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readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

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Always Trust In Pixie Dust

; Pixie!Seokjin x Pixie!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst

; Word Count: 14k

; Synopsis: As a vegetable pixie, you weren’t exactly considered the most desirable in the pixie hierarchy. But the uncle of one of your student’s is convinced that you have a secret admirer, only made worse when your younger brother and sister get involved. Will they succeed in their matchmaking or will your admirer come forward before they can get into too much mischief?

; A/N: Okay so...this is my first FULL Jin fic and I feel bad because I basically lost all inspiration for any writing about 4/5 through writing this. As a result...it’s pretty fair to say I’m a little uncertain of how this fic is and how you’ll all feel about it, particularly as there’s no smut anymore (it just didn’t fit). I love the world though, and I love pixie!Jin. I hope you enjoy it and if you do, PLEASE reblog because Jin fics don’t get the love they deserve, nor do solely fluff fics :( also, please leave me your comments and thoughts and asks so I know what you thought. I’m trying my hardest to get back into writing and just finishing this was hugely important for me!

“Kim Taehyung...you don’t have a child,” Your words cause the tall pixie with soft, peach coloured hair to pause with almost comically wide eyes turned to you. “So what are you doing here?”

He says nothing for a moment before straightening himself, crossing his arms over his broad chest and pursing his lips at you. Even though he’s younger than you, he towers over you and you work hard to keep your teacher aura that had him looking so chastised when caught.

“You’re right. I don’t have a child. But I do have a niece. Right there,” Taehyung points over to the little girl sitting on the floor, her voice sweetly joining the other girls she’s sat with as they sing a nursery rhyme together. “And I’ve been asked to bring her home by her dad.”

Twisting your lips, you sigh before nodding and gesturing for him to come inside. The nursery that you worked at was inside a hollowed-out tree, providing plenty of space for the babies and little ones who were not old enough to attend school lessons in the higher levels of the tree. Everything inside your room was bright and colourful though, the walls stained with the vibrant colours that came from the richest pigments created from flowers.

A mural of the forest and individual, faceless pixies took up one half of the circular room while the other was free for the children to paint on as they saw fit. Creativity was one of the most important traits of a pixie after all, and it was your job to ensure that they went wild with all their beautiful, creative thoughts.

The floor was dotted with dried paint, and even new paint splashes from the day's activities and you hummed lightly as you moved over to the line of reed twine that was strung up across the room, parchment hung on it in intervals with each one containing a drawing. Scanning over, you take the one with the little girl's name and hand it over to Taehyung.

“Miyeon painted this for her dad. Make sure that he gets it please.” You request, smiling at him. He looks over the painting with a critical eye before grinning, nodding before bounding over to Miyeon and crouching down next to her.

“Hey, sweetie. Did you paint this for your daddy? He’s going to love it. Look at your house! It’s so pretty. You’re so talented.” He cooed to her and you watched as her face lit up with happiness at the approval and support from her uncle. Kim Miyeon was the four-year-old daughter of Kim Namjoon, Taehyung’s older brother.

Unfortunately, her mother had died of illness two years ago and so she was being brought up by Namjoon alone. Everyone had worried about that at first given Namjoon’s eccentric nature. He was the inventor of the hamlet, the one who put all that intelligence and creativity to use to create new and useful things for other pixies to use.

But it often meant he could be forgetful and scatterbrained. Occasionally forgetting to eat things or working too long. The idea of him raising a two-year-old on his own had been nerve-wracking, but Namjoon had once more impressed everyone by being a doting father to his daughter.

He may forget to feed himself, but his daughter never went without. And she was proving to be just as creative and intelligent as her daddy. You weren’t sure the hamlet was ready for two people like Kim Namjoon.

“Uncle Tae!” She said, her voice its usual sweet mixed with a little shyness. But you couldn’t deny her love for her uncle, nor his love for her. Opening his arms, she jumps into them and giggles as he stands, pretending she’s heavy by making overly loud grunts and noises.

“Oh, oh you’re getting so big. What is your daddy feeding you?” He teases her, laughing as she starts to give him a serious answer. Looking over at you, he gives you a boxy smile before heading to the door.

“You know...I know a little secret,” Raising a brow at him, you make a gesture for him to continue and he whispers into Miyeon’s ear, a conspiratorial look on his face as he watches you the whole time. “Did you know that Miss Park has a secret admirer?”

She gasps loudly, putting two small hands over her mouth while her pretty eyes go wide. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and instead move a piece of Miyeon’s strawberry blonde hair out of the way of her eyes, untangling it as you do so.

“That’s not a secret Taehyung. You tell me that every time you see me.” Snorting, he rolls his eyes in turn before heading out of the door that you open for him. It’s warm outside, with the sun shining down through the forest canopy and a gentle, cool breeze causing the leaves and grass to rustle.

Taehyung’s wings, long and gossamer-thin like a dragonfly’s flicker as he moves into open space and you take in the hint of peach in the almost transparent wings. As with all pixies, his wing colour matches his hair and pixie dust.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna give you a hint this time. You know him.” Now you can’t help but laugh, leaning against the ancient tree trunk that was so familiar to you. Like all pixies in Appleseed Grove, you had also spent your early years in the rooms carved out of the old oak. It was almost tradition now, and everyone took care to make sure that the oak survived despite how it was being used as an education base.

“I know everyone in Appleseed Taehyung. So try again.” The younger pixie hums thoughtfully before winking at you.

“Okay, you may know everyone here. But your secret admirer is someone that you see every other day.” And with that, he spreads his wings and takes off, the soft fluttering of his delicate wings resulting in a glittering blur of peach as he flies off to Namjoon’s home with Miyeon safely secured in his arms.

Frowning, you watch him go before heading back inside to wait for the other parents to arrive. None of the children has noticed you leave and you lean against the wooden desk you use thoughtfully. None of the little ones had wings and you were beyond thankful for that. It was a pain trying to round them up as they moved on their little feet and legs so as a nursery teacher, you were beyond thankful that they wouldn’t get their wings until they were seven.

But you find yourself turning Taehyung’s words over in your head. He liked to tease you incessantly. It was in his base nature as the youngest son of his family and you were convinced the only responsibility he would ever accept was for the stables where he helped to train the birds that your hamlet was so famous for.

Pixies would travel from far and wide for an Appleseed bird. From the tawny owls that were perfect for anyone who needed to travel at night to the swallows that were used for general travelling needs and even the kestrel’s that were trained to help protect pixies and their land, Taehyung was surprisingly good at training them all.

No one was safe from his mischief outside of his work though and you sighed, wondering why you were letting him get to you. Still, though, he’d never given you a hint as obvious as this. Despite knowing everyone in Appleseed, you didn’t interact with everyone frequently. So that reduced the pool of suspects for your ‘secret admirer’.

If you ever had one.

Blowing out air loudly, you resolve to push his words out of his head for now. You’ve got more important things to worry about. Like little Jaebum who has started a paint fight with his fellow partner in crime Jiyong.

The incessant knocking on your door immediately gives you a clue as to who it is. There’s only one person who has that much pure energy and that’s your little sister, Park Jiwon. As soon as your door is opened, you’re immediately waylaid by both your younger siblings as they push past you into your home.

Groaning quietly, you rub at your face before closing the door and turning around. As a vegetable pixie, you had the luxury of living inside a baby carrot. As the name suggests, it’s pretty small and everything you owned was in this one room. A small kitchen was to the left while your bedroom to your right and a small living area further away.

Pixie social hierarchy is dictated by living status. Fruit pixies, like Taehyung, were the top as it required a lot of innate magic to keep their home sustained. Nut pixies, like your brother and sister, were on the second rank while vegetable pixies were below that. In an ideal world, it would just mean you all had different homes, with each home being directly influenced by your magic.

Your magic had manifested itself in a baby carrot, which was admittedly cute looking, Jimin’s in a chestnut and Jiwon’s in an almond nut. But pixie’s were notoriously finicky, which meant that they liked to marry into each other's social ranking. Fruit pixies to fruit and so forth. Which meant you were destined for another vegetable pixie.

You should be thankful, you guess. Only a few generations ago, your family had been rock pixies. Which meant they had no innate magic. So with your younger siblings being the first to ever manifest their homes in the nut ranking, you had hope that the future was bright for your nieces and nephews.

Didn’t help the small hint of sourness in yourself at the knowledge you’d been skipped over though. What you wouldn’t give for a better home, a nicer home. It was silly though, and you shook your head to escape the thoughts. It didn’t matter in reality, you had a good job, great friends and a loving family.

“What do you two want?” You sigh at the twins, their matching pale blonde hair the only thing you can see from where they sit on your sofa. Nut pixies were renowned for having the most similar colour palettes for their hair and wings. From the palest blonde to the darkest brown, your younger siblings had ended up on the paler end.

“Can’t we just visit our big sister?” Jimin says, a sweet smile on his face and you narrow your eyes at him. His cheeks were round and full, something he was never going to get rid of even though he was the same age as Taehyung. Same age and with the same mischievous mentality.

Unsurprisingly, they had been firm best friends since they’d met in nursery school. Which meant that Taehyung’s earlier mysterious comments had almost certainly been told to Jimin, who would have in turn told Jiwon. Because anything you told one twin would end up being told to the other as they were incapable of keeping secrets from each other.

“No. Well, yes and you do. Frequently. But I’m guessing it’s something to do with Taehyung deciding to be his usual self?” Jiwon giggles and it immediately sets off Jimin, the sounds almost the same except one had a feminine tone and the other masculine. Sighing deeply, you moved over to the kitchen and carried on making your dinner before looking at them both.

“Are you staying for dinner? It’s an apple walnut salad.” They both need eagerly and you snort in amusement. Despite the years between you all, and the fact that they had a much closer bond, you still loved them dearly and enjoyed their presence.

“So have you figured it out yet? Tae gave you such a good clue!” Jimin asks, reaching forward for your newest book that you’d taken from Appleseed’s sole library. It was run by Taehyung’s oldest brother, Kim Seokjin, who was a sweet guy if a little shy.

“What? That it’s someone in Appleseed who I see regularly? Narrows it down a little but not much munchkin.” A deep and overly exaggerated sigh leaves him and you resist the urge to poke your tongue out, not wanting to lower yourself to his level.

But he can tell what you’re feeling by the way your wings twitch. Jiwon pushes him, scolding him lightly and you chuckle at the reminder that she’s the older twin. If only by a few minutes of course.

“Shut up Jiminie. She’ll never realise,” You gasp in outrage at her quick betrayal of you and she simply flashes you a sweet smile in response. “Not until it’s spelt out for her.”

“Do you want this salad or do you want me to add in some paprika too?” Hissing, you point the knife you’re using to cut the vegetables for the salad and resist the urge to laugh at her pouting face. Jiwon hated paprika with a passion and you knew that apples were her weakness. There was no way she was giving up this dinner.

“Wonnie, you give in too easily to her.” Jimin scowls, poking at his twin incessantly until she’s squealing with laughter and wriggling around on the couch. Frowning, you watch them both and wonder how they don’t tear or break a wing. You wouldn’t think that they were both fully functioning adults with actual jobs looking at them right now.

There are better-behaved children in the nursery.

“Be nice to her, she’s my favourite sibling for a reason.” He gets up at that, so much outrage on his face that you’d think you’d just severely insulted him or something. Though with the twins, everything was a competition and so you probably had.

“Wrong. Anyway, I’m going to be your favourite sibling now. Because I’ll give you another hint.” Standing smugly, he crosses his arms over his chest and you pause from cutting the apples that you’d bought from the fruit market just before coming home.

“Why, exactly, do you think I care? Even if I find out who it is, nothing is going to happen. Also, stop being mean to whoever it is! They probably don’t want you to tell.” His plush pink lips pout out at your resistance to his teasing and you simply go back to making dinner, ignoring the two of them as they whisper to each other.

“You see him regularly, he’s older than you and you’ve been personally acquainted with him for your whole life.” Now that gets you to pause, frowning down at your knife as you contemplate Jimin’s words. Despite what you’d just told him, you can’t deny that you’re intrigued at the possibility of someone liking you.

It had been a while since you’d gone on a date and even then, he hadn’t been from Appleseed Grove but the next hamlet over in Greenleaf. Taehyung telling you that you not only knew your admirer but saw him regularly had reduced your list. But Jimin’s hints reduced it even further.

The list was still impossibly large in your opinion, you could already list several pixies whom you’ve known personally your whole life, but still. You can almost feel the answer. Shaking your head, you tut at him and frown as you try to push the inquisitive thoughts away.

“Jimin! What did I just say?”

Almost immediately he pouts, slumping down onto the couch in a remarkable imitation of a petulant toddler. Jiwon soothes him immediately, running her fingers through his hair and you want to scowl at their innate bond. Why was she making him feel better dammit?

“Enough, both of you. Come get a plate, it’s done and then I want you two out after you’ve finished eating. And make sure you wash your plates too!”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, your little brother and Taehyung do not let the issue go. You’re convinced that they’re hatching some sort of secret matchmaking mission with you as the main star. You trust Jimin of course, but you know he’s always one to get up to mischief and the combination of Taehyung and him is potentially devastating.

Still, you try to push it out of your mind as the last thing you need is to start stressing over whoever this admirer could be. And with your younger sibling, it could truly be anyone. For all you knew, it might be the sweet old man who lost his wife a year ago and is always tending to the community garden.

A shiver runs through you as that thought passes through your head. He’s nice, but certainly not what a young pixie like you wants. You have faith at least that Jiwon wouldn’t let her brother do something as mean as that. She might find the idea amusing but she probably wouldn’t let him get into it thankfully.

Opening the door to the library, you inhale the smell of fresh books with a small smile before heading inside. You’d already finished the book you’d taken out only the other day and had eagerly come back for something else, wanting a story to whisk you away in the evenings.

It helped that Seokjin was an incredibly handsome pixie too, you wouldn’t lie. The rose pink-haired man was perhaps the perfect man to run the library as he always had his nose pushed into a book and he had an almost perfect memory of everything stocked. No matter what subject you wanted, whether fiction or nonfiction, he knew exactly what you would like to read.

He was also incredibly shy and awkward, which was why he seemed especially suited to the quiet solitude of the library. Plenty of people visited it, of course, even now you could see a mother with her two young children picking out books, but it wasn’t exactly somewhere that saw a huge amount of socialising.

You liked that though and you liked his company too. It was understandable perhaps given that you spent your daily life around small children who didn’t seem to understand that they had inside voices yet. Seokjin was like a breath of fresh air to you. A very quiet, softly spoken breath of fresh air.

If ever there was anyone in Appleseed Grove that would be the most understanding of the never-ending struggles of your little brother, it would be Kim Seokjin. How he’d managed to put up with Taehyung when he was younger was beyond you because that boy was chaos incarnate. Which was another reason why you were here; you wanted to get Seokjin’s opinion on the whole thing.

He was a font of useful knowledge and had read enough philosophy and self-help books to be able to give you correct and relevant advice. Plus, he knew all about annoying little brothers who were determined to meddle in your life. There had been a rather amusing incident a few years ago where Taehyung had set up Seokjin on a date, only it had turned out his date was double his age and thought they were just going to play nuts and stones in the park with her other elderly friends.

Needless to say, it had been embarrassing for everyone involved and you weren’t sure how Taehyung was still alive. All you knew was that Seokjin must dearly love him. Either that or Namjoon had intervened to prevent one of his brother’s murder.

You really should ask him how he restrained himself because you were positive that one day you were going to have to do the same. And you did not want to see Jiwon sad because you’d had to murder her twin brother for embarrassing you.

At first glance, you don’t see Seokjin anywhere and you sigh softly. It looks like you’re going to have to search for the pixie throughout the aisles of books. Thankfully, the library isn’t too big. It takes up all the space in an old tree stump with bookcases lining the area that are all packed full of books.

Placing the book you’ve brought back behind the front desk, you begin to search through the aisles. You’re never quite sure what Seokjin spends his time doing in the library really and when you find him, he’s just crouched in front of the romance section. Raising your eyebrow, you watch him for a moment and simply take the moment to admire him while he’s not paying attention.

Seokjin is very introverted by nature which is unfortunate because he’s quite possibly the most handsome pixie you’ve ever seen. His soft hair is ruffled today, the strands made up of a range of colours from a deep rose to the lightest cherry blossom. A beautiful golden tan to his skin, round cheeks, luscious plump lips and enigmatic brown eyes combine with tall stature and broad shoulders to make him just plain beautiful.

He doesn’t notice you admiring him given how intently he’s staring at the bindings of the books, his delicate, translucent wings shimmering as they twitch in time to whatever he’s thinking. Pursing your lips, you shake your head to push out the intrusive thoughts before heading over and crouching next to him.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask lightly, looking over the novels he’s perusing and realise they’re all historical romance novels. They’re not your kind of thing as the topic of noble fruit pixies taking pity on lowly vegetable pixies or even worse, rock pixies. Society took a while to move on and you were thankful that the age of nobility had long since passed but there were still those who sought to imagine themselves in that period.

And as someone who would’ve been of the servant class back then, you had no wish to read about being ridiculed for loving someone higher up. You didn’t know whether Seokjin was interested in it or was just contemplating how to reorganise them. The shelf didn’t look to be in any specific order and if you knew anything about him, it was that he liked his things to be neatly organised.

Still, he hadn’t been expecting you as the yell he lets out is obscenely loud in the quietness of the library. Even more than that, he falls backwards in a scene that could only be described as comical.

Chuckling, you gently reach forward to help him rearrange his wings before he gets into a cross-legged position. Pressing a hand to his chest, he takes a deep breath in before exhaling slowly with wide eyes.

“Hey! Give a guy some warning next time please!” He exclaims a small hint of a whine threading into his voice in what can only be described as a Seokjin complaint. Snorting, you roll your eyes and sit next to him as you both stare at the bookshelf quietly.

“So, was there a reason you just frightened the life out of me?” Reaching forward, he takes one of the books off the shelf before carrying on removing the rest. You help him by taking on the other side of the shelf, humming to yourself with a tongue in your cheek as you contemplate how to ask.

While you knew Seokjin well enough to feel okay asking him about this, you weren’t exactly super close. He was a little older than you and almost intimidatingly handsome. Perhaps unsurprisingly, you’d had a big crush on your little brother’s best friend's older brother when you were younger. And that was a confusing enough sentence on its own.

As a result of that relationship though, the two of you had had enough interactions over the years to be called friends. Not close friends or anything, but enough that you felt comfortable talking to him. Plus, he was an incredibly calm and stable person when he wasn’t screaming in fear.

Along with that, if anyone was going to understand how to handle Taehyung, it would be his eldest brother. Which is why you let out your breath in a long, low exhale before placing the final book on the pile.

“Did you know Taehyung has been bothering me lately?” Cringing, you realise that makes it sound like he’s annoying you. And as much as you wish he wouldn’t tease you about this whole admirer thing, he wasn’t annoying you.

“Scratch that. I made him sound bad. He’s not bothering me really, it’s just...I think Jimin and him are on one of their matchmaking crusades again. Taehyung’s been telling me for ages that I’ve got a secret admirer and I pretty much ignored him because I thought he was just making it up. Only now Jimin’s got involved and it’s someone I know and see often?” You don’t notice the way Seokjin freezes for a moment, his hand pausing over the top of the book he was about to pick up.

“Oh...really?” His voice is weirdly high for a moment before he coughs roughly, clearing whatever had caused the pitch change before it’s back to normal. “A...secret admirer? How long has he been telling you that?”

Making a face, you wave your hand aimlessly in an unsure gesture as you shrug simultaneously. “I don’t know. At least a few months I think, I haven’t been keeping track. But when I pointed out the other day that I know everyone in Appleseed Grove, both Jimin and he decided to up the ante and are starting to give me clues. So now I know it’s at least someone who I interact with and not just someone who happens to live here. Which is still a really big pool to pick from given my job.”

Sighing deeply, you stretch out one leg before moving your hands to rest on the floor behind you, holding your upper body up as you stretch. There’s a soft fluttering as your wings stretch too and you shiver slightly as they brush against Seokjin’s own, lacing his with burnished copper pixie dust. Twisting your lips, you look over to where Seokjin is sitting staring at the pile of books.

Frowning, you reach over to poke his muscular thigh playful and tilt your head when he looks up. He has an almost curious expression on his face and you give him a questioning glance. There’s no response from him for a few seconds, instead, he just seems to look over your face intently before giving you a tight smile.

“Nothing more than that? No like...name hints or jobs or anything?” Seokjin asks, looking back away from you to start rearranging the books into alphabetical authors. Watching him, you tap at your lips before sighing and shaking your head.

“No. But it’s your brother. And my brother. We know what they’re like. They’ll get me believing them and it’ll turn out to be some old guy. Or even a bird knowing Taehyung. For all I know, they’re just talking bird poop to me and there’s no one.” That gets a snort from Seokjin and you look at him in confusion.

When he realises you’re staring, he coughs awkwardly and you can’t help but smile at the way his ears burn red, a shade almost similar to the rich red of the apple he lives in. His cheeks are soon flushing too and you have to bite your lip to make sure you don’t let yourself laugh too loudly to embarrass him even more.

Still, you want to know what’s got him like that so you stay carefully quiet to let him explain himself. After a minute of silence, that’s particularly awkward, he must realise that you’re not going to let the conversation move on until you’re done. Resting his hand on the cover of the book he’s placed onto the shelf, he takes a surprisingly big breath that has your brows raising slightly.

“I’m pretty sure there’s someone. I mean...n-not that I-I know who it i-is but like...you’re so nice a-and stuff. So...I-I mean, Taehyung is probably right. D-don’t you think?” Slowly, your lips twist up into a smile as you feel suddenly shy at his sweet praise. Hearing Seokjin sound so sure that there’s someone out there who likes you makes butterflies flutter inside your stomach and you feel the small flame of hope that maybe it’s even him.

It’s ridiculous of course because Seokjin is way out of your league. Like, he’s not even in the same realm as you so there’s no point in even hoping really. He’s a fruit pixie from a long, unbroken line of fruit pixies who is also ridiculously handsome and intelligent. There’s no way he’d want to lower himself to be with you.

Still...you can’t help but have a small hope. That crush from years ago apparently never died.

“Maybe. It’s a nice thought, right? I’m not exactly the greatest catch in Appleseed though.” Now he’s the one snorting, his eyes rolling in exasperation before he lets out an expletive, pushing at your arm hard enough until you’re almost falling over.

“Don’t say that. You’re beautiful, smart and have a great job. Anyone would be honoured!” Almost as if he realises what he’s just said, his eyes go wide and his already pink cheeks redden even further. “I-I mean...w-well. Y-yeah, what I said.”

Smiling gently, you reach and take his hand, squeezing it gently in thanks before gently scooting over the pile of books on your side. Even though you’d come here to get an idea of how to handle Taehyung, you feel pretty content now given that even Seokjin thought the admirer might be real. It made you feel a little excited to know that there could be someone out there, dreaming of living a domestic life with you.

“Thanks, Seokjin, you’re too sweet. I put the book I took out behind the desk, are you okay if I take something else?” You gesture back towards the end of the aisle and miss the way Seokjin’s eyes go a little soft at you.

“Yeah, sure. That’s fine. Just...write down what you took and I’ll note it down in the lodger. And hey...just ignore Taehyung if you want. I’ve learnt that eventually, he gets bored if he gets no real reply.” He gives you a small smile, looking remarkably small for someone so big as he sits there on the floor and you give him a smile of thanks in response.

“Maybe. I was going to do that but...I mean, if it is real...maybe I should go along with it? Find out who it is. You never know, it could be my future husband or wife. I’d be silly to turn that down right? It’s a little exciting too like I’m in school again.” Giggling, you give him a bright smile before waving goodbye and heading back out.

Once you’ve left his sight, Seokjin’s shoulders deflate with the long-suffering sigh he lets out while his head flops forward. Closing his eyes, he stays that way for a moment while mentally imaging all the ways he could murder Taehyung and Jimin without their bodies ever being found. He’d read enough books to be able to pull it off, surely.

Flower stems, he hated that he’d gotten drunk that one night with them all and accidentally blurted his long-held crush for you. It was something that everyone had already figured out long ago but that night, he’d confirmed it. And of course, his little brother and his annoyance-in-arms best friend had decided to do something about it and play matchmaker.

But what was he meant to do? He couldn’t kill them now because you looked to be too invested in the mystery of it all, the romance of everything. Would you be disappointed if you found out it was him though? He knew that he was good looking but at the end of the day, he was still the shy and introverted librarian who didn’t get too involved with everyone else. Not exactly the best catch.

Glancing back to where you’d gone, he chewed on his lip slowly before taking in a deep breath. Or maybe you would be happy with the revelation. If he let it get revealed of course. Would you ever consider him as a potential future husband?

Seokjin knew that the only way to find out that was to let you find out who your admirer was. But he was suddenly struck with uncertainty at the knowledge you’d find out via Taehyung and Jimin. Surely you’d like it better if he confessed himself? It’d be better coming from him right? Or would you be angry that he hadn’t said anything when you’d sat here, talking about it so confused?

Swallowing thickly, he wondered what the right decision was. And if he’d even make that decision or make a fool out of himself for everyone else to see.

The next few weeks are busier than ever for you with the coming Harvest Festival. It was one of the biggest events in the year and saw all pixies getting involved with harvesting the communal gardens. Thanks were given to the goddess of the harvest, Alixtra, and everyone celebrated in the hopes of a bountiful harvest next year as well.

As such, you were not only coordinating where you were going to be spending the Festival but also helping the children to get involved. That involved getting them to make special banners and decorations that would be hung throughout Appleseed Grove while also teaching them the importance of the Festival.

You were also being bombarded with Taehyung and Jimin. The two mischief-makers had gotten it firmly into their heads that they simply needed to have you figure out who the admirer was and so they’d upped their game. It almost felt like you couldn’t have a single conversation with them without them mentioning it.

As much as you’d indulge them under normal circumstances however, you were a little too stressed with trying to sort everything out to truly appreciate their efforts. So the most they were doing is successfully annoying you and making you wish that you didn’t even have a secret admirer.

Honestly, it was all just becoming a little too much from them and you’d snapped more than a few times. You had more important things to be worrying about than whatever they were cooking up. And you knew that they were planning something for the Festival. There was no way they couldn’t be.

Groaning quietly, you pressed a hand to your forehead as you tried to rub away the headache that was brewing. Today had been particularly stressful with the children deciding to be completely uncooperative. You’d had to clean up so much mess along with dealing with two tantrums and three fights.

It seemed the excitement of it all was getting to them. As much as you wanted to be angry at their behaviour, which was normally excellent, you couldn’t because they were just children. Children who were being a little overwhelmed by the fact everyone was suddenly making a big deal of the Festival. If the adults were getting stressed over it, then it wasn’t surprising that the children were struggling to cope with their emotions too.

So you’d soothed the tears when some of them had gotten too upset when their painting didn’t go right and you placated frayed tempers between friends until they were hugging each other once more. The downside to being the calm person throughout it all was that you had taken on their negative emotions.

As a result, you needed to calm down and the best way to do that was to take yourself off somewhere. Which was why you were at the aviary, the home of all the birds that Taehyung helped to train. They didn’t all live there obviously, most of them lived freely and returned when called but many chose to stay in the warm, comfortable spaces made for them.

And one of those birds was Sweetsong, Taehyung’s swallow who was his pride and joy. She was, as her name implied, incredibly sweet and had a pretty birdsong when she felt like it. You had permission to take her out whenever she wasn’t being used by Taehyung as you enjoyed riding but couldn’t afford a bird. They were too expensive to maintain, unfortunately, so you simply rode Sweetsong.

You were kind of glad of it, to be honest as you loved her. Heading into the aviary, you called out her name and smiled as she chirped before fluttering down to meet you. Big, intelligent black eyes take you in for a moment before she recognises you and twitters happily, pushing her soft head against you.

Sweetsong was a typical swallow bird with indigo feathers that turned into a navy blue across her head and wings. Her breast was covered in the softest feathers of cream and white, evidently having been groomed by Taehyung recently, while the lower half of her face was a burnt orange.

“Hey girl, how are you?” You murmur to her, smiling as you stroke her face gently. She follows you out of the aviary obediently and stands quietly as you retrieve the spider silk tack that was made just for her. It’s incredibly strong and light, which is ideal given how fine-boned she was, with the underneath covered in the highest quality moss to prevent her feathers from being pulled or caught.

Looping the bridle around her head and carefully adding the saddle, you reach for a handful of grain from one of the leaf bins nearby and feed it to her while checking her over. Years of handling her meant she was content to simply wait for you and you smiled, nodding happily as you accepted she was okay.

“Okay Sweetsong, let’s go for a fly, hm?” Whispering to her, you kiss her beak before moving to the saddle. Pushing with your wings, you landed with grace and positioned yourself as you’d been taught when you were younger. Almost immediately, Sweetsong changes position and you feel her becoming more alert and ready.

Clicking your tongue quietly at her, she tilts her head in response before spreading her magnificent wings. You only get a moment to admire them though before she’s pushing off, the sound loud against the quietness of the evening and soon enough, you’re both rushing through the air as she moves faster.

Grinning broadly, you hold onto the reins and lean in so that the air doesn’t hurt as much, letting your wings find their perfect position so they’re not uncomfortable while flying. While pixies were perfectly capable of flying and did often, it was tiring to fly long distances. Which was why different birds were trained, allowing them to carry you when you wouldn’t be able to.

Rising higher and higher into the sky, you both cleared the forest with ease. Taking in a deep breath of cold, fresh air, you sit upright as Sweetsong finds an air current and begins to glide along with it. She chirps happily, singing a song to her wild free who flutter out of the treetops as well.

The forest is far below you now, the green tops of them a never-ending sight as they extend out towards the horizon in all directions. Almost sensually they move, flowing together as the wind rushes through them and you’re reminded of the rushing river close to Appleseed. It’s far stronger than the simple creek that slithers through the Grove but the movement of the canopy reminds you of it for a moment.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and simply enjoy how relaxing it feels to be so high. There are no worries up here, no stress or anxiety. No secret admirers or annoying little brothers. It’s just you and Sweetsong with the final rays of the sun painting a striking image across the sky in pinks, oranges, purples and yellows.

This was exactly what you needed after the day you’d had. After the month you’ve had really. It was just...relaxing to have nothing to concern yourself about for an hour or so. Sweetsong flew steadily for you and the day was ending beautifully, making you positive that you’d made the right decision to take her out.

“Ah girl, what am I gonna do?” You sighed out, reaching forward to stroke the silky soft feathers of the swallow’s head. What you were asking that question about exactly, you weren’t sure. A lot of things were uncertain lately and you just didn’t know how to handle it all. Still, it felt nice to just ignore civilization for a while and instead just fly.

So that’s what you do for the next hour. The two of swooping and soaring through the air, travelling a good distance before heading back home. You can tell that Sweetsong is happy to just be able to fly how she wants given the cute noises she makes the whole time and you can’t help but laugh at them. Despite Taehyung being an annoyance for you lately, you wouldn’t deny that he’d done a good job with training her.

His pride and joy.

Appleseed Grove isn’t visible from the air at first, not unless you have a hawk’s vision. But the lower Sweetsong gets, the better you get to see your home. The small oil lamps have been lit for the night, giving the Grove a warm and cosy look while you see a few stragglers who are out enjoying the last of the evening light.

All around the Grove is a range of fruits, nuts and vegetables that are home to so many pixies. Single pixies and whole families of them arranged neatly in whatever magic is inherent to you all. A few tree trunks are hollowed out for social needs such as the school but otherwise, it’s a burst of pretty colours that blend.

Landing at the aviary, you quickly get off Sweetsong and set about getting her ready for the night. The bridle and saddle are removed while you quickly go and get the feather shine Taehyung had developed long ago. Running it along her feathers gently, you smiled at her pleased and content noises and kissed her beak once more.

Once she is ready to go back in for sleep, you walk in with her and give her a nightly feed. When Taehyung had agreed to let you take her out whenever you’d also agreed to care for her when you came back. That meant grooming her once finished and feeding her, along with cleaning her tack.

Which is why once you’ve got her all settled, you sit down on one of the small seats made from a broken branch to begin cleaning. The spider silk bridle is so light and dainty in your hands, yet you know it’s near enough impossible to break. Still, it can get dirty quite easily and the moss has to be cared for to make sure it doesn’t go bad.

“Y/N?” Your name is called makes you jump in surprise, the sound loud and unexpected in the quietness of the aviary. Looking around at the entrance with wide eyes, you frown for a moment in confusion at the sight of Seokjin before giving him a friendly smile.

“Hey Seokjin, how are you?” You ask politely, watching as he moves inside from the doorway. He’s playing with his hands, fingers pushing and rubbing against each other and you frown as you realise that he’s nervous for some reason. Although it was Seokjin and he wasn’t exactly famed for having an outgoing disposition.

“Hi, I’m err...I’m good. Yeah, good.” Tilting your head at him, your eyes narrow as you wonder what’s so wrong. He sounds like something’s wrong and you go to get up, unsure if you’re needed for something. Although what help you could be, you didn’t know.

“N-no, don’t get up. It’s okay. I just...I mean...I have something to tell you. Myself. Before others tell you. I just…” He swallows, his face paler than usual and you watch intently as he wipes at his brow with shaking hands. “I want you to hear it from me. And I’m sorry that I haven’t told you before now. But…it’s just...it’s you.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you wonder what he’s talking about as he’s making no sense to you. Who was going to tell you something? And what did he need you to know so desperately? You only really saw him when you went to the library so you couldn’t think of anything hugely important. Unless you’d forgotten to take a book back or something.

“I-I like you. It’s me. Your secret admirer. It’s, well, it’s me. I err, I don’t remember when it started or anything b-but it was a long time ago. I just...y-you’re so pretty and outgoing. I never knew h-how to talk to you properly like that. And I didn’t think that you’d like me like that either. But then you said that about Taehyung and Jimin and I panicked because what if you found out from them and not from me?” He continues to babble for a few minutes but all you can focus on is two immediate facts.

Firstly, he likes you. As in...romantically likes you. All those crushes you’d had as a teenager immediately come rushing to fore as you try to understand the fact that Kim Seokjin, the incredibly handsome and intelligent Kim Seokjin who was way out of your realm, liked you. This must be a dream or something.

The only explanation.

Secondly, he was your secret admirer? That gets the biggest frown from you as you try to comprehend it. Taehyung and Jimin had been pretty clumsy with their hints obviously, but they were right in the hints they had given you. You did know him well and you did interact with him frequently.

Plus, the fact that Seokjin was Taehyung’s older brother and Jimin was Taehyung’s best friend...it all made sense. Though why they’d started their crusade to get you together, you weren’t entirely sure. You were positive that you hadn’t given any hint to the fact that you could potentially like Seokjin.

Pushing those thoughts out of your head though, you decide that the most important concern right now is to make sure that the fruit pixie doesn’t give himself a heart attack. Which looks a distinct possibility given how stressed he’s looking right now.

Giving him a gentle smile, you reach out and take one of his shaking hands and invite him to sit next to you. The way he almost falls onto the seat has you biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing though it’s not helped by the way his eyes are so wide, almost like he’s seen a ghost or something.

“Hey, hey, Seokjin. Please...just calm down. It’s okay. I’m not going to be mean or anything. Just...take a breath and explain it to me properly. You’re my admirer? You like me?” The way your lips curl up into a smile as you say those words is mirrored by the warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Seokjin pauses, body stilling completely for a second as he acknowledges what you’ve said before nodding slowly. He’s not looking at you now, instead focusing firmly on the ground before him. Licking at your lips, you wonder how to handle this and it goes quiet for a few moments.

“Wow, teenage me would be dying of excitement right now,” You tease him lightly, pushing at his shoulder with your own as you grin at his surprise. “And I’ll be honest...adult me is pretty happy with this news too. You like me? A vegetable pixie?”

That gets a snort of derision from him and you almost sigh in relief at how his annoyance with the intricacies of the pixie social hierarchy is stronger than his nerves. Leaning into him a little, you inhale deeply and smile at the sweet scent he gives off.

“I don’t care about that! Who cares?! It means nothing other than your magic chose that to manifest in. Some of the smartest pixies in history weren’t fruit pixies so why does it matter? I mean, you teach the future of our society in school and…” He carries on with his rant, his strong brows furrowed inwards as he gesticulated wildly to go along with his anger.

It makes you feel a little warm at how he repudiates the societal expectations that you’d both grown up with. Pursing your lips, you let him finally finish before he takes a deep breath to steady himself. Then he looks directly at you, those beautiful and emotive mahogany eyes feeling like they’re staring deep into you.

“I like you Y/N. I-I’ve never dared to say it before because I didn’t think you’d like me back. I’m nothing like you and I know that. But I was with some friends one night and we got to drinking honey sugar so I was a little drunk and...yeah. That’s where Taehyung and Jimin found out about my feelings. I don’t know if I was going to get the courage to tell you but when you told me what they were doing...I couldn’t let you find out that way. Nor did I want to get blindsided by their scheming. If you want to reject me then…I-I’d rather you do it in private than whatever they’re planning.” He finished, round cheeks flushing a red that makes him look rather sweet while his eyes almost seem to shine in the low light.

You don’t respond for a minute, simply looking him over carefully and you note the way his broad shoulders seem to slump at what he probably thinks is a rejection. In reality, though, you’re just admiring how brave and bold he was to come to you and tell you this. Tell you his feelings that he was planning to keep to himself because he thought there was no chance.

All this, so you didn’t get hurt or upset at finding out who your admirer was. There was some selfish nature too as he didn’t want to get rejected in a public setting but still. You could only imagine how difficult it was to put yourself and your feelings out here like this while having no idea what the potential outcome could be.

Reaching for his hand, you take it and gently squeeze it reassuringly. He looks down and swallows hard when you manoeuvre your hands until your fingers are laced together. Lip quirking, you note how natural it looks to have them like that before you glance back up at him.

“I’m not going to lie, Seokjin. I didn’t exactly expect it to be you. I mean, I thought it would be nice but I thought that you were way out of my league and that I had no chance. So to find out that it’s you? I mean...I can’t think of anyone who I’d rather it be now. More So because you found the courage to tell me without letting me get suckered into whatever our brothers were planning. I appreciate that I do.” Pausing, you run your finger along the back of his hand and trace the veins and tendons there.

Seokjin doesn’t respond, instead just letting you explore while you get your thoughts together. You wanted to make sure that you did this right because you certainly were not planning on letting Seokjin walk out of here with a broken heart.

“I’m happy it’s you. And I can’t say that I feel exactly the same, but I know that I want more with you now. If you’ll accept it and accept me?” Once more, Seokjin’s eyes widen to the point that you’re almost surprised they don’t fall out. His wings twitch and vibrate almost intensely behind him, rose pink pixie dust fluttering to the ground as his nerves get the best of his control.

“Really?” Is all he blurts out, his plump lips forming an ‘o’ shape of surprise and you snort with laughter as you nod. Poking at them gently, you then let your fingers trace lightly over the smooth and silky soft skin of his cheek until you’re cupping it.

“Really. I’d be an idiot to say no to this offer! You’re quiet and shy, yes, but I love that about you. You’re also so intelligent and kind and funny. Always willing to put a smile on everyone’s face, even if it’s at the expense of yourself. There’s no way I’m going to turn you down, Mr Kim. So the question is...do you want this to become a relationship? An actual, romantic relationship with no interference from our brothers?” He’s silent for a moment, simply staring at you in what looks like awe.

It makes you wriggle in your seat, the spider silk bridle still carefully in your lap while the gentle sounds of the sleeping birds above you both form a piece of natural background music. Finally, though, you see his shocked face turn into one of pure happiness as his eyes practically light up with excitement, his cheeks rising as the smile on his face grows so broad.

“Yes! Definitely, of course. I mean...are you serious?” Giggling, you nod as he continues to stutter out questions to you. Squeezing his hand once more, you grin broadly as he almost floats off the seat in pure exhilaration, his wings releasing so much pixie dust that you can see it glittering in front of you as it floats on the gentle breeze.

“One thing though,” You say, causing him to pause with dread seeping into his expression. “We are going to get our own back on our brothers.”

The Harvest Festival always began early in the morning, when the first rays of sun began to lighten the sky and the birds sang their first notes for the day. For as long as there was natural light, pixies from all over Appleseed Grove would work together to harvest the crops before celebrating during the night.

It was your favourite time of the year. You were able to see the fruits and vegetables that had been carefully grown over the summer months and know that the winter was going to be easy this year. A year with a bad harvest meant that winter was a struggle, and no one wanted that.

But so far today, you've helped to harvest the strawberry fields. A few strawberries had left your basket and made their way into your mouth, their succulent bodies were ripe with juice and bursting with a sweet flavour. It was customary for pixies to indulge in some of the harvests, as long as it wasn’t going to impact on the overall crop.

You’d already filled six baskets with the luscious red fruit, the pile of strawberries being carefully placed by more volunteers into boxes. These volunteers had the most magic in the Grove, and they used that magic to seal the boxes. This meant the contents remained in an almost frozen manner, staying fresh for the coming months instead of rotting away.

No one knew how it worked really, nor did anyone know how they did it. It was just something instinctive that they did. You knew because you’d asked Taehyung one year. His family was rich in magic and they were always part of the sealers. He hadn’t been able to give you an answer as he didn’t know how he did it, just that it happened without conscious thought.

Through a little subtle influence, you’d managed to make it so that Seokjin was one of the sealers at the strawberry fields today. No one knew that you were together yet. It had been two weeks since you had agreed to start a relationship. Two weeks that had been almost dreamlike for you.

You visited his home after dark, feeling like you were breaking the rules or something, and enjoyed his company throughout the evening. Sometimes it was just making dinner today, feeling very domestic, other times it was reading against each other in silence. There had been a few incidents where the two of you had gotten a little more...involved than you’d anticipated, resulting in you having to rush out of his home in the early morning in the hopes you could get back to your home and change your clothes.

It was all very exciting and exhilarating, made even better by the fact that you loved to see the warm smile of happiness that spread whenever he looked at you. If you’d thought he was handsome before, then it was nothing compared to now when you could have him however you wanted him.

You were pretty sure you were fast on the track to loving this pixie.

The only reason you were both remaining quiet about your relationship was so that your little brothers wouldn’t find out too early. You’d been entirely serious when you’d told Seokjin that you wanted to get back at them. They had far too much fun pranking people and you felt it was time that they got a dose of their own medicine.

Seokjin had just fully agreed, laughing at the thought of outsmarting Taehyung for once. And he’d loved your plan as well. The both of you were going to have to be impeccable actors tonight.

For now though, you’d had to just settle with subtle touches of each other whenever you’d passed, a hand running along his back or arm or a gentle squeeze of your arm when you handed him another basket of strawberries. The smiles between you both were perhaps a little softer than one might expect, your eyes a little more loved up but no one was looking too closely.

It felt nice though, to have someone to smile and laugh with. You just couldn’t wait until it was finally out in the open, even if Seokjin was a little nervous about how people would react. For you, you didn’t care about the general population’s opinion. It was the parents that worried you a little.

Oh, your parents would be ecstatic at you getting into a relationship with one of the most eligible pixies in Appleseed. It was a step up for you, going straight from vegetable to fruit and Seokjin’s family were well respected. But you were worried about how they would react to you. For Seokjin, they would probably view it as him lowering himself.

You had hope though because Seokjin had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t care about anyone else’s views in regards to that. He liked you as you were and he’d told you many times over the last two weeks that he had never wanted anyone else. Which was always surprising to hear, but it warmed your stomach still.

Now though, the light in the sky was beginning to wane as nature painted it in streaks of oranges, yellows and reds while the sun began to set. The lanterns around the Grove were being lit and the bubbling sense of excitement seeped into the atmosphere.

You’d finished picking only around half an hour ago, the strawberry fields officially empty of any of the fruit. The boxes were all sealed and had been moved to the communal storage where they would remain until they were needed. Many other pixies sat around as well, chattering with each other as they waited for the final signal.

Seokjin was sitting next to you, tiredness etched into his face as he blinked blearily and you snorted, reaching over to push at him slightly.

“What are you so tired for? You weren’t walking the fields and picking!” Teasing him, you grin as he pulls a face and lets out an outraged yell. It gets a few looks from others but they just turn away with a smile, used to the way Seokjin was the loudest quiet person they’d ever known.

“Hey! I’ve been busy too. I just...I’m not used to all this manual labour stuff, you know? Or socialising this much. I work in a library for a reason.” He states plainly, his face carefully blank and you can’t help but snort in amusement. Perhaps it was different for you. Being a teacher meant that you spent most of your day on your feet, running around after children and picking up their stuff.

Shaking your head slightly, you can’t help but lean against him and enjoy the warmth he’s giving off. The nights are slowly beginning to get colder and you’re already not looking forward to the coldness of winter. Frost and ice were not friendly to a tiny pixie and you shuddered at the thought of it already.

The fear of your wings freezing and breaking was something that began in childhood and never quite left.

Remaining quiet for a few minutes, you found yourself almost dozing off on Seokjin’s shoulder. The hard work you’d done throughout the day was combined with how comfortable and safe you felt with him, his now-familiar scent soothing you and lulling you to sleep.

The sudden ringing of a bell throughout Appleseed Grove, the sound echoing off the trunks of the giant trees surrounding you, causes you to jerk upright. Eyes wide, you almost don’t hear the way Seokjin laughs as you realise your wings are fluttering in fright. Glancing behind, you grimace at the sight of the glittering pixie dust left from your wings, orange dust shimmering in the light.

“Finally!” You exhale, standing up and stretching with a tiny groan. A warm hand resting on your suddenly exposed stomach makes you grunt, shrinking back down and looking at Seokjin with wide eyes. He simply grins and shrugs, gesturing to the fact that almost everyone had practically sprinted off anyway.

“No one’s looking, it’s okay. Come on then, sweetpea. Let’s go enjoy the evening!” Seokjin doesn’t take your hand to lead you down to the centre of the Grove, instead resting his own on the small of your back and gently guiding you there. Smiling at him, you take a moment to quickly kiss his cheek while you have the chance before eagerly rushing past the now barren fields.

The bell signalled that the harvest was complete and stored away for winter. It also meant that the partying could begin, with everyone making their way back to the hamlet and getting ready to celebrate through the night and give thanks to Alixtra for what she had blessed you all with.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You say to Seokjin once you reach the first homes, looking up at him and giving him a bright smile as he nods. He doesn’t kiss you, but his hand lingers on your back before you go. You’re not sure what he’s going to do, for now, perhaps go and pay his respects to Alixtra at the Harvest Shrine.

But you’re on a mission as you have a specific job to do now.

Searching through the Grove, you eventually manage to round up your entire class and have them all gathered around you. The children have spent the day running through the various fields and playing, encouraging their parents and the other adults to work well while enjoying themselves. Now they all stand before you, looking suitably tired yet excited.

Children did not participate in the harvest itself, but they did have an important role to play during the Festival. Alongside helping you decorate and creating a suitably atmospheric mood for Appleseed Grove, they were also the ones who would make offerings to Alixtra for a good bounty next year as well.

Each child had a fruit or vegetable that had been picked today, the biggest and best of each crop held tightly in their small hands. Smiling at them all as you counted them, you crouched down and brought them all in closer.

“Okay everyone, we’re going to do this just like we practiced, remember?” They all nod at you seriously, their faces carefully restrained while their eyes gleamed with repressed emotion. “Good, come on then. Everyone’s waiting!”

Walking through the crowd of pixies that surrounded the Harvest Shrine, you smiled at them all in turn as they gave way to you and your little procession. Cooing and soft murmurs of joy rippled through them as they took in the sight of the tiny children and their big harvest, each small face full of concentration that made them look even more adorable.

Reaching the Harvest Shrine, you bowed your head reverently to the carving of Alixtra before gesturing to the children. Each one came forward and placed their harvest onto the wooden altar, bowing their head as you’d taught them before taking a step back. This continued on until everyone was done and the shrine was filled.

Looking them over as they stood in a straight line, their hands all linked together as you’d taught them, you grin before nodding your head to let them know they could finish.

“Thank you Alixtra for this harvest. Please accept our labour and bless us for next year.” The words were carefully monotonous as each child tried hard to remember what they’d learnt. You bite your lip to prevent the smile that wants to leave as some of them mess up their words but overall, it’s good and you feel unbelievable pride at them all.

Once done, they look at you and burst into grins and cheers of excitement as you nod your head in satisfaction at them. Laughing finally, you crouch and accept all their hugs before watching as they rush off to find their parents. The noise level increases exponentially as everyone begins to celebrate finally. There are no more rituals to perform, just excitement and fun to be had.

Looking around the Grove, you take in everything for a second with a smile. The lanterns give everything a warm, friendly atmosphere as they bring an orange glow to the bark of the surrounding trees. Festive bunting strung from house to house and tree to tree flutter gently in the soft breeze. The scent of honey glazed pine nuts and hazelnut crusted apple slices dances through the air lazily, causing your stomach to rumble in anticipation.

The familiar outline of your younger brother catches your attention though, his sweet laugh reaching your ears as he hands Jiwon a strawprise. It was a terrible name that had been coined long ago by a travelling pixie who had introduced it to Appleseed Grove. Half a strawberry coated in a sticky honey glaze and grilled before being coated in orange peel. It was delicious and a favourite snack to enjoy when the weather was warm.

You’re not surprised to see your siblings together. They are twins after all. What’s even less of a surprise is the way Jimin’s eyes light up when he spots you, his smile growing even bigger and brighter.

Sighing deeply, you steel yourself as you realise this is going to be the moment. The moment that Jimin and Taehyung have been working towards. When they would finally reveal to you who your secret admirer was.

What they didn’t know though, was that Seokjin and you had been working on your own plan to ruin their own. Whether or not you’d manage to pull it off was an entirely different story. It all depended on if you could both act it out properly without hurting each other or anything.

You’d find out soon enough though. Jimin was herding Jiwon towards you and it was only when they started moving that you realised Seokjin and Taehyung had been there too, hidden by the pixies waiting to be served. Neither of them had noticed you yet, both talking to each other intently while nibbling on their snacks.

Scanning over Seokjin, your stomach flipped at the sight of him. He was beyond handsome, entering the realm of ethereal. How you’d ended up being the one to gain his affection was still a mystery. He made a striking figure against everyone else around him, his height equal to Taehyung’s but towering over your smaller siblings.

While you’d been busy with the children, he must have slipped off to clean up after harvesting as his broad shoulders were highlighted by the white, silk shirt he wore. A lean waist tapered into his dark brown trousers, showing off his long legs which ended in the elegant leather boots. But you mainly focused on his face, admiring how nature had been so kind and generous to him.

His peony pink lips were plush and plump, glistening from the sticky glaze of the maple treat he was eating and you knew from experience that they were just as soft as they looked. Pink hair looked almost artfully styled on top of his head, making his tan skin even richer in the low lights while his eyes were creased in happiness as he laughed at something Taehyung said.

You loved Seokjin’s eyes. Even before you’d started dating, you’d always thought he had the sweetest eyes. Gentle and kind yet intense as well, the long dark lashes that surrounded them giving him an even more dramatic look. Yes, nature had fallen in love with Seokjin and you couldn’t blame her.

When combined with his patient, kind and inquisitive nature, it was impossible to not fall in love with him.

Which was a thought for another day, as even you knew that it was far too soon to be thinking such big thoughts like that. Still, your wings fluttered in anticipation at the sight of him as you hoped they wouldn’t betray the fact you were happy. It wouldn’t do to let Jimin and Taehyung achieve their little goal.

It’s not long before they’re greeting you, joy-filled on all their faces and beating out the exhaustion of all the work from today. You’re careful to act very politely with Seokjin, hoping you two aren’t letting on that you’re a little closer than your siblings might realise. As far as they were aware, you two were only acquainted and didn’t particularly consider each other friends.

“You’re free for the night now, right?” Jimin asks, slinging his arm around your shoulders before squeezing tightly. Cringing from the tight embrace, you poke at his side until he’s yelping and pulling away with a pout before holding out the strawprise he’d brought over for you.

“Thank you. And yeah, I’m all done now. Everyone else finished?” You didn’t think anyone else had any other jobs to do tonight but you weren’t entirely sure given how busy you’d been arranging your own time. Everyone shakes their head, including Seokjin, and you smile at them all happily.

“Great, then we can all just enjoy the night. Did you all have a good day?” The five of you move off to find an empty spot of grass, close enough to the festivities to be able to see, hear and smell everything but far enough that you can all hear each other without having to shout. Fluttering your wings slightly, you shift until you’re comfortable with them before realising that Taehyung and Jimin had moved around until Seokjin was sitting next to you.

It took a surprising amount of effort on your behalf to not reach out and touch him, especially when he’d placed his hand so close to yours on the ground. From this angle, he almost glowed in the gentle lights and you wanted to just rest your chin on your knees and watch him, fascinated with how quickly you’d fallen for him.

A sudden tickling sensation against your highly sensitive wings has you stiffening with wide eyes, glancing behind quickly to spot Seokjin’s translucent wing resting against your own softly. Twinkles of pink dust mixed with your burnt orange to create a beautiful image and you bit your lip as you turned back around, pleased with the subtle physical affection he was giving you.

Your wings were the most sensitive part of you with each pixie taking plenty of care to look after them. They weren’t as fragile as they looked, but it was considered especially rude to touch another’s wings on purpose. That social norm changed when you were in a relationship though and it was considered more intimate.

No one could see what Seokjin had done, but it made your stomach feel warm and tingly. Hiding your smile behind the strawprise that you eat slowly, you listen to Jiwon and Jimin start to argue over who had picked the most blackberries today. They’d both been based in that field and as usual, it had turned into a competition.

The argument certainly wasn’t helped by Taehyung making inputs now and then, grinning when both twins glared at him for ruining their point. Finishing your snack, you sighed and shook your head at all three of the younger siblings.

“I swear, is it impossible for you three to be around without it devolving into bickering? I see fewer arguments from the children I teach than from you all.” Jimin sticks his tongue at you in what was a very mature move while Jiwon scrunches her face up. Chuckling at them both, you glance over at Seokjin with a raised brow.

“Hey, don’t look at me! Taehyung and I don’t fight all that often.” He says with a laugh, holding his hands up almost like he’s trying to protect himself. That gets a snort from Jimin who looks at the fruit pixie next to you sardonically.

“Please, you live to bicker with Tae! And that’s nothing compared to when you’re around Jungkook. The three of you together are even worse than Jiwon and me.” Seokjin’s ears turn a delightful shade of red at Jimin’s accusation and he splutters as he tries to reject it. Giggling, you reach out and brush the hair from his forehead affectionately before letting your fingers trail to his now hot ears.

“Are you serious?” Taehyung suddenly shouts, causing you to jump in surprise and look at him with wide eyes. Your expression quickly morphs from one of a shock to confusion given the dual looks of surprise mixed with consternation on both Jimin and him.

And then you realise what you’d just done. The overly affectionate physical affection you’d just given Seokjin in a very public environment when you weren’t an overly affectionate person in general. On top of that, Seokjin had accepted your touch without complaint and without flinching away, something he would have never done before you’d started a relationship.

“Oh, apple trees.” You curse, pressing the palm of your hand to your face as you realise that instead of Seokjin and you ruining their plan, instead, you’d ruined your plan to ruin their plan. All because you can’t keep your hands off the handsome pixie next to you.

The quiet sigh from your right lets you know that Seokjin has realised that the game is up too. Thankfully though, he doesn’t appear to be too bothered by it. Instead, he just takes the opportunity to take your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and giving you the softest smile that makes his eyes shine with happiness.

“You two are together?” Jimin asks, his eyes wide as they dart from Seokjin’s face to yours then to your hands and back again. It almost makes you laugh at how surprised he looks and you realise that you at least got some victory in that they didn’t get to do whatever they were planning. Maybe this was the better result anyway.

“Yes. We did want to let you two go ahead with whatever you were going to plan tonight and then ruin it all for you to make up for all the times that you’ve annoyed us but that hasn’t worked.” Sighing, you shuffle a little closer to Seokjin before resting your head on one of his delightfully broad shoulders. He smells just as good as he had this morning and you wish that it was just you two, enjoying each other’s company alone amidst the revelry from everyone.

“Wha...when...when did this happen?” Now it’s Taehyung’s turn to have that outraged tone to his voice, which makes you feel a little better really. As much as you liked him, it was nice to finally have the upper hand this time.

“A few weeks ago. I’d gone to the library to take a book back and talked to Seokjin, telling him about you two and my ‘secret admirer’. Obviously, my ‘secret admirer’ was worried about what you were going to do so came and confessed before you could embarrass him. Or me.” Glancing up at Seokjin, you note his ears are going red again and smile softly, leaning to press a kiss to his cheek.

“We wouldn’t have embarrassed you…” Your younger brother trails off but his awkward expression catches him out, letting you know that they were probably planning exactly that. It’s made even worse by the way Jiwon snorts and rolls her eyes, pushing at Jimin’s shoulder hard.

“Liar, I’ve heard you two. I’m glad you spoiled it,” She grins at you before clapping her hands together in excitement, pure happiness shining from her as she looks you both over. “You’re so cute together!”

Now it’s your turn to feel shy and you press your face into Seokjin’s shirt, causing his chest to rumble as he laughs quietly. Letting go of your hand, he wraps his arm around your waist while carefully avoiding your wings, gently stroking your side in reassurance.

“Wonnie! Why do you always give up so easily?” Jimin pouts, his lower lip pushing out further than you’ve seen it lately while his eyes go wide and glassy at her. It has zero effect on his twin sister though who just sighs heavily before pushing him hard enough to have him falling over.

“I don’t give up easily, I just know when to not make a fool of myself.” She points out, crossing her arms and ignoring her brother’s attempts to get back in her good books. Taehyung doesn’t even try, just looking both Seokjin and you over carefully before sighing and nodding slowly.

“Okay, you ruined our plans. But it doesn’t matter anyway. You’ve done what I wanted, which is you started my big bro!” Now he’s giving you that trademark boxy smile, his excitement almost palpable as he wiggles in place. Watching him with a raised brow, you look up at Seokjin for potential advice but he just shrugs, obviously used to Taehyung’s changing moods.

“You’re not...mad?”

“Of course I’m not! I kept hinting it because I wanted you to date him. I know I can be annoying but I’m not cruel. I knew Seokjinnie had a big crush on you and he’d be good for you. So I don’t care that our plan failed because I still achieved my goal. Now you just gotta marry.” That has Seokjin spluttering, coughing up the honey water he’d been sipping at carefully until you’re patting his back in amusement.

“Steady, steady.” You murmur to him, trying not to laugh at the aghast way he looks at Taehyung. Eyes flickering over to Jimin, you watch as your own younger brother gets that look in his eyes that says he’s already planning mischief and you sigh deeply.

“You two are having nothing to do with any potential future engagement, do you hear me? Let us be for a while!” You curse at them both, shaking your fist and making Jiwon chuckle. Looking at her, she holds her hands up to placate you while shaking her head.

“Hey! I’m not getting involved in this so don’t get mad at me!” She pleads and you look away from her, lifting a brow as you look from Taehyung to Jimin carefully. Neither of them says anything but you note with a sinking feeling that they’ve both got those carefully neutral expressions painted on their faces.

The expressions that say they’re going to get up to something.

Almost immediately you stand, pulling Seokjin up with almost pure strength while you point at the two mischief-makers with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even think about it. Let us just enjoy the fact that we’re together, do you understand? And don’t you dare pressure Seokjin into anything!”

Grabbing Seokjin’s hand, you quickly walk away through the crowd before you can hear either of their protestations that they wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing. Seokjin doesn’t say anything either, just letting you lead him between people while you both ignore the fact that your obvious closeness was making subtle waves throughout.

Everyone knew everyone in Appleseed after all, so it wasn’t surprising that people noted your newfound affection towards the librarian. Thankfully though, no one was too inclined to say anything and just let you both go until you were on the other side of the grove, close to the aviary.

The soft cooing of the birds as they settled down for the night complemented the now subdued noises from the festival, letting you both feel like you were still part of everything while giving you both your own space. Leaning back against the fence, you carefully shift your wings over the top until they’re resting carefully before letting out a deep sigh that quickly evolves into a groan.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Seokjin cuts you off with a fingertip to your lips, an equally gentle smile on his own as he looks down at you fondly. The lighting isn’t as great here but he still looks beautiful.

“It’s okay Honestly, I’m not the best actor so I wasn’t looking forward to trying to keep a straight face. I’m glad we just got it out there.” His voice is calm and you can tell he’s genuinely not upset at you ruining the plan, perhaps even relieved that you can now both just be together without any of the cloak and dagger behaviour you’ve both been doing.

Although it has been fun to feel young again when you slunk around like you were trying to avoid your parents.

“Yeah...me too. Now we can just...be together. Normally and in the open.” You grin up at him before wrapping your arms around his waist, enjoying the way he feels so solid beneath your hands. Resting your chin on his chest, you close your eyes and simply take in a deep breath, enjoying how peaceful and calm everything seems to be at this moment. How much you just enjoy being around Seokjin, something you hadn’t even realised until you’d started dating.

“You’re happy, right?” Seokjin asks quietly, resting his cheek on your head while his arms come to embrace you around your shoulders. Nodding against him, you give him an affirmative noise as well, unwilling to ruin the moment.

You don’t need him to tell you that he feels the same. The way his arms tighten around you and the soft kiss he presses to your forehead lets you know, causing you to smile as you simply enjoy the moment while the rest of Appleseed Grove celebrates around you.

Despite the annoyance you’d felt at both Taehyung and Jimin only a few months ago with their secret admirer nonsense, you owed them for the fact that Seokjin had finally gotten the courage to tell you his true feelings. Not that you’d ever let them know that of course. But most of all, you were just thankful that Seokjin had decided to come forward.

You may have only been with him for a few weeks now, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without the beautiful fruit pixie in it anymore.

1K notes · View notes

my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Could you perhaps do Rung's Cyclonus', Tailgate's and First Aid's reaction to their human S/O being trapped in the same room as Rung and Whirl while Fort Max he has his psychotic episode? And Fort Max isn't exactly gentle with them either so

Couple of broken ribs there at least

I love how you guys are so invested in this situation and all the potential prompts because it miiiiight just be from one of my favorite issues of MTMTE... Changing canon for all of these in that Rung emerges from this whole situation with his head intact.

Rung

·He's accustomed to the risks inherent to his profession, and despite his tiny size compared to his larger patients he's more than capable of handling himself in most crisis situations, you knew that the moment you heard that one of his more recent positions involved treating the Wreckers. But when Fortress Maximus burst in to his office, clearly in the fog of an agonizing psychotic episode, he felt fear like he hadn't in ages. His terror isn't for him however. You were preparing to head out so Whirl could have his appointment, your smile as casual as could be as you bid him goodbye from the doorway, when you were snatched up by the colossal Autobot forcing his way inside. Just seeing your fragile organic body in that gigantic fist... Whirl had been unable to stop him before being stabbed to the floor, and he'd been equally incapable of doing anything to save you as he was pinned to a chair with a few errant pieces of warped metal.

·With what Max endured, he knows the hulking mech is suffering from pain he hasn't even begun to acknowledge, but that doesn't make it any easier for him to stay calm and proffesional as you're held firmly in his grasp. Words can't begin to describe how badly he wants to ask for you to be released, even if only to be set down on an available surface so you can breathe, as his sharp audials can pick up every tiny gasp from your struggling body. Yet he doesn't dare to risk upsetting the mech and potentially spurring him to squeeze. His always in control temper is almost able to break loose as Whirl antagonizes Max with you in such a vulnerable position, but he settles for broadcasting audio from his thumb's recorder to the camera he spots on the ceiling. All he can do is hope the bots watching are planning a rescue in short order...

·Things go south quickly when Maximus realizes his demands aren't being heeded, and of all those in the room it's you that pays the highest price. His thumb being torn off hardly compares to his agony watching you be held aloft as a warning and squeezed, your hoarse cry of agony wheezing out into a whisper as your bones audibly crack. Max actually seems horrified for a moment, particularly as you cough up crimson, but he doesn't end the ordeal. Clearly guilty but not deterred, he only lays your tiny body on a nearby surface as he returns to his demands. Nothing had ever hurt more than the agonized little coughs you emitted as you lay so perilously still... It had been enough to compel him to try the worst thing one can do in a hostage situation, ask something of the captor, even if it's little more than weak pleading for only your release.

·He has no way to describe how badly he wishes he could tear himself from his bonds, but when the footage of Overlord is projected on the wall and Maximus collapses under the weight of his trauma, he still finds the softness in his spark to lean forth and comfort the weeping giant with an embrace. While he'd hear later there were plans for taking a shot through one of the many windows, the presence of your tiny body had made it impossible, and thus he had the freedom to end the situation on peaceful terms. Fort Max had been gently led to a guarded room for solitary confinement, Whirl had been proffesionally extracted from his impalement, and you had been rushed to the medical bay while he was still being unstuck from the chair... He hadn't even cared about his missing digit when he'd been told you were being taken to a private room for emergency treatment, from which the medics had refused him entry due to the intensity of your injuries.

·When he'd finally seen you afterwards it had almost broken his spark. You had looked so unlike yourself; frail, lifeless, and connected to a number of life saving machines that beeped and hummed to keep you stable. It didn't matter that you'd be fine, the suffering you had endured already and would face while recovering was enough to overwhelm him with guilt, as he blames himself for the whole ordeal. He hadn't seen the potential for Maximus to suffer a break, and hadn't even been able to talk him down, resulting in suffering for you and so many others. Though he's encouraged and comforted by his friends, he keeps a tireless vigil at your bedside until you wake, occasionally brushing a digit against your tiny hand to provide some reassurance that he's here and watching over you.

·When you do wake up, he's the first thing you see, his gentle smile looking down at you while he welcomes you back to the waking world. The guilt behind his lenses is even more apparent than the pain in every part of your body. Initially he's steadfast in denying he has any such inclinations. All he wants to focus on is your recovery, and making certain you're not traumatized by what you've experienced, he says and insists in a way you know is merely half true. Only when you've recovered enough strength to pressure him does he break, expressing his boundless guilt at having failed you in such a high stakes situation, which he shouldn't even have allowed to happen in the first place. Your reassurance that the only one to blame for the ordeal is the mech who tortured Fort Max brings a measure of perspective, but it's the feeling of your hand in his that solidifies the sense of comfort, your total lack of blame allowing him to turn some of his boundless forgiveness inward. You made it, everyone had made it, and the two of you could bask in the wonder of that simple victory together. That was enough for now.

Cyclonus

·It takes a full legion of bots to hold him back when news of the situation reaches him. You'd been near Rung's office when Fortress Maximus had apparently grabbed you in his rush, and he cares little for calm or strategy when the full weight of the situation is explained to him. The only two other bots in there with you are Rung and Whirl, meaning that you're not only without protection, you're in the middle of a powder keg. He's only prevented from overpowering the barricade when a firm reminder gets him to see the need for caution; all Max need do is bat you aside with his hand and you'll die, which makes your survival unlikely in the event of any altercation. Such painful logic reigns him in to a simmering silence. Joining the main team on the bridge, mostly so he won't try another break in, he's left to watch everything play out on the security feed.

·He only has optics for you as he stands silently by. Though his motionless self could be mistaken for a glowering statue, any bot who looked closer would see the rage boiling in his glare, and how his claws twitched every time there was sudden movement on the screen, which was often due to Whirl gesticulating and Maximus pacing with his weapon ready to fire. Like a hawk ready to dive, he keeps track of it all. You're the center of his focus of course, but he needs to be ready the nanosecond you need him, and that means knowing the terrain to plot out potential rescue missions. Ten minutes into the ordeal he already has fifty or so plans to remove you from just as many scenarios that might play out. While he's initially fine letting the commanding officers take control for the sake of a unified front, that quickly ends when he sees that no effort is being made to storm the room in order to ensure there are no casualties, a goal he hardly agrees with.

·For all of his efforts he fails to hide how incredibly worried he is for you in this situation. Though he snaps the instant someone tries to reassure him, declaring that he has no undue concern but merely wants them to consider the delicate nature of organics, he convinces no one. As he watches Rung lose his thumb, his claws dig so deeply into his crossed arms that they bleed. The lack of audio which follows only makes his worrying turn to nauseous panic. Watching your impossibly tiny form sit tensely on a table brings up a deep buried bit of self loathing, an internal voice taunting him for putting his spark on the line for something so weak, but he crushes its efforts by thinking back to the happiness you've given him. You aren't weak, he's seen the strength of your spirit time and again, your body is simply fragile... As if to cruelly make his point, Fort Max picks you up in a sudden rage, holding you aloft as he roars threats none of them can hear before he squeezes.

·The sight simultaneously breaks his spark and flips a switch inside of him. Ultra Magnus himself is an insignificant obstacle as he does what he should have when this whole thing began; run to your rescue. Cries for him to stop go unheeded, and thankfully for the sake of saving time most are smart enough to get out of his way. As fast as he is, the room you're held in is a fair distance from where he was, and thus there's an agonizing amount of limbo he has to endure on the way there. Even through the dull camera feed he could see how you'd spasmed in Maximus's grasp, and the way your face had contorted in absolute agony... It hurt in a way he wasn't ready to comprehend. There's no way for him to know if you're even still alive, but as unthinkable as losing you may be, he's well aware of what will happen if he arrives to find you lifeless behind the blockaded doors. Hopefully for Fort Max it won't come to that.

·There's a sobering dose of bewilderment when he arrives to see the doors opening of their own accord, but that hardly delays him for long, and he barrels forward to discover a hostage situation that's been settled for precious few moments. Ignoring anything and everyone else, he grabs your tiny self and runs, silent as he's informed through comm that Maximus has surrendered and the medics are ready in the medbay. Unable to be grateful at the sight of you so damaged, he holds you closely but gingerly as if he might break you further, willing your ragged breaths to keep coming unaided for just a little longer. One of his last thoughts as he arrives at the medical bay and the medics take you away is how small your body is in his claws, which somehow makes what's been done all the more agonizing. What reason would any member of his species have to hurt something so incapable of fighting back? As he waits in the common area for news of your condition the question almost mocks him with his own history of misdeeds...

·Seeing you after the surgery does nothing to quell his conscience. Though he's told you'll live, it's difficult to restrain the urge to execute violent revenge on your attacker, and only his greater need to ensure your safety prevents him from doing so. The vigil he keeps over you is tireless and appears stoic to others, but when he's certain you're alone his demeanor is soft and caring, his digits gently adjusting your blankets or brushing errant strands of hair from your face as he waits for you to regain your strength. You awaken slowly and peacefully to the sound of a regal baritone singing a soft song in a language you don't recognize. A familiar thumb brushes your face as you open your eyes, the gigantic claw that greets you not intimidating in the slightest as you behold the faintest hint of a smile on a face otherwise wrought with pain. He's barely able to contain his guilt as he relays his ineffectiveness during your capture, but his gratitude to see you alive is equally obvious in the way he relaxes as you lay your hand in his palm. Weak as you may be, you reveal that you were still conscious when he took you to the medical bay, and how his protective grasp around you had allowed you to believe everything would be okay. The news has a profound effect on him. To hear that he brought peace to you even once, in a manner similiar to what you do each and every day, is beyond anything he could ever imagine. It's enough to make him content just to enjoy the simple gratitude of having you back.

Tailgate

·When he's informed that you're being held hostage he nearly has a panic attack, and when the details of who you're with are relayed only his drive to protect you prevents full on fainting. Through his panicking he's able to convince the commanding bots to let him in the crisis room, if only because not knowing what's going on behind the heavy doors simply tears him apart in a way he can't endure. Knowing what you mean to each other, he's allowed in, and his little visor locks onto your image on the screen without hesitation. Nothing beyond your somewhat blurry face exists in his mind. Small hands clasp as they usually would to hold yours, but the emptiness due to your absence makes him feel pain instead of any kind of comfort, something he doesn't know how to process as he watches you with sad intensity.

·From the moment Maximus makes his first demand he's pushing for your rescue and advocating giving whatever Max wants to facilitate your release. Though he knows that isn't possible, the helplessness of being stuck on the sidelines makes him desperate enough to want Rodimus to give it a try. That sense of powerlessness is exacerbated by the sight of you being held up in the giant's fist. He's woken up after six million years to find someone he adores, and he's going to lose them like this, after so little time together? It's not fair to anyone, but especially you! Rage boils over in his spark as the injustice of it all tempts him to consider charging in himself. All you ever did to Fort Max was be nice, and this is what he does in return? Knowing the bot is suffering a psychotic episode does nothing to quell his anger.

·With nothing good happening on the screen, he tries to recall all the happy moments you've enjoyed together to keep himself calm, replaying the fun movie nights and dates at Swerve's that showed him how wonderful life could be... But the strategy does little to help with his traitorous optics constantly flipping back to the video feed. Nothing has changed each time, but he still can't help looking in some desperate hope that Fort Max will realize you are innocent and either let you go or end this entire ordeal. In his frustration he snaps at the commanding bots for not doing something, and their continued lack of action angers him almost as much as their reassurances. Don't they know how important you are to him?! How you made everything better and that losing you might destroy him?! He's on the verge of a kind of furious panic attack when the situation on the screen goes south dramatically fast.

·Being a small bot means he knows how terrifying it is to be grabbed and pinned by larger Cybertronians, but he can't even begin to imagine how afraid you must be when Fort Max swipes you up far more aggressively than before after an argument none of them can hear breaks out. You're endlessly brave as always, resisting the urge to scream despite the fear and pain visible on your expression, but his worrying turns to a near breakdown when you're held up high and squeezed. The spasm that passes through you is so great he can practically hear the crack of your little bones despite the lack of sound coming through. Resisting the urge to be sick, he grabs onto Rodimus and demands that action be taken before he's forced to do something himself, and despite his tiny size his tone is determined enough to give every present bot pause. By convenient timing that moment is concurrent with Rewind finally getting into position and projecting horrifying images of Overlord into the room, debilitating the hulking Autobot and leaving him helpless whilst Rung talks him down. With you lying motionless in the line of fire Rodimus makes the call to quickly but peacefully have security forces take the room.

·Tailgate is tearing down the hallways before anyone can say another word, desperate to see you as soon as he can if there's still time. The distance between the command center and Rung's office means that he takes some time to arrive, and while he's a quivering mess of panic by then it's only made worse when he hears you're already in the medical bay and receiving emergency care, as your injuries are potentially fatal. Between exhaustion and grief he briefly loses consciousness, but when he awakens in the medical bay he has to be kept from leaping off the berth to aid you. Hearing that you've been stabilized gives him some level of peace, but he still pushes to see you as soon as he can, and no number of visitors can distract him from the agony of waiting, leading to him absolutely jumping when he's told he can see you... Though he finds no comfort in finally beholding your broken body on the medical slab. Still, he takes a dutiful place by your side and whispers idle conversation in a tireless watch that breaks only when he's forced into brief naps by sheer exhaustion.

·Your slow return to consciousness is greatly sped up when, in a rather natural gesture, you squeeze the familiar presence in your hand and get a loud squeak of surprise as a result. A blue visor brimming with tears welcomes you back to wakefulness, but the babbling that pours from the minibot is so emotional you hardly catch even a word at first, and your aching ribs make it almost impossible to speak loudly enough to get his attention. Once he finally gathers himself enough to speak clearly and relay the situation, he's despondent about his nonexistent role in your rescue, something you have to reassure him isn't his fault in the slightest. Weakly but with a smile, you reassure him that thinking about him was the only thing that kept you calm. He tears up again, but this time in a kind of relieved happiness, his helm gently leaning forward to nuzzle you with soft buzzes of affection. Knowing he was able to help in some small way... there's still a lot of healing to be done, but he's determined to stand tall by your side through it all, because you've reminded him that he's strong enough to hold others up.

First Aid

·As a medic, he's usually one of the first bots informed when something goes wrong, to get him ready for a potential influx of patients if nothing else. But this time he's contacted because he's an affected party, and his ever present ability to stay calm is put to a whole new kind of test. Though he manages to keep the panic on the inside, it's raging like an inferno in his spark as he's escorted to the crisis room, his imagination keeping him fully stocked on all the potential ways you could be hurt. Considering Maximus grabbed you in a rush to drag you into the situation, it's not at all unlikely you're already injured. Watching the grainy footage of you in the company of your less than ideal fellow hostages has his processor simmering with terrible possibilities. The reports from the medical bay regarding the rampage victims leave little doubt; Maximus is as powerful as he is unhinged.

·His optics are locked on the screen the instant he manages to gather himself. Every movement, every action and once the audio starts coming through every word is analyzed. Between searching for a solution and ensuring you're okay his thoughts are absolutely racing. There has to be a way to get you out safely, and the moment you're freed as you will be he'll need to be ready for any potential injuries. Losing you isn't an option. In the short few months since meeting you he's become so very close to you, closer than he's ever been to anyone, and in that brief amount of time he's already realized he wants to be with you always. You make him feel worthy, which is perhaps why this helplessness is so incredibly agonizing. For the first time since your relationship began he's feeling that certainty of his incompetence once more.

·The pain of his own self depreciation is offset by simmering anger at his commander's inability to resolve the situation. Deep down he's experienced enough to know they can hardly be expected to control a situation so volatile, but that logic hardly has an impact on his passionate need for action. It only gets worse as things in the room deteriorate. Whirl is hardly staying still to prevent further injury from his impalement, and while Rung covers his bleeding hand to prevent further energon loss, the casual way Max ripped off his thumb makes it clear he has no qualms about violence. An unyielding imagination fills his processor with terrible thoughts about what that same strength could do to your tiny body. Grisly images flash before his optics and drive him to try begging for action once more, though it appears too late as you're suddenly snatched up in a gigantic hand.

·The universe stops moving as you're squeezed with what he knows is too much force for your body to safely handle. The lack of sound doesn't stop him from identifying that you've undoubtedly broken bones, and in fact his hyperactive processor is already trying to work out what damage has been done. Crushed ribs, snapped clavicles, perhaps a fractured humerus, and then there were your softer organs and tissues... The blood on your lips as Maximus lays you down on the table makes it clear something important has been injured that needs immediate medical care. Demanding that a rescue be launched for your sake, he's given a rare bit of luck in the form of two minibots on rivet duty. The specifics of the operation are a blur he can't bring himself to care about, even as the gory footage of Overlord covers the wall, as your limp form is all that exists in his perception. Attempts to count your very breaths only end when the situation is reclassified as under control and he's moving before anyone can say another word.

·Immediate communication with the other medics keeps him in the loop, so he knows you've been extracted the moment it happens, and he plots his course to intercept the team that recovered you even before they reach the medical bay. A random bot on the security detail has you cradled in careful but uncertain hands when he arrives, and is more than willing to hand over the tiny body to someone who actually knows what they're doing. First Aid feels his processor split between his medical training and his personal feelings for you, with the former a calculated source of experienced reason and the latter a maelstrom of agonized panic. Though he's more than able to keep the proper half in charge, he's unable to prevent his emotions from tearing into him as he gets you to the medical bay, where Ratchet and Ambulon have already prepared for emergency procedures. His CMO is adamant on his involvement being voluntary, emphasizing that he knows all too well how hard it is to operate on those you care about, and that he can focus on their other patients if this will be too difficult. First Aid replies that he's grateful for the offer but unwilling to choose anything that doesn't mean giving his all to save you.

·Stabilizing you is a team effort only made possible by the research each medic did in advance on your species, and while he's grateful he took the time to prepare for something such as this, he'll never regret anything more than having to use that knowledge. Waiting for you to wake is harder than it's ever been for any of his past patients. As a medic he has work to keep him busy, but he constantly finds excuses to check in on you, and every spare moment is spent by your side. He checks reports, takes his meals, and even rests all at your bedside. By great fortune he's present when you finally wake up, and you've barely opened your eyes by the time he's checking you over. A worried expression is the first thing you comprehend as a gentle voice asks if you have any sedentary pain. Somehow it's a relief to have your worried medbot be the first thing you see, but you quickly put together this isn't just his usual level of concern, and that there's active remorse in his features. Firm insistence is required to get him to confess; for all of his analytical skills, he couldn't think of a way to resolve the situation to save you. It seems to surprise him when you bring up that he's literally one of the bots that saved your life. An attempt to deflect on the grounds that being a medic is just his job is stopped by himself at your look of silent pleading, and he remembers in an instant how much faith you have in him. Even if he doesn't always feel worthy of that admiration, he knows there must be something to it if it's coming from one such as yourself. That simple reaffirming of his abilities lets him focus on the miracle of having you here with him, and he begins gently and lovingly fussing over you as he always does, bringing the smile back to your face that he so adores.

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inkandpen22 · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (2/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, angst, mentions of death

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: Y/N considers Spike’s offer, but for obvious reasons she’s hesitant. However, she can’t deny the pull feels toward him.

Masterlist

“Forever is an awfully long time,” I state quietly, torn between the options of life or living forever.

“Um yeah, that’s sort of the whole point,” the stranger retorts as he pulls out a cigarette for himself.

“aw yes, that’s the way to get a girl’s permission to bite her,” I remark sarcastically. “Sass her to death!”

“I don’t need your permission, Pet,” he so ominously reminds me.

“I suppose not, but you prefer my compliance. Am I wrong?” I challenge.

He glares at me while lighting his cigarette. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” He mumbles bitterly.

“And you’re a hard ass,” I fire back, unfazed. He stares at me with raised brows. “Oh I’m sorry, are you the only one who can name call?”

His eyes roll dramatically with a huff of annoyance. “I couldn’t pick a mute girl to be interested in.”

“I imagine she’d bore you,” I predict, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs, “you’re probably right.” Casually, he hops up onto one of the nearby headstones and sits down.

“Get used to saying that sentence frequently,” I snicker, moving to sit on the headstone across from his.

“So, you want to be vamped out?” He waves me along, growing impatient.

“Oh, so I do have a choice?” I tease, pretending to be surprised.

“Not if you keep talking,” he grumbles, taking a hit of his cigarette.

“I have family and friends I have to consider,” I state matter-of-factly.

It’s true, I have a mother, my siblings, friends from school, all of whom will wonder what happened to me. I can’t just let that go.

“They won’t be a thought once you’re mine,” he claims, smirking at me mischievously.

“Why the sudden interest?” I inquire, genuinely curious. I imagine he could have anyone in the world, why me? Why now?

“I lost someone,” he answers, avoiding my gaze as he focuses on tapping his cigarette against the tombstone. “My girl, Druscilla.”

“So I’m the rebound,” I clarify, nodding in understanding.

His head snaps up, meeting my eyes directly. Apparently, I’ve hit a trigger point. He hops down from his tombstone and rushes over to me. The man pries my legs apart and stands between them. He cups my face in his hands, making me stare into his emerald eyes. “You will be far more,” he assures me with such certainty in his voice I can’t help but believe it. “You will be my reason for existing.”

My chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as I process it all. The longer I stare into his marble-like eyes, the more convinced I become. How could I ever deny him? “Okay,” I finally grant him my answer.

An amazing glimmer appears across his features and he steps closer. “Okay, what?” He repeats as if he isn’t sure he heard me correctly.

I place my hands over his that caress my cheeks. “Make me like you, but under one condition.”

He rolls his eyes, “should’ve known this was coming,” he grumbles. “What is it?”

“Tell me your name,” I request simply.

“Spike,” he answers without hesitation.

“What’s your real name?” I clarify, almost certain that ‘Spike’ couldn’t be it. “And not just your first name either, I want to know the whole thing.”

He frowns, evidently growing frustrated with the subject. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does!” I argue.

“But why? It’s stupid,” he dismisses sharply, removing his hands from me, but remains between my legs.

“Because if we’re going to spend forever together I’d like to know your real fucking name so just say it!” I snap at him, earning a look of surprise.

Visibly, there’s a strong debate occurring in his mind. He sighs, shaking his head as he glances around the cemetery then back at me. “William, alright? My name is William Pratt, happy now?”

“Over the moon,” I joke with a giggle, reaching up and holding his cheek in my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you too,” he pretends to be hard and disinterested in the charm of it all, but I can tell by the way he subtly leaned into my touch that he truly longs for it.

____________________________________________

Becoming a vampire is by the far the most freeing experience of my life or should I say undead life? Either way, Spike has broken me free of all torments and has opened the gates to the world. There is nothing we can’t do together. The entire world belongs to us. All we have to do is reach out and take what we want. Each night, I wake up with a strong urge to destroy and devour. I’ve never felt more powerful and entrancing.

I’ve been a vampire for a few days now, but Spike has kept me confined to the crypt for safety reasons. He claims I’m fragile in the early days until I become used to my new status. To build my strength, he brings me humans to feed on and is teaching me how to defend myself. I’m still learning how to fight in case I ever run into the Slayer or her team of misfits. Her very existence is annoying, such an inconvenience. According to him, I’ve been adjusting rather well, better than usual actually. So, to celebrate my growing strength and swift adaptions, Spike is taking me to The Bronze tonight. It’ll be the first time I’ve been outside the crypt in a week! There’ll be so many people to feed on and every opportunity to terrorize, I’m so excited!

Spike grips my hand protectively as we travel through the crowd of the club. I rarely had enough time to visit this place when I was human. Taking care of my mom and siblings all while balancing school consumed most of my days.

“Oh great,” Spike grumbles, tossing his head back.

I grip his forearm and squeeze his hand worriedly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The Slayer and her clan of party killers are over there,” he growls, his eyes directed sharply at a nearby table.

I purr, watching the table of oblivious teenagers hungrily. I spot the blonde Slayer as she chats with her friends naively happily. So, that’s the infamous Buffy Summers. Spike has described her to me frequently. Apparently, we go to the same high school, different grades. I never really branched out of my grade or friend group for that matter. Immersed in the idea of snapping the Slayer’s neck for myself, I move to approach her. Imagine what her friends would do if I killed her right here and now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spike repeats quietly in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist to stop me. “Not here, Love. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“But I thought you loved the dramatics, Darling,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on Buffy with a pout.

“I do, but we mustn’t yet.” He brushes my hair away from my neck slowly, planting a pattern of kisses on my neck. “Let’s go dance.”

I smile, spinning in his arms to face him. Spike takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor. We pass the table of goody-goodies and chatter ensues amongst them. I whip my head around and find the Slayer. Her eyes narrow at me, a confused expression across her features. I turn my attention back to Spike right as he stops in the middle of the dance floor. He brings his hands to my waist, pulling me in closer. I drape my arms over his shoulder loosely and meet his exquisite emerald eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.

Seductively, Spike and I dance as though we’re alone in the building. I see no one else but him. He stares into my eyes so deeply that I can feel it in my soulless body. I would wreck the world for him. I would do anything if it brought him pleasure. Spike is now my purpose in this undead life. My purpose is to make him happy. If we were to ever be parted, I don’t think I’d survive it.

“Get away from her, Spike,” a voice interrupts us.

Our heads whip to our side in unison. The little blonde Slayer stands with her arms crossed. A serious expression plaguing her face. Aw, why the frown Buffy?

Spike snickers, tossing his head back mockingly. “Won’t even wait five minutes, will you?”

“Get out of here,” she commands sharply to him. Then, Buffy turns to me with softness in her eyes. She grips my forearm pleadingly, “he’s not who he says he is.”

Oh, this is funny, she thinks I’m human. She assumes I’m an innocent defenseless victim. Okay, I could work with this. This may be the opportunity Spike and I was looking for, the perfect charade.

My eyes go wide and I step back from Spike anxiously, “what... what do you mean?” I move to stand beside Buffy.

Spike frowns at me as though I’ve lost my marbles.

The Slayer takes my hand, ready to pull me away, “he’s-”

“Must we cause such a scene?” Spike rips me away from Buffy, grabbing my wrist roughly. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go,” he instructs, wrapping an arm around my waist and escorting me to the door. I interlock my hands instead of leaning into him as I usually would keep up the act. Once we’re out of hearing range of the Slayer and her team, he whispers to me harshly. “What the bloody hell was that?”

I suppress a snicker, “you’re far too simple-minded sometimes, Baby. Buffy is going to follow us and I need you to just go with it.”

As he opens the door for me leading out into the alley, he glances at me in amazement. Finally, the pieces are coming together. “You’re trying to pull one on her.”

“Precisely,” I confirm with an evil grin.

Alone in the dimly lit alley, Spike squeezes my waist and tugs me into his chest. He bites down on my lip, peering down at me with a pleased smirk. “You are by far the most miraculous woman I’ve ever met.” Eagerly, he leans down and smashes his lips to mine. My fingers comb through the back of his hair and grip the edges in a fist. He growls against my lips and it only drives me crazier. Will, it ever subside, the wanting him?

The metal door to The Bronze squeezes and I instantly shove Spike off of me with a scream. He stumbles back, still in a daze from our kiss. “Help!” I scream, “someone helps me, please!” I pretend to be distraught and soon Buffy is by my side, ushering me behind her safely.

“I’m not going to let you take her!” She yells at Spike bitterly.

“Well that’s really up to her, isn’t it?” Spike mocks with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“She’s human, Spike! She doesn’t know what you are,” she argues, acting as the big-bad defender of man.

“What is he?” I squeak, sounding all poor pitiful. Honestly, it’s kind of annoying playing the victim. I sound like such a cry baby. Plus, if I were human, I definitely wouldn’t follow a strange man into an empty alley. I’d be asking to get murdered. No, I just talk to them in empty cemeteries in the middle of the night.

Buffy turns to me urgently, doing everything she can to keep me safe, how sweet. She grips both of my forearms, leading me away from spike. “Look, Spike isn’t a good guy, okay? He’ll hurt you or worse! You need to run!” She urges, gesturing down the alley to the road.

“But-” I stutter, glancing at Spike. Then, in one swift motion, I yank my arms free of Buffy’s hold and leg sweep her. She falls to the pavement with a smack. I tower over her with a giggle. “You know, grabbing people without their permission isn’t nice. Where are your manners?”

Spike jogs over and pulls me into his chest. I rest my arms over him around my waist and he places his chin on my shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Beautifully done, My Love.”

Buffy pants, staring up at us in confusion, “what the-”

“Surprise! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” I laugh wickedly, steadily approaching her like a snake going in for the kill.

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @currently-obsesed-with-spike

#spikexreader #spike x buffy #spike x reader #spike fanfic #spike #spuffy #buffy #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #fanfic #imagine

108 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

“Oh, you're everything I'm wanting -- Come to think of it, I'm aching... On account of my transgression, Will you welcome this confession? Could this be out of line? Could this be out of line, To say you're the only one breaking me down like this? You're the only one I would take a shot on -- Keep me hanging on so contagiously...” ~“So Contagious” by Acceptance

x~x~x~x

In Estrid Soelberg’s @thatravenpuffwitch sixth year, there was a noticeable shift in the kelpie who’d taken on the identity of Rudolph Ollivander. Ru was as snarky and anti-status-quo as ever, but they also didn’t seem to look upon everyone with so much universal disdain or distrust. They would initiate a game of Wizard’s Chess with their fellow Ravenclaws now again, including Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-needs-coffee. They enjoyed spending time with Galen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier, even going so far as to rope the meeker Gryffindor into helping him scare some of their classmates at the Shrieking Shack (which resulted in the two “running for the lives” to get away from their targets’ retaliation, Ru laughing their head off all the while). And with Estrid herself, Ru had actually started taking to asking her to dance with them and then whisking them away so that she wouldn’t have to deal with a hundred and one guys trying to court her at parties. Admittedly that particular behavior only made the rumor machine at school work double-time -- the entire school, it seemed like, saw Ru and Estrid as a couple, or at least sweet on each other, just because of how much time they spent together. It had been rather aggravating for both Ru and Estrid for a long time, even after they stopped actively hating each other and started nurturing a real friendship.

As their seventh year began, Ru’s relationships with both Galen and Estrid grew even closer. Before long, you wouldn’t see one without the other two. If Galen ever got bullied, Estrid and Ru would ride to his rescue. Whenever Estrid had to brave parties, Ru was her shadow, warding off all unwanted advances. And once, when Ru was challenged to a duel by a Gryffindor and one of his buddies and then attacked from behind upon them winning by throwing a potion in their opponent’s face, Galen went full-on “Papa Bear,” blocking the spell before it could land on Ru, disarming the bloke who’d attacked them, and sticking his wand right in the other Gryffindor’s face until he backed off. And as the three’s friendship grew stronger, Estrid really started to realize how much she dreaded the end of her time at Hogwarts. She’d miss spending time with Galen and Ru -- having them always there.

Ru in particular she hated the thought of saying goodbye to. As a kelpie, Ru had no real family, and they didn’t see themselves as having many prospects for a real future. They didn’t have very strong magic, and their life-span was short enough that they’d have trouble disguising themselves after a while.

“Sooner or later, any folks around me at a job or some such would start giving me the side eye,” Ru had said at the time, sounding rather grim and resigned, “they’d dismiss all the theories like botched Transfiguration or a Dark curse, and Bob’s your uncle, they’d figure out the truth. At that point...well. The game would really be over then, wouldn’t it?”

It was that masquerade that was central to Ru’s current life. They’d only gotten into Hogwarts by pretending to be Rudolph Ollivander, so without their identity as Rudolph, they didn’t have a pair of shoes to fill that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. And once that identity was taken from them and they were revealed for what they were, Ru seemed pretty convinced that no one would want to stick by them. They hadn’t even told Galen the truth about what they were yet, and Estrid suspected it was largely because they feared what their best friend would think, if he knew they’d stolen the identity of the Ravenclaw boy they’d drowned in the Lake four years ago. Estrid got the feeling that Ru was already preparing to say goodbye to their life as a human and retreat back to that solitary existence they led prior to attending Hogwarts...and that thought hurt Estrid. She hated the thought of Ru living out the rest of their life alone...only being able to look back at all of the fun things they did at Hogwarts, and never be able to try anything new ever again. Never be able to take any more pictures, or get any better at their crude animations, or even take a stroll through the pouring rain again...

The memory of the two of them dancing in the rain together the previous year rippled again over Estrid’s mind.

Ru had been so happy, just dancing with her in the rain and enjoying the squishing, squelching sounds made by their shoes and their sopping wet clothes. It just didn’t seem fair that someone who could be happy with so little had to condemn themselves to a life devoid of even those little pleasures. But could she really expect a wild creature to put their own self-preservation at risk -- expect Ru to actually brave the consequences of their past actions? As much fun as they had as a human, and as much fun as they had at school...well, it’d already seemed like they’d given up. Like they’d seen the writing on the wall and were prepared to go out quietly, like a very old cat sneaking out of the house to die in peace. And as human as they were...they were still a kelpie. Would they even be happy with the kind of life witches and wizards led post-Hogwarts -- one with structure, with employment and responsibilities -- with family?

Perhaps it was because of how guilty she felt about Ru’s situation that Estrid agreed to go with Ru when the kelpie decided to take advantage of the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend to sneak out to a photography exposition in a nearby Muggle town. It was likely because of his loyalty as a friend than Galen tagged along too...and perhaps because Siobhan Llewelyn had also caught wind that Ru was sneaking out and decided to tag along too.

It was a bit strange, dressing in something other than their school uniforms. Estrid had decided it would be practical to wear pants, since they’d probably have to be able to run quickly in case they got caught sneaking out or sneaking back in. She hadn’t been sure what Ru would do, exactly, since she’d never seen them in anything but their school uniform -- when Ru met up with them, though, dressed in a flared red hunting jacket and khaki trousers with no shirt underneath, she found herself completely unsurprised. Ru already never buttoned their uniform shirt, presumably because of how much they hated collars -- Estrid supposed it was only the next step, to walk around just in a jacket without any shirt on at all!

The exhibition showcased a series of so-called “moving pictures” -- compilations of still photographs that, when put together, created the illusion of movement. Magical photography tried to create such movement through the use of enchantments, like the kind used on enchanted portraits, but the technology of photography didn’t mesh well with those sorts of enchantments, since it was harder to “fold” the enchantments into the photographs the same way one could with paints, and so they were often poor quality and would often lose a lot of the magic trying to give them the ability to talk and move before long. But, as Ru pointed out to the others, these “moving pictures” the Muggles had developed could be played over and over and over again in a loop, and even if there was no sound included, the overall quality of the pictures remained the same.

“It doesn’t even try to recreate life, like wizards do with their pictures,” said Ru. “Instead it creates the illusion of life -- records one moment, rather than stupidly trying and failing to recreate everything that person was. And that one moment is enough! It’s more than enough. With that one moment recorded, you get all the information you need. You can fill in the blanks of everything else on your own.”

The four spent the day watching and enjoying moving pictures of walking in Paris, France, galloping horses, and even a girl feeding her cat. The entire time, Ru was transfixed, sitting awkwardly as ever on their chair between Estrid and Galen with their way-too-long legs crossed at a weird angle and leaning across their own lap to look at the pictures better. At one point, Ru leaned their head very far to the side close to Estrid, to try to see the picture from a certain angle, and their long black hair came down like a curtain beside Estrid’s face.

Biting back a laugh, Estrid carefully brought a hand up to smooth Ru’s hair out of her face. The gesture startled Ru and made them look at her.

“Here,” whispered Estrid with a fond smile.

She very gently reached up to tuck Ru’s hair behind their ear.

Ru’s face flushed slightly. Their electric blue eyes darted off to the side.

“...Thanks,” they muttered.

Close by, a couple of older matrons whispered amongst themselves.

“Ah, that’s how the couples are split, then -- left and right pairs -- ”

“Such a strange-looking pair on the right, wouldn’t you say?”

“Perhaps...but look at that dark-haired lad, he’s clearly smitten -- ”

“Is that a lad? Good heavens, that hair -- ”

Estrid shot a tired look over her shoulder.

“Sounds like people are jumping to that old conclusion again,” she said to Ru with a wry smile.

Ru was still blushing slightly, their mouth twisted in a frown. “...Mm.”

No snarky comment? That was odd. Ru would hardly ever pass up the chance to scoff about how humans’ ideas of “romance” and courting were utterly bizarre. Instead there was almost something...grim in their expression.

People wouldn’t be making that mistake anymore, Estrid thought sadly, if Ru disappeared back into the void, once their class graduated...

The kelpie returned their focus back to the screen, and Estrid followed suit gladly. At least it seemed Galen and Siobhan were too distracted talking amongst themselves to overhear.

Unfortunately the group couldn’t stay for the entire exposition, if they wanted to sneak their way back into school with the rest of the kids enjoying their Hogsmeade weekend without getting caught. And although Ru flagrantly ignored the rules most of the time, they seemed oddly concerned about the others’ feelings on the matter, for once.

“Don’t want your whole future getting derailed right as you’re reaching the finish line, do you?” they said rather gruffly.

Estrid had almost never heard the kelpie think of the future that way before. But, of course, even then...it was their friends’ futures. Not their own. Because they didn’t think they’d have any chance of a future themselves...

As the four sat together at the table in the Three Broomsticks, chatting and laughing over some butterbeers and pickled oysters, a fiery, robust feeling was slowly forming in Estrid’s chest, crystallizing and hardening like some kind of flaming hot diamond.

Ru deserved a future. Even if they had once drowned somebody and stolen his identity -- even if they’d nearly eaten a first year -- they’d grown so much since then, and Estrid had seen there was so much more to them since then. Ru deserved to be able to keep living as a human as long as they wanted. They deserved to live their life to its fullest, even if it was short. They deserved to have somewhere safe to go, even if everyone else found out the truth about what they were and turned their backs on them. ...They deserved to be happy.

“Estrid?”

Estrid felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. It was Ru, looming over her like a shadow as always.

“Everyone’s getting ready to leave,” they prompted her.

Estrid looked up. All the students in the Three Broomsticks were gathering together in a clump that migrated toward the door. Galen and Siobhan had already started heading out too, whispering amongst themselves -- Galen shot a very quick glance over his shoulder at them and smiled before turning back to Siobhan.

“...So they are,” said Estrid.

Despite this, she found herself not immediately getting to her feet. She stayed seated for another moment, her eyes on the table. She could sense Ru watching her, but they didn’t speak again. They sensed that she was deep in thought and decided not to interrupt. It was something Estrid appreciated about Ru -- they were never afraid of silence.

Estrid closed her eyes, exhaled through her nose, and then opened her mouth to speak. Unfortunately, before she could, a voice cut her off.

“Come on, lovebirds!” crowed a particularly obnoxious Hufflepuff boy. “Don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

Both Ru and Estrid shot the boy a very dirty glare.

“We’re not lovebirds, Wilfred,” Estrid shot back dully.

She sighed.

“...What is it you like to say about silence being better than stuffing the space with useless words?” she asked Ru, her voice touched with dry amusement.

Ru avoided her eyes, frowning deeply again. “...Hn.”

The amusement slid off of Estrid’s face. No snarky response again?

“Ru?” she asked.

“What?” said Ru.

“Are you...” Estrid bit her lip, “...is there something on your mind?”

Ru gave a loud bluster through their nose and mouth. “I would damn well hope so -- I don’t know how so many people go around with nothing in their heads...”

Estrid relaxed noticeably despite herself.

“Well, now you’re sounding more like yourself, at least,” she said with another light sigh and a small smile. She rose from the bench at last. “Come on then...suppose we’d better catch up with Galen...”

She’d barely gotten all the way to her feet when she suddenly felt a light tap to her cheek.

Estrid turned her head. Ru had brought a hand up beside her face, their long pointer finger and thumb only touching her skin just enough to prompt her to look at them. They’d also bent down enough that the collar of their jacket gaped slightly, showing off the Adam’s apple and the top of the pale chest under their silver chain, and that Estrid’s and their faces were only a few inches apart.

“Estrid...”

Ru swallowed. Something seemed to harden in their electric blue eyes, and they plowed on bluntly.

“...Look -- I’m attracted to you, okay?”

Estrid gave a light start, but Ru pressed on, undeterred.

“I know it’s stupid, but I like you. I don’t need you to act any differently, and I’m not going to prance about like a show horse trying to make you like me too. If you don’t like me as I am, I’m not going to change myself so you do. The only reason I’m telling you is…”

They glanced away uncomfortably.

“...Well, for once, everyone else isn’t being stupid when they talk about me being interested in you – and I just thought you aughta know.”

They looked her full-on again.

“Now you do.”

Estrid was left speechless. Ru’s electric blue eyes were very intense, and more serious than she thought she’d ever seen them, as they removed their hands from Estrid’s shoulder and away from her face.

It was strange, for Ru’s face to be so serious. It made them look oddly grounded, steadfast...dedicated. Ru had never been particularly suave or romantic in their manner of speaking, but the bluntness in their tone only seemed to highlight how very truthful and sincere the sentiment behind their words was. It was...really quite sweet. It was like Ru had rested a warm hand over her heart, along with lightly touching her face. A hand that made her feel fuller and happier than she had in a really long time.

Estrid had already come to the thought that Ru wanted to stay as they were, as a human -- to keep enjoying little human pleasures like wearing earrings and taking pictures...but now she also knew for a fact that if Ru could...they would also stay. They wouldn’t just charge off into the sunset and disappear. They might even, if she asked, not hate the idea of living like a human -- of having a job and a home like a human, of dealing with everyday human problems...of settling down and laying down roots and...staying.

If she asked...Ru might stay.

“Ru...”

Estrid reached out and took hold of the red sleeve of their jacket, preventing them from completely straightening up.

“...Come home with me.”

Ru stiffened. “What?”

“After graduation,” Estrid clarified. Her words came out at a bit of a rush, despite her best efforts. “You can stay with my grandfather and me in Denmark. I’m sure Grandfather won’t mind. You could look into a job with the Daily Prophet -- they could use someone who knows what they’re doing with photography. And if you’re sending stuff in through Owl Post, no one’ll notice if you don’t look human...I can always answer the door, if someone comes to call and you’re not yourself...”

Ru stared down at her, not quite comprehending what they were hearing. Estrid could feel her face flushing, but she kept a brave face on all the same.

“...You don’t have to stay here all alone, Ru,” she said under her breath so no one else could hear. “I’ll help you protect your secret. And even if everyone does find out what you really are...I’ll stand by you.”

Ru seemed stunned. Their electric blue eyes ran over Estrid’s face, dipping in and out of her eyes and into the corners of her lips. They didn’t say anything for a long moment, but Estrid could sense they were searching her face for any flicker of doubt. When they didn’t find any, their face seemed to lose the rest of its color.

They bit their lip, looking hesitant in a way Estrid had never seen before.

“...You want me to follow you?” they asked very lowly. “To live with you?”

Estrid’s cheeks were burning, but she nodded all the same.

“Yes,” she said.

And as soon as she said the word, she realized how deeply and sincerely she meant it.

She wanted Ru to follow her. She...wanted them to stay with her.

Ru’s expression seemed to clear. Their face broke into a broad, beautiful smile, full of both a childish kind of delight and quiet, soothing relief. They bowed their head toward Estrid, their lightning-like eyes sparkling just like the silver chain on their neck.

“...Well, then...”

Ru brought a hand up to tuck some hair behind Estrid’s ear, trailing their long fingers through it so that it lay flat.

“...Guess you’ll be my ‘keeper’ a bit longer then...won’t you?”

Estrid felt her own lips curling up in a smile too. “...Guess so.”

“You’d better keep a tight hold of me,” Ru said with a mischievous smile. “Kelpies don’t tame easily.”

“Oh yes, I’m very well aware,” Estrid said coolly. “Your lack of table manners alone make that obvious.”

“Humans have hands, we may as well use them.”

Once Estrid’s hair was smooth enough for Ru’s liking, the kelpie’s smile grew a bit more wry as they extended their arm to her in a mockingly over-the-top formal gesture.

“Lead and I’ll follow, madam,” they said dryly.

Biting back a laugh, Estrid brought her arm down onto Ru’s and started to walk with them toward the door.

“Oh...and Ru?”

“Yeah?”

Estrid moved up onto the tips of her toes as she walked and just barely managed to graze their chin with her lips.

“I like you too,” she said softly.

Ru looked down at her, startled. They examined her face again, searching it for any hint of insincerity or teasing, but Estrid merely smiled.

“It is weird,” she admitted, “considering everything we’ve gone through -- where we started...”

“...What I really am,” Ru pointed out lowly, cocking an eyebrow.

Estrid nodded. “But, well...I guess both of us were always a little weird, to begin with.”

Very slowly, Ru’s lips spread into another beautiful smile, purer and happier than ever. They moved into Estrid, leaning down enough to rest their head down on her shoulder and gently nuzzle the crook of her neck.

“More than a little,” they whispered into her skin.

With a light pink flush to her cheeks, Estrid secured her hold on Ru’s arm, and Ru straightened up again as she led them out.

The pair left the pub together, perfectly unaware of how many people around them were exchanging Galleons.

Turns out that Ru and Estrid had been the subject of quite a few bets around both Hogwarts and Hogmeade village.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #my art #ru ollivander #estrid soelberg #galen stagg #siobhan llewelyn #my writing #yesssss our two gender-role-defying victorians!!#when I found out estrid likes wearing pants I knew I just had to draw her in them at some point #particularly since ru just doesn't give AF about staying inside the gender binary #they may present male but if they like something out of comfort or because it's pretty then they will wear it #hence why collared shirts are a no but flared coats earrings and long hair are a yes #hope I did estrid justice lovely!! xoxo

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sa-suga · 5 years ago

Text

#OWLTIERIGHTS

∟ bokuto koutarou x gn!reader | humour/crack, a bit of fluff

warnings: swear words, tbh this is more like a squadfic, the author’s complete lack of knowledge about how the filming of news reports/variety shows work, i just decided over lunch that meteorologist bokuto is very much Valid and my gremlin brain latched onto that like a dying man

masterlist

summary: there’s a new addition to Fukurodani Studio, and he wears ties patterned with baby owls and smiles brighter than your studio lights. you make a note to send a bouquet to Nekomata, because wow, his new model of news cameras really are amazing, if you can see the stitches on Bokuto’s trousers.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Kuroo keeps pushing for the thirsty tweets idea, but, I don’t know,” you balance your phone in the crook of your neck as you frown at the reports in your hands, “haven’t we already done one of those this month?”

“Ignore him,” Kenma says over the line, and you hear the rapid smashing of a keyboard over the static. Yamamoto yodels in the background. “He just wants to see Lev meltdown on national television again.”

You huff at the memory. It’d been kind of adorable, the way he’d trainwrecked into embarrassment. “I’ll tell Kuroo you said to ignore him; hey, what do you think about-”

“HEY HEY HEY!” Someone bursts into the lobby from the stairwell. You're on the eighth floor. He’s not even winded.

“AGHAASHI!” He beams, looking around the room brightly, and you actually have to shield your eyes - which entity decided to casually drop a sun in the middle of an office in the dead of night? Well, you grumble internally, fuck you too, universe.

It takes you a while to map the name to the face, and you realize you’ve been silent for a moment too long - great, look dumb in front of the hot, athletic, sunny man, way to go Y/n, would you like to trip off a cliff while you’re at it? - “Akaashi-san is on the morning crew,” you tell him. A quick glance at your screen tells you Kenma has long since hung up. “He only comes in at 9a.m.”

You squint. Are those baby owls on his tie? They clash terribly with his checkered suit, especially when you take his odd hair into consideration. You think you might be in love.

"WHAT?” He crowds your personal space in a few large strides. You find it hotter than you probably should. And wow, those biceps. You could get between those.

“Yeah,” you repeat, as you ogle his neck - his tie is crooked, the top button undone, and you can’t tell if you want to pull it off or fix the stupid tie with the stupidly cute owls - “Akaashi-san’s the producer for the morning show, Fukurodani News, so he only comes in at 9a.m.”

He blinks at you owlishly. (Ha. Owlishly, owls, owl tie. Fuck, you need caffeine.)

Then, slowly, he turns to where there’s a clock somewhere behind you. You turn with him for dramatic effect. The building holds its breath.

There’s a satisfying tick as the hour hand shifts to point squarely at 11. The sky outside is dark, and you wonder if suffering through the powdery taste of office coffee is worth it for another shot of caffeine.

“Oh,” he says, sounding like a deflated balloon - you swear his hair even droops a little; how is a grown man who looks like he could punt you in the sun so adorable, what the actual fuck - “Aghaashi meant 11a.m.”

It’s love at first sight.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

His name is Bokuto Koutarou, and he’s the new meteorologist for the morning show.

He's also the love of your life, and you're not even being dramatic. In fact, you think you’re handing this very, very professionally.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

It’s 8p.m on a Wednesday, and you’ve shut the door to your office, drawn the blinds, and turned off the lights.

Steepling your fingers before you in concentration, you wait with a deathly sense of calm for the recording of the morning news to load. More specifically, a recording of the weather forecast segment of the the morning news. On loop.

“HEY HEY HEY!” Bokuto’s smile is contagious even through a screen. The mic crackles and lets out a ear-splitting shriek at his volume. You empathize.

“GOOD MORNING TOKYO!” His grin is blinding; it’s like he’d absorbed all the studio lights, decided it still wasn’t enough, and added a sun or two for good measure. You make a mental note to ask Yukie to dim the studio lights and turn down the audio for Bokuto’s segment in the future - the equipment is new, and it’d been hard enough to wheedle for discounts from Nekomata for his latest model of news cameras.

On-screen, Bokuto pauses, tapping his ear. “OH,” he says, “AGHAASHI SAYS THERE’S A POSSIBILITY OF RAIN TODAY.” His tie is crooked, you notice. His biceps bulge through the fabric of his suit.

Only the best cuts of meat for you, Yukie.

“IT’S GOING TO BE SHOWERING,” Bokuto says cheerfully, as he draws lopsided circles over prefectures on the interactive map with wild abandon, “SO DON’T FORGET YOUR UMBRELLAS! - HEY AGHAASHI, HOW DO THOSE TRANSPARENT ONES WORK? THEY DON’T STOP YOU FROM SEEING THE RAIN!” There’s a pause, and you can almost hear his answer - there’s a certain timbre that’s unique to Akaashi; his voice conveys all his desire for sleep and death while still maintaining a very polite edge.

“WOW, THAT’S AMAZING! HEY GUYS, AGHAASHI SAYS SEEING THE RAIN DOESN’T MEAN IT TOUCHES YOU! THAT’S LIKE PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK-”

“Thank you Bokuto-san,” the feed changes to Konoha, the host, and who’s doing a terrible job of containing his glee - are those tears in his eyes? - “now back to Yamato-san for the morning news. Stay tuned!”

You wonder if you can convince Akaashi to let Kenma borrow Bokuto for the night show. Somehow, you imagine he’d get along with Tetsurou, in the same way adding sodium to water would result in a Big Bang - like sure, there’d be collateral damage, but hey, the fireworks were pretty, and the sound was dope, right?

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Convincing all parties involved - except Akaashi and Kenma, who still thought it was a bad idea but were overruled by everyone else - that blowing things up on set is a good idea results in probably the most chaotic show you’ve ever produced.

“HEY HEY HEY, TOKYO!” Bokuto crows on set, fist pumping, and Yukie winces from within the sound booth, pulling her headset away from her ears.

“Today, we’re-“

“BLOWING THINGS UP!”

Tetsurou and Bokuto smirk. Lev, who’s waiting off-set, shivers. Inuoka whoops and presses a series of buttons in rapid succession. The ceiling above the set splits open, sending confetti streaking prettily over the two hosts of today’s show. The spotlights flicker on, and you actually have to squint when Bokuto smiles.

“Actually,” Fukunaga, the news anchor for the night show, steps in, “we’re just conducting science experiments.”

“WHY’D YOU SAY SOMETHING SO BORING WHILE SMILING LIKE THAT!” Bokuto crosses his arms across his chest, pouting, and wow, you really had to thank Yukie for getting him to wear more fitting suits.

You watch as Fukunaga’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not smiling.”

Tetsurou cackles. “There’s our Shohei - the only man who can read the news with a smile!”

If possible, Fukunaga’s frown deepens. You worry his eyebrows may knit together. “I don’t smile.”

Then a volleyball flies on set, tearing straight through the backdrop. The Tokyo Tower peels away and droops sadly, next to the statue of a whale outside the National Museum of Nature and Science, which is now missing its head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Shibayama from Editing sigh and drop his head into his hands as Konoha’s laughter rings throughout the studio - no amount of editing will be able to erase it from the tape. Devil spawn leave their traces everywhere.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Three days later, after an intense round of editing - you barely see Shibayama and Shuichi outside of the editing studio, and the occasional groans you hear when you pass by have half-convinced you they’ve turned into the walking dead - the show airs. The views skyrocket.

On Twitter, below the #HEYHEYHEY tag that has been trending ever since Bokuto’s first appearance, #FUKURODANISUPERIORITY is trending. You screenshot it and send it to Daichi.

Smiling, you make a note to send them a bouquet as congratulations; Shiratorizawa’s topped the Miyagi rankings for as long as anyone can remember. Maybe you’ll search for recordings of Karasuno’s show, to see what they’ve been up to.

(And crush them when they come for a joint show.)

Speaking, of, Yukie deserves a reward for her exemplary work. You’re nothing if not a supportive and professional boss, after all.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

You try not to drool as you watch the recording of the morning show from your office.

Yukie really outdid herself this time, you think, as you watch the way the fabric of Bokuto’s trousers pull taut over his thighs when he moves. Distantly, you’re aware of Inuoka calling your name. You ignore him.

Fuuuck, you exhale deeply. You can see the stitches on Bokuto’s suit. You can also see the thin sliver of muscle where he had paid absolutely no attention to the tucking integrity of his shirt.

No one is able to talk to you for the twenty or so minutes that Bokuto’s segment airs.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

At Fukurodani Studio, holding a party every New Year’s is a time-honoured tradition.

Akaashi calls it a celebration of past achievements and a way to start off a new year of improvement.

Kenma calls it a waste of time.

Most people call it free real estate.

Having a party that lasts from New Year’s Eve to the morning of New Year’s is a time-honoured tradition. So is the complete erasure of honorifics and superior-subordinate relationships.

(In hindsight, the honorifics were more for appearance’s sake than anything. You’d heard about Suzumeda extorting the Variety Show department, and she’s a stylist for the morning crew.)

Still, it makes for a wild night.

“HEY HEY HEY,” Bokuto slurs, pushing off of Tetsurou before collapsing, the latter cursing as he scrambles to take his weight, “OYA, TOK-hic-KYO, YOUR TEM-TEMP-TEMPERATURE IS S-SOAAAARING!” You spot Konoha already on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably.

Yeah, you remember, he’s a giggly drunk.

“Y/n!” Tetsurou spots you as you make your way past the crowd - Yukie waves at you from behind a plate piled high with meat - “Hey, take him for a moment, ‘kay? Kenma ran off and I think he left his coat.”

You raise a brow. “You’re expecting me to support that sack of muscle?”

“HEAT!” Bokuto exclaims, “BE-hic-CAREFUL, TOKYO! HU-HUMIDITY MEANS APARTMENT FIRES!”

“It really doesn’t,” you tell him.

He pouts. It’s adorable.

You sigh as you help Tetsurou guide him to a chair. “Okay, go find your baby cat, shoo, shoo.”

“Did you mean kitten?”

“Fuck off, Tetsu, I’m tipsy.” You wave him off.

Komi passes you with a paper cup and you pluck it from his hands and down half of it in one gulp. Beer.

“What,” you glare at him, “I worked hard to get you this buffet.”

“Didn’t say anything,” he raises his hands in surrender, bending down to inspect Konoha, who’s still on the ground, before giving him a decisive kick in the ribs. Konoha howls. Your skin clears.

“Enjoy,” he winks at you as he drags Konoha away unceremoniously by the back of his shirt.

You consider the contents of your cup. This is probably your third one - and you’re a lightweight.

Ah, fuck it. You down the rest of it, and throw the cup into a hastily set up bin.

Bokuto whoops when it goes in, “THAT’S DOPE!”

Turning, you stalk over to him. He beams at you happily, cheeks apple-red with a drunk flush.

You bend till you’re speaking into his ear, “Wanna know what else is dope?”

“Sure!” He’s a man-child. You’re in love with a man-child.

“This,” you say, and straddle his lap.

His eyes widen comically. You give him a soft smile, even as your hands ruck his shirt up so that it’s untucked. “If you want me to stop, now’s the time to say so, Bokuto-san.”

“You’re the attractive 11p.m person,” he says instead. Then, excitedly, “Can I really kiss you?”

You kiss him.

A dozen cameras go off.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Dating Bokuto is an Experience, to say the least.

It’s like having an overgrown puppy who doubles as the singular light source wherever he goes. It’s going to bed with goodnight texts and waking up with GOOD MORNING, MISS YOU BABE :( flashing across your screen. It’s waking up to find that the highest trending tags on Twitter are #WEATHERBOYHASABAE and #AMOMENTOFSILENCEFORTOKYO because he starts off his shows with, “GOOD MORNING, Y/N, TOKYO IS SHINING FOR YOU TODAY.”

It is, apparently, also receiving work emails about your boyfriend’s work ethic at 7a.m.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

thanks for reading!!

i’m aware this is lowkey highkey a crack fic and there isn’t much emphasis on romance here, but i wrote this as stress relief breaks from studying for my lit exams from hell so i decided to run with the chaotic crack (a la kuroo and bokuto),, please appreciate this it kept me sane :”)

also idk if other people do this but i love watching weather forecasts?? like this video is one of my favs; i stan a king going wild with taylor swift references

ok but for real though if i did this news channel au with the other teams would y’all be interested? (please lmk through asks if you’d like to see more because i really, really want to write it and i’m this close to doing it i just need enablers)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

taglist: @occasional-haikyuu, @pyblos, @roseonfireinwinter

if you want to be added to my taglist, please send me an ask!

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!!#kyouka writes

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

Text

Rosebud Prologue:The first move.

In times of despair and sorrow there are fundamentally two options. Wallow in it, or move forward despite through the pain. A wise person would recommend escaping one’s own personal suffering. A wiser man would ask the question nobody else does. When you move forward, what happens to things left behind? They don’t fade away, not always. Sometimes...they try to keep up.

It was just another day. Ruby was doing dishes while her fourteen year old daughter, Carmine, held her baby brother in her arms. The little monster was enjoying his bottle while his happy sister hummed Gold to him. Ruby couldn’t help but feel all warm inside. Carmine had been doing everything and more to help out. This past year could’ve been way harder without her, but now things had fallen into a decent routine. More importantly, Ruby could say goodbye to sweatpants again and hello to corsets! Her body was back in action like it was before pregnancy. Loving her children had no limits but it felt heavenly to not feel like a balloon again. Jaune never complained though. Most likely because it meant it was his turn to whip her into shape. The sneaky husband loved helping with her stretches.

Ruby put away the last dish and dried her hands. “Wanna switch off?” She asked, clearly seeing Carmine enjoy her current duty. The girl shook her head no. “I’m fine feeding Garnet. Just another role as big sis!” Her smile practically reached her eyes. Ruby noticed Carmine had her red contacts in. “Going somewhere soon?

“Yep. When dad gets back with groceries I’m gonna head out to do a bit of patrolling. Thought I’d stop by Sun’s place and see if Aero wanted to join. He gets snippy if I don’t at least try and convince him to join.” Ruby laughed, that was pretty on brand for the boy. “Just don’t go around town starting trouble. I’m tired of the cops telling me you’re playing vigilante.” Carmine couldn’t help scoff at such exaggerated claims. “How’s it my fault I happened to encounter a gang leader in his hidden base of operations? It was poorly hidden. Besides, the cops haven’t called in weeks.”

Ruby’s scroll immediately starts ringing with the Vacou police department ID on it. She turns to Carmine and sighs. “Listen, I was wild like this too, but not this wild.” Carmine raised an eyebrow. “But...I haven’t done anything. In a while, or that they can prove…” she hoped. Ruby only shook her head tiredly and answered. “What or who did Carmine break?” The officer laughed lightly before it faded off. “No no, this isn’t about Carmine. One of the stations a couple of miles out of the kingdom to the neighboring towns called our department. If I’m correct, you were very close with Maria Calavera, yes?” Ruby moved away from her kids and spoke lower. Maria had passed away several years ago. It was the first time Carmine looked so hurt. “Yes, is everything okay? Did something happen to her house,”

“Her home is fine, but not her tombstone. Apparently some punk kid decided to defile it. The cops are wondering if you can drop by and scare the punk into proper shape. You know how people get when they meet you. Also you take care and technically on it, so pressing charges have to come from you.” Ruby was still processing someone disrespecting a grave. To what gain? Maria had no more enemies. Not to mention that her grave wasn’t in a cemetery. It was moved to a hill near the outskirts. “Yeah I’ll show up. I can’t promise I won’t scare the kid to death though. I can’t believe a person did such a thing. This world I’ll tell ya; give me a few minutes to head out. Have them with me so they can admire their work before I make them clean it all up.” Ruby hung up and let out a sigh. There was always something.

“Everything okay?” Carmine asked. She walked towards her mother and held Garnet's adorably chubby face in front of Ruby’s face. It was impossible not to smile at it. “Hehe, I’m fine. Looks like a certain baby is fine too. I might have to put this boy on a diet!” She poked his tummy and patted Carmine’s head. “I gotta go to your abuela’s gravesite. Somebody was messing with it and I gotta give them a stern talking to.” Carmine looked as stunned as Ruby did, then her face scowled. Ruby had seen that before. “Nah ah, you can not come and beat them up.”

Carmine poked her lips out. “You’re no fun. I guess I’ll keep the house safe with Garnet then.” As if she had a choice. Who else was gonna do it!? She stopped pouting when Ruby kissed her forehead. Carmine wanted to rub it off but her hands were full. “Mom!” Ruby stuck her tongue out childishly as she walked away. “Lock the door! You dad will be home soon.” The front door was closed and the house became a little more quiet. “Well it’s just you and I now.” Garnet blinked his eye at her curiously before spitting up a little on himself. Carmine closes her eyes to collect herself. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

xxxx

The trip to Esperanza from the outskirts of Vacou was only a couple miles; not a real problem for someone who walked all the way to Haven. Ruby reached Maria’s small and festive hometown in about half an hour. It was still rather early for everyone to be out and about but noise and smells of food sizzling filled the air all the same. Ruby always liked this place. She spotted the tree that stood proudly on the hill on the other side of the town. Even from here she could see some limbs had been broken off and some kind of fabric flowing off of it. “Why would-ugh, teenagers.” Ruby groaned. Under the tree she could see a cop and another individual draped in a black hood. Now she was even more confused. An over eager fan or hater maybe? Many people around here loved Maria and her legendary status. Ruby wasted no time racing up to the vandalism, catching the raven haired officer off guard. Her emerald eyes bugged out at the sudden appearance.

“Gah! Wow, you’re faster up close. You should come with a bell.” Ruby chuckled at the statement. “I bet the grimm would love that idea.” A closer look at the tree revealed more damaged limbs and roughed up ground. Ruby turned to the cloaked figure who avoided her gaze. They were taller than Ruby expected but that’s all she could decipher. “Care to explain why you felt so compelled to ruin a memorial? Disrespecting the dead is pretty low.” She said firmly, crossing her arms for more affect.

The person hid further in their hood. Ruby waited for any possible response but there was only silence. They looked at the ground and dug their right foot into the dirt. The cop touched Ruby soldier. “He’s been pretty silent since I caught him red handed. There’s a mark on the back of the tree they spray painted. I can’t make sense of it but I was hoping you might be able to. For all I know, no gangs use that tag.” Ruby pointed star the culprit. “Don’t you dare try to run. We’re not finished young man.” He nodded. Ruby backed away slowly. There were always a few that tried running. It was as if they forgot what her semblance was.

A few steps from her and the cop told her that the dude was just gonna stay there. She finally turned around to examine the tree. “You said the back right? Gangs spray paint all the time so I might not know what….” her voice drifted into silence as she reached the other side of the trees. She had to take a few steps back to make sure she was seeing things okay. “This-This is…” words still eluded her as Ruby stared at black spray paint that perfectly made the image of a queen chess piece. Ruby could feel her face lose its color. “Cinder…” it was as if her name was a trigger for disaster. The tree suddenly was cut into by a blade that pierced the other side. Ruby was barely able to dodge the surprise attack, getting a clear view of the weapon. It was a scythe. Their culprit was holding a standard scythe that counted swinging at her. A small smirk was visible on the young man’s face as he came at her in full force.

The scythe constantly spun in his hand as he tried to swipe Ruby.The woman was done being surprised however. Ruby easily ducked and whipped out Cresent Rose. “Wanna play huh? Fine.” She hissed. Fighting first and asking questions later was something Ruby could get behind. She gripped the pole of her weapon tight and swung horizontally. The force alone caused enough pressure to push her opponent back while the blade barely scratched his torso. He had good reflexes. Ruby blitzed behind him and slashed him back before disappearing and reappearing in front of him. Ruby spun the bottom of her scythe and clipped his chin, then took a shot to thrust it forward. The sharp metal end would’ve connected to his face if an unexpected bullet didn’t hit Ruby in her arm. She turns her head to see the cop’s gun trained on her with deadly accuracy.

“What the hell are you-huh?” The emerald eyes of the cop turned pink and brown along with her hair. A familiar mischievous laughter comes from the old adversary as she twirls the gun and watches Ruby avoid the opponent in front of her. “Hey Rubes! You’re looking good; filled out quite a bit. I know your husband must like that.” She fired a few more bullets at Ruby’s feet to keep her moving as the red reaper was easily out classing the man in black, but he was nothing but persistent. He forced Ruby to jump by sweeping her feet and shoulder bashed her to the ground. Expert or not, Ruby was only so big. She quickly recovered by tumbling backwards and dashed towards Neo. For the first time in a long time, an ache more deadly than any blade pierced Ruby’s heart. Ruby couldn’t help but be bombarded with the memories of seventeen years ago.

“WHERE IS SHE!?” Ruby screamed at the smirking woman. That smirk pissed her off to no end. Not again, they’re not taking anything again. She swung Crescent Rose downward at Neo’s face, but quickly spun it sideways to shoot herself towards the right. The cloaked figure sprinted in front of her and blocked a horizontal slash that looked like it would’ve hit air, but wouldn’t. The Neo behind her shattered and the real one poked her head out from behind the man, happily surprised. “Damn, nothing gets past you anymore huh? Saw right through me.” Neo tried getting off another shot. “Still fast?” One bullet fired at close range only hit a rose petal. Instincts told Neo to push her partner out the way and duck. It was the right call. The edge of a scythe blade had been dropped and yanked backwards where Neo’s neck was. “I’m faster…”

Neo’s partner swung the end of the shaft to Neo to grab a hold of then Yanked her to safety behind him. “Phew, thanks darling. Told you she was the real deal.” Neo finally stopped smiling and glared at Ruby. “That’s What makes this next part so satisfying.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a detonator. Ruby’s body tensed up and her assault was halted. Neo’s thumb rubbed the top of the bottom rhythmically. “Guess where the bomb is?”

Ruby didn’t even flinch. “Leave the townspeople out of this or I swear-”

“Times up!” Neo hit the button and Ruby gasped. She went to dash at Neo but was hit in the side with a scythe from behind. The image in front of her shattered as she stumbled into it. An anger growl left her throat as Neo laughed. “Hahaha, kidding! This trigger does nothing.” She tossed it to the ground. “Still gullible after all these years. How are you not dead? Oh wait, others die for you.”

“Little…” Ruby grit her teeth and fired round after round at Neo. The cloaked man spun his scythe to deflect each one. He jumped forward with a downward slash but missed. Ruby spun in a tight vortex of petals that kept his feet fry the ground. She hooked his scythe with hers and yanked it out of his hands then hurled it Neo; not a shred of concern was seen as Neo leaned to the side and caught it. She turned to wink but saw Ruby behind her partner with the man on one knee and gripping the pole off Crescent Rose in an attempt to remove it from his neck before Ruby could choke him out. Neo pointed her pistol again but didn’t pull the trigger. With most of Ruby’s body behind his, it wouldn’t be a good idea to test her aim.

“Heroes take hostages now? That’s so cold”

“You would know.” Ruby pulled harder. “Must mean a lot to you if you’re not shooting. Where’s Cinder?”

“What? Am I not enough for you? Is my vengeance second rate? I thought you’d like me more after all we’ve been through.” Neo pouted.

“LAST CHANCE! OR-” Neo dropped the gun and yawned. “Or what? You’ll strangle him? That would be a terrible way to end a reunion, right Dustin?”

Just like that, Ruby felt her body go numb. “D-Dustin?” She muttered. Her grip accidentally loosened and the man ducked under the metal bar against his neck and rolled away in less than a second. The ground beneath Ruby trembled. Vines armed with thrones shot from the dirt and wrapped around her legs, waist, arms, and neck like barbed wire that pulled her down to her knees. The pain drained and felt a numbing, but Ruby could only stare at the black roses that bloomed on them slowly as the man walked towards Neo and grabbed his scythe. He looked back at Ruby who stared in disbelief, tears flooding her eyes. “D-Dustin…?” She repeated, her voice cracking. Ruby watched the man pull the hood off. Suddenly the world didn’t seem real. Her body felt ice cold with only the warmth of her tears on her face that came from silver eyes that became dim and cloudy; a perfect reflection of the ones in front her. Including the red and black hair. The difference being it was on a face that reflected not just her, but the man she married. It was only once, but Ruby never forgot that face. The face of the boy that made her a mother. The face she mourned for more times then she dared remember.

He finally spoke, “Hey mom. Glad you can make it.” The weight of cold and dense bone gripped Ruby’s shoulder. There wasn’t a nerve in her body that didn’t feel like fire and a heartbeat that didn’t sound like a boombox in her eardrums. If she was trembling before then she was now. Ruby didn’t even bother looking up. The shadow on the ground was enough. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s been quite some time since I met your mother in person. Isn’t that right?” The hand grabbed Ruby’s chin and turned it up to the right. Now Ruby had no choice but to look.

Cinder stood there looking down. Her previous outfit was ditched for dark purple leather pants and a black shirt that faintly glowed a deep fiery red like her heels. Not only was her arm different, looking fully formed and in case the bone armor grimm is known for, her eyes weren’t the same. One remained the same as before. The one that was never harmed. It was the injured one that made Ruby’s mouth run dry. The eye, it was silver as well. “Why don’t we catch up a bit? Normally I’m on a time crunch but since everyone is held up….” She turned Ruby’s head to the left and let her see what she had been missing out on. The wind around Vacou had picked up and turned a dust storm. In it, Ruby saw thousands of red eyes and the sign of fire. Alarm sirens blared seconds later.

“My gods…” Ruby gasped.

“Got to love subterranean grimm. Just have them move slow enough and a little magic to tip the weather in your advantage, then boom. Ambushed without a warning.” Cinder finally let her go sauntered over to Neo and Dustin. “Unfortunately it’s more smoke and mirrors than an actual bang. Tragedies on the scale of Beacon’s are hard to replicate. All you kids have grown up now and everywhere. It’s a pain in the ass. This event was just made to keep us uninterrupted.” Ruby tried struggling through the vines but could barely move. Every shift made her wince as they tightened. Not only that, but she actually felt weaker. They were doing more than restraining her. Cinder found amusement in the struggle. “Your son’s semblance is pretty annoying, isn’t it? Best not to move. Dustin, don’t over do it. I still want my fun.”

The pain eased and her strength was less inhibited. Ruby still couldn’t believe what was happening. She stared at her child who stared back, despondent. “Dustin, it’s me. I’m-”

He silenced her by tightening the single vine on her neck quickly. “I know exactly who you are.” Anger and vigor flooded his eyes in a glare that could only be seen as murderous. “And I have nothing to say to you.” Cinder rubbed his back. “Don’t mind him. You know how teens are, all rebellious and angry.” This situation was going so well she couldn’t help but laugh. “That being said, he’s grown into such a fine young man under my-”

“Ahem!” Neo said loudly. Cinder rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Under our guidance. He’s been quite helpful. Killing silver eyed people and learning their abilities has been far easier when he started helping out. It’s a shame, getting old that is. I used to go collecting by myself. Now he brings back the prizes for me sometimes.” Cinder rubbed the side of her face and saw Ruby shiver in shock. Their attention to each other was disrupted by a flashing light from Ruby’s pocket. The girl tried struggling again as Cinder reached for it and pulled out a scroll. Today got even surprisingly better all thanks to a home screen. “Oh well you look at that? Carmine was a person we expected to hear at least once, but I had no idea about the third one. What a handsome boy.”

Dustin’s body tensed tightly. “What…?” He muttered. Cinder tossed him the phone and sure enough, there the baby was with the rest of the family. Brand new silver eyes and all. The photo was blurred as Carmine’s name came up as the scroll rang. There was no hesitation in answering.

“Mom! Vacou’s being attacked and dad still isn’t back. Garnet is fine and no grimm are heading this way yet but-”

“CARMINE! TAKE YOUR BROTHER AND RUN!” Ruby screamed as loud as possible. Dustin hung up and looked at Cinder and she nodded. “Time for a family reunion.” She snapped her fingers and a nevermore descended from the sky for Dustin to jump on and head towards his brother and sister. Even with him gone, his vines still had a grasp on Ruby. It was weaker but the numbing pain still ran through her as she finally forced her way out of the ones around her arms and neck; air and sensation tried to fill her being again as she fell on her hands and knees. “My son, what did you do to him?” She raises her head with tears running down her face. Moving now would be stupid. Ruby had no choice but to recover.

“Me? You make it sound like I brainwashed him or abused him. No, no such thing.Granted it wasn’t my idea to keep him. The boy would’ve been dumped in a grimm pool or something if I had my way, then Neo had to step in and proposed a better idea.”

“Disguising as your nurse was far too much work to just have it end with a dead newborn. Besides, even I have my limits unlike some people” she glares the hell out of Cinder. “I can play the long game. A missing son returning to his family to erase it? That’s way more interesting don’t you think?”

Cinder circled around Ruby, watching the girl carefully as she indulged herself with explaining how a day like this could happen.“You asked me what I did to him. I did the only thing that made sense. I told the truth.” Ruby’s face softened. Her eyes scanned the ground as she tried to understand. The truth? Cinder groaned, “Boring I know, but a lie this big would be impossible. Ruby Rose, a name known by every last goddamn soul on Remnant. Between that and Dustin’s features, he’d figure out that he wasn’t ours sooner or later, so I told him exactly who he was. A child stolen by a hero's worst enemy. You should’ve seen the way he wept for you. I told him all I could. How incredible your reputation was to the masses and how you would be remembered throughout history for all time along with your friends. Surely a hero that elite would rescue their son, right?” She smirked, Cinder could see Ruby get pale from the implications.

“He...was waiting for me.” Ruby’s voice crackled and shook. A stark contrast from the laughter Cinder had. “Hahaha, oh he did more than wait! Time after time, your son tried escaping. Each attempt meant him killing grimm that I didn’t even have to influence, and each time it was up to either me or Neo to save his life. His will was quite astonishing, his mind sharp. He tried for years until one day...he actually escaped.”

“What?” Ruby wasn’t expecting Cinder to say that. “He escaped?” Cinder pulled out a scroll and nodded, “He was young too. Barely twelve if I remember. At this point I was at my wits end. I thought my choices were to cut my losses or kill him out of spite; Never did I expect him to come back with a look in his eyes I’ve never seen. The anger for his situation had changed. All because of one simple little thing.” The scroll was flipped around for Ruby to see. “Remember this day?”

Of all the things that Ruby expected, a picture of her from an old news photo wasn’t one of them. It was her holding Carmen up proudly after the girl’s first tournament. Her daughter had entered a jr competition at eight and took first place. Cinder put the scroll away. “Apparently he made it all the way to that event. Imagine the look on his face, seeing you smiling so purely with the sister he had no clue about? All that faith he put into you...and it meant nothing. Congratulations, how’s it feel to move forward? It brought him closer to me. My sweet Dustin.” Cinder and Neo fawned dramatically. Their laughter grew as Ruby’s anger rose. Her blood started to feel like it’s boiling and vision started to blur. Her eyes started glowing before flickering in and out constantly as she tried her damnedest to eradicate Cinder to no avail. A pounding in her head started forming that made her grip it. Cinder bent down and tugged hard on Ruby’s hair to stare right into her face with complete disdain. “That’s right Ruby, hate me. Hate me as much as I hate you. This isn’t about justice or preservation. Your anger vs ours. Let’s see who edges out.” Cinder backs away and blasts a wave of ice that only freezes then shatters only the vines. Crescent Rose is stabbed into the ground next to Ruby. This day was unavoidable. These feelings had been building a festering for years. Not just because of Dustin. Beacon, Pyrrha, the friends she’s hurt; the despair Cinder brought into Ruby’s life was too much and too often. Ruby had enough. She pulled herself up off the ground with her scythe. Eyes devoid of light beamed into the two pairs of glimmering evil as the clouds darkened the sky. Ruby could only think of one thing.The only thing that Cinder had thought about for ages.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

xxxx

The sounds of thunder and gun fire raged through and electrified the air as Dustin rode the nevermore. He looked back to see a concentration of wind and varying elements coming from where he left. “Looks like they’ve gotten serious. Time for me to get my party started.” He would be over Ruby’s house in a matter of minutes. Karma was finally gonna come knocking on her door. “A shame she won’t see this. Alright, time to see what my little sister I made-” a sudden pressure and force came upwards that hit like a canon. Next thing Dustin knew, the nevermore no longer had a head and was swan dive to the ground. He quickly jumped from the bird and rolled onto the sand to break his fall. Carmine watched the whole thing while cleaning grimm blood of her blade several feet away.

“I’ve never heard mom sound so panicked before. Grimm herds aren’t anything we haven’t handled before so I knew there was more to the situation; but what exactly is the more?” Carmine couldn’t make out his face from distance but the scythe on the sand and cloak were more than enough to be off putting. She stepped closer cautiously. The color of his hair and eyes immediately made her stop and jump back, placing her sword in front of her body as he stood. “Stop! Who are you?” He patted himself off and looked at his sister. Admittedly, he was caught off guard. This was already more interesting than he anticipated.

“What on Remnant possessed you to take out a grimm mid-flight? I doubt you noticed me.”

“A lone grimm going after a house outside of the kingdom when its friends are having a blast inside is pretty freaking suspicious. Now answer my question!” Her body tensed. Carmine didn’t know why but she felt as if his gaze alone might swallow her up like a pit of tar. There was no mistaking that color. His eyes looked fogged and hazy but they were definitely silver. Then there was his face. Carmine never imagined Garnet would look like grown up but this man’s face would’ve been pretty close.

“Huh, figures they never mentioned me. It was probably too shameful and humiliating to reveal such a major example of arrogance.” His words felt like venom and on the verge of being unhinged, yet maintaining a low tone of composure as he grabbed his weapon. “I think you already have a good guess on who I am, or do you need a closer look?”

Carmine saw the man vanish in the blink of an eye. She quickly rose her sword in front of her in a block that covered her entire body. A clash of metal crashed right into it and rattled her arms from the force. Now they were face to face with a similar look of intensity. “I….I don’t understand what’s going on!” Saying that this was unnerving was an understatement. Carmine has a job to do though. The longer he was with her, the further her clone was with Garnet. The only regret was splitting her sure evenly. Fighting an unknown opponent could go wrong.

“It’s simple really. You’re not the first born child of Jaune Arc and Ruby Rose. That kid got snatched by a witch.”

Carmine’s world felt like it stopped. “Cinder Fall.”

“Bingo.” A vine shot from the ground and wrapped around Carmine before flinging her. Dustin followed up with a leaping downward strike but Carmine corrected herself mid-air yo block it. “Heh, look at you…” his hand slid to the bottom of his scythe and started swiping side to side against Carmine’s defenses. Each contact made sparks fly and her arms ache from the weight of the attack. She couldn’t take it anymore and ducked under the next attack to get in close. Both opponents were no stranger to the limitations of a scythe or had to overcome them. Carmine knew he was likely to pull the entire thing back by bringing his hand to the top of the shaft, so she jumped straight up and grabbed her curved blade, Stamen, from both ends and swung it down to have it drop like a guillotine. The impact left a small crater where Dustin stood before he jumped out of the way. She had no expectations of hitting him but she needed breathing room. It was her turn on offense.

Carmine shot off three aura slashes before pursuing him. She watched closely as his scythe spun to block the attack and leaped over him to get a hit in from behind. More vines shot up and stabbed her hand before connecting. A low hiss came from her. This was obviously his semblance but knowing it’s function was hard to tell. More shot up around her in a circle. A simple spin cut them down to size easily and she unleashed a flurry of rapid attacks that clanged and bashed against his scythe when she wasn’t missing him entirely.

“Geez, maybe I overestimated. All the talk about my little sister and this is it?”

“Big talk from someone fighting a kid, and we’re not family!” Carmine swung at his left torso but was stopped dead in her tracks when he grabbed the blade with his hand. A jab to the throat made Carmine choke on her own breath as Dustin twisted her arm behind her then put her in a choke hold. Her feet barely scraped the sand as she desperately tried to breathe. Carmine could feel his breath on her ear as he whispered angrily through his teeth.

“Don’t act stupid and face the facts. It’s the least a sorry excuse for a replacement; don’t even have silver eyes like our brother.” He squeezed her wrist so tight she could feel it start to give. Stamen was dropped as she tried not to scream. “As for the age difference, three years ago I was already filling graves. What do you do? Rule over the talentless? Tournaments are useless. Just like you.”

Carmine squirmed and bit her lip till she bled. Screw the pain and his words. Weak was the last thing she was, and she was gonna prove it. “LET. ME. GOOOO!” Carmine felt a pop in her wrist as she jerked forward, hard. Her feet stomped the ground and two rose clones appeared on each side, the first grabbed her sword and drove it against Dustin’s ribs. The blow broke his hold on the original by pushing him back. The second clone grabbed his legs so he would fall backwards. It worked. Dustin’s head hit the ground and he stared up to the sky as the first clone did the guillotine drop the original did earlier. “Take this!!!!” It screamed.

Dustin hit his fist against the ground. Vines shot pierced right through the clone then swooped low to stab the other. With the last of its strength, the first clone tossed the sword to the original as she watched her clones go limp; their bodies faded as black roses bloomed the vines. Maybe it was their manner of defeat, but Carmine started to sweat. She hadn’t even realized she picked up her blade and was backing away from the man surrounded by a garden of death. A gut feeling told her that being trapped in those spelled the end.

Her semblance was info Dustin knew nothing about. To see it was genuinely surprising, but nothing he had to fear. Not with Carmine looking like a deer in headlights. “Do you know what black roses symbolize?” Carmine didn’t answer. Instead she pulled out the second part of her weapon, Pistil, and combined it with Stamen. The blade curved downward while the collapsible tactical baton connected to the hilt to make her scythe. Dustin felt a surge of excitement run through him. Another surprise from his sister. “HAHAHAHA! Oh please don’t tell me you’re about to challenge me with that?” He laughed hysterically, his calm demeanor completely shifting to nothing short of rage. He stabbed his scythe in the ground. “Rotten Rose will ruin you.”

“Rosebud hasn’t failed me yet.” Carmine got low and held on with both hands. Her right wrist aches but adrenaline and necessity demanded its use. Carmine needed all the reach she could muster. Dustin was done talking and put up his hood. Alarms, screams, explosions, even the wind blowing felt muted to Carmine. The only thing that mattered was the reaper in front of her. She was going to get through this and reject those black roses. Today wasn’t death day. Not for her. The vines shot straight at her. Carmine shredded through them like a blender by twirling Rosebud. Two more vines from each side forced her to jump straight up. She pulled a trigger on the shaft of the used to be tactical baton. A slug round recoil sent her back to the ground where a massive sweeping attack severed the vines. It wasn’t enough.

Her brief rest was interrupted by more sprouting from the ground around her. Another gunshot sent her out of the center before they all stabbed her from every side. More and more dove in and out of the ground like serpents chasing prey. Dustin stood motionless as his sister fired herself in any direction she could to avoid a strike. Occasionally she was forced to stand her ground to cut several before dodging again. She tried to hide it, but Dustin could see the fear in her eyes. He was gonna force it out of her. A wall of thorny vines walled off Carmine from back stepping again. Dozens of vines came from everywhere in the front. The fear he wanted didn’t come. Carmine grit her teeth and started slashing through them head on.

Chunks of plants flew everywhere as Carmine hacked angrily through them. “Haaaaaa!” The girl could only scream through the pain as thorns scraped her skin like a million stabs. “Just...a little...more!!!!” She refused to stop until a swing cut through to the other side. The sight of Dustin’s shocked face spurred her on. Another gunshot was sending her straight at him with Rosebud’s blade eagerly awaiting to connect with his throat. “You’re done!!!!” All her force went into swinging the blade; too much strength in fact. Dustin simply leaned back Carmine completely whiffed. Her momentum kept her body rotating. In the moment her body had turned away from him, her eyes could only see the blood stained thorns she borrowed through. Carmine’s anger subsided and was reminded of the most basic rule of fighting. Keep track of your aura. Her mistake for forgetting was an instant and excruciating pain that crossed her from each shoulder down to the opposite hip. It all had happened so fast yet time felt slow as the ground seemed to rise to meet her.

Carmine laid face down on the ground. Her back started to feel wet. Like if someone was pouring something warm on it, something thick. Tears filled her eyes seconds later when the shock of it all was met by the stinging of sand and reality.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH~”

Carmine couldn’t stop screaming in agony. Her arms did her best to lift her but her right wrist gave out. Everything was giving out. There wasn’t a muscle that wasn’t shaking in her body. There wasn’t a thought of anything anymore with the sound of creeping plants and footsteps approaching while a shadow loomed over her. The silhouette of her blood dripping off the scythe that was ready to draw more. The shaft of it flipped her battered body over for her to stare into the eyes that should’ve been preserving life; but all she saw was them asking for hers. Was this despair? Carmine never felt anything like it before. For the first time in her life she felt powerless, weak. Her tears ran down her bloody and soiled face. “Pl-Please…” she said, quivering. “ I don’t wanna die…” she shut her eyes and lost all sense of self. “I DON’T WANNA DIE!!!”

“CARMINE!!!” Multiple people cried out from a distance. Dustin turned his dead and was immediately blasted by a laser gun in the face that knocked him away. The current of electricity stunned him momentarily as he saw three more people. Two of them he had heard and learned about. The leader of team SSSN and his partner. The third was an unknown boy with bird wings that picked up Carmine while the other two stood in front of them. “Sun and Neptune. What are the odds the partners of a disbanded team are hanging out today of all days? One of you doesn’t even live on this continent.” He glared at Neptune.

The duo immediately recognized the man in front of them and gasped. No way they wouldn’t. Neptune gasped, “Is that…?”

“No way…” Sun said. He looked back at an injured Carmine then to Dustin. No doubt about it. He clapped his hands together and summoned clones. Now wasn’t the time to let his guard down. “I don’t know how you’re here but I’m not letting you go. Aero, get Carmine far away from here.”

“Not on my watch!” Dustin dashed forward immediately. Neither the clones or pro huntsman were quick enough to stop him blitzing the both of them. He reached to grab the boy holding his sister, then poof, nothing. It was like magic. Dustin blinked and they were gone. They went from right in front of him to already being in the sky, several minutes away. Whatever happened wasn’t speed. He didn’t know what that was, but it was definitely the boy’s doing. He looked back at Sun and Neptune who were charging at him in full force. Dustin clicked his teeth and sighed. Play time was over. “Two pro huntsmen like yourselves is way more than I bargained for. Especially after my other reunion, sorry.” A faint light in the distance caught his eye while planning his exit. Whatever it was had speed and was heading towards the storm over Cinder’s battle. “If I was a betting man…” Dustin used his vines to left himself into the air and grab a passing nevermore to ride, leaving Sun and Neptune in the dust.

“Damnit!” Sun yelled.

“Never mind him, let’s get back to town and help.” Neptune said, seeing the light. “Jaune’s gonna be pissed.”

xxxx

Aero was flying as fast as he could to the medical station set up. Finding Jaune or his friend would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. What he wouldn’t give to have a healing semblance right now. The blood that came from Carmine and dripped down his arms as she wept in pain was burning a memory into him he didn’t want to ever see again.

“Hang in there Carmine! You’re gonna be just fine. Your clone found my mom so don’t worry about Garnet. He’s perfectly fine.” He told her to ease whatever pain and stress he could. The way she clung close to him wasn’t inspiring any change. Carmine kept weeping and shaking.

“Hurts…” she winced. “It hurts so much.” Aero felt a lump in his throat. The boy kept flying with all his might. The tears of the strongest person he knew weighed heavily on his heart the entire flight.”

xxxx

That fight against Reaper and Maiden wasn’t fairing too much better. Neo could attest to that as she laid on the ground, aura flickering and writhing in pain. The normally dry, dusty air was soaked with pouring rain thanks to Cinder. Neo picked herself up painfully slow and could barely keep track of the hundreds of petals and embers that danced in the air over panicking villagers. Who would’ve thought Little Red would’ve grown into such a warrior? To Neo, both Cinder and Ruby might as well be freaks. She watched Crescent Rose carv through ice thicker than a goliath’s flesh and slam into Cinder. The woman went right through the already destroyed memorial tree before recovering with a tiny cyclone of lightning and fire that enveloped Ruby. That too was immediately reduced to nothing. Fortunately, Ruby looked tired. Her own aura and breath looked to be draining.

“Looks like this might be it.” Neo aimed her pistol. “Sorry Cinder, I get the kill-” the blur of bright light raced into view and then before Neo. Her eyes were witnesses to the shining white aura of a furious knight with a sword poised to strike her neck. Any time to move was erased to her as the blade was swung. The force would’ve been enough to take her head. The only thing stopping that was Dustin’s scythe between them that went unnoticed until now. Dustin’s arms went numb but his face remained stern as he stared at his father inches away who was lost for words.

“D-Dustin?” He uttered in disbelief. The hesitation left Jaune open for Dustin’s vines to grab him and throw him towards Ruby. The battling women had finally realized company had arrived

Dustin helped lift Neo to her feet. “You alright?” A pinch on the cheek and a nod told him that was a yes. Cinder landed near them while still facing Ruby and now Jaune.

“Why are you back?” She growled.

“Things got complicated, more huntsman. Time to go. We didn’t come here from a swan song.”

“Like hell! I’m just getting started.” Cinder made a bow and arrow out of lightning and took aim. “Ruby dies today.”

Not if Ruby had anything to say about it. She was ready for another exchange of blows but her anger was quelled when the sight of fresh blood was washing off of Dustin’s scythe. “Dustin, what did you do?Where’s Carmine and Garnet!?” Jaune was still shaken by who he was seeing. How was this possible? The sight of Cinder and Neo enraged him but the words Ruby said were brought to the forefront of his mind. “Carmine? Sun and Neptune should’ve-”

“I never saw Garnet.” Dustin interrupted. “As for Carmine...I’m sure she’s in shock by now. Fortunately for her my full swing wasn’t possible with how close she was. All blood, no lasting damage. Well...that’s not true. Trauma is tricky like that.” He smirked at his parent’s mortified faces. Dustin touched Cinder’s back. “Let’s go! We’ll kill them later. That wasn’t the point of this anyways.”

Ruby and Jaune tried their best to ready themselves as their son stepped forward and pointed at them. “Mark today. The peace you’ve cultivated in my absence will fall as easily as your daughter did, by my- our hands.”he declared. Ruby wasn’t even sure who she was looking at. The face she remembered was not covered in a hate and tragedy that mirrored the two by his side. Her heart couldn’t take it, it wouldn’t. Ruby was about to try and grab him when a shriek filled the air. The villagers down below were being trapped and attacked by vines. Ruby looked at Dustin. “Stop this!”

“You can either stop it yourself, or chase us. Choose fast. It’s not healthy to be wrapped too long.” The nevemore more extended its wing for them to walk on. He watched Ruby take another step before tightening his grip on screaming children. Ruby and Jaune looked in conflicting frustration before Jaune went to help them. “Ruby! I can’t do it all alone!”

Once again Ruby was asked to make the choice to chase her child or do her job. Grief filled her as she looked at him then stared at Cinder in seething hate. “Your head will roll if it’s the last thing I do.” Ruby threatened, joining Jaune to save the people. The nevermore took off and Cinder angrily aimed her bow before Neo blocked her sight with her umbrella.

“Don’t. Let’s not give them more reasons to hunt us now. It’s like Dustin said. This was just our first move. Break their world, then their lives. We waited this long. Just look at our handy work.”

Cinder watched the chaos of a small town and kingdom struggle with her grimm. To say it didn’t make her smile would be a lie. Yeah, she needed more of this. “It’s no Beacon, but it’s a damn good place to start.” Cinder looked at Dustin with more pride than she knew how to deal with. “Oh how I have high hopes for you. Do keep making your mothers proud. Dustin bowed respectively and watched the ruin along with her.

Finally a new game had started and the first move was theirs. Dustin couldn’t wait for his next one. “Here’s to a speedy recovery Carmine… Your big brother will be sure to visit.”

#rwby #rwby au #rwby rosebud #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #carmine arc rose #sun wukong #neptune vasilias #dustin arc rose #cinder fall #neo politan #aero amitola

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narrators-journal · 4 years ago

Text

May I have this dance

So! This little ditty was inspired by This song, which I highly recommend. I adore the song, so I kinda took some inspiration for some writing. I hope you enjoy~ Every monster hunter had that one type of creature they hated hunting, it came with the job. For example, with Senku, Xeno's mentee, that creature was the Nymph, they were usually peaceful, but every once in a while they'd lash out at people for disturbing their territory or them when they were trees or whatever form they took, and Senku hated having to find which tree they were. For Xeno, he absolutely despised hunting vampires. Vampires were a hassle for the grumpy man to deal with. They were commonly hard to find in the populace, and even harder to lure out without drawing his blood and hoping the creature wasn't too wary. On top of that, Vampires commonly had some form of inhuman strength, which put the already somewhat weak hunter at a major disadvantage. That wasn’t even mentioning their ability to heal. Nevertheless, when he got called out on jobs to deal with his least favorite monster, he went out and dealt with them in some way and that was the extent of his confrontations with them. However, that pattern was broken one night when he wasn't even on a hunt for a blood sucker. In fact, the hunter wasn't even out on a hunt. He was simply walking home from the store one day while his apprentice was out on a solo job, he was carrying bags of food and drinks, not his usual backpack full of monster hunting equipment. That wasn't to say Xeno had nothing on him, he always had at least a stake on him to ward off any ballsy creatures wanting to take any sort of nibble, but he was in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, not even out of his hard-bottomed-slippers, he obviously wasn't out looking for any inhuman troublemakers. That didn't stop the nagging feeling of being watched from washing over the casually dressed man while he walked down the quiet, street, "Whoever or whatever you are, give it up, I know you're there." he called, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the increasingly dark sidewalk behind him, but no one was there that he could see, but he could still feel their eyes on him, "I'll only warn you once, I'm a trained monster hunter, so if you think you can just convince me you aren't there and surprise me, you're gonna fail." He warned, once again to no reply. The snowy haired man simply rolled his dark eyes and turned back to continue down the sidewalk, but almost as soon as he did, he almost ran right into someone, making him stumble back briefly before looking up at the new person with a glare. The new person on the street was a tall man, somewhat broad and well-built, with fair skin and pale, nearly white, blonde hair. However, what caught his attention most, was the man's captivating, winter-blue eyes. They were honestly gorgeous, a captivating blue that made Xeno's head swim so much that it took him a moment to realize the man had spoken, "Excuse me?" he asked, blinking rapidly for a moment to snap himself out of the spell and focus his thoughts, "I asked why you were out here, doll." The man asked with a coy smirk on his dark-red-painted lips, where a currently-unlit-cigarette hung casually, but the hunter tried to not focus on the stranger's lips, instead, just crossing his arms to draw attention to the rustling plastic bag on his wrist. The stranger saw his shopping and snorted, "Ah, out buying dinner? How ironic, so am I," The man's suggestive, almost predatory purr sent a bolt of energy through the white haired hunter, but he repressed a shudder or anything that would give away the effect the tall, handsome man had on him, opting instead for eyeing the off stranger. "That's pretty funny, well, the shop is down the street and around the corner," he informed him, not outright confronting him about his mortality status, but both of them knew the answer. Could be a sex demon, judging from the heightened attractiveness and trance I was just under. He mused, but he saw none of the tell-tale signs that the man was a legitimate demon of any sort, more likely he's a damned vampire though. Which WOULD just be my luck. The thought annoyed him, but he didn't say anything more to the oddball, just stepping around the tall monster to continue down the eerie sidewalk towards home. He got a few steps away when he smelled smoke and his ears picked up on the sound of boots hitting pavement, but not fading into the distance, instead they followed him until he finally stopped again and turned to glare at the stranger still following him. "Alright, this little game or whatever you're doing has lost all humor. Fuck off, before I am forced to defend myself." he threatened, his free hand going to his pocket for the extendable metal stake he kept on him at all times, but all his warning seemed to do was amuse the smoking monster. "Defend yourself? That's a new one for me," he hummed nonchalantly, breathing out another puff of smoke from his cigarette before continuing with blatant interest, "Most of my dinners aren't this aggressive," That set the hunter's teeth on edge for a moment, making him snarl at the monster, "I'm not your fucking dinner," he spat, "And what exactly did you expect me to do? Cower and run?" The vampire shrugged at his question, "Usually, my food does tend to cower and run, so I am used to that," he hummed, but his nonchalance was broken when the small man lunged at him and stabbed his metal stake into his side. After his attack, Xeno jumped back to where he'd dropped his shopping, scooping it up and standing up properly while his companion hissed and laughed tightly, "Oh you really are a feisty one!" the vampire hummed, pulling out the stake and grinning wolfishly, seeming to get some sort of sick enjoyment out of Xeno fighting against him so much or the pain of his slowly healing stab wound. It honestly unnerved the hunter, but he hid it, simply preparing to grab a second stake while keeping his eyes glued to the creature in front of him, who simply tapped the ashes from his cigarette and staunched the bleeding until he’d mended enough to leave it be while he looked Xeno over and thought, "y'know what? Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I'll admit, I was being a bit aggressive, you were a bit aggressive in return. We're even now, so let's move past that and start over. Hi, my name is Stan, what's yours?" They stood there for a long, tense moment. The handsome stranger, Stan, watching Xeno with intrigue in his icy eyes, while the human scanned his expression for any hint of malicious intent or danger behind his words, but if he had any, it was well masked. Nevertheless, he stayed on edge, muscles tensed to dodge or attack if needed, using all of the possibly helpful knowledge he'd gotten from his time at college to attempt to not only sniff out any of the predator's plots, but also formulate an escape plan of his own. If he got attacked, he only had one weapon left to defend himself with, and he was no real match for the taller, stronger, inhuman blonde that looked down at him with a growing grin and a small stream of smoke spilling out of his lipstick'd lips every once in a while. "No answer, huh? All out of vitriol, doll?" Xeno knew he shouldn't respond to the blood sucker, but the nickname hit a confusing cord, some humiliating mix of childish assumptions and contrasting offense, and the thought of Stan ramping up the embarrassing nicknames out of some sadistic enjoyment of messing with his food honestly scared the hunter more than the thought of letting out personal information in the moment. "Quit callin' me fuckin' doll!" He snapped, barring his blunt teeth at the taller male, "Well, I don't have any other name for you!" was the other's retort, "If you don't like my pet names, tell me yours." he continued, and the gleam in his eyes told Xeno that he already knew he had him trapped by the pride, so he just gave in and played along, "My name's Xeno, now quit calling me doll," "Alright, sweetheart," Stan laughed as the college graduate reached for his second stake again, glaring daggers at the tall vampire until he put his hands up in mock-surrender, "Okay! Fine, fine, how about one last compromise? To end this little squabble and get some mutual fun out if." The only reply he got was narrowed eyes and a long stretch of silence. "Fine. I'll compromise." The hunter finally relented after a long moment of debate, "But only because I fucking hate having to fight vampires." he clarified swiftly, getting an eye roll, "Just admit you're curious, doll,” "just state the fucking compromise." Xeno snapped, feeling his pale cheeks begin to burn slightly, inwardly grateful for the darkness while Stan rolled his eyes again, "Look, we've got a small conflict of interest." He stated, "You don't want to be my dinner, but I'm now far too interested in you to just turn my back on this chance to feed on a cute, and as you said, trained monster hunter. So! I want to offer a fun little game," The dark-eyed hunter relaxed only a little at the mention of a game, but he didn't give him much leeway, so Stan continued, "It's simply tag. With the simple twist that if I catch you, I get to do whatever I want with you," Xeno narrowed his eyes and felt his cheeks begin to burn again, the pretty vampire was not trying to hide the flirtatious implication in his words, but asking about the wording felt like he was revealing information unnecessarily. "I'm guessing that if I get home before you catch me, my prize is that i'm not eaten?" The predator nodded, making the smaller male huff, watching him crush out his cigarette for a fresh one while he mulled his 'compromise' over. This is a really dumb idea, he told himself, but then, that morbidly curious voice that loved to rear its ugly head to give him stupid ideas and questions to obsess over for days at a time spoke, but it would be a wonderful chance to get a glimpse into the instincts, abilities, and hunting method of a vampire. It could undoubtedly give vital information for later. That was all it took, Xeno knew he was doomed to yet another bad life choice, so he at least lessened the blow by whipping up some on-the-fly math and plotting. "Fine. Only if I get a five minute head start though." Once he got an approving nod from the vampire, the monster hunter turned on his heel and took off, his shopping abandoned to either make it home or be torn from the bag, he didn't care. Knowing his stamina wasn't the best, Xeno focused on pacing himself and trying to get as far away from his pursuer as he could in his small window of time, Judging by his playful attitude so far, he might not jump right to catching me. He's likely to toy with me like a cat would, give chase and tire me out before pouncing, He reasoned as he turned the corner onto a street just a medium sprint away from his home, That, paired with the fact that my earlier attack's wound won't heal for another seven minutes after this head start, should buy me just enough time to make it home. So long as I don't trip, I can get away from him. He told himself, using his logic and reasoning to keep himself calm when he finally heard Stanley giving chase. His five minutes were up. He couldn't exactly hear the vampire as much as he could sense him. Relying almost solely on his years of experience in killing and confronting his kind, the college graduate could estimate where the blood sucker would be and how far behind he'd stay. For the moment. And while it was helpful that his assumption seemed to be right, the monster would play with him first, the simple fact that he was being hunted messed with his nerves a bit. Nonetheless, he pressed on. Just as his fence-less backyard was in view though, he felt his pursuer finally closing in. At that point he couldn't hear Stan's foot steps even slightly over his thundering heart beat drowning other noises out. But, Xeno knew he had another three minutes of running in himself, and the blood sucker was sure to recognize the signs of that. So, the snow-haired man had to turn to his first drastic plan. See, if he fully sprinted and took off on the last of his stamina and pure prey-instincts, he could make it home in four minutes, which was still a bit too far, but he didn't have much other choice to avoid being eaten. so, before anymore of his energy was burned, the hunter tapped into his reserves and took off in a full sprint. On the grace of the vampire's surprise and his years of outrunning high school bullies, Xeno managed to make it to his yard. However, Stan was right behind him. So, without thinking of anything but survival, Xeno made one final drastic move and launched himself through the sliding glass door of his back patio. He crumpled bonelessly to his kitchen floor as soon as his feet hit the tile, but he didn't stop himself. Not even when the shards of glass he landed on and slid across slashed at his skin and clothes, because he knew that without verbal permission, his predator couldn't enter the house. So, Xeno let himself smile at the glowing ice-colored eyes of said predator as he loomed in his doorway, forbidden from even reaching out to grab the tantalizingly close piece of prey "Looks like you lose, Stanley," Xeno taunted after catching his breath a bit, but all the blonde did was smile, his eyes alight with the thrill of the chase and an unnerving giddiness, "I never said when the game would end, Xeno."

#stano #dr stone #drst #monster au #inspired by a song #vampire!Stan #monster hunter!Xeno #seriously #the song is so good

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years ago

Text

Helping Hands - Chapter 6

Series Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: Haley experiences New York City for the first time, and the contents of the champagne are revealed.

Chapter Warnings: References of past abuse.

A/N: Thank you all for being patient with me! Work has honestly kicked my ass these past few weeks, but I’m getting back into it, and hopefully my body will be kinder to me in the future.

“Your cheeseburger with french fries, and pancakes and bacon for you. Can I get you anything else?”

Haley was too busy ogling the food in front of her to answer, inhaling the sweet and savory aroma of fried goodness that made her mouth water at the deliciousness it promised. Loki must have said something in response while she was lost in the grumbling of her stomach, because the waitress walked away.

“Does it look satisfactory?” Loki asked quietly, drawing her attention from the golden fries in front of her to his face. “If it isn’t to your liking, you can order something else.”

She shifted on the squeaky faded plastic seat of their booth to lean forward over the table, gripping the massive burger in her hands. Could her jaw even open wide enough for that? With a bit of careful maneuvering, it could. It took everything in her not to moan at the dance of salt and fat and crisp fresh vegetables over her tongue. Not wanting to waste a moment, she took a bite of a fry as soon as she swallowed the first, giving Loki a thumbs up and the best smile she could muster while chewing.

When Loki had caught her staring longingly out the windows earlier that day, he had declared that he was taking her out to see the city. She had been cooped up for far too long and would be safe with him as an escort. It took some convincing, Haley and Tony both were on edge after the nearly-successful attack at the party a few nights prior, but the call to the city was too plain on her face. Tony relented, but not before implanting a tracker the size of a grain of rice into her bicep. It stung a bit, but sitting in a booth in a diner with Loki, smelling cooking oil and burnt coffee and watching people go about their busy day so close up, she decided it was worth it.

And then the pancakes. Drenched in sticky sweet syrup and fed to her from Loki’s fork and paired with greasy bacon, she was grateful for his stubborn insistence. It was nice, to feel normal, just enjoying lunch out with a friend. There was a first for everything, and this wouldn’t be the last.

“What else would you like to experience, little one?” Loki slipped Haley’s hand into the crook of his elbow once they were finished and he had paid, sticking close to the exterior of the building so as not to get in the way of passing pedestrians.

But their positioning seemed unnecessary given the wide circle of personal space left untouched around them. Those that took a moment to look at the imposing man dressed in all black to match his hair, which was pulled back to better emphasize the razor’s edge of his jawline and cheekbones, quickly skirted around the pair. She watched them curiously for a second, puzzled at the frightened, nervous, and in one case, downright angry looks he garnered. He’d been nothing but kind and protective of her since they’d met. What had he done before then?

A faint breeze blew through from the alley to their left and she crinkled her nose at the foul odor of rotting garbage. “Maybe somewhere nicer smelling?”

He chuckled low in his throat and turned them down the street, leading her along at a slow, leisurely pace that allowed her plenty of time to take in all that New York City had to offer. “I know just the place.”

The sun was warm on her skin as she and Loki stood in the middle of a vast green park - Central Park, Loki had informed her - watching ducks paddle about happily in a pond. The breeze, scented with flowers and dry earth, ruffled the unruly pieces of hair sticking up from her head. She leaned into Loki’s side from her place on his arm. The physical contact sated a deep-seated ache in her bones she hadn’t known existed. It was a luxury that had been denied her for most of her life, and she was keen on making up for lost time. She’d never thought that she would have such an opportunity. To just exist in a moment of calm with someone who she truly cared about and who held the same feelings for her.

“Would you like to feed them?” Loki’s quiet request broke her from her reverie.

“We can do that?” she asked, a tinge of hope liting her voice. She bounced on her toes with a smile stretching from ear to ear, all directed his smug grin.

“It pays to be prepared for all possibilities.” He held out his hand in front of them, close to their bodies, and a small container of oats appeared in his palm. “Go on, then.”

Happiness bubbled up within her and she grabbed the oats from his outstretched hand to run down to the bank. The only thing that kept her from tumbling into the water was Loki’s firm hold on her waist, steadying her as she leaned out as far as she could to toss the food into the water. The ducks flocked to the space in front of her to quack loudly for more treats. Once the supply was finished she turned in Loki’s hands to ask him for more, stopping when she caught the fondness that had softened his gaze considerably.

It tugged at her heart in ways she hadn’t experienced before. Butterflies fluttered low in her tummy and warmth spread throughout her limbs to the drum of her heartbeat that echoed in her ears. The sunlight caught his hair as it tumbled over his shoulders to reveal pieces that appeared almost blue at the tilt of his head. Hesitantly, she reached up, brushing a stray lock back that had fallen over one of his eyes to hide the brilliant green from her searching gaze. He remained still as the statue that he resembled beneath her hand, the taut muscles of his torso unyielding to her grounding touch.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, the thought somehow slipping through the filters in her brain, as if the knowledge was so true in her soul it couldn’t be helped.

Loki stiffened and looked out at the pond over her shoulder with his lips pressed tightly together. “I am not.”

She reached up with the hand not centered on his chest, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back down to her. Written in the draw of his brows and the set of his jaw was such a bare vulnerability that panged in her aching heart. “You are. The inside of you, the good and kind man, alien, whatever. It shines through. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“That list is not the lengthiest,” he countered.

She shifted her grasp from his jaw to the ends of his hair, tugging just enough that it coaxed a smile onto his face. “Hush and accept the compliment.”

Loki carefully pulled her flush against him with the wrap of his arms around her waist and shoulders to splay the fingers of one hand in her hair. She curled into him, tucked beneath his chin, closing her eyes against the press of his smooth shirt into her cheek. It was easy to lose herself in the rhythmic breaths that pushed his chest against her. If allowed, she’d spend forever in his comforting hold, scented with spice and warmth and something uniquely Loki that she couldn’t name but would be able to identify anywhere. It didn’t quiet the rolling energy in her tummy, if anything it made it louder, but she found that the rub of her fingers over his back was a suitable outlet for it.

And then, just when she pulled away to look up to him, someone barrelled into them, knocking her from his hold. Pain flashed on her side where she'd been hit, but thankfully Loki's fast reflexes kept them both from tumbling into the water.

"Watch where you tread, simpleton!" Loki shouted even as he carefully righted her and checked her dirtied knees for injury.

The man just waved at the headphones in his ears, as if that voided any use of sight he had, before running away.

"Wait here," he instructed, smoothing a hand down her arm even as he glared at their attacker. "I must have a word with him."

She quickly snagged his hand and laced their fingers together, stopping his wrathful strides before they could begin. "I'm okay. It was an accident. Let's go for a walk before we head back?"

It was a long walk back to Stark Tower, especially with a stop for ice cream, but she was happily licking away at the cone Loki had purchased for her when they stepped into the blissfully air-conditioned lobby. She was taking care of a drip that had rolled down her thumb when Loki cleared his throat, pulling her attention from the melting sweet treat to Tony standing in front of them.

“We figured out what was in the booze.”

By the time they had all hurried up to his lab, her appetite had vanished. She dumped the half-eaten cone in the trash as she and Loki followed Tony through his maze of whirring machines and flashing gadgets to his office located through a door at the back of the room. This office was clearly not shown to guests, each flat surface covered in paperwork, bits of machinery in disrepair, and quite a few books littered with colorful tabs among their many pages. He pushed a good deal of it to the side of his desk with a forced exhale through his nose, turning around the monitor of his computer so that it faced where they stood in front of him.

What resembled a swirling ladder spun in front of the screen, as well as quite a few graphs and a scattering of scanned handwritten notes. “So, what were they trying to do?”

Tony pulled his yellow-tinted glasses from his face, chewing on the earpiece for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest. “Your body has a very high level of platelets, white blood cells, and a certain protein all to help you heal the wounds that you take on. That’s also the reason why you rarely ever get sick, correct?”

Intimidated by the show of knowledge, Haley nodded silently. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been sick, and all had happened when she was recovering from healing a particularly gruesome and intensive wound.

“We added what we found in the champagne to the sample of blood you gave us, and it rapidly killed off the majority of the extra good bits inside of you.”

“How rapidly?” Loki asked, stern at her side, glaring at the screen as if he understood the readings and wanted nothing more than to wipe them from existence.

Tony sniffed and shook his head back and forth. “From our tests, it looks to be dependent on the dosage of the serum we found. Anywhere from one day to several weeks, judging by our readings and the data FRIDAY ran.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t fully grasp what they were saying, and the effort of remaining standing while trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that the two brilliant men already had was too great. She sank into the wrapper covered chair in front of her, smoothing her sweaty hands down her thighs. “I don’t understand.”

Tony knelt down in front of her to meet her eyes that had fallen to the floor. “You wouldn’t have superhuman healing abilities anymore. As long as you didn’t get sick, you wouldn’t even know that anything was different until you tried to heal someone and took longer than normal to stitch yourself back together. And if that injury was something like what happened to Nat the other day?”

Two hands, heavy and strong and large, settled on her shoulders to match the weight that threatened to crush her chest. “She would die,” Loki growled.

“She would die.”

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme @hellethil @myraiswack

Helping Hands taglist: @kneel-before-queen-loki @alexakeyloveloki @from-hel-i-with-love @cleocc @cateyes315 @coldbookworm @rjohnson1280 @bambi-butt @skiddleskaddle @lokis-high-priestess @ilovetardis @midgardian-mistress @lisaspageofstuff @kathrynwynterbourne @bluestaratsunrise

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @snoopy3000 @silverswordthekilljoy @villainousshakespeare

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x OFC #loki fluff #loki angst #marvel fanfic #protective!loki #protective loki #helping hands #hopelesswrites

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gothfoxx · 5 years ago

Note

Here's a prompt for you. How about Aizawa finding one of Izukus analysis notebooks and seeing how accurate and amazing (terrifying) Izuku's analysis is. (bonus if Aizawa reads the notes on him.) 10/10 proud dad.

Aizawa had been a teacher for a few years before he got his problem class, and his problem child. So when he saw said problem child writing in a notebook during the first week of school he thought nothing of it other than the kid was committed to school. Aizawa had had students like that before who needed to write down their thoughts before they’d forget and with Midoriya’s penchant for mumbling to himself it was no wonder. It became normal to see the kid nose deep in a notebook writing or sketching.

When Midoriya brought the book out during a guest lecture Aizawa was a little annoyed that the kid wasn’t paying attention. That was until the boy raised his hand and asked some very interesting and in-depth questions. Aizawa was impressed and then assumed that the writing was a form of thought organization more than for memory, Mic had to do that sometimes when his ADD was getting in the way. He decided to buy a few books to keep in his desk should the kid need one, it would be a shame if the kid couldn’t cope during class and lost focus.

During lunch one day Aizawa asked Yagi if he knew about the notebook Midoriya carried around. The other hero laughed when he heard the question, “Oh that. Well you see the boy is a huge hero fan. He had one on him when I first bumped into him during a villain attack in the city.” And that explains why Midoriya and the old man seemed to know each other at the beginning of the year. “I signed it too, you should have seen his face. I’m glad we crossed paths that day.” Yagi finished, he seemed to be reminiscing about the fated meeting. Aizawa thanked him quietly and left wondering what kind of stuff the kid would have to write for All Might of all people to consider him a huge fan.

He finally got a chance to see for himself what was in one of the notebooks, Midoriya had started a new one that was the same blue as the gym uniforms. There was another guest lecture but this time it wasn’t in the classroom but out on one of the training fields. Ms Marble, the durable hero, had volunteered to help demonstrate the kind of martial art she used for hand to hand. When she asked for a helper Midoriya’s hand went up like a bolt and his eyes lit up like a toddler with free rang of a toy store, the powdery white heroine giggled and called the greenett over. Giddy about being picked Midoriya excitedly handed his home room teacher the notebook he had been writing in earlier and rushed over to be the ‘helper’. Aizawa would never admit that the excitement radiating off of Midoriya was adorable but no sain person would have asked.

Curiosity got the better of him and while the greenett was busy Aizawa thumbed through the first few pages. He hadn’t been expecting what he found so when he realized what the book was he flipped back to the first page and began reading more carefully. Inside were the observations on a third of his student’s quirks, strengths-weaknesses-possible further training-psych evaluations-costume improvements. The amount of raw thoughts and data that was written down between the detailed pages reminded Aizawa of being in Nezu’s class when he was a student. The teacher, now principal, had the habit of going on tangents when something gained his interest. Aizawa felt a shiver run up his spine at the memory of those improv lectures.

He was about to close the book when he saw his hero name mixed into the ramblings of one of the data pages. Aizawa leafed to the next profile page. Looking back at him was a sketch of himself in his hero uniform, his goggles resting on top of his head. He shouldn’t read it, he was already nervous about the implications of these notes but each one of the profiles before had been insightful too.

Aizawa Shota

Hero name: Eraserhead

Status: Teacher-U.A., Underground

Strengths: fast, quiet, observant, proficient in hand to hand, can use weapons, can sleep anywhere

Weaknesses: Dry eye, Injuries to eyes or occipital lobe, children, cats

Training: quirk is dependent on both eyes so tracing to try and make it effective with one would be beneficial for when the dry eye acts up, learning to apply stage makeup and prosthetics for undercover work (see crawler entry), a long rang weapon that doesn’t tether him to the enemy

Thinking: depression?, paranoia?, ptsd, hyper logical(Spock-ish), codependency with Mic and Midnight. If one used Midnight or Mic they would have sway over Eraserhead. Same for the children in his care. He acts like he doesn’t care but he is Hypervigilant and goes out of his way to make sure his people are taken care of even at the cost of his own life. (USJ, chocolate incident, extra supplies)

Costume: less baggy so it can’t be grabbed as easy, tie up or cut hair to remove tell, bracers for joints

Extra: He uses the excuse of ruses when he decides against what he said before. He advocates for kids with less or non combative quirks to get into the hero courses. Believes that people can change and gives second chances. Cares, I saw him feeding the cats that live in the woods behind the school. Cares, when Hagakure had cramps and couldn’t do hero studies he sat with her in the infirmary and bought her a chocolate bar. Cares, Mineta says that Aizawa threatened to expell the perv if he catches him again (make sure he catches perv). He cares, he bought extra notebooks after he started watching me, he noticed and didn’t get made! He cares, once Todoroki feels safe enough I’ll convince him to tell Aizawa what happened.

The extras spilled over to the next page with a drawing of the cats that trust Aizawa enough to let him feed them. The normally in control man felt a burning in his eyes that meant if he could he would be crying. The kid wrote like someone showing him or others kindness was a foreign concept and that normally his writing would get him in trouble. The more Aizawa looked at it and the pages of free thought before it the more he saw a danger. This kid, his kid, hadn’t been allowed to make connections with those around him and had started writing about them to feel less isolated. If something had happened to push his kid there was a real possibility that Midoriya would have either shut down or cracked. Midoriya could have become a villain.

Looking up at the lesson going on, no one privy to the crisis happening in his head, Aizawa watched Midoriya get flung onto the mat laughing and asking to see the move again. The kid was made of strong stuff, stronger than his quirk and stronger than his tolerance for pain. This kid had survived something that left him feeling alone and scared enough that he feared writing would be punished! It showed a lot of trust the he had given Aizawa his notes, had trusted his teacher with a part of himself. Aizawa closed the book and watched the rest of the lesson thinking about how he could encourage his kid without scaring him off like a cat that had been hurt before. How was he going to support this analytical genius.....? He’d also have to figure out that part about Todoroki too, that was concerning too, but he would have to wait until one or both of the boys felt safe enough to talk alone with him.

The lesson finished up while Aizawa was still in his own thoughts. “Sensei? Sorry about dumping my things on you, that was very rude and short sighted of me.” The greenett apologized with a small bow. The kid seemed more embarrassed then leaving a notebook should envoke. “It’s fine problem child, not like I was busy anyway. You know you have a real talent?” That made the kid sputter and blush further. “No no it’s just a silly hobby from when I was a kid, it’s basically habit now! It’s nothing as special as a talent!” The kid tried to argue but it wasn’t from being humble, now that Aizawa was listening for it he could hear the plea of the attention to stop, for the spotlight to be taken off of him...out of fear. “Whatever you say kid, but I think it show promise in Criminal Analysis. If you’re interested I could see if the principal would take you on as a personal intern.” He offered, hoping the kid would take it. Nezu would be better with a traumatized kid, could relate with them better than he did adults.

The kid just nodded and tentatively reached for the book, Aizawa slowly met the kid halfway so Midoriya didn’t have to get to close. He would be changing his behavior around the kid, the kid would notice of course but he hoped the kid saw it for what it was. An acknowledgment. “Come on Midoriya, classes are over go get changed so we can go.” Aizawa stayed as he turned to head back to the main campus. “We, Sensei?” The kid didn’t miss anything huh, “Yeah, you took being Ms Marble’s punching bag like a pro so you deserve a treat. How does frozen mochi sound?” The concern and confusion on the kid’s face washed away and was replaced with relief and then a bright smile. “Thank you Sensei, I’ll be quick!” And with a bolt of green light the boy was headed for the locker room. “No problem champ.” Aizawa snorts a laugh at the empty air, well at least the kid felt safe enough to accept food from him. At least they weren’t at square one, he could help this kid. He WOULD help his kid.

Thanks for this one I love when Izuku gets the recognition he deserves!!!

#foxx writes #mha #bnha #mha midoriya #midoriya izuku #dadzawa #boku no hero academia #midoriyas notebooks #i keep including icecream #anon #prompt

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that-one-girl-behind-you · 5 years ago

Text

Illicio 3/?

Part 2

“We’ll get it out,” he says. Jon doesn’t doubt him, but he also doesn’t know exactly what to expect, and he definitely doesn’t want Melanie dead or- or worse.

“I need to get Basira,” is all Jon says before climbing to his feet and hurrying out the door.

III

Jon Knows the door to his office will open about a second before it does, but he still flinches a little when Gerry barges in and slams it closed behind him.

“I thought you’d left for the day,” Jon smiles a little as Gerry drops heavily on one of the chairs before his desk. “You’re in a mood huh?”

“I don’t like your Martin,” Gerry says, crossing his arms over his chest. The eyes on his elbows look at Jon as his face grows hot.

“Please don’t call him that,” Jon mumbles. Gerry’s real eyes are also fixed to his face, and Jon only grows more flustered at that.

“Met him just now at the break room. He’s got a good bite- are you sure this is the guy that spent two weeks hiding from Prentiss?"

"Very,” Jon says dryly. It’s still a sore spot for him; he should have known that wasn’t Martin, he should have-

“You could do better.” Gerry’s still frowning something awful, and Jon can’t help the tired chuckle that escapes his lips. “What?”

“I really couldn’t.”

“Oh come on!” Gerry shakes his head. “Of course you’d think that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jon frowns, but Gerry only rolls his eyes and looks to the side, the chair’s front legs lifting off the floor as he leans back on it. After a few more minutes of silence, Jon resigns himself to spending an undetermined amount of time with a grown man sulking, and goes back to finishing his emails.

Jon’s not too used to being quiet around Gerry, probably because when Gerry seeks him up it’s because he needs Jon to feed. The silence feels odd, and Jon finds himself stealing glances across the desk from time to time.

Gerry looks like a statue, completely still except for the ring around his lower lip that periodically shifts against the flesh, glinting almost hypnotically under the cold lights of the office.

“He used to- he was always looking after me, you know?” Jon doesn’t really know why he’s telling Gerry this, other than he needs him to understand that Martin is so much more than what the Lonely is making of him. Gerry’s teeth flash into view as they bite and pull the silver ring. “He went through the trouble of getting some of Prentiss’ ashes, so I’d feel… safe.”

“Hm.” The ring flips a little more aggressively, Gerry’s lip pushed pursed and pressed under a slightly chipped -from a mosh pit when Gerry was sixteen, the Eye informs helpfully- front tooth.

“And he was always making sure I had something to eat and that I took breaks even when-” his voice falters a little, and licks his bottom lip in a thoughtless mimicking of Gerry’s movements, “-even when I was acting like a tool and stalking them all because I was sure they were trying to kill- Gerry!” Jon stops abruptly, when an index and middle finger each lay on the sides of Gerry’s bottom lip and his tongue flicks between them in a very suggestive way.

Gerry’s only response is a loud bark of laughter, and if Jon’s face was warm before when talking about Martin, now it’s positively boiling.

“W- are you twelve years old?” Jon stutters out, feeling the keen burn of embarrassment in his stomach. Gerry, mouth is curled in a devilish smirk he remembers from when Tim used to joke around and tease him, and the corners of his eyes are crinkled in amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You were just so focused,” Gerry cackles, and the chair’s front legs land again with a heavy thud. “It’s ok. I still don’t like him, but I’m not going to try to convince you. I’ll just keep an eye on him.”

“…I’ve come to learn stalking people doesn’t bring great results, but suit yourself,” Jon grunts, focusing on his computer screen again with a dark frown.

The chair creaks, and Gerry’s eyes peek over the edge of the laptop’s screen. Jon scowls, and Gerry pushes the laptop closed with a hand, his chin resting comfortably on the other.

“It’s rude to ignore your presents, Jon. The Eye might start to think you didn’t even want me back.” Gerry’s still sporting that infuriating smirk, and Jon narrows his eyes.

“Personally, I’m starting to think you’re more of a punishment, Gerard.” It’s too hot in the office; it wasn’t so hot before. Jon stands up to make sure the radiator is turned on, and grabs the box of real statements from the shelf on his way back. “Now, I have work to do, unless you want to keep distracting me.”

Gerry lifts his hands in surrender, and Jon rolls his eyes. It’s still too hot in the office, but a statement should make him feel better. A tape recorder clicks on in one of his desk drawers.

“Alright then. Statement of Sergeant Terrence Simpson, regarding an outbreak of violence in the crofting community of Lancraig, Ross-shire…”

He does in fact feel better after reading it, at least in a physical sense. In all others thought, it's… an absolute downer.

“Slaughter is nasty,” Gerry offers, and Jon almost jumps on his seat. He was so focused on the statement he completely forgot Gerry was there. He’s made himself at home with his legs on the second chair and his arms behind his head. “Normally the Fears go one on one, but you get a single wielder into the mix and suddenly you have tens of dead or injured.”

“Yes… honestly I’m very surprised Melanie has kept it under control this time,” Jon nods. Gerry’s head whips towards him, and he gets his feet off the chair. Jon pays him no mind, following his train of thought instead, “with that bullet still in her leg, pumping her up with violence and- w- did I read that somewhere?"

Gerry leans across the desk. Jon can hear the static now, but he keeps his eyes fixed on Gerry’s as the man gives him an encouraging nod.

"Ride it,” Gerry whispers, “let me hear it.”

“W- well yes. The- the bullet. From her trip to India.” It’s much easier to let the Knowledge out when he’s telling it to someone else. “It didn’t show in the scans, in any of them, but it’s still there. Just above the tibia and getting infected-”

Gerry nods. His entire demeanor has changed, Jon notices. His brow is furrowed, his shoulders tense. This is most definitely not the man that teased Jon into a flustering mess just an hour ago.

“We’ll get it out,” he says. Jon doesn’t doubt him, but he also doesn’t know exactly what to expect, and he definitely doesn’t want Melanie dead or- or worse.

“I need to get Basira,” is all Jon says before climbing to his feet and hurrying out the door.

—-

Melanie’s sleeping. Basira knows the cocktail she has every night is enough that she won’t hear them unless they’re deliberately loud, but she still worries. Melanie’s dangerous under the best circumstances, and Basira can’t tell she’s too keen on her waking up and finding Basira looming over her with Jon and Gerard Keay of all people.

“The guy said you’d need to hit the right nerve or it won’t work,” Basira hands over the syringe and takes a step back. “You know much about-”

“Here,” and he points to a spot on her leg that looks perfectly unremarkable to Basira.

She arches an eyebrow. “You sure?” she asks, then when he nods, “ok, go for it then.”

“Right,” Jon takes a deep breath, and leans over Melanie’s limp form. Basira cringes a little; Melanie’s her friend, but-

“Pray the injection doesn’t wake her-”

“Yes thank you, Basira-” Jon’s increasingly annoyed voice is cut off when Keay slaps a hand down over his mouth.

“If the injection doesn’t wake her up, you will. Just poke her,” the man says in a hoarse, tense whisper. Basira blinks in surprise when Jon lifts a hand to pull Keay’s hand from his mouth but doesn’t actually push it away.

“… Okay,” is all Jon says before he pushes the needle into Melanie’s leg in a single move that seems almost practiced in its certainty. Keay waits only as long as it takes for him to slip the needle out again to pull Jon back. “Now… now we wait.”

“You better be right about this,” Basira says as she sits down with her back against the wall.

Jon looks at her with a pained grimace, like he wants to smile but knows she doesn’t want to see it. “I am.”

He and his shadow sit against the wall across Basira, and she takes the opportunity to watch them. Jon’s sitting partly turned towards Melanie, which leaves his back half exposed to Gerard Keay, and he doesn’t seem too worried about that.

Basira somehow doubts Jon had an easy time being touched even before the multiple kidnappings and attempted murder, so this has probably got something to do with the Eye, making him feel like he’s safe in Keay’s presence so he grows even more distant from other humans.

She’s been… trying. She greets him back when he comes into the Archives, waves goodbye while trying to ignore the boiling jealousy that he gets to go home still. She wasn’t lying to Melanie; once upon a time, she liked Jon.

But Basira still can’t forgive him for surviving when Daisy didn’t.

Every time she sees him it feels like he’s stealing a breath Daisy should’ve had. Like some cosmic power placed them both on a balance and decided Jon was more important before it took Daisy away without leaving even a body for Basira to mourn over.

She knows she’s being unfair, and she doesn’t like it. She’s better than this, more objective. So she tries harder.

“I should’ve noticed before,” Basira offers tentatively, an olive branch that Jon jumps on much too quickly. Once upon a time it would have been endearing.

“No, of course not. You didn’t know Melanie before…” he makes a vague gesture pointing at his leg, “a- and she’s very uh- assertive. Even without the Slaughter, I think it would’ve translated into violence once you all started being in danger and there was no one else to… protect you.” He seems to catch on to what he’s saying, because he looks away almost immediately.

“Hm,” is all Basira says. She should’ve known this would bring her back to Daisy. Everything does. She can feel Keay’s eyes on her, and she focuses on not fidgeting. He doesn’t scare her.

“You… you’re living here too?” Jon asks after a moment, his voice dubious like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to continue the conversation after he ruined it once.

“It’s not safe out there. I got a camp bed by the tunnels,” Basira shrugs. “I like to keep an eye on them.”

“I… see. And- and Martin?” Jon asks. Keay makes a sound like a groan behind him, and Basira arches an eyebrow. Jon however, seems much more interested in a loose thread in his sock.

“I think he’s still got his own place. Whatever he’s doing for Lukas seems to be enough to keep him safe.”

“That’s… not ideal,” Jon tells the floor in a voice so low Basira can barely register it.

“No. I guess it isn’t.”

Neither one of them is too interested in conversation after that, and when Jon finally looks up and says it’s time Basira hops up to her feet immediately. It’s been a long thirty minutes.

“The scissors, please,” Jon extends a hand to her.

“I thought you had the scalpel?” Basira scowls. Surely he’s not planning on cutting her leg op-

“For the trouser leg!” Jon snaps in an exasperated whisper.

“Oh- right,” she hands them over.

Jon snips at the fabric until the trouser leg falls away, and he takes a deep breath.

“God… look at that,” he mutters. Basira feels every hair on her body stand on end, as a familiar static begins crackling around them. Jon’s eyes are giving off a faint green glow as he looks down at Mel, before he turns to face Keay. “Can- do you see it?”

“I see the mark,” Keay shrugs. He looks normal enough, no eerie glow or sharp teeth or anything, but by now Basira knows not all the monsters are that obvious.

“It’s a leg,” she says dryly.

Jon shakes his head. “It’s all rotten inside.”

“See the bullet?” she asks. Jon nods, and she tilts her chin towards Mel. “Get it out then.”

“Easy to say… she’s probably not going to swing at you,” Jon tightens his grip on the scalpel.

Basira doesn’t try to contradict him because while she’s sure none of them will be safe if Melanie wakes up, she’s even more certain Jon is going to be the first target.

“Here we go…"

And then Jon is sinking the knife into Melanie’s leg, and then his fingers, and Basira heaves a little when he pulls out a bright gold bullet dripping something black and slimy.

That’s when Melanie wakes up.

"GET OFF ME!” Melanie’s first lunge sends their makeshift operation tray crashing to the ground.

“Oh Jes- get her, she’s- she’s not supposed to be-!” Jon yells out, taking a hurried step back and crashing into Keay.

“Melanie, it’s alright!” Basira tries to reach her from the back- a chokehold won’t calm her down, but it’ll keep her still.

“Jon, get back-”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” It must be the Slaughter’s residual effects, because there is no way Melanie’s slight frame has enough strength to shake Basira off this easily- “I’LL KILL YOU!”

Basira sees something silver glint in her hand as she lunges at Jon, and she screams. “She’s got the scalpel!”

Jon screams when Melanie stabs the knife into his shoulder. Then she’s pulling back, and Basira knows she’ll go for the throat this tim-

The dry slap of a punch against flesh cracks over them and Melanie backs down, dizzy enough that Basira can wrap her arms tightly around her torso and arms.

“Run!” Basira yells, but Keay’s already half carrying, half dragging Jon away towards the exit.

The bullet sizzles as it burns a hole straight into the floor of the Institute.

——-

If whatever Jon and his friends did at the Unknowing didn’t destroy it outright, the Anglerfish could take some notes from the Archivists, Gerry thinks. For a couple of avatars that gain absolutely nothing from having people devoted to them, they’re both especially adept at luring them in.

Gertrude knew perfectly well what to give people in order to ensnare them. Gerry never did fall for the dainty old lady image that she so carefully cultivated to make both avatars and assistants drop their guard, so she never tried it with him.

It kept him from ending up like Michael Shelley, but of course that only made her come at him from another angle.

He knows now she never cared for him. Not as a person; not enough to not mutilate his body and tie his soul to the book and then not even take it back with her. But at the time it was easy to let himself believe this woman could give him at least some of the things his mother refused.

Sometimes during their trips, when they were just having supper at a small roadside restaurant or another, Gerry found himself stopping and marvelling at how normal it felt.

“Decaf for my grandma please, she’s very delicate,” he’d tell the server of the day and smirk at the way Gertrude’s eyes gleamed dangerously from the other side of the table.

“My grandson’s paying,” she’d say at the end of the meal when the bill landed on the table, giving the server a sweet little smile like she hadn’t just poured a couple hundred pounds of concrete onto a woman with as many arms as she had fingers. “He’s always treating me, a real sweetheart,” and Gerry would have to burn some more of his emergency cash on a meal.

At some point he started believing ‘normal’ was 'real’, and when Gerry tasted acid on his tongue and smelt burnt hair before his body started seizing, the most reassuring thought in his mind was that Gertrude was there with him as he reached a hand to her.

He doesn’t know if she took it.

Jon is a different story. It’s difficult not to notice when one spends every other night at his flat, but Jon is so alone that Gerry’s a little surprised to find none of the ten marks he bears belong to the Forsaken.

Jon flinches when Gerry touches him, and Gerry knows he should stop, that not everyone is ok with it, but Jon never really seems uncomfortable, just… surprised.

Jon smiles very rarely, but when he does he almost always looks down, like he doesn’t want you to see it. His smile is a bit lopsided, his teeth a little crooked and there’s a worm scar right at the edge of his lip. It’s a good smile, in Gerry’s opinion.

Jon takes up an eternity to dress up every morning because his right hand only barely works, and Gerry can’t bring himself to offer to help because Jon always mutters little apologies for the delay and he thinks it would only make him feel worse.

Jon greets Melanie and Basira every morning and says goodbye every evening, even when Basira’s the only one that responds and even then only sometimes. Gerry can pinpoint the days she doesn’t because he comes out looking a little more deflated.

Getrude had her assistants, Decker, Leitner, Gerry himself and half of the avatars moving across a chess board only she could see. Jon has a man willingly feeding himself to the Lonely -allegedly- out of love, and a poor imbecile who apparently can’t resist people who are as broken as him.

“How’s your shoulder?” Gerry asks as though he can’t see the bright pink new skin through the loose neckhole of one of the oversized shirts Jon wears to 'sleep’. “Wounds from the Slaughter take a while to heal.”

“I’m- I think it’s doing fine,” Jon fidgets with his sleeve a little, before going to sit at the opposite end of the sofa. “Martin’s still avoiding me.”

Jon’s voice is perfectly calm and unaffected, and Gerry knows it’s full of bullshit. He reaches to lay a hand atop Jon’s head consolingly.

“Still not your Martin?” he asks, only the slightest bit teasing. It still manages to bring a pained little smile out of Jon.

“Not anymore, in any case.” Jon sinks back against the sofa’s plush backrest, his head heavy against Gerry’s hand. “Basira told me his mother died while I was in the hospital. I didn’t even know.”

“If Lukas is keeping him isolated for some reason,” Gerry doesn’t say 'asides from sacrificing him to his patron’ because he’s not insensitive, thank you very much, “it makes sense he can’t just come into your office to talk feelings over a cup of tea.”

Jon sighs. “It’s not his fault. I- it’s selfish.”

“How is caring for him selfish?” Gerry arches an eyebrow. His hand in Jon’s hair moves the slightest bit, only enough to ruffle through it softly.

“Because I’m not caring for him. I’m caring about what he thinks of me. If I- I should respect his decision,” Jon finishes lamely, pulling his feet up onto the sofa to circle his knees with his arms.

“You are. It’s not a crime to miss someone you like.” Gerry never had a cat, but he imagines this is how it feels to pet one. Careful not to move too much or too abruptly lest he shatters the fragile trust he’s managed to build. “They- if they don’t want to save themselves, you can’t do it for them, Jon.”

Jon’s head tilts sideways so that he can aim his big dark eyes at Gerry. “We saved Melanie.”

“And look what it got you.”

“It doesn’t matter what happened to me. Melanie is… recovering. That’s all there is to it,” he says, and Gerry has no doubt Jon actually believes it. “Are you going out tonight?”

Gerry’s not stupid by any means, and he knows a diversion tactic -and a request for space- when he hears one.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Gerry says before climbing to his feet. Jon’s muttered 'be careful’ follows him through the door and prompts a small smile out of him.

Jon is easy to grow fond of, or maybe Gerry just doesn’t learn from his mistakes.

—-

It’s almost midnight when Melanie wakes up from a fitful sleep. It was probably the nagging hunger, so she sets to digging around the fridge for something she can put together with minimal effort.

“That’s a good bruise right there,” says a familiar, amused voice. Melanie smiles. Helen doesn’t usually manifest her door outside the lower levels of the institute, but Melanie hasn’t gone back down yet, choosing instead to sleep on a sofa at the makeshift infirmary Basira set up for her in the break room. She must be worried.

“I think he almost dislocated my jaw,” she says as she turns on the sofa to face Helen’s distorted, ever-changing form. “Jon’s new boyfriend has a good hook.”

“In my defense, I was only trying to knock you out. Is that the Distortion?”

Both of them turn at that, and Helen’s long fingered hand wraps itself protectively around Melanie’s shoulder. Melanie’s pleasantly surprised to notice the touch doesn’t trigger the mix of irritation and rage it did just a few days before. Now she’s only grateful to have Helen by her side as she looks up at Gerard Keay.

“Michael knew you,” says Helen, tilting her head to the side a few degrees further than a human could reasonably go.

“Only a little,” Gerard shrugs. “Before he became you. Who are you now?”

“I am me. But Helen is also me.”

Gerard nods. “Sans Getrude in the mix, I’m guessing a sacrifice that outsmarted you somehow?”

Helen’s smile curls at the corners, her eyes swirling with delight when Melanie looks up to check on her.

“Michael was getting distracted. Archivists have that effect, I’ve found.”

“And Helen doesn’t get distracted?” Gerard asks.

Helen’s smile keeps growing and curling into itself, but she doesn’t respond. Her hand tightens around Melanie’s shoulder.

“What do you want?” Melanie knows there’s a knife behind her. A blunt one, only good for spreading mayonnaise or butter, but it’s still a knife and she’s still aware of it. Her feeling for these things has diminished over the past two days, but she figures it’ll be a long time before it’s gone. If it ever is.

“To check on you, mostly. You didn’t go full avatar, but that bullet still did a number on you.”

Melanie’s fist clenches by her side. “Well, no need to worry now. I’m back to being inoffensive little old me.” The truth of it aches at her like a bad tooth. Logically, Melanie knows the bullet was bad, and that it made her terrible and feral. But she’d been… powerful. She’d driven out the Flesh’s creatures by herself, she’d saved everyone. And now the power is gone, and she can lie to Basira, but not herself.

She misses it.

“Yeah, right. I doubt that.” Gerard gives her a wary smile. “The Slaughter goes for tigers, not kittens. But without that thing inside you you should at least be thinking more clearly.”

“…I am,” Melanie responds after a moment’s hesitation. She’s not quite sure she buys that the Slaughter only powered up what was already inside her, but… this guy would know, wouldn’t he? “How- how is he?”

“Healing. A statement or two and he should be right as rain,” Gerard frowns a little when Helen chuckles behind Melanie. “Do you know something we don’t, Helen?”

“You know the answer to that question.” Helen’s smile looks angular now, like they’re looking at it in a fractured mirror.

Gerard rolls his eyes and shakes his head, before turning to Melanie again.

“He’ll be happy to know you’re feeling more like yourself.”

“I still don’t like him,” Melanie crosses her arms over her chest, “don’t give him any ideas.”

“As if Jon would ever willingly believe anyone likes him,” he smirks, but it’s a soft, amused smirk Melanie’s seen before on people talking about Jon- seriously, what do people see in him?!

Do Georgie and Martin and this guy just have some sort of… disaster human fetish? And that’s another problem because if Georgie does have it, that doesn’t say anything good about Melanie herself, one way or the other.

“How do you not… hate him?” Melanie asks. Whatever Gerard thinks about Jon, there ought to be some resentment in there.

“Jon?”

“No, the bloke that keeps leaving used spoons next to the sink, of course I’m talking about Jon!” Melanie snaps. He’s got to be making fun of her, it’s the only explanation. “You died, you were dead and you wanted to be dead and now you’re back in this fucking mess!”

The man lifts a pierced eyebrow. “It wasn’t Jon who brought me back.”

“But it was because of him! We’re all trapped here because-”

“Because Elias is an asshole?”

“Elias isn’t here!” Melanie snarls. Helen’s hand tightens around her torso again, from shoulderblade to clavicle, and Melanie thinks if the bullet were still in her she’d be at Gerard’s throat already.

“If you’re going to blame Jon for all that’s happened to you, you might as well blame yourself for knowing Jon.” The absolute bastard has the gall to shrug at her. “That’s how much choice he had in the matter, or how much you did.”

“So what, you’re saying this was going to happen one way or another?” Her teeth grind as she tensed her jaw. “That we had no choice?”

“Oh no. There were definitely choices involved,” Gerard seems to sense she’s about to jump at him, because he readjusts his stance a little. “Jon chose to take on the promotion at work. You chose to come and give your statement. Your friend here chose to open the door-”

“Leave her out of this. She couldn’t have known what would happen if she opened it, I couldn’t have known coming here to tell a story would end with me being- being turned into some kind of monster!” By the time she’s finished, Melanie’s panting for breath. Hot, angry tears burn at her eyes that she won’t let spill.

“There you have it,” Gerard says simply. “I was born into this mess. You pushed a domino and ended up here. Not everyone is Martin Blackwood.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” At some other point she’d find this hilarious. Two men pining over an absolute mess of a monster. As it stands, the only thing she feels is the slightest wave of protectiveness towards Martin; because she’s known him the longest out of the two of them.

Gerard shrugs.

“Jon may trust him… but Martin knows what he’s doing. And I don’t trust anyone who chooses this willingly,” he says, averting his gaze. “I knew a woman who did.”

—

Martin doesn’t like to think of Elias at all, much less in positive terms. He has to admit though, that unlike Peter, he at least knew something about running an institution. Peter disappears for days, sometimes weeks at a time, and when he does show up all he cares about is how Martin’s self isolation is going.

He caught him talking to a tape recorder a few days ago, and Martin had to sit through another lecture on how this is for everyone’s good, including Jon, and he’s been doing a wonderful job but needs to work harder and… Martin had lost interest after that, the gist of it is the same every time.

As long as Peter believes it’s working, he’ll leave Jon and the others alone.

Martin sits down before the two steaming mugs -he keeps brewing an extra one on reflex-, and pushes his glasses up to his forehead to rest his face on his hand. At least the Archives’ break room is free again, after Melanie recovered from whatever it was that happened to her leg.

There’s a very familiar click below the table, and Martin’s lips twitch into a smile.

“Hello there,” he greets the tape recorder when he bends down to retrieve it. He places it behind Jon’s cup of tea, and it does make him feel a little bit better. “Not doing anything really interesting right now, but you can stay if you want.”

The tape whirs away, and Martin nods at it.

“Yep. Just taking a break, Peter can get really exhausting, but you’ve heard him before, I’m sure you know.” It’s a fun little exercise, pretending the tapes talk back to him. It still makes him feel very lonely, but in a different way. One way or another, this is Jon here with him. “Not really, I mean if what he’s been saying about the Extinction is true then we do have a bigger problem in our hands but God, sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. He doesn’t even know his email password, you know? Has to change it every time he logs in, I think by now we’re up to Tundra22. One would think the head avatar for a supernatural entity would be a bit less incompetent.”

The tape recording gives two little clicks, and Martin chuckles.

“Yes I know, but Jon could at least log in to his email, even if Sasha was always guessing his passwords. But you’re right, maybe it’s an avatar thing.” He takes a sip of his tea; this is the most at ease he’s felt in days. “How is he doing by the way? I guess it’s good he’s not alone, he makes… really poor decisions when he is. Or when he thinks he is- remember when he dug my Mum’s letter from the trash? What was he thinking? I wasn’t going to confess to a murder over a letter, much less throw it in the bin!”

Click.

“Yes, fear makes us do stupid things, I know.” He rolls his eyes, feeling a wave of fondness for the man. “I just… I wish I could talk to him. But thinking about it, I don’t even know what I’d say. 'Hey Jon, did you hear me when I read to you at the hospital? I missed you at the Institute, but at least it was very reassuring to know where you were instead of wondering if you’d been kidnapped again’? Not great conversation starters.”

Click. Whirr. Click.

“I mean… I want to think so, of course. But I don’t know if you can really think when in a coma, much less miss someone. I- if he wanted to miss me of course!” Martin is such a mess, getting flustered at his own imagined conversations with an inanimate object. “I’m just- I’m going to get back to work, I’ve already spent too much time talking to you.”

A series of accusing clicks.

“Don’t give me that. I know you can just pop into my office whenever you want anyways,” he gives the tape recorder his best stern look. “Go back to him, come on. Before he decides to… I don’t know, go find another ritual to stop and almost gets himself killed again.”

The click this time sounds amused to Martin’s ears, and he chuckles as he climbs to his feet.

“Yeah, alright. You can- you can keep his tea. It’s not like I’m going to drink it anyways.”

He walks out of the room before he can convince himself to stay. He really does have things to do, and the last thing he wants is for Peter to come find him.

Inside the break room, a door opens that hadn’t been there before, and a long fingered hand snatches the tape recorder from the table.

#jongerrymartin #jonathan sims #gerry keay #martin blackwood #j/g/m #vit writes

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