#ah you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out about HER! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

critrolesideblog · 1 month

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AO3

"Hi, Yussa!" Yussa paused, fork suspended in midair, as the voice of Jester Lavorre flared into his mind, sudden and bright, but not at its usual break-neck pace. There was a slight pause as she considered her words. "Caleb wants to send a friend through your teleportation circle tomorrow… Friend is from Xhorhas… just passing through… Caleb casting - that okay?" He heard a note of triumph in her voice as she managed to complete the question within the allotted word limit. From Xhorhas… It was not every day he had visitors from Xhorhas, and for Caleb Widogast to ask… that was intriguing.

"I may be amenable to that, so long as Widogast is not handing out my teleportation coordinates to whomever requests them."

"He's not." The reply came so closely on the heels of his own that she must have started casting before he completed the thought. "He really wanted me to stress that. Great! Esssss- our friend will message you when he is on his way. He's cool! You'll love--"

"Very well," was all he replied, and as the spell released, he felt a reverberation of annoyance at his failure to use up the space allowed. He smiled to himself as he retrieved his fork and called to Wensforth to clear his schedule. Tomorrow promised to be an interesting day.

---

"Well, we should get on with it I suppose," Caleb said softly. His breath was warm against Essek's ear as he squeezed him tightly one last time, and Essek breathed in the now-familiar scent of him -- woodsmoke, incense, leather, parchment, Caleb. Essek knew he was right. They had delayed long enough as it was, lingering on an outcropping of rock, sheltered from Eiselcross's fierce winds and bitter cold by Leomund's Tiny Hut. Caleb had important things to get to in the Empire, and Essek should not keep him from them. But he indulged in his selfishness a moment longer, keeping his grip around Caleb firm. He was the stronger wizard, by a hair, and Caleb did not resist the embrace. Instead, he leaned his cheek against Essek's for a breath, and then offered a kiss there in exchange for his release.

"I suppose so," Essek agreed at last, keeping his hands in touch with Caleb's form until the very last brush of fingertips against fingertips as he slipped from his grasp and crouched to begin drawing the teleportation circle.

Essek turned away from the sigils being drawn and looked out over the icy tundra. The day was fittingly grey and dreary, the sun a weak suggestion of a glow through the haze of snow on the horizon. He pulled a copper wire from his pocket, stretched it, condensed it, collapsed the distance between his voice and its intended recipient: "Hello, I hope I am not intruding. I will be arriving in one minute."

"Thank you for the warning," replied an unfamiliar voice, sounding pleasantly-surprised. "I will be waiting."

Curious.

"He sounded surprised to hear from me," he called back over his shoulder. "That was the plan, was it not?"

"Ja," Caleb's voice sounded amused. "But our calling ahead is usually a message from a few floors up after we've already arrived."

"Ah… yes, that does sound like you."

"It's a good thing Jester is so charming."

"We will have much to commiserate over."

"Ready?"

Essek turned back to find Caleb twisting the remaining stub of chalk this way and that in his hands, the circle beyond awaiting the final marks that would complete it. He took a deep breath to steady himself and with a flourish of his hand and a murmured word cast Disguise Self. He then slipped a pearl from a pouch on his belt and held it close enough to Caleb's forehead to feel the warmth radiating from his skin but vigilant not to touch it. Caleb's clear, blue eyes looked at him with such warmth that it made him want to say foolish, selfish things about running away together or venturing into Aeor once more, but he murmured only the verbal component of the spell and took another steadying breath.

"Good luck, Caleb Widogast."

"Don't be a stranger."

Caleb knelt again and completed the final rune.

------

Disguise Self.

Disappointing.

Yussa had all night and the better part of the morning to hypothesize on the identity and motivations of his intended guest and came up with a few interesting theories. Interesting being the key word. The Mighty Nein were many things, but never dull.

He could allow that the handsome, young Drow now standing in his teleportation circle had applied the spell in a smart way: shifts to the hue of his skin and eyes and adjustments to his facial features, leaving his hair, clothes, and the shape of his ears true to form. Such small changes were harder for the untrained eye to spot. But he had to have known he would be arriving to a pair of very well-trained eyes.

The young man arranged his features into a soft, politician's smile.

"Yussa Errenis, I presume." He bowed politely, speaking in Common. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Yussa dissected his features for tells of the veracity of this statement, but even looking past the paltry illusion, he was hard to read. Good for him, he supposed. Good for his chances at surviving this side of the Ashkeeper Peaks, anyway. There was a slight shift in pitch to his voice that might have been earnestness, but he arrived in Yussa's home in a poorly-thought-out and -- more importantly -- boring disguise. He could not allow that to pass unchecked.

"Welcome," Yussa replied in High Elven to match the young man's mask (and his own). He watched his attention come to a still point on the sound of his voice as he continued at a conversational speed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And what is your name? Ms. Lavorre did not provide it." He knew high-born Drow (which he would wager his guest to be given the fine make of his clothes, if he were a gambling man, which he was) often studied High Elven as part of their schooling, but with little occasion to use it, found it difficult to converse in. It did not help that Drow diverged from High Elvish some centuries ago, influenced by Undercommon in subtle but important ways.

His eyes became sharp above his soft smile as his mind worked quickly.

"Sylmarr is my name. I'm sorry. It took me a moment to… change roads." He responded at length, accented but much more smoothly than Yussa expected, and that was interesting…. Sylmarr… Right.

"Please, come in. I have prepared tea for us."

"Ah, no. Apologies, I cannot--"

"I insist. It would be very rude of me to have you in my home and not at least provide you with tea. Right this way."

Yussa lead the way down the stairs and heard a soft huff and the rustling of a cloak behind him. Sylmarr's steps behind him on the stairs were quiet…

Imperceptible…

Nonexistent?

He glanced back. He had not paid attention to his feet before, noticing only the height of his head to be commensurate with the illusion, but he saw now there was a space between his feet and the steps. Indeed, now that he was so close behind him, he caught …

He never found a good word for it in any language. It was not a scent exactly or a taste but an evocation of ozone and burnt metal and the feeling in the back of one's skull when dizzy and about to fall. Something he hasn't sensed in a long, long time.

Interesting.

Yussa's tower contained a number of receiving rooms for guests of varying importance. The one Sylmarr was ushered into had walls painted a shade of blue that matched the midday sky outside and high windows that opened onto balconies rarely visible from the exterior but which offered sweeping views of the city, the harbor, and the ocean. Layers of finely-woven linen curtains filtered the bright Nicodranian sunlight. The furniture was made of imported, Uthodurnian maple, expensive but not ostentatious. Yussa settled into his favorite high-backed chair upholstered in a rich turquoise velvet by the tea table as Sylmarr paused by the window overlooking the city. When he turned back to the room, his politician's smile was gone, replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"So, do you think my Elvish is good enough to continue with this disguise?"

"Briefly, perhaps, but if you plan to spend much time in the Menagerie Coast, your accent is just strong enough to garner unwanted attention. I would recommend limiting its use to places further afield."

"Understood."

He sat gingerly on the edge of the chair opposite Yussa, as if it might grow a mouth and consume him if he got comfortable. Not an unreasonable fear, all things considered, Yussa mused as he poured the tea. One of the adventurers he travelled with centuries ago was almost consumed by such a creature… Talia? No, Talia, when he travelled with the Wandering Wyrd, was almost killed by a Gelatinous Cube. It was Tyros with the --

"You have lived in Nicodranas for some time?"

"For over two centuries. Before that I travelled. A little bird told me--" at three in the morning last night, when she could not sleep and decided to make that Yussa's problem "--you have been travelling yourself recently."

"A bit."

"With Caleb Widogast?"

"He speaks very highly of you."

"He is an impressive talent and a good ally."

"And a good friend."

"I have not known many high-born Drow to speak of friends."

"Well," Sylmarr retrieved his teacup from its saucer. "I have been called exceptional." Yussa was uncertain whether he actually took a sip or just made a convincing show of it. He fixed Yussa with a sharp gaze as he set the cup back down neatly. "And have you known many Kryn?"

"A few."

"You've been to Xhorhas?"

"Not for many centuries." Yet he remembered the way the wind swept across the plains, ruffling the grasses like a great, invisible hand, the dry caress of it on his cheek. The bustle of the Gallimaufry at New Dawn. The ebb and flow of song as devotees wound their way through the streets. The echoing halls of the Marble Tomes, traversed by its supplicants with as much reverence as any shining temple.

"Have you any Undercommon?" Sylmarr asked, switching tongues as he did so. Yussa smiled at the at the attempt to knock him off his game, failed though it was.

"A bit, yes."

"You are well-travelled, indeed."

"Quite. Now, back to Caleb Widogast." This elicited a small crack the genteel mask as Sylmarr's eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly. He sat back in his chair then, settling in for whatever Yussa had to say.

"What about him?"

"As I have said, he is an impressive talent and a good ally. I consider him something of a --" Student wasn't right word. Nor apprentice. "A mentee of mine, if you will. We have different arcane specialties, but I believe I have some wisdom to offer on surviving as a mage in a mercenary group, not to mention centuries worth of professional connections." Sylmarr made no response, except to pick up his teacup again with a noise of polite attentiveness. "Ms. Lavorre mentioned to me that you are an accomplished arcanist as well, and you've taught Caleb -- I believe her exact words were a bunch of cool magic." Sylmarr frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

"I taught him the basics of my discipline, but much of the interesting magic of mine that he possesses he reverse engineered." He said the last words with a huff of annoyance that had little heat behind it. "He caught up to me very quickly and has taught me some of his own discipline as well."

"You would consider yourselves peers?"

"Yes," he responded quietly, lowering his eyes to his teacup for a moment, and there was a soft, shy smile on his lips, a little awkward and, if Yussa was not quite mistaken, tender. …Ah.

"I see."

"Yes," his smile sharpened quickly into something more keen. "You need not worry about me poaching your mentee." Yussa was only allowed an instant's intimation of indignation before Sylmarr continued. "If anything, I may wish to avail myself of some of your wisdom before too long, if that is agreeable to you." Ah… well… Yussa took a sip of a tea. He supposed if he wasn't losing the ear of the rising star in the field of Transmutation that would be alright, and the proposition did present an opening.

"It is agreeable, but I prefer to know my mentees' names. Sylmarr doesn't strike me as particularly Kryn."

"Neither does Errenis Yussa."

No, it doesn't does it, Yussa mused as he took another sip of his tea. Then again, that was rather the point when he chose it. There were other considerations as well, of course. He reflexively ran the pad of his thumb against a spot on his finger where a ring had not existed for centuries. Sylmarr was watching him with a haughty expression that dared him to challenge his conclusion. He considered the merits of feigning confusion but had to ask. "What gave it away?"

"If my Sun Elvish is a little too rough, your Undercommon is a little too smooth. There are also the windows." He gestured toward the curtains. "It could be polite consideration for an expected Drow guest, but I find non-Drow's idea of dimmed daylight is often still too bright. The odds that you happened to get it just the right amount to see clearly are slim. Also, the way you have arranged your robes -- I believe it is the custom in Gwardan to arrange the front panels right over left, not left over right." It was, but it always felt wrong.

"I see." Yussa set his teacup neatly in its saucer. "In that case, let us be plain with each other." He dispelled the young man's Disguise Self with a flick of his wrist, allowing the lilac eyes, high cheekbones, stardust freckles on twilight skin to become fully clear at last. He let his own facade fall as well.

They surveyed each other quietly for a moment: two Drow in a sunlit room.

The young man bowed politely in greeting as he had when he first arrived. Yussa bowed in return, and asked "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and you are?" His persistence earned him a wry sort of grin, followed by a frown.

"I … have enemies," he responded slowly. "It may be better for your not to know."

"It is always better to know."

That earned him another wry grin and a moment's thoughtful consideration.

"Thelyss," he said at last, with a sigh. "Essek." Thelyss. Not just a noble den, but a ruling den. Yussa did some quick mental math regarding the Luxon beacon the Mighty Nein brought him, some months ago now, the level of political intrigue that would have been required for its Dwendallian sojourn, and the likelihood of Essek's involvement. Interesting. "And you?"

"Errenis Yussa is the only name of mine that matters, and the only one I have used for a long time."

Essek's lips formed a thin line, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. Open curiosity burned in his eyes. Nevertheless, he had the tact to approach his next question gingerly. "May I ask why you left Xhorhas?"

"No." Yussa replied primly, pushing aside memories of that first band of adventurers that wandered into his life (the way Dzi'an's golden eyes shone when he laughed, Anat's swagger, Maggie's sweet voice). "Not this visit, anyway. It is a long story, and I believe you have a ship to catch." Essek conceded the line of questioning with a nod.

"You're not wrong."

Yussa gestured for Essek to stand and with a word and a twist of the hand settled a Seeming spell around him, so he looked much as he did before, though with a new touch of gold embroidery to the hem of his robes. "Do you have Seeming in your repertoire?" He asked, and Essek had the good grace to look mildly chagrinned at the question.

"I do, but I wished to conserve my spell energies."

"Energy expended to avoid a fight is never wasted, young man." Essek barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the platitude, which delighted Yussa to no end, and he smiled smugly to himself as he reapplied his own facade and ushered Essek from the parlor.

"Do the Nein know?" Essek asked, pausing before the front door. "Of your… origin?"

"Not that I am aware of. I did hint once that my appearance in the Empire would cause a stir should my illusion be dispelled, but they had other, greater mysteries pressing on them as I recall. You may tell them if you wish."

"Ah, I only asked because Jester implied to me once that she thought you were a dragon. I wondered if she was pranking me, but perhaps not. Fare well." And with that, he glided out into the bright hustle and bustle of the Open Quay, melding quickly into the crowd and leaving Yussa standing agape in the doorway.

A dragon?

#it's wizard wednesday!#yussa errenis #essek thelyss #shadowgast #couldn't resist a little interlude #see the notes on AO3 for my Yussa is a [spoiler] theory :)#my writing tag

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slytherinbangchan · 1 year

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Inked Dreams (NCT Dream Tattoo Artist!Au) (M)

Chap 1 out of 6 -> Second arc: Tattoo apprentice Park Jisung x tattoo artist female reader.

>>Inked Dream's Chap 1 here

Summary: A NCT Dream Tattooist!Au where the Dreamies are college's heartthrobs and most likely will steal your heart whenever you less expect it.

Cute, shy but very hot, flirty Jisung. A deadly combo, I promise.

Inked Dreams Masterlist~

[2nd Arc: Seven Days. ("A Week" 없어.)🐹 Chap 1.]

Wow, that was close. You hate having to postpone apprenticeships. It's hard enough to make room for them in your schedule as it is, so you don't even want to think about having to reorganize everything again until you'd find a new apprentice. Luckily you remembered about Renjun's friend in the middle of your crisis. You wonder which one of them might be though. Cause you know that most of them already finished their training. A couple even got their licenses, but Renjun is the only one working at a shop and you have only met some of the guys in person when they've visited him but you can't really remember all of their faces right now. Guess you'll have to wait.

“Hello, are you y/n? We saw your pics on insta.” A guy talks to you and you forget about the apprenticeship for a while. Normally you don't have time to take walk in clients, but they were two foreigners and just wanted a very simple and small tattoo each as a reminder of their trip before leaving the city. Since you have the apprenticeship in an hour, and it's the first day, you didn't make any other appointments. So you take them in and quickly start working together to pick the perfect tattoo.

As you tattoo the second guy, someone else enters the shop. You stop for a moment to lift your eyes and see a tall guy with black-blue hair and an undercut, a lip ring piercing and a good amount of tattoos. He says hi shyly and you chuckle softly at how cute he looks while doing so. “You're Renjun's friend, right?” You guess and he nods. “Jisung.” He says and you invite him to sit while you finish your work.

“Sorry that I didn't introduce myself properly earlier.” You apologize after sending your clients away. “Ah, it's okay, I know who you are anyway.” He says as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, right. Renjun must have told you about me, right?” You ask him as you clean your equipment and he nods. “Actually... I really like your work too so...” He says and you lightly blush. “Oh, you do? Wow, thank you. I'm sure I'll be a fan of yours too.” You smile at him and he shyly nods as he thanks you.

Ah, he's really handsome and has a deep voice too. You wonder how old he might be... Probably a bit younger than you since he's still in college.

Your second apprentice, Seonhui, arrives just in time and you introduce her to Jisung before getting started. Since it's the first day, you explain a couple of stuff to them and then later in the day, allow them to watch you work on some clients. Making them take turns to apply what they learned about cleaning the tattoo equipment. They both learn fast and haven't wasted much time talking to eachother, they simply focused on what you were explaining to them the whole time.

“Wow, you guys did really well today. Thank you for listening so carefully.” You thank them and they nod. “Do you have any questions before leaving?” You ask and Jisung stays silent but Seonhui shakes her head. “No doubts but I wanted to thank you again for being my mentor.” She says and you thank her too for choosing you. Her phone rings then, just before she speaks again. “Oh... I have to go. Sorry.” She apologizes and you nod. "Mhm, see you tomorrow Seonhui."

“What about you?” You ask Jisung as you get ready to leave the shop too. “Now or never.” You chuckle. “Well, not never, but you won't be able to ask your question until tomorrow otherwise.” You say as you put away in the cabinet some bottles of ink. “Well... Can I buy you dinner, mentor?” He asks and you blush immediately. Thankfully he can't see your face right now. “Dinner?” You ask, still hiding behind the cabinet's door. It's not like you're thinking anything weird, you just didn't expect him to ask something like that. “Mhm, as a thank you for thinking of me for the apprenticeship and becoming my mentor.” He explains and you finally look at him. “You know that you're already paying me for that, right?” You ask and you see him chuckle for the first time. Your heart skips a beat at how handsome he is, but you brush that thought off your head as soon as you can. “Mhm~” He says, playing with his labret as he says so, and you scoff as you smile. “Then stop with the nonsense. You don't have to buy me anything, just go home and spend that money on something else.” You tell him as you walk past him on your way to check the register before leaving, and he slightly moves a bit so your shoulder brushes with his arm, but you decide to pretend you didn't see that.

You put your phone away before setting the alarm at the shop and getting outside. It's already cold these days but not as bad as it'll get in a month or so. You wish there was more people in the streets though, also there's not a lot of buses that can take you home by this time of the night. You feel relieved as you see a woman waiting at the bus stop, luckily you won't be alone with the drunk men that sometimes take your same bus.

You sigh after checking how long the bus is going to take to arrive then lean on the bus stop sign. Someone clears his throat behind you and you turn around to see Jisung standing there. “Hello.” He shyly says and you lightly blush. “You were there the whole time?” You ask and he nods. “Wow, I'm sorry. I really didn't see you.” You apologize and he ruffles his hair nervously as he smiles. “It's okay.” He says, then you apologize again and put on your already dead for the day airpods to pretend you're going to listen to some music as he goes back to listening to his.

There's a bit of a weird vibe as you wait for the bus in silence. Guess it's normal when you know the person next to you a bit but not enough to keep a conversation. You never liked small talk and he's shy enough for the both of you. So, for now, pretending to listen to music will do.

When the bus finally arrives he waits for you to step in first. You sit next to the back door and he stands close to it too. Your eyes accidentally meet a couple times but apart from that, there's no interactions until you reach your stop and you softly pull from his hoodie's sleeve to say good bye. He blushes lightly and takes one of his airpods off. “I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You smile at him and he nods. “Mhm.” He shyly says and you chuckle softly. “Bye then.”

Ah, damn, that was cute. You chuckle to yourself again as you think about it. “He really wanted to buy me dinner when he can't even look at me for more than 5 seconds, huh?” You say to yourself, feeling the blood running to your cheeks as you think of his blushing face. “Ah, seriously.”

------------------------ Next Day~

“Jisung-ah, come here.” Renjun calls him as soon as he shows up the door and he shyly walks towards you two. “Was it yesterday the first time you came to the shop?” He asks and Jisung tilts his head. “Of course not.” He answers and Renjun laughs. “And you knew y/n noona already, didn't you?” He asks again and Jisung nods. “Yeah, we never talked before though.” He explains and Renjun slaps your arm softly. “See?” He chuckles and you feel like you're in a prank video or something. “Lies! I hadn't seen you in my life til yesterday?” You tell Jisung and he chuckles softly too as he nervously rubs his sideburns. “You're making him nervous noona.” Renjun laughs and Jisung takes out his phone and scrolls down. “Here...” He shows you a pic on one of the mirrors of the shop. “This is from last month.” He explains and Renjun clicks his tongue. “See?” He asks. “Anyway, I have to work on a tattoo so let's talk later.” Junn says before ruffling your hair and walking away.

“Do you have more pics?” You ask Jisung as you fix your hair and he nods. “I really come here a lot.” He chuckles softly as he blushes lightly while looking for more pics and you silently watch him do it, wondering what scenarios make him shy and which ones make him comfortable enough to talk to you normally, like he's doing right now. “Ah! Here.” He says, showing you his phone again. “This is from when I got my neck tattoo a couple months ago.” He explains and you check the photo. You can even see yourself in it working in the background. “Okay... I guess I was too busy to notice.” You chuckle and he does too. “I'm sorry Jisung. I promise you I won't forget about you from now on at least.” You say and he blushes again as he nods.

Seonhui texts you saying she'll be a bit late. So you take Jisung with you in the meantime and tell him about what he'll be doing today. “But you can clean around a bit while we wait for Seonhui anyway.” You tell him after showing him the schedule and he does as you say. “Jisung-ah, can you bring me more black ink?” Renjun asks. “Ah, sure hyung.” He replies and you hand him a bottle so he takes it to Renjun. “Careful, it's open.” You warn him and he nods, then one of your co-workers drops something heavy, startling Jisung, and you watch him spilling some ink and bringing his stained hands to his face. “Nooo! Omg..” You say as you try to stop him, but you can't help to chuckle.

“So, you get startled easily, huh?” You ask as you carefully wipe the ink from his cheeks and he lightly blushes. “Yeah...” He says, looking at the floor and you chuckle softly again. He's sitting on a chair in the break room. He was too tall for you to help him out otherwise. But right now, he looks so helpless and tiny in your eyes. “I'm sorry, mentor...” He apologizes and you almost punch yourself as you feel your heart about to skip a beat. “It's fine, it was funny actually.” And with that, internally, you meant fucking adorable.“That ink is expensive though...” He continues moping and you sigh. “Jisung, it's not the last time you're gonna spill some ink.” You chuckle. “Don't think too much about it, yeah?” You ask, guiding his chin up with your hand so he finally looks at you. You lean over to make sure you got rid of all the ink, making him blush very obviously in the process. That's when you realize how close your faces actually are. “Y-You should wash your hands too.” You tell him, taking a step back, and he nods and leaves to do as you said.

You meet Renjun's eyes as soon as you step out the room. “I saw that.” He says, making you blush even more. But you simply show him the middle finger, making him laugh.

Seonhui finally arrives right after that and Jisung comes back just a minute later. “Hello.” Seonhui says and Jisung says hi back. “So... How old are you?” She asks him as you prepare some materials. “Ah, I'm 21...” He says, he definitely sounds kinda awkward now. “Yeah, I thought I saw you at some of my classes. We are the same age. Let's be comfortable around eachother, yeah?” She suggests. He agreeds with a shy nod and you chuckle at how cute they look.

By the end of the day Jisung looks exhausted. You're not sure if it's cause of all the work you made them do or just the amount of questions he had to answer to Seonhui. “Well, I have to go. My friend is here to pick me up~.” She happily says and everyone says good bye to her. Jisung sighs as soon as she's out, making you chuckle. “So, it was her.” You say and he blushes. “Huh?” He asks and you chuckle again. “I was wondering why you looked so tired.” You explain. “Oh... Yeah, I had never been interrogated like that before.” He says and you giggle. “Yeah, well. Go home and rest then.” You say, taking over what he was doing. “Ah, no... Noona... I can finish my chores.” He says, then immediately blush. “I mean, mentor...” He corrects himself and you chuckle. “It's okay Jisung, we're gonna be around eachother for a long time. Plus, you're a close friend to Renjun. Noona is fine.” You tell him and he shyly nods. “Now, go home and rest a lot, yeah?” You say, but he doesn't move so you tilt your head at him, confused, and he blushes lightly once again. “I was thinking...” “Hey.” Renjun says, interrupting Jisung. “I'm leaving, you're walking noona home, right?” He asks and your heart skips a beat. “What? Who?” You ask, looking at both of them. “Jisung, who else? He lives just one bus stop away from you. He told me last night.” Renjun explains and you look at Jisung who simply nods making Renjun scoff as he smiles. “Noona, you're always complaining about the drunk guys in the bus, right?” He asks. “Yeah but I don't think he needs to walk me home.” You tell him. “Why not?? Jisung lives roughly 15min away from you and you both leave the shop more or less at the same time every night.” He says and you sigh. “Okay, I get how we could leave and get the bus together. But why would he get down a stop earlier just to walk me home? It's 5 minutes from the stop to my apartment.” You explain as you chuckle. “Hm, well I'm just a bit worried about the drunk guys situation, but you two talk about it and decide whatever you want, yeah?” He asks and Jisung nods. “See you tomorrow guys.” Renjun says. “Yeah, thank you for worrying Junnie, see you.” You say, waving at him as he walks out.

There's a bit of an awkward silence after Renjun leaves so you simply start getting ready to go back home and Jisung does the same. It's not like you hate the idea of having him in the bus with you, since you hate going back home alone, but you feel bad about him having to wait for you to close the shop when it's your turn to do so. “Jisung...” You call, startling him a bit. “Sorry... Are you sure you're okay waiting for me even the days I have to stay later to close the shop?” You ask, kinda pouting without realizing. “Of course.” He says. “But what about your morning classes?” You insist. “They're not that early nor everyday, it's okay noona. I promise.” He says, and it's not like you know him a lot, but he seems pretty sure about this. You sigh and tip-toe to ruffle his hair, making him blush one more time. “Okay, let's leave already anyway. I'll finish this tomorrow.”

“Jisung-ah, you only have one piercing?” You ask on your way to the bus stop trying to make some conversation. “Ahh, no.” He says, then leans over to show you his ear. “Oh, the industrial~ Right. I saw it earlier when I was wipping the ink out of you.” You chuckle. “I actually really like those.” You tell him and he smiles happily, making your heart flutter lightly.

There's a bit of a silence as you wait for the bus to arrive but, this time, it's not awkward at all. “So, Renjun jokes around saying you're all college heartthrobs, is it true though?” You ask as you get in the bus and he chuckles. “I guess so.” He says and you gasp, a bit surprised that he's not denying it. “Reaallyy? Wow.” You say, making him chuckle again. “So you're a heartbreaker, huh?” You insist and he smiles shyly. “I wouldn't say that...” He says and you laugh. “Woah, you totally are. That answer said everything.” You jokingly say and he keeps chuckling. “Aah... Noona...” He says as he blushes, ruffling his hair. “You want me to stop?” You ask, chuckling and he shyly nods as he smiles. “Okay, okay. I understand.” You say. “It's really not like that...” He insists after a tiny pause and you bite your lower lip trying to keep in a smile. “I see.”

You remain silent for the rest of the route until your stop, but again, it's not awkward at all. You're both just too tired and distracted with music or what the few people in the bus are talking about, you don't need to chat. But he's sitting next to you today, he's almost too tall for that seat though and it's somehow adorable.

Your eyes drift to his arms's tattoos as he plays with his fingers while listening to music. He doesn't have complete sleeves and you wonder if he'd allow you to fill some spots with your art at some point. You don't know him enough though, you barely have any idea of what you could design for him that would suit his mind too, but ah, you're so curious... After knowing him for two days, you definitively want to know what goes on up there. “Noona.” You hear him calling you but it's like if he was far away, you're too deep into your thoughts right now. “Noona.” He calls again, and it's then when you notice that his hands are not playing anymore but waving at you. Fuck. Did he notice how you were staring at his arms?

You blush lightly and look at him. “Yeah?” You finally answer and he smiles softly. “Your stop...” He says and you look outside. “Ah, yeah. Thank you, I was a bit distracted.” You say, as you stand up to get closer to the door. “Yeah, I could tell.” He says. Is he smirking? You throw him a look, narrowing your eyes at him and he giggles. “I didn't see anything.” He winks at you and you scoff as you smile. Where's his confidence coming from so suddenly? “I don't know what you're talking about.” You jokingly say and he chuckles. “You can take another look tomorrow, noona.” He teases as the bus's doors open and you scoff again. Can't believe those words are coming from his mouth. “Bye, Jisung.” You say, as you get down, ignoring his teasing, and he chuckles to himself. “Mhm~ bye noona.” He says and you wave at him without looking back.

You stare at his last text for a long second as you blush before just tossing your phone to a side. Is he drunk? You almost convice yourself that what happened last minute at the bus was just an illusion but... Is he an actual fuckboy or something? You chuckle softly to yourself as you think about it but you're still blushing. No, can't be. He's too shy for that, probably he simply felt comfortable enough to make a couple of silly jokes. "Yep, that's probably it." You tell yourself, brushing it off, then you unlock your phone to check your other chats, but Jisung's is still open and his last text makes you blush again. “Ahh, seriously... What's with this kid?”

1st Arc🐻🐬..... Next chapter🐹

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library-child · 11 months

Text

Killdeer Fields

Written for @asouefanworkevent

Content warning: Alcoholism, utter mental deterioration

"And a man calling himself Hangfire told you you'd never see your father again? That's all?" police officer Hallward asked.

Ellington just nodded, too tired to speak.

He put his pen and notebook away and gave her a sympathetic look. The station typewriter had already been put away in one of the wooden boxes stacked against the walls of the shed. The police station itself had been flooded months ago when the water had reached the center of Killdeer Fields. Officer Hallward had moved to an abandoned farm shed uptown, but now, he was leaving along with everyone else.

"What are we to do now?"

"I'll send a telegram to the authorities once I'm at the train station. But first, we'll need to find someone who will take you along."

"I can't leave!" Ellington protested. "What if he comes back and I'm not here?"

Officer Hallward sighed. "No one will ever come back here."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellington ran up the muddy road past the abandoned farms, ignoring her aching feet. Everyone had always complained about the upper part of Main Street being an uneven clay road. Now, it was the only part left. All the shiny new cobblestones downtown had been washed away by brackish water.

She reached the last farm where some sickly-looking cows still stood on the field.

"Bill," she called, knocking at the door of the farmhouse. She had only ever known the farmer who had supplied her father with milk for the rescued animals as Old Bill. "Are you home?"

There was no answer, but Ellington found the door was open. The smell of rot and cold smoke hit her as she moved down a dim hallway until she arrived in the kitchen and nearly gagged.

Old Bill sat slumped on a bench at the table, surrounded by bottles and dirty dishes. The table and the floor were stained with tobacco. His sparse hair and worn clothes were crusted with dirt.

"Why, Ellington." He broke into a slow smile as he noticed her. His few remaining teeth were black. "How nice. Where's your father? I haven't seen him in a while."

Ellington swallowed hard to force back the tears. She was terrified. "So - so you don't know where he might be? He's been kidnapped! Nobody knows why!"

Bill coughed violently, steadying himself by clutching a half-empty whisky bottle.

"Kidnapped, you say? Ah. Probably those blasted other farmers. They've been making my cows sick, you know. They're jealous. Every night, they sneak over the fence to poison them."

Ellington ran.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I understand you've been asking everyone about your father's whereabouts."

Mrs. Gray, mayor no more, watched the movers carrying the furniture out of her grand hall onto waiting trucks. She had lost the election as the flood had risen.

"You claim he was kidnapped by a man named Hangfire."

"Hangfire claimed it. He called me on the phone. His voice was terrible." Ellington had no strength left to hold back her tears. She just wept.

Mrs. Gray sighed with a mixture of pity and disgust on her face.

"You need to stop that. Nobody has time to deal with such nonsense. You should have come to see me before anyone else."

She gave Ellington a handkerchief and patted her shoulder.

"Pack your things and come back here tomorrow morning. We'll take you with us and get you a job at a farm. You are a capable girl. In a few years, you'll surely manage to build your own place. Wouldn't you like that?"

Ellington didn't argue with Mrs. Gray. She went home to pack her suitcase. But she never showed up at Mrs. Gray's house. Instead, she dragged her suitcase behind her all the way to the train station and snuck into an empty cargo car. Her arms ached from carrying her father's record player. She feared the music might give her away, but nobody was around, and she couldn't bear the silence.

#all the wrong questions #lemony snicket #atwq #ellington feint #woevember

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galadae · 1 year

Note

💜 for calien? 🥺🤲 (if you’re still taking these <3)

Thank you dani! ❤️ and @i-mybrunettelady who also requested this prompt. It's a first kiss :3

Impulsive | 1.3k words | occurs during the SB patches, vague mention of some SB events

The breeze carries with it the scent of sheep and cook fires. Hien’s shoes crunch in the short grass as he makes his way along the side of the hill above Reunion.

"It’s a fairly small repair. The mender's apprentice said it should take an hour." Calantha pockets her coin purse as she strides up to him. "I suppose we have some time to ourselves."

"That is fine by me." He flashes her a smile. "We may as well enjoy the rest, before tomorrow."

He tries not to stare at the way the light catches her face as she turns to him. The sun hangs low above the mountains of the steppe, lighting the back of her short violet hair like fire.

"I remember when we first met here," she says. "And the days that followed where you beat me in both a hunting contest and a duel. It was not a pleasant time for me."

"Ah yes." His lips curl into a smirk. "And the terrible secret I won from you."

Calantha rolls her eyes. "Don’t mention it. I've been dying for a rematch to redeem myself. Imagine having to tell you, a total stranger, such a thing, right after you defeated me." She shakes her head. "Or perhaps you'll do me a favor and forget. It’s been long enough. Surely you have no use of ridiculous facts about me."

"As I recall, you agreed to it, my friend. And your secret simply amuses me too greatly. I refuse to forget."

She snorts. "Of course you do."

Hien laughs. "Never fear, it has been and always will be safe with me. Perhaps your suffering can be eased by the fact that I'm no longer a stranger."

Her eyes turn mischievous. "Aren't you?" She meanders closer to him, draping an arm around his shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Her voice is dripping in equal parts sweetness and mockery.

"Seeing as we’re great friends, now, perhaps I should call you Shu–"

"There is certainly no need for that." He gives her a playful shove with his elbow before she can finish.

Calantha bursts out laughing at the mixture of amusement and annoyance on his face. He watches as she pushes past him, further up the hill.

He can't help but laugh with her. "I would enjoy a rematch, but if you keep on like this, I'll need another secret from you."

She turns back towards him. "You won’t get one out of me this time."

Something flickers in her gaze that sets a spark alight in his chest. Perhaps it’s the gleam of her smile, or the way her eyes shine with mirth, or memories of all they’ve done together. He feels drawn to her.

A familiar view greets them as they crest the hill. The steppe is lit in gold and pink from Reunion below, to the Dawn Throne, to the hills on the horizon.

“The perfect field for a match,” Calantha says, spreading her arms apart. “What do you say?”

He rests his arm on his sword. "We have time to spare. Do you truly wish to challenge me now? Or shall we wait until you have your armor?"

Calantha shrugs. "I can beat you without it."

"If that is the case," he says, flashing her a grin. "I'm ready if you are." He draws his sword.

—---

A few short moments later Hien finds himself with his back on the ground, his sword is just out of reach. Calantha stands over him, one foot on either side of his waist. She plants her lance into the ground an arm’s length away from his head. "See? No armor needed."

"A quicker match than our first, to be sure," he says, in a daze. "Well fought."

She grins. Her cheeks are flushed. A thin sheen of sweat shines on her forehead and chest. The wind blows her hair away from her face. A familiar sense of admiration fills him, one he'd first felt at the Naadam. He knows his heart is pounding from more than the exertion of their fight.

Calantha leans on her lance. "Are you alright?" She looks down at him with a wry smile. Despite the amusement in her voice, genuine concern shines in her eyes.

Hien laughs. "I will be fine, I assure you." He takes her offered hand and sets about dusting himself off. "Perhaps a bruise or two. Nothing more."

Calantha hands him his sword and they settle on a rocky outcrop several yalms from the edge of the overlook. When she sits, she’s close enough for her leg to press against his.

He speaks to cover the way his heart still flutters. "Are you pleased with your victory?"

She tilts her head. "I feel vindicated. Thank you."

"I would offer to spar with you more, but I must limit the number of crushing defeats I suffer in one week."

She chuckles. "Surely it wouldn’t be that bad." The wind picks up again, rustling through the low grass.

"Oh, Hien." She looks over his head. "Your hair."

"My hair?"

"One of the ties is coming undone. May I?"

Hien nods. She leans closer, arms reaching up on either side of his head.

She combs a few longer stray pieces back into place with her fingers. The way she reaches around him leaves little to look at but her lips and the graceful curve of her neck. He finds it hard not to let his eyes drift down to the pendant she wears, just above her breasts, to the way her shirt wraps across her chest. Heat rises to his cheeks.

"Hold still, I've almost got it–" She pulls everything in place. "There. It should stay now." Calantha smiles, brushing one of the many shorter loose strands behind his ear. She sits back but doesn’t look away. Her eyes have a strange softness to them. They seem to search his own, before darting to his lips, and–

Hien can’t help but kiss her.

It's quick, foolish. He doesn't entirely realize what he's done until his lips part from hers. Brief panic strikes him as he sees her eyes widen, her mouth open in a soft gasp, ready to question, or protest, or tell him he's made a mess of things.

Instead Calantha curls one arm around his shoulders, her other hand brushing his jaw. She presses her lips to his once, twice, letting both her arms drape around his neck. His hands settle around her waist. He is encompassed by her warmth and the faintly sweet herbal scent from her hair, both familiar but never this close, not until now. He thinks he could melt into her. The spark he felt earlier is so bright it threatens to set his whole heart aflame.

Calantha breaks away. She ducks her head with a shaky laugh, like pulling herself from a daydream. "I should see about my armor," she says, looking away. "Y’shtola is probably wondering what’s taking us so long. We still need to discuss tomorrow…"

His hands are still on her waist. He nods and pulls them back to his side. "Let us return, then."

The sun is sinking below the mountains now, and they head down quickly. The evening air brings a swift chill with the wind. They barely speak on the way back to Mol Iloh. Calantha avoids holding his gaze. The glances she does give bear the same softness as before, but tentative, restrained.

Hien doesn't know what will change between them. But whenever he looks at her, the flame in his chest only burns brighter.

#heart emoji prompts #hannah words #ffxiv #fic #oc: calantha lenn #calantha/hien #cala absolutely teased him with his childhood name during that part in SB and has suffered ever since :D #her secret is so silly but i haven't finished writing the fic where she tells him yet lol #also i was going to write them sparring but then i decided it's so much funnier this way

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idyllcy · 2 years

Text

Day 7 - AU

"You're getting a wife."

Komaeda pauses, staring at his caretaker. "What?"

"The Komaeda name is sought after in high society, but since you're an orphan, I'm the one that decides." The woman smiles. "I want to see you get married before I pass."

Komaeda doesn't know how to break it to her that he's been seeing someone.

"What's... their name?"

"You'll see when you meet them."

Komaeda waits apprehensively at the door as he waits for the bride to enter.

He wonders if news of his marriage had gotten to your ears, and you had rushed off in fear that you'd be replaced. He wouldn't blame you. He was nowhere near the ideal guy to date or marry. His thoughts dampen his mood, and he lifts his head as he hears footsteps.

The bride bows, and Komaeda's eyes widen at the voice.

"A pleasure to meet you, heir of the Komaeda name," You hold your position until Komaeda speaks up.

"P-please get up," He mumbles. "We have prepared a banquet for your arrival. I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you."

Komaeda pulls the doors open for both you and the escort in, and just for a moment, he wonders if you knew about this.

"Shujin," You wave for him, and he slides the door shut to sit next to you. As Komaeda finds a seat next to you, he thinks it'll be okay. Hopefully.

The banquet passes peacefully, thankfully. Komaeda's more worried about the consummation part. Maybe you'll see his body and run away. Maybe you'll take another lover because you don't think he's enough. Komaeda pauses and realizes his biggest worry would probably be an impending fear that his caretaker would watch you two consummate the marriage. He's heard stories of such from the servants. How scary.

You step into the room, staring at Komaeda.

"My parents will send a servant to check in the morning," You pause. "I... can cut if you don't want to."

"It's fine with me!" Komaeda tries explaining. "Ah, um, I was worried you wouldn't want to."

You bat your lashes at him, peeling the wedding attire off of yourself. "Um, I've never done this before, so."

"I haven't either," Komaeda helps you untie the kimono, and his breath hitches. "Did they... prep you?"

"Kind of? They put oil in me."

Komaeda pulls your kimono off and pulls his own to the side, his cock half-hard. You swallow slowly as Komaeda leans you back onto the futon, pumping himself twice before sliding himself into you slowly. Your breath hitches as he bottoms out in you, and Komaeda pauses, eyes widening at the sight of blood.

"A-are you okay?"

"I think that's supposed to happen," You mumble. "uh... something about purity."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"We're supposed to," You gasp, whimpering as you shift your hips. "Finish, right?"

"But you're bleeding," Komaeda furrows his brows.

"It's okay," You mumble. "It feels, kind of good now."

"Are you sure?" Komaeda shifts his hips slightly, breath catching in his throat.

"Yeah."

Komaeda moves slowly, unsure how to. He slides in and out of you slowly, pistoning uncertainly with you underneath him. You reach between your legs, desperate for something on your clit. Komaeda stops you before you can, his own hand replacing yours and speeding up.

"Is this g-good?"

"Yeah!" You whisper, voice breathy. "It's good."

Komaeda speeds up, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel your stomach coil. You reach for his chest, and Komaeda interlaces his fingers with yours, pushing your hand to the side, feeling him come close too. You cum first, crying as you cum on him, making a mess on the sheets. Komaeda cums next, spilling into you with a low grunt. He stays there for the moment, and you feel him soften inside of you.

Komaeda finally pulls out once he catches his breath.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles, reaching for a towel. "I made a mess."

"I'm the one who made the mess," You take the towel from him, wiping yourself down. "That was good."

"Really?"

"Yes," You exhale, settling yourself into the futon, holding the blanket up for Komaeda. "What's for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Whatever you want," Komaeda slips in next to you.

"That's good," Your eyes close, and Komaeda's shoulders relax once in the futon. "Good night..." you whisper.

"Good night," Komaeda whispers back.

#komaedareaderweeknsfw2022 #komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito komaeda x reader #☾.nsfw

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silver138 · 2 months

Text

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 10

word count - 866

warnings - none

Summary: Lina's made it to the end of her first week of work.

Friday morning arrives, overcast and a little cold. Stretching, I turn off my alarm and get out of bed. Yawning, I take my shower and get ready for work, thankful that I've figured out a quicker way of doing my hair. Leaving Val a note telling her to have fun this weekend, I finish getting dressed.

In what feels like no time at all, I'm walking briskly down the sidewalk to get to the station quickly. Making it with several minutes to spare until the Metro is due to arrive, I sit back and take a deep breath, then reach into my purse to grab my book.

After reading about a chapter, the Metro pulls in, and I put my book away and stand up, waiting till the vehicle comes to a stop. Stepping on, I scan the nearby rows, looking for Spencer.

Finding where he is, I make my way over, sitting in a seat near him. "Hey, Doc. How're you this morning?" I ask, turning sideways to face him.

He gives me a shy smile, saying, "Oh, I'm good. Here's your coffee." and hands me a medium-sized cup.

"Ah, so nice and warm, thank you, Spence," I say, giving him a soft smile.

I take a sip, and remembering our plans for tomorrow, I give a small hum and ask him, "Oh, um, where would you want to go tomorrow? We could go to a Starbucks. I know there's, like, a million of them, but there's one right across the street from my stop, so we wouldn't have to go too far."

"I'm only suggesting that one because I know we both know where my stop is, but if you wanted to go to a Starbucks closer to you, or a different one altogether, we could," I say quickly. I look at Spencer as he takes a drink of his coffee, a slightly amused look on his face.

I start to babble again. "Or-or we could go to a different coffee shop if you want. I don't really have a preference. If-if you still wanted to, that is.."

His eyes widen and he rushes to say, "Y-yeah! I still want to. I'm just...I don't want to make any plans too solid, you know?"

Feeling a bit crestfallen, I just murmur an, "Oh, okay..." while nodding dumbly and looking down. Noticing my demeanor, he quickly continues.

"N-no, it's just that we could get called in for a case at any time. It's happened before. On my last birthday, we got called in, just as we were about to have the cake. So, um, th-that's why. B-but, if we do get called in, we can always h-hang out after we get back. If-if you'd like." he finishes, blushing slightly.

I look at him, a small smile blooming on my face and I nod in understanding. "Yeah. Yeah, I would like that, Spencer." I say quietly, taking a small sip of my coffee. He gives me a shy smile and looks out the window, then signals for the Metro to stop for us to make our exit.

As we walk and sip our coffees, we talk and laugh about what we expect to happen tonight. "So, what questions should I be expecting from our colleagues tonight, Doc?" I ask Spencer.

He groans and replies with, "Oh, if you can think of it, they'll probably ask."

He gives me an apologetic look and continues. "I, uh, hope you don't mind your personal life being put under a microscope."

I snort and say, "They're gonna be inspecting a blank slide."

He raises his eyebrows and asks, "Oh? How so?"

I chuckle lightly and say, "Before starting on Monday, the only people I would spend time with on even a semi-regular basis were my classmates, my professors, my roommate, and her boyfriend. I'm...kinda hoping working here gives me more people to be friends with. Like, actual friends, not just, like, co-worker friends, you know?"

He nods slowly, and I continue. "I mean, I've got hope. Everyone's been really nice, and I get along ridiculously well with you and Penny. I haven't interacted much with anyone else yet, but I'm sure that'll change as time goes on."

Spencer chuckles and says, "Well, you've got Morgan wracking his brain for a nickname you'll like, so that's a good sign. The only other people he's given nicknames to are me and Garcia, so take what you will from that."

Walking into the building, we take the elevator up to the offices. As we head into the bullpen, we're greeted by Derek, who says, "Hey, you two. Another coffee run, huh?"

"Before you start," Spencer says, digging into his satchel and pulling a bag out, tossing it to Derek. "I got you something, so I don't want to hear it today, got it, Morgan?" he finishes with a smile.

Derek catches it and looks inside, then breaks out into a million-watt grin and says, "Thanks, man!"

Spencer smiles, then turns to me and asks, "I'll see you for lunch, right?"

I smile and reply with, "Yeah, of course. I'll see you then, Spence." Then turn and make my way to Penny and the computers.

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Story Masterlist

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x ofc #spencer reid x original female character

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lisutarid-a · 10 months

Text

[Gakuen K] Yatogami Kuroh Route Translation

Buying a new swimsuit

LIST OF CHAPTERS

[Translation under the cut]

Neko: Uuuuh…It's hot, it's hot, it's hot!

Neko: Gohan! Wagahai melts! I want to go indoors!

Saya: Don't give up, hold on until the department store.

Kuroh: If you don't like the heat that much, you should have waited in the dorm.

Neko: I don't like the heat, but I went because Shiro said he would!

Neko: Besides, I'm going to ask Kurosuke to give me ice cream as punishment for taking Wagahai along!

Kuroh: …Go home.

Neko: I'm not going home! Not until I eat ice cream!

Kuroh: …Shiro, do something about her.

Shiro: Mmmm…?

Saya: Shiro-kun, you don't look good, are you all right?

Shiro: Ahaha, I'm all right. I just was affected by the heat.

Shiro: Really, this summer is too hot.

Saya: Both Neko-chan and Shiro-kun look like they are having a hard time…

Kuroh: That's because they're not training their bodies. It's pathetic.

Neko: Whoo-ah! Gohan, it's cool here! Wagahai is back to life!

Saya: What a relief. You almost collapsed.

Neko: Uhhh, Wagahai doesn't want to leave this building. I want to stay here until the end of summer.

Shiro: Ahaha. If you stay that long, the store staff will get in trouble.

Saya: There are so many different designs of men's swimsuits.

Saya: Kuro-kun, did you find anything good?

Kuroh: Yeah, it was on the saleroom over there.

Saya: Over there…Loincloth section?

Shiro: Kuro-o. Stay away from the loincloth and forget about it once and for all. You'll ruin the whole point of coming here to buy a swimsuit.

Kuroh: Sorry. It's just that I'm familiar with it.

Saya: Aside from the loincloth, was there any swimsuit that you would say "This is it!"

Kuroh: Something like "This is it"…That's bad, I have no idea…

Kuroh: Sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to pick the right one for me.

Saya: That's why we came here. It's all right.

Saya: Shiro-kun, Neko-chan, let's pick…Huh, where's Neko-chan?

Shiro: She's sleeping in the health equipment section over there.

Saya: Really, she's sleeping peacefully…It would be a pity to wake her up, let's choose between the two of us.

Shiro: Uhm, I agree!

Neko: Ice, Ice, Ice cream!

Neko: Wagahai likes Shiro~ Vanilla is the same color as Shiro~ Wagahai loves vanilla~

Saya: Good thing we found an ice cream shop. Neko seems to be in good mood.

Shiro: The sun has set, and it's gotten a little cooler. I wish it were like this during the day.

Kuroh: I heard it's going to be even warmer tomorrow than today.

Shiro: Eeeh~ Is that so? I want to stay in an air-conditioned room all the time…

Saya: I agree. It'll be hard if it gets warmer than today.

Kuroh: …Sorry you had to go through that for me in this heat.

Saya: No, it's okay. Don't worry, it was fun to go out like this. And I got to choose the swimsuit!

Shiro: Right-right. It's summer, and there's nothing we can do about the heat!

Kuroh: …No, let me thank you again. I appreciate you taking the time to help me with my swimsuit today.

Saya: (Kuro-kun…)

Kuroh: I'm sorry that not only did you have to pick it out, but you even paid for it.

Saya: It's a present from us. Because you are always taking care of us.

Shiro: I'm sure we'll cause you a lot of trouble in the future, but please take care of us.

Kuroh: Yeah…Leave it to me. I'll take care of --.

Neko: Shiro-o! I bought ice cream! Waaah…!

Saya: Ah…

Saya: Neko-chan's ice cream is on Kuro-kun's clothes…

Neko: …That's bad.

Kuroh: Neko…

Neko: Ahaha~…Farewell!

Kuroh: I won't forgive you! And you won't escape!

Saya: These two are so energetic…

Shiro: I think we should just go home leisurely.

Saya: Umh, you're right.

[Prev chapter][Next chapter]

#k project #gakuen k #gakuen k wonderful school days #otome translation #yatogami kuroh #isana yashiro #neko

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contest-winning-pest · 8 months

Text

For Want Of A Maylene (What Once Was Wrong)

"Another? -- Candice. That's fifteen already before this new kid. You can't--"

"What else am I supposed to do?" Candice said.

The vibes in the Champion's Villa off to the east of Snowpoint sank another few degrees. "What should you do? You know what you should do, Candice! Hire people! Get someone in to help them, not just physically, but mentally! And this one's an orphan!"

"No! No, it's fine. I'll just... I just need to give it my all and it'll--"

"Thought and Emotions-- It's ripping you up. It's been ripping you up for months. And now you have to take in this new kid-- what was her name?"

"-- Kerry. Her name is Kerry. We found her halfway to freezing to death in the snow."

"Have you asked anyone for help yet?"

"... Not yet."

"Candice!"

"-- I know! .... And she said she can't travel across the mountain yet. I figured, I'd help her get stronger."

"Or! Orrrrrrr." Maylene leaned over the table. "You can take her on a boat trip, and me and Crasher Wake can take care of her until you've hired on some people and gotten proper care together!"

"... You're right. I know you're right. Why can't I make myself see it?"

"It's fine. That's why we're a League, not A bunch of Gym Leaders. I have a few people in the Heya, and Crasher's famous for having a lot of good staff. I'll help Kerry, and we can ask around for volunteers. Okay?"

"... Yeah. Yeah! Why am I half-assing being a Gym Leader!?"

"Eh?"

"Though-- I'll need to start finding proper staff, and you're right we need to investigate the Lakefront, but..."

"-- Either way," Maylene said, "Let's get it done tomorrow."

~ ~ ~

"Hey, Kerry?" Candice called, into the dorm room. The curtains were open, but Kerry herself lay curled up on the bed, still around Li. "You have a visitor."

"What for?" She said, forlornly.

"I... Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Maylene, of Veilstone."

"-- The sumotori!?"

"Ah--- haha, yes, though that's... not really my career..."

~ ~ ~

"Hey!" Meylene scooted one of her bowls across the table to Kerry. "Eat up, we got a lot to do today."

"I already ate, though...?" Kerry said, staring at the bowl.

"Yeah, and we're going to be working hard today, too, to help ourselves and our Pokemon get stronger! That means you need energy. Which means you need food."

"Grandpa said to never have a second bowl and to always feed your Pokemon first."

"Nnn. Well, he's not wrong, but that's no excuse to neglect your own health! We have plenty for everyone!"

~ ~ ~

".... What's up? This wasn't the first sparring session where it felt like you were..."

"It's exhausting, okay? I... I've been training but there's just so much Aura around me it's--"

"Oh, you use Aura?" Maylene paused. "Let me have you and Li talk with my Lucario a bit..."

~ ~ ~

"Doing better, I see."

"Yeah! Thanks so much for showing me that. I just wish Grandpa were here."

"Your grandfather? What was he like?"

"Well. I mean-- OK. So, when I was a little younger, Grandpa started teaching me survival, and then, when I'd done that, he'd take me out to orienteer and leave me out in the woods around Acuity for a long time. One time, when this was taking me--"

"Wait, back up. Your grandfather abandoned you in the woods?"

"He knew I'd be okay!"

"He abandoned you! In the woods! That's not an okay thing to do to a child!"

"wh-- no, that's normal, that's not the point of the story--"

~ ~ ~

"So you're gonna be my exchange penpal?"

"Yeah! I really hope you keep in touch with all your friends in Veilstone. And learn to surf!"

"Haha, I'd love to do that, actually," Kerry responded, shaking the Hoenni girl's hands warmly. A slight warmth spread through her.

~ ~ ~

"I've been having more nightmares. I think it's related to Mt. Chimney."

"... Hm. I'll talk with Flannery and Liza and Tate. See what they have to say about it."

~ ~ ~

"Well, now. Yes, you will do quite nicely. As I'm sure you're already aware, given your stamps and badges, you'll need to hone those psychic abilities so that they don't drown out what you're hoping for. I can help with that. But I think we won't have as much time as you hope. Strange things are alreqady happening. I'll join you on your journey across Hoenn, but for now, let's get you a Starter and get you going."

"Are you sure? I mean. There's so much I have yet to learn--"

"No, I'm sure. You'll be perfect. Seeing it in person is a fantastic way to understand the world arond you.

"... And I really can come back at any time?"

"Always," Brawly said.

".... Then I'll go with you."

~ ~ ~

"Senri! I--"

"Oh! You're that gym trainer from Dewford, right? You're just in time. This boy wants to go out and catch his first Pokemon, but I don't have time between taking a challenge and--"

"Kerry!?"

"Satoshi!?"

"What are you doing here!?"

Wally cleared his throat.

"Ah-- yeah, of course I'll go help, if you'll loan us a Pokemon..."

#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #pokemon fanfiction #Event: For Want Of A Maylene #muse mixup madness

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werewolfoverlord12 · 1 year

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Rippling Reflections Supplement 2: Dangers in Plain Sight

Urabrask awoke for the sixth night in a row, dripping in a cold sweat and feeling as something was watching him.

The warm form beside him moved and Amelia placed her hand on his arm, "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Same thing as last night... dread and like eyes are on me," he placed his head in his hands, "I have to present our findings about the augementations tomorrow to the United Kingdoms of Dominaria... I need sleep."

Amelia sat up as he got out of bed, "Where are you going?"

"Lab 1. I can ignore those voices and eyes just fine," he leaned in and kissed her, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "You're not going alone. I know Watcher added a new room for us to stay in today; maybe it'll be safer there?"

"You don't think it's Watcher that's causing this, do you?"

"No," Amelia said, "I've felt those eyes too. It's not Watcher and besides, Watcher likes you; these eyes hate you."

Lab 1's door slide open with a familiar hiss, and immediately the four praetor's minds attacked him; snarling, he felt the Glimmering Oil in his body surge and the room was filled with golden light for a brief moment. The Praetor's retreated rapidly, as if burned.

A second door that hadn't been there three days earlier slide open on the wall entering the lab. Inside was almost perfect recreation of their bedroom, including the scent diffuser in the shape of a...

"What did you call that? The cutesy version of something?"

"Chibi," Amelia said, "it's big on Kamigawa right now."

... a 'chibi' version of him.

"Did you move that in here?"

"Yes," she said, "I had a thought this might happen, but i also didn't want you anywhere near them," she gestured over her shoulder at the Four Fallen Praetors, 'if we could help it."

"Right..." Urabrask yawned, and stretched, when two icy hands found there way onto his exposed back, "YAAAH. Grrrr AMY!"

Amelia grinned, "Sorry. But when you yawn your nightshirt lifts up and since i can't get your stomach, i went for the next best thing."

"The next best thing would be a little lower, dear," he said, smirking, "but either way, a warning would be nice."

"Probably, but doesn't mean you're going to get it," Amy said.

After getting into bed, Urabrask lay on his side facing the door, while Amelia lay just behind him, arm around his waist, face buried between his shoulder blades. When not in use, the spines laid down flush with his skin.

He fell asleep almost immediately, but Amelia waited until he was snoring softly before creeping out of the room and returning to their old one. Turning on the lights, she scanned the room,

"Watcher?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Watcher."

"Sorry... Yes, Amy?"

"Can you scan the room again, please? I know we did earlier but he still had those nightmares."

"Oh course," Watcher replied, "I've added additional search parameters. I assume you'll be searching as well like last time?"

"Makes both our jobs easier if we do."

Twenty or so minutes later, Watcher cleared it's throat, "Amy?"

She glanced up at the ceiling from her position on the floor, looking under the bed, "Yes?"

"Mantle piece."

"... ah... okay..." She got up and walked over to their fireplace, where an assortment of items were stored or displayed.

One was part of Vorinclex's faceplate, cleaned and sealed against contamination; but it was the object beside it that Amelia examined.

Rona's left eye from an earlier encounter Amelia had had with her.

"Is it still active?"

"Yes," Watcher said, "and the signal is coming from Dominaria."

Amelia picked it up and stared into it, "I wonder if she can feel pain..."

She morphed her hand into it's crystal form, "Watcher? A containment bucket please?"

"Of course."

A large, orange crystal bucket appeared on the floor; Amelia bent down, held the eye in her crystal hand and squeezed until it popped. The stench of Glistening Oil struck her nose which reacted like the rest of her; shifting to her Crystal form. She shook off what she could and burned off the rest as Watcher sealed the bucket and transferred it to the Quarantine Labs, where their study of Phyrexian mutations and how to reverse them continued.

"I think we'll keep sleeping in the new room," Amelia said, glancing around her, "just in case."

"Understood. Fortunately, it was sealed as well so nothing else was contaminated."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Any time. Would you like me to put on the sound dampers as you head into the room?"

Amelia smiled, "Yes, please. Thank you again Watcher."

#Urabrask #Fractured Pride #OCs #magic the gathering

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humanoidalien27 · 1 year

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Content warning: the use of the torture curse, talking about past trauma and evil intentions.

.....

Chapter 8

Animagus

Changing was painful and you absolutely hated it. You hadn't even attempted to get up, not that Ominis didn't scoop you up despite trying to scratch him.

"She's lively," Sebastian teased, getting you to grumble, which came out a growl instead.

"You were exhausted the first time you changed too," Felix reminded, before his eyes looked at you. "Unfortunately, out of all of our animagi forms, yours is the easiest to sneak inside the castle."

You huffed as Sebastian tried to scratch your head, so you hissed, getting a chuckle from Ominis.

"That's unfair, why can't I pet you? You let Ominis hold you."

The words were thick with jealousy, getting Ominis and Felix to look at him. "I'm not answering that AGAIN," Ominis replied.

"Alright, you can change back." Felix mentioned, so Ominis put you back down on the floor.

You almost screamed as you shifted back, remaining face first on the floor for a second.

"How are you doing?" Sebastian asked.

"Everything hurts," you admitted, seeing his hand move in your field of view, so you took it. "Come on, up you go."

He pulled you up to your feet, though you still felt very wobbly and leaned on the wall beside Ominis to remain upright.

"So, you'll sneak in and get to a professor you trust. I'll fly around to keep an eye on you, while Ominis and Sebastian wait in the forest for a signal."

"My animagus form can sneak in too. I'm cute and adorable," Sebastian said, getting everyone to share the same dubious expression. "Hey, it is cute. Ask anyone. Besides, it's better than if he followed her in."

"Ominis's animagi form speaks to his personality. A loner with an empathic side and strong ties to those he cares for. Leave him alone."

That was obviously not the reaction he wanted, but Felix cut over his remark. "Alright, you'll head in, while they wait outside in the forest line."

You nodded, though you weren't ready to go anywhere at the moment.

"Does it have to keep hurting?"

Ominis pulled you to lean against him as Felix moved close to check your eyes.

"You've finished the transformation, so it should be easier next time." He looked at Sebastian and Ominis. "We'll head out tomorrow, for now, we should get some rest."

In your animagus form, you trotted towards the school grounds rather quickly, hearing Felix flying high above you and knowing Ominis and Sebastian weren't too far.

The last voice you wanted to hear as you crossed the gates was Draken's.

"Neither of them have shown up for school?"

Professor Black scoffed. "No, neither, but what does this have to do with those pages? If anyone finds out about them-"

"No one will have that chance. Knowing that Sallow boy and Felix, they'd already showed them both, which means they need to die too. It's the only way."

Panic set in as you tried to remain still, but Draken took notice of you.

"Why are there cats everywhere around here? This is a school, not a petting zoo." He pulled his want out. "Crui-"

Professor Black caught his arm. "If a student should happen to see you doing that, there will be more to explain than three dead kids."

You raced towards the doors, slipping inside as one of the students opened the door.

An explosion of noise hit like a freight train as you headed further into the building, having to wait for students to open the doors.

At least until you spotted Poppy, Natty and Garreth heading in the direction you needed.

"It's strange to think Sebastian kidnapped them," Poppy whispered as you approached. "You don't think he's going to hurt them, do you?"

"Maybe we should try to find them?" Natty offered as you passed them as Garreth opened the door.

"I'd like to say no, but a lot can change in a few months."

You made it to the room of requirement, and transformed back, effectively scaring Desk, who had been tending to the beasts.

"Ah, you're back. We've been very worried about you."

You moved over to him, the serious expression making the smile he gave you fade slowly.

"Can you bring professor Weasley here, without alerting anyone else?"

"Uh, yes," he said before he disapparated.

You glanced around, remembering times where things made sense, or at least more than they did now.

"Oh, thank you Deek," professor Weasley said, drawing your eyes as she looked at you. "You're alright!"

"For now at least. I have some news professor and it's not good."

She nodded as she motioned for you to sit at one of your tables.

Taking a breath, you sat down, with her taking the other.

"What's this all about? And how are you being kidnapped by Mr. Sallow fit into it?"

"It all started when Ominis and I went on the training tour of Azkaban. Draken brought us by Sebastian's cell. He said there was something going on and innocent people were dying."

"In Azkaban?"

You nodded as you pulled the documents from your bag. "It is all true. They've been locking up citizens who haven't done anything wrong and making sure the dementors kill them if anyone goes to investigate their cases."

She took the pages and started to look through them. "But why?"

"The goblin rebellion was started by the Ministry to hide their dirty secrets. They poked at an old wound they knew would rile them up. Rookwood, Harlow, Ranrok, were all funded by Ministry shareholders or secret bank accounts and then all they had to do was wait for wounds to rip open and chaos to ensue. Half the aurors are dark wizards and witches freely using the unforgivable curses. Heck, Draken almost used one on me as I tried coming into Hogwarts."

Her eyes locked with yours. "He tried to use it on a student?"

"Well, I didn't exactly look like a student at the time," you admitted, not that it made it any better.

"Sebastian killed his uncle, that's why he was sent to Azkaban."

You nodded and turned the pages to the marked page and pointed at it.

She sighed and read it, her face becoming more stern by the second.

"Solomon was working with Rookwood. He planned to kill me and Sebastian in that crypt, so Sebastian was only defending himself. They didn't even give him a real trial to hide their crimes."

"This certainly changes things," she said, moving to read the rest. "So, the Minister, nearly all the aurors and the headmaster? Oh, dear me."

You pulled out the long strip of paper that was written in the Minister's handwriting. "This has all the names of people imprisoned or dead that were in fact innocent of the crimes laid against them, I know, I already double checked. Some died due to the dementors kiss. Others were killed with the killing curse BY an auror. The reports are in that stack of paper."

She sighed and looked to you. "Did you give Sebastian your wand to escape Azkaban? And then help him obtain these from the Ministry?"

You hesitated, but nodded. "I did professor."

"Well, just like a Gryffindor to do something they believe is foolish." She chuckled, though it didn't last long. "I'm assuming Mr. Sallow and Mr. Gaunt aren't far away?"

"No, but with the Ministry hunting us-"

She shook her head. "I don't want you coming to Hogwarts for the time being. Best keep this quiet until we can get a better understanding of the situation. Sneak back out of the castle and send me a letter of where you're staying. I'll meet you there with a few trusted allies. Maybe we can sort this out once and for all."

"I hope you won't take offense if I don't give you our location directly. We'll meet in Feldcroft in two days. Solomon's house would probably still have something of value in it."

She nodded and patted your shoulder. "I suspect this isn't going to end well, but do try to keep yourselves safe."

She moved out of the room, so you stowed the papers back into your bag, before shifting into your animagus form.

Deek kindly opened the door for you. Giving him a grateful nod as you passed, you headed down the corridor.

There were so many cats in Hogwarts, that you were practically invisible.

At least until you made it outside, and pain exploded in your side as you sailed through the air and landed on the ground roughly.

"I've been around Hogwarts enough, but I've never seen a cat like you before." You looked back at Draken, who raised his wand. "Cruico!"

Unimaginable pain exploded throughout your body. Even when Sebastian used the curse on you, it didn't hurt this bad.

"Hold on!" Sebastian's voice said, though it sounded like he was underwater.

Barely opening your eyes, you saw Sebastian's silver fox form and Ominis's black leopard form attacking Draken.

Your vision blurred, before focusing again.

Sebastian dangled from Draken's wand arm, the wand now snapped in two, hanging on only by the core as Ominis had his thigh on the opposite side.

This time when things blurred they didn't clear and darkness began to close in on the corners.

Once they managed to get him to the ground and he didn't move to get up, they came over to you, before Sebastian scooped your body up with his teeth.

"Careful!" Ominis hissed when you let out a small involuntary painful meow. "Hold on until the tree line, okay? Don't shift."

"How dare you attack innocent animals!" Poppy's voice snapped, before you heard her racing after your group.

Sebastian set you down once they thought they were deep enough into the forest.

You were barely holding onto consciousness and as if sensing they were waiting, you fell asleep and shifted back.

Sebastian was the first to revert back, his hands checking to see if you were still breathing as Ominis's leopard form rounded on Poppy.

"Sebastian? What are you doing here? Where's the cat? Are they okay?"

She jumped when Ominis shifted. "That was her animagus form. That jerk cast the torture curse on her after kicking her twenty feet."

Sebastian looked back. "I think she has a broken rib. We can't heal her until she wakes up."

Poppy startled when the crow swooped down and turned into Felix.

"The aurors are on alert after you attacked Draken," he said peeking around Sebastian to see your unconscious form. "What happened?"

"Draken crucio-ed her," Sebastian hissed, glaring back at the castle. "So, we attacked him."

Ominis shook his head. "It was more on instinct. I heard the spell, but Sebastian was off before that, probably when he kicked her."

"What's going on?" Poppy asked, staring between them.

"We can't really explain right now," Ominis said, looking back towards the castle. "We need to go before we're seen."

Felix nodded. "Yes, especially now that they have kill on sight orders for all of us." Everyone stiffened and looked to him. "I over heard it as I followed her over the grounds."

"Wait, what's going on?" Poppy asked, but the answer never came because Felix apperated them away.

"Did you find those animals?" One of the aurors asked, moving into the clearing with their wand out.

"No, sir. The must have ran too far into the forest."

......

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themaresnest-dumblr · 2 years

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Raiders Of The Lost Island Consignment Shop - Part 91

PART NINETY TWO TO FOLLOW!

#raiders of the lost island consignment shop #sims 3 #sims 3 stories #picaroon island #kirry scary fruitcake #voirrey dalby #siminthesun #Jaden Thorn #xxmaddi #kiki264 #rainie sulsulrain #and introducing ...#ah you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out about HER!

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

What's One More?

WC: 3204

Rated: M

Tags: brief mentions of crime/mental illness/child abuse and neglect/substance addiction/theft, fluff, family dynamics, mentions of aging, mentions of difficult pregnancy, softness, anxiety attack

🧠

The harsh vibrating of a phone on the nightstand breaks your slumber. Still half asleep you toss your arm back to thump against your sleeping husband's side. With a groan he answers. You try to settle back into your pillow and the warmth of the blanket. Whoever has the balls to call at this hour has another thing coming - but later because your priority is going back to sleep.

He can't have been on the call more than fifteen seconds before he sits up in bed suddenly, turning on the bedside lamp; his movements grab your attention. You roll over. The light blinds you and you rub at your eyes to adjust. You can't make out what's being said. Looking at the clock to see that it's barely 4 am you know something bad has happened. Quietly you slip out from the covers.

Making your way down the hall you peek into your daughter's room, grateful that she's still fast asleep. Her soft snores punctuate the calm. Your nerves abate knowing she’s safe. By the time you get back to the bedroom Laszlo is up and getting dressed. "What's going on?"

He doesn't answer at first. You wait until he's finished buttoning his shirt to ask again. "Sara was called to consult on a triple homicide case - she's asked for me to come down to the police station. I don't know much yet, but it's something involving a young boy and she wants me to speak with him."

“Did he…?”

“No. He was not directly involved, that much we know.”

You nod, leaning against the door frame. This wasn't the first time that Laszlo had been called in by law enforcement and social services to assist with children and teens that needed psychological help. He had become more active around the time you graduated with your doctorate. After Sophia was born Laszlo helped fund an after school program for kids that focused on support for mental health and behavioral issues. He was so passionate about being able to help these kids. But it was never at this ungodly hour. "You'll call or something when you know what's up?" you ask through a yawn.

"Of course, Bärchen." He gives you a chaste peck. Gently he guides you back towards your bed and sits you down. "Go back to sleep, there's no need to worry. I love you." With that he left.

Your sleep is fitful with him gone. You worry over things that you aren't even aware of, over who is hurt, over how severe a situation it could be to have been called in the middle of the night, over the poor boy that needs Laszlo’s help. When your daughter tiptoes into the room around 6 you welcome her into the bed with open arms.

"Why are you up, baby bug?"

"Where's Papa?" She climbs up on his side of the bed and rubs his cold pillow. On her face is a deep frown.

"He had to go help some very important people early this morning. He'll be back to see you soon, I promise."

"I miss him. He always helps me with my shoes."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face. "I know, baby. But it's still early so let's take a nap before we have to get ready, hmm?" The two of you snuggle under the covers. With her curled into your side you do find rest, even for the short time before your alarm chimes.

The day moves sluggish as you wait for word from your husband. Little work was to be done today at the museum, so there wasn't much to keep your mind off the wondering. You considered calling. You considered texting. But you knew that when the time was right he would let you know. No news is good news, you think.

Finally the day came to a close. You picked up Sophia and stopped by the store on the way home to grab supplies for dinner. She insisted that she carry one of the bags inside - little miss independent that she was. “Careful not to drop it, okay? Use those muscles of yours to hold the bag tight.”

“Mama I know, I help Papa carry all the time,” she explains matter-of-factly.

The townhouse is quiet as you begin to unpack. You do a quick glance into the dining room and parlor to no avail. "Laz, honey? You home?" A few seconds later you hear movement from the stairs.

Your husband rounds the corner into the kitchen, swooping down to scoop your daughter into his left arm, peppering her face in exaggerated smooches. Her giggles light up the room from the dim atmosphere. He perches her on his hip. “How was your day my little dove?”

“So good Papa - I practiced my counting today at school. I can get the biggest in the class! Mommy said I must be the most smartest," she prattles on.

“Wunderbar!” he praises her before turning to you. “I didn't hear you come in." Laszlo kisses you.

Pinning him with a look you say "you also didn't call me today? You said you would and I've been worried all day."

Sophia crosses her arms and harrumphs from her father's hip; "me too Papa." He quirks an eyebrow at her before speaking.

"Yes… there is something I wished to speak with you on but didn't think it was suitable for the phone." You raise your own brows but continue to put away groceries. "I do not wish to discuss certain aspects of the case in present company-" he nods towards Sophia minutely "-but we do have a houseguest for the foreseeable future."

"Oh?" Your brows dip in confusion. This is not what you were expecting.

Laszlo peeks around the doorway and calls out "Stevie, would you come join us in the kitchen please."

Stevie? You don't know a Stevie...

A moment later a lanky boy with scruffy dark blond hair shuffles into the room. He can't be anymore than 15. His clothes are too big on him and his shoes are worn beyond belief; nevertheless he gives you a slight smile. “This is Stevie Taggert, he’s going to be staying here with us in the guest room for now.”

“Good evening Mrs. Kreizler,” the boy says nervously, his voice cracking.

You spare a look at your husband before turning to the teenager with a smile. “Ah, no need for that, kid. You can just call me by my name instead. And welcome to our home. You like spaghetti?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Awesome! And I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am,” you give him a wink. You set up a pot to boil the water for the pasta. Laszlo excused himself to spend some time with Sophia, leaving you and Stevie in the kitchen.

He clears his throat behind you. “Would um… is there anything I can do to help?”

"I would love that, thank you."

The two of you get to work on making dinner. Stevie doesn’t say too much, but he is very polite and does his best to be useful. Once the food is nearly finished your family has returned ready to eat. You send Stevie and Sophia to set the table.

“Should I be worried?” you ask Laszlo quietly, watching the doorway the two left through.

“I don’t think so. I just felt that I would rather he have a familiar face to adjust with instead of being placed in a group home like many end up.”

You study his face. “You’ve taken a liking to him haven’t you?”

“Well…" his face reddens at your question. "He reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age.” The conversation is cut short by the kids returning.

The rest of dinner and the evening goes smoothly. You make it a point to not bring up any questions that could trigger the teenager, especially before you’ve spoken with Laszlo about the situation at hand. When Stevie nearly eats his weight in pasta you say nothing, wondering how long it's been since he's had a good home cooked meal. He insists on helping clean up the dishes afterwards. Without even knowing what the boy has gone through your heart aches for him.

You set him up in the small renovated basement downstairs while Laszlo puts Sophia to bed. Handing him one of your husband’s old Harvard t-shirts to sleep in you tell him “I’m sorry you’ll be down here by yourself, but if you need us for anything don’t be afraid to come get us - no matter what time it is, okay? And if you get cold there’s an extra blanket right here for you. I know it's July but….” you shrug. “Tomorrow after I get home from work we can go to the store and get you some stuff to use, some more clothes, that kinda thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” At the teasing look you give him his ears burn red with his mumbled “right sorry.”

“Alright Stevie. We’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Laszlo is in bed reading when you enter the room. Nothing is said as you ready yourself for bed. Slipping under the covers you face him. He sighs and closes his book.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I became caught up in the day and only arrived home with Stevie maybe half an hour before you did.” He sighs a second time. “Most of the case I cannot talk about, but what I can say is he was living with his mentally ill father, whom was also an addict. He missed the last few weeks of the school year and has been regularly stealing food to get by. He has no other family. I just… it didn’t feel right to let him process his experiences away from someone properly trained to deal with these sorts of things, in addition to how traumatic entering foster care at his age can be. I spoke with those in social services and was granted temporary custody until we find another more permanent solution.”

“Of course.”

He takes hold of your hand. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“I mean it would’ve been nice to have a bit more warning… but I get it. He can stay as long as he needs to. He’s a sweet kid,” you reassure him. “I told him that I would take him shopping after work tomorrow, so if you could pick up Soph from preschool that would be great.”

“Perhaps instead we can all go? I was thinking that I would bring him to the university with me so that he’s not alone all day. You could get her and then we could meet somewhere, get dinner afterwards?”

You lean closer to him to curl around his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. He always thought so much about others, especially children. Laszlo had such a heart of gold and it honestly left you in awe of just how much he was willing to give so that others could find peace and happiness. Like the older he got the more he had to give. The thought warms you. “How are you literally the best person I know? And to think you used to be so worried about being able to be a good father and now you’re the best of all of us.” He huffs a little as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I have you to thank for that, Bärchen.” He drops a kiss to your head. “But it’s getting late and I’ve been up all day. We should get some sleep.”

Soon after you're both dreaming.

___

Stevie had been with you for three weeks. It only took him a few days to start to settle in, and you discovered that he was quick with his wit and far smarter than he let on. He was a little bit of a sarcastic smart-ass at times, but all in good nature. He was endlessly entertaining. Laszlo sat down with him almost everyday to talk about what he was feeling, the things he experienced, and ways to deal with the loss of his family. Already you both saw improvement.

Even Sophia got on well with him. Most teenage boys wanted nothing to do with little kids, let alone a 4 year old that loved playing 'spaceship barbie'. But not Stevie. On his fifth day you'd found him sat on the floor playing with her and going along with her childlike imagination. When she insisted he play the barbie that needed saving he went along with it, high pitched voice and everything. He even encouraged her to pick up her toys before bed - a feat you and your husband struggled with at times. It struck you how much Stevie became a big brother of sorts to her.

Laszlo grew even more fond of the boy. He wasn't really one for TV, but every evening he sat and watched some show on Netflix about racing with the teen and didn't complain once. Laszlo had tried to explain the role of adrenaline in racing drivers as a psychological function, but Stevie just brushed it off and said it was the driving so fast that made it "cool".

The two did bond over an unlikely subject - punk rock. When you got home from work two weeks into his stay and heard the music blasting in the parlor you worried someone had broken in. Whipping into the room you saw Laszlo in his chair tapping his foot to the intense guitar and singing; Stevie nodded along to the music as he held an old album cover. It didn't take long for Sophia to start jumping along to the music too.

"What is this?" You yelled out over the bass - you couldn't recognize it and it clearly wasn't English.

"Die Toten Hosen, a band I listened to growing up in Germany. Stevie found the record and asked to listen."

"Listen? I think you mean blow out your eardrums!" Even with needing to shout to be heard you had to laugh at the situation. How your husband had a secret love for German punk you'll never know; yet you would never let him live it down.

And when Stevie came and woke you both up in tears three nights ago you made him hot chocolate while Laszlo sat down with him. He confessed that he had never been treated or cared for like he was in your home. How he wished he could stay because he felt wanted. Your heart broke for the boy. To be so young and so lost, craving someone to simply be there for him.

Yet everyday he grew more open. He broke out of his shell. He had goals and ambitions; he wanted to amount to something bigger than he had thought he ever could. It almost shocked you at how much fire was within him.

At how much he fit in with your little family.

At how it was like he was meant to be there.

___

Laszlo was oddly quiet when you got home. Sophia had run off to find Stevie, and you tracked your husband down to his office. He listened as you talked about your day for a good ten minutes; he said almost nothing the whole conversation.

You move closer to him. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead you check to see if he's feverish or sick. He didn't feel warm. "Laz, are you feeling okay?"

He gently pulls your hand down and leaves a kiss on your palm. "The department of social services called this morning to inquire about what we want to do with Stevie. This would be the third time they have asked."

He hadn't mentioned it to you at all that they were calling already. "Okay. What do you think we should do?" You pause for him to continue.

"I told them I would need to speak with you before any further decisions were made regarding him…" His fingers tap against the wood of his desk. "I'm not sure I have an answer for them. Nor for you." He swallows. "I'm afraid of what might become of him should he go into the system. Or that he will not get the support he needs given his past. Any option involving allowing him to stay for a bit longer is a commitment I won't make without your full support, of course. I could never ask that of you." As he speaks you can hear the frustration pouring from him, feel the irritation radiating through the room. "I refuse to give up on him- I- I just don't have the answers on what to do without them hounding me and he deserves better than this, dammit."

"He does… Do you remember on your 50th birthday, what you told me?" Laszlo looks up at you confused. "You said that you had wished you were ten years younger so you had the energy and time to do all of it again. That if you were younger we would've had a whole gaggle of kids - brothers and sisters for Sophia."

"Wishing I was younger doesn't make a difference in helping Stevie-"

"Laszlo - let's adopt him." Your words stop him in his tracks. You had decided not to have any more after your daughter was born. Laszlo was nearing 50 and the pregnancy had been hard on you. But regardless you knew that you both had the means and the love to give another child, probably five or ten more children if you really wanted to. So why not start with one that's already wormed his way in to the family? "I've seen how fond you are of him already. You've taken him under your wing as if he was your own. And how good he is with Sophia? Hell I couldn't ask for a better older sibling for her - and she loves him already. And honestly, Laz, I do too."

"You think we should adopt Stevie?"

"I think we should ask, yeah. He deserves a good home and a strong father figure that's going to put him first. He looks at you like you hung the stars, Laszlo. He needs us, and truthfully I think we need him. So yeah - what's one more added to this little shindig we've got going for us?"

"Have you-"

"-thought it through? Yes. Completely."

You can see the smile he fights to hold back. "We should call tomorrow and see what the protocol is for stating our intent to adopt and getting the paperwork."

"Um…" You shuffle your feet. Nose scrunched, you confess "I may have already called them. On the way from work I asked about what would need to be done if we wanted to pursue that route, but since they already know who we are from you working with them for years it can be fast tracked." You pull him out of his chair to stand before you. "All we have to do is say 'go'."

He has no hesitation.

"Go."

Laszlo doesn't hold back his smile or his laughter as he spins you around his office floor. You're certain your children downstairs can hear your giggles.

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 6

The eve of race day. You had woken up early as planned. Zemo would be here soon to pick you up. You had packed a little case for the weekend, but you had spent the entire in nervous excitement.

You would be staying with Zemo. At his place. Just the two of you.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Zemo: I'm outside.

You grab your bag and head outside, locking up behind you. Not at all surprised to find another car of his waiting for you. He was leaning against the hood of the car.

You smile as you approach him.

"Miss me?" You asked, teasing him.

"Every day since I left."

You laugh softly, but you could tell he meant his reply. Your poor heart was going crazy.

Zemo takes your bag and puts it safely in the car. You climb in while he does. Once he's in, you settle for the long drive down to the track. The radio plays quietly in the background.

"You can sleep if you like, I promise there won't be any speed racing along the way," he chuckles.

You smile as you get as comfortable as you can in a car. "I think I'll do that, an hour or so."

You're didn't even make an hour before you woke up, but a lot of distance had been covered. Zemo smiles at you as you shift in your seat, waking up fully.

"Coffee?"

You glance down to see two take out cups, steam still rising from them, slotted between you in cup holders. You smile as you take one.

"Thanks. You stopped for coffee?"

"The least I could do for coming to get you so early," he smiles sweetly. "I can pull over at the next stop if you're hungry, but we won't be on the road for too much longer now."

"I'll wait then. Thanks." You open the cup and inhale that delicious scent. A beautiful way to wake up.

Conversation is kept causal for the rest if the trip. Soon Zemo pulls up at a nice house. He wasn't kidding when he said it was bigger than your little apartment.

You climb out of the car and look up at it.

"This is nice."

"Thank you. It's just one of my houses." He comes to stand beside you. You eye him in slight suspicion.

"One of your houses? How many houses do you have?"

"Several. Most of them in Europe."

You continue to look at him with suspicion.

"I figured you had money because of all the cars, but I'm thinking there's more to it than that."

He gives a cheeky grin as he walks up to the front door.

"Perhaps."

Who is this man?

You follow him to the door and then enter as he opens it for you. The inside is super nice. Doesn't exactly looked lived in, but you can tell it's his place.

"Now this suits you," you say, looking around the room.

"Does it? You fit in quite nicely too."

You smile as you make yourself comfortable. Zemo drops your bag by the door and comes over to sit with you.

"I have something I want to ask you. I don't need an answer right away, but I want to ask you now."

"Why is it?" You turn tour body so you're giving him your full attention.

"I have been debating this for days, but what you say if I asked you to work for me?"

Your gaze flickers between his eyes, your brain trying to catch up with what he just said. Work for him? Like... work for him? What would you even do?

"You do realise I'm no mechanic. I make coffee for a living."

"I'm aware."

"What can I possibly do for you?"

"Assist me? Manage me?" He sat their smirking at you.

"Manage you? I don't know what in doing most of the time, and you want me to manage you? Don't you have a manager?"

"Myself."

"You can do that?"

"I can," he chuckles. "If you worked with me, you could be at every race. I would get to see you every day."

"You are honest to God serious?"

"I am."

You gaze down at your lap in thought. He was actually offering you a job. You would have so much to look up before hand, but what if you took it?

You look up to see him looking at you.

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask for," he says, smiling. He gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you breakfast.

You're already pulling out your phone, researching what you may need to help him.

It would be pretty cool to tell people you were the manager of Helmut Zemo. Certainly more exciting than the barista who makes nice coffee.

You eat, Zemo shows you the room he had made up for you, and then you both head out to see the car. You spend all day watching him go up and down the airstrip, beating his own record.

He was ready for tomorrow.

Race day. You're both up early. Zemo talks you through the day and what he has prepared for you. You're on the list for his crew, so you'll have access to the areas he team do. You still get to watch from his stand.

Of course, you arrived together. He parks up and you walk into the stadium. You're keeping your eye out. Zemo knows what for.

It's not until you're outside waiting for Zemo to change when you see them. Stark has arrived, in his gear, your friend under his arm as they wave at the crowds. All cameras on them.

He did it. He made it public.

Your friend was smiling away and waving at people, kissing his jaw and placing her hand on his chest.

Despite the display, it didn't seem real to you. She couldn't see it, but you could.

A hand is placed in your shoulder. You look up to see Zemo standing beside you. His eyes are on you, but you know he saw them.

"She may not forgive me, but I will not forgive him for breaking her heart when the time comes."

Zemo says nothing and nods once.

You turn your eyes away from the 'happy couple' and look at the car. It looked all shiny and new.

"You've got this today," you say, turning to smile at him.

"I know," he replies with a cocky smile.

You find yourself teaching for his hand and smiling softly at him. His fingers curl around yours.

"I'll be right here when you cross that finish line," you tell him.

"And then drinks."

"Ah yes, our date. How can I forget?"

"I have one more request before I go out there."

"Oh?"

Zemo brings you entwined hands to his lips and kisses yours softly.

"Call me Helmut. I want to hear you say my name at least once."

You smile.

"Alright. Then, this is for you, Helmut." You lean in and press a firm kiss to his cheek, caressing the other one with your free hand.

He smiles.

The way you say his name sets alight all those feelings be bad been trying to contain.

You pull away.

"You better go."

You can hear the racers being called to the starting line. He squeezes your hand and reluctantly lets go. You pick up his helmet and give it to him. Once it's on, he climbs into the car and you watch as he follows the other drivers. You quickly climb over the barricade to the stands and watch from up there, wanting to see his car for as long as you could.

You hadn't noticed the way your friend had been looking at you from across the way.

You stand on edge. You had this really good gut feeling in your stomach. Something was telling you this was going to be the day.

The lights change. The engines rev. You close your eyes to listen to the sound. It's the greatest sound in the world. The flag waves, tyres spin. They're off.

You don't even realise you're holding your breath.

The cars are out of sight so quickly, you then your gaze to the screen. Right there in front of you is Stark and Zemo.

They move in perfect sync around the track, not once colliding with the other. It's almost as if they're playing a careful game. Your poor lip will be so sore from your nervous nibbles.

Stark takes the lead for quite some time, but Zemo is right there behind him.

"Please. Please." You're whispering to yourself. You have fingers crossed, you're unable to stand still as you watch, you're pleading with whoever is listening.

The last leg of the race is approaching.

The standard across from you cheer loudly. That's Stark's lot.

You're beginning to doubt that feeling you had.

It all happens so quickly.

Just as you blink, that purple beauty of a car pulls ahead. It's as if it had been saving it's energy for the last hurdle. You gasp sharply as he pulls so far ahead, even Stark is confused. You're not sure if you dreamt it or it as that car speeds across the finish line.

You can't contain how happy you are. You run from the stands, jump the barricade and run as fast as your feet will take you. By the time you get down to the arena, all cars have crossed the line. No casualties on this day.

Zemo is out of his car, helmet taken from him by one of the others. He sees you coming and opens his arms. You're off your feet as soon as your arms around him. He's laughing in your ear.

"You did it! You did it!" You're laughing, smiling, cheering.

He puts you down, but he doesn't let go. You hold onto him tightly. People gather to take photos or to try and interview him, but neither of you care.

You pull back enough to look at him.

He kisses you.

Right there in front of everyone. Cameras are flashing, people are shouting his name.

No one else matters.

You smile against his lips.

You only let go when you have to. He gets taken off for his award, but you're not far behind. You're so proud of him.

Stark looks at him from the second place podium. Your friend on the other side from where you stand.

She doesn't look happy.

Once the formalities are over, Zemo returns to you and puts his arm around your shoudler. You're both smiling like fools as you walk back.

He beat Stark. He did it.

And he kissed you!

You're over the moon. This could honestly be pinned as the best day of your life.

It's not until you're out of sight from the press when he pins you up against the wall and claims your lips again. You melt against him, letting him kiss you over and over.

Neither of you were even bothered about the race anymore. He just wanted you.

You part, but only slightly.

"Zemo-"

"No."

"Helmut," you chuckle, "I'm accepting the job offer."

"That didn't take much convincing," he teases.

You roll your eyes and pull him back to you, kissing him again.

Meanwhile, in Stark's locker, your friend was going crazy. She was looking at her phone which was blowing up with images of you and Zemo kissing.

Today was suppose to be the day she could proudly go public about her and Stark, but even that had been stolen from them.

Tony looked at her from across the room.

"Let me tell you something interesting," he said, not all sounding affected by his loss today.

She goes over to hear what he has to say.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #AU #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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sirenascales · 3 years

Text

-> double black [part three] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A man is murdered and things get interesting as the investigation starts. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,981 words

note: no smut in this one hehe, but things are gonna get fun. enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

"Hey... are you okay?" Kenji asked me a few days later, noticing the scowl on my face and realizing that I had been tapping my nail on my desk repeatedly for the last fifteen minutes. "You seem... pissed?"

I grunted, closing my eyes and slowly taking a deep breath. "I'm okay, Kenji. Just having a bad day." The others shared looks with each other, but chose not to pry. The frown on my face never left, my fists clenched as my blood continued to boil.

Then that all went away, when I felt a gentle hand against the back of my neck. I looked over at Dazai, who had lazily rolled himself in his chair over to me. He grinned. "I could see the steam coming from your ears!"

His hand never left my neck, moving until his fingers loosely wrapped around the column of my throat. Strangely enough, my anger had completely gone away when he touched me, and it felt nice to finally breathe. "With the day I'm having..." I sighed, the whole world seemingly melting away, Dazai's thumb stroking along my jaw.

Kunikida was clearly unimpressed, the man gritting his teeth. Atsushi looked shocked, his face tinged red while Ranpo and Kenji just touched their own necks gently.

"Does she like to get choked?"

"Who knows, man."

"Hey, I know what will make you feel better," Dazai suggested and I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue. He leaned in and would have kissed me if it weren't for a book smacking right into the side of Dazai's head.

"Do that on your own time! We have a schedule!" Kunikida fumed while I quickly turned around to cover my face, simply to muffle down my obnoxious laughter.

"Oh, dude!"

"Kunikida! What was that for!"

"Public indecency!"

Dazai rubbed his head, whining from the pain while I just giggled behind my hands. Dazai almost looked betrayed at me laughing at him and I just shrugged my shoulders. "Hey, that's what you get for trying to play grab ass."

I purposely ignored Dazai's pouty face for the rest of the day, the man clearly upset that he didn't get to kiss me. I shook my head, glaring at him from across the office while threateningly pointing my pen at him.

"Work, dammit."

"I don't wanna! Bella, don't be so mean!"

I fixed him another glare before going back to my work, finishing up the final report for the last case we were on. After going through and making sure it was perfect, I saved and emailed it to the President, just as the door to the office slammed opened.

"He's gone!"

"Keiko?! What the he- Keiko, what's wrong?"

I stood up from my desk, my best friend standing before me in a frazzled state. She looked extremely distressed, tears falling down her face. I rushed to her, the woman collapsing into my arms as we both fell to our knees.

"He's gone!" she exclaimed before she started to sob into my chest. "He's gone! He's gone! He's gone!"

"Keiko..." I looked up at the others with wide eyes, them looking on with alarm. I turned back to Keiko, rubbing on her back as she continued to sob.

Taichi was killed. He was found in an alleyway with multiple stab wounds. Keiko had received a call from the police after his identity was discovered, the detectives revealing the tragic news to her.

"I'm so sorry, Keiko..." I said to her softly, sitting with her in one of the small areas of the office, separated by simple dividers. "... how the hell did this happen? We just saw him last night when he dropped you off at my place..."

Keiko had finished crying, but the terrible sadness in her eyes was a clear indication of how devastated she was. I clenched my fists, feeling my anger from earlier building up again.

"I'm going to have to make my statement," Keiko said softly, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do you want me to go with you to the station?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No... it's okay..."

"The thing is, you are also one of the last people to see him alive," Kunikida spoke up, standing by with Dazai and Atsushi. "You'll have to give your account too..."

Sighing deeply, I absentmindedly reached under my skirt, pausing when I didn't feel my knife against my thigh where it usually was. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head to myself before I went back to rubbing on Keiko's back in an attempt to comfort her.

Soon, Keiko and I left the Agency and headed on over to the police station. We gave our accounts of the night before when we last saw Taichi, us talking separately with a different agent.

"Now you know, Mr. Kamiya was in the Port Mafia," the agent said and I nodded. "And they have quite a bit of history with your little organization."

I didn't like the condescending tone in his voice, but I kept my cool. "Of course, but none of us have anything to do with this man's murder, and you have no evidence proving otherwise."

He just rolled his eyes at me. "Well, this is all we need. You're free to go."

I nodded before quietly making my way out of the interview room. I met with Keiko, who looked like she had been crying again and I pulled her into a comforting hug. "It's okay. This will be over soon."

Later on, I found myself back at the Agency, Keiko choosing to go home, despite my protests. My head was buried in my arms, not moving as I felt someone put their hand on my head, lightly scratching my scalp.

"Looks like the police will keep on investigating Taichi's murder," Dazai said and I peeked one eye out to find him leaning against my desk. "Thing is, I'm sure the Port Mafia will also be conducting their own investigation. Ohh, this is gonna get interesting~"

"So is it better if we stay out of this, then?" I asked, sitting up in my chair. "I mean, unless we're asked... we don't have to touch this."

Dazai regarded me for a moment, a mysterious smile growing on his face before he just threw his hands up nonchalantly. "I get it, you were friends with the guy."

"Not really," I corrected him immediately. "Keiko is my friend."

"Ohhhhh," Dazai just hummed, tapping his forefinger on his chin. "Well anywho, the police are gonna have their hands full if the Port Mafia really gets involved! It wouldn't hurt to help, right?"

I hesitated, a small smile soon growing on my face as I nodded. "Sure. Let's start tomorrow."

"How about tonight instead?!" Dazai asked with a cheerful smile while I just glared at him angrily, the two of us now standing in the middle of the crime scene.

"Why do I even bother believing a word you say?" I hissed at him, attempting to kick the man but he quickly side stepped me. I gritted my teeth. "Ugh, plus it's already dark, Dazai. It's gonna be harder to find any evidence." Indeed, the only light we were getting was from the full moon up ahead, and the shitty lights above the side door of one of the buildings. "Are we even allowed to be here?"

Dazai simply nodded his head. "Of course, we were assigned to this case, afterall."

"... you told me the police were keeping it," I said, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. Was he serious?!

Dazai just smiled and threw his hands up. "Guess I was mistaken," he hummed and I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples.

"Okay so... what now?" I asked, finally looking around the crime scene. It was obviously taped off and Taichi's body was removed. All there was left was a giant stain of blood, which I now looked at with a worried face.

"Just by the nature of the crime alone, we can easily say it was a crime of passion. If this was a local gang or rival, he would have been shot, or even jumped and beaten to death. Official word is, he was stabbed over sixty times," Dazai explained, standing beside me and staring at the blood. "There is no sign of the murder weapon, no other physical evidence besides Taichi's dead body and blood. We'll have to wait for forensics to give us their final word, but I can tell... this might not be so easy to crack."

I nodded solemnly, my fists clenched tightly.

"Or... will it?"

I took in a deep breath before turning and sending Dazai a sheepish smile. "Well, we got our work cut out for us, huh."

Dazai chuckled softly. "Yeah, but that's what makes it fun."

"So Dazai," I started, crossing my arms over my chest. "I have a question."

"I may have an answer."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

Silence followed after my question and I turned to look at the man. His hands were in his pockets, a weird smile on his face. "I have. Quite a few."

For some reason, the answer didn't shock me as much as it probably should. "How do you sleep at night?"

More silence, before Dazai stood before me. I looked up at him, heart thudding when I saw that same dim look in his eyes. His lips curled up and he leaned in, making me hold my breath as he whispered.

"Like a baby."

My breath hitched in my throat, eyes going wide. I licked my lips nervously, nodding my head slowly. "I see..." Just... wow.

"You know, I could have gone without seeing your ugly face, Dazai."

A look of distaste grew on Dazai's face as the newcomer came sauntering up to us. He wore black, a familiar hat resting upon a familiar head of red hair. Blue eyes stared daggers into my coworker, mouth curled into a displeased snarl.

"Ah, Chuuya! It is a small world, after all," Dazai sang, the glare in his eyes not meeting the jovial tone of his voice.

Chuuya scoffed. "I thought you'd be fucking dead by now, but of course, you always love to piss me off."

"'Cause it's so much fun!"

The two men clearly didn't like each other, but that was the least of my concerns. All I could do was stare at Chuuya in shock. Of course, Taichi was one of his subordinates, he would want to find out who his killer was and get retribution. That was just how the Port Mafia worked.

I gulped, carefully trying to back away from the two. They could stand there and bicker with each other all they want. I had to get out of here before-

"Oh wait, meet my new friend!" Dazai wrapped his arm around my neck, wrestling me to his side effortlessly as I tried to break free. He knew I was trying to escape and made sure that didn't happen.

"Hey, let me go!" I hissed, not pleased with being pulled into a damn chokehold.

"Not until you meet my old friend!"

Chuuya growled. "We're not friends, damn traitor!"

Traitor? I grew confused, eyebrows pinched even as I fought against Dazai's hold. Chuuya narrowed his eyes when he finally got a good look at me.

"Hey... do I know you?"

Crap. "Uh..." I laughed sheepishly, Dazai now confused as he looked back and forth between the two of us.

"You know each other?"

"W-well..."

"We met a few months ago," Chuuya spoke up, his eyes widening in realization before his eyes narrowed and he snarled. "Knew you couldn't be trusted."

"Wait!" I exclaimed, making it out of Dazai's hold and holding my hands up to Chuuya. "I swear... I didn't even know about the ADA when we met. It was just as I said that night, I lost my job and was there to drink my pain away."

"Tch," Chuuya sounded, his eyes still narrowed. "And now you work with this traitorous bastard. Lucky you."

There was that word again.

"What do you mean by traitor?" I asked, at the same time Dazai spoke up.

"How the hell do you two know each other?"

Chuuya scoffed. "I fucked her."

I squeaked, Dazai's eyebrows raising.

"Interesting. I'm fucking her too."

I squeaked again, waving my hands wildly before either man could respond. "D-don't we have a murder to solve, huh?!"

It fell on deaf ears, the two men staring each other down, all before their eyes were on me and my trembling form.

"You know... I feel like we've been here before, Chuuya."

Said man snorted. "When you fucked my girls?"

"Like you haven't fucked mine?"

Okay, now I was confused. "Um... I don't understand..."

"Oh yeah!" Dazai exclaimed a bit too cheerfully, putting a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, earning a withering glare. "Chuuya and I go way back. Were the best of friends."

"No we weren't."

"We were partners! The best there was!"

"... tch."

Partners? What the hell did Dazai mean by partners? I looked between the two men, lips formed in a thin line. Then, the answer struck and my mouth fell open in shock. There was no fucking way... Dazai? I swallowed thickly, shaking my head for this was not the time or place to be thinking about this.

"Okay... I can only imagine just how deep this shit goes," I started, the men looking at me curiously. "But we have a murder to solve. Whatever... this," I gestured my hand between the two of them. "Is... it can wait. Y'all can make out or whatever later."

That was my attempt at breaking whatever tension there was, but I was the only one cackling when Dazai and Chuuya immediately protested.

"I will kill you!"

"That is not funny, bella!"

"Ugggh, I don't have the time for this. I should have known that the ADA would be investigating this, and that just pisses me off. You two should just stay out of my way," Chuuya said, hands in his coat pocket. "Though you... word is that you were one of the lasts who saw Taichi alive."

My heart dropped when Chuuya looked at me and I frowned. "And I told the police that I saw him when he dropped Keiko off at my apartment. There are cameras in the lobby that will show that I never left the apartment. We even ordered food in."

"Fuck. And there is no other evidence right now. No weapon, no hints of DNA. It's like the killer just vanished," Chuuya said to himself and I glanced at Dazai, seeing the amused look on his face.

"What if it was an ability user?" Dazai suggested. Chuuya gritted his teeth.

"Shut up! I don't need your help!"

"Really? Are you sure?" Dazai taunted the red head, quickly ducking when Chuuya swung his foot in a wide kick. Dazai didn't get hit, but the wall behind him took the damage, large cracks forming on the surface. I swallowed thickly. Just how strong was Chuuya?

"H-hey," I started nervously, foolishly getting between the two men before they could start a fight. "We're after the same goal, right? Why don't we just... work together?" The fierce glares I got made me shrink. "O-o-or! Or not! That's fine! Just don't fight!"

"Bella is right... fighting is so beneath me," Dazai said wistfully and I sighed deeply.

"Dazai, I'm being serious. This man was my best friend's boyfriend. I want to find his killer too."

"Just stay out of it," Chuuya growled. "This has nothing to do with either of you. The Port Mafia will handle this."

"Let's make it a race then." Both Chuuya and I were dumbfounded as we looked at Dazai, waiting for him to continue. "A competition to see who figures this out, the ADA or the Port Mafia."

"Dazai... what the hell?" I asked in disbelief, Chuuya stepped closer to him.

"What's the prize?"

Dazai smirked, raising a bandaged hand and pointing right to me. "Our bella."

My jaw dropped. "You're fucking kidding me?"

"No," Dazai answered rather seriously. "I'm not."

Chuuya is strangely quiet, his unreadable eyes now trained on me. I fidgeted under his gaze, looking away to find Dazai staring at me all the same. I shivered. I hated this; hated being part of such a stupid competition as a prize, and I hated that I fucking loved it. I screwed my eyes shut.

"Deal," Chuuya finally said and I gasped when I felt his familiar leather clad fingers cup my face, him moving my head to make me look at him. "Gotta say, I didn't expect to see you again, but I'm glad our paths have crossed a second time." I became extremely flustered and Chuuya smirked. "Tell me, Dazai. What was it like having my sloppy seconds?"

I gasped sharply with Dazai only laughing darkly, suddenly feeling his presence behind me. "Can't say it was too bad..." he answered and I just completely clocked out, breath hitching as I felt a bit embarrassed. And turned on. They knew exactly what to say to get me riled up.

"Okay, I'm leaving! It's late and I still haven't eaten dinner yet! Bye!" I was frantic trying to rush away from them as fast as I could. I didn't even turn back when Dazai called after me.

"See you tomorrow, bella!" Dazai chuckled softly, watching me disappear, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"A race? Really?" Chuuya asked incredulously, eyes piercing as he stared at his old partner.

"It will just make this all the more fun," Dazai hummed.

"You're a bastard," Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just stay out of my way. Taichi getting himself killed just ruined the investigation we had on him."

"Oh?" Dazai raised his eyebrows, amused. "Was he being a naughty boy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Dazai."

-End

I have this headcanon that Dazai and Chuuya definitely stole each other's girls and even shared them and had threesomes when they were partners and ya'll CANNOT tell me otherwise.

#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd smut #this case isnt gonna get too insane bc i just write a detailed investigation lmfao #im trying ok this is just lots of smut with a lil plot to make it juicy #anyway I hope you enjoy lol

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idyllcy · 2 years

Text

bet that you'll let me down by double

Word Count: 5.2k || Inspiration: Pic 1 ; Pic 2

Warnings: Hanahaki, Star tears

Summary: Where the vocalist nearly loses their voice and the pianist his sight

Art school is not for everyone.

Komaeda realizes that upon entering Hope's Peak, the music school is filled to the brim with talent and non-talent alike. Some pay and make donations to get in, while others are just talented; Very few attend the school on pure talent. Komaeda actually struggles to find someone who hasn't paid or made a donation to get in. Komaeda can't really call them awful when he also paid to get in. Though, he actually only paid because he wanted to meet someone. There was a rumor about a lyre player, something relatively rare nowadays.

He finds the lyre player sitting near the cracked and damaged statue of Orpheus. You resemble the man, sitting there with your lyre in your arms, stringing along mindless notes and melodies. Your body is lax against the statue, almost as if you were imitating the prince himself. The wind blows against Komaeda's face, and he stares at you, and how the sun seemed to kiss your skin despite the clouds being out. It was like a renaissance painting, the way everything was set up. Your eyes meet his briefly.

But with the next gust of wind, you're gone before his eyes.

There isn't much news about you around the school. The rich mingle with the rich; a handful adopt talented ones, whom they call friends. In reality, they're no better than a human pet. Komaeda finds it sickening, yet he can't help but think that it is one way to secure a musician to keep at home. Musicians aren't rare, but talented ones are. Komaeda stares across the dining hall at the other groups, and Hinata calls his name.

"Komaeda."

"Ah, yes?" He glances at the male.

"Did you find them?"

"I did," He hums, cutting into his steak. "But, they don't seem to be around?"

"Try the vocal department," Chiaki's fingers fly across her keyboard, staring at her game. "I've talked to them once. They have a very well kept voice."

"Like a classical singer?"

"Opera, perhaps," She hums. "The condition of their hands doesn't matter when it comes to being a vocalist. Something about... 413?"

"What an unlucky room." Kamukura finally speaks up. "To be linked with the number of death."

"It's just a practice room," Hinata grumbles. "It doesn't mean anything."

Komaeda finds you in the room while you're on break. A delicate knock at the door greets you, and you open it slightly to peer up at your guest. You're met with a cloud of white hair and curious green eyes. It's not that late, but the sun glares against his back, causing him to look darker than he was. The two of you stare at each other in silence before Komaeda speaks up.

"Ah, I do apologize for intruding at such a time," Komaeda starts. "You see, I was just curious about the lyre player I met the other day, and someone suggested I come here. I guess they were right, because you're here. Ah, right. I wanted to ask you, would you be willing to sing for me? I can pay. I just wanted to see what talent everyone else was talking about. You see, it's really hopeful that-"

You blink at him as he rambles. He's one of the students who had paid to get in. Komaeda. Something Komaeda. You heard about the boy; and how despite being an orphan, he still managed to pick up piano and violin and a whole array of instruments. How his music made no sense yet was still considered art. You wonder why he had to pay to get in if he was a musical talent.

"Ah... sorry," He apologizes. "I'm rambling. So? The answer is?"

You stare up at him and pull your phone from your skirt pocket. The sound of your keyboard fills the silence. "How much?"

"Any price you want."

"Why can't you just wait until a student talent show?"

"You participate in those?"

You nod.

"Say... why don't you speak?"

"Why should I? I work it hard enough by singing already."

"Instead of a show, can I watch you warm up?"

You stare at him.

"5AM tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

Komaeda gets the door slammed into his face, and he blinks. He has insomnia, which is literally perfect because he could just wander the school until you made it there. He wonders which dorm you're staying in. Maybe you would be in one of the moon dorms. The school tended to favor musicians in a moon dorm and creators in a sun dorm. He rocks on his feet as he waits for you to exit the room.

You leave the room, and you stare at the male. You tilt your head.

"Ah, I wanted to walk you to your dorm," He smiles sheepishly. "You know the recent serial crimes on campus?"

You stare up at him and nod.

"So... which dorm?"

You point at the sky and then at the constellation.

"Ah, Taurus?" He smiles. "That's my star sign."

You tilt your head again, almost as if you were telling him that it was interesting.

"Shall I tell you about the stars?"

You pull out your phone again, and the sound of your keyboard bounces off the empty halls.

"No need. What instrument did you end up here for?"

"Ah, I play both piano and violin. They're letting me dual major."

"Anything else?"

"You're a vocal major?"

You nod.

"Ah, then do you play the lyre for fun?"

You nod again.

"Right," He hums. "What's your range? How many octaves? Are you a soprano? A tenor?"

You click on your phone and shove it into his face.

It's a recording of you.

Komaeda takes the phone from your hand, clicking it open. You stand in the studio, mouth open, notes flying out. You can hit an F6. You're well within coloratura range, if not even higher from the way your voice keeps going up. Komaeda is enthralled. Your voice is incredible. You have such an impressive range, and as Komaeda stops in his steps to listen to your voice lower and lower until he can feel the vibrations through his chest, he's gone. It's elysian. Would that even begin to describe it? Oh, Komaeda swore that he could never worship a voice that wasn't yours.

You pause to stare at him, and your eyes blow wide in worry when he starts crying.

"?!" Your hands reach his face, and you start brushing his tears away.

"Sorry," He grabs your wrist gently and sets it down next to him. "Your voice is incredible. It's opulent. It's ethereal. I can't even put it into words!!"

Your eyes widen in surprise as Komaeda clasps both of your hands.

"Oh, please let me be your accompanist! I'll do anything for it! I'll even pay you-"

You stop him and nod. You can't reach for your phone, so you speak up. "I'll send you the scales for warmups. Don't be late."

Your voice. Oh. Even your voice! Komaeda's so drunk on the way your voice comes out that he forgets to pull out his phone for a moment.

"...Komaeda?"

"A-Ah, I'm sorry!" He hands you his phone, eyes wide with admiration. "You have a nice voice."

You sound heavenly calling his name like that.

Only as you pull away does Komaeda notice that the two of you have arrived at the dorms. He stares at you enter the building; and then he leaves to head to his own room. His is a constellation dorm. One that's actually named and has a story. As he steps into his room, he's met with Hinata and Chiaki curled up on the couch, playing Mario kart.

"Welcome back," Hinata mumbles, fingers busy with trying to overtake the ultimate gamer. "Did you find them?"

Komaeda doesn't answer and heads to his room instead. He stares at the clock on the wall, and he closes his eyes. The sound of your voice fills his head, and he falls asleep. He wonders what your nighttime routine is.

You stare at the next song you've been assigned for class, and you grimace. Something gentle. It's love-related, again. You don't question it, and you grimace instead. It gave the vibes of a love you couldn't hold. Something unreachable. Someone who struggled with loving themselves. You understand, yet you don't. It's hard to sort out emotions when you don't feel them. You laugh. Your sister would laugh at you for something so trivial. You press the keys on the piano, mapping out the melody. It would be a final project, you suppose.

The next morning, you unlock room 413, and as you're about to close it behind you, Komaeda reaches you.

"Sorry," He pants. "I woke up a little late. I was excited to be your accompanist today."

You nod, and you let him into the room before locking it behind you.

"Is it a habit?"

You nod. You reach for the small whiteboard on your desk, and you glance at him.

"Did you practice the scales?"

Komaeda shakes his head. "Sight-reading. Shall we start?"

His fingers glide on the keys as you warm up your voice. To him, you were like the moon. Or... the sun perhaps? The way your voice lit up the room, welcoming the new day. Komaeda watches the sunrise through the window when he's finished with the scales. You resembled him, the ancient god of music that the Greeks adored. The sun kisses your face, and you turn to stare at Komaeda.

"Hm?" You smile at him. "Did you practice the piece?"

"I read over it this morning," Komaeda chuckles. "It was the reason I was late."

"Ah," You smile. "I see."

"You're talking now?"

"After warming up my voice," You smile. "I talk for a little in the morning. When I wear out from speaking, I have to rest my voice."

"Why so?"

"If I don't," You stare at the clock on the wall. "Then I will talk too much."

Komaeda's eyes widen as you finish packing. "Too much?"

You throw your bookbag over your shoulder and open the door. Komaeda rushes after you with his bookbag and chuckles. "You like talking?"

"Yes," Komaeda hears the way your voice shifts to air, and he smiles.

"Then I look forward to our conversations."

"As well as I," You separate from him to your first class, while he meets up with his classmates.

Komaeda finds that you do like talking. During the times when you're not busy preparing for your song, the two of you hang out at the town's cafe. The school was built in the mountains purely for musical purposes. Komaeda watches you shine with the sun as it rises out of the mountains. The glow embraces you, covering you in an untouchable veil. Yet, as you hold your hand out to him in the morning, Komaeda is able to touch the light, even if it burns him for a moment.

To you, Komaeda resembles a moon. His hair is fluffy like clouds, and the way his eyes are a bright green almost resembles a clean pasture. One where the moon kisses the morning dew goodbye and the tired trees goodnight. When the two of you finish practice for the evening, Komaeda stares at you, the moon shining above his head. Just as you bring in a new day, he welcomes the evening. You reach for him, even if it costs you a bite from the cold, because the sun adores the moon and never stopped chasing after it.

It comes as a flower field first.

"Did you know? My mom used to grow these when I was younger," Komaeda stares at the plant. "They're a symbol of hope apparently."

Then, it comes as an itch in the back of your throat.

You unscrew your thermos, and finish the rest of your water.

"Are you alright? Should we stop today?" Komaeda glances at your empty thermos. "Your throat sounds scratchy."

"It's fine," You swallow. "I'm going to refill this. I'll be back."

You walk to the fountain slowly. There isn't anything that slows you down, yet the itch in your throat feels foreign. It doesn't feel like a cold or a scratchy throat. It's almost as if something were alive back there. You pause that train of thought. What the hell could live in your throat? You pause to stare at the flowers on campus and turn to head to face the fountain. An uneasy feeling bubbles in the back of your mind.

The rest of practice flows as normal.

You sit to the side as Komaeda practices his piano piece before the two of you lock the room. The same feeling from before claws at you. You feel something crawl up your throat, and you burst into a coughing fit. Komaeda pauses in his playing to rush over to you, and you spit something out from your mouth.

"Are those... flower seeds?"

"What the fuck?" You stare at the seeds in your hand.

"Should we take you to the nurse? I can pack our stuff up quickly-"

As Komaeda turns around to pack your things, you pull something from your tongue. A petal. A gladiolus petal. It's the same stupid flower that Komaeda told you his mom grew. You stare at the petal, and then grimace at yourself. How pathetic.

"I'm fine," You mince the petal with your fingers and head to your bag. "Keep practicing. I'll just retire early for tonight. I have a second key in my dorm. Be sure to lock up properly."

"Are you sure?" Komaeda glances at you as he catches the keys.

"Yes," You swallow again. "I'll text you tomorrow. This shouldn't be something that bad."

It's better the next day. If anything, the coughing and scratching stops for three days completely. You don't think of it as much until the next time you're coughing your lungs out again. The scratches feel worse than before. Yet, this time, it's still only petals. Four petals come out of your mouth each time you cough. You call off practice with Komaeda for a week until your throat returns to normal. It's some weird mood swing your throat keeps hissing out.

"Are you alright? Are you sure we can have practice today?" Komaeda frets.

"Yes," You finish the water. "I promise."

Your voice is a little raspy from the coughing, but you manage to finish practicing with him. You sit down to review your piece, while Komaeda practices his. The sound of keys flutters through the room, and you grimace at your song. You're throwing up literal flowers for someone yet you still can't convey what the song means. It's ironic. You stare at the lyrics. It's hard to digest. It's as if your mind refuses to listen to the words. You want to sing it. But your mind won't accept it. You don't want to be someone who loves like that.

You frown at your music while Komaeda dances with his. His allegros prance around the room, pulled along by eight notes and sixteenth notes. His legatos pull your heart along slowly, swinging you gently in his arms, spinning you around in his arms. He tugs at your heartstrings, and you give them to him. Even if the familiar crawling in the back of your throat returns, you don't stop listening. His music brings you life, as yours brings him peace.

The moon eats away at the sun slowly. The petals start out small. They don't bother you that much at first. Then, they grow. Slowly. You hate it. It's disgusting. Your voice grows more ragged with each day. You can still sing, it's just your voice doesn't seem to come out properly. Some days the petals are extra bad. Other days they're more mellow, and they don't sting as much. The doctor tells you you have six months to live unless you decide to get the surgery.

You don't want it.

An artist's life is tied to their heart. The mere fact that your emotions could be destroyed forever because of a surgery was horrifying. You would rather die with lungs filled with flowers than a heart devoid of emotion. Music is dead without a heart to pull along. You stare at Komaeda, and you feel your lungs compress. Ah. Another coughing fit.

Komaeda rushes over to you, leaving his papers a mess near the piano. It hurts worse this time. But the second Komaeda raises his voice to call a friend, your hand meets his phone.

"I'm fine," Your voice is hoarse. "This year's fall cold is just affecting me extra bad."

Komaeda doesn't believe you, but the way your eyes plead him to drop it makes him hang up. He grimaces, and instead, he ends practice for the day. The two of you pack up, and he walks you back to your dorm.

You stare up at the moon. "Whatever causes night in our souls will leave behind stars." you whisper.

"The stars love the moon," Komaeda smiles. "But the moon loves the sun, just as the sun chases the moon for eternity."

You close your eyes as your hand wraps around the handle.

"But the sun turns colder with each cycle," You mumble. "And one day, it will inevitably burn out while chasing the moon."

You call off practice for three weeks, unable to sing for a week, and then recover the next two. Komaeda drops by your dorm's drop-off box, leaving you notes from class and herbal tea. He wishes you a speedy recovery. Your lungs tighten with each letter he sends, and although you don't throw up any more petals, your lungs still burn. It hurts. Loving someone who doesn't love you hurts. It burns the back of your throat. You contemplate dropping out completely. You can't do that. You need to graduate.

You return to practice three weeks later with an even bigger thermos and a scarf around your neck. Komaeda worries that you aren't fully recovered, but anymore delay would mean that you couldn't nail the entire song into your mind. You need a pianist to bring it to life for you.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," You cough lightly. "Let's start."

The song, Komaeda realizes, is cruel. Unrequited love is cruel. But even as he hears your voice grow scratchier each day, he realizes something. This can't be a cold. Your throat doesn't scratch for that long, especially if you're taking care of your voice like each day is your last. It's something else. Komaeda stares at the way you sing the song, brows furrowed in concentration. Your voice is smooth, yet something pains it.

He's not stupid. He knows you're sick with something more chronic. But he doesn't know what it is. You have no symptoms except for coughing. On the other hand, he struggles with his vision. His tears burn away at his eyes. He seldom cries. The damages are minimal, but with you sick and him unable to turn a blind eye, he'd rather suffer than put more on your plate. But the sound of twinkling each time he feels his heart burn eats away at his eyes.

So the two of you keep to yourselves.

It's companionship. It's not friends. You aren't friends. You aren't close. The two of you are no more than accompanist and performer. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter to you as your lungs are eaten away, and his ability to see color is destroyed. It doesn't matter as the flowers you throw up turn into bulbs, and his tears start forming actual crystals. It doesn't matter, because both of you are musicians pulled along by your ability to love.

You find it harder and harder to sing each day with Komaeda. It's hard. Your throat burns. Your voice box hurts. After each song, you're burning and crying and scratching for air. But you can't remove your stupid feelings, or else your ability to feel might be removed with it. You have to graduate. It doesn't matter if you never get loved back. You'll die before you get the chance to.

"Komaeda," You sit down one day.

"Yeah?"

"I have hanahaki." You open your thermos, and Komaeda's jaw drops.

"H-hanahaki? How? Who are you in love with?"

"I can't tell you who," You stare at the tea in your hand. "But I just wanted to let you know. I'll probably die right after the performance. I have... three months left... maybe?"

"You can't die," Komaeda stares at you. "If you die then how the hell am I going to recover from my sickness?"

"You're sick?"

Komaeda stares at you in the eye for the first time since the two of you have met. His eyes are pale without color. There's a little green left, and your eyes widen in horror.

"How long? Who are you in love with?" You rush, and your hands meet his face, staring into his eyes in a mixture of horror and fear. "Komaeda? Are you alright? You can't lose your vision! How are you going to sight-read?!"

Komaeda stares up into your eyes, a smile on his face. "A name for a name?"

You swallow.

"You go first."

"No," Komaeda shakes his head. "You go first."

You shake your head. "I can't."

"Then neither can I," He smiles. "Why won't you tell them?"

"They don't love me back," You smile, a painful look in your eyes. Komaeda wants to assure you that it'll be fine, but he knows it won't.

Komaeda isn't in love with you. You realized that when you watched him stare at Hinata in his friend group. You, the lyre player and vocalist, fell for a man who fell in love with his best friend. It hurts. His burns away at his eyes, while yours burns away at your lungs. Komaeda fell for his best friend. He thinks it's pathetic. You think you're pathetic. You're the stranger in this story. You never belonged. Komaeda has a place as a friend; you have no place in this friendship.

Komaeda loses all ability to see color one day.

It comes slow, and when you open the door to the room, you drop your bag in horror. His eyes are colorless.

"I can't see color anymore," Komaeda laughs, tears running down the side of his cheeks. "So? How are your lungs?"

"It isn't the time!" Your lungs hurt right now. "How are you going to see?"

"Without the presence of the sun, what lights up the shadows," He smiles, the tears dried on his cheeks. "There is nothing-"

"Moonlight. Moonlight will illuminate it. Even when the sun goes down, even in the places where the sun doesn't reach. The moon will be there." You hold Komaeda's hands and stare up at him. The flowers burn in the back of your throat. It doesn't matter. He has to live. You can't live your last months without him. "Please, Komaeda, you need to be able to see in color, or else everything you play will be in black and white."

Komaeda smiles at you. "How long will it take?"

"It wont," You grimace. "You can't heal star tears."

Komaeda leans into the palm of your hand.

"How I wish it were you instead."

"Maybe then I wouldn't be coughing up flowers," You stare at him. "Do you? I wish it were you too."

Komaeda smiles. "Take a rest for today?"

"I can sing on my own," You smile. "Take your time."

The flowers crawl up your throat quickly. It becomes less of a thing of will you survive, and more of a will you be able to sing at your graduation. You have to be able to sing, or else you won't be able to graduate. You hate this. You hate yourself. You hate everyone else. How come you can't have a love that's returned? Your song mocks you. The crescendos taunt you, and the diminuendos pull you down into an endless spiral. Your fortes grow harder and harder, and the pianos laugh at you for being in love with someone who doesn't love you back.

"Let's take a walk today," Komaeda stares at your sick form. "Please?"

You grab the lyre with you in case.

His eyes are dull without color. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom since it's spring. The pink catches in your hair, and you don't brush it off. Slipping off your shoes, your toes meet the grass. It's calming. The pink doesn't remind you of the flowers you throw up anymore. It provides you with a sense of peace. That even as the gladiolus flowers bloom in your chest, the cherry blossoms on the tree still blossom and dance in the wind. You smile.

Komaeda stares at you, his heart light. You look happier.

You strum the strings on the lyre, spinning under the tree. Your lungs feel lighter. Your heart had forgotten how to breathe. It doesn't matter anymore. If you would die, you would go out like a star. Burning until there's nothing left to burn and bursting the world back into color for Komaeda. There had been a legend that star tears were reversible with the right conditions, and you would meet those before you go.

"Komaeda-kun! Let's go see the stars tonight!" You beam at him.

Komaeda stares at you, a gentle smile on his face this time. "Sure." anything to make you happy.

Komaeda pauses. Anything to make you happy? He stares at the way you dance under the tree, a blissful smile on your face. You. He was in love with you. His heart clenches, and he sighs. You were in love with someone else. There was no way his luck would play into his hand this time. He wondered what you wanted to do under the stars. Maybe you would laugh and tell him who you really liked. It didn't matter. He stares at the way the sun paints your skin, and the way you seem to glow. If the moon loved the sun until she was burned dry, then Komaeda was more than willing to dry out for you.

Night falls, and as you sneak out your dorm, the stars seem to sparkle brighter than before.

"Why'd you call me out so late?" Komaeda catches you in his arms, and you smile down at him.

"Because the stars hear your prayers, and the moon answers them." You pull him along under the stars. Komaeda passes the endless music buildings and classrooms as you pull him higher and higher up the main building. Komaeda watches the way your hair flies behind you, and for a moment, he thinks the moon is a much better fit for you. The moon embraces you with her warmth, yet it doesn't suit you. Komaeda hopes this moment never ends.

You finally slow down, and Komaeda stares at the glass conservatory on the roof of the school. It was for the few who studied astrology at the school. He wonders how you found this place. But then again, when has the sun never loved the moon with their whole heart? And Komaeda realizes.

"Hm? I heard there was a meteor shower, so I thought we could sit here as the astrology students watched in the grass field." You smile at him. "Hm?"

"A meteor shower?"

"There was a rumor," You lie down on the tiles of the floor. "That anything can come true when it's a wish under a meteor shower. It was a story I heard from an astrologist student, haha."

Komaeda lies down next to you, and he stares at the grey sky. It's all grey. The sky looks black other than the stars sticking out. They look like freckles. Komaeda turns his neck to stare at you, and glances back up at the sky. Something is moving.

"They're here!" You beam, pointing up.

Ah, those were shooting stars.

"Make a wish, Komaeda-kun," You close your eyes and clasp your hands together. Komaeda stares at the stars. He hoped you could recover from your sickness. He stares at the way your hands are clasped together almost childishly and how your brows are furrowed in concentration. He wonders what you wished for. Maybe for your own quick recovery? He didn't mind.

The months fly by, and your coughing fits grow worse. You step into the doctor's office for the first time in months, right before your performance. Your lungs are full of flowers. It was a miracle that you could even speak right now. You have two days. One for the performance today and another for tomorrow to say your goodbyes. You rush back to change on time before the performance.

Art without heart is a scary thing. The crowd stares at the way you leave a trail of flowers behind you as you step onto the stage. Normally, it would be pretty, yet as you stop in front of the audience next to the piano, they see the way your dress is made of individual petals, which eventually turn into bloody flowers. It was a statement. The song was an experience you went through. But everyone's thoughts are stopped when you open your mouth. Despite the scratchiness from the damage from the gladiolus flowers, your voice is still honey to the ears.

Komaeda sways along with your voice, his fingers dancing on the keys. He follows you as you climb the crescendo, and he follows you as your voice skips down the diminuendo. The ritardando turns your spinning into a sway; the accent makes you bounce on stage. Your voice is full of life despite the meaning behind the words. Your heart is being eaten away. A slice of your heart is provided for their happiness. A piece of your lung is given for their joy. You're being eaten away at by your over. And as you hit the final note and bow, a flurry of flowers slip past your lips, finishing the tale.

Komaeda rushes over to you as you stumble, catching you in his arms. You stare up at him, a smile on your face. A little bit of blood slips past your lips, and he wipes it with his thumb, his other arm hooked behind your waist.

"I love you," You smile.

Komaeda stares at you, his heart suffocating his chest.

"I love you too," He presses his lips to yours, and the once silent crowd cheers.

And as his lips meet yours on the stage, the colors burst back into his vision, painting you the most gorgeous of colors. You look ethereal under the stage light. He could only dream of what you would look like under the sun in color again. He's in love with you, and he could only be in ecstasy over the fact that you're in love with him too.

He leans his forehead against yours, his voice a whisper again.

"I love you too."

The flowers in your lungs blossom into nothing as the sun presses its lips to the moon's.

The stars twinkle in the distance.

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