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crashdevlin · 4 years ago

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Opposites Don’t Attract (A Witcher Fic)

Author’s Note: This was written while I was fighting Covid19...so I’m pretty proud of that. I'm aware that not everyone likes the Witcher but this was the only thing that would could out of my head that week so...

I took bits of lore from the show, the books, and the games and mixed them all up into a cohesive awesomeness...also, the smut is pretty good, but the banter is where it's at with this one. If you guys like this, I might make it a series...so, let me know how you're feeling on it.

Summary: Y/n is a witcher from the Cat School (a nomadic school that is one of the few that actually makes female witchers) who keeps running into Geralt of Rivia...to her great pleasure.

Pairing: Geralt x Female Witcher!Reader, mentions of Geralt x Yennefer and Geralt x Triss Merigold

Word count: 3869

Story Warnings: 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of infertility, little bit of angst (it's a Cassie story...what do you expect?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t often you crossed paths with the White Wolf. The Continent was vast and you both had work to do. But it was always a treat when you walked into a tavern and smelled the man.

"Geralt. What brings you to Kagen?" you asked, taking the stool next to him at the bar.

"A contract."

"Always so succinct, Wolf...and just a bit disrespectful. Isn't my school the one that's supposed to birth disreputable thugs?"

Amber eyes turned on you as you fiddled with your medallion, a silver coin with a cat's head on a silver chain. It hung right between your breasts and never came off.

"Here to kill a monster...or be a monster?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble.

A zing of indignant fury went through you but you stifled it instinctively. "I haven't taken a contract against a human in nearly twenty years. I've learned the error of my ways. I told you as such when we met last. Remember? The bard's impromptu celebration in Lyria." He grunted softly at you and looked away. "You do remember, don't you, Geralt?"

"My memory is fine, Feline."

"Then you remember folding me in on myself and making my body quake?" You set your hand on his thigh and watched his face for a reaction.

He gave no indication he even noticed your fingers over the conditioned leather. "Since when do you call them 'humans'? When last we met, you were still calling them by the slur."

You rolled your eyes. "That was a single slip. Another thing I've seen the error on. I've developed, I've grown. You have to admit that some things are hard to shake, like a word you shouldn't say or a prejudice you were taught as a small child. I wasn't really given a choice on who to sympathize with in the conflict. Cats and Elves, we go together. Call it a commiseration of outcasts."

He let out a long sigh before dropping his hand to yours. "You talk too much, Cat."

"Well, someone has to fill the silence around you. Jaskier doesn't seem to be around right now, so I'll take that mantle." You licked your lips and hummed as his fingertips slowly caressed the back of your hand. "I could help you fulfill your contract. Two witchers are better than one. What are you after?"

He turned his head just enough to catch your eyes. "You want to help me?"

"I want to fuck you, but I feel you're going to be distracted until you've got your coin so I might as well hasten that instance."

"Can I trust you to have my back in battle?"

You pulled your hand away and shook your head. "If I can alter my preconceived notions of humans, you can alter your notions of Felines. Or, in the very least, of me." You caught his eyes and held them without blinking. "I have known you for decades, Geralt. Can you trust me to have your back?"

He held your eyes for a few moments before he picked up his ale. "It's a graveir. Strength is more important than speed."

"Well, then I'll just have to pull its attention and hope it is hungry for witcher." You smiled. "And you can kill it before it eats me."

He smiled just a bit as he set his mug down. "Perhaps I'll let it eat you, kill it while it is sated and happy."

"Aww, but then the great White Wolf would never get to eat his fill of this Feline ever again."

He smirked as you set a coin on the bar and requested an ale of your own. "And what brought you to Kagen, Y/n?"

You smiled at the use of your name. "Tracking a man." His eyebrow went up so you clarified. "Just tracking. He's a historian. There's some question of the authenticity of some of the Aen Seidhe artifacts he's 'found'. He's at the whore house two down so I thought I'd have a drink while he was busy. A lucky stroke to find you."

"If you help me with the graveir, you might lose him."

You took a drink of your ale and turned on the stool. "You think we can't take down a graveir and have a fun night before a middle-aged human historian wakes from his well-deserved nap after a night of lust away from his wife?" You leaned next to his ear and whispered, "Are you underestimating me or yourself?"

"I could never underestimate you." He tipped his head back and finished off his ale and you chugged down your own. It was time to work.

As you moved to follow Geralt out of the tavern, a tall man with a sunburned face stepped in front of you.

"I didn't know they made witchers with tits," the foul-smelling farmer said with a guffaw at the end for good measure.

"Well, you've never seen the Butcher of Blaviken with his shirt off, have you?" you snapped, stepping away from him.

"You're a real one, then? You got the eyes, I see. They do all those mutations on you? Hear witchers are like a bitch in heat but cain't procreate. Now there's a perfect woman, right? Always ready to be filled, but never able to give me any more little brats."

Geralt sneered at the man's words but you just shook your head. "I guarantee no woman wants to be filled by you or your brats. Especially not this woman."

The drunk looked offended for a moment before he scoffed. "You're not a woman. You're a fuckin' mutant. Wouldn't want your-"

A blade was in your hand and held against his throat in a flash. "I'm a fucking mutant and a fucking woman and I want nothing to do with you."

"Apologize," Geralt demanded, quiet and intent.

The drunk looked down at the knife and blinked a few times, then nodded. "Sorry."

Your blade was back in its sheath on your hip before he could take another breath. "Let's go, Geralt."

"Hmm." He pulled open the large wooden door and walked out, you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"When's the last time you saw the Caravan?" Geralt asked as you headed for the woods.

"You really don't think I've changed, do you?" He gave a noncommittal grunt so you rolled your eyes. "Even after that slime back at the tavern? I didn’t kill him. I didn't even hurt him. I didn't even spout off and call him a...well, if anyone deserves to be slurred, it's a man like that and I held my tongue." You reached out and slapped your hand across his chain mail. "Haven’t seen hide nor hair of Dyn Marv in…"

You rubbed your fingers across your eyes and shook your head. "I abandoned the Caravan the day I met you. The ideals were harder to shirk but I left my school the moment I realized that Gezras wasn't quite the savior they claimed. You had it right. You and the others up at Kaer Morhen, you know how...how a witcher's supposed to act. You were trained in the codes and morals, I wasn't."

"No, you were trained blindfolded on a tightrope across the rooftops of Oxenfurt."

"Let it never be said that Cat School is without our flair." You smiled over at him. "And it was Oxenfurt, the Cintran Capital, and Vengerberg. Nomads and all that."

Geralt looked over at you and smiled. "I can imagine the Cintran guard were very happy to have a bunch of witchers crawling across their roofline."

"Oh none of them ever cared for having a bunch of witchers in their city let alone running training exercises across their roofs. But not a one tried to stop us. You'll recall, there was a time when most feared and respected us more than they hated us."

"I don't recall people ever fearing Cat School," he teased.

"Ah-ha, you're so hilarious, Geralt. My sides are in stitches from all this laughter," you responded dryly.

You walked in relative silence for a few moments, your boots making no sound on the tall grass. "I didn't know meeting Vesemir affected you so much," he said eventually.

"Oh, yes. It was wise old Vesemir that showed me the error of my ways, not the dashing white-haired man who rode into Novigrad after him."

"Dashing. That's a new one."

"I'm absolutely certain it is not a new one, Geralt. Not for any woman who's had the pleasure to make your acquaintance." Your cheeks heated up in a way you imagined his never did. Wolves dulled emotion. So did Bears, and Vipers, and most schools. Most pushed down emotions to make a witcher less susceptible to fear and anger and sadness. Cat School was different. You were reminded of that every time you were around Geralt. "I bet 'dashing' would be one of the first words they'd use to describe you: the Triss Merigolds and Yennefer of Vengerbergs of the world."

He looked over at you as you approached a cemetery filled with recent dead from a bandit attack on the outskirts of Kagen. "Hmm. Is that jealousy I hear?"

"No!" you responded just a little too loud. "What do I have to be jealous of? They're two supernaturally beautiful sorceresses who've been part of your life much longer than I have. Besides, none of us really gets you for more than a night or two, right?"

He grunted softly in agreement, then offered a potion from his belt. You took it and swallowed it down, feeling your already-fast reflexes get a boost. "You're supernaturally beautiful too. It will make you better graveir bait."

You couldn’t focus on the compliment he'd given you as he pointed to a bloated ghoul digging into a fresh grave with short, strong claws. He was gone by the time you looked back but you could sense him moving around the outside of the cemetery.

Normally, this was the point when you'd draw your silver; approaching a ghoul as it ripped a limb from a corpse to make its meal for the night. The sword stayed on your back with your steel, however. You were to take its attention so Geralt could kill it from behind.

It was fairly easy, actually. You and Geralt, working in tandem, had the graveir as dead as his dinner before there was a chance for real trouble. It noticed you, it rushed you, you dodged and dodged and threw a punch or three to its ugly face and then Geralt appeared in your vision and the graveir met the sharp blade of a witcher's silver sword. No muss, very little fuss, and very little blood.

"You did good as bait," Geralt commented as you walked back toward the city. "Maybe I should have you play the snack on hunts more often."

"Oh? A snack for the monsters or a snack for yourself?"

"I'm serious. We work well together."

"It's not the first time we've worked together."

There had been, in fact, two other monsters that you helped Geralt with. A wraith terrorizing a man in Novigrad that you helped him with when you first met each other and a wyvern you encountered on the road. Geralt happened to have the contract on the wyvern and showed up to take it down as you were in the midst of killing it.

He graciously shared a portion of the coin garnered from his contract.

He hummed in acknowledgement. “You should come with me.”

You stopped and turned to look at him. “What?”

“Once you’ve fulfilled your contract on the historian, you should saddle up and travel with me. You said it yourself, ‘two witchers are better than one’.”

You looked up into his eyes and blinked a few times. “You miss Vesemir so much that you would travel with me just to have another witcher at your side?”

“Why don’t we leave it at ‘I enjoy your company’?” he suggested.

You started walking again, heading toward your mare, a Konik named Daisy, and Geralt’s mare, Roach. “Will you be staying in Kagen for a while?”

“I have a room at the inn. I can stay in Kagen until you return.”

“You’re serious about me coming with you? I thought sweet nothings were whispered in the throes of passion, not in the aftermath of battle.”

“You don’t have to come with me, Y/n.”

You shook your head. “I’ll have to think about it, Geralt.” You didn’t want to anger any sorceresses. You climbed up into Daisy’s saddle and grabbed her reins. “For now, let’s go to the inn. A bath and a bed sound amazing,” you said, before riding toward the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tub was small but you weren’t large. “How do you fit in this thing?” you asked, dunking yourself under the warm water.

“I’m very good at fitting into tight spaces.” Geralt stepped up behind you and kneeled down, setting his chin on your bare shoulder. “Do you need help getting clean?”

“No. But I’d love a bit of help getting dirty again after I’m done.” He hummed and nodded, turning his head to press his lips to your neck. You hummed happily and turned your head to give a bit more access and he took the invitation, running his hand down your body and under the water. You gasped as his fingers brushed your curls. “I’m not clean yet, Geralt.”

“Clean enough.”

You pressed closer to him, arching your hips and reaching back to grab the back of his head, pulling him further down. “More,” you whispered. He chuckled, slipping a finger down to tease your entrance. “Fuck, don’t tease.”

“Why not?” He nipped at your jawline and gave a low hum. “You know...the first time I heard your voice, I knew I’d have to hear you moan.” You gasped as his finger slipped into you down to the knuckle, your fingers digging into his scalp as the heel of his palm pressed into your clit. “I knew I’d have to feel you cum on my cock when I smelled you in the heat of battle.”

You moaned at the thought of Geralt, barely knowing your name, deciding that he’d have to have you just based on scent. It was something so animalistic, so inhuman...so uniquely witcher.

You twisted in the water and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. You didn’t wait for an invitation into the cavern of his mouth, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth as he gathered your body in his arms and carried you to the lumpy bed across the room. You pushed at his clothes without breaking the kiss, desperate to taste and feel him. Your fingers skimmed across the lines of his back muscles as you pulled his shirt off. His fingertips dug into your hips and moved to put bruising pressure on your ass as you started untying his trousers.

The man was a specimen. The mages at Kaer Morhen made the best of him. You didn’t have time to examine the body and the cock that were so prominent in your wettest dreams because he was obviously just as desperate for you. He got his trousers down and reached between your bodies, taking his length in hand and smearing the head of it in the wetness seeping out of you. You were just about to start begging when he slipped his cock into your cunt.

You lifted your hips to get more of him inside of you. You needed him stretching you and stuffing you. You needed him pushing you to the absolute limits. He fit you better than any ever had.

He rocked his hips against yours, his pelvis putting pressure against your clit as his cock barely moved against your walls. You wrapped your legs around him, ankles crossed at the small of his back, urging him deeper. He growled and grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands from his shoulders to pin them to the bed above your head.

No other man could put you in such a position. No other man controlled you like Geralt. You would never think to let it happen. No man, not even another witcher, could play you like such a fine instrument. A beautiful lute.

Part of you wished you didn't heal so efficiently, so quickly. Part of you wanted to wear his marks upon you for days, but his marks, just like the scent of your coupling, faded far too quickly for your liking. It left you with nothing but the memory and that just wasn't enough. Not when the man you were remembering was so...amazing.

You whimpered out a faint request and he heeded it, slamming his hips into yours harder. You struggled against his grip, desperate to get your hands in his hair, wanting to tug on the white locks, but he refused to relinquish control of your wrists. He gave you everything you needed, but not necessarily what you wanted.

Like you wanted to hear his voice, but the only time you really needed to hear it was when he leaned down next to your ear and demanded, “Cum, Cat.” Your toes curled and your head pressed back into the pillow, your hips arching closer to his as that finally cracking pleasure fell over you. Geralt lasted a while longer before he filled you, his cock pulsing against your walls as his breath caught in his chest, fingers tightening around your wrists as he came.

He pressed sweet kisses along your jawline as he pulled his half-hard member from your dripping pussy and his hands released your wrists to slide his fingers up to entwine with yours. You ended up with your legs tangled with his, neither of you seeming to care about the wetness of sweat and cum sticky between both of your thighs. You kept one of your hands clutched in his, but pulled the other away so that you could run your fingers through his hair as you stared at the ceiling.

“Do you give it much thought?” you asked, quietly. He made a questioning noise and popped open one eyelid to look up at you from where his head was on your breast. Your cheeks heated up and you licked your lips. “What they did to us. What the mages made of us. What they took from us.”

“Took?”

“Options. The options they took from us. We were children, Geralt. We were babies. They stole…” You cut your words off with a shake of your head. “I guess I’m the only one who thinks about it...and I can’t really imagine being some normal peasant wife with a litter of children and a world of misery, but I...I guess there’s some sweetness in the simplicity of their lives, you know? And I hate that I was never given that option. I was deprived of simplicity before I was even aware there was a difference between the folk in the Caravan and the rest of the world.”

Geralt was silent, but the way his fingers tightened their grip upon your hand filled you with a sense of calm. “People hate us, Geralt. They think us heartless, emotionless, cold. I learned to fake it, because that’s what people expect from someone with two blades on their back and these lovely eyes, but-”

“Cat School doesn’t dull emotions.”

“No. Not even with training. That’s a learned reaction to the outside world. I miss Dyn Marv fiercely sometimes because it’s...lonely away from people who understand. It’s hard to walk the Continent alone.”

He closed his eye and shifted a bit against you. “Why aren’t you with them, then?”

“Differences of morality.”

He was silent for a few minutes, just the sound of your breathing filling the room. “Opposites attract.”

“What?”

“It’s something the bard says. The idiot heard it from an alchemist once and he likes to believe it applies to relationships too. It’s why he goes after beautiful, cultured, married women. ‘Opposites attract’.” He sat up and looked down into your eyes. “But it’s horseshit. We look for companions that remind us of us. It’s why all of his women are as enamored with him as he is. Opposites don’t attract, Y/n...and that’s why you are someone I can’t say ‘no’ to.”

“Because we’re so alike?” you guessed.

“Yes.”

“Just because I’ve changed though, right?”

“No. You changed because you weren’t truly that woman. You were what the mages made you. What your teachers made you. You changed when you decided to.”

You licked your lips again and sat up a bit on your elbows. “What about your sorceresses?”

He smirked a little. “I don’t have sorceresses, Y/n.”

“Lovers. Ex or current?” you simplified the question.

“Current. Obviously,” he said, sarcastic humor in his voice as he ran his hand down your body.

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the way his touch lit your skin aflame with sparks of desire. “Geralt, I’m serious. If Yennefer were to ride into Kagen right now...if she knocked on that door…”

“Yen would just walk in. She’s never been one for other peoples’ privacy.” He leaned his head down when you didn’t express amusement at his jest, pressing his forehead to yours. “I could lie.”

“Not really. You’ve not proven yourself a good liar, Wolf.”

“True. I prefer honesty.” He sighed and looked away, sitting up to lean his back against the wall.

“Would you turn her away? Would you turn away Triss?” You sighed heavily. “I’m not trying to sound...like such a sodding woman, but...Geralt, you asked me to come with you. That seems like-” His pensive face made you question what you were even trying to get at. “You know what? I think it’d be better if I just head back to my job following Professor Lery and-”

“Don’t.” He grabbed your arm as you moved to get off the bed. “I care for Triss and I think I...loved Yennefer. But I...don’t think we’ll be an option again. She’s been upset at me since Triss.”

“Won’t this-”

“Stop questioning everything.” You closed your eyes as he leaned over and kissed you again. “Stay.”

“I have to finish the contract, Geralt. I’ve already been paid a hundred-fifty gold for it.”

“Then come back,” he demanded softly.

You smiled at him and nodded, but your heart was far less resolute than you were pretending. “Of course. Don’t go anywhere.” You rolled off the bed and grabbed your trousers and shirt, dressing hastily before grabbing your swords and potion belt. You kissed him one more time before leaving the room, swiping a loaf of bread off of a table in the tavern on your way out.

You weren’t sure if you were coming back to him. You wanted nothing more, but you weren’t looking forward to the moment one of his sorceresses came to call. “I’ll decide while I finish this job,” you told your horse, patting her lovingly. “Maybe it should just stay you and me, huh, Daisy. Maybe two witchers aren’t better than one.”

#cassie writes stuff #witcher fanfic #the witcher #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #witcher reader #reader-insert

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sserpente · 4 years ago

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A/N: Requests from two anons. No crying involved but definitely an anxiety-inducing situation for RC if that makes any sense. Enjoy! ♥

Words: 2118 Warnings: brief mention of past abusive relationship, attempted rape

“Honey, don’t you think you have enough candy by now? Who’s gonna eat all that?”

“Me!” Your niece stuck out her tongue as she half-walked, half-jumped through one of the many dimly-lit hallways. Her pumpkin basket was full to the brim already but, as you had suspected, there was no stopping her. You did not mind. You weren’t exactly keen on the annual Dauntless Halloween party in the pit. Lots of alcohol, sweaty bodies and so much fake blood it would take you weeks to get it all out of your clothes, off of your body and your hair. You didn’t hate Halloween, in fact you loved it. But you would rather curl up on the sofa in your tiny apartment reading a good book instead of drinking yourself into a coma.

Your niece looked unbelievably cute in her witch costume. Long ginger hair stuck out from under the pointy hat with the fluffy spider sitting on top. She’d had a little black broom as well—and you were not surprised you had had to keep carrying it after only three apartments already.

She was bound to get tired soon, so you kept telling yourself. You could already see yourself becoming a blanket burrito with a steaming mug full of hot chocolate and some of the leftover sweets you yourself had bought for the other children prior to trick or treating with your niece. You were so lost in thought that you only realised too late she had already started at the next apartment door and gave it a vigorous knock.

“Honey, no, not this one!” Shit. Only a few heartbeats later, the door opened.

“Trick or Treat!” She cried out. She was grinning as she held out her pumpkin basket, waiting patiently for her next victim to give her even more sweets. Only the person who had opened her hardly seemed impressed and instead raised an eyebrow at her. Eric used one of his muscly arms to lean against the threshold, his gaze wandering back and forth between your niece and you.

No one ever dared to knock on Eric’s door, presuming he would breathe down their neck for even considering he would give out candy to enthusiastic little children. Unfortunately, your niece did not know that.

Eventually, his gaze came to rest on you.

“I am so sorry, she was too fast.”

“What happened to your face?” He asked instead of reacting to your half-hearted apology. Oh, right. Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks turning crimson red. You had let your niece put some Halloween make-up on you. There was a giant spider with big orange eyes sitting on your right cheek while she had decorated the left with a black spider web. One thing was for sure, your niece would not become the next Picasso.

“Nothing… my niece thought we should match.” And perhaps next Halloween, she should turn you into a mouse so you could hide in a mouse hole to save yourself from Eric’s scrutinising—and now also downright amused—glance. There was a slight hint of mockery sparkling in his blue eyes as well, so you noticed when he stirred.

“Let me see if I can find something.” Oh. That was unexpected. As he disappeared, leaving his apartment door open, you just stood there dumbfounded all the while your niece tripped on the spot all carefree and blithe. This wasn’t really happening, was it? This was literally your nightmare before Christmas!

About a minute later, Eric returned. In his hands, he held a massive bar of Hershey’s chocolate. It was one of those treats only the leaders of Dauntless were privileged enough to receive every now and then. Your niece’s jaw dropped, eyes widening.

“There you go. You think you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Yes! I’m strong!” She pointed out, emphasising her words by making a muscle with her free arm. “Thank you!” As soon as she had accepted the chocolate, she was already off to the next apartment door. Only you still stood there, seemingly frozen in place.

“Uh… thank you.” You managed to choke out sheepishly.

“You’re welcome…” He mumbled in response. “I’ll see you at the party later.” And with that, he closed the door on you, once again leaving you standing there completely dumbfounded.

You had seen him around on Halloween. Eric never dressed up. Instead, he spent the night sitting at the bar all by himself, occasionally chatting to his fellow leaders and sipping some whiskey—completely unimpressed by his fellow Dauntless members’ craziness and excessive alcohol consumption. In that aspect, he was pretty much like you.

You spent the rest of your niece’s trick or treating pondering over his words. You were certainly overthinking it but what exactly had he meant by that? Did he expect you to show up? You had not planned on going. Would it be rude not to show up now? Jesus, it wasn’t like he had asked you out on a date. Eric was merely not as cold and condescending towards you than to others, perhaps because you always made an effort to be nice and polite to him, especially during your initiation.

And yet, once your niece was returned to your sister and you finally rid yourself of all that make-up on your face, you found yourself picking out something to wear to the party. It was almost like your hot chocolate, book and blanket sighed when you left your apartment and headed to the pit instead.

Halloween was on a full moon this year. Maybe you were going crazy. What were you even expecting? In the end, you settled for wanting to prove to Eric that you were a social person who would not curl up all alone on a day like Halloween—that you were tough; that you were Dauntless.

But you were beginning to regret your decision as soon as you reached the pit. Exuberant laughter and chatting along with loud music nearly blew your ears off, the smell of sweat and alcohol immediately numbing your senses. You coughed a little as you started fighting your way through the dancing crowd, your legs stirring you towards the bar almost automatically. Yep, definitely crazy, you thought to yourself.

At least your make-up was a little more on fleek now. You had gone for a mysterious vamp-look, with smoky eyes and dark-red lipstick, a black dress and your knee-high combat boots to complete your appearance. You felt quite sexy but then again, nothing could quite compete with some cosy pumpkin pyjamas.

“Hey, sweetheart… Can I buy you a drink?” Great. There went another reason for which you hated parties like that. Glancing to your left from the corner of your eye, you spotted an already tipsy man dressed up like a zombie approaching you.

“No, thank you. I can pay for it myself.”

“Don’t have to. I’ll pay for it if you’ll dance with me.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated, a little louder and sterner this time. But instead of letting it go, the man stepped right in front of you. He looked still young, probably among the new recruits who had recently passed initiation.

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a drink.” Only ‘just a drink’ was usually accompanied by the expectation of more than just dancing. You were not wary because of prejudice. You were wary because of personal experience in your old faction and an abusive ex-boyfriend.

“Come on, Drake.” The young man joining him was dressed like a zombie as well. They had done well with their make-up. They were nearly unrecognisable. “It’s not your fault you look like a troll. Allow me to buy the lady a drink.”

Annoyed, you rolled your eyes. “I appreciate it but I don’t want either of you to buy me a drink. Let me through, please.” Perhaps you should go find your friends.

Oh, it had been such a stupid idea to ditch hot chocolate and your warm blanket for this, for Eric. But whatever had gotten into you, you were too stubborn to accept the consequences. Only when you attempted to move past them, they cornered you. Two warm bodies pressed against you, one from the front, one from behind. You shuddered when their hands made a move to wander up and down your arms and waist, moving to the rhythm of the ear-piercing music—and even though everything inside of you screamed to lash out at them and make use of your combat skills, you forced yourself to keep calm.

“Let go of me, you scumbags.” You hissed. You’d give them ten seconds at most. If they did not let go of you until then you would kick the shit out of them. One, two, three…

“You’re in Dauntless, act like it.” They were not entirely wrong, so you hated to admit. The majority of men and women here in Dauntless made no secret out of their countless one-nightstands. Sneaking off and making out in semi-public places was risky, reckless and brave all at the same time—even your friends had told you about the adrenaline rush.

Four, five, six…

“She said no.” A stern voice suddenly came to your rescue. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Eric stood like a particularly intimidating bouncer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as he positioned himself behind you with his arms crossed.

“Eric! Come join us. We should take this happy ensemble to a quieter place. Ever had a foursome, love?”

“She said no. Take your hands off her before I rip them out and throw them down the chasm. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’ve passed initiation now.”

“Geez, spoilsport. Come on, Drake.”

“I was about to handle this myself.” You hastened to explain when they finally staggered off, lifting your chin up in a proud and independent manner. Eric slightly raised his eyebrows. Well, at least the reason for your presence at this uncomfortable party was here now.

“I know.” Apparently, he’d been headed for the bar as well. With your heart in your mouth, you found yourself following him until you finally reached your destination and asked the barkeeper for a cold beer. Eric went with his traditional whiskey.

“You’re shaking.” He remarked, arms crossed on the counter.

“I’m cold.”

“Cold? This is a sauna. You were afraid of what they might do to you.” He said matter-of-factly and oddly, without any hint of scorn in his voice. The urge to react all defensive overwhelmed you nonetheless.

“So? I went through one abusive relationship, I’m not keen on going through that again because some arseholes believe I have to have one-nightstands for the sake of being Dauntless.”

Eric hummed; in silent agreement, probably. For a brief moment, he was still. You took the time to take a few eager sips from your beer. At least that compensated you a little for relinquishing Halloween night as a blanket burrito.

“Your face looks better than before.” He said then.

“Yeah… thanks. I told my niece begged me to do my make-up for her candy hunt. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

The Dauntless leader smirked. “I take it you did not intend for her to knock on my door.”

“No.” No one ever does, you added quietly.

“Well, she seems tough. She should stay in Dauntless once she’s old enough to choose.” He paused.

“I hope so too. ‘Faction before blood’ only sounds easy.”

“Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall. I’m going for a run.” He suddenly commented out of the blue. Your eyes widened. Excuse me?

“Huh?” Frowning, you studied his face, searching for the joke you quite apparently did not understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eric raised his eyebrows once more. “Was I being unclear?”

“Well, no but—“ There was one thing you knew about Eric for certain. You did not defy him. Ever. There was a part of you which wanted to, simply out of spite but the other… the other had dragged you all the way to this party merely because Eric had suggested to ‘see you there’. Heavens, was this really happening? Was the most fearful Dauntless leader of them all actually taking an interest in you? Should you thank your niece for being the trigger… or damn her?

“Good,” He interrupted you harshly, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall.” When you said nothing, too flabbergasted to even respond, he simply downed his whiskey and ordered a new one. Well, Happy Halloween to you. It honestly seemed like this was going to be a promising night after all.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#eric divergent #eric divergent imagine #eric divergent x you #eric divergent x reader #eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x you #eric coulter x reader #divergent #divergent imagine #dauntless #dauntless imagine #jai courtney

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aprilsrant · 4 years ago

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Happiness.

Harry Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of the war, mentions of death/dying (promise nothing too serious), kind of angsty but fluff in the end. Enemies to lovers (kind of). Loosely based on the song Compass by The Neighbourhood.

A/N: This is a gift for my amazing girl Val, @minty-malfoy, I hope you can enjoy this fic, it was really fun to write. Happy Holidays to everyone reading this and to all of my followers, I love and appreciate all of you so much!

English is not my first language. Pictures are not mine. Open for more quality.

“I'm lucky you've been keeping me around

You're the star I look for every night

When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side.”

Compass, The Neighbourhood.

Harry had never been one to believe in luck or chances, but there was no denying that ever since he was born, his entire destiny had been written in stone by someone who wanted nothing more than to destroy him; there was no denying that it felt like years of bad luck and a curse strong enough to affect everyone around him had been placed on his shoulders even before he could walk.

After years of fighting Voldemort and his followers, Harry had the tendency of thinking that the norms of normality didn’t apply to him. Every new term at Hogwarts meant a new danger, threatening his life, his friends and the rest of the Wizarding Community that wasn’t part of the elite group of blood supremacists.

Therefore, finding someone never did the top of his list when the number one was surviving through it all. Finding someone meant, at least to him, a glimpse of ordinariness and a sense of home, things that he never remembered of experiencing outside of Hogwarts and the Burrow. That being said, not under any circumstances Harry had believed encountering her would have been possible.

(Y/N) was someone he had ignored and bound in a cage of old prejudice because of an ancient — and unhealthy — rivalry, one started centuries before they set foot on the castle. Their relationship wasn’t one for the romance movies the Muggles loved, those where the protagonists fall in love the moment they see each other. Instead, Harry and (Y/N) loathed the other ever since the first Potion class in their sixth year.

For a Slytherin, dreams and ambitions are what you hold closely to your heart and anyone trying to defy them, or achieve them first, is waving a battle flag right in front of you, too loud to dismiss — or perhaps, the receiver of the message is too proud to ignore —. For (Y/N), seeing Harry Potter get all of Slughorn’s attention and praise when she had been the best on the subject for the last five years, was a slap in the face interpreted as a sign to unleash the rabid dogs of war.

If anyone had told Harry that he would grow to love her, to adore every piece of her, he would have laughed while claiming the person was mental. But, what was once a feud quickly transformed into a weird, unpredictable friendship. After that, it was only a matter of time for feelings to blossom.

Neither of them wanted to admit it, but deep inside of their chests and hearts, both knew that the sweaty hands, the longing stares, the intimacy of their jokes and the tenderness of their touch wasn’t the part of the play that friends acted.

It was then that the idea of bad luck and cursed for life appeared on his head again. How could he be so selfish to let her into his life when a real war was coming for him and for everyone who dared to choose his side? How could he pretend that the claws of death weren’t reaching for him, that his life didn’t depend on the shaky and ancient hands holding the scissors? Harry knew pulling Hermione and Ron, and his whole family, into the mess was already bad enough, but doing it to the girl who had become an unexpected beacon of light would make him even more guilty. It wasn’t fair that he had to worry about whether being with her or not would endanger her life, but Harry hadn’t been born for normality.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Harry heard her voice from behind him, strong but trying to cover the anger and hurt. It was only the two of them in the corridor since most of the other students were still in class or using their free period to study. The distance separating them gave the sensation of facing an endless ocean, one you could never cross. “Did I do or say something upsetting? Is it because of your friends? I know Ron doesn’t particularly like me but I promise I’m trying.”

“It’s not that and I’m not ignoring you,” Harry responded shortly, not stopping his walk or daring to glance back at her, afraid of giving in with only seeing the expression plastered in her face. The cold words escaping from his mouth and his attitude, rising the fire in the pit of her stomach.

“What do you mean you are not ignoring me, Harry?,” she scoffed while the pace of her footsteps increased to chase after the boy, “you can’t even look me in the eye and say it to my face.”

“I’m answering your questions, am I not? In what way is this ignoring you then?” (Y/N) had admired Harry’s tendencies to sarcasm or ironic responses ever since they became friends — and perhaps even before —, but now she wanted to slap him for acting so unfaced.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because one day you look like you’re finally about to ask me on a date but the next one, you avoid me as if I were sick!”

Harry’s steps faltered, his chest tightened at the thought of (Y/N) reciprocating his feelings.

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it,” she whispered, putting herself in front of the boy.

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Is it because I’m a Slytherin?,” (Y/N) insisted. Now, Harry could see the ache and a hungry desperation in her eyes to know the answers, only there because of him. “Just don’t leave me, I- I can’t bear it. We can go back to hating each other if it makes it easier, but don’t do this, don’t leave me like this.”

“I don’t hate you, (Y/N), but I can’t give you what you want,” Harry said watching as her hands took hold of his owns, making his heart skipped a beat, “I’m not someone that can live a normal life, not with Voldemort threatening me and everyone I’m close with.” Harry didn’t miss her efforts to not flinch at the mention of the Dark Lord.

One of her hands travelled all the way up to his right cheek, the feeling of Harry’s skin and the way the boy had leaned into the touch of her fingers, forgetting for just a second all the worries plaguing his mind, had (Y/N)’s stomach almost bursting.

“I don’t want nor need a normal life, Harry. I want you, I couldn’t care less about the rest,” she confessed.

“But I care! I care about what’s going to happen to you!,” He yelled (?), “you can get hurt, you can die, (Y/N)!”

“And so can you! Let me remind you, you’ve been there a couple of times now, Harry.” She was glad of choosing the empty corridor to confront him, not having to endure the hushed whispers and the stares, pointing at her as if she wouldn’t notice. “If there’s a war coming then I prefer to spend this few minutes of peace with you.”

“But if you-”

“And if I die, then I got to be with you in the end,” (Y/N) interrupted him, “I’m not afraid of dying, Harry, but I would love to live a little before doing so.”

He closed his eyes, releasing a shaky breath before embracing her figure and resting his head against her shoulders, smelling the signature and familiar fragrance of her perfume. A small smile appeared on (Y/N)’s face while she let herself enjoy the feeling of being in his arms, guarded from the evils outside the castle and loved by the boy she once used to loathe.

“We all deserve some happiness, and maybe even a tad of normalcy, Harry,” she whispered in his ear before looking at his green eyes and closing the distance between their lips.

Taglist: @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @gcdric @shadowsinger11 @thisismynerdyself @cappsikle @idont-knowrn @theweasleysredhair @aesthetically-hailey @slytherinsunrise @bannerbubble @lilac-wrists @storyisnotover

#Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x slytherin #slytherin!reader #reader insert #starlightweasley's secret santa #fanfiction #fanfic #harry fanfic

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years ago

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The Tigress of Wrath and the Golden Dragon ~ Yin Zhen x Reader

This is a little fic in which the reader is a girl whose father is an important War General for the Emperor Kangxi, and since he has no sons, and the girl shows great aptitude in fighting and strategic thinking, he chooses to present her to the Emperor and requests to treat her as a man and use her skills accordingly.

When she was a child, she got along well enough with the 3rd and 4th Princes ( Yin Zhi and Yin Zhen accordingly ) yet, due to her more tomboyish personality, and the legend of a Tigress Warrior, they nicknamed her "The Tigress" both as a nickname, and a teasing too, as she seemed to be terrible at being feminine as well, as we know how life was like in the 17th-18th century.

Just like the 14th Prince, she was then taken by her father to train in martial arts and returned to the Palace many years later, when she was of age, and to prove herself, she has to go through some challenges…

---

"Father...? Do you think...Those two will remember me? It's been so long, and I've changed so much and...I don't know." the girl asked her father awkwardly, as they walked casually towards the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the place where the Emperor would talk to the people requesting an audience, and solve paper businesses. "Y/N, dear, you may be scared that they won't recognise you, sure, but remember that you are about the same age, and if you've changed so much, imagine that you may not recognise them either. You know very well men change quite a lot when they grow. You were taller than them when you were a little munchkin, but now, I'm sure they will be towering over you." her father chuckled, seeing the horrified look on her face, only to pat her head reassuringly. "That's...So not cool...I'm sure that, with my eternal luck, I'm going to pass by them, and not realise who it is...Ah, father, look at that boy over there, in the red outfit! Do you think it's one of them? Yin Zhi used to like red, that much I remember! Ha, and he didn't grow up too much, I'm sure he's around my height!" the girl grinned triumphantly, her chin held high, which made her father laugh even more mirthfully. "Why don't you go ask him, then? Who knows, you may just be right!" he encouraged her, and with a smile on her face, she ran up to the boy with no inhibition whatsoever, convinced she was talking to her old friend.

"Hello! Sorry to bother, but are you, per chance, the 3rd Prince? I haven't been in the palace since I was very little, so I'm trying to find my friends." she asked the boy in the most carefree manner possible, only to have him chuckle at her and shake his head. "You're about 11 princes down the line, sorry to disappoint you, miss. I'm the 14th Prince, although, I have to say, I'm rather surprised to hear that my brother actually had friends. He's not the most sociable, as far as I'm concerned, but I'll give you a little tip on where to find him. Both him and the 4th Prince are busy devising some kind of plan or something with our Father, the Emperor, so that's the safest bet if you want to find him." the boy explained, as the cricket in his little cage made a cute, almost happy noise of confirmation. "...Yin Zhen is there too...? Oh boy, that's very exciting...Well, thank you for the information, Prince, I appreciate the help. See you around." she bowed quickly to him, in a manly mannerism, which confused the boy garbed in red, yet didn't quite question anything, as she bolted off to her father's side, quickly telling him what she found out.

And so, they arrived in front of the doors, and the Eunuch announced their arrival, allowing them to step inside and kowtow to the floor to greet the Eye of Heaven.

"May the Emperor live eternally." the two chanted in unison as they bowed down in reverence. "General Nian, I pray you have arrived safely. And I see you've finally brought your daughter with you as well. Just as expected, she grew up a real beauty, just like her mother."the Emperor smiled at them, as they nodded their heads as a thank you. "Your Majesty is kind and benevolent above all, yet I dare not receive just praise." the girl raised her sight so she could look at the old man, feeling awkward, yet unstoppable. "A humble one she is, General, you've raised her well. As I see it, she is of age. Are you here to request a good marriage for her? Perhaps with one of my sons?" the Emperor asked, earning a silent yet startled gulp from the girl. "Your Majesty, I dare not. My daughter, bless her soul, is not the most feminine one, yet, since she left the palace, she showed incredible aptitude in martial arts and fighting, and her teachers deemed her intelligence above average. While she is hopeless with a needle, I can proudly say that she can stab with a sword infinitely better than many of our soldiers. If you may have it in your heart to forgive such an obvious stray-away from our usual traditions, please consider using her skills, for she learnt a great deal and she wants to serve our country and the Emperor with her very brain and life.” her father pleaded, and it seemed like the Emperor was actually considering this move. “Very well, I understand your wish, and it makes sense, however, you will have to prove yourself in front of everyone. There are prejudices everywhere, and close to nobody believes in the resurrection of someone like Princess Pingyang or Lin Siniang. Should you prove them wrong, I shall grant you the title of Apprentice Detective. I believe you remember my sons here, the 3rd and 4th Princes – They, too, were here to volunteer to help solve a case in a province away from the palace, and you may join them.” The Emperor explained, making both the father and the daughter bow gratefully. “Your Majesty is kind and benevolent above all. I shall prove I am worthy of this position and make you and my father proud.” She spoke, and thus, the Emperor raised. “Today, you may rest, as you have come here from a long and tiresome journey, yet tomorrow, you shall be fighting the soldiers in training at the Academy, and depending on your performance, I shall make a decision.” Was the last thing the old man spoke, and then, he dismissed the young ones, as he wished to talk about the situation of the Army in the North-East province.

And so, the Eunuch guided them outside and guided her to the Palace of Everlasting Wisdom, which was awfully fitting for her, but she thought nothing of it, instead, quickly befriended the maids and had them tell her anything of relevance about life in the Palace.

But…Those two Princes…The Emperor said they were her old friends…But they were so grown up and looked so sharp and mature! How could that have happened? She still looks soft and youthful, while they look like hardened adults! How is that fair in any way? Not to mention…They’d be working together? On a journey, away from the palace? That’s insane! So exciting! …Hopefully.

That night, she slept like a baby, both eager and anxious for the next day’s challenge, whatever that may be…After all, she MUST get everyone’s respect, should she wish to have a nice life in the palace and not be constantly pressured into marriage or into becoming a concubine.

Y/N dressed in a nice, light blue dress, like those worn during the reign of the Empress Wu Zetian, since she found those kinds of outfits the best for martial arts, and styled the top of her hair in a simple bun tied in a blue ribbon, letting the lower part sway with the wind. Taking her sword in her hands, she unsheathed half of it, seeing the reflection of her beautiful eyes in it, and grinning, to hype herself up, she slammed the sword back and put it at her waist, rushing to the fighting area.

In the middle of the court, she bowed to the Emperor, who was there to watch the show, yet her gaze was nowhere close to him, but her eyes caught Yin Zhen’s ebony eyes watching her, and she could only smirk, very smug and proud of herself.

As she kneeled like a warrior in front of the Emperor, her eyes averted to His Majesty, as he started explaining what she had to do, as a few boys who must have been fresh out of the Academy, went on either side of her, in perfect sync, 3 on each side, 4 meters apart from her.

“I am aware that one must carry a sword to protect themselves and their allies, yet today, you must show that you are capable of doing so without using your blade in such a manner. Discipline, strategy, reflexes, wit and martial arts shall be what you will be tested on today. You may begin.” As he rose from his throne, he extended his hand up in the air, then abruptly let it fall to his side, as if to highlight the beginning of an entertaining show.

As soon as the loud “BEGIN” was heard from the echoing voice of His Majesty, the girl quickly made a few backward tumbles in a way to get out of the men’s way of harm, then got in a fighting stance, ready to take everyone out. The first 3 were easy to defeat, and ultimately, she grabbed the 2nd one’s arm and swung him around, kicking him into the 3rd, making the three of them fall to the ground – But then she got ambushed by the last three, and as she felt herself get grabbed by the light jacket over her blouse, she quickly twirled around, letting the attacker remain with the jacket in his hands, while she dropped to the ground, sweeping her leg over his own, making him fall to the ground. As she finished the 4th, she twirled around again, kicking the 5th in the jaw, then taking out the ribbon from her hair and choking the last one standing, and thus, she was standing tall surrounded by a pile of beaten up men who stood no chance.

However, no day is short of surprises, as she notices Yin Zhen’s sword get unsheathed and him walking towards her with an amused smirk, and she could only tsk in annoyance – This game of proving the others wrong seemed rather unfair all of a sudden – Going against a sword barehanded? Not exactly wise, she reckoned – And thus, she took out her own sword from her waist, extending it for the Prince to see.

“I believe what you are doing will go against the rules set by the Emperor, Y/N. Are you willing to point a sword towards the Crown Prince?” the 4th Prince chuckled very amused, but now, it was the girl’s turn to grin. “Who said anything about a sword? The Emperor told me not to use a blade, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m merely using its scabbard, correct?” she continued parrying the Prince’s swings with perfect accuracy, but she knew he wasn’t actually going full strength on her, she could feel it in the force behind each strike. “I’m not sure if I should be offended that you’re not taking me seriously in this fight, or if I should be concerned about the gold possibly getting whisked away.” She laughed merrily as they continued to dance the waltz of swords, each strike going harder and harder. “If it does, I will make sure the Imperial Blacksmith forges a much better sword for you, and the scabbard will be embellished fit for an Empress.” Their weapons were crossed while their faces were so close to each other that they could almost feel each other’s breaths, and their words, merely above a whisper, needn’t be any louder, for their conversation was meant to be intimate and away from anyone’s ears. “I’d be much happier if it was fit for a Prince.” She laughed in his face, ready to prepare for another strike, but somehow, the Prince’s hit made the scabbard fall off and rotate far away from their positions, looking at them as if mocking. “How rude and unfair of you, Princeling! How am I supposed to fight you now that I can only use the sword’s handle?” she shook her head in mock annoyance, as he sheathed his sword and stepped in front of her. “I win.” He spoke in a simple, teasing manner, flicking her forehead – An endearing and affectionate habit he used to do only to her when they were young and would sneak out of the palace to play around in the Plum garden. “You win nothing, Yin Zhen.” She scoffed, only to notice a glint of silver sparkling in the Sun, and realizing what it was, she jumped, twirling the sword around to pick it up by the blade’s edge, and stepping on his chest, she propelled herself in the air, hitting away a flying arrow sent into the Emperor’s direction. “…Was that planned too?” she asked, not even noticing the running blood coming from her hand. “No, it wasn’t. Father, are you alright?” the Prince ran to his father’s side, while the girl looked back in the direction from which the arrow was sent flying. “The five of you, don’t move! Guards, keep them still!” commanding the royal guards who obeyed her orders, she examined each of the protesting men who either cried out their innocence, or hollered it out. “You were the one who sent the arrow flying. You have a horizontal line across the middle of your fingers, which means you didn’t use a bow, since it would have attracted attention, but instead, most likely, a mini crossbow that many assassins use – Which makes sense, considering how the arrow is about half the size of a normal one. And the two of you are accomplices. You have the crossbow under your clothes – You’re not actually fat, you just stuffed your clothes to appear so, and you provided the arrows, there is a fragment of a coloured feather part which is used for arrows to fly properly.” She explained with ease, which made the Emperor and the other Princes gather around behind her, listening to her reasonings. “Yes, very well, that does make sense. Yin Zhen, Yin Zhi, what do you make of this situation?” the old man looked at his two Princes, who seemed to ponder the situation over, but came up with no other solution by the end of their brief investigation. “It seems to me Miss Y/N came up with the right solution, Father.” The 3rd Prince answered quickly, not wanting to stay there more than needed, but also being rather intrigued by what was happening. It wasn’t often that a court case would find itself before their very eyes so easily. “Very well, very well indeed.” The Emperor nodded in agreement, stroking his beard. “Father, if I may – I wish to express my opinion on Y/N’s

arrival here, at the Palace. I believe she will be the perfect Detective Constable. She expressed skills in combat, intelligence, tactics, wit and charm – I believe men will find it easier to confess to her, should they be found in a precarious situation. It will prove to be very useful in our mission in the Jiangnan province.” Yin Zhen’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts and spoke without realizing. “Jiangnan? That’s pretty close to Hunan, where I spent most of my time. I heard it’s a rather interesting and developed city. What’s the problem there?” she asked, and it was then that the Emperor truly decided to assign her the case. “There has been a string of rather bizarre murders, Young Detective, and I would like you and my sons to go investigate and put a stop to the injustice taking place. You will be on the road tomorrow, these two will show you the book with the written statements about each singular crime that took place. Rest assured, I will inform your father of your departure, and later tonight you will be provided with the imperial token and any weapon you may be in need of.” The Emperor told his scribe to write the declared Royal Decree and had his personal eunuch give her the Imperial Token that will ensure her access to any place or information that she may otherwise have difficulty reaching. “Your Highness is kind and benevolent above all. May Your Majesty live eternally.” Young Y/N kowtowed in front of the old man, who chuckled and patted her head before leaving the place, and with him, the rest of the crowd…Sans the two eldest princes. “I thought tigresses would grow with time, not regress so much. How amusing.” Yin Zhi chuckled, making light of the height difference that was now reversed. “It’s not my fault I was born in the wrong body, is it now? No matter now, I can accomplish the same things with no difficulty or impediment. A tigress will forever be a tigress, be it a cub or a celestial one.” She smirked at the older prince, who could only scoff and walk away. “Great seeing you again, Y/N. As annoying as always.” He grumbled, leaving his brother alone with her. “It may be my imagination alone, but I believe he became grumpier than ever – Correct me if I’m wrong, though.”Y/N shook her head in disbelief, only to get her forehead flicked once again. “And you are as reckless and airheaded as always. If I don’t take care of you, you’ll die before you realise. The Palace life is a harsh one, especially for a woman, be it one in the harem, or merely one with ties to anyone from the Imperial family. Don’t be foolish thinking you are exempt from harm.” Yin Zhen warned her with a sharp and serious tone – She almost couldn’t recognize him, remembering how much of an air head HE used to be, and she had to scold him every time he’d get hurt by being careless and falling down a tree, or falling in the lake. “You don’t have a fever, do you, Yin Zhen? I don’t recognize you! Since when have our roles been reversed, anyway? Besides, what’s the harm done to me, considering I could prevent any from coming to you and your Imperial Father?” Y/N shrugged simply, before getting her hand taken in his and realizing his concern – Her hand was actually slashed and bleeding from when she held her blade tightly in her hand to deflect the stray arrow ready to claim an important life. “You, dummy. Good thing I learnt from the Tigress how to take care of my cub, otherwise, this little kitten would have been much tamer in the future…And that wouldn’t be fun, would it?” The prince took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it tight against the wound, waiting like that until it stopped bleeding altogether. “Marigold ointment will take care of it. Hopefully, no scars either.” She muttered, looking down at her hand with resentment at the idea of scarring. “Even if it does scar, it won’t take away your beauty and worth in this world.” This comment – so charming, spoken in such a suave way, as he drew closer to her – Made her heart beat like never before, and she was sure her face must show the warmth she felt. “I

didn’t realise you’d become such a smooth talker. Little Yin Zhen sure grew a lot since we’ve last seen each other. Undoubtly, you must have a lot of ladies swooning over you. Ladies with skin as smooth and pale as milk, that is. You don’t have to make me feel better, I am aware of this society’s beauty standards, and how people look down on women with scars. But thank you. I will be going now. Make sure you are well rested for tomorrow’s journey…It will be a long one.” With a small smile, Y/N drew back her hand, taking the handkerchief with her as well – She couldn’t possibly return it all bloody, right? – And went back to her assigned palace, not giving the prince any chance to speak back or refute in any way. How could he possibly find the woman he’s been pining over for so many years – In any way, shape or form – Disgusting, just because of some scar? He knew – It was true – He knew how people were…But not him, and not when it came to her. For so many years since she’s been gone from his arms, he’s been thinking of her and her alone. He wasn’t like his elder brother, so dissolute and indulging in his own pleasures, as far away from the Imperial family as possible, while also ensuring his favouring to their father…But He was different. Yin Zhen WAS going to be the next Emperor, and he WAS going to marry Y/N, no matter what. He just got her back…No way in hell was he going to let her go again.

When he saw her again, he couldn’t believe his eyes – She grew up so much, she looked so beautiful, like a woman – It was only now that he saw her with different eyes, it wasn’t just the old fondness from their childhood…But now, his heart was beating faster looking upon her face.

Stars were twinkling brighter in her eyes, than on the bright sky of Summer, her gorgeous visage rivaling even the Moon Goddess Chang’e – And she was as stubborn and nonconformist as always, wearing dresses from so far back – The Tang dynasty, ages ago – And they suited her so well, he was mesmerized watching the loose fabric fly around her so graciously as she spun around so gracefully, swinging her sword and taking down her enemies with perfect precision and stance…

And her expression…Gods, her expression…

It reminded him of his own.

She oftentimes looked to be ruthless, stoic, sharp and unforgiving…And yet, every so often, when not surrounded by people, he would see her eyes soften to the littlest of things, be it a beautiful flower, or a cute puppy yapping at her, wanting to be petted and played with.

He saw her that night – She couldn’t sleep, perhaps? Or maybe it was the night coming faster, awakening the lovely moon, in her honour – She saw her next to the lotus pond, bathing in the silver light of the Deity, as her finger so gracefully glided over the strings of the zither that she played with such nostalgia, that he felt his own heart weep.

Why was she so sorrowful, he wondered. No person who lacks a certain degree of a broken heart would be able to play with such vibrating emotions the instrument that holds the soul of the player, and of the listener. The fourth prince felt connected to her – A heart to heart and soul to soul connection – Solely through the sounds coming from every pinch of the strings…

He knew he would never again feel something so powerful with anyone else. It was his mother who once told him so many tales of heroes saving princesses and falling in love, and yet, those stories never explained in such detail what either of them felt. It was clear to him now that those authors were never actually in love to begin with. God forbid men feel or act with any vulnerability towards the woman they vow to protect and cherish for the rest of their days.

He wanted – Oh, how much he needed – To go to her, to accompany her melody by playing the flute, for those songs are meant to be played together, as a couple, in perfect harmony – And yet, he was afraid that, as soon as he’d approach her, the little tigress would flee from him. He was aware of how frail and afraid she was of admitting she held a more romantic side, and yet, this very fear of her was what was causing her so much distress, even if she was aware of it or not.

Perhaps, this woman wasn’t just a tigress, but a fawn as well, choosing which side of her to show to the world, depending on what her heart and mind dictated…In a world ruled by men, being a deer would only get you to become dinner, so play the role of a fiery tigress and make everyone flee in fear.

It was the perfect strategy, clearly, and yet…

Yin Zhen never showed fear.

“I never imagined my first case would involve something so complex.” Y/N spoke, almost without realizing, as she went over the case file once again, bouncing absent-minded in the horse saddle. “We immediately sent word to the constables in Jiangnan so they won’t touch the body more than needed. Congratulations, your first case will have you look at something gruesome.”Yin Zhi mocked her, and yet, he was shocked hearing her laugh lightly. “That’s gonna be fun!” she grinned, trying to imagine the way she’d find the bodies and whether she’d be able to make heads or tails of everything. “I hope all three of the bodies will be left in perfect shape, otherwise it would be such a pity, don’t you think?” she mused, a confident kitten-like smile creeping on her face. “Any man who hears you speak with so much glee about dead bodies will flee for you. I’d be more careful about what I’d say out loud before it’s too late and I end up all alone, old and ugly.”The 3rd prince’s comment made his younger brother frown in anger, shooting him a warning look. He didn’t want the girl to become even more sorrowful than she already was. Not being the stereotypical feminine woman wasn’t as popular now as it was hundreds of years ago, when the bravest women were, in the end, praised and beloved by everyone, going down in history, tales of their bravery being sung at events all over the country. “Then…Think I’ll find a pretty woman? If I can’t find a man to love me, protect me and cherish me, like in those nice stories our mothers told us when we were young, then might as well become the warrior seeking a beautiful, young maiden who would willingly sooth my soul and tend to my wounds. Doesn’t sound half-bad, does it? Women are very beautiful, maybe I can find the appeal a man feels when seeing one, if I imagine it long enough.” She chuckled carefree, but the prince knew that, deep down, she was used to such harsh comments being made about her, and in her heart, she held no hope of a future with someone by her side. “As if that would happen.” The prince scoffed at her breeze-like comment, only for her to laugh at him, tauntingly. “What is it, Zhi Zhi? Afraid I’m going to be more popular with the ladies than you? With how rude you are, I think it’s safe to say I would win, if that were the case.” A tigress, a fawn…And a smirking fox. Yin Zhen wondered whether he would come to discover more spirit animals residing inside her heart – He was fascinated, and also, satisfied with how she turned around to taunt back his brother with such perfect ease, that it angered the elder one. “We shall see…” oh, look at that, the 3rd Prince actually took that as a competition starter – How very serious of him! “Enough bickering, you two, we have arrived.” The 4th Prince scolded those two as they trotted inside the city of Jiangnan, admiring the provincial beauty and simplicity of the place, until they were greeted by the main constable of the place, who guided them to their quarters, offering them information about each case, only for then guide them to each of them, in the order they were done.

“Good golly, I never would have imagined a human could end up so fat!” the girl exclaimed, her jaw dropped in horror at the mountain of a man that sat in front of a table, his upper body engulfing the wooden furniture with the layers of fat as he was hovering over it entirely. “Be more respectful of the dead, Y/N…”Yin Zhen sighed softly as he went ahead to look around the room. “I’ll wait for you outside.” The constable muttered, doing as he told.

The girl then put a veil on her face to cover the bottom half of it, protecting herself as much as possible from the possible diseases and, most of all, from the stench of rotten food and flesh. With help from the two imperial brothers, she had the corpse lay on the floor completely, so she could perform an autopsy and see the cause of death – Not only a failing heart, as it was completely engulfed with a scary amount of fat, but…His stomach was burst open, and a concoction of digested and undigested food was disgustingly splayed all around his entrails.

Clearly, he ate himself to death, and yet, she wondered how come the constable didn’t deem this simply a heart failure, considering his appearance? Perhaps signs of forced entry would explain everything – But why would this one be killed in such a way? Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to have such a glutton starve to death? P’haps, even more…Cruel?

Maybe it wasn’t a hate-crime after all, but a way to teach this one that gluttony wasn’t, in fact, good…A twisted way to teach someone a lesson – Don’t steal away the starving people’s food - Y/N realized that, what he may eat at one meal, would be something she’d need for a whole week, and the thought of it had her stifle her chuckle at the irony.

Glutton…Gluttony…Interesting concept. Truth be told, she never met anyone so unhealthily, so morbidly obese – Especially for food was scarce in many provinces, and while there was abundance at the Palace, not even there, did she see anything more than slightly chubby.

Perhaps people who stood out with their wrong-doings were to be eliminated. This one was already an outcast from the rest of the citizens of this place, nobody would miss him, so he was a fair kill.

“Did you find anything relevant around the room?” she asked as she got up and went to wash her hands from the disgusting body juices she had to dig into. “No signs of forced entry, however, the culprit was definitely sitting in the chair opposite of him. What did you find from the body?” the younger brother asked as they all left the room. “Mr. Constable, have you seen anything out of the ordinary in this city lately? A new person, an event, uhm…People acting weirdly, or I don’t know, anything that would stand out from the usual.”She asked, not yet answering the prince. “Nothing that I would think from the top of my head, no…Things have been normal for the past weeks…Until these tragedies started happening, so quickly, one after the other…” country constables really are useless, the girl realized, as she merely smiled at him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring justice to the victims and this city. Until then, stay vigilant and tell us should you find out anything new.” Saying that, she decided to go on ahead to the next victim’s house, letting the running thoughts take over her mind.

Hurrying down the busy streets of Jiangnan, they found their way to the second house of the day – Once again, no signs of a forced entry – Yet this body was different. This man was built normally, so the chances of an accidental death due to natural causes was out of question. He was sprawled over his bed, his clothes dyed with his own crimson blood, his hands and feet impaled with golden ornaments, as melted gold was poured over his face, melting it, and in turn, killing him in such a gruesome way…And piles of golden ingots, silver taels and jewellery were piling over the rest of his body, almost suffocating him.

There was nothing to dissect here, the cause of death was obvious, so the last thing to wonder about was the reason for this atrocity.

So much wealth put everywhere on display…If this was the same person, then maybe…The lesson they wanted to teach this man was humility? Or…Altruism? Temperance? To give away his wealth to those less fortunate?

Perhaps this culprit thought he was trying to protect his city from these people who may taint it. Those who are too…Greedy…

Gluttony…Now Greed…

I wonder what the next lesson taught will be – Y/N thought to herself as she searched around the bed, throwing away all the riches from it, then finding a small, yet fat book that held stray specks of gold on its cover.

‘Bible’ it was called.

“I found one like this at the fat guy’s house, on the table. It certainly is the same killer, then.” Yin Zhi said, taking out the food-stained book from under his clothes. “…I’m onto something. Let’s go to the next one.” Y/N muttered, slamming open the door and bursting through it, going to the 3rd house.

This one, instead of being piled up with the obvious signs of their addictions, it was…Empty? Completely empty?

The victim was laid on the ground, on what looked like a comfortable bed with a pillow, but upon closer inspection, the person was heavily malnourished, looking like a rotting corpse, with its skin barely there anymore, and…

Hold up…

The corpse…Has a pulse…?

As Y/N touched her fingers to the veins on its neck, the corpse’s eyes shot open – They were blood shot, desperate, in complete agony - The girl let out a startled yelp as she fell back on the ground as she watched the…Victim’s chest heave up and down, a guttural scream let out as…The sown-together lips were torn open to allow the man to yell out his pain.

“What do we do?!” Y/N looked back and forth to the brothers, as Yin Zhen knelt and quickly slit his throat, making him go quiet. “Any complaints?” he muttered, watching the girl quickly shake her head. “What the hell was that…? Didn’t the constable say he was definitely dead? That means no pulse, no heartbeat, no vital function…Nothing! This wasn’t nothing!” putting her hand to her chest to calm down her breathing. “Someone wanted us to see him in this state. To act as a warning to us. They knew the constable here was good for nothing, and the culprit wanted to scare us away from this city. Too bad this won’t have the effect he so desired.” Yin Zhen scoffed as he brought his hand under the pillow, finding another book with the same name. “What a sadist…Whoever the killer is…Is sick. Very sick.” But…Why was this one killed? He was humble enough not to lavish himself in riches, not wasting food, or objects…Maybe his behaviour to other people was bad? Maybe he was a jerk? “Any idea about this one?” the 4thprince asked, as the girl shook her head. “No…This time, no idea. Let’s go out, I have to think.” She muttered, going out of the house, looking up at the bright sky and watching the fluffy clouds go by which way the wind wants them to. “I keep thinking on this…I have a feeling that…I read about this somewhere…Some long time ago. Someone is trying to teach these victims a lesson. Don’t be a glutton. Don’t be greedy. But…I can’t figure out what this one did…What did he do so wrong that he had to be induced in a coma and suffer so long…You could see his muscles, and they were in such a horrible state, from not moving…How could he have ruined this city that he deserved this punishment-lesson?” she tried to think out loud, hoping that somehow, the answer will come by itself.

As she walked down the cramped streets of this place, the two princes trailing down behind her, trying to make out their own theories, she got snapped out of her mind palace by the angry shriek of a woman, fighting a weird-looking man in front of a big house.

“You will never get us out of business, so leave already! Spread your mindless indoctrination in another city, you’ve already angered everyone else in this one!” the woman, very beautiful, despite the twisted expression of rage on her face, shouted at the man, who, instead of having matching anger…Looked rather…Serene? “Miss, what is the problem, please? May we help you in any way?” the girl rushed to the woman’s side, holding onto her to calm her down, which worked well. “Ah, yes, you can help me by getting that stupid foreigner out of our city! We never wanted him, but those useless constables let him spread the word of his false God around this place, and now, look at him! Walking around as if this is HIS country! The audacity!” she scoffed, before shaking her head and inviting the trio inside, which made Y/N realise this house was a brothel – In fact, a pretty rich one – “You three are new here. What brings you to our city? The blooming cherry blossoms, perhaps?” the woman, Ying Yue, asked them, as she poured tea for them. “We came here to investigate the series of peculiar murders that took place in this city…But I never imagined, in my life, I would see a foreigner in the flesh! My father and the professors I learnt under wanted me to keep a broad mind, so I am somehow familiar with some literature from Europe, and yet…This man looked…Out of it.” Y/N explained, taking a sip from the aromatic tea, as her eyes were fixated on the visage of the beautiful matron. “Ah, yes, him. His name is…Difficult to pronounce. Alexander, he insists on calling himself. He is from a different religion, worshiping this Deity called ‘God’, and he wants to convert us. He is truly shameless…He keeps preaching how we are all sinful and need divine retribution. Honestly, I don’t understand him at all…Sometimes, he starts talking in a weird language, and waves around that wooden cross of his. He’s creepy. And he’s trying to get our brothel to close down and all the women become nuns and repent.” She shuddered with indignation as Y/N gasped in realization. “Oh…Heavens…I think I know what’s going on…He carries around a book with black leather covers called “Bible”, correct? Does he have any copies?” the girl asked, feeling the fire of understanding surging through her bloodstream, remembering the three booklets found at each scene of the crime. “Gosh, yes, he does. In fact, he spent months translating it in Chinese and handing out copies to every household, and all that. We tossed it into the fireplace, but…I believe there are some who still have it.” The matron explained, and just then, Yin Zhi pulled out the three books from his bag. “Like these ones?” The prince handed the woman the books, but she refused to touch them, disgust splattered all over her face. “Yes, like those. I don’t know what written in them, as I said, I never bothered with them, but hopefully, they will help you in some way.” The matron sighed, as she heard many of her girls giggling, and looking back, they were on the floor above, leaning on the bannister, looking down at the two men bashfully. “You two, it seems my girls have taken a liking to you. Why don’t you go have some fun? It’s on the house. Miss, if you want, we have a few men too, very handsome.” The matron rose from the table, trailing her hands down the men’s shoulders, trying to allure them in. “Not bad…” Yin Zhi muttered, looking up at the beautiful young girls waving at him. “Ah…Hahaha…U-Uhm…Thank you, I’ll pass. Thank you for the offer, I-I have to go now. I’ll see you two at the inn. Bye.”With that, the young girl didn’t wait to see whether the 4th prince accepted the offer or not, instead, she bolted out of the brothel and continued walking around the city, admiring the light from the many colourful paper lanterns hung around the place.

Instead, for the remaining of the evening, and dead into the night, she hovered over the book, skimming through it, this time, more attentively for any key word, or phrases that may get her to understand what was going on.

And then, she remembered her own words – Sinful, gluttony, greed – she said to herself, and there, she found the meaning of those words.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Pride, Greed, Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth.

That means…

The fat guy was forced to eat until his stomach exploded – That was Gluttony. The rich guy was literally buried under his own wealth – That was Greed The coma guy…He had nothing in his home, except for a bed…And he didn’t move for months on end… - That must be Sloth.

Pride, Envy, Wrath and Lust remained…

Lust?

LUST!

The brothel!

That’s why the Christianity envoy wanted to shut down the brothel! God didn’t see lightly any sin committed, and lust was a sinful indulgence!

She had to warn them!

As she ran out of her room, back to the brothel, she noticed smoke rising from it, as it was engulfed in flames… Shocked, Y/N ran inside the burning building, covering her face with her long sleeve so she won’t breathe in the smokes and die while trying to make rescue attempt. She bolted up the stairs, searching every room and evacuating the fainted women who didn’t have the time to leave…But did she really want to see them fainted, on the ground? But maybe seeing them would bring her a certainty that at least they aren’t in a place even more dangerous than this one.

But he saw them, and all her worries were bundled together in the pit of her stomach – The closest escape was through the window, even thought it was to far up, she was confident she could manage to drag them somehow, despite how heavy they were, to safety, outside.

Thank goodness I learnt martial arts – She thought to herself – As she picked the 4th Prince first, jumping down the window, then climbed back up for the 3rd prince to bring back to safety. She hovered over both of them, trying to find out if they breathed in too much smoke, since they passed out like that, as she coughed a bit to eliminate the smoke she inhaled, and thought how Yin Zhi seemed to be okay, but…Zhen Zhen wasn’t doing as brightly…He was barely breathing… So she attempted a procedure she learnt from the monks – To press on the chest at a patterned pace, and the lift the head up a bit and breathe air into their mouth – If it was a different circumstance, she would have been very flustered, considering their lips would touch, but now, she had no time to think twice, as she took deep breaths and exhaled, praying to the Heavens for him to wake up already.

And after a few procedures repeated, he slowly opened his beautiful dark eyes, and Y/N could only sigh, collapsing on his chest, breathing in relief.

“Thank Heavens you’re awake…I thought you were going to die…” she muttered more to herself than to him, before feeling a hand on the top of her head. “Thanks…” the prince spoke out in a tired voice before he, with some help, got in a sitting position. “Your clothes are ruined. And you’re covered in ashes. Come here.” Taking out a napkin once again, he cupped her cheek as he gently cleaned her face, as she looked away awkwardly. “What happened? Neither of you would get caught in a burning building. You could have jumped out of the window. I know you, of all people, wouldn’t get distracted by anything.” She asked, frowning and putting one of her hands over his, stopping him from moving his hand – And he did, shifting his gaze, looking right into her eyes – He could see the worry, the gentleness, the wonder…The love and relief – And the lingering feeling of her soft lips on his own was worth everything, and yet, he’d have rather taken the initiative and kissed her in a more fitting place. “The sake and tea we got served was drugged. We didn’t realise until it was too late. We thought at first it was only the alcohol, but the girls fainted faster than either of us. By the time we felt hazy, we thought it was from the alcohol, Yin Zhi is much more of a lightweight than I am…But when we smelt the smoke, we tried to get up, but found out we couldn’t. But how did you get here? I was sure you’d stay at home and analyse that book the whole night.” He spoke, and the girl cleared her throat awkwardly, chuckling and scratching the back of her head. “So, uhm…That’s what I was doing…And then I realized what the crimes meant. All of them represented one of the seven deadly sins from the Christian Bible. Gluttony, Greed and Sloth being the ones already committed…And, well…Lust was one of them, and I remembered the missionary trying to close down the brothel. And since you were here, I was afraid the perpetrator might try something, attempting to get rid of his pursuers…And when I came by, the brothel was already aflame, neither of you was anywhere to be seen, the matron and many of the citizens were just standing by, screaming, but nobody was trying to put out the fire…I had to do something, you know.” She explained, unconsciously putting a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Give props to the tigress to figure out something like that and to be brave and reckless enough to risk her own life to save a bunch of people that don’t have anything to do with her.” The prince chuckled, only to see the girl’s brows furrowing. “You’re making it seem as if I did a bad thing. Besides…Don’t just say there were people who didn’t have anything to do with me, as if we are strangers to each other. It’s rude.” She muttered, getting up and turning to his brother and slapping his face. “Get up, Zhi Zhi. I know you woke up by now. Don’t just eavesdrop on people’s conversations, you, jerk.” “At least don’t hit so hard, damn…Don’t hit your future husband like that too, he’ll leave you.” The 3rdprince rubbed his now red cheek, only to have the back of his head slapped by his brother as well. “I don’t need to bother with a husband, anyway.” She muttered, walking ahead at the front of the brothel where the matron sobbing, hugging her girls who were crying as well – But at least they woke up, all alive and well – Unlike the crumbling building that couldn’t resist the forces of nature…Induced nature, that is.

The women jumped on their saviour, praising and thanking her for saving their lives, but Y/N’s eyes were glued on something else – The foreigner holding a Bible and a cross in his hands, as his eyes were fixated on the fire while his lips were constantly moving – Was he preaching, she wondered?

No matter – Her rage was bubbling inside her heart so badly that she pushed aside the women and stomped to the foreigner, yelling at him and picking him up by the neck of his shirt, shaking him roughly.

“HOW DARE YOU TRY TO BURN PEOPLE?! HOW DARE YOU KILL THOSE OTHERS JUST LIKE THAT?! YOUR RELIGION IS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL ABOUT LOVE AND CARING FOR YOUR PEERS, NOT ABOUT KILLING AND OPRESSION!” she screamed in his face only for the man to blink in confusion and fear, but…He didn’t seem…Guilty…?? “M-Miss, I’m sorry, I know I am a foreigner and I’ve been trying to convert people and show them how great our religion is…But I’d never kill! The Lord is against harming others, at all costs!” the foreigner tried to explain himself to the girl, but she didn’t stop until she punched him to the ground, only to stop abruptly. “…So…You’re claiming you are innocent? For all 4 crimes? Even though the concept of seven deadly sins is a Christian thing?” she muttered, looking down at him. “Yes, miss, yes! After all, everyone in this city could have read the Bible, I translated it in many books, and delivered them to all households. I made sure to do that for all of them!” Alexander explained himself, and the girl could only nod, seeing the innocence in his eyes. “…If that is true, then, you have my apologies for misjudging you and accusing you of such atrocious crimes. I am sorry that some evil-doer is using your religion is a misguided way, and speaking your God’s name in vain. I don’t believe there is any believer in any faith that would appreciate their belief being treated this way.” Sighing, the girl helped the man up, only for him to take both of her hands in his, looking up at her with delight in his eyes. “Miss, you understand what my religion is all about! I am so happy to see someone so open to new things! Miss, wouldn’t you consider converting to Christianity for the greater good? I would gladly guide you through the path of redemption and make sure no trace of wrath lingers in your blood!” the girl’s first thought was to snatch her hands away – Touching was an intimate thing only lovers should do, not someone like him! – And yet…Her mid was somewhere else, and it wasn’t until Yin Zhen came to slap away his hands that she came back to. “Don’t touch other people so lightly, foreigner, especially women. It’s an act of intimacy in our country, and it shouldn’t be engaged in unless both parties are familiar with. Better get more accustomed to our ways before you decide to act so freely.” Poison dripped from Zhen’s words as he put his arm protectively around the girl. “Well, what do you expect from foreigners, any way? Especially one so outspoken? They come here, trampling our lands, as if they own the place, then they take away our lands, our women, and then will demand to be kings. Tsk.” Zhi spoke, which made the girl snap her head up at the foreigner. “Alexander, I need your opinion! Just now, you said wrath lingered in my heart, correct? Other than wrath, there is only Pride and Jealousy left. Do you think there is any possibility that either of these two would be a victim to the Seven Deadly Sins criminal?!” the girl’s voice was evidently worried, thinking back at the brothel incident. “The culprit could have put the brothel on fire at any time, and yet, they waited until both Yin Zhen and Yin Zhi were there, and they were drugged, along with the girls. This can’t be just a coincidence, can it?” Y/N spoke out, worried for her two friends. “Miss, this one here reeks of pride and vanity, that much is obvious, while this one’s jealousy can be seen from miles away. Maybe people from around are used to such behaviour, it may be normal for you, and yet, from someone from abroad, with a different kind of lifestyle and society, everything is different. If you think either of you may be in danger, then please, do be careful, and please protect this city. It’s a beautiful place with beautiful people, but it’s been tainted by this killer’s darkness.”With a small smile, the foreigner left the place, as the girl’s hand fell to her side. “…Well, future Emperor, how does it feel to have escaped your first assassination attempt?” she asked dryly, walking back to the inn, while the other two were behind her. “Tsk, are you really going

to listen to that guy? Who does he call vain, anyway?” the 3rd prince scoffed, only for the other two to look at him with a bored expression. “Honestly…” they sighed in unison, not wanting to address the Envy part on Yin Zhen’s side – Why would he be jealous, anyway? And the foreigner only said that after the prince pushed him away from her…

The room was silent for the longest time, and they were ready to go to sleep, until the girl decided to go on the roof of the inn and look up at the moon, as she felt it helped her think better. Being alone always made her feel much better and to think clearer. The moon was full, and she could even see the bunny of Chang’e, the Moon Goddess, and she smiled, resting her chin on her knees.

“You shouldn’t be out alone.” The familiar voice of the 4th Prince came up from behind her, but she could only shrug simply. “I can take care of myself. You’re the one who got drugged and almost died. You were careless and distracted.” She didn’t look at him – In fact, she didn’t shift her gaze from the moon at all. “I admit my mistakes. I was careless. I hoped that I would find out vital information on the people around here – Brothel girls are always the best people to ask for dark secrets, since men are intoxicated and speak freely around them – Alas, all I found out was that the constable is a frequent guest there…But never as a client. They said he was concerned about their well-being. They also said the ones who died deserved to die, since they were dead beats. And the last victim was a lazy who never in his life worked, so his lesson was to contribute to society in any way.” The prince explained, but the girl already figured out as much. “You would know best about being intoxicated and being vulnerable around women, wouldn’t you?” she muttered softly, but her mind was in a complete other place. “Do you blame me for remaining there with my brother?” he asked, sitting down next to her. “No.” her answer was simple and blunt, but he could tell, it didn’t come from the heart. “You should.” He admitted his mistake without a second thought. “…You’re a man. That’s what you do. Besides, you should get used to having lots of beautiful women around you. You’ll be the Emperor one day. You have no choice.” She said in a cold, rather impersonal tone, not wanting to dwell further into this awkward and tragic discussion. “One man can only love a woman alone. His heart is his own, while his body is the country’s. Men who truly love more than one woman are feeble, and should not be trusted.” He explained softly, but the girl didn’t spare him any glance. “In Europe, a King has only one wife, who is the Queen…Only their child is legitimate and the heir to the throne. Any…Mistake the King might do is swept under the rug, and the bastard is hidden from the world, or even killed. And the Queen…The poor Queen is all alone. Her sole role is to bear children and continue the lineage. They are not allowed to do anything, while the country abuses her body and soul, but the King can do anything he pleases, for the whole power is in his hands. Meanwhile…Here, the Emperor is forced to have multiple women as wives, and all can bear legitimate heirs…And yet, ask any woman, and you will see just how lonely and desperate for affection they are. They are not truly loved…But the Emperor goes to them when he remembers them…And sometimes, doesn’t even stay the night. The visits are brief…And when she grows old…She is forgotten, just like a wilting flower. I wonder…Which fate is more cruel? And also…Why should it be cruel at all? The Sun and the Moon are both beautiful, and yet, all alone. Maybe it’s better to be alone than heart broken.” She sighed, getting up and turning to leave, only for the man to stop her by embracing her from behind. “Y/N…Can you feel my heart beating? This heart belongs to you and you alone. It has been that way since we were children. I won’t deny, what you said is true in its whole entirety, but I never felt and thought the same way about a woman as I do for you. I am a man of my word, Y/N, and I vow to you – I vow on this country, and on my name as the next Emperor, that to me, there will never be anyone more important to you. So please, allow me to protect your heart, and I shall gladly give you mine for you to hold. Please trust me as much as you did when you let me catch you whenever you’d jump from the top of a tree, or when you’d find out a secret from your spying around the palace, and you couldn’t help but tell it to me, and me alone. I am yours for the rest of my life…So in turn, be mine, and mine alone.” His embrace tightened, and the girl felt hotter and hotter, her face became flustered, and she could feel her heart beating faster from emotion…And worry. “You are asking a great deal, you know, don’t

you? Something like this can’t be given away so lightly. It’s my heart, and I have only one. Only I know how to protect it…If I give it to you…Any wrong move can make it fall to the ground and shatter. And trust me, there is no remedy for a broken heart. What will you do then…My dear Zhen Zhen?” the term of endearment that she hasn’t used since they were children…How melodious and loving it sounded…The little fawn came back to him. “I would never let that happen. If it falls, I will fall with it, so I can catch it before it reaches the ground. If water rains on it, I will cover it with my own self, so it won’t get wet. If it’s too hot, I will fan it myself, and if it’s too cold, I will make sure to warm it until it’s not trembling any longer. So trust me, just one more time, and I promise you, you will never regret it.” He kissed her temple softly as his hands reache her own, intertwining his fingers with hers – He could feel her trembling softly – He knew the effect he had on her, and of her conflicting thoughts. “…Let me think on it, and I will tell you my answer by the time we reach the capital. Until then…Let’s catch the culprit and be rid of this pestilence. Actually…Let’s visit the constable, for a change. I believe that…He is not as innocent as he seems…And his uselessness may be just an act. If you can’t trust a constable, then who can you trust, the saying goes. So, what do you say? Are you in?” she turned around, failing to meet his eyes, but she could see his smile…As beautiful and confident as ever. “Let’s catch him.” He nodded, and together, they went around the house, their sword in their hands, carefully, and they were going to meet at the back of it, while they investigate every little bit of it – And yet, by the time the prince got to the back…There was no sign of the girl at all. “Y/N? Where are you?” he tried to look around for her…And yet…The only clue that indicated the girl was ever around this place was the blue ribbon that used to hold her hair up.

However, the darkness of the night became an even darker abyss for the prince as well, as he was hit in the head with a metallic object, which had him hazy enough to be dragged into the warehouse just behind the constable’s house. There, he got tied to a chair in the back, as the place was illuminated by a bunch of paper lanterns – And then he saw her – In the same state as him, only she seemed much…Out of it?

“What did you drug me with?” her voice sounded like a drunk man – Slurred and groggy – And yet, his eyes were only set on the small, shiny object in the constable’s hand. It was foreign, and strange…It was…Weird. “It matters not what I did to you, Miss Detective. What matters is that here, you and your dear Prince will face your demise!” the constable, Rui, grinned creepily at her. “…A constable from hell. How unlucky for the people here. Why bring us here?” she continued asking, trying to keep a grip on reality. “Once the verdict is done, I will execute the law. Imperial Detective Constable Y/N. You protect the law. But what have you done wrong? Go on, tell me. I know you know. That friendly foreigner already told you.” He insisted, crouching down to her level. “…My heart is filled with Wrath.” She muttered, feeling her head swimming and spinning in a vertigo mixed with a hurricane. “Yes, good, good, the sinful wench acknowledges her evil-doings! Then, you know that I have to kill you, just as I killed the others! They only brought misfortune to our beloved city! And you…You are the worst of them all. Wrath is the reason everything good gets destroyed. Women, of all people, should be gentle, calm and understanding. You? You behave like a mad war criminal who seeks blood alone!” he screamed in her face, as she could only roll her eyes at his stupid allegations. “Oh, spare me the bullshit. You are the one who bent the law, punish yourself first. You are stupid.” She groaned, feeling a headache creeping. “SHUT UP, BITCH! Who do you think you are, speaking like that to me?!” he said, slapping her face and snatching away the Imperial Token given to her by the Emperor. “You think if you have this token given away from that conceited fraud you call an Emperor, you will be protected from anything? NO! In fact, you and your two silly princes just signed a death sentence coming here! But, alas, I couldn’t do away with them when I wanted to, you just HAD to folly my plans! Very well, then, I shall do away with you first, while he watches you physically feel the very same wrath you inflicted upon this world!” and thus, he took a syringe and, despite all her struggling, she was still bound to the chair, and he had no problem injecting her with more of whatever that horrible liquid was – It made her even hazier than before, and her vision became blurry – Not even by straining, could she see well in front of her anymore – And it made her panic, trying to breathe faster, as she felt the cold metallic barrel of the weapon placed cruelly on her forehead – It only made her skin feel even hotter than it already was. “So, I’m guilty…For being alive. For trying to save people. And you…You are…Innocent. You are a hero…For killing. You are no God. You have no right to take away the lives God gave to those people. You are not the Judge, nor the Executioner. If you so firmly believe in Christianity, you would know that God hates no one – In fact, he loves all he created, equally – And would never approve of such senseless killing. You just chose to pick apart a few paragraphs that suited your narrative… And you went with it, using a foreign Deity as your scape goat. You are absolutely pathetic and a sorry excuse of a man and a constable. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Her words shocked the prince, but also made him afraid for her – Unlike her, he could see the twisted look of anger on his face – And he could anticipate his next move – As he saw the culprit strike down the girl once again, with such force that the chair tipped over and she fell on the ground with it. “I shall now pass my verdict to this witch! Those who are foolish and arrogant are unreasonable. It is from excessive arrogance, for deceiving the holy court and committing falsehood…I declare Y/N, the Imperial Detective Constable, to be executed at exactly 2:00 in the morning.” He declared, looking at the sand falling down in an hourglass, and leaving the room just briefly. “Yin Zhen…Is there any way out for us?”Y/N asked, hoping she was loud enough for the prince to

hear. “Yes, there is. I just need a little more time. Y/N…Do you know what that metallic object was?” he asked, trying to cut away the ropes with a stray nail he found on the chair. “It’s a gun. Horrible European invention. Honestly…I’m so tired. I just…Want to rest for a while…And get this over with…I want back home…I want to see the mountains in Hunan again…And the flowers bloom. I want to play in the river and catch fish…And pick fruit from up the tree…And make wine and cakes…And have them with you….Yin Zhen?” she let her head back on the chair’s seat, looking up at the wooden ceiling, as she sighed deeply. “Let’s get the hell out of here, I’m so done with sins and whatever.” And thanking herself for training to be flexible, and that the ropes were tied as neatly as they should have been, she bent down enough for her tied up hand to reach into her hair and pull away the hair ornament that had a very sharp needle, so she could cut away her restraints with moderate ease.

However, as soon as she got up and tried to take a step forward…She stumbled and almost fell down. “Is this what it’s like to be drunk? Because if it is…I hate it.” She groaned, gripping her head, as everything began to spin in around her at an even faster pace, so badly, that she had to catch onto something. “Y/N, look out!” the prince yelled at her, as the constable came back, ready to pounce on her, but she turned around, slamming her needle hand into his flesh, as she tried to pull away his gun-hand from her as much as possible.

However, the needle was very old, and it broke from all the commotion – Her drugged self was none the better either – And with just a bit more strength put into it, the constable wrenched his gun arm from her grasp and he punched her to the ground, knocking out the air from her lungs. It really pissed her off, and she wanted to rip him apart limb from limb, but the drugs were too strong still to allow her to do anything that she wanted to do.

As she struggled to get up, she heard the unfamiliar sound of the gun cocking, and then, a demonically loud explosion – Was that the sound of the gun shooting? She wondered, and yet, why didn’t it hurt her? Why didn’t she feel anything? She was sure that, should he shoot, he would shoot her – He wanted her to be in pain and feel the physical consequences of implied wrath.

“Y/N, are you alright?!” ah, that’s Yin Zhen calling out her name like that! And he was struggling…Yes, he must be wrestling the killer. “Yeah, I’m good, but be careful with that gun! One shot and it could kill you!” she called back, and got on her knees as soon as she heard the sound of the heavy, metal object fall to the ground.

As she heard the two men struggling to take the other down, she searched around almost blindly for the gun, and after some time, she finally managed to catch a hold of it, and with shaky hands, she properly held it in her hands, the barrel pointing forwards. The killer was dressed I dark colours, while Yin Zhen’s whole outfit was a bright gold, so, as Y/N strained her eyes to see better, she took a deep breath and pulled the trigged – And then static – Her ears were ringing, and she groaned, the gun falling from her hands as she gripped her head, covering her ears, hoping the horrible ringing noise would stop already.

“Yin Zhen, are you okay?!” she called out, struggling to get back to the shaky reality, hoping the drug’s effect would go away faster already. “…Yeah. You killed him. It’s finally over.” He sighed, going to her side and picking her up bridal style, leaving the place and going back to the inn. However, instead of going back inside, the prince made a detour, and chose to go to the highest hill, where the flowery trees were untouched by the city. “How did you know where to shoot, despite being drugged and not seeing well?” he asked, very curious, as they sat down on the grass, at the bottom of a tree. “…I may sometimes make fun of you for wearing such bright and colourful clothes…But if it was Yin Zhi, I wouldn’t have been able to pick apart the two silhouettes. So, to answer your question…Pure luck, I guess.” She shrugged, sighing and leaning her head on his shoulder, looking up at the moon, seeing it fall down, as the dawn was beginning to come, and the sky was painted in the most beautiful colours there were – And even better, her vision was beginning to clear up. “Let’s hope we won’t have to deal with anything foreign again. This was more of a drag than it should have been.”The prince said, and the girl could only grumble in agreement. “Ah…Right. Uhm…This…It broke. I don’t think it can be repaired anymore.” She muttered sadly as she took out the broken hair pin from her pocket. “This…I didn’t realise you still had this. It’s been so long since I gave you this pin.” He gingerly took it in his hands, but it wasn’t sorrow on his face – No, instead, he was smiling, realizing the feelings she had for him were as strong as ever. “…It’s the only piece of jewellery I wore since then.” Her voice was soft, the little fawn was brave, and speaking. She was honest with herself, with her heart…And with him. “No matter. I can give you any jewellery you want. This was old and I’m surprised it lasted as much.” He chuckled lightly, but the girl shook his head, confusing him. “…I don’t want any jewellery, Yin Zhen. You don’t get it. This…You picked this, thinking of me. You wanted this hair pin to be mine. To wear it. You thought it suited me. You thought it would make me think of you…And it did. And I only wore this one, and every day. I knew it would keep me safe…So I put it on again just before approaching that house. Guess your heart will always protect me. So, you understand? I don’t want just any jewellery. I want a piece of your heart, soul and thoughts to be in anything you give me, otherwise, it’s completely worthless to me.” She explained, snatching back the pieces of the broken accessory, making the prince smile fondly at her. “Very well, I understand what you mean, and I know just what to do. So, for the first gift I will give you…Have this jade pendant. I had it made for me a long while ago. It’s been mine, so, it’s a part of me. And now, I give it to you, to watch over you and protect you. I held it on my sword’s scabbard, I think it suits the black and gold of it very well…And so will yours.” He declared, taking both his and her swords, and trading the two pendants on each sword. “And I shall take yours, as a gift, so I can have a piece of your heart with me as well, wherever I go and you’re not next to me.” His teasing smile crept on his face as he heard her chuckle, snatching her pendant from his hand, tying it to his sword by herself. “That’s much better. It counts when the other gives it to you themselves, dummy.” She let him hold her to his side, as they watched the sky in silence.

When morning finally came, they got up, ready to wake up a very grumpy 3rdPrince, then went to the brothel matron to tell her they will be leaving, and who the real killer was, so they can find themselves a new law enforcer…This time, not a homicidal one.

“Are you sure you won’t be staying one more night, cutie? I mean, we didn’t even have the time to get acquainted with each other…It’s pitiful.” The woman whined, but the prince was indifferent. “There is only one woman alone who owns my heart.” He chuckled, waving the girls goodbye as they got on their horses and went back to the capital. “Very smooth, Princeling.” The girl laughed at him, kicking the horse to go faster, almost as if she was challenging him for a race. “I know what I want in this life.”He declared, and for the remaining long journey, they’ve been teasing each other enough for the 3rd prince to curse them regularly…More so than usual.

“I am very proud of the three of you for solving such a horrible crime. And to think the constable himself was the perpetrator all along! To attempt to commit such a horrible act of regicide…I am glad he got killed by his own weapon.” The Emperor sighed, stroking his beard and shaking his head in disbelief and disappointment. “Father, without Y/N, we couldn’t have done it. She played the crucial role in all the mystery-solving and having the courage to fire such a dangerous and strange contraption. It was lucky she was versed enough in foreign culture and literature for her to pick up on the hints given by the killer at each crime.” The 4th Prince praised the Detective girl, who merely cleared her throat awkwardly. “Your father will be very proud of you when I tell him of your brave deeds! I will have to think of a reward for you, but if you have something in your mind, do tell, and anything shall be granted.”The Emperor spoke, dismissing them. As they bowed, ready to exit the room, the girl smirked, turning around playfully. “I want to marry your son.” She laughed, running away from the Palace of Mental Cultivation, back to her own small place, leaving the two princes and the Emperor to blink and gasp in shock at her boldness. “About time.” Yin Zhen huffed, smirking, as he rushed to catch up with her as well. “Those two are such idiots…But I guess…Together, they will be good rulers in the future. Don’t you think, Father?” the 3rdPrince smirked in amusement, looking out at those two. “This youthfulness and open-mindedness is sure to be a great addition to this country in the future. Until them, let them be children at heart, for just a little while longer.” The Emperor chuckled whole-heartedly, closing his eyes and reminding his own youth, as it was so long ago.

Back at her palace, she hid behind the heavy drapes as she quickly and very skillfully fidgeted with a red rope – She’s been practicing it for a long time, and by now, she could say she was sort of an expert at this – And before she realized it, the drape was strongly pulled away, and in front of her, an amused prince towered over her, not caring about the poor maid’s pleas to get out.

“Found you.” He watched carefully as he noticed her face raise, and her eyes directly look into his – She got more courage, this fawn – He wondered if she really was just a sweet fawn anymore, or if another spirit animal found its way inside her heart. “Found me.” She mused, holding up the red knot for him to take. “This…This is the Love Knot, isn’t it? I’ve never seen it before.” He spoke, taking it from her hands. “And now, you give it to me. When did you even have the time to make something so intricate and complex, anyway?” he asked, looking at it with adoration. “I practiced it a lot when I was in the mountains, training. And besides…You sure took your sweet time getting here. Were you really so stunned by my statement that it took you so long to move?”she teased him, only for the man to quickly cup her face and kiss her – Her lips were as sweet as the last time they touched, and yet, now it was a proper kiss, and now, he felt her slender, small hands over his, as she deepened it with even more love, not wanting to let go of him any time soon. “I’m not the only one who loves to surprise.” The prince let out a soft, content breath, as he watched her eyes sparkle brighter than the moon itself…And she looked very much kissed – And her lips…They were plump, and in very need of more attention. “Clearly.” The corner of her mouth sprung upwards, very amused by his statement. “So, princeling, if your Father decides not to kill me after the stunt I pulled at the palace…Then, you got your answer. But, be very aware, I am not afraid to commit regicide on you, should you be a jerk to be at any time, understood?” she glared at him, more or less seriously, as she grabbed the front of his clothes, dragging him down to her level. “Crystal clear, darling.” He chuckled, nodding in understanding. “Good. Then, kiss me again.” She ordered, and he could only comply. “Any time, Y/N. Any time.”

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ato-matsuri · 4 years ago

Text

On Agartha

Been a while since I’ve written a long text post, most of all one about Fate. It honestly inspires a lot of rambling in me, after all. But I don’t think, this time, it’s due to its good writing, the emotions it makes me feel, or anything good. This, my friend, is about Agartha. I should probably prelude that this contains a metric shit ton of Agartha spoilers. If you haven’t seen Agartha, and you’re actually wanting to see the story -- scroll past. But, having played through Agartha completely and rested on the story for a bit, I think I want to repeat what everyone else has for ages lol.

Agartha, on paper, is incredible. A subterranean world built off fantastical story off fantastical story, made by a woman known for her ability to weave story after story, within stories, on the fly, and from a database of every possible Arabian Nights tale. Where the fear Scheherazade has due to Shahryar's endless abuse and fearmongering has stretched even to men as a whole due to literal years of having to survive Shahryar. Where the only leaders were queens, where the only rebellion force was a man so horrifically corrupt that he'd easily fall for the tricks she played. Her intent -- to reveal magecraft forever, removing any power magecraft has, saving her from ever having to fight and face kings -- and die -- ever again. That... sounds pretty good when I describe it that way, huh? Now if only it were executed with any modicum of sense.

From the beginning, Agartha's writing struck me as remarkably odd. It was like I was watching someone desperately try to emulate Nasu's writing style -- but had absolutely no idea what made Nasu's writing so good. Its exposition dumps, rather than being interesting, ended up being thoroughly boring -- as they focused on the mundane, like the fact that moss glows to light up the landscape -- instead of the magical implications of a world like Agartha even existing to begin with. Albeit, with the mystery of Agartha at that time, we can safely assume that there wasn't much to focus on, but then why spend so damned long talking about this stuff?

The worldbuilding, while passable, feels fairly flawed in execution. The idea of a world made the way Agartha was could've made for some interesting commentary about the way men treated (and still do treat) women in modern society, but Agartha not only misses the point, but tumbles head-over-ass into the uncanny valley and makes the whole thing sound like a continent-wide BDSM session. There's barely any actual subtle or well-done symbolism to showcase misogyny in this way -- and while hyperbole can serve a good point at times, the hyperbole combined with the strangely sexual writing of these segments makes it feel less like commentary and more like a badly-done doujin.

For example -- El Dorado was as simple as it gets. Men are slaves/breeding machines/whatever. The whole 'breeding machine' thing is played off extensively, even with Penth -- a minor at this stage, mind you -- comments on using the protagonists as such breeding machines. I'll come back to this later, because this serves as another point.

Ys was a fucking cool concept -- a world ruled entirely by rampant consumerism and chaos. Men, in this world, are still second-class citizens, pretty much the playthings of the women around them. I say that Ys is the best kingdom comparatively, as it was at least more bearable than its other kingdoms, but it still felt weirdly sexual in its writing tone. Of course, following tone, Dahut (who I'll get back to later) smashes men constantly, and is very keen on fucking Guda as well, following a trend. It's played for comedy, mostly, but it's still uncomfortable as all hell. Even so, I note it's more bearable because it's a very slightly more subtle take on the whole 'misogyny' allegory -- these people are using men for basically whatever they want, and tossing them away after. I'd compare it to a few true crime cases of people who murdered, or assaulted women for no good reason at all, purely out of a want that was either denied (for good reason), or that the want itself was to inflict harm. While the allegory still does feel unintentional here, it's at least slightly less unintentional. It was probably mostly just by accident due to Agartha's generally uncomfortable writing style, but the allegory here feels a little more potent when it's not so blatantly a BDSM fic.

I hate the Nightless City, despite it again being a cool concept. A 'utopia' where speaking out at all means death -- where men are in concept free citizens, but in practice fall victim to the law if they look at someone funny. Again, in concept, great allegory. The law does not treat men and women the same -- and while it differs depending on the case which is preferred, the vast majority of the time, women are pretty much shafted by the legal system (see Brock Turner), especially in very conservative areas. Cases can be made for both genders being shafted, of course -- but for the purpose of this allegory, picking out the prejudices of the legal system against gender is a fair critique. But, like everything else Agartha does, these neat ideas fall flat in practice.

They barely touch at all on the allegory, and nobody seems to even realize it in the cast, making me further believe the allegories aren't intentional at all. In due fact, it's as if the writer didn't even realize that this could be read as an allegory. The men's plights make some sense, as they were yoinked out of nowhere into a world that hates them. But the Servants and Guda don't think about it at all past the 'wow men are slaves that sucks' -- barely even considering that this could be an allegory the world's creator made due to their own horrific circumstances. They do point this out, but to my knowledge, it's very late -- when Scheherazade's called on her bluff, only then is it ever mentioned, and only in passing at that. If anything, the fact they point this out so close to the ending makes the ending itself that much more insulting. But before I get to the ending, I think there's something else about Agartha that sets the scene for just how awful it is -- and that's the way the characters are written, and the dialogue that comes of it. For this, I'll split it up into the characters who portray this the most. I'll even describe their personalities in Agartha's context.

Guda: Crouching pervert, hidden Mash stan. A few non-sequiturs of Guda complimenting Mash despite the mood being completely broken by it. Guda's incapable of taking a situation seriously in Agartha, even when the world's basically due to be changed forever. They keep cracking jokes, creeping on Astolfo/d'Eon, and other such things even when people are literally dying all around him. For that matter, I clearly recall the scene where -- for no real reason -- Guda just changes gears with Mash in tow, and starts trying to decipher d'Eon's gender. There's absolutely no real context to this, nor any reason for Guda to do this. Further noted is the fact Guda has worked with d'Eon before, and should've probably realized d'Eon's situation by this point. The Nasuverse has always been a bit, er, behind on gender norms and such, but it's so prevalent in any scene with d'Eon it hurts -- especially in that particular scene.

Astolfo: Oddly enough, the most tolerable person here (sans one other person). Agartha's refusal to take itself seriously works remarkably well for Astolfo. And while Astolfo isn't exactly written well here either, the fact that Astolfo's always been a bit loopy makes them seem, well, more in character. They're responsible for some of the funnier moments in Agartha, with their input composing approximately 3/4 of the, like, seven or eight funny moments in Agartha proper. Even so, Astolfo's appearance sometimes hurts Agartha as much as they help it, probably since Astolfo is a bit of the reason Agartha won't take itself seriously.

d'Eon: Deserved fucking better. The previously mentioned scene was the worst offender by far in my eyes, with it coming out of fucking nowhere. d'Eon's paired with Astolfo as a buddy and fighting partner, which itself could've made for good material -- instead, d'Eon is constantly dragged into Astolfo's fanservice-y gimmicks, and d'Eon themselves are pretty often creeped on by Guda. I'd go out on a limb to say that d'Eon's implied dislike of gendered clothing (see the maid outfit) made their scenes wearing such outfits far more uncomfortable, especially with how distinctly sexual the Agartha humour is. I just hated it.

Columbus: I can't fucking believe I'm saying this, but Columbus was the funniest character in Agartha. And I don't even think that was intentional. Something about how unabashedly horrible he was caught me completely off guard -- I thought he'd end up sort of like Napoleon at a glance, someone whose Spirit Origin was completely changed due to Europe's collective worship of the dude -- but holy FUCK was I wrong. Something about the hilariously cursed faces Columbus pulls, combined with his loud-and-proud irredeemable evilness, made him a blast to watch -- and an even bigger blast to beat the shit out of. His, uh, toothy grin still cracks me up even a few weeks after playing it.

Penthesilea: One of a very large amount of people who really deserved better. She barely ever shows up -- and when she does, she voices her desire to turn Guda and co. into a breeding machine/slave (recall she's like. 16?), and pretty much throws the whole 'reasonable-ish zerk' thing out the window instantly, because Agartha decided to forego decent writing in favour of 'funny berserker hates achilles haha brrrrrr,' therefore losing pretty much all the characterization they could've given her. The lack of 'alternate views' that show her in greater detail make this far worse, which I'll go into later.

Dahut: God, wasted potential out the asshole! A woman who made an entire world that fucked around and needlessly consumed stuff, she's the epitome of such a belief. But that's all she is. I'd be able to forgive this awful writing if Scheherazade, who 'implanted' Drake onto Dahut, was a bad writer -- but she's fucking Scheherazade! Dahut's a completely flat character, who constantly tries to bed (and kill) Guda, and generally likes the idea of needless consumption. That's literally it. Again, could be explained if Dahut had difficulty keeping control of Drake's body and conscience -- but this isn't explored either! She's just a walking, talking missed opportunity.

Wu: God, look at her design. Do I even need to say more?! She falls under the same problem that the other rulers do -- shallow characterization, no opportunities to flesh them out, etc.

Scheherazade: She could've been so fucking amazing. Scheherazade's story is one ripe with interpretations the Fate series so loves to utilize -- and on paper, her character is amazing. It'd only be natural for someone like Schez to be this deeply traumatized after so many days on death's door -- not many could really get through that okay. The incredible storyteller who fears death, kings, and unconsciously, men as a whole -- creating Agartha as a subtle way of ensuring none of them harm her while she prepares her ultimate plan of revealing magecraft to the entire world. However, as with the other Agartha characters, she becomes cripplingly one-note. Bringing her fear of death above all else, she comes off as an unreasonable asshole, constantly freaking out about death and preserving exclusively herself to a fault. While one could argue it's partially due to a Pillar's influence, Phenex doesn't seem to have a hold on her at all -- it's a basic alliance, and nothing more, as the ending shows us. It just leaves her as a one-note death avoider, with no other character traits at all. I'd go into further detail, but I'm saving that for later.

Fergus: God fucking damnit, man. A literal child version of Fergus, who the entire cast constantly expects to sexually harass every woman in sight. He's a one-note flanderization of Fergus, just without the one character trait Agartha gave Fergus. It just makes him... boring, a character whose only character trait is his refusal to hit a woman. Like... Come on. The fact the entire team is so sure this literal child will start trying to hit on women is just uncomfortable to witness, and the fact he slowly starts gaining these traits feels less like him 'meeting his fate' as Fergus, and more like Agartha wants an excuse to sexually harass more of the cast.

The Fucking Ending I'm giving this its own category, because of just how much of a punch to the face it was. In short -- the plan to reveal magecraft is revealed, more jokes are made, bla bla bla. Agartha can't keep a serious mood at all. ...But the final few scenes take it to a whole other extreme.

Wu Zetian comes out of nowhere despite being squashed by Megalos earlier, stuffing Phenex into a pit of her weird water shit, placing Phenex in a state of 'life and death.' Child Fergus then sac's his own Spirit Origin to summon Fergus inside himself(???), thus gaining the power of Caladbolg to weaken Phenex enough for the player to destroy. ...However, Child Fergus just summoned Fergus inside his own body. So, what happens when you put Agartha!Fergus, a one-note sexual harasser, into the body of a child? You get the final scene of Agartha. For some reason, I guess you need more help from others to take out Phenex. To this end, Fergus decides to convince Schez to join their side. I'd like you to recall that FGO!Scheherazade is implied to have the trauma of Shahryar's abuse, sexual and physical, burned into her memory -- not just the whole death thing. In every form of the story, Shahryar abuses her in such a fashion almost nightly. It's to the point where Schez' first line of defence, and much of her skills, are as much oriented around storytelling as they are charm and seduction (moreso the former than the latter, albeit), because her defence mechanism was that as much as it was storytelling, to keep her abuser happy. This is a part of why Agartha is the way it is -- to keep such men away from her. Hell, there's not a single King in sight, save technically Fergus, and Chaldea's d'Eon and Astolfo. Fergus knows this. Hell, he heard this being called out. He's well aware how terrified she is. So, what does he do?

SEXUALLY HARASS HER. He claims she has to live to have kids. That men and women have to live to have kids. He claims that she should live, because he'd smash her. ...Now, that's insulting enough -- moreso, that it's played dead serious. Nobody even as much as calls him on such a shitty persuasion tactic, and nobody even mentions how awful it is to sexually harass a woman who'd been sexually assaulted at best for the better part of almost three straight years. AND IT. FUCKING. WORKS.

SCHEHERAZADE. IS IMPLIED. TO BE INTO IT.

And because of this, she's swayed to join the heroes and seal Phenex away for good -- giggling about how Fergus' worldview was partially correct even as she fades away. The epilogue features Fergus, sexually harassing Scheherazade ON SIGHT -- calling out 'tits on my 12:00' or whatever, as Scheherazade darts off. However, Schez isn't avoiding him due to trauma. She's avoiding it because, while she's into it, she doesn't want to 'die' so fast. This fucking ending highlights among the biggest issues with this damned Singularity. Even Blavatsky coming out of fucking nowhere to Deus Ex Machina a grail and help into Guda's hands -- despite seemingly being slaughtered by Columbus in a (admittedly a bit funny) way to get the base of the Resistance -- means nothing to me compared to the blatant slaughter of two characters at once. Fergus is a total horndog even outside of Agartha's reach, but he even notes he respects his partners' consent, and doesn't overstep his bounds if he makes them uncomfortable. Scheherazade isn't exactly trusting in the slightest, least of all in Agartha - she barely even begins trusting Guda due to Guda treating her with actual respect. Even then, she isn't actively prostrating herself for Guda in that sense, very likely due to the fact that's more of a defence mechanism to her rather than something she'd enjoy, due to extreme trauma. Albeit, Fate writing does leave the possibility in the air for Guda specifically, but that's very likely just due to Guda being Guda and being careful to treat her properly and help her than anything else (and also the whole 'self insert harem' thing, I guess, but that's a hell of a lot easier to ignore esp in contrast to Agartha) And yet, we see that epilogue, that butchers both of them in one fell swoop so badly that I almost ended up hating both of them. Agartha's biggest problem is that it tried to be deep and intriguing, while having the writing quality of the goddamned Valentine's events. It picked all the right characters to have an incredibly intriguing storyline, and fell flat because the author decided that playing sexual harassment, d'Eon's everything, and even the most serious scenes for comedy was more important than telling a story even half as meaningful as the chapters before it. Lo and behold -- to my knowledge, Minase wrote it. Of course he did. He chose the best, the most interesting characters he could find, and made them so fucking one-note that the story lost all its charm in moments. He chose to emulate Nasu without understanding what made Nasu's writing so good. He chose to make Agartha a laugh fest despite simultaneously trying to make it 'deep.' He chose to fall head-over-ass over a possibly interesting allegory into misogyny and fall right into sexualizing it to the point of feeling like a femdom BDSM fic. And go figure the only character he did decently was Christopher fucking Columbus. I have a hatred for Agartha I can't reasonably place anywhere else. Prillya was just as shitty, but I ignored it, because Prillya itself wasn't great, so of course the crossover sucks too. Valentine's events written by him weren't great, but whatever, it's a Valentine's event. Septem, written by someone else, was similarly not great. But it wasn't insulting. It simply wasn't great, and had a lot of wasted potential. But its ending wasn't out of character to the point of being insulting. Its story didn't make incredible mythological and historical figures too infuriating to like anymore. It didn't almost ruin entire Fate characters for me. Not the way Agartha did. I should probably contextualize that Scheherazade is among my favourite mythological figures. I introduced myself to her through Magi (lmao) due to further research into the base stories -- as well as a favourite Magic: The Gathering card, Shahrazad, which forced you to play a game within your game, like how Arabian Nights featured stories within stories.

Even in Fate outside of Agartha, I liked her. Her design didn't make much sense to me considering her character, but whatever, I didn't need to think too hard of it. It's just a design, and despite my hatred of Penth's design, I still love Penth as a character, so I can handle Schez. But Agartha painted her in such a way that all the subtlety and interesting parts of Schez went completely out the window. No longer was there any hidden references to the aftereffects of her life beyond 'i dun wan die,' and there was hardly an ounce of sympathy or kindness in her bones at all. While her being an anti-hero made some sense, especially as she was only a normal person with far above-average storytelling prowess, there was a point when she stopped being a 'good, but terrified person' and started being a complete asshole. And Agartha was that time. If it weren't for her Interlude, which redeemed her considerably, and Ooku, which did wonders for her character despite being written by Minase (as I believe Nasu was overseeing him at that point), I very likely would've never gone for her at all, despite my love of the myth. In Conclusion This rant is just to say that Agartha is bad. Horrific. Insulting, even. At every step where it could've been good, it tumbled head-over-ass into the most insulting, uncomfortable shit you could imagine. It failed to take itself seriously, and paced itself like a comedy event, but simultaneously acted as if it expected its audience to take it seriously. Like a clown brigade deciding to take on Les Mis, it loses all of its punch when every few lines is interrupted by a jab at Fergus, sexual harassment, or something that comes close to being cool before suddenly turning into a badly-timed joke, or suddenly becoming laden with dialogue so sexual it feels straight out of a porno. It's aggravating, awful, and with only brief reprieves of bareable comedy in between long, long lengths of hellish text and awful characterization. The only good part was the gameplay -- which, laden with interesting mechanics not seen elsewhere, was legitimately fun. My take? Avoid all Agartha cutscenes and plot, and just play the gameplay. The gameplay's fun, and if enjoyed on its own, would probably make for a far better experience than observing the story surrounding it. But good gameplay doesn't make up for a horrible story, especially in a game where plot is as important as it is in F/GO. Agartha's a pile of shit in my eyes, but that's ultimately only my opinion, and nothing more. If others have an opinion counter to mine, that's completely fine -- and don't let this analysis ruin your fun with Agartha if you enjoyed its plot. To be frank, I'd be happy if you enjoyed it where I could not. And if you think my takes are misinformed, or if I missed a spot (or overreacted to a spot), that's what the reblogs and comments are for! I'm definitely not the kind of dude who has the final say in matters like this -- this is only what I picked up. Thank you for reading!

#fate grand order #fate #f/go #fate/grand order #mash kyrielight #agartha #agartha fgo #tldr i hated it lol #agartha spoilers #rape tw #rape cw

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gohyuck · 4 years ago

Text

part 1 is out now! here

pairing: greaser!jeno lee x rich!reader; ft. brother!johnny

genre: greaser!au; runaways!au; criminal!au; angst/fluff/smut

word count: 2k

warnings: none

a/n: this is just a prologue (but you should still read it 😉) and it provides some context for the events of the main story... part of the criminal collaboration by @neovisioned

let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

April 13th, 1956

There’s a couple of lilies in a transparent vase, half filled up (half emptied out? you ponder this in an attempt to keep your mind off of what is right in front of you) with water that likely hasn’t been changed since before the weekend. Jojo, the class pet, runs on his wheel, keeping a surprisingly steady pace for a hamster. He pays no mind to his surroundings. What it must be like - to be completely and utterly unperturbed and unaffected by those around him. Maybe you’ll be reborn as a hamster in your next life. A quick glance (your fourth in maybe three minutes) around the tense room at the rest of your classmates and at the teacher leaves you hoping.

The clock’s ticking is louder than usual - though that may just be your mind playing tricks on you - and the room seems to be holding its breath as a singular entity rather than a whole composed of twenty-three individuals (one of whom is the teacher himself), or parts, within it. The whole situation is like a suspenseful movie scene - you know something big is going to happen, and soon - it’s just that none of you have any idea of what it’ll actually be. All eyes are focused on one person - a person who’s up on his feet with a previously pristine stationary-based letter crumpled between his fingers and who is staring holes through the teacher up front, who just so happens to be the sorry individual who had handed him said letter. The teacher, a man whose knuckles have more hair than his head, is trying his best to stare back. He can’t quite match the student’s gaze.

You glance down at your desk at the wrong moment. Before you can even register that anyone has moved, the distinct sound of a textbook hitting the floor startles you. A chair follows it. Before you can look up, the classroom door shuts with a resounding bang. The crumpled up letter is on the floor by the door. Mr. Simmons, in all his balding, middle-aged, beginnings-of-a-beer-belly glory, stands in front of the chalkboard, mouth open in a comically wide look of shock.

After what has to be more than just mere minutes, your English teacher decides that the lesson must go on, and in the midst of telling the class (now with twenty one students and one teacher) more about Shakespeare’s specific usage of language in The Taming of The Shrew, he subconsciously wipes his chalky hands on the front of his pressed khakis. You wince. That’ll be hell to wash. A girl behind you snickers behind her hand to the boy beside her that it looks like Simmons does cocaine. Somebody wonders aloud, though in a quiet enough whisper that Simmons himself can’t hear, who would sell a man like your English teacher coke.

A smart-mouthed class-clown type in the back heaves a cough that sounds oddly like “Jeno Lee”. laughter ripples through twenty seniors. you don’t join in.

Jeno Lee.

You hadn’t even caught sight of his scuffed black Chuck Taylors or the back of his hand-me-down leather jacket when he’d stormed from the room. There was no glint of his pocketknife, either. You’ve come to see all three as hallmarks of his persona.

There’s a lingering smell of smoke in the air, though. His seat, after all, is only two over from yours to your right, and you’ve always been unlucky with inhaling his secondhand smoke. Rumor has it that he smokes two packs a day.

Somehow you doubt that, though.

Maybe you’re naive, but, after all, nobody with a smile like that can plow through 40 cigarettes in 24 hours.

♕ ♕ ♕

April 16, 1956

That's the last class you ever have with jeno. His desk is noticeably empty the next day, and the next, and the next after that until your teacher finally - though with an air of relief you find at least mildly despicable - lets his remaining students know that Jeno will no longer be attending your high school, or any high school at all. You don’t pretend to understand - there’s only about four weeks left until you’re all set to graduate, anyways - but you also don’t pretend to be surprised.

The recycling bin hasn’t been emptied for days. In what’s far from your proudest moment, you stay after class - waiting until Simmons himself walks out to check on what sounds like a hallway fight between two boys - to dig through it, trying to hide your triumphant smile from your own self when you find the crumpled paper Jeno had discarded on his last day here. It had very obviously made him angry, angry enough to drop out, and the wonder of what might be in it is killing you.

After all, he’d been good eye-candy in class, at the very least. You kind of miss him being there, even if you’re the only one who does. You squint, trying to make out what the ink on the paper says.

It’s a letter - specifically it’s a letter from the Neo Institute of Technology, easily one of the most difficult universities to get into in your state. Your fingers twitch as you battle internally over whether to open it or not - rejection is hard to deal with, even if it isn’t your own. Your school sends hardly two or three people to NeoTech per year, and there’s no way someone like Jeno could’ve gotten in. Eventually, your curiosity wins over, though not before Simmons walks back into the room and you find yourself telling him that you’d tripped and fallen near the recycling, all while hiding Jeno’s letter behind your back.

♕ ♕ ♕

Your brother, home from college for the weekend, is lying languidly across the couch, hand in a bag of chips when you walk in through the front door. You aren’t surprised - you’d seen his prized red Chevy Bel Air convertible parked out front when you’d stopped to pick up the mail. You realize fairly quickly that he’s the only one home - your mother must be at a book club meeting, and your father is still at his 9 to 5. it’s just you and the devil himself.

Johnny raises one chip-dust covered hand in greeting before turning back to whatever old western rerun is playing on the TV. For your part, you pay him no mind, dropping the mail - some bills, a... magazine, a reminder card from the dentist - on the kitchen counter while shouldering your backpack to keep it from falling.

“Hey, John?” You finally call, already halfway up the stairs.

He grunts in response, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. You consider not telling him for a moment, but then realize that you really don’t want to witness the screaming match your parents will have with him if they get to it before your brother does.

It, of course, being his not-so-guilty pleasure.

“This month’s Playboy came in. it’s on the counter.” You finally say, though not before throwing him as disgusted a look as you can muster once you see the way your brother perks up immediately. Pig. He drops the chip bag onto the coffee table, scattering bits and pieces of food across it. You don’t hold out hope for him to clean it up. You also don’t wait around to watch him grab his magazine, instead making your way up the stairs and into your room, finally free to be truly alone for the first time all day.

You shut the door, making sure it’s locked properly, before dropping your backpack on the floor and jumping backwards, bouncing once, onto your bed. The letter’s been in your hand since you’d found it, and you can’t help but feel mildly excited - and also, of course, just a little bad - as you smooth it out in your lap against your plaid skirt. Slowly, very slowly, you pull it open, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see.

Dear Mr. Jeno Lee,

Once again, on the behalf of the admissions board at NeoTech, I extend a hearty congratulations to you for being accepted as a member of the class of 1961. The School of Engineering looks forward to witnessing your growth over the next four years, and we know that, upon your graduation, you will make us proud as an alumnus. However-

You pause in your reading, blinking rapidly in mild disbelief. Jeno - Jeno Lee, known for being a greaser and a hooligan, a threat and a terror - had gotten into NeoTech? The realization shakes you, causing you to blow air out through your lips before you continue reading.

However, we find that we will have to rescind your full scholarship. I understand that you may find it difficult to pay tuition, but there just seems to be nothing we can do: we request a disciplinary record for each student, and yours is riddled with fights and altercations with both students and teachers, especially one Mr. Richard Simmons. Typically, this would be grounds for rescission, but considering how stellar your grades and essays are, we will allow you a probationary semester.

You will still have to pay your tuition in its entirety. The first semester payment of $1,200 is due by Friday, April 20, 1956. If you cannot pay it, I’m afraid that we will be unable to take you on for the fall semester.

Best regards and congratulations once again,

Sooman Lee, Neo Institute of Technology President and Board Chairman

Although you’re still surprised at him having gotten in - internalized prejudice, your brain whispers to you, and you hate that it’s right - your heart twists as you read the letter over and over again. $1,200 is steep for a college, and you know that there’s no way in hell Jeno can ever fork that up. Of course, you realize, heaving a heavy, heavy sigh as you do, he no longer can guarantee getting a high school diploma anyways. His rescission from NeoTech must be on its way to his mailbox already.

Before you can think too deeply into Jeno Lee and his now-precarious future, a loud knock interrupts you, causing you to swiftly slide the letter underneath your bed. You never know if Johnny’s going to try and pick the lock on your bedroom door or not, though you’re glad to see that he stops short of doing so this time.

“What?” You ask, your tone as annoyed as possible.

“Don’t ‘what?’ me, shithead,” Your brother responds, throwing your tone of voice right back at you. “Mom’s back, wants your help with dinner.”

“Why can’t you help for once, you ass?” You snark, sliding off of your bed regardless. The door swings open just as you unlock it, revealing your brother smirking down at you in a way that makes you want to right hook him directly in the face.

“Men aren’t made for the kitchen.” Is all he says, stepping back so you can get out. Before you can reprimand him, threatening to kick his patronizing and patriarchal ass, Johnny disappears into his own bedroom, slamming the door shut.

“(Name)?” Your mother calls, sounding displeased at having to wait for you. You groan, pulling your own bedroom door shut before bounding down the stairs. As rock-and-roll music starts pouring out of Johnny’s room, no doubt courtesy of the radio he’d gotten as a high school graduation gift, and as your mother thrusts a rolling pin into your hands while grumbling about not raising you right, all thoughts of Jeno are pushed out of your mind.

Dust starts to settle on the letter beneath your bed.

It’s no matter, though: though you believe it might very well be the last thing connecting you to the Jeno Lee, fate has other plans for you. Soon enough, the surface level image of who Jeno is will no longer exist to you, replaced by your own truer perceptions.

Of course, there’s a series of things that have to happen before that.

It all goes to shit on May 25th, 1957.

#fool's gold #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #thekpopnetwork #jeno #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 smut #nct 127 angst #prologue

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cakesunflower · 5 years ago

Text

Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 5

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Seriously, Ms. Kline—you two look so cute!”

Odessa let out a light laugh despite the heat pooling in her cheeks as one of her students, Marci, who was dressed as Padmé Amidala, grinned before pulling away from where she stood between Odessa and Calum after they posed with her for a picture. It was Halloween, and almost every student and teacher was dressed up, and during gym or lunch or the few minutes between classes, people were posing for pictures with one another—and many, mostly the girls, had approached Odessa and Calum so they could take a picture with the school’s Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. They were almost as popular as the four gym teachers who dressed up as KISS.

She and Calum had decided on recreating costumes from the scene of when Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth dance at Mr. Bingley’s ball, Odessa’s white dress and dark hair done in an updo remarkably resembling Kiera Knightley’s costume from the film. Odessa had felt a bit strange, walking into the school in a long white dress that was so soft against her skin, hair done up in braids and curls, but when she noted the costumes of her fellow teachers and students—seriously, the gym teachers had gone out with their outfits and makeup—Odessa had felt a bit more relieved.

Especially when she saw Calum.

Just like her, his costume starkly resembled Mr. Darcy’s suit from the very scene they were dressed up as. The dark coat with the white ruffled shirt underneath was a simple outfit, yet there was nothing simple about Calum. Although his blonde hair didn’t match Mr. Darcy’s traditionally dark locks—Calum had lamented about the lack of his natural hair color—he still looked classy and dangerously prince-like—and Odessa knew she wasn’t the only one who thought so. She was pretty sure she’d seen some of the young girls quite literally swoon at the sight of him, which was more amusing than disturbing.

Just a few hours after school had let out, Odessa arrived to Luke and Sierra’s place, noting the cars that were already in the driveway and parked along the sidewalk. As she unbuckled her seatbelt, Calum grinned from the driver’s seat. “Ready to head in, Ms. Bennet?”

Odessa scoffed, an amused smile upturning her lips. Calum had taken to calling her that throughout the school day, referring to himself as Mr. Darcy. Apparently he took Halloween pretty seriously, into it as much as the students were, and it was refreshing to be around his excitement. As the two of them approached the door, Odessa mused, “So what’s the prize for the costume contest?”

Yes, Luke and Sierra were holding a costume contest, which Odessa had found out a few days ago when Luke had reminded her to use that as motivation to get a good costume. When Odessa had asked him what the prize was, he had promptly told her it was a secret—but Odessa knew him well enough to know that was his way of stalling because at the time, he hadn’t thought of a prize yet.

“Pretty sure it’s one of those Visa gift cards,” Calum snorted before shrugging. “But it’s for a couple of hundred bucks and I wouldn’t say no to that,” he added with a boyish grin and quick raise of his eyebrows, and Odessa chuckled in agreement, her breath fogging in front of her in the cold night air.

The house, as expected, was filled with people dressed up obscurely, the spirit of Halloween alive as some remix of the Monster Mash played. Odessa was fairly certain it was the same one Principal Howell played that morning prior to the first bell ringing. People all around her were dressed as fictional characters, as their own versions of different occupations, video game characters, and she was pretty sure she’d caught a glimpse of two people dressed in the classic salt and pepper costume. Halloween related decorations were up as well, decals of spiders and bats on the wall, Jack-O-Lanterns placed around the house, and even a damn smoke machine in certain places that had people’s feet disappearing below the ankles.

They decided to find their friends first, all of them gathered in the back den around a beer pong table, and Odessa suppressed a laugh at the sudden sensation of feeling as though she was back in college. Not that she’d ever played much beer pong; it wasn’t her sort of thing.

Sierra was the first one to catch sight of them approaching, eyes lighting up with a wide grin as she gasped, her voice traveling over the hum of the music and everyone else as she exclaimed, “Oh, my God—your costumes look even better than I thought!”

Her words caught everyone’s attention before they all looked over to Odessa and Calum approaching them, earning enthusiastic greetings as Michael raised an eyebrow at them. “Who’re you two supposed to be?”

Odessa could ask him the same thing, but she vaguely remembered Calum telling her that he and Crystal were dressing up as some anime characters. “We’re Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice, you uncultured shit,” Calum responded with a scoff, bumping his fist with Ashton’s as he came to stand next to him. “Our students loved it,” he added, a proud grin on his face as his gaze met Odessa’s. She couldn’t fight back the smile that quirked her lips in response.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Paige said with a smile that, just by giving her one glance, Odessa knew was strained.

Paige’s eyes met Odessa’s then, and she instantly recognized the irritation that darkened her hazel eyes. Odessa bit the inside of her cheek, taking a breath and instinctively breaking her gaze with Paige’s, not wanting to actively be on the receiving end of her silent scowl. No doubt Calum essentially dressing up in a couple’s costume with anyone but her was grating at Paige’s nerves, and Odessa had a strong feeling if she wasn’t on Paige’s shit list before, she definitely earned a spot now. The glare Paige had practiced into a look of neutrality—one that Odessa was too familiar with—rested on her face, razor-like eyes settled on Odessa.

Adamant on keeping her gaze averted from Paige’s, Odessa looked at Luke and offered a smile. “Weren’t you a vampire when we were seniors?”

Luke scoffed, clearly unperturbed by his repeated costume. “Yeah—but now I’ve got someone to complete the look,” he reasoned with a dimpled grin, dropping his arm around Sierra’s shoulders. Odessa smiled at the sight, taking in her matching vampire costume and makeup, noting the clever detail of fake blood trailing down the corners of Luke’s lips to match the painted on red bite marks on the side of Sierra’s neck.

Ashton rolled his eyes, giving the couple a pointed look as he said, “If you two win the costume contest, then this shit is rigged.”

As Sierra told Ashton that wouldn’t happen, KayKay, who was appropriately dressed as Winona Ryder from Beetlejuice, looked over at Odessa and Calum, a smile on her face as she raised her eyebrows and asked, “So your students understood your costumes’ reference?”

Odessa huffed out a laugh. “I would’ve cried if they didn’t.” Though, it wouldn’t be too surprising, she figured. Not every, if any, high school student knew the beauty of Jane Austen.

Next to her Calum chuckled before, leaning closer, he asked, “I’m gonna grab a beer—you want anything?”

She wasn’t in the mood to do any heavy drinking tonight, so she opted for one as well. “I’ll have the same, thanks.”

He acknowledged her request with a boyish wink, one that foolishly warmed Odessa’s cheeks, before he turned to head towards the kitchen. Odessa tuned back into whatever conversations her friends were having upon his leave, only to have Crystal lean close and smile, “You two would honestly be so cute.”

She said it quietly, only loud enough for Odessa to hear, and although Crystal’s words had Odessa’s heart stopping for a moment, she also pressed her teeth together when oblivious to Crystal, Paige shot the blonde woman a glare behind her head. Clearly she heard what Crystal said, the idea of Calum with Odessa not one she was in support of as her jaw tightened before her sharp eyes met Odessa’s blue. Her stare was firm, intense, as if she was silently challenging Odessa to agree with Crystal’s statement.

Odessa’s stomach twisted. The subtle giddiness she’d felt over Crystal’s comment was overshadowed by the anxious guilt—guilt for what? She had no reason to feel guilty!—that stirred in the pit of Odessa’s stomach under Paige’s irritated glare. She didn’t even look hurt at the thought of overhearing someone else would ‘look cute’ with the guy she supposedly had a claim over—just downright annoyed.

In the back of Odessa’s mind, she wondered if Paige genuinely liked Calum, or just liked the idea of him.

“No, no, we’re just friends,” Odessa told Crystal, a light yet nervous laugh accompanying her words. She wasn’t sure if she was defending, protesting, denying so she could ease her heart rate or subsequently let Paige know she wasn’t trying to step on her toes. Or feelings. Whichever. Even if the thought of her and Calum made her heart flutter. “There’s nothing like that going on.”

Crystal shrugged, still unaware of Paige listening in, as mirth danced in her blue eyes. “Maybe there should be,” she hummed.

One look at Paige and Odessa knew she vehemently disagreed.

Before Odessa could swallow the small lump that had formed in her throat and reply to Crystal, Calum reappeared next to her, handing her a bottle of Stella Artois with a smile. He held his own out, waiting for her to clink her bottle with his as he greeted, “Miss Bennet.”

She looked at him, felt some of the tension ease from her muscles as he pulled out a smile from her so effortlessly. Calum was smiling, as always, dark eyes glimmering against the dimmed lighting of Luke’s house. With an amused shake of her head, Odessa asked not for the first time, “You take this seriously, don’t you?”

Calum grinned, bringing the bottle up to his lips as he offered a shrug. “Just a little.”

Conversations continued along with the music that was playing, and as Odessa watched Calum engage in a round of beer pong against KayKay, Luke leaned against the wall next to Odessa and asked, “So are you chaperoning that field trip Cal was telling me about? To Big Bear?”

“Oh, yeah,” Odessa answered with a hum as she remembered. It was a weekend trip for the juniors and seniors between Thanksgiving weekend and Christmas break, and Odessa had signed up to be a chaperone, and given that Big Bear was going to have snow around this time of year, she needed to do some winter packing. “I’m excited.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at her, although her gaze remained on the beer pong game going on in front of them. “Do you even know how to ski?”

Rolling her eyes, she told her friend, “I don’t have to ski to enjoy the resort, Luke.”

Paige shook her head, sipping her drink before asking, “If you don’t even know how to ski, why bother going?”

She sounded unimpressed, patronizing, and Odessa had a feeling she was the only one who picked up on it—and maybe Luke, who knew Paige almost as well as she did. Inhaling a silent, calming breath, Odessa kept her expression relaxed and offered a shrug. “I want to see snow.” God, there was no reason for her to even have to explain herself.

Paige rolled her eyes, hiding her sneer behind the rim of her cup as she took another sip, and Odessa clenched her jaw as she looked away from her. Her annoyance with Paige was mixing in with the ever present nerves that made themselves known when she was in her presence, and Odessa did her best to just focus on the beer pong game going on.

It was a close game, both KayKay and Calum good at the act of tossing ping pong balls into cups, letting out a chuckle as KayKay tossed the ball in the last cup standing and missing. Her groan was drowned out by everyone’s exclaims, and as Calum picked up the ball, ready to toss it into the single cup left for him as well, his brown eyes met Odessa’s blue. Then, with a boyish wink, he said, “This one’s for you, Miss Bennet.”

Odessa’s eyebrows shot up, unsure if she wanted to laugh or have the ground open up beneath her. He definitely wasn’t making things easier for her against Paige—not that he was under any obligation to.

He certainly wasn’t making it any easier to completely discard Paige’s glares and revel in the warmth he spread throughout her own cheeks.

Calum tossed the little white ball, and everyone let out a cheering exclaims as it landed in the cup with a muted plop! that had him smirking triumphantly. Odessa let out a laugh as Calum came to stand next to her, arm dropping around her shoulders as he smirked, “Think you’re my good luck charm, Essa.” He frowned at himself momentarily before shooting her a sheepish smile. “In a way that’s not objectifying at all, I mean.”

She snorted with a shake of her head, though Odessa definitely found it endearing that Calum would think she’d ever find anything he said as objectifying. Still, as amused as she was by him, she couldn’t entirely ignore the warmth in her cheeks at their sudden proximity—or his sentiment of her being his good luck charm. They stood closely together, his heat seeping into her skin through the thin material of the dress she wore, and Odessa hoped her makeup and the dim lighting of the den would mask the pink blush she could feel spreading through her face. The knowing smirk Crystal shot her way didn’t help.

“I don’t really have any winter clothes,” Odessa chuckled as she watched Sierra make herself a drink, leaning against the counter. “I think I need to buy at least one coat for the cold.”

It was some time after watching Calum and KayKay’s beer pong game, and Odessa had ended up in the kitchen with Sierra, the party continuing around them. There was a girl in an Elsa costume making out with a guy dressed up as a firefighter next to the fridge. Meanwhile, Odessa and Sierra were discussing the field trip Odessa was going on soon, and how her lack of winter clothes was going to make it a bit difficult for her to stay warm in the snowy mountains. Truth be told, Odessa hadn’t even been aware California had those, so she was wholly unprepared for the trip to Big Bear Mountain.

“Oh, you can borrow one of mine!” Sierra offered with a smile. With a laugh, she added, “I’m from the east coast, so I’ve got a couple of coats. I’m pretty sure we’re the same size.”

Odessa’s eyes lit up in hope. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sierra answered with a shrug. “It’s not like I need to wear ’em anyway. Plus you won’t be wasting money. No big deal.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Odessa held her nearly empty bottle of beer to her chest as she said, “You’re a life saver.”

Sierra grinned before taking a sip of her drink, tasting it. When she was satisfied with it, her dark eyes met Odessa’s blue, and she saw the mischief spark in them. “No problem—although I’m sure Calum would be more than happy to warm you up if you get too cold.”

Unfortunately, Odessa had been taking a sip of her drink too, and she wished the music and people chattering muted Sierra’s words because as soon as they registered in Odessa’s head, she coughed in surprise, eyes widening as she gaped at her amused friend. Heart drumming within her chest, Odessa gave a shake of her head as she sputtered stupidly, “What?”

Sierra shot her a look, one that was silently asking Odessa who she was trying to fool, and it only made her cheeks flame up. God. Was it everyone’s goal tonight to make her face permanently red? She folded into herself, lips pressing together as Sierra scoffed. “Come on, Odessa—you two are so obviously into each other in, like, the most wholesome way. I say instead of waiting for him to make the move, you do it. Cal’s way above the average clueless man but, y’know, he’s still a guy and they can be clueless.”

Odessa had no idea what to say or do except stare at her friend in mortified shock, and Odessa kind of hated that she felt embarrassed at all. Like she was in middle school and someone just exposed her crush on the popular boy or something. The worst part was. . . Odessa wasn’t sure if she was flustered because Sierra was right to conclude that Odessa liked Calum, or because Odessa knew that other people’s acknowledgment of it would make whatever the hell her situation with Paige was all the more complicated and stressful. Stepping on Paige’s toes was the last thing she wanted to do, and in wanting to avoid it, Odessa was somehow doing just that.

Her throat worked as she glanced away from Sierra, only for her gaze to land on their friends in the living room. She caught them all by the couch and instantly Odessa’s gaze locked in on Calum sitting on one end of the couch—and Paige sitting on the arm rest, as close to him as she could be without literally being on his lap. The sight tugged something painfully in Odessa’s chest and she frowned at herself; she had no right to feel jealous.

Was this how Paige felt when she watched Calum put his arm around Odessa, how she felt when she was subjected to Odessa’s closeness with Calum? When Odessa first moved into town, Paige had made it quite clear, in just a few words, that Calum was basically off limits—which was gross and territorial in Odessa’s opinion, but she truly had tried her best to respect Paige’s so-called claim—ew. But it wasn’t easy, not with Calum and her working together and their friendship developing within the school and out of it. Being friends with him was so effortless, and falling for him had happened somewhere in between. Odessa couldn’t ever hope to pinpoint when exactly her feelings for him grew—it had happened quickly, blindly.

Maybe she was in the wrong. For someone who hadn’t wanted to encroach on Paige’s feelings for Calum, Odessa was doing just that splendidly. She didn’t know whether what Paige felt for Calum was purely physical or something deeper, and it wasn’t any of Odessa’s business in the first place. Either way, she should’ve respected whatever feelings Paige had for Calum and kept her distance, for all of their sakes. She’d screwed up.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Calum glanced away from where he was listening to Ashton talk to the group, his gaze searching past the bodies moving in the space between where he sat and Odessa stood until his eyes met hers. Odessa froze where she stood, watching as a smile upturned Calum’s lips and he nodded at her boyishly, the mundane gesture prompting her to suck in a silent breath. But before she could return the smile, Odessa felt another pair of eyes on her, and her gaze flickered just a bit for her blue eyes to meet Paige’s sharp hazel ones; watching, challenging, narrowing. She’d clearly seen Calum’s little acknowledgment to Odessa and hadn’t liked it too much.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Odessa looked away from them, catching Sierra’s eye and offering a smile that felt too nervous. “No one’s gonna be making any moves, Sierra,” she told her, not unkindly. “It’d be too complicated.” Finishing off her drink, Odessa tossed her empty bottle in the bin told her friend hastily, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

“Oh, here,” Sierra stopped her, digging into the pocket of her leather pants and handing her a key. Odessa took it with a raised brow and Sierra laughed. “It’s the key to our bedroom—I’d rather you use our bathroom than face whatever mess in the others.”

Odessa let out a small chuckle, taking the key with an appreciative smile before exiting the kitchen hastily, letting out a breath as she reached the stairs and headed up. The distance she was putting between herself and her friends made it easier to breathe as she made her way around the dressed up party goers and found the master bedroom, using the key to unlock the door and step inside.

The room felt significantly cooler than the rest of the house, the lack of body heat making the air conditioner a lot more effective as Odessa walked to the ensuite bathroom Sierra so graciously provided her access to.

The sound of the flush momentarily muted the music blasting throughout the house, and as Odessa washed her hands, she let out a long sigh. She gazed at her reflection, took in the subtle glittering of her cheekbones and bright blue eyes framed by long eyelashes, and Odessa eyebrows knitted together in an involuntary frown. In the quiet of the bathroom, the party beyond the bedroom muffled, Odessa gave herself a moment to erase the image of Paige and Calum merely sitting by one another—God, how pathetic was she to be bothered by that?—and mull over Sierra’s words, as well as Crystal’s.

Odessa desperately wished her friends’ comments were just teasing, were derived from, to put it grandly, their shared delusion that there was something between Odessa and Calum. But she had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t, that if both of them were picking up on something, then it was because there was something to pick up on. Despite Odessa’s attempts of not acting on whatever she felt for Calum out of respect for a girl she barely considered a friend.

She didn’t even to consider the slim possibility of Calum returning her feelings. Odessa genuinely would not know what to do then; she wasn’t a selfish person—at least, she liked to think she wasn’t. But she had a feeling if she found out that Calum liked her back, she would become one, Paige be damned.

That’s how it should’ve been in the first place. Odessa clenched her jaw, shushing the voice in her head that normally sounded reasonable. Right now, it was just asking for trouble.

After drying her hands and smoothing down her dress, she exited the bathroom while bracing herself to head back downstairs, eyebrows raising when she heard a knock on the locked bedroom door. When Odessa opened it, she fought to keep her expression neutral when she saw Paige standing in the hallway. “Hey—I have to use the bathroom. Sierra said you’d let me in.”

“Oh.” Odessa blinked, nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

Paige stepped inside and Odessa glanced down at the key in her hand. Deciding she’d rather hand it off to Paige than wait for her, Odessa made to turn towards her, only to be cut off by Paige’s sharp voice. “Are you, like, into Calum?”

Odessa gaped at her, mouth drying at the sudden question. She shouldn’t be surprised at Paige’s bluntness at this point, yet she still found herself freezing in shock. “I’m not—”

“Come on, Odessa—don’t lie to me,” Paige cut her off with an empty scoff, shooting her a blank look. “It’s so obvious you’ve got a thing for him—you’re not doing a great job in hiding it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, even further accentuating the tight bodice of her Cruella de Vil costume. Odessa tried not to find irony in her costume. The smoky eyeshadow only seemed to intensify her sharp gaze and Odessa hated that she had to fight the urge to bristle. “So, seriously—what the hell is going on?”

“I—nothing,” Odessa told her, stressing her answer. It was true enough—nothing was going on, not between her and Calum. But her own thoughts and feelings were her own. Odessa didn’t owe Paige any insight on what she was feeling. She hated that she even felt guilty about something she couldn’t quite control, but it wasn’t like she had acted on it. She was doing everything she could to respect that—and it was hard when she saw Calum five days out of the week; sometimes more if they saw each other on the weekend. The line between feeling platonic fondness and actual attraction—more than in just the physical sense—had blurred and Odessa couldn’t hope to figure out when. “Calum and I are just friends, Paige. It’s not like that.”

Paige scoffed again, utterly unimpressed as she rolled her hazel eyes. “Either you think I’m an idiot, or you genuinely have no idea how obvious your feelings for him are.” Her tone turned mocking. “The whole work husband-wife thing, these costumes? It’s pathetic, Odessa.”

Air caught in Odessa’s throat, and she wasn’t sure if it tightened from anger or her suppressing the need to harshly scoff. She was calling Odessa pathetic? It was both ironic and hypocritical of Paige to deem Odessa as such, not when she practically latched onto Calum whenever they were in the same room. Paige wouldn’t be mouthing off so much if she knew whatever she was trying to accuse Odessa of was actually all Calum’s doing.

And, God, Odessa absolutely loathed that she was shitting on another woman over a guy—hated that she was thinking lowly of Paige at all, despite the other having no problem in making Odessa feel like that. She never did—not back in college, nor now. But Odessa had never stooped to Paige’s level; she always kept her bitter and annoyed thoughts to herself, and even then, scolded herself for ever thinking them. She wanted to be better than how people like Paige treated her. And, sure, no one would know what Odessa was thinking but herself, but it still made her feel guilty.

Her aggravated thoughts and the music playing throughout the house did little to drown out Paige’s words from Odessa’s head, and she bit the inside of her lower lip at the heat flooded her face once more. No. She couldn’t let Paige get to her. At the very least, she couldn’t let Paige show that she did. She wouldn’t let her have that kind of power over her.

Odessa took in a breath through her nose, willing herself to calm down, at least for a moment. She didn’t like hurling insults and vicious words to someone else. Pushing past the guilt, anger, and embarrassment, she calmly repeated, “Calum and I are just friends, Paige.” With a lift of her chin, she added, “If you can’t accept that, then it’s not my problem. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Paige’s lips parted, clearly caught off guard by Odessa’s words, a short huff of a breath escaping her. But instead of giving her the chance to respond, Odessa placed the key on the dresser next to her before turning and stepping out of the room. “Make sure you lock the door behind you,” she added before shutting it behind her and reintegrating herself into the thriving party.

It was once the door was clicked shut behind her that Odessa let out a deep sigh. Some of the tension she inherently felt whenever she was around Paige left her body—not just because a door now separated them, but because the words Odessa had uttered seemed to have edged off some of her body’s rigidness permanently. Not all, but it was a start.

Odessa frowned to herself as she made her way down the hall, moving around the few people lingering. She had no doubt that Paige’s words were coated in jealousy, she’d heard it in her voice, but that didn’t mean they didn’t startle Odessa. Especially adding onto Sierra and Crystal’s—albeit kinder—assumptions. When it came to letting her feelings, specifically in the romantic sense, be known, Odessa wasn’t an expert. She didn’t often get into relationships, mostly because she wasn’t the best in expressing who she wanted. Her last serious relationship had been in college, and although since then she’d taken her fair share part in hook up culture, true romance hadn’t really knocked on her door.

Not that it had now, either. But even she couldn’t ignore her constantly growing feelings for Calum. And despite her efforts in trying to hide them, she hadn’t been entirely successful. Her childish embarrassment stemmed from her friends figuring out her feelings without her meaning to, and it led Odessa into wondering if Calum picked up on it, too. That’s what was embarrassing; not her feelings.

Odessa shook her head as she went down the stairs. When was she going to stop letting Paige get into her head?

More importantly—when was she going to move past the habit of keeping herself from indulging in her feelings?

She reached the bottom of the stairs and her gaze went right to where she’d last seen her friends by one of the couches. Calum was grinning, drinking a White Claw, the smile on his face bright as he animatedly laughed at something deaf to Odessa’s ears. The sight of him made her chest tighten, her heart yearn. Odessa was completely oblivious to when and how she’d fallen for Calum so quickly, so fucking hard, and that sense of losing control was kind of terrifying. He made her smile so easily, made her feel at ease despite her roaring thoughts. Acknowledging the extent of her feelings for him should be exciting, right?

She failed to swallow the lump in her throat. It seemed as though allowing herself to indulge in her feelings wouldn’t start tonight.

*****

“You didn’t have to get up so early, Grams. I have Lettie to keep me company,” Odessa laughed lightly, scratching the top of the feline’s head as Grams poured herself some tea.

“True, but this one doesn’t talk back much,” Grams responded, sitting down at the small table across from Odessa. It was early on Friday morning, and with it being a county holiday, it made for the perfect day to get a head start on the three day weekend trip to Big Bear Mountain. She would have to get to the high school soon to receive her bus roster and make sure all the students who were supposed to be in attendance were present. Grams’ eyes met Odessa’s. “There’s been something bothering you, baby, and I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about it before you left.”

Odessa paused in absently stirring her bowl of Cheerios, frowning at her grandmother. “I don’t—I’m fine, Grams,” she said with a breezy laugh, hoping it sounded convincing.

Her grandmother was perceptive, gazing at her unconvincingly. It was still early in the morning, the sun just slowly rising, and Odessa could see orange and red painting the sky as some sunlight streamed in through the window above the kitchen sink. “Something’s been on your mind, Odessa,” Grams pushed gently, the concerned look reappearing in her blue-grey eyes. “I don’t want you going away on this trip with something weighing you down. Maybe I can help.”

Chewing her cereal, Odessa’s grip on the spoon tightened as she considered her grandmother’s words. She was right, of course; something was weighing her down, had been since Luke and Sierra’s Halloween party where she’d had her little confrontation with Paige. And where Odessa and Calum had won the couples part of the costume contest. Man, that had only pissed Paige off more, and Odessa kind of really hated she let the girl affect her so much.

She really was pathetic, wasn’t she?

“It’s just. . . Drama,” Odessa sighed, throat feeling dry despite the cold milk she was drinking. “Boy drama and girl drama and me being an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Grams instantly chastised, a disapproving frown on her softly weathered face. “What drama?”

Odessa twisted her lips to the side, frowning down at her nearly empty bowl. She’d been keeping all of this inside for so long—maybe talking to her grandmother would lessen whatever burden she felt on her shoulders. And heart. Maybe she’d see the light of herself being so fucking dramatic.

“I like Calum.” It was a fact. A firm and true as the earth being round and the sky being blue. And yet, uttering out loud in the otherwise quiet of the kitchen, of confessing it to even just her grandmother—it felt like the fist that was wrapped around Odessa’s heart had loosened substantially. She thought of Calum, and she not only pictured his warm eyes and kind smile, but his love for Toni Morrison and talent for writing beautiful songs as well as his loud passion for teaching and coaching. She saw the enthusiasm he taught with, the leadership he coached with, and the kindness he never left home without. He was gorgeous inside and out and Odessa liked him with every fiber of her being.

As frightening as it was to admit that, it was just as freeing.

“But so does Paige. I mean, I think she does—”

“What do you mean, think?” Grams asked with a frown. Before that, though, Odessa hadn’t missed her smile when she uttered her own confession.

Letting out a sigh, Odessa briefly explained the way Paige presented her attraction to Calum—how it seemed more physical and territorial than consisting of true feelings. Of course, Odessa also acknowledged that all of that was conjecture, because she didn’t truly know how Paige felt. She merely stated what she saw when she watched and listened to Paige talk about Calum. Odessa wouldn’t hold her own feelings above Paige’s, no matter how much she didn’t like her. The only thing Odessa could be sure of was her own feelings.

“And I don’t—” Odessa let out a tired sigh. “I don’t want to have issues with another girl over a guy. It’s so juvenile and just not what I stand for, you know? But I like him a lot, Grams. Him being my coworker is complicated enough—but other than that, how could I even act on my feelings knowing that Paige is interested too?”

Not to mention the fact that she and Calum had slept together already before. That was a fact Odessa tried to keep out of her mind as much as she could. Because if she were to dwell on it, the realization of Calum wanting to be with Paige over her would suffocate her unforgivingly. But, God, what if she was already setting herself up for an inevitable heartbreak?

This is why she didn’t do feelings.

“You’re making this far more complicated than it is, sweetheart.” Odessa’s eyes widened, gaping at Grams in disbelief. She was what? Grams’s expression sobered up, eyebrows lowering as she adopted a serious expression. “You’re not the other woman in this situation. As far as I can tell, there is no relationship between Calum and Paige that you’re disrupting. If you want to be with Calum, let him know, see how he feels. The worst he can do is tell you he wants to be friends, and you can stop focusing your attention on someone who doesn’t deserve it.” Grams scoffed, then. “Call me biased, but that boy would be crazy to not be interested in you, baby.”

Odessa could feel her heart in her throat, despite logically knowing it was impossible. But some of Grams’s words had struck a chord—you’re not the other woman. Memories of her parents’ marriage falling apart flooded Odessa’s mind, remembering the unforgettable moments of her father’s secret family coming to light, watching as her parents’ already crumbling marriage turn into dust. Was that what Odessa was doing? Painting herself to be some kind of intruder infiltrating on Calum and Paige’s relationship—one that was very possibly just construed by Odessa’s own imagination and Paige’s fleeting comments—the way she always viewed her now-step-mother as in her parents’ marriage?

The shaking guilt she felt suddenly made sense, and Odessa gasped before she could help it. Oh, yeah. Adolescent trauma loved screwing with one’s head, didn’t it?

Her conversation with Grams was all that replayed in Odessa’s head as she drove to the school, not even bothering with the radio. Odessa chewed on her lower lip as she drove, frowning at herself for her behavior for the past week. She’d kept her interactions with Calum as minimal as she could; brief conversations in the teacher’s lounge, only passing hello’s in the hall, not waiting for him to come by her room after school when he didn’t have to coach soccer practice so they could walk to the parking lot together. If Calum picked up on her distancing actions, he didn’t make a comment on them, yet Odessa hadn’t missed the occasional frowns that drew together his eyebrows when she’d cut their conversations short by making up some excuse or another to get away.

She was being childish. Unreasonable. Scared. Paige’s comments from the party had stung more than Odessa would care to admit, and she let it influence the way she was around Calum. Maybe, she had hoped, it would dull some of what she felt for him. It only seemed to do the opposite.

What now, though? They were two of the six teacher chaperones for this trip. She couldn’t quite avoid him for the entire weekend. Did she even want to? Perhaps. Despite being vocal about her feelings—even if it was just to Grams—Odessa still needed to figure out whether or not she wanted to act on them, feeling the need to reconsider her course of action. In a confusing and twisted sense, being around Calum would only make the deciding process all the more muddled.

Odessa sighed. She was being crazy. But it made sense to her and, at the end of the day, she was learning that that’s what mattered.

Between seven-thirty and eight-thirty, the time passed quickly as students and teachers arrived to the school, all carrying duffels and small carry-ons containing their weekend belongings. Odessa stood by Diana Vogel, a biology teacher and one of the other chaperones, as the two chatted about the trip and having to sit on a two hour bus ride with dozens of students. Hopefully the early morning would allow for many of them to get some more sleep.

Slowly, as the parking lot filled with more students arriving, it grew bustling, the air filled with a low hum of chatter as everyone waited for attendance and to board the waiting charter buses. Odessa passed her time by chatting with Diana, with some students, and at one point her gaze wandered over to a familiar black SUV pulling into its designated parking spot, and Odessa was only absently listening to Diana talk about her excitement to see snow as she watched Calum step out of the vehicle. He looked comfortable in black track pants and a red hoodie, a small suitcase in hand as he greeted some of the soccer players who immediately went over to him.

Their eyes met from where they stood, a distance between them that could easily be closed, but Odessa remained put. Her moment alone with her thoughts on the drive to school hadn’t really helped her reach a decision of what she wanted to do. Distance was good. Distance would help.

Even if the frown on Calum’s face she caught before breaking their gaze had her chest tightening.

Soon enough, once everyone had seemed to arrive, Mrs. Greggs—who was also the freshman advisor and who was ultimately in charge—distributed lists to all of the other chaperones which consisted of which bus was theirs, which students were to be on it, and who their chaperone partner was.

Odessa glanced down at the list and bit back a curse. Calum’s name stared back at her and at this point, Odessa wasn’t quite sure if the universe was on her side or against it.

She glanced up, as if feeling Calum’s gaze on her, their eyes locking for a moment. He offered a small smile and Odessa hated that he hesitated in showing her it, a reminder how her self imposed distancing from Calum was effecting him too, and she mustered up a smile back. It was always so easy to smile at Calum. Why was she making things so difficult for them? For herself?

“Alright—load ’em up!” Mrs. Greggs announced after anyone who needed to quickly go to the bathroom returned, gesturing towards the buses.

As she neared the bus she was to go on, Odessa saw Calum standing by the compartments where everyone was going to toss in their carry-ons and duffel bags, and he looked at Odessa as she neared them. “I’ll help them with the bags, you go on the bus?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow to see if that was okay with her.

Odessa nodded, pressing her lips together and offering a smile at the same time. “Sounds good,” she said, pulling her carry-on forward.

Calum reached out. “I got it,” he said, and Odessa’s heart thumped as he took it from her before carefully placing it in the compartment.

She thanked him quietly, unsure if he even heard as he helped one of the girls with hers, and Odessa boarded the bus with a smile towards the bus driver. She and Calum were to sit in the front, so she claimed the two front right seats, back against the window and list in hand as she watched students board the bus. They were all talkative as they did so, some making sure to greet her, and Odessa smiled in return as she took in some of the faces that were familiar and others that were not. She only taught freshman and sophomores, and since this trip was for juniors and seniors, the only students she knew were ones she’d occasionally see in the hallway, the soccer players, or the students she’d see at the games.

She watched as students settled next to their friends on the seats, chattering away in a quiet excitement about the trip. Though, she had been right—Odessa definitely picked up on several students looking forward to sleeping on the drive there.

Calum was the last one to get on the bus, and once he stood by Odessa, he called for all the students’ attention, effectively silencing them, and Odessa then proceeded to call out attendance to make sure everyone who needed to be on the bus was present. Odessa focused on the task at hand rather than Calum standing right next to her, until it was done, and Mrs. Greggs came by to check if everything was ready.

About five minutes later, they had left the school, which meant for Odessa and Calum to be seated together for the next two hours and fifteen minutes. She kept her gaze out the window, watching as they passed by buildings and cars and people, trying her hardest not to focus on the tension between her and Calum she knew she was at fault for. Why was it difficult for her to continue to just act normal, be friends, instead of making things awkward by instilling some distance between them? How was that going to help?

She knew she was being kind of ridiculous. And yet, she didn’t stop herself.

Odessa couldn’t block out both of her ears to listen to keep herself occupied, given that she had to chaperone the students, so she merely put an earbud in her left ear, the closest to Calum, and began watching an episode of Dead to Me. She’s all too aware of Calum next to her, who’s pulled out a book to read. Odessa wished she could read something—the only transportation she could read a book on was a plane. Reading while in a car, bus, or train left her feeling lightheaded. Which, as a woman who enjoyed reading more than anything else, was quite frustrating.

A little over an hour into the drive, Odessa was still watching her show and Calum was still reading his book, and despite herself, she wondered why he hadn’t tried to make conversation yet. The bus was relatively quiet; most of the students opted to catch up on some sleep, and those who were awake conversed in hushed tones. All Odessa could really hear, apart from the hum of the bus engine, was the audio from the show she was watching and the occasional scratch of a page turning when Calum was finished with it. His focus was only on what he read, never glancing at her once. And wasn’t that what she wanted? For there to be space?

Odessa’s grip on her phone tightened. All she could do was watch her show and try not to think of Calum’s familiar cologne wafting over to her, or focus on the way his thigh occasionally brushed against hers where they sat. Grams’s words from earlier echoed through Odessa’s mind, overpowering the audio of the show. If you want to be with Calum, let him know.

She glanced at him. His gaze was lowered to the book he was reading, features settled into a soft neutrality, eyelashes brushing his cheekbones every time he blinked. Blonde curls fell across his forehead and her fingers itched to brush them away. Odessa quickly looked backed to her phone just as his head ever so slightly turned towards her, cheeks on fire when she knew he’d caught her staring, could feel his gaze on her. Her throat worked, purposefully freezing her gaze on the screen.

Fuck. What was she doing?

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @astroashtonio @loveroflrh @meetashthere @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @malumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @wildflowergrae @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace @socorroann @talkfastromance4 @calumftduke @musichoney @treatallwithkindness @partlysunnycal @dead-and-golden @kaeleykaeley @harrys-sun-flower @br-hoe

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shalebridge-cradle · 4 years ago

Text

When You Smile and it Tears Your Face (It’s Time for the Inhuman Race)

Warnings: Blood. Implied Violence.

“Anna?”

Anna von Kleve, former minor noble of the Holy Roman Empire, pries open her eyes. It’s well into the night – the heavy curtains are drawn, as usual, the grandfather clock is ticking away, and the electric light flickers ominously above her.

She herself is sprawled on the sofa, with her date’s head in her lap. Ah, yes. A night on the town, a few drinks (well, more than a few on her part)… she hopes he’d had a good time.

“In the drawing room,” she calls, lazily.

“Have you seen my book?”

Anna has seen lots of her housemate’s beloved books. So very many volumes she’s collected over the years – in her day, the emperor himself would be hard-pressed to afford such a selection. Still, she’s proud it was a German who invented the printing press and started the whole thing off.

“Which one?”

“Pride and Prejudice, volume three. It’s got a red-brown cover.”

von Kleve frowns, looks around herself, lifts up her date to check under him.

She grimaces.

If the book didn’t have a red cover to begin with, it certainly did now. She never intends for the whole biting-people-and-drinking-their-blood business to be messy, but it always ends up that way. Strange how that happens.

She quickly drops the man’s unconscious body back on top of the book, just as her housemate materialises in the doorway.

Catherine Parr sighs. “Seriously? What have I told you about putting down plastic when you bring your food home?”

“I know, but we get kind of… into it, you know? You know me, I live in the moment – well, not live, but… you get what I’m saying.”

“That’s the problem, hence, the need for plastic.”

A pause.

Anna knows what she’s about to say, and preempts her. “No, not your type. Not terrible, but he couldn’t talk about anything that wasn’t his football team.”

“Oh. A pity.” Another pause. “Have you seen my book, though?”

“No books here. Did you leave it at Seymour’s?”

Parr hums. “Possibly. I’ll visit later. It’s your job to get rid of the poor soul, though.”

“Yes, yes, personal responsibility and all that.”

Before Anna leaves, she tucks the first edition under the sofa cushions, and hopes her housemate doesn’t look that hard for her precious book.

~~~

The shovel plunges deep into the black, wet soil, and out again. In, out, in, out, methodical and practiced. The hole needs to be deep enough, and wide enough. She’s underestimated the size before, and that simply causes problems. There are bits that need to stay underground.

Once she is satisfied, and with great care, Jane Seymour places the rose bush into its new home.

Gardening might be considered an odd hobby for someone like her to have. Even if she rarely gets to see the fruits of her labour (which is most certainly a metaphor for something), it keeps her busy and helps her feel productive. It’s terribly easy to fall into a rut if you don’t have something to do, and caring for plants gives her plenty of that.

Just so long as they survive everything.

There is a loud bang from inside the house. Jane turns briefly, listening for something further, before she goes back to patting down the soil.

Another bang, followed by a crash.

Jane squeezes her eyes shut, and growls under her breath. That had better not be anything important.

Really, she should go in and stop them from doing any more damage, but they’d probably just ignore her like they usually do. Maybe you shouldn’t have your thrice-bedamned battle in the house, where there are things that you both like and are easily breakable all over the place. Is that such an unreasonable concept?

A third bang.

“For heaven’s sake,” she grumbles, and makes to get up, turning to her gardening tools. Initially, she shies away from some of them out of instinct, but… then again… this may the only way they’ll listen…

The fearsome duel is still going on when Jane reaches the hall.

One combatant has a name she knows well, mostly because she insists on using the whole thing whenever she is introduced. Catalina Trastámara de Aragón, former Spanish infanta. The other has gone by many different but similar names – Anna de Boullan, Anna Bolina, Nan Bullen, but she generally responds to ‘Anne’, so that’s what they go with.

Catalina has her hand around Anne’s neck, hoisting her up in the air, whilst Anne has a hold on Catalina’s arm, hissing up a storm. Another bang – Catalina slamming Anne against the wall – sends a cloud of dust trickling down on top of them.

Jane enters, in her gardening smock, boots too big for her, a straw hat (you must always wear a hat while gardening, though Jane isn’t sure why), and with a wooden gardening stake in each hand.

“Down! Both of you!”

Anne turns her head slightly, and her eyes widen when she sees what Jane’s holding. “Shit.”

This gets Catalina’s attention, too, but she manages to keep the quiet part quiet. She releases her grip, and Anne sinks to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Catalina recovers her regal demeanour, or at least part of it. “Have you gone quite mad?”

“Have you? Look at what you’re doing! What on earth is noble and queenly about repeatedly smacking your housemate into a wall?!” Jane stops to compose herself. “What is it this time? Territorial dispute? Long-standing grudge you refuse to talk about? Monopoly?”

“Anne? How many glasses would you say are in the sink?”

...No.

Anne rubs her neck. “Well, maybe less if you weren’t such a toff and drank like the rest of us.”

That can’t be right. Was that it?

“Unlike you, I like to keep some of my dignity about me.”

“Oh, don’t you fucking talk to me about dignity -”

Jane is between them in a blink. “Anne, do the bloody dishes.” Anne groans, probably at the unintended pun, but is interrupted. “We have the chore wheel for a reason. We have standards.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I know. Dishes now, fight later.”

Anne huffs, and stomps into the kitchen. Jane’s attention turns to Catalina, who is trying very hard to suppress the smug smile on her face.

“How many languages to you know, Catalina?” She already knows the answer to this question, but Catalina will happily tell her anyway.

“Five. Spanish, Latin, French, Greek, English.”

“Five languages, and you still don’t know how to use your words?”

Catalina simply stares at her.

“You would have been very upset if you knocked any of your paintings down, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but we couldn’t take it outside. You would have been upset if we crushed your plants.”

“Well, that simply reinforces my point. Violence is very rarely the answer when it comes to who you live with.”

“You’re threatening me with a lethal weapon right now.”

Oh, right, she forgot about them. Jane looks down at the stakes, flinches again, and throws them unceremoniously to one side. “Fine. We all need to work on discussing things, and remember we all have our part to play. Anne’s doing the dishes now -” There’s a clatter from the kitchen – “I’ve been taking out the rubbish; can you tell me your royal responsibility, or do I have to check?”

Catalina’s eyes are everywhere but on Jane. She brushes a bit of powder off of her sleeve, and mumbles “Dusting.”

~~~

“Look what I found.”

Parr looks up. It is a whole entire person Anna has come to show off, which usually isn’t something Catherine needs to see – it does not pay to get attached. This girl has her long hair tied up, dyed an almost neon pink at the ends, and is clad in one of Anna’s oversized fur coats. She seems to be faltering under Parr’s gaze, trying to make herself look as small and insignificant as possible.

“I see no plastic in the drawing room,” Catherine says to von Kleve, as a warning.

“What? No! No, no, no. Not that. Big smile, Katie.”

The girl’s lips curl into a rictus grin, revealing a set of fangs not unlike Parr’s own.

“Oh!” Immediately, Catherine’s attitude shifts, and speaks with a soft, comforting voice (she hopes), “Okay, hello. I’m Catherine Parr, of the Westmorland Parrs, and this is Anna von Jülich-Kleve-Berg of the Holy Roman Empire. Neither of us are going to hurt you. Please, take a seat.”

She gestures to a nearby chair. The girl walks over to it, unsteady on her feet, and sits down.

“It’s been a bad week,” she mumbles.

“Tell us about it.”

“Well, it started with a night I couldn’t remember, which always freaks me out, and then I was really sick, and then I’m pretty sure I died – no, I did die… I died…” She goes quiet once more, aghast at the revelation.

“Found her ripping some dude’s throat out behind a nightclub,” Anna explains, then shrugs. “It happens.”

The girl shuts her eyes tightly, as if she is trying to block out the memory. Parr takes her hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Katie, is it?”

“Or Kate. Or Kat, or Katherine – but, that’s you as well. I’m rambling.”

“That’s alright. The transition can be stressful. May I call you Kat?”

Kat nods.

“Good. Now, from what you’ve told us, it sounds like nobody explained to you how this works. What is it that you think is going on?”

“’M a vampire. Right?” Parr hums an affirmation, and Kat laughs, without humour. “And, because I’m a vampire, and I was going insane with how thirsty I was and because he wouldn’t stop talking and he kept touching me after I told him not to…” She looks to Anna. “That man. He was my boyfriend. I killed my boyfriend.”

It’s usually cold in the house, but it seems to get even colder after that statement.

While Catherine intimately knows the feeling of wanting to murder your former significant others (Thomas – Foul rake! Blackguard! She shall curse his name after death and beyond!), she is aware that this may not be the case for Kat. Most couples these days actually quite like each other – one need not rely on a husband to vote for them anymore, after all. She’s been looking out for someone like that, but she hasn’t found them yet. Maybe someday.

There have been so very many days…

Thankfully, Anna is there with a kind word, so she need not answer nor dwell on her failure to find love. It is just one word, however, and it is not spoken with great compassion.

“Condolences?”

Kat waves a hand, shakes her head. “The only good thing about dating Francis is – was – that he gave me a place to stay. Everything else… I don’t think anyone will be that upset he’s dead, put it that way.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It was so easy. Too easy.”

Well, it’s good to know that nothing of value was lost, at least.

“Subtlety and control are the results of practice,” Catherine tells the girl, “and that will come, in time. Until then, since the one who turned you is not around to help, I humbly request that you allow us to assist you.”

“We have a spare room. Um. Not that you have to take it, or anything, but the option’s there -”

Kat cuts Anna off. Nobody’s had the gall to do that for centuries.

“Why are you doing this? Any of this?! You want something from me, don’t you? Otherwise, I’d still be out there, dealing with my boyfriend’s corpse! Be honest with me, please. What is it you want me to do?!”

She is looking into both of their eyes, searching for an ulterior motive like she knows it’s there – Parr gets that, unfortunately, and she’s disgusted that something has happened to the poor girl to prompt such suspicion and mistrust.

Catherine does not raise her voice, speaks calmly and carefully, just like she was taught. “We are not doing this in the hopes of a favour, or any material gain. We – or, at least, I – am behaving in this way because I want to see you turn out well. Perhaps there is a vain hope of a new friendship out of this, but that is the loftiest of my wishes, and you should not feel obligated to fulfil it if you don’t want to.”

“You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in at least a decade,” says Anna.

“But you’re vampires. Why are you helping a competitor?”

“Why not? Just because we’re bloodsucking monsters doesn’t mean we can’t be nice about it. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Okay. Okay. In that case… might I ‘humbly request’… a hug, please?”

~~~

“How do you feel about it?”

Catalina does not turn away from her painting; yet another Spanish vista. She has been told that the Inquisition is over, that she can return for a holiday, but there is no doubt in her mind that what is there now must be wildly different from what she remembers. The latter is what she puts to canvas, to show off what she knows, what mortal eyes can no longer see.

“You shall have to be more specific,” she says to Anne, her voice clipped.

“You know.” She refuses to give Anne the satisfaction of looking at her, but she can feel the fluttering eyelashes, the lazy grin, just from her cadence. “Us. What we have.”

“What on earth are you implying?”

“That thing we do. The one where I press all your buttons, and you beat the shit out of me. Great way to work out that tension, yeah? But then there’s Jane – Plain Insane Jane – putting stakes in our faces and telling us to end it.”

“Would you have listened to her if she hadn’t?”

“Nah.” No hesitation whatsoever. No hint of shame. “But it’s fun. Don’t you think so?”

…Frankly, Catalina does not know. She knows it is not a healthy way of relieving stress. She knows Jane is justified in her motivations to stop it, if not her methods (though both of them make it difficult for her to use a softer touch).

But, if she is truly honest with herself, she likes to feel powerful sometimes. Yes, she is powerful when compared to a regular human – but that was true when she was alive, too. Now, she is no longer in the line of succession, she is no longer a princess. She is ‘just’ a vampire, and that fact irks her more than it should.

But she doesn’t tell Anne any of that. She puts her brush down, and turns to the source of her self-reflection. She’s hanging in the air, as if she were watching Catalina from an invisible sofa.

“You’ve been out drinking, haven’t you?”

Their kind can, in fact, get drunk. It’s more of a roundabout process than it is for mortals – one must find someone that’s absolutely cup-shotten, take them somewhere quiet, and… share their blood alcohol content. Catalina knows this because Anne is a master of the process.

“Of course I have!” Anne replies, with a funny sort of smile. “That’s why you go out, why Jane goes out. To have a drink!”

Oh, she definitely has been. She’s wearing the silly spectacles again, the ones where you can’t see her eyes properly.

“I’m not having this conversation with you while you’re out of your wits,” Catalina carefully enunciates.

“I always have my wits. Do you even listen to my jokes, princess?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And? You don’t talk when I’m sober, you won’t talk when I’m toxed – what is it that you need me to be for you to be honest?”

There is a knock at the door, and Jane’s voice comes through loud and clear. “Catalina? We have a guest.”

That’s interesting. They don’t often have guests – well, not ones that aren’t ‘invited for dinner’, and Jane likes to keep that private, if it’s her. It can’t be Parr or von Kleve; Jane would have said as much.

Perhaps it is someone important, she thinks, and immediately her mood sours.

“Who do you think it is?” Anne asks.

“I don’t know. All I ask is that you don’t make a complete fool of yourself.”

“And what if I do?”

“Then I take no responsibility for your actions.”

“She’s very new, apparently,” Jane tells them, and she is doing only a slightly better job than Anne at holding in her excitement. “She doesn’t remember who turned her. Cathy thinks it’s Thomas, but you know how she is.”

Yes, Catalina does. Thomas may be responsible for a lot of things, but if he showed his face in this part of town, he’d probably find himself dismembered by his very angry ex-wife.

They reach the top of the staircase. Below them, on the ground level, Cathy is speaking quietly to – good Lord! That woman’s hair is pink! How is it that vibrant a shade?!

Anne gasps in delight. “A baby! You’ve found a little baby, Cathy!”

“I’m not a baby. I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly. Two-digit age. Baby.”

“I apologise for her conduct,” Catalina sighs. “Someone had a bit too much to drink, and she had too much of them. I am Catalina Trastámara de Aragón.”

“And I’m Anne. Sometimes.”

The girl blinks. Probably thrown off by that introduction. “Oh-kay. Uh, well, I’m Kat Howard. Katherine, actually, but you see how that will cause problems. I’m moving in with Cathy and Anna, and Anna thought it might be good to introduce myself.”

There is an image of vampires being solitary creatures, living in ruined castles and moping about in their every waking hour. It’s not untrue, but Catalina hated it when she had a go. Eternity? With no-one around her? What torture!

No. Ever since she found Jane sobbing in front of her own grave, since Anne had her chance encounter with a Spanish princess, she’s resolved never to be alone again. She shall, of course, extend that invitation to this new girl.

It’s practically her duty.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Kat.”

~~~

Vampires own nightclubs.

That makes sense, right? They only operate at night, they attract a crowd, many people there aren’t expecting to remember what happened there, only that they had a good time and feel terrible in the morning, if they make it that far.

Well, Anna doesn’t own a nightclub. She owns a chain of 24-hour off-licences. But, she can hypnotise the bouncer into letting them in, so that’s alright.

The music thrums in place of Kat’s heart as she watches the mass of bodies swaying and jumping with absolutely no sense of rhythm. Coloured lights flash, the DJ plies his trade, glasses clink and sweat permeates the air.

Anna is watching only her.

“See anyone?”

Kat scans the crowds, a grim expression on her face. “No-one looks particularly appetising.”

“Well, of course they don’t. We’re not looking for the cream of the crop here, we’re looking for someone who deserves it.”

Kat leans her head on her hand. Anna told her she could come to her for anything – so, Kat had, when she started to feel hungry again, and so Anna planned this little night out.

“There are two choices,” she’d said. “Either you pick someone out yourself, or you go mad with hunger and some other poor sod ends up like your boyfriend.”

“You’re sure of that?” Kat questioned.

“Oh, yeah. I speak from experience – I’ve always regretted what happened to the Duke of Lorraine…”

Anna had refused to say anything more about that.

Kat has… mixed feelings about what happened with Dereham. Okay, she’s horrified that she murdered him, but she doesn’t feel bad that she wiped that arrogant look from his eyes for a few seconds (before he, you know, died). He didn’t care that she was sick, didn’t answer her texts when she told him her reflection had vanished, or that she was bleeding from her eyes – and as soon as he got back from his work trip, he dragged her to a nightclub to ‘show her off’ and pretended nothing was wrong…!

…Okay, she’s getting a bit heated. The man’s funeral was three days ago. No point in holding a grudge, now.

“What about that one?”

Kat follows Anna’s gaze. A man is swaggering over to the bar with a confidence that nothing about him implies he’s earned. She gets the feeling this man used to be handsome, or liked, and no-one has told him otherwise just yet.

“Dunno. Maybe.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Kat automatically bites her lip, before remembering that’s probably a bad idea now. She doesn’t want to be alone, exactly, but at the same time…

“Is it alright if you hang out slightly further away?” She asks. “If I need your help, I’ll laugh really loudly.”

Anna smiles in acknowledgement, nods, and wanders off. Kat might be wrong, but she seems almost gleeful.

Thankfully (or not), the once-handsome man notices her staring, and saunters over. Kat’s skin crawls.

“Hey.”

Kat gives a small, brief smile in return.

“You here alone?”

She risks a quick glance over to Anna – she still has an eye on her. Kat isn’t alone. “Yeah. Just… needed to get out, you know?”

“I do.” He smirks, points to himself. “Henry. You know Tudor Real Estate?” She does, and the man grins at the recognition she must be showing. “I’m the co-owner.”

Kat doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but this guy has only a passing resemblance to the man on the ‘for sale’ signs.

“Must be an important job,” she tries.

“Very. My brother relies on me for a lot.” Oh, okay, he’s the brother. Wait, the brother she’d read articles about? The one who got acquitted last year? “Sometimes I just need to blow off some steam, you know? Have some fun. Speaking of, can I buy you a drink or two?”

Wow. That look in his eyes. He clearly hasn’t changed as much as the judge thought he had.

“I don’t drink… alcohol.”

He scoffs. “Listen. You heard how important I am, right? Nothing will happen to you without my say-so. We can have fun if you just let me help you.”

This man is made of red flags, isn’t he? A blind woman could see the warning signs. He’s a creep with overly-inflated self-esteem, seems to have spent his whole life getting everything he’s ever wanted…

And that means he’s perfect.

“I guess you’re right,” she says, quietly. She doesn’t have to fear his kind any more. “I am here for a good time. If you’re offering…”

Henry grins. “Anything you want, babe! Name it, and it’s yours!”

“Anything?” Money and connections won’t protect you from me.

“Anything at all, princess.”

“Hmm…” Kat makes a show of looking him up and down. Yes, this is the one. “Maybe we can take this somewhere private?”

Henry is clearly thrilled at the prospect. He grabs her hand, roughly (though Kat is sure she could break his arm if the need arose), and leans in close.

“I know just the place.”

He leads her away, to a location where there are no witnesses, no-one to save him. From across the club, Anna gives her a thumbs up.

Kat returns the gesture.

She comes in the front door with her phone in her hand. Henry has a Wikipedia page. Not very long, pretty much goes on about his brief stint in custody and that he’s Arthur Tudor’s brother.

Or, was. They might have to change the tense, soon.

Cath is on the sofa, chatting quietly with… Kat wants to say… Jane…? Yeah, Jane sounds right. She’s friendly enough, but always seems like she’s on her second-last nerve.

“How did it go?” Cath asks.

Anna grins. She’s been like this all night, and Kat feels conflicted about all the praise she’s received.“Oh, fantastic! Kat was a natural; that idiot fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Turns out I have a vendetta against people who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Kat adds.

Parr’s smile grows sharp, but her eyes still sparkle. “Well, there won’t be any shortage of those. Come, sit with us.”

So, Kat does. The things they speak of are so normal, Kat is initially confused. Jane’s gardening is a topic of discussion, as is Cath’s ever-expanding collection of stuff she finds interesting. When Jane asks about Kat’s “little slate-thing”, they both listen with rapt attention at her explanation of modern technology.

Kat had forgotten what it’s like to have people listen. It’s a shame she had to die to experience it.

~~~

“Yes, I’ve received a notice recently about outstanding bills owed – no, no, don’t shut off the – listen to me. The account has been paid in full. Enter that into the system. Okay, great. Thanks for that – no, no, everyone makes mistakes. Alright, bye.”

Anne hangs up. Great, power bills are sorted.

Contrary to popular opinion, she actually does do her share of work around the house. Yeah, the dishes are her least favourite task. Vampires shouldn’t have to do the dishes. But, that doesn’t stop her from helping in other ways.

She’s just about to start dialling the telephone company, when there is a knock at the door. Few are brave enough to do that at this place. As she stalks over, she wonders if it might a debt collector – if it is, that means she can have a snack, too.

The heavy oaken door swings open with an agonising creak, and the eyes of the figure on the other side glow in the evening gloom.

Oh, it’s that pink-haired girl. Katie, maybe? Anne can’t actually remember her name, and at this point she’s too afraid to ask.

“Hi.” The girl waves slightly. “Can I come in?”

Do you really want to? Anne thinks, but she says, “Uh, sure.”

With a sigh of relief, Kiara steps over the threshold.

“Apparently I called you a baby last time you were here,” Anne says. “Sorry about that. That’s not fair to you, and you don’t scare the shit out of me like an actual vampire infant would. But, I’m guessing you’re not here for an apology.”

Kitty smiles awkwardly. “Uh, no. I’m here to try and fix your computer. Um, the little television-box-thing you never use?”

“Oh! That! Yeah, I never knew how to get that thing working.”

“Yeah, no promises,” Kelly says, “but Jane thought it might help you… connect.”

That really gets Anne’s attention. She’s not surprised it was Jane who told her, because of the way Kim described the computer, but that part about connecting.

Anne wants honesty, for once. If Kat (that sounds right) is offering, she will take it.

To Anne’s surprise (and shame), Kat is able to get la machine infernale up and running in just a few minutes. She explains the mouse, the monitor, and the programs built into the operating system. The computer is not to get wet, nor is it to be fed. Do not sacrifice anything to it in an attempt to make it work properly.

Why Kat felt the need to include that instruction is a mystery, but it was probably necessary.

“Now, I had this whole speech with my step-grandma – back when I talked with my family – and I’ll give the same to you. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. A lot of it’s lies, or personal opinion. On that note, not everyone you talk to is who they say they are. Don’t do things like send money or give out personal details if someone asks, and don’t meet with someone without people around.”

“Okay, I’m absolutely going to do that last one – but for the rest of them? Sure!”

Kat genuinely smiles. Wow, when was the last time Anne did that, and didn’t eat the person afterwards? Must have been ages, because it feels like she’s come across an oasis after months in a desert.

“So,” she goes on, “what exactly is the internet? I know I pay the bill for it -” ‘pay’ is a strong word - “but I don’t actually know what it entails.”

“Okay, well, you know… books?”

“Yes.”

“You know the television?”

“Yeeesss.”

“You know those coffee shops where people yelled at each other about philosophy, in the eighteenth century?”

“Yep, yep, yep.” Even though she was never invited, the sexist pricks.

“The internet is all of those things together,” Kat explains, “but worse.”

Anne gasps. “I love it already.”

The room is dark. No lights, curtains shut. The only source of light is the faint white glow of the monitor.

The internet is, as Kat had warned, a shitshow. Anne thinks it’s just the best thing. University professors and the lowest common denominator share the same spaces, and send vile, scathing messages to one another over fictional characters. Maybe she should do some research, just so she can play along. It’d be just like her days at court, getting one person at another’s throat, playing them off each other… ah, she misses that, if nothing else. It’s just not the same, now.

Oh, but then there are the videos. Little mortal Anne would never have thought it possible. What an idea! What awful and wonderful things humans create when they’re not being killed!

Anne’s exploration is interrupted when the light from the hallway fills the room.

“Ah. So you haven’t left.”

Catalina? Come to check on her? Anne turns – yes, it is her, likely wondering why her evening hasn’t been ruined yet. Or, maybe not. Anne has a terrible habit of putting words in other people’s mouths.

“You haven’t been downstairs this evening,” Her housemate continues. “Jane was worried about you.”

Anne doubts that’s true. Not that Jane doesn’t worry, she worries about almost everything (who cares if her teeth show when she smiles?), but she would be thrilled to know Anne is being quiet.

“Just looking at things,” Anne mumbles.

“Hm. Ominous. What ‘things’?”

Well, the best way to explain would be to show, right?

Anne plays the video. Normal night sky, a deep navy. Then, violet, then orange, and the fiery sun rises over the horizon, accented by the crimson heavens.

There’s a thump from behind her. Catalina has flattened herself against the opposite wall, eyes wide, fangs bared.

“I will not die so easily, Boleyn!” she snarls. “I’ve survived assassination attempts before, and I’ll do it again!”

“I’m not trying to kill you, girl! It’s a video! Do you almost die every time you put the sun in one of your paintings? Because that would be a much bigger problem than me showing you this.”

She presses the button to make the video play once more, and makes a show of standing in front of the screen, conspicuously not combusting.

Catalina stares at her. Then, at the monitor. She approaches, slowly.

“Can you make it go again?”

Anne does. The sun is reflected in Catalina’s eyes for the first time in over five hundred years.

“…I miss it, sometimes.”

Oh God, it’s happening, Anne thinks. Out loud, she says, “Miss what?”

“The sunrise.” From the sound of her voice, calm and quiet, Anne gets the impression Catalina’s not really here. “My home. My family. It doesn’t matter how far away I am, in years or in miles. They’re gone, and the name Trastámara means nothing.”

Oh, that’s it. Of course it is.

Anne did not what it was like to be a princess in the early 1400s, partially because she wasn’t born yet. She knows from her own experiences with Whatever the Fuck the Sun King Was Playing At that the nobility was constantly having to be perfect at all times; not even a twitch of emotion could play upon your face, even as you drain all your resources to support the near-impossible standards of fashion, or it could easily be all for naught.

She’s just been thinking, maybe, something like that might be why Catalina has the sort of aversion to talking about her emotions that would normally be reserved for holy symbols.

“Catalina. You’re not a princess anymore.”

Catalina sneers, all traces of vulnerability gone. “Yes, you have taunted me about that many times before.”

“Not a taunt.” Sometimes. “A reminder you no longer have to try and be perfect. I’m not gonna tell any peers of the realm if you feel sad sometimes.”

“So you feel the need to drive me to madness in the hopes I accept your view?”

Okay, so maybe Anne’s been a little coarse. In fairness, she tried passive-aggressive behaviour and it didn’t work. There’s a reason she goes after Catalina, and it’s not just because it’s easy.

Anne points to herself. “Unstoppable force.” To Catalina. “Immovable object. You move, I stop.”

“…Right. Okay.” A pause. “I know, logically, that you are right – about that particular thing. But, it makes me feel like I’m ignoring part of myself.”

“Just have the good without the bad. If the King of Spain has anything to say about it, kill him and rule the country as their immortal god-queen.”

“I would never be so rash,” Catalina huffs. “I’ll try. Just… don’t mock me for it. If I’m keeping at least one good thing about my life, it will be threatening anyone who insults me with imprisonment.”

“Yessssss…”

Both Anne and Catalina jump at the voice from outside the room. Anne acts first – she opens the door a crack, and sees Jane’s eye on the other side.

“You’ve been at it for two hundred years,” Jane says. “Two. Hundred. Years. I don’t care if you don’t get along straight away, let me have this.”

And, fearing her ire, they do.

~~~

Anna’s on the roof again.

There are two main reasons for this. One, her room is in the attic and it’s the easiest way out of the house. Two, it’s a good place to sit, look up at the stars (at least the ones you can still see, anyway) and think about things.

Kat is on her right, arms around her knees, looking up at the moon. Anna does not think she’s paying much attention to it, however.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Kat doesn’t answer straight away. “Just how things are better.”

“…They are?”

“I’m living… uh, residing in a house with people I actually like. This is the first time that’s happened since I was about eight, I think.”

Wow. Anna hadn’t had a terribly good time when she was alive – no rights, no fun allowed, go marry some dude you’ve never even met, and no you can’t have fun then either – but Kat’s life might beat out Cathy’s hopeless search for love, in terms of tragedy.

“I cannot truly speak for you, but I have found this…” Anna waves her hands, trying to find the right way to put it, “whole thing to be very affirming. There is no-one to hold you down. No-one to stop you from doing what you like. Well, except priests, but they can be ignored, mostly.”

“You don’t brood about it too much?”

“Why would I? It’s the only reason I’ve been able to see the things I’ve seen. To be here, now, talking to you.” All because she told the wrong (or right) person about how bored she was. Of course she would accept the offer to have fun, even if the whole process wasn’t. “Do you?”

Kat stops to think again, so that’s a ‘yes’. “I’m still getting used to it. But, I don’t mind it. I’m not scared of the things I used to be afraid of. That’s good, right?”

“Sounds good to me. But, if you falter, that’s okay, too. We have supported Cathy, who was the youngest before you, we can do the same here – so long as you support us in turn.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s got that thing about finding the one.” How does Kat manage to fit so much bitterness in only two words? “Don’t get it. She’s got people who love her already. You, and those three around the corner. She doesn’t need them.”

“That’s a very good way of putting it, actually.” Anna’s argument against serious dating has been that three of the people Parr’s courted have tried to murder her, and her ex-husband technically succeeded. It hasn’t worked, but maybe a more positive viewpoint might win out against two centuries of stubbornness.

“Anna von Kleve.”

von Kleve looks down. Ah, speak of the devil. She’s on the balcony below them.

“Cathy! Kat has had some good thoughts about love!”

“Oh? How wonderful.”

She doesn’t seem like she thinks it is, though. She almost looks angry, with the hard eyes and pursed lips and the red-brown mottled book in her hand -

Oh no.

“I think, Anna,” Cathy intones, her voice sharper than any stake, “that we should talk about personal responsibility first.”

#the cradle will write #six the musical #not the historical figures #but that won't stop me making references to them

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snow-whiteandred-rose · 5 years ago

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He proposes to you - Hyung line

A/N: Hey everybody, this took me a little bit longer. I´m sorry, but I finally did it. So lean back and enjoy my writing. Vanessa :) word count: 4,4 k

Namjoon

You sighed and leaned back in your chair. Your back hurt because you already sat to long at your desk but the work didn’t do by itself and you had to finish the interpretation until tomorrow. At the moment you were dealing with ‘Pride and Prejudice’ in college and you have to write an interpretation about this novel. The relationship of the main characters Jane and Mr. Darcy had to be analyzed by looking at the living conditions of that time. The deadline was the day after tomorrow and there was still quite a bit missing. You really loved that novel and you had read it so many times, not to mention watching the movie, so it was an easy task for you to write this interpretation. You could say that your hearts blood is flowing into it. You remember how you went insane when you read the book for the first time, because you could not understand their pride. You wanted to shake both characters to finally talk honestly with each other. A look on your phone showed you that you have three missed calls from your boyfriend and quickly texted him back to say that you were sorry. He answered that he will come around and bring along something for dinner. You sighed again but this time it was because you thought about whether you two will ever get married. Namjoon and you were together for four years and he never talked with you about this, so you didn’t know his intentions. On this subject, you didn't want to make the first move, and you didn't really want to be the one to propose. Not that you find it abnormal for a woman to propose, but you were just too proud. You smiled when you noticed that you weren’t better then the two Protagonists. Maybe you should also overcome your pride when it was what you wanted and you know your boyfriend. Maybe he wanted to marry you two but just kept putting it off because he had so many other thoughts in his head. A few seconds later you heard the door open and Namjoon entered the apartment. “Y/N, I’m home,” he called and you walked out of your room to greet him. “Joonie, I’m happy you are home now.” He hugged you and stroke with his fingers above your back. You linger a short time before you were interrupted by the growl of you stomach. He laughed. “I’m sorry I was so busy with my essay that I haven't been able to get anything to eat.” “Seems like I’m coming home to the right time... at least I'm punctual for once.” Namjoon said and separated from you to entered the kitchen and brought some plates. You closed your eyes when you took the first spoons of your food. It was always a good feeling when you were hungry and you could finally eat something you liked. “How was the studio today? Did you guys made any progress?” You asked him. “Yeah it was good until Jimin and Taehyung started to fight about Dumplings,” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “What? Why they fought about it?” “They fought about eating them before or after practice. Could you believe it? I sent both out after a while to clarify this. They came back after a while but ignored each other. I have never seen them like this, I hope they are okay. I mean... dumplings really? I will see how it will be the next days before I will talk to them. It is better when they handle it on their own.” He explained and didn’t seem amused. “It’s gonna be alright, you will see. Don’t worry. They are friends and it is normal to fight. By the way... you always do a great job as a leader.” You cheered him up. “Thanks Jagi, but enough about me. How was your day?” “I am still writing my interpretation, but it will be finished soon. It's really fascinating how you empathize with the characters when you are in the matter. Sometimes both characters just drive me crazy and I just want to yell at them because it could have been much easier,” you started to get upset. “I can understand you, both characters should have spoken to each other properly and put their pride aside much sooner. But luckily, it had a happy ending and everything worked out fine. Imagine if we had lived at that time. Your parents would have married you to me right then and there to keep you safe.” His words made you tensed up because it was the first time that he spoke to you about this subject even if was only via detours. Besides, you did not want to realize that this was the main reason why you "should" have married him if you had lived at this time. “Luckily we live now and that isn’t longer necessarily reason to get married. There are so many other reasons like love and be together with his soulmate, caring for the other one, trust and loality,” you answered and blushed a little bit because you had the feeling that you spoke out of your soul. “I agree with you and by the way these are all descriptions that apply to us, so what do you mean? Should we get married?” He simply said and your mouth remains opened. “Did you mean that?” “Of course, why not? I have wanted to marry you since we started dating. You are everything I have ever wanted. To only reason why I have never asked you is my schedule. I don’t want my wife to be alone all the time and I know it isn’t easy...” He said and you could see the sadness in his eyes. You stood up from your chair and sat on his lap. “What is going to be easy in life? We love each other and that is everything that counts,” you leaned your head against his chest and smiled. “Than let’s get married! I hope you've really thought this through. After all, I'm not the best man in my own right, and I can't lose our wedding rings.”

Seokjin

It was one of the last concerts of the tour, so your boyfriend was finally back in Seoul. The last three months you two were apart. Logically it was a world tour and he traveled to an uncountable number of countries over the world. Because of your job it wasn’t possible for you to join him. You were really upset about that. You didn’t like it when you were apart from each other for so long, it was really hard. But even the distance couldn’t harm you. Jin and you always wrote each other or made video calls. He also sent you a picture everyday he visited a new city. Even when he was upset that you couldn’t visit him, he understood it and didn’t give you rejection. Your job was important as well. And then finally after all the waiting it was the day when he was back in town and they had the last final concerts in Seoul. You couldn’t think straight the whole day because you couldn’t wait to see him again. You were a nervous mess when you arrived at the Stadium and showed the security your pass and they gave you a smile when you entered. You walked a few steps until you heard Jins loud laugh. It wasn’t to overhear and that sound you would recognized under thousands of other noises. You felt like your chest was going to burst so hard your heart was beating. The first one you saw was Jungkook who was about to drop everything to hug you. “Noona! I’m so happy that you are here. We missed you.” You smiled while hugged him back. “Hey Kookie, I’m also happy that you are back. It was a little bit boring without you guys.” “Next time you really have to join us! It’s gonna be more fun with you and also Jin hyungs whining that he misses you became annoying the last few days. So I’m glad that this is over now.” The youngest rolled his eyes and you tried to hide your smile. “What am I hearing? I have never complained!” There he was, your beloved boyfriend you also missed so much. “Princess! You are here!” Jin called and pulled you tight. You throw yourself in his arms and rest your head against his chest. It was so good to feel his arms around you. “Oh, no? And who was it who always made a face mask the last evenings, because his handsome face is so stressed by crying?” Jimin threw in and put his armes around you two to cuddle and you chuckled about his words. “I can’t remember, it wasn’t me... and enough now! I don't want you bugging her after the first few minutes.” Jin defended himself and tried to push Jimin away from you so he could be alone with you. “You can do it with out us by the way,” Jimin laughed but pulled Jungkook away with him to give you two some alone time, even if it was just for a few minutes. When you were alone he put your face between his hands and leaned his head forward to connect your lips. You put your arms around your back and pulled him closer to you. It was the first kiss after three months and it felt like your first kiss ever. Far to early he separated from you and with his thumb he stroke above your cheek. You bit your lower lip and missed his lips already. “Did you miss my handsome face Princess?” Jin asked you caused you to roll your eyes. “Yes of course but much more I just missed all this, you around me. I have even miss your bad dad jokes.” “Oh by the way...” he was about to tell a joke. “That doesn’t mean that you have to tell a joke now... save it for later.” “You'll be laughing so hard you won't be able to sleep tonight.” “We will see but I think you have to get ready now.” You said and reminded him were you were. “You are right. Then I'm gonna make sure that my face gets even more handsome if that's even possible.” He laughed and drags you with him in the dressing room. As you entered you were greeted immediately by all the others who hadn’t yet seen you and it gave you a warm feeling of security. It was nice to realize that they missed you too and it felt like home. For the next hour you sat there and watched them all get ready together and put on the first stage outfit and suddenly it was time for them to perform. You could hear all the Armys scream and calling their names. You hugged each of them before they entered the trapdoor and wish them good luck. Jin gave you a wink before they drove up and the crowd cheered. You loved watching them perform and how they blossomed when they were cheered on. For the next two and a half hours you could feel like a fan too. The only difference to the others was that you were backstage and Jin's girlfriend. One or two times there were tears in your eyes, because you were so carried away by everything and because it was so good to see them together on stage. And then it was almost over and everyone started to say goodbye. Their words did not make your emotional state any better and your boyfriends words as well: "I would also like to thank someone very special this evening... my wonderful girlfriend. I'm sorry I haven't been able to be with you for the last 3 months. I thank you for always being there for me and supporting me. Princess, can you come up on stage, please?" What? You're freezing. You didn't see that coming. You saw Jin looking in your direction, but you just shook your head. Whatever it was, you were sure he could tell you later. "Y/N now, come on." Jimin and Taehyung jumped in your direction. "Come on, trust him. You don't have to be afraid," Tae whispered to you before they took your hand and pulled you onto the stage until you stood in front of Jin. "Y/N I know it's not always easy being my girlfriend. I'm so glad you're here. You're my home and everything is easier with you around. You give me strength even in the darkest hours and I know that I always want to be with you. So I'm going to ask you an important question now," he pointed into the stadium where suddenly Armybombs started to light up until a very simple question was read. "Will you marry me?" You were speechless, it was a far too beautiful and incomprehensible a moment. "Yes, yes, I will Jinnie!" you say, throwing yourself into his arms. Everyone around you started to cheer and the members congratulated you one by one. The fact that Mikrokosmos was played as the last song didn't make it better. Your make-up, which had already ran off anyway, was now even more ruined, but never mind. Jin gave you a handkerchief so you could at least remove a part of it. At the end you float in a balloon over the audience and said goodbye to everyone. Jin hold you tight and you smiled and couldn't be happier.

Yoongi

You couldn’t hide it, you were worried about him. It was obvious that he was sick and he still beat the nights around his ears in the studio to work on his mixtape. You knew that there was a deadline he wanted to meet but exposing his body to even more stress than he already had was just not good for him. You already had a fight about this yesterday morning and your concerns only made him blame you for not understanding because you never were in a situation like this and you never will be because you weren’t an Idol. His words really hurt you because all you wanted was that he took care of his body and health. But it’s no use. In the evening (or better say night) he came home exhausted as everyday and fell into bed coughing and sniffling. You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t resist to look at him. His face was white and he had beads of sweat on his forehead. It was obvious that he had a fever. Even when you were still a little angry about his words you wanted to take care of him. So you got a cold cloth and sat down beside him. You started to carefully dabbing his face. He shrugged because of the coldness but relaxed when he noticed that it was just you. “Jagi...I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, like that” he mumbled but it was quite hard to understand him and you noticed how tiring it was for him to talk. “Shhh, It’s okay, I’m here. I will take care of you,” you answered and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes again and leaned into your touch. You freshened up that rag and observe how his breathing became deep and calmer. You were just getting up to get yourself ready for bed when you heard his quite murmured words. “Mm... mmmaarryy meee.” But before you could say anything he turned around a bit and you could just hear his soft snores. He couldn’t really be serious... Yes you two were a couple for already 3 years but you never thought Yoongi even wanted to get married. For sure it was the fever and he didn’t meant it. But you must admit that the imagination of you and him in front of the altar made you happy and now when he “started” to bringing the topic you hope that it became real. Even the next morning you tried to act normal and didn’t let it on. Yoongi was still in the bedroom and you already were awake and started to made some medicine for him. If you couldn't stop him from going to the studio, then at least you wanted to take the best possible care of him and try to make it more bearable. So at first you made some Onion juice and Sage tea against the cough and sore throat. For lunch you made him some chicken soup, as your mom always says: is helps every time. You were still tinkering when he entered the kitchen. “Morning Jagi, what is all this?” You smiled at him and answered:”I made you something against the cold. I want that you felt better, so I searched the internet for some good home made medicine.” You could see how his eyes light up with your words, he was touched. He lifted the can with the onions and pulled a disgusted face: ”What’s this?” “That’s onion juice, helps against your cough. Stop looking like that! It really helps!” You laughed and hits him playfully. “I hope so! I better not turn into a frog after this!” You rolled your eyes and concentrated on your work again. Yoongi stood behind you and put his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on your head. “I’m really sorry for yesterday, I was just frustrated... I know that isn’t an excuse. I hope you forgive me,” he said sadly. You turned around in his embrace and fold your arms behind his neck. “I know, that you didn’t meant it. I didn't wanted to put so much pressure on you, I was just worried. But it is your decision.” He stroke with his thumb over your cheek. “I seem to remember very faintly that I have said it before in the night, but I repeat it again... Marry me.” You tensed up and looked shocked in his eyes. “What?” “Marry me, please,” He repeated his last words. “Do you really mean it? I didn't know you even wanted to get married,” you said thoughtful. He sighed and took your hands in his and looked shyly on the ground. “Yes, I never really thought about it before, but during the last days I noticed once again how happy I can be to have you. You take care of me even though I'm an idiot and don't deserve it. But I love it so much, I love you so much and I want to take care of you as well. Please be my wife.” You were shocked, it was rarely that Yoongi revealed his feelings that way and it caused that a few tears appeared in your eyes. “Oh Yoongs, at first, Yes you are an idiot sometimes, but you are my idiot and second you don’t have to marry me to take care of me, but Yes! I’d love to be your wife.” Your words made him smile and rolled his eyes at the same time. “Really? I try to say something romantic and then you make fun of it.” He pulled you back in his arms and he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry when I destroyed your proposal. I loved your words. They were really cute.” “I love you, Jagi.” And then finally he tilted his head down to kiss you softly.

Hoseok

“And why did I have to do these mysteries to find you? Why can’t we just met at the address you gave to me?” You signed and dropped the note with the start coordinates. “Because so it is more fun! Don’t worry you will see, when you find me.” He put his hands on your shoulders. “But why we can’t make the tasks together?” Now it was his time to sighed. “Because it doesn’t work with my surprise but you have Y/F/N, she will help you. I really think it’s gonna be fun,” Hobi answered and quickly looked on his watch, “Oh, I it’s getting late, I have to go. See you later love, I can’t wait.” He gave you a soft kiss before he left the apartment and let you back alone. It was your seventh anniversary and it was tradition that always Hobi planned that day for the two of you. So the last times it was sometimes extravagant like a sightseeing trip in another city or just a comfortable evening when you both have dinner together. This year it was obviously the first one. Today your energetic boyfriend was more excited and jittery than normal. It was a little bit scary because you never thought that this was possible. Even when you were just happy to do something comfortable with him like a movie evening and cuddle on the sofa, you played along to make him happy because you didn’t want to ruin his efforts. You loved the way he was focused on the things he loved to do and you knew the efforts would be worthwhile. A quarter of a hour later your best friend knocked on your door and it was your sign that it was time to go. So you took the note and the compass he gave you and opened the door. “I’m so exited!” Your best friend yelled and hugged you. “Of course you are. Nothing I wouldn't have expected. I’m so happy that we can do it together. You know the destination?” You wiggled your eyebrow. “Yes I know it, but that doesn’t mean that I will tell you. We have to do the tasks,” she she admonished you. “It was worth a try. So I hope you can tell me how I have to use the GPS tracker.” You both spend a look at the instructions and it wasn’t difficult as expected. After a few minutes you got the hang on it and you were on your way to your first destination. Surprisingly it was your old school Hobi and you had visited together. There was a lot of activity in the schoolyard, so it won't be noticed that you two are entering the school building. The tracker leaded you to your old classroom which was now empty. You smiled when you looked around and the memories came back. Sometimes it felt like it was yesterday that he picked you up after class to ask you out on a date. You went towards your desk and sat down. According to the tracker this must be the first destination. “Do you see something?” Your best friend asked but you shook your head. “Maybe you have to look in the desk.” No sooner said than done and you lift up the tabletop. A letter came to light and you smiled when you recognized his hand writing. Congratulations! The first stage has been completed. I don't know if I ever told you how excited I was back then. But it was the best decision of my life to summon up the courage to asked you out. Do you remember our first date? Go to that place and you will find the next instructions. You ran your fingers over his writing and smiled. “It’s so cute. You both really deserve each other. I’m so happy that you have him,”Y/F stood right beside and had also read his letter. “Me as well. So come on, let us go to the place of our first date... The ice cream parlour.” And so it went on from station to station. All the places you visited where places where you both had experience something together. It was a time travel through your shared history like your first kiss, when he told you that he loved you and so on. The one place you couldn't do anything with was the last. It was the address of a remote park and the last hint also wasn’t very meaningful. “You think we're really in the right place? I've never been here before. Maybe we entered something wrong,” You asked your friend concerned. “Trust me, it’s the right address. I have to leave now. The last path you have to go on your own.” “What? Why?” “You will see and don’t forget: it’s your anniversary,” she winked and hugged you to goodbye. You shrugged your shoulders and went along the path. Around you there were green meadows and many beds with colorful flowers. At the end was a white arch which was overgrown with green tendrils. Under him stood Hobi and waited of you. You smiled when you saw him and ran towards him. “Thank you for everything, it was so touching to recall all these memories.” “I’m glad you like it, sunshine. But it still isn’t the end of our journey. I have one last thing I want to say” he answered and you noticed that he was really nervous. “Hobi it’s just me. You can tell my everything.” You took his face in your hands and he took a deep breath before he started to talk. “Sunshine, I love you. You a the reason for my positivity because you always support me no matter what. All these memories you saw today wouldn't have been anywhere near as beautiful without you. We have experienced everything important in our lives together. So I thought that we also should go this part together,” Hobi took your hands and and looked at you,“Sunshine will you marry me?” You hold your breath before you fell in his arms. “Of course, Hobi. I will.” It was the moment when you two started to cry in each arms. After a few seconds he separated from you and reach in his jacket to bringing out a rectangular box. It was a gold ring with a green diamond. “I hope you like it, the stone reminds me of your eyes. That’s why I choose it.” “it's so beautiful, thank you so much.” “And now that we've cleared that up, we can finally enjoy the evening together,” he smiled and kissed you again.

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts hyung line #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hobi x reader #jin x reader #bts suga #bts jhope #btsjin #bts namjoon

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commanders-company · 4 years ago

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Dust and Echoes

A cub learns a lot of things in the fahrar.

From the moment they’re able to hold a sword above their head, they’re taught how to best swing a blade, to hit a target from a hundred paces, how to take a hit and keep fighting. For all charr, life is war, and cubs need to be prepared without exception.

But the most important lessons Bato learned happened when the instructors weren’t around. When the older boys lived out age-old prejudices. When everyone in the Black Citadel learned what her father had done.

“Traitor.” The term would ring in her mind for years as it became the first explanation for why she ever failed to perform. The apple never falls far from the tree, after all. If Bato were ever to stumble, clearly that was the reason.

It took a lot of broken noses for that to stop.

But for all the abuse from both instructors and fellow cubs, Bato never regretted her time in the fahrar. Her teachers taught her to be a soldier; the other cubs taught her to survive. Every lesson made her stronger, her skills sharper, and shaped her into what she was meant to be.

And yet no amount of instruction can prepare a soldier for the consequences of war.

*~*

She sat on a stump in the shade, running a whetstone along the edge of her dagger. The walls of Ascalon, once a proud and strong statement of human prosperity, now only served to give shade to visitors to the graveyard. Countless rows shot down the length of the ruined wall and beyond, memorializing the blood, sweat and tears that formed the foundation of the charr nation as it now stood.

Before her, just beyond the glint of the steel in her hand, sat four graves, bunched together as tradition demanded warbands be buried. The smell of freshly moved dirt still lingered in the air, and the headstones lacked the sun-stained color of the others around them.

Bato grimaced as the whetstone made a satisfying scrape against her balde. Four new graves. Four more ghosts in Ascalon.

She didn’t need to look up to know who made the cough from behind her. Reeva made her way over slowly, fumbling with a spent bullet casing in her hand for a moment before finally breaking the silence.

“So,” she sighed, “no more warband, huh?”

Bato didn’t reply, focusing instead on her work. Shink, shink.

“Still doesn’t feel real, you know? I got separated from the rest during the fight; wanted to teach those ghosts they couldn’t outrun my shots. Didn’t even realize they were missing until I woke up the next morning.”

Shink, shink.

“At least they don’t have to deal with being galdium. I know, it’s not the end of the world, but I’ve heard all sorts of stories about how hard it can be to connect with an established warband. Like coming to a drinking party late when everyone else is already a half a dozen rounds in. Maybe it does work out later, but getting there - ugh.”

Shink, shink.

“Plus, there’s, you know, always the possibility we just never get picked up. Guess there’s always mercenary work or the Lionguard, but I know for a fact you’d hate that.” She chuckled awkwardly. “Ash and Iron blood runs too deep in us. We’d go crazy out there without the Imperators telling us what to do.”

Shink, shink.

Reeva stamped her foot. “Damn it, Bato, say something - ”

“You’re worrying,” said Bato, eyes never leaving her dagger.

“Yeah, I am!” Reeva stood in front of her, grabbing her arm to pull it away from her gaze. “I’m worried about you! Our entire warband was slaughtered by those damn ghosts and you don’t seem to care.”

Bato wrenched her arm out of Reeva’s grip. “My heart aches for them just as much as yours. But they’re gone. We can only move forward.”

Reeva growled as she finally sat. “Don’t see where we have to move forward to. Joining a new warband doesn’t feel right, but we can’t just be gladium forever.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah? How do you figure?”

Bato looked at her friend, allowing her face to soften at last. “Because we’re not gladium.”

Reeva stared. “Come again?”

“Our friends are gone. We will mourn them and miss them. But right now, there’s still you - ” she bought up her knife, pointing it at Reeva, and then back at herself, “and me. By my math, that makes us a warband.”

Silence fell on the graveyard as Bato returned to her whetstone. Reeva looked to the graves for a moment, then chuckled. “So you want to rebuild instead of start over. Sounds easier and harder at the same time.”

The sound of the whetstone stopped. “It won’t be the same.” Bato said, her voice nearly a whisper. “But it doesn’t have to be.”

“Yeah,” Reeva nodded, before a smile overtook her face. “And we’ll move forward for them, instead of in spite of them.” She shuffled closer to her friend, putting a claw on Bato’s shoulder. “We’ll need a new name.”

“You’re the wordsmith, not me.”

“I resent that, but I’ve got an idea.” She raised her hand in front of them, as though unveiling a masterpiece. “The Ghost warband - named in honor of their fallen friends and in defiance of the armies of Ascalon! Following their fierce and loyal leader, Bato Ghostknife - ”

It was Bato’s turn to grin. “Ghostknife? Really?”

“Hey, it’s just an idea,” Reeva shrugged, “I’m not super big on surnames myself. I thought about changing my name to ‘Reeva the Cleava’ once, but once I started saying it out loud the novelty wore off really quick…”

She continued as the two stood up and began the walk back to the Black Citadel. As they walked, Bato took one last look back at the four graves, slowly shrinking into the growing shadows of the evening.

Four new graves. Four more ghosts of Ascalon.

And four more reasons to keep fighting.

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #bato #charr #tyriaslibrary #moment to moment #my writing

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omgitscharlie · 4 years ago

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11,8,6

These are good choices duuuude: @chimiguy

6. Share one of your weaknesses. I feel like I struggle with angst and like fight scenes? I struggle with sad things because I use this as an outlet for good feels, yknow? So, to see my characters angry or mean or having a toxic relationship, it doesn’t make me feel gooooood. As for fight scenes, I just am not well-versed in battle motions or what is realistic and what isn’t, which mean I have to do research, which makes me want to claw my eyes out ahaha

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. I have two, okay? The first one is contradictory to what I stated above, as it’s for an angst scene. Though, I suppose that’s why I’m proud of it. I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and succeeded. This is a large excerpt from Chapter 10 of ‘Hit the Like Button’.

“You wanna know how my own dad kept me and my mom in the shadows because his wife wanted to kill me? How I was kept like a fuckin’ skeleton in a closet?! How me and my mother jumped from hotel room to hotel room until she could finally get a job on her own? You wanna know why she couldn’t get a job before?” Each word was venomous, as if trying to make Kagome experience the same viciousness of the world as he had.

Kagome stood frozen, eyes wet with tears as her heart began to ache at the realization that he’d endured so much and at such a young age, “Inuy-”

“ No! You wanted to know, so I’m fuckin’ telling you! That’s what you wanted, right?!” A mocking twinge hung in his tone as he leaned forward, head tilted in expectation as his pupils shrunk to slits and his lip curled upward, “You wanted to know that my mom couldn’t get a job because she had a bastard kid, a bastard hanyou kid! She struggled every fuckin’ day of her life because of me, all because of what I was! What I am! ” He brought his hand to his chest, hitting against it with a loud, hollow ‘thud’.

Tears fell freely now, clutching both hands to her chest then as she continued to listen. Each word, each phrase, it broke her heart knowing he had to experience such prejudice. There had been a time where she thought herself being discriminated against for being with Koga - but it was nothing compared to what Inuyasha was telling her, “Inuyasha, I’m so -”

“And you wanna know what else?! Why not just keep fuckin’ goin’?! ‘Cause I got so much more! How about the countless times I’ve been kicked out of someone's house when they find out what I am? My last ex wouldn’t fuckin’ touch me unless it was a human night! That’s what I was doin’ last night, Kagome! Are you happy? Are fuckin’ happy?!” The last expletive was violently emphasized by grabbing a rogue mug left on her kitchen island and whipped across the room, hitting the opposite wall and shattering while leaving a hole in the drywall.

The second one I’m proud of is also from Hit the Like Button and I feel like I really nailed Inuyasha’s personality and tone here:

"No idea what you're talkin' about, lady. Let's just discuss your car, alright? It's over here if you wanna follow me, can you do that?" he asked, again holding a condescending tone which finally had hit a nerve within Kagome.

"I'm sorry?" her tone was more abrasive now.

"This guy is friends with Miroku? Talk about opposites attract."

"You know, 'cause you seem a little slow to start there. What with the rain and all," he mocked before turning and walking towards the back of the garage. It left Kagome with her jaw slightly agape out of shock, as well as trying to find the right words to say in response. Instead, she simply bit her tongue, closing her eyes for a moment before finally following him.

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby? It’s absolutely a hobby. A very time-consuming hobby. I’ve never dreamed about publishing a book or anything like that. But I’ve been writing for 18 years in different formats: fanfiction & role play. I really, really enjoy it but I don’t think I have the patience or talent to publish anything officially.

FANFICTION WRITER QUESTION.

#asks #answered ask #ama #chimiguy

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years ago

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In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 2: Second Chances

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

Support me on kofi

No one has my permssion to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations, as well.

______________________________

Luke stares up at the brick building. He knows he should go in; he wants to go in. But his legs are terrified. Going in means admitting he has a problem. Going in means admitting his wife and child have left him. Going in means he can no longer bury himself in his woes, in alcohol, in chasing down his youth. Going in also means getting back his wife, no, technically ex-wife. Luke wants his ex-wife back. His wants his princess back. But he has to go in, he has to tell some stranger all his problems. He wants his family back.

Luke unbuckles himself, exhaling as he opens the car door. He can do this. He can walk into that office. He can walk through that door, tell the receptionist he has an appointment. He can do this. “Good afternoon, sir,” the receptionist greets.

“Afternoon. I have an appointment at 2:30 with Dr. Johnson,” Luke says. “Hemmings, Luke Hemmings.”

The woman nods, clicking at her keyboard. She grabs an iPad. “Alright, we need you to fill out this questionnaire right quick. And once you finish that, he’ll be right with you.”

Luke nods, a small smile crossing his face. He takes the iPad and turns to the chairs. There are only two other people waiting. Luke settles against the back wall, towards the end of the row, right next to the stack of magazines. This corner feels safe, feels like no one is watching him. Though the receptionist is sitting directly across from him. But she’s busy filling, messing with paperwork.

He fills out his name, states his reason for the visit and then starts answering the questions. His hands start to shake. On a scale, rate how much these are like you from Not at All, to Very Much Like Me. He’s praying alcohol doesn’t come up; he prays they don’t ask him about depression, anxiety. The first few questions are about anger, coping with it. Those aren’t too bad; those are easy to answer. Until he gets to I feel overwhelmed, or nervous, most days of the week.

Luke sighs. He feels fucking overwhelmed right now. Very Much Like Me, he taps the corresponding box. He scrolls down. Shit, this is the stuff he was trying to hide. He could run; he would return the iPad and walk out the fucking door. He wouldn’t have to sit here, becoming a puddle of sweat. He grips the arm of the chair, forcing air out through his nostrils. Running is the exact behavior that landed him here. He always runs. There’s nowhere else to run. He can’t run to alcohol; he can’t run to parties. He can’t run to drugs. Escapism is the biggest lie. Luke is stronger than that. He has to be stronger than it, has to know the true demon that lurks beneath the veil.

Finished with the questionnaire, Luke walks back to the window and hands the iPad over. “Dr. Johnson will be with you shortly,” she smiles at him.

How the fuck can she smile like this, all the time, Luke wonders. Maybe it’s helpful for some. Maybe it makes them feel normal. Everyone knows what’s happening in that waiting room; everyone knows that some kind of invisible demon is haunting the people that sit in these chairs. Settling back into his seat, Luke picks at his nails. The gel polish is mostly gone. Occasionally he’ll pick too deep and nick his nail. This is nerve-wrecking. This is worse than when he stood outside the front door, knowing just on the other side there were going to be divorce papers.

He overheard you once a couple months earlier on the phone. He knew his fate was sealed. He didn’t fight it. He should’ve. He should’ve raised hell. He should’ve promised then to get help. But Luke knew that promise was hollow, even though it never left his lips. That promise to you would’ve been so hollow it would’ve echoed in that bedroom. It would’ve shattered your heart, he’s sure. Because you would’ve sat there and watched him break that promise over and over and over. But he’d keep giving you hollow words. It’s a good thing you left him. He hates not waking up to your curls in his face. He hates eating the food he makes, he can’t every season it like you. He hates not hearing Zahra’s squeals. His apartment is so fucking quiet.

He’s never home because of the silence. It is not home, honestly. It could never be a home without the two of you. “Mr. Hemmings,” a soft voice calls out.

Luke looks up from god-awful navy blue and red dotted carpet to this voice. An elderly man stares back, a smile resting on his face. Luke grips the arms of the chair for maybe a second too long before pushing to his feet. “How are you?” Dr. Johnson asks as he approaches.

Terrified, exhausted, angry, hurt. “Alright,” Luke answers. “You?”

“I’m good. Thanks for asking.”

Luke follows behind the graying man, past offices with door shut. He can’t hear what’s happening behind them. But he has an idea. In Dr. Johnson’s office, Luke settles into the couch, brown leather with a throw pillow in it. It’s low to the floor. Luke feels a tad more secure as his knees press damn near his chest. It’s like the fetal position, his body closing in on him. The leather jacket and leather seat are going to make for a hot combination, for the moment, Luke welcomes the uncomfortable heat. It reminds him that he’s here for a reason, that he’s got to fix himself--for his family, for his child, for himself.

“So,” Dr. Johson says, after tapping away at the computer and pulling out a notebook. He settles into the other low seated chair across from Luke. “I read that your here to get help. Care to explain a bit more for me?”

Luke swallows, throat closing. He needs so much help, so much fucking help. “I need to get my family back,” he answers softly. “My wife left me, took our daughter too. She had every right to leave. I fucked up. I want them back.”

“Are you only getting better for them?”

Luke shakes his head, tears threatening to take over his vision. “I’m tired of running. I wanted to stop years ago. It just took losing everything for me to realize that.”

“Tell me what happened. What are you running from? What are you running to?”

The air is his lungs rushes out past his lips. He’s been running from so much. He’s been running to all the wrong things. “I love my family. But I had a kid before I was ready. I ran from that straight to the bottle. I haven’t had a drink in two weeks, but I know I could easily slip. I don’t want to slip again.”

Dr. Johnson nods, scratching something down on the legal pad. “Well, I’m proud of you getting that far. If you’re serious about help, I can help you. You’re on the right track, taking the right steps.”

__ Zahra runs to the door, after hearing the doorbell ring. It’s Friday night, she knows it’s Luke coming over for dinner. You slide the pan out of the oven, shouting. “Ra, wait!” For the past three and a half months, Luke comes over for family dinners. You didn’t want to completely rip Zahra away from Luke. That was her father, she needed him. He needed Zahra too. It keeps him sane, the highlight of his week is coming over for dinner. She gushes about what’s happening at daycare; her friends. She shows him all her latest drawings. After setting the pan onto the table, you walk over to the door where Ra bounces in joy. Luke stands on the other side of the door, you gather from the glance into through the peephole.

Opening the door, Ra runs to her dad, “Daddy!”

He laughs, showing one hand to her. “Hey, baby girl.” No matter how many times you open that door for Luke, the reunion always makes your heart swell, your eyes a tad watery. Does Zahra hate you for doing this? For putting the three of you into separate houses? You hope she doesn’t. You pray the weekly visits help.

Luke looks up from his squat, unveiling a small bag to you. “It’s for Zahra, but I don’t want to forget to give it,” he says.

With a nod, you take it and he collects the little girl into his free arms, walking into your place. This feels like home to him. It’s not the old house, you didn’t want it and neither did he. He’s not sure who the new owners are, he doesn’t care. The only thing he knew was that too many ghosts lived in that house for him, too many nights of him staying downstairs, stumbling over himself, cursing himself for being too loud. You couldn’t bare to waking up in such a huge bed without his soft snores. You didn’t want to eat breakfast at the same counter you handed divorce papers over.

Zahra clings to her father, face buried in his pale neck. He still smells the same, she thinks. This is still her dad, though he’s not in the same home as her. Though the only person when the nightmares scare her is her mother. “Can you stay the night, Daddy?” she whispers. “I miss you.”

The bag falls into the couch cushion from your fingers. You knew she missed him. You knew she knew how empty the place was without him. She had just never said that to you. She had never uttered the words to express how much she felt her father’s absence. “Oh,” Luke starts, turning to you. The door closes with a soft thud. “Uh,” he’s waiting for you to jump in. He’d love to stay, but this is your house. These are your rules. He can’t make that call.

Heart thundering in your chest, you tuck some hair behind your ear quickly. Luke knows that tick--a nervous twitch, one full of panic. “What are you doing over the weekend?” you ask.

Luke freezes, he wasn’t moving before. But now his muscles seize up on him. Most weekends he goes to the pier, watches the wave. The beach has become a solace for him now. He goes there, goes to the studio to write, then goes home. His life is slowly coming together; he’s learning how to be by himself. “Nothing,” he finally answers.

“Take her for the weekend. She has Brittany’s birthday party at 2 tomorrow, at their house. But that’s it.”

“I’m not--,” he starts. You shake your head, waving a hand to dismiss his statement. He’s taken her the day, on small trips to just hang out. The courts have left that up to your discretion. But overnight, weekends, Luke gave up. He wanted to get his head on straight before taking those rights. He has to check in at 6 months into therapy before the courts will rule on whether he can have weekends.

“I know you have another two and a half months before evaluation, I don’t care. Take her for the weekend.”

He’s laid in bed at night, wishing to take her home with him, staying up until she passes out underneath blanket forts, having her on his shoulders as they walk around the zoo, helping her with whatever work she was learning at the time. He misses those soft moments with her. He needs those moments back. That’s the whole reason he doesn’t keep a bottle in his house, why he doesn’t stay out long with the boys. Because the later the night goes, the more tempted he is to just have one drink. One of the boys always sees him out, he calls Ashton usually, when he gets home. It’s a system--it works. He’s thankful for it.

“Are you serious, Mommy?” Zahra questions.

You nod, looking over to it. She’s not a spitting image of you, some features taking more after Luke, but brown chubby cheeks are lifted in a smile like yours. “I’m serious, sweetie.”

“I don’t wanna go to Brittany’s party,” she says.

“We already got her a gift and said we were going. You have to go.”

“But I don’t want to be away from Daddy.”

“I’ll be there, sweetheart. The entire time,” Luke interjects. He doesn’t want to be away from his princess either.

During dinner, Zahra and Luke plan what other activities they can do over the two days--the movies they can watch, if they should go to the bookstore to find the new book she wants or if ice cream is a better idea. Zahra suggests both, Luke reaches over, running his fingers through her hair and agrees.

Zahra drags Luke behind her, to help her pack her bag for the adventure to his house. Luke finds her bag. “Two outfits,” he directs, opening the dresser to pull out socks and underwear. He hasn’t stocked his place with clothes just yet. She has a few things, mainly just in case she has an accident. Her room was already fully decorated. The first room he completed, it was way too early. But he wanted to make sure that was perfect for her, that she knew she was loved and welcomed by him still.

Zahra hands Luke her choice clothes and he slides them into the bag. She grabs her favorite stuffed teddy bear, survey her room. “Shoes, baby girl. Which ones?” he asks, looking at the collection her closet.

With a nod, she walks over and picks out a pair, glittery and blue. Satisfied that everything is packed, they walk back up front. She give you a hug. “Love you,” she whispers.

“Love you too. Be good for Daddy.”

She nods, smiling. “Of course.”

Luke stands near the door, the pink backpack on his shoulders. “Thank you,” he says. You don’t have to do this. Both of you know you can’t ever mention this, know you’ll have to bribe Zahra to keep quiet about this. But his chest is full again.

“No need to thank me. She’s your kid too.”

It’s only after they have left do you realize that the bag for Zahra is still on the couch. You don’t dare peek inside. Instead you put it on her bed for when she returns. Being with her father is a much better gift anyhow.

__ As you’re picking Zahra up after your last lecture of the day, your phone rings. You don’t answer, don’t even look to see who it is. Until you get home. There’s a voicemail from Luke. You listen to it, pulling your bag from the front seat. “I know you’re probably driving right now. But I was wondering if I could get Ra tomorrow, just for the day. There’s a festival in town--we’re not playing. Some friends are, just wanted to take her with me if that’s okay. Talk to you soon.”

Zahra watches you from the front seat, shocked at your long silence. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Dad’s coming to get you tomorrow for the day,” you smile back at her. She cheers in her carseat, the rest of her evening made. You call him back, agreeing to let her go for the day. One day out of daycare is not going to hurt her. While Zahra floats on cloud nine, you are a nervous wreck. Luke’s pulling himself together. Only two more weeks until his first eval and your gut tells you, he’s going to do well with no problem.

You watch him at family dinners, the way he’s never overstepping, but firm. He always has to warn about the veggies, she’s a bit of stubborn about them. You listen to the way she talks about her days with him, the way she talks about just laying on the couch with him, watching movies, the way he listens to her days, the way they color together. She gets huffy when he reminds her of manners, and patience, almost as if she’s not quite realized that Luke will always discipline her about those things no matter what. He’s still her parent, even if he’s not there 24/7.

Getting Zahra ready is tough. She bounces all over the place, excited to get some time with her dad. It makes you happy, but when Luke knocks to pick her up, she’s still not dressed. Which is not ideal. You open the door, letting Luke in. He’s in white button up, though some of the button’s aren’t done, skinny jeans and a leather jacket. Suddenly the urge to kiss him hits you, but you swallow it back down. This isn’t his normal attire for coming over. You never lost attraction to him, but this look surely makes it a bonfire instead of a burning candle.

Even with the mild distraction, you’re able to focus on the tasks at hand. “She’s being a bit rambunctious today. She’s dressed, just needs to finish eating and brush her teeth.”

Luke nods, with a smile. His face is fuller now too. On his walk over to the dining room table, his fingers brush over yours. Zahra rushes down the rest of her meal, wanting to head out as soon as possible. You collect the bowl, rinsing out in the Luke.

“Brush your teeth. I’m timing for the whole two minutes,” he says to Zahra. She groans but runs to the bathroom.

You can feel Luke’s gaze burning holes in the back of your head. What does he want? His presence closes in on you, the warmth from his scolding your back almost. “I know I really fucked up,” he starts.

Do not turn around, you warn yourself. “You’re human.”

“No, but I really fucked up. I ran from my responsibility when I shouldn’t have. I made you effectively a mother of two, trying to baby me and raise an actual baby. I can’t promise I won’t stumble, that I won’t make other mistakes. I just need you to know that you handing me those divorce papers was the wake up call I needed. I’m sorry for making you got through that. I’m sorry for acting like a child instead of speaking up.”

His hand wraps gently around your wrist, warm and firm. Pulling you from the counter, he turns you, blue eyes meeting brown. You swear for a second the air leaves your chest. His remorse swims behind his eyes. “I’m asking this kind of early, I know. I’m not hundred percent okay. I’m not ready to jump back into the deep end. But I just need to know, do you really believe in second chances? Would you really take me back?”

You nearly went to the ends of the earth for this man. You ran yourself crazy, but you love him. You love him. Luke takes your silence for a moment, but panic hits him in his chest. “I love you, I never stopped loving you.” His hand cups your cheek. The feeling of him against your skin makes your toes curl.

“I believe in second chances,” you sigh, eyes fluttering close. “I’m not a liar. I will take you back.”

His body exhales, Luke closes his eyes for a moment, head dropping towards yours. Foreheads resting against each other, you can’t help but inhale his cologne. He feels all too familiar as you step into him, gently resting a hand against his hip. “Can I kiss you?” he breathes, the smell of mint falling into your nostrils.

You should say no, but your body aches for him. “Yes.”

His lips find yours, softly pressing together. Someone swallows the other’s sigh of relief. One hand curls around his elbow, the other digging into the fabric of his jeans. Luke pulls away, only a tad hovering right above your lips. It would be so easy to kiss him again. He pulls back again, heart racing in his chest. He wonders if it will burst.

“Are you and Mommy getting back together?” Zahra asks. The two of you clear your throat, smoothing clothes.

He leans against the fridge, biting on his lip. He wants too, just not right now. He’s not in the right headspace fully, there’s still so much work for him to do on himself. Luke glances over to you. The shrug pulls your shoulders up for a moment before releasing it. He bends down. “Give Daddy some more time. I’m getting help and soon, maybe Mommy and I can talk about that. But I still love you, you know that right?”

The sparkle in Ra’s eyes dulls. She hates watching him leave. She wants him to stay. “I know,” she answers. She looks up at her father. He looks so much happier, so much better. She likes him like this. “Just keep getting better, Daddy, please?”

Wrapping her in a hug, Luke feels the tears running down his cheek. “I will, baby girl. Daddy promises to keep getting better.”

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings series #dad!luke #dad!luke series #5sos #5 seconds of summer #h writes #luke hemmings x south asian reader #luke hemmings x reader #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine

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