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crazyclownthanos · 4 years ago

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White Clover

Page 1: Passing the baton

Words: 3823

The Clover Kingdom

The title of 30th wizard king, now belonging to an orphan who grew up in the forsaken realm, who had no magic and better yet was a devil host

Asta achieved his long life dream and he couldn’t be more happier

Standing on the clover castle balcony with his wizard king crown on his head and his signature smile

Right beside him was his fiancé at the time Noelle Silva who was given the role of one of the many advisers

Standing on his left side Secre Swallowtail or known as Nero in simpler times,another adviser to the wizard king

Along with Finral Vaude, another advisor to the wizard king

Together with Noelle was Mimosa Vermilion known to be clovers best healing mage

The whole entire kingdom was there to watch

From the noble realm

From the common realm

From the forsaken realm

All the citizens were there to watch

Sister Lilly, Orsi, Nash, Recca, Auru and Hollo were standing on one of the castle towers. smiles all around, cheering and some tears from father Orsi.

House Vermillion, House Kira and House Silva stood proudly watching the ceremony. King Augustus was actually bothered to watch the ceremony but all the swine did was sit and squirm in his throne. Some people don’t ever change.

All the captains stood proudly with their squads and robes on

The magic knights all yelling praises and singing for joy

Drouot within the crowd crying happy tears proud to see that boy grow up and soar over the years

The diamond kingdom mages showed up too

Mars

Ladros

Ragus

Broccos

Yagos

Galleo

Mohawq

Human Fana

All showed up to show their support to Asta

The seabed temple folks also saw

Gifso

Gio

Kahono jumping up and down screaming to see Noelle on screen.

Kiato

And the rest of the citizens

The Witches Forrest were also able to watch the ceremony

The elves were invited too. Patri, Elf Fana, Vetto and Rhya watched from the top of one of the buildings filled with joy

The newly crown spade king was just arriving landing right beside Asta with his crown and not to forget Belle still sitting on his shoulder

They didn’t say anything to each other but only smiled. Yuno and Asta shared one last bump fist

The journey ends. A new era starts......

A story of a new devil

This story starts off in a library, dusty books in sight, lightly lit candles illuminating the space, a chalkboard in sight and in front of the chalkboard was a wooden table and chairs

Two boys, one standing in front of the chalkboard and the second one sitting on one of the chairs

The first boy apperance was thin and fair, he was wearing a black turtle neck hemmed to his hips, along side white pants and an over sized wool cardigan. Cherry colored triple bangs and eyes of blooming sakuras seen from a distance

The second boy had two light grey braids on the left side of his head tied up in in a ponytail with bangs on the ride side sprouting out. Heterochromia irises of blue on the right and purple on the left. Wearing long puffy sleeves faded blue shirt connected to circle pins with the house Silva emblem splatted on, having a bit of a hole appears above it on both sleeves and on both side of hips, a lilac slash tired around his waist with the knot on the right side, navy blue pants along side pockets with the same pin at the ankle and the hole above.

Please meet

Ace Silva! The youngest of the Ideale Branch

And

Reagan Silva! The second son of the main Silva branch

“When making a paper crane you need to pull the wings, but not too hard!”

“Ta-da!”

Placing the paper crane on the table Ace gleed with Joy considering it was his 1000th time making a paper crane.

Meanwhile Reagan on the other hand was still struggling doing the top fold, his cheeks were turning red out of embarrassment

“You’ll get the hang of it!” Ace remarked hands on his hips smiling ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. Hearing someone slam the door open frightened Ace causing him to fall on the ground and duck for cover.

Three people walked inside two girls look around the same height, and one male taller than the two girls

“Yo-ho! Regan, Ace!”

Please meet the next generation of Silvas

Be mentally & physically prepared

Seriously.

There beasts.

Haskell Silva.

Nozel Silva’s first son and the heir of the royal Silva family. A hyperactive 20 year old and a 1st class senior magic knight of the Silver Eagles squad. Currently rocking ankle length blonde hair to the ankles tied up in low length ponytail with bangs out. Wearing a sleeveless tight shirt of yellows and golds showing the design of a golden eagle in the middle and golden rays of the sun symboling the eagle, white pants and calf length white boots with golden edges.

Next was Nozel’s first daughter, claimed to be one of the finest ladies in the kingdom. A cunning lady who went by the name Nereida Silva. A rookie member of the Black Bull who got into the squad by persuasion by her aunt, Noelle. She had the facial features and silver hair, a normal Silva appearance (though unlike her yellow eyes that textured her irises) tied up at the buttom and pinned up by a clip with a somewhat curly fringe the swooped up a bit. Wearing something similar to Haskell but instead of the golden edged boots it’s dipped in a silver color altogether. Her tight singlet that caressed her skin in a purple color.

The last one of the bunch

Josslyn Silva.

The eldest of the Ideale branch.

Told to be one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, blessed with mint green eyes like her grandfather, pink luscious lips, quite noticeable and long cherry blossom hair that was normally tied up in a high ponytail along with her bangs that covered her forehead and hair spilling out at the front. Complementary to Nereida and Haskell she of course rocked the silver edged boots, white pants and a pink tight top.

“A-ah! What bring you guys here? I thought you guys were meant to do your intense trial or something else...” Ace murmuring his last couple of words, peering his pink eyes at the three

“I’ll comment and say Haskell was a walking fire hazard in today’s sparring session.” Nereida shared a smile making it look like nothing happened at all.

“Now we’re punished to read all books on magic tool history.” Josslyn cocked her head towards her younger brother.

A vein popped out of Nereida still fuming with rage knowing she got punished for something she didn’t do though appearances such appearances had no effect on her smile.!

“Oh I’m sorry Regan and I will take our leave” Ace stumbled on his words picking up the pieces of the paper he walked to the door expecting Regan following right behind him

“Rega- Aaah!” Ace let out a girly scream seeing Regans face turn purple from being suffocated from the squeeze of Haskell’s biceps

“HASKELL YOUR GOING TO KILL HIM~!” Ace mustered all the strength he could to let Reagan have atleast one breath of air pass his lips. Unfortunately it had no affect on Haskell, the guy was just too buff not like Asta buff just the unequaled type of buff.

Noticing the tears swell up in Ace’s eyes he took note of the state Reagan was in and joined the panic feast

“AAAAHHH WHAT DID I DO?!” Letting the poor six year old rest on his back, Haskell had no other option but to perform cpr on him.

Performing at least 60 chest compressions per 30 seconds, Haskell and Ace haven’t even checked for a pulse better yet done mouth to mouth.

The sound of a sharp inhale was a wave of relief crashing over Haskell and Ace.

“AAH! MY SWEET BROTHER BLOODHOOD YOURE BREATHING AGAIN~!!” Haskell shaking Reagan by the shoulders, waterfalls spilling down his cheeks. Concurrently Josslyn and Nereida stood there witnessing the turn of events not even changing their facial expressions

Squirming around the young boy Reagan sat there dumbfounded still picking up the pieces on what just turned.

Exhaling sharply, Josslyn stepped one foot forward resulting in both Ace and Reagan sitting on their assess kicked out of the room.

Somewhere outside Clover castle, busy by a chain of stalls selling fresh produce and in an alleyway a red fox growling its teeth at some crows over a crushed rotten apple. Successfully the red fox scared the crows away able to eat the apple without disturbance.

A gust of wind came along not disturbing the red fox but the newspaper blown right in front of the apple. Looking at the newspaper the front cover was in view displaying the new generation of Silva’s all standing, hands behind their backs, legs straight plus posture and not to forget their serious expressions. Wrinkling the red foxes expression somehow it didn’t happen to wrinkle on the last boy with the red hair on the left instead it only tilted it’s head. As the red fox shifted its head to the visible sign of the House Silva emblem.

Back at the Silva palace Ace and Reagan walked down the corridor going pass all the Silva’s portraits that came before them, their luxurious silver hair was never out of sight, they had forgotten they were the first generation of Silva’s that all possess their own individual hair color, the pressure was definitely on for them. At the rate their generation is going the pressure might be able to kill them knowing that both Ace and Reagan have not manifested a magic attribute yet, always the word “yet” has to taunt Ace, other children his age are already performing and practicing magic.

“Grandmother......” Reagan said in awe

Hearing those words Ace tapped back into reality seeing that both him and Reagan approached the portrait of Acier Silva looking all beautiful, Ace could only bite his lip in shame, knowing that this was the woman he was named after, he wasn’t reaching the expectations of royals, he wasn’t out there with his cousins using magic neither doing his duty as the bridge between royals and peasants making a difference.

Why wasn’t he never good enough.....?!

Ace’s hands started to shake, noticing this Reagan took Ace’s closest hand to him and started to pet it attempting to give it warmth. Taking his hand out of Reagan’s grasp, Ace held them together forward and bowed deeply altogether with a sad face for a few minutes. Standing back up he turned to see the stern expression of what Reagan was making, squeezing his fists right near his face, quivering his lip and his eyes look like they were about to pop out of his head. Ace almost felt if he we’re to poke his cheek he would explode. Lifting up his hands in surrender, not knowing what he could do next. “R-Reagan d-do you need to go p-p-potty?” Reagan took back his composure, he stopped squeezing his fists, took them to hip level and made hand gestures to Ace ordering him to get onto his height level. Somehow Ace cleary understood what Reagan was communicating and did what he got told. Now kneeling right in front of Nozel’s second son, Ace was not prepared on what was going to happen.

Reagan slapped him.

Before Ace could recover from the first slap a mountain of slaps came flooding in.

Screaming Bloody Mary for a good 5 minutes. Reagan finally finished. Sitting on beaten up Ace’s stomach, huffing and huffing before speaking out to him one last time. “Now have you learnt your lesson?”

“A lesson?! How is this a lesson! You just continuely slapped me without say?!” That’s what Ace really wanted to say. Instead he just breathed out, saluted him and replied back. “You got it captain Reagan.”

Reagan nodded his head in approval. Getting off his stomach. Reagan starred at the glass door near by echoing the songs of spring. “Hurry along Ace! It’s time we go outside.” Pointing to the glass door leading to House Silva’s garden. Ace lifted up his head (still red slap marks kissing his face) scrunching his nose in confusion.

“But why?” Ace questioned. Replying to the question, Reagan had already walked over to the glass door and tried to grab onto the door handle.

“Oh.”

He had to open to door for Reagan. Forgetting that Reagan was shorter than the average six year old male and the door handles around the palace tend to be far higher.

While Reagan was running around the garden on a quest to find as many bugs as he could. Ace spent his time laying on the grass, face down and pretending he wasn’t listening to a kid on crack. Feeling the sudden pain of an object hitting his head, Ace lifted his head off the grass to search on what could of strike him. His eyes couldn’t pick up anything unusual, maybe it was just the pain of the slaps finally coming to fry his brain. Scanning one more time Ace finally saw what it was. An acorn? Sweeping the acorn off the ground Ace held the acorn in both his hands, lifting up his upper body to take a proper look, the acorn was just another ordinary acorn but what felt odd about it that squirrels don’t even take habit around the capital, usually their spotted in places like the woods.

The curiousity caused Ace to take a closer look around the garden to see if maybe Reagan had shifted from scouting bugs to acorns instead. Wasn’t the case at all. Instead of a kid on crack Ace had spotted a baby red fox using it’s amber eyes as a somewhat attempt of brainwashing him. This wasn’t the first time Ace had crossed paths with a red fox, you can spot them sometimes, never in packs but just a single red fox always startling Ace somehow.

A few blinks was traded among the two, soon enough Ace passed on a small smile and wave. The red fox maybe had mistaken the small gesture as a way to tell the fox come fourth. One paw in front of the other Ace did wonder where did the red fox came from. Maybe it was the adult foxes baby? But shouldn’t it stay close to its mother? Finally in arms length, Ace sat up cross legged and let out an open hand for the baby fox to get a closer sniff on his scent, it all went well until Reagan decided to run pass still continuing to scream. The scream had startled the baby fox causing it to hide behind Ace. Evoking Ace to crackle a chuckle he simply laid a hand on the foxes head, while he continued to chuckle with his other hand over his mouth. This brought back a memory of the times whenever he would get scared and hold onto his mother’s leg or hide behind her dress as hypocritical it sounds. Maybe this was the feeling Nebra got whenever Ace would do this

The baby red fox came back around with pleading sounds of joy that only worked Ace over more. Starting to come closer the baby fox began to lay its head on his lap for comfort. Not wanting to wake up the baby fox Ace sat there only focusing his eyes on the sleeping fox.

Regrettably that soothing peace didn’t last long. Reagan came up to Ace holding bugs that he dug up, together with dirt in between his fingers. This time the fox ran out of sight as soon as the oath approached. Ace pulled a face of disgust stirring his head away from the sight.

“Something the matter Ace?”

“Uh. Not really actually.” Ace held the barf in his cheeks.

“You look sick...wanna go see Mimosa?” Dropping his hands. Having the tone of a concerned mother.

Ace cocked his head the other way not wanting to see the sight of his hands again.

“No thank you! Really appreciate it but I think I’ll be fine.” Just when Reagan was going to say something else the scent of gasoline hit them like an arrow.

“Is that the smell of gaso-“ Ace didn’t even finished his scentence. The damage had already been done. The three tater tots had successfully blown up one of their families libraries and some areas outside the library. They can already imagine the headache in front of them.

“Oh come on you old meanie! Is hitting us THAT necessary?!!” Haskell yelped just after gotten a smack a head from one of Nozel’s Mercury stick thingos.

Haskell, Josslyn, Nereida plus Ace and Reagan was currently getting interrogated none other then the head of the family. Nozel Silva, for damaging their “beloved” library.

“Indubitably it is. I could punish you 5 far worse but by all means I’ll keep you alive for now.”

“Oooo you’re so intimidating Mr frostbite~ What are you going to do to that library? DIG IT A GRAVE?” Haskell was getting sharp with his words, he wasn’t the compulsive type though if you were to trigger that all you could do was pray and hope for the best.

That triggered Nozel. The air became thin and the room began to shake in an attempt to scare these children.

Unsuccessfully his plan didn’t work out at all. These children weren’t fazed in the slightest bit. Haskell stood there crossing his arms and tapping his foot, Nereida only stood there with no facial expression expressed and Josslyn could only stare at the ugly paperweight on Nozel’s desk. Meanwhile in Ace and Reagan case they couldn’t even detect mana at all, not to forget this rapid cold feeling wasn’t the first time they had felt it.

As soon as the room felt more lighter Haskell had a bucket of insults ready to missile at his father, however Nozel was able to summon a piece of mercury taped to his mouth to keep him shut.

“At this age of your lives. You three should know how to maintain your magic and keep it away from harms way.” Walking past all Silva’s like they were at military camp.

Nereida lifted up her hand to say something.

“I competely agree with you father, but if you will I need to comment that it was all Josslyn’s and Haskell’s fault. You see Haskell kept on mocking Josslyn and you get the idea that Josslyn is quite short tempted. To flourish her anger she activated one of steamed based spells to fill the area of gasoline so on and so forth.” Ace sometimes wondered how Nereida can stay efficient.

Josslyn rolled her eyes. Haskell was trying to shout profanities with the mercury still taped to his mouth. “Thank you Nereida. I do appreciate your truth. Momentarily I assure its all time you five gets some shut eye for tomorrow’s event.”

All of them except for Haskell saluted and 4 of them made their path outdoors in the meantime Reagan rushed to his fathers side. Ace whispered to Nereida covering his mouth “wait. I still don’t understand why Reagan and I were dragged into this.”

“Better not to question it.” Nereida replied keeping her hands behind her back. Ace slopped forward looking forward to the comfort of his pillow.

The baby red fox ran through weeds in the moonlight. Stopping at a rock placing both paws onto the rock. Then the impossible happened. A illuminating red glitter had taken shape over the fox. The red fox shifted into a baby red fox to an adult red fox. Gawking at the offical royal magic grimoire tower in front of it.

Tick-Tock

CLING

It was already mightnight. The grandfather clock had sure done its job waking up Ace. Reaching out towards his bed side table for his glass of water but this time as he picked up the glass and lifted it towards his lips no water dropped down.

“Dammit.” He had ran out of water. He had two options. Go downstairs to refill the glass or two swallow his own saliva. He went for the first option. Getting out of his comfortable position, Ace walked down stairs wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants. Walking down silently, wary not to wake up his parents or sister. Refilling the glass cup he had caught something phenomenal.

The semita blue butterfly. A rare butterfly that glows, which can only be founded during darking hours. He wasn’t letting this chance slip through his fingers. Taking a big sip of the water he started to walk towards the butterfly. Unlike other butterflies that would fly away if they spot danger, many have stated that the semita blue butterfly dosen’t fear danger.

Following the butterfly through the double doors outside the sleeping quarters of the Ideale branch. Pass the portrait of his grandmother. Flying through the main kitchen. Cursory every corner. Making it to the outdoors where Ace never stopped chasing the butterfly. Even when approaching the royal grimoire tower he didn’t take his eyes off it. The butterfly was his goal.

But a slight problem occurred. Reaching the insides of the royal grimoire tower the butterfly started to fly up out of Ace’s reach. To describe the interior of the grimoire tower it was not like any other grimoire tower scattered all over the kingdom. There was windows near the top displaying crystal shaped windows, circling that part. Most fascinating there was floating book shelves carrying books.

Ace had no facnation checking the place out. All he wanted was to get one touch from the semita blue butterfly.

Reaching out his right hand trying to grasp the blue butterfly, his eyes went wider and wider.

He lost contact for a minute then somehow a miracle transpired.

A blue arrow shot out of his palm.

And not like an arrow you find in a bow and arrow. The symbol arrow.

The blue arrow came streaming out of his palm, the length continued to grow as it went up. The blue arrow punched one of the floating book shelves resulting in some books losing balance and to fall off the shelve, flying towards the ground. One of them happened to come flying down to Ace. Covering his head with his hands pleading that the book will somehow move. Taking one more good look at the book as it’s about to hit him. The book stopped. Floating in the air. Wait did he saw a thumb by the spine?!

Taking the book out of his sight Ace flexed his head towards the book direction uncovering a man twice his height, pale skin, black split hair on an angle and pericing red eyes.

“Nice to finally meet you. Ace”

#White Clover #Ace Silva #Nozel Silva #Black Clover #White Clover: Black clover next generations #Next generations #fanfiction #Josslyn Silva #Nereida Silva #Haskell Silva #anime

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kt-65-wrecks-blog-blog · 4 years ago

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Prompt: Magic

“That’s amazing Shippo! I can’t even hear you! Better than a ninja!” Kagome clapped as Shippo pulled the leaf off his forehead and reappeared inches from her face.

He was learning new tricks in leaps and bounds. She was so proud of him. The latest was a leaf that made him invisible. It took a few hundred tries, but this was the best by far. She couldn’t even hear him!

The sun was getting low so they had made camp. Sesshomaru’s camp was near, as usual, but not exactly with them. That was how it had been for weeks. Kagome’s plans to befriend the daiyoukai had been thoroughly thwarted by the incident with the swords. Or at least she thought. He had returned the next morning and taken his group without a word, but every night when they made camp the impressive force his youki could be felt nearby. Inuyasha bristled and huffed at the routine.

It was when they all settled around for dinner that she had the best, or maybe worst, idea. Inuyasha was eating, or trying to anyway, when he found his chopsticks spirited away. Next his rice was upended over his head by a mysterious force. His ears were turned inside out. His hair tied together under his chin. He swatted at empty air, at a loss for the culprit. Miroku joined the fray and threw sutras at their invisible attacker, but he was at a loss too. The kit, her kit, was too good. Kagome laughed, all the while forming her next plan of attack.

The sun came up slowly the next morning. Grey skies sniffed out the light that should have been. A fine mist had settled overnight leaving everything a little damp. It was a welcome reprieve from the recent heatwave that had everyone moving a little slower, sleeping in a little later.

Kagome was already up though and in that predawn mist woke her kit as well. Slipping away from camp they giggled to themselves while they worked the kinks out of her plan. The first try Shippo deemed not good enough, he could still smell her. The second was a no go too because her reiki was hard to cover. It took him at least ten tries before he managed full invisibility, apparently it was a different thing to do the trick on a human miko rather than a kitsune.

When he was satisfied with his work he let her go, chest puffed up with pride at his greatest accomplishment yet. He returned to camp with a good excuse ready just in case Inuyasha woke and waited for her return. Scratching his head he wondered how long the magic would last and hoped it was long enough.

Kagome picked her way carefully through the underbrush following the heat of youki that settled into her bones and made the soles of her feet tingle. Shippo said he couldn’t hear her, but stealth still seemed necessary. Certainly Sesshomaru would notice if trees and bushes were rustling of their own accord. She decided if she found him doing something private she would turn away. She wasn’t a pervert. Her head filled with images of him sweetly nestled in with Rin and Kohaku. Maybe drinking tea in the early morning light. Sleeping in a tree the way Inuyasha did.

The tree line broke to a small clearing that ended abruptly at a sheer cliff. Wind hit the valley wall shooting gusts straight up. Below the forest continued for miles dotted here and there with glittering blue of a river that wound it’s way through the trees. Breaks in the clouds made multiple self-contained sunrises painted golden through the grey.

In the center of the clearing facing the cliff and sunrise Sesshomaru stood in only his hakama. Muscles pushed and pulled in his back as he swung Bakusaiga in a wide arc and spun. Kagome shrank back for a moment, but he continued the kata at a human pace without acknowledging her. Emboldened she took a few more steps into the clearing.

Muscles tensed and strained as he worked through the steps of his deadly dance. A fine sheen of water rested on his skin and she wondered if it was sweat or the mist that had settled on everything. His footing was sure despite the dew on the grass, and she noticed for the first time his feet were bare. “God, he even has perfect toes.” The words had fallen out and stained the absolute silence of the morning. Kagome cupped her hand over her mouth, but when he didn’t react she was even more emboldened and moved even closer.

His hair never got in the way. Somehow it, or he, moved so that the length of it was always flowing behind him. She wondered how many years of practice that took. Was he just hyper aware of it? Did the strands just shrink back on their own accord rather than offending him by getting tangled in his motions? She touched the ends of her own ebony locks thinking about how often it got tangled in her bow string. The wind caught the cause of her jealousy and white silk strands brushed her arm. “Wow” she breathed. The next time he swung close enough she put her hand out letting the soft thick strands fall through and around her outstretched fingers.

She continued watching feeling guilt tug at her for witnessing something that wasn’t meant for her. He crouched low and must have made a mistake because he stood abruptly and with a growl cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders back before repeating the stance and moving onto the next. So the Killing Perfection makes mistakes, she thought. And practices. This wasn’t a side to the demon lord she had envisioned. Somehow she had just assumed he was born perfect with a sword in each hand. Which was stupid, she realized, and dismissive on her part. Likely he had spent years, decades, possibly centuries training. Striving for perfection.

It was time for her to go, she realized, holding her prize in her chest. This was exactly what she had been looking for. Something relatable about the demon lord who she wanted so badly to befriend. As she turned to go his sword came down centimeters from her nose. Kagome held very very still. Her heart was pounding and with a jaw clenched so tight she thought she might break a molar she turned.

He wasn’t looking at her. He gave no indication that she was caught. He pulled his sword back and she noticed a clump of dark hair on the ground in front of her. Hand flying to her forehead she felt the spot where a small section of her bangs were much shorter than the rest. Choking back her cries of indignity she realized she probably deserved that. But it was definitely time to go. Accidentally killed while invisible was certainly on the top 100 dumb ways to die in the feudal era.

He moved in the next stance directly behind her. His hair brushed her face and thighs as he spun from high to low. His heat radiated through her school uniform. The speed of his motions blew her skirt up and she was grateful for the invisibility. At least some of her dignity was still intact.

Kagome hadn’t even made it a whole step she she felt claws graze the flesh of her rear, just below her panties, they came together pinching the sensitive skin. With a yelp she ran the rest of the way back to camp, her entire body burning with embarrassment.

She ran right past Inuyasha and he made no indication that he had seen her. No one did until she pulled the leaf off her forehead. She spent the next day convincing herself that had been an accident. He hadn’t seen her. There was no way in hell he pinched her butt. She had to lie about the missing swath of her bangs, but otherwise it had been a perfectly executed mission.

She was cocky when she saw him two days later. She approached him with extra swagger. “Hi!” She greeted boldly, full of herself and her secret knowledge.

Then he killed her perfectly by twirling a discarded clump of black hair between his long clawed fingers.

http://www.dokuga.com/fanfiction/story/3766/1

#sesskag monthly prompt #skmpsep20 #sesskag #sess/kag #inuyasha fanfiction #kagome #sesshoumaru #dokuga

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countryshitposts · 5 years ago

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You’re Shooting Your Bullet The Wrong Way

I Have No Good Title For Chapter 7

Trigger Warnings: mentions of rape and prostitution

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Name Guide:

Koku Nippon- Japan

Teikoku Nippon- Japan Empire

Ost- East Germany

Nabi- KE’s wife, belongs to @redffeather

Daehan Jeguk- Korean Empire

Daehan Imsi- Korean Provisional Government

Daehan Minguk- South Korea

Choson Inmin- North Korea

She and Koku were once again in his lair in the gardens; America was staring at the greenery once again, her eyes doing somersaults as she finds herself staring at the wonderful and colourful butterflies that had escaped through the door. Koku, meanwhile, was busily answering a worksheet Teikoku forced him to answer. For the past twenty minutes, his grey eyes were pinned to the worksheet in front of him, muttering a few hypothetical words and solving a little before answering.

America would crane her neck to peek at what Koku was answering, before furrowing her brow at how complicated the questions are to the point even her brain cannot answer the items immediately, so she let him be.

They were both quiet, not one of them talking to one another, which was fine; they’d just be as serene and as quiet as the butterflies around the gardens.

Japan sighs as he flips his paper once again, his eyes back to the words written on the worksheet, biting his thumb, but his grey eyes would escape to America, time and time again. He thinks he was being discreet, but America can clearly see the way he looks at her: like he had just found a person who’d keep him and his secrets company until he has to be taken by death itself and his old dreams and secrets are relinquished to be with the stars.

America merely scoffs; she was not his ‘company’, and she will only be with him for a short matter of time until she must go.

But America’s mind wasn’t on him.

It was on her mother- Netherlands.

A long time ago, America had given up on asking her father who her mother was; only for this curiosity and fear to come crashing to her in the future, like she was being swept by the current of a river towards a rumbling waterfall, its liquid gushing and churning and wishing she collides with the rocks as she desperately tries to swim back but the currents were like a person; pushing her closer and closer to the edge until her scream was drowned out by the waters.

America felt sick to her stomach as her memories pushes her back to her encounters with Netherlands… the time when the woman had kidnapped her when she was a child… when she had slipped drugs into her drink… when the woman threatened to hunt her down like a dog… when Netherlands tied a noose around America’s neck with a smile…

She chokes, like the noose was still on her neck and it tightens on her windpipe. She clutches at her throat, subconsciously trying to take the damned rope off before Netherlands kicked the chair from underneath her feet and her body dangling.

“Amerika!”, someone from the other side of her nightmares calls out to her, but all she can feel was the rope around her neck, trying to suffocate her entire being, as if it was real, and that nothing else was true except the rope burning around her neck.

Then she feels hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly but all she can comprehend is the shaking and quaking of the chair, Netherlands clearly teasing her with her hazy grey eyes and lips curling into a smile.

The hands were wrapping into her now, but the hazy voice she supposed was Netherland’s was replaced by a newer, much more worried voice, calling out to her again and again, as the arms around her tighten and now she feels skin against her uniform and not the noose around her neck, as if her reality that had been distorted is now reconnecting to the same reality once again.

“Amerika!”, like she had emerged from the depths of the water, the voice near her ear becoming clear as the waters in the pools.

She turns her head, seeing Koku’s worried face, striking grey eyes staring back at her, his brows furrowed as his hair makes contact with the nape of her neck.

Koku continues, “Are you alright? You were choking for a minute there.”

America blinks, not having the tongue to answer him, then looking down at the arms around her waist.

She then realises in what position they were in.

Face turning red, she forcibly breaks from Koku’s grip, with the other still staring back at her worriedly.

She regains her composure, glaring back at Koku with her ‘professional’ look. “Go back to solving your math problems. I’ll be here, guarding you.”

Koku scoffs, sitting back down and picking up his pen, then he turns his eyes back to the worksheets.

Meanwhile, America misses Koku’s arms around her, wanting that warmth once again, a flame saying to the winds to find something missing; dying colder and colder as Koku’s glances towards her strain as he focuses more on his work at hand and not at her.

“Sorry about scaring you there”, America sighs exhaustively, still facing the other way from Japan, “something in my personal life happened.”

She hears the placing of a pen back on the table, and grey eyes staring at her back. “Well, I’m sorry for also scaring you. And it’s fine, I forgive you.”

America turns back to stare at Koku, whose grey eyes were boring at her with such intensity and magnitude to the point she was afraid he’d set her on fire with his own mind. But there was something else in there now; curiosity to why she had overreacted, questions in his eyes like fragile glass waiting to be shattered. Crystals waiting to be dug up by miners and those who seek their treasures. Both of their eyes were full of stars, both of them unaware they were each other’s galaxy.

Koku clears his throat, blinking a little like he was out of tune, before turning back to his worksheet, leaving America staring at him answering the items like it was nothing, fast as lightning but not at all.

(She admits that she misses the way he looks at her, like he had all the time in the world.)

“You’re thinking of something again.” Koku states, lifting a hand up to inspect if there would be any chance of a downpour, as the clouds conquer and divide the light that the sun has given the world to entirely different entities, thunder sounding from the sky like it was preparing themselves for war. America keeps her eyes focused on the ground, cosying herself into her coat when a gust of cold wind blows her way.

(They were walking towards the Deutsche Towers, since Teikoku had told Koku to meet and greet Ost once again, but Koku demanded America come with him, much to Teikoku’s irritation.)

“And I should tell you my thoughts why?”, America asks Koku acidly, whose eyes were still focused on the dark grey clouds, marching to bring and harbour rain towards their city and dampening their entire city from ground up. “These are my thoughts, Japan. Not yours.”

Koku sighs, looking at America with an unamused expression, “Meri, I was just stating the obvious. No need to get over defensive about it.”

America was taken aback- not from what he said, but the nickname. The way Koku had said it, like it was nothing, the way the syllables roll on his tongue like he was the ocean’s waves crashing onto the sandy shoals with such impact it leaves the beach weak and vulnerable for days. The way he gave her a nickname sounded natural, like it was nothing more than a simple drop of rain in a dry desert waiting for a life-saving gift to come to them, an oasis, a paradise.

Something simple in one’s tongue is complex in another’s mind, and she just stares at Koku, mouth gaping like she had something to say.

Then a drop of rain falls down towards the sidewalk.

“It really is gonna rain”, Koku mutters as he takes out his umbrella from his pocket, once the rain drops start multiplying like viruses climbing and growing in infected numbers. America buries herself in her coat even more, preparing for the downpour (especially since her dim-witted ass forgot to bring an umbrella).

She then feels an arm wrap around her shoulder, and without a thought she is pulled into Koku’s umbrella, Koku holding the handle, looking everywhere except the girl underneath his arms.

“I didn’t know the downpour would be this bad”, Koku huffs a little, carefully strolling through the damp sidewalks, puddles dampening the insides of his shoe, and he tries to kick his shoe to release the liquid inside it.

Meanwhile, America was still linking arms with Japan, face hidden underneath Koku’s scarf (he’d insisted she was cold and let her wear it), staring at the rain pouring over them as she and Japan were being shielded by his umbrella.

“Are we there yet?”, America complains, mindlessly kicking on a puddle, which flies to Koku’s direction, making his pants wetter and colder than they were before. He glares at her and she smiles apologetically.

“No”, Koku replies, “just a block away. We haven’t encountered any butterflies yet.”

America blinks, confused to why they’d need to see butterflies in this sordid and desolate weather; they’re most likely in their own place, in their paradise somewhere in some gardens, frolicking and being their own thing and person, since that is what they are, dainty looking creatures that will seek shelter in the darkest of weathers.

So they keep walking, shoes sloshing on puddles and rain pouring down.

Then out of the corner of her eye, she spots a butterfly with emerald green wings; the patterns on its wing looking like an eye.

She raises a brow at it, but the insect didn’t look the slightest bit hindered at the fact that it is raining and it is cold. It was just there, staring at them with its wings-looking eye. She turns to Koku, who was staring at it with a face of knowing.

“We’re close”, he states, as he picks up his pace, following the green-winged butterfly. America, not being one to get caught in the rain, picks up her pace to match with Koku.

America was no stranger to the Deutsche Towers; its long and winding spiral staircases embedded in diamonds and spires… its transparent glass windows that dim once the sunlight becomes too much… the fountain in the middle of the hallway, which was also the centre of all surveillance… the grey rooms looked as if it was more of a mental ward than people actually living in the Towers… and of course, the basement, where America had only been in once and that was when Weimar’s father Deutsches Reich surrendered.

America frowns at her new surroundings- it had just been a month since Deutsches Reich had announced his bankruptcy for all to see and laugh, but he is nowhere to be found.

Then she remembered what Australia and New Zealand said.

Deutsches Reich is dead.

Weimar hadn’t even notified the police forces of such a murder, let alone looked like he cared about him.

She narrows her eyes at the looming Deutsche Towers above her, its glass windows watching her with caution and mockery.

If the man in Australia and New Zealand’s story is Weimar.

Koku skids to a stop in front of the entrance to America’s supposed nightmare. She could see what was on the inside; two guards in complete uniform reaching for the doors, opening them.

A rush of air flies out of the Tower’s entrance and into the couple’s faces, and combined with the cold rainwater dripping from their clothes, America shakes from the cold, as if the frozen winter tries to hurl a blizzard right in her warmth, but she dodges it to an extent, but the marks of cold are still there.

On the base of the stairs, it seems that someone was already waiting for them. The green butterfly that Koku had followed earlier flutters towards a man with a white trench coat, sown with butterflies, light locks brushed aside, his emerald green eyes glinting like emeralds under the ground, his lips curled into a small smile, as the butterflies around him flutter and play around him like he was in a paradise where everything was fine.

Or he was in the cemetery playing with people’s dead souls, as his laughs grow wilder and wilder and he claims to have seen death itself.

“Guten Abend, Japan”, Weimar greets in a slow, pleasant voice, his tone fake but civil, as if he was playing his part as Koku’s ‘father-in-law’ (America blanches at the thought; the thought that Koku is going to marry a fifteen year-old) but he will crush him after he becomes triumphant in his own plan. His eyes turn to America, and his pleasant grin becomes slightly cracked, eyes twitching as his emerald green eyes burn with hate.

America takes a deep breath- of course this man knows her name, of course she recognises her face, of course she doesn’t stand a chance against the truth and lies she committed. She was being cornered to a wall, as Weimar had always known her since the beginning of time, since she has intervened in all this mafia mob nonsense with a gun on her hand, poised to kill any of those who needed to be killed.

She could see it in his eyes; flaring like sparks as the emeralds grow out of control, not controlling their own fiery heart’s desire as they try to become the trees surrounding the mountain side.

Koku, unaware of the tension but knowing that Weimar’s eyes are pinned on America, looks back at the man before them. “This is my bodyguard: America.”

Weimar’s smile returns to its normal and less unsettling grin, turning back to Koku, his hands on his back, his body cool and composed. “Now then; shall we have some tea? I’ll get my children of course.”

Koku smiles a little, but it was fake and empty, his grey eyes wary of Weimar, and it has the slightest tinge of fear. “That would be lovely, gifu.”

Weimar’s eyes lit up, but there was still a blazing wildfire in his flaring eyes. “Good! Now then, let us go to the gardens, shall we?”

“It’s raining outside”, America deadpans, pointing at the open windows, the sound of raindrops over head.

Instead of Koku agreeing however, he goes mum, as he looks at both Weimar with wide and scared eyes, then back at America with an apprehensive expression, like she had just disrespected a king in his own castle. Weimar’s eye twitches, his neck tilting to an odd angle, making America feel something new around this brand new ‘Weimar’.

Fear.

“I know it is raining outside, you little minx”, he spits out, words of fire mixing in with an eerie calm around him. “We are going to go to the indoor gardens. Say if you were a cop, searching for a criminal in the most obvious spots, where would you find the bastard, then? Would you go looking around for circles even though he is right in front of you, waiting for you to catch him?”

America goes bright pink, and Weimar seems to feel her embarrassment, as he smiles triumphantly.

Silence fills the entire hallway, only the sound of the downpour being heard.

Then Koku’s voice breaks through it like a sonic boom. He turns to Weimar, glaring at him. “Do not talk to her like that. She made a mistake, that’s all.”

Weimar stares at Koku for a while, his grin ear-splitting and becoming uncomfortable and unbearable to look at before blinking, but Koku stays strong, even if his grey eyes show his greatest nightmares.

Weimar clicks his tongue, “Shall we go to the gardens now?”

Koku immediately follows Weimar, who was strutting so confidently and so surely, and America lags behind them.

“Hallo, Japan!”, a young girl holding a school notebook greets Koku while he was observing the rosebushes (who also immediately backs up in shock once a butterfly takes a special seat there, much to America’s confusion).

America turns towards the twins- both sporting big and naive smiles, able to light up the entire world with just them. She notices how only their eyes differ: Ost has her father’s emerald eyes, except kinder and much more free-spirited, while West has dark blue eyes. America furrows her brow as she sees parts of ginger in West’s hair, but none in Ost’s, who sports freckles instead.

West was reading a trivia book about History and how it was told, before accidentally bumping into America. She wasn’t that hindered though; West is as thin as a stick America had picked up from one of her community service efforts. West looks up at America with big, apologetic eyes.

“Es tut mir leid, Miss”, West says, awkwardly looking down to his shoes.

America shakes her head, smiling, “It’s fine, it’s just an accident.”

Her eyes pivot to Koku and Ost, in an awkward conversation, beads of sweat rolling down their faces despite the cold weather, as if they were being watched. As if someone is monitoring the couple’s moves and is simply waiting for them to say the wrong thing before they are fed to the wolves. Ost was holding her phone a little too tightly, looking the opposite direction from Koku but occasionally glancing at her phone’s screen for messages. Meanwhile, Koku was studying a peony bush, trying to carry on their dead conversation with his own hands, but he glances at America.

No, not at her.

He glances at West, who was giving the couple - mostly Koku though - a dirty glare, before fixing himself back at his book.

America could understand why West seemingly doesn’t like or is not fond of Koku; Ost is fifteen and she is going to marry a complete stranger who not only is older than her by almost a decade, he also doesn’t seem to be too stoked to this marriage idea. And that Koku’s brother is literally one of the most cruel mafia mob bosses everyone has ever seen, so that must mean there was a brutal killing streak inside of Koku as well.

Koku and Ost’s conversation goes dim, as if they have nothing in common and they do not wish to make an effort to communicate with each other, beau or not. They glance the other way, with Ost texting someone on her phone, and Koku staring right at America, who was only tuning out every single thing, distorting reality and replacing it with empty static in her head to entertain herself. She can hear West’s muttering of Egypt and its pyramid, but there is a blockade in her brain.

She feels someone’s hand on her arm, and she looks up to find Koku staring at her with a small smile on his face. “You wanna see those shiroi bara in the back of the gardens?”

America blinks up at his smile, already putting the sun to shame, and she grins. “Alright.”

“I have no idea why we’re doing this”, America says in an exhausted expression, as she feels Koku’s - comforting - fingers threading through her smooth and soft hair, humming to himself.

America has to confess to herself; the fingers around her hair making her relax, as tendrils of exhaustion are being snipped short as he softly runs through her hair in a delicate manner, an animal being calmed down like it was nothing. Her guilty pleasure was letting someone run through her hair so softly and slowly, like they had time in the entire world, a hand planting seeds deep into the ground, so that after a few days it can emerge into something far more great and glorious.

She sighs softly, relieving herself of pent up stress, leaning onto Koku’s chest for support, slowly letting him have control of her blonde locks, his fingers starting to do their work. She smells the absolute fragrance of the entire garden, flowers’ scents mixing and mingling with each other, as if they were talking, as if they were live and sentient beings that can talk about their feeling without the humans noticing them. They were hypnotizing her just by their scent alone, driving her to the wall, all letting her smell them without having the punishment of pollen allergies and coughing and hacking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be ‘courting’ Ost?”, America asks, still in bliss, jolting slightly as Koku accidentally touches a sensitive spot on her neck. “Why are you here- with me?”

Koku rolls his eyes, as if he had answered this question a fair amount of times. “Me and Ost aren’t exactly… ‘couple’ material.”

America snorts, “It’s obvious.

Koku continues, “And I like your company. A lot.”

The girl below him goes red. “Uh… thanks.”

Koku smiles a little, a small idea in his head, before he completely dismisses it in fear of rejection and awkwardness. “Watashi wa honkidesu.”

America feels light objects on her head, not weighing her down, but the fragrance they were emitting is. She inhales, smelling the blooming flowers that were seated on top of her head like a crown. Like she was a queen and she was on a throne.

“Alright, finished!”, Koku says from above America enthusiastically, and he offers her a hand mirror to gaze on her reflection.

Koku was a good hairstylist, as it turns out; the braid was so neatly done and clean, no stray hair strands, the crown perfectly in place. She smiles into her reflection as she leans into Koku more, admiring and loving his warmth like he was the sun beating down on the crops and helping them grow. She feels arms wrap around her, and she feels the summer breeze and spring air billowing in her hair. America smiles serenely, like nothing is wrong and that she has a perfect life right here and right now.

Then her mind comes back to her mother and that noose on her hand, her lips curved into a malicious smile.

She stiffens at the memory and jumps out of Koku’s arms, much to the latter’s shock. Grey eyes stab at her with worry, but all she can feel once again are the hands that had tried to come for her all those years ago, leading to here now. She was breathing harshly, trying to remember that this is the reality, and Netherlands holding the noose was a long time ago, a blurb in her fading memories, but her mind is sentient and refuses to listen.

“America?”, Koku bounds towards her, but America takes a step back, still seemingly shaken from the memory, especially trying to differentiate Koku’s grey eyes with Netherlands’. “Is everything all right?”

America stares at Koku with scared and vulnerable eyes, fearing luring in the apex predator that will rip her to shreds, but she catches the twins watching them from a far as well. She can feel embarrassment creeping on her back like it was nothing. Her frustration was wrapping into her like a crown of thorns, tearing her limbs apart like she was a delicate flower with beautiful petals. So, as a normal and human adult frustrated with everything, she turns her frustration to someone else.

“I’m not a friend, Koku”, she hisses coolly, glaring right up at his grey eyes, trying to muster the coldest expression she ever has, a tundra in the side of the mountains, “I’m your bodyguard, simple as that. I’m not supposed to act buddy-buddy with you, I’m supposed to protect you from harm’s way; I’m not able to do that if you keep playing dress-up with me.”

Koku opens his mouth to respond, but he closes them instead, eyes glaring at America, the calm before the storm. He stands from his place, pulling on his coat, before turning his back on America.

“Fine then”, he says, marching towards the garden’s exit, refusing to face his bodyguard, who was still glaring daggers at him, but there was regret in her eyes, feeling horrible that she pushed someone out of her life just like that. “I’m leaving, I’ve had enough. Sayonara, West and Ost.”

“Hold on!”, America says, covering herself from the rain using her coat and the scarf Japan gave her earlier, the rain and mist covering her vision, warping it into something else, but Koku’s back is still visible despite the foggy rain trying to blind her, umbrella in hand, dark hair billowing against the gusts of wind. He did not break a step, his shoes landing on puddle after puddle, now indifferent at the fact he is making himself wet.

America, meanwhile, was holding the coat over her head, trying to stop the rain from coming down on her, which was futile, and that most of her clothes are wet and damp by now. She almost slips on the rain-covered sidewalk, before stabilising herself with one of the lamp posts. America stares at Koku’s back, who stops just a short distance away, but he still doesn’t face her.

Perhaps it was time for her to swallow her pride… again.

“Look”, she starts, her voice being drowned out by the rain, continuously pouring down on the both of them, “I’m sorry about my outburst earlier. I just feel like shit this past few days, especially yesterday when my brothers told me something. And, uh, I now feel self-conscious that I’m not being a good bodyguard for you.” She lowers her head; what was now a fake apology now feeling real, as if she was virtual, as if they live in a world where everything is fine and alright and nothing happened. She had actually regretted snapping at Koku, regretted everything she did to him today because, in reality, he’s been treating her nicely. Like she was a friend of his. Like he had all the time in the world for her.

She feels an arm on her shoulder, and her eyes look up to find Koku staring at her with a sheepish look on his face, as if he was the one in the wrong and not her. The rain was noticeably not dripping down on her, and she looks up to find Koku’s umbrella covering the both of them (although Koku had to inch closer to save himself from the rain).

He smiles at her guiltily, “I’m sorry too, for leaving you in the rain like this.”

America laughs pleasantly, “I kinda deserve it, though.”

Another cold breeze targets America, and she shivers; her clothes were now damp from the rain, and Koku sighs sheepishly before taking off America’s coat from her shoulders and giving her his drier and larger one.

“Uh”, America raises a questioning brow at Koku, who was now putting on her coat, “what are you doing?”

“Put mine on”, he says with a small smile, “and we’ll go home.

America complies, putting on Koku’s coat; the sleeves were loose on her arms. “This barely fits me”, she deadpans, but there was a small grin on her face.

“To protect yourself more from the rain”, Koku snorts as they both turn back to their destination, the rain not bothering them anymore as America leans into Koku once again.

“So you’re also basically a tutor?”, America asks, as Koku closes his umbrella, and puts it on the door frame, knocking on the door softly but surely. “I thought the Nippon family are rich.”

Koku chuckles, the sun’s rays dripping down on everything it touches, the flowers facing towards it, “I’m not doing this for money; I’m doing this to help others.”

America raises a brow, smirking all the while as they wait for someone to tell them to come in or for someone to open the door.

“Who are you tutoring this desolate and rainy afternoon?”, America asks, impatiently tapping her foot, soaked by the rain and dreaming about the warm, running water on her body, caressing her gently, letting her through a land where warmth ruled over the cold climates, where she was in the seas’ shores herself.

Once America asks Koku the question, his smile immediately falters, his grey eyes lacing with irritation as he sighs exhaustedly; whoever he was tutoring must be quite a handful if even one of the most patient and relaxed people would sigh before entering their humble abode.

“Coming!”, an all too familiar voice rings from the inside, as feet thud from the stairs and the door knob twisting and turning.

America then comes face-to-face with Daehan Imsi, whose warm smile immediately falters at the sight of Koku, as if he was the death of all the flowers and seeds in his garden, the annoying little weed to all plants, the parasite thriving in his body. His dark blue eyes turn an icy cold, calculating the dark-haired boy in front of him with such intensity, to the point that even Koku’s forehead was forming beads of sweat. Then he turns to face America with a raised brow, and America puts a finger to her lips, to which Imsi understood, and turns back to Koku with an unreadable look.

“Konnichiwa, Imsi-wa”, Koku says, bowing as he says it. “I believe it’s time for Minguk’s lesson?”

If Koku was aware of Imsi’s apparent distaste for him, he was not showing it; Imsi did not say anything for a full minute, lips curling as he looks everywhere but Koku, before forcing a smile on his face, once he glances at America again. “Yes, it’s time for Minguk’s lesson… unsu nappeuge.”

Imsi leads Koku inside his home first, and once America follows him inside, Imsi stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“What are you doing with him?”, Imsi asks in a hushed tone, his eyes pinned on Koku, who takes off - America’s - his coat and puts it on the coat rack neatly. “Do you and your brothers have a plan to stop Teikoku?”

America bites her lower lip, whether telling Imsi would be a good call or not.

“Look, can we talk in a much…”, she glances at Koku who was busily studying the table for any crumbs of food before he dumps the pens and pencils he keeps on his pockets, “safer setting?”

Imsi stares at America for a moment, before nodding.

“Why, if it isn’t my favourite babo!”, Minguk exclaims cheerily, making his way to the living room with a few books and pencils for what seems like Calculus. He sits on one of the chairs eagerly, but there was an intense hatred in his eyes at the boy right in front of him, his smile hiding malice and torrents of loathing towards him. “So, what’re you going to teach me today?”

There clearly was an unadulterated loathing for Koku.

“We’re going to answer a few exercises first”, Koku says calmly and professionally, as if he was more of a teacher and not a home schooled boy being puppeteered around by his father.

Then, a woman whom America had never seen before (but although looks vaguely familiar) exits from one of the rooms carrying a couple of books and a tray of tea walks to the dining room, “Thank you for the company Imsi; your company comforts me every time-” She freezes suddenly, her eyes now locked on Koku, her hands shaking as she drops everything she’s holding down to the floor. The rigid silence is only broken by the sound of shattering tea cups, screaming a tune of horror as they plummet down to their deaths in the cold hard floor, spilling tea everywhere, but it doesn’t seem like the woman is concerned by its boiling properties, her eyes still pinned on Koku with a hint of panic, fear, and horror mixing in her eyes. Her body starts to shake, eyes brimming with tears.

“T-Teikoku?”, she stammers, shaking a little, her breathing becoming ragged and desperate, like she had no air left in her. “Please don’t… make me come back…” She was choking now, sobbing and giving out a few gasps for air, clearly having a panic attack.

Koku looks confused, clearly concerned at the woman who is now trying to breathe hard, as if his mere presence is taking away her oxygen. “You must be mistaken; I’m Koku. My brother’s Teikoku.”

The woman gives out another choked gasp as she runs back to her room, locking it.

No one even dared break the tense silence, Imsi and Minguk’s eyes pinned on Koku, who was staring at the room that was locked, concerned, worried and confused at why her reaction to seeing him was like that. Imsi and Minguk glare at Koku with a burning intensity, lips curling in utter abhorring for someone. The flames in their eyes rival Japan’s morning glow, as he stands awkwardly, still waiting for the proper time to excuse himself from them both.

“... Sit down, Ilbon”, Imsi says with a tone of detesting, and he turns to look at America, “Ije, gaja.”

America touches Koku’s shoulder, giving him a comforting look, saying, “It’s alright, it’s not your fault”, before following Imsi to the woman’s room.

“Who is she?”, America whisper-asks at Imsi, who was still glaring daggers at Koku, who in turn was biting his lip, gazing down at the floors.

“Her name’s Shanghai”, Imsi replies, focusing on the closed door, “I found her roaming the streets all scared and afraid two days ago.”

“Have you ever asked her where she lived before coming here?”, America asks, skeptic of the newcomer. “Have you ever thought of consolidating with us? The police department before you let her stay with you?”

Imsi gives her a testing glare, “Shanghai doesn’t seem to like the police.”

“But still”, America retorts, glaring back at the man in front of her, “you should’ve talked to us about her first.”

They hear sniffling from inside the room, and Imsi’s glare turns more to a worried look, as he softly raps on the door. “Shanghai? Gwaenchanh euseyo? Mwoga munje ya?”

There was no reply from the other side of the door, just incoherent whispers and whimpers at the other side of the door.

Imsi knocks on the door once again, still quite concerned for the woman who was whimpering softly, “Please talk to me, Shanghai. You seemed to have a history with Teikoku.”

They hear the door clicking, and Shanghai peeks her head from the slightly ajar door, her terrified eyes staring at Koku, who was now teaching Minguk.

(The both of them did not look in the mood though, with Koku droning on and on about more quadratic and algebraic functions while Minguk was glaring at his tutor, wanting to put a bullet on his head.)

“He’s going to drag me away”, Shanghai murmurs shakily, her face stained with tears, her lip quivering as she looks back at Koku. “H-he’s going to put me back-”

“No he won’t”, America interjects, her gaze hardening, intent to play the hero once again. “I won’t let him take you away.”

Shanghai stares at America, her eyes shaking, before going back to staring at Imsi, petrified.

“Can we come inside though?”, Imsi asks softly, looking into Shanghai’s eyes.

Shanghai widens the entrance of her door, and America and Imsi walk in.

All Koku has to say about this situation is that it was the most awkward meeting he has had with the Korean family; even much awkward than him meeting Minguk and Imsi which was, as he put it, a disaster.

(He is clearly aware of their distasteful looks - and attitude - they radiate towards him, but he does not call him out on their behavior.)

But when that woman came in, she had looked into Koku’s eyes, it wasn’t hatred or anger that overtook her; it was pure fear, as if he had done many faults to her family but she is the one to have paid the price, from her hollow and haunted eyes and the way she seemed to recognize him more as his brother than himself- as always, most of the time.

Sometimes it exhausts Koku; the fact that most recognize him as ‘Teikoku’s brother’ and not his own self gives him issues if he would be following in his brother’s footsteps- his ruinous and destructive footsteps to the future. Sometimes Koku’s mind will plague and hypothesize if he will become just like his brother in the near future, evil clutching beneath his palms, forfeiting lives like it was nothing, revelling in people’s pain like it was nothing.

Koku bites his lip, remembering how his mother had looked at him in her final moments.

He tries to make sure he doesn’t look and act like Teikoku.

Which is futile, as his physical appearance reminds everyone more of Teikoku than his actual self, and he is getting sick of this whole thing.

So what if his brother had done a lifetime worth of crimes?

He feels everyone’s eyes on him, always, calculating and cold, as icy as the most isolated tundras in the Poles, calculating, as if one wrong move they were going to feed him to the wolves and watch his corpse then be fed to the butterflies, crunching on his bones, forever and ever. They had rights to hate him, of course; they just think they were being discreet with the way their eyes flare up with loathing once he enters one room, discreet with the way they were lowkey trying to insult him and his family, perhaps taking jabs at how his mother is dead.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling himself suffocate despite the glaring contest being over; Japan doesn’t want anything to do with Teikoku, if he has to be honest.

He sighs, energy drained from his meeting with Weimar and the teenager next to him, who can’t even conclude the difference between each solution unless Koku grabs his pencil and starts to graph out the solutions and formulas that he had given this dense boy two pages ago. How is it when he visits Minguk for a session, Minguk’s ruler doesn’t end up on his hands and rather, on his nose like the incomprehensive dimwit he was.

They have been going on about quadratic formulas for a week by now, but it seems that Minguk’s brain couldn’t wrap around such a simple equation, always asking questions he supposedly knows the answer and solution to.

Sometimes Koku’s brain supplies that Minguk is doing this to spite him- indeed, he hadn’t been fond of Koku ever since he volunteered to be his tutor.

(Don’t tell Minguk that Koku has seen his report card and all of his subjects were straight A’s, so something must clearly be afoot.)

He shoves a few worksheets Koku has solved himself earlier today, and while Minguk is busy pretending he is unaware of graphing the domain and range, Koku’s mind reverts to America.

He can’t wrap the idea of what his brain wants from her; sometimes she’s in his thoughts like a sweet memory, a morning star to rival the moon arising from the tides for the small waves to rack the shores… sometimes she was like an annoying little weed he has difficulty removing from his vast garden of literal death.

There was something in her that made his mind do a complete 180 from what he was doing, focusing back to her, always her, now and forever.

America makes him feel… like he is complete, like he has nothing to hide from the woman as she cosies up to him, and with cheeks pink he opens his mouth and tells her a secret, one at a time, in random, unravelling the knot growing inside his stomach, because talking to America had made the entire air around them feel natural, like his entire life did not revolve around the man who ruined his life from the start of his fate cutting in half.

He feels something with America, something peculiar and twisted because his heart goes haywire for the way she looks at him, even if she looks annoyed or panicked or suspicious, a look is a look.

Koku always immediately goes warm whenever he thinks of her, so flawless with her looks but flawed with her attitude and personality, lips always curled into a thin line and her eyes serious, but when she smiles or laughs, it brings him complete and utter joy, a flower blooming in spring as dew touches its stem, the bright and warm sun behind it, guiding the flower to the right path.

He can feel butterflies in his stomach every time he looks at her, like it was the end of the world but she’d be his saviour.

It’s honestly panicking how a simple smile and touch is enough to make him melt.

Why does she make him feel like that?

“Koku?”, an irritating voice snaps Koku out from his thoughts, and he goes back to giving Minguk an undermining look. He was looking up at Japan with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and he opens his mouth, but before he opens his mouth he stops him right there,

“Don’t bother”, Japan sighs as he inspects the item Minguk is ‘stuck’ on, feeling Minguk grin beside him. “I can do your homework myself.”

Meanwhile, America was pacing Shanghai’s room, muttering a few phrases to herself as Imsi calms a still shaken Shanghai down, who was saying that Koku was going to drag her away. Which is puzzling- did this woman have a history with the Nippon family? Because it seems quite obvious that she has, since the first emotion she reacted outwards to Koku was pure, unadulterated fear.

Then an idea lights up: maybe Shanghai had ran afoul of Teikoku once; maybe she was held captive by the bastard for something.

From Shanghai’s wild eyes and shaking body, perhaps she actually had an encounter with the bastard.

Not a good one, though.

America’s brain comes back to the woman’s name: Shanghai.

The name sounds familiar, like a pearl falling to the waters and its owner desperately trying to differentiate each and every single one of the artefacts, trying to find which is which in the vast sea of pearls being offered out to them. Shanghai was calming down now, Imsi soothing her while giving her hushed whispers of comfort. America studies the woman’s face, trying to put a finger to where she had seen it before, once again putting one real face over another printed one, in those damned Wanted and Missing posters that are littered around her office, and she still couldn’t be bothered to study each one of them.

America thinks the woman’s name was familiar, from a bunch of documents she had studied years ago, knowing that she was one of Minguo’s mob members.

Zhonghua Minguo, who disappeared from the face of the earth a decade ago, leaving all his territories and old members at the mercy of other mafia mobs.

Imsi rubs Shanghai’s back soothingly, as she buries her face into her hands, curling to a fetal position as the only man in the room glances at America.

“So, what’re you doing following that bastard?”, Imsi asks, a poisonous tone in his voice, hatred in his eyes as he glares at the door. “Do you have a plan to get Teikoku arrested and my sister-in-law out of wherever she is?”

“Canada’s doing the spying in the brothels”, America explains, her eyes on the door, “I’m trying to get answers on the inside.”

Imsi’s glare hardens through the door, a black hole to Koku’s galaxy, “Do you have any evidence that Teikoku’s doing something more than a normal mafia crime here and there?”

“Some compelling evidence, but not compelling enough”, America replies, her eyes on a shaking Shanghai.

“Why are you with Koku, then?”

“Canada told me to play bodyguard with the guy’s brother.”

“And? Did you extract any secrets from him if Teikoku is hard to get through?”

America shrugs, “I mean, he’s only talking about his life, but not to Teikoku’s schemes. And from one of Australia and New Zealand’s statements, he wasn’t really stoked on his marriage to Ost.”

Imsi rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, “Just because he isn’t shown to be ‘aware’ of his brother’s deeds doesn’t deem him innocent! Give me one good reason to take pity on Teikoku’s family, aside from that bastard being their brother and father.”

America purses her lips, her mind going back to Koku’s warm summer smile and ruffly dark hair, his grey eyes piercing her with thunder and lighting, stormy grey clouds giving her solace as she takes shelter from the rain; frankly, she has no idea why her mind is acting like this around Koku- perhaps it was just because he was one of the only people who looked at her without wanting something from her.

She meets Imsi’s eyes, still firm and filled with hatred for the Nippon family that ruined his life all those years ago.

“Look, I don’t like Teikoku too”, America responds, “but I gotta say, his family is quite pleasant to be around with-”

“Yes yes, ‘pleasant’”, Imsi spits acidly, “but that doesn’t mean ttong to me. Teikoku has my gajog, and he’s torturing her as we speak.”

America’s eyes hover back to Shanghai, something clicking inside of her to why her reaction to Koku being in the same room as her was explosive. She stretches, hands back on her head, staring right back at Imsi.

“Meanwhile, you have one of Teikoku’s properties”, America deadpans, gazing at the woman, who stiffens at America’s statement, then goes back to shaking once again, muttering and whimpering, as Imsi’s glare hardens, daggers staring at guns.

“How dare you address her like that!”, Imsi berates, more like an offended father supporting his child than a man who was trying to tell someone they were incorrect. “She is not one of Teikoku’s ‘properties’, and even if she is there’s a reason why she left hell.”

“She’s the woman Canada saved”, America states, unhindered from Imsi’s outburst like he was a petulant child in need of discipline, “she’s a prostitute, Imsi.”

“How dare you!”, Imsi shoots back, “how dare you call her that! You think you know better?! You think that just because she is a prostitute means that you have full right to shame her of her shortcomings?! Shame on you, Migug!”

“N-no”, comes Shanghai’s croaked voice, looking up at America, her face wet with tears, her make-up ruined from drenching it whole. She was staring at America with large eyes, full of insecurity and secrets, her entire body still shaking with a magnitude that will rival an earthquake that Poseidon would wreck upon humanity. “S-she’s right, Imsi- I came from Teikoku.”

America did not look proud or held herself in a prideful disposition, keeping a straight face as she let Shanghai continue.

Imsi shakes his head, eyes shining with worry and sadness. “N-no, there has to be some mistake-”

“No mistake”, Shanghai breathes, trying to level her breathing, lungs cracking underneath the pressure. “I was one of Teikoku’s… toys.”

Imsi repeatedly shakes his head, still possessing the sad look on his eyes. “No. even if you are, you don’t deserve to call yourself that.”

Shanghai gives Imsi a glassy-eyed look, “You say that but that won’t help me overcome the truth, Imsi.” She escapes from Imsi’s grasp, who was still denying the truth despite the fact it is hanging right in front of him, telling him of a great wide truth that has been accepted by the two girls in the room. Shanghai’s back hunches, body shaking as she starts to crackle into nerve-wracking sobs. “I don’t deserve your kindness. I’m just a whore a cop saved since I couldn’t even save myself.”

The room lapses into another awkward and rigid silence, complete with Imsi staring at Shanghai, face clouding with sadness, trying to think of ways to help the woman. Her shaking body was like the land shaking as another earthquake hits the place involuntarily, a hardy and sturdy resolve within her, her tears are the rain flowing down to kiss the ground with the daintiest and softest of lips.

Slowly but surely, Imsi parts his lips to speak, low, soft, and all the more fatherly, “You deserve my kindness, Shanghai. I don’t care if you were held captive by Teikoku, you are still a person. Don’t you ever forget that, jinju gat-eun i ttawi.”

The statement causes Shanghai to sob slightly quieter, but her mourning and shame was still evident. Imsi does his best to comfort her once again, more like a patronising and selfless father than a caretaker.

But there is no more time left to mourn.

America composes herself, “Shanghai, do you know this man’s sister-in-law?”

The sobbing woman in front of her tries controlling her sobs to comprehend the question. “W-what’s her name?” She glances at Imsi, who was biting his lip, before standing to search the entire room.

Imsi comes back later with a photo of a bright young woman, looking more like the twins’ sister rather than a mother with her smiling, youthful face, golden eyes staring into America’s soul, pearly white teeth directed towards her husband (a man who resembled Imsi’s look too much it was haunting that a dead man can live within someone’s looks), who was wrapping an arm around her, not looking into the camera and rather at his wife. Imsi offers the photo to Shanghai, who gasps softly of familiarity, eyes on the young woman.

“Do you know her?”, Imsi asks softly, gazing down at the picture with Shanghai, but his eyes were pinned on her husband, the other half of his soul, which had been rudely taken away by someone much crueller than death.

Shanghai traces the woman’s image, trying to get a vision in the past that she was real and not rather a digital adaptation. “Nabi… is your wife?”

Imsi’s eyes visibly go wide, before awkwardly chuckling and shaking his head, his dark eyes pinned on his twin once again. “No- she was my brother’s wife, Jeguk.” His reassuring stare morphs into a sad look. “He died a long time ago.”

She meets Imsi’s sad stare, “I’m sorry.”

He recollects himself, “It’s fine. It’s just… I haven’t seen my sister-in-law for ages. Is she with you?”

Shanghai nods, averting her gaze, “Y-yes… Nabi’s condition in our place is complicated, to say the least.”

“What did Teikoku do to her?”, Imsi asks, a fire flaring in his voice, trying to signal a blaze, “if I get my hands on him I’ll-”

“She was his… favourite”, Shanghai badgers on, lips quivering, either from terror or disgust. “Many other clients seem to think so.”

Imsi’s face changes, his arms going slack, his dark eyes full of defiance against a regime becoming empty with realisation. He slowly turns to Shanghai, a look of horror in his face.

“I… I should’ve saved her from Teikoku, all those years ago”, Imsi responds, shaking his head, biting his lip, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill and destroy his facade of calmness. “It’d be better if I was dead but at least the twins would still have their mother.” He caresses his left shoulder, as if a long lasting wound was there.

“No, don’t say that”, Shanghai reassures, “Nabi told us about her family. About you and her twin sons. About her dead husband, too much to the point she would become heart sick. If you died, it’d be another heartbreak for Nabi… and what about her children? She wouldn’t have picked a better caretaker than you.”

Imsi’s eyes cross with Shanghai’s much livelier one; as if talking about Nabi had gained her spirit, as if she is once again independent.

“And I was good at keeping her sons together”, Imsi replies, eyes on the floor, but America knows who he was talking about.

Inmin.

The girl and the boy were walking side-by-side, shielding themselves from the rain underneath an umbrella, the girl’s arm linking with the boy, both of them at peace, both of them looking as if they are enlightened from many of what they’ve just endured this day. The rain didn’t seem to bother the both of them anymore, something in their touch halting their chance at caring at everything that nature seemed to throw at them, their touches becoming one and the same, warmth surrounding the both of them, no coat and all.

“How’s your day?”, America asks, looking up at Koku, a serene smile and face being lit up by the lamp posts around the sidewalk, stepping on a puddle.

“My day’s great, thank you very much”, comes a chipper reply, his grey eyes stuck on America’s face once again, loving her smile. “Anata ga soko ni itakara.”

America blinks, trying to make sense of Koku’s statement, “Eh?”

Koku just chuckles, handling the umbrella tightly, smiling brighter at America. “Nanimonai.”

Guten Abend- good afternoon Gifu- father-in-law Es tut mir leid- I’m sorry Shiroi bara- white roses unsu nappeuge- unfortunately Ije gaja- let’s go now Gwaenchanh euseyo- are you okay Mwoga munje ya- what’s wrong Gajog- family Jinju gat-eun i ttawi- pearl Anata ga soko ni itakara- because you were there Nanimonai- nothing

#mine #writing #you're shooting your bullet the wrong way #countryhumans #countryhumans america #countryhumans japan #countryhumans east germany #countryhumans germany #countryhumans weimar republic #countryhumans kpg #countryhumans south korea #cityhumans shanghai #ameripan

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 6 years ago

Note

Scene 1: mitsuhide: Obi, do you know if kiki has a lover? Obi: It's me. Scene 2: shirayuki: obi jokes around but he doesn't lie. The rest is left to you 👍

Prompts are currently closed while I catch up. I will announce when I am open! :)

A/N: Another, and hopefully last, sneak peak of Best Laid Plans out of the prompt pile before I get a chance to work on the actual story. This may or may not make it into the final draft.

Sorry, no Mitsuhide here. Just Suzu, Shirayuki, Obi, and a MYSTERY :3

It’s been less than a month since Ryuu left for Wistal.

As much as she was happy for him, as much as her chest swells with pride whenever he sends missives back detailing his new role, she misses him. No longer was he there to tuck himself into the library with her late at night, half buried by his own pile of books. No longer did she have company for breakfast if Obi took to the wall overnight. No longer did his steady presence fill up his corner of the pharmacy with quiet mumbling and quick scratches of the pen. Instead, his space was neat, clean, and… entirely void.

Obi tells her that it will get easier with time. That he’ll come to visit before she knows it. But right here, right now, standing before the prescription cabinet, she has never has she felt his absence more keenly.

Teas spill over from their containers, their script usually so neat and tidy now smudged and illegible. Bottles clink together in disarray, tipping over and mixing suspensions too soon, and thelittle packets of herbal mixes are not filed so much as flung into their boxes.

Sighing, Shirayuki pushes up her sleeves and gets to work.

Ordering the bottles into neat lines, she pulls the prescription packets out onto the table top with a swoop of her arm. Picking up one hereand another one there, she reorders each until they make a straight line in order by the names she can make out in the top corner. There’s a couple that are more scrawl than letters, ones that she can figure out with a little more scrutiny and perhaps a talk with Yuuha, but one stands out. It doesn’t have a name so much as a symbol, the inky body of what looks to be a cat lazes across the parchment, the curl of its tail long and looping.

“Suzu?” Shirayuki frowns, staring at the hunchedshoulders of a man furiously attempting to wrap up his final report for theday. His shoulders hunch further, ignoring her and Shirayuk winces when she peers over his shoulderat the illegible mess becoming more like scribbles than words. “Do you knowwhat this is?”

Barely sparing her a glance over his shoulder, he dipshis quill in the inkwell and continues on. He must have plans this evening, so eager he is to leave. “It’s a prescription.”

There are days that she really likes Suzu. Days that sheappreciates him for his intelligence and his candor. And yet there are also days like todaythat she wonders just who raised him. “Yes,” she huffs, holding it towards himin the hope that he’ll actually lookthis time. “But this one doesn’t have a name on it.”

“I always code the medication,” he lies. “It must havebeen one of the apprentices.”

“Suzu.” She is trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, so she flips the packet open, taking a quick sniff. If he can’t identify it, then maybe she can figure out the medication and match it to their records. “Apprentices can’t file themedication without one of us overseeing them.”

“Sounds like one of them didn’t follow procedure,” heshrugs, throwing the quill to the desk and snapping the journal shut before theink has a chance to dry. “And since I am done for the day now, that sounds morelike a Shirayuki problem than a Suzu problem.”

Mouth pressing into a thin line, she stares at him, putting her hands on her hips for good measure.

The look has its intended effect. Eyes flicking to hers, then away, he sets the journal back down on the desk with a weary sigh.

“Does it really nothave anything on it?”

“No,” she shakes her head, looking down at the little packet cradled in the palm of her hand. “Just a drawingof a cat.”

“Ah!” Suzu squawks, flailing after her. “That’smine!”

“Yours?” Shirayuki’s eyes widen. Sniffing the mix again,she can’t help but quirk her lips to the side. “I don’t think you need to worry aboutgetting pregnant, Suzu.”

He flushes, guilty, and ah- she was right!

“Unless!” Her mouth drops open and she closes in on him,looking about the room to make sure they’re alone. “Are you and Yuzuri-”

“What!” He shakes his head and hands, hair going everywhere. “No!”

Shirayuki’s disbelief must be plain as day on her facefor Suzu’s flush deepens, his skin going ruddy-

“It’s, uhm, for somebody else?” he tries.

Raising a single eyebrow, she holds the packet betweenher fore and middle finger like evidence before the magistrate. “Like who?”

Teeth baring in a grimace, he squeaks out, “No one…important?”

“Uh… huh.”

“Look, just give it to me,” he says, opening his palm toher. “I’ll deliver it so you don’t even have to look at it ever again.”

She pulls it back just before he would snatch it from herhand and meets him full to the eyes. He’s staring at her, beseeching, and shewishes she were more like Kiki. Or Garrack. Or Yuzuri. Or any of her friends,really, who seemed to be born with the innate ability to pry secrets from theirtargets with merely a look.

“Fine,” she says, giving in. “But starting tomorrow, I’m taking the day shift back.”

Suzu’s eyes widen, and she thinks she’s found it - that leverage that Kiki always says that she needs to seek out when her earnestness does not work. The protest is on the tip of his tongue, she can tell, the answers to her questions surrounding his mystery patient. This is her pharmacy, too, after all, she needs to know in case there is some unintended reaction, but-

But the surprise just melts away to a weary acceptance. Suzu nods, plucking the prescription from between her fingers. “Deal.”

~ ~ ~

It’s after he leaves that she lets the guilt gnaw at her.

In the silence of the pharmacy after nightfall, she has nothing but the soothing movement of turning herbs to paste, the piles of papers that need to be graded, or tidying the organizational system that is woefully underutilized in its creators absence. But she can’t bring her mind to focus, can’t find a second to stop remembering that the last look Suzu gave her before he left looked like- like disappointment.

Gnawing on her lip, she paces, trying to outrun the feeling, but it’s no good. Yes, it’s her pharmacy, but it is his, too. And maybe he had a reason - a good reason - to keep it a secret. She had but to ask and-

Shirayuki looks towards the burner, it’s supply of coals surprisingly low, and all her good graces abruptly disappear.

He had all day - all day! - to restock it, and three apprentices at his side, to boot! But a quick check of the stores proves what has been right the last week all along, no matter how often she reminded them. The burlap is distressingly empty, nothing more than a few pebbles lining the bottom of the bag.

Huffing, Shirayuki jots down a quick note - Will Return Soon! - in her cleanest script, throws on her coat, and is immediately almost blown over by a gust of freezing wind the second she walks out the door.

Hugging herself, she crosses the wall, holding her head down to give the wind as little bare skin as possible to attack. It’s only because she has her head bowed that she sees it, sees him. Suzu. Down on the streets below. She stops, his name on her lips, ready to let the sleeping population of Lyrias know just how inconsiderate of a coworker he is, when she witnesses him draws something from his pocket.

The words she wants to hurl wither on her tongue before they can even form. Without really even knowing why, she ducks a little, peering over the ramparts.

He’s talking to someone, someone half in shadows. A hand reaches out, slim, and takes the packet from him. There’s a pause, Suzu nodding with one of his slow moving shrugs that only appears when he has a meeting with Lata.

Curious.

Thankfully, it’s over quick - the wind is bitter tonight - and he turns to go, leaving his companion in the dark. Shirayuki lingers for a moment, wondering if she will appear, and is just about to give up when-

When she appears from the shadows, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of spiced ale and- and-

That is not who she was expecting.

~ ~ ~

“You’re being awfully quiet today.”

“Hmm?” Shirayuki chirps, pulled back from her muzzy thoughts.In the early morning hours, lulled by the sound of snow crunching underfoot, it is easy to get lost in the silence, to let amystery unravel on the long winding paths to the dormitories.

“I think-” Shirayuki chews her lower lip, glancing at Obifrom beneath the fan of her lashes. The snow is coming down so silent and so thick that they catch on everything.

Obi laughs, dusting flakes off of the spikes of hishair. The movement is happy, relaxed. She’s been seeing it more and more since he returned from- from the Bargette incident.

“…you think?” he prompts.

So much changed out there. Off, where she could not follow any of them.

It is because of this that the words pull slowly from her, carefully. “I think… Kiki has a lover.”

Obi chuckles. “I wonder.”

She knew it.

“You know!” Her grin spreads wide when his face falls,because of course – of course Obiknows. She grabs ahold of his forearm, bouncing a little when his eyes widen insurprise. “Tell me!”

His mouth gapes, his face darkening with a helpless little flush, and he knows.

“Well,” he coughs, grin pained. “I guess you caught us, Miss.”

The smile drops right off her face like it jumped from a sheer cliff. “Be serious, Obi.”

He stares at her. “I am.”

She stares right back and he’s- he’s teasing her. Stalling for time. He’s got tobe. The mysterious underbelly of Lyrias was something he and his men alone wereprivy to and now here she was, uncovering a mystery he didn’t know how to solve. “Fine,”she sniffs. “If you’re not going to take me seriously, I’ll figure it out on myown.”

“Miss,” helaughs, trailing behind her. “I’m not lying-”

“Just you wait, Obi!” she calls behind her, bootscrunching a new path underfoot. “I’ll figure it out with or without your help!”

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki (kinda)#kikiobi (sorta)#:3 #best laid plans #akai-vampire

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 7 years ago

Text

Heartbeat Confession

Title: Heartbeat Confession

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2511

Summary: Sam and Dean are sent on a Wendigo case. Since Sam’s best friend, Y/N, is close to town, he decides to invite her along hoping to get Dean and her on better terms. Although Dean and Y/N don’t get along, a confession is revealed.

Warnings: Slight Angst, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Slight Mature Language.

A/N: This fic was inspired by a couple of quotes from Supernatural, Season 1, Episode 2: Wendigo (quote/prompt will be in bold). It set off a thought in my head and eventually began to manifest into something bigger (not too big, but bigger than the initial thought I had), so I wrote it down to share with you all. I hope you like it! If you do, let me know! If you don’t, then that’s okay. You may go about your day!

Disclaimer: Gif found on google.

“It’s chow time, you freaky bastard!” Dean shouted. “Yeah, that’s right. Bring it on, baby! I taste good!” He added.

Such a cocky son of a bitch.

“Tch, I bet you taste bitter,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you did.

Dean shifted his face, glancing over at you with a scornful glare, “and you’d taste salty,” He retorted.

“Seriously guys? Can you not do this right now?” Sam interrupted, completely done with his brother’s and best friend’s never-ending bickering. It was indifference at first sight and Sam was determined to get you guys to break that barrier and become buddies, which was why you were on the case in the first place. Sam thought bringing you on a case would bring you and Dean closer together, but he was quickly beginning to regret it.

“Sorry Sam, your brother just gets under my skin,” you muttered, tossing a small pebbled at Dean’s head.

“Hey!” He snapped, his eyes filled with fiery green flames. You smirked in return. “The feeling is mutual, sweetheart.” There was venom in his voice, Dean really didn’t like you, and deep inside your gut it hurt, but then again, you couldn’t care less. You weren’t exactly sure what ticked you off about him, but ever since that one night at the bar, after he left with some brunette with big boobs, you had seen him in a different light, and from then on, you found him intolerable.

“You guys are such children!” Sam groaned, trudging ahead of you and his brother.

“She started it,” Dean stated, passing you to catch up with Sam.

“Real mature there, Deano,” you mumbled, following the brothers.

“The both of you just cut it out!” Sam scolded.

As you took a step, the ground beneath your foot gave out making you trip and fall, causing you to hiss at the slight pain in your ankle. Dean turned noticing you and was about to help when a rumbling sound made all of you go still, listening to what it could be.

Dust and stone began to fall between you and Dean, and just before Dean and Sam could leap in to save you, the cave had given out and a wall of stone separated you from the guys.

“Y/N!” You could hear Sam and Dean calling for you.

“I’m okay!” You shouted back, swatting the dusty air while removing your foot from the hole. You aimed your flashlight to examine the extent of your injury only to find out that it was sprained. Inwardly cursing yourself, you studied the area where you had stepped. You grimaced when you noticed that it wasn’t by accident. This was a trap, deliberately set there. The hole was too precise to be an accident, and the coincident with the falling rocks was too perfect. It had to be some sort of button or trigger to let the rocks fall and separate you from the others. “Shit,” you whispered, ignoring the Winchester’s calling your name.

Growling echoed through the caves, silencing Sam and Dean on the other side. You held your breath attempting to listen to where it was coming from, pointing your flashlight in front of you, down the long tunnel. Was it on your side, or was it there’s? The growl came again, and you could feel the vibrations around you and a gust of wind hit your face. It was coming from your side!

The shouting started up again, Sam and Dean screaming your name. They must have had also realized where the sound was coming from. There was noise coming from the makeshift wall that was blocking you from the guys. You could only guess that they were trying to pull the rocks away. Without hesitation and ignoring the throbbing pain in your ankle, you too did your hurried best to clear an opening.

The growling was getting louder and the panic in you started to pick up. All you had on you was your gun, a knife, and your flashlight, all the things that wouldn’t do anything to kill the monster. Sam had the backpack with all the flares, gasoline, and matches.

“Son of a bitch!” You heard Dean curse, his voice muffled by the barrier. You figured that they were having the same problem as you were. Every time you removed a stone, another would only fall to take its place.

“Dean, it’s coming from my side,” you gritted, forcing a rock to move.

After a few failed tugs, your body went stiff. Hair softly flew to the front of your face as warm air fanned against your neck. As still as possible, you slowly and discretely moved your hands for your gun, but before you could even get your hand remotely close to it, your body was swept away and there was nothing but scorching pain. All you remembered was screaming until everything went black.

While Sam and Dean dug through the rubble as fast as they could, they jolted back a little when they heard you scream followed by a gravely growl. Their eyes widened with fear, Dean mossy orbs turning into raging emerald flames. He wasn’t going to let that bastard take you, not while he was alive.

“Dean!” Sam called to him but Dean didn’t stop. He kept moving the rocks away, desperately trying to get a clearing. “Dean! C’mon, this is useless! Let’s hurry and find another way around. These caves are all interconnected; we can find another way. She has time.”

“We don’t know that!” Dean hissed, staring at his younger brother. “Look, Y/N is my best friend. I want her safe and back at our side too, but we need to think about this. Remember what you told me? ‘Work smarter, not harder’.”

Dean was silent for a second, his jaw clenching and flexing in the dim light from their flashlights. “Fine. And next time, don’t you ever quote me to me!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She’s gonna be okay. She’s tough, not to mention a badass.”

“Yeah, I know. But we should have been protecting her.”

“And we will. We’re gonna save her.”

Dean cared for you a lot. Although he did very little to show it. Sam knew as well, despite all the bickering, harsh teasing, and glaring glances, he knew that they were all a defense mechanism on your end and Dean was just being stubborn.

You didn’t have to say anything for Sam to know. He was your best friend after all. That night Dean left with a girl from the bar hurt you, and since then, you pushed him away with hatred forcing yourself to believe the lies you were telling yourself. Dean in turn, thought about you constantly, wished that things were different, but he wasn’t doing anything to help the situation. He just made it worse by adding fuel to the fire.

A throbbing sensation coming from your head broke you away from the dream you were having. A dream filled with Dean. The metallic taste in your mouth brought you back to reality, making you sigh and curse inwardly. Your wrists were in pain and your ankle felt like knives were being pushed into them. When your eyes finally did open, everything was black. You couldn’t see anything until your eyes adjusted, enabling you to see the bare minimum in the pitch darkness.

Bones were scattered all over the ground, backpacks and other materials gathered in a pile. On either side of you you noticed two other people suspended off the ground by ropes tied around their wrists. You peered up to see that you were bound the same way. Groaning in agony and frustration, you tried to wriggle yourself to test just how tight the ties were, and they were pretty damn secure.

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper-shouted, hoping to get one of their attentions.

“It’s no use,” someone spoke. “We’re goners.”

You followed the voice to the man on your left. He was battered up much worse than the woman on your right.

“Are you Josh?” You questioned, disregarding what he said earlier.

“How’d you know?” He responded back.

“Well, I’m here to save you.”

He groaned. “That makes me feel a lot better,” he mumbled, sarcasm rich in his tone. “I mean, I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but how the hell are you supposed to save us when you’re in the same boat?”

“I didn’t come alone,” you told him in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Then where are your pals?”

“Don’t worry about it, their coming,” you spat, unable to keep your temper in check.

Another moaning sound filled the dank cave. It was the girl.

“Oh god, why am I still alive?” Her voice shook violently, tears streaming down her cheeks. She might have looked better than Josh, but she sounded so much worse.

“Hey, calm down. What’s your name?” You asked.

“T-taylor,” she stuttered.

“Hey Taylor, don’t worry, my friends are coming.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s gonna come back and kill me! I’m next. I’ve been here the longest!” She sobbed.

You were about to say something when growling filled the room. Taylor screamed, fear evident in her voice. She was begging for mercy, begging for the wendigo to let her go, but her screams instantly turned into gurgling and then silence.

“No!” Josh shouted, mortified at what he had just witnessed.

You on the other hand had your eyes wide open, your heart thumping violently against your sternum and rib cage. Death came with this life you lived, and you’d think that you’d be used to it by now, but you didn’t. It never got better, it only got worse. Another name, another body, another innocent human under your belt, knowing that you couldn’t save them.

As quick as the wendigo appeared, it was gone, leaving you and Josh in the aftershocks of what you both experienced. “No,” your voice was soft with tremble.

“Shit, I’m going to be next!” Josh’s voice wavered. It wasn’t the confident and sarcastic voice from earlier, it was laced with hopelessness and fear. You felt horrible, the guilt beginning to eat away at you.

Some time in the middle of Josh’s shameless weeping, your focus was drawn back to your ankle, wrists, and the thumping in your head. The pain was becoming too intense that you eventually blacked out.

A familiar scent and the motion of your body bouncing, brought you back to full consciousness. You let out a gasp and then a grunt as your arms tightened around Dean’s neck. “Dean,” you breathed.

“I got you sweetheart,” he huffed. You had no clue how long he had been carrying you, but you were so glad that he was, that he and Sam had rescued you, that you were safe.

“This way,” you heard Sam’s voice. Just a few feet ahead, Sam had Josh clung around his shoulder, steadying him as they walked.

“What happened?” You whispered in Dean’s ear. He let out a soft grunt, but loud enough for you to hear before he spoke.

“We found you and we don’t know where the son of a bitch is,” he explained briefly.

“I can walk,” you told him.

“Shut up and let me get you out of here. I don’t want you passing out again.” A pout formed on your lips, not wanting to argue with your savior.

Glancing behind you, all you could see was blackness, your eyes needing to adjust. As Dean took a turn, following Sam’s lead, an opening appeared. The light at the end of the tunnel was enough to give you the slightest sliver of hope.

There was another tunnel on the side, the same one the three of you decided to take instead of going straight when you entered. Sam passed it with ease, Dean following suit. Just as you and Dean was about to pass the tunnel, you gasped, but it was too late. The monster lunged forward, crashing into you and Dean, sending the both of you flying towards the wall. Dean had fallen unconscious being that he had taken most of the blow. You scrambled to move him out of the way just in time to save him from being squashed, but not enough time to get your ankle out of the way. You screamed knowing that the sprain was more than that now. Your ankle was broken.

“Shit!” You cursed, tears unwillingly making their way down your face.

Just as the wendigo stood up straight, most likely about to kill you, it went up in flames, screeching in anguish. Sam had shot a flare gun at the monster. You held on to Dean as you watched it burn. Sam was at your side in a second, grabbing Dean while Josh carefully lifted you off the ground bridal style, not wanting to disturb your broken foot.

Out in the clearing, you all took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling most of the weight fall off your shoulders. Josh set you down on a boulder, before slumping down on the ground beside you. Sam laid Dean on the earthy floor breathing heavily as he attempted to wake up his brother.

“Dean, hey. C’mon man, I need you to wake up.” Sam gave Dean’s cheek a little smack which earned a growl from the older Winchester.

Dean sat up, rubbing his head to soothe the bruise quickly forming.

“Hey Dean, how you feeling?” You asked from your seated position, wincing slightly at your ankle.

“C’mon, let’s get a move on,” Sam stated, standing up before going over to Josh and helping him up, slinging his arm over his shoulder like he did before. “I need you to carry Y/N, she busted her ankle trying to save you,” Sam smirked.

Dean shrugged it off and didn’t hesitate to take you into his arms. You don’t know why, but your face heated up. There was something in the way that Dean held you, firm, tight, and secure. It made you feel safer than you’ve ever felt before. Even though Josh had carried you this way not long ago, knowing that it was Dean sent your heart aflutter.

“Your heart is pounding,” he mumbled, loud enough for only you to hear.

“Yeah? Well, so is yours,” you replied, and it was true. You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat through his chest.

“It’s just the effect you have on me,” he confessed, not bothering to make eye contact with you and fixing his gaze on his brother’s back.

“W-what?” you stammered, not believing what Dean had just said.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he scoffed, a dust of pink forming on his cheeks.

Unable to control the butterflies in your stomach and how full your heart felt by his rough voice, you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter, pulling him closer to you and pressed your lips to his. Dean stopped in his tracks, shocked at first but quickly reveling in the foreign feel of you. It was not what he had ever imagined. It was better.

Hey! Click here to tell me what you think!!

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winterflash-2019 · 7 years ago

Text

Afraid

You were a senior in college and also Barry Allen’s best friend of 10 years. He told you any and everything and you did the same so when he told you that he had super speed of course you believed him. You decided to visit him in Central City since you were on break; it’ll be your first time actually seeing him in a while. He would help you study for exams while you would help him with his Flash duties over the phone sometimes just sometimes the both of you would fall asleep on the phone together and in the morning when you hear Barry say “hello” you smile the biggest smile ever but soon reality hits you as you realize the only woman in Barry’s life romantically was Iris West.

You talked to Iris a couple of times before going off to college. She being a big part of Barry’s life you couldn’t avoid her. You actually told her about your crush on Barry but then you left leaving Barry to her. You were on your flight at the moment, sighing as you looked out the window feeling excited and nervous at the same time but nonetheless you closed your eyes; finally relaxing for what felt like the first time in forever.

You wake up to a tap on your shoulder, seeing the flight attendant in front of you with a smile on your face.

“Sorry to wake you ma’am but we’ve landed”

You nod with a small smile, silently thanking the woman before grabbing your things and walking off the plane. Once you’re off the plane you see people everywhere, making your anxiety rise but you take a deep breath somewhat calming down.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you click on Barry’s name and press the phone against your ear, waiting for him to answer.

“Hello”

“Would you be a dear and please come get your bestest friend in the whole wide world” You quipped but he doesn’t respond instead you hear him talking to some else in the background.

“Bartholomew Allen” You say into the phone, ignoring the elderly woman glaring at your loud tone.

“Huh, sorry y/n I had to tell Joe something but now I’m all yours” You could tell by the tone in his voice he was smirking.

“I said would you please be a dear and pick me up from the airport” Coming to a stop when you hear silence on the other end.

“You’re here?” He gasps into the phone which you smile at.

“Of course I am I told you Barry Allen you can’t get rid of me no matter how hard you try” You giggle and Barry rolls his eyes.

“You’re so lame y/n” He smiles with the shake of his head.

“But you love me”

“Yeah whatever; I’ll be there in 10”

“Great”

You stretch as you sat on the uncomfortable airport bench before spotting Barry and putting your book away.

“About time you show up I was afraid you forgot about me” You tease with raised eyebrows

“Like you’ll let me” He grabs your luggage as you punch him in the shoulder.

“I see you’re still an asshole; some things never change”

“Like your ego?”

“Don’t be an asshat Barr; I just got here” You fold your arms with a smirk as he opens the passenger door.

“Just trying to spice things up a little y/n, don’t get your panties in a twist” He smiles at your silence, finally getting you to hush.

“1 for me 0 for y/n” he mumbles

You walk in Joe’s place behind Barry, sighing as the homey feeling settles your nerves.

“Wow, I missed this place so much” You looked around in awe as you places your hands in your pockets.

“I bet it missed you too now come on so I can show you where you’ll be staying” Following Barry up the stairs you rolled your eyes at his oblivion.

“Barry, I know where your room is have you forgot I was here with you 24/7”

“Yeah well I’m gonna pretend like you wasn’t; by the way Joe’s making dinner tonight and you’re going to be there” He states before setting you luggage on the bed.

“Oh yeah? Who says” You sat on the bed sassily as you looked up at Barry.

“Me, your bestest friend in the whole wide world” He mocks

“Hmm I don’t recall” You smirk and Barry playfully shoves your shoulder.

“Come on, I have some friends I want you to meet” He grabs your hand, pulling you off the bed.

“Wait did you just say friends”

The both of you walk into Star Labs, laughing as you recall old memories.

“Um Barry, are you gonna introduce us to your new friend anytime soon” Cisco curiously questions.

“Oh yeah sorry guys, this is the blood sucking leech that-“

You slap Barry’s arm again and he looks at you while rubbing his arm.

“This is my good friend y/n” He mumbles, putting emphasizes on your name.

“Well it’s nice to meet you y/n, I’m Caitlin this is Cisco and Harry” You smile at the trio already feeling welcomed.

“Hi” you wave and Barry nudges your arm

“What”

“Stop acting nice when you’re really the devil” He jokes and you narrow your eyes at him.

“StOp aCtInG nIcE wHeN yOuRe ReAlLy tHe dEvIl” you mock and he glares at you.

“Love you barr” you giggle

“So y/n how’s university life treating you” Joe asks as he set the table.

“Not good at all; I have finals coming up so that means I have to study while I’m here with you guys” You frown as you rubbed your forehead.

“Stop stressing y/n you’ll be fine” Barry pats the top of your head and you groan.

A knock on the door startles you and Barry goes to answer it.

“Hi Iris” You hear Barry greet her as you walk out the kitchen, coming to a stop when you see her kiss Barry on the cheek.

“Iris hey” You call out with a small smile on your face and she looks at you once she pulls away from Barry’s embrace.

“Y/n hi um what brings you to Central City” She asks, her eyes flicking between you and Barry.

“I’m on break so I decided to come and see how everyone was doing” You anxiously rub your hands against your jeans.

“Oh, great I’m glad you’re doing well”She walks into the kitchen to greet Joe leaving you and Barry awkwardly staring at each other.

“Wanna explain what I just witnessed” You tilt your head with crossed arms and Barry sheepishly shrugs his shoulders.

“Me and Iris are in the process of getting together” He mumbles but you heard him just fine.

“I’m happy for you Barr, you finally got the girl you wanted your entire life” You were hurt although you knew this would happen but you weren’t bitter.

“Thanks y/n” you nod before following him into the dining room and taking a seat next to Joe which was far away from Barry.

“So y/n, tell me any guy in your life” Iris asks as she passes the pasta bowl to Barry.

“Not really; you see I’m just too busy for a relationship” Shrugging your shoulders you stab your fork into your pasta, imagining Barry and Iris in your head.

“Everyone has a soulmate y/n” Iris says before taking a sip of her water

“Yeah well everyone except me” Your eyes snap to Barry’s who was grinning at you.

“What is so funny Bartholomew” You lean back in your chair as all the attention goes to Barry.

Maybe if you weren’t a pain in the ass you would find someone” he jokes causing you to glare at him.

“If anything you’re the pain in my ass Barry”

“But you love me”

“Do I now ?” You raise your eyebrows

“Both of you are a pain in the ass” Joe grumbles and you and Barry laugh.

“Barr are you going to be home early or are you staying at the lab” Iris asks and you look up at your longtime best friend wondering why hasn’t he told you about him staying with Iris.

“Um” Barry nervously scratches the back of his neck.

“Thanks for the dinner Joe it was lovely as always but I’m afraid I have to head to bed; jet lag is a bitch” You yawn, picking up your dish and putting it in the sink.

“Goodnight y/n”They say in unison

The next day you agreed to meet up with Barry at the lab. Bringing all your all your notes and books to study while you were there.

“Hi guys” You greet team flash, sitting at a nearby table.

“Um y/n, aren’t you on break” Cisco asks while eyeballing your stack of textbooks.

“I have exams coming up Cisco andddd I may need your help with some things...please” You bat your lashes at him with a smile on your face.

“Alright alright but only because you’re cute”

“Yay thanks Cisco” you eagerly clapped your hands together as Cisco takes a seat next to you but before you could get anything started a gust of wind makes all your papers go flying as Barry was now in the middle of the cortex.

“You ass I needed those to study” You shout

“Well since you’re yelling at me guess who’s not helping pick them up...this guy” Barry points to himself with a smirk

“I don’t need your help idiot” you snort

“stop distracting me I need to focus” You whine, spinning in your chair.

“I’m such a great best friend; look what I got you” Barry sits an iced coffee on your desk and you look up at him suspiciously.

“Did you poison it” You joke

“No but I should’ve” He mumbles and you gasps.

“Now if I really die I hope you’re miserable for eternity” You quipped

“But...thank you anyway” you mumble, taking a sip of the iced beverage just as Barry started talking.

“Guys anything on Savitar?”

“Sadly no”

“Nope”

“No”

They say in unison and Barry groans and carried on with your studying.

It was 10pm when Barry walked in the lab again to see you sitting in the same spot except you had your head in your hand with your eyes closed softly snoring.

He shakes your shoulder a little and you groan but open your eyes anyway.

“Come on I’ll take you to Joe’s; you need rest you’ve been studying all day”

“Its fine barr I’m going to head out in a little bit” You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you stretch.

“Are you sure y/n, I can take you Joe’s”

“I’m fine barr, honestly; now go home Iris is probably worried sick” You push him a little and he chuckles before giving you a hug.

“You promise you’ll leave and get some rest?”

“I promise Barry geez you’re acting like you’re my daddy or something”

“You wish” he had a boyish grin on his face and your eyes got big.

“You bastard, get out” You shout while playfully shoving him out the cortex.

You turn around facing the desk and pout. Starting to get your things together you stop and stare at your engineering textbook with a sigh.

“Just one more hour” You mumble before taking a seat back in the spinning chair.

“Just another weird day in Central-“ Cisco’s heart drops when he jumps 5 ft in the air. He wasn’t expecting to see you on the floor surrounded by numerous papers. You had took your shoes off and put your hair in a ponytail, jacket on a nearby desk.

“Hey Cisco” Your voice was hoarse as you flipped another page in your textbook.

“Here have my coffee; you need it more than I do” Cisco hands you his coffee and you take it with a smile.

“Ms. L/n what are you still doing here” Harry walks in, coming to a stop when he sees you still at the lab.

“I was studying and I guess I lost track of time; can you guys help me with engineering it won’t stick in my mind” You say the last part through gritted teeth.

“Sure”

3 hours later you were in a Star Labs sweatshirt and spandex as you wrote down everything Cisco and Harry told you on note cards until Barry flashes in.

“Morning guys, why are you on the floor?”

“Uh heyyy Barr” you nervously greet and he squints his eyes at you.

“Y/n, did you stay here all night”

“......Maybe”

“Why”

“I’m sorry barr i just lost track of time I just-“

“Come on we’re leaving” he grabs your hand as Harry and Cisco watches.

“I need my things speedy”You shout

“I’ll bring them to you later”

“This is interesting...5 bucks says Barry likes y/n” Harry quietly bargains

“You seriously think I’m gonna bet on my friends love life.....deal” Cisco grins while rubbing his hands together.

“Geez y/n you seriously need to sleep cause you’re acting like such a bitch” Barry shouts

“Well maybe I get it from you ever thought about that” You shout back at him and he stops and grabs you before running off to Joe’s place.

When you were safely on the ground you grabbed your head, feeling dizzy.

“Jerk” You mumble

“Get in bed” he ignores your insult as you now lay in his old bed, snuggling under the covers.

“Barry” your tired voice calls out

“Yes ms.devious”

“I’m sorry”

“Why”

“I always call you horrible names”

“To be fair I do the same...I just like pissing you off”

“I’m trying to be serious here”

“Its fine y/n, you’re still my best friend” he chuckles

“Well you don’t act like it”

“What do you mean”

“You always tell me everything but now you won’t even tell me about the girl who has your heart; what if she turns out to be a bitch and I need to punch her in the face I wouldn’t be able too cause you didn’t tell me”

Barry laughs at your previous statement. He didn’t know why he never told you that he was seeing Iris it just never came up.

“Tell me Barry, what’s troubling you” your soft voice brings him out his thoughts and he sits on the bed as you looked in his eyes.

“Well you remember when I told you about Savitar”

“Yeah”

“Well turns out he’s future me but he wants to kill Iris”

“So do I” you thought but instead of actually saying that you say “have you figured out why”

“He’s convinced that killing Iris will stop the paradox from getting him”

“Look at it like this Barr, Iris West is not going anywhere. She loves you and you love her...that’s enough combined to stop Savitar” You rub the back of his hand as your eyes slowly closed and your breathing becomes even.

Barry knew you were asleep but your words kept replaying in his mind. He hated it when you were right but at the same time he liked it. It was a crazy how you say the craziest things and say something wise at the same time it was a talent of yours.

You were woken up to your phone ringing for the millionth time and you knock it off the bed but the damned device kept ringing.

Huffing you angrily picked it up and pressed accept, putting the call on speaker.

“Rise and shine sleepy head” Barry’s chirpy voice blast through the phone.

“Fuck you”

“Awwwe don’t be like that”

“Barry what is it that you want at this ungodly hour” You whine

“.....y/n its 4 in the afternoon”

“Exactly”

“Whatever just get dressed we’re going to Jitters” He ends the call just as you were about to reply with something sassy.

“Bartholomew allen always wanting to go somewhere” you grumble

“You know its not good to talk about friends behind their backs” Barry’s voice startles you as you were pulling up your jeans.

“Holy hell Barry stop doing that” You yell

“Sorry I couldn’t resist; are you almost ready”

“You literally just told me 2 seconds ago”

“What’s that supposed to mean”

“You’re so lucky you’re my best friend”

When Barry finally drags you to Jitters he orders the both of your drinks just as you found a table.

“So I forced you to come here because we need to talk” He says as he sat down across from you.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Well I just couldn’t stop thinking about what you said last night and I thought about if you were in Irises position and well...I’m afraid” his voice lowers as he averted his eyes away from yours.

“Look at me Barry; I know all of this is putting pressure on you but I am here alive and well to help you with it that’s why we need each other...to keep the other person from doing stupid things barr, you’re my best friend” As the words were leaving your mouth your hand found its way on top of Barry’s but the moment was ruined by his Meta-human alert app.

“We gotta go” Barry grabs your hand, rushing out the cafe.

“We just got here”

Reader’s POV

I stood against a desk as Barry and the others talked about breaking into A.R.G.U.S for some kind of stone. All of this made sense but didn’t at the same time.

“Barry this isn’t safe” I hear Iris say. Honestly for someone who wants to live she sure as hell is disagreeing with everything Barry suggests.

“Why not just get Snart’s help” I spoke up and everyone looks at me with a confused expression.

“How do you know about Snart” Iris frowns as she walks towards me and I decide that it was time to stop leaning against the table and stand up, showing her that I’m not afraid of whatever tricks she had up her sleeve.

“You see I told y/n everything we dealt with you know, she was giving me advice on things” Barry states and I give her a little smirk as she looks from Barry to me.

“Moral support” I tilt my head, making sure to make my tone higher a little to make me sound sweet.

“In order to do that Barry has to do time travel...which is what got us into this mess in the first place” Joe says

“I could help”

“No” Barry shuts down my suggestion as quick as it came.

“Why the hell not” I shout, seriously he was treating me like a child.

“You know why y/n so no end of discussion” He yells and I back away from him slowly. Barry always yelled at me but we would be playing this time however was the complete opposite and it hurt because well having someone you loved yell at you hurts like a bitch.

End of POV.

“Fine” You swallowed the lump in your throat before walking away and everyone looks at each other in confusion.

“Umm what just happened” Cisco asks as he put on a lost expression.

“What did you do with the real y/n” Joe looks at Barry who was looking at all his friends weirdly.“Why you ask that”

“She didn’t chew your head off this time...I was waiting for it” Harry folds his arms silently pouting at the fact you didn’t destroy him using your words.

“Me and y/n don’t always argue” This causes Joe and Iris to look at Barry with a look of disbelief on their face.

“What?”

You were in Cisco’s workshop flipping through your engineering textbook, not really reading anything.

“Y/n” A voice calls out to you and you turn around, seeing Joe.

“Hey Joe” you sigh before turning back around.

“You know he means well y/n”

“I know its just tiring all he tells me is no I wanna be able to help with meta-humans while I’m here”

“You’re his Bestfriend y/n he doesn’t want to expose you to this crazy world; you’re the only one who isn’t really involved in it”

“But Joe-“

“No buts y/n, I basically raised you I know exactly what you’re gonna say”

“Dang it”

“Guys Barry’s back” Cisco stops in the door way informing you about Barry’s return but when all of you went in the cortex you were greeted with Savitar’s famous smirk.

“Holy shit” You mumble but next thing you know Savitar grabs you and leaves Star Labs.

“Y/N” Joe yells as Cisco tells Barry you’ve been captured on the ear comms.

Infantino Street, the place Barry dreaded going ever since his unexpected visit to the future.

Savitar appears in front of him with Iris, throwing her on the ground just as Barry pulled the trigger on the speed force bazooka.

Everything seemed to be working until all the power bounces off Savitar’s robotic body and he holds up the philosophers stone.

“I spent an eternity stuck in a trap with that energy you think I didn’t know how to stop it” His villainous voice echoes

“You put me in an eternity of hell now welcome to yours” He runs off and comes back with you in his right hand, Iris in his left. Barry drops the bazooka at the same time his heart drops when he sees your face.

“Choose right now Flash, WHO is it gonna be that lives” You hear Iris sobbing next to you as your heart rate increases. You tried your best to not cry in front of Barry you were always the strong one when it comes to emotions and you will not break.

“Barry I fucking swear” You shout and he begins hyperventilating.

“I can’t do this, this isn’t fair”

“LIFE ISN’T FAIR Barry, you should’ve thought about that before you shunned me”

“Barry fucking Allen” You were getting anxious the more Savitar’s cold claws held you in the air.

“Times up flash” He lets go of Iris, left hand now forming a blade and Barry opens his mouth but nothing comes out as he felt his throat become dry.

“I’m sorry y/n, but its me or you” You couldn’t do it you couldn’t hold it in. Sobs rack over your body as you were preparing for the sharp pain you were about to feel.

Barry takes off running, pushing his self to run faster but it felt as if he was just slowing down.

The words replayed through Barry’s mind as he looked at the tear slowly falling down your face and all he could think about was running out of time as the blade pierced through your back and Savitar lets go of you.

He caught you perfectly in his arms but it was too late you were gone; he lost you.

He sobs as he dug his head in the crook of your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest as your arm limply falls on the ground.

Iris stares at the scene before her with watery eyes. Barry was different, she’s never seen him this way; so broken.

“You loved her didn’t you” She whispers and he sniffles, red eyes looking into her clear brown ones but he simply ignores her.

Barry was in so much pain it was as if he saw his mother die all over again. He couldn’t sleep instead he laid in bed, previous events haunting his mind as Iris laid asleep next to him.

He gets up and goes to the kitchen, getting a glass of water but he never takes a sip from it because he couldn’t instead he breaks down against the counter letting out all his tears.

“I’m so sorry y/n” He cries violently, shoulders shaking as snot runs out his nose.

There it was again your words haunting him even more as images of you throughout the years popped in his head making his sobs come to a stop.

“Run Barry... Run” You whisper and his eyes flashes with lightening as he takes off down the street the tears still sliding down his face as he felt a void around him.

Everything that happened since you arrived replaying in the void even your death. He sees Savitar holding you in the distance and right as he goes to stab you Barry grabs your frame, running away before falling on the ground with you on top of him.

“Barry” Your voice was quiet as more tears slide down your face and he pushes your head against his chest.

“I got you y/n, I got you” he soothes

“Who the hell are you and why are you here” Barry frowns as he looked at himself that was now holding your hand.

“I’m you from the future alright I just came back here for y/n”

“Why”

“Y/n...didn’t make it originally and a life without her is miserable its hell itself...she is what I need so I came back to save her; I just need to know y/n...will you come back with me?” You look at future Barry with watery eyes, your face was flushed and you had tear streaks that you knew were very visible.

“I will” Your throat was dry as the words left your mouth but you grabbed Barry’s hand nonetheless.

Hoisting you on his back Barry nods at his team flash members before running back the same way he came, wind blowing your hair out your face and instantly drying your eyes.

Finally stopping Barry puts you down and you look around, noticing you were on a sidewalk outside of Joe’s house.

“Barry” you could see the pain in his eyes, he really was afraid of losing you and seeing him so hurt made your heart ache.

“Yeah?” He looks at you just as you press your lips against his and he melts under your touch, kissing back.

“I’m not losing you again y/n”

Taglist:

@jennyaraiza23 @onceuponateenpanwolfian @renner-hawkeyeloves

I think this might be the best short story I ever made.

- WinterFlash-2019

Word Count: 4,400

#Barry allen x reader #barry allen imagine #Barry Allen #cw #The Flash #Iris west #joe west #Cisco ramon #caitlin snow #harrison wells #grant gustin x reader

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bbparker · 7 years ago

Text

Hold onto Me pt.2 (Steve R. x Reader x Tony S.)

Summary: (Y/n) is the newest member to the team with a history with Tony. She’s bubbly and can see the humour in anything- She’s exactly what Steve needs in his darkest hours, except Tony is possessive over her and both build up welts of jealousy over her. Little did they know this can have disastrous effects on those around them.

A/N: So this happened and I LOVE IT! Get ready for your heart to die…

Warnings: Angst, gruesome content, death and blood.

Words:

Song to play on (****) for this chapter: Fix You by Coldplay- here (Play repeatedly until end)

[Part 1]

// Masterlist //

Walking onto the plane, (y/n) could feel the tension. Rolling her eyes, she made her way past Tony and Steve, both who had seats opened next to them. They watched as she ignored their presence and made her way to the front seat. Though she could have used her powers to be in the front seat in five seconds, (y/n) was trying to make a point that an ego or testosterone running wild, wouldn’t be tolerated.

“Hey, how’re you holding up? You end up getting that job with the professor?”

Tony and Steve glanced at each other at Nat’s words but ended up looking over to their common interest. “Yeah, I did. He said they’re ready for me whenever I’m ready,” (y/n) shouts over the noise of the plane, but also to make it clear to the boys she was really leaving. Wanda, Vision and Clint joining them on the plane before it took off. “I thought you retired old man?” “I never could stay away from a good fight, you know me (y/n)” She laughed, happy that one of her friends were back and fighting with the team. When (y/n) had stabilised the plane in the air, she handed the controls over to Natasha and walked to the back of the plane, where small water bottles lay.

Turning around to remind Clint about something, (y/n) came face to face with Tony’s chest, “Can I help you Mr. Stark?” Tony glared a little at the use of his last name, they’d known each other for years and suddenly a tiny thing happens and she’s ready to start from the beginning. “Don’t Mr. Stark me, (y/n). Why are you so upset of the prospect that we have feeling-”” That’s very childish-”” (Y/N) I don’t know about Steve, but I’m sure as hell in love with you and I don’t find that childish. That years later, my fucking feelings have come back and hit me full force.” (Y/N) looked up into Tony’s brown eyes, somewhat in awe of his confession. “Don’t you know how big that is for a guy like me?” “Tony, I-I do, and I’m appreciative of your feelings. However, this doesn’t change the fact that you and Steve are in another fight because of it; that you have changed the team dynamics for it.”

“I’d change anything for you, (y/n). Please, tell me I’m not doing something stupid by falling in love with you.” (Y/n) remained silent, “you’re always doing something stupid tony…but being in love with someone can never be a mistake. Unless it’s with like a kid or a HYDRA agent or something., because that’s just weird.” There was a momentary pause before both Tony and (y/n) were laughing like old friends once again; the tension between the two leaving. “Which reminds me, where’s banner and the kid?” “Bruce, no idea. He went MIA two weeks ago and as if I’d let Peter come on a mission like this…” “Wait, Bruce is missing and you didn’t say anything?!” (Y/n) continued to chide Tony on not telling her this while explained that Bruce needs space.

From the other side of the plane, Steve looked up from his PADD with saddened eyes. He’d heard part of Tony’s speech to know that he’d beat him to the punch, but worst of all he’d probably just lost the only girl he’d ever fallen in love with after Peggy. The two separated, Steve glancing between them and decided to take his chance. It was now or never. Placing his PADD down, he walks slowly, as if approaching a predator, and tapping her on her shoulder. Turning once again, (y/n) mutters, “why is it so hard to get a water bottle uninterrupted here?”

“Uh here” Steve mutters awkwardly, reaching behind her and passing her a water bottle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you…” “No, that’s okay.” (Y/n) smiled up lightly at Steve but he didn’t get the sense of relief that Tony did, in fact it seemed to build. “Is there something you needed Captain?” Scratching the back of his head, Steve stumbles over multiple words, not quite making sense. He’d never actually, out loud, said I love you to a girl and never after someone else had just done so. “N-nothing, I just wanted to grab a water bottle.”

“Oh, okay.” (Y/n) had slight disappointment that only confused her and moved to the pilot’s seat once more. Steve watched her as she did so, sighing in defeat. Looking over to Tony, he smirked, knowing all along that he was never shy with feelings but Steve was the complete opposite. He’d had enough rejection within his life to doubt himself, even eighty years later. Looking down from Tony’s devil-like eyes, Steve grabbed a water bottle and then glanced to his left, towards the cockpit. “Damn it…” He muttered.

(more underneath)

——

“ETA in ten minutes, gear up boys and girls.” Again, allowing Nat to take control, (y/n) made her way to where her gear was lain out next to Wanda’s. “You ready for this snowflake?” She asked the Scarlet Witch. “Hmm, somewhat. I know this isn’t going to be an easy mission, attacking one of Crossbones’ hideouts, but I know our team can pretty much do anything.” (Y/n), glancing over her shoulder, only hummed in some sort of agreement as she looked between a geared-up Iron Man and Captain America. Lingering slightly on the disheartened face Steve seemed to have as he looked at his shield, lost in his own mind. “I’m not so sure about team anymore…”

Grabbing some of her throwing knives and spear, (y/n) sheathed them on her waist and back. Watching as the remainder of the team adjusting parts of their uniform and weapons. Glancing once more behind her, Wanda seemed to follow her eyesight, “Ah, I see you’ve finally discovered the two-idiot’s infatuation with yourself, no?”

“Yeah, I caught them fighting.” (Y/N) was still looking at them, watching Steve as he ran his hands over the colours and the scratches permanently embedded in his shield from T’Challa.

“And what do you think?”

“What do I think about what?” Wanda adjusted her corset-like costume before turning to (y/n), “about them being in love with you? Have you chosen one?”

“Chosen one? I don’t think this is the time or place for relationships, Wanda. Plus, I’ve already been transferred over the Xavier after this mission, you know that. A relationship would definitely not work then.”

“You’re so serious about this (y/n) … plus you didn’t say you didn’t like one of them.” Wanda smirked and crossed her arms, now leaning her hip on the wall. “Well…” (y/n) said turning to look over at both men who seemed to openly ignore each other, sighing. “They’re both amazing guys, don’t get me wrong but- ““-but you don’t want to hurt them…and you already have a certain someone on your mind!” Wanda squealed. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, “oh no I certainly don’t!” Turning back to her station he pressed the button to close it and turned towards the back of the jet. Stretching her legs slightly, (y/n) attempted to stretch the suit out at the same time. It was skin tight but not as flexible when it goes unused.

“Liar!” Both girls laughed, catching the attention of three superheroes.

——

It seemed they undermined the enemy and they had obtained some mutants on their side. Even with (y/n)’s super speed, the other mutant’s powers seemed to weigh in against her. A pink haired girl threw out a force field, which (y/n) ran full force into. “Gah!” She fell to the ground, her whole-body throbbing from the prolonged running. Blood dribbled into her mouth and down her chin from her nose, (y/n) quickly hiding it away with her sleeve. The blood just smearing across her face and making her appear even more threatening. “(Y/n), you okay?” Clint asked as he placed a hand on her back as she sat up, blinking rapidly to get rid of the black spots. “I’m good, pfft…” Standing and slightly wobbling, Steve’s voice finally calls it. “Fall back, there’s no way we can break through the wall of mutants!”

“C’mon, let’s get back (Y/N).” “I’m not going to argue!” She yelled as they jogged back, both too exhausted to run; the enemy kept firing from the large guns atop the mountainside.

A huge explosion rocks the Earth, stemming from a couple meters away from (y/n) and Barton. “Shit, they’re ammo’s just getting bigger!” Tony yells over the comms. As the communication continues, Nat notices a lack of absence from her two friends. “Barton, (y/n)? Has anyone got eyes on Barton or (y/n)?”

The comms went quiet, two bodies lying in the dirt, still. “(Y/n)? Barton?”

Still… nothing.

….

Muffled sounds enter her ears, more like the shout of her name. “(Y/N)! Where are you! Please tell me you’re okay!” It was Steve. “I-I… I’m fine. The missile went off near Barton and I but we’re both fine. An audible sigh of relief went throughout the team. “I’M DEAF!” A man shouts near (y/n). Looking over she found Barton looking around until he spots her. “You’re deaf you half-wit!” Being able to read lips, Barton laughs, “oh yeah…” Spotting the hearing aid developed by Tony on the ground, (y/n) picked it up and shoved in in his ear. For a moment, both just sat there staring at nothing, as if the people around them weren’t in a battle.

(Y/n) came back to the world and turned to Barton once again, finally noticing his injuries. “Clint! How do you not feel that!” “Wha- oh.” A very large piece of shrapnel had landed within his thigh. Standing, (y/n) put Barton’s arm over her shoulder but an unnatural gust of wind blew past both, blowing them on their backs again. A face appeared above (y/n) with long hair like fire and green piercing eyes, “So slow,” and then they were gone. Another speedster, “shit” (Y/N) said.

Putting her finger to her comm, (y/n) began ordering some of her team. “Someone get to my location, southwest of the forest, and get Barton! We have another speedster in the field! I repeat we have another speedster!” The panic was clear in her voice, she’d only met another speedster once and thy were luckily a friendly. This one, however, was playing for the other side and judging by her exhaustion, she was almost no match. Zipping to Barton she ripped some material from his shirt and tied it around the top of his leg quickly to try and prevent further blood loss. “Be safe…” (y/n) said to Barton, kissing on the forehead and zooming off the stop the speedster from touching her team, before he could say anything. Taking out her comm, to stop herself from being distracted, (y/n) closed her eyes, the firing of guns ceased to exist to her, only footsteps.

The thumping of fast feet was heard to her left, instantly (y/n) dashed that way, her sliver lightning mixing with green. She could see the other girl infant of her, aiming for Tony, who was amongst the other team members standing in a circle defending themselves. Pushing herself to run faster in her exhaustion, she tackles the red-haired girl. Both girls seemingly appearing from nowhere, scared the daylights out of everyone. However, they were unable to distinguish who was winning the fight due to their fast movements. Both stood across in the open areas of the forest, the Avengers, besides Nat and Barton, stood watching as their sides ran full force at each other. The red haired super kicked (y/n) directly in the stomach at full force, making (y/n) fly back into a tree. “(Y/n)!” Tony yelled at your weakened state, barely unable to get up from the floor.(****) Tony and Steve could only watch as their love was beaten before their eyes, attempting to interfere only to be met with (y/n)’s pleas to stay back.

Standing from another beating, she raised her fists. The blood smeared her face, some of her suit torn on the torso and her whole left sleeve torn off. Turning to Wanda, Steve began yelling for her to something, “I can’t Steve! I can’t get a read on her she’s moving way to fast!” The whole team panicked as the girl they’d come to all love in the six months she was a part of their team, get ripped to shreds; outmatched by someone younger, stronger and not exhausted. “We can’t do nothing!” Steve yelled, trying to get his team to act; even Vision had lost hope, not as quick as the speedster either.

They all watched as (y/n) was held up by her throat, “you’ll die here, for nothing. For nobody!” She screamed, hand vibrating and ready to run it through (y/n). Tony couldn’t do anything, he’d lost hope, but Steve couldn’t and wouldn’t; he would be damned if he didn’t at least try. “NO! PLEASE!” Steve sprinted towards the scene, he’d do anything for her, even the impossible. (Y/n) reached out her hand as if to stop of hold him, she wasn’t sure and it all seemed to go in slow motion as the other speedster caught what she was so desperately reaching for. Her safety. Her everything. The Captain, of course. Smirking, the green-eyed brought her face to (y/n)’s, “But first I’ll make you watch your beloved die, and there’s nothing you can do, you’re weak… pathetic!” Laughing, she threw the girl to the ground and picked up a rather large branch; (y/n)’s world stopped. “No…” She said weakly from the ground, watching as the girl got ready to charge at Steve, a radon branch propped in her hands to stab him with. “STEVE, RUN PLEASE!” He didn’t listen, his only goal was to get to her- the love of his life. He would not let another love slip through his fingers, not again.

“NO!” She screamed as the speedster with green lighting was already jumping, ready to strike Steve’s heart and he wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to block with his shield. (Y/n) can see his baby blues from here, he’s so frightened but he’s fighting it, for her; eyes full of too much love for her to leave her. Tears streamed her face, “you foolish man!” and suddenly…she was there. In front of Steve. Both speedsters were wide eyed as they eyed each other. (Y/n) coughed, blood spluttering her chin and uniform. As once last act of strength, (y/n) sped up her hand and phased through the other girl’s body, grabbing onto her heart. “So slow.” (Y/n) muttered as she crushed in in the palm of her hand, and dropping her to the ground. Something warm and numb was covering her torso.

There was a pause, “(y-y/n)?” Turning as slow as she could to face Steve, “Steve?” And then she was on the ground. Sounds were muffled once again, and she could see his face above hers. “(Y/n)! Nonono, please, PLEASE! God, please (y/n)!” His pleas were the only things she could hear, his face the only thing he could see. Though she was sure there were others, her focus was on him. “Steve…” Steve’s helmet was now removed and his tears streamed freely as he looked upon the love of his life. It kind of reminded (y/n) of that song by cold play song that Barton used to play throughout the tower all the time. Something about tears and losing something you couldn’t replace… when you’re too in love to let it go.

“I-I’m sorry Stevie, looks like I wasn’t ready to let you go just yet…” Gasping for breath, (y/n) smiled though knew she had limited time. Lifting a hand to Steve’s face as his tried to stop the bleeding around the thick branch inserted through the centre of her body. “no, you’re fine. You’re gonna be just fine baby, please just stay a little longer. Keep your eyes one me.” “You know you have the most expressive and beautiful pair of eyes Mr. Rogers? S-s-spotted it t-the f-first time I met you, d’you r-remember?” It was getting harder to talk and Steve’s cry turned into full on sobs as he ordered the team to get the jet here and now. “I-I remember, Baby. Zoomed right into my face the first time we met.” A sob and a laugh left his mouth remembering how stunned he was by your mere presence and now looking down he still thinks your beautiful, just broken. “He, yeah those were the days. I-I didn’t call Xavier” She muttered, her speech slowing and becoming inaudible.

“GET THE JET HERE NOW!” Steve screamed, he knew you were leaving, “Please stay with me (y/n)! Don’t leave me!” “I didn’t call because I knew I’d never be able to leave… not you…. not ever…” Steve put his forehead to hers, blood smearing onto his face and in his hair but he didn’t care.

“Please (y/n) don’t leave me now! You said you weren’t going to be able to leave then, so please don’t leave now!” The jet landed behind Steve but the noise couldn’t be heard by either people. “S-Steve, open your eyes…” He did and came face to face with her eyes, she admired the sea blues that looked back at her. The colour sent her into worlds unknown and finally he leaned in and kissed her. Not a goodbye but a promise.

Pulling away, Steve felt (y/n)’s hand on his cheek, smiling lightly at him. The next minute her body gave a great big heave before her limbs became limp, the hand leaving his face and smile dropping. “NO! (Y/n) please, don’t… I love you, I love you! I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’ll say it now, just please come back!”

The Avengers stood back and watched the man they called Captain and the speedster they’d come to love, be destroyed and there was nothing they could do but watch as he screamed for his beloved.

Part 3?

TAGS

@mannatgalhotra @eliza-hamilton-helpless @purelittleblueberry @yoinkpeter @iamwarrenspeace @keepcalm-and-beyou

#Steverogersimagine #imagine #tonystarkimagine #angstimagines #marvelimagine #steverogers x reader #tony stark x reader #marvel x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #clint barton imagine #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff imagine

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cecilspeaks · 7 years ago

Text

113 - Niecelet

Gooooooood eevening, fine citizens. I’m your late night host this week, here to keep you company after sundownn.

Welcome to Night Vale!

As you regular listeners already know, I took over the night shifts this week, because I’ve been spending my days with a very special house guest. Well, more like one and a half house guests. My favorite cousin Sabina is visiting, and she’s 7 months pregnant with what will be my second ever niece. Well, my first ever niece once removed. First ever niece once removed? That takes too long, let’s do – “niecelet”.

My sister’s daughter Janice is a teenager. It’s been so long since I’ve had a new baby in my family so, if you hear a certain knowing, avuncular quality in my voice, it’s because you are listening to an expecting uncle. I’m already getting some of those leather patches sewed onto the elbows of my windbreaker.

All week, Sabina and I have been reading baby books, and I am a veritable expert at this point. A baby at 7 months is as big as an eggplant. She can already get the hiccups and déjà-baby-vu, and has a fully developed sense of comedic timing. I’m holding an eggplant with me here in this studio to practice supporting her neck. Also to make sure I have something to eat when I get home. Sabina’s cleaned out the fridge pretty thoroughly.

Back at my place, Sabina’s been keeping the radio on 24/7, so the niecelet will know the owner of this dulcet baritone already loves her very much. Hello, almost-niece!

Doing all this reading together, it seems crazy to learn just how vulnerable we are, when we first enter the world. Did you know that a newborn doesn’t even have kneecaps yet? That it has a hole in the top of its skull, which must be taped shut so the newborn does not escape through it during the night? It’s amazing any of us survive to the shaming ceremonies at all!

Speaking of rites of passage, the annual Night Vale Science Fair is scheduled for this Monday night. Every fourth grader is expected to report to the Rec Center for a fun-filled evening of free programs and live demonstrations. Organizers say the kiddos will have a chance to make a 1:1 scale volcano, that spews real ash and molten igneous rock. They’ll learn how a pile of pennies can be transformed into a battery, simply by taking those pennies to Walgreens and exchanging them for a pack of Duracell double A’s. They’ll learn about about centripetal force by pouring a bucket full of water, and then filling out a worksheet on centripetal force. They’ll plant a bean sprout in a Styrofoam cup that won’t disintegrate until their grandchildren have set off on exploratory missions to find another planet that can support bean sprouts.

Hmm, what else might be on the Community Calendar this week, you ask? Well, let me work at my own pace over here, OK pal? Like all jobs worth doing, this one takes focus and patience. You can’t just rush through it. As my optometrist says, “measure twice, cut once, then do the left eye.” So I guess that’s really measure four times total and cut two times, but I had an astigmatism so I ended up just sticking with contacts anyway.

Sooo.. [papers rustling] let’s see here. [clears throat] M-h-h-h-hmm, this week’s events. On Tuesday night, head over to the Band Shell to hear a set from Ouroboros, the rock band that only plays covers of their own songs. Wednesday, Ablution in Fresca to celebrate the start of the Andorran New Year. Thursday is Thirsty Thursday. Consume no liquids. You’re gonna get real thirsty! Friday has been indefinitely delayed by weather at O’Hare, and is now pleading with a United representative for a hotel voucher to avoid sleeping in a plastic chair in Concourse C.

Early morning on Saturday, we are in for a rare astronomical treat. The Earth will fully eclipse the Sun, blotting out its light completely, so that only a ring of wispy blue remains visible against the blackness. Now this eclipse will not be observable on Earth, of course, and to our knowledge there is no planet on which this phenomenon could be observed. There’s just nothing on that particular vector in space, but at 4:13 AM on Saturday morning, the total eclipse will occur, and that blue corona will shine softly in the dark, like a delicate smoke ring. And that dim blue halo will represent the entirety of us. Our dramas, dreams, and disappointments. The first ride without the training wheels. Our 8th grade dances. Our double Windsors and our veils, our sleepless nights in waiting rooms. Our rush hour commuters, our dozing through recitals til the one we love goes on. Our crying in the car as the one we love leaves home. Just that thin filament of blue, on which we wage our peace.

The on Sunday, tacos and gun safety with Three-eyed Bill at First Methodist.

Stay tuned, savvy listeners, for in a moment I’ll be sharing Night Vale’s third quarter economic development report. To my knowledge, we’ve never had an economic development report before for any quarter, but the press release looked official, and we all know that new municipal arms of government form all the time. Arms that then pull back to be reabsorbed by the government shoulder from which they sprouted.

But before crunching those numbers, a quick message from today’s sponsor. Equinox Gym. At Equinox, we focus on the whole body. Particularly, the soft and vulnerable parts of that body. Stop by our windowless complex today to meet with a dietician about this month’s promotion, the Zima cleanse. Or for even faster results, nothing torches calories like our calorie torch. Also, new members this week to Equinox receive 60 days of free access to our popular Judgment Spa. This has been a word from our sponsor.

[booming voice] Now to business news. Whoa! Did that sound unusually powerful to you? Ooh, I sorta took myself by surprise there, like I grew a suit or something! [chuckles] [clears throat] The Night Vale Economic Development Board, or NV-ec-dev-B for short and cumbersome, sent a press release at the closing bell of the Night Vale stock exchange. The bulletin said that futures are down, way down. Although the recent past is trading briskly. In response to declining levels of interests, NV-ec-dev-B plans to incentivize consumer spending. At the start of tomorrow’s business day, they’ll launch an abject prompt campaign of xenophobia, branded as nationalism, branded as civic bride, branded as a 2008 F150 Ford truck with satellite radio, air conditioned seats, and a heavy-duty hitch to haul away whatever it is you’re trying to hide.

So make plans this weekend to head out towards the used car lot with your hands in the air and your checkbook in your mouth, to meet with a sales person about financing options. You might be surprised by how few years of indentured servitude can you get you behind the wheel of a Ford truck.

You know what cars make me think of? Well, Carlos. I guess, but everything makes me think of Carlos. And his name is an anagram of “Lo cars”. He’s out of town at Erlenmeyer Flask Con this week, and I miss something fierce! But what I was going to say is that the thought of buying a car reminds me of my niecelet! It’s extraordinary to think that she’ll be a teenager some day, getting her driver’s permit, then her license, then her crossbow - going through all of these phases we all pass through. It’s like there’s a future attached to her already. Inside Sabina, there’s a baby, and seated inside the baby there’s the toddler. And within her are the blueprints for the girl. And soon, she’ll be out here learning to play the sitar and considering vegetarianism, then voting and buying lottery tickets. Well, those are the same thing really. And I’ll get to bear witness to this blooming life. Some day, she might even decide to have a niece of her own.

[tearily] Oh, OK. Um, something is in young Cecil’s eye over here. Ooh! Hang tight, team, I’m just gonna run out and grab a bunch of tissues from the supply closet to remove this bothersome… [key turns in lock, falls down] OK, listeners, I must admit I’m in a state of concerned agitation here. When I tried to open the door of the studio, the handle – came off in my hand and and and and when I went to reinsert it, I found that the hole was (tamped) full of soft hot tar, which cannot be up to code. So now I find myself in a small, soundproof, airtight room with a doorless handle in my left hand and a handle-less door before me. I’m uh… Huh… I’m- I’m I’m uncertain of just how to proceed, uh, I can’t imagine there’s more than a few hours’ worth of oxygen in here, even if the studio’s potted fern works double duty on converting the carbon dioxide.

Oh man and of course, I left my phone in my jeans in the other room, you know, after I changed into my professional radio hosting unitard. I, OK, I need some time to assess the situation.

I’ll leave you to the weather.

[Weather: "If We Live" by Disparition]

OK. OK, OK, alright calm down, calm down Cecil, calm down, and you can beat this. be like the patient viper who does not strike until his prey is upon him. [sharp exhale] Be like the praying mantis whose head is a guitar pick. Keep your heart rate low and your focus steady, and good God, sit down, man. Save your strength. Breathe deep enough to get the air inside your brain and think. What would an uncle do?

Hmmm. Hummmmmmmm. [getting faster and higher] Hmmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmmmmm… Oh! OK, I’ve got it. Easy, I just need one of you to come and open the door. [chuckles] OK, here I am behaving like I’m alone, but of course I’m not alone, ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, I’ve got all of Night Vale listening. Ooh, that is a relief! Come to think of it, I imagine hundreds of you may be on your way already, and I can’t have the whole town rushing over all at once. That would cause traffic jams, hysteria, straightline winds gusting up to 60 knots. [laughs] If you’re on your way, just shoot quick flare into the sky, so that everybody knows you’re the one on the way. M-more importantly so that I know you’re on the way.

You guys, it’s like 8 PM, you’re not all in your PJ’s yet. Just need one person to make the trip. It’s like an 8-minute drive from your apartment, come on! Is… Is no one listening? I mean, the memo from management at the last all-staff meeting did mention low late night ratings but – this is not low, this is talking into a tin can on string whose other end is tied to a fire hydrant at the bottom of the sea, this is utter futility, this is falling in the woods and no one’s there to hear you. This is not seeing the Cecil for the trees, this is – Kafka meets Becket and tells him to talk to the hand. This is – stop, full stop. Cecil. [deep breath] This indignation does me no good at all. Just burns through my oxygen supply, which is running low already. This rate, I’ll never survive until the morning commuters tune in. Just think, Cecil. Think like an uncle.

Ooh. That’s it! There is at least one person listening. Babies never sleep thru the night, right? So you, niecelet, you should be able to hear me. Tho I imagine the sound of my voice may be muffled by the blankets on the guest bed and Sabina’s abdominal muscles. Alright, niecelet, I need you. We’ve got to find a way to wake up Sabina. I need you to kick, brace your little elbows on the soft wall behind you and really kick! Aim for a spot under the ribs, that roof of bone above you. And again. [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! Now give it everything you’ve got this time! Sabina, wake up! This is an emergency! Wake u-

Oh. The station phone is ringing. God I forgot we even had this. uh caller, you’re on the air.

Sabina: Hey, Cecil. The baby was keeping me up and I turned on the station and-

Cecil: Sabina! Oh, thank God you’re awake! No, no it’s not a shtick, listen. I am trapped in the studio and I just need someone to open the door from the outs-

Sabina: Oh OK, I’ll be right there. But I’m starving, I may stop by Subway for a mashed potato and Nutella sandwich.

Cecil: No, please come now! We’ve got snacks in the breakroom pantry.. I think. I’ll set you up with some (gorb and gevilta) fish.

Sabina: Alright. Hey, did you know that there’s a faceless old woman living in your home? She keeps trying to put lotion on my belly, while I’m sleeping.

Cecil: Yeah, she does that. Listen, my spare office keys are by the lucky cat. See you soon, and thank you Sabina!

Sabina: Hey, enough with the lotion, lady!

Ooooohh. And thank you, niecelet! At negative two months old, you’ve already saved a life! And somehow I get the feeling mine might be just the first of many. If you need bailing out of a tight spot some day, you know who to call. I’m the baritone you can count on any time, kid, day or night shift.

Ahhh, man! I can’t wait for that door to open so I can get a lungful of fresh air. Oh, it’s funny how small a room can feel when you’re not allowed to leave. Oh, sorry I [chuckles] forgot who I was talking to for a second. Well, as soon as you’re out here breathing air yourself, I’m getting you a pair of cleats and a pair of baby shinguards and a baby cape, too. I can’t wait to meet you, little hero of a niecelet! But first, I’m making your mother some midnight eggplant parmesan.

Stay tuned next for the sounds of a door opening, a rush of oxygen-rich air, and a wheezing celebration of an overworked respiratory system. Aany second now. Aaaany second. Aaaaaanyyyy secondd.

[long silence]

Today’s proverb: Follow your heart. You need it. Where did it ever learn to walk?

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wntv transcripts #episode 113 #niecelet

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petriichors · 8 years ago

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title: two’s company, three’s a crowd (but we’ll make it work) ship: suho centric, sulay, suchen & beginnings of sulaychen word count: 4.5k words warning: mentions of near death experiences (drowning), unresolved polyamory dynamics. notes: written for round 4 of 91daes, cross posted on lj & ao3. 91daes is such a precious fic fest to me and i was really happy to see that there was a round 4~ the prompt i picked up was: domestic au + ot3, baking, magic and though i tried, it came off as more soulmate au + magic and ot3. i had a pretty good start with writing this but lost the feeling halfway through which meant that i scraped a few ideas here and there and reworked through most of it once more.

it seems that I can’t write good endings and I didn’t want to rush any resolution of issues since it wouldn’t seem very realistic. Also, I’m not familiar at all with electric shocks and so what I’ve written is probably really far off from actual facts to fit better with the narrative!

this fic is un-beta’d so all mistakes are mine, also I’m sorry for the weird switching in tense. shoutout to H for cheering me on even in the tougher times.

summary: Junmyeon figures that if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

“I went into the ocean without knowing how to swim, and went to you, not knowing how to love.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he falls in love.

It was the ocean that he had fallen in love with; it was the ocean that drew him in. In his defence, the first time he had gone into the waters unattended was when he was five. Old enough to know better than to break away from his parents and dash towards the ocean, young enough to not care. At age five, Junmyeon thought that he could do anything he wanted and walk away unscathed.

It’s comfortable in the beginning, with a hint of excitement as the waters reach ankle height. Waves laps gently at his exposed calves, as if asking him to ‘come closer, take another step in’. And he does, he takes that next step and the step after that, moving deeper and deeper into the deep mesmerizing blue of the ocean. The edges of his shorts get soaked with salt water but he pays it no mind, not when he was nowhere deep enough. All he knew was that the ocean was calling out to him and that he had to get closer, much closer.

Later when he wakes up to the sun shining down on him and his mother sobbing over him (“oh, thank god, thank god!”), he would realize that he remembers nothing save for wading deeper and deeper into the deep dark blue. Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a too tight embrace by his mother, taking in sweet breaths of air into his burning lungs. His father tells him much later that he had called out to him only to be ignored and left panicking when the waves swallow up his only son. The one thing he had utmost control over in the world was the one thing that almost stole his only child away from him.

There’s a story that has been told to him over and over in his mother’s soft voice as she coaxes him into falling asleep. A tale about finding love and unlocking magic, the love story of how his parents met and how his family came to be. Junmyeon never really grasped the whole concept of it all, not at the tender age of six where everything seemed to fictional.

He understood the magic which origins nobody could explain. He’s witnessed magic firsthand during bath time with his father: water streaming upwards, forming figures and shapes and tickling his sides before his father released his hold on it. He’s experienced it first hand in how his mother cushioned his falls with gusts of wind, he’s felt the weight of it when she had tried to force air back into his lungs after he had drowned. It’s easy to understand the magic since it was something he could see, something he could touch.

Love though… it wasn’t something he could comprehend as easily. Junmyeon’s both seen and experienced love, of course. He’s seen the love his parents had for each other, he’s experienced the love they had for him and him them. Even in the books he’s read, in the cartoons he’s watched, he’s seen love all around him and yet… it was still something complex, something too abstract for him to fully understand. And if he ever got frustrated about his lack of understanding or voiced out his confusion about why he couldn’t do what his parents could with the air and water around them (“I don’t understand! I found love, eomma, I love you and appa, so why don’t I have magic too?”), his mother would assure him that he would find that one love that was meant for him eventually. “And until that day comes, you’ll find other forms of love along the way.”

As he lies in bed at age six, Junmyeon wonders if love might be similar to the ocean. It was something beautiful and mysterious (and dangerous, always dangerous for those are careless. Ever ready to pull him down by the ankles and fill his lungs). And if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

The reality was this: everyone’s borne with dormant magic within him or her and the key to unlocking it was someone; a special person destined for them, a match made in heaven, a soulmate. It’s a game of luck, really, whether or not they ever get to meet. The luckier ones had soulmates who were people familiar to them, a friend, a neighbor, a schoolmate. Those with average luck are the ones who had strangers as theirs, a random face in a crowd that they get drawn to. The statistically minority, that 2% of the population with no luck at all, never had the chance to ever meet their soulmates (some so far apart from each other that finding each other was close to none. some gone before the chance ever came about).

At age sixteen, Junmyeon learns the history and technicalities behind the fairytale he grew up with (less a bedtime story now that reality bleed through) from a compulsory seminar held by his school. He learns about the social events that the government had sponsored in order to maximize the opportunity of soulmates meeting, about the registration process that comes after the meeting of his special someone. At age sixteen, Junmyeon wonders if he would have the opportunity in meeting his soulmate or if he would end up being a part of that 2% that never does. The lingering fear of never finding that one love, stemming from the tender age of six, loosens its tight hold on his airway as he clutches onto the seminar brochures and signs up for multiple mixers.

After all, some things were best left to faith and some things were better taken into one’s own hands.

When fate decides to intervene with his carefully laid out plans, he realizes how he was simply a pawn in this game of predestined matches, a piece of a puzzle being passed around until he found his place next to someone. Junmyeon realizes how powerless he really is when fate had decidedly brought him along as a witness of his date (a junior at school who had the prettiest lips, a strong love for food and a battalion of dad jokes) meeting his soulmate.

Fate: 1, Junmyeon: 0.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetie.”

“So why is everyone meeting their soulmate except me?”

“You’ll find yours soon, I promise.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he meets his soulmate at age twenty. Dying might seem like a stretch of facts but in his defence, tripping down a couple of stairs after colliding with someone might really have caused death. In his case though, he suspected that the only thing the fall had caused was a possible concussion. Junmyeon groans as he opens his eyes to a face hovering near his own, the stairwell lights shining down around him like a halo.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there I–”

Junmyeon squints, “Are you an angel?”

“I–” The angel laughs. “No, no, I’m not.”

“You look like one,” he lets the non-angel help him up to his feet, wincing a little as he stands.

“An angel wouldn’t have caused an accident like this,” With an apologetic smile, the other male takes a step back from Junmyeon. “Does it hurt anywhere…?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I just hope I can say the same about my coffee though…” He trails off, eyes drawn to his plastic coffee cup lying on its side with its cover flung wide open. Where there was supposed to be a mess of dark liquid was nothing, instead the coffee stayed within its container, perpendicular to the floor.

“Hello, fine,” the other male chuckles. “I’m Yixing.”

“I–” Junmyeon looks back at him (the non-angel, his soulmate, Yixing). “I think you’re my soulmate.”

The coffee spills out of its cup.

They get registered on a Tueday. It’s the only day that Junmyeon ends his classes early enough to make it for an afternoon slot and it’s the one day Yixing could have off from his internship at the hospital.

After a long talk (for which a business law class might had been skipped for) and three dates (were they dates or casual meetings? What counted as dates? “Hmm, I think if we had a nice time together and one person pays for the entirety of the day, it’s a date.” “So are we dating?” “Maybe! In that case, would you like to go on another date with me, Junmyeon?”), here they were: casually holding hands in front of the local district hall. The registration process itself doesn’t take long (simple filling up of forms and a thumbprint seal does it) and whatever papers they come out with holds lesser significance as compared to a marriage certificate but Junmyeon still gets nervous.

“It’ll be okay,” Yixing reassures him, fingers laced between his. “I researched about it, it’s really easy!”

Junmyeon nods, offering Yixing a smile. He can’t bring himself to tell the other boy that it wasn’t the process that he was nervous about because it was the partial cause of his nervousness. He doesn’t tell him that the bulk of his worry was because of Yixing. In all honesty, he doesn’t have to because Yixing already knows. Yixing’s done the research.

Yixing doesn’t have elemental magic. In fact, Yixing doesn’t have any magic at all.

And when the forms ask for proof of their bond, Yixing has nothing to show that Junmyeon is his soulmate.

There are cases of people who were borne without magic, people like Yixing, but they are rare enough to be considered a myth. In a world were magic is an indication of a shared bond, the lack of it in someone marks a problem. It leads to the idea that someone didn’t belong in the relationship, that someone was still searching for their other half. That someone was cheating on a person they had not met.

In the eyes of the registry, a soulmate bond where one party had no magic was not recognized.

In the eyes of the registry, what Yixing and him would not count. Junmyeon knows this, Yixing knows this, they had done the research.

So when the forms asked about the nature of their magic, Yixing lies.

His relationship with Yixing is easy. His relationship with Yixing is fun.

It’s nothing as grand as what Junmyeon has seen in movies and books; it’s nothing as dramatic as the local drama series portray. It’s simple and light and free of tragedies. (Though his mother had jokingly asked if Yixing would like for her to play the role of an overbearing mother-in-law. Yixing had laughed before mentioning that he would be willing to take up the challenge if that meant that he could proof his affections for her son.)

There’s no need for them to fall head over heels in love, and they didn’t, because love doesn’t work that way. Love is like the ocean, you would have to wade into it, take one step after another until you’re surrounded by nothing but the deep blue.

So they do. They start off with a casual friendship, they start off with getting to know each other over time spent together. They meet up when time allows, they don’t when they get too busy. There’s no obligation in forcing themselves to go into something bigger, something more committed than they had.

The thing about wading into the ocean is that you won’t know how far you are from the shore until you look back. Looking back now, Junmyeon finds it difficult to pinpoint when they eased from friendship into possible romance. He can’t tell when he had realized that he didn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Yixing. He can’t pinpoint when it had become more comfortable for the two of them to press kisses on each other’s cheeks than to exchange quiet goodbyes at the end of the day. It might be love, but it might not. All he knows is that it isn’t just friendship anymore.

And if what they have right now is love, Junmyeon decides that people have been complicating the idea of love too much.

Though it doesn’t go to say that it has never crossed his mind that perhaps, his soulmate is still looking for someone that was his. Perhaps it’s him that there was a problem with, perhaps someone above had decided to make a joke out of his existence by giving him someone who he was never meant for.

The thoughts that creep up on him the late nights where he goes a week without meeting Yixing due to the hectic schedules of a intern nurse and a business major student council head. The thoughts sneak up on him as he shows off little water tricks he had picked up from his father (“Dad’s gonna teach you have to impress him. Watch closely, Junmyeon-ah.”) with Yixing pressed against his side.

When he mentions this to his soulmate, the other boy simply shakes his head.

“You’re mine as much as I am yours.”

“Eomma… do you think that Yixing and I are right…?”

“I think, if he makes you happy and if you make him happy, that’s as right as it can be.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time his soulmate meets him at age twenty-three, and he wonders if all these instances of near death served as punishment for the disregard he had about soulmates in his younger days. (He half wonders if this was punishment for having someone who wasn’t his.)

This time, he doesn’t collide into someone and fall down the stairs. This time, the possibly of death isn’t an exaggeration. It starts with the accidental brushing of fingers along the corridor, which leaves a jolt through his fingers. He brushes it off as static electricity and continues down the corridor. It ends with his legs buckling from the pain that overwhelms him from shock of electricity that surges up his arm when a hand wraps itself around his wrist. The last thing Junmyeon remembers before passing out is the look of fear and concern on a stranger’s face.

He wakes up to scratchy bed sheets and his father sitting by his bedside reading a magazine. A quick glance around reveals that yes, he’s still in the hospital and no, it’s not because he had extended his visit over Yixing’s lunch break. His arm is bandaged from wrist to shoulder and it aches. “Ow.”

His father glances up from the glossy pages at his son’s groan. “Hey there, champ.”

“Hey,” His voice is hoarse, throat dry from the lack of water. His father exchanges his magazine for the cup of water sitting on the bedside table and offers it to Junmyeon.

“Slow down, slow down,” His father shakes his head, shifting his grip on the cup. “You’re going to choke yourself.”

Pulling away from the now empty cup, he clears his throat. “What happened?”

“You got a nasty electric shock. It’s not too serious but your arm’s got the worst of it. The doctor mentioned something about burns but they should heal in time.”

“Ah,” That would explain the pain that had coursed through his arm and the bandages. “Where’s mom?”

“Your mom’s outside, talking to someone.”

“Yixing?”

“No, it’s not Yixing. He’s probably doing his rounds right now.”

His mother enters the room before he could ask whom it was that she was talking to and rushes across the room to fuss over him. (“Why didn’t you tell me he was awake?” “You were talking!” “Your father, I swear. How are you feeling, sweetie?”) Despite the ache in his arm, Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

“Dad said you were talking to someone. Was it the doctor?”

“Oh! It wasn’t the doctor, no. Actually, there’s someone I think you should meet,” She pulls away from her son, turning to gesture for the stranger standing silently by his door to come closer. It was the face that he had seen before passing out. “Junmyeon-ah, this is Jongdae.”

“Hello,” Junmyeon steals a glance at his father who shrugs in response to his unasked question: who and why?

“Hello. I–uh, I’m sorry. About the electric shock. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It’s okay,” He moves to shrug, which was a bad decision on his part when a twinge of pain shoots through his upper arm. “It was an accident.”

“Ah, yeah. It was an accident, it’s just… this has never happened before.”

Junmyeon nods, confusion evident in his expression. Clearly he was missing out on something that he was supposed to have understood, there had to be a larger reason than apology for his mother to have spent time away from him to talk to Jongdae. There had to be something bigger for her to have thought that he should meet the other boy. He turns to look at her.

“Sweetie…” She takes a step forward, resting a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “What he’s trying to say is that you’re it. You’re his soulmate.”

“I’m not letting you go. It’s selfish, and greedy. But I’m not letting you go.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’ll work this out, I promise.”

“Of course! So… when do I get to meet him?”

When Junmyeon first meets Jongdae upon being discharged, he spends the first ten minutes reassuring the younger male that yes, he was fine now. That the scars would fade off over time. That there was no need to apologize for the accident. That Jongdae could sit closer if he would like since the wooden table between them was a distance enough to prevent any other possible accidents with Jongdae’s electricity. The younger male merely nods, inching his chair forward a little, before resting his hands on his lap once more.

Junmyeon spends the next thirty learning about more Jongdae. He learns that Jongdae is a year younger than him. He learns that Jongdae is a musical major and had been the lead for major school productions. He learns that Jongdae’s family consisted of mostly fire elementals, so it came as a surprise that his ended up being electricity. He learns that Jongdae has been searching for him for years, going to mixers and blind dates. He learns that Jongdae’s amused by how they had been brought together by sheer luck and his friend’s clumsiness (“Chanyeol thought it would be perfectly fine to surprise Minseok-hyung from behind but look where that got him. Frostbite sure is no joke.”) which was the reason behind Jongdae being at the hospital in the first place.

The last thirty minutes goes to Junmyeon telling Jongdae about himself. About how he was in his final year as a business major and that he was looking at a couple of corporations to apply to. He tells Jongdae about his water-wind parents and how it didn’t come as a surprise that he ended up as a water elemental (much to the pride of his father) and tells him about how he learnt to control his control over water under the guidance of his father. He talks about how he met his soulmate, laughing about how the important meetings of his life always ended up being accidents.

Things get a little shakey when Junmyeon talks about Yixing and the years they had together because as much as Yixing was his, he was Jongdae’s. He falters when Jongdae offers him an apology, this time for being an intruder into something that Junmyeon already that. He thanks the younger male but tells him that there was no need for apologies. They fall silent.

Things like these were out of their control, matches made in heaven, a pre-destined partnership. What was meant to would come to be, and if that meant that the three of them were to end up with this complication, then here they would be. There was no use thinking about what if’s at this point of time, not when nothing would change. Perhaps if fate hadn’t play its part, Junmyeon would have never met Yixing and ended up only meeting Jongdae instead. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Junmyeon had Yixing. Jongdae had him. This was what they had.

When Junmyeon asks if Jongdae would like to meet Yixing, Jongdae accepts.

Yixing meets them at the hospital cafeteria over his lunch break, the only time he could really spare over the week due to it being flu season. (“Sickness waits for no one,” he shrugs as he stabs a straw into his juice box. “If it did, I might be out of a job.”)

Things go better than expected, not that Junmyeon has very good expectations of three way meetings between supposed conflicted relationships, thanks to the local drama scene. There’s no screaming, no passive-agressiveness, no throwing of water into each other’s faces. All in all, Junmyeon thinks it’s a win. Jongdae’s still quiet and nervous, hesitant with his answers as though afraid to offend anyone, while Yixing talks enough for the both of them cheerfully in between bites of his bulgogi set.

He listens to the younger male diligently as Jongdae shares his story to Yixing, asking questions and nodding along. In exchange, Yixing tells Jongdae about his family back in Changsha, pouts a little when he mentions how seldom he gets to visit now that he’s a full fledged nurse. He talks about his work in the hospital and the people he’s met in his time here. He tells Jongdae about how he had tripped Junmyeon down the stairs on their first meeting. Tells Jongdae about Junmyeon’s parents, about Junmyeon’s embarrassing stories (“You should see his face on the rollercoaster, it’s the funniest thing ever.”) and about the really bad jokes Junmyeon has shared over the years.

When the end of his lunch break draws near, Yixing ushers his boyfriend away. “I want to talk to Jongdae alone. Go to the bathroom or something.”

“What?”

“I want to talk to Jongdae. Alone. Without you. We have secrets to spill. Buy me some chips, please!”

Grumbling, Junmyeon gives in to the Yixing’s request. “Alright, alright.”

Waving his boyfriend away, the nurse lets out a chuckle before turning back to face the younger male. Jongdae fidgets, uncomfortable with the fact that it was just the two of them now. This was it, this was how he was going to be threatened and chased away.

“Here! These should be helpful,” he pulls out a pair of latex gloves and presents them to Jongdae. At the younger male’s confusion, Yixing smiles. “You won’t shock us if you have these on, I promise. We’ll find something better later, these are all I have now.”

Jongdae nods, staring at the pair of gloves that Yixing drops into his hands. “I– thank you.”

“Also, if you have any questions about Junmyeon, don’t hestitate to ask me, alright? I’ll help you out. We’ll work it out.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae hestitates once more, glancing up at the older male. “But why are you helping me? Wouldn’t it be easier for me to… leave…?”

“Why would you leave?”

“Because I’m intruding, I don’t–”

“He’s yours as much as I’m his, Jongdae-ssi,” Yixing interrupts. “There’s nobody else I would be willing to share with him but the person for whom he was meant for. We’ll make this work.”

When Junmyeon returns with a pack of chips in hand, he’s greeted with the sight of Jongdae’s gloved hands in Yixing’s. Yixing shoots him a grin, passing Jongdae’s hand over to Junmyeon as he grabs hold of the chips. “I’ll see the both of you soon!”

They could make this work.

They get registered on a Tuesday. It’s the only day Yixing could wrangle a lunch break to meet them at the local district hall. After three long talks across two weeks between the three of them, Junmyeon had given in to the insistence of Yixing wanting to be there for the registration despite him not needing to. There were better uses for his hour-long lunch break, Junmyeon argues, he could grab a proper meal and get some actual sleep but Yixing waves it off. (“I’ll be there, wait for me, okay?”)

And so they do, they wait outside the distract office. Jongdae and him don’t hold hands, not because they can’t but because Jongdae doesn’t want to even though he has his leather gloves on. (“I can’t risk hurting you.” “You won’t, you’re wearing your gloves.” “I’m still not risking it.”) It’s a quiet wait in the late autumn afternoon once they had run out of topics to talk about before the final person of their trio arrived. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it’s something that they’ve gotten used to after all the times they’ve settled into the lack of conversation whenever they were left alone for extended periods of time without having Yixing or Junmyeon’s parents around.

The sound of running marks the arrival of Yixing who waved cheerfully at the pair as he made his way towards them. “Sorry, sorry! I missed the bus down. Did you wait?”

“Of course, we did!” Jongdae chuckles when Yixing reaches out to him, lacing their fingers together.

“You told us to, remember?” Junmyeon adds, shaking his head in amusement when Yixing’s hand had wrapped around his wrist.

“Go! I’ll be here when you’re done,” Yixing pulls the both of them towards the building, offering them two thumbs up when they turned back to glance at him. “Now, it’s my turn to wait.”

It’s tough being in a relationship with a person, let alone two. Despite being the one who was the link in their relationship, Junmyeon was more often than not the first one to flounder when it came to establishing dynamics. The whole is more than the sum of its parts and this was was more than trying to fit someone new into something that Yixing and him had shared for years.

It didn’t help that Jongdae wasn’t able to get over the guilt of having hurt Junmyeon once before. It didn’t help that Jongdae had decided to keep his distance when they had first met as a trio out of fear that he would hurt either of them during their time together. It didn’t help that he refused to touch either of them even after they had managed to close the distance between them.

What helped was the balance that Yixing had brought back to the disbalance that was created when Jongdae came into the picture. What helped was the patience that Yixing had when it came to dealing with both Junmyeon’s frustrations and Jongdae’s worries. What helped was Yixing’s suggestion of getting Jongdae a pair of leather gloves instead of the disposable latex ones so that he could have the opportunity to reach out for them whenever he wanted to. What helped was the fact that Yixing had more than enough love to share amongst the three of them.

They weren’t perfect in any sense of the word, no. But perhaps, one day, they would get there.

#suchen #sulay #exowriternet #exo fic #exo fanfiction #suho #lay #chen #fic fic baby #exo #my writing #this is the longest thing i've ever written omg

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every2piness-blog · 7 years ago

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Three years ago Meg and I hiked to the summit of Mount Saint Helens. We were new to hiking, and it was our first major summit. Despite avid research, I was not prepared to climb over pumice boulders and through ash in the extreme heat. We summited and made it home in one piece, but it was a route that seriously tested me mentally and physically. I spent fifteen minutes on the edge of the crater crying from both misery and joy, and falling in love with Washington volcanoes. Ever since that day, I have wanted to return to the monument with Meg to backpack in the blast zone. I knew that Dome Camp, with its view right into the crater would be the perfect spot to spend the night and reflect on how far we have come.

Mt. St. Helens and I have a rough history. I cried up her flanks to the summit in 2014. In 2015, I bought permits to climb to the summit again but had to cancel due to a lightning storm. I backpacked near Spirit Lake, only to take a wrong turn at the first junction and find myself on a washout 600′ above Spirit Lake. We bailed once it started getting too dark to make it to our campsite, the only time I have had to truly give up while backpacking. We returned the following week and I was surprise sick; the entire first day was a blur. I was determined to not give up again, so I pushed through and admittedly had a good second day. This year, I hoped to break my curse, enjoy Mt. St. Helens and relished returning to the volcano with Meg. When an opportunity to snag a mid-week permit on Wednesday and Thursday to Dome Camp, with a view straight into the crater emerged, I jumped at the chance. We were going back to Helens!

Day 1

Boundary Trail no. 1

We arrived at Johnston Ridge Observatory at 11 am and checked in with a ranger about conditions on the trail. The rangers didn’t know if Dome Camp still had water, so we each decided to carry 5L and bring a water filter, just in case. Given the lack of shade for the majority of the trail, we knew we would need more water than usual, and didn’t want to take risks in an unforgiving environment.

We strapped on our large packs, covered ourselves with sunscreen and walked through the parking lot to the paved trail. It felt a little ridiculous surrounded by tourists, walking on a paved trail with all of our overnight gear, but after about a quarter-mile, the trail transitioned to pumice and ash. The trail initially traverses the ridge, then turns north, so this section of the trail was our closest view of Mt. St. Helens. She loomed impressively large, and the landscape is desolate and hot. This area includes the direct blast zone where virtually everything was obliterated. Unlike later in the hike, where downed or stripped trees are the norm, this section of the trail is almost all ash, pumice and a few shrubs. We alternated between hurrying to get out of the area with no shade or water, and wanting to stop and enjoy the unworldly environment.

Starting out on the Boundary Trail

Pumice, ash and shrubs

Whole lotta brown.

After walking along the ridge for a few miles, we dropped lower through mounds of pumice and ash that looked like mini volcanoes, then across another ridge, where things started to get a bit more green. A heavy, rusted bridge covered a washed out section and the trail climbed to a broad saddle. To the right is Harry’s lookout, where the majority of the people on the trail were heading, but we turned to the left, and we began to climb up long switchbacks.

The trail was lined with strawberries and the sweetness in the air was almost overpowering. Switchback after switchback we rose above the shallow saddle until, at last, St. Helen’s Lake came into view. We stopped for a little lunch then continued on along the backside of the foothill. After a few more switchbacks, the trail narrowed significantly with a steep drop-off.

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Cool bridge

Strawberries!

One of many switchbacks

Foxglove lined the trail

As we rounded the corner, the trail led to a spectacular rock arch. It dramatically framed Mt. Adams and was pretty neat to walk under. We crossed over the ridge via the rock arch and continued traversing across the basin. Views of Mt. St. Helens, St. Helens Lake, and Spirit Lake continued to get better and better. The trail traversed under Coldwater Peak, and we decided to wait until for the following day to climb when we had reliable water. The strawberries and mountain huckleberries lining the trail slowed our progress as we ate our way across the basin.

The trail continued traversing above St. Helen’s lake. Unlike the earlier section of Boundary Trail, this region has many skeletal white trees. Most lay flat (or floating in a lake), though others remained as truncated stumps, a mere reflection of their original massive size. We crossed many saddles that seemed like they surely must be the campsite, until we finally arrived at Dome Camp. The first tent site was on a ridge, with phenomenal views of the volcano and Spirit Lake. It was the exact spot I have been dreaming to stay since our first summit. However, there was also a cozy tent site tucked behind the ridge, in a field of wildflowers, that was even more appealing than the ridge site.

Dome Camp

While the ridge campsite had incredible views right into the crater, the wind had picked up and was gusting at about 25 mph. We decided to pitch the tent in the sheltered area and enjoy sitting on the ridge. This decision was validated when clouds rolled over and obscured Mt. St. Helens. With the views quickly becoming white mist, we set out to make dinner. We finished the Underwood can of sparkling wine–way better than the Pinot Noir–and cooked up some ravioli with dehydrated pasta sauce. I also packed in some flourless chocolate cake for dessert, which proved to be delicious and totally worth the weight.

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Rounding the corner to Dome Camp

Our water source, small but effective

Jumping for joy-the curse is lifted!

View from the ridge

Wildflowers above the tent site.

Tent site is on the left, toilet on the left.

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Storm rolling in

Tent in its cozy home

The field right before we fell asleep

Yummy bubbles!

Day 2

Dome Camp

As the fog continued to encroach on our campsite, we crawled into bed for a solid night’s sleep. When we woke at 6:00 the next morning, the skies were blue and Mt. St. Helens was glowing in the sunrise. I left the tent at a run, grabbing my camera and scrambling up the trail, to the viewpoint where St. Helens lake was visible. We sat enjoying the mist covering the valley below Mt. St. Helens for about an hour. A herd of elk galloped through the meadow below us, crunching branches as they rushed past. Despite having my camera in my hands, they ran so quickly I was not able to grab a picture. In all honesty, it was my first time seeing elk in the backcountry and I simply wanted to soak it all in. We have gone some incredible places backpacking, and seen some jaw-dropping things, but this moment at sunrise with the elk and the mist has a spot in the top five.

Eventually, the desire for coffee was stronger than the desire to sit in the warm sunshine, watching the light crawl across the valley. We returned to camp, made breakfast and packed up. We retraced our steps above St. Helens Lake until we reached the junction to Coldwater Peak.

Coldwater Peak

With packs full of water, we were ready to climb Coldwater Peak. The side-trail to the summit is 0.7 miles with gentle, though exposed, switchbacks. The grade starts off very mild but gets increasingly more difficult as you get higher. It was completely worth the quad burn it for the views, however. In all honesty, we doubted the views would be that much better than what we could see from the normal trail, but halfway up Mt. Rainier appeared over the ridge. The craggy rocks lining the trail seemed wild and spectacular and being able to point to Coldwater Peak for the rest of the walk back and tell tourists we climbed that made it totally worth the side-trip.

With Rainier, Adams, Hood, Shasta, and of course, Mt. St. Helens all visible, it was one of the most incredible panoramas I have witnessed. The clouds still filled the valley and we appeared to be floating above the cloudline. We shared the summit with scientific equipment and could see our return trip stretched before us. The parking lot was both tantalizingly close and impossibly far.

Boundary Trail no. 1

We headed back down the Coldwater Peak trail and onto the Boundary Trail. We soon reached the arch again, stopped for more pictures and a rest on the cool rocks. Pushing on, we made it back to the saddle and into the hot, treeless blast zone. We continued despite our fatigue and sun-tiredness until stopping about half a mile before the car to eat lunch. Our lunch spot ended up being perfect; it looked directly on a herd of elk relaxing in the sun. They appeared to be the same group we saw that morning and they looked miserably hot on a mound of pumice. Whereas our morning group ran so rapidly we couldn’t take a picture, these elk were so still that I pulled out binoculars to make sure they were not dead.

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Fingers stained blue from huckleberries

Approaching the arch

A hillside filled with ferns

Looking at the parking lot, our final destination.

Are we there yet?

I swear there are elk in this picture.

We reached the observatory, changed into real clothes and popped into the ranger station to give them an update on the water source. After seeing so few people over the previous two days, it was quite the culture shock to be in the busy observatory. We attempted reading about the trail and eruption but were simply too tired. Three hours later, we returned home, I ate a burrito and slept for a long time.

Dome Camp- Mt. St. Helens Three years ago Meg and I hiked to the summit of Mount Saint Helens. We were new to hiking, and it was our first major summit.

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