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douxie-casperan · 3 years

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Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

#Ooc - Behind the curtains #Rise of the Titans #Rise of the Titans spoilers #RotT Spoilers #RoT spoilers #Wizards #Tales of Arcadia #ToAWizards #Hisirdoux Casperan #Douxie Casperan

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maplecornia · 3 years

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chapter 35

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.04K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

"For your information, I am very against this."

"I thought you were looking forward to starting your training."

You glare at Namjoon when he makes the snide comment, and he has to struggle to keep his smile hidden at the reaction. Pouting in your chair, the stylist has to press her hand on your back to remind you to sit straight. At your reluctance, Namjoon's smile only grows and you struggle to ignore the rise of adoration in your chest.

Rolling your eyes you turn to your reflection in the mirror.

You're nearly unrecognizable.

With heavy lashes brushing against your cheek each time you blink, contour thinning your face, dark eyeliner helping your eyes pop out against the blush on your cheeks, you find it had to remember the way you looked before. Were your eyes always this bright? Did you always have this curl to your lashes? Were your cheeks this rosy, did you have that red hue to your lips? Did they always look so full and appealing?

Swallowing hard, you wonder if you're ready for this.

When Jin told you you'd be modeling today you thought he was joking. But BangPD wouldn't joke about something like this and when you got the call from him it only secured your fears. Biting your bottom lip, you fidget once more in your chair, the stylist sighing behind you.

Sheepishly, you go still, choosing instead to wrap your hands tightly around the arms of the chair. The stylist resumes their work silently, no doubt unaware of the insecurities rising in your chest. Namjoon is different, however, and noticing the way you've suddenly gone silent he glances towards you in worry.

"Is she ready?" Jin's voice breaks through the busybody chaos of the dressing room as he enters, the stylist performing the finishing touches to your hair.

Still holding forms of animosity towards him, you roll your eyes adeptly ignoring him. If he notices he doesn't show it, just angles past your retreating stylist and places his hands on the back of your chair trying to catch your eye. You raise your brow his way, refusing to return his smile. Noting the growing tension, Namjoon clears his throat, heading over to you as well and helping you out of the chair.

"I should hope so, doesn't she look ready?" He murmurs a bit nervously, and nudges you, clearly screaming at you to make nice with Jin and let bygones be bygones. You roll your eyes at the not-so-subtle signs and force a somewhat convincing smile towards the veteran. Jin nods in satisfaction before leading the three of you to the door, bowing respectfully to the rest of the staff.

Jin shivers in anticipation as he heads down the corridor. "Kind of nervewracking huh?"

Glaring him out of the corner of your eye, you scoff.

"Wasn't this your idea?"

Unfazed, Jin leans down peering into your eyes.

"Was it?"

Biting the inside of your cheek, you flick his forehead with your thumb and forefinger and he reels back, groaning in pain. You can't help but smile in satisfaction, but when you turn to Namjoon, his disapproving stare is enough to make the smile fade away.

"He started it." You mutter under your breath as you enter the shooting area.

Multiple set pieces and lights, bustling people hurrying from one set to another, sounds of photos being taken, bright flashes, and shouts from one side of the room to another. Models in flashy apparel, makeup artists, and stylists are ready to touch up anyone who needs it.

As you come face to face with the sight, you have to refrain from cursing underneath your breath.

"Ah Yen, good you're ready." At the voice, you blink out of your reverie only to find Sejin standing before the three of you. "Thank you for doing this again."

The head of BTS' management team, you've only met the man once before. He looks the same as he did then. Tall and intimidating, burly but with kind eyes. Graying black hair and signature glasses rest on his nose, a soft smile always playing on his lips. He puts you at ease, gives you a sense of familiarity and comfort.

"Of course, sir." You bow your head respectfully towards him, ignoring the incredulous look Jin makes beside you.

"Favoritism." He murmurs under his breath, and you wonder silently if Sejin will notice you elbowing him hard in his gut.

"They won't show your face that much, so all you have to do is stand there and look pretty for the camera. Simple enough, right?" Sejin explains, either pretending to be or completely oblivious to the exchange you and Jin just had. You nod as he turns away, picking up a call from his phone.

"Yeah..." You shakily look down at your hands, praying for them to stop shaking. "Simple."

Namjoon glances your way and reaches for your hand, prepared to offer you some words of encouragement, but another voice breaks through the chaos and he flinches away as soon as your head snaps up once more.

"Let's get going everyone!"

A man stands amidst the bustling crowd, with a clipboard in his hands and an earpiece secured in his ear. A couple of people are constantly trailing after him, asking questions and then darting away to carry out another set of tasks. He wears extravagant yet down-to-earth clothing, something that lets you know he's important but still a part of the background.

"Who's..." you start to say, but Namjoon, following your gaze, already answering your question as he folds his arms.

"That's the director for the shoot." He sighs, almost in exhaustion. Jin nods at his explanation getting the same worn-out look on his face at the sight of the man.

"He's just a little...eccentric." He adds to Namjoon's assumption, and you can't help but snort. Luckily, Jin doesn't seem to notice.

"That's rich coming from you." You mutter under your breath, holding your hand over your mouth to conceal your small giggles of laughter. Namjoon nudges you again to remind you to be respectful, but even he can't keep the smile off his face at the comparison.

"You must be Yen!"

At the shout from across the studio, you flinch as you turn to see the director just a few feet away from you. He takes your hand in his and shakes it excitably, and you have to resist the urge to remind him of personal space.

"My name is Deokhwa, thank you for filling in today."

You smile weakly at his enthusiasm, trying to read his excitement and understand why it's necessary.

"It's no problem."

Almost as soon as he was by your side, he turns on his heel and heads the other way once more calling out instructions to the staff members scuttling around.

"Can we get Taehyung and Jungkook into hair and makeup, please?! This should have been done ages ago!" With wide eyes, you watch him leave, your hand still outstretched where he had shaken it moments ago.

"Is he always like this?"

"Sometimes it's worse," Jin whispers in your ear, and you can't help it, you laugh, any hostility held against him now gone. There wasn't any reason for you to be mad at him, but it's just startling.

Aren't you supposed to be prepared for things like this? But standing here, you couldn't feel more out of place.

"Suga and Jimin, get into costume! Someone touch up Yoongi's hair please, he fell asleep...again."

Swallowing hard, you consider turning on your heel and running out of there. You wonder what they'd do if you just gave everything up now. You'd be okay, right? You've dealt with letting down people before. This wouldn't be anything different.

Then you remember.

The only person you'd be hurting would be yourself.

Clenching your jaw tight, you root your feet to the ground, refusing to let yourself get intimidated. Yes, you're not fully prepared, but you can do this. You have to do this.

"Hoseok!" Deokhwa calls for Jhope who's dawdling around near Suga. He turns at the sound of his name, Yoongi opening an eye, half-delirious and half annoyed. "Are you ready?"

"Yes sir!" He nods, a little too excited. Suga winces from his place beside Jhope, and pulls a pillow off the couch he was sleeping on.

"Then you and Yen can go first, alright?" Deokhwa decides, crossing something off of his clipboard. Jhope nods, saluting the director with a wide smile.

"Roger that!" He shouts once more, unbeknownst of Yoongi winding up behind him, and smacking the pillow straight into his back. Jhope shrieks, startled before turning to Suga and delving into a slight argument.

Namjoon, shaking his head at the encounter, almost forgets that you're right beside him. It's only when you take a deep breath to steady your nerves does he remember, turning to you. Biting his bottom lip, he considers reaching out to console you but pulls away hesitantly. Instead, he clears his throat, gathering your attention.

"Don't worry so much." He murmurs, glancing your way and sending you a slightly awkward but reassuring smile. "You can do this."

You return the smile, finding his concern to be comforting before turning to Deokhwa and heading over there to meet Jhope.

Maybe he's right, maybe you can do this.

Or maybe you're in over your head.

Standing in the middle of the set, you find yourself freezing, unable to move at the sight of so many eyes on you, so many cameras pointed your way. Ready to capture your every move, your every expression, your every misstep. You can't move, afraid that you'll screw everything up. Everything is so perfect, everything is set where it's supposed to be, what if you'll break it when you touch it? Anxiety growing larger and larger within your gut you try your hardest not to break down.

Why did they think you were ready for this? You don't even know what to do, much less how to do it even if you could figure out how to move again. Deokhwa tries his hardest to give you directions, but it's lost within the noise in your head. Static grows, mixing in with the bright lights and eyes staring at you, waiting to devour you and pick you apart as though you were a doll meant for their enjoyment.

When his hand wraps around your arm, sending warmth throughout your shaking body, you find yourself completely helpless. He pulls you to his side, his hands strong and sure behind you, making sure that you won't fall on his watch. You look to him, wondering if he can see how vulnerable you are at the moment, wondering if he knows that you aren't as strong as you pretend to be.

Jhope only smiles, brushing your hair off of your forehead and giving you a soft kiss in their place. You blink, shocked at the sudden show of affection, and equally as shocked when the camera flashes, taking a shot of the encounter.

Flinching, you turn to the camera, and the director, who's grinning from ear to ear. "That was great! Keep it up you two! And Yen, it's okay to be nervous at first, don't worry you'll get the hang of it."

Sheepishly, you nod, any fear or anxiety you had before quickly fading away in an instant. As the shooting commences, you turn to Jhope who has since let go of you and let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

Hoseok glances at you from the corner of his eye, chuckling to himself as he takes your hands and leads you over to another section of the set. Dubiously still posing for the cameramen of the shoot. You notice, and can't help but smile. He really is kind.

"For what?"

At his question, you give him a look, but the innocent smile on his face only grows wider. It's a smile that tells you he knows exactly what he did, but he won't admit to it. You roll your eyes at the notion, finding it so like him, and yet so infuriating.

Instead, he picks up a bouquet and hands it to you. "There's nothing to thank me for, it's only right to help out someone new on set."

You take the flowers delicately into your hands, finding them to be an exquisite array of daffodils and sunflowers, a few peonies dotted here and there. You raise the flowers to your face, inhaling the sweet scent. As you do, Jhope smiles affectionately, multiple flashes from the camera capturing every second. However, the two of you are too distracted to care.

"Do you know what these flowers mean?" He asks you, and you look up at him, shaking your head silently. He chuckles at the curious spark in your eye and takes one of the daffodil petals into his hands, stepping closer to you.

"Daffodil's represent rebirth and new beginnings." He explains. "The first bloom after winter fades."

New beginnings. You wonder if there's any left for you to find.

"The sunflower is simple. A sign of happiness and good fortune. Peonies are difficult, however."

"How so?" You ask him, and he smiles, lifting a one from the bouquet.

"They mean something different all over the world. In Greece, they are known to represent bashfulness. In Japan, they're associated with bravery and honor." Looking up at you through his long eyelashes, he brushes his finger across your cheek as he tucks the flower behind your ear. "Generally though, they can be known to represent prosperity and love."

At the mention of the word, both of you look at the other. There's something in his eyes, something that reminds you of the way Jungkook has looked at you before. The same electrifying look that Taehyung has sent your way. The same connection you shared with the masked man.

He only pulls away from your touch long enough to set the flowers aside, then his hands reach for yours and they soon intertwine together.

Maybe it's the strange feeling of the set or the weird way the flowers have resonated with you, but you can feel your heartbeat increasing with every step he takes towards you. He presses his forehead against yours, and you find yourself avoiding his eyes, your cheeks flushing a bright red. Swallowing hard, you look up to find his eyes hooded, all traces of his once comforting smile now gone and replaced with something more sentimental.

"What?" you whisper.

"What do you mean?" This time, he doesn't smile innocently, instead, his warm hands tighten around yours, creating a cocoon around the two of you. You take a shaky breath, trying to refuse the loud pounding of your heart in your ears.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He offers you no answer, only takes a step closer, your bodies now able to feel the other's warmth. A comforting feeling, one that lets you know that you still breathe and feel the same if not a bit different from the other. He presses his thumb against your cheek, rubbing it softly over your skin in a delicate motion. With wide eyes, you look up at him, wondering what is there that has entranced him so.

"Did you know you have a freckle here?"

Before you can move or even respond, Deokhwa's voice cuts through the cocoon, and the both of you are brought back to the harsh reality you had once escaped from in the arms of the other.

"Alright! That's a wrap, good job you two. Hoseok you can now get changed for your solo shots, and Namjoon get ready you'll be next."

When Jhope pulls away, you find yourself frozen, and confused.

Was that...was that all an act?

Watching him bow slightly to the director and cameramen, but still stay a considerable distance away from you, you can't help but feel a bit slighted. It all felt so real. Could he really have been faking it--?

And so what if he had?

Blushing profusely, you place your hands on your cheeks cursing and begging the rosy hue to erase itself from your skin.

Honestly, Yen, what were you expecting? He doesn't even know you that well, certainly not as well as Namjoon or Tae...

And why are you bringing those two into this?!

Inwardly, you groan. Having all of these idols around you 24/7 isn't doing any favors for your heart. Biting your bottom lip, you feel the darkness growing inside of you once more as you remember your promise.

Not now Yen.

Not yet.

Chuckling nervously, you turn to Jhope.

"You're good at this."

Hoseok looks towards you, once more feigning innocence. You almost want to strangle that puppy dog look from his eyes. It's as though he refuses to show you a real side to him. It's maddening, you can't seem to figure him out.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and you force a smile, beneath your grimace. Taking a deep breath, you pull the peony from your ear, smiling softly.

"You know...faking." You say the word before you realize how insulting it could be interpreted. At Hoseok's slight eyebrow raise, you grimace noting that he took it exactly that way. You stammer, scrambling for the right way to make up for your wrong usage of words. "I mean, you're a good actor! I almost believed that was real."

Jhope looks as though he wants to say something in response, but before he can, Deokhwa call from beyond the set, near a couple of stylists touching up Namjoon's makeup before he heads up.

"Come on you two! Come take a look at the monitor."

You nod, silently thanking God for giving you a weird and eccentric director. You don't notice the odd way Hoseok is looking at you, nor do you realize that he's taken a step closer to you. Placing his hand on your shoulder, you jump a bit, turning to him, but his lips are already by your ear, his breath hot and dancing on your skin.

You try your hardest not to shiver as he whispers his next words, the sound reverberating in your eardrums.

"I wasn't faking anything."

𝔞/𝔫: i feel like we have hardly any Jhope moments so here you go! i hope this is a nice one, even if it's kind of short ;-;

chapter 36 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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wasabito-reblogs · 4 years

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here’s my entry for the konoha simps server collab :) check out the rest of the entries here or at @bakubabes-hatake’s page!

prompt: occasions

word count: 2.5k

tags&warnings: established relationship, domestic fluff, hints of spiciness at the end (nothing major)

summary: In which you and Aizawa rediscover your synergy

❤︎

There was a sudden click at the front door, following telltale sounds of a key being jimmied into the lock. Both were enough to break the still quietude and have Aizawa cracking open a bloodshot eye, his sleepy, hooded gaze darting around the room until he finally spotted the sudden intrusion.

You stood at the foyer, slipping off your work shoes, with a look of mild concern on your face. Your lips held a slight frown that looked misplaced, especially when directed at him. He knew immediately that he’d fucked up.

A damning, half-empty cup of coffee sitting innocently on top of your old Heroics in Society textbook drew your attention first, before any of the other things. In your shared living room, the state of disarray all pointed to the simple fact that your boyfriend had come home and gone straight to grading.

Aizawa coughed and sat up straighter on the sofa. Though his body moved in slow motion, his mind raced to find some logical reasoning to explain why he was, once again, neglecting his health in favor of work.

Stuck to his chest was the exam sheet he had been eye-balling before succumbing to fatigue. Even after a somewhat restful nap, Aizawa could scarcely make out what hieroglyphics Kaminari had written on his paper.

You came and leaned into the back of the chair to read over Aizawa’s shoulder. Pointing to the true and false section of the exam, you wondered aloud, “Why do the T’s and F’s look so similar? I can barely tell which is which.”

He snorted lightly with a roll of his eyes, “That’s probably the point.” He said, but considering he had just woken up, it sounded more like grumbled nonsense.

Your noncommittal hum in response was all he got before you plucked the sheet from his hands. He watched as you came around and stacked up his papers, making sure to separate graded works from the ones he had yet to look at. How many times had you caught him like this? Passed out on the living room couch with class 1A’s assignments scattered every which way.

“You really gotta take better care of yourself, Shou.”

“I know,” he tugged on your hand, bringing the back of it to his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softened at his words and the sleepy expression on his face. It was almost too endearing. “Yeah, okay, you say that now, but I’m sure you’ll be back to it again tomorrow.”

Aizawa couldn’t even deny your claim. He was a workaholic through and through. Most of his time was spent doing some form of work, whether it be in managing his class as a U.A teacher or patrolling the city as a pro-hero.

No one understood the toll it took on him better than you. You were a quirk counselor at Ketsubutsu Academy, after all, so it was your job to make sure that both students and staff were taking care of their physical and mental health. A lot of your work tended to trickle into the home, usually in the form of fussing over your boyfriend and making sure he was taking breaks and getting proper rest.

“You’re home early,” he commented. He kept your hand in his lap to fiddle idly with your fingers. “Something happen? … You look nervous.”

Even half-asleep, Shouta was astute as ever.

“Ah, not really. There’s this thing at work tonight, but I think I might skip it.”

His brows furrowed as he considered your words, “A work thing? Tonight?”

“Yeah, just a little ceremony for the staff, no biggie.”

“Sounds important. Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

“I—” you fumbled; how could you forget this man could read you like a book? Whenever you were dodgy or evasive, he knew just where to press until you were honest with him. “It’s actually an award ceremony. I’m being honored for my work at the school.”

Aizawa smiled, showing off a row of teeth in a way that made your heart skip a beat. You nearly missed his next words.

“I’m proud of you, kitten. Seriously, you deserve the recognition.” His long fingers threaded into yours, and you felt centered in the feeling of his firm grip like you were finally on solid footing. It definitely helped ease the tension off your shoulders.

“Thanks, Shou.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “So, what time is this thing, because I’m not letting you sit at home and miss it. And before you argue, consider the logic in remaining home when you know you’re being honored for something like this.” He stood from the sofa, stretching, and then cracking his neck. “It just isn’t rational.”

“So...you’re coming with me?”

You couldn’t hold back the surprise in your voice. It seemed almost too good to be true, you and Shouta going out together and to an event, no less. Usually, it took being dragged out of the house by his coworkers for him to enjoy a Friday night off.

Not to mention, no one knew of your relationship. His friends probably had their own assumptions but no one on your end knew a thing. This would be your first public outing as a couple.

“Of course I’m coming with you.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You smiled, realizing it was.

❤︎

An hour later, you stood behind a seated Aizawa in the middle of your bathroom with a towel looped around your body, still dripping from your recent shower.

“You have to hold still, baby, or else it’s gonna hurt,” you mumble while adjusting your grip on the hairbrush.

He had asked you to help him out with his hair, but the task proved quite tricky. Its length and thickness gave you no other choice but to work in smaller sections, which you had no issues with. If only your fingers in Shouta’s hair didn’t put him straight to sleep again. This was the third time he’d nodded off and caused the brush to snag at his roots.

With a sigh, you attempted to run the brush gingerly through his hair once more. In the past, you’d seen pictures of your boyfriend as a child, always with his hair looking unkempt and so obviously unattended to; at least before he grew old enough to do it himself. Funnily enough, it was like you finally understood the reason why.

After a few more minutes of careful ministrations, you patted his shoulder and smiled. “All done!”

Aizawa looked up bleary-eyed, then shook his hair out and ran his fingers through it. “Nice, thank you.” He leaned over and pecked your forehead before standing to his feet. “Want me to do you?”

You snorted at the subtle implications of his words. “Go get dressed already. I can ‘do’ myself.”

“Oh, can you?”

You were tempted to play along with his little joke, but it was getting late and neither of you were dressed yet. Regrettably, you shooed him away so that you could continue to prepare on your own without him being a distraction

Following another thirty or so minutes, you dressed up and met Aizawa at the door. He had put on a crisp button up shirt and a pair of dark, tailored pants that fit him so well, you had to resist the urge to pinch his ass.

When you approached, he was standing at the mirror in the hall, tying his hair into a bun. You could tell he had given up on fussing with his tie just by the way it hung loose around his neck.

“Here, let me,” with deft fingers you undid the knot, sliding the tie off and then promptly tossed it onto the couch. You also unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, smiling to yourself at the lidded stare Aizawa was pinning you with.

“You want me to go out like this?”

“I thought I’d let you off the hook,” you laughed. “No tie tonight.”

Closing the gap between you two, Aizawa planted a kiss at the corner of your mouth, as a silent thank you.

❤︎

From what you understood, the ceremony wasn’t supposed to be a large one, still a good bit of Ketsubutsu staff and student body were present.

Already you could tell that Aizawa was a little put off by the amount of people, especially those who kept staring at you two. Though, it just couldn’t be helped. Not many knew that either of you were in a relationship. Dressed as he was, you wouldn't be surprised if most simply didn't recognize him as the pro-hero, Eraserhead.

Even you had to admit that your boyfriend cleaned up nicely, a stark contrast from his usual ‘rolled out of bed’ appearance.

“Hey! You made it!” Emi Fukukado, otherwise known as Ms. Joke, called to you over the crowd. You were just about to go over to greet her and the others when Aizawa cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna get you a drink.” he gave your hand a light squeeze and excused himself before you could respond.

“Hey, hey!! I’m so glad you’re here.” Your coworker had waltzed over and scooped you into a tight hug.

“S-Same,” you wheezed. “Mind letting go?”

“Oh whoops!” Emi laughed sheepishly. When she finally released you, you couldn't help but notice her looking around. “Weren’t you just with someone? I didn’t get a good look but I’m positive—”

“Oh yeah,” you looked around for Aizawa but couldn’t see him anywhere “I um...didn’t come alone. I came with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?! Since when?!!”

“Ah! Well…”

Thankfully before you could delve into explaining anything, you were saved by the proverbial bell.

Over the intercom, the principal announced for all attendees to proceed towards the auditorium where the ceremony would be held. Although you followed Emi without question, you still silently searched for Aizawa in the crowd but to no avail.

You were escorted to a seat in the front row with all the others who were also being recognized. Still you couldn’t help wondering where the hell Shouta had gone. You could barely focus during the entire opening speech, your attention having been snatched by worry. If not for Emi subtly tapping your arm, you might’ve even missed your name being called.

You stood up and walked across the stage, willing your legs to move forward. The principal shook your hand and presented to you a plaque with your name engraved in gold lettering. Several others on stage, some heroes and staff, also commended you with handshakes and warm hugs. You murmured thank yous all the way to your seat, but still you wondered about your boyfriend.

“Hey, Emi.” You said as you handed her your award. “I’ll be right back, could you watch this for me? I’m going to the washroom.”

Emi seemed a little concerned by your tone but agreed. “Got it!”

Quietly you exited the auditorium and headed in the direction of the reception hall where you’d last seen Shouta, but it was empty save for a few students milling about the snack table. You were tempted to ask if they had seen Eraserhead, but decided against it, you could find him on your own.

After about ten minutes of searching you went to one of the balconies overlooking the sports field. To your immediate surprise, there stood Aizawa, though he seemed preoccupied. There was a cell phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. He noticed you not a second later, and concluded his call quickly.

“Shou, what are you doing out here?”

He frowned. “I got caught up in a work call, I’m sorry. Has it started?”

“It’s more than started, it's almost over.”

Your boyfriend looked stunned for just a moment before he let out a sigh, “I’m really sorry I missed it kitten,” he came to loop his arms around you.

“Like I said, it was no biggie,” you mumbled.

“You okay?… You’re shaking.” he whispered, lips pressed against your hair.

“I’m fine,” you responded. “Just cold.”

At that, Aizawa pulled you closer into his chest, his arms acting as a shield against the evening chill.

Something had been on your mind since the beginning of the night. It was an intrusive thought and although you knew better than to entertain it, it was also proving to be hard to ignore. Shouta had been acting strange since arriving here. You thought it was because of the crowd but he wouldn't have missed the ceremony for something as minute as that. You breathed in his scent, slowly gathering the courage to ask what had been rattling in your brain for a while now.

“Be honest with me, Shou, are you afraid of us going public?”

You felt him stiffen and pull back slowly to see your face fully. He didn’t ask you to repeat yourself, so you knew he had heard you loud and clear.

“What makes you say that?”

You looked away from him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, “I don’t know… it’s just a thought.”

Aizawa didn’t speak for a long while. He still held you close, almost protectively, but he remained silent like he was trying to find the right words to say.

“Yeah...I guess you could say that.” He sighed, “but it’s not what you’re thinking. I’m not afraid of what people will think when they see us, far from it. But the thought of you getting hurt because of your association to me...makes me...hesitant.”

You blinked up at him. The way his jaw was set as he spoke became proof enough that he wasn’t as unaffected by things as he appeared. Always so cool and collected, and yet he was possibly the most capable of emotion. You pressed your forehead against his chest as you considered your next words.

“I get that. But that doesn't give you an excuse to run off!” You pinched his arm lightly as if it emphasized your point.

“You’re right kitten, although it was an important call.” his lips spread into a wide smile. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Hm, I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Aizawa huffed and rolled his eyes at you, then bent to capture your lips in kiss. It was heavy and comforting in a way mere words simply failed to be. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in that feeling. His hand drifted lower down your back until he was nearly cupping your ass.

“Mmmm, Shou.” You pulled back, feeling the heat in your cheeks. Aizawa said nothing, instead he smirked like he had something planned. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away a stray lash.

“Shall we take this home?”

❤︎

(Part 2 in the works, stay tuned!!)

#shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #sabi.writes

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ask-de-writer · 3 years

Text

DESORA : Part 3 of 11 : Classical Fantasy : Green Velvet sequel

Desora is the second sequel to GREEN VELVET.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Classical Fantasy

DESORA

Part 3 of 11

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

16893 words

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

///////////////////////

Letting her outrage show, Desora withdrew a parchment document from her sleeve and slapped it down on the table. “Recently, I found that Cedroc put out this proclamation shortly after I left his Court to come here. It calls my land the so called Duchy of Evenstar, as if this Duchy were not given by Written Grant and Patent Royal!”

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Organe asked dryly, “Isn’t that a violation of Fealty? What does your Grant and Patent say of that? May I see the documents?”

Mistress Root was sent to the Scriptal for the documents upon which Evenstar was based. She brought them and laid them on the table in front of Organe so swiftly that I barely saw the movement. Brownies dislike being seen.

Organe absently said, “Thank you, Mistress Root.” She was already deep into the intricacies of the legal documents. Muttering to herself, “. . . the tip of Narthen Peak to the western end of Callas Moor. That’s a debatable bit . . .”

When Organe was done, she looked up. An almost beatific smile played about her lips as she said gleefully, “. . . To make of it what you will! I would never put that in any Grant or Patent Royal.

“You are right about the Proclamation, too. It does violate Fealty! You must confront Cedroc over the issue. If he supports the Proclamation, then you no longer owe him the Fealty that he will not give.

“According to your Grant, Desora, you do have humans included in your lands. You have been given the entire Bokenkap range and Snaefel Moor to the Moonrise Sea. The red and green crystal miners who stole Dimmer Delf from the Dwarves live in the Caldras Spur of the Bokenkap range and are therefore yours by right. You have humans under your rule.”

Down at the tables, dwarfish heads snapped about at the pronouncement and their dark eyes focused on Organe like knife points. Calculatingly they shifted their gaze to Desora.

She promptly called, “Master Granite! Please come here.”

When the dwarf approached, Desora told him, “I know that you heard what my mother said. You have now a good place in Understone. Those humans who stole Dimmer Delf may not yet be dispossessed. In any case, they are important to the future of this Duchy. For now, they have the protection of King Cedroc. As King, he has ruled in their favor and I am bound by that ruling.

“I have confided my hopes for this whole Duchy to you personally before this. Some patience on your part will bear you and yours a rich reward. Do you understand?”

The craggy face of the dwarf creased into a smile. “I do believe so, Your Grace. You will have the whole-hearted loyalty of the Dwarven Peoples in support of your hopes.”

Nodding carefully, Desora replied, “I do hope so, Master Granite. Your people are one of the strong foundations upon which Evenstar is built.”

Turning back to Organe, Desora said, “I thank you, Mother. What you just said has confirmed my own reading of these documents. These so called Patent Royal and Grant together with the proclamation are effectively a declaration of war. I hoped that it would be so.

“It is clear that Cedroc meant for me to find a cave to Lair in and create a Desolation to secure his Southern flank. Instead, I have made a good road, a port, a castle, a troll Garth and three Dwarven Delfs. I cannot claim the making of the Elf Holts. They were already here.”

From down a long table, a sharp eared elf spoke up, “Our Holts were dying out until your ogre, trolls and dwarves made those waterworks to save our forests in the glens from drought.”

Desora inclined her head in acknowledgment, saying, “You are correct, Master Aspen. What did I demand of you and yours for that help?”

He said thoughtfully, “You demanded no thing of us but to reflect on the fact that we owed our very survival to dwarves, trolls and an ogre all working together in harmony. You invited us to join that already strange company and we did, after much debate. We have not regretted it.”

A new and firm rap came from the door. Looking to the hall’s end, I saw both the Elf and the Dwarven heralds quailing away from the big iron bound panels. The rap came again, firm and clear, the sound of a cane or walking staff striking the knocker of the portal. At Desora’s frowning nod to the heralds, they rose to their places and pulled the doorway open, crying out in their best Heraldic voices, “Morgon Blackmane the Mercenary! Delf’s Bane! Dragon of Darkness!”

A tall, straight, black haired woman, richly dressed, strode between them, into the room. She leaned lightly on a cane and limped a little on her left foot. Desora joyfully ran from her throne and stopped in the middle of the hall, hands outstretched in welcome. Morgon smiled as she approached.

Desora exclaimed, “Welcome to the Hall of Evenstar, Morgon! I haven’t seen you since Mother took me back from the tavern keepers in Blackwood!”

If Organe was startled by Morgon’s welcome, what came next astonished her. Desora went on, “Tell me, Foster Mother, why are you here?”

Promptly and frankly, Morgon replied, “I am scouting your defenses for King Cedroc’s advance. He will be here by next Moonrise with his retinue to demand his taxes, a Moon early. When you can’t pay him, he will bring his army up to besiege you.

“He was enraged that you built this place instead of finding a cave and creating a desolation to ward his southern flank, as he intended. As a result, he has decided to take your castle from you by force. He claims that you built this whole place without Royal permission.”

Organe, quivering with contained rage, stated dryly, “Morgon, Cedroc lied when he told you that. I was just studying Desora’s Patent of Title and Grant of Lands.”

Clapping her hands in glee, Morgon exclaimed, “Oh! I must see that!”

The three dragons poured over the documents. Morgon pointed unerringly at the same wording that Organe had found. She howled with delight, “Cedroc lied about my hire! By the Mercenary Code I can keep his gold and not have to attack you, Desora!”

Sobering some, she went on, “Cedroc can’t take this place, you know. He hasn’t the force. You have traps all along the road to the castle. Besides, this fortress looks to be made of the finest Dwarvish stone work and Elven woodwork. Your location and design are pure military genius. If you had to, a mere handful could hold off all that Cedroc can bring to bear. The only weak point that I saw was the straight road up the foot of the ridge to your main gate. Even it is steep enough to defend easily.”

Smiling happily at the praise of an experienced warrior, Desora said, “Thank you, Morgon. Mother taught me both strategic placement and military design.”

Morgon inclined her head to Organe, saying, “You are a good teacher. Bane is impregnable too.”

A world of bitter anger freighted her words as Organe replied, “Not quite. You got in, that night while I was out searching for Thomas, and kidnapped Desora. And she just called you Foster Mother! You would have let her die a Mortal Death, never knowing what or who she was!”

A shocked silence stretched tighter than the head of a marching drum before Desora broke it. Softly, she declared, “Mother, Morgon couldn’t get in. As part of King Cedroc’s plan to break your kingdom, he had Earl Mechan steal me from the Royal Apartments. Mechan was going to take me away and kill me beyond your borders, where you could never find my body. Morgon intercepted him at the postern gate and took me from him. She saved my life!

“Morgon placed me with the taverners in Blackwood. She paid for my keep and visited often. She taught me the Rules and Precepts of Theft. Morgon never let me forget who or what I was.

“I thought that you knew,” she finished in a smaller voice.

Organe’s voice pounced dangerously on one bit of information. “Cedroc’s plan to split my Kingdom? I did not know that he was in it so early on.”

Firmly, Desora stated, “Yes, Mother. Cedroc’s plan. And you will behave as if you know nothing of it when he visits.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

Desora is the second sequel to GREEN VELVET.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Classical Fantasy

#DESORA #Part 3 of 11 #Classical Fantasy #Green Velvet sequel #Written by De Writer

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sourbat · 3 years

Text

Here’s a little something inspired by a twitter post by @lampmeeting. Thank you for letting me use your setting and allowing explore this idea :)

Summary: Magnus comes to his apartment after a long day from work and realizes he forgot Toki was coming to see him.

Pair: Toki and Magnus

Rating: T for language

He forgot Toki was due to arrive today. Well, that wasn’t entirely true: Magnus pretty much had the date engrained in every facet of his being, with the memo saved on both calendar and the company phone. But somewhere between being asked to pick up Dennis’ shift, spending a solid half hour trying to help sort a fight between two live-ins, being snubbed by the supervisor for appearing less than favorable around clients and forgetting to clock out at lunch (again), and having the misfortune of being the only one on duty with the knowledge to replace a flat tire, it must have slipped his mind. Then, to top it all off, Magnus very stupidly accepted staying behind to help clean the cafeteria’s storeroom. He did it despite already being in a mood, sore from kneeling and installing a new wheel for the company van, because he thought it might amount to some small, positive thing. His supervisor redacting their previous statement about him, or some co-worker offering a smile instead of their usual candor regarding him and his temperament. It didn’t, and instead of clocking out at half past three like he planned, didn’t reach the floor to his apartment until five in the evening, where he found Toki already situated, phone at hand and a few klokateers at his side.

Toki lifted his head, eyes aglow with immediate interest the moment Magnus shut the door behind him. “Hiya Magnus!”

Unprepared, and quite shocked to see the younger man sitting amongst his furniture, Magnus spent a good second taking in the scene. There was Toki, smiling at him. Klokateers nodding and offering their silent warnings before slipping past and offering the two their privacy. His lower back twinging with icy stings. The clock on the microwave indicating the hour. The reminder on his calendar that Toki would be arriving around half past four. Toki approaching and snatching him by the hand. The weight of his work boots tripling, and the insane pang his arches endured with every step.

“Toki, you’re here?” he muttered amid his mental decay, and still pondered and repeated as Toki dragged him to the couch. He fell into the stiff cushion, good eye still fixed on the younger man’s form, hoping that this was all a terrible mistake, and Toki hadn’t just spent half an hour waiting for him.

A friendly peck on the cheek proved otherwise.

“You’re here,” Magnus muttered, palm resting against the freshly planted kiss. Shit, you’re here.”

“Yeps,” Toki replied joyfully, which only served to eat at Magnus’ already steeping guilt. He grabbed a collection of reusable bags, hoisting them and placing them on top of his laps for Magnus to view. “Broughts a lot of things this times. And now you ams here, so we can haves…”

Magnus raised his heavy head when he noticed Toki suddenly go silent. A quick glance provided a hint something was amiss, and when Magnus stopped trying to free his knotted shoelace, saw Toki wearing the oddest of looks.

“Something wrong?”

“Ams ok?”

Magnus dropped his leg. “What?”

“Looks a little tireds,” Toki answered with a small, worried pout. Again, it only made Magnus painfully aware of how late he was, and he regretted bothering to stay behind in the first place. Toki, how on earth did he forget Toki was visiting him today? And now the guy was staring at him like he was expecting Magnus to break down and admit he accidentally set the kitchen on fire. Well, it almost felt like it. Magnus would have rather that happen than half the other crap that occurred today. That would have been a decent enough excuse for being late. There was no way he was going to bring up what actually occurred. No point in wasting Toki’s precious time. The guy traveled thousands of miles to be here. It was Magnus’ turn to play good host.

With that in mind, Magnus pasted on a smile. He sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed the pain rooted in his lower back and legs, and said, “Well, I hung around work longer than normal.”

“Oh, ams dat why you ams so late?”

Ouch. Well, ok.

Pulling in his bottom lip for a bite, Magnus gave a slight nod. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No, ams ok,” Toki insisted, perking his shoulder up and lifting the ends of his pout into a hopeful smile. “I dids say you should tries to make more friends here.”

“You did say that,” Magnus replied, trying to sound more relieved than annoyed by his current prospects.

If only Toki knew how half the staff reacted whenever he moseyed into a room, or how impatient and passive-aggressive his supervisor turned when he performed an action that was deemed subpar, or “not friendly enough,” whatever the hell that meant. As far as friends go, Magnus had several twenty-somethings bothering him over the smallest thing, and never picking up when he wanted space, or–

“So, why don’t you tells Toki abouts your day?”

Magnus tugged at a shoestring, eye wincing at the dull sting that quaked in his arch. Was it a blister, or just plain exhaustion? Then arrived the question, and when Magnus broke from his strain of thought, found Toki now inching closer with his round blue eyes locked on him.

With the same, tight smile, Magnus shook his head and waggled a finger at the encroaching Toki. “Nah, give me a moment. I’ll be ready to head out in a second.”

He returned to his work boots and tugged at the heel, wriggling it free as best he could without reawakening another sharp pang. Magnus yanked off the first, withholding a sigh he had building inside of him from the anticipation. He wiggled his free foot from its sock. Thankfully, no blisters, but a day on his feet in heavy work boots had left its effect. Hopefully Toki was in a limo mood today, and not a walking and exploring one.

“Wants some helps?”

Magnus was busy working the second boot when a hand entered his vision, sliding over his own. Soft, large and warm. Toki’s hands. Magnus’s eyes widened at the sight of Toki fingers sliding over his, reaching for the laces and somehow undoing the knot with graceful ease. Magnus uttered a single complaint, a noise that suggested shame for being caught in a moment of weakness, but quickly gave in to watch Toki near him, yank off the second boot and then bring his hands to cup and hold Magnus by the heel. Another, gentler yank, and cold air washed over his afflicted foot. A finger glided down the sole, and Magnus flinched. It wasn’t the tickle, but the irritating flash of pain that racked up the foot, raced up his leg and added to the collective pain settled in his lower back.

Toki’s eyes fixed on his reaction. “Oh, wowee. Magnus, what did you and your pals do all days? Runs around in circles?”

“Something like that,” Magnus said, eye wincing right as Toki began squeezing his arch. He bit his tongue, keeping as straight a face as he could. Was this happening? Was Toki aware of what he was doing?

“Oh? Tell Tokis?”

Another controlled squeeze suggested so. Magnus had had the pleasure of dealing with a playful Toki. A grabby Toki. This was not the same. This was two thumbs firmly pressed into sore muscles, massaging circles and breaking down tight knots built up from stress and overwork. This was another glimpse at a more mature Toki that Magnus had difficulty accepting, yet wanted to know better. Worst, this was yet another damn instance where he had messed up, and now Toki was forced to adjust. Well, not this time.

“In a bit. You said you wanted to catch a flick, right?” Magnus asked, then tried to retract his foot from Toki’s grip. “Let me put on a pair and we can talk on the way to my car. Or your limo.”

“Cans waits,” Toki declared, then gave Magnus’ foot another squeeze. This time, Magnus couldn’t stop a small shime from slipping past. The ache was pulsed up his ankle and leg, to his back. Feeling the building pressure, Magnus sank into the furniture. Let outstretched, Toki ran his hands up Magnus’ leg, taking ruddy work pants into his large hands. “Your foots ams swollen.”

“I know, man.”

Swollen feet was just the half of it. He had spent his entire day going from one part of the rehabilitation home, a good hour working in a garage without air conditioner, and another one hauling boxes of nonperishables from one shelf to another. He reeked, smelled like sweat, dust and tomato paste, and was willing to bet he looked as wretched as he felt. He should have stayed behind. He should have taken a shower, and been there at the door to greet Toki after a long flight.

“Magnus?” Toki said as he massaged the sensitive arch. The relief that spilled from the contact had Magnus gripping the pillow. He sighed, feeling the day’s events stretch out before him. Why did he push back his lunch break and take that shift? Why did he argue with the residents over petty shit like who had the right to the remote, or this week’s latest gossip magazine? Why did he try, when it always amounted to him being scolded for raising his voice, for snapping back, or getting frustrated?

Eyes on the ceiling, Magnus answered: “Yeah?”

“How was your day?”

And if he missed his original lunch break, then wouldn’t it make sense to just not get upset over him forgetting to clock out for a late lunch? It wasn’t like he was purposefully trying to break the rules. He was trying to be a team player, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered with missing his lunch, or helped clean the storeroom. And how was it none of these kids knew how to change a flat?

“Magnus?”

A sigh. “I’ll be real with you, dude: it’s not as exciting as you think.”

“So? Cames to sees you.”

It sounded so small, so sad, that Magnus tore from his silent tribulations to check on Toki. The massage continued, still solid and firm, but Toki’s head hung a little low. Honey brown hair partly concealed a growing frown. Reclined in his seat, the pain in Magnus’ back had started to dull, but a new pain bubbled up his throat as he watched Toki’s bottom lip start to push out. The poor kid was just trying to create small talk, and here he was doing everything in his power to avoid a conversation.

If only he had anything worth talking about.

Magnus pulled himself into a seated position, letting his feet drop to the floor. The pain returned, but Magnus didn’t mind. Feet now hanging, he reached and took Toki’s now freed hands into his.

“You came to have fun,” he stated, watching Toki’s brows and slightly parted mouth go crooked.

“No. Toki cames to be with you,” he insisted, then rubbed his thumbs into Magnus’ tired palms. That, too, was a relief. “Ams not doing that rights now?”

Such kind words. Magnus found little reason to accuse Toki of being deceitful, but refused to accept that after a long flight, Toki was perfectly fine with spending and evening cooped up inside of a drafty apartment, rubbing his feet while he bitched and moaned about his stupid day.

He let out a heavy, staggered sigh. “Toki, you can’t tell me you’re fine with sitting and listening to me complain about my shitty day.”

So, stupid. Why the hell did he stay behind to help with the storeroom? He could be out right now, out with Toki at some loud club. How long had Toki waited for him? He’d been so selfish, thinking only about himself, that he failed to ask when he finally arrived. He owed Toki a nice evening. Toki came to have fun, to explore the rest of Phoenix and get lost in the canyons.

A hand lifted him by the chin. In front of him, Magnus watched Toki’s face inch close, until there was nothing for him to do but meet the younger man in the eyes.

“Cant’s have fun if you ams in pains,” Toki replied softly. His thumb rolled across Magnus’ bristly chin, coaxing a reaction. Hesitantly, Magnus drew forward, closing the gap. A pain nestled in his chest as he brought his lips to meet Toki. Another hand, wrapped around his lower waist and back, melted it away. “Remembers, we ams boyfriends now,” Toki said as they parted, “So… let’s Toki helps. I’ll fix your foots, and you can tell me abouts your day, okays?”

The word hung high, alien and sounding so juvenile compared to what Manus had grown accustomed to. But upon hearing it, he couldn’t help but chuckle, letting his face burn a little with surprise that Toki would excitedly point it out, use it as a weapon against him to show that he cared.

“Fine,” he answered stiffly and, after allowing himself a second to relax, added, “yeah.”

Toki fidgeted, excited by the agreement. Already, Magnus’ legs were in the process of gliding back up to the cushions when Toki grabbed and lifted his left by the heel. Caught off-guard, Magnus slipped and fell back into the stiff cushions. The rough bounce awakened every sore part of his body, and with it, today’s memories. Tender fingers rolled over his tired muscles, and while Magnus stared up at the slow moving ceiling fan, felt the entire weight of the day start to crush him.

Above, Toki’s voice rang clear. “So, where does you wanna start?”

Magnus blinked. A warm sting burned at the edge of his eyes.

“…my supervisor’s a dick.”

#magtok #hammertooth #toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #lampmeeting #foot rubs #lots of talking #Magnus being stubborn #not betad #totally not inspired by real events

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jokertrap-ran · 4 years

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(未定事件簿) 莫弈 SSR [心悬一线] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi SSR [Heart hanging by a Thread] Card Story Translations (Part 2)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *You can hear the absolute fear in his voice when he yells “Careful!!” *Mo Yi: shookf. jpg

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Video Call

Location: Forest

Time ticked on, but Mo Yi hadn't come back at all.

The birds that had been singing had already tapered off, and the woods felt so cold and unwelcoming that it was depressing.

Ji Tang, who hadn't talked in a long while, finally grew impatient from all the waiting.

Ji Tang: How long have we been waiting here?

MC: Probably not all that long…

Ji Tang: That's not possible. How about you take a look at the time?

MC: Maybe over an hour…?

Ji Tang: It's already been that long!?

Ji Tang: If you guys had agreed to support me on the way back to the Camp earlier, we might have already gotten there by now!

MC: Please calm down, Miss Ji. We don't know the extent of your injuries, so it'll be risky if you move so rashly like that.

MC: Even if you do manage to walk, the soil is wet, and it'll be pretty difficult for all three of us to trudge through it together.

MC: It's time-consuming and also energy-consuming. So…

I hadn't yet finished speaking when she cut in again.

Ji Tang: So, you think I'm a burden; someone who'd slow you down!?

Ji Tang: Haha! Does that Doctor think the same too?

MC: No, Miss Ji. That is not what we think of you.

Ji Tang: The both of you intend to leave me behind!

Ji Tang: Did you guys come to the realization that you'd only be wasting your breath by saving someone like me, after finding out that I had no valuable possessions on me!?

The more she talked, the more suspicious she got. I interrupted her, a little annoyed.

MC: If so, then why didn't we take the opportunity to blackmail you before we pulled you up here, to safety?

MC: And why, then, would I even be staying here to accompany you?

Ji Tang: You might not think of it this way, but who knows! Maybe the Good Doctor does!

Ji Tang: Maybe he didn't want to take you along either, so he took this opportunity to shake himself free of you! Don't think that that Doctor's all so noble himself!

Despite knowing that whatever Ji Tang had just said was the result of her letting her emotions get the better of herself, I was still ticked off by it.

MC: Miss Ji, you can choose not to believe me.

MC: But don't you dare paint Dr. Mo in such a bad light! He's not that sort of person!

I never once took her scathing words towards me to heart. But hearing her speak of Mo Yi in this manner sounded like unbearable grating on the ear.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Mo's Mental Health Research Centre

MC: Dr. Mo, whenever you encounter unreasonable Patients who misunderstand you, do you…

Recently, another Doctor had been injured by a Patient that had refused to listen to reason.

The Doctor-patient contradiction had once again made it into the Hot Search, causing disputes from both parties involved.

Mo Yi: Are you trying to ask me if I feel angry or hurt?

MC: You can forget I ever asked about it if you don't want to talk about it!

I saw the smile he had on his face up till earlier cool a few degrees, instantly regretting ever having asked him this question for a moment in passing.

Mo Yi: I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel the least bit unsettled by it.

Mo Yi: No one can stand being misunderstood and still face the other party with a smile on their face.

Mo Yi: But I am a Doctor, so I have my own professional ethics.

Mo Yi: No matter what the Patient thinks of it, as a Doctor, we still have to think about their Medical Condition.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Ji Tang: Since you trust him so much, then how about you wait here for him alone!?

Her shrill cry cut my memory short as she reached out for one of the many outstretching tree roots, using it to attempt standing. But she didn't manage to take a couple of steps before she fell heavily back down with a thud.

Ji Tang: AHH! My leg...it hurts!!

She lied on the forest ground, both hands grasping at her leg as she let out a heart-wrenching scream.

The wound that had already been torn open once re-opened, oozing blood.

MC: Still want to leave?

Ji Tang: No... Not anymore…

Ji Tang: My wound hurts so badly...why is it bleeding non-stop like that? ...I'm so dizzy…

The attitude she took on after having her wound clot over and thus forgetting the pain really gave me a headache. I sighed as I got up to leave.

Ji Tang: Are...Are you leaving!? Don't go!

MC: You don't believe me and neither do you keep to your own promises, so what good will I be here?

Ji Tang: Don't go! I was wrong! I shouldn't have suspected you! I was wrong about you, so don't leave!!

MC: Don't move anymore. I don't have any alcohol or bandages in my bag.

MC: I'll go look for medical supplies nearby. You stay here and wait for me.

I ignored her cries and left in silence.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

According to my previous discussions with Mo Yi, there was a higher possibility of there being supplies near the bridge.

I took out a small knife and marked the trees along the way as I searched, heading straight for the bridge that connected the two Mountains.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

On the other side, the Communicator's line finally went through.

Mo Yi: Yes, the injured is unable to move and requires to be carried away on a stretcher.

Mo Yi: I cannot stay in Camp to wait for your arrival. I have a companion to return to.

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: I know. Can you see my Communicator's current location?

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: Alright. Then please send a Rescue Team to my current location now. I will leave marks to notate the rest of the route. Please follow the marks and make your way over.

After ending the call, he dashed back towards the direction of the Mountain Slope…

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Forest

I never saw the bridge no matter how far I walked, and neither did I hear the sound of water. I was starting to suspect that I had gone off in the wrong direction.

MC: ……

MC: Why aren't I there yet…?

I unfolded the map and calculated the distance again based on the scale.

MC: Logically speaking, I should have already reached my destination, based on my calculations…

MC: I can't be lost now, can I…?

Lifting my head, I looked at the lush woods ahead of me at a loss when Mo Yi's figure suddenly flashed across my mind.

MC: If it were him, what would he do?

MC: No, he'll never let himself end up in such a position.

MC: No, I can't get upset now. He said before that you must remain calm even in times of hopelessness.

Taking a deep breath, I tried my hardest to cheer myself back up

MC: I followed the compass and headed in the direction it pointed me to all the way, so I should be correct… I should go further up ahead and check.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Forest

I didn't know how long I had been walking, but the woods were gradually getting brighter and brighter. I could see a bridge from a distance away.

I ran towards it in excitement.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

A wide, rushing river had cut off the path between the two Mountains. A slender Suspension Bridge hung over it.

The bridge was long. So long, that the other end was hidden among the dense trees. I couldn't see the end of the road that led to the opposite side. Upon closer inspection, I could see something in the middle of the bridge.

MC: A Supply Box!

I breathed a sigh of relief as joy flooded me from having finally found the supplies. After significantly calming down from my monumental bout of excitement, I keenly observed the bridge in front of me.

The Suspension Bridge looked a little old, it's wood planks already starting to turn black.

I tried to make the thickest rope away with my hands, but it didn't budge at all.

MC: It looks old, but it's still holding up rather strong.

MC: Hm? This is…

There were two sturdy wooden stakes at the end of the bridge. I brushed aside the plants that covered the sign and saw what had been carved on them.

MC: This is...the Organizer's logo!

MC: This means that this bridge should have been specially reinforced for this Treasure Hunt…

MC: Not to mention that the Staff placed supplies on the bridge itself, which means it should be safe enough.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

When Mo Yi returned back to where he had left them, he only saw Ji Tang, sitting alone under the tree.

Mo Yi: !!!

Mo Yi: Where did she go?

Ji Tang: Oh, Dr. Mo! She...she…!

She hung her head in anguish, rubbing her non-existent tears away with her hands.

Ji Tang: Dr. Mo, my wound...it re-opened again...

He glanced down at her wound, but ignored her, instead, looking around intently, searching.

After a while, he determined the direction of the woods he was to be heading in and dashed off into its depths.

Ji Tang: Eh? Dr. Mo! Don't leave me alone!

Her cries failed to stop him, and his silhouette disappeared into the woods within seconds.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Forest

After ensuring that the Suspension Bridge was secure enough, I carefully stepped onto it.

It was stable at the start as I proceeded a step at a time, holding tightly onto the rope that held it upwards. However, the closer I got to the middle, the more it shook and the more I felt as if I was floating in the air.

The rushing sound of water under the bridge filled my ears along with the creaking of the wooden boards as it rubbed against the rope.

MC: ……

MC: Don't be scared...don't be scared...

I gripped the rope tightly in my hands, but I could find my own center of gravity.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the Mountains. The bridge seemed to sway even more and leaned closer to the river itself.

I couldn't help but to cast a look down at my feet where the river swirled. It looked like it'd suck me in and swallow me whole.

MC: Oh no... what do I do... I'm usually not scared of heights...

Unwillingly, I did something that I'd never expected; I looked down the bridge again.

It was only then, that I realized that the height at which the bridge was suspended in the sky was much higher than I had initially calculated.

MC: No, no way...

I shook my head, mentally telling myself repeatedly that I won't fall... but I still couldn't shake off that instinctive fear I had of falling.

The feeling of dizziness hit me, and it felt like all my energy had been sapped from my being, rendering me unable to take another step.

MC: Mo Yi...

???: (Y/n)! Hold onto the rope and don't move!

A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice rang out, filling my ears. I turned my head and saw Mo Yi's figure by the bridge.

Mo Yi: Don't make any rash movements, I'll go over at once!

I was greeted by his familiar, but flustered face.

MC: Mo Yi…? Is it really you…?

MC: Am I that scared...that I'm seeing illusions now?

I was a little dazed as I stood there, rooted to my spot, unable to tell the difference between illusion and reality.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Mo Yi checked the Suspension Bridge before walking cautiously upon it, reaching me within moments.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

His hair was a little disheveled, with a couple of strands stuck to his forehead from the sweat.

Gone, was the usual cool and calm he had in his eyes. Instead, what reflected within was something of a rare surprise.

Mo Yi: Can you still stand?

MC: Mo Yi...it really is you!

Hearing my shaky voice, a smile lit up within those anxious golden eyes.

Mo Yi: Yes, it's me; I'm here.

It was almost as if all the waiting though the long winter had ended, and I welcomed the first ray of sunshine on the New Year. My fear gradually dissipated, and the strength slowly returned back to my body, bit by bit.

MC: I'm… I'm good.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

I took a deep breath, slowly loosening my death-grip on the rope and stood up once more.

A faint fragrance hit my nose. A unique scent that belonged to Mo Yi alone.

He was standing behind me, a hand on my waist.

Mo Yi: Watch your feet. These wooden planks look pretty old.

I could hear the sound of a heart thumping by my ear, but I couldn't tell if it was mine or why it was speeding all so intently.

MC: I...

The fragrance that lingered around him seemed stronger than usual, amplified by his warm body.

Suddenly, a crack sounded. It sounded like a wooden plank breaking, snapping me right out of my thoughts.

MC: !!!

Mo Yi: Careful!

I didn't have time to react, only feeling that the ground beneath me had disappeared, losing my balance and falling forwards.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

But I didn't fall. Mo Yi's warm and sturdy arms had wrapped themselves around my waist, pulling me tightly against him.

MC: Ngh…

A sharp pain seared through me. My calf had been torn open by the broken bridge.

I hurriedly gathered my strength and stood back up, but Mo Yi's hands remained on my waist. He didn't let go.

Mo Yi: Are you alright?

Realizing that there was a slight tremor in his voice, I quickly forced out a smile to comfort him.

MC: I'm fine! I'm fine! I just never thought that the plank would break. That really scared me!

I didn't tell him about the injury since I remembered that we were both still atop the Suspension Bridge and that our surroundings weren't exactly safe. But Mo Yi, who was beside me, didn't respond, and the air stagnated for a while.

I could feel the hand he had on my waist trembling slightly through my clothes.

MC: I'm already fine now, Dr. Mo… Don't worry about it.

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: I regret…

MC: What are you talking about?

Mo Yi: Nothing…

He slowly retracted his hand from my waist, almost as if he had suddenly realised that it was still there.

Mo Yi: Sorry, I panicked.

Mo Yi: I'll bring you back.

MC: But we still haven't gotten the Supply Box…

Mo Yi: I'll bring you back first, then I'll come back down to fetch it alone.

Mo Yi: It looks like this bridge isn't all that safe. It'll be better if I'm the only one walking atop it rather than us both.

Seeing his insistence on the matter, it wouldn't be good if I'd pressed on. I was the one who had been way too scared to walk the Suspension Bridge earlier, after all.

MC: (It'll only seem like I don't know my own limits if I insist on fetching that Supply Box on my own now.)

MC: Since this bridge isn't safe, then you shouldn't be going onto it either. Let's look for one somewhere else.

Mo Yi: Alright. Let's go back first.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Mo Yi held tightly onto my hand all the way back in case another accident happened.

The swaying Suspension Bridge suddenly didn't seem all so scary anymore, for some reason.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

I felt more secure than I'd ever had in my entire life the moment I stepped foot back onto solid ground.

MC: We're finally back on solid ground! If you hadn't rushed here when you did, I think I might have been stuck there, unmoving, for the entire day.

Mo Yi: Wait here for me for a while, I'll go get the Supply Box.

MC: Huh? But didn't we just agree that…

Mo Yi: Are you injured?

Although it had been posed as a question, the tone he used was one of confidence.

MC: And I've been found out again, haven't I…

Mo Yi: Would you have not told me about it if I didn't realize?

His tone was slightly cold, making me hang my head slightly in shame like a kid that just got scolded.

MC: Sorry…

Mo Yi: I'm not blaming you.

Mo Yi: Don't worry. The Organizer has specially reinforced this bridge so there should be no problems.

Mo Yi: Plus, your wound can't be left untreated like that.

Not waiting for me to voice my protest, he headed straight for the Suspension Bridge once more.

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

#Tears of Themis #Mo Yi #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #心悬一线 #Heart hanging by a Thread #消失的黄金 #The Lost Gold #Tears of a Psychiatrist

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1: Honeymoon

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

...in which Y/N and Harry go to Greece for their honeymoon and run into a couple they hate.

Warning: a bit of smut, sex jokes, overusing curse words because I’m a sailor, cheeky Harry, drunk Y/N, adorably aggressive Y/N, protective Harry, aaaaaand you might want to slap some fictional characters.

Word count: 6.7k

Wattpad book

A/N: Wait no more folks, your beloved couple are FINALLY BACK! Tell me what you think about the chapter. - Allie.

"Kalosirthate stin Ellada!"

"Danke schön!" Harry waved at the doorman who gave him a weird look as he dragged his luggage into the resort lobby. Y/N tugged at his arm, covering her mouth so she wouldn't laugh too hard and draw even more attention to them.

"You just said 'thank you very much' in German, H!"

"Wasn't what he said in German?"

"He said 'welcome to Greece' in Greek because we're in Greece! Why would a staff in a Greek resort speak German?!"

When seeing how amazed he was, Y/N could't help but chuckle as she interlocked their fingers, flashing him a cheeky grin. "I may or may not have done a bit of research."

"Aww, my wife's gonna be my little translator on this trip."

"Your wife only knows 'good morning' and 'good night' so you're not so lucky, Mr. Styles," she said, tip-toeing to peck his lips, but he was quick to lock one arm around her waist to kiss her passionately. That kiss could've turned into a full make out session if she hadn't come to her senses and pushed him away.

"Can you be horny later when we're alone?"

Her pink cheeks made Harry snort in amusement. He ran his hand up and down her back to rest dangerously close to her bum, which looked extra good in this vintage dress, he must say. "We're married. People know we fuck."

"We do, just not in the resort lobby after arriving only five minutes ago," she told him, rolling her eyes.

With his arm wrapped around her, they headed towards the front desk for the check-in procedures and finally received their keys. That moment was by far the happiest they'd ever been since their wedding night. After all, they were on their romantic honeymoon, on a beautiful island in Greece, and they were gonna be there for an entire week, just the two of them. It almost seemed like nothing could go wrong.

Almost.

"Harold?!"

When Harry heard that voice he thought he was hallucinating. But as the voice got louder and more annoying, causing all the other guests as well as the staff to stare at him. He knew it was real.

"Honey?" His wife mumbled, she was also rooted to her spot. "Did you hear that or was it just me?"

"Oh God...I heard it too..." He sucked in a breath, turning around slowly as she did the same. Of all the annoying people he'd come across in his entire life up to this point, it just had to be his mortal enemy — his cousin Mason.

Despite Harry's hostile glare, the older Styles was beaming. "What a lovely coincidence! Are you two on honeymoon?"

"Are you here to ruin my life?"

The question made Mason chuckle. "You're still funny, Harold. Still funny. I'm actually on a summer vacation with my baby girl. Oh, there she is, my flower!"

"Sweet cheeks! My baby!"

"I think I'm gonna throw up..." Y/N whispered to her husband, receiving a smirk from him.

Stephanie showed up, wearing the biggest hat that covered half of her face as she strutted towards the three of them in her yellow summer dress. She'd left all of her heavy luggage to the poor resort staff, who nearly got hit in the head by her throwing her handbag at him.

"The other Styles!" She giggled, finally taking off her hat to pull the other couple into a hug. If Harry hadn't pushed her away, who knew how long she would've kept squeezing them? "We missed your wedding! I think your invitation got lost in the mail!"

"Bold of you to think we sent you one."

Y/N quickly nudged Harry as she chuckled nervously. "It's alright, Steph...We also missed your wedding so..."

"We'll come to your second ones!"

Stephanie and her husband both fell about laughing at her rude joke. The kind of looks Harry and Y/N exchanged at that moment couldn't be more obvious that they'd rather set themselves on fire than continue this dumb conversation. They were just too nice (or at least Y/N was) to say 'fuck off' and walk away.

"We're going to our room now," Y/N said, holding Harry's arm. "Nice talking to you."

"Bye Harry! Bye Y/N!"

Y/N heard Stephanie loud and clear but she didn't look back and just stride as fast as possible towards the lift.

"See you tonight at the bar, Harold!"

Harry, on the other hand, responded to his cousin with a middle finger in the air, and once again Y/N had to tug at his sleeve to tell him to be polite.

"Such a funny kid," Mason told his wife with a grin, before heading to the front desk.

The newlyweds' first day on the island wasn't so bad, minus the encounter with the other annoying couple that they hated more than Mondays. They got to spend a lot of time together soaked in the sun and the golden sand, and not thinking about the responsibilities they had back in London. As busy as they were with their own jobs, they rarely had time to have fun like they used to back when they were students. Now was the one chance for them to try everything they hadn't done before.

"I hope nearly fucking your husband on the beach while being drunk off your ass was on your bucket list." Harry laughed as he dragged his wife out of the lift, and struggled to get the room card from his pocket while she was clinging onto him like a koala.

Normally, he would stop her from drinking too much. He always knew she could barely handle alcohol, but since they were on vacation, he made it an exception and let her do whatever she wanted. As a result, she was wasted and he was exhausted from making sure she didn't cause any trouble. His wife was a fun drunk, but every time she drank too much, it was always hard work for him. He had to make sure she didn't walk straight into a lamppost, get hit by a car for dancing on the street, or take off her clothes in public because she thought they were alone.

"I hate you," she mumbled, shoving two fingers in his face as he opened the door. "Two days into our marriage...and you already don't want to have sex with me anymore!"

"Sure if you didn't count those two orgasms earlier." Harry laughed quietly. He just loved having silly conversations with her while she was not in her right mind to make any sense.

With a bit of difficulty, he shut the door after they'd got in, and somehow managed to put her down on their bed. That was when Y/N started giggling like a madwoman, watching her husband stand with both hands on his hips and a confused grin on his face.

"Hubby, come give me a kiss!" She tried to open her eyes to look at him, but they were fighting to stay shut, so she just opened her arms and gave him a silly grin. Harry took off her shoes as well as his own, then fell down onto the bed right by her side. He propped himself up on his elbow, pressing his lips to her temple.

"No! A real kiss!" Y/N pouted. She didn't wait for his reaction to grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him hard on the mouth. Harry was a bit shocked considering how shy Y/N was most of the time. Actually, she'd gained much more confidence after that many years they'd been together. But shyness was just her nature, and he loved that about her.

Only when she'd had a couple drinks did she get this bold. This was certainly not the first time, but Harry didn't think he could ever grow used to it. Soon he was right between her legs, one hand supporting his own weight as the other held her by the hip. Her black dress rose up to reveal the black lace underwear he'd got for her. He intended to make a cheeky comment about it, yet she was already unbuttoning his shirt.

"Baby, you're really drunk," he whispered against her lips, chuckling lowly as she groaned like a spoiled little girl who didn't get the pony she asked for.

"We're not on the beach anymore," she reasoned, eyebrows furrowed at him and opened his shirt to get her hands on his bare chest.

"Jesus Christ, baby. Greece really does make you horny, huh?"

"You make me horny."

Harry was taken aback for the second time that night, not only by her confidence but also by her flipping them over to straddle him. He tried to speak, yet she covered his mouth with her own, pressing both hands on his chest, pushing him down.

"Baby, I—"

She shushed him immediately. Holding his gaze, she moved slowly downward, wasting no time to pull down his shorts and wrapped her hands around his pulsing member. A growl escaped his throat as he shuddered at the feeling of her hot breath against him. When she gave him a slight squeeze, his hips buckled up, urging her to give him more. He was leaking and desperate for her touch, definitely not in the position to call it quit at this point.

"I've got you in the palm of my hand," she said in a sing-song voice. "Literally."

The sound of her name escaped his pink lips in a breathy tone. When he saw the way her pupils dilate even in the dim moonlight from their balcony door, he knew he was fucked.

"I've been a good girl." Fuck. "Let me suck you off, please?" Fuck. Me.

Harry exhaled harshly, too out of his mind to even think straight as he stroked her hair. "Y-Yes...yes, you are...Fuck..."

She nodded, finally giving him a few slow strokes. Harry's eyes squeezed shut in an instant as his entire face contorted. He was afraid this would end so quickly that her forgetting all about tonight might seem like a good thing. Just as he was about to ask her to go faster, a loud thump! caused Y/N to sit up straight, eyes just as wide as his. The bed in the room next door was violently banging against the wall, as the couple over there didn't make an effort to keep it down.

"Fuck yeah, baby! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

"What the fuck is...that?" A look of terror flashed across Harry's face when he made eye-contact with a giggly Y/N. She had no idea what was going on, but everything was hilarious to her when she was drunk. As much as he wanted to ignore that horny couple to go back to his own business, he couldn't even think with all the noises those people were making. In a second, he sat up and tucked himself back inside his shorts, pecking Y/N's lips as he told her he would go talk to them.

"No." She shook her head, hands on his shoulders. "Stay with me, Harry...I need you."

Harry's self-control unraveled when she moaned his name that way. Nodding fast, he attached their mouths once again as she cupped his cheeks and kissed him with everything she'd got. He tried to focus on her, he really did, until he heard the name of the last person he wanted to think of when he was about to have sex with his wife.

"Mason! Yes, that's right baby!"

"No, no, non no!" Harry cried out, pulling away immediately. Though Y/N wasn't sober enough to get disgusted by the other two, she still agreed to get off her husband and follow him outside. As he knocked on the room next door, she hugged him from behind and rested her head on his back. Drunk Y/N always got a bit clingy, and Harry loved it actually. If only he could pay attention to her and take care of her instead of having to deal with his fucked up cousin.

When he knocked a couple more times, it was Stephanie who came to open the door, wearing only her lingerie. Harry had to stare at the ceiling while silently thanking god that the woman wasn't naked.

"Oh, Harry and Y/N! What a surprise! We were just—"

"Yes, we know. Please stop," he spoke fast, leaving Stephanie speechless. She parted her smudged red lips to say something, but then Mason showed up, unlike his wife, he was completely naked under his white bathrobe which wasn't even tied at the front.

Harry immediately covered Y/N's eyes, dashing his own back on Mason's face so he wouldn't have to look at that thing for another second. Y/N might've seen it too because she was trying so hard to contain her laughter.

"Put your dick away, for fuck's sake!"

"Sorry, I forgot," said the older man who quickly tied the strings together to cover himself up.

Stephanie gave the other couple one last glance before telling Mason she'd wait for him in bed. Harry really wished he could listen to those words without thinking about the thing he'd heard earlier in his room. How was he gonna sleep tonight if that was what he might wake up to?

"Can we talk?" he narrowed his eyes at Mason. It was clear he was losing his temper, but he was still trying to be as nice as he possibly could. Because treat people with kindness right? Yeah, people, not Mason. Fuck Mason.

"Wait for me inside, love," Harry said to his wife, who pouted yet listened to him anyway.

"Don't take too long," she told him before retreating to their room. Harry watched the door close behind her as he heaved a sigh. This conversation wouldn't have been necessary if he could've just punched the asshole. But on second thought, he shouldn't waste a good hit on someone like him.

"What the fuck was this?" Harry asked, throwing his hands in the air. "I get that you always feel the need to prove that you're better than me, but to book the same fucking resort, and the room right next to mine just to piss me off is what only a psychopath would do!"

"You self-centered prick." Mason scoffed, leaning against the door. "You really think everything I do is about you?"

Harry lifted his eyebrow. "I don't think. I know everything you do is because you cannot stand the fact that Y/N and I are happier than you and Steph."

"Oh please. The last thing I worry about is you being better than me at anything."

"The next time you say that, make sure to keep your tiny friend covered." Harry didn't even bother to stay and see his cousin's reaction to the comment. He stormed back to his room, hoping Mason would get insecure enough to keep the noise down when they—

"Y/N?" Harry asked, but there was not a single sound except for his wife's soft snoring as she was now sprawling across their bed. It'd be a lie to say he was disappointed, but seeing her adorable sleeping face really made him happy again. In silence, he lied down by her side, trying not to cause too much movement and wake her up.

"You forgot to say you love me tonight, drunkie." His eyelids fluttered from exhaustion as he watched Y/N smiling in her sleep. Even though he couldn't read her mind, he'd like to think that it was him she was dreaming about. So while stroking her hair the way she liked, he mumbled to her what he never forgot to say every night before bed. "You're my entire world, and I really love you."

Then he drifted off gradually.

The next morning, as expected, Y/N barely remembered anything.

"Beside me talking to a palm tree..." she cringed, trying to recollect the night before, but all that she could remember was asking Harry to dance with her on the beach. "Did I do anything else embarrassing?"

"You tried to tear off my clothes and begged to suck me off," said Harry as he took a sip of his orange juice, flashing her a subtle smirk when her face reddened, certainly not because of the heat out here. What was better than having breakfast by the ocean, feeling the cool breezes on a hot summer day, and poking fun at your wife for the silly things she did when she was drunk? He was having the best morning.

"I remember that..." She mumbled, stealing a glance at him while his eyes were glued on her.

"You what?"

"Not everything...only a bit."

Harry raised an eyebrow when she pouted at him. He knew she wanted him to change the subject, but he enjoyed teasing her too much to let her off that easily.

"You weren't this shy when you literally asked me to fuck you on the beach last night." He chuckled, making her blush even harder as she kicked his leg under the table.

"There are children around here! They might hear you!"

Now that she mentioned, Harry looked around and noticed a family of four sitting right beside them. The parents were too caught up in their own conversation to hear what he was saying, and the child around four was singing while playing with her action figures. Harry's laughter died down soon, yet the smile lingered on his face when the little girl saw him looking and waved at him. He waved back, feeling his heart flutter somehow.

Y/N didn't see what was going on as she was texting this whole time. She had to give her mother updates on basically everything she'd been doing (beside her getting drunk and them having sex every single chance they got), because to her mother apparently, she'd stopped growing since the age of fourteen.

"What?" Y/N flinched to meet her husband's eyes when she turned back to him. He was just smiling at her in silence with his chin resting on his knuckles. She couldn't figure out what that meant. "Is there something on my face?"

"Beauty." His unexpected answer got her laughing.

"See? This is why I don't believe in your compliments anymore." She rolled her eyes and told him to eat since they had some sightseeing to do later. Harry didn't mind his breakfast getting cold though. His eyes stayed on Y/N, watching her slightly nodding her head to the song on the vintage radio at the bar. His lips curved to form a little grin.

He didn’t tell her what was on his mind when the kid at the other table waved at him. They had agreed to wait another year or two before making the big decision. Right now, they couldn’t spend much time with their cat let alone a human baby. But Harry thought it wouldn’t hurt to just imagine a new life with not only the two of them, but also little versions of them running around the house. He really looked forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, somehow they managed to stay away from Mason and Stephanie and had the best time of their life exploring the island. Thus they assumed their second day here would continue to be this great. What they forgot was that, every time they drew a conclusion this early, they ended up with at least one disappointing surprise towards the end.

"Harold."

"Jesus Christ," Harry muttered as he turned away from the bar and gave his cousin a death glare. "Do I need to file a restraining order?"

Normally Y/N would remind him to tone down his feelings of hatred, but after last night (Harry had filled her in on everything that she didn't remember) it was hard to continue being nice. She was just trying her best not to laugh at how offended both Mason and Stephanie seemed.

"I'm here to apologize actually. I hope we can forget what happened as we were all drunk anyway," Mason said, giving out his hand for Harry to shake. But instead of doing just that, Harry glanced at the hand, back to Mason's face. With a sarcastic smile, he straight off said, "no."

"No?"

"No, now leave us alone."

"Come on, Harold. You cannot blame me for what happened to your father's company."

Harry squinted his eyes as soon as he heard. "What are you talking about?"

Mason and Stephanie exchanged looks as if they were also surprised that Harry had no clue about his father's decision. Quickly, Stephanie grabbed Y/N by the arm, pulling the perplexed young woman out of her chair.

"Come swim with me, Y/N!"

"No, thanks. I...can't swim," Y/N muttered, turning to her husband for help, but he was too busy staring at his cousin in disbelief to notice her.

"Just come with me, so they can talk," Stephanie insisted. She didn't even give Y/N time to say no and just dragged her out of the restaurant anyway. It was then that Harry finally got a grip on reality. He shifted in his chair, eyebrows furrowed as he asked Mason to explain everything.

"Devlin's gonna sell Styles Corporation. I gave him that idea."

"Wait, what?" Harry's mouth fell open. Mason, on the other hand, sat down and ordered a beer as he remained impassive. Harry completely understood that Mason had nothing to do with Styles Corporation, thus it was normal for him to not feel anything. What made Harry angry, was the fact that Mason had suggested Devlin to sell the brainchild he probably loved more than his real ones.

"He's sacrificed a lot to build his own empire from scratch! You can't just convince him to sell it!" Harry slammed his hand onto the counter, receiving a few questioning glances from the other people, yet he was too upset to care.

"You think my opinion alone could get your old man to sell the company?" Mason snorted. "It's Devlin we're talking about here."

"Then why—"

"He cannot run it forever, Harold. Your sister is a travel photographer, you were his only hope until you turned on him at the last minute. What choice does he have left?"

Harry's heart fell as he heard those words. He hadn't expected that news, especially for it to come from his least favorite person on the planet. Though he was still mad at Devlin for choosing the company over his own son, and not showing up at the wedding over saying sorry, he honestly felt bad for the fate of Styles Corporation. It obviously was a stab in the guts to hand everything you'd built up from the ground up to strangers. But what could Harry do to change it? He couldn't leave his wife here, or convince her to leave her job and move to San Francisco.

With his head in his hand, Harry began to ponder, which was the last thing he should do now that he was supposed to be on a vacation. Fuck everything, he thought. Fuck Mason for telling him this, for being here, and for existing. He blamed it on Mason because it was easier this way. He didn't have to face the music, knowing it was his own fault.

Y/N and Harry weren't strangers to bad luck, but this was a whole new level.

All she had wanted was a drama free honeymoon with the love of her life and to spend everyday under the sun or getting naked and tangling up in bed. Now here she was, taking Instagram photos for Stephanie by the resort pool, while Harry was probably being tortured by Mason boasting about things that nobody cared about.

"Shit, you're right. The lighting sucks," Stephanie mumbled in annoyance as she checked the photos on her phone.

Y/N really wanted to be frank and tell the girl only idiots would expect moonlight to look flattering on photos taken by an iPhone, but she thought it would be quite mean and decided to be subtly sarcastic instead.

"Maybe you should choose a better time when there's the sun?"

"I cannot stand too long in the sun, I get burnt easily," Stephanie chuckled, too busy staring at photos of herself to see that eye-roll Y/N had just given her.

"I think I should get back to my husband."

"Wait!" Stephanie took the girl's wrist before she could turn away, pulling her back. "Look, since we're kind of like sisters now—"

Fuck me, muttered the voice inside Y/N's head as she widened her eyes and faked a grin.

"I just wanna be honest with you." Stephanie took a deep breath, lifting an eyebrow. "Why Harry?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're kinda smart. You really wanna spend the rest of your life with someone like him?"

Excuse me?

"Harry is the smartest man I know."

And YOU shouldn't be judging him when you're the dumbest person I know.

"If he was so smart, he wouldn't have turned down an opportunity to be the future CEO of the Styles Corporation. Unlike Mason, he's a disappointment in the family."

"No. Mason got everything from pure luck. Harry, on the other hand, has worked hard for the things that he loves. He's got a career and a bright future, and I'm very proud of him." Y/N knew she shouldn't be fuming over the words of someone as shallow as Stephanie, yet she couldn't help but get all riled up when all of those insults were for her husband.

"How's he gonna take care of you and buy you nice clothes with his salary now?" Stephanie's argument made Y/N laugh, definitely not because it was funny.

"I have my own job and I can buy my own clothes." She furrowed her brows, stabbing a finger at the blonde who was slightly surprised by the reaction she received. "You, however, live off your husband because without him you are nothing. Face it, Steph, you're going nowhere with your non-existent model career."

"Excuse me?" Stephanie gasped. It was funny how offended she got after having said all those mean things about Harry earlier.

"Yeah, you heard me." This time, Y/N wouldn't give this woman the satisfaction she wanted. "Don't you ever talk shit about my husband again. Are we clear?"

"Oh you're threatening me?" The part-time model scoffed as she flipped her hair. "What are you gonna do? You think I'm scared of a weak little girl who cannot swim?"

"Well, I hope you can."

"What do you—AHHHHH!"

"Mom! That lady just pushed the other lady into the pool!"

Harry flew right out of his chair after hearing what the little girl said to her mother. He rushed outside in a flash, worrying it might be Y/N and Stephanie for he knew his cousin's wife was crazy as fuck. So if anything happened to—

"Honey?"

Yes, it was Y/N and Stephanie. But his wife was standing by the pool, dry and safe, while the other girl was screaming and struggling violently in the water like a drowning cat.

"You crazy bitch! You fucking psychopath! Get me out of here! Help! Anyone?!"

"Drop the act! This is a kiddie pool!" Y/N shouted at Stephanie as Harry gave his woman a smirk, looking shocked and proud at the same time. "Say those things about my husband again, and I'll push you off a cliff!"

Morally speaking, Harry should care about the fact that his wife had assaulted his cousin's wife, and all the other guests were judging them so hard right now. But all that he really cared about was how much seeing her like this turned him on. This was the first time he'd got to witness the protective side of Y/N, so fucking badass. And he was certainly not disappointed at all.

Go wifey!

"You okay, baby?"

"I'm fin—"

"Of course she's okay! She's a lunatic!" Stephanie screamed as she climbed out of the pool and Mason showed up with a towel to cover her up.

"What the fuck, mate?" He snarled at Harry, pointing at Y/N. "Your wife just threatened to push my wife off a cliff!"

"Oh please Mason, you two aren't saints." Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't know what those two expected, as if he hadn't thought of pushing one them off a cliff before.

"Come on, honey, let's go," said Y/N as she took her husband's hand and turned to walk away. It could've ended there, with no one getting hurt (besides Stephanie who was soaked from head to toes), but just as expected, Mason never wanted to miss a chance to say the last words.

"Your wife is bitch."

"What did you just say?"

"I said, your wife is a—" Mason was cut off by a fist in the face that knocked him to the ground. While everyone else who'd witnessed that punch was in utter shock, Harry had never felt better. He'd wanted to do that for his whole life.

Before Mason could pick himself up and wipe the blood off his nose, Harry and Y/N had already fled the scene. The last thing they wanted was to get into trouble for causing disruption. At first, Y/N was really scared though it wasn't the first time she'd seen Harry hit someone. But as soon as they made it to the beach, she started squealing in joy.

"That was amazing! I pushed her into the pool, and you punched him in the face! We're like the best couple ever!"

The way she was all giggly and bouncing up and down like a child made Harry laugh so hard. He took her hand and pulled her back into his arms. Hers came wrapped around his waist like an instinct.

"You're too happy for someone who just assaulted a woman," he said, stroking her cheeks to gain back a smile.

"Now I know why Layla does things like this! She'll be so proud of me when I tell her!"

"Oh no." Harry faked a frown. "Should I be worried that you're turning into Layla?"

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I only Layla for you." Her answer got him chuckling and shaking his head.

"She's gonna kill us both if she knows we're using her as a verb," he said, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "But thank you, for defending me."

"No one." Y/N narrowed her eyes as she emphasized those two words. "No one is allowed to make fun of my husband, beside me."

"Aww."

"Aaaand Layla, because you know, I'm afraid of her."

They held each other while laughing. It was nice for Harry to stop thinking about his father's company, and enjoying the presence of the woman he loved instead. They continued walking barefoot along the beach, listening to the lullaby of the waves, and breathing deeply the ocean carried air. It was romantic at first with the starry sky right above them. But all it took was one moment, when both of them stopped and just stared at each other, for their self-control to cave in at once.

The next thing they knew was them hiding in the shadow of a palm tree, she was pressed against the brick wall, with her legs wrapped around his waist, and her hands in his hair. His shorts were halfway down his ass and her panties were somewhere on the sand. She would definitely not put them back on after they were done.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Harry tried not to be rough, but he making sure every thrust was worthwhile. He dragged his lips down her jawline as she filled his ears with her angelic whimpers that he could never get tired of.

"I love you so much," he said, gripping her ass to move her hips in sync with his own.

"I love you too." She let a soft gasp escape when he hit just the right spot that caused her eyes to roll upward, and the sound of his name to pour out from her wet lips. She was too lost in the moment to care if anyone heard her. There was not a single soul around anyway, so Harry didn't bother to silence his wife, not when he loved how vocal she was just for him.

"Shit love...I..." He thrust faster, face contorted from pleasure. "Gonna come..."

"Fill me." Those breathless words and her grinding down on him to get him deeper was all it took for Harry to explode, groaning into her mouth as he felt her walls squeezing around him. Her eyes fell shut, her head tossed back, and now she couldn't stop whimpering meaningless words, the only thing that made sense was his name.

"We finally had sex on the beach, you happy?" He jokingly asked while still catching his breath, his hooded eyes stared right into hers.

"You're a dick," she said, smiling at the way his eyes sparkled in the dark like those stars right above them. That playful insult only made him chortle. He brought his mouth back on hers to kiss her tenderly.

"And also your husband, so you're stuck with this dick for the rest of your life," he spoke against her lips, causing her to dissolve into laughter. Harry temporarily forgot about the fate of his father's company, and the stress he felt thinking he was the reason for it. At this moment, there were only them and them alone, though he knew it couldn't be them forever. When this week was over they would have to return to their busy lives. So now he must hold her closer, not wanting another second to go to waste.

"Harry! Did you know that Niall almost lost Treasure when he took her to the mall with him?" Y/N said the second she showed up at their bedroom door with the cat in her arms. Harry had just finished getting dressed for work. He turned away from the mirror and flashed his wife a cheeky grin.

"Did Treasure tell you that?"

She snorted, rolling her eyes and put the cat down on their bed to come fix his collar. "Layla told me...We should let Ben and Nam watch Treasure next time we're away."

"Hmm." He nodded. It was then that she finally looked up and caught the way he was staring at her. Neither of them said a word. After many years under the same roof, they didn't have to speak to know what was on the other person's mind.

"You're worried again, aren't you?" She questioned, placing both hands on his shoulders. "I mean...if you wanna help your dad keep the company—"

"We've had this talk, love," he cut her off, seemingly displeased. "I don't want it."

When he kissed her on the cheek and attempted to go, she squeezed his arms to force his eyes back on her. She'd thought a lot about Stephanie's words, and maybe Stephanie was not entirely wrong. Of course she didn't want anything more from Harry, for he'd always been more than enough. Despite so she felt awful that he had to give up on such a great opportunity for her. If he'd never met her, maybe he would've been rich and much more successful than he was now. He would've been his own boss and driving nice cars and probably engaged to someone from a rich family. He could've had it all. The least she could do now as his wife was encourage him to do what was best for him.

"Love, just accept the job, I don't mind."

"I cannot leave you here and move to San Francisco." He chuckled, yet she seemed so serious and he knew it wasn't time to joke around.

"I'll come with you and...and find a new job there..."

Harry was paralyzed for a long moment when he heard those words. His wife, who'd loved her job more than anything, was willing to drop everything just so he could be the CEO his father expected him to be. And he knew it was all because she loved him and she blamed herself for what she thought he'd lost. The truth, however, was that he never needed anything more than her.

Harry pulled Y/N into his arms, one hand at the back of her head as he whispered into her ear, "let's not talk about this anymore, alright?"

"But—"

"You're not going to work today?" He changed the subject, knowing how easy it was for her to get distracted.

"Got a day off." Y/N pressed her lips into a smile as she picked up their cat and followed her husband to the front door. Since Harry was extremely forgetful, they always had to do the 'checklist' together every morning before leaving home.

"Umbrella?"

"Here."

"Phone?"

"Already in my bag."

"Car key?"

Harry flinched when he stuck his hand into his coat pocket and couldn't find the key. The frantic look on his face made his wife laugh as she handed it to him.

"You left it by the sink...again," she said, resulting in a smile of relief on his face.

"You're the best. Love you!"

"Hold on!" She called out when he was about to leave. "Forgetting something else?"

He shot her a look of confused, until she lifted her face and pointed to her lips, eyes closed. With a smile, he didn't hesitate to walk back and kiss her goodbye.

"Okay, now you can go," she said, patting his cheek. "Have a great da—"

Y/N could barely finish her sentence when all of a sudden the door opposite from theirs creaked open. The couple nearly screamed as they saw who it was.

"Are you kidding me?!" Harry's eyes expanded to the point they could just fall out. "Why are you here?"

"This is my new place," said Mason, who looked just as pissed off. In all honesty, Y/N and Harry thought this was better than having to deal with his pretentious 'kindness'.

"Okay, you knew we lived here, asshole," Harry snarled at him. "You expect us to believe this is another coincidence?"

"You actually think we remembered your address and your flat number so we could get this flat because we're so obsessed with you?"

Y/N nodded fast. "Yeah, Mason, that's exactly what we think."

Harry threw his hands in the air, face screwed up as he turned to his wife. "What kind of shitty alternate universe is this?!"

"Why are you complaining? I'm the one with crazy neighbors here."

Harry turned a deaf ear to his cousin's insult. He would love to stay and start another fight, but he didn't want this asshole to be the reason he was late for work. He said goodbye to his wife, yet before leaving, he didn't forget to give Mason the finger and walked off without a second look back.

Y/N watched him go with heart eyes a wide smile on her face, while Mason could not look anymore irritated. That was when Stephanie showed up at the door, holding a yellow cat. The woman looked as shocked as her husband to see Y/N standing there. It was Treasure who broke the hostile silence. She meowed loudly, probably excited to see her new cat neighbor. But Stephanie didn't seem so fond of the idea of their two cats being friends. Giving Y/N a look of disgust, she told her pet, "Tiger, stop looking at that dirty creature. You might get eye cancer."

"Well, then I'm already blind from looking at you."

"You—"

Y/N walked in and slammed the door shut, not wanting to hear more from Stephanie. Now that they were alone and away from their evil new neighbors, she gave Treasure a stern look. "Do not associate with that family, you understand me?"

The car purred softly in response, and Y/N hoped the answer was yes.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles series #flatmate!harry #husband!harry

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themaskedwriter · 5 years

Text

Cutting it Close

Clues: I like to ‘do things’ ‘in the wild’, like surround myself with rainbow people! If I’m not writing I’m hosting yet another session of Dungeons and Dragons or taking care of My Drunk Roommate.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic! Tony Stark x Reader, Platonic! Sam Wilson x Reader, Platonic! Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Fluff all the way through

Summary: When you moved out to New York to escape a relationship and humdrum life, you had planned on getting a job working at a salon or barber shop. What you hadn’t planned on was getting a job at a barber shop at the foot of Avengers Tower and becoming the go-to for most of the team. You also hadn’t expected to catch the attention of Captain America’s baby blue eyes.

It was hard proving yourself as anything in New York City, the sprawling metropolis acting as the East Coast’s version of Los Angeles. Actors working as waitresses during the night so they could audition at Broadway and smaller theatre companies during the day, fashion designers swamping Mood fabrics with a raw hope of running into Tim Gunn and a camera crew; script writers, models, business start ups, writers, everyone swarmed this city. That didn’t even count the people who had grown up in this bustling nonsense and didn’t have the common sense to leave.

“I just don’t know how anyone can even afford to live in Brooklyn,” I lamented to my client as I raked a comb through the top of his hair.

The pompadour was back in style, high and tight shave on the sides with long sweeping locks on top held in place with way too much pomade. The only problem was guys these days didn’t want to have to put too much effort into styling their hair like they did back in the forties and fifties, hyper masculinity creeping in from the sixties and seventies when all the men wore their hair short and sensible following Korea and Vietnam.

“Unless you grew up there and have rent lock, you don’t,” the man laughed flipping a page of the newspaper he was reading.

Getting a job even working as a barber had been hard, most stylist and barbers out here got their license and job through apprenticing under an established owner and then received their job security that way. But I had to get as far away from my asshole ex as possible and there was no easier place to get lost than in a city that already had far too many people. I had gone into a lot of salons before finally a barber who was getting up there in age and low on staff decided to take a risk on a girl from some backwoods state.

“So where did you find to stay?” He asked in the sense that he didn’t care, he had just run out of small talk as I drug the straight razor along his nape to sharpen his outline.

“Small place in Greenwich Village. It seems like a good neighborhood so far,” I responded cheerily. I didn’t mention how every appliance I had didn’t seem to work, including my radiator which was starting to be more of a concern as the temperatures dropped. He didn’t want to hear my problems and I didn’t want him to think I was fishing for a larger tip. “All set, Mr. Conroy.”

I moved the mirror around behind him so he could look at the large one in front of him and see the back of his head to affirm that the neckline looked good and his cowlick was manageable. Paying his forty dollars for his cut and leaving me a five, I still managed to sell him a puck of the pomade I used before wishing him a good rest of his day and turning to clean up my station.

It was just me today, the rest of the boys who worked here had stayed out late for the Superbowl celebrations, rooting against Tom Brady and then having to drink their disappointment away had taken a lot out of them. I didn’t look up as the bell above the door tinkled, focusing instead on trying to sweep all the hair shavings into the bin.

“Hi there, just a moment please!” I called out over my shoulder as I rushed to toss the dirty towels in the hamper and grab some clean ones.

“Take your time, ma’am,” came the polite response, something that was a rarity in the sprawling metropolis.

Finally turning I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared up at a shaggy, but beautiful Captain America. I was not prepared for this, people in New York saw The Avengers out and about all the time. Getting coffee, coming in and out of the tower down the street for meetings, grabbing lunch. I, however, was not prepared in the slightest. I assumed they had their own people for their personal upkeep.

“Do you have any openings for a shave and a cut?” the Captain asked hesitantly after I gawked at him for probably an inappropriate amount of time.

“Uh, yes! Yes, sir! Come on back with me,” I ushered to my barber chair and underneath the thick tawny beard I could detect a hint of a rosy flush.

“Steve is just fine, ma’am.” He insisted and I managed to flash a smile.

“Well, Y/N is just fine for me.”

Steve settled in and I flared a cape around his broad shoulders and clasped it behind his neck. I ran my finger between the neck of the cape and his skin, like standard and ignored the shiver that passed down his spine.

“Is this too tight?” I asked habitually and he shook his head.

“No,” he answered softly as I ran my fingers through his long golden locks, pulling them horizontally from the ridge of his head so I could get an accurate idea of how long it was.

“What are we thinking today, Steve?”

“Well, um, I have to do press related stuff again so I need to get rid of all of it. Tony gave me an electric razor, but it got caught,” Steve lifted his chin to show where underneath there was a patch of what started as a clean shear to then looking a little mangled.

I giggled and nodded trying not to freak out that Captain freaking America was talking to me so flippantly about who could only be Tony Stark. “Well, at least you started underneath. Do you style your hair at all when it’s short?” Grabbing my clippers I slip a half inch guard on it and start running it up the back of his head, tossing the shaved parts off to the side.

“Sometimes I’ll use a little grease to spike the front. Sam says it’ll help with ‘the ladies’, Buck says it stops me from twitching it out of my eyes all the time like I did as a kid when we couldn’t afford to cut it.”

It’s strange, the raw brutal honesty that people speak to their hairdressers with. It’s something I’ve long become accustom too. Women have said they’ve had easier times leaving their husband than their hairdresser, but the men are the most loyal. They’re in every four weeks like clockwork and I selfishly hoped that Steve wouldn’t be any different.

A comfortable silence fell over us as I worked, blending his sides into his top as my shears snipped inches of rough and damaged ends off onto the linoleum floor. When I finished with his haircut I held up my hand mirror behind him like I always do.

“How’s this feel?” I ask and his runs his large hands through his hair.

“Wow, it looks exactly like I used to have it cut back in the day,” Steve admired, now looking more hipster than hobo since I hadn’t gotten around to his scruffy beard.

“Well, I cheated and used a reference picture,” I snickered and pointed to the far wall where Steve, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce all stood for a photo op after saving New York from hordes of aliens.

“Oh, god, I forget how many places around here have that dumb article hanging on their walls,” Steve grumbled, sobering instantly.

I bit my lip and mixed up the shaving cream. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not from New York so I don’t think you’re all that impressive.” It was supposed to come across as teasing, but my tone fell flat and I instantly flushed hoping that I didn’t insult him.

Steve blinked his impossibly blue eyes at me a few times before breaking out into one of the most genuine, gut shaking, laughs I’ve ever heard. His right hand reached up to clutch at his heart, or grab his boob, I wasn’t really sure, and he doubled over in his seat. When he finally got control of himself he had to wipe a tear from his eye and he looked up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that,” he wheezed and settled himself back into the chair so I could spread the shaving cream on his cheeks and chin.

I laughed softly and sucked my lips in, showing him to mimic, and when he did I spread the cream over his upper lip. Clipping the sharpening leather around my hip, I pulled out a worn leather pouch and flipped it open, the silver straight razors gleaming in the sunlight. Pulling one out I flipped it open, palming the ivory handle tightly as I drug the steel across his cheeks, scraping and sloughing off the coarse hair.

“I haven’t had this done since before the war,” Steve muttered carefully.

“Which one?” I asked, trying not to get overwhelmed by the spice of his cologne that was now assaulting me since I was so close.

“Oh, you know, just the big one,” he responded cheekily, letting me tilt his jaw up so I could carve around the sharp bone and down his throat.

“You’re awful trusting for someone who’s been in so many that they have big ones and little ones.”

“Yeah, well, if you see everyone as an enemy you wouldn’t get to meet pretty girls who told you weren’t all that impressive.”

I feel my cheeks burn and I can’t help the goofy smile on my face as I move to his chin, biting down on my bottom lip to get him to protrude the little baby beard under his plump bottom lip.

“Doc usually kicks out guys who try to woo me, you know,” I warn, the teasing tone of my voice working this time.

Steve tries to restrain the smile that wants to take over his face and crinkle the space I was shaving. “I’ll have to keep it to myself then when he’s around.”

By the time I finished shaving Steve and wiping the cream off his face with a warm towel he looked twenty years younger. Steve rubbed his large hand over his jaw as I removed the cape from around his neck.

“I feel like I lost ten pounds,” he joked and I looked down at the floor with all the hair at my feet.

“I could probably make a small dog out of that,” I joked back and immediately swept it into a dust bin. “I’m not going to come get mobbed for Captain America’s hair clippings, am I?”

Steve winced and pulled out his wallet. “God, I hope not.” He laughed and handed me a hundred dollar bill.

“I’ll get your change,” I commented and went over to the till.

“No, it’s all yours. You earned it,” Steve insisted.

“Steve, that’s like forty dollars for a tip,” I said in shock still holding out the bill.

“Thanks again, Y/N!” he beamed and threw on his jacket before backing out of the shop with a wave before I could make him take his money back.

It had been a few days since Steve had been in, the boys didn’t believe me at first so Doc had pulled up the security camera footage. They all bitched and moaned about how they missed speaking to Captain America and shaking his hand and bro-ing over whatever bros broed about before Doc erased the footage.

“Don’t trust them paparazzi sort. If the Captain wants to use us as his shop, we keep it to ourselves,” the old marine barked, causing the shop boys to quiet down and nod in agreement.

The day had been typical, a few fades, a shave or two, and the business man who came in once a week to see me for barely a trim just so he could have a girl wash his hair. He was lonely, but nice, and tipped well so I kept taking him.

Just as Doc was sending me home the door opened with it’s pleasant chime and the whole shop went quiet. I turned to look over my shoulder to see Tony Stark standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt under his suit jacket and examining the humble little corner shop.

“Mister Stark,” Doc greeted walking forward to shake the man’s hand. “What a pleasure. How can I help you today?”

“I am actually looking for Y/N. Our resident star spangled man couldn’t stop talking about what a great job she did after my electric razor apparently nearly zapped his face off. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about,” Tony explained looking passed the old owner and spotting me by my station.

“I can take you now if you’d like, Mister Stark,” I offered, slipping my jacket back off and hanging it on the hook, trying not to show how nervous I was.

I wasn’t nervous because it was Iron Man, Iron Man always had a mask on. Tony Stark, however, was on the front cover of most magazines, and headlining the evening news, and a prominent figure in the community. Tony Stark’s haircut and face were seen at least twenty times a day by very influential people and that was a very terrifying thought.

“Tony is fine, please,” he assured as he settled himself into my cracked leather chair after also handing me his own suit jacket which I hung up next to my own.

Flourishing the cape over him I performed the same routine; snap the cape, run my finger along the inside, ask if it’s too tight. Tony assured that the cape was fine and my fingers immediately went into his graying hair along his parietal ridge, pulling softly and feeling for texture and thickness.

“So you’re testing me, then?” I asked, hoping to come across nonchalant. “What’s your goal?”

“Oh, you know, just make me even more handsome if possible,” he responded, crossing his left leg over his right.

“Uncross your legs,” I demand immediately, lightly smacking his shoulder with my comb.

He startled slightly but uncrossed them hurriedly, Doc made a disapproving clucking noise from the register where he was watching his newest hire. I cast him a small look of irritation before focusing back at Tony in my mirror.

“Do you get your sides cut with clippers or shears?”

“You’re the professional,” Tony quipped with a bemused expression.

I chuckle softly and pick up my spray bottle, spritzing him down thoroughly before picking up a barber comb and my cutting shears.

“So, Tony, I’m sure you have someone you pay way more than us to make sure you’re coiffed all pretty. Steve couldn’t have talked me up all that much,” I teased as I started cutting.

“Hasn’t stopped talking you up, more like. I swear, he checks his hair every time he walks by a mirror to see if it’s grown enough yet.”

I paused and my eyes flicked to Tony’s in the mirror. “Was it too short?” I asked nervously.

Tony rolled his brown eyes. “No, he’s too anxious to come back.”

Feeling a different sort of nervousness creep into my stomach I went back to what I was doing. Making my way around the sides of his head I went to the top and then grabbed my thinning shears to blend the line.

“I’m not going to get a phone call from an angry, overpaid stylist, am I?” I joke as I move to mix up the shaving cream in a bowl.

Tony quirked an eyebrow at me as I snapped the leather to my hip and swiped my straight razor up and down the length.

“What makes you think my stylist is overpaid?” he asked curiously with a hint of challenge.

I laughed and swiped cream around his cheeks and down his chin. “All celebrity stylists are overpaid. It’s the hairdresser’s dream.”

“Including yours?”

“I dunno, it’s a lot of pressure doing celebrities.”

“Well, don’t worry, no pressure from my end,” Tony assured.

I shrug one shoulder lackadaisically. “I know, you’re not all that famous.”

“Yeah,” he drew the word out slowly. “Pepper likes to tell me that all the time too.”

The soft scrape of blade sloughing hair from his face was one of the most relaxing sounds in the world. Using the corner tip to make the hard corners of his signature goatee, the tips of my fingers resting lightly under his chin to lift it to the height I needed to not cut him.

“Get this close with all your clients?” he teased and I frowned, quickly pulling my hand away.

“I need you to not talk for like, five minutes, unless you want to lose your lip,” I admonish strictly and he smirked but complied easily enough to allow me to finish.

Swiping my blade clean on a towel, I grabbed a clean warm one and wiped the cream off his face before letting him examine himself in the mirror.

“Huh, yeah, not bad kid,” Tony praised as I snapped the cape off.

“Anything I can fix or change?” I asked before ditching it in the dirty laundry bin.

“No, looks great.”

Tossing the cape in the bin I pass him his suit jacket that I had hung up earlier.

“That’ll be sixty dollars, please, Tony. Can I interest you in any of the product? I used the Mitch Clean Cut on you today.”

“Easy there, Y/N,” Doc interrupted. “We’re just glad you decided to try us out, Mister Stark. Your service is on the house today.”

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion and looked between me and Doc. “Is she commission based?” he asked.

“No, sir, hourly,” Doc responded.

“Okay, well, I appreciate it. Tip for you, Y/N. You know, I hate to admit when the Cap is right, but, well, I’ll see you in four weeks,” Tony commented loftily, shaking my hand and leaving a bill in my hand with a wink. He was out the door before I could process the hundred he left behind in my palm or the promise of his return.

“Listen, all I’m saying is if you just even just trim the shagginess you wont look like some murderous caveman.”

The warm, teasing voice filled the reception area as the bell tinkled above the doorway to the shop. I looked up from the clipper cut I was quickly pushing through to see none other than Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes standing by the front counter. The guys had all taken off early for beers, leaving me to close on my own once again. Not that I minded, living in New York was way more expensive than my small town half way across the country. I would happily take all the clients they took for granted.

“There is nothing wrong with my goddamn hair,” Bucky grumbled angrily under his breath at his friend, his hands shoved deep into a leather jacket and a gray hood from his sweater under it pulled up over his head.

“Maybe not if you did anything with it. Like, wash it…or comb it…or ya know…anything really other than let it hang around your face or up in a manbun,” Sam sniped back with a friendly glare.

I smirked slightly. “I’ll be right with you, gentlemen, go ahead and have a seat.”

I finished the client in my seat to the sound of their playful bickering, paid him out and thanked him for coming in. “Alright, boys, who’s up first?”

“This man,” Sam said clapping his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and shoving him forward off the chair.

“What? I told you I wasn’t getting my haircut. I just came along because you promised me pizza after,” Bucky argued.

“Dude, I got my hair cut here earlier today. I’m still hurt you haven’t noticed,” Sam commented, his face looking exaggeratedly wounded before looking up at me. “I asked for you but they said you were closing then I felt too bad to tell the dude I didn’t want him to cut my hair.”

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes as I examined his fade. He instantly squirmed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Is it jacked up?”

“Joey did it, didn’t he?” I already knew Sam had been in earlier, Joey had been talking about his whole shift. The kid had been positively glowing by the time he left with the other guys.

“Yeah?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and he tried to move his body so he could see in a mirror as he continued to rub his fade self-consciously.

“Yeah. It looks good. I thought the blend was crooked but it’s just your ears, come on back guys. I’ll just sweep real quick.”

Behind me Bucky let out a bark of laughter and Sam scoffed telling him to shut the hell up.

“I guess your reputation proceeds you correctly,” Sam commented taking a seat at the station next to mine and turning the chair to face me.

I felt my cheeks heat up and frowned in confusion. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Steve and Stark both said that you weren’t starstruck over the super famous superheroes,” Sam explained, waving away the notion that they had said anything bad.

“Oh,” I responded simply and patted my chair for Bucky. The man, while large and imposing, just shrunk further into his hoodie and looked at me warily.

“I don’t bite, dude, and I can hang up your jacket and zip up so they don’t get hair in them,” I offered, holding my hand out for his jackets.

“Um, can I…can I keep the sweater on?” he asked hesitantly, shrugging off the leather.

“Sure,” I shrug. “But you gotta flip the hood in.”

Bucky settled in while I hung up his jacket and pretended not to notice Sam mouthing at him to be cool. I’m not an idiot, I knew the story of Bucky Barnes and I figured he had plenty of shit he was working through and just being here was hard enough for him. Turning back I noticed he had stuffed his hood in so it was a giant lump behind his neck and I reached out slowly.

“I’m just gonna smooth this out, cool?”

He nodded and I carefully flattened out his hood under his collar before draping the cape over him. This time instead of snapping it closed first I held it at the clasp and looked at him in the mirror. He was avoiding looking into the reflective surface, his eyes cast down to where his hands were folded in his lap.

“Is this too tight?” I asked.

His eyes shot up to mine in the mirror briefly before looking away. “Can you go a bit looser?” he asked softly and I nodded, moving down one clasp and snapping it closed. He let out a noticeably shaky breath under my fingers.

“So I get the feeling that if I asked you what you wanted to do with your hair, you’d say leave it how it is,” I teased lightly as I grabbed a black comb from where it was resting on a clean towel and noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward. I gently pulled a small subsection of his hair out with the comb, smoothed the shafts down and held it up towards the LED lights overhead. “But, you have about two inches of split ends that are just dead and not doing anything for you other than getting tangled and spreading to your healthy hair. If we cut all them off you should be good for another eight to ten weeks before needing another maintenance trim. Does that sound okay to you?”

Bucky swallowed the heavy lump in his throat before sending a glare to Sam who had been sitting quietly and letting me try to get Bucky settled before catching my eyes again. “Yeah,” he murmured huskily. “Sounds fine.”

“Great!” I was trying to stay light and chipper. Doc was an old marine veteran so I had seen my fair share of veterans with PTSD come through. Doc usually took them, but for all the older man’s brash and direct interactions he’d had with me; I’d learned a lot about to how to interact with a variety of people from him. It was fascinating watching Doc go from one client to the next, his personality changing to what the client in his chair needed.

“We’re gonna wash your hair first so I can cut it wet, okay?” I figured a step by step of what we were doing would be the easiest for him to handle. So he had the chance to say no to something if it made him uncomfortable.

I set my hand lightly across his shoulder, pulling back slightly when he flinched. “I need you to lean forward slightly so I can drop the back of your chair but not you.”

It was always unnerving doing your job under someone’s watchful eye. My first few weeks at the shop were rough with all the boys looking over my shoulder and Doc subtly checking over every one of my haircuts. But it was something else entirely to have Sam Wilson watch me with eagle eyes - well, Falcon eyes - as I handled his friend. He was making observations on me as a person, not a barber, and I had to fight the constant urge to squirm under his pointed gaze.

Gathering Bucky’s chestnut locks in one hand I guided him back down into the shampoo bowl slowly so he wouldn’t knock his head against the rim. “How do you like your water?” I ask, turning on the hose and sticking my fingers underneath as it warmed up.

“Hot as you can stand,” he responded, shifting so his neck would feel more comfortable against the acrylic tub.

“Want me to put a towel under your neck for some cushion?”

“It’s fine.”

Once the water was near scalding I started saturating his hair and looked up at Sam with a smile. “So, what smooth words did Joey use to get you in his chair?”

Sam smirked and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He said you were stealing all the interesting clients. Had to throw the kid a bone.”

I smiled as I squirted some shampoo into my hands and started to gently work it through Bucky’s hair. “That was nice of you. He’s the biggest Falcon fan I have ever met. Please tell me he showed you his official hat?”

Joey was Doc’s apprentice, he was only seventeen and had tried to rob Doc with a water gun a few months back. Instead of calling the police, Doc offered him a job and the kid was a natural.

Sam looked extremely pleased with himself. “Yeah, I signed it for him.”

I hummed in approval as I applied gentle pressure around Bucky’s temples and the crown pressure point just above middle of his brows. “That was nice of you. He’ll be talking about it for weeks.” I deftly raked my fingers down the top of Bucky’s head to cup my hands just under his occipital bone and into the pressure points behind his ears where his jaw bone meets his skull. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out as he relaxed under my administrations.

I eased out of the massage so as not to shock him with sudden loss of contact as I started the hose up against. He startled slightly at the burst of water and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from giggling. “Morning!” I chirped as I rinsed the shampoo from his hair and scalp.

“That was…really nice,” Bucky admitted taking another deep breath. “Was the shampoo supposed to tingle?”

“Yup,” I shut off the water and started applying conditioner to his long locks. “It has peppermint and tea tree extracts in it. Soothes and stimulates your scalp at the same time, but I just love the scent really.”

Rinsing the conditioner off I wrapped the towel around his hair and had him sit up so I could get his chair back in position. Tossing his towel in the soiled bin I start combing through his hair.

“Do you part off this front cowlick?” I ask, placing my comb on the spot just left of his center part.

“Sometimes.”

“Cool.” As I sectioned off his hair and started snipping all the dead ends off Bucky continued to relax more and more. “So what do you guys have planned for the rest of the night?”

“We were thinking of hitting Prince Street Pizza,” Sam said, having gone from watching me intently to scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, cool. I haven’t tried that one yet.”

“It’s the best pizza in Manhattan,” Bucky said with a face of total seriousness as he locked eyes with me.

Setting down my scissors and comb and flipping on the blow dryer and grabbing a boar bristle brush, I chuckled. “Well, then that will be the next pizza destination.”

“Wanna come with?” Sam asked nonchalantly.

I shook my head as I dried Bucky’s hair smooth. “I gotta call my mom tonight. If I don’t call her the same time and day every week she freaks out and thinks I got murdered.”

“You’re not from here,” Bucky observed, it was a statement and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I moved here about a month ago.” I turned off the dryer and set it back in its cradle before removing the cape.

“How does it feel?” I asked Bucky, tossing the cape into the dirty bin.

Bucky actually looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, not coming across any tangles or snags. It was soft and shiny and looked so much healthier than when he came in.

“It’s nice,” Bucky said with a small grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dude. I’m here every day except Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

Leading them to the checkout, Bucky picked up a bottle of the shampoo I had used and like all the others left a more than substantial tip.

“So, eight to ten weeks Sergeant Barnes. Especially if you’re out saving the world and getting all battered. Also, switch from a regular elastic to a cotton tie, your hair is too fine for elastic, it’s breaking the cuticles of your hair.”

Bucky blinked at you a few times before nodding with a bashful smile, the tips of his ears a bright pink.

“I’d feel bad taking you from Joey, thanks again for doing all that Sam. And thanks for trusting me, Bucky,” I shook both men’s hands and Bucky chuckled softly.

“Well, we had to come see what actually got Steve and Stark to agree on something,” Bucky commented before both men departed with a friendly wave.

Looking up at the clock I noticed that it was a good half hour past closing so I locked the front door and started the closing chores, feeling good about what I had accomplished today.

The next day was Monday and I had been planning in my head all day what I was going to do with my middle of the week weekend. The last couple of days had been extra busy it seemed and I was looking forward to just lazing around the house and catching up on laundry and maybe do some prep cooking for the coming week. I had also been debating on getting a cat, so I would have someone to look forward to coming home to at the end of my shift.

“Captain Rogers! It’s good to see you again!” I heard Doc exclaim from the front where he had been showing Joey how to run some of the reports in the POS system.

My head whipped around so fast I almost slipped on the blend line on the client I was working on. Quickly going back to what I was doing so that no one could catch onto the small bit of bubbling anxiety that crept in. It had only been two weeks, there was no way he’d need his hair cut again so soon. Maybe a beard trim if he hadn’t been keeping up on it on his own. I peeked out to the lobby out of the corner of my eye and saw he was in fact still clean shaved so he must have been managing on his own and his hair cut was growing out just fine and didn’t need to be touched up quite yet.

He talked softly with Doc for a moment, shaking the older man’s hand and signing a quick autograph before taking a seat in the lobby, his hands folded in his lap as he patiently watched out the window into the Manhattan street.

The man in my chair impatiently cleared his throat and I mumbled a soft apology and continued his service. After finishing and checking the man out he looked up at me and then back at Steve still sitting in the chair. The man tossed a crumbled dollar bill at me. “Maybe next time pay more attention to what’s going on in front of you instead of getting star struck.”

I opened my mouth wordlessly, feeling the heat creep up on my cheeks as I fumbled with the bill he had thrown on the counter at me. Before I could defend myself the man was out the door into the cold New York air. Letting out a huff of hair and carding my fingers through my hair I shoved the dollar in my back pocket.

“What a jerk,” Steve admonished, looking behind himself at the door.

“Eh. It happens every once and a while.” I shrug and smile at him, leaning across the counter. “Thanks for sending me all your friends. I appreciate the referrals.”

“Well, you do a good job,” Steve said and then pink rose to his cheeks and tips of his ears. “Such a good job I was wondering if you’d like to grab a cup of coffee or something?”

I smiled so wide it made my cheeks ache. “I’d really like that Steve. I’m off in a couple of hours.”

“Go, take the rest of the day,” Doc hollered from across the shop, proving that he was most definitely not eavesdropping.

“You sure, Chief?” I ask over my shoulder, already reaching for my bag and jacket.

“Go on, before I change my mind and let Joey go with him instead.”

Steve held the door open for me as I threw my jacket on. As Steve smiled down at me and led me out into the loud and bustling streets of New York, I couldn’t help but think that this move was the right call after all.

#fic

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popcultureoverdosed · 5 years

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Ninja Slayer slays my heart with disappointment.

Domo, it is I, pop culture Rhapsody. Watching Ninja Slayer was one of the most bittersweet experiences I've had yet. On one hand, I was totally disappointed in the limited animation that mostly consisted of character cut-outs sliding across the screen. On the other, the story, setting, characters, and music captivated me to the point I had to watch every episode.

The problem with Ninja Slayer is that it wants to have its cake and eat it too. It wants to be a cheesy parody of 90's ninja media that goes for a " so bad it's good" angle and yet, there are several moments of drama and tension that are meant to be taken seriously. The anime never quite gets a proper handle on its tone and shifts back and forth without any style.

The experimental style wouldn't have been so bad had it been an original anime. A lot of people forget that ninja Slayer is based on a series of light novels. This makes Ninja Slayer one of the worst adaptions for its animation alone. I'm sure the staff at studio trigger thought the direction style would mesh well with the cheesy tongue in cheek tone of the novel, but, it sounds more like an excuse to be lazy. People need to realize that so bad it's good only works if it's done unintentionally. When you actually put effort into being so bad it's good, you're just going to be bad and probably end up using " I wasn't trying to be good" as a deflection of criticism.

This show could've of been amazing if it focused more on either being a straight-up comedy or being a serious ninja series with a few jokes sprinkled here and there. I would've preferred the later choice. I found myself enthralled by our hero Fujikido Kenji and his plight to slay all evil ninja. He's the kind of manly badass hero we don't see much of anymore. A rugged warrior who's brutal when he needs to be and isn't overtly edgy with a set of morals he abides by. He's the kind of guy I can root for and wish him a happy ending.

The ninja Slayer mangas are far better than the anime but be warned as they are incomplete. The manga adaption by Yugo Yuki has more or less been dropped by vertical and Tokyo otaku mode gave up on translating the novels years ago. It seems unlikely if ninja Slayer will ever see a definitive conclusion for English speakers. So long, you ninja Slayer.

#ninja slayer #review #thoughts #ninja #anime #blog

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isolavirtuosa · 5 years

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Starting Over (For Real?) 7-8

[fanfiction] NaruSasu

Read the previous parts here.

- 7 -

We finally reached the hospital proper, linking our fingers in a henge jutsu before stepping into it. It was full of people and noise, even this late in the evening. The building was damaged from the receding roots of the God Tree, with sudden pitfalls and smashed out windows.

Naruto weaved us through the crowded hallway to another staircase, then along yet another crowded hallway.

There were so many patients, and so many doctors and nurses who looked like patients themselves. Not enough room to fit all the beds. There was some deep, dark part of me that enjoyed seeing how far Konoha had fallen.

And yet some other part felt… heavy.

Naruto pulled us to a stop in front of a door clearly labeled ‘Personnel Only’ and went straight in.

Sakura was sitting at one of the many occupied desks in the room, fast asleep.

Naruto hesitated, then went up to her desk, dragging me along. “Sakura.”

She was out.

“Waft your pheromones or somethin’,” he urged me.

I stared at him like the idiot he was.

Sakura startled awake.

“Nice job, jerkwad,” he said with a grin. “Hey, Sakura.”

“Who the hell are you?” she groaned, rubbing her temple.

“Who else would I be?” Naruto said with a shrug, his appearance still masked by the henge.

And yet recognition immediately flooded Sakura’s eyes, followed by horror as she glanced between us. “What the hell were you thinking?” she hissed, grabbing Naruto by the lapel and yanking him towards her. “You can’t just bring him here!”

I caught myself on her desk and struggled to hold myself up with my one arm.

“You said you could help us out with some m-a-s-a-g-e,” Naruto said with a confident grin.

“Everyone in this room knows how to spell except for you, so what the hell are you spelling for?!”

“You seem really fixated on hell right now…”

“Because it’s where I’m going to send you for being so stupid!”

I suddenly understood why Naruto had misguidedly thought that I might marry Sakura. If I were heterosexual, and if this was how she acted around me instead of like a simpering fangirl, I actually would have found her attractive.

“Well, we did a h-e-n-g-e, so no one knows who we are,” Naruto said, straightening up and hooking his arm around me again.

I leaned into him gratefully. I really couldn’t stand on my own and I didn’t feel like falling over and making a fool of myself.

There was a little tingle of chakra where Naruto’s hand rested on my side.

I glanced at him and he blushed, grinning in a happy way.

Sakura looked between us suspiciously. “I know I told you that the physical therapist could squeeze you in if you came by, but I thought you might actually… tell me you were coming first.”

“I’m spontaneous,” he said with a shrug. “Can you fit us in?”

Sakura sighed, long and loud.

The person asleep at the next desk over shifted and snuffled.

“I will see if he’s available.”

“Thank you!” Naruto gushed.

She walked around the desk.

Naruto moved to follow her.

“Stay here!” she hissed.

He pouted and hopped onto her desk, swinging his legs impatiently.

The more he acted childish, the more comfortable I felt leaning into him.

“Sas’?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay that I get kinda turned on when you press up against me?”

I started coughing.

A couple of the doctors woke up, grumbling complaints before settling back into sleep.

“So that’s a ‘no’…?” Naruto murmured dejectedly.

I didn’t move away.

He looked at me curiously.

I kept my face turned away from him.

“I wish you would just tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, shifting my weight to the desk and taking his arm away.

So did I, but… “Maybe you should stop with your mixed signals.”

“My signals are mixed?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

I turned to him and stared him down.

“How so?” he asked, unperturbed.

“By saying all these ridiculous things.”

“Such as…?”

I looked away again.

Sakura opened the door and surreptitiously motioned us to follow her.

Naruto looked at me.

I put my arm around his waist.

“You’re the one with the mixed signals,” he muttered, hooking his arm around me and leading us after Sakura.

She weaved her way through the crowded hallways skillfully, leading us down to the lowest basement.

“Why have you taken us to the morgue?” I asked as we stood surrounded by dead bodies in storage.

“Because no one will come down here unless someone dies,” Sakura said, patting one of the empty slabs. “Sit.”

Naruto looked mortified.

“Are you just going to stand there?” I growled, nudging him towards the slab.

“This is like my worst nightmare,” he said, trying to smile as he helped me sit. He quickly looked away.

I wondered how many times he’d pictured finding me in a morgue.

A sharp intake of breath had us both turning to Sakura, who had fallen asleep on her feet.

“Shit,” Naruto muttered, going to her side. “Sakura, you need to go home and get some real sleep.”

She startled slightly. “I’m on call…”

“What are we going to do when the entire medical staff exhausts themselves to the point that we have no more doctors?” he said, nudging her towards the door.

“The world’s already gone to hell,” she said, letting herself be led out.

I waited alone. It wasn’t any stranger than sitting in one of Orochimaru’s labs.

The door finally opened and a broad-shouldered man came in. “Are you the atrophy patient?” he asked, like it was normal to find a patient sitting on a morgue slab.

“Do you see any other live bodies in here?” I asked irritably.

He snapped on a pair of gloves as he approached me. “Ms. Haruno did say that the patient would be a bit ornery.”

I was not ornery. Fucking Sakura.

“Well?” he said, looming over me.

I stared at him.

“…can I see your legs?” he requested.

I stared even harder before rolling up my pant legs one at a time.

He ran his hand up my leg and I flinched.

It was one thing for Naruto to touch me. It was another for Sakura to do it. And it was a completely other thing for this nameless medic to do it.

“Your chakra is completely blocked,” he said brusquely. He worked his glowing thumbs into my chakra pathways.

It burned like hell.

“Is this too much?” he asked, not even looking up at me as he continued to work. “You seem like the kind of guy who’ll just say that it’s fine.”

I didn’t answer.

“Where is it?” he murmured to himself, moving his hands along my right calf. “Damn. There’s one. But how can I…?”

“I don’t really need the running commentary,” I offered through clenched teeth.

He ignored me completely and continued his running commentary. “Okay, so if I just… yeah, okay, but then hm…”

“Can you believe Sakura, she won’t go home and take care of herself at all!” Naruto declared, bursting back into the morgue. “Oh, uh. There’s a strange man touching you.”

The medic didn’t so much as look up at Naruto and continued to do his excruciatingly painful work.

Naruto came to my side and rested his hand on my head.

I looked at him.

One look in his eyes and I knew the pain was evident in my face.

“Why are you touching me?” I grumbled.

“’Cause I want to,” he said cheerfully. He ruffled my hair for added effect.

My scowl increased about tenfold. “I don’t need two strange men touching me.”

“Or do you?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“I do have a name, you know,” the nameless medic nin informed us before I could kill Naruto.

“Oh, sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself,” the idiot said. “I’m Na-”

I gave him a friendly elbow to the kidney.

Naruto looked at me in shock and betrayal before realizing that he probably shouldn’t be going around announcing his name.

“Na…na… uhh…”

“Mr. Nananauhh, is it?” the medic nin said pleasantly as he continued to send horrible pain shooting through my chakra pathways. I only trusted that he was good at his job and wasn’t trying to kill me because he’d come on Sakura’s recommendation, but now I was starting to wonder.

“…y…es…?” Naruto said. He ran his fingers through my hair nervously, like he was petting a dog.

I stupidly leaned into the touch, wanting the comfort of it.

“I’ve just about got it,” the medic nin hummed. “I’m Shigeo, since you’ve been dying to know.”

“Oh, nice to meet you!” Naruto said, flopping his stub towards the man. “Oh, uh, heh, sorry. Sometimes I forget I’ve only got one.” He didn’t move his only hand from cradling my head to try and rectify the missed handshake, though. In fact he seemed to dig his fingers more insistently into my hair.

“It’s okay, both of my hands are currently occupied,” Shigeo said.

“Oh, uh, of course.”

I closed my eyes and held in a scream.

“There we go,” Shigeo said. “That was a tough one. Damn, I’m good.”

Naruto stroked my hair, waiting for me to open my eyes.

“What did that even do?” I complained when I got my breath back. I explored the minimal movements that my legs were capable of. I definitely wouldn’t be able to walk yet.

“Well, I opened up the chakra flow in your legs,” he explained. “You should slowly start to get more movement, but you’ll need to continue therapy and deal with the muscle atrophy.”

“How do I do that?”

“Range of motion exercises are a good start. If you could come into the hospital again for physical therapy and chakra therapy, that would be ideal.”

I sighed, pushing Naruto’s hand away from my hair. His touch was starting to feel like something that shouldn’t be seen in public. “Can you show me some range of motion exercises?”

“Sure, but I gotta get upstairs soon,” he said. “I’m on call. Anyway, lie back.”

Shigeo quickly showed me some exercises that sounded laughably pointless but were somehow incredibly difficult to perform. He started to show Naruto a resistance exercise to do with me when a device clipped to his belt lit up.

“Shit, I’ve got to go,” he said, setting my leg back on the table.

It was a relief.

“Thanks so much for this,” Naruto said, and this time they properly shook hands.

“Anything for the hero of Konoha,” Shigeo answered. “I mean, Mr. Nananauhh.”

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck, turning to me sheepishly after Shigeo was gone. “I wonder if he figured out who you are.”

“I’m surprise you didn’t introduce me as Sasu-er-I-mean-ummm.”

“Hey now,” he said, knocking me on the shoulder. “You okay, though? All of that looked pretty rough.”

“Lifting my legs off of the table looked rough?”

“Yeah. It did. Can you make it back up to the roof?”

“Of course I can.”

He didn’t look very convinced.

I scowled and slid my legs over the side of the slab.

“Farewell, morgue,” he said cheerfully, slipping his arm around me and helping me drop to the ground.

My muscles were shaking from a pathetic five minutes of use.

Naruto didn’t say anything, infusing his arm with chakra and lifting me so my feet were just brushing uselessly along the floor.

We wove our way back up to the roof, pushing our way through cramped, questionably smelling hallways until we were back in the open air.

“Okay, here we go,” Naruto said, trying to maneuver me onto his back.

My legs gave out and I fell.

“Shit, sorry!” he said, kneeling next to me.

I hit the roof, expelling a frustrated shout.

He waited.

I took a breath. “Let’s go.”

He nodded, offering his back to me.

I put my arm over his shoulder.

He stood up, and we both faced towards Konoha.

I felt his back go rigid. I started to ask what was wrong, but then I knew.

Naruto leapt off the roof, still tense.

I didn’t know what to say, staring at the complete destruction of the fourth hokage’s face on the mountain.

- 8 -

“Like this, idiot,” I said irritably, forming the sign as slowly as humanly possible with my hand.

“Okay, but how many times do I have to tell you that we’re using different hands!” Naruto snapped.

“Oh my god, moron, just mirror image what I’m doing.”

“Just mirror image it! Just mirror image it! I’m not a mirror, Sasuke!”

“Maybe y’all should take a break,” Miharu commented as she walked by us to go into the house. Her basket of vegetables wasn’t looking very full.

“This is just how we communicate,” Naruto said, flashing her a sunny smile.

“Doesn’t seem very healthy,” she said with a shrug.

“We’re healthy as horses,” he assured her.

She gave us both a look before closing the door.

“I was completely fronting for Miss Miharu, you are the shittiest teacher in the history of the world,” Naruto informed me.

“I think it’s more like you’re the shittiest student in the history of the world.”

“In the history of the world, is it? How original.”

“Oh, you want original? How about I make some one-handed signs and blow your head off with a jutsu that even children can defend themselves from but you can’t because you are in fact the most pathetic ninja to ever live? How about that?”

“Harsh.”

I wanted to strangle him, but I only had one hand.

His eyes flashed. “And after you brutally murder me, what exactly is your plan? Are you going to crawl the thousands of miles that you’ll need to cover to get to safety from Sakura and every other ninja that’s gonna be out to avenge my death? Oh, of course you are, with your stupid Uchiha pride and all, but do you know how ridiculous you’re gonna look? A one-armed ninja crawling at like 5-miles-per-hour? They’ll be so embarrassed for you that they won’t even want to fight you, so they’ll just put like a big rock or something in front of you and wait for you to die from exposure.”

I threw a katon at him just to be pissy.

Naruto shrieked, his hair getting a little singed in his ridiculous attempt to dodge.

“Just because you can’t do something so pathetically simple is no reason to assume that I am equally as helpless and pathetic,” I informed him.

“That’s funny,” Naruto said, disappearing.

I waited. For a long time. “Naruto.”

He didn’t come back.

Fuck him, then. I slid off the rock I was sitting on and flopped forward so I could pull myself by my arm.

Naruto immediately appeared in front of me.

“Oh, are you the big rock that’s going to stop me from moving forward and cause me to die from exposure? Because rocks and Uzumakis have about the same amount of brain function.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, crouching down in front of me. “I was being a baby. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“So you just waited until I was in the most vulnerable position possible to make your grand reappearance?”

“More like I saw you start to crawl and it made me feel like crap because I keep telling you to lean on me and trust me and yet…” he lay on the ground in front of me, mirroring my posture. “I’m just really frustrated that I can’t do this. And it’s so damn easy for you.”

I reached out and forced his fingers into a seal position. Then I completed the seal by linking my fingers with his.

A little burst of electricity shot out from our fingers.

“You’ll get it eventually,” I said.

“I like when you’re nice to me,” Naruto said quietly.

“I don’t.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“I’m a horrible person in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Nah,” he said, staring into my eyes. “I love you. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting so childish around you lately.”

“Where do I even start with that?” I muttered, looking away from those eyes before I drowned. “Maybe you’re acting childishly because you are a child. We’re sev-eighteen years old, Naruto.”

“It’s hard to think of myself as a kid when I have the memories of an entire lifetime in my head that are just as real and vivid as the memories of the first seventeen years of my life.”

“Well you are.”

“I guess so,” he said, brushing my bangs away from my rinnegan and trying to catch my eye. His hand lingered.

“And for the last time, stop making your ridiculous declarations.”

“Uh, which declarations would those be?”

I glared at him, which I realized was exactly what he wanted as our eyes locked again. “You know the ones,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I love you,” he said quietly, cupping my cheek.

“Are the words coming out of my mouth just air to you?” I asked incredulously.

“You know that once I figure something out I have to keep saying it over and over,” he said, not even considering moving his hand.

“And what exactly have you figured out?”

“That you’re my one and only, too.”

“You have lots of friends, Naruto,” I said sharply.

“You didn’t mean friend.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You didn’t mean friend,” he repeated, pressing his forehead to mine. “We’re more than that. This thing between us… it’s more than that.”

“Then what is it?” I asked, trying to roll my eyes and make it seem like everything he was saying was so stupid and wrong.

“I don’t know,” he said, giving me a sheepish grin.

“I thought the whole point was that you knew.”

“I know that I need you by my side,” he said. “I know that you complete me.” He kissed the corner of my mouth.

“Naruto, stop,” I said firmly. I didn’t move.

He pulled back, searching my face.

“I’m not him,” I hissed.

He sighed. “I know that. How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

“As many times as it takes to get it through your thick skull. Whatever you had with Your Sasuke wasn’t real.”

“I’m talking about what we have.”

“And what do we have?!” I snapped. I pushed myself up, getting into a sitting position as gracefully as I could.

He frowned as he sat up as well. “Was everything you said to me at the Valley of the End just bullshit?”

“I don’t know, do we even have the same memories of the Valley of the End? Were we even really there?”

He smacked my stub with his, unsmiling. “Stop running away from me.”

“Who’s running?” I asked, smacking him back. “You’re the one saying ‘we aren’t there yet’ or whatever bullshit.”

His look got more studious.

I shouldn’t have said that. Why did I say that?

He was looking right through me. “Am I not… do you need more from me?”

“If anything, I need less,” I spat out.

It was too late.

“I’m kind of still… adjusting to this world, Sas’. You’re the most important person to me, you know? But you’re not the only person. And I’ve got a lot of stuff to deal with. I’m not over losing my family, okay? So I still feel like I’m cheating on a wife I never even had every time I look at you. And sometimes…” he froze.

“What?” I growled at him.

“Never mind, god,” he sighed, catching the back of my head and pulling me close. His lips were chapped, irritating my lips with every brush.

I was drowning.

Naruto pulled away slowly, coming out of his own daze. “Woah,” he breathed.

Why did he always have to say something pointless and stupid? I stared at the ground.

“I feel like I shoulda seen that coming.”

Both our heads shot up towards the door where Miharu was peering out at us.

“I could use a hand with supper,” she said. “But that can wait until you’ve… finished.” She closed the door.

Naruto let out a laugh.

I glared at him. The look was undercut by the way I was tenderly holding his face.

He leaned into the touch, kissing my palm. “Is this what you need?”

“No,” I said sharply, not even sure what he was asking about.

Naruto just kept talking like I hadn’t said anything. “If you need physical reassurance, I want to give that to you, okay? But I’m not… ready for all this, you know? I’m going to fuck it all up like I did my fake life, and I can’t do that with you.” He stopped, swallowing the rest of his words down his throat.

“Mixed signals,” I muttered. I reclaimed my hand and flicked his forehead.

“That coming from you is just insulting,” he said. There was still some kind of pain lurking in his eyes. “Stop rejecting me verbally while begging for me with your body.”

I had never been so insulted in my life. I felt my eye starting to twitch.

Naruto kissed my eyelid.

Then all I could be was embarrassed.

“We’ll figure it all out eventually, yeah?” he said. His smile was slow, but easy. “You wanna figure things out with me, right? You can at least tell me that.”

I looked at him and I swallowed my pride. “I guess.”

“Good,” he said. “Really good. Really, really good.”

I had no idea what all of this meant or where we stood.

“Let’s go help Ms. Miharu,” he said, helping me stand.

Of course this strange woman that we’d been living with for a few weeks wasn’t about to let our garden make out go uncommented on.

“So…” she said with a very strange smile fixed on her face.

“Can I peel those potatoes for you?” Naruto offered.

“Thanks,” she said, handing them to him. “How long have you two been a couple?”

“We’re not a couple,” we both said, me mortified and Naruto cheerful.

“Oh, I uh… I just assumed because… you know, the very tender kissing just now,” she said, stirring the pot on the stove with her back to us.

“Sasuke just can’t resist all this,” Naruto said, gesturing to himself.

I stabbed him with the potato peeler that he’d just handed me.

“Hey! That is for potatoes, not Narutos!”

I started aggressively peeling a potato while maintaining steady eye contact.

Naruto swallowed.

“Now I don’t understand if this is you two actually fightin’ or if it’s foreplay,” Miharu said with a sigh.

“We’re just helping you with dinner,” I stated flatly.

“I wish a man would look at me like that,” she scoffed.

“With murder in his eyes?!” Naruto asked, at the same time I said, “like a kicked puppy?”

She looked between us and shook her head.

We ate. We washed up. We went to bed.

My eyes were closed and my breathing was evening out.

“Sasuke.”

I sighed, cracking an eye open. “What.”

“We can’t… stay here much longer…” Naruto said.

“I know that.”

“Okay, but you can’t walk, and Kakashi’s still keeping you a secret form the Council, so…”

“So what?” I asked tiredly.

“So… what do you want?”

“…that’s a vague question.”

Naruto shifted onto his side, fixing his gaze on me in the dark. “Look, you know everything about my dream world. You know what I want out of life. But I need you tell me what you want.”

“Your dream world made you miserable,” I said. “Are you saying you still want those things?”

“For the ninja world to be peaceful, yeah,” he said. “I mean, whether I can help bring that about by being the hokage… or some other way…”

“In what universe are you not going to be the next hokage?” I grumbled at him.

“In the one where there’s no longer a Konohagakure,” he said solemnly.

“Don’t be stupid,” I sighed. “You are the village.”

“…you hate the village…”

“Naruto.”

“What? Why are you making an angry face? Isn’t your goal in life to destroy Konoha and everything it holds dear?” he asked.

When had his futon gotten so close to mine?

“No.”

“…oh. Uh. Well, what do want, then?” he asked.

I was silent.

“Do you not trust me, or what?” he murmured, reaching across the small space between our futons to touch my arm.

I pulled away from the touch.

“Sasuke…” he said, sounding pained. “I thought we were figuring stuff out. Together. In a soulmatey kinda way. But I really don’t know what to do with your constant rejection.”

“You’re too damn sensitive,” I muttered. “Why do you have to take everything as a rejection? I’m just being me.”

“You literally just repelled from my touch like five seconds ago. I don’t think the rejection could be any clearer.”

I didn’t want to tell him that he was wrong, but I certainly didn’t want to tell him that he was right.

So I didn’t say anything at all.

Naruto sighed and rolled onto his other side, facing away from me.

I looked at his back, so familiar yet so foreign. I used to be able to just…

He turned back to look at me, surprised.

I hadn’t meant to touch him like that.

He put his hand over mine on his shoulder. His palm was sweaty, and it was too dark to see his eyes clearly.

“I’m going to leave the village,” he said, interlocking his fingers with mine.

I laughed at that. “Yeah, sure.”

“I don’t know for how long, but I don’t see what choice I have.”

“You’re serious?”

“We need to go out and find food and stuff. And do all that political crap like making sure our alliances are still intact. And I thought that you… I thought there was something you wanted to do.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“Do you need me to tell you how much I love you and how I never want to leave your side again?”

I did.

“I do,” he whispered, squeezing my hand.

“And what exactly is it that you think I want to do?” I asked, interrupting the moment before he started crying or something equally embarrassing.

“Expose the conspiracy, right?”

He said it so easily, like he wasn’t seeing right through me.

Of course I didn’t have to tell him about my dream world. Either of them. He knew the only two things that mattered to me.

I took my hand away.

He took that as permission to invade my personal space, his face right in front of mine. “Talk to me,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead to mine. “Tell me what you want. Help me figure out what we should do next.”

“We’re not a ‘we’.”

“Yes we are,” he said, unperturbed.

“And I’m a cripple so how are we supposed to do anything?”

“You’re getting better. I’ll rig up a cart or something if we need to go a long distance.”

“Do you have an answer for everything?”

“If I don’t, I’ll think of something eventually.”

“Where would we go?”

“I think the first thing is figuring out a sustainable food source,” he said. “Then we can kind of travel around, see what’s going on outside of Konoha. Take stock of any dangerous situations and take care of them ourselves if necessary. And then I was thinking we could… you know, learn more about clan massacres and stuff. Find evidence. Make it so people can’t just look the other way when that kind of shit happens.”

I kissed him out of habit, a habit that should have left me in my second dream world, if not by the time that I got to this third one. Fuck if I wasn’t more attracted to the idiot than ever before, though.

He kissed me back gently, slowly, lovingly, before pulling away. “I love you,” he whispered against my lips.

I almost said it back.

“So... uh…” he trailed off, still seeming a little dazed. “Um, is that what you want to do? Is my plan okay?”

“It needs some work,” I said, settling back on my back and pulling the covers up. “But it’ll do for now.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed, closing my eyes and waiting for my heart to stop racing before I could fade into sleep.

#narusasu #isola starting over

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gyeommark · 6 years

Text

vagary . ii

Chanyeol x Reader Genre: Angst. Fluff. Smut in future parts. Words: 5.5k Warnings: Strong language, mentions of alcohol use. A/N: Now, I’m deeply sorry for the delay, as some might know, I was having some issues but part two is finally here. Didn’t proof read but hope you enjoy (or not hate it, at least)! A/N2: Since tumblr is a b*tch with the links, you can find Vagary’s mini masterlist on my blog along with links to my other works .x

The heaviness in your chest when you woke up threw you off onto an uncertain abyss. A feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A fluttering nothingness.

You cursed to yourself, knowing very well that you had found yourself at the start of yet another rocky, dark, tormenting path and the welcoming sign had his name and face and, above all else, his endearing smile, all over it.

You judged yourself, trying to comprehend how it was humanly possible to dream of someone you had met only a limited amount of times through out the last month and yet he still haunted every nook and crevice of your mind.

“You’re doing it again…” Baekhyun huffed as he made you trip with his own foot as you two walked down the street after your lessons had ended, later than usual as the starry night looked out over you. You were thankful the day after was your day off.

“I’m doing what again?” You asked, clearly annoyed as you regained your balance and shot him the death glare.

“That thing you do when you’re daydreaming about something. I think they call it ‘smiling stupidly like a puppy begging for treats’… Just that puppies aren’t stupid but you, on the other hand…” Baekhyun laughed at his own joke as he tried to avoid the pinches and jabs you were throwing his way.

“I swear on everything that’s holy that I have no idea what you’re talking about right now”. You tried to shrug it off, sighing. Yes, you knew what he meant but did that mean you were going to admit you were thinking of a man continuously because it made you feel happy; or at least, less miserable, and that said man happened to be that friend of his he had been teasing you with continuously since you met him?

Hell, no. If needed be, you were willing to hold that secret close to your heart until the day you died, take it to your grave and up to heaven or down to hell, whichever way you would go after your passing, that didn’t really matter.

“Mhm… My dashing eyes may be on the smaller side but I’m not blind”. You laughed at Baekhyun’s comment. His confidence and self-esteem was something you strived to and one of the main reasons he was your best friend.

“Maybe not blind, just delusional”. You cackled as you struggled to open the door to your small apartment, hissing curse words under your breath. You made a mental note to call the locksmith to take a look at your front door.

“Hey!” He half yelled, half groaned as he smashed his hand onto the doorframe, blocking your way as he looked intently at you with furrowed brows and pursed lips. “Is it too much to ask to not have you insult me at any chance you get? I was just making an observation”.

As much as you wanted to maintain your offended expression, it was nearly impossible to do so with Baekhyun sporting his guilt-inducing pout. Not that it worked when it came to make you felt guilty, really, but the image of a grown man pouting was ridiculous so, to you, it was kind of funny.

“Well, I mean, delusional is not an insult but rather an adjective as I see it…” You tried to hold back your laugh as you pushed his extended arm out of your way.

“Oh, smarty-pants, I hope you drop your attitude before my showcase or I might as well take you off of my guest list and deprive you of a night filled with free drinks”. He threatened you with a finger pointing at you, dangerously close to your eyes.

“How could I survive?” You cackled as you replied sarcastically at him. “If only I worked as a bartender… Oh, wait”.

Baekhyun’s pout kept getting bigger, the more you talked back at him.

“Continue doing that. You wont get to see your precious Chanyeol boy until god-knows when”.

You wished, at that time, you had more self-control. You wished you could think before feeling and therefore before reacting. But you were either too dumb or too sentimental and, to your dismay, Baekhyun was too perceptive when he put his mind to it.

Maybe he had x-ray vision and he could see your stomach dropping to the ground at the mention of him; maybe he could see the hoards of whatever insect that were flying around your thorax, throwing themselves on to your ribcage, trying to escape. Maybe he could see you biting on the inside of your cheek and, maybe, he could see your heart beating with a fickle pace.

Maybe you were just too blunt. You probably had to work on that.

“Shut up. As far as I’m concerned, he’s your friend, not mine”. You shook your head before turning away from him and threw your bag someone behind your couch, trying to calm yourself down as you felt your hands start to tickle at the mere mention of a man you barely knew.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, you have far more interest in him than me but whatever…” Baekhyun scoffed and shrugged and you could still feel his eyes glued to your back; somehow, you knew he was smirking but you couldn’t brace yourself to turn around and smack him because you were far too focused on calming yourself down.

“Anyhow… I’ll let you to deal your mushy feelings by yourself”. As soon as you heard the door click closed, you groaned and threw yourself onto your sofa.

You had no idea how much time it had passed, since the lack of light indicated nothing whatsoever. It could either be 10 p.m. or two in the morning. Your sleep scheduled was already messed up so who gave a fuck?

Footsteps from around the corner startled you, yet not enough as to make you stand up.

“What the hell are you still doing here? I heard you come in like three hours ago”. You looked at your roommate, from the corner of your eye as you huffed.

“Too tired to move, Deb”. Besides Baekhyun, your roommate was probably the one who knew you the best, it was a shame they didn’t really get along… Or maybe it was for the best, if they united forces it would be the end for you and, honestly speaking, you weren’t really ready to deal with that.

“Tired from what?” She groaned as she poured herself a glass of water from the sink. “Arguing with your annoying friend over what’s-his-face?”

At her words, you immediately sat up straight, with a deep frown that was almost hurting your face muscles. Once she came back into your field of vision she swallowed her water and looked at you with a confused expression mixed with her remaining sleepiness.

Opposite from you, she had quite the organized life. Going to sleep early, taking morning classes and working part time on the afternoon, five days a week. You somewhat envied her determination and that, somehow, complimented your mess of a life, driven by pure dreams and desires.

“Did you hear that?” You questioned her, almost choking on your own saliva as you wiped your sweaty hands on your jean-covered legs.

“Well, I mean, your friend yells instead of talking, how did you expect me not to hear that?” You huffed, praying that she wouldn’t question you on Chanyeol. “And did you also expect me not to notice how out of it you’ve been? More than usual, I mean. I know its kind of like an artist’s trait but you suddenly started listening to corny songs while taking a shower? It’s kind of annoying but I mean, it’s none of my business”.

You pursed your lips into a hopeless smile, her words a confirmation that you weren’t as discrete as you thought you were and a strong motive for you to stay as far away from Chanyeol as possible.

It shouldn’t be that hard, you thought, he was just a fairly good-looking, charming acquaintance, that was it.

Park Chanyeol might as well become yet another meaningless crush. Like the ones you get when you’re riding the bus or the subway, or when you’re in line to check-out at the grocery store. He might as well be forgotten after a couple days, then again, why was he so rooted into your head after almost a month?

“Are you nervous?” You chuckled as you watched Baekhyun pace around the small excuse of a waiting room that the fancy bar had provided for him. You sipped on a beer, crossing your legs as you followed his restless figure as it moved from one end of the room to the other.

“Me? Nervous? Please, I was born for this” Baekhyun scoffed as he stole a daring glance from you. Where was Mr. Confidence when needed? You laughed at your own thought.

A knock on the door finally made Baekhyun stop on his tracks, you looked at the clock hanging on the wall, wondering if it was one of the staffs coming to tell him that it was his time to go onto the small, questionably stable stage.

You stood up, ready to leave when you saw a head peek from behind the door and immediately, your heart skipped a beat, quickly followed by a self scolding.

“Hey” Chanyeol smiled, messy hair almost covering his eyes, making you tingle all over. You hated the feeling, yet it felt nice at the same time. Bittersweet. “I just wanted to say hi before you went up and tell you to break a leg”. He smiled as he entered the room completely and your heart continued to not listen to your orders.

Baekhyun smiled brightly at him before stealing a glance in your direction.

“Remember my friend?” Baekhyun said, basically pulling you towards Chanyeol, you pursed your lips. “You could keep her company tonight, she’s bitter and doesn’t really talk to a lot of people unless forced to”.

Chanyeol chuckled and you wanted to look away from the dimple on his cheek but it was almost hypnotizing, drawing you in, making you angry at yourself for falling down that spiraling tunnel.

“How could I forget?” Chanyeol looked at you with his warm eyes and you had to remember how to smile but not too much at the same time. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe”. Chanyeol chuckled as he extended an arm in your direction and grabbed you by your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

You wanted to sneak a peek but then again, that might make you stare. It was dangerous to do anything when it was around him. You were starting to think that even the most mundane of things, like opening your mouth would end up on you doing something idiotic, like forgetting how to close your jack back up and then finding yourself with a damp spot on your shirt.

Yes, it was stupid but you couldn’t deny the possibility of it happening, unfortunately.

Breathing was, also, something so foreign to you at that moment; it was ridiculous that some man could have that effect on you.

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered between you and his giant friend and you could see that glint of mischievousness on his eyes, knowing that he’d tease you even more after tonight yet, Chanyeol’s gentle touch on your shoulder made you push that annoyance to the back of your head, getting lost in the tingling sensation that started at the pit of your stomach and threatened to invade the rest of your body in slow, torturously bubbly tides.

They started joking carelessly after that, as if nothing happened, as if you weren’t basically running out of oxygen and turning blue, as if Chanyeol’s hand wasn’t still lying on your shoulder carelessly.

A man’s voice called Baekhyun out a few minutes after and you three walked out the room and you managed to shrug off Chanyeol’s hand, not because you wanted to loose contact but because you didn’t want to die, not yet, at least.

Two months. Almost two months was all it took for you to realize you were fucked. Close to sixty days was all you needed to develop some sort of ‘feeling’ towards Chanyeol. You didn’t know if it was just the excitement of having someone new in your life, someone who shared some of your ideas, some of your points of view; someone whose presence felt like a cozy blanket around you and a cup of warm chocolate between your hands.

Chanyeol felt comfortable and a simple graze of his hand on your shoulder was all it took for you to realize that your mind couldn’t escape Park Chanyeol.

You sat opposite from him on the small table, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible. A part of you wanted to be close to him though, brush your knee against his accidentally and just live off of that because that was probably as much as you could get and you would be fine with that, but you also didn’t want to seem desperate.

You picket at the skin around your nails, trying to ignore the silence that fell upon you in, even in the moderately loud ambience, trying to ignore his eyes practically burning a hole on your cheek as you scanned the stage, waiting for Baekhyun to appear.

Another bottle of beer suddenly appearing before your eyes surprised you, you looked at the waiter with confusion painted over your face yet you still mouthed a polite thank you before looking at Chanyeol, questioning him silently.

“Wouldn’t want to mix alcohols tonight, would we?” Chanyeol chuckled, half yelling at you. Such a simple action, him noticing how you were drinking beer at the waiting room was all it took for your heart to fly away to another dimension. You cursed under your breath, and even then, you couldn’t suppress the smile on your lips.

“Thank you”. You yelled back, struggling to catch your breath. Chanyeol smiled back and you wanted to tell him to not do that, that it was hard enough for you to just have him there but, of course, that wouldn’t be appropriate of you.

“You and Baekhyun seem quite close”. Chanyeol said after a couple minutes, leaning over the table. Your legs trembled seeing how his body got closer to you.

“He’s like an annoying brother, you could say” You laughed, looking at the stage once more, forcing your eyes away from Chanyeol’s face, flawlessly illuminated by the blue and pink lights, making him look even more endearing.

“He’s always had a pretty good taste when it comes to his friends, if I do say so myself”. Chanyeol chuckled and raised his eyebrows at you as he saw you gulping down on your beer, little did he know you were just doing that to avoid yourself from giggling like a dumbass, in reality, the alcohol consumption would only make things worse, but it was the only solution you could come up with at the moment.

“We’ll see… I’m still unsure about that”. That was what riled you up about yourself, how sometimes you couldn’t just stay quiet and couldn’t filter your thoughts. You weren’t sure if you said that to appear cold hearted or if you were saying it to sound flirty but Chanyeol’s eyebrows shooting upwards for a millisecond and him smirking as he leaned in even closer to you made you think it probably sounded like the latter.

“Oh, a doubtful one”. He chuckled, sipping on his beer before smiling widely at you. “I see how it is, then”. By that moment, you had already grown accustomed to the non-stop pounding coming from inside your chest, making your ribcage tremble with anticipation.

“You see, I barely know you, so…” You squinted your eyes at him before shrugging and mirrored his position as you leaned your elbows on the table, reducing the distance between you. A dangerous decision, indeed.

“Maybe you should get to know me better, then, and I will gladly prove you wrong”. Speechless due to his smooth answer, you refrained yourself and just smiled.

The lights dimmed right in that moment, something you didn’t know if you were grateful for or angry at, but then you saw Baekhyun taking his place in the middle of the small stage and you clapped and yelled loudly, remembering that the reason you were here was because of your friend and not because of Chanyeol, although your mind and heart still had a bit of trouble figuring that out.

“To Baekhyun”. Chanyeol said as he scooted his stool closer to you and tipped his beer bottle in your direction. You smiled, clinking your bottle to his before taking a sip and even then, the corners of your mouth were never able to return to their normal position.

Baekhyun’s voice took over the atmosphere at the crowded bar, it even muffled the murmur of people talking over the sound of the loud music, his voice was the type that was strong yet sweet at the same time, and you smiled even wider than you were doing before.

In the sense that you were happy and proud of him, not that it was that important, because who were you to have an important opinion anyways? But you still felt happy and proud of your friend’s accomplishments, and most of all, his happiness was contagious so, if Baekhyun was happy, so were you and if he was not… Well, if that was the case, he only turned into an annoying human being, period.

“He’s killing it”. You mumbled, realizing a little too late that you were thinking out loud and that there was still a certain presence next to you. Your eyes widened for a split second before giggling nervously as you drank yet another sip of your beer as you stole some looks form the corner of your eye.

Chanyeol laughed silently, as his shoulders moved up and down a little bit, just accentuating the fact that he, apparently, had a thing for working out and wearing tight black shirts.

“You have a nice smile”. You almost choked, putting down the bottle and looking at him with squinted eyes.

“And you have a loose mouth”. You scoffed, standing up and patting his shoulder unceremoniously. “I will need more alcohol for this”. You blurted out as you stepped away and practically rushed to the busy bar, too nervous to wait for a waiter to come around and take your order.

It was like having your body, mind and heart divided into two in the most obvious annoying manner. Chanyeol wasn’t making things easier on you, if anything, every single one of your inner issues had been enhanced ever since you realized you might have developed some sort of chemical reaction called ‘attraction’ towards him.

One half of your whole being was set on acting cold and quick-witted towards him, maybe that way he’d step away before it got too much to handle, yet the other part was almost falling apart at the mere thought of being close to him, seeing him smile or laugh at whatever you said, telling you sweet nothings that most likely meant nothing.

So, your response, -or getaway if you may- to all this was that of every responsible adult out there: alcohol. Curse your sarcastic, yet overly attached nature.

Well into Baekhyun’s second song, you were still standing at the bar waiting for your next round of beer. You locked eyes with your friend as he smiled widely while singing, earning an exaggerated thumbs up from your part. It was okay, it felt nice to forget the frenzy of his presence even if it was for just a couple minutes.

You turned around when you heard the mature looking bartender call you to hand you your two bottles of beer but then, when you turned around again, ready to head back to your torture spot, you felt something falling with a thud inside of your chest; nothing hurt, not really, there was just a hint of heaviness inside of you when you saw a new person sitting on the chair that used to be yours until just a few minutes ago.

But what enhanced the feeling wasn’t the new companionship but the fact that he seemed to be acting exactly the same towards her than he was doing with you before. Then again, who were you to feel special?

That’s when everything started to go downhill, more so than before. That’s when you realized you heart was starting to feel something towards someone you barely knew. That’s when you realized you were fucked up. If Chanyeol was truly insignificant for you, you wouldn’t have felt the thud when you saw him smiling and laughing with his glistening, round, puppy eyes and prominent dimple over something another woman was saying.

If Chanyeol was truly no one, you wouldn’t have cared, you would’ve just walked back to him and greeted the new acquaintance with a smile. But that wasn’t the case, your whole weight fell to your ankles and you hesitated on your spot.

Would you put yourself out there to potentially get your little, naïve heart broken or just leave and pretend nothing happened? Would you leave Baekhyun alone when he counted on you just because things didn’t turn out the way you were expecting with a man you could only, foolishly, crush on?

Hell no, but were you about to endure all that with a sober body? Again, hell no.

“You know what, give me a shot”. You said as you waved to the bartender, who only laughed a little before pouring you your clear looking and who stared at you with pursed lips as you downed it in one go, without a single flinch.

You took a deep breath, holding a bottle in each hand as you walked back to the table, trying your very best to maintain a poker face as got nearer and nearer to the pair who had made you take a stupid tequila shot.

Whether you liked to admit it or not, whoever the female was, she was good looking yet too petite for your taste, specially sitting next to Chanyeol. She raised her eyebrows at you, probably wondering who you were and what the hell you were doing there, interrupting their deep conversation. Hence the sarcasm, you were feeling bitter, so much it even translated onto your thoughts and probably your uncontrollable facial expressions, as well.

Chanyeol followed his friend’s stare until his eyes fell upon you again, maybe he had forgotten you were there and you wouldn’t be surprised, if you were being honest.

“Ah…”. He stuttered as he stood up, almost jumping and knocking down his stool in the process. His eyes frantically traveling from you to the other female. You tried to put the best, fakest smile you could. Not that you cared anymore, but you had to be polite, for Baekhyun’s sake. “Jiae, this is Baekhyun’s friend I was telling you about”. Chanyeol said with a smile as he introduced you two.

Maybe it was what the call the female sixth sense, or maybe you were too sensitive, or maybe it was that shot already having its scary effect on you, but you were convinced she already hated you.

Was that a reflection of what you were feeling, though? No, of course, you had barely met her, hate was a strong word. Dislike, on the other hand…

“Nice to meet you”. You pursed your lips onto a smile as you sat at the other side of the table, facing her as you pushed one of your beer bottles towards her. “Here, you can have it”. She gave you a small smile as she took the bottle in her hand.

Could that have been considered hypocrisy? You weren’t sure. You just didn’t want to make it obvious that you weren’t comfortable anymore, maybe your actions would backfire, then again, you didn’t give a single shit anymore.

After another ten minutes or so, as Baekhyun was taking a break somewhere backstage and you were almost finished with your second beer, you felt her eyes on you. You turned to see her with your eyebrows raised, trying your best not to appear arrogant.

“How long have you known Baekhyun?” She asked, smile not quite reaching her eyes. You cleared your throat as you leaned back. Her presence repelled you, exactly the opposite of how you felt when it was only Chanyeol and you alone. Chanyeol who had been far too quiet since you came back to the table.

“Couple years or so, I’m not sure”. You mumbled, hoping she wouldn’t hear you and she’d just let the forced conversation die without much effort.

“Funny, I haven’t met you before”. You had to take a deep, discrete, breath in order to maintain the rest of your questionably sober sanity in place and not let it disappear in resentment’s hands.

“Baekhyun doesn’t really introduces me to his friends, he fears they might like me better”. You said, almost chuckling when you heard the distant sound of Chanyeol’s stifling a laugh. Whether that was a good or a bad sign, you weren’t sure.

Once Baekhyun’s presentation was done and the loudness of the bar hit your ears at full volume once again, you felt like it was too much to handle so when you caught your friend walking over in your direction, you stood up once again, with the excuse of getting more drinks.

Chanyeol looked at you with wide eyes, mirroring your actions.

“Please, let me, you should keep her company”. You smiled, probably pouring too much bile on to your words, probably not. However he might interpret them was clearly not up to you anymore.

Baekhyun stopped on his tracks as he was just a less than a meter away from you and followed you suit once you were halfway to the counter, yet again.

“I see you’ve met Jiae”. Baekhyun chuckled, leaning his elbows on the slightly wet surface as you silently asked for another round of beers to the bartender, putting up four fingers in the process. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“If this is you trying to be funny, I’m sorry to disappoint but I’m not picking up on your humor right now”. You scoffed, trying to avoid eye contact as you also tried to avoid the painful rumbling in your chest.

Jealousy was a scary, funny thing, especially when you were too stubborn to acknowledge it in the first place.

“Okay, so the bitter evil twin is out to play now, I get it”. Baekhyun chuckled, emotionlessly as he copied your stance. “Should I have mentioned her existence before to spare me the burning and scarring your words are causing on my skin and soul?” Baekhyun raised his eyebrows as he took a hand to his chest, mocking an inexistent pain.

“Why would you? It’s not like I should be interested on your friend’s life, anyways”. You mumbled, and even with the loud music and ambiance, Baekhyun was able to hear you perfectly fine, to your disgrace.

“Listen, you can pretend all you want with everyone else, act like the Ice Queen or whatever, but you’re never going to fool me. So what’s the deal if you admit you like someone? It’s not like the world’s going to end because of that, it’s a human thing… You meet someone, you like someone, maybe you date, maybe you don’t; maybe you just become fuck buddies, what’s the big deal”.

Baekhyun shrugged, stealing a glance from you, probably scared you would jump on his throat due to his accusing comments.

“The human reasonable thing to do here would be stepping away when someone you like, likes someone else, and actually has someone else. Chanyeol is a platonic crush and I won’t interfere with whatever he has going on with that Jiae girl; I don’t have the time nor the patience for that kind of drama”.

It was Baekhyun’s turn to scoff as he shook his head in either annoyance or disbelief.

“Here’s a friendly comment from your most professional, caring advisor. Chanyeol is a peculiar man with peculiar taste, a peculiar man who rarely opens up with anyone. If he, for whatever reason, chooses to talk to someone and get to know them is because that someone has sparked something in him… Then again, the relationship between him and Jiae is still a mystery to everyone because, like I said, he has like a phobia to opening up… Take that as you wish, it was just a comment”.

You looked at him with a slight frown and pursed lips as your beers appeared before you along with another shot, a glass you didn’t ask for but apparently there was an unspoken of, bartender psychic ability to spot an annoyed person.

“Please keep your friendly comments at bay when you know they won’t help and will just make things worse”. You huffed, turning around with Baekhyun trailing close behind you.

“So… Does that mean you like like Chanyeol?” You groaned, downing the shot and leaving the empty glass on an empty table that came across your way.

“Let’s act like I don’t, for everyone’s sake”. You shook your head as you looked down at your feet, trying not to trip over someone else’s feet, or your own, for that matter. The mixing of beer and tequila was something you weren’t approving of, then again, it was the best to drown your sorrows on. Unless they were too unbearable and then you had to add vodka to the mix.

Thankfully you weren’t there yet.

Yet.

You were a martyr but not a drunken one, thankfully. Or maybe you just loved to play the victim role.

You saw Chanyeol looking over his shoulder, he seemed quieter than before. Jiae had her arms crossed over her chest as she analyzed the now empty stage. Maybe she should’ve done that when Baekhyun was on, instead of having her eyes fixed on you, trying to burn a hole through your throat.

Meeting eyes with someone was a dangerous thing, regardless of the situation. Words were less than needed when two pairs of eyes met and, in this case, you wished you could’ve avoided Chanyeol’s gaze because it only made your chest feel heavier than it already was and it made your legs tremble more than they were already doing; no amount of alcohol could even come close to the effect Chanyeol’s dark eyes had on you and you wanted to reboot yourself, put a chip in your system that would prevent you from liking a man you’ve met less than five times before.

Chanyeol pursed his lips onto a thin, undecipherable smile as he stepped aside from his chair, extending an arm on the inanimate object’s direction.

“Take a seat, we’re short on seats”. His voice was low, raspier than usual. You cleared your throat before shaking your head a couple times and placing the two bottles you were holding on the table, a bit too strongly than necessary.

“I will share with Baekhyun”. You said back, an emotionless façade taking over your expressions.

It was easier keeping your distance than dealing with the overflowing, confusing emotions.

Once Baekhyun caught up to your comment, he nodded quickly, awkwardly sitting on one half of the stool as you took your place next to him.

Chanyeol was a tornado, your heart and mind were a house with a weak foundation and a lack of insurance. He had swap you off your feet only to drag you back down a bit too harshly to your liking, then again, there was nothing that needed to be said when you knew you had been the one to make a mistake.

The mistake of idealizing someone you only knew the name of but you couldn’t help the gravitational pull he seemed to have on you.

It would’ve been easier if you had never met his eyes. It would have been easier if you wouldn’t have gotten lost on his charming smile and sweet, smart speech.

It would’ve been easier if there was no Jiae but you knew there was a code. Whatever relationship they had, it was none of your business and you knew you shouldn’t interfere so you just smiled, a forced, surrendered smile.

You didn’t expect Chanyeol to notice, at that point you had forced yourself to admit that he would be the epitome of platonic in your life and that you had to be okay with it. You didn’t expect him to smile back at you with the same smile, he looked defeated and apologetic but you forced yourself to disregard him.

It was the logical, reasonable thing to do but Chanyeol’s mere presence made you question every decision and thought that ever crossed your mind and apparently, everyone in that table noticed it as well.

#chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fluff #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo scenarios #exo scenario #gyeommark writes #vagary

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shadowedtalks · 5 years

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Medieval Times part 1

Hello! I am back with a new story. this one is a special one! this is actually one of my active Stories I have with a co author. we are on a small hiatus so I am taking the time to edit clean up line up details an make it look pretty basically an they have so lovingly given me permission to post their parts of it without having to change out their character. thank gosh! much love to my co author for your help in writing this wonderful story an I truly hope my edits do it justice.))

Cardinal gave a deep breath as finally. Finally they made it to the capital city. Within the hour they would be at the castle. It was nice to know that after such a long trip, 10 long days, It was finally gonna be over soon. But from there on ward was a whole new story, that if she was honest, She was not looking forward to.

Cardinal gave another silent sigh from her perch on the back of the carriage. Her lord had made it bluntly obvious that he was... flustered. So she had a rather clear idea of what tonight would entail if it did not involve her directly. It was a blur, almost, arriving at the place.

Her lord was whisked away by staff to turn in documents and prep for tonight's party after just a bit of rest. Cardin however, like she was supposed to, kept as a shadow to him. She was brought as a personal guard because of such a lengthy journey to attend this summit of lords, an that is what she would be, no matter how pointless it was at arriving at the outer walls of the castle.

Regardless people were stirred up at the appearance of a masked warrior. Even more so when word got around that 'The Fox Warrior' was here. She had never seen people spare so many glances her way, both with fright and some kind of admiration... Some even desire which was rather uncomfortable to see but externally non knew of her discomfort. She would keep it that way. As the Perfect statute. Body language was a thing she learned to manipulate early on as it got her into a lot of trouble originally when she was young. her attire helped with this as well.

Time continued to blur together as preparations were made her lord got dressed and eventually left to the party in the main ball room. He was announced and off to mingle he went. She however practically became a wall decoration. Just watching and watching and watching. It was so mind numbing an boring!

He would greet an old friend, see an introduction of a new person. Then it was Talk about lands, brag about prospects, share a laugh, a drink and on to the next old friend. Wash rinse and repeat till the evenings end. It was not something she had a desire to watch all night but she would, till she took notice of an opening that normally she would over look and forget about, but she saw it and being incredibly bored of the environment an not needed if the other guards playing wall decoration was something to take note off, she took the opportunity she saw. If she was caught she would never hear the end of it from her lord but right now it was worth the risk.

Moving from her spot on the wall, she moved to a empty door way. No guard, an not many party goers. Walking normal, like she was sent off to do something, she slipped out the door without so much as the Click of the door that closed behind her letting others know she had left.

Looking along the dark hallway on the other side of the door she let out a deep breath again. Letting a little tension melt away somewhat. As she took a left seeing a window. And further down what looked to be a door leading outside. An sure enough it lead to a garden area.

She took in a deep breath an looked up to see a moonless night. The new moon. She wandered just a little bit before spotting a large oak tree and moving taking a seat at its base between two large roots. Relaxing back she closed her eyes for a moment reaching up to adjust the mask that sat on her face a little bit better and then looked off. Listening to everything. the breeze, the steps of walking men along the walls and the grounds, the soft sounds of the party in the far distance. She just listened, taking in all she could of this small stolen break. It was nice to rest just some. She looked up at the sky waiting till a time where she felt she had to return. Which would prove to be sooner rather then later in her feeling of having to get back without being noticed.

Across the palace grounds Kaiser took a moment an held his chainmail in front of him looking at it as he dressed. A cloth was stitched in with the weaves of the metal showing off his newly obtained rank as a castle guard. He had just barely passed the training of the magical arts. His affinity to magic was reveled to be force. Granting him the ability to quickly and suddenly increase his strength for brief instances. Of course with it still being under developed, it severely depleted his stamina leaving it a mostly one off skill that took a lot of back building to do any major damage to a large area or several people.

Continuing to dress, He strapped on the metal plates for his arms and legs. Placed his sword in its scabbard and fastened to his left hip. As he finished the guard he was due to relieve, so he can start his shift, arrived. He left out of the barracks an the captain of the guard stopped him to explain of a upcoming party that evening that the guard will be required to watch over. It was mostly To keep special guests safe in celebration of the start of a summit as well as to explain that their would be special guards accompanying various guests as personal protection for the event from having to travel far distances in order to attend the summit. listing the few already in attendance as guests had been arriving in a slow steady stream since that early morning. This explanation would take a while as the Captain an Kaiser traversed the grounds.

Sitting there for what felt like a while she heard a lull begin in the patrolling foot steps. Shift change. She slowly got up from her spot dusting off a bit of grass and dirt from her clothing before she began wandering again looking at flowers, bushes, an few young trees growing. Some she recognized others not so much.

She still didn't go to far from her original spot before turning to wander back the way she came. Making the same passes a few times before she found herself back at the oak tree. She brushed a gloved hand along the bark of the tree. She could almost feel its hum of energy below her hand. she took just a moment more Before stepping up on a root and jumping slightly to grab a branch higher up and pull herself up into the foliage. She could feel a soft desire to go for a run. Yet she knew she couldn't not here, nor at this time, so as a result she did feel a bit restless.

Giving another soft sigh she leaned back into the tree from the branch she sat on letting one of her legs dangle back and forth. As she went back to listening to all around her. The pick up of slight chatter an increased foot steps once again as shift came into activity again and the wind moving threw the tree feeling its presence and smell wrap around her as she sat their looking off and up into the tree.

As the two headed for the door across the grass to reach a section in the back of a the event hall the captain's eyes looked upward lingering on a lone oak tree for a moment. Kaiser took notice of his momentary pause and turned to look where he was. Only to see the garden swaying peacefully with the wind.

"See something captain?" Kaiser shifted around trying to see what he noticed.

"Nothing ya moppet just the wind I suppose. Now let's hurry only a short time now before the shift change ends And we mustn't be late, can't have an area without at least one posted guard."

They went through the door she had come from. Kaiser took position in a large room in a corner off to the side. 'Large groups of people. Weird clothes and all of the sorted food an decorations so uncomfortable an fake.' he thought. One of the wandering guards that looped the hall during the event walked up to him.

He was A veteran of 3 years for the royal guard, making space the man moved standing beside him . Kaiser looked straight ahead seeming to pay no mind to his appearance.

"Hey. I grabbed ya bit of the good food while I passed by. Don't let em catch ya eating."

Kaiser took the chance to eat the nicer bits of bread and a slice of cheese made of higher quality than they'd ever see when he passed it to him. As Kaiser ate the guard pointed out on of the guests.

"That one there. The Lord of the hour. The Lord of....I don't remember but that's not important right? Right." giving Kaiser no time to respond he continued speaking keeping a low tone.

"That one, if I heard right, is protected by THE silver fox warrior. Heard many a fine story of that one. I must say though, I don't feel quite right knowing we let something like that inside. Amazing tales of grandeur an strength but at the same time I am not so naïve as to think those are not horror tales either. Rumored is that they are quite the monster to those that appose em. Haven't seen em since they arrived however. I'd at least like to see what could kill me right? Guess they live up to their rumored skill of being practically a ghost." He then walked off towards another section of the castle with a soft hearty chuckle. Kaiser pondered what he said.

"I guess everyone needs some time off eventually..." was all he could think to reply as to why the rumored fox warrior wasn't present at the party despite being clamed to be present at the castle. Kaiser had seen many intimidators of said warrior an wasn't all too convinced that this one was the real one, he would have to wait an see, he supposed, if the opportunity arises to see this particular warrior taking the role of the rumor was to be the true narrative or a false record.

#storytime #new story #part1 #medieval times #co-author written

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dcarevu · 6 years

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Pretty Poison

“No strychnine. But I added just a pinch of vanilla!”

SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT

I experienced poison ivy when I was a kid. The rash was all over my leg, and I gave it plenty of time to spread before finally seeing a doctor. It was absolutely miserable. But y’know… At least I can say that never during that time did I ever need to deal with a man-eating plant, a dying friend stuck in ICU, or the slow feeling of poison dragging me straight down into my cactus-filled grave.

Villain: Poison Ivy

Robin: No Writer: Tom Ruegger (teleplay), Paul Dini (story), Michael Reaves (story) Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Sunrise Airdate: September 14, 1992 Episode Grade: A

Now this is what I’m talking about!

Okay, so the show thus far has been good. I’ve been enjoying starting it from scratch and watching it in its proper order. And Char who is completely new to the show has liked it a lot as well. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by her reactions. And of course, there was always the thought that maybe it just wouldn’t end up being her type of thing (not that it would be the worst thing in the world by any means). But if you’ve noticed, I haven’t given any episodes a rating above a B yet. But I knew this episode was coming. I knew it was a great one. And it didn’t let either of us down. Eventually we will get to the safe zone of the series, where the show becomes much more consistent, and consistently great at that. Everything evens out, and the identity is solidified. I don’t think we are quite at that point yet, but I do consider this episode to be a sign post that says, “Just a little bit further!” I want to reiterate that the past 4 episodes have not been bad! B is a good grade, and even C is passing. But, yeah, look at who wrote this episode. When Paul Dini is involved, that’s usually a very good sign right there. In my opinion, he was one of the best (if not the best) things to happen to the DC Animated Universe. Tom Ruegger is another creator whom I have much appreciation for (Animaniacs and Freakazoid, yes please), and as far as Michael Reaves, I’m not too familiar with what he’s done, but we’ll learn as we advance through the series I suppose!

This episode felt so adult compared to the past bunch! We get Bruce out with his friend Harvey Dent, doing realistic adult things. We have relationship talk. We have talk about the building and funding of a penitentiary. We have some really grim looks at inside the hospital as Harvey Dent is being carted away. We have our most complex villain so far (Joker would become more complex as the show went on, however, rivaling Ivy). In fact, let’s talk about our villain this episode.

Poison Ivy is adorably evil. Like, seriously. She’s so cute. It’s really tragic, because, surprise, she’s another Batman villain who isn’t quite all there. I mean, she waits five years, hunts down a pretty high-profile person in a fairly large city, attracts him to the point of him wanting to marry her after a week of knowing her (despite what we find out later about our pal Harvey), then severely poisons him with virtually no hope of cure. Jeez, lady! Now that’s the type of woman you want. In Char’s words, “Um, you’re kinda being evil, honey.” Interestingly, we had a conversation about serial killers before watching this episode because, well, I don’t know, that’s something that emo-aesthetic college-aged young adults talk about…and a book that she is reading called Great Lakes Serial Killers by Wayne Louis Kadar mentions that female serial killers poison 80% of the time when it comes to method. Also, it’s generally common knowledge that female serial killers can often be in it for things like money, revenge, or similar things. I’m not sure if the writing team did their research, of if it was a complete coincidence, but Poison Ivy aligns heavily with this, and it brings in a real-world aspect. Even if we also get a man-eating plant out of it.

Poison Ivy is also a case of someone being an extremist when it comes to what she believes is right. She cares for plants as much as many of us care for our own pets. This is a little strange, but all well and good until we get to the stage of murder being the right answer to someone digging up a few endangered roses. And the thing is, watching her heart shatter as, say, she murders her own plant with a small arrow, or as her greenhouse bursts into flames…you almost feel for her. This isn’t an act, and she truly does not consider herself an evil person. In her opinion, Harvey Dent (and even Bruce Wayne) completely deserve the gravestone. They murdered an innocent plant. But her reality does not match society’s, and this is some severely antisocial, dangerous behavior. She needs serious help, and watching her being locked up in Stonegate as opposed to Arkham is sad (not to mention ironic, considering it’s the very thing that lead her to commit this particular crime). She could be a good person if she were cured. She’s super smart. Graduated as a scientist. Has potential to be a really caring person. But one too many screws are loose here. You want Batman to stop her. But you’re also glad he saves her and her flowers. I like that she got to keep them in her cell. Although knowing the damage this plant can do to someone, I’m not sure if it was really the best idea. Hell, if she wanted to, she could probably eat some of the leaves to kill herself, assuming that she has yet to build up a strong immunity.

We also see in this episode that Bruce Wayne is indeed capable of having a social life, and it’s so sincere that you almost forget that much of it is likely very contrived. They play with this a little bit as Harvey describes Bruce to Ivy, mentioning the things that he knows about him while cutting back to Batman demonstrating that Harvey is indeed correct, but in the most ironic ways possible. I do think that Bruce does channel real parts of him to portray the character which he portrays. But I also think that he leaves a lot of himself in the cowl, and when he walks around in his suit and tie, a lot of him is an empty shell of a man. I’m not saying he’s not human. Bruce can have fun. He can laugh. He can be a genuinely warm guy. He also has a lot to hide, though. He takes small parts of a normal business personality and runs with them as far as he can, stretching them out quite thin.

Despite this episode being a massive step up in maturity, it’s not without its fun. Bullock running back for doughnuts is a predictable gag, but I’m not going to pretend that it didn’t get a laugh out of me. What an arrogant slob this dude is. And yet as we watch him interrogating the kitchen staff of the restaurant Harvey collapsed at, we’re glad he’s in the show, and once again reminded that we love to be annoyed by him. He’s someone I would still worry about if he were in danger. He’s someone I want to ultimately be happy and find success. But I also want him to improve as a human being. All while wanting him to remain exactly the way he is so I can continue to want these things and root for him for the rest of the show. We root for him in different ways than he roots for himself.

Some other classic Batman TAS things happen too. Bruce steals the blood sample from the hospital, knowing damn well that taking matters into his own hands is the only viable option. We get Alfred being a genuinely great butler, father-figure, and sidekick all at once (look out, Robin, you’ve got some competition). And we even got a stylish sepia-toned flashback, which ties in great to the plot of the episode. That moment when the gears turn in our minds and we realize Poison Ivy’s motive is great. We’re taking off, guys. I was excited about finally starting this show again. I was having fun with the last 4 episodes (and pilot). And now with this one, I’m feeling just like I was when I first watched the entirety of Batman however many years ago.

By the way, while Poison Ivy is hot, this show in general has been even hotter. There have been a lot of fires! There was an explosion in On Leather Wings that leads to a fire. We had a fire in Nothing To Fear. In The Last Laugh, Batman is suspended above a fire at a dumpster. And now we have another one in this episode. Jesus, Batman oughta exchange his mask for a fire helmet. Because of this, I propose we keep a fire tally. Not just for Batman either. Let’s keep it going for the entire DCAU just for a bit of fun. I’m sure there will be some more counts that pop up as I notice more tropes, but keep in mind, this is purely for my own entertainment. It’s not to knock one of my favorite shows!

Fire count: 4 Char’s grade: A Major firsts: Poison Ivy, Renee Montoya

Next time: The Underdwellers

For blog entires on every episode of the DC Animated Universe, follow DCArevU! I update as frequently as I can, watching and writing between school, work, and general life stresses. Feel free to watch along with me! Check out the episode list, which can easily be found via the side bar of the blog!

#dcau #dc animated universe #batman tas #pretty poison #batman the animated series #poison ivy

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dissonancedance · 6 years

Photo

In that moment, the ghost he had once been searching for in her blood had come back alive, but the idea of succeeding did not bring the reward he had so often dreamt it would. That steel in her eyes belonged to an impossible dream he now saw as a nightmare.

Chapter 93 of Closing the Distance now available on AO3.

The needle settled onto the record with a soft hiss that ushered up an orchestra, though the composer and era were beyond Vidar’s knowledge or ability to identify. On the faded paper disk at the center of the record, he could make out that it was Russian, or at least the record itself was made in Russia by its lettering. As with most things he had found lately, a closer look did nothing to decipher the mysteries surrounding him. He let the violins play only to distract him as he interacted with where his eye used to be.

Now that the swelling had receded and the wound had healed without incident over the past two months, the plastic conformer plumped up the patchwork flap of his eyelid to its once natural shape, but the slice from his hairline to his cheek had rendered some of the connective structures and nerve damage too tedious for the medical staff to address. That chasm of baby pink scar tissue confirmed that he would never regain full mobility in that side of his face to furrow his brow or blink with what they had salvaged of his eyelid. He held no lasting resentment towards them for their negligence; they were consistently overworked and lacked the necessary equipment for such delicate repairs.

Nonetheless, anyone who looked at him would see how his life held horrible violence and he would bare the evidence of this trauma for all his life, unable to conceal and lie towards normalcy again. The choice to be anything but what he really was had been cut away from him, but there had never really been a choice to begin with. Insanity had a way of slipping through masks.

The conformer slid out with a scoop of his fingernail and the plastic shell clattered in the sink before he tossed it in the wastebasket.

“I am not sterilizing that thing for you again,” Maier said, his wheels coming to stop at the edge of the bathroom doorway.

Vidar clicked his tongue and ground out, “I never wanted you to in the first place. I’ve decided against prosthesis.”

“You’ve decided against prosthesis like you’ve decided against clothes, then? These are both concepts geared towards the general comfort of those who must look at you, so I cannot say that I am surprised at your predictable lack of courtesy.”

“Pajamas are for pneumonic grandmas and Catholics. If you don’t want to ‘bare witness’ to my dick, then don’t come knocking on my door at five in the fucking morning.”

“If you rose at reveille, I would not have to. Besides, it is nothing of yours that I have not seen before.”

“You’re welcome to get more acquainted with it if you want to give your mouth something better to do than bitch all day.”

“I have not the time nor the inclination, Mr. Valstad. There is no room for penalty chores on our schedule today, so I implore you to not make us late to the morning drill again.”

Vidar wiped the rim of his gnarled socket with short, gentle swipes, still not entirely used to the sensation of rooting around this far inside his skull. “And what service to the glory of Ouroboros is on our schedule today? More inventory? Data entry? Cataloging invoices?”

“I cannot say. We are to report to the Doctor at eleven-hundred.”

The sour pit of Vidar’s stomach dropped in a reflexive panic, dragging back up as he willed calm back into his composure and strapped the eyepatch over his socket. “It’s about time.”

“Not yet.”

Sweat crawled down Simone’s face, dripping off the tip of her nose and chin to add to the puddle on the floor, and she worried that tears might soon join it if she had to maintain the pose any longer. Her entire abdomen burned with the effort it took not to bend or sag in the rigid position, but the board of nails brushing her belly with each shaking breath did well to remind her of her form. These 3 AM workouts were going to kill her.

She watched two more drops fall before huffing out, “Now?”

“Not yet,” Leif repeated, tapping her flank with the long wooden rod he had taken to using to instruct her.

A grunt shoved its way past her teeth as she rebalanced her stance. The rod lingered on her hip, each millisecond of its presence causing her paranoia to rapidly shift between checking her form and assuring herself that her form was perfect until the smooth oak began to slide up her side, dragging her shirt up with it. The relief that he was not correcting some unknown mistake was short-lived when the rod left her only to quickly swat against her ribs in an explosion of unfathomable agony for an instrument so slant.

“AH! OW! Mother-fucking why!?” she shouted, fists clenched and back bowed inward to contain the pain.

“Mind your position,” Leif scolded wearily, tapping her back with the tip of the rod to correct her.

Simone snarled up at him, teeth bared and eyes blazing with a rage that fizzled down when they met his stern and unaffected gaze, but her anger did not abate enough to stop her from grinding out, “I was!”

“You need to practice self-discipline,” he said, and regret doused the rest of her ire in a cold bath of fear when he moved to kneel all the way down to her eye level. “You must not let pain control you, darling. Invite it to flow through you as part of you — a guest in your existence, not an enemy to conquer. Pain is conditional; you mustn’t be ruled by the conditional. Now, mind your position.”

Those too-familiar words hit her with a memory she didn’t want to consider again. She took a calming breath, ignored the shiver that rattled it, and reclaimed her perfect stance in an attempt to draw her focus elsewhere. Arms straight, palms flat on the floor and aligned with her shoulders, all the right muscle groups tight, engaged, and on fire. When the next strike came, she was not surprised. The oak rod cut through the air with an audible whoosh that ended with a slap on her skin and a bright burst of pain in her side, but it did not nearly bowl her over or force out a shout this time. Instead, she sucked in a quavering gasp and held it, shifting her focus until her perception of the pain shifted with it.

The agony that sparked along her nerves also brought the mercy of endorphins to blunt her pain receptors and stimulate the neurological processes associated with pleasure. She knew these biological tricks to mollify and soothe, but the euphoria that clouded everything in a dense and dizzying pleasantness still amazed her. When the rod struck her the third time, the gasp it forced from her was not one of protest. The rod lingered, suspicion heavy in the weight of it, and she knew he had sensed the shift in her. Her cheeks burned in a humiliated blush that she hoped he couldn’t see from his angle over her.

“That’s enough,” he announced, pulling the rod away from her battered side.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up and wiped the dust from her hands as she walked off the burn and nervousness in her abdomen. The three thick red lines along her side were already inflamed with the promise of bruises to come, ready to join the others that her father had made in his constant mission to instill true discipline in her. Pain was the easy part of punishment. Pain was simple, conditional, fleeting; a rude guest in her body that would take its leave or make a chronic home where the damage was lasting. Transmuting the pain he gave into something akin to pleasure was not supposed to be part of the lesson, but that was the lesson he had taught her in his bed and it could not be unlearned. Simone rubbed the marks, her hand absently trailing down to the pink line over her uterus as she continued to pace the length of the sparse room. Not every pain could be changed.

The pressure of his stare forced the issue to boil to the surface, tangling that knot of anxiety in her tight enough to wring out a muttered, “‘Pain is the most poignant reminder that you are still alive’.”

Leif’s brow twitched in what could have been anything from mild curiosity to guarded shock. “Who told you that?”

There was a good eight feet of space between them, but she wasn’t sure if she could dodge him if he came at her. There was no stuffing this cat back in the bag now, not after it had been clawing at the walls of her mind for this long. Her brave front got her as far as meeting his gaze, then dwindled under the intensity of his focus.

“You did,” she answered. His stillness was even more unnerving than his stare, making her sick with dread at wherever she was treading with this topic, but not as sick as holding it within her. “I was eight, or nine, I don’t… I just know that you showed me the picture of the monk on fire and you said that to me… and then you cut open your arm and...”

The warmth and weight of his blood trickling thickly into her lap charged through her mind with all the horror of that memory. Standing across from him, seeing the old impassive mask set firmly over his expression, she knew he had the exact knowledge of the moment she was referring to and the concealment of his reaction was only confirming the worst of the suspicions that had gathered in her since she’d begun to remember.

She swallowed the rising pit of nausea back down, drawing a shaking breath before continuing, “I want to know why I forgot… and I think you know. Why did you do it? How much did you make me forget?”

Leif’s stillness was that of a predator waiting for the moment to pounce on his prey; all coiled muscles and cold observation. When he spoke, she could not tear her eyes away from the pointed sharpness of his eyeteeth.

“After six years of being routinely drugged, can you really place any confidence in your memories?”

The blithe rebuttal stung worse than any violence he could have responded with. Heat crept up the back of her neck and her throat closed around the outrage that wanted to leap out of her in a shout.

Instead of a shout, she could only whisper, “Gaslighting me is old hat, Papa. I know what’s real now.”

“It doesn’t matter. Even if you remember, even if you find out what happened, it doesn’t change anything,” he said, walking towards her, each deliberate step vibrating through the floorboards to rattle her bones despite their lightness. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, then slide up to gently hold the back of her neck. “Don’t let the past get in the way of our future, Simone. Everything that’s happened had to happen for us to be together. Let the ends justify the means this time, my love.”

“Are these our ends?” she muttered.

He pulled her toward him, his grip on her neck guiding her like a ring through a bull’s snout, and she crashed against the hard length of his torso.

“Are you not happy to be in love with me, darling?” he asked, his other hand threading through her hair to cradle her head against his chest. His heartbeat was a steady drum while hers thrashed in her rib cage. “Is this bond not what you have suffered for?”

“I need to know what happened!” she insisted, pushing down the instinct to flee in the presence of his temper.

His hand tightened in her hair, drawing a mewl from her that sounded pathetic even to her own ears as he tugged her backwards. He leaned down close enough for the heat of his breath to brush over her face as he spoke, “No, you don’t. If you can’t trust my intentions, then trust that there are reasons I have weighed and considered to have come to my decisions and have faith that they are correct according to my ability and judgment. Your lack of faith has caused much trouble; don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He released her with a shove, leaving her scalp tingling as she stumbled to regain her balance and put more distance between them. The heat in her blood made her shake and, not knowing how to contain the overwhelming clash of emotions she feared to encounter past her shock, she moved away from him until her back hit the mirrors that lined the far wall.

A mirthless grin tugged at her lips as she asked, “So, that’s it? Half my life gone behind a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ order?”

“Simone,” he warned, and the scrape of gravel in his tone sent a shiver through her gut.

“I’ve been hurt in a lot of ways,” she said, palms too slick with sweat to hold herself up against the mirror as she tried not to cower. “Bound, whipped, strangled… but I had faith that you would find me one way or another if I could just stay where I could be found. I endured. My faith in you endured, even when I begged for death… even when death answered. Whatever happened, whatever you did… You think the truth is going to break me now?” A dry, shallow laugh panted out of her before vanishing behind clenched teeth. “Don’t lecture me on faith when you’re the one who’s lacking.”

Her ears rang as though she’d screamed it all, but her father stood watching, waiting as though he hadn’t even heard her. Then, he threw the cane aside, the clatter echoing loudly in the unfurnished room and making her flinch.

“I can’t give you back what was lost,” he said, that false calm as cold as his stare, “but if it matters to you so much, I might explain why it was done. Go back to our suite and run a warm bath; I’ll be up shortly.”

And just like that, he turned and left. Simone was frozen, her back glued to the mirror as she tried to reconcile the anger and fear still warring within her, the storm of emotions lagging to catch up to what had just happened. For the first time, she had won against her father’s will.

The morning drill was the same as it had been every day since Vidar’s release from the infirmary; the same lining up in the courtyard to pledge their commitment to their shared path, the same sprint interval training course, the same calisthenics circuit, the same callused hands gripping his as he shared the same wishes for a productive day of service with his Ouroboros brothers and sisters, the same shuffling into the showers and then the mess hall for the same high-protein breakfast. The rhythm of the morning and the physicality of each task provided the distraction to keep him from acting on the urge to panic buzzing just under his skin, but each bite of the egg and mystery meat scramble ground between his teeth like ash after the clock ticked past the 10 AM mark. By the time he saw Maier wheel into the hall, he could no longer imagine that the tremor in his limbs was the effect of a strenuous workout.

“How did physical therapy go today, Dick?” Vidar asked before the ex-agent could speak.

“Well, as you can see, I am still reliant on this wheelchair,” Maier answered with as much terseness as the impassive man could achieve. “Yet even with my limited mobility, I still get through the morning faster than you. I am afraid you must abandon the remainder of your breakfast if you wish to avoid tardiness, Mr. Valstad.”

Vidar’s eye twitched to the gilded clock hanging above the long rows of tables, its sprawling hands only showing it to be just past 10:20, and said, “It’s not that long of a walk to the eastern wing.”

“Dr. Aguiyi requests you attend in your personal attire.”

“What’s wrong with the uniform? The khaki trousers are a little utilitarian, but the V-neckline on these shirts are ready to party. Why don’t you relax and have some eggs?”

“No, thank you. I need to minimize my protein intake. Now, then…” Maier pulled the tray away, the metal scraping along the laminate surface making a sound that expressed the frustration the stoic man never could as he said, “I will escort you to your quarters, Mr. Valstad.”

Leif waited for his daughter’s footsteps to recede down the hall before letting his shoulders sag with the sigh that left him. This was not anything he had been prepared to address since the incident had come to pass ten years ago and all that the decade had accomplished was only to further assure him that he would never have to. Four years of nervously waiting for her memories to resurface and then six years of mind altering drugs to ensure they never would had all begun to crumble in the five short months since her last dose.

Whoever that was in there that accused him of lacking faith was not his daughter. In that moment, the ghost he had once been searching for in her blood had come back alive, but the idea of succeeding did not bring the reward he had so often dreamt it would. That steel in her eyes belonged to an impossible dream he now saw as a nightmare.

Leif rubbed his face, trying to tame the ache that was building behind his skull and, failing, turned from the corner he’d hidden behind and began the trek back to his quarters. The members he passed gave him a wide berth, but their salutes and greetings smothered him with the thickness of their adoration. It seemed that nothing could disgrace him in their eyes, not his desertion, not his relationship with his daughter, not even his task of occasionally doling out murder among his worshippers. He supposed things could have ended up worse for him than being imprisoned to play the role of a god among war cultists, but this was not where his path would end.

When he stepped into his quarters and heard water rushing into the bathtub, he knew he had to be very mindful of where his path would turn from here. His daughter’s loyalty, while never blind, was becoming uprooted from the source he had planted in her long ago. He stood in the doorway to the bathroom and watched her bend over to test the temperature of the flow. His Simone was a dutiful daughter, an avid lover, and a devoted companion, but that streak of willfulness and rebellion in her could fracture all of that if he allowed it. Perhaps he deserved that, but fairness was not always right and what was deserved rarely served anyone in their line of living.

The squeal of the antique taps turning brought him out of his dread to find her waiting, her gaze still fixed to the water.

“How do you want me?” she asked, each word carefully and deliberately spoken to stave off the quaver of fear.

He swallowed the dryness in his throat and answered with a brief, “Disrobe. Get in.”

There was always the hesitance of shyness in this act, no matter how many times she had done this in front of him and at his command. It was usually endearing, but now as she cast her eyes to the floor and dragged her pants down her hips with a reluctant slowness, he hated it. He wanted her to look at him, to bare herself with eagerness and anticipation instead of humiliation, but he had not conditioned her to be proud of her sexuality. Shame was simply a more effective tool to manipulate.

As she gathered up her hair and stepped into the tub, he pulled up a short stool next to it and started, after a tentative moment, at the beginning, “When my uncle Bjørn was assassinated, there was a general interest among his followers to see that death was not his end but rather his obstacle. To overcome this obstacle, they sent Dr. Benjamin Wallace with a proposition to my door twelve years ago.”

“The same doctor who let us stay in his house?” Simone asked.

Leif nodded. “The very same, yes. He had some theories on genetically predetermined behavior and genetic memory that Bjørn’s followers became very interested in. They wanted him to revive Bjørn through the genetic memory of one of his descendants, and I…” He pressed the heel of his palm to his brow, willing the dull ache of regret to the back of his mind. “I wanted that too. As impossible as I knew it to be, I wanted at least some part of who my uncle was to live again and you… You’ve always been so similar to this man you’ve never met; it gave me hope that maybe, in some small and strange ways, he was in you somewhere and all we had to do was… dig those pieces of him up.”

The silence from his girl was a palpable presence that drew him to notice how still and pale she was, not even the rise and fall of breathing moved her until she asked in a whisper, “Did it work?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Even Ben didn’t think it had a chance; it was just a theory he was interested in testing in a human subject.”

“How are you so sure it didn’t work?”

His smile faded as a livid suspicion slunk through the mire of his guilt. “Did Frank tell you anything about this?”

She shook her head, but her glassy stare was miles away from him to be able to tell if she was lying or not.

He rolled up his sleeves as he continued, “The experiments were a failure, but they yielded some unexpected results. We were able to medically induce a controlled fugue state in you that caused you to be extremely receptive to suggestion without sacrificing your motor control or cognition – you would execute any task suggested to you without bias, regardless if that task endangered you.”

He lathered a sponge in a sweet-smelling soap before reaching out to his daughter and scrubbing slow, gentle circles on her skin. She didn’t react to the rough texture of the sponge, not even as he scrubbed it over the scars at the crux of her neck and shoulder where his bite mark had been carved away. He watched her blank expression curiously; she had always at least tensed whenever that area was touched, even after it had healed.

“We were successful in conditioning you to filter out orders that were given by persons other than myself while in that fugue state, effectively turning you into the perfect soldier. Well, almost perfect. You were unable to form long term memory while induced, and we didn’t realize until it was far too late that this side effect had begun affecting you outside of the fugue state. There was a remarkable consistency in the memories that were affected; only your memories pertaining to me were eroding. We shelved the experiment at once, but it took months before we saw any evidence that this side effect was going to recede. There were times where you didn’t seem to know who I was at all. In a way, this was fortunate and fortuitous. I’m convinced that, had you retained a consistent impression of me as your father throughout your life, you would not have developed a strong sexual attraction to me.”

“Well, thank god for that, then,” she said.

Leif paused in his work of soaping up her torso, surprised at the plainly-spoken but deeply sarcastic comment. That didn’t sound like something she would say, not to him. He resumed scrubbing; he could deal with her disrespect later.

“I did not erase your memories,” he said. “It was an unfortunate accident in our past that allowed for fortunate opportunities to occur in our future, not by my design but by the design of fate.”

Simone watched the suds swirling on the water as she asked, “Is Dr. Wallace still alive?”

“I believe he remains a prisoner of the estate. Why? I will not condone you speaking with him on the subject.”

“No, that’s not…” she trailed off, closing her eyes before huffing out a short sigh and starting over, “Thank you for telling me this, Papa. It answers a lot of questions I’ve had for longer than I’ve known.”

Leif sighed again, this time allowing his breath to carry out the tension that his dread had twisted in him. His daughter was taking this all so well, at least for now. There would inevitably be some emotional fallout once the shock passed, but he would be there to direct her grief to more useful channels.

“You don’t have to pose your questions yet, darling,” he said. He cupped a palmful of bathwater and poured it over her shoulders, rinsing the sweet-smelling suds from her skin to leave her brown and gleaming. “We can talk more about this later, but I want you to know that I’m glad those experiments failed. I simply didn’t know what I was risking back then. I’d never want to give you up for anything or anyone else in the world.”

Her downturned head shot up abruptly, distant eyes alert and pinched in worry as she asked, “What time is it? I forgot I had promised to make breakfast with Bisi!”

Leif smiled. It was classically Simone to bury and suppress what she could not handle. He could allow her this retreat today, he supposed.

“It’s just now 20 passed 4,” he answered, giving her a pat on her shoulder. “You’d better hurry.”

“Quit rushing me!” Vidar snarled, swiping at Maier’s hands as the man reached up to adjust his tie.

“Mr. Valstad, I would highly recommend you consult a mirror before leaving your quarters,” Maier’s bland monotone droned out with a patience that did not match his insistent grab as he yanked him down to his level. The ex-agent’s strength and skill had Vidar bending at the waist without much resistance. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Fuck off,” Vidar sneered, but did not move until Maier’s deft hands completely redid his necktie. Any delay towards knocking on the door to Aguiyi’s office was a welcomed one.

“Well… let’s see what the old man wants,” Vidar muttered, bracing himself as he lifted his hand, only to jerk away when the door opened.

The heavy oak creaked on the hinges, revealing the Doctor seated amidst his ubiquitous cloud of cigar smoke and gaggle of pretty young wives. Gaggle of pretty young assassins, he reminded himself as he stepped into the dimmed room.

“Vidar!” Aguiyi grinned, yellowed teeth gleaming in the light of the candles strewn around his desk. “So good to see you again! Come, sit down and tell me how you’ve been adapting to the lifestyle!”

“The food could be better,” Vidar said, “but there is a grueling sort of comfort in monotony.”

He smiled against the urge to look away from those terrible pale eyes as he approached, knowing how dangerous it was to let his gaze drift to the women. As he sat in the leather chair across from the desk, however, one of them caught his attention from the corner of his vision. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised in the cold shiver that coursed through his veins when he locked eyes with the silver stare of his once-slave.

“You…” he breathed, the word passing as quietly as a phantom over his lips.

“There exists a measure of safety in how structured each aspect of our daily lives are within the walls of the estate,” Aguiyi went on. Vidar could not will himself to look away from her, the old man’s words drifting into the background all but unheard as Simone’s hand clutched tight over her abdomen, drawing his shocked stare down to where he remembered she’d cut herself open. “Safety is a precious idea among the many reminders of mortality that inundate our purpose here. Inconvenient business, mortality is, but business is booming. Tell me, Vidar, what would you do to secure your survival?”

Vidar jerked out of his shock at the sound of his name on that deadly tongue, swallowing the thickness that clogged his throat before answering, “Anything… sir. I would do anything.”

Aguiyi’s grin settled into a smile that chilled him to the bone. “I know. You’ve suffered, you’ve served, you’ve even sacrificed your beloved. You have proven your commitment to your survival. I must ask you to prove it again.”

Fear numbed Vidar’s face as he forced himself to nod in response. Aguiyi beckoned to someone unseen in a darkened corner of the room and two men dragged a chained and naked older man toward the desk. The leather armrests of the chair squeaked from how hard Vidar gripped them as he took in the prisoner’s sorry condition.

“Vid, I’d like you to meet Dr. Benjamin Wallace,” Aguiyi beamed proudly. “He will be heading a medical research project that we would like you to participate in. Do you accept?”

Vidar could have laughed if he had the breath to. There had never really been a choice to begin with.

#Closing The Distance #update #fiction #horror #cults #possible workout motivation?#have a holly jolly crisis

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ethompson928 · 6 years

Text

We are Bulletproof (BTS GANG AU) Prologue

Hello everyone welcome to my story! I am also on WATTPAD with this story under the same user name! Just a quick disclaimer there in case anyone thinks that I am stealing my own story! It has gotten a pretty good reception so far over on Wattoad so I thought I would take my chances here on Tumblr and meet all you lovely people!

Prologue / CH.1 /

The music was blaring, the vibrations of the bass could be felt pulsing thorugh the floor as young people danced and crowded the already overflowing night club, it was almost claustrophobic. The lights were blinding and shining in almost every direction adding to the atmosphere. The bar was a busy, bustling commotion of drinks and crowds as the bar staff worked hard to provide drinks to the paying adults and not so legal teenagers using their fake ids. Various rooms were playing different styles of music, above the main floor was the V.I.P rooms which were private and had translucent sheets covering the windows, just enough to see silhouettes dancing and mingling almost as if it were a projection. Bouncers were stationed at the doors leading into the night club, tall, well built and very intimidating. Luxurious sofas and tables were placed around the walls providing a place for people to sit and enjoy the atmosphere as they partied with their friends or new found hook ups that would last one evening. The smell was almost intoxicating, the smell of alcohol, perfume and aftershave mingled into one, almost made you want to choke but it was bearable.

Ally looked around her as she and friend walked into the main room of the club. The idea of partying was foriegn to her and she was't one for drinking a lot of alcohol. It was her friends idea to come to this club and she wasn't going to let her friend go to a club without someone there to look after her and stop her from making bad decisions. Ally took a mental note of what she was wearing, a pair of jean shorts and a nice top and a pair of white converse, a lot more than what most of the girls in the club were wearing. She stood out like a sore thumb.

"Lighten up, Ally...it's my birthday remember, you promised you would come!" Her best friend, Ayami all but shouted over the music as she grabbed her friends hand and pulled her further into the club. "Besides, you never know...we could get lucky!"

Ayami was definitely the more adventurous of the two girls, she came from a family of two older sisters who got her a fake id and introduced her into the world of partying, boys and alcohol a couple of years ago. Ally was different, she moved to America with her American born mother when she was 5 and then returned when she was on the verge of becoming an adult herself to finish her education and to reconnect with her fathers roots and discover her Korean heritage, even though her parents split years ago. She met Ayami in school and the two became inseperable ever since, while they were total opposites, the two completed each other.

The girls went to the dance floor and decided to dance to some of the music before they did anything else. Ally found herself laughing and having a good time as the two best friends jumped around to some instrumental dubstep track. While she would never admit it, she was having fun. After dancing for a while, Ally shouted into her friends ear over the music that she was going to look for a toilet and would be right back as quick as she could.

Ally walked on into the club away from the main dance floor and into a corridor hoping she might come across the toilet. The crowds began to thin out the further into the club she went, maybe she had went the wrong way. She was about to head back to the main room of the club when she heard a strangled scream. Curiousity overtook her and she began to investigae the noise. A loud thud was head as well as she poked her head around the corner of the wall and nearly gasped out loud at the scene she saw. One man was being held up by another boy, obviously younger than him by his throat as he gasped for air.

"You here to spy on us?!" The boy growled at the man as he pushed his windpipe harder, making the man cry out in pain. Another boy who also stood in the hallway laughed sarcastically and landed a punch to the mans stomach making him wheeze. At this moment Ally let out a huge gasp, revealing that she was there, all three of the boys turned their heads and looked at her. Frozen like a deer in head lights Ally didn't know what to do.

"We'll continue this somewhere more privately" one of the boys said, "She's seen too much, go get her" As the other boy advanced, Ally panicked and ran out of the hallway and back into the crowded club, hoping she would lose the man in the crowd. After keeping low for a few minutes, Ally thought she lost him, so she went in search to find her best friend and enjoyvthe rest of the night, as well as try to forgrt what she just saw. Ayami was still partying away when Ally returned.

"Back so soon??" Ayami asked.

"Couldn't find the toilets, this place is so packed. But I'm okay, I'll just go when we get home!"

"Okay, let's go have some shots!" Ayami shouted excitedly as she pulled her best friend away from the dance floor.

Next thing Ally knew was they were at the bar ordering a round of shots to celebrate a toast to the birthday girl. Ally promised herself she would not get drunk, one shot wouldn't hurt and she would have soft drinks for the rest of the night.

"HERE'S TO BEING BEST FRIENDS FOREVER AND HERE'S TO AN AWESOME BIRTHDAY!" Ayami shouted as the girls clinked shot glasses filled with soju and downed them in one. The bitter drink ran down Ally's throat and she resisted the urge to gag the acidic drink back up, but she smiled and hugged her best friend as tight as she could.

"Hey, did I just hear you say it was your birthday?" A stranger asked from behind Ally at the other side of the bar.

Both girls turned to look at him, Ally almost did a double take, he was quite handsome. His black shirt wasn't buttoned all the way up, leaving his neck and the top of his chest exposed ever so slightly. His hair was a beautiful orange colour, not all boys could pull something vibrant off but in Ally's opinion, he could. He was leaning against the bar as he examined the two girls.

"Yeah, it's mine!" Ayami claimed as she gave him her full attention.

"Well, Happy Birthday. Not everyday that someone as pretty as you walks in here, especially someone who looks like an angel. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" He smiled.

Ayami was completely smitten and just laughed it off, flicking some of her hair over her shoulder.

"You're not too bad yourself." Ayami smiled sweetly, her cheeks glowing the brightest red in the dark.

"Sweetheart, I'm the best thing you'll find in here. How about a drink and a dance for the birthday girl?" He asked as he moved closer to the girls, both of them seeming to forget that Ally was even there as Ayami melted like putty in the strangers hand.

Ally raised an eyebrow as the two continued flirting. They completely ignored her, and it was almost pissing her off to the point where she wanted to go home. But she wasn't going to leave her friend alone as God knows what would happen her if this boy turned out of be some sort of sex offender or something picking up young unsuspecting girls at bars.

"I'm gonna go for a walk if you need me, I'll be over there." Ally said but her words fell on deaf ears as the handsome stranger pulled Ayami towards the dance floor. Sighing she walked in the opposite direction and Ally decided to take a seat on one of the sofas by herself as she watched the couples all dancing and milling around. This had to happen eventually, Ally thought as she watched her friend dancing with the boy that managed to sweet talk his way into her heart, trying to forget about the incident she just witnessed. However Ally was rapidly pulled out of her thoughts when another boy sat down beside her with two drinks in his hands.

"So what is a young girl like you, doing all by yourself over here?" He asked sincerly.

"My friend ditched me" Ally replied, a bit happier not having to scream over the music anymore.

"Now that's just sad" He replied. "Here, have a drink. Free on me, I'm good friends with the bartender and he hooked me up" He slid the glass over the small table that was in front of them. Ally picked it up and smiled.

"Thank you" Ally smiled as she took a drink of the beverage in her hand, it was very friuty with a bit of an afterbite from the vodka that laced the sweet substance. After Ally took a drink, the boy looked at a silver watch on his wrist and then turned his attention back back to her.

"I was here for my friends birthday. But she got a better offer." Ally sighed watching her friend dance. The boy followed her line of vision.

"Don't worry, it happens all the time...this your first time here? I have never seen you around?" The boy asked trying to start some conversation.

"Yeah, I'm not all big into clubs or partying...you a regular?" She asked taking another sip of the drink.

"Yeah, you could say that, so what do you do for a living?"

Ally smiled and thought about it. "I just finished school, so I was thinking on taking a year out with my best friend and maybe travel or just find jobs....I don't know yet...what about you?"

"If I told you that, I might have to kill you" he said with a straight face, Ally frowned, she couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

He finally cracked a smile and laughed it off, glancing at his watch once again. Ally rubbed her head furiously as she began to feel a bit dizzy, she hadn't drunk that much, had she?

"Are you okay, you look like you're about to pass out..." the boy asked concerned leaning closer to her.

Ally nodded, standing up. "I just need some fresh air and I'll be fine."

The boy offered to walk with her and Ally said yes as he insisted he made sure she was okay. He guided her through the club and she felt the dizziness in her head get worse. Ally noticed he was leading her towards the back section of the club she saw the fight between the three guys happen in earlier.

"Wait, this isn't the way out..." Ally said in a weak voice as she felt herself drain of all energy, nearly falling but the boy held her up.

"Just s you know, it was nothing personal when I spiked your drink" the boy smirked at her.

Ally looked up at him with wide eyes, before she collapsed and all she could see was darkness. Then nothing.

#bts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #mafia au #gang au #fanfic #original character

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