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akitokihojo · 3 years ago

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Monster - Chapter 5

chapter index

Inuyasha crouched beside the sleeping girl, tapping the back of his index finger on her thigh to wake her. The sun was rising. It had already peeked over the mountains, pushing away the shadows of night as fresh shades of pink and yellow welcomed in the new day. He could have let her sleep a little longer; he was sure she needed all the rest she could get to recover from what she’d been through, but he was bored, ready to go, and he’d already done more than enough for her as it was. Which meant, she needed to get up.

“Hey,” His voice was husky while he tapped her leg again, this time with the entire backside of his hand. Kagome didn’t stir, her deep, rhythmic breathing remaining the same. She was sleeping on her side, her hands tucked just before her mouth, and raven hair waving over her cheeks. If she was normally this deep of a sleeper, she’d better learn to pray before she dozed off at night. If she didn’t wake up at the slightest off sound, the crack of a twig, the whisper of sneaky bandits planning a surprise attack, she was screwed.

“Wake up.” Inuyasha tried again, applying a little more force into his tap that time. She moved her leg the slightest amount in response, but she didn’t rouse. The hanyou shook his head, setting a knee down as he comfortable kneeled to get a little closer.

In the morning light, her fair skin was accented with little hints of peach, her nose and the bits of cheek he could see blushed delicately. To himself, he wouldn’t deny she was sort of cute, and there was even a somewhat eager part of him that wanted to see what she looked like unharmed and undeniably happy. Would her cheeks tint deeper? Was her laughter contagious? Was her real voice soothing, or was it high-pitched and girly? Additionally, did she freckle in the summer? Were her shoulders sprinkled with those little, brown blemishes that would attract eyes and lips? Did she speak with her irises and the twitch of her brow, or was she expressive all over? Did she look as good in a gown as she did in pants? His mind was wandering now, going way too far, so Inuyasha snuffed out the remainder of his curiosity. None of those answers mattered. He didn’t actually care to know.

Though, beyond his control, he found his hand drifting toward her face, carefully and gently pushing the strands of rogue hairs away from her cheeks. Her hair was soft and just the graze of his middle finger had him wanting to run them all through her locks. Again, too far. Coming to his senses, Inuyasha stopped himself before tucking the strands behind her ear, settling on letting them rest along her jaw. If she’d woken up while he was touching her, it could have easily turned into an uncomfortable situation for the both of them.

Tired of being gentle, and wanting to end the waiting he’d been doing, Inuyasha pinpointed a common ticklish spot on the girl’s ribs. With his thumb and index, he gave a rough squeeze to the area that would be felt even through her brown bodice. Just as the girl heavily flinched, gasping hard and eyes shooting open, he bounced back some to avoid any absentminded reflexes she may have had.

Brown eyes stared at him confused, shifting into a rotten glare as he assumed she’d realized what he’d done. It was impossible to swallow his amusement, chuckling at her grumpy expression as she slowly pushed herself to sit up.

“Why?” She asked.

“You weren’t waking up.” Inuyasha shrugged, standing and walking away to kick out whatever embers still lived in the small pit he’d created the night before.

Kagome kind of sunk into herself while she blinked the sleep from her eyes. The crisp, fresh air of the morning was cold on the tip of her nose, her exposed chest, and even the flesh beneath the thin shirt she wore. She realized then that she was no longer covered by Inuyasha’s garment, and the chill was able to get to her that way. Even as she looked around her to see if she’d accidentally pushed it off in her sleep, she didn’t see it. He must have already taken it back before waking her. Maybe it was done in one of his attempts to rouse her. Maybe he’d never intended for her to know he’d covered her with it in the first place. Either way, she chose not to bring it up. The rising sun would bring warmth, and she’d be adjusted to the atmosphere in no time.

“How long have you been up?” Kagome asked conversationally, standing on her feet and taking a huge stretch. Her arms reached over her head and her feet pushed to the tips of her toes, her body creating space in all the tense areas that it needed.

“Didn’t sleep.” He stated, grabbing the medical kit she’d never collected and tossing it on top of her bag.

“Why not? Aren’t you tired?”

He sort of scoffed, making sure all of his shit was together before throwing the straps of his bag over his shoulders. “I don’t need as much sleep as humans do.”

“Right, right.” Kagome bobbed her head, absorbing the information. “But, you are half human, are you not?”

“Your point?”

“You need some sleep, right?”

“Occasionally, yes.” Inuyasha answered, a little annoyed by her excessive questioning. “Last night was not one of those times.”

Kagome nibbled on her lip slightly, shrugging her brows in meager recognition. She took his cue and began getting ready to head off, kneeling beside her bag and shoving the medical box inside. She reached for her canteen, opening it up to take a swig, the water cold and shocking in her mouth but still refreshing. Then, she shoved it into the side of her bag where she’d initially made its home.

“Your voice sounds better today.” Inuyasha nonchalantly commented, securing Tessaiga on his hip after readjusting everything on him.

Kagome hadn’t even noticed she was speaking smoother than she had been yesterday. It still wasn’t back to normal, per se, but she was hoping that was due to typical, morning grogginess. Then again, it’d be remarkable if she’d fully recovered within the span of a day. Either way, she felt it was nice of him to notice. She pulled the drawstring tight on her bag, then got the straps comfortably set over her shoulders. “Oh, I guess you’re right. How are my bruises looking?”

“Gross.” He chuckled. “Your neck isn’t looking too pretty, but it’ll fade in another day or two. It wasn’t horrible to begin with, so you’ll be fine.”

“Good to know.” She giggled. “I haven’t really gotten to look at myself. I wasn’t paying attention to it when I’d had the chance, so I really don’t know what I look like right now.”

“You look like you’re covered in dirt and there’s a leaf in your hair.” Inuyasha said, cocking a brow in amusement. The girl’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she glanced down at her hips, noticing the loose dirt clinging to her dark pants. Quickly, she dusted herself off, slapping her hand along her calf, her thigh, her hip, butt, waist, and arm to clean herself off. Then, she brought her thick hair forward, finding the dry, breaking leaf and pulling all the pieces of it out.

“How’d that even happen?” She grimaced, referring to the leaf. She’d been on her bag the whole night. Of course, she’d look like a total freaking mess in front of him. The last thing she wanted was to give him more ammunition to make fun of her before they parted. She preferred his nice side, and it was humiliating that she would walk right into any opportunities for him to tease her.

“Have you ever been on your own before, kid?” The half demon asked. The girl had grabbed her bow and arrows, securing the quiver over her right shoulder properly, and making sure her arrows were accessible as she reached back for them.

“Completely? No.” Kagome admitted, opting to hold onto her bow for the time being. “One time, my cousin and I ventured a little too far into the woods while training and got turned around. Had to camp out for the night and wait for the sun to rise so we could actually see any landmarks we recognized to get home. I know it doesn’t seem like much. Believe me, I’m aware the situation was extremely different than what I’m doing now, but it was something of a wake up call of how observant and cognizant you need to be when you’re alone in a dangerous, foreign area.”

“No kidding.” Inuyasha remarked, shrugging his brows. “Are you normally a deep sleeper?”

“No, not really. I usually wake up from any sound.”

It was sort of a relief to hear that. Inuyasha was more than willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for this morning. She’d had a rough past couple of days, so it was only natural that she’d be undoubtedly exhausted. Her body was probably demanding the rest by holding her captive in the unconscious state she was in.

“Alright, look,” He began, crossing his arms over his chest as he fully faced her. “What I’m about to say isn’t meant lightly. I fully think you’re in way over your head, and one false move will cause you to drown, so listen to me carefully. If you’re smart, you’ll turn around. Go home, kid. You’ve got a family and friends, and your place is with them. If you still want to see this thing out, whoever you’re looking for can wait until you’ve got a rounded and reliable party to back you up. I may not know the details of what you’re planning, but given how much you have told me, doing this alone is a death wish, and you know it. Given the stubborn wench I’ve come to know in the last day, though, I’m willing to bet you’re about to tell me that’s not an option. Would I be out money this time around?”

“Not this time, no.” Kagome shook her head, meeting his stare with matching fervency. No way was she about to turn around. No way was she about to call it quits just because he told her to, or even because this was difficult. No way. He didn’t know what she was capable of, but despite the harsh and critical tone he spoke to her in, she could tell he was only looking out for her. It wasn’t his place to tell her what to do, but she could see the compassion in the depths of it. “I’m not going home.”

“Fine. It’s your life; do with it what you will.” He rolled his eyes. “Here’s some advice: sleep with one eye open, always have your weapon at the ready, be quick, and whatever you do, don’t go picking fights with people. I’m sure you’re fully aware of this, but the world treats women a lot differently than it does men. As much as that would flare your instincts to demand equality, you need to be more cautious than righteous right now, understand? You’ve got tits, an ass, a nice body, and a pretty face. Men have eyes, cocks, no self control, and muscles to take whatever the fuck they want. Keep your head down, don’t bring attention to yourself, and do whatever you need to do to stay out of trouble. Go find whoever it is you’re looking for, and then go home. Do you hear me?”

Kagome gave him a nod of acknowledgment, but suddenly her nerves were disturbed. He was right; the world was a lot more unfair to women than to men. She could boast her ego all she wanted, declare that she stood a chance with her powers and experience, but the truth of it was, if she was outnumbered and caught off guard, Kagome could have a lot done to her that she wouldn’t be able to stop. She was tough, yes. She wasn’t entirely helpless, no. But, if something happened at the wrong time, in the wrong circumstance, so much could go awry. As blunt as Inuyasha had been, it was appreciated. There was no tip-toeing around the subject. Kagome was on her own, so she needed to bring her A-game.

“You were headed that way.” Inuyasha pointed in the general direction in front of him. “It’d be smart to stay near a water source, or at least know where the nearest one is. You got good aim?”

That was one thing she could definitely pride herself on, and Kagome smiled into her nod. “Yes.”

“Good. You’d be useless without it given the weapon you’re holding. You can’t afford niceties, so if someone threatens you, shoot ‘em. You don’t have to kill them, but if you nail them in the leg, they can’t chase after you.”

While Kagome knew the value of a life, and sometimes struggled with the general idea of ending one, she had killed before. Animals. Demons. She could do it without hesitation if hers or someone else’s life was on the line. It wasn’t something she enjoyed doing in the least, which was what divided good and evil, but some situations called for it, and if there was no room for stalling, then she’d shoot her enemy down. Kagome had been hardened to accept that when she was younger while she trained with her dad. He’d made it clear that if it was ever between your life or your enemy’s, you have to do what you have to do. You can pay your respects after.

“Anything else?”

She genuinely wanted to know, Inuyasha could tell. Kagome was listening to everything he had to say, collecting the advice to keep it all in mind. He admired that about her. She could be annoying, but when something important was being said, she didn’t let her ego take over like your average person would. She didn’t claim that she knew it all, or give the irritating I can take care of myself speech. She was paying attention, and asking if he had anything more to give before they went their separate ways.

“Yeah.” Inuyasha said, stepping closer to her. The girl neither flinched back, appeared uncomfortable, or moved away. She stood in place, her chin inching upward with his approach as her brown eyes stayed glued to his amber. Her natural scent was sweet, muddled by the earth and fire she’d laid so close to. There was less spice in what he picked up from her; more of a soothing, soft, floral aroma that attracted his attention. He’d intended to memorize it just in case, but even if he hadn’t, his senses demanded more. He hadn’t meant to become intoxicated by her pheromones. He merely wanted to remember who she was. Inuyasha was lucky he had a sharp mind, and it was easy to pull his head out of things and ground himself. He curled his fingers into fists, his claws slightly biting into his palms as he looked down at Kagome. Her face had colored more now that she was up and conscious, now that she’d rested, now that they stood so close, now that he’d given her the unwanted truth of what she could potentially encounter. Surprisingly, she didn’t look scared, and only held a rational amount of concern, noticeable in the subtle way her lips had parted. This was the last thing he was going to say to her. And, it was the most important. “Don’t let me find you dead anywhere. You’d better survive.”

Kagome’s heart gave a soft sputter and she wondered if he could hear it. They hardly knew each other, but his demand was so earnest. In that same regard, she was surprised by how much it had meant to her. She had no plans on dying before seeing her objective through, but a new fire was flickering to life in her abdomen. Now, it was like nothing was allowed to stand in her way. Inuyasha would never find her body; she wouldn’t let him experience that. He may not know where she was going, or what she was aiming to do, but in the end, when it was all over, she hoped word would get out that she was partially responsible for Naraku’s demise. She wanted him to know, however far off that may be from now, that she did it. And, she lived. Life for half demons would improve, and she wanted him to know that his impact was a part of that.

“I will.” Kagome stated bravely, giving a single nod of her head.

“Alright. Get going.” Inuyasha gestured with a small flick of his chin, amber eyes darting toward the direction she was to walk off in, and she graced him with a sweet smile. He felt warm in that moment, almost inclined to return the expression, but his straight face held as steady as it always had.

“I’d thank you for everything you’ve done, but you also kidnapped me.” Kagome said, taking several steps back before turning on her heel to face the direction she wandered in. Her grin only grew wider when she looked over her shoulder at him, a soft giggle on her tongue. “So, we’ll call it even. Bye, Inuyasha.”

“Ingrate!” The hanyou shouted after her, half annoyed and half amused. Cheeky brat.

Kagome only laughed harder, continuing on her way through the trees.

He must have traveled off in the opposite direction, because it was only small moments later that she stopped sensing his demonic energy. Kagome optimized her heightened senses, immediately following through with the promises she’d made to tread carefully. Her powers weren’t a curse out here, they were her friend. She didn’t have to hold back for the sake of her village, her family, or the fear that someone would see her while she trained, because this was what she’d been training for. This was the exact moment she needed to release the restraints she’d consciously formed out of weariness of exposure. By no means would she be careless, but by no means would she hold herself back anymore. With the vivid look she’d gotten at Kikyo last night, she didn’t have time for that.

Kagome had followed the river upstream for a few miles, stopping for a break as the sun was almost in the center of the sky. It was as good a time as any to reevaluate her plans. She went ahead and took off her belongings that weighed down her back, stretching her neck to the sides while she massaged the aching muscles of her shoulders. She reached into her bag and pulled out her water, chugging the contents of the bottle before sitting in the grass.

When she’d left home, and even before then, she’d always thought her first move would be to find Kikyo. Wherever Kikyo went was where she was supposed to go. Or, so she thought. That plan was now flushed. They couldn’t find each other, it was too dangerous. So, now what? Was she meant to go straight for Naraku? Or, was she meant to find someone who could help her improve on her powers? If that was the case, maybe that someone would be able to help her unlock skillsets she didn’t know she yet had. What were the odds of her stumbling across a well-educated conjurer, though? It wasn’t like Kagome could just go around asking, and she’d only ever heard of two who could potentially help. Both were unreachable. Kikyo was one, but obviously that was a no-go. And, through her father - who’d heard this on one of his many adventures - she’d learned of a conjurer who was extremely powerful. Midoriko. It took some riddle solving, but with Miroku’s help and a little bit of risky research, they figured out that Midoriko was a conjurer who lived before they were known as such. She was a priestess. She was never black-listed, and was looked up to for her strength and ability to contain evil demons. She faced a war, fought valiantly, and she lost - all well before Kagome was born. So, given that, Kagome was on her own.

Kikyo had said she needed to use her powers to figure out where she was meant to go, so she focused. Kagome shut her eyes, taking a series of deep, meditative breaths as she thought of different routes she could potentially take. One involved searching for help, one involved wandering until everything fell into place on its own, and one involved going directly for Naraku. Nothing quite sat right with her; there were problems will all options. The first ran the risk of dead end after dead end. She didn’t have a single lead to support her taking that path, and it wouldn’t be an easy task to find one to get her going. The second was a little too hopeful and ran the risk of wasting precious time. Though, she would admit, the option inexplicably sat higher than all else. The last sounded borderline disastrous. She didn’t feel ready for that challenge; not in the least. Even Kikyo had mentioned she had a lot to learn before she was ready to take Naraku on, so heading straight toward the monster was the most perilous choice she could make. If she went with the second, as blind as she’d feel on the route, she’d be able to train every step of the way. She’d shoot a hundred arrows before resting at night to make sure her aim always stayed deadly, she’d enhance her conjurer abilities in whatever manner she could, and eventually, she would find Kikyo and face Naraku by her side.

It worked best this way. Kagome didn’t even know where Naraku was hiding, so no matter what, she was going to be blind for a while. Ultimately, she could say she was after him; his fall was the endgame. There was just a rather large gap between where she sat now and where she’d be when that day finally came. The gap, Kagome felt, was nothing but a mystery. It looked blank. It looked like a space of nothingness that her intuition only told her she’d understand once she inevitably walked through it. She could say the adventure began two days ago, but truthfully, she felt it was barely beginning now.

The world didn’t seem any brighter now that she’d made a decision. Usually, it felt like a load off your chest or a defined moment of clarity shined like rays of light from the sun. This was nothing like that. Subsequently, her decision to figure it out as she went along, to trust the process so to say, was also a decision to remain in the dark until the unknown played out on its own volition. Although it was a clear day, Kagome looked at the world right now as if fog trickled over the forest floor, between exposed tree roots, and above the river in front of her. The metaphorical haze in her mind became physical as she let the anticipation of the unprecedented future overwhelm her. She allowed herself thirty more seconds to cope. Kagome acknowledged her anxiety, validated it, took three deep breaths that expanded her lungs to their fullest capacity, and then pushed herself to her feet. Sauntering over to the river bank, she lowered herself to her knees, taking an unclear gaze at her reflection in the slow-moving water.

As horribly frustrating as it was to not know what to do, to not know where she was going, to not know her next definitive move or even when things would fall into place, as horribly frustrating as it was to feel lost and like she held no control, Kagome could do nothing more in that moment but accept it. She went from having a plan to merely having a goal. How was it Kikyo seemed so sure while Kagome was nothing but confused? She felt so harshly ridiculed the night before that she couldn’t help but be worried every step she was taking, or thought she was thinking, was wrong.

“If you’re watching me, Kikyo, go away.” Kagome murmured, glancing over both of her shoulders to see if she’d spot that white, serpent thing Kikyo admitted to using in order to spy on her. What was it called, a shinidamachu?

A mouthful, was what it was.

“You told me you can’t help me,” She continued, eyes scouring the trees across the river. “So you don’t get to be upset with how things do play out. Go ahead and relay that message, floaty-snake-grave-robber. Let her know I don’t want to hear it.”

The interesting part was, though she didn’t see the shinidamachu anywhere, Kagome didn’t even feel ridiculous talking to herself at this point. There was still the possibility it was there, listening, and she’d said what she said.

Kagome gave a small, defeated shake of her head as her attention fell back to her blurred reflection. After a moment of trying to make out her features, she gave up. It didn’t much matter what she looked like; there was nothing she could do about it. So, she went off of how she felt. Her skin was a little oily, and it wouldn’t hurt any to freshen up. In fact, it would probably aid in revitalizing energy. A cool splash of water always helped.

Quickly, she went back over to her bag, seeking out the tie for her hair and pulling it back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Kagome yanked the sleeves of her shirt up as high as they would go, kneeling at the bank of the river and leaning forward. Cupping her hands, she dunked them into the cold water, bringing a generous amount up to run over her face. Over and over, Kagome repeated this, rinsing the oils from her skin, the dirt, the soot, the sweat. The chilling liquid dripped down her chin and neck, over her chest and into her shirt, drenching the top hem at her breasts but she didn’t care. It felt too refreshing to stop in time to prevent the dampening of her clothes.

Kagome slowed, making sure not to abruptly stop her movements in an obvious manner, but a twinge in her senses made it difficult. She was being watched. She’d caught that subtle, spine-tingling feeling that traveled down her back like the legs of an unwelcome spider. For a moment, she wanted to write it off as the shinidamachu, but Kagome had a gut feeling the serpent was undetectable. It wasn’t a demon, and it wasn’t an earth-bound creature. Frankly, she didn’t know its origins, but this was Kikyo. She kept a low profile, appeared to be a lone wolf sort of girl, and the last thing she’d do was use something obvious that anyone could trace back to her. No, these were eyes on Kagome. Eyes that refused to blink, eyes that violated boundaries.

She could feel demonic energy. Two maybe. One for sure. They weren’t approaching, though. Kagome didn’t feel their presence getting stronger; it was just there. Stable. There was distance dividing them. Were they literally just watching her? Maybe they were passing through, saw her washing up, and thought they’d get lucky enough to watch her strip down and bathe.

It took effort to bite back her groan as she rolled her eyes. Men.

It would be wise of her to get going. Lingering with them looming around was text book for trouble.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the mischief-maker, Inuyasha.”

“Oh god, is that what you guys are calling me?” The hanyou grimaced, turning to face the two idiots behind him. They’d been following him for a while now, so he was unsurprised when they finally popped out. It was honestly about fucking time. He was getting ready to expose them, himself.

“Among the other names we’ve given you.”

“Are they as creative as ‘mischief-maker’? I feel like I’ve earned myself a little more of a reputable nickname than that.” Inuyasha dully stated.

“How about, half-breed bastard?”

“A little better.”

“How about, dead?” The other suggested.

“Now, see, you lost me with that one. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think you’re grasping the concept of nicknames; they’ve gotta be relevant.” Inuyasha pointed, giving the demon a wry grin.

“Believe me, it’ll be relevant by the time we’re done with you.”

“Can you at least let me know who the fuck you are first? Manners, boys. Manners.” He clicked his tongue. Steadily, Inuyasha’s hand found the hilt of his sword, not yet unsheathing it, but firmly grasping in preparation. He’d honestly never seen these guys in his life, but they looked like bandits. Acted like bandits. Smelled like bandits. The scent of unmaintained body odor, sweat, dirt, their own semen staining their clothing because they’ve only got their hands to do the trick, and the meal they ate the night before. Inuyasha crinkled his poor nose. Yeah, definitely bandits.

“Remember Gatenmaru and Garamaru?”

“I’m sorry, are those foods or something?” The hanyou inquired, confused.

“He’s playing dumb; don’t take the bait. He just wants to piss us off.” One said to the other, both of which appearing quite peeved for trying to ignore his question.

“I’m serious. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Gatenmaru and Garamaru!”

“Wow. Now that you’ve said it a second time, it’s all coming back to me.” He stated sarcastically.

“They’re moth demons! Bandit leaders! You killed -“

“Oh!” Inuyasha loudly exclaimed, a light flicking on in his mind. “Those two brothers that liked to collect women. Yeah, they’re dead.”

“We know. We’re here to avenge them.” One growled.

The hanyou snorted some, his smirk only growing. “Seriously? It’s been months.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it’s been, you bastard! This has just given us ample timing to join forces and devise a plan.”

“Join forces?”

“Yes.”

“Like, one bitch boy’s bandits working with the other’s?”

“Yes.” The demon seethed, hating the disrespectful remark but forcing himself not to comment on it and stay on topic.

“Hey, you guys remember they hated each other right?”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Which one did you work for?”

“Garamaru.”

“Yeah, he hated Gatenmaru for working with humans. And, now you’re working with humans.” Again, Inuyasha clicked his tongue in mocking disappointment. “What would Garamaru say?”

The two demon bandits looked at one another bemusedly and seemingly at a loss for words. He could see it on their faces; they were realizing he was right and most likely remembered the way Garamaru talked shit about his brother. Inuyasha was in his presence for all of twenty minutes and heard it all, so it was impossible that the bandits beneath him wouldn’t have. The bothers lived life apart, refusing to acknowledge the other’s existence, but ironically enough, they died together. Metaphorically speaking, of course. They committed identical crimes, and were charged as two wanted entities in one package. From the reward he’d collected from that job alone, Inuyasha still had plenty of money left over.

“Too late now.” One shrugged. “So, I guess it doesn’t really matter. You murdered both of them and fucked us all over by doing so. A lot of people want your head.”

“What, because you were solely co-dependent on a cheap demon? How is that my problem?”

“Because -“

“Rhetorical.” Inuyasha held up a hand to stop them from talking. “I don’t actually care. In fact, you should be thanking me. None of you are forced to call your masters ‘daddy’ while being used as a cock sleeve anymore.”

“Why you son of a -“

“Careful now.” The half demon smiled, arching a brow. Steadily, he pulled Tessaiga from its sheath, the sword transforming into its large and powerful state as each inch was freed. “You act too hastily and you wont be able to fight alongside your makeshift army. Then all your months of hard work will be down the drain. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“Figured it out, have you?” A demon smirked.

“Aside from the fact that you told me already, yeah. I can smell them all getting closer. Some are still lingering far away, waiting for a signal I presume. Were you trying to plan a surprise attack?”

“Surprise or not, we didn’t much care. We knew you had some demon in you, so it’d be difficult to actually sneak up. But, we did know the best option was to overwhelm you.”

“Because, you’ve got quite the number on your side.” Inuyasha added, really taking in the scent of all he was up against. It wasn’t just a dozen or two. It was more like seven or eight. There was no fucking way all these men worked for Garamaru and Gatenmaru. The two brothers were a lower tier of demon. They weren’t wealthy, weren’t necessarily powerful, and their biggest skill was deception. Gatenmaru took full advantage of his human dependents, manipulating them, even scaring some into loyalty. It didn’t take a genius to determine that both demons made big promises to their groups; promises they didn’t get the opportunity to cheat their way out of. Therefore, leading to the bandits feeling robbed and blaming Inuyasha. So, who made up the rest of their army?

“You’ve got a sharp nose.”

“Who are the extras?”

“Like we said, we’ve joined forces.”

The hanyou shook his head in disbelief. “This is just the combination of Gatenmaru’s and Garamaru’s men? No one else?”

“No one else.”

“Seriously?”

“Garamaru had a huge following. I’m sure you didn’t know that.” The two goons looked a little too proud, but he couldn’t much blame them. They really succeeded in throwing him for a loop.

“Wow. Ho-ly shit.” Inuyasha remarked, pursing his lips. He was strong, but he was also one man. One man against about a hundred. This should be interesting.

Kagome pulled the tie from her hair, shoving it into her pocket while she continued walking, her raven waves freely flowing around her shoulders. She was growing irritated now, her huffs clenched in the back of her throat. The two demons were following her, their auras growing stronger as they stuck close so they wouldn’t lose her. Yet, they never came out of hiding. She was hoping she would have lost them at the river, but they’d been following her for over thirty minutes now, and Kagome was over it. At one point, she’d gotten so distracted by their presence that she’d mindlessly found herself on the trail she’d come from, walking in the direction she’d left Inuyasha in for who knows how long.

Would it be picking a fight if she called them out? Would she be asking for trouble if she didn’t continue to ignore it, or would she just be considered proactive? With their incessant stalking, Kagome was convinced they were bound to make an appearance sooner or later. Sooner rather than later would be favorable, though.

Her bow was still held tight in her hand, and she twitched her finger along the wood of the arch in debate. Should she raise it and instigate, or should she wait?

The choice was taken from her as she heard some rustling in a bush from behind. Kagome turned around to see the two demons sauntering forward, smiles worn on their aged faces. Actively, she showed no sign of disturbance, merely watching them with curious eyes.

“Hello, wench.”

She hated being called that by sleazy, unwashed men. It felt more like they were referring to her as a sex object rather than a woman.

“Hello.” Kagome greeted semi-pleasantly.

“What’s a girl like you wandering the woods alone for? Don’t ya know you could get lost?”

“Oh, no need to worry.” She played off, her tone sweet as she waved away the fake concern they presented. “I know my way around these parts. I was just actually running an errand, and now I’m on my way home.”

“What kind of errand?”

“My grandma makes fruit baskets. I was out delivering one for her.”

“I’ve never known the fruit basket industry to be very dangerous.” One called her bluff, gesturing to the bow in her hands and the arrows on her shoulder.

“Oh, this? You’re right, it’s not. I carry it just in case anything out of the norm ever arises. For instance, two strange men follow me in the woods for over a mile and start harassing me. Wouldn’t want to be defenseless.” She replied, appearing unfazed.

The two chuckled, their teeth sharp and stained. “Knew we were there, did you?”

“Your smell gave you away.” She slighted.

“So did yours. See, we’re on our way to see someone who we happen to know you’re in cahoots with. Figure you might want to join in on the happy, little reunion we’re about to have.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our good, old friend, Inuyasha.”

“Who?” Crap. Crap, crap, crap. What sort of mess was she involved in now? That no good, dog-eared, ruffian, middle-aged-man-colored-hair, jerk. She’s in his presence for a day and she’s got men tracing her thanks to their obvious bad blood.

Kagome’s poker face held steady while she swallowed her annoyance, brown eyes shifting back and forth to the demons standing just before her with an arm and a half’s length to spare. She’d take a step back, but she’d already tried that. They were persistent in keeping her within reach, and merely closed the gap she’d created.

“Don’t play coy. You’ve got his scent all over you.” One grumbled.

That’s right. Of course, she did. That’s how they must have found her in the first place. He’d covered her in that red cloth last night while she slept, so it was only natural that his scent would linger. And, be identifiable by those with sharper senses. What she couldn’t detect, the smell so subtle, they would with ease.

That didn’t mean she was about to go easily.

“All over… What smell?”

“The smell of a half demon.”

“Hm.” Kagome hummed, acting intrigued. “Does it smell nice?”

“What?”

“Do I smell nice?”

“No!”

“What a rude thing to say.” She criticized, appalled and shrinking back dramatically. It was a feeble attempt to create space, and thankfully, this time, they didn’t think to close it again, falling for her dramatics. “To a lady, no less!”

“You ain’t no lady.”

“Oh? What am I, then?”

“A half-breed’s whore. Which makes you filth.” The smile the humanoid demon wore was wide and proud, gleaming with the afterglow of his insult.

Kagome couldn’t even attempt to hide her expression then. The corners of her mouth grew into a grin, eyes dropping to the ground, her head following suit as she shrugged her brows in contempt. The smallest chuckle escaped her teeth before she inhaled and looked back up at the men. She ran her fingers through her hair, not caring how her bangs may have ruffled messily when she pushed them from her face, and slowly, carefully, but also daringly, Kagome’s fingers raked down the length of her waves until they met the nock of one of her arrows.

“Wow. Charming.” She said, pulling the arrow from its quiver. Naturally, the demons took her as no threat. Much like every demon she’d ever faced, all they saw was a young girl with a weapon that would merely leave a flesh wound on them if it actually managed to hit. This worked in Kagome’s favor. They could laugh all they wanted, mock her, point and guffaw, because that just meant they weren’t lunging to stop her.

“So, this Inuyasha guy,” Kagome spoke as their amusement began to subside. She hardly watched them, her attention minding their feet as she took her time aligning the nock with the string of her bow. The shaft of the arrow lightly tapped the grip above her hand while she got her fingers situated, knuckles clutching the nock just right. “What’d he do?”

“He messed with the wrong crowd, that’s what.” The one on her left stated, his tone telling her the smile still remained on his ugly face.

She finally glanced up, her weapon still held low. “Yeah, but what did he do?”

“He killed our leader, wench.” The one on her right said, and she could tell he was the more serious of the two.

“Ah, gotcha.” She nodded, sucking in her bottom lip. Must have been another bounty. Which meant Inuyasha was only doing his job and bringing down someone with proper justification. Of course, this was a guess, but it was an educated one. With the way the men before her looked and acted, they were up to no good and so their leader had to have been worse. She felt a little bad for mentally jumping on Inuyasha the way she initially had when she’d found out this was about him. Chances are, he didn’t know they’d be out for blood, and he definitely couldn’t have guessed that they’d involve her after one night’s encounter. “What’s that got to do with me, though?”

“Jesus, do we need to spell everything out for you? Are you stupid?”

“Quite the contrary. A stupid person wouldn’t have known you were following them since the river, wouldn’t have held a straight face while they lied, and wouldn’t have already figured out that your boss probably deserved to die without you having to tell me who they were or what they’d done.” She replied, stepping her right leg back as she leveled her weapon at them, the feather at the end of her arrow grazing her cheekbone lightly. “Yeah, I know who Inuyasha is, but your assumption is all wrong. I just met him yesterday, so nothing’s on a personal level. So, go ahead. Tell me what this has to do with me.”

“You’re one bold bitch.” The one on her left snarled, spittle flying out with his enunciation of the slur. “We’re going to use you against him. As we speak, he’s being attacked by our forces. We outnumber him greatly, so our victory is a given, but the motherfucker fights dirty with that sword of his. Bringing you along, using you as our pretty, little hostage will get him to forfeit, and make his death much quicker and easier.”

Kagome scrunched her nose, shaking her head as she hummed a negate. “Nope. Sorry, bud. That wouldn’t work at all. All I did was annoy the guy. The majority of the time I was with him, he had me tied up and held as his own hostage. Like I said, you’ve got it wrong; we aren’t friends.”

“I think we’ll take our chances.” The one on the right growled.

“Not interested. Being held hostage once is enough for me, thanks.” She pulled the arrow back another centimeter, pointing it at him to prevent him from taking a step forward.

“The fuck do you think you’re even gonna do with that?”

“Shoot you.” Her tone was calm, steady, the residing scratch in it temporarily abating as she kept her voice low.

“And, then what? You should know that it would hardly leave a scratch, and the only reason you’d be able to hit us in the first place is because we’re within five feet of you. We oughta kill you right here, right now for thinking you stand a chance. Who the fuck are you to raise a bow to us?” The demon on her left spoke, taking a large, threatening step inward, almost lunging. Kagome acted. It was a matter of time before something would happen, and she’d been counting down the seconds. The last thing she could afford to do right now was allow them to touch her. They do that, and she loses. They meant business, and she understood from the moment they stepped out of the bushes that they weren’t going to just let her walk away.

A rush of energy bubbled to the surface of her core, expanding outward and gravitating toward the head of her arrow. She could see her own power shining around the sharp edges, the shaft, the feathers, glowing lavender where she focused her strength. In one quick move, Kagome redirected her aim and released her arrow, the head plunging into the demon’s chest and disintegrating his body before he even had a chance to stumble backward. Her hand reached behind and grasped another arrow without missing a beat, aligning the nock with the string as she pulled it back and aimed at the demon to her right.

He was stunned, red eyes wide and angered. His lips, thin and cracked, were held open, choked sounds escaping his throat as he processed what had just happened.

“What’s the matter?” Kagome asked, claiming his attention once more. “Never met a conjurer before?”

“You wench! I’m going to fucking kill you! No, better,” He grinned viciously. “I’ll hand deliver you to Naraku and watch him rip your head off!”

“No, you won’t.” She said clearly. The threat didn’t faze her. His words were empty, and even if they weren’t, she wasn’t about to let him come near her. “You aren’t going to touch me. What you are going to do is tell me about this attack on Inuyasha. Your buddy said you outnumbered him. By how much?”

“Fuck off, bitch!”

“Try again.”

“Suck my dick!”

“You won’t have one for long if you keep this up.” Kagome swore, arching a brow and lowering her aim a few inches.

“You won’t do shit to me!”

“Won’t I? You saw what I just did to your friend.”

“I’m much stronger than he was.” He growled, hands furled into fists as he lowered slightly, almost in a crouch to leap at her.

Kagome made a loud warning sound, her knuckles tightening around the notch of her arrow as she pulled it back slightly. “Don’t. Move. You’ve never met someone like me, so let me give you fair warning as to what I can do to you, exactly. I can make it quick, which I’ve already demonstrated. I can make it slow, which you don’t want. Believe me. Or, I can use just enough power to torture you from the inside out. It’ll be extremely painful, and you’ll be begging for death. That’s a relief I won’t give to you until you answer me, though. So, which will it be? I’d choose wisely if I were you.”

“What the fuck do you want!? An exact number!?”

“You got one?”

“No, you fucking cunt!”

“Give me a guess. Are we talking ten? Twenty?”

“Hah! Yeah, right! More like eighty or ninety!”

Kagome’s brows twitched inward, lips curving in dismay. “That’s a bit excessive to take on one man, don’t you think?”

“Inuyasha not only killed our leader, but his brother as well, leaving both of their packs of men with nothing. Instead of going on with our lives and starting over, we decided to band together to get revenge first. Gatenmaru sickeningly worked exclusively with human bandits, and his reasonings were unknown to us, but be that as it may, they still had a healthy number of skilled fighters with the same thirst for vengeance. Not as much as we, the demons under Garamaru had. Garamaru was a powerful moth demon, one with a large and dedicated following. The vast majority of our forces come from my group and we’ll undoubtedly prove to be lethal against that half breed.”

“Wow. Inuyasha seriously pissed off almost a hundred people in one go? Not gonna lie, it’s a little impressive. Where’s this happening?”

“What do you care if you aren’t friends? You gonna try to save him or something? You’re not leaving this spot alive, and even if you manage to, he’ll be dead by the time you get there.”

“You’ve got a lot of confidence for looking the way you do, pal.”

“What did you -“

“I may not know Inuyasha well, but I’ve got a huge feeling the worst thing your guys will manage to do to him is leave a scratch or two. You’re the one who won’t be around to see it out.”

“No wonder Naraku wants your lot dead! You’re a sick, twisted cunt! I’ve heard your kind is supposed to be peaceful and pure, and here you are threatening to kill me.”

“Oh, shut it!” Kagome barked, growing fed up. Her body was warm, tingling, her spiritual power laying just beneath the surface as she kept the flames fanned and strong. She was righteous, and mad, and as the seconds ticked by, staring into the eyes of a monster who vowed not only to kill her but Inuyasha, her fingers began to shake. It wasn’t of trepidation. No. It was because her might continued to build. While she felt completely in control, she’d also never felt so powerful. “The only sick and twisted one is Naraku! You want to validate his bloodlust while you were just saying you were going to kill me, too? Nice double standards, creep. Take a look at the world we’re living in. There’s no such thing as peace and purity anymore. People are constantly living in fear, hiding away, there’s division, judgement, brutality, and an outrageous amount of darkness. In order to survive, you have to be adaptable, right? Killing you won’t take anything from me, I can guarantee it.”

He smiled sinisterly, licking his fangs. “If you’re as adaptable as you say, find the hanyou by your goddamn self then.”

“Fine. I will.” Kagome said, releasing her arrow. The demon stood no chance in dodging, succumbing to her power and crumbling to a pile of ash.

She turned on her heel then, running down the path she’d been on, the path she’d traveled down since she’d left Inuyasha’s side that morning. He went in the opposite direction, she could only guess. So, she hoped that if she just kept running, she’d eventually feel his aura and be able to use that as her guide.

A part of her questioned why it felt so imperative she run to him. Because, it did. He was part demon; he could handle his own. Against eighty or ninety, she wasn’t sure, but that’s where his demonic sword came to play. Right? Who had ever been up against such a large number and lived to tell about it, though? Perhaps that was it. It had to be. It was unnaturally unfair, and even if he didn’t actually need her help, she couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat caused by her concern. She had to see for herself. She had to see him walk away. She needed to make sure Inuyasha lived.

They weren’t kidding when they’d mentioned their goal was to overwhelm Inuyasha. Had they been watching him from afar? Studying him? His techniques? Tessaiga, if used right, could demolish a hundred demons in one swing. The thing was, he had to actually be able to swing the fucking sword.

He’d gotten one good wind scar in before they closed in on him, making it damn near impossible to use it again. With how close they were, Inuyasha was only able to block with his blade, occasionally slicing someone down, basically reducing the Tessaiga to nothing more than a standard sword. He needed room to attack. He needed space to thrust the blade and conjure a pernicious assault. But, it was all he could do just to defend himself at the moment.

There were too fucking many, and Inuyasha was getting more pissed by the second. Tessaiga wasn’t light by any means, but with his adrenaline levels kicking, he used it to block weapons with one hand while slashing bandits with the sharp claws of his other. He’d grab them by their throats and shove them away, usually into others so multiple fell back at a time. Inuyasha realized that he was subconsciously doing anything he could to create space. He was too reliant on Tessaiga’s power, and it was only holding him back. It was going to be his downfall if he didn’t think of something else.

Kagome had to stop. She had no choice. Her lungs were burning, aching for air, her legs begging for rest, and she clung to the bark of a tree as she tried to calm herself through her body’s frantic attempt at supplying itself with oxygen. Sweat was dripping down the sides of her face, over the bridge of her nose, tickling on its path down, and even getting her arm to cooperate to use her sleeve to wipe the moisture on her brow away was difficult. She was trembling, and she didn’t know why.

Maybe she’d gotten too far into her head, scaring herself into thinking Inuyasha wasn’t going to be okay. Maybe her brain registered the sprinting she’d been doing as a sign to secrete epinephrine to keep her going, maybe even releasing a little too much. Kagome felt so hot, and she couldn’t tell if it was from her spiritual power or the fact that she’d been running for who knows how long now. She wanted to say it was the latter - it made perfect sense - but she could feel her abilities just ready to spring free, so it really could have been both at play. Maybe that was why she quaked. Or, the incredible amount of demonic energy she felt from ahead was the cause. She’d been following it for a while, and it had become sickening.

It took moments, moments that consumed too much time on their own, until the rise and fall of her chest slowed to a more manageable rate. Her heart was thumping behind her ribcage, each pound felt and reverberating through her entire torso, but the blood being pumped no longer drowned through her ears. Now, what she heard were shouts and battle cries, curses and death threats, and the clashing sound of metal smacking metal. No wonder the energy was dense with malevolence. Kagome was closer than she’d thought. She was close to Inuyasha and a heavy, unwelcome feeling sank into her abdomen.

Mindful to stay alert just in case, Kagome pushed forward, her boots hitting the dirt as she ran in the direction her senses pulled her in, in the direction of the fight.

Tessaiga was knocked from Inuyasha’s hand, de-transforming the instant it hit the ground. Fuck. This was bad. He dipped the fingers of his right hand into the cut on his left shoulder, making the wound bigger in the act but that was irrelevant. Inuyasha made sure his claws were doused before swiping at the bandits, blades forming from his blood to kill the bastards that leapt at him.

There were too many. It didn’t matter if they were weak on their own, didn’t matter if they were insignificant in size. There were too damn many at once. It was like a swarm of ants taking down a bee. Alone, they were negligible. Together, they were dangerous.

Inuyasha had taken down a good portion, but he was growing tired and they just kept coming at him. He had good hand-to-hand combat skills, but they had weapons to one-up him. He was good at dodging, but there wasn’t much space to do so. He was bleeding, drenched in sweat, breathing erratically and trying not to let it show to avoid letting his enemies know he was weakening. Despite his disposition, it was impossible to miss the burning sensation within his chest. Not one of his lungs pleading for a break, but one of the blood within his veins. His demonic blood.

He was in mortal danger; he knew, his body knew, and his mind knew. The chemicals that made up Inuyasha were revving into high gear, and no matter how many times he swallowed, no matter how many times he willed the call to subside, no matter how many times he stepped away or pushed them back to make it seem like he had the high ground, there was no calming his instincts. His demonic blood was much like adrenaline, but more potent. Adrenaline was fight or flight, do whatever you must to survive. Inuyasha’s demonic half was fight or kill, and it usually opted for the extremes.

He needed to get back to Tessaiga. He needed the hilt in his hands. The sword, the demonic source within it, helped keep his own demonic side at bay. It gave him security to subside his nature, it provided a sheath to conceal the evil he couldn’t control. Willingly, he stepped back, keeping his golden eyes on the men ambushing him while making it seem like they were pushing him. He knew where his sword had fallen, so he stepped in that direction, punching, swiping his claws, and dodging blades all the way. He’d fallen short though, someone blocking his path. Without knowing, he’d been backed against a steep hill, and the back of his heel hit the slope, making him fall.

Kagome peeked around the edge of a tree trunk to spot a man several feet before her in waiting, watching the scene from the thickets. It was difficult to tell if there were any others in the same vicinity; her senses were a jumbled mess with how horridly thick the air was. It would be impossible to sneak around him, and given the circumstances, Kagome didn’t have time to find an alternate route. As quietly as she possibly could, she stole an arrow from her quiver to align the nock with the string of her bow. It was hard enough to keep her heavy breathing silent, forcing her lungs to take slow and steady inhales through her nostrils no matter how much they demanded quick-paced air supply. The last thing she wanted was him hearing and jumping on her, or even alerting others nearby of her attendance.

It was a low move to kill from behind, to deny another the opportunity to defend themselves, but Kagome didn’t have a choice. Even if she intentionally alerted him of her presence, she would only release her arrow the moment he spun to face her. It didn’t matter right now. He was bad, he was one of the people threatening Inuyasha, and therefore, he had to go. Kagome pulled her arrow back incrementally to prevent the creak in her bow, and the moment she had enough tension built, she let go, the spiritual power she’d attached to her weapon obliterating her target the moment it hit.

She stole his place then, running forward to spot the disastrous scene ahead. From her angle, she could see the side of Inuyasha as he was pushed back against the incline of the small hill, stumbling down onto his bottom and forced to block, roll to dodge, and kick troops away from him. He was unarmed. His life was in danger.

It was like something took control of Kagome then. There was no time to think, so she didn’t. There was no time to tell her body how to act, so she let it do it on its own. There was no time to try to understand the sensation that coursed beneath her skin, so she didn’t bother, allowing it to consume her entirely. Over and over, all she could hear from within was the shout, the urge, the absolute demand to save Inuyasha. It was her own voice, and it was loud, clear, strong, and authoritative in its will as it declared “He won’t die!”

Kagome ran from her spot, following the curve in the mound as she raced to get to the area above where Inuyasha was trapped. Along the way, she prepared an arrow against her bow, her weapon at the ready until she came to a break in the trees. So many were attacking the hanyou below her, so many were furious with how he kept managing to fight them off, surviving when they so badly wanted him dead. The atmosphere was riddled with horrible, intense energy, and it just kept getting worse. Her stomach was leadened, a mass clumped in the very center of Kagome’s throat, and she wondered if it was the result of all the catastrophic vitality, or if there was something else. Something worse.

Inuyasha’s yell, his growl, the sound released from his throat - one of pain - brought Kagome’s attention right back where it belonged. Nothing else mattered. There was no discovery that needed to be had; nothing needed an explanation right now. Her anger, determination, empowered the heat within her veins. Once again, she could feel her heart pounding against her chest, seemingly growing heavier by the second, especially as she raised her bow and pulled her arrow back to graze the side of her cheek. For the moment, she held her breath. A rush of power flooded over every inch of her flesh, tingling, prickling, but she stood steady. Her instincts took over, and she didn’t aim at one single combatant. No, she aimed as if her arrow was about to sweep the field and erase every villain from sight. Pulling the string back another inch, making it incredibly taught, she waited just one more moment, giving ample time for her power to saturate. With an exhale, Kagome released, the light she created, the evidence of her power that only she could see, flying outward as the head of her arrow sliced through the current of air, purifying the evil, killing Inuyasha’s enemies, and freeing him from his perilous assault.

Inuyasha was about ready to give up the fight against his demonic side. He couldn’t reach his sword, and his left arm was bleeding heavily, the pain of his wounds only assisting the energetic approach of the half of him he had little-to-no control over. The bandits were infuriatingly relentless, and though his plan was to wipe them out either way, his demon side left no room for survivors. Those who waved their white flag and ran for safety wouldn’t be able to get away, and that was the unforgiving part that Inuyasha fought back. It was brutality at its core, and he fucking despised it, but if it was the only way he was bound to survive, then fuck this shit.

His body was burning, his fingers shaking, and his growls were growing deeper. His kicks were becoming stronger, and a voice in his ear told him to use his claws to rip their tracheas out. Inuyasha threw in the towel, releasing whatever control he had remaining, his instincts sharpening even though everything was going dark. He, his true self, wouldn’t be conscious for what was about to happen.

Just before he slipped, a shift in the atmosphere slowed everything down. Something whizzed by, the sound effect loud in his ears as it shot through the field, a formidable shock clearing the offenders all around. All of a sudden, Inuyasha’s attack had completely halted. There was no one in front of him, at his sides, in the distance, coming forward. He’d watched them all decompose before his eyes, from nearest to furthest as the arrow pierced the ground at an angle quite a ways ahead. No longer did he feel weighted with the horrible shift of his indocile half. It had suppressed, and not even he had felt the clean dissipation of its need for bloodshed.

What the fuck just happened?

He’d never seen this before. The only time he’d ever witnessed a field wiped clean was with incredibly powerful attacks only demons were capable of, and even that was a rare occurrence. This wasn’t the result of a demon, though. No. It was light and relieving. It was strong and just. It was purifying. Inuyasha had only ever heard of this sort of thing; he never thought he’d actually be present in this sort of circumstance. This had to be…

This had to be the work of a conjurer.

Quickly, the hanyou twisted around in his seat to see who’d invoked such incredible magic. A woman stood directly above him at the top of the incline, her black hair long and wavy, bangs curling and sticking to her forehead and temples from the sweat that dripped down her face and from her chin, dotting her chest that rose and fell with her heavy breaths. Her bow was still raised, the hand that’d released the arrow hovering beside her head as if she’d let it go a split second ago. Her eyes, deep with courage and perseverance, were aimed ahead of her, over his head, staring at the arrow she’d stabbed the earth with, and her pink lips sat parted, opened for the air her lungs pleaded for. Inuyasha could see it on her face. He could see her processing what had just happened, where she was, what she’d produced as her brows relaxed, her expression shifting into one of shock. Her arms progressively lowered, eyes darting around the now-empty premises before landing on him just as he spoke.

“Kagome?”

What had she done? How had she done it? The revelation of her capabilities was both astonishing and frightening. Never in her life had she generated so much spiritual power, and she wondered if she’d always been able to do something this amazing or if it only came forth because of her pressing fear that Inuyasha was going to be killed. Seconds later, it all came crashing down, short-lived. Screw wonderment and disbelief. Kagome had just committed a conjurer’s act in front of someone; an incredibly strong demonstration of what she could do, at that. No one was ever supposed to see that sort of thing. Not unless they were well-trusted, or were on the other end of her attack. There was no way around it, she understood this, but that didn’t keep the guilt and panic from sinking deep into her core. She’d simultaneously succeeded and fucked up. Big time.

Kagome stared at the awe-struck half demon, still on the ground, amber eyes wide as they gazed up at her. She needed to leave while he was frozen. She saved his life, and that was all she’d come to do. For all she knew, he could turn on her at any second. He may not be on Naraku’s side, but that didn’t mean conjurer’s didn’t have a bad reputation as it stood. It was why they went through so many titles through the decades; it was the spun tales of the ignorant who didn’t understand. He could kill her. He could turn her in. He could do a dozen things that Kagome couldn’t even begin to fathom right now. This was what she’d learned to fear; an outsider finding out what she was. Suddenly, she felt so terrified of the circumstances at hand that she felt painfully nauseous. Her legs felt wobbly, her fingers were trembling, a flash of warmth rode over her flesh, and it seemed she’d begun perspiring even more than before. Kagome hadn’t thought as far ahead as she wished she had. Her plan stopped at saving Inuyasha when it should have stopped at staying hidden so he’d never turn around to see her.

She swallowed thickly to push down her sickness, stepping back and stiffening her muscles to force them to cooperate properly. Inuyasha didn’t move, and with each step backward she took, she sent out silent gratitude. But, she stopped, a heavy and menacing aura approaching from the far right tree line.

There were more.

Kagome hadn’t pieced together that if one man was standing on the sidelines watching, waiting, there were most definitely more planning on eventually jumping out. There were more men, there was more evil, coming forward. Had they seen? Did they know, too? She had to go. No more slow movements; they needed to get the hell out of there. Separately.

“Th-there’s more.” She spoke brokenly. “Inuyasha, get up. There’s more. You need to go.”

The hanyou spun around to face the exact direction she felt them coming from. His ears twitched, swiveling, no doubt hearing them as he hastily lunged to the side for his sword. Kagome took the opportunity then to take off, spinning around on her heel without saying another word and sprinting as fast as she could.

Inuyasha grabbed Tessaiga and pushed to his feet in the same motion. He had no plans to stick around for another ambush. Fuck that. Not with his condition. But, as he turned around to tell Kagome to run, she was already gone. He didn’t have to question why, it was written all over her face. She wasn’t just running from the incoming attack, Kagome was running from him.

“Wait! Kagome!” He called, thrusting Tessaiga back into its sheath just as the next wave of bandits appeared, charging forward. Inuyasha pushed himself up the incline, catching her scent and racing after it to catch up. Better than anyone, he understood why she took off. He could help, though. Chances were, the bandits had seen, and he needed to get her far away from here. He wasn’t going to let them have her. “Stop!”

Kagome tried to run faster, her throat and lungs burning, her muscles aching, but she fought through it, pleading with her body to help her get away. It felt like she was weakening, slowing, and Kagome took to outwardly begging for her legs to keep going, repeating “please” over and over until tears burned at her eyes. She was so ungodly scared of what could happen, everything seeming so deleterious and life-threatening at that moment.

The heavy thump of footsteps were behind her, closing in, and Kagome barely had an opportunity to push herself passed her limits before a large, hot hand closed around her wrists, pulling her to slow but then jerking her in a different direction just as she inadvertently yelped, almost making her choke when she gasped at the same time. Inuyasha held onto her tightly, his grip almost bruising while he ran directly in front of her, guiding her, and then abruptly, he stopped, pushing Kagome flat against a tree and pressing his body against hers.

His calloused hand covered her mouth, glowing eyes meeting her own. They were inches apart, the rise and fall of his chest pressing against her own, clashing with the rhythm her lungs held. Kagome didn’t know what was going on or what he was doing, but just as she tried to push him away from her, Inuyasha pressed further inward, his hold on her mouth firming.

She felt it then, the incoming swarm of people. Kagome could hear their thudding footsteps hurdling their way, and immediately she stopped fighting the hanyou, her fingers clutching onto the fabric of his black shirt, quaking, keeping him on top of her. Her nausea never subsided, only growing worse with each passing moment, and she swallowed profusely, over and over, willing her stomach to calm but it wouldn’t listen. She held her breath as he pushed impossibly closer, and she shut her eyes tight. Inuyasha’s face was directly next to her own, his head bent slightly to match her height. She could feel his sweat drip onto her clavicle, his hot breath on her ear before he sucked in and held it at the very moment the assailants closed in and raced right by them.

Each beat of their boots on the earth had Kagome’s heart thrusting against her ribcage painfully. She never released her hold on Inuyasha, her searing tears gliding over her cheeks and then pooling at the top of his hand, spilling over his fingers. She counted the seconds that passed, allowing herself to breathe but only very, very steadily so that she could continue to swallow and push down the bile that felt to be rising through her esophagus.

Gradually, it grew quiet. Inuyasha let it sit for a moment, thankful the majority of those that passed seemed to be human. The demons, these kinds at least, didn’t appear to have sharp senses. That, or they didn’t rely on them like the wiser did, bringing them to completely miss the two they ran right past. No one stopped, no one realized they were there, and even afterward, which was what he was waiting for, no one turned around.

He eased off of Kagome, though he kept his hand on her mouth. She was terrified, shaking against him, and the last thing he wanted her to do was yell or scream. As he gave her space, Inuyasha glanced down at her, watching her brown eyes blink open. She returned his stare, and she seemed to be calming, but it shifted so quickly when her eyes widened and the hands she’d braced against his chest released his shirt to frantically push him away. He sensed her panic, saw her panic, and the hanyou released her and jumped back just as Kagome folded forward and vomited.

The girl was choking on her sobs, trembling, and she dropped to her hands and knees as her stomach heaved. She’d felt burning hot when his cheek was to her temple, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. There was no time. There still wasn’t. They were sitting ducks and he needed to get her out of here. Before that, Kagome needed to get this out of her system. Calmly, Inuyasha knelt beside her, moving cautiously when she flinched to pull her hair behind her shoulders and hold it out of her way. He slipped his palm beneath her bag, rubbing her back slowly, soothingly. Her whole body was racked with hiccups and quakes, her flesh scalding even through her shirt and bodice. What the fuck had happened to her?

“Please - please don’t…” Were the only words she managed to cry out. She’d finished puking; it had been minutes since her stomach clenched violently, but she was a defeated, sickened mess.

“Please don’t, what?” Inuyasha asked, mindfully keeping his tone quiet. She sobbed hard, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and sitting back on her legs where he released her hair. He’d caught a peek at her paled face before she shook her head and looked away from him, unable to speak clearly so she didn’t even try. She was scared and weak, and he knew, he just fucking knew that this all had to do with who she was. He had very limited knowledge on conjurers, but even when he pinned her yesterday she didn’t look nearly this afraid. Her secret was still safe then.

“Kagome, I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” Inuyasha waited a moment for her to respond, pulling his hand from her back. When she made no motion to comply, he gently grabbed her forearm but took a more serious tone when he repeated himself. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she shifted his way, holding her sleeve in front of her mouth. He couldn’t tell if it was an anxious quirk or if she didn’t want to take chances of him seeing any of her illness she may have missed cleaning. He could comprehend both. At this point though, it wasn’t important. He reached over and pushed the hand away, gesturing to her that she had nothing to worry about. And, she didn’t. She was clean. But, she seemed even paler, and he was sincerely concerned. Her eyes, though bloodshot, were large, sad, and swollen. Her lips were curved in a quivering frown, and her cheeks were clammy with sweat.

“I am not going to hurt you. I swear. You’re safe, Kagome. We need to get going so we can keep it that way, though.” He pushed the straps of his bag off of his shoulders, discarding it to the side. “Come on, get on my back.”

“What?” Kagome mouthed, her voice failing her in her state. She didn’t know how to read Inuyasha right now. Her head was pounding, her body wouldn’t stop shaking, her throat was burning, and she felt dizzy. She still needed to try and understand what was happening, though.

The hanyou reached over to her, softly pushing sweat-soaked strands of hair behind her ear. “I need you to trust me. Okay? I know you’re scared, but I’ve got you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I know someone who can help us both. I’m going to take you to her.”

Unintentionally, Kagome held out her pinky to him. A pinky promise. Of all times, of all people, she was requesting a pinky promise, as if it would actually keep her life in tact. It was habit. He wouldn’t understand, and she shouldn’t expect him to.

To her surprise, Inuyasha tangled her pinky with his, showing minimal hesitation to give her what she wanted. With that same grip, he pulled her closer, silently telling her to climb on his back.

“Did - did you want me to hold your bag?”

“No,” He replied, though her inquiry reminded him to think of one thing he’d have been pissed to leave behind. He pulled the drawstring of his bag open, pulling out the folded, red robe that used to belong to his father. He stood, walking to the backside of Kagome to pull her drawstring open and shove it in her own bag before securing it shut. “I don’t need anything else from it.”

“Are you sure?” She asked as he crouched before her again.

“Promise. Climb on. We gotta go.”

She did as he asked, tensing her muscles again to make them cooperate, though her vertigo made it difficult just to position herself on his back. Even though she didn’t feel completely settled, Inuyasha took over for the rest, firmly clutching the backs of her thighs and standing. With a little jostle, he hiked her up to position her perfectly, the backs of his hands finding each other beneath her bottom so she was secured.

“If you feel sick again at any point, let me know and I’ll stop immediately. Otherwise, hang on tight.”

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love-and-monsters · 4 years ago

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Unicorn Centaur

M centaur X F reader, 5, 091 words

In this story, you work as a hired guard for a centaur lord. Your job is to get him to the stronghold with his horn still attached- no matter how annoying he is.

You hooked your knife back into your belt and pulled on the thick, metal-reinforced plate that covered and reinforced your chest. It was a pity you were no longer going to be staying in a nice bed, but the money you would be getting for this escort mission would supply you with a nice bed for weeks to come.

Dressed in the royal blue uniform you’d been presented with, you headed outside of the inn to look at your charge.

You’d heard you were escorting one of the young lords- he was the oldest son of one of the local lords and primed to take over his father’s land when the old man died. Being a lord, and therefore, pretty rich, wasn’t the only reason you had been charged to escort him.

The elderberry lords were an unusual kind of centaur. Most centaurs looked like standard horses from the waist down, and completely normal humans from the waist up. But these lords were an unusual sort: unicorn centaurs.

Aside from the long, spiral horn in the center of their foreheads, unicorn centaurs had more delicate bodies and long tails that were tufted in hair. Their fur was typically white, though black, gray, and brown unicorns also existed. It was always oddly shiny, almost pearlescent, and startlingly beautiful.

Unicorn horns were rumored to have magic potential. Extreme healing powers and all that. So, whenever the unicorn centaurs traveled outside of their well-protected homeland, they hired bodyguards to ward off anyone who wanted to cut their horns from their heads, killing them in the process.

The sound of hooves alerted you to the approach of the procession. You watched as they approached. Two of them were standard centaurs, with brown fur and black hair. One of them trailed a thoroughbred after them, presumably for you. And in the middle of them was a pure white centaur. His tufted tail flicked and waved behind him, his shiny hooves gleaming against the dull dirt road. His head was under a veil, held away from his face by his long horn. Veiling was a common practice among unicorn centaurs. It was old, coming from a time when servants would wear sticks and veils on their heads so bandits couldn’t tell those with horns from those without. Nowadays, it was less common, but most unicorn centaurs were a little haughty and hid their faces regardless.

You approached them with a stiff back, arms held ramrod at your sides. “I stand ready for defense,” you said.

The lord turned his head to you. The white veil obscured his expression, but you knew he was looking at you. “A human guard,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Yes, sir,” you said. Human guards were standard for centaurs, if only because they were much less obvious and could employ guerilla tactics. But that didn’t mean the lords were going to stop being sniffy about it.

“Hmph,” he said, turning his head away from you. One of the other centaurs offered the reins of the horse to you and you swung up onto its back.

“We’re heading for the Vastran Stronghold,” one of the centaur guards said. “It’s a week-long journey. You’ll be paid upon arrival.” You nodded, shifting the reins in your hands. Paid upon arrival was standard for guards as well. It ensured that if you failed, you didn’t get paid.

You set off down the trail at a steady pace. The lord was slightly ahead of you, walking at a steady pace. You shifted impatiently in your saddle. It was going to take longer than a week if he kept up his slow pace. He was barely moving faster than a walk. Then again, you thought, the veil likely made it difficult to see.

For hours, you rode on and on. The sun was hot and your hands kept slipping on the reins. Your rear ached from the stiff saddle. Luckily, it was easy to stay on guard. The trail was in the midst of a field, which made any approaching enemies easy to see.

By the time the sun was setting, you had made it into the forest. It was a mixed blessing. It was far easier to hide in a forest, but the same was true for any adversaries. And it was more difficult for centaurs to move in the forest. The lord was better at it than many others you’d met. His slender frame made it a little easier for him to pick his way out around the trees.

You stopped sometime after the sun had set. Setting up the tent was a hassle. It was large and irritatingly fancy, and you had an easier time getting close to the ground and fiddling with knots and pegs. By the time the tent was up, you were exhausted.

Of course, the tent was only for the lord. You had a sleeping bag, and that was good enough for you. Not that you used it much. You spent about half the night patrolling, looking for adversaries.

The woods got thicker the deeper you went. The next day, even the lord was starting to have trouble traversing it. You eventually hopped off your horse and took to guiding it over the logs and leaf litter. Luckily, the trees provided some shade from the merciless sun.

Resetting the tent that night was difficult. The ground just wasn’t flat enough. Eventually, you managed to set everything up and collapsed into your sleeping bag.

You were roused by one of the other guards near midnight and set up for your shift. Blinking sleep from your eyes you settled next to the tent’s doorway.

You hadn’t been expecting to see the lord during your shift. It was late and you thought he’d been sleeping. However, shortly after your shift started, you heard something shift in the tent. You glanced over in time to see the lord emerging.

It was the first time you’d seen him without a veil. His face was pretty, with delicate, smooth features, long lashed eyes, and smooth, full lips. A long, pearlescent horn spiraled from the center of his forehead. He stepped delicately from the tent, heading toward the edge of the camp.

“Hold on!” You stood and followed him. He looked back at you, his full lips curling into a sneer. “Where are you going?”

He shifted his weight, snorting. “Where do you think?” His long tail shifted, slapping at his flanks. “Need I tell you of my every bodily function?”

“I do need to accompany you, sir,” you said. His eyes narrowed and he gave a horse-like snort.

“You’re a woman,” he said. His tone was derisive enough to make you bristle.

“Indeed. I’m glad you’ve managed to notice. That doesn’t change the fact that I am your guard and I need to keep watch over you.”

“I will be gone for five minutes. I won’t be far away,” he said.

You sighed. “I understand that you’re embarrassed. But trust me, assassins don’t have a sense of honor and they will not hesitate to kill you at any opportunity. Even if you’re pissing.”

It might have been a trick of the firelight, but you could have sworn the lord’s face was turning red. “Fine,” he snapped. He turned and trotted into the woods. You followed from a short distance.

You did keep your back to him while he did his business, keeping your ears out for any other motion. Finally, he stomped out of the bushes, refusing to look at you, and headed back to camp. Whatever. You didn’t need to talk. You just needed to protect him.

There was an uncomfortable tension between the lord and you the next day. He kept his nose firmly in the air as you helped take down the tent and glared at you from under his veil when you started moving. Fortunately, being a guard meant that you had dealt with far worse things than a cranky lord. You ignored him, picking your way easily through the woods.

It was obvious that he was getting tired of traveling, too. He toyed uncomfortably with his veil, snapped at his centaur guards when they tried to pick up the pace, and started stumbling over the little bits of detritus on the trail. It slowed your pace considerably and you heard the other guards grumbling about it when you stopped for the night.

It was your turn to bring the lord dinner that night, so you gathered up his fancy meal (well, fancy for something you were eating on the road) and brought it into his tent.

He was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, reaching for his hooves. There were little cuts around them, probably from all the tripping he’d been doing. You cleared your throat, setting his meal on the ground near him.

“Are you all right?” you asked. He snorted, glaring at you.

“I’m fine.” He tucked his hooves back underneath his body. “It’s none of your concern.”

“If you say so,” you said. You headed back for the tent entrance, then hesitated. The cuts were small, not serious at all, but they looked like the sort that would sting and itch irritatingly. “I have some salve that might help those, if you’d like me to-”

He cut you off with a piercing glare. “I don’t want nor do I need any of your ridiculous human medicines. And I’m not allowing you to smear any of your foul-smelling gunk on my hooves. Just give me my dinner and go.”

Anger boiled, threatened to overspill. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. Getting into a shouting match with your employer was a bad idea, no matter how much you wanted to do it. “As you wish, sir.” You spoke through your teeth. He snorted and flicked his tail, but said nothing else. Stiffly, you turned and left the tent.

Fortunately, you didn’t need to speak with him much after that. You slept for most of the night and broke down the tent in the morning. Then you were off again, the lord veiled and walking a little in front of you.

The forest was growing less thick, but that was only making you more nervous. This was the most dangerous part of your journey. There was a town only a few hour’s gallop away and it had a port. If someone wanted to grab the lord’s horn and take off, this would be the best part of the journey to do it during.

If the lord was stressed, he didn’t seem to be showing it. He was even slower than usual and got even sniffier than usual when one of you tried to prod him along. By the time you were ready to stop, you were exhausted just from dealing with his constant complaining.

“Can’t you put that up any faster?” he whined as you started setting up the tent. You ground your teeth. “There are bugs out here! They keep biting me!”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” you said. It was growing more and more difficult to not yell at him. You swore you could feel one of your blood vessels getting ready to burst.

“Then your fastest is incredibly slow!” Good lord, his voice was annoying. There was a slightly nasal quality that you hadn’t initially noticed, but which was becoming more and more apparent with every word he spoke.

Cramming all of your frustration away into a back corner of your mind, you finished up the last of the pegs and stood. “It’s done,” you said, adding a sarcastic, “your highness,” in an undertone.

He snorted and stalked into the tent. You leaned back on the ground, trying to calm yourself back down.

“Hey.” You looked up. One of the other guards was leaning over you, giving you a patient look. “Sorry about him.”

You huffed. “I’ve dealt with worse. I think.”

The guard chuckled. “He’s not easy to deal with, I know. Take a break, why don’t you? I can cover your shift if you’d like.”

You hesitated. “You sure? I didn’t take a guard shift last night.”

“It’s fine. Really, you’ve done enough today.” He waved his hand dismissively. You shrugged.

“Sure. Okay.” You know what? You weren’t going to argue. You were going to get some goddamn sleep.

At least, that was the plan. The instant you lay down, though, your head was buzzing. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired. You were. Your body wanted more than anything to fall asleep. But your brain was insistent that you could not.

You tossed and turned. Tried to find even a slightly comfortable spot on the ground. Counted to one hundred, counted back down. Did some meditative breathing. Every time you started to slip toward unconsciousness, your brain would send out alert signals that made you jolt upright out of bed.

After what felt like years, but was actually only an hour, you got up. Clearly, you were not going to sleep. Your instincts were picking up that something was wrong. Might as well trust them.

The other two centaur guards were outside the tent. You positioned yourself a little closer to them, still somewhat hidden in the trees. You didn’t want to bother them, and maybe if you were a little closer to the lord, you’d be relaxed enough to fall asleep.

One of the centaur guards shifted his weight. He was swaying a little on his hooves. The other centaur guard glanced over just in time to see the first guard slump over, landing in a heap on the ground.

Your chest clenched. Automatically, you stood, ready to go help. But the other centaur guard just glanced down at him briefly, then, with an unhurried, uncaring gait, he stepped into the tent.

Alarm bells rang through your head. You plunged out from the tree line, heading right for the tent. The collapsed guard was left on the ground. You felt bad, but if he was fine, he was fine, and if he wasn’t, there was probably nothing you could do. Your first priority was getting to the lord.

You tore through the front flap of the tent. The false guard was standing over the lord, gripping his horn in a single hand. The lord had clearly just been woken up and he was staring at the guard with dawning horror.

No time to think. No time to plan. You lunged. One hand went to the blade you kept strapped to your hip, the other went out, to seize the centaur’s shoulder.

He barely had time to turn toward you. Your knife hit the side of his throat. There was always more resistance when stabbing people than most thought. You really needed to have some commitment behind it. You had plenty. The knife ripped through his neck in a spray of blood.

He choked. His legs wobbled. The hand holding his knife slackened and fell. You seized him and wrenched him to one side, so he didn’t collapse onto the lord. Blood pooled underneath him as he twitched on the ground, the last vestiges of life draining from him.

The lord made a sort of strangled choking noise. You glanced at him. His legs were awkwardly splayed, hands up toward his face. His eyes were huge and horrified. “You- he-”

Okay. First things first. You stepped over the body and held out your unbloodied hand. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you.”

The lord responded much stronger than you thought he would. He grabbed at your hand with both of his, clinging to it with some desperation. “He tried to kill me. He tried to kill me!”

“I know. Come on. Get up.” You gave a gentle tug. He staggered to his hooves. Thankfully he seemed pretty malleable, willing to go in whatever direction you pushed him. You would never have been able to move him if he’d gone slack.

“Where are we going?” he asked. His eyes remained on the corpse no matter where you moved him.

“I can’t move the body on my own. So, unless you want to stay here with it, we’ll need to go outside.” He picked up some speed, scrambling out of the tent. His hooves skidded a little in his haste and you had to brace yourself to support him.

You settled him down by the fire, wrapping blankets around him. He trembled constantly, eyes locked on you as you knelt next to the unconscious guard.

“Is he dead?” the lord asked. You shook your head.

“He’s unconscious. I think the other guard drugged him. That’s probably why he told me to get some sleep. If I’d been asleep, he would have been able to cut off your horn and escape before anyone was the wiser.” You glanced back at the lord. His trembling had increased. “Er. Sorry.” You walked back over to the fire and sat next to him. “When the other guard wakes up, we’ll move the body, get rid of the tent, and keep going.”

The lord shifted his weight. “Thank you for saving me.” His voice was quiet, barely audible over the soft crackling of the fire.

“It’s my job,” you said. After a moment, you added, “but you’re welcome.”

There was silence for a few moments. “What’s your name?” the lord asked.

“Kara.” The lord extended his hand toward you. You moved to shake it, but he took your hand instead and lifted it to his lips. There was a long, breathless moment as his soft lips brushed the skin of your hand.

“Lord Julien Sorrelito. A pleasure.” His voice was warm. You assumed that the tone as was practiced as the words.

Your leg was starting to sting. Without the adrenaline, you were starting to feel the injuries you’d acquired. There was a nasty slash on your calf where the false guard’s serrated knife had caught you as it fell. You probed at it and hissed.

“You’re hurt.” The lord’s voice was surprised and concerned.

“I know. I’ll grab some bandages from my things.” The lord reached up and caught your hand as you started to move away.

“Wait a moment.” He said it with a sigh, like he was annoyed about what he was going to tell you. “Sit down.” You did so, stretching your leg out awkwardly to prevent the wound from pressing into the dirt. Julien shook his hair back and arched his neck. His horn pointed down at your leg. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

There was a glimmer around his horn. The light concentrated itself and flowed away from his horn and down to your leg. There was a sharp tingling feeling around the cut, then your skin rippled. It flowed like a liquid, covering the cut entirely. When the tingling faded, there was no more pain. Your leg was whole.

“You’re kidding,” you said. “You can actually heal?”

“You didn’t think people just made that sort of thing up, did you?” Julien snorted. “We can heal small wounds when they’re still attached. If they’re removed and ground, they can cure illness and poisonings.” He glanced at you. “But don’t tell anyone. We try to keep as quiet as we can.”

“I won’t. You’re paying me well enough for my silence.” Julien nodded, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted. After a moment, his head swayed down, ending up on your shoulder. You stayed still. Gradually, he slipped into a deep sleep.

As it turned out, he drooled in his sleep. It would have been pretty funny if he hadn’t been doing it on your shoulder.

By morning, the other guard was up, albeit with a headache. The two of your cleared out the tent and broke it down. Julien watched, looking dazed. The sun was well over the horizon by the time you were ready to move again. “We’ll need to be fast today,” the guard said. “He’ll probably have had allies who are waiting for him to return. They might come after us.”

Julien seemed much more willing to pick up the pace. He and the guard hurried through the woods, moving at a steady trot. You were much slower. Humans couldn’t move as fast as centaurs at the best of times, and whatever he’d done to your leg last night had really stiffened up the muscle. It was a struggle to keep up.

By midday, you were falling significantly behind. Julien kept pausing to look around at you, face still hidden by his veil.

“Look,” you said. “I can’t keep up. I can fall back a little, see if I can catch up with you later. I’ll engage if I see more poachers.”

Julien’s tail flicked back and forth. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“A bit, I suppose. But what else am I supposed to do? I can’t keep up the pace we need to maintain.”

Julien let out a sigh that made his veil flutter. “You can get on my back.”

There was a long pause. You were pretty sure you’d misheard. “Get on your…?”

“Yes,” he said testily. “Get on. I can probably carry you and it’ll let you keep up with us.”

Most centaurs had complexes about people riding on them, and unicorn centaurs especially so. The guard stared at him incredulously. You stared at him incredulously. “Ah, sir,” the guard cut in. “I could carry her instead.”

Even through the veil, Julien’s glare was obvious. “No,” he said. “I’ll carry her. If you need to fight, you’ll do better at it without someone on your back. And if she’s close to me, she can defend me better.”

The guard looked at you and gave a helpless shrug. Julien bent close to the ground and gave you an expectant look. Hesitantly, you climbed up onto his back. His coat was surprisingly soft and silky, despite being quite short. Julien clambered back to his hooves with a sniff. “Shall we continue?”

He kept up the pace surprisingly well for carrying a whole person on his back. You kept shifting your position, trying to find a good place to put your hands. They ended up at the junction between his torso and horse body. It was a little awkward, but he didn’t say anything. Every now and then, he would press one of his hands to yours, shifting your position to a better one. The touch was always unexpected and it always put your heart in your throat.

You were a little saddle-sore by the time you set up camp again. Without your slow human pace dragging down the speed, you were actually ahead of schedule. It would be your last night on the road. By sundown the next day, you would be at the stronghold.

The guard started patrolling and you brought in dinner for the lord. He was staring at the stained patch of floor where the body had been. Options for cleaning were limited on the road, and attempting to splash the tent with river water hadn’t done as much as you’d hoped.

“Your meal, sir,” you said, offering him the tray. He took it from you, blinking like he was coming out a of a daze.

“Wait,” he said as you turned to leave. “Stay.”

You sat down with him and he offered you a chunk of bread. “I feel that I didn’t properly thank you for yesterday,” he said.

“It’s just my job. Money is payment enough,” you said.

Julien sighed. “I haven’t been terribly good to you,” he said.

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said. Julien frowned at you.

“I am attempting to apologize,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to be attacked during this trip. I thought I would be safe with my own two guards and I was annoyed that there was a human coming along.” He lifted his gaze to yours. “If I hadn’t brought you, I would be dead.”

You weren’t really used to such sincerity just for doing your job. His gaze was surprisingly intense. “Thank you for your apology.”

He nodded, shoulders slumping with relief. “It was quite impressive, the way you took him down.”

“Lots of training,” you said. “I’m sure I could teach you. Self-defense lessons would be quite useful for you.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “I suppose I never expected a beautiful woman to be so skilled at fighting.

You snorted. “Perhaps you should expand your horizons.”

“Only if you’re willing to help me,” Julien said. You blinked at him. Was he flirting? The tone of voice seemed right. Were you supposed to flirt back?

The moment stretched on a little too long, making it into an awkward silence. Julien cleared his throat, shifting his hooves. “If you’d like to spend the night here, I wouldn’t mind.”

You blinked at him. “Really?”

“Well, if you hadn’t been there last night, I would have died. Keeping you with me seems to be a wise move.” He smiled, brushing a lock of white hair away from his face. “And I would imagine it’s more comfortable in there than it is outside.”

“It is,” you agreed. “All right. If you don’t mind.”

You settled down to sleep, pulling your sleeping bag in around you. Julien was lying on his mat, chin dipped to touch his chest. In sleep, he looked like a statue. The peaceful expression of his face, the delicate way his lashes touched his cheeks, the soft, full curve of his lips. He looked like a very lifelike statue. It was surprisingly hard to take your eyes off him.

You didn’t actually end up sleeping in the tent for very long. About midway through the night, you were woken up and took a guard shift. Julien shuffled out of the tent a little after sunrise, yawning and stretching.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“Had to take my shift,” you said.

“You could have stayed and slept. I would have allowed it.” He folded his legs down to sit next to you.

“No. That would have been irresponsible. I’m not going to just let the other guard stand all night because I want a nap.”

Julien lowered his head a little, staring at the ground. “You’re committed to your job.”

“I’m committed to doing a good job. It’s what I’m paid to do. It’s what my reputation is built upon.” You spoke steadily and carefully.

“It’s admirable,” Julien said. “I… admire it.” He got back to his hooves. “Breakfast first, then we should get going, I think?”

You nodded and stood, brushing your hands off. “I’ll get it started.”

Breakfast was hurried. All of you were eager to get back on the road and make it to the stronghold. Luckily, you had enough of a head start that you didn’t need to ride on Julien’s back this time. He trotted carefully next to you the entire time, peeking at you from under his veil.

By the end of the day, the stronghold loomed in front of you. Julien strutted ahead, showing off his horn and papers of lordship and was ushered in with the usual level of respect and groveling. You were ushered off to the small, cozy rooms used for temporary guests. Your payment was handed over and you promptly collapsed into bed, ready to sleep for at least a full day.

Unfortunately, you had barely been out for an hour before someone came knocking at your door. “His Lordship wants to see you,” the messenger told you. Grumbling, you marched to Julien’s room and stepped inside.

“There you are,” he said when you stepped inside. He looked startlingly pretty when he was well taken care of. His hair looked even softer and his white coat seemed to glow. “I expect they’ve made you comfortable here?”

“I would be more comfortable if I could get some rest,” you said. He was not technically your employer any longer, so you could afford to be snarky. Julien’s tail flicked and he glanced at the floor.

“Then I apologize for interrupting you,” he said. “But I had a proposal I thought you would be interested in.”

“Which is?” you said a little testily. Julien stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his body heat.

“You have shown me that I have a great lack of physical fighting skill. And… perhaps my worldview could stand some more expanding. So, I would like to offer you a job. You would train me. Teach me of the world. I think it would be beneficial for both of us.” He smiled, long lashes fluttering. “And I find you admirable and interesting. I would like to spend more time with you.”

You lifted your chin, peering up into his face. There was something a little arrogant in his expression, but also something hopeful, and something wanting. He really wanted you to work with him. A smile teased at your mouth. Hm. That felt nice. To be wanted.

“I suppose I need to stay with you until you get better at self-defense. As you said, without me, you’d certainly be dead.”

Julien grinned. “That’s a yes, then?”

You smiled back, all teeth. “It’s a yes.”

Three Months Later

Your blade clashed with Julien’s. He sprang back and you pushed your advantage. Even after months of working together, he still startled from the impact.

Julien’s hooves skittered across the ground as he backed away. He swung his sword wildly, barely clanging with yours. Sensing weakness, you darted in.

You realized he’d set you up a second too late. Julien dodged your strike and used his superior weight to press you up against the wall. His sword swung up to your throat, tickling your skin.

“Ha!” he said. “My win!”

“Congratulations,” you said. You leaned against the blade, so the tickling became a sting. “Would you like your prize?”

His lips met yours eagerly. You kissed him back until your felt his blade slip from your throat. In a single motion, you knocked it away and lifted your own sword to his neck.

“I didn’t say I yielded,” you said, grinning viciously. Julien lifted his hands, pouting.

“No fair! You just didn’t say it with words.”

You snorted. “All’s fair in love and war.”

Julien laughed low in his throat. “And which one is this?” You pressed your sword a little harder against his throat and he sighed. “And I yield!”

You dropped the blade and moved in. “Bit of both, really.” This time, the kiss had the sweet taste of victory.

#exophilia #centaur #unicorn #monster lover #monster boyfriend #centaur boyfriend #OCxOC #MxF #centaur lover

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harry-styles-sunflower · 4 years ago

Text

Last Christmas

a/n: Pure fluff, some cursing, 3k, thats all :) Please reblog and let me know what you think!

You were walking down the sidewalk holding your trench coat tightly to your body. You made it to Johnny's Club and you pulled the heavy door open.

"Jeez," you sighed. You shook off your coat and walked to the coat room. You hung it up and took your phone out from its pocket. You turned and grabbed one of the aprons and put it on tying a knot behind your back. You slid your phone in one of the pockets and shoved your other two pockets with straws and a towel. You walked down the hallway and then behind the bar.

"Hey Matt," you said as you clocked in to your job.

"Hey y/n, what's up? Cold out?" he asked as he wiped the counter.

"Freezing, it's just going to get worse. How many people have come in?" you faced him.

"About 5 maybe?" he reorganized all the bottles on shelves, "Could have been 4," he shrugged.

"I don’t know why Johnny's making us work tonight, its Christmas Eve. Everyone is either travelling or with their families," you sighed and leaned against the counter.

"Yeah I don't really get it either," he stood next to you.

"At least you get to go home to Abby," you nudge him with your shoulder.

"Wouldn't really want you to be here alone though," he nudged you back.

"I'll be fine, I can hold my own. I'll grab my pepper spray before you go," you grab your towel from your pocket and lightly whip his knee with it.

"Okay," he laughs and goes into the back to do inventory.

Few hours later, Matt was gone and you were bored on your phone. The club was empty and the you played Christmas music through the speakers. You mumbled the lyrics to frosty the snowman and checked the time.

10 PM already. Great. Just 4 more hours. You checked your Twitter and saw people talking about 2016 being "the year" so you got off. Who can predict that stuff anyway. "Do they know its Christmas?" began playing and it was one of your favorites. You grabbed a bottle of bourbon and began using it as a mic.

"Its Christmas time, there's no need to be afraid," you sang. You spun around and lifted your hand up to the sky.

"At Christmas time, we let in light and we banish," when you spun you were shocked to see a male silhouette watching you, so you couldn’t help scream 'Shade'.

"Hi sorry I didn’t see you there," you said quickly.

"Sorry about that," he said as he came more into the light. He had long brown hair, sharp facial features, and bright green eyes.

"It's okay," you turned around to lower the music slightly, "What could I get you to drink?" you turned back around to face him. You placed a napkin in front of him as he shrugged off his coat.

"Um Tequila, with ice," he said slowly. You nodded and got a small glass. You opened the freezer to scoop the ice and when you did you placed the cubes in his cup.

"Brand of choice?" you asked.

"No, surprise me," he smiled. You nodded and poured some 1800. "Thank you," he smiled again.

"No problem," you smiled back. You turned around and pretended to organize the shelf as you watched your customer through the mirror behind the display shelves. He was staring into his drink deep in thought. He had an accent, sounded British. Maybe feeling homesick on a night like this. He took a sip of his drink before pulling his hair up into a bun. You could see his face slightly better and he was handsome. Very handsome. You turned to face him and wiped your hands with your towel.

"Everything okay?" you asked.

"Yes thank you," he looked at you and then around the club, "What did you do to be the only one working tonight?" he grinned.

"Um, not sure honestly. Might've been telling my boss he should've given us a Christmas bonus." you shrugged. He laughed lightly and it was beautiful. Appearance wise and sound wise.

"The performance you were giving when I walked in should count as entertainment so I'd say you deserve the bonus," he smirked behind his glass.

"Thank you," you giggled and then blushed because the giggle was embarrassing.

"Join me for a drink will you?" he bit his lip.

"Um I shouldn't" you shook your head.

"Not even a club soda?" he stirred the liquid in his glass.

"Okay," you grabbed yourself a glass and poured some seltzer inside. You walked in front of the bar and settled on a stool next to him.

"So.. You're obviously not originally from New York, but is it your home?"

"Um no, I'm on break and I thought Christmas in New York could be fun to do alone after 5 years of not being alone. But it's actually very lonely," he takes a swig of his drink and you watched him as he spoke. The way his lips pursed with certain words and the way his face scrunched slightly at the burn of the tequila.

"Did you just get out of a relationship or something?" you ask. He turns his stool to face you with his eyebrows furrowed. It was as if the wheels in his head were turning behind his green eyes. You had no idea who he was or you were a great actress.

"Harry," he stuck his hand out for you to shake, "and no, no relationship. I spent five years working and now I am on uh sabbatical," he smiled charmingly. You shook his hand and nodded along to his words.

"I'm y/n," you smiled.

It was nearing 11:30 PM and you were laughing so hard you were tearing up.

"Okay okay, what does a dentist do when he gets on a rollercoaster?" you asked him.

"What?" he giggled.

"He braces himself!" you burst into laughter and so does Harry.

"Wait wait, doesn't an orthodontist deal with braces?" you stopped suddenly and put on your best poker face. He cracked a smile and you couldn’t help it. You broke one too. Jingle Bell Rock came on and you couldn’t help but get up and go to the dance floor.

"Come on, come here!" you grabbed his hand and pulled him off his stool. "Do you know the mean girls dance?"

"Barely, it goes like this?" he put his hand up and swung his hips dramatically. You laughed and sang along to the song.

"Don't forget to slap your thighs," you show him and he copies your move. The song soon ends and you hear the familiar tune of 'Last Christmas'.

"I love this song, it's my favorite, you whispered.

"Would you like to dance?" he offered his hand. You looked at his long slender fingers that were covered by a few rings. You took his hand and he pulled you closer. He placed his hand on the small of your back.

Ah, aha

Ooh

"I like your rings," you say as you look over at your hand in his.

"Want one?"

"Do you just give your rings out to anyone like that?" you laughed lightly.

"No, but you’ve been very kind to me tonight. You can take it as a Christmas present," you nodded along and continued dancing to the music.

Once bitten and twice shy

I keep my distance

But you still catch my eye

Tell me, baby

Do you recognize me?

You could hear him singing the music quietly. You detach your hand from his and intertwine your own behind his neck.

"You have a nice voice," you tell him.

"Funny you say that," he smiles. His dimples were very cute.

"Funny how?" you ask.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "I didn’t think this was how I was going to spend my Christmas Eve but I'm glad I am," he said. You tried to hide your blush and you mumbled a 'me too'.

Face on a lover with a fire in his heart (I gave you my heart)

A man under cover but you tore him apart

Maybe next year, I'll give it to someone

I'll give it to someone special (special, someone)

The song ended and you looked up at him. His face was only inches away from yours and you could feel his breath fan your face. You both leaned in but jumped back when Usher's 'Yeah!' came on. You ran your fingers through your hair with one hand and placed your hand over your heart with your other.

"Sorry," you laughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm not," you felt his hands grab the sides of your cheeks and his lips on yours. You kissed him back and placed your hands over his lightly. When he pulled away, you had a blissful smile on your lips.

"I'll take your 'peace' ring," you smile. He kissed you again and smiled into the kiss.

"Here you go," he slid the ring off his finger and put it in your palm.

"Thanks," you held it in between your forefinger and thumb. You slid it onto your thumb, the only finger it fit. His phone began ringing and he excused himself to answer. From what you could hear he was speaking to someone named Jeff and he was late to a party. You cleaned up the bar and put the glasses away. When he hung up the phone, he walked over to the bar with a guilty look on his face.

"So my boss wants me to go to his Christmas party," he frowned.

"Oh, okay. Have fun," you smiled. Fake smiled to be exact. You didn’t want him to go just yet.

"Can I get your number? Call you sometime maybe?" he asked and your heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah! I mean yeah sure," you shrugged. He walked behind the bar and lifted your chin with his finger.

"No need to try and play it cool," he kissed your forehead. You looked down and blushed. You grabbed a napkin and wrote your number on it as he put his coat on. You walked over when you finished writing on it and tucked into his coat's pocket.

"Thank you for my present, my number will be your present," you giggled.

"Sounds lovely," he kissed your lips before leaving. You sighed and wiped down the bar before closing up. Hopefully you could make up an hour another day, you needed to go home and close early.

After Harry left the bar and waited for a taxi, a man next to him sneezed into his hands.

"Damn allergies," he said.

"I know the feeling mate," Harry replied. The man sneezed again, this time in need of a tissue.

"Here mate," he handed him the napkin he felt in his pocket. Without a second thought. That was the kind of person Harry was.

"Thank you," he said before Harry caught a cab and got in. When he reached into his pocket to get your number the realization hit that he gave the napkin to the man. When he called the bar with the number he found on Google it said the bar was now closed.

"Fuck!" you yell at your rental car. You were currently at a gas station or as the English say, 'the petro station,' and you were trying to refill a tire. But it kept emptying. You were the only one at the gas station until a black Range Rover joined you. You decided to travel to England for the holidays since your family decided to vacation to China without you. You were getting cold and it was Christmas eve. You just wanted to get back to the small cottage you were staying in. You walked into the shop and headed for the snack aisle. The end of 'santa baby' played over the speakers in the store. You surfed the options on the shelves and grabbed a few chips (crisps) and searched for some sweets. Next song to play was 'last Christmas' and you accidentally groaned aloud. The song had been ruined for you ever since you met Harry 5 years ago and he never called. Typical musician which you came to find out. The guy behind you laughed lightly before speaking,

"Don't like this song?" he asked. You turned around with your snacks in hand.

"Bad memory goes a long with it," when the man turns around your shocked to see who it is and he's just as shocked to see you.

"YOU!" you practically yell.

"Let me I can explain," he holds his hands up in defense.

"I don’t want one!" you walk away.

"Wait! Please, I promise I'll tell you the truth." he says. Okay realistically you had no where to go before the tow truck came.

"Fine," you cross your arms.

"Well I can't believe our paths have crossed again," he smiles. You don’t. "Um well okay. So after I left that night, I accidentally gave this guy my napkin because he sneezed and I realized too late. I know it's a rubbish excuse but it’s the truth. Oh I also tried calling the bar that night and you already had closed and then when I called again the person on the phone said you were busy and I just didn't know if that was an excuse or not. I guess you've figured out who I am by now too.." he drifted off.

"I do and your excuse sounds very unrealistic," you sigh.

"It's the truth, pinky promise," he holds a pinky up. You squint your eyes at him before joining your pinky with his and huffing 'fine'.

"How come you're in England?"

"Vacationing," you stare at him slightly. "You cut your hair," you remembered it was long last time you saw each other. He ran his hand through his shorter curls and nodded.

"Yeah um cut it a few months after we met, would you want to grab a bite?" he pinched his lip between his fingers. He was still handsome as ever.

"Okay, my car actually has a flat tire.."

"We’ll use my car," he smiled at you.

When you got to his car it smelled like him. You felt slightly uncomfortable with this blast of the past coming back into your life. Especially so handsome. He began driving on a road you’ve never been on and you watched the houses pass through your window.

"So, you must know everything now," he sighed, "I enjoyed that you didn’t," he drove with one hand, his left entangled in his hair.

"That's a full of it assumption. I've heard your music and that you went out with Camille Rowe that’s all," you shrugged, "I can't believe you were in this famous pop band for 5 years and I had no clue," you laughed.

"So maybe not everything..good," you noticed he was hiding a smile. Or at least trying to. He kept driving for about a half hour before pulling into a driveway.

"Um you said we were going to grab a bite?"

"It's Christmas Eve everything is closed, I promise I'm not going to kill you," he smiled.

"Very convincing," you sighed. You stepped out of the car and followed him up the steps to his house.

"Fancy a grilled cheese?" he looked behind his shoulder and grinned.

"Sure," you took off your shoes and followed him to his kitchen. His house was huge but neat. It was modern and very bachelor like. Yet cozy and warm. You settled on one of his stools at his kitchen counter while he turned on the fireplace. When he made his way over to his stove and heated up a pan, he grabbed the bread bag and pulled 4 slices.

"So catch me up," he smiled.

"Um well. I've been working. Running an Etsy shop. Just made custom sweaters and such.. I quit the club a few months after we met. Found out I kissed Harry Styles. Otherwise I lead a very boring life.” You laugh.

“I did think of you these past 5 years, don’t think I didn’t. I wondered what you were doing and if you were okay. If you had found out who I was. If you’d come to one of my shows,” he said as he cooked.

"I didn’t think you thought that way of me," you say honestly.

"I did, still do. I've had a 5 year long crush," he blushes. You shake your head and call bs on his claim.

"It’s the truth. But I'm glad to know you don’t feel the same," he sighed before serving you your sandwich. You got up and walked around his counter and watched as he moved to grab you a cup.

"Who said I didn't still have a crush? I still have your ring in my jewelry box crying out loud," you laughed and rubbed your head embarrassed.

"You do?" he smiled brightly. You nodded and walked towards him. You pulled him by the end of his shirt and grabbed his cheeks to pull him down for a kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist lifting you off your feet. You wrapped your legs around his waist before he placed you on the counter. You kissed him for a bit more before pulling away.

"I am hungry though," he laughed and his breath hit your face in a familiar way that made you smile.

"Okay," he kissed your cheek before handing you your plate and smiled as he saw your eyes widen once you took a bite.

LETS TALK ABOUT IT :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #one direction #one direction fanfiction #my writing #pls reblog #talk to me about it :)

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

The Smiths

The biggest reason for young hybrids to aspire to attend Cassell College was to find their soulmate, the person who was like them, both in pedigree and in riches. Before classes start, the men have checked out the ladies and the ladies have checked out the men. Identifying the highest ranked students in class narrowed down the candidates, with the highest ranking male students coming out of the 3E being the prized stallions with the lowest rankings hoping to find something in the scraps left behind.

The Smith sisters were no different. Not only with spotless pedigrees, they had hefty bank accounts. In their early twenties, they were already accomplished business women, each one running their own real estate business, but not in housing, but in farmland. Each one of these women owned hundreds of acres where they grew maize which they traded to great success on the commodities market. To them, some rich city boy would likely not understand the importance of their business, thinking farming was a humble dirty practice. But the women, especially Celeste, understood that women like them were the ones who filled their rich bellies at night.

Now they had come out as Rank A and were fortunately seated next to the Rank S of the class on day one. Of course, they were going to plant their flags immediately next to him. But if the poor leftover stallions of Cassell College thought that they were going to hopefully go after two other sisters as scraps, they were sadly mistaken. There were no ‘scraps’ among the Smith Sisters.

“There! That’s the last of it!” Porsche slapped her hands together as she finished moving the last of three boxes that held Tigre’s meager belongings into his new room. He’d been living in the hospital for so long, but now his one bedroom was larger than even that. It was a spacious open plan with large windows and its own bathroom with a jacuzzi tub. Their dorm was located on the top floor of the newest dormitory building on campus.

At the first floor was the lobby and recreation area that included its own indoor pool and sauna, huge exercise room with state of the art equipment and a small theater to watch movies. There were arcades full of video game cabinets, ping pong and pool tables, and air hockey machines. There was even a salon and massage parlor. The building sat on a biking and walking trail and was quite near the library.

Porsche sat next to him on the king-size bed and handed him his tablet. “This is the college class registration portal where you choose your classes for the year. You have advanced classes because of your rank where you get the best teachers on any subject so pick whatever you like. First, you have to decide on your major.” She looked up at him with big bright brown eyes.

Tigre felt his heart suddenly skip a beat looking into those eyes, their delicately curling lashes, the rise and fall of her cheekbones. Her skin was perfect, smooth, and even. A rich shade of mahogany. “Major?”

“The direction of your study. You can’t just study everything. You have to pick a specific subject to pursue. You can change it later, but… it will just take you that much longer to graduate.”

Her fingers were topped with French manicures as she swept down to the Majors list. “Pick one.”

There were majors in Theology, Engineering, Chemistry, Alchemy… Tigre sighed. He didn’t know what many of these meant. “Is there one that has to do with fighting?”

He just remembered his vision had a lot of depictions of war. That was what dragons were known for and that’s what he wanted to be, a warrior, like a dragon.

“Fighting? So… you want to major in Martial Arts?” Porsche pulled her face into different surprised expressions. “Alright then. These will be your classes.” She tapped her finger on the screen.

“Taijiquan, Physical Education, Kendo, Tae Kwon Do, Brazilian Jujistu, Muy Tai…” She listed them off.

He didn’t know what any of these meant! “Yeah.” He said. “Sign me up for those.”

She laughed once. “You can’t take them all at once. They limit Phys Ed to four per year, so you can have energy for your core classes and not hurt yourself. So pick four.”

He had questions about each one but he figured it wouldn’t matter. He just picked the first four off the list.

“Okay then you have Battlefield training level 1 that all Cassell students have to attend here…” She ticked that off. “And then there’s your core classes. Right here.”

“Core Classes?” He asked, shocked. This was really adding up!

She looked at him reproachfully. “You can’t just join Cassell and be a meathead. You’ll be taking Norse Mythology 101, Dragon Lineages 101, and Alchemy 101.” She made a few more taps of her fingers and suddenly his schedule was lined up neatly in blocks of time on a calendar. “You’re kind of spacy so we’ll need to set some reminders.”

She now took the tablet completely out of his hands.

“Spacy?”

“It means you don’t keep track of things well.” She didn’t look up from the tablet. “You have to be reminded or you won’t do what you need to do or you’ll get overwhelmed and forget.”

“That’s true…” He admitted softly. After all, Toyama had to remind him to brush his teeth. How was he going to keep up with all of this?

She rewarded him with a smile. “Wisdom is with the modest!”

“Porsche…? What’s your major?” He asked her in a meek tone.

“I’m going into Dragon Physiology.” She said easily.

“Fizzy… ology…?”

“I study Dragon bodies.” She hands him back the tablet. “Okay, we’ll be going once we all change.”

“Where are we going?” He looks down at the tablet but she’d set the lock screen back on.

“Shopping, you need clothes and,” She stood up and paused to look him up and down “...a lot more stuff for classes and going out et cetera. Plus, we’re having a party tonight to celebrate our win.”

“We are?” Tigre said, amazed.

“Yep. We are.” Porsche sighed, wearily. “Ahhh… it’s so tiring, to be having to help you like this. So don’t make things difficult. We’re doing you a favor to help you out so you don’t get lost. Be sure to clean up after yourself and do what we ask alright?”

“Oh, of course! I really appreciate your help!” Tigre nodded earnestly.

She gave him an approving nod. “Good. I’ll be back in a bit.”

A grown man sharing a dorm with three rich single women would raise anyone’s eyebrows, but Tigre walked out of the building with them, not having much of a choice. The girls stepped into a sun that flashed off their ebony skin and crystalline handbags, in midriff baring blouses with low shoulders and jean shorts cut above their thighs. “You have a very hefty stipend but you’ve never touched money before so I’ll hold on to it for you.” Celeste says taking his Student ID card from him. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Oh… okay. Thank you!” Tigre nodded.

Ruby glanced over and frowned. “It’s still his money…”

“He’s just going to waste it on something stupid because he doesn’t know what he needs.” Celeste shrugged. “You know how it is with people who get a lot of money after never having any. We, on the other hand, actually know what to do with it.”

A sleek dark blue Miata was parked in front of the building and they opened the door and got in.

“You do know about seatbelts right?” Porsche smiled as she got into the passenger side.

Before Tigre could answer, he was startled when the whole roof of the car started folding back! Ruby giggled behind her hand. Tigre returned her smile.

“If there’s something you want just ask for it.” Ruby said.

The engine roared to life and the three of them took off, weaving through the shining spires of Chicago. The sweet tones of R&B music played on the radio and Tigre stared upwards up the skyscrapers. The three girls put on dark glasses against the sunlight, their hair blowing in the wind.

They pulled up to a red light and idled.

“Hey girls! Got any room for me?” A voice shouted from the corner of the street. A man in a basketball jersey whistled from a jeep.

The girls paid him no mind.

“Oh come on, don’t be that way!”

The three girls all looked at each other in unison and then the light turned green and the car sped off.

“Does this happen a lot?” Tigre glanced behind him.

“All the time, honey. Get used to it.” Porsche lowered her glasses at him. “ You’re the luckiest guy in the world. Look at where you are. You’re in a car full of cute girls on a bright late summer day! What do you think is going to happen? Everyone wants to be you right now.”

“Don’t give him a big head.” Celeste rested her arm on the steering wheel. “I like him the way he is. Too many guys out there just think they’re entitled to our attention. We’re the ones who choose who we want. Has nothing to do with ‘luck’. We’re all the ‘luck’ he needs.” She looked into the rear view mirror. “You just sit back and relax and don’t mind the peanut gallery.”

They pulled into an upscale mall and walked in empty handed and walked out carrying three multicolored and multi sized bags on each arm. When they got back to the dorm, they started decorating with balloons and banners and bright lights. Bottles of alcohol were lined up on a minibar and glasses were arranged on the table.

These girls didn’t cook, they ordered food from the cafeteria to have it catered.

Ruby leaned over and turned up the heavy bass music and clapped her hands dancing in the middle of the living room. She grinned at Tigre and invited him to dance with her. He had no idea what to do but she encouraged him to ‘move to the beat’.

“By the way. Clubs. We’re joining Lionheart.” Celeste suddenly announced from the kitchen.

Tigre stopped mid-groove, hands awkwardly in the air. “We are?”

“Yeah, the people in Student Union are all uppity idiots that need to be taken down a peg. Senior Lu Mingfei is nice enough, but god, the people around him? Gag me. They’re entrenched in their stupid Euro-centric views and have no idea how the world works. But we have the other Rank S. And that’s gonna burn ‘em good.” Celeste crossed her arms. “That means we’ll be able to rise up the ranks pretty quick. It’s a sure win. There’s not enough people in Lionheart who can compete with us.”

She rolled her eyes at Tigre's stunned expression. “I’ll spell it out for you. You saw that fool, Robert. He walked right up to you as assumed you were going to want to lead Lionheart, all the while ignoring the triple threat sitting right in front of him. You’re not the one who is going to lead Lionheart. We are!”

Sure enough, a few hours later, the dorm was full of Lionheart members.

#Dragon Raja

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hyunhour · 4 years ago

Text

i’ll love you from the stars ] [ hyunjin au

a/n: soppy love story yet again. i think people don’t realize how often unrequited love occurs, no matter how small or big your crush is. it’s pretty damn normal. so don’t stress over it babies! you’ll be fine with or without them. this is for fictional purposes only! <3

heartthrob!hyunjin, student!hyunjin, fem!reader, highschool au, highschool crush, class clown hyunjin owowowow, unrequited love

tw: self harm, angst, hyunjin lowkey being a dumb asshole

word count: 1.3k

you didn’t ask to fall in love with the most unattainable man in school. but you also can’t stop it just like that either. especially when it’s hwang hyunjin.

—

You’ve had the biggest crush on Hyunjin for a year now. One that you’ve been suppressing for a long time, behind fake smiles and all. He has been one of your close friends since the beginning of the year and your heart still flutters each time you reminisce the first few moments of meeting him.

This boy was never punctual. He’d always never fail, to make a grand entrance to the classroom each morning. Always at least five minutes late; but never going past that, as if it made things any better. He’d swagger into the classroom, his signature smirk plastered onto his sickly good-looking face, and his letterman jacket that he hangs over his shoulder proudly. Typical jock habits, you assume. Not that you would complain, he looked exceptionally hot with or without it—no matter how cliché it was.

Today was no different. Except he was more than five minutes late. Thirty to be exact. He staggered in, beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his washed out face. Colour drained from his usually tan face, veins bulging prominently at his neck and he was breathing sporadically. You took notice of all of that the moment he stepped foot into the dead classroom.

All of a sudden, the previously dead classroom roared to life. They loved how easily he could upturn the atmosphere of the class simply by his presence. Some of the boys exchanged handshakes with him and of course he never forgot to flaunt his stupid smile at the ladies; not knowing what a big deal it is to them. “Hwang Hyunjin, never disappointing.” you hear Jisung, seated in front of you, laugh at him.

You tick the checkbox next to his name. Sure enough, Hyunjin had reached the maximum amount of late arrival to class for the whole semester. You wondered how he did it just in time, unironically enough; on the last day of school. Grand entrance and a grand exit as well.

“Hyunjin? Really? Last day of school and you couldn’t–“ the teacher shuffled the papers before him, shaking his head. He heaved a sigh before dismissing Hyunjin off with a wave of his hand, causing Hyunjin’s grin to spread wider across his face.

He neared you, his eyes locking with yours as he makes his way past tables. “It wasn’t on purpose, I swear.” you watch him speak in a hushed tone, only able to tell what he was saying but the small movements of his plump lips. Ah, those plump pink–

You wanted to slap yourself for almost letting those intrusive thoughts in again.

Once he was near enough to you, slipping into the seat beside you, you simply replied with a hint of sarcasm, “We believe you.”

He only rolls his eyes at this, putting air quotes up with his fingers as he mocks you for saying that. You barely managed to suppress the giggle that threatened to fall past your lips. The classroom was still as hectic as ever since Hyunjin’s entrance. They chattered endlessly about how they couldn’t believe that Hyunjin managed to defy teachers and the disciplinary actions they issued him with. It really isn’t anything to be proud of but nothing could keep him in check. As if his ignorant attitude wasn’t bad enough, you found yourself attracted to his confidence instead of feeling repelled.

“I didn’t miss much did I, princess?” he whispers, cupping his hands right next to your ear as he leans in. You shudder at the close contact with him, pulling away slightly. He cocks one of his eyebrows at this. “Keep your distance boy, and I told you not to call me that.” you chided, putting a palm out in front of him.

He shrinks into his seat, shoulders slumped. “You don’t like that?” he pouts as he says it. He could never be more wrong than this. You loved it. You loved being called such a pretty name, and by a pretty boy at that. “Yeah, I hate it.” you said flatly, turning your attention back to class.

You hear him whine under his breath, throwing a silent tantrum. And you can’t help as the corners of your lips tug upwards at this. As much as everyone recognized him to be some sort of badass boy, all he really was was a child who craved every bit of attention that he was starved off since young. He was an only child, always home alone with his babysitter, parents too busy for him in general. You didn’t mind being the one person who could give him that. You loved his pestering, but you could never let your egoistic self admit it to him.

“You’re a bitch.” he scoffs, and you nudge his arm as hard as you can before retreating it to the table as quickly as you could. “Watch your mouth, little boy.” you tease on.

He huffs out a puff of annoyance, before nudging your knee with his under the table, manspreading as wide as he could. Your legs clamped tightly together because of the strength he put into his leg that leaned against yours. You turn to face him, ready to fling at him another unneeded crude remark. Only for you to be caught off guard by the sight before you.

Hyunjin had his arms crossed on the table, his head resting atop of it. He was already looking up at you, eyes boring into your wavering ones. And you wanted to stab the butterflies in your stomach that had begun to swarm. You could feel your face going flush as heat rises to your cheeks. Your heartbeat quickens, going at an abnormal rate as you notice that he hadn’t bothered to look away even after you caught him staring.

You watch as his light brown orbs dart from each facial feature of yours; from your eyes, to your nose and down to the top of your lip. You felt small under his watchful eyes. But in the small moment where you and him examined each other, you took the time to relish in his beauty.

From his jet black hair that was turning into a mullet and his shaggy black bangs that fell nicely at his stupidly perfect brows. Only he could rock that kind of hair, you thought. His eyelashes that lightly touched the top of his cheeks each time he fluttered his eyes shut. The beauty mark that sat cutely below his left eye, his straight and rounded nose and–

Those lips. A pretty shade of pink tainted his plump lips. The lines that creased his lips were faint, all they were were smooth and, you wished to touch them. Feel the silkness of it all under your fingertips, or your lips. It didn’t matter. You simply wanted to embrace the entirety of his beauty.

You felt giddy looking at him this way. Deluded, that was it too. Although he was so close to you, being able to obtain that sort of affection from him was an impossibility that was well out of your reach. His beauty was unmatched for.

The both of you remained still like that. You looking down at him as he laid comfortably above the table. The sunlight behind you casting shadows around his chiselled features, cascading onto the whole of his face and making him look as ethereal as ever. What a sunshine, you thought. You wonder how many other people had taken time to appreciate him.

Not just for his appearance, but just everything about him. The charming personality that he hid behind the tough boy facadę he put on for others to see. Only you managed to see through it, and only you were allowed to see it. He no longer held that dark gaze, the stupid smirk; he looked so vulnerable in front of you like this. His usual tense muscles relax in front of you, slow blinking and steady breathing. He was a simple boy, who couldn’t be understood by anyone else but you.

His eyes softening as it meets yours once again, blinking once and twice. His lips that break into a gingerly smile, his teeth barely showing. His eyes practically disappearing into crescent-moons as he smiles wider, smiling so far that it stretches from ear to ear.

“Why are you looking at me?” he narrows his eyebrows, tilting his head. You’re taken aback by this. Sure, you had expected this moment to end sooner or later, but that didn’t mean you were prepared for its end either.

“Why are you looking at me?” you press on, not giving in to him. He rolls his eyes at this. The both of you locked eyes again, before bursting into fits of laughter the very next second.

“Y/N and Hyunjin, would you like to share what has got you guys laughing in the middle of my lesson?” the teacher remarked crudely, folding his arms together around his chest.

“No sir!” Hyunjin salutes the man, jolting upright. It only has the rest of the class gregariously laughing, the girls simply in awe of Hyunjin while the guys just cheer him on. He had so much influence and power over everyone.

The teacher simply sneered, mumbling incoherent under his breath before Hyunjin slumps back into his seat. “He’s just jealous of us.” Hyunjin says in a hushed voice. You halt all movements, your grip on your pen tightening, making your knuckles turn white as your nails dig into your palms.

“Of us?” you repeat, not looking up at him. Your eyes were glued onto the sheet of paper on the table. You hear him shuffling closer to you by moving his chair. “Yeah, us. He probably doesn’t have any friends. Poor guy,” Hyunjin sighs, shaking his head. He outstretches his legs underneath the table, extending his long arms over the table before plopping his upper torso comfortably on it as well.

Friends. Yes, that’s what you and Hyunjin are. And it has always been that way. You force a smile onto your face, faking smiles has always been easy, but not now. Right now, it hurt like hell. You could even feel your eyes throbbing at the brimming of tears. But you had to hold it back. You have to.

Time whizzed by so fast. You released the grip on your pen after a long time of jotting down notes non-stop, leaving your hand aching. And your palms. You opened your clammy hands, only to reveal the crescent-moon shaped slits, raw and pink. You hadn’t realized how long you had been digging into your palms—sinking the edges of your nails into the fragile skin. Too long. Spots of blood surfaced to the torn skin.

Your breathing quickened, and just like that, the tears made their return as they well up in the corners of your eyes. The only way to keep you in check with reality had been this, for a long time; ignoring the feelings of unrequited love. Being with Hyunjin was just that, a dream, and it will never be your reality.

Someone else already lived that reality with him.

“Hyunjin!” chirped someone from the doorway of the classroom as if on cue. It was clear and distinct, partly because you knew she was going to come, ready to snag Hyunjin away. The rest of the class filed out and within seconds, the only people remaining was you, Hyunjin and her.

You hear the obnoxious clicking of heels against the tiles, and it nears you fast. Before you knew it, you looked up to see the owner of those garish pink heels, and sure enough it was her, Hyunjin’s long-term girlfriend.

“Let’s go, babe. We don’t wanna be late to meet my parents,” she gloated, her eyes glued onto the boy next to you, not bothering to even steal a glance at you. It wasn’t worth her time anyway.

Hyunjin shifted uncomfortably in his seat before sweeping in all of his stuff into his bag, slinging the straps of it over his shoulders hastily. “R-Right! Let’s go! I was so nervous, I must have forgotten about it.” Hyunjin blabbered, and she only raised one of her eyebrows as if in doubt of his words. “I’ll meet you outside baby,” he says, before leaning into her over the table.

There it was. The sickening sound of their lips moulding perfectly against each other. You can even see the string of saliva that connected them both. You winced at the awful sight, disgust forming a pit in your stomach. And you wanted it to swallow you whole, perhaps somewhere far away from the lovebirds.

She simply nods in return, turning on her heels and making her exit elegantly. Hyunjin’s eyes never leaves her until she’s fully out of sight. With that, he turns to look at you. And all he feels is guilt, gnawing from the inside of his heart. For what? He doesn’t completely know why either, and he doesn’t plan on finding it out anytime soon.

You broke the deafening silence that formed between the two of you, “So.. meeting her parents already, huh?” you reiterate as you got out of your seat, pushing the chair in ever so slowly. His breath hitched, and you can see his prominent adam’s apple bob before he replies, “Yup. Think it’s about time,” he breaks into smile, in an attempt to relax that stiff face he had on.

“Close to a year, isn’t it?” you muster enough courage to lock your eyes with him, and he does the same. None of you had your eyes wavering like the previous time.

“Yup.”

“That’s good. Good for you, and her of course.”

“...Yup.”

There it was again, the silence that pierced through your ears. It was painful, but it didn’t hurt as much as this moment. So that small form of affection from him just now was temporary, just a fleeting moment, for you to cherish alone and for him to forget.

“I wish you the best.”

“Yup–“ he paused, eyes widening when he realizes his fixated replies weren’t suitable anymore. “Fuck, hah. Thank you,” he grimaces, scratching the back of his neck.

“You know, I like us.” you barely manage to smile. He tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Us.” you gesture, pointing to him then you. “Friends. Good friends.” you finish quickly, and you can feel the sides of your your lips trembling from the forced smile.

His lips part agape, closing once before opening again. Nothing leaves those pretty lips, and you simply watch it, waiting for something or anything really. “Me too. I like us.” he says.

“You do?”

“Definitely.”

“I–“ you weren’t sure when the tears subsided moments ago, but this time it wasn’t tears, just the insides of you surging with pure sadness. It almost seemed like the melancholy mood that had just been formed, hanged in the form of a dark gloomy cloud right above the both of you, dimming everything down. Everything seemed so bleak. The sunshine from before vanishing completely.

Your head was swarmed with regrets. And somewhere, some small part of you hoped he had felt the same way. There was this insatiable fire that ate away at your plummeting heart the longer you looked at him, the pain of it all was overbearing. You feel as though the fiery hot anger and sadness could burn through your skin, and tear you apart bit by bit. You didn’t know when it had started physically hurting; loving him.

His hands finds yours, the ones clenched in fists by your sides. Slowly, he pries open each fist, peeling each finger away from your palm. And at first, it didn’t hit you. But when the realization kicked in, all hatred towards him dissolved into nothingness. He knew. He knew all along.

He ran his slender fingers across the lines of your palms, ghosting over the newly formed cuts, still raw as ever. And a tear rolls down his cheek. Soon, more tears burst forth like water from a dam, and it spilled all over his pretty face. “Don’t do this to your pretty hands.” he says softly, eyes still trained onto your palm.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks.

Loving him? Yes it does. It hurts like hell. So you nod.

“That’s why you shouldn’t do it, silly.”

But loving him had been one of the best things that ever happened to you. Even though it stinged, it still brought so much good to you. The way he lit up everything around you, colouring your mundane life. He was your rainbow after the rain, your anchor in the harshest of waves, and most of all, he was your perfect imperfect Hyunjin. Not just someone who was born perfect with good looks and a cocky attitude. He was a boy who just wanted to be loved and cared for, a child who seeked affection constantly, and carried out rebellious acts in order to capture attention—of anyone really. You understood him. Why couldn’t he understand you?

“I care for you, Y/N.” he looks up at you, caressing the sides of your face and bringing your hands to cup his.

That wasn’t what you wanted to hear. He steadied your tremulous hands, guiding them to his hair so you could thread through them. So you did, really just anything that could distract you.

“I’m always here.”

A lie. You can see right through it.

You don’t say anything. Mostly because you weren’t sure of what to say. You don’t know what to expect of him; the extent of his caring actions. He has a girlfriend, his top priority. You were just a friend, a measly one at that. You were nowhere the top of that list. But he was yours.

“Go home safely, okay?” he breaks into a smile, tussling the top of your hair gingerly. “Text me when you do. I’ll see you tomorrow, princess.” he retracts your hands from his hair, before backing away slowly and waving goodbye to you.

At this point, you were too tired. Too tired to wave goodbye back. Too tired to say anything. Too tired of everything. So you stood rooted to the ground, hands falling to your sides before clenching into fists once again.

You watch as he disappear from your line of sight. And suddenly you feel as though the empty and dark classroom was beginning to engulf you whole. It felt suffocating to be without him, unironically.

If he was the sun, emitting the brightest rays of love in the day, then you were the star in the night. The star that would never be in the same space and time with the sun, the sun that always dips below the horizon before you even get to show in time to meet him. Show him how good you are to him, show him how at times, you can be better than you are in the day; barely noticeable and shy.

You two were never meant to cross paths with each other. Maybe in another universe where the sun and stars of the night align together.

For now, you’d just love him from the stars.

33 notes · View notes

hitsuackerman · 4 years ago

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.8

Part 8 of WINTW? :D Enjoy!

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 9

The next match went by smoothly. They had lost to the opponent but they were all light hearted about it. Knowing the consequences, Akaashi gave the signal to begin the lap of diving. With a gym this large, that had to be tiring. They weren't complaining though. You had to remind yourself from time to time that this powerhouse school has reached nationals thrice.

Checking the data you recorded, Yukie, Kaori, and you began to compare notes.

"Bokuto-san has been using his straights a little more than usual." Kaori commented. "Probably wants to polish it or he's just warming up for the day."

"Haruki-san managed to save 80% of the balls for his 4th consecutive game. Better than last time." Yukie added.

"Washio-san managed to block all of the balls or one touched them." You inserted. Amazed at how this silent player was stronger than you'd estimated. Silent people really were deadly.

"Akaashi-san did exceptionally well in the last match." Yukie said. "He's getting used to the other's preferred distances and height now. Analytical skills still as sharp as ever, too."

Feeling proud of that compliment, you silently smiled to yourself. Being in class 6 also meant that your grades had to be maintained in every aspect. Akaashi can do all of those with being a vice captain and Bokuto’s close friend with such ease. Scribbling down a few notes, you stopped and tried to grab the notebook from Yukie.

“Well, well, well~” She lazily teased. “Are you sure you were jotting down their shots or Akaashi-san’s alone?”

“You scribbled his name in different styles as well~” She added once she was by Yukie’s side. Giggling at the 5 different fonts of ‘Akaashi’. “You’re safe for now, little one. But, later before we sleep, better prepare for a little game of truth or dare with the other managers!”

“No escaping.”

A little scared of how serious Yukie was, you nodded and accepted the notebook. Holding it close to your chest, you held onto it like there was no tomorrow. Following the two of them, you found yourself cutting some watermelons

"You're the new trainee, right?" Shinzen's manager asked as she too sliced some watermelons and placed them on a tray. "I'm Mako, by the way."

"(l/n)." You slightly bowed.

"You handle the men really well!" She complimented you. Her light brown eyes focused on half of the fruit. "When I was new, it took a while to get used to such a diverse pack of personalities. It did help that they're soft idiots underneath the rough appearances."

"I'll have to agree." Taking a small piece of watermelon, you savored the refreshing sweetness. "Especially when Bokuto-san goes emo mode, Akaashi really manages to work and balance things out. With the groups effort too, of course."

"Anyway, I'll be seeing you later in our girl's night~" Grabbing the plate, you followed her and walked with a plate full of heavy fruit.

Along with Yukie, the three of you headed to the gym. Finding the boys playing with Karasuno, you couldn't help but feel happy when all the boys looked extra excited for the small sponsored snack. Few moments later, a small watermelon seed spitting contest had begun.

By the corner, you took out your phone to text o-mother. She wanted updates regarding the training and just didn't want to feel lonely while you were hours away. Just as you sent the text, yet another familiar voice made its presence known.

"Uh, are there still any watermelons left?"

Iida? That voice was Iida's. Turning around, you were met with Karasuno's setter. His face showed surprise at the sudden action. What were you hoping for? Of course that wasn't your close friend. Instead you were met with softer features but the similar shade of blue eyes made it feel a bit less lonely.

"I think there's still some by Nekoma's area." You finally replied.

"KAGEYAMA!" The small player whose name you recalled due to Bokuto's stories in the bus, suddenly appeared with light jumping steps. "Ah! That's why you went missing! You're sneaking out to talk to girls!"

"HINATA! YOU IDIOT!" Kageyama slapped Hinata only to have himself being hit as well. " I was just asking her if there were any more watermelons left!"

"Heee~ You could've just went to Nekoma's area instead of asking Fukurodani's manager!" He stuck his tongue out and the fight continued.

In some strange way, the two of them reminded you of Todoroki and Deku.

"OI! KAGEYAMA! SHOYO!" Another familiar voice came running to break the fight. A bit smaller than Hinata, you felt chills down your spine when you realized whose voice you heard. "THAT'S NOT HOW TO ACT WHEN YOUR TALKING TO LADIES!"

Bakugo?? It was weird. Having to hear such familiar voices with different faces holding them.

"Nishinoya! Libero!" He pointed his thumb towards his chest. An ear to ear grin plastered on his lips. The small tuft of blonde gave him that extra oomph.

"Please excuse them," An unfamiliar voice popped in as well. "They get uneasy when talking to girls. Daichi, captain of Karasuno."

Shaking his outstretched hand, you watched as he began to shoo them back into the gym. Giving an apologetic bow, you shook your head and soon followed them.

The little high of hearing the voices of your friends was now dying down. With the match now starting, you began the task of preparing their water bottles. It wasn't that hard but you did take note which bottle they preferred. Yukie and Kaori had to wonder how in the world you retained such tiny details.

The time you dreaded finally arrived.

The hours had flown by a little too quickly for your taste. Sitting in a circle, the female managers were now munching on some snacks that Yukie brought. Yachi and you began to talk about random stuff. It was interesting to hear her story of how she finally understood the importance of being a Townsperson B.

"If it wasn't for Hinata or Kageyama," She lightly scratched her cheek. "I probably wouldn't have found the confidence to become manager."

"Glad you did. Even the smallest of roles can have such a big impact." Recalling a few of your missions, you could feel how the confidence push made her shine even more.

"Okay, ladies!" Yukie now gathered your attention. "It's now time for the highlight of the night. A game of truth or dare."

Groans and giggles filled the room.

Taking a water bottle, she spun it around. Placing your hands in your jacket pockets, you manipulated the air each time the bottle faced you. The first victim had to be Yachi.

"Truth or dare, Yachi-chan." Kaori asked. When she chose truth, her cheeks flared at the question. "Who would make a great couple among the crows?"

This girl was kind but her questions were not.

"Uh, I thi-think," Hiding her face on her palms, Kiyoko and you patted her shoulders as a form of small encouragement. "D-Daichi-san and Suga-san."

Kiyoko covered her mouth and giggled. She nodded her head and agreed at the chosen 2.

The bottle was spun again. It began to slow down but with a little twitch of a finger, it landed towards Yukie. Mako took over and asked the question.

"If you could kiss any player in any of the schools here, which player would you go for?"

Tapping her index on the tip of her nose, she hummed and snapped her finger.

"Kenma." The other girls were a little shocked at her answer. When asked why, she merely shrugged and took a chip. "He's pretty interesting. And his pudding hair reminds me of food."

"Ahh." Both Kaori and you agreed and nodded. Her answer now made sense knowing that she had a thing for food.

The bottle was spun once again and this time it landed a safe distance away. The next to be questioned was Mako. Her question was who among the players would she take to the locker room and spend 7 minutes of heaven with. Yukie was definitely not lazy when it came to interrogations. Thank goodness you had a quirk.

“Kuroo would probably be fun to take into a closet but I think he’s a little too flirty for me.” She managed her thoughts out loud. Staying silent for a few seconds, she finally stated her answer. “Maybe Akaashi-san would be nice. He’s really respectful and pretty.”

The girls began to ‘ooh’ and giggle at her choice. Your two co-managers stared into your soul. Avoiding any sort of eye contact, you turned to face Yachi and sparked a conversation with her. That had to be the worst decision you made for the night. Being a bit too engrossed at such a random topic, you failed to take note of the bottle.

“Yo~ (y/n)~” Yukie’s lazy voice sent chills down your spine. Eyes widening at the realization that you forgot to focus your quirk on the bottle, you uttered a few curse words. “So, what’s with you and Akaashi?”

Mako gasped and covered her mouth. Telling her it was okay, you tried to wiggle your out.

“That’s not really a truth question.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms and merely gave a lazy smirk. “If given the chance, would you take him to the rooftop and kiss him, tonight?”

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Noted.” Kaori mumbled to herself, enough for you to hear. “Now that that’s over with, how ‘bout we do an open forum? Like what do you guys wanna talk about? Anything bothering you?”

Things went smoothly after that. Feeling a bit sleepy, you stifled a yawn and stretched without moving. Not that their problems or thoughts weren’t interesting, it was just the fact that today was a rather long day and the futon was very inviting. Reaching for your phone, you checked your messages and found Asami had replied.

Asami-chan: AAHHHH YOU BIIITSHH!! HOW DARE YOU TAKE A PICTURE WITH MY BOKUTO?! AND HOW DARE YOU DID NOT TAKE A SOLO PIC OF HIM?!

You: Drool. Chill. I’ll take one tomorrow.

Opening your mother’s response, you had to love how she sent a full on paragraph about how you should take care and that she misses you even more and a lot of fluffy words that made you smile. Reading the last part, you simply texted you loved her.

The last of the messages was sent no more than 4 minutes ago.

Akaashi: Good evening. Are you awake?

You: Yeah. We’re having a girl’s night here.

It was a bit of a shocker to see that he was now replying.

Akaashi: If you’re hungry, I have a snack bar.

You: Is it even allowed to go out of the rooms this time of night?

Akaashi: It’s still early. And Bokuto-san is still practicing with Kuroo-san so I have some spare time.

You: Can’t get enough of me?

Akaashi: I’ll meet you by the entrance.

Heart beating faster, you were now in a cinch. With the way the girls night was going, for sure you would be teased no doubt if you would mention his name. More so that the question given to you involved the person you were about to meet. Thinking about a reason, you stood up and went towards your bag. Rummaging aimlessly, you saw a napkin and nodded to yourself.

“I’ll be back.” Waving the item, the girls shooed you till you closed the door. Thus began the small run towards the entrance. When the last flight of stairs came, you slowed down and walked. Gotta catch your breath and not look like a fool.

“Hello to you.” You greeted him when you saw him. God he looked so good even with the dim lighting the area had to offer. In his hand were two snack bars. His drenched towel rested on his shoulder. Taking the bar, you sat beside him. Even with all the sweat, he smelled good. “You tired?”

“A bit.” He rolled his left shoulder. “Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san got into a competition and it so happens that I was the only setter in gym 3.”

“Oh.” Fidgeting with the bar, you inhaled and took a big bite. “I, uhh, can massage your shoulders if you want? I have pretty dandy hands”

“You don’t have to.” He stared at his shoes and wiped some non-existent sweat. The prospect of a shoulder massage would be very nice, he had to admit. But the thought of being seen by those two asses in the nearby gym was not good. Scanning the area, he saw the sprinting hill and waited if you would insist.

“I don’t mind.” Tucking a hair behind your ear, you bit your tongue and tried to calm down. “There’s not much malice in it anyway.”

Malice? Where and why did you even think of that word? Wondering why Akaashi stood up, he motioned for you to follow him. When he extended a hand, you didn’t need it but who could resist? Holding on to it, the both of you began to climb up the small sprinting area. Making sure that both of you were now behind the tree, he sat down and leaned on the trunk.

“So, uh, you can face that way to…” Fighting villains was nothing, but having to massage this sweaty man’s shoulders was a feat itself. When he followed instructions, you were now face to shoulder with Akaashi Keiji. This was even scarier when you had to battle with one of the eight precepts of death. With shaky hands, you warned Akaashi that you were about to start. He merely hummed.

When your palms touched his damp shirt, you activated your quirk to aid in relaxing his muscles. One of the advantages of having a quirk like yours was how you could manipulate the heat of your palms. Whenever you had sore or overworked muscles, a massage with your quirk always made you feel a thousand times better within a few minutes. Akaashi leaned in on your touch and let out an exhale. He could feel the effects of what you were secretly doing.

“You really do have dandy hands.” He praised you. Your small fingers delicately massaging the soreness away was something not even his own mother could do. Not wanting to strain you any further, he held on to your hands to signal you to stop. Peering over his shoulder, he gave a small smile and told you that was more than enough.

Leaning back on the trunk, he was amazed at how his body felt much more energized than last time. With your hand still being held by his, he stared at them for a moment before letting go. At the same time, the both of you missed the warmth and small tug.

“Thanks for the massage, (l/n).”

“No big deal.” Feeling that you used a small chunk of your quirk, you were silently thankful he still held on to your hand for an extended period of time. Though, when he let go, you kinda wished he didn’t. “Thanks for the snack bar, Akaashi.”

“Consider it payment for the massage.”

“Hey, hypothetical question.” Seeing him nod, you continued. “What if you, uhh, wake up one morning and find yourself in a completely different world; Different people, environment, everything. What would you do?”

“Hmm…” Giving him a few minutes, you were curious as to what his answer would be. “I’d probably lose my mind for the first couple of days. But I guess I could get information to see if it’s safe or dangerous. What about you?”

“I’d do the same thing.” The crickets were now chirping in the background. A soft breeze passed the both of you causing the leaves to rustle. “What if you met someone in that world? And they make you feel that there’s more to life than having to protect others constantly? Hypothetically, of course.”

“I don’t know.”

“Honestly, same.”

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a/n: hihihi just a sprinkle of drama in this chapter :) hoping ya’ll like this! Akaashi’s lineup still accepting players! Drop a comment or message me if ya’ll wanna be listed :)

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi #akaashi haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu #hq akaashi

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years ago

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Being Human - Chapter 11

<= Chapter 10

Summary : Snatcher meets someone new. Warning for this chapter : depressive thoughts. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/64721650

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NEW CHAPTER, HELLO THERE

Sorry for not posting in a while and thank you so much for your patience ! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter ! Thank you so much for all your nice comments, likes and reblogs, you're the reason I'm still writing today, you're all so great !!

The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 11 - “Let’s chat for a bit, okay?”

Snatcher covered himself with a colourful towel and opened the other door of the shower, revealing the room he had been in before: the machine room, apparently. It was a wonder how this ship still functioned despite all the fires and holes there were in the engines… That thought made the man extremely nervous. Who wouldn’t be, when they were in space, in a seemingly damaged spaceship run by children? Of course, it made him anxious! He could feel his heartbeat increase and he had to take deep breathes in order to calm himself down.

Now wasn’t the time to panic. Everything would be just fine. And hey, who knew, maybe he’d become a ghost again if he somehow died at some point? He scoffed at the idea: yeah, no, he knew that wouldn’t work. His knowledge on the supernatural and on magic in general were enough to give him a pretty good idea of what would or wouldn’t work.

Well, especially what wouldn’t work.

Once he felt calm enough, he focused once more on the current situation. Right next to the door lied a bag of clothes, all very diverse. This probably was what the hatted brat told him about earlier. With some hesitation, the former ghost bent over it and sunk his hands inside to inspect it. Unsurprisingly, those were all male clothes, very different from what he used to wear before he died. It made sense, in a way, considering a few centuries had passed since then, but that didn’t mean he could adapt that fast to this fact. It was a lot to take in, after all.

It took him a while to find something fitting him. Most clothes were either too small or too big for him. Some looked familiar to him, huge blue costumes especially, and he remembered he had seen these on those mafia goons that sometimes entered his forest. Well, no need to try them on, as they were visibly too big for him. It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the bag that he found a few clothes that could fit him: one was something he remembered was called ‘t-shirt’, although he didn’t understand where that name came from. Another piece of clothing was a green jacket made out of wool, which would certainly keep his body warm. He found an underwear to his size, though it looked like nothing he used to wear back when he was alive. The last clothes were blue pants that felt really weird to the touch and strange-looking brown shoes with laces.

What the heck was all of that.

With a very confused face, the former ghost did his best to put those clothes on despite his lack of balance. He couldn’t help but have the feeling they wouldn’t be comfortable to wear and oh Gods, was he right to think so. The ‘t-shirt’ was the less worst of all, having a strange shape yet a nice texture, so it wasn’t entirely bad. However, the jacket was itching him on his arms, the underwear felt extremely wrong on his skin, both because of its form and texture… But the worst thing was the pants. Oh, Gods, he absolutely loathed them. The feeling of the fabric on his skin felt so unnatural, and while it seemed a bit elasticated, the man felt like it was too tight around his legs. And what about that thing he had to use to close those pants! What even was that thing?! Who invented that?

With his hair still wet from the shower, Snatcher glanced at his own body, all confusion on his face replaced by exasperation and an obvious lack of understanding. How clothes like these could be worn casually? It made no sense to him.

A sudden noise coming from his stomach cut his thoughts short, forcing his mind to come back to reality. Right, the kids had mentioned someone who would cook for them, even if he didn’t remember their name. However, despite his blatant hunger, the former shade didn’t really look forward to eating anything, mostly because he knew this was going to be a bad experience. He hadn’t tried doing so yet but, considering how every action as a human, even the littlest ones, were so hard and painful to do again… It was obvious that whatever would happen, it wouldn’t be enjoyable.

Snatcher let out a frustrated sigh as another gurgle echoed in the room. Well, it wasn’t like his body was giving him any other choice, so he decided to accept whatever fate destiny had in store for him. He knew it was going to be bad, so it was better to just close his eyes and let fate do its magic. And so, with great reluctance, the former spirit walked away from the shower, taking the bag of clothes with him so he could give them back to whoever they belonged to.

He climbed the metal ladder leading to the upper part of the room, with some difficulties due to his need of adaptation, and approached the door, which opened swiftly once he was close enough to it. That still made him ill-at-ease, if he had to be completely honest, but at least he didn’t jump from surprise anymore, so that was still some progress. He entered the hallway, using the walls to help him to walk in the slope of the floor. No matter how it looked from an exterior eye, Snatcher was definitely getting better at that walking thing. If the movements still felt strange, it was becoming more natural for him, and his legs hurt less from the efforts.

He soon reached the other door, which opened just like the first one. The man arrived in the main hub and glanced around, looking for the kids and whoever they brought onto the ship. However, he was a bit surprised to see that no one was in the room, except for the little vacuum cleaner, still doing its job happily. It greeted Snatcher with a high-pitched sound, bumping into his foot as a way to say hello. He couldn’t help but cringe at the action, still saying nothing as he waited for the little robot to get away from him. Gods, this made him uncomfortable, and yet he felt so ridiculous for that. He could perfectly imagine the kids making fun of him, and he promised himself not to ever mention that in front of them, no matter the circumstances.

Just as he was about to explore the ship to find the little brats, several distant voices caught his attention towards the kitchen. One of them sounded unfamiliar and he guessed it most certainly belonged to the person the girls had mentioned before. Taking a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst, the former shade braced himself and walked to the green wooden ladder. Just like the one from before, Snatcher gritted his teeth as he climbed, the action being quite trying for someone who had come back to life. Gods, the things he’d do just to float again… With great efforts, he still managed to get back on the top of the platform, his forehead sweating from how hard it was and how warm the jacket was for him during such an exhausting effort. He quickly dried it up on his arm, having nothing else to use other than that. Once he calmed his breathing, he pushed the kitchen door open… And a strong smell hit his nostrils, a delicious one that made his mouth water and his stomach gurgle louder. His hand dropped the bag of clothes on the floor from the shock. Oh Gods, whatever was cooking, it smelled amazing. His eyes instantly fell on three silhouettes in front of the gas stove or whatever was the futuristic or alien equivalent.

He didn’t even know at this point.

There was a frying pan on the stove, with something cooking in it that the man couldn’t quite see from where he stood. All he knew was that it had a yellowish or orangish hue and that it smelled really good from his body’s point of view.

The three persons turned in his direction, two of them being the little girls he knew quite well and the other one… Being a cat in a chef’s uniform. What the heck.

-“Hey Snatcher!” was the first thing that came out from the hatted brat, soon imitated by her younger friend, waving at him: “Nice clothes,” she said with a thumb up. The bow-wearing kid added her own question:

-“I heard you had some trouble with the shower commands. Did you figure it out or…?”

Snatcher sighed and nodded, a frown on his face:

-“Yeah, I did. I would have appreciated an explanation about them, though,” he reproached, frustrated, making the kids wince at the remark. Well, he was right, so not his problem. His eyes then glanced back to the stranger, who was smiling at him, waiting for an opportunity to join the conversation:

-“Oh, hello !” greeted said cat with a feminine and gentle voice, as she approached him, dusting her paws on her clothes. The kids watched them from afar, next to the stove, surely because they originally were helping the other to cook. The hatted brat was watching the food, probably making sure it wouldn’t burn or something… Well, not that Snatcher trusted her on that regard, especially since she seemed to be poking at the food with a fork as if to see if it was still alive or not. The other little girl just slapped her hand away lightly, as if she were telling her it was impolite or something, whispering something Snatcher couldn’t hear from there.

What kind of alien food were the kids eating usually if they had to check if it was dead…? He suddenly became very nervous about the meal he was going to have. Well, in the end, he didn’t really want to know anyway.

Maybe he’d get lucky, since the cat was most certainly a native of the planet, just like he was. And since she was the one in charge of the cooking…

-“The girls and I were just talking about you,” added the stranger, giving the man a bright smile.

-“Oh, is that so…?” replied the former shade, glaring at the kids for talking about him while he was away. Whoever taught them politeness, they didn’t do a good job at it. What were they even talking about? The kids faked not noticing him, making Snatcher even more irritated. If only he still had his powers… Apparently, the cat seemed to notice his change of attitude and raised her hands in an apologizing gesture :

-“Oh, don’t worry, it wasn’t anything serious!” she explained, a little bit embarrassed: “They mostly told me what happened so I could be in the know,” she paused and extended her paw for him to take: “I’m Cooking Cat, but you can call me Cookie if you want.”

The man hesitantly took her paw, shaking it lightly:

-“The Snatcher,” he introduced himself, quickly pulling his hand back. The feeling of fur on his hand was extremely strange, new, and a bit overwhelming. He wasn’t ready for that kind of touch yet, he supposed. Cooking Cat didn’t seem bothered by that, as if she had been expecting it. Well, it made sense, if the brats told her about his bad experiences back in a human body.

She stepped away, making her way back to the stove as she replied:

-“I heard some stories about you,” she said, though she didn’t look scared. He couldn’t really blame her, though: who would be afraid of him the way he looked like now?

-“Terrifying ones, I hope,” he answered, his tone mixed with sarcasm and pride, a very terrible mix. The cat took the frying pan back from the kids, and quickly instructed them to fetch a large plate, which they quickly did. The former ghost came closer and finally got to see what was cooking: a few grilled cheese sandwiches. The sight and smell made his mouth water again. Gods, he hated being hungry and what that feeling did to him and his body.

-“Yes, for the most part. I must admit I didn’t think you were real until the girls told me about you and asked me to come here,” she confessed, looking a bit embarrassed as she did so: “I mostly heard about you from urban legends and scary tales for kids.”

-“Yeah, scary, right…” scoffed the hat-wearing brat, probably in order to tease him. He shot her a warning glare, which effect was only to make her and her friend giggle more. Those brats.

-“Anyway,” the cat spoke again, decided to change the topic for something lighter. She pointed to him with a smile: “I’m glad the clothes fit you well. I borrowed them from friends, you can keep them until you’re able to buy yours.”

That sentence suddenly made Snatcher realize that he had no money to buy clothes with. Or anything else, really. His thoughts must have been pretty easy to read from his expression as Cooking Cat lifted her paws again:

-“Don’t worry, you’re not in a rush, keep them as long as you need to,” she told him with a reassuring tone.

-“Yeah!” added the bow-wearing kid with a sympathetic smile -ugh- : “We’ll help you to find more clothes! And, not to brag, but I’m pretty good at picking clothes.”

-“She is,” upheld her older friend, “Whereas I’m the pon catcher,” she teased and then laughed, only to receive a light hit from the other with her elbow, giggling as well:

-“Hattie!”

The former shade couldn’t help but cringe at the sight. Gods, this was much too sappy for him. Next to him, Cooking Cat was looking at them fondly, like a mother figure watching her kids teasing each other. She eventually turned back to the stove, turning it off and lifting the frying pan in the air until she found a plate to drop the sandwiches on it.

-“Food’s ready!” announced the cat, smiling brightly. She put the frying pan in the sink and opened the tap to cool it down. She then handed the plate to the kids for them to pick a sandwich from. Without too much surprise, said kids were more than happy to finally eat something. Snatcher, in comparison? Not so much. The smell was perhaps appetizing, but the very idea of putting something material in his mouth after centuries of eating souls, immaterial remains of what used to be alive at some point… This was extremely different and he didn’t want to find out how exactly. However, his thoughts of disgust and nervousness were cut short as he was handed the plate as well. Eyes were on him instantly, waiting for him to take a sandwich too. The man couldn’t help but feel even more nervous, being stared that way made him quite uneasy. The cat was showing patience as she held her arm in the air, holding the plate still, as if she somehow knew what went through his mind. The hatted brat was about to say something, her face clearly mischievous, but her younger friend slapped her hand over the other’s mouth, preventing her to say anything. That action alone silenced the older girl, though she frowned at the bow-wearing kid, visibly unhappy with the latter’s reaction.

After what felt years to him, Snatcher eventually extended a hesitant hand to the plate, grabbing a sandwich. A scowl was plastered on his face, showing how anxious the whole situation made him. He could feel his mouth watering even more, saliva pilling up inside and making him even more uncomfortable. As if to encourage him, the bow-wearing kid took a bite of her own sandwich, soon imitated by her older friend, both stopping looking at him to focus on their food instead. Somehow, knowing he wasn’t the centre of the attention anymore made Snatcher feel a bit better. His posture relaxed and his expression softened, as he eyed his food with a wary look.

He was just so ridiculous, being afraid to eat a sandwich, out of any possible food in the universe. A pat on his arm suddenly brought the former ghost back to reality with a slight jump, his eyes looking for the reason of the contact. It was Cooking Cat.

-“You don’t have to eat, you know,” she offered with compassion, “We can put it in the fridge for later, when you feel ready for that.”

The abrupt sign of concern hit Snatcher’s pride right in the face. An angry blush appeared on his cheeks and he furrowed his brow. He loathed being pitied, especially for such a trivial matter. It was just food, what was he, a kid?! With a scoff, the man rolled his eyes: yeah, right! As if the powerful ghost of Subcon Forest couldn’t do something that simple!

Irritation soon replaced his apprehensiveness and he quickly brought the sandwich to his mouth, pushing all the nervous thoughts out of his mind. He didn’t need those right now. Without thinking anymore, he opened his mouth and took a bite.

It was at this particular instant that Snatcher realized he had definitely underestimated how much this would affect him. As soon as the food entered his mouth and touched his tongue, the former spirit was hit by a wave of sensations he hadn’t felt in years. The taste of food, the warmness of it on his tongue and on his inner cheeks, the texture of each ingredient, how everything together formed all new tastes-

It was absolutely overwhelming.

It was hard to explain how weird and strong all those new sensations were to Snatcher. He couldn’t help but freeze as his mind was unable to do anything else but focus on everything he was feeling at the moment. The taste was indescribable, in a way the man couldn’t describe as positive or negative. It was just there, flooding his brain with many, many signals he hadn’t expected to feel and didn’t understand yet. The texture was… Not something he enjoyed. The presence of something material in his mouth was strange and unnatural to him. Snatcher’s mouth remained motionless, not moving nor chewing because he was too shocked to actually think of doing so. His stomach gurgled louder and… It hurt, as if someone were twisting his guts in the most painful way.

Was this how hunger felt like? Like his guts were twisted again and again and again? Gods, how he loathed that feeling.

Snatcher’s thoughts were once more cut short as the hatted brat called out to him, this time not held back by her younger friend:

-“Uh, Snatcher…?” she started, hesitantly, raising one of her eyebrows as she continued: “You know you have to chew and swallow… Right?”

The words didn’t register right away in the former spirit’s mind. When they did, however, Snatcher felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Hell, learning to control a body after centuries was awful. Frowning even more, he started to move his jaw, though a bit awkwardly at first. The feeling of his teeth crushing food was so foreign, so… Weird, and almost disgusting, if he started to think about it too much. The sound of chewing echoed in his head, and he felt the need to close his eyes. It was loud, loud, too loud, much too loud. He didn’t know when he had to stop chewing. Did the food need to be a complete food mash? He had no idea, and his embarrassment just intensified as the seconds passed. He knew he was being watched, he knew that, and it all made everything worse.

After a while, when he felt the food was just a mashed mix of ingredients… He tried to swallow, the same way he managed to when it came to saliva. Strangely… It didn’t go the wrong way. Instead, the former shade felt the food coming down in his throat, rubbing each wall inside in the most uncomfortable possible way. The man cringed and shivered from the sensation, eyes shut hard and his body tensed more than he ever imagined.

There. He had chewed and swallowed the first bite. Woah. How amazing, truly. Now there were a dozen more to go, now this was just great.

Claps suddenly echoed in the room, making Snatcher jump. He quickly reopened his eyes, only to find the two kids cheering upon him by clapping their hands. The sound was ringing in his head each time their palms met, making him cringe again and again. The little girls were smiling, looking at him with wide eyes, full of… Admiration? Pride? Happiness? No, this couldn’t be that. This just couldn’t be. They weren’t cheering for him, how could they?

Snatcher was being mocked. He knew that, he was ridiculous, he couldn’t even eat properly, he was even more pathetic than a human, he couldn’t believe it- No one would ever cheer on someone for something that simple, something anyone could do easily but him.

The former ghost gritted his teeth strongly, so much that it hurt. Inside his chest, he felt like something was squeezing his organs, even squeezing at something that wasn’t really there in the first place. His hands were shaking, no, his whole body was. His face was becoming hotter and hotter, red like a tomato from how furious and ashamed he felt at the moment.

This was stupid, so stupid, why was this happening to him, why, why, why-

With a strangled cry, Snatcher threw the rest of the food on the floor violently. All the ingredients scattered on the black and white tiles with a repugnant sound, and silence fell in the room, the kids stopping their cheering instantly. Shock was on everyone’s face but Snatcher’s, his own frowning to the point where it just hurt.

He didn’t want this, never in his life and afterlife did he wish for such a terrible humiliation.

Ignoring the loud and high-pitched reproaches of the hatted brat, the man turned away, fleeing the room quickly despite how unstable he still was on his legs. He didn’t even see the kids and cat’s face well before he snapped, but he could perfectly imagine it. The hat-wearing girl was angry, revolted by his behaviour, by how he wasted food that was made for him, disappointed in him-

The younger kid certainly had that awfully annoying worried expression plastered on her face, pitying him, like they all were-

As for the cat, Snatcher was certain she either felt outraged like the older brat or upset like the younger one.

The man left the room as fast as he could, feeling his legs trembling more and more. It wasn’t like he could leave -he was in space after all, stuck in a spaceship-, but he just wanted to be alone, alone, alone for the love of Gods! The man’s breath was heavy and he could hear voices calling out to him, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. A loud and deafening ringing noise was playing in his mind, hitting the walls of his skull at each heartbeat. He wanted to flee, wanted to go away so much-

He went down the mezzanine, his fists clenched, his nails almost piercing the skin. He was just at the middle of the large hub room when his left foot walked on the shoelace of his other foot, shoelaces he hadn’t tied up before. Instantly, it was like he had received a bucket of freezing water on his head as he realized that his body was falling, falling onwards, and he couldn’t stop it. He lost his balance, his arms instinctively tensed before him to protect him from the impact. Just before hitting the floor, he shut his eyes hard… And something wet leaked from them.

Oh. He was crying. Now, this was just pathetic-

The shock of the impact shut his thoughts up, silencing them immediately. A breathless cry left his lips as the air of his lungs were forced out of his body. Pain spread in his whole body, making him curl up from the ache, from the humiliation, from how bad he felt.

He didn’t want to be a human. Especially not who he used to be.

Far away in the room, the little cleaning robot seemed to watch with concern, beeping in a lower tone than usual. It looked like it understood that it was best not to approach Snatcher in his current state of mind.

The kitchen door opened swiftly, revealing the trio watching him from the top of the mezzanine. Just like he had expected… The hatted brat was angry and the other kid looked just as sad as he had thought. As for Cooking Cat… Her expression was unreadable. Was she worried? Disappointed? He didn’t know.

-“What the peck, Snatcher?!” yelled the older girl, gripping at the railing of the mezzanine as she bent over it: “Why did you-”

The former ghost had expected to hear yells and reproaches -who wouldn’t in his situation, after all?-, but… The hatted kid was silenced by Cooking Cat, the latter putting her paws on the children’s shoulders. Her grip on them seemed to be stronger than it should normally be, as if she were trying to catch their attention, which apparently worked, as silence fell into the room. The little girls looked at her with a mix of confusion and curiosity, though the anger was still very much visible on the hatted brat’s face.

-“Why don’t you two prepare a bed for your friend while he and I talk for a bit?” she offered them, with a tone that was nice but still wasn’t just a suggestion, or maybe a strong one.

Both of the kids looked at each other before glancing at Snatcher, who was still lying on the floor, more than humiliated. Why did the cat want to talk to him? He didn’t need comfort, he just wanted things to go back as they were! Why couldn’t it be simple?! Why did it have to be so hard and so unbearable? He didn’t ask for any of this!

Surprisingly, the children listened to Cooking Cat and nodded, probably because they understood how serious the other was. They remained hesitant for a few moments as if they were having second thoughts about all of this, but they eventually left the room, entering the hallway leading to their bedroom, whispering to each other.

Snatcher loathed this, he hated what was happening to him, this wasn’t fair! He gritted his teeth, hearing the cat approaching him one step after the other. What did she want to talk about? They didn’t even know each other, what would be the point?! She wouldn’t be able to help him, only the kids were, and they weren’t able to do so quickly! All he had to do now was to wait, while he could only hope for Vanessa not to go crazy and freeze the entire forest again! But sure, he could play the perfect little human! After all, this could only be a fun experience!!

He hadn’t realized he had been holding his head until now, his nails scraping his scalp painfully. He felt a paw on his shoulder, rubbing it slowly and gently. It made him jump once more, his eyes shutting hard: he could barely handle his emotions and now he had to handle the sensation of a paw rubbing his shoulder?! But as he was about to complain, Cooking Cat spoke first, with a calm and soothing voice that silenced him completely:

-“Let’s chat for a bit, okay?” she offered, her tone full of compassion and understanding.

Snatcher didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to be comforted! Comfort was for kids, for helpless people, and he was neither of those things! And yet… Yet…

The man nodded silently, tears suddenly leaking out of his eyes and gross sobs leaving his mouth, echoing all around them in the room.

Snatcher just wanted to feel good for once.

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So uh will you believe me when I say this chapter was supposed to be completely fluff and all... But it just went downhill as I wrote it and I couldn't stop it. It just happened. Well, in a way, I imagine Snatcher having good and bad times, it's not a linear experience, having to like himself and his old self. So yeah... But next chapter is going to be calmer and Snatcher will have the opportunity to talk about things a bit.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and my drawings ! See you on the next chapter !

(Also I'm posting this four days before my birthday, look at me giving you a gift when it's my birthday soon idjqhdihqdu. ANYWAY. Hope y'all have a great day !!)

=> Chapter 12

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missblissy · 5 years ago

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Rebirth (Chapter Eleven)

Alastor x Human!Reader ((Reincarnation!AU))

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven

It was unnecessarily dark. You looked around at Alastor’s bedside and did your best to lighten it up. You moved to a window and began to pull open the drapes, hoping the daylight might help. You were instead met with a red sky with permanent overcast and endless screams that seemed to vanish into silence as you closed the drape back up. So much for that idea…

You found some extra light switches to flip and in an instant the darkness vanished, aside from the shadows in the corners. You found yourself in a room so otherworldly, you weren’t sure it was entirely a room. The walls were decorated from an era long before your lifetime, with the majority of its color in a deep shade of red and black with gold to compliment in details and outlines. Everything about this room shared a reoccurring color pattern. Bookcases littered one corner, making it into a makeshift office of sorts with desks and cabinets as well. A bed stayed in the other corner where Alastor laid now, then a fireplace in another corner and the last one had several doors, however one of them poorly stood out. It looked like a shabby ply wood door you’d find on a hut or a cabin.

Pictures littered more than half of the wall space. Most of them were small and yellowed, with no color to them other than shades of brown. There were pictures of mostly people and larger paintings of places aside from one large portrait above the fireplace. It was large, definitely larger than you. The colors were faded in some places, while the paint had only started to crack in the smallest of fissures. It was like looking in a mirror, you saw yourself painted stoically onto the portrait hanging high above your head.

You took a deep breath in as you stared at your demon self, perfectly captured in oil sitting in a chair with Alastor who was off to the side and standing behind you. You both had smiles, but they were small, baring no teeth and relaxed. You were in a golden gown that looked straight off the red carpets of hollywood. It was long, with embroidered patterns all along the skirt and torso with long lace sleeves. Alastor didn’t look any different than how he did now, the only thing different about you was just your clothes at this point. You looked exactly like the demon staring back at you.

The sounds of Alastor’s soft snores fizzled in the air due to his static nature. You looked over your shoulder at him, watching him sleep for a moment before you looked back up at the painting. A breeze drifted by your shoulder, through your hair and caused the low fire to flicker only slightly more. Did someone open the door? No, it was still closed.

You looked over to the windows, nothing about them changed. As you turned your head, looking around the room slowly, you felt the breeze again…

“Scared yet?” Smoke started to encased you and you nearly screamed before a foggy hand slapped itself over your mouth. How could… smoke have mass? How could you feel it’s wispy skin? In a swirling whirlwind of shadows and smoke, it took the form of a dark body that looked very similar to Alastor’s own shadow… “Forgot little old Eon?” You could see his hollow eyes and mouth from the lack of mist in those areas. It moved and shifted as he spoke, “How are you?”

He moved away, floating wherever he liked while staring at you. It took you a second to respond, the Xanax was still in your system and it made you more and more groggy as time passed, “I’m fine,” You paused, “What do you want?”

Eon flicked a smokey ear and you could have sworn you saw the flash of an earring dangling away, “Clever girl,” He clicked his tongue once then rolled his eyes with a grin, “So smart! Gets straight to business!” He started to float around the room with crossed arms, “But I’m just dropping in, my vessel,” He paused and looked at Alastor’s sleeping figure, “Has taken on a lot of damage it seems. I haven’t seen him passed out like this in years,”

You weren’t sure what to say, “That’s nice of you… I guess,” That made him laugh. You’ve never heard such a hollow and empty laugh before. It was so small, quick and short.

Eon shrugged his shoulders and gazed at you with a sharp and toothy grin, “What about you? Why are you still here?”

“Because I look like this,” You held one of your arms up then gestured to all your new demonic features.

“Oh! That’s what’s different! I could hardly notice!” Another hollow laugh, it was a few seconds longer than the last one, “Is that it?” He asked, “You seem like you might be.... Looking… for something?”

You narrowed your gaze and pointed a look at Eon, “No,” You said quickly, “Stop trying to get in my head,” You walked past him and towards the fireplace. You stood there and held your hands out flat, taking in the warmth of the fire.

“I’m not trying anything,” Eon said with a false sense of innocence, “You’ve been asking questions all day about him,” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Alastor, “You’ve been obsessing over a diary with nothing but him in it,” Eon moved his ever twisting and smoking body into the large chair resting beside the fireplace, “Seems like to me you’ve been given the perfect chance to finally answer all those questions once and for all,” He gave you a look, a smile, a lifted brow and some kind of twinkle in his empty eyes.

“Are you telling me to go through his stuff?”

“Maybe?” Eon shrugged and his grin only grew larger, “I mean, who knows how long he’s gonna sleep like a dead baby? Last time he was out for about a month or so. And the diary can only tell you so much, and Alastor doesn’t want to tell you anything at all.”

He had a point. You looked around the room again, trying your best to avoid eye contact with the portrait. Maybe you could just… look around a bit. Where would you even start? You looked back to Eon, you couldn’t believe you were waiting for his wicked influence to push you further down this hole.

As if he could read your thoughts, he chuckled lowly and got up from the chair, “I’d start with that,” He pointed to the corner of the room that looked like a neatly chaotic office space. Everything was in its place, but there was just too much of everything in the way to make it look any nicer than a cluster fuck of personal items.

The thing that stood out the most to you was a stone bird bath crammed into the corner and wedged between two bookshelves. Other wall shelves hung above it within the corner. They were littered with photos, jars, plates and other personal items. You tiptoed over, like Alastor could hear you walking despite being totally knocked out.

“What is it?” You asked Eon. He was still wandering around behind you, floating here and there like a leaf lost in the wind.

“It’s called a Water Well,” Eon explained smoothly, “It’s what demons used to use before phones were invented. It also can be used for other things as well,”

“Like?”

He chuckled slightly, “Why don’t you touch it and find out?”

You looked at him with a raised brow, “This thing isn’t gonna kill me, right?” Why were you even asking? And why would he tell you the truth? He just shrugged and smiled at you and waited.

You peered into the Water Well, it’s water slowly rippled from within, creating small waves that lapped at the edges of the bowl. You reached out then paused with great hesitation. You were scared something bad was going to happen, and yet at the same time you didn’t seem to care all that much, maybe that was from the help of the Xanax.

Eventually you hovered your hand over the bowl filled with water. You quickly dipped a finger into it’s chilly embrace then yanked your hand away as if you expected to be attacked. Instead you were met with a faint blue glow that sparkled underneath the surface of the water.

Soon you could clearly see the image coming through. You found yourself staring into a one way window. One side was you, peering into the depths of the well, and on the other side was your family. Your mom and your dad. They were in the hospital and you could see them through one of the hospital windows. Your father was sleeping while your mother sat beside him, holding his hand and reading a book with the other. She must have been reading to him because her lips were moving but you couldn’t hear anything.

Suddenly you heard Eon’s low voice right beside you, “Interesting…” He paused then dared to dip his own finger into the water. It quickly changed and you saw the view zooming out. You could see the city, then the state, then the country, then the entire planet. It finally stopped on a picture perfect view of earth in the daylight.

You didn’t understand, what exactly was this Well trying to show you? By that point you were almost certain Eon could either hear your thoughts, or he was just really good at reading facial expressions despite the lack of his own.

“It shows what the heart desires the most,” He explained, “It’s gifted, and the only Well of its kind. It doesn’t show you what your soul wants, nor your mind. The heart is an incredibly tricky manifestation of many emotions, some find it very hard to listen to their heart,” You watched as Eon turned his gave slightly to Alastor.

For the first time you could just make out all the features of Eon’s face. That’s when you took a closer look at this smokey spirit. It was like he was here and somewhere else at the same time. His body was nothing but shadows and fog spinning around constantly as if they were covering up what was underneath. Every once and a while you could see colors peak out from behind the smoke, you could see skin or piercings for half a millisecond. It made you wonder, who was he? Or more so, what was he?

All you could remember was the rushed words Vanderlinde told you not long ago, that Alastor harbored an incredibly powerful spirit from another realm that no one could comprehend. And now apparently his heart desired the earth.

“Who are you?” You asked, your question surprised him enough to float away some and put a little distance between the both of you, “Really,” you went on, “Who is Eon supposed to be?”

He gave you an odd look, then smiled, “Me? You’re asking the wrong person, sweetie,” He tried to brush your question off but you weren’t having any of it.

You shook your head then pointed a finger at him, “No, I want to know who you are before I dig any deeper into this. I know you’ve got something to do with him. If you’re a part of Alastor then I need to know who you are too.”

Eon was fairly surprised by your demands, but he didn’t deny you, “Okay, fair point,” He shrugged then then gave a quick nod of his head, “Alastor summoned me many years ago, when he was alive. He sold his soul to me in exchange for power in the afterlife. All I asked for in return was that he give me more souls, because I do so love eating them!”

“Then what exactly are you?” You lifted a brow at him while looking him over for good measures. He didn’t have any feet, his legs just ended with little wisps for tails when they got too close to the floor. His form was just a black cloud in the shape of a tall limber body. He had a little devil tail that flicked around like that of a cat’s, with his puffy ears to match and sharp toothy grin.

“I’m just a spirit without a body. My soul is attached to Alastor’s by the laws of our contract, but I can’t have his body, because he also doesn’t have one, he’s dead!” Eon smiled at you and shrugged as he started to float circles around you, “That’s pretty much it,” He said, “There isn’t all that much more to know about me,”

“I’m sure there is,” You said with your lips pressed thin, “I doubt you’ll tell me, though,” His laugh only made you roll your eyes, “What about him then? What does his heart want the most, or does he not have one at all?”

“Oh he does,” He nodded his head. Eon wandered back over to the Water Well and stood right beside it. You stood in your spot and watched as Eon snapped his ghostly fingers and you watched a manifestation come to life in his hand.

You inched closer and watched a machine put itself together out of the smoke that was Eon’s palm. It ticked away, humming a pulse and formed into what looked almost like a radio, “It’s very broken,” Eon said with a nod of his head, “There’s not much there anymore beside wires and bolts,” That’s when you put together what he was saying.

“That’s Alastor’s heart…” You walked up to the Water Well and watched as Eon put the radio heart in a dark purple bubble of safety. He let it float around the Water Well for a moment before it slowly drifted in the slow current of the whirlpool. It didn’t take long for you to see a third person view of yourself. When you looked behind your shoulder towards this hidden camera, you were met with a familiar face instead.

Buck, your orange tabby cat was sitting neatly in a chair with his tail resting on his paws. You took a second glance into the Well, then to Buck, then to Eon. As soon as he took Alastor’s heart out of the well and made it vanish, so did Buck. He flew away in a cloud of smoke in the wind, gone from your sight and to God only knows where. It didn’t take you much longer to realize that you were what Alastor’s heart wanted the most.

You weren’t sure how to handle that information. You looked at Eon while you began to run a hand through your hair, “Okay,” You let out a shaky breath, “Who is he?” You looked up at Eon with a wary gaze. He was right, there really wasn’t anything else to know about Eon anymore. Alastor was the one who wanted you.

And Eon was going to point you in the right direction, literally. He lifted a finger and jabbed it to the bookcase behind you. Though he was pointing to the top shelf where several large folders, maybe six or seven total, sat neatly collecting dust. You narrowed your gaze and read the hand written notes on their spines.

1926 (1), 1927 (3), 1929 (9), 1930 (11), 1931 (12), 1932 (14), 1933 (XXX)

Each folder had a year, then a number on it, besides the last one, which also happened to be the smallest of them all. When you looked over your shoulder, Eon was gone, though you knew he was watching from whatever corner he was hiding in.

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dhwty-writes · 4 years ago

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Chapter 7 - A Broken Sword

After that delightful dose of fluff last chapter I can assure you that we are now returning to our angsty scheduled program. Thanks to @persony-pepper for betaing. Have fun reading!

Summary: Ciri and Jaskier are getting along better by the minute. The Viscount and Geralt, however, can't seem to find common ground.

Read on AO3

Part 1 | Part 7 | Part 9

In general, things got better in Lettenhove. Geralt didn't know what Ciri and Jaskier had done that afternoon before he had found them in Jaskier's nursery, but whatever it was, he wasn't about to complain. Because by some kind of miracle it made Ciri laugh and Jaskier talk — not to him, of course, but that was another story. Even Janina had stopped insulting him at every turn.

On a personal and petty level, though, things got worse. It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But Ciri had spent an entire afternoon with Jaskier, she even got to call him Jaskier. She had even gotten him to call Geralt by his name; he hadn't even known how much he'd missed that, and yet— And yet. And yet, she refused to talk about whatever had transpired that day besides that Jaskier had told her some stupid story about some stupid hero.

It had been a week and yet every time he tried to coax the actual story out of her, she responded with: "Jaskier said, if you don't know it, it is not his place to tell me what happened. So, it is not my place to tell you what happened."

It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was infuriating.

Not only had Jaskier stolen his child surprise, but he was also feeling more like an outsider than ever. Before, it had been Ciri and him who were obviously encroaching into the ancestral home of the Lord and Ladies Pankratz, their mere presence at the dinner table an unwelcome intrusion of the familiar rhythm the three siblings followed. Now, with Ciri animatedly chatting with both Jaskier and Józefa, he grew more uneasy every day.

From time to time he even played with the thought to leave. With a good enough horse, he might still make it to Kaer Morhen before the Trail became impassable. He could leave Ciri here for the winter and return for her come spring. He trusted Jaskier not to sell her out. But then again, Jaskier was no warrior. He might have changed a lot but not that much. If Ciri would be attacked he wouldn’t be able to defend her. He couldn’t leave— it was just wishful thinking.

To make things worse, Jaskier's attitude towards him didn't improve one bit. He probably could handle not being talked to; after all, he had wished for blessed silence long enough. It was the little things that made Geralt lose his mind. Like how Jaskier still insisted on calling him 'witcher' most of the time. Or how he had no qualms ordering Geralt around like one of his guards. Or that he just burst into Geralt's room one day while he was telling Ciri a story and triumphantly declared: "I have thought of a solution!"

"You can't just barge into rooms without knocking," Geralt growled.

The comment made Jaskier frown, as if he was thoroughly confused by it. "You're mistaken, witcher," he said and Ciri giggled. "I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. This is my castle, after all." He winked at Ciri and she laughed louder as if they were privy to some kind of joke Geralt didn't understand.

'Nobles.' He ground his teeth. There was a reason why he avoided aristocrats like the plague. How on earth had he managed two collect two of them? And why on earth stared the two of them at him as if they were waiting for something? Geralt sighed: "What solution, my lord?"

"We will dye Ciri's hair!"

Ciri shrieked and attempted to scramble out of Geralt's lap, but he quickly caught her and pulled her back. "Not so fast, cublet," he said and dangled her from her ankle upside down, before he turned to Jaskier: "I beg your pardon?"

“We will dye her hair,” he repeated.

“Why?” Geralt asked and Jaskier rolled his eyes.

"To better hide her," he said very slowly as if talking to a particularly stupid child. "A lot of people know — or know of — the ashen-haired Princess of Cintra, who was claimed as child surprise by Geralt of Rivia, who was foolishly immortalised for his white hair and is known to be my friend. I will try to shield her from view as much as I can but I can't lock her up for the whole winter. And pray tell, how suspicious do you think it would be to have a 'cousin' no-one has ever heard of, who fits the description perfectly, arrive with you at my home, witcher? Hm? That is disaster waiting to happen."

"So?"

Jaskier rolled his eyes at him. "So, I have had a nice little potion brought in that will dye our dear lion cub's hair in a lovely shade of chestnut brown that quite resembles mine if I do say so myself."

Geralt snorted and put Ciri down onto her feet again. "Why, because you hide your grey hairs with that?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. "That is none of your concern, witcher," the viscount answered and Geralt cursed silently. He couldn't quite get used to the no-jokes-about-the-viscount-allowed-policy in Lettenhove. They hadn't really talked about it — then again, what had they really talked about since his arrival? — but Jaskier enforced this unspoken law with an iron fist. The fact that Ciri seemed to be exempt — the only exception besides Józefa — didn't make it any better. Every time he saw her joking with Jaskier, both of them gently teasing each other mercilessly, he ached to join in.

Sometimes, their antics were enough to make his unyielding discipline waver, sometimes Jaskier's ramblings were. Every time he slipped up it was like starting over again. He cast his eyes downwards. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Pardon, I didn't quite catch that," Jaskier retorted with that particular voice of his he used so often nowadays. Geralt still couldn't quite place its meaning.

"I'm sorry, my lord," he gritted out, swallowing down his pride and the bitter taste the address left in his mouth alike.

"You shall be forgiven," he answered politely and paused before adding: "In due time. Ciri, come with me?"

This time he didn't stop her when she wriggled out of his grasp and ran over to their host. He felt miserable just sitting there as the door closed behind them. Still, he couldn't quite stop himself from listening when Ciri squealed: "You're cruel."

He almost didn't catch Jaskier's reply: "Probably. But did you see his face?"

Even four days after he couldn't get used to seeing Ciri with dark hair. She had returned a few hours later to him, her hair still wet from washing the excess dye out. Like that it looked so dark it might as well be black. But Jaskier had been right: dried, it resembled his own hair colour very much.

He couldn't forget the little exchange he had overheard between Jaskier and Ciri either. He tried to avoid the word ‘eavesdropping’ when thinking about it — that wasn't really what he had been doing. Normally, they waited until they were out of earshot, even a witcher’s, before they started talking. That time they hadn't. He couldn't very well shut his ears. Which meant that he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he had been supposed to hear it. But if that was the case, he couldn't figure out why.

He itched to ask them but he couldn't really do that. Because if he hadn't been supposed to hear that he had been eavesdropping — a crime Jaskier formerly would have punished with a light slap on his wrist and some silly moniker. 'Scamp', maybe, or 'rogue' or perhaps even 'scoundrel'. Now, however… And he couldn't ask Ciri either. In the best case, she'd tell him she couldn't tell him again. In the worst case she'd tell Jaskier.

He was mulling over that question again, watching Ciri out of the corner of his eye as she balanced on the railing of the gallery when his thoughts were interrupted by a loud shout: "Ci- Fiona!" Jaskier rushed out into the courtyard without so much as a cloak to protect him from the dropping temperatures and stared up at his child surprise in horror. "What are you-" He turned to Geralt, seething with anger. "What is she doing up there?"

"Training," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Training?!" his voice cracked. "What do you mean, training? I thought you were teaching her how to wield a sword!"

"And I thought you weren't watching," he replied before thinking the better of it.

"That is not the point! This is not teaching her how to wield a sword, witcher! This is dangerous! What if she falls?"

"She won't," he insisted stubbornly. He had her balance on all kinds of narrow paths before, though none of them in such heights. Only when she had mastered the previous paths had he allowed her up the railing.

"What if she does?"

"That's why I'm watching her," Geralt growled and moved to brush past him. He was no idiot. He wouldn't let her fall. "Get out of the way, bard, you're blocking my line of sight."

Jaskier didn't want to hear any of that: "Get her down from there, now!"

"Jas-"

"Now, witcher!"

"My lord-"

Jaskier yelped as Ciri stumbled and flailed with her arms. Geralt pushed past him, ready to catch his child surprise. A smug grin spread on his face as she regained her balance quickly. With agile movements she finished walking and came rushing down the stairs.

"Jaskier!" she exclaimed happily, skipping over to them. "Did you see me?"

The bard in question nodded, paler than a death shroud and gasping for air as if he had been the one stalking the balustrade. 'Always so dramatic,' he thought and rolled his eyes. "I did, darling, you did wonderful," Jaskier patted her on the shoulder and forced a smile.

"Look at what Geralt taught me yesterday!" Without hesitating she did a handstand and began walking on her hands before closing with a cartwheel. With rosy cheeks she turned to them. "Will you watch?"

"I-" Jaskier faltered. Geralt could see him agonising over it. 'Ha!' he thought smugly. 'He's as much under her charm as I am.' It would have warmed his heart if not for the stink of vinegar, infected wounds and peppers in the air. "Sure," Jaskier said finally. "For a bit."

Her face lit up as she turned back to Geralt. "Can I do the barrels next?"

He waved his hand in permission and watched her run off. "Barrels?" Jaskier gasped. "What barre- sweet Melitele have mercy!" The stench of vinegar was strong enough to make Geralt gag. "Does she do that all the time?"

"She does," he agreed and watched Ciri clamber up the barrels of ale that had been transported in a few days ago. They had quickly been included into their daily routine.

"What if she trips?"

"My lord," Geralt sighed heavily.

"Witcher."

"You have just seen her walk over a railing that is thinner than her feet are wide. She won't trip."

"Geralt!" Ciri called for their attention. "Jaskier! Look!" She was doing a handstand on the highest barrel now and Jaskier blanched again.

"Oh, no, child, that's-", he cried.

"Don't get cocky, now!" Geralt added. "Or else-"

"I'll become a prick like Lambert, I know," she answered and stood upright again. He did his best to ignore the pointed glare Jaskier gave him. "I'll just balance over here real quick- Shit!"

It happened far too quickly for either of them to react. Ciri's foot caught on something and then she stumbled into the four feet of thin air below her. By the time Geralt was running towards her she was already lying on the floor, clutching her right ankle tightly. Pride welled up inside him to see that no tears stained her cheeks. "Are you alright?" he asked and tried to scoop her up.

She cried in pain as he touched her, and now there were tears and he felt horrible. "It hurts!" she complained.

"I told you to be careful," he chided, "I told you not to get cocky!"

"Am I becoming a prick now?" she asked so earnestly that it made him laugh. "No!" she sobbed harder. "Don't laugh! It hurts!"

"I won't, I won't," he reassured her quickly, trying to regain his composure. "Show me where?"

He barely registered Jaskier shouting while Ciri pointed at her right ankle. And her right arm. And her right shoulder. Her whole right side basically.

"Borys, don't stare and make yourself useful!" the viscount bellowed, "Take a horse and go get Wera- No, you idiot! Take two horses! Marin!"

"Yes, my lord."

"I'll have these barrels removed! Now!"

"At once, my lord."

"You know what? I'll have any climbable structure that could pose a threat to a ten-year old child removed."

"The stables too, my lord?"

“The stables- I- No, of course not, you imbecile!”

“Just checking, my lord.”

"Marin."

"Yes, my lord?" There was a pause. Geralt imagined Jaskier giving Marin a very stern look but he was too busy checking for injuries to look up. "No jokes, understood. Alright men, you heard his lordship!"

Jaskier fell to his knees next to Geralt. "Ci- Fiona, my dear, how are you feeling?" he asked anxiously, the scent of vinegar spiking again.

"I'm fine," Ciri sniffled. "But my foot hurts."

"Yeah, I don't doubt that... You!" He pointed at a passing servant. "Bandages and cold water. Now!" Jaskier shooed Geralt off and turned back to Ciri, carefully peeling the sleeve of her tunic away. "Here, let me see- ohh, that doesn't look good."

She gasped. "What is it?"

He frowned deeply. "I fear we'll have to lop it off. There's just no saving it..."

She shrieked and giggled. "That's not true! Geralt, tell me that's not true!"

He did his best to maintain a straight face: "No, he's completely right. I've had griffin bites smaller than that."

"An infected wound is a serious business, little one," Jaskier added. "Best not take any risks."

"Yeah, with a scrape as bad as this... best take preemptive measures-"

She made a very rude gesture at them. "You're horrible." Geralt scoffed and to his surprise Jaskier snickered. He hadn't heard him laugh since their arrival. Ciri shoved both of them hard. Jaskier at least had the courtesy to fall over.

"Now that's not true," Geralt said as Jaskier answered: "Anything to make you laugh, darling girl."

"I hate you," she pouted, "both of you."

"Say that again and you're grounded for the rest of the week, young lady. Melitele knows you need the bedrest..."

"I'm fine!" Ciri insisted stubbornly and sprung to her feet to show it. Geralt was impressed that she didn't even wince.

"You are fine when Wera says you are. Sit down and wait here for her. I need to borrow my witcher for a bit."

She frowned. "But I'm not finished, yet!" she insisted.

"Yes, you are," Geralt agreed with Jaskier. "You can't fight like that."

"You do!" she replied and he cursed quietly.

"Another reason why I need a word with him," Jaskier said and stared at Geralt angrily. "You can continue tomorrow, dear child, if Wera allows it. This is important."

"Is this one of those grown-up talks?" She wrinkled her nose. "If so, I don't want to see that."

Jaskier took a shuddering breath. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, exactly. Marta!" He waved for the servant to come over. "Go and draw Fiona a bath, Melitele knows she needs one. And then you just... take the day off, hm? Read a bit. Or have Marta help you over to see Józefa. I believe she's almost done with the cartoon for her tapestry."

Ciri scowled at him before letting Marta support her in order to limp back to the South Wing, muttering ‘Grown-ups are weird’ as she went.

As soon as the door to the well house shut behind them, Jaskier turned to him, his voice sharp as razor blades: "My study," he ordered. "Now."

Geralt narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth but still he followed him when he turned back to the East Wing. The way up the stairs, spent in complete silence, was torture. Every step poisoned the air more with the horrid stench of vinegar-fear and peppery anger.

It made Geralt want to retch as an icy hand grasped his own heart. He knew the fiery taste of Jaskier's fury well enough. Usually it appeared on his behalf, not because of him. That alone was worrying, but the truly terrifying thing was the sour stench that came with panic. Jaskier never smelled of fear in his presence: not upon their first meeting, not when facing elves and djinns and angry Yennefers. Not even with the prospect of walking down a deadly mountain trail all on his own. 'What have I done that he fears me?' he asked himself. 'What have I done that he no longer feels safe in my presence?'

His thoughts were interrupted with the doors slamming shut behind him. "What were you thinking?" Jaskier shouted and the spice flared again. "Climbing barrels, Geralt? Really? Were you even thinking, you absolute idiot?"

"I am training her," Geralt answered simply.

"You were endangering her!" He whipped around, his chest heaving heavily. "You're supposed to keep her out of harm's way, not thrust her in it!"

"Calm down. She only twisted her ankle. That happens all the time."

"And scraped her whole arm open! And her side probably, too! She could have broken something!"

"But she hasn't. She was just overexcited because you were watching. Normally she knows to be careful."

"She is a ten-year-old girl, Geralt! She has no sense of self-preservation."

"Funny, hearing that from you."

Jaskier scoffed and crossed his arms. "That doesn't matter right now. You can't have her climbing unstable barrels and balancing fourteen feet above the ground! She could die if she fell!"

"You're exaggerating. The railing's not fourteen feet high."

"For once in my life I am not! Fuck, Geralt, sometimes I wonder if you have a conception of humans at all. She's a child, not a witcher!"

"At Kaer Morhen-" he tried.

"We are not at Kaer Morhen!" Jaskier interrupted him. "Haven't you noticed? We are not there because the mere way up there is deadly to humans when it is too cold! You are in Lettenhove for precisely that reason! And as the lord of this castle, I will not tolerate it!"

He crossed his arms and scoffed. "Are you now going to tell me how to train her?"

Jaskier's face was unmoving, his voice cold as stone: "Precisely."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You are being dramatic, my lord."

"No. No, I am not! Have you seen her bruises? I think there is not a single unmarked spot on her body! I don't even know how she can sleep at night!"

"Children are resilient. Besides, a few bruises don't harm anyone."

"Yes, they do!" There was the slightest quiver in Jaskier's voice that made Geralt falter. "Not everyone is like you and likes getting beat up!"

"She'll be fine," he said a bit more cautiously. "Everyone who learns how to fight goes through that. They all come around."

"No, they don't!" Jaskier's voice broke weakly, a broken sob ripping free of him that made him want to come closer and flee at the same time. "I didn't! I hate it! I hated it as a child and I hate it now and I will always hate it! Do not do the same to her!"

Geralt stared at Jaskier. What else was there he could do while the tears fell helplessly, staining his cheeks and dripping on his silken doublet. "I'm sorry," Geralt said finally, still trying to process his words. Now that he came to think of it, that was probably the most Jaskier had ever revealed to him about his life before leaving for Oxenfurt. Melitele’s tits, he hadn’t even been aware that Lettenhove was in Redania until recently. It was a shocking realisation, that he didn’t know anything about Jaskier’s childhood at all. "I didn't mean to, Jas-"

“‘I didn't mean to, my lord,’" he spat and turned away, "Get that into that thick head of yours already." The scent of spicy anger and salty-teared sadness was thick in the air.

"My lord," he tried again, tentatively reaching out, but Jaskier only recoiled even more.

"Go away," he murmured, his voice thick with tears, "I don't want to see you anymore."

Geralt tensed. He wanted nothing more than to make it better, to take his words back, quell the tears and smother the scent that reeked like a dusty mountaintop littered with corpses. 'I'm just trying to figure out what pleases me.' Maybe- "It would please me-"

"But it wouldn't please me!" Jaskier snapped. "Leave already!"

He hesitated for a few heartbeats, hoping that Jaskier would change his mind. He didn't. "Right," Geralt said quietly. "As my lord commands." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Not knowing what else to do, Geralt crossed over to the South Wing again to see if Ciri was alright. But as soon as he opened the door to Ciri's room, he heard a decided: "Out!" The old healer sat on the bed with Ciri, fussing over her injuries - to his shame, they looked a lot worse than he had anticipated.

"I just-" he began, but Wera interrupted him: "No. Out. You can see her when I am done."

He quickly glanced at Ciri, who smiled encouragingly. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll be fine."

"Fine," he muttered, and walked out of the room again. This day was not going as he had planned it.

He was still scowling when he reached the courtyard again, where they were still busy stowing away anything Ciri could climb. He snarled and moved to turn away, when he heard a familiar voice behind him: "So," Marin said, "you're an idiot. That's a surprise."

"What?" he snapped and whipped around. "I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. Because his lordship's right. That was bloody dangerous."

He snarled and turned away, pacing as vinegar filled the air around him. He didn't need another one telling him what to do. It had been fine until Jaskier had put his nose in places where it didn't belong.

"Geralt." He forced himself to still at Marin's firm voice behind him and grunted. "You're scaring the folks."

"I know," he growled, "I can smell it. Nothing I can do about it, is there?"

The Captain of the Guard shrugged. "Well, you could stop growling at everyone who walks past you. Grab an axe and finish that tree you massacred. Kill a monster or two. Spar with me."

"There're no monsters in Lettenhove," he answered.

"No, there's not. But I've heard news from Saltwall. That's a town a day and a half's ride from here. Apparently, they are having trouble with some necrophages or something."

He wanted to snap that that could mean anything but thought the better of it. "I don't have my armour. Or my sword."

Marin blinked stupidly. "What do you mean? Hasn't his lordship told you? They were brought in from Goldfurt four days ago."

Now it was Geralt who blinked. "No. He hasn't."

He shrugged. "I'll have it sent to your room. You go and look after Lady Fiona now. Wera will be done by now."

"Hmm," Geralt made and turned back to the South Wing. Before he could go inside, he said: "Thanks." He didn't wait for an answer. Instead he just rushed up the stairs, taking two steps at once.

Marin had the right of it; when he opened the door to Ciri's room, the old healer was gone. It was just the princess on the bed, reading a book. "How's princess Isabella the Brave?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I read that yesterday, Geralt. This one's about Sir Bartel the Strong."

"My apologies," he said quickly. He had long given up trying to keep track of the various heroes the novels dealt with — he had no doubts that she would have made her way through the entire collection before midwinter. He poked her in her side and made her squirm. "How's this princess, then?"

"I'm fine," she assured him and giggled. "My ankle has almost stopped hurting."

"And the arm? Still attached to your shoulder, I see."

Ciri stuck out her tongue. "All bandaged up. And the salve stinks."

“Hmm,” he made. "Then it helps."

"That's what Wera said, too! Is that another stupid grown-up thing?"

He smiled a bit. "Probably. I-"

There was a knock on the door that made both of them jump. "Come in!" Ciri called.

The door opened to reveal one of the younger guardsmen in Jaskier's employ. "I, uh- Marin told me to bring this to you, Sir Witcher."

Geralt raised his eyebrows in amusement and snorted when he saw the boy struggling with the pack of armour and the silver sword in his arms. He stood and strode over to him, relieving him of his heavy burden. "Thanks. That'll be all," he said and shut the door in his face.

Gently he placed the armour on the floor — it was even polished — and passed his fingers over the new scabbard of his sword. With one swift stroke he pulled it free, turning to see the blade gleaming in the sunlight. It was marvellously crafted, not a single unevenness to be found. 'It must've cost him a fortune,' he thought stunned.

Ciri's voice ripped him back to the present: "You're leaving, aren't you?"

He sighed. He had planned to be sensible about this. That was no use now. "For a while."

She turned back to her book. "I understand," she said. "You can't train me now anyways. Just be back as soon as I can walk again."

"I will be back far sooner than that," he promised her.

"That's good. Will you stay with me this evening?"

"Sure." He sat down on a chair beside her. "What do you want to do?"

"There are some games in the nightstand that Jaskier gave me."

He nodded and pulled one of the boards out. Following her instructions, he began setting up the pieces as he tried to remember the complicated rules she told him. In the end he lost most of the times they played, but at least it had made Ciri laugh.

He and Ciri didn't attend dinner, and neither did Jaskier, as he discovered when he went looking for him afterwards. "His lordship has already turned in for the night hours ago," Janina told him coldly when he found her and her sister in the fireplace room.

"He doesn't wish to be disturbed," Józefa added in the same tone. "By you."

Geralt hunched his shoulders and retreated out of the room. He wasn't particularly looking forward to talking to Jaskier, especially not when his company was obviously unwanted. On the other hand, he'd rather get out of the castle sooner than later. So, he ignored the warning and climbed the stairs to the lord's chambers.

He took a steadying breath and rasped his knuckles on the door. "Come in." He pushed it open and stepped inside. Jaskier looked better now. His hair was still damp from bathing and he smelt of bath salts and chamomile tea. He was dressed in nothing but a green silk robe, sitting on his bed with some report or another. He normally only looked that relaxed when he had spent a night in a lover’s embrace. The room didn't smell of sex, though, and Geralt wasn't sure if he was surprised or relieved.

Jaskier barely looked up when Geralt stepped inside nor did he make any attempt to hide his bare chest from view. He did, however, pull at a few strands of his hair to try and hide his bloodshot eyes. Something in his stomach tightened. 'Now that's not fair.'

"Witcher?" Jaskier prompted.

'Ah. Still cross at me.' He cleared his throat. "My lord, there's a contract in the area."

"And?"

"I'm going to take it."

He hummed quietly, flipping his page over. "Maybe. If you ask nicely."

He suppressed a sigh. "Do I have your leave to take this contract, my lord?" After a while he added: "If it might please you."

The paper crumpled loudly in Geralt's ears when Jaskier gripped it tighter. “It doesn’t,” he said curtly and took his time reading the page. Then, he spoke up again: "I'll consider it."

With a frustrated huff he turned his back. It was no use arguing with Jaskier when he was angry.

"How long will you be?"

Geralt stopped in his tracks. "It isn't far from here. Saltwall, Marin said. Four days, maybe five."

The flipping of another page. "You leave at sunrise tomorrow, witcher. Take a horse that might suit your needs." There was a tiny pause. "Don't you dare be late."

A smile curled around his lips at the indignation in his voice. 'Missed you, Jaskier.' "I won't, my lord,” he promised. “Sleep well."

He closed the door behind him, the clicking of the lock nearly drowning out Jaskier's whisper: "Sleep well, my witcher. Return to me soon."

#My writing #of witchers bards and broken hearts #OWBABH #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla #geraskier fanfiction

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lordseochangbin · 5 years ago

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50 shades of changbin: part eight

note: i wrote this while listening to dpr live’s ‘kiss me’. give it a listen ;) also plsplsplspls i want a reaction to this chapter LOLL so much tea and more to come. enjoy~

“just sign the contract changbin!” hannah pesters, rolling her eyes as changbin refuses to pick up the pen

“i can’t hannah.. what is this about?” he responds with a tone of confusion in his voice

“we have to agree on the same terms changbin! if the press comes to me and i tell them one thing, you can’t tell them another. it’ll fuck up my whole plan!”

“which is what exactly? tell the press that we’re dating so they’ll forget you were a drug addict a few months ago?!”

“oh wow changbin, nice to see that you’re catching on” changbin scoffs at her words, sitting down on the chair across from her as he takes the pen in his hands and signs the document.

“so.. how did we meet, hannah?”

it’s four in the morning, your eyesight is dizzy and your legs are failing but you still manage to laugh at jisung’s words, the two of you stumbling across your apartment complex’s hallway as you open the door.

“alright y/n, i think i should leave you here” jisung says

“oh come on jisung, it’s early in the morning, just stayyy” you beg, pulling his hands inside with a pout

“how about we have coffee in the morning? ill be here to pick you up in the morning”

“jisung!! just stay here silly, ill set up the couch for you”

jisung peeks inside your apartment before finally stepping in and closing the door behind him, “fine.. if you insist” he says with a wink before sitting down on the sofa.

your head is still banging from the loud music but you manage to keep your balance, getting some blankets and a pillow before standing in front of the sofa.

“jisung, you’re going to have to get off the sofa if you expect me to set it up” you chuckle, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before he can pull you on his lap.

your hearts racing, the only thing separating you two being a small pillow as jisung’s lips form a smirk. “why can’t you just set it up while i’m on it?”

you slap jisung’s shoulder, laughing at his antics. “what a flirt” you giggle

“me? a flirt?” jisung asks, digging through his pocket and pulling out a bright red lace panties.

your lips form an expression of shock before your hands unconsciously meet in between your legs, realizing there was nothing covering your core. your eyes look into his as if to ask him, ‘is that mine? seriously?’

“it’s yours.. now you should be lucky it’s with me and not some other guy at that club. they would’ve got the wrong message”

you smile at his words, your hands running through his hair “what if i wanted to send the wrong message… but to the right guy?”

jisung’s eyebrow arches at your words, “then let me tell you.. he got the message”

in seconds your legs are wrapped around his small waist, the pillow still separating you two.

your back hits the bed, sudden adrenaline pumping through your veins. you want it, he wants it. a feeling well known as you buck your hips up at his touch. jisung spreads your legs, pulling your dress up to your waist to reveal your drenching entrance.

your eyes close in pleasure at the cold air in between your legs, but there was no contact, no touch. jisung picks up the pillow that was once separating you two, ripping the pillow cover from its sight and folding it perfectly before covering your eyes, tying a knot behind your head.

you gasp at the sudden action, your blinded eyes leading you to your imagination. it’s not reality anymore, it’s what you want. his touch, his embrace. you want it all. the sounds that escape your lips as his tongue licks your core proves it.

you’re a mess, body squirming and nails digging into the sheets. you grab his hair as his tongue digs through your folds and it feels all too familiar. the feeling of being loved, a feeling you long missed as he pleasures you.

“nnngh, please.. faster” you beg in the midst of your moans, your hands grabbing at his shoulders. the fabric of his suit, the flicks on your clit. you arch your back, asking for more as he slides his hand to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he starts to suck on your bud.

every sound you make, every attempt to take out your pleasure- it only adds to the game as he laps through your folds, adding two digits which brings out the loudest moan you had ever released in awhile.

“f-fuck” he cusses as you clench around his fingers, “who’s making you feel this good?”

your eyes close in satisfaction, you’re so close, you’re so close to releasing and you’re not sure how long you can last. when he hears no response, he slaps your thigh harshly. “who’s making you feel this good?!”

“s-shit...c-changbin! only you, only you changbin!” you scream, releasing on jisung’s fingers before he pulls out.

“y/n… y/n?” jisung suddenly calls, taking his self-made blindfold off you as your eyes flutter open.

“ji… oh my god” you exclaim, covering your mouth as jisung flops next to you on the bed.

“well.. that was a mood killer” jisung says sarcastically

you sit up on your knees, the pain in between your legs still aching “jisung.. i’m sorry, seriously i’m just..”

“ex-boyfriend?” he interrupts, brushing his fingers through his hair

you look around, trying to avoid his gaze before giving into the truth. “yes…”

“don’t worry y/n, i get it”

“really?” you ask him

“really.. now how about i stay here for the night?”

“are you sure? you don’t want me to.. help you out?”

jisung laughs at your words, “don’t worry y/n, i’ll just pray for a wet dream with some hot russian model”

you cuddle into his chest, drawing circles on his abdomen as the two of you fall asleep on the messy bed- him, thinking about the girl he once knew long ago-- and you, thinking about changbin.

---

jisung pulls up to your work’s front entrance, unlocking the doors before walking to the other side of the car and opening the door for you.

“my personal escort, how kind of you” you thank him, jisung pulling off his cop cap and placing it on your head.

“how about you just quit your job? i’ll escort you every night” he winks, the distance between you two suggesting something that wasn’t what you two were.

changbin watched from the top floor. actually, he’d been waiting for you for awhile. the last thing he expected was for you to come out of another guys’ car.

he bit his lip anxiously as you hugged jisung, an inaudible conversation for him, but it made his heart clench to his chest. he couldn’t explain this feeling, watching you with another guy.

“i’ll see you tonight? i’m making my favorite pasta and i don’t plan on eating it alone” you asked, placing his cap back on his fluffy brown hair

“of course, i’m bringing the wine” jisung said, making the two of you laugh in anticipation of your future plans

changbin couldnt stop… staring. he had never seen you laugh like that, or so he thought. it felt different when he wasn’t the one making you smile.

he couldn’t stop thinking; how could you have gotten over him so soon?

little did he know.. that’s exactly what you were wondering.

i guess there are two sides to the story.

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years ago

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This is war (Frat!E/Soulmate AU)

Summary: When you’re born you have your soulmate’s name on one wrist, and your enemy’s on the other. Usually, people never know which is which, but for Y/N it’s rather clear as Ethan Dolan is written on both her wrists

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

Word count: 6.7 k

A/N - not gonna lie, this was much better in my head, but I’m too tired to reread and edit anymore and I decided to publish before I delete the whole thing.

People say love works in mysterious ways and the soulmate connections we've been given at birth are a gift, not a curse. Well, try saying that to someone who has certifiably been fucked over in that department.

Once you're born, every human has two names tattooed on their wrist – one name is meant to tell you who your soulmate is, the other name who is your enemy. Most people wonder which is which, hoping they don't make a mistake in their quest for love, but Y/N never had that issue. You see, ever since she was old enough to understand the soulmate connection and words inked on her skin, she knew there would be no confusion.

Why, you might wonder?

Well, both her wrists were inked the same – ETHAN GRANT DOLAN.

She didn't truly understand how that would work, going through her teen years with a chip on her shoulder as she watched all her friends find love and have no doubts about it while she tried to hide the name tainted on her skin and her soul.

Until she met him.

Y/N had escaped the Greek system on campus quite successfully in her freshman year, despite being a legacy for Kappa Kappa Gamma, but after a small incident in her dorm including matches, a blow-drier and drapes – which she refuses to talk about, she was in need of home close to campus with low rent costs. So, yes, she was forced to play nice with the sorority, moving into their house and that included attending parties...just like that fateful night.

Music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand, the sound rushing in and around every person in the room. Some react to the beat, others continue in chatter, but always it speaks to them in some manner. A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or move them to dance, whilst a slow one can relax the mood. Before the notes filled the air every person was an island, with it they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginnings of togetherness feels warm.

Everyone was having a good time, most of them drunk off their mind, others well on their way to it. Almost all, but Y/N, who had leaned her back against the wall, her right leg bent at the knee, the sole pressed against the wall as well. She played with the water inside her red cup, watching the people with contempt. She barely escaped alcohol and peer pressure, the party far from her style. If it were up to her, she’d be in her room, tucked into bed, reading up for next week’s assignments, a cup of tea on the nightstand.

But, no. She just had to attend, as her sisters insisted and now she was bored, annoyed and very much disgusted with everyone dry humping each other on the dance floor…and well, everywhere else, making bad decisions that will haunt them sooner or later.

Then she caught someone’s eye. And she noticed immediately, feeling the heaviness of his curious gaze.

The music drowned out as her mind focused solely on him, even the guy he was talking to beforehand had faded from her sight. He was all she could see. The only clear imagine in the blur everything had become.

He sat on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, his knees about ten inches apart. His right elbow casually rested on his right knee, a beer bottle in hand. He leaned back, pursing his lips as his left eyebrow raised in challenge, as if he’s daring her to move.

Y/N could tell he’s handsome – hell, handsome would be an insult for how good looking he truly is. It’s as Taylor Swift always said – hot and handsome as well, bad and he does it so well. She could tell it was true for this particular frat just by looking at him, but that’s not why her heart started beating out of her chest. That’s not why she felt trouble begin. The trouble began because she couldn’t look away. And apparently, neither could he.

Which is why it both terrified and excited her when he placed the beer bottle on the stairs, sitting up right after. He dusted his pants quickly, putting a formed fist before his mouth as if he was clearing his voice only to look back to where she stood, a smirk forming on his lips when he noticed she was staring back at him, standing still – awaiting for him to make a move first.

Sauntering toward her, he had picked two bears up on his way, stopping in front of her with a cocky grin.

“Want a drink? It’s on me.” He didn’t really ask. He wasn’t the type. Instead, he had already taken the cup from her hand – tossing it over his shoulder carelessly, pushing the bear in its stead, leaning his right shoulder on the wall beside her, his hand remaining on hers for a moment longer than necessary.

She raised an eyebrow, wondering if she should throw the beer in his face or keep it in her hand until her brain could work again, but she found herself enamored with the way he looked at her – like she held the answers to questions he was too afraid to ask.

And now, finally up close, she could see him perfectly.

He was handsome from the depth of his deep brown eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. She couldn’t pinpoint a single feature that makes him so handsome, though his eyes come close. People often speak of the color of eyes, as if that were of importance, yet his would be beautiful in any shade. It’s what hides behind them, deep inside. From them comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. Perhaps this is what is meant by a gentleman, not one of weakness or trite politeness, but a good soul. What he is, what is beautiful about him, comes from deep within; it makes her want to feel how his lips move in a kiss, how his hands follow the curves of her body.

And those hands, the warm big hands he had placed upon hers; they were inviting and enticing.

“On you? Silly me, I thought this was an open bar kind of a thing.” She snarked, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly as his lips parted, a chuckle escaping him.

“Oh, kitty has some claws, huh?” He inched closer, unable to hide his smile as it lit up his features, his hair a mess of small waves on top of his head he moves forth as he had to lean down to reach her ear and whisper. She held her breath in anticipation.

“If you ever need someone to teach you how to use them properly, let me know.” Winking, he took a step back, taking a big chug of his bear before sending her an air kiss. Outraged by his preposition, she hoped he’d be leaving, but instead, he outstretched his arm, offering his hand for her to take.

“I rarely get down and dirty with the newbies, but I’d make an exception for you.”

Annoyed and quite frankly insulted by his words, she hadn’t even considered taking him up on the offer. He’s as handsome as he is arrogant and she deemed him irreparable.

She focused on the hand as if it’s a murder weapon, the palm open toward her, his long finger slightly apart, showing off a ring on his index finger. But that’s not what she looks at as her eyes move just a few inches up and toward his wrist - a subconscious choice really, but she couldn’t help herself.

Gripping his hand, she pulled him closer by force, stepping right next to him to see properly for she was convinced she saw something that’s impossible. However, on closer inspection, and after she had taken his other wrist in her hand as well, her gaping mouth didn’t stop a confused groan from leaving her lips for right then and there, written in black ink on both his wrists stood her name.

“You’re Ethan fucking Dolan.” She accused, looking back at him with a shocked expression slapped on her face and had he not been so caught off guard, he’d mock her for it.

“How do you know?” He muttered, looking down on her sleeve covered wrists, wondering if this is it. If this is when he finally finds the girls he’d been wondering about for so damn long he started dreaming her up in his mind.

However, she didn’t respond, taking off so fast he barely had a chance to follow after as she got lost among the drunken people they’ve been surrounded with, leaving him alone and unaware that he had just started something that would soon escalate to a point of no return.

“HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?!”

She didn't see Ethan for the next few days, even if he did find every excuse possible to come around the sorority house, hoping to catch his mysterious girl out in the open - to finally confront her. But the entire weekend was a bust as she remained inside, studying, trying to avoid thinking about a soulmate she finally met...the enemy who had already given her reason to find him disgusting – a typical man...She never thought her soulmate/enemy would be a typical man, saying whatever to get a girl down on her knees...not that she had something against being on her knees for the man she was into, she just hoped he'd want to put a pillow under them in order to protect her, but he wasn't the guy she imagined him to be.

However, come Monday morning, they were faced with each other again. Little did they know they had the same classes all day, finding each other on different sides of the first row, each jotting down every word the professor said – almost identical with the exception of colorful markers Y/N used in comparison to the black pen Ethan did.

Every question asked, their hands would shoot up so fast the professor genuinely laughed...until they started arguing.

“Darcy wasn’t mean for the sake of being mean. He was brought up to value certain traits in a woman and Elizabeth Bennet was the complete opposite of who he wanted!” Ethan exclaimed, slamming both palms against his desk as he stood up in his fervor, already red in the face as Y/N kept burying each of his opinions repeatedly.

“This isn’t just about his upbringing. That is not an excuse to be so arrogant and prejudice, especially if you consider that Bingley comes from the same society, the same environment and he could care less about all the things his future wife lacked.” Y/N pointed out calmly, but her tone is sassy and brass, knowing she’s winning this particular debate…a debate their teacher most definitely didn’t plan and couldn’t stop despite trying.

“Please, Miss Y/L/N Mister Dolan, sit down.”

“I have more to say.” Y/N stated, turning back to Ethan with a small smile – one Ethan knew would obliterate him.

“This is about an arrogant man who couldn’t see further than his own pointy chin to see that the woman before him is a jewel he should have appreciated from the start. But the point of the whole story is that love changes people and that’s why it’s so admirable that Jane Austen had given us two imperfect characters, allowing them to grow with one another, learn from each other, until they became a proper match. It goes to show that there is more than just destiny involved in making of a good relationship.”

She rose an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond, but Ethan was clear on one thing…This wasn’t so much about Elizabeth and Darcy, rather about them…she had been thinking of them as well and she was telling him he needs to step up…but how could he? She was so infuriatingly stubborn, so damn driven and argumentative…too much like him for them to ever work.

“Perhaps, but for that to happen there has to be contact…actual conversation and time spent and without that and a few well timed choices, Elizabeth would have driven Darcy away before they ever got a proper chance.” Ethan challenged, making her nostrils flare just as his jaw clenched, her reply cut short by their very annoyed professor and his pounding headache.

“Enough! Class is dismissed!”

Y/N darted out of the room almost immediately. She was the first one there and the first one out, Ethan gathered, knowing now he’d have to wake up earlier in order to catch her before her claws came out. Well, he hoped there was a time she didn’t have them out. Either way, he expected a few scratches even if everything goes well.

However, he soon realized she was in all his classes – all, but one – Economy 101.

Every class seemed like a rerun of the first, the two debating on most trivial and sometimes on the in debt issues of the subject, quite publicly, driving their faculty insane. In only one day, they’ve become an academic nightmare.

It didn’t stop Ethan from running after her once the classes ended, struggling to keep pace.

“Hold up!” He shouted, out of breath, surprising Y/N into a stop…but only for a moment.

“What do you want?” She lifted her chin, her eyes narrowed at him, lips pursed as if she had every intention of kissing him, but he knew that is a way for her to show contempt.

Stepping in her path, he lifted his index finger weakly, doubling down to catch a proper breath.

“To. Talk.” He managed to say between breaths, straightening up, his mouth still open as he struggled to calm himself down. But he didn’t miss when she rolled her eyes at him, folding her arms across her chest as if to put up a barrier between them – to keep him at bay.

“In that case, no. I’m leaving.” She huffed, trying to pass by him, not expecting his hands to grip her hips, steadying her in place, pulling her closer to him – close enough to smell the mint from his chewing gum.

“Stop being as prideful as Elizabeth and let me try and start over with you.” Ethan insisted, his voice low and dark, compelling and charming…it worked its magic on her…just not as well as he had hoped.

“I have no words…Oh, wait! Ass, jerk, mindless, arrogant, frat boy, lowlife, butt-faced miscreant…” She listed, causing Ethan’s eyebrows to furrow, pressing together until they formed a vertical line, not too deep, implying he rarely frowned in his life.

“Butt-faced miscreant?” He chuckled, watching her fury grow, but he truly couldn’t hold it in. “I just think I’m handsome and charming. I’m honestly a catch.” Ethan shrugged, smirking at the way her cheeks darkened with her rage, finding it adorable.

“If you want me to stop being like Elizabeth, perhaps you need to stop being an arrogant Darcy first.” She stated, poking his chest with the tip of her index finger, her lips still set in that pout he found so attractive. Hell, her entire being was inviting – especially when she was mad…even more because she was mad at him. Even when she decided to walk away from him…she looked good walking away as well.

“I’ll have you know I’m as humble as ever, just aware of my value!” He shouted after her, knowing he probably looks like a douche-bag and a stalker, but he didn’t care.

That’s when he decided he’d get her attention otherwise…by beating her in every way possible.

Every class became a competition – who will answer first or who will give a proper remark or a better grade and stop the other from winning in their imaginary race. And while Y/N found it infuriating – him to be infuriating, she also found Ethan with a fresh set of bruises each week and that didn’t sit well with her. However, with the pace they’ve set, she knew she couldn’t ask him about it – after all, he had his life, his own secrets and she had no right to them.

Their squabble lasted for a good while, which is when their games started getting heated. And Y/N understood that only when Ethan had gone a bit too far.

She screamed loudly…loud enough for the neighboring frat to hear the desperation and rage laced in the piercing scream, making Ethan laugh as he dialed her number.

“Dude, you’ve gone too far.” Grayson stated, shaking his head at his twin who had already placed his phone before him to get a good angle on his face so he could look good for when she answered the Face time call.

“What the hell do you want?” She growled into the phone, still shaking as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“Just wondering why you’re hiding your face from me, babe.” Ethan smirked, the action audible in his voice, forcing her to properly face the phone and see the man who she was constantly at war with.

“I see you got my gift.” Ethan’s eyebrow rose, his cockiness showing in every pore of his being, making her eyes widen.

“You. Put. Hair-dye. In. My. Shampoo?” She said each word slowly, her voice shaking as her left eye twitched, making Ethan chuckle at her reaction.

“You fucking asshole! Do you realize what you’ve done?” She went off, not holding back as he laughed so hard he felt his stomach might cramp up.

“My abs are growing!” He exclaimed, watching her continue on the other side, his brother chuckling behind the screen as well.

“It’s not funny! Half my hair is burned from this shit! It took me six years to grow it to this length and now I have to cut it! Ethan, stop laughing! I swear you’ll pay for this!” She threatened, a promising craze in her beautiful Y/E/C eyes, making Ethan gulp for a moment, knowing she meant what she said.

“You’re on, Smurffete.”

And it really was on.

The one thing Y/N found unusual about Ethan is the fact he worked at a library. And what’s worse than having your enemy work in a library? After all, all the books she needed on her reports would suddenly disappear or he’d never stop talking to her while she tried to study, bringing her to a point of madness. But it also made sure Y/N knew where to find the frat in question when she wanted her revenge.

She tiptoed inside the library, seeing him with his head down – cheek against the back of his right hand, his lips slightly parted as he let out small breaths in his peaceful state, unaware of the girl he was so enraged and enthralled by would exact her vengeance any moment now.

She rubbed the small strip between her palms, gently peeling it off before plastering it on his face – quickly and precisely – waking him up in the process.

“What? Huh?” He jumped at the unexpected touch, looking around wildly in his daze until his dark eyes fell on her smirking figure, knowing instantly in the pit of his stomach this won’t bode well for him. Especially when he saw her navy blue hair falling down on her shoulders instead of all the way down her back like it used to.

And that’s when he felt it.

Blindly reaching up, Ethan had tapped his face until he touched a paper-like thing on his face – right over his eyebrow. And he knew. He instantly knew, even without trying, his soulmate had fucked him over.

“You didn’t.” He said in a disbelieving tone, staring blankly at her as his pupils dilated just by looking her way – simply confirming even if a big part of him hated her in this particular moment, Ethan had fallen hopelessly in love with her.

“OH…I did. And I’ve left you with a choice. Walk with it around campus or put yourself out of this misery and pull it right away.” Her smirk had grew into a wicked grin as she leaned closer, inches from his face, her eyes boring into his until they both felt breathing is an impossible task.

She examined his face, even the fading bruise under his right eye and the slightly swollen bottom lip. But then she dared do something bold – pecking the tip of his nose, she quickly stepped back and left Ethan sitting there – dumbfounded and completely fucked, and they both knew it.

Once outside, she had placed a hand over her chest, shaking her head at herself to reprimand whatever part of her cared for him and longed for the feel of his lips on her own. She didn’t want to like the guy, but more time she had messed with him – stronger her attachment became.

One minute he made her blush and the next he made her want to commit murder.

She avoided him like the plague for the weekend, awaiting the first lecture on Monday morning when Ethan not only came in late, but he still had the strip on his left eyebrow, hidden under his favorite snapback.

“I’m sorry, Professor Andrews. I just wanted to point out the dress code and that Mister Dolan is in violation of it at this point.” She pointed her pen Ethan’s way, making him sink deeper in his seat and he knew she had won this round. Because even if she had to cut her hair and the color changed, she looked even more beautiful with it – he had improved her if that was even possible – just confirming she must be some kind of a demon sent from hell to torture him to death or madness at the very least. But she had definitely won – not only by taking something many would say is off limits, but she had done it before their entire class, making sure he stops whatever it is he’s doing thus ending the war.

“She’s right. Mister Dolan, take it off.”

Unwilling and with a death glare sent to a smirking Y/N, Ethan had reluctantly taken his snapback off, leaving him with a very visible white strip over his eyebrow.

“That paper too.” Professor Andrews ordered, unaware what it really is.

“But –“ Ethan tried, making Y/N giggle when the professor simply repeated himself.

“Off.”

Gulping, Ethan had made direct eye contact with his mischievous devil of a soulmate, grabbing the strip of wax she pressed on his eyebrow, pulling it off in one swift motion, grunting as the pain hit him – blinding him. He couldn’t look at anyone anymore, humiliation setting in, deciding then and there he was done…he was done chasing her and he was done fighting with her…or for her. He was just done.

Y/N had been very surprised once she came to the library a few days later after not seeing Ethan around at all. She hated that she found herself feeling guilty, unable to fall asleep with those damn eyes of his ingrained in her permanent memory. She hated that she felt worried for him because Ethan never missed a class since she’s known him. And most of all, she hated that she found herself looking for him, actively trying to find his stupidly handsome face because her heart had started to ache without it.

So, when she waltzed into the library, only to find her arch nemesis sat at his post, his head down, facing a book, she made a bee line toward him.

“I need a book.” She pressed her lips, hearing her own voice and wishing to roll her eyes at how small and weak it sounded in front of the one man she refused to be small or weak in front of.

“Evidently.” He spoke, his voice void of the usual playfulness, sarcasm dripping with every letter formed. He didn’t even lift his head up, rather licked the tip of his index finger and flipped the page. He didn’t even bother giving her grief, simply…ignored her existence.

“So, you do have Alison Weir's War of the Roses?” She continued, hoping to get some kind of a reaction on his part besides the utter indifference. It hurt…it hurt to see him so emotionless, because even on his worst day, Ethan was anything but.

Annoyed, he lifts his head, giving her a full view of his black eye and terribly drawn on eyebrow. She wondered why the hell he kept getting those injuries or why he got in fights at all, shocked at the way his usual brown orb was shadowed by the purple ring around it. But then again, she also wondered which hoe did he ask to draw that eyebrow for him, because whoever it was, she did a horrid job and should have herself checked out because her hand shook so badly as she drew it that Y/N could genuinely see the tremors in her work.

But that’s not what she focused on, rather the bruise for she had never see it be so bad so far. It was never quite as prominent, as bloody…and he had never looked so…lost.

Subconsciously, she moves her hand toward his eye, nearly touching him before he flinches away from her attempt, changing his indifference to anger.

“We have the book! Go fucking get it and leave!” He snapped, leaving Y/N in a state of…devastation?

She’d never admit it, but the tone, the words, the entire approach had rattled her, so instead of fighting him on it like she’d usually do, she took a step back, holding herself from being as obvious as crying before him.

“O-okay. I -”, She stuttered, pressing her lips as she swallowed thickly. “T-thank you.” She walked away swiftly, losing herself in the shelves at the back of the library.

Ethan followed her with his eyes as she did so, noticing she’s walking too stiffly, too quickly…she was trying to get away from him. He had chased her away. Snorting to himself, he shook his head, trying to understand why he’s put in this fucked up situation and how he’ll get out of it.

“Bro, why is Y/N crying?” Grayson placed his book on the counter, looking back from where he just came from – where he saw Y/N hiding in the corner with sobs sounding despite having both hands clasped over her mouth.

“Not my problem.” Ethan shrugged, trying to hide the fact his heart stung. She couldn’t be crying because of him, could she? After all, he hadn’t done anything they haven’t been doing all along, right? At least it’s what he thought.

“She’s your soulmate, E. It’s always your problem.” Grayson insisted, but Ethan didn’t budge. Instead, he buried his nose in the books and assignments, determined to let go of the misery he had found himself in.

It wasn’t always like that. It used to be a beautiful thing – exciting, competitive, frustrating and maddening and incredibly attractive…but it wasn’t real. Not like he thought it was. Turns out, it was mostly a lie. But for a while, it was a beautiful one.

So, while he was lost in his own head, Y/N had studied on the floor of the library until late, sniffling silently until she found what she needed. She carefully set the book in its place before walking out with her head down, refusing to let him see she’s spilled tears over his outburst…although it was more about her missing him…their arguing more than anything. But she knew he wouldn’t see her. He didn’t want to and that only made her hurt more.

Avoiding each other had become their new routine.

She’d occasionally catch a glimpse of him as he passed her, hidden in the crowd, his snapback on his head, hiding the monstrous eyebrow someone had drawn him, but also bruises she knew he was bearing. In her heart she retracts all the bad things she had ever said, they were never a reflection on him, only on her inner demons.

When all is said and done, Ethan had been kind and mischievous, a perfect combination of loving and adventure she’s missed in life. He would have kept her life interesting even when she questioned everything. He would have made her happy. She knew that now.

“You should talk to him.” Grayson startled her, throwing his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a friendly side hug. She elbowed him, wriggling out of his embrace, stopping before him.

“Talk? I barely even see him outside of classes. Even then, he’s usually hiding in the last row – last one in, last one out. Ethan doesn’t want me around.” Y/N sighed, pulling her books closer to her chest, her gaze dropping to the cobblestones just as her mood too.

“He…He does, but he was hurt. Humiliated. And he realized he needs a break from it all. It felt like an all out war between you two.” Grayson cleared his throat, shaking his head as if the thoughts he had were far too crazy to let them out.

“Just be patient with him, okay? Maybe let him know you’re not dreaming of killing him in his sleep? Say a few kind words?”

Y/N decided she’d try, if nothing else.

“You sure he wants me to? From what I’ve heard, he’s quite popular with the girls…even if they suck in their eyebrows skills.” She huffed, the jealousy oozing from her like poison, so clearly no once remained in the dark of her true feelings.

Grayson chuckled.

“First…I drew the eyebrow, but I forgive your for the harsh critics. On the other hand, you should have seen how worked up he was, he could barely sit still.” Pausing, Grayson raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips.

“You’re the hoe!” She exclaims, making Grayson scoff.

“Huh?!”

Chuckling, she covers her mouth. “Never mind, what was the second thing.”

“Second, he never had anyone before you. Y/N he had wondered about you his whole life and then he met you and he fucked up with whatever he said and he knew it the moment it happened even before he realized you’re his soulmate. He did all of it to get closer to you and I’m sure he more than just likes you. Okay? Just…he’s a one woman man and you’re the woman he wants. He’s just a little lost now.”

So, she had set off to the library once more, finding Ethan in his usual seat. He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous, yet perfectly styled to show his beauty. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite and she couldn’t help but halt, take a deep breath before watching him some more. She had never truly taken time to do so, afraid she’d be unable to resist his charm and she had her guard up from the start. This time she wanted the opposite, to see him – all of him.

He had dark eyebrows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression, even the drawn one and she found herself smirking despite the situation that stunt put them in. His usually playful smile had drawn into a hard line across his face. His perfect lips ripe for the kissing.

He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. She guessed she must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course the blush she that accompanied it was a dead give-away. It didn't help that he was so modest with it, it made the girls fall for him all the more. Despite all the opportunity that came his way he was a one-woman-man who prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and high-heels. He was handsome alright, but inside he was beautiful.

What she didn’t realize in all the time she spent staring at him, is that Ethan had noticed her from the corner of his eye, feeling as if his head will explode if her gaze doesn’t relent. All he wanted was to let her go, but that stubborn girl wasn’t ready to let him let her go. She wanted to drive him insane, clearly. It’s the only plausible explanation.

However, before she had a chance to talk to Ethan, one of the frats stepped in her way, determined to get her attention.

“Mark, can we talk later?” She was blunt, trying to clear her path to the one guy she wanted, but Mark wasn’t interested in backing down.

“I would, but your promised me a favor when I helped you get into Mr. Clark’s class and I’ve come to collect.” Mark smirked, wanting nothing more than to have her asking for what the favor could be, to show enthusiasm and even some affection, but she had no intention of doing so.

“What is it that you want?” She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips.

“A kiss.” Mark exclaimed, making her chuckle.

“As if!” She moved left, trying to bypass him, only to find his hand gripping her elbow, pulling her toward him.

“Let her go.” A growled threat came from the one man Y/N knew would be there to save the day, forcing Mark to lessen the pressure.

“What’s it to you?” Mark frowned, his eyes narrowing at a slightly shorter Ethan who was already clenching his fist, raising his chin to face whoever it is that decided to make trouble for Y/N – his Y/N…if anyone is allowed to cause her trouble, it was him.

“Everything.” In an instant, Ethan’s fist found Mark’s face. The hand on her elbow disappeared, finding another as it pushed her aside. She watched Mark grab a book, hitting Ethan across his ribs, forcing him to his knees as a guttural grunt left Ethan’s lips, coughing up blood. Mark had used the chance to land a second punch on Ethan’s face – the last punch he’d make as Y/N had run into him, using her entire body to slam into the guy…anything to save Ethan.

Mark didn’t stick around to see the damage made, running off like a coward, allowing Y/N to face Ethan.

“Ethan”, she whimpered his name, cupping his cheeks until she could see the dark bruises on his face, some faded and some new, freshly made cuts. She had placed a hand over the arm he had used to clutch onto his ribs, shaking as the adrenaline took over her system.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice tiny and weak, filled with palpable emotion…Emotion reserved for him. It had given him reason enough to look her in the eye, his free hand covering the one she had placed on his cheek. And yes, the hand she placed on his face had provoked his old bruises, but he’d never tell her to move it for he had never felt her touch him and never with such gentleness, such care and devotion.

His strong hands, slightly rough, held hers as he stared deep into her eyes. She couldn't help but blush. His smile etched its way back into his face. His body was warm and toned as he hugged her close, comforting to the touch. His voice was deep, with a serious tone. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, "I really do love you."

She stilled, her body tensing with the words, but he spoke what she longed to hear. She didn’t want him to think she felt otherwise, quickly hashing out an ‘’I love you too” for his peace of mind, hugging him back which only caused him to groan in pain, losing footing as he fell back on his ass and against the desk.

“Owh, my ribs!” His cry didn’t help because in his fall, he had pulled her along with him. She had straddled him, her hands pressing right against his pained ribs, his arms still holding her so close she could cause him more hurt.

“I’m sorry!” She chuckled, placing a kiss on his jaw, and normally, Ethan would stop and appreciate the moment, especially since she buried her face in the crook of his neck right after but in this instance all he could feel is the hand she had pressed against his bruised rib.

“Still hurts, love!” He chuckled through the pain, hearing her mumble an apology once more which finally helped as she moved from his chest to his shoulders, but as she adjusted, her knee lifted, kneeing him in the gut, shouting out a ‘sorry’ just as he cried out:

“Owhhh, you evil woman!”

Deciding it would be best to just sit on the floor beside him, Y/N had held his hand in hers, her eyes not leaving his face.

“Why are you always covered in bruises?” She was almost afraid to ask, he could tell. Ethan had wanted to hide it from her, somehow…but he knew it would be a short fight because his girl had claws and they would scratch until he bled the truth.

“I’m training to be a boxer again. I was pretty good back in high school until I lost my coach and manager...my dad…Now, I usually do a few illegal fights a month to keep in shape and get some cash until I find a good manager.” Ethan sighed, knowing exactly what she’d say.

“That’s stupid. You could get seriously hurt! Are you that careless?! Why do you want me to go gray before I turn thirty.” She hid her face in her hands, her voice turning into a cry, driving Ethan insane. He wasn’t very good with tears.

“I know. I’m aware. I just…needed to get the frustration out.” He shrugged, deciding to place a hand on her knee and see if that does something to calm her.

“You’re an idiot.” She turned to him, her face red and wet, her fear evident.

“I know. But I’m still your idiot.” He smirked, despite the cut on the left side of his bottom lip, wanting to give her his signature smile even if it hurt.

“That’s still up for debate.” She deadpanned, leaning in, licking her lips as she watched his in thought, as if she’s weighing the pros and cons of kissing him now.

He could drink in her words like a strong wine and enjoy feeling tipsy. He watched her like she had the stars in her hands and soft petals at her feet. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. So he did. He refused to deprive himself of her lips any longer because each moment without her was torture.

He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. She ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest. They are bound in a kiss that is so tender the world should stop on its axis and take note of their love. And she nibbled on his lower lip, drawing out a pained chuckle on his behalf which had ended their kiss and made her frown again, pushing back the hair from his face to see him perfectly.

“I’m convinced this is just a new plot of yours to kill me.” He managed to say, licking his lips to taste the cherry balm remains of her lips.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead Dolan.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the vibration of his airy chuckle, feeling it fill her heart and soul.

Perhaps being enemy soulmates would do them good in the long run. If nothing else, they’ll never be bored in life, always there to keep each other safe from others and to wreak havoc among themselves – bettering each other in the process.

Tags: @dolanstwintuesday @peacedolantwins @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @dolandolll @ethanhes @accalialionheart

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