presence”. never sits across from you at a table or booth, always next to you. same thing for the couch. there could be a thousand pillows on the bed, but he always chooses yours. leon will also never lets you sleep facing any windows/doors for security reasons. there is no such thing as personal space with this man.

⟢ since leon is a yandere his reciprocating love language is all of them. he wants you to stay with him, so he is willing to drown you in his love until it's the only thing you'll ever know. i'm going to break this down a little in sections.  

⟡ leon isn't the best when it comes to choosing the words that relay how he feels. the words feel wrong and it leaves him awkward. so any sort of verbal praise from him is rare. the most you would get from him is a thumbs up and a "sure" or a pat on the back with a nod.

(😀👍🏻 <— leon fr) but, put a piece of paper infront of this man and all of a sudden he's writing words that’ll make shakespear blush. it's words so sickly sweet it gives you a toothache. leon really hates himself for not being able to verbal relay this to you, but maybe you can feel what he wants to say?

⟡ leon is just really good at showing you how he feels than telling you. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD GIVE THE BEST HUGS BECAUSE HE SO DESPERATELY NEEDS ONE. just imagining leon giving you a bear hug, fully enveloping you, and he can't help but hold you a little closer. maybe even holds your head a little more to him. his eyes are closed, soaking up the loving moment, he might even do a little sigh of relief. because with you, he's safe. with you, he's loved. and he just wants you to feel the love he has for you through every action. to feel what he can't say. (SORRY I GOT OFF TRACK!!) leon also always has to be touching you in some way. his favorite places for kisses; nose, cheek, neck, or hand. every morning, when he's holding you close, he'll leave small repeated kisses on your neck until you wake up giggling. not really into lip kisses, but will sometimes start a lazy make out session. just loves holding you whenever he can and making sure you feel loved at all times.

⟡ leon will also do the most for you. having a hard time sleeping? he's awake with you, lightly scratching your back in small circles or holding you close while he's running his fingers through your hair. leon just can't sleep knowing that you're having a hard time sleeping. hungry but don't want to cook? he's in the kitchen cheffing it up. putting love in every plate that he makes you, even if it isn't restaurant quality. i feel like leon will also leave you small notes around the house in places that you would find, but it's little drawings instead of words. in the slow cooker, a picture of a flower. in between the dryer sheets, a bad stick figure drawing of what you think is of you and him. at some random page of the book you're reading, a simple heart. 

⟡ leon loves spending time with you. it doesn't matter what it is, even if you're doing nothing. he wants to do nothing with you. his favorite thing to do with you is listen to you. whether you’re rambling about the latest tv drama he knows nothing about or it’s late at night and you’re reading whatever book you’ve picked up. he loves being in the kitchen when you’re cooking/baking. he’s your dedicated sous chef, so feel free to boss him around like your gordon ramsay. although, i’m so sorry for the amount of “my name is sue” jokes he’ll make. loves watching movies, putting together legos/ doing diy crafts, and playing mario kart. 

I NOTICED THIS WAS GETTING LONG AND IDK IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL BUT IM HOPING I DID. THIS WAS SOOOO SELF INDULGENT.

⟢ when it comes to pet names, leon will add a “my” to the start of it. he’s possessive and it shows in his actions. will often say: my girl, my sweetheart, my baby, my angel, etc.

nsfw (i’m not good at smut sorry)

⟢ the praise problem does not equate to what happens in the bedroom. i'm sorry, i just simply refuse. a complete 180, he's a talker. whether it's saying something so outlandishly lewd like he wants the whole world to hear or sickly sweet nothings in your ear, this dude will NOT stfu. (and it makes me giggle and kick my feet) I WILL PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE AND SAY THAT THIS MAN IS ABSOLUTELY FERAL IN BED. he's always stressed. from his job, from the lack of self care, from the past that just never seems to leave him. he's on edge. he has healthy ways of releasing it, but sometimes the gym or extra training isn't enough. 

⟢ which can lead to leon being a little mean in bed. he’s absolutely degrading the life out of you while also giving you whiplash with the praise that he gives you as well. leon is a lot more aggressive and at some point you’re just a fleshlight to him. spanking, choking, biting, spitting, you name it, it is on the table. also licking whatever drool comes out of his mouth makes him lose his mind fr.

⟢ i'm not good at writing smut, but i do have an idea of what i think leon's favorite sex positions would be. the first one would be mating press. it's extremely intimate and it allows him to be close to your face and neck than the regular missonary position. again, he really gets off knowing that he's the one getting you off. another postition would be cowgirl, it gives him full view of your chest and face, except you're not really riding him. again, he just using you as a fleshlight like giving you the perception that you’re in control. another would be you on your belly and him basically putting you in a headlock. IDK WHAT IT’S CALLED BUT IF YKYK. and leon just saying the most down right atrocious things in your ear would make me go crazy. 

YOU’RE GONNA SIT THERE AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT HIS HUGE ARMS AROUND YOUR NECK, YOU’RE INSANE. 

⟢ last but not least, ✨moaning✨. i like to think that he’s a grunter and whiner at the same time. idk if that makes any sense? he’s loud but not obscenely loud. but sometimes when he overstimulates himself, he’s a complete whiner like lovi (again if ykyk).

[siblingskissing]

vance hcs pleeeeease 🤲

Vance Hopper Headcanons

-Momma's boyMomma's boyMomma's boyMomma's boyMomma's boyMomma's boy -Vance has anger issues that I believe are both trauma based and also possibly an undiagnosed disorder/mental health issue. It was the 70s so he likely wouldn't have been diagnosed but you see what I mean -He's not rich but he's also not dirt poor either. I imagine his dad probably has a really nice job and forced his mom to be a housewife/caregiver 24/7. That being said- Vance has a pretty humble mindset when it comes to finances despite the fact -When Vance went missing he was out walking after a fight with his old man- likely had some bruising already when the Grabber tried coaxing him into helping him. I feel like Vance probably didn't try to help but rather tried to fight him and that's how he grabbed him

- (I'm not gonna go into my headcanons for his captivity in this post but I will happily do a separate post if yall want that)

-Vance hates sweets but sour candy has a grip on his soul -He also loves salty foods

-His style is inspired by both his own need to rebel but also his mom's style when she was younger. I think she had hair similar to this:

-I think she actually has dark hair to and the color comes from his dad's side

-Vance actually is really smart and would do well in school if he was given the chance. however, do to both his environment and his temper he can't actually show that -He loves dogs. He prefers cats some days but he likes to feed the stray dogs that sit in the alleys -He loves bananas. Ever since he was a toddler he would munch on them. His mother once got concerned that he had a potassium issue. Nope. Just likes banana -He's allergic to kind of a lot. Cinnamon, peanuts,almonds, eggs, honestly he has a laundry list of allergens that his mom keeps handy -Thankfully most of his allergies (minus the peanuts and almonds) are mostly just irritants so he can still eat things he likes. However those two will kill him. -He likes horror films but isn't huge on them. He'll sometimes sneak into the drive in to watch them but that's more for the rush than the actual film. His favourite horror film is Halloween -I don't have a specific sexuality headcanoned for him. I guess most people would say Pansexual but i think he's unlabelled. He doesn't like many people but if he gets involved with someone? Well, good for them. -chocolate chip pancakes lover -Watches the Twilight Zone with his mom every week. His favorite episode is 'To Serve Man' - Vance always secretly wanted to be a firefighter when he got older. He thought they were cool and when he was like 5 he used to play with his mom that he was a firefighter rescuing her. - His favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla. He does not care that it's basic, he likes the simplicity and how its not too sweet. -Same reason he likes dark chocolate. -IDK why but I imagine him as an older brother?? Maybe his mom had a little girl after him or was pregnant when he went missing. -IDK but either way he is so protective. -He hates reading with a passion. He hates silence and he hates being silent the entire time he reads. He does however enjoy when people read to him/he can follow along with someone reading. -Rip vance you would've loved audiobooks -Know how I said he likes horror? He HATES horror stories. They aren't as fun for him and he things they're boring -I imagine he has a very clean room for some reason?? Like he likes things to be in their place, how he likes it and its organized for his needs -Kinda similar in the idea of this?? Like i doubt he has tons of decor but he has what he needs

-Secret art kid. He's really good at drawing but doesn't do it much outside of his room. He prefers traditional pencil drawings since paint leaves too much residue but if he gets his hands on colored pencils? He flourishes. -rip vance you would've loved alcohol markers-

[tf2-hellhole]

can we get some fluffy tf2 headcannons? giving you full creative liberty over this one! :)

Idk if you meant tf2 x reader headcanons or just general head canons, so I did two sections for each merc; the first point is a general headcanon, the second is X Reader.

sorry this took forEEEEEEEEVER, I was just experiencing burnout and working on a prize for a contest on my server (BTW WE HAVE A NEW DRAWING CONTEST GO CHECK IT OUT)

Scout:

Scout is actually really self-concious about his intelligence. He’s not very bright and he knows it, and it makes him feel horrible. He had flunked out of high school and struggled in most of his core classes. He honestly feels really stupid and he hates when people point it out. But luckily for him, a lot of the other mercs understand what it’s like to be looked down upon and empathize with him. Quite a few of them help him relearn the skills he never mastered in school. Engie helps him with math, Spy sometimes helps him with writing, and even Pyro has him read children’s books to them to improve his reading.

Scout absolutely loves little casual dates. Stuff like going out to eat lunch, going to the movies, maybe just cuddling up in his quarters and watching a movie. He tries to plan one every week. His dream date is taking you back to Boston to meet his family and go to a Red Sox game. But obviously, since you’re both in New Mexico at the time, he’s going to have to shelve that dream for a few years.

Soldier:

Soldier is an excellent raccoon dad. At first, the other mercenaries thought they’d all end up dead by the end of the month when he first found them. But surprisingly, they are are very well cared for. They’re all fed regularly and basically have his entire assigned quarters to themselves. He loves every single one of them dearly, even the ones that hiss and scratch him every time. The raccoons, at least some of them, are kind of like weird, quiet dogs, and actually get along pretty well with most of the other mercenaries.

Soldier is a surprisingly very physically affectionate partner, and he’s not at all opposed to PDA. He loves hand holding, cheek kisses, cuddles, the whole nine yards. Whenever he’s particularly excited, he loves to run up to you, scoop you up into his arms, and press a hard, sloppy kiss to your lips. Of course, he’s careful to not hurt you, but he’s a very intense, emotional guy and he needs to express all that love he has for you!

Pyro:

Pyro is and excellent listener, so they’re a person a lot of the other mercenaries depend on to vent. Demo often comes to them to vent about his emotions, Scout, Sniper, or Medic will rant about what’s bothering them, and even Engineer will talk about his stress. And of course, Pyro doesn’t understand a lot of what is told to them, but they’re still happy to help them feel a little better, and they would happily do it a hundred times over to make their friends feel better.

Pyro has a hobby of baking and making candy/treats, and they love sharing everything they make with you. When they first gave you a treat, you honestly thought it’d be burnt or bad in some other way. But to your surprise, it was amazing! They’re actually and excellent cook, but they just love making sweet things the best. They’ll make you just about anything you could ask for without hesitation, but they’re best at making anything sweet.

Demo:

Demo obviously has the potential to pretty emotional when he’s drunk, there’s no doubt about that. But on the off-chance that he’s sober, he’s actually pretty sweet and considerate. Though he still is a rough-housing joker, he’s much more considerate of his friends’ feelings and has deeper and more meaningful conversations with them. He often likes to go to bars with his friends and co-workers on ceasefire weekends, having lots of fun conversation, drinking together, and generally causing chaos around town.

Demo, to put it simply, doesn’t like himself. He’s critical of everything, from his skills to race, because people have always put him down about them. His mother told him he’s lazy and unskilled too many times to count, just everyone makes fun of his eye, and many have made fun of his skin color. But you make him feel so much better about himself. Just the fact that someone so kind and gorgeous is actually with him makes him feel like he’s not as horrible as he thought. There’s been a couple of times where you’ve accidentally almost brought him to tears with a sweet compliment or show of affection, because he never thought in a million years that someone would love him and care for him like you do. He feels so blessed that he has someone like you.

Heavy:

I know the fandom’s decided that Engie is the Team Mom and makes the food, but I also think that Heavy cooks a lot too. He makes all of his own food, so he often makes a lot of extras to feed the team because a lot of them just eat junk food and Medic’s always complaining about their eating habits. Heavy often takes like half the food for himself (he does have a huge appetite and loves food, so he likes to take a lot) and just boxes up the leftover portions and leaves them in the fridge for the team to take. He says he’s only doing it because they can’t work properly if they’re unhealthy, but he also does it because he cares about their health. A little bit.

At first, you wouldn’t think Heavy’s the most cuddly guy. But surprise, he actually loves giving and receiving physical affection. He just doesn’t show it often out of respect for your boundaries, and doesn’t do it around others. His absolute favorite thing is to cuddle you against his chest. Sometimes it’s when going to sleep, or cuddling on the couch, or maybe just a quick hug. He just loves the feeling of your head resting against his chest and your arms trying (and failing) to wrap around his torso. It makes him feel like you’re safe. Nobody could ever get you when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

Engie:

You’d think Sniper’s the only nature nerd on the team, but Engie absolutely loves the outdoors, as well as animals. It’s because his father would often take him out camping every couple of months. It was often the only time he would get 1-on-1 time with his usually very busy father. So he does love the great outdoors, especially that of his home state. He especially loves animals. He was raised on a farm and helped take care of lots of injured wild animals with his mother. He absolutely loves pets and would like to have many when he retires. His dream is to have is own ranch, with horses and cows and a bunch of dogs and the whole shebang.

Engie absolutely loves playing the guitar, so of course he loves playing for you. He learns all sorts of sweet love songs to sing to you. He’s an excellent player and actually has a pretty decent singing voice (think Johnny Cash, he kinda has that singing style). I hope you like country music, because that’s all he’s going to sing to you until you give him some requests or he finds out your favorite artists or genres. You can tell how happy he is every time he gets to surprise you with a new song he learned, and he’d be a giddy, laughing mess if you sang along with him.

Medic:

You’d think this guy takes horrible care of his birds because of the environment he keeps them in, but his birds are actually exceptionally well cared for. He buys them only the best and most expensive bird food, gives them super high-quality water with vitamins n stuff in it, takes them to the vet regularly, the whole shebang. Yeah they get a little dirty from sitting around in his lab, but he always gives them a little bath at the end of the day to get all the blood and guts off.

Medic is honestly such a playful partner. Of course, around his co-workers he’s a little more professional; he still gives you soft touches, a kiss on the cheek, or a big smile, but that’s about it. In private, however, he’s such a sweetheart. He’s always sweeping you up into big hugs, kissing all over your face, and calling you all sorts of adorable nicknames in a variety of languages. It comes as a surprise, because you’d think he’d be a little more formal, but that’s really only for special occasions. It honestly brings him so much joy to have someone like you by his side, and every day he’s going to make sure you know just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

Sniper:

Sniper is an incredibly independent and self-sufficient man, but he’s also secretly a real mama’s boy. He loves his parents dearly and has a particularly close relationship with his mother. As well as sending them money every month, he sends them all sorts of gifts, letters, postcards, and souvenirs. He also makes sure to call them regularly. He goes home every couple of months to visit them, and one could see that he loves helping around the house and chatting with his parents. His mother loved gardening, so his number-1 favorite thing to do is help her in the garden.

Despite Sniper’s obvious lack of knowledge on self-care, he takes a lot of time out of his day to make sure you are happy, healthy, clean, and well-fed. He doesn’t hound you like a helicopter parent but he likes to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, stuff like that. It feels nice to know you’re taken care of or take care of you himself. If you switch it around and try to take care of him, however, he’s honestly baffled as to why you would care so much as to make sure he’s doing well. He does absolutely love the affection and attention he gets out of it though, it makes him feel loved.

Spy:

I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a head canon that Spy has a dog. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s an elderly Chihuahua. One would think he’d buy a French breed, but he found her out in the pouring rain one day and fell in love with her fluffy ears and spunky personality. She’s now 17 years old, extremely frail, missing most of her teeth, and extremely aggressive to anyone other than Spy, but he loves her dearly and pays for all of her medical expenses without batting an eye. And of course, she expresses her thanks with lots of kisses.

Spy loves dancing, and knows all kinds of dances, from flamenco to ballroom dancing to the Charleston to, canonically, disco. So of course, he’s dying to share all of the most romantic dances he knows with you. He’d love to actually teach you how to dance, rewarding you with kisses every time you finally get a move right and laughing softly when you make mistakes. But in reality, he just wants to use it as an excuse to dance with you against his chest and smother you in affection.

[terrence-silver]

Now that we know what the proposal would be like, what would Terry's wedding be like?

― Again, surprisingly discreet? I think that for Terry, when no emotions are involved, he vastly overcompensates and over-focuses on the material aspects to pad the hollow and the emptiness of it all (and he might not even be particularly aware of the fact), but when there are deep feelings at play, he'd be content with just making it official with his beloved and simply enjoy himself (and then retire and consummate the actual marriage too, if he doesn't actually get to that mid-reception, somewhere private). Oh, that doesn't mean Terry is now mysteriously non-materialistic overnight, no, quite the opposite; this discreet affair will still be lavish, exuberantly expensive, unimaginably extravagant, but thing is, nobody but a select chosen few will ever witness it. This day is for the two of you.

― Gorgeous gowns, gorgeous suits, gorgeous decor, gorgeous catering, gorgeous everything. It is a bubbled in event, but it is no less beautifully spectacular for it. Because again? Why share? He wants to protect his bride, especially if his bride is an ordinary person where class is concerned, which chances are, compared to him, who isn't? Once he slips the wedding band on your finger and you're officially made a Silver, I believe he just can't wait to get away with you (for the umpteenth time) and have the third consecutive honeymoon in a row. If he feels generous towards the public at large he might just sell the press one whole highly artistic wedding shot purely for the bragging rights of it and then literally snigger with the knowledge that he is not only indescribably happy, but also richer for a few million. Off of his own matrimony. Shrewd capital.

― I think Terry's super energized and super enthusiastic, especially after the actual vows have been said and he doesn't know what he'd rather do first. Toast? Dance? Waltz? Kiss you? Drink? Feed you cake? Demand he be fed cake? Pop open a champagne? Throw you over his shoulder and carry you off? Not separate from you? Introduce you to everyone? Flaunt you? Hide you away? Act gleeful, like he just won something, even though --- yeah. Yeah he did. Rip off your wedding gown and just take you? There's so much joy in him that he can't contain it and so he grows a bit manic due to it. He's a bit like a child in a candy store in that regard, regardless if this is 80's Terry or old man Terry. He wants to do everything at once and he's high on the emotion of it and I don't think there would be a single doubt in mind he's infinitely pleased with his choice of partner, because mid-waltz, he might just throw his head back and laugh. Giggle.

― Will act amazingly dignified, poised, charismatic and proper, but by his facial expressions, which range from gloating to downright horny, involving anything from knowing smirks, biting his lip, flaring his nostrils, bedroom eyes galore, lingering stares at anyone taking his bride's attention away from him even for but a brief second it is very much apparent Terry intends to retire from his own wedding prematurely because his now spouse is right there, looking deliciously delectable, and he's just supposed to keep his hands to himself? All night? And socialize? Yeah, no. All masks come off. It is pretty certain he'll disappear off of the already discreet reception he arranged and that he'll drag you away with him. It is not clear when Mr. Silver and Mrs. Silver disappeared, or when they'll reappear but you've been in your bedroom suite for a full week after the event and then he promptly whisked you away to some island resort and you won't be seen or heard from in a while.

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

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The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.

“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”

“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”

“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”

Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”

Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”

“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.

“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”

“Tch! No, I haven’t!”

“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”

“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”

Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”

“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”

Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”

“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”

“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”

“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.

“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”

“Who?”

“The bartender from the party.”

Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”

“Maybe.”

Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”

“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”

“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”

Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”

Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”

Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”

“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”

“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”

“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”

“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.

According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.

“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.

“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”

“Tch�� still pisses me off he even tried.”

“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.

“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”

“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”

“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”

“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”

“Just keep an eye on it.”

“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”

“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”

Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”

Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”

“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”

“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.

Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.

Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.

It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.

Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’

“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.

“Nope. Back to the office.”

He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’

The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!

In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.

“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”

“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”

Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.

“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.

“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”

“Take a guess,” he sneered back.

“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”

“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”

“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”

“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.

Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”

“Is that a threat?!”

“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”

“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.

“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”

“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”

Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”

“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”

“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”

“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”

Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.

Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.

Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”

“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”

“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.

Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”

Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.

“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.

“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.

“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”

[littlemessyjessi]

“Tae and Jae”: Part 2 from the BTS 8th Member Series “Untamed”: Mae Jae:  The Gucci Twins Have A Day:   Fake Social Media + Imagine

Part Two to Tae and Jae’s day of adventure !

"Where are we going?"

Jae couldn't help but laugh at the bewildered look on Taehyung's face as he drove them further and further out into the middle of nowhere.

"Just keep going." she said. "It's not far from here."

"Where even is here?" he asked.  "It's pretty but I've never been here."

"That's kinda the point." she said.

"Did you bring me out here to kill me?" he asked, widening his eyes at her and pulling on his acting skills.  "Was this your equivalent of fattening up the pig?  Spoil me, feed me and then just bring me out here so you can bury me where no one can find me."

"How dramatic." she laughed at his faux face of terror.

His face melted back into his iconic boxy smile and he continued on before she directed him to pull off just ahead.

"Just sit tight and keep your eyes closed." she said before hopping out of the car.

"Well, this is it, I guess.  She's getting her weapon of choice out of the trunk.  I knew I should've been suspicious when she wouldn't let me help her with that big suspicious lump earlier. Good bye, cruel world."  he said dramatically out the open window.

Jae's laughter could be heard in the background.

Taehyung snickered a little as he could hear her moving around out there.

"Am I actually waiting for you to dig a hole?" he teased.

"Yah! Shut it! I'm working on something!"

He snickered again though he nearly hit on his head on the roof when she tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped.

"Ok, we're ready.  Come on." she grinned.

He cut the engine and climbed out, only to be ordered to shut his eyes again.

Jae took his hand and began to lead him forward a bit before they came to a stop.

"Ok, you can open them now."

It took him a moment to adjust to the brightness but when he did, his jaw opened in shock before his face squished in affection.

"Awwwww!!!! Noona!!!!"

Jae laughed as he clobbered her in a hug.

Tae never called her Noona unless he was particularly emotional.

There before them were two places set up for them to paint.

"I thought we could paint and watch the sunset." she supplied.  "We can go and get food afterwards and I know a place for a treat before we go home."

Tae squeezed her to him again once more before fishing his phone out of his pocket and snapping a picture of the easels and supplies.  

"I love you." he said as he looked down at the picture on his phone.

"I love you too, Tae." she chuckled.  "Now come on, let's make some masterpieces."

He let her yank him towards the set up and the two of them spend the next couple of hours painting the scene around them and chatting comfortably.

The both of them had missed this.  

Even when living in the same home, it was still sometimes hard to get one on one time with loved ones.

People were busy and as you got older, it only got worse.

In the beginning, when they were all crammed into a tiny little place with way too many bunks in one room, there were around each other constantly.

It was true that Taehyung still ended up in Jae's room at least a couple of times a week.

The poor guy needed to hold something to sleep and he would much prefer if it was a person as a pillow.

Jae usually let him because it was him but she also pulled long hours in her studio so sometimes she didn't even get home until the early hours of the morning.

Recently, she'd been working on her own content as well and doing producer work for the company and it wasn't uncommon at all for her to come at nearly four in the morning.

Not to mention, she was planning a trip to go back home to see her parents soon and he knew first hand what a pain travel plans could be.

He felt really touched that she thought about him enough to plan ahead and spend the day with him.

It reminded him of the early days when she'd take them all out one by one for ice cream or noodles.

Her and Jin had always done that kind of thing.

The eternal big siblings.

After they finished their paintings they left them on the easels and laid back on the tarp to watch as the last few rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon.

"This has been really nice, Jae." he said, arms tucked behind his head.

"I'm glad you've had fun, Tae." she said. "We're not done yet though."

"I would've been happy just driving around with you." he shrugged. "You didn't have to do all this."

Jae turned to look at him.

"I know that, Tae." she chuckled. "I know you'd be happy cuddling up and watching a movie.  But I wanted to do it.  I like treating you.  All of you.  And I wasn't always able to do things like this but now I am.  We're all in much better positions in life now, financially, emotionally, a lot of ways.  And I think it's important to spoil your loved ones when you get the chance."

"You spoiled us in the beginning." he laughed. "I remember when you used to take me to the convenient store and let me pick out any candy I wanted.  It felt like I'd been on a shopping spree."

"It was just candy, Tae." she said with an amused look.

"Not to me it wasn't." he said seriously.  "It was a lot more than that."

Her features softened looking over at him.

While Big Hit marketed the two of them as 'the twins' he was still a few years younger than her.

He'd grown into such a good man and she was so proud of him.

Sometimes she forgot that Taehyung was younger than her though and would always look at her like his older sister.

She remembered that scrawny kid with the boxy smile and the effervescent personality.

She remembered how so many people didn't know how to handle Taehyung's personality.

What Taehyung remembered was how even when they didn't get along in the beginning, she'd still come and get him and take him for noodles or make him dumplings in the middle of the night.

"Do you remember when you got up at like three in the morning and made me dumplings because I was missing my family?" he asked suddenly, looking up into the darkening sky.

She laughed, "Yes.  I remember we weren't exactly close then but I could hear you in the other room."

Taehyung laughed, "I remember you walked out and I was fully expecting you to scold me for not being in bed."

"Sounds like me." Jae snorted.

"But you didn't.  You just walked into the kitchen, hair snatched into a bird's nest on your head and started cooking." he said. "I remember I just watched you for the longest time and then you just shoved me a plate and said- 'Here'."

"I wasn't that great at expressing myself back then." she shrugged. "Food was my love language."

"Kinda still is." he teased.

She shrugged, "Food is simple.  You can do a lot for someone by just letting them know that you care enough about them to make sure they're well fed."

The two of them looked at each other softly.

"I didn't always say it.  In fact, I never said it in the beginning.  But I'm really appreciative of you being there and taking care of us.  If it weren't for you and Jin, I don't know that I would've stayed.   Joon made it clear that we could do it and that he'd lead us.  That gave some reassurance.  But without you and Jin, I just don't think I could've handled it." he admitted turning back to the blossoming stars in the sky.

"Yes you could've, Taehyung." she said, eyes focused on his profile. "Because you're far more talented than you give yourself credit for.  I have no doubt that you'd have been fine without anyone else. But I'm really glad that I've gotten to be along for the ride to watch you grow. It's been a priviledge.  One that I hope I can continue to have for the rest of my life."

Taehyung refused to respond and instead just rolled over to cuddle her.

She laughed, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

"Oh you big softy." she said.

They laid like that for the longest time before she pulled him to his feet.

"Come on. Let's get this loaded up and then I'm taking you for japchae." she said, smirking when his face lit up.

He didn't need to be told twice and soon they were speeding off in the direction of a little spot that sold some of the best japchae she'd ever had.

Which was saying something because she'd had a lot of it in her years in this world.

They tucked into a booth and she smiled watching Taehyung happily dig into his meal.

She snapped a picture and uploaded it before she tucked in herself.

Only a few moments and she laughed when she saw that Jungkook had already commented, whining about wanting some.

"We have to pick pizza up before we go home." she said.

Tae's eyebrows lifted, cheeks puffed and mouth full of food.

It was a comical sight.

"Kookie is hungry." she explained and his eyes creased in a smile.

"When is he not?" he asked when he finally swallowed.

"He's a growing bunny!" she defended.

"He's only two years younger than me." Taehyung said.

"He'll always be my baby bunny." she said with determination.  "I don't care if he's sixty.  He's bunny forever."

"You're such a mom." he laughed.

"The same goes for you." she said. "No matter how old you get, you'll always be my rambunctious little tiger cub."

Taehyung's creased in a smile.

One that he was never able to fight off when Jae referred to him as her cub.

"When are you headed back to see your family?" he asked.

"In a couple more weeks. I still have to iron out a few details and finish up a song I'm producing." she said.

"Are you excited?" he asked knowingly.

"I am." she grinned. "It's been so long since I've seen them in the flesh.  And video calls just aren't the same."

He nodded knowingly.

He understood that.

He loved the BTS family that he'd come to have but it was different than actually seeing your relatives.

It was also something that none of them really got the chance to do very often.

Taehyung, himself, barely got to see his siblings and parents, and his grandparents, who had raised him, had been gone for a few years now.

"How long are you staying for?" he asked.

"Three weeks." she said, feeding her noodles into her mouth.

"Oh god." he said.  "Jimin is going to be a monster."

"Not my sweet baby Jiminie." she teased knowing full well how much of an absolute demon Jimin could be sometimes.

His brat energy was off the charts at times and when he was pouty he was a menace.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sweet baby Jiminie. Suuure."

"Well, you two can cuddle each other while I'm away." she said.  "We both know you'll be sulky too."

"I'm offended that you would even suggest such a thing." he said. "I don't sulk."

"Mmmhmm, sure." she said, impishly looking at him over the rim of her glass as she took a drink.

He pouted at her and she nearly choked to death on the sprite.

He grinned evilly, "Karma."

"Shut it." she said, wiping the soda from her face.

"I'm gonna miss you when you're gone though." he said.

She reached out to pat his hand.

"It'll be ok, Tae." she said. "It won't be long."

"I know. And I do hope you have fun." he said but she could tell he was still fighting another pout.

"I'll call everyone all the time." she offered. "You can even sleep in my bed while I'm gone."

"Well, thank you for the permission but Tannie and I have already made plans to temporarily move in anyway.  And I will be raiding your closet while you're gone."

"I expected nothing less." she said. "Although, you act like you don't just walk in and do that anyway."

He grinned in response before leaning back and patting his stomach.

"My grandma would be proud." he said.

Jae laughed in response.

"Alright, come on, tiger cub.  I got one last treat, then we'll pick up some pizza for the heathens and head home." she said sliding out and pulling him to his feet.

He stretched and reached for his back pocket.

"Touch your wallet and you die tonight, Kim Taehyung." she said. "I already told you.  The next time, you will actually get a spanking right here in public."

Taehyung didn't say anything else.

He just hugged her from behind, chin on her shoulder while she paid the cashier and left a tip for the waiter.

He snatched her hand as soon as they were outside and swung them together like a child.

"You happy, Tae?" she asked.

"Very." he said.

"Alright, come on." she said.

He didn't fight her when she took the keys from him.

She could tell he was getting sleepy by this time.

He watched her while she drove them, weaving through the streets until they came to another stop.

Taehyung had nearly fallen asleep to the hum of the car and the feeling of the cool air conditioning on his skin.

"Come on, cub." she said tapping his nose. "Let's go."

He grinned when he noticed that she'd taken him to a hot chocolate bar.

The spent the next hour indulging in the delicious chocolatey treat, adding cream and marshmallows.

Even a few odd combinations here and there that Jae claimed were an abomination and that they should never speak about.

Tae had posted it to his social media and Jin had lectured Jae about giving him chocolate at this time of night as if Taehyung were four and then proceeded to call her and further assert his point.

"Kim Seokjin, you watch your tone or I'll sneak into your room while you're sleeping and lick your face." she said.

The fast and comical angry response that she recieved had Tae rolling with laughter when she put Jin on speaker phone.

"Jesus Christ." she said when she finally hung up.  "I can only imagine his blood pressure right now."

"That vein in his neck is probably popping out right now." Tae said.

"He's getting a little red in the face." she continued.

"Hair whipping back and forth as he shakes his head." Tae laughed.

"Fastest rapper in the world." she giggled.

"Activated when angry." he said before the two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Eventually, they piled back into the car and after having stopped for pizza for the rest of the members, they sped away towards their home.

Taehyung was sleeping when they got there, all but laid out over the console to throw his arm around Jae while she was driving.

She poked his cheek until he stirred.

"Come on, big guy." she said. "Help me take everything in."

His face was pinched as  he struggled to wake up but he slowly helped her take everything inside anyway.

Jungkook, who had heard her car pull in, met them half way and snatched the pizza boxes out of her arms.

"You're welcome!" she yelled after him with a laugh.

"Thank you!" he called back before he disappeared from view.

When they finally made it in, the whole lot of them had surrounded the table like a pack of wild hyenas.

There was a mumble of greetings and thank yous.

The two of them parted ways to go and shower and change.

Jae was laying on her bed, scrolling through the pictures of the day when her door opened and Tae stood there.

Hair a fluffy mess and white tee shirt and pajama bottoms hanging on his frame.

He grinned before running and jumping on her.

"Oh god, Tae! Some warning would've been nice!" she laughed as he snuggled into her.

He looked the picture of innocence, head nestled in the blankets, eyes sparkling at her like a little boy up to no good.

She snapped another picture of him because it was just too good.

"Can I sleep in here tonight?" he asked.

She tapped her finger to her chin, pretending to be thinking before she smirked at him.

"I guess." she said, laughing when he grinned that boxy smile at her and called out for Tannie.

The pomeranian came bounding in and jumped on the bed, fully preparing to nest for the night.

They half watched something on Netflix for a while, half played on their phones, hands scratching idly at Tannie's fur.

She snickered as she watched him tuck his arm behind his head and take a selfie.

"Ooooh, Kim Taehyung and his selcas!" she teased and he almost shoved her off the bed.

However, a few moments later when she recieved a notification she couldn't help but aww.

'I have had the best day ever. Thank you for spending time with me and spoiling me today, Twinkie.  I love you so much. @BTSJae #VXBFFL'

He hid his face when he could see her reading the caption.

Jae smirked, typing out her own response.

'I'm glad you had a good day, pumpkin.  I always love spending time with you, baby bear.'

Taehyung peeked at his phone at the notification and shoved his face into the pillow with a groan of happiness.

She just chuckled and turned her attention back to the flat screen, just very thankful to be where she was in life.

--------- Part one is HERE if you missed it Bonus Content including a slightly jealous Jimin coming soon! ------

–

Hey loves! I hope you enjoy this! I’m trying out something new with writing for a while since I hit a major road block while I’m here in the hospital.  I hope you enjoy these!  If you’re interested in reading Jae’s full profile and the masterlist for this series you can find it HERE

I would love to know your thoughts and if you have any suggestions for other things to happen with Jae and the boys, just let me know!

I love you and I hope you have a good day, my loves.

Love,

Kenny

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dreadwolfxoxo   pottahishotasf

glassesandthunderthighs

potter-head-phanatic

——- Also, just a reminder that I am open for commissions! Additionally, the only tag list I have is my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added all you have to do is just go to the ask box and request to be added! It’s that simple and you’re in! I love you all! 

[rainbowsky]

To the person who sent me the thousand word essay, if you check out my ask policy I don't publish these kinds of long asks. I used to get tons of them and it got to be too much. Also, a lot of your comments contain anti talking points that I will not publish on my blog. But I can respond to some of the issues you raised.

TW/CW - brief mention of homophobia and suicide.

Basically your message was a sort of cataloguing of your doubts about BJYXSZD. To quote your closing paragraph, "Ah....i am just desperate for them to be a couple after all these months and the bts videos and inteviews, but it just doesn't add up anymore. So, as a confused fan, i thought about seeking reassurance to you."

I don't think it's my place, nor is it really anyone's place, to try to convince you or reassure you that GGDD is real. You will either believe or you won't believe. In my experience, people who are filled with doubts and in need of a steady stream of candies and clues to keep them satisfied are going to find themselves on a constant emotional roller-coaster of euphoria and misery.

Let go of your need for certainty.

As I've said in the past, when you let go of your need for certainty you will find that certainty comes a lot more easily. People who need certainty approach GGDD like a detective agency or a hungry ghost, focusing on their craving for proofs and candies that never quite seem to satiate them, and they miss out on the real joy of just being a fan.

A lot of the doubts you listed are things that don't really fit with why BXG believe BJYXSZD. We don't base our belief on the fact that they did a BL show together. We don't base our belief on the fact that they get along well together. We don't base our belief on candies. We base our belief on the insight we accumulate over a period of time, and that's not something that can be passed on to someone else. It's something everyone has to discover for themselves.

GGDD have nothing to prove. BXG have nothing to prove. We are all just here to enjoy them, love them and support them.

My advice: just relax, let go of your need for certainty, and enjoy GG and DD. Certainty will come or it won't, so there's no need to fret over it.

A couple things I felt the need to respond to:

Hidden relationships

Hidden relationships are totally a Thing in the entertainment industry, of course. Andy Lau with his 24 year hidden relationship is a great example. But you seem fixated on the idea that if GG or DD were hiding a relationship, it must be a heterosexual one.

Heteronormativity is a huge part of why so many fans have a hard time believing that GG and DD could ever be a real couple. There can be endless signs that a man is in a gay relationship and the fans will just dismiss it all, but if that man so much as smiles at a woman, fans are immediately ready to believe he's in love with her. Heterosexuality is seen as the default, and that makes homosexuality invisible to a lot of straight people.

You mentioned Leslie Cheung. I recommend this excellent post if you want to see why the world wasn't ready for him. He was an inspiration to LGBTQ people, without any doubt. I think he was equally a cautionary tale for a lot of people, even if the tragedy of his death wasn't necessarily directly related to his queerness or how he was being treated by the public.

There's a trope in society and in media and entertainment, that queer people are tragic figures. Queer characters are often presented as emotionally and psychologically turbulent people who meet untimely, tragic ends. Queer stories tend to be focused around "the struggle of being queer" and the rejection, fear and bigotry queer people face. The violence, the death, the suicides.

How could this not feed into the fears we have as queer people growing up in an often hostile world? How could a story like Leslie's fail to scare as many people as it inspires?

And besides, there are closeted gay couples in the entertainment industry in China.

I have talked about the whole hidden relationship thing, the whole 'needing to appear single' thing, in the past. You can find some of those posts linked at the end of this one. I've also talked about the pressure to appear single (along with the pressure to enter a straight marriage) previously here.

DD and the anti bullshit you've read

I can tell you've read a lot of anti lies in your travels. You're carrying a lot of the toxic ideas that antis spread online. I'm going to take a wild guess and say you spend most of your time on Twitter and YouTube, where these lies are part of the air people breathe on those platforms.

The rumors of DD being in a relationship with that heiress are nothing but harassment and bullshit. She is a known celebrity stalker who has caused scandals with multiple celebrities. Antis spread those lies because they are harmful to DD, not because they're true. DD denies them because they are false, not because he's got something to hide.

DD has never once been spotted with her. He's never once been photographed with her. There exists in the world exactly zero evidence of any common thread between her and DD. Zero evidence that they've ever even been in the same room together. Zero. There's no candy, nothing.

Meanwhile the candy connecting DD and GG together is so abundant it would put Willy Wonka out of business. There are constant reports of them being seen together, evidence of them being together, etc. Some of that stuff is stalker material that I won't share on my blog - such as DD's suitcase being spotted in GG's car a few days ago - but yeah, if you believe in the stalker heiress BS but not GGDD, that only speaks to your ignorance of the situation.

One of the things I find most frustrating about being a BJYXSZD BXG is that we are constantly characterized as spectacularly naive and deluded, meanwhile it's our most vocal critics - the antis, toxic solos and insecure turtles - who unquestioningly believe anything they read.

As for 22*7, you can always tell a DD anti by their willingness to claim DD should have spoken openly about GG during the whole scandal last year. No one who knows anything about GG and DD or about the situation could say in good faith that DD should have spoken up. I view that whole attitude as a litmus test for who knows and understands and truly supports GGDD, and who is either uninformed or an anti.

You can read more about that here and here.

And no, GG has never issued any statement denying BJYXSZD. Neither of them has.

BJYXSZD is not based on old BTS and interviews

I sometimes get sick of seeing clips and photos and metas about the Untamed, I sometimes get tired of talking about the same old interview clips and BTS. I see these things as ancient history - something fun to visit every now and then, but not where I want to live. I don't base my present belief on any of that. All that stuff can ever really do now is give us background on how things started and give us a bit of insight into how they get along and interact.

No BXGSZD that I know of bases their belief on "old BTS and interviews."

Both GG and DD have interesting new projects and endorsements. There's a ton of new content coming out all the time. We still regularly see new evidence that they're together. The past stuff is just for context.

Wrapping this all up, I'll just reiterate what I said before. No one can, or even should, convince you that GGDD is real. That's something you'll have to make peace with for yourself. If you want to get there faster, just relax and enjoy being a fan, and take some time to learn more about GGDD. Certainty may come in time. If it doesn't, well at least you had fun!

Since you are a newer fan I recommend checking out my BXG glossary, along with my masterlist post for some of the things I've talked about in the past.

[juminly]

As The Rush Comes (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)

Summary: You are at a nightclub with your friend Theodorus Van Gogh. The problem is, you want to be more than friends. Does he feel the same? Hell yes. Change is bound to happen. And it does. This one-shot was inspired by the song As the Rush Comes.   Read all 3 parts on AO3. Rating: Mature (explicit/coarse language, detailed mention of sexual acts) 

Tags: Modern AU, mutual pining, sexual tension/frustration, jealousy, dirty dancing. 

Warning: mention of the reader not remembering the events of a past night of heavy drinking and partying.  Word Count: 3500 approx. 

Club Music Playlist *Kiss you by Nadia Ali **Down to Love (Kyau & Albert Remix) by Armin Van Buuren feat. Ana Criado

***Still I Wait (Richard Durand’s In Search of Sunrise Remix) by Jonas Steur feat. Jennifer Rene. 

Song lyrics are in bold; look at this asterisks to know which song is playing in the background and play the song as you read -------------------------- *I'd wake up, and make love to you if I had you, I would touch you so much, but I'm not allowed to… Nadia Ali, bless her heart, was only adding salt to your wounds. You were already feeling salty enough for feeling the way you did and she didn’t make it any better. Why were you salty? While the song went on and on about how the vocalist just needed to wait for the perfect moment to kiss the one she wanted to show love to, you were here lamenting pathetically over Theodorus Van Gogh, the man that occupied your every waking thought and dream… and most recent fantasies.

The music was thrumming loudly in your ears, the discographies selected by this particular local DJ was always to your liking. The rhythmic beat of trance sending the club-goers into an ephemeral state of rapture as the dancefloor flocked with writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat and sex heady in the air. Were people living in some sort of state of drought? The thirst was real… and so palpable. You were not one to judge, you felt it too.

Thud… Thud… Thud… Was that the music or your pulse? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Would you pretend, we're only friends, if I kissed you, At least I can dream of you in a scene, when I'd kiss you.

You’ve dreamed of so many scenes, in so many different locations and in all of them, you were in the most compromising situations and positions. Holy fuck, just thinking about how those icy blue eyes staring into you while he lazily ran his tongue over his swollen lips, the ones you wanted to kiss and bite so damn much, that chiseled body of his positioned between your… No.. No… You told yourself you wouldn’t go there but your mind couldn’t help but wander.  The song had just been coaxing you to act on your impulses and you covered your ears, just to keep Nadia from tempting you more than you already were.

How many months has it been since the incident?

The office hottie, Arthur Conan Doyle, had thrown an extravagant birthday bash in his so-called crib, and to your own surprise, the man had exquisite taste and the entire thing was planned immaculately. Who had been his wingman during the entire process? The hot mister that was your companion at the club for the night. That was how, when and where you met him, much to your dismay.

You heard that things had gotten hot and heavy between you during that birthday party and you were literally flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried into Arthur’s bedroom. Things had gotten that heated… However, big emphasis on the word “heard” cause you unfortunately don’t remember jackshit from that fateful night and cursed yourself all the time for this.

His hands roughly groping you and his lips fiercely crashing down on yours… The things that could’ve happened… The things you could’ve done… You could ONLY imagine. Imagine, yes. Remember, no. The heavens indisputably had some mocking plot to make you miserable. Miserable? You definitely were. After that night, you were thrown into the friendzone. With a capital F.

Pining after a man that wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless it was to ruffle your hair like some puppy. You almost got your chance at some type of romance in your uneventful life… Still, things only got interesting when that asshole suddenly showed up, but it wasn’t like you were actually willing to admit that to him. You’d rather swallow his… Brain and heart, focus. Libido and hormones, get the fuck away. He wants me… He wants me not… I want everything he’s got.

Shut it, Nadia. You were already drowning in heaps of doubt and you’ve clearly… clearly had enough of her feeding you more fantasies and unlawful and excessively unadulterated thoughts and you were doubting yourself already. And what you decided to do? Drink yourself into oblivion, accompanied by the vexing perpetrator who had just gotten back from the men’s room. It was admiration and pining time for you. As he slowly approached you with long and sure strides, Theodorus was, is and will always be probably the most gorgeous, handsome piece of eye-candy that you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you were 99.99% sure that this statement was your true and unbiased opinion.

Beige dress pants hugged the length of those legs that carried him, giving you the chance to drool over the definition of his stature that you could see thanks to the tightness of the fabric, emphasizing a bit too much for your liking on his… No, don’t go there. Heat flooded your reddened cheeks as your thoughts scrambled wildly in your mind as he found his seat next to you. That’s always where you found yourselves. Together. Always. You get along so well. It’s bound to be this way, right? The string of fate and the butterflies of time managed to find a way to bring you together. While your internal ruminations besieged your mind, a rich baritone touched your ears, unmistakably his. “We probably should leave soon. I don’t want to suffocate in this clothed orgy.” You shot him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate on his point. “You look like you’re about to melt in that pretty little dress of yours, Hondje. I’d rather hop to any pub or have a drink at that klootzak’s place and deal with his moaning than this. At least his place isn’t as filthy as this hellish kennel.”

“You talk like an old man, Theo. Why don’t we just try to live a little?” He simply gave you a glare, a response that you knew very well. He wasn’t going to waste his breath on such mundane frivolities. It seemed that you would have to take the drinking party elsewhere. Clubs were clearly not Theo’s favourite destination.

You couldn’t help but giggle at this man’s dog analogies. As much as they pissed the shit out of you… Wait. Rewind. Did he just compliment what you were wearing...? He noticed?

For the first time in a while, you decided to try “letting loose” and go for something different. You would usually go for something, more like, anything black but today was different. In celebration of whatever weird feeling and eccentricity that came over you, you decided to go for a skimpy off-the-shoulder purple dress that kissed every curve of your luscious form, barely reaching the top of your mid-thigh and pushed your bosom in a way that accentuated your cleavage. You felt hot and you wanted to feel hot too.

**It's down to love tonight, This is where we are, As we turn into the light, Let’s make it last...

On any other day, Down to Love would’ve been one of your favourite songs to listen to but definitely not today. You were clearly not down to any kind of love. This is not where you wanted to be and you didn’t want this to last. You growled under your breath, enough to have Theodorus, the man of the hour… no, he was the man of your every-fucking-day and your every-goddamn-dream and fantasy, tilt his head to the side to cast a judging gaze at you, raising an arched eyebrow with a silent what-the-fuck is wrong with you.

There was so much that was wrong with you and he was the cause of it all. The prime suspect. The only one, this maddeningly handsome asshole.

Lips slick with moisture, your eyes lingered a little too long on the inviting gleam before you attempted to relax in your seat, while Theo remained hunched apathetically over the bar counter, nursing his drink thoughtlessly. Both of you were so accustomed to whatever it was that you were doing, you fell into a pattern that soon began to feel more like a ritual. You couldn’t even remember how you became his drinking buddy but there was something that Arthur said once… Both of you were not the type to party hard so it made it hard for him to have fun with the both of you, even though Theo and him spent an obscene amount of time together. You were kindred spirits. That was a fact.

Being around him made it hard to breathe. You noticed that not only the first button of his shirt was open, but now, the second one was too, giving you a good look of impeccably sculpted pectorals, his skin shining under the epilepsy-inducing lights of the nightclub while drops of sweats meandered down to places unknown, unexplored… and desired. With one arm propped on the counter and leaning his full weight to one side, his form was completely angled towards you and his eyes roamed appraisingly over your provocative dress and your overall physique. You knew that look, you’ve seen it before. It was the same way he scrutinized and examined art.

His gaze was now posed on your thighs, your dress hiked up even more on your silky skin as you crossed and uncrossed your legs restlessly. “Looking at something, big guy? My eyes are up here. You’ve been checking me out since we got here.” you quipped with a smirk. “Hm?” he hummed, as if you had ripped him away from the depth of his thoughts. You could see a faint blush on the top of his cheekbones… It was clearly only a sign of inebriation. Right? “Oh, I was just wondering who you’re trying to seduce.” he replied blankly before continuing. “You wouldn’t need to dress up like this to impress me.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wettening it before throwing his head back, draining his glass of whiskey and turning his body away, leaving you perplexed by his words.  What… What exactly did he mean by that? Shaking your thoughts away, you had enough wine in your system to finally get the words spilling from your lips. “Theo… Wanna dance?” Those three words prickled his ear drums and he turned to look at you with a judging smirk. “Is it playtime, Hondje?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at his expected remark, climbing off your bar stool and tapping your heeled foot on the black tile beneath you. Looking at him expectantly, your heart clenched, momentarily regretting your decision to build up the courage to take the first step. He was bound to embarass you somehow.

“I’m sure you can find lots of other pups and mutts to play with in that disgusting pile of bodies.” An affronted expression washed over his handsome face and you resisted the need to slap his smugness away. You began to tremble slightly and snapped at him “You suck, Theo!”. His reaction made you freeze for a second. His eyes were taking you in, gliding over your body from head to toe before locking with yours. “Would you like to take me for a test drive? Are you in heat, Hondje?” he practically purred.

“Fuck you, Theo.” Was he capable of doing anything but frustrate (and arouse) you? You could feel an intense heat building inside of you, your heart beating angrily in your chest as you seethed from his response. You blinked, completely outraged and offended as he dared to freaking chuckle at your contained outburst.

“You wish. Now, can you go bark at someone else and let me enjoy my bloody drink?” Not wanting to give him more of your precious time, you actually flipped him the bird this time, scowling at him in disbelief, all that wine in your blood giving way for your tongue to sharpen as the night went on. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”

The ear-splitting grin on Theo’s face suddenly transformed into a smirk… and a scowl? when a young man behind you asked you to dance. You couldn’t really register what the guy was saying. Something along the lines of “ I don’t know if he’s just stupid or blind” and honestly, you kind of agreed with him. As much as Theodorus Van Gogh was a genius at what he did, he was stupid for not giving in to you. You were ready to give him… your everything. You were in deep shit, being so in love with a man who would possibly not return your affections? He looked like the incarnation of heartbreak and didn’t that just make you giddy? Being around him almost made you… sarchotic.

Sarchotic or not. Now you had his full attention.

Those ocean blue eyes were trained on you, an unfamiliar predatorial aura reverberating from him, still seeping through Theodorus’ attempt to enshroud it with the negligible quirk of those lips, that half-smile that you knew too well. If he wanted a show, he’s gonna be getting one. Not that you really cared whether he enjoyed it or not, but the least you could do is actually enjoy the company of the… You looked at your newly appointed dance partner, who had just lead you to the dancefloor, to evaluate him.

Okay, he wasn’t too bad: a bit shorter and less muscular than Theo but his hair were waves of chocolate brown that were simply asking to be threaded through and pulled. You beamed at your partner, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your blood, knowing that the handsome Dutch man had his eyes on you and you were going to put a damn show. Wait, it wasn’t a show. You were doing this for you. You didn’t give a fuck and just wanted to have some fun. Looking at the cutie in front of you, you raised your arms in the air and jumped to the beat of the music, body-rolling as you let the sinful rhythm of your racing thoughts lead your every movement. ***I wanted it, I needed it, I love the way your skin felt upon my skin, And I thought you felt the same but you threw me away, Threw me away and still

The man in front of you was definitely getting into the groove, slowly inching close to you and you were more than ready to welcome him. Your hands that were in the air were now resting on his shoulders, your fingers finding the inviting chocolate strands of his hair. His hands were on both sides of your hips, claiming control over the frantic sway of your hips, matching the booming tempo that filled the room. You licked your lips and bit them, feeling your heart race as you snuck a quick look at the bar counter, the expression on Theodorus’ face was absolutely feral… and bloodthirsty.

Good thing you had bitten your lips because you were about to let out an obscene moan as he looked like he was ready to slam you into a wall and fuck you senseless, growling in your ear: You’re already so wet for me, Hondje, so ready for me to slide inside you…. You’ve been teasing me all damn night and when I stuff you with my cock, make you mine… You’ll be screaming my name. A looming presence was suddenly behind you, a hand gripping your hip and forcefully pulling you away from the “cutie”. You had absolutely no idea what happened, when it happened and how it happened. You could’ve sworn that you heard something along the lines of “She’s mine” but it was most probably your brain playing tricks on you. Or not.

“Are you trying to play games with me, Knabbeltje?” His heavy hand on your hip clenched tightly, his fingertips digging in your soft flesh while you drank in the rumble of his voice in your ear, velvety smooth yet deep enough to shake you to the bone, capable of making your knees buckle in weakness. You fought the temptation to rub your legs together and continued the lascivious sway of your hips from side to side in a rhythm that was your own and one that Theodorus would come to learn. Cutie, who? Theodorus was the only person you knew. All your senses acutely aware of him and he made sure of that. Only a breath of air seperated your bodies yet, he was so close but still felt so far before he yanked your back brusquely, your back hitting the vast plain of his chest and the softness of your derriere grazing his crotch. You closed your eyes and hummed with a nonchalant tone, your back arching as you reached your arms behind you, gripping Theo by his nape and threading your digits leisurely through his chestnut locks.

“You really want to know, hm?” You crooned and he tensed briefly but soon relaxed behind you, one hand caressing the curve of your hips, his hold on you was firm and steady, making you feel the heat radiating from his body and enveloping you with the scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey, intoxicating you even more than the wine you drank.

One of his large hands snakes up the curve of your waist, lightly grazing the side of your soft mound and trailing up your neck and resting there. He rolled his hips against yours, your body following his every moment as he dictated your every single motion. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he crooned sultrily in your ear. “I could eat you all up, Knabbeltje… right fucking now.” I don't wanna feel rejection, don't wanna have no regrets… Is this a good decision or will you look for someone else? Leave me all by myself...

“Is that so?” you could hear your own smile in your voice and could hear an inherent raspiness in it too. Your thoughts swiveled with yearning and your judgement was clouded by your love for this man… and your inebriation. Your mutual ministrations continued as he grinded his hips at an excruciating pace, drawing out the torture that you were both suffering from. His long fingers were now teasing the column of your neck, careening over your sensitive skin and sending shivers up and down your spine. Slowly, he wrapped his hand on your neck, pressing only lightly and bit the tip of your earlobe before sucking on it, letting his tongue glide over its seams. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You want me to repeat myself?”

“I didn’t say any such thing, Theodorus.” You dared to use his full name, intentionally triggering him. His grip tightened on your neck and warm breath caressing your ear. “I’m not all bark like you.” He truly thought that you were all bark but you were prepared and intended to do lots of biting, now that he was so near. You tightened your grip on his strands, making him groan in response. “I hate that you make me feel this way.” you breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the tightening of anticipation rousing in your chest. “Enlighten me… What kind of way do I make you feel, hm?” It was now his turn to tease you. “You know how I feel about you…” you pouted, grudgingly taking a sharp inhale before you carried on with this morphed, semblance of a confession. “You keep… you keep messing with my head, Theo.”

“You’re doing much worse to me, mijn liefste.” Oh God, you didn’t know what he said but you were positive that it was not some dog related insult and your heart drummed even harder in your chest. Why did this man have so much control over you? His voice was like whiskey and chocolate, dark, decadent and  heavy with yearning, a blazing fire in your core, an excited tremor coursed through your veins like lightning, but not once did you rush the wicked to and fro of your hips, brushing your softness against the harsh ropes of sinew that made him the Adonis that he was.

Your cheeks were rosy as the pink dusk that painted clear skies and he saw that as you twisted your chest to look back and up at him. His fierce stare reflected in your glimmering eyes, your pupils dilating clearly, making them appear almost darkened in their shade. It would be blasphemous to say that Theodorus was anything but completely mesmerizing. “Don’t give me those eyes, Knabbeltje... or I promise I’ll take you here and now.”

I love to see you smile, I love, my love… As much as the thought had you reeling, you wanted the awaited spectacle to be a private one. Gazing straight in his almost glowing orbs of sapphire, he had the look of a man who was born ready to ravage you and rearrange your insides. Leaning down, he drawled against your lips with a huskiness that sent you into a frazzled state of need.

“When I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you always remember it. The only thing that’s gonna spill from those pretty lips is my name.”

------------ Read Part II  HERE.  Tagging le Theo simp squad + those who have been so kind to send me their ideas on what the “dirty dancing scenario” should be like: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf​ (sorry if I forgot anyone else)  Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

[nineteenninety-six]

Cookies

Ignore the title, it’s not completely relevant to the story lmao

More domestic Oscar fluff!!

Connected-ish to ‘Father Issues’

Oscar stared at the three-year-old who sat in front of him and the three-year-old stared right back at him with wide eyes.. (Y/N) had gone away for the day for to visit her elderly grandparents, leaving Oscar to look after Javier by himself for the whole day. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before because he has, several times but it was much easier when Javier was baby, all Oscar had to do was, feed him, change his diaper when needed and let him sleep for most of the day but a toddler was a completely different game. He has a walking, talking, bouncing toddler and Oscar has no idea how to keep him entertained the whole day.

“What do you and mamá usually do?” Oscar asked his son.

“Umm...cookies?” Javier hummed.

Oscar glanced at the kitchen before frowning, he was a great cook but he didn’t do desserts and sweet things. “You bake with mamá?”

“Uh-huh!” Javier nodded with a large smile, “Can we make some?”

“How about we go out and buy some?”

Javier jumped off the sofa and ran over to the front door, the mention of cookies getting him excited, “Go! Go!”

Oscar laughed, ���Aye, wait a minute little man. We gotta get you dressed first.”

It took record time to get Javier dressed for the day, the usually active toddler sat still and allowed his father to get him dressed and when he was, he ran ahead to the door again and waited for his father.

“Papá!” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Oscar snickered.

Oscar and Javier went straight to the candy aisle as soon as they entered the grocery store, wasting no time. Javier ran ahead a picked up the cookies they usually buy and placed it in the basket, Oscar was carrying and Oscar himself added to the basket and when Javier saw his father placing more candy in the basket, he copied him and it didn’t take long until the basket was full of cookies and other candies.

Oscar kissed his teeth at the sight of the filled basket, “I think we may have overdone it, Javi.”

“Nuh-uh.” Javier shook his head, “We can eat it all!”

“I bet we could” Oscar tickled Javier’s neck, smiling at his son’s squeals and squirming, “But I don’t think your mamá will like that I gave you so much sugar.”

Javier pouted as he gazed at the basket full of goodies, “We can keep it a secret.”

“Mamá always knows when we’re lying.” Oscar reminded his son, “How about we put some back and then pick up some ingredients so we can make mamá dinner tonight?”

Javier hummed, “Okay.”

They went to work, putting back half of the excessive amount of junk food they had in their basket before they moved over to the fresh produce aisle, Javier helping Oscar place things in the basket.

When they returned, Oscar played around with Javier until it got late enough to start on dinner where he slipped Javier little pieces of food to keep him satisfied.

“Oh my!” 

The gasp from (Y/N) made Oscar whip his head around, he didn’t even hear the door open or hear her approach them in the kitchen. She had a bright smile on her face as she walked into the kitchen,

“Did you cook for me?”

Oscar made his way over to where she was standing and brought her into a brief hug before kissing her. 

“We did. You surprised?”

“Oh, so surprised.” (Y/N) grinned at him.

“Mamá!” Javier came running over to them.

“Mijo!” (Y/N) caught him in her arms and lifted him up, pressing kisses all around his face, “How was your day baby? Did you have fun with papá?”

“Yea!” Javier chirped, “I helped papá cook!”

Oscar snorted at his words, “By help, he means he wouldn’t stop crying until I gave him pieces of food.”

“That sounds like help to me.” (Y/N) cooed.

Javier nodded in agreement making his parents laugh. 

That night after they finished dinner and Javier was put to bed, Oscar and (Y/N) cuddled up on the sofa and watched a movie,

“I know you were slightly nervous but you did good.” (Y/N) murmured to Oscar, “You’re a good dad, Osc. Don’t doubt yourself.”

Oscar smiled at her and gave her a kiss, he loved her in ways he couldn’t describe and was forever grateful that they had a family together

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evelyn Doyle

Basics

Full Name: Evelyn Rose Doyle

Birthday: April 22, 1984

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Powers: Wielder of the Flaming Sword granting her super strength, agility and healing, the gift of Sight (the ability to see one’s true form, i.e., a human’s soul or a magic’s creatures true face), and mastery of light magic

Appearance

Ethnicity: Irish

Skin Tone: Pale with freckles

Eye Color: Dark Blue

Hair Color: Light red

Hairstyle: Long and curly, usually pulled into a braid while on a mission, but otherwise down

Makeup: Natural

Build: Curvy and stronger than she looks

Height: 5’ 6’’

Style: Light colors favoring a girl next door aesthetic

Personality

General Personality Traits: Compassionate, Loyal, Self-Sacrificing

Strengths: Empathy, Determination, Reliability

Flaws: Stubborn, Self-Doubt, Narrow Minded

Habits And Mannerisms: She often fiddles with her neckless when she’s nervous or thinking, hums to herself, hair twirler

Secrets: Lost her virginity to when she was 17 to a boy from a different school, they weren’t even dating at the time; she felt so guilty after she didn’t tell anybody for years

Regrets: Allowing herself to be controlled by so many people for most of her life

Skills/Talents: Skilled artist, she likes to sketch and paint in her spare time, talented swordsman, can read Latin and speak Irish, and has a nice clear singing voice

Likes: 60s and 70s Rock, the smell of clean laundry, clear nights full of bright stars

Dislikes: Math with anything involving letters, dirty dishes left in the sink overnight, bullies

Guilty Pleasure: Playing music over the speakers late at night and dancing in the kitchen by herself

Defining Moment: The moment she realizes wasn’t chosen by the sword to strictly uphold the will of God. She is human and as a human, she has free will. The sword may have been gifted to her by God, but it is her choices that give it meaning and purpose. The sword is hers and no demon or angel can take it from her.

Relationships

Friends: Everybody on the Waverider, but she gets on best with Amaya, Sara, and Nate

Family: Michael Doyle (younger brother), Peter Doyle (father, deceased), Rebecca Doyle (mother), Ester Kelly (grandmother, deceased)

Enemies: Legion of Doom, Demons, and basically all the other baddies the Legends face

Rivals: More of a friendly rivalry with her brother when he starts dabbling in magic

Lovers: TBA (maybe John Constantine later, jury is still out)

Relationship Status: Single

Reputation: Mom friend of any given friend group she finds herself in, which unfortunately bleeds into her romantic relationships; has a tendency to attract men who are looking for a Mom rather than a girlfriend

Miscellaneous

Current Residence: The Waverider

Collections: Hair pins from different eras and countries across the timeline; she likes the artistry

Accent: Irish

Voice: Clear and soothing

Signature Quote: “Have a little faith.”

Song: TBA

Backstory

Evelyn was born to Rebecca and Peter Doyle on the border of Northern Ireland in 1984. Her family was decidedly Catholic, and raised her that way from an early age. She was a very loving child, ready to curl up with her parents and seeking their approval, which they gladly gave.

When she was five years old, her brother Michael was born. From the second they brought him home, Evelyn understood it was her duty to be his big sister. She helped feed and change him. She helped him to walk and to talk, and did her best to look out for him. This was widely encouraged by her mother, but her father tried not to put too much pressure on her. She was still his little girl, and he wanted her to make sure she was allowed to stay that way. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last.

In 1992, her father was killed in a bombing. He wasn’t taking part in the protest, simply walking to work.

Her mother was left devastated, going essentially catatonic for a full year after. Their grandmother, Ester, came to live with them during this time. While she did look after them, and loved them dearly, it was clear her main objective was to look after her daughter.

Evelyn took over watching after Michael. She walked with him to and from school. She made breakfast and lunch boxes. She made sure he did his homework, and picked up around the house. She had a sense that she had to cause as few problems as possible for her mother and gran, and so did just that.

When her mother became more functional, their gran moved out of the house, but stuck close by. Still, her mother was never quite the same. She was often forgetful, and Evelyn was left to pick up the rest.

Michael didn’t make it easy. While he wasn’t a bad kid, and loved her like mad, he would often get in trouble at school. More than once he picked fights with bullies or would say something in class that would get him in trouble. Evelyn always covered for him, talking to the teacher, or erasing the messages the school sent before their mom listened to them.

Michael in turn, tried his best to look after his sister, usually in the form of trying to fight boys twice his size when they made on off color joke. Or nicking some candy from the corner market when she was having a bad day.

They continued like this until she was old enough to go to college. She entered wanting to get a degree in child psychology, with the idea of becoming a school consular or family therapist. However, she never got the chance. During her second year of grad school, her gran died leaving nobody to look after her mom.

She came back home with the idea that as soon as Michael was out of college and got a job she’d go back to school and finish her degree. So, she took a job in a customer service call center and helped look after her mom in the meantime.

She ended up staying there for six years as her brother tried and failed to land a secure job. He never seemed to be able to hold down a position for more than six months and would use the time in-between to run minor cons or commit petty theft. Evelyn soon became a regular face at the police station, continuously bailing him out for small time crimes. Eventually it became too much.

One night, after getting him out for breaking and entering, she let it all out, telling him how tired she is of him expecting her to hold the bag while he gets his life together. Michael didn’t take it lying down, countering that she expected him to drop everything to look after a woman who didn’t even raise them. They kept arguing until Evelyn stormed out, needing to clear her head.

Eventually she found herself at the local church, and took a place in the back to think and pray. As she did, an old man she didn’t recognized approached her. He was dressed as a priest, and Evelyn assumed he was new in town. He then asked her what she prayed for, and she explained the argument she had with her brother, and all that had led to it. The priest nodded and asked her if she resented God for putting her through these trials. She answered with confidence that God would not present her with any trial she could not overcome.

Pleased with her answer, the priest showed her to the back and to the hilt of a sword displayed beneath the crucifix. He instructed her to take the hilt. When she did, she was hit with a vision.

In the vision, an angel pulled her soul from her body and cast it into a fire, but rather than burn it shone brighter, extinguishing the flames. The angel then returned her soul, simply stating that she was satisfactory. She woke up on the floor of the church, the hilt of the sword now possessing a perfect bright blade.

The priest explained the sword was the famed Flaming Sword used to guard the garden of Eden. He said her story led him to believe she had all the qualities required of the wielder; faith, compassion, and sacrifice. The vision she had was the final test of her true self, which she had passed. He instructed her to follow the will of the sword, and said it would lead her to where she was needed most.

Armed with this new sense of purpose, Evelyn ran home and tried her best to explain to Michael what had happened.

Michael assumed she went mad and tried to get her calm enough to go to a doctor the next morning, but Evelyn refused. That night, she packed her bags left without a word.

She spent the next six months traveling from monastery to monastery gaining knowledge and instruction on how best to use the sword and the powers that came with it.

And it is in one of these monasteries, Rip Hunter finds her and asks if she would like to join him on his mission to save the future.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Gravity

Hi! Okay, so here’s chapter two of my growing back together story, inspired by the prompt “I won’t hurt you” @rosegardeninwinter sent me. I also posted this fic on AO3 under the title Gravity (like the Sara Bareilles song), if that’s where you prefer to read. And here’s a link to chapter one of this fic if you wanna read and haven’t yet.

Also I know I said in my first author’s note that there will be three chapters, but there might be a bit more.... we love an over-writer, right? 🤷🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I don’t know if you’re “supposed” to post every part of a multi chapter fic on here? Or just post the link to it on AO3? But for now I posted it in its entirety on here 😊.

Anyways, hope you like it! And thanks to anyone who reads! 💖💖💖

/

A couple months later.

We slide back after that. I don't know if that night-the night he had a nightmare that I died and we slept locked in each other's embrace-moved too quickly for Peeta or if he thought he was protecting me from him, but when morning light came, he was gone from the bed.

I didn't see him again until the following evening, helping Haymitch feed his rambunctious geese in the yard. He didn't speak to me for four more days after that, and when he did, it was to ask what kind of bread I wanted him to bring for lunch the next day.

I pretended to his face that it didn't hurt. That waking up in a cold, empty bed, in a house he all but abandoned until I had evacuated, that sleeping in his arms and awaking so abruptly alone, didn't hurt. I did what I had taught myself to do as a child and I turned my features into an indifferent mask, shutting off all access to my emotions. Destroying any possibility of anyone witnessing my vulnerabilities.

But I knew deep down, it did hurt. It hurt badly.

I didn't speak to him directly the first week he showed up for lunch and to work on the memory book again. I got by fine without addressing him directly, as Haymitch somehow sensed the bubbling tension between us and stayed sober just enough to remain alert for all our shared meals. He helped with the memory book, helped by adding in a snarky comment here or there to reel our focuses onto him instead of each other.

I wanted to say thank you but I never knew how. I doubt Haymitch needs me to verbalize it anyway. One night, as he follows behind Peeta to leave, his hand grazes my shoulder and gives it a squeeze and I know he's much more aware of the dynamic between his old tributes than he leads on.

But weeks after the night in question, the night that set Peeta and my friendship back months, we receive a telegraph from Effie. A telegraph that shakes the small amount of stability we've managed to build in the time since the war.

Apparently President Paylor has decided to move forward with arena destruction, an idea mentioned a few times by Plutarch on Caesar's talk show. An idea I didn't take seriously until now.

Paylor has decided to build a memorial for each of the arenas, for each year the games ever took place, to immortalize our history, so Panem can never forget how cruel and inhumane things once were. But first, she wants to eliminate the actual Hunger Games arenas, once and for all, before putting the memorials in their place.

My initial thought, months ago when Delly showed me Plutarch and Caesar discussing the idea, was that this would takes years to happen.

I was, once again, so clearly wrong. The plans have been expedited and the order in which each arena will be decimated has been swiftly decided.

All that alone doesn't sound terrible. I'd like to see those death pits crushed, burned, torn down, eradicated, or all of the above, by any means necessary. Only downside, initially, is that this will extend me—and Peeta and potentially all the other victors—remaining in the forefront of the public's mind.

Since the war, all I've ever wanted was for everyone in the country to forget who I am. I don't want to be known anymore. I just want to be left alone, to a quiet and peaceful and relatively simple life, without anyone ever recognizing me again. Without anyone thinking of me as the girl on fire, as the Mockingjay, as the sixteen-year-old who volunteered for a sister who was doomed to death anyway.

But, of course, there's a catch. There's always a catch.

Plutarch thinks it would be great to have the living victors be there—televised—in the Capitol and see the arenas before they're bulldozed.

Even with this dreadful proposition, I thought I had time to think of a way out of it. When Effie first sent the telegraph, I thought that I would have years before having to worry about going back to the places where my nightmares started.

Well, some of my nightmares, that is.

After all, it takes time to destroy something as large and as vast as an arena-excluding the way I destroyed the one in the Quell, that is. I figured-I rationalized, really-that by the time they got to number Seventy-Four, I would have a solid excuse to get out of attending.

I guess though they wished to start with the big years and the first decade of the Hunger Games wasn't very eventful, apparently—lucky them—so the first arena they wish to bid farewell to is the one from the second Quarter Quell. The Fiftieth Hunger Games. The one that was so strikingly beautiful and almost entirely poisonous.

The year Haymitch Abernathy, from the lowly District Twelve, won.

And being also from Twelve, my presence, along with Peeta's, suddenly became of the utmost importance as well.

At first, I still try to opt out of the event. Even after Effie chastises me over the phone, like not a day has passed since she was my escort, and even after my mother claims in her letter that it could be cathartic for me, I do not relent.

Delly and Thom and a few of the others in the community, like Kanon who runs the candy shop two stores away from the bakery, and Greta, who helps with the dusting and mopping all over town, try to say that it could be good for me. Greasy Sae claims it can't be worse than actually living through the games, and I silently appreciate her much more blatant statement than the comforting platitudes others try to provide me.

But it all falls on deaf ears in the end.

Because the only person I truly listen to is Peeta. Even bitter and wounded, the only person I really hear is him.

Unfortunately, as irritating as it is sometimes, his voice will always reach me when others can't.

But we don't ever have an actual conversation about it. Five days after Effie calls to announce the news, to tell me unequivocally that my presence is requested, Peeta sways me to go with just a look.

He comes over later than usual and brings extra bread and pastries to go with the deer meat I hunted. We feast silently, the air between us still incredibly awkward, when, without warning, our old mentor comes crashing through the door unceremoniously.

I don't know how much alcohol he consumed, but it's enough to knock even someone with Haymitch's tolerance off his feet.

By the end of the hour, the older man is practically beating his head into the wall of my dining room, screaming the names of dead children and about force fields and axes. And from across the kitchen table, Peeta touches my arm—the first time he's voluntarily touched me in weeks—and my eyes meet his, blue pouring into gray, and silently he begs me to go for the goodbye ceremony to Haymitch's arena.

And I give in. Not just for him. But also, in large part, to repay the caustic, miserable drunk that kept us alive. To support the unpredictable, temperamental man that I do consider my family somehow.

The ceremony is set to take place weeks later and the time does little to alleviate my anxiety. Peeta and me still don't speak much, but come time for lunch or dinner, there he is, in my house like clockwork.

When I point out, a few days before we're due at the train station, that there's a very realistic possibility that the Capitol won't let me go to the ceremony, Peeta casually says, "I already cleared that with Effie and Plutarch."

I shoot him a look of surprise. "You did?"

Shrugging nonchalantly before turning back to the rabbit on his plate, he murmurs quietly, "Thought it'd give you one less thing to worry about."

The ceremony is nothing like I expect. Somehow I figured there would be an obnoxiously large television crew, loud speakers, prepared speeches on written cards, awkward directions and crowds upon crowds of people surrounding us, asking pointed questions, shooting invasive stares and pressing for reactions to their nosy accusations. I expected those accusations to be directed at me and Peeta especially.

Instead, there's none of those things. There's no crowd at all, it's just us victors. Just Enobaria, Johanna, Annie, the three of us from Twelve and Beetee—who I still can't make myself so much as look at, reminded of my sister's absence and his role in it every time we so much as stand in five feet vicinity of each other.

The camera crew consists of Mitchell, Pollux and Cressida, along with two unfamiliar, but seemingly non-threatening faces. There's no directions, no prompting, not close ups or reshoots.

All that happens is Paylor makes a statement that the crew films, stating that the arenas will be destroyed one by one, and in the place of each there will be an individual memorial made, as we victors stand in an unorganized, crooked line that will surely make Effie cringe when she sees the footage on television later.

It's almost peaceful, I think to myself in surprise, as I look around at the location. The sky is a stunning cobalt, even more brilliant in person than in the video Peeta and I watched on the train so long ago. The meadow looks like the grass is fresh, like it was just watered yesterday. The mountain is so breathtaking I have to physically tear my eyes away from it and even the woods look rather cozy. Or maybe that part is just me.

There's also arraignments of flowers, just like in the footage we watched, that spill every which way, filling our noses with soothing, floral scents. It feels unnatural to say about a place set up for murder, but with the deadly poisons lurking at every turn eviscerated, I almost can find this arena truly beautiful.

Of course though, it's not my arena.

It's Haymitch's and he looks like he's about to be sick. He's white-knuckled it for a few days without any sort of drink—to my, Peeta's and, even Effie's, visible shock—and I can see plainly now that he's absolutely regretting it. His eyes are hallow and wild at the same time and I can see his shaking palms beneath the sleeves of his jacket as he stares out at the source of his every nightmare for the last quarter century.

It shocks me that he didn't find a way out of this. Actually, it shocks me still that these ceremonies are even possible.

I never knew they kept arenas after the games were over each year. I never realized they kept all seventy-four death pits, haunted by child sacrifice, the way you keep old vases on a shelf.

At this point though, it's just another thing to add onto the growing list of horrific and unthinkable issues that the Capitol doesn't even grasp. Keeping the haunted graveyards of children as souvenirs shouldn't sit right with anyone, I don't care how you're raised.

I tell myself to not be so quick to judge, as I can't know who I'd be if I had been born in the Capitol instead of the districts. Still, the idea of condoning the things they have without remorse or shame seems unthinkable.

I'm torn out of my thoughts when Cressida speaks. "Is there anything you'd like to say, Haymitch, before we finish filming?"

Once again, catching me off-guard entirely—he's full of all sorts of surprises evidently—Haymitch clears his throat and looks down at his leather boots before speaking. "Ardor. Garnett. Dolan. Silver. Ryker. Artemis. Slayte. Pistol. Lex. Mac. Lumen. Gig. Brook. Aqua. Mary. Ripley. Lyme. Watt. Rocky. Gio. Belle. Raven. Kia. Mecko. Barker. Jack. Holly. Briar. Essie. Stitch. Coco. Paul. Mira. Miller. Coop. Harvey. Butch. Cutter. Bea. Skinna. Basil. Sunny. Rip. Spring. Oaker. Terra. Maysilee." He lists off the names in a way that is so matter-of-fact that it would almost be robotic if it weren't for the hoarseness in his tone that grows stronger with every name he utters. He hesitates for only a moment before adding, "Corentine. Alannah. Alastar."

There's a long stretch of silence, where no one speaks, no one blinks, no one even breathes. We all know instinctively who these people are—I know solely from Maysilee Donner's name being called—but we still wait until Haymitch speaks again, to confirm our assumption.

"Those are the names of all the people this arena killed." His eyes grow glassy and his brow furrows in anger as he fights desperately to repress his emotions, and suddenly I have the strangest urge to hug my mentor, to make him feel better like he tried to do for me once when Peeta was stuck in the Capitol and I was distraught. But I know it wouldn't be appreciated or wanted, and quite honestly I'm glad for that, because I don't even know what to say.

The last three names Haymitch said stick in my head for some reason I can't explain other than an odd gut feeling. But then he speaks again, an in a voice growing gruffer by the second, he says right into the camera, "that's every single person who was killed because of the second Quarter Quell."

And, like I should have known all along, it hits me the last three names are the names of his family who were murdered to punish him for the stunt with the forcefield.

The last three names are the murders of the last people he loved. Until me and Peeta came along.

As if his thoughts matched mine, Haymitch suddenly shakes his head and his eyes widen again as he stares past all the rest of us, as he continues to take in the exact place in which life as he knew it, twenty-six years ago, was altered forever.

His reaction is more understandable and genuine than I imagined he would ever allow it to be, especially on camera, and I want to say something but me and him both aren't good at saying anything, and I find myself looking to Peeta, hoping he'd know what to do.

Peeta doesn't meet my gaze though. He's solely focused on our mentor and just when he opens his mouth to speak, the older man to suddenly shake his head in our general direction and clears his throat.

"I'm done. Tell Plutarch I'm done with this crap. Just hurry up and bulldoze this place so I can go back to Twelve," is all he says to Cressida as he storms off, but his voice is rough and caustic once again, and I can only hope he recovers from this event soon enough.

Somehow, witnessing Haymitch relive his games, even through the shield he so obviously puts up to the outside world, triggers me though. For some reason, I feel my eyes begin to water as I look around at the meadow, at the mountain, at the golden cornucopia, and wonder how anyone could build a place where kids would eventually go to die? How could anyone have ever been so inhumane? How could a country just accept it? How did we live for so long with the Hunger Games overtaking our lives and still remained complicit? I don't understand. The more time passes, the more days I'm separated from the war and from the old world and the old way of life, I just can't comprehend anymore how we ever lived in a place so horrific.

I feel my eyes spill over and I'm grateful that Cressida has stopped filming already, because if Plutarch saw any tears on film, he would make certain it ended up on television.

I wipe my tears with the heel of my hand, trying to go about it as subtly as I can, hoping no one else notices. For the most part, I'm golden. Enobaria is already exiting, with Beetee following not far behind. Jo's back is to me while she speaks to Annie, though as per usual, she seems to be irritated.

Of course, it's too much to ask for everyone to remain oblivious to my waterworks. Even as I rid myself of them before they become widely noticeable, I feel Peeta's eyes train on me and know, despite the distance between us for the last few weeks, he isn't going to ignore my upset.

To my surprise though, he doesn't speak. He doesn't utter a single syllable.

Instead, I feel his large, warm palm slip into mine and squeeze tightly, lacing our fingers together, in a way we have done thousands of times before. Like two puzzle pieces coming together to complete a picture, like two indivisible teammates that will fight against anything that is thrown their way, like two halves of a whole finally finding each other, his hand grasps mine with a vengeance and I know I won't be the one who let's go.

He's still holding my hand when we board the train, hours later.

//

A couple weeks later.

"Yes, Mrs. Greenstead, I will get the chocolate nut loaf and a platter of the cranberry cookies wrapped up for you... Yes, it will be ready by the time you arrive... No, I promise they won't be cold," Peeta assures through the bakery telephone—a new addition that Thom and his wife thought was necessary to run a proper bakery. So necessary they bought it for Peeta as an opening gift.

It's not that the gesture wasn't nice or that Peeta didn't deeply appreciate it. I personally saw that he did, wholeheartedly.

But seeing it on the wall every day was just another reminder to me of my own personal vendetta against the integration between the Capitol's way of life and the districts'.

The only place telephones used to exist, outside of the Capitol limits, was the houses in Victor's Villiage, and if I'm being honest, I wish it would have stayed that way.

Maybe I'm being selfish, as I happen to still reside inside a house that once belonged to the said village, therefore I already had experienced this luxury prior to the new world. But I just can't make myself break the association between the items that had recently become readily available for all and the horror that was the Capitol.

Still though, the change was inescapable Telephones, cameras, heating pads, curling irons, quick bake ovens, cars and so many other items, were all growing in popularly across each district. Not that I was able to see a lot of these changes personally. But letters from Annie and my mom, and the occasional—unprompted and yet still begrudged—call from Jo, all kept me informed. Sometimes more informed than I wished to be.

Maybe I would feel entirely different if these inventions were brand new to me. But they aren't. I'd seen and used every one of them before. Their novelty had always been lost on me, perhaps because my only experience them was while inside the Capitol, surrounded by tacky colors and strong rose scents and itchy materials, headed for a death match, my life and the lives of those I cared always at great risk.

Of course, the new item in the bakery did make some things easier. Days like today are a perfect example.

Harvest Day is only one day away and everyone is coming in for their breads and their desserts. Peeta says it was always one of the most popular days, for as long as he can remember. Only difference is, before the war only Peacekeepers and town folks could afford to purchase anything. And generally, most citizens who even did come in, could only purchase a limited amount of items.

Not now. I don't know where everyone in Twelve was coming up with the money or if Peeta's prices are just a drastic drop from that of his mother's, but today, I swear I've seen every citizen in town inside the bakery.

Makes me glad that the portrait of me is hanging in the back, where no one else can see it. As pretty as it may be, as talented as Peeta is, I don't want a giant version of me displayed for all to see.

"Here you are," I politely say, handing two loaves of warm bread to a man who must be new to Twelve, as I've never seen him before. I'm debating on asking if he moved here recently when he passes a bill to me over the top of the pastry display.

"Thank you, hon." He smiles at me, looking at me a little too closely for my liking, as he swiftly walks out the door. His exit is met with the arrival of Val, a boy Peeta and I went to school with, who definitely was more Peeta's crowd than mine.

Val is a regular customer at the bakery, having always genuinely liked the Mellark family. His parents owned a small carpentry shop four spaces down from the bakery, and even with both them dead, he and his two sisters rebuilt the store, taking over their parents' legacy.

Peeta though is more focused on me now than Val's order. "Give me a second," he calls to his old friend, a little less polite than he had been all morning. "Katniss, what's wrong?" He asks urgently, seeing the look in my eyes.

I shake my head and push away the anxiety threatening to close in on me. "Nothing, just..." I hesitate, not even wanting to say it. Peeta's gaze refuses to lessen though and I sigh before finally mumbling, "That guy. He creeped me out. The way he was looking at me so closely..."

Peeta's hand touches my arm for a brief moment before pulling it away, making it obvious that he regrets the small act of even so much as touching me. But his words are still calming and they relax me a little. "He's gone now, Katniss. And if he scares you, I won't let him come back, okay? There's nothing anyone can do to you or me anymore. We're safe."

I nod, knowing the words like the back of my hand at this point, as it's the same mantra we always repeat to each other, every time one of us begins to panic or flail. But still, I open my mouth to refuse his offer. I don't want Peeta to turn away any sort of business. Not with the unpredictability and uncertainty this new world still rests on. We never know if the bakery will sell anything tomorrow or if all sort of income will soon dry up.

And we're the lucky ones, financially speaking, who were rich before the war and allowed—in a generous declaration by President Paylor—to keep the entirety of our money after. I don't have to imagine the anxiety others in the country must be in, knowing the curse of poverty all too well. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone.

"I don't want you to turn away people," I say quietly. "Not on my account. You need business to keep this place afloat."

"I have plenty of money, Katniss," he reminds me, a little darker than I expect. "And I'd rather you feel safe than own a popular shop."

His words unexpectedly touch me, unexpectedly cut right down to the depth of my bones, exposing my soft underbelly. I'm about to do something stupid, like touch his hand, when Val makes his presence known again. "Your shop is already the most popular in the district," he points out, not even a little ashamed for having listened to our conversation. "And besides, why don't you just look at the guy's name? Maybe you can look him up, see if he's alright or not."

Peeta gets a glint in his eye. "That's a good idea, Val, thank you." As he moves towards the register to, I can only suppose, look for the man's receipt with his name and signature, he gestures to his school friend. "Katniss can get your order."

I shoot him a glare, only half kidding. I did come to help out, here and there, today but I did not intend to be an actual expected employee. For free, no less.

Instead of saying anything though, I just grab Val his three cinnamon rolls, his two snack cakes, four bagels, white chocolate donut and a loaf with raisins and cranberries.

Val, like Delly Cartwright, was always one of the few people in Twelve who had a few pounds to spare.

Peeta has a type of friend.

"Found it," Peeta now calls, bringing over a slip of paper to where I'm handing Val his three bags of treats. "His name was Rod Catamaran."

Me and Val, for the first time perhaps, exchange a look between us. "That's an odd name for Twelve."

"I've never even heard that name before."

"He may not even be from Twelve, guys," Peeta says.

I roll my eyes. "Because a bombed out district is really a tourist attraction."

"Hey, none of that," Thom calls as he walks through the front door of the bakery, with Kanon Bagley on his heels. "We've rebuilt this place beautifully and negativity is not appreciated here."

"Yeah, Katniss," Peeta chimes in, teasing me. I'm about to kick him in his only real leg, as we're the only two behind the counter and no one else will see, when Kanon speaks up.

"Can I buy a couple of pastries?"

"Of course," Peeta says kindly, walking around me to personally grab the two items Kanon requests.

Kanon is new to Twelve. One of the few new additions this place gained after all that went down. He's a large man in his early twenties, with dark skin and dark hair and eyes to match. But the only times I've ever interacted with him, he's quiet as a mouse, his eyes a little forlorn at all times and he offers more discounts then he should at the candy shop he recently opened next to the bakery.

He's from District Eleven originally and it takes no real critical thinking to realize he had a hard life, even before the war.

I'm far too familiar with the look of scars etched across the eyes. So is Peeta.

That's why, when Kanon looks down at the money in his hand and realizes he doesn't have enough to afford both pastries, Peeta immediately brushes it off. "That's okay, they're on the house," he instantly promises, handing the small bag over to Kanon with a gentle smile.

"No, I don't want to take it without-"

"I made way too much," Peeta insists, lying outright to make it appear Kanon would be doing him a favor. I know he didn't make too much, because we've been flying through everything today and keeping the ovens hot in case more is needed.

Still though, I back up the fib. "He did. We've been wondering all day how we were gonna sell enough stuff so we don't have to feed the leftovers to Haymitch's geese."

Kanon glances between us shyly, before taking the bag from Peeta's hand and slipping the few dollars he does have into his pocket again. "Thank you," he says softly and turns to leave.

Thom pats Kanon on the back as he passes him, before turning to follow. When the other man isn't looking, he turns back to us subtly and mouths, "thank you."

I wanted to tell him not to thank me. I only watched Peeta make this food, I didn't assist by any stretch of the imagination. I didn't own the bakery or do anything with the money or finances. It was not my choice to give things away for free.

But I'm far too focused on the boy in front of me to say any of that. The boy with the bread, the boy who isn't really a boy anymore. The boy who just gave away food for no reward at all, even on the most demanding and strenuous day all year for his business. The boy who just showed Kanon Bagley the same kindness I begged someone-anyone-to show me at eleven-years-old and not one single person did.

Except for him. He did for me all those years ago what he did for Kanon just now, and I suddenly have the most inexplicable, irrepressible urge to kiss Peeta right then and there, in the middle of the bakery.

I don't, however, and it's for once not because I lost my courage. It's because the door swings open again, just as Val exits right behind Kanon and Thom.

It's the same man from earlier. "Hi," Peeta greets, this time not at all sweet. Clearly recognizing the man as the one who made me nervous before. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," the man affirms, his tone brighter than you'd expect given our chilly reception. And our blatant wariness for anyone new. "I forgot to get a pecan butter cake before?"

There is a beat where me and Peeta exchange a look, before I awkwardly move towards the display case and begin to pack up his item. Peeta waits for me to decide to help the man before starting to ring him up.

"That was a nice thing you both just did," the man says as he patiently watches me fold the white waxy paper over his pastry. "For that guy."

"You were watching?" Is the only thing that comes out of my mouth.

"Only for a moment," he explains, his tone still friendly. Either he doesn't know how to read people at all or he's the most even keeled person in Panem.

Because I know I'm being rude, to a man who maybe doesn't even deserve it, I force myself to say one thing conversational. "This is my mom's favorite dessert," I offer, gesturing to his cake.

The man raises his eyebrows in an act that looks almost feigned. "Really?"

I instantly regret trying to be even slightly pleasant. Even his mannerisms seem fake. I'm contemplating if I should say anything else or go hide in the back room with the warm ovens and my portrait, when Peeta presses a button and the register dings.

He's about to say the total when the strange man shakes his head and hands to me directly an unfamiliar bill over the display case. "Have a nice day, you two," he calls, grabbing his cake and swiftly walking out.

It's not until he's gone, not until I have a moment to process the second weird encounter with the odd person, that I even glance down at the crisp bill he handed me.

It's a bill with a larger number on the back than I've ever personally seen before. I knew these kinds of dollars existed—I'm sure I could have gotten plenty after my first games—but I'd never seen one in the flesh.

Peeta sees my reaction. "What is it?" His voice sounds alarmed and he's stepping closer to me, but all I can do is gasp out his name.

"Peeta, look." I hold up the bill and point to the number on the back.

His eyes widen too, taking in the amount with a dizzy smile. Of both relief that nothing's wrong and excitement at the digit.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" I ask suddenly, looking over my shoulder towards the window, wondering if we should track the man down and give him his money back, before he evaporates into thin air.

"No?" Peeta shakes his head, the wheels in his mind turning quicker than mine. His face turns to that of elation, as the large bill takes some pressure off the bakery's sales. "No, he said he saw us give Kanon a break. He was giving us something in return."

I'm about to say something else, I don't even know what, but it all flies out of my head when Peeta suddenly wraps his arms around my waist and swiftly pulls me into his embrace.

My entire body goes into lockdown and hypervigilance at the same time. I can't move an inch but it feels like every nerve in my body is abruptly tingling and on fire.

My sweater lifts up slightly and his bare arms graze my lower back, eliciting a shiver to run involuntarily down my spine as his face buries into my hair.

I wrap my arms around his neck after a beat when I can make myself move again, and I feel him smile against my skin. I'm so glad at that moment he's holding me up, because if he wasn't supporting my weight I'd probably crash to the floor, unable to even feel my legs beneath me.

And, as a rush of heat shoots out from the place where Peeta's lips brush my collarbone, I suddenly feel only gratitude, not irritation, at the strange Rod Catamaran.

//

Four days later.

The world surrounding me is green. Green and brown and fire-bitten and scorched. Every which way I spin, there's embers soaring from that direction too, waiting to lick me with their burning flames, ready to decimate me once and for all.

But through the smoke and haze, I still can see between the trees two blonde braids. I still can see a small figure standing on the other side of the fire. I still can see her shirt that's come untucked in the back, creating a duck tail that I desperately want to fix.

Just as I notice her, she whirls around to face me, her blue eyes big and bright and terrified. "Katniss!" She screams, the same way she did the last day she was alive. "Katniss, help! They're coming!"

I don't know who's coming or what's happening or where we even are, but all I feel is relief somehow. Relief that she's here, that I'm in her presence again, that she's almost within my reach. Instinctively I call out, "Prim!" Just so I can finally get a response to the name I've been shouting into oblivion for almost a year now.

"Katniss, help me!" She cries again and then looks over her shoulder. She's not talking about the fire between us, as it doesn't seem too intent on heading towards her.

I don't know what's coming or who she's afraid of, but my instincts now go into overdrive. My body suddenly snaps into alert and I whip my head around, to see if I can find an opening in the fire closing in on me, if I can find a way to get to the sister I lost what feels like only yesterday, if I can find a way to save her this time.

There's no gap in the fire though. It's crowded around me, front, back and side to side. The more seconds that pass by, the closer the fire folds into my proximity, and I have to brace myself before making a split-second decision.

But it's not really a decision at all. Prim needs me and I cannot fail her. I have to save her this time.

I take a bold step directly into the fire, with every intention of running through it somehow. Of running past the wild embers, scorching myself no doubt, but still making it over to my distressed, frightened little sister. But it doesn't work like I expect.

But really, does anything?

These flames are nothing like the fires I've encountered before. And I've been around more fire in my life than anyone ever should.

No, these flames don't burn me. They don't hurt me or put me through agony or singe me to pieces. They don't melt off my makeshift coat of skin and they don't further decimate it either.

Instead the fire feels like almost nothing. Like something almost itchy, something almost irritating, something almost painful. Something that make me want to squirm and scream and escape all at the same time.

Which is real ironic considering what else it seems these flames do.

They seem to hold me into place. The second I'm in their hold, instead of the horrific pain I thought I'd be in, I'm trapped in a series of almost nothing.

I'm not in excruciating pain physically, but seeing my sister standing ten feet from me, and not being able to move any closer, not being able to protect her from whatever she's terrified of, is worse than any amount of injury this fire could have inflicted.

"Katniss!" Prim screams now, her voice only growing in its frantic nature. "Help! Why won't you come help me?"

I try to scream, try to tell her I want to but I can't move. But it turns out that these flames also paralyze vocal muscles.

"Peeta's dying!" Prim yelps out, looking behind her again, her hands beginning to shake in a way she almost never let them in life. She always tried to keep it together, to remain calm and rational in a crisis.

Her words elicit something entirely new inside of me though. "Peeta?" I yell in confusion, my voice suddenly no longer paralyzed.

"They're killing him! Katniss, please, why won't you come here? We need you!" Prim is close to hysterical now and frankly, so am I.

"I'm trying! I just," I move my hands down my body, trying to push the flames away as they rises up to my chest, trying to just break free from these fiery chains once and for all. "The fire, Prim! I can't get out of the fire."

Prim's voice drops then, loses all source of fear, every ounce of panic. Loses any semblance of emotion. "Katniss, there is no fire," she states blankly, her eyes looking directly at the embers covering my stomach and legs. "There's nothing there."

I just look at her for a moment, completely speechless. Her words are inconceivable, her eyes are haunted now, her facial expression is unrecognizable. Even her voice doesn't sound like hers anymore.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, in the distance a gunshot goes off.

Prim delicately glances over her shoulder now, her blue eyes cold as ice. "He's dead," she informs clinically, before sighing deeply, her tone almost disappointed. "And so am I."

I don't know what happens next or how it occurs, but I fly upwards in my bed with such a start, I give myself whiplash.

I hear a loud screeching noise hanging in the air, a hoarse trepidation that almost makes me feel better. I don't know why but someone else screaming in the middle of the night gives me hope, as sick as that may be.

Only it's not someone else, I realize, as my throat burns raw. I realize with startling clarity that I'm the only making all the noise. I'm the one shaking so tremendously. I'm the one who is sobbing.

"Shhh," a voice whispers against the darkness, and I flail involuntarily at the shock. "Sorry, sorry," Peeta instantly apologizes, his hands gripping my arms with a little too much intensity, trying to still my shaking. "It's okay, Katniss, you were just having a nightmare."

His words do precious little to calm me down though. "She was there," I cry, the image, the feeling, of Prim standing only ten feet from me and not being able to reach her too painful for me to unsee.

"Who was there?" He asks tenderly, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Katniss, breathe."

I don't even bother listening to his advise. I haven't exhaled since I was eleven. "Prim was there. She was begging me to save her and then I couldn't, I was trapped but-but," I cut myself off, unable to form coherent words and thoughts any longer.

Peeta gets the gist though. "Come here," he whispers and pulls me into his arms, like he used to on the train, when my nightmares woke us both three times a night. "I'm so sorry, Katniss," he says softly now, and rubs my back in a way that elicits goosebumps. His way of trying to soothe my shaking. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You died too," I blurt out then. I don't even know why I feel inclined to tell him.

"What?"

"I was stuck and I couldn't speak and then Prim said you were going to die and I got scared enough that I could talk again and I thought-I thought," I stumble breathlessly, my tears pouring out against his shoulder now.

I feel his lips touch my cheek and I'm too upset to revel in the feeling of blood rushing there. "It was just a nightmare," he promises.

But my sentiment is unfinished. "I thought I could break free, that I could-"

"Katniss," he halts, still holding me in his embrace, rocking me slightly. "It wasn't real. I promise you, it wasn't real."

Those words, the words so often said to him by me, ring a bell that I didn't want to ring. It snaps me back into reality abruptly and without warning, I feel like my chest is going to collapse.

Because this means Prim wasn't really there, that she still is as dead as she was yesterday, that I still watched her explode into pieces all over the bombsite in the Capitol.

I still failed to protect her.

Peeta pulls back slightly then and rests his forehead against mine. "It's okay, Katniss," he says again, trying to calm my trembles by rubbing my arms up and down.

"How are you in my house?" I realize, with an intense sudden clarity. "How are you here? Are you real or am I still-"

He quickly puts me out of my misery. "You gave me a key, remember? A long time ago? We gave each other keys to our houses."

Oh. Right. I forgot all about that when he had his nightmare, didn't I?

Good thing he's an idiot who keeps his door unlocked at night.

He's explaining further before I can think to ask. "I heard you having a nightmare from my house. That's why I rushed over here."

I'm caught between embarrassment and gratitude. "Sorry, I really don't know what brought it on."

"Hey," he quietly reprimands, lifting my chin now to meet eye contact. "Don't apologize. No one understands nightmares like me."

I nod, accepting his words, though still a little uncomfortable with screaming for all the district to hear at two in the morning.

Then again, our entire neighborhood is Haymitch and the two of us, and our mentor was drinking like a fish last night so really, the only person who could have heard me is already sitting directly in my eye line.

To punctuate his words, when I don't respond verbally, he lifts my hand up and brings it to his lips tenderly.

And I don't know what comes over me or why. I don't know if it's because we've been growing closer again lately or if I just haven't felt his arms around me since days ago in the bakery and I miss the feel of it desperately, but I find myself abruptly throwing my body around his before I can talk myself out of it.

He catches me easily, like he anticipated my reaction and sways me for a long moment, until my breathing begins to even itself out.

"Will you stay?" I rasp into his neck, as I feel his hand tangles in my matted locks.

"Always."

[ashrel]

Qiuyue - Voicelines

Hello: Hello, mortal. I am Qiuyue. Zhongli sent you to fetch me? Tell the old man that if he wants me there, he can do it himself. I am no adeptus, to come and go at his whim like so. Next time he does this, he’s going to find a scorpion in his bed. You want to know my full title? Fine. I am Qiuyue, the Hu Li Shen. You need not know the rest. Is this satisfactory? Good. Run along now, I have much more important business to attend to.

Favorite Food: You want to know my favorite food? Well… I am partial to candied walnuts. Why do you wish to know? You’ve never heard of them? Well, that is to be expected. They are a Liyue-only delicacy, as far as I’m concerned. I’m quite busy now, some fools seem to be causing trouble at one of my shrines. If you need anything else, go ask one of my retainers. Now, leave.

Least Favorite Food: Least favorite food? Why would you need to know that? Well, if you insist. I have lived centuries here in Teyvat, and sampled many types of food. I’d have to say my least favorite are those fruits called grapes. I believe they originated in Natlan, which I’d wager is why you haven’t heard of them, only having been to Mondstadt and Liyue. Anyways, if you come across them, please don’t feed them to any of my subjects. They’re highly poisonous. Oh, wipe that look off your face! They’re only poisonous to the fox species, not you mortals! Hobbies: Oh, you want to know my hobbies? I do enjoy a good prank from time to time. If you see him, ask the old man about what I’ve done. He turns pale and won’t speak for a couple hours, which is a refreshing thing. I enjoy it very much. He needs a reminder now and then that Liyue is not all business. Playing with him like this forces it into his thick skull that there are other things to be had in Liyue.

When it rains: Gah, this stupid rain! It leaves my coat thick with water until I can dry myself off! That stupid old man is taking revenge for that time I left that bucket of water on the doorway! When it snows: Oh, seeing these piles of snow reminds me of a fantastic time I had with the old man. He had invited intruders into my domain, promising tall tales of showing them the inside of the Autumn Palace without my permission. I had let some snow in, for the foxes love it. And as the perfect revenge, I decided to tackle the old man into a tall snow pile, leaving him soaked in snow in front of those guests! They ended up leaving the very same day, for the indignity of mine was a shame to behold.

When the sun is out: Oh, what a glorious day! I would do nothing but bask in these golden rays of the sun, if only my duties would allow for it.

When the wind is blowing: Ack! I got a piece of hair in my mouth, it’s fine. When I see that old man again, I’ll see how he likes having his hair cut off! Good morning: This is quite a fine morning, is it not? I seem more formal? I apologize, the mornings seep through the cracks and take hold sometimes. Good afternoon: You seem tired, would you like me to perk you up with another story of the old man? Why there’s this one I know of, long before the archon war, of him and Guizhong. Just… don’t tell him I told you this, alright? Guizhong is still a festering wound. Good evening: At this time of night, you can see all the stars in the sky. It must remind you of home, right? It does for me...

Good night: I must be getting back to the Autumn Palace now, who knows what sort of trouble the foxes have gotten into without my gaze upon them. Take care.

About Qiuyue - Godhood: You want to know what it is like to be a god? Why, you yourself aren’t that far off, are you not? We gods are not untouchable beings, we can still die, just like you. As an outlander, you must have seen your fair share of beings calling themselves gods, who were not quite there. But as for me it is… lonely, but rewarding. I do find myself seeking company from time to time, only to watch mere years pass, and them to wither and die. However, I myself do not think I would give up my godhood, if only for the fact that I am quite used to it. It has many disadvantages, and many benefits. It is up to you to decide if it is worth it. Is that not how most things are, though? About Qiuyue - Autumn Palace: You question me about my domain? I’m afraid you will never see its insides. No mortal is allowed inside, and no immortal without my permission. At least, no mortal still alive has seen the inside. Ominous? Why, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean!

About Qiuyue - Human Form: Oh, you’ve only ever seen me in this form, correct? Strange. I know you know of my main form, the nine-tailed fox, for it is the one depicted in temples. This human one, however, is more for the benefit of the mortals around us. It comforts them to see me as one of them, no matter how strange that sentiment is. I do find myself liking this particular human form the most, however. I suppose it seems odd to you.

About Qiuyue - Title: You wish to keep pestering me about my full title? You know, most mortals who continued down this route ended up as statues in my domain, reduced to decoration. ...I do admire this tenacity, however. I suppose, just this once, I’ll entertain you. I am most commonly known as Qiuyue, and the Hu Li Shen, as you know. However, my main domain is Deception, just as Zhongli’s is contracts. I am the Fox God, One-Who-Betrays-and-Lies, and the God-Who-Wanders. Although that last title isn’t as true now, as it. Zhongli offered me a residence, a shared portion of Liyue, and I couldn’t find it within myself to refuse.

About Ningguang: Ningguang.. The Tianquan is very interesting. I find myself impressed with her, I’ll admit. To pull herself up to a position so high is quite an achievement. Even Zhongli was an old god before his position of power in Liyue. She has an odd fascination with me, going so far as to credit part of her abilities to my power. I have given her omens, as the foxes seem quite taken with her, but it was her skill that allowed her to build her career.

About Zhongli: Zhongli… simply saying the name feels wrong. I much prefer to call him by the title of ‘Old Man’ if I must refer to him in conversation. I do see why I must address him in this fashion, as to the rest of Liyue Morax is dead. However, I do feel his decision lacked foresight. What will he do, when he never grows old alongside his peers? If he travels, eventually, he will have visited every village, and then where will he go? He will become a myth, an immortal wandering figure shrouded in legend. I doubt he wishes for that, if he wants to lead a mortal life. Maybe these are the consequences of such tumultuous times in Liyue... About Venti: Ah, the bard. He is quite a fun person, no? I do enjoy the moments I spend with him, even if our meetings are far and few. Sometimes he will join me for a good laugh over the topic of the old man. Zhongli often protests that although he looks older, Venti and I are just as old, if not older. We pretend not to hear, even if he knows we have. It makes for quite the entertainment. I do think that the bard could stand to be a little more responsible - stop rolling your eyes at me, I do realize I’m being a little bit of a hypocrite. I’ll admit, living for so long in Zhongli’s domain has done something to improve how I behave, particularly seeing as I do have responsibilities to my worshippers. Venti, however, takes and takes, never truly giving back until you arrived. I wonder when it’ll catch up to him. About Levin: Levin is… I wouldn’t dare call him close to me, that’s only asking for trouble as it is. I do find him quite amusing, however. He doesn’t seem to recognize me as who I am, even though the name Qiuyue is one steeped in history, synonymous with the title of Hu Li Shen. It makes for quite the fun conversations when we stop to talk, for the Liyueans do recognize me. Hopefully, he’ll continue to be a source of entertainment. The moment he oversteps his boundaries, however… it would be quite the nuisance to rid themselves of him, but if it must be done, it must be done.

(For context: Levin is my friend's genshin OC.)

About Ganyu: That is Ningguang’s secretary, correct? I see… she is of adeptus descent, and yet she seems to not fully resonate with it. It is a wonder she can keep up with Ningguang’s workload, however, and I do commend her for it. I don’t think I have quite enough experiences with her to form a judgement, but I do trust in Ningguang’s judgement. Once she becomes curious in adepti affairs, I should keep a closer eye on her. Remind me to do so. About Keqing: I do respect Keqing’s opinions on her Archon. They’re a breath of fresh air in Liyue, where the people seem to be mindless sheep. Although, from what I’ve heard about the aftermath of the battle with Osial, they seem to be forming their own opinions as well. Their archon’s death must have really released the fog around their eyes. She seems like one to keep a close eye on, for she is not hesitant in her words about the adepti and gods, although they earn her scorn. About Yanfei: She is a most renowned lawyer in Liyue. Her disposition doesn’t seem quite serious enough for a lawyer, yet she shoulders through. It’s almost a conundrum, the way I see it. She reminds me quite a lot of my own foxes. Sly, clever, but behind a cover of mischief and playfulness. Have you seen her in action with her vision? No wonder Murata granted her it - her passion burns as bright as the flames she wields.

About Baal: The Raiden Shogun… she has certainly changed. I do not concern myself with the affairs of most gods, and yet, she seems to be causing quite the stir within the immortal court. It would be concerning, but I have not yet received any personal disturbance against my domain, so I shall not interfere. Perhaps this is what Zhongli meant when he said that the archons are changing, and Teyvat will soon enter a new period.

About Hu Tao: Hu Tao is quite the fun person! I do visit Zhongli at his work often, so it is natural I’d become acquainted with his newfound ‘boss’. She seems to take inspiration from a number of things, choosing to continue on with her business although it has taken quite the hit to it’s reputation with her eccentric style of advertising. She helps the old man loosen up and enjoy life, and for that I do appreciate her work.

About Xiao: He is quite the unusual adepti. Bound under a contract that limits his suffering, but also his freedom. I did not get to witness his beginnings, and have yet to see what made Mora- Zhongli take him under his wing, but I suppose I must, for once, exercise my patience. Forgive me for the slip in name, it has been difficult adjusting to Zhongli’s new identity. Ah, what’s that look for? I do promise that I am not harboring any other motives for a simple slip in name-

About Vision: A vision? I do not harbor one, why would you ask? I am a god, I have my own special set of skills. After all, visions are for mortals who have been given a chance to ascend to Celestia, and by proxy, godhood. I have no need for one.

More about Qiuyue I: I do one day, wish to explore beyond my self-imposed confines of Liyue. It is almost embarrassing to admit this, but I fear for what awaits me on the horizon of adventure. Silly, isn’t it?

More about Qiuyue II: For one who knows nothing about Teyvat, I’m surprised you haven’t hear it before. An unspoken taboo against killing foxes. You now know why, don’t you? As a fox god, I have a sacred duty to protect my own domain. You’re quite lucky to not have killed any. Some travelers have not been quite as blessed in luck, and have ended up very fine statues.

Qiuyue’s troubles: Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Well, actually… hey, I promise I won’t make you go on any quests. But it is… annoying, that the old man decided to retire with no prior warning on my part. Now all of Liyue is looking at me as their next Archon, and I have no wish for that. I’m content with leaving them in the hands of someone else, and staying as a minor god in Liyue’s territory. Why won’t they understand that?

Qiuyue’s birthday letter: Today I ventured outside of Liyue, back to Mondstadt. It was refreshing to see old friends again, and I should have done it sooner. I took the liberty of introducing one of my oldest friends to my specialty food, but he disagreed with its taste. The audacity! We ended up playing in the woods together, and I might have done a little damage. No worries, he can fix it! Hopefully… Anyways, have the rest of the food! I thought you might like it.

Received: Candied Walnuts x1, Dandelion Seeds x10. Traveler’s Birthday: Happy Birthday Traveler. I suppose it must mean little to you, as an immortal being like me. The years weigh heavy on a soul who has spent many millennia traveling, only to be tied down with loss. Maybe by your next birthday, I’ll have met your sister. I’m sure she will be just as much of an enigma as you are. To a continued year of existence.

[fandom-mess-reborn]

Right when you need it

TW: Talk of substance abuse, addiction, self harm, death, abuse and neglect

The cowboy hissed softly as he walked around the firey hellscape. What did he have to do to find a decent place to sit down and eat?! He kicked a soda around, frowning as his stomach growled again. He huffed and glanced around.

His eyes stopped on a store he hadn't seen before; better yet, he never remembered it even being there before now. His stomach grumbled as he sighed. He checked his gun and went over.

The neon sign flickered, reading as Fill ‘r’ Us, the r having trouble staying lit up. He glanced in the window, seeing a imp behind the counter, playing on her phone with a slushie next to her.

He stepped in, hesitantly looking around at the products on the linoleum shelves. It was mostly junk, but some items looked decent. One odd thing he noticed was that there were no prices for anything. He had a bad feeling the imp would over charge, but he had a way to 'persuade' her if she tried.

He approached the counter, clearing his throat. She looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm finished lookin'." He placed the items down and pulled out his wallet, looking back to see his items already bagged, and the imp on her phone again. "Anything else?" She asked.

"How... did you do that without makin' any noise?" He asked, confused and slightly in awe. She paused. "Huh?"

"Normally plastic bags make noise?" He said.

"Oh... uh, I don't really know how to answer that. I just do. Anyone stuck running this place can do it." She mumbled, looking down.

He nodded, taking out some cash. "No need. I don't run this place like that. Just take what ya need." She said.

"That... ain't good business." He hissed. "Heh, you sound like my old man." She chuckled, gesturing to the cheap vase on a high shelf behind her, a photo of an angry imp next to it. "He always over charged this crap. Even got a few to buy a candy bar for 20 bucks." She sneered.

"Always hated how he did things. People don't willing shop at a gas station unless they ain't got a lot of money. They can't be spending it on a shit ass candy bar worth a dollar." She growled. "So, when I started running things, I let people take what they needed. Place don't need money to keep itself running anyhow." She explained.

The snake didn't understand, yet it somehow made sense. "So, this... thing, is alive?"

"Let me guess. You ain't ever seen this store where you entered, huh?" Stricker blinked. "Uh... no, actually." He admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Place ain't ever in one place at one time. It's everywhere and nowhere; but always there when someone needs it." She explained.

"In a sense. Takes care of itself as long as it has a rider."

"Rider?"

"Well, owner techically, but I don't do anything other than give it what it needs to live. I'm just along for the ride."

"I thought you said it took care of itself."

"It does. But it needs an owner. Someone to feed off of. Otherwise, it eats anyone who walks past it's doors." She explained. "The store feeds off the owner's life. But it can't kill us. Not while we're in it, anyway. Take two steps outside though and we fade to dust."

Stricker frowned. "You're... stuck here?" She nodded. "Yep. Can't leave, but I've still seen more of Hell than you will." She chuckled.

He sneered. "Doubt it." She giggled. "Yeah, whatever." She turned to the slushie machine and refilled her cup. "Care for a hit?" She asked.

"Hit? What is it secretly drugs?" He joked. "Nope. Plain old slush. But... I am kinda addicted to it." She took a long sip, hissing a bit as a hard brain freeze hit her.

Stricker shurgged and nodded, getting a red one. He kept noticing the girl getting a brain freeze. "Slow down, jeez." He muttered.

"Not happening." She sighed as the pain eased. "You like pain or something?" He chuckled.

"You could say... prefer a brain freeze over thinking about my old man." She mumbled, frowning.

"Pain in the ass?"

"Eh... he wasn't always. When Ma was around, we were kinda normal. Me and my dad were... always a little tense. He taught be to cook ramen, pay rent, all that shit. Also made me realize this place don't owe you shit." She growled, clutching her fist.

Stricker frowned, listening, slightly curious what happened between them, dispite it being none of his business.

"I obeyed everything he asked and it still wasn't ever good enough. He'd either ignore me, or tell me how shit I was; be it verbally or physically." She mumbled, giving herself another brain freeze.

"I woulda shot him." Stricker said, drinking the red slush. The girl laughed. "Eh, didn't have a gun on hand. Knife worked well enough."

"There ya go." He cheered, laughing. The imp smiled and laughed, like she hadn't done so in a long time. They both sighed.

He held out his hand. "Names Stricker." She glanced at him, then his hand before taking it.

"Rumor."

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Momo Ōkami

Notes: I….just, here *hands you this fic *. I may work as a housekeeper, but I’m in the mood for something dirty, I’ll tell you that. Jokes aside, I really miss writing self indulgent stuff :’) I got the title from Momotaro and Okami bc I’m not original and I needed a title :’)

Genre: Some angst, but enough fluff to drown cotton candy in bc boy am I a sap

Au: Yokai Au

Warnings: Reader’s a simp (and I am too), incorrect knowledge of everything, kinda slowburn, arranged marriage, “kidnapping”, smut, and kinks.  

……………

    After the old Oni of the mountain had passed away or moved out, another one simply took his place. He was different, you could tell. Soft yellow hair, bright amber eyes, and healthy, peach colored skin had given away that he wasn’t full Oni. Yes he was tall, muscular, and had a roundness to his stomach and face, but he wasn’t as fearsome nor tall as the former one who terrorized your forest for years.  

Belonging to one of the most powerful clans in the forest, you and your family were still wary of the new half-ogre yokai. Although seemingly peaceful, one could never be too careful. Especially whenever you made your nightly trips around the mountain roads at night for fresh rabbit or deer, you knew that he was staring at you. It didn’t bother you like you thought it did, for this type of staring felt different. As if he was taking your character in from curiosity, rather than with malicious intent.

 You found yourself returning his curiosities, staring up at the mountain, venturing a little too close to his home as you seen him tend to normal, almost domestic things, such as feeding chickens or adding wood to the fire. He seemed to live a peaceful life, his life did not revolve around the other Oni, such as terrorizing and eating humans, or causing mischief and grief upon others. At times he’d catch you staring, and when the two of your eyes have met, it felt such an odd intimacy between the both of you, you felt emotions that were very akin to a human’s, swell within you, and couldn’t find yourself to hate them. After a few months of playing this odd little game, it escalated.      

 You and your family were called Okuri-Okami, or “sending off wolf”. It didn’t take a smart person to figure it out, with your family making daily trips around the mountains, playing this life or death game with innocent travelers, and had a reputation of being although not the noblest, but an old and respected clan within the forest. You yourself weren’t really into eating the villagers who still thought that your kin were noble, going as far as building a shrine for your family and gift them food and nice things for not eating them. Humans were odd, and the fact that you could transform into your human form, made it more difficult to stomach the thought of eating them, to your parent’s disapproval.  

When the Oni had caught wind that you weren’t into eating humans, he’d started acting different. At first you didn’t understand why, but he’d started to indulge you by waiting for your own nightly routine to start, and start walking several steps ahead of you, letting you to purposely “escort him to safety”. He would never trip, and even if he did, you weren’t the type to pounce and try to gobble anybody up, unlike most of your kin. You were sure that your kind didn’t eat Oni, and so it confused the ever loving hells out of you when he started this little game out of the blue.

When you “escorted” him to the mountain pass which led to his home, he’d say “Thanks for seein’ me off, Darlin’” in such a smooth and husky voice, you couldn’t but help feel the warm, familiar emotions flutter within you. He would skip a night, only for gifts such as sekihan, deer meat, or other small little things for you to appear at the edge of his territory. Not knowing what to really do, you accepted the gifts with a mix of confusion and gratitude, and the next night, he would be there with a giant smile.

“My name’s Taishiro.” He broke the awkwardness between the two of you, and you caved in and gave him your name, liking the way it rolled off of his tongue.

 Months had passed. The two of you started talking more often as he walked next to you rather closely, stepping in pace right next to yours as he did so. You were a little shy, but his warm aurora and bright smiles and twinkling eyes crumbled your resolve rather quickly. You began to use your clothed human form, letting him take in your feminine features, feeling a pleasing warmth whenever you noticed that he stared at you a little longer than usual, or would have pink dust settle on his cheeks.

You had to admit, he was very handsome, as well. You tried your best to sneak glances, but would turn beet red and look away whenever you felt that he had caught you red-handed. He would chuckle and it fed the fire growing within you.

��I better not trip, or you’ll eat me up, Sugar.” He gave a wink, and you swore that time had froze when he said that, then you would flush furiously and let out a growl mixed in with an embarrassed whine, causing him to bellow with laughter. To say that you had grown closer to him, was an understatement of the century.

He learned slowly but surely that you were the only child of your parents, how you never wanted to feed on human flesh, and that you didn’t know what to do with your life. He listened thoroughly and replied with his own words of encouragement and that he was glad that you didn’t feed upon humans, for that would make it awkward. When asked why, he finally opened up to you. His mother was human and his father was an Oni. Growing up for him was harsh because everybody knew what his father was, and there was very little his mother could do to protect him. So he left, and kept traveling until he found a more remote forest with very little villagers around. Although he didn’t hate humans, his mother was one, and he was half. It gave you a sense of sympathy for him, and it strengthened your resolve to never become like your parents, and he broke the boundaries of your physical contact by gently patting your shoulder.

That was another thing, touches. He would always find an excuse to touch you, whether it be a simple head pat, ruffling hair, gently squeezing your hand, or other soft, platonic touches that left you all too warm and all too disappointed when he’d break away, grinning brightly and seemingly too unaware of the affect that he has a hold onto you. It made you feel a little more braver as the nights and days would pass, ever so softly returning the hugs he gave you, and shyly yet surely pat his shoulder or gently squeeze his arms or hands. A rush of prideful victory swelled within you as you noticed that his eyes would soften or blood would rush to his cheeks. You liked this man, and didn’t know how to really handle your growing feelings for him.

You didn’t dare tell your parents. Already they were disappointed in you that you refused to eat humans, and now you were corresponding with a half-breed Oni? Sure you could live somewhere else, and break yourself away from your small pack, but if you did that, then they would run you out of the forest for good, that, or kill you. A sadness overcame you that you realized that you wouldn’t be able to see Taishiro, anymore if you were gone. You’ve grown very fond of him, and it surprised you on how easily he tore down your defenses, and instead of feeling vulnerable, you felt very warm and comfortable. It was scary, because although you knew you were on thin ice with your parents, you didn’t mind taking risks to just be near the tender giant.  

  Soon, it all came to a freezing halt as your parents sat you down one day, and began to speak to you with the familiar coldness lacing their tones of voices.  

“You’re old enough now to start a family and live away from us. The Tanuki living in the eastern shrine has offered a handsome dowry of fine meats and Sake for your hand in marriage. Your father and I will worry about the guests and your attire, so don’t worry.” Was the harsh slap of reality. You knew that your parents will not let you have a say in it. In your pack’s mind, it was true. You weren’t a pup, anymore, you were unclaimed, and you didn’t fit in with your clan’s expectations or traditions. You were now chained to their final decision of just marrying you off, thus you were prevented from doing your nightly routines, leaving your mother to educate you in being a good wife, and your father to plan the wedding and invite guests.

 You missed him. Although two days had passed, you were kept inside your family’s little shrine as your mother doted on your outfit and hair. Your father had been gathering the guests and materials and plans for the wedding as you tried to worry on how to act as a wife and take care of your husband, but your thoughts kept venturing back to Tai, hoping that he wasn’t disappointed or too upset. A voice within you wished that he was your betrothed, instead, and you weren’t really surprised with that thought.

….……………..

The little wolf intrigued him. Instead of being frightened by him, she just waltzed up on that mountain as if she owned the place, not caring who or what he is, and he knew from that day on, he was hooked. He couldn’t help but play a little game with her, courting her with gifts and make it known that he was interested. The canine yokai took a spell to warm up to him, and he wouldn’t doubt that she still didn’t know that he was courting her, but to be honest, it was a treat seeing how she blossomed, coming out from her shyness. He was more pleased and surprised that she began her own little venturing, returning his small touches and face would resemble a fire as he caught her admiring him or trying to reach out and initiate a small touch. Nobody had ever done that for him, and he doubted that she had the same attention. He tugged away from the dark, possessive thoughts that lurked.  

It didn’t take long for him to develop romantic feelings for the woman. He had to keep beating away his father’s bloodline of just wanting to take. He wasn’t like his father, and she deserved to be courted, not be treated like his mother. He fought off a dark shudder of disgust as his mind went back to his wolf. Granted, she was also very pretty, and had stopped using her wolf form. Doe eyes and a cute, warm smile have had been greeting him for some time, now, and when it stopped, he panicked. Was she hurt? She wouldn’t just up and disappear, right? It wasn’t a dream, he knew that she was very real. Questions and thoughts had haunted him for about two days as he tried his best to follow her scent. Usually he wanted to mind his own business and not bother with traveling down into the heart of the forest, but he felt desperate.

Where was his little wolf? He tried asking the animals as well as other yokai, but they all ran in fear, leaving him no answers. He knew that she came from a very prominent clan, what if they found out about him? What if they had enough of her stubborn nature and just decide to finish her off? He felt a mix of panic and anger as he all but tried to follow her fading scent, internally promising a lifetime’s worth of hell on anybody who dared to lay a finger on her.        

   Her scent, although a little faded, was stronger at the shrine. Was she there? He knew that she wasn’t scared of him, nor would she hide from him. The sound of bells snapped him out of his thoughts as he ventured more closely to the shrine, peeping from behind it.

………………

   Your mother told you that you looked beautiful, but really, you didn’t care. Your parents were way too eager to hand you away, they didn’t bother to host a meeting with your future husband, no. Your father gathered a small party of his and your mother’s friends, a Shinto priest (that they’ll probably eat later), and the awaited guest, your betrothed. It was a small, Shinto wedding mixed in with other elements that your parents thought that the Tanuki, your betrothed, might like. You wore a traditional Shiro-Muku, symbolizing your purity, and had your hair tied into a bun with a beautiful hair piece. It wasn’t much, but your thoughts kept racing back to the possibility that you might just make a run for it.

Granted, you did try for the last two days, all but kicking and screaming, but your parents were more powerful, and although you were not weak, by any means, your shrine was surrounded by yokai who were at your parent’s bidding, and you yourself could not fight off every single one. If you could manage to get to the mountains, you knew that Tai would scare and keep every bad thing away from you. You had since accepted your feelings for him, and knew that he would protect you if not as a lover, then definitely as a friend.

Your heart was aching, and you knew that you were going to make a break for it at the wedding ceremony. Possibly tarnishing your parent’s reputation, and angering the Tanuki, but you found yourself just not caring. Your father didn’t even bother to knock on the paper walls, you could hear his footsteps coming your way.

“It’s time.” He said, and you got up to follow him outside. The hood of your wedding attire shielded you from the sun that you haven’t seen directly in a couple of days. You had to admit, the smell of fresh air was very enticing compared to the shrine’s settling dust and your parent’s scents.

Anxiety rose within you as you realized that this wasn’t a lucid dream, this was happening. You wished that your parents have had given you more time to process the knowledge that you were to be wedded away, to live in another forest with a husband and his yokai that you didn’t know, and you were going to be separated from everyone. A dark thought passed through you. If you were mistreated or hurt, your parents would never know, and if they did, they’d do the bare minimum for you.

Honestly? It pissed you off. You knew the only person who could ever care for you this much would probably tear down the whole forest, and he was probably searching for you this moment, if your doubts and fears kept telling you that he probably thought that you weren’t interested, anymore. It hurt, all the doubts and wondering if you’ll ever see him again clouding your emotions. You tried to focus on the small wedding. It was very thoughtful and beautiful. Your father’s friend, a Kitsune, lit small blue flames around, they floated around the small number of guests and your betrothed, who you now took notice of. He was giving a cheeky grin as your eyes met, and although you didn’t feel the same, you thought it would be polite to offer a weak smile in return.

As your father led you to the priest and the Tanuki, thoughts of running away kept running through your head. Just as you began to slip your hand out of your father’s strong grasp, a familiar scent hit you with almost full force. Your father stopped, as well, taking notice of the shift of atmosphere. Time didn’t seem to slow down as heavy footsteps cracked upon the branches, getting closer to the area as everybody froze in panic. You couldn’t help but feel elated, but also worried. His usual sandalwood and sweet vanilla scent, was now spiked with a darker edge to it, but you knew that it wasn’t aimed at you.

…………………

    His blood froze in shock as he realized what was behind the shrine. A wedding. Your wedding. No doubt that it was put together quickly. Before he had time to really take the information in, the doors of the shrine opened, and out you came, being led by your father. Although he admitted quietly to himself that the outfit fit you well, you looked so sad and had little bags underneath your eyes and his chest tightened at the realization. You didn’t want this. As if lost in your own thoughts, he noticed that you subconsciously begin to look around, for him no doubt. A dark, possessive anger hit him as he realized that your father was gripping you a little too tightly, and the Tanuki was eyeing you in a way that made his own blood boil. Without thinking, he acted.

All the wedding guests seemed to be frozen in fear as he stormed up to the area, the need to just take you away gripped him ever so strongly when the two of your eyes met. Your cold expression turned to that one laced with relief and guilt as if silently pleading him to just take you somewhere safe. Taking the silent hint, he smacked your father’s hands away. Coming out of his shock, he started yelling.

“Who in the hells do you think you are?” You father’s face was a beet red, as his eyes all but bugged out in anger. Huffing, the Oni growled out as he picked you up neatly into his arms as if you didn’t weigh but a feather, holding your shocked self closely to his chest.

“I’m her mate. Never bother her or us ever again.” He snapped, and before anybody could have time to process the fact that you were about to be willingly abducted, he bolted as he carried you safely back to his cave, or your new home. He knew that the yokai wouldn’t dare touch an Oni like him, even if he is a half-breed, he still carried the demonic blood of his ancestors. He liked to fight, he was use to it, but he wouldn’t hurt your family if he could help it. He kept sneaking glances at you, who in turn was blushing and glancing up at him owlishly. His heart-beat picked up at the small smile on your face and you looked so relieved, and he knew that he did the right thing.  

Your home wasn’t too far away from his cave, but there were twists and turns of trees and the old beaten path was starting to be covered up by growing shrubs. It was cool and dark, and he felt you shiver a little in his arms, and he hummed as he placed you gently onto the furs, covering you up a bit. A calm quiet enveloped the two of you as he held onto you, letting you soak up his warmth as he gently drew circles on your hands.

“I’ll get some firewood and heat us up, alright?” He broke the silence, and you nodded. Taking a last look at you, he left the cave as the disbelief in his own actions clouded his thoughts.

…………..

You were in the twilight zone. First, a surprise marriage, and then you let yourself willingly get abducted by Tai, who was very blunt about his feelings towards you, thus reciprocating your own feelings for him, and now your new home was here. Although relieved and feeling very, very safe, you were so tired from the swirling of chaotic emotions that rocked your normal stagnant world. The warmth of the fur skins and Tai’s heat that he gave you soothed your nerves as your world gently faded into black.

You awoke to a soft snoring and the crackling of fire licking at the wood that he had chopped. When you tried to move, you noticed that the searing warmth was from Tai himself as his arms were wrapped around you, hugging you close to his chest. You couldn’t help but wiggle a little, feeling a little too warm as he murmured something, cracking an eye open.

“Hey.” He said softly, eyes staring down at you with such a gentle emotion.

“Hello.” You answered back, and he gave a lofty chuckle.

“Didn’t mean to get too carried away, there. Couldn’t bear it, seein’ ya so sad...n’ other things.” He admitted calmly, yet his thundering heartbeat gave away his nervousness. You felt your emotions soften with warmth at the notion, looking up at him through your lashes.

“They kept me guarded in the shrine, because they knew what I was planning.” Your cheeks reddened as you continued, and he listened carefully. “I was going to run to you, if I’ve gotten the chance.”  

He looked at you with slight surprise, but the smile stretching across his face was there in an instant as his eyes twinkled with warmth.

“So, we’re married, now? Husband n’ wife?” He asked hopefully as he changed the subject. Such a jovial and excited feeling flooded through you as he mentioned the titles. Yes, wife, you were his wife. Although there wasn’t a ceremony binding you, the two of you were already emotionally bonded, and it was more than you could ask for. Nodding with enthusiasm, you looked at him fully.

“Yes...I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You tasted out the sentence, liking the way it rolled off of your tongue at the fact. At first he seemed to be frozen from mild shock, but then you gave a surprised whimper as he shuffled you closer to him, enveloping you in a heartfelt kiss. It felt so warm, and so right as he took his time in tasting you, running his tongue over the roof of your mouth, your molars, and then sucking gently on your own tongue. You let out a soft whine at the feeling, trying your best to reciprocate his actions as he gripped you a little more tightly, yet squeezing you gently as he let out a surprised grunt of approval as you couldn’t help but deepen the kiss, absentmindedly shifting your leg against his intimate area as he slowly broke away as a string of spittle connected your mouths.

     The both of you were breathing heavily, but you looked almost wrecked, and he didn’t even touch you more intimately, yet. Heat pooled between your legs and you bit off an embarrassed whine as you realized that he could probably scent your arousal. You looked at him, and he was returning your admiring gaze with such a burning fervor, you couldn’t help but kiss him again. He moaned a little in surprise, but then relaxed as he hummed with approval at your boldness.

Breaking away, he chuckled softly as he ran a hand down your back, tucking your chin up ever so gently to look at him.

“Ya know I’ve been wantin’ this for a while. Seein’ yer shy self just bloom up fer me, n’ leavin’ such soft touches will make a pent up man go crazy, Sweetheart.” He bravely admitted, liking the way although your face was probably burning up right now, you were looking up at him with such a hungry stare, he groaned as he couldn’t help but kiss you for the third time, liking the way that you were practically salivating at his suggestive thoughts.  After breaking away, you panted softly as you let the burning emotions flutter through you as you eyed him.

“I love you.” You admitted, leaving him to look down at you with the same killer softness that made you so warm and ticklish inside as he pulled you tighter into his chest.

“I love ya too, Darlin’.” He kissed your head endearingly as the two of you cuddled in silence, enjoying the intimacy. Although it was nice, you still had an unfamiliar itch to scratch, and you knew that he could probably scent out your arousal, but was waiting on you to say something, first. So you did.

“I’d like to consummate our marriage.” You admitted in a tone in which you almost didn’t recognize. He looked at you with very little surprise, and then he stared down at you with such a dark and needy fervor, it made you squirm with need.

“I know that there’s a chance that we’ll do it anyway, but do ya really know whatcha’re askin’ for?” He asked slowly, and you shook your head.

“I still have demon lineage, I’m constantly fightin’ myself from takin’ what I want. It was worse today, y’know? What if I was too late? What if ya were already gone, an’ I never saw ya again? It’s not yer fault, but I had to push down some very dark emotions today.” He explained slowly, making sure that you were well informed. You knew what he was talking about, but you wanted him to say it.

“What are you talking about, Tai?” You asked.

“I wanted to just take ya away somewhere safe, but at the same time, I wanted to just pin you down on the forest floor, n’ just…” He breathed in slowly, as if shamefully admitting this, yet the both of you knew that your heartbeat started to accelerate as his grip on you tightened a little, making you a beacon to the thoughts that were running through his mind. Even though the both of you got the hint on what he was talking about, his eyes burned through you with a dark lust as he dared to finish his sentence.

“...fuck you senseless. I hadda fight down those emotions, an’ they’re still pretty bad. We can try tonight, but I don’t know how or if I can handle them durin’ an intense and emotional time such as love-makin’.” He bit his lip as he quieted, looking at you with worrying, almost pleading expression that you wouldn’t judge. Heat crept upon your cheeks as you reached up and cupped his face, he felt himself relax underneath your gentle gaze as time seemed to stand still.

“I trust you. Besides, I don’t know if my parents will be foolish enough to try to take me away from behind your back, but I know that if I’m claimed, they won’t even bother.” You admitted truthfully, helping the both of you to just take the final leap of faith. He nodded in your hands, eyes burning bright.

“I’ll ask ya one last time, are ya sure? You’re playin’ with somethin’ dangerous, because I don’t think I can trust myself. I’ll do my best to never hurt ya, but still….are. Ya. Sure?” He drew out the words, making sure that you knew what you were getting in to. Honestly? You wanted him. You trusted him, and if he lets himself go, you wanted that part of him, too. You nodded, telling him verbally yes, and he delivered.

 He flipped you onto your back, hovering above you, and you couldn’t help out a low whine of approval. The crackling fire made his muscles and fat glisten with sweat as he stared down at you with such an intensity burning through his amber eyes, you thought that you could probably come undone just by the sight, alone.

…………………….

He knew just from your scent, that you’ve been aroused for quite some time, and honestly? It fed his ego a bit too much, especially how you stared up at him, practically drooling with want as your eyes unabashedly wandered all over him. It made him feel very, very wanted. He moved first, not taking too long to chuck off your wedding attire, pulling out the hairpiece as your hair fell gracefully around you. Not wanting you to be the only one, he stripped, as well, throwing his and your clothes away somewhere as the two of you drank each other in.

 He was feeling a little too warm, seeing you bared out for him, naked, flushed, and what really made his cock twitch, was that you were wet. Your face was red and you looked so shy and vulnerable, especially when you were seeing his cock, all heavy and swollen, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness and need. He kissed you again, more slowly and sweetly, letting the roughness of his calloused hands rub against your skin, letting his thumb brush heavily against a nipple. He held in a gasp as you moaned into his mouth, accidentally brushing your other leg against his dick for the second time in your hazy pleasure, him feeling his pre-cum smear onto your hot skin.

Deepening the kiss, he let himself bite and suck at your lower lip, letting his tongue slide over the sting, as if in a quiet apology. You whined, hands were fisted into his hair now as you returned such favors, although a little too sloppily. He didn’t mind. In fact, he lowered his mouth, feeling the pulse of your throat hum with a surprised yelp as he chuckled, and then harshly sucked, making sure to leave bruises for everybody to see. He groaned as your fingers pulled his hair tighter towards you, and licked the reddening marks in apology, but he really wasn’t sorry, for you were all but chanting his name as in a trance with need.      

Taishiro pulled away, admired the sight, seeing how your body was glistening underneath the crackle of firelight, little sweat droplets rolled off of the peak of your breasts as they jiggled from your panting from another intense kiss. The image will forever be burned within his brain as you looked up at him from cloudy, hazy eyes and swollen lips from his biting and sucking.    

He felt a dark, possessive feeling crept up upon him. Although in control, he did try to warn you, he didn’t want to succumb to his darker desires, especially with you. You were so willing and wet, and blushing, he plunged down the dark thoughts as he lifted up your right leg. An embarrassed sound escaped you, but he chuckled as he started kissing and giving small, feather-like licks on the inside of your thigh and the back of your knee, enjoying the sharp, surprised, and excited gasps that came out of your lips. He wasn’t even close to starting, yet, and yet here you were, aroused scent heightening at the intimate suckles that he was now lavishing on the back of your thigh and leg. You were so cute.

Licking his thumb, he pressed it against your perked nipple, watching your face as he flicked the nub, seeing how much you liked and reveled with the physical attention. He knew that he was stalling from the main event, but he just really wanted to take his time with you, his newlywed wife. A thought passed his mind as he first brushed against your folds, causing you to jump at the slight contact. He probably needed to be gentle. He was so much bigger than your small form, and also...well...he knew that you weren’t experienced. Truthfully, he didn’t care, and loved you no matter what, but he knew that he had to be extra cautious. He never wanted to hurt you, and he knew that he was big.  

So he began rubbing your clitoris and entrance, making sure that your natural juices acted as lubricant to your sensitive, raw bud as he licked a stripe down your inner calve, relishing in the way you let out a pleased mewl. He chuckled.  

“You liked that, Sweetheart?” He murmured against your flushed skin. You nodded as he slipped in two fingers, scissoring them gently and slowly into the almost too tight heat as he eyed you, taking in your small reactions of pleasure mixed with discomfort.

“Actually, I think I want to taste ya.” He said aloud, not hesitating to spread your legs further apart as he bent down to the point in where your flushed, dripping sex was right in front of him. You moaned in surprise, legs automatically tightening around his head as he let out a soft groan as he flicked his tongue against your sopping entrance. Sweet and divine was what you tasted like, and he decided to open you up slowly with his fingers as he also tongue-fucked you.

Your whimpers were the sweetest as you writhed beneath him, legs trembling and hands gripped all too tightly in his hair as he hummed in pleasure at your secretions covering his mouth and chin as he delved three fingers and his fat tongue into almost too tight and warm heat. The sounds were lewd, especially when he couldn’t help but slurp and suck up your flowing arousal, enjoying the sheer intimacy between the two of you as you chirped out his name in warnings that you were about to come. He wanted you to, so he didn’t say anything as he continued his ministrations. He felt his cock twitch as he felt you tightened up around his fat fingers and wet muscle, and then spasm as you held onto him with your hands and legs as if he were a lifeline, calling out to him so sweetly and wanton, that he was afraid that he might cum right then and there.

Breaking away ruefully, he sat up, catching his breath as he stared at you, and his heart skipped a beat and if it were any possible, more blood rushed down south. You looked absolutely wrecked. Your eyes were clouded with tears as drool dribbled down your chin, face, chest, and everything else was flushed with a pretty red as your grip on him loosened as you came down from your orgasmic high, and as if a switch was flipped, he surged forward and kissed you rather roughly. You groaned with pleasure as he massaged your breasts, letting his rough hands palm over and rub at your nubs. His dick rubbed against your thighs, and your hips in return moved on their own accord, trying to reach for more as he bit and sucked at your throat and neck, leaving newer, red marks traveling downwards.  

He broke away, looking down at you with question.

“Are ya alright, Sweetling? Do ya wanna stop?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, raw and hoarse as he hoped to all layers of hells not that you were done, but he would never pressure you into anything that you didn’t want, and would always respect your choice.

“Taishiro, please continue.” Your own voice was even wrecked as you looked at him pleadingly and desperate to come again, and he couldn’t help but growl with almost feral approval that he did that to you.

“Alright, try to relax, okay, my pretty wife?” He found himself humming rather gently as he slicked his own pre-cum down his aching cock, smiling gently as your cheeks flushed with the endearment as you nodded. He kept himself from groaning from not only the friction, but from the sympathetic look that you were giving his dick, as if you wanted to lick it to make it feel better. Later, he thought. Definitely later.

He aligned himself to your entrance, intertwining his free hand with yours as he watched your expression carefully as your legs wrapped around his waist. He tried not to close his eyes as hot, tight heat started to surround him as you forced yourself to relax. He took small breaks, slowly kissing you as he moved inches further, speaking words of encouragement and endearment as you hummed softly in return, hand squeezing his. Finally, he was all the way inside you, letting his forehead rest against yours as he eyed your expression. You didn’t look like you were in pain, only in slight discomfort, but he asked anyway.

“How are you feelin’? Doin’ okay?” He grunted out. His expression softened as you rested a hand upon his cheek, kissing his forehead gently and he couldn’t help but hum with pleasantry at the sweet gesture.

“I’m wonderful. You’re wonderful. Please keep going?” You asked, and he grunted, refusing to refuse such a request. He kept an eye on you, feeling the unfamiliar heat envelope him as he rocked his hips ever so gently, feeling your walls squeeze him impossibly tight as the two of you watched each other’s expressions. He heard of stories. How inexperienced men could leave a woman unsatisfied. Granted he wasn’t too inexperienced, but it was his first time actually being within somebody, and it felt as if it were a sacred connection between the two of you, if he was being honest.

 He’d be damned if he came before you, leaving you unsatisfied, and his pride and ego wounded. He reached down, gently rubbing your clit as you gasped softly at the added friction as he continued the torturous pace. He wanted to buck into you wildly, lose all control as his mind screamed at him to just take what he wanted. He hushed his thoughts. He was taking what he wanted, as it was gifted to him by his lovely wife.

“So beautiful,” He admitted, watching you move your hips awkwardly trying to mimic his pace. Your walls tightened, and he let out a small, breathy laugh mixed with a grunt.  

“of course you’d be into that. My lovely, beautiful wife is taking me so well, hm?” He murmured lowly, as if almost afraid to break the intimacy.

“Taishiro...husband, Dear...please move faster.” You panted, trying to quicken your hips, and he tried not to falter. He trusted you in being sure that you wanted more, and so he obliged, trying to quicken his pace only a little bit, but found himself all but snapping his hips into you with fervor. He couldn’t find it within himself to apologize, for you let out such a beautiful sound as your head threw back, exposing your kissed throat as he felt you tighten even further, close to cumming. The sight fueled him as he couldn’t help but continue his almost punishing pace, one hand still intertwining with yours and the other’s fingers were soaked with pre-cum and your lubricant as it rubbed at your clit.

He sucked and licked at the column of your throat, asking you almost frantically to cum for him, kissing and biting.

“So fuckin’ tight. Such a perfect wife. Ya’re squeezin’ around me so beautifully. ‘M gonna carve my dick within ya. Ya’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He couldn’t help but ramble, half aware of the things he was saying as you finally came around him a second time, and it was beautiful. You screamed his name as fresh tears coated your eyes with ecstasy, eyes squeezing shut as you spasmed uncontrollably around him, and his movements faltered, hips bucking wildly as he came in a large spurt, coating your raw insides as your name called out from his own mouth.

 He fell onto his side, pulling you close to him as the both of you were breathing heavily. Through the orgasmic bliss, he admired the way your breasts rose and fell to the motions of your panting. It took a spell, but the both of you looked weakly at each other, and he tilted your chin up and kissed you softly.

“Did I hurt ya?” He whispered hoarsely. You shook your head.

“No, you were perfect. That was perfect.” You answered back weakly with such warmth filling your eyes, you were practically glowing as you held a soft smile.

“I love you, dearest wife.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, and you melted.

“I love you, too, beloved husband.” You truthfully admitted, squeezing his hand.

He felt himself softened as he gently pulled out of you, grimacing a little as a little blood was mixed in with his seed as it leaked out of you. He looked at you, about to question if you were really alright, but your eyes were shut, and you began to snore softly. He kissed you again, getting up to get a wet cloth from the cave water to wipe you down gently. When he was done, he pulled your sleeping form tightly against him, kissing your forehead as sleep overtook him.  

……………

The morning after, you were a little sore, but you felt so damned happy, you were all over your husband and he relished in the attention that you knew he probably hardly got. He eventually made the both of you new clothes from deer skin, and the two of you packed and left to live in a human village, in your human disguises. Of course there were questions, but you and your husband lived peacefully, never really seeing or hearing from other yokai as the two of you loved each other dearly in domestic bliss.

……..

Whew this took me three days to write as I balanced between work and sleeping. I wanted to write it in Tai-chan’s perspective, and I’m not disappointed. I know there’s a lot of stuff missing, like further details on yokai and sending off wolves don’t have shrines, I don’t think, but it’s for plot. Self indulgent, really, but feel free to like or reblog <3

[aye-write]

Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region. 

 However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is just a quick author's note today! Thanks to everyone who has read and commented! I hope you enjoy another chonk of a chapter and that the starters' introduction went okay! There were a LOT of Pokedex entries this week, so I won't be including them all in the author's note this time, but you can head over to our tumblr @kildo-pokedex​ to see them in full! See you in two weeks, everyone!

*****

Chapter Four

Things moved fast that night. Too fast. Morning dawned, dappling the sky with tangerine oranges and cotton candy pinks, and Isla soon found herself packed and standing on the doorstep of the cottage she’d almost come to think of as home.

Rhona fussed over Skye’s layers and blankets for so long that Isla thought they’d never get away. Even Blair started to look nervous, casting pointed glances first at his watch and then at his mother. It would be a long walk, he said loudly, at least five hours of walking, and they needed to get on. Finally Rhona got the hint and passed over a mammoth bag of sandwiches, juice, and crisps – enough to sustain an army for about a week – and both parents said their goodbyes. Rhona’s eyes were wet with tears when she broke her hug with her daughter.

Isla moved forward, meaning just to offer thanks, but before she could open her mouth, Rhona swept her into a rib-crunching hug.

“Now you be careful out there, chick,” Rhona said, her breath tickling the whorls of Isla’s ear. “You always have a home here with us, alright? Don’t you dare be a stranger. I expect to see you again here before you go back to Johto, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isla said, her voice thick.

Kenneth shook her hand next, his huge fingers easily engulfing hers. He had a firm grip, yet surprisingly soft hands, and when Isla drew back, she found he’d slipped her two crisp twenty pokedollar notes.

“Kenneth, thank you, but I can’t take—”

“You take care of yourself,” he said firmly.

Isla decided not to argue. Especially when it was the most the giant man had ever said to her in one go before.

Blair took his mother’s hug with an embarrassed grimace, nodding along to a laundry list of instructions she hurled his way. Make sure you take frequent breaks. Don’t let Skye go wandering on her own. Make sure you feed a Clatty if you see one, it’s good luck. Don’t dare go any further than Aberdrip. Eventually, Kenneth clamped his hand on Rhona’s shoulder, and she stopped.

“I suppose you best be going, eh?” she said, forcing a quivering smile. “Before it gets too late on. Have fun, darlings. Call me when you get there. Be safe.”

“Thanks for everything, Rhona,” Isla said, her voice catching. She had to turn around to shield her face from view.

Blair, who had been battling to fit Rhona’s supplies into their travelling bag, grunted with satisfaction as he finally got the zip up, leaving the bag bulging like an overripe balloon. He felt around at his waist, unhooked a Pokeball, and tossed it over the gate.

“Coastrot, come out!”

Isla let out a breath as the ball burst open and she came face to face with Blair’s Pokemon. Easily reaching Blair’s shoulders, it had a long, lithe body with a clipped coat the colour of the ocean under the morning sky. Even when it stayed still, its mane and tail rippled like plumes of gentle flowing water. It was a stunning Pokemon – right down to its dark, inquisitive eyes and glistening hooves – but there was something unusual about it that Isla couldn’t quite put her finger on. As she stared, Coastrot’s body seemed to blur, wavering in front of her like a picture on a TV with a dodgy signal.

Blair saw her staring. “Touch him,” he suggested.

Isla frowned, uncertain. Under Blair’s watchful eye, she reached out to touch this new Pokemon, only for her hand to slip straight through its body, as easily as if she had just put her hand through a hologram. She whipped her hand away like she’d just been shocked. The Pokemon’s body turned solid again the moment Blair touched it to string up one of the bags.

Isla consulted her Pokedex. “Coastrot, the Mirage Pokemon. Its translucent body refracts light, and it will often appear as though it is surrounded by rainbows. If it doesn’t trust someone, they will not be able to touch it. This is seen as an unlucky omen by some.”

“Amazing,” she said. “So it only lets people it trusts touch it?”

“That’s right,” Blair nodded.  “Coastrot is actually the evolved form of one of the Kildo starters. He was my starter, so he’s been in the family a long time, but it still wasn’t easy for him to trust all of us. He lets me touch him, of course, and Skye, and sometimes Dad, but Mum is still a tricky case. Since he’s only just met you, it may take him a while to warm up.”

“That’s okay,” Isla held her hand out for the Pokemon to sniff. Its nose passed straight through her hand, a sensation rather like she’d plunged her hand into a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

Blair clapped on Coastrot’s haunches, signalling everything was secured. He called for Skye and helped boost her up, Isla holding her breath as she entertained a vision of Skye sinking right through the Pokemon’s ethereal back. Luckily, Coastrot remained solid and strong, allowing Skye to settle herself.

“Hold onto his mane, there,” Blair fussed. “No, not there. That’s too tight. Just there, look.”

Skye made several wide-eyed glances over the Pokémon’s massive haunches as Blair made the final checks. Isla offered her a smile.

“I take it that you won’t be going for Coastrot’s evolution for your first Pokemon, then?” she whispered.

Skye shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Definitely not.”

As she waited, a breath of wind lifted the hair from Isla’s forehead, already moist with sweat from the heat of the beating sun. She’d dressed light, in a loose, billowing top two sizes up from her normal, and a pair of comfortable jogging trousers, but she still worried about the journey. The bag slung on her shoulders didn’t feel heavy now, but walking would leaden it. She’d sprayed most of a bottle of antiperspirant on herself before setting out, but she still had doubts about its efficiency. She could only hope they would take it slow and she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

“That’s us,” Blair announced. “We’re ready to go.”

And with one final look back at the Whispering Pines Croft, they set off.

**

Having left the confines of the family croft, Blair switched into serious mode. He had done some travelling when he was younger, he explained as they walked, enough to know the basics, and he’d made the journey between Aberdrip and Port Glen enough times to pick out the best route to accommodate Coastrot. Their chosen path along Route 1 started out as a stretch of delightfully flat ground, buffeted by a strong, salt-smelling, easterly wind. After an hour, the flat paths became bumpy and wild, grass rising as high as their knees, the tips of trees bordering the horizon.

Blair told them stories as they walked, a welcome distraction for the pain needling through Isla’s legs. He brought them to a stop at the peak of a hill to point out Loch Culla in the distance, a shimmering body of water neatly fringed with trees. A place claimed to be the home of an entire family of shiny Kildonian Lapras.

Skye’s shriek of excitement at this news startled Coastrot, and Blair had to dart to her rescue in case she was catapulted off. She wasn’t fazed. She still insisted on making the detour so they could go hunting for one. Blair laughed. The loch was a protected area for that exact purpose, he explained, and catching Pokemon wasn’t allowed there.

“But we can manage a picnic nearby,” Blair added when Skye’s face fell. “Come on, let’s go.”

Back to walking it was. Isla forced herself back to her feet. To give Blair his dues, he factored in plenty of breaks, at every rest stop or every half an hour, whichever came first. He said he wanted Coastrot to get plenty of rest, as he wasn’t used to carrying weight over long distances. Isla wasn’t sure how true that was, but she was grateful all the same. If Blair and Skye saw her flushed face, sweat patches, and occasional gasps for breath, they were very kind and didn’t draw attention to it.

As promised, they unpacked a picnic at the bank of Loch Culla and shared out sandwiches, fruit, and flavoured waters. Sitting in the shade, listening to the water lapping against the bank, and sipping their drinks fresh from the cool bag, Isla felt totally at peace, despite the numbing aches sprouting in the back of her calves. Blair recalled Coastrot for a proper rest, but Isla released Soba and Wingull to stretch their legs and wings. To keep Wingull amused, but more to stop him stealing, she lobbed his food into the air, sending him swooping and diving over the loch and into the deep grass in pursuit.

Skye didn’t eat much, her eyes trained on the still loch water. When Blair nudged her back to reality, she folded her arms and said, “Blair, I’m looking for Lapras. Leave me alone.”

Isla saw him roll his eyes, but when he spoke to his sister, his tone was nothing but gentle and respectful. “You won’t see them, Skye. It’s massively rare to see a Kildonian Lapras out in the open. They live pretty much entirely underwater. Proper deep down.”

Isla looked up from her sandwich. “Do they? They don’t in Johto.”

“Yep. Kildonian ones are different types too. Ours are Ghost and Dragon.”

“Water and Ice for us.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty different, isn’t it? I think the mainland variant travel a lot, but you can pretty much trace all Kildonian Lapras to just one or two lochs here. They don’t move around a lot. Hence why the area is protected.”

“It doesn’t look protected?” Isla said, looking around. There wasn’t a stitch of modern technology to be seen. No buildings. No cameras. Heck, there didn’t even seem to be any other people around other than just them. “There’s nothing here.”  

“Doesn’t need to be. See that sign?” Blair pointed out a sign nailed to a nearby tree. A bold, crimson X was splayed across a black and white image of a Pokeball. “That sign lets us know that there’s Anti-Pokeball Interference here. API for short.” When he saw Isla’s blank face, he frowned. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but basically, Dad said that it transmits some sort of signal that humans and Pokemon can’t hear, but it scrambles the capture mechanism on all Pokeballs. Makes them nothing more than fancy paperweights.”

“We certainly don’t have that in Johto.”

“It’s pretty new. Just come into fashion over the last year. Lot of folks don’t like it, though. I think they had protests out in Tideburgh. They say it violates our rights to catch Pokemon and that it’s going to lead to overpopulation. If you ask me, it’s a load of Tauros shi— uh, nonsense,” he corrected himself when Skye turned her head.

They lapsed into silence, Isla pretending to be fascinated with her sandwich crusts. They’d gone dry and hard in the sun, and she nibbled at them ineffectively. Wingull, amazingly, had eaten its fill and had nestled with his head (mostly) under one stubby wing. Soba, who had been luxuriating in the sun, had fallen asleep curled around a bottle of lemonade. Blair lay back in the grass, his eyes shut, making occasional contented noises. Skye was scribbling something in a notebook patterned with Slugma.

“We’ll head off soon,” Blair yawned. “I just want to rest my eyes for a few minutes.”

The soft noise of snoring drifted over the wind moments later. Isla had to resist the urge to join him. Sitting down had been fatal. Now her eyes felt as heavy as her legs and the thought of getting up again made tiredness sink into the very pit of her. She could shut her eyes for a few minutes, she reasoned. Just a few minutes. Just a few—

“Isla!” a voice cut through her thoughts. “Isla! Isla, look!”

Isla had to force open her eyes, gummed together like chewy toffee. Skye was on her feet, pointing at the nearby undergrowth.

“What’s goin—”

“Shush!” Skye hissed. “Just look!”

In amongst the green, leafy fronds was a flash of something dull and brown. It emerged from the grass like a Furret in miniature. It had a long, snake-like body, the colour of dark chocolate, and a cream underbelly. Its sharp, inquisitive nose twitched, and its tail swished like an over-eager feather duster.

“What is that?” Isla gasped, pulling her Pokedex out.

“It’s a Mudstel!” Skye said, just as Isla’s Pokedex chirped “Mudstel, the Mud Ferret Pokemon. Curious, but shy, Mudstel rely on their stealth and environment when hunting. They blend in well among trees and bushes, but if spotted, will quickly burrow underground to escape.”

“Gosh, it must be hungry if it’s come right out in the open!” Skye breathed out. “Can we try feeding it?”

“Yeah, if you like. Try it with the crusts there.”

Skye offered the Mudstel some of the uneaten crusts. The Pokemon held back, its nose twitching, eyes unblinking. Skye stretched her hand out further.

“Wait, Skye. Stay as still as you can,” Isla advised, not even daring to breathe too loudly in case she startled it. Skye’s wavering arm came to a stop. “That’s it. Let it come to you.”

After a few moments, the Mudstel stretched out its long, ribbon-like body. Skye looked like she was about to burst from excitement, but somehow, managed to stay still. Isla caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth as Mudstel opened its mouth and snatched the crusts from Skye’s hand. It didn’t pause to eat them, just turned on its heels, and dove back into the undergrowth.

They waited, but Mudstel didn’t come back out.

Skye looked crestfallen as the grass went still. “Bread crusts aren’t all that nutritious,” she said mournfully. “I wish it had stayed and I could have given it some Pokemon food. I think we even have some Pokemon Rock. That would have been even better for it.”

Isla made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe we can leave some pellets for it when we pack up and leave?”

“Maybe. But I wish I could have caught it. I don’t want it to end up starving. Mudstel wouldn’t come out and take food from humans if it could help it.”

“Some Pokemon are just opportunistic, Skye. He probably has plenty of chances to get food and then saw us and thought “Oh yes, a free lunch!” Pokemon are clever. They can take care of themselves.”

“I suppose.”

Isla slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Try not to worry,” she said. “We’ll be in Aberdrip soon and you’ll have your very own Pokemon before you know it.”

“I know,” Skye said. “I just… wish I could make friends with all of them. I don’t want any of them to suffer.”

“Then I think that means you’ll be a good trainer.”

Skye smiled. Isla’s heart skipped a little. Could this really be the first time that she had ever seen the younger girl smile?

A sudden kerfuffle sent them both looking over Blair, who snorted and pushed himself upright, making a strange gulping noise. “I wasn’t asleep! I wasn’t… sleeping?” He looked blearily across at Skye and Isla. “Was I sleeping?”

They didn’t answer. Instead, the noise of their laughter echoed across the loch like water tinkling from a waterfall.

**

They had stopped for another break on Route 3, a densely wooded path littered with fallen leaves and fresh with the smell of moss, when Blair got a text through on his phone.

Immediately, he was dialling a number, face twisted, and one hand covering his ear to block out the shrill shriek of the local Caperchick. A Caperchick, as Isla had found out was another of Kildo’s resident bird Pokemon. Pretty much helpless as babies, they were only able to eat, sleep, and call for help from others in their family group. Isla had hoped to see one, but Blair dissuaded her, explaining their later evolutions were territorial and aggressive. Most wouldn’t take kindly to humans on their turf.

It still didn’t stop her, or Skye, from hoping. Skye got up to wander four times while Blair stepped away to speak on the phone, poking at the bases of trees and among tall grasses. Or maybe she was just doing it to fill the time. Whatever conversation Blair was having, it was taking a lot of it.  

When Blair did eventually return, his face was pale. “That was Mum on the phone.”

Isla’s instant thought was Nana Morag. “Is everything okay?”

“Kind of. She’s just back from the hospital. Nana Morag is doing better, they think she’ll be alright to come home soon as long as she gets plenty of bed rest.”

“Did they find out what it was that made her ill?”

“They’re still waiting on some test results,” Blair said, worry creasing his eyebrows into one long caterpillar. “She said she’ll phone me as soon as they hear. Now, the other thing. Mum said she had a voicemail waiting for her when she got out of the hospital. It was one of Professor Spruce’s aides.”

Skye stopped what she was doing, pricking her head up.

“There was some problem with the breeders they use to supply the new trainers and they don’t have enough to supply everyone who wanted one.”

Skye looked ready to burst into tears. Blair saw this and quickly assured, “Don’t panic, Skye. They’ve just moved it to a booking system instead to try and get as many folks sorted as possible today. Mum gave me the number and I called the aide. You’re still getting your Pokemon – as long as we get there in time.”

Skye visibly relaxed but Isla felt like something had severed her at the chest. “When’s Skye’s slot?”

“2pm. It was the only one I could get. All the others were filled.  

Isla looked at the time on her phone. It was already ten to one.  

“Yeah,” Blair said, as Isla caught his eye. “We need to hurry.”

**

Isla hoped that adrenaline would see them through. That they could power on the remaining couple of miles without feeling the pain or the tiredness, subsisting only on the rush of purpose to get there. But it was hell. Pure hell. As they half walked, half jogged along unsteady ground, the air dense and muggy, the heat of the sun dripped down their backs.

I can’t let Skye down, Isla told herself as she dragged her aching limbs over the nobbled hump of yet another hillock. I’ll never forgive myself if I let her down.

Once, when the shooting pain of a stitch left her doubled over, she told Blair and Skye to go on without her. But she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Blair cut in with “Absolutely not. We’re going together,” and that was the end of it.  

As it ticked closer and closer, the clouds receded, and the sun intensified. The air remained stubbornly heavy and humid. Finally, they were over another hill and Aberdrip loomed in the distance, a monochrome city with silver buildings reaching up like metallic petals. They didn’t stop to take in much else. Feet pounding the concrete, each step sending pinpricks of pain up Isla’s legs, Blair hailed a taxi. In one confusing bundle of recalled Pokemon, sorting of bags, and too many legs in one small space, they clambered in. Within minutes, they were speeding along the blurred roads, the streets like smears of running ink.

Professor Spruce’s lab sat right at the western outskirts of Aberdrip in a plot of land closed off by wrought iron gates. The taxi driver dropped them off at the bottom, and after buzzing through to the office, they were on their way up the vicious uphill path to Professor Spruce’s lab.

Stumbling through the front door, trembling with exertion, Isla checked her phone. Three minutes to two. They’d made it.

A concerned looking aide lead them through a maze of breezeblocked hallways. Skye stuck so close to Blair that they practically became one person. The aide opened a door at the end of a particularly long corridor, and they emerged into a room groaning with workbenches and strange equipment that wouldn’t have looked amiss in an old sci-fi film. The room was wonderfully chilled, the overhead fans pumping in swathes of cool air.

Blair and Skye gave the aide their names, Blair signed a proffered sheet, and then they were shepherded through into an adjoining room. As they stepped through, Isla felt the eyes of a dozen people land on her.

“Ah, Skye McLeod, is it?” came a voice from ahead of them. “Excellent. I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

Skye tensed next to Isla as the woman who had spoken – Isla assumed this was Professor Spruce – beckoned them forward. She was small, rounded, with greying hair slung into a messy bun. Her eyes were sharp, glinting like the sheen of ice over a frozen puddle. Easily a foot shorter than everyone else in the room, she still commanded everyone’s attention.

With a wave of her hand, Professor Spruce separated Skye and the two other young trainers – one girl and one boy – from their respective guardians. Isla collapsed gratefully into a nearby chair. Blair was rigid in his own seat as Professor Spruce took the new trainers through the standard “First Pokemon” spiel. It was a comforting lecture, so much so that mixed with the relief they had made it in time, Isla soon felt her eyelids drooping.

Then, voices surged.

“I want to go first!”

“No, I’m going first!”

“Enough!” Professor Spruce barked, her voice tight. “Being a Pokemon trainer isn’t about who goes first. It’s not even about getting exactly what you want. If you go into this life expecting to get what you want all the time, you are setting yourself up for failure Pokemon are as unique and individual as each one of you. A “weak” Pokemon can become strong from the right training and support. On your journey as trainers, I encourage you to open your hearts and minds. Embrace all that this region has to offer you. Take a chance on people – and Pokemon – you might not expect to. They might just surprise you. Now, young lady…” Professor Spruce’s eyes fixed on Skye, who had been sitting quietly the whole way through. “Why don’t you come up and pick your partner?”

Frozen under the expectant gaze, Skye didn’t move. The other two new trainers muttered as the silence grew. The faces of the parents clouded. Still Skye didn’t move. Or perhaps she couldn’t.

Isla pushed herself out of her chair. Despite the angry murmurings from the other guardians, she threaded herself in next to her. “Skye, do you want to go up first?” she asked.  

Skye nodded.

“Would you like me to go up with you? Or maybe Blair?”

She shook her head, but no words came out.

“Just take your time. I know it’s a bit scary, but you can do it.”

With the encouragement, Skye faced the three Pokeballs next to Professor Spruce. Each one was furnished with a plaque listing information about the Pokemon inside. Isla read them over, trying to absorb the information quickly, in case she was asked to sit back down. One Grass starter, one Fire, one Water. Exactly the same as Johto.

Coozy, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Little Cow Pokemon

Good natured and docile, this Coozy is an excellent choice for those who enjoy a slow and steady pace in life. Be careful not to let him get lazy and complacent!

*

Bleater, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Nightlight Pokemon

Aloof yet curious, this Bleater will be a loyal companion to any trainer willing to take the time to get to know him. Be warned, Bleater are prone to dependency on their trainers later in life.

*

Coltide, Lv5

Gender: Male

The Water Horse Pokemon

Spirited and independent, this Coltide can be a handful without firm guidance in the beginning. However, you will rarely find a more dedicated Pokemon out there!

*

Curiosity burned at the back of Isla’s head, but now wouldn’t be the right time to interrupt everything by checking. For now, she turned back to the chairs and waited as Skye made her final decision.

“This one.” Skye eventually said. “I would like this one, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Professor Spruce said kindly. “Why don’t you take your, uh… guardians towards the back and fill out the paperwork? The aide will have your license waiting for you.”

“You go,” Isla motioned to Blair. “I’ll wait here.”

While Skye was away dealing with her paperwork, Isla watched the two remaining trainers making their picks. Compared to Skye, there was no hesitation. The boy beelined immediately for Coltide, but the other girl seemed perfectly happy to be left with Coozy. Which, of course, meant that Skye had chosen Bleater.

One by one, the families left for the other room, and Isla had the chance to look closer at the three Kildo starters. She painstakingly punched the names – or her best memory of them – into the Pokedex and clicked Image Search.

Coozy, she decided, would have been her choice. It was almost painfully cute; small, and quadrupedal, covered in a thick coat of moss green fur, a pale pink nose, and dark inquisitive eyes. Her arms ached to hug it.

Now, Bleater was cute too, she thought. It reminded her of a favourite Johto Pokemon – a Mareep – just smaller. Its wool was coarse and tightly packed against the body, in a vivid orange, the colour of flame. Its short, stubby legs and the small nubs of horns were a much darker orange, a striking contrast to the rest of its body.

The final one, Isla could figure out on her own. An aqua blue body, a mane and tale reminiscent of flowing water, black hooves polished like obsidian, and dark, beguiling eyes. Coltide, the previous evolution of Blair’s Coastrot.

“You seem very interested in the starters, young lady,” Professor Spruce’s voice cut through Isla’s thoughts, making her jump. “Not local?”

“How could you tell?” Isla laughed nervously.

“I’ve been around the block too many times,” Professor Spruce said. “Kanto?”

“No, Johto. My accent is a bit softer though, so I get why people mix them up.”

“Johto, eh? That’s a long trip. What brings you here?”

“Visiting family. And some research into the Kildonian Chessmen.”

Professor Spruce’s eyes widened. “How interesting.”

A perfect opportunity had fallen right into her lap. She would be stupid not to take advantage of it now. “Professor, do you know anything about them?” she asked. “Or the Vitalities? Anything you could tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like where they could be found?”

Professor Spruce’s eyebrow arched. “Well, no-one really knows where the Chessmen are now. Recent reports claim they settled in remote places – like islands far away from the mainland or underground. But that’s all just theories. There hasn’t been a confirmed sighting in over a century. But the Vitalities, on the other hand…”

Isla leant forward, closing the space between them.

Professor Spruce seemed to think better of what she was about to say and let out a sigh. “You have to understand something first. The Vitalities are a polarising bunch. Much of my generation, us old folks, even some of the more… naïve younger people believe the Vitalities are responsible for the natural disasters around Kildo.”

This wasn’t news to Isla, but still she pressed “Why?”

“The Vitalities brought many gifts to humans. Some were used wisely. Others weren’t. One of the most enduring theories is that the Chessmen banished and trapped the Vitalities to four remote corners of Kildo to prevent them intervening in humans’ natural progress. There’s an argument to be made that the natural disasters are the Vitalities fighting back, I suppose rebelling against their banishment.”

“So, no-one knows where they are? Or the Chessmen?”

Professor Spruce shook her head. “You may have noticed that Kildo is a region on a precipice. Pokemon journeys, gym circuits, the battling leagues, these are all very new to us. And they’ve become very popular very quickly. Up until about twenty years ago, most people in Kildo only used Pokemon to help them work the land, to till crops, things like that. It was like the whole region carried this collective memory, a shared fear of what happened when technology became too great a force.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes. But that fear has diluted. It’s been lost among much of the new generation. Things have changed. We’ve made amazing technological advances since then, eclipsed even some of the other regions that have been doing this for much longer. I’m sure you’ve heard about our API technology and Ability Suppressors and Experience Boosters, all that sort of thing.” Isla hadn’t, but she didn’t want to stop her and ask. Lots of people think it’s amazing. Lots more people are scared. Scared that if the Chessmen were to wake again, and were to see the way we have advanced, they would do exactly what they did the last time they awoke.”

The phrase festering in Isla’s mouth felt ridiculous. Laughable. But something compelled her to say it anyway.

“That they would destroy the whole region?”

Professor Spruce’s piercing grey eyes met Isla’s.

“Exactly.”