#''those (...) that fell from the three moons; the research about (...) and wishes...''

[aromanticasterisms]

getting to the bottom of the new area and going oh 1. ajaw was telling the truth about what (he thinks) he was 2. so that's why he looks like that 3. did kinich go to ochkanatlan to meet him or was he set up somewhere else

[writing-in-lesbian]

A Heiress in love. Pt. 6

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female Reader Tags: angst, fluff, Translations: Hainofi = princess // Strik sis [Strisis] = little sister // Ai hod yu in = I love you // Ste yuj = Stay strong // Yu laik ai kru = You are my people // Oso laik wonkru = We are one clan // Ai hod you in seintaim = I love you too // Em pleni = enough // Ai laik Heda = I’m the commander // Jomp em op en you jump ai op // Attack her and you attack me. Chapter synopsis: As the enemies get closer, our new appointed commander embarks on a much personal journey.

A/N: This story keeps sending me into new research topics! I hope I’m doing them justice. Also since there aren’t a lot of trigedeslang transistors, everything in italics and underlined would be trigedeslang. Again, I’m partying ways from some canon events in the 100 in order for this to work. Work is not beta’d so all mistakes are mine.

Chapter 6 - The prince, the princess and death.

Tuesday 03:30 a.m.

That’s what you think the time it’s based on the stars illuminating the sky. You observe Wanda sleeping peacefully close to the table where you left her, having you decided to meditate a little.

Your soul is restless, for some reason, you can’t stop thinking about the impending war and the consequences it might have, you make a mental note to send Henry a message tomorrow night, the device for communications being at your chambers, just to ask him how’s everything on their side.

The night is silent.

It should feel peaceful but it’s thick with anticipations of something you quite don’t understand. A lot has happened in a few days, and the constant changing of things does nothing to calm your mind. You think of your family, especially your mother, How many battles and wars has she seen already in her life? She deserves a quiet life, For years she was just surviving, making amends with death but then your mom quite literally fell from the sky and well, they both deserve a quiet life already. Haven’t they suffered enough?

Your mind travels to the redhead close to you and how you went from wishing to know her to being betrothed. Funny how sometimes the universe chooses to give us what we wanted. You notice her slim figure and, think how much harder all of this is being for her, and, not for the first time, you wish you could do more, be more, for those you love and care about.

Wondering as well about your other guests, they will probably leave tomorrow sometime during the day, hoping Pietro or Natasha could stay a little bit more, for Wanda’s sake. Taking your eyes off Wanda you look at the sky and the moon, shining bright above you, making her best effort to bring solace to your query mind.

Raven told you once that your mind thought 800 thoughts per millisecond, never shutting up and it would be a good thing for Lexa to start training you on how to effectively lessen them. You should have paid more attention to your lessons, maybe if your mother had been the one to show you instead of Octavia, you would have studied more, ‘cause you definitely want that state of mind right now.

In a few hours, your party will leave for Tondc, despite the political air it has, that’s where you’ll go to get your tattoo done, right at Becca’s bunker. You’re still amazed at how a lot of things changed when it comes to the Commander rituals, thanks to your mother and her rules.

Closing your eyes again, you try to concentrate, inhaling and exhaling slowly, one, two, three times, but before you can reach the fourth inhalation you hear Wanda whining. Your instinct and need to protect her takes over you and you go to her side immediately. Later when you are questioned, you will recall seeing the red wisps coming from her hands but claim you didn’t notice until it was too late.

You touch her shoulder trying to wake her up and receive a blast of red magic, that, upon impact does feel a little weird, but is enough to send you flying and crashing against one of the bigger rocks on the wall. You have to thank Raven for teaching you to cover your head when being sent flying and crashing from explosions. That summer you spent with her and she used you as a dummy test (to the displeasure of your mothers), is proving to be effective now.

Still, the hard impact is enough to leave you unconscious. … … … … … … … … …

You awake (or regain consciousness) to the sound of screaming. Trying as quick as you can, you force your body to get up, opening your eyes but the air is strong, making it harder for you to see, so you instantly close them again.

Putting your hand covering your eyes you walk towards what you think is the table, squinting your way out.

“Wanda?” You scream but your voice can’t be heard.

The noises are too loud.

You somehow see the smoke rising from the way the Tower is. Feeling your stomach drop, you turn and try to look for Wanda but all you see is fire where the table used to be, you still make your way back to it.

“Wanda, where are you?” But the clouds are covering the moon and there’s a lot of fog, making it impossible to see beyond a certain range, you’re not sure if it’s from the smoke or the chill air, but is starting to get into your lungs. Covering your mouth you reach the table.

Nothing.

BOOM

The loud explosions close to you are enough to destroy the rock walls and send you to the floor looking for cover. Eyes closed, not making a move, you hide behind the hidden part of the table, covering your mouth, trying not to make a sound with your coughs. Inhaling, and exhaling, you calm your state but are still stiff as a rock, you’re not sure where the explosions are coming from or if someone is near.

“Wanda, where are you?” You try again, thinking as hard as you can this time, remembering how it seemed to work a few hours ago, hoping it gets to her again.

Silence.

Eery silence.

Not even the wind makes a noise.

Opening one eye you can’t see any fire or smoke. In fact, everything seems exactly as it was before the explosions, the moon and the stars shining bright above you.

Carefully, you start getting up from your crouching position, sword at the ready. What the hell is going on? Your (e/c) eyes scan the area, looking for a sign of Wanda, at this point, for someone, anybody to appear.

“Welcome… Strisis” you remember well that voice.

It lulled you to sleep many times, but it’s impossible for you to hear it again right now. Turning carefully, one foot at a time, forcing your body to move, refusing to opening your eyes. Counting one to three in your head, you slowly bring light to your vision.

Truth is, it’s not impossible as it seems.

He’s standing there in all his glory, just like you used to remember him. Clad in all black, his blue eyes contrasting his sandy blonde hair, but his hair is well stylish and not as sweaty as normal, due to all the training he’d done. He’s sporting a small smile, the same one he reserved just for you.

“Aden” a whisper you’re not sure it came from your lips.

Tentatively you take a step, he’s the same height you remember him, except this time, you are taller than him. Although you’re not as tall as your mother, you somehow reached Clarke’s height, still, Aden, as you see him now, is shorter than you.

“I have been waiting for you” yet he doesn’t move nor make any intent to come closer. You look at your surroundings, but nothing seems different than when you entered this place.

“How… what… is it really you?” You refuse to believe what’s in front of you. The reality of having him here could mean just one thing.

“I am” he still doesn’t move.

“I don’t understand… am I?”

“Your betrothed holds a lot of power”

You frown at the mention of Wanda. Where is she anyway?

“No need to worry Sistris, despite unconsciously trying, she cannot enter where we are”

“What?” The fog in your brain is going away slowly. You recall the night, meditating, Wanda whining…

And the red sparks.

“We’re in my mind?”

“Not quite Y/N, we are in something similar to the City of Lights. I’m guessing this was a result of her”

“Wanda?”

“Is that her name? I always wondered. Mother used to call her the Lady with magic hands, not the best phrase is you ask, no wonder mom almost choked on her water”

His laugh is remarkable and something you wished to hear more often when he was alive. Wait, your mothers knew Wanda had magic? Is that why they accepted Stark’s offer? But, if they know she has magic, and certainly all her clan know, why would ask for your union? You don’t hold anything compared to Wanda’s abilities, so what can you bring to the table?

“A lot more of what you think sistris"

Continuing to ignore him, for your own sake, a lot of things haven’t made a lot of sense so trying to search for it, under the circumstances will just bring you a massive headache.

“You said we’re in the City of Lights but is not my mind”

“I said, we are in something similar. This is still part of your mind. Lady Maximoff can’t enter this space, more than anyone, you should know and it’s not because of the chaos”

Despite your best efforts, you feel a headache coming. Is that possible? Feeling a headache while inside your head?

“Sunrise is coming sistris”

“Wait, Aden… don’t go” The fear of losing him again makes you act on instinct, recalling the sensation you felt all those years ago, closing the distance an embracing him.

He smells like pine and wood, combined with some citric notes, a little bit different from what you remember. Back in the day, you always mumbled he smelled like rain, Madi taunted him saying you meant it was wet dirt, but to you, it was something fresh.

“I’m here”

Despite the height difference now, you feel his strong arms circling you and comforting you in a way only older brothers can.

You don’t want to let him go and refuse to close your eyes in case he disappears. What if he’s a fragment of your imagination?

“I’m real”

He takes your face and cradles it with his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Let us walk” he grabs your hand while you both walk, using his hand as an anchor to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Upon close inspection, you see now the lake where he used to take you and Madi.

“War is coming sistris, and nothing can prevent it, not even chaos itself”

This information is not a surprise to you. Maybe you knew it all along, feared it but hoped for a peaceful resolution. That feeling of emptiness you had and the restlessness you felt prior was a way of rejecting the truth.

“Mother has taught you well. You’re better than I was. No wonder the spirit of the prior commanders is calling and choosing you”

“Aden” the rest of your sentence dies there, hanging in the air because you well know that, if he would still be alive, the commander would have chosen him and you would have been a simple heiress, waiting for her turn to the throne.

Your only reward was avenging his death when you were of age. To be fair, it was a clean duel, Ontari should have known it was coming.

“I never had the flame but I feel them now. And they are all anxious for what’s to come. You have a powerful ally Y/N and your future wife can be the decisive key to win or lose, it will depend on you”

You let go of his hand and stay rooted in place. Wanda have a part in this?

“We are no wiser nor gods to decide someone's destiny”

“And yet here you are telling me I’m the one who will scale the balance”

“I’m just a messenger”

“You’re one of the judges aren’t you?”

“I’m not sistris. I’m here on your request”

What request? What the hell is happening? One sec you’re trying to meditate and the next you’re in some kind of extremely weird dream, talking to your deceased brother like it was a casual walk at your favorite lake.

And now Wanda has come into the equation.

At her mention or more of your thoughts on her, you see red fog covering some bushes at the other side of the lake.

Aden follows your sight.

“Chaos awaits. It destroys and creates, it can never be tamed or understood but it can be beautiful if loved”

“Why do you keep referring to the chaos?”

“Sistris…” his face is filled with genuine curiosity, frowning his eyebrows exactly like your mother. And not for the first time you’re considering, that in fact, you’re the adopted one of the family.

“What Aden?” Yet you don’t look at him.

“Your betrothed has chaos magic”

He’s expecting a reaction from you but it honestly doesn’t affect you the type of magic Wanda has, why everybody is making a huge deal out of this is beyond your mind. The red fog in the meantime seems to get bigger and bigger.

“Y/N” a whisper comes from the bushes.

Your eyes are still glued to the color red, and for a flicker of a second, a silhouette starts forming only to vanish right after. Curios.

“Sunrise is coming and we cannot be late” That makes you turn to him.

You’re back at the ceremonial place but it seems darker, the stars are far gone and the moon seems to hide behind clouds

“Y/N” the voice seems familiar, you hear it so close to you but yet so far.

Aden walks closer to you when he sees the same red fog getting closer and circling the ceremonial place.

“Curios” Aden’s voice seems now like a whisper.

He places his hand on your shoulders, the act making you face him. His face is serious, a carbon copy of your mother.

“There are things I’m not allowed to tell. The knowledge we possess is not carved on stone and there are things that escape my mind as soon as I want to say them”

“Will I see you again?”

“You will know the answer to that”

Feeling a pull, you notice the red fog is close just to you, it plays around your hand. Aden sees it as well.

“Curios indeed” and you feel his strong arms once again around you and you take the opportunity to absorb his scent, to feel secure in his strength.

“I feel the pain in your heart. Mother loves you, don’t doubt it”

Sometimes we just need encouragement to fuel the fire inside of us. Until this point, you never thought simple words could do that.

“Ste yuj sistris” he says almost in a whisper, kissing your forehead. “Yu laik ai kru, Oso laik wonkru. Trust us, trust the commander in you, and tell your betrothed I said that to her as well”

Opening your eyes you see him still in front of you but the red fog is pulling you towards it. You see Aden moving his lips but can’t hear what he says.

“Aden?”

Trying to walk to him your way is stopped by the fog.

“ADEN” you yell and feel the tears falling from your eyes, just like that night many years ago. “ADEN”

“Curios indeed. Ai hod yu in heinofi” his silhouette seems like it’s vanishing from your line of vision, combined with a tinted red from the fog around your body, feeling warm and not unwelcome at all.

And as soon as the words leave his mouth, you’re completely covered in the red fog… and all goes dark. … … … … … … … … …

You can hear noises but they are too loud for you to comprehend what’s happening. Your mind feels foggy and you feel tired, the pain in your head has become a migraine. You can feel the pressure on one side.

Feeling hands on your shoulders, slowly but surely the noises around you have started to get clear and you can identify voices, Madi, Octavia and Natasha are yelling and you feel pretty sure if you were to open your eyes, you can bet they’re doing some type of training.

“Y/N, please wake up”

“I told you to stay away from her!”

“Don’t you dare touch her if you want to keep your hand”

“Aden… don’t go” it scales as a whisper from your lips.

For a moment, you stop hearing Madi and Octavia and all you can feel are the hands on your shoulders, they feel warm and strong. You want to open your eyes but they feel heavy.

Hearing some rustling around you and the warmth from the hands is replaced by another pair, cold and callused, they feel foreign.

“Y/N… what did you say” Madi’s voice seems close now.

Getting up seems difficult. Groaning, you open your eyes, making your body sit up first. There’s a warm sensation on your forehead so you might as well open your eyes. Bringing your hand to the sour of pain you feel the thick and slick liquid. Blood indeed.

“Y/N you’re okay?” Her voice is worried and you detect a flinch of fear in it.

You look at her and see that Octavia has her sword out and is pointing it toward Wanda, Natasha in front of her, protecting her and you feel jealous. Why in the name of Gaia happen?

Madi is the one next to you, kneeling to see if you’re okay. Taking away her hand from touching your forehead, you seek impulse with your hands on the floor and stand up. Madi assisting you quickly. You look at her and nod, indicating you’re well enough to stand on your own, but she refuses to let you go.

“I’m okay”

Yet your words don’t seem to calm any of the situation in place and when you try to go and comfort her, Madi stops you. Seeing this, Wanda tries to go to you instead but is stopped by Natasha, who sees Octavia take one step towards her.

“Care to explain to me what’s happening? None of you should be here” trying your best calming voice.

“I could ask the same Heinofi” It’s been a while since you heard Octavia this exhaled and furious.

Nothing of this makes sense. With all the pain in your head, you find another solution and think as hard as you can, to instruct Wanda, if she can hear you and is ok, to tilt her head. Suddenly you feel a pair of eyes on you, effectively meeting her eye, Wanda’s frown is in place but she tilts her head, slightly but the move is there.

“Madi?” As stern as you can you utter the words.

She hesitates for a moment, probably because she never heard you using that tone or because you know your mother will arrive soon, if not sooner with all this apparent commotion.

“I was setting with Octavia the last supplies you’ll need to use at TonDC, when we heard a loud noise coming from here. When we arrived you were crashed in the rocks bleeding from your head and Wanda was standing a few meters away, her hands clasped around her magic”

“Y/N I wasn’t” but Wanda’s interrupted by Natasha’s hand on her hand. Now you’re the one feeling like seeing red.

“Octavia got the sword out and that’s when Natasha arrived”

“Glad I came when I did, two against one didn’t seem fair”

Now that makes sense. If you were blasted by Wanda’s magic that could explain why you kept seeing red fog but, didn’t Aden say Wanda couldn’t enter your mind? Then how you could see the red, characteristic of Wanda’s magic? Was she trying to enter your mind to see if you were okay, or she was unconsciously doing it?

“Octavia, please take away your sword from my betrothed”

“Can’t do Henofi”

“Octavia. I’m not asking”

That makes Octavia turn to look at you if barely, her eyes never leaving the pair of your guests. Madi’s hold on your body is doing nothing to keep you calm.

“Y/N I don’t think you understand”

“Octavia, em pleni!” And is the stern in your voice what makes Octavia fully look at you and Madi to loosen her grip on you.

“You vowed to protect and obey me”

“I vowed to protect the commander” Out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda taking a few steps out of Natasha’s reach, her eyes although guarded have a flicker of fear in them.

“Ai laik Heda, you like it or not,” you say between teeth. Masking your pain and foggy mind.

Funny things happen when the most calm and peaceful people raise their voices and utter strength into them. Madi lets you go but Octavia has difficulty relinquishing her guard and stance. You see the anger behind her eyes and finally, she puts her sword back in her scabbard.

“Yu laik ai kru” You speak these words towards Wanda specifically but mean to extend them towards Natasha and her clan as well.

Madi and Octavia look at you.

“Oso laik wonkru” you speak to them.

Hearing you speak trigedeslang is so foreign, since you barely use it, They’re more used to hearing from other people but not you, it makes them realize what the words you spoke convey.

“You are my people. We are one clan” you say for the sake of Wanda and Natasha and to make your stance very clear.

“War is imminent”

“Sistris”

“No Madi, it is. Aden told me”

“Aden?” Madi looks at you.

You can’t even if you tried, explain everything that happened inside your head (or outside) you’re still not sure where that place was or if you’ll go again.

“What happened was an accident. I startled Wanda. We cannot be divided. Ai laik Heda ”

The air feels heavy, and the implications of what you said, especially to Octavia, linger in the air. They never have seen you like this, Madi has a newfound respect for you if her kneeling in front of you indicates it. Octavia scans you, her scowl present but kneels.

“Jomp em op en you jump ai op”

“You are right daughter” You turn to see your mothers enter. Lexa was clad in her red stash and riding attire. Clarke is wearing a green cloak, you didn’t think she will travel with you.

“Octavia, Madi, rise"

“War is imminent. Aden has spoken to us”

What?

“Come Y/N, your ascension ceremony should take place today at noon”

Clarke looks at you and her eyes carry so much weight and sorrow.

“Mom?”

She just opens her hands, the flame is nested between the metal box you dreaded to see. What you don’t take into consideration is that there are two little boxes, meaning Wanda will get chipped too.

“Y/N, a flame-keeper has not been in our clans for so many years. Times are changing and for us, it changes as well in our traditions”

“Interesting use of words, Lexa. Remind me to learn to be as political and coherent as you” Stark's voice comes out of nowhere and suddenly you see a red suit floating. It’s close to the floor but you might have imagined it, you certainly will be confused after the blast.

“Natasha, be a dear and take the second box. You have been appointed to be the flame keeper, isn’t that exciting?”

So that’s a no on Wanda chipped but wait. Natasha?'

“With due respect Heda, I will use my right to duel and challenge Duchness Romanoff for the place of the flame keeper”

You all turn to see Octavia slicing her hand in a way that allows the hand to bleed minimally. Before anyone can say anything Natasha’s raspy voice accepts it.

“Lexa?” You hear your mom speak.

And then all goes silent, the calmness you felt before is there and you don’t have to look to see that Wanda has taken your hand and has interlaced your fingers… nor do you see the red magic coming from her hands and taking you once again into darkness.

-/-/-/-/-/

Tag List: @spongebobtentacles @wandamaximoff727 @cristin-rjd @aawake-atnight @msromanoffswife @juno-verse @wandastan-2 @wannabe-fic-reader @cd-4848

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? Part 4

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.8k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

Deciding to sleep in the lounge was not only because you had grown too tired from cleaning to retreat for a bed, but also as you had given up your room so each hybrid had their own personal space. Another and more pressing reason you had slept on the couch was to perhaps talk Yoongi down from leaving. 

It was understandable he was apprehensive about the trials and after your in depth conversation he agreed to truly think the offer over before making any rash decisions. That’s all you could hope for, that he tried for the sake of himself and other hybrids in his position. The first day hadn’t gone as successful as you had hoped but you had developed a good impression with the initial three hybrids.

“The story of the fox goes back to Chinese folklore, in a book called the classics of Mountain and Sea. The book was filled with monsters and mythical creatures that roamed the earth hidden among the humans. They called the fox ‘Huli jing’ and said they had immense power,” Felix spoke quietly tucking you into bed, his silver hair shone by the faint glow of the night light in your room. 

“Some say that every ten years a fox grows a new tail, and others say when a Fox falls in love it will only have one.” He explained seeing you sitting up he pressed his finger to your forehead trying to push you to lay down, “Are you laying down, this is supposed to be a bedtime story.”

“I know but your stories are so good I don’t want to fall asleep again,” You whined but reluctantly gave way, “I am laying down, tell the story, tell the story.”

“In the mountain lived a young man, who spent his days gathering wood, food and water, one evening he wished under the moon for a wife that could love him and give him a family. The next morning he was visited by a beautiful woman, she was everything he wished for and the two fell in love. She told him she would marry him and give him a family if once a month under the full moon she could disappear down to the river and he would never follow. So he obeyed never following and the two had two children, she took the children to the river every full moon and the man started to grow curious.”

“He followed her to the river and saw her remove and wash her skin. She was not a human but a fox and their children splashing in the water were foxes too but they didn’t need to remove their skin. They were part human and were good at disguising themselves. The fox saw her husband standing there and she fled with their children never to be seen again.” Felix saw your eyes drifting and gave a low chuckle, “That will be it for tonight you have lessons in the morning.” 

Growing up in a government facility had everything a real home would, except love, you didn’t have a mother or father to care for you. But you did have a young researcher named Felix who would often visit and dote on you, giving gifts and teaching you about Hybrids. He helped you to understand that you were in fact a Hybrid even if you didn’t appear like one. Felix often told you stories, myths and legends about foxes. He made sure to never treat you like a failure, unlike the other researchers.

“Am I ever going to be allowed to leave, no one will want a hybrid who doesn’t look like a hybrid, but no one wants to deal with a human who has animal tendencies?”

“The right people will accept you when the time comes” He smiled, a knowing glint in his eye, he always looked like he was hiding something. You had a way of getting information out of everyone who worked in the facility but not Felix, he was the exception always calling you out when you tried. “They are out there, now it’s time to sleep.”

He left and after a few moments the lights in the hall switched off. The door creaked open and you shuffled over in your bed and lifted the blanket. Jimin slid under the covers and the two of you fell asleep cuddling. Everynight Jimin snuck from his room to yours if he wasn’t caught and the two of you fell asleep beside one another. His tail nervously in his hands where he would twist it gently.

“Jimin is out of bed again!” 

A head of red locks poked into the room, Felix’s eyes met yours and with a playful wink he turned to leave and you swear you saw three silver bottle brush tails trailing behind him, “They are asleep Astrid, leave them be,”

Woken by something soft brushing against your hand, you opened your eyes taking in your surroundings. That’s right you were staying in a government house, you hadn’t lived in one of these buildings since you were a teen. The buildings all smelt the same, like the same disinfectant and carpet shampoo, you were used to this even if the disinfectant made it hard to relax. It was hard to adjust to a place that smelt like nothing, everything smelt like something. 

Turning towards your hand you found Jungkook rubbing the sides of his face against your hand and letting your fingers brush over his head. It was a natural reaction cat hybrids have sweat glands in their cheeks that are filled with their scent and well when they nuzzle or rub their faces against something it transfers that scent. 

You scratched behind his ears, he stopped closing his eyes and purring happily in response and you hoped your scent would soon occupy some of the house to ease you discomfort

“Good morning Jungkook!” You greeted him, scratching more diligently behind his ears. He leaned into your touch, you assumed from his purrs that he felt safe and happy to live with you. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Uh, no” he whined a pout prominent on his lips, either he was really hungry or he was upset that you had stopped petting him. You were heading into the kitchen and starting to prepare a large breakfast. Before you had the chance to set the table there was a knock at the door. Jungkook ever so curious slinked across the room to peek out the window.

“Your friend Jimin is back and he brought two new hybrids,” Jungkook's voice died off towards the end and Seokjin stepped out his tail all messy from his sleep. Seokjin petted Jungkook’s head tired and the younger hybrid followed you to the front door.

Pulling the door open you saw Jimin dressed beautifully in a suit and with some rather beautiful make up, he was fresh from his photo shoot. “I look good huh?” He leaned in kissing your cheek and walking inside, muttering something about the smell of the government houses. 

Behind him was Kim Namjoon looking bored. He carried a small potted plant in his hands and practically stumbled up the steps but tried to play it off with a look of contempt lacing his features. He was the tallest out of all the hybrids you had met and you could see Jungkook’s wide eyes already admiring the older Hybrid. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” He took your hand and kissed your knuckles and stepped inside. Asking Jungkook to lead him to the room beside Jimin’s he nodded and led the taller feline hybrid to his room. Namjoon seemed a little taken back by Jungkook’s admiring stare.

Jung Hoseok was just full of smiles so excited to see everything the city had to offer, his eyes shone, he would be a ball of energy. His reaction to the house was just a series of loud sound effects, clapping, and giggles. You grinned greeting him with a smile. He was quick to give you a hug talking about how his previous owners had given him some food as a gift. The farm where Hoseok was born were breeders of deer and similar hybrids.

Hoseok had a kind of silly face like Jin's. He was very expressive and when he smiled you just knew he was happy. You could tell he was from the country as he was very lean and yet still muscular. He wasn’t on to shy away from hard work.

With the two new hybrids in the house you felt the tension build, especially between Seokjin the oldest, Yoongi who wasn’t one to follow someone's orders and Namjoon who thought of himself superior to the other hybrids. This was going to end badly if you didn’t step in so you did.

“I would like for you to have no fighting and as of right now I am the leader and the boss, when the time comes that you have grown accustomed to one another then we will vote who will be the leading figure. But for arguments sake I will take the leadership role do we all agree?”

“Yes, of course” Seokjin smiled, he respected your decision and also would rather not start a fight with two predatory hybrids.

“A smart decision.” Namjoon nodded watching Jimin searching for something in his bag, a familiar scent catching your attention. Yoongi smirked seemingly amused by the two hybrids who were quick to bow their heads.

“For now,” Yoongi muttered, slinking off to his room, his dark tail the last thing you saw as he turned down the hall.

“Oh, Y/nnnnn?” Jimin cooed from across the room he had a dark bag filled which from what you could smell was full of fruit, “I got you a present?”

“Blueberries?” You went to run over to inspect the bag but he held up his hand, freezing you to the spot.

“And?” he smirked, rustling the bag letting more of the fresh fruit aroma fill the air,  “What else can you smell?”

“Mulberries?” You sniffed the air stepping forward slowly, “and what is the last one?”

“Grapes and Plums” Seokjin sniffed the air coming closer, you had a bit of a laugh, at least there was someone in the house with similar taste as you. The two of you tipped the bag into a bowl and ate together, the others all enjoyed the breakfast you had made especially the grilled mackerel but you couldn’t help but notice Jimin pouting. Perhaps he didn’t like that Seokjin was enjoying the gift he had gotten for you.

“Thank you so much Jimin, these berries are my favourite and I am so proud of you for letting me share with Seokjin, as he loves them too. You are making such a good first impression, you are such a good boy” Jimin’s face flushed in response apparently he didn’t expect to be praised but you knew how much he loved words of affirmation. 

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[harrenhalyuri]

for us, the wounds kissed long before the lips

23rd of Sun's Dawn, 1E 461, Alessian Empire.

During the coronation of Emperor Gorieus, the Hortator and the head of House Dagoth steal a moment for themselves.

tags: drinking & talking; angst; one-sided relationship; attempt at worldbuilding

ao3 version here

They stumbled forward laughing and shushing one another as the heavy oak doors closed behind them - the warmth and merry of the coronation feast left behind as the two stepped out into the garden.

Nerevar recalled walking the streets of Nirnbuldihr - the cyan glow of the giant mushrooms reflecting on the windows of several shops. One in particular caught his eye, and he crossed the cobblestone sidewalk to inspect it more closely. Blown glass sculptures, colorful and intricate in the way the dwemer favored.

His favorite had been a piece hidden in the back of the window, as if outshined by more complex, elaborate pieces upfront. It had been a white glass diorama, depicting a cottage surrounded by trees swaying in the breeze - the sort of simplicity the dwemer had no interest in.

The garden reminded him of that diorama - covered in a blanket of snow, completely undisturbed by the world around it.

Voryn pulled him under the arches that covered the path to the guest wing, but the Hortator held him back.

“No, let us stay for a bit.” He answered, arm still draped around the back of his friend’s neck as he stepped on the soft snow. Voryn sighed, yet allowed Nerevar to lead him.

“Frolicking amidst the cold? Do you plan on inviting the Nords to join us?” The head of House Dagoth said snidely as he crossed his arms to warm himself.

Nerevar laughed and shoved him away.

“The snow never belonged to those s’wits, you’re simply thin-blooded from living under the shadow of a volcano.”

“Perhaps, and rightly so.”

The snow softly crunched under their boots as they wandered near a tree - now completely stripped of leaves, its gnarled branches seemed to reach towards the sky.

“It always snows in Akamora.” Nerevar inhaled deeply, enjoying how his lungs burned as he took in the crisp, cool air. “In the mountains, at least. The paths are sharp and winding, and it freezes over during winter. No caravans may come or go, not until Sun’s Dawn.”  

The Hortator grabbed a handful of snow, the ice leeching the warmth of his skin through the kagouti leather gloves. Absent-mindedly he shaped it until a white sphere rested on his palm. Secunda and Masser bore down on them - the moon glow glinting on the high windows of Skingrad’s castle.

Nerevar recalled the moon glow glinting on the tip of ice spikes, sharp enough to be spears, at the highest peak of Akamora.

Azura had come to him then, for the first time, to bestow Moon-and-Star upon the captain - his fingers had been so stiff from the cold that he could barely feel them anymore, the goddess’s touch as foreign as the ring she had slipped on his finger.

When he came down from the mountain, the first ashlanders had hailed him Hortator, and it had felt just as foreign as the ring on his finger.  

“It must be rather grim.” Voryn commented, the cyrodilic brandy swirling inside the bottle as he brought it to his lips. The distaste in his face was plain to see - it couldn’t hold a candle to the Dagoth brandy.  

Nerevar smiled, his short-lived melancholia forgotten.

“How can you say that? Short-tempered caravan masters, cheap mazte and all the comforts of a straw bed...” The captain delighted at Voryn’s growing distaste as he spoke. The head of House Dagoth was a creature of comfort and status, something that had made the duo different as the sun and the moon.    

"Lovely, I'm sure." Voryn replied with a sour expression. Nerevar laughed.

"For a researcher, you spent far too much time cocooned up in Kogoruhn." The Hortator recalled several jars containing fungi species and creatures preserved in a strong alcoholic solution, one more outlandish than the other. In his curiosity, the captain had pestered Voryn with questions until he nearly dropped one of the jars. The head of House Dagoth had snapped at him to stop before he accidentally unleashed a deadly plague and got them both killed.

That had been many years ago, before the war, when Nerevar was still seeking support from the great houses. The somber, willowy lord that had greeted him in Kogoruhn had been the first to join him - his support had been won easily, but his friendship had not.  

"And due to that, couriers are eternally indebted to House Dagoth. Why would I waste my precious time wandering through mud in a thrice-damned swamp?” The councilor huffed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Nerevar laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

“And what if your Hortator commanded you to?”

The previous distaste vanished in a second as the sharp, haughty aristocratic features softened; the ruby-colored gaze meeting his, warm as the liquor sloshing inside the bottle.

“I’d wander until time itself ceased to be if Muthsera willed so.” Despite the devotion, the lord councilor had steel in his voice; unwavering as the very core of Nirn.

Nerevar let the snow sphere fall to the ground, the reverence in those words overwhelming as he broke his gaze away, before joining the councilor on the stone bench. The orange glow of a candle reflected on the windows above; a small flickering flame moving as a servant crossed the corridor. The former captain followed it until the speckle of light vanished behind stone walls.

“I miss it.” He blurted out, seized by a deep longing as the world seemed to be reduced into that snow-covered, unperturbed garden; as if its two occupants were the only souls in Nirn.

“By the Three, how I miss it! To Oblivion with those titles and thrones and crowns; I miss the road, I miss the ache after a long day’s march and falling on the straw at night too tired to think.” Nerevar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. Azura had blessed him with the strength to carry the title of Hortator, yet he craved the simplicity of being nothing more than a captain, with no past nor future beyond the next town.

The Hortator missed walking through the crowded streets of the bazaars; the cramped food stalls with ill-tempered merchants that served meals with enough spices to burn his tongue; the shady cornerclubs where you had to watch both your tongue and your coin purse.  

Now he signed papers, spoke with lords, and followed the proper etiquette befitting his rank; he watched the streets through the high windows of his palace, as if his brethren were tiny ants. The former captain pulled his hands away and felt a tear roll down the bridge of his nose; the liquor was truly getting to his head. He placed a hand on his councilor’s knee; the several layers of red wool soft under his glove.

“Let’s leave - just the two of us and the road ahead, like it was before the war. We’ll name ourselves whatever we wish, we’ll sleep under the stars and chew on marshmerrow pieces as we travel.”

“Where shall we go, sweet Nerevar?” The young lord played along; his voice soft as a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the stillness around them.

“Wherever you desire - do you still wonder about Hammerfell? I’ll take you to see the dunes that stretch as far as the sun, you’ll study their beetles and giant scorpions for as long as you wish, then we can drink qishr and break bread with the nomads.” Nerevar found himself smiling as he recalled the heat of the desert and the loose, colorful fabrics the natives wore.

He turned around and reached for the bottle, fingers brushing against his confidant’s. Only then, Nerevar realized his councilor had forgotten his gloves inside the hall; the golden skin contrasting against the snow, the long, elegant fingers trembling with the cold.

“Oh, Voryn.” The former captain frowned, quickly pulling his own gloves off and taking hold of the other’s wrist; the scarlet nails vanishing into the supple leather as he adjusted the glove.

“Remember when you fell sick, five days after we departed Kogoruhn? We had to-” The sentence fell on deaf ears, vanishing under the branches heavy with snow as lips met his, swallowing his words with hunger. A hand connected with his chest, closing into a fist as Voryn pulled him closer; as if it weren’t enough.

Distant and haughty Voryn, who ate sparingly and never smudged the red paint he wore on his lips, bit the Hortator’s lower lip before pulling back; eyes half-lidded as he brushed the tip of his nose against Nerevar’s in a silent plea.

The ink-colored hair contrasted against the pale golden skin; the black fur collar brushing against the captain’s chin; a pale pink blooming on his cheeks, either from cold, the brandy, or something else-

Heart hammering against his ribcage, blood drumming on his ears; it was the slightest tilt of his face that thrice-damned him as Voryn’s lips smashed against his; a devotion he was unworthy of every time their tongues met; muffled prayers in form of sighs and whimpers.  

Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy. A voice whispered in his mind, taunting him; in his mind’s eye he saw peach-colored lips curled in derision, teeth bared like a wolf’s. Almalexia’s snarl.

Somewhere, a door groaned open and the sounds of the feast reached the garden, shattering their sanctuary; the weight of being Hortator came crashing down on his shoulders. Nerevar pulled back as if he had been burned, his palm on the young lord’s shoulder firmly holding the other back. He looked down, unable to face the confusion, the longing. Too much, it was too much. His hair was disheveled, pale strands falling against his face and he felt grateful for the cover.

“Nerevar-” The head of House Dagoth began, voice hoarse and breathless.

“Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, I’ve wanted-”

“It was a mistake.”

“Oh.” Voryn inhaled sharply as if his lungs had suddenly been emptied.

“I’ve...I drank more than I should have. We both have.” His words feel hollow, and he can no longer tell if the bitter taste on his tongue belonged to the brandy, or the shame. The silence stretched; neither dared to move.

“I see.” His voice is flat, devoid of emotion; the usual aloofness reserved for others. Out of the corner of his eye, Nerevar watched him straighten his posture; the dark hair falling like a curtain, obscuring half of his face.  

Other guests left the feast; their chatter and laughter permeated the garden as they walked down the path to the other wing of the castle. Nerevar felt the red gaze pinned to his back, yet no words left his lips. He watched the snow under his boots; watery and muddy as it mixed with the dirt below.

At last, he heard the rustling of fabric as Voryn rose to his feet; impeccable posture as he towered over the Hortator.

“May this servant be excused, Muthsera?” The words rolled easily off his tongue; the sharp formality of it made Nerevar wince.

The Hortator forced himself to lift his head and face his long-time friend; clad in red wool and black fur, the snowflakes melting on the long, inky hair; the blank expression betraying nothing, except for his lips; the red paint had been smudged, contorting their shape.

“Yes.”

From the cradle, the heir of House Dagoth had been taught the games of persuasion and deceit; a master in concealing his thoughts behind a mask.

Nerevar took a hollow, cowardly comfort in it.

Voryn Dagoth bowed before him, as etiquette mandated, before vanishing into the corridor; the sound of his footsteps hammering inside the Hortator’s head until they vanished, leaving him with nothing but a headache and the cold.

After finishing the bottle by himself, the former captain laid in bed, watching the moons slowly crossing the sky through the windows; his dreams haunted by both his closest friend and his wife; one seeming to shift into the other as they pinned him against the sheets; ever-hungry as they sought out his lips.

It was late morning when he rose; mouth dry and head throbbing like it had been split open with an axe. The hearth had been tended to recently, the fire crackling as it consumed the logs. He turned in bed, still wrapped around the sheets.

Voryn will understand, he understands the importance of duty better than anyone. He reasoned with himself.

A single kagouti glove on the floor, as if someone had pushed it under the door.

Across the hallway, a lord painted his lips red; immaculately framing the natural shape of his lips. His unbalanced emotions shattered the mirror into a thousand pieces when his fingers trembled for a second and a smudge appeared.

Duty, he’s devoted to duty, the lord repeated mentally, as he collected the shards.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Midnight Adventures–Zac Efron

Zac's been across the sea filming his Down To Earth episodes. We haven't had much communication. A few crappy service Facetimes, slow text messages, and rare emails were all we had. In every email I got from him, he promised to call me when he was on his way home.

Zac and I met while filming Neighbors. He was Teddy and I was someone in the background. The first day we met, he had accidentally bumped into me, almost knocking me down. He caught me and from that day on, things changed.

We started going to lunch together, hanging out on the weekend, and constantly texting. After the movie came out, we kept getting lunch together, hanging out on the weekend, and constantly texting. It was just a friendship, but a lot of people thought it was more.

I got back from my run to see a voicemail from Zac. As I got my things together to shower, I listened to the message.

"Hey, Y/N," Zac's voice came through the message. "You told me to call you and let you know that I made it home safe. Well, I made it home!"

My heart skipped a beat when I heard him laugh. "We aren't home-home. We're at the airport."

Suddenly, there was an awkward silence on the line. I heard Zac sigh and clear his throat.

"I know it's late, but can I come by? I really need. . . want to see you," he quickly corrected. "These past few months, I've been feeling a little weird. I don't know. I'm not. . . It seems like. . . I haven't been that. . . I don't really know how to explain it. All I know is that I really need to see you, Y/N."

When the message ended, I slowly pulled my phone away from my ear. Zac left me that message 40 minutes ago. I tried texting him, but he hasn't responded. I replayed his message, the tone and shakiness of his voice making me nervous. When the third call went to voicemail and the twelfth text went unanswered, I gave up and decided to shower.

                                * * * * *

I hung up my towel before walking out of my bathroom. As soon as I stepped into my bedroom, I heard a soft knock. I looked over, holding in a laugh when I saw Zac on my balcony. I walked over and opened the door, leaning against the doorframe.

"I'm surprised you're here, Troy," I teased. "Don't you have early practice tomorrow before school?"

"Ha-ha," he fake laughed. "No 'Welcome Home, Zac' or 'I've missed you, best friend'? Not even a hug. Straight to the insults."

"How else are we supposed to act?" I joked.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around me. I felt him slightly relax into my arms.

"I've missed you," he whispered.

"I've missed you too."

I pulled out of the hug and froze. It was then that I realized what he was wearing. I bit my lip as I playfully hit one of the balls.

"What is on your head?" I asked, trying to hold in my laughter.

"I got it in Coast Rica," he said, playing with the pieces hanging down.

"It's very fashionable," I said, struggling to hold in my laughter. He sent me a glare before breaking.

"Let's go," he said, still laughing.

"Go where?"

"On an adventure," he said like it was obvious.

"I don't know what time it is in Costa Rica, but here it's past midnight."

"And?" He shrugged. I opened my mouth to say no, but he cut me off. "Fortune never smiles on those who say no."

                                   * * * * *

As we drove in Zac's car, I noticed him oddly awake. I looked over and saw him eagerly bouncing his knee.

"I see the jetlag is still in the works," I smirked.

Zac looked over at me and sent me a playful wink. He turned his attention back to the road as we kept going. A few minutes later, I found myself struggling to stay awake.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I sighed, leaning my head on the headrest.

He glanced over at me, his eyes softening when he saw the tired look in my eyes. He reached over and grabbed my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers.

"I know it's late," he said, his voice dropping as he turned back to the road. "And I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you."

I didn't push him any further on the subject. I forced myself to sit up in hopes of staying awake. Zac didn't let go of my hand the rest of the way. I looked over at him confused when we pulled up to a hiking trail.

"Umm. . . Zac?"

"Yeah?" He said, turning towards me.

"Isn't there like. . . Doesn't hiking trails close when it gets dark?"

"Most do," he laughed as he got out of the car.

I stayed in the car as he got out and jogged to my side. He grabbed my hand and helped me out of the car. He kept my hand in his as we looked at the path.

"I did some research and this hiking trail is well lit," he started to explain. "It's known for late-night hikes. People take this trail when they want to hike under a sky of stars."

"But. . ."

"Y/N," he said, turning towards me when he sensed my nerves. "This is completely safe, I promise. I wouldn't take you somewhere you could get hurt."

I took a shaky breath that Zac responded to by squeezing my hand. "Besides," he whispered, "we aren't going to get separated."

"What if. . ."

"I won't let us," he quickly interrupted me. "I promise, Y/N, I'll be right by your side the entire time."

"Okay," I sighed, still a little nervous.

Just like Zac promised, he was by my side the entire hike. In fact, he never let go of my hand. When we got to the top of the trail, it was worth the midnight hike.

"Wow," I whispered when I saw the view. There was something both beautiful and eerie about the city at night. Only a few lights were on and the moon lit the rest.

"I know," Zac chuckled.

He tightened his grip on my hand, slightly pulling me closer to him. After a few beats of silence, I finally asked him the question that's been bouncing around my head since he showed up at my place.

"Can I ask you something?" I hesitated.

"Of course," Zac laughed. His smile fell when he saw me wrapping my arms tightly around myself. He quickly took off his zip-up and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"Thanks," I whispered. He smiled as he zipped it up.

"So," he cleared his throat. "You had a question for me?"

"Yeah," I stuttered. "Why did you knock on my balcony door at midnight and ask me to go on an adventure?"

"I missed you," he shrugged.

"If you missed me, you could've come over in the morning. Not at midnight as soon as you got off the plane. What's going on?"

"I wanted to take my best friend on an adventure. What's wrong with that?" He laughed.

"You left me this weird message before you got on the plane and then showed up at my place, begging to take me on a midnight adventure. That isn't normal, Zac. You've been gone three months filming and. . ."

I gasped as he cut me off and pressed his lips to mine. Once the shock wore off, I started to kiss him back. The kiss was soft, slow, and almost hesitant.

Zac slowly broke the kiss, leaning back so he could see my expression. Our breathing matched as we tried to get it under control. I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to figure out what to say. Thankfully, Zac spoke up first.

"The reason I needed to see you when I got home was because I missed you," he whispered. "But not the normal amount. I spent every day the last few months, wishing you were with me. The show was amazing and I had some incredible experiences but they would've been better if you were there to experience them with me. The more I missed you, the more I realized why."

Instead of continuing, Zac leaned in and pressed his lips back to mine. Our lips immediately started moving in sync as we stood at the top of the trail, looking over the sleeping city. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on mine.

"Why did you miss me so much?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Zac chuckled as he leaned back and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

"Because I'm in love with you."

The way he said it was so simple, it felt like it was something we both should've known for a long time.

"You're in love with me," I slowly repeated. He smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek.

"Yes, I am." He said firmly. His smile slightly fell as he let go of my cheek. "I don't know when things changed, but I know they did. I hope I didn't ruin our friendship by doing this or. . ."

I cut him off by standing on my toes and pressing my lips to his. I felt him smile against my lips as he started kissing me back. I let out a small moan as he tightened his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest.

I slowly slid my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. I giggled into the kiss as he picked me up. We broke the kiss, Zac still holding me up.

We stared into each other's eyes as we caught our breath. Zac slowly put me down but didn't let me go.

"I'm in love with you."

"You're in love with me?" He repeated. I smiled at the smirk on his face.

"I guess so," I whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

Once we broke the kiss, we decided to head home. We walked back down the trail the same way we did on the way up, hand-in-hand, but it was different.

When we got to his car, I smiled as he held the door open for me. We headed home, the only sound coming from the radio. I smiled when he reached over and grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. Right as I was about to fall asleep, I heard Zac whisper something.

"See? It wasn't a bad midnight adventure."

[misora-msby]

花火 | chapter one : moon

花火 (fireworks) | chapter one : moon

themes / warnings: medieval japan au (sengoku era), supernatural au, death, fluff, angst

pairing: kitsune!suna x fem!reader

word count: 7.0k

notes: part one of a series! it’s not 100% accurate to shintoism and japanese folklore but i did my best to research it and change as little as possible! still, i hope you enjoy this and stick around for the next parts too!

edit from the future : part two can be found here

Rintarou doesn’t remember how he became a kitsune spirit. 

It was just that one summer day he found himself sleeping in front of a manmade structure (a shrine to the god Inari as he would later learn) with a boy of preteen age standing over him. 

That boy, Shinsuke, would teach him and two other foxes, Atsumu and Osamu, how to do their jobs - protecting the priests, priestesses, and shrine maidens living nearby, and delivering the prayers of visitors to the god. It wasn’t an overly difficult job though, and more often than not, Rintarou found himself either running around the shrine grounds with the other two or sleeping in a comfortable spot he found. 

A few years later, the three of them even gained the ability to shapeshift into humans. They were completely amused with how similar Atsumu and Osamu looked, and how Suna’s eyes looked almost the exact same as his fox form, though it greatly upset them that their human forms were much shorter and younger than that of Shinsuke’s. He had to reassure them that someday they were likely to grow to his height or even taller. 

It was just a matter of time, similar to how they had to wait to become strong enough to become human.

Time, Rintarou would eventually learn, was rarely ever on his side.

It was a perfect day for a nap on the roof; a cooling wind blew through the air, preventing Rintarou’s robes from sticking to his skin. The sky was cloudy enough to block out the sun while not being abundant enough to make him worry about a sudden downpour, and the sweet scent of flowers blooming filled the air. Though there weren’t many bouquets in the area, a fox’s strong sense of smell could detect the scent of wisterias carried on the wind. 

After a bit of twisting and turning to find the perfect position to sleep in, Rintarou was woken by the sound of footsteps and chatter. Shuffling to the edge of the roof, he narrowed his eyes upon seeing a family of six walking in. 

“Today, your mom and dad are going to teach you how to pray. We want to pray for your mom and new sibling, okay?” a man spoke to the children who replied with a chorus of “Yes”s. 

“Ah,” Rintarou remembered, “Inari-sama is the god of so many things… Foxes, rice, sake, fertility, agriculture… Why couldn’t they give some of the work to the other gods… we have so much work to do.” 

He figured he might as well do his job while the other three were doing other jobs around or out of the grounds and began to inspect them carefully. Fortunately there were no malicious spirits attached to them, nor could he sense any by the red torii gates at the foot of the mountain slope on which the shrine resided. 

But as Rintarou inspected them from atop the rooftop, he noticed the youngest child of the family, the only daughter, was rather pretty. She looked to be about his age, though he knew she had obviously seen far fewer winters than he had due to the way time progressed for him as a spirit. 

Dressed in a red kimono with her hair just reaching her shoulders in a simple bob like most girls her age, he thought she was the prettiest girl who had ever come to the shrine. He couldn’t understand why his stomach suddenly felt funny, like it was jumping around inside his body. 

Suddenly, their eyes met and that feeling spread to more parts than just his stomach. Big glossy eyes stared up at him in awe while his own fox-like eyes widened. An awfully warm feeling came to his cheeks and the boy quickly scampered away from the edge of the roof, towards the back of the building where they wouldn’t be able to see him. 

Rintarou sat still for a moment, knees to his chest. He took in deep breaths while keeping his cool hands pressed to his cheek and chest. Was she a malevolent spirit?! He thought that could be the only reason for nearly every part of his body to be tingling and causing his heart to want to jump out from his throat. 

And yet he wanted to keep his gaze upon her. To look once again into those bright eyes and to memorise her pretty form. 

He decided to do just that. 

With graceful steps, Rintarou hopped off of the roof and onto the stone tiles. His feet made no sound as he ran over to hide behind a tree and watched as the family made their prayers. He watched as she reached up, struggling to drop her coin into the offering box while his dainty but pudgy fingers gripping onto the bark tightly to prevent himself from running forward and tossing it in for her. 

But surely an evil spirit wouldn’t go through that trouble with praying right? She had to be a regular human. Even the head priest was smiling at the entire family. But he still couldn’t understand why she gave him such a funny feeling. 

Before he could be spotted again, he ran off into the forest to avoid her gaze which caused all these problems in him in the first place. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

A few moons had passed, the cool breeze had become warmer and the pink petals floating in the wind had been replaced by green leaves. The song of young animals had also left, the nights now being filled with the loud croaking of cicadas and the much quieter buzzing of fireflies. The air had become thicker and warmer too, which wasn’t quite something Rintarou enjoyed. But what he did enjoy was the festival occurring tonight. 

Every year the humans would hold an extra special festival in the summer and launch fireworks. Though he didn’t care too much for the spirits of humans, aside from that one girl who he had never seen again since, he did care for their aesthetics. Whether it was the pattern on the fabric of a woman’s kimono, or the design in the pendants and amulets that humans wore around their necks or held in their pockets, he thought they were all rather fascinating. But as much as he wanted to go down and look carefully in person in his human form, hiding his tail was still too difficult for him in the sea of humans, and even if he tried to make himself invisible, children were so painfully receptive to spirits that he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. 

Strangely, he could hide his ears if he wished. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that their tails were directly representative of their level of power so they were harder to hide.

As he sat atop a lone rock in the forest, he could smell the scent of hot snacks wafting up the mountain. Perhaps he’d make an appearance as a fox and hope that some kind humans would give him and Osamu some snacks. They always loved to treat the three little foxes running around the shrine. He was lucky he still only had one tail, otherwise it would gain many stares. He guessed that must be a problem for someone like Shinsuke-senpai who already had three tails.

Rintarou hopped off of his rock, ready to head down and check over the festival with his friends, when he heard sobbing from somewhere in the forest. 

With the way the orange sun had already gone to sleep, he knew that he had to look for the source of the sound. He was meant to be a zenko after all, a celestial fox associated with the god Inari. So while he wanted to just go down and have fun with his friends, he had to first attend to this matter.

Using the speed granted to him, it didn’t take long for him to locate the source. His senses were too strong to not be able to. 

What he found was someone who he had never expected to see again.

“You…” the word left him in a near gasp.

You were the girl from a few months ago, crouching under a tree and sobbing. Your hair had grown a bit longer and this time you wore a light pink yukata with a dark pink obi. The eyes that had captivated him so easily last time were now red and puffy as your little hands rubbed at them to rid them of the tears which poured.

Rintarou crouched in front of you who hadn’t noticed him amongst your crying. “Why are you crying?” he asked in his quiet voice.

You looked up and gasped before quickly wiping away your tears and snot.

“I- I was playing hide and seek with my onii-chans… but it’s been so long and it’s scary and then I fell down and it hurts…” your shaky voice hiccuped as you revealed your scratched up and dirty palms. Looking carefully, Rintarou realised the front of your yukata was dirty too. 

“Oh… Should we go find them?” he asked.

You shook your head quickly, “I don’t wanna go to them! Then I’ll lose!” 

Rintarou pursed his lips slightly, wondering why you wouldn’t want to be found when you were injured. Was hide and seek that important to human children? He had played it a couple of times with the twins but it was merely a way to pass time to them. 

“Then… do you want to fix your hands?” he asked. 

You replied with a nod, your sniffling ceasing. 

In reply, Rintarou untied the inro from the obi on his hip, a small container made of lacquered paper in which he kept healing salve, cloth, (and a snack or two) in the case of an emergency. 

“Show me your hands.” he said, to which you obeyed and held out your dirty hands. The kitsune carefully took your hands and began cleaning them off with a cloth, taking note of how warm you were. 

“Your hands are cold, are you sick?” you asked. 

Rintarou looked up at you for a moment, wondering how he should reply. He knew it had something to do with him being a spirit, but he didn’t want to say that. “I’ve always been cold.” he simply said and applied the salve to your skin. After wrapping them up in a new strip of cloth, he tied the inro back together and hung it on his hip again. 

“Wow, thank you…?” You exclaimed before trailing off as you realised you didn’t know his name.

The kitsune narrowed his eyes, not understanding you. After all, he had lived the past few decades around the same few people and had no reason to give his name.

“Um… what’s your name?” you finally asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Oh… Rintarou,” he said upon finally understanding.

“I’m (Y/N). Thank you for fixing my hand, Rintarou-kun! It already feels better!” you grinned and squeezed his hands to show you were already regaining your strength.

Though upon hearing his name from your lips and coming to the realisation that he had been holding your hands for so long, a blush crept up his cheeks. His eyes widened for a second though they quickly returned to fit his near emotionless state. “It’s nothing,” he quickly said, looking to the side to avoid your gaze, “Anyways, what do you want to do now? You don’t want to go find your brothers yet, right.”

You thought for a moment before asking, “Do you want to play together?”

“Play?”

“Yeah. We can go to the festival!”

At that, Rintarou immediately shook his head, “I don’t like crowds.” It was a lie, he couldn’t care less about crowds if he were in his fox form but if he had to stay a human, he couldn’t bear to spend so much energy in hiding his tail which still had a chance of being seen.

“Then… what do you want to do?” you asked, pouting slightly. 

He thought for a moment. What could you two do? 

Then he sniffed the air. There was the smell of a match being lit but the absence of incense. His sensitive ears could also hear the sound of people gathering and shuffling about in anticipation.

“Come with me, I’ll show you something cool.” He took you by the wrist and you two ran side by side into the forest. Though he had to annoyingly slow his pace for you, you both managed to reach his intended destination in time:

A small glade in the middle of the forest where he assumed a ritual must have taken place decades ago. It was surrounded by purple wisteria trees, as if they created a natural veil to this secret world where fireflies floated on the grass surrounding a single tall boulder. The sounds of the festival were far away now, Rintarou was certain that his guest could no longer hear them with how far up the mountain they were. 

“Quickly, climb up the rock.” He helped push you up the rock, slightly polished yet rough from years of rain and animals scratching upon it. The fireflies in the vicinity had become startled and gathered at the fringes of the glade instead of around the rock, but he figured it was a consequence that came with bringing a human for once to his secret place. Once he had confirmed you had a stable seat, he jumped up and took a seat beside you. 

“What are we doing here, Rintarou?” you asked curiously.

“Wait a bit… there.” He pointed up at the sky where a flower of red and yellow burst among the stars. The loud bang followed two seconds later, making the girl beside him almost jump in fright before becoming entranced at the sight of more fireworks following the first to bloom in the sky.

Reds, yellows, pinks, oranges, whatever colour you named could be found in the starry sky. Bursting and blooming with brilliance, providing just a fleeting amount of beauty before wilting just like a flower whose time had come to be picked from the garden. 

If you asked Rintarou yesterday what the most beautiful sight was, he would have said that it was sitting alone on his favourite rock while the wind blew on a spring day, watching the clouds swim by while joined by floating wisteria petals. It was a sight he spent every day of spring trying to recreate. But if you asked him today what he thought the most beautiful sight was, he surely would have said it was this very moment; sitting beside the only human who he had ever talked to, and who had caused him to feel absolutely captivated, watching the quickly disappearing and reappearing garden in the night sky.

However, all good things had to come to an end, and before he knew it, the night had been filled with a deafening silence, and the sky had become nearly pitch black with the new clouds of smoke.

“I think it’s time to go back,” he stood up to face you, “You definitely won the hide and seek game if you’ve been missing for this long.” 

You nodded in reply and carefully scrambled down the rock, landing on the grass with a soft “oof”. Rintarou jumped down, landing with barely any sound before holding out his hand. “Let’s go,” he said and took your hand as you two carefully walked through the forest.

Though it was dark and late at night, the bright moon was kind enough to allow you to not trip over your own feet as he led you down the path to the shrine which he had already memorised with ease.

“Can we come back here next year?” you asked while squeezing Rintarou’s hand, “It was really pretty.”

“Next year? Sure. Actually, I live at the shrine so you can come visit any time.” He didn’t know why he just said that. He never really talked to people, so why did he want to do this now?

“Okay! I’ll see you then!” you grinned, and Rintarou gave the slightest hint of a smile back.

“(Y/N)! There you are!” a woman cried the moment the two had stepped foot onto the stone shrine floors, running over to give her daughter a great big hug. “We were looking for you all over! Don’t go missing like that!” she sobbed, stroking her hair and dusting off the dirt from her clothes. 

“Sorry, mama. I was playing hide and seek with nii-chan.” you mumbled, allowing your mother to straighten up your looks.

“I know, he told me. But don’t hide in the forest, ok? It’s dangerous and dark and you never know what might be- Oh dear, what happened to your hands?!” the woman asked, inspecting the bandages.

“I fell down and Rintarou put medicine for me! Rintarou, do you wanna-” you turned to wave the boy over but found he was no longer there. “Huh?”

Right then, a shrine maiden hurried over. “Oh! (L/N)-san, I’m glad you managed to find your daughter!” she smiled.

“Onee-san, where’s Rintarou?” The shrine maiden cocked her head at the question from the little girl.

“Rintarou? I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about…” she replied in confusion.

“Eh… but he said he lives here! Um… he’s like… just a bit taller than me, and he has black, no, dark brown hair. Oh, and his eyes are yellow and like… they look like a fox!” Despite your explanations, the shrine maiden still had difficulty in knowing the identity of this person until an idea popped into her mind.

“Since this is a shrine to the god Inari, do you think you met a kitsune spirit?” she asked, “Though kitsunes rarely appear as young boys, there is the possibility.” The young girl gasped and thought for a second.

“Maybe…” you glanced back at the trees before turning to your mother. “I’m sleepy…”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you home, dear.” The woman held her daughter’s bandaged hand and waved goodbye to the shrine maiden before turning to head down the stairs of the shrine and to go back to the main festival.

While this happened, Rintarou had watched it all from behind a large tree trunk, just out of sight. His heart felt funny and he wished you didn’t have to go. Even if you said you would come back, he wished you didn’t leave in the first place. 

“Hey, Rin! Where were ya? We waited for so long next to the okonomiyaki stall!” Atsumu’s boisterous voice spoke, nearly frightening the boy who had been so deep in his thoughts. 

“There was a human lost in the forest so I had to help them,” he replied in his usual calm voice.

“Ya never miss the chance to walk with us in the festival though.” Osamu pointed out while taking a bite from one of the many toriniku sticks he held. Rintarou stiffened slightly, knowing that he was right.

“She was hurt.”

“‘She’?! A girl? Yer kiddin’ me, did ya get a girlfriend, Rin Rin?!” Atsumu grabbed his friend’s shoulders tightly.

“Nothing of that sort…” Rintarou replied though his cheeks turned pink.

“Maybe,” he realised, “maybe my feelings towards you are in that sort of way…”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Ever since your first meeting that summer, you would visit rather often. Most of the time was either spent idly walking in the forest while talking about various topics, or laying on the grass of the clearing while watching the clouds pass.

Many moons passed and Rintarou was starting to despise the time he would have to see you walk down the road from the shrine, back to your family’s house in the village at the foot of the mountain. Oh if only there were a way to keep you with him forever, he wished. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps on dirt approaching him. 

“Rintarou! Over here!” the voice he had missed so dearly spoke up. He jolted out of his thoughts and almost fell out of the tree he sat in, but he quickly regained his composure and hopped down.

“(Y/N), you surprised me.” he asked nonchalantly, as if being alone with you didn’t make his heart feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest.

“Really?! That’s a first!” you giggled before squinting your eyes at the top of his head. The kitsune became worried, were his ears visible? Even though you two had been friends for almost a year now, he still hadn’t told you of him being a spiritual creature. He was worried that you would become scared and that you would never talk to him again. 

Though those fears were dismissed for now as you began to grin cheekily, “Heh, looks like I’m taller than you now!” 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes and stood up straight so your heights matched. “No we’re not, I was just slouching.”

“You’re always slouching!” 

“Am not.”

“Are too!” 

“Whatever you say. Don’t you have prayers to do? I’ll de- I’ll wait for you to finish,” he asked, rather relieved that he didn’t accidentally admit that he would deliver your prayers to Inari.

“Mm… I’ll pray later! I wanted to play with you right now!” you spoke, pleasantly surprising the young kitsune. “And I wanted to check something…” 

Rintarou’s eyes widened in a mix of fear and shock as a hand suddenly lunged to his side before he felt dainty fingers stroke the fur of his tail. A flame burst from the tail in reaction to the surprise, and he could feel his stomach plummet to hell when he saw the look on your face.

You knew.

Instinctively, he jumped back about three metres, his body sliding on the dirt. His hands made contact with the ground, his lengthening nails digging into the soft soil. Unknowingly, his golden eyes turned a shade of vermillion while large brown ears sprouted from his head, no longer invisible, and his tail waved menacingly behind him. If it weren’t for the human form he still had, one would have thought he was a fox preparing to attack.

It was then that he realised that your body had begun to shake. Your hands trembled in fear and your eyes were watery. There was a light thud as your knees buckled and you fell to the floor, face pale as a sheet. 

What had he done?

Rintarou quickly relaxed his body and stood up, embarrassed. His eyes faded back to their usual golden colour and his long nails returned to their usual length. Seeing no reason to hide his tail or ears, he kept them in view. 

“Why?” he asked softly. 

“I- I didn’t actually...“ Words couldn’t leave you, they only stumbled out from your shaking lips. You were still frozen on the floor. 

“Now you know. And you’re scared.” he mumbled. 

Oh Inari-sama, why did he have to fall for her? 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Rintarou spoke and reached a hand out, hoping you would take it and stand up like you had on that summer night.

But you only flinched. 

Seeing that, he knew your friendship had changed. 

Rintarou turned around, his tail swishing with his movement before he sprinted off into the wood, fists clenched tightly in frustration. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It had been three hours or so. Perhaps he could return to the shrine now, he thought. You must’ve finally gotten up and went home. 

He had fully exposed himself right then and though he wished he hadn’t, he knew he couldn’t change it. All he could do was sit on the rock and wish to visit that night once again. 

“Rintarou.” 

Shinsuke’s voice, albeit calm, had never sounded scarier to the younger kitsune. 

“That girl has been waiting for ya.” 

“You don’t know that. She’s probably gone home.” 

“She has not. (Y/N) has been sittin’ on the shrine stairs for two hours now, waitin’ either for you or for the sun to set.” Rintarou was surprised to hear that from Shinsuke. Especially since he had never mentioned your name to the other kitsune before. 

“And judging by the time,” Shinsuke started, “Ya better hurry. She’s got some things to say that I think’d sound better from her mouth than from this senpai.” 

With a nod, Rintarou immediately sprung to his feet and took off down the mountain, letting both gravity and his desire to talk carry him with a speed he hadn’t felt before. He came to a screeching halt as he came out of the woods, seeing you sitting on the stone stairs while fiddling with your little drawstring bag. 

“(Y/N),” he called out, making you jump slightly in surprise to see him again. 

You quickly stood up and began to apologise, “Rintarou, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that and I know I should’ve asked but if I did then I know you’d say you weren’t a kitsune. It’s just that I’ve been suspecting since last year but was always too nervous to ask and I know it was really stupid of-”

“Wait a second.”

The phrase made the avalanche of words stop immediately. 

“You knew?”

“Well… yeah,” you admitted, “I saw your tail a couple of times and sometimes you jump really high, or jump from a high place and you’re fine. And you always make sure I don’t see your back, I guess because of your tail.”

Well. Rintarou hadn’t realised how many mistakes he had been making. 

“I see… You don’t hate me or anything?”

“No way!” you spoke with a big smile. “I think it’s so cool! I’m friends with a kitsune. That’s just... woah!” you waved your hands exaggeratedly to show your emotions which you couldn’t put into words.

“I always thought you’d be scared so I didn’t say anything.” Rintarou admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His cheeks had become a dark shade of pink now. 

“Mm, I wouldn’t be scared of you. You’re nice to me, and you’re a zenko so you wouldn’t do anything bad. The thing just now scared me a bit though, but I know that was because I suddenly touched you when I shouldn’t have.” 

There was a pause as you two thought for a while, figuring out what to say next. 

“Then… can we still be friends?” the kitsune asked shyly, his heart beating with joy to know he hadn’t lost his friend and the girl he had feelings for. 

“Of course.” 

The two of you smiled toothily at each other as the sun began its descent. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

“Rin, let’s go to the rock again today!”

“Mm, sure.” 

The summer festival had come again, marking one year since the day you two properly spoke. To Rintarou, it felt unbelievably short and long. Because of the way you visited almost daily, it felt like you had been an integral part of his life. Days you didn’t come to the shrine were spent lazily running around the forest with the twins or acting as Inari’s messenger while thinking about the next day you were meant to come. Yet knowing that you had only been there for one winter of his life versus the many he had experienced made him realise how short of a time you had been there for.

It was funny to think despite the relatively short time he spent with you, he felt like you were the most important thing to him these days. 

So even though he would have to miss another year of the summer festival, he didn’t mind spending it with just you in quiet instead. 

Light footsteps made their way through the forest, the loud laughs and shouts from the crowd below shrinking until they were no more than far off echoes. The path was no longer lit by the warm yellow festival lights from below but rather by the stars and moonlight.

“It’s just as pretty as last year,” you hummed, admiring the fireflies as you pushed back the flowers of the wisteria tree to enter the glade. While you had both visited this place often on your many visits to the shrine, you always had to go back before dark, so this was the rarest sight for you.

After climbing up the rock with ease, an experience you had gotten very used to after multiple times, you waited for Rintarou to jump up before settling yourself comfortably.

“Oh! I bought these before coming up!” you pulled out two small paper packages from your kinchaku, a small drawstring bag your mother made for you with flower-patterned cloth, and unwrapped them. In the first were four pieces of daifuku, and in the other were six small pieces of warabimochi. “I thought we might get hungry!” 

Rintarou smiled and quickly picked a piece of warabimochi before tossing it into his mouth. It bounced on the edge of his lip before entering though, causing the roasted flour to form a little cloud, making a small mess on his face. You giggled at the sight of him coughing a little on the confection. The thought that even yokais like him could be dorky and mess up amused you greatly.

The evening passed quickly, far too quickly for either of your likings. As the moon and stars took their position in the dark blanket above, you two laughed and ate your snacks. It wasn’t the most filling but you two felt happy enough just talking to each other. 

Though your laughter eventually died as the topic of what you were doing tomorrow came up. The once bright smile on your face faded and your gaze couldn’t meet Rintarou’s. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He asked, “Do you want to go to get more food?” 

“My um… my parents said I can’t come back to play anymore. They said it’s no good to simply talk with boys anymore. And I have to start studying.” Your voice was soft, the topic scaring you, but the kitsune could easily pick it up. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“They said I’m growing older and someday I have to be married. Before that I have to learn to cook and do a bunch of tasks to run the household and well… They say the war’s gonna reach us soon and my family has a little land but we aren’t super influential so it’s especially important I marry someone good.” 

He had heard of the war. A few domains away the territories were being fought over by some big warlords and while he didn’t know the details, he remembered Shinsuke saying it would likely change the course of history. 

But to think that would affect you who were merely a child. You had only turned 10 this year… the thought confused and saddened Rintarou. 

“They said I have to prepare properly to become a woman,” you explained, “So I can’t waste my time running around a forest with a boy from the shrine.”

“You’re getting married?” he asked. Why did he want to know that more than anything else you mentioned?

“Huh? No no! I’m just preparing to. But I really don’t want to. I hate it so much. I won’t get to see you in forever, Rin!” Tears came to your eyes as you threw your arms around his shoulders. 

The boy awkwardly wrapped his arms around your body and patted your back, letting you cry onto his jinbei. He just had no idea what to say, what was right to say, or what you wanted to hear. Even if he had surpassed you in years he had lived long ago, his mental age was roughly the same as yours if not younger.

“We’ll see each other again, I’m sure,” was the only thing he could think to say right now, “Even if it’ll be a while.”

You sniffed and looked up from his shoulder. Your eyes met, staring at each other in silence.

“Really?” your voice squeaked, body still tense until Rintarou gently stroked your hair. Strangely your body immediately untensed and you felt at ease. Maybe it was a power of his, though you were sure it was just him.

“Yeah. I promise.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever even get to come back.”

Rintarou thought for a moment, what could he say? He was never that great with words. 

“If you’re lonely then… look at the moon. And the sky. I’ll be looking at it too, just like we always do.” he replied, cheeks turning just a bit pink. He was glad you couldn’t see his face right now. It sounded funny, but he remembered hearing something like that from a storyteller at one of the summer festivals.

You seemed a bit hesitant at first but eventually you smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that, Rin.”

He let go of you just as the fireworks began to burst in the sky, prompting you to do the same. The two of you turned your gazes to the sky to watch the performance in the sky just as you had one year ago.

But this time, he noticed that your hand rested on top of his and your head was on his shoulder.

He never wanted this night to end.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Rintarou thought about that night often.

Even if nearly seven summers had passed and he had not seen you once.

He wondered if he would ever see you again, he wanted to see you again. You were someone he could never forget so he hoped you hadn’t forgotten him too.

He wondered where you were, maybe you had moved to a different village and visited a different shrine. Maybe you were living as a servant in that new shogun’s castle. Maybe because of the war you had…

Rintarou shook his head, that couldn’t be the case. He refused to believe it. He just hoped you were okay wherever you were.

As he sat on his rock, gazing up at the sky once again in hopes of today being the day you would return, he sighed to himself. The shrine was being quite noisy these days and he couldn’t be bothered to be around all the sound so he had stayed away. There was some sort of event they were preparing for, he wasn’t sure what exactly but he didn’t care that much. He’d deal with the prayers and such afterwards.

Until he sniffed the air and smelled your familiar scent.

Rintarou had never sat up straighter before practically propelling himself off of the rock to run down to the shrine.

He would finally get to see you again! He wondered if you had grown much taller than him in the years, as he hadn’t grown all that much since that summer day. He cursed his slow growth as a kitsune but in truth it didn’t bother him that much. Though he wondered if you had matured a lot and if you would still be willing to run around in the forest with him. You probably would, right? Just for fun? Rintarou would even slow down if you wished, so you would, right?

His heart was racing as he sprinted down the mountain slope towards the shrine before coming to an abrupt halt. 

A wedding ceremony...

And you were the bride?

Even if you looked completely different, wearing a pure white shiromuku while your hair was done up and hidden in the white wataboshi veil, he could still tell it was you. Even with the heavy makeup on your now matured face, he knew it was you.

Rintarou felt his guts want to simultaneously drop out from him and to also come out from his throat. There was an intense pain in his chest and throat which made him just want to scream in utter agony but all he could do was stand among the trees, completely still and yet trembling like the autumn leaves falling around him as his eyes widened in a mixture of intense emotions.

“Look at that wedding, ‘Samu. We haven’t had one of those around in a while have we?” Rintarou turned to see the twins standing a couple metres away from them, watching the ceremony as well.

“Yeah. I guess with the war now people are getting married less.” Osamu replied to his older brother, “But that’s one of the shogun’s vassals’ vassals. Or somethin’ like that. So no wonder he can afford to.” 

You were getting married to someone like that?

Rintarou stared at the man beside you - he was taller, stronger, and looked far older than he was, especially dressed in his plain black kimono, haori, and hakama set. The kitsune’s small hand crept up his chest and beat it lightly, as if trying to get his heart to restart itself but it just felt painful as he slowly crouched on the soil.

“You were waiting for her, weren’t ya?” Shinsuke’s calm voice spoke from behind the younger kitsune.

As much as he wanted to, Rintarou couldn’t turn away from the wedding. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the smile on your red lips despite how painful it was. Words couldn’t express how badly he wanted to hug you and ask if you remembered him, to wipe the makeup from your face in the same manner he would wipe the dirt from your cheeks after you tripped into mud on those days you played together, to ask you to even talk to him once more. But he knew there was a high chance he would never see you ever again after today.

“Yeah. I was.” the boy sighed as calmly as he could, though it wasn’t hard for Shinsuke to hear the shake in his voice.

The four spirits watched as you and your new husband partook in the san san kudo, drinking sake from the three cups and officially recognising each other as spouses. Your family and friends cheered to see the completion of the ceremony. Smiles could be seen on nearly every person on the shrine grounds and as much as Rintarou hated to admit it, you wore a smile too.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he could have been the one to put that smile on your face. 

All he could do now was to wish for your continued happiness as he passed on your prayers to the god.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Many years had passed. If he was correct, twenty summers had passed, though he wasn’t counting anymore. Twenty summers without you felt like an awfully long time, though time felt like it was flying these days. Certainly faster than the seven years before then where everyday was spent longing for you.

Rintarou noticed that the four foxes had grown taller too, though it seemed like he still had some time to grow. He had grown two new tails too. He wondered how you looked now. If he could he would have left the shrine to see you, but with the war going on more prayers were being offered than ever. 

He wondered if it was foolish of him, but for nearly every day of the past twenty years, he had been clinging on to the hope that one day you would come visit him. Of course, your feelings would be different, but that didn’t matter. All he wanted was to be able to see you again.

Though he hadn’t seen you, he remembered seeing your mother come to the shrine about a year after the wedding to thank Inari for the safe delivery of your new twins. “That’s because of us!” Atsumu boasted once he heard the news (though Shinsuke insisted it was not). Aside from that, Rintarou never heard about you.

Until one day.

“Do you remember that samurai who got married to a woman from this village about twenty years ago?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“The woman passed away last week from some sickness.”

“No way…”

“Yeah, I think the old shrine maidens said she used to come to the shrine a lot as a kid to play in the woods. They liked her a lot.”

“Then it’s good they aren’t around to hear about her either…”

“Mm, I think so too.”

Rintarou’s skin turned to ice upon hearing the news. Suddenly his usual position on the rooftop no longer felt so comforting. His head pounded and his heart felt like it had stopped, a feeling he hadn’t felt since the day he first saw you. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

He just continued to lie on the roof, hands folded over his stomach as the once soft sky suddenly became a glaring shade of blue and white. Even if he closed his eyes, it hurt. 

Everything hurt. 

He continued to lay there for the next few hours, mind empty as he closed his eyes and simply thought of the sky and of you. Memories of watching the clouds, of climbing trees, of fishing in the little lake, and especially of the fireworks. 

By the time he opened his eyes, Rintarou noticed the moon and stars had already taken their place. It was a sky he had only shared with you twice but somehow looking at it always made him feel comforted; knowing even if you two were far away, you were still watching the same sky, moon, and stars. Just as he said all those years ago. 

But that was no longer the case.

He blinked and the twinkling stars had become blurry. Suddenly they had multiplied and the kitsune felt liquid trail down the side of his face. He laughed to himself lightly and sat up to wipe away the tears. 

The once cooling wind of autumn suddenly grew a chilling bite as it blew a cloud to obscure the pale moon above.

As he looked up at the sky, he thought of how foolish he had been to cling to the hope that you would someday come back to see him, or to have fallen for you in the first place. 

And oh how foolish Rintarou had been to think of the most beautiful girl he had seen whenever he looked up at the once beautiful sky.

[corinthbayrpg]

NAME. Vincent Corvin AGE & BIRTH DATE. 32 & October 24th, 1989 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Spirit Genasi OCCUPATION. Owner of Acheron FACE CLAIM. Oliver Jackson-Cohen

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: death, sacrifice, murder ) Under the waning crescent, a boy was born. Above the healer’s quarters the moon streamed dimly through the windows— the waxy glow was nearly swallowed by the dark and those who stood around called it an omen. He was something beautiful, with wisdom in his viridescent gaze and features rounded in fat that match those that sit sharply on his mother’s face. He’ll become just like her, they whisper around him and the words fill the room with a buzz like the swarming of flies. It is from her grip that they wrestled the child from, (it is possessiveness and not anything maternal that brought him close to her chest) and they allow her to place one mark upon the infant, the last tie between mother and son before she was once again banished. She gave him the name Vincent, and he bears the mark like Cain’s— for the child of a genasi being raised within the confines of a coven will never be given free reign, not when the ground where her ties to Hecate were severed stayed pitted and glassy with obsidian.

He’ll become just like her, the phrase is pressed to his skin as he grows older, as steady as a heartbeat and it lingers as an echo. They never tell him her name, but just that as a witch she had bared the same gifts: a touch that brought forth flame and the ability to draw and manipulate emotions of those around him. Vincent, who was smaller than the rest, but whose elbows mercilessly brought blood from noses that got too close and who scrabbled against the earth like a wild animal until he was pulled apart by the witches who had adopted him. It was with a wide berth from the others that he grew, treated as though he was something dangerous: a molotov instead of a boy, and with a loose-tooth smile, he became as volatile as they feared him to be.

Flame came with ease, he could manipulate even the wettest of tinder to spit out smoke and then catch. Buildings and trees licked up with the element, fire is something hungry and ferocious, but Vincent was a child whose appetite would never be sated, he was always starving. Destruction was enjoyable but he found that he revelled further in aftermath. Walking through the shell of a building, around timbers that stood shakily holding up what remained of a roof, his fingers were always stained black with soot. He carried charcoal in his pockets and admired the shadowy parts that others were so afraid of. Consequence came, but an empath never bears the true weight of his crimes, not when he could manipulate hard spirits and soften wicked tempers with the twist of emotion. It made him slyer, and far more cunning than any child should be. They called him Saint and they meant it as an insult, but his grin was too wide and too bright to be tarnished— the irony amused him and he adopted it for himself.

They thought that he would become like his mother, a woman whose name had been struck from every record and who had been banished completely— and he grew obsessed with her story. She had been a prodigious witch, Saint knew that much, a star pupil with a special interest in lore and ancient history. It had been her research that had filled the coven library with so many books of species that had long died out, or were so rare that they were believed to be gone. He spent hours there, pouring over texts on pages that were yellowed and musty with age, feeling a tie to her as he drew his fingers along the handwritten notes in the margin and committed ancient texts to memory.

It was obsessive, his desire to learn and be the best, he practiced spells and enchantments, he strengthened his tie to his element as he grew older, settling into the belly of a fire while those around him in the coven watched him warily. Saint learned how to manipulate smoke, to carry ill will out into the air with flakes of ash and to  make lye out of what remained from his casual destruction. It was his fascination with inflicting harm that worried the witches around him the most, but perhaps not so much as how he delighted at revelling in the heart of his destruction. He grew from a wicked boy to a wicked teenager, a bad seed— but as he began to read more of the writings in the coven library and more of the spells, those who had known his mother declared him a spitting image of her: and all efforts to have rehabilitated the witch were considered a failure.

How strange it was then, to be ousted from a coven for a crime that he had yet to commit. A fire witch still, albeit quite a powerful one, he had yet to learn all that he wished before beginning the ritual. His mother had to be found, and despite the fact that he was certain she had no love for a child abandoned he thought of himself as deserving of answers— if there was anyone to know how to cleanly sever the tie between Hecate and himself, it would be the one woman he knew had done so before. The witch began to wander, careless and cruel, toying with fire that licked down fields of dried grass and devastated livelihoods. A whole town fell to ruin at the flick of an errant spark and they blamed it upon devils and gods with power over lightning and he laughed at the idea that it was someone more angelic, someone wielding the name Saint.

Along the way he learned more, picking up spells and artifacts, toying with dark magic and seeking out answers to find the fire genasi. He didn’t know her name, just that they shared a matching steely gaze and penchant for flame. There were hints along the way, books in places with notes in her handwriting, suggestions for how to perform the ritual and how to appease and appeal to Thanatos. Hecate had done little for him in his life, being a witch had felt like an unjust punishment; a cruel experiment in nature versus nature that had yielded the same, unsatisfactory result. They had treated him as though he was something to be feared, and he had become it.

It was too late when he had found his mother. All leads had taken him to Spain, where he sat in sunny patches with grimoires and spell books, reading about a place in Greece that his mother had noted several times— a place of power that housed the magic veil, it was called Corinth and she had found it important, but it seemed, as he walked into the home that he had finally discovered to be hers, she had never made it there. It was a vampire that greeted him with a face just like his, stalled in time and visually as old as he was— his mother had had her life and her magic stolen, and in turn become something parasitic.

And yet, a boy who had always sought out his mother felt relieved that she still existed, and she was relieved that he had his name still. Her own was Victoire, and to lose magic after all the sacrifices that she had endured to get it would kill her, this she admitted by her son’s ear and he realized then that it wasn’t their appearances that was the binding element between them, but their hungry desire for power. Still, she offered him everything she knew about the ritual that he wished to partake in. An oblation had to be made, Hecate gave her gifts out freely and that was why they were watered down, but Thanatos required blood— true magic required sacrifice. With her words ringing in his ear, she banished him from her home: genasi were not creatures that craved kinship from their own kind and vampires cared little for the survival of their children, and Victoire was both.

The ritual would be done in spring, in the place that he had been born. A cruel heart held the dark desire for symbolism, to be remembered in the coven that he had begun his life in ways that would be seared into their history. Saint Corvin would be a devil’s name, and it would be spat in the dark and it would be used to scare those who grew too bold in shadows. Vengeance existed in the form of three witches stolen from their beds, manipulated and tricked to follow projected cries into the woods— they had thought themselves about to be heroes, to save a child that needed them, and instead they walked into a trap. Saint chose the crater that his mother had performed her own ritual in, finding strength in the stone that was black and shiny like glass, summoning forth the god as blood beaded on pale throats like rubies, before spilling down the fronts of white night gowns.

Thanatos answered the call, then from Corinth bay, magic disappeared from the world. Devastated and utterly human, Saint spent the duration of the few weeks of the veil’s sundering in rage. He deserved more, he had nearly closed his hands around the throat of what he believed to be the ultimate of gifts and in turn life had throttled out what strength he had left in him. There was no spell in the world, no incantation that would repair what had been done, blood stained his hands and he cared little about it, baring his teeth and pressing forth to spill more. The coven lay in ruins and it was then that Daphnis reached into time and pulled the hands back, putting him in front of Thanatos, a god pleased with the sacrifice, with the witch before him— and he was gifted with an element that was entirely his own.

Saint, a man who was more attuned to smoke, drawn to ash and smoulder over the brightness of fire, who longed to toy with shadow, was given not only the dark strength of a genasi but that of a spirit genasi. It would be shadows and spirits that he held claim over, and he greedily thanked the god that had awarded him such an ability, stumbling from the destruction and death that he had left behind to sift into shadow. Promptly razing the coven of his birth followed, and death has followed him in a trail as he has made his way through Europe, finding footing now in Corinth Bay, home of the veil and the epicentre of power. As a genasi he seeks several thing above all: more power, infamy, and life immortal. He is still toying with his new abilities, testing the boundaries and stretching to new limits, but every day with teeth bared in a wicked, hungry smile, he lives to his infallible motto. Carpe omnia; seize everything.

PERSONALITY

+ focused, daring, intelligent – calculating, deceitful, venomous

PLAYED BY SAM. EST. She/Her.

[happytroopers]

A Knight in White Armor // pt. 3

Rex X Royal!Reader

nearly two years later, brought to you by the burning desire I’ve had to yell at the trade federation since I was 6 years old. I’m a SLUT for plitical drama and for Captain Rex

for those of you who are new here:

Part one Part Two Part three Part Four Coming Soon or possibly in two years. 

Did i pull an all nighter to rewrite this bc tumblr deleteed it YES. An no, I don’t know why the formatting looks like that. 

Uhhhm if I tagged you, it’s because you expressed interest recently so if you want me to leave you alone (or want to be included) lemme know.

So, taglist: @robotxtrash @mackstrut @clonewarsreturns @94pigeons @skdubbs and about ten other people who messaged me on anon lmao 

Y’all know the drill, this sucks and its unedited blah blah b;ah 

______________

A day and a half. That’s all you allowed yourself to wallow in self pity. After that, you forced yourself to remember that whoever sent that assassin only sent them because you were doing good work. 

And once you reminded yourself of that, you were back in the spotlight like you’d never left. After you made some changes, mind you, like dismissing the maids they provided and bringing in your personal maids that you’d known since you were sixteen.Of course, Rex was by your side and more protective than he had been. With his formidable presence ever present, even the more hostile politicians were hesitant to get in your face. Yes, you were back, and more determined than ever to truly make a difference.

You were also grappling with other feelings. Feelings that you buried deep into your heart until you were alone. Ever since the first time he called by name, Rex had held a soft spot in your heart. You tried to be reasonable, tell yourself that he was only doing all these things because it was his job. He was only so protective because he was ordered to do so, only candid with you because you asked him to be, so on and so forth. Those things were easy to write off, to kill any hope of him returning your feelings. 

But then, he’d go above and beyond his job. Listening to you complain about other politicians, offering you a steadying hand when you were going down steps in those cumbersome skirts you had to wear, laughing at something you said, staying with you if you felt uneasy at night, carrying food and water with him because you had an awful habit of forgetting to eat between engagements…. A particular memory that always turned your cheeks red was when you were posing for an official photo and your skirts got tangled up,  before a maid could fix it, Captain Rex was on one knee expertly fluffing your skirt back out and laying your train flat. That certainly wasn’t his job. Those were harder to write off and any hope you previously squashed came back with a vengeance.

It was then you’d have to remind yourself it could never happen. On the off chance he did feel the same way,  you knew that there had to be some terrible punishment- it probably fell under insubordinates. Additionally, no matter how persistent the butterflies were, you weren’t naive. You were a princess, royalty, top of the nobility, and you weren’t even the first born. It was only a matter of time before you were married off to satisfy some ally you’d never met before. You’d long since made peace with the fact you marriage would be arranged for the good of your people. As royalty, you sacrificed very few things and lived very fortunately, this was the price. Royals didn’t get true love. Besides, love was a bit melodramatic. You could content yourself with fluffy daydreams for the moment.

That being said, you hardly had time to day dream. Middle of week two (in the month of peace talks), and you were so busy you barely had time to think of anything but public policy, war treaties, and trade negotiation. Trade Negotiation being the first thing on your mind that evening as your maids flurried about, preparing you for that night’s engagement: an invitation from the trade federation to talk about your planet’s charters with them over a private dinner. You were reticent to accept the invitation, especially after Padme’s warnings about them. Even though you were young, you well remembered the siege and blockade of Naboo. But, after speaking to your advisors and parents (the reigning King and Queen), you decided to go. At the very least as a show of strength, and at worst to warn them off bothering your people.

Rex wasn’t all too happy with this dinner either. He’d heard of the trade federation blockade of Naboo from Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, and he’d read the HoloNet articles about the Blockade of the Pantoran Moon. Not to mention all rumors of kidnappings, Separatist ties, and assignation (attempts and successes) that surrounded the Trade Federation. He’d even heard rumors that the Trade Federation ordered a hit on your planet’s senator. Ultimately unsuccessful, but it didn’t make him feel good about you sharing a meal with them. Rex had a feeling that the Neimodians were just as slimy as they looked, and he made his opinion quite clear as he watched your maids assemble your look for the night.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to go. No one will think any less of you.” He assured you from his spot, leaning against the arm of the couch nearest you. Out of your sight, or at least they thought, (and without Rex paying attention), your maids shared a look, as if to say, did this soldier just address the princess by her first name?

You turned your head slightly towards him, but the maids quickly adjusted your posture, “They will, but it’s not about that, Rex,”

You paused, to let the maids know that you definitely saw the looks that time, they hurried back to their work so you continued, “I’m going so that they know that I won’t be bullied into a terrible deal for my people.”

Seemingly finished with your makeup, you watched as the oldest maid pressed your tiara into your hair. Pleased with your appearance, you stood straightening the skirt of the slip you were wearing (the youngest maid had tried to shoe Rex out, saying it wasn’t proper for him to see you like that before you assured her it was alright). They brought over the stiff, heavy, formal dress that would go over the slip, and unlaced the back. You held your arms up and allowed them to slip it over your head. Rex was still watching with an uncertain look in his eyes as they laced you up.

“They can threaten me all they want to, but I will not allow them to threaten my people because they think I’m too young and naive to notice.” You voice was firm, you hadn’t even raised it a decibel, but still commanded all the attention in the room.  Finally, you turned to look at the Captain, and he finally understood. 

While you always looked Royal, you generally weren’t overly fussy about your appearance, but tonight was different. If Rex understood your culture correctly, this was a modern, toned down take on traditional war paint and battle dress, what a princess or queen would wear in a time of war. You meant business tonight, more so than usual. There was no room for argument. Nodding, Rex slid his helmet on, “Then I’ll be right beside you the entire time, your highness.”

Once again, your maids shared a look, somehow using your formal title seemed more intimate than using your real name. Nevertheless, they finished off this look, quite proud of their work by attaching a long, dark, velvety cape to the shoulders of your dress with jewel encrusted clips that probably cost more than a starship. Finally, at the height of regality, you nodded to him and with a flourish of your cape you were out the door.

“Let’s be off then.”

__________

As it turned out, this dinner was not as private as you were promised. Having expected this, you enjoyed the look of frustrated shock when Senator Amidala entered the dining room. Rex nearly flinched as you took a sip of your wine, you’d been quite adamant in not having it tested for poisons.

(“If they’re stupid enough to poison me at their own table, let them dig their own graves.” You had told him, but this didn’t ease his mind. He didn’t trust these people, and Kix didn’t carry many anti-poisons with him.)

If you were worried about poison, you didn’t show it, only raising your glass to Lott Dodd, the republic representative of the Trade Federation. Since you were the only royal in attendance, you were sat at the end of the table with your host, Lott Dodd, on the other end, ten feet away. On your right, Padme, decked out in a tight, black dress with a large, jeweled neckpiece, sat confidently beside you. On your left however, there were two members of the technounion, and two other member of the trade federation. On the other side of Padme was a hologram of a Muun banking clansmen. Of course along the back wall were all of their security, mostly droids. Behind you and Padme,  the walls were lined with Rex’s men and Padme’s own Captain Typho.

“I see you took the liberty to make this dinner not so private, I’m glad I always overdress.” You mused, eyebrow raised in challenge. As if wishing he’d tell Padme to leave.

“I could say the same thing about you, your highness.” Lott Dodd replied lowly with a sugary fake smile.

“The more the merrier, right?” You asked, flashing an equally as fake smile. The neimodian only nodded before taking a large gulp of his wine. If anything was to tell Rex how the rest of that evening would go, it was that interaction right there. As the first course was being served, you half listened to a member of the techounion, Trev, propose a partnership in the technounion and your planets Science Research Division and also his interest in your fuel reserves (which was suspicious all together because it was common knowledge that you planets top scientific priority was developing weapons and medical supplies/technology for the Grand Army of the Republic). Beside you, Padme was in an intense conversation about banking regulation with the Muun hologram. Rather quickly, this was brought to a halt as Lott Dodd gathered your attention, 

“Princess, shall we discuss business now so we can get it out of the way?”

“Of course, I’d love to get it over with quickly.” You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“I’m sure you read the earlier proposal I had delivered to you?” He asked, again you nodded but narrowed you eyes at you glass before lifting cold eyes to him. You could register the shock at your change in demeanor, so you just continued on.

“You mean the proposal to decrease the regulations on the good you import while you also increase the prices, and at the same time decrease the already low prices and taxes on the exports we sell to you?” You clarified, raising a defiant eyebrow at the representative. “I’m no economist, but I’m sure you know that a charter like that would crash our economy. We’ll have to renegotiate.”

“Perhaps our proposal was a bit heavy handed, surely we can find a way for it to work without resorting to unseemly measures. Young people like you don’t seem to realize how trying war time can be.” Lott Dodd tried to regain control of the situation without losing ground on his proposal, but you caught the way his brow ridge twitched and the hidden threat behind his words.

“Oh, like a blockade?” Senator Amidala couldn’t help but mutter into her glass. You breathed a laugh but didn’t comment, if the other guests noticed they didn’t either.

“Hmmm.” You hummed ignored the stammering of your host, instead turning towards the banker, “When money is involved, the banks always have an opinion, so tell me, what do you think of all this?”

The Muun was clearly uncomfortable with the sudden amount of attention on him, but cleared his throat before giving an obviously rehearsed answer, “The Banking Clan does not interfere with any business outside of our own, but no matter your decision if you should need a loan, the banking clan would be honored to work with you to draw one up.”

“How generous, and I’m sure you’ll be the first ones to hear if our economy does crash.” You mused, taking a sip of your wine as the banker gaped at you.

“I’m sure I don’t understand what you mean.” He humphed, the blue hologram flickering. You offered a sweet smile. 

“I’m sure you don’t.” The phrase was innocuous but the smirk on your face told everyone exactly what you meant. You even earned a chuckle masked as a cough from Rex behind you.  Apparently, some of the other guests had had enough of you.

 “Did your parents send you here just to mouth off?” One of the members of the technounion, the one you didn’t know, snapped, and the room went silent as you stared at him. You waited a moment longer than what would have been comfortable before laughing directly in the Skakoan’s face, or well, mask considering they wore those ridiculous suits.

Quieting yourself, you looked to the man who had snapped at you, not many were brave enough to openly insult you to your face, so you’d give him that, 

“First of all, sorry I didn’t get your name,”

“It’s-“ He started but you just kept going.

“No, no, I didn’t ask it doesn’t matter, my parents didn’t send me. Since our senator is still recovering from an assassination attempt,” you paused again to flash a seemingly meaningless look at the Neimodian beside Dodd who flinched, before continuing, “Out of all my siblings and all the royal officials, I was appointed to come here, no, not to mouth off, you’re right, but to represent my planet’s wellbeing and interests. But mouthing off to people who give me dumb proposals sure is a bonus.”

The Skakoan stuttered for a moment before Lott Dodd drew your attention back to him, raising his voice and slapping a hand against the table, this caused Captain Rex to shoot his hand towards the holstered blaster on his hip. You simply reach back out of the other guests sight, not stopping until you hand found his armored knee, a silent show to let him go on. And go on he did.

“Princess (Y/L/N). I realize you're young, princess, but I’ll ask you to respect my guests.”

“Representative Dodd.” You mirrored, slapping the table lightly, "I’ll ask you to show me some respect. I have many drawbacks as a person, but my age isn’t one of them so I you insist on taunting me find something better. Furthermore, don’t assume I’m so young and naive to let you bully and trick me into something that will only benefit you.” “The princess is right, the senate won’t be pleased to hear about these contracts. If their economy crashes, the republic would lose its number one weapons and medical supplier.” Padme added before turning to the technounion member, “I’m sure the senate would also want to know what the technounion wants with their Science Division considering almost all their research is for the military. War time makes people paranoid, and I’d hate for anyone to assume anything too terrible”

Tension in the air was thick, and the trade federation was desperate to regain the upper hand. Feeling a storm coming on, you turned back to Rex and beckoned him down to you level.

He obliged as you whispered, “Could you move one of you men where they can get this whole table in the frame and tell them to video record until it’s over? I want to show my advisors exactly what was said and happened here tonight.”

Nodding, he set your plan into action as Lott Dodd tried a new approach, intimidation, “I’m not as radical as some, but I’m sure some in the federation will call for drastic measures if your planet doesn’t wish to compromise with us.”

“I’ve heard how well you compromise.” You challenged, before flicking your eyes around the table. The banking clansmen was listening intently and the Technounion members were glaring at you sharply from behind their goggles. These negotiations, if you could even call them that, were derailing. This time you voice wasn’t a challenge, it was firm, stern, an order. "Since this no longer concerns the rest of you, you may leave.”

The banker was the first to go, his hologram flickering out before your anger could be directed at him, Trev and his parter were next and they filed out with their security droids filing behind them. Padme gave you a look, and you nodded to her assuring her you’d be alright. With one last comforting hand on yours, she got up and gracefully exited but not before throwing one last glare at Dodd. Along the walls most of the droids had dispersed, so you decided to even the playing field. If he wanted to play the intimidation game, you’d play it, but you wanted him to be intimidated by you not your security forces.

Turning to Captain Rex, you loudly announced, “Captain, you and four of your men stay. That should be plenty to escort me back to my quarters when we’re finished. The rest can be dismissed.”

You could tell under his helmet his was not happy with your plan, so quietly you continued, “The trade federation is stupid, but not so stupid as to murder me right here. Besides, there’s maybe 5 droids-“

“6.” He corrected shortly.

“6 droids, you and your men should be more than capable of handling them if it comes to it, which it won’t.”

With a sigh, he carried out your orders and you watched as half the squad filed out before he returned to your side. With that done, you turned back to the three Trade Federation member that sat ten feet across from you.

Currently relaxed in your chair, you gave each of them a once over before adjusting your posture so you sat stick straight, elbows resting on the armrests but hands clasped in your lap, shoulders back and down, chest out, chin up, eyes narrowed. You managed to look down on them despite being ten feet away and a whole foot shorter than all of them.  Captain Rex saw the change in your whole demeanor, you went from conversation to looking like a marble statue on a throne in the blink of an eye. He saw it long before he heard it in your voice which wasn’t far behind.

“Now, I sent them out so you could save face. I’ve shown you that kindness, you’re welcome.” Somehow even you voice had an edge to it, slightly lower than you usually spoke and had a certain coldness that he’d never heard from you. “With them gone, please, feel free to openly threaten my people. The propriety and pleasantries will keep us here all night, and I was hoping to enjoy better company this evening.”

Lott Dodd was stricken silent, so the shorter one next to him nodded fervently, 

“Of course, your majesty, I’m positive we can wrap this up quickly if you-“

He was interrupted by Dodd snapping back to his senses, “If you agree to our proposals, I’m sure we can work out something for your people.”

“Stop calling them proposals, they are demands. They are ransom demands of my people which you haven’t even taken hostage yet.” You remarked, angry words but an icily calm voice.

“I’m not as radical as some of my fellow Tradesmen, but if you insist on bringing it into the conversation, blockades of planets that don’t meet the requirements in our charters are well within our senatorial rights. If you refuse, your planet can be blockaded and sieged until we work something out.”

“I understand I have two options.” You began.

“Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” The third tradesmen smiled, but you weren’t finished yet.

“First, I could sign this charter right now and by the time I return home, my economy would crash, people would starve, citizens would riot, and then, look at that, we’d have to take a loan from the banking clans to stimulate our economy. This lets my people starve and suffer. Second, I could say no to this ridiculous offer and you think you’ll blockade my planet which will again let my people starve and suffer.”

“I do not think, I know.” Lott nodded, finally speaking some truth. This time you shook your head.

“No, you think. First of all, if you blockaded out planet and kept the Grand Army of the Republic from getting it’s much needed supplies during war time under Marshall law- which renders that funny senatorial right of yours null- they have every legal right take care of you for us.” You paused, forcing a bittersweet tone, “War Times can be trying for all of us.”

“Things work so slow in the senate, that could take months. Your people could be with out food and supplies for months, and when politicians, even royals, fall out of favor, well I sure you remember last weeks dreadful incident.”

He was referring to the assassination attempt, there was a twinge of anxiety when you recalled the night but you pushed it down, “I find, actually, that politicians, even royals, are in most danger when they piss off other politicians. But I’m sure you don’t know anything about that, Representative?”

He cleared his throat, “Of course not, princess, regardless of public opinion, a blockade, even a short one, can do untold damage to a planet’s resources. I’m a humanitarian and I’d hate to see your people suffer- starvation, disease, shelter crises, riots…  I hate to see that happen because you wouldn’t sign a treaty with us.”

That was the tipping point, you’d heard and seen enough.

Standing so fast, you tipped over your chair you were quick to cut into the Neimodian, “Even if the military doesn’t come to our aid, if you haven’t noticed every planet you’ve blockaded in the last decade have been crucially underdeveloped weaponry wise. That is not the case of my planet or my people, we will not be afraid to fight back. If you blockade our planet, we will be all too happy to use our ground-to-upper-atmosphere plasma cannons to shoot you out of the sky. So, please, I invite to you blockade my planet, it’ll give me great joy to see you efforts wasted.”

“Secondly, you think I’m so young that I don’t understand the thinly veiled threats on my life? The references to assassins? I’m not a senator, I’m royalty and a threat on my life is considered an act of war. And believe me, my planet will wage a war on the Trade Federate rage and determination, the likes of which, you very well have not seen before.” Words fell from your lips like venom, and though your voice was raised it was a controlled form a shouting that resonated through the whole room, and was honestly much more intimidating than if you were screaming. But you weren’t done yet.

“But, go ahead, threaten me and my life all you want. I simply do not care, but if you threaten my people with suffering like that again,” You stopped, hand falling to the table top and finding its target as your fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife, picking it up and burying it into the polished wood surface, "I will execute you where you stand by my own hand. I don’t relish in the death of others, but unlike others present, I don’t hire assassins, I’ll get my hands dirty for my people. And yes, not only is that a threat, that is, by my family’s name, a promise.”

You paused to take a breath, ready to continue laying into them but Rex placed a a warning hand on your shoulder as if to say, you’ve made your point, stop while you’re ahead. Nodding, though he hadn’t said anything, you observed your audience who were all staring at you in both awe and slight fear.  Breathing slightly heavy, you took one long and slow breath.

“Now,  you better be grateful I’m the person they chose to send because I’m far more understanding than any of my siblings. They would go ahead and cut all charters with the trade federation right this moment, but since I’m much more forgiving… First thing tomorrow morning, you will get a call from my planet’s chief economist and head financial advisors. With them, you’ll devise a new charter that benefits both sides, and I wouldn’t get too greedy considering how tonight went,” You ordered, eyes narrowing in on Lott Dodd, “Please do remember what I told you tonight, all of it.” With that, you turned naturally (re: purposely dramatically) throwing your cape behind you as you went. Your fury was only punctuated by the wind off your cape hitting the Tradesmen who only watched you stride away cape billowing and soldiers marching behind you. _________

Later, that same evening, you were pacing the length of your quarters while Padme reviewed the video you gotten from one of the troopers, Jesse his name was. You’d long since abandoned the cape, formal dress, hair pieces, tiara, and gotten rid of most of your makeup, leaving you in a lounge dress you deemed fit for company. Afterwards, you dismissed your maids for the night- it’d be a while before you could even think about sleep.

Captain Rex had gone to talk to the general’s about tonight’s events which left you alone with the Nubian Senator, not that you minded. You’d considered her a friend long before these peace talks, considering how close you were in age, she was only a handful of years older than you. Even with her there, you were still going over the earlier events. Even though your parents and advisors had already seen and approved your actions, now that the righteous anger had faded you were left with nervous anxiety.

As the video clip ended, Padme looked over to you (you had paced behind the couch she was on) and tried to assure you, “Some may say that you got a little carried away, but other than that I see nothing wrong with this.”

You only hummed in response as you turned and crossed the room again, “If you’re worried about the senate, the proposals were ridiculous and the trade federation is on thin ice after their Pantoran scandal, so the senate won’t look twice at this.” 

This time you nodded as you turned on your heel, but this time, as you strutted past her, she caught you by the wrist and pulled you onto the couch with her. (Part of your head reminded you of how you’d basically put yourself on Rex’s lap to escape Kix’s disinfectant- on that very couch. But you cleared that funny memory before you even got the chance to blush.)

Despite her approval, the approval of every high advisor, and even your own parent’s approval, something still didn’t feel right but you couldn’t find the right word for it. 

Fortunately, Padme seemed to sense this and put a comforting hand on top of yours, “I know how you feel. The feeling that you still have more you want to say, the feeling that you said too much, anxiety about the enemies you might have created, anger that they threatened your people’s safety, frustration you couldn’t do more, fear you didn’t do enough. I had the same feeling with the trade federation years ago, and I wish I had the confidence to talk to them like that, then. And if all this gets out and into the media, your people will be proud to see their princess standing up for their rights. You have nothing to worry about.” 

Just like that, she put that feeling into words and somehow that made it easier to deal with. With a small smile, you took her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you, Padme, your friendship means more than you know.” You admitted, she returned the gesture. 

“For the look on Dodd’s face, I should be thanking you.” She joked to ease the mood, you remembered every single look on his face, and she was right, worth it. To your surprise, she actually leaned forward and hugged you. Returning the embrace, you relished in the touch, not remembering the last time you’d been hugged like this, it was nice. When she pulled away, she smiled again, “Now, you should get some rest, tomorrow is another mass peace discussion and you can’t walk into that with a tired mind.”

With that, she smiled once more before turning to leave. On her way through the door, she was met by Captain Rex who gave her a quick salute as he carried a small tray in. Once the door slid shut, the captain set the tray down on the table nearest you before plucking off his helmet.

“You didn’t eat much at the dinner before it derailed, so I thought you might be hungry. I asked your maid to find something suitable for you- all I had were ration bars and I’ll barely eat them.” He explained. You weren’t hungry at all, but you still thanked him sweetly for his thoughtfulness as you picked at the plate so it wouldn’t be for nothing. This level of thoughtfulness wasn’t part of his job, you thought to yourself before correcting that line of thought. Instead, you imagined the butterflies in your stomach being fumigated, watching him as he did his routine safety checks.

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he simply asked without turning around, “Something wrong?”

Your eyes immediately fell back to the plate, critically analyzing the color and texture of every piece of fruit in the fancy spread, “No, no, I was just worried about what happened tonight but Padme very helpful.”

“She’s a good woman, especially for a politician.” He nodded, checking the balcony doors. Even though you always encouraged him to speak candidly, sometimes his honesty caught you by surprise. You couldn’t help but laugh at his distaste for politicians, a subject that had come up before.

“Yes, she is. And a good friend.” You sighed, picking at the side salad as you shamelessly continued observing him as he checked your closets next. He was tense, something was definitely bothering him. So this time, it was your turn, “What about you, Rex, something wrong?”

Though it was only for a millisecond, you caught that look of I wish I kept my helmet on and the side glance he threw at it where it sat on corner of your bed. Sans helmet, it was much easier to read his emotions, even though he was fairly good at hiding them. You could see him debating on whether or not he wanted to tell you. And for a moment, you feared you’d upset him- you rarely gave firm orders, maybe he was upset you gave him orders at dinner?

Finally he looked over to you and ended your spiraling thought process, “Brave and Impressive as it was, the next time you wish to shoot off like that, please give me some notice. Further more, please keep in mind that one day you might yell at someone who carries a blaster.”

Oh, there was that honesty again. You felt a little hurt for a second until you caught his eyes, and then you understood his plan. Say something just harsh enough to distract you from what was really wrong. You’d play along, for now.

“Well, I’ll try to keep that in mind the next time someone threaten’s my planet’s security, Captain.” You nodded playfully, abandoning the picked over plate to move to your vanity. Scrubbing off the remainder of the makeup, you watched him move from your closet to the floor to ceiling windows, using the wall panel to close the blinds for the night.  

“You know your security is my top priority, (Y/N).” He shot you a glance, half playful, half serious. You relaxed a bit at your name, it made everything less formal and stiff. He seemed to sense this too, so he just continued, “I thought Jesse was going to piss himself when you sassed that banker. We had a closed circuit conversation going during the dinner.”

He explained, and you just smiled taking your hair of of the braid and pulling a brush through it. Through the mirror, you saw his helmet. You’d often wondered about the sound proofing they hand, and now you had your answer.

“Glad I could be of entertainment.” You teased as he disappeared into your bathroom. He emerged shortly afterwards with a small smile.

“Hardcase asked me if you carried a blaster, apparently you seem like ’the type’, whatever that means. He assure me that ’the type’ is a high compliment, apparently Senator Amidala is also ’the type’.” He continued. You always enjoyed hearing him talk about his men, he obviously cared a lot about them, even if they drove him crazy sometimes.

“Well, I think I should know how to fire a blaster before I make a habit of carrying one around.” You thought aloud as you went through the process of putting serums and creams on your skin, a ritual usually reserved for your maids but you were just as capable. Out of your eye sight, Rex cast you a funny look before remembering normal children weren’t brought up learning to assemble, aim, fire, clean, and disassemble every type of firearm the military had access to.

Instead, he offered, “If this place had the facilities, I could teach you.”

You both knew it didn’t, so you just smiled, “Or perhaps, I’ll just try not to get shot.”

“Yes, that works too.” He nodded with a grin, “Well, rooms all clear so you’re free to go to sleep whenever you want to. Unless you need anything else, I need to speak to my men before dismissing them to get some rest.”

He was already walking away by the time you called back to him, “Actually, Rex, before you go, you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He stood wide eyed for a moment before you explained yourself, “Rex, it doesn’t take a Jedi to see that you're tense.”

He stayed silent for a moment longer that you felt comfortable with, so you hid the hurt in your voice with, “Alright, if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Goodnight, Rex.”

But just as you could read his emotions, he had gotten rather good at finding what you really meant from what you said. He could easily hear the disappointment in your voice, so tried to remedy it with a rushed, “No it’s not that, it’s just that I-“

He paused again, so you turned around to fully face him and prodded him to continue, “You what?”

“I’ve... developed some unprofessional feelings during this assignment… for you. And, please don’t take this as a negative light on my men or the Republic. I would never act on it, or let it interfere with this job. I’m not expecting you to do anything or reciprocate anything,” He paused to look away, “You’ve made it very easy to forget who you are, who I am. Made it easy to forget that even on the impossible chance you reciprocate these feelings, that we could never be anything more than what we are right now. But tonight, seeing you command a room like that, as Brave, and amazing, and stunning as that was to see, it was a painful reminder of every reason why it would never work. So, I didn’t want to tell you because it would only hurt the two of us more. ”

You barely heard the last part over the pounding in your ears, sweaty palms balling up your skirt- he was right, knowing but not being able to act on it, especially hearing it from his lips, hurts worse than wondering. He took your silence as the only answer he need as he turned to leave again.

“I, uh, understand if I’ve offended you or made you uncomfortable. So if you’d rather not see me anymore, I can send someone else to be your personal escort for the remainder of this assignment. Just send a maid to tell me by morning.” He instructed stiffly before the door swooshed open. It took a moment for everything to process, but then, before you could stop yourself, you bolted off after him. Catching him by the wrist, you pulled him back into your quarters. It took a moment to gather your thoughts, but after an awkward pause of you just holding his wrist, you stammered,  “That won’t be necessary, Rex, because, these feelings you have, they, uh, don’t bother me because, well, because I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”

For a singular moment, you allowed yourself to forget about your responsibilities. Allowed yourself to think like a normal young woman and be happy you just found out the man you fancied returned you affection, and in that moment that regular young woman threw her arms around his neck and hugged him like her life depended on it. Felt his chin stubble against her face and how his armor poked the softer parts of her body. Slowly, he brought his arms around her waist and held her there, silently enjoying the touch for a long as she would allow herself.

When you pulled away, Rex subconsciously kept a hand on your hip as you looked up to him and pressed one tentative kiss to his cheek- all you dared to do. This time you pulled away and put a bit more distance between you and him and wrapped your arms around yourself to keep from reaching out to him- any closer and you weren’t sure you would say what needed to be said. In the pause, you reminded yourself of every reason you weren’t that regular young woman.

For a moment, you stared at the Captain with sad eyes truly debating if you had to stop yourself. Firmly, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities, but Rex already knew you had made up your mind. Still, he let you speak, knowing it was more for you than for him.

“I’m sorry, but you were right. Even though we share these feelings, nothing can come of it- we both have responsibilities.” At first you tried to keep you voice clear, as if you were addressing the public, but that didn’t work so you switched back to you normal tone, softer and just for him, “Rex, I don’t even want to know the punishment for this, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because of me. So, you’re right let's just end this before we both get hurt, and just carry on as we were before, right, Rex?”

You’d never asked for guidance, and Rex considered being selfish, but he knew he couldn’t do that to you. You were asking because you needed him to tell you that you were doing the right thing, and if you needed his strength he’d give it to you.

“Of course, we’ll carry on and get through this just like we have been.” He assured you, which even though you knew it was the right thing, it was the exact opposite of what you wanted to hear. Rex turned to leave after a quiet goodnight and this time you let him.

“I just never thought you‘d be-“ You started with a sad smile, but the door cut you off, Captain Rex never even heard you over the door closing, separated the two of you physically as you had just done metaphorically, you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing though, “the first person I loved.”

You comm unit beeped on your nightstand, Rex’s voice immediately followed, “I’m sorry did you need something, I thought I heard you say something.”

You quickly answered, forcing a nonchalant tone, “No, just talking to myself. Goodnight, Rex.”

“Goodnight, your highness.”

Somehow that stung worse than ending something that never had its chance. But that’s the price of royalty.

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Frozen(elsanna)x Prey au Snippet 2

Because I’m insatiable here’s another

(And here’s Part 1, for those who missed it)

Context: This is before containment break, before the events that take place during Prey canon. Anna gets downtime every once in a while between bouts of testing, and this would be an example of time off. Restful and relaxing.... not ;-; This is the early days of Anna’s memory loss, and Elsa’s burgeoning guilt

Similar characters to last time, but three new ones (also in Prey canon): Dr. Igwe, chief neuroscientist assigned to Psychotronics, Head Nurse Goldcrest, and Dr. DeVries, Chief Surgeon, who both work in the Trauma Center

Slight content warning for blood and injury, specifically regarding the eye. No graphic description, but it’s in there

——————— 

There is something here with her.

Anna presses her bare fingers against tempered glass. The translucent substance ripples under her touch, vibrating slightly in purples and reds and yellows before accommodating, and slipping back to it’s sleek, clear form. This glass, this… barrier, has been tested against wrench swings and shotgun blasts and bunker busters - engineered to self-heal and withstand the vacuum of space for decades if necessary. It’s all over Talos I, beautiful and secure. It keeps everyone safe and sound.

But the shape in the dark is already inside.

Or it… wants to be.

Anna strains her eyes, trying to see beyond the billions of stars that pinprick the black, endless cosmos. She ducks her head and puts a hand over her brow, trying to block out the outline of her reflection. She tries not to blink, lest she miss something, some wisp or shift in that massive vastness. There’s a presence. It lurks and hums in her mind, roiling like ink dark waves.

It’s hungry. It’s so hungry.

The effort of looking too hard for too long catches up to Anna. Her eyes hurt. She’s only human.

She blinks.

She blinks and all the stars are teeth and all the teeth are stars and they bare down on her with the weight of the universe.

—

Anna gasps as she bolts upright in bed. It’s dark here too, but warm instead of cold. Not stars but stained wood paneling and soft carpet. Not endless space but walls, a dimmed desk light, and a tangible sense of scale. Anna swallows, breathing harshly in the night, half under the covers of the bed in her sister’s personal quarters. Sweat covers her skin and gooseflesh shivers across her body from head to toe in waves. Anna’s body shakes, trembles, her arms on the verge of collapsing her backwards.

Back to the dark. To the dream.

There is… movement, beside her.

Adrenaline crashes into Anna’s system again as the bed dips. Something moves closer.

It’s… Elsa. Rolling over in her sleep.

Her sister’s arm falls across the space Anna should be. Her fingers splay out, and in the dim light, Anna sees Elsa’s brow furrow slightly, even asleep. She murmurs, and after a moment her eyes open, hazy with fatigue.

“Anna?” She asks into the room, quiet and small. Anna takes a breath and puts a hand out towards Elsa, letting herself be found. Her sister takes it immediately, grip tightening when Anna can’t stop the shaking. “Was it that nightmare again?”

“...Again?”

Elsa tilts her head, slow in her stupor. Anna hears her shift and her free hand comes into view. Her thumb brushes the pads of her fingers and a blue glow emerges, floating gently between them. Elsa’s snow glitters in it’s own aura, illuminating their faces like an incandescent bulb under water. In this wavering light, Elsa searches Anna’s face. “The one about the stars.”

Anna bites her lip. The dream still wraps it’s tendrils around her, brushing against the back of her brain. Surely she would remember a nightmare like that, yet she can’t recall having it before, much less telling Elsa. When Anna was little it was the endless hallways that narrowed and choked her young mind until she burst into tears and ran to their parents’ room - but as she’d gotten older, and moved away, those nightmares had faded into more mundane things, if she dreamed at all.

But the terror of that open night sky in her mind. The one that looks back at her.

No. That is horrifyingly new.

Maybe her mind is playing tricks on her, still mired in the black. She would remember telling Elsa about this later, when she was calm. For now, she simply nods.

Elsa hugs Anna’s arm to her, pulling her down, back into bed. “You never used to have nightmares,” she says softly. “You used to sleep so soundly, here with me.” She combs sweat soaked bangs back, her hands warm against Anna’s chilled skin. “And you used to love the stars.”

Anna exhales, grounding herself with Elsa’s touch. “They’re unsettling.”

“You always thought they watched over us.”

“Now they just watch us.”

Elsa’s hand stops. “They’re just balls of gas, Anna,” she states, though her tone is patient. “Burning millions or billions of miles away. As fascinating as they are, there’s nothing more intelligent about them.”

Anna remembers the universe of  teeth and doesn't answer.

“These tests are taking their toll on you,” Elsa says finally. “Maybe you should stop.”

“I can’t.” Elsa knows this. Anna can’t give up. Won’t. The technology they're bringing into the world, the discoveries made - all of this is for something greater. These neuromods are going to change people’s lives, they just need some fine tuning.

And if more people could do the extraordinary things Elsa could, what more might humanity be capable of?

Anna --powerless, human-- has to try.

Elsa sighs before she replies, cupping Anna’s jaw with both hands and looking into her eyes in the darkness of their room. “I’ll ask Bellamy and Dr. Igwe to slow down, then. Just a little,” she adds before Anna can protest. “You’ll burn out, Anna, and then who will you be helping?”

Anna huffs;  Elsa has a point. But before she can speak a stinging pain lances through her right eye and she flinches. She rubs the spot as Elsa makes a concerned noise. “And I think I’ll email nurse Goldcrest about that. The redness is getting worse.”

Her eye.

It’s been bothering Anna for a while now. At first they thought she was developing an allergy. “An allergy,” she’d laughed with Elsa over coffee in the Lobby, overlooking the incredible, blue and green sphere that was Earth. Close enough to fill any person with awe, but far enough away to cover with one hand. “An allergy, in space!” It was funny.

Then it got worse.

Itchy, irritated, dry, but above all, sore. Painful. It throbbed during her tests and in her sleep, keeping her awake, sometimes for hours. Sweeping past Anna’s stubbornness, Elsa had scheduled a consultation with none other than Dr. DeVries, the head surgeon, but even he had come back with inconclusive results. “Stress might be a factor,” he’d said, “but we’ll need to monitor her to be sure. For now, we’ll put in a request for medicated eye-drops to help with the more common symptoms.”

Those had worked. For a week.

It was strange though. Sometimes Anna would forget the redness was there at all - in fact, sometimes it wasn’t. She’d look in the mirror and her eye would be perfectly fine, and she’d think maybe it was just a passing illness or bad reaction. But other times the pain would spread from her eye to her temple to the base of her skull and just press, like her head was in a vice. Worse than a migraine or a hangover because it squeezed, and left Anna short of attention and breath.

And then one morning she woke up alone, a note from Elsa on the bedside table, wishing her good morning and good luck on a new slew of tests…

...and on the paper fell a single, red blot.

Bellamy barred Anna at the door to Psychotronics and sent her home. Elsa was back from the labs within the hour.

Anna had spent the rest of the day in a blur of check ups and people talking over her, her head buzzing with heat and white noise, her vision speckled with black dots. Goldcrest had prescribed medicine and recommended two weeks off work. Despite the circumstances, and Anna’s state, Elsa had been relieved by that decision.

Now, a few months later, Elsa draws Anna close, pressing a kiss to her temple. She wraps her arms around Anna’s head, pulling her love to her chest, feeling as well as hearing the deep rhythmic breaths of slumber washing over Anna. She’d fallen back asleep fitfully, though it seemed true rest had stolen over her at last. Her hands clutch loosely to Elsa’s nightgown, and her exhales ghost over her sister’s collarbone.

Elsa’s eyes remain open, gaze on the far wall as the clock hands tick the night away.

This time, it was she who cannot sleep.

Trepidation churns in her stomach. She knows Anna would move the Earth, moon, and stars for her if she asked. That Anna has a heart of gold and hope, and a determination to put all of that to use.

Elsa just worries that someone.... or something… is taking advantage of that goodwill.

Not that Elsa suspects any of her co-workers in particular. While they may work in many different fields, everyone aboard Talos I’s goals are the same: the betterment of humanity through their research. These neuromods, with their ability to teach any skill provided they can find someone to model and copy, could change everything. They could give people abilities that they’d only dreamed of before. Elsa looks up at her glowing snow sphere, twinkling as it spins.

Neuromods could even make more people like her.

The thought puts a crease in her brow and she waves her hand, dispelling the magic and drenching the room in darkness once more.

Because the truth is: Elsa hadn’t asked Anna to do this. Anna had volunteered, knowing TranStar wanted what Elsa had, but that the risk of researching on the only person they knew of to have such a gift was too great. Anna, already a talented and intelligent scientist in her own right, had sacrificed her own job for Elsa’s sake, without hesitation.

And it is hurting her.

Elsa’s heart pangs with remorse. She buries her fingers in Anna’s hair and cradles her close. “It’s for the greater good,” she whispers to herself. “It’s for the greater good.”

When Anna had returned from Psychotronics that fateful day, Elsa had found her curled on her side, clutching her head and sweating bullets. Blood in her hand and blood on the sheets.

After the medical review, Anna had slept.

And slept.

And slept.

For two days Elsa could barely rouse Anna long enough to eat or drink, and when she finally recovered it was as though a pall had been cast over her. Grey and listing, muted as though through a screen.

“It’s for the greater good…” Sorrow wells in Elsa’s throat. Anna breathes deep against her and Elsa wishes that her powers were something else. Something to keep Anna here, safe and sound. To keep her... hers.

Anna’s spark had tempered those two days, and Elsa isn’t sure that it fully returned. She fears that it never will. Her sister is chipper and bright, but like a gas stove with a faltering igniter, Anna’s flame is struggling to catch.

“Greater good,” Elsa’s voice breaks, tears tracking down her face to fall on Anna’s head. “It’s for the greater… good…”

Sleep comes for Elsa too, jagged and broken and troubled. She dreams of a star in her sister’s chest.

She dreams of that star going out.

[freddiesaysalright]

Just Like a Woman - Part 1

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby​, @moon-stars-soul​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @ixchel-9275​, @jennyggggrrr​, @zyanmaik​, @mypassionfortrash​, @a19103​, @madeinheavxn​, @beepbeephardy​, @lizawritesthings​, @qweenly, @blisshemmings​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Here we are! The full first part of my new fic is here! Thanks for all the great feedback on the preview, and I hope you all enjoy this :D

Warning(s): None :)

Part 1 here we go!!!

“You want to sue him?”

“Yes.”

“For his thoughts?”

“Yes.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Look, I don’t know how exactly things work in America, Miss Thomas, but in England, you can’t sue someone just for thinking about you,” you said as calmly as you could manage.

“It’s not just that he was thinking about me, it’s what he was thinking,” Miss Thomas argued flatly. “I’m penile psychic. I know he was thinking about making love to me, which I find absolutely disgusting and inappropriate. It severely distressed me.”

Her inexpressive face told you she felt nothing, least of all distress.

“I don’t understand what you’re going for here,” you said. “Emotional distress or sexual harassment?”

“Both,” she said. 

“Sexual harassment won’t make it,” you explained. “You’re his boss, it’s not designed that way. And let’s say it was, has he actually said anything to you that was inappropriate?”

“No, how many times do I have to say this?” she complained, rolling her eyes. “It was in his thoughts, I know it.”

You sighed. “On both these counts we would need some sort of action. Your supernatural penis abilities won’t hold up in court as proof, it’s that simple.”

“Look, I have money, you’re an attorney, do your job,” she snapped.

“I can’t if I -” you began, but your boss interrupted with three quick raps on your office door.

“Bill, I’m in the middle of a meeting with a client,” you told him.

“Ditch it, that case is rubbish anyway, I’ve got something better for you,” he said.

“Excuse me!” Miss Thomas protested, turning to face him.

“You’re the one who told me to take it!” you argued. “I told you it was rubbish from the start!”

“Hey!” Miss Thomas cried, only to continue being ignored.

“What’s this new case, then?” you asked.

“Believe me, you want it,” Bill continued. “It’s a divorce case, but you’re going to piss yourself when you see who it is.”

“I’m a paying client, you know!” Miss Thomas interjected.

Finally, you looked at her again.

“I’m sorry, Miss Thomas, but we’re just not prepared to take on your case,” you said. “It will be thrown out and frankly, we’d charge you just for wasting our time. Have a good day, now.”

With that, you rose from your seat, walked around your desk, and crossed the room to Bill. Together, you left Miss Thomas in your office. She huffed and stormed after you.

“So, who’s getting divorced and why is it a big deal?” you demanded as you walked with  your boss to the conference room.

“This is perhaps the most famous client we’ve ever had,” he said, stopping just outside the door. “Go in.”

Brow furrowed, but excited by the mystery, you reached out a hand to open the door. You pulled it toward you and stepped through. Three people sat at the table, but your eyes were immediately fixed on the one. The blonde man who sat alone. He was reclined, with his feet on the table. He sat up and removed his sunglasses when he saw you. His mouth fell just slightly open. 

Yes, you knew who it was. You just wished you didn’t.

Bill blew by you and went to shake the man’s hand.

“Mr. Taylor, this is Y/N Y/L/N, and she’ll be representing you,” he said.

You met Roger Taylor’s gaze for the first time in years. Those blue eyes brought back all  of the love you’d once felt. But there was even more pain.

“They’ve slept together.”

You screamed and jumped away from the source of the voice you hadn’t even realized was in the room. You whipped around and saw Miss Thomas behind you.

“I - wh - oh - what are you still doing here?!” you demanded.

“I still want my case covered!” she cried, stamping her foot.

“Hold on, how do you know we’ve slept together?” wondered Roger.

“Like I said,” she returned with a shrug. “I’m penile psychic.”

“Get out!” you shouted.

She eyed you up and down like a hungry tiger before turning on her heel and sweeping out to the lobby. You looked at Bill.

“Sorry, I’m not taking the case,” you said, then you too left the room, only you were heading for your office.

Roger looked at Bill. Bill had a thousand questions, but first, he had to get you back in the room.

“Just a moment, Mr. Taylor,” he said, and jogged after you.

You were just about to close the door, when Bill slapped his hand on it to stop you.

“You have to take the case, Y/N,” he said. 

“Why does it have to be me?” you wondered.

“You’re the best divorce attorney in the firm,” he reminded you. “That’s always been your specialty. I understand maybe there’s some history there, but can’t you get past that? He’s...he’s so rich, Y/N.”

“So?” 

“So?! We want his money, that’s the reason I started a law firm! If I’m not making money, then what’s the point, really?”

You groaned. “You don’t understand, Bill. This is going to be extremely uncomfortable. Roger and I were in a relationship. For years.”

“Well, time moves on, that’s all over, time to be adults,” Bill said. “You’re doing this.”

You glowered at him. “Fine. But I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“Like that’s any different from normal?” he retorted. “Get in there and get to work.”

Your scowl deepened. Alone this time, you went to the conference room. Roger had resumed his seat at the table and was chewing at his thumb nail. You sighed and entered, notepad and pen in hand.

“Sorry about that,” you said. “We can start the meeting now.”

“No, we can’t,” said Roger. “Y/N, can we talk?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied sharply. “Let’s just begin.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m not comfortable with this going forward, knowing that counsel has slept with the client,” the wife’s lawyer said.

His name was Tim Hooper, and he frequently made comments like these.

“Counsel’s discomfort is noted,” you snapped, taking your seat next to Roger. 

“Y/N, I really think we should talk,” Roger said.

“No!” you cried, then stopped yourself and cleared your throat. “We need to start this meeting, your wife has waited long enough.”

“Honestly,” the wife said. “It doesn’t matter. We’d have a hard time finding a woman in London Roger hasn’t shagged.”

“Hey!” Roger started, jumping to his feet, but you grabbed his arm and returned him swiftly to his chair. 

“There’s no need to get personal, Mrs. Taylor,” you said.

“Dominique,” she corrected. “Or Mrs. Beyrand, if you please.” 

“Mrs. Beyrand, I’m grateful that my history with Mr. Taylor is of no consequence to you, but again, we should all be civil to one another,” you said. “Let’s get to the papers, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s,” she agreed. 

“So, you’re filing for divorce because Mr. Taylor was unfaithful to you, am I reading this right?” you asked, holding out the paper. 

“Yes,” she replied. “While touring, he slept with countless other women.”

“Big surprise there,” you muttered under your breath as you made a note. 

Roger’s glare told you that he heard you.

You and Roger ended before you could prove that he cheated on you, though you always suspected it. He had just changed so much. 

You continued through the paperwork, since there was some dispute over the house. Dominique wanted to keep living there, but Roger wanted it for himself.

“I bought that house before we were married,” he said. “With money I earned from Queen. Why should you get to keep it?”

“Because you’re never even there!” she insisted. “You’re always in the studio or touring, I’m the one who lives in it!”

“It’s my house!” he argued. 

“That you don’t even use!” she shot back. “Why should I uproot the kids when -”

“I didn’t say the kids had to leave, just you,” he cut across her. 

“You can’t separate me from the kids, Rog,” she snapped. 

“They’re my children too, Dom, and if you think -”

“Okay!” you interrupted. “Okay, everyone settle down. I’m going to do some research and figure out what the law entitles each of you to.”

“I’m not comfortable with the implication that you’ll be taking care of my client’s needs, Miss Y/L/N,” said Tim. 

“Then do your job,” you returned. “But I think we need to take a break from this and meet again later this week. How’s Wednesday morning at ten sound? Comfortable enough?”

“That’s fine with me, Tim,” said Dominique. 

“We’ll see you Wednesday, then,” he said. 

You shook hands with both Tim and Dominique before they left the conference room. Then, it was just you and Roger alone. You looked at the ground, shifting your weight between your feet as you thought of some reason to escape being in his company. 

“Look, Y/N, you don’t have to take my case if you don’t want to,” he finally said. 

You looked up. “I do actually have to take it. Did you have a problem with the way I handled it?”

“No, you were brilliant, it’s just -”

“Then we’ll continue,” you cut across him. 

A beat passed. He bit his lip and looked around the room before finding his way back to you. 

“Can we talk?” he asked. 

“Now’s not a good time,” you said. “I’m at work.”

“Can we get a drink then?” he wondered. “I feel like we need to clear the air.”

“Roger, we haven’t spoken in years,” you reminded him. “The time for air clearing has long since passed.”

“We’ve known each other since we were six,” he said. “Can’t we be friends again?”

“I dunno…” you trailed off. “You really hurt me, Rog.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I hope you know how sorry I am.”

“Being sorry doesn’t change anything,” you said. “I think it’s best to leave the past where it is. I am your lawyer and you are my client and that’s it.”

“Y/N -” he began, reaching for you. 

“Don’t!” you cried, springing away. 

His eyes searched yours, and he found you unrelenting. 

“Don’t,” you repeated, quietly this time. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

Knowing himself to be dismissed, Roger turned and left the room. You let out a slow breath, relief washing over you. There was so much between you and Roger, but you had no desire to air it all out. You were perfectly happy to keep it inside and never deal with it.

“Y/N,” said your assistant, Jane. “Miss Thomas is here again. She’s demanding you take her case.”

Your shoulders slumped as you groaned. “Fuck it, might as well.”

You walked back to your office.

Roger arrived at the studio in a stormy mood. His bandmates knew he and Dominique were splitting, but they had never seen Roger like this. The three of them exchanged worried glances as the drummer started angrily adjusting his set.

“Rog?” questioned John. “How’d it go with the lawyers today?”

“She wouldn’t even talk to me!” Roger exclaimed. “It was ridiculous!”

Brian’s brow furrowed. “I thought Dominique wanted to talk. That was the whole point of getting representation.”

Roger sighed and let his drumstick slip between his fingers and clatter to the floor.

“No, not Dom,” he said. “My lawyer. It’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

The band all raised their eyebrows at that.

“Rog, darling, why on Earth would you choose her?” Freddie questioned. 

“I didn’t,” Roger returned. “I chose the firm because they’re reputation is amazing. I didn’t know she was working there, but her boss assigned her to my case because she’s got the most experience in divorce.”

The band was aware of Roger’s history with you because they had been there for the end of it. They also knew that Roger had never really forgotten you. Even though he never talked about you, if they recalled their uni days, he got this warm, fond little smile on his face. They knew his mind was on you because it was the same expression he used to wear each time you entered the room. Then his face would shift into that same, deep hurt he felt because you were no longer in his life.

“So when you say she wouldn’t talk to you,” John said. “You mean about anything other than your divorce.”

“Yeah,” Roger said. “I thought that if we’re going to be working together on this, we should settle things between us, but….”

“Surely, you understand,” Brian said. “You both went through a tough time after you split, and maybe it’s been long enough now that she feels like it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it matters,” Roger argued. “That’s why she won’t talk. It matters too much.”

Brian looked desperately at Freddie and John for something else to say, but they also had nothing. Up until now, they had thought there was no way you would ever see Roger again. The two of you lived in completely different worlds. But now, here you both were, colliding.

“Alright, mate,” John said. “Let’s forget about all that and just play, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” Roger agreed, snatching his stick up. “Let’s just fucking play.”

They continued setting up in silence before beginning their session.

At your office, you spent much of your morning trying to dissuade Miss Thomas from her ridiculous case against her employee, but you were unsuccessful. She was determined to sue him for thinking about having sex with her, so you were just going to have to take the case as far as you could. You consoled yourself that at least that meant it wouldn’t be long. Your afternoon was more open than usual, so you found your mind wandering back to Roger.

It had been nearly ten years since you had seen him. Since college. Before Queen was Queen. Seeing the success of the band had brought with it so many conflicting emotions. You didn’t hate Roger, so seeing him live out his dream made you so proud of him. But the constant reminder of the man who had broken your heart was a struggle. So, you stayed out of the music scene and avoided the topic in the news.

You didn’t even know that he had gotten married. That stung. You didn’t know why it stung, but probably because you had always thought you and he would….you shook your head.

“Y/N?” said Jane, knocking gently on your office door as she entered. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice cracking. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Well, I was just wondering because the day is over and you’re just sitting here staring at your desk,” she said. “We’re all going down to the bar. Wanna join?”

“Sure,” you replied.

You got to your feet and grabbed your coat and briefcase before following her to the elevator. 

Next door to your office building was a bar where you and your coworkers went to drink after the long hours of the day. It was a good way to unwind, since the singer and pianist who performed there regularly was very good. She usually performed covers and got people to dance, though that could also be alcohol induced. Anyway, it was always fun.

You came to the bar and joined Bill and the other lawyers who were already sitting at a table. You shot Bill another glare just to remind him you were angry.

“Relax, Y/N, I’ve made it up to you,” he said. “Already ordered your favorite, gin and tonic.”

“I hope this is the first of a multi-step apology,” you returned, taking your seat and sipping the drink.

“God, you’re demanding,” he teased. “How does Mark put up with you?”

Mark was your boyfriend. He was a sweet guy who loved his job as a doctor in a children’s ward at one of the larger London hospitals. He somehow stayed cheerful despite seeing some of what you considered the most depressing part of medicine. Children being ill.

“I’m just incredible in bed,” you shot back.

You and Bill laughed and you were one step closer to forgiving him. 

“Might the second part of my apology be a dance?” he asked, offering his hand.

“Sure,” you conceded, setting your drink down and taking it.

He led you onto the dance floor as the song was changing. You nearly let out a groan when she began to play “Tears on My Pillow.”

“You don’t remember me, but I remember you,” she began to sing. “Twas not so long ago, you broke my heart in two. Tears on my pillow, pain in my heart, caused by you, you.” 

“Look, Y/N, I don’t know the details of you and Roger Taylor’s relationship, and I don’t care to know them,” Bill said, distracting you from the music. “But I put you on that case because you’re not just the best at divorce. You’re the best associate attorney in that whole damn office, and I need you to do it.”

You held his gaze as you swayed to the music, shocked at this burst of earnest praise.

“I...yes, alright,” you said. “I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Good,” he replied. “Because nothing makes me angrier than wasted talent.”

“Except losing money,” you reminded him playfully.

“Oh, you know me better than I know myself,” he returned.

You continued to dance until the end of the song. On your way back to your table, a woman at the bar caught your eye. It was Dominique. There was a man beside her who was clearly unwelcome, and when she had your attention, she sent you a pleading expression. Without hesitating, you walked over.

“Dom!” you cried excitedly. “Oh my goodness, how are you?!”

“Hi, Y/N!” she replied. “It’s been ages!”

“I know,” you sighed dramatically. “Tell me what’s going on, love.”

“Um, excuse me,” the man interrupted. “I was speaking to Dominique.”

You shot him a nasty smile. “Yes, well, now I’m speaking to her.”

He looked to her and she shrugged.

“Sorry,” she said in a way that was not at all apologetic. “But we need to catch up. Have a good night.”

With an annoyed huff, he left. You started to leave too, but she grabbed your hand.

“No, not yet,” she said. “Otherwise he’ll know we’re faking.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” you said. “Although, I’m not sure Tim would be comfortable knowing we were speaking without him.”

You both giggled.

“God, he’s ridiculous, isn’t he?” she remarked.

“So ridiculous,” you agreed. “Why’d you hire him?”

“Because he’s effective,” she told you. “Even if he is absurd.”

A beat passed as the subject of Roger hovered between you like a dark cloud.

“Dom, I feel like I should explain -” you began but she cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “I know about you and Roger. He’s told me the stories. How you were childhood sweethearts and dated through college before he ended things.”

“I see,” you said, shifting uncomfortably. “I just hope it really is okay with you that I’m representing him.”

“Believe me, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ve been competing with you our entire marriage. Why should the divorce be any different?”

Your eyes widened as you gaped at her.

“I know he ended it, Y/N, but Roger has never stopped loving you,” she went on. 

“Well - that’s - I - Dominique, that’s just not true,” you said. “If he loved me, he -” you stopped yourself, swallowing a lump in your throat. “He wouldn’t have done...well, everything he’s done.”

“Believe it or don’t, Y/N,” she said with a sigh. “But what you two had is what most people wait a lifetime for. And he’s never forgotten.”

Another beat of silence passed. You had no idea how to even answer her.

“I’m gonna go,” she said. ���It’s getting late and I’ve got to put the kids to bed. See you Wednesday.”

She gathered her things, left some money on the counter, and slid out of the chair. You watched her go until she disappeared down the street. 

You left about an hour later when you and your co-workers were ready. Dominique’s words were stuck in your mind all the way home. Each step you took reinforced what you had heard. But it confused you. Roger couldn’t love you. There was no way. She had to be wrong.

You were just settling into your decision as you opened the door to your flat. Only, it wasn’t empty. Mark sat at your kitchen table, a cold dinner in front of him, a candle out of wax in the center of it, and another untouched plate across from him. A bottle of wine was out with two glasses served. Flowers that were already wilting were in his hand. He looked at you sourly.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said bitterly. “Happy fucking anniversary.”

[basementsushi]

Aurora - movie review

Movie: Sleeping Beauty (1959)

Would I recommend: No - the movie has some good moments, but overall it didn’t keep my interest. If I can’t relate to or don’t care about the main protagonist/antagonist in your movie you’ve got a problem. 

Had seen before: Yes (but couldn’t remember it)

Main movie, prequel, sequel, or midquel: Main movie

Theater or straight to video: Theater

Keep reading below for fun facts, my thoughts, and origin details (contains spoilers)!

Thoughts: 

They’re so rude to the blue fairy!

I feel like the fairies should be running an orphanage, they’re so sad they’re going to have to give Aurora back, and it seems like they loved raising her so much

Yikes, not a good sign that by the time we see the prince and his horse the horse is the most interesting character so far

Okay, the prince is more than a little creepy - he overhears Aurora singing and uses details from her song to get her to trust him and like him (a complete stranger). Also, this is Phillip, he was at least 8 (possibly older) when he met her as a baby, and she’s almost 16, he must be 24 (or older)!

Aurora is a bit of an idiot… she thinks she’s in love with someone she met once (she didn’t even give her name or get his!)

King Hubert is a butt! King Stefan is just excited to finally see his daughter after all these years, and Hubert is already pushing Aurora and Phillip to move away together

The music when Maleficent is luring Aurora away is so jarring, it fits the mood of the scene very well

The prince being ambushed at the cottage is the most interesting thing to happen in the movie (it’s the only bit that surprised me at all)

The fairies tell Phillip he will have to face the rest of the dangers himself (once they free him from the dungeon), then save him from the next four or five dangers with their magic - c’mon ladies, consistency!

Maleficent needs to get a hobby, she devoted almost two decades to revenge over an insult, and takes most of it out on people not even responsible for the original insult! (I prefer in the original tales where the “evil” fairy gives her curse and moves on with her life)

CHILDREN EXPLAIN TO YOUR PARENTS - Phillip’s dad is so confused and Phillip just ignores him, explaining nothing when he shows up with Aurora after having run off earlier

Why is no one questioning the dress repeatedly changing color?

Fun facts: 

Aurora is the only one of the official 12 that is a true blonde - Cinderella is a strawberry blonde, and Rapunzel is a natural brunette

Aurora is the only of the official 12 to have an abnormal eye color (her eyes are violet)

Once again a tale that has a Grimm and Perrault version! Disney draws from Perrault’s tale, but in my research I found not only Perrault’s tale of a sleeping beauty (“The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood”), but two others as well, an earlier tale (“Sun, Moon, and Talia” by Giambattista Basile), and a later tale (“Little Briar-Rose”, by the Grimm brothers). Imagine my surprise when reading them and realizing the Grimm version is the least dark of the three!

Origin: (Charles Perrault tale) In this tale a king and queen who desperately wanted children were overjoyed to finally have a baby girl. To celebrate a grand christening was held, and every fairy that could be found (seven in all) were invited to be godmothers. Beautiful settings were prepared for them, each was to be given a gold casket holding a spoon, fork, and knife, each made with gold and set with diamonds and rubies. Right as everyone was sitting down an old fairy arrived, one that had not been seen in so long most presumed her dead or bewitched.

The king immediately ordered another setting for her, but only seven golden caskets had been made, so she could not be given one. The old fairy, thinking she had been intentionally ignored, began to mutter threats to herself. One of the young fairies sitting near her heard her, and went to hide, so she could speak last and try to counteract anything the old fairy may do.

The fairies all gave beautiful gifts of talent and beauty to the princess, until the old fairy's turn. She declared that the young princess would prick her hand on a spindle and die. The last fairy, the one who had hidden, now came out to give her gift. She did not have the power to remove the curse, but was able to amend it, saying the princess would not die, but fall into a deep sleep, which would last 100 years, and at the end she would be awoken by a prince.

The king, hoping to avoid the horrible event, declared it was now forbidden, under threat of death, to use or keep a spinning wheel or spindle. Despite these efforts, when the princess was fifteen or sixteen and her parents were away she came upon an old woman in the castle spinning. Having never seen a spinning wheel she had no reason to fear it, and as soon as she went to touch it she pricked her finger and fell. Every effort was made to wake her, but it was no use. She was laid to rest in the finest room, upon a bed embroidered with gold and silver.

The fairy who had changed her curse soon arrived, and touched her wand to all in the castle except the king and queen, so that they were all frozen in time, only to awaken when their princess did, and all would be ready for her when she awoke. Shortly after the king and queen left the castle the fairy grew a forest thick with trees, brambles, and thorns around the castle, so that the princess would be safe and away from prying eyes.

A hundred years later the throne had been passed to a different family. One day while out hunting the king's son found the castle, and asked his attendants about it. Most told stories of evil magic, hauntings, or monsters, but one elderly attendant said her father told her that inside the castle lay a princess, who was waiting for a prince. This story emboldened the prince, and he decided to enter.

As soon as the prince approached the castle the thorns and brambles fell away. He made his way through the castle until he found the beautiful princess. Trembling he moved near her, and, the prince having come for her and the hundred years over, she awoke. Supper was soon prepared, and shortly after the meal was finished the prince and princess were married.

The next morning the prince returned to the city, and told his parents he had simply become lost in the forest for a time. His father believed him, but his mother was not fooled. She had noticed he was more often going hunting, and often spent nights away from home.

In the two years since their marriage the prince and princess had two children - the first a daughter, named "Dawn", the second a son, named "Day". All this time the queen was urging the prince to settle down or confide in her, but he was hesitant, as she came from a race of ogres (the king married her for her wealth), and was said to have a hard time resisting pouncing upon children. 

By the end of two years the king had died, and the prince found himself on the throne, at which time he publicly announced his marriage, and had his wife and children brought from the forest. Not long after the king declared war on his neighbor, and appointed his mother to rule and care for his family in his absence.

Not even a week had passed when the queen regent summoned her chief steward, telling him for supper the next day she would eat Dawn, with a piquant sauce. When the steward went to slaughter her (she was four by now) she ran to him, and he could not do it, and instead had her hidden. He served the queen regent a lamb instead, and she declared she had never eaten anything so good.

Eight days later the queen regent summoned the steward again, this time declaring she would eat Day (who was three by now). Day was hidden away, and the queen regent was served a young goat. She again said it was delicious, but her desires arose again soon, and she told the steward she wished to eat the princess, with the same sauce as her children.

The steward, not knowing what animal could substitute for her, made up his mind that to save his own life he must take hers. He faltered when he arrived in her chamber, and told her of the command he had been given. The princess (not knowing her children had been hidden) told him to do it, so that she may be reunited with her children. The poor steward, feeling compassion for her, told her she would be reunited with them, that they had simply been hidden away. He instead served the queen regent deer.

The queen regent, planning to tell the king wolves had eaten his family, felt quite satisfied. However, as she wandered the castle one evening she heard the cries of Day, and knew she had been lied to. She ordered a huge vat be brought to the courtyard and filled with snakes and serpents of all kinds so the princess, her children, and those who had lied to her could be thrown into it the next day.

As her servants were preparing to throw them in however the king returned (much sooner than expected). Surprised, he demanded to be told what was going on. No one dared tell him, and the queen regent, instead of confronting him, threw herself into the vat and was devoured instantly. The king was saddened, but soon found comfort and consolation in his beautiful wife and children.

[trustsalvatorewriting]

hold tight || tamaki suoh - chapter one

Summary: In which a politician’s daughter begrudgingly transfers to Ouran Academy

Word Count: 2,036

Preface | Chapter One

-

chapter one : out of element ❝ i feel very small. i don't understand. i have so much courage, fire, energy, for so many things. and yet, i get so hurt, so wounded by small things ❞

___________

"Perhaps I should have warned you about the uniform."

A light chuckle left Kyoya's lips when he was met with Kana's frightening glare. Her usually slender figure was covered up by a pastel yellow school uniform. She grunted and pulled at the puffy sleeves, muttering, "I have been dressed by Versace himself, and you stuff me into this monstrous uniform. I look like a pastry."

Kyoya rolled his eyes, ignoring the death glare she had sent his way. There were times when it felt as though being in her presence was no different from being in the presence of a very angry goddess. The goddess of death, perhaps. Her porcelain skin and obsidian features would surely fit the bill. But then, his nickname at Ouran Academy had been "The Shadow King." Surely commoners such as Haruhi Fujioka viewed him the same way he saw Kana Kadenokiji.

"You have far more important matters to attend to than your outfits. The drive to the school will be about thirty minutes. I can walk to you to class when we arrive."

The girl only hummed, turning her head and pressing her head against the window. She and Ootori were only a few days apart, birthday wise, so it was no surprise they'd ended up in the same class. She knew she would have an adjustment period. There was a vast difference between having to see Ootori every week and seeing him everyday.

It would be a welcome distraction, though. It would be refreshing to see a life outside the walls of her bedroom. She swallowed the lump in her throat, fingers gripping her yellow skirt. "Are there any updates?"

Kana watched a look of remorse cross Ootori's face, and she wished she'd never asked. "None."

"I asked you for this one thing--"

"Your brother is a fifteen-year-old boy who ran into the woods in broad daylight. He couldn't have gotten far, so please, let my family handle this," He responded.

She motioned for the driver to shut the partition, turning her attention back to her dress. It had taken a full week for her to completely transfer her files to Ouran. When she'd arrived, she was presented with a tour of the pink European-esque architecture. It was beautiful, to say the least. She was sure the only thing she would have to worry about was getting lost.

Her eyes landed on the diamond encrusted ring around her finger, and she remembered the club activities Ootori involved himself in. He'd mentioned it briefly, as though he were asking her rather than telling her. Truthfully, she couldn't have cared less; but she supposed she would have to, now that she was attending the same school as he. She wondered if he'd ever spoken of it to his colleagues.

"You don't have to take it off if you aren't comfortable with it," Kyoya explained, as though reading her mind. "No one at the school is aware of our engagement except those who put effort into researching each of the students. It's public record, so there isn't any point in hiding it. And most of my work at the Host Club consists of finances and advertising, so there's no problem there."

"I thought you were supposed to be the Cool Type."

"You don't think so?"

A sigh left her mouth. "I am going to be your wife, Ootori. I think whatever you want me to think."

Equals. It had been an unspoken agreement between the two that they would treat each other as equals, and nothing less. They were each brilliant in their own way, they would each have their own roles to fulfill within the business. Still, that never stopped the uneasy feeling that rested in Kana's stomach. The feeling that one day, Ootori would surpass her in her own game, and she would become Ootori Kana: wife of the CEO of Kadenokiji Industries. Nothing less, and unfortunately, nothing more.

Thirty minutes passed in complete silence. Ootori was writing in his little black book, and Kana spent the remainder of the travel staring out the window. Every so often, she would catch a glimpse of Jun, hiding in plain sight; but she would blink, and the image would be distorted. It would be a boy with skin that too tall to have been Jun, or perhaps too skinny, or perhaps too happy.

Kyoya had requested that they be dropped off at the back of the school, stating that it was a much easier route to the classroom they would need to get to. Kana glanced down at her schedule and sighed. These classes couldn't have been much harder than the ones she'd been given at home.

"These classes are going to be much harder than the ones you've been given at home," Kyoya stated, opening the door on his side of the car and reaching for his bag. "You're going to need some time to adjust, but I assure you, you'll be alright."

She narrowed her eyes at the Shadow King. He hadn't mentioned anything about rigorous schoolwork -- come to think of it, he hadn't mentioned anything about schoolwork. Most of his arguments consisted of Japanese education and distractions. Not five minutes and she already found herself missing her Parisian tutor, Emilie. She'd had an odd name and her Japanese hadn't been perfect, but she might have preferred the familiarity to whatever nonsense awaited her.

Emilie had taught her English, French, and Latin. She'd been the kindest of Kana's three tutors, and even when she'd been harsh, it had been hard to stay angry at her. The girl was of Indian descent and had stood at 5'2" with sweet brown eyes and a warm smile. Snapping at her had made Kana felt as though she'd kicked a small kitten.

Jinwoo had taught her maths and sciences -- and by default, Korean, as he refused to speak in Japanese. This had been something Kana forced herself to becoming accustomed to, assuming that he hadn't known how to speak Japanese or English. She learned three years later that the old man was fluent in Japanese, English, Mandarin, and Swiss.

Rosita had been her music teacher -- or musical warlord. She'd used extreme methods in her efforts to teach Kana the violin. The lessons stopped when she turned fifteen and her father noticed light bruising on her left hand. They never spoke of it.

If the classes at Ouran Academy were more extreme than the ones she'd taken at home, she swore to herself she would call her driver to bring her home within the first hour.

Kyoya had gone out of his way to lead Kana to her classroom, speaking to her despite the cold aura she seemed to radiate. He spoke of the founders of Ouran Academy, the subjects, he'd even gone out of his way to mention the Host Club. He was well aware she had no interest in learning any of this, but he would take comfort in knowing she was well-informed.

"The teacher was previously a professor in Tokyo. I can give you a copy of his file so you're aware of his credentials."

"No, thank you." Kana stopped at the door of the classroom and took a breath. As she stepped into the busy classroom, it occurred to her why her father had invested so much money into home-schooling her and her brother. The teenagers in front of her were no better than heathens.

She wondered how many of them would know who she was. Whether or not they would approach her, and she rehearsed the cutting lines she would respond with in her head. Kana made her way through the classroom, taking a seat three rows from the back -- one seat away from Ootori. Her eyes shifted to the black-haired boy, who stood at the doorway speaking to an eccentric blond male. The corner of her lip switch as she watched Ootori deadpan at the boy's eccentric movements.

'That must be Suoh, then,' She thought to herself. Ootori would mention him every now and then -- mostly to vent about what an idiot he was. Still, Ootori seemed to treasure their friendship, and she wondered if he was as interesting as Ootori had described him. 'The Host Club's king,' she recalled.

The group of students fell into silence as the professor entered, and everyone scattered to their seats. Suoh took the seat behind Kana, and it occurred to her that she should have checked the surrounding seats before choosing.

Despite Ootori's warnings, the professor was rather liberal in his teachings. He was kind, extending a hand to Kana as he asked her to introduce herself. When she respectfully declined, she felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned, she was met with Suoh's strange violet irises.

"Hello, Princess. My name is Tamaki Suoh. It's a pleasure to have you here." He took a hold of Kana's hand, placing a kiss to her knuckles. "I assume you've heard of me?"

"Tamaki, please take your hands off Miss Kadenokiji," Ootori sighed, already exasperated at his antics.

Kana glanced at him, amused that he hadn't been able to last ten minutes at Ouran Academy without breaking his façade. He'd always been so composed during their meetings. Was it Suoh that was able to bring it out of him? If so, how far would she be able to push him?

"It's nice to meet you," Kana replied to Suoh, slipping her hand out of his grasp. When the smile fell from his face, she added, "Ootori has mentioned you quite a bit."

Ootori glared at her through his glasses, and Suoh threw himself at him, yelling praises about how much he loved him and how he always knew they were meant to be friends. Mischief danced in Kana's dark eyes as she turned her attention back to the professor. She had always known how to play her cards correctly. It was no wonder why her father had chosen her to be his heir.

"Mommy dear, I always knew you cared for me! Why, it's no wonder, after all. My blond hair and light features compliment yours, perfectly! You are the moon to my sun. I am the stars in your sky. We are perfect for each other!"

Kyoya cleared his throat. "Tamaki, shouldn't you be focusing on making Miss Kadenokiji more comfortable? It is her first day at Ouran Academy."

"Ah, yes. So, tell me!" The extravagant French boy turned his attention to the girl, leaning so far over his desk that, if the laws of physics had applied, he would have fallen. "Why did such a beautiful girl like yourself transfer to Ouran Academy?"

"Because I wanted to," Kana responded simply, doing her best to focus on the lesson.

"You know, I've heard about you and your family."

Kana stiffened, her grasp tightening on the fountain pen between her fingers. Surely he wouldn't bring up her brother's disappearance in such a public place. Information such as that could be used for blackmail. There was no use if he was going to announce it in the middle of a classroom, and why wasn't the professor interfering? Surely this has to be against school policy. No one else is talking. Was this a daily issue? Had they gotten so used to it that they didn't bother cutting him off?

"All of you are just so beautiful. Tell me, do you get your beauty from your mother or your father?" Suoh flirted, while Ootori simply copied down his notes. "I'm sorry, I can't help but ask. I've never seen a beauty quite like yours, Princess Kana."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, ignoring the ink puddles that were now staining her paper. Perhaps attending a school in which everyone knew who she was, wasn't her best distraction after all.

[garden-of-paper]

The Sentinels of Downroe

Arisen from ashes came The Sentinels of Downroe. A once glorious empire revered for their strong warriors, bards, forgesmiths, and diverse traditions. Their kind was widespread across the Ashfall Wastes in ancient days. Their sharp wit-- and claws-- made the empire one of the front lines for battle in the war against the other flights. Vast territories were filled with Downroe Banescales, with sentinel towers lining every border, and cities that would make even the Lightweaver blush. For a long time they lived in peace. Celebrating their festivals, playing songs, and decorating their city with the most colorful of tapestries, with many none the wiser to what happened outside their massive iron walls. Yet it couldn't last forever, and when the land ruptured in the great reform, many were lost deep in the earth. Others were fossilized underground, forgotten from the world like the many others of their kind. Those that survived were just a few members from the lower council and some of their finest guards. Until the awakening.

After the Bounty shook the earth and ancients started rising, so too did they. Not only did Banescales hatch from long forgotten eggs, but many-- like Downroe-- rose from the ashes the Flamecaller left behind. Waking with such power and anger they started to ravage the land. However, their ancient magic was no match for modern weaponry.

The new council of Downroe gathered and forged their plan. From the earthen depths, their spellcasters brought forth ancient scrolls from the dawn of dragonkind. Ones that the Flamecaller thought she had burned every last trace of. This powerful magick, passed down through generations of elder ancients, was magick to be of use even now. The council of Downroe agreed they would draw back and wait until everything calmed, and then their plan would begin. Soon the Banescales had quelled their fire and most settled into new, comfortable lives. A wary peace once again fell over Sornieth.

In the dead of night came their opening. Eris-- the High Warlord-- ordered their militia to descend upon the scarred wastes-- their target a large, ancient grove blooming near the Wyrmwound. Their scouts confirmed it days back. The clan living there was sick, starving, and weak. No amount of magic or lush territory could change it. The land awoke at their assault. It fought back-- to the surprise of the army-- but even the very living earth was no match for their determined forces and old magick. Beaten, the clan of Runach surrendered, and was spared. The council came forward and offered them a choice. Join their cause as equals, or work under them to serve the spread of their new empire. Some dragons agreed wholeheartedly. Others, while nervous, caved and agreed. Many stayed defiant and refused to take the breed changing magic. But, they agreed to stay and work, not wishing to upset the ones they used to call family. Agreeing to meet halfway, the Banescales kept their new ranks heavily guarded in camps, and begun to build their city.

Walls and forts were built over the course of many moons. More and more Banescales came to them for shelter, and joined their cause as helping hands. Alchemists, tailors, botanists, divers, and more. Now armed with a plethora of new occupations in their ranks the empire grew. Soon the entirety of the ancient grove was surrounded by their walls, hidden from eyes. Three circular walls, to be exact. The innermost circle was reserved for anyone in the lower council or above. The second ring, reserved for the army and subsequent workers, such as the scientists. On the outermost ring lived the citizens and Downroe's non-banescale recruits. Stationed on the outer walls are the sentinel's, on watch for any danger. The empire is named after them for their bravery on the front lines of defense.

They set to work cultivating the grove and using it for research. All the while teaching others about their old traditions in hopes to celebrate them again. Their new forgesmiths began crafting, and updating their old plans. Whilst their generals trained new warriors, witches, bards, and various other ranks for their army. What was left of the Runach clan was sent to the outer ring of Downroe to live among the citizens. They were granted permission to open their own cafe to cope with their new way of life, on the condition they'd be advertising to make the empire seem friendly to wandering dragons, and the agreement that a guard would be routinely checking in on them. Occasionally the Banescales themselves hang out there with them.

The Sentinels of Downroe continue to grow their assets even now, wishing to regain their lost treasure and land. Eris, believing herself to be the most capable warrior of them all, elected herself as acting empress to see this end goal through, and is willing to tear apart anyone that stands in the way of sending her people to greatness.

[themurphyzone]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Oneshot: Starlight

So this was the prologue to a multichapter PMD fic that will never be written, though I spent quite a bit of time creating the characters. This oneshot was sitting on my computer for several months, I just thought I’d share this with the Internet.

Summary: A lonely rich girl named Luna has been best friends with Penny the Meowth for years. But when Luna receives a series of strange dreams, she makes a decision that will change their lives forever. 

AO3 Link

Penny nuzzled her human’s cheek, mewing helplessly as Luna succumbed to another nightmare. Not for the first time, she wished she could learn Dream Eater so she could take away the pain, the torment, the guilt that persisted in Luna’s eyes during the day.

Her human cried out, almost flinging Penny off her chest as she rolled onto her side and curled into a tiny ball. Her entire body was wracked with tension, and Penny stifled the instinctive rumble building in her throat.

Purring didn’t work. Luna would just think Penny was another Meowth crying for help. Purring was supposed to bring comfort, but now it just added to Luna’s stress.

Penny didn’t understand what brought the nightmares, nor was she privy to the content. Luna was tight-lipped and quiet on her best days, though Penny could easily bring out a giggle or two if she just batted a Poké Ball around.

If she listened too closely, she heard whispers of catastrophic floods, devastating earthquakes, and the faraway pleas of countless Pokémon who didn’t understand why their world was being torn asunder.  

“I’m sorry…” Luna whimpered, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. “I don’t understand…”

Penny unsheathed her claws, lightly tracing the tips against Luna’s arm. Not hard to enough bleed, but just so Luna could feel the pricks and come back to reality. She left light, barely visible trails across Luna’s skin, withdrawing as Luna’s chest gave a sudden heave. Then Luna broke into a coughing fit, catapulting into a sitting position. A pillow and Clefairy doll fell from the bed, landing on the carpeted floor with a muffled thump.

Through a thin sliver of light in the bedroom, Penny saw the terror turn to relief in Luna’s eyes. Luna sighed, her breath hitching as she slumped forward and pressed her head against her knees, face hidden through a curtain of dark hair.

Penny retrieved the Clefairy doll and pressed it into Luna’s side.

“Thanks,” Luna whispered. She placed the doll in her lap and scratched behind Penny’s ear.

Penny released the purr she’d held back, resting her head on top of Luna’s other hand. Focusing on the vibrations of her throat, she tried to imagine a calming wave flowing into her human, though she didn’t know any healing moves.

Eventually, Luna’s breathing evened out. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting at the edge for a brief moment before standing up, the Clefairy doll clutched tightly in her arms.

Without a word, Luna crossed the length of her enormous bedroom and flung the curtains open, allowing more moonlight to filter in. Then she settled against the cushioned windowsill and stared out into the night sky.

Penny jumped onto the windowsill, nudging the Clefairy doll aside so there was room for both of them on Luna’s lap.  

“She doesn’t make sense,” Luna murmured. “A role to play…it means something, but I don’t get it. What role can I play when I’m locked in here?”

Penny bristled, hissing in frustration at the reminder of being a secret companion for a secret girl. Luna’s parents were important figures in some organization Penny didn’t care to remember the name of. Luna was unknown by the world beyond the manor grounds. And while Penny was allowed to stay in the manor, she knew Luna’s parents viewed her as a means to keep Luna compliant and out of the way.

Her parents certainly didn’t expect Penny and Luna to bond so quickly, but as long as Luna never expressed a desire to explore the world, they wouldn’t complain.

Luna loved stars and legends and Pokémon.

But she never experienced them for herself when so many others could. She was stuck with books, television, and the stars she could see from her windowsill.

Luna opened the window and a gentle wind blew into the room, chasing away the stifled air.

“The stars are so beautiful, Penny. See that cluster next to the moon? We have a clear view of the Perished Ones tonight,” Luna said, pointing to a group of stars that held some sort of pattern to her, but none to Penny. A breeze gently blew strands of long hair away from Luna’s face.

Her eyes sparkled, holding no traces of the haunted look she’d wandered around with for the past month.

A Meowth’s instincts were drawn to sparkling things, to hoard them and never let them go, and Penny was no exception. She held Luna’s gaze, waiting for her to continue.

“Long ago, a tower was struck by lightning and caught fire, which was then quelled with a cleansing rain. But not before three Pokémon perished in the flames. Ho-Oh revived them with his sacred ashes, and they were reborn as Beasts who roam the land. It’s said that Ho-Oh gave the remnants of the Beasts’ old lives to a deity with power over the stars, and she hung them in the night sky as a reminder of that fateful night. The trio of constellations became known as the Perished Ones.”

It was the most she’d said in a month.

Luna rested her head against her knees again. The contemplative look returned.

“Ho-Oh gave them new roles,” Luna whispered. “He cleansed their spirits and bodies so they could rule over lightning, volcanoes, and the north wind with no regrets.”

Though Penny only considered it a legend, it was clear that Luna was putting much more thought into the story than was necessary. She mewed in displeasure, pawing at Luna’s face so she would focus on petting the itchy spot that Penny could never reach no matter how much she twisted while grooming.

Luna gave a tiny smile, scratching Penny’s back until she fell asleep once more.

They slept peacefully for the rest of the night.  

o-o-o-o-o

For once, Luna’s parents were home. But since they preferred to be left undisturbed by both staff and daughter unless there was an emergency, Penny and Luna rarely saw them. Because they had a reputation for firing staff for the slightest indiscretions and hammering them with lawsuits if they talked, nobody was keen on facing her parents’ wrath.

Until now.

Out of self-preservation, Penny did everything she could to dissuade Luna from an audience with her parents. Just as she was debating the pros and cons of knocking her human down and sitting on her until she got the message, Luna crossed the high archway that marked the parlor entrance and stood in front of the Master and Mistress of the Silano household.

Penny swallowed, but padded onto the expensive Kalosian rug that nobody was ever allowed on and wound her tail around Luna’s legs for moral support. Luna glanced down for the briefest moment, then returned her attention to her parents, who were still discussing some trivial matter.

“-Mr. A wants more funding towards the research department. Their top scientist believes he’s found a faster method that will boost a captured Pokémon’s power a hundredfold,” Master Silano explained with a long-suffering sigh, though Penny couldn’t tell if it was directed at Luna or his wife.

“About time,” Mistress Silano said, her manicured nails tapping at the couch impatiently. “He should’ve improved the field equipment a long time ago. Why waste time on common Caterpie when they could have the power of a Legendary?”

“You know he wants to maintain his reputation, Catherine,” Master Silano said. “It’s better to keep these sorts of activities under the radar.”

They ignored their daughter completely, and Penny knew Luna was having second and possibly third thoughts about her plan.

Luna stiffened, but she balled her fists and forced the words out of her throat. “Mother. Father. I’m interested in getting a Drowzee. I’ve been doing some research, and-“

Mistress Silano huffed. “A Drowzee! As if that mangy furball wasn’t enough for you!”

She glared at Penny as if offended by her very existence. But Penny lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to be cowed. After all, she was a prideful Meowth, loyal to those who earned her trust and uncaring about those who didn’t.  

“Mother, please.” Luna’s voice quivered. Penny’s tail tightened around Luna’s legs. “I’ve done some research. Drowzee can sense and eat people’s dreams. They can even project the eaten dreams to anyone they trust. It…would be interesting.”

Penny disliked the Drowzee idea, but for Luna’s sake she kept the bouts of jealousy to herself. They both knew Dream Eater was their best shot at understanding the nightmares, but Penny wished that didn’t involve getting another Pokémon since she was meant to be Luna’s constant companion.

“We allowed you to keep that stray Meowth as long as you took responsibility for it. You don’t need another Pokémon.” Master Silano didn’t look up from the stack of papers. “You will not be gallivanting around Kanto doing whatever you want. One Meowth is sufficient for your needs.”

“I’m…I’m only asking for a Drowzee,” Luna said. She tried to copy Penny’s haughty act, but couldn’t keep her head up under Mistress Silano’s scrutiny. “Nothing more.”

“You heard your father,” Mistress Silano snapped, dismissing them with a lazy flick of her wrist. Several golden bracelets clinked with the movement. “Leave us. We have important business to discuss. Later, we will talk about this rebel behavior of yours. I assure you it will not be tolerated again.”

On the verge of tears, Luna spun on her heel and stormed away, abandoning her usual caution in favor of stomping on the floorboards. A rebellious act that would surely add on to her troubles, but Luna didn’t seem to care.

Penny flattened herself to the ground, slinking quietly behind Luna until they reached the modest dining room next to the kitchen. It was their favorite place to take meals. They avoided the large, lonely dining hall the Master and Mistress preferred.  

“It’s not fair, Penny!” Luna cried. Penny’s ears flattened as Luna scraped the legs of her chair against the floor. She fell into her seat and slammed her head into the table. “Is understanding my nightmares really too much to ask?”

Penny jumped onto the table, not caring if she was allowed on the furniture or not. If they found her pawprints on the polished wood, so be it. Compared to the demands Luna had to put up with, obtaining a Drowzee was a perfectly reasonable request.

Penny rolled onto her belly and mewed pathetically. She hadn’t needed these deliberately vulnerable positions to garner sympathy and food since she was taken in, but it was the only thing she could think of.

But Luna didn’t move.

Penny’s fur bristled along her spine. She yowled at the top of her lungs and startled Luna, who jumped to her feet with an expression that would’ve been comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

“Don’t do that, Penny!” Luna shouted, her eyes blazing. “You have no idea what I’m going through!”

A growl escaped Penny’s throat. These dreams terrified her human and nobody else was aware. That’s all she needed to know.

They glared daggers into each other. Penny flexed her claws against the wood, leaving shallow scratchmarks behind.

Then a knock on the side door broke their concentration.

“Ms. Luna, are you feeling alright?” Michael called, his polite voice soothing as always. He opened the door as far as it would allow with the chain attached. He was an elderly man, tall and well-groomed, and he was the only other person in the manor Penny liked. “Do you require anything for yourself or Ms. Penny?”

Despite herself, Luna couldn’t help but laugh. Penny casually licked her paw and drew it over her ear, trying to appear nonchalant about being called ‘Ms. Penny’, but mostly she was just happy about Luna smiling for the first time in several weeks.

“I think we could use a light snack to settle our nerves,” Luna admitted.

Penny meowed in agreement, licking her lips at the promise of her favorite berries.

Michael unlatched the chain and stepped into the kitchen, nodding politely at Penny before pulling out ingredients and equipment for a light fruit parfait.

“I assume your audience didn’t go well,” Michael said, carefully dicing several strawberries with a practiced hand.

Luna filled a water bowl for Penny and grabbed a glass of juice for herself. “They didn’t listen to me. But it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t have said those things, Penny. I’m sorry.”

Penny purred, rubbing her cheek against Luna’s arm. Then she settled in front of her bowl, eager to quench her thirst.

“Ms. Luna, forgive my curiosity, but what reason do you have for staying here? You have a Pokémon. Most children these days would leave home the moment they’re of legal age for an official license.”

“My parents would hunt me down if I left. You know that, Michael,” Luna said. “Penny and I would be on the run constantly. I can’t make her commit to that.”

Penny scowled. Of course she would commit! She had claws and fangs for a reason.

Michael chuckled as he set the finished parfaits in front of Luna and Penny. “Ms. Penny seems to disagree.”

“She likes to contradict me,” Luna muttered, swirling the blueberries around with a spoon.

“It sounds as if fear is your only reason,” Michael mused. “But you were also courageous enough to request a Pokémon from your parents. Many staff members never would’ve confronted them directly.”

Luna dropped her spoon on the table. Yogurt splattered onto her sleeve, but Luna didn’t seem to care. She whipped around and stared at Michael in surprise.

“You think I’m brave?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Michael shook his head. He took a napkin and dabbed at the yogurt on Luna’s sleeve. “No, Ms. Luna. Bravery can easily turn to folly, and I know you’re not a fool. But I believe you display true courage when the situation arises. You found Penny as a critically injured stray who’d happened to wander into the garden, and you nursed her back to health.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Luna said. “You were the one who took care of her.”

“You don’t wear self-defeat well. It’s not a matter of who took care of Ms. Penny’s needs, but rather that you chose to help her at all despite knowing your parents would disapprove. I would dare call that an act of true courage.”

“True courage…” Luna murmured. She finished the last of her parfait, giving the empty bowl to Michael.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

Penny swiped the blueberry juice off her mouth, adding her own questioning meow to Michael’s worried tone.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Luna smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Michael.”

Penny followed Luna out of the kitchen. Her ears twitched at the running water and tinkling of dishes behind her.

“Likewise…”

Only Penny caught the sadness in his voice.

o-o-o-o-o

Luna wasn’t changing into her pajamas. And she always changed into her pajamas before reading a story to Penny.

Penny narrowed her eyes. There was an odd lilt in Luna’s voice, like she wasn’t enthusiastic about the story tonight. She was lost in her own mind, somewhere Penny couldn’t ever reach.

“’Awakened, the human dons the Pokémon hide to roam villages.’” Luna finished Sinnoh Folk Tales, then put it back on the shelf. She trailed her hand over the book covers, hesitating over a frayed photo of herself and Penny.

The camera had been nothing but a cheap disposable, but the maid who’d taken the photo was kind enough to get the picture developed somewhere. Shame she’d been fired. She’d made the tastiest poffins that Penny had eaten in her life.

Penny closed her eyes and burrowed into the blankets, leaving nothing except the tips of her ears poking out. She placed a paw over her face, flicking her ears as a light laugh filled the room.

But the atmosphere soon grew somber again.

Under the covers, Penny took deep breaths to fool Luna into believing she was asleep. She’d get to the bottom of this, no matter how much her human believed it was her burden to bear.

A Meowth never let anything escape her claws.  

“Penny…I-I’m…” Luna’s voice faltered. “Please understand.”

Her footsteps sounded faintly on the rug, thudded against the floorboards, and slapped against the tile until the sound faded away completely.

Penny’s ears swiveled to the door, listening for Luna’s soft, cautious steps.

Five minutes passed, the Hoothoot clock marking every agonizing second with a faint click.  

Her human just wanted a glass of water. That was all. She shouldn’t worry.

But the doubtful voice in her head told her otherwise.

Soon the waiting grew unbearable, and Penny finally threw off the blankets and stalked out the bedroom door. Her skilled paws slid over the ornate rug, but she had no time to be proud over the abilities she’d honed because of her humble beginnings.

Learn where to find food and water. Learn who to avoid. The two most basic rules of the wild.

Luna and Michael were good humans. Avoid the Master and Mistress. The rest of the staff were a gamble, though better moods generally meant less trouble.  

Penny crept downstairs, then ran for cover behind a couch at the clack of a high heel behind her.

Luna’s dark hair streamed behind her as she moved into the garden of red lilies. Penny heard Luna’s ragged breaths, smelled her fear, but her steps never wavered. She lifted her face to the stars above.

“I’m ready, Gardevoir. Please guide me and test my resolve if I’m truly destined to be your world’s hero.”

A shimmering blue portal opened before Luna. She stepped through it, leaving no trace of her existence behind.

And Penny cried under an endless canopy of stars.

End AN:So planned concepts: Luna would’ve gone to the world of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, specifically Rescue Team. She gets transformed into a Skitty and teams up with a Charmander named Sunny, who’s the son of the Charizard on Team ACT. There would’ve been a concurrent plot with Penny dealing with the fallout of Luna’s disappearance from her world as well. Overall, the concept was fun to create, but it was too ambitious for me. 

But I hope you found this enjoyable regardless. 

[bangtiddies]

The Other Sunflower (Part One)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader, side Vmin Genre: Angst, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Hybird AU (kinda?), Dystopian Sci Fi (kinda?) Rating: PG15 Words: 2.8k Warnings: mentions of death, child neglect, anxiety, and panic attacks

Summary: When sunflowers are grown too close together, they'll compete and won't mature fully. Yoongi, grown too close to you, was taken away from you so you can reach full maturity. Now, after escaping from the garden, you try to find out what happened to Yoongi.

Note: This is my Bouquet Days gift for @shadowsremedy!! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to write and post this but I hope you love it! 🥺 I tried to incorporate the things you mentioned into this fic so it might be one genius plot or a big clusterfuck. We’ll find out 😉 Also a massive thank you for @mikroparadise​ for reading this fic and giving me the validation I need and to all my fellow writers across different network servers who helped me with research!

You don’t remember much of your childhood other than blurred memories of the sun, wires connected to your body, and isolation. What you do remember clearly, however, is the young boy you spent time with.

They tried to erase your memories of him. From the wires they connected to the stickers on your brain, they wanted you to forget. But in moments of darkness, when the sun wasn’t enough for you, you would remember the other sunflower in The Garden. The other sunflower they released because he was no longer useful to them.

When you asked for him after he was taken away, they told you that if sunflowers are growing too close to each other, they’d compete and not reach full maturity. That he had to be removed. In hushed whispers while you were pretending to be asleep, they talked about how he was ‘not needed’. You were all they needed. The only sunflower growing in The Garden.

It was lonely being the only sunflower. They wouldn’t let you mingle with the poppies or the roses. The curious daisies and buttercups would try to talk to you, only to be shooed away by them. You grew up in isolation. And when the moon shone through the windows of your room, your dome, your lab, the memories of your playful childhood with the other sunflower would start to materialise in the room around you.

Around you, versions of the younger you play with versions of the other sunflower, chasing each other around the room. Secrets shared in hushed whispers when he'd sneak out of his tube in the dome to talk to you under the stars and moonlight.

When you finally fell asleep, those memories would disappear with the sunrise. They would wake you up when the sun was shining through the dome to do more tests on your body. To force your body to reach the best it possibly could. They had high expectations for you. Their only sunflower.

Running away from The Garden wasn't a choice that had crossed your mind.

But, after you had reached your maturity, you stumbled upon the file in the office right next to your dome. The office was empty, the staff member who was usually there had gone to get lunch. They trusted you too much, thinking that your curious nature was gone. That your memories of the other sunflower were erased. Now that you were fully mature, they trusted you to be their willing tool.

The file showed information of the other sunflower. Flicking through it, you read that the other sunflower was deposited in a city not too far away from The Garden. You continued to look through the file, searching for any more information that would help you. You reached the back of the file and you found it. An address. A name you had forgotten.

Min Yoongi.

Your curious nature got the best of you. You had no reason to stay in The Garden. You had no close friends, no motivation to stay there as their tool. You wanted to find the only thing that gave you light.

And at night, you slip out of The Garden. It was too easy.

Without looking back, you head toward the city to find Min Yoongi.

To find the other sunflower.

The city is a lot different to the images you've seen in books, having only seen the big buildings and bright pretty lights. The city is overwhelming, people and vehicles everywhere, your years in isolation making you realise that you lack in any kind of social skills. Sunflowers are supposed to be pretty and stand tall in the sun. You never had any lessons on how to communicate with people. Now that you think about it, other than the other sunflower, you hardly talked to anyone in The Garden at all.

Finding the address is difficult - navigating the city was different to what you had expected. Your pride in your navigation skills from the tests you had to take diminishes in the bustling streets of the city. But after a few hours of taking wrong turns and using the map of the city you found in the cabinets of the office, you finally found the address you were looking for.

The building of the address is old, the stone walls covered in vines and morning glories. The flowers tell you that they took over the building, giggling to each other about their plan to cover the whole street. A sign above the door of the building writes a word that you wish you knew about before you found the address.

Orphanage.

Your heart sinks at the word, your realisation that the other sunflower was probably discarded somewhere that was convenient because he was no longer useful to The Garden. You doubt that he would be here, knowing well enough that if you're a matured flower, he would be too. Still, you knock on the door, in hopes that you'd find more information about the other sunflower.

You wait a few minutes in anticipation, before the door is slowly opened by a curious young girl with doe eyes. She stares at you with wide eyes, a mixture of excitement and fear in them.

"Hello," you give her a smile. "Is there an adult I can speak to here?"

She nods, staring at you for a little while longer as if she's analysing you before scurrying away. You ask the morning glories if they can hear discussions going on inside.

She told an older woman that you're a pretty lady. You sunflowers always know how to please people.

You smile to yourself at the morning glory's words, just as an older woman walks to the door.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asks you, looking you up and down.

One of the morning glories tells you, they don't get enough adopters here. They're probably wondering if you're here to adopt a child.

You try not to let your smile falter. You want to. The young girl looks so excited that you might be here to adopt her and your heart almost breaks that you have to bring that excitement down. Still, you keep the smile on your face, ready to charm the older woman into telling you about what you came here for - the other sunflower.

"Hello, I'm looking for an old friend of mine and the information I found tells me that he was once here."

The young girl's excitement drops a little, but she still continues to look at you with such awe. You hope that you're not using your charm too much.

You are, one of the morning glories whisper.

Another one says, who are you looking for?

"Sure, what's his name," the older woman asks, charmed by your smile, returning it with a kind smile.

"Min Yoongi," you say, answering both her question and the one from the morning glory.

The morning glories gasp. The older woman's jaw drops a little before she composes herself.

"Come in," she says quietly, opening the door wider to invite you in.

We heard about Min Yoongi from our mothers, the morning glories say as you walk into the orphanage. He's a bad sunflower.

You wonder what they mean by 'bad sunflower' while you follow the older woman to the door of what seems to be an office. The young girl follows the two of you before she's stopped by another woman, this one younger than the older woman, whom you're assuming is the lead caregiver of this orphanage.

"C'mon, Daisy. It's supposed to be your bedtime," the younger caregiver says, picking the young girl up. You give the girl a small smile as she's whisked away by the woman.

The lead caregiver opens the door to the office, and she invites you into the room. You walk in, the older woman closing the door to the office before moving to the desk. You look around the room, the lack of wallpaper in the building unnerving to you. There's an uncovered light bulb hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Three small windows are placed on two sides of the square room and the lack of curtains shows you glimpses of the city through the many vines and morning glories. The room looks nothing like an office, and more like an unfurnished room in the midst of renovation.

"You might not like what I'm about to show you," she says, grabbing a file from the first drawer of the desk and handing it to you. You accept it, giving her a grateful smile, feeling the rough texture of the yellowing cardboard file before sitting down on the small wooden chair in front of the desk and opening it. There seems to be a few documents in there but the first one catches your attention. It's a newspaper article.

Local gang fights lead to deaths of young men.

The article is recent, dated a year ago. You look through the names of the suspected deaths before your eyes land on one.

Min Yoongi.

Tears prickle at your eyes as your hands shake, gripping the sides of the file. The light bulb in the room turns off. Shadows from the lights outside that filtered through the small windows start to overtake the room as the brightness of the room disappears. The shadows whispering to you, asking you to give them physical forms. The lead caretaker mumbles something about a power cut but you don't hear her. All you can think about is the despair that you'll never see the other sunflower again. The morning glories outside start yelling at you, telling you to SNAP OUT OF IT!!

Small arms wrap themselves around you as the light in the room suddenly turns back on. You take your eyes off the file to turn to the body wrapped around you to see the young girl from before. Daisy.

"Don't let the Shadows take over," she whispers to you.

And then you realise. You realise why she's been looking at you with such curious eyes. Not only was she expecting for an adopter but she saw who you were underneath the skin of a normal human being. The young girl, she's like you -- a Flower. A daisy. But she's a little different to the daisies at The Garden, she doesn't have the same aura as normal flowers and Flowers from The Garden. You can't quite put a finger on it but you know that she knows. She knows you're a Flower.

"Daisy!" the woman from before barges into the office, steam coming out of her ears. "What did I say about bedtime?"

Daisy pouts, gripping her arms around you. "I want to be with the pretty lady."

"The pretty lady isn't here for you, Daisy," the lead caretaker says from her desk with an exasperated sigh. She turns to you with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about her. Ever since one of our co-workers left, she's been, uh, difficult."

"You should go meet Taetae, pretty lady!" Daisy says, unwrapping herself from around you so she can show you her grin with missing teeth. "He likes sunflowers!"

"Okay, enough about Mr Kim, young lady. It's time for bed," the younger caretaker says, grabbing Daisy's hand and pulling her out of the office. Daisy waves at you with a knowing smile before the office door is closed. You turn back to the head caretaker.

"Thank you so much for your help," you say to her, giving her a charming smile.

She smiles back. "If there's anything I can help you with, let me know."

Get Kim Taehyung's address, the morning glories whisper. He's just like you. He can help you.

You use your charm on the head caretaker, giving her the brightest smile you can muster. "Actually, could I ask you a favour?"

The house in front of you has sunflowers on the front porch. They face the sun with pride, ready to lift the spirits of the people who walk past. Look at me! Look at me!

Daisy lets go of your hand, running to the front door of the house and ringing the doorbell before you could say anything to stop her. You stand by the open front gate awkwardly as the door opens a few minutes after. Daisy jumps in excitement.

"Taetae!" she giggles, leaping into the arms of the man who opened the door. He looks surprised a second before a boxy grin breaks out and he wraps his arms around the small girl.

"Daisy, what are you doing here?" he asks, adjusting her so he's resting her on his hips. He looks at her with such joy, as if she lights up his world.

He must love children, you think, letting the sunflowers hear your thoughts.

Oh, he does, the sunflowers say. We think he loves them more than us.

The man, you notice, seems to be a Flower, his bright red hair and eyebrows being an obvious flower trait. If you got a better look at him, you'd guess exactly what kind of flower he is. You think about asking the sunflowers, but you’re a little worried that the sunflowers might tell him your thoughts.

"I came here with a pretty sunflower lady!" Daisy points a finger at you. “She stayed the night at the orphanage and read me a nice book.”

You awkwardly smile as the man turns his attention toward you. You lift your hand to wave your fingers, and your breath hitches when you see that the man's eyes darkened at the sight of you.

"How about we get inside," he says. "We wouldn't want any unwanted listeners."

He invites you inside the house, still holding Daisy on his hips, and he closes the door behind you. You hear him talking to the sunflowers, and in that moment, you also realise what kind of flower he is. He's a unique one, one you haven't quite seen nor heard of before. But you do remember looking at files of failed projects in The Garden during your training.

"Kim Taehyung," you whisper. "Bird of Paradise."

The man, who was walking past you down the hallway, stops in his tracks. He breathes in deeply, before breathing out again.

"Follow me," he whispers, leading you down the hall. The interior of the house is like the exterior, bright and colourful with paintings of sunflowers on the walls. But with the lights out and the curtains drawn, the hallway looks dark and eerie. It looks almost like you had stepped into one of those virtual reality tests where you had to search for a perpetrator. Anxiety fills your lungs at the reminder of those tests. You hated those tests.

Pushing your anxiety aside, you follow Kim Taehyung down the hall toward a door. He opens it and you see stairs leading down. You follow him down into the basement, the lack of windows making you feel slightly more on edge. The lights on the walls are enough for you to see the steps below you and Kim Taehyung's red hair in front of you. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you find that you're standing in front of three doors. Each of the doors look exactly the same, brown and worn with a copper door handle.

Kim Taehyung places Daisy down on her feet, before turning to the door on the furthest right and unlocking it, opening the door to yet another hallway. He flicks the light switch by the entrance and the lights down the hallway turn on one by one. The hallway is long and narrow, and you wonder how long it goes on for. The stone walls of the underground hallway intimidates you as you start walking toward an unknown destination. Daisy holds your hand and Kim Taehyung's, a bounce in her step.

The three of you walk for a good ten minutes or so before the path splits into two. Kim Taehyung stops, looks around, before leading you down the left path. You walk for another five minutes before you reach another door. Kim Taehyung unlocks it, opens it, and you find yourself in a basement similar to the one you were in before. He turns to the door closest to the one you walked out of and knocks on it in a specific pattern.

You wait in anticipation, breath hitched, as you hear the noises of somebody walking toward the door. The door opens, slightly ajar, and you hear a man’s voice.

“Codeword?”

“Mandu.”

“Oh my god, Taehyung!” the door opens to reveal a pink haired man, arms crossed with a pout on his lips. “How many times to I have to tell you I’m sorry?! I can’t have you mentioning the mandu incident when I’m trying to be professional!”

Kim Taehyung smirks, “I just wanted to see you worked up, babe. I forgive you.”

The pink haired man smiles, before realising that they’re not alone. “Wait, why are you here?”

“I have someone the crew might want to meet,” Kim Taehyung says, gesturing to you. The pink haired man’s eyes widen at the sight of you.

“A sunflower,” he whispers.

“Get Hoseok hyung,” Kim Taehyung says. “We’re calling a meeting.”

masterlist (to be posted) | next (coming soon)

[blucmoon]

━  ☾ ⊹  ( lee sung kyung, cis female , she/her ) say hello to KWON INNA, the THIRTY ONE YEAR OLD that seems to have a lot in HER hands with HER job as a TRADITIONAL TEAHOUSE OWNER! beyond that, they seemed CONSIDERATE AND HARDWORKING upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of GULLIBLE AND IMPATIENT though. SHE seems to live in a FOUR BEDROOM HOUSE in YUNHWA, SOUTH KOREA. anything else to add? oh, yeah! she also USED TO BE AN EDITOR AT A PROMINENT PUBLISHING COMPANY IN SEOUL!

about

name: inna kwon

birthday: september 10, 1989

age: 31

gender and pronouns: cis female, she / her.

orientation: bisexual,

birthplace: busan, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea.

current location: yunhwa, south korea. (house #4013, hwesakgu)

level of education: b.a in korean language and literature & journalism (double major)

occupation: owner of the teahouse at yeyun inn

past occupations: editor at a prominent publishing company in seoul.

appearance

height: 176cm / 5’7ft

weight: 54kg / 119lbs

piercings: left ear; daith, flat, double helix, anti-tragus, upper lobe and lobe. right ear; helix, upper lobe and lobe. likes to wear cuff earrings often.

fashion style: used to stick to seoul’s fashion, always wearing luxury brands as expected from the daughter of a socialite family. suits, skirts, dresses, purses… she didn’t spare any expense when it came to her wardrobe. now that she’s in yunhwa, inna completely changed her style… and finally found one that allows her to feel comfortable in her own skin and stop pretending to be something she isn’t and never was. tight clothing was exchanged for dresses and skirts that dance with the breeze while she takes walks on the beach. sweaters, blazers and blouses that are two sizes too big on her, often making her to roll up the sleeves for comfort. pants, shorts and skirts of all shapes and lengths in a variety of patterns, mostly plaid, pinstripes, herringbone and every so often she’d opt for more striking, eye catching patterns (it has a lot to do with her emotional state). as for shoes, she changed the expensive stilettos for flats, boots and sneakers. for accessorizing, she likes to decorate her wrists with dainty bracelets and her hands with several rings in gold and silver, usually three in the left hand and five in the right one, sometimes stacked, sometimes one on each finger. depending on the season, she either wears delicate necklaces or fashionable scarves that cover both, style and function. her favorite way to dress is with pants, mostly cuffed jeans, a blouse or a shirt that she loosely tucks in and long coats, big cardigans or blazers on top.

eyes: a light shade of brown, almost reminiscent of melted caramel: equally as warm and sweet but doesn’t necessarily catering to everyone.

hair color and style: it’s been far too long since she’s last seen her natural hair color, which she vaguely remembers as a dark brown, so dark that she sometimes thought was just black. as she grew up and gained a little more of liberty to make her own decisions, her hair changed to a variety of colors: from red to black to light brown to blonde with pastel strikes. now, it’s dyed auburn brown, reaching the middle of her back and with bangs. she has naturally wavy hair, but only slightly, enough to not be considered straight. she likes it and would rarely ever go out of her way to do anything different like straightening or curling it, much preferring to let it cascade down her shoulders. halfway through the day though she can be seen pulling it up in messy buns or ponytails, or even braiding it whenever she has some free time.

personality

positive personality traits: disciplined, honest, considerate

negative personality traits: impatient, stubborn, gullible

bad habits or vices: stressing over things she can’t control, smoking once or twice a day (more when she’s anxious or stressed), late night snacking, drums her fingers everywhere.

birth chart: virgo sun, capricorn moon, leo rising

mbti: isfp

enneagram: 4w3

hobbies/interests: reading under the sun, journaling, listening to music directly from vinyl, playing chess and jigsaw puzzles, riding her bike to and from work and around town, nightly drives and two in the morning street food, online shopping, sales hunting, cooking.  

background (tldr)

inked words in a piece of parchment were all it took to turn her life around.

one day, she held a crown over her head, titles of excellence under her arm and an engagement ring around her finger. inna was the oldest daughter, the next in line, the one that was meant to achieve greatness first between the three siblings and set the example for them.

having the kwon surname was a synonym of high expectations and never did she fall short of any of them. inna was an exemplary woman, hard working and, most importantly, one that rarely voiced her opinions.

nonetheless, the day she came across a letter addressed directly to her was the day she started questioning who she really was.

sometimes, the protection that comes within hiding the truth is much needed to keep someone blissfully unaware of the reality; to keep them from unnecessary pain. inna doesn’t blame her parents for sheltering her, but she does hold it against them for underestimating her and not telling her she was adopted sooner.

the letter was short and the sender’s penmanship was gorgeous, clear, easy to read… and one that was completely strange to her. yet, she claimed to be her biological mother and promises of some answers came within a will, one that conceded her the ownership of a property and a teahouse, both allocated in yunhwa.

after several days of contemplation, arguments between her and her mother and research about a town she’s never heard of before, inna made a decision. one motivated by the final straw that came in the shape of a selfish partner whose only real interest was to have the perfect trophy wife. packing her whole life into cardboard boxes and several suitcases isn’t nearly as difficult as she first expected and so she leaves without looking back.

saying goodbye to seoul leaves a bittersweet taste as she drives five hours to yunhwa, only stopping when arriving at the address on the will. the woman spent almost an hour observing the front of the rather old house and it was clear that no one had habited it for months; overgrown plants on the small garden at the front, dust collecting on the windows… and the unknown behind its closed door.

she had no idea of what to expect, of what she going to find. it’s deeply scares her, the truth has never been an easy thing to swallow and she second guesses her plans when someone, apparently her mother’s acquaintance, stops by and the first thing they tell her is “you have her eyes.”

that’s all it takes for inna to make up her mind.

background (full)

inna is the oldest daughter of the kwon family, who were not famous per se, but well-positioned in the high society of seoul. her father had a couple of restaurants and her mother was the director of a publishing company she built from the ground. other than that, they’re your average rich family with parents having great expectations on their children to either follow their steps or achieve greatness on their own. inna was the ‘firstborn’, older than her brother for seven years and nine years older than her sister.

an absolute sweetheart as a kid, easily charming everyone with her dimpled smiles and lighter-colored eyes, a striking feature that didn’t resemble neither her mother’s or father’s very own eyes. however, it was never questioned neither was it unwelcomed. instead, it was appraised and even something her mother often showed off.

almost always been a well behaved daughter; charming, polite, obedient. the classic oldest daughter schtick and her mother constantly reminding her to set the example for her siblings only added to it. sure, she got into her fair share of trouble; a broken heart more than once, underage drinking (not too often), maybe cheating in an exam once or twice or copying someone else’s homework, but she made sure nothing would suffice to tarnish her or her family’s reputation permanently.

it’s in high school, after taking a literature class and discovering her love for reading and writing, that she decided to study something along those lines. not so surprisingly, her decision was fully supported by her mother which, admittedly, made her hesitate. inna had the gut feeling that the moment she shared her plans, her mother had already further paved the path of her future.

trying to look past this, college wasn’t nearly half as bad. actually, the years spent studying korean language and literature as well as journalism (double major nerd over here) were her favorites. between her junior and senior years, though, she took a sabbatical year (it was her 21st birthday wish and her father easily caved in despite her mother’s disapproval) to travel and her first destination was paris followed by london, tokyo and lastly california.

graduating at twenty two, inna immediately got a job in her mother’s company and slowly worked her way up until achieving the position of editor-in-chief at twenty seven. inna was really good at her job and she knew what it took for the company’s publications to become best-sellers, but she never shone whatsoever.

all her achievements never seemed to be hers for the spotlight always landed on her mother and rumor had it that inna got where she was thanks to her mother, which is partly true. sure, getting the job was a given, but everyone failed to see how exigent her mother- her boss was, or the amount of criticism she got without anyone noticing, or the late nights at the office, or the weekends without a break. still, inna never went out of her way to discredit the rumors, already knowing that changing people’s minds was 1. difficult and 2. pointless. every word, jab and snide comment directed her way fell on deaf ears.

inna wasn’t particularly discontented about her job, but she didn’t feel fulfilled either.

something felt constantly amiss and the sensation of being utterly lost was nothing new to her either. her dreams, goals and ambitions were all stored away, collecting dust and spiderwebs, just like her unfinished manuscripts safely kept in a box at home. being an author was her biggest dream, not reviewing, editing and telling other authors what to do to become a hit. inna wanted, longed to be on the other side.

however, there always seemed to be excuses for her not to: endless work, new publications, new clients and projects, then promotion after promotion and, lastly, a new partner that asks her hand in marriage by the time she turns thirty.

he was sweet, caring and always supported her professional growth. idealistically, the perfect partner. the kind that she introduced to her parents without hesitation or having to tell him to keep something a secret to avoid their disapproval. none of that happened this time compared to previous partners of hers. inna should’ve known something wasn’t right about someone so flawless, so selfless. maybe a part of her felt it from the get go, but in her position, the next “natural” step after having a stable career, was getting married and forming a family of her own. so when he asked (nothing too out of the world, just a family dinner), she couldn’t say no.

life was seemingly perfect.

the wedding planning midway through and one of the books the company published and she personally supervised became a huge success in the country, even getting a contract for a drama adaptation, thus the remuneration she got was big. rumors of a new office opening overseas where often heard across the building as well as inna being in charge of it. she couldn’t be happier.

it was the calm before the storm.

one afternoon at her parent’s house everything went downhill.

her mother asked inna to bring her a manuscript from her office. unsuspecting, inna was looking for it through the drawers when accidentally coming across an envelope with her name beautifully written on it. curiosity had always been her best and worst trait, and this time she couldn’t help but reading the contents.

the letter was short and the sender’s penmanship was gorgeous, clear, easy to read… and one that was completely strange to her. yet, she claimed to be her biological mother and promises of some answers came within a will, one that conceded her the ownership of a property and a teahouse, both allocated in yunhwa.

after several days of contemplation, arguments between her and her mother and research about a town she’s never heard of before, inna made a decision. one motivated by the final straw that came in the shape of a selfish partner whose only real interest was to have the perfect trophy wife. packing her whole life into cardboard boxes and several suitcases isn’t nearly as difficult as she first expected and so she leaves without looking back.

saying goodbye to seoul leaves a bittersweet taste as she drives five hours to yunhwa, only stopping when arriving at the address on the will. the woman spent almost an hour observing the front of the rather old house and it was clear that no one had habited it for months; overgrown plants on the small garden at the front, dust collecting on the windows… and the unknown behind its closed door.

she had no idea of what to expect, of what she was going to find. it’s deeply scares her, the truth has never been an easy thing to swallow and she second guesses her plans when someone, apparently her mother’s acquaintance, stops by and the first thing they tell her is “you have her eyes.”

that’s all it takes for inna to make up her mind.

still, everything feels strange to her as she steps into a house that’s now hers, but has never visited before or even had an idea of its existence. it’s overwhelming, to say the least, to encounter what inna assumes was her mother’s way of living. the further she stepped into the house, she noticed that nothing really matched and every piece of furniture seemed to have been purposely selected to differ from the rest. every chair in the dining room was different, some looked older than the rest and traces of restoration were clear on the mismatched filler between the cracks. a homemade project is what inna assumes. it was a mess, but somehow, a beautiful one.

that’s the first thing she learns about her mother: she liked to give things a second chance.

sleeping in that house wasn’t plausible for several reasons, mostly because she didn’t like the idea of reside there in its current state; the cracking floor, the thick layer of dust that caused her to sneeze repeatedly and she swears a rat had made that place its home. inna immediately planned to do some renovations and reparations and, until the bedroom and kitchen were fully functional, she’d make do by finding another place to stay.

her next stop was yeyun inn, the second location indicated in the will where he was to take over her mother’s business: the teahouse. this was something that absolutely dumbfounded inna, not knowing anything about running a place like that for her core occupation was a stark contrast from it. still, she was aware that the savings she had, despite being a respectable amount, would only last for so long and most of them would be invested in the house anyway.

troubled, she presented the will to the innkeeper as well as her living arrangements problems, which were easily solved by temporarily moving into one of the inn’s rooms. however, the teahouse was different and inna has been struggling a little to learn all there is to learn about it. four months later, inna is still in yunhwa, still learning all she can about her mother and only recently moved into her new house after some renovations were over.

it’s conflicting to be there and be constantly compared to a woman that was a complete stranger to her. somedays, inna feels flattered, especially when they mention their eyes, but most days, she’s angry. she’s resentful. she’s annoyed that the chance of meeting this seemingly wonderful woman that the whole town loved was taken away from her.

some things to note

inna has been in yunhwa for 4 months, never heard of the town before or anything about her mother. she doesn’t know if she’s here to stay permanently or what, but meanwhile, she plans to make this place her home and this is why she considers herself a citizen.

has not been in touch with her family (except her dad) since she moved into yunhwa. leaving seoul meant leaving everything behind: her job, her engagement, her family, her friends.

it’s nice to not be compared to her adoptive mother and siblings here because whenever this happened in seoul, it was all backhanded compliments… but here in yunhwa, she often has to put up with the same thing, only that nicer and because of her biological mom. sometimes she’s polite, but some days, inna immediately shuts down anyone who even tries to tell her anything (as politely as possible… or not)

actually inna’s biological and adoptive mothers knew each other. her mother adopted her because her biological mother was in a really bad stage in her life and knew she couldn’t provide her daughter the life she deserved. her adoptive mom hadn’t been able to have kids as much as she tried, so at the moment it sounded like a good idea. they made a promise to not tell inna until her mom was in a better place where she could meet her daughter without any shame.

after the adoption, both kept in touch every couple of months for her adoptive mom to update on inna’s life, achievements and everything. this is exactly why some townspeople are prone to know about inna: her mother used to show her off a lot, even showing some photos she got.

her adoptive mother wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids, but seven years after adopting inna, she got news of pregnancy… and again 2 years after that. the dynamic didn’t change much, but her mom has always been extra exigent when it comes to inna and a little more lenient with her siblings.

her biological mom got her life together after struggling for a while and became a really important part of yunhwa’s community. she helped anyone who needed it and tried to find ways to improve the town just to make life a little better. so yeah, inna’s mom was well-known, especially after she got the teahouse (approximately 20 years ago), where she welcomed anyone to share their woes or joys over a cup of tea.

the process of cleaning the house was a long process because of all the things her mother had. she kept some furniture like the table and chairs from the dining room and a beautiful desk, but the rest had been mostly ruined due to the rats. yes, rats. (its okay, the house has been fumigated.)

while going through and selecting her mom’s belongings for donations and stuff, inna found several things that she was able to keep like a box of letters her mother wrote her but never sent, tons and tons of journals she used to write short stories in and that never saw the light and her mom’s vinyls collection. (inna drove all the way to busan to get a new player because hers didn’t work anymore).

the house is still undergoing renovations, but she’s able to live there despite it since they’re done through the day while she’s at the teahouse. she’s slowly becoming a plant mom because of the beautiful lighting the house has and now that she’s not as busy as she was in seoul, she has more time and patience to take care of them properly.

is still struggling to learn the business, but doing a whole lot better than her first month running the teahouse. she also became absurdly fascinated by tea and is absolutely surprised there’s no boba tea in yunhwa yet so she’s made this resolution to learn how to make bubble tea and sell it. (looking for guinea pigs that can taste her delicious creations.)

(cw: smoking) she smokes, an awful habit she got from her working days in the city. has been trying to quit even before she moved into the town but its been to not avail. she’s managed to reduce her intake to one or two a day, but in those days that she’s more stressed, it doubles.

don’t come @ her but she has rich girl hobbies: knows how to play chess and actually enjoys it a lot, she even brought with her a board her father gave her when she was younger and is keen to find someone that plays with her, even if she has to teach them herself.

is shopping a hobby? yes, and she does it quite often though she’s found a secret joy in hunting sales. every so often she likes to splurge and label it as self-care.

enjoys a good wine anytime and if she has a craving in the middle of the night for a good bottle, she’d drive all the way to busan in order to satisfy this. maybe treat herself a dinner or perhaps clubbing? who knows.

has a car but has rarely used it since she moved into yunhwa because the town is so accessible by walking or bike that she decided to buy a bike instead. it’s her favorite method of transportation and uses it everyday to get to work.