#I just should have stood my boundaries and preferences stronger | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

b0ther · 4 years ago

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tags : drabble/one-shot idk. feminine pronouns, afab reader / royalty or kingdom au, inspired by kill the villainess, eating out, semi-public and clothed though they don’t have sex yet lol we’re gonna have to wait for part two, this was supposed to be short but i got carried away bye.

i’ve been reading a lot of reincarnation manhwas, and i can’t stop thinking about knight yuuta.

knight yuuta with tough, veiny, calloused hands, his fingers are long and pretty and knuckles are chipped with dried blood; a boy that spends his days practicing his swordsmanship against a dull dummy until the sun sets. knight yuuta who is then knighted by a duke’s daughter, whose lips are zipped with obvious intention to display her disinclination to be in the ceremony. knight yuuta who follows the lady home that night, three steps behind her at all times, and recognizes that the vicinity around her isn’t the one that he is welcomed in; knight yuuta who doesn’t speak of it or point it out either way.

“i don’t need a knight,” the lady then says one afternoon, eyes closed as she sips on her most favored flavor of tea under the bright sunlight. knight yuuta is sitting across her, eyes vigilantly watching her every move and ears perked up as if someone is going to ambush her in her own garden — he insisted that the lady enjoy her afternoon tea alone, you see, that he isn’t fit to be sitting on the same table as a lady. but she looked up at him with disinterest that struck his chest, questioning his loyalty to her. he immediately took the only empty seat on the round table.

the duke’s daughter, knight yuuta quickly learns, has a cute side to herself. she keeps him close to her, in the mansion and in the castle, even when she told him that she has no need of him to be around. she takes him to the market, and inside extravagant boutiques that he had never thought that he could enter. and though she has her own lady-in-waiting, she prefers discerning his opinion over hers. knight yuuta does not think of dresses often, and so he carelessly picks ones that he thinks would look best on his lady, and waits just outside the changing room.

but she drags him in, her touch delicate and unforgettable, it’s the first time he’s been touched by those soft hands — she smells of lemon cakes and roses; his lady closes the door and tells him to sit on a chair on the very back of the room. one servant argues — it would be improper for him to see you change, my lady — and she indifferently waves their reasoning away, “he is the only person in this room who has sworn his life to me, wouldn’t it be audacious of me to place my faith on all of you but not him?” as more complaints flows out of the servant’s mouth, his lady raises one hand to silence them and commands another to undo the laces of her dress. that day, knight yuuta learns of the boundaries the lady placed between them — he also learns that the lady has smooth, silky skin, and though his expression is unmoving as he watches her undress to her corset, both hands on his knees forms a fist.

neither knight yuuta nor his lady likes the crown prince very much. he came to learn that the person he is serving is second only to the crown prince, his lady’s inimical fiancé, and that she holds power and influent that most people would not be able to even imagine. knight yuuta knows his lady as one who is loved by all in the duke’s household — and how can one not? his lady, despite her frigid appearance, has the heart of gold that many claims to have, and he is convinced that no one in the kingdom is able to rival neither her elegance nor beauty. and so he wonders, day and night, how is her fate so ill that she is set to marry the wretched prince.

knight yuuta has not ever comment on the countless times his lady hides behind the palace pavilions, shielding herself from leering eyes as she continues to sob and wail quietly into her fragile palms. he has never seen her cry, at all times, he is on the lookout for people that are walking towards them — his gaze is enough to send them away — so that his lady’s dignity would not be tarnished any more than what that bastard prince has commit. he’d kill him, knight yuuta swears, if he isn’t the goddamned crown prince, he’d slit his throat wide open for making his lady cry.

why would anyone choose another woman than his lady? why would anyone openly flaunt their choice in picking arrogant and crude ladies to be their partner? doing so is one thing, but letting his lady catch them in the middle of coition is another. she is trying her best to fit in the mold of the perfect king’s wife, and the crown prince insists lazing around with no inch of grace in his body, even knight yuuta, who comes from a lowly origin, knows better than to exhibit infidelity even in a political driven engagement.

his lady asks him to accompany her to a nighttime tea one evening, and who is knight yuuta to refuse? the underlying sparks in her eyes isn’t present, her voice is low under flickering candlelight as she brings her cup to her lips. “you’re the only one i can trust, sir yuuta,” she says without precipitating movements, “you are my only friend.” that night, yuuta stabs his blade through the chest of a man who tried to bring a knife up to his lady’s face in her own garden. though his lady is unmoving, she lifts her gaze to the sky as the assassin breathes his last breath, “the crown prince has trivialized my knight.” as yuuta peers up at his lady, his eyes widen in overwhelming exalt — she looks magnificent.

trips to town has become a weekly occurrences for yuuta and his lady; her favorite hobby is to dress in regular clothings and prance down the marketplace, making him carry all her luggages. the downtown theater is her best loved place — a new short play every week is to be presented, with new songs and new tricks. his lady loves stories, and yuuta loves watching her eyes light up at every twist the play would offer. though that evening, his lady’s melancholic frown seeps pass her defenses, and he immediately recognizes the presence of the crown prince three rows under where they are sitting — in his arm is another lover yuuta does not recognize.

as his hand creeps to the hilt of his sword, his lady stood up. she is silent, as always, trying her best to not be the center of attention, as she makes her way out the exit. all thoughts of harming the crown prince escapes his mind — his lady is all that matters, after all. he follows her to the empty night streets, hand flying out to catch her wrist; yuuta disobeys his lady for the first time and did not let go even when she tries to pry him off. she refuses to look at him, and he understands, so he tugs her frail body towards his larger one, hand pressing her forehead against his chest.

“i don’t even love him,” as soon as he feels his lady’s sobbings, yuuta pulls them into an alleyway — he will not see her crying face, so no one else can do so. her fingers grip his tunic, tears sopping the material and yuuta can only rock them back and forth as a vain attempt in calming her down. “yuuta, i’m a-always doing my best, i-is that not enough?”

yuuta grits his teeth at the question — he’d kill the crown prince, he swears it. he pulls her from his chest, for the first time, he takes in the sight of her piteous face — her tear-stained cheeks are flushed, eyes swollen, and chest heaving. his heart clenches at the sight, and so, he closes his eyes and brings his large hand to cup her jaws, leaning down to catch her quivering lips with his.

at first, yuuta expects a harsh shove. he expects a slap on his face, or perhaps even a punch. he does not expect for his lady to be melting into the contact; all the tension on his shoulders fades away as he falls in deeper to the kiss, one hand wrapping around her small waist to hold her body closer to his. he can feel her hiccups as she raises her arms to snake around his neck, pulling him down towards her. yuuta knows that he should be careful when it comes to his delicate lady, that he should hold himself back as he is much stronger than she is; and he might have committed a sin when he thrusts her onto the wall.

he silently reprimands his excitement, and while he keeps each hand on her jaw and waist, his dark eyes peered down to his lady, waiting for her to rebuke his actions. but she does not comment on the cold wall or his daring decision — instead, she looks down to her feet, still trying to manage her hiccups, and quietly asks, “are you not going to kiss me again?”

splutters of apologies fly out his lips — he has kissed the crown prince’s fiancé, and while the fear of his own life is not present, yuuta fears for his lady’s. she turns away for a moment, her then erratic breath is now calm and slow, muttering something yuuta does not quite catch. she unhooks her arms from his neck, her soft touch traveling from his neck to the curves of his hard jaws. turning to look at him, shy and timid, his lady grips the base of the hand on her jaw with her smaller ones, tugging it off his face and placing it very carefully on the mound of her breast.

yuuta holds his breath.

the resilient lady keeps her eye contact — he doesn’t know how she does it — and presses her fingers on top of his, making him dig into the fabric and feel his digits drowning in the soft flesh underneath. yuuta does not say a word, he merely does what his lady tells him to do. “you can move,” her pliable voice whispers, and so he does. he takes the initiative to fondle her chest, stepping in closer as he admires how she fits perfectly in his wide palm. the fingers on his hand loosens; his lady takes one thumb to nibble between her teeth as yuuta continues to knead her mound, his breath hot against her face. he was so engrossed in her breast, that when his lady lets out a low sigh, he immediately pulls away.

at an instant, his eyes goes to her face — has he hurt her? he is greeted, however, by his lady’s flushed face (now for an entirely different reason) and her drool pooling on her thumb and on the corner of her pretty lips, threatening to spill out. has her lips always been this plump? yuuta feels his cock hardening against the restraining fabric of his pants as he thinks about how his kiss may be the one making her look so. . . amorous.

“sir yuuta,” his lady whimpers, and he almost flinched at how sultry the complaint sounds. she is so different from the lady he usually serves — so different from the usual bold and prideful woman that she is. yuuta raises his hand back to her chest and she lets out a sigh of relief; his lady looks so small as he towers her, so supple and pliant. is he allowed to do this? is he allowed to see her in such state?

she must have noticed his hesitation. her teeth let go of the thumb in her mouth and she slowly tugs the material of her long skirt to her chest. yuuta let go of her body completely and allows her to exhibit her smooth skin, the fat of her thighs making his head go dizzy even when he’s seen her change so many times. the reveal of her undergarments is slow, but yuuta doesn’t mind, not when his lady is revealing so much of herself to him — her laced underwear cups the shape of her pussy so well, that he almost convinces himself that it’s a sin to be staring for so long.

yuuta swallows the lump in his throat and squats before his lady, the case of his blade clashing against the ground. his face is just inches from her core, breath blowing against her warmth when his lady breaks his trance, “y-you can touch it. if you want.”

he may as well faints. yuuta looks up at his lady who’s intently staring back at him, tense from all that is happening. something tells him that she wants him to touch her, and so he raises one finger — just one, he tries not to be greedy — and presses that finger flat against the length of her slit.

“ngh—“

the responses are all so new for him. he keeps his eyes on his lady as her face rumples into an expression he has never seen her worn — it stirs something inside of him. he wants nothing more but to take his cock out and beat it to the expression she is showing him, but he doesn’t do it. instead, he waits for her cues while occasionally pressing harder on her mound.

“you—“ his lady takes his hand and directs him to a specific spot of her groin; yuuta can feel a bud nestling right there under her underwear, “—you can touch me there.”

yuuta follows her command, and he finds his heart drumming against his chest when his lady’s fingers immediately grips his hair. he places his free hand on her thigh — one he has been longing to hold — and continues pressing her down on the spot she had shown him while occasionally running his finger up and down her slit.

his eyes never leaves his beautiful lady’s face, only glancing to what is in front of him for a moment to see her undergarments getting darker in color when he feels his finger getting wet. yuuta swallows the lump of his throat again — she looks so ravishing, he must say, so inviting. it takes every fiber of his being to not do anything too rash, he wouldn’t want his lady to be uncomfortable around him, but he is only getting more and more close to her pulsating core. her little pants are music to his ears, her little moans of his name — and just his name. they both don’t know what to say in times like this, and yuuta feels content with his lady calling out to him with her velvety voice.

until, of course, something inside of him decides that it’s a good idea to press his lips against the fabric separating his finger and her folds. “yuuta—!” his lady squeals, fingers digging in his scalp as he continues to place flutters of little kisses on her drenched underwear, tasting the sweet slick of his beloved lady. she’s addicting.

yuuta shifts on his feet, angling his face so that he can kiss her better. he uses one finger to pull the fabric aside and let the cool night air breeze against her wet slit. his lady shivers, and he is sure that she is about to say something but his tongue races her, and takes one long lick in between her folds to let her juice run down his tongue. his lips settle on the bud he had felt earlier and slowly sucks on her glistening clit.

noises that his lady makes after he does that is different. though she was panting before, she didn’t do so in a way that is so. . . exhilarating. he is rock hard now, sucking on her throbbing clit, squelching sounds that fill him with delight entering his ears easily. she is so so wet, sopped in her own slick for him.

“y-yuuta—“

he loves her. he really do. yuuta does not lower the intensity of his sucking, and instead, only grips her hips to support her body against the wall once he feels her knees trembling from either side of his body. she’s muttering all sorts of things now, telling him how he feels so good, how his tongue is making her feel so hot.

“yuuta— i’m gonna, i—“

his sweet lady cannot finish her sentence — she is cut off by her own gushing, juice flowing to make a mess on his chin as he continues eating her out, tongue poking at the sensitive button between her folds. she’s trying so hard to keep her voice down, yuuta can tell, biting the back of her hand as she throws her head on the wall. her hips convulses so hard against his face, grinding down on him.

yuuta does not stop. he keeps on lapping up her cum, obsessed with the taste of her honeyed slick as he tugs on her clit softly with his lips, silently begging her to give him more.

“s’enough—“ his lady’s words fall on deaf ears, yuuta keeps slurping up her juice until she finally pushes his head away. “e-enough, sir yuuta!”

yuuta blinks up at her — drowning in the sight of her post orgasm: sweat drenching down her face and neck, chest heaving with massive draws of breath, her hair disheveled and messy (quite unfitting for a lady), and her face somewhat debauched. he made her look like that, a sense of burning pride flares up in his chest, he’s the only one to see his lady like that.

remnants of her juice dribbles down his chin on his throat, and yuuta unconsciously scoops it up with a finger to put in his mouth, indulging himself in another taste of her sweet slick. his lady sees this and looks away, muttering about how indecent he is being. he cannot help the small smirk slipping on his lips as he wipes his face free of her wetness. he stands up, not making a move though his eyes lingers on her chest — he stares longer, more than he usually would and wonders what would his lady’s tits look like under all these article of clothings, and would she ever let him suck on them.

she drops the skirt from her hand, crossing her arms under her chest — perhaps to tease him, or to coax him even further — as her cool expression returns to her face. she still looks embarrassed, face still flushed with her hair sticking firmly on her forehead with sweat, but yuuta does not point it out.

instead, he simply offers her his hand when she says, “take me back to the mansion.” he does not mention too, of course, the way she stumbles in her steps, slightly limping, as they walk back home.

#jjk #one-shot #yuuta #knight yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

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Wei Wuxian never had the patience for embroidery, and Jiang Yanli was passable, but preferred cooking. Jiang Cheng found it comforting, stabbing something over and over again, with a better result than breaking training dummies.

It started with Jiang Cheng being a sticky child, refusing to leave his jie’s side even when she sat for her embroidery lessons; with him being noisy and troublesome and the teacher just shoving the needle and thread into his hands with a muttered comment about it being good for men to know how to repair their own clothing – as if a future sect leader would ever need to know something like that.

Jiang Cheng quieted down and focused, all hard work and determination to please the way he went about all aspects of his life – he wasn’t a natural talent, in cultivation or swordmanship or even this, but he always tried his best.

His mother covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter when he presented her with the results of several weeks’ worth: it was just barely recognizable as the world’s ugliest duck.

“A symbol of loving devotion,” one of her maids said.

“There’s only one, though,” the other maid said. “They’re supposed to be a pair.”

“He’s still young,” Madame Yu said, and then held up a fabric with a vaguely incoherent green-white-pink blob. “And anyway, it’s still better than this – what is this supposed to be again, A-Li?”

“A lotus flower,” Jiang Yanli replied, utterly untroubled by her mother’s criticism.

Madame Yu and her maids studied the fabric for a little while longer, trying to identify a flower inside the knot of threads, helpless expressions on their face.

“A-Cheng is a duck without a partner and A-Li is unrestrained by commonly understood boundaries,” Madame Yu finally said, pinching her nose. “With signs as inauspicious as this…well, at least you still have your father to hold up the world for you.”

“Men care more about cooking skills anyway,” one of her maids said. “And A-Cheng is an heir to a sect: he’ll find himself a lady duck one day. Maybe even a whole set of them.”

“He’d better not find a whole set of them!”

There was a small needle on the floor of the hut where the Wen sect had stuffed him away – too small and thin to attack anyone, even if a useless waste with no golden core could muster an attack at all, and so it had been overlooked.

Jiang Cheng held it over the flame of the lamp to sterilize it, and then, with shaking hands, turned it on his own flesh.

He didn’t have a choice – it was that or die bleeding out onto the floor of some closet in the Lotus Pier he’d never even known existed, some of the cuts left by the Wens too deep to be left alone even for a little while, and he didn’t have spiritual energy to encourage the healing process.

Maybe he should just die. What was the point of living? He was a waste, now. Maybe the deep cuts were even meant to be a kindness – a way out of the misery that awaited him, a life of being Wen Chao’s slave, an object of pity and mockery.

Jiang Cheng’s hands might be shaking, but his embroidery was good: he’d kept it up, citing it as good training for precision, a way to improve his dexterity, but in fact it was the only thing that could make his mother smile at him anymore. Sure, she yelled about him wasting time with feminine pursuits when he ought to be cultivating, training, getting stronger, surpassing Wei Wuxian, but when she looked at the little things he made for her, she still smiled, almost as if she couldn’t help herself.

She wouldn’t smile for him any longer. Neither smile nor scolding.

Jiang Cheng would live to see Wei Wuxian take the revenge their parents deserved. He could wait until that was done to die.

A regular needle could prick the finger of a cultivator a thousand times before drawing a single drop of blood.

Jiang Cheng’s fingers were covered in bandages, but the new disciples of his Jiang sect had robes embroidered with lotuses, the way they should have, and they need not be ashamed to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other sects in battle.

It wasn’t a job a sect leader should ever do, but there was no one else to do it; any money had to be spent on supplies, none left over for paying seamstresses to do something impractical, and the few women who joined up expected to be used for their skill at the sword, not the needle.

It was just another thing he had to do with no time to do it – he had to train himself in preparation for battle, teach the new disciples the Jiang sect techniques, make sure they had enough to eat and drink, keep one step ahead of the Wen sect’s forces that sought to destroy them, recruit new sects to join their cause and all of it while searching desperately for Wei Wuxian, who had gone missing.

(Sometimes, in his nightmares, Jiang Cheng wondered if Baoshan Sanren had seen through their mischief, recognized him as someone other than her disciple’s son, and demanded a price be paid for the gift she had given him.)

At least embroidery was something he could do at night when he couldn’t sleep, something productive that wouldn’t disturb the sentries or make anyone worry about him.

Sometimes, Lan Wangji – who had joined him in searching for Wei Wuxian – would come and sit next to him at the early hours of the night, undoubtedly fleeing nightmares of his own. His meditation didn’t bother Jiang Cheng, and as much as he hated to admit it, the company was welcome.

That didn’t stop him from embroidering a small awkward stork on the inside of Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon the one time the other man had asked him for help fixing it after it’d been cut in battle.

“I know Madame Jin probably already got you something better,” Jiang Cheng said, his fingers twisting together – in fact, he hadn’t thought of it at all, not until he reached Lanling and heard the women on the street speculating as to which skilled seamstress had been retained to embroider all the auspicious signs onto the wedding clothing of the Jin sect’s new daughter-in-law.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that they would just buy a set pre-made – wedding clothing was traditionally embroidered by the bride herself, preparations made over the years, and of course the set Jiang Yanli had (with no real motivation or ambition) been working on had gone up in flames along with the Lotus Pier. When she’d come to let him know about Jin Zixuan’s impending proposal, and that she intended to accept, Jiang Cheng had panicked and ordered the silks and thread himself; his sister was passable at embroidery at the best of times, much worse when under pressure or a deadline, and he didn’t want the Jin sect to laugh at her.

He should have realized. What didn’t the Jin sect solve with money?

“As if I would wear anything other than what A-Cheng made for me,” Jiang Yanli said, voice warm as she ran her hands over the red silk he’d brought with him, the golden threads glinting. “It’s beautiful. Your ducks have gotten much better since your first attempt, all those years ago.”

Jiang Cheng covered his face with embarrassment. His mother had kept that stupid hideous duck for years, often just sitting in her pocket alongside regular necessities so that she could pull it out to embarrass him whenever she pleased; it had probably only died when she had.

“I left some undone for you to finish,” he said through his fingers. “I brought the thread…if you want?”

“Of course. A-Cheng will sit by me and make sure I don’t make any mistakes.”

The last pair of ducks ended up crooked, their heads too close together, their beaks at such an odd angle that it almost looked like a smile; they were Jiang Cheng’s favorite ones of all.

“For you,” Jiang Cheng said, shoving the box into Wei Wuxian’s arms and ignoring the look of confusion. “For when Hanguang-jun finally decides to live up to his responsibilities.”

“What are you talking about?” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “Why are you even at the Cloud Recesses?”

Jiang Cheng sneered because it was easier than doing anything else. It was the first time he’d seen Wei Wuxian since the events at the Guanyin temple: Wei Wuxian hadn’t come back to the Lotus Pier, not once, even though Jin Ling had tried several times to invite him.

“Am I not allowed, now?” he demanded irritably. “I’m a sect leader; I have a visitor’s token, same as anyone else. Anyway, I have other business to attend to – just take it and be done with it. Don’t make a fuss.”

It was a mistake to say that – as soon as Wei Wuxian realized there was the possibility of a fuss, he couldn’t wait to confront it at once, and disregarded all rules of etiquette to pull open the box right there as they stood, before even Jiang Cheng left.

“Red…?” Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide. “Jiang Cheng, you got me wedding clothing.”

“Reused ones,” Jiang Cheng said before Wei Wuxian could get too emotional or anything. “The only adjustments were to the size and shape – don’t think too highly of yourself!”

“Sect Leader Jiang is too humble,” Lan Wangji said from the door. “It must have been a great effort to make clothing for a man from the ones your sister wore.”

“Sister…? You – this is what shijie married in?”

Jiang Cheng glared at the immovable Lan Wangji rather than look at Wei Wuxian. “Her marriage was happy,” he said stiffly. “Yes, it was cut short –”

Best not to say by whom.

“– but it was still happy. It’s not meant to be a bad omen or a curse…I thought you’d like it. Not that I expected you’d remember what it looked like, with your memory.”

“Of course I like it!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, hugging the red fabric to his chest. “You made it for shijie, and she finished it, right?”

“I had to add some more fabric to make up for the size difference,” Jiang Cheng said, still refusing to look at him directly. At least Lan Wangji had the good grace to be easy to glare at, that pig who dug up his family’s (lost, dead, resurrected) cabbage. “There are a few more that still need finishing. That way, it’ll have something from all of us – don’t you dare cry at me!”

“I’m not crying! My eyes are watering from laughter at how sentimental you are, that’s all!”

“It is good that we will both have signs of Sect Leader Jiang’s approval with us,” Lan Wangji said mildly.

Wei Wuxian turned to him at once. “Both? What do you have?”

Jiang Cheng was equally confused, and only when Lan Wangji reached up to his forehead ribbon did he remember his fit of pettiness in horror. “Wait, no, don’t – it can’t still be there –”

It was.

Wei Wuxian’s cackles followed him as he fled.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yu ziyuan #jiang yanli #lan wangji #wangxian #my fic #my fics #I really like how this one came out actually #Anonymous

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nicostolemybones · 5 years ago

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Bodyswap, Godswap

@solangeloweek a little late but! A twist on Godswap because I was planning an Ares/Hecate Godswap but couldn't decide who I preferred to be in the Hecate cabin

Tw: heavy swearing

Nico was not happy to be woken up. He was even less happy to be woken up by the mythical entity known as 'sunlight'. He tried to bury himself back in his blankets in confusion, but then. Then. Music. Not even good music. Some song from Shrek everybody loved. And then. Then. Some fucker in his room started playing some kind of annoying ass squeaky clarinet solo. Sure, Nico could play the clarinet, but it was clear that this motherfucker was purposely making it squeak.

Nico practically ripped the blankets off- and promptly hissed and winced at the sunlight. He tried to close his curtains but somehow the damn sunlight still got through. How? He had blackout curtains, there was no godsdamned way. So, he realised, he must have shadow travelled in his sleep. He groaned loudly, turning to look around-

Well fuck.

There was Will's siblings. The annoying Clarinet player stepped forwards, pointed the damned thing right next to his ear, and squeaked it loudly. The sound hurt, splitting through Nico's skull. He tried to swat the clarinet down, but he severely miscalculated and accidentally rammed the clarinet further in the person's mouth, and now they were crying and their teeth were bleeding and wow Nico was such a jerk.

Everybody was staring at him in shock, so Nico ran into the bathroom to breathe and stop panicking before he'd apologise, but as soon as he looked in the mirror-

He screamed.

Because that was very much Will in the mirror. Nico was about to assume that Will had Iris messaged him- until he noticed Will's face mirroring his expressions. And that is when Nico truly panicked. Because he was in Will's body. He was not in his own body, he was in Will's body, and Will was wearing pyjamas like a heathen and there was no way Nico was going to undress him to dress him again because this was not his body and he had no idea what Will would be comfortable with. Also Nico was fourteen okay, and whilst he was curious, he was far more awkward and uncomfortable.

He didn't want to leave Will's body all sweaty and gross, though, so he filled the sink with water and decided to wash over his face, neck, hands, and arms.

Will definitely felt weird. He hadn't seen any sunlight, it was pitch black aside from… was that… Greek fire torches? He didn't remember going to sleep in Nico's cabin… maybe he was just groggy because there was no natural light in here. He opened the curtains, wincing as his spine protested. He must have threw his back out carrying all the boxes into the infirmary yesterday, but he didn't remember them being that heavy… he stretched, but the pain in his back got worse, so he headed to the bathroom. He decided to go straight for a shower, but as he went to take his clothes off, he realised… this was not his body.

They were Nico's jeans and Nico's shirt, the same ones he'd worn yesterday. And they were a little loose, and Will was definitely not that thin when he went to sleep. He backtracked to Nico's mirror and his suspicions were confirmed when Nico's sleep deprived face stared back at him. So a shower was very much out of the question. And sure, Will had seen many campers in states of undress in the infirmary, but it was very different when this was his boyfriend, whose body he was in, where it wasn't a matter of life or death. Will sniffed his pits- and decided against doing that again. It didn't seem like Nico had showered in a while, so he must have hit a rough patch.

Nico's hair was matted, so Will decided to take the time to care for it, brushing it through then bending over the sink to carefully wash it- they both had a similar hair type, so Will wasn't too worried about ruining it- although, Nico didn't have shampoo, so Will had to improvise and hope for best. Will went over Nico's face and arms and cleaned behind his nails, and quickly wiped his armpits under his shirt so Nico's body didn't smell of sweat for Nico's comfort when he was back in it- and also so he'd have less to worry about when he was back in his body.

Nico's skin was definitely more sensitive than Will's- not necessarily painful, but the fabric of his shirt was irritating and overwhelming, and Will finally understood why Nico didn't like touch too much, because yikes… that wasn't very fun. And Will was also screwed because he didn't know what foods would make Nico nauseous, or what time he preferred to take his pain meds.

Nico was not having a good time when he marched over to his own cabin. Will was stupidly tall, and Nico was not used to the extra height. When he'd sat down, he'd almost fallen backwards, because he hadn't calculated how much taller than the chair Will was in comparison to Nico. He knocked on his own cabin door, and was not prepared to see himself stood there.

"I'm- short," Nico noted, and Will nodded.

"So small. Also wow I'm… taller than I thought."

"I don't feel like I'm about to pass out," Nico noted, "is this what healthy feels like?"

"No," Will laughed, "gods no, I'm far from healthy, give it, like, an hour, you'll still feel tired and dizzy."

"I don't feel tired though," Nico shrugged, "this is the least tired I've felt."

"I feel like I've been awake for four days," Will replied, "I have no energy…"

"Yeah, welcome to chronic fatigue, try not to fall asleep in your breakfast and if you do fall asleep, try not to murder the at least five people who chew you out for being lazy during training. Just… good luck, you poor bastard. I've had time to get used to this, you…" Nico gestured to Will "are an insufferably healthy morning person, good luck."

"Well thanks(!) Also I feel we should set boundaries here. Just, no touching the, yeah, that's a good boundary. No looking either."

"Obviously," Nico replied hastily, "now let's never bring that up again before I die of embarrassment!"

"Agreed," Will snorted. "Hey, do you think we can use each other's powers?"

"...I wonder if we can use our own powers but… with each others. Like… light travel or shadow healing. And then, when we're back in our own bodies, we can… we can just teach each other how we did that…"

"Oh my god we can become ten times more awesome-"

"I'll race you!" Nico bolted off towards the training arena before Will could protest. Will was always declaring a race, and Nico could never catch up, way too short and way too sick to actually manage to catch up. But now? In Will's body? With long legs and daily running? When Will would never miss a leg day? Nico had never run quite so fast and it was awesome, although he figured he maybe should have dressed Will in something else, because the fabric of his pyjamas was seriously chafing where his thighs met. But then. Then Nico discovered that flip flops were not easy to run in. He lost one, and tripped over the other, and faceplanted the floor. Seriously, how in the hell did Will manage to outrun six heavily armed Romans in these?

Will caught up to him, wheezing, and immediately sat on the floor. "Christ Neeks," he gasped, "your fucking lungs are shit!"

"Flip flops? Seriously? Will these are a death trap!"

"What the fuck is your spine playing at, why is it trying to murder me right now?!"

"How the hell do you deal with the chub rub, it hurts!"

"Talcum powder," Will replied, still catching his breath. "And you're. Definitely coming back to the infirmary for more tests."

"Give me a few days," Nico conceded, and Will nodded, standing up- and immediately staggering.

"Fuck, where's my vision gone-"

"Where you left it," Nico replied deadpan, but Will was too busy waving his hand in front of his face.

"Will it come back or do I have to call it like a dog?"

"Just move around a little. It leaves this weird fuzzy pressure in your skull a little when it comes back but you won't pass out if you still got your hearing."

"Oh my god how are you not dead yet, what the hell is wrong with your body why is it doing this to me?"

"A lot of things, doc," Nico replied, springing to his feet, "a hell of a lot of things. It's your problem now!" Will groaned dramatically, slowly walking towards the training arena.

Will was definitely having fun. Nico's powers were just so cool, so fun, and so emo. He had to resist the urge to make his own edgy music videos to MCR songs using the shadows and skeletons as special effects.

He was currently watching Nico using his powers, which was definitely a sight to behold. Nico was manipulating the light into heavily concentrated rays, stepping inside them, and emerging elsewhere. He was placing his hands upon the bones beneath them and breathing life into them, returning their souls. How could a son of Apollo do necromancy? But Nico… Nico had spent the last few years amongst the dead, and it was allowing him to use his knowledge to manipulate Will's powers into something stronger, something unstoppable. And Nico had discovered how to make deadly whips of light, how to create haemorrhagic plagues, how to create a sonic whistle loud enough that it may deafen or kill. In just a few short hours, Nico had unlocked abilities Will wasn't sure he was even supposed to have.

And then it was Will's turn with Nico's powers… but what could he do? Nico was already… well, overpowered. He was able to boost Nico's healing powers using the shadows, was able to use Nico's ability to solidify the shadows to create tiny tools- he could will the shadows into a body, turn them into sutures, use them to hold off a bleed. Will discovered he could break or fix bones, could fuse them, could unfuse them. He discovered he could turn his hand transparent, could reach inside and fix the problem without cutting people open. He could use the shadows to freeze or cauterize, could keep an organ on ice in the shadows, or burn the flesh to stem a bleed. He could return a soul to the body from the underworld, could stop death…

Well fuck. When using each other's powers, with the knowledge and skills of their own… they were doing things that they were sure were… were never intended for a demigod to do… that made them more powerful than their parents.

Suddenly, experimenting with their powers felt dangerous.

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dailybeastarsthings · 3 years ago

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Chapter 4 - Can This Day Get Any Worse? 4.1. It's Not Easy Being A Bunny

The school’s cafeteria is one of the main areas where all students can meet with each other without any boundaries. The area was designed to be able to serve all kinds of animals regardless of their species and sizes. The main area was dissected into three larger levels, which looked like platforms. They were bordered by wooden walls planted with succulents and tiny shrubs to create a greener atmosphere. The roof was made out of glass to ensure that natural light can always get inside. In the four corners and the middle of the cafeteria, there were large oak trees planted with decks on multiple branches. This served as the dining area for smaller animals, such as mice, squirrels or songbirds. The tree was specially developed so its leaves would rarely fall, in order to avoid any accidents.

The cafeteria was packed for dinner, as usual. Students lined up at the kitchen ladies, who served them the food. The meals were specially chosen and prepared to satisfy both herbivore and carnivore students. Each day, there were separate meals for carnivores and herbivores. Today, carnivores were given steamed soy beans, egg salad, black bean pastries and milk, while herbivores were given vegetables boiled in soy milk, fruit parfaits and orange juice. Of course, if a carnivore student preferred something from the herbivore menu, they could change their meals and vice versa.

In the mass of animals, there was a small Netherlands dwarf rabbit girl. Her name was Haru. Her fur was pure white with no marks or any other colors. Her eyes were pitch black. One could easily get lost in them, wondering what thoughts were being kept secret behind them. She was quite short even for her species so she wore shoes with thicker soles to add to her height. As she walked along the line, her uniform was flowing in the air.

Today’s dinner is my favorite, I just can’t wait to eat it!” she thought. “Now I just need to find a place to sit.”

She paced the area for free seats and found three tables with free seats. First, she walked up to a female mongoose student.

“I’m sorry, may I sit here?” Haru asked.

“Umm… Sorry, but I’m waiting for my friend” the mongoose replied.

Next, Haru walked up to a feline student, who didn’t even pay much attention to her. It seemed like she recognized her and since the situation was too awkward for her, she just went back to eating without saying anything.

Haru was a bit annoyed, but she still had one option, a group of rabbits.

“Hey, may I sit with you, please?” Haru asked them.

But they were so busy chatting they didn’t even hear her question. Haru’s ears drooped but she wasn’t the type of girl to get upset over a situation like this. She walked outside and sat down on the stairs to enjoy her meal.

“Oh well, I’m sitting alone behind the building but at least the food is delicious” she thought as she was eating her meal in silence. She suddenly heard another student calling for her. It was her roommate, Sally.

“Haru! There you are.”

“Oh, hey, Sally. Are you heading back to the dorm?”

“Well… umm… yeah. Why are you eating your food alone in this place? Don’t you think it’s too dangerous for a small herbivore like you to be alone after the incident?”

“Well… It’s better than eating alone in the cafeteria. Anyway, if you’re so worried about me, why don’t we have dinner together?”

“Oh… Sorry, I can’t. I can’t be seen together with you. Everyone in the school knows what you did.”

“Well, that figures” Haru sighed. “Everyone’s been avoiding eye contact with me for two days now…”

“Mizuchi is really mad about it. Take it from your roommate, okay? Try to act less resilient.”

And with that, Sally walked off without saying goodbye, leaving Haru by herself. Haru lost herself in her thoughts…

“Is it just me? When an animal is as small as I am, their body will sometimes shake uncontrollably from the pressure of their own heartbeat. If I were to just follow my instincts, I would just keel over and never get back up.”

Haru sighed. For the first time, she felt lonely. Yet she was determined to not allow it to get to her and stand up from this situation even stronger. She finished her meal and went to the main building. She still had some homework to do for tomorrow and wanted to finish it in the library. As she was going up the spiral stairs for small animals, a walnut shell fell down in front of her. And then a couple others followed, but this time, they landed straight on her head.

“What the…”

“Oops, my bad! My hand slipped” said a high-pitched voice.

“Did you get hurt?” asked another one.

“Oh, you’re probably fine, aren’t you? No doubt some boy will come running to save you!” a third added.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine” Haru replied. “Nothing you do can hurt me.”

Haru continued her walk up the stairs, trying to ignore the laughs of the other three girls, but she suddenly came face to face with them. It was Mizuchi and her two allies, a black cat and a raccoon. Mizuchi was a harlequin rabbit and a pretty popular student in Cherryton. If anyone, she could completely destroy someone’s reputation with a gossip in just a few days’ time.

“I guess all of your friends are ignoring you…” she said. “And yet, you’re still holding out quite well. But you do understand your situation don’t you? No one wants to deal with you” she said with the most satisfied smile on her face.

Haru didn’t mind the harsh words Mizuchi threw at her just now. She picked up one of the walnut shells and threw it at her.

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t have time to deal with you or your little friends so bye” Haru said while passing the others without even looking at them.

“Hey! I’m not finished with you!” Mizuchi yelled.

“If you’ve got enough time to spread rumors about me, you surely have enough time to make up with your boyfriend.”

“You have no right to say that! You’re the one who split us up in the first place!”

“I’m sorry, but he’s the one who kissed me. I don’t know what you were told and I don’t really care either” Haru said while turning around with a smug look on her face. “Still, a buck who’d get infatuated over a little kiss isn’t worth much if you ask me.”

And that was it. Right then and there, Mizuchi was destroyed and she knew it. The frustration caused her two-toned face to turn completely red. She picked up the janitor’s water bucket and threw the water at Haru, who fell to the ground.

“Listen well. We were a harlequin rabbit couple. Harlequin rabbits are an endangered species. We’re on a completely different league with obvious pedigree. And yet you, a plebian dwarf rabbit, went and destroyed that couple! How dare you! We’re going to spread rumors that you’re messing with other male students as well.”

Haru was not surprised by Mizuchi’s reaction but she was still a bit upset. Her clothes and fur were dripping wet and the other three were laughing at her.

“Let’s go girls” Mizuchi said. “You should really pick yourself up from the floor, Haru. Or don’t. It suits you anyway.”

And with that, the terrible trio was finally gone. Their footsteps echoed in the corridor for a few moments but with each passing second, they became quieter. Haru stood up and looked at herself. Her clothes were dripping wet. Fortunately, the water didn’t get into her bag, so at least her schoolwork was safe. She looked for the nearest restroom and walked inside. She went inside one of the stalls, closed the door and hung her dress on the door. She sat on top of the toilet seats and started the rest of her homework.

“Well, it’s not the library but at least no one should bother me here” she thought.

It didn’t take Haru to finish her school work. She completed an essay and two multiple choice exercises and was ready to go. She reached out for her uniform, which was almost completely dry. She got dressed, exited the stall and washed her hands.

“I don’t want to go back to the dorm yet… I’ll just spend some time around the back of the gym” she thought.

She looked in the mirror and took a good look at herself.

“When males see this face, they start to approach me thinking »I want to help her« or »I want to protect her«… But when they realize that I’m different from their fantasies, they use me and eventually leave. Right… The winners of this world are the animals who live by their feral instincts. I was destined to be a loser. I lived a life of being used as fodder for other animals.”

It was already late when Haru exited the main building. It was really quiet all over the school and only a few lights were on in the dorms. A thin layer of mist was resting lightly on the ground, deterring from Haru’s way as she took her steps towards the gym. It almost felt to her like even the mist didn’t want to touch her anymore. She reached the gym and headed towards the fountain in front of it.

Haru was always mesmerized by the dancing water. She didn’t know why, but she enjoyed looking at it for hours, enjoying the sight of the little drops being painted into colorful gems by the surroundings or silver tears by the moonlight. It was a place where she could calm herself down in all cases – exams, arguments, family life… But the peace and harmony didn’t feel the same this time. She felt as if someone was watching her. She heard a rustle from the gym’s entrance.

“Someone’s here. But who could it be? Do they know who I am? Do they want to hurt me? Or… can it be the one who killed that alpaca?”

She heard the rustle once again… The other one moved closer to her… Tears started to flow from Haru’s eyes. Her legs were trembling. She wanted to run but her legs wouldn’t move – they were heavy as stones.

“I’ll let you have me… But please… Just once in my pathetic life…Give me a reason to run away in fear… Give me a reason to cry in fear… Give me a reason to value my life…”

With all these thoughts in her head, she started running towards the arches. She couldn’t even make two steps though when she could feel her body being grabbed by large hands with sharp claws… She was trapped. And yet, she felt completely calm.

“Could you understand what valuing your life is?” she thought. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t have to. I can feel that his desires resonate with mine. I’m just glad they are not here to see me like this…”

#beastars #beastars fanfiction

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a-forgotten-spirit · 5 years ago

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Love Isn’t An Illusion (1)

Credit to Rightful Owners

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Last competition at the sports festival

Words: +-6600

Warnings: Bad parents, mentions of a scary man, coughing up blood (Fake), UA sports festival violence, no friends, quiet kid, fear of failure, fainting.

Tags (I tagged the people who commented on my post if you wish to be untagged feel free to send an ask): @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader.

Masterlist ________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

It was the last round of the sports festival, I had made it this far. Sneaking and compelling people to believe in things that weren’t there, to begin with. This was my chance to show off my quirk and let everyone know I deserved to be here. This was my chance to show the world I could be a hero. My class didn’t know my quirk and that was helpful in times of need, I must admit, I had been training and awaiting this day. The girls had gotten into those cheerleading uniforms that Momo had made, it was cute but when Present Mic announced they weren’t meant to be in them I had to stifle a laugh. The side games started and I was so glad I got in.

When drawing lots we all began to go to Midnight and I sighed out trying to calm myself as Ojiro put up his hand and said he wished to not compete, this only would happen three times in his life for this school and that’s if he made it into the third round the next year. He began to explain he didn’t remember anything and said he blamed the player he was with, the boy with purple hair and black under eyes. Toru just said he should go but he brought up this pride and then someone from 1-B did the same thing. Kirishima flushed about manliness and it was nice. Looking at the board I smiled, I earned my place here.

Kirishima vs Tetsutetsu Tokoyami vs Yaoyorozu Ashido vs Y/N Shinso vs Midoriya Todoroki vs Sero Uraraka vs Bakugou Iida vs Hatsume Kaminari vs Shiozaki

So I was versing Ashido first, that wouldn’t be hard. I went into a room and tried to calm myself down. I had to be ready for this, it would be a lot. I felt bad but I needed to win, this was what I was made for. I would win this. My fellow peers were doing their things while doing the other side challenges which was nice to watch when I came back from getting some food. I was worried about this but as I came to the stands to watch I smiled sitting down.

The first match was Deku and Shinso, this Shinso character seemed to be very skilled but also has scared some of his fellow peers and created that show about wanting to go be in 1-A. I had to watch everyone in case they advanced. Immediately Shinso began to talk about how stupid Ojiro was and Deku yelled but then he just stopped dead in his tracks. I turned seeing Ojiro stand and say he told Deku not to talk, Shinso’s quirk needed you to talk.

Present Mic began to yell about how Deku just stood not moving and then watching as Deku began to just walk out of bounds, what was going on. He wasn’t in control of himself, this quirk was far too powerful. But Shinos' quirk wasn’t physical so he had little to no chance in the practical exam, so this was something to remember. He deserved to be in the hero course but it was almost impossible for him to get in. But then Deku stopped walking and the wind blew across the stadium as he stopped just in time, how did he break the hold, it looked like he too was stunned. I had to pay attention to both of them now, both could make it to the next round. Deku ran as he tried to push Shinso out of the ring, Shinso punching and trying to win. I felt bad, if not responded he would lose and with one over the shoulder throw from Deku Shinso was out of bounds. I felt bad but this is how the games worked. Shinso looked mad, I would be too if I was him. People cheered and congratulated them both but as Shinso walked to the stands heroes were congratulating him and saying he could be a hero which was lovely to hear. In reality, he would make a very good hero, villains tended to be loudmouths.

Next match was Todoroki and Sero, Deku came back and joined his friends as I sat at the back of the group in silence. Present Mic introduced both of them and within seconds Sero had grabbed Todoroki with his tape and began to swing him around the boundaries but Todoroki’s foot came down to the ground and ice just erupted into the stadium, crawling around Sero and in front of the class, it was strong. Stronger than anyone here so far, that power was extraordinary. Midnight asked if Sero could move and it was obvious he couldn’t so with a simple answer Todoroki has ready won the match and it was over, Todoroki had won, with ease. This was crazy, I don’t think I could beat him if push came to shove but I would have to do it to win. Everyone in the stands was just calling out “Nice try” no one could beat him, melting the ice they walked from the boundaries.

Next was Kaminari and that plant girl, her voice soft and hair made of vines, she was going on about being a hero and I lost interest quite quickly. Present Mic apologised and I noticed Kaminari have to compose himself, it was sad to watch. Kaminari’s attack was nothing as her vines gripped him and held him in the air, she won. Impressive. That blonde began to yell at us, eyes wide and mouth open, he was quite annoying but the redhead with large fists took him away. I could hear Deku mumbling to himself as he wrote in that little book of his, I could hear him from the back of the stands.

The fourth match was Iida and Hatsume, the match was boring. She just wanted to show off her work and then gloat about it, her mic called out over the crowd, she wasn’t my favourite but then again Iida was trying his hardest. She was smart I’ll give her that but this was extremely annoying. She looked crazy. After showing them all off she simply stepped out of bounds. He seemed mad but then again she was getting what she wanted out of it. Only this time I wasn’t watching from the sidelines but the tv in the room, I was next up and this was my chance to show off my skills.

I walked out and stood still not moving and my face showed not a care in the world, I had to remain calm this was my chance. Present Mic introduced us “The silent scary one Y/LN Y/N from the hero course vs... is there some kind of purpose for those things sticking out of her head, from the same class Mina Ashido” she was stretching as I simply stood still not wanting to move, I needed to focus.

“This match is going to be a piece of cake” she smiled and pointed to my form cutely if only she knew what she was in for. I felt bad that she didn’t know my quirk and I knew hers but I had gotten in on recommendation thankfully otherwise I'd be in Shinso’s shoes. I didn’t respond to her. I knew her friends would be cheering her on but I couldn’t help but be saddened no one would be cheering for me.

Once the match began she slid along the ground by her acid, like ice skating. I stood still and I could see the confusion and peoples faces. I turned and looked to her, she was smiling and so happy to be here and in this match, she was confident. She was fast but not fast enough. Closing my eyes I opened them and she froze instantly. My quirk allowed me to create illusions that not only I could control but could do damage if I so wished, I preferred fears. Her fear was hard to determine, she had a few but creepy things seemed to fit. It went dark for her though I could still see in the real world, she fell to the floor clutching her arms in fear. The crowd went silent as she shook her head.

“Get away from me” she screamed and I made the creature try to swipe for her and tear up the ground, you could see the ground tear and then with a simple breath out she got up and began to run, this is what I wanted. She was running and fell, she was so scared. I could practically feel her heartbeat “I said get away from me” everyone had their fears, no one could beat me, I could win this all. A few more swipes and then she was out of bounds and I stopped the view. She looked around. That's all I needed to do.

“Ashido” Midnight called out and she looked around and then looked to me in fear and shook her head “Is out of bounds. Y/N will be moving to the next round” it was silent as Ashido looked out to me and shook her head. She couldn’t see or hear during an illusion or manifestation. She didn’t know what was going on. The crowd was silent as I began to walk back to the door, I came out of.

“She didn’t even move” “How did the ground tear up” “Ashido looked terrified” “That was unfair” “What even happened”

I heard a few people ask and then onto the next round. I could have shown them all, what Ashido was seeing but then my next opponents would know my strategy. I didn’t want to attend the next match, I went to a back room and sat down looking at the monitor. I hoped Ashido was ok though, I didn't mean to scare, or, I did. I just needed to win, I wanted to show off.

Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu, their quirks were very impressive and it was hard to try and figure out which would win but I had an idea. I had been studying everyone through my time at UA. Yaoyorozu questions herself which is something she cannot do in a match while Tokoyami relies on Dark Shadow. Once the match began Dark Shadow was pushing her and within seconds she was out of the boundaries, she stood there for a moment as Tokoyami just walked out. That was incredible. He barely moved, barely did anything.

Then came Tetsutetsu vs Kirishima. The match was long and very boring but cute in some sorta way. They had the same quirk, they fought with a lot of passion but I left the room to wait for my next match. Walking in I wasn’t expecting to see Iida, Deku and Uraraka standing in there. I should have thought ahead. Uraraka looked scared but the other two I think are trying to comfort her in a way.

“Oh hey Y/N” Uraraka spoke and the two others turned to me with questioning looks. I stepped back as she looked me over. Why was she looking me over?

I bowed “Sorry I didn’t know this room was in use” I quickly turned and tried to leave as fast as I could. I could hear them talk but I was walking away by then. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, Ashido I didn’t doubt had told people what she saw and I didn’t want to face anyone just yet. Going back into the viewing room I was grateful no one was there.

The next match was Uraraka vs Bakugou, no wonder she was scared. I would be, I wanted to root for her but Bakugou was so strong and dedicated to being a hero I didn’t doubt he’d pull out all the stops to win. I paid close attention as I may have to go against one of them in the future.

When the match began Uraraka just sprinted straight for him with no mercy, this was insane. With one swing of his hand, she was sent barreling into the side of the boundaries, smoke weaving around them. Bakugou did another hit through the smoke but it was her jacket, behind him. His reaction time was crazy turning and simply blasting her once more. This continued, she ran at him and then he exploded. I applauded her determination and Bakugou’s power. Bakugou was far too strong to be in the first year, this continued her running then Bakugou blasting her away. She wasn’t resting and her energy would soon run out. People were complaining and Eraserhead quickly shut them up with saying Bakugou knew she deserved to be here and wanted to show his power. I had to agree but Uraraka released her quirk, rocks falling from the sky, he tore up the floor. A very smart idea, as they fell to the stadium she ran with the rest of her strength though all he did was hold his arm and let out an ear ringing explosion. I could feel my room shake with the force. How was he that strong, that is insane. As the smoke cleared he was fine, not a single injury, untouched. She stood up but her body fell to the ground making Bakugou stop. This was crazy, her body was giving up on her, exhausted. Though I couldn’t blame her, she had been exploded endlessly. She was taken out and Bakugou won the match. Round one, done.

The first match of the second round was Midoriya vs Todoroki. This was sure to be interesting. I hadn’t gone back to my class not wanting to face them until the end of the festival. I wanted to show that I could do this but the look in people's eyes when Ashido lost was heartbreaking. I had to pay close attention to them both. Within seconds Todoroki had let off an ice attack but Deku was able to counter it at the cost of his finger. Doing it again he was now four fingers down, two from his last match. This was far too intense, he was hurting himself to have a chance at winning. Deku just continued to break his fingers, his quirk was very strange indeed. Why did his quirk hurt him so much, a quirk was a part of you though he seemed to reject him. One hand down and he was caught in ice only to use his whole hand. With ease, Todoroki got up and was ready to fight again. Did Todoroki have a limit to how much he could use? His ice power seemed to be limitless. Deku then began to talk to him, there was no volume to the tv, though I did notice the shake in Todorokis' arm, he was getting cold. That was his limitation though why didn’t he use his fire quirk. Todoroki was just running at him, he was slower though, Deku was able to land a hit, that was impressive in itself. They were using everything in their power to win, to show off their power. I was leaning close to the tv to watch them, they both had so much power I didn’t know if I could win against them he was using his body no matter how much it hurt him. Deku landed another hit to Todoroki. Deku landed another punch and Todoroki seemed out of it, he looked out of this world but he still got up. The sound was off but he had said something, why was no one stopping this. Todoroki just burst into flames, his firepower in use, what had Deku said to get him so riled up. No way Deku could win this. Would I have to fight him, there was no way I could win against that. When their power collides the building shook once more and I held the TV looking around desperately trying to see who won but as the smoke cleared then Deku just fell, Todoroki won. I wouldn’t have to fight him, right? There was not a chance in the world I could win against him. I leaned back in the chair and shook my head, there was not a chance I could win. He had to be afraid of something, right? Shiozaki vs Iida was over quickly in my opinion, Iida was far to fast for her to do anything but then it was my turn once again. As I walked out the crowd went silent and I looked to Tokoyami.

“Begin” Present Mic called out and I could hear the cheering for Tokoyami but none for me, this was incredibly disappointing. I wondered if my parents were watching this, were they proud of me.

Breathing out, I could win this, with ease. Once the match started he brought out dark Shadow, a powerful quirk I have to admit but not strong enough to beat my own. The sad thing was that he feared his quirk, my illusion turned the sky into a dark abyss that only Tokoyami could see, I kept Dark Shadow out of it, in case he did indeed think he had more power than he did. Creating another view for Tokoyami was that his friends were in danger they both left fighting me to try and fight their inner selves. Dark Shadow was brought into his host quickly, the darkness was only a ruse it was easy for him to do so but with the image of Dark Shadow trying to get out I made a patch of light appear and he began to run. Once there the darkness cleared and he was out of bounds. He turned to look at me then down at himself and his eyes widened as I bowed and turned on my heel.

“Look at that, she didn’t even move” Present Mic called out and I looked to the ground as I made my way into the hall I came from. “What is her quirk” he called out and I looked up as people viewed me, looking back down I could hear him finish “I wouldn’t want to fight her”

The yelling began again, they wanted to know what I was doing. Not yet, my next match was Iida who was far too smart for his good. I walked out of the stadium and made my way back to the room I was in, the back one, the one no one went into. Then came Bakugou vs Kirishima, Kirishima had won against his opponent via an arm wrestle. I was next this was news to me but not an issue at all.

Kirishima and Bakugou’s fight was long but very interesting indeed, Bakugou continued to counter, Kirishima had a limit to his quirk. Bakugou laid hit after hit on Kirishima and then he was gone, Kirishima was knocked out and Bakugou was ready to advance. I was versing Iida and then either Bakugou or Todoroki, at that thought I shivered. I would have to give my all, both of them seemed level headed but I could create anything. I could do this. My quirk was strong and hero material I could do this.

Standing up I began to make my way to the stadium once more, walking out I breathed and came to stand opposite Iida. “Your quirk is strong” he called out, he was fast. I would have to use my quirk immediately and possibly still dodge.

“As is yours” I stated and everyone went silent as did he. I didn’t talk in class and tried not to as much as I could, he wasn’t expecting a response and neither was the crowd. I stood still once again and nodded to Iida who nodded back. Closing my eyes I breathed in.

“Begin” Midnight called out and my eyes burst open to take over Iidas view as I jumped to the side to avoid him though that was all it took for him to stop and take a step back. He didn’t quite fear what I was showing him but he cared about people far too much.

“Y/N” I heard over the loudspeaker “This is too show your quirk, please let the crowd see what you are doing” I sighed, I didn’t want to show anyone before the final round. I could see both Todoroki and Bakugou viewing my fight “This is your teacher” with a simple huff I let everyone see what Iida was seeing.

I was coughing as he stopped and it looked like the people in the stands cheering. I fell to the ground and when I looked up blood was falling from my lips “Y/N” he called and ran over as it looks like Midnight did too, coming to stand next to me as I continued to cough up blood.

“You see her quirk is illusions that is like a manifestation. Iida was trying to ask if I was okay and the look on the crowd was disbelief. “She can make you see what she wants, though she plays on people’s fears or worries. Iida cares about people too much”

“Take her to recovery girl, you’re the fastest. Go now” I coughed again my hands coming to hold the blood “It is ok she will be looked after” Midnight called out as Iida picked me up and began to run out of bounds once he had reached that point I fell into ash in his hands and he stopped and I let the view go back to normal. He turned and saw me.

“It was a trick, it seemed so real” he whispered and I bowed to him. I felt bad, but I was forced to show off my quirk, it was something I had to do. If Aizawa hadn’t spoken I could have won and the boys wouldn’t know my quirk.

“Y/N advances to the next round” a loud and roaring cheer erupted and I smiled lightly, I could hear my name being called and people talking only this time it wasn’t negative or confusing but positive and congratulating.

“With a quirk like that, she could be offence and defence not to mention they can cause physical attacks” “I want her at my agency” “Her quirk could be used in any hero setting” “Strong and in control of the situation, hasn’t move except that small bit with all her fights”

I walked out feeling in control and ready for the next match. Going back to my room I got ready to watch Bakugou and Todoroki. I was going to be versing one of the two and at this point, I didn’t want either. They were both so strong and had seen my quirk they could try and get out of it but I could just hide. I could do this.

I was watching them so intensely, as they walked out into the stadium, I could feel my heart pound. I was going to have to face one of these people and now they both knew my quirk. They looked so in control and ready for a fight. When the fight started I leaned forward watching as Todoroki placed his hand on the ground ice erupting at lightning speed towards Bakugou, faster than with Deku. He’s recharged. Bakugou was fast though his hands moving as though it meant nothing to him, I could hear the explosions through the stadium, they were giving their all. Ice encircled him, was this the end of the match. Did Bakugou lose that quickly? The ice was at the top of the stadium, sharp and cold. I felt a shiver run down my back at the thought of versing the ice maker. Then came the rumbling, rhythmic and strong, what was this, it had to be Bakugou. An explosion rang out the ice exploding around the stadium and Todoroki jumped back, they were so strong. Watching Bakugous' hands gently lean on the ice, steam was created, within seconds they were barreling towards each other. I leaned forward my eyes wide, I couldn’t fight them. I was scared and I was nowhere near the fight. Bakugou was too fast making a quick move and grabbed Todoroki flipping him over, ice is what caught the other. They could both do close combat and distance, offence and defence. I should be doing a Deku and writing down everything I could. Todoroki surfing ice, Bakugou made another hit but Todoroki just threw him away, why wasn’t he using his fireside? He could potentially win if he did. Little explosions burst from the palms of Bakugou only then he was running at full force, who would win this. Todoroki just stood there, Bakugou jumped using his explosions and then began to twist, creating a tornado of sorts, fire stretched along the others arm, this was going to be big. The impact was made the stadium shaking as it had so many times that day, I couldn’t look away. Just like with Deku's’ fight I looked desperately trying to see who would still be standing after that. The smoke cleared and Bakugou laid on the floor, with Todoroki now sprawled over his ice, out of bounds. Bakugou ran and yelled but there was no sound I couldn’t hear it, what was he saying? Then he collapsed Midnight’s clothing ripped and producing her quirk. Once Bakugou was awake and ready I was going to fight him. I was going to have to fight Bakugou. What could I do against him?

Leaning back I looked over when Bakugou’s face was seen on the screen next to my own, saying “Final round” I was shaking. He would awake soon and I was already shaking. My hands began to sweat, what could I do against a powerhouse like Bakugou. This was far too intense for my body and mind to take. I moved to grab the water next to me and downed it in one go, trying to calm my nerves. Standing up I began to pace. What could I do too not only wow the spectators and agencies but win? He knew how my quirk worked now, I couldn’t do a single thing. No one could hear him when in one of my illusions and it would be a lot of energy to use everyone in the crowd and keep my body from being exploded in real life if I got injured the illusion might break. A few more side games and I was being called out, Bakugou was awake and angry from what I had heard.

Walking out to the stadium, I breathed a sigh and walked up the steps to see Bakugou, small explosions coming from his palms and I stood still looking over at him “I know how your damn quirk works, you can’t fool me” he yelled and the ground went silent waiting for me to respond.

Leaning to one side I smiled an illusion come next to him “Oh really” it whispered and he growled, a hand moving up his arm the illusion exploded within a second, I smiled “I think I'll do just fine Katsuki Bakugou” his eyebrow raised in question before he yelled in anger.

“The final match Katsuki Bakugou vs Y/N Y/LN. Begin” he yelled and I smiled as he began to run full speed towards my direction. I wanted this to be a show, a show for all to see. But he was faster than I expected within seconds I created a wall around my body, a physical illusion, he was stopped for the moment. Moving away I made an illusion of myself on the ground kneeling as an explosion went off and I was laying on the ground, quickly moving to get up as the wall fell into ash.

He followed that one. It was easy to fool him, too easy. By letting the audience see what was happening, all except one. Aizawa. He could prove I wasn’t cheating once my plan was complete. Bakugou followed my running figure. I made sure to make everything look as it did, even the TV’s showed the copies. I could only control inside the stadium so the people at home would be seeing me standing, that was ok.

“You won’t get away from me” he screamed and I created a wall around fake me, just too look like I was trying to get away faster, he exploded it. Perfect smoke. The smoke clouded his vision and I made the boundaries a little bit bigger. Not enough to notice and moved me to make it look normal once more. I may as well sit down for this match. No, I had to stay focused.

“I think I'm doing pretty well” the copy called out and he growled explosions going off as I created one behind him as my fake me disappeared, an illusion inside an illusion. I kept creating them, faster and faster as he exploded them then with a final one. Boundaries were a bit bigger, each hit. The original fake me then got too close and exploded, making them physical she was thrown back harshly all illusions falling to ash. I looked to be struggling, trying to get up as the copy held their arm in pain, the arm they landed on. It looked so real, I was getting good at this.

“Your physical body can still be harmed” he smirked and I did too the real me. He hadn’t landed a single hit on my form, he was too focused on destroying my copies to worry about the size of the boundaries, he was getting closer. I was thinking too much I didn’t notice him running. So with a fast duck and punch to his ribs, the copy sent him flying.

“You make it sound like I don’t know hand to hand combat” the copy smiled and then clutched their arm again, the arm began to shake, he took notice, good. He was up within a second running once more, hand to hand continued but with one big blow to the copy, she was sent flying through the air and landed with a thud, a loud and bone-cracking thud. The crowd yelled and cheered. Stay focused, everyone would know my power. I could win this. I had to stay focused. I was so close to him going out of bounds.

The copy tried to rise and fell once, then rose body swaying in not only exhaustion but pain. This was a hard illusion to keep up, a lot of changing and moving. I had to work harder, I was losing focus and my own body swayed. Shaking my head I looked back to them, Bakugou was smirking and walking slowly to the shaking figure. Now was the time, the copy looked around and then more copies appeared and the original disappeared.

“You won’t beat me” explosions so many explosions went off. I continued to make them, running at him. Flipping and disappearing before reappearing in different areas. Hit being made and then being exploded. I almost fell, this was a lot to take. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts and expanded the boundaries with each blow. Smoke clouding his vision. I look down at my real body, I was still in the boundaries, I was losing the sense of where I was. I needed him out of the boundaries. The original fake appeared on their knees and breathing heavily, then I noticed I was doing the same. This was a lot of energy to produce. Aizawa could see both the illusion and myself in reality. I stood up as did the copy though they held their arm.

“You and these damn illusions” he yelled and began to run, as did the copy trying desperately to make illusions to stop him. I was running on empty. I took the last bit of my energy to make a copy behind him that twirled in the air and sent a hard and powerful kick to his back. Sending him falling, his torso was out of bounds, the real ones. Immediately the illusion fell to ash as I swayed. Bakugou looked down as everyone was confused then saw me and it was silent. “It was all an illusion” he turned.

“Y/N made illusions inside illusions to make it seem like she was there though that whole match” Aizawa paused as did the crowd “she did not move” I could see everyone turn to my heavily breathing figure. Cheers and congratulations. “She allowed me to see but not the crowd to allow a sense of realism” another cheer but it was blurred in my ears.

“Bakugou is out of bounds. Y/N is the winner” Midnight called and I could hear the cheering murky and blur but I swayed. Bakugou turned and looked at me, he was angry but I watched his face softened as my eyes rolled back.

I could feel my body falling, I had gone far past my limit to win. I wanted to show everyone I could do this. To show even with a deceiving quirk I could still be a hero. I knew the cameras would see me just standing there so everyone would know how much effort it took to create such a show but within a second. My eyes rolled back and I fell, my body hitting the floor with a thud and I passed out. I used too much energy. Before all my senses faded I did see Bakugou running “Y/N” I heard the yell but I was gone.

I came too, I had been told I was out for about twenty minutes as my body regenerated. The award ceremony would be happening in the next ten minutes so I should get into position. I had also been told I was brought here by “My opponent with the spiking hair and angry look”, known as Bakugou. I had to thank him. I drank some water and devoured a protein bar.

I walked to the area here pillars of rock would move up to show the finalists and smiled seeing Todoroki and Bakugou there. “Hey” I called my voice small and my hand waved. Todoroki turned and smiled too, well it wasn't a smile more of a straight line, but more than a frown. I made my way up the steps and could hear Midnight calling to the crowd that the award ceremony would be complete in a matter of minutes. “Bakugou” he turned to me, face angry and arms crossed. “Thank you for a good fight and for taking me to the nurse”

“Whatever” he started and I nodded, I was trying to talk to make this a little less awkward. “I’ll just destroy you next year, I’ll get better and kill you” he yelled his head high and body tense. That was Bakugou. I could see Todorokis’ eyes roll in annoyance and I nodded.

“I look forward to facing you again” I smiled and then a copy of myself appeared behind him whispering in his ear “Bakugou” he turned and his arm went straight through the copy with an added string of curses. I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Y/N,” Todoroki asked and I turned nodded for him to continue “Why did you say Bakugou’s full name when fighting him,” he asked, he had noticed that. I flushed lightly and swatted my hand quickly.

“Well it’s apart of my quirk” I started and Bakugou seemed interested now, his gaze turning from the now gone copy to my eyes. “I can make anyone see an illusion but only the physical ones work when I know someone’s name” I added and they both seemed very interested now.

“You need to know someone full name for the physical attacks to work” Bakugou questioned and I also noticed Todorokis’ mouth closed as I was guessing he was going to ask the same question as to his classmate.

“No I need to know a name, whether it be the first name, last name, nickname, a name they go by, hero or villain name. When I was recommended I tried it on Aizawa not knowing his first name or last name, still don’t know his first name but my quirk worked, he doesn’t know nor do any of the teachers, I tested this myself. I just need to put a name with a face and since I go to school with you both” I created copies to stand behind them whispering in time “I know your names” they turned and Bakugous’ yell rang out as Todoroki looked at the copy.

“Now the awards” the copies fell into ash before disappearing as the pillars were hoisted into the stadium, the three of us standing in silence as if nothing had happened between the three of us just moments before. The crowd cheered and replayed the best parts of the festival. I looked up and saw all mine were just me standing there though they did add in the one where I fell as Bakugou was fighting my copies, did they have to show that. “And who better than to give the awards” Midnight shouted as All Might came into view.

Jumping down and landing in front of us I waited for my turn. “Todoroki, you battled well” he continued to go on and they had a little conversation I didn’t pry into, I just wanted this to be over, I was tired and needed rest. I had to go home after this, I could show my parents my victory, I wonder if they watched it. “Bakugou my boy, you sure went hard” they didn’t care when I got into UA so would they care about this. “Y/N” I heard my name and looked up seeing All Might. “Still off in your little world I see, you fought hard and it was smart not showing your quirk to the stadium and allowing Aizawa to see that Bakugou did leave the boundaries. Strategic, you’ll make a great hero someday” placing the medal around my neck I smiled and nodded, bringing me in for a hug I couldn’t help but hug back “Now we just need to work on your stamina” I nodded and the ceremony was over.

I looked down at my medal and smiled, I won the sports festival, this was the best day of my life. I sat and watched this for so many years and now I was the winner. We were told our parents were picking us up after the festival and I could see people waiting. I watched as my mother rolled up and got out of the car I walked over.

“Mum did you see me” I held my medal proudly in my hand while it was still around my neck. I didn’t notice people looking “Mum I won. I won the sports festival” she walked past me and signed off that she was here to pick me up, when walking back I smiled “Mum I won” I repeated with a smile showing off my medal.

With a dramatic sigh and a lift of her brows and sunglasses, she looks to me, then down at the medal “Very nice dear, a medal. You participated, good for you” then she began to walk off. I could see the way people looked down or their parents looked to my own. This wasn’t the time or place to show my parental problems.

“Thank you Aizawa” I whispered and walked to the car, everything was silent. She thought it was a participation award after I had said I won. I had been waiting for this day since I first saw the sports festival and she didn’t even give me the decency to congratulate me. Getting in the car I closed the door and put my seatbelt on as we drove off. I didn’t miss the saddened faces of my peers. ________________________________________________________________ Chapter 2

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snow--blanket · 4 years ago

Text

stream and deer

commissioned by @nyktoon-in-otomeland!

word count: 4028

fandom: ikemen sengoku

characters: kennyo, ishikawa reika ***

There was an old library, south of the forest in Sekihan, and the path there was cobbled and staggering. It depended on who you asked—the widows of soldiers in the past war believed the road was formed by the steps of the Gashadokuro, a skeletal giant that was made from the bones of a thousand fallen men. The ones that hung holly above their doors believed it to be the paw prints of black cats, leading you astray from the crooked road back home.

Kennyo believed differently.

He believed that the wayfarers that had found their way to the boundary between forest and field were looking for something new. Something troubling. They were waiting for a rise in the tide, the grey of smoke and storm that christened the air in the midst of a hail of bullets. They were not looking for something pretty.

They were looking for a reckoning. They were looking for change, and change was what Kennyo needed.

So he made himself steady through the forest, following the path of small stones that dug through his worn down sandals, and the road to the library was so narrow it could hardly be called one. It was more like a small alley, and the thorns pricked him red and stole threads of his sleeves as he walked. Kennyo realised that if he were ambushed in the forest, he could not get out. He was a soldier walking to his death, slowly watching his comrades being killed one by one, lined up and ripe for murder.

He grit his teeth. Murder is what kept him walking, so he did not mind if he died. Still, it should not be here, where so many of his brothers have gone without tombstones to mark their graves.

Kennyo reached the library by the one hundred and fifty-eighth tap, and the library itself was a fairly small thing, like a silo used to store grain. He remembered a soldier that came from the inner town saying that the libraries there were the length of more than a hundred arm spans. This one had no room for Kennyo to walk around the sides or behind, shielded by the thorny wood. He remembered the sight. He'd seen it before.

The library of Sekihan was a heart and the forestry was its ribcage. He knew he was at the right place.

Kennyo walked to the front door, ignoring the foggy windows and the rusty knocker, corroded by time and air and rain. There were no flowers around the library, only the browning summer grass.

When he entered the library, he was surprised by the fact that he didn't cough. In fact, as he looked around his surroundings, the library was quite well kept—only a few books strewn on a table, but the floor was not dusty as he had expected. When he took off his sandals and walked on the wooden floorboards, it was smooth, no layer of dirt for him to wipe off his sole. The lighting in the library, however, was inconvenient. His only source of light was the evening sun filtering through the trees outside and passing through the greyed lens of glass.

Kennyo walked to the bookshelves, looking for a title to catch his eye. His hand landed on the spine of a purple book, foiled with golden stripes. The title read, 'The Magic of Exchanges'. Surely this must be it.

He removed the book from the shelf, but just as he was about to open it, a voice spoke: “I'd prefer it if you knocked next time.”

Kennyo's heart jumped in his chest, and he turned around to see a woman standing from her seat at a table, a book laid open. She rubbed her eyes and walked over to him. The woman stopped in front of him, then took the book from his hands. He was too surprised to react aptly, and for some reason he blushed beside himself.

The woman went ahead and placed the book onto the shelf once more, then turned to look at him. “What is it you need?”

He wasn't sure whether it was the filtered light passing through the foliage that made it seem like her eyes were star-scaped. He couldn't discern the colour of her eyes clearly, but her skin was the colour of the maple branches, and her kimono was a light blue. He blinked at that. “The book.”

The woman sat down in a chair, and then dipped a brush on an inkstone, writing on the pages of the open book. She hummed. “And for what reason?”

Kennyo's brows were tight in a low snarl. “Not something you need to know.”

She sighed. “This is my library. Every book belongs to me.”

Kennyo's legs already began to move, and in an instant, he pressed a blade to her throat. “I didn't ask.”

Her eyes met his own, and then they wandered down to his other hand that was free. She hummed. “Reika.”

“What?”

“My name is Reika. It's the name you will remember me by once you've killed me.” She stood up and walked slowly towards him, and it was then that he realised her eyes were not honey sunset or the orange from a lantern light, but dark as soil. Even though he was the one holding a weapon, the more she stepped closer, the farther he retreated, until they were both no longer doused in the evening light, dipped in darkness.

He could do this. He had killed before. He would do it again.

And yet, the more he pressed the cold steel to her skin, the more doubtful he felt. Kennyo could not take his eyes off of her. He did not try. He tried to say something kind—to make it quick, maybe?—but his tongue froze in his mouth and his words were robbed off him. Foolishly, he said this: “I will not apologise.”

“I don't expect you to,” Reika said, and her eyes wandered to his hand again. He only now realised that he had been drumming his palm with his fingers, a habit born out of anxiousness. “But it's not wise to lie to me.”

Kennyo opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, her hand had pushed his knife away, and his mouth was agape as he watched the small dribble of blood trail down her fingers. Without realising, he had lowered his blade, eyes widened as he saw that the skin where her cut formed chipped off and flaked to the ground like brittle splinters. “Who are you?”

She smiled, and then bowed in a curtsy. “I'm Reika, the tsukumogami of the library, and keeper of the wisdom you seek. And you?”

“Kennyo,” he uttered honestly, belatedly. “A…”

Demon?

“Traveler,” he said. It would do for now. “I'm a traveler.”

Her smile was edged, thorny like the woods. “And do all travelers carry weapons these days? I must have been asleep for quite some time.”

“It is a dangerous world.”

Reika's eyes glanced at the blade in his hand. “It certainly appears that way.” She looked back at him. “So what, pray tell, are you planning to do with the book?”

Kennyo opened his mouth to let the lies fly out like locusts, but he found himself speaking the truth. “I will make myself a monster.”

She regarded him, a sort of understanding sinking into her eyes like stone. As if she has had this conversation a hundred times with a hundred different people. “And whose monster will you be?”

His tongue thawed, and his words came easy and abrasive like sand. “Oda Nobunaga.”

She was quiet. There was no way she hadn't heard the name before. “I'll grant you permission on one condition,” she said. “That you speak truth.”

He considered this. “And when will I receive it, if I do?”

“Whenever I deem you fitful.”

Kennyo gnashed his teeth. Nobunaga's march east would be in three weeks time, so he could only make sure to gain his powers as a demon within that time frame to avoid any more reckless deaths. “In two and a half weeks,” he said. “If you do not deem me fitful then, I will burn this library to the ground.”

She was a tsukumogami, and her spirit resided in the library, tying herself to the same thread. Burning the books was as good as killing her. If he could not make her bleed, he would make her disappear.

Reika smiled. “I don't think you'll need the book to be a monster, then.”

“I will need to be a stronger monster than him,” Kennyo spat out the words like poison.

She hummed, appraising him with… something he could not recognise. Reika turned away from him, tidying up the books on the table. “Come again tomorrow,” she said.

Kennyo nodded, and then left the library. When he arrived home, he asked a village woman about hexes to ward off impurities. The old woman was somewhere in her late forties or early fifties, her wrinkled face stretched like cloth that had gotten loose from use. She had a mother's disposition, taking care of many animals, as well as parenting a lot of the village children. Although she had her own name, everyone called her such.

The old woman hunched over her small, damp, kitchen and tied rosemary and basil leaves together with butcher's twine, and then wrapped it in a small white cloth. She gave it to Kennyo, who uttered his thanks as he slipped it into his kimono. “Are you going somewhere far again?”

“No.” Not now, at least. Kennyo lightly bumped her out of the way, picking up the ladle that still had the remnants of soup. He began his mindless work of tidying up her kitchen, as it often was messy after supper for the kids. “How is…” His voice caught on his throat like the briars had on his sleeves. “How is he?”

The old woman started to stack up the dirty plates, hovering around the table so worriedly it truly gave justice to her title. “The usual. He asked you where you went, but that's about it.”

“I see.”

They were both silent after that, and Kennyo made himself sparse and went home after the old woman had sent him off with rice balls filled with anchovy and pickled plum. When he bathed, the nicks the thorns had made on his arms and legs stung red under the rush of water. There was magic there, he realised. His wounds looked like the sun spots behind his eyelids, a dizzying flower. It'll be worth it, he thought. The pain would be worth it.

He woke up early the next day and ate the half of the pickled plum rice ball, giving half of it to the little boy that was drawing circles on the dirt. Kennyo simply patted his head and said "you need to grow up strong and healthy", smiling as he did so.

“Like you?”

His smile faltered at that. “Even stronger.” I will need to be a stronger monster than him. Kennyo hoped that the words would not echo.

When he arrived at the library again, the narrow path seemed to have widened a bit—now it was not squeezing him like a tied coin purse, but it was as if he was in the kitchen with the village mother, working elbow to elbow. The curtains were drawn fully to let the afternoon glare enter. Even without lanterns, it seemed to be brighter than before.

She greeted him with a smile. “Hello.”

He nodded, and then sat on a chair, all stiff shoulders like he was going to war. “Begin,” he said.

She laughed at that. “If you say so.” She sat near him after she pulled out a green book from the shelf. She pushed it across the table in front of him. “Read.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Kennyo's voice was a low growl.

Reika did not respond to his heat with fire. Instead, her voice was a slow stream from the mountains, ever-enduring. “Not at all.” This, she said without smiling. “Why do you wish to be a demon?”

“So I can kill—” Her gaze silenced him. Speak truth. “So I can avenge my fallen brothers.”

She hummed, then took out a yellow book he'd seen her write on before. She dipped her brush in the inkstone once, and then drawled across the empty pages in fluid motions. “And you think killing Nobunaga will do such a thing?”

“Not at all.” He thought even death was too easy for the devil of the sixth heaven. “But if—” he stammered, “but if it will give them some semblance of peace, then I will do it.”

She stopped her writing, tore out a page to squeeze the ink out of her brush, then put it down. “I'm going to give you something,” Reika said, and pulled out a green book. She flipped open the pages until she stopped at one page, and then a round lumpy object surfaced from the papers, like dead bodies in a lake. Kennyo's eyes widened. She took the object and put it in his hands. It was light, and smooth. Like a small rock that had been polished clean.

He blinked at her incredulously. “What is this?”

She walked past him and closed the yellow book, then nudged it into the bookshelf. When her eyes met his, there was something there. Pinecones and fallen leaves. Like she had seen death without stepping foot on a battlefield. “It's what you are looking for.”

“I am looking for power,” he said, and he almost felt ridiculous. As if speaking it into existence had somehow dulled the scent of gunpowder and burnt embers.

Reika shook her head. “You're looking for hatred,” she said so kindly, “And that is what hatred is.”

Kennyo looked at the rock in his hands, eyes narrowed in puzzlement. This thing was supposed to help him kill Nobunaga? The man who had both the forces of the nine-tailed kitsune and the fierce loyalty of a man turned servant? He couldn't understand it well.

When he tried to prod further, Reika simply smiled and then said goodbye, and he had the good sense to leave her alone after that.

Nine days passed, and the remnants of war returned in the middle of winter.

Kennyo did not visit Reika in that time—because of the ongoing skirmish (it was what they called it, but he digressed) near the village, the daimyo ordered for the soldiers to send any injured or dead to them. The air was thick with the scent of blood and pus. Kennyo had experience with bandaging and basic first aid treatment, so he was in charge of aiding the injured soldiers as well as teaching other young men how to do the same thing.

They managed to set up an area to lay the treated soldiers on a flat field that the children used to play in. Because the medicine was especially ineffective in the cold, they had used up every lantern and candle from the houses to warm the wounded men. The villagers did not complain, for they had gotten used to the chill of the mountains. Like sinners that had gotten used to hell fire.

One man whimpered, tugging Kennyo by his sleeve as he lay and groaned his pain. “Will I… live…?”

The man had part of his lower leg blown off by an explosion, and it was as if a wolf had bitten it off. A wolf would have been kinder. Kennyo was sure there was a way to save him, but he did not know how. All he knew was that if he decided to muffle his breathing with a pillow, it would end his suffering.

And wasn't that a sort of grace in itself?

“No,” he said. He would be a monster, but he would not lie. “But—” he gestured to the other men that lay beside him. “But they might.”

The man smiled. “That's all… I can ask for.” He exhaled, and his sigh was like smoke coming out of the wrong end of a gun. Kennyo looked away.

Because that's all you can afford to ask, Kennyo thought, but bit his words down until he felt blood.

When he was free, he walked to the village mother's house and went into another room with a bowl of gruel in hand. Kennyo's heart beat fast and heavy in his chest. He knocked at the wooden door, a hollow sound. “I'm coming in.”

There was no response, but he entered anyways, and nudged the door close with his leg. He put the bowl onto the small wooden table and then lifted it off the floor to be closer to the bed. Kennyo could hear his shallow breathing. “Have you eaten yet?” He sat on a nearby makeshift stool, a container for biscuits.

No answer. Just his pale eyes that stared at the walls. He had beauty, once. People fawned over him, and his hair that was lavender was now the colour of… rotting meat. Clever eyes that were like wisteria were always closed or looked at something that wasn't there, like a cat that could see ghosts. His beautiful features became wasted and hungry, his skin being pinched by his cheekbones that became more prominent as the days went by.

“Ranmaru,” Kennyo said gently. “You have to eat.”

Ranmaru did not answer. Kennyo hated that he'd forgotten what the sound of his voice was like. When he was happy, he was like a twittering songbird. When he was serious, his breath was steady and his voice rang with clarity. When he was sad…

When he was sad, he was silent, and that was the worst of all.

He only spoke to the village mother, but Kennyo did not chide him for that. People expressed grief differently. Kennyo felt his chest become heftier, like he was the crow that had drunk the rocks with the water. A foolish act.

Kennyo dragged his seat closer, and then spooned the gruel in front of his mouth. Ever since a small girl had come wandering into the room and stared agape at Ranmaru's lack of arms, no one else was allowed to enter aside from the village mother and himself. They had made up silly stories about a ghoul of some kind to ward off the children, and that was how Ranmaru lived. Like a gust of wind that could pass as the voice of a ghost.

When Ranmaru did not open his mouth to eat, Kennyo did not sigh. He returned the spoon to the wooden bowl and put it back on the table and stood up.

As he turned to leave, he felt something slip out of his robes. Kennyo looked at the floor and saw the small rock had escaped him. He crouched to pick it up, dusting it off before slipping it back into his kimono. He straightened, and opened his mouth to tell Ranmaru to rest well, but he did not speak.

For the first time in years, Ranmaru's eyes were alive and lit with disgust, his lips a pulled back snarl like a taut bowstring. “You too?” His voice was quiet and quivering, like a rabbit in a trap. “You're going to kill me too?”

“I don't—”

“Enough already!” When Ranmaru was happy, his voice was a twittering bird. When he was serious, his voice was a warhorn. When he was angry, his voice was a trembling string of a koto being strummed over and over and over until the fingers that played it had gone red and chafe with use. “Enough already… I know I'm already useless to you, Master Kennyo. I know I should die. I know that I can't help you with your goals anymore, and it'll probably be easier to kill me than to take care of me, but—!”

“No. No! You're not—I wouldn't do that to you.” He remembered the man at the tent. “I wouldn't do that to you,” he said.

“But someday you will!” Ranmaru shouted like the words had been ripped out of his mouth, from some part of him that knew the truth. That Kennyo was to be a monster, and he did not know where he stood between his fangs and his hatred.

Ranmaru started shaking, his body convulsing as his breathing started to pick up, shallow and quick and unsteady. Kennyo started to approach him, but Ranmaru whimpered. “Go away.” His eyes looked at him in fear. “Please, go away.” He closed his eyes shut and tears streamed down his face.

So Kennyo did.

He hoped something would make him stay; regret, compassion, kindness. But those could not be his tools as a monster. His human tongue had nestled in slumber behind his canine teeth. So he left, knowing that he did not deserve those half-hearted attempts at deriving the gold of his heart from the poison.

That night, Kennyo slept restlessly, and he thought about the sun spots the thorns had made on him and the look in Ranmaru's eyes. As if he feared him not for holding the gun, but as a volatile bullet in a chamber, waiting for direction and could erupt at a moment's notice. He was a monster at both ends.

The next day, Kennyo visited the library again, and strangely, he did not feel pain when the thorns pricked him. Like a sinner that had gotten used to hellfire indeed.

Without even a greeting, Kennyo laid down the stone on the table where Reika sat at and spoke. “What is this?”

Reika recognised the hurt that flashed in his eyes like fire flowers that were all too willing to burn. “It's a projectile from a canon that's called Ozutsu.”

“Why would you give me such a thing?” Kennyo could not help his frown.

“There are certain weapons that are banned from use, did you know? Because they cause unnecessary suffering.”

“What does that have to do with—” Speak truth. “I don't.”

“Well, where I come from, the leader of the country, so to speak, banned things like… poisonous gases and anything that could be used to set things on fire intentionally. They recognised that even in war, there were certain boundaries one must keep and self regulate on a constant basis, as to not misuse the power given to them to oppress the weak and harmless.”

This was truth. “Why are you telling me this?”

“To let you know that even if violence is the answer, it should not be wielded around carelessly, driven by rage.” Her eyes glittered, like there was gold amongst dirt there. “That people are always finding ways to lessen your pain even if they have to hurt you anyway. And you will not be exempt of that judgement.”

Kennyo did not growl fire like a dragon, but he whimpered like a whipped dog who did not know what he did wrong. “Violence is effective—”

“Violence is quick. It is not effective, nor is it efficient.” Reika exhaled, her breath fogging like the greyed lenses of the windows. “It is not as if I do not recognise what kind of monster Nobunaga is,” she said quietly. “But he is a kind of monster that can live with himself. He has gotten used to his claws and sharp teeth. You are…” She paused. “You are meant to be something else for this world.”

“I don't know how I can live as myself while other people are needlessly dying at the expense of my passivity.” He furrowed his brows, his anger spent at her rather naive way of looking at things.

Reika smiled, and it was the hint of something new, the smell of fern and lime and her eyes that did not shy away from his. A reckoning that started from a small stream. “I think you've forgotten. I am Reika, tsukumogami of the wisdom you seek.”

She took a green book from the shelves, and he'd recognised it before. She splayed the pages open and pushed it in front of him.

“Read.”

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen kennyo #ikesen writing #ikesen fanfic #commissions #ishikawa reika

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fragmentedink-archived · 5 years ago

Text

Hell to Pay: Part Eleven

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Trigger warnings for uhhhh smut, violence?? and I think thats it

Though Lev already knew this, he supposed no one could accuse Cameron of being stingy. The hotel Cameron had booked him was massive, and so was the entire damn suite Cameron had paid for him. Lev was frozen in the doorway, blinking owlishly at how much room there was. Lev was pretty sure the entirety of his old house could fit in here, and there’d still be space.

Eventually Cameron nudged him from behind. Lev skittered forward a few steps, tugging his bag behind him. “It’s very... big,” he finally said, still staring. And very high up. Lev made a mental note not to go too near the windows.

He turned back to Cameron. “You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”

Cameron glanced at his watch before he said, “Not right yet, no.”

Lev stifled his sigh of relief, and when Cameron moved to sit on the bed, Lev followed. He almost climbed up on the bed, but circled back to unpack his bag first. Behind him, he could hear Cameron on the phone. Food. Cameron was ordering food. Of course he was. Lev smoothed his hand over the last shirt he needed to put away, and then toed out of his shoes. Only then did he climb up on the bed beside Cameron, tucking his feet underneath him as Cameron turned on the TV.

After less than a moment of debate, Lev twisted, snagging one of the pillows. He wasn’t sure how to word his request, and so he just held it out to Cameron silently. After a moment, Cameron took the pillow and leaned back with it under his head. Satisfied, Lev curled up as close to Cameron as he dared.

By the time room service arrived, Lev was a lot more relaxed. If nothing else, the bed would hold Cameron’s scent, at least for a little while. Lev sat up only after Cameron did, knowing damn well he was pretty much hiding behind Cameron until the people delivering the food were gone.

Cameron looked unimpressed with Lev’s cowardice. “How exactly do you expect to eat for a week if you are afraid of showing your face to room service?”

Lev flushed, scooting away. “I dunno. I- I’ll figure it out.” He tried for a smile. “Or hide in the bathroom when they deliver the food.” He was joking. Sort of.

“That’s pathetic.”

Lev winced. “I was-” He gave up. “Yeah. I know. I’ve been told before.”

Cameron paused, clearly thinking, but when he spoke, he sounded a little exasperated. “Have a sentry order your food.”

Lev blinked. “That’s an option?” He blurted.

He definitely didn’t like the look Cameron gave him. “If you’re too much of a coward to do it yourself, it’s better you not starve.”

That cut deep. “I wouldn’t,” Lev said quietly. “You want me to eat, I’ll eat. I would have figured it out. I wasn’t going to just not.”

“You cannot go throughout life being afraid of everything that moves. Especially humans, when you are ten times stronger than the strongest of them.”

The smile that tugged at Lev’s mouth wasn’t real and he knew it. “If you’ve got a solution to being afraid, tell me, because I’ve tried for years. I don’t like how I am, Cameron. I hate it. People use my fear, against me and others, and I can’t figure out how not to be afraid. I’m trying. I’m just not good enough yet.”

“And how is hiding trying?”

Lev shrugged carefully. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Finally he said, “At least I didn’t crawl under the covers? I’d have preferred it.”

Cameron sighed, muttering, “Gods above,” as he got up. Lev watched him serve the food up, nibbling on his bottom lip.

Once Cameron returned, Lev took his plate without complaint. He could only stand the quiet for so long, though. “Do you think the sentries would play card games with me?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m sure if you asked they would. They're ordered to do as you ask.”

Lev hummed softly as he considered that. Had he been more like his cousin, the idea of a captive audience would have thrilled him. This was Lev, though, and so all he felt was a small twinge of guilt. “Okay,” he finally said, returning his attention to the food. He made it another few minutes before he said, “Does Mar know where to find me? I never did get my phone back, never seemed important before now, and- I dunno, she just never did bring me the stuff Gramma said she’d ask her to.”

“I’m not her keeper,” was all Cameron said.

Lev stifled a sigh. Perhaps he should have known better than to ask Cameron about her. He couldn’t imagine Cameron liking Amara at all. It was just a week, though. He could find a way to get ahold of her later.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, thank the stars. When Lev was done, Cameron took Lev’s plate wordlessly. Lev let him, because honestly, what else was he gonna do? Hold it for the rest of the night?

“Is it time for you to go?” Lev asked, scooting to the edge of the bed as Cameron got up.

Cameron gave his watch a quick look. “Yes.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lev swung his feet back and forth for a few heartbeats, and then stood. He went on his toes before he could stop himself, and pressed a kiss to Cameron’s cheek. “I’ll miss you?”

Cameron had looked stiff when Lev pulled away, and Lev certainly couldn’t decipher his expression. Lev was more than a little surprised when he got an awkward pat on the shoulder. “I’ll be checking the bill. Make sure you eat,” was all Cameron said to him. Lev nodded, a little afraid to say anything. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d gone for the kiss. Maybe to be brushed off. A pat on the shoulder wasn’t nothing from Cameron. Or maybe Lev was overthinking it.

By the time Lev got to that part, Cameron was already heading for the door. Cameron paused long enough to say, “I’ll be back for you when I can,” and then Lev was alone in the suite. The very large suite.

At least the bed would smell like Cameron.

---

Nik was sitting in his nest, staring out the window, counting down the seconds until the familiar jet black car pulled up into the driveway. He was unable to keep himself planted and nearly sprinted through the long halls and was at the front door by the time it opened.

Nik nearly threw himself into Cameron the moment he stepped foot inside, but barely held himself back out of sheer self preservation. Cameron’s pale eyes met his and it took every shred of control to not body slam him with a hug. But he couldn’t stop himself from whining. “What took you so long?”

Cameron gave him the most unimpressed look and started back down the hallway towards their bedroom. “I wasn’t gone for that long,” Cameron said, rolling up his sleeves. “I’d have assumed you could amuse yourself for an hour while I made sure Levant ate.”

“That’s what you get for assuming,” Nik muttered. He followed Cameron into the bedroom and sidled up next to him on the couch. “I was boooored and I couldn’t bug you or anyone else in this house because no one is here,” he whined, pressing his face in Cameron’s neck. “Mmm.”

He could feel Cameron’s pulse against his lips. “I wasn’t going to leave a bunch of demons in this house with you so close to your heat.”

“They’re your sentries, though. You literally hand picked them,” Nik mumbled, unable to stop himself from climbing in Cameron’s lap. “They’re loyal to you.”

Cameron’s sigh echoed through his chest. “They’re still demons, and you’re still an angel. They would literally eat you.” Cameron’s fingers laced in Nik’s hair and he yanked until Nik was looking down at him. “I do not feel like having an audience this week, so it’s just us.”

Nik felt a grin tug at his mouth. “Too bad. But I guess it’ll work.”

Cameron gave a vague snort and removed his hand from Nik’s hair. Nik took that as permission to bury his face back in Cameron’s pale neck. “You don’t care who hears you, do you? No, you get off on that,” Cameron said, faintly amused.

Nik pressed his teeth into Cameorn’s shoulder when he pried away a few buttons. “Look who’s talking. Like you’re any worse.”

“It is a privillage to hear me fuck anyone,” Cameron said, glibly. “And you know it from experience.”

Stars. Yes, he did.

Nik bit down hard enough to draw blood. Sometimes he wished his fangs were more like a demon’s; longer and sharper- and with two sets. But he just had the one set; small, sharp points. But that wasn’t going to stop him from biting Cam. Cameron arched his neck, giving Nik better access and he took that as permission to bite harder.

If he couldn’t get Cameron in him, then he was going to get the next best thing and get inside Cameron. Cam’s hand slipped slowly, skillfully up his thighs. His omega was liquid by now, the only thing he wanted was Cameron inside him but he couldn’t have that until tomorrow. Cam was making him wait for some damned reason. And the slick coating his thighs did little to clear his head and sense of deductive reasoning.

Nik melted into Cameron when he felt Cam’s finger press against his hole. He barely registered how he hooked his arms around Cameron’s neck and lifted his hips. His entire body was flushed and he was at the point where he was running more on instinct than conscious thought. And Cameron’s fingers inside him did not help clear his mind in the least.

Cameron was half hard beneath him, and the question was on the tip of his tongue, to ask why they didn’t just have sex. But he had gotten his answer hours before and he wasn’t going to push Cameron’s boundaries on the subject despite his omega wanting nothing more than to be filled. Cameron’s fingers were doing their job just fine judging by the near throbbing length between his legs.

Nik’s pants were smothered by his face in Cameron’s neck, Sweat slipped between his shoulder blades, his knees were pressed back into the couch. Nik jolted forward when Cameron’s fingers brushed against his prostate. He wasn’t able to stop the startled moan that he hadn’t had any intention of smothering anyways.

Cameron turned his head, fingers pressing deeper, lips brushing Nik’s shoulder. He could feel the sharp, lethal canines brushing his skin. The coolness of Cameron’s lips had Nik wanting to kiss him more than he had wanted to kiss Cameron ever before. His whine turned into another choked off moan when those canines sunk into his shoulder. He could feel the skin split apart, could feel the cool, wet warmth of Cameron’s mouth against his skin.

It made his cock twitch, and when Cameron’s fingers hit there again, Nik melted into Cameron unable to stop himself from shattering. Nik panted into Cameron’s shoulder, body unwound and pudding in Cam’s lap. He felt a slender hand brush up his back, and if he didn’t know better, he’d almost say that that was affection.

--------

“He’s in there,” Amara said with a jerk of her chin. It was a normal house on a normal block, if a bit of an expensive neighborhood. What she wouldn’t give to slip in and slit his neck and walk right back out again. But no, she’d said she’d only just help find him.

She tossed a coin in the air, caught it, and frowned down at it. Tails again.

“He’s staying alive,” Nate warned from beside her.

“We’ll see,” Amara retoreted sweetly.

“No. He is. And I will make sure of it.”

Amara hummed, flicking the coin in the air again. Maybe if she switched the outcomes. Tails, dead. Heads, she actually followed orders for once in her life. When she caught it, she huffed. Heads. Fine. So fate had other plans for him. She huffed again when Nate took the coin from her and tucked it away. “I’ll want that back when we’re done. Budget is tight enough as it is. That’s his minion’s house, by the way. Or, well, it’s Vehuel’s third house.” She wrinkled her nose. “Bastard wasn’t even hiding, really.”

Nate was already walking across the street by the time she was done complaining. Fair enough. She trotted after him. It was weird, this whole thing was weird. Working as part of a team was not usually something Amara did. Not for jobs like this. Though jobs like this usually ended in blood, deadly force or no. Perks of being sent after lowlives.

Whatever she expected, she didn’t expect Nate to just open the door and walk right in. She peered around him; Remiel had jumped to his feet, looking insulted. Like they had overstepped. Vehuel appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, and then looked like he very much wished he hadn’t.

Nate hadn’t stopped moving, though. Even Amara winced as Nate slammed Remiel’s head into the coffee table hard enough she heard the wood crack. Well damn. He’d be no fun to torture now. Not for a good while, anyways.

“As of now, I’m seizing your assets for harboring a fugitive,” Nate said in Vehuel’s direction, already pulling out his phone.

“Fugitive?” Vehuel demanded, his voice going up an octave.

Amara stuck her tongue out at him, and then nudged Remiel with the toe of her boot.

Nate didn’t even look over at him as he waited for who, Amara assumed was Bay, to pick up. “Don’t play stupid. It makes you look ugly,” was all he said to Vehuel.

Amara snorted softly as Vehuel spluttered into silence. “You sure he can’t be like, a little bit dead? You didn’t even break his nose,” she wheedled.

Nate ignored her, which was fair, seeing as she was a big fat liar. That nose was definitely broken. Instead, Nate was saying softly into the phone, “Hey. We got him. He’s alive, and we’re gonna bring him in.”

Definitely Bay. He sounded too affectionate - sappy, Amara thought with a face- to be talking to anyone else. “Now what. Tell me Bay’s at least gonna have his balls cut off.”

Nate smiled a bit. “That and a few other parts.”

“Still too good for him,” Amara muttered, but that was mostly for show. Nate was here, and she couldn’t do jack shit because of that. And that was probably why he was here. She had to tip her nonexistent hat to Bay. Out of all the angels he could have sent, Nate was the least likely one she’d fuck over. Being a genuine ass to Nate was like being cruel to Lev. Unthinkable. Annoyingly so.

“We're enacting his punishment and then what happens after Remiel leaves us, should he end up in Razya for some reason, is up to fate.”

Amara blinked. She pressed her lips together rather than smile. “I knew I liked you. For an angel.”

Nate’s eyes crinkled- that was annoying too. Wasn’t fair, how adorable he was. “Everyone likes me. It’s impossible to not.”

“What’s disgusting is that it’s true.” Amara frowned down at Remiel. “Let’s get this sack of shit out of here. I really want to watch what comes next.”

---

Nate dumped Remiel in the dungeons and made sure Amara was with him on the way back upstairs. As much as he liked her, he wouldn’t put it past her to kill Remiel despite knowing they needed him alive. And as much as he really wouldn’t care, it would only make his mate upset.

And that was unacceptable.

Nate took them back to his bedroom where Baylor was still bedridden. Nate had his hand on the doorknob when he looked over his shoulder at Amara. “Are you going to behave? If you can’t you’re staying out here.”

“I’ll do my best to not upset the pregnant omega too much,” Amara said, “but I never behave.”

Nate leveled a stern look with her. “He is on bedrest for a reason, Amara. Do not pick fights with him. He already almost went into labor once.” And that was already one time too many. The ghost of Cameron’s nose breaking on Nate’s knuckles was still so satisfying.

“Is friendly bickering allowed? Banter is my love language,” she said. “I’m being serious. Sort of.”

Nate sketched a brow. “Have you ever known him to bicker friendly,” he said. “Just- keep it to a minimum, okay?” She just shrugged. Rolling his eyes Nate pushed open the door and led her inside. The pillows on the couch were still there from when he woke up that morning. Nate couldn’t stop himself from going over to the bed and touching Baylor’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake. “Hey,” he said, softly.

Nate stepped back the moment he saw the hand under the pillow. Baylor nearly had a knife pulled when he realized it was just him. The fight unwound instantly in Baylor’s shoulders as he sat up and palmed his eyes. Nate handed him his glasses. “Sorry for waking you.”

Baylor waved him off and looked around the room while trying to smooth out his hair. Nate bit back his smile at the annoyed crease between his brows. It was difficult to get that hair to cooperate with him on a good day. He frowned at Amara. “You didn’t kill him, did you.”

Amara pouted. “Nate wouldn’t let me.”

Baylor rolled his eyes towards him. His frown deepened when he looked at the blood splattered across Nate’s body. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Nah, I figured I’d let fate intervene for me.”

Baylor shook his head and scrubbed his face. “‘Fate’,” he muttered. “What horseshit.” Nate snorted. Despite their talk beforehand about what to do with Remiel, Nate still found he was still tempted to just take care of him himself. He had heard the rumors from Raziel, and he’d have no qualms. But it wasn’t his kill.

Technically, it would be Lev’s, he guessed. But Nate highly doubted he would even be consulted in the decision. Which. Fair. Lev likely would have let Remiel get away with his own murder.

“Is any of that blood yours?” Baylor asked, sharply, hand resting on his belly. When Nate shook his head, his mate visibly relaxed.

“I slammed his face into a table. Faces bleed a lot,” Nate said, sitting on the bed.

“Your boy knocked him out in one hit,” Amara said, admirably.

Nate almost didn’t catch the way Baylor’s mouth tugged. He took that as an opening to lean forward and lightly kiss his mate’s belly. He deserved it. “He’s just waiting for your judgement,” Nate said, lifting his head to look up at him. “Just say what and when.”

Baylor’s eyes shuttered, and he leaned back against the pillows. The slight bruising under his light eyes suggested he hadn’t gotten as much sleep as he pretended otherwise. Nate choked back any response of rest that he could possibly think of. His mate was trying and this whole ordeal with Remiel and the others only made things that much more pressing.

Baylor scrubbed his face and sighed. “What is the usual punishment for this?”

“Well,” Nate said, sitting up. “Before, if an angel was caught sleeping with a demon, they would have been executed- or at the very least dewinged and cast out.” Unless said angel were him or Nik; neither of had cared about the war enough to hinder who they chose to sleep with. “Anyone that had done the killing, before said angel being brought in for trial, would have been penalized, but not to that high of extent.”

Baylor’s face twisted in disgust. It wasn’t hard for Nate to be reminded that Baylor hadn’t been in his world for all that long in the grand scheme of things. Baylor seemed to think on it, though, remembering Nate telling him about Remiel and Lev. “Dewing him, castrate him, and brand him,” Baylor said, tiredly. “No one is to help him at all. If they do, they will be penalized.” He looked at Amara. “That’s probably not enough, but I think in the end it will not matter.” There was definitely a small smile tugging at Baylor’s mouth.

“It’s a start,” she said. “I could have done all this and saved you the trouble. You really shouldn’t be stressing over this.”

Baylor’s mouth tightened and his ears flushed gold. “It’s my job. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”

You’re on bedrest, Nate thought, stubbornly. By definition, that means you can’t do your job.

He refrained from saying that, if only because he knew Baylor would rip into him for it. Amara didn’t seem fazed in the least. “Didn’t say you couldn’t,” she said. “Just that you shouldn’t. He’s my cousin. My kin, my problem.”

“I think you have forgotten how very little I generally care about familial ties,” Baylor said, flatly.

“Yeah, well, you’re a little fucked up, Bay.”

“Says the alcoholic.”

She waved him off. “Never said I didn’t have my own issues, buddy.”

Baylor’s eyes narrowed at her dismissive tone. “Yes. Well. How about you deal with your own shit before coming after mine. And don’t call me that, I have a name and I am not your friend.”

The sharpening tone in his mate’s voice had Nate getting up from the bed despite Amara’s hands raising in surrender. “Right,” Nate said. “Well, Amara and I are going to go… ah. Deal with this.” He quickly pressed a kiss to the top of Baylor’s head. “Go back to sleep, yeah?”

Baylor glowered up at him, but slowly took his glasses off and snuggled back into the bed, completely dismissing them both as he yanked the blanket over his head. “Get out.”

Before Amara could say anything, Nate ushered her out of the room and shut the door softly behind them. “Well. That went better than I thought it would. Let’s get this over with.”

He was more than ready to wash his hands of this whole ordeal.

---

Lev supposed he should get something to eat. He’d been sitting on the bed for hours, and he was starting to get hungry. Cameron’d told him to eat, and he’d promised he would. The hard part was working up the courage. A phone had never looked more intimidating. Was there even a menu somewhere? Lev didn’t see one.

Cameron had offered him an out, though. Not that it felt like much of a better choice. Lev didn’t talk to the sentries Cameron employed if he could help it. They all seemed so... stiff. Formal, maybe, was the word he was looking for.

Whatever it was, they never made him feel comfortable.

Of course, the longer he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. Cameron wanted him to eat and he was pacing between the bed and the door. It was pathetic. Cameron was right to call him that. Was it pathetic, then, to ask for help? Maybe.

But if that was how he got food, then at least he was eating. Cameron wouldn’t have offered it to him if he didn’t intend it as an actual option. So he opened the door and poked his head out. "Can one of you help me order something to eat?"

His answer was the closer sentry moving toward him. Lev skittered back, realizing only after that the sentry would have to come inside to order something for him. He flushed, looking down with a quick, “Sorry.”

They didn’t even give him a second glance as they walked inside. “What do you want?” The sentry asked, already dialing.

“Pasta?” Lev said hesitantly.

“What kind?”

Oh. Lev hadn’t thought that far. He blinked, and then blinked again. “Alfredo?” He finally said hesitantly. “If they can make it?”

All he got was a nod, and the sentry went back to ordering for him. As soon as the food was ordered, the sentry left. Lev dithered about after they were gone, and ended up crawling onto the bed. He buried his face in the pillow Cameron had used, rubbing his face against it.

By the time the food arrived, Lev was close to dozing off. At least he didn’t dive under the covers when it did. He held the pillow to his chest, a soft fluffy shield against the world until he was alone again. Only then did he unfold from the bed and drag a plate over to nibble on.

At least he was eating.

----

Nik’s entire body was burning before he even opened his eyes. The only thing running through his head was ‘need’. He needed to be cool, he needed to be filled despite already having a plug, he needed this scratchy shirt off him, he needed-

Nik forced his eyes open and sidled up next to Cameron, who’s white hair was still in front of his closed eyes.

If he had been less aware of the emptiness that filled him, or the painful hardness between his legs he might have been more conscientious of the threat to his life in trying to wake Cameron up by pressing up against him like this. “Cam?” he murmured, unable to stop himself from pressing his face in Cameron’s bare shoulder. “Cameron.”

Cameron jerked back so fast Nik didn’t have time to react to the claws around his throat or the unseeing expression etched in Cameron’s eyes. Nik blinked quickly and tried to not move. Despite the coolness of Cameron’s skin around his throat, despite this alpha being his, his omega stilled at the presence of a threat. “Cam,’ he said, weakly. “It’s me.”

Cameron stared hard at him, pale gaze fixed on Nik’s flushed face. It took a moment for recognition to kick in before slowly removing his hand, eyes trailing down the rest of him. “Oh.”

He couldn’t even get out his ‘please’ when Cameron was already moving towards him. Cool hands went to tug off the shirt that was sticking to his frame from sweat. Cameron tossed the shirt onto the floor beside the large bed before pressing Nik down onto his back.

Cameron’s cool hands slipped down Nik’s shoulders, his sides, down to his legs to wrench them apart and he settled between them. He could barely stop himself from wiggling impatiently beneath him, from whining.

But Cameron was already working himself up to full hardness with a professional efficiency that made Nik blink. But the hand moving from his thigh to his ass to remove the plug choked off any questions that Nik could form.

The cool face pressed against his throat did little to alleviate the heat radiating through his body or the tightness sitting in his belly. Nik hooked his arms around Cameron’s neck and tugged him down against him to get as much of that cool skin touching his as he could.

He could feel Cameron’s fangs against the racing pulse in his throat, lightly brushing against his skin before sinking down so deep, Nik welcomed the split skin. His groan of pain was nothing compared to the desperate ache he felt when the plug was removed. Cam’s fingers replaced the plug before Nik could whine at the loss of being filled, his fangs still buried in Nik’s throat.

The sweet Omega in Heat smell burned through his nose, and Cameron was filling him. Nik closed his eyes at the first inch and he hooked his leg around Cameron, trying to get him in deeper, harder, faster, but Cameron buried his fingers in Nik’s hip and pinned him back against the bed to immobilize him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” was all Cameron said, against Nik’s throat. The pure alpha command in Cam’s voice had Nik going pliant altogether, but it didn’t stop him from whining. Cameron bit at his shoulder in warning. “You have a week of this and I am not going to take care of you if you injure yourself before we are even half way in.”

Cameron grunted at how hard Nik’s nails bit into his shoulders. He couldn’t move his hips, but he could damn well move his shoulders. “Just. Fuck me.” His voice sounded so pathetic even if his own ears. “Fuck-” his words were choked off by the hard roll of Cameron’s hips against his. His head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering. Right- Cameron was. He was right.

Nik only had the chance to blink when Cameron grabbed his jaw to force him to look up at him. A heartbeat later Cameron’s mouth was on his, his deft tongue slipping between Nik’s chapped lips. Nik was trembling so bad, his mind an absolute mess when he kissed him back. The way Cameron was fucking into him had Nik coming almost embarassingly fast.

But he was still so damn hard, and Cam kept going. The kiss tasted sweet despite the coppery taste on Cameron’s tongue. He kissed Nik with a skill that almost surprised him; he wasn’t sure why he was surprised at all. Cameron chased kisses from his lips to his jaw to his neck, a trail of coolness ghosting his lips. Nik’s nails were indenting Cam’s back and if he hadn’t been more concerned with being filled, with having his alpha’s scent covering him, he’d worry about hurting him.

------

Hooking his fingers into the headboard, Cameron didn’t meet Nik’s dark eyes as he kissed Nik on the mouth again. He couldn’t stop the warning growl in his throat when Nik’s heel pressed deeper into the small of Cameron’s back, lacing a sharp pain up his back into his shoulders. But Nik’s heel froze in place, then moved down beneath his ass.

The pain slowly dissipated and all Cameron could feel was heat, heat from Nik. Nik’s golden brown flushed body hot against his, and was like a heated vice around his cock. Despite Nik’s nails still in his back, Cameron kept fucking into him, kept kissing him. It was easier than he expected- muscle memory- to fall back into this role, to let muscle memory dictate his movements.

Though this feeling was different with Nik than it was with someone who had bought him for the week for some reason. It didn’t make sense to Cameron. People felt the same, it was the same mechanics, the same movements. But it was inconsequential; it didn’t matter.

Nik was looking up at him from beneath the locks of his damp blue and black hair, pupils blown out and irises near black. But the framing of his eyelashes only made them darker. Cameron tore his gaze away and pressed his lips to Nik’s throat. The bite from earlier was healing already thanks to Nik’s angelic bloodline, and the sandalwood and ocean scent mixed with Nik’s heat had a thought running through his head. To bite harder, to make it permanent. Nik had a permanent bite, hell, he probably had a few, but it wasn’t a claimed bite- a bond mark.

He hadn’t marked Nik like that, and he usually didn’t want to mark Nik like that. Nik was his, but that Mark would tie Nik to him completely and completely and permanently. To some, that might as well be a marriage. But right now, it was the only thing running through his alpha’s mind. The bite, the claim. To take complete ownership of this omega.

Ducking his head away from Nik’s skin, his scent, Cameron forced himself to think past his aching teeth and to do this job. But the way Nik was moaning and whimpering as Cameron rocked into him, the smell of pure want on his omega did not do any damn favors for him or his control either.

Nik whimpered against his shoulder when he came again. But he was still so hard and he buried his face against Cam’s neck. He ran his fingers down Nik’s bare sides, and was unable to stop himself from pressing his fangs into Nik’s bare shoulder. Not a bond mark; he had enough common sense- and restraint- to not mark an omega in heat like that. Let alone an omega he lived with.

Cam could feel his knot forming and Nik reacted; he tried pulling Cameron into him even more, as if he could meld Cameron into his skin. “Knot?” Nik mumbled against his neck. “I want your knot.”

“I know,” he said, against Nik’s hair. Cameron gripped Nik’s arms and pinned Nik’s wrists above their heads, to get those damn nails out of his back. “I know.” The almost hazy, desperate glint in Nik’s eyes had Cam moving his hips faster, harder until his knot was catching.

Cameron bit into Nik’s shoulder as his own release barreled out of him. Melting into Nik, Cameron panted, letting his blood come back up to his brain and air return to his lungs. Nik’s breath started evening out and Cam made himself look down at him; there was a bit of clarity, of Nik in his eyes again. Cameron brushed his hand through Nik’s blue and black hair, pulling the damp strands out of his face. “Better?”

Nik only gave him a vague nod and ducked his face between Cameron’s neck and shoulder. But the time he was able to pull out, Nik was a little bit more himself and his skin wasn’t as feverish. Though Cameron knew that it wasn't going to last long. The between cycles were a pain in his ass, and he hated that part of the heat more than anything else.

Nik had curled on his side when Cameron climbed out of the bed to get a rag to clean them both off. Nik barely moved when Cameron cleaned him off, the thin sheen of sweat coating Nik’s tattooed body shimmered against the morning sun.

Cameron grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge in the closet and a granola bar and brought them back to Nik. He threaded his fingers in Nik’s hair and tugged so he was looking up at him. “You need to eat,” he said. “Get your strength saved up.”

Nik blinked blankly at him, eyes going to the food in his extended hand. He barely shook his head at all when he registered what Cameron was offering him. “Don’t want to,” he mumbled. “Not hungry.”

“I want you to eat,” Cameron said, throwing the full force of an alpha into his voice. “It will make me happy.” Nik blinked blearily and looked at the bar with disdain before reluctantly taking the unwrapped bar and took a small bite. When Nik tried handing it back, Cameron pushed it towards him. “Two more bites. For me.”

Getting an omega to do what he wanted during their heat was easy; they were hardwired to obey and even Nik was going to do what he was told with little fight. Nik made a face but took another bite, and then another before Cameron handed him the bottle of water. “Hydrate.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Nik half whined, pressing his face into the pillow.

“Yes you are,” Cameron said. “Just one large drink then you can sleep until your next heat cycle starts.”

“I don’t want to.”

Cameron bit back his irritation. “Do you want to disappoint me?”

Nik stiffened slightly and looked up at him. “Do I have to.”

“Yes.”

Nik’s shoulders slumped and he grabbed the bottle of water before struggling into a sitting position. He muttered in spanish while trying to untwist the bottle. “Fine.” When he couldn’t get it, he thrust the bottle out for Cameron to open. “You want me to drink? You open.”

Cameron grabbed it and twisted it off easily before giving it back to him. “Now drink.”

Nik’s brows flattened and he brought it to his lips and took a drink. Cameron stared him down until half the bottle was empty. When Cameron took it back, Nik promptly laid back down and curled up with his face in the pillow.

When Cameron came back to crawl into bed, Nik moved almost instantly to press up against him, Cameron bit back his sigh and let Nik put his head on his chest and close his eyes. Five more days of this then he can get Nik back.

----

It was only two minutes since the last time Lev had checked the time, but he was bored, and he really had thought the single book he brought would last longer. Daytime television held no interest for Lev, and he’d refolded his clothes three separate times, and took a bath just to have something to do. That was over an hour ago, and Lev was now sprawled on the bed, staring at the headboard as if it had any solutions.

He kicked up his feet, crossing his ankles in the air. There really was nothing to do. Lev dropped his face against his pillow and groaned softly. He could have, maybe, possibly, gone down to the pool. Surely this hotel had a pool. It was a very large hotel, and seemed very expensive, so it’d only make sense that they’d have a pool.

If only Lev wasn’t a coward. He was not leaving this room unless he had to until Cameron came back to get him. Even if that meant spending a week pacing this massive suite, poking in corners and trying to find something, anything, to distract himself from the fact that he was still a skittish, useless, injured angel left alone.

Maybe he could build a pillow fort in the corner and call it a day.

Eventually he pushed himself up. Cameron had said the sentries had to do what he asked. He felt bad, distracting them from their jobs, but he definitely was desperate enough for a distraction that he figured one card game wouldn’t hurt.

With that in mind, Lev shuffled to the door. He definitely felt ridiculous, and was certain that the sentries would think he was too. The thought was almost enough that he nearly stopped before opening the door. Almost. He really was bored, though, and restless, and he didn’t want to be alone, even if he didn’t really know the sentries at all

He eased open the door. It took more than one hesitant breath before Lev managed to say, “Could you- if it’s alright- I have cards?” He blinked. “Would you like to play cards?”

All three exchanged looks. Lev backed up in case they decided to, and then turned away so he could go grab the pack of cards. He was sure they wouldn’t take him up on his awkward offer, request, whatever, but when he turned back around, two of them had stepped inside.

Lev debated the merits of the bed verses the floor. Realizing he would not want their scents in the bed he had to sleep in, he settled carefully onto the floor. Once there, he began opening the pack slowly, flicking the sentries a look.

They sat down with him, though, and even if Lev was sure their stoic expressions were more their training than not finding his awkward shuffling skills amusing, at least he managed to start dealing without dropping them.

At least he wasn’t alone. He just hoped they didn’t mind he only knew how to play Go Fish.

---

Nik woke up to the feel of a heartbeat against his cheek. He felt clear headed enough to remember where he was, to know not to move too much. His cheeks were still flushed, but he knew he was near the end of his heat, thank the stars. He carefully unhooked himself from Cameron and climbed from the bed. Cameron stifled a pained groan but didn’t wake.

Nik could only wonder if he had hurt Cameron. Most of the last week was… foggy at best but Nik could imagine that he hadn’t been all too easy on the poor bastard. He padded off into the bathroom and took a cool shower to wake himself up some more, and to get this gross feeling off himself.

He showered well until the water ran cold before it forced him out. He was still too sensitive to put on clothes so he patted himself dry with a towel before toeing back into the room. But it was for nothing; Cameron was already awake and sitting on the edge of the bed stiff as a board. From where Nik was he could see the bruising dipping down his back. Guilt stung at him but he tried shoving it away and went further into the room. “Hey.”

“Oh thank gods, you’re normal again,” Cameron muttered, eyeing him with scrutiny.

“Speak for yourself, I have never been ‘normal’,” Nik said, stopping in front of him. “It’s overrated and boring, and I am not boring.” “No,” he agreed. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

Nik grinned sharply. “Yeah I am.” Cameron didn’t seem moved with his agreement, and a frown tugged at his mouth when Nik settled between his legs. He brushed his hands up Cameron’s thighs and looked up at him. “Let me take care of you?”

Cameron blinked blankly. “Why, it’s not your job.”

Nik bit back as much irritation as he could. And he let it go. “I want to take care of you,” he said. “It’s still technically my heat, yeah? I want to take care of my alpha like he had taken care of me all week.”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed. “‘Your alpha?’”

“Is that not what you are? You said I was your omega.”

Cameron didn’t say anything for long enough, Nik was starting to think he fucked up, but then Cameron lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “Do what you want,” he said with a neutralness that made Nik sigh internally. But it was consent enough for him when he knew Cameron would flat out tell him to fuck off if he didn’t want him to.

Nik turned his focus from the pale gaze pinned on him down to the cock sitting between Cameron’s legs. There was something about taking a cock in his mouth that made himself so damn hard; honestly it was probably because he was damn good at this’ drawing out all the right sounds and feelings from this very, very difficult male.

Nik took Cameron’s cock into his hand while he leaned up and kissed Cameron’s neck. The faint arousal mixed with Cam’s usual scent filled his nose, head turning into Nik’s as his teeth pressed into Cameron’s neck. Not hard enough to bite down, but just enough to get a slight jolt from him.

Nik couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You can do that without talking,” Cameron said, glibly.

“Can I though?”

Cam seceded, “No, probably not. But getting my cock in your mouth is a good way to shut you up.”

Nik bit back his snort and kissed Cameron’s shoulder, his chest, worked his way down to the hardened cock still in his hand. Nik stroked him once more, feeling his mouth water in anticipation to get it around Cam, to taste him.

Cameron’s fingers lacing in NIk’s hair only propelled him forward. He had one goal in front of him, to take his cock into his mouth and taste it, to feel and choke on it. Not that he would when he hadn’t had a gag reflex in years, but the thought was nice.

Nik took him into his mouth when he felt the sharp, impatient tug at his hair. The heavy weight, the taste was just as good as always. Cameron’s soft moan above him only made him take him further into his mouth, his own moan in his throat.

Nik flicked his tongue over the head of Cameron’s cock, drawing a hiss of approval from the alpha. His omega was pleased, glad and was eager to keep going, to draw as many sounds from Cam as possible. Cameron pushed his hips into Nik, unable to help himself, even if Nik could feel how hard he tried to not flinch. He wasn't sure just… how much pain Cameron was in, but the adrenaline of the last few days were keeping him upright, it would seen.

All Nik could feel was sensation: the hand in his hair, the cock in his mouth, the heat of Cameron’s naked body radiating against his. The way Cameron’s nails lightly traced down Nik’s neck and back only made his own arousal that much more intense. But he forced himself to not react, to not give in. He didn’t… he didn’t want Cameron to think he needed to take care of him when that was what he was trying to do for Cameron.

A sharp jerk of Cameron’s hand, a twitch of his hips had Cameron spilling into his mouth and throat. Nik swallowed each and every drop greedily and sucked him dry. When Nik pulled back he was drawing air into his lungs as deeply as possible as he stared up into Cam’s blown out eyes. The pure blackness of his pupils was such a stark contrast to literally any other part of him.

“You’re welcome,” was all Cameron said.

---

Lev frowned at the pile of pillows. It was disappointingly small. The bed was large, sure, so he had, what, four? Five? And that was not enough. It simply was not. Lev hauled them over to the corner anyway, and then a chair. He put the chair across from the bedside table, before huffing. There was no way to keep whatever blanket he chose to be his ceiling would stay up on the wall. With that in mind he retrieved another chair, settling it so that it faced the wall. Good enough.

There weren’t enough pillows though.

After giving one of them a sullen kick, he circled to the bed and pulled the throw blanket off. He dragged that over, draping it on one of the chairs before he spun on his heel and tracked back to the door. For once he didn’t hesitate to stick his head out into the hall.

“I don’t have enough pillows. Could one of you get me some more?” He asked, deliberately not making eye contact. “And- and blankets? Oh, and clothes pins.”

Not bothering to wait until they responded, he ducked back inside, locking the door behind him. By the time he finished fussing with the pillows and finding a second blanket in the closet, there was a knock on the door. Lev scrambled to answer, only opening the door long enough to take the supplies he’d requested.

“Can- I need- is there more?” He asked. “Pillows. Blankets are fine. More pillows. Thank you.”

And then he shut the door in their face. He piled the pillows carefully, and then started stringing blankets between the chairs and the bedside table. He used the clothespins to pin them in place. While he waited for the rest of the pillows, he found a channel on the tv dedicated to music. Any music, he didn’t really care.

This time he took the pillows, and simply said, “I need more, please.” He almost left it at that, but as he was shutting the door, he paused. “And drawing stuff? If you can find some.”

He didn’t really need more, he realized, as he settled these in his little fort, but they certainly wouldn’t hurt. It was practically a sea of pillows already, but Lev wanted to be comfy, and there was no way to have too much comfy.

When he heard a knock on the door, Lev scrambled to his feet. Once again he barely opened the door to take everything that had been retrieved for him. “I- one last thing?” he said hesitantly. “I- here let me- I’ll be right back.”

He pushed the pillows into his little fortress, setting his drawing supplies down right outside before he skittered over to snag the phone from the phone jack. He leaned out the door one last time.

“I- can you order me like- snack stuff. Cheese and- grapes? Berries? Crackers. Easy stuff. Please? I’m sorry. Thank you. Don’t let them come in here. Please. Thank- thank you.”

He retreated abruptly, all but diving into his pile of pillows. He dragged his paper and pencils in with him. Until the food got here, he wasn’t going to move from his little safe haven.

tagging: @idreamonpaper @livvywrites @incandescent-creativity @firesidefantasy @halstudies @solangelo3088

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers on wattpad #wip boost #hell to pay #cameron and nik and lev #ch: cameron #ch: nik #lev #my writing #original work

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hananario-oh · 6 years ago

Text

Soulless soul mates- felix volturi.

So was feeling the mood for a little fanfic but couldn't find one that hit the spot. So I made one 😁 enjoy! Also. It might get a little dark.

The flames of the fire danced high. Much higher than they needed to be. Not that they were needed at all. The bitter cold of the winter night air didn't compare to the coldness of our skin, nor did the scorching heat of the fire warm us. Long gone were the days it was needed for either of us.

That was the problem. I felt bitter and angry, once again the rage started to build.

They had no right! HE had no right!

It should have been my choice. No one should have been allowed to make that call, to say how my life would end or continue. Especially not like this.

I looked at my hands in my lap. The darkness of the night was deep, any and all moonlight blocked by the mountain side and the trees. The fire though big did nothing but light the immediate area. Shadows cast around me and the smoke went higher still. Yet unnaturally so, I saw everything. In details hard to imagine.

Every line in my skin. Every dent and scare. Every finger print with marks intertwined so little I never would have known they were there. Nothing escaped my sight, a world of billions upon billions of tiny details to take in and yet, I couldn't bring myself to focus. To even truly take it in and marvel in it.

The thirst stopped me.

God. The thirst!

Even now the burning ebbed and flowed, scratching and crawling inside my throat like a trapped cat. In the middle of nowhere my body ached to search for a cure.

Blood.

The fibres of my body nearly jumped excitedly at the thought of it yet my mind screamed. Disgusted and horrified with the monster my body had become. A battle I was never willing to be a part of was raging on inside of me. Making me question and fight each moment and movement I took.

My hands clenched, a wave of desire falling on me. Strong and demanding it felt like it took my breath away, if I had need to take one.

The feeling in my throat grew stronger, unimaginably so. It did not go unnoticed.

Felix straightened where he sat on the other side of the fire. Through the flames I could see him. His face pale but eyes red as blood. For obvious reasons.

I drew in an unneeded breath to help fight the next wave of desire brought on by making the connection to blood. Even the thought was enough to double the thirst. It was burning! Stabbing and growing! God!

In the background of feelings I felt the ripping sting of my own nails dig into my trousers, going through and gouging out skin. Nothing, compared to the thirst though. Nothing would ever compare. I just had to fight it.

"Stop! Your hurting yourself! For the love of whatever god is real just give in and drink the blood!"

Fighting the wave of desire to follow that order and end this, I opened my eyes. Not even aware I had shut them. He stood, hands clenched like mine but in anger and disparity. The already terrifyingly stern look he wore on his face had become murderous. His size only adding to the intimidating stance he projected towards me. Perhaps if I were weaker. It would have been enough to break me fully. But no. I had a fight to win, it was all I had left to fight for. I wasn't letting them take this choice from me like the others.

"No."

Though the pain left my teeth clenched, there was a smidgen of pride at how defiant I had sounded. More than I had expected of myself.

More than he had expected too. The defiance not sitting well, felix snapped.

His yell caught me off guard, the loudness of it sending a shock wave of sound throughout the forest. Birds that would normally be nested at night took flight. The whirlwind of sounds attacking my ears. In the far distance, deer scattered. A whole heard. Each one letting off a thunderstorm of hoofs hitting ground. Heart beats racing... Blood.

But not the blood I need.

Looking up, I caught the moment felix kicked, sending the log he had been sitting on before flying back into the tree's. Snow from on top fell, a glorious sight to watch in detail.

The burn dimmed. A rare moment of manageability a welcome relief. Felix stood like a god. Angry and strong. The flames in front of him while the snow fell behind, it went well with his unnatural beauty. Like some scene from the bible. A truly stunning sight yet my brain stumbled. Caught between desire for how handsome he was and shock. The connection between him and the devil had been made before but now the image matched. Now it felt real.

He ran a hand through his hair, recently cut short, leaving it ruffled.

"Drink." His voice now no more than a whisper still reached me loudly. This hearing change was yet another nightmare I hated that they had counted as a blessing.

Shaking my head. The scratching started to build again. I wanted to scream in annoyance.

"No."

Felix threw his had back. The muscles tense in his neck as he tried to keep his temper. Something he wasn't well known to even try.

"Drink. You can't go on like this. Drink it!"

The tension in his body was clear. This was a man who used his strength to get what he wanted. To be faced with a problem that brutal force could not fix, still normally ended in brutal force. I was pushing boundaries with him he hadn't had to face in his vampire life.

"N-no."

Another wave hit me, melting my strength and breaking my voice. I suppose I knew I would not be able to appear strong for long, but the defense I built felt damaged.

Weakness had been shown.

And it had been caught.

"Damn it, Amelia! You can't win this! You can't fight this! All you do is grow yourself weak and anger the masters!"

He gestured with his hand towards the city. Towards the bastards he held in such high regard that had both ended and ruined my life all in the name of a so called gift that I never even had in the end.

I had no doubt that if it was not for the so called soul mate that stood so angrily in front of me I would have met my second and very final ending not long after I woke to this nightmare. Perhaps I would have preferred it.

I shook my head, feeling tired and angry and weak and thirsty and everything else that was swirling in the mix of vile emotions. Its not like he got this. He enjoyed being this monster. He didn't even try to fight it.

"Felix, you don't understand. I-"

"NO! You, don't understand! From the moment we met this was it. This, is what you had coming. I won't let you die. I won't let you leave me, nor will the rest of the volturi. This is the only option you have so please, stop fighting it! Because this," he said pointing to the bodies of the dead animals I cast aside after drinking their blood in hopes of getting rid of the burn, "this won't work. It won't make it go away. It will keep you going but day after day that burn will be there! And this," he pointed to the path of broken and fallen trees I had taken down while blinded by the burn. A mistake even I admit. "this cannot go on! People will notice this Amelia and it's my job to make sure that vampires that do this disappear and I can't let that happen. So drink and come with me. This ends now!"

I shook my head in defiance. I knew he had valid points. I was making a mess and the burn wouldn't go, but I knew there were people out there, like me, that didnt want to kill people. That saw those who did as monsters. That fought the burn and got used to it. I could do it if I didn't have them holding me back. I had to.

"No. I refuse to. End of."

I had made it this far. Sixty something days. I could do it.

From Felixs' side the tension eased, only to be replaced with something else. Regret.

For a stupid but blissful moment, I thought he understood. That he knew I was never a person for this world, for this life and this sin. It really was a stupid moment.

"Then we do this the hard way."

My shoulders tensed. In the distance I heard the one voice I had really grown to hate. The high and mighty brat like attitude of Jane followed with it.

"Pitty. I was enjoying watching her break."

Before I could stand and make a break for it there were strong powerful arms trapping me. Wrapped around me like snakes, it was all I could do but thrash my legs about and yell.

"Let me go! Why the hell are you doing this to me! LET GO!"

Looking up, Demetri stared ahead to Felix, avoiding my pleading eyes. It was true I had attempted to make friends with him before I ran. My hopes were to have someone level headed and smart on my side to understand that I had a choice, to help the others understand. Yet here we were, he was helping them take that choice away. I could hardly handle the level of frustration that caused inside of me.

"STOP! WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING STO-"

The words got stuck in my throat, caught up in the burn that suddenly sprung to life. I could hear it, feel it, taste it! In the distance, getting closer. The erratic rhythmic thump thump. The flow of the thick liquid inside veins. The rapid breathing of fear. They stunk of it. A human. My meal.

The hard way.

No. No they can't!

"Don't do this! Stop! Felix stop this! Please!"

The burn was wild. I could taste the scent of the blood my body was so desperately craving. I could hear it and God if I so much as looked I bet I could see it. My fingers digged into Demetri's arms. I was sure he felt it but not once did he show any signs.

I knew he would be near, I figured he tracked me, but never did I think he would do this. Be a part of it. I really couldn't trust any of them.

My head was almost spinning by the time they'd brought them near. The blood flowing in their veins sounded like a river. Violently flowing to the sound of a beating heart. Closing my eyes did little to help but I couldn't look at them. I couldn't see the fear in their eyes. I knew it. Only so long ago the same fear was in my eyes as I thought I was meeting the same fate.

Yet the thirst made me want to. Made me want to be the monster they said I was.

"Felix pl-please! Stop. Please! Why won't you just leave me alone!"

I shook my head, despite my thirst I locked onto Felixs eyes. He couldn't do this. He had to see what he was doing to me. This wasn't love. This wasn't soul mates. If he loved me the way he claimed he couldn't stand by and let this happen!

"Felix please! Stop this! Please! FELIX!" I felt a tear slide down my cheek. I didn't even know I was still capable of such acts. He watched the tear fall, a frown in place of the smile I once thought I could eventually come to love. His eyes drifted to mine but he averted them quickly, head shaking as he looked away.

"I am sorry Amelia, you have to drink."

In front of me, Jane blocked my view of him. Her eyes looked as bored and mundane as normal. Like this was nothing but an annoying task that blocked her fun. Like she didn't secretly find pleasure in this like I knew she did. The bitch loved this and I knew it, she was even more sick and twisted than her brother! Her hand shot up in a silencing motion, as if I would listen to her.

"Enough! We've given you more than enough chances to accept our way of life and you seem insistent to avoid it. Know this Amelia, you have been shown more kindness and patience than I will ever understand from Master Aro, yet you defy even the simpler orders given. That patience has worn thin. Master Caius has ordered that an end be put to it tonight and so tonight it shall. Enjoy your meal. He smells delicious."

Before I could even protest or fight, the warmth and softness of skin was forced over my mouth. Instantly and despite my fight, the last shreds of my will power crumbled.

In a moment that I will never forgive myself for I took in the scent. The copper like sweetness of it danced down my throat, both igniting and partially soothing the ache, making my body lunge towards it.

It felt like liquid gold, water on fire and rest from a good sleep all at the same time. Instantly sore muscles felt better. The entire blanket of problems that accompanied the thirst was gone. I could feel it flow, quickly at first but then slower, weaker and colder. Eventually I had to draw it out. No longer did it flow freely.

I tried and tried to pull as much out as I could. It wasn't enough but the burn was gone. Eventually there was no more and my eyes opened. I hadn't even closed them knowingly, the bliss of relief doing so in the moment.

The moment which was no over.

Demetri was gone. So too alec if he had been here. Backing away Jane grinned like the cat that got the cream.

"Master Caius will be pleased."

And then gone too was Jane.

Left was only myself and Felix. The body of the dead man I had ended rested in my lap. My arms shakily lowered him to the flow away from me. My eyes couldn't leave his neck. The bite mark so clear that it almost over shadowed the tattoo. But I saw.

Manda and Bethan Daddy's little girls

I stood and turned away. There was a horrible numbness I had never felt before. I was a monster now. I was as bad as them. I had enjoyed it.

As if he hadn't made it worse enough, Felix placed his hand around my waste. Like it brought comfort and enjoyment. As if he deserved it.

"It had to be done. Next time will be easier. I promise. Just let me help you-"

In an instant I was at the ege of the tree's, away from him. He'd been expecting it, but the look of hurt on his face showed he didn't like it.

"No, that bastard has had his fun now. The games over. There won't be a next time. I will never forgive you for this. For anything you did. You don't deserve a mate, so don't come looking for one in me!"

I saw his hand reach for me but I was gone.

If he was smart, he wouldn't come after me. Either way, I had the Cullens to find. If they thought I would give up now, they were dead wrong.

#felix volturi #demetri volturi #twilight #volturi #jane volturi #vampires #fanfic

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ohprettyweeper-moved · 6 years ago

Text

The Last Bandito

Part Thirteen: Part of Me, Apart from Me

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Ildri and Quinn make a rescue in Old Dema. Faylinn faces a hard truth. Tyler remembers, and Josh learns who the yellow-eyed woman is. Warnings: Some violence. Word Count: 1725 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate!

The Heathens waiting behind the gate, one man and one woman, stood confidently, unaware of the dangers that faced them in the two women standing on the other side; one with red eyes, one with yellow. Neither one moving or speaking.

“What is your business here?”

The red-eyed woman was holding her breath, but the yellow-eyed woman walked closer, within the boundaries of Old Dema. Recognizing a threat, the male Heathen rushed the yellow-eyed woman, only to find himself in a headlock seconds later.

“My business here is none of your concern,” the woman assured through gritted teeth before pulling his head sharply to the side. The red-eyed woman looked slightly in shock; the yellow-eyed woman shrugged. “One of the few ways to kill them so they stay dead. You want to take care of that one, or should I?”

Red eyes glowed even brighter as the bloodlust took over. The female Heathen backed further into the old city, her hands held in front of her, begging for her life.

“I don’t want to die!” she pleaded. “I serve the Bishops! They made me this thing!”

Her pleas did not stop the red-eyed woman from stalking closer to her prey. Blunt, human teeth extended into sharp, pointed fangs which soon sunk into the main artery of the Heathen. As the life drained out of the changed creature, the red eyes glowed so bright, they appeared to be on fire. When every drop of blood had been sucked from the woman Heathen, the red-eyed woman let the body drop to the ground with a hard, thoughtless thud. The woman with yellow-eyes wasn’t exactly smiling, but she wasn’t not smiling, either.

“How does it feel to be in control of the monster?” she asked the red-eyed woman.

“Like my first taste of freedom.”

“Good. Let’s keep moving. Others will be on us soon enough.”

The women moved stealthily yet quickly as they walked further into Old Dema and out of sight. Had Faylinn not seen it all with her own eyes, she never would have believed that her cousin and her friend were those two women. Quinn she could excuse; their acquaintance was still new. Ildri, however — how did Faylinn not know this about her cousin?

Fear and confusion gripped every fiber of Faylinn’s being. She turned from her hiding spot in the middle forest and ran back to New Dema, all the way to government building on the east side of the city.

Ildri led Quinn through the city. Despite the altercation at the gate, they did not encounter more Heathens until they had reached the second district within the city. A group of them stood guard in front of a tall building.

“That’s where they’re keeping him,” Ildri whispered. “If that weren’t it, there wouldn’t be so many.” She shook her head. “They knew I would come for him. If he didn’t have me to bring back to the Bishops, they knew I would come for him.”

“How would they know that?”

Ildri shook her head. “Not now. I’m still piecing it together, anyway. Think you’re ready for this?”

Quinn tilted her head and took in a deep breath. “Still hungry.”

With a confident nod, Ildri motioned for Quinn to follow her. The first Heathen they caught off-guard, but Quinn drinking the blood of one of their own alerted them to trouble. Two more of them went after Ildri; one ended up with a snapped neck before she could lay hands on Ildri. The second grabbed her from behind. Ildri grabbed the arm around her neck, working to stop him from suffocating her. Seeing that Quinn was taking on the two or three Heathens without much need for assistance, Ildri quickly lifted up on her toes, then used the leverage to slam the Heathen down to the dirt. Her yellow eyes bored into the red, angry eyes of the being under her. He hissed at her, showing his fangs; Ildri pulled the bandana off her face and returned the gesture. She could hiss and show her fangs with the same intimidation as any Heathen — and then some.

“I’m going to let you live,” Ildri hissed out, “but you will tell them. The Bishops. Tell them I am coming for all the monsters that ever touched him. I am coming for all the ones who twisted his stars into shadows. They turned him into a nightmare, so I’m going to be theirs. You will go, and you will tell the Bishops. Wake them if you have to, I don’t care. You will tell them, or I will come back, and I will kill you — and I have killed many of your kind, Heathen. Do not for one second think that hunting you down and finding you would be of any trouble to me.”

She stood up with one foot on the Heathen’s throat, and pulled the bandana back up over her face. She placed just enough pressure to cause him to sputter before she lifted her foot and turned her back to help Quinn with the last few Heathens in their way.

When all but the one Ildri had sent with a message for the Bishops was laying dead or unconscious on the ground — those who had survived Ildri and Quinn would be taken of by the Bishops, no doubt — they made way into the building to fight through another round of Heathens before they made it to the most heavily guarded cell.

“This must be it,” Ildri said, swallowing hard. She knew who was beyond that door, but she had no idea what to expect from him.

Quinn, whose irises were still red but not glowing, nodded. “You can do this, Il. It’s what we came here to do.”

Ildri nodded too, lifted the key ring in her hand, and got to work on the lock of the cell door.

The heavy door of the cell swung open. Two women stood before them, one with red eyes, not unlike their own, and the other with yellow eyes. That one pulled the bandana down from her face; with her eyes yellow now, looking directly into Tyler’s eyes as she stepped closer to him, cautiously, memories came flooding back to him. Memories of holding her while she cried over things with which they were both far too young to be dealing. Memories of her holding his hand while he fought the darkness in his mind. Memories of playing at his house, dinners with his family — he had a family. Memories of things she had told him in confidence, things he never would tell anyone else. Things the Bishops had likely expected him to remember, not realizing what would be gone when they replaced his memories with ones they preferred him to have.

“Ildri?” Tyler whispered.

Her yellow eyes welled with tears as she nodded. “You remember me?”

Tyler nodded. “They gave me just enough to find you, and it broke everything else. I remember you, I remember everything. You were my best friend. Both sets of memories are up there, but you — you’re the brightest of all of it. You always were.”

She rushed for him, and Tyler accepted her embrace with fierce return. The darkness inside him all this time had been what kept him from fully embracing the Bishops’ rule, but his demons had been locked away with his true memories.

“Long lost love?” Josh finally asked, breaking up the reunion. Quinn snorted in the background.

Tyler let go of Ildri and apologized. “No, but she was my best friend. And I was hers. The Bishops stole me knowing I would later lead them to her. Or she would come here for me.”

“Why would they use you to get her?” Quinn asked, stepping closer behind Ildri.

Tyler stepped away from Ildri to face both Quinn and Josh. “Because she was the last child born here in Old Dema. Before New Dema was a thing, when the rebels were known as Banditos and set up their camp in Trench. Before the Bishops began stealing people away from New Dema and the races began to mix.”

“She’s the last Bandito,” Josh surmised, his comment fringed with surprise.

Quinn raised her brow. “Okay, I’m not from around here, originally, I came for the professor job, so I’m rusty on my Dema history. At any rate, you’ll have to detail this for me later because I think our time may be running out here.”

Tyler and Josh both looked at each other; they had been so caught up in Ildri’s past, they had not detected until now that the Bishops had indeed been woken, as Ildri had instructed the Heathen to do.

“That would be my fault,” she winced, pulling her bandana up over her face again. “We should get going.”

Tyler and Josh nodded, following the two women on an unobstructed path to the gate. Waiting there for them, though, was Keons. The four of them stopped in their tracks. Ildri stepped in front of the other three.

“You want me not them,” Ildri said. “Let them go. I will stay.”

Keons shook his head, then stood to the side to allow them all to pass. “I liberated you from this place once before. Why should I not do it now?”

The foursome did not wait to see if the Bishop would change his mind. Just outside of the gate, Ildri stepped away from the rest of them and stood in the gateway.

“I will come back, make no mistake about that. I will come back, and I will make good on my promise.”

Keons looked neither surprised nor intimidated. “Vy davno vtrachena dochka Demy. Zvychayno, vy povernetesya.”

Ildri stood there and stared at the Bishop, his words making her wonder so many things about her existence. Things she thought she had reconciled. Fingers curled around her arm, pulling her from those thoughts. She looked to her left and saw Tyler. Everything about him was so familiar, despite the fact that he was older and his eyes were not the color she had dreamed all these years. The look he gave her was stronger than the doubts Keons gave her.

For that, she turned her back on the Bishop, and followed her friend into the middle forest.

#twenty one pilots fanfiction #twenty one pilots fanfic #twenty one pilots fic #tøp fanfiction #tøp fanfic #tøp fic #the last bandito #sahlo folina #trench #inspired #tyler #tyler joseph #josh #josh dun #we're getting there #i think

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autumnpawtribe · 6 years ago

Text

Random moment - Aret, Vol and Tarja

Vol moved his fingers, deftly moving through thick, midnight black locks of hair. He thanked Kit for teaching him the art of tiny braids. The younger of his two mates had found that the tinier braids, braided into larger ones, held his hair better when he was on duty, and when the gentle giant of a Darkspear tugged on the end of his hair affectionately. It soothed Aret to have someone take care of him a bit, and he enjoyed having his hair played with. The sides freshly shaven and dozens of tiny braids later, Vol’raka was making the tiny braids into a larger braid. He was tying the end with a leather strap right then, Aret sorting through a box of flowers from his garden.

He’d been worried that Vol would not let him have the garden he had asked for, so it had taken a few weeks before he even said something to Xiao. He had mentioned wanting to ask for a little space to Nielka. The girl, who Aret who should have known his little sister could not keep her big mouth shut told both Xiao and Vol’raka within hours. That lead to Vol leaving a pack of seeds in front of Aret one the next morning that he was home from Zandalar. The rows were already tilled and all that needed done was finish the fence. Since the day it had been completed Janaret faithfully tended the garden, cultivating not only flowers and things used in his alchemy and Vol’raka’s inks, but a pair of peach trees, a lone apple tree and a specific corner only for strawberries, and the strawberries were coming up nicely. The little plot was only for Aret and the family, the prelate very happy about having a small place just for himself.

A small kiss was laid on Aret’s shoulder as Vol pulled away, smiling at his mate as the small basket was emptied of the first of Aret’s harvest. There was not much, but Vol knew well that Aret was very proud of the few flowers that had he had managed to grow. A few of them flavored the tea that Vol had prepared, the mix a combination of wild tea leaves from Pandaria and a bit of Peacebloom. It was a stronger mix than the same combination Aret had been giving Tarja, who had tusks coming in. The Peacebloom helped the pain.

“You are enjoying that garden of yours, Aret. Planning on drying most of those?” Vol placed down two cups and one of Xiao’s teapots before putting Tarja in her chair. She preferred to sit in her chair and hold her own bottle now and was very vocal about staying out of what her Uncle Venya called “baby jail”. The playpen had been a failure, so she sat at the table in her chair, entertained by a bottle of yak and goat milks.

“Yes.” The Zandalari was smiling as he was sorting the flowers into small piles. Once they were laid as he wanted them, his smile brightened and he looked up at the Darkspear. “As soon as I have dried some, I will be sure to save some for inks and all that that you need.”

“Janaret, that is your garden, your flowers and your space. You don’t need to give me anything for it.” Vol poured a cup of the tea for himself and Aret, inhaling the subtle scent that Xiao had taught him to appreciate. “Still not sure why you didn’t just ask us.”

The zandalari looked away, flushing a bit. “I would have.. Eventually. Nielka beat me to it a bit. I didn’t want to trouble you with all that is going on and how irritated you have been in the last few weeks. It didn’t seem important.”

Vol inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly to curb his reaction. He’d been a bit standoffish in the last month, but was handling his emotions, and working through them, in regards to his new family. His new family was complicated, a bit trying, but the new house built a bit farther down the path helped. From the outside, it looked small but was mostly a home of portals and such. All Mage-built. Inside lived Janaret’s mother Pahre, his younger sister Nielka, Vol’raka’s brother, Venyabi as well his brother’s mate Naddja and her eldest son, Zakin. Naddja and Vol’s relationship was complicated, highly strained, but mellowing out when they were not in each other’s face as often. Naddja had drugged and raped Vol over a year before, on the orders of her husband and father. Both were abusive to the ones under their care, and while Vol had not wanted a child, he loved Tarja deeply. He did not care to spend a great time with Naddja, but since finding out that she was his submissive mate’s sister, it couldn’t be helped. Xiao and he had gone so far as to rid the world of both Jansevet and Mala’ket. Vol swore it was for Aret and Tarja’s sake, not Naddja’s.

“Aret, you are important. Your wants, needs. You can ask me for things and I will provide them.” Long blue fingers slid across to hold tight lavender ones, giving a small squeeze. “I took you as lover, beloved, mate, soon husband When you asked me to be fa’da, I took that very seriously, because I know what it meant. I will take care of you. That means giving you things you want and need. Not just upstairs in the bedroom.” He glanced up at where their room was, their mate Xiao Chun asleep since Tarja had kept him up. “Have to tell me when you want or need something like that. Never think you are not important nor anything of the sort. I need you as much as Xiao. As much as he has need of us, we have need of you.”

“Yes, Fa’da.” Janaret looked down at his tea but squeezed the hunter’s calloused hand back with a smile. “Does it bother Xiao that I call you Fa’da, when it is just us?”

Vol shook his head, hand still holding Aret’s, but taking a sip of his tea. “He knows of it, but He knows it is something between you and I alone. He and I have our thing, you and I have ours. You’ll be going off on that trip to find the one for the two of you, in a few weeks right?” He pulled his hand away only to take Tarja’s bottle back as she pushed it away and started rubbing her face. “Daughter, I know.. They hurt.” He stood up to get the paste they used to soothe her sore gums, putting her on his lap as he rubbed it over the nubs that would soon be tiny tusks. “Have you decided where you will go?”

Aret shook his head, looking meek. “I have not decided. Xiao said it was wherever i wanted to go. It means leaving you alone, and Tarja is teething…”

Vol smiled, shaking his head. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of our child for a few weeks. I am sure Auntie Pahre, Nielka, Venya and… yes even Naddja will be willing to help. You and Xiao need time to find your special. I don’t think he’s apt to be called Fa’da. That’s mine. I do however think he is enjoying being called Master Xiao Chun. Well, somewhere where he is not teaching someone to fight.”

Aret blushed, taking a drink of his tea. He looked up, apprehensive, but he’d been told to ask for things he wanted. He took another drink before handing over Tarja’s bottle and softly clearing his throat. “I can.. ask for things… you are sure?”

“Within the boundaries you have been given and reason. Hard for me to Kill the King of Stormwind, or give you a ring made of the moon. For my family, I would, if I could.” Vol smiled, giving the prelate a kiss on the knuckle before pouring a second cup of tea. He decided on a bit of honey and so got up and put Tarja back in her chair to get up and to retrieve the jar with a honeycomb in it. He was reaching up for it, silently grumbling in complaint that it was a bit sticky. “Remind me to get on Venya, he is the one that leaves this thing sticky.”

“May I have a pet?”

Vol turned, leaning against the counter with a quirked brow. “A pet. What kind of pet?” His body language was open, and he was listening. He was mostly smiling at the adorable look of his younger mate fidgeting.

“We.. We were not allowed pets.. Or animals. I…” He looked down, staring into his cup as the one he called Fa’da came close, a hand on Janaret’s cheek. “I have always wanted a pet. I know it is silly, and…”

Vol cut him off, not unkindly, a finger under the prelate’s chin as he turned sapphire eyes to look into amber. “It is not silly. It is a small request.” Leaning down, he gave Aret a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting back down and putting honey in his tea. He spoke only after taking Tarja’s bottle away before she threw it away from her fathers, as she had been doing lately. “What kind of pet do you want? A raptor? A Bird?”

“A Kitten?”

Aret looked up, bright eyed as any child as he did. It made Vol laugh, Tarja giggling along with her father as he nodded. “A kitten it is. I actually think there is someone in Halfhill who may be able to help. Why don’t we go for a short trip.” He grinned, picking up Tarja and kissing her nose. “You get to come too, little girl. Let Ba sleep some more.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Aret wanted a kitten. Tarja wanted one too.”

Xiao looked down at the Prelate and clapping baby, Aret showing Tarja how to play with the two kittens, a short haired silver tabby and a long haired ragdoll. They all four were playing on the floor of the room Vol used for an office a long wide ribbon being chased by the tabby, the ragdoll content to laze in Tarja’s lap. Xiao just smiled as Vol pulled him close. “Told you we would find a more relaxed Aret.”

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yotsutama · 7 years ago

Photo

Iori Photobook: Special Interview

"We were able to shoot properly according to the theme"

Yuki: Iori-kun, good work on your photoshoot. I'm glad we took a good shot of you.

Iori: Good work. Thank you for being my producer.

Yuki: We rarely talk to each other so I guess I will ask about you thoroughly today.

Iori: Don't be too hard on me please.

Yuki: You're so stiff. Momo persistently told me, "We proposed this project so do this properly," so I'll be kind to you.

Iori: Haa....

Yuki: Let's start with the first question. What do you think about me?

Iori: What a difficult question and it’s only the first one....

Yuki: That reaction isn't bad. But it's an important question to help us get along.

Iori: That may be true. At first, I thought Yuki-san was a cool but scary person.

Yuki: Fufu, I get told that often.

Iori: However, you actually have an approachable personality, you give off a good senpai impression who takes good care of us, as his kouhais.

Yuki: Iori-kun....

Iori: Well, you are a bit odd though.

Yuki: Am I?

Iori: I guess.

Yuki: I'm ordinary, you know. To the point that there's no one else as ordinary as me.

Iori: If you are as ordinary as you claim, you wouldn't have tricked us when we first met, am I right?

Yuki: Like I had any other choice, you were all so cute that I wanted to eat you up.

Iori: Don't eat us please....

Yuki: Yum yum.

Iori: Don't "yum yum" me. Also, the other day, when we didn’t know you were there, you suddenly stood behind me and grabbed my butt whispering "You, you have a nice butt. You have caught the Peach-Butt Lovers Club president's eyes," didn't you!?

Yuki: Pfft (lol). That did happen. Your reactions were cute as always.

Iori: S-Stop that please! First of all, who on earth is the Peach-Butt Lovers Club president....

Yuki: Momo told me to say that.

Iori: You two senpais have bad taste, geez!

Yuki: But today's shoot was perfect, right?

Iori: As you said, I think we were able to shoot properly according to the theme. I rarely do a photoshoot alone so I hope the fans are pleased....

Yuki: What is the theme again?

Iori: Huh!? It-It's "A Morning with your Dearest Person," isn't it!?

Yuki: Yeah, thanks. I just wanted to hear "dearest person" coming from your mouth.

Iori: Ugh......!

Yuki: Being a high-schooler is nice. I'm glad we could take some shots in a classroom. I think I was able to show Iori-kun's natural form.

Iori: I did not think I would have to wear my actual uniform for this project, it's a bit embarrassing.

Yuki: You should use it as your weapon, HSB.

Iori: It's been a while since I last heard the HSB word.

Yuki: Seriously? Forget what I said then.

Yuki: I just realized though, isn't this a conversation between the oldest and the youngest among the 12 of us?

Iori: The youngest is actually Yotsuba-san who was born on April 1st, but Yotsuba-san and I are the same age so everyone often forgets that fact.

Yuki: I see. Okay then, almost youngest Iori-kun, the cameraman told you to imagine someone you like is in front of you, did you actually imagine it?

Iori: I did my best, but being told that troubled me.

Yuki: Aah, so you still don't have a person you like. Then what did you imagine?

Iori: I didn't particularly imagine someone.

Yuki: That's boring.

Iori: Even if you say that....

Yuki: If bringing out a girl's name is difficult, you can just say that it's Mitsuki-kun.

Iori: Ni-Nii-san!?

Yuki: Don't panic (lol). Isn't brotherly love nice? It's beautiful. Or maybe Riku-kun? You two are close, right?

Iori: Whether we are close or not doesn't matter here...!

Yuki: Well, Iori-kun is close with those who need a lot of attention, right? Your love towards your members is great.

Iori: Our relationship is not like yours and Momo-san's....

Yuki: You want to be like us? Then the first step is to send good morning and good night messages to each other.

Iori: We can just say that to each other directly unless we have different jobs that day.

Yuki: Now that you mention it, you all live in dorms, huh? That's perfect then, you can be Re:vale2 from today on.

Iori: That's not necessary.

Yuki: Fufu. Iori fans might hate me if I tease you too much.

Iori: This is the first time someone older than me can make me lose my composure this much....

Yuki: What an honor. Let's move on to the next question. Can you tell us your saddest and happiest moments since you started in the entertainment business?

Iori: Saddest moments... I see. Once, I troubled my members in a live. If I hadn't made that mistake, everyone wouldn't have been so sad that time.

Yuki: Did your members blame you?

Iori: No, no one blamed me.

Yuki: Members are like that. They are always in the same boat.

Iori: You might be right. That day, someone told me. ‘We are idols. Idols' job is to make people smile. Doing it alone might be difficult, but if your members are with you, it's a very easy thing.’

Yuki: That means if there are 7 of you, you become the strongest, right?

Iori: Yes. Rokuya-san taught me that.

Yuki: So it's Nagi-kun. He really watches over everyone. How about Mitsuki-kun? Did he say something to Iori-kun as the big brother?

Iori: He said that it was the first time in his life he was able to comfort me, someone who had never made a mistake. He laughed while hugging me... He is a very kind person.

Yuki: You're so proud of your big brother, aren't you?

Iori: Yes, from the bottom of my heart.

"I hope I can be the night sky that allows those shooting stars to keep shining."

Yuki: How nice, I want a little brother now.

Iori: Are you an only child?

Yuki: I am. I wonder if someone would want to be my little brother.

Iori: You can just cherish Momo-san as if he was your own brother.

Yuki: Momo is more like a pet rather than a brother, isn't he?

Iori: Momo-san will get angry you know....

Yuki: He adores me saying, "Yuki, Yuki!" isn't it cute? He’s like a puppy.

Iori: I can never understand Re:vale's way of expressing their love.

Yuki: Your relationship will either end up like that or it’ll get worse 5 years later.

Iori: That goes for IDOLiSH7 as well?

Yuki: Yeah. I wonder which outcome you guys will end up with?

Iori: Preferably, I hope it doesn't get worse.... We live in dorms and all.

Yuki: You don't want to have separate lives under the same roof, right? I will give you some good tips.

Iori: Is it saying good morning and good night everyday?

Yuki: That, plus eating meals together.

Iori: Eating meals?

Yuki: Yeah. Eating together warms your heart. Try to have meals together whenever you have time.

Iori: I am surprised by how proper your tips are.

Yuki: Isn't that a little rude, Iori-kun? (lol)

Iori: I am sorry, after I overheard you and Momo-san's conversation in the dressing room, I....

Yuki: Is something wrong?

Iori: Seeing you clean Momo-san's ear while lending your knees as his pillow made me a bit, I mean, very surprised.

Yuki: Because we always fool around in front of you, right?

Iori: Your boundaries between joking around and being serious is as difficult as Shinjuku's railway.

Yuki: That's such an interesting metaphor. You're the type who gets lost easily, aren't you.

Iori: Y-You went off topic.

Yuki: Did I? Then let's get back on topic. Can you tell us some of your happiest moments?

Iori: May I mention more than one?

Yuki: You’re more than welcome. Go ahead.

Iori: First is when we won in the male idols division of Black or White.

Yuki: You won against TRIGGER, didn't you? On that day, no matter which one of you had won, no one would complain. Both groups did their very best.

Iori: Yes. When our group’s name was announced, we were so surprised.

Yuki: You’ve become a stronger group since that time.

Iori: You told us to 'climb up here.' I haven't forgotten your words since that time.

Yuki: How threatening. We can't let our guards down now.

Iori: It's just talk. We haven't climbed up to the same stage as yours.

Yuki: That's wrong. The president of Peach-Butt Lovers Club is looking forward to it.

Iori: Just who on earth is it!?

Yuki: You know, don’t you? It's Momo.

Iori: I didn't know...!

Yuki: It's Momo's peach-butt. Pfft (lol).

Iori: So, it's a pun....

Yuki: Sorry, I went off topic again. What's the second moment?

Iori: Yes, it's Nanase-san's return as our center in RESTART POiNTER.

Yuki: That live was so moving. Momo and I watched the MV many times.

Iori: Thank you very much. On that day, I was so charmed by Nanase-san's singing that I had to look back at him. I was so proud, I wanted to say, "Look everyone, he is our center." (2)

Yuki: You really like Riku-kun after all.

Iori: I'm talking about his singing!

Yuki: Fufu, sorry. I also like Riku-kun's wonderful vocal range and singing that reaches comfortably to the ear.

Iori: He is our center after all.

Yuki: My Momo won't lose though.

Iori: Why are we bragging to each other (lol).

Yuki: Ah, you finally laughed. I feel like I can finally open up Iori-kun's heart.

Iori: I am sorry, I can't make a cute conversation...

Yuki: You don't have to apologize. When you make onigiri with Mitsuki-kun and when you laughed at Riku-kun who had cream on his cheek, I know that during those times, that is the real you. You're absolutely cute.

Iori: You really have watched it a lot......

Yuki: I'm confident I can talk about that MV all night. However, we all look forward to seeing IDOLiSH7 leap forward from here on out.

Iori: For our great senpai to say that, it's an honor for us.

Yuki: Isn't it? Okay, I guess it's almost time. Last part of this interview, a message to your fans who will read this book.

Iori: Thank you very much for always supporting IDOLiSH7. I am not good at talking about myself... But I tried my best with the help of my senpai, Yuki-san, hoping I can meet everyone's expectations. IDOLiSH7 will always be the shooting stars that shake your hearts from here on out. I hope I can be the night sky that allows those shooting stars to keep shining.

Special thanks for @ousama-pudding and @huhwhatyak for proofreading and photos!

(1) Yuki says DK here. DK = Danshi Koukousei = High School Boy

(2) OK IORI LITERALLY SAYS 惚れ直し which means "I fell in love with his singing again" MMMH

Thanks for reading!😸

#idolish7 #izumi iori #iori izumi #yuki #photobook interview #SUCH A BIG TSUN #ILYSM💢#yazutranslates

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btstaejimin · 7 years ago

Text

Desire or Comfort? (Jimin and Taehyung Angst)

Hey guys,

I haven’t posted any original content for a while, but recently I have reconnected with a friend who is also an ARMY as a result of me sksksksk ^^. She managed to get me to write up my personal dreams in the form of an imagine/fanfic. While also encouraging me to post them, this is my first ever smut post(well first chapter is suggestive, second and third chapters though... oh hunny ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

I apologise for being MIA for the last year or so, I’m currently in my second year of university... ya girl is getting old T_T. I think I started this blog back in 2015 when I was a year into being an ARMY, I was very active and then exams were around the corner and I just focused on reblogging content from blogs dedicated to BTS. Anyway enough rambling. I’ve written 3 chapters so far (we all know I prefer one-shots cos I'm lazy heh), but if the first one does well I’ll post the other two. Hope you enjoy xx

(A/N: Apologies my writing style might’ve changed a lil bit xx)

Warnings: Smut(in future chapters), Adultery... and Angst heheh

Word Count: 3984

Part 2

Chapter 1

It had been 2 and half years since he seized the opportunity to step past the friendship boundary I had created. Though I was in love with him, I was okay with watching him from afar. Our friendship started off with a rare opportunity I came across.

You see I was a freelancer, a teacher in the day and anything in the evening to make extra money on the side. Though most of my jobs were either being a runner on set, makeup artist or hair stylist or even a cleaner. My passion was photography. Non-profit projects were often funded by my side jobs, luckily enough one of the works I did, managed to be viewed by an assistant whom worked for a popular boy band. At the time, I was unaware of their popularity but I did appreciate their music.

Through word of mouth, I managed to work on set at a shoot with the said boy band, and later on, was gifted the opportunity to work full time with their team. I was intrigued by the shortest boy of the group, his skin was fair as snow, ebony hair and hooded eyes that could trap your soul if you were not careful. He was living beauty at its most divine. His looks were intimidating until he smiled, that domineering feeling vanished once she showcased his pearly whites with pride. His name was Park Jimin. He was the reason for the sins I proceeded to commit, though aware of the consequences.

It was innocent at first, he was one of the seven boys that continued to captivate me without ease. Though he was the most enchanting to me, there was another that did not fail to make me question my sanity. He was tall, shoulders as broad as a door frame, lashes that aided in losing yourself in his uneven brown eyes, fingers slender yet gentle, his rectangular smile would make your heart flutter to the point you forgot how to breathe. He too played a role in my confusion between my heart and my loins. Kim Taehyung. That devil bastard, ruined everything in one simple moment of weakness.

In the first year of working for the seven talented boys, I amassed deep connections to a select few, though I was on good terms with all the handsome men, a select few proceeded to play with my heartstrings as though I was a harp and they were beginner harpists whom they’d break in till they learned every inch of the instrument.

I was like putty in their hands, anything they asked for, I’d do, but their smiles were enough reward for my sore legs. After eight months, Jimin decided to seize the opportunity into asking me on a date.

His hair now blonde, cascaded effortlessly across his forehead, lips plump and rosy, he begun..

“Let me take you out to eat sometime, Y/N” he insisted.

His hand found the small of his neck while he shun his teeth through his thick lips.

‘*Sigh* .. I hate when he does that... Why does he have to do that?’ I thought as I felt my face flush with crimson

‘If I just play dumb and say sure as friends, then maybe, he’ll catch on’

It's not that I did not want to date him, but over time as I stood next to him or remotely near the piece of artwork, I was reminded of my insignificance and how much I didn’t deserve to be even breathing the same air as something so beautifully breath-taking.

“Yeah, let's go get some spicy rice cakes or something, it’s important for friends to hang out” I exclaimed brushing past him to the practice room where all the other boys were waiting.

Though I recall that moment being very awkward, it didn’t stop him.

He followed me into the room, making his presence known.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean as friends, I want to date you, for goodness sakes!” He spoke with haste.

The room did not fail to submerge me in ‘oooh’s’ and ‘ahhhh’s’ and ‘wooo’s’. I was drowning, not only in embarrassment, but fear.

He was something I wasn’t deserving nor worthy of, he was someone whom was my forever person, but things took a turn for the worst in our second year of being together.

Things became dull, overfamiliar and repetitive. We both were undeniably uncomfortable in an environment we labelled to be a place of comfort.

Overtime, it created an issue with his best friend Taehyung, as I often found myself indulging in his company to escape the blandness, I called my lover.

Jimin hated the way I smiled so often around Taehyung, the way he was able to change my body language just through entering the room. He was jealous, and I was ignorant to it. We both found comfort in other things, unfortunately for him, my comfort was found in the other members.

Jungkook, the youngest of the seven managed to find my portfolio of old works and had asked to accompany me on one of my projects, he was the only one who knew about my passion, he was respectful, humble and willing to learn. He had helped me on set that day, our bond became stronger through our mutual interest. After arriving at the dorm that evening, Jungkook continued to discuss possible concepts to explore in my work till he stumbled upon an idea.

“Considering, you’ve been doing minimal projects lately, I’m guessing you’re suffering from mild artist block?” He hummed leaning his head to one side while lifting the corner of his mouth.

“How did you know?” My eyes widened from the sudden intrigue.

“Mmm, you don’t seem yourself lately, I mean we’ve known you for 3 and a half years, yet only 3 months ago did I find your portfolio while you were cleaning out your apartment”

The young man decided to take it upon himself to read me like a book?

I wasn’t offended, more confused, I’d be lying if I said I was myself lately, but with the current tension with Jimin, I never had time to plan projects as I was always preoccupied with my growing concern for our relationship.

“Ahhh, photography is like my little secret you see, it's my guilty pleasure, I don’t really like sharing my work with others” I smiled faintly.

“I see, but your works are beautiful, they are something to be showcased, you know Taehyung is into photography too” He chimed.

Speak of the devil, the handsome figure walked into the open planned kitchen with nothing but slacks, a beanie and a long sleeve t-shirt hanging from his frame. Bastard. He was so effortlessly attractive and he knew it.

“What’s this I hear about photography?” He cheeks balled up as he poured himself a glass of water.

“Hyung, did you know Y/N is a photographer? She refuses to be credited for her works though.” He turned to the older male.

Taehyung stopped drinking, and in that moment, I felt the piercing eyes of the male search for my soul.

“No, I had no idea” He whispered, I could almost taste the betrayal he felt from the string of words, he let slip from his lips.

My head remained low as I searched the cupboards for something to eat.

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/N?, I thought we were close.” He spoke, looking for my eyes.

“I don’t know, it never came up, so I never got around to telling you.” I shrugged.

“But how come Kook knows?” He took a seat at the island, crossing his arms.

“Oh, that’s my fault, Hyung. I went to her apartment while she was cleaning and found her portfolio” He spoke.

The air was thick, I wasn’t exactly sure why, possibly because Taehyung felt left out of the loop, but even Jimin didn’t know much about my hobby, only that I take pictures on occasion.

For that moment, I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

“I have an idea, since you’re suffering from a block, how about we flip roles, you be the subject and I am the photographer” Jungkook jumped up from his stool, excited from the prospect.

“How about I pick a place personal to me and then the concept I come up with, you have to recreate as the photographer and me as the subject?” He added.

“Umm, I don’t know Kook, I’ve never been the subject before, I’m much more comfortable behind the camera, I mean its a good idea bu-“

“I’m in” Taehyung cut.

“Huh?” I questioned.

“I’ve always wanted to shoot you Y/N, I’ve told you time and time again, that you should model or something, but you never listen to me, this would be a great opportunity, to switch roles and stimulate your creativity!” He answered while Kook nodded his head in agreement.

“I don’t wan-“

“I want to join in too” A voice spoke from behind the nearest wall.

“I mean she is my girlfriend after all, plus I’d get to spend some quality time with her” Jimin smiled.

“I didn’t sign up for this, I don’t want to” I hissed.

“I mean you owe us an explanation about this deep-rooted hobby so this is a nice way out of it and its beneficial to all of us” Taehyung demanded, eyes dark as he stood from the island.

“We’ll let you know what we plan to do, just keep the next two weeks free for us” Taehyung spoke once more, turning his back to me while lifting his hand as he left the kitchen.

The time had come where I’d be the subject of the boys eyes, though I didn’t want to, the more I thought about it the more I convinced myself that this was an opportunity for new inspiration. With most things Taehyung requested to do things first, in this instance it wasn’t an exception either.

He had planned to take me to Daegu, his home city and place of origin and birth, he had always been proud of his dialect more than others. Yet, something seemed off with him, he had requested to have me for 5 of the 14 days I was told to keep free.

Why would he need 5 days for a simple photoshoot?

As we began walking through the local market, he began

“To put it simply Y/N, the boys and I decided we would have to do 3 concepts with you each, I got the most amount of days because we will be going to Japan for two of them, the other three we shall be in Daegu” he sung while spinning on his heel with hands stretched out.

“I didn’t agree to go to Japan for this stupid project! I’m going home!” This was a bad idea, I didn’t want to be a pain but my gut was telling me being alone with Tae was dangerous enough in itself, but being abroad with him.. I don’t know whether I’d be able to control my hormones around him, the sexual tension was high enough in itself. The prospect of something so romantic could jeopardise my relationship with Jimin.

He was quick yet firm to grab my wrist while pulling it up to a 90-degree angle parallel to my face.

Stopping me before I could find my way back to the train station.

“Hey, I already booked our tickets with the help of Jimin, it’s too late to go back now”

What... why would Jimin give him my passport and other details so easily if he detests our closeness?

Was he testing me? Or did he genuinely trust me?

The first shoot with Taehyung was awkward, seeing him crouched in different positions to find the angle he wanted was intimidating, I hated myself for how I admired his passion, the white shirt he wore showcased his collarbones and abnormally muscular neck. All I could think about was how his skin felt while he pranced around his chosen studio, showing me his body in all angles.

Taehyung appreciated the simpler things in his photography, he had always had an eye for vintage cameras. He’d always exclaim how he like capturing moments and snippets in time loops when it came to scenic pictures. However, with subjects he found it difficult to explore ideas as he appreciated candid shots. The first shoot took place in a modern yet minimalistic studio. Choosing soft fabrics such as satin and cotton, against a white background, mostly using the natural sunlight to capture his shots.

“Y/N, this shoot is about capturing you in your most innocent state, I want you to be vulnerable but willing” He hummed.

“Tae, what do you mean willing?” I questioned.

“I mean, as in willing to learn, I want you to be vulnerable but open-minded to the prospect of exploring a relationship” He demanded.

Yeah, Taehyung was never good at conveying what he wanted from others.

“Okay, let me give you context, you have just come out of a difficult relationship, you meet this guy, he is genuine and he makes you excited, but you are reluctant” He explained.

“Okay, I’m following...” I replied.

“Right, now I want you to be open-minded to the prospect of exploring a relationship with this new guy” He smiled.

At the time, I should’ve realised where he was going with this concept, however, I was too caught up in the moment of feeling oddly vulnerable in front of the camera. I didn’t like it, so I tried to convey what was asked of me so I could return to my comfort zone. Taehyung had made it a point to keep my face natural and the set minimal.

“Tae, what’s the general theme of your shoots?” I asked while packing up his equipment.

“Hmmm, I want to achieve three images of you in your rawest form” he hummed while folding the sheets.

“Any particular reason why?”

“I think that’s when you are the most beautiful” He showcased his boxy smile, making my heart flutter for a moment.

I felt guilty as I paused to watch the tall figure move around the studio so gracefully, I wanted to embrace him yet kick him at the same time. He knew I was with his best friend, yet he proceeded to taunt me like this?

“Ha ha, so cringey, anyway I’m going to give Jimin a call” I spoke sarcastically, quickly removing myself from the tension he caused.

Rapidly searching for Jimin in my contacts, I wanted to hear his voice, I needed to hear it, to keep me grounded! I needed to be reminded of the difference between love and lust.

“Jagiya, I miss you” I spoke. [Jagiya=Honey, sweetie, love]

“How’s Tae?” Chim asked.

Odd. Instead of responding to me, he’s concerned about Taehyung.

“He’s well I guess, you could call him if you’d like” I hissed.

“I will, I’ll see you soon”

“Yah! If you dare hang up on me Park Jimin, you’ll have another thing coming” I shouted.

“Like what?” He questioned snidely.

I hung up, his sass was too much for me right now, if anything that call pushed me even further away from him.

“Everything alright?” Taehyung was quick to attend my bruised ego.

I debated making a snide remark about his best friend but the prospect of showing Tae the cracks in what was left of my relationship would hurt what was left of my pride.

“Yeah, I’m going to back to then bnb to have a nap, I’m quite tired after today” I whispered.

“What? No! its only 2pm Y/N, you promised you’d let me show you my home city!” He pleaded.

“Yah, Taehyung-ah.. I’m not in the mood, with you being all happy around me will just make me feel guilty!”

“You argued with Jimin didn’t you.” That boy could see right through me. I didn’t realise how transparent I truly was.

“I did not.”

“You did, you’re so obvious” He sighed.

“And wha-“

In moments, I felt the boy’s strong arms wrap around my torso, pulling me into his embrace. He hot breath dispersed across my scalp. Why? Just why did he have to touch me? He was contributing to the cracks in my relationship. I felt responsible for putting my guard down.

He was the puppeteer to my heartstrings, and I was the idiot allowing myself to be played.

“It’s okay, you can cry. I’m here, I’m always here.” He spoke, placing his chin on the crown of my scalp.

My ears were pressed against his broad chest, his heart was steady and calm.

“Taehyung. I don’t mean to be rude, but can you let go of me” I said brazenly.

“uh?”

I pushed myself away from the figure. I already felt bad for being close friends to the boy, but the tension he was causing within every dynamic I shared with the boys and myself was becoming unhealthy.

The second shoot with Taehyung took place in a studio filled with heaps of flowers.

“This is the second stage of your new relationship, you’re blossoming, figuratively and literally” he skipped searching for flowers to encase my body in.

“Imagine that this is a new chapter of your life, better yet a new volume, you’re a new person and this guy brings the best out of you”

At this point, I should’ve seen what was coming, but I was still offended by Jimin’s disregard for my being and feelings, he was purposely being spiteful because he was bitter.

“Ah, one second, Jimin’s calling me” He laughed.

Wow. They are both bastards. I’d half expect Taehyung would not pick up, but I’d also hope that Jimin would contact me back first.

“Jimin told me to tell you that you should unblock him”

Oh, I forgot... I am quite irrational when I’m irritated.

“He also said that he is sorry, and that he misses you”

Suspicious, why would Jimin provide any insight into our relationship when he detests the fact that I, too am close to his beloved Taehyung.

“Ok” Is what I chose to reply with, possibly because I wanted to be an asshole, but also because I refused to show any ounce of emotion to all parties concerned.

Before I knew it, I was on a plane to Japan. Sitting next to someone whom was beautiful even when they were drooling. Taehyung had always been irritating due to the sole fact that, that boy could be dressed in a bin bag and he’d still look like a model.

“If you’re going to stare at me like that while I sleep, I’m assuming you’re giving me permission to do the same?” He spoke with his eyes still closed.

That cocky bastard, he had eyes at the side of his head now too?

“Oh no, I was just admiring the string of drool that’s hanging from your chin” I hissed, turning my head to face the seat in front of me.

Hastily, the boy wiped his string of saliva with the back of his hand. Classy.

I refused to speak to Jimin till I had landed back in SK. Taehyung and I were booked to be in Japan for 2 and a half days after all, might as well make the most of it, right?

Wrong. That’s where I committed the sinniest sin amongst sins. [not an actual word, but in this instance... is a word]

Japan was beautiful, Taehyung seemed to have perfectly timed such a trip, or it was due to his sheer luck. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was based on luck, due to his undeniably beautiful features and personality to pair.

Sakura. The season of cherry blossoms gracing the country. Taehyung had booked a hotel in Kyoto, his demeanour changed the moment we checked in at the hotel. Something sinister yet determined, became evident in his actions.

This hotel had a bath that emulated that of the hot springs famous around Japan. He had me dressed in nothing but a large white shirt. I felt even more vulnerable than I did in the first shoot. I’d hope I wouldn’t have to be in the bath. If I had known what would’ve happened after the shoot, I would’ve protested.

“Y/N, I know this seems outrageous, but I promise you that this is only in sight of our project, I want you to submerge yourself in the water” [water is wet]

“I want you to be completely wet, this is the last stage of your relationship blossoming, you don’t have to feign innocence, you can allow your body to be possessed by lust in its rawest from”

“I’m not going to judge you nor scrutinise you, but I want you to look at the camera as though you’re seeing Jimin naked for the first time” He sang to me.

He was playing a dangerous game, I was only wearing that t-shirt and a pair of knickers, didn’t he know that the material would cling to every orifice of my body. What was he playing at exactly?

“Umm, I don’t feel comfortable with doing that, Tae” I spoke stepping into the mist filled tub.

“Just do it Y/N” He demanded.

“Show me your sensual side, show me what else there is to you” He pleaded.

Was he talking to be directly or figuratively? Or both?

“Taehyu-“

“Seriously, we flew all the way here for you to do this?”

I found myself almost completely submerged under, leaving but my nose to forehead above water.

“You’ve done this for me twice already! I just want to see the real you, okay?” He reassured the knots in my stomach, that this was for art. If I should part-take in such a project, I should at least commit completely.

The transparent liquid aided in adjusting my nerves, it was warm and comforting, I just needed to use my imagination to give the shots that was required of me.

I began posing in ways that were foreign to me, mostly using my eyes to envelope Tae into a façade that appeared real, yet was entirely fake.

I wanted to take him, he was my muse in that moment. I was not making love to the camera, I was making lust to him. He was cruel to put me in such a compromising predicament, but to his surprise, I did not falter at the task at hand.

Moments passed and we were finished with his project.

“Wow, that was beautiful” He said in awe as he looked back at some of his prized shots while I continued to sway in the liquid.

He placed his camera in a dry place, reaching for the nearest towel.

Reaching for my hand, he aided in helping me out of the safe haven. I realised later that my skin was visible through the saturated material. Nipples apparent and erect. His eyes darkened before me as he wrapped the cotton cloth around my frame. Pulling me closer, he looked down on me with eyes that had a motive.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do”

Before I could speak, I felt pressure against my lips. Soft, subtle even pressure, against my lips. He was cruel. I found myself melting into his mouth, wanting more than just a chaste kiss. His firm hands snaked around my hips, allowing the cloth to fall at our feet. Gripping tightly, I yelped, earning him access to explore my moist cavern. Knots found their way into my abdomen. I was excited as a thick fog claimed my vision.

In that moment, I did not give Jimin a second thought. It had been so long since I’d be touched like this, felt wanted like this. Taehyung respected my space, time and individualism. He was enticing, comforting and appreciative. God, he was a bastard for that.

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raendown · 7 years ago

Link

Look I’m sorry, okay? I lied, I’m not sorry.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2837 Story summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 7

A bad feeling settled over him right away when Hashirama sent someone to fetch him from the park. He wasn’t even supposed to be watching the boy who was clinging to his leg, he’d just seen his clan Head walking by as he was playing and had attached himself to his favorite babysitter. It took a couple minutes to convince the kid to go back to his mother and when he did Madara hurried away with Kagami held tight. He dearly wished he knew what it was about himself that kids loved – so he could viciously smother that quality and expel it from his life. He just wanted a rest. Now free, Madara made his way to the Hokage’s Tower with utmost haste.

Ten minutes later he wished he had walked slower or perhaps not made it there at all. Kagami wriggled in his arms, blissfully unaware of the news which had just come crashing down upon Madara’s shoulders, news which affected him so closely.

“I’m so sorry Madara,” Hashirama murmured. The words were a poor consolation but it was all he had to offer. He knew how much his friend hated flowery, insincere platitudes.

“Were the scouts certain?” Madara asked, his eyes on the child in his arms. “Is there any possibility they misidentified the bodies?”

“The woman who found them was a close personal friend.”

“Ah.”

Luckily there was a chair just behind him because Madara failed to check for one before he allowed his body to sag backwards. He plopped down on to the cushion with little grace, his expression glassy and distant.

It was strange now, receiving news of a death. There had been a point in his life when he had come to expect it, when war raged around him each and every day, making death almost commonplace in a way it should never be. But now they were a village and life was supposed to be more peaceful. It was more peaceful. And that was probably why it struck him so hard to hear that not one but two members of his clan had lost their lives in battle not a day’s journey from home. There hadn’t been an Uchiha death for the past nine months and he’d allowed his heart to grow complacent. The walls he’d built against this grief were weakened.

“What will happen to the child?” Hashirama pushed himself away from the desk to come brush his fingers against Kagami’s cheeks. “Does he have any other family to go to?”

“No, neither of them had any siblings and neither of their parents survived the clan wars.”

“So what happens, then?”

“I don’t know.”

Madara offered Kagami his finger as he had seen Tobirama do, letting him suckle on the tip to keep him happy until he could go home and find him a bottle. It was nearly time for his next feeding. His diaper should probably be checked as well; it had been a while since his last change. Had he remembered to pick up more diapers like Izuna reminded him yesterday before leaving?

He could tell what his mind was doing, concentrating on anything else that it could to avoid the fallout of what was happening around him. In the past he had scorned others for being unable to handle bad news and always told them in cold tones to be stronger, a better shinobi, that death touched everyone and no one should allow themselves to fall apart over something like this. Those times seemed like a horrible memory of another person from another time. Madara could hardly imagine how he had made them feel. Had he so easily forgotten how it felt when his own brother’s died? This pain was nothing compared to that and yet still it left holes in his chest, a tightness in his lungs.

The world felt unsteady around him as he stood from his seat, Hashirama scurrying to give him the room to do so. His steps didn’t quite stumble as he made his way out of the office he had only arrived in a few minutes ago but he certainly wasn’t walking the straightest line he ever had before. Seeing that there was little he could do, Hashirama refrained from following.

Madara intended to go home, he really did. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to detour through the market place instead. Perhaps it was the way the noise of the crowds drowned out all the thoughts in his head. Or perhaps it was the way his eyes kept searching every face he passed, almost expecting a certain couple to appear from behind each new gaggle of shoppers and greet him with the same grateful smiles they always had.

Tobirama found him not half an hour later. He was standing between a fruit stand and a woman selling handwoven crafts, staring at the back of a stranger’s head and willing them to turn around. Their looks were so similar to the ones he kept hoping to find. When Tobirama stepped in front of him Madara didn’t have the energy to be startled; he simply blinked and drew his brows together in a helpless look. Warm hands settled under his own, cradling the child that he had only distantly noted was starting to squirm with hunger and relieving him of his burden.

“Come on, let’s get you both home.” Tobirama’s voice was gentler than he had ever heard it before.

“He doesn’t have a home anymore,” Madara murmured.

“We’ll find him one.”

Madara allowed the other man to guide him around with one hand, the other holding the baby to his chest. He let himself be led all the way home and in to the house. It felt as though he had just sat down on the couch before Tobirama had Kagami in the playpen and a mug of steaming tea on the coffee table for him. When Tobirama sat down next to him he didn’t try to stop himself from leaning a bit closer.

“Your brother told you,” he surmised, still trying to distract himself.

“He did. I thought you might wish for some company. Though, if I’ve overstepped my bounds I can go if you wish.”

“Stay.” Madara took a sip of tea and watched Kagami play with the mobile hanging from one side of his play area. “It’s nice not to be alone.”

“Would you prefer Izuna? I could find him.”

Tea almost slopped on to his fingers when he shook his head, making him realize that his hands were already shaking. “He accepted another mission. Won’t be back for a solid month this time.” His breath was shaking as well when he gave a small sigh. “I don’t…I…he’s got no one now. His parents are dead. Kagami’s parents are dead. What do I do? He’s all alone.”

He was grateful when the mug was taken from him before he could drop it on himself. Warmth engulfed his hands and he realized that Tobirama was holding them in his own. He should have protested, should have yelled indignantly about proper boundaries and behaviors. Instead he leaned just a little farther to the left; his side was warm too.

“Aniki has been working on setting up an official orphanage for the village.” Tobirama told him. “Does your clan have any system in place for when this happens?”

“Our families are so large this usually doesn’t happen. There’s almost always a relative, even if a distantly related one. His situation is so unusual for us.” Extremely unusual considering the Uchiha propensity for mating like bunny rabbits, a habit born from too many years at war. Clan members were expected to produce as many sons and daughters as possible to be sacrificed to the battlefields, a way of life they had lived with for so long they had stopped seeing the horror in it.

“Do you know of anyone who would be willing to take him in?”

Madara gulped, looking urgently between Tobirama and the tiny, helpless baby waving chubby arms around in the playpen. “I don’t want him to go,” he admitted quietly. Tobirama nodded slowly, giving his words the solemn consideration they required.

“You know what that would mean, right? That wouldn’t be eternal babysitting Madara that would be permanent fatherhood. You can’t just stop being a father when you get tired or bored or overwhelmed. You can ask for help, of course, but-”

“I know that. I know he would be here forever and I…do you think I would be good at it?”

“At being a father?”

“Yes.”

Tobirama gave him the slightest smile, a sad yet tender expression. “I think you would need a lot of help but yes. You would be a good father. Anyone can see how fond you are of the children under your care, even when you pretend that you aren’t.”

“Thank you,” Madara murmured, looking away to hide his suddenly glowing cheeks. Such praise from Tobirama was more than he expected. The more he thought about it the more it felt right and he knew this was the path he wanted to take. He wanted to give Kagami a home here. He wanted to raise him and love him and watch with pride as he grew up to be a wonderful shinobi – no, a wonderful person.

“Do you think you’ll be okay until Izuna gets home?” Tobirama’s words froze him.

“Oh. Oh fire nuts…”

“Putting aside your terrible swearing-”

“There is a baby right there!”

“Is there anyone else that could come help out if you need it until he gets back?”

Madara bit down on both of his lips, his eyebrows slowly climbing upwards as he turned to give the man beside him a pitifully hopeful look. It took a moment for Tobirama to look away from where he had begun to watch Kagami playing but as soon as he did his eyes blew wide.

“What.” His voice was flat, making it more of a statement than a question.

“You help all the time anyway,” Madara pointed out. “You like Kagami. And!” He retrieved one of his hands only to use it to poke the younger man in his distractingly solid chest. “You’re the one who said you were ‘warming up to me’. Why don’t you want to help now?”

“I don’t think you quite understand what you’re asking, so in the case of any complaints I reserve the right to remind you that this was your own idea.”

A confused look of his face, Madara tilted his head to one side. “Uh, okay.” That struck him as an odd stipulation to make but it seemed fair so he let it pass. What mattered was that Tobirama appeared to have agreed to helping him out with the latest adventure he had somehow wandered his way in to. He had agreed to teach Madara how to be a good father.

There were still a lot of things that needed to be done about the situation: the affairs of the deceased would need to be settled, any will they might have written would need to be enacted, their possessions would need sorting and redistributing. As clan Head it was Madara’s responsibility to at least delegate these tasks. He knew that Kagami’s possessions – clothes, toys, bottles – would all be moved to his own abode. He would need to make room for them all.

For some reason all he could think was that he would no longer have a spare bedroom. Now it would be Kagami’s bedroom. Should he paint it?

All of that could wait, though. Hashirama was still looking in to who had killed the two they had lost and their deaths had yet to be formally announced. Madara would need to shore up his defenses before he had to face the public again. He was the leader, the one whom others were supposed to look up to and take example from. He might have sympathy for how they felt now but that didn’t mean he was free to fall apart in front of them; he still had to be strong for his clan.

“They were good people,” he said out of nowhere. Tobirama squeezed the one hand he still held.

“I never met them but I trust your judgement. I’m sure they were both wonderful, exemplary members of the Uchiha clan.”

“They were,” Madara insisted, unsure why he felt so defensive on their behalf.

“And I’m sure they will be missed.”

“They will.”

“By you.”

“I don’t miss anyone. I hate people. You’re all stupid.”

“Madara.” He looked over reluctantly to see Tobirama giving him a serious look, one that seemed to burn through him with things he couldn’t even identify through the maelstrom inside. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Without giving much thought to why, Madara believed him. He closed his eyes, first looking away and then quickly turning back to bury his head in Tobirama’s shoulder. Both men held perfectly still as he let himself mourn at last. He didn’t cry – there were too many years of training ingrained in him for the tears to even physically come now – but he let his heart spill itself over behind his ribcage and reach out for the comfort that was being offered to him. His head pressed harder against his companion’s shoulder as he mentally curled in to a ball and wondered why so many good things only ever seemed to come about after such terrible tragedies.

Tobirama said nothing while he took his time, which Madara was grateful for. He could feel the younger man’s thumb stroking the back of his hand and concentrated on that, how it tapped in time with his calming heartbeat.

It was about twenty minutes before he raised his head again and other than that thumb Tobirama didn’t so much as twitch the entire time. When he sat up straight Madara took a deep breath to steady himself. He felt more centered now, less like the ground was tilting under his feet and more like he was capable of taking on the hurdles before him.

“Better?” Tobirama asked. Madara nodded.

“I was supposed to feed Kagami,” he said off-handedly. See? He was being a responsible father already.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it.”

With one final squeeze to his hand Tobirama let go and stood up to head for the kitchen. Madara felt abruptly bereft without his touch. He rubbed at his now cold arm to try and push the feeling away. There was no reason to feel lonely all of sudden. Tobirama was still here, he’d just popped out to the kitchen.

Indeed, the other man returned in under a minute with a bottle and a smile. He headed straight for the playpen to fetch the baby then returned to the couch. Madara refused to shift over to give him more room, which pressed their sides together again. Neither of them mentioned it. Silence reigned as Kagami sucked at his bottle enthusiastically, entirely unconcerned with anything that wasn’t filling his belly. Madara envied him his carefree ignorance.

After his meal and a good burping Kagami sat on Tobirama’s lap and played with the end of his obi, waving it about and doing his best to chew on the light yellow material despite not having any teeth yet. Tobirama pinched his cheek lightly.

“We’ll have to make sure he has some teething toys soon. He’s about due for them.”

“What’s a teething toy?”

“For him to chew on while his first teeth are coming in. It helps relieve the discomfort.”

Madara frowned thoughtfully and tilted his head. He vaguely remembered Izuna with a smooth wooden ring that he had chewed on constantly at around eight months old. To be honest he hadn’t thought much of it. Babies put stuff in their mouths all the time.

Although he would never admit it out loud, he was more grateful than he had words for that Tobirama had agreed to help him. With him as backup, Madara was sure that he and Kagami would be just fine. He almost couldn’t wait to learn more. Being attracted to men rather than women, he’d never even considered the possibility of having children of his own one day. It was why he’d never bothered to learn anything about them until one day he found himself an unwitting babysitter drowning in snotty noses and tiny humans who needed more to eat than some poorly slices apples.

Now here he was jumping in with both feet and it wasn’t as scary as one would have expected it to be. He didn’t know enough and Madara was well aware of that. But, glancing sideways at Tobirama as he smiled down at the baby and tickled his feet, he thought there was a pretty good chance that everything was going to turn out okay.

“We can go pick some up tomorrow.”

So long as he could continue to rely on the man next to him, Madara felt like he could do pretty much anything.

#the more we get together #rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #kagami #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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realityextinct · 7 years ago

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Reinhard/Kircheis fanfic - Bury, Stand Beside...

Summary: It was what happened next that made Kircheis remember even to this very day. Until that day and beyond, it would not be repeated again. Before and after that, their time spent together was more than enough. In a way, one could muse that this decision ruined the evening altogether and regretfully, Kircheis would have agreed, if not for what the later half of the evening rewarded him with... What he saw...made the entire evening stand out in his memory forever.

Pairings: implied!Reinhard/Kircheis

Rating: NC-17

Status: Complete

Warnings: it’s not what you think, but for the sake of not ruining the story, that’s all I am going to say...

Word count: 1,793

Thinking back, Kircheis could still not find the exact reason as to why the events trespassed in the way that they did. Maybe it was alcohol, the fine wine that they were consuming with not a care for the aftermath. Perhaps it was the quiet atmosphere of the evening in which he and Lord Reinhard were drowning in the fond memories, in the times long past...the times when life was much simpler. Kircheis couldn't remember the private room they occupied, for it was no different from the usual luxury he grew accustomed to, which followed Lord Reinhard wherever he went. No, Kircheis' focus was not on luxury, but rather on the radiance and passion with which his Lord seemed to be talking, the frequent laughs that followed, the constant sipping of the white wine it accompanied...and the night sky of endless stars in full view through the window right behind him.

Indeed, this scene was a fine work of art...a masterpiece all on its own. If Kircheis were a painter, or exhibited any interest in the field, this would be his first ever work. Even now, the beauty of it shone greatly in his memory. Somehow, that scene alone was the embodiment of everything he stood for - his entire life, his goals, dreams that coincided with Lord Reinhard's...everything.

Someday, he knew for certain... This scene would become reality. The message was clear... Lord Reinhard would rule the universe.

"Are you listening, Kircheis?"

Ah, how embarrassing... Kircheis was so entranced by the view before him that he didn't realize he spaced out for a few seconds, "I beg your pardon, my Lord. I got lost in my musings momentarily."

"You do not need to apologize, Kircheis. Memories tend to do so," and Reinhard raised his glass in a toast. Who was Kircheis to not reciprocate?

It was what happened next that made Kircheis remember even to this very day. Until that day and beyond, it would not be repeated again. Before and after that, their time spent together was more than enough. In a way, one could muse that this decision ruined the evening altogether and regretfully, Kircheis would have agreed, if not for what the later half of the evening rewarded him with...for perhaps everything he went through prior to that. What he saw...made the entire evening stand out in his memory forever.

Still...what he, and Lord Reinhard as well he assumed, learned from that... Was all they needed during quiet evenings such as that, which later would become much rarer, was each other and their memories.

Kircheis did not remember the exact conversation, words or actions, anything that indicated for what was to come... All he knew was...the scene of a child-like smiling Lord Reinhard somehow transitioned into a moaning woman he held for the night.

It was nothing unusual, was the conclusion he could make now. They were much younger and while he never took Lord Reinhard for a man to easily give into sexual desires, one had to start somewhere. Kircheis was unsure whether this was true or not, but he felt like...that quiet evening turned sensual was the first time for both of them. It was certainly a first time for him. He spent almost every second with the Lord so he could guess he was right in his assumptions, but there was no way to prove it for certain.

Having finished the military school, eagerly awaiting their first battles, who was to say they were not feeling excited and adventurous?

But why it had to happen that night and why there were no signs from Lord Reinhard having planned this... Kircheis did not know. Not that it mattered at this point in time.

In a way, he felt like he was entitled to know when they would have surprise guests. On the other hand, and this Kircheis took into account in the future, he should be prepared for any surprises. Being one step ahead...was something Lord Reinhard was always good at. So he had to learn from his example and strife to reach the same, to be on par with him, but...never ahead. Definitely, he did not wish to be ahead.

So perhaps it was not so weird that it was Lord Reinhard who pulled one over on him so easily..? Kircheis had complete trust in him. His devotion to Lord Reinhard exceeded all boundaries.

Indeed, perhaps Kircheis was being too harsh on himself over seemingly nothing. Yet...he still treated this as a lesson for himself to become more insightful and as such, mentally stronger.

For both their sakes.

What he felt that evening was...unlike anything else he felt before in his life. Comparing it to the night when Lord Reinhard pledged to take over the universe...would be tasteless, because the two feelings were different. That night presented him with his lifelong goal, his reason for existence. And this night...fulfilled not only his short-lasting desires, but perhaps...opened a window to an unexplored territory of feelings. Feelings he did not ever consider...and would bury as soon as they came. Or...keep them close to his heart, locked away from anyone else for all eternity.

And what a warm, tender feeling it was.

The woman in his arms. She was beautiful, no question about it. The long blond locks fell over her breasts and sheets, making Kircheis think of Annerose, but he quickly discarded that thought. The skin was soft and the air around her was pleasant. Each moan that left her lips drove him further into lust, overriding his senses. He did not kiss her, no. He had no wish to do so...but what she gave him was more than enough.

And this would have been the end of this evening, with nothing else to add, if...he didn't head a moan come from the woman his Lord held.

Indeed, both of them shared the bed as they had sex with the two women. To this day, Kircheis was not sure how this arrangement could be made possible. They may be best of friends, but Reinhard was still his Lord...and while they slept together plenty of times as kids, this was obviously different. In any other case, if it was anyone else, he would have been thought to have disgraced and disrespected his Lord and his privacy.

But again, all Kircheis could conclude was...they were drunk and driven by lust. And they were still best of friends. On occasion, he was called Lord Reinhard's shadow, surely this was nothing to think over.

Yet...the embarrassment was far too real. His dignified, proud soul...could never let himself get over this so easily. Kircheis has allowed himself a moment of weakness...it went without saying that this would not be repeated again.

What he remembered next from that night...was how his eyes met with Lord Reinhard's. The blissful, overridden with lust expression that he gave him...the way he panted and smiled soon after their gazes met... It made Kircheis cum the very next second. More than that... He and the woman lay on their sides, with her back to his chest so he did not need to see her face for he did not wish to...the fact he ended up facing Lord Reinhard's side was pure coincidence...one that made a quite an unexpected turn. Still on edge, Kircheis grabbed hold of the woman's legs firmly and spread them wider, pounding hard into her with no restraint. He heard and saw nothing else...apart from Lord Reinhard. He breathed and lived for no one else...but Lord Reinhard.

And everything was happening in slow motion. Kircheis could not speak for the Lord, but the way Reinhard never once looked away from him as the woman rode him...made Kircheis think that his Lord, just maybe, felt the same way he did.

And at that moment...they were finally whole. They were one.

Yet... It was never spoken of again. Even if...for certain, they both remembered. Kircheis remembered it clearly, as if it happened yesterday...yet it has already been a few years since then.

Only Lord Reinhard could leave such a lasting impact on him...only him.

The next day, Reinhard was kneeling in front of a surprised Lord Reinhard. Kircheis was silent, but it was no secret as to what he felt...embarrassment was one thing, but the feeling that he has committed something undignified, something that would tarnish his Lord's name or pride...it was unforgivable of not just a subject, but a friend. And having so openly, without a shred of guilt or modesty, sexualized his Lord, taking advantage of him at such a vulnerable time... Whether drunk or not, whether he harbored deep feelings, it did not matter. Nothing did. He preferred to be punished than to live with this guilt.

Lord Reinhard certainly knew how he felt. He knew his feelings concerning the entire situation well. It came with no surprise that Lord Rreinhard could read him easily, and thus he said, "You are truly an amazing friend, Kircheis."

"My Lord, I--" Kircheis was stunned, to say the least, finally looking up at his Lord, who was sited with legs crossed and chin prompted, looking down at him with a stern and calm expression.

"Did you not like my gift, Kircheis? It would be a shame...since it was rather costly."

Yes, back then, they did not have much to speak of in terms of wealth, but they were getting there... Still, to disregard such a generous present from his Lord would have been outrageous all the same.

And as such, Kircheis was conflicted. But...one thing was certain... Lord Reinhard was not upset with his lewd and daring behavior yesterday. And Kircheis dared to conclude once more, that perhaps...Lord Reinhard...wished for it?

But Kircheis did not allow his thoughts to wander any further into such a questionable territory, lowering his head once more as he let out, "Lord Reinhard!" showing he was thankful, with every fiber of his soul.

Reinhard simply nodded and dismissed him. And Kircheis was thankful...for he needed to think over the entire situation and...get over it.

And he did, on the outside at least. Inwardly...he found his thoughts constantly wandering back to that night. And...nothing more.

Nothing more was necessary. While it seemed he would never get his answer, he was still by Lord Reinhard's side...and that was all that mattered.

Yet again, despite being in the midst of battle, consulting at Lord Reinhard's side on the situation, he momentarily fell back into his memory once more. A very fond memory indeed...

One he kept under lock and key in his heart. Peeking into it, but...again, nothing more.

And despite endless rumors surrounding Lord Reinhard, Kircheis knew for certain...

That ever since then, Lord Reinhard has never held a woman again.

And...neither has he.

The End.

#reinhard von lohengramm #siegfried kircheis #kircheis x reinhard #reinhard/kircheis #legend of galactic heroes #logh fanfic #other writing

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sending-the-message · 7 years ago

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Choose a job you love, and you’ll never work a day – or sleep a night – in your life by otis_operandi

I take pride in what I do, because I perform a service that most can’t. It takes a particular sort of person to be an interrogator for the CIA’s counterterrorism division. I tap into a deeper part of myself – a primordial, predatory part – and in doing so I protect a society where people like you can forget that such a part of themselves exists at all. I’m not a monster; the first time I pulled a man’s fingernails off, I broke down in the bathroom, shaking and vomiting. You swear in that moment that you’ll never resort to such brutality again. But then another subject is brought in, one who was preparing to blow up a school, or one who was shipping radioactive material to build dirty bombs. Who else is involved? Who’s funding them? The answers become more important than what you once thought were your moral boundaries. Mine have broken down, but I’ve drawn new ones; the information is all that I care about, information that will save lives. The road to get that information may be paved with broken human teeth, but I always give my subjects a choice: Once they give me the answers I need, the pain stops. I find that the most humane approach is to help the subject make that choice as rapidly as possible.

You’d be surprised how quickly you become used to it. Maybe the only thing that still bothers me is just how used to it I’ve become. They’re animals, you think, they planned the deaths of hundreds of innocent people. Stopping them is paramount, of course. But you begin to wonder, Is prison enough? Is death enough? Why should they leave the world in comfort, when their victims would have suffered, their victims’ families would have suffered? A tiny voice in your head says they deserve it, and that voice grows bigger, louder, stronger. It communes with a deeper anger, an older justice, the justice of a deserving windpipe collapsing under your hands. They’re the same hands that I stroke my wife’s hair with at night. So I quiet the voice, and I temper my anger, and I focus on the information, and I do what I can to accept it. I’m pretty good at accepting it. Or I was, before I started working with Sam.

“Bryant, I wouldn’t bring the asset in again if you had something to give me. It’s been a week. We need to move,” Director Strickland said, her gaunt frame almost swallowed by the high-backed chair she reclined in.

“Ma’am, I-“

“You will assist the asset in whatever capacity you are able.” She said. She leaned forward, interlocking her carefully manicured hands and resting her elbows on the desk. Her sharp nose stood out like the beak of some gray-haired vulture surveying a meal that even it finds distasteful. Her disgust for me was obvious, but she had never had to do what I did. Not with those prim hands.

She nodded toward the plastic pistol sitting alone on her bare desk. It fit perfectly inside a specially designed laptop, and fired reinforced composite bullets. “Do you honestly think the TSA will catch these?”

“He’s close to talking. Give me another day.”

“This isn’t a discussion, Agent Bryant. The asset will be here in two hours.”

I paused. Strickland’s distaste for the specifics of my work afforded me freedom, but when she was determined to intercede, I had little chance of changing her mind. Sam disgusted her in ways I never could, and she hadn’t made this choice lightly. Nor had she lost sight of that fact that her hand had been forced by my own failure. It was rare that I failed, and I felt my face warming.

“At the very least, can we agree that this time, Sam will not keep the subject after the interrogation?” I asked, grimacing.

“The handlers insist that to ensure cooperation of the asset… It is preferable that we relinquish custody of the subject.”

“Just how much cooperation can you ensure? You don’t have to be in that room. I do. You haven’t seen it happen.”

Strickland’s face twitched slightly, then she turned to look out the window. “Sam will do whatever we ask,” she said. “We have her parents.”

The interrogation room was claustrophobic by design. Subjects are more compliant when they feel penned in – now I was penned in with Sam. I positioned myself in the corner, as far from her as I could get, trying to sink into the concrete. We’d used a bigger room the last time Sam had come, and she hadn’t seemed to notice me. I said a silent prayer that she would ignore me this time as well. She stood only as high as my belt. I doubted that she was more than seven, but with the way she acted… It was hard to guess. She stood motionless just inside the door, right where her handlers had left her when they locked her in. Locked her in with me, damnit. One of her hands twirled a strand of the short black hair that curled around her head in disarray, like a miniature storm cloud.

“Tell me who your buyer is, Calvin.” I said it with all the finality I could muster. It was off. I heard the hint of desperation that had crept into my voice, and silently cursed myself for it.

Calvin looked from me to the girl, standing in her bright yellow dress. He wriggled against the handcuffs that held him to his chair, unsure. His eyes moved in quick darts, hardly visible, wet little beads set into black and purple craters of my own creation. His front teeth were missing – Well, not missing. I knew where they were.

“What did I tell you about choices, Calvin? None of this had to happen. Nothing more has to. Tell us who the guns are for.”

“The fuck ith thith?” he said. “For the fuckin’ thouthandth time, I dunno anything. They never thet up a pickup.”

Calvin was no zealot, no cultist, no fanatic. He had no qualms about selling to them, though. That much we knew. Whoever his customer was, he was still more afraid of them than he was of me. I had no doubt that Sam would change that. God, why can’t someone else be in here with her? Why me?

Sam smoothed her dress and stepped one bare foot toward him. He struggled for a moment, squinted through his bruises, then said, “Thith bitch… ith a fuckin’ kid. Whatha fuck?”

Sam laughed. It was a sharp, melodic sound that made my skin prickle. I remembered it all too well.

“Last chance Calvin.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was too late. I refocused my efforts toward shrinking into my corner.

Sam spoke, a tiny, high voice, almost too soft to make out. “You sound funny.”

“Fuck off! What ith thith sthit?” I saw from the corner of my eye that Calvin was addressing me, but I focused on Sam. You don’t worry about a mouse when a wolf is loose.

Sam continued toward Calvin, her eyes never leaving him. “Sing for me,” she said.

Calvin’s mouth snapped opened, and as it did, his eyes widened in shock, cracking the scabs there and sending little rivulets of blood trickling down his cheeks. His mouth didn’t mind. It was busy singing, and the song was tuneless, wordless, insane…. Nothing more than a modulated moan. It went on and on, hollow, and Sam swayed to its rhythm until Calvin’s breath was gone. He didn’t take another, but instead began to thrash against his handcuffs, his mouth and throat still moving in silent patterns. His face darkened to match the shade around his eyes, a purplish-blue.

“Shhh.” Sam said, and Calvin sucked in a huge breath, coughing and heaving. She was close enough to touch him now, and he struggled harder to push his chair back with his bound feet.

“Get me outta here man!” he cried, craning his neck away, “Thith ithn’t-“

“Look at me,” she said, and he did. She was leaning in now, grinning, her face was only inches from his. Calvin stared into her wide eyes as his feet still skittered on the floor. He was against the wall, now. There was nowhere to go.

Sam raised her eyebrows in exaggerated puzzlement. “You left her!” She exclaimed.

“Wh… who? How-“

“You left your mommy all alone in that trailer. She was so sick.” Sam paused, tilting her head to the side, staring harder at him. “Bugs ate her,” she concluded.

Calvin’s thrashing had stopped now, and he began screaming. His left hand wriggled furiously as his shoulder jackhammered up and down, smashing it against the handcuff. The skin peeled away, and with a sucking, tearing sound, the his arm was free from the cuff, his hand a bare red mess striped by white tendons. An even larger smile spread across Sam’s face as the hand, seemingly of its own volition, began to spider-walk up Calvin’s torso, leaving a trail of bloody fingerprints, oblivious to the arm that still connected it to his shoulder. He screamed again as his hand dug its nails into the soft flesh of his neck and came away with dripping chunks of skin.

“I think being eaten by bugs is icky.” Sam stated as Calvin’s hand mauled his neck, peeling it away one piece at a time. Tears and blood streamed down his face. “You could have stayed with her… A coyote came too.” She was calm, happy, so close to him that flecks of blood stippled her dark skin.

The red hand jerked with frenzied energy. It grabbed Calvin’s collar bone and twisted until a wet CRACK sounded, then it turned to his right eye, clawing into the socket.

“Argh! God, thtop! Oh God thtop!” he screamed.

Sudden realization tore my mind out of its morbid fascination. Information. We need the information. I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the walls, to get the fuck out of the room, but he would be beyond speaking soon. It would all be for nothing if he didn’t talk. “Calvin, who are the guns for?” I shouted. He screamed incoherently. “Tell me and it stops!” I said.

It did stop. The hand dropped the mangled eyeball and hung from the socket with two bloody fingers.

Calvin muttered the names through sobs. I recognized some of them, ISIS sympathizers we’d been tracking. “King’s Bay... November third… Offthore.” He moaned. It was enough – we had it. The recorders had gotten it all. Then I noticed.

Sam was staring at me. Fuck.

She turned back to Calvin, and for a moment, I thought I was saved. As he slumped in his chair, she whispered to him, almost too quietly for me to hear, “You’re my friend now.” He stiffened, then sat upright. He lay his skinless hand in his lap and looked expectantly at her with his remaining eye, oblivious to the blood running down his face and neck, soaking his jumpsuit. She turned back to me.

“I like to play,” she said, smiling. Her teeth were splattered with his blood. “Do you like to play?”

“I… This is important work Sam. You should…” I nodded toward Calvin. She stepped toward me, her bare toes squelching in the blood pooled around his chair.

“He’s okay now. I think that you like to play.”

“Sam, I need you to-“ Her eyes widened with surprise and her mouth dropped open, gaping with joy.

“You do!” she said. “You love to play. I see it. But you lie. You lie about it all the time.”

I regretted my position in the corner now. There was no place to move except closer to her. The door- I could almost make it to the door. But I knew it was locked, and in the time that it would take me to find the key…

“What about the dog?” Sam asked, her face beaming with curiosity.

“… What dog?” I managed.

“The one your mommy’s special friend found.” God, it had been years since I’d thought of that. How old could I have been? Nine, ten?

“That dog was sick. It bit me. I… had to...” I said, pressing back into the corner.

Sam shook her head slowly, a frown overtaking the smile. “No… no no. That dog didn’t like you.” She paused, appraising me with her gleaming eyes. Had I seen her blink yet? “Lots of people don’t like you.”

“Sam, you need to stop.” I tried again to find my voice of command, to remember that she was under our control.

“And later, when your mommy’s special friend kept hitting her… Why didn’t you help her?”

“Enough.” Please, I thought. Let her go back to Calvin.

“But you’re sooo close. If you’d stop lying we could play together.” She smiled again, almost bashfully. “We’d have so much fun.”

“Enough!” I shouted, and started forward, hoping to try my chances with the door.

Sam didn’t flinch. She just murmured, “No,” and suddenly my legs were lead, my arms carved from wood. I stood like a dumb statue. She looked up at me and giggled. It sounded like tiny glass bells ringing, ringing until they cracked and shattered.

“We have your parents,” I yelled. “You can’t hurt me, or we’ll-“

“Shhhhh,” she put a tiny finger to her lips, and my throat hardened to stone.

Her smile had faded, and she reached the finger out, curling it, beckoning me down. I felt my knees bending, bringing me closer to her even as I ordered them back. BACK, damn it, further into the corner! But I was kneeling, my face level with hers. A look of worry filled her round eyes, her eyebrows raised in cartoonish concern. She brought her lips to my ear. Her breath was warm against it, and I begged, God, don’t let her touch me. Please don’t let her touch me.

In that instant, fragmentary images formed in my mind. A dark alley cuts between looming skyscrapers, packed with overflowing dumpsters. There is a child in the alley, naked, filthy, barely old enough to walk. She stands on unsteady legs, clutching the remnants of a decaying tire for support. People pass by on the street beyond, busy people, their eyes locked forward, walking with purpose. The child makes a noise, nothing more than a fragile moan. A man in a grey coat stops and gazes into the alley. Transfixed. A woman is with him, and she pulls his arm, trying to drag him forward. He won’t move. The child mewls again, and the woman stops pulling. They enter the alley, approach the child…

The image was gone, and there was only the white light of the interrogation room, the dripping of Calvin’s blood, the hot breath of Sam’s tiny mouth on my ear.

“Those people you have aren’t my parents,” she whispered.

She kept me like that, mute, kneeling in the corner, while she finished with Calvin. The spreading pool of his blood had nearly reached me by the time she finally grew bored. Then she commanded him to tear his remaining hand free, and held it in her own as she led him out of the room. Her handlers unlocked the door the moment she approached it and swept Sam and her new prize out of the facility. Only when she was gone did the awful force release me, and I stumbled to my feet, through the blood, out of the room.

“You don’t have her under control at all,” I said as I burst into Strickland’s office, “Those people you have? They’re not her parents.“

Strickland looked up from the papers she held and locked me in her vulture’s glare. Perhaps I seemed slightly more appetizing now that I felt nearly dead. “Get control of yourself, Bryant,” she said. “Of course we have her parents. How else would we have any control over an asset of that… nature?”

I swallowed, shaking my head. “You’re wrong. She told me. She showed me.”

“Then why, exactly, is she cooperating with us?”

“I… I don’t know ma’am.”

Strickland stared at me, and I saw that the disgust was still there. She lumped me in with that… creature. Whatever that girl was. I’m nothing like her. What I do is for the good of the country. What I do is just. That dog… It was rabid, it must have been. My mother… that man… he was too strong. What could I do?

“All you need to concern yourself with, Agent Bryant, is your job. If you did it better, we wouldn’t have to use Sam, would we?”

The little voice was whispering inside me. Strickland didn’t know. How could she? The old bitch could give orders all she wanted, but until she was there, in one of those rooms, with someone else’s blood under those perfect nails… I turned and walked from her office without a word.

I jammed my hands deep into my pockets as I walked, trying to accept, trying to quiet the voice. There was something in my right pocket. Smooth, hard objects, no bigger than… Teeth. They were Calvin’s front teeth. Why had I kept them? At the time, it had seemed so… fitting. A scalp, trophy, a testament to an older justice.

You like to play, the voice said.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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